Tag Archives: #BacklistThursday

#backlistThursday 5.6.2021

When I wrote my WILL COOK FOR LOVE series, there was one character who popped into two of the books that I absolutely loved, Private Eye Rick Bannerman. Cocky, self-deprecating, of course handsome, and with a very dark past, I wanted to give him an HEA of his own and a woman who could stand toe to toe with him in every circumstance. A PRIDE OF BROTHERS: RICK, was born from that premise. It was my first ROMANTIC SUSPENSE and the next book in the series, AIDEN, is coming out soon, so I figured today would be a good day to give Rick and Abby Laine some blog time.

Elite bodyguard and P.I. Rick Bannerman’s job is to protect. He doesn’t get emotional with his clients, but when a woman from his past is threatened, his next job becomes personal.

Family lawyer Abigail Laine is the target of a client’s vengeful husband, but refuses Rick’s offer of protection. He walked away from her four years ago, and she swore to forget him.

Now her reluctance to accept his help could cost Abby her life.

Excerpt:

When had her life turned into this stressful jumble?

Abby grabbed the bottle of extra-strength pain reliever she kept in her kitchen junk drawer, shook out three tablets, and swallowed them with a small glass of tap water.

“Head that bad?” Rick asked from behind her.

“I let it go too long.” She rolled her neck, massaged a muscle where it connected with her shoulder. “I should have gotten in front of it right when it started in court. But I don’t like to take anything when I’m working. The pills make me fuzzyheaded.“

Rick reached around her and grabbed the bottle from the counter. “These are plain over-the-counter tablets. I’d think you’d have something stronger, something prescribed, for when the pain gets this bad. I can see the headache all over your face and shoulders. You’re wearing the pain like you’d wear makeup.”

“You can’t know what a boost to my fragile ego having you here is, Bannerman.”

“Your ego is fine,” he said, moving a step closer.

Her kitchen was huge by Manhattan standards. She could have four people stand in it and still have room to cook around them. Not so when Rick was with her. Sure, he was tall, but so were her brothers-in-law. They never made her feel like her personal space was so congested when they were visiting, though.

“Turn around,” he said.


“What?”


“You heard me. Turn around, Abigail.”

“Bossy, much?”

The low, deep rumble of his chuckle sent the tiny hairs on her neck up to attention.

“When I have to be,” he said. “Believe me, for once you’ll be glad you listened.”

“Doubtful,” she murmured. Reluctantly, she presented him with her back.

“Take a breath,” he told her. “A deep one. And hold it for a few seconds.”

She did.

“Now let it out, slowly. Count to five in your head while you do.”

“What is this, Bannerman? Some Vulcan mind- trick cure for a headache? Because if it is, it’s not—oh! Oh…my.” The last word scattered out in one long exhale.

“Told you you’d be glad you listened.”

The pressure of his thumbs on either side of her shoulders, a hair below the collar of her blouse as they kneaded, pressed, and drew little circles around her constricted muscles, shot a wave of intense pleasure straight down the length of her spine.

Abby closed her eyes and sighed. “Oh, good Lord. Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop.”

“Your neck is so tight, I’m surprised your spine doesn’t snap when you walk in those stilts you love so much. It’s a wonder you can move at all with any kind of flexibility.”

“Practice.” She all but purred like her cat when his thumbs sank into her flesh. “And motivation. That feels…amazeballs.”

She swore she could hear his grin. He replaced his thumbs with the pads of his first and second fingers, pressed in deep, released, and then did it again.

“Amazeballs, Abigail? How old are you?”

“Oh! I’ll be any age you want me to be, but don’t stop…please.”

His chuckle turned to a laugh. “I can’t tell you how much I like hearing you beg. Take another deep breath.”

Obediently, since she now knew the benefits of being so, she did. “Oh. My. God.

He’d wound his long, strong fingers up under her hairline. While he flexed them, massaging every bit of her skull, a thousand jolts of electricity bounded down her back. Her legs turned liquid. She needed to sit down before she fell flat to the floor.

“Stop wiggling. Try to hold still,” he said, dangerously close to her ear. The warmth of his breath as it whispered over her neck delightfully singed her skin. “There’s one pressure point I haven’t gotten to yet.”

