Thursday, December 11, 2014

Currier & Ives Christmas Memories

One of my favorite things about Christmas is how we seem to embrace the past--whether it's reliving old times, singing familiar carols, or reminiscing about old ornaments. Each year when I see a Currier & Ives print, I'm immediately thrown back to days of my childhood: to visiting my granny's home in the Ouachita Mountains of Arkansas, her wood stove, outhouse, farm, and those deep snows on the ground.

Currier & Ives made scenes from all over the United States. While researching steamboats, I ran across this lovely old print. To me, it looks like a chilly winter night!

I've collected several Currier & Ives dishes that I display. This plate always reminded me of my Granny's house when I first caught sight of it at the end of her road.

Do you have any "Currier & Ives" memories? Or just like their prints in general?

Tuesday, December 09, 2014

Guest Post: Burnin' Up Memphis by Delilah Devlin

I'm delighted to share a "smokin' hot" excerpt today from the latest book by my amazing friend, Delilah Devlin!

Burnin’ Up Memphis by Delilah Devlin

She’s the one fire he may not be able to control.

Firehouse 69, Book 1

When a roof collapse kills his best friend and his girlfriend clears out his apartment and leaves, firefighter John Cooper knows he shouldn’t sit alone in his empty apartment. But when he accepts an invitation to Club LaForge, his feet get colder with every step he takes inside.

The sights, sounds and smells of the BDSM club make him sweat, and not because he’s turned off. Yet he can’t bring himself to admit—to himself, or to his luscious guide, Moira—that this lifestyle might just be what he needs.

An experienced BDSM trainer, Moira senses that Coop is not only a Dom in the making, but exactly what she’s been looking for. A man to be her lover and her Dom. The only problem is, Coop isn’t looking for anything complicated.

Moira’s willing to start slow and easy, but even once there’s enough trust to bring Coop into her world—and to her Dom—she’s still worried he’ll look for the nearest exit.

Warning: Do you smell smoke? Don’t worry, it’s just a hot and sexy firefighter getting down and dirty. Contains BDSM scenes, ropes, floggers, some spanking, some sharing, and some five-alarm sex.

Buy here:  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Samhain | Kobo | iTunes 


