Category Archives: Excerpts

Excerpt from REDEEMED BY A REBEL

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Because this blog is not part of my blog tour, you aren’t eligible for the $100 GC, but as a thank you for stopping by, you’ll get an ecopy of Tame A Wild Bride and be in the running for a $10 gift card. So be sure and comment and leave your email in the comment.

redeemed_by_a_rebel_2April 1876
St. Louis, Missouri

The iron pressed against Jake Anderson’s back was almost as cold as the rain pouring out of the night sky.
“Knock on the door,” demanded his brother Zach, his voice angry and on edge.
Jake did as he was told and pounded on the front door, hard enough to be heard over the din of the rain.
“What the hell?” said his eldest brother, Liam, when he opened the door. “Jake? Zach? What are you two doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”
Zach growled from behind Jake. “Are you going to let us in or make us stand in this rain all night?”
“Come in. Zach, put that gun away.”
“Can’t until the kid here,” he poked Jake in the back with the gun, “is inside and we’ve talked to you.”
Jake walked into the foyer of the house his oldest brother owned in St. Louis. Steamer trunks and carpet bags lined the hallway down to the parlor.
“Sorry to do this to you, Liam. I know you’re leaving tomorrow,” said Zach, laying his hat on one of the trunks.
Jake threw his hat on the trunk next to Zach’s.
“Yes. At first light. Now, tell me what’s going on and why you brought Jake here at gun point,” said Liam.
“Only way I could get him to come.”
“And?” Liam said, exasperated. “Don’t make me beat the story out of you word by word, little brother. Just tell me the problem.”
Liam pointed at the two chairs in front of the fire, then went to the fireplace and stoked the banked coals to life. He added a piece of wood to the tiny flames before he turned once again to face them. “Jake. You first,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
“I killed an army captain,” Jake said, refusing to sit. He couldn’t sit. Couldn’t be still. He wanted to scream at the injustice, shout at God for his betrayal.
“Why’d you do a damn fool thing like that?”
Jake shrugged. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” countered Liam.
Zach put away his gun. “No, there’s not,” said Zach. “There was reason for it, but he did kill the man. I use the word ‘man’ loosely.”
“Damn it, Jake. They’ll hunt you down and hang you for this.” Liam had been a colonel with seventeen years service, Jake knew he was familiar with military justice.
“The son of a bitch deserved to die. And as soon as I can, I’m going to kill the other bastard, too.”
“He’s mine,” snarled Zach.
“Who?” asked Liam.
“The colonel.”
“Jesus! You two had better tell me what’s going on. Start at the beginning.”
Jake began to pace. The hardwood creaked under his weight and small droplets of water from his wet boots followed in his wake. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to relive that moment when he’d lost Elizabeth, but he knew he had to. For Liam. So he’d understand.
“I went to see Elizabeth just like I did every day, just to snatch a few minutes together.” His voice broke and he paused, gathering himself to face the memory. “Her mother and aunt kept her pretty busy with wedding plans so we didn’t get to see much of each other.
“When I got there, I heard a gunshot come from the house. I ran to the door but the damn thing was locked and I had to break it down. I lost precious moments doing that. When I got to the parlor, there were two men standing over Elizabeth. Her face was bloodied.” Jake’s voice cracked.
As if the memory were there, right there, and he was watching it all over again, he felt the color flee his face as he remembered Elizabeth’s. He wet his lips and continued on choked words. “Her dress was ripped, skirt bunched around her waist. The one holding the gun was a colonel and the other was a captain. Both in full uniform. The bastard captain was buttoning his pants when I walked in. I shot him on the spot.
“As soon as the colonel saw me, he ran out the other door toward the kitchen. I followed but he was on his horse and riding away by the time I reached the back door.”
Jake stopped. His body shook. His hands fisted and white knuckled. He took several deep breaths to quell the tears before he could continue.
He watched his brothers eyes fill with pity and he knew he had to finish.
Jake continued as though he were reciting a story. It was the only way he could get through the whole thing, the only way he could relive those moments. “When I got back to the parlor, I went immediately to Elizabeth and got down on my knees beside her. The bastard colonel had shot her in the chest, but she was still breathing. She opened her eyes. They were filled with terror until she realized who I was.” His voice cracked. He paused. It was too fresh. The memory too new and painful. Rage filled him.
“Jake,” she said to me. “I tried to stop them, I tried.”
“Shhh,” I told her. “You’re going to be fine. It’s all right.”
“I tried…tried to stop them…stop John but,” she whispered. “I love you, Jake.”
“She closed her eyes and took her last breath in my arms. I held her for I don’t know how long. Finally, I picked her up and laid her on the sofa. I went back to the captain, made sure he was dead and then looked through his pockets to find out anything I could about the colonel.”
“After he’d kicked the shit out of him,” interjected Zach.

Excerpt from GNOME ON THE RANGE

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Check out the great new covers for Jennifer Zane’s romantic comedies! To share the love with all my fans, Gnome On The Range is free 11/20-11/24. I love to hear from readers, so please read, review and comment!

gnome_on_the_range_72dpi_200x300_2AWARDS:
Winner- Readers’ Crown- Best Contemporary Romance
Winner- Readers’ Crown- Best First Book

Available in e-book from Amazon and All Romance eBooks
Paperbacks available just about everywhere, online.

BLURB:
Once you get the zing you can’t go back.

Jane West has everything a woman could want. A job in a small Montana town’s only adult store, two busy young boys and one dead husband. Everything except a little excitement–a little zing. But that changes one summer morning at a garage sale when her kids buy some garden gnomes.

