Book Blitz + Giveaway - Losing Track (Living Heartwood, #2) by Trisha Wolfe

Losing Track (LivingHeartwood #2) by Trisha Wolfe 

Release Date: 10/15/14

Summary from Goodreads:

Sometimes you have to lose your way before finding the right track.

The roar of a bike engine. The vibration between her thighs. The feel of cool darkness kissing her skin as she coasts along twisty back roads at night—Melody Lachlan lives for these things. Ever since Mel and her best friend Darla escaped their small, backwoods town, they’ve traveled the countryside in search of fast rides, tatted bikers, and good times.


A self-proclaimed poet and lover of all things free, Mel views her life as one long bike ride—with pit stops along the way to numb the pain. But she never saw herself as a junkie. Party as hard as you ride. That’s her motto…until a tragic night steals her soul. Then she’s forced to delve below the surface, to where her demons rage.


When she meets recovered drug addict Boone Randall, she’s more likely to deck him than kiss his dimple-adorable face. She doesn’t want his help; doesn’t want to own up to her part in that night. She just wants to do her time and keep her promise to her friend. Yet Boone challenges Mel, and soon she doesn’t mind sharing the road. Only when Boone’s own secret demons threaten their newfound, fragile security, Mel’s course becomes rocky, and she must decide if letting her well-worn track marks fade is worth finding a new path. 


Told from Dual point of view from Melody and Boone, this is a New Adult

Contemporary Romance intended for readers seventeen years of age and older.

 




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Companion to:

The Darkest Part (Living Heartwood )

by Trisha Wolfe

Release Date: 08/06/13

Summary from Goodreads:


Pressing the boundaries of both the psyche and the heart, Sam and Holden embark on a dangerous journey that will test the limits of love.

Sam Wintry’s life used to be almost perfect. She was engaged to her childhood best friend and high school sweetheart, Tyler Marks, planning an amazing cross-country honeymoon during her college break. But after a hit-and-run leaves her in ruin, she begins seeing Tyler’s fractured, ghostly presence, and her family believes she’s losing her mind. Not until she completes their journey, stopping along the way to scatter Tyler's remains, will Tyler be able cross over. Only...is Sam ready for him to leave her?

When the black sheep of the Marks' family, Holden Marks, returns to check on Tyler's case, Sam convinces him to give her his brother's ashes. Despite their shaky history, she needs him...plus, he owes it to Sam and his brother. What she doesn’t count on is Holden’s relentlessness to go on the trip.

On the road, Holden realizes just how unhinged Sam has become. Dealing with her psychosis forces him to confront his dark past, making it harder to keep secrets hidden that should remain buried. Especially from Sam, the only woman he’s ever loved. And as Sam starts to unravel the truth, she begins to question if the brother she's unwillingly falling for again is in an even darker place than her.

New Adult Contemporary coming this year.

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Excerpt:

Boone 

The look she’s giving me nearly does me in, though. Almost makes me say fuck it and grab her, just to end the torment. I’m a livewire, strung taut and snapping, dying to press her body against mine. Just to get some relief.

Then, “You’ll never face a harder challenge.” Her words sink into me, to the marrow. She releases me from her penetrating gaze, and says over her shoulder as she begins to swim away, “Let’s leave it at that.”

And she’s right. Again. I don’t need this shit. I was wrong that first night when I approached her, when I let her gravity pull me in. I’m sure there’s a plethora of guys in orbit out there now, who she keeps all at bay. Waiting for the second she crooks her finger at them.

I have to admit, when I first saw her, I was tempted by that pouty mouth. The big dark eyes, gorgeous against her creamy skin. Layers of burgundy and black hair swept up into a messy pony tail, brushing her soft shoulders. Petite, tight body with curves in all the right places…begging to be explored. She looked so mouthwateringly untouchable. Tough as nails yet soft and tender.

