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Lizzie Ashworth: Holiday Journey
Thursday, November 10th, 2016

Hi Delilah fans –

lacropped-man-at-airportThe holiday season is upon us, and a bunch of us will be traveling to join family and loved ones for the festivities. For many, that means getting up close and personal with complete strangers. Depending on the stranger, that can be a good thing or absolutely awful.

I once traveled back to the States from Asia. We boarded at Hong Kong for the flight to Tokyo. From there I’d take a connecting flight to San Francisco and from there another connecting flight to Dallas. Finally we’re airborne on the big jet and I find myself sitting next to a very attractive man of Asian descent.

After a short time underway as the flight attendants are working their way down the aisle with drinks and snacks, this man nods to me with a big smile and introduces himself. Only I really can’t fully understand what he’s saying. Very heavily accented, his words finally process in my brain.

“Sato Kazuhiro,” he said, nodding and smiling. “Japanese.”

At least, I think that’s what he said. His eyebrows lift, questioning. My expression probably conveys my confusion because he laughs and says, a bit more clearly, “My name,” and hands me a business card.

The card is thick white stock with a minimalist design in black, a stylized lion on the upper left corner with the words ‘Sato Industries’ printed in English beside it and then some Japanese characters. In the lower right are his name in English and more Japanese characters. He’s watching me expectantly.

“Michelle,” I say, not quite comfortable with adding my last name. “American.”

I tend not to get into conversations when I travel. So I adjust my jacket and settle back in the seat, giving him the signal that as far as I’m concerned, introductions are enough chat.

He’s completely not picking up the signal, or he doesn’t care what I want. When the flight attendants stop beside us, he insists on buying me a snack. I politely refuse and sip my ginger ale. He’s making faces and sighing like I’ve inflicted a mortal wound.

I’m thinking this flight can’t end soon enough. I regret that I didn’t bring a book. I know better than to travel without a suitable barrier against such unwanted intrusions.

“I travel,” he says. “Business travel.” It takes me several minutes to decipher what he actually said.

“Traveling today from Bangkok,” he continues, nodding, smiling. “Are you traveling far?”

“San Francisco,” I say. There, that should be the end of it.

“Lovely city,” he says. “Not as great as Tokyo. You let me show you Tokyo?”

What with the delay in comprehending his words and my hesitancy to reply, he finds it necessary to repeat himself.

“Beautiful city, many wonderful things to see. Nice dinner?”

“Uh, no. Sorry.”

“All night before connecting flight, yes? You could take day or two, see Fuji. I show you.”

Another big smile. Very white teeth. Intensely black hair with a hint of silvering at the temples. I’m noticing how perfectly his gray suit fits, no doubt tailored. Manicured nails.

In fact, in my few glances in his direction in order to satisfy my ingrained need to be polite, I can’t help but notice how well built he is. And handsome in that distinctly Japanese way with high cheekbones and intense presence.

For the first time since his flirtation started, I give serious consideration to what he’s saying. I’ve never been to Japan. It’s a place I’d love to explore and he’s probably intent on paying our way to wherever I wanted to go. Not that I would let him. But the food would surely be fabulous. I’ve heard of the wild nightlife in this city, too.

On the other hand, what if this guy makes his money in the white slave trade? What if he gets me in a car and the next thing I know, my life as a free woman is over? It’s insane to even consider his offer.

I try to shut down the conversation and he kind of takes the hint, not pressing further until we’re circling Tokyo. It’s dark. The ground below is a sea of lights. As the wheels touch the runway and we taxi toward the terminal, he starts again.

“Pretty American lady,” he says. “Michelle. Please consider what I say. I want you to see our beautiful city. Japan has much to offer even for one day. Two is better. Please,” he says, gesturing, “let me show you.”

I shake my head. “I have people meeting me at San Francisco,” I said firmly. “I can’t delay.”

He rolls his eyes and inhales through his teeth. Evidently I’ve inflicted another painful injury. “Hai,” he says plaintively.

The jet lurches to a halt. The aisles become instantly crowded. As we stand up, I notice he’s slightly taller than me. Gorgeous, now that I’m really looking. Imperious in his bearing, he leans toward me in a slight bow. “Beautiful Michelle, it has been my pleasure to know you.”

I really don’t know what to say. His eyes convey grief that I have refused his generous offer. I’m wondering if this come-on has actually worked for this guy. I’m wondering how it would be to see him without clothes. How he would touch me. Whether he kisses like American men.

I can’t be the only one—he’s smooth, fully expectant that I’ll experience a last minute change of heart and take him up on his offer. Should I reconsider? My hands are sweating as I clutch my carry on.

Finally we’re slowly shuffling forward to disembark. His hand touches my back. Slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if it’s his unrelenting duty to escort me, see to my welfare. How differently men behave in Asia—I’d noticed it before.

I start to panic that I’ve not given serious consideration to the idea of letting this guy squire me around this amazing city. The terminal hums with activity as we step into the well-lighted space. Music filters through the cool air.

Sumimasen,” he says with another deep bow. “Sorry.”

