Tag Archives: #teasertuesday #tuesdayteaser #WIP

#tuesdaytease 12.17.24

So this one is from my next HEAVEN’S MATCHMAKER book that is releasing on 4.7.25…

Blurb:

Third-generation matchmaker, Olivia Joyner, enjoys a 99% success rate when it comes to helping people find their happily ever afters. But her newest client is proving to be part of the 0.1 percent.

All the women Olivia have matched geriatrician Hunter Reinhart with have been perfect on paper. None of them, though, have resulted in a second request for a date, and all the women say the same thing: Hunter, although handsome and successful, is just…dull. And boring. And too reserved.

Olivia can’t understand it, because to her? Hunter is none of those things. In fact, he’s the exact opposite of dull, boring, and reserved. He’s a man she would consider worthy of marrying herself – if she was in the market for a spouse.

Which she isn’t.

Olivia needs to figure out why she can’t find Hunter Reinhart the perfect match, and it just may require her to do something she’s never done before: go on a “date” with a client.

Purely for research and educational purposes, that is.

He couldn’t have heard her correctly.

Date? The two of them? Like as in date-date? That made no sense.

She was his matchmaker. The person he’d hired to find him a wife, not be a- potential – one.

Before he could say anything, she added, “Not for real, I mean. That would be unethical and I’m certain would get me kicked out of the Matchmaker’s club.”

His brow creased. “There’s a Matchmaker’s club?”

Flipping a hand carelessly in the air, she rose, saying, “Professional ethics,” as if that explained anything. “I think we should go on a fake date or two.”

Hunter shook his head, still trying to get around the fact she wanted them to date.

Fake date? Just what the hell was that?

“Now,” she crossed to her desk and lifted her table, tapped it a few times, then brought it back to the couch, reading. “When you filled out the intake questionnaire for me you indicated you enjoyed winter sports, which is good since you live here and winter’s nine months of the year in a good year.” She grinned across to him. “But you also stated you’re open to trying new things as long as they don’t involve potentially hazardous outcomes.” She lifted her gaze again. “Give me a for instance.”

He blinked a few times. Was she seriously just leaving him hanging with no explanation about the two of them dating statement?

“What do you mean, fake date?”

Liv pulled her bottom lip under her top teeth, her gaze dropping down to her tablet for a moment before rising again and connecting with his. “It wouldn’t be a real date, not in the true sense of the word and the outcome. It would be more an educational experience, from a professional perspective. We’ll pretend to be on a date and you act like you would on a real one.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes, why, Olivia. Why would we go on a date, fake or real, for educational purposes, which, by the way, I can’t even imagine the meaning of?”

Her smile bloomed quick and bright for a moment he lost his train of thought.

“I see. Well, what I mean about educational purposes is that doing this will allow me to see and evaluate how you interact when you’re on a real date. Understand?”

He cocked his head. “Why do you need to…evaluate me? You said I wasn’t the problem.”

She took a breath and he wondered if she was trying to measure her words so they’d be diplomatic.

Who was he kidding? Of course she was.

PERFECT MATCH Liv and Hunter, Book 3 in Heaven’s Matchmaker is up for preorder right now, right here

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#tuesdaytease 10.26.24

If you know, you know…that today’s tease is going to be about (what else??!! LOL) my upcoming Dickens release A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS.

But….maybe not.

Today I’d like to tease the other books in the series – the one’s I’ve written – just in case you haven’t read them yet or been exposed to the Dickens universe.

All my stories center around Dorrit’s Diner and Amy Charles’ adopted kids.

The first book in my part of the series, ANGELS KISSES AND HOLIDAY WISHES, introduced Amy as a secondary walk-on, walk-off character. I loved her so much that I wanted to write an entire series about her.

So I did.

Her origin story is SANTA BABY.

Then, FIXING CHRISTMAS details Amy’s first daughter, ABRACADABRA CHARLES, life. She’s back in Dickens and living in a house that is literally falling down around her ears. Enter hunky ex-military town Mr. Fixit, Colton Bree. Shenanigans and love ensues.

