Since the pandemic I have shunned in-person shopping as much as I can, opting for home delivery when it’s available – or other online ways to get what I need.
This holiday season is no exception for me. The thought of being crammed into a mall with coughing kids and grumpy shoppers is not my idea of undiluted pleasure.
If you’re like me ( yay!), have a romance book reader on your Holiday list – or even if it’s you, and want to get them something special, take advantage of my 2022 Holiday book store this year. All the books listed are in print, $11.00 a piece – a sizable discount even from the ‘Zon, and shipping/handling is cheaper than the post office.
Why am I doing this? Simple – I want to make it easy for people to get my books without spending the horrible markups you see in retailers and online distributors. With the economy still in recovery mode, this is the very least I can offer to my readers.
The character of Amy Dorrit (Charles) is fascinating for so many reasons, but the main one for me is how she loves her 3 adoptive kids and how strongly she protects them. She also doesn’t suffer fools and calls it like she sees it, evident in this scene. She’s found a distraught Sasha crying in her apartment and after listening to the reason why, she…well, she acts like a mom who lays it on the line.
Enjoy.
After several minutes of Amy rocking and cooing to her, Sasha shifted, her tears finally starting to abate.
“I won’t ask if you feel better,” Amy said as she cupped her daughter’s chin and rubbed her thumbs across her cheeks. “A cry like that one serves the purpose of emotionally cleansing and physically exhausting a body.”
“I think I’m more exhausted than cleansed,” Sasha said, swiping her sleeve under her nose. “And now I’ve got a headache to add to it, to boot.”
With a shake of her head, Amy leaned forward and kissed Sasha’s forehead.
“Why are you home so early? I thought you were going to take the entire day to shop.”
“Took most of it.” Amy lifted a shoulder and added, “When we were done, we were done.”
“Most of the day? What time is it?” Sasha asked.
“Half-past three.”
“Oh, God. I told everyone I was only taking a few minutes and it’s been three hours. I need to get downstairs.” She tried to stand but Amy held her back.
“The diner’s fine, baby girl. The girls and Chet have been taking care of things just fine. You sit back down and tell me what got you to blubbering.”
“I need a glass of water, first.” Once Amy let her stand, Sasha filled a glass and downed it in one long draught. After that she ran cold water over her face, knowing she must look like a swollen, red-splotched mess.
Done, she plopped down next to her mother, dragged in several deep, weary breaths, and told her all about her relationship with Steve Caldwell, ending with the conversation she’d had with Kane.
“I should have trusted my instincts,” she said once she was done, the tears spent, and her voice tired. “They told me from the get-go he was only interested in me because he wanted me for the hospital.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” Amy said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you every time he comes into the diner. The man is smitten.”
Sasha rubbed her nose, then shook her head. “If he’s smitten it’s with my skills as a nurse, not as,” she blushed, “a woman or anything else.”
“I don’t like repeating myself, but I’m really not sure that’s true, baby girl.”
On the end of a sigh sewn together with exhaustion and a strangled ache, Sasha said, “It’s true enough, mom. He didn’t deny it when I confronted him.”
“Did you give him a chance to? Or did you steamroll right over him like you always do when you want to make a point?
Surprised, Sasha said, “I don’t do that.”
Amy’s brows took a steady climb toward her hairline. When they arrived and settled, her eyes opened wide and she regarded her daughter with an expression Sasha had seen dozens of times during her childhood. A don’t even think about bullshitting me glower that made the person – or child – being glared at confess any and all infractions they’d committed
That the look could still make her crumble at the age of thirty-four like an unbalanced house of cards was worrisome.
And annoying.
“I don’t.”
“Really? I can give you chapter, book, and verse on any number of times you’ve done it in your life. You’ve always been like that, baby girl. Always need to have the last word in an argument; always need to get your point across before anyone else can make theirs.”
Amy’s words stung. So much so, tears started to swell in Sasha’s eyes again. Angrily, she batted them away with her lashes.
