Tag Archives: #SundayBlogs

#SundaySnippet – When #fakedating is acceptable…

So tomorrow my book CHANCE ( LAST MAN STANDING #12) releases into the book reading world and I figured I’d give you one more chance ( see what I did there! LOL) to determine if you’d like to read the entire book.

Today’s snippet goes to the heart of the #fakedating premise of the book between Freddie and Chance.

Enjoy…

When he laid it all out she had to admit, the idea was pretty out there.

“I know it’s a last-minute request and I totally understand if you don’t want to say yes. But I really want you to say yes.”

“I don’t know,” she said, biting down on a corner of her lip. “It’s kind of…deceitful, isn’t it?”

“In a way. But for the best of reasons. If they think I’m dating someone they’ll be happy for me and I’ll have the added benefit of them getting off their hook-me-up endeavors for a while. And believe me, I could use a break from that. There’s nothing worse than a grown man being set up by a bunch of elderly women with good intentions.”

“No, I don’t imagine there is.” She laughed.

“It’s only for one night,” he added. “Just to get through this party. There’s nothing else planned until my Aunt Theresa’s birthday in July and by then I’ll have figured something out to get them off my backs permanently.”

“That’s only three months away, you know.”

“Yeah, but I’m looking at it as three months reprieve where I won’t be harassed with dating matchups.”

“Have you ever simply thought to tell them your views on marriage? Marriage for you, in particular?”

“The cousins—their kids—yes. But they’re all married, too. I’ve never said outright to the aunts that I don’t want to get married. I’m afraid a few of them would have heart attacks or start invoking my mother’s name as a way to ward off whatever bedevilment they think has possessed me. Their definition of a happy life is a happy wife and kids for every man they know. It’s their…generation’s, I guess, way of thinking.”

Freddie nodded. “My mother’s a little younger than your aunts, I think, but she feels the same way.”

She sat back and stared at him for a moment.

“Say I say yes—”

“Please do.”

She rolled her eyes. “Say I agree to go with you as your, what? Fake girlfriend?”

He nodded.

“What are you gonna tell them about me? About how we met?”

“The truth is always the best way to avoid issues,” he said. “You own and manage the coffee bar in my office building. We met and hit if off, decided to date.”

“What happens if they ask if I’ve ever been married? If I have any kids?”

“Tell them whatever you’re comfortable with. You don’t need to lie—”

“Good, since we’ll already be lying about our relationship.”

He frowned. “I guess I don’t consider it lying as much as I think of it as a way to keep the aunts out of my hair for a bit.”

She nodded. “What would you expect me to do?”

He shrugged. “Whatever girlfriends do when they meet their boyfriend’s relatives.” He raked his hands down his face, then readjusted his glasses. “And I can’t believe I’m describing myself that way at my age.”

“You’ve got a few years left in you,” she said with a grin.

Intrigued? I hope so!!! Peg

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#SundaySnippet THE SHERIFF & THE PSYCHIC #PNR #westernromance #secondchances

This little gem released this month to some wonderful reviews. My heart is so full!!!! Here’s a little snippet for your Sunday reading delight:

Cal led her around the outer perimeter of the barn, towards the back parking lot. Once he was certain they were away from prying eyes and ears, he stopped.

Turning to Silvestra, he saw the golden glow of the moon reflected over her head and wondered, for just second, if she could possibly be real.

“You’re beautiful in moonlight, Silvestra. But then, I’ve found you’re beautiful at any time.”

His hands found their way to her upper arms, gently pulling her towards him. “I’ve been dreaming about doing this since the last time we were together.”

Amber eyes widened just a fraction when he brought his head down. Her face lifted to his, a look of open anticipation dancing across it.

With a swiftness born of desperation and cutting need, Cal’s mouth claimed hers.

When her lips parted on a sigh, Cal needed no further invitation. A swift snap of his tongue and he was inside her mouth, probing, exploring. She tasted sweet and full of spice, and so very alive. His heart pounded against his chest, nearly exploding with excitement. The two brief kisses they’d shared were mild temptations, when, once taken, could no longer be ignored.

Silvestra’s mouth moved under his and Cal groaned with need. One hand cupped the nape of her neck as he bent her back across his arm, deepening the kiss. The gasp he heard escape from her thrilled him, spurred him on.

His other hand slinked down her neck, past her shoulders, to rest in the hollow below her breast. Resting his palm against the gentle swell, his thumb flicked across the center. He was rewarded with the nipple instantly beneath the fabric of her dress.

Silvestra arched against him, molding to his form as small mews of pleasure rose from her throat.

