This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Petie McCarty will
be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour
banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Someone is watching Cory.
She can feel it in her bones . . . but why?
Navy SEAL Sean MacKay's teammate is murdered after stealing a deadly nerve gas
formula from Syrian terrorists. Naval Intelligence believes MacKay's teammate was a
traitor and shipped the stolen formula to his sister in the States for safekeeping. MacKay
is ordered to find the sister before the terrorists do and to recover the stolen formula at
all costs.
Foreclosure looms for Cory Rigatero as she struggles to keep her rustic resort near Mt.
St. Helens afloat after her brother abandoned her to join the SEAL Teams. Cory's wholeworld plummets into a tailspin when Sean MacKay shows up at her resort with news of
her brother's death and the shocking suspicion that her brother sent her traitorous
classified documents. r>
No way will Cory ever trust MacKay—the man who once seduced her and then
vanished into the night without a trace.
Read an Excerpt
Cory stopped in the kitchen on her way outside. “I thought I’d go out front and see if
Vern needed any help.”
“He’s all done,” Cookie told her and handed Garth a dog biscuit from the jar on the
counter. “He had a boy out front helping him when I peeked out the window a bit
ago.”
“A boy? You mean Jasper?”
“No, I’ve never seen this one around here before.” Cookie went back to stirring her pot.
“Handsome, though,” she added. “They headed for the barn.”
“I'd better go see who it is,” Cory said, already striding for the back door.
She called out as soon as she reached the open barn doors, and Vern hollered from the
small office that doubled as his shop. Cory threaded her way through all the equipment
in the back half of the barn. Cookie’s stranger stood up when she appeared in the
doorway, and Cory froze.
This was no boy. This was a man. All man. And he literally stole Cory’s breath away. She had read that in novels before. Never believed it to be possible.
Until now.
Shaggy hair and dark brown curls, perfectly teamed with a matching beard, were her
first thought. Her second thought was broad—really broad—shoulders beneath his
black flannel shirt, and hips so narrow that his black jeans sagged a smidge on his tall,
muscular frame. His sleeves were rolled up, and those forearms and biceps belonged to
a working man.
Good grief! Stop staring, Cory!
She caught herself before she licked her lips and jerked her gaze back to his face. Blue
eyes that snared her gaze like a predator traps unsuspecting prey. Those blue eyes
sparkled with just enough mischief to send a wicked flutter through her belly. Blue eyes
that looked startlingly familiar.
.Maybe she just wanted them to look familiar, so she could already know this handsome
man.
“Mac here is our new help.”
About the Author
Petie spent a majority of her career at Walt Disney World—"The Most Magical Place on
Earth"—where she loved working in the land of fairy tales by day and crafting her ownromantic fairy tales by night, including her series, The Cinderella Romances. She
eventually said goodbye to her "day" job to focus on her stories full-time.
These days, Petie spends her time writing new tales for her Cinderella series, her new
paranormal-romantic-suspense series, The Watchers, sequels to her Regency time-
travel series, Lords in Time, and more standalones like Any Fin For Love and Ambush
in the Everglades.
Petie shares her home on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee with her horticulturist
husband and an opinionated Nanday conure named Sassy, who makes a cameo
appearance in Christmas Watch, Book 2 of The Watchers series.
Visit Petie at her website, http://www.petiemccarty.com, or her Facebook page,
https://www.facebook.com/petie.mccarty, to get to know her, learn about her current
projects, and discover her other published works.
Sadie believes in three things: a well-structured
Google Calendar, white twinkle lights over colored ones, and never going back to an ex. Too
bad she’s stuck planning the biggest Christmas event of the year with Danny, the only person
who’s ever made her feel seen. Can holiday magic make sparks fly between them again?
Readers who enjoy found family and holiday fun will will fall for Mr. Merry Ex-Mas by Carolina
Jax, a steamy, small town, enemies to lovers, second chance romance.
I believe in three things: a well-structured Google Calendar,
twinkle lights over colored ones, and never going back to an ex. But when the Starlight Bay
Town Board pairs me with that ex, the one with charm for days and a smirk to
match, to plan the biggest Christmas event of the year, my plan to avoid him begins to
unravel.
Danny Love is chaos in a hoodie, yet he’s somehow the only person who ever made me feel
seen, when he wasn’t teasing me or driving me absolutely insane. Now we're stuck together
planning a Christmas Gala and dodging mistletoe balls, and it turns out, the spark between us
never actually fizzled. It just waited for the moment we both might be brave enough to try,
again.
