Tuesday, November 24, 2015

The Dead of Winter by Julie Solano & Tracy Justice - Blog Tour


 

Title: The Dead of Winter (Seasons of Jefferson #2)

Author: Julie Solano & Tracy Justice

Release Date: Nov 24, 2015

Find on Goodreads

 


 


 

For one group of teens, a cruel, twisted fall changed everything.

 

Relationships. Trust. Destiny. 

 

Now, living with the harsh consequences of their choices, is there hope to mend what fall has left broken? 

 

Find out as the story continues.

 



 


 


 

The weight of a thousand elephants pushes against my shoulders.  I can’t handle it anymore.  I’m dying inside.  I can’t move.  I can’t breathe.  A low wail escapes my searing throat.  Nothing can hold it back.  Slowly sliding down the wall, I tuck myself into a ball, and weep like a baby. 

 

Moments later, I wince at Jenna’s unexpected voice, “Come on! You’ve got to get up now.” 

 

“I can’t go!  Not now!”  I gasp, wiping the residual tears from my eyes. 

 

She continues to tug at me.  “You are not going to sit here and feel sorry for yourself.  You and I both know that you’re not the one to blame for this.  Get your ass up!”

 

I slowly start to inch my way up and off the wall.  I’m so shaky, I teeter back and forth like a toddler learning to balance for the first time. 

 

Looking down at the motionless body is horrifying.  Tears well up and beat at the back of my eyes.  She is barely recognizable.  Her face is pale and bloated.  My GodThis is worse than I imagined.  I want to erase the horrifying image I see lying before me. 

 

 

I shake my head and pull my hand up to wipe the tears that are starting to slip from my eyes.  Get it together. You don’t have much time. 

 



 


 

When Fall Breaks (#1) – Released: March 5, 2015

 

Kaitlyn Woodley is a beautiful, determined, high school senior, who embraces her small-town roots and country life. She’s studious, musically gifted, and headed for a successful career in swimming. Aside from a catty group of jealous girls, who taunt her mercilessly, Kaitlyn’s dreams are well within her reach. That is, until she becomes tangled up with the handsome Pistol Black, a rodeo cowboy, who not only turns every girl’s head in the county, but also turns her perfect world upside down. 



Kaitlyn’s overprotective twin brother and best friends, begin to see signs that make them question Pistol’s subtle control over her. As secrets are unveiled, they intervene to save her from a possible path of destruction. To their surprise, when best friend Brody steps in to protect her, newly discovered feelings complicate an already volatile situation. Soon, everything begins to change. Old feelings die, new feelings emerge, and the once beautiful path they had traveled over summer, begins to alter with the season. 





Will Kaitlyn’s closest friends be able to pull her from the destructive path she’s been led to follow? As the winds of time blast through their lives, the loyalty toward their best friend will remain stronger than ever. They are determined to protect her, even if one of them ends up getting hurt in the hunt for safety. One thing is for certain, none of this close group of friends will be left untouched when fall breaks. 

 


 


 


 


 

 

Julie Solano has lived in far Northern California, nearly her entire life.  She graduated from CSU, Chico, where she majored in Psychology and minored in Child Development.  She later went on to Simpson University where she obtained her multiple subject teaching credential.  Julie enjoys life in the “State of Jefferson” where she lives with her husband and two children.  As a family, they spend their time tromping around the Marble Mountains and Russian Wilder-ness.  They also take pleasure in rafting, skiing, snowmobiling, off-roading, campfires, and living it up in the great outdoors.  When she’s not with her family, Julie spends her days teaching next door to her co-author, fellow prankster, and partner in crime, Tracy.  The most recent of their crazy adventures was to take on the challenge of writing this silly, little novel about life in their neck of the woods.  They hope you have fun reading this story which was inspired by their small town, rural upbringing, and the personalities of their four children.



Born and raised in Northern California, Tracy Justice is a wife, mother, and full-time teacher. She graduated from CSU, Chico with a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Liberal Arts. One of her fondest memories growing up was herding cattle in the Marble Mountains with her family. She enjoys spending time with her family and friends, riding horses, running, hiking, swimming, and of course reading. After some encouragement from Julie, she decided to add “Coauthor” to her ever growing bucket list. She never knew how much fun it would be to write a book with her best friend. She hopes you enjoy reading this story as much as they enjoyed writing it.