“Thank you,” I say, inanely. “You’ve been very generous. Perhaps another time.”

He looks at me and in his dark eyes I see another world, a mysterious culture that I could never fully understand no matter how many years I might immerse myself in its history. What stunning revelations might he offer? I have to admit that he attracts me physically. I flash on how it would be with him over me and flush.

Hai,” he says again, smiling. “Take care.”

I watch him stride briskly through the exit and disappear into the night. The shuttle takes me to the airport Hilton, convenient for my early morning flight. After being in Sato’s presence for four hours, I feel unexpectedly alone.

Dinner in the hotel restaurant surprises with its perfection. I drop my bag in the tiny room. A nicely folded robe waits for me on the bed. Its soft cotton fabric feels wonderful on my skin after a steamy shower. White rice paper panels cover the window glass. I lapse into ‘what ifs’ as I watch Japanese programs on television, listening to the flow of their words and observing their body language. Some of it reminds me of Sato.

Mysterious. Intriguing. An entirely different universe. As the tension of the flight and Sato’s demands and my internal conflict about what to do start to subside, I find myself regretting my lack of courage to take up his offer.

I’ve thought of it often since. What if I had risked it? Would you?

~~~

For all my times in airports before and after this trip through Japan, I’ve put together a short story that plays on the possibility of meeting someone and actually acting on the impulse. It’s fiction, so there’s no risk of harm. Except maybe to the heart.

Here’s an excerpt from Holiday Journey:

laHoliday Journey

“I assume you’re stuck here like the rest of us,” a man’s voice rumbled.

Giselle startled and turned. Chatting with other passengers ranked near the top of her ‘never’ list. Today especially she wasn’t up to social niceties. She bit her tongue, resisting the urge to unload on this guy. Whoever he was.

The man stood just a couple of feet away, pushing the boundaries of her personal space. She assessed him with her practiced cold once-over, normally enough to send the offender on his way. This guy gazed back defiantly and had the brass to smile.

Why oh why did she spontaneously smile back? It wasn’t her norm, but there was something about him. Disarming. Curious.

Damn fine.

Even as she dragged her gaze away, her mental once-over slowed to a closer examination. As strangers go, he didn’t fall into the sicko or predator category. Tall and well-built, he dressed in a hard-to-read style with jeans, white polo shirt, and dark blue sports jacket. In comparison, she seemed overdressed in her short pumps and smartly tailored gray suit.

Her pulse increased ever so slightly. Whatever consideration she might be giving him must have to do with her absolutely wretched mood, because there was no logic in it. With a lift of her chin, she suppressed her smile. Give him an inch, he’d never quit.

“Flight 289?” she said. “Yes, I think all of us at Gate 12 have that in mind.”

His cocked eyebrow and knowing smile caught her off-guard. “You’re annoyed.”

His expression yelled ‘meet your bet and raise you.’ She huffed and shifted, turning slightly away from him. “Nothing personal,” she said.

“It never fails,” he mused in a conversational tone, turning to look out on the stream of people passing by and releasing his grip on a small bag to drop it by his feet. “Worst possible time of year to travel. And then weather.”

“Hmm,” she replied, not wanting to encourage him. Surely he’d wander off soon. She’d definitely appreciate him wandering off. Heat rose up her chest, an unwarranted reaction to something about him—maybe his aftershave, a scent she didn’t want to acknowledge much less analyze. It reminded her of autumn in the woods, slightly sharp, a hint of musk. And hell, she was analyzing.

“Going or coming?” he ventured, turning his face back toward her with a quizzical expression. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Yes, I mind you asking. I mind you intruding into my privacy. I mind you thinking what you’re thinking.

Which was absurd, she corrected herself. She didn’t know what he was thinking. But then, she really did. There was no way to miss the husky tone of his voice. This jerk was trying to pick her up.

A flash of him kissing her shot through her mind. She couldn’t avoid a quick glance at his mouth. Firm lips, a teasing smile—damn it. Of all the… This was absurd. Whatever little fantasy had wormed its way into the back of her mind, it could just worm itself into the trash bin. Why did she let this guy get under her skin? She was a strong self-assured woman, not some giddy teenager on her first date.

“Going,” she said briskly. “And you?”

~~~

Nab your copy of Holiday Journey at these links. Only 99¢, this short story is a sexy little escape from your holiday stress. Enjoy!

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B019VLNZUU

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/675289

About the Author

lalizzieD+editedI live in the wilds of the Ozark Mountains with three cats, two hound dogs, and whichever child has taken up temporary residence between grad school and relocation. I’ve been writing my entire life and can’t express how wonderful it is to share stories with readers like you. Every book comes from the heart in the hopes that you will find a bit of pleasure within the pages.

