Author: Dee S.

Reading, Writing, or Living? #MFRWauthor

Right now, I’m living. Living with a computer that bit the dust over the weekend, darn it. I would have said something stronger but this is a family site. 😉

Yes, this old machine is close to ten years old. It’s served us well and we’ve gotten our money’s worth, but still, why oh why does technology have to give up the ghost? I mean, ever? Is it too much to ask that a computer never die?? I mean, really?

I loved this machine. Loved the speed, loved the screen resolution, loved the memory capacity. I loved it from its little motherboard to its raid stacks. Desktop computerFrom its DVD writable drive to its mic plug. I’ve lived with this machine for so many years I had to look up the date we bought it. Now its chugging away back in the office trying to recover files at the manufacturer’s settings so we can see how much stuff we’ll be able to recover. (Note to self: Have “Back up more!!” tattooed on forehead.)

In the meantime, while I’m learning to live without my computer, I’m reading! Just finished the very sexy Block Shot, which I loved, and then twoReading on Kindle by Becky Wade that were Christian books (yes, I like my reading eclectic 😉 ), True to You and Falling for You. Both made me laugh and Falling for You made me cry, too.

Speaking of crying, I’m going to go now and shed a few tears for my computer. I’ll be feeling low until the new one arrives next week. 😉 Hooray!

To read the next post in this week’s blog hop, go here.

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

5 Top Childhood Memories #MFRWauthor

My childhood is somewhat different than most of y’all’s in that I had polio as a baby. Most people nowadays don’t know what polio is—or was, since Shrinersit’s mostly been eradicated here in the U.S. I was lucky. One leg and my back were affected, and even luckier, my godfather was a Shriner, so as soon as I stabilized and reached the age the Shrine Hospitals would take me, he got me in. The Shriners were like my fairy godmothers throughout my life. I can’t think of a finer organization! So thank you Shriners! I mention all that because having polio is part of my childhood and my memories. So here goes…

  1. Going from Iowa (home) to see the doctors at the Shrine Hospital in Minneapolis. My great uncle Richard lived in Minneapolis, so Mom and I would stay with him when we went up, and we always went by train since it was a heck of a long drive and Mom only had a couple of days off work. Uncle Richard was a giant of a man who cussed worse than any sailor I knew but who but soft as a marshmallow inside. I loved him. He changed girlfriends often, and frequently we stayed in one of their apartments instead of with him (maybe why he changed girlfriends so often?). I remember staying in his place once and he told mom that he’d left fish in the refrigerator for dinner. When she opened the door there was a WHOLE fish, uncleaned in the fridge! Going up to see him was such an adventure, it made going to the hospital almost fun.
  2. Spending time with my grandparents. In Sioux City, we lived just across town from my grandparents—Mom’s mom and dad. My grandmother backed the best pies in the world, especially tart cherry from cherries picked in her backyard. But my grandfather—Papa—Papawas my favorite person in the world. He was my mom’s stepfather and I guess he’d always wanted children, and then he got me. I rode him around the living room like a horse, danced while standing on his feet, and watched TV with him while sitting on his stomach. Nothing I did was wrong or bad as far as he was concerned. I loved that man with all my heart!
  3. Moving to Philadelphia. When Mom married my stepfather, we moved to Philly where he took a training course for a few months. Having lived in Iowa, I’d never seen a black person before. I walked into my new classroom in the first grade and there were only three white kids in the class. Quite a shock. But such fun. I learned how to double Dutch jump rope in that class (even in a brace up to my thigh), and one of the girls introduced me to soft pretzels from a vendor who came by the schoolyard at recess. When my mom walked me to school, we met a boy in my class whose grandmother walked him to school. He was always dressed so well, with a beautiful coat and matching cap. We met up at one corner and he took my hand and walked me the last two blocks while Mom and his grandmother watched. The reverse happened after school. His name was William. I never knew his last name but I’ve never forgotten him and his kindness.
  4. Learning how to ride a bike. After Philly, we moved to Alameda, California. Dad’s duty took him to Asia on his sea tours, and on his last he brought back a beautiful blue bike. He was on the Midway and had First bikealready flattened the tired once by riding the bike all over the flight deck when he could. I was so excited over that bicycle I couldn’t see straight Soooo…he taught me to ride but not to stop. I used to run into things—fences, trees, etc.—in order to stop instead of using the brakes. Don’t judge. I’m a slow learner. We took that bike with us to Virginia, our next duty station, and I rode it for years.
  5. Going home. I had many stays in hospitals, going from hospital visits in Minneapolis to surgery in San Francisco and a stay for more than two months to several surgeries in Greenville, SC with stays more than two months for each. Once, when the stay was for more like three and a half, I had had surgery and therapy and was wondering when I might go home. We were coming back from the schoolroom when we rounded a corner and there were my parents! I dropped my crutches and started crying. They hugged me, helped me pack up and said I was going home right then, that day. It was the greatest feeling. I don’t think I stopped smiling all the way back to Virginia Beach.

These aren’t all the childhood memories of course, just the ones that jumped out at me. Except for polio, I had a somewhat charmed childhood—no broken bones or broken hearts. I had people who loved me and people to love. It was a good time and I’ve been blessed.

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

Evil or wicked… Infamy by Seelie Kay

Nomad authors is excited to host Seelie Kay and her new book, Infamy.

Infamy Seelie Kay

Release Date: Jan. 4, 2019
Publisher: Extasy Books
Romantic Suspense, three flames

An Interview with Seelie Kay:

 Q: Why do you write romance?