Now someone wants those gnomes and will let nothing get in their way. Including Jane. This new excitement for Jane spells trouble for a relationship with new neighbor–and hot fireman–Ty Strickland. Can Jane and Ty handle a relationship meddling mother-in-law, crazy kids, and stay alive while trying to solve the mystery of the garden gnomes?

EXCERPT:

Gnome On The Range
RomCon 2012′s Readers Crown Award Winner for
Best Contemporary and Best First Book!
©Copyright 2011 by Jennifer Zane

Excerpt: Chapter One
“I’m not sure which one I want. I didn’t realize there were so many choices!”
The woman wasn’t on the hunt for a new car or juice boxes at the grocery store. Nope. She wanted a dildo. I called her type a Waffler. Someone who contemplated all options before even attempting to make a choice. Because of Miss Waffler, I had ten different dildo models spread out across the counter. Glass, silicone, jelly and battery powered. She needed help.
That’s where I came in. My name is Jane West and I run Goldilocks, the adult store my mother-in-law opened back in the seventies. Story goes she named it after the fairytale character when plumb_crazy_72dpi_200x300_2a mother bear and her two cubs walked down Willson right in front of the store the week before it opened. She called it fate. Or it could have been because her name is Goldie, so it made sense. I started working for her when my husband died, a temporary arrangement that helped her out. Three years later, things had turned long-term temporary.
The store was tasteful considering the offerings. The walls were a fresh white, shelves and displays just like you’d find at the typical department store. Then tasteful made way for tacky. Gold toned industrial carpet like you’d see in Vegas, a photo of a naked woman sprawled artfully across a bearskin rug over the counter. A sixties chandelier graced the meager entry. Goldie had to put her unique stamp on things somehow.
It wasn’t a big store, just one room with a storage area and bathroom in back. Whatever she didn’t have in stock—although you’d be amazed at the selection Goldie offered in such a small space—we ordered in. Montanans were patient shoppers. With few options store-wise inBozeman, most people ordered everything but the basics from the Internet. There’s one Walmart, one Target, one Old Navy. Only one of everything. In a big city, if you drove two miles you came across a repeat store. Urban sprawl at its finest. Not here, although there were two sets of Golden Arches. One in town and one off the highway for the tourists who needed a Big Mac on the way toYellowstone. The anchor store of the town’s only mall was a chain bookstore. No Nordstrom or Bass Pro Shop out here. You shopped local or you went home.
In the case of the woman in front of me, I wished she’d just go home.
Don’t get me wrong, I liked helping people and I’m comfortable talking sex toys with anyone. But this time was definitely different. Big time.
Behind Miss Waffler stood a fireman. A really attractive, tall, well muscled one wearing a Bozeman Fire T-shirt and navy pants. Can you say hot? A hot man in uniform? Yup, it was a cliché, but this one was dead-on accurate. He’d come in while I was comparing the various dildo models before I went into the perks of having rotation for best female stimulation. The first time.
“Can you explain the features of each one again?” Miss Waffler had her fingers on the edge of the glass counter as if she were afraid to touch them. Petite, she was slim to the point of anorexic. Her rough voice said smoker, at least a pack a day. Her skin was weathered, either from cigarettes or the Montana weather, and wrinkles had taken over her face. She’d be pretty if she ate something and kicked the habit.
I gave her my best fake smile. “Sure.”
I darted a glance at the fireman over the woman’s shoulder. Sandy hair trimmed military short, blue eyes, strong features. Thirties. A great smile. He seemed perfectly content to wait his turn. If the humorous glint in his eye and the way he bit his lip, most likely to keep from smiling, was any indication, he was clearly enjoying himself. A radio squawked on his belt and he turned it down. Obviously my lesson on sexual aids was more important than a five-alarm fire.
Miss Waffler was completely oblivious of, and unaffected by, the fireman. I now knew why she wanted a dildo.
I picked up a bright blue model. “This one is battery powered and vibrates. Three settings. Good for clitoral stimulation.” I put it down and picked up another. “This one is glass. No batteries, so it’s meant for penetration. The best thing about it is you can put it in the freezer or warm it and it provides a varied experience.”
The woman made some ah sounds as I gave the details. I went through all the possibilities with her one at a time. I got to the tenth and final model. “This one is obviously realistic. It’s actually molded from the erect penis of a porn star. It’s made of silicone and has suction cups on the base.”
Fireman peered over the woman’s shoulder as I suction cupped the dildo to the glass counter. Thwap.
“You can attach it to a piece of furniture if you want to keep your hands free.”
Both fireman and Miss Waffler nodded their heads as if they could picture what I was talking about.
“I’ll take that one,” she said as she pointed to number ten. The eight inch Whopper Dong.
“Good choice.”
mishief_under_the_mistletoe_72dpi_200x300_2I rang up Miss Waffler’s purchase and she happily went off to take care of business.
And there he was. Mr. Fireman. And me. And dildo display made three.
“Um…thanks for waiting.” I tucked my curly hair behind an ear.
“Sure. You learn something new every day.” He smiled. Not just with his mouth, but with his eyes. Very blue eyes.
Right there, in the middle of my mother-in-law’s sex store, dildos and all, there was a spring thaw in my libido. It had long since gone as cold as Montanain January. Who could have blamed it with all of my dead husband’s shenanigans? But right then I felt my heart rate go up, my palms sweat from nerves. The fireman didn’t seem the least bit phased by my little sex toy talk. I, on the other hand, was having a hot flash like a menopausal woman just looking at him.
“I’m Jane. What can I help you with today?” Hi, I’m Jane. I’m thirty-three. I like hiking in the mountains, cross-country skiing, I’m a Scorpio, and I want to rip that uniform off your hot body. I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts.
He laughed and held out his hand. His grip was firm, his skin warm and a little rough. “Ty. Thanks, but no toys for me.” A pager beeped. He looked at it briefly and ignored it.
“Don’t you need to answer that? A fire or something?” I asked.
“Cat up a tree,” he joked.
I laughed, and heard my nerves in it. I took a deep breath to try and calm my racing heart. It didn’t work. All it did was make me discover how good he smelled. It wasn’t heavy cologne. Soap maybe. I didn’t really care if it was deodorant. He smelled fabulous.
“Actually, it was for station two. I’m here for your fire safety inspection.” He placed papers on the counter. Had he been holding them all this time? I hadn’t noticed. For the next fifteen minutes we went over fire inspection paperwork with an elephant in the room the shape of a dildo.

