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Disaster at Roosevelt Ranch Blitz

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Contemporary Romance
Date Published: December 13, 2016
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I slept with the wrong twin.
And all I got for it in return was a broken heart.
Oh yeah, and a baby on the way—there’s that too.
But I’m determined to make it on my own. I don’t need a man, thank you very much. Not rich, charismatic, and decidedly flighty Rex Roosevelt, and especially not his twin brother, Justin.
No matter that the gorgeous former military doctor makes my heart beat a little faster . . . and all spots lower than that pay careful, careful attention.
None of that matters. The Roosevelt men are dangerous and I’m steering clear.
The trouble is, Justin refuses to leave me be.
And deep down, I don’t want to avoid him.
Deep down, I want to be even closer. 

About the Author

Aside from writing romance, Elise Faber’s passions are chocolate, Star Wars, and hockey (the order depending on the day and how well her team — the Sharks! — are playing). She and her husband also play as much hockey as they can squeeze into their schedules, so much so that their typical date night is spent on the ice. Elise is the mom to two exuberant boys and is thoroughly addicted to Dancing With the Stars. Connect with her on facebook (facebook.com/elisefaberauthor), twitter (@faberelise), instagram (@elisefaber) or www.elisefaber.com.
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Hard to Regret Blitz

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Sexy Contemporary Romance
Date Published: November 4, 2016

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Heiress Anna Wynn is hiding a secret – a secret that has blighted half her life and forced her to become an unfulfilled over-achiever. Even preparing for her wealthy family’s summer break in their idyllic New Zealand holiday house, Anna has to be all business and is strung tight as piano wire. Finding her bedroom appropriated by an over-muscled, overbearing, testosterone-soaked tower of annoyance is the final straw.
Dragged up under the callused thumb of his dirt-poor father, Jason Jones regrets his choice of security over his dream. His ambition to work as a freelance photographer has been ruthlessly suppressed in favor of setting up his own construction company. He has a pre-Christmas deadline looming on the current project, and the last thing he needs is constant surveillance by the owner’s sharp-tongued daughter – or the lure of her hot body and big blue eyes.
Forced to endure each other’s company in the small-town beach house, mutual frustration and undeniable chemistry pull Anna and Jason together for a few stolen days. Enemies become lovers – but how long before secrets are revealed that will change everything?
HARD TO REGRET is the first in Kris Pearson’s new Scarlet Bay series of sexy, funny and heart-warming romance novels and is intended for mature readers.
 Excerpt

 