 A. Because I am fascinated by the games people play to find and secure a lasting relationship, which is not always love. There’s the chase, the courtship, the falling, the surrender. That’s what I try to capture in my stories.

 Q: Do you prefer a certain type of romantic hero?

 A: I adore smart, dashing gentlemen who aren’t afraid to live on the edge. They can be a bad boy, a billionaire, a prince, or a secret agent. That hint of danger just hooks me! However, I also love strong, independent women who aren’t afraid to fight for what they want, even love.

 Q: Why did you write “Infamy?”

 A: The characters featured in this story—Sheikh Harun Ali and his wife, Marianne Benson–are both lawyers who focus on international law and their practice is devoted to compensating the victims of terrorism. So I was looking for a new hook, something on the horizon that could pose a serious threat to the world and in particular, the United States. I found it in an article on advances in “cloaking” technology or making planes disappear. For years, we have had stealth planes that do not appear on radar, but can be seen in the air if anyone is looking. I wanted to take that a step further: What if someone created a means to actually cloak a plane and hide it from everyone’s view? What if that technology fell into the hands of terrorists? And “Infamy” was born.

 Q: How does your former profession as a lawyer impact your writing?

 A: After 30 years, the law and the legal world are so firmly embedded in my brain that I can’t flush them out. That has become the lens through which I view the world and that naturally guides my characters and plots. Little peculiarities that I have witnessed in lawyers and the law always work their way into my stories.

Q:  Any plans to write outside the romance genre completely?

 A: Actually, I ghostwrite non-fiction for other professionals—doctors, lawyers, financial gurus—so I dip my toes into a lot of different genres. However, I have been itching to write a book about a relative who founded a religious cult. I researched it for years and found a lot of information that had been buried. I have a pile of paper a foot high. Someday, I need to go through it carefully and start writing. I have the interest, just not the time.

Infamy Seelie Kay

Blurb:

Infamy. An evil or wicked act. Terrorists bent on revenge have found a way to make planes disappear from the sky, without a trace. And when one winds up buried in a Wisconsin cornfield, it’s a race against time to rescue the passengers from certain death.

 When international law attorney Sheikh Harun Ali is lured to the Amazon and warned of a frightening plot against the United States, he and his wife, Marianne Benson, enlist the assistance of their neighbors, covert agent Cade Matthews and his wife, Constitutional Law Professor Janet MacLachlan. Ultimately, these feisty lawyers are pushed to the wall, desperate to find a plane that has been buried in an unknown cornfield, the passengers still on board. The terrorists’ hatred for the Alis is absolute—the Alis once left their organization bankrupt and broken—but they hate America more. And their fiendish games are just beginning. They are seeking a much bigger prize, one that could destroy a nation and possibly the world. An act that will live in infamy.

Snatching Diana -- Infamy Seelie Kay

Excerpt:

Cade grasped his water bottle with both hands. “Before his brother died, he said eight words.”

Harun nodded. “They are going to make American planes disappear.”

Dianna’s eyes grew wide.

Anders rubbed a hand over his face, then through his long dark hair. His deep green eyes stared up at the ceiling of the plane. “Fucking hell. Nine-eleven all over again.”

“That is our fear,” Harun said. “However, so many precautionary measures are in place in this country, simply hijacking planes and flying them into buildings is no longer easy. They must have a different plan.”

Cade emitted a heavy sigh. “And that is what we need to figure out. What exactly do those eight words mean? For example, he did not specify that the planes would disappear in America, which could mean that they will disappear abroad or over oceans.”

Anders sat up straight. “And disappear could mean many things. Crash. Hijack. Pull a Malaysia. How many ways can you make a plane disappear?”

Buy links:

Publisher: http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2291-2-infamy/
Amazon:  coming soon
Smashwords: coming soon
Barnes and Noble: coming soon

About Seelie Kay:

Seelie Kay is a nom de plume for a writer, editor, and author with more than 30 years of experience in law, journalism, marketing, and public relations. When she writes about love and lust in the legal world, something kinky is bound to happen!  In possession of a wicked pen and an overly inquisitive mind, Ms. Kay is the author of multiple works of fiction, including the Kinky Briefs series, The Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, and The President’s Wife.

When not spinning her kinky tales, Ms. Kay ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. She resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she shares a home with her son and enjoys opera, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.

Ms. Kay is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS:  Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!

Author links:
 www.seeliekay.com
www.seeliekay.blogspot.com
Twitter: @SeelieKay https://twitter.com/SeelieKay
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/seelie.kay.77
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Seelie-Kay/e/B074RDRWNZ/

Prior Books:
Kinky Briefs: http://www.extasybooks.com/kinky-briefs/
Kinky Briefs Too: http://www.extasybooks.com/kinky-briefs-too/
Kinky Briefs Thrice: http://www.extasybooks.com/kinky-briefs-thrice/
Kinky Briefs Quatro: http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-1734-5-kinky-briefs-quatro/
Kinky Briefs Cinque: http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2023-9-kinky-briefs-cinque/
The Garage Dweller: http://www.extasybooks.com/the-garage-dweller/
A Touchdown to Remember: http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-1504-4-a-touchdown-to-remember/
The President’s Wife: http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-1795-6-the-presidents-wife/
Snatching Diana: http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2263-9-snatching-diana/
The President’s Daughter: http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2032-1-the-presidents-daughter

Coming soon:
Cult (Part Three, Feisty Lawyers): TBD
Seizing Hope (Divorce Divas anthology): TBD

A treasure from the sea: A Merman’s Choice by Alice Renaud

Nomad Authors is excited to host Alice Renaud and her new book, A Merman’s Choice!

