Tag Archives: friends to lovers

Guest Promotion–Going Home, At Your Age? by Jacqueline Diamond

Her hidden past is about to explode! Sara, an artist who’s turning 50, returns to her hometown for Christmas to face her estranged sisters—and the man she left behind—with a stunning secret. A compulsively readable tale of love and redemption packed with heartwarming surprises, Going Home, At Your Age? is a standalone book in the “Sisters, Lovers & Second Chances” series by USA Today bestselling author Jacqueline Diamond.

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EXCERPT

In her life, Sara Matchett had committed three huge, earth-thumping, wildly stupid mistakes. She planned to confront them, wrestle them to the ground and, in the process, probably commit a whole swarm of new and even more idiotic screwups.

Then leave her hometown for the last time.

Why not? At nearly fifty, she’d reached the perfect age to turn her world, and everyone else’s, upside down.

“I think that’s a worthwhile goal, regardless of which secrets you plan to unload,” said seventy-one-year-old Aunt Jewell, clear-wrapping a plate of cookies in her kitchen. “In fact, I’m dying to hear about them. What would Christmas be without a soap opera?”

“And I have a lot of experience in the field,” Sara conceded as she snapped a lid atop the cranberry-orange stuffing casserole she’d prepared.

She wished the kitchen had a mirror so she could check whether her green velvet dress was too fussy. Were the stars she’d embroidered ridiculous on a grown woman? “If I ever write my memoirs, I’ll call them, I Was a Teenage Drama Queen.”

“Why limit yourself to the past when you have such talent?” deadpanned her aunt, who sported her own original outfit, red with sparkles cascading along the bodice and skirt. She’d tucked a glittery comb into the dyed jet-black hair. Sara hoped that, in another twenty years, she’d have as much panache as her aunt.

“I’m not sure I’m as gifted as that.” Hearing the quaver in her voice, Sara swept into the living room, ready to head out the door. Might as well get it over with.

Until this moment, she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on exactly what might happen when she arrived at the family celebration and set the record straight with her sisters. Not that Sara wished to dampen anyone’s holiday, but they deserved to learn why she hadn’t been part of their little world in Rancho Allegro, California, for thirty years…

Also, she didn’t plan to miss Jewell’s upcoming marriage, which was the main reason for her extended visit. After a decade of widowhood, her aunt was remarrying and had requested that Sara, the only one of her three nieces to share her artistic talents, help prepare for the event in late January….

Sara yanked her thoughts back to today’s planned gathering. This would involve people new to her, including her sisters’ bridegrooms and their offspring from previous marriages. Well, she could tolerate having an audience. Just as long as she didn’t have to see the one person who knew too much, and had hurt her more than almost all the others put together.

Although Dr. Nate Patton shared a medical practice with her sister, Cody, there was no reason for Sara to run into him. Not today, at least. He’d no doubt be celebrating the holiday with his relatives.

USA Today bestselling author Jacqueline Diamond has sold medical romances, romantic comedies, mysteries and Regency romances—more than one hundred titles! A former Associated Press reporter and TV columnist, Jackie has been honored with a Romantic Times Career Achievement Award. Her popular series include Safe Harbor Medical Romances and Downhome Doctors.

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RELEASE DAY for Aebleskiver by Annika

Annika Nilsdatter juggles her new manager position at the Riverside Bakery owned by her best friend, Glynna, and being courted by Erich von Griswald, son of the town’s most prominent banker. A friend, the object of her young affections from her growing-up years, arrives in town. Suddenly, she is being flattered by the attentions of two handsome men to the detriment of the business. Guilt plagues her, but, just for a little while, she wants to feel special.

Levka Maksimillian, an undercover Pinkerton agent, is surprised to run into Annika in the town where he’s been assigned a case. At least, he’s in disguise so she didn’t recognize him. But when he’s injured, he has to rely on his good friend’s sister to nurse him back to health. Levka doesn’t want to put Annika in danger, but he has to heal fast. His role in hunting down the head of a theft operation is essential. Will the need for secrecy and their close proximity create a false attraction or a lasting love?

