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#ConferencePacking…the bane of my existence

So today’s the day I start to try on clothes I haven’t worn in a while ( okay, a year!), figure out how many “travel sized” personal care items I need to buy, do laundry to ensure I have enough underwear to last a week, and find shoes that go with more than one outfit so I don’t have to pack my entire shoe closet.

Stress, they name is Margaret-Mary.

Cause of stress? I need to pack for RWA.

I am, usually, a fabulous packer. I just came back from a week in London with one suitcase and a backpack, and my packing skills are enviable. When you fly international, you’re only allowed so much poundage per stored luggage. I came in under, more than 20 pounds lighter than what they allow.

Score! If the plane had crashed due to overpacking and overweight, it wouldn’t have been because of anything I’d contributed to.

You’d think since RWA is in NYC this year, I wouldn’t have to worry. No planes, no airport parking, just a drive to MetroNorth, hop on a commuter train and then hail a cab from Grand Central Station to the Marriott Marquis.

Easy peasy.

Yeah., not so much.

Backstory: I have 2 torn rotator cuffs and a bunch of ancillary damage to both shoulders. Due to scheduling issues I’m not having my first surgery to repair one shoulder until the end of august. What that means is that I’m severely limited in how much I can pull/lift/push with my arms. I’ll be attending RWA solo, as always, and getting my suitcase filled with a week’s worth of stuff and then carrying it to NYC is going to be a pain in the…shoulder.

So that’s one point.

Point 2 is since I haven’t been able to exercise much due to the pain and immobility issues of the shoulders, I’m a little….chubbier….than usual, and I haven’t bought any new clothes, so I need to be able to fit into the stuff from last year. And fit into stuff where I won’t look like  a stuffed sausage!!! Can you lose 4o pounds in a weekend?

Yeah, I didn’t think so.

Le sigh….

Oh well. Let me go try stuff on and see what — it anything — fits and doesn’t make me look like a tent.

And don’t forget to come see me in NYC. I’m doing 2 book signings this year:

And

Come see me and get a free book!!!

Until next time ~ Peg

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#LongandShortReviewsWednesdayBloggingChallenge 7.10.19

So if it’s Wednesday, it’s time for a L&SR blogging challenge.

This weeks’ topic? Favorite authors in the ROMANCE genre.

Honestly, I could write this one in my sleep while having a nightmare and sleepwalking.

The number one name on my list is (no surprise to anyone who knows me): Nora Roberts and her literary doppelganger JDRobb.

No one. No. One. Writes like the doyenne of romance. Yes, she head hops, but so what? Yes, some of her stories, esp.  the paranormals can be…farfetched. SO what, again? The recent plagiarism lawsuit she is involved with proves there are some writers so intimidated by her success and brilliance, they will take her words as their own to get ahead. As JD Robb, Roberts has given the romance reading world two of the best characters it has ever seen: Eve Dallas and Roarke. Le sigh…Roarke.

‘Nuff said.

The second name on my list is a contemporary romance writer, Lauren Layne.

 

The very first time I ever picked up a Layne book as a Netgalley selection, I was hooked after the first page. It’s been that way with every subsequent book I’ve read of hers. Snappy, witty dialogue, delicious love scenes, and a casts of friends who would do anything for any one of their group. I simply adore the way she phrases a sentence.

For historical romance, a genre I don’t read much of, but that I love when it’s done right, you can’t go wrong with Elizabeth Hoyt and Eva Leigh.

And although she writes both historicals and contemporaries, I prefer Lisa Kleypas’ historical books. Lots of sexy spice and wicked, wonderful heros!

So, I read romance. A lot of romance. Let’s see what some of the other authors in this challenge read, and who their fav authors are: L&SR

Don’t forget, DIRTY DAMSELS is available now, in KU and at these sites:

Amazon US:

Amazon CA:

Amazon UK:

Amazon AU:


One famous book reviewer called it the best romance she’s read all year!! That’s some praise, believe me! Get your copy today.