A Merman's Choice

Buy links:
Amazon direct
Other sites

An interview with Alice Renaud

How did you come up with the idea for your book?
Years ago, when I was still living with my parents in Brittany, I saw a group of men come out of the sea. They’d been swimming, and they were wearing full-body wetsuits, with palms on their feet. It made me imagine shape-shifting mermen who could switch between an aquatic shape (with legs but webbed hands and feet) and the human form.

What sort of research did you do to write this book?
The characters spend a lot of time on boats, so I did some research on the web on how you sail a small boat. My father used to take me out on his boat, Gwilan, when I was young, but I never learnt to sail, so I had to make sure that the characters looked like they knew what they were doing.

A fun fact about writing your book.
I actually started off with a rather complicated plot where the heroine’s boyfriend tried to kill her, then pretended to rescue her. After a few chapters I realized I wasn’t pulling it off, so I scrapped the beginning and started again. The heroine’s horrible ex-boyfriend remained, but minus the killer instincts.

What started you on the path to writing?
I blame Tolkien. When I read The Lord of the Rings, at age 12, I thought, “I want to write stories like that.” It only took me thirty years!

What do your friends and family think about your being a writer?
They’re all very supportive. Although I do have to put up with some teasing from colleagues at work about the “saucy books” I write. I keep trying to explain to them that there are only a couple of love scenes in my books, but to no avail. A few weeks ago I arrived at church on Sunday to be greeted by the vicar booming away: “So, Alice, I hear you’re writing an erotic novel?” Gee, thanks, vicar.

The biggest surprise you had after becoming a writer.
I am amazed by how supportive other authors are. It’s wonderful, I feel I have joined a community of friends and I am so grateful to all my author friends, especially the other BVS authors, like Dee and Jan!

Do you outline books ahead of time or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
I outline the book then write a detailed background for the two main characters. However I find that once I start to write, the characters sometimes have their own ideas about what they want to do. I often end up writing something different from what I had originally planned.

Which kind of scenes are the hardest for you to write? Action, dialogue, sex?
I find love scenes very hard to write. I spend three times as long on them as on any other scenes. I admire writers of erotic romance like Dee, I could never do it!

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
Reading newspapers and books, and watching TV series with my husband. We love historical and fantasy series (Game of Thrones, Vikings, Dr Who…)

A pet peeve
I hate cyclists who ride on pavements. Especially when they ring their bell at me to get out of the way. I AM A PEDESTRIAN. I HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE ON THE PAVEMENT. GET BACK ON THE ROAD WHERE YOU BELONG.

First thought when the alarm goes off in the morning?
How long can I afford to stay in bed before I’m late for work?

What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
Neil Gaiman, he’s one of my favourite authors and based on his interviews he sounds like he’d be an entertaining dinner companion. [I love Neil Gaiman, too!]

What are you working on now?
A Merman’s Choice is the first book in a trilogy about shape-shifting mermen. I am currently working with my wonderful editor/creative writing tutor, Laurie Sanders, to edit the second book in the series, Music for a Merman. I have just started writing the third book, Mermaids Marry in Green. I have also written the outline for a Christmas novella, “Santa and the Mermaid”, to complete the series. As Dory says in Finding Dory: “Keep on swimming!”

A Merman's Choice

Book blurb:

For centuries the shape-shifting mermen of the Morvann Islands have lived incognito among humans. But one of them, Yann, has developed some bad habits. Like rescuing humans, even when doing so risks revealing his true nature. When he fishes Alex out of the sea, he doesn’t expect her to reappear eight months later, and turn his life upside down by asking him to be her guide.

Alex is determined to fulfil a promise to her dying grandmother, by gathering pictures and stories of the Morvanns. But she soon discovers that, on these remote Welsh islands, legends have a habit of becoming true!
Over the course of a few days, Yann and Alex grow close. But some mermen hate humans. Their hostility, and Yann’s secret, threaten to tear the couple apart just as they are discovering that they are soul mates. Can Yann overcome the obstacles in his path and make the right choice?

Excerpt:

The girl wasn’t swimming any more. Yann’s sonar gave him a clear picture of her distress. She was flailing. Sinking.

Fear punched him between the ribs. Just a few minutes earlier, she’d been splashing in the shallows, laughing and humming to herself. That music had rippled around him, brightening his journey. Now the sea was snuffing that light out. No! He wouldn’t let it happen. His webbed hands and feet churned the water, and he shot towards her like a torpedo.

Not this one, sea. Not this time.

She came in sight, slim and lovely, with long bronzed limbs and hair the colour of sunshine. But her eyes were closed, her movements slow, hesitant, as if she were falling asleep. His fear hardened into cold, sharp dread. He poured all his energy into the last powerful strokes. He’d almost reached her, when his eye caught the shadow, beyond the crystal surface, out there in the dry world. He sent a sound wave. It came back with an image, and the icy blade inside him twisted: two-legged shapes on the beach. Humans!

If they saw him, they’d know him for what he was. His people’s secret, kept for thousands of years, would be out.

The girl’s head vanished under the waves. To hell with that. He couldn’t let her drown.

He grabbed her and dragged her back to the surface. She thrashed in his arms and coughed up seawater. Intense relief swept through him as he hugged her to his chest. He’d sworn he’d never again swim by and let a human drown, and he’d kept his promise. If the young woman’s eyes remained closed, he might even get away with it. He wanted her to breathe, not scream in horror at the sight of his dark grey face.