Werewolves are Great for Halloween! By Terry Spear

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Werewolves are Great for Halloween!
By Terry Spear

seal_wolf_xmas-300_2Or… Christmas, Thanksgiving, oh, heck, when they’re hot and hunky, they’re great anytime, don’t you think?

That’s what I think. I’ve never written a werewolf book set at Christmastime. Thanksgiving, yes! For the Silver wolf pack, they had to solve a crime and it happened during the big pack Thanksgiving gathering. But I had never written any kind of a Christmas story, soooo, my editor asked me if I’d like to write A SEAL Wolf Christmas? And I was like, YES!!!!

I love the Oregon Coast SEAL wolves and I had written two of the stories already, To Tempt the Wolf, where Hunter Greymere is a SEAL wolf, and then he was a team leader for three others. So for the next story, I had the perfect couple in mind. In A SEAL in Wolf’s Clothing, Hunter’s sister, Meara, and one of his teammates, Finn Emerson, have a conflictive beginning right away. She’s known him forever and no way, Jose, is she ever getting involved with a SEAL. Period. Never. Ever.

But he arrives after one of their team is hurt and he can’t get hold of Hunter, who he’s trying to warn about the dangerous situation. He’s off with his mate in Hawaii on a honeymoon, and Meara is home alone, intending to rent out the beach cottages to single, alpha male wolves only, and find one she’d really like to court.

Finn’s arrival doesn’t help at all. In the midst of all this, we have Bjornolf Jorgenson, who is a real ghost of a SEAL, as in ghosts the mission. And he and one of Hunter’s female undercover operatives end up in a real sparring session, where he ties her to her hotel room bed—with her own pantyhose!!!, and Hunter has to rescue her. Now, that story was just begging to be told. So when Deb asked about A SEAL Wolf Christmas, I totally forgot that I had to write Jaguar Fever first. (I had 6 other books contracted at the time.)

Huntress_for_Hire_new_1950_2And I jumped right on it. I had the most fun with it. Went from writing a word on the page, to 96,000 in record time. Some stories are just meant to be told. And the Christmas theme was sooo much fun.

Here’s an excerpt from A SEAL Wolf Christmas showing the mystery, the murder, the Christmas, humor, and the romance:

She had to admit Bjornolf was good for a rescue. She was also glad they had their own vehicles at the Christmas tree farm. That way she didn’t have to hear his guff all the drive back to the cottage about why she shouldn’t have gone alone tonight.

What she didn’t expect was for him to escort her through the parking lot, walk her all the way to her car, pull her into a hard embrace and kiss her like they were newlyweds. Long and penetrating, hard and gentle and every kind of delicious kiss in between. He finally released her and dragged in a breath of cold air. His heart was pounding furiously, his breath short, puffs of white vapor floating between them.

“Damn but you taste good, Anna,” he said, softly, his eyes dark with feral need as he rubbed her arms. The heat sizzled through her blood beneath the jacket and sweater she wore.

“He better be watching us,” Anna warned in a whisper, but she didn’t mean it. She loved the way he kissed.

Bjornolf gave her a devilish smile and a quick kiss on her cold nose, his mouth hot against her skin. “Follow you home, honey.” He pulled her door open and once she climbed in, he closed it for her. She waited for him to enter his own vehicle and start the engine before she drove off.

Anna assumed as soon as she parked and Bjornolf followed her into the house, that they’d talk. What she didn’t expect was that she’d wait for him to walk her to the door, even allowing him to take her hand as if they were wolves on a date.

What was wrong with her? With him?

They didn’t need to pretend to anyone here.

Bjornolf didn’t say a word, just held her hand possessively and escorted her to the porch. Then he unlocked the door and closed and locked it behind them.

“Did you want some cocoa?” he asked, as if he didn’t want the night to end.

She shook her head. “You have to go with Nathan to buy Christmas ornaments tomorrow.”

She saw a flash of disappointment cross his face. She was surprised he hadn’t said a word about her investigating the crime scene on her own.

She remembered the dog tags in her pocket and pulled them out. “I found these right before Stanton came across me.” She glanced down at them and read the inscription. “Thomas Cremer. The other dead man, maybe?”

Bjornolf wasn’t looking at the dog tags when his gaze met hers. He’d been observing her face with a mixture of respect and astonishment. “Now I know why Hunter recommended you for this job.”

She gave Bjornolf a slight smile, appreciating his comment more than a little.