In SASHA’S SECRET SANTA, Amy’s middle child, SASHA CHARLES, an emergency room nurse, comes home to Dickens after a life-altering event. She leaves the nursing profession behind her and wants to start anew. Enter Steve Caldwell, the new administrator for Dickens Memorial Hospital. He wants Sasha on his staff.

And after getting to know her, his life.

DON’T MESS WITH THE MISTLETOE details the life of Amy’s “baby”, six-foot-four Michael Charles, a pilot. He’s back in Dickens for a rest from his hectic life and gets wrangled into working at his Mom’s diner for a bit while she takes a rest. Waitress Julia Maryland and her six-year-old daughter Blake don’t fit into Michael’s version of a carefree, globe-trotting life. But, he’s beginning to wonder if his wanderlust has burned itself out…and if being a homebody is what will bring him happiness. Of course, is Julia is added into the mix, then…

ANd then there’s this year’s book, A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS, which I have been promoting, ad nauseum, for weeks.

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#tuesdaytease 9.17.2024

Since A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS is up for preorder right now, I figured I do another tease from the book.

If you’ve read any of my Dickens Holiday Romance stories, you know FIXING CHRISTMAS is the story of Abracadabra Charles, alias A.B. Cards. Abra’s got a prickly personality burned in snark-speak and wit that underlines a basic inferiority complex due to her being abandoned by her birth mother and left on Amy’s doorstep on Christmas morning.

Abra’s grumpiness is evident through Fixing Christmas, Sasha’s Secret Santa, Don’t Mess with the Mistletoe and now A Chef’s Kiss Christmas.

In this tease, it is New Year’s Day and her interrogation skills are getting a workout on Portia…

“’Morning.” Portia yawned as she came into the kitchen. “Happy New Year.”

Abra, still in pjs, was feeding Amelia a bottle while Colton was busy breaking up a croissant for Stevie.

Colton repeated the sentiment to her.

“Did you guys make it to midnight?” she asked as she poured a cup of coffee from the carafe on the counter.

Abra’s laugh reminded her of a wheezing dog’s bark. “Not even close. We both passed out at nine. Luckily this one,” she kissed the top of the nursing baby’s head, “gave us a respite and didn’t wake us until two-thirty and then six.”

“Longest stretch of uninterrupted sleep I think we’ve gotten in almost 2 years,” Colt said, grinning. “Felt like I slept a week.”

“A week would be nice.” Abra slanted a glare at her agent. “What time did you get in?”

“I don’t even know. Late. Or early, depending on how you look at it.” Portia couldn’t outright lie because the thought Abra might have been awake and heard the car door close was a possibility. Even though she’d been extremely quiet about it.

Finished, Abra began burping Amelia.

“Did you have a good time?” Colt asked.

Phenomenal was on the tip of her tongue, but there was no way she could tell them that and then not explain why. They still thought she’d gone to Antonelli’s for the party.

“It was good.”

“See anyone you know?” Abra asked.

There was a world of suspicion in that question and Portia knew it. If she lied and mentioned a name, she could be assured Abra would find out from the person she’d named, personally.

“Not really. I didn’t stay long. I went out to Grovesnor’s Pond to watch the fireworks from my car.”

This was a lie, but she knew it couldn’t be verified because Amy had been the one to tell her most of the town came out to see the awesome display when it went off at midnight.

“And then?” Abra pressed.

With a shrug, Portia said, “I stayed for a while and just…thought about things.”

“Like what?”

“Abra.” Colton’s voice hadn’t risen a notch and yet Portia could hear the warning in his tone.

“What?” his wife asked, eyes wide, all innocence.

Bless the man. He may not have known his wife as long as Portia had, but he was attuned to all her quirks and traits liked he’d grown up with, and been with her, every day of their lives.

With a crooked pull of his mouth to one side, he shook his head. “Stop with the third degree. Save it for when Stevie and Amelia are teenagers.  You’ll need those C.I.A.-like interrogation skills of yours then. But cut her,” he nodded his head at Portia, “some slack. Okay?”

