I think I’m backwards girl when it comes to these blog posts. LOL

In October, I posted here on DD’s blog about a new release, Fake Fiancé For Christmas.  Now, it’s December, and I’m posting about an autumn release, Second Chances, that centers around Thanksgiving.

Technically, Fall/Autumn doesn’t end until December 20^th. Here in south Texas, the leaves on my peach tree are still turning, so I’m good, right? Okay, then. I’m here to give you a taste of my upcoming release, Second Chances, the fourth book in my Sweetwater Springs series of small-town romances set in a fictitious central Arkansas town.

It’s so much fun creating new characters, growing the community, and revisiting some of the characters occasionally in later books. Do you like to read small-town romances with sexual tension and a good dose sexy-time between the characters? Are you a fan of a series where each book is a standalone? If you answered yes, then you’ll like Second Chances and the whole series.

Second Chances

Mayor Jake Fletcher’s small town of Sweetwater Springs is in jeopardy. Their coffers are drying up, thanks to mother nature destroying the major access to the town. Confessing as much to his constituents brings surprises his way:

—Ideas to fix the crisis flooding in

—Two women willing to spearhead the resulting Holiday Extravaganza. One of them, Dixie Jo DeLuca, is an attractive, outgoing real estate agent with a smile that delivers a gut punch.

There’s no time to waste. Jake and Dixie work together, friendly but cautious around each other, flirting a little, but recognizing they’re divorcees with baggage…and three daughters between them. They need to work closely together over the next two months. Any attempt at a relationship could put a strain on their endeavors and their work is too important to the town to jeopardize.

Despite those concerns, their attraction grows. Soon, they agree to a secret affair. They’re two reasonable adults, right?

But a bigger picture has each of them dealing with family concerns as well. Dixie faces an MIA ex, a teen daughter, and a mom pushing her toward an affair. Jake’s sister is divorcing and he’s her attorney, his unpredictable and self-centered ex is coming for Thanksgiving, and he’s harboring a long-kept family secret that he’ll eventually have to reveal to Dixie, even if his honesty means he might lose her.

Amid the festival whirlwind, their day jobs, and daily life with extended family and three children, can Jake and Dixie carve out enough time to build a relationship? And even if that’s possible, are they open to risking their hearts — and those of their children — again?

Warning: The author is not responsible if pizza and cake (as a meal) give you cravings. Contains two reasonably sane adults feeling out of control, sometimes precocious children, and some hot/sweet loving. It also has a not-quite-normal Thanksgiving dinner. Brace yourself. The folks in Sweetwater Springs are a force to be reckoned with.

EXCERPT:

They were both uncharacteristically quiet on the way back to Jake’s office. He couldn’t say what was on Dixie’s mind, but he was more nervous now that they’d agreed to… whatever they’d agreed to. Were they going to date? What would that look like when they had three children between them?

Wait. What was it she’d said… that there was the possibility of a second date? Then afterward, she’d done that pouty lip-lick thing that had made his jeans uncomfortable. Had the pout meant indecision? “So, are you not sure?”

He glanced over in time to see her startled gaze.

“Excuse me?”

“I thought you… Never mind. I don’t know what I’m saying.” He pulled into his parking space and killed the engine.

“You’re freaking out,” she accused with a tinge of awe.

“Am not.” A smile bent the edges of his lips, and she backhanded his bicep. “Ow! Okay, okay. Maybe a little. Aren’t you?”

“Damn straight. I mean other than a quick lunch or possibly breakfast, what would dating look like? I was just sitting here thinking that we have kids we barely see now between work and school. I’m assuming your situation is the same.”

“It is. Lunch. Maybe the occasional breakfast. That’s not a very exciting dating relationship, though I guess we’d get fat together.” He rubbed his arm, though it felt more tingly than hurt. “I think you broke me.”

She laughed. “I barely tapped you.”

“That’s what hurts.” He said, the quietness of his voice filling the interior because he hadn’t been referring to his arm. “I want so much more from you.”

Dixie’s chest moved with more force now, as if she struggled to breathe in and out. In and out. “Could we finish this conversation in your office? I’ve got about a half-hour before my afternoon showing. We could set some ground rules or something. Maybe see if logistically it’s even feasible?”

If the tension hadn’t already been thick, he’d have laughed the comment off.

She shaded her face from his view. “Oh, God. That sounded like we’re negotiating a contract or whatever. I guess I don’t know what I’m saying either.”

“Maybe we should stop talking altogether. Come inside where it’s more private.”

Dixie dropped her hand and met his gaze, her dark eyes smoldering. Still holding his gaze, she opened her door.

He hitched his chin as he opened his door. “Stay there.”

