Spotlight: Feisty by Julia Kent

Feisty
Julia Kent
(Do-Over Series, #3)
Publication date: January 28th 2020
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

I’m not too proud to admit that finding Mr. Right involves swiping right. Right? Welcome to dating in avocado toastland.

Here I am, on my first blind date, ever, courtesy of a smartphone app and my two annoying best friends.

So what is Chris “Fletch” Fletcher doing, walking across the room, looking at his phone like he’s pattern matching a picture to find a real person he’s never met before?

Oh.

Oh, no.

The guy I drop-kicked in seventh grade cannot be my blind date. The guy who earned me this infernal nickname.

That’s right.

Feisty.


More from New York Times bestselling author Julia Kent as Fiona “Feisty” Gaskill gets her chance at love – drop-kick included.

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EXCERPT:

“Fletch?” I gasp as Perky smiles and walks away, abandoning me in my time of need.

“Hey, Fiona. What’re you doing here?” He looks down at my drink. “Nice penis.”

“Excuse me?”

He points to my chai latte. “Perky did a good job. I was in here last week and she made some beautiful flower patterns on my latte.” He frowns, then his eyebrows shoot up. “Hold on. Those weren’t flowers, were they?”

I laugh.

“Wow. And they seemed so… detailed. And gorgeous.”

My sides are splitting.

“Please… stop… flowers…” I gasp.

“That latte did give me a sudden desire to go to a Georgia O’Keeffe show, though.”

I rush to take a sip of my chai latte and make the penis go away. Fletch watches me, mouth spreading into a wider grin, his green eyes shining as he crosses his arms over his chest.

It’s only then that I realize he’s wearing real clothes. A crisp, light purple dress shirt, open at the neck, tucked into khahis. He has actual leather shoes – and not for weight lifting or cross-training – on his feet. His hair is styled but not sticky, and he has a close, clean shave.

His aftershave is divine.

“You’re not in workout gear. Or a paramedic’s uniform,” I say as I blot the foam on the tip of my nose, wondering if it’s ruined my makeup.

“And you look lovely tonight. A little overdressed for a Beanerino latte with Perky,” he says, waving to her from across the room as she swings a hand towel in the air like she’s a date-night air traffic controller.

“I have a date.”

“So do I.”

“You don’t have a man bun, do you?”

He looks down at his crotch. “Is that like camel toe for guys?”


Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 19 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French and German, with more titles releasing in 2020 and beyond.

From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire she met in a romantic comedy).

She lives in New England with her husband and three children where she is the only person in the household with the gene required to change empty toilet paper rolls.

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Spotlight: Shopping for a Billionaire Boxed Set by Julia Kent

Shopping for a Billionaire Boxed Set
Julia Kent
(Shopping Box, #2)
Publication date: May 26th 2019
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

A BUNDLE OF LAUGHTER FROM NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR JULIA KENT

Get books 6 (Shopping for a Billionaire’s Fiancee), 7 (Shopping for a CEO) and 8 (Shopping for a Billionaire’s Wife) in one BIG bundle of laughter, community, and – of course – romance in Julia Kent’s New York Times bestselling series.

Audiobook lovers can also get all three books in one big, 26-hour-long bundle! Narrated by Zachary Webber, Amy McFadden and Tanya Eby. Give your ears something to look forward to!

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99¢ for a limited time only (reg $9.99) and 24 hour audio Whispersync for $7.49!

EXCERPTS:

Shopping for a Billionaire’s Fiancee:

Shannon has a key to my place, and as I walk in the door I see candlelight. Flickering flame is to a man what Ben & Jerry’s is to a woman.

A sign of a sure thing.

“Shannon?” I call out, following the disorganized scatter of lit candles in the living room. Shadows dance on the wall in my hallway, and I round the corner to my bedroom to find her, spread out on my bed, wearing garters, stockings, the red corset, and—

She’s asleep.

That’s okay. I can work with asleep.

I can’t work with absent.

You’d be surprised how fast a man can undress when under the complete control of testicles so full they look like a case of mumps. I’m out of my clothes in seventeen sec-onds or so (who’s counting?) and on the bed, my hands taking in her prone body. I’m allowed to touch. We have an unwritten rule. It goes something like this:

Touch Shannon.

It’s a simple rule.

Her skin is so soft, my fingers scraping against the rolling contour of her inner thigh, from knee to heaven. The whorls of ridges on my fingertips feel like raw sandpaper against her porcelain flesh. My breathing slows, eyes adjusting to the dim light, taking in her body. How did I ever get so lucky?