Abra’s pout rivaled anything her three-year-old could pull off. She nodded, sighed, then said, “What are your plans for today?” as she put the now sleeping baby in her Moses cradle.

With a shrug, Portia sipped her coffee. “Just some client reading. Not yours,” she added with a meaningful glance.

“It’s coming. It’s coming.”

“Speaking of coming, I just heard the paper hit the porch,” Colton said.

“I’ll get it.” Abra rose and when she passed by him, Colt reached out, grabbed one of her hands and with that same sexy crooked grin, kissed her knuckles.

Abra shook her head, then planted a kiss on the top of his head. “It’s a good thing you’re handsome,” she said with a sniff.

Colton’s lips split into a cocky, all-teeth smile.

Intrigued? I hope so, LOL!

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So, the cover for my 2024 addition to the DICKENS HOLIDAY ROMANCE series, A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS, will be revealed on our Dickens Facebook page during the Labor Day weekend. But…

Here’s a little from the story, which is in galleys right now, getting ready for preorder.

“What’s that?” Tony thrust his chin toward the bundle in her arms when she got in the car.

She turned to him and with her eyes wide, chin dropped a hair so she could zero in on him, she said, “A freshly cut tabletop tree. It’s barely thirty-six inches tall.”

Glaring at her, his own eyes narrowing, he said, “For Abra?”

“Nope.”

She popped the P with a flare.

“Portia.” She’d have to have a hearing deficit to mistake the warning in his voice.

“Anton,” she said back, using the same tone.

“Don’t call me that.” For some reason, he rolled his head right and left.

“We’re in your car, silly. No one can hear us. And before you have a conniption,” she held up one hand, effectively silencing him, “It’s a gift.”

“A gift?”

She nodded and said, “There you go, repeating everything again, but yes. It’s a thank you for helping me today.”

“I didn’t help you at all,” he countered. “When you called me, and then we wound up at the tree farm, I thought it meant you needed help with cutting one down.”

“Initially, that was my thought. But it seemed easier, once we got here, to have the farm hands do it. They’ll do a great job and deliver it, too. But you came with me, gave up your one free afternoon, and because of that, I wanted to say thank you, and getting you this tree is my way of doing it.”

He could argue, but he’d look like a real loser if he refused the offer of the gift.

But… “I don’t have anything to decorate it with, and like I said, I’m not investing in a bunch of things that I won’t be taking with me when I leave.”

“No worries.” She pulled out her phone and gave him the directions to the town’s secondhand store, Curious Curios.

“And we’re going there, why?” he asked, pulling onto the county road.

“Because they have a package waiting for me that I need to pick up. They don’t deliver. And before you say a package, in that deep, smokey, sexy voice,“ he clamped his mouth shut because he’d been about to do just that, “Yes, a package. It’s filled with used ornaments and tree trimmings the owner picked out for me.”

“When?” was all he could think to ask.

“What?”

“Not what. When?”

“When, what?”

The force and breadth of the sigh he expelled fogged up the front windshield. “I feel like I’m in a bad Yogi Berra movie and it’s déjà vu all over again.” Another exhale, this one followed by a cleansing inhale meant to calm him. “When did you arrange for a box of ornaments to be filled for you?”

The banter between these two centers a great deal on his inability to be anything more than monosyllabic most days and her chattiness. You can probably surmise from this quick scene, this is a grumpy/sunshine tropey-book. LOL.

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#teasertuesday 7.16.24

We’re still celebrating CHRISTMAS IN JULY Over on the CHRISTMAS COMES TO DICKENS FB page, so here’s a little tease from my 2024 addition, A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS. SO, if you read last year’s entry, DON’T MESS WITH THE MISTLETOE, you will recognize Julia Charles here today. Things have changed for the lovely waitress in this past year

At one point, the noise level rose considerably, and his head flicked toward the swing doors. They blew open as someone pushed them so hard that they bounced back against the wall and then flung forward again as a unit. Amy’s outstretched hand held them at bay, her other hand wrapped around Julia’s upper arm. The younger woman was waddling, the advanced state of her pregnancy evident today.