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This never gets old and is always exciting!

So, just when my newest book released yesterday, DIRTY DAMSELS,

I received notification form the First Coast Romance writers chapter of RWA that I won the Contemporary Romance category for 40K-56K word books for CHRISTMAS & CANNOLIS! Woot Woot!

I’m starting to think maybe this writing career will pan out in the end! hee hee

Blurb:

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?

Excerpt:

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 familia.

Buy Links:

Amazon//  B*N // Google Play // Kobo // itunes

Until next time ~ Peg

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Filed under Contemporary Romance, Foodie, Romance, Romance Books, WIld Rose Press AUthor

#teaserTuesday

You could have guessed where today’s #TeaserTuesday was coming from before you even clicked on my blog, couldn’t you? hee hee.

Here’s a little snippet of conversation between Ella and Buddy that I love, which is kinda good since I wrote it!

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he said when I got to the table. A weird sense of déjà vu crept up my neck as I slid into the booth across from him without touching him. Once I was settled he sat back down

“I debated with myself about whether I should,” I admitted.

The waitress shot over to the table, took my coffee order and left. Silence shifted between us, until I broke it. “How did you find out where I live?”

“Aunt Cal. She was worried when you left so suddenly. When I dropped her off at a cocktail party, she ordered me to make sure you were okay, gave me your address and, well, here we are.”

“Oh.”

You could have sliced the air around us. It was rife and thick with tension, silence, and in my case, worry.

“Ella,” Buddy finally said, on a sigh. He folded his hands on top of the table and a quick, hot flash of them trailing across my naked skin popped into my head. “At least now I know your name.”

My gaze shot to his face, registered the wry, almost shy smile across his lips.

“You knew my name.”

“No, I didn’t. It was only after I woke up the next morning I realized it.”

I frowned. “But you said my name. Twice that I can remember.”

His own eyebrows lifted. “No I didn’t.”

“You called me Cynderella. Once in the penthouse and then at Diablo.”Shock takes many forms on a face. Buddy’s was the classic kind: jaw dropping, mouth falling open, eyes bugging wide with disbelief.

“Your name is Cinderella? For real?”

I get this reaction a lot. “It’s spelled with a “y” but, yes. If you didn’t know it, why did you call me that?”

With a shake of his head, he trailed a hand down his temple to rest on the back of his neck. “Sweetheart, the first time I saw you, you were cleaning the fireplace and your cheek was covered in soot. I wiped it away with my handkerchief. Calling you Cinderella was a joke, said in the moment.”

A little niggle of uneasiness danced in my tummy. “What about at the club?”

His beautiful mouth twitched at the corners. “I wasn’t certain it was you until I got closer. The name just popped out. You never told me your real name. Not once.”

Intrigued? You can preorder your copy here.

here’s the link for the Kindle version: Kindle 

Buy you can also get a print copy here: POD

Costs: KU ( free with subscription)’ KINDLE: 3.99 and POD 12.99

and if you haven’t seen it yet, here’s the trailer  made for my uber-talented writing friend, Nancy Fraser

Until Next time ~ Peg

 

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#1stKissFriday 6.21.19

It just stands to reason that since I’m promoting my upcoming DIRTY DAMSELS release, I might as well show you the first kiss between Ella and Buddy, no?

Hee hee.

Problem is…I really can’t. This blog is billed at PG13 and the first kiss between these two occurs during a time that’s…not. ( PG 13, that is!!!)The second kiss is equally as sexy, so I can’t show that one, either.

Sorry! ( Not, sorry!)

To make up for it, here’s a little snippet between them that’s fairly tame…maybe!

In a smooth move he pulled me into his arms, the length of our bodies touching.

“You don’t have to thank me, Ella. I’m just happy I could put that beautiful smile back on your face.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “And it sounds like it’s about time someone took care of you for a change.”

Can I just tell you how I almost melted into a puddle at those words?