“I can’t feel my feet.” Good Lord. Did that moan come from her?

“Good. Then this is working. Give me another minute.”

“You can have all night, Bannerman. As long as you want. Just don’t stop.”

For the briefest of moments, so brief she might have imagined it, he stopped kneading, a swift inhale ringing around her. Then, in a heartbeat, he started his ministrations again. For the first time Abby noticed their bodies were touching, the middle of her back pressed along his torso.

While his fingers skimmed up to her temples, she tilted backward, bumping her head against his chest. He was as solid as a block of concrete.

Rick inhaled a jagged breath when the rest of her body pressed into him.

He had the pads of three fingers against her temples now, the concentric circles he pressed and released over them drawing out little mewing noises from the back of her throat. When his pinkies joined their brothers, all four fingers of each hand now splayed along her skin, feathered into her hairline, Abby rolled her neck back and opened her eyes a fraction. Upside down, she saw the edge of Rick’s jaw, watched— fascinated—as his throat bobbed up and down while he continued attending to her.

“I’m almost done. Hold on for another sec.”

She let her eyes drift closed again. Rick moved his hands so they cupped the back of her neck, then, slowly, he brought her head away from his chest to an upright position, leaving his palms flattened across her shoulder blades.

“Take a breath and lift your shoulders,” he commanded.

Abby did, then rolled her head front to back.

“How’s the headache now?”


She opened her eyes and blinked. “Gone.” She whirled around to face him. “Completely gone.”


He nodded and flexed his fingers as if working out his own kinks. “Good. I’m glad it worked.”


“Where did you learn how to do that?” She slid a hand along one side of her neck, tilted her head, then moved it in the opposite direction. “I don’t think my shoulders have been this loose since, well, fourth grade.”


“You spend a lot of time hunched over.” He opened her fridge and pulled out two bottled waters. “Computer. Legal briefs. It’s no wonder your shoulders are tight and you’re susceptible to migraines.”

“How did you know I had migraines?” She took a swig of the water. “I mean, as opposed to regular bad headaches?”

“You wear the pain on your face. It’s obvious to anyone who knows what to look for.”

“And you do?”

He nodded. “Drink the whole bottle and then you need to eat. You haven’t had anything all day. It’s a wonder you aren’t dropping.”

He bent and peeked into the refrigerator. Sipping her water, she took the opportunity to stare at his butt.

Intrigued? I hope so, and if so, you can get your own copy here: A PRIDE OF BROTHERS: RICK

And don’t forget to check back her on June 1, 2021 when I’ll be having my official COVER REVEAL for A PRIDE OF BROTHER: AIDEN. You won’t want to miss this cover because it is perfection!!!

Enjoy your day, kids. Until next time ~ Peg

And remember, if you’re looking for me, I’m always here:

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#backlistThursday 4.22.2021

This is the first time I’ve ever added an anthology for my backlist.

At the beginning of 2020 ( before Covid ruled the world) Australia was engulfed in flames. One of the Wild Rose Press authors is an Australian and asked if there was some way we, as authors, could come together to raise money for the RedCross to aid the firefighters and the people devastated by the fires.

A three part anthology titled AUSTRALIA BURNS came from that one question. Multiple WRP authors contributed stories to the collection and took no royalties from sales – their money was donated instead.

Love that.

My addition was a little story I’d written when I was concetrating on writing murder mysteries and not romance. The story, THE TUESDAY NIGHT MEETING, is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written.

Here’s a quick excerpt, and if you want to purchase the anthology, here’s the link: AUSTRALIA BURNS. I’m in volume 1

“Cora,” Mavis aid, capturing the entire attention of the room, “do you know anything about our group?”
            She shook her head and swiped at her still running nose. “Not much, Ma-am. I know you give out scholarships to worthy high school girls for college. And you support the poor, especially at the holidays. I’ve seen write-ups in the paper about the good things y’all have done. But aside from those, I don’t know much else. Excepting,” she said, “ that you’re all widows.”

            The members of the club collectively smiled at her.

            “That’s why I thought it strange to be asked here tonight. I’m not a widow.”

            “No, darlin’ you’re not,” Wisteria said, smiling. “Not yet.”

            Cora gaped, openmouthed, at the old woman.

