Spotlight: Christmas with a Prince by Noelle Adams

Christmas with a Prince
Noelle Adams
(Rothman Royals, #4)
Publication date: November 29th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance

I might be a former party girl and the over-indulged daughter of a multi-millionaire, but for the last few years I’ve been trying to be work hard and be good. I have enough right now to deal with–graduate school, my community literacy program, preparations for Christmas, and my dad’s constant attempts to find me a husband. I definitely don’t want to put up with Henry always hanging around, acting obnoxious and looking far too sexy.

My boss forced me to take on Henry as a literacy volunteer for the month of December. I don’t know anything about him except he’s from somewhere in Europe, and he’s spoiled, entitled, arrogant, stubborn… and incredibly hot. He’s the kind of guy I’ve been trying to stay away from. Plus he’s got a secret–something he’s hiding from me.

Now I can’t think of anything but him, and I’m stuck with him until Christmas is over.

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—

EXCERPT:

I tried—very hard—not to feel an amused satisfaction at the look on Henry’s face as he saw the task in front of him.

“You think I have time to do it all?”

“Why wouldn’t you? Unless you’re planning to waste time while you’re here.” I remembered I was supposed to be nice to him now and tempered my tone with a smile. “I’m sure you’re not. You’ll get through them in no time.”

His eyes narrowed again in that suspicious way, as if he thought I might have questionable motives. “Why are you being nice to me today?”

I stiffened my shoulders. “Why wouldn’t I be nice?”

“You weren’t nice yesterday.”

This was unfortunately true, and I felt guilty about it. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was… I didn’t know who you were, and I overreacted.”

If anything, his expression looked even more suspicious than it had before. “And you know who I am now?”

I frowned in confusion. “Of course I know who you are. Marcus told me you were authorized. You’re not some creep who came in off the street to get close to the kids.”

His face relaxed slightly but not all the way. “I see.”

I felt even more confused, rattled in a way that wasn’t normal for me. I didn’t like it. I gave him a little scowl. “Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird.” He spoke the last word with care, as if he weren’t used to saying it.

“Yes, you are being weird. You seemed to like it yesterday when I was rude to you, and now you’re all stiff and off-putting because I’m trying to be nice.”

“I’m not off-putting.” He was relaxing even more now, that little smile on the corner of his mouth making those adorable creases.

I scowled even more. “Yes, you are. Do you have a problem with people being nice to you?”

“Only if they have ulterior motives.”

I gasped. “What possible motive could I have to be nice to you, other than being a decent person? Maybe you’re not used to being around decent people, but there are a few of us out there. If I want to be nice, I’ll be nice. I don’t have to have a motive for it.”

He was back to yesterday’s mood now. His eyes were laughing and appreciative both. As if I amused him and he also liked what he saw. “You’re not being very nice now,” he drawled.

“Well, I would if you’d let me. I find it very hard to be nice to obnoxious people.”

“And you think I’m obnoxious?”

He was teasing me. I knew it, and I also knew I shouldn’t play along. But I couldn’t seem to help it. “Of course you’re being obnoxious. I can’t be the only person who’s ever told you that.”

“You actually are. Almost everyone likes me.”

“That can’t possibly be true.”

Author Bio:

Noelle handwrote her first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she reads any book she can get her hands on and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.

She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances.

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Spotlight: Between You and Me by Jennifer Gracen

Jennifer Gracen is back with a brand new contemporary romance! In BETWEEN YOU AND ME, a woman and her friend make an arrangement: he'll be her sperm donor, if she pretends to be his girlfriend. But maybe they're not just pretending...

As the only daughter of the wealthy Harrison clan, Tess Harrison has everything—except the baby she longs for. With no husband in sight, she escapes to her family’s retreat in Aspen, Colorado, visions of sperm donors dancing in her head. Instead, she finds Logan Carter. When the ruggedly handsome manager of the Harrison ski house offers to be her baby daddy in exchange for her playing his girlfriend, Tess is breathless to begin the charade. After all, the brokenhearted heiress knows better than to fall in love . . .

