Book Promo: What’s A Witch To Do? by Jennifer Harlow

Short Excerpt What’s Witch to Do

Judging from the twenty voicemails, and house phone ringing off the hook, I’d say the demon woke up the whole town. Every witch he came within fifty feet of felt him. I know this because it’s in the book right in front of me Auntie Sara brought over. I sit at the kitchen table with Cora curled up in my lap as I scan the pages. She hasn’t let me go since I retrieved them from the office. Sophie was throwing ingredients into the cauldron as Cora watched. I think it was a protection spell. I just grabbed them and brought them downstairs with me into the kitchen where we’ve set up camp.
Adam hands Auntie Sara a cup of coffee, which she takes with shaky hands. Sophie sits across from me staring at her sister, face made of stone. Adam plops down in the empty chair beside me, sliding a coffee cup over. “Thank you,” I say.
He nods. “So…a demon. I thought they were just myths.”
“Says the werewolf,” I say with a crooked smile. It’s all I can muster right now.
“I cannot believe you lied to me,” Auntie Sara says to me.
I had no choice but to tell her everything. “I’m sorry.”
“What do you know about demons?” Adam asks me.
“Not a whole lot. It’s not something I ever thought would come up. They’re rare, at least the kind I think this one is.”
“There’s more than one type?” Adam asks.
“There’s the kind you summon and the kind that just sneaks through the dimensional cracks,” Auntie Sara instructs. “With the latter you get your basic demonic possession. They’re too weak, so they need a host body. The summoned kind is a specific demon. They have specific traits and powers, depending on who was called.”
“What do they look like?” Adam asks.
“Human,” Sophie says. All eyes dart to her in surprise. “He’ll look like whoever gave the blood for the ritual.” Auntie Sara, Adam, and I all share a concerned look, and Cora grasps me harder. “The murder of something innocent, usually an animal, helps open the doorway. It comes out of the portal, looking like a demon. It’s…” She shakes her head and winces. I get a chill. “It’s unnatural. It doesn’t belong here and can’t survive, so the witch gives her blood and it takes human form.” She looks down at the table away from our stares. “Um, it’ll look, sound, act, even bleed like us. I guess it sort of is us. Just…a little more. And powerful.”
“So it can be killed,” Adam says.
“It’s not as simple as that,” I say. “It’s like a psychic on steroids. If she summoned the demon in charge of fire it can make you spontaneously combust from twenty yards away. If it can read in its dimension, it can invade your mind and trap your consciousness inside yourself.”
“And it’s strong,” Sophie adds. “Probably as strong as you. And it heals fast too.”
My stomach clenches again. “What—what else do you know about them, honey?”
“People can’t tell what they are, but we can because we’re from here and they’re from there. They don’t like us because of it. And they don’t like it that they have to listen to the person who brought them here. But they only have to do one thing, and they’re free. We can trap them, though, with sigils and spells. They can’t hurt us then. Not even with their brains. And they don’t like certain smells, and silver hurts them real bad.”
“An—anything else, honey?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
She just shrugs.
I clear my throat. “Okay um, girls why don’t you go in the living room and pop in a movie?”
Cora burrows deeper into my chest. “No, I don’t want to leave you,” she cries.
“I’ll be in here. I’ll be able to see you the whole time, okay?”
“Come on,” Sophie says as she stands. “We’ll watch Toy Story 3.”
I manage to extract the child from my body and get her to her feet. A stoic Sophie takes her hand and leads her into the living room. Oh hell, what on earth am I going to do? “Mona, how did she know all of that?” Auntie Sara asks. “You don’t think—”
“Auntie Sara, that is a not now question, okay?” The telephone starts ringing again, sending splinters into my already throbbing temples. “Can you just field calls for me?”
“And what am I supposed to tell them?”
“The truth?” My brain is swimming. I rub my temples to focus. “Tell them we’re having an emergency meeting in the morning, time and location in an e-mail to follow.”
“Okay,” Auntie Sara says as she stands. She grabs the portable phone and walks out.
I glance at the girls sitting on the couch, then at Adam. He plays with his cup but his weary eyes stay on me. “Are you okay?” he asks.
I don’t know what it is about those words, or maybe it’s his gentle expression, but I almost burst into tears. Tentatively, he places his hand over mine, squeezing it. No, not now. I gasp and cover my mouth but a few tears make it to my eyes. I shut them. Using all my willpower, I push them away. If I break now I won’t be able to pull myself together again, so I do what I do best. I swallow my emotions so deep an archeologist couldn’t find them. I pull my hand away and wipe the stray tears off my face. Problem. Fix the problem first. “Um, what did you find out from Cheyenne? What time did she get to the bar?”
“She was there when I got there at 10:30. We talked until about 12:30, when I walked her to her car. We woke at 4:30, so she had plenty of time to summon it.”
“What did she say?”
“About you? Not a lot. She thinks you’re prissy, unimaginative, and holier than thou. Her words, not mine.”
“I don’t give a shit what she thinks about my character flaws! In between the make-out sessions did she give you any indication she hates me enough to do all this?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t get much out of her, I’m sorry.”
I stand, practically making the chair fall back. “Well, I can’t do much with sorry, can I?” 
I can’t breathe in here. I need to breathe so I can think. I stalk into the backyard, taking in huge gulps of air. Instantly, I feel like a jerk. I can’t keep doing that. He is in no way, shape, or form deserving of mu ire.
Even still, a second later he steps outside to check on me. “Mona?” 
“I’m sorry,” I say, “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to speak to you like that, I really don’t. I’m not normally like this, I swear.”
“I know.”
“I have no idea what I’m doing, Adam. A killer? Now a demon too? What the hell am I going to do?”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“How? I can’t think. I can’t…” Shit, the tears are trying the damndest to get out. I take a ragged breath. “I am so scared.”
“I know.” He steps toward me, and the next thing I know his arms are around me, pulling me into his warm body. Dear goddess does this feel wonderful. He’s so solid and even smells good, like hyssop and soap. “I know,” he whispers. He simply holds me, my head on his shoulder and hand against his racing heart. I just want to melt into him. For a fleeting instant all the world fades except for me and him, and I can actually believe everything will be okay as long as he never lets me go.
But only for an instant. I’m too realistic for false hope. Lust, be gone. I pull away, my back straightening to gain some respectability back. “Thank you. That helped.”
“Happy to oblige,” he says, for some reason unable to look at me.
I step away and turn my back to him. Okay, I can think now. This is good. “So, um, I have a request to make of you.”
“Anything.”
I knew he’d say that. “I need you to take the girls away from here. Take them to Jason’s or your house or wherever, and keep them safe for me.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
I spin around. “The hell it isn’t! There is a fucking demon here to kill me!”
“Then you come with us.”
“I can’t! I can’t leave everyone here with a demon on the loose. Just take them and go!”
“I am not leaving you alone here!” he says with enough force to punch through a wall.
“This isn’t your fight.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“The game has changed. It’s far too dangerous around me now. Just take them and go! Please!” 
“No. I made a promise and I take promises very seriously.”
I throw my arms up. “I absolve you! Take them and go!”
“No!” Sophie shouts from the door. I turn around as she leads her sister toward us. “If you send us away, we’ll just come right back! We will!” she says, voice shaking. “I can protect you! I can! I know what to do! Please!” She looks at Adam, eyes wild. “Don’t take us away. Please, don’t take us away.”
“Sophie—” I say, my voice breaking along with my heart.
“We are not going anywhere,” Adam says to Sophie. “I promise.”
“You can’t—” I say.
He grabs my arm and yanks me away from the girls, all but dragging me to the other side of the yard. “Now, you listen to me,” he says in a low voice. “You are letting your fear cloud your judgment, and you are scaring the hell out of those girls there. More than even the demon is. Is that what you want?”
“No, but—”
“We are not leaving, do you hear me? Do not mention it again.” He takes a deep breath to regain his composure. “Look, I know you’re used to doing everything on your own, but you cannot do this alone. You can’t. So, I am here to protect you and those girls so you don’t have to. But to do that, we all need to be here. Together. A cohesive unit working together. A pack, okay? And since you aren’t thinking clearly right now, I’ll do it for you. If you die, who will take care of them? They need to be near you, a strong you. If they go away, and you die, they will never ever recover. They have lost too damn much already.”
“It could kill them to get to me,” I whisper.
“Mona, if that thing wants them, and is as powerful as you say it is, it won’t matter where they are. It will find them and use them anyway. At least here they have you, and me, and an entire army of witches in this town to go through first. And I will die before I let anything happen to any of you. Do you believe me?”
I absolutely do. I shake my head.
“Good. Then trust me on this. Then we’re sticking together. We will be cautious, but we will not let fear rule our lives. We stick to the plan. We fortify this place and ourselves as best we can, we find who summoned this thing, and stop her. Together. You…and me. I am not going anywhere. I swear it to you.”
I have the strongest urge to hug him again, among other things I won’t admit to. He’s so sincere I can’t help but feel…relief. At least that’s what I think it is. It’s a new sensation. Take me awhile to get used to it. “Okay,” I whisper. “Okay.”
“Then let’s get started.” He turns away from me and walks over to the girls, picking up Cora as if it was the most natural thing and holding his hand out for Sophie. She looks at it, but after a second of indecision, puts her hand in his. He leads them inside, off to find a way to save my life.
This time I let the tears flow. Because I can.


