Tag Archives: Roaring Twenties

Guest release–The Mysterious Mrs. Pennybaker by Nancy Fraser

18 The Mysterious

In the Roaring Twenties…

A former Hello Girl during WWI, widowed Ariel Pennybaker served her country proudly. She now carries on her late husband’s legacy…a home for the many returning, injured soldiers.

With her year of mourning nearly at an end, she’s had enough of her self-imposed celibacy. It’s time to get back in the game.

A chance meeting with a handsome WWI aviator has her imagining thoroughly naughty thoughts. When a second man walks into her life, her naughty thoughts turn downright decadent. What better way to fulfill her fantasies than by sharing both men’s beds?

As tempting as the idea is, Ariel has a huge secret, one she must protect at all costs. And, it’s possible one or both of her lovers is not what he seems.






BIO: Like most authors, Nancy began writing at an early age, usually on the walls and with crayons or, heaven forbid, permanent markers. Her love of writing often made her the English teacher’s pet, which, of course, resulted in a whole lot of teasing. Still, it was worth it.

Published in multiple genres, Nancy currently writes for four publishers. She has published twenty-two books in both full-length and novella format. Nancy is currently working on a Valentine’s story for 2016, her next Rock and Roll novella, the third McCade Legacy book and a second fairy tale for Decadent Publishing.

When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five beautiful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.








Nancy’s grandmother was the inspiration for this book. Of French nationality, she married a U.S. businessman and moved to Detroit Michigan. Prior to settling into motherhood, she worked for Michigan Bell and was recruited into the military during WWI as a “Hello Girl”. To the best of the author’s knowledge, she did NOT moonlight as a spy!


“Retired or not, I see you still possess that infamous flyboy charm.”

He shrugged, the lift of his shoulders drawing her attention to their width and the way he held himself.
“Charming beautiful women was part of basic training,” he quipped. “Right up there with learning how to fly an airplane.”

His cheeky answer set her senses on alert. “I would think the flight instruction to be far more important than lessons on charm and seduction.”

“When you get right down to it, they’re very similar. It takes finesse to handle the throttle of a plane. You have to know exactly how much pressure to put on the stick, how to maneuver the knobs, and when to let the plane go on its own.”

The smooth tenor of his voice ratcheted her heart rate up yet another notch. “Really?” she said, her breath catching in her throat.

“There’s that one moment…when the plane is hanging there in the sky. You’ve given her all the encouragement she can take, urged her as far as she can go without breaking. Then, at just the right moment, she bursts forth with a second wind, lurches forward, and bounds unfettered across the bright blue sky.”

The sudden urge to fan herself had her clenching her hands into fists and pressing them to her sides. “It must be exciting…the flying, I mean.”

“As I said, not that different from seducing a woman. Both take a light touch at first—a gentle stroke until they’re primed. Followed by a more commanding hold, just before they reach the pinnacle of their endurance.”

A low groan escaped her throat, drawing his outright laugh.

“You make flying sound a lot like copulation, Major. Surely, when you were up in the air defeating our enemies, your attention was on something other than carnal activities.”

He leaned forward until his mouth hovered scant millimeters from her ear. His warm breath fanned over her cheek. “It’s all about a successful ending, Mrs. Pennybaker. Nothing prepares you for the climax of a good dogfight or the climax of a purely sexual encounter. They should both take your breath away.”

Guest Interview–Kathy L. Wheeler

Welcome to an author friend I met through an online author community.

How about you introduce yourself by providing the basics?

I write contemporary and historical romance. I’ve been writing since 2007, and wished I’d started back in the 70s!

Where were you raised?

I was raised in Texas, the Dallas/Ft. Worth area, and Boulder/Longmont, Colorado.

Family members?

I have 2 sisters, 2 brothers, 1 daughter (who just had a baby), 1 husband, and 1 cat.

Did you attend college?

I graduated from the University of Central Oklahoma with a BA in Management Information Systems and a vocal minor in music.

What’s your favorite sport to watch?

NBA Thunder Basketball. And it’s been a rough year. **sigh**

Did you always want to be a singer? YES; Computer programmer? I thought I did. Writer? I never knew how much I would love it.