She would be Logan’s dream girl, if his dark past had left him with any dreams. Now the brooding bachelor’s only hope is to satisfy his mother’s dying wish to see him happily paired off—and give lovely Tess the baby she longs for. But when he and Tess opt to make a baby the old- fashioned way, he’s fighting hard against the longing to hold on to the elusive Harrison beauty forever . . .

Excerpt

Copyright © Jennifer Gracen 2017

By the time Logan pulled up in front of Tess’s house, she was warm, full, tired, and happy. “I had a great time today.”

“I did too,” he said with a smile. “Thanks again for inviting me.”

“Any chance you’d like to do it again sometime soon?”she asked. “You’re a worthy ski partner, and I had fun with you.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he said. “But next time, I pay for my lift ticket.”

“Deal. Sometime next week?”

“Sure. Give me a call, we’ll work out a time.”

“Well, you have a job with a real schedule. Right now, I don’t. I’m free as a bird. So you give me a call.”

His eyes held hers as he said, “Okay. I’ll do that. You’re on. Got yourself a ski buddy.”

God, she wanted to kiss him. Sitting so close in the warmth of his truck, he smelled good and his eyes were intense and his mouth was inviting and she wanted to kiss him so bad. But this new friendship—all the things they’d revealed to each other that day—she didn’t want to cross any lines or mess it up. For now, she’d hold back.

But still couldn’t resist flirting a little bit. “So,” she said boldly. “Are you coming in to soak in my tub or what? The offer stands.”

His gaze turned hot, a full-out smolder that made her belly do a wobbly flip. “The offer is more tempting than you know.” His voice had dropped low and dead sexy, making her shiver. “But I think I’d better head home for tonight.”

They stared at each other for a moment, pure electricity crackling between them. She could feel her blood in her veins, racing now, hot and needing, as his eyes lowered to her mouth for a few seconds before lifting to meet her gaze again. “You sure?” she asked. Her heart thumped in heavy beats.

“Only so much temptation a man can take,” he murmured. “And you’re testing my limits as it is, Tess. You have to know that.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well . . .”

She leaned in, her face so close to his that she could feel his hot breath feather against her lips.

“Tess.” He whispered it as a protest, but his eyes gave him away. He wanted her too, she could see it all over his face.

She closed the distance between them, pressing her mouth to his. It was a brush of her lips against his, just the slightest touch. But his hand lifted to cup the back of her neck and hold her there. He took control of the kiss, gently but surely, slanting his mouth over hers to take more of what he wanted. Her mouth opened with a little sigh as their tongues met and swirled slowly. As they leaned into each other, his fingers threaded through her hair and his other hand came up, cradling her head in his hands as his mouth consumed hers.

Her senses reeled. His full beard tickled her face, surprisingly soft against her skin. The feel of his mouth on hers, his hands in her hair, his big, warm body so close . . .her head swam with it all. He deepened the kiss and groaned softly into her mouth, and she was lost. She surrendered willingly, kissing him back with the same slow, sensual pace he’d set, her fingers clutched in his ski jacket. She could have kissed him for days.

He broke away slowly, leaning his forehead against hers, eyes still closed. “Jesus,” he whispered. When his eyes opened to focus on her, they were heavy lidded with lust. “You . . . you better go inside now.”

Still catching her breath, she touched his cheek. “You sure you don’t want to come in?”

“I do want to,” he said, his voice thick. “Too much. So I’m not going to.”

She pulled back, trying to hide her disappointment. “Okay.”

“Tess . . .” He stared at her, his mouth opening and closing as he fought with what he wanted to say. “You’re an amazing woman. I like that we’re . . . kind of friends now. Let’s try to stick with that for now, okay?”

The disappointment sharpened in her gut, but she pasted on a smile. “Fine.”

“Ah crap. No, no, don’t say fine,” Logan demanded gently. “When a woman says fine, it’s never fine. Even a loner lumberjack like me knows that.”

She couldn’t help but giggle.

“Tess, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said earnestly. “Don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t love to go inside with you right now, because I would. But you have an agenda, you’re gearing up to go through some medical . . . stuff . . . and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

She gaped at him in shock. “I . . . I don’t know what one thing has to do with the other.”

