Rachel Thompson

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Tears of Tess by Pepper Winters @PepperWinters

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*Starling*

Where are you taking me, Brax?” I giggled as my boyfriend of two years beamed his slightly crooked smile and plucked my suitcase from my hands.
We crossed the threshold of the airport and nerves of excitement fluttered in my stomach.
A week ago, Brax surprised me with a romantic dinner and an envelope. I grabbed him and squeezed him half to death when I pulled free two airplane tickets with the destinations blacked out by a marker.
My perfect, sweet boyfriend, Brax Cliffingstone was taking me somewhere exotic. And that meant connection, sex, fun. Things I sorely needed.
Brax had never been able to keep a secret. Hell, he was a shockingly bad liar—I caught his fibs every time when sky-blue eyes darted up and to the left, and his cute ears blushed. 
But, somehow, he kept quiet on the whole mysterious holiday. Like any normal twenty-year-old woman, I searched our apartment ruthlessly. Raiding his underwear drawer, the PlayStation compartment, and all the other secret hidey-holes where he might’ve kept the real plane reservations. But, for all my snooping, I came up empty. 
So, as I stood in the Melbourne airport, with a crazy happy boyfriend and nerves rioting in my heart, I could only grin like an idiot.
“Not telling. The check-in clerk can be the one to ruin my surprise.” He chuckled. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t tell you until we arrived at the resort.” He dropped the suitcase and dragged me toward him with a smirk. “In fact, if I could, I’d blindfold you until we got there, so it would all be a complete surprise.”
My core clenched as thoughts flared with hot images—sexy, sinful visions of Brax blindfolding me, taking me roughly, completely at his mercy. Oh, God, don’t go there again, Tess. You were going to block thoughts like that, remember?
Ignoring myself, I gasped as Brax’s fingers grazed my flesh. I shuddered, and my sequined top became insubstantial.
“You could do that, you know?” I whispered, dropping my eyelids to half-mast. “You could tie me up….”
Instead of pouncing and kissing me like crazy for offering him the chance to dominate, Brax swallowed and looked as if I told him to slap me with a dead fish.
“Tess, what the hell? That’s the third time you’ve quipped about bondage.”
Rejection crushed, and I dropped my gaze. The tingles between my legs popped like dirty bubbles, and I let Brax shove me back into the box where I belonged. The box labelled: perfect, innocent girlfriend who’d do anything for him, as long as it was in the dark and on my back.
I wanted a new label. One that said: girlfriend who will do anything to be tied, spanked, and fucked all over rather than adored.
Brax looked so disappointed and I hated myself. I need to stop this.
I reminded myself for the three-hundredth time, that the sweet, wonderful relationship I had with this man was far more important than a bit of sexy play in the bedroom.
I mumbled, “It’s been too long. Almost a month and a half.” I remembered the exact date when the lacklustre sex, in good ole missionary, took place. Brax worked overtime, my uni course demanded a lot of brainpower, and somehow life became more important than a roll beneath the sheets.
He froze, looking around us at the hordes of people. “Great time to bring that up.” He guided me to the side, glaring at a couple that came too close. “Can we talk about this later?” He ducked his head and kissed my cheek. “I love you, hun. Once we aren’t so busy, then we can have more alone time.”
“And this holiday? Will you take me like the girlfriend you adore?”
Brax beamed, enveloping me in a hug. “Every night. You wait.”
I smiled, letting anticipation and happiness dispel my angst. Brax and I wanted different things in the bedroom department, and I hoped, prayed, got on my knees and begged, that I didn’t ruin what we had because of it. 
My blood simmered for things entirely not sweet. Things I didn’t have the courage to say. Downright sinful things that amped my blood to lava and made me wet—it wasn’t chaste kisses.
And standing in his arms, in a public place, with that sexy smirk on his mouth, and hands on my waist, I trembled with a cocktail of need. This trip would be exactly what we needed.
