Adriana Kraft

When it's time to heat things up...

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Book Tour: Rocky Mountain Star #Giveaway #Romance #Contemporary

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(Rocky Mountain Romances, Book 2)

Romance

Date Published: 12.13.2022

Publisher: Dragonbooks Publishing House

 

 

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Did someone say dance like no one is watching? Guess that’s the only
way Tyler CAN dance now. Slip into the pages of the fun and feisty second
book in the Rocky Mountain Romances series.

Tyler Carter has everything she dreams of—she’s the starring
ballerina in a Cirque-du-Soleil type show, a splashy Las Vegas lifestyle,
and there’s nothing tying her down. Until she injures her knee, that
is.

Tyler flees to her family in the little mountain town of Independence
Junction, Colorado, and pretends she’ll get better, until forced to realize
the truth. And forced to confront her past when she smacks right into
Patrick West, the architect restoring the historic Wilkinson house.

Their attraction quickly rekindles because of a one-night tryst they had
the summer before—one neither of them wants to admit to!

But something else gets rekindled. A stalker sets their sights on Tyler and
leaves shocking clues indicating they know exactly who Tyler is, and that
they want her dead. Will Patrick, Tyler’s brother, and a retired
police dog be able to keep Tyler safe?

The fascinating and quirky citizens of Independence Junction come back in
Book 2 of The Rocky Mountain Romances series to show how small-town
relationships can bring out the best and worst in people.

Heart-warming with a splash of Vegas glamour, Book 2 successfully combines
a new-and-old mix of family and townsfolk in a pressure-cooker plot that
never lets up on chuckles, suspense, and romance.

Excerpt

Panting, Tyler braced herself, waiting to catch her breath. She hadn’t known working out with a punching bag would be so strenuous. And she was used to quite a bit from her own training as a dancer. Slowly, she lowered her arms. She could barely lift them. As she turned, her eyes fell on someone. An image of muscular arms around her waist and intertwined legs flashed before her inner eye. Heat shot through her body. Oh great. She was suddenly aware of scattered strands of hair that had come loose from her braid sticking to her sweaty face.

“You!” she gasped.

“I was thinking the same thing,” he answered.

Funny, she remembered the way he smelled, the sensation of his touch, but she couldn’t remember his name.

“Pat,” he said, as though reading her mind. “Patrick West.”

“Tyler—”

“Carter. I remember.”

They looked at each other, memories from the summer flooding back. Along with the dark good looks and toned body, Tyler remembered he was an architect. He was planning the restoration of a historic house in the area. Which explained why he was still in town.

He took off his jacket and sat on the floor. “I didn’t know dancers could work the bag,” he said.

“I didn’t know either, but it’s great for blowing off frustrations.”

He nodded.

She waited for a comment, but he said nothing, just waited until she slid down beside him, leaning back against the wall.

“You a boxer?” she asked out of the blue.

“A little martial arts,” he answered.

“So this dance studio is now a dojo?”

“You know the Japanese word for it.” He looked impressed.

“I work in Vegas with dancers, stunt people, and every kind of physical entertainment professional from all over the world. Of course I know the term.”

The slight, amused smile fell from his face. “If you need the space, I’ll find another place.”

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Release Blitz: Roanoke River Omegas, by Will Okati #LGBTQ+ #Giveaway #NewAdult #ActionAdventure #BoxSet #Romance

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Title:  Roanoke River Omegas

Author: Will Okati

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: January 13, 2023

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 246 pages

Genre: Romance, New Adult, Action Adventure, Box Sets, Paranormal Romance, Gay, Sex/Gender Shifters & MPreg, Single Parent/Pregnancy Romance

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Synopsis

Unusual Omegas and unique Alphas falling in love and finding families? There’s never a dull moment in Roanoke River.
 

Conceivable (Roanoke River Omegas 1)

Omega Jory’s in love with his best friend, Alpha Darius, and Darius has no idea. Darius’s in love with Jory, and Jory has no idea. But when Jory asks Darius to father his baby, everything’s about to explode.
 
Inexplicable (Roanoke River Omegas 2)
Kit had no clue he was pregnant. Now everything’s changing, including his long distance love affair with Deacon. Babies do what they want, when they want. Just like Deacon used to. But now that he’s a father, he’s got to convince Kit he’s in this — and their lives — for keeps.
 