“You have big plans,” he murmured, trailing the backs of his fingers along her cheek, eyes locked with hers. “I’d be a distraction. You said it yourself, you don’t want any distractions right now.” His gaze turned wicked and hot as he added, “I promise you, it’d be a fantastic distraction. A sexy, fun, passionate distraction . . . but this friendship we’ve started? Means more.”

“We’re attracted to each other,” she said flatly.

“Can’t deny that.” He touched his mouth to hers again, a light brush of his lips, and her whole body shuddered. “But I shouldn’t go inside with you. Not tonight.”

Her nerves jangled, every nerve ending alight and aware of him. Her heart beat hard and fast as she nuzzled into his palm, stared right into his eyes, and whispered, “If you insist.”

“I do,” he said, not breaking their gaze. “C’mon, you know I’m right. Last thing you need right now is us starting something up like this. Didn’t you tell me your first doctor appointment is tomorrow?”

She didn’t like it, and wasn’t sure she fully agreed with it, but had to admit she’d thought along those lines herself before his kisses had turned her brain to mush and her insides to jelly. With a heavy sigh, she nodded and pulled back from him. “Pretty early, in fact. I should go inside and get into bed.”

Logan growled, his head falling back against the leather seat. “Had to put an image like that in my head right before you leave. You, climbing into bed . . . not nice, Tess. Not nice.”

She laughed lightly, and he grinned back at her. Their eyes held for a long beat and she took a slow, deep breath, exhaling it before she said, “Good night, Logan. Thanks again for a great day.”

“Back at you,” he said. “Good night, Tess. Sleep well. Good luck tomorrow.”

With a sweet smile, she climbed out of his truck and into the cold night.

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About Jennifer Gracen

Jennifer Gracen hails from Long Island, New York, where she lives with her two sons. After spending her youth writing in private and singing in public, she now only sings in her car and is immersed in her passion for writing. She loves to write contemporary romance for readers who look for authentic characters and satisfying endings. When she isn’t with her kids, doing freelance proofreading, or chatting on Twitter and Facebook, Jennifer writes. She’s already hard at work on her next book.

Connect with Jennifer: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Google+

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Spotlight: Widow of Papina by Katie Hamstead

Widow of Papina
Katie Hamstead
Published by: Soul Mate Publishing
Publication date: December 2017
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Romance

Forrest and Braydon Miller moved to the small town of Papina to follow their dreams and start a family. Braydon loves her new life in the quiet town, kept alive by the prestigious boarding school overlooking the valley. She is so proud of her husband’s work, helping the teens on the reservation.

Until one day, Forrest doesn’t come home.

Scandal spreads when it’s discovered that one of the teenagers is missing, too. But, Braydon refuses to believe her husband would leave her. When the teen is found, she isn’t talking–literally.

While Braydon’s heart is breaking, she must hold her crumbling life together, raise her son, trust in the Sheriff’s loyal, and ever-growing devotion, and find a way to love the MUTE teenager enough to discover the truth of what happened to her husband.

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Author Bio:

Born and raised in Australia, Katie's early years of day dreaming in the "bush", and having her father tell her wild bedtime stories, inspired her passion for writing.
After graduating High School, she became a foreign exchange student where she met a young man who several years later she married. Now she lives in Arizona with her husband, daughter and their dog.
She has a diploma in travel and tourism which helps inspire her writing.
When her debut novel, Kiya: Hope of the Pharaoh, climbed into bestselling status, she believed she was onto something, and now has a slew of novels now available, and is published through Curiosity Quills Press, Soul Mate Publishing, and REUTS Publishing.
Katie loves to out sing her friends and family, play sports, and be a good wife and mother. She now works as an Acquisitions Editor to help support her family. She loves to write, and takes the few spare moments in her day to work on her novels.

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Spotlight: The Duke Knows Best by Jane Ashford

They're wrong for each other, for all the right reasons...

Lord Randolph Gresham has come to London for one reason only-to find a suitable wife. Verity Sinclair may be intelligent, beautiful, and full of spirit, but her father knows a secret about Randolph that makes her entirely unsuitable as his bride. Not right for him at all, never, not a chance.