            “Let me start at the beginning, dear, so you’ll understand how our little club came to be.”

            Settling back in the chair, Wisteria took a breath then began her tale. 

            “You probably don’t remember my late husband, Major Plowright. I believe he passed when you were just a baby. Well, my dear, if there was ever a tougher man in the world to live with, I’d be sore pressed to believe it. I truly feel the moment he was brought into the world a military angel crossed his path and predestined him for a soldiers’ life. His mother told me after we’d been married for about a year that even as a child, everything had to be precision perfect in his world. He tolerated no fools, silliness or any kind of good-natured fun. I didn’t realize this when I married him, mind you. I know now I fell in love with his spit and polish exterior and superior manner. I never could resist a good lookin’ man in a uniform.”

            A few well-knowing chuckles escaped throughout the room.

            “Well, married life was kind of sweet for a while. I got used to his ranting and raving about precision and cleanliness and order. But when the Major was forced to retire at a very early age, well, it all changed. He changed. Nothing I did was ever good enough. I was plum worn out with three babies and a big house to care for, and he never helped a lick with anything. One day he came home from his club and my youngest had spilled his juice all over the kitchen floor. I was just about to clean it up, but the Major didn’t let me. He stormed into the room, saw the mess and started screaming and hollering so loud I thought my little Jimmy’s diapers were gonna fall off. When I tired to explain about the mess, he smacked me across the face. Knocked me clear across the kitchen with one felled swoop of the back of his hand. I was so stunned I didn’t see the next one coming. He was raving about me being an inadequate wife and mother and that he was going to teach me a lesson I’d never forget. He was right about it, too. I never forgot that first beating or all the others he gave me after. I do believe he came to enjoy it when he struck me down. I’d see a gleam in his eyes, kind of like the one I’d seen when he was in the throes of passion, whenever he hit me.”

            Wisteria stopped and refreshed herself with a sip of tea.

            “Miz Plowright, ma-am. I had no idea,” Cora said.

            “Of course not, darlin’. In those days, why, a woman was barely a step above chattel.  Men’s property; bought and sold.”

            “What did you do? I mean, did you stay with the Major?”

            “For a while. I ran away with the children once, to my mother. But the Major followed me and dragged us all back. The beating I endured that night broke my left arm and two of my ribs.”

            “I remember he went around town the next day telling everyone who’d listen that you fell down the front steps because you were rushing off somewhere in a dither,” Molly Kane said.

            When Cora gasped, Wisteria patted her hand sand said, “You see, Cora. We’ve all lied at one time or another about our bruises.”

            “Finish your story, Wisteria,” Mavis commanded.

            After taking another sip of tea, she did. ”I knew I had to do something about the situation, but what? I couldn’t leave him. He’d shown me how he’d hunt me down and bring me back. Divorce was out of the question in those days. No self respectin’ woman of the South would ever be seen in divorce court, airing all her dirty personal laundry. I finally figured out I had two options. I could stay and put up with this man I’d grown to fear and hate until he finally succeeded in killing me, or…”

“Or?” Cora prompted.

“Or I could rid myself and the children of him right then and there.”

Cora’s loud intake of air was the one sound in the room. To the question in her eyes, Wisteria merely inclined her head.

“Yes, my dear. I killed my husband. It was the only way I could survive.”

Intrigued? hee hee. I hope so!

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#backlistThursday 4.15.2021

Today’s Backlisted book was released in July 2019 when I was on a family vacation in England. Two exciting things at once! DIRTY DAMSELS was my first ( and last) book for LImitless Publishing. The company dropped my future books in the series because I didn’t sell a million copies out of the chute! No lie. Actually, I should thank them because of their cancellation, I started Indie publishing and have been very happy with the results.

Anyhoo…

DIRTY DAMSELS is a modern version of Cinderella. This Cindy owns her own cleaning company, the storyline is a riches-to-rags-to-riches one.

Limitless writes their blurbs in the male first person viewpoint, so it’s a little different from what I’m used to. Here ya go:

What if Cynderella had a one-night stand with a man named Prince?

When I first saw Cynderella all covered in soot in that sexy maid uniform, I knew I wanted to be her Prince.She’s a smart and savvy businesswoman who’s built her cleaning company from the ground up.