Her mother’s expression softened. “Look, sweetie. I’m not saying it to make you upset, just to point out that you have a…tendency we’ll say, not to listen to the other person during an argument when you think you’re in the right.”
“I am in the right about this, mom. Steve was just buttering me up before asking me to work for the hospital. Kane all but proved it.”
Amy’s thin-lipped glare told her daughter exactly what she thought about Kane Barclay and his declaration.
“I know you’ve never liked him,” Sasha said. Before she could continue, though, her mother cut her off.
“I don’t dislike him,” she said. “But he has a habit of embellishing any story he’s telling to garner more attention for himself. He was always that way as a kid and hasn’t changed much as an adult.”
Sasha waved a hand in the air with a careless flitter. “History aside, this time he didn’t embellish, just told me straight out what he’d overheard.”
“You should know better than to believe any info given to you second-hand like that, Sasha Charles.”
A sudden stab of unease speared through her. Was her mother right? Should she have regarded Kane’s declaration warily?
Intrigued? I hope so, LOL
You can preorder the book here and have it delivered to your Kindle on 11.7.2022 on release day. Or, the paperback version is available right now!
Chance Miller, divorce lawyer extraordinaire, knows the whole happily ever after dream is an urban myth. He deals with miserable and wedded warring couples every day and swears staying single keeps him sane and happy. His friends and family consider him the last single man standing and fear he’ll never find someone and settle down. But Chance relishes his carefree status and unencumbered lifestyle and has no plans to change anything.
If only his relatives would stop trying to set him up with their version of the perfect woman.
Fredrika Poole already experienced her one great love, and the widow can’t read any future romance in her tea leaves. She’s content to bake, run her business, and care for her daughter.
When Chance meets Freddie and discovers her marriage thoughts run on the same road his do, he realizes she’s the answer to his prayer for keeping the relatives at bay. But the pixie barista has a way of making Chance question everything he’s always thought about love, marriage, and wedded bliss.
Will his last man standing status go unchallenged? Or will Freddie be the one woman he wants…but can never have?
Enjoy….
Even though she wasn’t nervous, the sensation of Chance’s fingers resting on her back offered a strange sense of calm and comfort.
The moment they entered the ballroom the sound level, which she’d felt knocking against her chest from the intensity, slipped to a decided hush as all eyes turned toward them.
A tiny knife strike of fear slipped in and pierced her quiet mien.
Chance’s fingers pressed against her back. “Breathe,” he murmured. “The way to handle them is to never let them see you sweat.”
She grinned at his word choice. Jimmy had said the same thing to her the first time she’d met his friends at the firehouse. Her usual state of calm bolted back.
A striking woman in a blue floor length dress and who had six inches and about forty years on her, crossed the length of the room, a man in a tuxedo clutching her hand and tagging along with her.
“Well, as usual you’re late,” the woman said, a huge, pleased smile on her face as she offered her cheek to Chance for a kiss.
He did so, saying, “You look lovely, Aunt Betty. Uncle Louis.” He nodded at the man at her side.
His aunt’s gaze shot to Freddie. If she had to put a word to the expression dancing across the older woman’s face it would be expectant.
“Allow me to introduce Fredrika Poole,” Chance said. A millisecond later he added, “My girlfriend.”
Hearing him say it aloud shouldn’t have sent a delighted shiver up her spine, but it did. Before she could contemplate on why, the woman in front of them let out a screech of delight.
“Well, isn’t this the best surprise!” She let go of her husband’s hand and pulled both of Freddie’s into hers, cocooning them.
“Happy Anniversary,” Freddie said with a smile.
“Thank you. Over fifty years with this man and every one has been better than the last.” The man at her side grinned then kissed her cheek. “But enough about us,” she said turning her full attention back to her. “Tell me, how did you two meet? Was it at work? How long have you been dating? What do you do? Are you a lawyer, too?”
Freddie blinked a few times, unsure of which question to answer first and afraid more were going to be thrown her way before she could give a reply to even one.