Verity knows that Lord Randolph lives in a country parish, and she wants nothing more than to escape to town. He may be fascinating, attractive, rich, and the son of a duke, but she'll never marry him, nor will she talk to him, flirt with him, walk with him, or dine with him. She'll sing a duet with him, but only this one time, and only because everyone insists.

But one duet invariably leads to another.

Excerpt

Looking around the front hall of Langford House, with its soaring stair and rich marble floor, Verity judged it the grandest house she’d ever entered. Light poured down from high windows, glittered in a huge crystal chandelier, and gleamed in the gold stripes of the wallpaper. A hint of potpourri scented the air, along with beeswax and lemon. The clatter of the London streets didn’t penetrate the gracious silence. “Goodness,” murmured her mother. Verity was determined not to be intimidated.

A liveried footman led them through two beautiful reception rooms to the back of the house. He opened a door and stood back. Verity and her mother stepped over the threshold into a perfectly splendid music room. For a moment Verity forgot everything else as she took in the fine instruments waiting to be played, the older ones adorning the walls, and the piles of expensive sheet music. She could spend hours in a place like this and be blissfully happy, she thought.

And then a tall, stately woman came forward to greet them, and Verity was making her curtsy to the duchess, as well as wondering where Lord Randolph could be.

He hurried in on the heels of that thought. “I beg your pardon,” he said. “I was just... Mama, this is Mrs. Sinclair and Miss Verity Sinclair. Ladies, my mother.”

“Your Grace,” they murmured.

The duchess said, “Welcome to Langford House.” And with the warmth in her blue eyes and the ease of her smile, Verity felt the atmosphere in the room change from grandiose to relaxed. Or perhaps it was simply her own mood that had shifted, she thought. As they sat down and exchanged remarks about the weather and the season, she found she could talk to Lord Randolph’s mother with surprising ease.

“I know you have musical matters to discuss,” said the duchess after a while. She rose. “I will leave you to it. But I wanted to make sure you have all you need, Mrs. Sinclair.”

“You’re very kind.”

“I’ve seen to the arrangements, Mama,” said Lord Randolph.

“Sponge cakes and macaroons?” she asked.

“What else?”

The humorous look they exchanged gave Verity a glimpse into the Gresham family, which seemed a pleasant place. The door opened, and a maid came in with several sturdy working candles. “You said you’d bring some embroidery,” said Lord Randolph to Verity’s mother. “I wanted to make certain you had good light.”

The duchess gave him an approving nod and went out. Lord Randolph made a great production of getting Verity’s mother settled with the candles set just so and a cushion for her back and offers of tea or other refreshment. “So kind,” she murmured as she was settled in the front corner of the room.

Verity noticed that it was the corner farthest from the pianoforte. And that the special candles and cushions—which a less observant person might dismiss as finicky items for a man to consider—effectively rooted Mama at a distance. It was unlikely that she would overhear much of what they said, unless they started shouting. Which she might, if Lord Randolph tried to maneuver her in a similar way. And where had he acquired such skill at diverting chaperones?

“I’ve pulled out piles of music,” he said when they were at last free to begin. He led the way over to the table where the sheets were displayed. “I was thinking we should choose popular pieces rather than anything too complicated. Perhaps even repeat the song we did at Lady Tolland’s.”

Their eyes met, mirroring memories of that astonishing experience. Verity’s cheeks grew hot. A self-conscious silence stretched out. She could actually hear her mother’s needle prick the embroidery canvas.

Lord Randolph cleared his throat. “Ah, our audience at Carleton House will be varied,” he went on. “Not all will be particularly musical. But I’m eager to hear your opinion about the program, of course.”

He stopped and waited for her to speak. He gazed at her as if he actually wanted to know her views, and wasn’t just pausing to give the appearance of listening before telling her what to do. It was a point in his favor. “What about some Italian songs, varied with Scots or Irish ballads?” she suggested. “How long need we sing, do you think?”

“Long enough to satisfy the prince’s wounded vanity,” he responded wryly.

Verity looked down to hide a smile. “That sounds rather difficult to measure. An hour?”

