A haunted house with a story to tell…

Do you believe in ghosts?

Since I live in a 200-year-old house, I’d have to say I do. In fact, I think these “sprits of the past” are the ones who helped me bring my new novel Lacewood to life.

They didn’t haunt me by moving things or slamming doors, yet somehow I know they’re here. They have to be. People lived in this place. Had babies here. And died here.

Wondering about the lives they lived was the initial spark that got me started on this novel—along with one other strange occurrence. I began noticing sycamore trees while driving to work. Suddenly, they were everywhere…stretching their ivory white limbs up to the sky in the distant fields. Most people would ignore this sudden fascination, but being an author, I knew it was the prodding of my writing angel (that’s what I call her)—and I don’t ignore the writing angel.

After doing some research, I discovered that sycamores have quite a history—all the way from the Bible to the American Civil War. I also stumbled across a reference that referred to sycamore trees as lacewood.

Lacewood sounded beautiful…like the title of a novel. This was wonderful news, because I usually struggle with a book’s title long after it is completed. The bad news was…that’s all I had.

Staring at a blank computer screen brought to mind the image of a house beyond a gate that was deserted for some reason. I decided the house must have secrets—but I had no idea what they were. From the beginning, I envisioned a portrait on the wall with a second portrait missing. Unfortunately my writing angel didn’t tell me who the portraits were of or why one was missing…

Back to the house I live in. I searched for years for “just the right house,” and finally bought the one I still live in (even though it only had an outhouse at the time). After doing some research, I discovered it was owned by a Revolutionary War captain, whose family was among the original founders of the town of Gettysburg and surrounding county.

Many years later, while visiting a local cemetery, I noticed the last name of the former owner listed as a middle name of one of my ancestors. I soon found out that my grandmother’s kin married this man’s kin, so that this wonderful house that took me so long to find, belonged to someone in my own past.

Random chance? Or grand design?

If you read Lacewood, you’ll get a glimpse of how the spirits of the past seem be the ones directing us all along…

To learn more about Lacewood, watch the 1-minute video trailer here. The Launch Week price of $3.99 ends on June 23.

Lacewood

A love story that spans centuries…

Two people trying to escape their pasts find a connection through an old house—and fulfill a destiny through the secrets it shares. Part love story, part ghost story, Lacewood is a timeless novel about trusting in fate, letting of the past, and believing in things that can’t be seen.

MOVING TO A SMALL TOWN in Virginia is a big change for New York socialite Katie McCain. But when she stumbles across an abandoned 200-year-old mansion, she’s enthralled by the enduring beauty of the neglected estate—and captivated by the haunting portrait of a woman in mourning.

Purchasing the property on a whim, Katie attempts to fit in with the colorful characters in the town of New Hope, while trying to unravel the mystery of the “widow of Lacewood.” As she pieces together the previous owner’s heartrending story, Katie uncovers secrets the house has held for centuries, and discovers the key to coming to terms with her own sense of loss.

The past and present converge when hometown hero Will Durham returns and begins his own healing process by helping the “city girl” restore the place that holds so many memories. As the mystic web of destiny is woven, a love story that might have been lost forever is exposed, and a destiny that has been waiting in the shadows for centuries is fulfilled.

A powerful and poignant tale that vividly conveys the heartache of war, the tragedy of loss, and the fulfillment of destiny…even when souls are separated by centuries. Lacewood takes readers on a journey that connects the past with the present—and the present with eternity.

Excerpt:

Turning in a circle, Katie studied the room again. Faded wallpaper curled and peeled above the dusty wainscoting, but the walls themselves appeared sturdy. On the far side of the entryway, and dominating the wall, stood a mammoth fireplace with an ornately carved hearth. Her attention was immediately drawn to a painting of a woman in nineteenth century dress that hung prominently over the mantel.

“Who is she?”

The sheriff turned to the dusty, sun-bleached portrait in the heavy carved guilt frame. “One of the previous owners, they say.” He shrugged. “The family history kind of got lost with the house. Everyone around here calls her the Widow of Lacewood.”