Jake exited the truck and crossed to her side, took her hand, and assisted her down, closing the door with the hand that didn’t hold hers.

She looked at him, her gaze soft and luminous, and gestured to the truck. “I could’ve—”

“I know. I just didn’t want any more time to go by without touching you.”

“Oh.”

“Is that okay?”

“Very.”

They didn’t speak again, though Jake took every opportunity to touch her. He released her hand to place it at the small of her back, ushering her into his law offices. A sign sat on the small front stand.

PLEASE TAKE A SEAT

WE’RE WITH A CLIENT

AND WILL BE WITH YOU SHORTLY

Good. Louise would have her door closed.

Jake ushered Dixie into his office, closed the door behind him, and leaned against it. She stood by the first guest chair, barely two feet away. “I want to kiss you. Is that moving too fast?”

Her chin rose. She stepped toward him, her eyes still exuding that smoldering look that made his pulse race. Damn, she was beautiful.

He moved toward her, could hear her increased breathing, like his own. His forward motion was stopped by a sudden palm planted on his chest.

“Jake, I don’t know what this is or what you want from this. Maybe you don’t know. But I’ve not felt this way in a long time. If this is just physical, drop it now. We’ll—”

“It’s not.”

“Oh.” Her palm relaxed over his heart, where he was sure she could feel it racing.

He rested his hands at her waist and tugged her even closer, a thrill shimmering over him at being able to touch her and be touched.

She slid hers to his shoulders as he leaned in and touch his lips to hers.

It took effort not to crush her to him.

He flicked the tip of his tongue over her lips and Dixie opened to him, her fingers tightening above his collarbone. It was the signal he’d been wishing for.

He let go, pouring all he’d been feeling into the kiss, and Dixie responded. Her fingers speared into his hair, lightly scoring his scalp, tightening his groin as if she’d touched him there. The thought of that happening in the future made his jeans quite uncomfortable.

Jake could scarcely breathe through the desire surging over him. Had he ever wanted a woman this much? It was crazy-wonderful. He slid one hand to the small of her back and exerted a slight pressure.

She molded against him, a tiny noise escaping from the back of her throat, possibly the sexiest sound he’d ever heard.

A knock at his door had them springing apart like teenagers caught necking by the police.

I hope you’ll remember to look Second Chances up and snag yourself a copy on Dec. 10th.

About the Author

“Sizzling romance with heart and humor”

Carol is an award-winning author of Sweetwater Springs, a series of contemporary, small-town romances with serious sizzle and a generous dose of southern charm. Her personal second-chance-at-love story resulted in marriage to her high school sweetheart.

Carol has also written several standalone books not connected to any series. Her Tropical Heat novella characters find love and passion on islands and beaches. Writing as Annie Rayburn, she produces Crainesian mashup romances that are sci-fi, paranormal, erotic, contemporary, and alternate history.

Find Carol on the web:
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorCarolBurnside
Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/carolburnside/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/carol_burnside
Website: http://www.carolburnside.com
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/smDmf

Once again, my sincere thanks to Delilah Devlin for hosting me on her blog today.

Early season’s greetings from Melbourne, Australia.

We’ve just experienced our first warm weekend for the summer after torrential spring rain has caused parts of our east coast to be devastated by floods. The experts predict there is more rain over the next few months. It’s caused by that La Nina thingy. Maybe one day I’ll have time to learn more about it.

Right now, I’d love to tell you a story…

It was just an ordinary visit to a family member in aged care… or so I thought. There were vans and work Utes parked in the street but I thought nothing of them. Walking through the main living area, I saw a wall being painted by a handsome, dark-haired tradie with arms full of dark ink. I’d discovered a recent fascination for tattoos and his were glorious.

Leaving Tattoo Tradie behind, I entered an adjoining hallway to find all the carpet had disappeared and, in its place, a concrete walkway. That was it. Not a soul in sight.

Sometime early in my visit, there was a knock at the door. Standing there was a sandy blonde with guns worthy of display and legs for days. Mister Good looking Tradie had lovely hazel eyes and a panty dropping smile. I was… well, I was a little dazzled.

He was explaining he’d be laying… no, not going there… the new carpet and I’d have to wait until he was done before I could leave. I was cool with that.

Fast forward fifteen minutes or so, I spied him in the doorway on all fours and yeah, he caught me gazing. I flushed and he grinned.

Fast forward another ten or so minutes, I needed to get to work, so I stuck my head out in the corridor and asked him how much longer he’d be.

‘Give me five minutes and I’ll have the carpet ready just for you.’