One of the crappiest shifts of firefighter John “Coop” Cooper’s life took another nosedive when his lieutenant caught him before he’d even had a chance to drop his turnout gear after their latest run. With sooty sweat stinging his eyes and his suspenders half-up half-down, he sighed as the LT curled his fingers, beckoning him over.
Coop knew exactly what this was about, and despite his fatigue, his mind zipped through all the possible excuses he could muster to escape.
“You’re the last one,” Lieutenant Knox Triplett said, his face hard and his hazel gaze narrowing on Coop.
Used to be that Coop cared about pleasing Knox. He’d strove to be first to his gear and into the truck, first in the door of a burning building, and was careful never to fuck up  a room-to-room search. He’d cared about being the best firefighter he could be. But lately, he’d just been showing up, going through the motions. Doing what he had to do to get through the shift.
Knox had been patient, his gazes merciful and sympathetic. But it looked as though he’d reached the end of his tether so far as Coop was concerned.
Coop wished he could feel anger or shame. But all he could muster was irritation. He wanted out of the station. The shift was nearly over and he had to dodge this bullet one more time. “The last one? You sure about that?” Coop asked, not bothering to look Knox in the eye.
Knox tapped his clipboard. “I asked for a hundred percent cooperation with the internal investigation, with the NIOSH assholes. Don’t know what it is with you guys. This should be the easy part. The counselor’s here to help you.”
Coop raked a hand through his hair. “That’s the point, LT. I don’t need his help. I’m tired of talking about it.”
A muscle tensed in the side of the LT’s jaw. “Let me make this simple. If you don’t make time to see Russell, I’m putting you on suspension.”
Coop cussed under his breath. By Knox’s stern tone, Coop knew the LT wasn’t bluffing. “Where is he?” he grumbled.
“The conference room. Don’t bother showering. No more stalling.” Finally, his stern expression eased. “Just get it over with, Coop. You’re not the only one who lost a friend. We’re here for you.” He reached out and awkwardly patted Coop’s shoulder and then tilted his head toward the corridor. Compassion and firmness. The LT never slacked. He took his job seriously.
“Let me drop my gear,” Coop mumbled. He turned back to the truck and took his sweet time stripping off his boots and trousers.
“Don’t worry about cleaning it,” Noah, the engine driver, said as he came around the side of the vehicle. “I’ve got you covered. No need to piss the LT off any further.”
How many people had heard their conversation? Coop didn’t bother looking around to see. He nodded and turned toward the corridor.
“Hey,” Noah called after him. “Some of the guys are going with Billy to his club tonight. Why not join us?”
Noah meant well. All the men did. They’d tiptoed around him, given him time and space to handle his grief. But Coop had turned down every invitation for drinks and even for Saturday football . “Think I’ll pass,” he muttered. He fisted his hands at his sides and strode down the corridor.
Farley Russell was seated at the table in the conference room, a pen in hand and a folder opened in front of him. The bristles of his buzz cut shone gold in the fluorescent light. He glanced up when Coop entered the room and gave him a half-smile when he slumped into a chair. “We’ll make this quick. Unless you need to talk.”
Coop shook his head and tightened his lips.
“How you sleeping, Coop?”
“Just fine.” If waking up in a cold sweat night after night was fine.
Russell gave a soft snort and his lips twisted. “Knox says you haven’t been performing up to your previous level. That you seem to be operating on automatic.”
Coop shifted on his chair and strummed his fingers on the tabletop . He couldn’t make his impatience any clearer. “I haven’t fucked up.”
“Yet.” Russell made some notes in the folder and then closed it and clasped his hands together, resting them atop the sheaf of notes. “Truitt was your friend,” he said carefully and without any emotion.
Something Coop appreciated. He was done with the looks and the soft voices. He grunted. Danny Truitt had been more than just a friend. The two of them had attended high school together, had applied and been accepted to the same firefighter academy class. They’d jockeyed hard to win spots in the same firehouse, which had taken a couple of years, and then they’d spent eight years with the same crew in Firehouse 69.
Their bunks had been side-by-side. Their lockers too. They’d double-dated. Coop had stood as Danny’s best man when he’d married Melody.
And it had been Coop who had hoisted up Danny’s body from the wreckage of the roof that had collapsed when they’d vented it during an apartment fire.
The moment he’d gotten Danny to the ground and pushed off his SCBA mask was forever imprinted on his mind. Danny’s irrepressible grin, even in the worst circumstances, had been forever wiped away.
“I’ve read the report. Talked to the other firefighters who worked that fire. You were in the middle of it, a step away from joining Danny in that hole. You can’t blame yourself. You could just as easily have died.”
And he should have. Coop’s fingers curled tightly. Danny had a wife and a kid on the way. Other than Danny and his buddies in the firehouse, no one would have missed Coop. No one depended on him.
“You’ve been hard to nail into a chair.” Russell’s smile was thin, but his brown eyes were steady, probing. He’d been a firefighter until he’d been sidelined with a back injury. He knew what it was like in the firehouse. The fact he’d had some college gave him a new lease. Now he helped other firefighters in crisis.
All Coop had was this job. This house. He had no family. His mother died when he was still in diapers, and his dad had died of cancer during Coop’s senior year of high school. And now, he’d lost his best friend. But because he was part of this house, he was holding it together—if just barely. Even though he knew Russell wasn’t some psychologist sitting in an ivory tower, studying him like he was a case and not a man, he still didn’t feel like spilling his guts. “I’m handling it,” he said, his voice a growl, something he didn’t intend, but he didn’t really care if he hurt Russell’s feelings. He didn’t want to be here. How much clearer could he make that fact known?
Russell sighed. “Look, I won’t keep you. I’ll check you off the list.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, which he handed to Coop. “You’ve met your LT’s requirements, but if you ever need to talk—doesn’t have to be about the fire or Danny Truitt—I’m here.”
Reluctantly, Coop took it. He curved his hand around it, bending it. He’d toss it when he left. No need to be ruder than he’d already been. Russell just wanted to help.
But Coop didn’t want help. Didn’t deserve it. “We done?”
Russell nodded, and Coop shot up out of the chair. He checked himself at the door and gave the other man a nod before escaping. Once outside the room, he breathed deeply. A shower. Then home. Maybe Christa would be happy enough seeing him to give him a quick fuck before he slept for a day.
But when he entered the locker room, his footsteps became leaden again, his shoulders weighed down. He approached his locker, trying not to look to the right. A splotch of bright white snagged his gaze. The stenciled plate with the name Truitt etched across it was gone, replaced by a white slash of tape, the name Harris printed in Magic Marker.
Coop sucked in a deep breath and then exploded in anger, his closed fist slamming against the door and leaving a concave dent. Dammit, there were other empty lockers that weren’t Danny’s. What the fuck?
“Better to rip it off like a Band-Aid,” came Knox’s voice from the doorway, sounding hollow in the small room. “We have a replacement. He’ll be here Monday morning.”
Coop didn’t bother turning. With his shoulders stiff, he listened as the LT’s footsteps faded away before he opened his own locker.
A fuck, maybe two. Maybe he’d get shitfaced, although inwardly he cringed at the memory of the last conversation he’d had with Christa. He’d been drunk, and remembered she’d threatened to leave him. They’d been together for three years on and off, and the sex was still great.
“You never talk to me.”
So what was new? They’d landed in bed the first night they’d met. Conversation wasn’t what they were about.
Coop stripped and stuffed his dirty clothes into the laundry sack to take home. He’d shower, just like he had hundreds of times. He’d go home. Come Monday, he’d be back, facing some other asshole trying to take Danny’s place. He slammed his locker shut.

