The Finish Line by Leslie Scott

“Whoo!” I shouted once I was safely back inside, tucked against Jordan. “I haven’t felt this—alive—in a long time.”

“No.” Jordan shook his head when I tried to hand him the money. “Your bet, your win.”

I tucked the bill into my pocket. He was the reason I could feel like this. It was all Jordan’s making, every bit of it. I was happy, free, aroused, and warm.

He was watching me more than he was watching the road, but I didn’t care.

Tension built on adrenaline and arousal filled the air. Making it so thick I had to force my breaths in and out even with the windows down. My skin was sizzling with heat, the faster he drove the hotter I got.

I was on the verge of writhing in the seat when his hand slid up my thigh, a little too high, and back down again. I gasped at the contact. His hand went perfectly still. With my heart pumping fast in my chest, I waited for something, anything. When nothing came, I used my own to guide his hand back up my thigh. I tucked my hair behind my ear and bit my lip against the rush of pleasure.

I turned and pressed myself against him, my lips seeking purchase on the warm skin of his neck.

How could one man be so attractive, so arousing? It had always been like God had made him with special specs for me.


Saturday Spotlight -Forsaking Hope by Beverley Oakley

FH Banner Forsaking Hope

Fair Cyprians of London

By Beverley Oakley

 Beverley is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Please use the rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.

About the Book:

Two years ago, she missed their secret assignation and disappeared without a trace. Now the divine “Miss Hope” is in Felix Durham’s bed – a ‘surprise cheering-up gift’ sourced by his friends from London’s most exclusive brothel. Felix is in heaven – and he wants to stay there.

So does Hope, but she can’t.

Hope Merriweather lives by a code of honour – even if she’s a prostitute.

Having sold her soul, she’s prepared to sacrifice everything else to protect what she believes in.

Even if honour – in her eyes – comes at the cost of thieving and breaking hearts. Including her own.

Available for preorder here:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Google Play




Chapter One

Wilfred Hunt.

If there was a name to tip Hope into the abyss of despair she was hearing it spill from Madame Chambon’s lips now as the older woman directed Hope to take a seat in the reception room, presumably so Madame could loom oppressively over her.

With her hands on her ample, expensively padded hips, Hope’s benefactress—procuress, employer, and gaoler were other monikers—sent Hope a beetling look that needed no interpreting: Regardless of Hope’s true feelings, Hope must project the required show of warmth and delight at being the chosen one.

Madame patted the side of her faux curls. Years of hot irons had reduced her hair to the texture of wool but her crowning glory these days was supplemented by the lustrous locks of those girls who dared cross her – before they were thrown back into the street from where most had come.

Nevertheless, Hope had to make her resistance clear. Surely Madame who knew her history would understand her loathing for this man, above all others. “I shan’t do it,” she whispered. There was little evidence of the willful child and wild adolescent who’d been the despair of her family. “I won’t—”

Outside, the noise of the traffic rumbling over the cobbles and the shrill calls of competing vendors settled upon the tense silence. Madame Chambon’s other girls ranged around the sumptuously appointed room on red velvet upholstered banquettes, watched the exchange with prurient fascination. Hope knew it had been a calculated ploy of Madame’s to conduct her interview in public so that Hope would serve as an example to them.

No one crossed Madame Chambon.

The shrill cry of a fishmonger caused Madame to look pointedly out of the window. With something between a smile and a sneer, she smoothed a Marcel wave. “Is that where you plan to return, Hope? The gutter?” Her nose twitched and in the sunlight that filtered into the room, the grooves chiseled between mouth and chin were thrown into harsh relief, highlighted rather than hidden by the thick powder she used to conceal her age.

Madame Chambon’s comfort, now and into retirement, depended on obedient girls. Hope knew that as well as anyone. She’d had to bury her rebellious streak just to ensure food in her belly.

The Frenchwoman raised a chiseled brow and began to pace slowly in front of her girls. A painter with an eye for beauty would have been ecstatic at capturing such a spectacle on canvas. The discerning young man about town who visited 56 Albemarle Street was frequently rendered ecstatic by the range of delights Madame Chambon’s girls offered in addition to the visual.