He looked up. The shapes on the beach had gone. Another miracle, or perhaps he’d only imagined them. What if they came back? A fresh stab of anxiety propelled him through the surf. He lay the girl down on the sand, cushioning her head on his arm. Her round breasts, encased in the turquoise bikini top, rose and fell in a regular rhythm, but her skin felt clammy under his hands. He scanned the beach in vain for something to cover her with, and saw the motorbike. A sleek, sporty number, well camouflaged among the grass-covered dunes.

Shit. He retracted the webs between his fingers and toes, but his body would take at least twenty minutes to shift from the aquatic shape to the human form. And even when it did, what would the humans think, if they found him naked next to an unconscious girl?

They’d arrest him for indecent exposure, or worse. He touched the girl’s face with a tentative finger. The thought of leaving her sickened him. But he couldn’t stay.

Her eyelids fluttered and she muttered a name. “Boris?”

As if in answer, a male voice tore through the air, from behind the dunes. “Alex!”

Yann flew towards the waves. Help was coming for the girl. She’d be fine.
He sped into the open sea, leaving the human world and human fears behind. He’d saved her. That knowledge glowed inside him as he plunged into the depths. She was safe, and his people would remain safe too. He sang as he rode the riptide, a song full of triumph and laughter. Far away, the humpback whales heard him and picked up the tune. He’d got away with it.
For now. His euphoria abated. No humans had seen him, but his people had sharper eyes and ears. He shouldn’t even have been hanging around, in full merman shape, so close to an inhabited island, but he’d thought he’d be OK. In late September so few tourists were around, and locals had better things to do than go swimming in cold water. He sniffed the current and tuned his sonar towards the Clans’ Islands. Nothing. With luck, no one would notice that he’d broken the merpeople’s rules.

Again.

A Merman's Choice

A little about Alice:

I was born and brought up in Brittany, Western France. My father was French and my mother British (from Wales). I moved to London, UK, in 1997, where I now live with my husband and son. I work full time as a compliance specialist in a pharmaceutical company. I have been writing in my free time since I was 14. I got quite a few short stories published in UK magazines, before moving to longer fiction. I wrote three contemporary romance books, but didn’t find a publisher for them. I then realized that mermen, sea witches and water demons were a lot more fun than sheikhs and billionaires! My first two paranormal romances did not find a publisher either, then I wrote A Merman’s Choice, which was accepted for publication this year by Black Velvet Seductions. It is the first book in a fantasy romance trilogy inspired by the landscapes and legends of Brittany and Wales. I love reading and writing stories, and sharing them with anyone who’s interested!

Author social media links:
Facebook
Twitter
Linkedin
MeWe

How many disasters can one wedding have? #MFRWauthor

I don’t mean to imply that my whole wedding was a disaster after disaster, but it was a little weird and strange things seemed to crop up. But what did I expect? We’d been engaged nine days—yes, nine days from when I said yes to a strange proposal to walking down the aisle.

That said, I was not one of those girls who had imagined her wedding from when she was tiny. Except I did want a Cinderella dress that reached from I was not tall enough to be Cinderellapew to pew. Since I’m five feet two inches, such a dress was not in the cards. But I did find a dress I liked okay and I got it for $75, so I was happy. I made my headpiece and bouquet from silk flowers and a yard or two of tulle, and told my bridesmaid to wear whatever she wanted. I was not Bridezilla. In fact, I didn’t care all that much about the wedding—I cared only for the groom. Is that weird? Yeah, maybe, but I watch all those brides on Say Yes to the Dress and wonder sometimes if they care more for the wedding than they do the marriage. I didn’t have Simple and demurethat bridal moment when I first tried on the dress—I didn’t really care what I wore so much. It was white, it was long and demure, and it was cheap. ‘Nuff said.

The proposal was unconventional, though not really a disaster.
Me: I’m ready to get married.
Him: What are you doing next Saturday?
Me: Why?
Him: We can get married.
Me: Okay.
Was there a bended knee? No, we were driving at the time. Was there a diamond? No. I said I didn’t need one and he said, “I’m so glad you feel that way.” Is it any wonder I rushed to say yes to this man? 😉

So maybe not caring about the dress wasn’t a disaster. Having my mother say that she and Dad couldn’t travel from Wisconsin to Virginia for a wedding nine days away was. I cried. Mom cried. Dad called and said they would be there. Whew!

There was no wedding rehearsal the night before the nuptials—the only people available were hubby, his parents and me. My parents and maid of honor arrived late that night.

It rained. And when I say rain, I mean downpours. Everyone was wet coming into the chapel and I was petrified about walking down a wet aisle. (I made it.)

I cried a lot moments before the service. I begged my dad not to make me get married. His words of advice? “We drove all the way here from Wisconsin and you’re going to get married.” Truthfully, I think he believed I was pregnant. After all, why else would I rush to name a wedding date? I was not, but I always wondered if that was why he took such a strong stance.

I had told the minister and hubby that I did not want to kiss him (hubby) in Simple ceremonyfront of everyone. But when all was said and done, I kissed everyone except hubby—my maid of honor, the minister, the best man. Hubby said I was about to head for the organist when he turned me and took my up the aisle.Wedding rings

There were only about 70 people attending, and the reception was at my new in-laws’ house. I neglected to mention in my hurried invites that there would be no dinner, only cake and some kind of punch. A few of my friends came from Richmond and Fredericksburg and they were hungry by the time the event ended. We were married out in the sticks, and there was nowhere to eat for fifty miles once they left. I felt bad about that, but by the time I found out, there was no solution except a few cheese sandwiches.

