[ #Excerpt + Character Interview + #Giveaways] Unbearable Guilt by @EGrayson_Author

I'm happy to share not only an excerpt and Two great giveaways with you today.. but also a character interview with Kane from Unbearable Guilt.  He's a man of few words..

Unbearable Guilt
(Breathe Again #2)

by:  Emma Grayson













Blurb:



Kane Archer hasn't always been tormented; he hasn't always hated himself or been full of rage.  He hasn't always lived his life with an overpowering sense of guilt that threatens to destroy him.




There was a time when his life was different.  He was optimistic; he smiled and laughed; he loved passionately; he had it all.


Kane was content -- until the unthinkable took it all away.


Emotionally numb, stricken by guilt, and haunted by the events preceding Aimee's death, the last thing Kane wanted was to meet someone he connected with; someone who made him feel again.


As Kane gets closer to those responsible for Aimee's death, he is thrown a curveball when he discovers a secret so devastating it rocks his world and threatens to destroy his chance at happiness.

Whitney Jareau packed her life when tragedy struck her family, leaving everything behind.  Finally free from the persistent and domineering family that insisted she do the one thing she couldn't, Whitney found peace in Camden.

Two years later, her family wants her to come home and will stop at nothing to get her there.  Wearing her heart on her sleeve for Kane Archer, a man so gorgeous it hurts to see the pain he carries, Whitney fights her family and refuses to return home to carry out their wishes.

Can Whitney stay strong without giving in to the demands of her family?

Can Kane let go of the past and move forward with the woman who brought him back to life?

Or, will he walk away from her and carry the burden of  UNBEARABLE GUILT...



Buy it :   Coming Feb. 2014

Character Interview w/ Kane Archer

First and foremost, please tell us how you maintain your killer body.

Simple.  I work out every day.  I do a lot of cardio and weight lifting as well as kick boxing.

What is your favorite feature of a woman? 

Other than the eyes, legs. Love a woman with a nice pair of legs that can wrap around me perfectly -- like Whitney's. 

Tell us about the first time you laid eyes on Whitney.

 I hadn't been back in Camden for long and I saw her in Beans...  I hadn't seen anyone as beautiful as her in a very long time.  I suddenly wasn't sure I wanted to leave Camden as quick as I planned. 

What about Whitney sparked your interest?

How nervous I made her.  Every time I saw her, I could see the nervousness ripple through her.  It intrigued me.  Plus, her eyes are pretty fuckin' gorgeous, they have a calming effect that I'd never experienced before.

Who impacted your life mostly?

Joining the army.  I don't know where life would have taken me if I wouldn't have joined. 

Favorite junk food?

I think that's pretty obvious, M&M peanuts.

Favorite drink?

Again, obviously it's Red bull or whiskey or water.

If you could live anywhere on Earth where would that be and why?

On a beach, somewhere where there isn't any goddamn snow - hate that shit. 

Do you believe in aliens?

Aren't we aliens in our own way?

What is your biggest regret?

Not talking to Luke more

 
Biggest fear?

Losing Whitney

What is your favorite position?

Missionary -- I like it nice and deep, darlin'. 

Favorite kind of music -- and band or artist?

I like a little bit of everything, but favorite I'd have to go with Metallica or Slipknot.

I have to say, I'm pretty interested in the tattoo you have on the side of your ribs, can you share with us what it says and maybe what it means?

It's some of the lyrics to Metallica's Fade to Black.  It says...

I have lost the will to live
Simply nothing more to give
There is nothing more for me
Need the end to set me free

Things not what they used to be
Missing one inside of me
Deathly lost, this can't be real
Cannot stand this hell I feel

Emptiness is filling me
To the point of agony
Growing darkness taking dawn
I was me, but now he's gone

I was in a dark place at the time of getting it, but it's a reminder at just how quickly life can turn on you, and reminds me of a place I was at one time -- one I don't ever wanna revisit.

It's pretty dark, is it safe to assume you're no longer in a dark place?

What do you think?

Tell us something we don't know about you.

Luke will deny I ever said this, but I kick his ass every damn time at Call of Duty.  He'll tell you he kicks my ass, but he's full of shit- the guy has a weak shot.

I'm also a baseball fan, I hate seafood, I taught myself to play the guitar while overseas, and my favorite movie is Hang 'Em High -  I'm an Eastwood fan.

Next thing he was gone, and I could almost breathe again. As it became easier to breathe, I rolled and pulled myself to my feet, and then looked around to see where the girl was. I saw her a couple of feet away, sitting on the ground with her shirt pulled tightly around her, and her knees to her chest. As I made my way towards her, the sounds of fighting echoed behind me, making me stop in my tracks and look over my shoulder.

I watched as Kane punched the guy across the face and he stumbled backwards. Kane then took a step forward and grabbed the guy, throwing him to the side like it was nothing. The guy fell to the ground and quickly tried to scramble away, but Kane’s boot meeting with his ribs stopped him.

The guy stopped moving, his hand finding the spot where Kane had kicked him. I watched Kane walk over and stand over him. The guy spit, his body jerking to the side to move, but Kane anticipated his move and his foot found the other side of his rib cage. The guy’s painful howl echoed throughout the alleyway.

As I stumbled over to the girl, I noticed Kessel crouched down next to her, making sure she was all right. Ignoring the dizziness in my head and the Jell-O like feeling in my legs, I crouched down next to her.

“You okay, hun?” I asked, hissing in pain as I unzipped my hoodie then wrapped it around her shoulders.

“I think so, h—he didn’t, y—you got here j—just in time,” she croaked out, pulling my hoodie around her tighter.

And thank God.

I closed my eyes and nodded, feeling relieved.

“Thank you, you . . . didn’t have to d—do that.”

“Yes I did.”

I knew I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I hadn’t. If it had been me, and someone had heard and knew I was there, I would have wanted them to save me, and not just leave me there to try and fight him away myself and let the inevitable happen.

“Are you okay?” the girl asked, looking me over.

I nodded, reassuring her. “Yeah, I’m just—ouch, what the hell!” I exclaimed when someone grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.

When I turned, I was met with a pair of dark, blazing green eyes that sliced into me like a knife in butter.

Oh boy.

Holy shit!

Kane was pissed.

No, he was beyond pissed.

He was furious. If we were in a cartoon, I was sure he’d be foaming from the mouth as steam blew out from his ears.

His grip around my arm tightened, not enough to hurt me, but enough to keep me in place and unable to move away from him.

“What the fuck was that?” he bit out through gritted teeth.

