Publisher: Brenda Novak's Online Auction for Diabetes
Research
Release Date: May 1, 2015
Trina Crawford and Dean McKenzie grew up on neighboring
spreads in Dusk Falls, Wyoming. Best friends, they spent every Christmas Eve at
the annual Christmas party thrown by Dean’s wealthy parents. Part of the
tradition was the playing of Christmas carols by Trina on piano and Dean on
guitar. That tradition, along with the Crawfords presence at the party, ended when
Roy Crawford and Eugene McKenzie clashed over the ownership of a piece of land
at the boundary of their properties. Even feuding fathers could not stop Trina
and Dean’s friendship. Dean was there on the Christmas Eve when Trina’s mother
left Dusk Falls forever, leaving Trina with her silent, drunken father. Dean
understood Trina’s determination to escape Dusk Falls and her father. He too
had plans to leave the town and the father he could never please.
The ties of friendship stretched but never broke as Trina
left for college and law school and Dean studied land management in Laramie. If
they each dreamed that there was more than friendship between them, the time
never seemed right to speak of those dreams—not until as adults they found
themselves back in Dusk Falls. But their idyll and their friendship were
shattered by a double betrayal. It will take a Christmas Eve miracle of
forgiveness to bring true reunion and an HEA.
“Christmas Eve: A Love Story” is Molly O’Keefe’s
contribution to Sweet Talk, the limited
edition collection featuring ten new contemporary romances plus a foreword by
Robyn Carr and a bonus romance, When We
Touch, the story that introduced Brenda Novak’s popular Whiskey Creek
series. All proceeds from the sale of Sweet
Talk will be donated to the Diabetes Research Institute via Brenda Novak’s
Online Auction for Diabetes Research. In addition to “Christmas Eve,” the new
romance collection includes “Dreaming of Tomorrow” by Melody Anne, “Jackson” by
Violet Duke, “Promise My Love” by Melissa Foster, “Deadly Obsession” by Gina L.
Maxwell, “Interlude” by Linda Lael Miller, “Bayside Retreat” by Sherryl Woods,
“The Memory Journal” by Steena Holmes, “Just in Time” by Rosalind James, and
“Sand Dollar Cove” by Nancy Naigle.
I suspect that most readers will find the collection a mix of familiar and
new authors. That was certainly my experience. The sexy cowboy in Miller’s
story and the small-town appeal of Naigle’s offering reminded me why I have
enjoyed novels by these authors. “Bayside Retreat” is a new entry in Woods’s
beloved Chesapeake Shores series (to which I am addicted), and Molly O’Keefe
has been on my auto-buy list since I read my first novel be her. The other
authors are new to me.
Since O’Keefe is a favorite author and since I am an unabashed fan of
Christmas stories at any season and since reunion stories rank #1 on my list of
well-loved tropes, it is hardly surprising that I loved “Christmas Eve.” It is a combination of sweetness and
substance and characters so real the reader wants to give them a hug, qualities
that made O’Keefe’s Rita-winning Christmas novella “The Christmas Eve Promise”
(2009) a perennial Christmas reread for me. “Christmas Eve” alone would have
made Sweet Talk a recommended read,
but there are other delights within this set. And readers gain the satisfaction
of reading great stories and contributing to a worthy cause at the same time.
You can’t top that.
Brenda Novak's Online Auction for Diabetes Research also released two other
boxed sets on May 1: Sweet Dreams
(thirteen new thrillers) for those who love romantic suspense and Sweet Seduction (thirteen new erotic
romances) for those who prefer the sizzle factor at the highest setting.
The Hellions of High Street: Scandalously Yours, Sinfully
Yours, Passionately Yours
By Cara Elliott
Publisher: Forever
Release Date: March 31 (Book 1), April 28 (Book 2), May 26
(Book 3)
Cara Elliott’s Hellions of High Street series was released
in digital editions last year. This spring saw back-to-back print editions of
the trilogy released. The trilogy focuses on the Sloane sisters—Olivia, a
political writer; Anna, author of adventurous, erotic romance novels; and
Carolina, a poet. Daughters of the late Baron Trumbull, an eccentric scholar
whose specialty was primitive cultures and their rituals, the sisters have
received an unconventional education that includes not only instruction that
equals that of males of their class but also training in self-defense and sex
education. Their father’s death has left them in genteel poverty, and their
mother, as conventional as their father was unconventional, is unwaveringly
focused on seeing her daughters married to wealthy aristocrats, the higher the
title, the better. Although the sisters are definitely individuals, they are
all highly intelligent and high spirited. Olivia acknowledges that “Neither
spirit nor imagination is anything the three of us lack. . . . It is restraint
over our creative impulses that we all might exercise a little more often.”