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Guest Release–The Editor’s Kisses by Kara O’Neal

LOGLINE: A budding suffragette agrees to a fake courtship with the editor for a job…not love.

BLURB:

One kiss changes the whole game…

 Constance Forrester is a suffragette determined to change society. When Stephen Dawson, her school chum, starts a newspaper, she asks Stephen to take a risk and employ her as a journalist.

Stephen immediately turns her down. But his interactions with Constance have made the town princess, Madeline Talbut, curious. Stephen has loved Madeline for years, and he concocts a plan: enter into a fake courtship with Constance, and in return, Constance can be a journalist for his newspaper.

It’s a chance Constance can’t pass up. So what if she has to attend parties and withstand Stephen’s heart-melting kisses? A suffragette must forge through barriers, but when Stephen changes the game, Constance finds herself the object of the editor’s desire…

Book Purchase Link: https://books2read.com/u/31Y1ya

EXCERPT:

Setting: The Talbut Parlor

The Problem: An annoying parlor game

Madeline’s spinning of Constance was a little rough, but Stephen held his tongue. When their hostess let go, Constance fumbled for a moment before Stephen raised himself up and yanked her into his lap.

The shouts of excitement and delight that went around the room nearly deafened him. People playfully called out “cheater”, but Stephen didn’t care, especially when Constance whisked off her mask and looked immensely relieved to see he’d successfully caught her.

They headed to the closet without fuss. Constance almost looked as if she was dying to climb inside. She probably wanted to get the farce over with.

Once they were squeezed into the confining space, with their chests pressed together in a way Stephen had only fantasized about, she said, “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done—”

He covered her mouth with his hand, having dislodged it from his side. Then he leaned near her ear. “They might be able to hear us,” he whispered.

She flinched.

He lowered his arm, and she let out a slow breath. He wished he could see her face. For more reasons than to satisfy his worry she was all right.

He did everything he could to ignore the touch of her body along his front. He tried not to remember how she looked, how her eyes lit up, how her expression sharpened when she was interested in something. Why had he watched her all night?

But he knew. He knew very well. She was captivating. Intriguing. And so damned lovely.

Why was he having feelings for her? Wasn’t his love for Madeline strong enough to withstand attraction for another woman? But if it was, he would be in the closet with his hostess and not the lady he pretended to the world held his fancy.

He had to kiss her. He had to discover if this attachment was real. Besides, if he didn’t kiss her, everyone would wonder why. And for some strange reason, he needed every fellow out there to understand Constance Forrester was his. He closed his eyes and realized his attitude was no better than a caveman’s. But the need to possess and brand raced through him without pause, and he couldn’t fathom how to check it. Except to kiss her and get her out of his system once and for all.

“Constance,” he uttered. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

She flinched again.

“I won’t hurt you, I swear it. But if I don’t kiss you…they’ll all question us and our…attachment.” He was an ass. He was using their agreement to coax her into acquiescence, and while he knew it, and was ashamed of it, he continued. “It will only be for a second. I’ll just brush my lips with yours.”

In the darkness, he felt her slight nod against his chin. His heart pounded at her quiet surrender.

When she pulled back as far as the space would allow and lifted her head to his, heat slashed through him. He’d never needed a kiss as much as he needed hers.

Madeline had kissed him. Once. Behind the schoolhouse when they were sixteen. And that moment hadn’t caused nearly the anticipation this one did.

He lowered his head and swallowed her gasp. It wasn’t a brush, even though he only set his lips on hers. It was a fire. A shot of whiskey that whipped through him and pooled in his gut. He deepened the connection, and she let him, sighing and sinking into him despite already being as close to him as he could get her.

He melted. He needed to move to the ground and cover her, press her down and make her his. He used his tongue, tasting her. She capitulated instantly and opened her mouth under his. He took what she allowed without hesitation as his free hand came up to grip her waist.

