Tag Archives: #teasemethursday

#teasemethursday….

On Sunday, 10.1.2023., the whole cover for DON’T MESS WITH THE MISTLETOE will be revealed, including the preorder link!!

For now, here’s a little teaser from the book…

Humbled was something he could truthfully say he’d never felt before. But he was. Added to it was his hyperawareness of her and the fact she’d referred to him by his Christian name. The sound of it on those perfect lips, in that voice handmade for seduction by the god of temptation, had things happening to his body he was worried she’d notice. Things, specifically, south of his belt.

He didn’t want to scare her; have her think he was just another guy on the make, out to use her; hurt her. He certainly didn’t want her to think he’d ever take advantage of the power situation they were in with him as her de facto boss while his mother was gone. That was a whole world of worry he didn’t sign up for.

Why, then, did she have to feel so good in his arms? Smell so alluring? Be so naturally appealing? And why did he want to do everything in his power to make her life manageable again?

It didn’t take a genius to decipher how attracted he was to her. Even his sisters had seen something going on with him that morning. Try though he did not to, his gaze tracked her wherever she was in the diner. He knew when she entered the kitchen even if his back was to the swing door. He wanted to protect her, erase all the bad things going on in her life, and at the same time take her to bed where he could show her what a man who truly desired her could do for her.

If ever there was time to not tempt fate and act on his feelings, it was right now.

Michael took a giant mental breath. Nodding, he slid his hands from around her waist and stepped back until he was certain he couldn’t reach her again if he stretched out his arms.

And Lord, did he want to touch her again. For as long as she’d let him.

“My mother raised us with the philosophy that kindness and caring are what truly make the world a better place,” he said when he could trust himself to keep the lust from weaving into his voice. He took another step backward. “I’ll let you go on up now. Thanks again for Saturday. You saved me a huge scheduling headache and I’m grateful.”

It was her turn to nod. “I’m the one who’s grateful,” she said, with a lopsided grin as she swiped at her wet cheeks. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning. I’ve got opening shift.”

Want to know what happens next?? You’ll need to…read the book, LOL!!

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#teaseMeThursday – A Pride Of Brothers: DYLAN

Today’s little tease is from ( you guessed it) Monday’s release of A PRIDE OF BROTHERS: DYLAN.

Harper Vale is my kind of woman and heroine: smart, snarky, doesn’t suffer fools, introverted, and has a dream.

Here’s a little insight into what happens after she’s fired…

In the elevator, the guard demanded her badge and security code card, which she handed over without a word into his meaty outstretched hand. Harper was too furious to feel embarrassed when the questioning stares and raised eyebrow glances of co-workers shot at her as she was escorted through the lobby and out the front doors. She was met at the entrance by another guard holding her backpack and told it contained everything in her desk of a personal nature, including her bike helmet.

The pack was unzipped, indicating they’d searched through it.  A sense of violation shot through her and the anger swimming inside her intensified.

“Don’t try to come back into the building,” the Neanderthal said. “You’ll be stopped, detained, and handed over to the police for trespassing.”

“Don’t worry, Dickhead,” she said, her voice carrying clearly into the lobby. “I have no intention of ever coming back here.”

He tossed her a speaking glance and it took every ounce of will she could summon not to shoot him a middle finger salute as he strode back into the building on legs ridiculously too large for his pants.

Seething, she made her way to the bike rack and slipped her helmet on. After searching her backpack she found her wallet, phone, house keys, an emergency bike repair kit, and an old pack of peppermints, everything she typically carried with her. She’d never brought any pictures or other personal items into her workspace to clutter it and make it homey. To her, it was merely a space to work.

Ten years, she muttered, as she wove her bike through traffic. Ten years of her life devoted to a company that never appreciated her and now accused her of being a thief.

Lunch hour traffic was unusually thick and it took her an extra half hour of zipping in and out of traffic before she made it safely to her apartment.  Throughout the trek, her anger grew to a boiling point.

She wanted to hit something. Hard.

Paying for a session at SCHMASH blew into her mind but was quickly discarded. She’d been fired which meant her income was now gone.

Fired.

How in the world had this happened? She’d done nothing—certainly never stolen from him. Or anyone.

And where had that bank account with her social security number attached to it come from?

