Friday, March 23, 2018

Serial Wives: Introducing Zero Zimmerman by Yvonne Walus



Why would a rich girl become a prostitute?
Three years ago Joy refused to sleep with an ex boyfriend. When he committed suicide, her guilt was enormous. To punish herself she opted to serve as a prostitute for three years.

How far would you go to protect your child?
Cora loves her convict husband despite - or because of - his bad boy ways. But now that he's back in her life, she has their daughter to consider. Is a faulty father better than no father at all?

A serial killer…
A serial killer who murders women and displays their bodies dressed in a white sheet with a fencing mask covering the face. Who will be next?

Thursday, March 22, 2018

Enemy of Mine by Red L. Jameson - FREEBIE


Barnes & Noble

Newly updated and edited

**Book 1 of The Glimpse Time Travel Series, where mythical muses play naughty matchmakers**

Kidnapping mortals to different eras is such fun. Trickster muse sisters, Clio and Erato, call it a glimpse, but military historian Minerva Ferguson, Erva, is fairly certain she’s gone nuts when she wakes two hundred miles from her apartment. And two hundred years in the past to Brooklyn, 1776. In an unfamiliar manse, during the American Revolutionary War, she’s not too sure how to regain her sanity. Especially when she realizes whose mansion she’s just woken in, the one British general she studied more than anything else, Lord William Hill.

When Will hears Erva’s screams of panic, he breaks down a door to save her, even if he can’t quite remember why she’s visiting. She calms, though, the instant she sees him, as if they’ve known each other for eons. From the second he sees her dressed in a toga made from a bed sheet to later when she’s with his troops, wooing them with her musket skills, he realizes he’s smitten. But he’s a weary soldier, shrouded in grief, while she reminds him of a sun goddess. Is she too good for him? Lord, how he wants her to want him.

How could Erva not fall for a guy who accidentally quotes a Cheap Trick song? But now she has to get to the bottom of if Will is really a rake, how to stop one of the most important battles of the war, and lastly how to stop her insane crush on the general. After all, he’s going to die in less than a week.

The muses have to work fast for this glimpse. But that’s when they work best. And as explosions erupt through New York, sometimes it’s not from the artillery.


“Why are you—” She stopped herself again. This time she bit her lush bottom lip and looked away.
“Why am I what?” He should have let her question falter, but he had to know for himself if she were a spy or not. The more questions she asked, the more she would reveal herself.
The anomalous thought flittered through his mind though that he wasn’t too sure if he cared if she were a spy.
She glanced back up at him, her eyes wide and timid. “Why are you here?”
That, he hadn’t expected. A spy would wonder about his men, his drills, his arms, anything else that mattered to the war. Not a philosophical question about why he was here. But even the reason why he was here could be used against him, if court martialed. He hadn’t realized that thus far. Then again, he’d thought he wouldn’t have survived this long in the war. In his mind, he would have no reason to be court martialed. He wouldn’t be alive for it.
She licked her lips and slightly shook her head. “I mean, you didn’t vote for any of the acts the Americans protested. The newspapers said that you didn’t support any kind of action against the Americans. You don’t support this war, yet here you are. Why?”
“Why not?” He tried to deflect the conversation.
She narrowed her eyes, no longer looking sheepish but challenging, ruthless, and so lovely. He liked her best like this, shooting faster than most of his men, speaking of sedition to his superiors, the Howe brothers. Lord, how he liked it when her eyes caught fire and turned back into dark red-brown honey. His veins pumped his too hot blood through his body.
“Why not, hmm?” She gave him a wicked smile. “Why not, indeed. I think you don’t want to be here.”
“On the contrary, there is no other place I’d rather be.”
She blinked, then caught his meaning that standing so close to her was exactly where he’d love to be. Arching a blonde brow, she said, “You know what I mean, obtuse man.”
He silently chuckled at his new name.
“I think you don’t want to be in this war.”
He felt his own mirth leave his face. “You might be right.”
“Then why are you here? Why do you fight? Especially so efficiently?”
“Do I?”
She growled, making Will grin again. “Quit evading the questions with your own.”
“Why? This is fun.”
She smacked one of his shoulders, then he caught her small hand in his.
“Is this fun for you too?” he asked, carefully gauging her reaction as he twined his fingers through hers.
She didn’t look at their hands. Instead, her gaze was focused on his chest. He especially enjoyed that, as if she found him desirable. Lord, he hoped so, that he wasn’t making a fool of himself.
She never answered, but looked up at him, her long lashes batting. He took hold of her candle and set it on a nearby table. In so doing he’d gotten that much closer to her, and just as he was thinking of holding her other hand, she reached up, probably on her toes, and kissed him.
This time he reacted immediately. His lips melded with hers. She tasted strongly of mint, and he licked the seam of her lips to enjoy. She opened for him, and he dove his tongue into her mouth. God, she was sweet. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he pulled her closer by holding onto her not-corseted waist. Next her tongue was inside his mouth, and he couldn’t help but pull her even closer, her stomach against his, her breasts crushed against his chest.
Will felt Erva fiddle with the ribbon at the nape of his neck, and his hair was released from its hold. Instantly, her hands raked through his mane. It gave him silent permission to finally take hold of her tresses with one of his hands. Pure silk ran through his fingers. He loved her long hair, so wild and free this moment. Like the color of corn silk, Erva’s locks were close to white with a light dandelion sheen. He fisted what he held, which tilted her head back, all the better to deepen the kiss. She moaned into his mouth. All his blood rushed south. That little noise was his undoing.