But now that Dirty Damsels was booming, I’ve been hired to arrange a hostile takeover. But the temptation of having her was too much to ignore… We ended up spending one night together–a night neither of us will forget. Now, I want more. I need more. I want to spend every night, skin-on-skin, with my beautiful Ella.

Problem is, when she finds out who I really am, she’ll never forgive me.

Excerpt:

“Don’t look,” Nell said, close to my ear, “but this insanely hot guy has been staring at you since we sat down.”

“How can you order me not to look when you say something like that?”

“By the bar,” she said. “Dark hair, designer suit, striking eyes. The best mouth I’ve seen on a guy in ages.”

A little bell rang somewhere in the back of my head at her depiction and in the next second my eyes locked onto him.

Shocked is too tame a description when I discovered who it was. He looked as yummy and as magnificent as when he’d stood in the penthouse. With his elbow resting casually on the bar, another be-suited guy with a drink in his hand next to him.

“Do you know who he is?” Nell asked. “Because you’re gonna in about five seconds. He’s heading this way.”

He said something to the guy at his side and maneuvered along the perimeter of the dance floor, squeezing past club patrons and waiters, his gaze locked on mine.

I was hypnotized by those eyes. It was as if he were psychically holding me in place while he made his way over. I had no will of my own to look away.

Or run away.

Fear propelled me up from the chair just as he stopped in front of the table.

“Cinderella? It is you,” he said, his sexy smile slowly growing across his mouth. “You look different with your hair down. Beautiful, still,” he added.

I couldn’t think of a thing to say. The fact he stood in front of me, no, next to me now, moving in so he could be heard over the blast of the music, turned me mute. All brain synapses vaulted from my mind. I said the first thing that popped into my head. “Did you have a good nap?”

Jesus, Ella, are you kidding?

His heart-stopping smile broadened. He leaned in, grabbed my hand, squeezed it, and said, “Good enough.”

When he got closer, my nerves went into hyperdrive as the amazing smell of him wafted across the minute space separating our bodies. He smelled utterly delicious. A tangy orange mixed with musk that almost had me slanting my head into his neck just so I could nuzzle and fill myself with the scent.

“Come with me, it’s too loud right here,” he said into my ear. “I can’t hear myself think.”

In the next second I was tugged along with him, oblivious to everything but the feel of his hand as it slipped into mine. His skin was warm, the grip like iron as he hauled me away from the dance area.

When he stopped in the hallway between the bar and kitchen, he turned and said, “Better.”

For want of something to say, I simply nodded.

I’m usually not such a silent Sadie. The bar was filled to capacity with everyone drinking and yelling to be heard over the music, so the noise level was jacked way up. But we could have been the only two people in the place. My entire system focused in on him and him alone. I glanced down and noticed he still held my hand. He noticed it too, smiled, and kept right on holding it.

“I can’t believe my good luck at finding you. I feel like I need to apologize for zoning out on you this afternoon,” he said.

“It’s okay. You said you were tired.” I was amazed I got that much out of my mouth in one shot.

Intrigued? I hope so. Here’s the Universal Link if you’d like to read it: DIRTY DAMSELS

Until next time, peeps.

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#backlistThursday 4.8.2021

Today’s backlisted book isn’t that old, but since it isn’t new, either, I figured it would be a goodie to add.

If you like ice cream, summer vacations, and sweet romances, VANILLA WITH A TWIST ( One Scoop or Two series) is for you. Set in the fictional New Hampshire seaside town of Beacher’s Cove, this novella was a pleasure to write – especially since I had to do a lot of research on ice cream flavors…hee hee

Tandy Blakemore spends her days running her New England ice cream parlor, single-parenting her teenage son, and trying to keep her head above financial water. No easy feat when the shop’s machinery is aging and her son is thinking about college. Tandy hasn’t had a day off in a decade and wonders if she’ll ever be able to live a worry-free life.
Engineer Deacon Withers is on an enforced vacation in the tiny seaside town of Beacher’s Cove. Overworked, stressed, and lonely, he walks into Tandy’s shop for a midday ice cream cone and gets embroiled in helping her fix a broken piece of equipment.
Can the budding friendship that follows lead to something everlasting?