“Tony,” Amy barked, “Get me a chair.”

He’d been around kitchen emergencies his entire life. Grease fires, ovens shooting flames from food catching fire, a fryolator overheating, a mishandled knife or two. He recognized the urgency in Amy’s voice.

Like a lightning strike, he shot to the office and returned with Amy’s desk chair.

Julia, sweating and panting, eased down into it with her mother-in-law’s and his help.

“Now RayLynn already called for an ambulance, darlin’,” she told the younger woman as she patted her hand, “and I’m gonna call Michael right now and start the Charles’  family phone tree.” She pulled her cell from her apron pocket and pressed a single button.

From the gist of what he’d just heard, Tony deduced Julia was in labor.

He was about to ask her if he could get her anything or help in any way, but the words were never unleashed because the swing door flew open again, and two paramedics from Dickens Memorial Hospital sailed through grasping a gurney.

Questions were asked and answered, a device was threaded around her ample waist with an explanation it was a fetal heart monitor to gage the baby’s heartrate.

Five minutes after they arrived, Julia was secured, monitor in place, along with an Intravenous inserted, and on her way out the door to the hospital.

Amy grabbed her coat from the peg by the back door, and as she shrugged into it told him, “You’re in charge while I’m gone,” before breezing out the door. “Keep my kitchen running.”

He didn’t hesitate before saying, “Yes, Ma’am.” It was only after the doors closed behind her that he realized he’d agreed without any hesitation or worry.

Something to think about later.

For now, there were hungry people in the dining room.

They made it through the breakfast rush, the lunch crush, and the midafternoon lull. Amy had called twice to check on everything and give baby updates. Julia was still in labor, her pilot husband Michael by her side, along with Julia’s eight-year-old daughter from her first marriage, Blake.

She asked him to hold down the fort for a few more hours. Since he’d been planning to, he told her he would.

The last weekend of the month ( July 26-27, ) It will be my turn to take over as a DICKEN’S Author on the FB page. At that time, I’ll reveal my 2024 cover. It’s a beauty!

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#tuesdaytease 6.25.25

I’ll be teasing the cover reveal for my newest Dicken’s book in July,but for now, here’s a little something about my 2024 Dickens book, A CHEF’S KISS CHRISTMAS. In this scene, Portia and Tony go Christmas Tree shopping for the diner’s tree. He has no idea it’s a ruse Portia is using to get him out and about…

“I knew this tree would look perfect on this table,” Portia said two hours later while she affixed the last ornament.

Tony lifted his head from his position at the stove, stared across the room at her, then shook his head.

Three times.

Three times now she’d all but bamboozled him into doing something he thought he’d never do or sworn not to.

By the time they arrived at the office to give the clerk the tag for the diner tree, he’d forgotten all about her prompt that he get his own holiday tree, instead, his thoughts turned to food. He’d been playing with the idea of deconstructing an alfredo sauce and using it on poached eggs. Maybe he could take a few hours tonight and whip up a few samples. The idea had come to him earlier in the week when a customer had praised the new tangy Alfredo he’d been using in the diner. Amy had relayed the customer’s compliment and he’d begun thinking of alternate ways to use the sauce.

While Portia had paid, he’d gone to bring the car around from the packed lot. When she emerged from the office ten minutes later, she had a wrapped bundle in her arms and was wearing a smile that more than hinted at a Cheshire cat vibe.

“What’s that?” he thrust his chin toward the bundle when she got in the car.

She turned to him and with her eyes wide, chin dropped a hair so she could zero in on him, she said, “A freshly cut tabletop tree. It’s barely thirty-six inches.”

Glaring at her, his own eyes narrowing, he said, “For Abra?”

“Nope.”

She popped the P with a flare.

“Portia.” She’d have to have a hearing loss to mistake the warning in his voice.

“Anton,” she said back, using the same tone.

“Don’t call me that.” For some reason, he rolled his head right and left.

“We’re in your car, silly. No one can hear us. And before you have a conniption,” she held up one hand, effectively silencing him, “It’s a gift.”

