Monday, February 18, 2019

Book Spotlight and Author Interview - "Behind the Mask" by Marianne Petit

Blurb 

Author Marianne Petit mixes true life experiences with fiction to create a suspenseful tale of intrigue and romance set in the early days of war-torn France.

In 1940 Paris, both rich and poor are thrust together - a mixed society struggling to survive.
American born Yvette Matikunas, one of the privileged few, goes underground with a deathbed promise to her grandfather that has her roaming the streets of France with a dangerous message. She quickly learns that no one is who they seem to be and trust is a thing of her past.

Injured in battle while trying to save the life of one of his men, Colonial André Rinaldo is disillusioned by a shell-shocked country and a weak government.   Persuaded to go underground and unite his fellow compatriots by forming resistance groups, he meets the beautiful blonde, Yvette, whose determination to free France from foreign dictatorship is as strong as his.

In the middle of espionage and clandestine rendezvous, they form a partnership that deepens even under the ever-present threat of arrest.  But with America’s interest in the war building in the background all Americans are ordered to leave the country. Will Yvette return to the States, or will André persuade her to stay and fight for love?


Excerpt

The train slowed as it approached the station. On the platform, German soldiers stood at attention. As they boarded the train, people shuffled through their belongings for their documents. A hush settled over the compartment in anticipation.

Yvette’s proof of citizenship shook in her fingers. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and dropped her hand in her lap.

Pierre, her canary, was quiet; thank the dear lord, for her nerves were taut enough without his high-pitched chirping. The last thing she needed was for him to draw attention. The last thing she needed was to have someone find Grandpère’s message hidden in the bottom of the cage. The words, written with a shaky hand, made no sense. The grapes are rotting on the vine. It’s time to bring them in. The wine is ripe. But her grandpère’s warning was embedded in her brain. Trust no one. Whatever cryptic message lay hidden under the paper, it put her in danger.

The compartment door slid open and Yvette’s heart skipped a beat.

Two soldiers stood in the corridor. One man, decorated with metals that would way down a rock, appeared to be the superior. He had a wide pronounced brow. His chin melted into his neck and his short-cropped silver hair seemed plastered to his head. A long gray mustache turned slightly down over a frown.
Yvette’s gaze slid past the elderly man to the light-haired soldier who studied her with intense blue eyes. Broad-shouldered, about six two, lean and muscular, he dominated the small doorway. His countenance rigid, like one accustomed to enduring the routine of war, he stood at attention, his eyes assessing everyone and everything.
His superior entered the compartment with an air of bitter disgust.

The routine common place everyone held out their traveling papers. Her heart pounding, Yvette waited and hoped her American papers would be of no interest to them.

The interrogation began in German and she didn’t respond, which brought a heated tone to the superior’s voice. He snapped something to the soldier who stood silently at the door. The younger man stepped forward, his gait like one of the wooden soldiers from the Laurel and Hardy movie Babes in Toyland.

“My commandant wants to know what kind of name Matikunas is,” he said in French.

Her father’s name was Lithuanian, a country annexed by Nazi Germany and placed under German civil administration. The Poles, especially the elite, became subject to mass murder. Was he fishing to see if she was Polish?

“I am an American,” Yvette insisted without further commentary.

Her remark brought a scowl to the commander’s face. He pointed to her birdcage and Yvette’s pulse leapt. 

When he ripped off the cloth cover, the startled bird darted back and forth in the cage. Pierre’s loud chirp filled the compartment. The German opened the door and stuck his hand inside.

“How dare you,” Yvette spat, in English, knowing he could not understand her. She did not care. “I hope he bites you.”

He turned a sinister look upon her and her body tightened.

The nervous bird hopped from one perch to the other.

The German began to peel up the newspaper lining the bottom of the cage.

Color drained from Yvette’s face. If he finds the note…dear Lord…what will he do?  Her teeth cut into her lip. She had heard horror stories of people brutalized, thrown in prison for far less. Grandpère’s death flashed before her eyes. Thinking about the possibilities brought a cold sweat to her brow. Calm down, she told herself. Breathe. Breathe.

The German’s fingers were inches away from discovering the hidden message.

Yvette held her breath…

…and Pierre pooped on his hand.

The scene played out in a comic rush. Red-faced, swearing, or so she guessed, the German pulled out his hand and snatched a handkerchief from the breast pocket of the gentleman sitting opposite her, who, in French, called him a German pig.

Yvette suppressed a grin.

