Could
This Be Love
by
Lee Kilraine
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE:
Contemporary Romance
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
Everyone
in Climax, North Carolina, knows the Cates brothers. But Sijan Cates
is famous far beyond his quaint hometown--and when he comes back, he
brings trouble with him. . .
Avery
Danford urgently needs to get back in touch with her estranged
family. If only she could get her picture in the papers, maybe they'd
track her down. . .and what better way to accomplish that than to
squeeze into the world's tightest dress and cozy up to the world's
hottest actor, Sijan Cates? It's a crazy idea, but it just might
work. And though the former actress has sworn off Hollywood hunks,
she's got to admit this desperate measure might be a pleasure. . .
Scandal-plagued
Sijan has come home for some peace and quiet--and to stay out of the
tabloids. Then a woman claiming to be his number-one fan plants a hot
kiss on him--in front of a pack of paparazzi. There's only one way to
protect his reputation: tell the world they're engaged. It's all just
a show, as they use each other to get what they need. But in this
sleepy Southern town, love stories have a way of coming true. . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt :
“All
right, let me see if I have the latest scandal straight.” Sijan
Cates sat with his older brother in Dave’s Diner, a former
passenger train car turned restaurant. There were two main entrances,
one at each end of the car. Booths snaked around the front of the
diner next to the front windows while a sit-down counter sat in front
of a cramped but ruthlessly clean kitchen. Dave, the owner and cook,
was known for his biscuits and homemade blackberry jam, and his
burgers. That’s it. Ordering anything else on the menu was like
playing Russian roulette with your stomach. But if you wanted
biscuits and jam, a burger, or all the most up-to-date gossip, the
diner was the place to eat.
“Hell,
Ty, I came home to get a break from it.” He frowned across at his
brother, but of course, it had no effect.
“It
says here in The Tattler you got a sweet young thing pregnant and
then dumped her.”
“I did
not get a sweet young thing pregnant. I’ve never even met that
sweet young thing. Hell, if I slept with even half the women the
tabloids claim I do, I wouldn’t have time to get out of bed, let
alone make movies.”
“According
to them you’ve got a revolving door on your bedroom with a ‘Now
Serving’ ticket machine attached to the wall next to it.”
Sijan
leaned back as their waitress, Renee, slid steaming mugs of coffee in
front of them both. “Renee, run away with me and save me from all
this.”
“Sijan,
if I weren’t having hot flashes, I’d be just another crazy woman
trying to get a piece of you.” Renee tucked her serving tray under
her arm and wagged a finger at him. “Now, your latest scandal’s
got the Grapevine stirred up. I don’t think the Simon sisters can
take the excitement.”
“Those
ladies can handle anything. Besides, they’ve seen this before.
Remember four years ago when an ex-girlfriend tried the same thing?”
“Thank
goodness for DNA tests and poor math skills.” Tynan grinned. “She
sure didn’t account for your six months of filming in Prague. You
do attract the crazy.”
“It’s
Hollywood.” Sijan’s muscles tensed at the memory. “Too many
people can make money off you. I’m just an ‘opportunity.’ An
opportunity to get a script read, a part in a movie, or free
publicity.” “Or generous child support payments for the next
twenty years.”
“Hey,
I’ve dated some nice, normal women. Once I learned to steer clear
of actresses.”
Tynan
nodded. “That would explain all those models, politician’s
daughters, and savvy career women.”
He’d
be the first to admit he’d enjoyed the benefits of his moviestar
status over the years, but he’d always shied away from serious
commitment like it was a box of rattlesnakes. Lately though, the
serial dating felt . . . empty. Especially after coming home and
seeing how happy his brother Quinn and his fiancée Delaney were. “I
need a hiatus from women.”
“Bite
your tongue. Life is a smorgasbord and you are too young to go on a
diet. Seriously, Si, I joke, but this”—he rattled the tabloid
before tossing it down in disgust—“just pisses me off.”
“Every
job has its downside, right?” Sijan shrugged tense shoulders. He
leaned back against the booth, consciously willing his muscles to
relax. “I’ve decided I’m just going to lay low and focus on my
work while the studio’s lawyers deal with that.”
“You
decided?”
“Yup.
About five seconds after the president of Majestic Studios called me
into his office three days ago and explained loudly and in a few
choice phrases that my next two films need to exceed box office
predictions.” Or else.
