Scavenger Hunts, Socials, & Print Releases, OH MY!

Things have been pretty quiet around here since the  beginning of January, at least in terms of news and updates. (Real life? Busy as hell.) But I wanted to pop on tonight to share some stuff that some of you might be interested in.

Night Owl Romance Spring Fling Scavenger Hunt

I’ve participated in the Night Owl Romance scavenger hunts before, and if you’ve never checked them out, it’s a great way to find new-to-you books by dozens of authors, in just about every genre of romance you can think of. There’s truly something for everyone.

Once again, I’ve joined the fun as one of the Spring Fling Scavenger Hunt sponsors. Participating as a reader is easy. Just head over to Night Owl Reviews, check out the blurbs, and enter in the giveaway. There are loads of Amazon Cards to be won, and all the authors have giveaway swag on the line as well.

Personally, I’m giving away a signed print copy of THE ONE I’M WITH (U.S. mailing address only!).

The Spring Fling Scavenger Hunt runs through May 3rd!

Instagram At lAst

A couple weeks ago, the Carolina Romance Writers hosted Laura Russell to present some fantastic information on how to use Instragram for branding and marketing.

I think I technically had an Instagram account set up like two years ago, but I never used it. I’m now using it.

I can’t say I’ve really found my Insta-thing yet, mostly because I’m playing with out the dang app works. But I have a pretty fast learning curve, so bear with me for a bit while I find my footing.

He Takes the Cake Print Release

I don’t have an official release date yet for when HE TAKES THE CAKE will be out in print. But I do know it will be soon! Keep an eye on the blog, newsletter, and socials for the official announcement once I have it.

And of course, Writing

What’s down the pipeline for me, writing-wise?

Well, my post-Civil War historical is in semi-re-polish mode while I float it off to a couple of contests. I’ll be starting the next round of submissions over the summer, I think.

And remember Marissa’s three best friends from THE ONE I’M WITH? They deserve their own stories, so that’s what I’m currently working on. Absolutely no other information on that, because I’m about a chapter and a half into the draft of the first book. But any announcements in the future about that trilogy project will happen in the email newsletter and right here!

Writing Resource Recommendation (Vlog)

It’s been ages since I’ve posted anything about me. Stay tuned for info on upcoming events I’ll be part of in the next few months!

Also forgive the video lighting. I’m having a hard time finding a good place to film videos in our house.

A Walk on the Wild Side (Virtual Tour & Giveaway)

A WALK ON THE WILD SIDE

by Eileen Dreyer writing as Kathleen Korbell

Genre: Romantic Suspense

J.P. O’Neill is in the fight of his life. A legendary agent with the DEA, he’s uncovered a conspiracy in his own agency. The only problem is he’s been arrested for the murder of his partner. If he goes to jail, he dies.

There’s only one solution—escape. The only way to do that is to kidnap his defense attorney. Lauren Taylor is a high-priced attorney doing a favor for a friend. Suddenly she finds herself on the run with the most dangerous man she’s ever met. Will she survive with her heart intact?

“Ms. Korbel generates an incredible chemistry between her two immensely appealing lovers that will set your heart on fire.” ~ RT Booklovers

Read An Excerpt

The room looked tired, heavy under the weight of what it had witnessed. Lauren knew the feeling.

“The chances for bail aren’t very good,” she admitted honestly, eyes back on the file as if memorizing the words she’d already studied. “They have a witness who claims to have seen you shoot Robert Carson—”

“I did shoot him.”

She was forced to look up at him again. “Pardon?”

He shrugged, those eyes suddenly, briefly as bleak as death. “My old mother always told me to take responsibility for my actions. Bobby was my partner, so I owe him that much.”

Honor. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that. Lauren realized that her chest was beginning to ache. She wanted to comfort this man, and it frightened her. She nudged her glasses back up onto her nose and clutched her pen as if it were a weapon of self-defense.

“Why did you shoot him?”

The smile she got was as dark as those eyes. Even, strong teeth flashed white beneath the bedraggled mustache. “Because he was going to shoot me, of course.”

Lauren took a look at her reports. “But there was no gun found.”

“Of course not. The last thing they need is to have me sounding legitimate. Which is also why that packet of crack flipped out on the ground when the police were turning out my pockets. It had been planted. Nothing like a dirty narc to turn on his best friend, after all.”

Which brought Lauren back to the call she’d received just as she’d been gathering up her briefcase. She set down her pen. She laid her hands on the table and faced her client. And she asked him the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. “Are you a dirty narc?”