This is probably the biggest mishap: I didn’t remember anything about the wedding. Nothing. Hubby had a good laugh telling me all about it the next day.

All that said, for a hurried wedding, the marriage has been good for over forty years. We had dated for years, but dating and married are two very different things! Fortunately, I chose well—and I’d like to say he did too. (Well, hell, I will say he did to.) We still laugh, still love, still enjoy being with each other despite the rushed beginning. And that isn’t a disaster!

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

It’s the Highlands for me, lass! #MFRWauthor

I’ve been fortunate to have been all over the U.S. and I love my beautiful country. So don’t take this the wrong way when I say that I long to go back to Scotland. The first time I went I had not read Outlander or seen Braveheart, so when I say I love Scotland, it’s for the country and people, not a fantasy from books or a movie. (Although, I wouldn’t say no to meeting Jamie!)

I’ve been in Scotland a few times—the last time on a 9-day trip with my college roommate over a good bit of the highlands and Skye. I always thought that if I could afford it, I’d rent a cottage in the moors around Inverness and spend a summer writing. That’s my fantasy vacation! It hasn’t come about but I fill my fantasies by reading books in Scottish settings.

I’ll admit that I kinda believe in reincarnation, and the first time I exited the Isle of Skyetrain in Waverley Station in Edinburgh I felt as though I’d come home. Maybe I’d lived there before. The city called to me. I wandered at will and had a great time and met some fantastic people. I also loved the area around Loch Ness (so beautiful!), and Stirling and Balquhidder are gorgeous. Skye had light like I’d never seen, and I could spend a week there just looking out over the sea.

You can see right now that I’m lusting for the place. Maybe someday I’ll get Piperback there again. I haven’t given up hope!

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

A little love, a little magic: The Christmas Ballet

Welcome Constance Bretes and The Christmas Ballet!

The Christmas Ballet
By Constance Bretes

Constance has 2 $10 gift certificates to Paparazzi Accessories to giveaway during the tour. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win one of the prize packages. You may find the tour locations here.

About The Christmas Ballet:

Laura Hemmingway cut herself off from men and her family when the man she loved married her sister. She moved across the country and was doing just fine until she received a devastating call to return to New York. She had to face the death of her sister, her sister’s little girl, Maria, and Maria’s father, Stefan—the man she had once loved. She figured she would pay her respects and leave as soon as possible. She never anticipated on the beautiful little girl stealing her heart. And she never expected that seeing Stefan again after twelve years would stir up old feelings.

 Stefan’s life was complete. He had a successful career as an attorney, a beautiful wife and an adorable six-year-old daughter. Although he and his wife had been married in name only for the past several years, he cared for her deeply. Then her unexpected death brought him face-to-face with his former lover, and the guilt he’d carried for years.

Stefan is still in love with Laura and wants to give her everything she deserves. He and Maria are racing against time to convince Laura to stay with them in New York.

 Can a little girl’s love, and the true magic of Christmas, help Stefan convince Laura to stay and give their relationship another chance?

 Content Warning: contains some sexual content
Genre – Contemporary Romance
Heat Level – Hot

  • Amazon Buy Link: https://amzn.to/2qPPQWB

Excerpt from The Christmas Ballet:

He smiled as he thought about the look on her face when he’d stroked her. Maybe she was more interested in him than she either believed or cared to be.

Then he thought of something. “One more thing, Laura,” he called out to her, and she stopped at the door and turned around.

“On the nineteenth, the law firm is hosting the annual Christmas party. It’s quite grand and lasts all evening long.”

“You want me to be sure to be available to babysit Maria,” Laura said.

“No. I want you to plan to come with me.”

“What?”

“Remember that beautiful, green, velvet dress we saw at Macy’s? I want you to get that dress, and the accessories to go with it, and attend the party with me.”

“Stefan, really. You know I don’t go to those types of events, and I don’t wear those kinds of clothes. I’m not comfortable with either of those things.”

“You need to get comfortable.” He smiled.

“This is not a part of a job for the nanny and teacher. It’s out of the range of the job description. You need to get Ginger to go with you. I’m not going.” She gave him a defiant look.

“Laura, I want to take you to this event. I’m not taking no for an answer. I will arrange for Rhonda to take you shopping to help you get what you need. You will charge all the purchases to a credit card I will give you that’s for your use only. This is the first of many social parties you will be attending.”

He watched her as she clenched her hands into fists and released them.

“Who do you think you will get to care for Maria on these…occasions?”

“Usually Lillian is available.”

“Stefan, it’s my job to care for Maria, not be your date to your parties. I don’t like being told what I will or won’t do. I don’t like social parties, and I don’t like wearing expensive clothes. It’s not me, and you’re not going to change me.”

“I don’t want to change you. I want you to attend an event by my side. It won’t hurt you to have some beautiful clothing to show your feminine side. I want the world to see the beauty I see. Be glad I want to show you off. Some men might decide they don’t want others to see what they see.”

“Flattery doesn’t work with me. You can tell me what to do as far as Maria is concerned, but my personal life is off limits to you.”

“That’s good to know. At least I know you won’t get carried away and escape my grasp by someone making flattering remarks to you. Your personal life interests me.”

“Stefan, you just don’t get it. I am not going to this party,” she said, enunciating each word slowly and carefully. “Besides, your mother would be horrified to see me walk in with you.” Her face hardened as she stared at him.