Katie stood spellbound. The woman was clothed completely in black, but the magnificence of the gown gave the impression of sophistication and class. Her chin was slightly elevated as if to project strength, yet there was more than a hint of sorrow and pain in her eyes.

“She looks so sad.” Katie spoke without removing her gaze. “And so young. How could she be a widow?”

The sheriff had already started to walk away, but he turned back and glanced at the painting. “Not sure, but they say she never remarried.”

Katie’s heart suddenly struggled to beat. The anguish in the woman’s eyes kept her riveted. She could see the pain. Feel a heart ripped apart. Something was missing that could never be replaced. Katie had felt such loss before. In a way that’s why she was here.

BUY LINKS:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07PW8BQJ4
Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/lacewood/id1443163718?ls=1&mt=11
Universal Linkhttps://books2read.com/u/mYoj2P
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/lacewood-2

Jessica James Bio

Jessica James believes in honor, duty, and true love—and that’s what she writes about in her award-winning novels that span the ages from the Revolutionary War to modern day.

She is a three-time winner of the John Esten Cooke Award for Fiction, and has won more than a dozen other literary awards. Her novels have been used in schools and are available in hundreds of libraries including Harvard and the U.S. Naval Academy.

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

AUTHOR WEBSITE: https://www.jessicajamesbooks.com

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jessica-james

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/southernromance/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/586216.Jessica_James

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/R

Howdy, Delilah fans!

I’m happy to share with you the cover of my next release, TRASHED, out July 16. It’s a sexy contemporary romance, the next book in my Eastside Brewery series. TRASHED is a standalone, and it’s available for preorder now.

If you like tatted-up bad boys, I have an inkling you’ll like Eddie.

ABOUT TRASHED

He burns for her. Lucky for him, she likes to play with fire. . .

My name is Eddie Rosas, but everyone calls me Trouble. Since I got out of prison six months ago, I’ve had one goal: find my father, whatever the cost. My older brother says I need to move on. He also wants me to leave our gang, East Side Hollenbeck, and go straight, but I can’t—not until I uncover the truth about our family and its missing piece.

One problem? I’m distracted. My distraction’s name is Carmen Centeno. Smart, passionate, and tough as hell, Carmen is a woman from the neighborhood who’s built her career as one of the city’s top chefs. She’s a master of creating pleasure both in and out of bed. But when our connection deepens, how can I show her I’m not the trash everyone says I am?

The pressure’s rising. Carmen deserves a man she can depend on. And when the ghosts of my past rise up, I’ll have to outsmart them—or lose my shot at a future with the only woman who believes in me.

Preorder today:
Amazon US | Goodreads

PRAISE FOR THIRSTY, EASTSIDE BREWERY BOOK 1

ONE OF THE BEST ROMANCE NOVELS OF THE YEAR “A powerful, honest look at love as both a motivation and a risk.”—The Washington Post

“Heartrending, raw and beautiful.”—USA Today

“A brilliant read. There are good writers, and then there are writers that just leave you in awe. And Hopkins has definitely left me in awe.”—Hypable

“Bold and unapologetic . . . Well written with honest descriptions, vibrant characters, and an impactful narrative.”—Smexy Books

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mia Hopkins writes lush romances starring fun, sexy characters who love to get down and dirty. She’s a sucker for working class heroes, brainy heroines and wisecracking best friends. Her favorite form of procrastination is baking. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and daughter.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Newsletter

GIVEAWAY

To celebrate the upcoming release of TRASHED, I’d like to give away three ebook copies of THIRSTY, the first book in this series. Click here to enter. Click here for Amazon Giveaway official rules. No purchase necessary. Good luck!

Most everyone has heard of a bucket list. For those who haven’t, a bucket list is a comprehensive wish list of ideas, achievements, and experiences that a person strives to accomplish in his/her lifetime. Bucket lists have no set number of entries or right or wrong listings. Each list is individualized by its creators. Some people share what’s on their list with others while some choose to keep their list private. Some people do not have a list at all and never make one. Just as there are no correct or incorrect listings, it’s neither good or bad to have (or not have) a list. It all depends on the person and his/her point of view.