 


 


 




Monday, November 23, 2015

Cover reveal / trailer reveal contemporary romance "Nuttycracker Sweet"

nuttycrackerreveal

Book Trailer

[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtCwOu8QT58&feature=youtu.be[/embed]





About the Book

NuttycrackerSweet1-2

Title: Nuttycracker Sweet

Author: Megan O’Russell

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Pointe shoes, tutus, and a snowy road trip with the man she hates. What could possibly go wrong?

The plan was simple. Get to Portland, dance The Nutcracker, and don’t murder your dance partner. And most definitely, do not, under any circumstances, fall in love with him.

A snowy road trip strands Elle Grant in a tiny cabin better suited for serial killings than rehearsals for two professional ballet dancers. With no one but the incredibly talented, excruciatingly handsome, and notoriously terrible Zachary Benson and a few taxidermy woodland creatures for company, Elle’s Christmas plans are officially ruined. Can she and Zach learn to like each other enough to dance together? And can Elle get home without losing her heart to the Christmas Cavalier?


About the Author

Megan O'RussellMegan is thrilled to be working with Fiery Seas Publishing! Her other published works include Young Adult fantasy novels The Tethering and The Siren’s Realm. Megan is also a featured author in the Athena’s Daughters 2 anthology of women in speculative fiction.

Megan is a professional performer who travels the country living out a thousand lives on stage. Her wonderful husband and frequent dance partner is always by her side.

For more information on Megan’s books, you can visit her website at meganorussell.com

Social Media:

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Thursday, November 19, 2015

HOW TO LOSE A BACHELOR by Anna Banks


Enter to Win a 
$100.00 Amazon eGift Card



HOW TO LOSE A BACHELOR
Anna Banks
Releasing Nov 9th, 2015
Entangled: Bliss


When
Rochelle Ransom auditioned for the dating show Luring Love, she had big plans
for winning the prize money to help her favorite charity–and if she won the hot
bachelor's heart, even better. But at the last minute she finds out the hot
bachelor is her ex-boyfriend, Grant Drake. Desperate to keep her distance from
him, she'll do anything–and everything–to get voted off.

Years
ago, Rochelle broke Grant’s heart, and he's out for revenge. There's no way
he'll vote her off.  After all, vengeance
is a dish best served red-hot...and on live television.

When
her hilarious antics to get kicked off the show escalate, Grant’s reminded why
he fell in love with her the first time. Now he isn't sure which might be more
fun... Seeing how far Rochelle is willing to go to get away or how far he will
to keep her forever.

BUY NOW
Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iTunes




a Rafflecopter giveaway






NYT Bestselling YA author of The Syrena
Legacy series: OF POSEIDON (2012) OF TRITON (2013) OF NEPTUNE (2014). Repped by
rockstar Lucy Carson of the Friedrich Agency. I live with my husband and
daughter in the Florida Panhandle. I have a southern accent compared to New
Yorkers, and I enjoy food cooked with real fat. I can't walk in high heels, but
I'm very good at holding still in them. If you put chocolate in front of me,
you must not have wanted it in the first place.

One Tempting Proposal: An Accidental Heirs Novel by Christy Carlyle - Blog Tour + Giveaway


 
One Tempting Proposal

An Accidental Heirs Novel

Christy Carlyle

 


Book Information:

Genre: Historical Romance

Publisher: Avon Impulse

On-Sale: 11/17/2015 |

ISBN: 9780062428011

 

Synopsis

Becoming engaged? Simple. Resisting temptation? Impossible

Sebastian Fennick, the newest Duke of Wrexford, prefers the straightforwardness of mathematics to romantic nonsense. When he meets Lady Katherine Adderly at the first ball of the season, he finds her as alluring as she is disagreeable. His title may now require him to marry, but Sebastian can’t think of anyone less fit to be his wife, even if he can’t get her out of his mind.

After five seasons of snubbing suitors and making small talk, Lady Kitty has seen all the ton has to offer…and she’s not impressed. But when Kitty’s overbearing father demands she must marry before her beloved younger sister can, she proposes a plan to the handsome duke. Kitty’s schemes always seem to backfire, but she knows this one can’t go wrong. After all, she’s not the least bit tempted by Sebastian, is she?

 

HarperCollins    Amazon    BN

Google Play     iBooks

Add it On Goodreads

 

Chapter 2

Cambridgeshire, May, 1891

 

Slashing the air with a sword was doing nothing to improve Sebastian Fennick’s mood. As he thrust, the needle-thin foil bending and arching through the air and sending tingling reverberations along his hand, he glared across at his opponent, though he doubted she could see any better than he could from behind the tight mesh of her fencing mask.

His sister parried before offering a spot-on riposte of her own, her foil bowing in a perfect semicircle as she struck him.