Scandalously Yours
is the story of Olivia, the eldest sister, and John,
Earl of Wrexham, a widower with a ten-year-old son, and a former military officer
whose courage and strategy earned him the sobriquet “the perfect hero.” The
least conventional of the sisters, Olivia makes little effort to conform to her
mother’s ideas of a proper lady, frequently declaring her disinterest in
marrying well—or, indeed, marrying at all. Her indifference to society’s rules
leads to her being labeled “the Hellion of High Street,” but even her
detractors would be shocked if they knew Olivia’s secret identity as “the
Beacon,” the anonymous author whose newspaper column argues eloquently for
radical social reform.
Wrexham, with his
military service behind him, has taken his seat in the House of Lords and is
looking forward to using his influence to see reform legislation passed,
particularly policy changes that will benefit veterans of the Napoleonic Wars,
many of whom are jobless and poor. He knows that the proper wife will be an
asset in his political life, and he also believes that Prescott, his young son,
will benefit from a mother’s presence. He thinks he may have found the ideal
candidate for his next countess in the person of Lady Serena Wells, a proper
lady so rigid in her rule-bound life that Scottie and his best friend Lucy, the
daughter of a local innkeeper, refer to her as “the Steel Corset.”
Wrexam and Olivia are
intrigued by one another from their first meeting in a darkened library, but he
tells himself she is far too unconventional for him. And Olivia is convinced
that he is a stuffy gentleman determined to relegate women to their designated
place. It is only after Wrexham discovers she is “The Beacon” and the two work
together on his maiden speech in Parliament that they realize how much they
have in common and how strong the attraction between them is. Even then, it
takes a kidnapping and a daring rescue in which Olivia proves herself a hero’s
equal in derring-do before they admit that the hellion is a perfect match for
this perfect hero.
Olivia truly is an unconventional heroine, one with the
courage of her convictions, and Wrexham, despite his stuffiness, proves to be a
wonderful hero with admirable ideals, a genuine love for his son, and a subtle
sense of humor. In addition to these engaging leads, Scottie and Lucy are the
kind of child characters that make a reader long to see what kind of adults
they turn out to be, and Olivia’s sisters emerge as appealing characters in
their own right.
Sinfully
Yours is the story of Anna,
the middle Sloane sister, and Devlin Greville, the Marquess of Davenport, a
delicious rake who harbors secrets. Anna is the beauty of the family and the
one who has at least superficially most conformed to her mother’s expectations.
She had accepted that she would marry well to save her family from poverty, but
Olivia’s marriage to the wealthy Earl of Wrexham frees Anna from the need to
marry one of her mother-approved suitors. Like her older sister, Anna has a
secret identity. As Sir Sharpe Quill, she pens bawdy novels of adventure and
romance featuring daring English orphan Emmaline Smythe and the
equal-to-all-tasks Count Alessandro Crispini, but her elusive muse is making it
difficult to meet her current deadline. So when her mother pushes her to attend
a country house party at a remote castle in Scotland where the guests include a
German prince whom Lady Trumbull covets as a son-in-law, Anna hopes the change
of scenery will stir her imagination and help her to forget a certain infernal
aristocrat.
The Marquess of Davenport, known as Devil Davenport for his
dissolute lifestyle and disregard of others’ opinion of him, is also a guest.
Anna and Davenport strike sparks off one another each time they meet, and a
surprising kiss exchanged at a ball has haunted them both. He is at the house
party on a covert mission for the Foreign Office who has reason to believe that
the German prince may be the target of an assassin’s plot, but he also hopes it
will be an opportunity for him to stop obsessing about Anna Sloane. He is
astounded when Anna shows up at the castle. At first, Davenport wonders if Anna
is part of the plot on the prince and Anna believes he may be a thief. But once
their secrets are revealed, they work together to thwart a conspiracy that
threatens not only the amiable prince but also England’s international
alliances.
Anna is a mix of naïveté and a store of knowledge rare in a
young woman of her class, and Davenport is a rake with contradictory layers.
Watching them move from wariness to trust to love is a treat. Caro, the
youngest Sloane, is now officially out in society, and she and Alec McClellan,
a surly Scottish baron with republican convictions have their own barbed bouts.
This second novel is a blend of adventure and romance that more than rivals the
fictional deeds of Emmaline and her count.