So, why am I discussing bucket lists and rehashing information that is common knowledge? Well, as I was thinking of my own bucket list and running my mouth with friends and writer colleagues about our current works in progress, I began to see a pattern in romantic encounters we’d either shared in real life or have written about in our works. I decided to take a closer look to investigate if there exists a type of romance bucket list—not necessarily one that most people hope to accomplish, but rather, activities that most people have engaged in during their lifetime. And sure enough, there seems to be. As you guessed it by the title, I’m going to list them here.

Now before I begin, I need to make a disclaimer. This list is in no way comprehensive. If you feel I’ve omitted something that should be on this list, please comment on this post. Also, if any brands are mentioned, it is not an endorsement of any sort. This post is not sponsored by or affiliated with any brand or company.

Now, onto the list. This list is not in any particular order of importance. The numbers are ordinal only.

1. Kissing beneath the mistletoe. Yes, people actually do this, perhaps not as much as in the past because fewer people seem to hang mistletoe during the holidays. And maybe that’s because the Hallmark Channel has purchased all of the mistletoe because they seem to have an abundance of it in their holiday movies.
2.  Long walks on the beach with one’s lover. I’ll admit that this is not anywhere to be found on my personal list. Being assaulted by windblown sand and squishy stuff between my toes isn’t my cup of java (and I don’t even drink coffee). But I’m not hating. This looks super romantic—for others.
3. Watching the sunrise (or set) together to end a wonderful date.
4. Stargazing with that special someone in a remote location where the rest of the world fades into nonexistence.
5. Making out in the backseat of a car/truck/SUV (you get the gist…automotive). This classic throwback still occurs. “Lover’s Lanes” do not appear to be the designated hotspot to engage in this deed, but there are plenty of other locales.
6. Feeding each other. Perhaps only germaphobes will think this isn’t hawt. Nearly, every person I talked to/interviewed said they thought this was a loving and intimate act. And the food being fed doesn’t matter. However, if you’re interested, the four most common foods that I heard listed were chocolate, strawberries, grapes, and desserts in general.
7. Dancing cheek-to-cheek even when the music stops playing. Y’all when this happens, this is how one knows he/she is really into a person There is no disputing the chemistry and romance when this occurs.
8. This includes isolated foot, back, head, or neck as well as full body massages and does not distinguish between giving or receiving. This does not include massages given in those “suspect” parlors. That’s another type of list (“The Client List”). Oh, and scented oils and lotions are a bonus.
9. Hot tubs, jacuzzies, and showers, oh my! Bathing or soaking together turns up the heat level to scorching. Steam rooms also were mentioned but not as frequently. I’m going to assume that may be due to most people having less access to steam rooms. Bubble baths popped up multiple times. (Get it? popped up as in bubbles… Yes, I’m a bit corner. Okay, a lot corny.) Anyway, Bubble baths were mentioned frequently, however, they were mentioned as “solo” guilts of pleasure.
10. Private stripping/pole dancing. This wasn’t one I expected (and honestly, I’ had to side-eye many of my friends … lol), but this seems to be a very popular thing. Oh-bee-kay-bee. It made the list. Have fun with it. It’s all good.
11. Spending a day in the park and eating food from park vendors. A very simple and inexpensive date but still romantic. Who said romance needed to cause bankruptcy, maxing out the Mastercard, or require a bank loan?
12. Initially, I categized this with park activities. However, it became evident that romantic picnics frequently happened outside of parks (e.g., rooftops, beaches, observation points, even living rooms. So, picnics had to have a separate listing.
13. And speaking of living rooms, sharing a bottle of wine in front of a fireplace, although the beverage does not necessarily have to be wine. Hot chocolate/cocoa had a high listing, too.
14. Breakfast in bed prepared by a lover. And some of you probably were thinking I’d forgotten to add this to the list. But nope, here it is—saving the best for last. This is a granddaddy staple to the list, in my opinion, even when the mean is burnt to a charcoal consistency and the kitchen sink looks like an atomic bomb hit a navy mess hall. It’s the thought that counts.

That’s it for this list. Well, not really. There are several more items that were frequently mentioned, but I arbitrarily decided to stop at fourteen. If you would like a part two of this list, let me know in the comment, and I will be happy to oblige.