About the Author:

Jennifer Harlow spent her restless childhood fighting with her three brothers and scaring the heck out of herself with horror movies and books. She grew up to earn a degree at the University of Virginia which she put to use as a radio DJ, crisis hotline volunteer, bookseller, lab assistant, wedding coordinator, and government investigator. Currently she calls Northern Virginia home but that restless itch is ever present. In her free time, she continues to scare the beejepers out of herself watching scary movies and opening her credit card bills.


http://www.jenniferharlowbooks.com

Tales From the Darkside Blog http://blog.jenniferharlowbooks.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/jenharlowbooks

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jennifer.harlow.52

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4708453.Jennifer_Harlow

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/jenharlowbooks/


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Author Guest Post/Promo: Heaven Scent Trilogy by Virginia Alison

Where to start? The question is the easy bit the answer is still unknown.

The Heaven Scent Trilogy is the culmination of a years’ work, which all started with a poem. In July 2011, I met a Cowboy online, from Texas and yes, one of those meetings where you feel you have know this person all your life. Three weeks later he sent me a poem called –On Finding Someone- by Joel Nelson the Cowboy Poet, and I immediately saw a story in it.

If on some better than average day
I should be riding along
Observing—not expecting—well maybe
And should see just as hoof swept by
One flawless arrow point—
If on that bright shining morning
I should step down to lift this point
Turning it delicately—feeling its smoothness
Beneath my fingertips
I would marvel at its perfection
At the way some ancient one
Had tempered and crafted such beauty
At how it came to lie there
All these centuries—covered—uncovered
Re-hidden—re-exposed
Until it came to me
To happen by this place
On this day made now more perfect.
And I would ponder such things
As coincidence and circles and synchronicity,
And I would pocket this treasure near my heart,
And riding on I would recall
Having seen such treasure as this elsewhere
But not this one—not this one.
And for one brief moment I would stiffen with fear
At how one quick glance in another direction
Could have lost this to me forever,
And I would touch my shirt over my heart
Just to make sure.
With permission of © 1998, Joel Nelson

I began writing, the ‘chapters’ just poured out and ten days later had over 20,000 words, at which point said Cowboy disappeared. I duly put the short story onto my website www.breathlessnights.com , which I co-own with Keith David – my writing partner of three years -and started writing something different. Within a month an editor, who I knew from Facebook, messaged me and suggested I make the short story into a novel. It took me about two weeks to look at it again but eventually thought ‘what the heck, in for a penny, in for a pound.’ (Good old English idiom haha) Removing the last 1000 words to keep for the ending, I began filling in the middle.
It took until September to complete the novel. When finished, I decided that the book would benefit from having the poem printed in the front so set about finding the poet. It did not take long and after a few emails and phone calls, he kindly agreed to let me use the poem in the book. Joel also suggested that I attend the ‘Cowboy Poetry Festival’ in Alpine Texas at the end of February. That thought appealed even though I live on a little speck in the Atlantic Ocean known as Madeira Island – over 5000 miles away! Needless to say, not only did I attend the event, I also wrote two more books before I left for the USA, which made up the trilogy.

The Festival was an emotional time. I felt as if I belonged in that little Cowboy town situated in the middle of nowhere in West Texas. During my time there, I discovered all sorts of coincidences pertaining to the book. I described places I had never seen, people I had never met; it all became a little spooky. By the time I got back on the coach five days later, I had decided to buy a house there.

I arrived back on the island and this is where things went downhill. I asked my husband of thirty-two years for a divorce and put my house up for sale. My friends thought I had lost my mind, my family thought I was having a mid life crisis.
In July, I returned to Alpine with my daughter and mother in tow. They understood why I loved the place, which was a bonus and have supported me with my decisions. Joel and his wife are now great friends and I look forward to returning there soon.
So here I am, my life turned upside down because of a poem. I published the first book on Amazon on 31 October 2012, second on 1st December and third on 15th December and the Trilogy came out as one book on the 23rd December. Something is telling me to do this, I do not know why; I am just going with the flow.

They say people come into your life for a reason. The unknown cowboy who sent me the poem did just that however, the person I owe everything to is Keith, I could not have done this without his constant nagging, poking and support. I am in the process of writing and editing a Vampire Erotica Trilogy, the first book of which I will publish in January 2013.A fourth ‘Cowboy’ book is now on its way, based on another of Joel’s poems called ‘The men who ride no more’. I wonder where this one will take me…



Author Bio:

Born in Bournemouth, England, Virginia’s gypsy heritage led her to a rather unusual childhood. Her father worked within the oil industry and she spent much of her younger years travelling. Schooled in several countries until the age of eight, and fluent in several languages, on attending boarding school in the UK, she found delight in the extensive ‘English’ library, and her love of reading was born. From there the travelling continued, around the UK, Wales and then finally finishing in Canada, where she attended, and graduated from St John High school in New Brunswick. Her love of the English language was due partly to the inspiration of her English Tutor. An Oxford Don, he despaired of the American/English idioms, and as she was the only English student in the school, found her a delight to teach.

Spending another year in working in Canada, life then returned her to England and on to the remote Shetland Isles for three years. Following her return to the UK, she threw herself into floristry for fifteen years, and her artistic talents took another turn when she picked up a pen for the first time to write her first dragon fantasy novel. It took another ten years and the passing of her artistic father, to discover her talent for painting. Setting out on a new path, she now paints celebrity portraits to raise money for charities. Through Face book in 2010 she met a friend who encouraged her to take up writing again, shortly after this inspiration which rekindled her spiritual beliefs, she met her (writing collaborator and co-conspirator) Keith David. They now combine their sensual words drawn from the depths of their souls, to captivate the imagination, and entice the reader to discover their innermost desires.


Contact Links:
Web Site

Facebook


Purchase Links
Amazon Heaven Scent

Amazon Heaven Re-Scent

Amazon Heaven Scented

Amazon Heaven Scent the Trilogy

No Strings Attached Giveaway Hop

This is hop for all the people who hate jumping through hoops to enter giveaways.