He brushed his lips against mine, no tongue, and I had to squeeze my legs together to stop the vibrations threatening to overtake me. Is there something wrong with me? Surely, I shouldn’t be this way. Maybe there was a cure—something to take the edge off my desires.
Brax pulled back, smiling. “You’re gorgeous.”
My eyes dropped to his shapely mouth, breathing faster. What would Brax do if I pushed him up against the wall and groped him in public? My mind turned the fantasy into him pushing me hard against the wall, his thigh going between my legs, hands pawing, bruising me because he couldn’t get close enough.
I swallowed, battling those far too tempting thoughts. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I joked, plucking his baby-blue t-shirt that matched his eyes so well.
I loved this man, but missed him at the same time. How was that possible?
Life wedged between us: the university course stole five days a week, not to mention homework, and Brax’s boss landed a new building contract in the heart of the city.
Each month trickled into the next, and lovemaking became second fiddle to Call of Duty on PlayStation, and architectural sketching for the extra credit I’d signed up for.
But all of that would change. Our life together would improve, because I was going to seduce my man. I’d packed a few naughty surprises to show Brax what turned me on. I needed to do this. To save my sanity. To save my relationship.
Brax’s fingers squeezed my waist and he stepped away, ducking down to grab the suitcases again.
If I wanted to seduce him, wasn’t it best just to go for it? Planning and dreaming seemed wrong when he stood right in front of me.
I dropped my shoulder bag and grabbed the lapels of his beige canvas jacket, yanking him into me. “Let’s join the mile-high club,” I whispered, before crushing his mouth with mine. His eyes flashed as I leaned forward, pressing my entire body against his. Feel me. Need me.
He tasted of orange juice and his lips were warm, so warm. My tongue tried to gain welcome, but Brax’s hands landed on my shoulders, holding me at bay.
Someone clapped, saying, “You attack him, girl!”
Brax stepped back, looking over my shoulder at the bystander. He dropped his eyes to mine, temper flashing. “Nice spectacle, Tess. Are we done? Can we go check in?”
Disappointment sat like a heavy boulder in my belly. He sensed my mood—like he always did—and gathered me into a hug again. “I’m sorry. You know how much I hate PDA’s. Get me behind closed doors, and I’m all yours.” He smiled, and I nodded.
“You’re right. Sorry. I’m just so excited to go on holiday with you.” I dropped my eyes, letting wild, blonde curls curtain my face. Please, don’t let him see the rejection in my eyes. Brax used to say my eyes reminded him of dove’s feathers as the white bird flew across the sky. He could be very poetic, my Brax. But I didn’t want poetry anymore. I wanted… I didn’t know what I wanted.
He chuckled. “You’re right about being excited.” He waggled his eyebrow, and together we headed to check-in. The girl who’d told me to attack him winked and gave me a thumbs up.
I smiled, hiding the residual pain that my attack didn’t inspire the same reaction.
We joined the queue, and I glanced around. People milled like fish in a pond, darting and weaving around groups of waiting passengers. The vibe of an airport never failed to excite me. Not that I travelled a lot. Before the university course, I travelled to Sydney to study the architecture there, and sketch. I loved to sketch buildings.  At ten-years of age, my parents took my brother and me to Bali for a week. Not that it was fun going on holiday with a thirty-year old brother, and parents who despised me.
Old hurt surfaced, thinking of them. When I moved in with Brax eighteen months ago, I drifted apart from my parents. After all, they were almost seventy-years old, and focused on other ‘important things’, rather than a daughter who’d come twenty years too late. A dreadful mistake, as they loved to remind me. 
They’d been so horrified at the pregnancy, they promptly sued the doctor for botching my father’s vasectomy.
An old enemy: rejection, ruled my life. I supposed the desperation to connect with Brax was a way of confirming that someone wanted me. I didn’t just want intimacy, I needed it. I needed to feel his hands on me, his body in mine. It was a craving that never left me in peace.