“Kane, I’m fine—”

“Don’t!” he barked. “What the fuck was going through your head that made you think that was a smart idea? What the hell were you thinking?” he asked, glaring at me, his jaw tightly clenched. His eyes were dark and the size of dimes.

“I wasn’t,” I said, pulling my arm free from his grasp. “And stop looking at me like that. There was no other choice, I couldn’t just leave her—I had to do something.”

“You could have been hurt—more than you are,” he said, looking over my face before his eyes dropped down over my body. “Or worse; what if we didn’t get here in time? Then what? Were you just going to roll around on the ground until someone came?”

“I wasn’t worried,” I told him, the cool night air blowing across my bear arms as I crossed them over my chest. “I knew you’d get here like you said.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” he retorted, his angry face inching closer to mine.

As my face moved towards his, I could see his chest heaving up and down like he was fighting to stay in control. “Yes, I do,” I whispered firmly, my eyes dead-set with his.

Neither of us said another word. We just stood a foot apart with our eyes locked, staring each other down.

He was livid. I could see it in his taut body and through his eyes as they blazed back at me, but there was something else there along with the anger, something that I could feel radiating off him and swirling around us like a giant storm cloud.

Fear.

There was no mistaking it. I knew what fear looked like.

 
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[ #Excerpt + #Giveaway] All That's Unspoken by Constance Phillips #Romance

All That's Unspoken
by:  Constance Phillips



Publication:  Turquoise Morning Press (Dec. 16, 2013)
ASIN:  B00HD0DZQ6
Length:  150 pages
Genre: Contemporary  Romance


Blurb: 

 After eight years, Hailey is back in Caseville Michigan.  Just months after her mother's death, her siblings want to put their father in a nursing home and rent out the family farm.  If that wasn't enough, the prospective tenant is Nate, the high school crush she left behind the day after they acted on their mutual attraction.

After high school, Nate Jenkins planned to leave small town behind, but life dealt him a different hand of cards to play.  Now he's back in Caseville, raising his daughter, and running his family's diner.  His daughter's speech disorder has been improved by therapeutic horse riding and if he can lease the old Lambert farm, he can get her a horse of her own.  The only thing standing in the way is Hailey, the same woman who left him eight years ago without even saying goodbye.

Can they get over all that's unspoken between them?

Buy it :  Amazon  |   Barnes & Noble

Only when she heard the bell above the door ring out, was she able to unclench her fists and let out the breath that had tightened her chest. She’d seen Nate lingering around the edge of the counter with her plate of pancakes in hand but didn’t want him to approach her now.

She really didn’t have it in her to deal with him.

He came forward anyway, and set the plate in front of her. After a hesitation, he asked, “Can I sit for a minute?”

Her eyes fluttered closed, but she gestured to the chair. She heard it scrape against the old worn tile and could feel him just inches away from her.

“I’m sorry your dad’s health is on the decline. I’ve always really liked him. It stinks, you know.”

She took a deep breath, maybe they could talk as old friends and ignore the complications of the night they’d spent together. “I don’t think he’s that bad. Jake and Kelly are overreacting.”

He twisted his hands on his lap. “I can see how you would think that. Some days when I see him, he’s sharp as nails. Others….”

Her phone vibrated against the table. The habit to check the ID won out against the desire meet Nate’s stare. An eight-hundred number flashed, twisting Hailey’s stomach into knots. Another bill collector wanting to take the money she was trying to stretch just a little further, hoping to get through a few more weeks. She hit the button to ignore the call.

“I overheard what you said about your dad wanting the property to stay the same,” Nate said. “I’ll take real good care of the place and won’t change a thing. I love that farm the way it is.”

That brought her attention back. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been talking to Jake about renting the house.”

She took in his deep brown eyes and almost black hair. It was cropped short like he was trying to beat-the-heat, even if the average temperature this week was somewhere around ten degrees. Much shorter than he wore it in high school. The neatly trimmed beard and mustache were new too.

He looked older. More settled.

How ironic.

They’d both thought this small town would smother them back then. For a fleeting moment it comforted her to picture Nate cooking in her family’s kitchen, and then she realized it wouldn’t be her house anymore. She’d be on the outside looking in. “It feels like everything is being taken away from me.”

His body stiffened as he pulled back. “It’s not like I’m stealing it. I’m going to pay you for it.”

“This isn’t about money!”

“Then what is it about?”

She reached for her purse and fumbled for her wallet with trembling hands. “Everyone seems to think that just because I don’t live here, I don’t have a voice, but you’re all wrong.” She threw a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “I didn’t leave the planet, I moved to New York. I didn’t abandon my family, but it feels like they think so. I’m sick of being treated like an outside in my hometown, in my family home, in my own life.”

She stood and tried to turn, but he grabbed her wrist. Looking back would weaken her resolve—Nate had always had that effect on her—but she did it anyway.

 “Please, it would mean a lot to Lori... and me.”

His daughter. The child he’d had with someone else. A lump formed in her throat as she thought of the two of them in her living room without her. Why did it hurt so much?

 It wasn’t as if he left her. She’d pursued and claimed the future she’d always wanted.

 Hadn’t she?

If everything she’d attained had been all she ever wanted, why was it tearing her in two to know Nate had gone on with his life without her? It wasn’t as if she’d expected he wouldn’t. She should be happy he was settled. Instead, it made her long for that place next to him even more.

A lump formed in her throat, making speech impossible. Instead, she headed for the door.

“That’s right, Hailey. Run away. It’s what you do best!”

 His words stopped her, and she twisted back. “I what?”

“Run. Away. When the pieces of your life don’t come together like a neat little puzzle, you scatter them all around you and stomp out of the room.”

She bristled at the venom in his voice. “That’s not what happened.”

 “Oh, no. You handled it so well, just breezed out of town with no concern for those you left behind.”

 They weren’t talking about her father or her house anymore. This was about how she’d reacted eight years ago, when the feelings got too real.

Just like they were now.

 “I care, dammit!” She let out a long exhale. “I always have.”

Constance Phillips lives in Ohio with her husband, daughter, and four canine kids.  Her son, now on his own, is planning a wedding, reconfirming that romance still lives and breathes.

When not writing stories of finding and rediscovering love, Constance and her husband spend hours planning a cross-country motorcycle trip for the not-so-distant future... if they can find a sidecar big enough for the pups.