Passionately Yours features Carolina Sloane,
the youngest Sloane sister, and Alec McClellan, Lord Strathcona,
the baron with whom Caro exchanged barbs in Scotland. The two meet again when
Caro and her new friend Isobel Urquehart are attacked by brigands in Bath.
Although Caro puts up a strong fight and leaves one of their abductors
squealing in soprano tones, she is no match for the number of men in group
threatening her and Isobel. Fortunately a rescuer shows up. Unfortunately, at
least from Caro’s perspective, the rescuer is Alec McClellan,
half-brother of Isobel.
Alec, who is wary of women—particularly English beauties
after an unfortunate marriage to one such young woman—is not at all pleased
that his sister and Caro are friends. He is also concerned about the safety of
his family because he and some of his radical friends parted company when Alec
disagreed with their methods. He is irritated by his reluctant fascination with
Caro.
As Alec and Caro see more of one another, they continue to
strike sparks amid their verbal jousting, but they also discover they have more
in common than either suspected. Caro proves sympathetic to the injustices
Scotland has suffered, and Alec’s appreciation of poetry delights aspiring poet
Caro. But Alec is slow to trust, and a former friend of Alec’s turns out to be
a smiling villain who fans Caro’s suspicion of Alec. It is not until danger
once more threatens Caro and Alec again takes on the role of rescuer that these
stubborn lovers find their HEA. The secondary romance charmed my beta-loving
heart.
If you like historical romance with
intelligent, headstrong heroines and sigh-worthy heroes involved in plots that
mix danger, political intrigue, and romance, I definitely recommend Cara
Elliott’s Hellions of High Street. The books also contain a rich vein of humor.Scandalously
Yours is my favorite of the three, but Elliot is a superb writer and the
full trilogy is an investment that pays off with memorable characters and
satisfying stories.
~Janga Have you read any of Cara Elliott's books? Do you enjoy a bluestocking heroine? Are you a fan of books that have a mix of political intrigue, danger and romance? In addition to the Rafflecopter giveaway below, one randomly chosen person who leaves a comment on today's post will receive a print copy of Passionately Yours by Cara Elliott. (US/Canada only)
It
wasn’t his place to ask. He reminded himself of that as he closed the door and
followed her. She’d swept straight through into the living room. As he ducked
beneath the archway, he saw her pause by the table, inspecting his endeavors.
She turned as he crossed the room toward her.
She
was petite while he stood over six feet tall; her head barely reached his
shoulder.
Rather
than tower over her, he waved her to the pair of armchairs that faced each
other across the wide hearth. He sensed rather than saw her approval of the
courtesy as she walked on and, with a swish of her heavy skirts, sat.
He
followed and sat in the other armchair. His gaze on her face, he tried to
imagine what she was doing there—why, after all these months of no contact,
she’d sought him out. When she volunteered nothing, just studied him, as if
trying to imagine his likely reaction to some request, he said, “I would offer
you some refreshment, but my housekeeper and majordomo have gone shopping. I
don’t think you’d appreciate my efforts at making tea.”
She
blinked, slowly, and he saw her absorb the information that she was alone with
him in the house. If this was a social call…
Definitely
not a social call, then. Her big blue eyes still measuring him, she caught her
lower lip between her teeth—something he’d noticed she did when uncertain, or
cogitating about something that bothered her. Him? Or what had brought her
there?
He
sat back, attempting to look as unthreatening—as encouraging—as he could. “So,
how can I help you?”
Now
she was there, face to face with him, Niniver had second and even third
thoughts about the wisdom of her course, but she still needed help. She
desperately needed a champion, and there he sat, the perfect man for the task.
With
his black locks—not true blue-black but black with an underlying hint of red,
the very deepest mahogany—framing his face, one dark lock falling rakishly over
his broad forehead, sitting as he was, relaxed and at his ease, his
long-fingered hands elegantly disposed on the chair’s arms, his muscled
horseman’s thighs, long, buckskin-clad legs, and top-booted feet arranged in an
innately graceful pose, he should have appeared no more dangerous than any
London dandy. Instead, a tangible aura that seethed with restrained power,
edged with menace, emanated from him.
As
a deterrent to her importuning suitors, she couldn’t imagine finding better.
Squelching
all caution, she met his dark blue gaze—a midnight blue so dark it was
difficult if not impossible to guess his thoughts. “Remember that promise you
made to me up at the lookout?”
He
blinked, dense black lashes briefly screening his eyes before they rose again, and
he pinned her with his gaze. “That if you needed help, you could count on
me—that you only needed to ask?”