Pierre broke out in song.

The commander spun on his heel. He said something to the handsome soldier in the corridor, stomped outside, then slammed open the next compartment.

The train whistle blew and the clanking of wheels, picking up speed vibrated throughout the compartment.

The soldier, who had stood at attention, strode in.

A jolt of fear attacked Yvette’s chest, yet she was struck by the strong sensual lines of his face. A muscle clenched in his narrow jaw. Eyes, like chips of glacial ice, hard and sharp, stared at her. This man seemed far more dangerous than his superior on so many levels.

He stepped up to her seat and bent before her, his face inches from hers. “You are either one brave or lucky woman,” he whispered in English.

He’d understood her!  She froze.

Despite the dangerous situation, she was keenly aware of his vitality, of the waves in his sandy hair and his wide forehead. Her senses leapt to life by the warm breath near her ear and the clean scent of freshly washed hair. She felt as though they were the only two people in the small room. As though they shared, a private moment meant for lovers. Her hands trembled.

Before she could respond, he continued. “Lucky for you that bird did not bite him.” The threat had an odd lilt, its tone almost amused. He straightened and stood over her. Whatever compassion she thought she sensed disappeared behind a mask of indifference.

“My commander is not happy,” he said in French. “He has instructed me to find out why an unchaperoned woman of your age, I surmise you are about nineteen, is traveling alone. He believes you pose a threat. Would you care to explain?” His voice took on an air of superiority.

“I am quite adept at taking care of myself and I’m twenty-one.”

“Get up,” he ordered. “Gather your things.”

Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. Her legs refused to move.

He grabbed her arm. “Now.” He yanked her from her seat.

No one in the compartment made a move to help and she understood their fear.

His touch disgusted her and, for a moment, reined her terror. She yanked free. “My bag.” Before she could reach up for her suitcase, the German grabbed the satchel. She pushed past him and stepped into the corridor. Once again, he grabbed her arm. His gait quick, he practically dragged her down the passageway.

A few times the birdcage bumped the wall and Pierre’s loud chirping filled the corridor.

Yvette clamped her mouth shut, suppressing the barbed words on her tongue. She was in enough trouble. As she walked, she deliberated on how she was going to ditch the hidden message. Leaving Pierre behind was not an option. When they approached the lavatory, she came up with a plan. “I have–“

“In here,” he ordered as he pushed open the door and shoved her inside. “Stay put.” The door thud shut.

Yvette dropped onto the small toilet. What in the world had just happened? Quickly she slid out the bottom of the cage and pulled out the note. She scribbled the words on the tiniest piece of paper she could find, slipped off the metal casing of Grandpère’s cigar lighter and neatly pressed the message inside the casing, something, she realized, she should have thought about doing earlier.

Footsteps stopped outside her door.

Her fingers shaking, she managed to put the lighter back together as the door squeaked open. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the original message on the floor. A long arm shoved a pair of pants, shirt and jacket at her. Yvette’s pulse pounded as she slowly eased her foot over the paper.
“Put this on, lock the door and stay quiet,” the familiar voice ordered.

Before she could say a word, the door closed. This time she locked it. Dumbfounded, Yvette stood in the cramped space and stared at the clothes. Whose side was he on? Why help her? Or was he? If this was some perverse game… no, he didn’t appear to be the kind of man who played games.

Yvette picked up the incriminating note, opened the toilet, ripped up the message and flushed the paper onto the tracks.

She struggled out of her clothes and slipped on the pants that surprisingly, fit rather well, securing them around her small waist with a belt, a size too big. The shirt fit a little snugly, the jacket fit perfectly. The thought that he’d sized her up sent an uncomfortable pang to her stomach. Her nerves throbbed at the base of her throat as she waited for his next move.

An hour passed–then another.

The clanking of metal on rails and rocking of the train had a soothing quality and finally convinced, for the moment, she was safe, Yvette’s heart settled back to a normal beat. She was just about dozing when the train slowed and a knock snapped her to attention.

“Open up.”

He was back. Her heart collided with her ribs.

“Hurry, there’s not much time,” he ordered.

She unlocked the door.

He grabbed the birdcage.

“What do you think–”

“Keep your head down and your mouth shut,” he said, his tone stern. With a heavy hand, he plopped a blue pillbox hat on her head. “Follow my lead.”

At the end of the corridor, a woman and her little girl stood waiting. As they approached them, Yvette noticed they had her suitcase. The German handed the cage to child. Her mother took her purse.