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#Excerpt from DownBeat (Biting Love #7) by Mary Hughes #Paranormal #Romance #Giveaway

Downbeat
(Biting Love, Book 7)
by:  Mary Hughes


Publication: Samhain Publishing, Ltd. (Mar. 4, 2014)
ISBN:  91619218758
ASIN:  B00GN98BV2
Length:  311 pages
Genre:  Paranormal Romance



Blurb:

Striking the right note could shatter more than their hearts.

After an attack that slaughtered his family, vampire Dragan Zajicek walled off his heart and went on a sixteen-hundred-year rampage with the bad boys of history.

Now a rock star of the concert podium and master freelance spy, he's taken the baton for a small orchestra near Chicago to investigate rumors of a monstrous, undefeatable vampire dubbed the Soul Stealer.

But it's the lovely, unassuming Raquel "Rocky" Hrbek who mesmerizes him from the first touch of her luscious lips on her flute.

Rocky, a shy shadow scarred by middle school cruelty, is mystified as to why core-melting gorgeous Dragan would notice a mouse like her.  As his stolen kisses draw her dangerously close to the edge of her carefully constructed comfort zone, he exposes her secret -- she's investigating the monster herself.

As their quest draws them closer together, the monster zeroes in on the woman  Dragan's rebellious heart tells him is his mate.  Now they must find a way to destroy the indestructible before Rocky is utterly consumed.  And Chicago is bathed int he blood of innocents.

Warning: Contains a master of seduction and symphonies, an awkward and innocent flutist, small-town humor, heart-stopping action, and an exodus to Iowa.  Oh, and the cheese balls are ba-a-ack  -- and deadlier than ever.

Buy it :   Amazon   |  Barnes & Noble

“May I accompany you, Ms. Hrbek?”

 I jumped and nearly tripped. Zajicek caught my wrist to steady me. His fingers were long and slender but amazingly strong—and fiercely warm. Like iron filings to a magnet, my skin aligned instantly to him. Hot sensation juddered through me, knocking me even more off balance. I scrambled to regain my equilibrium, only to have my feet scud into one of the semi-vertical sidewalk stones. My flute bag slipped off my shoulder and nosedived into the crook of my arm, yanking me sideways. I went down.

Powerful arms wrapped around me and saved me from severe pavement burn. The arms were gentle righting me, and I stood in their comforting embrace a moment to get my breath back. A strong heart beat under my cheek. My palms pressed against warm, crisp cotton. The body under the cotton was a solid, cloth-covered cliff, so unlike my own soft limbs. I shivered.

“Are you all right, Ms. Hrbek?” Zajicek’s deep honeyed tones, tinged with amusement, came from somewhere over my head.

 “Huh?” Not the snappiest of rejoinders but I was cheek-to-massive-chest with Dragan Zajicek, the posterboy I’d had the hots for half my life.

He was definitely not pasteboard now. The longer I stood there the more I felt. Every ridge of his taut abdomen, the roped muscles of his long thighs, the poke of his belt buckle; they all became alarmingly three-dimensional. His warm breath stirred my hair. Something else stirred too, at hip level…and silent laughter rippled through him.

My brain churned. The intimate way he held me made no sense, but the laughter, well, my clumsiness had lightened the room on more than one occasion.

Then Zajicek’s long fingers slid under my chin, raising my face. His brilliant eyes were shuttered by slumberous lids. I stared in bemusement as his face expanded in my vision…

His lips found mine.

Warm. Smooth. Exciting. “Some Enchanted Evening” sang through my right brain.

My left brain locked up in utter confusion. A man was kissing me. Zajicek was kissing me. The sum of my kissing experience was a slobbery grandmother and a few rushed awkward sexual encounters. I never really saw what the fuss was about. Until Zajicek.

I always thought kisses were simply the press of lips. His mouth didn’t simply anything. It rubbed, it tasted, it gently teased. Warm, velvety soft, his tongue began to explore.

 I stood there in stupefied awe.

Until he murmured against my lips, “How clumsy you are, Ms. Hrbek. How very fortunate I was here to catch you.”

He thought I’d done it on purpose.

 I struggled out of his embrace. He was slow letting go, his fingers firm on my arms.

With a little tilt of his head, he perused me. Whatever he saw on my face made him release me with an extravagant sigh. “I beg your pardon. Apparently I misread your…desires.”

 I flushed, because he hadn’t misread my “desires” at all. Just my intentions. I jerked my flute bag onto my shoulder and started determinedly toward my car, fiercely watching my feet on the uneven sidewalk. “No biggie. What did you want, Maestro?”

Long legs kept graceful pace with me. “Call me Dragan, please. Maestro is so overused.”

 His first name? It implied an intimacy I couldn’t afford. “You call me Ms. Hrbek.”

“Yes, but perhaps you would allow me the familiarity of your first name as well?” His tone was coaxing.

I skewed a look at him, immediately returning my attention to the stones, although I was beginning to think Zajicek was more treacherous than my footing. “If you want. After all, you’ll be seeing us weekly for a while.”

“Perhaps you and I will be seeing a great deal more of each other, hmm?”

Yikes. My stomach flipped, my attention disintegrated and the elevated corner of a concrete slab cold-cocked my foot. I tripped and would have fallen again if not for Zajicek’s lightning reflexes. He caught me in his arms, steadying me. Senses reeling, I let him, my forebrain scolding idiot but my lizard brain panting and presenting its tail. Before I could completely self-combust, he brushed a thumb over my cheek and released me.

“What do you mean by that?” I croaked. Catching my flute bag to my chest, I wheeled and trotted off, fast, too fast, almost running, nearly stumbling yet again. Making a conscious effort to slow down, I cleared my throat. “Why would you see more of me than any other orchestra member?”

“I am staying in Meiers Corners for the duration of Mr. Banger’s recovery. That is what I wished to discuss with you. I have only just arrived in the area. I’d like to follow you home this evening.”

Dragan Zajicek in all his powerful, elegant glory, driving behind me? My internal meter was pinging red alert, core meltdown imminent. “You don’t need to. I can tell you how to go. It’s not that far.”

 “Perhaps. But it’s late and I would not wish to become lost.”

 I opened my mouth to say no, heard my voice say, “Oka—” and snapped my jaw shut so fast teeth sparked. Problem was, I liked being with him—which, considering I was practically wearing my heart on my sleeve, was dangerous. What if he found out his kiss was the first real one of my life, and had utterly demolished me?

“Ms. Hrbek?”

He was politely waiting for an answer. Politely, as if the whole of my pitiful ego wasn’t in the balance.

 I tried to see it from his point of view. The man wanted help getting around. A few directions, not my soul. Simple neighborliness would do. I breathed deep, and managed to rasp out, “Sure. No problem, Mr. Zajicek.”

