Showing posts with label Excerpt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Excerpt. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 22, 2020

BLOG TOUR EXCERPT and GIVEAWAY Almost Just Friends by Jill Shavis




ABOUT ALMOST JUST FRIENDS (a standalone Wildstone novel)

Piper Manning’s about as tough as they come, she’s had to be. She raised her siblings and they’ve thankfully flown the coop. All she has to do is finish fixing up the lake house her grandparents left her, sell it, and then she’s free.

When a massive storm hits, she runs into a tall, dark and brooding stranger, Camden Reid. There’s a spark there, one that shocks her. Surprising her further, her sister and brother return, each of them holding their own secrets. The smart move would be for Piper to ignore them all but Cam unleashes emotions deep inside of her that she can’t deny, making her yearn for something she doesn’t understand. And her siblings…well, they need each other.

Only when the secrets come out, it changes everything Piper thinks she knows about her family, herself…and Cam. Can she find a way to outrun the demons? The answer is closer than she thinks—just as the new life she craves may have already begun.


BUY LINKS for ALMOST JUST FRIENDS:
Book four of the series but is completely a standalone. Piper has spend part of her childhood and young adult life raising her two siblings. Now that they are out of the house and living their own life she wants to fix up the house sell it and continue on with her education to become a Physician's Assistant. But on her birthday her sister comes home unexpectedly and her brother soon after and both say are home for good for reasons they won't explain. Piper can feel herself slipping back into her old role but with the help of her new neighbor, Cam, she just might be able keep from becoming a mother hen again and become their sister and friend. But it's easier said than done especially when her siblings are hiding something from her. That's only part of the problem, Cam has waken a desire in her she has never felt before and knowing he plans to leave soon she tries to keep her heart out of the equation. Cam is trying to build a relationship with his father after the death of his brother and Piper is a good distraction. He knows as soon as he meets her that she is something special and the more he knows the more he wants her in his life.
Overall, it was a good read Cam was sweet and together things got pretty steamy. The story is emotional and funny at times. The two siblings are a hoot along with Cam's Dad. It's a heartwarming story of three siblings trying to find their path in life and learning it doesn't always go as planned even though you wrote it in your bullet journal. 

   

The last time a woman had ordered Cam to strip had been a very different scene altogether, and it’d been a while. Generally speaking, he liked to be behind the wheel in most situations, but he’d never had any complaints about a woman driving in his bed. “Interesting bedside manner.”
“Okay,” she said. “How about strip, please.”
He laughed, and he realized that until tonight, it’d been a damn long time for that too. “Well, since you asked so nicely . . .” But still he hesitated.
“Trust me, I’ve seen it all before.”
He pulled off his shirt, wincing when the cotton stuck to the deepest slice across his chest.
Piper blinked, and for the first time all night, appeared short of words.
It was pretty damn cute, especially with the mud on her nose. “Thought you’ve seen it all before.” She bit her lower lip, eyes suddenly hooded, and he couldn’t resist teasing her. “So, how do I stack up?”
That got her, and she rolled her eyes. “Like you don’t know. Sit.”
The couch seemed too . . . personal, so he sat on her coffee table. She dropped to her knees at his side and doctored up first the cut on his left palm from where he’d nicked himself in his dad’s kitchen, and then the two slices on his left biceps, and then the biggest one across his chest, during which time he did his best to ignore the feel of her soft breath on his skin and failed.
When she’d finished, she looked down at his cargoes and saw the blood seeping through from his thigh. Rising to her feet, she stepped back, gesturing for him to lose the pants too.
“Seriously,” he said. “Doesn’t even have to be dinner. An appetizer would work.”
“If you’re real good, I’ll give you a sticker.”
“How about letting me look at your secret secret bucket list instead?”
Her eyes narrowed. “How about we stop talking now?”
“Wait.” He cocked his head. “Does this mean you also have a secret bucket list? And possibly a not-so- secret bucket list?” 
She had hands on hips; a fresh, clean gauze in one hand, antibiotic ointment in the other, her expression dialed to Not Feeling Playful.
With a rough laugh, he stood and took the gauze and ointment from her. “I got this one, Doc.” And then he gestured for her to turn around.
She did with a smirk, and then spoke over her shoulder. “Didn’t peg you for the shy type.”
“Oh, I’m not shy.” He shoved his icy, muddy, wet cargoes to his thighs, and yeah, the cat had come within two inches of de-manning him. “Just didn’t want to have to fight you off.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I always get verbal consent first. And I bet you didn’t want me to see your tighty-whities.”
He gritted his teeth as he cleaned out the cut. Son of a bitch, that cat had gone deep. “They’re not tight and they’re not white.”
“Batman undies?”
“Commando,” he said, and that shut her up. When he’d finished and pulled his pants back up, he lifted his head and found her facing him. His brows went up. “See anything you like?”
Instead of answering, she blushed. And he grinned because, yeah. She’d definitely seen something she liked.

From Almost Just Friends by Jill Shalvis, published by William Morrow. Copyright © 2020 by Jill Shalvis. Reprinted courtesy of HarperCollinsPublishers https://www.harpercollins.com/9780062897800/almost-just-friends/

William Morrow are GIVING AWAY a copy of this book to enter it's easy just comment on my blog here or my Book likes page, my Facebook page, or my Instagram and on Jan 31st I'll pick a winner. Comments in each places will count as individual entries.

