Tuesday, May 23, 2017

New Release: Joy to His World by Clare Dargin


Chris Spinell, Jilly Reimers, and Chris 'Nate' Poole are happily married. Now, living in a small town run by The Love Play Matchmaking Service, Chris Spinell hopes his family is safely away from the possible dangers that come from living in a big city.

Jilly and Nate cherish the life they have with Chris. They even love the fact that he is their Dom. BDSM gives them the structure and sense of belonging they've always wanted. However, life in Minaqua doesn't give Chris the peace of mind he needs in order to quell his anxieties. The scars from his time in Afghanistan run so deep, Chris' PTSD will not allow him to escape the fears that his family is at constant risk for harm.

When a stranger comes to town seeking to harm Jilly and Nate, Chris' protective instincts are put to the test. Will he deal with this reasonably, or will he do whatever it takes to defend his family, including breaking a solemn oath?

EXCERPT

He thought about how far his life had come in such a short time. In less than ten years, he’d gone from an ex-Special Forces soldier searching for his place in the world, to an MIT graduate, to owning the second largest independently owned and operated software integration firm in Michigan. But all of that was nothing compared to the real change that happened when his sister had recommended that he join a dating service to cure his less-than-stellar love life. And Love Play had done that and much more. In their own mysterious way, they’d managed to look into his heart and find the man and woman of his dreams. Literally. The images of Jilly and Nate had haunted his dreams after he returned from Afghanistan. During that time, he didn’t know it was them, but after he met them and they spent the night together, he knew they were the ones.

How his Eros, his matchmaker at Love Play, had known baffled him. Nevertheless, he was profoundly grateful that the man or woman, or whoever his Eros was, had put the three of them together. Now, they were married, and he was happier than he’d ever been in his life. Add to it that their love had become so deep that it had blossomed into a beautiful dominant-submissive relationship with them.

The car’s internal phone rang. It was Jilly. He pressed the icon on the car’s dashboard screen and answered.

“Hi, honey, what’s up?” he asked. He was always glad to hear Jilly’s voice.

He grasped his chest, hoping the ache would fade as he longed to see her.

“I was going over the arrangements for the party,” she said. Her sweet voice was a dulcet tone that calmed him.

“I’m thinking about how people should dress,” she said, “and the basic rules for the party.”

Jilly had the great idea to plan a Christmas party for them and their BDSM friends to be held at Love Play’s mansion. When she’d mentioned it in August, he hadn’t been wild about the idea. But after a lot of cajoling from her and Nate, they’d convinced him, and he’d given her the permission to go for it, which meant they were going to attend, too.

“High protocol is not something we do, but there’s no reason that should stop other Doms from having that with their submissives. As for clothing, you know my rules for you, too. You aren’t allowed to wear anything too revealing. The only person allowed to see your ass is me and Nate, and that’s when he’s not in trouble.”

It wasn’t as if he made them walk around with bolts of fabric hanging off their bodies, but their sexuality belonged to him.

“Dueño, that was a long time ago,” Nate said, pouting.

“It won’t happen again.”

Right after Chris had collared them, Nate bought Jilly a pair of tight jeans, high heels, and a shirt that was so form fitting it showed everything the Lord had blessed her with in the chest and told her to wear his prized choker collar. Chris had damn near had a heart attack when they came home from a late lunch in Cutlerville.

“Dueño, I know what your rules are for us. What about the party? Kink for everyone?”

He had no appetite for that yet. He cared for his friends, especially his army buddies, the Propietarios who were into BDSM, but he wasn’t ready to see them go all out.

“This is casual, vanilla only. Leather is permitted but please do not go all out,” Chris said.

“All right, got it.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, worried. “Still feeling worn down?”

She was at home trying to get over the remnants of a cold that lingered, giving her all sorts of problems like a fever and upset stomach. She’d feel good one moment, and then, wham, she’d have to rest because she’d be too tired to move. Despite his protests, she refused to go to the doctor again.

“Somewhat.”

He sighed. “Don’t wear yourself out today. Get some rest. That’s an order. If you aren’t better by tomorrow, we’re going downtown.”

