Can’t Find A Good Book?

Hello every one. Are you looking for that one great book? That one that grabs you and pulls in you so close that there is no way you can seperate yourself from it until the very end, until you turn that last page? Can’t find it? Well I know a place that has just what you are searching for. It’s Soul Mate Publishing. Whether you are in the mood for a suspenseful thriller that give you the chills, a historical romance that will sweep you away or even an otherworldly sci-fi adventure, or something entirely different and unique, Soul Mate Publishing has over  25 different genres to choose from. And with tons of talented writers, you are bound to find that one, elusive book. The one that you just can’t put down. So stop on by and start searching for your newest adventure. Enjoy!

This Week’s Read: Angela Scavone!!

Hi everybody. This week I am hosting Angela Scavone and her book, A Journey Home. It is a mix of romance, mystery, and danger.  Just by reading the blurb and excerpt, I know it one book that I will have to check out. It fully grabbed my attention and I am sure that it will do the same for you. So take a minute to read a little bit more about this book and the wonderful Angela Scavone. Enjoy!!
Title: A Journey Home
Stephanie Tyler’s sole job is to fly overseas to war torn areas of the world to retrieve and escort the bodies of fallen soldiers back home to the United States. It is a tough and emotional job but she is honored for the privilege. Her duty also helps her to escape her past and her failed marriage.                                                              
 But those flights have become increasingly more dangerous and she is forced to have a partner accompany her. Much to Stephanie’s surprise and dismay, she is partnered up with her ex-husband, Captain “D.A.” Douglas Aston.            
 From the moment Captain D.A. enters the scene, he irritates her. It could have something to do with the fact he slept with her best friend while they were married. As they go on several missions together, Stephanie is forced to be courteous and professional with D.A. even though the very sight of him irritates her beyond comprehension.        
Then, Stephanie’s cheating, husband stealing, ex-best friend is killed in Afghanistan and Stephanie and D.A. must escort her body home. While executing this difficult duty, a myriad of conflicting emotions makes Stephanie ponder how short life really is . . . and to question her own ability to forgive. 
The phone intercom buzzed and Pam came over the speaker. “Sorry to interrupt, Colonel, but you wanted me to let you know when Captain Aston was here.”
I stared at the Colonel wide-eyed.
He merely smiled and said, “Thanks, Pam. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“He’s here now?” I asked, incredulously.
“Didn’t I mention that?” He rose from his chair and walked to the door as I stood and straightened my uniform.
The Colonel stood with his hand on the doorknob, watching me fuss. “You look tremendous, Captain.”
“What? Oh I don’t care what I look like for him,” I immediately protested, waving my hand in the air.
“Of course.” He was still smiling as he opened the door. “Captain Aston, please come in.”
I heard his voice first. “Thank you, Colonel.”
I glanced down at my uniform to make sure everything was in place before he came into the room. When I looked back up, Captain Aston was walking through the door.
To the female eye, he was a very attractive man. He stood at six-four and was well built, but not so much that muscles and tendons were popping out everywhere. He had a strong jaw and black hair just long enough to run your fingers through. Dressed in full uniform, his handsome features were even more prominent.
Not that I noticed.
“Please come in and we can discuss your new role.”
“Yes, Sir.” Captain DA put out his hand for me to shake, flashing his killer smile that started in his bright blue eyes and ended in a set of mouth-framing dimples. “Good to see you again, Captain.”
I returned his smile and handshake, determined to be professional in front of the Colonel even if it killed me.
Colonel Madison resumed his place behind his desk. “Please sit. This is a quick, informal meeting to get reacquainted with each other.”
I remained on my feet which kept both men standing. “Sir, with all due respect,” I began, facing the Colonel, “I cannot work with Captain Aston.” Apparently, my mouth wasn’t on board with being professional.
“Why not?” DA asked, sounding offended.
I ignored his question and kept my attention on the Colonel, who looked as if he were about to laugh. “We used to be married.”
“I know that.” He smiled.
“Our marriage did not end on a positive note,” I continued, “and I don’t think I can work with him on a day to day basis. In fact, I left Virginia to get away from him.”
“You know, I’m standing right here,” DA chimed in.
“Captain Tyler, are you telling me you can’t put your differences aside to work together as a team? Even though I asked you as a personal favor?” The Colonel’s smile had vanished and there was now a warning in his tone.
“No, Sir.” I heard the warning and decided it was time to back off the fight. “I’ll try putting our differences aside to work together, but I can’t promise I won’t kill him in the process.”
The Colonel coughed out a chuckle. “That’s all I can ask for. Now, you—hopefully—have some time off before another call comes in. Why don’t you show Captain DA around?”
The Colonel spoke as I reached for the door handle. “I’m curious, off the record, of course. How did your marriage not continue on a positive note? I remember the wedding. You two seemed so compatible and so in love. What happened?”

DA and I looked at each other for the first time since his arrival.
“He cheated on me with a friend of mine,” I replied baldly.
“I did not cheat on you! How many times do I have to say it before you believe me?” he retorted, all vestiges of professionalism gone.
“Oh, here we go again!” I shouted back. “I came home early, I walked into the kitchen and there was Alex on top of you on the kitchen floor.”
“I told you it wasn’t what it looked like. I have said over and over again that I did not sleep with Alex!” His tone increased until he was shouting, too.
“You’re telling me that you two never slept together?” I demanded an answer.
“Well . . .” He looked away from me. “Not while we were married.”
“I knew it!”
“It was after we were separated and you had moved here! What did you want me to do? Never sleep with anyone again?”
“You can sleep with whomever or whatever you want for all I care—”
“Ahem.” The Colonel cut in. I jerked back, startled; in the heat of arguing with my frustrating ex, I had forgotten my boss was there.
“Sorry, Sir. Do you see why I can’t work with him?”
The Colonel regarded us both. “Alex?” he questioned DA.
“Alexandra Keating, Sir. She was Stephanie’s best friend.”
“Best friend, my left toe! She’s a traitorous, backstabbing, two-faced, lying, husband stealing bitch.”
“Wow, that’s quite descriptive, Captain. Why don’t you tell us your true feelings about her?” Both of the Colonel’s eyebrows rose in shock.
“I’m only speaking the truth, Sir.” I addressed the Colonel but glared at DA.
“Well.” He clapped his hands together to signal the end of our bickering. “I know you two can be respectful when escorting a fallen soldier home and I know you will be professional during the dignified transfer ceremonies. However, please try and be professional at other times as well or at least civil to each other.” He waved us toward the door.
DA and I both nodded and exited the office. Before we could leave the reception area, the Colonel poked his head out of his office door.
“And, Captain Tyler-”
“Try not to kill him, please. He just arrived at our base and it wouldn’t look good in the press.”
Knowing the Colonel had a wicked sense of humor, I still couldn’t find my own jocularity. “No promises, Sir, But I’ll give it my best shot.”
“That’s all I ask.” 
1. When did you first decide you wanted to become a writer?
I have wanted to be a writer since I was young, around 10 years old ish.
2. When writing, are there scenes that are more difficult for you to write than others?
None that I have come across so far, I have found some scenes emotional to write and those can be tough. Especially when they bring up real life memories.
3. Where do you get your inspiration for your books?
I know this is going to sound strange but I get my inspiration from my dreams. I dream quite vividly as if they were really happening. Some dreams are so detailed I write them down as soon as I wake up so I don’t forget the details. Then I see if could turn into a story 🙂
4. What are some if your favorite things to do when you’re not writing?
I love reading, yoga, trying out different recipes for my new food intolerances (dairy and gluten) and see if they work also I like to spend as much time with family and friends as I can.
5. Who are a few of your favorite authors?
Some of my favorite authors are Jen Lancaster, Jane Austen, Sophie Kinsella and Janet Evanovich.
Author Bio:
Angela lives in Ontario, Canada sharing her home with her father and much-loved trio of pups (and one evil cat).  She currently works for the Board of Education behind the scenes supporting and analyzing student data, however, in her spare time, apart from her avid love of story telling, she likes to read, spend time with family and friends and concoct dairy free recipes from scratch. Sometimes she wins some and sometimes she loses some – tofu, banana and peanut butter pudding we are looking at you.
Contact Links:
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This Week’s Read: Juanita Aydlette

