Dee is giving away an ebook of Naval Maneuvers and a $10 Amazon card to giveaway during the tour. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win. You may find the tour locations here https://goo.gl/PNbaF9
About Only A Good Man Will Do:
Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that! Daniel Goodman is a man on a mission. For years he has striven for perfection, fighting for the pinnacle achievement in his world of academia, Headmaster of Westover Academy. Westover, established before the American Revolution, is still one of the most prestigious schools in the country. They accept only boys whose parents fit a certain mold and only those teachers who hold to a stringent set of mores, on and off campus. Jonah considers his brother a prig. Daniel sees himself as doing his best to serve his students. How much better can he serve them as headmaster? That is what he seeks to find out. Suddenly, into his cut and dried, strictly black and white life of moral and upright behavior, comes Eve Star, formerly one of Europe’s foremost exotic dancers. Her life is anything but cut and dried, black and white. Bad enough that she’s enrolled her son in Westover Academy under false pretenses. More, she runs the town’s most disreputable bar. Worst, much to Daniel’s dismay, he finds himself drawn to her like a kid to chocolate. Nothing good can come of this attraction. Or can it? He is after all, a good man.
“Daniel, am I talking to myself, here?” “Oh, no, I’m…” He chuckled an amused admission. “Tell me what you said again.” He could almost hear Eve smile. “I said, you called at four-thirty on Saturday and Sunday, so I took a wild leap that you would today, too.” “Ah.” Smiling to the empty room, he squirmed to get into a more comfortable position. “A woman of logic.” “Absolutely. You don’t want to play me in chess. I think five or six moves ahead.” “I’ll remember that. There’s nothing worse than seeing a guy cry when he’s been beaten at chess by a girl.”
~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~ About the Author:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex. Writing was so much fun Dee decided to keep at it. That’s how she spends her days. Her nights? Well, she’s lucky that her dream man, childhood sweetheart, and long-time hubby are all the same guy, and nights are their secret. For romance ranging from sweet to historical, contemporary to paranormal and more join Dee on Nomad Authors. Contact Dee at email@example.com.
On some level, I’ve always known I had a “type”. A particular look that appeals to me somewhat more than others, one I’m more likely to develop a celebrity crush on, one I’m more likely to draw on when creating the hero of my latest story. While I’d love to pepper this post with examples of my said type, I can’t do so without violating a ton of copyright laws, so you’re going to have to settle for links if you can’t picture who I mean. 🙂
For the purposes of this post, I’m limiting myself to male actors, but the same is true of women, too. There’s a certain look that appeals to me. One day, I’ll do the female version of this post.
That’s not to say I don’t find a wide number of men and women attractive–I do! But I think somewhere along the line I imprinted on a certain type, and that’s the one that makes me do a double-take every time. Mostly, I fall in love with characters, and if the actor portraying them happens to hit my buttons, all the better. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell which comes first. More often, it’s the combination.
What started me thinking about this was a thread on Twitter the other day. You should check it out–the photos–and comments with them–are fantastic. My favorite one is the description posted with the corresponding images: God took a cigarette break after he made Robert Redford.
This prompted me to share on the thread my own standout celebrity crush from the 1970s–Richard Hatch. I’ve always been a big sci-fi fan, and I fell hard for Captain Apollo on Battlestar Galactica. There were the posters on the bedroom walls, there was the fanfic I wrote with my best friend (though we had no idea that’s what it was called). I read all the tie-in novels, and when the show was cancelled, watched anything and everything a cast member was even remotely involved with–including the excruciating Galactica 1980.
I was pleasantly surprised when at least 60 people liked my Tweet about Hatch–but was even more surprised when I woke up to my inbox exploding with notifications. At last count, over 300 people have liked the Tweet. Given some of the comments, I wasn’t the only middle-schooler who swooned over him.
It got me thinking about my celebrity crushes over time, and the type of hero (both in terms of the physical and personality) I like to create. I guess I’m not really about the bad boys when it comes down to it. I see the appeal, but I want someone who will respect me–and my heroine–in the end.