(fine print: I am only responsible for picking the winner WM is fulfilling the prize, the winner must supply snail mail address to me and I share it with no one except the person at WM who will mail it UPS. Open to US and Canada)



ABOUT JILL SHALVIS
New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis lives in a small town in the Sierras full of quirky characters. Any resemblance to the quirky characters in her books is, um, mostly coincidental. Look for Jill’s bestselling, award-winning books wherever romances are sold and visit her website, www.jillshalvis.com, for a complete book list and daily blog detailing her city-girl-living-in-the-mountains adventures.





Connect with Jill
Facebook: @JillShalvis
Twitter: @JillShalvis


Monday, July 15, 2019

COVER REVEAL Between Me & You by Kimberly Kincaid






Buy Links:

🚑 Amazon https://amzn.to/2li1IkL
🚑 Barnes and Noble http://bit.ly/BetweenMeYouBN
🚑 Goodreads http://bit.ly/betweenmeyouGR




Blurb:

He hates the corporate world.
She's all business.
Now they have to work together
on the one job that could
make or break them both...

Connor became a flight medic
for one reason, and
one reason only.
To help people.
If he can keep his head down
and his past in the past while he's at it?
Even better.

Until Harlow appears to upend his world
with an offer he can't refuse.

She's calculating. Composed.
Scalpel-sharp.
And she'll stop at nothing to make
her father's business successful.

Even if that means teaming up with Connor
to turn around a failing clinic.

He shouldn't like her.
He definitely shouldn't want her.
But the more they work together
the less he's able to resist.

But Connor's secrets run deep.
Will Harlow's ambition ruin him,
or will she be his salvation?


From USA Today best-seller Kimberly Kincaid comes an enemies-to-lovers story full of emotion and heat. This full-length romance features a muscle-bound veteran flight medic and a smart, tart female CEO finding happily ever after...the hard way.



⭐️⭐️ PREORDER BONUS CONTENT SPECIAL ⭐️⭐️

Because this was so popular with the last book, I'm going to do it again! Everyone who preorders BETWEEN ME & YOU and signs up with this form will get a bonus scene via email!

✅ Use this form to sign up. http://bit.ly/BetweenPreorderDeal If you don't fill this out, you won't get the scene! So make sure you do.

✅ Please note: I can't double check this for you later, to see if you signed up or to make sure you typed your email address in properly, so please make sure you keep track of that and double check your sign-ups before clicking submit!

✅ Bonus material will NOT be available to anyone else--ONLY preorder people--and it won’t be released at any time in 2019, or possibly beyond. I try really hard to keep exclusive stuff, well...exclusive. So, if you want it? Sign up now! You may not get another chance to get this scene (DIFFERENT than the last bonus scene!)

Who's ready for Connor and Harlow?!



Previous books in the series (books one and two stand alone, but book 3 contains some series spoilers, so all are best read in order!)

BACK TO YOU (start here!) https://kimberlykincaid.com/back-to-you/

BETTER THAN ME (then here!) https://kimberlykincaid.com/better-than-me/


Excerpt (not PG-13):
 Connor hadn’t even made it more than a few steps over the threshold of the clinic before he’d run into a crush of people in various states of injury or illness. Most of the waiting room chairs were occupied, and after getting one woman an ice pack she should’ve received when she’d been triaged and sending a badly bleeding teenager directly to the ED to get the gash in his arm tended to by a surgeon, Connor finally moved past the intake desk and headed to the office in the back of the building.
  
The door was shut, but the blinds on the window beside it weren’t, allowing him to see inside. Harlow sat primly behind the sleek, walnut desk, a pair of red-framed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose as she pored over something on the laptop screen in front of her.
  
Her chin was tilted slightly downward, her gaze focused and serious, and for one bright, impulsive instant, Connor wondered what she looked like when she laughed. With her hair all mussed from sleep. When she was caught up in a moment of pure, hot pleasure, and Jesus H. Christ on a Pop-Tart, was he insane? Of all the times to think with his dick, now was probably the most inopportune. He needed to be completely on guard around this woman, not get all gee-I-wonder about what she looked like halfway to orgasm.
  
Damn, he’d bet she was really fucking pretty when she laughed, though.
  
Clearing his throat, Connor forced his spine to full attention and his cock to stand down, then placed a sharp trio of knocks on the door in front of him. Harlow’s ice-blue eyes widened as she looked up from her desk, but only by a fraction, and by the time she’d waved him over the threshold, any traces of surprise had disappeared as if they’d never existed.
  
“Mr. Bradshaw,” she said, and oh yeah, no. They had to nip that in the bud right freaking now.
  
“No mister,” he corrected. Guard up. “It’s not really my thing.”
  
Harlow nodded. “Lieutenant, then.”
  
Oh, the shit Declan and the rest of the guys in his unit would give him for that would last days on end. “No lieutenant, either.” Connor shook his head. “Retired military personnel don’t usually go by their rank. It’s kind of considered bad form.”
  
“I apologize.” Her voice softened by the smallest degree. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.” 
“None taken. Connor is fine.”
  
Just like that, Harlow’s all-business demeanor settled right back into place. “But what will you have the staff call you, then?”
  