Are you a pet person?

I love animals. But it’s very hard when something happens to them. I love my cat. She’s quite adorable, demanding, sweet, and demanding! Right! She’s very demanding.

Do you have any hobbies?

I love to karaoke, hang out with my Martini Club 4 friends, writer friends. I just joined the YMCA, so I haven’t met anyone there yet. Of course, basketball, NFL, travel.

List your favorite movie of all time.

An Affair to Remember with Deborah Kerr and Cary Grant.

Where did you go for your most recent vacation?

Well, in February I went to Seattle to see my dad. I went from OKC through Denver and my brother ended up on the same plane! In January, I went to San Francisco to see my daughter and her new little boy. He’s adorable, though it took me two days to get up the nerve to hold him.

Is there a place you’d always wanted to visit?

I’m dying to go to Ireland. I’ve already been to London, Paris, Köln, Amsterdam, Madrid, Barcelona, Avignon, Vancouver, Victoria, Grand Cayman, Hawaii…(now I’m just bragging)

Reckless (2)_resized

BLURB for Reckless, part of the Martini Club 4 series

Lady Margaret turned Lady Bootlegger…

Singer Margaret (Meggie) Montley needs money…fast. Her friend is in a dire situation with nowhere to turn. While Meggie is on the brink of stardom, it’s not soon enough to save her friend.

Harry Dempsey is out to avenge the deaths of his father and brother at the hands of a ruthless gangster. But trouble spirals out of control when Meggie Montley shows up the night he meets his nemesis to settle the score. Saving the impetuous woman from a crime lord might be easier than saving her from her own reckless behavior.






“He’ll be here. He’ll be here,” Butch snapped.

“What the hell is his name?”

Butch barked out a laugh. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Harry? I’ve never seen you this out of sorts. Ah, need a boff, do ya? I saw you talking to Alyce. I’m pretty sure—”

Meggie cringed. Did Harry have a thing for “The Kitchen”?

“That’s enough,” Harry growled. “His name.”

“Sid. Flash is sending him over. Keep an eye out for him, I’ll be in the office if you need me.” Butch slipped inside.

This was it. Now or never. Meggie pulled her cap down over her brow and stepped from her hidden place among the bushes.

“Sid? ’Bout damn time,” Harry said. “Let’s go.”

With a steady pace, Meggie edged her way to Harry, knees threatening to give way. Harry’s mood kept her quiet and watchful. With the grace of mountain lion, he leaped up in the bed of the truck. Her first real attack of fear slammed her when she gaged the height at which she’d need to somehow maneuver and appear masculine. She stole a glance at Harry who watched her, with curled lips. She threw out a gloved hand. The curled lip shifted to a disgusted smirk, but with a grunt he hauled her up. Just like the Harry she believed him to be.

He banged on the ceiling and the truck jerked into motion, tossing her to the straw covered floor.

Lightweight. Harry turned his gaze out to the street. The boy couldn’t have been more than sixteen, though that mustache was pretty full for one so young and slight. “You been doing this long, Sid?” His shirt was too damned white.

The kid just grunted, leaned back and pulled his cap further over his face.

Harry decided to do the same. No sense wasting unnecessary words. These weren’t the assignments where a man made lifelong friends. Pelham was an hour’s drive. They’d catch the boat out to the Long Island Sound. Hell, he’d be lucky to make it home by six.

The depth of night meant less traffic and faster time. The usual sixty minute trek took forty-five. The truck lurched to a stop and Harry jumped out. The kid attempted the same, barely avoiding a conk on his head but for Harry’s grab on his arm. The maneuver sent his cap flailing. Jesus, the kid needed food, he had no muscle.

Harry narrowed his eyes on the brown, lackluster hair tied back with a black strap. Sid jerked his arm from Harry’s hold and swooped his cap from the ground.

A whiff of something vaguely familiar—soft and floral, flowers of the hothouse variety, tingled his nostrils. A not-so-good feeling started deep in Harry’s gut. The kid jammed his cap on his head, stepping back. Roses.

“Meggie,” he whispered harshly.