Without thinking I shouldn’t – for so many reasons – I lifted up on my toes and pressed my lips against his, just as I had in the hotel room. Kissing him for the first time at midnight when I knew what was about to happen between us had been a new and titillating experience. But now I knew how he tasted, how amazing his lips and tongue felt mating with mine, and anticipation pushed aside all the thoughts of why I shouldn’t be doing this with this man again.

I hadn’t known who he was before or what the consequences of being with him could be. Now I did.

And you know what? I didn’t care.

His hands tightened around my waist pulling me even closer. The beat of his heart quickening drummed through his chest and pounded against mine. He kept the kiss sweet, apparently giving me the choice to deepen it.

I did.

Some inner wicked spark made me swipe at his lower lip with the tip of my tongue, then drag along the seam separating his two lips. When they parted for me on a breath, I dove in.

The kiss went from sweet and thoughtful to frenzied and mind-blowing in a nanosecond. One of his hands ran up my spine to cup the back of my neck, the other dipped lower to mold over my ass. I let my head fall backward into his able grip while Buddy changed the angle of the kiss, allowing him even greater access to my mouth. All of my mouth.

With his tongue twined around mine he tugged at it with tiny pulses, the motion striking a flame deep in my core. My legs grew restless and the bubble of need churning in me sought relief as my hips pushed in even closer to his body. The hand at my butt squeezed. Hard. At the same time Buddy pressed me against the counter and slid his knee between my quaking knees. The weight of him against me, coupled with the erotic motions of his tongue dancing with mine pushed all coherent thought from my mind. All I could do was feel and respond to his touch.

Intrigued? you’ll be able to read more when DIRTY DAMSELS releases on 7.2.19. Preorder links should be available soon and you know I’ll post them when they are.

For now, come back on Monday, June 24 for the big cover reveal! I can’t wait to share it with you.

 

Until next time ~ Peg

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Filed under Author Branding, Contemporary Romance, Dirty Damsels, Dot Com Girls Romance, Limitless Publishing

Through the Red Door is #0nsale Get your copy today!

I love when I find a great book. I love it even more when the author is one of my Wild Rose Press Sistahs!   And the best? When that great book by that fab author is ON SALE!!!! Sadira Stone is having such a sale!

99-Cent Sale! Through the Red Door, Book One in the Book Nirvana series, is just 99 cents (eBook only) on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and iTunes from May 31st through June 13th.

Fans of steamy contemporary romance, bookshops, and sexy historical artwork will love this tale of new beginnings after grief.

Blurb:

Letting him inside could be her salvation…or her undoing.

Clara Martelli clings to Book Nirvana, the Oregon bookshop she and her late husband Jared built together. When rising rents and corporate competition threaten its survival, her best hope is their extensive erotica collection, locked behind a red door. In dreams and signs, her dead husband tells her it’s time to open that door and move on. When a dark and handsome stranger’s powerful magnetism jolts her back to life and he wants a look at the treasures of that secret room, she can’t help but want to show him more.

Professor Nick Papadopoulos is looking for historical erotica. Book Nirvana’s collection surpasses his wildest dreams, and so does its lovely owner. A widower, he understands Clara’s battle with guilt, but their searing chemistry is too strong to resist. Besides, he will only be in town for two weeks, not long enough for her to see beyond the scandal that haunts his past.

 

Here’s a peek inside:

Clara and Jared were adventurous lovers, but this was beyond anything they’d tried, or even imagined. She turned the book sideways and peered closer at the drawing. Something touched her shoulder and, startled, she squeaked like a little girl and slammed the book shut.

Beside her stood Nick, the smutty professor, holding a plate with two scones. Was that a blush coloring his chiseled cheeks? With his deep olive complexion, it was hard to tell. She lowered her gaze and found herself looking right at his crotch.

Damn it!

With no safe place to direct her gaze, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Sorry, Clara. Beautiful women bring out my devilish side. Please forgive me.” He slid a new scone onto her empty plate, then sat beside her. “I guess Shunga isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.”