This is a no strings attached, no requirements to enter hop.


March 5th to 11th

Those hosting a giveaway will be giving away something a reader, blogger or author would enjoy.

The only requirement to enter your giveaway will be for them to leave a name and a way to contact them if you win. No asking to follow, no asking to tweet, you can't even ask them to answer a question.

I will be giving away a $10 Barnes and Noble Giftcard

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Promotional: Revelation: The Seven Signs, Book 1 by Erica Hayes

Book Description:

A fallen angel with a mission and a medical examiner who's lost her faith are fighting for their souls in a glittering, near-future Manhattan...

Blind faith is for fools. That's what Dr. Morgan Sterling believes. And she's going to prove it by curing the zombie plague ravaging her city's slums. She's certain it's not a sign of the End of Days, but a nasty disease—until an angel appears in her morgue in a flash of glory.

Luniel is not just a fallen angel. He's a powerful warrior sworn to fight evil in hopes of a chance at redemption. He's after the demon princes who are stealing the seven vials of holy wrath which, when perverted, will unleash eternal hell on earth.

To stop the plague, Luniel needs Morgan's help, and her faith. But Morgan believes science is their salvation. If the zombie plague is a demonic curse—and if Luniel is true—he’ll have to prove it. Even if he loses his heart to true love or his soul to Hell...


Book Excerpt

White light erupted, brighter than any flashbulb.
She gasped, dazzled. Breeze ruffled her hair. Her elbow hit the trolley, and the camera jolted from her fingers.
A hand gripped her arm, steadying her. A man’s voice, deep and unfamiliar. “Sorry, lady. I didn’t think anyone would be here. Are you—oh, shit.”
Her vision cleared, and she scrabbled on the floor for her camera. “Jesus, you scared the hell outta . . . oh!” She looked up, and fell right back onto her ass, her nerves in disarray.
Whoa. Not just tall, or big. More, in every way compared to . . . well, compared to a normal man.
This guy wasn’t normal.
Black hair, blacker than soot and wilder than music. Blue eyes, hotter and deeper than summer sky, luminous pale skin, long dark lashes any woman would kill for. Arms thicker than her thighs in a dark shirt with no sleeves, strong wrists that made her weak, hands that could crush rocks. And his thighs in those jeans . . . long, powerful, rippling as he moved.
His face was familiar, she realized. Those carved cheekbones and, umm, luscious lips. The bird man. Only Birdy was blond, and this guy was dark and . . . tasty.
His gaze lasered onto hers, relentless, and she shivered. He looked dangerous. Driven. Not a patient man.
Morgan scrambled up, struggling to keep her mind on the issues. This was Babylon, the psycho-killer capital. Well-adjusted guys didn’t break into morgues after-hours. But how Mr. Huge-dark-and-oh-by-the-way-totally-hot had gotten in here was beside the point. So was how easy it’d be for a guy his size to tear her limb from limb, or worse.
He’d seen Birdy’s body. She couldn’t call security. Not yet. Not before she’d preserved the evidence.
She licked her lips. “Um. Hi. I was just . . .”
He strode up to the trolley, and his fingers clenched the edge, hard enough to dent the steel. On drugs. That explained the crazy swirl in his eyes. “You found my brother,” he said stiffly. “I guess asking how he died is redundant.”
“Umm . . . he’s . . . well . . .” Morgan stuttered, unable to keep it in any longer. “He’s a frickin’ bird man! Who the hell are you?”
He turned, and to her surprise, he laughed.
Her guts melted, like warm honey, and she shivered again. So beautiful. So smooth and melodic. She wanted to press her thighs together, feel his tingling warmth . . .
Or not. Her indignation sparked. He hadn’t answered her question. Who the hell was he?
The guy with the Rohypnol laugh shook his head. “Bird man. Christ. You people. Never believe what’s right in front of you.”
“Sorry, but I’m a scientist. I believe what I can see.” Morgan folded her arms, defiant, and edged closer to the wall where the alarm button was. Screw collecting more evidence. This guy was seriously creeping her out, and it wasn’t just because he had her thinking about sex instead of squirting him with capsicum spray.
“You do, do you?” His gaze flicked to the alarm button, and back to her, and swift as the flashbulb he dived forward and grabbed her arm. “Then believe this.”
Light shimmered again, dazzling. And glossy black wings burst from his shoulders in a rain of golden glitter.


Morgan’s heart catapulted, and she gulped for breath. The golden light glimmered, and dissolved.
But his lush midnight feathers didn’t. And he held her, his body close in the heady scent of altar smoke. His whisper rumbled through her chest. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you call your security. You never should have seen any of this, but it’s too late for that now. My name is Luniel. That’s Ithiel, my twin. He’s an angel. And so am I.”
Morgan struggled, her mind blanking. It couldn’t be true. Not possible. She must be dreaming. Yet . . .
She wriggled, beating at his massive forearm. “Let me go!”
He let go.
She stumbled away, rounding on him. More fool him. Whatever this guy was, he wasn’t to be trusted. “Sorry. Not possible. I don’t believe in angels.”
“Not my problem.” The man—Luniel—shrugged, feathers ruffling. His accent was elusive, a mixture of exotic and familiar, like he came from no place in particular.
“It’ll be your problem when I call the cops, you freak.” The dude still wore a shirt with no sleeves, and the wings—his wings—fit easily into the cutaway space. Blacker than black, like soot, broader than his massive shoulders, and long, the tips of the feathers reaching to mid-calf. It looked so real.
Morgan’s mind stuttered. She must be dreaming. But if this was a dream, surely he’d be wearing white robes and a halo? Instead of all dark and smoldering and . . . and sinful, like some insane Mardi Gras biker?
She sidled backwards, towards her desk in the cutting room. A girl didn’t grow up in Babylon without learning some self-defense. Her pistol was in the drawer. Maybe she could get away, lock him in, call security. 9-1-1 was a waste of time, despite her threat. Resources were stretched, and police response to anything short of a terrorist plot in progress just didn’t happen.
Luniel stalked her, midnight wings flaring. “Freak? Wow. I’m so pleased to meet you . . . I’m sorry, what didn’t you say your name was?”
“I’m Dr. Morgan Sterling. This is my mortuary. You’re trespassing.” Behind an autopsy bench, a few steps closer to the desk.
He circled, leaning over the bench on two hands, muscles flexing. “As they say these days, Dr. Sterling: whatever. Tell me where they found my brother.”
She fumbled against the desk, feeling behind her. “Screw you.”
“Is that an offer? I’m touched.” His hot blue gaze drilled her, magnetic. “But not distracted. Come on, Doctor, it’s important.”
She ripped the drawer open and grabbed the pistol, leveling it at him two-handed and thumbing the safety off. “So’s this. Back off.”
“No.” He vaulted the bench with ease, landing silently before her on wafting wings. Careless of her pistol. Unruffled, like a panther facing a hissing pussy cat, some small, insignificant creature who posed no threat.
His delicious scent paralyzed her, a rich toffee sweetness. Her mouth dried. He was luminous, dazzling, too perfect to be real. Certainly too perfect to be telling the truth. “Get away.”
“Wait, let’s see. Umm . . . no.” He cocked his head, and reached for her hair, stroking it with one finger. “You’re very pretty, Morgan Sterling. Pity if that got spoiled. Tell me about my brother.”
Now her gun was trapped between them. Her hands quivered, her memory of defensive moves a blank. “Get away! I’ll shoot!”
“No, you won’t.” He wrapped her hair around his fingers, and leaned closer, sniffing her. “You’re a doctor. You don’t hurt people.”
“Don’t bet on it.” She inhaled, and squeezed the trigger.