“One
year ago, this same man couldn’t wine and dine you fast enough
after your Oscar nomination.” Tynan sat back, muttering a graphic
although physically impossible suggestion for the president of
Majestic Studios. “Fame sure is fickle.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR
Bio and Links:
A former
Air Force spouse, Lee Kilraine moved seven times over eighteen years
before finally settling with her husband in the pine woods of North
Carolina. She has worked as a physical therapy aide, a cashier, a
waitress, an English tutor, a ballet teacher and a stay-at-home mom.
Holding tight to her mother’s motto, “There’s nothing you can’t
do if you try hard enough,” Lee returned to college as an adult and
graduated from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro.
Writing thirty-one papers in two years (she counted) rekindled her
love of writing, and she set her sights on her other dream—writing
romance. When she isn’t swinging on her front porch swing or
watching another of their four young adult children leave the nest
(she swears she isn’t pushing them out!) you can find her typing
away on her computer with her golden retriever, Harley, destroying
something at her feet. Lee is a 2014 Golden Heart® Finalist.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31749
http://www.leekilraine.com/
https://www.facebook.com/LeeKilraineAuthor
https://twitter.com/LeeKilraine
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not
Second Best
by
Christa Maurice
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE:
Contemporary Romance
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
As
a lawyer at Touchstone management, Tessa's position brings her up
close and personal to some of the world's biggest heartthrobs.
Sometimes that intimacy crosses professional lines, which is
understandable considering Tessa's impressive contact list. But when
rock star Brian Ellis set her aside for the girl of his dreams, Tessa
can't help wonder if "spinster aunt" is her true vocation.
Which explains her hook-up with rising star Brett Cherney at Brian's
celebrity wedding . . .
As
the lead singer of BroRide, Brett has lived the rock-n-roll bad-boy
lifestyle to the very hilt. But when the girl of his dreams marries
fellow rocker Brian Ellis, he buries his disappointment in the arms
of an older woman. The following morning, Brett realizes what he
experienced was only the beginning of a song he's been trying to
write all his life. It's a seductive theme, which Tessa falls for
again and again, but getting her to believe they have a hit is
turning out to be far from a sure thing . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt :
Tessa
walked outside, maintaining her happy expression past the knot of
smokers by the door. This wedding shouldn’t bug her so much. Brian
had gotten over his crush on her years ago. Shit, he’d been married
before. She’d fallen off his pedestal a long time ago.
So why
did this marriage seem like the end of the world?
Suzi
made a beautiful bride. One of her friends had designed the simple
white gown for her. Ribbons of rainbow colors started as faint
pastels across the bust and gained intensity as they wrapped around
her body and down the back of her dress until they formed a brilliant
train. Daisies wound through her upswept hair and complemented her
pretty, sweet face. Brian looked rather sharp, too, in his white tux,
open at the throat. His best accessory, though, had to be the
expression of utter joy in his eyes.
It made
Tessa want to puke. Not because they were happy. No, never that.
Brian deserved to be happy. Suzi did, too. Apparently, everyone
deserved to be happy. Except her.
“Nice
show, huh?”
Tessa
glanced at Brett who’d wandered up beside her at the overlook. Or
maybe she’d wandered up beside him. The ocean smashed into the
cliffs below as if it held a grudge against her. “Yeah. They look
really happy.”
“She’s
the Holy Grail,” Brett said. He leaned on the guardrail, fiddling a
cigarette between his fingers. “She was a total mess when she left
Logan last year. I took her out to this place I go to. Never laid a
hand on her.”
Tessa
nodded. Why did he think she should care? Everybody knew he’d
pulled Suzi out of the party where she’d broken up with her last
boyfriend, Logan, nearly a year ago. Tessa had been one of many
people trying to figure out where the hell they’d gone for weeks
before Suzi had reappeared at Jason’s West Virginia place. “You’re
a big damn hero.”
“Something
like that.” He flicked the cigarette off the cliff, unlit. “Brian’s
a good guy, right? He’ll be good to her, won’t he?”
“I’ve
known him since he was a kid. He’d walk through hell for her.”
Brian was the best guy. Absolute heart of gold. If she’d been half
awake ten years ago, she could have had that.
“Good.
That’s good. Cause next time I have to haul her away from some
asshole, I’m not going to be so easygoing about letting her leave.”