“Are you making any sort of effort at all?”

Seb bit back the reply burning the tip of his tongue. Fencing was the least of his concerns. In the last month he’d learned of the death of a cousin he’d barely known and inherited the responsibility for one dukedom, three thousand acres of land, hundreds of tenants, twenty-eight staff members, one London residence, and a country house with so many rooms, he was still counting. He could find no competitive pleasure in wielding a lightweight foil when his mind brimmed with repairs, meetings, investments, and invitations to social events that spanned the rest of the calendar year.

And all of it was nothing to the bit of paper in his waistcoat pocket, separated by two layers of fabric from the scar on his chest, dual reminders of what a fool he’d been, how one woman’s lies nearly ended his life.

He wouldn’t open her letter. Instead, he’d take pleasure in burning the damn thing.

Never again. Never would he allow himself to be manipulated as he had been in the past. He had to put the past from his mind altogether.

Fencing wasn’t doing the trick. Give him a proper sword and let him dash it against a tree trunk. Better yet, give him a dragon to slay. That might do quite nicely, but this dance of lunges and feints only made his irritation bubble over.

Yet his sister didn’t deserve his ire, and he’d no wish to stifle her enthusiasm for the newest of her myriad interests.

“I fear fencing and I do not suit, Pippa.” As she returned to en garde position, preparing for another strike, Seb hastened to add, “Nor shall we ever.”

Pippa sagged in disappointment when he reached up to remove his fencing mask. “I’d hoped you might find it invigorating. A pleasant challenge.”

In truth, his mathematical mind found the precision of the sport appealing, and the physical exertion was refreshing. But when he’d inherited the dukedom of Wrexford, Seb left his mathematics career at Cambridge behind. And weren’t there a dozen tasks he should be attending to rather than waving a flexible bit of steel about at his sister?

“Invigorating, yes. Challenging, absolutely. Pleasant? No.”

When he began removing his gloves and unbuttoning the fencing jacket Pippa insisted he purchase, she raised a hand to stop him.

“Wait. We must do this properly.” She approached and offered him her hand as if they were merely fellow sportsmen rather than siblings. “Politeness is an essential element of fencing.”

Seb cleared his throat, infused his baritone with gravitas, and shook his younger sister’s hand. “Well done, Miss Fennick.”

She’d tucked her fencing mask under her sword arm and met his gaze with eyes the same unique shade as their father’s. Along with her dark hair and whiskey brown eyes, Pippa had inherited their patriarch’s love for mathematics and sporting activity of every kind.

“Fine effort, Your Grace.” And father’s compassion too, apparently.

Pippa smiled at him, her disappointment well-hidden or forgotten, and Seb returned the expression. Then her words, the sound of his honorific at the end, settled in his mind. Your Grace. It still sounded odd to his ears.

Seb and his sister had been raised for academic pursuits, children of a mathematician father and a mother with as many accomplishments as her daughter now boasted. Formality, titles, rules—none of it came naturally. The title of Duke of Wrexford had passed to him, but it still rankled and itched, as ill-fitting as the imprisoning fencing mask he’d been relieved to remove.

As they exited the corner of the second ballroom Pippa had set out as her fencing strip, she turned one of her inquisitive glances on him.

“Perhaps you’d prefer boxing, like Grandfather.” Their grandfather had been as well known for his love of pugilism as his architectural designs, and had reputedly been one of Gentleman Jackson’s best pupils.

Taller and broader than many of his classmates, Seb had engaged in his own share of scuffles in youth, and he’d been tempted to settle a few gentlemanly disagreements with his fists, but he never enjoyed fighting with his body as much as sparring with his intellect. Reason. Logic. Those were the weapons a man should bring to a dispute.

“Unless you’re like Oliver and can’t abide the sight of blood.”

It seemed his sister still sparred. Standing on the threshold of Sebastian’s study, Oliver Treadwell lifted his hands, settled them on his hips, and heaved a frustrated sigh.

“I did consider medical school, Pip. I can bear the sight of blood better than most.” Ollie’s eyes widened as he scanned the two of them. “What in heaven’s name is that awful getup you two are wearing?”

Seb didn’t know if it was his lack of enthusiasm for fencing or Ollie’s jibe about their costumes that set her off, but the shock of seeing Pippa lift her foil, breaking a key point of protocol she’d been quite insistent upon—“Never lift a sword when your opponent is unmasked”—blunted the amusement of watching Ollie rear back like a frightened pony.

