Spotlight: Capturing the Texas Rancher’s Heart by Debra Holt

(The Tremaynes of Texas, #1)

Published by: Tule Publishing

Publication date: June 3rd 2021

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis:

She thought she’d protected her heart…

After a tumultuous childhood, nurse Jamie Westmoreland craves the comfort of predictability. She loves her quiet life in a small Texas ranching town and finally feels in control until a handsome rancher becomes her newest patient. He challenges her at every turn, but Jamie is too stubborn to admit she enjoys their sparring, and that he makes her heart race. But when his charming little cowboy son starts following her around, her long-neglected heart opens.

Thomas Tremayne, the eldest son of a well-respected local ranching family, is both mom and dad to his young son and has no plans to change. When a ranch injury requires an in-house expert, the nurse who called him out on his attitude is sent to help him heal. She’s even harder to resist on his ranch than she was at the hospital, but Thomas is determined to try—except he’s out-numbered. His son decided he wants a mom, and nurse Jamie is his choice.

Can two stubborn adults let down their guard long enough to let love in again?

Excerpt

She returned his silent gaze. Something passed between them. A mercurial, unseen vibration that was felt and unexplainable. A mournful howling of a coyote in the far distance broke the moment, sending her eyes in a frightened race to search out the unseen predator. Thomas felt every one of her nerve endings jump to attention beside him. He straightened his stance into one of immediate protection from some unforeseen menace.

“Relax. It’s just a coyote calling out. He’s far away and won’t come closer. There’s no danger.”

“There’s always danger…” she responded, but not di- rected at him and spoken just above a whisper. She turned and left him alone on the porch. Had he imagined the words? No, he heard them. Coupled with the look in her eyes that had flashed in a second, it left him questioning again what it was that lay hidden in those eyes. And why in that second had he been moved to want to discover and slay whatever real or imagined dragon that caused her pain? His gaze searched the growing darkness. There were answers out  there somewhere. He was determined more than ever to find them.

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About the Author

Born and raised in the Lone Star state of Texas, Debra grew up among horses, cowboys, wide open spaces, and real Texas Rangers. Pride in her state and ancestry knows no bounds and it is these heroes and heroines she loves to write about the most. She also draws upon a variety of life experiences including working with abused children, caring for baby animals at a major zoo, and planning high-end weddings (ah, romance!).
Debra's real pride and joys, however, are her son, an aspiring film actor, and a daughter with aspirations to join the Federal Bureau of Investigation. (more story ideas!) When she isn't busy writing about tall Texans and feisty heroines, she can be found cheering on her Texas Tech Red Raiders, or heading off on another cruise adventure. She read her first romance...Janet Dailey's Fiesta San Antonio, over thirty years ago and became hooked on the genre. Writing contemporary western romances, is both her passion and dream come true, and she hopes her books will bring smiles...and sighs... to all who believe in happily-ever-after's.
Debra invites you to visit her website at www.debraholtbooks.com. She loves to hear from other aspiring authors or readers via email at debraholtbooks@gmail.com.

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Spotlight: A Not So Lonely Planet by Karina Kennedy

Marina Taylor is a bold, adventure-seeking writer with a one-way ticket to Rome and big dreams to write her book, Italian Women of Influence . . . but an undeniable connection with an irresistible stranger—and her penchant for disaster—just may derail her plans.

Inspired by actress and sex icon Regina Lombardi, Marina tries to master the sexual gaze as she researches her book and stumbles her way through Italian scholars, Turkish footballers, and Sicilian twins. From the nightclubs of Rome to a Venetian masquerade ball, Marina’s escapades leave her yearning for a particular French-Italian photographer. Will she catch her illusive stranger, or prove more calamity than coquette? And what about the ruggedly down-to-earth ex who's waiting for her back home?

Equal parts laugh-out-loud travel comedy and sexy adventure, Marina’s first trip abroad will inspire you to throw your own itinerary out the window and throw caution to the wind. Art, love, sex, wine—the Italian playboy and the boy next door—who says you can’t have it all?

Excerpt

How Not To Seduce a Man

Ristorante La Brezza, Positano, Italy: 

Tuesday, 11:26 p.m. 