She
glared at Brett, but he looked like he’d been dragged backward
through the desert by a tour bus, and she faltered. “What’s wrong
with you?”
Brett
turned, stared at the ocean. “Probably the same thing that’s
wrong with you.”
“What’s
that supposed to mean?”
“Oh,
come on. How dumb do you think everybody is? You’ve known Brian
since he was in elementary school. His daughter is named after you.
The only person at this wedding who looks sicker about it is Logan.”
Brett bobbed his head. “And maybe me. You and Brian had a thing, or
you wish you had a thing, or something. I’d say I could write a
great song about it, but there’s already been a bunch. Etta James
did three or four.”
“So,
are you telling me that party-hearty Brett Cherney lost his poor
little heart to the bride?” Tessa meant to smirk, but it came out
twisted because of the sob she was trying to cover.
“Only
as much as tough lawyer Tessa Callisto lost her heart to the groom.”
Tessa
stared back in the direction of the pavilion. Over six hundred
guests. This wedding was almost as well attended as the Grammys. No
point hiring a band because no local band could hold a candle to this
audience, so music had been supplied by a running jam. Everyone was
having a blast. They wouldn’t notice a couple of people missing.
“You
know what the best cure for a broken heart is, don’t you?”
“What?”
He glanced over his shoulder as if the answer to her question was
back at the wedding reception.
She
stared into Brett’s eyes. Brett, who slept with every female who
caught his fancy. And there were lots of those. What with his lean
build and washboard abs, he was such a very good-looking specimen.
“Wanna?” She arched an eyebrow at him.
His lips
curled into a smile. “Sounds good to me.”
“Your
place or mine?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR
Bio and Links:
Christa
Maurice has been obsessed with rock stars from early childhood when
her older brother started randomly quizzing her on rock trivia. How
many first graders know who the headliners were on the Black and Blue
Tour? Christa did. (Black Sabbath and Blue Oyster Cult.) When not
listening to music and/or writing, she enjoys traveling, reading and
science fiction. Readers can find Christa on Facebook, and visit her
website at christamaurice.wordpress.com.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/29516
https://www.facebook.com/ChristaMauriceWriter
https://twitter.com/christamaurice
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spooning
Daisy
by
Maggie McConnell
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE:
Contemporary Romance
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
Her
mango chutney is exquisite; her blueberry sauce is to die for. But
right now, Chef de Cuisine Daisy Moon is a woman without a
kitchen--and without a fiancé. Unceremoniously dumped from her place
of business and her relationship, Daisy sells her belongings, plus a
few of her ex's, and packs her bags. Maybe smashing all the china in
her former restaurant was a bad move. Stripped of her Golden Spoon
for "un-chef-like" conduct, she is now blacklisted all over
Seattle. Her sole job offer is from the Wild Man Lodge. . .in Otter
Bite, Alaska.
Too
bad Daisy can't even get out of Dodge without incident. By the time
she boards a ship for Alaska, she's got a trail of new troubles
behind her, and suddenly Otter Bite is sounding pretty good. But the
vessel turns into her own personal Titanic when a series of close
encounters confirms her terrible taste in men--including one very
good looking bad luck charm named Max Kendall. She vows to dedicate
the rest of her days to chowders and brulée. Yet even Alaska isn't
far enough away to shake the memories of the sexy shipmate who rocked
her cabin--and her world. Thank goodness she's done with
surprises--but they may not be done with her. . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt :
“What’ll
ya take for this?” Daisy Moon lifted her glazed eyes from a
makeshift plywood table where she had been tidying pieces of her
past. She focused on the midlife, mostly brunette whose brassy
streaks fit her gravel voice. Backlit by the golden afternoon pushing
into the garage, the woman appeared heaven-sent. After a closer look,
Daisy knew better.
In her
right hand, a cigarette was wedged between two fingers while her left
hand strangled a porcelain figurine, its milky pastels and melted
contours in unhappy contrast to the black polish on the woman’s
talons.
“I’d
appreciate it if you wouldn’t smoke,” Daisy said politely.
“There’s a bucket outside—”
Too
late. The cigarette was crushed between the sole of one strappy
stiletto sandal and the pristine concrete of Daisy’s double garage.
“So
how much?”