Sign up for my free monthly e-newsletter. Liz’s Hot News – Free monthly newsletter with excerpts, freebies, pre-release deals, and much more. Sign up at http://eepurl.com/bHOyS9

Follow me for free erotic short works, hot photos, and the occasional rant on my blog at http://lizzieashworth.com/

Like my Facebook author page for updates on other nice and naughty works https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLizzieAshworth/

A. Catherine Noon: The Triumph of Hope Over Experience:  The Cubs, One Week On
Wednesday, November 9th, 2016

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By now, you’ve probably heard that the baseball team The Chicago Cubs won the World Series for the first time in 108 years.  I live in Chicago and can tell you, the energy of the city has been absolutely electric.  The parade to celebrate their win smashed attendance records and was the largest gathering of humans in United States history, the seventh largest in human history.

What does this teach us about ourselves, especially in today’s political climate here in the States?

Here’s five things we might take away from the experience:

  1. Hope springs eternal. If we believe a thing long enough, passionately enough, and work toward it enough, it will come true.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast;

Man never is, but always to be blessed:

The soul, uneasy and confined from home,

Rests and expatiates in a life to come.

– Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man

  1. Go big, or go home. – Eliza Dushku

Don’t be afraid of dreaming big, because it’s worth it to stretch our ideas of what’s possible.

  1. To dream big, we need to risk being laughed at. The Cubs were known as “the lovable losers.”  People loved to make fun of the hubris inherent in thinking they’d win a series.  Yes, it took time.  But so what?  From the ecstasy inherent in the city this past week, clearly the buildup was worth it.
  1. As Julia Cameron, noted author and creativity specialist, says, do you know what age I’ll be by the time I learn to do [insert dream here]? Yes, the same age as you’ll be if you don’t.  There’s potent logic in that statement.
  1. Keep at it.  The biggest lesson of taking 108 years to win the World Series is this:  the road to achieving our dream may take a long time.  It may take so long that the logic of pursuing the dream is lost.  No one else may believe in it with us.  But if we stay the course, if we keep believing and trying and working toward it, it will happen.  Maybe there’s a reason so many perseverance metaphors are from baseball:  the advice to “throw strikes,” or the anecdote of how many times Babe Ruth was at bat.  But what is the sum of all of this collected baseball wisdom?  It’s the lesson of continuing, of keeping going.  Keep on keepin’ on.

And nowhere is that more apparent right now than in Chicago.

So what about you, Dear Reader?
What might you do if you let yourself dream big?

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”
– E.E. Cummings

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Nicole Evelina: Victoria Woodhull – Groundbreaking Suffragist and Election Day Jailbird
Monday, November 7th, 2016

If you think Hillary Clinton’s got it bad as a female running for President, take a look at how Victoria Woodhull, the first woman to ever run for President in the U.S. spent her Election Day: in jail.

To gain the proper perspective, we need to go back a few months. The summer of 1872 was very hard for Victoria. She was ill with a mysterious ailment that couldn’t be diagnosed and that recurred several times over three months. Her beloved newspaper, Woodhull & Claflin’s Weekly, shut down due to lack of funds. She had already been forced to sell her Murray Hill mansion, and then was kicked out of several hotels, while others wouldn’t rent a room to her (no one wanted to be associated with her or the controversy that surrounded her). She and her family (husband, kids, parents, brothers and sisters) lived for while in the Woodhull & Claflin brokerage offices, but when the landlord found out, he raised her rent so high they were forced to abandon even that location, so that they were homeless for a few days. In desperation, she sent a note to Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, asking for his help to get one of the hotels to let them stay there. He curtly refused.

Her sister, Maggie, eventually managed to rent a place for them to stay under an assumed name. Victoria was tired and still ill, worn out from the whirlwind of her year, which had started off so promising. In September, at a meeting of the National Convention of American Spiritualists in Boston, she decided to finally spill the beans on Rev. Henry Ward Beecher – revealing her long-kept secret that the married preacher was having an affair with Lib Tilton, wife of Theodore Tilton, Victoria’s former lover.

Not satisfied by this small audience – and perhaps in revenge for Rev. Beecher’s refusal to come to her aid in her hour of need – Victoria began plotting on a larger scale. She and Tennie would resurrect Woodhull & Claflin’s Weekly for one more explosive issue (though this didn’t turn out to be its last, only it’s most famous) that would right two long-hidden wrongs. While Victoria told every detail of the Beecher-Tilton scandal she could recall in a fake interview format, Tennie penned a story about the night a businessman named Luther Challis relieved a young girl of her virginity, likely against her will.

Victoria’s “bombshell” was hidden within a seemingly ordinary issue of the newspaper, but that did not stop people from lapping up the scandal inside. According to my sources, the paper sold for 10 cents but by evening people were paying $2.50. The first run of 10,000 copies sold quickly. Some people rented theirs to read for $1.00 a day. One copy even sold for $40. More than 250,000 copies sold in three days. The distributor, American News Company, refused to replace it on the stands after the first 100,000 copies were sold so newsboys came to their offices to get them in person. Some copies were bought and destroyed by Beecher’s supporters, for the article called in to question the idea of marriage as a bedrock of society.

But in the end, it wasn’t Victoria’s story that landed both sisters in jail on Election Day; it was Tennie’s. In telling her tale of Luther Challis’ lewd behavior, Tennie used a line that, although also quoted in the Bible (Deuteronomy), was considered obscene. “To prove he had seduced a maiden, he carried for days on his finger, exhibiting in triumph, the red trophy of her virginity.” Then, when they were tricked into mailing a copy of the paper to Anthony Comstock, the country’s self-appointed moral guardian, they were arrested for sending obscene material through the mail.

