Tag Archives: new book release

A new #bookrelease from #author Claire Marti

It’s always a great day in my house when an author whom I love, adore, and respect, drops a new book. Today, that author is the lovely Claire Marti.

I know Clair as a Wild Rose Press sistah, but she’s branched out to the indie market and her first book in a brand new independent series has hit the book reading world. Take a gander below

NOBODY ELSE BUT YOU, PACIFIC VISTA RANCH BOOK 1 

A smoking hot stuntman. A fiery horse breeder. And a 220-acre ranch too small for both of them.

She’s avoided Hollywood for years…

 When an arrogant Hollywood stuntman struts into Samantha McNeill’s breeding barn, sparks fly. She doesn’t care how mouthwateringly gorgeous he is, not when he assumes Pacific Vista Ranch’s resident horse breeding manager must be a man. Not to mention his job threatens to pull her family back into the paparazzi filled world they escaped from over a decade ago.

Now it’s at her door––wearing faded jeans and a wicked grin.

 Holt Ericsson can tell the beautiful redhead hates him on sight and the feeling is becoming mutual. But he will call in a favor and convince Sam’s legendary director father that Pacific Vista Ranch is the only suitable place left in California to film an epic Western. Holt’s invested all his savings in the movie and his entire career is riding on it. No way will he allow one irritating, sexy woman to stand in his way.

Sam intends to fight him at every turn…if only her heart didn’t race when they’re together. Holt does his best to steer clear of her…except all he wants to do is hold her close. The sizzling attraction between them is either going to burn up the sheets or burn down the ranch…

EXCERPT:

Swallowing a flutter of nerves in her throat, she rapped on the door. She was simply going for business. Ranch business. Bringing him dinner was simply being polite, like her father had raised her to be. So why was her heart hammering against her ribcage?

“It’s unlocked.” A muffled voice called. So much for manners. Holt apparently didn’t seem to bother with them.

She hesitated a moment. She smoothed back an errant strand into the ballet bun she hadn’t bothered to unravel. Although she’d changed out of her dance gear into her favorite old pair of jeans and a super-soft t-shirt, she hadn’t been in the mood to mess with her hair. Briefly, she regretted not being more like her twin sister, talented with makeup and hair. But, nope, Dylan had received the lion’s share of feminine genes.

Whatever. She opened the door, and then froze. He was rubbing his hair dry with a white towel slung over one shoulder. The pristine white material emphasized his bronzed skin. Tiny beads of moisture clung to chiseled pecs and the light sprinkling of golden hair on his chest was the only thing preventing him from looking like a marble statue. Barely. Shredded eight-pack abs and sharp V-cuts of muscle converged at the waistband of a pair of jeans as faded as her own. Her mouth suddenly parched, she swallowed. Hard.

“Sorry, I got stuck on the phone.” He grinned and tossed the towel onto a nearby chair.

She jerked her gaze up to his face, which had to be safer, right? Her pulse thrummed in her temple and heat descended to her belly. Damn. His face was definitely not safer than his gorgeous body.

“How’d you get that scar?” She blurted out the words, desperate to distract herself from his pure physical presence. He really needed to put on a shirt. Pronto.

“Scar? Which one?” He laughed, seemingly oblivious to her reaction, thank goodness.

“Forehead. The one across your forehead.” A flaw. Weren’t scars flaws? Why did it make him look just a little dangerous? And it did save him from utter perfection. Didn’t it?

BUY LINKS:

AMazon // B&N // Kobo // ibooks

A little about Clair

Claire Marti started writing stories as soon as she was old enough to pick up pencil and paper. After graduating from the University of Virginia with a BA in English Literature, Claire was sidetracked by other careers, including practicing law, selling software for legal publishers, and managing a non-profit animal rescue for a Hollywood actress.

Finally, Claire followed her heart and now focuses on two of her true passions: writing romance and teaching yoga.

Her award winning debut novel, Second Chance in Laguna, was a Finalist for Best Contemporary Romance in the prestigious Stiletto Contest, won best unpublished contemporary romance in the Heart of the Molly and third place in the Maggie. Book two in the Finding Forever in Laguna series, At Last in Lagunaand Book three, Sunset in Laguna, ​are available everywhere. Sunset in Laguna ​was a Golden Quill finalist.
 
Claire’s exciting new Pacific Vista Ranch series set on a horse-breeding ranch in exclusive Rancho Santa Fe, California, launches in September 2019. 

When Claire’s not writing, she’s teaching yoga. You can find her teaching at studios in sunny San Diego or enjoy fifty online classes on the international website www.yogadownload.com. A breast cancer survivor, Claire is a sought-after speaker on the power of yoga and meditation. She’s been published in numerous magazines with articles on wellness and is the author of a memoir, ​Come Ride with Me Along the Big C, on her experience beating breast cancer. 
 
Claire is a member of the Romance Writers of America, Contemporary Romance Writers, and the San Diego Romance Writers.

WEBSITE & SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

Website //Facebook //Twitter //Instagram // Goodreads // Bookbub // AMazon

 

 

 

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A working vacation? Is that an oxymoron?

So if you can see the date in the bottom right hand corner of the above banner, you know my newest book, DIRTY DAMSELS,  released on 7.2.19, smack dab in the middle of my summer family vaca to England.

I didn’t know when the trip was planned and booked that I’d be having a release during the time away. And not only time away, but in another country. In another time zone. With lousy wifi ( Sorry, London, but it’s true).

Any hoo.

The day this book released my family went to Hampton Court to see where Henry VIII romped about, then to several other museums before finishing up at the Sherlock Holmes restaurant for dinner. (  I made dinner, but skipped the rest of the day because I had to be available for blogs and interviews during the day.)

Having a book published when you are, a: in a foreign country and, b: 5 hours ahead of home, was tough, to say the least. I spent 12 hours in my hotel room, glued to the computer and hoping the lousy wifi held. Luckily, it did. I didn’t have to reconnect and reboot more than twice, so thank you Jesus for that.

I was able to watch my Amazon rating all day during the release and I think this was my number one preordered seller yet. I guess I’ll know for sure once the royalty check comes in.

So the question my family asked that night as we all settled around the dinner table was, was it worth missing a great day of touristing to sit in the hotel during release day. I had to be honest and tell them…it was. A book is like a new baby. You want to be there for it, nurture it, watch it grow. In this case I was watching it grow in readership, but you get me, right? I’m not sure the extended members of my family did, but that’s okay.