Paperback: Amazon Book Depository BN

Ebook: Amazon BN Sony iTunes

About the Author:

Erica Hayes was a law student, an air force officer, an editorial assistant and a musician, before finally landing her dream job: fantasy and romance writer.

She writes dark paranormal and urban fantasy romance, and her books feature tough, smart heroines and colourful heroes with dark secrets.

She hails from Australia, where she drifts from city to city, leaving a trail of chaos behind her. Currently, she's terrorizing the wilds of Northumberland.

Website

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Sunday Post Edition #8 & # 9

The Sunday Post is a weekly meme hosted by Kimba the Caffeinated Book Reviewer ~ It's a chance to share news~ A post to recap the past week on your blog, showcase books and things we have received and share news about what is coming up on our blog for the week ahead.

This Week @ Books, Books The Magical Fruit

Week of Feb 17 – Feb 23

Author Interview (Bewitching Book Tours): All She Craved - The Agreement by Cami Stark
Author Interview: (Pump Up Your Books Tours) 'Rembrandt Sings' by Michael Johnston
Book Blast/Giveaway (I Am A Reader) The Ugly Stepsister Strikes Back by Sariah Wilson
Book Blast/Giveaway (I Am A Reader) Baked Alaska by Josi S. Kilpack
Book Review: Dawn's Big Move (The Baby-Sitters Club, #67) by Ann M Martin
Book Promo (First Wild Card Tours) My Amish Childhood by Jerry Eicher
Book Review/Interview: (Providence Book Promotions) Goodnight, Brian by Steven Manchester
Book Promo (First Wild Card Tours) The Emotionally Healthy Woman: Eight Things You Have to Quit to Change Your Life by Geri Scazzero
Book Promo (First Wild Card Tours): Acts of the Spirit-Filled: A Novel of the First Century by Johnnie Jones
Cover Reveal:(YA Bound) A Need So Insatibale by Cecilia Robert
Cover Reveal:(AToMR) Spirit (Elemental, #5) by Shauna Granger
Cover Reveal: (AToMR)Bitter Angel by Megan Hand
Cover Reveal (Bewitching Book Tours): Caged Heat by Milly Taiden
Giveaway (I Am A Reader) Innovera Yakov
Promotion Event/Giveaway: (AToMR) Ten Days of Perfect by Andrea Randall
Book Blast (Bewitching Book Tours): Cupid Rocks by Francesca Hawley
Author Guest Post/Promo(Reading Addiction Blog Tours) An Italian Obsession by Kfir Luzzatto
Author Interview (I Am A Reader) Max Xylander and the Island of Zumuruud by Jon Thomason


Week of Feb 24 – Mar 2
Author Guest Blog(Bewitching Book Tours): Heart Book I in Animal Trilogy by Jacqueline Paige
Author Interview (Lightning Book Promotions) The Littlefield Chronicles - The Gift by Tegon Maus
Author Guest Blog(Bewitching Book Tours): Heart Book I in Animal Trilogy by Jacqueline Paige
Book Promo: (I am a Reader) The Ugly Stepsister Strikes Back by Sarah Wilson
Book Blast/Giveaway (I Am A Reader) Phantom Summer by Amy Sparling
Book Promo (First Wild Card Tours)Friend Me: Turning Faces Into Lasting Friendships by Donna Carter
Cover Reveal: (AToMR) Emancipating Andie by Priscilla Glenn
Book Promo (First Wild Card Tours): Come Eat at My Table by Ruth O'Neil
Cover Reveal: (AToMR) Small Town Girl by Linda Cunningham
Leap Into Books Giveaway Hop - February 28th to March 7th (Co-hosted by Jinky is Reading)
Promotion Event/Giveaway: (AToMR) Sweetest Taboo (Taboo, #1) by Eva Marquez
Author Interview (Bewitching Book Tours): Then Came Love by Mona Ingram
Book Promo (First Wild Card Tours): Surrendered Love, The Amish of Webster County Book 2 by Laura V. Hilton
Scavenger Hunter/Giveaway(AToMR) Margaret from Maine by Joseph Monninger
Book Promo (First Wild Card Tours)Katie Opens Her Heart by Jerry Eicher
Author Interview (Bewitching Book Tours): Then Came Love by Mona Ingram
Promo(Reading Addiction Blog Tours) Conflicting Hearts by J.D. Burrows

Week of Mar 3 – Mar 9
Author Interview(Bewitching Book Tours): What’s A Witch To Do? by Jennifer Harlow
Promotional(Bewitching Book Tours): Revelation: The Seven Signs, Book 1 by Erica Hayes
No String Attached - March 2013 (I am A Reader)
Author Guest Post/Promo: (Reading Addiction Blog Tours) Heaven Scent Trilogy by Virginia Alison
Author Guest Post: (Black Lion Tours) The Swords of Gregara - Honora by Cynthia Woolf
Author Interview (Bewitching Book Tours): Return by Charity Santiago
Author Interview(Pump Up Your Books Tours) The Greeks of Beaubien Street by Suzanne Jenkins
Book Blast (I Am A Reader) Death & Kisses by Clover Autrey
Book Blast (I Am A Reader) Max Xylander and the Island of Zumuruud by Jon Thomason
Book Review(Pump Up Your Books Tours) Resolutions For Stress Relief by Darlene Josaphe
Cover Reveal: (AToMR) Catalyst by Jennifer Snyder
Cover Reveal: (AToMR) Death’s Awakening by Sarra Cannon

Promo: Conflicting Hearts by J.D. Burrows

Conflicting Hearts

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: November 2012

Synopsis:

Rachel Hayward hoped to have a quiet thirtieth birthday alone. Instead, fate had different plans.
Caught in traffic and late for work, she can do nothing except wait for the freeway gridlock to ease. A three-car pileup has caused the snarl. Just as cars begin to move at a faster clip, Rachel takes her eyes off the road to gawk at the accident and rear-ends the car in front of her.
Sick over having ruined her day, she lowers her head onto the steering wheel and waits for the driver to begin a tirade over her stupidity. Instead, a kind man taps on her window showing genuine concern about her welfare. The brief colliding encounter suddenly starts a relationship between two strangers that takes off under odd circumstances.
When the couple becomes intimate, their relationship turns into a conflicting set of desires and needs. Rachel is bound by a shameful, dark childhood. After she falls in love with the handsome Ian Richards, she is faced with the decision to leave him or finally confront her demons to obtain the one thing in life she's always needed--healing from the sexual abuse she endured as a little girl.

EXCERPT

Ian slowly turns me around so that I’m facing him. We’re nose to nose. Our bodies are touching front to front. This is not good, or maybe it is good. He doesn’t say a thing, except to look at me with a smoldering gaze. A second later, he lazily moves his eyes toward my lips.

I’m frozen. I look at him with half anticipation and half panic. He’s going to kiss me; I know it. His intentions are clearly expressed in his blue eyes, which have turned a shade darker. I’m losing it. Hurriedly, I remind him of his words to fend off the advance.

“Uh, I thought you wanted to be just friends?”

A look of admiration sweeps across his face. He gently brings his hand up to my forehead and brushes a few strands of hair out of my eyes. Ian is silent, but it’s obvious he is thinking this through. It’s driving me crazy being close to his body.

“You want more?” I whisper, trying to get him to say something.

“Do you?”

He answers with a question. It’s annoying. “I asked you first,” I reply, not cracking a smile or giving away my heart pounding in my chest. I can’t look at him any longer. I close my eyes, and silently ask God, who I’ve ignored for years, to help me.

Then I feel the warmth of his breath approach. He circles my lips with his and gives me a long, tender kiss. Sweet Jesus. He tastes so delicious! I hope the breath mint I popped in my mouth a half hour ago is still working. Eventually, he pulls away, and I open my eyes.