The DMC, Detroit Medical Center, was the major medical complex in the area. It was over an hour away, and he would gladly drive her to find out what was wrong. He was not willing to risk her well-being for her selfish pride or a dumb party. He hated when she was not feeling well or was in pain. He wanted to be able to shield her from the worst the world could give so she’d be able to live a life of love and happiness. She deserved that much and more. To say he loved her would be an understatement. Heck, it wouldn’t even describe the depths of his intense feelings for them. They owned him as much as he owned them. It didn’t feel right if they weren’t healthy and safe.

“I will take it easy.”

“Okay. I love you,” Chris said.

“Love you, too,” she replied. “Love you, too, Nate.”

“I’ll call you later on to see how you are doing,” Nate said.

Chris ended the call.

“Do you think she’ll obey?” Nate asked.
Buy Link http://www.bookstrand.com/book/joy-to-his-world

Blog Links
Clare's Blog 2: The Haven- https://claresblog2thehaven.blogspot.com
The Embraced: Scribal Love- https://theembraced.blogspot.com

Social Media Links
Facebook http://www.facebook.com/clare.dargin
Twitter http://www.twitter.com/claredargin
Google Plus https://plus.google.com/u/0/104105806378510076277

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Debut Novel: A Hundred Kisses by Jean M. Grant

Character Interview with Alasdair Montgomerie

Where are you from? Did you have a happy childhood? I hail from near Eaglesham, Scotland. My childhood – uh, no. My mother’s dead. My father, well, he’s the one who had her killed. And he’s a -. Yeah. I’d rather not talk about it. Next question?

Where do you live now and what do you do for a living? Is there something you'd rather be doing?
I prefer to not disclose where I live right now. Keeping a low profile, traveling as a trader, you see. Secretly, I fight for the Cause to restore the rightful heir upon the Scottish throne while a ruthless English King slays all the Contenders. I’ve got a vile baron hunting me, too.

What's going on in your life right now?
I’m making my way to the isles to relay pivotal information for the Cause. [coughs] I mean, uh, I’m traveling to the Isle of Uist for trade – salt and fish. Yes, yes. That’s right. And my name – could you scratch that above? It’s actually Sir Aleck Stirrat. Hey, don’t look at me that way. It’s complicated, aye?

Is there someone special in your life? Well, on my way to the isles, I encountered an enchanting lass, Deirdre, near the village of Dornie. There’s a fire about her from which I can’t pull myself.

How did you meet? What's his/her family like? She’s mysterious, breathtaking. But, her cook and confidante told me that Deirdre’s cursed – she needs to be wooed by a hundred kisses or something like that. Her father, the Laird of Eilean Donan, seems pretty eager to see his daughter married. Something fishy going on there. But like I said, she’s a captivating lass. Lots of spunk. Not your typical lady.

What's keeping you two apart? A few too many secrets. I sense that she has a few of her own.

What one thing could you do that would make you feel like the relationship will work out? Well, I need to tell her about my haunted past. And, by cravens, I lied to her about my identity. For the Cause’s sake, I’ve needed to travel under a guise, and well, she doesn’t know who I truly am. I surely messed it up, didn’t I?

Any last comments?
Look, are we done? I need to get going to Uist. My friends are waiting for me there.
Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/Hundred-Kisses-Jean-M-Grant-ebook/dp/B06XPH5XX2
The Wild Rose Press Ebook: http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/5014-a-hundred-kisses.html
Paperback: http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/paperback-books/5070-a-hundred-kisses-paperback.html

Interview with Jean M. Grant, Author of A Hundred Kisses.

What made you decide to be an author? My love of words and the fictional worlds that I can get lost in. Diana Gabaldon and JK Rowling are my inspirations. I could also be called a daydream believer.

What do you like best about being a writer? What do you like the least? Being able to write anything I want and using paper as an emotional outlet. It’s cheaper than therapy. What I like least? The long road of querying and rejection. But it all pays off in the end and I become a better writer for it.

