How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!
My charity this moth is Folds of Honor in honor of Memorial Day, which was last weekend here in the States. The mission of Folds of Honor is: “To provide educational scholarships to spouses and children of America’s fallen and disabled service-members. … Honor their sacrifice. Educate their legacy.” So this charity helps two ways that are near and dear to my heart—it helps give people who need the boost an education they might not be able to afford, and it honors those who have given so much. Please comment!
A woman who has traveled thousands of miles searching for a tall man with brilliant blue eyes. A man she’s been dreaming of for months.
A man whose life is in danger—or so the screwy woman having dreams and visions says—but who doesn’t believe for one minute in the occult.
A man who has been thought dead for two years and who disappeared with a bundle in stolen cash.
How will these three come together? And who will be left standing at the end of their encounter?
Buy or Read for free on KU: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09K4SSBY7
Excerpt:
Without waiting for an invitation, Dan turned a chair around and straddled it, his arms resting on the back. He called out a request for sweet tea to the woman behind the counter, who seemed to know him and was unsurprised by his manner of ordering.
“Please join me,” Cassandra said dryly, though she might as well not have said anything for all the attention he paid her words.
“So, when are you leaving?” He smiled tightly, and his voice was anything but friendly.
Cassandra responded in kind. “I’m not sure yet. But if you’ll leave me your number I’ll be sure to call when I’m ready to go. You’ll be prepared then to start the celebration.”
“What, is the town in one of your hocus-pocus dreams, too? Is that why you’re hanging around?” He took a sip of his tea, which the waitress had just set in front of him. “Thanks, Mindy,” he said.
“I fail to see why that’s any of your business.”
“Look, you told me you have a dream where you see me die. Seems to me that makes it a personal issue and my business. I’d just prefer not to have you hanging around spreading tales that might get some people upset. This is home to me, not some research location for a parapsychology experiment.”
“Mr. Morgan, I have no idea why you’re being so rude.”
He snorted at her comment.
“But I can assure you that I have no intention of talking to anyone in Greenwood about you, or harming your reputation in any way. I also had no intention of speaking with you again and thus taking the chance of piercing your obviously very thin skin, but since you have invited yourself to drink tea at my table, the least you can do is be civil. I was sitting here minding my own business and enjoying the peace of your town when you forced yourself on me. In a manner of speaking.”
His eyes took on a darker glint.
“I know you know how to carry on polite conversation, since you did so Saturday night. If you choose not to prove that you can do it again, please drink your tea in silence. Or better yet, go somewhere else and drink it.” She lifted her coffee cup to her lips and shifted her gaze across the street.
Dan took a sip of tea and looked at her over the glass. His gaze, in fact, proved so intense that she squirmed involuntarily. She glanced down to make sure she was dressed appropriately, and of course, she was. She had on jeans again and a white blouse that had small sprigs of flowers stitched on it. The sleeves just covered her shoulders and the band collar stood up high on her neck. What was it with this man that threw her so off kilter?
“Well in fact, Ms. Hudson, I can be civil when I choose to be. That’s a very pretty blouse you’re wearing. See?”
“Thank you.” She directed her green gaze back to him. She could almost see the strain it took him to sit there speaking to her in a normal tone of voice.
“I like all of that fine embroidery work.”
“I did it myself.”
“All of it?” He sounded surprised. “It’s very nicely done. We pride ourselves here on knowing something about textiles and good work on fabric. It’s been the lifeblood of this part of the South for a long time.”
“I know that. I’m interested in textile work.” Cassandra sighed. “Mr. Morgan, why are you sitting here talking to me? It’s plain that you’d rather be anywhere else. Don’t you have a root canal or some other minor torture you’d rather be off to?”
“Why, Ms. Hudson. Beautiful and astute.” He grinned as she straightened in her chair and once again directed her attention to a storefront across the street.
More quietly he said, “I don’t know why I’m here. There’s something about you that has me intrigued, I guess. I drove past the motel half a dozen times yesterday trying to decide why I was even on that side of town. I kept hoping I’d see you out and have an excuse to ‘happen’ into you. But I didn’t. So I drove home and used up frustrated energy in the shop. Messed up several good boards before I finally wound down. Lucky I didn’t cut off a damn finger in the process.”
Cassandra snapped her head around. She hoped the astonishment she felt wasn’t plain on her face.
Dan faced her directly. “So, is that civil enough for you?” He took a big gulp of tea. “I suddenly wish this was something stronger. Now that I’ve found you, I can hardly wait to get away.”
“Flatterer.”
About me:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex. She is the primary persona of three pen names—triplets, if you will: Dee, Anne Krist, and Jenna Stewart.
As noted above, Dee S. Knight writes erotic romance—emphasis on the romance! She was part of an anthology named a Top Pick in Romantic Times magazine (Resolutions) and the sole author of another Top Pick designation, for the paranormal erotic romance, Passionate Destiny.
“Sister” Anne Krist does not write erotic romance. Her book, Burning Bridges, has received high praise and multiple 5-star reviews because of the depth of the romance and emotion.
Third of the triplets is Jenna Stewart. Jenna has tried her hand at ménage—in both historical and shifter books. She wrote the Sisters O’Ryan series set during the westward migration in the U.S., the Great Wolves of Men-Edge, and Unlikely Bedfellows.
Regardless of the name she uses to write during the day, their dream man, childhood sweetheart, and long-time hubby are all the same guy. What happens during their nights are their secret.
For romance ranging from sweet to historical, contemporary to paranormal and more join the girls on Nomad Authors. Once a month, look for Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.
Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: https://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
LinkedIn: https://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: https://bit.ly/1ChWN3K
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