The damn closet was too small. His left hand was wedged between her side and the slender door. But though he couldn’t get his arms around her, he didn’t stop the kiss. It went on and on, stealing his breath, tightening his chest and making him doubt everything he’d ever known about his heart.

Rapid footsteps had him surging backward, and he knocked his head on the wall.

The door flew open, and cool air blasted his cheeks. He and Constance fell out of the space, their limbs tangling as they tried to right themselves.

Peals of laughter rung around them as Stephen reached out a hand to balance her. She latched on as if she didn’t want to let go, and his muscles vibrated with hope she had enjoyed the moment as he had.

It had taken less than a few seconds for him to realize kissing her had been the wrong thing to do. But also the most right, most perfect, most sound judgement he’d ever made in his life.

As those who’d crowded around the entrance to the kitchen went roaring with laughter back into the parlor, he gazed at Constance. And his world tilted.

Her flushed cheeks and bright eyes made his heart constrict with an emotion he was too afraid to name at the moment. But he knew what it was. He knew.

How in the devil had it happened? Was he a fool? A fickle man?

He swallowed. “Do you want to leave?”

And before his eyes, he witnessed a transformation that set his blood on fire. Determination changed her expression, and she lifted her chin.

“Certainly not. I’m quite all right, I assure you.” She gave a shake to her skirts. “We’ve a job to do, Stephen Dawson, and I’ll not let you down.”

She exited the kitchen with a swirl of satin, and he followed with less sure steps. She wouldn’t let him down, he knew it. But he feared he might disappoint her, for if she knew the direction of his thoughts, she would never forgive him. Constance Forrester had no time for any man. She had plans. Plans that didn’t include caring for the heart of the newspaper editor.

Born and raised in Texas, I chose to make the state the setting for my first series. From the food to the fun, like floating the rivers, it is the fire in my blood that inspires me. My family and friends take center stage in my books. My sisters and best friends are my heroines, and my husband created my favorite hero. Love and family are the point of my stories, and I seek to entertain, relieve stress, and inspire people. Books can take one on a journey that one can relive over and over. I am extremely grateful to those authors who did that very thing for me. I learned and I fell in love with their words and characters. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

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Blog – The Story Continues — http://www.karaoneal.com/the-story-continues

Guest Promotion–Love Proof by Luanna Stewart

BLURB

Unemployed photojournalist Raynor Elliot stops at a bakery near the famous Deerbourne Inn. Not only does he get a lead on a job but the bakery’s owner is that awkward kid he knew in high school, only now she has fabulous curves and an irreverent sense of humor. The cozy bakery, with its aroma of sugar, vanilla and spice, has more to offer than tasty cookies.

Fiona MacLeod has been plagued for years by the need to make amends for telling The Big Lie. When the lie’s victim strolls into her bakery with his icy blue stare and killer charm, she feels like she’s standing too close to a hot oven.

Between running her bakery and frosting cupcakes for the Mad River Garden Party, she’s pretty sure she’s falling in love with this infuriating, sexy man. Can Fiona dredge up the courage to confess, face the consequences, and hope for forgiveness?

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EXCERPT

“I remember those days.” She pushed the calculator to the side, too tired to worry about planning the week’s baking schedule. “Why’d you study journalism?

“Truth is important to me. I was tired of all the lies in government, at every level. I wanted to change that. Ultimately make the world a better place. Easy peasy, right?” His lips quirked and he shook his head.

“That’s why I decided to be a baker. Brighten someone’s day with a special treat.”

He scooted his chair closer and pointed at the column of numbers on the page. “You want me to do the rest?” His arm, bare to the bicep, lightly tanned, dusted with blond hair, a little lighter than on his head, rested less than an inch from her own spindly pale arm. Not spindly compared to other women, hefting bags of flour and moving trays of baked goods did take some muscle power. But spindly compared to his manly toned muscles flexing under skin that she’d bet her last jar of sprinkles was smooth and warm. She clenched her hand.

No touching allowed.

“We have cupcakes to frost.” She bounded from the chair and rushed into the kitchen.