The kid whipped his head around, facing him, mustache slightly off center. Angled like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

“What the fu—” He stopped himself from letting his vulgar language touch such delicate ears.

“Boat’s ready for you, cap’n.”

Harry jerked ramrod straight. “Give us a minute, Marco.”

“Sure thing, cap’n, but time’s a wastin’, they won’t give you too long. You know the score.”

“Yeah, yeah. I said a minute,” he growled. He turned back to his companion, fury surging through his veins. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He kept his voice to a whisper. The danger temperature just hit the hundred mark.

Her brilliant eyes flashed. “I need blunt. And this seemed the quickest way to obtain it.” Her clipped British accent was low but definitely the same distinct voice that haunted his dreams night after night.

“The butt of a cigar? What the hell are you talking about?” The effort to keep his voice low was building the pressure in his skull.

“Money. Cash. Currency,” she said just as hotly.

“For what!”

“For—” she stopped, mouth gaping. It snapped shut. “Never you mind—cap’n—I-I have my reasons.”

“I’ll give you the god damned money. How much?” He glanced over his shoulder.

A figure stood on the bow of the boat. “What’s the hold up, cap’n? Time’s a’wastin’.”

She followed his gaze. “One thousand dollars.”

“One thous—are you out of your fuc—” Harry pulled himself up. “What the hell for?”

“Keep your voice down.” She raised herself up. She looked magnificent, despite the crooked mustache. Only where the hell were her curves?

“What for?”

Her gaze dropped to her feet. “I can’t say.”

“God almighty. Do you know what kind of people these are? What kind of danger you’re putting yourself in? Me in?”

That jerked her head up.

“These men don’t give a shit whether you are the biggest star on the Silver Screen or the lowest life in the subway.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Tears glinted on her lashes.

“Oh, for God’s sake. You’ll damn sure give us away if you blubber like a girl.” He squinted out in the dark. “I can’t very well leave you here. You’ll have to come with me.” He rested his gaze back on her. “Keep that hat low on your head and don’t say a fucking word. If they kill me, you can bet when they find your body there won’t be anything recognizable.” He felt like an ass letting the curse words fly. But if something happened to her—it didn’t bear thinking about. Then, to see her lips tremble. Hell. “I don’t suppose you know how to use a gun.”

“I-I used one on stage once,” she whispered.

Compressing his lips, he tugged the Luger from his trousers at his lower back, hidden beneath his jacket. “Damn thing’s loaded.” He grabbed her hand, its utter femininity reaching through her glove. How had he missed that when he’d hauled her into the truck? He was an idiot.

Shoving away fear that centered deep within his belly, he positioned the gun in her hand, showing her the proper hold. “If you have to shoot, try to aim it in someone else’s direction. Stay behind me.”

He let out a held breath at her shaky nod.

“Let’s go. And straighten the mustache.”

Kathey Wheeler

Kathy L Wheeler has a BA degree from the University of Central Oklahoma in Management Information Systems that includes over forty credit hours of vocal music.  As a computer programmer the past fifteen years, she utilizes karaoke for her vocal music talents. Other passions include travel, fantasy football, NBA and musical theatre. She is a long time member of several RWA Chapters, including OKRWA, DARA, and The Beau Monde. As an avid reader of romance and patron of the theatre, her main sources of inspiration come mostly from an over-active imagination. She currently resides in Edmond, Oklahoma with her musically talented, attorney husband, Al, and their bossy cat, Carly.

Guest Release–Martini Club 4

A four-book series by four authors set in the Roaring Twenties

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Blurb for Ruined by Alicia Dean:

After the Earl of Goodwin attempts to force himself on her, housemaid Eliza Gilbert flees England for New York, hoping to build a better life. But the land of opportunity proves as harsh as the London docks, and she finds herself in a situation more dreadful than the one she escaped.

When Vince Taggart’s childhood friend disappears, he heads to New York in search of her and meets Eliza, a woman with a less than honorable reputation. Inexplicably captivated, Vince can’t force himself to stay away, especially when he learns Eliza may be the key to finding his missing friend.