He took the tags and examined them, sniffing them. “The second dead body we smelled.”

“Yes,” she said solemnly. “The man had also been in the service.”

“I’ll let Hunter know in the morning. Guess we ought to turn in.” He looked hopeful that she’d say he could join her in her bed.

She gave him a quick smile and headed down the hall before she changed her mind. “Night, Bjorn.” She called him the shortened version of his name that he’d given the man at the tree farm, as a humorous touch.

“Night, honey,” Bjornolf said as if they truly were newlyweds, and he’d be joining her in bed shortly.

************************
So, what do you think about the two of them? From the beginning when he tied her to a hotel room on a mission, and now to this? Would YOU like to be Anna, and why?

I’ll be giving away a print copy of A SEAL Wolf Christmas to a US address only. If a winner is International, I can substitute an ebook copy of Huntress for Hire, another suitable “Halloween” book that is all about hunting vampires and more! Romance, mystery, humor, murder… the usual.

Thanks to Cindy for having me here today, and for those who celebrate Halloween, Happy Halloween!

Terry_Spear,_right_2ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA Today bestselling author Terry Spear has written over fifty paranormal romance novels and medieval Highland historical romances. In 2008 Heart of the Wolf was named a Publishers Weekly Best Book of the Year. A retired officer of the U.S. Army Reserves, Terry also creates award-winning teddy bears that have found homes all over the world. She lives in Crawford, Texas. For more information, please visit www.TerrySpear.com, follow her on Twitter, @TerrySpear, and like her on Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/terry.spear. Join Terry’s Shifters at: http://terryspear.wordpress.com/

Excerpt from Heiress Bride

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My dear friend Jan Snyder was to be my guest today but Jan passed from this world in January of this year, so I’m filling in today on my blog. For today’s give away, I’m giving a $5 Starbucks cards and a copy of my book, Capital Bride, the first one in the Matchmaker & Co series. You can have it in any format, including paperback if you are in the US. All you have to do it leave me a comment on what you think of the excerpt, good or bad.

This is the first time our hero and heroine meet.

heiress_bride
“Miss Davenport….”
“Ella. Please.”
“Ella. I would like for you to lift your veil.”
“Are you sure you wish to do this in public. It can be…shocking.”
“I’m sure.” He squeezed her hand and then let go.
“Very well.” She lifted the heavy lace, prepared for him to be taken aback by the ugliness of it. She wasn’t prepared for him to lift his hand and gently trace the thin, putrid purple scar all the way from her left eye over her cheek and down her neck to the top of her collar.
There was no disdain on his face. His blue eyes took in everything and accepted it, but even so he said the last thing she expected.
“You are a very beautiful woman.”
She stood there with her mouth open until he raised her chin with his knuckle.
“Why are you surprised? Surely you have heard the compliment before.”
She shook her head to clear it and find her tongue. “Not since the accident, except from my brother. But he’s biased. He loves me.”
“He but states the obvious. Your scars do not detract from your beauty.”
“I must thank you because good manners dictate it. However, I believe we should see about getting you some glasses.”
He laughed. A rich, deep baritone. “I’m glad you have a sense of humor.”
“Who was joking?”
He laughed again. “Where are your trunks?”
“They’re being shipped. Joshua, my brother, didn’t want me to have to deal with them while changing trains.”
“Very smart. They will be delivered to Golden. Freight comes all the way there.”
“But not people? How odd.”
“Yes, you’d think they could add a passenger car. I’m sure they will soon.”
“What are the plans now? Are we to marry here or in Golden City?”
“I thought we could visit the Justice of the Peace while we’re here and then get to know each other a bit on the way to the ranch.”
He picked up her valise and headed to a wagon parked at one end of the platform. “I brought the buckboard anticipating you having trunks. I would have brought the carriage otherwise. It’s more comfortable.”
“Please don’t apologize. I prefer the open wagon.”
He cocked his head to one side in question.
She explained. “My accident was in a carriage. I was trapped inside for quite a while before they could get me out.”
“No wonder you don’t like riding in a carriage.”
They were at the buckboard. A simple wagon with a bench seat in front of a large flat bed with raised sides. The rear panel opened to allow for easier loading of freight or supplies.
“It’s not just carriages, but enclosed spaces of any kind. I much prefer the open air around.”
“As do I. The first fifteen years of my life were spent with my mother’s people. I slept outdoors whenever the weather permitted and sometimes when it didn’t.” He smiled and her stomach did a little flip.
He helped her up to the bench, lifting her as if she weighed no more than a sack of potatoes. She enjoyed the feel of his big hands on her waist. He made her feel feminine for the first time in a long time.
He went around the back of the wagon and climbed up to the bench.
“Giddyup.” He slapped the reins on the hindquarters of two matched blacks. Some of the finest looking horses she’d ever seen.
“Your horses are beautiful.”
“Thank you. Caught them myself.”
“Caught them?”
“There are wild mustangs that roam the mountains north of here. I went up with some of my ranch hands and we caught about ten of the animals and brought them back. Some were easier to break than others. These two took to the bit right away and then to the harness as well.”
“I guess I never really thought about how horses are trained.”
“Now you know.” He pulled the wagon to a stop.
She couldn’t think of anything to say, so stayed quiet, both of them reflecting on what was about to happen.
About a quarter of an hour later he pulled up in front of a large three story stone building. “Here’s the Justice’s office.”
He came around and helped her down. That tingle was back and it was darn disconcerting. She lowered her veil.
“You can leave it off.”
“No.” She shook her head and let the heavy veil fall into place. “You don’t know how people react. It is not something pleasant to see.”
He took her hand. “Very well, but after we are married, you will wear the veil no more. You will be my wife and I take pride in that.”
“You’re crazy. People back up when they see me. I don’t like that. I won’t wear it at home or with people who know us. Perhaps, eventually I won’t wear it at all, but I need time to adjust.”
Nathan nodded. “I understand. Some people back up when they see me, too.”
“Why? You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”
She watched him redden at her praise, obviously not used to it. “Thank you for the compliment. But that’s not what whites see. They see an Indian. A breed. That’s what those who don’t know me call me. A breed. You may get called names, too. Are you prepared for that?”
She thought about it for a moment before answering. “If you’re willing to put up with the comments you’ll hear about me, then I’ll try to put up with the name calling. But I won’t have you disparaging yourself in front of me. You have no need to apologize to anyone.”
“Nor do you.”
She blushed. It was so much easier to fiercely protect him from perceived injustices than see the ones against herself.
“I suppose I don’t. The accident wasn’t my fault. As a matter of fact, I don’t believe it was an accident.”
“You believe someone was trying to kill you?”
“Yes. Both my father and me. Now I worry for my brother’s safety. But he is forewarned and has loyal staff and friends, plus two bodyguards.” She paused to catch her breath. Looking at her soon to be husband, she added, “And I think I know who arranged it, but I can’t prove it. Yet.”
“Why would this person want you dead?”
“He was my father’s former business partner. He’s been trying to buy back his portion of the business since it became successful. When he sold it, the company, a ship building company, was not profitable. Since the war, it’s become very profitable and he wants back in. He even tried courting me to get it. “
“But how will eliminating you and your father change things for him?”
“If he gets rid of all of us, he can buy the ship yard from the probate court at ten cents on the dollar. I’d say that’s a motive for murder. My brother has two bodyguards who are with him twenty-four hours a day. I simply left the state. Hopefully, that will keep Angus MacGregor from finding me.”
They stopped at the double doors that led into the courthouse and to the Justice of the Peace’s office.
Nathan looked at her. “Are you ready?”
Her hands shook so she closed them into fists. “I am. Are you sure this is what you want? I’d understand if you want to change your mind.”
He shook his head and smiled. “I’m not changing my mind.”
“Neither am I. Let’s get this done.”
He held the door for her and she walked through to a new life on the other side.
The ceremony was short and sweet. Nathan lifted her veil and gave her the most amazing, gentlest kiss she’d ever had. Before her accident she’d had her share of beauxs. Young men who would sneak a kiss in the shadows of the garden. None of whom continued to come around after the accident. After they’d seen the damage done.
Nathan was different. He didn’t cringe. His eyes actually seemed to be filled with passion when he looked at her. Like he was staking a claim. And she guessed he did have a claim to her now. He was her husband. Husband. She’d thought she’d never have one. Now this beautiful man was hers and his kiss held the promise of good things to come.