The dynamic lesbian duo I meet on the train from Rome to Positano are full of wing-woman potential. I’m traveling alone, so the refined, blonde Parisian one who reminds me of a beautiful wood nymph invites me to join them for dinner with her friends. Her saucy British girlfriend, more nympho than nymph, orders me to come. I accept out of curiosity and fear of insulting the Brit, who was clearly Wicked Spice, a sixth girl, kicked out of the group for bad behavior. Anyway, I didn’t just come to Italy to research a book. I came to meet people and have adventures. This qualifies as both. Positano is a sleepy, gorgeous town near the Italian Riviera, and the warmly lit trattoria is right on the blue-green water. I have no idea he will be there. Dinner is eccellente. Dessert does not go as planned. If you are ever traveling on your own Italian-love-cation, here are some things I learned.

HINTS FOR NOT BEING “TOO AMERICAN”: 

1. Espresso is to be enjoyed after dessert, not with. (What are you, a hedonist?) 

2. Fragola and Limoncello are digestive liqueurs. Not shots. Trust me. (You don’t want to be cleaning your own strawberry-lemon smoothie off the floor of your pensione bathroom at 2:00 a.m.) 

3. Italians don’t do doggie bags. (Even if they were the best meat-balls you ever had in your life, don’t try to put the last three in your purse.) 

The meal is finishing up.

AT THIS POINT, IF: you’ve been playing footsies with the sexy photographer across from you, only to realize it’s actually the female Alitalia pilot or the leg of the table… 

YOU SHOULD: start the Escher-esque climb of steps back to your pen-sione. 

DO NOT: do what I do now. 

I take a slow look around the table so it doesn’t seem like I’m looking at him. I know him. He’s a certain half-French, half-Italian photographer from the Roman fountain last week. The cocky, handsome stranger had pissed me off, and I’d taken the high road, instead of a ride in his sports car. Since that day, I’d distracted myself pretty fantastically, but Frantonio (I’d decided to call him this since I never got his name), kept slipping back into my mind.

Tonight when we were introduced we both pretended not to recognize each other. Now, he sips espresso, listening to his friend talk about football while staring at me. Is it hot in here? When we met in Rome, he had the upper hand. I decide now that tonight will be different. Seduction is a fine art to be practiced by masters. Rembrandt. Degas. Renoir. Me, I’m more of a Pollock. It’s definitely hot in here.

I fill my glass with ice from the Prosecco bucket, lift my hair, and roll the glass gently against my neck, willing him to watch me. How sexy is this? Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten the bright red “Luscious Passion” lipstick on my glass, and I now have red smears on my neck as if I’ve been recently strangled. Sadly, I am unaware of this. Seeing that I’ve got his attention, I shift my weight so the neck of my dress drapes open enough for the lace of my bra to show. Glancing down, I then remember my one sexy bra had smelled like a gladiator in the Colosseum after he’d been beaten and buried for thousands of years. Tonight I’ve worn my sensible, once-white-now-gray-and-fraying Target bra. I quickly sit up straight again. Or at least what I think is straight. The pictures on the wall opposite all slope downhill as if I’m on a cruise ship. I’m sure it has nothing to do with all the wine I’ve had. 

I know he recognizes me also. How could he not? It was only a brief encounter, but I remembered every inch of him. I allow my eyes to wander over his nicely shaped forearms, his dirty blond, perfectly ruffled hair, the graceful arc of his collarbone, his strong jawline peppered with stubble, and the firm curve of his lip. But what’s been creeping into my dreams are those eyes, framed by his glasses—deep brown with hints of gold and playful, curling lashes. He is gorgeous. Here’s a second chance to see what’s behind door number one. It’s now or never. I rise slowly. I’m not a person who passes up risky potential for a safe bet. As I walk toward the hall that leads to the bathroom, I throw Frantonio a sexy smile. Andiamo. Let’s go. 

IF YOU’VE MADE IT THIS FAR, FOLLOW THESE INSTRUCTIONS: 

1. Quick pee and hand wash. 

2. Cleavage hike. 

3. Breath check. 

4. Pit sniff and pit wipe

5. In the hall, drape yourself against the wall and channel your best Jessica (Biel, Alba, Simpson, for me it’s Rabbit).

6. Wait. 

DO NOT: reapply previously mentioned “Luscious Passion” red lipstick

Copyright © 2021 by Karina Kennedy.