I blinked, putting the impossible together. I needed Brax to be rough because I needed to be claimed.
Oh, my God, am I that screwed up?
I followed Brax, in a daze, to the counter and let him put the suitcase on the scales.
“Morning. Tickets and passports, please,” the girl in her smart uniform said.
Fumbling with luggage tags, Brax asked, “Honey, can you give her our tickets? They’re in my back pocket.”
I reached around and pulled out a travel wallet from his baggy jeans pocket. Although twenty-three years old, Brax still dressed like a grungy teenager. I squeezed his butt.
His eyes flashed to mine, frowning.
I forced a bright smile, handing our documentation to the clerk. I didn’t even check where we were headed, too focused on ignoring the twinges of sadness at not being allowed to grope my boyfriend. Maybe I’m too sexual? My fears were right. I was hardwired all wrong.
“Thank you.” The girl’s eyes dropped, showing heavily shadowed lids. Her brown hair, scraped back into a tight bun, looked plastic with so much hair spray. She bit her lip and pulled out a ream of tickets before checking our passports. “Do you want your bags checked all the way through to Cancun?”
Cancun? My heart soared. Wow. Brax outdid himself. I never would’ve thought he’d travel so far from home. I turned and kissed his cheek. “Thank you so much, Brax.”
His face softened as he captured my hand. “You’re welcome. There’s no better way to celebrate our future, than going to a country that values friendship and family.” He leaned closer. “I read that on Sundays, the streets come alive with strangers dancing. Everyone becomes connected by music.”
I couldn’t tear myself from his crisp blue eyes. That was why I loved him, despite not being completely satisfied. Brax suffered the same insecurities. He didn’t have anyone but me. His parents died in a car accident when he turned seventeen; he was an only child.
Brax owned the apartment we lived in, thanks to the life insurance pay out, and his dad’s husky, Blizzard, came with the bargain.
Blizzard and I didn’t see eye to eye, but Brax loved the dog like a tatty teddy-bear. I tolerated the beast, and kept my handbags far from chewing height.
“You’re the best.” I captured his chin, planting a kiss, not caring he was uncomfortable. Hell, the couple beside us were practically dry humping; a peck on the mouth was PG stuff.
The girl sighed across the counter. “Is this your honeymoon? Cancun is amazing. My boyfriend and I went there a few years ago. So hot and fun. And the music is so sexy, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
Images filled my mind of twirling around Brax in a new sexy bikini. Maybe a change of scenery would amplify our lust.
I said, “No, not our honeymoon. Just a celebration.”
Brax grinned, his eyes sparkling.
An idea ran wild. Was this trip special? Was Brax going to propose? I waited for the heart-flipping joy at becoming Mrs. Cliffingstone, but a swell of comfort filled me instead. I would say yes. 
Brax wanted me. Brax was safe. I loved him in my own way—the way that mattered, the long-lasting kind.
Silence descended while the girl tap-tapped her keyboard and printed off our boarding passes. After tagging our bags, she handed everything back. “Your bags are checked all the way to Mexico, but you’ll have a stop in Los Angeles for four hours.” She circled the gate number and time. “Please make your way through immigration, and proceed to the departure lounge. You board at eleven-thirty.”
Brax took the documentation and shouldered his laptop bag. Linking hands with me, he said, “Thank you.”
We headed toward the Passengers Only lounge. We had little over an hour before boarding. I could think of a lot of things we could do in an hour, but I doubted Brax would be into them.
But we were on our way to Mexico. A different country and a different bed awaited us. I could be patient.
I made up my mind, as Brax browsed the tax-free PlayStation games, that tonight would mark a new beginning for us. Goodbye contentment, hello lust. 
Our relationship was going to rip and roar with love and flame. I would make sure of it.
Yes, tonight things would be different.
I needed different.
Tears of Tess
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Genre – Dark New Adult Contemporary Romance
Rating – PG-18
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Thursday, November 7, 2013