CHAPTER 1 – SAUSAGE ON A FORK
“I’ll do it,” Annaliese Wynn said, heaving her travel bag from the back of the taxi to save the overweight driver waddling out. Finally she’d be swapping her stilettos for summer sandals and solitude, and hopefully winding down from the everlasting treadmill of her life.
As she listened to the waves crashing on the shore of Scarlet Bay, she drew a deep satisfied breath and discovered the delicious aroma of grilling meat wafting on the warm breeze. She glanced at her watch. Someone was barbecuing. At ten-fifteen? She inhaled again. Her tummy gave an unladylike gurgle. The barbecue smelled amazing after her hasty early breakfast of a fresh pear.
Sighing, Anna clicked the bag handle up into place and rolled the case over the cracked concrete path to the old shorefront cottage. This would be her last holiday here before it was demolished to make way for a new, much larger dwelling for her extended family to share. She unlocked the front door and stepped back into her childhood. Faded Indian cotton curtains, Great-aunt Emily’s fussy watercolours (also fading) and… the back door at the end of the hallway swinging wide open!
She stood stock-still, like a cat transfixed by a bird that had just landed unwisely close. Loud masculine laughter billowed in and echoed around the high-ceilinged space.
“Shit, no…” someone said.
“Totally crappy luck,” another man agreed.
“And probably a spoiled little bitch,” a deeper voice added.
Anna released her bag, set down her laptop, and crept the length of the old house on tiptoe, trying to stop her high heels from echoing on the varnished hardwood floor. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, bursting through the doorway.
Four pairs of eyes swivelled in her direction. Three men stuffed meat into their mouths and chewed.
“Ms Wynn?” the deeper voice asked. The attached male raised a can of cola and took a leisurely swig. Dark eyes locked with hers over the shining can, and she watched his tanned throat constrict as he swallowed. He lowered the drink and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth.
“Anna Wynn. Why are you all here?”
Plainly they were the crew from the almost finished house through the hedge. Why weren’t they there instead? And how had they opened the door?
Three sets of teeth continued to chomp. Three pairs of eyes shifted away. The other man set the cola can down with no haste, and stood.
Up and up.
Anna had to tilt her head back to keep eye contact.
He thrust out a large hand as though he expected her to shake it. “Jason Jones,” he said.
He blocked out the light, stole her breath, irritated her far beyond anything that was reasonable.
“We’re having breakfast,” he added in that gritty velvet voice that had queried her name with unmistakeable amusement.
She inspected his fingers for cleanliness before extending her own. His boots were caked with mud, his long, powerful legs were smeared with dust, his khaki shorts had the zipper at half-mast, and there was sawdust all over his garish orange visibility vest. She tried not to ogle his arms and shoulders.
“Breakfast?” She found her fingers enclosed in firm warmth and then held captive.
“Or brunch, if you want to be fancy.” A faint grin teased the corners of his mouth.
Suddenly Anna’s choice of high heels and tailored black silk crepe pants felt ridiculous. Why hadn’t she worn jeans?
She tried to retrieve her hand and he tightened his grip, allowing her no escape.
“We’re on the job by seven in weather like this, and we work hard. We’re ready for more than a sandwich by now. You want a sausage?” Without waiting for a reply he reached sideways with his other hand, speared one from the barbecue on a bent and tarnished fork, and passed it to her.
Of course she didn’t. Nothing was further from her mind. A sausage with a gang of rough builders who had no business intruding into the house? From this over-muscled, overbearing, testosterone-soaked tower of annoyance?
 Her traitorous stomach chose that moment to give another loud gurgle, and she gave in to the inevitable, trying to accept the fork without touching him any further. She took a cautious nibble and closed her eyes. She possibly moaned. God, it was good!
“Ketchup with that?” the velvet voice asked, stroking every one of Anna’s nerve endings exactly the wrong way.
Snorts of amusement exploded from the other men and he threw a sharp, “Shut it,” in their direction.
She opened her mouth wider and took a more ravenous bite.
“Go for it…” the youngest man encouraged.
“Shut it, Hoolie,” Jason Jones repeated.  He turned to Anna. “Doesn’t take much to amuse someone with no brain.”
Anna glared at them all. The youngest one grinned from ear to ear, the other two tried to stifle their laughter, and even Jason Jones had the faintest twitch at one end of his surprisingly gorgeous mouth. No prizes for guessing what they were imagining.
She managed to swallow the mouthful without choking, took a step backward in case it made him look less impressive, and pinned him with her best ‘you’re-an-insect-beneath-my-notice’ gaze. “And I’ll ask you again; what exactly are you doing here? This is my family’s home. I’m staying to do some work for a few days, and I’m not expecting, or wanting, company.”
