In just 7 more days, book 3 in the Heaven’s Matchmaker series, PERFECT MATCH, releases into the romance reading world and I can not wait.
I’m interested to see what you all think of Olivia and Hunter’s story. They were both a joy to write, Hunter especially. There’s just something so heartwarming and wonderful about a man who’s devoted himself to caring for the elderly population. He is compassionate, kind, smart, and empathetic – everything you’d want in a physician no matter what the age of the patient!
When I was working as a nurse I met many doctors who were candidates for asshole of the year. Luckily, I met an equal number who were devoted clinicians who believed in the practice of medicine and the healing arts. Those are the characteristics I gave to Hunter Reinhart, my male main character in Perfect Match.
Divorced, he still believes in the institution of marriage and wants to find his forever partner and love. He’s hired Olivia Joyner to help him find that person. Little did he know, his soulmate was as close as she was.
Have you preordered your copy? You can do so, here on ‘Zon. PM
Or, if you want a signed print copy, you can order it directly from me and I’ve got copies available right now – so you’d have it before it actually releases, lol! PM
Today is the last day you can enter my Goodreads Giveaway for a chance at an ecopy of Perfect Match, which will be released on 4.7.25. I’m giving away 100 Kindle copies to 100 lucky winners – the Goodreads Gods choose the winners. I have found that doing a giveaway like this for past books has garnered me a vast amount of new-to-me-writers, so the cost has been worth it.
Today’s tease for the book is the first time Olivia and Hunter kiss. It’s an awkward kiss, neither of them thinking it was going to be on the lips – much less as mindblowing as it was for both of them…
“I need to go back,” he said, returning.
“Problem?”
“My Arms patient has taken a turn and the staff is worried.” He tucked his phone back into the holder on his belt, and slipped the pager into his pocket.
“Well, I’m glad you at least had something to eat.” She followed behind him to the front door as he slid his suit jacket back on. “Especially if you’re going to be at the hospital for a while.”
As he shot the cuffs he peered down at her, his brows kissing as his mouth quirked. Once done, he buttoned the jacket and exhaled. “Olivia.”
Nervously, her lips twitched. “Hunter,” she said in the same serious tone he’d just used. “One of these days we’re going to have a discussion about why you don’t call me Liv like everyone else does. Olivia is so formal and stuffy.”
“It’s not formal or stuffy at all. It’s beautiful, just like you are and it suits you.”
Her nose squinched and wriggled. “Makes me sound like a maiden aunt with fifteen cats.”
He shook his head and then bent down to kiss her cheek. For some reason, though – and she was seriously going to have to think about why once he was gone – Liv turned into the kiss and his mouth landed on hers.
Shock paralyzed her. She knew she should back away or at least turn her head again, but simply…couldn’t.
Truth? Didn’t want to.
His mouth, Lord, his mouth!
How was it possible for such a masculine man, a man with a body that hinted at strength and solidity, to have the softest lips she’d ever felt?
Soft and silky and…succulent. Like ripe peaches, juicy and just begging to be…eaten?
It was as if she hadn’t just had dinner – hadn’t had anything to eat in days. Like a woman starved of sustenance, Liv simply devoured him.
Before she could understand what was happening, her hands lifted to his cheeks, cupping them, the subtle scratch of his evening scruff prickling against her fingers and driving her…insane.
Insane with a need she couldn’t have guessed she’d possessed.
Her own shock was nothing compared to the swift hiss she heard him expel right before he shifted, drawing her closer as he wound his arms around her waist. With her next breath, she was plastered against him, every long line of his body pressed against her. Had he pulled her to him, or had she simply cleaved?
She wasn’t sure, but the descriptions she’d had of him being strong and solid were proven truthful. She could add one more word to the list as her body molded to his, liquifying into every ridge and muscle and valley of his form: hard.
All over.
His tongue swiped at her mouth, insistently; firmly; commanding she open for him.
It was never a thought or consideration not to.
Liv’s lips parted and she inhaled him as if his very breath gave her life.
As he deepened the kiss, Liv’s head dropped back giving him full access. To her mouth…her body…her very soul.
Her career, her business, her reputation be damned. All that mattered was right here, right now, with this man.
She slid her fingers through the opening of his jacket to glide up and down his back, every curve of muscle she skimmed over harder than the one before it.
The man was a mountain of defined sinew under his clothing, begging the image of what he must look like without it to surface in her mind. A tiny gasp escaped her when his hands slid down to the dip in her spine, his fingers spreading the expanse of the space, flirting with the top of her ass.
Her blood zipped through her veins, heating her in places she hadn’t felt warmth in quite some time.