This time his smile was wild and delighted. His eyes crackled with a kind of mad glee that had no place in this dingy room. “If I were a dirty narc,” he assured her, “I sure as hell wouldn’t be dressed like this.’’

She nodded. More than that would have been superfluous. Mr. O’Neill went back to mutilating his coffee cup. His eyes were red-rimmed, his manner tense and unpredictable. He was millimeters from taking flight, his long legs almost twitching with the effort to remain still. On almost anyone else, Lauren would have suspected drugs. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to think that about this man.

“They,” she echoed his statement. “They who?”

That was what broke his patience. He launched from his chair as if he’d been spring-loaded. Lauren almost flinched, not sure what he had in mind. Wondering not for the first time how close at hand help was.

But he wasn’t focused on her. Hands shoved into the pockets of his battered old peacoat, head down, he paced.

Lauren fought the urge to check her watch. Her stomach was grumbling. She was supposed to meet Phil for dinner tonight. She was going to get there right about the dessert course if this kept up, and she was going to need more than dessert to see her through. Lauren’s stomach was a notorious dictator, and even Mr. O’Neill’s story wasn’t going to quiet its demands.

“Mr. O’Neill.”

His head shot up. He slid to a stop by the door. “J.P.,” he allowed with a quick grin that was actually charming. “I haven’t been called Mr. O’Neill since Sister Roch caught me smoking in the boy’s room in eighth grade.”

Lauren scowled, trying her best not to give in to the urge to smile back. “I’ll bet. Who are ‘they’? Did ‘they’ do that to you?” she asked, pointing to what looked like a new abrasion along his right cheekbone.

“No.” He smiled. “That was nothing more than a quick etiquette lesson by the arresting officers.”

Lauren stiffened. She was hardly a neophyte in the ways of police, but it didn’t make her any happier. “Did you provoke it?”

“Of course. I was found standing over a dead federal agent with a gun in my hand. They had every right to object.”

Eileen will be awarding a $25 Amazon/Barnes & Noble Gift Card to one randomly chosen commenter.  Click here to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway

About Eileen Dreyer

New York Times bestselling, RWA Hall of Fame author Eileen Dreyer has published 31 romance novels in most genres, 8 medical­forensic suspenses, and 10 short stories.

2015 sees Eileen enjoying critical acclaim for her foray into historical romance, the Drake’s Rakes series, which Eileen labels as Regency Romantic Adventure that follows a group of Regency aristocrats who are willing to sacrifice everything to keep their country safe. She is also working on her first non­fiction book, TRAVELS WITH DAVE, about a journey she’s been taking with a friend’s ashes.

A retired trauma nurse, Eileen lives in her native St. Louis with her husband, children, and large and noisy Irish family, of which she is the reluctant matriarch. She has animals but refuses to subject them to the limelight.

Website:  http://eileendreyer.com/

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/eileendreyer

 Amazon buy link:  https://www.amazon.com/Walk-Wild-Side-Korbel-Classics-ebook/dp/B079Y9PB9D/ref=sr_1_1

BN buy link:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-walk-on-the-wild-side-eileen-dreyer/1127971511

The Marquis and I (Virtual Tour & Giveaway)

The Marquis and I

by Ella Quinn

 

Trouble is no match for a lady of the extended Worthington family—except when it comes in the form of a most irresistible gentleman . . .

 

Lady Charlotte Carpenter’s brother-in-law has put an infamous brothel owner out of business—yet it is Charlotte who suffers the consequences. Abducted by thugs and held at an inn, she is plotting her escape when she’s suddenly rescued by a dashing gentleman. Only afterward does she realize she’s seen him before—with two courtesans! Unwilling to tarry with such a man, Charlotte makes her second escape. But it is too late to repair her reputation . . .

 

A known gossip has spied Charlotte’s movements, and his report is speeding through the rumor mill. Soon, everyone knows that Charlotte spent the night with Constantine, Marquis of Kenilworth. And everyone agrees the only answer is marriage—including Constantine himself, his overjoyed mother—and his mistress! But Charlotte’s abductors aren’t finished with her yet. Now Constantine will do anything to protect the spirited woman he loves and win her heart . . .

Read An Excerpt

“I have come to see Lady Charlotte.”

“Follow me, my lord. The family is in the garden for the wedding.”

Wedding?

