Tag Archives: #books #ebooks

Fall in Love with New England 2019…

I’m so happy today has finally come!! the first FILNE reader and writer conference in 2 years starts today. We have a boatload of wonderful workshops for our readers, a costume party dinner and then trickortreating this evening. Who says kids get to have all the fun!

Last night was an epic swag bag stuffing with over 20 authors and readers helping to stuff this year’s good bag with over 3o items and print copies of fabulous romance books.

If you’re attending, hope to see you around the hotel. I’m sponsoring a romcom table at lunch! Come and join me. 9 Lucky lunchers will get lovely prizes and the chance to win a basket filled with romcom movies, adult beverages and candy for a girl’s night romcom marathon.

I love my life.

Until next time ~ peg

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#RomanceGemsblog My Turn

It’s my turn over on the romance gem’s blog. Come read all about my first baby. You just may smile when you do.

Romance Gems 

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#Booksweeps Contest – Steamy Contemporary Romances

Today, I have a fun surprise I’d like to share with you.

I’ve teamed up with 30 fantastic authors to give away a huge collection of Steamy Contemporary Romances to 2 lucky winners, PLUS a brand new eReader to the Grand Prize winner!

You can win my novel DIRTY DAMSELS, plus books from authors like Piper Rayne. Zoe York, Kacey Shea, and more — just by following me and other great Steamy Contemporary Romance authors on BookBub!

Enter the giveaway by clicking here 👉 bit.ly/SteamyRomance-August2019

And you can follow me on Bookbub or any of my other Social Media sites, as well, here:Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

and watch the trailer for DIRTY DAMSELS my good friend Nancy Fraser made for me:

Good luck and enjoy!

Until next time ~ Peg

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Filed under author promotion, Dirty Damsels, Dot Com Girls Romance, Limitless Publishing, Romance, Romance Books

An oldie but a goodie….

 

I’m off the internet for a few days, but I wanted to repost a few blogs I thought were fun. Here’s one from 2017 on my…voice. My real one, not my writing one! hee hee!

https://peggyjaeger.com/2017/07/19/i-hate-my-voice-but/

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#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 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 5.10.19

Hee hee. I love this picture, don’t you?
Any hoo… It’s #1stkissfriday and today I’m pulling a kiss from DEARLY BELOVED. It’s a little long, but I wanted to give you the feel for the animosity that turns to desire these two have for one another. As a quick set up, they’ve gotten caught in a rain storm which Colleen refuses to come out of until she’s done with a task. Slade is pissed and thinks she’s the type who “doesn’t know when to come in out of the rain,” a character trait he can’t stand.

 

“You know, I can’t figure out if you’re obstinate by nature or you simply don’t like listening to anyone else,” Slade said. He fisted his hands on his trim hips and looked down his perfect nose at me. With his brows touching in the middle of his forehead, he shook his head in disgust. Rainwater flung from his hair with the motion, the cold droplets slapping me in the face.

I flicked a few off my cheek. “Both,” I shot back, letting my own annoyance break through.

It didn’t escape me that even drenched and aggravated the guy was something to look at. How was that fair? I knew—knew—I looked like a drowned poodle. I’d straightened my hair before leaving for the office, but I could hear it frizzing and recurling as I stood there, the humidity and moisture whipping it up into a waterspout of kink. I was sure my mascara had me mimicking a rabid raccoon and God knows what other harried feral creature.

But Slade Harrington looked like a model for a popular men’s fragrance. Any second, I expected him to murmur something in French, like oui or eau.

What was it about this guy that pissed me off to no end but turned me on enough to consider licking him from head to toes at the same time?

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He lowered his voice, dragged in a breath, and raked a hand through his hair from his temple to his neck, slicking it flat against his skull. Like a squeegee, water slid from the tips of his fingers with the movement. “Jesus. We’re drenched.” He looked down at his shirt and pants, and then back to me. His gaze took a slow amble from my head down to my neck, over my breasts and nipples, which were—gulp—as hard and pointed as his were, then farther down. My thin, cotton-blend skirt was literally glued to me from waist to knees. I could only imagine the view he was getting.