“Does that answer your question?”

Read Chapter 1 Online via a Flip Book:

Here

Author Bio:

J. D. Burrows is a pen named used for contemporary romance written by Vicki Hopkins. She has authored four other historical fiction/romance novels. Her recent historical (Dark Persuasion) won the 2012 USA Best Book Awards Finalist for Fiction Romance.The author lives in the rainy Pacific Northwest with a pesky cat who refuses to let her sleep in. She enjoys traveling to England, researching her English ancestry, finding long-lost relatives from the Holland lineage, and creating stories that touch the hearts of women.For information about her historical romance, visit http://vickihopkins.com

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Purchase Links

Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Author Interview: Then Came Love by Mona Ingram

Hi Sue. Thanks for inviting me to stop by. I’m an incurable romantic with the best job in the world; I get to make up love stories. Or as I say on my twitter page, I take dictation from the voices in my head. Speaking of voices, they’re telling me to stop chatting and answer your questions...

Who or what inspired you to become a writer?
I’d have to say that my love of books came first, thanks to my mother. I spent many long and happy hours at the local library. The thought of story time still makes me smile.

How long did it take you to write Then Came Love?
This one came together fairly quickly. I generally think about them for a while before I actually sit down to write, and it virtually wrote itself. About a month, including edits.

While writing, how many times do you go back and re-write a plot?
I don’t think I’ve ever done that. I don’t write an outline, but I do visualize scenes in my head. I can often be found with my head down, staring at the keyboard as I visualize a scene. Somehow it comes out as words. Magic, huh?

You run into a bookstore. Where do you go first?
I’m such a consumer. I got to the best sellers. I’ve probably read the rest.

How many books a month do you tend to read?
On average, ten.

In all the books you’ve read, who is your favorite character and why?
My favorite Wilbur Smith book is called Blue Horizon. The young man in it is Jim Courteny, and I think he’s my idea of a real man. He’s an adventurer who knows who he is, and he loves deeply. Sigh.

State 5 random facts about yourself.
I’m a hockey fan. (Go, Canucks!). I lived in Paris for six months and didn’t go up the Eiffel Tower. I dislike turnips. I’ve seen wolves in the wild. My granddaughter is one of my best friends.

Your favorite Genre?
Romance.

What are you currently reading?
In My Sister’s Shoes by Sinéad Moriarty. She’s a talented author and the characters leap off the page.

What is the best book you’ve ever read?
The Four Fires, by Bryce Courtenay.

Any new projects coming up?
Yes. I’m mulling over a trilogy, but it may be a while before I start. I want the stories and the characters to complement each other, but be stand-alone books with a clear-cut ending. I don’t like series where the reader is left hanging.

Here’s your chance to market your book. Describe it, and why readers should pick it up.
Then Came Love is a gentle romance story, with some uncompromising, realistic elements. Amanda, the heroine, is afraid of her husband, and falls in love with Jackson, an undercover RCMP officer. We’re not sure how she can resist him – we probably couldn’t – but she does, and we respect her for that. The secondary characters are charming and add a lot to an already compelling story. And, as I often do in my stories, I’ve tossed in a surprising twist at the end. I think you’ll enjoy it.


Short Excerpt

Setup: Amanda’s car has just slid off the road.
Amanda unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed the empty water bottle. A few deadfalls littered the forest floor; thankfully she’d worn an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Vince hated her to dress casually. It had felt good to pull on the old jeans this morning knowing that she had a whole week without him harping at her for one thing or the other. It was going to be heaven. She reached the stream and filled the bottle. The water was cool, clear and sweet. She drank greedily, laughing at herself when some water dribbled down her chin. It doesn’t get any better than this, she thought, swiping at the drops with the back of her hand.
Movement along the creek bed caught her eye and she stared for a moment, unsure of her eyes. It was a puppy. Cold and bedraggled, it appeared to be on its last legs, clambering over the rounded rocks at the creek’s edge.
“Oh, you sweet thing.” She spoke aloud and the puppy looked up. It spotted her and wagged its tail.
She was quite sure it was a spaniel. Even at this young age, its ears were droopy, and even moreso since they were soaking wet. She picked it up and pulled it to her chest. The dog was a mass of movement, shivering, squirming with excitement and trying to lick her face all at the same time.
“Are you lost?” she asked, burying her face in its fur. She raised her head and looked around. “That was a silly question, wasn’t it? Of course you’re lost.” She stroked the dog’s head and it calmed. “You can’t have wandered too far from home. I’ll bet the people at Loon Lake know about you. Come on, let’s get up to the road and start walking.”
She wrapped the dog in her fleece jacket, grabbed her tote bag, locked the vehicle and climbed the bank. “Someone will come along soon,” she said, not sure if she was reassuring herself or the dog. “It may be remote up here, but it’s not the end of the world.” She started walking. The few times she’d come to the cottage she hadn’t been driving, but she knew that Vince used the sign to Loon Lake as a marker. Their driveway was a mile and a half beyond that, and led into Sandy Lake.
She’d been walking for about fifteen minutes when a pickup truck came up from behind and stopped. The driver leaned toward her, one arm on the steering wheel and the other draped along the back of the seat. “You okay?” he asked, eyeing the bundle in her arms. “I’ll bet a deer jumped out in front of you.”
She met his eyes. “That’s right. How did you know?”
He gave her a gentle smile. “It happens a lot around here. Some people say you should just hit them.” He paused. “Thankfully, they’re in the minority. Can I offer you a ride?”
She hesitated and looked ahead. “I’m going to Loon Lake. I can walk, thanks.”
He shrugged. “I’m going there myself. It’s no trouble.” He leaned across and opened the passenger door. “My name’s Jackson. Hop in.”
Vince had warned her against talking to strangers in this area. Sometimes he treated her like a child. But then she had to admit that she’d been acting like a child, letting him boss her around. “Okay,” she said. “I’d appreciate that.”
She climbed up into the cab of the truck. “I’m Amanda.”
“What have you got there?” He looked at the bundle again. “Is it a baby?”
She cradled the puppy, which was being surprisingly quiet. “No. Yes. Well, sort of.”
He frowned, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “It either is or it isn’t.”
The puppy chose that moment to shake free of her jacket.
The man looked like he’d just won the lottery. “It’s Rocky”.
“Rocky?” She started to giggle as the dog licked her face. “You know this dog?”
“Sure do and I also know two kids who are going to be very happy to see him. He belongs to Hannah and Logan.” He reached out to pat the dog. “I work for their parents at Loon Lake Resort. The dog went missing a day and a half ago and we’ve all been looking for him ever since.” He put the truck in gear and pulled back out onto the road. “It’s a good thing he wasn’t gobbled up by a cougar.”
Amanda instinctively covered the dog’s ears. “Don’t say that. You’ll frighten him.”
Jackson’s lips twitched and she studied him as he drove. He hadn’t shaved for a day or two but it wasn’t the look affected by celebrities these days; it was the beginnings of a real, honest-to-goodness beard. He wore his dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck. The only thing missing was an earring. He glanced over and seemed about to say something, then changed his mind. Amanda was disappointed; there was something about this man that made her want to get to know him. He was nothing like Vince, she knew that instinctively. Her husband was a slick, perfectly groomed city type who wore suits that cost enough to feed a third world village for a month.
Deep down she sensed that the man beside her didn’t need the outward trappings of success. He exuded a powerful aura of masculinity that made her light in the head. She studied his hands on the steering wheel and for a wild, heart-pounding moment she wondered what they would feel like on her body.
Enough. She couldn’t think like this. She was a married woman, and although Vince had been treating her like dirt recently, he was still extremely jealous. She hated to think what he would do if she was ever foolish enough to get involved with another man. She shuddered and turned her attention back to the dog.