“Wait!” Grandpère’s lighter was in her pocketbook.  She couldn’t put them in danger.

“You’ll get him back,” he whispered.

“A smoke. I need a smoke.” She reached inside her bag and pulled out the lighter.

The German eyed her with an odd expression, then pivoted on his heel.

She followed him into the next compartment.
The rail car was full of men wearing the same outfit she wore: khaki pants, a white shirt beneath a khaki jacket and blue and gold hat.

“Foreign Legion.” Short and to the point was his explanation.

He was certainly a man of few words. “A dangerous lot. Keep your distance.”

“How can I–”

“Get off with them. The lost child will be a distraction.”

Yvette watched as the mother started to walk away, leaving her daughter behind.

“Take her hand, “The German whispered beside her. “You’re on your own from here.”

“But–”

“Go. Now.” He practically pushed her into the back of the tall, thin man in front of her. She was about to protest when she noticed, over her shoulder, the approaching German soldiers, one in particular—the Commander.

Yvette watched her savior walk away and greet his fellow comrades. For as long as she lived, she would never forget the kind German with the slight limp in his gait, who might have just saved her life.



Author Interview

Let's get you introduced to everyone, shall we? Tell us your name.
My name is Marianne Petit

Question: A little about your self
I am married for thirty-nine years. I have two sons and four grandchildren ages ten through seventeen months. I live on Long Island NY.

Question: Tell us your latest news.
I just finished my second romantic time travel that goes back to the California Gold Rush of 1850. The title is Timeless River and with any luck, it will be available in January.

Question: When and why did you begin writing?
I started writing in high school after I read numerous romance novels and thought, how hard can it be. Well, it’s a lot harder to write and finish a book than I thought!

Fiona: What inspired you to write your first book?
I heard about a PBS documentary about the Battle of the Little Bighorn and started plotting away.

Questions: How did you come up with your titles?
For my first book, A Find Through Time, my heroine finds a skull and then is sent back in time. I always seem to have some sort of reference to my title in the plot. In my latest book the heroine refers to her timeless river. In my second book, there’s a ghost, in my third book they are looking for the amulet of darkness and in my fourth book everyone is hiding behind a mask.

Question: Do you have a specific writing style? Is there anything about your style or genre that you find particularly challenging?
No style. I think as the years go by, you learn, grow, and the writing changes.
I find writing a mystery challenging.

Question: How much of the book is realistic and are experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?
Behind the Mask, my fourth romance book, is based on family and friends who lived in France during WWII. All my other books are purely fictional.

Question: To craft your works, do you have to travel? Before or during the process?
Before my second book, Rebecca’s Ghost I traveled to Williamsburg, VA to get a sense of the buildings and a feel for the time-period. My third book, Amulet of Darkness is a fantasy world based on Greek and Roman mythology, so unless I time traveled, LOL, no.

Question: Who designed the covers?
Two of my books were done by illustrators, the other ones I designed.

Question: Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
In A Find Through Time I basically wrote about the plight of the Native Americans and how they struggled due to circumstances beyond their control.
In Amulet of Darkness, there are undertones of religious belief.
Behind the Mask’s message would be how hard war is and let’s not forget all the heroes who fought for their beliefs and who put their lives in danger saving others.
Rebecca’s Ghost is all about family.
In my new book, Timeless River, another time travel that will be out in the fall, my message is to love yourself and to stand up for your dreams. Sometimes what you wish for isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Question: Are there any new authors that have grasped your interest?  Who is your favorite writer, and what is it about their work that really strikes you?
Wow, that’s hard to say as I have read so many great authors. I am partial to my old critique partner Mira Platt. I love her style of writing.

Question: Outside of family members, name one entity that supported your commitment to become a published author.
My husband is my biggest supporter…. technically, he’s not a family member so I hope that counts.

Question: Do you see writing as a career?
I see writing as a part of my life I couldn’t do without.

Question: Did you learn anything during the writing of your recent book?
I learned never to toss an unfinished story because it’s not working. Put it away, pick it up at a later date, look at in a different light and start all over again if you have to. My last book was started years ago and like a string of pearls it was broken. When I was deciding what to write next, I picked it up, made some adjustments, looked at it from different angles and now it’s finished and much better than the first time I started writing it.