“A gift?”

She nodded and said, “There you go repeating everything again, but yes. It’s a thank you for helping me today.”

“I didn’t help you at all,” he countered. “When you called me and then we wound up at the tree farm, I thought it meant you needed help with cutting one down.”

“Initially, that was my thought. But it seemed easier, once we got here, to have the farm hands to it. They’ll do a great job and deliver it, too. But you came with me, gave up your one free afternoon, and because of that I wanted to say thank you, and getting you this tree is my way of doing it.”

He could argue, but he’d look like a real loser if he refused the offer of the gift.

But… “I don’t have anything to decorate it with and like I said, I’m not investing in a bunch of things that I won’t be taking with me when I leave.”

“No worries.” She pulled out her phone and gave him the directions to the town’s secondhand store, Curious Curios.

“And we’re going there, why?” he asked, pulling onto the county road.

“Because they have a package waiting for me that I need to pick up. They don’t deliver. And before you say a package, in that deep, smokey, sexy voice,” he clamped his mouth shut because he’d been about to do just that, “Yes, a package. It’s filled with used ornaments and tree trimmings the owner picked out for me.”

“When?” was all he could think to ask.

“What?”

“Not what. When?”

“When, what?”

The force and breadth of the sigh he expelled fogged up the front windshield. “I feel like I’m in a bad Yogi Berra movie and it’s déjà vu all over again.” Another exhale, this one followed by a cleansing inhale meant to calm him. “When did you arrange for a box of ornaments to be filled for you?”

For the first time in all their interactions, awkwardness descended upon her face and body. Shoulders slumped under her coat; mouth pinched in one corner as if lost in thought; brows flirting with one another, a delicate crease bifurcating them; even her color heightened a bit as her cheeks pinked.

“Portia?”

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again. “I spoke with her on the phone this morning. Told her what I needed and then trusted her to get everything ready for pick up.”

He digested that for the time it took to wait for the traffic light they were stopped at to turn back to green. As he pushed down on the gas pedal he said, “You planned this whole thing, didn’t you? This outing to the tree farm. Me going with you. Getting me that tree. Heck, you were probably even the one who convinced Amy to get a real tree for the diner.” He tossed her a quick glance before concentrating back on the road. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

She stayed silent for an entire block. Then, slowly, she began to nod, until a weak, “Yes,” escaped from between her lips.

“Why? Why did you go to all that trouble? Just for me to have a…holiday tree?” He shook his head. “That makes no sense.”

She turned to him then, and from the corner of his eye he could tell she was nervous.

About what? Him figuring out what she’d done? Her doing it? This was all just crazy.

You’ll have to read the book to find out why she’s so invested in getting him out of the house…

Release day is 11.11.24

Cover reveal starting July !

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#teaserTuesday #Tuesdaytease

Today’s little sumthin’ sumthin’ comes from RETRIBUTION, which is releasing on 4.23.24 YOu can order is on Amazon or from me, directly at the above link. You’ll get your print copy autographed that way, hee hee.

After Kella is outed by the Assistant FBI Director to the press, the team worries she’s now compromised and will leave. This scene is the aftermath of that.

Kella was disconnecting a cell phone call when they came into the room.

Frowning, she looked up at Tucker from her chair.

“Don’t tell me, I already know,” he said, putting up a restraining hand. “Sean’s furious and wants me dead. You can tell him I feel pretty much the same way.”

Kella leaned forward, grabbed his hand, and said, “Yes, he’s furious, but no, he didn’t say anything about killing you.”

“That’s because he’s smart and doesn’t want you tagged as an accessory.”

Good humor restored, she grinned and squeezed Tucker’s hand. Hard. “You’re an idiot, but I love you anyway. The one saving grace, in Sean’s opinion, is that the Assistant Director didn’t give the media my name.”

“That’s a very small comfort, Kel, because those people are human bloodhounds. Especially people like Donovan Rule who make their living off people’s secrets. My guess is that by the end of today, one of the major networks will find out who you are and broadcast it all over the airwaves, official confirmation or not.”