Too long.
The shriek of his pager abruptly screeched around them, shocking them apart. Liv had no idea what she looked like, but Hunter’s face told a story she thought might mimic hers. Confusion creased his brow while desire still danced in his eyes. His mouth was a swollen mass of perfection, his lips wet and plump, his face flushed from chin to temple in a rosy glow of lust.
Without a word, their gazes locked, he reached down to his belt and pulled the annoying device from its holder.
A quick eye flick at it then he said, “I have to…go…” his voice jagged and, to her ears, thick with emotion.
Nodding, she wrapped her arms around her chest and moved around him to open the door.
“Olivia—”
“You’d better go, Hunter,” she said, shocking herself at the calmness in her voice, when her insides were swirling like wind galloping down Tornado Alley. “Don’t keep them waiting.”
He winced, his eyes almost closing.
Don’t forget to enter the contest. And if you’re not on GoodReads, or just want to get the book on your own, the pre-order is available now on Amazon at the link above. It’ll go into KU for 90 days, then go wide.
I’ll be teasing the cover reveal for my newest Dicken’s book in July,but for now, here’s a little something about my 2024 Dickens book, A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS. In this scene, Portia and Tony go Christmas Tree shopping for the diner’s tree. He has no idea it’s a ruse Portia is using to get him out and about…
“I knew this tree would look perfect on this table,” Portia said two hours later while she affixed the last ornament.
Tony lifted his head from his position at the stove, stared across the room at her, then shook his head.
Three times.
Three times now she’d all but bamboozled him into doing something he thought he’d never do or sworn not to.
By the time they arrived at the office to give the clerk the tag for the diner tree, he’d forgotten all about her prompt that he get his own holiday tree, instead, his thoughts turned to food. He’d been playing with the idea of deconstructing an alfredo sauce and using it on poached eggs. Maybe he could take a few hours tonight and whip up a few samples. The idea had come to him earlier in the week when a customer had praised the new tangy Alfredo he’d been using in the diner. Amy had relayed the customer’s compliment and he’d begun thinking of alternate ways to use the sauce.
While Portia had paid, he’d gone to bring the car around from the packed lot. When she emerged from the office ten minutes later, she had a wrapped bundle in her arms and was wearing a smile that more than hinted at a Cheshire cat vibe.
“What’s that?” he thrust his chin toward the bundle when she got in the car.
She turned to him and with her eyes wide, chin dropped a hair so she could zero in on him, she said, “A freshly cut tabletop tree. It’s barely thirty-six inches.”
Glaring at her, his own eyes narrowing, he said, “For Abra?”
“Nope.”
She popped the P with a flare.
“Portia.” She’d have to have a hearing loss to mistake the warning in his voice.
“Anton,” she said back, using the same tone.
“Don’t call me that.” For some reason, he rolled his head right and left.
“We’re in your car, silly. No one can hear us. And before you have a conniption,” she held up one hand, effectively silencing him, “It’s a gift.”
“A gift?”
She nodded and said, “There you go repeating everything again, but yes. It’s a thank you for helping me today.”
“I didn’t help you at all,” he countered. “When you called me and then we wound up at the tree farm, I thought it meant you needed help with cutting one down.”
“Initially, that was my thought. But it seemed easier, once we got here, to have the farm hands to it. They’ll do a great job and deliver it, too. But you came with me, gave up your one free afternoon, and because of that I wanted to say thank you, and getting you this tree is my way of doing it.”
He could argue, but he’d look like a real loser if he refused the offer of the gift.
But… “I don’t have anything to decorate it with and like I said, I’m not investing in a bunch of things that I won’t be taking with me when I leave.”
“No worries.” She pulled out her phone and gave him the directions to the town’s secondhand store, Curious Curios.
“And we’re going there, why?” he asked, pulling onto the county road.
“Because they have a package waiting for me that I need to pick up. They don’t deliver. And before you say a package, in that deep, smokey, sexy voice,” he clamped his mouth shut because he’d been about to do just that, “Yes, a package. It’s filled with used ornaments and tree trimmings the owner picked out for me.”
“When?” was all he could think to ask.
“What?”
“Not what. When?”
“When, what?”
The force and breadth of the sigh he expelled fogged up the front windshield. “I feel like I’m in a bad Yogi Berra movie and it’s déjà vu all over again.” Another exhale, this one followed by a cleansing inhale meant to calm him. “When did you arrange for a box of ornaments to be filled for you?”
For the first time in all their interactions, awkwardness descended upon her face and body. Shoulders slumped under her coat; mouth pinched in one corner as if lost in thought; brows flirting with one another, a delicate crease bifurcating them; even her color heightened a bit as her cheeks pinked.