So instead of spending Election Day out attempting to vote for herself and getting arrested – and in the process making history ­– Victoria sat with Tennie in the jail cell of a common criminal. (Normally they would have been given special accommodations because they were wealthy public figures, but both the guest quarters and citizen bedroom were full at the time. And to add insult to injury, Victoria’s one-time-friend-turned-rival Susan B. Anthony made history that day by casting her ballot in Rochester, NY. She was arrested and found guilty but refused to pay the fine. Her sensational trial the following year spread her message of suffrage far and wide – just as Victoria had dreamed of doing on her own.

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Forty-eight years before women were granted the right to vote, one woman dared to run for President of the United States, yet her name has been virtually written out of the history books.

Rising from the shame of an abusive childhood, Victoria Woodhull, the daughter of a con-man and a religious zealot, vows to follow her destiny, one the spirits say will lead her out of poverty to “become ruler of her people.”

But the road to glory is far from easy. A nightmarish marriage teaches Victoria that women are stronger and deserve far more credit than society gives. Eschewing the conventions of her day, she strikes out on her own to improve herself and the lot of American women.

Over the next several years, she sets into motion plans that shatter the old boys club of Wall Street and defile even the sanctity of the halls of Congress. But it’s not just her ambition that threatens men of wealth and privilege; when she announces her candidacy for President in the 1872 election, they realize she may well usurp the power they’ve so long fought to protect.

Those who support her laud “Notorious Victoria” as a gifted spiritualist medium and healer, a talented financial mind, a fresh voice in the suffrage movement, and the radical idealist needed to move the nation forward. But those who dislike her see a dangerous force who is too willing to speak out when women are expected to be quiet. Ultimately, “Mrs. Satan’s” radical views on women’s rights, equality of the sexes, free love and the role of politics in private affairs collide with her tumultuous personal life to endanger all she has built and change how she is viewed by future generations.

This is the story of one woman who was ahead of her time – a woman who would make waves even in the 21st century – but who dared to speak out and challenge the conventions of post-Civil War America, setting a precedent that is still followed by female politicians today.

Get your copy here!

About the Author

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Nicole Evelina is a multi-award-winning historical fiction and romantic comedy writer. Her most recent novel, Madame Presidentess, a historical novel about Victoria Woodhull, America’s first female Presidential candidate, was the first place winner in the Women’s US History category of the 2015 Chaucer Awards for Historical Fiction.

Her debut novel, Daughter of Destiny, the first book of an Arthurian legend trilogy that tells Guinevere’s life story from her point of view, was named Book of the Year by Chanticleer Reviews, took the Grand Prize in the 2015 Chatelaine Awards for Women’s Fiction/Romance, won a Gold Medal in the fantasy category in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards, a Gold Medal in the fantasy category in the Reader’s Favorite Awards, and was short-listed for the Chaucer Award for Historical Fiction. Its sequel, Camelot’s Queen, was awarded the prestigious B.R.A.G Medallion.  Been Searching for You, her contemporary romantic comedy, won the 2016 Colorado Independent Publishers Association Award for Romance, the 2015 Romance Writers of America (RWA) Great Expectations and Golden Rose contests and was a finalist in the chick-lit category of the Readers Favorite Awards.

Nicole’s writing has appeared in The Huffington Post, The Philadelphia Inquirer, The Independent Journal, Curve Magazine and numerous historical publications. She is one of only six authors who completed a week-long writing intensive taught by #1 New York Times bestselling author Deborah Harkness. As an armchair historian, Nicole researches her books extensively, consulting with biographers, historical societies and traveling to locations when possible. For example, she traveled to England twice to research the Guinevere’s Tale trilogy, where she consulted with internationally acclaimed author and historian Geoffrey Ashe, as well as Arthurian/Glastonbury expert Jaime George, the man who helped Marion Zimmer Bradley research The Mists of Avalon.

Nicole is a member of and book reviewer for The Historical Novel Society, as well as a member of the Historical Writers of America, Romance Writers of America, the St. Louis Writer’s Guild, Women Writing the West, Alliance of Independent Authors, the Independent Book Publishers Association and the Midwest Publisher’s Association.

Her website is http://nicoleevelina.com/. She can be reached online at:

Sukie Chapin: A Non-Election Election Post (Contest)
Sunday, November 6th, 2016

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Okay, so I’ve gone back and forth and back again on whether or not to write this, and if you’re running screaming right now, please don’t! I have zero interest in discussing foreign policy or Obamacare or global warming (okay, maybe I’d like to talk global warming, but my happy-little-hippy heart will refrain).

I’m not a particularly politically savvy person. I can admit, albeit with some serious shame, that my knowledge of the inner workings of the federal government is mostly relegated to School House Rocks songs and Scandal (*cough* HAWT *cough*). And, let’s be honest, the latter isn’t exactly the most reliable source of knowledge.