“Look at it this way—you’d be doing me a big favor.”

“How?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not interested in the other women that come to this social party looking for an eligible bachelor. With you on my arm, it would send a clear message to all the others that I’m taken.”

“God, you’re impossible. Ginger is more than capable of providing you that kind of service.”

“I don’t want Ginger. You have the grace, quiet beauty, and finesse I want in a date, and I will not take no for an answer. After Maria’s recital, you and Rhonda will set a shopping date. And one more thing. When you get your hair done, I’d like you to wear it down.” He smiled at her.

“This is not going to happen.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

“It will. I’ll just have Maria work on you.” He eyed her.

“What?”

Stefan grinned. “You heard me. You’d never turn down anything from Maria.”

“Grrrr.” She growled and stomped up the stairs.

He laced his hands and put them behind his head. Oh yeah, it’ll be a night she’ll never forget.

About the Author:
Constance Bretes is an author of contemporary romance and suspense. Her romance books are often set in different parts of the country, but her favorite site is Montana. She retired from the State of Michigan after 38-plus years of service and now writes and researches full time. She is married to her best friend and has recently moved from Montana to Alabama. Her hobbies include basket weaving, sapphire digging, and checking out old ghost towns.

Constance’s Social Links:

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Top five things I’m grateful for #MFRWauthor

Best gift under the treeEspecially in this season, there is much to be grateful for. There is so much, in fact, how does one limit it to a few? Don’t know… But I’m going to try.

  1. The people in my life. I know it sounds trite but I’m so very grateful for the people in my life, especially my mom and husband, but right on their heels are my in-laws (I was blessed with the best!), my aunt, and my closest friends. It seems that when I needed someone, there was always someone there. I only hope I return the favor so someone somewhere says they’re grateful for me, too.
  2. Health. I had polio as a baby but fortunately, that’s the worst health issue I’ve ever had. I’m kind of grateful even for that, though because it helped shape me (for the better, I hope) and gave me adversity to overcome.
  3. Travel. With our eight years of trucking, hubby and I saw a whole hell of a lot of the U.S. and western Canada. Travel expands the mind (and the waistline, sadly). We met so many wonderful people in those eight years US Mapand I learned things I’ve never forgotten. It planted my feet firmly on the ground and centered me. Plus, it gave me a perspective on everything in life since. As hubby says, once you’ve started to jackknife coming down Donner Pass in a blizzard, the meaning of “stress” changes forever more.
  4. Moving around. As a consultant in a specialized arena, hubby moved us quite a bit. The effect was like traveling, above, except with an immersion component. We lived several different places in the U.S. and got to know those places and people really well. I loved it to the point of when hubby said he wanted to stay here, where we were planted after two years, I had withdrawal symptoms. 😉
  5. Life. I have learned to be happy. It’s not always a given, being happy. It’s something I decide every day to be and now I am blooming where I’ve been planted. I was born in the best time. I’ve had innumerable chances to Key to Happinessexperience things most people have not. I’ve been able to write. I’ve enjoyed both working and not working. I’ve been blessed, totally and sincerely. It’s such a wonderful feeling!

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

New historical romantic suspense! Keeping Faith

For the first time, Nomad Authors welcomes Beverley Oakley. Keeping Faith sounds wonderful!

Keeping Faith 
Fair Cyprians of London Series (Book 3)
By Beverley Oakley

Beverley has a print copy of Her Gilded Prison to giveaway during the tour. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win a print copy of Her Gilded Prison. You may find the tour locations here. 
 
About Keeping Faith:

“My beautiful Revenge.”

 Four years ago, Faith’s mysterious benefactress falsely accused her of stealing and deposited her in Madame Chambon’s exclusive brothel.

 There, Faith was to learn how to entrance London’s noble gentlemen with her learning in philosophy, politics and art.

 Her body was to be saved for the greatest enticement of all: revenge.

 Faith doesn’t care what she has to do. She lives only to fulfil a bargain that will set her free.

 But when Faith is recruited as the muse of a talented, sensitive painter whose victory in a prestigious art competition turns them both into celebrities overnight, she discovers the reasons behind her mission are very different from what she’d been led to believe.

 Now she is complicit in something dark and dangerous while riches, adulation and freedom are hers for the taking.

 But what value are these if her heart has become a slave to the man she is required to destroy?

Genre – historical romantic suspense
Heat Level – Medium

Keep Faith Buy Links:
https://www.books2read.com/u/bP5pGY
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2Dg70UP

Excerpt: 

Chapter One

 “What did you learn last night?”

 “A gentleman must always believe he knows best.”

 Confident that her answer was pleasing, Faith reached across the table to help herself to a macaroon but a sharp slap across the back of the hand stopped her progress by the silver teapot.

 Her smile of feigned contrition was rewarded with a raised eyebrow from Madame Chambon. Not an invitation to partake of a macaroon, unfortunately. The table laden with eclairs and petit fours in Madame’s private sitting room was merely for show.

 “Greedy girl, Faith! You can eat at the Dorchester tomorrow and I daresay you won’t even spare a thought for the other girls who are justified in being somewhat jealous of your cossetted life.” Madame sniffed as she patted one of the grizzled, orange curls of her elaborate coiffure. Faith suspected a squirrel’s pelt had made its contribution. “I’m sure they wonder every day why you never have to stir yourself – or anyone else, for that matter – to get your fine clothes or a roof over your head.” Madame Chambon piled three macaroons onto her already laden plate before making a sweeping gesture that encompassed the furnishings of her surprisingly decorous private sitting room with its gold tasseled green velvet curtains and flock wallpaper. “What have you told them, Faith? About why you are here, I mean?”