To the best of his knowledge, Charlotte was the only young lady of marriageable age not already wed. Had Harrington returned with a special license? He could go to the devil it he had. He could not have her. Charlotte was Con’s, and it was about time she knew it. “I can find my way.”

“As you wish, my lord. Go straight down the corridor.”

“Thank you.”

He must put an end to this wedding before it was too late. Rushing down the corridor, he looked to his right, and spied open French windows in a parlor. A large group of people were gathered just beyond the terrace.

Con prayed he was in time to stop her. Halt the wedding. Hell, what sort of man asks permission of his father to marry someone like Charlotte? Not one she needs.

The Fates had given her to him and no one was going to take her away. Even if the time to object had passed, he would make himself known. She was his.

Dashing through the room, he arrived in the garden in time to hear Worthington say, “If there is anyone who objects to this wedding, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Worthington? Con almost skidded to a stop.

Ella Quinn will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to one randomly drawn winner. Click here to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway. 

About the Author

Bestselling author Ella Quinn’s studies and other jobs have always been on the serious side. Reading historical romances, especially Regencies, were her escape. Eventually her love of historical novels led her to start writing them.

After living in the South Pacific, Central America, North Africa, England and Europe, she and her husband decided to make their dreams come true and are now living on a sailboat cruising the Caribbean and North America. Europe is next!

She loves having readers connect with her.

Website: www.ellaquinnauthor.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/EllaQuinnAuthor

Twitter www.twitter.com/ellaquinnauthor

Blog http://ellaquinnauthor.wordpresscom

The Marquis and I Buy Links

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2s3Cqbp

Barnes & Noble http://bit.ly/2rI8cKu

Kobo http://bit.ly/2r8Dyet

iTunes http://apple.co/2tT1wZb

Don’t Let Him Go (Virtual Tour & Giveaway)

Don’t Let Him Go

by Kay Harris

 

GENRE:   Contemporary Romance

Candace Gleason passed the bar, landed a great job, and is making a killer salary–basically, all of her dreams are coming true. Until she’s assigned to keep the boss’s petulant son out of trouble.

Jack Morrison is the rebellious black sheep of a mighty real estate family. He runs a nonprofit whose mission is to save poor people from evil corporations, like the one his own family owns. He is obnoxious, ridiculously charming, and insanely hot. He is the bane of Candace’s very existence.

Sparks fly from the moment they meet.  Candace suddenly has more to worry about than keeping Jack out of jail. She has to keep him out of her heart.

Read an Excerpt

He held his hand out to me. When I didn’t immediately take it, he wiggled his fingers. I relented and put my hand in his as I followed him onto the trail.

“Why are your hands calloused?” I asked.

“I use them a lot,” he explained. “I do projects at the apartment complex, help out some buddies working to renovate other buildings, stuff like that.”

“Figures.”

“Some women find a man that works with his hands to be sexy,” he said, rubbing his thumb along the inside of my wrist.

“And some women find a man in a suit sexy,” I retorted.

“Hmm. I bet I can guess which one you are, Candie.”

“Why do you call me Candie?”

“I like it. It suits you. And I like that I’m the only one who calls you that.”

“You’re not.”

He stopped on the path and cocked his head at me. “I’m not?”

“No. My dad calls me that. When you first did it, I thought maybe you knew him.”

“Hmm. Maybe I should stop then.”

For reasons I would probably never comprehend, I didn’t want him to. “Why?”

Suddenly, Jack pulled me into his arms and moved us both off the trail until my back was up against a giant tree. My head spun as I looked up at him, my breath shallow, my eyes wide.

“I don’t want you to think about your dad when you’re with me,” he said, lowering his head.

I put my hands on either side of his face. He was freshly shaven today, and his skin was deliciously smooth. “I don’t,” I told him.

Want to win a $25 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner? Enter The Rafflecopter Giveaway! Don’t forget to click on the tour banners up top for more chances to win

About Kay Harris

Kay Harris has had a diverse career with jobs ranging from college professor to park ranger. Now she adds author to her repertoire. Kay writes romance novels that contain a little bit of sweet, a dash of sexy, a touch of heartbreak, and a whole lot of fun!

Kay grew up in the Midwest and has since lived all over the western United States including Montana, Wyoming, Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and California. She loves to hike, is obsessed with museums, and enjoys taking her extremely tall and very handsome husband on adventures.