*~*~*

Enjoy sports romance? Check out my new adult romance, Defending the Net, released on November 10. It is the second in my hockey series and guaranteed to melt the ice. It will be sold at Kindle, Apple Store, Nook, Kobo, !ndigo, Angus & Robertson, and Mondadori Store. Order a copy now at www.books2read.com/defending. Crossing the line could cost the game.

Missed the first in my hockey romance series? Don’t worry. Out of the Penalty Box, an adult romance where it’s 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 where to purchase or to read the blurb, please visit http://bit.ly/2i9SqpH.

UPDATE: The winner is…Tamara!
*~*~*

Love panther-shifters? Love a sexy Cajun drawl? Enjoy the excerpt and enter to win it!

Comment for a chance to win a free download of Bad Moon Rising!

Bad Moon Rising

On a whim, romance author DiDi Devereaux decides to travel to remote Louisiana bayou country to take possession of a house she inherited from a reclusive relative. But before she reaches her destination, she drives her car into a ditch to avoid a large animal that leaps into her path. Rescue comes in the form of a sexy sheriff, whose gruff demeanor seems to hide a feral attraction. As DiDi settles into her new home she finds herself torn between her attraction to the sheriff and the raw, handsome bad boy whose offer to help her renovate her home is a little too convenient and tempting.

Nothing in Bayou Noir is what it seems. When strange things begin to happen, her natural curiosity leads her into danger…

Get your copy here!

Read an excerpt…

DiDi hit SAVE and shut down her computer. Her newest story was beginning to pull together—or at least, the characters were coming alive. The external plot of her novel hadn’t yet gelled, because she hadn’t discovered what secrets the sheriff and the bad boy hid.

But the characters were now fully fleshed—the two men appealing to her heroine in ways DiDi understood all too well. The question she still struggled with was which man her heroine would ultimately choose. The thought made her smile.

DiDi closed the computer lid. Of course, Sheriff Breaux and Bobby Sonnier were the models for her two heroes. All the while she’d described her heroine’s first meeting with the men, she’d described her own feelings, and how her curiosity and body had both been aroused. Which man did she, DiDi, prefer? Funny, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought a man so disturbingly attractive. But in this remote location, within a single hour, she’d met two.

She stretched her arms above her head and glanced at her watch—two o’clock AM. Since she was a night owl by habit, she didn’t worry. However, the room was warm. The AC chugged along, but didn’t seem to cool very well. Upon returning to the room, she’d changed to cutoffs and a tank top, but the fabric stuck to her skin. Maybe drinking something ice-cold would cool her enough to rest comfortably. She slipped the pass key into her back pocket, tucked a couple of dollar bills into the front one, and let herself out of her room.

Outside, she breathed in the thick, humid air. The night was quiet except for the distant, blended hum of insects and frogs. Maybe it was the cloying heat, but she felt restless and aroused. Her thoughts swirled with the erotic fantasies she’d been spinning into a story.

A woman caught between two men.

On the outside, one wore a white hat, the other dressed like he’d just dragged himself out of bed. But inside, both souls were painted with the same darkness.

The soda machine stood next to the office, so she walked barefoot along the sidewalk, slid her money into the slot, and hit the button for a Coke. The machine shuddered, but nothing dropped into the well at the bottom.

“Damn.” She hit the button again. Nothing. Cursing, she bent and stuck her arm up into the opening, found the bottom of her can lodged at an odd angle, and rattled it until it dropped into her hand.

When she straightened, she held the can away and opened the tab, letting it spray outward.

The can was icy cold, and she drank down several gulps before turning back to her room.

DiDi drew up short. A car had parked in front of her room. A sleek Caprice with the township’s emblem and blue lights on the top. Sheriff Breaux stood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching her.

Had he seen her wrestle with the coke, her butt in the air? Would she ever catch a break with the guy?

DiDi made herself straighten her shoulders and sauntered toward the large man. Did he always wear that expression—so dark and intense, so watchful? She caught the way his narrowed glance scanned her bare legs and feet, and she shivered.

She’d take his frown over a smile from another man any day—the gesture did things to her. Challenged her. Made her tingle in all the right places. “Evenin’, Sheriff,” she drawled, walking closer.