A cloud
dulled the sun and the saintly aura faded. Stepping back to allow yet
another stranger to judge the resale value of her life, Daisy
answered the brunette. “Doesn’t the tag say fifty dollars?” as
if she couldn’t remember how, in the wee hours of the morning while
Lady Antebellum pleaded “Need You Now,” she’d painstakingly
tied the price tag around the necks of the porcelain lovers.
“Ye-ahh,”
the woman answered as if Daisy were dense. “But how much will you
take?”
“Excuse
me,” a voice from behind interrupted. “What size is this?”
Daisy
turned to a stout woman who held a Kelly-green midcalf skirt and
matching short jacket. Daisy loved that suit—it perfectly
complemented her Irish genes—but love wasn’t a good enough reason
to keep something that squeezed the breath from her. “Size six.”
“Is
there some place I could try it on?”
“Try
it on . . . ?” Daisy imagined popped buttons and exploding seams.
“I’ll
handle this,” Charity Wagstaff whispered, coming through the
milling browsers. “You take care of Cruella.”
Daisy
shot her eyes toward the heavens.
“But
remember,” her best friend softly chided, “you’re turning the
page, moving on, taking risks. You’re letting go—”
“I
know, I know.” Forcing a smile, Daisy attended to the brunette.
“Make me an offer.”
“Ten
bucks.”
“Ten
bucks? That’s a Lladró!”
The
brunette stared impatiently, as if she were tapping a foot. “It’s
a limited edition and it cost $275 last year. They’ve probably
broken the mold.”
“Well,
if it’s so valuable, why’re y’ selling it?”
Because
it was meant to crown the top layer of a fabulous, fivetier Amaretto
wedding cake . . . “Because I’m moving,” Daisy said instead.
“And I don’t have the room.”
The
brunette yawned.
“It’s
like this—” Daisy tried to look pitiful. But it took memories of
her long-departed mutt, Sophie, to produce the tears needed for
effect. “My husband died and I have to downsize.”
“Twenty
bucks,” countered the dry-eyed shopper.
“She’ll
take it,” Charity said, sneaking up from behind.
Her
auburn frizz quivering with indignation, Daisy spun toward the sunny
blonde. “Have you lost your mind? It’s worth more than twenty
dollars. It’s worth more than fifty dollars!”
“Let
it go.”
“It’s
so beautiful.”
“It’s
only clay. Let it go.”
“I
don’t have all day.” The woman held out a rumpled bill. “Y’
want the twenty or not?”
Reaching
across the plywood, Charity snatched the money. “I’ve changed my
mind, it’s not for sale!”
Daisy
screamed. Charity blocked her attempt to chase the woman, who fled
down the drive like a hyena with carrion.
Daisy
wilted, then quickly tensed. The browsing had stopped and all eyes
were upon her. A Miss Marple–type linked elbows with her equally
tweedy companion and the two scurried out of the garage, pausing
briefly at the garden tools displayed along the drive before glancing
back and continuing their escape.
Sympathetically,
Charity said, “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been at this
for hours.”
Daisy
took a shuddering breath, the embarrassment and humiliation of the
last year dumping on her like a sudden downpour. She didn’t even
know these people who were picking over the remnants of her life. Why
should she care what they thought? It was her garage—for another
two weeks. If she wanted, she could be as contrary and unpredictable
as the Seattle weather.
“Maybe
a short break,” Daisy conceded, before wending her way between
bookshelves and lamps and a widescreen television marked with a SOLD
sign. Who could’ve predicted that only weeks after Jason had
replaced his reliable television with a sleeker state-of-the-art
model, he’d do the same with his fiancée?
Certainly
not Daisy, who, nonetheless, had taken the high road, thanks to the
example set by her mother, a corporate wife who always kept her smile
in the face of adversity. With more at stake than just her personal
relationship, Daisy had been civil, allowing Jason to move out at his
leisure; she had never intended to keep either the television or the
telltale Callaway golf clubs until she received the certified letter
from Dritz Klak & Smite.
She’d
fantasized about bashing the $2,500 television with the $600 driver,
but the ever-pragmatic Charity convinced her to sell them instead.
“You’ll
get the best price on eBay,” Charity had told her. But money was
less the objective than expediency; Daisy didn’t have time to
photograph, upload, monitor, and mail. And fear of another
“Craigslist Killer” kept her away from that website. So, the
old-fashioned method it was; anything remaining at day’s end would
be donated to the SPCA thrift shop.