She
nodded—once, decisively. “Yes. That.” She paused to marshal her words. “I need
help with a particular problem, and I think—I believe—that you are the most
appropriate person to ask for assistance—the person most likely to be able to
help me resolve the issue.”
He
was now considering her exactly as she’d previously considered him. “And your
particular problem is?”
“Men.”
The word slipped out before she’d thought. She grimaced and forged on,
“Specific men—namely men of the clan who assume I must be looking for a
husband, and who are putting themselves forward overenthusiastically.” She
couldn’t hide her irritation; it underscored her tone.
To
her surprise, Marcus…stilled. There was no other word for it. His gaze remained
on her—he was still looking at her—yet she got the distinct impression he was
seeing something else. That he was viewing something beyond her.
He
barely seemed to breathe.
But
then he blinked, and he seemed to draw back, pull back. He hesitated, then
asked, “How…enthusiastic have they been?”
His
voice had lowered, deepened. For an instant, she wondered if she was doing the
right thing in setting him on her poor unsuspecting clansmen. Then she
remembered the scene in the stable yard. She tipped up her chin. “I suppose you
could say that, each in their own way, they’ve been trying to woo me, but they
keep tripping over each other, and then they clash. But even worse, they egg
each other on to ever more ridiculous exploits, ones that are harder and harder
for me to…avoid.”
Put
into words, the situation didn’t sound that bad, but to her, it was seriously
bothersome, and more worrying than she could easily convey. “I know it sounds
silly, but I have a position within the clan to maintain, and with matters as
fraught as they are at the moment, having to deal with idiotic behavior
directed toward me personally, behavior that tends to—well, belittle
me—is distracting, disturbing, and sometimes unnerving. On top of that, some of
the men involved are sons of clan elders, and that adds a certain political
constraint to how blatantly I can repel their advances.” She blew out a breath.
“I need someone who will simply step in and tell them all to stop. Someone they’ll listen
to—because not one of them pays a posset’s worth of attention to me.”
#1 New York Times bestselling author Stephanie Laurens began writing romances as an escape from the dry world of professional science. Her hobby quickly became a career when her first novel was accepted for publication, and with entirely becoming alacrity, she gave up writing about facts in favor of writing fiction.
Laurens's novels are set in the time period of the British Regency, and her settings range from Scotland to India. Laurens has published fifty-three works of historical romance, including 31 New York Times bestsellers. All her works are continuously available in print and digital formats in English worldwide, and have been translated into many other languages. An international bestseller, among other accolades Laurens has received the Romance Writers of America prestigious RITA Award for Best Romance Novella 2008, for The Fall of Rogue Gerrard. A Match for Marcus Cynster continues Laurens' popular series of books revolving around the Cynster family.
Duty compels her to turn her back on marriage. Fate drives him to protect her come what may. Then love takes a hand in this battle of yearning hearts, stubborn wills, and a match too powerful to deny.
#1 New York Times bestselling author Stephanie Laurens returns to rugged Scotland with a dramatic tale of passionate desire and unwavering devotion.
Restless and impatient, Marcus Cynster waits for Fate to come calling. He knows his destiny lies in the lands surrounding his family home, but what will his future be? Equally importantly, with whom will he share it?
Of one fact he feels certain: his fated bride will not be Niniver Carrick. His elusive neighbor attracts him mightily, yet he feels compelled to protect her—even from himself. Fickle Fate, he’s sure, would never be so kind as to decree that Niniver should be his. The best he can do for them both is to avoid her.
Niniver has vowed to return her clan to prosperity. The epitome of fragile femininity, her delicate and ethereal exterior cloaks a stubborn will and an unflinching devotion to the people in her care. She accepts that in order to achieve her goal, she cannot risk marrying and losing her grip on the clan’s reins to an inevitably controlling husband. Unfortunately, many local men see her as their opportunity.
Soon, she’s forced to seek help to get rid of her unwelcome suitors. Powerful and dangerous, Marcus Cynster is perfect for the task. Suppressing her wariness over tangling with a gentleman who so excites her passions, she appeals to him for assistance with her peculiar problem.
Although at first he resists, Marcus discovers that, contrary to his expectations, his fated role is to stand by Niniver’s side and, ultimately, to claim her hand. Yet in order to convince her to be his bride, they must plunge headlong into a journey full of challenges, unforeseen dangers, passion, and yearning, until Niniver grasps the essential truth—that she is indeed a match for Marcus Cynster.