Holy moly, the guy oozed sex. In a good way. A very good way. She pulled a clean apron off the shelf and cinched it around her waist. An extra layer of armor between her and temptation in the form of Raynor. The seeker of truth. The man whose mission in life was to expose lies. The reporter who thought liars were not decent human beings.

Luanna Stewart has been creating adventures for her imaginary friends since childhood. She spends her days writing spicy romantic suspense, paranormal romance, and historical romance. When not torturing her heroes and heroines, she’s in her kitchen baking something delicious. She lives in Nova Scotia with her patient husband and two spoiled cats.

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Release Day for Freedom’s Path

Today Freedom’s Path, book 3 in the “Deebourne Inn” series from The Wild Rose Press, releases. The novella is set in 1855 Vermont and involves themes of being true to oneself and standing up for what you believe in.

Sidonie Demers is descended from slaves and works to help escaping slaves moved along The Underground Railroad while working as a maid at the Deerbourne Inn. Her method of providing covert information about the safest direction is to hang quilts on the inn’s clothesline whose patterns have specific meanings to those people fleeing north to the safety of Canada. I read a wonderful book titled Hidden in Plain View: A Secret Story of Quilts and the Underground Railroad that provided the essential background and the basis for the rhyme that laid out the path the escaping slaves followed.

To learn about the political climate of the time, I read The Underground Railroad from Slavery to Freedom, a Comprehensive History (first published in 1898). Included in the non-fiction work are first-hand accounts of people who were part of the movement. Everything had to be accomplished in secrecy because the second Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 made aiding escaping slaves a federal crime.

Enter Colin Crawford, an Army corporal who has been sent undercover to the town of Willow Springs to ferret out abolitionist activities. I loved writing this character because he starts out the story already conflicted about the American involvement in moving Indians off their lands. Even though he was raised in a state that disallowed slavery in its state constitution, he is forced to uphold the statutes of the federal act.

I hope readers enjoy this historical romance between individuals with firmly held but opposing beliefs.

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EXCERPT

As he waited for Kevyn’s footsteps to fade, Colin finished his tart. His mind whirled with a topic that he worried might be too forward. After a swallow of coffee, he angled his head and met her gaze. “I saw how you broke that man’s hold. Smart move.”

Eyes wide, she gasped, rested a hand on the table edge, and crouched next to the end. “Oh, please don’t tell Missus Deerbourne that I stomped on a guest’s foot.” Her dark brows drew together. “I’m not sure she’d view my action in the same way you do.”

Her response rankled. Wasn’t the innkeeper concerned for the safety of her workers? He wished he could offer comfort by covering her hand with his. “Can you not carry a small knife in a pocket to protect yourself?”

A laugh escaped as she shook her head then gripped the band of her hat and pulled it lower on her forehead. “Not an appropriate accessory for someone in my position.”

Colin disliked the idea of her being vulnerable to a man’s mauling. “The foot stomp can take a man by surprise, but often not for long enough to effect an escape. Might I demonstrate another move that guarantees a longer distraction?” He sorted through the various moves involved in his ranger tactical training for the one most effective to someone her size. Leverage was what was needed to counter a larger foe.

“I am eager to learn.” She set the tray on the table. “What do I have to do?”

Bracing both hands on the table, he pushed himself to a stand and took a couple steps away from the bench. “Walk toward me like you’re about to grab my arms.”

A blush rose in her cheeks, and she averted her gaze. “Oh, I couldn’t, Mister Crawford.”

Her modesty produced a chuckle. “Miss Demers, don’t worry. You won’t hurt me. Remember, you’re learning a new skill.”

After a nod, she stepped forward with her arms outstretched and fingers spread wide. “Like this?”

“Keep walking.” He balanced his weight on the balls of his feet. When she came within reach, he grabbed the thumb of her left hand and bent it backward.

“Ow.” She contorted her body, back arching in the opposite direction.

