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Still spooky…#MFRWHooks

Halloween and Samhain may be over, but the trouble is just beginning for Matt and Nancy. In this excerpt, Nancy’s staking out a local bar in disguise…

TheUnmasking_MEDEXCERPT

Out of the corner of her eye, Nancy watched Bayfield accept his drink and change. His gaze swept above her trying to locate a seat in the crowded tavern. His eyes lowered, meeting hers. She tried to control her racing pulse. He shook his head. And then his eyes bugged.

“Ms. Cr—”

Before he could mutter another syllable, Nancy leaped to her feet, wrapped her arms around his neck, and planted the biggest, wettest kiss she could muster on his mouth, swallowing the rest of her name and his breath. He stumbled backward. She refused to let him go, imprinting her lips on his.

She started to release him, but then one of his hands pressed against her back and the other curved over her buttocks. Her eyes widened. Professor Bayfield was kissing her back! Not about to pass up this opportunity, Nancy closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment.

His tongue pushed into her open mouth; she greeted it with her own. He brought a hand between them and squeezed a breast. Her eyes flew open. Would she burn up right there in the damn bar? As if he sensed her changing mood, Bayfield’s eyes sprang as wide open as hers. He started to pull away.

Applause and hoots broke out from bar patrons. Steins were raised in salute.

Nancy and Matt looked sheepishly at the other patrons. “Don’t say a word, Bayfield,” Nancy said, still holding him close. “I can explain everything, but we’ve got to get out of here, now.” He started to open his mouth. Brushing her lips across his, she whispered, “Please, don’t say my name. It could be a matter of life and death.”

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BLURB

Whose mask will crumble first—
the enigmatic professor of Celtic Studies,
the undercover cop masquerading as a co-ed,
or the campus stalker,
biding his time to strike again?

Is anthropology professor Matt Bayfield the Blackthorn College rapist, or a potential ally? Aloof and unapproachable, Matt has academic ambitions. He can’t escape Blackthorn College soon enough, and he doesn’t want any entanglements to slow down his exit.

Nancy Appleby would like nothing more than to solve the string of campus rape cases before Thanksgiving so she can go home. The last thing she wants is a relationship to complicate her life—but she’ll settle for a fling, especially when the sex sizzles.

The stalker has his own carefully crafted timetable, with a special date just for Nancy. Can Matt and Nancy force him out of his hidey-hole before it’s too late?
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A Ghostly Visit #MySexySaturday #MFRWAuthor

Welcome to My Sexy Saturday! Halloween is almost here ~ Martha Richards is about to be visited by a pair of very sexy ghosts!

EXCERPT

PurgatoryPointCoverShe needed to stay warm in the winter, and she wasn’t about to flee back to civilization any time soon. It had taken all her gumption and most of her inheritance to buy Purgatory Point; she wasn’t about to give up because of a chill in the air.

That decided, she closed her eyes and welcomed the drifting sensations of dozing.

He’d have strong hands. She’d have soft hands. Dan’s fingers. Natalie’s fingers. As if from a distance, Martha recognized her own soft moans. Her loins ached. It was an old ache, yet a familiar ache.

Her nipples pebbled and strained against the flannel gown. Fingers brushed against her inner thigh. She squeezed her legs tightly together, trapping them.

Whose fingers? Hers? His? Natalie’s? She was dreaming. She knew she was. She had to be dreaming. She let herself sink farther into the darkness.

“That a girl,” came a soothing whisper penetrating her fuzzy brain. “You’re a passionate woman. Let it out. Cherish your passion. Let me help. Let me touch you.”

“Natalie?” Martha whispered, unable to awaken.

A soft chuckle answered. “Not this time. Maybe later if you allow yourself. Now let me help you.”

BLURB

A tender ghost story and a sizzling erotic romance with a splash of BDSM, Mistress of Purgatory Point is also the deeply moving chronicle of the mid-life sexual awakening of a stoic widow who thought she’d already experienced her one allotted love. One man, two women and two ghosts keep love’s fires burning through the deep chill of a North Woods winter—but which love will hold the key?

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Print: Mistress of Purgatory Point and Return to Purgatory Point are available in a single print volume, Purgatory Point

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Get Hooked on The Breeder’s Cup #MFRWHooks #Horseracing

Welcome to Book Hooks, a Wednesday offering by members of Marketing For Romance Writers to share a little taste of our work and entice you into wanting more! Click on the links at the end to travel to other Book Hook posts, and enjoy!

The Breeder’s Cup is less than two weeks away – do you even know what it is? Perhaps you’ve heard of The Kentucky Derby, or The Triple Crown, premier thoroughbred stakes races. The Breeders cup is the pinnacle of U.S. thoroughbred racing, so we thought it was time to focus on our romantic suspense horse racing series, Riders Up. Here is the blurb and seven paragraphs from Book One: Cassie’s Hope.

BLURB

Cassie's-Hope-eBook-webWhat happens when a fiercely loyal widowed half-Ute cowboy meets a fiery redhead with an Irish temper to match? Cassidy O’Hanlon – Cassie, to her friends – has set aside her Chicago career for six months to train racehorses for her dad after his stroke.

Furious the interloper has shipped in a ringer from the Chicago circuit to his Wyoming turf, Rancher/trainer Clint Travers sets out to put her in her place. Sparks fly immediately, but after their rocky start, the two quickly forge a passionate relationship, and he follows her to Chicago.

When it becomes clear someone is drugging Cassie’s horse, Clint sets out to solve the mystery, but storms off in a cloud of wounded pride when suspicions turn to him.

Can love trump pride?

EXCERPT

Clint eased into his truck to head toward his motel. He would be eating alone again and then going over pedigrees or reading a novel. There were those connected with the track who partied hard every night. He wasn’t one of them. Apparently neither was the red-head.

What would she have done if he’d invited her to dinner? He pressed his lips together tightly. No doubt she would have given him a tongue lashing. Damn, she was a hard woman to get close to.

She had piqued his curiosity. It certainly was unusual to see a woman haul a horse halfway across the country to race. And a damn pretty woman at that. She had to have a lot of guts. He’d give her that.

He was looking forward to the big race. And he was looking forward to seeing how the big city tigress would handle victory or defeat.

He turned his truck toward Evanston. What would she do if he showed up at the café next to her motel around dinner time? It hadn’t been difficult to obtain that information from a secretary in the track office; they needed to know where folks stayed in town in case there was an emergency at the track.

He’d stay away from her, though he liked the way she blushed every time she got her dander up. Which seemed quite often.

Would she have as much fire in bed?

 

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REVIEWS

Five Stars at Goodreads: “An emotional roller-coaster, with twists and turns you never see coming! …I feel I know them, I took their journey with them. I felt their pain, their sadness, their struggles, and most of all their love. And that is the mark of a truly good book.” Faith

Five Stars at Amazon: “I have another favorite book for my shelf! … I love this book!!!! I laughed, cried, got angry and even said a few choice words while reading it, but to me that’s great writing.” Dorothy C

 

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© 2014 Adriana Kraft. All Rights Reserved.