But Holy Hannah, I must have imprinted on a specific type early on. Was it David Cassidy who set the bar for me in The Partridge Family? I know I had my mom buy the albums… Definitely Richard Hatch in BSG–and it was years before I crushed on someone as hard as Captain Apollo again.
When I think about the actors who exemplify my type, they almost always have light eyes and dark, messy hair. Joe Flanigan from Stargate Atlantis. David Tennant from Doctor Who. Karl Urban from Almost Human and the new Star Trek movies. Hugh Jackman (especially from Real Steel). And yes, I see the recurring sci-fi theme as well.
That’s not to say I haven’t a thing for Chris Evans (c’mon, who doesn’t have a thing for Chris Evans?), but for the most part, the plethora of Chrises in Hollywood has me very appreciative without ringing any of my bells. And while I could add Sir Patrick Stewart, Idris Elba, and Alan Rickman to my list, they are more the exceptions than the rule.
This morning, as I lay in bed checking out my Twitter notifications, it dawned on me just how much my sleeping husband met my “type” criteria–to the point of seeing a marked resemblance to Richard Hatch. I pointed this out to him, and he’s been teasing me ever since. All I know is when I first saw him, I thought, “Wow, he’s cute!” And the rest is history.
So do you have a type? Can you look back at your crushes and see a pattern? Is it a certain look or more of a type of character played? I want to know!
Not to worry–I’m not going to be slamming you with posts. But I did want to share with you my news! Ghost of a Chance and the Redclaw Security series have both been nominated for awards in the 2018 PRG Reviewer’s Choice Awards! Voting began Jan 19th and will run through Jan 29th. Winners will be announced by Jan 31.
If you’d like to vote, go here. You can only vote once. If you’d like to vote for Ghost of a Chance, I’d greatly appreciate it! (I doubt anyone knows I exist!)
If you’re not familiar with the Paranormal Romance Guild, you should check them out! Every paranormal romance author should consider joining the Guild–they have so much to offer! They review books, schedule book tours, offer connections between those seeking beta readers and critique services, and have all kinds of workshops and forums. Don’t write paranormal romance? They’ll review romance novels from any genre! (I know, I questioned that myself, but I asked and they are happy to do so!) You can join as a free (reader) membership or as a paid member. They also have a Facebook group–Sundays are promo days—and Facebook page.
I love their year-end awards list because it is a great place to find new-to-me reads. So I was tickled to death when I got the email notifying me of the nomination! It’s definitely an honor to be among such great authors and terrific stories. Even if you’re not inclined to vote, you should check out the list of nominees. You’ll find some great reads there!
For over three hundred years, Ward C. Wolf has hidden his true nature, that of a werewolf. Bitten in a frenzy of sexual excitement, he’s cursed for an eternity.
It’s 2018. Wolf is rich. He’s successful and has finally come to terms with his inner beast. He’s decided to reveal to the world that monsters do exist. He’s chosen his interviewer carefully, Theresa Cappiato, a smart, sassy, and attractive young woman. She’s the perfect candidate because she harbors an inner power that might even match his own.
“An exceptional read that delves into the past and the beginning of the werewolf Ward C. Wolf…..Remarkable work, as always from this author and I thoroughly enjoyed this well written story that will captivate you and hold you in it’s spell until you reach the very end. The characters are wonderfully written and very well defined, and a bit complex…I loved this book and I cannot recommend it highly enough!” ~ Kathy Rouchelle
“HOLY MOLY… I am not sure what I was expecting when I read the title of the book but I must admit this was a totally wonderful erotic surprise. The book is very well written to the point if you’re a non-believer of the shifter world or they really aren’t your reading thing, you just might change your mind. Mr. Radcliff’s unique flare for words and his amazing imagination will have you glued to the pages, not to mention his erotic style of writing will have your toes curling and wanting a Ward C. Wolf of your very own….Kudo’s Mr. Radcliff for a phenomenal read. It’s a quick sexy read that I highly recommend readers grab up ASAP. 2 Thumbs Up and 5 Howling stars for Interview with a Wolf.”