Cal’s mouth began a slow descent from her lips, down her neck. When he nipped at the fleshy part of her earlobe, he smiled in delight as she fisted her fingers into his hair, yanking his head further in its exploration.

Silvestra wanted him, of that he was certain. Her body wouldn’t respond this way if she didn’t. But would she respond to that wanting? Or would she be shattered with guilt, tormented by her need? A husband, waiting at home. A son, too.

Cal tried to banish the thoughts. For the moment, for this one special moment, she was his, not another’s.

A wonderful warmth stretched within him; a sensation of rightness followed it.

Intrigued? LOL You can read it on Kindle, in KU, and paperback, here: THE SHERIFF & THE PSYCHIC

Happy Sunday and happy reading, peeps ~ Peg

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#sundaySnippet 12.20.2020

 

 

The following is a little scene from the book I’m currently penning, A PRIDE OF BROTHERS: AIDEN ( book 2 in the series.) Our hero is Private Investigator Aiden Keane, our heroine Lexi Buckley, Ph.D This scene is in chapter 1 when they are seated next to one another on a place bound for NYC. This is how I picture them in my mind when I am writing them…

 

“Have you been away long?”

“Too long.”

Before she could ask why, the overhead announcements started. Because she knew knowledge was the key to everything, Lexi gave all her attention to the flight attendants as they went through the safety precautions, even though she had them memorized.

Trying to be covert about it, she snaked her hand under the seat when told the cushion could be used as a floatation device during a water landing, just to make sure it was there and at the ready. She pulled the inflight instructions card from the pouch in front of her when it was referred to, and she made special notice of how close to the other exit doors she was when it was suggested.

“You’ve flown before, right?” Aiden asked when the crew finished.

“Many times.” She turned and found the ghost of a grin tripping across his mouth.

“Do you always listen so intently to the safety speech?”

“Of course. Don’t you?”

He shook his head. “The narrative never changes. I could repeat it in my sleep.”

She could too, but it still didn’t prevent her from listening.

One of the flight attendants who’d been walking down the aisle assuring the overhead compartments were closed, stopped at their row.

“Hi,” she said. It didn’t get passed Lexi the smile broadened when she lit on Aiden. “You two are seated next to the emergency exit door and I just want to make sure you know what to do in the event we need to access the door.”

She prattled on with the expectations, then asked, “Are you comfortable assuming that responsibility?”

Lexi said yes immediately.

“Thank you, and enjoy your flight.”

The last part was directed at her seatmate before she turned to the couple across the aisle and started her spiel again.

Aiden’s smile stayed in place when he turned back to her. With an eyebrow raised, he said, “I get the feeling you requested this seat.”

“I did.”

“Should I be worried?”

It took her a moment to see past the humor lacing his words to the steely caution in his eyes.

“No, no. God, no. It’s not that.”

The other eyebrow joined its mate. “Then…?”

Lexi swallowed and felt like she’d been pulled into the principal’s office to explain an adolescent prank.

“Research shows the safest place to be in the event of”—she lowered her voice and shifted closer to him so her words wouldn’t carry—“an emergency, is sitting by this door. I can stay calm in an emergency so I figured I’d rather leave my chances of surviving something up to me than to a total stranger who might crack under pressure.”

He stared at her a few beats and she’d give the last chocolate candy she had in her secret stash at the library to know what he was thinking.

Then, he leaned in closer as she had to him and her gaze dropped to his mouth when he asked, “Do you always like to be in control?”

For the first time in her adult life, Lexi couldn’t speak. All the statistics she had running rampant in her brain about the psychological impacts of OCD and control issues stayed locked inside her. Her mouth fell open but nothing came out. When Aiden’s gaze flicked down to her parted lips, lingered for a moment, then dragged back up in time for her to catch his pupils dilate, she slammed her mouth shut and took a deep breath.

The thought he was flirting with her drifted into her mind but was quickly shooed away. Men didn’t flirt with Alexis Buckley. She wasn’t the sister who garnered male attention, Zoe was. This man was asking because he assumed she had some nefarious reason for wanting the emergency seat. In this day and age, who could blame him? Crazies came in all shapes and forms. And genders.

Lexi took another breath and then called forth her most professional voice, the one she used with recalcitrant students, annoying adults, and anyone who needed a firm hand.

“I’ve found,” she said, happy her voice was controlled and modulated, just the way she liked it, “that’s is easier, and best, to rely on myself when situations arise that call for some kind of action. If that’s what you mean by being in control, then, yes.”

She met his appraising stare with calm and cool eyes and hoped that would be the end of it.