Hello everyone,

Today I am hosting author Juanita Aydlette and her new book, Its In The Blood. Typically I do not read very many first person point of view books but I have to tell you that just by reading Juanita’s excerpt and blurb, I am more than ready to go right out and buy this book. And I think that once you read this blog, you will be too. Enjoy!

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By: Juanita Aydlette

 When Gabrielle Madsen accompanies her parents on a three month trip to Africa, she is in for a pretty unique summer. As a botany major in college, her first interest is to hopefully discover a new plant species during her visit. Her discovery, however, tips her world on its axis.

Being a very naïve and dangerously curious young woman, she accepts a sight-seeing invitation from strangers that she met in her hotel lobby. This little escapade sets off a chain of events that changes the course of her life forever.

She instantly falls for one of the group’s members named Joshua Van Ness. Very quickly, their relationship excels.

Joshua and his twin sister, Christina, are descendants of an ancient Brazilian tribe, and they have a deadly secret. Gabby’s curiosity about Josh heats up and puts her life in danger. Will the dark forces that wish to possess Josh and his sister—view Gabby as an extra bonus?

Is this summer love worth the risk?


Chris swerved like a mad woman following the narrow path. Then she made a quick detour off the man-made trail. Once again my arms and legs were being slapped mercilessly by overgrown shrubbery—fresh cuts appeared. There was no cleared path, but Christina didn’t falter reaching her destination. The four of us had ventured much farther into the jungle than I’d realized, and now she was going even deeper—but in a different direction.

Lord, please let me survive this and I promise I won’t do it again,” I whispered.

“We’re almost there. Take your feet off the pedals.” We slowed to a stop and she got off of the bike. “Get the flashlight from my back pack. We go on foot from here.”

“What? Where are we going? Josh told us to leave this place.”

“Just come on Gabby, hurry!”

I was horrified at the gall of this chick, but what could I do? I was totally helpless in a world that I knew nothing about—her world. “Josh is going to need more medicine.” She snatched the flashlight from my hand and yanked me forward by my wrist. My fingers grew numb from her grip. I was running on my toes like a three year old trying to hold on to her mother’s hand. We walked for about twenty minutes among flying bugs that struggled to get to

the light. I inhaled and coughed—nearly choking—hacking up something which had flown up my nose and down into my throat.

“God help us,” I said.

She snickered with amusement. “Look!” She directed the light straight ahead and we stopped. “The flowers open only at night, so you can see them if you’re brave enough to take the risk.”

“What about the medicine for Josh?” I frowned with dismay.

“This is it!” I focused upon this tree which was totally out of place among its neighboring giants. “It’s called ‘Ixcanan Aka,’ meaning Polly Red Heat. I call it “burning bush.” The leaves were lime green with crimson flowers extending from its smooth limbs. Small red berries in plentiful patches hung on the ends. It stood graceful in the light while surrounded by its towering cousins. The larger trees leaned their appendages over to shroud it like a wall of protection. “The leaves and berries are an antibiotic,” she explained. “We’ll make a compress with them, cover his wounds and wrap them in bandages. Let’s stuff as much as we can in my back pack and our pockets.” We hurriedly stripped the icon of its precious beauty. A sense of welcome radiated from the tree as though it was happy to be of service. Then it struck me.

“Wait, you mean we’re not taking him to the doctor?”

“No need to, we have everything we need right here. Hurry, we might be able to meet them back on the trail. He’ll be pissed that we’re still out here, but I know what’s best for him.”

“I don’t believe this.” I shook my head in total bewilderment as I followed my sister-in-law’s direct orders. Where was her head?

I knew that, though medicinal plants have been used throughout the ages, the healing process is a slow one. The antibiotic properties in some plants are very minute and they require a lot more frequent and larger doses in order to work. Most plants, the leaves are crushed and boiled in water to make a tea.

After every storage compartment was full, we started walking back to where we left the bike. I held her hand with a solid grip. My fresh bug bites were giving me grief and I did everything in my power not to scratch. I was carrying the back pack by then.

Chris slowed her pace.

“Gabby, I think we’re in trouble.” She stopped in her tracks and called my attention to the flashlight. Its luminescence was slowly fading. As the light flickered out, I cringed at the sight

of a different pair of yellow lights gleaming in the dark from behind her in the distance. My expression conveyed the unmistakable message—we were not alone.

In total darkness, a disturbing hush surrounded us once again. The feeding insects no longer buzzed around my head and the humid breeze stopped blowing. Dead leaves crunched as the closely-positioned lights moved near. Finally, a reverberating growl split the silence. The king had returned for his prize.

A shallow gasp escaped my lips. Christina pulled me closer for a last embrace. Our hearts thudded rapidly against each other and we leaned our heads together, waiting for the end. Then it happened. The pair of glowing eyes ascended into the air—then dove towards us, accompanied by an ear splitting snarl. They were met by

a matching pair of eyes—head on, and an even louder, more terrifying roar.

“Thank, you Jesus,” Christina whispered.


We listened to the sounds of massive beasts, tumbling, growling in the dark. I couldn’t even scream for I knew this was our last day on earth—and what was the meaning of her remark? We didn’t heed the warning as we escaped death an hour earlier, and the yelping of one injured animal let me know that it would be over soon. The winner would be coming for us—served on a platter, just as Josh said. I hoped it would be a quick death.

Questions for Blog Interview with Amy Deason

Re: novel “IT’S IN THE BLOOD”

Amy-How did you come up with the title of your book?

Juanita-I had actually written about a hundred pages before I came up with the title. I sort of let the story lead me to it.

Amy-What inspired you to become a writer?

Juanita-I have always wanted to write, but I really decided to take the plunge after reading Stephanie Meyer’s novels. By the time I finished reading BREAKING DAWN, my mind was made up. My first novel was actually one that I wrote to see if I really had “the stuff” to write. It was a 321 page sequel to her book BREAKING DAWN. At the same time, I started writing IT’S IN THE BLOOD. The sequel is in a box on my book shelf. I let a few people read it and they loved it.

Amy-Who has been the biggest supporter of your writing?

Juanita– My youngest brother and my husband were my biggest supporters. I think my husband was glad when I finished it, because he and my dog were almost transparent for nearly nine

  1. My first novel was actually one that I wrote to see if I really had “the stuff” to write. It was a 321 page sequel to her book BREAKING DAWN. At the same time, I started writing IT’S IN THE BLOOD. The sequel is in a box on my book shelf. I let a few people read it and they loved it.

Amy-Who has been the biggest supporter of your writing?