About the Author:
Ethan Radcliff grew up in New York. Writing has always been a pastime of his, along with sports.
He enjoys writing all genres, including erotic poetry.
At this time of year, there are a lot of blog posts about getting fit, losing weight, joining a gym, etc. Especially after several solid weeks of overindulgence over the holidays, and the prospect of starting clean with the New Year, many of us formulate grandiose resolutions about reclaiming the bodies of our youth–even if we never had the ‘best’ body before. Even if we never share these resolutions out loud. It’s a promise we make to ourselves. This time, this year will be better than the last. And part of being better means looking our best, right?
For years I’ve been muttering about needing to clean up my diet. Yes, I need to lose some weight–my BMI has crept up into the ‘overweight’ category–but because that weight is evenly distributed and because I am a relatively active person, I didn’t give it much thought unless I needed to get into a swimsuit–and I could find lots of reasons to avoid doing that. Heartburn and digestive issues were annoyances that made me consider changing my eating habits more than once, but my hectic work schedule made it more important for me to to grab something fast and portable than to choose a more healthy meal. The critical thing was to keep going, keep moving. Work at the pace demanded of me.
I wasn’t going to give up an entire afternoon a week of my precious time toward meal prep. I’m a terribly picky eater, so meal services tend to be a waste of money for me. My weight wasn’t keeping me from doing the things I needed to do–in fact, most people looked askance at me when I said I needed to drop some weight, and so I kept putting off doing anything about my health and eating habits until my body said, “No more.”
First it was caffeine. I had to stop drinking any caffeinated drinks about 5 years ago. A cup of tea would send my BP through the roof. Now I’m at the point where I can’t even have a piece of chocolate without a corresponding rise in BP. Are you weeping in sympathy? Because giving up caffeine was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
Until I had to give up wine. Yep. One glass of my favorite red makes my BP skyrocket now. I said goodbye to all alcohol recently because it’s just not worth it: feeling as though the beast from Alien is going to burst through your chest at any moment for at least 24 hours after a single glass.
I’ve had workups out the whazoo–including a stress test I passed with flying colors. I’m on medication, and it was working at first. But now the BP is creeping up even on meds. I know that BP can be controlled with diet and exercise, as well as meditation and stress management–and I am working on those things. But I’m resistant to change when it comes to food.
Most of my research indicates that I’m not alone in my struggles with blood pressure–more than 33% of Americans over the age of 40 have hypertension. And though no one in my family has had a stroke or heart attack until they were in their late seventies or eighties, having hypertension definitely increases that risk for me.
I’m also suspicious I could be sliding toward metabolic syndrome. I don’t fit all the parameters, but some of them are there, and honestly, I think given the typical American diet, more of us are at risk than you’d think.
I’ve spent the last few weeks examining the salt content of most packaged foods, and it’s enough to curl your hair. Rice is pretty healthy, right? Salmon, kale, and rice–not a bad dinner by any means. Only that flavored rice packet my husband loves so much contains 45% of the daily recommended allowance of salt. And that whole grain oat cereal that’s gluten free, high in fiber, and comes in those tasty little “o” shapes? 6% of your RDA.8% if you add milk.
Many people believe that it is just as important to restrict sugar as salt when it comes to BP, and if you factor in insulin resistance and metabolic syndrome, it makes sense.
Then there is stress. I figure my adrenal glands–which produce the “flight or fight” hormone cortisol–are probably the size of cantelopes right now. My work environment is incredibly stressful, and I’ve had a lot of personal loss over the past couple of years, so I recently made the decision to seek counseling. The first session was productive, if for no other reason than to have someone outside your family blink and say, “What the hell, man?” when they hear your story.