“Portia?”
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again. “I spoke with her on the phone this morning. Told her what I needed and then trusted her to get everything ready for pick up.”
He digested that for the time it took to wait for the traffic light they were stopped at to turn back to green. As he pushed down on the gas pedal he said, “You planned this whole thing, didn’t you? This outing to the tree farm. Me going with you. Getting me that tree. Heck, you were probably even the one who convinced Amy to get a real tree for the diner.” He tossed her a quick glance before concentrating back on the road. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
She stayed silent for an entire block. Then, slowly, she began to nod, until a weak, “Yes,” escaped from between her lips.
“Why? Why did you go to all that trouble? Just for me to have a…holiday tree?” He shook his head. “That makes no sense.”
She turned to him then, and from the corner of his eye he could tell she was nervous.
About what? Him figuring out what she’d done? Her doing it? This was all just crazy.
You’ll have to read the book to find out why she’s so invested in getting him out of the house…
I am currently editing the final galley copy of the above book for Wild Rose Press. It’s the first in a three book series called A PRIDE OF BROTHERS. For those of you who read my WILL COOK FOR LOVE SERIES, this is the story of Abigail Laine and Rick Bannerman. These two are both alphas and boy do they annoy each other. And by annoy I mean – YOWZA!
As soon as I have a release date and a cover, you’ll see it. Promise!
Until then, only 6 more sleeps until IT’S A TRUST THING releases exclusively in Kindle and KU. Have you reordered your copy yet???
Nell Newbery has trust issues. It’s hard to trust when you’re the daughter of a fallen financial scion who bilked people out of billions. Nell’s done everything in her power to keep away from men who see her as their ticket to fortune and fame. All she wants to do is run her ultra-successful business, HELPFUL HUNKS, in peace. But it wouldn’t hurt to find a guy who doesn’t know a thing about her father’s felonious past; one she can give her heart to and trust it won’t come back to her battered, bruised, and broken. Is Charlie Churchill that guy? On the surface he seems perfect, all polished manners and quiet mirth. Nell’s convinced he knows nothing about her, other than she likes superhero movies and views junk food as a food group. Can she trust him to be what he appears to be? Or is he just pretending? For Nell, trust is everything in life…and in love.
I just 1 week LOVE MATCH releases into the book reading world and I am stoked and excited!!
SO, of course, today’s teaser is a little snippet from the book.And a familiar face pops up here.
“Hey, kids. Happy Happy,” Kick Loomis said, leaning over the bar so he could be heard. Befitting the occasion, he was wearing a black t-shirt with colored suspenders over it emblazed with Happy New Year and the year running up them. “What are ya drinking? I’ve got a few specials going tonight.”
Surprise shot through him when Layla ordered the champagne cocktail to his beer.
“What?” she asked when she smacked her lips and groaned after the first sip and found him staring at her mouth. “I love champagne and this is good.”
Kick overheard her, grinned, and gave her a thumbs-up before making his way down the bar.
Meet my cast of characters from RETRIBUTION. This is how I pictured them when I was writing the book…
6 teenage girls have been kidnapped, brutalized, and murdered in the Washington DC area and the FBI’s SPCD Unit – the Sexual Predators of Children Profilers – are nowhere close to finding the monster responsible. How are the victims chosen? How does the killer find them, contact them, lure them into his sick web? Questions the team has no answers for.
When a high-ranking US Senator’s daughter is the next victim, SPCD team leader, Tucker Petrie, is forced to call upon retired profiler — and his last partner — Kella O’Brien for help. Kella’s been out of the game for 10 years, but her expertise and insights into a serial killer’s mind are unparalleled. If anyone can discover who this madman is, it’s Kella.
But as the team rushes to prevent another young girl’s death, clues the killer leaves behind have Kella wondering if his endgame is all about…her.
I am so excited to finally be able to reveal that I have joined in with a fabulous cast of writers to benefit a more-than-worthy cause! And today is the cover reveal for the anthology.
Ta-da….
Wednesday, Coffee, & Books presents: Love, Lattes, & Holiday Tales a collection of brand-new unique short stories for the festive season. Snuggle up with some sweet and spicy romance from multi-genre authors, including New York Times and USA Today Bestselling.
These amazing multi-genre holiday stories featuring Hounds & Grounds and a loving pet will leave you believing in love and a happily ever after.
All the proceeds go toward 4 Paws for Ability, a non-for-profit organization matching service dogs with Veterans.