Isabella: Braveheart of France by Colin Falconer @colin_falconer

Chapter 7
An Easter Friday, cold and bright. Edward storms in, trailing clerks and advisers, even a dwarf. Mortimer is there, and old Hugh le Despenser, Lincoln as well.
He has still not given her the dower she was promised and as she cannot afford to keep her own household she now lives in his. She is witness now to all of his moods and travails.
Edward paces relentlessly. He is holding a petition, bunched in his fist. “ “A higher duty is owed to the Crown over the person of the king?” What do they mean by this? I am the Crown.”
“They refer to the institution of kingship,” Mortimer says, refusing to join in the general air of exasperation.
“The institution? There is no institution. I am their king, they should do as I say.”
“What has happened my lord?” she asks him.
For the first time he notices her there. He waves a hand airily at her. “Explain it to her, Mortimer.”
“The barons have demanded my lord Gaveston’s banishment. They say he has misappropriated funds and has turned the king against his own advisers.”
“What funds has he misappropriated?” Edward shouts. “Everything he has I have given him openly. If a king may not give gifts to those who serve him best, what are jewels and land for? They are mine to give, are they not? And yes I listen to him before I listen to any of that crowd. He has my best interests at heart, they don’t.”
“Have all the barons signed this petition?”
“Of those not here tonight only Lancaster still stands with us.”
Isabella is surprised at this. That gargoyle is no friend of Gaveston, if his remarks about barrels and whores is to be believed.
“What does it mean?”
“It means the king should prepare for war,” Lincoln says. He is vast, the Lord Lincoln, the fattest man she has ever seen.
“It means these upstarts will defy their anointed king!” Edward shouts.”
Mortimer is still; old Hugh says I am sure it will not come to that. Edward sees his dwarf and kicks him by way of venting his frustration. The jester hurries to the door and flees.
“Would it not be wise to listen to your barons?” she asks him.
The king stares at her in shock. “What are you doing here?”
“Your grace, I was here when you walked in.”
He looks confused. He puts out a hand as if to block her from his vision.
Mortimer stares at her in surprise, she can see him thinking: look at this slip of a girl, she has an opinion! He turns back to the king. “Perhaps if you just give them what they wish for now,” Mortimer says. “Let this blow over.”
“He’s right,” Old Hugh says. “It would not harm our cause to appear conciliatory.”
“They would not argue with my father, they will not argue with me.”
Mortimer and Lincoln exchange a look; yes, but you are no Longshanks, they are thinking.
“What is it that so offends them? If I love Gaveston, so should they.”
This is too much for Lincoln. “Your grace, who a man loves is a private matter. I have nothing against wives or whores but I should not like to see them at council meetings.”
“Are you calling Perro a whore?”
A man clears his throat. Gaveston is sitting in a window seat, playing himself at chess. The sun comes out and for a moment he glitters with gold. There are jewels on all his fingers. He gives them a slow smile. “I am still here, you know.”
Lincoln waddles towards the king, lowers his voice. “This is what they mean. This conversation should best be kept private. Whenever we have things to discuss, he is always here.”
“I can still hear you,” Gaveston says and checks his own black king with his white knight.
“Can this rebellion stand?” Edward asks old Hugh.
“What makes up a king’s power, your grace? The loyalty of his barons, for they each bring their armies to every cause he fights. But if they are on the other side, then what armies does the king have?”
“Do you know how to bring down a wall?” Mortimer says.
“Fifty men and a battering ram,” Edward says.
“There are subtler ways. Work a chisel into the mortar and work at it until you release one brick. When one brick is out the wall is weakened. Soon you have a large hole. Then you do not even have to bring the wall down, you just walk through it.”
“Your meaning?”
“For now we should stop running full tilt at the wall. Instead you should sidle up to it, examine each brick and find the weakest. Then work at it, until you have it loose.”
Isabella
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Genre – Historical Fiction
Rating – PG-13
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The Color Pink by Parker Paige @parkerpaige86