From Toilet Girl to Mrs. McCormick in eighteen months.

Shopping for a CEO:

It’s Andrew McCormick.

Oh, sweet holy hell.

I haven’t seen him in months. Haven’t kissed him since we were in the emergency room after my best friend, Shannon, swallowed the engagement ring his brother, Declan, gave to her as he proposed.

(A tip: don’t bury a three-carat diamond ring in a piece of tiramisu at a fancy restaurant as a way of proposing to a woman. Any woman. Why ruin the dessert like that?)

I’m the maid of honor for the wedding. Andrew is the best man. We’ve managed to avoid each other so far, but the wedding is three months away. I knew this day was coming.

But I didn’t expect it to be today.

My heart starts skipping beats as I take him in from afar, shielded by the angle of my bench. He has no idea I’m watching him. Thick hair, cut short and with the kind of layered sophistication that only comes from a stylist who charges three figures. Shaded eyes that I know are sharp and smoldering, a blend of brown and honey that makes you melt inside. He’s in a full suit, tie still snug against his neck, the moonlight reflecting off a white shirt. His grin is contagious, making my own smile widen as I tilt my head and let myself get lost in wondering.

Shopping for a Billionaire’s Wife:

As we walk into the lounge, every single pair of eyes swivels to take us in.

“Why are they staring at us?” I ask Declan, clutching his arm.

“Because you’re wearing a wedding dress and I look like something out of a BBC documentary?” he answers smoothly.

I look down at myself. Look over at him. Take in the kilt, the socks covering his calves, the laces on his special Scottish shoes.

“Oh.”

One of the patrons, a man who is sitting next to a woman who looks like an adventurous traveler and not a mannequin on a rich man’s arm, points to the television, then back to us.

“You two on the run?”

Declan frowns and pulls me closer to the television.

Where someone is interviewing my mother.

Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three children.

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Spotlight: Decisions: Practical Advice from 23 Men and Women Who Shaped the World by Robert L. Dilenschneider

Decisions includes a foreword from Steve Forbes and afterword by Klaus Schwab, Founder and Executive Chairman, World Economic Forum.

Sorting out our lives amidst chaos, confusion, and innumerable options is a process we all have in common. The decisions we ultimately make can affect our lives and the lives of others. It’s not always easy. In this empowering guide, business strategy expert Robert L. Dilenschneider shares the choices of notable, visionary decision-makers—from Harry Truman and Henry Ford to Marie Curie and Malala Yousafzai—and explains how you can apply their principles to your own personal and professional real-life scenarios.

Resolve, patience, and practical thinking—take it from these politicians, scientists, economists, inventors, entrepreneurs, theologians, activists, and commanders of war and peace. Their inspiring counsel will give you the tools you need to help change your life. Both big and small, your choices can shape the minutes, days, weeks, and years ahead. This book is the first motivating step in the right direction.

Excerpt

Excerpted from DECISIONS by Robert L. Dilenschneider. Reprinted with permission from Kensington Books. Copyright © 2020 Robert L. Dilenschneider.

But there was no decision to make. This was my calling. Some powerful force had come to dwell inside me, something bigger and stronger than me. —Malala Yousafzai

Malala Yousafzai, as the world knows, was shot in the head by the Taliban on October 9, 2012, as she rode home on the school bus in the Swat Valley, Pakistan. Malala was fifteen at the time. She survived the attack, recuperated in England, and has continued her education. She was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2014 for her “struggle against the suppression of children and young people and for the right of all children to education.” 

Can a child, an adolescent, a young person—make a world-changing decision? Is someone ever too young? 

Let’s take a look at Malala’s story, because none of this came out of the blue. The “struggle” the Nobel Committee cited, was a decision that was so deeply embedded into her character that, at age fifteen, it had already become her way of life. And continues to be. 

Seemingly from birth, Malala loved education. Her biographical material makes much of the fact that she sought to emulate her father, Ziauddin Yousafzai, who was so dedicated to education that he had founded his own school, the one she attended. Such “private” schools are not uncommon in Pakistan. 

But Ziauddin’s school and his outspoken daughter became special targets of the Taliban. The fundamentalist group had issued an edict against educating girls and death threats against the entire family (mother Toor Pekai Yousafzai and two sons). The school was forced to close for a time and had re-opened shortly before Malala was shot. 