He knew her movements were instinctual, with her body acting on reflex to reduce the pressure. “See how you moved to get away from the pain.” He released his hold with reluctance, because he’d enjoyed the slide of her soft palm in his.

Review Copies Available

To anyone interested in reading and reviewing this historical, heartwarming story, please leave your first name and an email address in the comments. State ebook format requested. The first five people who comment will receive a free copy.

Guest Release Promotion–Exactly Like You by Lori Sizemore

I wrote this book for people who have lived through what Aidan calls their “worst things” that’s ever happened to them and come out the other side whole or want to come out whole. I wanted to write about hope and courage and, most of all, love in the face of grief, sadness, and loss. And I wanted to do it with some humor and dignity for the characters.

Exactly Like You-June 26

BLURB

Former social worker Roxie Fisher believes she’s cursed to never find happiness. An invitation to Cupid’s Café isn’t going to change that. All the same, what else does she have to lose?

Widowed accountant-turned-firefighter Aidan Craig never turns down a dare. An invite to Cupid’s Café is an offer he can’t refuse. He never expected the social worker who helped him through his darkest days. Now she’s the one struggling and he’s compelled to help.

They experience an immediate attraction, but Aidan swore never off relationships and Roxie can’t imagine daredevil Aidan being interested in her. Will they both lose out on a chance at true love?

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EXCERPT

When they climbed into the truck, he started it and she turned to him, a frown puckering her brow. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not. You’ve been perfect. Why?”

“Because you’ve been really quiet since we started taking the camp apart. Is something bothering you?”

I might’ve screwed up and fallen for you. But, he couldn’t say that. He still didn’t know what to do and he didn’t want to lead her on. Wasn’t that what he’d been doing, though?

The first time they made love, it just happened. But, after that? He’d been actively pursuing her since then, trying to seduce her, to prove to her he wanted her.

Even though it would make him a lousy human being, he wished he could say it was because she’d presented him with a challenge. But that wasn’t it at all, no matter what he’d tried to tell himself.

He glanced over at her. “Nothing wrong here.”

Reaching over, he switched on the radio and they listened in silence for the better part of forty-five minutes.

They’d be at her house soon. She sat on her hands, looking down at her feet. She looked uncomfortable, and that was his fault. He hadn’t said a damn thing to her the whole way home.

When they arrived at her parents’ house, Aidan climbed out of the truck and fished her backpacks from the back of the truck.

“It’s fine. I can carry those,” she said.

“I’m taking them in for you, Rox. No arguments.”

“But… then I’ll have to introduce you to my parents.” She glanced back at the house, then back at him, shuffling her feet.

“So, let’s go. What’s your mom’s name?” He started up the concrete walk leading to the front porch, expecting her to follow.

“Meredith.” She hadn’t moved.

“What are you waiting for?”

“An act of God. Earthquake, volcano. A lightning bolt or something showy.”

He went back to her, put a hand on the small of her back and gave a nudge. “Come on. What about your dad?”

“Oh, you can’t meet my dad. Like, literally. He doesn’t talk to me, so if I take you in there, plant you in front of the TV and say, ‘Daddy, this is Aidan, the man I’ve been sleeping with,’ he’ll nod and say, “Uh-huh.’ There’s no point.” She stopped halfway up the walk.

“Why doesn’t your dad talk to you?”

“It’s complicated. He doesn’t know how to handle me being depressed. So, he… doesn’t handle it at all.”

It wasn’t that something seemed off here, it was all a little screwy. Like he wasn’t seeing the whole picture, just bits and pieces. He took her by the arm and tugged a little. “I’m carrying your backpack inside. Let’s go.”

“I carried it out of the house without your help when we left.”

“You weren’t my girlfriend then.”

She stopped, and even him pulling on her arm didn’t budge her. “So, I’m your girlfriend now?”

He inhaled, ready to deny it, to say he’d misspoke, but the words didn’t come. His lungs deflated like a balloon. Yeah, that’s pretty much where things stood. And maybe that wasn’t so awful. Maybe it could even be a good thing. “I… Let’s just get you inside. I want to meet your mom.”