Can holiday magic help his ‘winging it’ personality and my ‘google
calendar is my bible’ attitude make it work a second time?
He raises a brow and puts his hands on his hips. “How bad we talking?ˮ
“You know the Christmas Gala youʼre sponsoring and your in-house event rep is handling?ˮ
He nods. “The Starlight Bay Town Board picked a teacher to assist. And Iʼm that teacher.ˮ
He whistles but has a shit-eating grin. “So, itʼs bad.ˮ He grabs four shot glasses and lines
them up, then grabs the bottle of Jameson, filling all four. He pushes two forward, then grabs
one. We tap glasses and down it, the burn making me feel slightly better.
“Does she know?ˮ
“Oh, she knows.ˮ I slam the second shot. “I just came from seeing her at the school
auditorium.ˮ
I shake my head. “Sheʼs still Sadie. Color-coded, clipboard-carrying, and convinced Iʼm here
to sabotage her centerpiece arrangements.ˮ
“Seems to be a specialty of yours.ˮ
“Causing chaos is my love language.ˮ
Matt laughs and pours one more shot. “You mean your ‘desperately trying not to be in
loveʼ
language?ˮ
“Excuse me. Iʼll have you know I am very successfully not in love with her.ˮ
“You're so full of shit.ˮ
I shrug, then do the third shot, the fire sitting low in my stomach. “I canʼt help it if I
remember
everything she says, and still think about how good she looks when sheʼs mad.ˮ I smile. “I
pushed her buttons on purpose today to see what would happen.ˮ
He scoffs. “Still trying to get a blow job after a fight, huh?ˮ
“Howʼd that go?ˮ
I snicker. “I should have never told you that.ˮ I spin the empty shot glass, and my mind
reverts to every fight I picked on purpose just so she would show me some passion.
“Mhmm. Totally not in love. You sound like a movie side character who dies of unresolved
tension.ˮ
I roll my eyes. “Youʼre no help.ˮ
“Listen, Iʼm the guy who watched his high-school sweetheart waltz back into his winery
with her fiancé to plan their wedding and still managed to marry her, so
if anyone gets being the side character at first, I do.ˮ
“Yeah, well, Sadieʼs not exactly giving me the green light. In fact, her words were
‘weʼre not
anything.ʼ So, pretty sure sheʼs over me.ˮ
“Maybe. Or maybe sheʼs scared youʼre not joking this time.ˮ
I pause, letting out a breath. “I wasnʼt joking then.ˮ
“I know you werenʼt, but she didn't, and that was the problem. Youʼre not a kid, Danny. You
donʼt have to pull her ponytail to get her attention.ˮ
“I did if I wanted a blow job.ˮ I laugh, then sober. “Sheʼs got this whole world mapped
out—timelines, goals, perfect damn centerpieces. And Iʼm just… me.ˮ
“Yeah, youʼre you. The guy whoʼs funny, loyal, great with kids, and probably the only person
on earth who could balance her out when she finally lets go.ˮ
“You really think that?ˮ
“Only because my fiancé tells me I have to be nice to you.ˮ I flip him off, and he laughs. “But
Sadie thinks that, too. She just doesnʼt want to admit it, even if you're holding a lighter to her
perfectly timed schedule.ˮ
I huff a laugh and stand. “Thanks for the drink. And for the talk. I'll catch ya tomorrow.ˮ
I walk out, remembering how it felt to have her hand pushed against my chest, kissing me
like she didnʼt want to want me but couldn't resist me either.
That was the night I realized I might actually love Sadie Johnson.
And today showed me I never stopped. Now, I just have to figure out how to get her to see
what Iʼve always known. We werenʼt perfect on paper, and we definitely didnʼt make sense
together, but when it was just me and her with no schedule between us, we were something
worth fighting for.
Hailing from a tiny town in New York, Carolina spends her free
time with her military husband, their three sons and new daughter-in-law (welcome to this crazy
family!) and her chocolate lab, Lincoln. Her avid love for reading slowly morphed into an “I want
to do that, too!ˮ attitude and a dream was born with a pen and paper. Carolina Jax writes
contemporary romances about her favorite things – football, small towns and big hearts. Her
stories are based on an everyday life with amazing people finding amazing love. They have the
perfect combination of love, lust and laughs, and always with a Happily Ever After. When sheʼs
not on the field watching her boys play football and lacrosse, she loves to drink wine with
friends, watch the Philadelphia Eagles (hopefully) win, read about alpha heroes, and dream
about everything Christmas.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Mark A. Hill will be
awarding a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour
banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Mitchell Rose and the
Bologna Massacre is a crime story that explores the last fifty years of cross-fertilisation
between the Italian criminal underworld, its secret services, politics and the judicial
system.