Every inch of skin on my body went goose bump crazy under his inspection. Or maybe it was because the rain was so chilly and the day had been so warm.

Nah. The temperature outside had nothing to do with it. The temperature of Slade’s expression though, did.

When he dragged his attention back to my face, the annoyed glare in his eyes changed. Irritation was gone and in its place, want.

Pure, bold, rain-soaked want.

I can’t truthfully say who moved first, but with the next breath I took, his mouth was on mine.

And mine, blessedly, was on his.

During the moments I’d fantasized about what kissing him would be like this past week, I’d imagined all sort of things.

His lips would be firm and forceful or, conversely, tender and soothing.

He’d go slow, savoring the kiss, allowing each of us to get to know the other’s taste, or he’d swoop in and take over, overpowering me—willingly, I’ll add.

So many thoughts ran through my head and every single one of them proved true.

From the moment he put his mouth against mine, all annoyance fled and, with it, the cold. Where moments before I’d been chilled, now a furnace blasted all over me, heating me straight down to my marrow. I craved the warmth, clung to the heat.

Slade’s full lips completely consumed mine. Owned them. Branded them. Never in my life had I been kissed with such…possession. There really was no other word for it.

The sexy mouth I’d daydreamed about was at equal times hard yet soft, insistent yet giving. A thoughtful sigh bounced around my ears, followed by an erotic growl when he parted my lips and plundered. His hands, warm and wet, lifted my jaw, tilted my head back, and changed the angle of the kiss to go deeper, further, to draw out every and any response he could.

And there were quite a few, believe me.

He tasted of the rain—woodsy-fresh like morning dew—and clean. When I snaked my hands up his drenched shirt, kneading all that muscle and strength as I glided upward and then wound my hands around his neck to hold on fast, it never occurred to me I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be standing in a storm, drenched with rain and desire, kissing a man like I’d never kissed a man before. Kissing a man who’d made no secret of the fact I annoyed the crap out of him.

A man who, for all thoughts and speculations to the contrary, was now totally absorbed with kissing me as if I was the last woman he ever would.

I don’t even remember moving, but I felt my back ram into the opened front door, slick with rain, my shoulders flattening against the wood. Slade’s knee eased between my thighs and rubbed side to side along the front part of my lacy thong while his tongue wound with mine and sucked to the same rhythm as the movement of his knee.

This time the groan that echoed around us was mine. His hands moved from my face, up and through my temples to clutch my saturated hair. A gentle tug and he changed the angle of my head again, this time though, his lips left mine to skim across my jaw. The feel of his hot breath along my neck as he made his way to my ear sent tiny shocks and jolts of electricity all through my body. I started to shiver, and it wasn’t because I was cold. About as far from cold as a girl could get, if truth be told.

When Slade let out a smooth chuckle against my neck and then pulled my earlobe between his lips and bit down, the shiver turned to a quake, then a little jump, and I simply lost the tiny bit of sanity I had left.

With more force and ardor than I think I’d ever invested with Vlad, I tugged on the ends of Slade’s hair, still gripped tight in my hands, and yanked his head so his mouth settled against mine again.

I felt a grin split his lips right before I touched the tip of my tongue to his bottom lip. The grin died when he sucked my tongue back into his mouth. That feeling of total possession overtook me again, especially when he slid his hands from my hair all the way down my back to cup my butt. Just as a clap of thunder boomed directly above us, Slade lifted and pressed me into him, so close in fact, I couldn’t tell where his wet clothes ended and mine began.

From shoulders to knees, in one fluid line of connection, our bodies molded together. I can’t begin to imagine how it felt for him to hold me this way, but I can tell you point blank, pressed against all that hard and defined muscle, all that rigid and long length of him—and, oh baby, was there a lot of length!—I felt so desired, so wanted, so bloody turned on, I didn’t care if a twister from Kansas whooshed around us and transported us to Oz as long as I could stand there, held in this man’s arms, and be kissed as if my next breath depended on it.

Look, it had been a long time since I’d tasted desire for, and from, a man. Too long. I’d thought more than once over the past year that Vlad had killed my on button with his lies and meanness. Because of his betrayal, I’d almost forgotten what deep want, that aching, needing longing, I’ll-die-if-I-don’t-have-this- man feeling was like.