Jason Jones folded his tall frame down onto a battered white plastic chair and glanced toward the open back porch of the old house. “I arranged with your uncle for us to use the… facilities… there.  But some big rocks slid down the hill and bashed the wall in a couple of days ago.”
“No more facilities,” young Hoolie explained helpfully. “No bog, broken basin, only half a shower.”
Anna flicked her gaze into the damaged porch, bared her teeth, and took another bite of sausage – a really savage one – while looking Hoolie in the eye. Her action had the intended effect, and she had the great satisfaction of seeing him flinch.
She tried to suppress a smirk as she chewed and swallowed. “You’ll have to get a Porta-loo then. I don’t want you in the house. How did you get the door open?”
A big hand rummaged in the pocket of the khaki shorts. Anna glimpsed lime green undies through the gaping fly. Lime green? Did the man have no class?
He pulled out a key on a twist of string. James’s key. The little white lighthouse on the end of the string was a souvenir she’d given him on a long-ago holiday.
He swung it to and fro. “Your uncle gave me this in case I wanted to stay over. There have been burglaries from the other house. Boxes of tiles, appliances – and I don’t need any here at mine.”
Why don’t they lock things up more securely?
“So you’re the foreman?”
“Project manager.”
This brought a ‘yeah, right’ from Hoolie, and a tightening of Jason Jones’ features. He glared at the offender and said, “Hoolie’s not worth meeting until he grows up a bit, but the rest of my men are.” He waved an arm in their direction, and the sun glinted on gilded skin and bulging muscle. “Brett Lambourne and Eric Hansen.”
“Pleased to meetcha,” the younger Brett said.
“Yeah, gidday,” balding Eric added, wiping his lips with a crumpled handkerchief and stuffing it back into the pocket of his shorts.
“But…” Anna said. This was absolutely not what she wanted. She shook her head. “I don’t want to share my bathroom with a crowd of men.”
Jason leaned back in the chair and drew a deep breath. Anna found it hard not to stare as his chest expanded, and saw from the set of his jaw that he was making quite an effort to stay polite.
“There are only four of us,” he said in a tone suitable for explaining quantum physics to young children. “And I’ve been telling them to take their boots off. But okay, I’ll order a Porta-loo. I can’t guarantee they’ll have it here before Monday though. Not with the big surf carnival over the weekend.”
“Every bog’ll be busy,” Hoolie contributed.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Annaliese snapped. She took the last bite of sausage and wondered what to do with the fork. A big hand on the end of a long arm closed around it and she let go in a hurry.
“Thank you,” she added, a few seconds too late, turning and flouncing back into the house.
“Yep – spoiled little bitch”, she heard Jason say just before the door swung closed. So it was her he’d been talking about as she arrived? He’d already known she’d be staying? She nearly whirled around and gave him another earful, but what would that achieve? It wouldn’t do to make an enemy of the builder. Keeping out of each other’s way would surely be the wisest course.
She inspected the bathroom as she returned down the hallway. Men! Four empty toilet roll inners sat along the windowsill… the tap wasn’t properly turned off… and very dirty handprints decorated the pale blue towel.
Oh well, at least they washed their hands to some degree, and from the lack of mud on the floor they were indeed kicking their filthy boots off before they came inside.
She tried to be pleased about that as she collected her bag and pulled it into the front bedroom – the one with the best and biggest bed.
Someone had been sleeping in it. The cover had been tossed back and the pillow held the unmistakable indentation of a head. A half empty water bottle and an electric shaver sat on the chest beside it.
Jason Jones’ firm, clean-shaven jaw came immediately to mind, and for some reason his gorgeous mouth, and she just knew it would be him. Turning on her heel she clattered back along the hallway and flung the door open again.
“Who’s been sleeping in my bed?” she demanded.
“Big bad bear?” Hoolie suggested.
Brett Lambourne grinned. “Don’t you know your fairy stories, boy? Big bad wolf.”
Eric Hansen threw back his head and managed a passable howl.
“Hell,” Jason muttered. “It was the longest bed.”
“Well, will you move please? It sounded like you knew the ‘spoiled little bitch’ was coming to stay.”
Jason drew another of those devastating, chest-expanding breaths. “Your hearing’s a bit too good, eh? Sorry about that.” He set his can of cola aside and stood. Anna was almost willing to believe he was blushing under his tan.
“Move your stuff out at the end of the day,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to stop you working.” This time she slammed the door behind her so she wouldn’t hear any more smart comments. 