Would I ever want to be away from home on holiday with another book release. Hell, no. Hopefully, this was a once in a lifetime thing. Or at least a once in a decade thing for me!

When I first saw Cynderella all covered in soot in that sexy maid uniform, I knew I wanted to be her Prince.

She’s a small and savvy businesswoman who’s built her cleaning company from the ground up. But now that Dirty Damsels is booming, I’ve been hired to arrange a hostile takeover.

But the temptation of having her was too much to ignore… We ended up spending one night together—a night neither of will forget. Now, I want more. I need more. I want to spend every night, skin-on-skin, with my beautiful Ella.

Problem is, when she finds out who I really am, she’ll never forgive me.

Available in KU and here:

Amazon US:

Amazon CA:

Amazon UK:

Amazon AU:

Until next time ~Peg

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

A #NewBookRelease from #author Jana Richards

My Wild Rose sistah, Jana Richards, has a new book releasing and she was kind enough to stop by and tell me a little about it. And because I’m a share-er ( heehee) I wanted you all to know about it too…

Blurb:

After causing three cooking fires in her apartment, Iris Jensen finds herself evicted and homeless. She lands on Riley Benson’s doorstep, looking to rent a room in the beautiful old home he’s restoring. It’s only for six weeks until Iris leaves Portland, Oregon for her new job on a cruise ship. Firefighter Riley knows firsthand what a bad tenant she can be. But he needs money to finish the work on the house he loves. And something about Iris pulls at his heart…

Meanwhile, in Heaven, two angels watch over the young lovers. Angelica and Hildegard work in Heaven’s Relationship Division, where angels match mortals with their soul mates. The angels believe so strongly in Iris and Riley’s love that they break Heaven’s rules to help them. Can the angels convince them their love will last a lifetime?

 

Excerpt

Riley looked into her beautiful blue eyes and her smiling face and did the only thing he was capable of doing at the moment.

He kissed her.

Maybe later, he told himself, when sanity returned, he’d think of a hundred reasons why pulling Iris into his arms, holding her snug against his body, and plundering her soft, sweet mouth was not a good idea. But for now, right now, as she wound her arms around his neck and made tiny sounds of excitement deep in her throat, it felt exactly right.

Heaven. Having Iris in his corner made him believe everything was possible.

He stepped backward toward the stairs, pulling Iris with him, intent on taking her upstairs to his room. He suddenly tripped, nearly losing his balance. He glanced behind him and saw the object he’d stumbled over. A set of luggage sat next to the stairs, still bearing tags from the retailer.

“What the hell is this?”

Iris kissed his neck. “I’m sorry. I should have taken them up to my room.”

Iris had bought new luggage for her trip. Her plans hadn’t changed.

She’s leaving me.

The thought acted as effectively as a bucket of cold water tossed over his head. What was he doing? She was leaving in three weeks and didn’t plan to return. The calendar in the kitchen reminded him of that every day. Why start something that would only lead to heartache?

He’d already lost too many people in his life.

And Riley instinctively knew that if he let himself get close to Iris, let himself love her, a part of him would not survive when she left.

Buy Links:: Amazon B & N | | Google Play | Kobo | iBooks | Walmart

BookStrand // Amazon CA // Amazon UK

Author Bio:

When Jana Richards read her first romance novel, she immediately knew two things: she had to commit the stories running through her head to paper, and they had to end with a happily ever after. She also knew she’d found what she was meant to do. Since then she’s never met a romance genre she didn’t like. She writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and historical romance set in World War Two, in lengths ranging from short story to full length novel. Just for fun, she throws in generous helpings of humor, and the occasional dash of the paranormal. Her paranormal romantic suspense “Seeing Things” was a 2008 EPPIE finalist.

In her life away from writing, Jana is an accountant/admin assistant, a mother to two grown daughters, and a wife to her husband Warren. She enjoys golf, yoga, movies, concerts, travel and reading, not necessarily in that order. She and her husband live in Winnipeg, Canada with an elderly Pug/Terrier named cross Lou. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached through her website at www.janarichards.com

Social Media Links:

Website //Blog //Facebook //Twitter // Amazon //Newsletter //Goodreads // Bookbub //

 

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A new #DeerbourneInn book from Wild Rose Press #author #LuannaStewart

 


 

I’m so excited! Another wonderful DEERBOURNE INN novella has been released. This one’s called LOVE PROOF and it’s by ubertalented and multipublished WRP sistah LUANNA STEWART.

Luanna dropped by recently to give me a little peek at what she does during her favorite season, Summer. She’s an active gal, for sure.

Luanna, take it away…

Summer at last!

Summer has finally arrived in my neck of the woods, both officially and according to the outdoor temperature. A long, cold, wet spring gave us all cabin fever. But now we can open the windows, slip on the flip flops, and soak up a bit of Vitamin D – after the proper application of sunscreen, of course.

In no particular order, here are my favourite summer activities:

 

Camping – every summer we camp at least once in our favourite campground, Kejimkujik National Park. From before we were married, through our boy’s childhoods and teen years, and including last summer, we’ve enjoyed hiking, paddling, and listening to the call of the loon.

 

Long walks in the neighbourhood. We live toward the end of a dead end country road and there is little traffic – the perfect route for walking. The only neighbours I see on a regular basis are a small herd of cows.

 

 

Sitting on our beach watching the osprey and bald eagles fish for their supper. We are blessed with our own little piece of heaven and enjoy the quiet and solitude every evening at beer o’clock, provided the weather cooperates.

Exploring other beaches – we can be at any number of lovely, sparsely inhabited beaches within an hour’s drive of our house. Long stretches of sand or pebbles are the perfect spot to hunt foe beach glass.

Hanging the wash on the clothesline. You may think I’m silly, but I love, love, love making use of sunshine and wind (free to everyone) to dry the clothes. Nothing beats the scent and feel of line-dried sheets on the bed.

Kayaking – since we have water frontage, it’s a simple matter to carry our boats to the water’s edge, climb in, and paddle away. We can circumnavigate a large island off the coast, or explore nearby coves and inlets. We enjoy watching he shearwaters dive for fish, and have even been kept company by a couple of seals.

What is your favourite summer activity? Or, if you live in the southern hemisphere, how are you spending your winter days?

 

 

 

 

Blurb:

Unemployed photojournalist Raynor Elliot stops at a bakery near the famous Deerbourne Inn. Not only does he get a lead on a job but the bakery’s owner is that awkward kid he knew in high school, only now she has fabulous curves and an irreverent sense of humor. The cozy bakery, with its aroma of sugar, vanilla and spice, has more to offer than tasty cookies.