Juanita– My youngest brother and my husband were my biggest supporters. I think my husband was glad when I finished it, because he and my dog were almost transparent for nearly nine months.

Amy-On average, how many minutes a day did you spend working on your book, both mentally and physically?

Juanita– I would spend about two hours each night when I got home from work—during the week, and about five hours on Saturday and Sunday.

Amy– And just for fun and to give the readers an insight to you: If you could put a soundtrack with your book, what are some of the songs that would be on it?

Juanita– This is the hardest question of all, because I’ve been trying to pick the perfect songs for my video trailer. Since I’m “older” everyone may not be familiar with these songs, because a couple of them are from back in the day. But if I had to pick the top four, they would be:

  1. Opposites Attract by:Paula Abdul
  2. Through the Fire by:Chaka Khan
  3. Eye of the Tiger by: Survivor
  4. Portuguese Love by:Teena Marie

There are so many songs that would fit this story.


JUANITA AYDLETTE was born in Shreveport, Louisiana—presently resides in Garland, Texas with her husband and little dog.

Juanita decided to fulfill her life-long dream to become a published author, after reading a series of novels that brought back childhood memories of her obsession with fairies, genies and magical lands. “IT’S IN THE BLOOD”, a powerful love story, is filled with passion, suspense and un-dying devotion. The sequel “BLOOD TIES” is a continuation of events that plagues the Caiubi family. It is targeted for publication in late 2015.

The Cover For My Book!!

Hello Everybody! I am so excited to announce that my first book, Angel in the Shadows, is set to be released by Soul Mate Publishing on July 15, 2015.  I can’t tell you how much it means to me but here is the cover. I am adding a little bit about the book below so please share your opinion with me.  Thank you and enjoy!

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                                          Never Turn Your Back…

                                          Never Reveal Your Name…

                                         Never Surrender Your Heart…


Madison Sinclair is a smart-mouthed photographer that enjoys the simple things in life. Recently landing a job at one of Manhattan’s top imaging companies, she works hard to prove herself but often falls short of the mark. Taking pictures of the New York scenery, relaxing at home with a glass of wine, and caring for her stray cat is usually the highlight of her day. Nice, quiet, simple. It’s the perfect life. But when her best friend cons her into covering a charity event for a multi-millionaire, Madison’s life suddenly becomes anything but simple as she finds herself in a constant race for survival. There is nowhere she can turn, no one she can trust.

Seth Reynolds has been in the game a long time. He knows how to get in, get a job done, and get out with no complications and no witnesses. The constant stress of the job is beginning to take its toll but he is not a man that gives up easily. Trained to be cold and heartless, he is committed to follow through with this mission no matter what. Racing against an impossible time table, everything is in place to take out the madman intent on destroying New York City. But when the naïve Madison Sinclair stumbles into his world, all of his carefully laid plans go to hell.

Determined to do what is right at all costs, Seth must choose between the rules he’s lived by his entire life or saving Madison from a fate worse than death. If he follows orders, he will be an unsung hero, saving millions of innocent people. But if he risks his own life for Madison’s, the entire city will be in jeopardy. The choice should be easy. Risk one to save many. That’s the unbreakable code of The Perfect Order. But now, without even trying, Madison has gotten under his skin and inside his heart. With the fate of the city resting in his hands, how he can do the right thing when he no longer knows what that is?


She stiffened in his arms and although he had made a second mistake in less than twenty-four hours, he was not about to pull away. She just tasted too good and it had been a long time since he indulged in such simple pleasures. Suddenly though, he remembered that he wasn’t like everyone else. Of course he wasn’t, how could have he forgotten? Changing the intensity of the kiss, it became rough and demanding, insisting on something he knew she would never go through with. It wasn’t in her. Which was just fine with him. He didn’t need this distraction right now or ever.

Madison struggled to move away from him and after a small moment, he released her. Her skin was flushed and her breath came in short, uneven bursts. But before she could get too far, he gripped her wrists tightly, feeling his fingers sink deep into her skin. There would probably be bruises but that was something to worry about later. If there was a later. Pulling her back to him, he stared into her eyes, seeing the fear and lust there, mingled together in an intoxicating mixture.

“What’s wrong, isn’t this what you want?” he asked, his voice fierce.

The woman was trembling in his grasp and he could feel her pulse slamming against the soft, thin spot in her wrist. Holding her firmly in place, she couldn’t free herself from his rough grip.

“No, I…” she whispered breathlessly.

“Come on, Ms. Sinclair, let’s not play games. Let’s see if you can distract me long enough to get away. That’s what you were hoping to do, right?” he asked, his voice mocking and cold.

“I…I” Madison stuttered.

“Oh yes, that’s exactly what you were attempting to do, seduce me so you could get away. But let me let you in on a little secret. If you want to distract someone to escape them, you might want to stick to something you actually know a little bit about.”

The hurt in her eyes was immediate and sharp. He’d cut her deep with that particular barb but he wasn’t done with her just yet. This game was getting old and he needed to find out who she was instead of relishing the taste of her mouth. There were several ways to get the information from her and while they were more pleasant, he didn’t have time for that. He’d wasted too much time with her already. Opting for another tactic, he should feel sick for what he was about to do but instead, there was nothing, no feeling at all.

“Tell me,” Seth murmured, “what were you doing at Vance’s house? You weren’t the photographer hired to cover the party.” Decisively, he squeezed tighter, drawing a soft whimper from her lips. Tightening his grip, he could feel the fragile bones in her wrist as they rubbed together.

She cried out involuntarily and then as quick as it began, it was over. He loosened his grip slightly, letting his thumb caress the place where he had squeezed her wrist, soothing the pain he had caused her.

The anger lingered in her eyes but the lust was gone, driven out by pain. “Go to hell.”

Seth stared at her intently. “The truth,” he replied quietly. “Don’t make me do it again.”

“I don’t know what you want…” Her words were cut off as he squeezed her wrist again, this time, increasing the pain. She bit her bottom lip in an attempt to hold in a gasp. Again, he loosened his cruel grip, gently stroking the red marks on her wrists.

She looked up into his eyes, the deep brown of hers burning into the blueness of his. Tears shimmered on her thick lashes. He wanted the truth and he would hurt her until she told him.

“The truth,” he demanded.

“Ok, ok.  I was filling in. Robert had plans and he asked me to cover for him. I swear, it’s the truth.”

Peering into her face, Seth searched for what he needed to know. His thoughts underwent a rapid re-adjustment as he considered her words. Perhaps she was just as she appeared, an innocent bystander. Someone in the wrong place at the wrong time. Great. Just what he needed. He was going to have to play this carefully or it would all be blown to hell. Looking down at her, he could see the bare, naked truth shining in her eyes. And below it, the torrent of emotions raged within her, painting her face. The pain and anger intermingled enticingly with the remains of desire and fear. Lord, he needed to get away from her before he did something he would really regret.

Seth pushed her away roughly and grabbed his coat draped over the kitchen counter. “Don’t toy with me Madison,” he warned. “You won’t like what happens.”

“I don’t like you using my first name,” she managed to reply in a strangled voice, rubbing absently at the throbbing pain in her wrists, her eyes lowered to conceal the tears that began to streak down her pale cheeks.

Seth glared at her blackly. “What makes you think I care what you like?” Without waiting for an answer, he let himself out, locking the door behind him, sealing her inside.

This Week’s Read: Christina Kirby!!

