Tag Archives: #ChristmasRomCom

#GoddessFishBlogtour Day 2 for MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA

Day 2!!! Loves these tours and finding new blogs, bloggers, and ( hopefully) readers.

Today I’m over on Literary Gold – it’s a first time for me here, so please stop by and support the blog and the post! Thanks, oodles, peg

And don’t forget: MMM is up for preorder right now, here: MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA

Until tomorrow, peeps ~ Peg

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#tuesdayTeaser 8.4.2020 – WIP

In order to be a real tease(r) I figured I give you a taste of the Christmas book I’m releasing independently this year. It’s in final edits and I don’t have a cover yet, but I finally decided on a title after putting up a poll on my facebook page : MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA. Just from that you can surmise it’s a RomCom!

Here’s the burb, then the little tease from between the pages:

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: Family comes first, last, and always. No excuses.

I sent up a prayer to St. John the Silent in the hope it would keep my father from divulging what Tony had informed us about Chico. I should have saved myself the trouble because with no thought to the promise he’d given the good detective, my father vomited everything up to my uncles.

Christ on the cross, what a mess,” Joey said, rubbing his fingers over his eyebrows.

“I heard’a this piece’a work, Archetti,” Sonny said after sipping his espresso. “Low-level drug scum. Got shanked. Good riddance.”

I was cut short from adding something when my mother blasted into the room.

And that’s not an exaggeration.

Grace Liliana Chicollini San Valentino is a force of nature. There’s really no other way to describe her.

At five foot eight, she towers above all her siblings, leading some in the family to ponder if nonna had done the nasty with the milkman when nonno was off fighting the Fascists. She’d been born and blessed with the northern Italian DNA of fair hair, blue eyes, and light skin, unlike my father’s Sicilian genes, which were dark, dark, and darker. I’d always considered it a crime against nature my brothers all took after my mother while I got the lion’s share of Daddy’s genetic makeup.

At sixty, my mother appeared ten years younger in any light. Nary a line warped her skin, due to the religious rubbing of extra virgin olive oil she applied to her face and neck nightly. When I’d been a little girl and plagued with night terrors, the familiar smell of my mother’s skin while she hugged me, soothed away the fears. It’s probably the reason to this day pizza or pasta dripping in oil still calms my soul.

What it does to my ass is another story entirely.

My mother has miraculously kept the figure she’d been gifted with when she sailed through her teen years, even after birthing six kids. Breasts like a screen siren’s, a tiny waist, and hips built for pregnancy, my mother’s silhouette is a classic hourglass and she still dresses in ways that accentuate her assets. The movie star bombshells of Hollywood’s heyday have nothing on my mama for natural sexiness.

As a teen, being her daughter hadn’t been easy. My brother’s friends all fell in pubescent lust with mama. Standing next to her I paled in the female comparison department and looked more like another of her sons than her darling daughter.

But she had a heart of gold and when she loved you it was for life. That military expression I’ve got your six could have been devised for mama because no matter what stupid things my brothers had done, any trouble they’d gotten into, and even through my turbulent and emotional teen years, she’d always had our backs.

“Louie. Louie,” she shouted as she blew like a sirocco into the room. “I just heard from Frankie about a dead guy at the store. Mi amore! Your heart. Are you okay? You ain’t hurt are ya?”

She flung her fur coat off and it landed on the floor in a heap behind her. Wrapping her arms around my father, who’d stood the moment her worried voice boomed through the back door, she cried, “Are you okay?” She ran her hands over his head, down his shoulders, to his chest, her gaze raking along with her movements, making sure all his parts were intact and he wasn’t spouting arterial blood.

My father, ever calm and controlled, took her hands with his and brought them both to his lips. After he kissed each one he continued to hold them as he told her, “I’m fine, Gracie. I’m okay. It was Donna who found Chico, not me. And he was already dead.”

My mother whipped her head in my direction. With her forehead a mass of furrows and her eyes pinched at the corners, she pulled a hand from my father’s grip and grabbed my arm. “You okay, bambina?”

I squeezed her hand and nodded. Then, without any warning, an unusual need to fall into her arms and cry overcame me. When a sob escaped me full-force, she pulled out of my father’s hold, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth, grabbed me, and hauled me against her chest, my nose crushing into her well-supported cleavage.