About the Author:

Mona Ingram was born in Ontario, Canada. Her family moved to British Columbia when she was twelve, and she can't imagine living anywhere else. In recent years she has lived in the Okanagan Valley and on Vancouver Island. In addition to reading and writing, traveling and bird watching are among Mona’s favorite pastimes.

Mona writes contemporary romance novels and takes great delight in creating unexpected twists and turns in her story lines. She frequently sets her books in areas which are familiar to her, immersing the reader in the setting. One reader recently commented that “after reading Fixing Freddie, I felt as though I’d been on a trip to Vancouver.”

Website: http://monaingram.com

Blog: http://monaingram.blogspot.com

Facebook: http://tiny.cc/h6gfnw

Twitter: @MonaIngram1

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1073924.Mona_Ingram



a Rafflecopter giveaway

Book Promo: Surrendered Love, The Amish of Webster County Book 2 by Laura V. Hilton

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!




You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Laura V. Hilton

and the book:

Surrendered Love,
The Amish of Webster County Book 2

Whitaker House (April 1, 2013)

***Special thanks to Cathy Hickling for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Amish romance writer Laura V. Hilton, of Horseshoe Bend, AR is a pastor’s wife, stay-at-home mother of five, homeschooler, breast cancer survivor and avid blogger. Her passion has long been the mission of Christian fiction, initially as a reviewer, but in the past two years as the author of four successful novels including The Amish of Seymour series (Patchwork Dreams, A Harvest of Hearts, and Promised to Another) and Healing Love, first of The Amish of Webster County. Her books have sold thousands of copies and garnered kudos from reviewers and readers alike with A Harvest of Hearts receiving the 2012 Laurel Award.





Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Janna Kauffman enjoys her job as a personal shopper for the homebound in her Amish community. But when Janna’s niece, Meghan, comes to live with her family—part of a plan by Janna’s sister to rid her daughter of her rebellious ways—Janna spends less time shopping and more time explaining Meghan’s erratic behavior to local police officer Hiram “Troy” Troyer, who was raised Amish but left the faith after a fatal accident that killed his brother and also a brother of Janna’s. Frequent interactions draw Janna and Troy together, rekindling an attraction they first experienced in their youth. What will become of their relationship? And will headstrong Meghan ever tame her ways?

Product Details:

List Price: $12.99

Paperback: 256 pages

Publisher: Whitaker House (April 1, 2013)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 1603745076

ISBN-13: 978-1603745079

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

The police officer sorting though the Gala apples reminded Janna Kauffman of Hiram Troyer, but this Englischer couldn’t be her teenage crush. With a sigh, she focused again on the display in front of her. Cabbage. She picked up a head. Homemade coleslaw would go well with the hamburgers and baked beans she had planned for supper. As she set the cabbage in her cart, she couldn’t help stealing another peek at the good-looking officer. Dark blond hair, cut in a fancy hairstyle; trim build…ach, she shouldn’t be noticing such things about an Englischer.



Janna looked away, but not before he glanced back at her. She did a double take. She thought his eyes were blue, like Hiram’s, but she couldn’t be sure; he turned around and walked away. Probably headed for the doughnuts. She smiled and turned her attention to her shopping list.



10 bags carrots (5 lbs. ea.)



When she placed the carrots in her cart, the hair on the back of her neck stood up with a tingling sensation, as if someone were watching her. She turned and caught the policeman’s glance just before it slid away. A thrill shot through her to think that an Englischer might be attracted to her, an Amish woman, but she stifled it. His interest was a moot point. Of course, he might have just been curious about why she’d loaded her cart with so many carrots.



He disappeared around a corner and down an aisle. She picked up her list again.



10 oranges (Emma Brunstettler)



Emma believed that an orange a day kept all sickness away. And it seemed to work for her. Janna selected ten ripe ones and loaded them into Emma’s mesh bag. The hair on the back of her neck rose again, as did her pulse. Her breath hitched.



She wouldn’t look. Instead, she lowered the bag of oranges into the cart. Somehow she missed, though. They tumbled out and went rolling across the floor.



“Klutz.” A woman carrying a plastic basket stepped over the fallen fruit and hurried away.



As Janna bent to pick up the first of the escaped oranges, she noticed a pair of legs wearing blue pants approaching. It might be a store manager, coming to yell at her. Hopefully not. Worse, it might be the police officer. Had he witnessed her clumsy humiliation? She didn’t know which she dreaded more. She risked a glimpse as he crouched and started gathering up the oranges. The police officer. He grinned as he reached out to hand them to her. She tried to keep her burning face averted as she stretched out a quivering hand to accept the fruit and then stuffed each piece back inside the bag.



His smile would have made her weak in the knees, if she weren’t already squatting. Even so, she put one hand on the floor to keep her balance.



He stood, picked up his few grocery items from the edge of a display, and turned to go.



She found her voice. “Danki.”



He glanced back at her and winked, causing her heart rate to accelerate even more. “Careful with those oranges. They’ll get you every time.” He strode toward the checkout lines. She smiled when she noticed the box of doughnuts and canister of coffee he had tucked under one elbow. In his other hand was a bag of apples.



Janna gripped the bag of oranges in one hand and slowly stood, watching him as he moved through the checkout line, even as she gave herself a silent yet stern lecture for ogling him the whole time.



An hour later, she pushed the cart, piled full with her bagged purchases, outside and across the parking lot to her buggy, her thoughts still on the handsome police officer.



She started sorting through the bags, searching for the Yoder family’s groceries to load first, since their home was the last stop she would make along her delivery route.



“Janna Kauffman?” An Englisch man’s voice shattered her concentration.



Janna’s heart stuttered. Was it him? She stopped rifling through the plastic bags in her cart and looked up. A policeman approached, but he wasn’t the one from the store. This man had dark hair, and sunglasses covered his eyes. Her heart crash-landed somewhere in the vicinity of her toes.



“I’m Officer Pete O’Dell.”



Janna summoned a smile. “Is there a problem, Officer?”



He didn’t grin back. His lips didn’t even twitch. She stiffened, trying to prepare herself for the bad news she felt sure she was about to hear. She searched her mind for possibilities. She knew she hadn’t double parked, and dropping oranges wasn’t against the law. Ach, maybe there’d been an accident.



Just then, the passenger door of the police cruiser parked behind him opened. Her rush of thoughts stopped as the blond officer from the store climbed out and approached her, sliding his sunglasses down from the top of his head to cover his eyes.



Her face heated again in shame for having stared at him in the store. He looked at her buggy, and the stacks of coolers labeled with the full names of Amish men. “Where’d you get all these?” He opened up the lid of a red cooler labeled “Elam Troyer”—the father of her childhood crush. That seemed like a slap in the face. The cooler would be empty, except for an ice pack.



Janna sucked in a breath. The officers probably thought she’d stolen the coolers. “It isn’t what you think.” She waved a hand toward her cart, still piled with plastic bags. “I do their grocery shopping.” Embarrassed at being caught in yet another humiliating situation by the cute cop, she pulled her shopping list out of her pocket and shoved it toward him.



He took it and began scanning it.



Officer O’Dell shifted his weight. “Are you the guardian of a Meghan Forrest?”



Renewed panic filled Janna. She pushed down her fears and nodded. “She’s my niece.”



“Has she contacted you today?”



“No, but she can’t; she’s in school.” At least, that’s where she was supposed to be. But if he was asking, then maybe it was Meghan who was about to receive bad news. “Is it her mom?” She froze, dreading the answer. If anything had happened to her sister Sharon, she didn’t know what she’d do.