Fiona MacLeod has been plagued for years by the need to make amends for telling The Big Lie. When the lie’s victim strolls into her bakery with his icy blue stare and killer charm, she feels like she’s standing too close to a hot oven.

Between running her bakery and frosting cupcakes for the Mad River Garden Party, she’s pretty sure she’s falling in love with this infuriating, sexy man. Can Fiona dredge up the courage to confess, face the consequences, and hope for forgiveness?

Excerpt:

“I remember those days.” She pushed the calculator to the side, too tired to worry about planning the week’s baking schedule. “Why’d you study journalism?

“Truth is important to me. I was tired of all the lies in government, at every level. I wanted to change that. Ultimately make the world a better place. Easy peasy, right?” His lips quirked and he shook his head.

“That’s why I decided to be a baker. Brighten someone’s day with a special treat.”

He scooted his chair closer and pointed at the column of numbers on the page. “You want me to do the rest?” His arm, bare to the bicep, lightly tanned, dusted with blond hair, a little lighter than on his head, rested less than an inch from her own spindly pale arm. Not spindly compared to other women, hefting bags of flour and moving trays of baked goods did take some muscle power. But spindly compared to his manly toned muscles flexing under skin that she’d bet her last jar of sprinkles was smooth and warm. She clenched her hand.

No touching allowed.

“We have cupcakes to frost.” She bounded from the chair and rushed into the kitchen.

Holy moly, the guy oozed sex. In a good way. A very good way. She pulled a clean apron off the shelf and cinched it around her waist. An extra layer of armor between her and temptation in the form of Raynor. The seeker of truth. The man whose mission in life was to expose lies. The reporter who thought liars were not decent human beings.

Get your copy here:

Amazon US // Amazon CA // AMazon UK // Amazon Au // Nook // Kobo

A little more about Luanna…

Luanna Stewart has been creating adventures for her imaginary friends since childhood. At the tender age of twelve she discovered her grandmother’s stash of romance novels, after which all plots had to lead to a happily-ever-after.

Luanna spends her days writing sexy romantic suspense, steamy paranormal romance, and spicy historical romance. When she’s not torturing her heroes and heroines, she’s either in her kitchen baking something delicious, or protecting her garden from the chickens. She lives in Nova Scotia with her incredibly patient husband and two spoiled cats.

You can connect with Luanna here:

Website // Twitter // Instagram // Facebook // Pinterest // Goodreads // Amazon  

And don’t forget to read all the other DEERBOURNE INN books already out in the book reading world! There are more to come in the next year, and I’ll be promoting them all.

 

THE DEERBOURNE INN SERIES ( to date)

By Reservation Only   by Barbara Edwards

Hope’s Dream   by Peggy Jaeger

Freedom’s Path   By Linda Carroll Bradd

Lyrical Embrace  by Amber Daulton

Spirited Quest     by Julie Howard

Soul of the Storm By Jean M. Grant

Lion Dancing for Love   by Laura Boon

Forever In A Moment  by Charlotte O’Shay

Witches’ Cliff   by Peggy Chambers

Mystic Maples by Tena Stetler

Love Calls You Home by Donna Simonetta

By Reservation Only (Deerbourne Inn) Hope’s Dream (Deerbourne Inn)Freedom’s Path (Deerbourne Inn)Lyrical Embrace (Deerbourne Inn)
Spirited Quest (Deerbourne Inn)Soul of the Storm (Deerbourne Inn)Lion Dancing for Love (Deerbourne Inn Series)Forever in a Moment (Deerbourne Inn)
  Witches’ Cliff (Deerbourne Inn Series) Mystic Maples (Deerbourne Inn Series)Love Calls You Home (Deerbourne Inn)Love Proof

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DIRTY DAMSELS #CoverReveal #LimitlessPublishing

Well… I’ve been waiting forevah to show this cover to you, so….here it is, the cover for my 7.2.19 release of DIRTY DAMSELS ( DotComGirlsSeries, book 1) from Limitless Publishers:

and here’s the book flat that goes along with it:

Now, it’s going to be exclusive for KU and 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

*** Preorders are available right now, so order your copy today and on July 2 it will be in your inbox when you wake up, just in time for a 4th of July Beach read!

I’m over the moon about this new series. It’s a little…sexier, than I usually write, but fun, too!

Blurb: The cover jacket is written in the male Point of view ( isn’t that sexy?!) But the book itself is written in first person, female – or heroine’s view – Cynderella Jones.

When I first saw Cynderella all covered in soot in that sexy maid uniform, I knew I wanted to be her Prince.

She’s a small and savvy businesswoman who’s built her cleaning company from the ground up. But now that Dirty Damsels is booming, I’ve been hired to arrange a hostile takeover.

But the temptation of having her was too much to ignore… We ended up spending one night together—a night neither of will forget. Now, I want more. I need more. I want to spend every night, skin-on-skin, with my beautiful Ella.

Problem is, when she finds out who I really am, she’ll never forgive me.

And uber talented writer and graphic artist, Nancy Fraser, made me a fabulous Book trailer to go along with the fun, flirty theme of the book. I simply adore the jazz music! The video is on my You Tube channel, but you can get a gander at it here, too.

Honestly, I’m giddy!! ( Can you tell??) Get your preorders made today, peeps!

Until next time ~ Peg

 

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#Author C.B. Clark talks about her newest book SECRET BETRAYAL

I’ve said this before, but I love when one of my Wild Rose Press sistahs comes to visit, and I doubly love it when they’ve got a new book to promote! Today, romantic suspense sistah, C.B. Clark is here, talking about her newest release, SECRET BETRAYAL. The subject matter in the book sent her on a research expedition before she sat down and wrote this fast-paced, timely tale and she agreed to tell me a little about her process.

Here’s C.B…..

Authors research the most bizarre topics in preparation for writing their books. In the past, I’ve investigated unique ways to poison someone, how to distinguish human bones from animal bones, how to fly an airplane under the radar, and a dozen other topics guaranteed to raise eyebrows. For my newest novel, Secret Betrayalwhere the heroine is a victim of stalking, I researched incidents of this crime, talked to victims, and met with community support groups.

I was shocked to discover that 1 in 6 American women will be stalked in their lifetime. Victims often receive unwanted phone calls, emails, texts and lavish gifts. The terror of knowing someone is watching you and monitoring everything you do is overwhelming. No wonder these women suffer serious physical, social, and psychological effects. Most stalking occurs between people who know each other, but one-quarter of victims are harassed by strangers. Fortunately anti-stalking legislation is in place in most states, and the authorities are taking this crime seriously. If caught, stalkers face serious jail time.