“Fencing costumes,” she explained through clenched teeth. “I tried instructing Sebastian, though he says the sport doesn’t suit him.” She hadn’t actually touched Ollie with the tip of her foil and quickly lowered it to her side, but the movement failed to ease the tension between them.

Turning back to Seb, she forced an even expression. “I’ll go up and change for luncheon.” She offered Ollie a curt nod as she passed him, her wide fencing skirt fluttering around her ankles. At the door, she grasped the frame and turned back. “And don’t call me Pip. No one calls me that anymore.”

“Goodness. When did she begin loathing me?” Ollie watched the doorway where Pippa exited as if she might reappear to answer his query. “Women are terribly inscrutable, aren’t they?”

Seb thought the entire matter disturbingly clear, but he suspected Pippa would deny her infatuation with Oliver as heatedly as Ollie would argue against the claim. They’d been friends since childhood, and Ollie had been an unofficial member of the Fennick family from the day he’d lost his parents at twelve years old. Seb wasn’t certain when Pippa began viewing Ollie less as a brotherly friend and more as a man worthy of her admiration.

As much as he loved him, Seb secretly prayed his sister’s interest in the young buck would wane. Treadwell had never been the steadiest of fellows, particularly when it came to matters of the heart, and Seb would never allow anyone to hurt Pippa.

“Welcome to Roxbury.” He practiced the words as he spoke them, hoping the oddness of playing host in another man’s home would eventually diminish.

“Thank you. It is grand, is it not? Had you ever visited before?”

“Once, as a young child. I expected it to be less imposing when I saw it again as a man.” It hadn’t been. Not a whit. Upon arriving thirty days prior, he’d stood on the threshold a moment with his mouth agape before taking a step inside.

Seb caught Ollie staring at the ceiling, an extraordinary web of plastered fan-vaulting meant to echo the design in the nave of an abbey the late duke had visited in Bath. Every aspect of Roxbury had been designed with care, and yet to match the whims of each successive duke and duchess. Somehow its hodgepodge of architectural styles blended into a harmonious and impressive whole.

“You mentioned an urgent matter. Trouble in London?” A few years older than his friend, Seb worried about Ollie with the same ever-present paternal concern he felt for his sister.

After trying his hand at philosophy, chemistry, and medicine, Ollie had decided to pursue law and currently studied at the Inner Temple with high hopes of being called to the bar and becoming a barrister within the year.

“No, all is well, but those words don’t begin to describe my bliss.”

Bowing his head, Sebastian closed his eyes a moment and drew in a long breath, expanding his chest as far as the confines of his fencing jacket would allow. It had to be a woman. Another woman. Seb had never known a man as eager to be enamored. Unfortunately, the mysteries of love couldn’t be bound within the elegance of a mathematical equation. If they could, Ollie’s equation would be a simple one. Woman plus beauty equals infatuation. If Ollie’s interest in this woman or that ever bloomed into constancy, Seb could rally a bit happiness for his friend.

Constancy. An image of black hair came to mind with a piercing pain above his brow. How could he advocate that Ollie learn constancy when his own stubborn heart brought him nothing but misery?

“Tell me about her.”

Ollie’s face lit with pleasure. “She’s an angel.”

The last had been “a goddess” and Seb mentally calculated where each designation might rank in the heavenly hierarchy.

“With golden hair and sapphire eyes …” Ollie’s loves were always described in the same terms one might use when speaking of a precious relic Mr. Petrie had dug up in Egypt, each of them carved in alabaster, gilded, and bejeweled.

“Slow down, Ollie. Let’s start with her name.”

“Hattie. Harriet, though she says she dislikes Harriet. I think it’s lovely. Isn’t it a beautiful name, really?”

Too preoccupied with unbuttoning himself from his fencing gear, Sebastian didn’t bother offering a response. Ollie rarely had any trouble rambling on without acknowledgment.

“She’s the daughter of a marquess. Clayborne. Perhaps you know him.”

Seb arched both brows and Ollie smiled. “Yes, I know. You’ve only been a duke for the space of a month. Don’t they introduce you to all of the other aristocrats straight away, then?”

A chuckle rumbled up in Seb’s chest, and for a moment the burdens that had piled up since the last duke’s passing slipped away. He laughed with Ollie as they had when they were simpler men, younger, less distracted with love or responsibilities. Seb felt lighter, and he held a smile so long his cheeks began to ache before the laughter ebbed and he addressed the serious matter of Oliver’s pursuit of a marquess’s daughter.

“I think the better question is whether you’ve met Harriet’s father. What are your intentions toward this young woman?”

Ollie ducked his chin and deflated into a chair. “Goodness, Bash, you sound a bit like you’re Hattie’s father.”