Question: If your book was made into a film, who would you like to play the lead?
Well, I don’t know many Native American actors, but I would definitely insist on one for A Find Through Time.  For Rebecca’s Ghost, I’d love to see Pierce Bronson as the dark brooding hero. For Amulet of Darkness, a nice muscled man like Chris Hemsworth would be awesome. For Behind the Mask, Tom Cruise and for Timeless River…Liam Hemsworth.

Question: Any advice for other writers?
If you love writing don’t give up no matter the criticism, rejections and frustration. Finishing your manuscript, holding your book in your hand never gets tiring and is a thrill that makes everything you went through to get to that point worthwhile.

Question: Anything specific you want to tell your readers?
Well, yes. If you like a book, please take the time to let the author know. Getting a nice email from someone who enjoyed your work can make all the difference in an author’s day. And please, please take the time to write a review, even a short one on Amazon. With so many author’s books, out on the internet a review is the only way to get an author recognized.

Question: Is there one person, past or present, you would love to meet? Why?
I would love to meet Angelina Jolie because we both do a lot of charity work.

Question: Do you have any hobbies?
I love to oil paint, sing with my choir, horseback ride, kayak and go white water rafting.

Question: What TV shows/films do you enjoy watching?
Outlander and Poldark are my favorite shows.

Question: Favorite foods, colors,  music?
I’m really not a foodie, so not sure I have anything that I love. My favorite color is fuchsia and I love all kinds of music, especially soothing music like Yani

Question: Imagine a future where you no longer write. What would you do?
I’d be at my easel painting.

Question: You only have 24 hours to live, how would you spend that time?
With my family having fun. I’d probably take them all on a trip together.

Question: Do you have a blog or website readers can visit for updates, events and special offers?

Find Me Here – Marianne Petit

Facebook:    
Amazon:  
https://www.amazon.com/Marianne-Petit/e/B002BLOT7G/ref=dp_byline_cont_book_1

Friday, February 15, 2019

#BookReview – “Any Given Snow Day” by Marie Harte

Blurb

Ex-NFL star + snarky single mom = a touchdown of a holiday romance 

After two Super Bowl rings, MVP status, and retiring from the NFL while still on top, Mitch “Flash” Flashman’s millions should make life at the ripe old age of thirty-five a blessing. Yet he’s restless, rudderless, and can’t tell up from down. Roped into helping his brother coach a bunch of teenagers, Mitch finds himself playing defense against the many women in town wanting his attention. Except for one particular woman who doesn’t seem to like him much. Becca Bragg is mouthy, vulnerable, and sexy, and she captivates Mitch despite himself. But Mitch has no time for a sexy single mom when he’s still trying to figure out who he really is. With the playoffs, a boy’s future, and his own heart on the line, he’ll need to figure out how to pull the ultimate victory—winning Becca’s heart and keeping it. For good. 


Review


Rebecca Bragg is a smart, tough lady, and she’s not interested in the gorgeous, rich celebrity who has recently moved to town, even though he’s one of her son’s coaches on the high school football team. From the rumors she’s heard, the man is an arrogant hound dog, so she does her best to keep away from him.
Mitch Flashman is an ex-NFL star and a two-time Super Bowl champ, so he has no shortage of women flocking to him, but he’s lonely and doesn’t know what to do with his life since he’s retired from playing football. He’s sick of being used for his fame and money, so he avoids the grubby women always making plays for him. The only woman he’s interested in is Becca, but she won’t give him a chance. Luckily for Becca and Mitch, they have some awesome family members who are determined to see them together and happy.
I adored Becca’s snarky fourteen-year-old son, Simon. He was so sweet and protective of his mom, but also impressionable and definitely in need of some male attention. Nora and Deacon (Becca’s cousin and Mitch’s brother respectively) were fun loving and down-to-earth, and I hope Ms. Harte will write a second book featuring them as the main couple.
Becca and Mitch had sizzling chemistry, but her insecurities and his fear of trusting a woman kept driving a wedge between them. Still, given their pasts, that was completely understandable.
I’ve read a few of Ms. Harte’s books before and I’ve always enjoyed them. This story is no different. There are few minor typos, but nothing major. Her writing is tight and flowing. I look forward to reading more of her work.
4 Stars

Thursday, February 14, 2019

#BookReview – “Hope’s Dream” by Peggy Jaeger

Blurb

Hope Kildaire gave up her dream of becoming a nurse practitioner when a car accident killed her father and left her mother an invalid. Working two jobs and caring for her mother leaves the twenty-seven-year-old with no time for fun or relationships. When a law firm representing her paternal grandparents sends her several letters, Hope ignores them. She despises the family who disowned her father and wants nothing to do with them.