“No more, certainly. We are doing a favor, not putting on a full concert. Shall we say six pieces? With one in reserve in case they insist on more?”

Verity agreed, and they looked through Mozart’s and Haydn’s arrangements of popular tunes and sheets of songs by Robert Burns and Thomas Moore. Langford House appeared to possess any piece one could desire, and Verity envied the bounty. She had to ration her purchases of sheet music on her allowance. The money her grandfather had left her was in trust until she married. And why was she thinking of that now? “‘Robin Adair’ would make a lovely base for a set of variations,” she said.

They bent over the music together. “It would indeed,” said Lord Randolph. He sat at the pianoforte and began to play the simple melody, and then to embellish it. Verity hummed along, following his elaborations. “Just here,” he said, playing intricate series of notes. She caught the idea at once. Spontaneously they sang a verse with the new adornments, their voices blending in a twining harmony. By the end they were staring at each other, mutually astonished.

“Very pretty,” said Verity’s mother from the corner.

It was as if he could predict exactly what she meant to sing, Verity thought. Or, perhaps, his musical impulses ran in precisely the same direction. The phrase in tune took on a whole new meaning as they ran through the entire song, consulted briefly, and then tried it again. The result was equally lovely and interesting, but different with the varying choices of the moment. This must be what it was like to be intoxicated, she thought, as she fell into the music and a give and take with this man she barely knew— somehow they vibrated to the same pitch.

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About the Author

Jane Ashford discovered Georgette Heyer in junior high school and was captivated by the glittering world and witty language of Regency England. That delight was part of what led her to study English literature and travel widely in Britain and Europe. She has written historical and contemporary romances, and her books have been published in Sweden, Italy, England, Denmark, France, Russia, Latvia, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, and Spain, as well as the United States. Jane has been nominated for a Career Achievement Award by RT Book Reviews. She lives in Beverly Hills, CA.

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Spotlight: Run Away With Me by Mila Gray

Run Away With Me
Mila Gray
(Come Back to Me #3)
Published by: Simon Pulse
Publication date: November 28th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Emerson Lowe and popular ice-hockey player Jake McCallister have been best friends since third grade but just as their friendship starts to morph into something more, a terrible event occurs that heralds the end of innocence for both of them. Within a week, Jake’s living on the other side of the country and Emerson is left alone to pick up the pieces of her life in a small town determined to paint her as a liar.

Seven years on and Emerson is still living on the beautiful Pacific West island of Bainbridge, helping her family run their outdoor adventure company. The last thing she needs is Jake turning up, bringing with him old memories and opening up old wounds. But Jake—even better looking than Emerson remembered and on the cusp of a bright sporting future—seems determined to revive their friendship no matter how much Emerson tries to push him away and soon they’re in the midst of a passionate summer romance that neither of them wants to end.

But if they’re to have any kind of future, they’re first going to need to confront the past, a past that most people want to stay buried.

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—

EXCERPT:

I hear a voice behind me.

‘Need some help with that?’

I spin around.

It takes a couple of seconds for my brain to confirm that it’s actually him. That it’s actually Jake McCallister standing in front of me and not a hallucination. My heart does this fierce smash and rebound against my ribs as though it’s been violently woken from hibernation. I draw in a breath so big it feels like my lungs might explode, as if all that air is filling a vacuum and I’ll never be able to let it out again.

I hate this feeling. Hate the way the adrenaline floods my blood stream and tears sting my eyes. Hate the way my body reacts in a thousand contradictory ways at the sight of him, as though someone has plugged me into a wrong socket and fried all my synapses.

I have an impulse to throw myself at him but I’m not sure if it’s because I want to hug him or beat the living crap out of him. I drop the kayak, my hands fisting automatically at my sides.

I watch the smile on his lips fade when he notices the set of my jaw. His expression had started off wary but now I see him swallow and press his lips together, something he always does when he’s nervous.

I take note of that and at the same time notice a dozen other tiny, insignificant, monumental details about this new old Jake. I see the faded white scar on his chin—the one I gave him and the new scar cutting across his eyebrow. Then there’s his height – we were always the same height but now he’s tall. . . much taller than me. His dark brown hair is the same, though – unruly, untamed, falling in his eyes. He’s looking at me with the same mix of uncertainty that he looked at me the very last time I saw him.