But it was more than that. She sung, over the crowd, over the chaos, her pain. She wears it like a shield of impenetrable armor. Literally has it tattooed on her body. It called out, whether it wanted to be heard or not, recognized or not, and my pain answered in reply. Physical attraction; anyone can feel it. Anyone can act on it. But that soul deep cry—that raw harmony that plays on a frequency too low to hear—that’s what caught my attention. Ensnared me.

Only I was too oblivious at first to acknowledge it for what it was.

There wouldn’t be any escape with this girl. Not the kind I’m craving.

“Get your ass out, guy,” she shouts from the bank. “Hustle up. I have to get back before I’m assumed AWOL.”

Then there’s that: messing around with a user. It’d be safer for me to stick my hand right into a fire. Because this proverbial one is going to hurt a lot more.

That thought helps the rock hard boner tenting my boxers to wilt, and I can move out of the water. But dammit, as soon as I’m solid in my choice, mentally berating myself for almost getting mixed up with another user…she bends over to grab her pants.

She’s wearing these cream and pink, half ass cheek covering things. Not thongs—I know what to call those. But they’re sexy as hell. Lace trims enough of her round ass to hide most of it, but reveals all the sexiness. And I can’t help myself; I stare. Stare hard.

I can just glimpse the shape of her lips through the material. Imagine her clit…wet from the water…slippery and warm.

My cock starts to throb painfully. Fuck. I’m headed right back to the water when she outs me. “Damn, baby. Is that for me?” She winks, a playful smile pulling at her mouth, and my face heats.

I am a fucking glutton for punishment. Any other girl would have been a safer choice.

I run a hand through my hair, purposely avoiding looking down at my dick. “I’m a man, not a saint.”

A sly half-smile sneaks onto her face. “Well, it’s about time.”

About the Author

I’m the author of the YA Steampunk DESTINY'S FIRE (Omnific Publishing), ASTARTE'S WRATH NA Historical/Supernatural, and the upcoming YA Utopian FIREBLOOD from Spencer Hill Press, October 2013. My NA Dark Fantasy OF SILVER AND BEASTS available May 2013.

I’m the creator of YA Bound, a promotional site for the Young Adult genre. Also a member of SCWW and The Apocalypsies.

A proud business owner, I'm partnered with my partner, my husband. When I’m not busy doing all of the above, I’m a wife and the mother of a gorgeous teen boy who's the sounding board for my male characters.

Author Links:

      

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Book Blitz Organized by:

Month9Books Friday Reveal + Giveaway - Chapter One of Lifer by Beck Nicholas

Welcome to this week’s M9B Friday Reveal!

This week, we are revealing the first chapter for

Lifer by Beck Nicholas

presented by Month9Books!

Be sure to enter the giveaway found at the end of the post!

Asher is a Lifer, a slave aboard the spaceship Pelican. A member of the lowest rung of society, she must serve the ship’s Officials and Astronauts as punishment for her grandparents' crimes back on Earth. The one thing that made life bearable was her illicit relationship with Samuai, a Fishie boy, but he died alongside her brother in a freak training accident.

Still grieving for the loss of her loved ones, Asher is summoned to the upper levels to wait on Lady, the head Official’s wife and Samuai’s mother. It is the perfect opportunity to gather intel for the Lifer’s brewing rebellion. There’s just one problem—the last girl who went to the upper levels never came back.

On the other side of the universe, an alien attack has left Earth in shambles and a group called The Company has taken control. Blank wakes up in a pond completely naked and with no memory, not even his real name. So when a hot girl named Megs invites him to a black-market gaming warehouse where winning means information, he doesn’t think twice about playing. But sometimes the past is better left buried.

As Asher and Blank’s worlds collide, the truth comes out—everyone has been lied to. Bourne Identity meets Under the Never Sky in this intergalactic tale of love and deception from debut novelist Beck Nicholas.