I first discovered Debbie Mason through her historical paranormal romances (written as Debbie Mazzuca) and followed her to contemporary romance when she launched her Christmas, Colorado series. I have fallen in love with the small mountain town of Christmas, it's quirky characters and heartwarming stories. Today is the release day for the fourth book in the series, Wedding Bells in Christmas and brings us the story of Vivi Westfield and Chance McBride, characters readers have met in earlier books in the series. (This book stands on its own though I think reading the series in order will give you a richer reading experience. The first three books are currently available in a Christmas, Colorado e-book collection for only $3.99.) With Vivi and Chance, Mason once again brings us an emotional journey with sizzle, some humor, and an edgy thread of suspense. I thoroughly enjoyed their story and am already looking forward to my next visit with the people of Christmas. Here's a sneak-peek excerpt from Wedding Bells in Christmas.
Excerpt
His
eyes narrowed, and he let go of her hand. “You buy your own ticket?”
“My
plane ticket?”
He
nodded.
“No,
if I did, I wouldn’t be sitting in first class.” She didn’t add “beside you.”
Her eyes widened as she realized why he’d ask. “Did you buy yours?”
“No,”
he clipped out.
She
pressed her fingers to her temple. So this was what Skye had been talking
about. Nell’s plan had nothing to do with getting Vivi to move to Christmas.
She was up to her matchmaking tricks again. Vivi drowned out the little voice in
her head that cheered Nell on with a forced laugh. “Your aunt is deluded if she
thinks she can get us together.”
“I know that and you know that, but it won’t matter
what we say.”
His answer wasn’t a surprise. She knew how he felt
about her, but to hear him so casually dismiss any chance . . . Good God, she
really wasn’t over him, was she?
Obviously the twinge of pain in the vicinity of her heart
was reflected in her face, because he patted her thigh. “Don’t worry about it.
I’ll figure something out.”
“Good luck with that. She’s three for three. The
woman thinks she’s . . .” She trailed off as the flight attendant began the
safety briefing.
“Three for three? Who—”
She held up a hand and retrieved the illustrated
card from the pouch in front of her. She caught the amused expression on
Chance’s face as he watched her. She ignored him, focusing instead on the
flight attendant. When the woman turned to the person in the emergency exit
seat, Vivi raised herself up as much as the seat belt allowed. “There is no way
that guy will be able to throw the door.” She cast a sidelong and slightly
covetous glance at Chance’s corded forearms and bulging biceps. “You should
change seats with him.”
“Slick, we’re not going to crash. If you want to
worry about something, worry about Nell and what she has planned for us.”
Vivi dragged her gaze from his amazing biceps to . .
. dammit,
his equally amazing face. His eyebrows raised at what she belatedly realized
had been her very thorough perusal of all his amazingness. Her face, along with
a certain body part—one that had been piteously ignored for the last eighteen
months—got warm and tingly. She fanned herself with the informational card,
then realized what she was doing. She stuffed it back in the pouch. “Leave Nell
to me. I’ll talk to her and set her straight,” she said with perhaps more
feeling than was warranted.
“Trust
me, I know my aunt better than you do, and trying to reason with her will do as
much good as waving a red flag in front of a bull.”
“So
what do you suggest we do?”
“Simple.
We’ll tell her we’re together, and she’ll leave us alone.”
Her
and Chance . . . together. It was like her fantasy come true. Only it wasn’t.
She cleared what she imagined was a look of longing and hope from her face.
“Are you crazy?”
“No.
Think about it. If we don’t cut her off at the pass, she’ll drive us nuts. She
won’t let up, and she’ll get her buddies in on the action. What’s the big deal?
It’s only for a week. And it’s not as if anyone will expect us to spend much
time together. I’ll be busy with my dad’s wedding.”
Vivi
didn’t think Nell and Christmas’s matchmakers were that big a problem. Sure,
they’d be annoying and no doubt drive them slightly insane. But pretending to
be Chance’s girlfriend? That would be a problem. All those soft, romantic
feelings would come back to bite her in the butt. She opened her mouth to . . .
What? If she didn’t agree to his plan, he’d wonder why. He obviously had no
qualms about pretending to be in love with her. She felt like bonking her head
on the seat in front of her, but instead said, “Okay, fine. We’ll pretend we’re
dating. But we end our fake relationship before we head out of town. Publicly.
And this time, I’m the one who does the ending.” Good God, did she just say that?
It was exactly what she wanted to do, but she didn’t mean to tell him! And
she’d been doing so well playing it cool up until now.