Connor blinked. “Well, my first name has worked up ’til now with everyone in the ICU and ED. I don’t really see a reason to change that,” he said. In fact, he hadn’t even given it a thought.
  
“You want everyone to call you by your first name,” Harlow said slowly, as if he’d just suggested the earth was flat and they should all go cannonballing over the edge. “The medical staff, the patients. The members of the board?”
  
He bit back the temptation to tell her he didn’t want to be anything-Bradshaw, especially with the members of the board. He wasn’t some uptight VP who needed to lord his power over other people. “Sure. Why not?”
  
If the look on Harlow’s face was anything to go by, the answer to Connor’s question was about to arrive adamantly and in list form. “Well, for one, you’re a director now.”

“It’s just a title, like mister or lieutenant,” Connor argued. He knew he should at least try to keep the heat in his veins away from his voice—if he made a big deal about his name, her radar would surely start to ping, full-bore. But come on. Was she seriously trying to tell him how to have his own staff address him? “What people call me isn’t going to affect how I do the job.”
  
“The title still matters,” she replied. That she’d controlled her words with near-surgical precision didn’t make them any less of an argument. She gestured to the hallway over his shoulder, leading out to the clinic beyond. “All those physician’s assistants and nurses and staff members out there? You’re their boss now.”
  
Oh, here we fucking go. “So? That doesn’t make me better than they are.”
  
Harlow surprised him by conceding. Sort of. “No, it doesn’t. But you’re still in a position of power. Business hierarchies exist for a reason, and titles are part of that. How your staff perceives you is going to have a direct impact on your ability to manage them.”
   
Finally, one (and only one) thing on which they could agree. “I know I’m kind of new to this side of things, but I promise, my ability to manage the staff will be just fine. And since they are mine to manage as the director of ops”—he made sure his tone turned it into enough of a riiiiight? to make it a point and not flat-out provocation before adding—“Connor it is." 
 He gestured to the center of the scrubs he purposely hadn’t changed out of, and after a beat, Harlow sat back against her office chair 
“Suit yourself, I suppose. At any rate, I didn’t expect to see you down here so soon.” 
“What can I say?” Connor shrugged amiably. “I’m full of surprises.” 
“That is an understatement.”


About Kimberly:

Kimberly Kincaid writes contemporary romance that splits the difference between sexy and sweet and hot and edgy romantic suspense. When she’s not sitting cross-legged in an ancient desk chair known as “The Pleather Bomber”, she can be found practicing obscene amounts of yoga, whipping up anything from enchiladas to éclairs in her kitchen, or curled up with her nose in a book. Kimberly is a USA Today best-selling author and a 2016 and 2015 RWA RITA® finalist and 2014 Bookseller’s Best nominee who lives (and writes!) by the mantra that food is love. Kimberly resides in Virginia with her wildly patient husband and their three daughters.



Connect with Kimberly:

Stay up to date with Kimberly by joining her mailing list: http://bit.ly/2WwXAKW


Wednesday, February 27, 2019

BLOG TOUR It's Getting Scot in Here by Suzanne Enoch

IT’S GETTING SCOT IN HERE
The Wild Wicked Highlanders Series
Suzanne Enoch
The first in a wickedly seductive new Scottish historical romance series from New York Times bestselling author Suzanne Enoch, IT’S GETTING SCOT IN HERE (St. Martin’s Paperbacks, February 26, 2019, $7.99) crosses two sweethearts from separate worlds. Readers find out what happens when a headstrong leading lady, who refuses to marry someone she doesn’t love, meets an off-limits ruffian from the barbaric Highlands. London socialite Amelia-Rose Baxter is nobody’s fool. Her parents may want her to catch a title, but she will never change who she is for the promise of marriage. Her husband will be a man who can appreciate her sharp mind as well as her body. A sophisticated man who loves life in London. A man who considers her his equal—and won’t try to tame her wild heart...
Rough, rugged Highlander Niall MacTaggert and his brothers know the rules: the eldest must marry or lose the ancestral estate, period. But Niall’s eldest brother just isn’t interested in the lady his mother selected. Is it because Amelia-Rose is just too. . . Free-spirited? Yes. Brazen? Aye. Surely Niall can find a way to soften up the whip-smart lass and make her the perfect match for his brother for the sake of the family. Instead it’s Niall who tempts Amelia-Rose, despite her reservations about barbarian Highlanders. Niall finds the lass nigh irresistible as well, but he won’t make the mistake his father did in marrying an Englishwoman who doesn’t like the Highlands. Does he have what it takes to win her heart? There is only one way to find out...

 I loved this book! The MacTaggerts are a wild bunch let loose in London against their will with a sister they never got to watch grow up and a mother who abandoned them, at least in their opinion she abandoned them. It is deemed that Coll will marry the woman of their mother's choosing and Aden and Niall can find wives on their own, as long as the are British. Only Coll, who is so angry with his mother for forcing this issue, isn't going to fall in line and takes his anger out on the easiest target the young lady his mother picked for him, Amelia-Rose Baxter. Amelia-Rose isn't as sweet, weak-willed, and clingy as Coll anticipated and she promptly snaps back. Niall falls head over heels for Amelia using his brother's contempt to his advantage and spends as much time with Amelia-Rose as possible and it isn't long before Amelia-Rose falls for Niall in return. With Niall she can be herself a smart headstrong woman who is only trying to please her parents. But Amelia-Rose and Niall have a hard road ahead of them since her mother is dead set on her marrying a man who can give her a title.

