Spotlight: The Eyewitness by Nancy Weeks

About the Book

Fans of TV’s Blue Bloods will love this dynamic new suspense series.

Maryland PD forensic scientist Emersyn D’Azzo has an explosive past with her father’s younger, sexy partner, Detective Alec Pearce. Then an ill-timed kiss destroys the thin line of trust between her and her dad, just before tragedy strikes and someone guns down her father.

The fatal bullet turns out to be tied to the ongoing spree of random sniper kills across the state, but Emersyn knows this wasn’t a random act of violence and is determined to find the killer.

To do so, she’ll need to rely on help from Alec, whom she doesn’t quite trust but just can’t resist. When they discover a connection to a decades-old disappearance of a college student, their investigation takes a deadly twist. Can they learn to trust each other with their hearts to save their lives? 

Excerpt

Ted edged in closer. “You can take a few moments for one dance.” He eyed Tessa. “You don’t mind if I borrow your sister, do you?”

“But I do.”

The deep, masculine voice sent an arousing jolt right into Emersyn’s core. And damn it to hell, her mouth went dry, making it impossible to swallow. She fingered her straw then took a deep drink. This time she welcomed the burning chill against her lungs. Detective Alec Pearce had a knack for showing up at her worst moments. Why the hell was he here?

Ted moved away from her as if he’d been burned. “Alec, good to see you.”

“You do know you’re hitting on my partner’s daughter, right, Ted?”

“Just asking her for a dance.”

Emersyn glanced between the two; she actually preferred Ted’s company to the man who seemed to go out of his way to make her crazy.

Alec reached for her hand and set it in his palm. “Actually, she promised this dance to me. They’re playing our song.”

The muscles in her body tensed as her fingernails dug into his skin. “I don’t—”

“Music is on, Em. Shall we?” His other hand went around her waist, and he gave her a swift yank.

“Jerkball, let go,” she hissed in his ear.

His grip tightened. “It’s just one dance. Play nice.”

Alec escorted Emersyn to the small dance floor near the bandstand. Every instinct in her wanted to slap his arrogant expression right into next week, but that would make a scene. It was what half the bar expected the instant he got within striking distance. They were all waiting for her to let loose. But this was a new day, a new diploma, new job, new Emersyn. Emotions in check.

“My name is Emersyn. I would think you would remember something so simple.”

Alec’s face lit with a grin as his arms brought her close and their bodies began to move to the music. She shot a glare at Tessa, pleading for her to do something. Instead, her sister, the traitor, took another sip of Emersyn’s drink, lifted it in a toast, and rotated in her seat.

A chuckle came from deep in Alec’s throat. “Tessa likes me. You can thank me now.”

“I can also knee you where the sun doesn’t shine.”

He lifted her chin with his thumb. “Now that wasn’t nice. I sacrificed a night with that blonde”—he nodded to a beautiful woman sitting at the end of the bar—“just to keep Lecher Ted from hitting on you … again.”

“What makes you think I needed rescuing?”

“Oh please, Tessa, make the creep go away. I’m ever so sweet and don’t want to hurt the poor jerk’s feelings.”

She yanked out of Alec’s hold, but he was ready and moved her back into his arms without missing a beat.

“Relax. I’m teasing.”

“You are such an ass.”

His lips brushed over her ear. “Enjoy our moment, Em.”

Impossible. They had more layers of misunderstanding between them than her mother’s chocolate cake, heated words that couldn’t be unheard and arguments with no closure.

After her father had mentioned at dinner that Alec was joining them for dessert, she’d jumped at Tessa’s offer to buy her a drink at the tavern. It was the perfect place to hide out. A lone wolf like Alec wouldn’t be caught dead in the crowded, noisy bar. But here he was. She’d run but not far enough.

“I’m sorry I missed your graduation ceremony, but I have a little something for you,” he whispered.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“I’m proud of you.”

The words sounded so genuine. “Dad seems resigned to the idea of me at least working alongside cops, if not as a cop.”

“Joe doesn’t want you anywhere near the job. But you found a way around that. Instead of crawling in the gutter looking for the worst mankind has to offer, you’re picking through what they left behind.”

She halted in the middle of the dance floor. “You think that’s why I became a forensic scientist?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?”