Hi everybody! This week on my blog I am hosting author Christina Kirby and her book Safe At Home.

safe at home                                  christina

Just from reading the excerpt of this book makes me want to keep reading. Please be sure to check it out. Enjoy!


Driven by fear and desperate to protect her family, Samantha is forced to leave Chicago and everything she’s worked to achieve, only to start over by tossing a dart-at-the-map. The Georgia townsfolk’s true Southern charm is the unexpected prescription needed to heal her soul, and the sexy carpenter who touches her heart are distractions she didn’t plan on, but they might offer her a chance at a new life, if she can let go of her past.

Town heartbreaker, Spencer Malloy, isn’t looking for anything serious. His days are perfect working as a contractor, attending his nephew’s baseball games or taking him fishing. He never expects to fall for the big city girl, Samantha. She’s not his type, timid and closed off, but in her unguarded moments, he’s intrigued by the woman he can’t get out of his mind. The urge to get closer to her grows stronger each day, and when the shadow of evil resurfaces, he vows to protect Samantha, even if it means abandoning his home and joining her on the run.

When confronted by the man who’s bent on revenge, Samantha must choose between running again to save the people she loves, or if she has the strength, to stay and fight for her new life.


“Here it is.” Jenny announced. She stopped the car in front of an old white house with peeling paint and looked over at Sam whose eyes began to fill with tears.

“Like I said, it needs some work. When Pete got sick, no one really paid much attention to the house. It’s been sitting here idle for a while. His boys just couldn’t bring themselves to sell it at first, and then…”

“No, it’s perfect,” Sam’s voice sounded watery. “It’s the first house I’ve ever owned.”

After fighting off the foolish tears, Sam climbed out of the car, strolled through the freshly cut grass, and up to what could be a beautiful porch. Jenny unlocked the door as she chattered away about the house, but Sam wasn’t listening. This was it, her new home.

Entering through the wood and glass front door, Sam stepped into a little hallway and felt her heart swell. The inside was small and cozy. The perfect place to sit and feel safe from the outside world.

“Excuse me, earth to Sam. Do you want to see the rest of the house?”

Sam turned, face warm. “Yes, sorry. Lead the way.”

Jenny led her down the hall to show her the kitchen, which had a wonderful view of the backyard, they moved through the dining room and then the upstairs before returning to the den. It was a wonderful little house, so much more than what she imagined for herself.

A car backfired out on the main road and Sam jumped.

“Are you okay?” Jenny’s blue eyes widened, her voice threaded with concern.

“Fine.” Sam let out a shaky breath and waited for her heart rate to return to normal. “I must’ve been so lost in all my plans for the house that I was in another world.”

Jenny gave her a warm smile, but continued to watch her with a crease between her perfect eyebrows.

“Should we be off to your office now?” Sam tried to sound relaxed.

Jenny beamed. “The papers are ready for you.”

Relief washed through Sam as the thrill of the sale seemed to distract Jenny from Sam’s nervous behavior. She led the way out the door and took a deep breath of country air. It was going to be okay here. No one knew where she was. Not her family. Not her best friend. No one. She glanced over her shoulder at the little white house, which for her, symbolized so much more than a new house. She was home.

1. How important are character names in your books? How did you choose them?

I tend to play around with names until I think they sound good together. Naturally, I pay more attention to the hero and heroine, but I also think it matters where your story takes place. Different regions, different trends.

As far as choosing names, I use friends’ names or kids I’ve met in playgroups. Really anywhere I hear one that speaks to me.

 2. Are there certain scenes that are harder for you to write than others? Action? Racy? Love/ Suspense?

Strange though it may be, I have the hardest time writing the in between scenes. The ones that are supposed to be natural all while not boring the reader. Action keeps attention, racy keeps attention, but the times between sometimes cause me the most effort. The hard part is making it seem effortless.

 3. Is there any type of book that you never see yourself writing?

Historical. I have a huge amount of respect for authors that write historical romance. The amount of research that goes into the details is astonishing.

4. What’s your favorite part of being a writer?

When a reader loves a story I’ve written, it makes all the long hours and stress worth it. My goal is to entertain, so when someone is entertained, I consider it a job well done. 

 5. If your book could be made into a movie, who would play the main characters?

I have an entire board on my Pinterest page dedicated to this exact question. Check it out here:


Christina Kirby holds a degree in Public Relations from Auburn University. She worked in banking for four and a half years before deciding to become a stay at home mom to her two sons. Moving every couple of years because of her husband’s job, Christina has had the opportunity to meet all kinds of people and live in many different states. Fortunately, writing is something she can take with her no matter where she lives. Christina is an avid reader of romance, young adult and anything having to do with pop culture. She also knows a copy of Entertainment Weekly and a chocolate chip cookie can cure anything.

Find her on:

Twitter: @CKirbyWriter




Sign up for her newsletter on her website:

Buy Links: Amazon

Barnes N’ Noble

Soul Mate Publishing

This Week’s Read: Katie O’Boyle!!

Hi everybody. This week I am hosting a wonderfully insightful author. Katie O’Boyle and her book Finding the Way Back To Love. Just from what I have read of this story, it sounds amazing and interesting and worth reading again and again. So please, check out Katie’s book and find out how good it really is. Enjoy!!

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Finding the Way Back To Love, by Katie O’Boyle

(release date 2/4/15)


Gwen Forrester, Ph.D., 32, gifted psychotherapist and beautiful widow, is stuck in a rut, dating hotties on the fast track. What she really wants is a life partner who’ll help her raise a family and make a difference in her home town, Tompkins Falls. New in town, Officer Peter Shaughnessy, 30, has recovered from the gunshot wound he suffered in a drug bust in the city of Syracuse, but he’s still smarting from his ex-wife’s betrayal and, before that, the years of abuse from his alcoholic father. It feels like fate to Gwen when her very-pregnant niece Haley trips the security system at Gwen’s lakeside home and Officer Shaughnessy takes the call. By joining forces to help Haley, Peter and Gwen discover they’re a good team. Long, exhilarating canoe trips convince them they’re on the same page with their life goals. Then a destructive squall lands them on the rocks, and a night of stormy passion reveals painful truths that drive them apart. Are they willing to go to any length to find their way back to love?

short blurb:

Gwen comes from a wealthy, loving family and devotes her life to helping alcoholics in recovery. Peter, the scarred-for-life son of a hopeless drunk, is dedicated to law enforcement. They’re hot together! She’s a recovering alcoholic herself, though, and he never lost his disdain for alcoholics. When the going gets tough, will their differences destroy their love?


Excerpts – Finding the Way Back To Love

by Katie O’Boyle


“Gwen Forrester?” Peter asked. At her nod, he stepped aside.

Her startled gaze shifted to Haley and softened with love. Her face lit up with delight when she spied the big belly. “Oh!”

The two rushed toward each other, embracing, laughing, crying, talking so low he could make out only a few words—“your mother?” and “boy we met at Christmas” and “when?”

“October, really?” Gwen stepped back. “Just two more months?” She caressed Haley’s face. “Have you had anything to eat today?”

“I’m starved.” Haley grinned.

“Ma’am?” Peter got no response. He might as well be invisible. “Ms. Forrester?” he said louder.

Gwen turned with a look of pure joy, cheeks flushed, eyes wide. She was a chic, older, ash-blond version of Haley. Even more beautiful.

“Yes, Officer?”