But all these measures have failed to maintain my BP in the normal range and my anxiety about it isn’t helping. So now it is time to finally get serious about changing my diet. No more grabbing cookies or donuts from the break room when the workload gets too hectic. No more fast food lunches. No more relying on prepacked meals or frozen pizza because I’m too damned tired to cook anything (and am a terrible cook to boot) when I get home at night. I’ve got to go clean, which means fresh, non-processed, made-from-scratch, low salt, low carb, low sugar.
I gotta tell you–when you’ve lost so much, when you’re dealing with chronic pain and high stress, you come to rely on your damned rewards. Snagging a cookie from the break room is a reward for surviving a bad encounter with a client or an energy boost to get you through the next five hours of work. A glass of wine when you finally get to sit down to watch some television is a pat on the head for a fulfilling another long day of responsibilities and very little credit for doing so. Popping a pizza in the oven that will present you with hot bread, melted cheese, and spicy sauce in less than 17 minutes is a lifesaver when you’ve hit maximum decision fatigue. Recently, I mentioned to my husband that giving up chocolate, wine, cookies, and bread wasn’t going to make me live longer. It would just seem like it.
At the time, I thought of this as a funny take on a crappy situation. “Oh look, she still has her sense of humor!”
The thing is, I’ve been resenting like hell having to make these changes. I think I’ve been taking the wrong attitude about this, though. The fact I can tell when my BP is up (even if I don’t know why) means I’m in tune with my body. That’s a good thing. I can use that to my advantage. Hypertension won’t be a silent killer in my case because I know it’s there and can take steps to manage it.
And I’m determined to do just that.
So relax–this blog won’t turn into a series of before and after images, with constant updates on my miraculous weight loss or stats on my progress. I probably will share my adventures in cooking because I really am a horrible cook–and I can use any advice or tips you guys see fit to offer. I’m seriously considering getting an Instant Pot, though I’m hesitant because I hear there is a learning curve. What I intend to post here is about baby steps into a healthier me.
Because part of loving who we are is accepting what we cannot change and changing what we can. There may be quite a few things in my life I can’t change right now, but my eating habits aren’t among them. That I can fix.
I missed a golden opportunity to post last week about my favorite day of the year: Christmas Eve. While Halloween is fun (I love dressing up, and who doesn’t love candy?) Christmas Eve has long held the number one spot for me as far as favorite days of the year. There’s all the lead up to it: the decorations, the shopping, the Christmas songs on the radio, the holiday baking, watching the holiday-themed movies, wrapping presents… I love Christmas Eve because of all the days of the year, it has the most potential, the most expectant hope and joy for the future. I think I love the promise of Christmas Eve more than I love Christmas Day itself.
But Christmas Eve came and went without me commenting on it this year. No big deal. I made cookies, watched movies, and opened presents with the family. It was good.
Now we are entering the time period I like the least of the entire year–the run up to New Year’s Eve.
I dislike New Year’s Eve for many reasons–I’m noise-sensitive and dislike loud holidays in general. I don’t enjoy crowds, I’m not a party-girl, and I have dogs–who also cower during noisy holidays. Shield me from the fireworks and blaring horns. If I do stay up past midnight, it’s because I’m engrossed in a good book and don’t want to put it down just yet.
But I also dislike the year-end retrospectives. Guess what, you’re about to turn another year older. Here’s who died in the past year. Here’s what happened in the world. Here’s what I accomplished in 2018. Cheers to 2019. Rah, rah.
I guess I dislike these kinds of posts because they place such emphasis on the posts we’re already making: trips we’ve taken, achievements in our careers, heck, what we had for lunch today. The end-of-year period has frequently been disappointing to me because I didn’t lose 30 pounds, win the lottery, travel extensively, get nominated for a major award or hit the bestseller list. Somehow, sitting down to figure out what I did achieve stresses how little I got done besides get up, work ten hours, and come home. Day after day.
So yeah, New Year’s Eve doesn’t make the top ten list of favorite holidays. Not even close.
Only this year, as I was answering emails from various people, one of my friends shared a New Year’s Eve tradition that beats the heck out of partying too hard or sitting in front of the TV waiting for the ball to drop. She said she gets together with friends and everyone writes down something they want to leave behind from 2018–as well as what they wish for themselves in 2019–and burn the paper in a bonfire.