Combustible (Roanoke River Omegas 3)
Long, lean, wild and unconventional for an Omega, Zane rocks and rolls Alpha Grant’s world. Zane can’t be predicted. He can’t be contained. And Grant freaking loves it. Their love affair is gonna be complicated — and downright combustible.
 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2023 Will Okati
Excerpt from Conceivable
 
What did you do with a drunken sailor?
 
Why, anything you wanted, that’s what. You could tie him up tight with a crimson ribbon, dip him in a pool of melted butter, run him through a room of screaming fire alarms, and when he got done with all that, then you could tuck him in bed with an Alpha’s lover. And every last bit of it sounded fine when sung at the top of three dozen-odd throats at Happy Hour on a Friday evening in MacInnes’s pub.
 
Better still when Darius could raise his mostly empty glass and swing it in time with the song. Best of all when tucked into a booth with his best friend beside him, warm as toast and smelling faintly of Omega and largely of burnt-sugar whiskey.
 
As weeknights went, this was a good one.
 
The last lines of the chorus were still echoing off the ceiling when someone who fancied himself a soloist stood on top of a table and started belting out a boozy version of “Danny Boy.” He got a few catcalls and the occasional coaster tossed at him, but he had a decent deep tenor and most of the rowdies settled down to listen. Darius included.
 
Still laughing, still warm, he slid back into the booth he shared with Jory and kicked his legs forward to tangle their feet together. Best friends — closer than blood since they’d met in another bar on weekend passes five years back — they’d always been in each other’s space ever since. Didn’t bother them any that Darius was an Alpha and Jory an Omega. Darius was Navy and Jory part of the Peace Corps, sure, but the military kept everyone on hormone suppressants to cut down on hanky-panky in the ranks, so what did it matter?
 
“Another round?” Darius asked when their impromptu soloist paused to drown his own thirst.
 
Redheaded and usually fair as cream, Jory’s cheeks were cherry pink tonight from the two whiskies and a pint of Guinness he’d already downed, but he gave Darius a blazing grin and raised his empty glass. “You’re on. And I mean it, you’re on. Last round was mine.”
 
Was it? Darius shrugged, not bothered either way. They always took turns. He halfway stood to wave at their waiter — a friendly Beta who could pull pints fast as lightning strikes — then thumped back down in a comfortable slouch. Jory, still grinning, made him laugh. Made him content. Being around him made something inside Darius feel… satisfied. Good.
 
“So,” he said, after tipping back his empty glass in search of just a few more drops. “You were saying, about the kids, before that racket started up?” Jory had gone into teaching kindergarten after getting out of the Reserves, and taken to it like a duck to water.
 
“That they’re adorable. Today I had to teach one of them not to lick the drinking fountain because that wasn’t how it worked. Also? ‘Racket’ my hindquarters, you love it.” Jory’s smile shone smile softer, warmer, teasing. “As if you weren’t singing along.”
 
Darius bent his head, only a little sheepish and only for half a second. He came up with a glint in his eye and clinked his glass against Jory’s. “Shut up.”
 
Jory clinked back. He knew this game. “You shut up.”
 
“Bite me.”
 
“Needs ketchup.”
 
“Kiss my ass.”
 
Jory laughed. “Bend over!”
 
Their pert, pretty little Beta waiter — what was his name, Adam? — rolled his eyes as he swung by their table with two full glasses. “Drown yourself in these, would you?” He softened his words with a gentle love tap on the back of Darius’s dark head and a rustle through Jory’s auburn tangle. “Drink up, boys, order some more, and leave a good tip. I’ve got bills to pay!”
 
“Good thing I have a steady job,” Darius remarked as Adam sped away. He’d left the Navy a year after Jory mustered out and would have settled where his best friend did regardless, but he thanked his lucky stars Jory had picked Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina. Made finding work on the water easy, and Darius had settled into a good hands-on position at the lake. Solid work that left him aching with sore muscles every day, but satisfied down to the bottom of his soul. “Or I wouldn’t be able to afford taking my best friend out for booze-ups at fancy joints like this.”
 
Jory wrinkled his nose. “Speaking of kids, how are the new hires you were talking about?”
 
“Eh, there’s a few bright stars,” Darius said with a shrug. “Some better than others. Time will tell. But they do already know how to use the water fountains. Probably.”
 