Her dreamy gaze made him wonder if she was flirting with him. Get real, Shaughnessy. “If you won’t be pressing charges, my partner and I will clear out of here, Ms. Forrester.”

She held out her hand, tilted her head coquettishly, and told him, “It’s Gwen. And you are?”

“Officer Peter Shaughnessy.” Her handshake was firm and surprisingly strong for such a slender, feminine woman. He cleared his throat. “You’ll need to get those locks fixed right away, ma’am.”

“Gwen,” she reminded him with a flutter of thick, dark eyelashes.

“Gwen, my partner and I recommend that you put your vehicle in the garage tonight, close and lock the overhead door, deadbolt the kitchen door, and set the alarm. Call a locksmith first thing in the morning.”

Her only response was, “Haley and I will be having breakfast around nine. We’d love to have you join us, Officer.”

He opened his mouth to repeat the caution but closed it again. His partner had told him Tompkins Falls operated more like a small town than a city. This definitely wasn’t going by the Syracuse Police Department procedure book that he still had in his head.

Haley touched his arm and winked. “Come for breakfast, Officer. I need protection from the Inquisition. And Gwen makes a mean omelet.”


Gwen took a nervous sip of almost-cold coffee. “I’m sure her mother was no help. Ursula is completely self-absorbed. She probably threw Haley out on the street.” She used a piece of bagel to push the rest of her omelet into the center of the plate and rested the bagel on top. “Haley and I didn’t get into the hard questions last night. All I know is she came here by bus with a duffle full of dirty clothes—none of them maternity clothes—and a stash of cash.”

“She said last night she walked here from the bus station.”

“I didn’t even know she was coming.” Tears burned Gwen’s eyes. “I realized this morning, she had left me about six messages from four o’clock on. I should have been here for her.”

“Gwen, you were here for her.” Peter’s voice was gentle. “Your timing was just off a little. And maybe it’s not a bad thing that the police confronted her for breaking in last night. It’s a wake-up call that she’s making some desperate decisions. Bad ones.”

“You’re a wise man, Officer Shaughnessy.” Gwen dabbed at her eyes with her napkin and gave him a grateful smile.

“I have a sister. She made some bad choices at that age, too.”

He drank down his juice and slid off the stool with a fluid motion that rippled the muscles of his torso, under his tight, white T-shirt. A thrill shot through Gwen.


“The doc and his wife are gone now?”

“They died one after the other, like some couples do. She had a heart condition of some kind, and he died a few weeks after they buried her.”

Peter wondered what it was like to have two loving parents.

“I was in high school,” Sam continued, “so it was six or seven years ago. Seemed like the whole town was in mourning. Gwen was widowed around the same time.”

A widow? “Rough.”

“I’m sure it was. Gwen moved back to the family home after he died. She moved her practice here, too. You saw the office.”

“She’s a doctor like her dad?”

“Psychologist. She helps a lot of people, especially recovering alcoholics and addicts.”

“That’s a recipe for disaster.” On the left, a popular lakeside park stretched for two miles. He usually went for a run on the gravel path after his shift.

“What do you mean disaster?” Sam asked.

“Woman alone, miles from town, lives down a long, private road. Sees clients with psychological problems, alone, all day. Sure there’s an alarm, which is what brought us out tonight. It took us, what, seven minutes to get out there, from the time the 911 dispatcher called us. You figure there had to be some delay before that while the alarm company phoned the homeowner, got no response and relayed information to the police.” He shook his head. “Plus, if one of her patients went off on her during a session, no alarm would summon help.”

Peter sensed his partner’s gaze on him. He glanced over and saw both Sam’s eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Well, I wouldn’t want my wife or—or sister or girlfriend in that situation, would you?” Sam’s chuckle pushed Peter’s buttons. “What?”

Sam shrugged. “Just never thought of it that way. What do you think of her?”

“Gwen Forrester? She’s either made of steel or out of her mind.”


 The wind picked up speed. Gwen’s breathing grew labored. A wave gushed over the gunwale behind her. And another. Keep going.

The pitch of the hillside changed subtly. She rested for a few seconds and squinted at the shoreline, seeking a welcoming cove or a low spot where they could land. Nothing yet. She dug in hard for another mile, but she wished she could hear Peter so they could work in synch. As it was, she made his job harder. Whether she paddled too fast or too slow, he had to correct their course.

With the looming storm, the sky darkened as if it were twilight. She turned back to Peter and saw his head low, his shoulders straining. She dug her paddle in and prayed. Every stroke mattered.

About half a mile farther, waves assaulted the canoe. Gwen’s lungs labored, and her shoulders burned. The eerie light gave her shivers, but it was bright enough for her to see a stream and a thin waterfall that sliced through the hillside and plunged into the waters of a rocky bay.

Nine Mile Bay. The hillside from this point north was still steep, but rough tracks cut through the tree cover. Four-wheel-drive vehicles had access to a few remote houses much of the year. We’ll find shelter.

“Soon,” she yelled above the wind.

A flash of lightning on the western shore shot fear through her body. A sob escaped her.



And now a few fun questions and answers:

Amy, I really enjoyed answering your questions! I wasn’t to know how YOU would answer each and every one of them! This is going to be a great blog.

Question 1:

Have you ever had a moment when you just got stuck in your writing? If so, what did you do to break free from it?

Whenever that happens, it’s my brain asking for a much-needed break! I take a meditative walk outdoors, sometimes with my camera in hand. If the weather is beastly, I do some yoga instead and use imagery to imagine myself in some spectacularly beautiful place.

Question 2:

Who are some of your favorite authors to read?

For romance I love The Chesapeake Diaries series by Mariah Stewart, and I laugh out loud at Kristan Higgins.

Question 3:

In your opinion, what makes a really good book?

I like to read about very motivated characters that have goals and values they believe in. Then they meet each other… oops! Even though they irritate the heck out of each other, they fall in love. There’s no way around it: they have to work it out in order to have the love of a lifetime. Of course, all the necessary changes open up new possibilities and happiness and shared goals that lead them, together, into the future. That to me is a satisfying “happy ever after.”

Question 4:

What is your writing process?

I recently attended a workshop by Roxanne St. Clair that helped me crystalize the process that works best for me when I’m writing romance. Although I have a good idea of where the romance is heading, I write scene by scene, revise as I work, and pause once or twice to review and revise the work to date. What does it look like day-by-day? Lately, I’ve been getting up early (before sunrise), fixing coffee, and writing much of the morning.

And just for fun and to give the readers a little insight to you:

Question 5:

If you could live in any period, when would it be? Why?

Honestly, I love the present day, and this is exactly where and when I want to live! Every age has its horrors and foibles and miracles. Today is no exception. I try to make the most of each day, focus on what’s going good, and act with kindness toward everyone I meet in the course of the day.



Finding the Way Back To Love, by Katie O’Boyle

 Author Bio:

Born in the upstate-New York village known as the Birthplace of Women’s Rights, Katie O’Boyle loves the Finger Lakes in every season. That’s why she set her Lakeside Porches romance novels in Tompkins Falls on Chestnut Lake. To the outside world, she is a tech-savvy college professor. To friends and readers, she is the author of warm-hearted romance. She recently finished writing book four of the Lakeside Porches romance books and novellas and is planning book five.

**Meet Katie O’Boyle:

on Facebook as “Katie O’Boyle Author”

on Twitter as “TompkinsFalls”


Places To Buy:

This Week’s Read: Claire Gem!!!