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt. Please leave me a comment and tell me what you thought. Take a chance on winning the drawing for the prize.

Buy Links
Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00BWX9H30
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/15F5IqU
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/297289
Kobo: http://bit.ly/13ffhS5

Heiress Bride is out with special offer

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I’m doing something I’ve never done before. In order to celebrate the release of my latest book, HEIRESS BRIDE, the second book in the Matchmaker & Co series, I’m giving the first book, CAPITAL BRIDE, to everyone who sends me their receipt for the purchase of HEIRESS BRIDE, from any retailer. That’s right. for the next 5 days, I’ll give you a Smashwords coupon for CAPITAL BRIDE with your purchase of HEIRESS BRIDE, just send me your receipt to cindy@cynthiawoolf.com. That’s two for the price of one. Offer ends at Midnight on Monday, March 25, so take advantage of it soon.

Amazon Buy Link: http://amzn.com/B00BWX9H30

Here is a short excerpt from HEIRESS BRIDE. I hope it sparks your interest.

heiress_bride EXCERPT

She arrived in Denver on April 6, 1871. A date she would forever remember as the start of her life. It was almost like another birthday.

The weather was cold. The wind rushed off the plains and collided with the mountains to the west, keeping the chill in the air. The buildings weren’t as tall as in New York, but the wind still whistled between them and over the platform where she stood. She was glad of her good wool coat and lined boots. They kept her warm while she waited for Mr. Ravenclaw to find her. There wasn’t anyone else wearing a veil so she didn’t think he’d have much problem identifying her.

She wasn’t really sure what she expected, but it wasn’t the tall, devastatingly handsome man that approached her. He had a square jaw shaved clean and a tiny dimple in his chin. Black eyebrows slashed over his eyes, the color of which was hidden by the shadow from his hat, pulled low on his head. For once she was glad of her veil. He wouldn’t be able to see her mouth hanging open, gawking at him.

“Miss Davenport?”

“Yes. Are you Mr. Ravenclaw?”

“I am.”

Ella was surprised to find her hand trembled as she held it out to him. “Ella Davenport.”

He removed his glove and enveloped her hand in his big one. His fingers brushed the skin of her wrist just above her glove. The tingle that traveled clear to her toes was unexpected and her gaze snapped up to his. She looked up into the most beautiful blue eyes. They seemed to question the chemistry between them as much as she did.
He held her hand for what seemed like a lifetime and they simply starred at each other.

“Miss Davenport….”

“Ella. Please.”

“Ella. I would like for you to lift your veil.”