About the Author
New Zealander Kris Pearson was born to write – at twelve she completed her autobiography – an easy subject which required no research. It filled a whole school exercise book!
Her first proper job was as a radio copywriter. After living in Italy and London she returned to the capital city of Wellington and worked in TV, radio again, several advertising agencies, and then spent many happy years as a retail ad manager. Totally hooked on fabrics, she followed this by going into business with her husband as a curtain installer. It was finally time to write fiction. In sixteen years she hasn’t fallen off her ladder once through drifting off into romantic dreams.
She writes sizzling contemporary romance, pure and simple. Well, maybe not that pure! They’re sexy stories about modern couples who fall in love and into bed along the way, just like real people do. She’s the author of fourteen novels, three of which were finalists in New Zealand’s Clendon Award. Four have been translated into Spanish.
The most widely distributed is ‘The Boat Builder’s Bed’. She gave away more than two million ebook copies of this to kick-start sales of all her others. Did it work? Beyond her wildest dreams. See them all on her website – http://www.krispearson.com
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Twitter: @Krispiewrites
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Giveaway
3 ebook copies of Hard to Regret
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Running on Empty Blitz

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Contemporary Romance
Date Published:  September 2016
Salt Box Trilogy, Book 3

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She’s running her heart out to stay in the same place.
Ronnie Ventura has every reason to distrust Fairstein Productions: she’s had run-ins with their shows before. But Fairstein’s newest reality show offers Ronnie a chance to redeem herself from looking like a blonde bimbo. All she has to do is win a modified triathlon. Simple, right? Except this is Fairstein, and nothing is ever simple with them.
Ronnie’s boss at the Blarney Stone bar and café, owner Ted Saltzman, is a lot less convinced that another Fairstein show is just what Ronnie needs, particularly when he’s head over heels about Ronnie himself. But she’s determined, and he’s a man in love.
Ted becomes her running coach, which fans their budding romance to a fever. But can Ronnie’s newfound confidence stand up to the usual Fairstein plots? And can Ted find a way to keep his true love in Salt Box if Hollywood tries to steal her away again? 

Other books in the Salt Box Trilogy:
Salt Box Trilogy, Book 1
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Published: June 2015
Reality can be hotter than fiction.
Monica McKellar, associate producer of Finding Mr. Right, is desperate. One of the show’s bachelors has bailed one week before shooting starts. She not only needs a replacement ASAP, he has to get the temperamental bachelorette’s stamp of approval.
Fortunately there’s a hot guy right under her nose who’s a perfect fit. Unfortunately, he pushes all her hot buttons. Until the show’s over, her hands—and every other part of her body—are tied.
When Paul Dewitt signed on to write for the reality show, “Bachelor #10” wasn’t supposed to be in his job description. He fully expects to be cut early on, which will free him to focus on the real object of his attraction. Monica.
Instead, he’s a finalist, and they’re all packed in an SUV climbing the Continental Divide, headed for Salt Box, Colorado. Where stampeding horses, vindictive tabloid editors, and one capricious bachelorette’s waffling over suitors may conspire to end Paul and Monica’s romance before it even starts.
Warning: Contains hot sex on the sly, cold nights, creaking wicker couches, and a gypsy wagon that gives a whole new appreciation for the pioneers.
Salt Box Trilogy, Book 2
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Published: January 2016
Breakfast with benefits…
The reality show Lovely Ladies of L.A. should have launched Lizzy Apodaca’s catering company into solvency. Instead, when her carefully prepared appetizers mysteriously gave the cast on-camera food poisoning, she lost everything.
To make matters worse, her car breaks down in Salt Box, Colorado, a town not much bigger than a salt shaker. But maybe her luck is changing—the handsome owner of Praeger House, the town’s premier hotel, needs a kitchen assistant.
Clark Denham realizes his diamond in the rough is a polished gem when Lizzy steps up to save the hotel’s breakfast buffet after his temperamental head chef quits. It isn’t long before she’s winning his heart as smoothly and efficiently as she runs his kitchen.
Their relationship goes from simmer to rolling boil with the speed of a short order cook. But when a bevy of not-so-lovely ladies shows up in Salt Box, Lizzy’s past disaster threatens to flatten her happily ever after faster than a falling soufflé.
Warning: Contains salty dialogue, several servings of high-carb cooking, and a big platter of screaming-hot bedroom delights.
About the Author
Meg Benjamin is an award-winning author of contemporary romance. Her Konigsburg series for Samhain Publishing is set in the Texas Hill Country and her Salt Box trilogy is set in her new home the Colorado Rockies. She also has the paranormal Ramos Family trilogy from Berkley InterMix. Meg’s books have won numerous awards, including an EPIC Award, a Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Holt Medallion from Virginia Romance Writers, the Beanpot Award from the New England Romance Writers, and the Award of Excellence from Colorado Romance Writers.
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Ms. Money Blitz