For some weird reason, Slade Harrington knew exactly how to turn my sex-switch back to the on position—from zero to eleven with a kiss that shot me out of my shoes.

Another clap of thunder, closer and much louder, boomed above us. This time when I jumped, Slade’s arms tightened around me.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against my ear, then trailed his mouth down to my collarbone. His tongue lapped the rainwater from my skin. When his lips nuzzled against the spot and I felt the subtle tug of sucking, combined with the gentle pressure of his knee between my legs, I swear on all that’s holy and blessed I was a heartbeat from shattering.

I truly think I would have come on the spot, standing up, my panties and the rest of me dripping with lust, if my cell phone hadn’t screamed “Trouble” right at that moment.

The phone call accomplished what the thunder hadn’t, namely, jolted us apart.

I snapped back too quickly, the back of my head careening off the old wooden door, the thwack competing with the crack of the rolling thunder.

Slade’s eyes went wide as soon as I yelled, “Ow!” and he slipped a hand behind my head.

“Are you okay?” He grabbed my shoulders and tried to force me forward while he dipped his head around to the back of me.

I slapped his hands away and gave him a non-too- gentle push. “I’m fine. I need to get this.”

Intrigued? You can get your own copy here: DEARLY BELOVED 

Dearly Beloved was recently named the Long and Short Reviews BOOK OF THE MONTH. You can read the review that sent it over the top, here: Review

And one last brag, I promise! Dearly Beloved came in 3rd Place in the New England Readers Choice awards for 2019 in the Long Contemporary category.

I’m so proud of this book!!! ~peg

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May 10, 2019 · 12:10 am

#LongandShortReviews #WednesdayBloggingChallenge 5.8.19

Topic choices like this one just make my heart go zing!

Today, the writing prompt is  Books I want Youth to discover. So…do you have a couple of hours? Hee hee. Just kidding…not.

I pared my choices down because I really could talk about this subject for a while. The word YOUTH can, to me, mean any age range, so I’m going to cover a few here to be inclusive. The choices I’m laying out are all older books, from the last century even, and not what I would consider popular these days with kids. Which is a shame, because each of these books speaks to universal themes inherent in all children (and adults!). They are all written in language easy to read and understand, and each of these choices is in itself a part of my own youth and growth experience.

In no order, I wish kids (youth) would read these wonderful tales:

So, of course, I start with the book I think should be in every child’s home and read to them by their parents or even by themeselves, over and over until the message is ingrained in their DNA.

The Little Engine that Could . 

Originally published in, I believe, 1941, this is the best story I’ve ever seen about self motivation, and believing in yourself. The confidence that  little engine had in himself is the kind of confidence I wish every single child possessed. I’m 58 years old and I still think of this book and its message when my confidence starts to fail.

Anne of Green Gables

In fact, the entire Lucy Maude Montgomery collection about Anne Shirley. There are many themes explored in these books, but the ones I feel are still topical today are adoption, the plight of homeless and parentless children, acceptance in society when you are different, and the beauty of each person being unique.

Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret.

Maybe it’s because my real name is so similar to the title character. Maybe it’s because the story of 12 year old Margaret is one that mirrored my own life. Maybe it’s because Margaret’s feelings of not fitting in – and of wanting to, desperately – and wanting to be liked were exactly the same emotions and feelings I had at the age of 12. Heck, maybe it’s because she feels the only one who get’s her, who really listens to her is God, just like I did, and still do. Whatever the reason, this book is filled with the universal theme that we all want to loved and appreciated. Plus, there aren’t many books about kids and spirituality that lay out God’s love  so simply  and beautifully.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

I grew up in Brooklyn, NY, just like Francie Nolan. My heritage is Irish, just like Francie’s. I knew firsthand the effects of alcoholism in my family, as does Francie. Is it any one wonder I love this book and wish more kids these days were exposed to it? Yes, it takes place in the last century during a time unlike any other we’ve seen in this country. But again, I go for the universal themes and connectability rampant in the book. This was the book that solidified for me that even if you were poor, considered white trash, and shunned by society, you could still find happiness in every day things, and feel love for those closest to you. Education was the ticket out of poverty and strife, and Francie loved to read – just like I did ( and still do!) Reading for was escape, adventure, knowledge, and beauty.  Betty Smith’s words are as timely now as they were when the book was released in 1943.