Overall, this book was such a fun read. Niall is romantic and sincere and willing to beat up his brother in defence of the woman he loves when he's usually the one breaking up fights and solving arguments. Amelia-Rose (Amy) I loved; she tries so hard to be the dutiful daughter and the pressure of marrying but sometimes she just can't curb her wit and scathing remarks for idiots. I love the MacTaggert family. Coll as surly as he is redeems himself, Aden we didn't really get to know that well which makes me think maybe his book is next. Francesca, their mother, is a powerhouse she manipulated the brothers into this situation but her heart was in the right place. The baby sister, Eloise, she's adorable she's like one of those people who is always so cheery and you may want to hate them for it but you can't help but like them. 





Prologue 

Once upon a time—in May 1785, to be exact—Angus MacTaggert, Earl Aldriss, traveled from the middle of the Scottish Highlands to London in search of a wealthy bride to save his well-loved but crumbling estate. Aldriss Park had been in the MacTaggert family since the time of Henry VIII, when Domhnall MacTaggert, despite being Catholic and married, declared publicly that Henry should be able to wed as many lasses as he wanted until one of them got him a son. Aldriss Park was the newly minted earl’s reward for his support and understanding. 
For the next two hundred years Aldriss thrived, until the weight of poor harvests, the ever-intruding, rulemaking Sassenach, and the MacTaggerts’ own fondness for drinking, gambling, and wild investments (including an early bicycle design wherein the driver sat between two wheels; sadly, it had no braking mechanism and after a series of accidents nearly began a war within the MacTaggerts’ clan Ross) began to sink it into disrepair. 
When Angus inherited the title in 1783, he realized the old castle needed far more than a fresh coat of paint to keep it from both physical collapse and bankruptcy. And so he determined to go down among the enemy Sassenach and win himself a wealthy bride. The English had made enough trouble for him and his over the centuries, so they could bloody well help him set things right.
On his second day in London, he met the stunning Francesca Oswell, the only offspring of James and Mary Oswell, Viscount and Viscountess of Hornford—who had more money than Midas and a bevy of very fine solicitors—at a masked ball where he dressed as a bull, and she as a swan. Despite the misgivings of nearly everyone in Mayfair, Angus and Francesca immediately fell madly in love, and married with a special license ten days
later. 
A week after that, Angus took Francesca back to Aldriss Park and the Highlands, where she found very little civilization, a great many sheep, and a husband who preferred brawling to dancing, and he discovered that her father’s solicitors had arranged to keep the Oswell family money in Francesca’s hands. This made for some very spectacular arguments, because there is nothing more combustible in the world than an impoverished Highlands laird in disagreement with an independently wealthy English lady about his own ancestral lands. 
Over the next thirteen turbulent years the estate prospered, and Francesca gave Angus three sons—Coll, Aden, and Niall—and with each one became more concerned that this was not a life for any civilized person. She wanted to bring the boys back to London for proper educations and to live proper lives, but Angus refused, stating that what had been good enough for him would be good enough for his lads. 
When a fourth child, a daughter, arrived in 1798, Francesca reached her breaking point. No daughter of hers was going to be raised with an uncivilized accent in a rough country where she would be ridiculed by proper Society and unfit to marry anyone but a shepherd or a peat cutter. Angus refused to let his lads go, but he allowed Francesca to take young Eloise and return to London—on the condition that she continue providing for the maintenance of the estate. 
Francesca reluctantly agreed, but given that she controlled the purse strings, she had her own conditions to try to keep some influence with her wild sons: All three boys must marry before their sister, they must wed proper English women, and at least one of them must marry someone of her choosing. She knew Angus would raise them as he pleased, but they were her children, too, by God, and she meant to see to it that they had some semblance of propriety in their lives—she was a viscount’s daughter, after all, and certain things would be expected of her offspring. She refused to allow them to be viewed as unsophisticated wild men by her London neighbors, and she remained determined to have a presence in their lives. 
To enforce her will, she convinced (or rather, coerced) Angus to put his signature to the agreement, which contained this provision: If young Eloise MacTaggert did marry before any of the boys, Francesca would cut off all funds to the estate. If they were to insist on defiance, they would have a heavy price to pay for it—one they and their tenants could not afford.  
Angus had no choice but to agree, and considering that Coll, the oldest, was only twelve at the time of Francesca’s departure and Eloise was but a wee bairn, he was willing to wager that he would have time to renegotiate. Angus and Francesca remained married, but neither would bend enough to visit the other ever again. As far as the lads were concerned, their mother had abandoned them. 
In the spring of 1816 Angus received a letter from Francesca announcing their daughter’s engagement, and he promptly collapsed. He’d hoped his sons would have found themselves Scottish lasses by now and shown their mother she couldn’t control their lives after all, but the lads were defiant and wouldn’t be rushed. Now it appeared to be too late. 
He summoned his sons to his apparent deathbed an confessed all—Francesca funding the estate, the pernicious agreement, and their mother’s grasping claws, which he explained was a symptom of all Englishwomen and their weak, clinging, cloying ways. For the sake of the property and their tenants the young men must go to London. At once. No sense even taking time to put him in the ground, much less mourn him, because Francesca wouldn’t excuse the loss of time, and they needed to marry before their sister. 
The lads—grown men, now—were not at all happy suddenly to learn about the responsibilities and rules foisted upon them by a woman they barely remembered. Being wily, freehearted, and exceptionally handsome men accustomed to doing things their way and certainly not bowing to the demands of a demented Englishwoman, they determined to go down to London not to comply, but to outwit their mother and upend any plans she had for them. And thus, dear reader, begins our story.