No one could replace Danny. He rubbed his chest over his heart, but it didn’t diminish the pain, the constant ache. The guilt. Weary now, he shuffled to the shower. All he needed was a fuck, a beer and a night of dreamless sleep.

About Delilah Devlin

Delilah Devlin is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of erotica and erotic romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred thirty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths. She is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Montlake Romance, Running Press and Samhain Publishing. Find out more about Delilah at

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Sunday, November 23, 2014

Sunday Swans

Some of you will remember I love to post my critter counts here at the cabin. We keep a log of all the random animals that happen by, and yesterday we received our most unusual guests so far: four beautiful Trumpeter swans! These birds aren't native to our state and are rarely seen in the South, so this was a wonderful treat. They preened and swam from bank to bank outside our cabin, sunning their wings. 

They were a little shy of us watching, so we took out our telescope and got a better view. There were three pure white birds and one smaller gray adolescent.

Other visitors to the Jones cabin include: bald eagles, deer, bobcats, a panther, mink, turkeys, ducks, Canada geese,  cormorants, and much more.

This place is a little distracting to my writing, but it's so much fun to watch the wildlife all around. I'm still waiting for my first bear, though!

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Cover Reveal--VERSIONS by Megan Mitcham

Today it's my pleasure to share with you the cover of my friend Megan Mitcham's latest novella, VERSIONS:

Versions - Blacklist Novella 1

The truth doesn't have versions. Or does it?

Rin Lee covered her childhood in dirt and danced on its grave. Only she pranced a little too hard and spent her young-adult life tiptoeing the straight and narrow. Things finally paid off in the form of a job with the Department of Defense, a home of her own, and a boyfriend muscled enough he put Zach Efron to shame. Until one text reveals a hideous truth that splinters her world.

Suddenly she can’t trust Nate or their surrogate family of friends. Can she possibly trust Luck—the man who mirrors her soul, scares her beyond the neat confines she’s erected around herself, and makes her scrutinize the versions she’s always been too angry to see?

Luck turned to the streets out of necessity, while Rin slapped on blinders and ignored those willing to help her. A stupid move for a sultry young woman. But the skills she learned in the rough and tumble underbelly of DC will serve his latest assignment well. Because people like them have the instinct to survive.


About the Author:

Megan Mitcham was born and raised among the live oaks and shrimp boats of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where her enormous family still calls home. She attended college at the University of Southern Mississippi where she received a bachelor's degree in curriculum, instruction, and special education. For several years Megan worked as a teacher in Mississippi. She married and moved to South Carolina and began working for an international non-profit organization as an instructor and co-director.