When Mitchell Rose is called to Milan by Remo Rhimare, a local judge who wants him
to investigate the Bologna bombing of 1980, he knows it would make more sense to
turn the job down.
To make things even more complicated, Rhimare also wants Rose to rein in his errant
daughter, who is becoming increasingly wayward.
As Rose begins to investigate, the two missions surprisingly become one, culminating in
a dreadful dramatic climax.
Read an Excerpt
I twitched nervously. The will to move out of there and toward the action was strong. I
wanted to be an integral part of the scene that I could see reflected there in the mobile
phone. Alessandra raised a hand and made a gesture that encouraged me to stay put.
In doing so, she touched me softly on the left shoulder with her long fingernails. Being
discovered there would put me back to square one. Robuyuki was gonna get his from
Cambio’s guards, but I had to stay still, I couldn’t move.
“It’s also my favourite drink.” The chef offered.
“But you don’t drink, Robuyuki.”
Robuyuki lifted the glass to his lips and forced the drink down his neck, licking his lips
with satisfaction.
Cambio had been silenced and we heard the clumped, mechanical tramping of feet as
they exited the restaurant. Alessandra heaved a sigh of relief and we slowly moved
apart. I poured a glass of Grand Marnier into the glass that I had seized and we shared
it there in the cellar. The sense of relief was overwhelming and we hugged each other, but without the intensity that there had been between us moments before. There was
still a layer of fear that lay like a film across the room, and that fear had rendered us
sexless siblings. Robuyuki knocked on the cellar door and we climbed back up and
thanked him sincerely.
Guest Post:
Topic: Did you have a minor character who insisted on playing a larger role in the story. If so, please tell us
about it. And if not, please tell me how you get the characters in your head to behave.
That’s a really great question and I think I can answer it like this.
Initially, I decided to write the novel in the first person and concentrate on the psychological profile
and motivation of Mitchell Rose, a private investigator, who is asked to re-examine the Bologna
bombing of 1980. He wants to be a larger-than-life character who puts the world to rites, only quite
often things don’t go his way. I wanted the reader to be inside his head and move forward through
the story with him. From that point of view, I was not expecting other characters to emerge as
strong identities, in their own right. I wanted to keep the narration as simple as possible and
concentrate on his investigation.
However, on a fourth/fifth reading I think that the character of Elisa, an Economics graduate who
works in a Milanese bar, comes into her own. She was originally created as a minor character, an
innocuous love interest. However, each time that Mitchell thinks he has things worked out or he’s
beginning to understand what’s going on, she understands the situation better than he does. Each
time he thinks he’s getting closer to a resolution, she is one step ahead. In that sense, she’s a smarter
mirror to his attempts to look into and solve the problems he faces. When he feels the urge to try
and form some sort of relationship, she has already anticipated what he has in mind and has an
understanding that is much more perceptive than any of his instinctive urges to move forward and
bend the situation to his will.
The character of Alessandra, the wife of the Milanese politician Cambio, works the same way.
Mitchell Rose might think he is a James Bond character, but the reality is somewhat different.
In this sense, these two female protagonists play a more significant role, even if the narration
remains with Mitchell Rose. It is the two women who perceive the nature of power, influence and
truth much better than the swashbuckling private detective.
As regards getting my characters to do stuff, getting them to perform, I prepare files on their
physical and psychological characteristics and then I put them together in the novel. They speak and
interact. and things just happen. They might banter, they might kiss, they might fight, they might
storm off into the night or bash each other over the head. Then I come back for a second or third
rewrite and see exactly what has gone on. If it has not worked, it gets rewritten. I am never afraid to
rewrite and throw away scenes that are not good enough. In the past, I have always had a tendency
to wade into the surreal in my writing. I wanted this book to be devoid of imagery or more poetic
elements. I wanted the novel to be written straight and to be as believable as possible respecting the
crime story genre.
I did not have an ending in mind when I started the novel and a lot of the scenes evolved quite
naturally. Working mainly from the point of view of one character, this is a relatively simple
process. There are two principal villains in the story, along with those who aid and abet them. When
Mitchell meets them face to face, there are bound to be sparks. These are the elementary contrasts
that keep the narrative moving forward.