“You forget yourself, Hope. I put a roof over your head and deck you out as handsomely as Mr. Charles Worth ever did for his most discerning customer.” There was acid in Madame Chambon’s tone. “But for me, you’d be starving and glad of the pennies you could trade for a grubby stand-up encounter in a dark alley.” Madame Chambon thrust out her bosom and breathed through her nose, her response a calculated warning to the other girls arranged in various languid poses about the ornately decorated reception room that intransigence would not be tolerated.

“Mr. Hunt has requested you.” She paused and when Hope remained silent, though her stance and expression left no one in any doubt as to her horror regarding this enforced assignation, went on. “Remember what I told you—what I tell all my girls when they first come here? The past must be forgotten the moment you step over my threshold. You are reborn, remodeled, refashioned into the most exquisite delectation of womanhood. A marquess, a prince, is well recompensed for the tidy sum he hands over in order to enjoy your sparkling wit, to converse with you in French, or if he chooses, on philosophy…to enjoy your charms…and,” she added significantly, “your gracious hospitality and tender ministrations to his needs. That is our agreement and you are no different. If Mr. Hunt wishes you, Hope, to attend him at his residence then you will go.”

Faith, one of the kinder girls, patted Hope’s arm in silent solidarity. Hope didn’t expect any of them to speak up in her defense. Not when they all relied on Madame Chambon as much as she did to provide them with the necessities of life. Anything more than that was part of a strict contract that indentured a girl for life unless she was able to secure a generous benefactor to settle Madame’s severance bill. The fine clothes were part of the charade, necessary to entice a more elite clientele. Hope’s exquisite wardrobe did not belong to her though she’d have forsaken all the dupion silk and Spitalfields lace for the freedom of the gutter and to be mistress of her own destiny – and her body – if she could only be sure of a plate of gravy and potatoes every second day.

Closing her eyes, she hung her head, the carefully coiffed curls that fell forwards brushing against her tear-streaked cheeks. It was as well that they not be in evidence. Tears, weakness, vulnerability were like a red rag to a bull where Madame Chambon was concerned.

“How long…do I have to prepare myself?” She was not so stupid she couldn’t admit defeat when there was no alternative. Obduracy was beaten out of one, but tears ensured a girl got the very worst next assignment. Their clients weren’t all marquesses and princes, though they did require a very fat pocket book.


“Tomorrow.” Hope repeated it in a leaden tone, and stared at her hands, clasped in her lap; white-knuckled. As white as the rabbit-fur that edged her fashionable black-and-white striped satin cuirass. Hope had the tall, slim figure suited to the scandalously tight tie-back skirts that were all the rage, the back flowing into a train adorned with elaborate swags and trimmed with bows. She’d turned heads the length of Oxford Street as she’d promenaded along the pavement following a walk through Hyde Park earlier that afternoon. In fact, for the first time in two years, she’d almost felt happy as she’d pretended a sense of freedom in the afternoon sun, blocking her mind to the prison to which she was returning.

She drew in her breath and forced herself to be brave, knowing the punishment she’d invite for daring to speak her mind. “Please tell Mr. Hunt I will see him again under sufferance.”

Madame Chambon’s voice was surprisingly caramel. “Well then, now that you have made your objection clear, Hope, you will be pleased to hear that Mr. Hunt’s desires are not only motivated by fond memories of your no-doubt mutually satisfying congress. I believe he wishes to acquaint you with news of your family.”

Hope hid her shock. “I have no family.” With care, she modified her tone so it was as leaden as before though emotion roiled close to the surface.

“Not even a sister?”

Hope raised her chin. Here was the chink and Madame knew it. The woman did her research.

Aware that the other girls who surrounded her were tense with anticipation, Hope struggled not to respond. Camaraderie existed at surface level but one never knew when it might profit one to have the dirt on a fellow prostitute. It was, clearly, another reason Madame Chambon had chosen to make this conversation public.