How do you think your life experiences have prepared you for writing? I’ve been fortunate to travel to some amazing places, meet interesting people. I love to use them in my stories. I also have been working on a novel that uses my science background and family experiences.

Have you ever felt as if you were being dictated to while you wrote a book--as if the words came of their own accord? If yes, which book did that happen with? I think all books (and characters) speak to us. We’re not sure where our characters are going sometimes, but it’s a remarkable ride!

You’ve written 3 unpublished, and 1 published novel and are working on a 5th (querying that one; mainstream women’s fiction) and 6th novel (prequel to A Hundred Kisses). What’s your favorite time management tip? Nooks and crannies. Write when you can. I love early mornings. No need to write every day, but do be intentional with your writing time. You have to make the time for it.

Are you a plotter or a pantser, i.e., do you outline your books ahead of time or are you an “organic” writer? I am a plotter first, but sometimes I go pants-ing, typically in the middle of my book. Sometimes scenes will pop into my mind, so I write them and find a home for them later. I do love a good outline and GMC chart. I tend to plot heavily first, then fill in the character development.
If you had one take away piece of advice for authors, what would it be? The three P’s: Patience, Perseverance, and Putting in the time. Don’t give up on your dream, no matter how long it takes.
Did music help you find your muse with this book? If yes, which song did you find yourself going back to over and over again as you wrote? I love Enya, and movie scores

Tell me more about A Hundred Kisses.
1296
Two wedding nights. Two dead husbands.
Deirdre MacCoinneach wishes to understand her unusual ability to sense others’ lifeblood energies…and vows to discover if her gift killed the men she married. Her father’s search for a new and unsuspecting suitor for Deirdre becomes complicated when rumors of witchcraft abound.

Under the façade of a trader, Alasdair Montgomerie travels to Uist with pivotal information for a Claimant seeking the Scottish throne. A ruthless baron hunts him and a dark past haunts him, leaving little room for alliances with a Highland laird or his tempting daughter.

Awestruck when she realizes that her unlikely travel companion is the man from her visions, a man whose thickly veiled emotions are buried beneath his burning lifeblood, Deirdre wonders if he, too, will die in her bed if she follows her father’s orders. Amidst magic, superstition, and ghosts of the past, Alasdair and Deirdre find themselves falling together in a web of secrets and the curse of a hundred kisses…

How about an excerpt from A Hundred Kisses?
She sensed no colors in the murky, lifeless water, and it was freeing. All breath escaped her. Muted visions passed before her eyes—her mother, her father, Gordon, and Cortland. Just a moment longer, she thought…

Suddenly, a burst of warm light invaded her thoughts as air filled her lungs. Red-hot hands burned her shoulders and ripped her from her icy grave. She breathed life into her body. She coughed, gagging on the change.

Muffled words yelled at her.

Oh, God, so hot. His fingers were like hot pokers. Her head pounded as she slowly returned to the present. Heat radiated from her rescuer. Somebody had pulled her from the water.

“Wh—?”

“Hush, lass. You nearly drowned.”

His voice was as soothing as a warm cup of goat’s milk on a winter’s day. A red-hot glow emanated from his body. Never before had she felt such a strong lifeblood, and it nearly burned her. She struggled in his arms to get free. She blinked, only seeing a blurry form before her. “Release me!”

She splashed and wriggled, and he did as told. She clambered to the shoreline. Numb and shaken, she began to dress. It wasn’t easy as she fumbled with slick fingers to put dry clothes over wet skin. She instantly regretted her naked swim. She pulled on her long-sleeved white chemise first.

She faced the forest, away from her rescuer. He quietly splashed to shore. His lifeblood burned into her back. He wasn’t far behind, but he stopped. She refused to look at him until she was fully clothed, not out of embarrassment of her nudity, but for what had just happened. He released a groan and mumbled under his breath about wet boots. His voice was not one of her father’s soldiers.

When she put the last garment on, her brown wool work kirtle, she squeezed out her sopping hair and swept her hands through the knotty mess. She fastened her belt and tied the lacings up the front of the kirtle. Blood returned to her fingertips, and she regained her composure. Belated awareness struck her, and she leaned down and searched through her bag for her dagger. She spun around.