I glance away, down at the sand. My whole body is shaking and I can’t seem to get it under control.

‘Em?’ I hear him say.

My head flies up before I can stop it. No one calls me that any more. His voice is deeper, mellower. The inflection though when he says my name is still just the same… and instantly something inside me starts coming undone. Jake always used to say my name like it belonged to him, and only him.

Author Bio:

Mila Gray is the pen name for Sarah Alderson, author of Hunting Lila, Losing Lila, The Sound, Fated and Out of Control.

Originally from London she has lived in Bali for the last four years with her husband and daughter.

As well as writing young adult fiction under the name Sarah Alderson and adult fiction under the name Mila Gray, she also writes screenplays.

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Cover Reveal: Voice of the Falconer & Fortune's Fool by David Blixt

Feast your eyes upon the new covers for Voice of the Falconer and Fortune’s Fool, books #2 and #3 in Blixt’s Star-Cross’d series!

Based on the plays of William Shakespeare, the poetry of Dante, and the history of Italy, the Star-Cross’d Series is a tale of wars won, friendships lost, and conspiracies both mortal and stellar, an epic journey into the birth of the Renaissance that recalls the best of Bernard Cornwell and Dorothy Dunnett.

Voice Of The Falconer (Star-Cross’d #2)

Italy, 1325. Eight years after the tumultuous events of THE MASTER OF VERONA, Pietro Alaghieri is living as an exile in Ravenna, enduring the loss of his famous father while secretly raising the bastard heir to Verona’s prince, Cangrande della Scala.

But when word of Cangrande’s death reaches him, Pietro must race back to Verona to prevent young Cesco’s rivals from usurping his rightful place. With the tentative peace of Italy at stake, not to mention their lives, Pietro must act swiftly to protect them all. But young Cesco is determined not to be anyone’s pawn. Willful and brilliant, he defies even the stars. And far behind the scenes is a mastermind pulling the strings, one who stands to lose – or gain – the most.

Born from Shakespeare’s Italian plays, in this novel we meet for the first time Romeo, Juliet, Tybalt, the Nurse, as well as revisit Montague and Capulet, Petruchio and Kate, and the money-lending Shylock. From Ravenna to Verona, Mantua to Venice, this novel explores the danger, deceit, and deviltry of early Renaissance Italy, and the terrible choices one must make just to stay alive.

Fortune’s Fool (Star-Cross’d #3)

Italy, 1326. While the brilliant and wily Cesco is schooled in his new duties at the hand of a hard master, Pietro Alaghieri travels to Avignon, current seat of the Papacy, to fight his excommunication and plead for Cesco’s legitimacy. He doesn’t know an old foe has been waiting to ruin Pietro’s life and seize control of Verona for himself.

Back in Verona, separated from everyone he trusts, Cesco must confront his ambitious cousin, a mysterious young killer, and the Holy Roman Emperor himself. A harrowing series of adventures reveal a secret long hidden, one that threatens Cesco’s only chance for true happiness.

Inspired by Shakespeare, Dante, and Petrarch, full of Renaissance intrigue and passion, this third novel in Blixt’s acclaimed Star-Cross’d series reflects the heights of drama, exploring the capricious whims of lady Fortune, who has her favorites – and her fools.

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About the Author

David Blixt‘s work is consistently described as “intricate,” “taut,” and “breathtaking.” A writer of Historical Fiction, his novels span the early Roman Empire (the COLOSSUS series, his play EVE OF IDES) to early Renaissance Italy (the STAR-CROSS’D series) up through the Elizabethan era (his delightful espionage comedy HER MAJESTY’S WILL, starring Will Shakespeare and Kit Marlowe as inept spies). His novels combine a love of the theatre with a deep respect for the quirks and passions of history.

Living in Chicago with his wife and two children, he describes himself as “actor, author, father, husband. In reverse order.”

For more information, please visit David Blixt’s website. You can also find him on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.

David Blixt