Lawyer Tyler Coleman's job is simply to obtain Hope's signature on a legal document. Getting it is harder than planned, though, when an unexpected attraction blossoms between them. If Ty is honest with Hope about why he's in Willow Springs, he'll fulfill his assignment but may risk hurting her.

The opportunity to have everything she's ever desired is at Hope's fingertips. Will her dream come true at the expense of Tyler's love? 

Review 

In book 2 in the Deerbourne Inn series, Hope Kildaire has given up her dreams of becoming a nurse practitioner to take care of wonderfully sweet but handicapped mother, Casey. She works two jobs, lives paycheck to paycheck, and only finds true happiness and enjoyment when she’s skiing, which works out since one of her jobs is as a ski instructor. Then she meets Tyler Coleson, a tourist in town for the winter season, and for the first time in years, she feels the spark of attraction for a man.
Tyler is a lawyer in town under false pretenses, and he needs Hope’s signature on a very important document. As he gets to know her and learns about her life, he realizes how empty is own life has become and that maybe it’s time for a change.
OMG! I loved Hope and Tyler. They’re smart, strong characters with real-life problems and concerns. They were very easy to relate to. Even though they started out as strangers, they instinctively trusted one another right off the bat. Romance bloomed in a fast, sweet way.
This is a fun, heartwarming, clean story. I got a little teary-eyed a few times when reading about Hope’s losses and the tough time she’s had. I really enjoyed this novella and look forward to reading more of Ms. Jaeger’s work.
5 Stars

Wednesday, February 13, 2019

Release Day - "Spirited Quest" by Julie Howard

Book Five in the Deerbourne Inn series
Page Count – 124
Price - $2.99

Tagline:

She’s chasing a ghost, but who is chasing her?

Blurb:

Paige Norman believes in a tangible, explainable world. When her ghost-hunting niece comes for a visit, she tries not to scoff. But someone, or something, is stirring up trouble at the Deerbourne Inn and her niece, Jillian, is at the center of the mystery.

Paige is certain the handsome Aussie photographer is behind the unexplained disturbances, and she warns her niece to stay clear. Meanwhile, Jillian gets to know the otherworldly Lady of the Deerbourne, who foretells an encounter with "two men." Then the pranks turn dangerous. Has her niece attracted a stalker or has she conjured an evil presence? Can the culprit be the man who has captured her heart?

Excerpt:

He nodded a friendly greeting to her, his gaze grazing past to include others on the porch. “G’day, ma’am. G’day all.”
An Australian. Her heart skipped a beat. Oh, to be twenty-five, even thirty-five, again. His gaze settled on her niece, and as always happened to men where this girl was concerned, his jaw slackened, then tightened.
Next to her, Jillian grew still, lifting wide blue eyes to the newcomer. The moment passed. He was through the front door and into the lobby, and the door closed behind him.
“You’re in for some nice company this week,” Paige commented with a smile.
A frown flickered across her niece’s face. “I’ve seen him before.”
“You’ve met?”
“Not exactly. He appeared to me in a dream.” Jillian’s blue eyes were troubled as she gazed at the Inn’s front door. She lifted one hand and rubbed the back of her head, then gave a shiver. “There was blood and I was afraid.”

Bio:
Julie Howard is the author of “Crime and Paradise” and “Crime Times Two.” She is a former journalist and editor who has covered topics ranging from crime to cowboy poetry. Learn more at juliemhoward.com.

Author Links:

Website: http://juliemhoward.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/juliemhowardauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18116047.Julie_Howard
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07D6CS4NQ

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2U1Q61b
IBooks: https://apple.co/2FPadg1
Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/spirited-quest-julie-howard/1130412180?ean=2940161285923
The Wild Rose Press: https://bit.ly/2FM4nLA
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43783385-spirited-quest

Tuesday, February 12, 2019

Book Spotlight - "His Midnight Sun" by Viviana MacKade

Heat level 3 - 4
Romantic suspense, standalone
5 Star Read
$ 0.99 FREE with KU
Blurb

Tormented, fierce, and broken, sculptor Aidan Murphy has judged himself guilty. He yearns for love but pushes everyone away. He longs for acceptance but has lost the key to open his heart. Until he meets Summer Williams. Beautiful and smart, Dr. Williams promises haven for a man who believes he deserves none. All he has to do is let her in and risk his heart and soul.