She gasped as she saw the man sitting on the stone-covered shoreline, his wet boots off. Confusion and the hint of a scowl filled his strong-featured face. She staggered back, caught her heel on a stone, and fell, dropping the dagger. Dirt and pebbles stuck to her wet hands and feet, and she instinctively scrambled away from him.

His glower, iridescent dark blue eyes, and disheveled black hair were not unfamiliar. Staring at her was the man she had seen in her dream—it was the man from the wood.
Jean Grant is a scientist, part-time education director, and a mom. She currently resides in Massachusetts and draws from her interests in history, science, the outdoors, and her family for inspiration. She enjoys writing non-fiction articles for family-oriented and travel magazines, and aspires to write children’s books while continuing to write novels. In 2008, she visited the land of her daydreams, Scotland, and it was nothing short of breathtaking. Jean enjoys tending to her flower gardens, tackling the biggest mountains in New England with her husband, and playing with her sons, while daydreaming about the next hero to write about...

Website: http://www.jeanmgrant.com
Twitter: @JeanGrant05
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jeanmgrantauthor/

Jean, thank you so much for being with us here today. I know my readers will enjoy your work and your interviews.

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

TROUBLED SPIRITS SPIRIT VOICES SERIES – BOOK ONE By Sandy Wolters



Jody has been a conduit for ghosts her entire life. Not only do they come to her for help, but at times she experiences what they feel when they die. This gift or curse comes at a high personal cost—especially when a child is involved. There’s not a man alive who is willing to compete with troubled spirits.

Jared, a wealthy and determined high-powered P.I., has lived without love his entire life. In business if he wants something, he goes after it with a vengeance and is usually not denied. His life experiences have taught him that believing and trusting in others is a dead end street.

But on one magical night Jared meets Jody, and they soon find themselves on the brink of falling in love. But will the spirits surrounding Jody relinquish their hold on her in order for Jared to stake his claim or will their love disappear in an ethereal puff of smoke?

Excerpt 

Chapter One
Startled from a deep sleep, Jody opened her eyes to find a young child’s misty form sitting on the bed—tears streaming down her face. As it often happened with kids that cry for any length of time, the poor little girl’s sobs were punctuated with hiccups.
Groggy from sleep, her first instinct had her reaching out to embrace the small girl and offer whatever solace she could. Tendrils of unease spiraled through Jody’s body when her fingers unexpectedly encountered cold air instead of warm flesh. Her mind roused instantly. She knew at once this child was dead. Spirits had none of the warmth of the living—though they possessed all the same passions.
As she rose to a sitting position, her heart couldn’t help but break for the tiny, cherubic girl who somehow had found a way onto her bed. The heavy weight of the child’s despair settled squarely on Jody’s shoulders. As the realization of the spirit visitation hit home, she found herself in the unenviable position of having no clue how to appease the little girl. She’d just have to stay the course and watch as the child exhausted her pain-laden tears enough to calm herself and speak her mind. Maybe that was all the little angel wanted from her.
Waiting through the weeping and hiccups proved to be agonizing. Several tense minutes passed until finally this beautiful little girl with auburn hair raised her cobalt blue eyes to gaze into Jody’s soul. “I’m Fiona. I want to talk to my mommy and daddy.

Purchase Links:
The Wild Rose Press Purchase Links:
Author Links:
Twitter ID: @SandyWolters
Blog Link: Sandy’s Spotlight


Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Hi Readers,
I've got a treat for you. I'm one of the sponsors of the Night Owl Reviews Spring Fling Scavenger Hunt.
During this event I'm going to help you find some great new books. Make sure to check my featured title out along the way.
The grand prize is a $100 Amazon Gift Card. There will be over 90 winners. The prize pool is $850!
Enter Now at: https://www.nightowlreviews.com/v5/Blog/Articles/Spring-Fling-2017


When hotel inspector, Tallulah Thompson, is called in along with her pug, Franny, to investigate renovation delays, she meets an extremely annoyed and dapper turn-of-the-century innkeeper. The only problem is he’s in limbo, neither dead nor alive, and Tallulah and the pug are the first to see him in a hundred years.