Her arms were like steel traps and she kept me glued to her body while she rubbed my back and cooed in Italian. A quick whiff of her knock-off L’air du temps combined with a hint of garlic and I closed my eyes as the tears fell.

I’m not gonna lie: as a thirty-four year old, grown-ass woman, nothing made me feel better when I was off-kilter than when my mama held me in her arms. I’m not one iota ashamed or embarrassed to admit it.

As I cleaved to her she asked my father, “You’re sure you’re okay?” He told her he was, then, “Why don’t you take Donna into the kitchen, mi amore? Get her something hot to drink. It’s been a long morning for her.”

My mother nodded then slipped an arm up and around my shoulders. “Come on, bambina. Let the boys talk.”

I allowed her to propel me into the kitchen she’d had remodeled the year before.

“Sit.” She pointed to one of the breakfast bar chairs.

I grabbed a paper napkin from the holder on the marble topped counter, did as she commanded and sat, then swiped at my wet eyes.

This is mama’s domain. Daddy may run a successful deli and is an amazing cook in his own right, but Mama rules the kitchen in our house. When nonna was alive she could be very stingy with any kind of praise, but she always complimented my mother on her cooking skills, honed—of course—at nonna’s knee.

Moving with the finesse of one who knows where every single item is to be found in her world, Mama filled the teakettle then put it on the ceramic-topped stove to boil. She didn’t even look when she reached into one of the cupboards and pulled down two porcelain cups with one hand, the other disappearing into one of the pottery containers on the counter that held the teabags.

I sat, silent, watching her move with efficiency from one task to the other, and marveled as I’d done my entire life at what a dichotomy she was. While she had the body of a pampered goddess and could cook like one of the world’s finest Italian chefs, she wasn’t – what my Uncle Sonny often remarked – the sharpest tool in the drawer. I’d always thought this was mean, but in reality, it was God’s truth. My mother wasn’t a member of Mensa – not even close—and on any given day she was known to pop out with things that made most of us cringe or she’d ask a question a bit too intrusive for the person being asked. She had a habit of saying exactly what came to the front of her mind at any given moment with no regard to filtering it. This was one of the reasons my father never let her work in the deli. She couldn’t be trusted around the customers to self-censor. But, despite this one flaw, he adored her, as did I.

She reached into the cabinet under the sink and grabbed the bottle of brandy she kept there for emergencies. When my nonna had been alive, the bottle had gotten a great deal of use, especially after one of her visits. Mama poured way more than a shot-glass full into my teacup after adding the boiling water. She let it steep for less than a minute then handed it to me.

“Drink this. And then tell me everything ‘cause I know your daddy won’t. He’ll gloss over details thinking he’s protecting me.” She waved a hand in the air with a dismissive flick.

Intrigued? More to come when I have a cover, but I’m thinking an October release. I’ll let ya know.

Until next time, peeps ~ Peg

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A Christmas in July WIP to talk about….

Since we are officially halfway done with this horrendous year and the Christmas holidays are a scant 173 days away, I figured now would be a good time to jump on the Christmas in July bandwagon and talk up my soon-to-be-released 2020 Christmas Romance.

Nothing like a little self promotion to the start the week with, no? Hee hee

So, the title of the book is MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS & MOZZARELLA and takes place a month before, and leading up to, Christmas. This book was written, for the most part, prior to the Covid 19 pandemic that seems to be changing the world in every conceivable way, but I did not include any mention of it in the book because….I didn’t want to. It’s that simple.

Here’s the working blurb for right now – I may change it a bit as I get closer to publication:

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 the 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 starting to weaken.

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 windup leaving her broken hearted and alone like the last time?

It’s a RomCom and even though there’s a murder and an investigation within the plot line, the majority of the story is about these two, their feelings for one another, and family.

When I have the cover you know I’ll share it! Stay tuned in the coming months for teasers and snippets.

Until next time, peeps ~ Peg

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#FreeAudiocodes for your #romance listening pleasure…

A few times in the past I’ve written blogs about the benefits of being a widely disbursed author. The days when we read only print books is past. These days we have electronic devices to read on and we have the growing use of audiobooks.

Just a few years ago I was listening to an audio book on cassette tape in the car during a long trip. That mode of listening has pretty much gone the way of the dinosaur and VCR’s, peeps. Now, AUDIBLE rules and you can download, listen, and enjoy millions of books in every genre right on one of your e-devices.