All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio, television, or online reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published in the United States by Cleis Press, an imprint of Start Midnight, LLC, 221

River Street, Ninth Floor, Hoboken, New Jersey 07030.

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About the Author

Karina Kennedy is a romantic writer and a restless spirit. Growing up in Florida, she cheated her Choose Your Own Adventure books by keeping fingers stuck in the pages so she could change her mind. Who wants only one adventure? Karina is inspired by strong, creative women in all walks of life and uses this passion to fuel her travels all over the world. As an intrepid explorer she is unwilling to miss out on a memory, willing to bend the rules, unafraid of her own beauty, and ready to share it with those who deserve it. Karina hopes to inspire and entertain other like-minded people to explore the world, fall in love, or just have fun.  

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Spotlight: The Poison Keeper by Deborah Swift

Genre: Historical Fiction

Naples 1633

Aqua Tofana – One drop to heal. Three drops to kill.

Giulia Tofana longs for more responsibility in her mother’s apothecary business, but Mamma has always been secretive and refuses to tell Giulia the hidden keys to her success. When Mamma is arrested for the poisoning of the powerful Duke de Verdi, Giulia is shocked to uncover the darker side of her trade.

Giulia must run for her life, and escapes to Naples, under the shadow of Mount Vesuvius, to the home of her Aunt Isabetta, a famous courtesan. But when Giulia hears that her mother has been executed, and the cruel manner of her death, she swears she will wreak revenge on the Duke de Verdi.

The trouble is, Naples is in the grip of Domenico, the Duke’s brother, who controls the city with the ‘Camorra’, the mafia. Worse, her Aunt Isabetta, under Domenico’s thrall, insists that she should be consort to him – the brother of the man she has vowed to kill.

Based on the legendary life of Italian poisoner Giulia Tofana, this is a story of hidden family secrets, and how even the darkest desires can be vanquished by courage and love.

Excerpt

Chapter 1 

A splash of noonday sun danced against the latticed window. Giulia paused, plate in hand, as a spider, escaping the sudden light, spooled slowly downwards on a silvery thread. If it put so much as a leg into the downstairs chamber, Mamma would kill it. Any stray crumb could pollute her work, she said. Any creature that fell into her carefully measured remedies could change the balance. Turn good to ill. Things were apt to turn into their opposite without careful attention, Mamma said, and Mamma was always right. 

Fortune smiles on you today, little one, Giulia thought, Mamma is busy in the still-room. 

The spider completed its acrobatic descent and was gone; spindly legs scuttling away across the windowsill, and into the blue-black shadow behind the cheese press. Giulia finished laying out the meal; yesterday’s bread, wedges from a round of hard salty cheese, pickled olives and figs from Tuscolo. 

She called down the staircase, ‘It’s ready, Mamma.’ 

It was their servant Maria’s day off, so it was left to Giulia today to make Mamma eat. And today she was determined to make her listen.

She cocked her head. No answer. 

Mamma often didn’t hear, or pretended not to, when she was involved in her work. Giulia tucked the stray wisps of hair back into her dark coiled braids, lifted her heavy skirts and went downstairs, heels clacking on the stone treads. The door was shut as usual. It seemed to her she’d been locked outside this door her entire life. Only when Mamma was ready, would she open it. 

She remembered the time when she was eight years old straying into the still-room and lifting the end of a stopper to her nose to smell it. A stinging slap to the cheek. ‘Never, never do that,’ Mamma had shouted, whipping the stopper away with a gloved hand, ‘You could die.’

Since then the door was locked, until Mamma deigned to open it.

Jerking her attention back to the present, Giulia gave a double knock, louder than necessary. She’d make Mamma listen, this time.

The door swung open, and Mamma was there, angry as a wasp, a pair of red-hot tongs in her hand and a lump of something black smoking in their jaws. She hated being disturbed. ‘What?’

Giulia put a hand to her nose. The heat and noxious smell of the still room had stopped her at the threshold. There was always something on the boil down here. 