Find Kay on Social Media :

WEBSITE:  http://www.kayharrisauthor.com

BLOG:  https://www.kayharrisauthor.com/blog/

TWITTER:  https://twitter.com/KayHarrisAuthor

FACEBOOK:  https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKayHarris/

GOODREADS:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15060640.Kay_Harris

BOOKBUB: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kay-harris

Buy the Book:

 AMAZON: https://www.amazon.com/Dont-Let-Want-Morrison-Book-ebook/dp/B0795FR2PC/

BARNES AND NOBLE: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dont-let-him-go-kay-harris/1127851590;jsessionid=96B953E9DCA4CF67DBA014BFF9BF3AC3.prodny_store01-atgap12

 

The Obligatory New Year’s Goal Setting Post (Happy 2018)

It’s been a while since my last post – holidays, you know how it is. This December seemed to fly by, and I swear lost a week between Thanksgiving and Christmas break. As for the holidays themselves – a whirlwind. To sum it up, we drove to Western PA and Upstate NY to visit family, and the following shenanigans occurred:

  1. Power went out on Christmas day, requiring my uncle to dig his grill out of over a foot of snow. He and my cousin proceeded to finish cooking Christmas dinner – a ham, a pot of sauce and meatballs, and a pot of homemade macaroni – on said grill. Neither snow nor lack of electricity will keep hungry Italians from their food. (Of course, the power came back on literally ten minutes before everything was done cooking.)
  2. It was freaking cold. Like single digits. And we just barely missed a huge lake effect storm in my hometown that dumped about 3 feet of snow overnight.
  3. Babycakes caught a 24-hour bug at the tail end of everything while we were at my in-laws’, which of course hit at 3am. So we were doing a bath and hair washing and bed-linen changing in the middle of the night. The only bright spot is that I happened to decide to sleep on the air mattress with the hubs, rather in the bed with Babycakes. Otherwise I would have gotten a face-full.
  4. We drove 10 hours (give or take) from PA to NC praying Babycakes wouldn’t puke in the car. Fortunately the worst that happened was that we ran out of windshield washer fluid just north of Beckley, WV, and had to go to THREE different gas stations before finally finding a place that wasn’t sold out.
  5. Every adult in the house has subsequently gone through some version of that same 24 hour bug. It’s been rough around here the past few days.

So I was very ready for 2017 to end.

Now that 2018 is here, it’s time to set some goals. Remember, if you’ve read past New Year’s goal-setting posts, I don’t really do resolutions so much as make a plan for things to accomplish. This year, I’m keeping it simple.

  1. Implement Operation Self-Care. I blogged a couple months ago about how I’ve been struggling with stress management, wellness, and so on. I have a general plan in mind and have been chipping away at a few small steps. Now it’s time to put things fully into motion. Improve my nutrition (or at least start taking vitamins regularly again). Fit in exercise. Sleep better. Soak in the garden tub while burning candles that smell like the beach. Read more books. Breathe.
  2. Survive the school year. This sounds more doom and gloom than it is. I’m involved in a couple very cool initiatives with the district Social Studies department, in preparation for a coaching role I’ll be undertaking next year that I’m very excited about. But it’s busy and a lot of work. And then there’s the actual teaching part of my job. Guess who realized this morning, thanks to a coworker’s Facebook post, that she didn’t actually write any plans for January 3rd-5th?
  3. Secure at least one new book contract. I’ve been a bit between projects since HE TAKES THE CAKE came out in June (and the print edition should be out later this spring or early summer, FYI). I submitted a historical romance to Avon Impulse at the beginning of September, but don’t expect to hear back until March. If March comes and goes with no word, I’ll start shopping it around elsewhere. In the meantime, I’ve just finished plotting a trilogy that spins-off THE ONE I’M WITH. Now to write it.

And that’s it! Three pretty simple goals that I think are manageable.

Bonus points if I figure out how to clone myself so I can still teach history but also stay at home with Babycakes and write.

Prosecco Christmas (Blog Tour)

Prosecco Christmas

by Sylvia Ashby

Family is where life begins.

And what better time to spend with your family than Christmas week?

Ashley and Giacomo go to Upper Swainswick, a postcard village ten minutes’ drive from Bath, to stay with Ashley’s mum and stepdad. It’s their last visit before the arrival of their first child.

But babies have a habit of being unpredictable.

So when Ashley goes into labour on Christmas Eve, three weeks ahead of schedule, it takes everyone by surprise.

She’s not ready! Her perfect Birth Plan is packed away in her hospital bag two hundred miles away, she has no going home outfit, and she has a live event planned for New Year’s Eve for her YouTube channel, The Sinking Chef. People have been signing up for it for weeks. She can’t possibly disappoint them on the last day of the year. What is she to do?