I’m not a political person, but I am a human being, and I’m bringing the election up because I’m worried about me and I’m worried about you. I’m worried collectively about all of us.

And the reason I’m worried is because I feel like we’ve been so overwhelmed by media coverage that is angry, sensationalized, and has the express purpose of fear-mongering. The degree of mudslinging and negativity is taking a toll on me (us, if I may be so bold). I feel stressed (more so than normal, ‘cause hey, I’m kind of a stressy lady to begin with), sad, and anxious. I’m finding myself more prone to snap, and I’m eating chocolate faster than my local Walgreens can stock it. Okay, so the chocolate thing is pretty standard, but the other things are new. *pops more Peanut M&M’s*

In my humble opinion, I, personally, have watched and read too much news; it’s inundating my Facebook feed, and it’s even invading the commercials during my escapism comedies. Not cool, election. Not cool. It’s everywhere. And it took me a couple of weeks of feeling this way to figure out the cause, but now that I know, I’m taking action!

I’m saying enough is enough and pulling the political plug. I realize this may not be for everyone; you may be saying, “But this election is crucial – so much is on the line! How can you ignore it?” And if you want to watch and listen and read, then I fully and fervently support your right to do so. I always will. But for me, I can’t. It’s too much. I’ve done my civic duty (I would argue privilege would be a more apt word) by voting and now it’s out of my hands.

So, I’m going to focus on the wonderful, positive things about this country. I’m going to reread the inscription on the Statue of Liberty. I’m going to flip through old vacation pictures and revel in the majesty of this country. I’m going to hug my family and my fabulous group of diverse friends. I’m going to make an apple pie and hang an American Flag outside my door and watch For Love of the Game or maybe Independence Day because, come on, who wouldn’t like a little Thomas Whitmore for President!?

I’m going to wallow in all the good here in the United States of America because I still believe, from the very bottom of my heart, that come next Wednesday, no matter the outcome, we will still be united. We will still be “one nation under God, indivisible, with Liberty and justice for all.”

And if you’re like me and need a little distraction from the election, might I suggest our Crazy Cat Lady Anthology? It’s nine awesome stories, some suspense, some paranormal, some erotic, some sweet, but all romantic and all offering at least a Happily For Now if not a full blown Happily Ever After! And it’s only $0.99 for a limited time!! That’s a lot of story for under a buck!

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Amazon US – http://bit.ly/CCLAmzUS
Amazon AU – http://bit.ly/CCLAmzAU
Amazon CA – http://bit.ly/CCLAmzCA
Amazon UK – http://bit.ly/CCLAmzUK
iBooks – http://bit.ly/CCLiBooks
Nook – http://bit.ly/CCLNook
Kobo – http://bit.ly/CCLKobo
Goodreads – http://bit.ly/CCLGoodreads

And if you love my story, Sanctuary, you’ll want to go ahead and preorder the second part coming in December!

http://bit.ly/SanctuaryTwo

If you’d like to connect with me, here are some ways to get ‘er done:

Newsletter: http://bit.ly/SukiesNewsletter    (Pssst: this one gets you my freebie Wicked originally from Delilah’s Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors!)
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sukiechapin
Twitter:  @SukieChapin
www.sukiechapin.com
Email me!! sukie@sukiechapin.com

Contest

Because I want to “Pay it forward” a little during this stressful time and start a good juju chain, leave me a comment below with something that YOU love about our great country (or your great country, if you’re not in the USA), and I’ll pick one winner to receive a $5.00 Amazon gift card! (Bonus points if you pay this forward with a random act of kindness between now and Election Day!!) Let’s make people smile!!

Marian Lanouette/Merry Holly: Season of Promises
Friday, November 4th, 2016

mlmarian-119-author-picHi Delilah, and thanks for hosting me today. First, my exciting news. I was offered a four book deal with Kensington/Lyrical for my Jake Carrington Mystery Series and I also locked in Doug Grad as my agent.

Today I want to talk about the holidays and what joy they bring me. Not gift giving, though I love spreading the cheer, it’s the attitudes of the world as the holidays slowly roll around: Children anxiously awaiting that magically day. Adults going crazy to get it all done, and romantics dreaming of happily-ever-after.

As someone who’s been married for thirty-seven years I can tell you it’s out there. There’ll be highs and lows, but all-in-all there’s nothing better than connecting with that one special person. With that in mind, I want to share the latest Season of Series book, Season of Promises. I’ve asked all of the authors in the anthology to supply a paragraph why they joined the anthology and to offer us an excerpt from their books.

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Unexpected Holiday Bonus by Merry Holly

It was my love of Christmas I thought up the Season of Series. When I invited the other authors to join me for Season of Magic I never knew it would take off as it has. I’m grateful to all our readers and fans for making each book in the series such a success. In this series, I write using the pseudonym Merry Holly.

Excerpt:

“How do you feel about a male admin?”

“Is he qualified?”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t care about his gender,” Suzette said, shuffling her papers aside. She extended her hand.

“I think we hit pay dirt with this one. He’s almost too good to be true. In fact, he may be more qualified than I am.” Lois scratched her head as she handed over the pages. “The last remark was a joke.”