Just for me…

‘Pity it’s not red,’ I retorted, deeming myself worthy of a celebrity like entrance… or in this case, exit. I quickly realised that what I’d said out of sarcasm was taken as flirting when Mister Tradie’s grin appeared.

‘I like that comment,’ he replied, eyes full of mischief.

What happened next, I hear you ask?

That moment became the inspiration for Mister Tradie, an Instalove vs. slow burn, steamy novella.

Mr. Tradie

Hollie Leigh has declared she’s off men. Every last one.
She has other plans for her future. Plans that don’t include a brazen, flirtatious tradie with a BIG mouth, no matter how good looking he is.

Self-proclaimed floor specialist, Scott Morgan, is hit by the smokin’ hot babe effect, the instant he lays eyes on Hollie.
But her death stare and acerbic wit, tell him he’s got his work cut out for him.
On a whim, he offers her an arrangement. Three weeks. With him.

As a PA for a law firm, Hollie knows to check the fine print and this deal will allow her to walk away once the three weeks are over.

Fun. Flirty. Sexy. Dirty. Mister Tradie has all that and more in his toolbox. But will it be enough to show Hollie their connection is deeper than just flirty banter and hot sex?

Mister Tradie is the first in a series of Sexy Tradie Novellas and is available now on Amazon and KU

About Deb Robinson

Deb’s just a humble little writer who loves what she does. She lives with her lovely husband in their little haven in Melbourne, Australia. She loves all things romance and believes it takes many forms. Her current catalogue consists of hot, contemporary romance under two series: 5 Shades of Brothers Browne and A Sexy Tradie Novella.

Follow Deb Robinson on her official Facebook page
Follow on Twitter @DRobinsonbooks
Follow on Instagram @debrobinsonbooks

The third steamy seasoned romance in my Silverberry Seduction Series released yesterday. An Instagram reviewer recently commented that the whole series is themed around found families, and Turn the Next Page definitely does. Here’s the blurb:

Turn the Next Page

High school sweethearts, their marriage was shattered by tragedy. Thirty years later, a startling confession reignites long banked embers.

On the outside, politician Aubrey Windt is assured and assertive. On the inside, she’s a confused tangle of nerves and regrets. A lost election is the perfect opportunity to reset her life, and she’s going to take it, no matter what anyone says. This time, she means it.

Everything’s fine with Philip Church. Just fine. His second divorce was amicable, his twin sons are grown, and his landscape business runs itself. The fineness is driving him crazy. But reconnecting with his first love provokes an upheaval more potent than he’s ever imagined.

When Aubrey and Phillip learn a startling fact that will forever link their lives, they set out to find the brother Aubrey didn’t know she had. To do so, they must forge a new path, unexpectedly abetted by a stray cat and the eclectic members of a unique book club.

***

Aubrey (52) is a single child who learns that she has an older half-brother who was given up for adoption sixty years ago and sets out to find him. Phillip (53) lost his parents at a very young age and was raised by his aunt. Aubrey has a beloved stepdaughter, and Phillip has a mature, friendly relationship with his second ex-wife. Even the stray cat finds his forever family!

I am drawn to this theme as a writer in part because of my own found family. On my mother’s side, there are eleven grandchildren (including myself). Of those eleven, six are adopted, including my two brothers. Growing up, we knew this fact, but it was a non-issue. We were cousins and siblings, plain and simple.

I write romance because I need the happy-ever-after (and the hot sex. Don’t forget about that LOL!). I write found families because, in the end, isn’t that what every romance is? Whether it is by blood or love, we all crave connection, and exploring this theme satisfies my soul.

Here’s an excerpt from Turn the Next Page:

Phillip didn’t look at her. Tying the handles of the bag together seemed to require all his attention. Aubrey wondered if she’d gone too far. He couldn’t be angry that she wanted to be friends, could he? That was a pretty innocuous wish.

“Only if you want to, I mean.” The hamburger she’d eaten congealed in her stomach, the meal solidifying with nerves. “I’ll understand if, once this is over, you’d rather we didn’t see each other. Except with Marjorie and Clarence getting married, I don’t suppose we’ll be able to avoid it completely.”

He lifted his chin and gave her a level look. “What exactly have I done that suggests I want to stop seeing you any time soon?”

“Nothing!” Oh, god, now she’d offended him. “You’re much too polite.”

His eyes narrowed. “Polite? You think I’m only doing this to be polite?”

She spread her hands, bewildered. “It’s not an insult. Why are you upset?” Where had she gone wrong? She’d only been trying to give him an out, explain to him—and remind herself—that this new connection between them was temporary.

He jerked to his feet, dropped the trash bag, and kicked it under the desk with suppressed violence. “You sit there, looking like that, and tell me we should be friends?” His pointing finger slashed up and down as if dissecting her.

