Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 31, 2019

HOLIDAY READS : Love in the Key of C by Daryl Devore




Love in the Key of C by Daryl Devore


BLURB:
Can a slice of pizza and a flute erase the ravages of life and allow Giselle and Ethan to fall in love by Christmas?
Collapsing in front the biggest department store in the city on one of the busiest
days of the holiday season was not how Giselle imagined her day. Cold and
hungry, she trudged through her daily existence wondering if she'd ever find
happiness again.
Teenagers. Ethan loved working with them and turning their raw musical talent
into something beautiful and rewarding, but that didn't fill the black void in his
soul.
Like fate, the songwriters' muse nudged Giselle and Ethan together. But can
Giselle overcome her fears and can Ethan get past the darkness that surrounds
him, so they can find love?

Release date – Dec 23, 2017

eXtasy Books
EXCERPT:
She looked so cold and weak, like she hadn't eaten in a while and was clinging
with failing resolve to any semblance of a normal life. I heard the rumbling of her
stomach. Anybody could who happened to be within a ten-foot radius. But more importantly, she was beautiful. No, not her outside. Her clothes were
worn and hung on her like she'd purchased them three sizes too big. The
sallowness of her skin resembled some of the dead and faded leaves that
still clogged the city's sewers. Her hair was wet from the weather and a small
cap of whiteness rested on her shoulders. A shiver shot through me as I glanced
down at her feet. Tired shoes soaked from the slush on the sidewalk. I fought off
the sensation of how cold her toes must be. It was her eyes that captured me. No, not the color, which was brown if you really
needed to know. It was the pain of her existence that poured from them. They
were a billboard exposing the humiliation that hung around her shoulders and
robbed her of the proud stance she'd once possessed. I wanted to help her, offering her a moment of warmth, rest and nourishment.
What stopped me? A debate raged inside. Did I offer her this gift and then release
her back into the elements and despair that had become her life? Wouldn't that
be cruel? Or, did I look away and pretend she didn't exist, like so many others had
done? I knew how this city worked. What we refuse to acknowledge does not then
taint our lives.
Taint. Taint me—dammit. I needed to meet this woman.



***


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Tuesday, December 24, 2019

HOLIDAY READS: The President’s Daughter by Seelie Kay



The President’s Daughter by Seelie Kay

Release Date: Dec. 22, 2018
Publisher: Extasy Books
Romantic Suspense, three flames