“Don’t worry, Lois. I’m not looking to replace you.”

Scanning the résumé, Suzette raised an eyebrow. “Bring him in immediately. I don’t want anyone else to scoop him up. And if you can, Lois, make discreet inquiries at his current company. Do you know anyone over there?”

“I know the CEO’s executive admin over there. We belong to the same professional organization.”

“Why don’t you make the call before we bring him in?”

The Littlest Angel by Vicki Batman

Why be in an anthology?

I love writing short stories and having a chance to share them with other authors is a treat. Each of us brings something different to the collection which gives a reader the chance to sample another’s work without a big price commitment. And I do love being in the Season of Series because of whom I work with. The six of us have a strong desire to make the series successful. We have put lots of time, work, effort, and money into the series. Individually, we have skills that when combined together made a strong whole.

Excerpt:

This guy. He’s…detestable, like-like…Mr. Detestable. My hands went to my hips. “Which—the ol’ possession is nine-tenths of the law? Hogwash.

“‘Hogwash?’” He screwed his nose into a loathsome-looking scrunch. “Who says hogwash nowadays?”

“Hogwash is a perfectly good word, meaning insincere talk, writing, et cetera; nonsense; bunk.” I extended my hand. “Now, give me my property.”

A Promise of Forever by Gerri Brousseau

This is the fourth “Season of” anthology that I have been lucky enough to be invited to join, and I couldn’t be more excited. After being part of the “Season of” team for four publications, I have found that the authors have developed a sort of camaraderie.

Season of Promises offers the return of six authors, each writing a romantic, holiday novella. For me, it has given me the opportunity to create a series, which is something I never thought I would ever do. Being part of this team of award winning, best-selling authors has inspired me and sharpens my skills as a writer. I hope the readers love reading these holiday novellas as much as the six of us have enjoyed writing them.

Excerpt:

Her virtue is lost, and her reputation in tatters when a twist of fate sends Lady Roxanne Rothchild from London to the vibrant city of Venice, and into the arms of the handsome and intriguing Danté. But she is not the only one vying for his affection. Anna Maria Delafino de Padova will use everything in her power to drive a wedge between Danté and Roxanne and win his favor, including revealing the truth about Lady Rothchild. Will Roxanne be able to put her blemished past behind her and find love, and will she have the courage to reach for a promise of forever?

His gaze locked with hers. Tears lingered upon her dark lashes, and he reached up to wipe them away.

He’s so handsome. His lips are . . . but before she could complete her thought he lowered his head and his full lips brushed gently over hers. Her heart raced. She brought her hand up to his shoulder, yet she did not push him away. He drew her further into his embrace and kissed her, this time deeper, his lips begging hers to part. She leaned into him and her lips parted, allowing his tongue to dance with hers. Her head swam with remembrance of her earlier fantasy.

Bad Luck Partners by Cara Marsi

When I got the invitation to contribute to the Season of Promises Holiday Boxed Set, I didn’t hesitate. I’m in two other very successful boxed sets with this group of authors. I love working with these talented women. We work well together in promoting our books, and we have respect for each other. Besides, I love their stories.

I participate in boxed sets to get my stories and my name in front of new audiences. I hope readers like my writing and my stories and will look for my other books. And being in a set with other authors lightens the burden of promoting, etc.

Here’s the tagline: In Sin City, a couple, unlucky in love, gamble on each other. Win or lose?

Excerpt: 

“You can’t sit home on New Year’s Eve, Laney. You’ve got to come to the party.”

Laney Sikora’s best friend and co-worker, Amanda, pushed aside her empty coffee cup and rested her elbows on the table to lean closer, her eyes meeting Laney’s.

Laney waved a hand. “Stop with the puppy dog eyes. It doesn’t work on me. If I go to the party dateless, I’ll be a drag on you and Ben. Go. Have fun. Don’t worry about me. You know my luck on holidays. I won’t tempt fate.”

“It’s just coincidence that all those things happened to you on holidays.”

“Coincidence? Au Contraire. Let me get us more lattes, then I’ll refresh your memory about my so-called coincidences.” Scraping her chair back, Laney stood. And plowed into something hard. With a yelp, she jumped away.

“Whoa!” a male voice, very close, said. “Are you hurt?” he asked in a softer tone.

Raising her gaze, she connected with sapphire blue eyes. “I’m okay. I’m the one who bumped into you. Sorry. Are you hurt?”

He smiled, and Laney thought she might swoon. Not only did he have delectable, kissable lips, he had dimples. Dimples!

His muscled chest covered by a dark green T-shirt didn’t hurt either. She slid her gaze to his tight-fitting jeans that molded to his muscular legs. Swoon-worthy for sure.

“I’m a big guy,” he said. “It takes a lot more than a bump by a pretty woman to hurt me.”

You sure are a big guy. And hot!

A Christmas Promise by Jane Gale

A violent attempted robbery at District Attorney Cherry Stevens’ parents’ convenience store has her setting her sights on the city’s crime boss. Finding herself in the line of fire, Cherry is rescued by the sexiest seasoned police officer on the force. Both work for justice seeking peace for the city neither expected to find love in the process.