Summer’s managed to keep her inner light alive, even through tragedy. She’s created a new life for herself and her daughter in Crescent Creek with loving, caring and fun friends–well, except brooding, breathtaking Aidan. She’s used to keeping away from his type, though. All she has to do is ignore the pull of a man who’s turning up to be much more than snarls and storms. Will her compassion and medical instincts let her?

Love can heal a broken soul and shake up a timid heart. Or it can unleash devastation and revenge.

Will Aidan and Summer survive the hurricane?




Excerpt

Aidan knew her smell already, but not like this, not with the frightening freedom of the truth surrounding them in a cocoon. Bare and vulnerable, his soul dared to hope.

Slowly, so he wouldn’t miss the catch in her breath, he pulled her into his arms, every inch of her small body up against his. As reaction, her arms wound around his neck.

His palms traveled down the sweet curve of her back, and she arched like a cat under his touch. He kept going until he cupped her butt and pressed her into him. “Perfection,” he growled, while his lips grazed at her neck. “I dreamed about your body since the first time I saw you in your pink bikini.”

“My–really?”

“You’ve no idea.”

“I never–”

“You’re thinking, a ghrá. Don’t.”

“It’s very hard–”

“So hard it’s killing me.”

In his arms she stilled. In the weak light, her eyes were huge. “I didn’t mean, you know, it. You know? The, um, penis.”

The chuckle sounded strangled. Lord, she was one in a million. “I got that much.”

“Then why–you’re teasing me.”

“Aye.”

“Why? We’re supposed to get frisky and hot and sweaty, not belly laugh.”

“I don’t care what we’re supposed to do. I care about you, and you need to relax.”

“Yeah. Yes. It’s just that I am…. You are…” She sighed. “I’m a disaster.”

“You’re beautiful.” He kissed her temple. “And smart.” He bit her lower lip. “I’m the luckiest bastard living on earth for having you in my arms. But your brain needs to shut off.”

She squealed in surprise as he swept her in his arms. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed.”

“Oh.”

Aidan laid her on the mattress, took a pillow and pulled it out from its case.

“I understand I’m asking this question a lot,” she pointed at the naked pillow he’d discarded. “What are you doing?”

“Blindfolding you.”

“Oh, okay–wait, what? Listen, buddy–”

“Buddy?”

“Yes. Uh-uh, don’t come any closer for a second. You’re wild, and I had an inkling tonight was going to be a lot… fiercer than anything my imagination ever came up with, but I’m not really into freaky stuff. I am not going to be whipped or anything, and I am not going to spill hot wax over your genitals.”

“Dear God, woman, how–”

Her palm in the air stopped him. “ER. You see stuff. Really not my thing. I’m sorry.”

With a pillowcase in one hand, Aidan waited for an extra bit, then did nothing to stop the laughter and doubled over. “You’re the best, Doctor Summer,” he said as he leaned in front of her to secure the pillowcase on her eyes.

She grabbed his hands. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, a ghrá.”

“And?”

“And you really need to relax. You can’t do it if you keep those big eyes open. Let me put this on and trust me.”

“Nothing weird?”

“Not unless you ask me to.”

“Promise?”

“On my Irish heart.

“That’s a big deal. Okay. Give the pillowcase to me, I’ll put it on.”

The sight of Summer, fashioning a mask from the piece of cotton and secure it on her eyes won the prize for the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced, but she was still a bundle of nerves. Just like he did with rocks, he would make it his job to free the Summer hiding inside.

If it killed him.

~*~
Buy Links

~*~
 ~*~
Other books in Crescent Creek Series (all can be read as stand alone, and all are .99 cents, or FREE with Kindle Unlimited)
All Those Miles I Walked – Scott and DJ
BUY LINK ebook  paperback     
Painted Love – Rhett and Florence
BUY LINK:  Amazon


~*~
Series Collection


His Midnight Sun is part of the Crescent Creek Collection, now available on Amazon. 
Pre-sale deal, 0,99 cents for three books. 

Here’s the link for the collection:

 THE AUTHOR

Beach bum and country music addicted, Viviana lives in a small Floridian town with her husband and her son, her die-hard fans and personal cheer squad. She spends her days between typing on her beloved keyboard, playing in the pool with her boy, and eating whatever her husband puts on her plate (the guy is that good, and she really loves eating). Besides beaching, she enjoys long walks, horse-riding, hiking, and pretty much whatever she can do outside with her family. 

Find me:
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