Just then, an older woman stepped out on the porch. She looked like Roxie, with the curls and the green, almond shaped eyes. “Come on in, you two. You’ve been creeping up the sidewalk for ages.”

Roxie’s legs started working again, and Aidan followed her up on the porch. Her mom wrapped an arm around Roxie’s waist and pulled her close.

“Aidan, this is my mom, Meredith. Mom, this is my friend, Aidan Craig.” He couldn’t help but notice she didn’t call him her boyfriend. He should’ve talked to her before declaring them in a relationship, he knew that.

Meredith held out a hand to him and he shook it. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fisher.”

“Oh Lord, don’t call me that. Meredith is just fine.”

“Meredith.” He gave a nod and a smile, while he berated himself internally. Why had he called Roxie his girlfriend? Because that’s what they’d been acting like, maybe. They’d made love again just hours ago. In a world where he hadn’t lost his wife, where he hadn’t sworn to never become involved with anyone again, he’d be happy to call her that. Now, it made him happy, but it also scared him.

GIVEAWAY

Author Landra Graf is joining me to give away two intertwined heart necklaces and two $10 Amazon Gift Cards.

Enter Rafflecopter contest here

Lori Sizemore-June 26

Lori Sizemore writes sexy and snarky romantic comedy. She adores all things story and geeks out about craft books, writing classes, and how-to blog posts daily.

When she’s not writing, she’s spending time with her family, playing video games, or crocheting. Sometimes all three at once, as she’s a master multi-tasker.

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Guest Interview–Carol Burnside

Tell us a bit about you and your background.

I’m a mother, wife, sister and aunt. I’m also a native Texan and lived there until the age of fourteen, the longest I’ve lived anywhere to date. Arkansas is my home now, but between my teens and today, I’ve resided in Oklahoma, Mississippi, Texas (again), Arkansas (twice) Virginia, Colorado, Hawaii, Georgia, and Maryland. My creative side has always been alive and well with interests in music, art, interior design, cooking and needlework.

What’s the logline that describes your writing?

Sizzling romance with heart and humor.

What are your hobbies away from the computer?

Reading, cooking and crocheting.

If you use music while writing, name your favorite types.

I rarely write to music unless it’s instrumental only.

What is the starting point for research—story concept or when you get stuck while writing?

That depends on the story and the plot. If the plot involves something a medical condition that I have to build around, then the research needs to come first. Otherwise, I usually research as I go.

Have you traveled to any locations that appear in your books?

Definitely. Pretty much all my settings I’ve visited or I’ve lived there. I enjoy discovering new places, taking photos of the scenery and jotting down my impressions of the area for future use as a setting.

What was your biggest surprise in the editing/revision process?

I remember the first time I’d made a note to add something to a scene, only to discover I’d already included it as I read further. Also, reading through the manuscript and discovering I’d written a more cohesive story than I believed. That’s always a welcome surprise!

Describe a normal writing day (or period, if you have other employment obligations).

Disjointed is the best descriptor I can think of. I have a short attention span and Hubby works from home (semi-retired). So, between him, the three dogs, housework, cooking, laundry and other writing obligations, I grab writing moments whenever I can. Luckily, I have a laptop and a tablet/laptop so I can burrow into a comfy chair in a bedroom and hang a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door, if needed.

What’s your dream vacation destination?

Almost anywhere that has a beach and waves lapping at the shore.

Do you use visual aids (storyboards, Pinterest, collages) when plotting or writing?

Yes. I need visual aids and learn easier when they’re utilized. I usually have photos of at least my lead characters and sometimes a house or landmark or something else to help me immerse in their world.

In what genre do you read?

I’m all over the map within the romance genre with contemporary, historical, some paranormals, YA, NA, cozy mysteries, rom-coms and romantic suspense. On occasion, I’ve also been known to read biographies, gritty suspense, straight memoirs and non-fiction for research.

Are you a pet person? If so, what do you have?