I love this idea.
I’ve been spending some time considering what I’d leave behind. Fear, certainly. Depression. A feeling of hopelessness, the sense that it is all downhill from here and that the best of my life is behind me. Sorrow and grief, twin anchors that have been crippling me these past few years. Self-doubt, a silent killer that has been sabotaging dreams and plans as long as I can remember.
What I wish for is a little harder. I’m not used to picturing what I want–I’ve become too good at imagining worst-case scenarios instead. But I’d definitely wish for a return of health–both mental and physical–even it it means having to work at it. Laugh at myself and with others. Put worry behind me–never once has it made a positive difference in my life, it has only done damage. Refill my creative well and dip from its clear, cold water every day. Shut the door on envy and resentment.
Not just merely exist, but actually live.
For the first time in memory, I’m actually looking forward to New Year’s Eve.
How about you? How do you celebrate the end of one year and the beginning of the next?
I get a kick of out writing about different time periods. I love the research, the total immersion in the culture and mindset of the time. Sometimes that’s easier to do than others–Regency society is so far removed from our day to day life now I believe I’d be hard-pressed to make the total immersion method work–but I do enjoy reading books such as What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew. And while they aren’t accurate, a plunge into Georgette Heyer’s books, or watching just about any adaptation of a Jane Austen novel can help you get a feel of time period. Of course, the period in question is more than just the little sliver you’re going to discover without an in-depth dive into research, but it’s a start.
When I wrote a story that took place in the the summer of 1940, I found myself obsessing over the details of the period, to the extent that I read all kinds of books on the subject, watched documentaries, and rented movies either made at that time or depicted that time. When I finally sat down to write the story, the words just flowed out o me. In some ways, it felt like I was watching a movie in my head as I wrote
I adore that feeling.
Previously, I wrote about the fun of researching slang of the 1950s for my WIP, Bishop Takes Knight. Today, I’d like to share a little about the movies I’m watching. For the purposes of the story, I’m limiting myself to movies that took place before 1955, which is a bit of a bummer, since there are some terrific movies I have to leave out. While Godzilla was released in Japan in 1954, it wasn’t released in North America until 1956, which means I can’t have my characters watch it–nor can I have them refer to the sublime Forbidden Planet, which was also released in 1956. If you have never seen Forbidden Planet, beg, borrow, or steal a copy. For a ‘cheesy’ 1950s sci-fi movie, it is amazing. Both of these films would have been fun to reference, and especially useful to the story. As it was, I had to have one character mention the Japanese version of the film and tell the others what the movie was about.
But in general terms, there are some terrific movies out there that suit my purposes well. For getting a feel of the 1950s, there’s nothing like indulging in Roman Holiday. Audrey Hepburn shines in the role of the sheltered princess who kicks over the traces and goes on an unlicensed jaunt during a royal tour. Gregory Peck is perfect as the jaded ex-pat American journalist who collects Hepburn like a stray kitten off a park bench and then fights with his conscience as to whether to protect Hepburn or get the story of a lifetime. Neither expects to fall in love along the way. I confess, both my heroine and hero pull some traits from the leads in this film.
For sheer joyful exuberance, there’s 1952’s Singing in the Rain. It has to be one of my all-time favorite Gene Kelly movies. Not just one of the best movies of the decade, it’s now considered one of the top 50 movies of all time. How can you resist the story of a pair of headliners of silent films making the transition to talkies–only to discover one half of the team doesn’t have the voice for it? When new talent Kathy Selden does the voice overs, Lina Lamont’s screechy tones are mercifully hidden from her fans. But it’s the fantastic dancing and singing by Debbie Reynolds and Gene Kelly that earn this film its place in cinematic history. While it is set in 1927, the film has 1950s production values stamped all over it. It is the musical all others must measure up to. From Singing in the Rain, I gleaned the rhythm of snappy banter, and the intimacy that late night brainstorming sessions can create.