“He’s right, you know,” Anna said, pouring two mugs of coffee. She handed one to Tucker and kept the other for herself.

Kella watched as he absentmindedly took a sip of the brew, closed his eyes, and sighed.

“I figured you needed that,” Anna said. “That press conference was anything but pleasant.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Tucker told her. Kella knew that he never noticed the hint of a pleased blush that spread across the younger woman’s cheeks. “Well, so much for keeping you out of the limelight.”

“It couldn’t be helped, Tuck. Myrna Rowlands is big news,” Kella said.

He nodded, sipping his coffee. “I’m sorry. I did my best.”

She squeezed his hand again and said, “I know.”

“Does your husband want you to come home?” Anna asked, sitting down across from her.

“If you can believe it, no.”

“I’m safe for another few days, then?” Tucker asked, his face and expression deadpan as always.

“Actually, no,” she told him. “He’s flying up as soon as he makes sure everything’s okay at home and at the restaurant.”

Tucker took a moment to register her words. “Is he going to stay?”

“That’s the plan. He says he knows I want to see this through to the end but he says there’s no way I’m staying here without him. He thinks the same way you do, that the media hounds will find out who I am. He wants to be there if they do and keep me protected.”

Anna couldn’t help herself. She sighed, loudly, and dropped her chin into her fist on the table. “He really loves you.”

Tucker turned to her.

Kella’s smile was wide and open. “Yeah, he does. So it looks like you’re going to have to find us a hotel. Both of us can’t stay with Anna. And the FBI’s paying,” she added, a stern warning look in her eyes. “That is if you think you still need me. I’d like nothing better than to go home and let you and the Posse finish this up.”

“No. You’re staying,” Tucker said. “Not another word.”

Intrigued? I hope so.

Amazon LInk RETRIBUTION

Direct Sale from me WEBSITE SALE

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#Tuesdaytease #teasertuesday

From the 4.23.24 release of RETRIBUTION

Staring at the phone, Tucker debated calling Kella. It had been two days since she‘d been given all the case information. She should have gone through it by now.

Just as he decided to call, his secretary buzzed through.

“Yes, Marcia?’

“Call for you on two. I almost didn’t believe who it was.” Tucker could feel her smile through the office wire. “It’s Kella. I haven’t spoken to her in I don’t know how long.”

“Put her through.”

A second later he said, “Kella?”

“Hey, Tuck.”

“Please tell me you’re done with the profile.”

“I’m fine, and how are you this lovely morning,” she asked, a laugh in her voice.

Tucker tossed his glasses on his desk and rubbed his eyes. “Kella, I don’t have time –”

“You never did,” she told him, the mirth still in her tone.

“What have you got?”

“Well, to backtrack a little, I went through everything you gave me. This is one disturbed man.”

“That goes without saying.”

“Yeah well, you and the Posse probably have a baseline profile. Male, twenty-five to forty, trouble with relationships. Lives alone, no friends, menial job, poor education. How’m I doing?”

“Right on the nose.”

“Well, you can throw it away. None of it’s accurate, except for the gender.”

Tucker sat bolt upright, put his glasses back on, and pulled a legal pad and pen across his desk.

“Talk.”

Intrigued? I hope so. ~Peg

Preorder link: Retribution

GoodreadsGiveaway: Giveaway

Add it to your WANT TO READ list on Goodreads: Want to read

Booksprout Read and Review: Booksprout

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#teaserTuesday #Tuesdaytease

So my tease today is a real tease. I’m involved in a Christmas anthology this year to benefit an animal organization. 15+ authors who’ll be doing little novella/shortstories all revolving around a coffee shop called HOUNDS AND GROUNDS. Think Dunkin Donuts but with dogs allowed.

But I can’t share the book’s main cover with you, or tell you the name of my story or what my bookcover looks like. NOt yet.

See? Real tease today. I can show you the coming soon cover and provide the preorder link, though, lol. So…

LOVE, LATTEs and HOLIDAY TALES preorder.