The music stopped, and they stood still, glaring at each other. Our thing. “I can’t do this tonight,” she said, dropping her hand to her sides. “Thanks.”

“For?”

“Saving me from another go-around with Ted.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“I can take care of myself.”

For once, there was no comeback. Instead, he eased her against him and tucked her hand over his heart. “Dance with me, Emersyn.”

That sexy, got-to-have-you-now voice was back, and her other four senses came out to play. Being close to Alec Pearce, taking in his spicy, clean soap scent, feeling the strength of his arms around her wasn’t an awful feeling. Confusing? Hell yes, but her body sure enjoyed it. It’s just a dance, right?

She lowered one hand to his hip and brought the other around his neck, her cheek resting against his. Alec tightened his grip around her waist as he spun them around the dance floor. The move put their bodies in sync, and there was no mistaking the effect she had on him. Her lips brushed against his skin, sending shock waves through her.

He sucked in a breath and tilted his head. Their gazes held for what seemed like an eternity. He was so damn gorgeous, his deep brown eyes with a hint of gold, lush lashes, and a dusting of five-o’clock shadow on his square jaw that she ached to feel rubbed against all her soft places. As if he read her mind, his mouth caressed her bottom lip. He waited, expecting her to pull back. Need took over, and she lost her mind.

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About the Author

Nancy C. Weeks has loved happy-ever-after romances since her early teens. While still in college, she met and married her hero. She spent the next several years honeymooning and working overseas. Today, she lives in suburban Maryland with her husband of more than thirty years. With her two grown children out of the nest, she enjoys spending her days writing suspenseful happily-ever-after adventures outside on the deck as the local bird population keeps her company. When she is not writing, Nancy loves to blog about fascinating people, both real and fictional. The one quote that kept her dream alive:

Many of life's failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up. ~Thomas Edison~

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Excerpt: Masquerading with the Billionaire by Alexia Adams

About the Book

World-renowned jewelry designer Remington Wolfe is competing for the commission of a lifetime and someone is trying to destroy his company from the inside. He’s in for more than one surprise when his unexpected rescuer turns out to be a sexy computer specialist with a sharp tongue and even sharper mind.

Kat Smith is a cyber-security expert and master of disguise. So being assigned to masquerade as Wolfe’s girlfriend while she uncovers who slipped malicious code into his corporation’s computer systems is no problem. But when Kat’s past catches up to her and their fake relationship starts to feel a little too real, problems are all she seems to have.

Excerpt

She took a deep breath. “As I don’t have a UK work visa, though, your HR department might figure out that something’s up. The other option would be for me to pretend to be your girlfriend.” She winced as his foot slid off the clutch mid-shift, and the car protested his attempted gear change.

“What makes you think I don’t already have a girlfriend? I don’t double dabble.”

She laughed, and he white-knuckled the gearshift. “Bonus points for the computer term. Have you been studying?”

“A little. But I realized I was out of my depth and had to call in an expert.” The look he sent her this time implied he still doubted her credentials. He’d see soon that she knew her stuff.

It probably wasn’t fair that she knew so much about him when, as shown by the fake cat-lady photo, he knew nothing about her. “I’m an expert. For example, I know that unless you’ve switched to more discreet female companionship, your last intimate relationship ended five weeks ago. She claimed you were, and I quote, ‘emotionally unavailable.’ But judging by the number of photos on Instagram of her kissing her dog, I assume you got tired of your girlfriend tasting like Shih Tzu.”

His laugh filled the car and drew an answering smile from her. “You’re not wrong. But how did you know I broke up with her? Maybe she shattered my heart?”

“Because shortly after your name stopped appearing in her social media feeds, she was suddenly sporting an expensive-looking tennis bracelet. I doubt men who get their heart shattered give their exes break-up jewelry.”

He shrugged but his face was still lit by a smile. “I write it off as a marketing expense.”

“I bet you have a whole line of relationship termination pieces.”

“True. I call it the ejection collection. Makes me a fortune.”

“Well, rest assured, I won’t be demanding any rocks if we go the fake girlfriend routine. Smacks of payment for services rendered to me.”

That elicited a raised eyebrow. “Will services be rendered? This is sounding like the better option.”