“Good to know,” he said, just as the captain came over the loud speaker.

*** It needs a little work, but the dynamics are coming together.

Enjoy your Holidays, peeps ~ peg

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#sundaySnippet 12.13.2020

Since this was release week for BAKED WITH LOVE, I decided to put one more snippet up about it. Here, we get a glimpse of just how close the sisters are to one another, and how much they know about each other. I love this scene because I can just SEE sisters talking like this. ( it’s told, BTW, from Maureen’s POV)

 

“Here’s your wedding album,” I said, holding it up.

“Let me see.”
I handed it to her, and she started flipping through the pages.
“We were so stinkin’ young, and I was so stupid,” she said after a few minutes.

“It still boggles my mind Mom and Daddy didn’t try to talk me out of getting married at barely eighteen.”

“You weren’t stupid.” Colleen reached out and rubbed Cathy’s arm. “Young, yes, but you’d known Danny practically since birth. Everyone who knew the two of you knew you were going to get married someday. And we all loved Danny. He was perfect for you.”

“Not everyone,” I said, flipping through another album. “Eileen didn’t like Dan and never had, even when we were little.”

“What! Why not?” Cathy asked.

I put the album down and took another out of the container. “You know Eileen. She was a natural bullshit detector. Inherited the trait from Nanny.”

“Truth,” Colleen said, then sipped her tea.

“She told me she didn’t think Danny was the wonderful guy he seemed and he wasn’t being totally truthful, maybe even lying to you about something. She never told me what it was, but she believed it right up until he died.”

“How come you never told me this?”

“Why would I? From the outside, you two appeared happy, and you never gave any indication you weren’t. Neither Coll nor I knew anything to the contrary until you confessed what had been going on in your marriage.”

“Eileen was always a little fey, as Nanny would call it,” Colleen said. “Sensitive to what was going on around her.” She flipped through the album in her hand.

I nodded.

“Hey, found your picture,” Colleen said a moment later. “Good gravy, I forgot all about Lucas’s hideous tuxedo.”

“Let’s see.” Cathy stretched out her hand for the book.

There were about a half dozen pictures of Cathy and Danny, then a few of Lucas, taken in the same living room we were all currently sprawled in.

Cathy laughed as she flipped a page and found a photo of Lucas and Eileen and me. He was dressed to attend prom, that dumb tuxedo shining back from the camera flash, while we were in our pajamas.

“I remember when this was taken. Eileen dragged you down the staircase screaming she wanted a picture of the three of you. What were you guys, ten?”

“Nine,” Colleen said.

Lucas had picked us up and settled us each on a hip. Eileen was smiling like she’d just won the lottery, while I was staring at Lucas.

“She loved him so much,” Cathy said, a mote of wistfulness in her voice. “Followed him around every time he was here, wanting to sit in his lap, show him some new gymnastics move she’d learned in class.”

“He was always so patient with her, too,” Colleen said. “With the two of you, really. He never got annoyed about all the oxygen Eileen sucked out of a room whenever she was in one.”

“Lucas never got annoyed at anything,” I said, staring at the picture. “Still doesn’t.”

Cathy peered over the album at me, her head at an angle and a question in her eyes.

“Eileen wasn’t the only twin who thought Lucas hung the moon,” she said, pointedly.

When I didn’t respond to her baited statement, she held the album up. “Look at this picture.”

I did. “Okay. So?”

“You’re the only one not staring at the camera. All your attention is focused on Lucas, like you can’t take your eyes off him.”

“In these pictures, too,” Colleen said, flipping through Cathy’s wedding and graduation album. “There isn’t one time you’re not staring at him.”

I’d never noticed it before, but they were right. We’d had hundreds of pictures taken over the years before camera phones became a thing, and in almost every one where Lucas was present while I was, I was looking at him.

“And now he looks at you whenever you’re in a room together,” Cathy said with a smug smirk gliding across her mouth.

I rolled my eyes and took a sip from my teacup.

“She’s not wrong,” Colleen added.

I shrugged and flipped through the album in my hands.

“I find it interesting she isn’t arguing with us on this,” Cathy said to Colleen.

“Hmm. Makes you wonder why not.”

“Oh, I know why she isn’t. You do, too. I just wonder if she realizes we know.”

I tossed the album down onto the cocktail table and stared at both of them. “You know, that crap didn’t work when I was a kid. It certainly isn’t going to now.”

Intrigued? I hope so. If so, here’s where you can get your copy: BWL

 

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#sundaySnippet 12.6.2020

Since BAKED WITH LOVE releases in 3 more days ( YAY!!!!) I thought today’s snippet should be from the book to whet your bookreading appetites.