One lucky Winner will win a Paperback copy (US only please) of this delightful book. Comment here or on my Instagram post for your chance to win!


SUZANNE ENOCH grew up in Southern California, where she still balances her love for the Regency romances of Georgette Heyer and classic romantic comedies with her obsession for anything Star Wars. Given her love of food and comfy chairs, she may in fact be a Hobbit. She has written more than 35 romance novels, including traditional Regencies, Historical Romance, and contemporary Romantic Suspense. When she isn’t working on her next book she is trying to learn to cook, and wishes she had an English accent. She is the bestselling author of Scandalous Brides series, The Scandalous Highlanders series, and One Hot Scot.

Wednesday, February 13, 2019

ARC REVIEW Back to You by Kimberly Kincaid




His second chance is his only chance

Parker Drake wants exactly one thing—to fulfill his dream of becoming a doctor. Between his reputation as a rule-breaker and the six years that have passed since his first internship ended in disaster, he knows he’s only getting one shot at a second chance. He’ll do anything to put the past behind him and reach his goal…including work with the gorgeous ex-wife he’s never gotten over losing.

All work and no play make surgeon Charleston Becker a very happy woman. But when she’s tasked with mentoring her ex-husband through his second chance as an intern, her signature calm is put to the test. She’s not interested in re-hashing the heartbreaking circumstances that ended their marriage, and the six years that have passed haven’t made Parker less reckless. The last thing she’s willing to do is trust him—even if she does find him sexier than ever.

But familiarity breeds forgiveness, which then becomes a passion that threatens the careers Parker and Charlie have worked for. Can they turn their second chance into a happy ending? Or is history bound to repeat itself?

This steamy contemporary medical romance can be read as a standalone.



This is the first book for Kimberly Kincaid's newest series in the same world as her previous Station Seventeen series. I love it when author do that, instead of one giant series a whole bunch all independent of each other but still interconnected. I love second chance romance stories and Parker and Charlie have a doozy of a history. 
This is an emotional story about forgiveness, second chances, and taking a chance when you know it's worth the risk. I loved Parker and Charlie they balanced each other out well, Parker is a risk taker and a rule breaker while Charlie is straightlaced and by the book. This was a great introduction to the series and the other characters and I can't wait for Jonah's book.
Overall, it was a quick and easy read, very emotional. It was well paced and steamy hot in all the right places. If you haven't picked up Kimberly Kincaid before this is a great book to start at.   




Of all the ways Parker Drake had envisioned his first day as an intern, witnessing a sedan-versus-bike messenger that resulted in an open tib-fib before he’d even walked through the hospital doors hadn’t been in the top one thousand.

Being face to drop-jawed stare with the one woman he’d been certain he’d never lay eyes on again, and who probably hated him as passionately as he’d once loved her?

Had to be a one in a million.

The man in his arms groaned in pain, snapping time back into motion and Parker back to reality in less than a heartbeat.

“I need a little help over here,” Parker called out, and fucking great, Tess was here, too?

“What happened?” Charlie asked as Tess hollered for a gurney and a C-collar, both of which arrived astonishingly fast.

Parker blinked, his brain momentarily too swamped with adrenaline to form a reply. Focus. On something other than how the hell Charlie is here in front of you instead of far, far away in Nashville. Now would be good, since you’re holding a guy whose tibia is sticking out of his skin.

Well, that did the trick to redirect his thoughts from her, at least temporarily. Then again, work always did. “Mike Yoshida, got clipped by a Camry while riding his bike,” Parker said, placing the man on the gurney and diving right in to the bullet. “Obvious right lower leg deformity, GCS 12. No apparent head or neck trauma, no LOC.” The guy’s helmet was still firmly in place. Not that it had done his leg a lick of good, but at least that would be a hell of a lot easier to repair.

“Hi, Mr. Yoshida, I’m Dr. Michaelson, and this is Dr. Becker,” Tess said, but only after she’d shot a micro-frown in Parker’s direction that promised nothing good once their patient was stable. “We’re going to take care of you, okay?”
“O-okay.” He tried to nod, but Tess placed her hands firmly over the sides of his helmet to keep him still as Charlie grabbed the C-collar.

“Dr. Becker and I are going to put this around your neck. I know it’s not super comfortable, but we have to err on the side of caution until we can get a closer look at your spine.”

Charlie, who was in street clothes, and Tess, who wasn’t, had both gloved up to examine the man while a nurse guided the gurney past the automatic doors and into a curtain area.

“You didn’t think to call a paramedic instead of dragging him in here on your own?” Charlie asked, her red-gold brows pulled low in disapproval, as Tess continued her rapid trauma assessment on the patient.

Parker took a deep breath and reminded himself that he deserved every degree of chilliness Charlie wanted to offer. “I am a paramedic. Or I was for five years. Anyway”—he grabbed a pair of nitrile gloves from the dispenser box on the wall and slid them into place—“the accident happened less than a block away. Calling an ambo would’ve been stupid.”