“Shunga?”

Nick nodded. “This type of painting or woodblock print. There’s usually a funny text to go with it.” He balanced the book between them, resting on the arms of their two chairs, then glanced at her, an eyebrow raised.

Okay, Clara, time to put on your big girl panties. You can handle this.

She nodded.

Nick flipped to a new page. “The beautiful costumes and hair arrangements date from the Edo era, roughly the 1600s through the mid-1800s. And here’s the text.” He pointed to columns of delicate Oriental writing.

“Can you read it?”

“Not very well. I have a friend here at the university who can help with the translations. This really is an extraordinary book.” He sipped his coffee and flipped the page.

“Are their, um, private parts always so large?”

He shot her another devilish grin. “Always. You know, it’s funny. In European artwork, male genitals are often unusually small, compared to…” He glanced down at his own lap.

She followed his gaze, then jerked her eyes away. Her voice creaked like a twelve-year-old boy’s. “Yes, I’ve—uh—I’ve noticed.”

“But in Shunga, all the genitals are outsized.”

“Doesn’t that scare women away?”

“On the contrary—these drawings were presented in ‘Pillow Books’ designed to instruct young couples in the art of love.”

Author Bio:

Ever since her first kiss, Sadira’s been spinning steamy tales in her head. After leaving her teaching career in Germany, she finally tried her hand at writing one. Now she’s a happy citizen of Romancelandia, penning contemporary romance and cozy mysteries from her home in Washington State. When not writing, which is seldom, she explores the Pacific Northwest with her charming husband, enjoys the local music scene, belly dances, plays guitar badly, and gobbles all the books. Visit Sadira at www.sadirastone.com.

I want to hear from you!

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#1stKissFriday 5.17.19

Today’s first kiss is from my newest novella, HOPE’s DREAM (Deerbourne Inn #2).

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?

 

“Well.” He buried his hands deeper into his jacket pockets. “I can see for myself you’re fine. You’ve had a full day, so I’ll let you get on home. Thanks again for the great lesson this morning. And for keeping me company while you worked.”

“It was nice to have someone to talk with, so in reality, I should be thanking you. And for seeing that I was safe.”

She wasn’t sure why, but when his cheeks darkened and his chin and gaze dropped down again at her words, she was utterly enchanted.

Without thinking why she shouldn’t, Hope stretched up, intending to kiss his cheek. At the moment right before her lips touched his skin, Tyler lifted his head and turned toward her. The kiss meant for his face landed squarely across his lips instead.

They both went stone still at the contact.

She’d put no heat behind the kiss. After all, it wasn’t as if she were kissing a man she was involved with. No, she’d simply planned it as a sweet way to thank him for being so kind and solicitous toward her, as she would to anyone she considered a friend.

Why, then, didn’t this feel like a chaste kiss between friends?

Why, then, did she feel as if she’d been dropped into a spewing volcano?

And why, then, did the thought of breaking the kiss leave her cold and lonely?

Tyler kept his hands in his pockets, never moving closer, and yet she felt enveloped by him as if he’d wound her into his arms and pulled her against his body. He let out a deep, long breath, the warm air drifting over her face and sending little tingles of…something…straight down her spine. Anticipation? Expectation? Desire? She had no clue, but Hope felt more alive and more aware than she had in years.

A tiny gasp pushed from deep within her when Tyler shifted his head, changing the angle of the kiss.

His lips parted, the taste of hops and barley riding on his breath as she breathed him in. He kept the kiss light, never pushing her into more, giving her all the control of where it went.

Hope had no idea how long they stood there under the bright streetlamp on the empty corner. It could have been a minute. It could have been an hour. The notion briefly blew through her mind that they were out in the open in a town where everyone knew her and liked nothing more to do on long winter nights than gossip. As quick as it came, the knowledge that she didn’t care a whit countered it.

The jarring blare of her cell phone blasted through the silence around them. They both jerked back at the same time.