Today I am hosting Claire Gem and her book Phantom Traces. I can honestly say that this is one book I will be picking up to read. It has everything: mystery, romance, ghosts, and best of all-BOOKS and LIBRARIES!! I hope that you all will check this book out. I am sure that it will be an amazing read. Enjoy!

PHANTOM TRACES_805x1275                  Claire Gem

Phantom Traces
Claire Gem
Release date Feb. 19 from SMP
A history professor in a tweed jacket, a cheeky Goth chick, and a pipe-smoking, book-hurling ghost. Put them all together in an antiquated library and, well…
Professor Jack Wood’s silver-streaked hair definitely ages him, and he can thank Killer Dawn for that. He won’t be falling into the love trap again anytime real soon. But this new librarian has him curious, with her head-to-toe black Goth garb, piercings, and a defiant attitude to match. Definitely not his type of girl, but still…
Abigail Stryker’s got her work cut out for her. The last two librarians didn’t last a month before airborne books chased them off. But Abby’s determined to make her new life a go – and to stay as far away from older men as possible. Once was enough. Might be tough to do when the library’s best patron is none other than dreamy-eyed Jack Wood. And it seems the eccentric ghost may have taken a shine to her as well.
Coming Soon:
From High Hill Press, a memoir of discovery – Maternal Threads
From Soul Mate Publishing, Phantom Traces
From Lachesis Publishing, A Taming Season

Read of the week: One Shingle To Hang by DeAnn Smallwood

Hello Everybody! Today I am hosting DeAnn Smallwood and her book One Shingle To Hang. Included in this post are not only the book cover, author photo but also an exciting excerpt and some fun questions with some equally fun answers This book speaks to all that is decent and hardworking in us and shows us that love, even unexpected love, is worth fighting for, though we may not necessarily realize it at first. This is a great read and one that will surely warm your heart. Enjoy!!

OneShingletoHang_850HIGH                               IMG_0056 (4x6)(3)

A woman with too much knowledge was at risk for insanity. Their fragile mind couldn’t handle it. That’s what Lil had been told when she went against convention and became an attorney. The 1800’s had fewer women lawyers than women doctors. Her pride knew no bounds when she hung her shingle—L.M. Wentfield, Attorney At Law.

Drew was a struggling cattle rancher, building a fledging Hereford empire. He was working toward that goal when he was accused of rustling and faced possible hanging. He needed a lawyera good onea man. Chesterfield had one lawyera new oneL.M. Wentfield. He wasn’t prepared for a beautiful blonde with a sharp tongue and fiercely won independence.

Lil had no homemaking abilities. Her love was the law. And if the thoughts of the gray-eyed cowboy, who had the audacity to refuse her legal help stayed in her mind, she’d push them aside. She had nothing to offer a rancher . Even her wealth wouldn’t be considered an asset to a prideful man. And Drew Jackson was proud. So proud, he knew he couldn’t ask a woman of Lil’s stature to share his lifebut he wanted tofrom the moment he’d stolen that first kiss.

An Excerpt From One Shingle to Hang:

Everyone knew Lil Wentfield would never marry. What man would want her? She was too old, too set in her ways, and too damned opinionated. Granted, she was a real beauty, if you could get past all the other flaws. Long blonde hair, equally long legs, sparkling blue eyes, flawless skin, with just a hint of a European ancestor in the coloring. And lips, well to call them kissable would be doing them an injustice.

But spinster she was, with her hair coiled into a tight knot at the nape of her neck, as tight as the expression habitually worn on her lovely face. Wire rimmed glasses perched on her small nose, obscured flashes of emotion in those beautiful eyes. Except when it came to outrage. Then her eyes snapped, her spine stiffened, her chin raised, and she peered disdainfully at the offender.

Lil was like a badger when it came to proving her point and winning an argument. Her mother liked to say Lil was born arguing. What her father liked to say was more colorful and filled with disappointment. His only child compounded being born female, by having a mind of her own. Once Lil made a decision, she planted her feet firmly on the chosen path, and didn’t step off until her goal was accomplished.

Men found her unnerving. Lil Wentfield wouldn’t be any man’s ‘little woman’, her place in the home, serving her husband, and mothering children. She was unsettling; not material necessary for being the calming homemaker and acquiescent wife needed to soothe and support a man as he went about his business.


A loud knock broke into her thoughts. “Come in,” she called out.

Nothing happened, then another knock. “Please, come in,” she called again.

Getting no response, Lil came around her desk and, with some irritation at the interruption, jerked open the door, nearly toppling the tall man who held the doorknob on the other side. He muttered something under his breath, and tried to regain his balance only to bump into Lil, throwing her off stride. She stumbled backwards and would have fallen if not for the man’s quick reaction. He grabbed Lil and, wrapping both arms around, pulled her to him. Then, in a parody of the two-step, he danced her to safety.

Lil felt herself falling, then rescued by two strong arms. Not only was she pulled up short, but she was wrapped tightly against a rock hard chest, her nose buried in the man’s damp shirt. A very pleasant smell greeted her nose. The scent of summer rain and witch hazel. She found the masculine odor intoxicating.

Neither moved. Then Lil raised her head and looked into a pair of dancing gray eyes. His arms never relaxed their grip; in fact, they seemed to tighten around her as his mouth twitched, then broke into a smile.

“Didn’t expect to end up with a beautiful woman in my arms. For a moment there, I expected to land on the rug, Ma’am. With you alongside me,” he added with a chuckle.

He loosened his grip and gently pushed her away from the warmth and safety of his chest. Lil stepped back, feeling as though she’d just had something precious taken from her. She realized her hands still gripped his arms. Like a hot potato, she dropped them and turned away from the man’s disturbing presence. Like a fox heading for her den, Lil scurried behind her desk and gratefully lowered her trembling body onto the waiting chair.

With the desk between them, she was once again in charge. “May I help you?” she asked coolly, hoping the tremble in her voice went unnoticed. “I called come in not once but twice.”

“Sorry, Ma’am. Guess I didn’t hear you. I was just fixing to open the door when you did just that. Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Lil answered with no desire to elaborate. “II appreciate you catching me. Now,” she hurried away from that topic, “to repeat myself, how may I help you?”

He smiled, as if knowing her thoughts. Walking over to the desk, he removed his hat and stood with it in his hands. “I apologize for dripping on your floor, but it’s raining like hel, uh, like heck out there.”

Lil tried not to look at how the ends of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. She focused instead on his hair, black and shiny with rain drops glistening on the wavy strands not covered by his hat. She didn’t realize she was staring at him until he shifted from foot to foot.


“Yes,” Lil answered, pulling herself back to reality.

“What I’m here for is to see L.M. Wentfield, Attorney At Law.” He pointed at the window, in the direction of the sign.

Lil nodded. “Yes,” she said again. At this rate, he’d think she only had a one word vocabulary.

The man tilted his head to one side. “Could you direct me to L. M. Wentfield, Ma’am?”

“Of course I can. How may I help you?”

Two small furrows appeared between the man’s eyes. He peered closer at her. Perhaps he needed to try another approach.

“Ma’am, could I speak with your husband?”

“There is no husband,” Lil said with a hint of asperity.

“Oh,” he nodded as if finally understanding the problem. “I beg your pardon. I guess the person I need to see would be your father.”

“What for?” Now the furrows were between Lil’s eyes.