 Title: LIFER
Publication date: December 16, 2014
Publisher: Month9Books, LLC.
Author: Beck Nicholas

Excerpt:

Chapter One
[Asher]

I mark my body for Samuai.
My right hand is steady as I press the slim needle into my skin. It glints under the soft overhead light of the storage locker, the only place to hide on Starship Pelican. Row upon row of shelving fills the room. Back here I’m hidden from the door.
It’s been seventeen days since Samuai passed. Seventeen days of neutral expressions and stinging eyes, waiting for the chance to be alone and pay my respects to the dead Official boy in true Lifer fashion. With blood.
The body of the needle is wrapped in thread I stole from my spare uniform. The blue thread acts as the ink reservoir. It’s soaked with a dye I made from crushed feed pellets and argobenzene, both swiped from
farm level. The pungent fumes sting my eyes and make it even harder to keep the tears at bay. But I will. There will be no disrespect in this marking.
My slipper drops to the floor with the softest of thuds as I shake my foot. I raise it to rest on a cold metal shelf. Samuai always held my hand when we met in secret, but I can’t bear to examine those memories now. The pain of him being gone is still so fresh.
The first break of skin at my ankle hurts a little. Not much, since the needle is nano-designed for single molecule sharpness, and it’s not as though I haven’t done this before. Recently. The tattoo for my brother circles my ankle, completed days ago, a match for the one for my father. My memorial for Samuai had to wait for privacy. The blue spreads out into my skin like liquid on a cloth. The dot is tiny. I add another and another, each time accepting the momentary pain as a tribute to Samuai. Soon I’ve finished the first swirling line.
“Are you mourning my brother or yours?”
My hand jerks at the familiar voice, driving the needle deep into the delicate skin over my Achilles. Davyd’s voice. How did he get in here so quietly? I wince, clamping down on a cry of pain. No tears though. Nothing will make me disrespect Samuai. I remove the needle from my flesh and school my features into a neutral expression before I turn and stand to attention.
“Davyd,” I say by way of greeting. Despite my preparation my throat thickens.
My response to him is stupid because he looks nothing like Samuai. Where Samuai radiated warmth from his spiky dark hair hinting of honey and his deep, golden brown eyes, there is only ice in his brother. Ice-chiseled cheekbones, tousled blond hair, the slight cleft in his chin, and his gray eyes. Eyes that see far too much.
But he’s dressed like Samuai used to dress. The same white t-shirt and black pants. It’s the uniform of Officials, or Fishies, as they’re known below. He’s a little broader in the shoulders than his older brother was—to even think of Samuai in the past tense is agony—and he’s not quite as tall. I only have to look up a little to meet his gaze. I do so without speaking.
I shouldn’t be here, but I’m not going to start apologizing for where I am or his reference to my forbidden relationship with his brother, until I know what he wants.
“Is that supposed to happen?” He points at my foot, where blood drips, forming a tiny puddle on the hard, shiny floor.
His face is expressionless, as usual, but I can hear the conceit in his voice. I can imagine what the son of a Fishie thinks of our Lifer traditions.
Today, I don’t care. Even if his scorn makes my stomach tighten and cheeks flame, I won’t care. Not about anything Davyd has to say.
“It’s none of your business.”
One fine brow arches. Superior, knowing.
He doesn’t have to say the words. The awareness of just how wrong I am zaps between us. Given our relative stations on this journey—he’s destined to be a Fishie in charge of managing the ship’s population, and me to serve my inherited sentence—whatever I do is his business, if he chooses to make it so. He’s in authority even though we’re almost the same age.
In order to gain permission to breed, Lifers allowed the injection of nanobots into their children. These prototype bots in our cells give our masters the power to switch us off using a special Remote Device until our sentence is served. At any time we can be shut down. I’m not sure how exactly, only that each of us has a unique code and the device can turn those particular bots against us. It’s an unseen but constant threat.
I keep my face blank and my posture subservient, but my fingers tighten around the needle in my hand. How I long to slap the smooth skin of his cheek.
For a second, neither of us speaks.
“Your brother or mine?” he asks again. Softly this time. So low, the question is almost intimate in the dim light.
I inhale deeply, welcoming the harsh fumes from my makeshift ink. The burning in my lungs gives me a focus so the ever-present emotional pain can’t cripple me. My brother and my boyfriend were taken on the same day, and I’m unable to properly mourn either thanks to the demands of servitude.
I can’t let it cripple me. Not if I want to find out what really happened to Zed and Samuai.
“Does it matter?” I ask. Rather than refuse him again, I twist the question around. He would never admit to having interest in the goings-on of a mere Lifer.