In 2009 Megan fell in love with books. Until then, books had been a source for research or the topic of tests. But one day she read Mercy by Julie Garwood. And Oh Mercy, she was hooked!

Megan lives in Southern Arkansas where she pens heart pounding romantic thriller novels and window steaming erotic romance. For sneak peeks and giveaways sign up for her newsletter at You can also follow her on FacebookTwitterPinterest & Goodreads

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Book Blast: White Collar Wedding

An Amazon exclusive bonus short from Shadow Maverick Ranch

Only $0.99!

The wedding you’ve all been waiting for…

You've been cordially invited to the wedding of Gavin Mathis and Lauren Delgado…

Gavin has waited long enough to make Lauren his. He is counting the days until he will stand before his family and friends and pledge his life to hers. For better or worse. Forever.

Lauren is more than ready to say her vows, but with the construction of their new home far behind deadline, she knows there’s only one thing she can do … cancel the honeymoon so she and Gavin can supervise the completion themselves.

Gavin knows arguing with Lauren will get him nowhere. But missed deadlines aren’t worth missing a pleasure-filled week alone with his bride-to-be.

It’s time to take matters into his own hands…

White Collar Wedding
By Parker Kincade

Publication Date: November 18, 2014


Available exclusively at Amazon for Kindle and Kindle Unlimited


Chapter One

Three weeks before the wedding…

“We’re going to have to cancel.”
Gavin held onto his patience by a thread. “Lauren. Be reasonable.”
His bride-to-be spread her arms and twirled in the middle of what should’ve been their new kitchen, if the fucking contractor had done what Gavin paid him a fortune to do.
Lauren laughed with a manic tone Gavin could go the rest of his life without ever hearing again.
“I am being reasonable. How can we leave for our honeymoon when…” She waved her hand to encompass the area. Her beautiful eyes turned glassy with tears.
Son of a…
Gavin wanted to hit something. Lauren wasn’t prone to shed tears over messes and missed deadlines. She shared his no-nonsense approach to business. More than once he’d been in awe of her strength, the steel in her spine as she’d out-maneuvered countless boardrooms of men.
Every woman had her limits. It seemed the business of building their home had caused Lauren to hit hers.
What was supposed to be the happiest time of their lives had turned into a complete nightmare.
He glanced around the room, which was nothing more than a construction zone. The custom cabinets had been installed, leaving gaping holes where the appliances should be. There were no countertops. No trim. No. Goddamn. Sink.
And that was just the kitchen. The master bathroom didn’t have a shower. The guest bedrooms didn’t have flooring. The walls throughout had yet to be painted.
 Anger fired his blood. Oh, he was definitely going to hit something—the chubby jaw of the bastard who’d left this shit undone.
“We aren’t canceling our honeymoon.” He’d waited more than twelve years to make this woman his. They were less than a month from making it official. Lauren deserved the wedding of her dreams, which included their honeymoon in Hawaii. He’d be damned if she wouldn’t get it.
Seemed Lauren had other ideas.
“Let me rephrase. It’s done. I called the travel agent this morning.”
“Damn it, Lauren. You should’ve talked to me before you made that decision for both of us.”
“Talking about it wouldn’t have changed the situation, Gavin, and you know it. Look around. Our home is in shambles. We’re scheduled to move in a month. You really think that’s going to happen if we aren’t here every single day to make sure things are getting done?”
Gavin couldn’t help but take her comment personally. He didn’t believe in micro-management. He paid good money to others so he wouldn’t have to. But the fact remained: the ranch kept him so busy these days that he hadn’t done his job to make sure their house was completed on time.
“So we postpone our move-in date. We’ll stay at the cabin a little longer. It’s not the end of the world, and certainly not worth missing out— ”
“No. We need to stay and deal with this mess. We can go on our honeymoon later.”
“With calving season right around the corner? You know I can’t leave my brothers to handle all the work.”
“They handled it themselves all the years you lived in London. You think they couldn’t handle one more?”
Gavin stared at the woman he loved, wondering at what point she’d decided to turn on him.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said slowly. “Clay has his hands full with the new stock coming in over at Ainsley’s. Even with Jared’s help, it’s all Pax and I can do to keep up without Clay. You know we’re hiring more help, but until then, it’s all hands on deck, baby. We’ve talked about this.”
He reached for her and muttered a curse when she stepped away.
“Lauren.” Gavin folded his arms to avoid the urge to reach for her again. “When I came back to Texas, I made a promise—to myself and to my family. I have a responsibility to be here for them.”
 Lauren shoved both hands through her hair, leaving behind a mess of shining waves Gavin longed to bury his own fingers in.
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I didn’t mean … of course we can’t go away during calving season. But we can’t go away now either. I wouldn’t be able to relax knowing things are such a mess here.”
Gavin was on her before she could retreat. He pulled her into his arms and breathed a sigh of relief when she melted against him. “I can think of a few ways to help you relax.”
“I have no doubt.” She nuzzled his chest. “I know it’s not ideal, but we could spend our wedding night at the beach house. Maybe spend a day or two there?”
He loved his—their—place on Galveston Island. However— “November isn’t the greatest time for swimming in the Gulf.”
“Who said anything about swimming?”
Gavin stroked a hand over her silky hair, struggling for the words to express how precious she was to him. He settled for, “All right, baby. If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.”
He’d find a way to give this woman the moon if she asked for it, but spending what should be their honeymoon fighting with housing contractors was not his idea of a good time.
He had to make this right.
It was time to call in reinforcements.