One of the most frighteningly intense movies I’ve ever seen has to be Hitchcock’s Rear Window. Face it, Hitchcock owned the 50s. Some think his 1959 outing Vertigo is his best, but for sheer nail-biting anxiety, the last thirty minutes of 1954’s Rear Window is hard to beat. Jimmy Stewart plays the likable “Jeff” Jeffries–a photographer housebound due to a broken leg. Boredom and his observer’s eye lead him to spy on his neighbors, but when he suspects one of his neighbors killed his wife, Jeff enlists his society girlfriend to do a little onsite investigation. Seriously, when you watch this, make sure you have the lights on and the doors locked. It’s that intense! I wanted some of that feel to my story too.
At first glance, this would seem a widely diverse set of movies to pull elements from for a story about a paranormal agency that collects alien artifacts! Maybe a little Warehouse-13 would be more in keeping. Not to worry, I watched that too!
If researching for a story has taken you down a rabbit hole of movies and television shows, I’d like to hear about it! I think it’s the best part of being a writer. Or if you’ve read something that made you want to learn more about a specific time period or historical event, I want to know about that, too!
Lexi has a $25 Gift Card to giveaway during the tour. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win. You may find the tour locations herehttps://goo.gl/sPP5CV. About One of a Kind Christmas: For her to love him, he must face a spirit, an archangel…and himself. The spirit of Cameron Douglas has totally screwed-up…again. Now, he has to fix his mess in one night with the help of his best friend and somehow encourage his widow to move on. Holly Douglas is anguished that this is the last Christmas she’ll be visited by her late husband, Cameron. For three years he’s sent her the spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, and they‘ve helped her cope with her loss. But now all that ends, and she doesn’t understand why he must push her away. Ethan Stewart has been in love with Holly since Cameron’s death, but she isolated herself from everyone, including him. Then something changed, and he was welcomed back as her friend. But he wants more— to love her openly, and most of all to make her happy again. Though he loved his best friend like a brother and will do anything for Holly, as he’s pulled into the spirit world, he discovers the price they must pay for their chance at forever…and it just might be too high.
Releases Day December 5, 2018 Buy Links for One of a Kind Christmas:
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them. “I miss Cam. It was as if we were two parts of the same soul. I lived vicariously through him even while I worried constantly about him. It was one of the reasons I was constantly warning him to be careful. I was afraid to lose him.” Ethan looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “And then I did.” She felt as if her heart were breaking all over again, not for her but for Ethan. He was so good to her. He even loved her. And she… “Ethan, I understand.” His gaze returned to hers. Though she couldn’t see his face clearly, the limited light reflected off the sheen in his eyes. She placed her hand on his cheek and rising on her toes brushed her lips across his in a feather-light kiss. She only meant to give comfort, but a spark of something else hit her heart. She remained there, her lips close to his but not touching, wanting more but afraid to ask. Ethan remained absolutely still, his breath mixing with her own. He loved her but would never push her. It wasn’t his nature. She could walk away right now, but to what? Nothing. She stared at his mouth in the dim light. She wanted to live again. She wanted to feel again. Tilting her head, she pressed her lips more firmly against his, moving her hand down his stubbled jaw and behind his neck to pull him closer. Ethan’s lips opened, and she slipped her tongue between them. As his arms came around her, it was like waking from a dream. A slow burn flowed through her veins as he took control of the kiss and explored her mouth with his tongue. It was an unhurried exploration and heat built in her belly. When he pulled back to lick the underside of her top lip, she took her first deep breath. As she exhaled, tingles spread throughout her body. He kissed the corners of her mouth before leaning his forehead against her own. “Ye catch my blood on fire, lass.”