Excerpt: 

That man needed to stop pointing a pistol at her mother.

Trying to figure out what to do next, Cherry looked along the isle and spotted a glass jar of oil soap. As the gunman started shouting, she crept slowly along the isle.

“Move it, lady, or I’ll put a bullet in you. Do what I say and no one will get hurt. Give me the money in your register or I swear I’ll put a hole in you.”

“Please, I’ll do whatever you say. Just don’t hurt us.”

The fear in her mother’s voice as her words wavered fueled Cherry’s anger at the man who dared threaten her mother, giving her strength to get to the jar and use it on the gunman.

Shuffling movement sounded over the Christmas music as the gunman dragged Ms. Johnson along with him while keeping the gun pointed at Cherry’s mom. Cherry reached the end of the isle, and as she gripped the top of the jar of oil soap, something moved by the front door.

Cherry spotted a man in a police uniform ducking down along the outside wall of the building. Their eyes met, and the man lifted one finger to his full lips to signal for Cherry to remain quiet. The police officer then waved his hand motioning for her to go back to her hiding spot.

Panic filled her thoughts as images of her mother being shot raced in her mind. Cherry couldn’t let that happen.

Tillie’s Last Match by Bobbi Lerman

A question recently posed to me; why participate in an anthology?  An easy answer, one I had no need to ponder for too long. Where writing is such a solitary activity, taking part in an anthology gives me a sense of camaraderie with the other authors working on stories with a common theme and with whom I can brainstorm, bounce ideas off, who keep me on track and on deadline. Marketing before and after the release of the book becomes a group effort versus a singular one, not to mention I get a first look at five other terrific stories.

Excerpt:

Tillie studied the two women as they opened their menus chatting nonstop with each other and with the elfin waitress now bringing their waters. Tillie almost laughed out loud at the sight of Dahlia impersonating a waitress just to get a close-up look at the next assignment.

A look at either woman was not a necessity for her. Mother and daughter looked a great deal alike and though the younger sat with her back to Tillie, she didn’t need to see Molly Stein’s face to know she and her mother shared more that a set of ever-changing, stormy, sea blue eyes or the same burnished copper shade of hair. She didn’t need a close up look in Miriam Stein’s eyes to see what lay hidden behind them. Despite the woman’s  outward cheeriness and rosy approach to life, Miriam Stein harbored a soul-breaking sadness with her heart.

Tillie hoped her latest apprentice was up to the job. Dahlia’s first, and, if all went as planned, Tillie’s last. She hoped the girl wouldn’t be a disappointment like her predecessors. Though if her instincts were right, this one possessed a real talent. Still, maybe she should have warned her little elf that the Stein matriarch would likely turn out to be a most difficult mission.

No matter. Tillie know she couldn’t turn her back on the woman. Boca and her long-awaited retirement world have to wait until Tillie wakened Miriam’s sleeping heart for one last chance at love.

*~*~*~*

Delilah, thanks again. Happy Holiday everyone!

Buy links:

Amazon |  Barnes & Noble | ITunes | Kobo

Connect with the Authors:

Merry Holly
Vicki Batman
Gerri Brousseau
Cara Marsi
Jane Gale
Bobbi Lerman

Jeanette Grey: The Anti-Holiday Romance
Thursday, November 3rd, 2016

I’m going to let you in on a poorly kept secret: I, Jeanette Grey, am a Grinch. Christmas stuff starts showing up in stores and I groan. The specter of buying gifts and traveling gives me heartburn. I actively reprogram the radio stations in my car the second they switch over to holiday music; I’ll take static over one more play of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You”.

So what right do I have to be writing a holiday romance?

None. And yet I did it anyway.

Much like me, the heroine of my new novella, Let It Snow, is a bit of a bah-humbug, and that’s only made worse by the fact that her name is Holly. Having grown up in an unhappy household, Holly doesn’t have many good holiday memories to make the season bright for her. She escaped her childhood home, and now channels her energy into school, her job at the local independent bookstore, general fangirling and geekery, and, oh right, ogling the hot assistant manager at the store, Sam.

Sam’s not looking forward to Christmas this year, either, but for very different reasons. He loves his family, but they had a falling out when he decided not to follow in his father’s footsteps.

Since neither of them have holiday plans, Holly and Sam end up working the late shift two days before Christmas. All seems well, right up until a freak blizzard catches them unaware, stranding them at the store together. With nothing to do but talk, they end up getting much, much better acquainted, trading heated kisses as well as painful secrets.

And the funny thing is that it changes Holly’s perspective on the holiday entirely. While I remain a Grinch to this day, I’ve found that the holidays are all about the memories you associate with them and the people you share them with. As I’ve gotten older and my circle of family and friends has expanded, my heart may not have grown three sizes, but it’s maybe shifted from a small to at least a medium. This Christmas will be the first I spend as a new mom, and already, I can see my perspective on it shifting with the new addition.