Friday, March 16, 2018

Read an Excerpt From Kinsale Kisses: An Irish Romance by Elizabeth Maddrey


All Other Retailers

She wants stability. He wants spontaneity. What they need is each other.

Colin O’Bryan cashed out of the software company he founded and started a new life in Ireland. Content to wander from town to town as a traveling musician, he had no goals beyond healing from the betrayals that led to his career change, and finding his next gig.

After the death of her parents, Rachel Sullivan hoped her aunt’s B&B on the Southern coast of Ireland would be a place for her to settle and start a new life. Though she can’t deny the sparks in Colin’s touch, his lack of concern for hearth and home leave her torn. Can this free-spirited minstrel win her heart or will Rachel choose roots and stability over love?

This gentle inspirational romance will take you on a journey to Cork County, Ireland and give you a glimpse of Kinsale, Charles Fort, Blarney Castle, and Cobh as Rachel and Colin undergo their own journey of self-discovery as they learn that God's plans are bigger than their own and that waiting on Him is worth the insecurity it brings.


The musician set his guitar aside before he hopped down from the raised platform wedged in the corner of the room and strode after the server. He tapped her on the shoulder and, after a brief conversation, nodded in Rachel’s direction. The server smiled and disappeared behind a swinging door.
The man paced back across the pub and paused by Rachel’s table, offering an impish smile, a dimple forming in his right cheek. “Hi there. Can I join you? It’s a bit crowded now and I’m due for a break.”
Rachel cleared her throat and glanced around. It had filled up. “Um. Sure.” She gestured to the space across from her. “Have a seat. I’m Rachel.”
His smile broadened and he lowered himself to the bench. “Colin O’Bryan. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Have you been in Ireland long?”
She shook her head. “Just arrived today. I’m visiting my aunt for a bit. What about you?”
“I landed in Dublin about a month ago, but got to Kinsale just yesterday. I’ve been making my way from town to town, singing for my supper and a place to lay my head.”
Rachel blinked. “You mean you’ve booked a tour, right? Have dates and locations lined up where they’re expecting you? Obviously you do this for a living back home as well.”
His deep laugh rose above the hum of conversation in the room. “Oh no. This is just a hobby in the States. But most towns have a pub or two looking for a musician for one evening or, if you’re lucky, a few in a row. And now I’ve a few references as well that help pave the way. If I can’t find a spot, then I find a room for the night and still get to see whatever sights there are to be had.”
The server appeared with two steaming bowls of soup and a plate piled with thick slices of brown bread. She set them down, added a dish of butter and a small teapot, and scooted away before Rachel could murmur her thanks.
“Mind if I say grace?”
Rachel pulled her attention back to Colin. He wanted to pray? With a complete stranger? “No. Of course not.”
She bowed her head then glanced up hastily as his fingers closed around hers. His touch sent tingles flying up her arm.
“Heavenly Father, thank you for bringing Rachel safely to Ireland today and for providing me with a place to sing and rest this evening. Bless this food and the hands that prepared it. Amen.”
“Amen.” Rachel gave her hand a little tug, unwinding her fingers from his. She stirred her soup, inhaling the earthy aroma as it spiraled up from the bowl. “For how long?”
Colin broke a piece off a slice of bread and dunked it in his soup. “How long what?”
“How long will you do the traveling musician thing? If you’ve been here a month, you must be nearing the end of your vacation time.”
He grinned and dunked another chunk of bread. “Let’s just say I’m currently unencumbered with trivial details like vacation and sick days.”
“Ah.” Great. He was unemployed. She was too, but at least she wasn’t content with the situation. She was working on a solution. He was wandering around a foreign country like a nineteen-year-old backpacker with no cares in the world. A killer smile and electric tingles only went so far—there were boys at home who could provide those. If she wanted anyone at all, he had to, at least, be a man. It was all moot anyway, she hadn’t come here looking for a husband and Colin was probably on the first bus out of town in the morning.
“What about you? How long will you stay?”
Rachel savored the rich flavors of potato, leek, and cream before she swallowed. “Through July. Maybe longer, depending on how things go.”
Humor danced in his eyes. “What about your own vacation days?”
Heat flooded her face. She sipped her Coke, grateful for the ice. “How did you put it? I’m currently unencumbered by such things. But I’m looking to see that’s not the case for long.”
He arched a brow but said nothing.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I just buried my father and sold our family business. My aunt is the only living relative I have and, as you can see, she’s in her early seventies.” Rachel nodded across the room to where Siobhan knitted with her friend. “Her B&B can barely keep afloat and she’s not able to handle the workload anyway. I have a degree in hospitality and grew up in the business. So I’m going to help, and, I hope, make a new home for myself here, in the town my father left as soon as he was of age. So keep your little superior smile to yourself. I may not have a job now, but I’m working on it, not kicking back, singing tra-la-la as if bills don’t have to be paid.”
Colin scraped the last bite of soup from his bowl and stood. “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. Thanks for letting me share your table.”
Mouth agape, Rachel watched as he resumed his place by his instruments. He cast a long look in her direction and then, with a slight smile, picked up his concertina and launched into The Wild Rover.
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