Her hand flew to the messy knot on the top of her head. “I know I’m a little untidy right now, but what does—”

He leaned over, one hand on the desk, one hand on the arm of the chair, his face lowered to hers. “You look like dessert.” His brown eyes flared with amber coals. “Sweet and luscious and delectable.”

Her mouth dried. Sweat sprang up on her palms. She swallowed, hard, and could think of absolutely nothing to say.

“I could never feel anything as bland as friendship for you.” His conversational tone was at odds with his looming stance. His arms caged her, his gaze trapped her, but she had no urge to break free. She sat rooted in her seat, curled like a seed in its shell, mesmerized by his voice. “Not thirty years ago, not now. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed, for me at least. We can’t erase the past. But that doesn’t mean we’re doomed to repeat it.”

“What do you mean?” She’d meant to sound firm, confident, but the words came out in a hesitant whisper.

He answered with questions of his own. “Is that really all you want, Aubrey? To be my friend?”

Her heart pounded high in her chest, choking her. Her breasts and belly buzzed with tingling heat. His scent dizzied her, warm and potent and male. She wrapped her arms around her bent legs, rocking slightly.

“I don’t know if I can be anything more.”

He leaned in closer as she spoke. Her eyes closed briefly, her senses overwhelmed. “Why not?” It was a challenge, a dare.

“No reason.” Her pulse scurried like a mouse on snow, fast and frantic. “And too many reasons.”

Surprisingly, he nodded as if agreeing to this befuddled sentence. “If, when we met a few weeks ago, that had been the first time…if there was nothing between us but the thoughts and actions and feelings of the present…would you still deny what’s happening right now?”

How many times had she wished she’d never fallen in love with him? How many times had she wished the heartbreak and grief they’d shared, the same heartbreak and grief that had torn them apart, had never happened? Only to feel searing guilt that those same wishes would have erased Samantha’s too short appearance in this world?

“That’s not a fair question. It’s impossible to answer.” Her eyes traced the lines bracketing the corners of his mouth, the grooves dug into his cheeks—proof of just how many years had slipped away. “You said it yourself, we can’t erase the past.”

“But we can use it to nourish the future.” He knelt, tucking in close to her chair, so close his chest brushed her crossed arms where they clasped her knees. “The roots of things often live on, dormant and waiting, even when the plant appears withered, is given up for dead. All that’s needed to bring it back to life is a little attention, a little care.”

She knew he was talking about their marriage, their relationship—but he could have been talking about her soul. For years she’d felt like a dried husk, blown in random directions by whatever wind was strongest. He was telling her it wasn’t too late to find fertile soil and start to grow again.

Could he be right?

Releasing from the closed, compact ball she’d formed, she laid her palm on his cheek. The scruff of his whiskers rasped her skin, ruffled along her nerves. She stroked the curve of his jaw, tracing his bottom lip with one fingertip. His eyes grew diamond-bright and she shuddered when his tongue flicked out to taste her touch. She laid her other hand on his chest, shyly pleased to discover the frantic thump of his heart.

Still, uncertainty frayed the edges of her desire. “What happens if—”

“No.” He tilted his head, resting his cheek in her palm. “No what ifs. Answer me this. Do you want me? Tonight, right now?” He asked the questions confidently, as if he had no doubt of her answer, but his eyes watched her warily. She took heart at this sign of vulnerability.

“Yes.” Her heart swooped into freefall. His hands lay on the cushion of her chair and she lowered her feet, feeling the stiffness of her joints and ruing the aches and pains of age. Spreading her knees just the tiniest bit allowed her to feel his fists like heated embers on either side of her thighs. “But—”

“No.” He was stern. “If you have any doubts at all, tell me now and I’ll go to my own room. If you want me to stay, you have to promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“That you won’t regret it in the morning. That you won’t feel guilty or ashamed or any other emotion that might taint something so lovely as desire.”

He was right. Desire was lovely, and even more beautiful when felt for someone so honest and trustworthy and genuine. He didn’t deserve to be the subject of her insecurities.

She spoke slowly so he would know she meant every word. “I promise you. I will not regret tonight. No matter what happens.”

“And what’s going to happen, Aubrey?” He leaned closer, their breath mingling, the heat of their bodies entwining. “Am I going back to my room?”

“No,” she said, and kissed him.

***

If this sounds like something you’d like to read, Turn the Next Page is available at major retailers for a special release week price. https://books2read.com/TurnTheNextPage

Or, if you’d like to start the series for free, Book One Secrets Under the Covers is available here! https://books2read.com/SecretsUndertheCovers

About the Author

Brenda Margriet writes savvy, slow burn, contemporary romances with ordinarily amazing characters. In her own ordinarily amazing life, she had a successful career in radio and television production before deciding to pilfer from her retirement plan to support her writing compulsion.