If she possessed fifty thousand available dollars it certainly wouldn’t have been in a bank in another country. She’d have invested it in her project,  not socked it away on foreign soil.

Someone had set her up. That was the only explanation. Someone had stolen something from Kirkpatrick, sold it, and made it look like she was responsible.

Why? Who the hell hated her so much?

She may not be best friends with anyone at K.I. but she’d certainly never done anything to warrant this.

As she pulled her bike off the elevator, Ginger’s door flew open.

“Oh, Harper. I thought you might be the delivery person. I’m waiting for my new fruit of the month delivery. Whatever are you doing home in the middle of a workday?”

Nerves raw and emotions in chaos, the last thing Harper wanted was to get into a gabfest with her nosy, however nice, neighbor.

“Just taking some personal time,” she said, shoving her bike through her apartment door. With a forced smile, she added, “I’ve got a bunch of vacation time saved and if I don’t use it I lose it.”

Ginger’s expression told Harper if given the slightest indication she wanted company, the woman would be in her place in a heartbeat.

“Oh, well, enjoy the afternoon, then, dear. I’m off to pack for a visit with one of my sons for a few days.”

“Enjoy.”

“You as well.”

She shut herself into her apartment, fell back against the closed door after slamming it against the stuck portion, then slid down it to the floor.  The tears she’d been valiantly holding back were finally allowed to rain down her cheeks.

Harper dropped her head against her knees and let them free.

~~Intrigued?
Preorder here: Amazon
Watch the trailer here: You tube

Add it to your GOODREADS WANT TO READ LIST here: goodreads

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#TeaseMeThursday 5.13.2021

Since I’ve got a new holiday novella releasing next month, I figured today would be a good time to put up a little tease from it.

SANTA BABY ( A Dickens Holiday Prequel – Dorrit’s Diner) was a joy to write – took me a week plus a few hours to get the first draft down. Amy Dorrit, owner of Dorrit’s Diner, was one of my favorite drive-by characters in Angels Kisses and Holiday Wishes from the first Christmas Comes to Dickens anthology and I sosososos wanted to give her a great backstory and HEA. SANTA BABY is the prequel to this years full length romance from Dickens from me, FIXING CHRISTMAS, but more on that in months to come.

SANTA BABY is a short – only 57 pages – sweet romance novella set 38 years ago. In the world of book publishing that makes it an historical read!! HEEHEE. No cellphones, iPads, or laptops in this story, kids. Just two people who love each other and an abandoned baby.

I hope you enjoy this little teaser…

Here’s the blurb and then a little tease from the pages….

It’s Christmas Eve morning in the tiny New England town of Dickens.

Santa’s arrival is imminent, and a hint of snow is in the air.

Amy Dorrit is just about to open her popular diner for the breakfast rush when she discovers an abandoned baby on her back doorstep.

Amy knows she should call the authorities and turn the infant over to them, but she just can’t. Thoughts of her own abandonment as a baby flood through her and she wants to keep the little one out of the hands of the authorities until the mother – hopefully –returns.

But will the mom come back? And if she doesn’t, what is Amy prepared to do about the baby who has, already, claimed her heart?

…..

“I know that look like the back of my hand,” Andy said. He shook his head as he closed the door behind him. “It usually means there’s a come to Jesus lecture about to be spoken and I should bow my head and fold my hands.”

When a corner of his kissable mouth lifted, her annoyance fled. Andy took two steps forward, his arms outstretched and she went into them willingly and without hesitation.

As she breathed in the scent of leather from his uniform jacket, Amy closed her eyes.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you call me right away? You know I would have been here in a blink, sirens blaring if I had to.”

She pulled back, quirked an eyebrow and asked, “And this would be because you carry formula and diapers in your patrol car, would it?”

He had the grace to look sheepish. “Well, no. But I could have run out and gotten them for you.”

It took her a millisecond to realize he wasn’t so much angry as hurt he hadn’t been her first call. She cuddled into him again.

“The only reason I called Corrine and Matilda is because I wanted to talk to my mom. Unfortunately, I couldn’t.” His arms tightened around her waist. “Since those two are like mothers to me, I called them.” She shifted so she could look into his eyes. “I figured they’d know what to do, what I’d need. And they did. That’s all it was.” She cupped his cheeks and placed a sweet kiss on his mouth.