He smiled and slipped his arm around mine. “Dragan, please.” His hip bumped against my side as we walked.

My respiration rate shot through the roof. I gritted my teeth. Simple neighborliness, yeah, right. Like your basic neighborhood raging inferno. “Okay. First names. I’m Rocky.”

 “Rocky? That’s a boy’s name.”

“It’s a nickname,” I admitted.

“Ah. And your real name?”

Yes. My “real” name.

My friend, Nixie Emerson, once told me names have power. In her case, she went by her kicky middle name instead of “Dietlinde”, her dull-as-dust first. For her, that was appropriate. Nixie was short and punk and smart as a whip—and as smart-mouthed too, though she reined it in around her new baby. In my case though, my “real” name was not appropriate. Anti-appropriate, in fact. My mom named me Raquel, after Raquel Welch, the sex-goddess of the sixties. So while Nixie’s name was right and good, mine was a joke. And considering my nega-love-life, a rather nasty one at that. “Rocky’s good enough, Mr. Zajicek.”

“Dragan,” he murmured, somehow pulling me closer. The heat of his body licked flame-like up my side. I hissed and shifted my flute bag between us, but as a defense it backfired. Zajicek simply plucked the bag from my hands. “Shall I carry that?”

“You don’t have to. No, wait—”

 “Nonsense. It is quite light.” He shifted my bag onto his own shoulder, not the one between us. The strap wrapped itself over his muscles like a second skin, and I swear it moaned happily.

Then Zajicek curled one hand around my waist and pulled me so close I could barely breathe. I tried to, really I did. But every tentative inhale brought the scent of him, cotton and sandalwood and burning masculinity. Every movement of my ribcage scraped the side of my breast against his arm, until I was trembling with the need to rub blatantly against him. Every breath drew cool air over my tongue…yikes, I was lolling like a dog in heat.

My glasses fogged up, and I stumbled again.

 Both Zajicek’s arms went around me. I felt incredibly clumsy and stupid, making him rescue me continually from my own feet. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Zajicek—”

“Dragan,” he murmured, cupping my chin and lifting my face for another soft kiss. His lips touched mine, his mouth moving in tiny circles as if to warm my skin. He didn’t need to. I was plenty warm already—and a little buzzy.

 “You taste wonderful.” His mouth opened and his tongue teased the seam of my lips.

 I jumped at the touch but Zajicek held me, so securely I relaxed into his arms. It seemed to be some sort of cue for him to lick me and slide his tongue between my lips, encouraging me to part them.

He asked so nicely, with tiny hot licks. So I did.

 The instant my mouth opened he devoured me. His mouth slanted over mine and his jaw dropped. Heat rushed in. I gasped. Shocked and a little scared, I fell back, but he stepped with me, wrapped his arm around my back and trapped me good. He had to bend quite a ways to do it.

 My back arched like a bow, my breasts crushed to his chest, my hips to his thighs. Something stirred against my belly, sending a jolt shearing through me. My mouth tingled and my breasts tingled and I was getting really tingly between my legs.

I slid my hands between us to try to wedge open some space. All I succeeded in doing was fitting my palms to the hardest pectorals in the world.

The tingling between my legs was starting to drive me insane.

Zajicek’s mouth left mine to trail licks and nibbles down my jaw to my throat. He nuzzled me there, an odd dark rumble coming from his chest, almost a lion’s purr. “You smell divine. Ah, to taste you fully.” His tongue rasped over my pulse.

Somewhere along the way his hand had found my breast and was kneading and cupping while he sucked gently on the tender skin of my neck until my head spun.

Then his fingers found my raised nipple and plucked.

A thousand Christmas lights went on in my head. I shrieked.

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[ #Excerpt + #Giveaway ] Naughty Little Christmas by Ella Sheridan #Romance

Naughty Little Christmas
by:  Ella Sheridan


Publication:  Dec. 24, 2013
ASIN:  B00HI6D4AC
Length:   198 pages
Genre:  Contemporary Romance, Holidays



Blurb: 

Harley Fisher's life changed forever when her twin sister gave birth to a baby one month before she died.  This Christmas, Harley wants her adopted daughter to have the very best gift possible:  her real father.   Determined to discover if Damien Adams is worthy of being a part of the baby's life, Harley forces her way into a job as the manager-in-training for his new nightclub, Thrice.  Damien is blunt, challenging, and sexy as all get-out.  Desiring him is wrong, but when he touches her, it's oh so right. 

Damien needs a manager for Thrice so he can return to overseeing all three of his clubs.  Harley's too young, too hip, too damn tempting --- and  perfect for the job.  Wanting her violates every rule he's laid out for his life, but even the strongest convictions can falter under the mistletoe.

Harley's keeping one hell of a secret.  When Damien finds out, will Harley and his daughter be the best Christmas gift he's ever received, or will her secrets leave them with nothing more lasting than a naughty little Christmas this year?

Buy it :  Amazon    |   Loose ID

 

“You’re who?”

Harley came very close to laughing, though she wasn’t sure if it was actual amusement or just plain nerves. George Michael’s voice crooned “Last Christmas” in her head. “Tell me, baby, do you recognize me?” It’s definitely been a year. Guess the answer’s no.

 She managed to hold back the laughter. Barely. Nerves wouldn’t get the better of her any more than Damien Adams would. She refused to allow it. Squaring her shoulders, she ignored the fact that she felt like an idiot with her hand dangling out in front of her, waiting to shake, while she faced down the man who had taken the Atlanta bar scene by storm less than a year ago. In person he was more like a blizzard, slamming into her senses, whiting out everything, including her courage. She’d always been good at faking it, though.

Ignoring his obvious impatience, she tried again. “Harley Fisher.”

The jerk stared back silently, full lips pressed tight together, a dark brow cocked up in question.

 Okay, she knew she’d interrupted him, but seriously… She raised her own brow, getting a little impatient herself and trying hard to control it. “We spoke on the phone. About the general manager’s position,” she reminded him carefully.

Damien looked at her still-extended hand; then, with casual deliberation, he crossed his arms over his wide, muscular chest. The silk of his shirt stretched to a fit that resembled plastic wrap. Pulling her gaze from the deep V of the open neck, she dropped her hand and refused to be intimidated. She needed this job, and she intended to have it.

A spark of recognition lit those river-brown eyes, and Harley swallowed hard against the heavy, dry lump in her throat until he said, “Right. You’re the one I thought was a guy.”