Excerpt:

For a few moments, she regarded him with a look his mother would have called insightful. The corners of her eyes narrowed, she dipped her chin a hair, and she pulled her mouth into another appealing pout he was tempted to kiss.

“I bet,” she said after a long, drawn-out sigh, “you were the kind of kid who took apart clocks and fans and vacuum cleaners to see how they worked.”

“It was more washing machines and lawn mowers and anything with a motor, but yeah. I was.”

She shook her head, her own lips forming a lopsided grin. “Your poor mother.”

“She survived.”

Tandy rolled her eyes and shot her hands to her hips. “So it’s working again?” She thrust her chin at the ice cream machine.

“For now.”

“Okay, well, I can live with for now. And you think you know the real reason it’s been acting up?”

“I definitely do. But like I said, the water to the machine needs to be shut off to fix it.”

“Okay. Well, we close at nine.”

“I’ll come back a little before then. Get things ready. Is that okay with you?”

“I guess it’ll have to be.” She bit down on the inside of her cheek as her brows pulled together. “And you’re sure you want to do this?”

“If I weren’t, I wouldn’t offer, Tandy.”

Why her reluctance to have him help was such a turn-on was something he considered while he waited for his ice cream.

Intrigued? I hope so, hee hee.

Until next week, Peeps. Happy reading ~ peg

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#backlistthursday 4.1.2021

SO today’s backlist book isn’t very old or backlisty- it’s from November 2018, but it’s a good little story and I wanted to garner some press for it.

HOPE’S DREAM  is part of the Deerbourne Inn Novellas from the Wild Rose Press. It’s a story of lost dreams and career disillusionment set in a tiny Vermont town during the winter ski season. The h/h, Hope and Tyler, are two people that in the real world would never have met and fallen in love. Thank goodness for fiction! heehee.

Enjoy HOPE’S DREAM 

Hope Kildaire gave up her dream of becoming a nurse practitioner when a car accident killed her father and left her mother an invalid. Working two jobs and caring for her mother leaves the twenty-seven-year-old with no time for fun or relationships. When a law firm representing her paternal grandparents sends her several letters, Hope ignores them. She despises the family who disowned her father and wants nothing to do with them.

Lawyer Tyler Coleman’s job is simply to obtain Hope’s signature on a legal document. Getting it is harder than planned, though, when an unexpected attraction blossoms between them. If Ty is honest with Hope about why he’s in Willow Springs, he’ll fulfill his assignment but may risk hurting her.

The opportunity to have everything she’s ever desired is at Hope’s fingertips. Will her dream come true at the expense of Tyler’s love?

The story is also avialable in audiobook form

As he started back toward the inn, his hands secured in his pockets against the night chill and his neck burrowed under his scarf, he realized he needed to tell her who he was before this went any further. He should have done it tonight, as he’d originally planned. Why he hadn’t was as clear to him as the night sky above: he was frightened once she knew the truth she’d want nothing to do with him.

Could he blame her? While he hadn’t outright lied, he hadn’t told her the truth, either. Which was worse? An intentional fabrication or a lie of omission? Both felt equally wrong right now.

Disappointment had clouded her face when he’d broken their kiss. She felt something for him. That look proved it. He could only hope once she knew who he really was and why he was in her home town, she’d be able to forgive his subterfuge.

Intrigued? here ya go: HOPE’S DREAM

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#backlistThursday 3.25.2021

 

This is the newest of all my backlist books and it just happens to be one of my absolute favs!
MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA came out in 2020 just in time for the Holiday RomCom reading public!!! This bit of a twisted tale of a frenemies to lovers stories is rich with family history and drama, and like all my San Valentino books, comedy as well.

 

 

 

Finding a body in the freezer of the family deli isn’t the way Madonna San Valentino planned to start her day.

Adding insult to injury, the investigating detective is the one guy she’s never been able to forget. After seven minutes of heaven in the back seat of his car when they were teenagers, Tony Roma skipped town without so much as a thanks for the memory.

Just when Madonna thinks the present situation can’t get any worse, Tony is ordered to go undercover at the deli to ferret out a killer. Forced to work together, she vows to keep their relationship cool and professional. But with the sexy, longing looks he tosses her at every turn, Madonna’s resolve is weakening.