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About the Author

A former world wanderer, Alexia Adams writes contemporary romance stories that reflect her love of exotic destinations and diverse characters and cultures. She currently lives near Vancouver, Canada with her husband and four children and dreams of a world without housework. As a flight risk mom, romance is her escape and she can often be found with her nose in a book, pretending she’s somewhere else. Check out her website, and sign up for her monthly newsletter to discover your next escape.

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Excerpt: The Coppersmith Farmhouse by Devney Perry

About the Book

One old farmhouse brought them together. It could also tear them apart.

Gigi has just uprooted her whole world to start a new life. The unexpected gift of a farmhouse in small-town Montana is just what she and her daughter need to escape big-city loneliness. The last thing she needs is attitude from the town’s sheriff, the most perfectly attractive and ruggedly handsome man she’s ever laid eyes on—and a complete jerk.

Jess knows all about women like Gigi. Beautiful. Sexy. Scheming. She’s stolen his sanctuary, the farmhouse that should have been his. But along with a face full of freckles, she’s got a sharp wit and a backbone of steel—something he doesn’t discover until after making a complete fool of himself. If he can earn back her trust and win her heart, he might just find the home he’s always needed.

Excerpt

Jess emerged from the bathroom and came to the bed. All of the calm I had found moments ago evaporated.

He climbed in, lying on his back, and immediately pulled me into his side with one arm wrapped around my shoulders, the other propped behind his head.

At first, I wasn’t sure what to do. Every muscle in my body was tense. Jess felt it too because he shook me lightly. “Relax, Georgia. Sleep.”

“I can’t relax, Jess. You’re in my bed.”

“I’m aware.”

“Well, at least let me slide over to my side,” I said.

“No. Just relax. You’re sleeping here.”

“Seriously, Jess. I’ve never slept next to anyone other than Rowen before. I won’t be able to like this.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Really what?”

“Never slept next to a man before?”

“Uh . . . no.”

Damn.

I had just opened the door for us to talk about my past relationships, something I was not ready to do. Obviously I wasn’t a virgin, having a four-year-old kid across the hall, but I didn’t think we were at that point yet where we shared the intimate details of our pasts.

And I really didn’t feel like talking about mine. The words “Nate Fletcher” tasted sour and made me sick.

“Good,” he muttered.

Well, that was surprising. I figured the sheriff would jump all over the chance to interrogate me. I was so relieved that he didn’t, I inhaled a deep breath and settled into his side.

It took me a few minutes, but the tension finally left my body. And when it did, I was shocked to find that sleeping on Jess was comfortable. Really comfortable.

I’d read about it in romance novels and seen it in movies but it had always seemed fake. I doubted that any woman could be comfortable squished into a man’s hard body. Sleeping like that wasn’t real, it was just a romantic notion.

I was glad to be proved wrong. This was nice.

Enjoying his warmth, I curled into Jess’s side and relaxed my head in the crook of his neck. One of my arms was underneath me while the other rested on his torso.

Jess’s scent filled my nose. I had gotten hints of it before, but now that I was lying on him, I could really breathe it in. It was amazing. Clean and fresh.

“What kind of soap do you use?” I asked.

“Not sure. Cheapest one they have at the store. Green apple, I think.”

“Hmm . . . I like it.”

Tomorrow I was adding green apple soap to my grocery list.

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About the Author

Devney lives in Montana with her husband and two children. After working in the technology industry for nearly a decade, she abandoned conference calls and project schedules to enjoy a slower pace at home with her kids. She loves reading and, after consuming hundreds of books, decided to share her own stories.

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Spotlight: The Lord of the Infield by Steve Reilly

About the Book

The Lord of the Infield Flies will thrill readers with Coach Steve Reilly’s harrowing, challenging, and adventuresome baseball team’s trek from Connecticut to play in Maine. As a prequel to his award winning memoir, The Fat Lady Never Sings, Reilly, a high school baseball coach, narrates the true story from the beginning of his coaching career at the age of 20. In summer 1977, Reilly plans to take his high-school-age team on a weekend trip to the baseball mecca on Cape Cod to play a Massachusetts all-star team. When plans go awry, he jumps at an offer to take the players instead to the serene surroundings of southern Maine to play that state’s all-star team. Most of the team’s starters decline; their hearts had been set on “The Cape.” Determined to go through with his commitment, Reilly gathers ten players to make the four-hour trip in a cabin truck and his car on a Friday night. Will the team arrive in time to battle Maine’s best the following morning? 