He
rubbed his jaw, then looked at her. And that’s when she saw it—pity. He felt
sorry for her. “Vivi, I never meant to hurt you. I—”
“Hurt
me? Whatever gave you that idea? Come on, it’s not like we had a relationship
or anything. We had some laughs together, good times in bed, and—”
His
brow lifted. “Good times in bed?”
Typical. Of course he’d
hone in on that. Did he actually expect her to stroke his ego after he’d lied
to her and left her without an explanation? As if she were going to tell him he
was a sex god and had ruined her for mere mortal men.
“Yeah,
good times. It was fun while it
lasted. But I knew what I was getting myself into. I might not have known your
real name, but it was obvious you were a player.”
“I
am not a player.”
“Right.
And your name’s James Harris.”
“Look,
I couldn’t risk blowing my cover. My assignment was dangerous. I didn’t want
you to get—”
“It
doesn’t matter. No harm, no foul. I’ll go along with your plan.”
His
eyes roamed her face, then he nodded. “If it’ll make you feel better, you can
break up with me in front of the whole damn town for all I care.”
“Consider
it a public service for the trail of broken hearts you’ve left in your wake.”
“You
saying I broke your heart, Slick?” His voice was low and gruff, an unreadable
emotion in his eyes.
“Get
over yourself, McBride. I already told you . . .”
Vivi
eyes widened as the 757 started to shake. She dug her fingernails into the
armrest. Oh, God, oh, God. When the plane
took a stomach-turning drop, she screamed, throwing herself into the arms of
the man she wanted to smack only a few seconds ago. “Do something! You—”
He
sighed, lowering his head to smother her panicked cries with
a deep, soul-searing kiss. Are you reading Debbie Mason's Christmas, Colorado series? Tell me what you like about small-town romances. Do you enjoy a bit of suspense with your contemporary romance? Vivi and Chance are the latest targets of the Christmas matchmakers. Have you ever done any matchmaking? Been the target of matchmakers? How did things turn out? One randomly chosen person who leaves a comment on today's post will receive a print copy of WEDDING BELLS IN CHRISTMAS. (US/Canada only)
To have and to hold from this day forward Wedding bells are ringing in the charming town of Christmas, but not for Vivian Westfield. She's just had her heart trampled under the cowboy boots of Chance McBride and lost her dream job at a big-city newspaper. But when she returns for a wedding, she stumbles on a story that could resurrect her career. First, though, she'll have to deal with the handsome man standing in her way . . . and a still-burning flame that's too hot to ignore.
Chance recognizes trouble when he sees it. He just didn't expect to find it in the first-class cabin on the flight home for his father's wedding. Yet there she is, as gorgeous as ever. Vivi dared Chance to want things he knew he could never have. It's why he left her. But Christmas's meddling matchmakers have them firmly in their sights. So if they want to survive the next week, they'll have to play the part of an adoring couple-an irresistible charade that may give them a second chance at the real thing . . .
Debbie Mason is the bestselling author of the Christmas, Colorado series. Her books have been praised for their "likable characters, clever dialogue and juicy plots" (RT Book Reviews). She also writes historical paranormals as Debbie Mazzuca. Her MacLeod series has received several nominations for best paranormal as well as a Holt Medallion Award of Merit. When she isn't writing or reading, Debbie enjoys spending time with her very own real-life hero, their four wonderful children, an adorable grandbaby, and a yappy Yorkie named Bella.
Liv Chandler is running for her life, and the cops haven’t been able to do a
thing to help. But there’s one man who makes her feel safe, no matter
what…rugged charter boat captain Rafe Brodie.
To Rafe, Liv is a beautiful mystery, one he can’t ignore. He means to unearth
her secrets, and in the process, if luck is on his side, maybe the spark
between them will ignite.
But Liv’s past is more dangerous than Rafe could guess, and when his first mate
turns up dead, she fears that she’s next. That there’s something else coming
she can’t see. That even Rafe and the remote village of Valdez, Alaska can’t
protect her forever…
Valdez, Alaska
The piercing ring of the cell phone lying on his nightstand
didn’t bode well. There was no such
thing as good news at three o’clock
in the morning.
With a sigh, Rafe rolled over and grabbed the phone,
scrubbed a hand over his face as he pressed it against his ear. “Brodie.”
“Police Chief Rosen here.
We’ve got a problem, Rafe, and it’s not a good one. I need you to meet me down at the
harbor. How soon can you get here?”
Rafe swung his long legs to the side of the bed and sat
up. “Ten minutes. What’s this about, Chief?”