Episode 1
On this cold, crisp fall day, I try my best to look enthusiastic as my best friend, Sarah Jane, gives me the rundown of what she plans for my thirty-fifth birthday.
"Here's what I have planned for us today," Sarah Jane says, as she and I sit at a café across from the Chicago River. For the last several years, Sarah Jane and I would celebrate our birthdays with a day of pampering, good food, and lots of shopping. This month, I am the birthday child of the moment, and because I am no longer in a romantic relationship, I lack the excitement that I might otherwise experience for my birthday festivities. My last relationship ended a year ago when John David, the man I was supposed to marry, refused to commit to me because of his on-again, off-again relationship with his first love. And now, as I am about to turn thirty-five, I can't help but miss being a couple.
For the two years that John and I were together, John would always gift me with sparkling studded earrings, and my birthday would always end at my place, where we would order out and watch old black and white movies. With each passing thought, I force the memories from my mind. Those days are over now because John and I are no longer together. Despite being in a less than zealous mood, I am going to do my best to enjoy the day anyway.
Sarah Jane reads her list to me. "First, we're going to have a manicure and pedicure at Macy's. Then, I'm taking you shopping for new shoes. That's always fun. Then it's off to Gibson's for dinner, and we will top off the evening with a trip to the Exodus Reggae Bar."
Though Sarah Jane's plans sounds good, I am not feeling the birthday vibe.
"How does that sound?" Sarah Jane asks, seemingly hoping for a shred of enthusiasm.
"It sounds good," I say, trying to hide my lack of exuberance as I continue to give thought to how this day might have played out if John were still in my life.
"Today is a very special day," Sarah Jane says. "Thirty-five is an important milestone, wouldn't you say?"
"Since when is thirty-five a milestone?"
"Every year past thirty is a milestone for any woman."
"There could be some truth to that."
Then, out of nowhere, Sarah Jane seems to pick up on something and say, "I hope you're not sitting there thinking about John."
It is as if Sarah Jane can read my mind. "I am not thinking about him," I say, hoping to convince Sarah Jane of my half-truths.
"Of course, you are."
I am about to tell Sarah Jane what is really on my mind, then hesitate and say nothing.
"What?" Sarah Jane asks.
"I was just thinking. Any chance we can skip this year's celebration?"
"Not a chance." Sarah Jane never did mince words. "We are going to celebrate your birthday…period."
I should know better. There is no way Sarah Jane is going to allow me to skip out on a birthday celebration for any reason. Without an inkling of joy in my soul, I stare at the water glass before me.
"You know, you could be a little more enthusiastic," Sarah Jane says. "It is your birthday."
"And no boyfriend."
"So what, you don't have a boyfriend. You have me."
"Sarah Jane, as much as I love you, it's not the same thing."
"Do you know how many birthdays have come and gone when I didn't have anyone special in my life?"
"Of course, it's easy for you to say this now because you have someone," I say.
"And you will too. You just have to have faith." Sarah Jane leans back in her chair. "Do you ever hear from him?"
"Who?"
"Who do you think? John?"
"No, and I don't expect to either."
"Who are you kidding? You know you're hoping that the two of you will get back together."
"Get back together? With him? I might be crazy, but I'm not insane."
Though there may be a tad bit of truth to what Sarah Jane suggests, my reunion with John is definitely not something I am banking on.
Sarah Jane begins scanning through her iPhone. "I have to find someone for you to have sex with."
My mouth drops open. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You have to get John out of your system."
"John is not in my system."
"Oh yeah? Have you made love to anyone since your breakup with him?"
I know I have not made love to anyone since my breakup with John, haven't even come close, but I am not going to confess this to Sarah Jane so easily. "I'd rather not say."
Sarah Jane smiles as if her point has been fully made and then continues to scan through her iPhone. "According to Samantha Jones, the best way to get over one man is to get underneath another one."
Ever since Sarah Jane and I became loyal fans of the famous TV series Sex and the City, who we identified with always remained the same. Sarah Jane is Samantha, and I would forever be Carrie Bradshaw.
"That kind of advice may work for some women, but I don't think it's the solution to my problem," I say.
Apparently unphased by my statement, Sarah Jane says, "And I have just the person for you, too."
"And who might that be?" I ask with a hint of curiosity.
"There's this really cute attorney at my office, and he's just the man for the job." Being a legal secretary for over 10 years at Ungaretti & Harris, one of Chicago's most prestigious law firms, Sarah Jane always has the skinny on all the Eligibles.
"And what job is that?" I ask.
"The job of getting John out of your system, and if that isn't enough he's also a writer. He writes screenplays, I think."
Being a writer myself, I am very fond of others who write as well. Though I am somewhat interested in Sarah Jane's proposal, I know it will take more than a handsome face to make me forget about John David. "What's his name?" I ask.
"Morgan Moran."
I am not exactly jumping for joy with the prospect of being set up, but maybe meeting someone new might be exactly what I need to ease me out of this lull I find myself in. If I have learned anything from my disappointing relationship with John, it is to never date an unavailable man.
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Genre - Romance
Rating – PG-13
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#Bargain - Second Chance Grill (Liberty Series) by Christine Nolfi @christinenolfi