‘Well, what is it, that you must knock fit to wake the dead?’ Mamma pulled down the gauze so only her sloe-black eyes were showing. The lower part of her face was covered so she did not breathe in the gases as she worked.

‘It’s ready,’ Giulia said again.

‘What?’ 

‘Food, Mamma. You put it in your mouth and swallow it, and it stops you from dying.’

‘Ha, ha. Less of that. I’m coming. What’s the hurry? Nothing will spoil. I must wait until this dissolves.’ She pointed with the tongs to a small charred pan bubbling over the fire. 

‘I’m hungry,’ Giulia said, ‘even if you’re not.’ She blew onto her upper lip. ‘It’s airless again down here. How can you can bear it?’

‘Because if I don’t finish this, neither of us can afford to eat, my dove, that’s why.’

‘You should let me help more.’

Mamma dropped the smoking lump of matter into the pot. ‘This is delicate and needs a slow and steady hand. Better I do it. And never fear, there’ll be time enough for learning this when you’ve mastered the kitchen simples.’

‘They’re mastered, Mamma. I can make them blindfold, every single one. You promised you’d train me in the secret arts when I was sixteen. Then you changed your mind, and said when I was eighteen. And still, even now I’m waiting.’ 

Mamma threw her look that said, ‘not that old argument’. Giulia watched her mother hang up the tongs, wash in the stone basin, wipe her hands, wash and dry them again, examine them minutely, put her gloves back on, and then return to ministering to the fire.

She was used to her excessive cleanliness, though today it made her want to scream. Mamma dealt in grains and specks – granules of matter so small they could barely be seen. Not a single ant was allowed to tiptoe into her workroom; every table was scrubbed with lye and bleached white, and she made Maria burnish the tiled floor with beeswax to a high gloss. 

Giulia hovered by the dispensing table, picked up a small lead weight from the scales, then put it down again. It was fruitless to discuss this again. But the words still came out of her mouth; ‘When will you train me in alchemy, Mamma? Who will make the remedies when you’re too old and sick?’

‘Tush. I’m hale as ever I was. Can’t get rid of me yet. Anyway, I’m far too occupied at the moment to spare the time.’ Mamma shrugged and turned away again to stir the pot. ‘Pass me that flask, will you.’

The sight of Mamma’s bent back, with the neat grey curls poking from under her starched cap, and the hunch of her shoulders, suddenly made Giulia furious. By God, she’d make her listen this time. Deliberately, she picked up the slender glass flask from the table, opened her fingers and let it crash to the ground. 

Mamma whirled round at the sound of splintering glass, astonishment in her face.

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About the Author

Deborah Swift is the author of three previous historical novels for adults, The Lady’s Slipper, The Gilded Lily, and A Divided Inheritance, all published by Macmillan/St Martin’s Press, as well as the Highway Trilogy for teens (and anyone young at heart!). Her first novel was shortlisted for the Impress prize for new novelists.

She lives on the edge of the beautiful and literary English Lake District – a place made famous by the poets Wordsworth and Coleridge.

For more information, please visit Deborah Swift’s website. You can also find her on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.

The Poison Keeper

Spotlight: The Hot Summer of 1968 by Viliam Klimacek

In the spring of 1968, the Czechoslovakian Communist Party introduced “socialism with a human face,” known as “Prague Spring.” Suddenly the citizens of Czechoslovakia enjoyed the freedom of the Press, an end to arbitrary wiretaps, and the right to travel without prior authorizations and visas. Their borders opened to the West, consumer goods appeared in the stores, and the winds of freedom blew over the country. That summer, Alexander and Anna boarded their Skoda Felicia, a brand-new convertible, to join their daughter Petra in Bratislava, where she had just completed her brilliant medical studies. Tereza, the daughter of a railway worker who survived the concentration camps and a Pravda editor who had long taken in Hungarian refugees, stayed in a kibbutz in Israel to reconnect with her Jewish culture. Józef, a pastor defrocked for refusing to denounce parishioners to the Party, delivered his first uncensored sermons on the radio.