Dropping her voice enough to keep it from the patient while Tess asked him a few more questions and examined his leg, Charlie said, “He was in an MVA, and you moved him without a C-collar. That is stupid.”

Shock popped Parker right in the solar plexus. “Seeing as how we were in the middle of a busy city street and the guy had already been hit by a car once, I thought getting him out of traffic might be prudent.”

“Parker—” she started, but he shook his head. As much as he wanted to, arguing with her was a bad idea for several reasons, none of them small. Anyway, he couldn’t change what he’d already done.

“Yes, I moved him,” Parker said quietly. “But I did an RTA in the field. He was alert and reactive, with no signs of a head or neck injury. He was in a lot of pain and had an open fracture, and I wanted to get him treated as fast as possible. So, I made a judgment call.”

If her expression was anything to go by, Charlie remained highly unimpressed. “So he didn’t present with any outward signs of a spinal injury,” she argued. “That doesn’t mean he’s fine. There could be any number of things going on that you can’t see.”

“I know that.” Parker had completed four years of medical school, nearly seven months of his first internship, and three of his five years at Station Seventeen as a lead paramedic. He was hardly a dumbass.

“This tib-fib is pretty straightforward,” Tess said loudly enough to grab both of their attention. She’d—damn—already cut away the patient’s jeans to reveal a nasty break, and splinted the injured leg to keep it stable. “Let’s get head and neck films to see what we’re dealing with otherwise.” She swung her stare to the dark-haired nurse who had appeared with the gurney and stuck around for the ride. “And page Dr. Sheridan, along with whoever’s on call for ortho, stat, please.”

“I’ve got the films, Dr. Michaelson,” Charlie said, her eyes on Tess’s very pregnant belly, and Parker’s throat went tight. But then Tess had stepped out of the curtain area and the nurse had produced two protective aprons, and Charlie was shooting the X-rays as easily as she’d order a fucking latte.

“Head and neck are clear,” she called to Tess a few seconds later, who returned to the curtain area and looked at the images on the portable monitor, nodding her agreement.

“It’s just my…leg that hurts.” The man’s labored grunt punctuated the claim, and Charlie—Christ, how was it possible that she’d gotten even prettier over the last six years—softened her gaze, leaning in toward him.

“Do you have any drug allergies, Mr. Yoshida?”

Another groan. “No.”

Charlie looked at the nurse. “Start an IV so we can get some pain meds on board while we wait for those consults. We’re also going to need to do a full set of films on that leg for ortho.”

“I can start the IV,” Parker offered, taking a step toward the supply cart beside the gurney. Anything would be better than just standing here, useless.

Charlie’s arm shot out, and even through his shirt and hers, the contact sizzled through him as if they’d touched intimately, skin on skin. “No. You absolutely cannot.”

“I’m qualified to do it,” he said. He’d started hundreds of lines. Maybe even thousands. For God’s sake, Charlie had been there when he’d learned how.

“You’re a paramedic,” Tess said, clearly on Team Charlie, and also clearly unaware that he’d tendered his resignation at Station Seventeen to return to medical school and had been placed here at Remington Mem for his internship, take two. “We have very capable nurses. You brought Mr. Yoshida in, but we’ve got it from here, Parker. You can go.”

His pulse slapped faster. “Actually, I—”

The curtain moved, the metal loops shushing along the track built in to the ceiling and stopping the rest of Parker’s words in his windpipe.

“Someone called for a—whoa, yeah. Surgical consult,” said Jonah Sheridan, who had appeared behind Tess. Parker recognized him, both from running patients in to the emergency department for the last five years and the semi-rare occasion that the staff at Remington Mem came to hang out at The Crooked Angel, where the first responders from Station Seventeen and the cops from the Thirty-Third precinct tended to gather.

Sheridan completed a quick but thorough perusal of the patient’s injury. Parker listened carefully as Tess gave the guy a brief rundown and the nurse started the IV, then again as Sheridan looked at the patient.

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Mike,” the guy groaned, leaning back against the gurney. “Mike Yoshida.”

“Well, Mr. Yoshida, I hope you like Jell-O, because you’re going to be here for a day or two. You definitely need surgery to repair that injury to your leg.” He turned toward the dark-haired nurse, who Parker belatedly recognized from his first internship six years ago, and damn. How could he have changed so much while this place had stood stock-still?

“Kelly, let’s get some antibiotics in that IV along with the pain meds Dr. Becker ordered, and call surgery to book an OR.” Dr. Sheridan rattled off a few more directives—specific medications and dosages, plus a rush on the X-rays Charlie had already ordered—then shifted to look at Parker, blond brows lifted in question.

“You’re the paramedic, right?”

Shit. “Intern. Parker Drake.” Tugging off his still-spotless gloves, he extended his hand, trying as hard as he possibly could to un-hear the twin gasps of shock from Tess and Charlie.

“Huh,” Jonah said. “A new attending and a paramedic intern. The hits just keep on comin’. Okay, Mr. Yoshida.” He turned back toward the patient while Parker battled some shock of his own. Charlie was working here now? As an attending? Surely, he’d misunderstood. “Let’s get you ready for surgery, shall we?”