An Interview with Seelie Kay:
Q.  Why do you write romance?
Because I am fascinated by the games people play to find and secure a lasting relationship, which is not always love. There’s the chase, the courtship, the falling, the surrender. That’s what I try to capture in my stories.
Q.  Do you prefer a certain type of romantic hero?
I adore smart, dashing gentlemen who aren’t afraid to live on the edge. They can be a bad boy, a billionaire, a prince, or a secret agent. That hint of danger just hooks me! However, I also love strong, independent women who aren’t afraid to fight for what they want, even love.
Q.  Why did you write “The President’s Daughter?”
Actually, the book is dedicated to my editor, since he inspired the idea for the book. About a year ago, he posted a photo on Facebook. It turns out he was adopted by an American couple at eight years old from an orphanage in Italy. That started me thinking about the adoption process and how families aren’t necessarily born of blood, sometimes they are born of the heart. So as my overactive imagination began to wander, I came across an article about someone who was kidnapped as a baby and as a teenager, discovered her true origins. From there, I wondered what happens when, after being raised by your kidnappers, you are suddenly faced with the truth? How does that impact your concept of family? Do you love your kidnappers any less? At the time I was looking for a holiday story and family is so important during the holidays that my musings became “The President’s Daughter.” 
Q.   Romantic suspense is a new genre for you. You’re most known for your Kinky Briefs series, which are collections of stories about lawyers in love, with a dash of kink. “Snatching Dianna,” your first attempt at suspense was released Oct. 19 and this book has the same elements. Why the shift from erotic romance?
I have always had a preference for mysteries and thrillers. I enjoy plots that challenge the mind. My characters still enjoy erotic, loving relationships, but now the action focuses on solving a dilemma or crime. And in “The President’s Daughter” the lead character is faced with the discovery of two families. She must decide whether blood takes precedence over the heart.
Q.   How does your former profession as a lawyer impact your writing?
After 30 years, the law and the legal world are so firmly embedded in my brain that I can’t flush them out. That has become the lens through which I view the world and that naturally guides my characters and plots. Little peculiarities that I have witnessed in lawyers and the law always work their way into my stories. 
Q.   Any plans to write outside the romance genre completely?
Actually, I ghostwrite non-fiction for other professionals—doctors, lawyers, financial gurus—so I dip my toes into a lot of different genres. However, I have been itching to write a book about a relative who founded a religious cult. I researched it for years and found a lot of information that had been buried. I have a pile of paper a foot high. Someday, I need to go through it carefully and start writing. I have the interest, just not the time.
Blurb:
Be careful what you wish for because it just might send your life into a tailspin from which you may not recover.
When presidential candidate Jamisen Powell meets volunteer Sarah Lee Pearson, he is shocked to discover her eyes mirror his own. But Sarah was raised by two loving parents and has no questions about her heritage. Instead, after their death, she merely longs to find an extended family. She becomes convinced that Powell could be a distant relative. Powell, on the other hand, has spent twenty-five long years haunted by the memory of a daughter kidnapped from her bed. He suspects Sarah could be his long-lost daughter. As both launch separate covert searches for the truth, Sarah is found by the estranged parents of the man who raised her. Suddenly, the truth will no longer set her free. It could destroy the happy memories of her childhood. Hang on to your seat, and more importantly, hang on to your heart, as one woman discovers the true meaning of family.
Excerpt:
“You think I’m Sally Jane Powell?”
“I can’t confirm that, not without a DNA test, but…” Lisa pulled out two driver’s licenses from the envelope. “I found these in that shoebox you gave me, the one with your parents’ personal effects and your photos and stuff. Your parents were first issued driver’s licenses in Wisconsin in nineteen ninety-four, five years after you were born, also the year Sally was kidnapped.” 
Lisa tapped the photos on the licenses. “Look at your parents, Slee. You look nothing like them. Do you know the chances of two brown-eyed adults, both with dark hair, having a blonde, blue-eyed child? It’s exceptionally rare. It’s possible one of your grandparents had blue eyes, but I couldn’t find any photos to confirm.”
“Maybe I was adopted. I always wondered…”
Lisa shook her head. “I’m sorry, Slee. I couldn’t find a record of that either.” She pulled out two more news clippings. “Slee, this is a photo of you when you were seven. When you won a spelling bee? It was in your box.” She handed the other clipping to Sarah. “Compare that photo to the one of Sally. The one the police distributed when she was taken.”
Sarah studied both photos. Then she shook her head. “There are some similarities, sure. Same eyes. Same color hair. But there are also some differences. My face is thinner. My hair is long and straight. Hers is curly. It could just be a coincidence.” She looked up at Lisa and her eyes filled. “No way I was kidnapped. My parents loved me too much. Besides, don’t people kidnap for money?”
Lisa shook her head. “Not always. Sometimes, they just want a child.” She patted Sarah’s hand. “Slee, I know this is disturbing, but let’s not put the cart before the horse. And no matter what we find, that doesn’t make your parents any less your parents. Sure, there’s a chance that you don’t share their blood, but they loved you. Hold on to that.” 
Buy links:







About Seelie Kay:
Seelie Kay is a nom de plume for a writer, editor, and author with more than 30 years of experience in law, journalism, marketing, and public relations. When she writes about love and lust in the legal world, something kinky is bound to happen!  In possession of a wicked pen and an overly inquisitive mind, Ms. Kay is the author of multiple works of fiction, including the Kinky Briefs series, The Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, and The President’s Wife. 
When not spinning her kinky tales, Ms. Kay ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. She resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she shares a home with her son and enjoys opera, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine. 

Ms. Kay is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS:  Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!
Author links:
Twitter: @SeelieKay https://twitter.com/SeelieKay
Prior Books:


Coming soon:
Infamy (Part Two, Feisty Lawyers):  January 4, 2019
Cult (Part Three, Feisty Lawyers): TBD

Seizing Hope (Divorce Divas anthology): January 24, 2019

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Tuesday, December 3, 2019

HOLIDAY READS : The Prophet and the Snow Angel - Coming Dec 7th from eXtasy Books!

Blurb ~ 

Two Turtle Doves must save the throne of the most powerful church in the world before a terrorist act destroys it and all hope for Christmas.

When Navy Seal Team leader, Charlie Stein is paired with Operations Analyst Aria Lockett, he is annoyed. Having the burden of an Analyst on a field mission was not a headache he wanted to endure.

Operations Analyst Aria Lockett has been tracking The White Guard Terrorist cell for years. When they finally get a strong lead on an upcoming attack, she is ready to put an end to their terrorist reign once and for all.