“Well, because I’m looking for him.”

“You’re looking for my father? Are you in need of a banker?”

“No. Not at all.” The smile was gone and those long lashed gray eyes of his had lost their twinkle. “A banker? Now why would you think I’d need a banker?”

“I didn’t think that, sir. You said it.”

“I did?” He shook his head and took a step back. He’d been thrown from horses and had his brain addled, but nothing compared to what this lovely young woman was doing to him.

“You did.”

“I guess I don’t rightly recall that. But,” he offered a weak smile, “I do remember asking to see your father.”

“Yes?” Lil let the word hang in the air. What was the matter with him?

His hands nervously fingered the brim of his wet hat. “I would like to see L.M. Wentfield, Attorney. If L.M. Wentfield isn’t your husband, and it appears he isn’t your father either, then who is he?”

“Me.” Lil sucked in her cheeks, delighted with the look on his face. Now it was all coming clear. Standing before her was a gorgeous specimen of man. Alas, it seemed he was also a specimen of man that had a preconceived notion of a woman’s role. And judging from the look on his face, it apparently wasn’t sitting behind a desk, attorney at large.

“You? You are L.M. Wentfield, Attorney At Law?”

Question 1: What is your favorite book of all time?

My favorite book of all time was Little Women. I still love it, but I’d have to say my adult favorite is The Thorn Birds. I read on an average a book a day, so I really have many favorites. It’s hard to pick just one.

Question 2: Where do you draw your inspiration for your books from?

I draw most of my inspiration from life. I also draw it from other books. I seem to live in a book world where stories waiting to be written swim around in my head. I can go camping, or for a drive, and get inspiration. I have to jot down my thoughts and title my ‘to be written’ books as they come to me. I love to write and have many stories waiting.

Question 3: Do you ever think of your characters as real people?

Yes, I tend to feel like my characters are actual people. Take for example my book Tears In The Wind. I know that if I drove to Sheridan, Wyoming, especially over the Big Horn Mountains, I’d run into Matt and see his ranch. That’s why I feel so sad whenever I finish writing a book. It’s as if there’s been a death and for days I miss my characters.

Question 4: Did you always know that you wanted to be a writer?

Yes, I always knew I wanted to write. When I was much younger, I wrote in my head-always cowboy stories. I love doing the research for my historical westerns. Medicine has been a large part of my life so you’ll find a hint, if not more, of medicine in most of my books. The 1800’s fascinate me. My life seems empty if I don’t have a book in progress. Thankfully, my husband understands and supports me. And my two Yorkies, Eli and Stormy stay beside me throughout the process. Eli is usually curled behind me on my office chair. And Stormy has a pillow in the window sill where she keeps an eye out for birds and cats.

Question 5: If you could be anything other than a human, what would it be and why?

Hmm. If I could be anything but a human being…I’d have to say a Yorkie. I love these smart little guys. They are loyal and fun. But beware, they are high maintenance. As a human, I’d say I’m high maintenance so that characteristic would fit. But you know what? I wouldn’t trade what I’m doing now for anything. Since I’ve retired and can spend more time writing my pleasure in the craft rises each day. I love seeing my books in print. And words fail me to describe what absolute joy I feel when someone tells me they’ve read my book and like it. I can live for months on a compliment. I have to hold myself from coaxing for more, more. I want to ask things like: did you like chapter three, how about when she…, could you see that scene, etc.


I live in Colorado with my husband and my two Yorkie kid dogs: Stormy, four pounds, and Eli, six pounds. I’m a native of Colorado, but I lived several years in Wyoming and Montana. I draw from these beautiful states for most of my books. My Western Historical Romances are: Montana Star, Sapphire Blue, Unconquerable Callie, Wyoming Heather, One Shingle To Hang, and of course my most recent, Montana Man, out in March. Tears In The Wind is a contemporary romance. Then I branched out and wrote, under the pen name of D. M. Woods, my first suspense/thriller: Death Crosses The Finish Line. The second book in this ‘death’ series, Death Is A Habit, came out January 8, 2014. I am currently working on the third book in the ‘death’ series, Death Walks C Dock as well as another historical western. I sincerely mean it when I say my greatest pleasure next to writing is having my books read and enjoyed. There are many more stories just waiting to be written.

Read of the Week! Samanthya Wyatt!!

Hi everyone. This week I am hosting author Samanthya Wyatt and her book The True One. In this post I have included a cover of the book, an special excerpt, and a photo of this incredible author. Please take a moment to read the interesting question and answer segment at the bottom. Then check out The True One for an amazing whirlwind of lust, love, and adventure. Enjoy!

the true one                                   Samanthya Wyatt


The blurb: “The True One”

Will the passion they share be enough? He must choose—her or revenge.
Captain Stephen Radbourn accepts an intriguing proposition which results in horror. His ship in splinters and his men captured, he is a broken man. A band of rebels rescue their leader from a dungeon, taking the near dead captain with them. Fearing capture and thinking the tortured man will die, they leave Stephen in the care of a woman, who he believes is an angel of mercy. A man of passion, with a trail of satisfied maidens to prove it, he finds his heart captured by the lovely widow. But she forces him to choose—her or revenge.

Jennifer Faircloth departed England full of a young girl’s fantasies of romance and adventure. Her young husband dies leaving her a widow to survive alone in a foreign land. When a near death English captain is dropped at her door, memories emerge of the family she foolishly left behind. While caring for him, her curious imagination turns to an overwhelming awareness she cannot deny. He must flee for his life and he takes her with him—back to England—back to the family she’d deserted. She wants her family to forgive her, but she wants Stephen’s love even more.

An excerpt, Enjoy an excerpt from The True One:

Warmth flowed from his hand smoldering her skin. Tingles of awareness attacked her senses. How long it had been since she’d been touched by a man. Still, she’d never felt such heat, such burning intensity. Her response shook her.
“If you can’t talk, it will be through no fault of mine.” Not if she could control the trembling he stirred within.
“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” He released her hand and leaned back. “I like that.”
It took every ounce of will to concentrate on her task and not his words. The man leered at her. There was no other word for it. His eyes watched her every move. Trying her best to ignore him—which was near impossible—she carefully scraped the hair from his jaw. Determined not to meet his eyes, she willed her fingers to be steady and not scar the man for life. Although, he currently presented a great number of scars.
She held her breath and then slowly released it after each scrape. Her chest hurt from nervous tension. Sending her mind elsewhere, she drew upon her memories of other times she’d done this. Pretending Stephen was her husband only sent more heat to her center, so she halted that line of thinking immediately. The two men were as different as night and day.
A ship’s captain. His size and his words hinted at the power he must have possessed before he’d been beaten and starved. Energy surrounded him as if he was a man who knew what he wanted and would stop at nothing to get it. Somehow she didn’t think he would need to use brute force. His fierce scowl was intimidating enough.
His features were somewhat handsome, not pretty like the dandies in London. Yet she found him incomparable. His green eyes, sharp and daring, pierced, and captivated her on contact. A sense of command in his dangerous gaze, then his eyes had gone soft, and he managed what could pass for a charming smile, considering the split lip on his handsome, swollen mouth. His full lips.
She mentally gave herself a good shake. Experience had taught her of men and their dominance over women. She may be attracted to his body, but she would never be vulnerable to a man again.
Somehow she managed to scrape his whiskers leaving his throat intact. She had no idea how she kept her fingers from trembling.
When she met his gaze, the devil’s eyes twinkled. He knew his disturbing effect on her. The scoundrel.
“I’ll empty this bowl and bring you fresh water for a bath.”
“Now that sounds like a fine idea.”
When she returned with a pail of water, his smirking grin was back in place.
“You can wash yourself.”
“How am I supposed to do that? My muscles are overwrought from having a shave. Never had a woman shear me before. Drained the energy right out of me.”
She would never admit, to him or herself, that the idea of running a cloth over his nude body sounded delectable.
“Very well.” She gave a little huff to disguise her inner emotion. She wrung the cloth and started on his shoulder.
“You don’t have to scrub the hide off me. I have very little left.”
She softened her movements. Two could play at this game.
Unsure of her hasty decision, and ignoring any thought of changing her mind, she caressed his muscles as she drew the cloth in circles. She’d never done anything so outrageous before. Her fingers slowed as she moved across his chest, making sure she covered every devilish inch.
Again, she dipped the cloth in the pan of water and wrung the excess. Her eyes fastened on springy, auburn curls glistening with moisture. She tried to swallow. Realizing she sat there with a stupefied look on her face, she glanced up to meet his all-knowing gaze. Good Lord, she’d never had a man look at her so. His green eyes electrified her. While staring into their depths, his irises darkened. The breath caught in her lungs. She dropped the cloth.
The sound of the light plop jerked her attention. “Oh.” She quickly recovered, wrung the cloth again, and rinsed away any remaining soap on his mantle of fur. Recalling his early statement, and mindful of his ribs, she eased the cloth down his torso, and lower. Her eyes caught on the sheet just below his . . .
The linen lifted.