Featuring authors: CJ Warrant & Rochelle Bradley CJ Barlowe Rochelle K Bradley Sharon Hamilton NYT & USAT Bestselling
Phoebe Alexander USAT Bestselling Monica DiSmone USAT Bestselling Marie Hall USAT Bestselling
LC Taylor USAT Bestselling Miranda Lynn USAT Bestselling Faith Alexander C.J. Baty Sutton Bishop Cynthia Carver C. J. Corbin Aliya DalRae Hope Daniels Anna Hague Miski Harris Sara Hurst Juliette Hyland Peggy Jaeger ( THAT’S ME!!) Margaret Kay Tessa McFionn Sharon Michalove Charli Rahe AJ Renee Tori Ross Aurelia Yates
My little story is called MY PUPPY MATCHMAKER. Here’s the cover:
Dog Trainer Celia Mills has better relationships with dogs than men. She’s got a track record of dating self-centered, narcissistic, alphaholes and her therapist thinks it’s because she’s got a fix’em complex. Celia’s methods for changing behavior works with errant dogs, so why shouldn’t it with men?
Is it any wonder she’s still single?
When new client Ben Masters hires her to train his aunt’s dog, Celia’s lust-ometer goes into hyperdrive. But there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with him that needs fixing.
Could that be a sign she’s finally found her for-a-lifetime guy?
Because RETRIBUTIONreleases in just 14 days, I figured today would be appropriate for another little snippet from the book.
Brainstorming is the best way for the SPCD team to come to a meeting of the minds about who the killer might be. Here’s a quick little scene after they find the most recent dead girl.
“The cause of death in all the victims, including Brittany Chasen, was massive blood loss from surgical trauma, namely the removal of the girls’ reproductive organs. From the preliminary drug result data, no systemic anesthetics were used, and I couldn’t locate any topical applications either.”
Anna inhaled sharply.
“This sick creep opened these girls without providing any kind of pain relief. I can only hope they were unconscious, or already half dead when he did it.”
“Any physical findings?” Tucker asked.
“There was substantial muscle decay, indicating they were starved for the length of their captivity. You know about the ritual cutting of the arms and legs. Nothing that was deep enough to kill, but some of the open wounds were topically infected. Each girl had evidence of sodomy, vaginal rape, and swollen pharynx indicative of oral rape. Microscopic investigations showed no fibers, no DNA, no blood, nothing. Their bodies were scrubbed clean inside and out with bleach, probably postmortem, before they were dumped.”
Tucker nodded. “Anna?”
Referring to the device at her fingertips, she said, “Interviews with the parents of each victim have proved fruitless so far. All were somewhere other than they were supposed to be when they disappeared. Brittany was thought to be at soccer practice and instead was seen at a music store. Emily Johannson was due at school play practice but was last seen going into a CVS. Margaret Pearl had a piano lesson she skipped and went to a local mall instead. Erin Heuser missed a guitar lesson to go to a Quick-Mart. Paula Killarney dodged basketball practice for a coffee shop. And Magdala Profinsky was due to babysit for her cousin and wasn’t seen anywhere after her last class of the day. There’s no common link between them. All six attended different schools, lived in very different neighborhoods and came from widespread financial and social backgrounds. They didn’t know each other and there are no friends that link them. They were, for all intents and purposes, total strangers.”
“What’s the common thread?” Tucker asked, removing his glasses and cleaning them with a handkerchief.
“Physically, they resembled one another in basic makeup,” she said. “Each was approximately five feet three to five feet five inches tall. Each was a blonde with shoulder-length or longer hair, blue eyes, and trim physiques. White. None of them weighed more than a hundred and ten pounds. Two were vegans. Four played a sport, and two played instruments. Nothing stands out.”
Today’s five are a few more things about RETRIBUTION that I hope enthrall you and make you want to read it. These are all little pieces of info about and concerning the book,
this was the first full-length book I’d ever written. I penned it 20 years ago, stuck it on a file on my desktop and then forgot about it. When VELLA became a thing I published it to that venue and had a great deal of positivity come back to me, so I decided to update it and publish it for real.
I was serial killer obsessed back in the day. I’m that girl NETFLIX documentaries about them was invented, (LOL) and still am, to this day.
there is no real-life team called the SPCD ( Sexual Predators of Children DIvision) at the FBI, but there should be. I know there are a few dedicated to child trafficking and plain ol’ serial killers, tho.
shouting a gun ambidextrously ( as Kella and Anna can) is more common than you’d think.
The psychology of studying the serial killer mind is relatively recent in history, starting in the past 1880’s. With the advancement of criminalists and forensics, it has become much easier to target a serial killer’s crimes, if not the actual killer.
Peggy Jaeger, Author 