Very much so. I’ve rarely had a time in my life without a pet or multiple pets. Dogs and cats, though I was partial to cats for many years. These days, Hubby and I have three dogs: a Pudelpointer, an English Setter and a Cockalier (Cocker/King Charles Spaniel mix).

What do you hope readers gain from your stories?

A sense of renewed hope that true love is out there for everyone if we keep our hearts open.

CarolBurnside_ASuitableWife200

BLURB:

This book is the first in the Sweetwater Springs series of stand-alone books.

Sam Moreland is desperate to keep his daughter out of the clutches of her abusive mother seeking custody. He resists legal advice to provide the court with a complete family unit because past relationships have soured him on love.

Though she yearns for children, Rosie Baxter knows a failed pregnancy has likely left her barren. She remains single rather than bring her problems into a marriage and concentrates on her business with its financial woes.

A temporary marriage pact means Rosie provides Sam with the illusion of family in return for an influx of cash into her store. But kisses for show become all too real. When outside threats shake their growing bond, each must trust the other with their darkest secret or lose their best chance for love and happiness.

Warning: This book contains a heated tryst in the kitchen, a cricket choir, conniving exes, and big family gatherings. Do not read if you are allergic to tall, dark and handsome men with sweet baby girls or determined red-haired women with strong maternal feelings. The author makes no guarantees against sudden urges in the reader to move to a small southern town.

SSSeries covers_SM_CBurnside

Also in the series:

Book 2: Her Unexpected Family (Claire and Travis)

Book 3: His Small Town Princess (J.T. and Cass), 2015

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EXCERPT:

“Okay, Mr. Big-Shot Writer, spin me a tale of romance.” Rosie leaned back and crossed her arms under her breasts. After his earlier remarks about not believing in love, this she had to hear.

“All right. Give me a minute.” He got to his feet and paced, his brow furrowed with concentration. Then he slowly clapped his hands together. “I’ve got it. The best thing to do is stick as close to actual facts and events as possible. That way, there’s less chance of us getting tripped up.”

Rosie faked an exaggerated yawn to show him what she thought of that idea.

“Don’t go all skeptical on me yet. We talked by phone and exchanged e-mails over the last four months, right? So we build on that. A few e-mails turned into dozens flying back and forth. At first we reminisced, then we caught up on each other’s lives and started talking almost every evening. This time it was different. Our friendship took on a new dimension. When we saw each other again—”

“Sam.” Rosie interrupted his fantasy story before he got to the real-life part about them staring at each other in her shop. What had that been all about? “That’s not very original. The e-mails, the meet? That’s a variation of my favorite movie, You’ve Got Mail with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.”

“Exactly!” He said in a smug, ah-ha voice. “It’s life imitating art.”

Except that it wasn’t. They weren’t. Not at all.

“With a little convincing, they’ll believe it, because they’ve seen it happen on the big screen.”

“And we’re going to accomplish this how?” Rosie was suspicious, having long ago learned not to rise too quickly to the bait when her brothers suggested something risky.

“Relax. I’m not suggesting we scandalize the blue-haired ladies of Sweetwater Springs by French kissing in public.” Sam looked affronted. “I’m just saying a little hand-holding here, an arm around you there, maybe take in a family movie and voilá!—we’re a couple.”

Rosie experienced a little thrill at his last words. She’d been dating casually for so long, being part of a couple—even a pretend one—would be a nice change. With Sam playing her love interest, the problem would be remembering it was all for show.

The PDA didn’t sound too over the top, but it involved more than casual touching. What if she liked it too much?

* * *

Sam watched the play of emotions across Rosie’s face. At the moment, she looked ready to bolt. A distraction was needed and quick.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he swung over to sit facing her on the edge of her chaise. She flinched as he braced himself on either side of her shoulders and leaned in.

“Whoa.” Rosie slapped a hand to his chest, her gaze darting to where their outer thighs touched. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“I don’t . . .  are you . . .  you’re not . . . ” Her eyes widened, her gaze dropping to her hand, where he was sure she could feel the accelerated bump of his heart.