“Mr. Hunt will see you at nine tomorrow evening,” said the so-called Frenchwoman who, it was whispered, was from the gutters of Lambeth, not Paris. “At his apartments in Duke Street. Now go and prepare yourself for Lord Farrow. Married to a monolith like the venerable Lady Farrow, he likes his girls vivacious and free-spirited. There’ll be less coin in your pocket if you sully the transaction with that long face, Hope.”


beverley-eikli-author-pic-copyAuthor Info:

 Beverley Oakley was seventeen when she bundled up her first her 500+ page romance and sent it to a publisher. Unfortunately drowning her heroine on the last page was apparently not in line with the expectations of romance readers so Beverley became a journalist.

Twenty-six years later Beverley was delighted to receive her first publishing contract from Robert Hale (UK) for a romance in which she ensured her heroine was saved from drowning in the icy North Sea.

Since 2009 Beverley has written more than thirteen historical romances, mostly set in England during the early nineteenth century. Mystery, intrigue and adventure spill from their pages and if she can pull off a thrilling race to save someone’s honour – or a worthy damsel from the noose – it’s time to celebrate with a good single malt Scotch.

Beverley lives with her husband, two daughters and a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy the size of a pony opposite a picturesque nineteenth-century lunatic asylum. She also writes Africa-set adventure-filled romances tarring handsome bush pilot heroes, and historical romances with less steam and more sexual tension, as Beverley Eikli.

You can get in contact with Beverley at:

 Website | Facebook | Pinterest | Twitter | Goodreads



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Sultry Nights Spotlight


SN Tour BannerSultry Nights

A Limited Edition Romance Collection

Containing Stories from:  Nicole Morgan, Jocelyn Dex, Alison Foster, Kate Richards, Linda O’Connor, Samantha Holt, Jerrie Alexander, Whitley Cox, Krista Ames, Ursula Sinclair, Measha Stone, Tuesday Embers, Siera London,  Rachel Shane, Bonnie Phelps, Misha Elliott, Alyson Reynolds, Jenna Bayley-Burke,  Madison Michael, Pepper Goodrich, Marcia James, Destiny Blaine

The authors are giving away lots of goodies with this tour. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Don’t forget you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.

About Sultry Nights:

Love, passion, romance, and desire… No matter what your preference, this set of 22 hot and sexy reads has just what you need. From surprise love affairs to bad boys that we can’t help but fall for, and couples that were meant to be, this compilation from Romance Collections is sure to please your every single need.

Sultry Nights Buy Links:



Bedeviled by Madison MichaelBedeviled MM

 Can a love be built on lies?

Charlotte Roche is escaping a menacing threat in Boston when she moves to Chicago for a new job and a new man. Alex is smart, sexy and quickly getting under Charlotte’s skin. A shared love of running gives the sassy beauty an excuse to be near her heart’s desire, but can Charlotte run Alex from the track to the bedroom without divulging her past and risking everything?

Alex Gaines, wealthy banker and philanthropist, has held women at arm’s length all his life to protect long-held secrets of his own. Now he is torn between loving the alluring Charlotte and protecting his dual lives. Can Alex trust Charlotte with the truth or is risking his fortune and family to pursue her? Can the two fall in love when they are bedeviled by lies and half-truths?

When danger follows Charlotte to Chicago threatening her safety and their futures, Charlotte and Alex a forced to make a hard decision – choose the secrets of their past or a future together.

Bedeviled is the third novel in the Beguiling Bachelor series, a trio of steamy contemporary romances set amidst the luxury of Chicago’s elite society.

Couple in loveFlirting With Fate By Jerrie Alexander

 There is no such thing as accident; it is fate misnamed. –Napoleon Bonaparte

Elle Reagan isn’t about to stand by and let a con-artist get away with stealing her grandmother’s life savings. While the legal system moves at a snail’s pace, Elle promises to bring him to justice. She follows him to a ski resort in Colorado, where she hopes to get the evidence needed to put him away for good. But she didn’t count on her roommate being a distraction, because he wasn’t supposed to be her brother’s best friend.