* * * * *

Author Bio and Links

National Bestselling Author, Parker Kincade, writes edge-of-your-seat-sexy romantic suspense, hot and steamy sports romance, and erotic western romance. Her first novel, One Night Stand, won the 2013 Reader’s Crown Award for Best First Book, the category of Best Erotic Romance in the Celtic Hearts Romance Writers Golden Claddagh contest, and was named finalist in the Romance Writers of America/Passionate Ink Stroke of Midnight contest.

Parker lives in the southern United States. She loves to read, play golf, spend time with her family and friends, snuggle with her beloved boxer, ice cream from the ice cream truck, and watching old musicals.



Wednesday, November 05, 2014

All In! My Release Day THANK YOU!

Yesterday marked the release of my third historical romance novel, Her Wicked Captain, book one of The River Rogues. My hands are still fluttering with excitement as I type this!

It's been a long ride these past two years from the beginning of the idea, my crush on X-men's Gambit:

Then the research, traveling, and writing...not to mention all the copyedits and revisions I worked on with my patient and wonderful editor, Jessica. Then the fabulous cover.......!

And now, most importantly, a THANK YOU to everyone who went "ALL IN" with Philadelphia and Rory's story of gamblers, revenge, passion, & love! I couldn't do this without my wonderful readers. Thank you for your kind words and for taking the time to read the books.

By the way, I'm keeping you all in mind as finish River Rogues, book two: Kit's story! XOXO 

Saturday, November 01, 2014

Goodreads WINNER!!

Congratulations to EE Giorgi, winner of my Goodreads Giveaway. I'll be sending Ms. Giorgi her $10 gift card very soon!

Thursday, October 30, 2014


Choose your poison! Click on the options below to enter my virtual blog tour giveaway for HER WICKED CAPTAIN (available Nov. 4).

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Friday, October 24, 2014


I've added a few new stops to the virtual book tour for HER WICKED CAPTAIN. Here's the latest list. Be sure to stop at as many of these wonderful bogs as possible to enter to win the prizes, including a $15 gift card, swag, and a signed print book! There will also be excerpts from the book and a few more surprises, so don't miss it!

Oct. 25--Romance Cooks
                 Sexy Siren Book Blog*
Nov. 3--Timeless Quills*
                 Written Love Reviews*
                 Cowboy Kisses*
Nov. 7--Sizzling Hot*
                 Love, Lust, and Laptops*
                --Manga Maniac Cafe*
Nov. 12--Delilah Devlin*

* Official virtual book tour stop

Friday, October 10, 2014

Enchanted Lover Boxed Set

Today it's my pleasure to share Margaret Ethridge's newest release on the blog. Not only is Margaret one of my favorite writer friends, she's also an amazing author. 