“Practice,” he explained. “This has to look natural when we’re in public.”

Her tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip before dragging her teeth across it. He’d seen her perform that nervous habit and every time it got to him. Damn. Much more of this and he’d lose his focus.

“Give me your hand.”

Her breath puffed forth with an ego-bruising relief hard to ignore. She lifted her right hand off his chest and turned it palm up. Sam flipped it over and threaded their fingers together, noting how fair and delicate hers looked next to his. He dragged his gaze back to her face. Her eyes, darkened to a deep aquamarine, regarded him steadily.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked, to break the tension.

One shoulder jerked and her lashes lowered. “It’s just hand-holding.”

“Good. Ready for the next step? Let’s go for a hug.”

Rosie tugged her hand free and eased forward. Though she slid her arms around him in a loose embrace and rested her cheek on his shoulder, she was about as relaxed as a taut rubber band.

He tightened his hold, urging her closer, closing his eyes against a sudden stab of desire as her breasts smashed softly against his chest.

“Not bad,” he said, trying to keep his breathing even. “It has to look like it’s second nature when we hug or kiss, or we’ll never fool anybody.”

Rosie straightened, breaking his hold and stared. His hands dropped to her waist and her lips parted. “You didn’t say anything about kissing. Do we have to kiss in public?”

Have to? Now that deserved a little payback. Sam hid his bruised ego behind a smile and skimmed his fingertips over her shoulder and neck. Her skin felt like warm velvet. “I’m your fiancé now. We’ll be expected to kiss occasionally.”

“I guess you’re right. I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

He tilted her chin a smidge with his thumb, caressing her jawline. Her tongue darted across her bottom lip again, and he bit back a groan. Damn. Payback for her. Torture for him.

Need rose in him, sharp enough that his position became damn uncomfortable. He stopped caring about why they were doing this and concentrated on her lips, so close, begging him to taste them.

“We don’t have to, um, practice everything tonigh—”

He covered her mouth with his, making her point moot. For a few seconds, neither of them moved. Sam eased back, trembling with the effort it took to keep himself in check. He changed the angle and closed the gap, needing to taste her, unable to resist flicking the tip of his tongue across her mouth.

Rosie’s lips parted in surprise, and he deepened the kiss, taking it from a gentle experiment to a thorough claiming. The tension left her body and she melted against him like a lone pat of butter on a stack of fresh hotcakes. The sensation set off alarms, and he stilled. What was he doing, kissing her like there was no tomorrow? Rosie wasn’t his to claim. Sam eased away from the kiss, though he didn’t want it to end.

She swayed toward him before her eyes flew open. He only caught a glimpse of blue before she turned away, breathing harder than normal.

Yeah. He knew the feeling. Kissing Rosie had surpassed anything he’d imagined it to be. He’d been celibate too long if kissing a friend did this to him.

He cast about for something witty to break the awkward silence, but came up empty. The last thing he wanted to do was rehash what had happened. He cleared his throat and stood. “That’ll do for tonight.”

REVIEW COMMENTS:

5 stars! “a well thought out story that gets you involved and keeps you turning pages until the end”—Amazon review

5 stars! “What a great story, with wonderful character’s that you fall in love with. You’ll laugh and cry, you won’t want to stop reading.” – Willow, Amazon review

5 stars! “Author Carol Burnside’s beautifully written love story had my heart strings working overtime.” – Stephanie Lasley, The Kindle Book Review

Carol Burnside

Carol Burnside is an award-winning author of the Sweetwater Springs series of “sizzling romance with heart and humor.” Her personal second-chance-at-love story resulted in a marriage to her high school sweetheart of thirty-plus years. Also published in short stories, Carol’s novel length manuscripts have placed in numerous contests and won five, including the prestigious Maggie Award for Excellence.

Writing as Annie Rayburn, she produces soft sci-fi and lite paranormal erotic romances which have been favorably received. Enjoy excerpts, review snippets, and more about her sizzling stories at http://CarolBurnside.com.

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