“They’re not as cute as a baker’s dozen of toddlers, though.”
 
Darius waggled one hand to and fro. “They probably think so, especially when they’re out looking to score some tail, but nope.”
 
Jory nodded in satisfaction, making him a pleasure to look at. Darius had always liked his friend’s face, not exactly handsome but friendly and open but with fine, well-shaped bones. Very dissimilar to himself, with his tall leanness, his longer features and darker complexion. His general attitude was sharper-edged, more serious. But whenever Darius got too stuck in his head, Jory pried him out, and whenever Jory’s warm heart got a little too bruised, Darius was there to pick him up and settle him down.
 
What he’d do without Jory in his life, Darius didn’t know. And he didn’t want to know.
 
Darius downed his drink and wiped the Guinness foam away with a sigh of satisfaction. “So did the kid wrap his head around how water fountains worked, in the end?”
 
“Hmm?”
 
Darius cocked his head. “I said…”
 
But Jory’s attention had drifted. He did that sometimes — wandered off in thought and lost himself in daydreams. Darius didn’t worry about it, as he always came back, but every now and again it was interesting to try and track what’d caught Jory’s fancy. He let his gaze go slightly out of focus, turned toward Jory’s line of sight, and…
 
Ah. There it was. Courting couples. Of which there were plenty, no matter where you went, but especially in MacInnes’s when the beer was flowing and the whiskey bit back. Darius followed Jory’s regard, jumping from pair to pair.
 
First an Omega couple — interesting, you didn’t see that too often — in their, hmm, mid sixties? Yes, and comfortable with each other in a way that said they’d been an odd couple for decades. Nice. From there, a couple of Betas who were plainly just friends, but with a few saucy benefits like the hands tucked in each others’ back pockets. A thirtyish Omega buying a jar of spicy brined pickles for a laughing Alpha who rode him piggyback and kissed his ear, and a widower Darius knew who always drank one Long Island iced tea with a picture of his mate on the table with him.
 
Humanity, in all its infinite variety.
 
And then, something Darius knew Jory would zero in on as special. An Alpha with an Omega on his arm, the two of them so in love it almost rang from the rooftop and echoed in everyone’s ears. Total hearts in their eyes, and eyes only for each other. Young, maybe on the uphill climb to twenty-five, but the Alpha had a toddler on one hip and the Omega’s stomach was proudly curved, maybe six months gone with a second cub. He rested one hand on the swell, an unconscious gesture but one that spoke of pleasure and pride. His Alpha glanced down and wrapped his free arm around the Omega’s shoulders, giving him a cuddle.
 
Darius shook his head, but with a lopsided smile. The whole effect was so sweet it’d give a man diabetes, but he wouldn’t complain too much about it. He glanced at Jory to see that Jory had noticed him in turn. “Busted?”
 
“Nosy,” Jory said, giving his shin a gentle nudge under the table.
 
“Look who’s talking.”
 
“But that’s all right,” Jory continued, undaunted. “You can buy the next round. Again.”
 
Darius snorted. “Anyone ever tell you you’re not a cheap date?”
 
“Every now and again.” Jory checked his watch. “Actually, make it a cup of coffee instead. It’s getting late, and I need to sober up.”
 
“Why? We’ve walked home three sheets to the wind before.”
 
“I have my reasons,” Jory said without further explanation, leaving Darius to wonder what he meant by that. It seemed to be something that made him a little nervous. He pushed his glass back and forth in the circle of condensation it’d left on the table, but didn’t drop any handy clues. “Did you see the couple with one in arms and one on the way?”
 
Darius nodded. Of course he had. Ah. Two plus two came together. “Is that the water fountain kid?”
 
Jory’s smile blossomed, warm and pleased. “It is. He’s adorable, huh? He wants to name his baby brother Mr. Ed.”
 
A swallow of beer almost went down the wrong way. Darius coughed. “He wants to what, now? How does he know Mr. Ed? I don’t even remember where I heard of Mr. Ed.”
 
“No telling.” Jory laughed too. “His parents are just hoping he’ll come around to plain old ‘Corey’ when he’s born.”
 