“Are you sure you wish to do this in public. It can be…shocking.”

“I’m sure.” He squeezed her hand and then let go.

“Very well.” She lifted the heavy lace, prepared for him to be taken aback by the ugliness of it. She wasn’t prepared for him to lift his hand and gently trace the thin, putrid purple scar all the way from her left eye over her cheek and down her neck to the top of her collar.

There was no disdain on his face. His blue eyes took in everything and accepted it, but even so he said the last thing she expected.

“You are a very beautiful woman.”

She stood there with her mouth open until he raised her chin with his knuckle.

“Why are you surprised? Surely you have heard the compliment before.”

She shook her head to clear it and find her tongue. “Not since the accident, except from my brother. But he’s biased. He loves me.”

“He but states the obvious. Your scars do not detract from your beauty.”

“I must thank you because good manners dictate it. However, I believe we should see about getting you some glasses.”

He laughed. A rich, deep baritone. “I’m glad you have a sense of humor.”

“Who was joking?”

Sneak Peek Sunday

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This is the next snipped from Heiress Bride, book two of the Matchmaker & Co. series. I hope you enjoy it and join me next week for the next installment.

heiress_brideShe explained. “My accident was in a carriage. I was trapped inside for quite a while before they could get me out.”

“No wonder you don’t like riding in a carriage.”

They were at the buckboard. A simple wagon with a bench seat in front of a large flat bed with raised sides. The rear panel opened to allow for easier loading of freight or supplies.

“It’s not just carriages, but enclosed spaces of any kind. I much prefer the open air around.”

“As do I. The first fifteen years of my life were spent with my mother’s people. I slept outdoors whenever the weather permitted and sometimes when it didn’t.” He smiled and her stomach did a little flip.

He helped her up to the bench, lifting her as if she weighed no more than a sack of potatoes. She enjoyed the feel of his big hands on her waist. He made her feel feminine for the first time in a long time.

GIVEAWAY One commentor will win a copy of Capital Bride, the first in the Matchmaker & Co. series in any format they like. (Paperbacks are US only)

Go here for the other participants in Sneak Peek Sunday. http://sneak-peek-sunday.blogspot.com/

Glimpse into the Timewalker series by Michele Callahan

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72dpi_silver_storm_cover2_2Have fun and hold on to your hats…time travel is a fast and dangerous business.

If you could travel through time, what would you go back and change? Would you assassinate a villain? Prevent disease? Stop a disaster before it happens? Invest in Google, Microsoft or Apple before anyone knew how big they would become? Or would you be afraid to alter the time line and allow events to unfold no matter how sinister? Tell me, and you could win. I’m giving away a $5 Starbucks gift card and a free copy of the first two books in the TIMEWALKER series: RED NIGHT and SILVER STORM this week!

I am honored to be here and excited to give you all a glimpse into how everything started in Book 1 of my Timewalker Series, RED NIGHT. My heroines travel through time to battle an unseen enemy and overwhelming odds. Luckily, there are some perks, such as unusual paranormal powers and one Uber-Hot man willing to fight next to her and make love to her like there’s no tomorrow (for them…there might not be.) I hope you enjoy this excerpt from the first book with Alexa, a woman who can make herself invisible, and the handsome genius she’s sent through time to assassinate…

RED_-_web_-_small_2RED NIGHT: Timewalker Chronicles – Book 1
(Just $.99 on Amazon Kindle)

Prologue
Despite years of warnings, Alexa was not prepared for the freezing shock of her journey. She wanted to scream in agony, but she had no air to breathe in this in-between dimension. Her mother had explained the frigid reality of the time strands, how her naked flesh would feel as if it were being systematically stripped to her bones by endless shards of splintering ice. This one-way trip to the past would last less than a minute. One minute in her own personal Purgatory, and her sins had been many. So, she gritted her teeth and waited. Waited for the agony to subside. Waited for the nirvana of soft green grass brushing at her skin like a thousand tickling fingertips.

Her mother had been a Timewalker, and her mother before her, and so on, since the Archivers had begun recording the Chronicles Of Time. Death or Service. That had been her ancestor’s choice, and the eldest daughter in each generation now owed the Archivers a life. The family gift — invisibility — had been handed down from mother to daughter for generations. Her heritage swelled her head and chest with pride. But the unrelenting grip of her ancestry also squeezed her with arduous pressure, demanding she not fail. She did not want to be the first of her line to bring her name dishonor. However, a far heavier burden threatened to pull her into the suffocating quicksand of fear. Billions of lives were at stake. Billions.

She would not fail. She was ready. Her mother had ensured that, taught her how to use her gift to cloak her presence, prepared her for the call of the Archivers and their freezing strands. The Timewalkers were never called upon to ride the strands of time unless the assignment was of catastrophic importance. There was no such thing as an easy task. She had also warned her daughter not to fall victim to the pounding of the blood, the passion of her Gift, until it was safe to do so. The distraction would endanger the strand of time she must now, and forever after, walk upon.
Forever. In a strange world.

Alone.

Panic rose in a crescendo to choke her. Then, as quickly as her roller coaster ride through this icy hell began, it was over. Precious air flooded her starving lungs with heat. She lay semi-conscious on the soft ground and tried to get her bearings as a torrent of warm rain crashed down upon her. A single tear escaped and mingled with the rain on her face. Reality squeezed her heart so tightly she feared it would stop beating. She had arrived, unscathed. There was no going back.
Earth 8. Midnight, May 15, 2012. Unless the Archiver had erred.
Heaven help her then. Heaven help the world.