“From that time on, the world was hers for the reading. She would never be lonely again, never miss the lack of intimate friends. Books became her friends and there was one for every mood. There was poetry for quiet companionship. There was adventure when she tired of quiet hours. There would be love stories when she came into adolescence and when she wanted to feel a closeness to someone she could read a biography. On that day when she first knew she could read, she made a vow to read one book a day as long as she lived.” 

Love that message!!!

So, those are just 4 books I wish more kids read these days. Let’s see what the other authors in this blog challenge have to say. L&SR

And if you’re looking for me, I can always be found here:

Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

 

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#Long&ShortReviewsWednesdayBloggerChallenge 4.17.19


Today’s prompt was a thinker for me. We had to come up with 10 unusual things about ourselves. I actually think I’m the most boring person on the planet, so this was kinda tough to write. I had to dig really deep and even go back to high school days to come up with anything. So, here goes: 10 unusual things about me ( the most person alive!)

10. I love scary movies

9. my left eye is significantly smaller than my right ( 2 cataract surgeries, and 2 retinal detachments, plus facial fractures as a baby from an accident)

8. I have vocal cord polyps, which is why I sound like a big smoker when I’ve never had a cigarette in my life.

7. I can name every movie made in 1939 ( being a lonely kid made me a big TV movie watcher)

6. I can recite the entire Wizard of Oz movie along with it

5. I have a heightened senses of taste and smell because of an accident I had as a baby

4. I got a perfect English score on the SAT

3. I can sit in full Lotus

2. I can’t whistle, try though I might

1.  I’m a great mimic

Let’s see what some of the other authors in this blog challenge have that’s unusual about them: L&SR

And when I’m going about living my normal, boring days, you can find me here:

Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

Here’s the link to my TELL ME ABOUT YOUR DAMN BOOK podcast interview, just in case you missed it: TMAYDB

and the link to my recent interview on NewHampshirePublicRadio

And I can’t forget the OKRWA 2018 Award video

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#L&SR #WednesdayBloggingChallenge 4.10.19

Today’s blog prompt, Characters I never want to meet, was a hard one for me to wrap my head around. I wondered if it meant characters who are already out in the book reading world that are so heinous and unlikable I wouldn’t want to waste a breath on meeting them. Or… if it’s people who haven’t been written yet, just little nuggets of character profiles.

A conundrum to be sure.

I’m gonna go with my first thought that it’s people who are already alive and walking around in the pages of books who I simply want to avoid at all costs.

Hannibal Lecter for example. I mean, would YOU want to meet a cannibal? I’m kinda chubby and I know he’d be thinking LUNCH whenever he looked at me.  Pass.

Jack Torrance is another one who’d I’d rather not shake hands with. He could have an axe behind his back, at the ready to whip it out and go-a-chopping-crazy. No thanks. Pass.

I’m thinking Amy Dunne is a gal I’d rather not meet up for a chat and a cuppa at the local Starbucks for so many reasons, but the biggest one is anyone who has that expressive a resting bitch face is the kind of person you know is planning 50 ways to make your life miserable while she’s chomping at a biscotti. Yeah…BIG PASS!

And does anyone REALLY want to meet Voldemort? I know I don’t. Creep factor aside, there’s that whole moving to dark side thing that’s so unappealing. Pass. Big Pass. Never-gonna-happen-pass.

Maybe the reason I stick to writing romance is because none of my villains are terrifying. Just nasty and petty. I can deal with nasty and petty. Terrifying? Not so much.

Let’s see who some of the other author/bloggers participating in this challenge want to avoid. L&SR

And please don’t avoid me or my characters! We’re nice people. Really. You can find us here:

Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

Here’s the link to my TELL ME ABOUT YOUR DAMN BOOK podcast interview, just in case you missed it: TMAYDB

and the link to my recent interview on NewHampshirePublicRadio

And I can’t forget the OKRWA 2018 Award video

 

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