“It’s Scotty Ferris, Rafe.
I’m afraid he’s dead. I’ll fill
you in when you get here. I’ll be
waiting on the dock next to the Scorpion.” The police chief hung up the phone.
For several long moments, Rafe just sat there. His chest felt tight. Scotty Ferris was twenty-four years old, a
handsome, hard-working kid who was engaged to be married. His June wedding to Cassie Webster, one of
the local girls, was only three weeks away.
Cassie was going to be crushed.
Rafe swore softly.
What the hell could have happened?
But in this rugged country where the climate, wild animals,
or just bad judgment could get you killed, accidents happened all the time.
Shoving himself up from the bed, Rafe grabbed a pair of worn
jeans off the chair and jerked them on, pulled a sweatshirt over his head,
pulled on his heavy sox, and shoved his size-thirteen feet into a pair of
high-topped, rubber-soled boots. Since the
temperature at night even in late May was still in the thirties and it had
rained during the night, he grabbed his jacket as he headed for the steps down
to the garage.
The boat harbor wasn’t far from his house. Sea Scorpion
was his flagship charter fishing boat, a thirty-eight-foot Mac, his pride and
joy. It was the boat he usually
captained himself, one of three that made up his fleet. Scotty Ferris was part of Scorpion’s crew.
Rafe thought of the young man as he parked his dark green
Ford Expedition in a spot in front of the harbor, climbed out, and closed the
door. Puddles from last night’s rain
sloshed against his boots as he made his way toward the dock. The occasional street light burned into the
darkness but quiet surrounded him, along with the familiar salty tang of the
sea.
Rafe couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
Which brought his thoughts full-circle to Scotty. With year-round residents numbering less that
forty-five hundred, everyone knew everyone who lived there. And everyone knew and liked Scotty. The kid had been born in Valdez.
He thrived on the rugged lifestyle, planned to marry and raise kids
here, probably never would have left.
What the hell had happened? Rafe thought again as he walked
toward his boat.
And why did Chief Rosen want to meet him at the Scorpion?
A few spaces down from where'd he parked, Rafe spotted a
black-and-silver Ford police SUV. In the
distance, the familiar antenna above the wheelhouse of the Scorpion marked where the boat bobbed near the middle of the
dock.
Rafe started down the long wooden walkway, his gaze on the
group of people gathered next to where the Scorpion
was moored. The area was cordoned off
with yellow crime scene tape, the boat clearly off limits until the police were
finished collecting evidence.
Police Chief Clifford Rosen, a stout man in his fifties,
bald head ringed by thinning gray hair, stood next to a figure lying on the
dock, covered by a long white cloth.
Knowing Scotty Ferris lay under the cloth made Rafe’s stomach burn.
“What happened?” he asked the chief.
“Looks like he was robbed,” Rosen answered. “Wallet’s missing, jewelry’s gone. Car keys.
Cell phone’s missing. Single blow
to the back of the head. Blunt
instrument. Baseball bat seems the most
likely, something that size that was easy to handle.”
“Jesus.”
“I asked you to come down because I need someone to identify
the body. With his parents both dead, I
figured better you than his fiancée.
Soon as you do that, I’ll break the news to the Webster girl.”
Rafe just nodded.
Cassie was going to be devastated.
She and Scotty were crazy in love, the kind Rafe figured had a good
chance of lasting. Sometimes fate could
be a real bastard.
One of the officers, a red-haired young cop Rafe recognized
as Rusty Donovan, leaned down and lifted the edge of the sheet. As the cover rolled back, Rafe’s gaze fixed
on Scotty. The boy’s brown eyes were
open, staring sightlessly into the black night sky. His handsome face was frozen in a look of
surprise.
He was wearing a jacket but it was unzipped, revealing a
long-sleeved blue T-shirt that read FISHERMEN DO IT DEEPER. Rafe could almost see the grin on the kid’s
face when he’d put it on.
“It’s him,” he said darkly.
“Scott Ferris.”
“You know what he was doing down here?”
“No.”
But once he got his head wrapped around Scotty’s death, he
intended to find out.
The breakfast crowd at the Pelican Café had begun to arrive,
as people did every morning when it opened at six A.M. The café
had been started in the fifties and been going strong every since. Of course it had passed through a dozen
different owners, had its ups and downs, and been near financial ruin more than
once.
Having purchased the restaurant six months ago, Olivia
Chandler was the most recent person to step into the driver’s seat. Unlike the previous owner, who had let the
place sink into disrepair, Olivia had been making changes, most of which had
been heralded with great enthusiasm by the local customers.