Cursed by a medicine woman, “Love ‘em and Leave ‘em Lucius” Stewart is stuck between worlds until he finds his true love and gives her his heart. When he first sees Tallulah, he doesn’t know what he’s feeling. Yet, her stunning beauty, and feisty attitude pull him in.

With the fate of Hotel LaBelle on the line, Tallulah with the help of a powerful medicine woman turns Lucius back into a flesh and blood man. She and Lucius team up to save the hotel, but Tallulah can't help but wonder if he will ever let go of his past love and learn to love again.

Excerpt:
A book flew at his head—and sailed through him, bouncing off the wall and landing on the floor.

Mouth agape, the woman stared from him to the book and back to him again. “You’re a ghost.”

“Not exactly. Shall we start over?” He leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. “After a hundred years of being invisible to everyone except you, I’d like to know who you are and what you’re doing here.”

“Of course. Why not? Could today get any weirder?” She sank into the desk chair, shook her head, and sighed. “My name is Tallulah Thompson. I’m a hotel inspector, hired by the current owner as a consultant to find out why the renovations are delayed and what he needs to do to fix it. He’s teetering on the brink of bankruptcy.”

“What tribe are you?”

She jerked her head up and those doggone lapis lazuli eyes of hers sparked as if she’d strike him with lightning and kill him with one look. “No one asks that. It’s not politically correct.”

“Well, I guess you haven’t been talking to the right people. And I don’t know what you mean by that last part. I’ve never been involved in politics.”

“Nowadays, it’s considered rude to ask about another person’s national origins.” She threw her hands up. “Why am I giving a ghost an etiquette lesson? What am I thinking?”

BUY: The Wild Rose Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | All Romance | iBooks | Kobo | Bookstrand

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

Debut Novel: Second Chance in Laguna by Claire Marti

When Sophie Barnes’s fiancé jilts her at the altar, her carefully planned life implodes. Considering her ex’s betrayal to be a rude wake-up call, she leaves everything she knows in San Diego and flees to Laguna Beach. She vows to transform her life by avoiding men for a year and by fulfilling her dream of writing a wildly successful novel. 

Sophie’s new landlord, Nicholas Morgan, is a gorgeous, successful architect with a player reputation. He makes it tough for Sophie to remember that she’s sworn to be single. Nick’s avoided the intimacy of a long-term relationship--until Sophie’s independence, courage, and beauty touch his guarded heart. Both Sophie and Nick are terrified of being hurt again, but can they resist the pull of true love?

EXCERPT
Nick arrived right on time, looking gorgeous in faded jeans and a plain white t-shirt. How did he always manage to start the butterflies fluttering in her stomach? Just by standing there with the setting sun framing him? She was in trouble.

“Hi beautiful, ready to go?” He clasped her face in his hands and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

Returning his kiss, Sophie wound her arms around his neck and deepened it. She couldn’t resist. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her close to his broad chest.

“Mmmm, feel free to greet me like that every time I come over,” he said, lips curved up into a sweet smile.

Heat washed her cheeks and she returned his smile. “Let’s go. Prepare to be blown away by the movie snack of the century.”

Determined to keep things light and enjoy the movie before “the talk,” Sophie thrust down the lick of panic bubbling in her gut. She’d accomplished next to nothing all afternoon, instead wrestling with whether she needed to tell him about Doug.

The angel on her shoulder whispered to tell him because if they were going to have any kind of relationship, even a friends-with-benefits one, honesty and trust were vital.

The devil urged her to zip it. They’d only known each other a few weeks. What if he lived up to his “Player of Laguna” reputation and expected only a fun fling? Even though he seemed deeper than that. What if she scared him off with a premature talk?
BUY LINKS:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2kafVLW
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.: http://bit.ly/2jk8iQY
Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/2mpGgq9
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/second-chance-in-laguna
iBooks:  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/second-chance-in-laguna/id1196981760?mt=11

Claire Marti
started writing stories as soon as she was old enough to pick up pencil and paper. After graduating from the University of Virginia with a BA in English Literature, Claire was sidetracked by other careers, including practicing law, selling software for legal publishers, and managing a non-profit animal rescue for a Hollywood actress.