“No.” His voice is hard. Uncaring. He folds his arms. “But it’s against ship law to deface property.”
It takes a heartbeat, and then I realize I’m the property he’s talking about. My toes curl because my fists can’t. I see from the flick of his eyes to my feet that he’s noticed. Of course he has. There’s nothing Davyd doesn’t notice.
It’s true though. The marks we Lifers make on our bodies are not formally allowed. It is a price we pay for the agreement signed in DNA by our parents and our grandparents. They agreed to a lifetime of servitude, and their sentence is passed down through the generations for the chance at a new life on a new planet. I am the last in the chain, and my sentence will continue for twelve years after landing.
We Lifers belong to those above us, body and soul, but no Fishie or Naut—the astronauts who pilot the ship—has ever tried to stop the ritual. In return we are not blatant. We mark feet, torsos, and thighs. Places hidden by our plain blue clothing.
If the son of the head Fishie reports me, it will go on my record no matter how minor the charge, and possibly add months to my sentence. A sentence I serve for my grandparents’ crimes back on Earth after the Upheaval. Like others, their crime was no more than refusal to hand over their vehicle and property
when both were declared a government resource.
I swallow convulsively.
I don’t want that kind of notice. Not when we’re expected to land in my lifetime. Not when I hoped to find answers to the questions that haunt me.
The first lesson a Lifer child learns is control around their superiors. I won’t allow mine to fail me now.
“Did you want something? Sir?”
If there’s a faint pause before the honorific, well, I’m only human.
He lets it pass. “The Lady requires extra help at this time. You have been recommended.”
“Me?”
His lips twist. “I was equally surprised. Attend her now.”
The Lady is the wife of the senior Official on board the Pelican, and both Samuai and Davyd’s mother. She’s a mysterious figure who is never seen in the shared area of the ship. I imagine she’s hurting for her dead child. Sympathy stirs within me. I’ve seen the strain my own mother tries to hide since Zed died, and I don’t think having a higher rank would make the burden any easier to bear.
It’s within Davyd’s scope as both Fishie-in-training and son of the ship’s Lady to be the one to inform me of my new placement, but I can’t help looking for something deeper in his words. There should be a kinship between us, having both lost a brother so recently, but Samuai’s death hasn’t affected Davyd at all.
“Who recommended me?”
He shrugs. “Now. Lifer.”
I nod and move to tidy up, ignoring the persistent pain in my ankle where the needle went too deep. My defiance only stretches so far. Not acting on a direct request would be stupidity. I will finish my memorial for Samuai, but not with his brother waiting. It’s typical that Davyd doesn’t use my name. I can’t remember him or his Fishie friends ever doing so.
It was something that stood out about Samuai from when we were youngsters and met in the training room. It was the only place on the ship us Lifers are close to equal. I was paired to fight with him to first blood, and he shocked me by asking my name. “Asher,” Samuai had repeated, like he tasted something sweet on his tongue, “I like it.”
In my heart there’s an echo of the warmth I felt that day, but the memory hurts. It hurts that I’ll never see him again, that he’ll never live out the dreams we shared in our secret meetings. Dreams of a shared future and changes to a system that makes Lifers less than human.
When I’ve gathered the small inkpot and put on my slippers, I notice a smear of blood on the slipper material from where I slipped earlier. It’s the opportunity I need to let my change in status be known below.
“Umm.” I clear my throat. Please let the stories I’ve heard of the Lady be true.
“What?” asks Davyd from where he waits by the door, presumably to escort me to his mother. The intensity of his gaze makes me quake inside. It’s all I can do not to lift my hand to check my top is correctly buttoned and my hair hasn’t grown beyond the fuzz a Lifer is allowed.
“My foot attire isn’t suitable to serve the Lady.” I point to the faint smudge of brown seeping into my footwear. It is said by those cleaners who are permitted into the Fishie sleeping quarters that the Lady insists her apartment be kept spotless. She’s unlikely to be pleased with me reporting for duty in bloodstained slippers.
Davyd’s jaw tenses. Maybe I’ve pushed him too far with this delay. I hold my breath.
But then his annoyance is gone and his face is the usual smooth mask. “Change. I will be waiting at the lift between the training hall and study rooms.”
He doesn’t need to tell me to hurry.
He opens the door leading out into the hallway and I expect him to stride through and not look back. Again he surprises me. He turns. His face is in shadow. The brighter light behind him shines on his tousled blond hair, which gives him a hint of the angelic.
“Assuming it’s my brother you’re mourning,” his voice is deep and for the first time there’s a slight melting of the ice. “You should know. … He wasn’t worth your pain.”