“Your niece was just picked up for shoplifting,” said Officer O’Dell, matter-of-factly. “We need you, as her guardian, to come to the police station.”



“Excuse me?” Janna shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. “I think you must have the wrong person. Megan is still in class.” She glanced at the position of the sun, then looked for a watch. She found one, conveniently located on the arm of the handsome officer. Almost noon.



The other officer still studied her shopping list, not contributing anything to the conversation.



“Well, apparently she decided to skip school today. Will you come with us to the station, Ms. Kauffman?” Officer O’Dell’s question sounded more like an order, as if she had no choice.



A knot formed in her stomach. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” But she stood there, staring at the plastic bags in the cart. Plastic bags full of perishables. She needed to deliver the food first. Or sort it, at the very least, load it into the coolers, and pray that it would still be cool enough after she’d handled the situation with Meghan. Otherwise, she’d have to pay out of her own pocket to replace the spoiled food. Besides, late or incomplete orders wouldn’t help her business any. And here, she’d been marveling at how well her day had been going.



“Now would be a good time, Ms. Kauffman.” Officer O’Dell grabbed a plastic bag from her cart and tossed it into the buggy.



Janna reached for the bag and pulled it back out. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she said again. Maybe he hadn’t heard her the first time. “I have to get these bags sorted and put the food in the coolers so it won’t spoil.”



“Go on, O’Dell. I’ll help her.” The blond policeman handed her back her list. He ran his fingertip over Elam Troyer’s name written in black permanent marker, then turned is dark sunglasses in her direction. “What can I do?”



Officer O’Dell scowled and strode back to his cruiser.



Janna swallowed. She wasn’t Meghan’s parent—just one of her temporary guardians, until Sharon felt ready to welcome Meghan back home. She sighed. Since the police probably wouldn’t ask a parent to fly in, she would have to deal with it. Unless Daed could do it. For a second, her hopes flared. Then died. Nein, Daed and Mamm were in Springfield, visiting someone in the hospital. Their driver wouldn’t bring them home again until this evening. She was it.



“I don’t know if you can help,” Janna said. “I need to pack the items on my list in the proper coolers. I tried to keep the orders separate in the store, but the bagger sort of packed them into the cart at random, so I still need to figure out who gets what.” Normally, she was better organized, but this time, the police officer had taken her rational capacities prisoner.



“Then, you tell me which cooler it goes into and I’ll put it in.”



She watched his eyebrows rise above his dark glasses. He really did seem familiar…



“So, why do you do their grocery shopping?” He tapped his fingertips on the lid of Elam Troyer’s red cooler.



She shrugged and decided to answer generally. The Troyers’ reasons were personal and certainly none of his concern. “Oh, various reasons. Some are too sick or old or physically unable; some are mamms with newborns at home. Others are widowers with no interest in shopping.” She looked through the contents of one bag, consulted her list, then handed it to the officer. “This goes to Elam Troyer.”



A muscle flickered in his jaw. She wondered if the name meant something to him.



But it was probably her overactive imagination.



***



He should be shot for neglecting his parents like he did. Hiram Troyer, better known as Troy, removed his hand from the top of the cooler, lifted the lid, and lowered the plastic bag inside. He’d run by their house on the way home and check on them. If they were paying someone else to do their grocery shopping, then something must have happened.



He held up another bag. “Same family?”



She nodded distractedly as she sorted through another bag.



He dropped it in the cooler, keeping his gaze on her. Janna Kauffman. I’d figured she would have gotten married by now. She always stood out at the singings and frolics, back when—. No point going there. That was a lifetime ago. Still, when he’d seen her eyes for the first time in years, it had felt like an earthquake, rocking his heart and rearranging his mind. The aftershocks still rumbled through him.



But his thoughts were no longer scrambled; they were crystal clear—and he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He just didn’t know how he was going to do it.



Janna handed him several more bags. “These are the last of Elam Troyer’s.”



He was glad his sunglasses hid his eyes as his gaze slid down her curvy body beneath the usual cape dress, hers lavender. She was still as attractive as ever, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. She’d skipped the black bonnet the women usually wore over their prayer kapps when they went out—but he’d seen other women do that, especially as the days got warmer. And they’d been reaching 80 degrees almost daily for almost a week now. Eighty-two, he thought he read on the digital sign in front of the bank. He could have been mistaken, though, because gazing into Janna’s eyes left him reeling. He looked away.



He’d left Meghan locked up in custody in the otherwise empty police station. He slid his glance back to Janna, then away. “Hurry and finish.”



Okay, that was a bit abrupt, but he needed to get back to the station before the manager of the store Meghan had allegedly robbed showed up to give a statement. She’d been running the cash register and needed to find someone to cover for her.



Troy glanced in the direction of the police station. Maybe O’Dell had gone straight back there. Troy had told him he’d talk to Janna, but, as usual, O’Dell hadn’t listened. Probably because a hint of action beat the dispatcher job O’Dell was supposed to be doing today.



Come down to it, Troy needed to do his job, instead of standing there staring at this woman. He needed to get away from Janna and the feelings she awakened in him.



***



Years of striving to be the model bishop’s daughter, and here she was, on her way to the police station. At least she wasn’t the one in trouble. She hoped shoplifting wasn’t punishable with jail time. Sharon would never forgive her if Meghan ended up with a sentence to serve. Maybe she could talk the nice blond policeman into going easy on her niece. And somehow keep the news from her older sister.



As Janna maneuvered her buggy into the parking lot of the police station, she began to regret the samples of meat and cheese she’d succumbed to while shopping. They weighed heavy in her stomach.



She climbed out of the buggy, tied the reins to a telephone pole, and went inside the station, wishing again that she didn’t have to handle this. Wishing the problem would just disappear. If only the blond policeman had waited for her. But he’d disappeared before she could talk her horse, Tulip, into leaving the grocery store parking lot.



Officer O’Dell sat at the reception desk with his feet propped up in front of him, a full mug of coffee in one hand, what appeared to be a McDonald’s burger in the other. The room smelled like fresh-brewed coffee. A glance around showed an almost full pot on a file cabinet.



“Ms. Kauffman,” he said around a mouthful of food. “Go on in.” He pointed abruptly over his shoulder at a partially closed door.



Janna inclined her head to acknowledge his directions and then stepped over to the door. She knocked once, then pushed it open.



The blond officer sat behind a big desk, talking on the phone. King of the office, apparently. He cast a quick glance in her direction but made no visible acknowledgment of her presence. He was handsome, but instead of the friendliness she’d seen earlier, now his expression was stern. She probably didn’t know him. Maybe she’d just seen him around town a time or two.



Meghan sat hunched over in a far chair. She didn’t look over at all. Not gut.



A woman wearing tight black pants and a low-cut hot pink stood against the wall on the other side of the desk. She, too, kept her eyes down, as she played with the bangles on her wrist.



Janna inhaled as deeply as she could, given the knot in her stomach. She pressed a hand to her abdomen, hoping to keep her snacks down.



The officer finally set the phone in its cradle and looked up at Janna. His blue-eyed gaze pierced her. He was good-looking but scary—not someone she’d want to tangle with on a dark dirt road. Or even in a brightly lit office.



He nodded at the empty chair facing his desk. “Please, have a seat.”



She thought she’d rather stand, like the woman with the bangle bracelets. Position herself right there by the garbage can, in case her food decided not to stay put. But obediently, she dropped compliantly into the chair. Again she glanced over at Meghan, who studied the floor as if fascinated by the pattern in the linoleum tiles.



Janna cleared her throat. “I’m sure this is just a simple misunderstanding.”