Head college librarian, Marissa Reynolds has spent years distancing herself from her crime king pin uncle and his criminal empire. When she awakens in an unfamiliar hotel room with blood on her hands and no memory of how she got there, the past returns with a vengeance, and her life spirals into a nightmare. 

Straight-laced, Assistant district Attorney, Scott Bannister has spent a lifetime seeking justice for the senseless gangland shooting deaths of his parents. When he realizes Marissa is the niece of his prime suspect, he crosses a line guaranteed to put in jeopardy both his life and his beloved career. 

He’s made it clear he’ll do anything to destroy her uncle. She fears he’s using her to achieve his goal. As the body count mounts, and their lives are threatened, they must put aside their distrust and work together to find the devious killer. Will they be able to forgive and find true love?

 Excerpt: 

She pushed to her hands and knees. The pounding in her brain mushroomed into a full-blown, jackhammer assault. With a moan, she sank onto her bottom and grabbed her head in a fruitless effort to keep her brain from exploding. Despite the pain, she needed to get up. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Faint wisps of light seeped through the edges of the window curtains. The distant sound of traffic echoed through the glass. A lamp imbued the room with a soft, rosy glow, revealing a king-size bed. The cover on the bed was a glossy, garish pink, the pillows covered in the same lurid color, the edges trimmed with frilly, black lace.

She rubbed the back of her neck and closed her eyes, but when she opened them again she was still in the unfamiliar room. A battered desk faced the bed, a large, flat screen television on top. The flickering images of a naked, full-breasted woman being entertained by two equally naked men played across the screen.

A wingback chair, covered in black leatherette sat in the far corner where a door was ajar revealing the cracked linoleum floor of a bathroom and the edge of a chipped porcelain sink. A framed diagram of a fire escape route was posted on the back of the other door. A hotel room? She dug her fingers into her temples. Why couldn’t she remember?

You can get your copy of Secret Betrayals here:

Amazon // iTunes // Nook // Kobo // Google Books //

A little about C.B. Clark: 

Award-winning author C.B. Clark has written five romantic suspense novels published by The Wild Rose Press. She has worked as an archaeologist and an educator. She enjoys hiking, canoeing, and snowshoeing with her husband and dog near her home in the wilderness of central British Columbia.

You can connect with C.B here:

instagram // Blog // Twitter //Facebook // Goodreads // Amazon 

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#Author Mary Morgan introduces her newest #book DESTINY OF A WARRIOR

My lovely writing friend and WILD ROSE PRESS sistah, Mary Morgan, has another wonderful addition to her LEGENDS OF THE FENIAN WARRIOR SERIES, DESTINY OF A WARRIOR. Today,  she’s here with 8 reasons why you should read this book ( and really, you should read ALL of her books, but that’s just my humble opinion.

Here’s Mary…… 

Eight Reasons You Should Read Destiny of a Warrior

  1. Fenian Warrior, Aidan Kerrigan is the perfect hero. He’s ancient and powerful—honorable and loyal to his people. At seven foot tall with eyes the color of lavender and silver, he conveys a charismatic charm that oozes with raw sexiness. Need I say more?
  2. You get to explore ancient standing stones (think Stonehenge) and find out what some of the graffiti on the stones mean.
  3. Not only are you able to wander inside a thirteenth century Scottish castle, but an even older one in Ireland.
  4. I’m taking you inside the Pleasure Gardens within the Fae realm. Be forewarned and prepared. It’s extremely sensual.
  5. You get to witness a favorite hobby of the Queen of the Fae.
  6. As a member of the Society of the Thistle, Rose MacLaren will show you her secret agenda regarding the standing stones, and it doesn’t pertain to botanical study.
  7. Discover what a Fenian Warrior likes to cook.
  8. Celtic Mythology comes alive within the pages of this story, and when you’re done, you’ll feel transported into another world.

DESTINY OF A WARRIOR

 

“You met him in the Order of the Dragon Knights. Now, journey to the realm of the Fae and witness their greatest legend!”

As leader of the Fenian Warriors, Aidan Kerrigan’s accolades are many and his loyalty to the Fae unwavering. When an unexpected mission sends him to the human world and a chance encounter with Rose MacLaren, he’s tempted for the first time in his existence to discard duty and claim what is forbidden.

Rose MacLaren, a Society of the Thistle member, yearns to expand her botanical knowledge with her love of history. After her rescue by a handsome stranger, she is compelled to look beyond what her rational mind comprehends and unravel the secret of the standing stones, as well as the man who captivates her.

In a mystical world ruled by ancient laws and edicts, can a fierce warrior choose a path destined for love? And will a woman honoring the ways of the land believe in a myth only spoken of in legends? If they do, will their love be enough to defy death’s punishment?

Excerpt:

A chill of foreboding swept through him. In her short time of being among these standing stones, she’d obtained bits of knowledge no one else had come upon. “Continue,” he encouraged softly.

Hugging her notebook against her chest, she went to the tallest stone in the center. “These symbols and images on the back mirror the three centered on the slab. In addition, they are all the same as the other site outside of Glasgow.”

“They’re merely circles,” he admitted, keeping his voice steady. “The Celtic triskele symbol also decorates many other stone structures.”

Her brow furrowed in obvious concentration as she disappeared around the back of the stone.

Tossing the pinecone aside, Aidan stood. His instincts screamed at him to do something to prevent her from further inspecting the stone. Only he knew the significance. And he now understood why he was sent here. In all his travels, not one human had documented his time among them. Or so he believed. Upon his arrival, he longed to pulverize the stones to shards of dust after viewing the back. The altar stone had remained buried under moss, dirt, and ivy. The same was true with the tallest stone at its base.

He fought against extending his hand outward and sinking the area a thousand feet underground. Making quick strides to Rose, he came to an abrupt halt. Her face was ashen as she knelt behind the stone, sketching an entire scene on her notepad. One side mirrored the stones, but on the opposite page, her hand drew an epic vista.

The blood pounded inside his head, and he dared to draw in a breath. With each stroke of her hand, an image came to life and his greatest fear unfolded. Slowly, Aidan lifted his hand. The power built and traveled down his arm. He had to destroy the picture. Banish the past vision from her mind. Eradicate all knowledge of him. Seal the door to the past from the present.

The truth must never be revealed.

But when Rose lifted her gaze to meet his, Aidan’s heart stopped. For the first time in his life, he was torn between duty and his own personal need.