About the Author

I always wanted to write. I’ve worked as a lab assistant, a pizza delivery driver and a high school teacher but I always pursued my first dream of creating stories. 

Now, I live with my family near Adelaide, halfway between the city and the sea, and am lucky to spend my days (and nights) writing young adult fiction.

Connect with the Author:  

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Five Friday Favourites - Favourite Typography On Books

Five Friday Favourites is a meme created and hosted by Book Badger.

This week the topic is Favourite Typography On Books.

Here are my picks:

 

Book Blitz + Giveaway - Zoe and the Demon Slayer by Neel Kay

Zoe and the Demon Slayer by Neel Kay
Publication date: October 6th 2014
Genres: Fantasy, New Adult

Synopsis:

Twenty-four year old book worm and blogger Zoe Graves was looking forward to the fourth and final instalment of her favourite book saga – The Augustin Chronicles. The evening was meant to be spent in line at the local bookstore with hundreds of other fans, getting the book, maybe even meeting the author, and ultimately spending the night with the dreamiest hero of them all, Lucien de Forest and the love of his life Noomi Augustin.

But somewhere someone thought otherwise.
Confused and hurt after a mugging by the bookstore, Zoe is somehow transported to another world, and suddenly finds herself in a snow-covered landscape witnessing a bloody fight far away from the English summer, and is left to rely on the help from the rather reluctant Matis, who just happen to be out to kill none other than Zoe’s favourite hero and heroine, Lucien and Noomi.
Although convinced she might be in some sort of limbo or maybe even in a coma, Zoe figures that her role in the story is to prevent Matis from killing her all-time favourite fictional couple.

Goodreads

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AUTHOR BIO

Introvert, creative, awkward.

Neel Kay lives with her husband and two kids in rural surroundings in the south of Denmark, not far from the German border. She’s a trained milliner, studied English at university, and now works a day job as a web editor. But she’s been writing always.

Love coffee, scarves and sea views. Oh, and butt-kicking heroines who know how to swing a sword and aren’t afraid to get a little dirty.

Author Links:

Blog | Goodreads | Facebook | Twitter

Excerpt:

His eyes were dark, so very dark, and the equally dark hair, although some of it was braided, didn’t look girly or weird at all. Well, maybe a little weird, seeing as men like him usually only existed in the fantasy books Zoe read and not in the real world. She gaped at the sort of Mohawk the tight braids along the sides of his head and the loose hair on top created.
He squinted. “Stop following me,” he said, practically biting at her. “I don’t have time to save odd damsels in distress.” He picked up a couple of dead rabbits from the ground, turned back around and walked away.
Zoe didn’t move. She could hardly feel her feet anymore. “But what about your cloak?” she yelled after him. “Don’t you need it?”
“Keep it.” He waved a hand in the air and kept up a determined walk on the path that led up to the top of a small hill.
Behind Zoe there was a small piece of forestland. Although she couldn’t be sure, she didn’t imagine anyone lived there. Besides, she wasn’t going back to those dead soldiers, not even to just walk past them. She couldn’t stomach the smell. Everywhere she looked, all that she saw were big black mountains far away in the horizon and the big orangey white sky sending down all that snow.
It was then that Zoe realised that she’d continued her pursuit of the man. She didn’t have any choice really. She’d never been much of an outdoor person, and she wouldn’t last an hour under these conditions.
“You’re still following me,” the man suddenly said. His back was still turned, but he had stopped at the top of the hill. “Even if you’re keeping your distance, you are still following me.” He turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder. “Like a damn cat,” he added, sending her a tired glance.
“But maybe my home is in that direction,” Zoe argued. She was out of breath and her dry throat was killing her. “You did tell me to go home. Maybe that is what I’m doing?”
“But it isn’t, though, is it? You said you were lost.”
“Why won’t you help me?” She’d finally climbed the hill, panting like she was completely out of shape, which she actually wasn’t thanks to Jason.
Down there, by the foot of the hill, there was a small cluster of houses that didn’t exactly warrant the description of a village. It was just a few houses pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Wherever that was?
The man glanced at her casually and then suddenly did a double take. The brow curled up and suddenly without any warning, he grabbed her cheeks with both hands and tilted back her head.
Zoe tried to pull away, but found that she didn’t have the strength to fight. Instead, she felt a burning sensation behind her eyes, the very eyes that the man kept staring into.
“Your eyes are green?” he said, looking at her accusingly.
She didn’t know how to respond to that. Her nostrils flared and the cold tore at the insides of her nose. What she wouldn’t give for some warm clothes, a roaring fireplace and some hot chocolate. Oh, and that man out of her face. There was a strange familiar charm to his face, but still, he was a cold-blooded killer who was staring at her funnily.
“Is that a common thing where you’re from?” He let go of her while eyeing her suspiciously.
“I-I guess it’s not that uncommon. Why?”
He shook his head. “What’s your name?” He turned around and started to walk down the hill as if he didn’t really care about the answer to his question. But he kept peering back over his shoulder, his eyes squinted, exuding something resembling surprise.
“Zoe. What’s yours?” She followed him, feeling accepted somehow, and it was such a relief that her chin started to wobble.
He nodded and then stopped peering over his shoulder. “I’m Matis,” he said.
Zoe swallowed and fought hard to keep the tears at bay. “It’s nice to meet you, Matis.”
He stopped abruptly and turned. “Is that it?” he said. But before Zoe had a chance to say anything, he made a low grumbling sound, something resembling an ironic scoff, and then continued marching away.
Zoe was confused. “Um, does that mean you’ll help me?” She had to yell it after him, his long strides making the gap between them grow quickly.
“I’ll get you thawed up,” he yelled back, sounding annoyed again. “And get you into some other clothes, something a bit more seasonally appropriate.”
“Oh my god, you don’t know how happy that makes me.”
“You do know that I’m a killer, don’t you? You saw me kill those soldiers. If I were you, I wouldn’t be so fast to rejoice.”
“It’s either death by you or by hypothermia, and I figured you’d have killed me by now if you wanted to.”
Matis scoffed and then shrugged as if she had a point.
“Besides, I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m already dead and in some sort of purgatory or limbo. Or maybe I've just lost my mind.”
“Wonderful,” Matis exclaimed sarcastically, apparently not really paying too much attention to her. Zoe couldn’t be sure, but he actually seemed offended somehow.

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Blog Tour + Interview + Giveaway - Just Desserts by Tricia Quinnies

Just Desserts by Tricia Quinnies

Synopsis:

Sadie Maxon's almost done baking desserts and waitressing at her father's trendy diner in Lake Geneva. But things aren't going well, and she's anxious to get back to Chicago to finish grad school.