He fell quiet again, but Darius could tell he was still watching the couple. Darius had to admit they made entertaining viewing. The baby must have been awake, inside. The Omega patted his belly, trying to soothe him, and the Alpha tracked his movements with one palm, fascination written across his face. Little judo master, Darius thought the Alpha said at one point. He winced in imagined empathy, and — the strangest thing — a flicker of jealousy.
 
Jealousy? Darius frowned down at the remnants of his Guinness. He’d been a bachelor since he presented as Alpha, and hadn’t really minded. When he needed company or he went into rut he knew where to find what he needed. Aside from that, it didn’t seem so important. He had Jory, and they kept each other busy. Besides, Jory had decided to stay on military-grade suppressants when he went civilian to keep himself level and lower the risk of getting pregnant by accident, so it’d never been an issue. But now, Darius wondered.
 
No. He knew. He’d seen that look on Omega faces before, and it surprised him to see it on Jory’s, but then again it wasn’t a shock. It looked… natural. Nice. Darius tapped the back of Jory’s hand with one finger. “I see. You’ve been thinking about it.”
 
Jory, still captivated by the scene, raised his shoulder a fraction of an inch. “On and off.” He shook his head and focused, looking back at Darius. “No, that’s a lie of omission. I have been thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about it. I want that, and I can’t stop wanting it.”
 
“A baby?”
 
“Enough that I stopped taking my suppressants,” Jory said, simple and clear. He settled his hands around his glass. “Three days ago. You know suppressants. They start working fast, and they stop just as fast. Should be gone by the weekend.”
 
Darius blinked. Jory really meant business, then. The thought fascinated him in a way that surprised Darius. The mental image of Jory as round and curved and full as that Omega gave him a jolt like electricity applied deep down inside, something that sparked too much heat to ignore.
 
He stamped that down carefully, tightly, and securely. Darius had never been immune to Jory’s charms. He’d had dreams, fantasies. Wishes. Desires. But he’d refused to let himself take one single step past plain and simple friendship. Nothing that’d start them down the road to a messy breakup. He’d seen it happen before — too many times — when friends hooked up. Hell, he’d encouraged Jory to date other people. He’d been glad that Jory was living with Alpha Whateverhisnamewas when he moved into town so the question of sharing an apartment couldn’t come up.
 
Darius realized he was staring. To cover his reaction, he cleared his throat and hurried on. “Fertile. No kidding. Who’re you going to get to be the father?”
 
“That’s the thing,” Jory said, his gaze fixed calmly on Darius. “I was hoping it would be you.”
 

Purchase

Changeling Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Meet the Author

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true. Also still one of the quiet ones to watch out for, but life — like storytelling — is always a work in progress.

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New Release Blitz! Rory & Ink by Alexa Piper @ProwlingPiper #paranormal #Romance #M/M

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Title: Rory & Ink

Series: Monster Apocalypse 4

Author: Alexa Piper

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: January 13

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 145 pages

Genre: Romance, Thriller/Suspense, Action Adventure, Futuristic, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, Urban Fantasy, Alien Encounters, Alternative Universe, Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay, Magic

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Synopsis

Rory has never been the kind of person who enjoys fights or violence, but when a member of his newfound family is kidnapped, he will not just stand by and do nothing. No, Rory will use his still new and not entirely welcome magic to help. And when that is done, Rory will once more put all his efforts into becoming a trophy mate to his handsome blue husband, and he will worship said husband from the tips of his horns to his paw feet.

Inkiri has never been happier in his life. His human mate accepts him, and not just that, Rory loves him. And while Rory seemed afraid at first, he will stop at nothing to protect the people near and dear to him. All Inkiri can hope is that he will prove himself worthy for such an extraordinary mate.

With his future life as trophy mate almost within reach, Rory might be forgetting something that he has to do, but that’s okay. There are people in his life now who will remind him of all the things that are important and of all the things that aren’t.

Content warning: While this series is a comedy, this book alludes to physical and sexual abuse. It is not experienced on page, but it is a reality of a side character’s life.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Alexa Piper

Rory

It would be fine, I told myself, everything would be fine. I could do this. Once, but not because I would die the first time. I was going to be brave this once, because someone I cared about was in trouble and needed help. Starting right after we had Kinnek back, I would stop caring about people, because I would ask the presence if it would turn me into a shrub, a really fancy one with tiny berries and no attachments whatsoever.

And of course, when I wondered whether shrubbery was in fact a goal I could aim for, I wondered whether Inkiri would mind. If I were a shrub.