“Down, girl,” Chance said as he slid her hands from his aunt’s grip. “You have all night to grill her. We just got here and I’d like to make the rounds, say hello to everyone and introduce her around. Okay?”
His aunt tossed him a peeved pout, then shook her head and grinned. “Always have to be in control,” she said, clucking her tongue. To Freddie she said, “You probably already know that about him, though, don’t you dear? The original Mr. In Charge, that’s our Chancey-boy.”
Freddie hid the grin she wanted to let loose from the look on Chance’s face. Part embarrassed, part annoyed, and one hundred percent adorably miffed male grimaced next to her.
“Go on, then,” Betty said. “Go show your girl off. But don’t forget your favorite aunt. I want to hear all the deets, as my grandkids say, later on. I’m not letting you leave this party without knowing everything about you,” she said to Freddie.
“Yes ma’am,” Freddie replied.
“Terrified yet?” Chance whispered as he took her arm and propelled her toward a group of people close to their own age.
She tried not to think about how natural his hand felt against her skin as she said, “It takes a whole lot more than an aunt who shows her love by being nosy to scare me, Chancey-boy,” she said, trying to keep the grin from her face.
When he squeezed her arm and said, “I’ll pay you back for calling me that by introducing you to Aunt Theresa next. The FBI and CIA have her on speed dial because of her interrogation techniques.”
“Bring it.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Hey, everyone. This is Freddie.”
The impossibly boorish introduction made her gape at him and then laugh out loud. She needn’t have worried about it, though, because he was immediately chastised by every female in the group.
Names were thrown at her from every direction, accompanied by warm and enthusiastic handshakes and smiles. Freddie glanced over at her date to see him engrossed in serious conversation with one of the most beautiful women she’d ever set eyes on. Long, shiny, deep auburn colored hair flowed freely about a perfectly heart-shaped face framed by robins-egg blue eyes and an upturned, pixie nose and jaw.
Without being told, she knew this was Chance’s sister, Sable. The curve of their jaws and the cut of their cheeks hinted at it, but when Sable pursed her perfect lips in a pout of confusion, she saw Chance’s face stare back at her.
The younger woman glanced over at her, her delicate eyebrows lifting at something her brother was saying.
Questions flew at her left and right. Chance hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her she’d be the topic of interest tonight simply because she’d come with him.
“You’re certainly an improvement over the last girl he brought around,” Moira – she thought that was the name – said. “You actually make eye contact and smile,” she added.
“And you look like you have a brain,” said another. Kitty, maybe?
“Thanks,” she said, adding a crooked smile. “I think.”
“How long have the two of you been going out?” This one she couldn’t put a name to.
“Not long,” she replied, purposefully being vague.
“Where’d ya meet?” Moira again.
“I own the coffee station in the building Chance works in. We met by accident when he was on the receiving end of a thrown coffee cup.”
Eyebrows lifted and mouths pulled into delighted grins as she explained his client’s ex and her tirade.
“I would have paid cash money to see that,” the one whose name she couldn’t remember said.
“All of us would have. So,” Kitty said, “you came to his rescue and what? He asked you out?”
“Something like that.” She smiled when she saw him leave his sister and stride back toward their group.
“Okay, kids, that’s enough,” Chance said as he slipped a hand around her arm. “I want a drink and something to eat and I’m sure Freddie does, too. You can continue the grilling later.”
“We weren’t grilling her, Chancy-boy.” This from Kitty.
As he turned, Moira sniggered. “Should I have the waiters serve coffee now, or wait until later?”
Chance stumbled a bit while moving her away from the group, but didn’t respond to his cousin.
Gently, he tugged her toward the buffet table. “You told them?”
“They asked how we met. I wasn’t going to lie.”
His theatrical sigh pulled a grin from her.
“You can bet by the end of the night everyone in this room will know the story. My family is like a bad game of telephone.”
Love reading romance? You’ve come to the right place! Here you’ll find romance of all steam levels and genres. So take your time, have a little fun here on our event page, and please visit our official book fair page and enter to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card
My steamy romance, BALANCE, part of the NYC Socialites Series, is one of the books listed. Check it out, here: OKRWG BOOK FAIR under the STEAMY category!