“I am sorry,” he stated in a strangled voice.

 Get your copy of DESTINY OF A WARRIOR HERE:

amazon //B&N //iBooks // Kobo // Amazon CA // Amazon UK// Amazon AU // 

And get the entire Collection of the LEGENDS OF THE FENIAN WARRIORS here: Amazon

 

A little about Mary Morgan

Award-winning Celtic paranormal and fantasy romance author, Mary Morgan, resides in Northern California with her own knight in shining armor. However, during her travels to Scotland, England, and Ireland, she left a part of her soul in one of these countries and vows to return. 
Mary’s passion for books started at an early age along with an overactive imagination. Inspired by her love for history and ancient Celtic mythology, her tales are filled with powerful warriors, brave women, magic, and romance. It wasn’t until the closure of Borders Books where Mary worked that she found her true calling by writing romance. Now, the worlds she created in her mind are coming to life within her stories.

If you enjoy history, tortured heroes, and a wee bit of magic, then time-travel within the pages of her books.

Connect with Mary here:

Website //Blog // Twitter // Facebook //Goodreads // Amazon // Pinterest // Instagram//Bookbub // Linked In

As an added special gift, Mary is having a contest for a signed PRINT Copy of DESTINY OF A WARRIOR from June 5- July 15. Enter here: Rafflecopter

 

 

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A new #bookrelease from #author Charlotte O’Shay

I’ve said this a thousand times, but I lovelovelove  when one of my Wild Rose Press sistahs comes to visit, especially when she brings news of a new book release. Today, I’ve got dear friend and amazeballs writer, Charlotte O’Shay visiting me. Her newest book has just released and she graciously offered to tell me a little about it, and about the series it’s attached to. So, sit back and meet my lovely friend….

Charlotte:

Thanks Peggy for your generous invitation to chat with you today.

Woohoo! It’s release day for Their No-Strings Affair and I’m pumped to unleash this story on Romancelandia.

Their No-Strings Affair is the final book in my City of Dreams series. The story is a steamy, standalone contemporary.

My idea for this series came from the knowledge that NYC has always been a premiere destination for ambitious souls. It’s also a great place to get lost, or try to, if you’re running from a painful past or hiding a secret. All of the women and men in my series, Sabrina & Vlad, Lacey & Connor and Honey & Jake, are strivers and dreamers—all hellbent on achieving their goals. Dealing with painful pasts, the last thing they’re looking for is permanency in a relationship or romantic love. To a person they don’t believe in it. But sometimes fate has other plans.

Honey arrives in the city ready to jump start her art career. Her move to NYC was impulsively executed on the heels of a humiliating breakup with her long-term boyfriend. To make some fast cash she fills in as a server at a fancy, Pierre Hotel wedding (Sabrina and Vlad’s wedding ~The Marriage Ultimatum) and quickly runs afoul of security for the event run by Jake Ricco.

BLURB:

Honey packs everything she owns and heads to NYC to jumpstart her art career. Her cheating boyfriend is history, and she finally acknowledges the truth of her mother’s mantra: Careers are forever and happily ever after isn’t in their DNA.

All she needs is a job and a place to live. What she doesn’t need is a taciturn, sexy, ballbuster but she’s woman enough to know the difference between need and want. Isn’t she?

Jake’s childhood was marred by tragedy and his future hijacked to a promise born of guilt. His failure drove him to a career as a SEAL and a security expert.
But it’s not enough. Soon he’ll give up his freedom in reparation for the life he lost. Honey may be the last sweet stop on the road to a joyless future. If it’s what they both want, where’s the harm in a no-strings affair?

Excerpt:

A hand closed over her arm, and the tray of empties pitched sideways like the deckchairs on the Titanic. She heaved out a frustrated breath and stopped. The empties slid to a halt on the tray.

Honey was in no mood, especially not today, to be manhandled by a guy just because he was bigger and she stood only five-two in her sneakers.

“Get…your…hand…off…me. Right now. I don’t know who you think you are…” She pushed out the words low and slow. She could do this. She could get rid of him and squash her temper. This horrendous day was moments away from exploding into utter disaster.

But no, he wasn’t letting go of her arm, and it was either let the whole tray of wine glasses tumble to the floor, or let the bully have his say. Mother Nature had a nasty sense of humor, making Honey the size of a hummingbird and giving her the temper of a hippo.

“Who I am is your worst nightmare. Now plant your feet and give me your name.”

“Get lost.” Her words came out in a hiss. “Let go of my arm, and I’ll forget this happened.”

“Oh, really?” A sarcastic black brow lifted. “Give me your name now, and maybe”—his sneer said right, if you believe that, I have some bitcoin to sell you—“I won’t write you up.”

Honey stood her ground, lifted her chin, and stared him down in a way her brothers would’ve recognized as dangerous.

“First, let go of my arm.”

The volume of her voice inched up a couple of notches. Loud enough so any passing guests would wonder just what was going on in the midst of this glamorous wedding reception.

He released her arm but stayed so far inside her personal space she caught a hint of the lemon and leather of his aftershave. The heady scent fit the vibe of that TV commercial she loved, the one where the amber Italian sun cast shadows on a gorgeous guy on a motorcycle speeding down some scenic Roman side street at sunset.

Buy links

Their No-Strings Affair

Amazon US // Amazon UK //  Amazon CA // Amazon AU // Nook // IBooks  // Google play // Kobo

Look for books 1 and 2 in Charlotte’s City Of Dream trilogy:

The Marriage Ultimatum

and A Model Engagement

 

A little about Charlotte:

Author Charlotte O’Shay was born in New York City into big family and then married into another big family.

Negotiating skills honed at the dinner table led her to a career in the law.

But after four beautiful children joined the crowded family tree, Charlotte traded her legal career to write about happily ever afters in the City of Dreams.

Charlotte loves to challenge her heroines and heroes with a crisis and watch them figure out who they are while they fall in love.

You can connect with Charlotte here:

 WEBSITE // INSTAGRAM // TWITTER  // PINTEREST  // FACEBOOK PAGE  // BOOKBUB

 

 

 

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#TeaserTuesday 5.13.19

I have another new series starting – hopefully- by the end of this year, titled A PRIDE OF BROTHERS. For those of you who remember my Will Cook For Love series, Joshua Keane ran a Private Investigative/Security firm with his 2 brothers and his best friend, Rick Bannerman. Rock made an appearance in A Shot At Love and I lovedlovedloved him so much I wanted to give him his own story. Book 1 of POB, Rick’s story, is it. Abigail Laine, one of the  7 Laine girls from the WCFL series, gets her story here, too. This is a long passage from the beginning of the book, but sets up their conflict and storyline.  Enjoy! ( or at least, I hope you do!!! HEEHEE)

A few hours and several glasses of wedding celebration bubbly later, Abby spotted the object of her lust-filled fantasies slip through the ballroom doors and out onto the terrace.