Only Ollie called him Bash, claiming he’d earned it for defending him in a fight with a particularly truculent classmate. The nickname reminded him of all their shared battles as children, but if Ollie thought its use would soften him or make him retreat, he was wrong. Ollie needed someone to challenge him, to curb his tendency to rush in without considering the consequences. If he lost interest in this young woman as he had with all the others, a breach-of-promise suit brought by a marquess could ruin Ollie’s burgeoning legal career.

“I intend to marry her.”

“May I ask how long you’ve been acquainted with the young lady?” Mercy, he did sound like a father. As the eldest, he’d always led the way, and with the loss of their parents, Seb had taken on a parental role with his sister too. Pippa might wish to marry one day, and it was his duty to ensure any prospective groom wasn’t a complete and utter reprobate.

“Not all of us fall in love with our childhood friend.” The barb had no doubt been meant to bring Seb’s past heartbreak to mind, but Seb thought of Pippa. Thankfully, she hadn’t heard Ollie’s declaration.

“Indeed. I would merely advise you to take more time and court Lord Clayborne’s daughter properly. Her father will expect no less.”

Even with a properly drawn-out courtship, a marquess would be unlikely to allow his daughter to marry a man who’d yet to become a barrister and may not succeed once he had.

“I must offer for her now. Soon. She’s coming out this season, and I couldn’t bear for another man to snatch her up.”

“You make her sound like a filly at market.”

“Will you come to London and meet her? I know you’ll approve of the match once you’ve met her.”

Seb had already given into the necessity of spending the season in London at Wrexford House. Pippa had no interest in anything in London aside from the Reading Room at the British Museum, but their aristocratic aunt, Lady Stamford, insisted he give his sister a proper coming out. She’d also reminded him that a new duke should meet and be met by others in their slice of society.

“You hardly need my approval, Ollie.”

“I need more than that.”

If he meant money, Seb could help. Cousin Geoffrey and his steward maintained the estate well over the years, investing wisely and spending with restraint. Sebastian had met with the estate’s steward once since arriving at Roxbury and emphasized his desire to match his predecessor’s good fiscal sense.

“We should discuss a settlement of some kind.”

Waving away Seb’s words, Ollie stood and strode to the window, looking out on one of Roxbury’s gardens, perfectly manicured and daubed with color by the first blooms of spring.

Oliver Treadwell had never been a hard man to read. Seb knew him to be intelligent, but he used none of his cleverness for artifice. A changeable man, Ollie blew hot and cold with his passions, but he expressed himself honestly. Now Seb sensed something more. Another emotion undercut the giddiness he’d expressed about his most recent heart’s desire.

His friend seemed to fall into contemplation of the scenery and Sebastian stood to approach, curious about what had drawn Ollie’s attention. The sound of Ollie’s voice stopped him short, the timbre strangely plaintive, almost childlike.

“She says her father won’t allow her to marry until her older sister does. Some strange rule he’s devised to make Harriet miserable.”

It sounded like an unreasonable expectation to Sebastian. At two and twenty, Pippa found contentment in pursuing her studies and political causes. She’d indicated no desire to take any man’s name. Never mind the way she looked at Oliver. If they had a younger sister, the girl might have a long wait to wed if some ridiculous rule required Pippa to do so first. Then again, not all women were as reticent to marry as Pippa.

“Does this elder sister have any prospects?”

Ollie’s whole body jolted at Seb’s question and he turned on him, smile wide, blue eyes glittering.

“She has more suitors than she can manage, but she’s not easily snared. I assure you she’s just as beautiful as Hattie, with golden hair …”

“Yes, yes. Eyes of emerald or sapphire or amethyst.”

Oliver tugged on his ear, a frown marring his enthusiastic expression. “Well, she is lovely. Truly. You should meet her.”

A sickening heaviness sank in his gut at the realization of Oliver’s real purpose for their urgent meeting.

“You’re very determined to convince me, Oliver.”

Ollie sighed wearily, a long gusty exhale, before sinking down into a chair again. “You only call me Oliver when you’re cross. Won’t you hear me out?”

Sebastian had a habit of counting. Assigning numbers to the objects and incidents in his life gave him a satisfying sense of order and control. Not quite as much satisfaction as conquering a maddening equation, but enough to make the incidents he couldn’t control—like the small matter of inheriting a title and a home large enough to house a hundred—more bearable.

He wished he’d counted how many times he’d heard those same words—“Won’t you hear me out?”—from Ollie. Whatever the number, it would certainly be high enough to warn him off listening to the man’s mad schemes again.