The presence was mildly amused, Inkiri locked eyes with me and told me he would protect me, and Vergis squeezed my hands to let me know I needed to do magic.

“Dispense,” he mumbled, because that’s what he’d started saying since sometimes, I got distracted and didn’t… dispense right away.

Fudge, but if it had been anyone but Vergis’s dad we were going to save, I would have told Vergis that I was not an effing paper towel dispenser.

Get us close to where Kinnek is, I told the magic even as I mentally waved it over to power up Vergis.

The presence — the land — acknowledged that, and off we were.

There were ten of us, all told. Vergis, Inkiri, and Lissir were the ones the land cared about most, I felt that. It also cared about Charles, either because he was Vergis’s dad or because he had already come to protect me once during the raspberry incident that had ended with Charles revealing he had a bunker and my guys liking the concept so much they’d imprisoned the cola asshat in there.

It is good he is here since two of your knights stayed with your mate’s blood, the land told me as we hopped through the veils.

Well, okay. The land could be prickly if it didn’t like a person, and it didn’t like that Zeddira was requiring medical attention.

You need to protect everyone, though, even Luëris and the other protectors, I told it. Remember, no bloodletting.

Remember how I told you such a thing is not within my power, Rory. We are here.

Here was not the dark camp made up of tents and orc-like Koa Esher with a cloud of doom looming above I’d expected, but instead a very fancy estate. It was almost a castle, from the size of it, from the gray, ivy-encrusted stone I spied from where we’d arrived… which was a golf course, one of those sandy pits, and the castle was right across a small and no doubt artificial lake, framed by formerly neatly groomed trees that had taken the chance and were growing wild now, with mistletoe in the upper branches. The lawns that were supposed to be perfectly green and flawlessly mowed were mottled, grasses growing there now and making any games a thing of the past.

“Where?” Charles asked.

He was calm and held his gun as if he was ready to use it. He was. And he might. Violence might happen. I needed to get used to the idea.

The other protectors and Inkiri closed in around me and Vergis immediately, and Lissir unsheathed one of his sickle-like swords. He got a look in his fiery eyes that I’d not seen there before, and his mouth pressed to a thin line.

I turned to the presence, and it reacted immediately.

I will guide you. There are many of them here, a lot who have the strange magic.

I started walking where the land was pointing me — toward the extremely large house or small castle — but Inkiri stopped me. “Tell us.”

Purchase

Changeling Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iTunes

Meet the Author

Alexa (she/her) has a lot of characters living in her head and wanting their stories told. Many of these people get snarky and won’t stop complaining if Alexa is too slow writing them, which means that for this author, sleep is a luxury. Consequently, Alexa is a coffee addict, but she is sure she has it under control (six cups of coffee are normal in a morning, right? Right!?)

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Why Willow? #Giveaway #MFRWauthor #BookHooks

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Our monthly autographed print book giveaway for January is Willow Smoke (Riders Up, Book Three). Contest details at the end of the post, and of course, Willow Smoke is always free to read on Kindle Unlimited.

Be sure to check out the rest of this week’s Book Hooks authors!

Why Willow?

When we lived in northern Minnesota, our forty acres included a small marshy area that grew willow shrubs. I always cut some branches each spring and set them in a vase inside to open as pussy willows, usually the first blossoms of the year. My husband dabbled in wood carving while we lived there, and gnarled willow sticks made inviting projects to carve, sand, and stain.

Enter Daisy Matthews, the waif Cassie rescued through her Chicago group home job in Riders Up, Book One. By Book Three, Daisy is tall and lanky and holding her own as an assistant trainer at Chicago’s Arlington Park.

We did not have a title when we began writing this book, but we did know our characters. The much older Nick Underwood has left the stock market, where he made a killing, and he now runs a small company crafting handmade wooden canoes. When he first encounters Daisy in the Arlington Park track barn, he doesn’t know her name, but he’s struck by her smoky eyes and her tall willowy frame. He decides to call her Willow. Our title was born, but we had no idea how important this small shrub genus would become in our story.

As the story gradually made its way onto the page, we sent Nick and Daisy on a canoeing trip to northern Minnesota’s boundary waters, which we so often enjoyed ourselves. On their way home, he stops at a friend’s home (forty acres and a farmhouse, imagine that!). Daisy has often watched Nick working the wood at his shop, and his friend finds an appropriate willow stick and talks her into getting started with it.