SecondChanceGrillShaded

Second Chance Grill by Christine Nolfi

Amazon Kindle US

Genre – Women’s Fiction

Rating – PG13

Connect with Christine http://christinenolfi.com/

4.7 (56 reviews)

Only 99 cents until 10th November

An unforgettable tale of love, loss and second chances.
"Human connections have the potential to spread joy far and wide, in this wonderful and highly recommended prequel to Treasure Me." --Midwest Book Review

Dr. Mary Chance needs a sabbatical from medicine to grieve the loss of her closest friend. But when she inherits a struggling restaurant in Liberty, Ohio she isn't prepared for Blossom Perini. Mary can't resist falling for the precocious preteen--or the girl's father. The bond they forge will transform all their lives and set in motion an outpouring of love that spreads across America.
Welcome back to Liberty, where the women surrounding the town's only restaurant are as charming as they are eccentric.

Second Chance Grill is the prequel to Treasure Me, 2012 Next Generation Indie Awards Finalist and book two of the Liberty Series.

#DangerousAttraction Romantic Suspense Boxed Set by @Loriryanauthor Kaylea Cross, Jill Sanders, Toni Anderson, Dana Marton, Lori Ryan, Debra Burroughs, Patricia Rosemoor, Marie Astor, Rebecca York, Sharon Hamilton


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10 Award-winning, bestselling authors – 10 Hot Heroes – 10 Romantic Suspense Page Turners
99 CENTS FOR ONE WEEK ONLY!
With nine full-size novels from bestselling romantic suspense authors and a brand new Christmas novella from New York Times bestselling author, Rebecca York, this boxed set can’t be missed. Sexy, steamy heroes to heat you up and twisting plots to keep you turning page after page well past midnight!
Grab it at the introductory price of 99 cents. That’s 10 books for less than a buck!
From sweet to scorcher, these stories are a must read. Fall in love with our sexy cops, tough military heroes, and hot CEOs. Treat yourself to an amazing reading experience by top authors of romantic suspense collected in one boxed set at a price that can’t be beat.
Ignited by award-winning and national bestselling author, Kaylea Cross – Can sexy ex-SEAL Hunter Phillips keep Khalia safe from the terrorists who took her father’s life? (Scorcher)
Secret Guardian by international bestselling author, Jill Sanders – Will ex-special forces hero, Ethan, save Ann in time, only to lose himself to love? (Scorcher)
Deathscape by Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence recipient and Rita Award finalist, Dana Marton – Detective Jack Sullivan will do anything to put Ashley in prison for her crimes…even if he’s falling in love with her. (Sensual)
Legal Ease by award winning and national bestselling author Lori Ryan – Marrying Kelly solved the problems this steamy CEO faced at his company, but will he ever be able to forgive himself for the price she has to pay? (Scorcher)
The Killing Game by international bestselling author, Toni Anderson –Forced to choose between his country and his heart, British SAS Soldier, Ty Dempsey risks it all to save a wildlife biologist caught in the crosshairs of a ruthless killer. (Sensual)
Fallen SEAL Legacy by national bestselling author, Sharon Hamilton – Will Navy SEAL Cooper be able to survive the loss of the woman he loves, or will his self-sacrifice be enough to keep Libby safe? (Scorcher)
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See Me in Your Dreams by Patricia Rosemoor, Golden Heart Winner and two-time recipient of the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award – Her dreams allow her to see through his missing daughter's eyes, but he thinks she’s a con woman...until she dreams of something known only to him and the girl. (Sensual)
Catching the Bad Guy by national bestselling author, Marie Astor – Top-notch white collar crime investigators Janet Maple and Dennis Walker team up to solve what could be the biggest case of their careers, but will their attraction to each other get in the way? (Sensual)
Bonus Christmas Novella, Christmas Captive by Romantic Times Career Achievement Award Winner and Rita Finalist, Rebecca York – Her special sight let her glimpse the Christmases past of this international financier, but did he have a Christmas future? (Scorcher)