She’s a wealthy socialite who survived an abusive marriage. He’s a hardworking guy raising his son and caring for his widowed father. They come from different worlds, but it’s said…opposites attract. Can they find the balance between their two lifestyles to make their love work? Or will their differences tear them apart?
Life and love are a balancing act.
BALANCE is also a 2022 Nominee in the InD’Tale Magazine RONE AWARDS. The award ceremony if set for Saturday, 10.9 at 8pm EST!
The 31st of every August is National Matchmaker day – who knew? Well, I did, for one, LOL.
Have you ever read a matchmaker-trope romance? Today would be a good day to start and as luck would have it, I have one for you: MIX AND MATCH ( Heaven’s Matchmaker) is out in the world and under wide distribution now, not only at Amazon. Here’s the universal link for other book distributors: M&M
Divorced and lonely, nurse Jasmine Green retains the services of Heaven, NH’s very own successful matchmaker, Olivia Joyner. The bar scene and dating apps give Jasmine hives and Liv’s reputation is stellar. If anyone can help guide her through the quagmire that dating has become, Olivia can.
Architect Donovan Boyd is ready to settle down. He wants the kind of marriage his parents have; long-lasting, filled with love, children, and joy. But even after a year of living and working in Heaven, he’s still considered an outsider by many. Finding the type of woman he’s looking for is hard in the tight-knit community. Retaining Olivia Joyner to help him find his forever love is one of the smartest things he’s done, especially after she sets him up with Jasmine Green.
But the red-haired, green-eyed beauty wants a different kind of marriage from the one Donovan considers ideal.
Can these two strong-willed people learn to compromise so they can both find their happily ever after? Or will their relationship forever be relegated to the friend zone?
I’m so excited!!! @bookthrone is spotlighting my NYC Socliates series this month over on their website and in their newsletter.
It’s riches to rags and back again in this NYC romance series as 3 socialites navigate the playing field of independent life, take a few financial knocks, and find their happily ever afters.
You can read the entire spotlight here: NYC SERIES/BOOKTHRONE and if you do, please enter the GIVEAWAY for a chance at a $25.00 Amazon Gift Card. Just scroll all the way down the spotlight page until you see:
then just scroll down after it and see all the options available. The more options you pick, the more points you accrue and the greater your chances of winning!
All the copies are just #99cents each if you purchased all 3 books it would cost you less than a cup of coffee at Starbucks or Dunkin!
At thirty-five, Mitchell Pierce has everything he’s ever wanted. An award-winning architect with his own firm, he collects expensive cars, owns a luxury ocean-front home, and a vacation condo on San Padre Island.
The only thing intruding on his idyllic life is the realization that the majority of his closest friends have married, and had children, which seriously impacts his Sunday football parties with the guys.
Haley Charles is the newly hired project manager at Pierce and McKenna, Architects, one of the city’s most prestigious firms. At twenty-eight, she’s the youngest member of the management team, and determined to make a good impression on the bosses.
When a rush request comes in from one of the firms most valued clients, Mitch has to cover for his honeymooning partner. With the majority of the staff already assigned to ongoing jobs, he finds himself working overtime with the new, and disturbingly attractive, project manager.
Will the late nights and a few shared kisses have him rethinking his bachelor status? Or, is he truly going to be ‘the last man standing’?
And don’t forget to order the Last Man Standing cookbook, GAME ON SNACKS.
All the proceeds from the recipe book go to the WOUNDED WARRIOR PROJECT
Game On Snacks … every confirmed bachelor’s Sunday spread! Twenty-eight delicious recipes. Everything from Appetizers to Sweet Treats.
A companion cookbook to the sweet romance series, Last Man Standing. Fourteen award-winning, best-selling authors bring you fourteen stubborn men, and the food they love!
Will our fourteen feisty heroines be able to keep up with the fellows’ appetites?
All proceeds from this cookbook will be donated quarterly to The Wounded Warrior Project.