Readers have called her stories “poignant,” “explicit and steamy,” “interesting, intriguing and entertaining,” and “unlike any romance you’ve read before” (she assumes the latter was meant in a good way).

Connect with Brenda here!
Website: https://www.brendamargriet.com/
Amazon: amazon.com/author/brendamargriet
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/bmargriet
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/brenda-margriet
Facebook: www.facebook.com/brendamargriet
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/worththewaitseasonedromancereaders/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/brendamargriet_author/
Newsletter Sign-Up: https://www.subscribepage.com/brendas-newsletter-signup

Do you love Hallmark movies? Do you sometimes wish the movies would be spicier? A little hotter? If so, All Cowboy and a Holiday Bride is a book for you. It’s sweet, emotional with a happily ever after but with a large dose of sexy.

Excerpt from All Cowboy & a Holiday Bride…

“Don’t fall in love,” Sadie Locke sashayed out of the bathroom, bringing with her the fresh scent of soap and woman. “Now that we’ve taken our first shower together and all.”

“That’s what you’re worried about? I asked to take a shower with you and now I’m high risk for falling in love?” Channing Dawson chuckled and hauled himself up out of bed, then grabbed his rumpled jeans off the floor. “Ain’t happening. I could never love a water hog.”

She captured him with her pale grey gaze. “I’m not worried about things going off the grid. I’m just listing the rules. We don’t want this to get complicated. Sorry about hogging the water, but that bathroom is as big as a broom closet and I’m claustrophobic. Not to mention, the spider we saw was big enough to wear shoes.”

“This is an old hunting cabin. We’re lucky it has a toilet, let alone a shower. I have an idea though.” He used his thumbnail to scratch his temple thoughtfully.

“You do? Call an exterminator, I hope.”

“We could always start meeting at your house. I bet your bathroom, and bed for that matter, is plenty big enough.” He didn’t expect a response to his question, and she didn’t disappoint. Every time he’d mentioned the subject before, she’d ignored him.

“I’m grateful this place has indoor plumbing. I can also tolerate the pet spiders. The mornings are getting nippy though. We might have to give that wood stove a whirl.” She gave her dog, Waffles, a scratch on the head. He was cuddled up on an old rug in front of the stove.

“Just so we’re clear, you don’t have to recite the ‘rules’ every time we get together like I have a kindergarten education. Sex-only is pretty self-explanatory. We meet up three times a week, have a fun time, and then we go about our own business.”

“Do I sense some sarcasm in your tone?” She flicked an eyebrow as she recapped the whiskey bottle they were passing between them last night. “Are you feeling disrespected?”

“Nope. I’m capable of keeping my heart, and dick, in two different lanes.”

“Good news because I really like what we have here.”

A Marriage of Convenience will turn into a Holiday Romance…with a surprise baby.

Sadie Locke has always been great at giving her friends relationship advice, but when it comes to her own love life not so much. That’s why she’s not looking for forever. She and Channing have been secretly carrying on a fling for months, but everything’s about to change. And boy does Santa have his work cut out for him…

Channing Dawson has life just the way he likes it. His business is thriving. And he and Sadie have a no-strings “friendlationship”. What more could a man want? After his brother passed away, he didn’t dare risk loving and losing again. Yet, his heart is speaking a different holiday tune.

Sadie pulls a fast one and makes him her husband. A marriage of convenience or not, the rules are all blurred. He isn’t sure about having a holiday bride, until he realizes he’s had feelings for her all along. Sometimes the risk is worth it all. He could get used to sharing Christmas with her, but does she feel the same? Her secrets, and she has plenty, might ruin any chance they have for a future.

Then he receives the unexpected gift of a lifetime…

About Rhonda Lee Carver

Rhonda Lee Carver is a bestselling author of contemporary western and romantic suspense, but she loves to write other genres too. She’s known for writing stories that keep readers laughing, crying, gripping the edge of their seats, and screaming all in one book…like riding a virtual roller coaster. Whether she’s creating sexy cowboys or tough guys, or sassy, independent heroines, readers are sure to find strong, powerful, memorable characters that are relatable.

By day, she taps into her creative, fictional world but at some point, she transitions back into reality where she’s a volleyball-stands cheerleader, homework virtuoso (at least she thinks so), amateur nurse to skinned knees, mediocre chef with some awesome microwave skills, pet-guru (all the strays show up at her house), and a Jackie of all trades for her kids who are the loves of her life. Yoga and chocolate keep her sane. Hallmark movies require cuddling up with tissues because she can be emotional. She adds a sprinkle of her own real-life adventures in each story she spins because a little truth never hurt anyone. She wouldn’t give up one thing in her crazy, chaotic, ever-amusing life, except, she might do magic tricks for the bungalow on the beach she’s had her eye on (GOALS).