Tyler’s eyebrows were pressed together in the center of his forehead, the eyelids under them blinking at a rapid staccato pace, his lips parted ever so slightly. Hope would bet a month’s tips her face had the same kind of confusion crossing it.

Intrigued enough to want to read more? Here’s where you can get your own copy of Hope’s Dream:

Amazon// Nook //itunes//  Kobo //  // Google Play

And as always, you can connect with me here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

 

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#1stKissfriday 5.3.19 Can’t Stand The Heat

There’s nothing I like more than an opposites attracts trope, and in Can’t Stand the Heat ( book 3 in the Will Cook for Love Series), I had a doozy of a bi-polar couple! And by that I mean they were at two opposite poles of the personality spectrum. Stacy, cool and calm, nothing fazes her and everyone loves her, and Nikko, angry, gruff, prone to outbursts and the air could make him mad! But there’s a reason for his arrogance and Stacy is just the gal to figure out what it is. This snippet is a little longer than usual but because of the dynamics of their budding relationship, I wanted to present it in its entirety.

He wasn’t looking at her now with his usual aggravated glare, or even the doubtful one he’d given her just moments before. Nor was his expression simple curiosity at her expertise.

No, what was in his eyes was something she’d never expected to see from this man: need.

A stab of unexpected hunger, so piercing and swift, sliced right through her midsection and dropped lower, tickling the area between her thighs.

And the hunger had nothing to do with the fact she hadn’t eaten anything in hours.

Nikko took a step forward, then another, until he stopped directly in front of her.

Stacy had to tip her head back to maintain eye contact with him. Hypnotized by the intensity in his eyes, she couldn’t look away from it; didn’t want to.

“Yes,” he said, his breath drifting over her, making her insides flutter like a flimsy curtain battling a sudden breeze. “I remember that. I remember you massaging my leg for some time.” He moved in closer, their torsos just a hair’s width from her breasts scraping along his chest.

“I remember the feel of your hands on my leg. Kneading. Rubbing. Your fingers, gliding along my muscles, up and down. Helping me. Easing my pain.”

“I—I…” She backed up a step and hit the dresser, her spine flattening against it. She braced her hands behind her, the tips of her fingers landing across one drawer. “I’m glad I did. Help, I mean.”

Was that her voice? It sounded as if she’d just run a marathon. Uphill.
 In thin air.

Nikko’s hands rose, slowly, purposefully, and came to rest on the top of the dresser, bracketing her between them, effectively imprisoning her. With every breath she took now, her torso grazed his.
His knees bumped hers as his head lowered, his eyes never moving from her own.
“Easing my pain,” he repeated softly, as if she’d hadn’t spoken, “and making me…want.” His lips floated a breath above hers, then touched hers once, just a brief buss; a sample; a promise. “Want…you.”

In the next breath he fulfilled that promise by resting his mouth fully against hers. Soft yet powerful, seductive and masterful, his lips glided over hers. Pressed. Savored.

Asked.

Stacy answered by relaxing against him, moving into the kiss without thought, without reservation, without worry.

He kissed like a man who knew what he was doing. He demanded nothing of her than to simply let him pleasure her mouth, and yet she poured everything inside her, offered every bit of herself into kissing him back without the slightest bit of hesitation or concern.

He shifted, changed the angle of his head, and lifted his hands from the dresser to cup her cheeks between them. Tipping her head back, her body arched as he deepened the kiss, greedily parting her lips with his tongue then forging between them, overwhelming her, claiming her.

Under the thin robe her nipples came to two hard points as his tongue tugged and wound with hers. He tasted like…nothing she could put a name to. Full-bodied, like the thirty-five-year-old port her father favored after dinner; sweet and refreshing like Grandma’s orange sorbet, her favorite dessert; savory and woodsy like air in a forest after a quick, unexpected downpour.

A fleeting thought that maybe, just maybe, Nikko didn’t dislike her as much as she’d believed flew through her mind.