 With an imminent attack scheduled for Christmas Day in Rome, the pair must work together to thwart the threat. The unease between them quickly turns to trust and unexpected desire. When the terror cell is alerted to their plan, can they remain focused and save Christmas or will their growing feelings cloud their judgment and destroy the path of hope?

Excerpt ~
Stein watched the lightly freckled redhead look him over before diverting her eyes to her phone. She walked past him for he assumed privacy. He took a seat at the table where she’d sat, looking over the scattered documents, noticing her empty cup of coffee he grabbed it and moved to the coffee station, hearing pieces of her conversation on the phone.

“I'd like to restate our commitment to helping you find some answers. No, I understand the meaning of proprietary – do you understand the meaning of collusion?”

Damn

Stein filled up both cups of coffee, noticing she had cream and a hint of hazelnut from the smell of the cup. He bent opening the mini-refrigerator beneath the coffee station. A bottle of hazelnut creamer sat on the door. He added the cream, grabbing two filled cups and returned to the table.

“Correct.” Stein watched her brow furrow, before she swept her hand through her hair. “We need to know the specific chemical contents of those canisters.”
Stein put the cups on the table and removed his dress jacket, hanging it in the cabin closet before unbuttoning the top of his shirt and loosening his tie. She returned to the table, picking up the cup of refilled coffee, taking a sip while she listened to the person on the phone.

“Uh, no, I am in charge. What do you want me to say? We are talking about an imminent terrorist threat. Yes, well—I see. No, I understand…All right. Get back to me with the chemical breakdown of what…this is the number. And how long—I'll be expecting your call.” She hung up the phone and tossed it on the table. “Asshole.”

“Araena lawyers giving you a hard time?” Stein snickered.

“Yes, and imminent threat or collusion has no meaning – wait how did you know that’s who I was talking to?” Aria glared, picking up her cup of coffee.

“I recognized the photos. Araena Pharmaceuticals burnt to the ground last week. From the tidbits of the conversation – not that I was eavesdropping—those canisters are missing, or Araena is stating they were empty. Also, you wrote down the name Geoff Vlakin and underlined it twice. Vlakin was the only reported death in the Araena fire. My guess is mister Vlakin was the creator of what was in them – likely not a cure for Cancer—and has miraculously turned up somewhere in Paris.” He extended his hand, “Charlie Stein.” She took it with a firm grip.

“Aria Lockett.” She nodded at the cup in her hand. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“No problem.”

The cabin door opened, and a man stepped down the aisle, “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Wes Giddings, this is Charlie Stein from ST five.”

Stein rose extending his hand once more.

“You must be Wheeler’s man,” Wes shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“That I am.”

“Thanks for the heads up, Wes.” Aria flopped into her seat with a long breath.

“There was no time.” Wes shrugged and put his go-bag on one of the seats.
“Understatement of the year,” Aria muttered under her breath. Wes took a seat at the table on the opposite side of the aisle pulling out a laptop. The pilot came over the intercom announcing their departure.

“Wes, would you call Langley? We're waiting for Krandif's psych profile.” Aria glanced at Wes.

“He's an asshole. I'll save you the red tape.” Stein sat snacking on a bag of peanuts.

“Thanks. I'll go with the official version.”

“Ok. Officially, he's an asshole. What’s the connection?”

“Vlakin was spotted going in The Ice House two nights ago.” Aria handed him the photo.

Stein scanned the photo and then tossed it onto the table. “So, we are headed to Paris.”

Aria collected the photo, her face scrunched, placing it neatly on the stack of papers beside her computer. “If we can find Vlakin, we can find the canisters.”

“Krandif is an enabler, not a terrorist. Which is good, makes him predictable.” Stein slid into the seat directly across from Aria, still popping peanuts in his mouth.

Aria put her elbows on the table clasping her hands together. “He’s a criminal.”

Stein leaned across the table, meeting her gaze “But not a terrorist.”

Wes twisted in his chair closer to join the conversation. ”How do you know?”

“Krandif’s sole motivation is money, always has been, throw him enough cash and he’ll dig up his mother.” Stein rested his leg up onto his thigh and popped a few more peanuts in his  mouth before looking distractedly into the bag.

Bafoon

“Your area of expertise, Stein? Or so has the word on the Hill.” Aria’s focus went back to her computer screen.

Stein nodded his head. “You've been doing your research.”

“Dangerous times.”

“I'd like to know something,” Stein tossed the empty bag of peanuts on the table before putting his arms on the table and facing Aria. “How exactly does a top-rated field agent get stuck behind a desk?”