Writing, for Rhonda, is like falling in love and finding a new best friend over and over again. Her characters will find a place inside your heart, too.

UPDATE: The winners are…Jennifer Beyer, Debra Guyette, and ButtonsMom2003!
*~*~*

I love my Montana Bounty Hunters. I’ve said it before, but I try hard to make each of them individual rather than cookie-cutter characters with different names. I also love to dream up unique takedowns for your reading pleasure and to showcase who these men are. One of the sexiest characters I’ve written is Cochise.

Cochise

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

Former Army sniper, Cochise Mercier, left Denver SWAT under a cloud of controversy, which was why he ended up back home in Montana, and where he heard about the Montana Bounty Hunters. The “cloud” didn’t seem to bother his new boss, so he’s “all in” and finding he enjoys hunting down fugitives for bounties, encumbered by fewer rules.

Sammy McCallister is a by-the-book sheriff’s deputy, who has a beef with bounty hunters. Forced to stand by with her gun in her holster, while hunters take down scumbags, she’s particularly irked by the new guy in town. Cochise, with his long black hair and thousand-yard-stare, makes her uncomfortable, itchy in ways she’s never felt before. When she finds herself needing his help late one night, the reason for her irritation becomes all too clear. She wants him. But first, they have to make it out of the mountains alive…

Contest

Are you all caught up reading the original Montana Bounty Hunters series?

For a chance to win a download of one of the stories you may have missed
(I’ll pick three winners!), tell me this:
What profession other than bounty hunters would you like to see in my Montana Bounty Hunters—Dead Horse branch, and beyond—stories?

Here are all the Bear Lodge Montana Bounty Hunters! Yes, it’s an old meme and Brian’s been out a while, but do you really care? 🙂

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Bear Lodge, MT
Authentic Men… Real Adventures…
Reaper: https://amzn.to/2NztLpv
Dagger: https://amzn.to/2zo6Dav
Reaper’s Ride: https://amzn.to/2KKkisI
Cochise: https://amzn.to/2zq4avV
Hook: https://amzn.to/2UrpyYh
Wolf: https://amzn.to/2yUTjr5
Animal: https://amzn.to/2H4Roob
Big Sky Wedding: https://amzn.to/33GprwK
Quincy: https://amzn.to/2QlleM8
Brian: https://amzn.to/2ZV8m2G

Excerpt from Cochise:

Cochise Mercier, the new hire at Montana Bounty Hunters, took a deep breath to force his heart to slow its pace. A trick he’d learned as an Army sniper to make sure a jerking breath didn’t mess up a shot. The trick worked in most situations when he needed his mind to slow and for his focus to home in on a target or a situation. Clearing his mind meant he was able to take in more of what was happening around him and enabled him to discard the things that weren’t important—like the way the wind beat a tree branch against the side of the house, a steady thump that sounded almost like clomping footsteps. Instead, he concentrated on the way the light, beaming through the tall arched windows at the front of the house, flickered whenever his target paced left or right, telling him where their mark was. An important fact, because in minutes, he’d have to breach the oak front door and be ready to take him down—with his weapon or his body, depending on whether Randy Pinter was armed. A fact Cochise would have to ascertain in a split second.

“Can’t see any movement in the back rooms,” came Jamie Burke’s voice through his earpiece. “I think he’s alone.”

He still wasn’t used to hearing a woman’s voice on the comms. He’d never had a female as part of any of his missions on the ground with the Army, and Denver’s SWAT had, at the time, been all male. That voice interrupted his calm. His instinct was to protect women and children, but she was a part of this team—and his boss—so again, he drew a deep breath, pushed aside his concern, and concentrated on his target. Pinter was pacing in front of the window to the right of the front door.

“Girlfriend’s car isn’t in the garage,” came Sky Reynold’s deep voice. “Must have gone for takeout. I’m moving around to the front.”

“Deputies just arrived,” Lacey Jones’s too perky voice sounded. “I’ll go brief them about what’s about to go down. Make sure they know we have the owner’s permission to be here.”

Cochise could hear the excitement in her higher pitch. Thank God, she was back at the road with the vehicles. The thought of her cotton-candy sweetness being anywhere near Pinter made him shudder. The girl might have qualified with her weapon and might be doing well with her self-defense classes, but she had no real experience going head-on with bad dudes. He didn’t want to be around the first time she was truly tested.