He sighed against her lips. “It’s a good thing your door is closed because if anyone saw me kissing you while I’m on duty, I’d never hear the end of it from the Chief.”

She kissed the tip of his nose and then pulled out of his embrace.

Intrigued? I hope so. You can preorder the novella now and have it delivered right to your device on June 7!

Easy Peasy.

And because I’m such a visual person, I love a good book trailer, and Nancy Fraser produced the perfect one for me. Check it out:

See? Perfect!

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#TeaseMeThursday 3.25.2021

Something new for me today – TEASE ME THURSDAY where I share books I’m currently working on.

Today’s little tidbit is from BALANCE, the next edition of the Uptown Girls series I hope to release in September. The heroine, Phillipa Doubletree, has survived an abusive marriage and is trying to forge a life on her own for the first time in her 38 years.  This is the opening -so far – unedited as of yet. Hope you like it.

The other day while waiting for a manicure, I took one of those rate your life tests you find in old editions of Cosmo and Elle. You know the ones. Your overall score gives an empirical value of how your life’s going at the moment.

Not exactly the healthiest way to take stock of your present situation, I know. But I had a few minutes to kill before my manicurist finished up with her previous client and I figured, what the hell?

I scored a whopping 41 percent on the test.

The only question garnering a complete 10 was the one that asked if your finances are in order.

Mine are.

When you’re the only child of a father with a seat on the Stock Exchange and a mother who was lucky enough to be born into one of the oldest families in the country, you can’t help but be fiscally sound.

Legend has it in my family that trust fund baby were my first coherent, spoken words.

Unfortunately, the rest of the questionnaire’s results were anything but stellar.

~Do you feel fulfilled in your work situation?

I don’t work.

~ Are you happy with your current love life?

What love life?

~Does getting up each day fill you with a sense of purpose?

Okay, that one I’m seriously working on, but I still only rated it a 5. I gave myself that much for the effort I’d been making of late to become a better person.

~Do you have any mental health issues you are grappling with?

I should have given myself a 10 for this one since I was still in therapy twice a week, but since I wasn’t so much grappling with as learning how to deal with my issues, I scored it low.

By the time my name was called, a deep, dark, funk had invaded my soul.

Here I was, staring 38 in the face and had nothing tangible to show for a life of spoiled riches except a few grey hairs and a frown line my mother suggested—strongly and often—I get botoxed away.

I’d married young – way too young – for the wrong reason, and then stayed in the emotionally abusive relationship out of fear. I’d abandoned my best friend when she needed me the most and I’d never taken advantage of all the, well, advantages, my parents’ social standing and financial security offered me.

In essence, from the age of twenty-one, I’d stopped participating in being an adult and went through the next fifteen years in a zombie state. The reason is something I was still coming to grips with, hence the twice-weekly therapy sessions.

And I sound like I’m whining. I’m not.

Well…maybe a little.

But in truth, I was trying, hard, to fashion something for my future aside from therapy, society lunches, and shopping.

Which explained why I was in the back seat of a cab at two in the morning, holding an hysterical, bleeding woman twice my age, while commanding the driver go faster so we could get her to the nearest emergency room. I offered him twice the amount on the meter and told him I’d pay any speeding tickets he got along the way.

In order to give some purpose to my life, I’d been volunteering at a women’s center for the past three months. My best friend Aurora – who’d I’d reconnected with after a fifteen-year separation – got me the position after I told her I needed to do something constructive with my life. Aurora had been a volunteer at the center for a few years and felt my participation would help both the marginalized women there who were in need, and myself. Since I’d been in a relationship that had taken over my mind, body, and spirit, and I’d managed to come out on the other side of it emotionally and physically intact (mostly), she figured I’d be a good role model to women in similar, and even worse, circumstances.

Because I could walk the walk and talk the talk of a woman who’d been subjugated and made to feel less than by the person who was supposed to love me unconditionally, Aurora figured I could relate to the women’s fears and worries. I’d actually been through the fire they were currently navigating through.

She wasn’t wrong. Despite our economic and social differences, the women I’d dealt with found in me a sister in arms. Since joining the team, I’d woken on volunteer days with a sense that I was doing actual good in the world (which explained the score of 5 on the questionnaire.)

Here’s the tentative cover – which I may change. Not sure yet:

Looking for me? Here I am:

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