It never occurred to her not to follow him.

Spring had surfaced two weeks prior and the fading light between dusk and nightfall was grasping for a few more minutes to shine. Abby spotted him at the far corner of the balcony, overlooking Central Park. Elbows leaning on the railing, he was staring off into the distance. For a brief moment she was afforded the opportunity to study him unawares.

The person who invented tuxedos should be sainted. Or at least knighted. There was nothing else that made a gorgeous man even more attractive. If Rick weren’t a private investigator he could easily pose for a men’s eveningwear line. His physique was perfectly model proportioned according to Gemma, the professional photographer in the group, and his classic, carved-from-marble good features were captivating.

All in all a hunky, sexy guy. And one she wanted to get closer to—in the purely biblical sense. There was no doubt in her mind Rick Bannerman was a man who knew what to do with a woman, and please God she wanted to be that woman. Even for one night.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you it was rude to stare?”

The quiet pitch in his voice bounced off the tree canopy in front of them and vibrated through her body from head to heels. She’d been hidden in the shadows and he hadn’t moved a muscle, and yet he’d known she was standing there, gawking.

Abby walked toward him, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Mom was too busy working three jobs and finding herself,” she said as she came closer, “and Dad bolted before he could teach us anything.”

Rick turned his head a fraction, his body staying in the same leaning forward, relaxed position, but the second his gaze landed on her she felt like a deer paralyzed in an on-coming truck’s blaring headlights on a lonely road at two a.m.

Her breath caught and she swore the cool temperature in the surrounding air went up a good ten degrees around him.

Maybe she should have had another glass of fortification before deciding to come outside.

“And I’m pretty confident you’re used to people, especially women, staring at you.”

He didn’t answer.

She’d give anything to know what he was thinking as his gaze trailed from her eyes, down to her mouth where they—gulp—lingered for a moment and then back up again. She couldn’t stop the shiver that jumped through her.

Rick finally moved when she ran her hands up her chilled, naked arms. He shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket in one fluid motion that had her mouth watering. When he took a step toward her and flung it around her shoulders he was close enough for her to stretch up and run her lips along his jaw and finally taste him.

In the time it took her to gather her courage to do it, he moved back and shot his hands into his pant pockets.

“You shouldn’t be out here in that slip of a dress,” he said, chinning her bridesmaid gown. “It’s still cool at night and you’re not dressed for the weather.”

Abby pulled the jacket tighter around her shoulders, sighing when she caught a whiff of Rick’s cologne clinging to it. Whether from the heady, musky scent she’d now and forever equate with him, or the dipping temperature, her nipples shot to bruising points under her soft strapless push-up bra. The dress was a shear, pale blue satin spaghetti-strapped tea length design and, as Rick pointed out, did nothing to protect her from the elements.

“Thanks,” she said.

“You should go back inside where it’s warmer, Abigail. I’m sure you’ve got minion duties to perform.”

Her back went ramrod straight. “I hate being called Abigail. Something I’ve told you many times before.”

He cocked his head a bit, the sexy, small smirk dancing across his lips again. “And still…” He lifted his hands from his packets in a “what can I say” gesture.

“That’s just mean. Calling a person something you know they don’t like.”

“It is your name, kiddo. Abigail June.” His careless shrug pulled his shirt tight across his massive shoulders. Abby’s fingers twitched to touch them. Instead, she tightened her grip on the jacket lapels.

How did he know her full name? She didn’t remember ever telling him because she did everything in her power to forget it. It was so…old lady-ish. Like she lived with seventeen cats and read sweet romances all day and night long. Alone.

“You’re such a pain.” She shook her head and pouted.

“Am I?”

“You know you are. And you’re making me forget the reason I followed you out here in the first place.” She almost stomped her foot, thought better of it at the last second.

Something shifted in his eyes. Even in the rapidly fading light, she saw it.

“You…followed me…out here, Abigail?”

Good Lord, she didn’t need the jacket at all. One glance at the hotter-than-a-poker glaze in his eyes heated her entire body.

“Ye-yes,” she answered, hating he could reduce her to a stuttering chit.

“Why?” He leaned a hip against the metal railing, his hands still secured inside his pockets. Comfortable, relaxed, and so damn hot she wanted to scream at him to take her in his arms and make her his for the night.

She wasn’t going to let him sabotage her seduction plan. No. She’d worked out everything she wanted to say, the perfect way to goad him into noticing her. If she could get him to dance with her, even once, get his arms around her, she’d be able to make him see how good it could be between them.

But first she had to get him on the dance floor and from everything she’d observed tonight, he was happy to let his dance card stay empty.

“You’re shirking your wedding guest duties,” she said with a slight head bob.

“There’s no such thing.”

“Yes, there is. As a guest, a male guest,” she lowered her chin, pinning him with her own intense glare now, “it’s your responsibility to dance with the female guests. There are quite a few unattached women at this wedding and it hasn’t gone unnoticed you’ve danced with no one except the bride. That’s bad form. And etiquette. And…rude.”

Her eyes narrowed when his laugh, loud and filled with humor, bounced through the trees. “Unnoticed by who? The wedding police? Kandy?”

Her gaze darted down to her shoes and then back up at him. “Among…others.”

With his head still cocked, he unfurled his hands from his pockets, stood upright and moved into her space. Even in her heels, she had to dip her head back to maintain eye contact.

“Others?” he asked, his voice low, so low she had to pitch forward a little to hear him. “Or…just you, Abigail?”

When he was close enough for her to know her breasts would bounce off his chest if she inhaled, he leaned down, fingered the lapel on his jacket, his knuckle grazing the column of her throat.

Her brain shut down the moment his fingers made contact with her skin. Despite the nippy bite in the air she was hit with a fireball radiating downward from his touch. It was a wonder she didn’t start sweating.

Abby swallowed.

And then did it again.

His eyes were focused on hers, those half closed lids doing nothing to shield the heat smoldering under them. “If you wanted to dance with me, all you had to do”—his gaze dipped down her lips again—“was ask.”

Dance? Lord, she wanted to do a whole helluva lot more than simply dance with this man.