With Christmas drawing closer and Tony’s investigation taking an unexpected turn, Madonna is at her wit’s end. Can she really be falling for him again? And will he wind up leaving her broken-hearted and alone like the last time?

 

Advice for surviving in a big Italian family: Never let them see you sweat.

The moment I arrived at the deli I knew something was wrong.

The back door stood opened and unlocked, two things my obsessive/compulsive father made sure never happened. Since I was the first one to arrive every morning at the crack-ass of creation, and had to plug in the security code on the wall box in order to gain entry to the store, the door should have been locked and alarmed.

My daily bread delivery, courtesy of my cousin Regina and her bakery, sat outside the door in a large wooden crate. After grabbing it I hip checked the door wide open.

The second sign something was amiss were the lit lights in the entrance hallway. I arrived at work when it was still dark no matter if it were Daylight Savings time, or Standard, and I routinely had to fumble to find the wall switch and illuminate the back end of the deli.

Not today.

And then there was…the smell.

I’ve been around raw meat my entire life. I grew up in my mother’s kitchen and I’ve worked in the delicatessen my father owns and operates since I was ten years old. The aroma of animal blood is as recognizable to me as my mother’s knock-off L’air du temps. Although, admittedly, mama’s perfume smells way better.

The scent filling the air this morning was…wrong.

“Hello? Is someone here?”

An eerie sense of quiet surrounded me. I put the bread crate down on the linoleum floor and crept along the corridor leading to the front of the store. I slid my hand across the wall, my huge purse positioned in front of me like Wonder Woman’s golden shield of protection.

Being the oldest of six kids and the only girl in the mix, it takes a lot to scare me.

My brothers are, each and every one of them, a pain in the ass to their cores and I’d grown up the victim of their arguably stupid shenanigans too many times to count. Cooked linguini placed in my bed to look like worms; a farting cushion placed on my chair at the dinner table; toothpaste spread on my school lunch sandwich instead of peanut butter. More times than I could remember one of them would hide in my closet then jump out at me when I least expected it. Anything and everything dumb and dumber they could think up to annoy me, they’d done. And still did to this day if they thought they could get away with it. Chronological maturity hadn’t made its way to their brains yet and they all still acted liked little boys when it came to infuriating me.

This spine-tingling sense of unease rippling through me didn’t feel like one of their usual pranks.

But with my brothers, you never know.

 

 

Intrigued? here ya go : MMM

Reviews:

NNLight

Katie O’Sullivan

BookBub 

Until next week, Peeps. ~ Peg

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#BacklistThursday 3.18.2021

So, sticking with the San Valentino theme, this week’s #backlistthursday selection is from the Uncle Sonny side of the family and featured his only daughter, Regina, in CHRISTMAS & CANNOLIS.

With Christmas season in full swing, baker Regina San Valentino is up to her elbows in cake batter and cookie dough. Between running her own business, filling her bursting holiday order book, and managing her crazy Italian family, she’s got no time to relax, no room for more custom cake orders, and no desire to find love. A failed marriage and a personal tragedy have convinced her she’s better off alone. Then a handsome stranger enters her bakery begging for help. Regina can’t find it in her heart to refuse him.

Connor Gilhooly is in a bind. He needs a specialty cake for an upcoming fundraiser and puts himself—and his company’s reputation—in Regina’s capable hands. What he doesn’t plan on is falling for a woman with heartbreak in her eyes or dealing with a wise-guy father and a disapproving family.

Can Regina lay her past to rest and trust the man who’s awoken her heart?

 

from Regina San Valentino ~

“It had been a long, long time since a guy’s hands had been on me in anything resembling a carnal way. My ex had decamped to parts unknown five years ago after signing the divorce papers, and I’d been so busy rebuilding my life that adding any kind of relationship to it wasn’t even a notion.

Besides, with my hovering parents, one of whom worked for me while the other popped in daily to check up on their only daughter, I had enough on my plate fending off the men they wanted to introduce me to. Guys who, for the most part, had shady lifestyles, carried concealed, and owed my father innumerable favors. And by favors, I mean the kind that usually get signed for in blood and paid back the same way.

Welcome to mia famiglia.”

Also available in audio, here: Audible // and on Itunes under the title.