Detective Logan Ford has denied his desire to take Elle into his arms since they were teenagers, but when his partner asks him to follow her to Castle Alainn to keep her out of trouble, Logan finds himself unable to refuse her. He agrees to help catch a thief instead of convincing her to pack her bags and go home. To make matters worse, he can’t seem to remember why he should keep his distance from the delectable, infuriating, independent Elle.

Elle and Logan surrender to their attraction, but as their passion ignites, her plot is discovered. A killer will do whatever it takes to silence her and destroy a love that was destined to last a lifetime.

 All I Want By Misha Elliott

Excerpt:all I want cover

She wanted to know what would happen if she dared to kiss him. The boy who filled so many of her dreams and fantasies was here, right now with her. How hot would it be to feel his lips against her own?

Love Unleashed coverLove Unleashed By Marcia James

His best laid plans…

DJ “Rabid Ron” Hart has a grand scheme to win back the woman he loves. It involves an animal adoption fair, a goofy hairless dog named Charlie and an offer she can’t refuse.

Her hidden desires…

Cara Wilson has fantasies she’s never admitted, and her ex-boyfriend still features in her erotic dreams. If only he didn’t keep his bad-boy urges so tightly leashed.

Tonight they’ll learn that winning sometimes takes losing control.

Forbidden Distraction By Siera LondonFD Book Cover

Sex therapist, Dr. Vivianne Sloan is the consummate professional. Adhering to the highest ethical standards and doling out her vast clinical expertise, her clients are seeing a heat wave in the bedroom while Vivianne has to get hers from the Florida sun. Looking for some sexual healing, the one man she fantasizes about, a fellow colleague and her boss is strictly off-limits.

Obstetrician Gynecologist, Jared Pierce, has a flourishing medical practice. Outside of caring for his mother, there’s nothing he spends more time on, except thinking about Vivianne Sloan. She’s a distraction he can’t live with or without. He wants to teach her everything he knows about the art of lovemaking, but the woman plays by the rules.

When Vivianne decides to serve as a sexual surrogate, Jared is driven to give the shy beauty a dose of passion so potent she becomes addicted after one night in his arms. What happens when these two forbidden lovers decide to break the rules?

WC-Quick&Dirty book coverQuick & Dirty By Whitley Cox

The best way to get over a millionaire is to get under a billionaire.

 Humiliated and angry Parker Ryan is ready to erase every last trace of her ex from her mind, body, and soul. Of course she can be adventurous. Exciting. Sexy. No matter what he said. She needs an exorcism, and Tate McAllister and the island of Moorea in Tahiti are just the man and place to do it. Tate is perfect for the job: billionaire resort owner, scuba instructor, philanthropist and, let’s face it, sex god. So maybe the affair isn’t the wisest move when she has to write her damn feature piece and review the hotel, but if he’s ready and willing to wow her in and out of the bedroom for the next ten days, the fling will be worth it. Parker can get the job done and have Tate fulfill all her fantasies, and she won’t, repeat won’t fall in love with the man. Even if every part of her wants to.


She thought she could run, but he’d never let her get away.

Sarah Bennet walked has finally found the break in her career. The sort of story to win her a byline in a serious newspaper. The only problem is, the people in the story don’t want it told. And they are willing to do anything to stop her.

Jeremy has watched Sarah from the sidelines as she’s progressed in career as a journalist waiting for the moment that he can finally retake what he lost years ago. He will protect her. He will save her from her recklessness. And by the time he’s done, he will own her.

Carried Away CoverCarried Away by Jenna Bayley-Burke

Lust brought them together. Will love tear them apart?

Any woman would willingly lock lips with sexy Mateo Torres.

But probably not on stage.

During a lap dance.

At her ex’s bachelor party.

Any man would easily get wrapped up in Carrie Nielson.

But probably not with a crowd cheering them on.

For his last performance.

As an exotic dancer.

Mateo has a past as dark as his eyes, but the best way to convince everyone she hasn’t lost her damn mind is to pretend they’re lovers.

Until they’re not pretending.