“You call it, Cochise,” Jamie said.

With his heart as slow as when he slept, he felt the familiar ice-water chill flow over him. “Ready,” he whispered and then stepped away from the bushes beside the porch. “Moving toward the door… On three. One…two…three.”

He pounded three times on the door. “Federal Recovery Agent! Get down on the floor!”

Then, just as they’d rehearsed, Sky popped up, used a short cudgel to break the right front window, and tossed a flashbang grenade through the opening he’d made.

Cochise turned his back and crouched beside the door. A split second later, he heard the explosion and a muffled shout. He stood and swung the battering ram against the thick front door. The frame around the door splintered. He tossed the ram and kicked the thick oak, waiting as it slammed forward against dark wood flooring. Then pulling his weapon from its holster, he stepped onto the door into the foyer. Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: The winner is…Mary Preston!
*~*~*

For many, November marks the beginning of the holiday season… for better or for worse. I believe most people would agree that the holidays are very polarizing. For a great number of people, it is a time of joy. They tend to get into a tizzy grocery shopping, cooking, decorating, and whipping up holiday delights in the kitchen (or at the bar). This time of year is often one of reflection, being thankful for our many blessings, and extending kindness and generosity to those less fortunate.

For others, the holidays may be a struggle emotionally, financially, or both. It is a time of great sadness and anxiety. Although they outwardly may put on a stoic smile and brave front, they may be fighting many internal demons and turmoil. Sometimes, their distress is a result of not having the financial means to provide gifts for their families and loved ones. Seeing the commercialization of the holidays is hard to ignore. Not having the basic needs of food, clothing, and shelter may be accentuated with media images of people who have an abundance of these things. It may be difficult to see blessings when one has so little. Still, for others, their depression may stem from loneliness—not having family or friends to spend time together.

The Bible verse Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8 (which was popularized in The Byrds’ 1965 song Turn! Turn! Turn!) states, “To everything, there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” The holidays should be a season of joy, but for the ones who it is a season of misery, it should be an objective for others to bring some type of peace or, at least, make the attempt.

What does any of this have to do with memory keeping? Regardless of what the holiday brings, many people are so caught up in the moment and rushing that they fail to give it the proper attention that stores it as a memory. Think back. How many Thanksgivings and Christmases (Hanukkahs, Kwanzaas, etc.) do you remember? Who was present at each? What gifts did you receive and give? What did you eat? What did the decorations look like? When pondering these questions, many people will have some answers but not all. Some people will recall more memories, and some memories may be more vivid than others. When holidays become a struggle, may be difficult to remember a time when they weren’t. Memory keeping during the holidays is a way to preserve the good season and a reason to search for any good in seasons not so joyous.

So, what are some ways to memory keep?

1. Photos/videos. This is likely the most obvious and is self-explanatory.
2. Scrapbooking. Again, this is self-explanatory.
3. Journaling. This is a very inexpensive and effective way to keep holiday document holiday memories.
4. Keepsakes. There is no minimum or maximum number of keepsakes that one may elect to collect. And the best feature about keepsakes is that they could be anything. A friend kept the label from a bottle of wine that was used to make a toast. Another friend made a blanket from the matching Christmas pajamas she and her family had worn throughout the years. Another friend has an album of received holiday cards.
5. Time capsules. Before packing everything away to store for another year, take an item that holds a special memory from each year and store them together. A common item would be a Christmas ornament, but it doesn’t have to be. When her youngest child turned eighteen, a coworker decided that she was done decorating for Christmas. She donated her tree and all the ornaments. Thus, having ornaments in a time capsule for her wouldn’t serve much of a purpose.
6. Music playlist. Create a playlist of songs that will remind you of the Christmas cheer.
7. This one is dear to my heart. Each Christmas, my father used to bake “fruit cakes” from scratch for family members. I use the term “fruit cake” loosely because many of them didn’t contain any fruit and the ones that did were nothing like those horrid things sold in the grocery stores. Without getting into an extended explanation, these cakes were a great delight to family members and brought about many laughs (e.g., cake stealing/ cake wars). Each cake was different—the ingredients depended on the receiver. Once he passed away, this tradition ended. The first Christmas without him, I made a few cakes following his top-secret recipe. (One year, he’d suffered a broken leg from a freak accident and couldn’t stand for long periods of time. As a result, he drafted his youngest—me—to help him make the cakes. And that is how the recipe was passed to me.) However, without him, it wasn’t the same, and the cakes didn’t bring about the joy that they once had. Yet, I missed this tradition. Some years later, my daughter who was a Harry Potter fan wanted to have butter beer on Christmas Eve while we snuggled and watched holiday movies. Well… when I tell you I managed to concoct one of the nastiest “potions” ever tasted, it’s not an understatement. I don’t know what went wrong. The next year, I attempted to redeem myself with a different butter beer recipe and managed to somehow render something even fouler. It’s now become a tradition of trying new recipes each year—not just for butter beer but for cookies, candies, punches, and pies. We write them on the front of recipe cards. On the back, we write our opinion and give it a rating. Now, we could easily store these on a computer, but we elect to handwrite them because one day we each will pass away. The ones left behind will have that handwritten memory.