“Miz Devereaux,” he said, nodding.

“DiDi,” she replied, curving her lips. “I thought we were getting friendly.”

His expression didn’t soften. “It’s late. Doesn’t a city girl like you know it’s not safe to be alone outside after dark?”

“Tell me,” she said softly, teasingly as she leaned against her room’s door. “This is a small town. What should I fear? And is the danger sporting four legs or two?”

His features stilled. He stepped closer and looked down his nose.

A move like he was trying to intimidate. She didn’t know why, but his stance aroused her.

“Bayou Noir is a quiet town,” he said, his voice dead even, “but you’re a beautiful woman. More temptation than man or beast might be able to resist.”

DiDi blinked, all bluster gone. Heat soaked the crotch of her panties. He thinks I’m hard to resist? “Looks like I don’t have a thing to fear with you here, Sheriff.”

His lips crimped in irritation, and he shook his head. “Told you before, Mason,” he bit out. “Seein’ as how we’re friendly now.”

Two could play this game of chicken. She stepped close enough she could smell him. “What if I like sheriff? I like a man being in charge.”

His nostrils flared. His eyelids fell. “Careful, chère…”

“Am I really that hard to resist?” DiDi lifted her chin.

He didn’t answer, but his gaze fell to her mouth.

DiDi knew she’d roll her eyes if a character in her book licked her lips at a time like this, but she couldn’t resist the tease. She stroked her bottom lip, wetting it and watching Mason’s eyes narrow further, homing in on the simple little motion.

“You like playin’ with fire?” he muttered, his voice guttural.

“I’m not playin’.”

His eyes were shadowed, a touch sinister and frightening.

She couldn’t have said why, but she wanted to rattle him. Answer his challenge with one of her own. DiDi leaned into Mason, pressing the hand not holding the soda against his chest and rising on her toes. When her mouth approached, she saw his lips part.

But he held still, watching her with that dark, steady gaze.

She placed her lips against his and rubbed, and then did it again when he still didn’t move. Pulling back, she gave him a slight glare. His expression hadn’t changed, but that didn’t defeat her. No way could she be this hot if he wasn’t returning some of the heat.

Plus, he hadn’t warned her away with a word or a gesture, hadn’t moved back either. Not exactly a no.

Angling a hand backwards, she set the soda on the windowsill and reached up to clutch his shoulders, pushed her chest against his, snuggling closer, and kissed him again.

His hands curled gently around her waist.

Her heart sped up, her body melted. She pressed her lips harder.

However, Mason pushed her away…but his fingers didn’t let her go.

Rather than reach for him again, DiDi curved her fingers into her palms. She’d never thrown herself at a man like that, without an ounce of encouragement. Feeling like a fool, she pushed at his hands. “Don’t worry,” she said, unable to hold his steady stare now that she’d humiliated herself. “I promise I won’t attack you again.”

“DiDi.”

“What?” she snapped, lifting her face, hoping to salvage her pride.

“Dammit.” His lips slammed on top of hers. His hands let go of her waist and glided around her back, pulling her against him. And then he was walking her backward, pushing her against her door while he devoured her mouth.

DiDi thought she’d been ready for his kiss. Ready for whatever he’d bring, but under the onslaught, her head swam, her knees weakened. She locked her fingers behind his neck.

Scents intensified—the smell of thick, green forest, the exhaust of his car, his aftershave, the unique smell of his masculine musk.

Sounds—an indistinct hum before—returned, becoming louder. Crickets chirped, frogs croaked. The wind sifted through the trees, rustling leaves and creaking branches. And his heartbeat grew loud enough, insistent enough, her own matched its beat.

And God, the lush, wet thrill of that kiss! His mouth was hard, his tongue sinfully fluid, sliding along hers then tangling and twisting until she had to suck on it to keep him still and savor the sensual connection.

DiDi felt as though she drowned in a perfect moment, falling deeply into lust, her body shivering and bending toward him.

Mason broke the kiss. His gaze raked her face; his jaw tightened. “Better get inside an’ lock that door, chère.”