She caught her grimace before it could get out. Yes, her name was unusual. She was often mistaken for a man until someone saw her in person, after which they simply thought she was an airhead. Or a slut. Her youth and rocker-chick persona often worked against her in the “real” world, but it never took people—men—long to learn differently. Hopefully Mr. Slick here would be quick on the uptake.

From the look of it, she had a better chance of Santa coming down her nonexistent chimney. Raising her voice slightly to be heard over the remixed Christmas song blaring from the speakers, she said, “Yes, that Harley.” Try a smile, she told herself. “We—”

An impatient shake of his head cut off her words. “I believe I told you we were looking for someone more”—his gaze slid slowly down her body and back up—“more.”

More what, for God’s sake? More ready to jump into bed with him? A strong urge to put her leather jacket back on, as if she were still out in the Atlanta winter cold, bit into her. And pissed her off. Maybe she’d made a mistake in coming here. Damien obviously wasn’t the man she’d thought he would be, the man she needed.

No, give it a chance. This is too important to be making rash decisions. He can afford to; you can’t.

She dug her fingernails deep into her palms and wished her soon-to-be boss wasn’t quite such an ass.

Or quite so sexy. Looking at him heated her body in a way that had nothing to do with the anger she was feeling. The reaction shook her. Of course, Sonny’d always had good taste in men.

Which was definitely not why Harley was here.

Pain tingling in her palms from the digging of her nails, she forced herself to hold his stare. “Mr. Adams, simply because I’m young—and female—doesn’t mean I’m not the right person for the job. If you could just take a look over my résumé one more time—”

“I’ve seen what I needed to see, Ms. Fisher,” he said, voice dropping to little more than a growl. “I own three very successful clubs in three cities hundreds of miles apart. Traveling between them means leaving someone else in charge, someone with the experience and expertise to work independently, wisely, and efficiently. It means I must trust that person implicitly with my livelihood and that of my employees. Being Thrice’s general manager requires more than a familiarity with the bar.” That insulting look returned to his eyes, implying various ways she might’ve gained such knowledge that had nothing to do with her brains.

Oh, he so did not go there.

“So what you’re saying is, a woman in her midtwenties, a former musician, covered in tattoos but looking reasonably attractive is by definition a lush? Or are you insinuating that I’m a whore?”

Damien stared, eyes wide with shock, as if he couldn’t believe the words that had left her mouth. Then a boyish grin transformed him from put-out businessman to dangerously naughty hunk, and the urge to let go of her anger sank its teeth deep. No way. She was not forgetting he was rude, egotistical, asinine, a dickhead…

He laughed before she could let a real hissy fit loose. The sound echoed, rich and full, blending and countering the music filling the room. It deflated the ball of emotion choking her, drew her in, made her want to mix her laugh with his. She held her breath, unable to decide if his reaction was a good or bad thing.

“Forgive me,” Damien said. A wheeze interrupted the last word, and he had to pause to get his mirth under control. “You’re right. That was uncalled for.” Like an old-world aristocrat, he bowed from the waist. His shirt draped away from his chest, giving her a glimpse of smooth, tan skin all the way to his navel. “My apologies.”

Did he plan to kiss her hand next? The man had throwing people off down to an art. And why didn’t he look ridiculous with his shirt unbuttoned down to a lick-worthy six-pack? Reminding herself of her purpose, she said warily, “Accepted. I think.”

His grin said if that was the best he could get, he’d take it. “Ms. Fisher, I appreciate your candor—and that you are willing to forgive my rudeness. But—”

She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. There always has to be a but.

“—the fact remains that a certain level of experience is necessary for this position. I’m sorry.”

 He turned to leave, and panic took over, pushing her to close the distance between them. Instinctively her hand shot out, and then she was gripping the heavy muscle of his biceps. Desperation firmed her hold when the shock of physical contact shot up her arm like a lightning bolt. He felt hot. Masculine. This close, he smelled of spice and alcohol, and she found herself breathing heavier just to take in more.

Don’t be a damn fool, Harley! Get your act together.

“Ms. Fisher—”

 Before he could blast her for detaining him, Harley firmed both her courage and her voice. “Thrice has been open how long, Mr. Adams?” When he refused to answer, she did it for him. “Six months. I’ve been involved in the Atlanta music scene for fifteen years, the last seven of which I spent not only as a musician but as an event organizer and PR rep for my band and several others.”

That got him to face her fully. “You are either older than you look, or that’s a big stretch of the truth.”

She let a smirk sneak onto her lips. “And you are more unfamiliar with your new market than I would have given you credit for. My mother rotated out of every club in town, dragging me along with her from the time I was ten so she could sing her heart out. At fifteen I became involved with the indie music scene, and three years later formed and managed my own band, Aftershock.”

At the name, Damien’s brows shot up. So much for actually reading my résumé. Anyone with even a basic knowledge of indie music had heard of Aftershock; they were one of the foremost bands in the business, not just because they were damn good musicians, but because Harley had as good of instincts in management as she did with a bass guitar. If her private life hadn’t blown all to hell, she would still be with them.

“I see.”

She could tell he didn’t like admitting he was wrong, but at least the playboy charm was darkening into something more serious, more thoughtful, without the annoyed edge he’d shown at first. Time to close the deal. “You know the national scene, no doubt about it. You know what needs to be done to make things happen in LA or Colorado. You gained that know-how through study, experience, and local help.” She fought to keep the quaver of desperation out of her words. “I can give you that here, Mr. Adams, and with far more depth and speed and with lower cost than anyone else you could hire. I know Atlanta. I know the people here. I know the nightlife and the music and the contacts to make it all happen.” She pulled in a heavy lungful of air to ease her aching chest. “I am the person for this job.”

 When the last word left her lips, she knew every ounce of her passion and determination went with it. Her lungs deflated like a balloon with a slow leak, refusing to refill as she waited for his verdict. Thinking of everything that was at stake, she willed him to listen, to see all that she could offer.

 “You’re not gonna give an inch, are you?” he finally asked.

Harley narrowed her eyes. “No, and you wouldn’t want me to. It’s exactly what you need.”

Damien’s gaze dropped to the hand still clutching his arm. Harley slowly released him, the burn of embarrassment firing her cheeks. When his mouth, that sinfully full mouth, opened to speak, she braced herself for rejection.

 “Okay.”

Ella Sheridan grew up in the middle of nowhere, otherwise known as the Deep South.  Books provided her with adventures, friends, and her first forays into romance.  To this day she explores the world through the passion.  When she's not writing or working or reading, she's corralling her two active teenagers, snuggling on the couch with her husband, working out her stress in a martial arts class, or sleeping.   But no matter what she's doing, the voices in her head just won't let her go.   You can contact Ella at her website.