Margaret's paranormal romance, Paramour, is included in the new boxed set, Enchanted Lover: 7 Tales of Everlasting Love. Sounds like perfect reading for October nights! I can't wait to get started.

ENCHANTED LOVER: Tales of Everlasting Love 
Seven Novels of Mystical, Magical and Paranormal Romance

PARAMOUR by Margaret Ethridge (ghost)
Two men: one living, one dead, and both vying for her love. Camellia Stafford has never been alone in her room. For twenty years, she's been engaged in a fierce power struggle with her bedroom's previous tenant, Frank DeLuca, the ghost trapped in the light fixture above her bed.

ENTRANCED by Maddie James (time travel, reincarnation)
Jack and Claire set out on a wild search through time, not only for the resolution to a powerful attraction between them, but also for a historical artifact that holds the key to their future happiness--the coveted silver-plated chalice made from Blackbeard's skull.

MYSTIC THUNDER by JC Wardon (witch, mystic)
Millennia of tempestuous ancestral history forewarn Rayne Cavanaugh to hide her ability to communicate with ghosts. But-- When the nephew of the man she just can't resist goes missing in the mountains of Mystic Waters, West Virginia, she must decide between self-preservation and love.

RUNNING OUT OF TIME by Cheryl Norman (time travel)
When Stacy Webber travels to Germany for her best friend's wedding, she loses more than her luggage and purse. She lands in a different time, fifty years ago, with no idea how to return to her world.

TIMELESS by Jan Scarbrough (psychic, ghost, reincarnation)
When Beth Abbott receives a surprise inheritance from her birth mother, she travels to the family's nineteenth century mansion in Old Louisville, KY, now a bed and breakfast. There she meets the resident ghost, a little girl whose crying not only scares, but also intrigues guests.

MAN OF HER DREAMS by Cat Shaffer (dreams, parallel times)
Jessi Flint has a perfectly good life with a successful business and the perfect man. So, he's only in her dreams...until her flaky assistant goes to a New Age fair and Jessi suddenly begins receiving gifts with love notes signed by a mysterious Damian.

ALMOST MAGIC by J.M. Kelley (magic, witch, gifts)
When it came to Vivian Burroughs' unique connection with nature, her grandmother always said, 'Mediocrity may not burn as bright as a firecracker, but it seldom blows up in your face.' But the old woman never advised her on what to do when a sexy new neighbor stokes the flames of attraction.

Release Date: October 7, 2014
Category: Romance > Paranormal
Length: Seven full-length novels, Boxed Set
ISBN: 978-1-62237-340-6
Retail Price: $5.99
Ebook Price: $0.99 (Special Promotional Price)

Monday, October 06, 2014

Room with a View

Painter's Bluff
Just so you know, I'm not lying when I say my hubs and I live in the middle of nowhere. We juggle our calendars to be able to find the time to visit our weekend cabin as frequently as possible. Not only is it our retreat, vacation home, and fishing cabin, it's also where I do the most of my writing. It's here that I wrote my upcoming release, Her Wicked Captain, with its frontier river scenes, and the next River Rogues book after that.

Wildlife watching is one of my favorite cabin activities, and our place allows me to view all kinds of animals. Just this weekend we saw eagles, dozens of teal, Canada geese, deer, wood ducks, herons, and a mink. The only animals rumored to be in our woods that I've yet to see are bear and panthers--but it's only a matter of time. :-)


Have you entered either of my current contests? One is for a $10 Giftcard. Details are here.

And another contest is for newsletter subscribers. It includes a signed print book by me, a cute pistol necklace, and a River Rogues bookmark. Add your name and email to my list for an easy entry here and of course you'll be the first to know about upcoming book release dates. Newsletter subscribers also receive exclusive book excerpts.

Friday, October 03, 2014

Tempting Fate: Guest Post & Giveaway

Brinda Berry, one of my favorite author friends, has a new book out this week. Tempting Fate is a New Adult romance that's hot, hot, hot. Watch the video and see what I mean!