Several of my books have already made their way to audio and you can check out my Amazon list for those that have, but today I want to give you all a little present. My wonderful publisher, THE WILD ROSE PRESS, has made a number of FREE codes available for two of my most downloaded and read books, CHRISTMAS AND CANNOLIS, and THE VOICES OF ANGELS.

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?

Love is the last thing Carly Lennox is looking for when she sets out on her new book tour. The independent, widowed author is content with a life spent writing and raising her daughter. When newscaster Mike Woodard suggests they work on a television magazine profile based on her book, Carly’s thrilled but guarded. His obvious desire to turn their relationship into something other than just a working one is more than she bargained for.

Mike Woodard is ambitious, and not only in his chosen profession. He wants Carly, maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything or anyone else. As he tells her, he’s a patient man. But the more they’re together, Mike realizes it isn’t simply desire beating within him.  

Carly Lennox is the missing piece in his life. Getting her to accept it – and him – may just be the toughest assignment he’s ever taken.

I’m gifting whoever wants them with free codes below. Just click on the link and follow the instructions for download. And, because my life is filled with marketing these days, if you enjoyed the listening experience of the book, please write a review on Amazon or Goodreads (I’ve provided those links below too, just to make it easier.)

Bless you all and I hope you enjoy what you read AND hear from me! Hee hee

CHRISTMAS AND CANNOLIS Audio Link: here

THE VOICES OF ANGELS Audio Link: here

For Reviews:
C&C  Amazon // Good reads // Bookbub

TVoA Amazon // Good reads // Book bub

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It’s #blackfriday and I’ve got a sale for ya! Funny how that worked out!

Sometime I get things right: this is one of those times. Today is the number one sale day of the year and I’ve actually got a book ON SALE!!!

If you’re looking to gift someone a holiday romance/RomCom, or even if you’re ready to take a break from all the shopping you did today and just relax with a good book, CHRISTMAS AND CANNOLIS is just #99cents at Amazon  B&N  and Apple books starting today.

I’m so proud of this little story of love, loss and finding happiness because it’s won a ton of awards this past year, including the 2019 NERFA Award, and it was recently announced that it was the winner of the International Digital Awards for 2019. And while I’m uber-proud that it’s done so well, I simply just love the story and want to share it with readers everywhere at this Holiday Season.

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?

I’m so pleased to announce that CHRISTMAS AND CANNOLIS also won first prize in International Digital Awards 2019.

Here’s video clip of the winning entries:

Happy shopping and reading, everyone!
Until next time ~ Peg

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#SundaySnippet 11.17.19

Well, you had to know I was going top up a little sumthin’ sumthin’ from my current book sale, didn’t you? Hee hee.

A KISS UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS is on sale right now for 99cents at Amazon // iBooks // Nook. It’s a great little story to gift to the romance book lover on your Holiday list – or for yourself if you’re looking for a fun RomCom with a message to escape with for a few hours.

This scene is when Gia meets the guy who she believes is her new parish Priest.

He came toward me and I could see every ripple of muscle, every action and reaction of his gait, every blink of his eyes, as it happened. Detailed, distinct, delicious.

The bright sun shone low due to the hour, but it haloed around his form, bathing him in light.

He looked like an angel.

A dressed-all-in-black angel, but an angel, nonetheless.

“Need some help?” he asked when he was within a foot of me.

I still hadn’t moved, my fingers cemented around the ladder rungs. I couldn’t feel them anymore. Merda, I couldn’t feel anything I was so numb from just looking at him.

But I could hear. My blood, as it river rafted crazily through my temples; my heart drumming like a heavy metal band in my chest.

And his voice. Mio Dio, his voice.

When I was six I had a terrible chest cold. Wheezing, choking on phlegm, unable to cough anything up. The doctor told mama to keep me warm and hydrated and the cold would ride itself out in time. Nonna Constanza, ancient even when I was a kid, scoffed and prescribed her own old world remedy. She sat me in her lap, cooing to me with her singsong voice and held a tiny shot glass up to my lips coaxing, “Tu bevi, Gia bambina. Tu Bevi.”

Drink, Gia baby. Drink.

She tilted the glass back into my mouth and I did. I drank every drop.

I don’t remember much after. Daddy told me later I slipped into a mini-coma for about sixty-two hours, bombed out of my head from the anisette nonna had dosed me with.