Genre - Romantic Suspense
Rating – R
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#AmReading – Gotcha! by Christie Craig @Christie_Craig

Gotcha! by Christie Craig

Amazon

Live...Laugh...Read...with New York Times-bestselling author Christie Craig....
"...Fans of Janet Evanovich should check (Craig) out." -- Parkersburg News and Sentinel on DIVORCED, DESPERATE AND DELICIOUS.
Macy Tucker was five years old when her beloved grandfather dropped dead in his spaghetti. At twelve, her father left his family in the dust. At twenty-five, her husband gave his secretary a pre-Christmas bonus in bed, and Macy gave him the boot. To put things lightly, men have been undependable.
That's why dating's off the menu. Macy is focused on putting herself through law school -- which means being the delivery girl for Papa's Pizza. But cheesier than her job is her pie-eyed brother, who just recently escaped from prison to protect his new girlfriend. And hotter than Texas toast is the investigating detective. Proud, sexy...inflexible, he's a man who would kiss her just to shut her up. But Jake Baldwin's a protector as much as a dish. And when he gets his man -- or his woman -- Macy knows it's for life.

Author Interview – Samantha Warren @_samanthawarren


What do you consider the most challenging about writing a novel, or about writing in general? Not growing comfortable or lazy in your writing. You must always be improving and striving to become a better writer. If you let yourself think you’ve learned all you can, then your writing will suffer.
Did writing this book teach you anything and what was it? It taught me that I’m terrible at writing love scenes and should stay away from those.
Do you intend to make writing a career? Absolutely. I dream about having a lakeside cabin where I can sit and write all day long.
Have you developed a specific writing style? I think my writing tends to be a bit quirky and fun. I also have a lot of action. Description is not one of my strong suits.
What is your greatest strength as a writer? Definitely my action scenes. They drive my books.
Have you ever had writer’s block?If so, what do you do about it? I don’t really believe in writer’s block. I think it’s a lack of motivation. The trick is figuring out how to get past that. Deadlines help me a lot.


The Iron Locket
She was raised to hunt faeries. He was raised from the dead.
***
Aiofe Callaghan comes from a long line of faery hunters. Hired by one of the faery queens, they protect the human world from chaos and destruction. But when Aiofe stumbles through an open door into the land of Faery, she discovers the job isn’t as simple as it seems, and neither is she.
Arthur Pendragon spent centuries in blissful nothingness, until the day the four queens banded together to raise him from the dead. Along with his twelve most talented knights, he leads the warring armies of Faery against the greatest enemy they have ever known: one of their own.
Can they overcome their differences to confront the greatest challenges either of them have ever faced?
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Genre –  Paranormal Romance
Rating – PG
More details about the author & the book
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