Check it out and enter her FABULOUS giveaway below:

When two worlds collide, it can only be fate.

Collin knows trouble when he sees it. A beautiful girl crashing into his car? She should be flashing a neon DANGER sign. He knows better than to get involved with a fresh-faced babe who could break his already-tattered heart. After graduating from college, he's on track to start over in a new place. He's discovering what he wants from life, away from the shadow of his overbearing father and the betrayal of his cheating ex-fiancĂ©.

Veronica's home life morphs from trailer park to homeless after a bloody fight between her brother and her ex. She's on the run from a situation that promises to be deadly. Without a home, money, or friends, she's at Collin's mercy.

Fate brought them together. Will a secret from her past tear them apart? 

Rafflecopter link:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Wednesday, October 01, 2014

Guest Post--Megan Mitcham!

I'd like to say a big ole', "Thank you," to my writing pal, Sandra Jones for hosing me. I'm so over the moon to be here today and thrilled about the release of the first three novels in the Base Branch Series (Yes, that's three novels released in one!) I'm revealing all. Okay, maybe not all. How about a bit? No, not a mid-drift or a scintillating thigh. That's reserved for the sunny beach, not the internet. I will, however, reveal an excerpt form Enemy Mine, Base Branch Novel 1. Ptsss! It's not the part you'd see on the Amazon preview, if you looked. It's from chapter 8, if I remember correctly. And it's good, if I do say so myself. Enjoy the men and women of the Base Branch! Be sure to leave a comment and let me know your favorite romantic suspense troupe. You'll be entered into a drawing for a $5 Amazon gift card.
The Base Branch Series
Serve in the name of honor. Battle in the name of love.
Known by few as the Base Branch, the United Nations’ Special Operations Forces provide globe defense against any who threaten the fragile balance of peace.
When friends become enemies and enemies become lovers.
Born in the blood of Sierra Leone’s Civil War, enslaved, then sold to the US as an orphan, Base Branch operative, Sloan Harris is emotionally dead and driven by vengeance. With no soul to give, her body becomes the bargaining chip to infiltrate a warlord’s inner circle, the man called The Devil who killed her family and helped destroy a region.
As son of the warlord, Baine Kendrick will happily use Sloan’s body, if it expedites his father’s demise. Yet, he is wholly unprepared for the possessive and protective emotions she provokes. Maybe it’s the flashes of memory. Two forgotten children drawing in the dirt beneath the boabab tree. But he fears there is more at stake than his life.
In the Devil’s den with Baine by her side, Sloan braves certain death and discovers a spirit for living.