But these reforms were not well received by the Soviet Union, and in late August of 1968, the USSR sent half a million Warsaw Pact troops and tanks to occupy Czechoslovakia and put an end to this brief experiment. Every citizen had to make a choice: leave or stay? Thousands of Slovaks fearing retribution fled their homeland—some escaped to Vienna—only an hour away by train, others fled farther afield to England, Israel, South America, Canada and the United States.

Celebrating the identity of a people, its folklore, its beauty, and its vitality, Klimacek vividly retells in THE HOT SUMMER OF 1968 the stories of ten real people (whose names have been changed) enmeshed in this difficult moment in history and reveals the impact of these rapidly moving events on his characters and the lives of their families. They all made the decision to leave their homeland and depart on the perilous journey seeking refuge and freedom in new countries. Some saw their families torn apart; others lost all their possessions or were dispossessed. And, like all immigrants, they had to rebuild their lives and livelihoods. What were their challenges? How successful or happy were they? Would they ever be able to return or reconnect with their families in their homeland? They all now became part of a growing Slovak diaspora in the modern world.

Excerpt

The Secret Police were again looking for Jozef in the Radio Building. He knew they were after him, but he also knew they had a lot of work. The list of people they were looking for was enormous, and  every day some of those they could not find would be moved from the “Unable to Contact” column to the “Emigrated” column.

His superior greeted him, face pale. “Jozef, they just left. I haven’t told you anything and I haven’t seen you.” He shook his hand. “Good luck.” Jozef had just come back from recording the famous speech in which a politician talked about the border being a promenade. There was no need to wait any longer and no reason to keep up false hope. A failed pastor and actor, as the people responsible for arresting him called him, he had one last opportunity to leave Czechoslovakia, or he could put on a prison uniform and let his family be persecuted. 

When he arrived home, Erika was whistling in the kitchen, a sign that she was in an excellent mood. She had just finished marinating the rabbit and had managed to get fabulous bacon at the market. Peter was watching with interest as she sliced it into tiny white cubes. Jozef stood for a moment in the hallway, summoning the courage for what he had to say. Then he entered.

“We have to leave.”    “Leave? And go where?”  “To Austria. They wanted to arrest me today.”  “But I’m frying the crackling!” Erika spoke like a practical woman. They had to leave now, while she was frying the crackling and marinating the rabbit? Where would they go? Dinner was almost ready! Not for her, but for them! But she didn’t say what was going through her mind, knowing that her husband was right. They had to leave.

“Luckily, I have a full tank of gas. Pack warm clothes for the winter.” “That doesn’t sound temporary, does it?” “Austrian Radio will help us. They’re employing our people and will get us work and housing.” Peter followed their conversation attentively. “Mum, where are we going?” Erika started to say, “on a vacation,” but her voice broke. She embraced the boy, but he shouted joyfully. Vacation! He had to pack his little cars.

During his last trip to the Radio Building Jozef returned his reporter’s tape recorder. He wouldn’t let them make a thief out of him. He went to see their neighbor in the building, the one who had called them that August night and told them about the Soviet invasion. He left all his receipts with her, showing that he had paid off his television and the fridge. There was nothing left to say.

His biggest regret was that he couldn’t say goodbye to his mother. She told him that police from Modra were even looking for him in their vineyard. He was in a terrible predicament, having to leave without kissing the person who had sacrificed so much for him. 

So, he called Erika’s sister. Anna answered after a long pause. Her voice had changed. It sounded tired, as if coming from a deep well. “Hello? Is that you, Anna?” “Jozef? Where are you calling from?” “From a phone booth. How are you?” “Well, you know. Petra left.” “I know… please don’t cry. Everything will be fine. I have very little time… I wanted to hear your voice.” “I’m happy you called.”

“I have a favor to ask of you. Could you visit my mother, now and again, when you’re in the area? She has no phone, as you know. Tell her I love her very much.”  “I will, don’t worry.”  “Say hello to Alex.”  “I wish you the best of luck.” Jozef put down the receiver. The silence interrupted by electrical frequencies in the phone spoke more eloquently than dozens of words. He could be silent and yet he’d said everything.

Captain Poliačik, a quiet forty-year-old man, was in the Passport Office. He gave Jozef and his family permits to go to Austria without asking any questions. His department had been doing this all summerlong without stopping anyone. Anyone who wanted to leave could get out. Jozef thanked him and left the office.