In this little snippet, Maureen and Lucas are discussing Lucas’s teenaged son’s first day of working at Inn Heaven – Maureen’s B&B. We get a little glimpse of Lucas’s feelings for Maureen – as does she – and for the first time see that he thinks more of her than just as a friend.

Lucas nodded. “He seems pretty stoked about working, something I’m surprised about. Glad, for sure, but surprised. I figured…” He shrugged.

“I know. I thought a fifteen-year-old boy would rather be any place than in a kitchen every day, but he actually asked to work most days during the week and on weekends for the weddings. We’ll see how long this enthusiasm lasts.” I grinned up at him while I towel- dried a mug.

“I don’t know, Mo. If it was me, I wouldn’t mind being stuck in a kitchen every day—”

“That’s because you’re always hungry.”

“—if it was with you.”

My hand stopped rubbing the porcelain. Okay, what?

I’m usually fairly adept at not showing my feelings or have what’s running through my mind cross my face. Nanny has commented many times over the years I’m the person she least likes playing poker with because she can’t read me. The ability to hide my true feelings has gotten me through some testy times with my parents, a bad breakup with a verbally abusive boyfriend, and my twin’s illness then death. Plus, for as many times as we’d been together over the years, Lucas had never once guessed how I truly felt about him.

Right now, though, I was finding it next to impossible to school my features and body into its usual calm nonchalance. I can only imagine how I must have appeared to him, standing there with the towel thrust into the mug, my hand paralyzed—my body as well— as I stared up at him, silent.

“What’s wrong?” He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward me, his brows grooving toward the middle of his forehead. “Maureen?”

I blinked a few times when his hand snaked around my upper arm. A soothing, comforting warmth seeped through me from his touch. I wanted to move in closer, melt into his arms, and snuggle into all his heat. When I found myself shifting so I could, I took a step backward, mentally and physically. Lucas didn’t drop his hold but kept his hand on my arm, his other one following suit.

“Nothing. Sorry. I’m fine.” I shook my head a few times and planted what I hoped looked like a self- deprecating grin on my face.

“I lost you there for a second.” His gaze swept across my face, searching, silently questioning.

“Sorry. I’ve got a lot going on up here.” I pointed a finger at my head. “Thinking fifteen steps ahead about what needs to be done around this place.”

He waited a beat, those intelligent, intense eyes never wavering from my own. “Why don’t I believe that’s all it is?”

It was no wonder he was such a good lawman. With his gaze zeroed in on me, piercing and probing, and his voice low, deep, and commanding, almost seductively sly in its cadence, I imagined people who’d broken the law were no match for him when it came to his garnering confessions.

I pulled a Colleen-worthy eye roll. “Because you’re a cop and you’re naturally suspicious. It’s ground into your DNA. Like the green in your eyes.”

One eyebrow quirked high up on his forehead. “The green in my eyes?”

His mouth stayed perfectly straight, but I got the distinct impression he was laughing at me.

“It’s true. Your eyes are green, and you’re naturally nosy.”

His inspection grew more intense as he dipped his chin and glared at me. The heat in his stare shot straight down to my core and exploded.

I’m pretty sure I shuddered.

Lucas’s fingers kneaded my arms. Every nerve ending in my body stood straight up, like I’d walked across a rug in the dead of winter and then touched something metal, sparking an electric shock. I licked lips that had suddenly gone desert-dry.

His gaze took a slow stroll down to my mouth and lingered. Enough so those butterflies finally made a break for freedom. Without any will to prevent it, my mouth fell open and I dragged in about a quart of air, my shoulders lifting, then dropping with the effort. I lost the grip on the mug and when it slipped out of my hand, Lucas let go of my arms as we both reached for it at the same time.

My reflexes are quick. Lucas’s are like lightning.

Both our hands went around the cup at the same time, but in moving for it, Lucas had to bend from his substantial height. When he did, our heads connected and a resounding thwack echoed around us.

Ow.” I let the mug go free into his hand and palmed the spot of contact on my forehead. “Your skull’s made of cement.”

Lucas placed the mug on the counter, then tugged my hand off my head.

I swatted him away. It was like slicing air because it had no effect on halting him from touching me.

“Let me see. Stop squirming.” He cupped my chin to hold me in place.

In all honesty, I’d gone statue-still again the moment his hand curled around my jaw. I knew Lucas’s fingers were strong, an effect of being a life-long shooter. Thick-skinned, coarse, and powerful, his grip was surprising gentle though, as he held my face in one hand and pressed against the throbbing notch on my forehead with the other.