 Faith’s stomach rumbled as she gazed from the prints of the famous artists that lined the walls to the fine fare in front of her, ordered from Fortnum and Mason. These monthly sessions in table manners were supposed to give Faith the practice she needed to deport herself like a lady when eating in public. However, under Madame’s guardianship, Faith never actually got to try the specialties.

 “Answer me, Faith. In all the three years that you’ve been here, you’ve had to do precisely nothing to justify your existence. Surely the girls have questioned you? I have my own version of the truth for them, as you know, but I’d be interested to hear what you have to say.”

 Faith didn’t answer. She already knew how lucky she was, but Madame was not ready to drop the subject, despite having just crammed an entire chocolate éclair into her mouth. Faith just managed to make out the muffled words, “Every night you lie peacefully in your bed while the other girls have to earn their livings.”

 Lying peacefully in her bed was not how Faith would describe the restfulness of her slumber. She was kept awake every night by the grunts and cries of ecstasy that penetrated the thin walls of her attic chamber.

 Still, she’d finally learned when it was wise to respond meekly, so she bowed her head and stared at her neat kid gloves while dreaming of the delicacies Mrs. Gedge would order for them when Faith really was dining with her at the Dorchester Hotel the following afternoon. The Sacher Torte Mrs. Gedge had ummed and aahed over before finally choosing the baked Alaska from the sweets trolley last month still haunted her. However, since part of Faith’s tutoring included how to win over reluctant gentleman ‘and make them wild with wanting’ which is how Madame phrased it, then surely Faith could persuade her American benefactress to order the Austrian chocolate specialty?

 She was so busy rehearsing her words for tomorrow that she almost missed Madame’s prophetic and appalling statement.

 “Well, Faith, the time has come for you to start earning your way, now.”

 Faith brought her head up in shock. Was Madame teasing? When it appeared not, she gripped the table edge as she struggled for composure. For so long she’d known the reckoning would come. Yes, and with three years preparing for it, she’d believed she could meet it head-on with the necessary fortitude.

 But there’d been no warning.

 She began to shake, biting into her bottom lip and clasping her hands in her lap to try and keep secret the manifestations of her terror from Madame who’d only be spurred onto gloating and make her suffer even more.

 “Mrs. Gedge reported last month that she wasn’t entirely happy you were ready for what she has in store for you when she took you to tea, Faith.” Madame chewed noisily, unperturbed, it seemed, by the crumbs that landed on her gaudy vermillion skirts.

 Faith didn’t suggest that Mrs. Gedge’s dissatisfaction was perhaps the fault of Faith’s tutor – the one sitting in front of her – who knew nothing about deporting herself as a lady.

 With a dainty gesture using only her forefingers, Madame Chambon raised her plate and licked at the crumbs that had not been dislodged before saying, “Fortunately, Lady Vernon is recovered at last from her long indisposition and has agreed to forget your rudeness to her from six months ago. In fact, she’ll be here shortly. Yes, she’ll soon have you passing the scrutiny of the most discerning duchess.” Madame gobbled down another macaroon with as much finesse as the dogs Faith’s father used to goad into fighting each other after they’d fought over the scraps from the scrubbed wooden table at the farm. Not that there’d been many scraps with ten children to feed.

 “Should we not have waited for Lady Vernon?” Faith suggested, daringly. But she had to say something to stop herself from launching into a volley of querulous questions about exactly what form this ‘having to earn her own way’ might take.

 Madame Chambon pushed aside an untouched plate of bread and butter to reach for another chocolate éclair and sighed. “There was just so much food on the table it seemed unnecessary to wait if her ladyship was going to be late. Ah! And here she is.” Madame’s orange painted mouth turned up at a knock on the door. “Shoulders back, Faith! And make sure you don’t talk with your mouth full.”

 Since this was not a danger, Faith supposed there might be some compensation in having to face her former nemesis who surely must subscribe to the belief that learning table manners required one having to eat.

 Madame threw her arms wide in a welcome as the door opened to admit the new arrival. “Good evening, Lady Vernon. We’re so glad you’ve recovered from your chest ailment,” she gushed. “A good rest has done you the world of good. Why, you look ten years younger. Just as you do every time I see you, in fact. And we’re indeed humbled that you’ve consented to return.” Madame simpered at the elderly woman, dressed all in black who looked, Faith thought, even more wraith-like than usual as she pinned up the veil of her bonnet and took the seat at the table proffered by Madame who went on, “I’m sure you’ll feel even better once you’ve heard Faith’s heartfelt apology.”

 Faith blushed under the scrutiny of the two pairs of expectant, unforgiving eyes, and glanced longingly at the remaining macaroon.

 Yes, there were times when it was worth being abject. She mightn’t mean what she said, but if the last three years under Madame Chambon’s roof had taught her one thing, it was how to sound heartfelt and sincere when she felt anything but.