“Well, look who’s coming,” Nell said. The buxom woman with salt-and-pepper hair
helped her run the café. “If it isn’t
Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome."
Liv followed her gaze out the window to the man in jeans and
a sweatshirt crossing the outside patio.
The brick patio was empty now while it was still cold, but with summer
approaching, soon would be noisy with people.
Katie walked past just then, heading for a table with a
platter of bacon and eggs on the flat of her hand. “I just call him Mr. Freakin’ Hot.”
“Shame on you,” Liv teased.
“You just turned twenty one. Rafe
Brodie’s got to be at least a dozen years older.”
“Just means he’s a man not a boy. And I like a guy with a little experience.”
“From what I hear, he has plenty of that,” Liv said dryly as
Katie sailed off to deliver the food.
Nell chuckled. “I’m
fifty years old and that man can still make me swoon.”
Olivia busied herself wiping off the long Formica-topped
counter as Rafe shoved through the door, ringing the bell above. Seating himself in his usual booth, he
stretched his long legs out in front of him.
Rafe was a regular in the café, which sat on North Harbor Road right across from the
boat dock.
“Katie’s busy,” Nell said with a match-making glint in her
eyes. “Why don’t you wait on him?”
Olivia shook her head.
“I’m busy, too. You go ahead.”
Knowing there was no persuading her, Nell sighed. “Probably better you don’t. Everyone in town knows Rafe’s a dedicated
bachelor.”
Dedicated bachelor or not, Nell and Katie were right. With the thick dark brown hair curling just
over his collar, the faint shadow of beard that usually lined his hard jaw, and
those hot, whiskey-brown eyes, he was one of the best-looking men Olivia had
ever seen.
Which was exactly the reason she had avoided him since the
day she had met him.
No use putting temptation in her path. It was simply too dangerous.
She watched as Nell chatted with him a moment, then the easy
smile Nell usually gave him slipped from her face. The coffee pot wavered. Rafe grabbed the glass pot to keep her from
dropping it and spilled hot coffee over his hand.
Olivia didn’t hesitate, just grabbed a towel, wet it with
cold water, and hurried in Rafe's direction.
He was sitting down again, Nell fussing over him, relieved to see Olivia
approaching.
“Here--wrap this around your fingers.” Liv handed him the wet towel. “It’s cold enough to ease the pain and keep
the burn from getting worse.”
“I’m all right,” Rafe said.
“It’s no big deal.” But he
accepted the wet cloth and looped it over the back of a big suntanned
hand.
The man was all of six-four, two-hundred-plus pounds, with a
solid, athletic build and very wide shoulders.
Liv was five-nine, but Rafe was more than half a head taller. She tried not to stare at his mouth, which
seemed harder this morning, without the smile he always had for Nell.
She glanced in her friend’s direction, sucked in a breath as
Nell’s pale blue eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, God, what is it?”
Nell blinked and the tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped at the wetness with a trembling
hand. “I could tell something was
wrong. It was stamped all over Rafe’s
face.”
Liv glanced from one of them to the other, saw the same grim
expression on both of their faces. “Tell
me what’s happened.”
Nell swallowed.
“It’s...it’s Scotty. He was murdered
last night.”
Liv glanced across the table at Rafe. His jaw looked iron-hard, his eyes so dark
she could barely see a hint of gold. For
the first time it occurred to her that Rafe was hurting, too. Scotty was his first mate and they were
friends. Cassie had said Scott idolized
Rafe, had thought of him as an older brother.
His dark eyes to her face.
“Scott was a good man. One of the
best. Whoever killed him is going to
pay.”
A little shiver ran through her. It wasn’t a statement. It was a vow.
New York Times
bestselling author Kat Martin is a graduate of the University
of California at Santa Barbara where she majored in
Anthropology and also studied History. She is married to L.J. Martin,
author of western, non-fiction, and suspense novels.
Kat
has written more than sixty-five novels.
Sixteen million copies of her books are in print and she has been
published in twenty foreign countries, including Japan,
France, Germany, Argentina,
Greece, China, Russia,
and Spain.
Born
in Bakersfield, California,
Kat currently resides in Missoula,
Montana, on a small ranch in the
beautiful Sapphire mountains.
Her
last eleven books have hit the prestigious New York Times bestseller list. Both AGAINST THE WILD and AGAINST THE SKY,
her latest release, took top ten spots. AGAINST
THE TIDE the 3rd book in the Brodies of Alaska series will hit
shelves in a couple weeks!