Frozen- The Martini Lounge by Ursula SinclairLAVERNEMARTINILOUNGEFROZENFINAL


Ever have that one perfect moment in time, when you know exactly what you’re supposed to do, who you’re supposed to be in life? Well, that had been me, and it certainly had lasted for more than a moment. I’d decided to pledge myself to God and help others in his name. Selfless, that was me and I was weeks away from taking my final vows. Then something happened, I met someone and suddenly I questioned everything.


I’ve always lived my life on my terms. Granted, I never thought I’d grow up to be a male stripper. But what the hell, I made good money and now, I had a shot at something more. And the women. Yeah, I loved women but they came and went. I preferred it that way. Didn’t matter which of us left first, as long as one of us did. I didn’t do attachments. Then something happened. I’m no saint, but I saved someone and wanted an attachment.

Only to find out I could never have her.

23584498_10156020489863678_714722810_nMore than Friends by Krista Ames

Lanie Matthews is the classic girl next door.  Jake Cooper is her best friend.  Will they ever be more than friends?  One lust-filled night may prove more than they both expected.


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AuThursday- Samantha Anne

Please welcome Contemporary Romance Author Samantha Anne to the Clog Blog!

Tell us a little about yourself and your background?
I’ve been a writer and a dreamer for as long as I can remember. I grew up in The Bronx NY, raised in the heart of New York City. I’ve seen some of the best of the boroughs, and I’ve also seen some of the worst. All of it plays a big role in what makes me who I am, and is part of the reason why I feel I inject a ton of escapism into my writing. Currently living in Texas, I’m still writing within the romance genre – working on my 3rd novel, fine-tuning my screenwriting skills, and considering additional creative pursuits that are near and dear to my heart. I’m a creative when all is said and done after all, so I’m always looking to broaden my horizon and make new things.

How do you make time to write?
I set blocks of time to write, prioritizing it as if I have a part time job, and protect it fiercely. It’s important to treat that time like anyone would a traditional job, and not let family or friends monopolize that time because they might not understand what it is to devote time to a sort of job that doesn’t involve punching a time clock.

Do you believe in writer’s block?
I do – it happens! It’s important, in my mind, to acknowledge that the noise in our brain exists; this makes it easier to combat, so that you can better re-center yourself, pull yourself back to the present task, and ultimately shut that block down. My favorite article about writer’s block is by Gail Godwin, titled “The Watcher at the Gate”. The Watcher, Gail expressed, is your inner critic, the jerk who criticizes your every move as you begin to transfer your ideas from brain to paper. She also tells us how important it is to silence that guy, and how to get over the hump. Check out the article here:

Tell us a bit about the genre you write and why you love it.
My last few books have falle under the Contemporary Romance genre, I do love romance novels and what they’ve evolved into, and I’m happy and proud to be a part of that. They are more real and representative of the average female, even while our writers continue to create characters that are stronger and more empowered. And I am saying that while catching up on romance series involving  Sci-Fi and Dragons! It’s so amazing to be a part of a world where love and life exists everywhere, from the every day to the most fantastical of situations. And today’s She-Ros (She-Heroes *smile*) are ass-kicking, whiskey drinking, outspoken femme fatales who are just as worthy of being celebrated as the gorgeous male characters we write that sweep them off their feet!

How are you publishing your recent book and why?
I’m excited to submit this manuscript to Crimson Romance, now an imprint of Simon & Schuster, as I have my last two books. I’ve loved working with their team, and I can say honestly that they’ve pushed me hard to draw the best out of all my work.