We won’t give away the story’s ending here – I’ll just say that Daisy’s willow stick plays an important role when the chips are down.

When the chips are down, there’s nobody there.

BLURB

Willowy blonde Daisy Matthews has survived the Chicago streets with this mantra, but she’s unprepared for the much older Nick Underwood’s urgent pursuit.  The wealthy businessman receives a thoroughbred in payment for a bad debt and is thrust into Daisy’s world.  She teaches him about horse racing; he teaches her about love.  When Daisy’s seamy brother-in-law threatens Nick’s safety, she doggedly tries to stop him by herself, but flees to the familiar streets when he attacks. Can Nick find her in time – and if he does, will she still want him?

REVIEWS

Five stars at Amazon “Adriana Kraft has created memorable characters that linger long after the story has ended and I’ve closed the book. She has done what an author should – brought me into the book’s world and made me care about the characters so that my world will not be the same as before their foray into it.” Sheila G.

Five stars at Goodreads “Suspenseful, intriguing and truly romantic! What a fabulous story of the blending of two worlds… the plot twists and turns and keeps you on the edge of your seat and the pages turning.” Risha C “…dreams can become reality, love can transcend age… Exciting, engaging and very entertaining story. The character interplay is spot on and the story is extremely well written.” Donna H.

EXCERPT

Here’s the opening scene:

“I won’t let anything hurt you.” Daisy Matthews finished wrapping the ankles of the chestnut mare and sat back on her haunches to evaluate her work. The mare’s ankles were cooler than they’d been two hours earlier.

It wasn’t easy to convince a horse to stand in buckets of ice, but after three years of being a groom and an exercise rider, she could do it about as well as anybody at Arlington Park. At least that was what her boss said when he promoted her to assistant trainer.

Daisy grinned. There wasn’t much prestige associated with being an assistant trainer for a fellow with a string of only twenty-some claimers and allowance horses, but it was something, particularly for a girl from the wrong side of the tracks.

RainbowBlaze took a step forward.

“I know.” Daisy groaned. “Step one: pay attention. Sorry, I got lost daydreaming. You’re right. Taking care of you is an important job.” She chuckled. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.”

“Hey kid, do you always talk to horses?”

The horse reared and pawed.

“It’s okay, girl.” Daisy kept her voice soft and ran her hand slowly along the mare’s neck.

When the mare had stopped trembling, Daisy stepped out of the stall, shaded her eyes from the sun and faced the interloper. She scowled at the man’s new sneakers, monogrammed shirt and neatly pressed slacks. He looked like he’d be more at home on a sailboat than in a barn.

The man peered over wire-rimmed glasses like he knew something she didn’t. Or was he appraising her? Why? His dark hair set off a chiseled face; it was hard to guess his age, but she could see a few gray hairs at his temples. He was money. Understated, but money. Probably the stock market. What was he doing in her barn?

She thrust her jaw at him. “So who the hell are you? Don’t you know better than to sneak up on someone who’s working with a horse?”

BUY LINK

Willow Smoke is available on Amazon as a print book or an e-book, and is always free to read at Kindle Unlimited:

CONTEST

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Why had he come? #Sunday8 #wewriwa #SundaySnippet #MFRWAuthor #Contest

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Our giveaway of an autographed print copy of Willow Smoke lasts all month – of course, you can always read it free at Kindle Unlimited!

Be sure to visit Weekend Writing Warriors to check out the rest of today’s exciting excerpts!

Contest details after our Sunday Snippet:

Riders Up

Book Three:

Willow Smoke

This May/September romantic suspense follows the teenage waif from the group home where Cassie worked in Book One. No longer a teenager, Daisy is carving a life for herself in spite of threats from her past.

EXCERPT

The sputtering sounds of the apartment buzzer penetrated Daisy’s sleep. She rolled over and pulled a pillow over her head. The buzzer continued ringing sporadically. “Go away,” she grumbled. “It’s Monday. It’s my day off.”

Scrambling off the futon, she grabbed her robe and poked her arms through the armholes as she strode angrily toward the entry. She’d have to remember to get the landlord to fix that damn buzzer. Maybe she should just snip the wires.