That day Captain Poliačik gave out several other travel permits. At the end of the day, he wrote one for himself and his wife and children. Then he wrote a letter to his superior that would arrive by mail two days after he left the country. “As a Communist Party member, I should stay, but as the father of a family a family I cannot.”

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About the Author

Viliam Klimáček graduated from Bratislava University's Faculty of Medicine. Co-founding the alternative theatre GUnaGU in 1985, he has been its actor, director, and playwright. In the mid-1990s he gave up medical practice, devoting himself entirely to the theatre and writing. His most successful books include the novels Naďa má čas (Naďa is Not in a Hurry, 2002), Námestie kozmonautov (2007) and especially Bratislava 68 : Été brûlant (Horúce leto 68/The Hot Summer of 68, 2011). 

ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR: Peter Petro, the translator, Emeritus Professor in the Department of Central, Eastern, and Northern European Studies at the University of British Columbia, was born in Slovakia, earned his B.A. (1970) and a M.A.(1972) in Russian literature at the University of British Columbia and his Ph.D. in comparative literature (1978) at the University of Alberta. He is the author of several books including a translation of the prize-winning novel by Milan Simecka, The Year of the Frog.

Audio Spotlight: The Fall of Mrs. Parsons by Phil Geoffrey Bond and narrator Jenn Lee

Publisher: Chess Books/Above Deck Entertainment⎮2021

Producer: Audiobook Empire

Genre: Fiction

Release date: April 15, 2021

Synopsis: Mrs. Parsons lives a quiet life in a small cottage in the woods on the outskirts of town, having woken next to her husband Lloyd, and has gone about with her normal routine every day for the past 50+ years. But on this most extraordinary day, she will venture out into the world, reclaiming her place in it and, in so doing so, rediscover herself.

In this lush, romantic short tale from Phil Geoffrey Bond, the simple life is revealed as not so simple at all.

Listen to an excerpt from the book here

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About the Author: Phil Geoffrey Bond

PHIL GEOFFREY BOND is an award-winning author, best known for his collection of short pieces, All the Sad Young Men, and the celebrated picture book, My Friend, the Cat, based on the popular stage show. Often mixing dramatic prose with live theatre, his original pieces My Queer Youth, The Disney Diaries, My Friend, the Cat, My Roaring Twenties and Small Town Confessions have been embraced by a wide range of off-Broadway audiences. As a playwright, Phil has developed work at The Sundance Theatre Lab (The Citadel), and many regional theatres throughout the states. A fixture on the NYC nightlife scene, he is a seven-time MAC (Manhattan Association of Cabarets), two-time Bistro and one-time Nightlife Award-winner. Currently, he is the writer/producer/host of Sondheim Unplugged, now enjoying it's 6th year at Manhattan nightspot Feinstein's/54 Below. 2016 will see the release of his debut novel, The Last Year at Low Tide (Chess Books). In 1993, he was awarded the Presidential Medallion from President Clinton on behalf of his work as a young playwright.

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About the Narrator: Jenn Lee

After 20+ years as professional NYC actor, I stumbled into some documentary voiceover work. From that moment on, I knew the trajectory of my career had been changed forever. I adore narrating and doing VO, and every job feels like a gift.

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Spotlight: Southern Heat by Natasha Madison

Release Date: June 1

Willow

After being left for dead, I was given a fresh start by my knight in shining armor.

My protector.

I never had a family before they took me in.

But I don’t know how to stay or trust.

I always had a bag packed and ready just in case I needed to escape again.

Like they say, old habits die hard.

Being in the shadows is lonely, but lonely is safe.

Quinn

I was the quiet one, the one who stood in the back and watched things unfold. The cowboy who only cared about his horses instead of the glory.

Until I found her fighting for her life. Something inside me shifted, and I couldn’t stop it.

I couldn’t stop protecting her.

I fell in love with her with one look because she was my soul mate.

Even though I knew I couldn't make her stay.

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About the Author

When her nose isn't buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she's in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It's a good thing her characters do what she says, because even her Labrador doesn't listen to her...

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