You might say that the child was merely following the example—or the dictates—of the father (who was supported in all endeavors by the mother). That the child made no decisions on her own. That happens in families all the time. I can think of many examples in my own life—involving my parents and the decisions they made for me when I was young, and about how my wife and I did the same for our sons. None of these decisions involved defying the Taliban and bringing danger to our family. But, that may not be the right way to look at what Ziauddin did. Were his decisions part of doing what parents claim we always try to do—leading by example? 

Do you ever think about the phrase “an accident of birth”? It means that none of us are responsible for the circumstances of our birth—who our parents are, our family, our nationality or state or town, our genetic make-up, economic status and so on. 

Among the things that Malala was not responsible for: That she was a first-born daughter in a culture that values boys over girls; that she was born into a troubled country being over-run by violent extremists. But it was also an accident of birth that she had two parents who were, by all accounts, as dedicated to her welfare, education, and growth as they were to that of her two younger brothers. It seems to me that Malala took what she was given and decided to run with it. 

By the time she was shot in 2012, Malala had shown by her own example that she recognized her “accident of birth.” Her dedication to education for girls was in fact her own decision based on parental example. Consider her words, written just a year later in her autobiography:

“I was very lucky to be born to a father who respected my freedom of thought and expression and made me part of his peace caravan and a mother who not only encouraged me but my father too in our campaign for peace and education.”

At an even younger age than fifteen, Malala was already an ardent activist. She blogged for the BBC on the oppressions of life under the Taliban and was the subject of a New York Times documentary. She made speeches often, including one entitled “How dare the Taliban take away my right to an education.” The year before she was shot, she won both the International Children’s Peace Prize and Pakistan’s first Youth Peace Prize. As the Taliban’s noose ever tightened around her country, her family, and her safety, Malala’s outspokenness and visibility grew. As she wrote in her autobiography, “I decided I wasn’t going to cower in fear of [the Taliban’s] wrath.” 

In the years since she survived the Taliban assassination attempt, Malala has become a global symbol for the cause of education for girls specifically and for the welfare of all children. Not even a year after she was shot, she addressed the “Youth Takeover” at the United Nations. Two years almost to the day after she was shot, the Nobel Committee announced that she would share the 2014 Peace Prize with Kailash Satyarthi, who made his name with international peaceful protests on behalf of children. Even with constant visibility while traveling the world to event after event, she completed the studies necessary to be accepted in 2017 into Oxford University (which fact she announced on her new Twitter account). Also in 2017, Malala was designated a United Nations Messenger of Peace “to help raise awareness of the importance of girls’ education.”

Malala is still enveloped in the support of her family, which left Pakistan to settle in the UK. The Economist, noting that “Pakistani education has long been atrocious,” included the following in a detailed and dismal examination of the current status:

“From 2007 to 2015 there were 167 attacks by Islamic terrorists on education institutions . . .  When it controlled the Swat River valley in the north of the country, the Pakistani Taliban closed hundreds of girls’ schools. When the army retook the area it occupied dozens of them itself.”

Malala has written two books. The first, I Am Malala, was published a year after her shooting and tells, with the help of writer Christina Lamb, of her early life in Pakistan and the event that put her onto a new trajectory. Published in 2017, the second book is for children, Malala’s Magic Pencil. In it, young Malala yearns for a special pencil that would let her do all sorts of special, interesting things, including drawing “a lock on my door, so my brothers couldn’t bother me.” I think every child wants a lock like that. Eventually, she describes what we adults will recognize as an intention, a determination, a decision: “I knew then that if I had a magic pencil, I would use it to draw a better world, a peaceful world.” 

Time will tell us how Malala’s decisions as a girl, a teenager, a young adult, and into the future will all play out, how world-changing they will be. My hope is that the answer is— immensely.

Malala’s story offers all of us one overarching lesson about decision-making that will help us all lead better lives:

If you are a parent or other adult in a position to influence children and young people, remember how important your own example is. The decisions you make on behalf of others may turn out to be the template that helps form their lives. 

If that’s all you glean, that’s enough. But there are many other lessons to take:

1. Have courage to do the right thing, whether it is large or small. 

2. Understand you may be attacked and plan for that in advance. I mean physically attacked, as well as the more expected verbal criticisms. 

3. Recognize you may be a symbol for others and prepare for that in ways they will embrace and admire. And behave that way. 