Other Books in the Series: A Christmas Carol Book 1, Pleasures of Christmas Past is on sale for only $.99! Jessica is assigned a hot, Scottish mentor who confuses her heart. But will he protect her soul? Buy Links for Pleasures of Christmas Past:
Lexi Post is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of romance inspired by the classics. She spent years in higher education taking and teaching courses about the classical literature she loved. From Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Masque of the Red Death” to Tolstoy’s War and Peace, she’s read, studied, and taught wonderful classics. But Lexi’s first love is romance novels so she married her two first loves, romance and the classics. From hot paranormals to sizzling cowboys to hunks from out of this world, Lexi provides a sensuous experience with a “whole lotta story.” Lexi is living her own happily ever after with her husband and her cat in Florida. She makes her own ice cream every weekend, loves bright colors, and you will never see her without a hat.
Constance has 2 $10 gift certificates to Paparazzi Accessories to giveaway during the tour. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win one of the prize packages. You may find the tour locations herehttps://goo.gl/taJJDH.
About The Christmas Ballet:
Laura Hemmingway cut herself off from men and her family when the man she loved married her sister. She moved across the country and was doing just fine until she received a devastating call to return to New York. She had to face the death of her sister, her sister’s little girl, Maria, and Maria’s father, Stefan—the man she had once loved. She figured she would pay her respects and leave as soon as possible. She never anticipated on the beautiful little girl stealing her heart. And she never expected that seeing Stefan again after twelve years would stir up old feelings. Stefan’s life was complete. He had a successful career as an attorney, a beautiful wife and an adorable six-year-old daughter. Although he and his wife had been married in name only for the past several years, he cared for her deeply. Then her unexpected death brought him face-to-face with his former lover, and the guilt he’d carried for years. Stefan is still in love with Laura and wants to give her everything she deserves. He and Maria are racing against time to convince Laura to stay with them in New York. Can a little girl’s love, and the true magic of Christmas, help Stefan convince Laura to stay and give their relationship another chance? Content Warning: contains some sexual content Genre – Contemporary Romance Heat Level – Hot
He smiled as he thought about the look on her face when he’d stroked her. Maybe she was more interested in him than she either believed or cared to be. Then he thought of something. “One more thing, Laura,” he called out to her, and she stopped at the door and turned around. “On the nineteenth, the law firm is hosting the annual Christmas party. It’s quite grand and lasts all evening long.” “You want me to be sure to be available to babysit Maria,” Laura said. “No. I want you to plan to come with me.” “What?” “Remember that beautiful, green, velvet dress we saw at Macy’s? I want you to get that dress, and the accessories to go with it, and attend the party with me.” “Stefan, really. You know I don’t go to those types of events, and I don’t wear those kinds of clothes. I’m not comfortable with either of those things.” “You need to get comfortable.” He smiled. “This is not a part of a job for the nanny and teacher. It’s out of the range of the job description. You need to get Ginger to go with you. I’m not going.” She gave him a defiant look. “Laura, I want to take you to this event. I’m not taking no for an answer. I will arrange for Rhonda to take you shopping to help you get what you need. You will charge all the purchases to a credit card I will give you that’s for your use only. This is the first of many social parties you will be attending.” He watched her as she clenched her hands into fists and released them. “Who do you think you will get to care for Maria on these…occasions?” “Usually Lillian is available.” “Stefan, it’s my job to care for Maria, not be your date to your parties. I don’t like being told what I will or won’t do. I don’t like social parties, and I don’t like wearing expensive clothes. It’s not me, and you’re not going to change me.” “I don’t want to change you. I want you to attend an event by my side. It won’t hurt you to have some beautiful clothing to show your feminine side. I want the world to see the beauty I see. Be glad I want to show you off. Some men might decide they don’t want others to see what they see.” “Flattery doesn’t work with me. You can tell me what to do as far as Maria is concerned, but my personal life is off limits to you.” “That’s good to know. At least I know you won’t get carried away and escape my grasp by someone making flattering remarks to you. Your personal life interests me.” “Stefan, you just don’t get it. I am not going to this party,” she said, enunciating each word slowly and carefully. “Besides, your mother would be horrified to see me walk in with you.” Her face hardened as she stared at him. “Look at it this way—you’d be doing me a big favor.” “How?” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not interested in the other women that come to this social party looking for an eligible bachelor. With you on my arm, it would send a clear message to all the others that I’m taken.” “God, you’re impossible. Ginger is more than capable of providing you that kind of service.” “I don’t want Ginger. You have the grace, quiet beauty, and finesse I want in a date, and I will not take no for an answer. After Maria’s recital, you and Rhonda will set a shopping date. And one more thing. When you get your hair done, I’d like you to wear it down.” He smiled at her. “This is not going to happen.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “It will. I’ll just have Maria work on you.” He eyed her. “What?” Stefan grinned. “You heard me. You’d never turn down anything from Maria.” “Grrrr.” She growled and stomped up the stairs. He laced his hands and put them behind his head. Oh yeah, it’ll be a night she’ll never forget.