But this is what I do remember. The amber colored liquor slipped down the inside of my mouth to the back of my throat and onward into my belly, tasting of melted marshmallows and warming each place it touched like a million little hits of heat popping everywhere inside me. When it reached my tummy it settled and dug in, filling my senses with the sweet flavor of mama’s Sunday morning caramel rolls and sugar.

That’s what his voice sounded like: warm and sweet, thick, delicious, and soothing.

My entire body relaxed when I heard it. My paralysis flew and my frozen-in-place digits melted.

He’d held my stare the entire time, never wavering, never becoming distracted by something else. He looked straight at me; just me. Like a missile dead-eye-aimed for a target.

“Here,” he said, moving in closer, so close I could make out the actual color of his eyes now. I’d thought they were dark and from far away and they were. But seeing them now, face-to-face, I spotted little flecks of yellow and slivery shards of gold mixed into the center and surrounded by a ring of deep, rich, mink.

If his voice was warm and soothing, his eyes were hot enough to singe, and mama mia, I wanted to be burned.

Intrigued? Hee hee. I am and I wrote it!!! Buy links are above if you are.

Enjoy the rest of your Sunday.

Until next time ~Peg

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A #99cent #ebooksale, a kiss, and Christmas – what could be better?

So my first San Valentino Christmas book is on sale now for 99cents! A KISS UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS tells the story of Gia San Valentino and her quest for a life of her own.

Can a kiss under the Christmas lights lead to a forever love?

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?

Available at Amazon // Nook // ibooks for just 99 cents!

Get a copy for the romance lover on your Holiday gift list this year!

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Just when I think it’s over…..

I don’t usually post full face pictures of myself on this page for a number of reasons, but the biggest one being I hate full face pictures of myself!!!

Cindy Crawford I am not.

I’m not even Helen Mirren and she’s in the same age group as me.

But when I received this award over the weekend, I also received a letter from FCRW that asked the winners to take a picture with the award and their winning book to post on the FCRW Facebook and Twitter pages. Since it was going to be so publicly displayed anyway, I figured, why not blog about it, too,  and post the picture.

So…

I am still rehabbing from my surgery, so you can see a tiny speck of the immobilizer covering my right hand as I hold the beautiful award. Yes, I’m in my nightgown, there’s nothing on my face except Retin A, I’m wearing my daytime glasses and my hair isn’t combed because I can’t do that yet ( due to dominant arm surgery!) But it would have taken too much time, effort, and energy – none of which I have, to look camera ready.

But..all that aside, this award truly touched my heart.

The past two months have been filled with self doubt, feelings of inadequacy, and  frustration over my writing career. After being dropped by two publishers and receiving some horrible reviews for my books, in addition to still not seeing my sales and readers increase, I’ve been struggling with the concept that writing for publication is something I’m not cut out for. There’s so much more involved than just writing stories of my heart. The time and cash spent on marketing, the query letters, the waiting to hear back, the time delays between book publications – it’s all starting to take a toll on my psyche.

The endless questions: have I peaked out? Is this all worth the time and expense? What am I killing myself for?

Dramatic? Yeah, maybe, but hey: this is me we’re talking about. Drama in my confirmation name.

And then this happens.

I think sometimes the universe, and/or God knows just what to do to make me realize my decisions and my life are worthwhile.

So…no more moping, overthinking, doubting, bitching or complaining.

Now if I could just brush my hair…..

Oh, and because the marketing aspect NEVER ends, here’s the book that won the award, available in ecopy, print and audio.

CHRISTMAS AND CANNOLIS

Amazon ///B&N // AppleBooks //GooglePlay// Kobo // AmazonUK

 

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?

Until next time ~ Peg

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Filed under Author, author promotion, Contemporary Romance, Cooking, Family Saga, Food lover, Foodie, Life challenges, love, Romance, Romance Books, Strong Women, WIld Rose Press AUthor

Still touring….and visiting.

I’ve got 2 stops today on this last week of my Goddess Fish blog tour for CHRISTMAS & CANNOLIS.

Come join me over on Locks, Hooks, and Books where the author reviewed the book. ( Hint – she liked it!)

And then over on Sharking Links and Wisdom, where I explain my love of big families.