        Stroke. Stroke. Breathe. Stroke. Stroke. Breathe. Sloan’s sun flushed skin prickled quickly in the cool water. For the next twenty minutes, she focused on the rhythm. She released every concern from her mind and swam. No, in hooker mode her legs couldn’t kick as furiously as she wanted nor arms stroke as hard, but her muscles still sang. The effort gave her brain a welcomed respite from the restless night.
Covert work had always been Sloan’s forte. Morphing into someone else. Hiding who she was. What she’d endured. But this assignment held in the balance every desire she’d clung to since the day she’d quit mourning her parents and started fighting, everything she’d thought beyond her grasp after so long struggling to make it a reality. This assignment had also tapped a well of emotion she’d thought long ago drained.
“Nice stroke.”
His voice destroyed her solitude. The dark timbre resonated down Sloan’s spine like a cellist’s bow being dragged across the C string. A fresh wave of gooseflesh crested over her. She curled the water’s surface and turned toward Baine. Words froze in her throat. Thick and unruly dark hair cropped neatly around his ears, but dipped and swayed wildly at his forehead. The perfect handle for screwing. Jezuz. If that one wasn’t enticing enough, the swells and dips of his traps, shoulders, and biceps provided a feast of options to grip while riding the sculpted V of his hips. Everywhere she looked his swarthy skin wrapped taut—over a defined eight pack, thick and sturdy legs, corded forearms. The short crinkles of brown hair that peppered across his chest and peeked out from the waist of his swim trunks sizzled her brain. 
“Thank you.” Sloan aimed for courteous and non-solicitous, tamping down the resentment, warring curiosity, and wicked lust he stirred inside her with every bit of self-control she possessed.
The bespoke suit he’d worn so well the night before had been traded for charcoal swim trunks and a towel slung over one shoulder. He moved toward her with grace that belied his bulk, before dropping his towel on the chaise next to hers. Of all the chairs and loungers in the place, he’d chosen the only occupied lounger on the entire patio. The act, though in all likelihood innocent, rang in Sloan’s ears like a war cry. A deliberate move in a complicated game of chess. Having just finished her laps, his timing was too perfect to be coincidence.
Baine turned and settled his gaze on her. Sloan searched for any sign of recognition in the sky blue orbs, in the tautness of his square jaw, or the furrow of his brow, and found none. Good.If he recognized her, the mission would be ruined. Not that she’d live to see the fallout. It was good that his eyes hadn’t alighted with remembrance, but heedless of the boon, emptiness pitted her belly.
Every battle honed instinct screamed for Sloan to retreat. In submission, she pushed off the bottom and glided to the stone outcropping only a few feet away from the enigma that was Baine Kendrick. She should hate him on sight. Anger roiled just under the surface, but the sudden and undeniable physical awareness of him played bumper-cars with the ire and her brain.
“It’s all yours,” she said, levering herself out of the water. Thousands of droplets rained off her body, and Baine’s intent study likely cataloged each. Like a damn schoolgirl, her cheeks heated.
“That’s good,” he said. A smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. Then he added, “I think you would put me to shame in a proper race.”
Sloan shook her head, unable to speak. The twinge of memory of two forgotten children racing over the green grass was too sweet and painful to rouse.
He held out a towel, and she forced her feet to close the distance. Proximity sent a jolt of electricity coursing through her, similar to the energy that surged before a fight, but different. She swallowed hard, struggling to ignore the nuance, which made her hyper aware she wore only strategically placed strips of spandex. When her fingers closed around the terry cloth, Lana and Cynthia came ambling through the doorway onto the patio. Their conversation quieted once they saw her and Baine. The women waved.
“Good morning, ladies.”
They beamed at him as they walked by, then settled on side-by-side lounges at the opposite end of the row. Sloan nodded and soaked up the excess moisture from her hair and body in preparation for her escape. She secured the towel around her body with a tuck of its tail at the top of her breast, and gave him the best smile she could muster.
“Enjoy the—”
“Lotion me,” he asked. Though his tone made it sound like more like a command.
Sloan turned a palm up. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any.” She motioned toward the other women. “They might have some, and I’m sure they’d happily help.”
“And you wouldn’t,” he countered.
While she sputtered, something she didn’t recall ever having done in her life, he reached across her to a side table and plucked a tube from a decorative bowl. His body came so close to hers the heat he radiated seeped into her marrow. As he retreated, the dusting of dark hair on his chest tickled her arm.
“Here,” he said, slapping the lotion into her hand.
He sat on the end of the chaise, elbows on his knees. Hunching didn’t diminish his presence in the least. In fact, it drew Sloan’s attention to the sloping topography of his chest and the spread of his shoulders, which dwarfed the chair under him. When she didn’t move he tilted his chin up and directed her behind him with a thick arm.
        She circled him in a wide arc, but surrendered, tucking behind him on the hard wood. Clinically, like she treated a field wound, Sloan uncapped the sunscreen, deposited a dollop on her palm and began rubbing it onto his back. From his nape she worked her way out over his shoulders, denying the tingle the friction created below her waist. Until he leaned into her touch.

Megan Mitcham was born and raised among the live oaks and shrimp boats of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where her enormous family still calls home. She attended college at the University of Southern Mississippi where she received a bachelor's degree in curriculum, instruction, and special education. For several years Megan worked as a teacher in Mississippi. She married and moved to South Carolina and began working for an international non-profit organization as an instructor and co-director.

In 2009 Megan fell in love with books. Until then, books had been a source for research or the topic of tests. But one day she read Mercy by Julie Garwood. And oh, Mercy, she was hooked!
Megan lives in Southern Arkansas where she pens heart pounding romantic thriller novels and window-steaming erotic romance. 

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