“OR three is open, Dr. Sheridan,” Kelly said, hanging up the wall-mounted phone. “They’re expecting you.”

“Perfect. We can do the films upstairs while I scrub in and get Dr. Mallory up to speed. Let’s go.”

Sheridan and Kelly wheeled the gurney from the curtain area. Now would normally be the time for everyone to scatter, with the patient stable and the handoff to a surgeon made. But since everything about the current situation was far from normal, Tess killed the four hundred-pound silence with a long, low exhale.

“I’m sorry. Did you just say you’re…”

“An intern. Starting today.” He looked at Charlie, whose expression was impossible to decipher. “Did Dr. Sheridan say you’re…”

“An attending. Temporarily, at least. I’m covering Tess’s maternity leave for ten weeks.”




Tuesday, November 21, 2017

RELEASE DAY BLITZ The Duke Who Came to Town by Sophie Barnes




Links






Synopsis
She doesn’t want to be a kept woman…


Josephine Potter knows she must retain her employment to provide for her younger sisters and to maintain the house. While a young woman working as an accountant – at a hotel no less – could be frowned upon by some, it’s still a respectable way to earn a living. No matter what a certain duke might think. Besides, Josephine has a few rules she lives by: Don’t rely on others, don’t accept money from someone you don’t know, and never allow a man to control your life. But when she is fired from her job, Josephine may have to bend a few rules…


Devon, the Duke of Snowdon, has never met a more bull-headed woman than Josephine Potter! The Potter sisters are granddaughters of a Viscount and should not have to work for a living. So despite Josephine’s arguments, Devon insists she end her employee status immediately and accept a stipend for her and her sisters. When she is then fired, she accuses him of meddling in her life…and things are about to heat up despite the cold winter weather. As they work together to figure out why Devon’s hotel is losing money, a mutual attraction that won’t be denied, grows between them.


But when rumors of impropriety abound, can Josephine’s reputation be saved…or will her life be destroyed by scandal?





Josephine waited until the coach carrying her youngest sister, Eve, out to the Great West Road had turned a corner, disappearing from sight. She then wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders and started making her way back toward the townhouse they’d shared with their other sister, Louise, until yesterday. The place would be empty now with both sisters away. Eve had been invited to visit with a friend for the holidays, while Louise had gone to Whitehaven in the northern part of the country to become a governess to three young children.

Some extra income would certainly be welcome. Josephine wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to cover their expenses on her own. The townhouse, alone, took most of her wages, while food and clothing swallowed the rest. It was a struggle, but to accept defeat and relocate to humbler lodgings was out of the question. Already, they’d had to give up the status their Mayfair home and country estate had once afforded them. As the great-granddaughters of an earl, they’d enjoyed a comfortable position in society—until their father had squandered it all in a downward spiral of drink and depression. 
Pushing the unpleasant memories as far back as they would go, Josephine determined to focus on the future. The townhouse wasn’t the only thing at stake. There were also Eve’s prospects and their reputations. While Josephine and Louise had resigned themselves to working for a living, they both hoped Eve might still be able to enjoy the Season they’d been denied, that she might marry well, and that her life might be a little easier and happier than what they faced. There would be no large dowry, only the meager sum Josephine had managed to put aside during the last year since their father’s death: a few wages here, a bit of pawned jewelry there. 
Turning onto Vine Street, Josephine bowed her head against the gust of wind sweeping toward her. She’d used the last firewood that morning and would have to see about buying more –yet another cost eating away at her income. But this was England, and they were only in December. It would be several months before she’d be able to forego heating. Unless she wished to get sick and not only risk losing her job but also having to pay the exorbitant fee of seeing a doctor. To do so was not an option, so when she spotted a woman with firewood strapped to her back, Josephine crossed the street and made her approach. “How much for three pieces?” It was all she could carry. 
“Thirty pence, love.” 
Swallowing the bitterness of surrendering the sum, Josephine exchanged the coins for the wood and resumed walking, pushing through the wind as it whipped her skirts around her legs.

She was almost at her door before she noticed the carriage parked at the side of the road. The two black horses hitched to the front of it silently watched her progress. Giving them a wary glance, Josephine balanced the firewood in one arm so she could retrieve her key from her pelisse pocket.

Her face burned with cold and she took a step forward, prepared to seek refuge indoors, when the carriage door opened and a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped down onto the pavement. His hair was black beneath his beaver hat, his features matching the harsh winter climate. Eyes as dark as night caught hers, and his jaw immediately set with distinct determination.

“Miss Potter?” He shoved the carriage door shut and strode toward her. The wind caught the hem of his somber greatcoat, forcing it out behind him in jerky movements.
Josephine raised her chin. “Who wants to know?”


Halting his approach, he told her frankly, “The Duke of Snowdon.” He dipped his head and touched the brim of his hat. “At your service.”





About the Author

Born in Denmark, Sophie has spent her youth traveling with her parents to wonderful places all around the world. She’s lived in five different countries, on three different continents, and speaks Danish, English, French, Spanish and Romanian.

She has studied design in Paris and New York and has a bachelor’s degree from Parson’s School of design, but most impressive of all – she’s been married to the same man three times, in three different countries and in three different dresses.

While living in Africa, Sophie turned to her lifelong passion – writing.