After his legal alcohol-age players convince him to stop at a package store on the way to buy just a “few beers” for the idyllic cabin they will be staying at in the resort area of Old Orchard Beach, they exit the package store with hand trucks filled with cases of beer. Chaos reigns. The cabin truck with its inebriated players gets separated from Reilly’s vehicle, losing half the team traveling in the opposite direction in Massachusetts! Will the team ever get to Maine? Will the team play Maine’s all-stars? And, will the players make it back to Connecticut?   

Book Excerpt

March 25, 2005

THE PEARL WHITE DOOR opened before me. A gaunt man wearing a gray pin-striped suit and goatee held the door open with his left hand and gestured with his right hand for me to enter. As I passed through the door, nervousness came over me. The strong scent of roses reminded me where I was. A pedestal sign directed me to go left. After an elderly couple crossed my path with their heads down, another pedestal sign directed me to the right down a narrow hallway. To my surprise, the hallway was empty. At the end of the hallway stood a wooden pedestal with a gold banker’s lamp lit above an open book. I grasped the pen from the slot carved in the pedestal and signed the book like a schoolboy as I made sure my penmanship was within the lines. I picked up a small card from a slot in back of the pedestal and put it in the pocket of my dress shirt; there would be plenty of time to read the poem later. With no one in front of me, I stood alongside the doorway as if waiting for permission to enter, but none was needed. As I stood in the doorway about to enter the quiet room, I thought about the summer of 1977 and my Senior Babe Ruth baseball team’s trip to Maine the last weekend of July.

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About the Author

Since 1976, Steve Reilly, a practicing attorney, has coached high school baseball in Connecticut’s Lower Naugatuck Valley. He has spent the last thirty years assisting other high school coaches and is currently in his seventeenth season at Seymour High. Reilly and his wife, Suzanne, live in Seymour, Connecticut.

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Excerpt: One and Only by Amy Knupp

About the Book

Drummer Micah Sullivan lost his music and his dreams when his wife died unexpectedly. In the emotional aftermath, he quit his successful country band and pushed away his family and friends. Three years later, he’s opened a music shop on Hale Street in Nashville and tells himself he’s content trying to make it a hit. What he failed to consider is that success requires connections—including the very ones he turned his back on.

Sloan McGuire is up for a new challenge…never realizing it might lead to heartbreak. When she takes a job as entertainment manager at a bar not known for its music, she doesn’t bargain for running into Micah, whose late wife was her best friend. She can tell within minutes that he’s still grieving. Out of love for her friend, she attempts to reconnect with the reclusive drummer. Falling for him isn’t in the plans, though—not only because he was married to her friend but because she’s been second-best before, and she never wants to play that role again.

As Micah starts finding his rhythm, life throws him a different beat. But with a little improvisation and a lot of courage, he just might tap into the one and only connection he needs.

Excerpt

“It’s not every night a girl gets an offer to spend time with the world-famous Micah Sullivan and his family.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” His heart hammered in his chest and lust pounded through his veins as he breathed in her scent, a light, floral something that made him feel more alive than he’d felt in forever.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, her lids lowering halfway and her voice going quieter, more private as he slid his hands to each side of her tiny waist. “I forgot you prefer Just Micah.”

He couldn’t answer, wasn’t even sure what she’d said, because his gaze had homed in on her plump bottom lip, where there was still the hint of a sheen from her lip gloss, and he suddenly wanted more than anything to taste her.

He dipped his head down and touched his lips to hers, only intending a quick taste, but when he felt her arms go around his neck and sampled the sweetness — chocolate and a faint hint of strawberries — he couldn’t have backed off if someone held him at gunpoint. He swept his tongue over her lower lip, teased the seam, and when she pressed the tip of her tongue to his and they swirled together, he couldn’t hold back the rumble that came up from his throat.

“You’re too tall,” Sloan said, pulling away only enough to get that out before she pressed her lips to his again.