The next night at Oscar’s party, Eliza tried to put the missing girls out of her mind. The penthouse was filled with people; everyone seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood.

She moved across the room and chatted with Oscar’s guests. Her enthusiasm for the position had dimmed, but really, she’d overreacted at the Jubilee. Betty and her husband had been nice people. The music and dancing were incredible. She’d never seen people move like that. Other than some uncomfortable pawing, Betty had been right, Gregor hadn’t made a pass at her. She could do this. The money was fabulous, and employment was not easy to find—especially for a female immigrant.

She forced herself to relax and enjoy the party. She’d been here for three hours, and Oscar hadn’t asked her—correction, insisted—that she leave with anyone. Maybe this would be like the other nights and she could just mingle and drink and entertain guests—here, under Oscar’s roof. Tonight, she wore the last of her new gowns, a black, figure hugging knee-length with fringe along the hem that went down to her ankles. She felt daring…pretty, even. She’d have to go shopping if she didn’t want to start rotating the same dresses all over again. At least she had plenty of funds to buy new things. Oscar had been more than generous. His many moods confused her. He could scare the bloody daylights out of her one moment, then become kind and giving in the next.

Oscar and a tall man with thick, dark hair approached. “Eliza, my dear, I would like you to meet Thomas Killman.”

She took his hand. He was handsome, if a little fleshy. “How do you do.”

“Delighted, my dear.” He bent and placed a wet kiss on the back of her hand. She resisted the urge to rub the saliva off on her dress.

“I would like you to be Mr. Killman’s companion for the evening.”

Eliza smiled. At least she wouldn’t have to leave with this one. “Of course. It will be my pleasure.”

His brows lifted, and a broad smile broke over his face. “Indeed?”

Oscar took her arm and led her a few paces away, out of Mr. Killman’s earshot. “This is going to be a little different arrangement tonight. You’ll have to be extra nice to him.”

“I’m always nice, Oscar. I smile and I’m polite. I even let them kiss me if they want. I will be his escort for the entire evening. As late as he wants.”

“That’s fine. But he’s going to want more than an escort.” He narrowed his eyes. “More than a kiss.”

“More than a kiss?” Her heart thudded madly. “I—I don’t understand.”

“Eliza, please. You aren’t really that naïve, are you? You will have sex with him.”

The room spun and her ears rang. She must not have heard him correctly. “Wh—what did you say?” The words came out in a squeak from her strangled throat.

“I believe you know exactly what I said.”

The world dropped out from under her. She would not do something so, so depraved.

“No!” She’d meant to keep her voice low, but when heads turned her way, she realized she’d shouted the word.

All pretense of civility left Oscar’s features. He tightened his lips and gripped her arm. “You heard me. You’ll have to sleep with him. All the other girls do that sort of thing. You’ve just managed to avoid it so far. But he picked you.”

This was the reason she left England. Her mother warned her on her deathbed that once the Earl was gone, she needed to run. Lord Renwald would make her his whore. She’d run, but not far enough. She’d barely escaped the same thing Oscar was trying to make her.

*** Available now for Amazon pre-order for only 99¢ – Regular price will be $2.99 when the stories release on February 26!***

This book is part of a fun series I did in conjunction with three of my writer friends. We have been meeting for martinis at the Martini Lounge in Edmond, Oklahoma nearly every Friday for the past four years. From those get-togethers, we developed the idea to write a series centered around a Martini Club. Those stories are finally completed, and we’re pleased to present the Martini Club 4 series…

Rebellious by Amanda McCabe – Can an aristocratic lady melt the cold heart of a Russian gangster?

Ruined by Alicia Dean – She vowed she’d be no man’s doxy, but fate had other plans.

Reckless by Kathy L Wheeler – Lady Margaret turned Lady Bootlegger.

Runaway by Krysta Scott – Can she prove her innocence before more than her dreams are destroyed?

Find all four at this link

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Left to Right: Krysta Scott, Amanda McCabe, Kathy L Wheeler, Alicia Dean

Contact info:


Twitter: @Alicia_Dean_
Martini Club 4 FB page:  https://www.facebook.com/martiniclub4