Finally, Claire followed her heart and now focuses on two of her true passions: writing romance and teaching yoga. Her debut releases from The Wild Rose Press on March 31, 2017 and is the first in the Finding Forever in Laguna series.

WEBSITE: www.clairemarti.com
Twitter: @clairepmarti
FB: https://www.facebook.com/ClaireMartiAuthor/

Thursday, March 30, 2017

New Release: To Hell in a Coach Bag by MJ Schiller

Four Midwest lunch ladies on a cross-country road trip...
But the road to love can be rocky. What can save Alex’s marriage when her hubby’s driving her crazy? How can Max ever feel close to her man again when he never puts out? And just when Dani and Tucker are getting close, dreams of Darren’s death begin to haunt her. Can she move past them? And what about Sam? Although Kyle’s logged some serious ice time, her cold shoulder may put his heart in perma-freeze.
Is happiness around the next corner? Or are these four women simply headed TO HELL IN A COACH BAG?

They may be on the road to Hell, but at least they’d enjoy the trip.
 EXCERPT: Tucker’s (hero) POV
The heads popped up in unison, and Maxine stared at Sam who was pale as a ghost. "I am so sorry."
"That's okay," Sam answered quickly.

"Okay?" Alex screamed. "That's a four-hundred-dollar Coach purse."

That got my attention. I stuck out my head. "Excuse me, ladies, but I couldn't help but overhear. Did you say four-hundred-dollar purse?"

"Oh, Tucker," Maxine wailed, grabbing ahold of my shirt with both fists. "You have to get that purse."

"O-o-okay." Was she the next to crack? I started to leave, but Max called me back.

"Oh, and Tucker, be careful."

"I will," I replied, bewildered. It wasn't like I was going to have to scale the edge of the building to get it. There were stairs.

It was not until I got below that I understood her statement. The billion-dollar purse was stuck on a tree branch hanging over a muddy ravine separating the tennis courts from the outer courtyard. Here and there, quaint little bridges crossed the ravine. There had been some recent mountain storms, and it was plenty full at that point. I looked up to the balcony where the three women watched me.

"How much did you say this purse cost?" I yelled.

"Four-hundred dollars," they yelled in unison.

As I leaned against the tree trunk and took off my loafers, I glared at them, wondering about the twisty path that brought me to this. I jumped and caught a low branch, then muscled my way to sit on it.

"Oh, my!" Maxine exclaimed.

I analyzed the branch the purse was hooked on and noted no branches were near enough to reach it. One above it appeared questionable, with patches of stripped bark. I climbed higher, hoping to angle my way down, and finally made it to a position where I was directly above it. I laid flat on the branch, holding on with one hand. The other I tried to extend to the purse. I was within inches. Pushing a little farther, I leaned to my right and gave my reach the added inch, and I snagged it.

"Got it!" I called triumphantly. But as I did, my weight carried me around the branch, and I found myself hanging upside down, with my arms and legs wrapped around the branch. Squeals of delight came from the Musketeers, but I ignored them and concentrated on my predicament.

I needed to free my hands to walk myself back in, so I stuck the handle of the purse in my mouth, careful not to leave bite marks on the expensive leather. But when I returned my hand to the branch, an unpleasant noise sounded over the rush of the water below. I prayed the crack came from another branch, and held very still, just in case. To my relief, nothing happened.

Until I began to inch back toward the trunk, at which point a very loud CRACK rent the air. Oh shit. My stomach lurched as I fell through the air, hitting several smaller branches on my way down. I landed with a thud on the soggy bank.

From above came a threefold gasp, followed by a hushed silence.