4. Follow your decision. Give it a chance to shape your life. 

5. Do not give up.  

6. Depend on each other. Know whom you can trust, and be that trustworthy person to others to the best of your ability. 

7. Seek education and take every other opportunity to broaden your knowledge of the world and its people.

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About the Author

Robert L. Dilenschneider has hired more than 3,000 successful professionals, and advised thousands more. He is founder of The Dilenschneider Group, a corporate strategic counseling and public relations firm based in New York City. Formerly president and CEO of Hill & Knowlton, he is the author of the bestselling books Power and Influence, A Briefing for Leaders, On Power and newly released Decisions: Practical Advice from 23 Men and Women Who Shaped the World. For more information, please visit https://robertldilenschneider.com   

Spotlight: When Hope Ends by Freya Barker

When Hope Ends (life begins)
Freya Barker
Publication date: January 21st 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

It’s the best day of his life–the worst of hers.

She left her soul behind in the dead silence of a hospital room.
He is bright with hope after being so close to losing faith.

One moment in time leaves their paths unavoidably entwined.

An invisible connection held by one heart beating between them.

***Previously part of the anthology; Then There Was You.

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EXCERPT:

I pull myself up and run my hands through my hair as I walk down the steps. There I turn back to her. “Stay.”

Her eyes brim with tears. “But the risk is—”

“Every day you get out of bed is a risk. You and I know better than most how true that is. Whether you’re here, or somewhere else, won’t make a difference once the truth is out there. If they dig they could still find us, and all those other families. Leaving won’t serve any purpose.” I’ve been pacing back and forth, but on my last words I stop and face her.

“I don’t know what the smart thing is to do.”

She wrings her hands in her lap and her teeth are biting her bottom lip so hard I’m afraid she’ll break the skin.

I’ll examine why it’s so important to keep her here later, but for now I place my hands on the stair railing to brace myself, and lean forward, my nose almost touching hers.

“Stay.”

Author Bio:

Award-winning author Freya Barker loves writing about ordinary people with extraordinary stories.
Driven to make her books about 'real' people; she creates characters who are perhaps less than perfect, each struggling to find their own slice of happy, but just as deserving of romance, thrills and chills in their lives.

Recipient of the ReadFREE.ly 2019 Best Book We've Read All Year Award for "Covering Ollie, the 2015 RomCon “Reader’s Choice” Award for Best First Book, “Slim To None”, and Finalist for the 2017 Kindle Book Award with “From Dust”, Freya continues to add to her rapidly growing collection of published novels as she spins story after story with an endless supply of bruised and dented characters, vying for attention!

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Spotlight: Must Love Forever by Leigh Lennon

Bianca checked all the things for a wonderful life off her list, but always longed for something different. Mick knows that not everything is meant to be. When tragedy strikes the two finally have a shot at a second chance at love. Readers will love this friends-to-lovers romance from Leigh Lennon. The 425 Madison series is back with season two and MUST LOVE FOREVER is now live! 

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Bianca

Handsome husband—check. 

Beautiful house—check. 

Wonderful life...I could never put a check next to this. 

Through it all, I longed for a different life. With a man I had called my best friend. A man who is not my husband. 

When the unspeakable happens and I’m left alone, its Mick who is there to pick me up. 

Mick

Not everything is meant to be. 

Watching the woman who owned my heart start a life with someone else - broke me to the core.

But time goes on and I try too. 

Until one phone call changes both our lives. 

She could have been taken from me forever. Instead, a tragic accident takes away the only man I thought ever made her happy. 

When she starts over again, in my city, in my home; sharing slivers of her story with me it's then that I learn not everything is as it appears. 

None of this matters though, when I’ve been given a second chance to prove we’re meant to be.

After all, 425 Madison is the perfect place to fall in love.

Excerpt 

Copyright @ Liegh Lennon 2020

I’m asleep, or at least I’m faking sleep very well when the door creaks open. Her footsteps move closer and closer, coming around the foot of the bed, pulling the covers back. The second she does, I roll over, bringing her in close to me. But tonight, I don’t care about the beast of my erection poking into her backside. Does she not know what she does to me?

We never speak in bed. We never speak of her sleeping with me. And I’m not sure if I should break our protocol to tell her how much I want her. It goes deeper—she’s shattered, and I don’t know how to fix her, but I desperately want to. 

I come as close to the olive complexion of her back as I can get, and she doesn’t wiggle out of the touch of my erection. The little tease backs her ass closer into it, and it makes me inhale long and deep, exhaling on the back of her neck. She relaxes farther into me, and I can’t resist her, not for a second longer.