Daisy peered through the peephole and grew deathly still. Why had he come? She didn’t want him to know this part of her world. With fingers trembling slightly, she turned the knob and opened the door.

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A Piece of Ourselves #RomanticSuspense #Giveaway #MFRWAuthor

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Our autographed print giveaway this month is Heat Wave, Book Two in Riders Up. Contest details below, after the excerpt.

There’s always a piece of us in any story we write, but I suspect there are far more than usual in our Riders Up series. You already know both my husband and I loved horses long before we met, and you might know that as adults we were finally able to own or partially own six horses, one or two at a time. Five of these were racehorses; the sixth was not, and we’ve saved him for the final book in the series, Detour Ahead.

So it goes without saying we’ve poured what we learned about caring for and training race horses into this series, but there’s more. Just as Cassie’s Hope (Book One) drew on our ancestor’s family farms in McHenry County Illinois, Heat Wave draws on early family history in rural central Iowa, somewhat north of Des Moines. It’s set in the year 2000. Iowa farm values had dropped precipitously during the 1980s and were beginning to recover, but many family farms were still struggling and went under, especially as corporations moved in to purchase them. We used this knowledge to place our widowed heroine’s family farm in danger and force her to make a bold decision.

Our hero, Ed Harrington? We ourselves have never been horse trainers, though we co-owned our racehorses with a local trainer. But Ed has struggled with alcohol, and Heat Wave focuses on his recovery journey – a journey we’ve walked alongside some close family members. They helped us out with those sections of the book for authenticity. We hope some of the depth, struggle, and love from our own journey shines through as Ed and Maggie come together to save her farm.

EXCERPT

Ed didn’t blink, staring at the single shot-glass of whiskey and a stein of beer sitting on a tiny, circular table.

He gripped its pedestal between his knees. The darkened corner of Mel’s Tavern in Beaverhill provided a welcome hiding place. Almost as good as a cave.

He’d driven for hours after leaving the farm—after running as quickly as he possibly could from that menacing woman. That night had been spent in his car…

He ran a finger around the rim of the shot glass. Long moments dragged by while his mind resembled a blank slate. He knew if he drank enough, he could make those blank periods last longer. Blackouts—they enticed him and terrorized him. He would be able to function, but not remember. Was that bliss, or a coward’s way out? It wouldn’t take long, if he only had the courage to take that first drink.

Hah. So many people in those meetings he’d been attending talked about the courage necessary to avoid that next drink. Here he was asking himself if he had the guts to lift a single glass to his lips and let the stinging, hot whiskey glide down his throat. He could practically feel the familiar burning. So why didn’t he just gulp the damn stuff down and get on with it?

He could leave them all behind. No Maggie harping at him, wanting more than he could give. No worrying about which kid was going to get injured next. No wondering when they’d all figure out he didn’t measure up—that he was some kind of fake, a figment of their imagination.

Ed glanced furtively around with renewed awareness. His senses sharpened. How long had he been sitting like that, gawking at his future? The waitress and bartender were staring at him as if he were an alien. He scratched the two-day growth of beard. He swore inwardly at the booze. He swore at the memories.

Why couldn’t he just walk away from her? He didn’t owe her anything. Not anymore. He’d paid his debt. But she wanted more, much more.

The bouncy, buxom waitress stood in front of him. “Listen, Bud, if you’re gonna drink, drink up. We’re gonna be closing soon. And don’t forget my tip.” Leaning over, jiggling huge breasts, she whispered, “Or maybe you’ve got something else in mind. You’ve got possibilities. I can see that.”

She withered under his icy glare. “Okay, I get the message, Bud. Why don’t you just get out of here? You give me the willies. Any man who buys whiskey and beer and then just stares at them for more than an hour can’t be much of a man in my book.” The waitress brushed back curly brown hair and then flounced off to serve other customers.

Ed hardly knew she’d left. He wet his lips. Trying to steady his hand, he reached for the whiskey glass. Lifting it, he paused, and then slammed it down, splashing its contents over the scarred table.

He might be able to run from all of them, but he knew he’d never be able to run from himself.

Pushing his chair back, Ed stumbled getting up. He threw some coins on the table and rushed toward the exit.

Outside, Ed gulped for air. His hand shook like some ancient reminder of what used to be and could so easily have been again. He placed a hand in his pocket and curled his fingers around the ninety-day chip.

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