“You’re gonna have a goose egg.”

“And whose fault is that?” I mumbled.

“Better get some ice on it, fast.”

This time when I glanced up at him, he was attempting—and failing—to hide a grin.

Through narrowed eyes, I said, “Thanks for the advice. Mind letting go of me so I can?”

Lucas glanced at the hand wrapped around my chin, frowned, then drew his attention back up to meet my eyes.

Calling them green hadn’t done them a bit of justice. There are so many variations of the simple color, and none of them applied to Lucas.

They weren’t the bright green of a shamrock or the metallic sheen of jade. Neither were they pale like sage nor brilliant like winking emeralds. The purest and most accurate way to describe them was they mimicked the color of fresh moss at midnight: deep and dark with shards of yellow in the mix reflected in moonlight. Long lashed with a tiny tilt at the corners and subtle lines fanning out to his temples, Lucas’s eyes had always been captivating to me. Right now, with his hand holding my chin, and his body so close I could detect the brand of soap he’d used in the shower, they were mesmerizing.

The air between us changed in a finger snap. Energized. Ignited.

Something in Lucas changed, as well. His shoulders were drawn up almost to his ears, and his breathing went a little deeper, a little louder as we stood there. The groove between his eyebrows folded inward even more than it usually did. When his tongue flicked out and crossed over his bottom lip like mine had a few moments ago, I bit down on the need to press my own mouth to his.

I may have moaned.

The swift inhale Lucas took convinced me he’d heard the sound and recognized it for the naked desire it was. The hand at my chin tensed and drew me in closer. So close, I could count every hair of the afternoon stubble shading his etched cheeks and strong jaw.

An insane urge to run my tongue along the length of that shadow hopscotched through me. I might have succumbed to the impulse if Robert’s voice hadn’t spilt into the room.

“Dad?” We both blinked at the sound.
 “What’s going on?”

“Maureen dropped a cup,” Lucas told him after a moment, his attention never wavering from me. His voice was thick and low. “We bumped heads when we went to get it. Grab some ice from the freezer, would ya, son?”

Intrigued? You can preorder your copy here and have it when it releases on 12.9.2020 :BWL

And, if you’d like a PRINT version of the book, My website store is selling them for only $10.00 Waaaay below every retailer – including Amazon. You can order a copy here: BWL 

And…….if you’d like to get an autographed print copy for free, you can enter to win 1 0f 3 copies in my Goodreads Giveaway, here: GRG

So many ways to read!!!

Happy Sunday, peeps ~ Peg

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#SundaySnippet – a little something from the new anthology SWEET SENTIMENT

Yesterday I posted about the new anthologies that Wild Rose Press have put out, pairing two or more ONE SCOOP OR TWO BOOKS into print versions. My OSOT story, Vanilla with a Twist was paired with another book by author Amey Zeigler in an anthology titled SWEET SENTIMENT.

It seemed fitting today, then, that I put up a little snippet from my addition!

Here’s the blurb so you know what my book is about:

Tandy Blakemore spends her days running her New England ice cream parlor, single-parenting her teenaged son, and trying to keep her head above financial water. No easy feat when the shop’s machinery is aging and her son is thinking about college. Tandy hasn’t had a day off in a decade and wonders if she’ll ever be able to live a worry-free life.

Engineer Deacon Withers is on an enforced vacation in the tiny seaside town of Beacher’s Cove. Overworked, stressed, and lonely, he walks into Tandy’s shop for a midday ice cream cone and gets embroiled in helping her fix a broken piece of equipment.

Can the budding friendship that follows help fix their broken spirits and lead to love?

In this scene, Tandy and Deacon are sharing a meal and getting to know one another….

“Proprietary is my middle name.”

He laughed. “Mine’s Basil.”

She tilted her head. “Your initials are D.B.W, like in dubyuh?”

His wince was as charming as his smile. “I know, pretty awful, right? In school, I was called D.B., which is even worse.”

“What do you like to be called? Deacon? Deke?”

“Deacon’s fine. Is Tandy short for anything?”

“Nope. It’s actually a mistake.”

“How so?”

“The nurse at the hospital who filled out my birth forms had a bit of a hearing problem.” She rolled her eyes at the story her brothers loved teasing her with.

“My mother wanted to name me Sandra after her own mother, and then call me Sandy to distinguish the two of us. The nurse heard it as ‘Tandy’ and recorded it as such. My father found it hysterical, so the name stuck. It’s kind of unusual, so…” She lifted a hand in a there- you-go gesture.