So too for Holly. As her circle grows to include not just Sam but his family as well, the meaning of the season changes. She’s able to let go of a little of the loneliness that’s always shrouded it in the past—and by the end of it, she’s more than happy to Let It Snow, indeed.

Let It Snow

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Baby, it’s cold outside . . .

‘Tis the night before Christmas Eve and Holly wishes she hadn’t volunteered to work the night shift. The weather is frightful and getting worse by the minute, and the same old annoying carols are blasting from the bookstore’s speakers. But Holly’s holiday spirit returns when the store’s sexy new assistant manager arrives to keep her company. He has muscled arms, baby blue eyes, and a sweet pair of lips she wouldn’t mind meeting under the mistletoe.

Sam is glad the snow is keeping away customers-it gives him a chance to get close to his favorite employee. Holly has always been a mystery to Sam, like a beautiful present he’d love to unwrap. When they’re trapped by a full-blown blizzard, Holly breaks into the Christmas cookie display. Sam busts out a bottle of vodka from the boss’s office. Soon the two are trading heated kisses—as well as secrets neither has ever felt safe enough to tell before. What started out as one naughty night together turns into something so much more.

Excerpt:

Before he could ask if she was sure, she moved her hand to the nape of his neck, twisting her fingers in the scruff there and tugging him down, leaving him no room to doubt. God, she’d only wanted this for months, and she’d been holding back all night. No way she was letting another minute go by before she sucked his tongue and got the whole length of his body pressed against her.

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, and just like that, everything went hot and electric, and yes, hell yes, this was how she’d imagined he would kiss, all hard and messy and confident as he took charge. He tasted like cheap vodka and cookies and sex, and the slick caress of his tongue made everything flash to liquid in her bones. She made a noise in the rear of her throat that should have been embarrassing except that his own groan echoed hers. The hand on her chest slid to her hip, his other arm wrapping around her waist. She rose onto her toes, but it wasn’t close enough. With a little whine, she hauled herself up, and he was right there with her, getting a hand on her ass to steady her as she hopped and wrapped her legs around his waist and Hello, there.

Fuck, the hard ridge of him through those jeans was hitting her exactly where she needed it to, sending a bloom of pleasure reeling out through her spine and all the way to her toes. The way he was holding her, like she barely weighed anything at all, just made her hotter, and when she ground her hips into his, he practically choked on his tongue, fingers stuttering against her waist and thigh. Her breasts were pressed up tight against the solid muscle of his chest, her nipples stiff points of sensation, and she wanted his hands on them. His mouth and his teeth, and—

Somehow they were staggering backward. Her ass hit the edge of the couch, and he dropped to his knees in front of her, palms sliding over her legs, and her glasses were smudged and askew, and she didn’t care. This was too fast—too much and probably a terrible idea, but everything about it seemed right. He felt so good and he kissed like he’d been made for it, for making a woman go to pieces around him and under him and on top of him, and she wanted to know. To get inside of him and get him inside of her.

 Buy Links:

Amazon:  http://amzn.to/2cD3Z3D
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/let-it-snow-jeanette-grey/1123748224
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/let-it-snow-23
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/br/book/let-it-snow/id1109978204?l=en&mt=11
Google Play: https://books.google.com/books?id=ELEsDAAAQBAJ
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30364203-nine-kinds-of-naughty

Author Links:
Website: http://www.jeanettegrey.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jeanettelgrey
Twitter: http://twitter.com/jeanettelgrey

Elle James: Keep on Keeping On!
Wednesday, November 2nd, 2016

Can’t believe it’s November already! Today is my father’s 80th birthday! Please wish him a happy birthday. I love him soo much! I came down to visit him this past weekend and stayed until today. I also got to spend time brainstorming with my sister, Delilah! I love the time I get to spend with her. We always have such great ideas when we put our heads together!

I just wrapped up my June 2016 Harlequin Intrigue HOT ZONE, and I’m getting ready for the release of SEAL’S DELIVERANCE Nov 15th.  But that’s not all I’ve been doing.

I sent my youngest daughter off to boot camp! That’s right. She joined the Army National Guard and went to Basic Training Oct 24th.  You know how you are when your baby starts kindergarten and then graduates high school? Well, it’s not much different when your baby goes off to Basic Training. I’m happy, I’m sad. Most of all I’m very proud of her and hope she kicks some butt and aces everything!

Today I’m driving with Susan Stoker to Huntington, West Virginia for a booksigning on Nov 5thThe Rebels & Readers Author Event. If you’re in the area, please come see us and a lot of great authors.  Info here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/rebelsnreaders/

And we’re making a stop on Nov 3rd in Lexington, KY and having a reader get-together. If you’re in or near Lexington, come see us! Info here: https://www.facebook.com/events/1668125496835952/?action_history=null

On November 15th, SEAL’S DELIVERANCE is coming out. It’s the last book in the TAKE NO PRISONERS series, and it will tie in with the BROTHERHOOD PROTECTORS series. Pre-order now!

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Navy SEAL, who once was a cowboy, and a sexy CDC biologist, join forces to find biological warfare vials shipped to an unknown location in Montana

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