Of
course, Jason didn’t know his precious belongings were the main
course at a garage sale.
Although
short-lived, the thought cheered Daisy as she passed from the
netherworld of her garage into the haven of her kitchen. But not
before fluffing the potpourri of carnation petals strategically
placed between a crystal mantel clock and a silver-plated chafing
dish.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR
Bio and Links:
Golden
Heart nominee Maggie McConnell spent her childhood in Asia and South
America as the daughter of US diplomats. Attending college in
Illinois, she earned a BA in Art and an MBA while working at the
local animal shelter. At 26, she packed her dog and cat into a Ford
truck and drove the Alcan Highway to Alaska, where she spent 23 years
exploring The Last Frontier in single-engine Cessnas. An
animal-rights advocate and vegan, Maggie provides a sanctuary on her
Arizona ranch for all creatures great and small. Her compass still
points north.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31732
Buy links:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Working
It
by
Leah Marie Brown
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE:
Contemporary Romance
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
With
her trust fund and coveted job at Christian Dior, Fanny Moreau
believes she has it all. But when her best friend finds a fulfilling
new career abroad—and a dreamy relationship with a great guy,
Fanny’s fabulous life suddenly feels empty. Inspired to find her
true purpose, she trades her cushy lifestyle in San Francisco for an
adventure in the Alaskan wilderness.
Everyone
thinks Fanny has gone off the deep end. What’s a girl with a Ph.D
in Prada doing teaching in an Inuit village? Even Fanny is wondering,
especially when she comes face to face with Calder MacFarlane. The
Scottish search and rescue pilot is everything Fanny is not—selfless,
heroic, and used to living on the edge. He’s also the man who once
loved her best friend. Yet something in Calder’s sexy gaze has her
believing that she’s a woman capable of great things—a woman who
might just find her own happily-ever-after, in a place where she
least expects it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
The
worst day of my life started with an unfortunate spritz of perfume.
Every
tragedy can be traced back to one fatal mistake, one seemingly
insignificant miscalculation that sets into motion a series of small
blunders resulting in utter catastrophe.
Take
James Cameron winning the Oscar for Titanic over Gus Van Sant for
Good Will Hunting. If the Titanic’s wireless operator had known how
to work the Marconi efficiently, he might have translated the warning
messages about ice in the area, the unsinkable ship would have
remained afloat, and James Cameron wouldn’t have won the Oscar for
a hopelessly insipid movie.
If
Christian Lacroix had added jet beads to his pared-back coat dresses
and peplum skirts, his ’09 Fall Collection might have been the buzz
of the season; instead, fashion editors and snarky bloggers lamented
the loss of his talent.
One
seemingly insignificant snowball-sized mistake starts its journey
down the mountain, and before you know it, a shit avalanche is
descending upon you.
My best
friend, Vivian—her name is Vivia, but I call her Vivian because
it’s more glam—coined the phrase “shit avalanche.” It’s an
unpalatably graphic and overblown phrase and not one I use often, but
it superbly describes my situation.
My shit
avalanche started with an unwelcome spritz of Kitty Kat’s Purrfect.
Kitty Kat, the bubblegum pop singing phenom, might know a thing or
two about writing hit songs, but she doesn’t know a thing about the
delicate art of blending scents to create an intoxicating perfume.
How
could a spritz of perfume cause a disaster?
I will
start at the awful beginning, but only because I hope my tragic story
will serve as a cautionary tale. The Titanic. James Cameron.
Christian
Lacroix. Stéphanie Moreau. The world has suffered enough disasters.
Read and learn, mon amie.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR
Bio and Links:
Leah
Marie Brown has
worked as a journalist and photographer. An avid traveler, she has
had adventures and mishaps from Paris to Tokyo. She doesn't buy
cheesy tee-shirts or useless bric-a-brac, but prefers friendships and
memories as souvenirs from her travels. She lives a bike ride away
from the white sand beaches of Florida’s Emerald Coast with her
husband, children, and pampered poodles. She is hard at work on the
next novel in The It Girls series, but loves to hear from readers.
Please visit her website at www.leahmariebrown.com Follow
Vivia on Twitter @Chic_Traveler and
Pinterest as Vivia Perpetual Grant, Perpetual Virgin.
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