When Quinn Laughton, a contractor renovating the Wrigley mansion on the lake, offers to buy the crumbling diner, Sadie finds herself in trouble. She can't resist his deal or his sexy down-to-earth sweetness. Maybe Chicago and grad school can wait. . .

When Sadie finds out that Quinn is a Wrigley, she isn't sure whether she's just a business opportunity to him, or if perhaps something more, and starts to doubt what she feels. To convince Sadie of his intentions, Quinn mixes up his own batch of romance and passion, hoping the way to Sadie's heart is through his charm!

But will Sadie's small town sensibilities be swayed by Quinn's big city charm, or, will each of them get their just desserts?

 

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About The Author

Tricia Quinnies knew, when she finished reading PERFECT by Judith McNaught, she wanted to write a romance. But, her three young sons kept her happily busy. In 2009, she carved out time for herself, usually at four in morning, and set about writing her first romance. It was a love story inspired by her college time in London, England. At last check it's under the bed waiting for a rewrite. A few stories later she found writing contemporary romances and setting them closer to home on the shores of Lake Michigan much easier. While not writing Tricia tries to keep up with her very social teenagers, two Doxies and one husband. JUST DESSERTS is her debut novel.

Follow Tricia:

Twitter | Tumblr | Pinterest | Facebook

When did you start writing?

 
Really, I’ve been a reader a lot longer than a writer. Reading is way easier. But something clicked in my head around 2005. I just had to get these half-baked ideas in my mind out and on paper. Once I started to write them down, they turned into something more and I loved the fun that was turning up on the pages.

What makes you want to write?

I love creating characters, throwing challenges at them, and giving them major headaches! I’m genuinely surprised by their reactions and how they develop.    

 

Do you ever get writer's block and what do you do to get over it?

All the time. It’s the nature of the beast I suppose, so I just beat it down. Every morning I try to get something…anything written. Once the words start coming I keep going. Trust me, there are many morning that the words have to be dragged out.

 

Do you have a special way of going about writing?

Nope. Just keep writing, re-writing and revising.

 

Do you have any works in progress?

I have to give Sadie and Quinn in JUST DESSERTS a run for their money…more to come later.

 

What are your hobbies? 

Cooking. Eating. Watching Walking Dead with my family. Walking my dogs, Stella and Frankie. 

 

How did you choose the character names for Just Desserts?

Sadie came from my cousin. She was his “lost love” and the “one that got away”! Quinn is from my first book. His character was one of my favorites so I decided to make him the star in his own story.

 

Who is your favourite character in Just Desserts?  

Sadie’s dad, Paul Maxon.

 

How did you get the idea for Just Desserts?

I wrote it while on vacation in Door County, Wisconsin. Which is why, I suspect, the story came out lighthearted, fun and full of sweet treats that we love in the Midwest.

 

What was your favourite part of writing Just Desserts?

I loved writing the scene in the Field Museum in Chicago.
 
 

What are you currently reading?

Reckless Viscount by Amy Sandas. I love the way she writes, full of rich details and good steamy scenes.  

 

What is your favourite book? 

 
Welcome to Temptation by Jennifer Crusie.

 

Who is your favourite author? 

Deborah Crombie.
 
 

What is your favourite film?

Love, love love  The Thomas Crown Affair with Pierce Brosnan and Rene Russo.

For so many reasons there’s not enough space to list!

 
 

What is your favourite TV show?

At this very moment…Scandal.

 

Quick-fire questions:

Chocolate or ice cream? Ice cream – Pralines and Cream from Baskin Robbins.

Paperback or ebook? Love my ebooks at home and I have to go to the library every week to check out the new paperbacks. After all, since I was a kid I wanted to become a Paperback Writer.

Dogs or cats? Dogs ... see above :)

Go out or stay in? Stay in. Because…

Summer or winter? I live in Wisconsin, so I have to appreciate cold winter days. But really, I find it a good excuse to stay in and read a great book!

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