Chapter One

Never once, in all the years of her rebellious youth, had she ever been a thief. How ironic that now, when the fate of this world hung in the balance, everything she had was contraband. She leaned back into the taxi’s sticky plastic seat and hoped the crisp white cotton Capri pants and shirt wouldn’t be ruined by the filth. A twenty-dollar bill burned in her pocket to pay the cabbie. Alexa sunk her teeth into a huge red apple and hoped the fruit would provide enough energy to keep her going for a few hours. Doom Central was calling her name.

Alexa laughed out loud at her own joke and ignored the cab driver’s questioning glance. The overworked cabbie should be used to seeing all sorts of odd things in a city the size of San Antonio. But even here, she knew she was unique. Her waist-length hair was braided and so pale it gleamed silver. Her eyes flashed a vivid blue in a heart-shaped face. Father had always said she was sixty-two inches of trouble wrapped up in a deceptively innocent looking package. The thought made her want to laugh. And cry.

Too soon the cab driver dropped her off at her destination, one of a handful of Biosafety Level 4 laboratories in the country. The lucky place which, in three days time, would be the epicenter of the end of the world. Earth 8 had died a slow and painful death. It took just under five years from the first diagnosed case of “Red Death” for ninety-five percent of the world’s population to be wiped out. And it all started here. No-Where-Ville, Texas. A party like any other…a night colored red with blood.

Yes. She had three more days to track down the two men in charge, erase every piece of data related to the virus, and break into that lab and kill every single cell of “Mutation-6 of Ebola” in existence. M-6 they called it, until it escaped. Then it became the “Red Death”, named for the hemorrhagic nature of the victim’s death. They should have called it, “stupid-what-the-hell-were-we-thinking?”

“Men.” The car stopped. Alexa slid out of the back seat of the cab, ignored the driver’s mumbling, and handed him the twenty through his open window with a bright smile pasted on her full pink lips. “Always think they can beat Mother Nature.”
Alexa turned away from the cab. The driver took off mumbling about the faults of crazy women. When she was sure he was gone, she quickly jogged to within sight of the eight hundred twenty-one acre complex.

It was still early. She stopped to lean against the fence and calm her mind. It took tremendous energy to draw the light to her body and redirect it, rendering herself invisible. Cloaking, her mother called it. The semi-dark of pre-dawn would help her avoid unwanted notice. Once she was forced to cloak her presence, she wouldn’t be able to sustain the illusion for more than a couple of hours without a break. And then she’d be so hungry, she’d probably kill for a sandwich.

She patted the protein bar and mozzarella cheese stick in her pants pocket for courage and mumbled to herself, “Such is the glamorous life of the Timewalkers.”
The building employees changed shifts at 8:00 a.m. A quick glance at her stolen Tinkerbelle watch told her she had fifteen minutes. Already, parking lot activity was picking up. Time to move in.

Alexa closed her eyes and stilled the chaos of her mind, called upon the quiet, watchful awareness within herself that allowed her to use her gift. She envisioned herself a small white crystal in a river of light, and pushed the rays out and around her until it flowed like water over a small rock. Many times she’d watched her mother, practiced, and studied the effect in a mirror. It was like looking at something you thought was there, but could never quite see. Bright light made it harder to hide the soft edges of the effect. It wasn’t perfect, but no one could see her unless they knew what to look for.

Luckily for her, no one would be looking. Besides, no one could be truly awake at this ungodly hour. She needed at least two cups of coffee to form a coherent thought before noon. This morning she’d had five.

Silent as a shadow, she crept up to the double glass doors at the entrance and scouted the parking lot for someone she could follow inside…

READ MORE… http://amzn.to/UKw5vf

NEW RELEASE!!!! SERIES FINALE!!

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I’ve released the final book in my Swords of Gregara series. Honora is the best of the three I think. I fell in love with her and with Joridan, her hero. Here is a short excerpt from the book.

I’d love to have some comments and feedback of what you think. I’m giving an ebook to one commentor (either a Kindle gift or a Smashwords coupon, winners choice) and a $5 Starbucks card to another.

You can find the book on:
Amazon – http://amzn.com/B00AS4MOJI
Smashwords – http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/267920
All Romance eBooks –http://bit.ly/RMlLmf

HONORAEXCERPT

“Oww” a woman’s voice awash with pain reached his ears.

“You disappoint me, Honora. You continue to try to escape me. When will you learn?” asked a whiney voiced man.

The whip struck flesh. Again the woman moaned but didn’t scream. She didn’t scream.

When he woke again he was not alone but the man with the whip was gone. Chained across the room from him, hung by her wrists, was a woman. He could see the lash marks on her back. Lash upon lash, new over old. They obstructed the beautiful tattoo of a dragon on her back. The blood hard to see within the red of the dragon.

Crawling to her he released her hands from the chains holding her up. She collapsed in a heap on the floor. He crawled back to his side of the room as darkness overtook him once more.

*****

The dried blood on her back cracked with each movement, but she worked through the pain as she stretched. Breathed deep and accepted the pain. Her sword weighed heavier in her hand than usual. More evidence of the lashing two nights ago. She looked down at the unconscious man at her feet. A new recruit. A Zolthor, like herself. Another reason Perdor punished her for her attempted escape, her sixth try in as many months.