When she’s not busy, dreaming up her next romance novel, Sophie enjoys spending time with her family, swimming, cooking, gardening, watching romantic comedies and, of course, reading. She currently lives on the East Coast.








Thursday, August 24, 2017

EXCERPT PREVIEW Haunted Blade by J.C. Daniels



Haunted, Hunted…Harassed.

Never let it be said that Kit Colbana had ever been given the easy road. Or even the semi-paved road. Only weeks after dealing with the mysterious—and murderous—being called Puck, she’s got another killer on her hands. Perhaps even two.

Some of the bodies turning up bring up haunting memories of a past she longs to forget, but as always, that past is chasing her at her heels, like a hated shadow.

As the body count racks up, there’s an imbalance of power, particularly among the vampire population, and Kit must yet again deal with ugly memories as one of the monsters who tried to break her is set free to deal with the imbalance of power. Yet while a power struggle rages in East Orlando, there’s another, more subtle battle taking place and Kit feels like the center of it all.

Arrogant? Maybe. But the dead bodies don’t bear the mark of her grandmother’s pet killer by sheer coincidence…and she doubts her nemesis being released is either.





“You’re trying to distract me.” I tugged my shirt down only to realize at some point, he’d already gotten my bra unfastened. Swearing, I adjusted that and moved so that the table now separated us. “Not funny, Damon.” 
“I wasn’t trying to be funny.” He tugged at his jeans and went to stretch out on the couch, watching me with heavy lidded eyes. 
So he was hiding something—and it was a wasted effort because I knew what it was.
“I already know you met with Malcolm. And apparently, you’re distracted—that makes me think you’re worried about something,” I said, pacing closer to him. “Or you’d figure out how I know.” 
His nostrils flared and his body tensed. 
He didn’t move from that lazy, slumped position, but his lids lifted and the dark pupils of his eyes flared, darkening his deep gray eyes to near black. “You’ve talked to him…and Marie. Both in one day. I didn’t know you even knew them. Ambitious, kitten. You investigating me again?” 
I curled my lip at him. “Funny.” 
“I’m not laughing.” He reached up and caught the front of my jeans, tugging hard enough that he pulled me off balance and I ended up falling onto his lap. 
He wrapped both arms around me, holding me tight even when I tried to wiggle into a less-awkward position. 
“Damn it, you’re a caveman, sometimes,” I said, jabbing him into the gut and twisting around until I was somewhat comfortable. He relented and loosened his grip, letting me sit straddling his lap. “For the record, I am not laughing either.” 
Jabbing him in the chest, I added, “No, I’m not investigating you, you dumb ass. He’s telling me that he wants me to do a job—says there’s a blade he wants me to find.” 
Damon blinked, the action so slow it was almost comical. He did it a second time, this just simply closed his eyes and shook his head. 
“You’re not taking the job,” he said after almost a full minute of silence.
I gave him a withering look. “You’d do better to reword that, pal, because if I even thought you were trying to dictate how I could work and who I could work for, the two of us would be having the fight to end all fights, right before I kicked your ass out of my apartment, for like…forever.” 
But if I expected those words to bring about any apology, clearly, I was mistaken.
Slowly, in a move that somehow conveyed all the power in his big body, Damon rose to his feet. His hands hung loose at his sides as he studied me, head cocked. “If Marie was here talking to you, and if you’ve been talking to Malcolm, I’m assuming you’ve already figured out a crucial detail.” 
“Just what detail is that, big guy?” I asked, chin going up. 
“The prick is dangerous.” 
“Newsflash—I knew that quite some time ago. I didn’t need to talk to Marie, orhim, to figure that out. I steer clear of him anyway.” 
Stalking close, Damon reached out and hooked his hand around my neck, drawing me to my toes as he hipped his head. “Then why are we having a problem here?” 
I bit his lower lip, using that as a distraction. It almost worked. 
The knee I tried to drive up between his knees worked better. 
Still, between the two, I was able to twist away from him and evade his grasp as I moved farther away. As he turned toward me, blood welling on his lip, I held up a staying hand. “We’re about to have even bigger problems if you don’t calm the hell down,” I warned him. 
He held his position, watching me with glittering eyes as he swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. The small smear of blood that remained, he cleared with a flick of his tongue. “We’re going to have a reckoning about this soon enough, you got that?” 
“I’m scared.” I curled my lip at him, mostly to piss him off—I was plenty pissed myself. 
“Do you honestly think I’m stupid enough to work for him? He’s either fae or an ancient—or both—and you think I’m that crazy, even after what went down with Puck?” 
Damon’s brows shot up, then slowly, his face relaxed. “You know what he is.” 
“Please.” Smoothing my shirt down, I tried to settle myself, but the anger buzzing off him was taking on an erotic edge and that was affecting me in very, very unsettling ways. “Give me some credit. I realize I haven’t been around the block as many times as you have, old man, but I’m not exactly an idiot.” 
He rocked back on his heels, still eying me narrowly. “Since you know what he is and you’ve already said you don’t plan to work for him…what’s the problem?” 
“You!” Huffing out a breath, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You big ass, you don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do! You’re not my alpha! You’re not my sugar daddy, my boss or my master. I love you, Damon, but you don’t get to control me—I don’t obey your orders but you think you can growl and snarl at me and I’ll meekly obey, after all this time?”