I pepper kisses onto her neck, as her hand snakes back over her hip to my cock. The second her fingers make contact with it, though it’s covered by my boxers, my kisses speed up, my own fingers dipping into her low cut tank top. The same whimper she emitted earlier has returned and I push her to her back, bracing myself over her. I should say something, ask her what she wants. When our eyes connect, and we can see each other by the moonlight streaming in, she takes her finger, covering my lips, telling me there will be no talking. With a nod of her head, it’s her way of telling me this is what she wants, and I lower my face to hers, taking control of her mouth.

Her tongue scrapes at my teeth, and she playfully bites the lower part of my lip. Oh, shit, this is sexy as hell. My hands are pushing me up, as to not squish her tiny body. In one fluid motion, I roll over, bringing her with me, her body resting on mine. She’s so light, she won’t hurt me. My arms are wrapped around her, but I can’t resist exploring her whole body. My hands come to rest on her ass when I sneak my fingers between her skin and skimpy shorts. 

Squeezing her pert ass, causes my erection to continue to barrel into her body. Scooting to her side, still on me, she pulls my cock through my boxers. I emit another harsh departure of air, only to suck it in again when her hand wraps around my cock, stroking it from the base to the tip.

I intend on telling her what she’s doing is right—what this is with us is perfect, but I can’t. It’s not what we do, not in the confines of my bed. 

When she moves her body from mine, I miss her warmth but I don’t have to wait long when the tip of her tongue starts to suck up the precum of my cock. Her tongue connects with me, and my body relaxes into what this is, because it’s Bia and the two of us together are unstoppable.

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About Leigh 

Leigh Lennon is a mother, veteran and a wife of a cancer survivor. Originally with a degree in education, she started writing as an outlet that has led to a deep passion. She lugs her computer with her as she crafts her next story. One could say she loves pretty nails, big earrings, and spiky hair. She can be found drinking coffee or wine, depending on the time of the day.

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Spotlight: Finding Our Morning by Mickie B. Ashling

Finding Our Morning
Mickie B. Ashling
Publication date: January 28th 2020
Genres: Adult, Historical, Mystery

May 1977

Ginny Tate bides her time on the family stud farm in San Antonio, Texas, waiting to start veterinarian school in the fall. Bullied as an adolescent, she’s finally shed her old skin, but the emerging beauty still harbors insecurities and would rather hang out with horses than people.

Sponsored by his uncle, the Shah of Iran, Dariush—David—Akbari, a twenty-five-year-old NYU grad with a degree in International Law, is also a skilled polo player. He joins the royal traveling team for a tournament in Plano, Texas.

A decade in America has gradually altered David’s views on certain aspects of his culture. Torn between familial obligations and his adopted country, David resists the idea of returning to Iran so soon after graduation.

At the traditional after-party, David strikes up a conversation with Ginny, who is refreshingly honest. He receives an invitation to visit Tate Stud Farm and, on the pretext of buying another polo pony, persuades the shah to make a detour.

Great horsemanship coupled with self-effacing charm sets David apart from the entitled braggarts who normally populate the sport, and Ginny falls hard. His visit turns into a life-changing week that neither can foresee. Will they walk away unscathed or live to regret their impulsive behavior?

Inspired by events preceding the fall of the Pahlavi dynasty, Finding Our Morning is a love story that catapults us from Texas Hill Country to the epicenter of a monarchy on the brink of collapse.

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EXCERPT:

So much time had elapsed since Ginny issued the invitation, she didn’t know what to expect when David called two weeks later to arrange a meeting. Was he passing through town or was this an intentional stop? Either way, the days leading up to his arrival were pure torture.

On the morning in question, Ginny took longer than necessary to get ready. She left her hair loose instead of tying it back in her usual ponytail. Her luxurious locks were the only thing she could count on to draw eyes away from her face. The dark blond strands fell in a silky curtain to her midback and had been compared to a palomino’s coat on many occasions. As for the rest of her, it was business as usual. Faded jeans, a checked cotton shirt, and her favorite red cowboy boots. Her complexion was clear this morning, thank God, and she took her time applying eye makeup. It was out of the ordinary to get dolled up during the day, and her parents noticed as soon as she sat down to breakfast.

“Going to a party?” Margery asked.

“No, but you know the Shah of Iran is about to grace our doorstep, and I thought I’d look nice for a change.”

“You always look good,” Ray commented. “Anyone who thinks otherwise is a blind fool.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“What about your chores?” Margery inquired. “Won’t your hair get in the way?”

“I’ll get ’em done,” Ginny promised.