“All right, Ollie. Have it out then.”

“Do you never consider finding yourself a wife?”

“No.”

“You must.”

“Must I? Why? I have quite enough to occupy me.”

Ollie took on a pensive air and squinted his left eye. “The estate seems to be in good order, and you’ve given up your post at the university. Pippa has her own pursuits.” He glanced again at the high ceiling over their heads. “Won’t you be lonely in these grand, empty rooms, Bash?”

Sentiment? That was how Ollie meant to convince him? Seb had put away sentimentality ten years before, dividing off that part of himself so that he could move forward with the rest of his life. If its power still held any sway, he would have opened the letter in his waistcoat pocket the day it arrived.

“I will manage, Ollie.”

And how would a woman solve anything? In Seb’s experience, women either wreaked havoc on a man’s life, or filled it with noise and color and clever quips, like his mother and sister. Either option would allay loneliness, but he did not suffer from that affliction. Sentimental men were lonely. Not him. Even if he did live in a house with ceilings so tall his voice echoed when he chattered to himself.

He narrowed his eyes at Ollie, and his friend sat up in his chair, squared his shoulders, and tipped his chin to stare at Seb directly.

“She’s the eldest daughter of a marquess, Bash, and much more aware of the rules of etiquette among the wealthy and titled than you are.”

“Then we won’t have much in common.”

Ollie groaned. “She would be a fine partner, a formidable ally in this new life you’ve taken on.”

“No.”

Denial came easily, and he denounced Ollie’s mad implication that the two of them should marry sisters from the same family. But reason, that damnable voice in his head that sounded like his father, contradicted him.

At two and thirty, he’d reached an age for matrimony, and with inherited property and a title came the duty to produce an heir. No one wanted Roxbury and the Wrexford dukedom to pass to another distant cousin. If he had any doubts about his need for a wife, he was surrounded by women who’d happily remind him. His aunt, Lady Stamford, had sent a letter he’d found waiting for him the day he’d arrived at Roxbury suggesting that marriage was as much his duty as managing the estate. Pippa also dropped hints now and then that having a sister-in-law would be very nice indeed.

Ollie had yet to multiply the bride-taking encouragement, but he was making a fine effort at rectifying the oversight.

“Acquiring a dukedom is a vast undertaking.” Ollie stretched out his arms wide to emphasize the vastness of it all. “Why not have a lovely woman by your side in such an endeavor?”

“I didn’t acquire it, Oliver. It passed to me.” He loathed his habit of stating the obvious.

A lovely woman by his side. The notion brought a pang, equal parts stifled desire and memory-soaked dread. He’d imagined it once, making plans and envisioning the life he’d create with the woman he loved. But that was all sentiment and it had been smashed, its pieces left in the past. Now practicality dictated his choices. He spared emotion only for his family, for Pippa and Ollie.

Ollie watched him like a convicted man awaiting his sentence.

His friend’s practical argument held some appeal. A marquess’s daughter would know how to navigate the social whirl, and Seb liked the notion of not devoting all of his own energy to tackling that challenge. He might even find a moment to spare for mathematics, rather than having to forfeit his life’s work entirely to take on the duties of a dukedom.

And it would give Ollie a chance at happiness. Perhaps this younger daughter of Lord Clayborne’s would be the woman to inspire constancy in Ollie, and Seb might assist his friend to achieve the family and stability he’d lost in childhood.

Seb spoke on an exhaled sigh. “I suppose I do need a wife.” And there he went stating the obvious again.

Oliver turned into a ten-year-old boy before his eyes, as giddy as a pup. If the man had a tail, he’d be wagging it furiously. He jumped up and reached out to clasp Seb on the shoulder.

“Just meet Lady Katherine, Seb. See if you suit. That’s all I ask.” It wasn’t quite all he asked, but Seb had learned the futility of quibbling with a giddy Oliver.

A marquess’s daughter? Lady Katherine sounded like just the sort of woman a duke should seek to marry. Seb could contemplate marriage as a practical matter, but nothing more.

Would he ever feel more?

He hadn’t allowed himself an ounce of interest in a woman in ten years, not in a lush feminine figure, nor in a pair of fine eyes, not even in the heady mix of a woman’s unique scent under the notes of some floral essence.

“I think you’ll enjoy London during the season.” Ollie couldn’t manage sincerity when uttering the declaration. His mouth quivered and he blinked one eye as if he’d just caught an irritating bit of dust.