“A choice.”

“So, it's that simple?”

“It is to me, that simple.” Aria met his gaze. “You've done some research yourself.”

“Like you said, dangerous times.” Stein pulled his gaze away, uncomfortable with the warmth pooling in his gut. “All this data, charts and intel tell you nothing.”

Wes tilted his head, looking to Stein. “Why’s that?”

“In the field, the good guys, that's us, chase the bad guys, and they don't wear black hats.”

Aria glared at Wes and then Stein, “if you recall, I was a field operative. I do know how it works in the field.”

“Then you already know, the bad guys are, however, all alike. They mandate power and respect, and they'll pay top dollar to get it.”

“Not these guys,” Aria shook her head, straightening her back. “The White Guard has other motivations they don't care about money or respect. They believe killing innocent people is vindicated. For them, it is about rage, frustration, and hatred. An excruciating pain they endure and want to share it.”

“You see, that does me no good,” Stein shook his head, tapping his finger on the table. “Let's deal with the facts at hand. One week ago, a German scientist walked away with five large canisters of what we can only assume is a bioweapon. Krandif and Vlakin’s motivation is money.”

“I know that, Stein. I could care less about Vlakinor or Kardif,” Aria rose from her seat moving to the coffee maker.

“Then what are we doing going to Paris? What’s the point?” Stein stood challenging her eyes.

 Aria straightened her shoulders and stepped into his space, “the point is, I want to know who is buying the weapon to use it. Because that person is not interested in money, they have it to spend. They are interested in hurting a lot of people, and I intend to stop them.”


~

The Prophet and the Snow Angel is Coming Dec 7th from eXtasy Books!
We are going on tour, myself and 12 other amazing authors are going on a Holiday Tour starting Dec 6th - Dec 17th!


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Wednesday, December 21, 2016

I'm Dreaming of a Pink Christmas

In high school we were given the assignment to write a story about our family during the holidays. I was a kid and didn’t really appreciate my family at the time. I talked about my family as any teenager would, pointing out the oddities and ridiculousness of tradition. Now that I'm older, I realize the quirks I once saw as character flaws, are actually the threads that will, and do, hold a family together.  

When I look back over the years, some of the best times with my family have been during the holidays. As I have become an adult those times become even more cherished, little pieces of time, nuggets of gold that we carry around in our hearts. 

I have to be honest and state that I struggled with the topic of this post. We all have our favorite Christmas memories. We all also have those memories that are not so merry. Those are the ones we remember more than the good ones. We think of them as scars on our perfect greeting cards. The truth is, those scars make the meaning of Christmas that much more poignant. Those are the events that show us the true meaning of Christmas. 

When I was younger I couldn’t wait to start my life. It was never about what was happening at that moment, it was more about what was ahead of me, the bright, limitless future. As soon as I graduated from high school I moved out on my own. In that time I became fairly estranged from my family and Christmas was just another holiday.  The holidays came and went, and I was alone for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I lived in a one bedroom apartment by myself, and friends were co-workers.  I worked all the time. It was better than sitting in a silent apartment, so of course I worked the holidays. 

In February of the next year I found myself in a predicament and went to my mother’s house to ask for help. No one was home, but I went inside anyway. She and I hadn’t spoken in months, and my visit was unannounced. As I walked through my childhood home it felt different, foreign and like I didn’t belong there. Nothing about the house had changed, and I ventured into the kitchen where I found an overflowing gift basket with my name on it. The dust around the gift told me it had been sitting there for a while, just waiting to be claimed. It was then I realized I had changed. When I left my family, I was of the mindset that I was a girl without a family. As I stood there, it dawned on me that I was wrong. My family was without a daughter. I left the basket unclaimed, and left the house without leaving a note. 

It was time for me to be the daughter who deserved the seat at the family table. It had been saved and left empty, waiting for my return. Seven months passed before I rallied the courage to call my mother and that, to be honest, was out of pure fear of a mother’s wrath. If I didn’t call her that day, I would regret it for the rest of my life. You see, it was August 13th 1994, the day my eldest son was born. I was ready to come home and be part of my family again. 

On Christmas I think about the times I lived without my family, and it makes me cherish every moment even more. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and this is true with holidays as well. You don’t realize what you have until it is gone. So the moral of the story is simple. Enjoy the holidays, cherish your family, savor the time you have. There is no holiday without family, and I use the word family loosely. Family -- meaning those who are loved and important in our lives. Happy Holidays to you all! I will see you in 2017!
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