The officer slid a card holding a pair of earrings across the desk. They were dangly and sparkly. Definitely something Meghan would wear. “We found these in your niece’s possession.” His voice was stern. “Would you like to see the surveillance video?”



Not really.



He went ahead and pushed a button of the remote control on his desk. On the monitor behind him, a rather grainy picture appeared of Meghan and someone Janna didn’t know. She must have gotten away, or maybe they’d put her in another room. Despite the poor quality of the film, it was clear enough to see both girls slip some merchandise into their pockets.



He pushed another button, and the screen went blank. His cold eyes speared Janna again before he shifted his gaze to Meghan. “Shoplifting is a serious crime, and it usually lands you in jail for up to a few months. But, since this is your first offense, we’re willing to work with you.” He gestured to the woman with the bracelets. “Ms. Taft, the store manager, has said she won’t press charges if you agree to six weeks of community service. I just talked to the DA to make sure this was agreeable. He said you could begin Monday after school. You’ll report to the county courthouse. And you will not enter that store again. If you do, the management won’t hesitate to report you for trespassing.”



Janna nodded. “I’m sure it won’t happen again.” I hope. She glanced at Meghan to look for any indication that she felt the same way, but her niece’s face was impassive.



He tapped the card holding the earrings. “The DA also expects you to pay for the merchandise you stole. Three times the retail value.”



Janna glanced at Meghan. “How much did they cost?”



“Forty-nine ninety-five,” said the woman standing there. Her tone was less than friendly.



Janna couldn’t hold back her gasp. “And you want her to pay three times that much?” Acid burned in the back of her throat. She stood and moved to the trashcan.



“Take a seat, Ms. Kauffman.” This officer meant business. She wondered what had become of the kind gentleman who’d help her gather her fallen orange and later load her buggy with groceries. This man looked the same, but his attitude and bearing were completely different.



Janna cast him a frantic look, then lost the contents of her stomach—and what was left of her pride.



Ms. Taft gagged.



“Eww, Aunt Janna. Gross!”



At least Meghan had generated a reply.



Blinking back tears, Janna wiped her mouth with her sleeve.



The officer stood, opened a miniature refrigerator, and produced a bottle of water. Her throat burned.



“Thank you.” She reached to accept the water from him.



When their hands touched, fire shot through her fingertips, and she glanced quickly at him. His blue eyes widened as they met hers, but his expression remained sympathetic. Maybe he was friendly after all, and not so scary. She set the garbage can outside the door and then approached his desk again.



“Now. Back to business.” The officer’s voice hardened, and he sat down, all traces of kindness gone. “As I was saying….” He repeated himself, with enough force to make Janna’s stomach churn again. No matter the punishment Daed would kum up with for Meghan, it couldn’t be harsh enough for forcing Janna through this torture.



Something the policeman said must have penetrated Meghan’s indifference. She flung a wad of cash on the desk. Her hands didn’t even shake.



Janna stared in disbelief at the bills. Sharon sent Meghan a monthly allowance, but with the way Meghan spent money, Janna hadn’t thought she’d have any money left.



The manager reached for the stack and flipped through it. Apparently satisfied with the amount, she slid it into her pocket. “Thank you, Officer,” she almost purred. Then, she turned to Janna and hissed, “If that thieving brat ever sets foot in my store again, you can be sure I’ll have her arrested.” She flipped her hair, spun on her heel, and stomped out of the office.



“Thank you for coming in, Ms. Kauffman.” The uniformed man rose to his feet. “You can go now. I’ll escort your niece back to school.”



Janna didn’t even try to force a smile. “Thank you, sir.” She turned to Meghan. “I expect you to kum straight home after school. We are going to have a talk.”



“What. Ever.” Meghan punctuated the words with a sneer. “You aren’t my mom.”



Her comment struck like a fist, knocking the air from Janna’s lungs. No, she wasn’t Meghan’s mom. But she had once been her favorite aunt. They’d been more like sisters, really, since they were only five years apart.



Janna glanced at the police officer on her way out. In light of the humiliation she had just suffered, she decided that if she never saw him again, it would be way too soon.



She also decided that, whatever Sharon’s reasons for sending Meghan to Seymour to live with her Amish relatives, they weren’t gut enough.

Scavenger Hunt/Giveaway: Margaret from Maine by Joseph Monninger

We are stop #5 on the MARGARET FROM MAINE Scavenger Hunt. If you haven’t read Parts I, II, III, or IV, visit those first. I promise you won’t want to miss how Margaret and Charlie met.

To read the previous installments, visit:
Part #1 ~ Melissa's Eclectic Bookshelf
Part #2 ~ Passionate Encounters
Part #3 ~ A Tale of Many Book Reviews
Part #4 ~ Reading Infection



Title: Margaret from Maine
Publisher: Plume (Penguin)
Release date: December 24, 2012
Age Group: Adult
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Barnes and Noble | Amazon | Sam’s Club | Indie Bound

The end of Maine Guardsman Sgt. Thomas Kennedy’s conscious life is ushered in by a flash of light on a plain in Afghanistan. While he languishes in a veterans’ hospital, Thomas’s devoted wife, Margaret, is raising their son on a dairy farm in rural Maine. She receives an invitation to Washington, DC, to meet the President of the United States as he signs a bill in support of wounded veterans with war veteran and West Point graduate Charlie King as her appointed escort. Charlie and Margaret’s shared circumstances inspire them to confide in one another. Suddenly, the pair creates a private world all their own, leaving the effects of war behind them. Margaret’s vows to her husband linger, raising a series of harrowing choice.


Scavenger Hunt
MARGARET FROM MAINE
Part #5
“So you grew up in Iowa?” she asked, partially to rid her- self of political thoughts. “I saw it on your bio sheet. You must have felt right at home on our farm this morning.”
“I grew up in farm country, but we weren’t farmers. My mom and dad are both teachers at the high school near Carroll. That’s in the center of the state. I had a pretty average upbringing.”
“And you got an appointment to West Point?”
“I did. I don’t want you to think I was some sort of born soldier, though. It was one of the best ways to pay for school. I would have done National Guard if I hadn’t received an appointment to West Point. I’m just cheap.”
“And you served . . . ?” “In Iraq.”
“I read that,” Margaret said. “Three tours. And is your brother still alive?”
He nodded.
“Yes, still. He has pretty good care. Ups and downs. You know how that is, I’m sure.”
He smiled. Margaret smiled back at him. For an instant, just an instant, she felt a ridiculous, nearly forgotten flirtatiousness rise up in her. How strange, she thought. How absurd and how ill timed. She would have given a great deal to have her friend Blake beside her, if for nothing except to verify that his gaze actually contained interest. Sexual interest. She felt her face flush and she became aware of her body, of his opposite maleness, of the pleasure of talking to a man. How long had it been? She could not say precisely. She did not even permit herself to think of it, to believe fully that such a thing was happening, but she could not dispute the warmth and attrac- tion of his eyes. She nearly blurted out her feeling because it came as such a surprise she could not take it seriously. She wondered if he felt the same thing. At any moment she imagined they would both burst out laughing, except his eyes remained on hers and in a pulse, maybe two, she understood that his interest was genuine.

Scavenger Hunt: To read the next part of the story, visit tomorrow Musings of a Blogder, Saturday, March 2nd. Each day of the tour will reveal the next installment of Margaret and Charlie’s story.

About the Author

Joseph Monninger is the author of Eternal on the Water and The World as We Know It, as well as several award-winning young-adult novels. A professor of English literature, he lives in New Hampshire. Visit him online at http://joemonninger.com
Social Media links:
Website: www.joemonninger.com
FB: www.facebook.com/joseph-monninger
Twitter: @joemonninger

To see the complete tour schedule, reviews, and Scavenger Hunt stops, click the tour banner below.


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