“I—”

She licked her suddenly parched lips, her eyes never wavering from his sharp gaze.

In a move as natural as breathing, she stepped into the minute amount of space separating them, shot her hands around his neck and yanked his head down until their lips slammed together.

Holy Mother.
The heat from his fingers had been hot enough to singe, but it was an ice cube compared to the incendiary inferno of his mouth fused with hers. It briefly crossed her mind it was a miracle she didn’t burst into flames on the spot.

As stupefied as she was by what she’d done, she was able to glean a few pertinent details.

One, Rick’s jacket fell from her shoulders when she grabbed him, plunking down on the ground behind her.

Two, her shoulders and arms may have been bare once again, but the volcano of heat seeping from Rick’s body inoculated her against the cold air.

Three, the man’s body was as hard as it appeared to be. Pressed up against him without a whisper of space between their bodies, protected only by their clothes, every solid inch of muscle and sinew molded to her.

And four, but certainly not least, after a brief still moment, Rick was kissing her back.

Oh, mama, was he.

During all those late nights of studying when her eyes were starting to bleed with fatigue she’d close them and bring his face to mind, his lips were often the feature she dwelled on the most. Thick and smooth, she’d fantasized what they’d feel like against her own. Would they be soft and seductive? Hard and masterful? Taut and teasing?

Nothing she’d conjured in her lusty and frustrated imagination compared to the reality of Rick Bannerman’s mouth on hers. As smart as she was and as adept at language and words, she couldn’t think of one adequate way to describe how utterly delicious and amazing he tasted.

Her entire body relaxed when his hands slipped around her waist and pulled her flat up against him. The low slung back on the bridesmaid’s dress ended right above the dip in her spine. Rick’s hands rested on the space between her naked flesh and the silk material, one finger slipping below it to rest along the top of her hipbone. Lazily, he rubbed it back and forth across her skin.

Every nerve fiber south of his touch fired. The same wobbling sensation from earlier in the evening flowed through her again and her hands tightened around his neck for fear she’d fall.

He freed a hand from her back and dragged his knuckles across her cheek, then took her chin between his fingers and lifted her jaw, changing the angle of the kiss and giving him full access to every part of her mouth.

Every part.

Their tongues danced and twined, mated as if they’d done it every day of their lives. A strange sense of familiarity poured through her.

She’d been right during those imaginary make-out sessions she’d had with him. Rich Bannerman was a man who knew what to do with a woman.

No doubt about it.

The hand at her waist slid lower, down across her dress, to cup her butt and pull her in even closer. And she was proven right once again: he was hard.

All over.

A cavernous, low, primal growl pushed from deep within him as his hips swayed against hers. The butterflies flitting about within her moments before sprang free, pushed out by the firestorm running rampant through her insides. Abby knew—knew without a doubt—she wanted this man more than she had any other; that she would never want a man as much as she did Rick Bannerman.

There simply was no other man.

As the stunning realization of that thought hit home, Rick broke the kiss, tearing his lips from hers so forcefully, a sucking sound whooshed through the air when they separated. Rick pushed her away and held her at arms’ length. If the frown hugging his forehead was any indication, he was confused about what had just happened.

And unhappy.

Maybe even a little angry.

“Abigail.” His voice was rough and harsh in the still, quiet surrounding them and was tinged with…something. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Yes I do. “ She winced.

Jesus. Hard-up much, Abby?

Rick shook his head, his hands softening their grip on her arms.

“No, really,” she said. “I do. I’ve… I…I thought…”

“Whatever you thought, forget it.”

Hurt slammed up against mortification and anger.

The anger won.

“Why? If I’m not mistaken you were pretty into it a second ago. It was your tongue sliding down my throat, wasn’t it?”

The frown deepened into a scowl.

Rick dropped his hands and took a step back.

“Yeah. About that.” He shoved his hands into his pockets again. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why the hell not?”

His eyes darkened, those sexy lids pulling tight at the corners. “It shouldn’t have. That’s all.”

“You say one thing, Bannerman but your body says another.” Abby shook her head and took a step closer to him, the champagne definitely giving her the courage she needed.

Rick took two back.

Now the hurt rammed to the front of the line.

“Yeah, well, when a beautiful woman throws herself into a guy’s arms and presses every inch of herself against him, his body will react. Pure and simple. “

And now the mortification blew forward.

Apparently, her good sense had taken a vacation day, because instead of listening to it as it screamed for her to retreat with the little dignity she still possessed, Abby continued on.

“I thought you liked me.”

“I do.” His head bobbled up and down. “I do. You’re a great…kid.”

“Kid?” She sucked in a breath and threw her shoulders back. “Okay, I’m gonna let that comment slide.” Hands on her hips, she nailed him with a piercing glare. “Why the brush off, Bannerman? I’ve been dropping hints left and right since we met about getting to know you better. You’ve ignored every one of them until a moment ago.”

Another step closer made him retreat again. This time his hip bumped up against the railing.

“I’m not repulsive,” she said, cocking her head at him. “Am I?’

“No. You’re not. You know exactly what you look like, Abigail.”

She nodded, her eyes trained on him. “I don’t have bad breath, or body odor, or some fatal flesh eating disease.”

A small, nervous laugh barked through his lips. “No. You don’t.”

“So why the brick wall? I like you. You like me. We’re both more than adults. Both uninvolved—you aren’t involved with anyone, right?”

He hesitated a bit before shaking his head and saying, “No.”

Relief flowed through her. “I know you’re attracted to me,” she said with a smidgeon more certainty than she actually felt. “You did kiss me back, after all. I don’t see a problem here.” The moment she said it another idea formed, took hold, and rooted.

“Wait. You’re straight, right? You flirt with everything with a vagina, so I figured…you don’t give off a gay vibe and I’m usually really attuned to guys who are. You’re not, are you?”

Again, he waited a bit before saying, “No, Abigail. I’m not gay.”

Before she could utter another word, Rick beat her to it. “Look, everything you’ve said it true. I do like you, and yes, I’m attracted to you. What red-blooded guy with a pulse wouldn’t be? You’re gorgeous and smart and—Christ.” He shook his head a few times.

She couldn’t help it: a huge smile pulled at her lips.

“But we’re not gonna do this.”

“Why not?” Good Lord, did that whine come from her?

“We’re just not,” he said, voice firm and resolute. “We’ll chalk this whole scene up to getting a little carried away with flirting and fueled by too much to drink. You probably won’t even remember much of it in the morning—”

“Yes I will.”