He flicked her a lopsided grin again. “It is, but lovely, too.”

Heat flew up her neck and sprinted to her cheeks.

“One of my partners says he doesn’t care what you call him, but don’t ever call him late for lunch.” He shook his head and forked in a chunk of his lobster. When, a half second later, he sat back and closed his eyes, a tiny moan blowing through his lips, she knew he was having a moment.

“Good God, this is even better than advertised.”

“Yup,” she said.
Deacon opened his eyes again and focused on her face.

“This is another of those recipes Ricky refuses to share,” she told him.

“That’s too bad, because this”—he lifted his filled fork—“is something I’d love to reproduce when I’m back home.”

“Where’s home? I don’t mean to be nosy, but you sound like you’re from the East Coast, only…not.”

“You’re not being nosy. We’re sitting, enjoying a meal, and getting to know one another.” He took a sip from his own water bottle as his gaze held hers. “I grew up in Rhode Island, but for the past fifteen years, I’ve lived in New York. Manhattan.”

“I’ve never been.”

“To the city?”

She shrugged and popped in another knot. “To New York.”

His eyebrows rose again.

“I’m the poster child for small-town girl. Born, bred, lives, and will die here. I’ve only been out of New Hampshire once, in middle school, for an all-states band contest.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Boston.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “Not exactly international travel.”

“Nope. Took a school bus. Competed. Lost. Came home. Didn’t even have time for any sightseeing.”

“Now, that’s a shame. Boston’s a great town. I have an off-site office there, and I usually go up once a week on business.”

“What do you do? If I had to guess, I’d think something in”—she tilted her head again as she regarded him—“finance. You look…I don’t know.” A quick lift of her shoulder and then she said, “Successful.”

His laugh was swift, open, and free, and she felt it all the way to her toes.

“You make it sound like a curse.”

“I don’t mean to, sorry. It’s been…a while since I’ve been able to sit and chat. Running the shop is a twenty-four-seven life in the summer months, and it doesn’t give me time for other things. Like making small talk.” She glanced out at the water.

He was quiet for a moment, studying her, while she tried to hide the heat slipping up her neck again from her confession by dipping her chin.

“I can understand that. My business occupies my life twenty-four-seven, too.”

“And yet you’re here, on vacation, so you’re able to take some time away from it.”

This time his laugh held a darker, strained note.

He shook his head and dropped his gaze to the water bottle in his hands. “This isn’t exactly a vacation,” he told her. “Not in the true sense.”

“A vacation’s a vacation in my book.”

“In mine, too. Usually. But I didn’t plan to take these three weeks away. I was, well, the best word is coerced.”

Intrigued? You can purchase the ecopy here: VWAT

Or you can purchase the print version thru WRP here: Sweet Sentiments

Or you can FACEBOOK Message me for a reduced rate print copy here: Peggy Jaeger, Author

And remember: books make great holiday gifts!! just sayin’

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#sundaySnippet 10.18.2020

If you follow this blog you could have seen today’s book snippet from a mile away!!!

I just released MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA on 10.14, so of course today’s snippet it going to be from that!! Hee hee. Hey! I know what I’m doing…most of the time!

“Tomorrow you go solo,” I said, jumping out of the van. “Now that you’ve met all the regulars and they’re okay with you, I can stay back here and do my job.”

“I told you, Donna, people love to talk to me. And old folks adore me.”

“That’s the truth, if nothing else.” He handed me the van keys. “When we were kids all the old nonne in the neighborhood fawned over you, my own included.” Shaking my head I started to walk back inside but Tony shot out his hand and grabbed my arm.

“What?” The heat from his grip felt like I’d stepped into a natural hot spring on a cold, winter’s day. Instantly, my body warmed inside and out. How the heck could one simple touch do that?

“I wanted to say thanks,” he said, not letting go of me.

“For?”

“Showing me the ropes.” He took a step closer, still keeping me imprisoned in his grip. “I know you’re super busy with the reopen, but it means a lot you took time to get me up to speed. And I also want you to know how much I appreciate what you and your dad are doing by letting me be here. It can’t be easy on either of you, but you’ve both been nothing but kind and accepting, so thank you.”

Kind to old people, ridiculously good looking, and now a heartfelt and sincere thank you for something my father felt compelled to do. Was it any wonder I lost all brain function around this guy? He ticked off so many boxes on my what-I’d-like-in-a-man list it was scary. That I could picture what it would be like to be with him on a purely personal level and not just because he was on the job, proved scary, too. I’d been head over heels stupid in love with him at seventeen. It had taken a long time to get over the hurt from his dismissal after those glorious minutes in the back of his Z8.