“And if I don’t want to?” she asked breathlessly, looking deep into his dark eyes.

“Gimme your key.”

Relief made her knees shake. He’s coming inside. She dug into her pocket for the key card and handed it over. He swiped the key and pulled down the latch next to her hip. Then he tossed the key toward the bed behind her and grasped her waist.

DiDi began to reach up to enfold him in her arms—

Scowling, Mason pushed her backward and closed the door in her face.

“Fuck,” she whispered. That had never happened before.

I’m often asked where I get my story ideas. Sometimes it’s a character that pops into my head with a story to tell. Other times a scene plays out in my imagination and I need to write the book to see what happens next.

For my newest book, Love Proof, (releasing June 26, 2019, available now for pre-order) I’d heard about a new series my publisher was launching — a small-town romance (any sub-genre) centred on a historic bed & breakfast in Vermont. Ideas for characters and plots ping-ponged immediately — a bookstore owner? A waitress in a café? A missing husband?

I read the series bible (established characters, occupations, and businesses, along with a map of the town, as well the synopses of the already contracted stories) and noticed a gaping hole. Where was the bakery? Zounds! Every town needs a bakery!

Since I’m a home baker who bakes to relax (and maybe procrastinate <grin>) my heroine had to be a baker with her own shop. I didn’t want her getting up at 2am in order to have breads and rolls ready by opening time. That would be problematic for romantic sleepovers. So, Fiona specializes in cupcakes and bar cookies. As we all know, a cupcake is sad without sprinkles and the name of the bakery became Love Sprinkles.

I think it would be unfair, perhaps cruel, to fill a book with descriptions of yummy treats without giving readers the chance to sample the treats, and I included a couple tried and true recipes I’ve been baking for years.

Location and occupation were the easy parts of story development. Discovering the hero and heroine’s internal struggles — what will draw them together and what will keep them apart — required more work.

I determined that they had known each other in high school (they are now in the mid-30’s) and I set the cause of their conflict back in their angst-riddled teen years. So much fun! I was not one of the popular kids and could relate with Fiona’s less-than-fond memories of not fitting in.

I’m sure we all remember that one guy in high school — captain of a sports team, class president, talented musician — on whom all the girls had a crush. That was my hero. Except Raynor has a secret — he’s lousy at relationships, and has declared a moratorium on dating.

Until he walks into Love Sprinkles and sees that the girl from high school is all grown up.

Love Proof

Unemployed photojournalist Raynor Elliot stops at a bakery near the famous Deerbourne Inn. Not only does he get a lead on a job but the bakery’s owner is that awkward kid he knew in high school, only now she has fabulous curves and an irreverent sense of humor. The cozy bakery, with its aroma of sugar, vanilla and spice, has more to offer than tasty cookies.

Fiona MacLeod has been plagued for years by the need to make amends for telling The Big Lie. When the lie’s victim strolls into her bakery with his icy blue stare and killer charm, she feels like she’s standing too close to a hot oven.

Between running her bakery and frosting cupcakes for the Mad River Garden Party, she’s pretty sure she’s falling in love with this infuriating, sexy man. Can Fiona dredge up the courage to confess, face the consequences, and hope for forgiveness?

Excerpt

“I remember those days.” She pushed the calculator to the side, too tired to worry about planning the week’s baking schedule. “Why’d you study journalism?

“Truth is important to me. I was tired of all the lies in government, at every level. I wanted to change that. Ultimately make the world a better place. Easy peasy, right?” His lips quirked and he shook his head.

“That’s why I decided to be a baker. Brighten someone’s day with a special treat.”

He scooted his chair closer and pointed at the column of numbers on the page. “You want me to do the rest?” His arm, bare to the bicep, lightly tanned, dusted with blond hair, a little lighter than on his head, rested less than an inch from her own spindly pale arm. Not spindly compared to other women, hefting bags of flour and moving trays of baked goods did take some muscle power. But spindly compared to his manly toned muscles flexing under skin that she’d bet her last jar of sprinkles was smooth and warm. She clenched her hand.

No touching allowed.

“We have cupcakes to frost.” She bounded from the chair and rushed into the kitchen.