Are you an Introvert or an Extrovert? How does this affect your writing?
I’m absolutely an introvert, but with a little extrovert peppered in. It’s probably more easily explained if there’s wine or beer involved (smile). It probably has affected my writing in that I, like any writer, is limited to my experiences when it comes to truly authentic writing, if that makes sense. I don’t believe that my ability to create dialogue has suffered, because I have tons of friends with whom I do a lot of talking (or texting!), but what may suffer is my grasp of how people are in general, outside of my circle. There are certainly traits and behaviors among people that you don’t get to see by watching movies, news reports, or documentaries.
What is your favorite motivational phrase?
I have three! They keep me feeling good, and they keep me trying at everything I do:
“Be who you are, and say what you feel – because those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind don’t matter!” – Theodore Geisel, aka Dr. Seuss
“Art must be seen. Art must be heard. You must show someone your shit.” – Taylor Dane, Recording Artist
“Live a why not life, man. Cuz we’re all going to die screaming. …take the shot. The shot is always worth taking.” – Kevin Smith
What advice would you give to aspiring writers?
First and foremost, don’t ask yourself why – ask ‘Why not?’ (see the quote above?). Then write. And don’t stop writing. In between? Read. See thing. Travel, even if it’s a couple of miles away. Stare at things, let your mind wander; talk to people, watch people. Fill your brain with ideas to let out onto paper, protect your craft, support your peers – and if Kevin Smith hasn’t said it enough, always the take goddamn shot.
Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?
Several places! I’m on Facebook, of course ( and my website is pretty simple to remember ( Make sure to also find me on Wattpad (, Twitter (@SamiAnneRT), and Instagram (@thatrtchik) – and always say hi! 🙂
Do you have an excerpt you’d like to share with us?
Check out the 1st Chapter of my first published romance novel, Kirby, at the following link: and be sure to leave a comment so I know you stopped by!

Thanks for the time Samantha! ~Tina


Saturday Excerpt – In a Dream by Ava Lynn Wood

In a Dream front (002).jpgI spun on my stool, staring Aiden right in the face. My heart did somersaults as everything else inside of me went into panic mode. After our meeting this afternoon, I thought I had mixed emotions about seeing him again, but there was no denying what I was feeling now. As he hovered over me, offering to pay for my drinks, I felt my body instinctively lean into him. “What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t feel like being alone tonight,” he answered, nodding at Jake as he slipped away with Aiden’s card.

With looks like Aiden’s, I couldn’t even fathom the amount of women he picked up in bars. “Looking for women to fill your dance card?” I asked, trying to hide the bitter jealousy I felt imagining him with other women.

“Just one,” he replied, searing his piercing blue eyes into my emerald ones.

My thighs rubbed together as Aiden moved in infinitesimally closer. Gulping down my nerves, I breathily replied, “Well, good luck finding her.” Turning to take a sip of my beer, I struggled to get my hormones in check. This guy was my client. My blood shouldn’t be humming in my veins just from his nearness. I should be putting distance between us.

Join me next week when author Karen Docter joins us. ~Tina


Author Spotlight-Caris Roane

The September $.99 Flame Series TourCaris Roane’s September $.99 Flame Series


The Flame Series, Books #1 and #2

Caris is giving away A Red Wire-Wrapped PNR Bracelet (International Winner Receives Gift Card) and A $25 Amazon Gift Card to randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here.


The “Wow” Prize:Wow giveaway image

Just leave a comment for a chance to win!

 Caris Roane here and I’m so glad you’re touring with me. As a bonus, I’m giving away a Reader Care Package to one lucky winner just for leaving a comment on any or all of the blogs on my tour. What’s in the Reader Care Package: Truffles, Ghiradelli Chocolate, print copy of GATES OF RAPTURE, scented lotion and soap, a journal and other goodies! Be sure to visit as many blogs on my tour as you can. The more blogs you comment on, the greater your chances of winning. The Reader Care Package is US only, but an international winner will receive a gift card. How I choose the winner: I will choose the winning blog then choose the winning comment sometime after midnight, October 5th, Arizona time. I will use Random dot org to make the selection. Good luck!


About the Books:

Bella Media Management

BLOOD FLAME, Book #1 of the Flame Series:

 Vampire Officer Connor of the Crescent Border Patrol tries to suppress his desire for the powerful witch, Iris Meldeere. Because the woman possesses the ability to kill him with the tips of her fingers, how can he possibly fall in love with her? When a double homicide throws them together, he soon finds his deepest fantasies fulfilled as Iris succumbs to his seductions. But as they battle together to stay alive, and love begins to consume them both, will the witch be able to forgive the dark secrets of his past …