I knew I had to keep some emotional distance from him now because Tony Roma could inflict serious damage to my heart.

Again.

My one saving grace was that I wasn’t a seventeen-year-old girl anymore with stars in her eyes and looking for some positive attention from the cutest guy in school. I was an intelligent, grown woman who managed a thriving business and had self-confidence up the hoo-ha. In addition to knowing the man I wanted to give my heart to for forever would want and cherish it.

I had to ensure I didn’t embarrass myself and fall for Tony all over again when I knew the feelings would never be reciprocated. One broken heart in a lifetime was all I was willing to give to any man.

I took a breath, nodded, and said, “Just make sure you find out who killed Chico. Now, I’ve gotta get back to work.”

I tugged on my arm and he let me go.

Was it my imagination he had what looked like reluctance in his eyes when he did?

Intrigued? I hope so! You can get your copy, here:

And don’t forget to follow me on my Goddess Fish tour. Here are this weeks stops, beginning with tomorrow morning:

October 19: Two Ends of the Pen
October 20: Danita Minnis
October 21: Long and Short Reviews
October 22: Archaeolibrarian – I Dig Good Books!
October 23: Unabridged Andra’s

Until next time, peeps ~Peg

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A little Sexy #SundaySnippet 9.27.2020

Tomorrow I start my Goddess Fish Blog Tour for MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA, so I thought I’d whet your Holiday RomCom-reading appetite with a little sexy snippet from the book here, today. Enjoy. And consider preordering – the link is live in the above title!

After the third episode of a sitcom we’d both loved as kids, we decided to forgo a forth.

Tony shifted on the couch and stretched out next to me, slipping one arm behind my head the other palming my stomach.

“Wanna make out?” he asked, grinning, as his lips skimmed down my neck.

“How old are you, twelve?” I asked. But I have to admit I did nothing to discourage him from seducing me.

“When I was twelve I wanted to play with balls and bats. I wouldn’t have known what to do with a gorgeous woman in my arms.” He pulled my ear lobe between his lips and bit down.

“You learned pretty fast.” I might have gasped once or twice while saying it because the hand at my stomach inched up to cup a breast. He stopped under the edge of my bra the moment he touched the fabric.

He pulled up, leaving his hand in place, and asked, “What are you wearing under this? It doesn’t feel like regular bra material.”

“What’s regular bra material feel like?”

“You know. Cotton or something. What is this?” He tugged at the collar until my bra strap and cup were exposed. It was fascinating watching his face as he got a glimpse of my underwear.

“Holy shit.”

“Is that a good holy shit, or a bad one?” I was sure I knew the answer just by the way his eyes widened to the size of bocce balls and his mouth dropped open like his jaw came unhinged.

Instead of answering me right away he pulled up and dragged me with him. When we were sitting, facing one another, he gripped the hem of my sweater and looked me square in the eyes as he asked, “Can I take this off?”

The fact that he asked almost made me start crying. I mean, really, how sweet was that?

I debated whether or not to slip it off myself, but he had such a look of boyish expectation on his face, I knew half the fun for him was to do it himself, so I lifted my arms above my head.

I don’t think any item of clothing I’ve ever worn was discarded so quickly or as deftly as Margaret Rose’s gift.

“Holy shit,” Tony exclaimed again when I was sans sweater.

I repeated my previous question.

This time for an answer he skimmed the lace top edge, then slid down over the red cups, his thumbs teasing over my hardened nipples. The material covering my breasts was a red mesh and completely see through. My nipples peeped between the interwoven curlicues. A satin bra would have kept them secure and hidden behind the material.

Tony’s gaze zeroed in on those two little distended points and then he rubbed his thumbs over them again.

My back arched, jutting them forward, and I almost came on the spot when Tony licked his lips, shifted, and sucked one of them into his mouth.

“If this is what you’re wearing on top,” he said, moving to the other breast for equal time, “what have you got on under your jeans?”

I gasped and clutched his head between my hands as the tug of his lips shot straight down to my core. Between breaths I managed to say, “It’s a matching set.”

Tony shot back and stared hard at me again, hope now adding to the expectation in his eyes. I could detect a little lust mixed in as well.

“Can I see? Please?”

He truly did look like a little kid waiting to open his birthday presents, hoping and wishing he’d get exactly what he’d asked for.

“Well, since you ask so nicely.”

Intrigued? I hope so.

Hope to see you all on the tour when it starts tomorrow. Check back here then for the stops!