Seb doubted he’d enjoy London during the crush of the social season. As a Cambridge man raised in a modest home in the university’s shadow, he’d enjoyed occasional jaunts to London but had always been content to return to his studies. As he opened his mouth to say as much to Ollie, Pippa strode into the room and drew their attention to the doorway.

She’d changed into one of the day dresses their aunt insisted she choose for the upcoming season, though Pippa signaled her disdain for the flouncy yellow creation by swiping down the ruffles that kept popping up on her chest and around her shoulders.

“Luncheon is laid in the morning room. Are you joining us, Oliver?”

Ollie stared wide-eyed at Pippa a moment and then turned to Seb.

“We’re almost finished here,” Seb assured her. “Ollie and I will join you momentarily.”

She nodded but offered the still speechless Ollie a sharp glance before departing.

After a moment, Ollie found his voice. “I’ve never seen her so …”

“Irritated?”

“Feminine.”

Seb took a turn glaring at Ollie. The man had just been thrilled at the prospect of a match with Lady Harriet. He had no business noticing Pippa’s femininity, especially after failing to do so for over a dozen years.

“She chose a few new dresses.” Seb cleared his throat to draw Ollie’s attention.

“It’s odd,” Ollie said, his face still pinched in confusion. “I’ve known Pippa most of my life and never truly thought of her as a woman.”

His friend’s words put Seb’s mind at ease, but he suspected Pippa wouldn’t find them nearly as heartening.

“Ollie, let’s return to the matter at hand.”

“Yes, of course.” Ollie rubbed his hands together and grinned, the matter of Pippa quickly forgotten. “Will you come to the Clayborne ball and meet Lady Katherine?”

“I will.” Meeting the woman seemed a simple prospect. Practical. Reasonable. A perfectly logical decision in the circumstances.

“If you’re still planning on presenting Pippa this season, by all means, bring her along too,” Ollie added. “Why leave her to ramble this house alone?”

Pippa preferred to spend her days at Cambridge where she’d been studying mathematics for much of the previous year. Yet Seb felt the pull of his aunt’s assertion. His sister should have a London season, or at least spend some time among London society. He wished to open as many doors for Pippa as he could. Give her choices and options. If his title meant his sister might be more comfortably settled in life, all the better.

“She’s not convinced of the appeal of a London season.” Seb worried neither of them was equipped for it either. Gowns and finely tailored clothing aside, they didn’t possess the aristocratic polish others would expect of a duke and his sister.

Ever undaunted, Ollie grinned. “Then you must convince her.”

Seb lifted his gaze to the ceiling, following the tracery, lines in perfect symmetry, equidistant and equal in length, forming a perfect whole. The geometric beauty of the design melted a bit of the tension in his shoulders. Still, he doubted the propriety of allowing his sister to attend a ball when she’d not yet formally come out. And, most importantly, he feared Pippa was unprepared for the sort of attention she would encounter in London.

Pippa unprepared? She’d fence him into a corner for even entertaining the notion.

“Very well. We’ll both attend, but I make no promises regarding Lady Katherine.”

He’d accept the invitation in order to give Pippa her first glimpse of a proper London ball, meet this marquess’s daughter, and do what he could to assist Ollie’s cause. But marrying Lady Katherine was another matter entirely. He’d only ever intended to marry one woman and that had gone so spectacularly pear-shaped, he wasn’t certain he could bring himself to propose ever again.

 

About the Author:
 

Fueled by Pacific Northwest coffee and inspired by multiple viewings of every British costume drama she can get her hands on, Christy Carlyle writes sensual historical romance set in the Victorian era. She loves heroes who struggle against all odds and heroines who are ahead of their time. A former teacher with a degree in history, she finds there’s nothing better than being able to combine her love of the past with a die-hard belief in happy endings.

 


 


 


 


 


 

 

Tour giveaway

3 ebook copies of Book 1, One Scandalous Kiss


 

 

Monday, November 16, 2015

To the Breaking Pointe by Cindy McDonald - Blog Tour

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BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – To the Breaking Pointe
SERIES – First Force Series Book #2
AUTHOR – Cindy McDonald
GENRE – romantic suspense, romance, military romance, black ops
PUBLICATION DATE – September 13, 2014
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 370 pages
PUBLISHER – McWriter Books
COVER ARTIST – Dawne Dominique




BOOK SYNOPSIS

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First Force operative, Grant Ketchum, let the ballerina of his dreams dance right out of his life. Silja Ramsay returned to Russia, to become the principal dancer for the Novikov Ballet Company.