“You’re too short,” he managed, not recognizing his own voice. He braced his hands on the backs of her upper thighs and lifted her so that their mouths lined up perfectly, then took a couple steps so her back was to the wall as he sealed his mouth to hers again, angling his head for better access. Sloan’s legs wrapped around him, and he was suddenly so hot it felt like the house was on fire.

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About the Author

Amy Knupp is the author of contemporary romance, a freelance copy editor for Blue Otter Editing, and a freelance technical writer. While the collection of professional hats she wears sounds a bit scattered and broad, the common thread among all of them (perhaps the little ball on top of each hat) is the written word. She loves words and grammar and meaty, engrossing stories with complex characters.

Amy lives in Wisconsin with her husband, two teenage sons, four cats, and two box turtles. She graduated from the University of Kansas with degrees in French and journalism. In her spare time, she enjoys traveling, breaking up cat fights, watching college hoops, and annoying her family by correcting their grammar.

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Spotlight: America's Next Reality Star by Laura Heffernan

In AMERICA’S NEXT REALITY STAR, Jen is cast on a reality show after she loses her job, her boyfriend, and her home. She hopes to win the cash prize but finds she also wants to win the heart of fellow contestant Justin. Fans of Sophie Kinsella's Confessions of a Shopaholic won't want to miss this charming, witty read published by Kensington’s Lyrical Shine.

SEEKING THE SMART ONE

Twenty-four-year-old Jen Reid had her life in good shape: an okay job, a tiny-cute Seattle apartment, and a great boyfriend almost ready to get serious. In a flash it all came apart. Single, unemployed, and holding an eviction notice, who has time to remember trying out for a reality show? Then the call comes, and Jen sees her chance to start over—by spending her summer on national TV.

Luckily The Fishbowl is all about puzzles and games, the kind of thing Jen would love even if she wasn’t desperate. The cast checks all the boxes: cheerful, quirky Birdie speaks in hashtags; vicious Ariana knows just how to pout for the cameras; and corn-fed “J-dawg” plays the cartoon villain of the house. Then there’s Justin, the green-eyed law student who always seems a breath away from kissing her. Is their attraction real, or a trick to get him closer to the $250,000 grand prize? Romance or showmance, suddenly Jen has a lot more to lose than a summer . . .

Excerpt:

He touched my chin with two fingers, bringing my gaze up to meet his. Damn those green eyes. I searched them for answers, wishing I knew whether he was putting on an act for the audience. Even with the lights off, the cameras stationed in the yard would capture us. The producers filmed everything, day and night. Everyone in America would know if we kissed. For a moment, I struggled to remember why that was bad.

“I guess it’s not your fault, since I got the question right,” I said begrudgingly, shifting slightly backward.

“If that is the best I can get, I’ll take it. But I’m going to work on complete forgiveness. I’ll pay you double interest on our bet—six cents.”

“Well, then,” I laughed. “Maybe I’ll have to reconsider once I get my money. I’d hate to have to send Birdie to break your kneecaps.”

The image of five-foot-tall Birdie coming after Justin with a baseball bat cracked him up. I laughed, too, crossing my legs and settling more comfortably in the lounger. My knee practically touched Justin’s leg. He didn’t move.

We sat quietly for a few minutes. I wondered if he heard my heart pounding. Even not wanting to get caught kissing on national television with a near-stranger, I found something about Justin irresistible. Possibly his smile. Or his dimples. His brains. The ease of talking to him. His personality. The fact that he was practically perfect for me in every way.

That line of thinking wasn’t helping. I needed to change the subject before I started calling him Mary Poppins.

“It’s a beautiful night.” I gestured at the sky.

“Yes, it is,” Justin said, his eyes never leaving my face. Did he lean forward slightly? Only inches separated our lips.

The warmth definitely wasn’t the beer. I licked my lips nervously and leaned in, closing the gap. If he moved the tiniest bit…

“So—”

Copyright © 2017 by Laura Heffernan

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About Laura Heffernan

Laura Heffernan is living proof that watching too much TV can pay off. When not watching total strangers participate in arranged marriages, drag racing queens, or cooking competitions, Laura enjoys travel, baking, board games, helping with writing contests, and seeking new experiences. She lives in the Northeast with her amazing husband and two furry little beasts.

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