Question 1:
Which book has been your favorite to write so far?
My contemporary, “Something More” was the most fun. But, I guess my current release “The True One” is my favorite book so far. “The Right One”, the first book in the One and Only Series, is about Kat and Morgan. Her brother is missing and she will do anything to find him. Book two of the series is Stephen’s Story. Why he was gone for two years, what happened to him, and a love story all his own. I created strong characters and tried to put a twist here and there and wanted them to be fun.

Question 2:
What has been the biggest challenge for you as a writer?
Getting Published. All I ever wanted was to see my book sitting on a shelf in the book store. I had so much to learn. First I had to make my MS the best it could be. Once I joined RWA, I took workshops and gained a wealth of information. I grew as a writer. Only then, my work was ready for submission.

Question 3:
Is there a favorite time of day you like to write?
I like to get up in the morning, have coffee and then hit the laptop. Takes me a while to focus and make any progress. But mornings are the best. Of course, anytime I can be alone where I won’t be interrupted is the best time to be creative.

Question 4:
Where do you draw your inspiration from?
Once I found historical romance novels, I couldn’t put a book down. I fell in love with the characters and needed to know their happy ending. Dashing Lords and pirates seem so romantic. A lot of my ideas pop into my head at night. When I go to bed, I finally have a chance to unwind. The day’s activities race through my mind. And sometimes, characters are born. The trick is remembering the next day.

And just for fun and to give the readers a little insight to you:
Question 5:
If you could include a soundtrack to your book, what are some of the songs that would be on it?

“Someday We’ll Be Together” by the Supremes was “our” song—hubby and me when we were teenagers. After 40 years, we’re still together.
So many romantic songs were created by Motown artists.

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough
Stop in the Name of Love
Let’s Get it On
Can’t Help Myself
Ain’t Nothing Like the Real Thing
Baby Love
Standing in the Shadow of Love

I’ve had so much fun today. Thank you, Amy.
I love to hear from readers. Please visit my website here:

You can also find Samanthya Wyatt on Soul Mate Publishing, Hearts Through History, facebook, goodreads and amazon.

Buy links:

The Right One
The True One
Something More

This Week’s Author: Erin Bevan!!


Hello everyone. This week on my blog I am hosting Erin Bevan and her book The Ranch Hand. I have read the blurb and I can not wait to check this book out. Below I have included the amazing blurb for her book and her bio. Also, there are some fun and interesting questions. I just love Erin’s answers and I am sure you will too. It sounds like to me like Erin has had an amazing life. Please check out her book. Enjoy!!

the ranch hand covererin2


Erin Bevan was born and raised in Southwest Arkansas. She spent her teenage years working for her aunt at the local gas station flipping burgers and making milkshakes, dreaming of the day when something better would come her way.

Fast forward ten years later, she found herself stuck inside an apartment in South Korea while her daughter went to preschool and her husband went to work. Alone and unable to speak the local language, she turned to books for a friend. After reading a few hundred in such a short time, she decided to try her hand at writing one.

That first one sucked, but by the fifth and sixth book, Erin started to get the hang of this writing thing. Getting the first contact in her inbox was a dream come true. Now, with three babies at home, she squeezes in storied one word at a time, one sentence at a time, one day at a time. She’s a full time wife, with a little writer sprinkled in whenever she can get the chance.



Jason Haverty is looking forward to the fall horse drive, until his boss and uncle informs him one of the new cowboys coming in to help will be riding his favorite horse. His annoyance is furthered when the cowboy turns out to be a cowgirl—a quick-witted and confident blonde beauty. Trying to avoid her doesn’t work. The more time he spends with her, the more an unexpected protectiveness toward her grows.

Bobby Jo’s Texas upbringing taught her to give just as good as she gets, a quality Jason finds frustrating and all the more endearing in this Southern Belle. When an accident on the trail places her in possible danger, Jason realizes she means more to him than he thought. The question is, does she feel the same?

Question 1:

When did you know you first wanted to be an author?

Umm.. probably when I was 25. Actually, until then I never enjoyed writing. I didn’t enjoy writing until I realized no one was making me write anything. In school, the thought of writing a research paper was a total mind suck. Now, that I can write whatever I want, I can’t get enough.

Question 2:

Where do you get your inspiration from?

Good question. Everyday things. Seeing children play, eating (that always seems to make me focus), talking with my girlfriends, or watching movies. Reading helps too, but if I don’t drink an espresso from Starbucks daily, the fires in this ol’ brain just don’t burn.

Question 3: 

Do you have a certain person in your life that you can always count on to bounce your ideas off of?

Mainly, my girlfriends. Any of them. I’ll ask them what they think about something and they’ll always chime in with a thought or an idea. Usually, the ideas are great and take me and my stories in whole new direction. A better direction.

Question 4:

What advice do you have for anyone aspiring to be a writer?

Well, that’s a good question, and one that I don’t really have a great answer for. I guess, my biggest advice would be to take classes. I gained all of my knowledge from on-line courses and joining critique groups. Take everything you read with a grain of salt. Sometimes, the hard and fast rules don’t always work for you and your story, but at the end of the day what really matters is you write what you want to write. Don’t write erotica just because everyone else is, or don’t write Christian just because your momma wants you to. Write what you want and what you don’t mind putting your name on.

 And just for fun and to give the readers an insight to you:

Question 5:

If you could meet any person-past or present-who would it be and what one question would you ask?

I would probably ask Eve- why did you eat that blastin’ apple? A Snickers bar dangling in front of you, sure, I could understand. But an apple? Seriously?

Buy Link:

Amazon: sr 1 5?ie UTF8&qid 1422554670&sr 8-5&keywords The+Ranch+Hand

Research Erin:

Website: http://www.erinbevan.come


Twitter: @ErinBevan