Amazon US / iBooks //B&N / Kobo/ Google Play / Amazon CA / Amazon UK / Amazon AU


AMETHYST FLAME, Book #2 of the Flame SeriesBella Media Management

Hunky Nathan Vaughn, six-six, and one muscled vampire warrior, has had a lot of trouble in his life and needs a good woman to help even things out. Vaughn and Emma met once in the past, the night they rescued three teenage girls from a kidnapping ring. But a vampire and a witch can’t have a relationship in Five Bridges. So, they parted, determined never to see each other again. Emma was desolate, then the phone rang. Vaughn called and kept calling and she kept answering. But the rescue they shared turned out to piss off one very bad wizard who decided they both needed to die. Now they’re in it, fighting to stay alive and working oh-so-hard NOT to fall in love. Will they survive when so much is against them?

Amazon US / iBooks / B&N / Google Play / Kobo / Amazon CA / Amazon UK / Amazon AU


Books in the Flame Series:

 Book 1: Blood Flame

Book 2: Amethyst Flame

Book 3: Dark Flame

Book 4: Amber Flame

Book 5: A Touch of Flame

Holiday Novella: Christmas Flame


Excerpt from BLOOD FLAME:

From Chapter One: While spying obsessively on a witch named Iris, Border Patrol Officer Connor gets a call to track a drug runner…

An owl swooped down on Iris suddenly, then took up his usual perch in the huge tree at the back of her yard.

Her melodious voice hit the air once more. “Hello, Sebastien.” He could hear Iris laughing and talking with the owl, her pet, or muse or whatever it was witches used to conjure shit.

When his com buzzed for the second time, he swiftly rose another thirty feet in the air then pressed the button. “Connor.”

“Talking pretty quiet. You on a stake-out?”

He recognized Lily’s voice and some of the tension eased out of him. Lily worked dispatch, manning the phones and passing out assignments. “Trying not to attract notice.”

“So, who is she?”

The question startled him. He didn’t think anybody knew what he did between calls. Shit.

Then he realized Lily was fishing. “A beautiful Honda Scrambler, 1973.” Half true. He’d started to collect Café Racers, the older, the better.

He heard Lily snort. “You men and your machines. Okay, listen up. This comes from the chief. We’ve got a runner out at Amado Bridge and he wants you on it.”

Connor frowned. He didn’t usually work the dead-talker end of vampire territory. “Isn’t that Jason’s section?”

“Jason’s MIA, has been for two nights now, and the chief is about ready to explode.”

Unusual for Jason to be missing, but he was a Border Patrol officer and sometimes the men needed to go on a bender just to survive. “He’ll turn up, but his head won’t feel too good.”

Lily laughed. “I totally agree and to answer your next question, yes, Easton was adamant you take this call.”

No point arguing about any decision the chief made. “I’m on it.”

He took off, heading north in the direction of Crescent Territory, wondering what the hell he would find this time. He touched the hilt of his half-sword and thumbed the holster of his Glock. He wore black leather wrist guards lined with steel, a black tank, leathers, and heavy boots. He was ready.

Amado Bridge. He scowled. One of the worst terrains for a runner to attempt to take drugs into the human world.

His instincts lit up. Jason was missing, a runner was out at Amado and Easton wanted him on the assignment.

A sick feeling started crawling around his gut. This call already stunk and it was only midnight. Great…

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from BLOOD FLAME. Let the Flame Series become a new journey for you!

To Read More and for Buy Links…


Caris-Roane-AuthorAbout Caris:

 Caris Roane is the NY Times Bestselling author of Paranormal Romance. She began her career with Kensington Publishing and for eighteen years wrote Regency Romance as Valerie King. In 2005, Romantic Times Magazine honored her with a career achievement award for her Regency Romance work. To-date, she has published eighty-nine books. Thirty-nine of those are paranormal romances. Most of her paranormal stories are self-published while several in the early days were penned for St. Martin’s Press.

Though her stories conjure up hunky PNR warriors, like vampires and wolf-shifters, the romance is everything, including a satisfying Happily Ever After. Her hope is that the reader will come away engrossed in the lives of her tortured heroes and her worthy women as they wage war, as they make love, and as they face the tough issues of life and relationships!