Natalia Novikov has a dark secret: her ballet company is broke. Natalia forces her dancers to prostitute themselves to financial contributors at exclusive after-show parties. Silja has been kept in the dark about the parties—until an American financier offers to bail the failing ballet company out. His prerequisite: Silja must become his personal companion and fulfill his every desire. Against her will, Silja is taken to the American's mansion, but before she goes she manages to send a text to the only man who can save her, Grant: HELP!

Now Grant is on a mission to rescue his ballerina from this powerful man's subjugation. If they survive, will he let her chasse out of his life again?




BUY & TBR LINKS





EXCERPT

Yekaterinburg, Russia:
A crowd had gathered in the reception room in the basement of the Mockba Theatre. The room wasn’t particularly large, yet it was quite elegant with red velvet swags hung in the archways, gilded crown moldings, and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. A bar was set up in one corner while a violinist played softly in another. 
“It is ridiculous! An outrage! Dominik Potrovic should be included in the auction!” Ivan Belsky bit out in Russian. “A choice, that is what the contributors’ should have! We spend a lot of money at these parties!” 
Natalia waved at the bartender for a glass of wine. “I have already explained this to you, Ivan. Dominik is in a relationship with our choreographer, Edvar. He is not available for the auctions.” 
“Several of the dancers are married! Yet here they are—to be auctioned as the rest. I understand why Silja Ramsay is not present—she is an American, but there is not excuse for Dominik!” 
“I do not understand. You always choose from the box filled with the ballerina’s shoes, not the male dancers. So why do you fuss?” 
“I enjoy the girls very much. But Dominik—” 
“If you are not happy with our selection of dancers, pull your bid and be on your way.”
Red-faced with frustration, Belsky let out a loud harrumph, and then stalked into the party just as Ballard Crafton rounded the corner. 
“Where is Silja?” he asked Natalia as he searched through the party guests. The room was filled with men, a few older women, and most of the dancers from the Novikov Ballet Company. Only one dancer in particular was missing... Silja Ramsay. 
“As always, there are plenty of lovely ballerinas here to choose from this evening, Ballard. Forget Silja for now. I will keep working to make her come around. 
“No. I am tired of spending time with ballerinas that I don’t want. I only fantasize that she is Silja. I want Silja!” Ballard said.



CHARACTER BIOS

Grant Ketchum is one hot First Force operative. Cover model, Stuart Tomlinson from the UK is the very picture of the overtly handsome ex-marine. Super muscular with sandy hair, and intense bedroom eyes that any woman would be mesmerized by—he’s definitely your next romantic suspense book boyfriend. Grant is out to rescue his lost ballerina from a powerful man’s subjugation, and if they survive, will she dance out of his life again? It’s a risk he’s willing to take! Are you ready for the thrill ride?

Silja (Sil-ya) Ramsay: After losing her American adoptive parents in a car accident, this tall slender golden brunette ballerina decided to follow her dreams of becoming a premiere dancer by accepting a position at the Novikov Ballet Company in her birthplace, Russia. It was no easy decision. Silja also had to leave the man she loved, Grant Ketchum. For the past five years, she kept communication with him scarce—was it because she didn’t love him anymore or was it because she couldn’t bear to think about what she’d left behind. Now she needs him more than ever!




AUTHOR BIO

Into the Crossfire - Author Photo

For twenty-six years Cindy’s life whirled around a song and a dance. She was a professional dancer/choreographer for most of her adult life and never gave much thought to a writing career until 2005. She often notes: Don’t ask me what happened, but suddenly I felt drawn to my computer to write about things that I have experienced with my husband’s Thoroughbreds and happenings at the racetrack — she muses: they are greatly exaggerated upon of course—I’ve never been murdered. Viola! Cindy’s first book series, Unbridled, was born. Currently there are five books in the series.

Cindy is a huge fan of romantic suspense series’, especially with a military ops theme. Although she isn’t one to make New Year’s resolutions, on New Year’s Day 2013 she made a commitment to write one. Most recently, Secret Cravings Publishing has picked up her First Force Series. Currently available: Into the Crossfire, and Book #2, To the Breaking Pointe. 2016 will bring Book #3, Into the Dark and Book #4, To the Brink.

People are always asking Cindy: Do you miss dance? With a bitter sweet smile on her lips she tells them: Sometimes I do. I miss my students. I miss choreographing musicals, but I love writing my books, and I love sharing them with my readers.

Cindy resides on her forty-five acre horse farm with her husband, Bill, and her Cocker Spaniel, Allister, near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKS




GIVEAWAY PRIZES

3 kindle copies of To the Breaking Pointe


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