All the proceeds go toward 4 Paws for Ability, a non-for-profit organization matching service dogs with Veterans.

Wednesday, Coffee, & Books presents: Love, Lattes, & Holiday Tales a collection of brand new unique short stories for this festive season. Snuggle up with some sweet and spicy romance from multi-award-winning authors, including New York Times and USA Today Bestselling.

These amazing multi-genre holiday stories featuring Hounds & Grounds and a loving pet will leave you believing in love and a happily ever after.

Featuring authors:

CJ Warrant & Rochelle Bradley
CJ Barlowe
Rochelle K Bradley
Sharon Hamilton NYT & USAT Bestselling
Phoebe Alexander USAT Bestselling
Monica DeSimone USAT Bestselling
Marie Hall USAT Bestselling
LC Taylor USAT Bestselling
Miranda Lynn USAT Bestselling
Faith Alexander
C.J. Baty
Sutton Bishop
Cynthia Carver
C. J. Corbin
Aliya DalRae
Hope Daniels
Anna Hague
Miski Harris
Sara Hurst
Juliette Hyland
Peggy Jaeger (THAT’S ME!!! LOL)
Margaret Kay
Tessa McFionn
Sharon Michalove
Charli Rahe
AJ Renee
Tori Ross
Aurelia Yates

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#tuesdayTease #teaserTuesday 2.6.2024

This past Saturday I told you some backstory to my upcoming April 23rd release of Retribution. If you can stand some more about the book ( LOL) here’s a little bit of a tease…this shows you what Kella’s life is like now, 10 years after she left the FBI.

“This is some menu,” Jameson said, reading down both sides.

“Kella claimed it was the best food for fifty miles,” Tucker told them, taking in the packed room. “I don’t think she was exaggerating.”

He’d called ahead for reservations, and they’d been shown to a table immediately upon arrival. He’d seen no sign yet of Sean or Kella.

“What looks good?” Diego asked.

“Everything,” Anna said, her eyes widening at the vast and varied array of choices. “I’m glad I had that workout today. There’s no dish on here that isn’t at least fifteen hundred calories.”

“Oh, there are a few,” Kella said.

She was standing at their table, three little bodies with her. On her hip was a small girl whose hair and texture were cloned from her mother. Brilliant, oval blue eyes shot out at them, wide and watchful, a thumb secured in her mouth.

Anna was stunned to see the three men rise.

“Sit down,” she said, waving her hand at them and smiling. “These are my girls. This,” she jiggled the toddler in her arms, causing a squeal of giggles to erupt around the mouth-attached thumb, “is Bridget. She’s eighteen months. This,” she laid a hand on the shoulder of her second daughter, a small version of her father with curly black hair pulled back in a headband, and eyes the shape and color of perfect chocolate chips, “is Enya.”

“I’m five.”

“And proud of it,” Kella said. “And this is –”

“I’m Donelle. I’m the oldest. I’m nine.”

Tucker stared, mesmerized by the little girl. Sean’s build, coloring and physical intensity were branded on her, but her face was pure Kella, right down to the slight dip that ski-sloped the edge of her nose. Eyes the shape of seasoned almonds and lashes darker than anything Tucker had ever seen fanned her high, chiseled cheeks when she blinked. A small, lush pouty mouth ended in a strong and perfectly heart-shaped jaw which was boldly upturned, an expression Tucker knew from memory.

“In case you missed it, she’s also the shyest,” Kella said, her lips curving at the corners.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Tucker said, reclaiming his seat.

“How do you know Mommy?” Enya asked. “You’re not from here. We know most everybody ‘cause our daddy owns this rest’rant and everybody in town comes here. But you’re new.”

Tucker managed to conceal the smile looming on his face by reaching for a drink of water.

“I know them from where I used to live,” Kella said.

“In Washington, D.C.” Donelle told her younger sister.

“That’s right. From a long time ago before you were all born.”

Enya turned her attention back to Tucker and said, “You must be old.”

He was reprieved from replying by their waitress returning to take their order.

Intrigued? LOL. Hope so

~ Peg

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