 “I’m sorry for my rude comments about…” Faith hesitated. Perhaps it was best not to stir up old memories. While it must be perfectly obvious to anyone who met Lady Vernon as to why an earl’s daughter could remain a spinster into her sixtieth year, it hadn’t been in anyone’s interest – Faith’s least of all, it turned out – for Faith to have gone into quite such specific and extensive detail regarding her thoughts on the likely reasons. “I behaved like a child, though it’s such a long time ago, now, I can barely remember what was going through my head at the time. I was only seventeen and, in those days, prone to losing my temper but now I’m eighteen and, thanks to all your efforts in teaching me how to act like a lady, Lady Vernon, I’m so far from the rude and impulsive young thing I was before, you’d not recognize me today. Thanks to your thorough tutelage, I am determined that I will never speak out of turn, to you, or anyone. Indeed, I have changed! I truly believe that, confronted by a table of delicacies like this, for example, I would certainly not embarrass you or Mrs. Gedge or any lovely young man or his mother who might take me out to tea by any show of greediness or lack of restraint.”

 Lady Vernon’s eyes remained fixed firmly on Faith for the duration of this speech with no indication of how forgiving or otherwise she might prove to be.

 After a long silence, she spoke. “Restraint?” She sniffed. “Restraint is the most important requirement of any young lady, Faith. I’ve told you this many times, so I’m glad it’s a lesson you claim to have finally learned.”

 With her eyes fixed on Faith, she reached towards the remaining macaroon that sat lonely on its plate just in front of them both, her long-fingered hand hovering just above. “Please pass that to me, Faith. I can’t seem to reach it.”

 Wordlessly, Faith complied, schooling her features into impassivity while she railed inside, I hate you! I hate you! as she watched Lady Vernon transport the coconut confection to her thin, bloodless lips.

 “Delicious,” Lady Vernon murmured. “In fact, I believe it is the best macaroon I have ever tasted? You must surely agree, Faith, since the plate is now empty.”

 She looked pointedly at the two remaining crumbs that clung to the edge of the fine china, as if to imply that Faith had eaten the rest. Then she indicated the plate of bread and butter near Madame Chambon. “Please eat, Faith. Madame Chambon and I have a leisurely afternoon at our disposal. She and I will partake of the remaining chocolate eclairs –” Her pointed chin wobbled slightly, whether from the suppression of mirth or the swallowing of bile, Faith could only guess, “while you make good work of the bread and butter with all the ladylike restraint you’re so anxious to prove.”

 Other Books in the Series:

 Saving Grace (Fair Cyprians of London Book 1) by [Oakley, Beverley]
Saving Grace Amazon Buy Link: https://amzn.to/2z7rVGx

 Forsaking Hope (Fair Cyprians of London Book 2) by [Oakley, Beverley]
Forsaking Hope Amazon Buy Link: https://amzn.to/2DlzV9M

 Beverley Oakley’s Bio:

Debutantes, widows and the occasional courtesan test society’s boundaries in Beverley Oakley’s wicked, passionate historical romances dripping with scandal, intrigue, and suspense.

 Her Fair Cyprians of London series is about a group of determined and clever courtesans at a high-class Soho brothel who use their wit and beauty to avenge past betrayals – and who find lasting love along the way.

 How can there be a happily ever after? is a question many a reviewer has asked before admitting to being delighted and satisfied by the unexpected plot twists and surprise endings – just like in Beverley’s own life. You can read more on her website.

 Beverley’s Social Links:

 Website: http://www.beverleyoakley.com/ 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorBeverleyOakley/
Pinterest: https://au.pinterest.com/beverleyeikli/ 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BeverleyOakley
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/5989577.Beverley_Oakley

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My best dish in a dish #MFRWauthor

Dutch ovenI have to say, I am not a very good cook and I’ve become worse since being married. My family used lots of seasoning, so at one time I knew what I was doing with them. But Jack likes no seasoning—not spices, herbs, salt, or pepper. Nothing. He says he likes the taste of food as it is meant to be tasted. So I’ve learned to eat food the same way and that somewhat limits what one can do in the way of creativity. Consequently, my culinary acumen has suffered. I do still have a few dishes I cook and Jack eats them or he fixes a sandwich. (Okay, that’s not accurate. I fix his sandwich.) One of my favorite comfort foods is goulash, or what some call hamburger and macaroni.

My mom made this dish when I was growing up because it was cheap and we were slightly below middle class and liked cheap. It also could be stretched to last several days so we often had it near the end of the month when money was about gone. Didn’t matter to me—I loved it! And I still love it, especially now that the weather has turned colder. Now we have itBeef and macaroni--goulash to me with a slice of crusty bread and maybe a salad. Doesn’t matter—it takes me back to my childhood. Funny thing. Years ago when I first started making goulash for Jack and me, it didn’t taste the same as when Mom made it. I asked her why and after relaying how I made it, she asked when I added the secret ingredient. Once I started that, the flavors were the taste of home. See if you can spot the secret ingredient.

Goulash
Prep time: about 15 minutes
Cooking time: about 30 minutes

2 lbs hamburger (mom used a pound or less but Jack is a big meat guy)
1 large onion, chopped
1 14.5 oz can tomato sauce
1 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes
8 oz elbow macaroni
1 cup secret ingredient (KETCHUP)
Season with salt and pepper to your liking. Of course you know, I use none.)

1. Cook macaroni for slightly less time than package recommends. The cooked macaroni will be sitting in sauce and will absorb some of it.
2. Brown hamburger with onion in a Dutch oven
3. Add tomato sauce and diced tomatoes. Stir well and let tomatoes heat through.
4. Add macaroni to hamburger-tomato mixture and stir well.
5. Add ketchup and stir.
6. Turn down heat and let simmer for about 20 minutes.
So good right when it’s finished cooking, but even better the next day.

I hope you try this recipe and that you like it as much as Jack and I do.

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!