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River Reckoning by Jenny Lyn

River Reckoning
by: Jenny Lyn



Publication: Evernight Publishing (Nov 6, 2013)

ASIN:  B00GJ3DHNE
Length:   276 pages
Genres: Contemporary Romance,  Romantic Suspense



Blurb:

Bond Mason's roots run deep in the backwoods hamlet of Trespass, Florida.  Nestled against the banks of the Suwannee River, the only home she's ever known holds bittersweet memories of a family long gone.  Except one of her ghosts isn't dead and possessive ex-lover James Kyle wants her back.

U.S. Deputy Marshal Nathan Gates sights are set on capturing fugitive Robert Kyle.  Wanted for cold-blooded murder of a DEA agent, Robert is suspected of being hidden away with his moonshine-brewing, marijuana-growing family of fellow lawbreakers, one of which is his brother, James.

Nathan expected high temperatures when he arrived in Trespass.  What he hadn't counted on is his searing attraction to southern beauty Bond Mason.  She winds him around her finger like a tendril of Spanish moss, but his lawman's intuition tells him she's hiding secrets too.  When he finally convinces her to talk, he's not prepared for the dark truths she reveals about her hometown.

The Suwannee is deep, but Trespass's sins run much deeper.  For once, Nathan might be over his head.

 

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I started reading when I was four, thanks to a babysitter who found the only way to get me to sit still was to put a book in my hand.  By the time I entered kindergarten, I'd blown through just about every Little Golden Book ever printed.  Ten years later, much to my mother's dismay, I found her stash of paperback romance novels.  She tried to divert me back to something more chaste by buying me Harlequins, but I still snuck copies of her Kathleen Woodiwiss's and Johanna Lindsey's when she wasn't looking.  Shanna, The Flame and the Flower, and Fires of Winter will always hold special places in my heart because they introduced me to roguish heroes, headstrong heroines, and the trouble they could get into together.

I live in a swampy little corner of north-central Florida with my family, both the two-legged and four-legged variety.  I love to read, run hot and cold in regards to cooking, and I never miss an episode of Justified, Longmire, or Dexter.  I guess I like justice in all it's various forms.



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A Perfect Holiday by Riley Murphy #Giveaway

A Perfect Holiday
by:  Riley Murphy


Publication:  Nov. 14, 2013
ISBN:  1493585940
ASIN:  B00GCRF2G2
Length:  131 pages
Genres:  Contemporary Romance, Holidays


Blurb: 

What do you get when a good girl looking to be bad is left alone over Christmas with a jaded bad boy looking to be good?  A Perfect Holiday.

It's not a matter of what could go wrong when a kindergarten teacher who's tired of living vicariously through her porn collection is virtually stranded for the weekend with Mr. Sex-on-a-stick.  It's more a question of what could go right.

Sidney Capp is tired of denying her natural desires to be the quintessential good girl her parents expect her to be.  So when the holidays arrive, and she's free of her folks breathing down her neck for the weekend?  She's drunk with power.  Probably why when the opportunity to be a little bad presents itself, she doesn't hesitate, but dives all over him.

Riker Mitchell thinks being forced into some much needed R&R for a few days is going to kill him until he inadvertently discovers his sexy but shy neighbor is secretly into watching porn on the weekends.  Apparently, he isn't the only one with erotic ideas on the brain.  Little does he know, the hottie in two B is determined to turn her sizzling dreams into a sensual reality.  On a regular day, with a regular girl, he would have been the first to sign up, but with this little innocent?   No matter how tempting it might be, he's not going to take advantage of her... unless she can persuade him to do the wrong thing.

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[ #Excerpt + #Giveaway ] A Callahan Christmas Miracle by Tina Leonard #Romance #NewRelease

A Callahan Christmas Miracle
(Callahan Cowboys #13)
by: Tina Leonard 

Publication: Harlequin American Romance (Nov. 1, 2013)
ISBN: 0373754779
ASIN: B00D4MVH6M
Length : 224 pages
Genre: Contemporary Romance




Book Description: 

Becoming a husband and family man in the middle of a raging land feud wasn't the destiny Galen Callahan saw for himself.  But once he laid eyes on Rose Carstairs, he knew the bouncy blonde with the warrior heart was his future.  Now, with Rancho Diablo under siege, the eldest Callahan sibling will do whatever it takes to protect his new wife and triplets.

Except Rose refuses to be protected!  No husband of hers can stop her from fighting by his side while keeping their newborn sons out of the line of fire.  With Callahan lives and legacy on the line, Galan has a new mission : to vanquish a dangerous enemy and bring his family together in time for Christmas.

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Galen Chacon Callahan looked over Rancho Diablo, where dark smoke filled the sky above the canyons with smudges of black. He put his binoculars to his eyes, studying the smoke as it grew and thickened. 

He turned as his sister, Ashlyn, drove up in the jeep. “It’s not a wildfire,” she said. 

“No.” Rancho Diablo was safely separated from the fire by the canyons, but if someone was sending up signals near the expansive ranch, it would be a message the Callahans couldn’t ignore. “It’s the land Storm Cash has offered to sell us.” 

“I know. I wonder if the elderly farmer who sold that land to Storm still lives there.” She studied Galen’s face. “Think we should ride over and check on him?” 

“I’ll call the sheriff. He can alert the proper authorities. I think it’s best if we stay out of it for now.” He was troubled by the fire, and an uneasy feeling was growing in the pit of his stomach. “I’m heading back.” 

“I’ll stay here a bit longer.” 

“Got your gun?” Galen asked, knowing full well that Ash could take care of herself. He could order her back to the ranch—should order her—but she’d just ignore him. Probably give him a blistering retort to send him on his way as well. 

“When do I not have my gun?” Ash didn’t even bother to glance at him. Her eyes were glued to the horizon. 

“Don’t go over there.” 

“I won’t. Quit fussing. You’re like a mother hen.” Ash finally turned to look him in the eye. “By the way, the new agents are at the house, waiting for you to interview them.” 

“New agents?” 

“The ones to replace Ana and River. Jace lined them up every hour on the hour for interviews. Remember we agreed we needed new agents? Sawyer Cash can’t handle everything on her own. And anyway,” Ash muttered under her breath, though he could plainly hear every word of her complaint, “I’m not exactly sure she’s capable of handling anything.” 