In another note, I’m over on WRP sistah Vicki Batman’s blog today as well promoting another of my books, DEARLY BELOVED. Vicki’s blog is for the purse-lover in every gal and you’ll want to see the little clutch she features from me!

As always, if you’re looking for me, you can find me right here:

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

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

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#SundaySnippet 12.16.18

Since I’m currently on a blog tour for this book through Goddess Fish, it makes sense today’s little sumthin’ sumthin’ should come from Christmas and Cannolis, no?

Not everyone in the book is Italian/American. Connor’s uncle, Aiden Gilhooly, a son of Ireland, fills this scene with charm and an impish banter that is so delightful to the ears ( at least I think its! Hee Hee) that I can hear him speak every time I read his dialogue. Hope you can, too.

Our server returned with our food, cutting off what Connor was about to say. At the same time a tall, broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, well- dressed man of an age similar to my father’s sauntered over to our table. Connor slid out of the booth and was enveloped in behemoth arms and smacked on the back like a prodigal.

“It’s been too long, boyo,” the giant said. “Too long. You’re looking well. Busy?”

“Ridiculously.”

“Aye, that’s good then. Keep ya off the streets and outta trouble. And who’s this vision, now?” He stared down at our table, and I did a quick side glance to figure out who he was referring to. Vision is a word no one would apply to me. Ever.

“Regina San Valentino. She owns her own bakery and makes the most amazing things you will ever taste in your life.”

“Is that so? Well, it’s nice to meet you, young lady.” He reached a hand across the table, and mine completely disappeared in it. “Aiden Gilhooly, this young hooligan’s favorite uncle, is me name.”

“You’re my only uncle,” Connor said, shaking his head.

“And happy you should be about it, boyo.”

“Like I have a choice?”
It was impossible not to smile at the loving, playful banter between them. Aiden Gilhooly looked and sounded nothing like Connor. If he hadn’t told me they were related, I would never have guessed it. Both were tall, yes, but that’s where the similarity began and ended. Connor’s complexion was olive and swarthy, while his uncle’s was vampire pasty, as if he shunned sunlight at all costs. A mop of mostly white hair tinged with faded patches of pale red sat on a head as round as a pumpkin. Eyes so blue they were almost transparent peeked out from under wooly white eyebrows while fat freckles danced across his nose and chubby cheeks.

If I’d thought Connor’s heritage was anything other than full-blown Irish before now, meeting this uncle who had Ireland stamped across his features surely would have put an end to that thought.

“This is my place,” Aiden said, a cheek-wide smile beaming at me. “And welcome you are, Miss San Valentino.”

“Reggie,” I said, smiling back at him. “All my friends call me Reggie.”

“And it’s delighted I am to be thought one.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. Charm was stacked into this family’s genes by the fistful.
“Now, boyo, sit yourself back down and eat before it gets cold.” He motioned for a waiter and held up an index finger. When Connor was seated back next to me, Aiden pulled a chair from a nearby table and sat with us.

“I’ve been meaning to call,” Aiden said, “about that reservation app you set up for the place.”

“Trouble?”

“Not at all. In fact, quite the opposite. Revenue’s been up twelve percent since it went live. I’ve been meaning to call to thank ya for forcing me old keister into the twenty-first century.”

Connor’s gorgeous face split into the most devilish grin, and a shock of pure lust whipped through me making the space at the top of my thighs tingle. How was it possible that just moments before I’d been feeling depressed and miserable, but one look at this man’s mirthful face and those feelings dissipated, to be replaced by sensations I hadn’t felt in forever?

Madonna.

I was glad I was sitting, my nether regions under the table. I was sure they were visibly quivering and shaking.

“It only took me, what?” Connor cocked his head as he laughed at his uncle. “Ten years of asking?”

“Pesterin’ and harassing me nonstop, is more the truth.”

“Well, I’m glad it worked.”

“Aye. Me, too, boyo.”

I simply adore Aiden. And Connor, Hell, everyone in the book is near and dear to my heart! Now for a little extra. Have you ever wondered what the author of a story intended you to hear when she wrote a scene? I have, so I’m giving you an example of how the voices in my head ( why does that sound so wrong to say?? Hee hee) sound when they speak to me.  Click on the following link and you’ll get to my You Tube page where I narrated a bit from the book. Regina’s Independence Scene.

and if you’re ever looking for me, I’m here:Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

And one more little extra for you: Christmas and Cannolis trailer: 

 

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