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#backlistThursday 3.11.2021

So while the San Valentino family isn’t exactly a series per se, I do seem to write a  family installation every Christmas or so. The first holiday book was A KISS UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS and stars the Francesca and Joey side of the family.

With Christmas just a few weeks away, Gia San Valentino, the baby in her large, loud, and loving Italian family, yearns for a life and home of her own with a husband and bambini she can love and spoil. The single scene doesn’t interest her, and the men her well-meaning family introduce her to aren’t exactly the happily-ever-after kind.

Tim Santini believes he’s finally found the woman for him, but Gia will take some convincing she’s that girl. A misunderstanding has her thinking he’s something he’s not.

Can a kiss stolen under the Christmas lights persuade her to spend the rest of her life with him?

A KISS UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS is available in ebook, print and audiobook

Reviews:

Goodreads

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Until next time, peeps! Happy Reading ~ Peg

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#backlistThursday 3.4.2021

The final book in the WILL COOK FOR LOVE trilogy is cousin Stacy’s story, CAN’T STAND THE HEAT

For this story, I took Stacy to a reality TV cooking show set in Montana and put her on a working cattle ranch. She agrees to be the associate producer because she’s promised her very own show to produce once this one is in the can. The one drawback? The director is a guy known for his explosive temper and disdain of producers in general. The Montana heat in  July, coupled with the scorching heat that flows from Stacy and Nikko every time they’re together, made this one steamy book for me to write. I needed a few cool showers during this one, peeps! LOL

Blurb: In Peggy Jaeger’s delectable series, delicious food is just an appetizer for life’s main course: the kind of love that feeds your soul.
 
With three successful TV series under her belt, including her cousin Kandy’s, executive producer Stacy Peters is ready to helm her own show. But to make that happen, she has to do her network boss one favor first—spend two months on a ranch in Montana wrangling the notoriously difficult director of Beef Battles. Apparently, he eats producers for breakfast. Yet all Stacy can think when she meets the lean, rugged man is how hungry he makes her . . .
 
Dominic Stamp—Nikko to his very few friends—has had enough interference from TV newbies. And when Stacy climbs out of the car in Montana, he’s not convinced she’s even old enough to drive, much less produce his show. But he can’t deny that the long-legged blonde with the stubborn will and the dazzling smile whets his appetite. And as Stacy proves her talent with the crew and the budget alike, Nikko vows to prove to her that love is on the menu for both of them . . .

 A little snippet…

“I wish you’d do that more often,” he said, his hand circling her upper arm as he turned her, slowly, back to face him.

“What? Leave?”

He stared at her a beat, the line between his brows deepening. “Smile.”

Flabbergasted, she stood, rooted.

“More specifically,” he added, “smile at me. You do at everyone else. From Dixon, to his son; the crew. Even Melora. Everyone, but me.”

“I—”

His grip tightened a little as he pulled her in closer, their torsos almost touching.

“Why? Why can you show everyone else that little piece of yourself, but not me?”

“I…I don’t know how to answer that,” she said. “I know I was thrust on you without you wanting me here. I know you don’t like me, I—“

“That’s not true. I didn’t want to like you,” he admitted. “There’s a difference. You’re a producer. A bottom line watcher. An annoying necessity. Liking you goes against the grain.”

At that she did smile, because she knew it was true.

“See now,” he said, as he slid his other hand up her arm to settle on the back of her neck, fingers curling up into her hair to hold on. “When you do that? When you smile at me like that, so openly, so…freely? I can’t think about anything else.”

A gentle tug and he had her head pillowed in his spread palms as he bent his own down to hers.

Through her glasses, she watched the fine whiskey in his eyes blend with the ink of his pupils as they dilated.

“I haven’t been able to think clearly about anything for the past few days.” His mouth was a whisper from hers. His gaze skimmed from her eyes to her mouth and back again in one slow string of heat. “Except for this.”

She thought she’d be prepared for the feel of his lips on hers again. After all, she’d done little else but reminisce about their texture and taste for days. But she was wrong.

So wrong.

Nothing could have ever prepared her for the way the slight pressure he placed on the back of her neck as he brought her closer sent a shiver of such carnal delight down her spine she almost hummed. Or the way his breath, warm and full, felt as it washed over her cheeks. And she certainly wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of emotions he released within her when he quite expertly parted her lips and deepened the kiss, pulling at her very soul.