Holy moly, the guy oozed sex. In a good way. A very good way. She pulled a clean apron off the shelf and cinched it around her waist. An extra layer of armor between her and temptation in the form of Raynor. The seeker of truth. The man whose mission in life was to expose lies. The reporter who thought liars were not decent human beings.

Pre-order links:
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Love-Proof-Deerbourne-Luanna-Stewart-ebook/dp/B07S2SBP4V
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Love-Proof-Deerbourne-Luanna-Stewart-ebook/dp/B07S2SBP4V
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/s?k=Love+Proof+Luanna&i=stripbooks&ref=nb_sb_noss
Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Love-Proof-Deerbourne-Luanna-Stewart-ebook/dp/B07S2SBP4V
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-proof-luanna-stewart/1131669284?ean=2940161211489

About Luanna Stewart

Luanna Stewart has been creating adventures for her imaginary friends since childhood. At the tender age of twelve she discovered her grandmother’s stash of romance novels, after which all plots had to lead to a happily-ever-after.

Luanna spends her days writing sexy romantic suspense, steamy paranormal romance, and spicy historical romance. When she’s not torturing her heroes and heroines, she’s either in her kitchen baking something delicious, or protecting her garden from the chickens. She lives in Nova Scotia with her incredibly patient husband and two spoiled cats.

Social media links:
Website: http://www.luannastewart.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Luanna_Stewart
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Luanna.Stewart.nau
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/luannastewart/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14104212.Luanna_Stewart
Amazon Author Page: www.amazon.com/author/luanna_stewart

UPDATE: The winner is…Misty Cecil!
*~*~*

My sincere thanks to Delilah for allowing me to return to her wonderful blog and share an update of Diana Cosby’s Romance Readers Build A Habitat For Humanity Home.

A bit of background. Romance readers are AMAZING, and SO is Habitat For Humanity, a charity that I love supporting and volunteering for. Several years ago, I thought why not pair the two and help a deserving family receive a home? And, the Diana Cosby’s Romance Reader’s Build A Habitat For Humanity House fundraiser was born.

I contacted the Habitat For Humanity office in Grayson County, Texas, where I’ve had the honor of helping with several builds and spoke with Laurie Mealy, Executive Director. She embraced the project and was thrilled at the thought of pairing romance readers, who love stories where heroes and heroines overcome challenges to make their dreams come true, with making the dream of home ownership for a deserving family a reality.

Goal: Fund an entire home – $55,000.

I kicked off the challenge by donating $200. As I write this, we’ve raised $18,938, which includes donations from several countries. Romance readers are amazing, and I have complete faith that as the stories they love, they will continue to join together to raise the amount necessary to give a deserving family a home.

How it works: As readers send donations to Habitat for Humanity of Grayson County for the ‘Diana Cosby’s Readers Build A Habitat For Humanity House of Love,’ the total contributions are updated below the house graphic on the upper right side of the homepage. Donations can be sent via PayPal by ‘clicking’ on the house, which takes you to the donation page, or by mailing a check or money order to:

Habitat for Humanity of Grayson County
901 N. Grand Avenue
P.O. Box 2725
Sherman, TX 75091

*Please note on your donation: ‘For the Romance Readers Build A HFH House.’

Again, my sincere thanks to Delilah for allowing me to return to her blog, and another huge thanks to everyone for helping make an incredible difference in a deserving family’s life. For when they walk into a Habitat For Humanity house, it’s more thank mortar and wood, but a place where they can call home.

Contest

Comment for a chance to win! ***ONE winner will be drawn from everyone who posts on my Habitat For Humanity post on Delilah’s blog between May 27th, 2019 – June 2nd, 2019. The winner will receive one of my mugs and a tote.

God bless,

Diana Cosby, International Best-Selling Author
https://www.dianacosby.com/

The Oath Trilogy
MacGruder Brother Series
Forbidden Series: Forbidden Legacy/Forbidden Knight/Forbidden Vow/Forbidden Alliance‒Aug. 6th 2019/Forbidden Realm‒April 4th, 2020

About Diana Cosby

A retired Navy Chief, Diana Cosby is an international bestselling author of Scottish medieval romantic suspense. Books in her award-winning MacGruder Brothers series have been translated in five languages. Diana has spoken at the Library of Congress, Lady Jane’s Salon in NYC, and appeared in Woman’s Day, on USA Today’s romance blog, “Happy Ever After,” MSN.com, Atlantic County Women Magazine, and Texoma Living Magazine.