The tinsel gets even more tangled when Giacomo’s parents decide to fly from Italy to meet their first grandchild. Hotels are fully booked, so everyone has to stay under the same roof.

Would eleven people in the house, not counting the baby, turn out to be simply too much for Ashley?

Read an Excerpt

Predictability is key in having an uncomplicated birth, I realise.

Joslyn, a young and tall American lady at the antenatal classes, even tried to use an ancient Japanese fortune-telling device – omikuji to predict the correct birth date for her child. I checked it on the internet and omikuji is basically a paper strip with a prophecy written on it and can be found at shrines and temples throughout Japan.

Only Joslyn wasn’t in Japan, but in England and we don’t have many shrines and temples around. So she made do with a free omikuji generator online. She got “uncertain bad luck”, “uncertain good luck” and “middle bad luck” and was quite hysterical for the rest of her pregnancy. I don’t think she scheduled a Caesarean either.

‘Giacomo, could you give us a hand with the wine? I want to pick some good Prosecco. You stay in the car, darling,’ Mum chirps towards me as she hurries out. ‘We won’t be a mo.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ I cry after her. I don’t fancy spending the next half an hour alone in the car. Mum’s “moments” can be anywhere up to an hour at a time.

I open the car door and put my foot out. I step right into a puddle which soaks my boot with German efficiency.

‘Great.’ I groan.

I turn in my seat and try to get out of the car avoiding the puddle with my other foot. Hopefully, it’ll be warm inside Marks & Spencer’s so my boot will dry out fast. I manage to step over the wet patch and slide out of the seat when a Braxton Hicks hits me so hard I double over in pain. I close my eyes, breathe and pant for a few seconds. Hot sweat flushes down my body and soaks me all the way down to my, already wet, feet.  This contraction is particularly strong. It makes me grip my stomach, huddle my shoulders and shiver against the strong December wind.

I really wish I was at home, in bed, and not in a supermarket car park braving the wind. “I’m pregnant and in pain!” I want to shout after Mum who’s just disappearing through the supermarket’s sliding doors. Next to her is Michael, who is still tapping on his phone and not looking where he’s going.

‘You all right, love?’ I hear a man’s voice from close proximity. I look up. It’s the man I saw this morning collecting donations by the M&S front door. The one with the Rudolf jumper and Santa hat. He’s looking at me with an open interest.

‘I’m fine, thanks.’ I straighten up and brush my hair back. ‘It’s Braxton Hicks,’ I explain. ‘It’s not the real thing.’

The man doesn’t look convinced. He shakes his green donation bucket, making it rattle thoughtfully.

‘Braxton Hicks, uh?’ he says. ‘It’s doesn’t look like Braxton Hicks to me.’

I glare at him, irate. Why does everyone around me think they are childbirth experts? Mum, Michael, now this man in a ridiculous reindeer jumper with a donation bucket.

‘I’ve just been to the hospital,’ I inform him, ‘where I was thoroughly examined,’ “by a nurse with a uterus” I almost add but stop myself. ‘They assured me these are Braxton Hicks’.

‘Right,’ the man doesn’t waver. ‘Who did you say examined you?’

Honestly! Why does this man think I have time for chit-chat when I’m in so much pain?

I lean back against the car for support. I feel quite faint all of a sudden.

‘I can’t remember,’ I tell him breathlessly. ‘And does it really matter anyway?’

The man shakes his donation bucket again.

‘I think they might have got it wrong.’

‘Maybe.’ I force myself to nod politely. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘That wet patch on the front of your jeans is a pretty big telltale,’ he says, eying my legs.

I look down.

‘Oh, my God!’ I squeal. ‘My waters broke!’

Meet Sylvia Ashby

Sylvia Ashby is fond of the written word: books, blog posts, recipes, even an explanation to the HM Revenue & Customs as to why she thinks skirts should be exempt from VAT – she’s written it all!

She likes travelling and has lived all over Europe – London, Brussels, Amsterdam and Sofia, Bulgaria. Currently, she lives in Leuven, Belgium with her husband, daughter, son and a sparrow called Jack, who comes occasionally to peck the seeds she leaves for him on top of the garden shed.

Blog: www.sylvia-ashby.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/bysylvia_a

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

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Sylvia-Ashby/e/B00DK8M2NM/

Sylvia is giving away a pair of Prosecco funny socks. Enter at Rafflecopter for your chance to win.