Who knew fake dating seem so…real? From the upcoming CHANCE ( Last Man Series) addition:
Chance had the limo wait while he rode the elevator up to Freddie’s third-floor apartment. The building, a post-second world war brick edifice had seen some wear on the outside, but the interior was well-maintained and clean. No doorman stood duty so he located the apartment buzzer next to the name Poole, as she’d instructed, and once bid entry, found the single elevator.
The apartment door opposite the elevator opened as soon as he alighted from it.
“You must be Chance,” a woman he knew without a doubt was Freddie’s mother said. “I’m, Annika, Fredrika’s mother. She’s running a little late and asked me to greet you. Come in, come in.”
The apartment ran true to the original design. Railroad track rooms, one after the other off a long, spacious hallway. Hardwood floors that had seen many feet trample over them were, surprisingly, shiny, the wood glowing brightly. Photographs lined the hallway walls from one end to the other. He recognized a teenaged Freddie with her arm slung around a sullen, younger Lindsey.
“Well, look who it is. Mr. French Roast and a corn muffin.”
Chance grinned at the teen as she sashayed into the wide living room Annika had led him to. At her side she held the hand of a small girl with red hair mimicking her mother’s and grandmother’s and startling blue eyes now wide with interest as they perused him from head to toe.
“You’re tall,” she told him. “I’m Dawn. I’m five.”
He crouched down in front of her and held out his hand. “How do you do, Dawn? I’m Chance. I’m thirty-nine.”
She glanced at his hand, but didn’t shake it, instead declaring, “You’re old.”
“I know,” he said, rising and sighing theatrically. A tiny tug pulled on his lips. “Some days it’s a wonder I can get out of bed.”
“Mommy says you’re taking her to a party.”
“I am.”
“And that I can’t come ‘cuz it’s a grown-up party. That’s not fair.”
“Life’s not fair, peanut,” Lindsey said as she lifted the child in her arms. “Get used to it while you’re young.”
“Lindsey Marie, the things you say.” Annika shook her head. To him, she said, “Fredrika will be right out. She got involved with something and lost track of the time. Would you like something to drink? We have water or I can offer you beer.”
“He drinks coffee, ma,” Lindsey said. “Buckets of it.” She rolled her eyes as she plopped down on the couch with Dawn still in her arms. The child giggled as they bounced.
“I’m fine, thanks,” he said.
“So, Fredrika tells me you’re a lawyer.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I think I would have made a good lawyer,” she said, nodding, a smile tripping across her face. “I like a good argument.”
From the couch, he heard a muffled, “No lie,” and clamped down on the laugh that threatened to seep from him.
“Okay, I’m ready. Sorry.”
He turned and simply lost his breath.
Gone was the ponytailed, overall-wearing, sneaker-shod barista he’d come to know. A vision in deep green had taken her over.
The simple, short-sleeved dress fell from her shoulders to cascade in a simple line to her waist, then flared out to billow just below her knees. Since he’d only ever seen her hair pulled up and back, high on her head, he was shocked at how long it was hanging free and loose about her in a tumble of waves. She’d gone simple on her makeup but managed to look fresh and utterly alluring. A tiny-heeled shoe completed the outfit.
She’d never looked less like someone named Freddie.
“You look lovely,” he said, finally finding his tongue.
I haven’t done one of these in a while and when I woke up I remembered today was Thursday, so…
From my upcoming addition to the LAST MAN STANDING series, CHANCE, dropping on 9.12.2022. Here’s a little something between the h/h to whet your preorder appetites!
“I’m so sorry about this,” Chance told Freddie as he pulled the car into traffic. “Nothing short of coming down with the bubonic plague was going to be a good enough excuse to get out of today. And if I told her I was sick she would have come straight to my apartment to check on me. Probably would have sent her private doc to visit you if we’d said you were afflicted. I’m so sorry,” he said again.
A quick glance across the front of the rental car showed him she wasn’t showing any signs of being angry or put out. In fact, he ventured to think it was the opposite. She looked resigned to it and content.