After her career in the Navy, Diana dove into her passion – writing romance novels. With 34 moves behind her, she was anxious to create characters who reflected the amazing cultures and people she’s met throughout the world. After the release of the bestselling MacGruder Brothers series, The Oath Trilogy, and the first three books of The Forbidden Series, she’s now working on book #4, Forbidden Alliance, of the five-book series, which will be released August 6th, 2019.

Diana looks forward to the years of writing ahead and meeting the amazing people who will share this journey.

Website: www.dianacosby.com
Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/Diana-Cosby-Romance-Author-150109024636/?ref=ts
Goodreads author page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/978803.Diana_Cosby
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Diana-Cosby/e/B003YJ1MR4/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1417447922&sr=8-1

Earlier this week I saw a fantastic photograph documenting that West Point’s class of 2019 graduated 34 African-American women, a record number in the academy’s 217 year-old history. Here it is published by Time magazine: http://time.com/5594906/west-point-graduates-black-female-cadets/. The pride on those young women’s faces put me in mind of Black women who served in the military when black people were considered property. So, on the weekend we officially remember and honor the service of those who “gave the last full measure of devotion,” I thought I’d reflect on African-American women and the military.

Black women served as nurses, laundresses, cooks and spies, the most famous of whom was probably Harriet Tubman. One woman, Cathay Williams, enlisted as a man named William Cathey in 1866 and served for three years with the 38th US Infantry. You can read more about the military service of black women in all US wars here: https://www.womensmemorial.org/history-of-black-women. As I write historicals set during Reconstruction, I thought it appropriate to share a bit about Susie Baker King Taylor, the first African-American army nurse.

Born into slavery in 1848, Susie served as a nurse during the Civil War in the same regiment as her first husband, Edward King. Because she could read and write, she taught blacks and former slaves in addition to her nursing duties. She was never paid for her work. She published a memoir of her experiences, Reminiscences of My Life in Camp in 1902. You can learn more about Susie’s contributions and those of African-Americans in Civil War medicine here: http://www.nlm.nih.gov/bindingwounds.

As an ex-slave and a military veteran, I like to think Susie King Taylor is smiling down from heaven on those 34 African-American female West Point cadets for whom her service paved the way and for whom we will be giving thanks for their service.

One Breath Away

Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. She’s never been courted, cuddled or spooned, and now no man could want her, not when sexual satisfaction comes only with the thought of asphyxiation. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more.

Wealthy, freeborn-Black, Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing the mysteriously exotic woman is his mate foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex.

Hope ignites along with lust until the past threatens to keep them one breath away from love…

Excerpt:

Arousal—fondly remembered and sorely missed—sizzled between Mary Hamilton’s well- rounded thighs. Moisture coated her nether lips and threatened to stoke the sizzle into a blaze. The sensation surprised her, as did the owner of the gaze that lit the flame.

Eban Thurman stood against an opposite wall of the town’s community hall. Although the room was wide as two barns and filled with revelers, neither the distance nor the presence of the crowd lessened the power of his gaze. He studied her with a curiosity that didn’t grope with disdain, but caressed with approval.

With respect.

This kind of appreciation was never given to women as dark and as large as she. Gratitude heated her face.

Gratitude and embarrassment. Her lavender toilet water couldn’t hide the fragrance of arousal. She shuddered with shame then glanced around. Had anyone else detected the odor? All the merrymakers seemed too caught up in the rhythmic fast fiddling and foot-stomping of Safe Haven’s seventh annual Juneteenth Revel to notice her discomfort.

In 1872 Texas, who took note of a black woman who ain’t been asked to wed? Yet Eban’s perusal said not only did he take note, but he liked what he saw.

Buy links:
Wild Rose Press – https://bit.ly/2HOu3qc
Amazon – https://amzn.to/2VT5u0F