That does it. What did you think? What is your take on the subject? Do you agree or disagree? Did you find this information helpful or informative? Did you learn anything new, or did it change your opinion? Let me know your thoughts in the comment section. Also, let me know if you would like me to cover more of these types of topics or dive deeper into this one. If you like this post, please click the like button and share it. Your feedback allows me to know the content that you want to read. If you’re not following me on the Creole Bayou blog, what are you waiting for? There’s always room at the bayou.

Get ready. It’s almost time to hit the ice again. Future Goals Coming soon.

Future Goals

When a college hockey player needs the help of an attractive older attorney, he gets more than he bargained for when trying to sort out the troubles in his career. Falling in love was never part of either man’s plan, especially as Corrigan’s and Sacha’s lives should never have collided. Now they’re left questioning if they’re standing in the way of the other’s future goals, or if there’s room for redirection.

Preorder your copy at:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3RjPYb9
Other booksellers: https://bit.ly/3CI8d5W

Missed the first four books in my hockey romance series? No frets.

Out of the Penalty Box (book #1), where it is one minute in the box or a lifetime out, is available at http://amzn.to/2Bhnngw. It also can be ordered on iTunes, Nook, or Kobo. For more links on where to purchase or to read the blurb, please visit http://bit.ly/2i9SqpH.

Defending the Net (book #2) can be ordered at https://amzn.to/2N7fj8q or www.books2read.com/defending. Crossing the line could cost the game.

Ice Gladiators (book #3) is the third book in my Locker Room Love series. When the gloves come off, the games begin. Available at https://amzn.to/2TGFsyD or www.books2read.com/icegladiators.

Penalty Kill (book #4) takes the ice again. Get a copy at https://amzn.to/3ex0N9p or https://amzn.to/3ex0N9p and let the pucker begin.

***CONTEST & GIVEAWAY***

Would you like a FREE mystery stationary gift? It’s simple. Leave a comment telling me what how you plan to memory keep this holiday season or your favorite holiday memory. It’s that easy. A winner will be selected at random. Contest will remain open until 11/25/22 at 12:00 AM CST.

For more of my stories, shenanigans, giveaways, and more, check out my blog, Creole Bayou, www.genevivechambleeconnect.wordpress.com. New posts are made on Wednesdays, and everything is raw and unscathed. Climb on in a pirogue and join me on the bayou.

If you have any questions or suggestions about this post or any others, feel free to comment below or tweet me at @dolynesaidso. You also can follow me on Instagram at genevivechambleeauthor or search for me on Goodreads or Amazon Authors or BookBub or TikTok.

NEWSLETTER! Want to get the latest information and updates about my writing projects, giveaways, contests, and reveals first? Click https://genevivechambleeconnect.wordpress.com/newsletter/ and signup today.

Until next time, happy reading and much romance. Laissez le bon temps rouler.

While it’s a little past the actual dates for Wolf Awareness Week, there’s never a bad time to learn about those beautiful creatures! Wolf Awareness Week is held the Third Week of October and while we didn’t plan it, it perfectly coordinated with our release of the TEAM WOLF series set in Elle James’ Brotherhood Protector World.

The graphic I’ve used here is a combination of a number of graphics that I made to use in the Brotherhood Protectors group so that readers could find out more about the wolves that our team was so bent on protecting.

I was so excited to have a series of books set in and around a National Park. I’m a bit of a park person. When my son was young, we did take him to amusement parks and he liked them, but he really came alive when we visited National Parks. Discovering new animals and touring caves, taking long hikes, and getting hands-on with exhibits that the Park Rangers brought out for interactive exhibits.

Those were favorites of mine too. Learning about the flora and fauna of an area is always exciting for me. The natural world has always been an exciting topic for me. I think you’ll see some of that in my book, Guarding Eris. One of the bits of my research into the area of Yellowstone plays a big part in one of the tense moments of the book.

So, I hope you’ll enjoy reading Guarding Eris and the other books in the series!!

I’d love to know… Which National Park is your favorite??

Guarding Eris – https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BDGGKLZR/

Team Wolf Five Book Series – https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0B9T6HNRK