“Don’t worry about it.” She turned to glance at her daughter who was secured in the booster seat behind them, holding an iPad and with earphones in place. “I wasn’t doing anything today buy baking for tomorrow anyway, and I already got a head start on that this morning.”
“Still, I feel, well, guilty about all this. If I’d never asked you to pretend to be my girlfriend in the first place you wouldn’t have been ambushed into coming along today. My only hope is that after this they’ll leave me, us, alone.”
He remembered saying the same thing after the anniversary party and look how that had backfired.
“It’ll all be fine,” she said. “Where’d you get the car, by the way? I thought you didn’t keep one in the city.”
“I don’t. I rented it for the weekend. It was easier than depending on car service, plus, this way we can leave as soon as we want without having to wait to be picked up.”
Freddie’s laugh filled the cab. “We haven’t even gotten there yet and already you’re planning your escape.”
“It pays to plan ahead,” he muttered.
Why wasn’t she angry? Or at least put out by the situation? He was. In spades.
But saying no to his family wasn’t something he could do. He felt obligated to abide by his aunt’s wishes no matter how much they inconvenienced him.
Freddie, though, had no obligation to his family. And yet, here she was, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, going to a dinner that was sure to be emotionally trying, her daughter in tow, and acting like it was no big deal at all.
The more he came to know the woman the more intrigued he was by her.
Traffic, unfortunately in his eyes, was sparse and they made it over the bridge to his aunt’s Brooklyn brownstone in record time.
When he found a parking spot on her street he started to feel like some cosmic force was conspiring against him, making everything easy today so he’d be forced to stay longer than he wanted.
Freddie took Dawn out of the booster seat and once the child was on the sidewalk between then, she slipped her tiny hand into his, the other in her mother’s. Something shifted in his chest when he looked down at the little redhead and she smiled up at him.
“Mommy,” she said as they made their way up the stoop steps to his aunt’s front door. “Did you make enough cupcakes for me to have two?”
“We’ll see,” Freddie said. “It depends on how many people are here and how well you do with eating your dinner.”
“I’ll be good. Promise. I just hope they don’t have carrots.” She looked back up at Chance. “I don’t like carrots. I don’t like any orange food.”
He pressed her hand and said, “Me, neither.”
“Really?”
Her wide, blue-eyed wonder, made him laugh. “Can’t stand them.”
“Wow. I thought all grownups ate carrots.”
Chance rang the doorbell. “Not this one.” He took a deep breath when the lock shifted.
“Relax,” Freddie said.
“Impossible.”
The door was thrown open wide and his aunt pulled him into her arms, then pushed him away to do the same to Freddie. When it was Dawn’s turn to receive the exuberant welcome, he felt her body press against his leg, her little hand still holding tight to his. In a heartbeat, he picked up her so she wouldn’t have to be engulfed in his aunt’s killer grip and said, “It smells great in here. When are we eating?”
He caught Freddie’s dramatic eye roll as she presented the box filled with the cupcakes she’d baked to his aunt.
From today until August 1, 2022, you can take a chance to win one of 5 print copies of the second book in my Romantic Hauntings series, THE HAUNTING OF WILTON JUNE via Goodreads.
Hotshot movie director Wilton June is in pre-production for a new movie. The moment he sees Maison Toussaint he decides it’s the perfect setting for the film and wants to rent it. The one stumbling block? The owner isn’t sure she can let her ancestral home be used in a movie.
Botanist Jerica Toussaint needs cash – a lot of it – to keep her home up to code and her herbal healing business alive. June’s financial offer is oh-so-tempting, as is the director himself. But the house has a secret Jerica’s guarded her entire life. Can she, in good conscience, rent it to a man who may expose it?
Convincing Jerica to trust him with her home – and her secret – is no easy feat and after a time Will realizes he needs to convince her to trust him with one more thing: her heart.
Good luck, peeps! And if you just want to buy the book instead of entering, here’s the Amazon link: THOWJ
Peggy Jaeger, Author 