The heat rising up her neck and face now competed with the chill sluicing down her body. She folded her arms across her chest, hugging her upper body against the night air.

Rick shook his head again and dropped his chin. Night had decided to descend so she couldn’t see his face clearly. Was he trying to stifle a smile?

When he lifted his head a moment later, though, his features were blank.

“Go inside, Abigal. Have a slice of wedding cake, a cup of coffee. Get warm. Forget this happened.”

She should listen to him, she really should. But for whatever reason, her brain wasn’t receiving the memo.

“I could warm up right here,” she said, dropping her voice a level and hoping she sounded seductive and not like she was choking on something. “If you’d put your arms around me again.”

This time when she stepped closer, Rick purposefully shot out of her way. He sidestepped around her, stooped, grabbed his tuxedo jacket from where it’d fallen from her shoulders and slid it back on.

“You know what?” He stepped backward. “I’ll go in. I could use a cup of coffee, myself. You stay out here all you want.”

In the time it took her to register he was running away from her, he was gone, back through the ballroom doors and lost in the wedding guest throng.

Abby fisted her hands on her hips again and blew out a breath heated with frustration.

That had so not gone as planned.

I hope you’re intrigued.  POB has been contracted and when I have new details I’ll release them. In the mean time, you can see my vision for Abby and Rick on my Pinterest page: RICK AND ABBY   

~Peg

And if you’re ever looking for me, I’m here:

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A visit with #Author Jean M. Grant

 


My Wild Rose sistah, Jean M. Grant, has a new book being born into the novel reading world today and she graciously accepted my invitation to visit and tell us a little about it. She decided to share a  wealth of fun facts about one of the major aspects of her book, Yellowstone National Park. Let’s give Jean the floor….

Thanks, Peggy. This is where the scientist in me (I have degrees in Biology, Marine Science, and Microbiology) comes out! Yellowstone is a scientist’s Disneyworld.

How about a few Fun Facts about Yellowstone National Park?

  1. It became the first National Park in 1872.
  2. Yellowstone is a hydrothermal wonderland with over 10,000 hydrothermal features: geysers, hot springs, mudpots, steam vents, and over 500 geysers.
  3. The park is the size of Delaware and Rhode Island combined, covering 2.2 million acres.
  4. Yellowstone is a supervolcano. Two massive magma bodies bubble beneath the park.
  5. A supervolcano refers to a volcano capable of eruption of 240 cubic miles of magma (yes, that’s miles!).
  6. The park is not all geology wonderland…there are hundreds of unique bird, fish, and mammal species in this gem in northwest Wyoming. Some signatures: bears (black and brown/Grizzly), bison, and wolves. Because of extensive programs, endangered species now flourish in the park.
  7. Over 5 million people visit the park annually.
  8. Old Faithful has been very faithful, erupting approximately every 90 minutes.
  9. Sadly, human trash and pollution has caused many of the vibrant hot pools to lose their color over the years. However, Yellowstone has created innovated programs to manage waste and human impact.
  10. Yellowstone has had 3 [2 of them being “supervolcanic”] caldera-forming eruptions over the past 3 million years (2.1 million, 1.3 million, and 640,000 years ago, respectively). Will it erupt again? Yes. Soon, like tomorrow? Not likely. The last eruption: 174,000 years ago, with 60 smaller ones since.
  11. The VEI scale measures explosivity of volcanoes and runs from 0 to 8.
  12. Be safe and read danger signs! To date over 92 people have died in the park, mostly from falling into burning hot springs, off ledges, or tempting fate with a bison.

*****Where can you learn more? I have piles of geology, volcano, and Yellowstone books at home, but the USGS and Yellowstone National Park websites are great places to get accurate facts. Happy digging, my aspiring geologists!

(Peggy here: Yellowstone is definitely a bucket list place for me to visit, and now, after reading your facts, more than ever!)

Will Rise from Ashes by Jean M. Grant

 

Living is more than mere survival.

Young widow AJ Sinclair has persevered through much heartache. Has she met her match when the Yellowstone supervolcano erupts, leaving her separated from her youngest son and her brother? Tens of thousands are dead or missing in a swath of massive destruction. She and her nine-year-old autistic son, Will, embark on a risky road trip from Maine to the epicenter to find her family. She can’t lose another loved one.

Along the way, they meet Reid Gregory, who travels his own road to perdition looking for his sister. Drawn together by AJ’s fear of driving and Reid’s military and local expertise, their journey to Colorado is fraught with the chaotic aftermath of the eruption. AJ’s anxiety and faith in humanity are put to the test as she heals her past, accepts her family’s present, and embraces uncertainty as Will and Reid show her a world she had almost forgotten.

 Excerpt:

Even from far away, I recognized the man’s plaid long-sleeved shirt and the large backpack, but now he was walking alongside a bike on his approach.

“Hey, look! It’s that guy you drove past this morning!”

I shuddered inwardly. Well, karma just bit me in the butt.

“How did he catch up with us?” Motherly instinct took over as I rose, my legs wobbly. “Will, stay there. Here, take this,” I said, handing him the tire iron.

“We already tried that, Mom.”

“Not for that, Will.”

He scratched his brown hair, which was overdue for a cut, and looked at me, confusion wrinkling his brow.

“Be my wizard, Will. It’s your sword.”

“Wizards have wands.”

“Will…”

The circuit connected. “Oh…yes, Mom, I’ll protect you!”

I smiled faintly. “Thank you, honey.” I didn’t want to explain further that it was me protecting him. I didn’t want to say that if something happened, to run and hide in the woods. Because he would run and hide. Then what? Who would come help?

I shoved my hand into my front jeans pocket to nestle my fingertips around the pocket knife I had given Harrison for our wedding anniversary. The man slowed his bicycle as he drew nearer. He gave me an understated, yet significant, nod. The nod of understanding, of kindness. I didn’t buy it.

“Hello, again,” he said.

Ouch.

You can purchase your copy here:

Amazon ~ Barnes and Noble ~ iTunes 

A little about Jean…..

Jean’s background is in science and she draws from her interests in history, nature, and her family for inspiration. She writes historical and contemporary romances and women’s fiction. She also writes articles for family-oriented travel magazines. When she’s not writing or chasing children, she enjoys tending to her flower gardens, hiking, and doing just about anything in the outdoors.

You can connect with, and follow Jean, here…

Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Goodreads ~ Bookbub ~ Amazon Author Page ~ The Wild Rose Press

Feel free to follow me on my BLOG TOUR, April 18-June 6. Don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

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