He’d listened to all the negative things the Callahan clan said about Sawyer, and he couldn’t say there wasn’t real reason for concern. She was Storm Cash’s niece, after all, and they’d never been certain if they could trust their wily neighbor. He always seemed to be in the wrong place at the right time. “Maybe we’re just being suspicious,” Galen said. 

“There’s no such thing as too much caution.” 

“I know. I’m heading off. Be careful. Don’t invite trouble.” Even though he knew Ash was more than capable of protecting not just herself, but the ranch, Galen couldn’t help leaving his sister with that warning before riding toward Rancho Diablo’s main house. After last month, when their aunt Fiona blew up Uncle Wolf’s hideout in Montana, he and his brothers had decided that the women in their family had earned their stripes. They could more than take care of themselves. Ash, like the rest of them, had been in the military, a trained operative. She was as tough as any male Callahan. Tougher, maybe. And so he and his five brothers had finally decided that their overprotective attitude toward their baby sister was accomplishing nothing and was detrimental to their family harmony. 

Ash had never listened to anyone’s concerns, anyway. Like Fiona, and the women who’d married into the Callahan family, she did what she wanted—which was mostly chase Xav Phillips, a family employee who rode the canyons and kept an eye out for trespassers. 

Galen was pretty sure Ash caught him on occasion, too. 

He was so busy pondering the smoke in the canyons and his platinum-haired baby sister that he almost missed the rider heading his way. A brunette he didn’t recognize rode up on a gray horse. 

“Hi,” she said, smiling, as if it was every day strange women appeared at Rancho Diablo. 

“Hello?” He swallowed, peering into the dark green eyes smiling at him from under a white cowgirl hat. 

Her smile turned sweeter, somehow sexy. Galen tried to pull his brain back from the alluring abyss into which it was threatening to fall. “My name’s Somer Stevens. I’m here to apply for the agent position.” 

“I believe the agents are supposed to be waiting for their interviews up at the house.” 

“There are ten candidates over there right now. It’s not every day that an opening comes up for a position at Rancho Diablo.” Somer winked conspiratorially. “I figured I’d better take a look around before I decided whether I belong here or not.” 

He frowned. “My brothers were going to show everyone around.” 

“Yes, but if I’d waited for the canned tour, I wouldn’t have gotten to speak to you directly.” 

Direct. Assertive. These were valuable traits in someone working for the Callahans. Most likely he would’ve done the same thing, if he’d been in her shoes. But he wasn’t, and he was going to let her know that stroking his ego wasn’t going to get her anywhere. 

This one wasn’t getting the job. Somer didn’t follow directions, and she made him sweat. She wore dark blue pants and a blue jacket, all very proper for an interview; she had a great horse and a lot of attitude, yet something told him Somer was nothing but trouble. 

And he never ignored his instincts. 

* 

 Unusual moment number two of Galen’s day was when he walked into the massive den at Rancho Diablo, looking for Fiona and the others. He wanted to corral his brothers into the upstairs library, where they always held their meetings, so he could set a game plan before they began interviewing. Galen wanted to apprise his brothers of Somer’s tactic, and make certain she didn’t win her way into the job by pulling the same thing on them that she had on him. 

He gawked at the woman sitting demurely in the den, recognizing her from one of Fiona’s many Christmas balls in Diablo. She wore a gypsy costume and flashed a big smile he found irresistible. “I believe I know you.” 

“I’m Rose Carstairs.” She shook his hand, and it was crazy how much he enjoyed feeling her small hand in his. “You were there the night Dante was raffled off. Will it be your turn this year?” 

He found himself transfixed by her costume, which consisted of a flouncy black skirt that fell to her knees, a fluffy white blouse, lots of dangling chains around her neck and huge hoop earrings. She wore many thin bracelets, and her blond hair was swept up in a bouncy ponytail, topped by a red rose. “That’s some outfit you’re wearing.” 

“I’m here to apply for the bodyguard position.” 

Galen laughed. “You don’t look the type.” 

“Isn’t that the point?” 

He watched her full lips curve into a smile. Appreciated the sparkle in her blue eyes. “I don’t see how you’d blend into the background, gorgeous.” 

“Hello, Galen,” Aunt Fiona said, bustling into the den. “Don’t stand there monopolizing the talent, please. You have interviews waiting.” 

“The talent?” He looked at Rose. 

“I see you’ve met Rose,” Fiona said. “She’s applying for the nanny position.” 

“Ah. The nanny position.” Galen took a second look at her shapely calves, her flat black, practical shoes, and the laughter in Rose’s eyes. “I should have known.” 

“Come on, dear,” Fiona said, “before Galen hires you to be his personal bodyguard. Goodness, Galen, get a move on. You need to change, look like a respectable employer.” 

Rose grinned at him. “Good luck.” 

“Good luck to you. Nice to meet you, Rose.” He went off, forcing himself not to watch her curvy backside as she followed Fiona out of the room. It was clear his aunt was interested in hiring her. He didn’t think his brothers would get a thing done with Rose around. The scenery would be just too tempting. 

Then it occurred to him that he and Jace were the only bachelors left at Rancho Diablo. Sawyer was doing her best to monopolize Jace, though Galen wasn’t certain how effective her barrage of attention was on his brother’s single status. 

But that left him as the lone available Callahan. The Lone Ranger of Rancho Diablo.  

Neither Rose nor Somer might make the cut with his five brothers and headstrong sister. His brothers were dumb as woolly mammoths, and his sister, well, Ash was unpredictable at best. Her mind stayed on Xav Phillips. She could go thumbs-up or thumbs-down on either woman. Plus there were a number of other applicants. 

He was thumbs-way-up-high on Rose. 

He’d just let the situation develop and hope that Rose and her playful, kid-friendly gypsy costume were voted yes by the family council. There was something so sexy and darling about a woman who came dressed to play. 

Jace followed Galen into the upstairs library for the meeting.. “Did you see that woman from the Christmas ball year before last showed up?” 

“I did.” Galen ignored his brother while he dug through some paperwork. “Let’s lay out our battle plan. We need a new strategy, or have to improve on the old one. Something has to change.” 

“I might ask her out,” Jace said. “You know, she’s from Tempest. Not that far down the road—and we’ve got family and friends there. Our cousins have the Dark Diablo ranch in Tempest. It’s a nice place. And Rose is probably a real nice gal. Looks like it, anyway.” He grinned at his brother.

Galen hesitated, suddenly losing interest in the stack of papers. “Why?” 

“She’s hot as an oven, dude.” 

Galen swallowed. “Poetic.” 

“I know, right?” Jace grinned, pleased with his announcement. “If Fiona hires her, I’m definitely going to think about it.” 