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Contemporary Fiction, Women’s Fiction
Date Published:  November 2016
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If you’re a serious investor, you’ve seen ‘Ms. Money’ on TV. She’s a regular on Smarter Than The Street, the financial markets broadcast whose Neilsen ratings are off the chart. When she’s not on camera, Margaret M Worth is Chief Investment Strategist for nationwide money manager Traub Securities. Learn how the woman who majored in Holy Orders and planned to work at a mission school in Guatemala became a Wall Street guru.
After making a fortune in merger and acquisitions, losing it on the dot.com blow-up and winning it back with decidedly insider information, she is ultimately victorious in the men-only survival-of-the-fittest world of Wall Street, owing to her mantra–“Sex is the ultimate medium of exchange!” But she becomes disillusioned with the Midas touch, and when a Presidential appointment sends her into the inner sanctum of the monetary blowup at the New York Federal Reserve on Maiden Lane, she gets in touch with the real Maggie, discovering genuine self-worth. Experiencing the Financial Crisis first-hand, she witnesses the titanic conflict between the Kings of the Street and the Feds who want to rule them. Will her new found self-reliance be rewarded? 

Excerpt

 

“Now you’ve seen how I became Ms. Money, a highly paid financial strategist and TV stock market commentator with a bank account to die for. I took off my clothes, so to speak, and bared it all. I have two children who are worth more to me than anything in the world. Even more important you now know that the hero of my story is a woman. She is neither slave girl, nor princess, as central casting would have it. She knows that women can be heroes not heroines. And she knows what she has to do to become one. What I am is a woman who understands the heroism of being a woman. I’m ready now for grueling arduous conflict. But please pay careful attention because my struggle is a woman’s. Fire-breathing dragons have been extinct for centuries.”  ― T.L. Ashton, Ms. Money
 
About the Author
TL Ashton wrote investment strategy at Prudential Securities, Salomon Brothers, U.S. Trust, TD Ameritrade, and other Wall Street firms before switching to fiction about what goes on in them when financial crisis strikes. The Madonna Model, by the same author will be published early next year.

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Amelia’s Hope Blitz

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Contemporary Romance/Women’s fiction
Date Published: 11/14/16
Publisher: Fifth Ink Publishing

 

“Even though I was decaying, Amelia was growing. It was like some beautiful symphony the way both things were happening at once.”
Sacrificing your life for your child is one of the greatest ways a mother can show her love.
For Cara Michaels, that sacrifice was made.
At ten weeks pregnant, Cara was diagnosed with a fast-acting cancer and was faced with the ultimate decision…
That decision, was to forgo life-saving treatment to ensure her child would come into this world unharmed.
Cara shares with us the last months of her life as she prepared to give birth to her child and for her husband, Joel, to parent without her.
But a husband can only handle so much before he breaks…
Grab your tissues because you’re in for heartbreak.
Growing up on an old dirt road in the middle of nowhere, as a child Candis used her love for books as a way to escape reality (and her brother constantly trying to kill her–literally). She blames her love of all things Horror on being born on Friday the 13th and will always find joy in scaring her friends.
You will find a little piece of her in every book she writes. She loves a good happy ending but isn’t afraid to keep her stories real, even if that means telling the side of a story most people are afraid to tell.
Never caring for the norms or boundaries, Candis has written several genres from Horror to Erotica.
When she’s not writing or reading, she can usually be found chasing her children around or binge watching Netflix. She currently lives in Rome, Pennsylvania with her husband and three children.
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