This last punishment was the worst. Five lashes. Not enough to incapacitate her but enough to make her remember. Perdor wanted her to be able to train the new slave. He wanted them to be a team, good enough to take on all contenders. He’d be the only owner with two Zolthor fighting for him. Not just one, but a team. He was practically wetting himself in anticipation of the beras that he’ll win with a team of Zolthor fighters.

Again she looked down on the naked man. Long brown lashes lay against his cheek. A nice contrast to his golden blond hair. What color eyes did they hide? Blue? Green? Brown perhaps. She’d find out soon enough.

He was a beautiful man. Well formed. Broad shoulders. Trim waist. Long muscular legs. He looked like a warrior. Would be a good fighter. Maybe even a good lover as he appeared well endowed there as well.

He’d awakened from the drug induced sleep long enough to crawl over and release her from the chains. For that she was grateful. Her wrists didn’t hurt as much as usual because of him. Using her blades was easier than it had been after her previous punishments.

Time to wake up the sleeping man and get him trained. Time was short and she intended to make the most of it. He would learn or he would die.

Six paragraph Monday

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These are six paragraphs from my upcoming book, The Swords of Gregara – Honora. I hope you like them. I’m giving one commentor a copy of the first in the series, The Swords of Gregara – Jenala, in either paperback or Kindle egift. For another commentor I have a $5 Starbucks card.

“Oww” a woman’s voice awash with pain reached his ears.

“You disappoint me, Honora. You continue to try to escape me. When will you learn?” asked a whiney voiced man.

The whip struck flesh and the woman moaned but didn’t scream. She didn’t scream.

When he woke again he was not alone. Chained across the room from him, hung by her wrists, was a woman. He could see the lash marks on her back. Lash upon lash, new over old. They obstructed the beautiful tattoo of a dragon on her back.

Crawling to her he released her hands from the chains holding her up. She collapsed in a heap on the floor. He crawled back to his side of the room as darkness overtook him once more.

*****

The dried blood on her back cracked with each movement, but she worked through the pain as she stretched. Breathed deep and accepted the pain. Her sword weighed heavier in her hand than usual. More evidence of the lashing two nights ago. She looked down at the unconscious man at her feet. A new recruit. A Zolthor like herself. Another reason Perdor punished her for her attempted escape, her sixth try in as many months.

Excerpt from Gnome for the Holidays by Jennifer Zane

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Welcome, my friend Jennifer Zane to my blog today. Jennifer will be giving away one of her ebooks (winners choice) to one lucky commentor today, so be sure to leave her a comment.

Thanks, Cynthia for having me here today! I was at one of the big box hardware stores last month—before Halloween, mind you, and all, ALL of the Christmas decorations were out. Now, a week before Thanksgiving, I drive around and see more holiday lights up every day. Needless to say, no matter where you live in the US, it seems Christmas is starting earlier and earlier. (All those election ads on TV- the only thing positive about them is they delayed the inevitable onslaught of holiday commercials by at least a week!)

Since everyone is getting into the holiday spirit now (forget Thanksgiving!), I think my new book release is right on time. Gnome For The Holidays is the third book in the Gnome Novel Series. Some of the same great characters make a return appearance—yes, Goldie and her meddling, for a holiday story of humor and matchmaking.

I hope your holiday season is wonderful—no matter when it starts for you.
Jennifer Zane

Here is an excerpt from Gnome For The Holidays, on sale now at Amazon and AllRomanceEbooks.com.

“MeMe Hardy. It’s been too long!” Goldie called to me as I stomped my boots. She was the owner of Goldilocks, the local, and only, adult store in town. She’d opened it well before I was born and it was practically a historic landmark, although I’m sure Goldie wouldn’t appreciate that description. It sold anything and everything sex related, from condoms to crotchless panties to fingertip vibrators. Even in a town of less than thirty thousand, business boomed.

I winced at the childhood nickname. When I turned eighteen and went away to college in California, I was able to shed that moniker and take on my given name, Emma. But there were a few die-hards in town still that remembered me when I was three and couldn’t say my own name right. I’d been back in town six years and was pushing thirty, but I’d still be MeMe to some. My mother, my aunt Sissy, a silly name in its own right, and Goldie.

“Sorry I’m late,” I tell Goldie and Violet, both behind the counter, piles of what looked like lingerie spread out before them. I pulled my knit cap from my head and tucked my blond hair behind my ears, taming the static out of it.

My friend Violet looked at me trying not to laugh and mouthed, “MeMe?”

I rolled my eyes at her. “I got stuck behind a snow plow.”

Goldie nodded as she took her glasses off her nose and let them dangle over her ample bosom by a sparkly, rhinestone covered chain about her neck. “That’s the safest place to be on a day like this. What can I get for you today?” Goldie looked me over, as if by looking at me she could guess just what I needed. “A new bra.”

Oh, great. She could see gravity setting in through my heavy winter coat.

She rubbed her chin. “No, you’re here for a vibrator.”

I could feel my cheeks heat at her words but I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Nope,” I answered as I shook my head, leaving her hanging. Talking vibrators with Goldie, who was friendly with my mom, was just about as bad as talking about it with my mom herself. Not that the vibrator in my bedside stand couldn’t use an update, or at least new batteries, but I wasn’t planning on telling her that.

“No vibrator for me today, Goldie. Thanks though.” I smiled brightly.

“Well, just give me a call when you’re ready and I’ll pick out a top of the line model for you. You know,” she waggled her eyebrows and twirled her finger in the air, “the one that has that spinning middle.”

My mouth fell open at the thought. I wasn’t sure if I should be mortified or intrigued at the very idea.