I assessed my condition, moving to determine if anything was broken. Sore yes, broken no. So, I rose, covered in mud like a horror movie swamp monster. It was smeared on my face, in my hair, and all over my white shirt. I held out my hands as they dripped and looked at my trio of spectators.
"Oh, good. You still have it," Sam yelled happily.
Links ~ For MJ
Website: www.mjschillerauthor.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/MJ-Schiller-Romance-Author/286382241460365?ref=hl
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/mjschiller/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/mjschiller
Tumblr: http://mjschilz.tumblr.com/
Instagram: http://instagram.com/mjschiller
Google + : https://plus.google.com/u/0/110797684036386240402/posts
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6479377.M_J_Schiller
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/M.J.-Schiller/e/B009JOQFQQ/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

BUY LINK: TO HELL IN A COACH BAG
Amazon:  http://mybook.to/ToHellInACoachBag

M.J. Schiller
is a lunch lady/romance-romantic suspense writer. She enjoys writing novels whose characters include rock stars, desert princes, teachers, futuristic Knights, construction workers, cops, and a wide variety of others. In her mind everybody has a romance. She is the mother of a twenty-two-year-old and three twenty-year-olds. That's right, triplets! So having recently taught four children to drive, she likes to escape from life on occasion by pretending to be a rock star at karaoke. However…you won’t be seeing her name on any record labels soon.

Monday, March 27, 2017

New Release: Lapses of Memory by M.S. Spencer


She stopped his meandering with her lips. His arms went tentatively around her. For a minute they floated in a cocoon of mist, the voices and music fading into the background. She drowned in a mixture of new feelings and old memories, of hope and despair, of the past and the possibility, hitherto unanticipated, of a future.”

Thank you so much for having me today, Sharon. I want to talk about my new romantic suspense, Lapses of Memory, and share a little background.
One of my favorite pre-release activities is deciding on the Dedication. For The Mason’s Mark—which I wrote while my house was being renovated—the dedication went to the team of contractors who not only made it happen, but were amazingly accommodating to the owner being constantly underfoot because she had to finish her story. The Penhallow Train Incident was dedicated to my adorable granddaughter, who was actually born (in a baby pool) in our house in Maine. My new release, Lapses of Memory, is, I confess, a teensy bit autobiographical. And while Elian Davies, the hero, is nothing like Michael R, they are both first-and-forever loves. It also took both Sydney and me many years to realize it. Luckily for Sydney, it wasn’t too late. For me, I will spend the rest of my life doing what Sydney fears will happen to her daughter Olivia.
Excerpt (G): Olivia’s choice
Sydney waited until she heard the door slam and sprinted to the drawing room. Taking a wary look around, she slipped the notebook out of what Olivia mistakenly believed to be a hiding place. Ha. She turned to the last page and read.
She got in the cab. “I’ll write when I get home.”
He nodded. “Sure.”
She blew him a kiss. He caught it and blew it back. She gazed into his eyes, his English eyes, cold as the whiskey and warm as the dew. They shimmered. He waved but turned away before she could lift an unsteady hand.
She gave her instructions to the driver. No point in looking back. She looked. Nothing but the back of his head, cocoa brown waves of hair, thinning slightly. Moving away.
It was over.
Sydney closed the notebook and put it away. Over? Except that, unless I fix this, every night in the shower for the next twenty years, she’ll think of him.
Lapses of Memory,

Sydney Bellek first meets Elian Davies in the 1950s on a Boeing 377 Stratocruiser when she is five and he is seven. They run into each other every few years after that, but while he knows from the start that she is his true love, she does not. Later, as rival journalists, they vie for scoops on international crises from the Iranian revolution to the Lebanese civil war. The handsome and intrepid Elian beats her out at every turn, even while keeping his love for her secret.

Only after years of separation does she finally realize they are meant to be together, but this time, in a twist of fate, it is Elian whose memory of her is gone. Will he remember her before she loses heart or will their new love be enough to replace the old one?

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Although M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents, the last thirty years were spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director, and parent. After many years in academia, she worked for the U.S. Senate, the U.S. Department of the Interior, in several library systems, both public and academic, and at the Torpedo Factory Art Center.
Ms. Spencer has published ten romantic suspense novels, and has two more in utero. She has two fabulous grown children and an incredible granddaughter. She divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.
Contacts
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