“I almost hate to ask, and we do have greater matters to discuss other than your love life, but don’t you and Sawyer have kind of a secret thing going on?” 

Jace shrugged. “If it’s a secret, why are you asking? And no, we don’t. Sawyer is a pretty girl. That’s all. I think she flirts with all the guys. She’d probably flirt with you, if you’d unbend.” 

Galen decided he didn’t care about Jace’s love life. “Whatever.” 

“Why? Do you want to ask Rose out?” 

“No, I don’t.” Damn straight I do. 

“Because if you want to,” Jace said, like a dog with a juicy bone, “I wouldn’t stand in the way. I wouldn’t want to make you look bad. You’re not getting any younger, old-timer.” 

“As if you could make me look bad.” Galen glanced toward the door. “Where’s the rest of the team?” 

“I think they saw the other candidates and stopped to chat. I, on the other hand, stick to the assignment.” Jace poured himself a whiskey with a huge grin. “What’s up with your face, bro? Look like you have a stomachache. Need a soother?” He waved the bottle Galen’s way.

“I do not need a soother.” He sat on a sofa, dismissing his brother, and pondered what he should say about Somer. She’d definitely gone after the job, and he felt vaguely uneasy about her aggressiveness. He was the eldest Callahan, a doctor, a man who believed that fate and hard work brought many gifts. Why should Somer bother him so much? 

“One of the candidates took off by herself to tour the ranch,” Galen said. 

“Oh.” Jace seated himself at the opposite end of the sofa. “The tall, hot brunette? I think I heard Fiona tell her to go let her horse have some exercise. She pointed her in your direction, knowing the two of you would meet up. Fiona would never send a female onto the ranch without protection, but she knew you were on your way back, and that Ash was out there, too.” 

Now that made more sense. Aunt Fiona’s fey mind at work, probably culling the tempting beauties from the herd and dangling them in front of the remaining single Callahans. “Why’d she bring her own horse?” 

“Probably because she’d be expected to ride here? This is a ranch, you know.”

It all sounded reasonable. 

“Gorgeous piece of flesh, if you ask me.” Jace’s grin was so irritating Galen wished he could bean him one across the head as he had when they were children. He’d given up beaning his siblings when they went off to boot camp. 

“Are you planning on asking her out or not?” Galen asked.

Jace gave him an annoyed look. “The horse was a gorgeous piece of horseflesh,” he said, emphasizing the word as if Galen were stupid. Then he grinned again. “Galen, my brother, has a woman finally walked into your path that stirs your quiet, hard-to-reach soul?” 

“No,” he said, thinking, Yes, that petite blonde with big eyes, but I’m not about to give you anything to crow about. 

The rest of their brothers filed in, as well as Ash, whose grin was big as the quarter moon. 

“What’s going on with the fire?” Galen asked her. 

“Sheriff says he’s got men over there checking it out. We’ll know soon enough.” 

He studied his brothers, grateful that he’d been able to keep them on the right path, the path of men committed to the fight. Strong, brave, true. Of course, Grandfather Running Bear had set the path for all of them. When their parents had gone away from the tribe, Galen returned home from his medical studies and raised his brothers and sister. They’d been a headstrong bunch, fierce and courageous. All of them had opted to join the military—and then retired to quiet lives. Then Running Bear had reached out with his astonishing instructions that they come to Rancho Diablo and protect cousins they’d never known they had. Protect a heritage they’d never known was theirs. 

That decision had been the turning point that marked them all, and changed their lives. 

“Excuse me,” Fiona said. Their aunt poked her head into the library. “I know the family meetings are sacred, but Rose is about to head back to Tempest. Are there any objections to her being hired on here?” 

Jace looked at him. “Yes, Galen, are there any objections?” 

Galen grimaced. “Why would I care who is hired as a nanny here? I don’t have children.” 

“Well, you always seem to have an opinion about everything, relevant or not,” Fiona replied. “And you’ve met Rose before, so I just wanted to make certain there’d be no awkwardness. Awkwardness is bad when we all live as closely as we do.” 

His frown deepened. “Why would I feel awkward around Rose? I barely know her.” The rest of the family was quick to sense that something was in the air. 

“Are we roasting Galen about something, Aunt Fiona?” Ash asked. 

“No. Just making sure his highness is consulted about the new hires.” Fiona looked pleased with her jibe. 

“Ah,” Dante said, “you’re trying not to get on his bad side by hiring Rose.” He nodded wisely, as if he understood the entire situation. Galen felt pretty much in the dark. “So, Galen, what do you think about the new girl?” 

Galen cleared his throat, realizing his family had him pinned against the wall. If he let on that he did have a weakness for Rose, there would be incessant teasing and subtle ribbing. “I couldn’t care less who is hired on at Rancho Diablo.” He pondered his words for a moment. “Though I do admit I’m not certain about Somer Stevens,” and everyone said, “Ah!”

He sighed. “I guess I couldn’t convince you that there’s just something about her that puts me off. It’s not personal.” He glared around the room at all the smiling faces. “Never mind. I don’t care who gets hired. Can we get on to planning how to beef up security?” 

They moved on with the meeting, shooting him a few knowing looks, sizing up his mood in a way that family does when they know you’ve got something on your mind. His family did know him, very well, but on the matter of his heart, Galen preferred to remain an enigma. 

Then he could romance Rose without his family observing every single move he made, the way they had with his brothers when they were courting. Of course, Galen did the same thing to them, which was why he had no desire to have the matchmaking tongs applied to him. Once his family had you in their sights, the well-meaning interference never ended. 

If Rose accepted the position, he’d begin to plan a different strategy, called Romancing the Nanny. 

 He didn’t want to be the Lone Ranger of Rancho Diablo for the rest of his life. 

“What are you grinning about, bro?” Tighe asked, and Galen shook himself from his daydream of Rose’s delightful curves and big smile. “Look like you had something sweet on your mind.”

“Just wondering how you dolts ever ended up with women. Proceed.” He waved a hand imperiously. “Let’s hear all your plans for securing this ranch, especially if that fire over there was set by our renegade uncle Wolf. Because if it can happen across the canyons, it most certainly can happen at Rancho Diablo. And I refuse to allow the work of our father and Uncle Jeremiah to go up in smoke.”

USA Today bestselling and award-winning author Tina Leonard writes with humor, sexiness, and fun.  With over 2.6 million books sold, she plans to keep writing books readers enjoy.  Her writing schedule keeps her very busy with independent heroines and the heroes who love them.

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