Her hands developed a will of their own as they danced up his broad, rock-hard chest, and wound around his thick neck to grip his hair. Fisting it, she hung onto the ends as if her life depended on it. As if she’d crash back to earth if she let go.

His fingers drifted along the column of her throat, across her shoulders, down her back, to settle, through her robe, on her butt. Molding his hands to her rounded flesh, he pulled her in closer, folding her into him and letting her know just how much what he was feeling wasn’t dislike.

Not even close.

Except for her thong, she was naked under the silk robe and as his hands glided over the material, whispered over her body, the luxurious feel of the fabric rubbing against her bare skin shot erotic flares all along her spine, straight down to her toes.

While his tongue mated with hers, his hands slipped under the hem of the short garment to cup the bare skin he found there.

As she’d massaged the muscles and sinew over his leg the night before, he returned the favor, squeezing and kneading her butt in his warm, firm grasp. For a heartbeat, Stacy tensed, her gluteal muscles instinctively tightening. The touch of a man’s hands so intimately pressed against her flesh wasn’t something she was used to.

In the next instant, spurred on by the gentle, thorough pressure of his fingers, she relaxed and pushed in even closer, nothing separating their bodies but their clothes.

Nikko slipped one finger under the strip of her thong, tugged it to the side, and with another traced a line down along the cleft between her cheeks. Her knees buckled when he thrust a knee between her thighs, forcing them to open for him, pressing intimately against her. She could feel the soft denim of his jeans through the tiny wisp of the thong’s lace panel and when he began rubbing his knee across her mound, her insides turned to melting gold.

Good Lord.

Every nerve fiber in the lower half of her body stood straight up at attention. Stacy widened her stance as much as she could. It was then she realized she was standing on the very tips of her toes. Nikko bore most of her weight as she leaned against him.

He shifted again, reached down, and dragged his finger along the heat pouring from her core, now separated and open to his touch.

A guttural moan, deep and filled with longing, escaped in the air as his lips left hers to trail down and nuzzle the sweet spot behind her ear. He tugged the lobe between his lips and bit down, while his wicked and persistent finger dared to dip into the long, wet length of her.

And she was wet.

Drenched, in fact.

His strong, steady finger glided from one end of her to the other, slipping across her flesh and through every defense she had.

A quick thought that nothing had ever felt so good, so god-blessed good as Nikko’s hands on her skin, came to her.

She clutched the ends of his hair tighter, her breaths shallow and fast as his fingers dragged along her, their rhythm timed to perfection with the movement of his tongue in her mouth.

The air around her exploded with the echo of a deep, reverberating groan.

Just as she realized she’d been the one to make the sound, the room was shattered by a blare of static from her walkie-talkie.

“Stacy? Stacy? You copy?”

Nikko jerked his head back, surprise and anger mixing on his face as he heaved his gaze from her face to the device resting on the bed, and then back to her.

A well of boiling heat suffused his half-closed eyes as he gazed down at her. His lips were swollen and kiss-slick-wet, and when his tongue flicked out and ran across his top lip and then the bottom, as if savoring the taste of her, Stacy’s breath caught.

He still had her pinioned against the dresser, one hand caressing the nape of her neck, the other burrowed between her legs.

“Stacy? You there?”
Reality washed over her like a tidal wave.
“I—I have to get that.” She pushed against his chest, tried to slide from his hold.
The man was as solid as a fortress. He stood, stone-still and immobile.

Intrigued? You can order your copy here, along with  the other WIll Cook For Love books,

COOKING WITH KANDY and A SHOT AT LOVE

     

and one thing before you go: I just found out ( yesterday!) that CAN’T STAND THE HEAT is a finalist in the Desert Rose RWA GOLDEN QUILLS Contest for 2019!

So exciting! ~Peg

 

 

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Filed under Alpha Hero, Author, Characters, Contemporary Romance, Cooking, Family Saga, Food lover, Foodie, Kensington Publishers, love, Lyrical Author, Romance, Romance Books, Strong Women, The Laine Women