About the Author: Constance Bretes is an author of contemporary romance and suspense. Her romance books are often set in different parts of the country, but her favorite site is Montana. She retired from the State of Michigan after 38-plus years of service and now writes and researches full time. She is married to her best friend and has recently moved from Montana to Alabama. Her hobbies include basket weaving, sapphire digging, and checking out old ghost towns.
Seelie will be giving away some great ebooks for this tour. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win one of the prize packages. You may find the tour locations here.
About Snatching Dianna:
The hours are counting down as investigators try to prove that Dianna Murphy has been snatched. Unfortunately, without witnesses and solid evidence, all the police really know is that she is missing.
When suburban Milwaukee law student Dianna Murphy fails to connect with her roommate, there is no real evidence that she has been snatched. Until Law Professor Janet MacLachlan, a former covert agent, discovers a single clue, one that points to a taking by a slave trafficking cartel. In a race against time, Janet recruits her husband, secret agent Cade Matthews, small-town Police Chief David Manders and his wife, criminal defense attorney Julianna Constant, and other law students to uncover the truth. Can they prove she has been taken, before Dianna disappears without a trace?
After what seemed like hours in the sweltering van, it lurched to a stop.
Dianna heard a man bark orders. A door to the van opened and someone pulled the rope from her feet, then removed her hood. She took a deep breath. A man grabbed her by the arm, forced to her feet, and pulled from the van. Dianna stumbled when she hit the ground. The stones were hot and her feet were covered by athletic socks, no shoes. Show no weakness.
Dianna immediately surveyed her surroundings. It was still night, but she was in a well-lit courtyard. A large stone mansion stood in front of her. She looked to her right, then her left. The courtyard was enclosed by a large stone fence, at least eight feet high. A fortress. Fortunately, Dianna was a rock-climber. She could rappel over the fence with the right equipment. All she would need was something to serve as a pick, maybe a rope. A knife, a screwdriver, even a fork. Keep your eyes and ears open. Be ready.
A large black man, dressed in a white suit and a maroon turban, walked out of the front door and down the stairs. He stopped and flashed a malevolent smile. He flung his arms wide and in a cultured baritone boomed, “Welcome to paradise, ladies. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
Some of the guards laughed.
“Crikey,” Tillie muttered. “Sounds like a blasted genie.”
Dianna glanced sideways and for the first time, got a look at her new friend. She was tall and thin, her body well defined. She looked strong and aware, almost fierce. Her eyes seemed to be studying the place, taking everything in. She showed no fear. Instead, she seemed interested. Something was off. Tillie did not act like a victim as the others did. She was not cowed. Was she a cop? Or like Dianna, someone who would not permit themselves to be broken?
There was only one thing of which Dianna was certain. She had found a friend. A useful one.
About Seelie Kay:
Seelie Kay is a nom de plume for a writer, editor, and author with more than 30 years of experience in law, journalism, marketing, and public relations. When she writes about love and lust in the legal world, something kinky is bound to happen! In possession of a wicked pen and an overly inquisitive mind, Ms. Kay is the author of multiple works of fiction, including the Kinky Briefs series, The Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, and The President’s Wife.
When not spinning her kinky tales, Ms. Kay ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. She resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she shares a home with her son and enjoys opera, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.
Ms. Kay is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!