No, nothing in her life had equipped her with how to deal with Nikko Stamp’s kiss.

So she simply let go of all thought, fear, and concern and surrendered to it.

Intrigued? You can get your copy here: CSTH

Next week I start another series. Which one? You’ll have to tune in next Thursday to find out!! Heehee. In the biz, that’s called a tease.

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#backlistThursday 2.25.2021

So, we’re now exploring my second series WILL COOK FOR LOVE from Kensington/Lyrical Press. I really loved writing this series. Book 2 is A SHOT AT LOVE and concerns Gemma Laine, the family rebel. Gemma gets herself into some hot water and when she finds herself in the sights of a crime lord, must be placed into government protection. Enter Ky Pappandreos, the smooth, quiet FBI agent who’s ordered to protect her. These two people couldn’t be more different. And that’s why making them fall in love was so much fun for me.

A SHOT AT LOVE ( WIll Cook for Love, Book 2)

Nothing’s impossible when love is on the menu. In Peggy Jaeger’s luscious series, the only thing more tempting than a delicious meal is a truly delectable romance . . .
Look for exclusive recipes in each book! 
 
Photographer Gemma Laine is looking for arresting faces on the streets of Manhattan when her camera captures something shocking—a triple murder. In that moment, she becomes a target for the mob—and a top priority for a very determined, breathtakingly handsome, FBI special agent. With deadlines to meet and photo shoots on her calendar, Gemma chafes at the idea of protection, but every moment she spends under his watchful eye is a temptation to lose herself in his muscular arms . . .
 
With two of his men and one crucial witness dead, Special Agent Kyros Pappandreos can’t afford to be distracted. But Gemma is dazzling—and her connection to Kandy Laine’s high-profile cooking empire makes her an especially easy mark for some very bad people. Keeping her safe is much more pleasure than business, but as the heat between them starts to sizzle, Ky is set to investigate whether they have a shot at love . . .

When he entered the conference room a moment later, he thought he was prepared for the jolt seeing her in the flesh would cause again. He was wrong. The second he opened the door and saw her eyes tracking him like those of a caged animal’s, he realized just how wrong. A subtle, unmistakable, pang of unease sliced right into his midsection, cutting off all circulation except to his groin. With a mental and physical shake, he approached her.

Anger percolated through her from across the room.
“Miss Laine—”

“Why am I still here? I gave my statement. I want my memory card and I want to go home. I have a ton of work to do.”

Ky reached down deep to curb his temper. “I need to clarify a few things first.”

“What things?” She leaned back against the wall, leveling him with a hard stare. “I told your partner everything I remember. In vivid detail.”

“Yes, I read your statement. Please.” He motioned to a chair. “Have a seat.”

“I’d rather stand.”

He couldn’t tell if she was being purposefully obnoxious when her chin tilted up defiantly at him or if it was a character trait. Regardless, he pulled the facing chair from the table and sat.

“You mentioned in your statement you were out walking when you noticed the shooting.”

“No, that’s not correct.” She must have forgotten her reason for standing because she moved back to the chair and settled into it. “I said I was out working and noticed the trio of men coming out of the restaurant.”

Ky knew that. He wanted to see if she’d change any of the details with time.

“The older man had an attention-grabbing face,” she continued, resting her arms on the table. “I’m on the lookout for interesting faces.”

“So you notice him, see his face and decide, what? To take his picture? Just like that?”

She nodded. “It’s what I do. I’m working on a book called Faces of New York.”

“What was so fascinating about his?”

“It wasn’t so much his face as the expression on it,” she said. “He’d just come out of Sam’s. I figured he’d eaten lunch because he was patting his stomach and had a contented, gratified smile on his lips. So I took his picture. A series of them, in fact, as he continued walking.”

“Why did you continue snapping away? You had your shot. Why take more?”

Gemma blew out a breath and leaned back in the chair, arms crossed over her chest again. “Do you know anything about photography?”

“No, not really.”

She sliced a finger through the side of her hair and tucked the strands behind her ears. It refused to settle and fell back across her cheeks the moment she removed her hand.

Intrigued? Here ya go: A SHOT AT LOVE

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