“See that you do,” Margery replied. “I know you want to make a good impression, sweetie, but those foreigners aren’t coming to socialize. We have to present our best, and a clean, well-organized farm is just as important as our livestock. You wouldn’t eat in a dirty kitchen.”

“For Christ’s sake, Marge. Leave the girl alone.”

“Seriously, Mom. You’re overreacting as usual.”

“Then explain why you look more like a debutante than a rancher’s daughter this morning?”

“He offered dinner and dancing the last time we were together. I don’t want him to change his mind.”

Aghast, Margery exclaimed, “The shah?”

“God no,” Ginny said. “David.”

“Which one is he again?”

“Their number-three player.”

“He was good,” Margery recalled.

“Right?”

“What are you going to wear tonight?”

“I’m not sure it’s happening, but I bought a new dress in case.”

“What color is it?”

“Black.”

“You’re too young to wear black,” Margery opined with a tsk.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Give it a rest, Mom. I’m eighteen.”

“Black is more appropriate for someone older and more experienced.”

Ginny refused to take the bait. Her mother was being overprotective, given her dating history, and was understandably worried. Nonetheless, it was too early in the morning to argue. She scooped up the last of her egg yolk on a piece of toast, swallowed it down with orange juice, and stood up to go. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

Standing on the steps outside the kitchen door, she paused and scanned the horizon. The sun was already a bright ball of pulsing heat in the cloudless blue sky, and she could tell it was going to be another scorcher. Ginny hoped the Iranians had the good sense to come early to avoid the worst of it.

As she headed toward the stable where they kept the horses for sale, she scrutinized their property and tried to see it through the eyes of a stranger. Theirs was a small operation compared to other stud farms, but they had a stellar reputation. Margery Tate was the driving force behind their prosperity. The woman was a stickler for order and quick to remind new employees that pride in ownership was as important as a good pedigree.

Margery acquired her code of ethics from her parents who’d started the stud farm with one stallion and a few mares. As their only child, she’d inherited the bulk of the estate, with small portions divided among the loyal ranch hands who had been around until her father finally passed, a year and a day after her mother died of cancer. Her gender had never been a good enough excuse to avoid the hard work necessary to ensure the success of the farm, and Margery expected her only daughter to work as tirelessly as the rest of them.

She did have a point, Ginny conceded begrudgingly, but her advice was often framed in criticism, which usually rubbed people the wrong way. Horse breeding could be a messy business when things got out of hand, and organization was key.

She made the rounds swiftly this morning, inspecting each area with a critical eye, paying particular attention to the horses for sale. This would be their first stop and she wanted the area to be in tip-top shape. She could only imagine what the royal stables must look like with dozens of helpers at the shah’s beck and call. Well, they might not have his manpower, but over the years, the stud farm had gained a well-earned reputation for their excellent stock and integrity.

By the time the shah and his entourage arrived two hours later, her nerves were frayed. The group of six, dressed in casual attire, climbed out of a gleaming limousine. Ginny wasn’t sure what to expect, given their status, but these men looked like any prospective buyer, albeit better dressed. Her parents greeted the Iranians deferentially and offered to be their guides as they toured the premises. While they concentrated on the shah, Ginny walked up to David with an outstretched hand.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

“Was there any doubt?” he asked, stepping forward and clasping her hand in his. He was so close she could smell his sweet breath, overlaid with a hint of coffee. His eyes weren’t black as she’d first thought. They were deep brown with a touch of caramel and were gazing at her appraisingly. Now that he was actually here, Ginny’s confidence faltered as she met his intense scrutiny. Had he come to buy a horse or check her out? Her heart rate sped up as nerves and anticipation made her breath falter. It was at once unexpected and exhilarating. Ginny withdrew her hand and stepped back, laughing off the moment awkwardly.

Author Bio:

Mickie B. Ashling is the pseudonym of a multi-published author who resides in a suburb outside Chicago. She is a product of her upbringing in various cultures, having lived in Japan, the Philippines, Spain, and the Middle East. Fluent in three languages, she’s a citizen of the world and an interesting mixture of East and West.

Since 2009, Mickie has written several dozen novels in the LGBTQ+ genre—which have been translated into French, Italian, Spanish, and German. Lately, her muse has been nudging her in a different direction, and she’s learned through past experience to pay attention to creative sparks that show up unexpectedly. Her pen name is a part of her now, and will travel along on this exciting new journey, wherever it might lead. She promises to be very specific in her book blurbs and cover art to avoid any confusion.

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