Until next time, peeps ~ peg

And you can follow me here: FOLLOW ME

 

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#SundaySnippet 8.30.2020

Since summer is still upon us, I thought I’d add another little something from VANILLA WITH  A TWIST today.

Tandy’s maternal by nature so when she reaches out to clean Deacon’s face, she realizes, too late, she shouldn’t touch the man because there’s nothing maternal in the emotions he stirs up in her.

“Done.” She pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, and before she thought better of it, cupped his chin intending to swipe at the grime on his face.

The moment she touched him Tandy knew she’d made a mistake. A big one.

His skin was as warm as sunshine, and the scratch of his evening stubble prickled her fingertips, the sensation vaulting though her and making her…yearn. It had been a long, long time since she’d experienced such an overwhelming sensation for a man—any man. Handsome guys on vacation came into her store every day. Sometimes with families in tow, sometimes not. A quick smile, a second glance, and a tiny show of interest on their part was something she was familiar with. But she’d never succumbed, never allowed herself to actually feel something akin to desire. The road to a quick and hot night of passion came with consequences that could last a lifetime. And she was the poster child for those potential consequences.

But now, standing in her shop after closing time, with the sun long gone and only the two of them for company, Tandy wondered what would happen if she gave in to the sensations swimming within her and centered on the man before her.

“You’ve got, um, motor oil. Here. Um, on your…face. Cheekbone.”

Goodness, it was bad enough she was babbling, but her hands held a fine tremor of visible nerves, too. He had to notice it.

Intrigued? get your copy here is you are.

Looking for me? I’m here 

Until next time, peeps ~Peg

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#SundaySnippet 8.23.2020

A little story I’m working on about lost, then found, love….

~ ~ ~ ~

When she swallowed again and her chest lifted a hair with the quick breath she hauled in ( and Jesus, was she braless?) he knew her nerves were swarming and she was stalling for time in order to think of a response.

Old habits he knew well.

“Husband?”

“Yeah. You know? Mr. Hamilton?”

“It’s doctor, actually,” she mumbled.

Of course it is. His first name’s probably Alexander.

“And we’re not married anymore.”

His heart rate quickened at the disclosure.

“How long?”

“A little less than a year.”

Curiosity compelled him to ask, “Is that why you moved back home?”

She nodded.

“What happened?”

Sage lifted the pizza to her lips, took a small bite and simultaneously shrugged. “Simple and clichéd story. We wanted different things and neither of us was prepared to compromise.”

Well, that certainly sounded familiar.

“You’re divorced, according to Corrine,” she added. “You must now how it is.”

Nodding, he took his own bite of the delicious pizza and wondered if his ex sounded as bitter when she talked about their failed marriage as Sage did. Barbara had no cause to be, but he didn’t think it would stop her from badmouthing him if given the opportunity.

“What didn’t you agree on?” he asked.

She sighed again and he did a quick eye-dip to her chest.

Yup, no bra.

“I wanted children. He didn’t. Unfortunately, I didn’t find out until we were married almost seven years.”

Nodding, he said, “You always wanted kids. Even when we were teenagers you were a born nurturer. Remember when my grandparent’s cat had kittens? You took care of the mamma and her babies for over a month. Every day before we’d start working you’d make sure mamma was comfortable in the store’s back room, had enough to eat and that the kittens were thriving.”

The smile he’d loved the very first time he’d ever seen it cross her face lit up her eyes at the memory. “I think that was when I really decided to become a doctor.”

“It’s a wonder you didn’t become a Vet with the amount of animals you took care of back then. Mrs. Barclay’s chickens, old man Paley’s dog.”

“People are easier. They can tell you where it hurts.

“Truth.” He took another bite of pizza, his gaze staying on her. “So. What did Doctor Hamilton want that you didn’t?”

When she nailed him with a look so filled with hurt and yet so swimming in anger, he knew it was something big.

“Other women.”

His hand stopped its assent to his mouth, the point of the pizza wedge dipping down toward the plate. “He cheated on you?”

“Several times. It was his favorite hobby. Most doctors play golf on their days off. Leland played the role of happy bachelor. When I found out and confronted him he told me I didn’t need to worry about any of the women. They meant nothing. It was just sex. His libido was strong and he needed…more, than I could give him. He came home to me every night and I had his name, he said. That proved he loved me and me alone. Seems we differed on the definition of the word. Another thing about us I didn’t learn until several years after we married.”

“What a dick.”

Details about the story will be available soon.. But it’s got a Holiday 2020 release, so…

Until next time, peeps ~ Peg

And if you’re looking for me, I’m usually here: Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// BookMe  //Watch me

 

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