Caris lives in the Phoenix area, in a growing town called Buckeye. When not writing, she’s a real homebody. She loves gardening, sewing, and cooking. She also enjoys creating jewelry and offers her handcrafted, PNR bracelet giveaways to her newsletter and blog subscribers. Her motto? Live the fang!

If you want to know more about Caris, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:


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Saturday Excerpt – A Lancaster Love by Mary Lingerfelt

A Lancaster Love cover compressed“This is an excerpt from A Lancaster Love, my Amish romance novel. This scene is between Flynn Munro, the heroine’s love interest, and his little daughter, Molly.” ~Mary Lingerfelt

“Now, Miss Molly, would you like to watch your Da make dinner?”

Molly dimpled and nodded, and stuck a finger into her mouth.

“This is a dish your mother used to make,” he told her gravely. “It was a favorite of hers, though not so much of mine. She used to make it when she was too tired to cook fancy, because it’s easy. It’s called Bubble and Squeak.”

Molly giggled, and Flynn tapped her nose. “Now―we go to the fridge, and see what we have on hand. There’s some corned beef hiding in the back of the milk. So we just chop that up with the potatoes and carrots and toss it in.

“And then we fry them up, like so.” He reached down to turn up the heat, and the pan soon began to make small bubbling sounds.

“Hear it?” Flynn smiled, and Molly nodded vigorously.

He took a wooden spoon, and rubbed it against the greased pan. Squeak, went the spoon, and Molly squealed with laughter.

“Now, Miss Molly―you sit on this stool, right here, and hold the spoon. I’ll let you stir, this time.”

He lifted Molly from the counter and set her on a stool, and she sat beside him and stirred the meat and potatoes, and made the spoon go squeak, squeak, squeak.

 “That’s right, my girl,” he told her softly. “Just like your mother used to do.”

Molly looked down into the pan, and her eyes went somber. She stood there in silence for a moment, and then blurted, out of nowhere:

“Da―why did Mommy die?”

Flynn sucked in air, as if he’d been punched. He stood in stunned silence, and cast about for an answer.

“Why―Molly―your mother was―”

He pulled a hand over his mouth and hesitated. Something inside told him that now was not the time for a merciful lie―that the truth was important, if he wanted to keep his daughter’s trust.

He lifted her up in his arms, and sat down in a chair. He looked down into her face soberly, tried to read her eyes, wondered if she was old enough for the truth.

“Molly, you remember what I told you about the fighting back home, don’t you?” he asked gently.

Molly nodded solemnly.

“It’s been going on for a long, long time, and it―it never really goes away. You understand that―that the fighting was why we left our home, and came to live here.”

Her big eyes held his.

He swallowed, and went on: “Chickadee, sometimes―sometimes when there’s fighting, innocent people get hurt.”

He closed his eyes, trying to hold it back, but the memory roared over him. Instantly, he was back there again, kneeling on the corner in front of the Whistle. He was holding Maggie in his arms as her blue eyes fixed themselves on a point just past his shoulder. The panic swept him again.

Maggie?―somebody call an ambulance!” he’d screamed. But the rugby players who’d come running out of the Whistle had only crouched down beside him in silence, and glanced at the broken glass and groceries scattered over the sidewalk.

One of them put a hand on his shoulder.

He’d launched himself out into the street, swinging for the nearest chin he could find and screaming at the top of his lungs.

Flynn closed his eyes and willed that day to fade back into the past. He slowly came to himself, looked down at their little daughter, and thanked God; because it was only the mercy of God that Molly hadn’t lost both her parents that day.


“Chickadee,” he whispered, “your mother died by accident. The police are our friends, they’re there to protect us, but sometimes…accidents happen. There were police standing on the sidewalk across from our house that day, and some bad men drove by in a car, and fired their guns at the police. The police fired their guns back. Your mother was hit…by accident, as she was walking home from the market.”

Molly looked up at him, with her round blue eyes, and to his helpless regret, his own sadness slowly spread across their innocent depths.

Then she lifted her arms, closed them around his neck, and buried her face in his shirt.