About the Author
Mark A. Hill has an Economics degree from the University of Lancaster and both CELTA
and DELTA qualifications to teach English to second language learners.
In 2005, in Cagliari, Italy, he founded English Teachers, which offers language services
such as English courses, translations and interpreting. He collaborates as a translator
and interpreter with the Cagliari Law Courts, several universities throughout Europe,
and numerous private and public organizations both in the Cagliari area and throughout
Italy.
Every summer, he teaches English for Academic Purposes (EAP) to Postgraduate
students at Swansea University in the UK.
Mark A. Hill’s poetry has been published in The UK Poetry Library’s Top Writers of 2012
and the Live Canon 2013 Prize Anthology. He was highly commended in the 2015
Segora Poetry Prize and was short-listed for the Canon 2015 First Collection Prize. In
2016, one of his poems was commissioned, published and performed at The Victoria
and Albert Museum, London, for the anniversary of Shakespeare’s death.
Mark A. Hill has also published academic courseware in collaboration with Delfis
s.r.l.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Joanne Guidoccio
will be awarding a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour
banner to see the other stops on the tour.
From sea to shore, betrayal follows her wherever she goes.
On Christmas Eve, psychic Kendra Adams reveals the secret she’s hidden for
decades—she was once Rosina, a mermaid torn between sea and shore. Betrayed in
her ocean kingdom and desperate to escape banishment, she persuades a politician to
smuggle her into the human world. But freedom on land comes at a cost, as she soon
finds herself ensnared in another web, this one spun by the politician’s power-hungry
sister.
Read an Excerpt
The human laughter startled me. It sounded so foreign, unlike anything I had ever heard
before. I followed the sounds and turned my gaze toward four large humans
approaching us. Up close, they were frightening, almost menacing, in their dark
garments. I took note of their varying appearances. Two had light brown hair and blue
eyes, while the other pair sported dark hair and dark eyes. Intent on observing the
darker pair, I didn’t notice the other two men eyeing me.
“Hippie mermaid!” yelled one of the men with light-colored features.
All the men glanced in my direction. I felt myself reddening as I met their liquid eyes and
wide smiles. There was interest there, and some other emotion or feeling I had never
seen before. For a split second, I was flattered by their attention. And then I recalled
what Mama had said. I must let Annabella choose first.
Annabella did not give me a chance to react. She beckoned to the man who had
spoken, and he reluctantly turned away from me. Rosetta claimed the other light-haired
man, and Lisetta chose one of the dark-haired men. I watched as they moved to
separate rocks along the shore.
The remaining man approached. As his features came into closer focus, I realized he
was older than the others. Not by much, but there were white hairs sprinkled in the
darkness, and his face crinkled as he smiled. “I guess I won this mermaid lottery.”
My eyes widened in surprise.
He laughed and shook his head. “You could have had any of us. You didn’t have to end
up with me.”
“But I’m not a Bella or an Etta. I’m an Ina.” There was no point in hiding my rank. I had
never been embarrassed by it, and after hearing about Aunt Lina’s punishment, I knew
“Honey, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the prettiest of the group. You just
don’t know it yet.”
About the Author:
Joanne Guidoccio enjoyed a rewarding career teaching mathematics, business, and co-
operative education courses before retiring to pursue writing. A member of Crime
Writers of Canada, Sisters in Crime, and the Women’s Fiction Writers Association, she
writes paranormal romances, cozy mysteries, and inspirational stories from her home
base of Guelph, Ontario.
She doesn’t believe in love. I never thought it
was possible. But living with her is rewriting everything I thought I knew— And walking away
might not be an option.Readers who enjoy romance reads with
close proximity and touch her and die vibes will love The Roommate Agreement by A. Akinosho,
a steamy, fake dating, grumpy/sunshine, billionaire romance.
“We. Are. Done.ˮ I say, shouting at him, repeating his words. “I thought I couldnʼt live without
you but turns out that I can. It may take years for my heart to heal and learn how to live without
you, but it will learn,ˮ I retort, exhaling, “baby steps.ˮ I mutter to myself, something Iʼve been
reminding myself of lately. I appreciate everything you did with Teni, but we have come to the
end of our road, and we must say goodbye. You need not worry. Iʼll be leaving Chicago soon, so
our paths will never cross again.ˮ I solemnly state. His face creased into a deep frown, and I
noticed the worry lines etched on his brow.
“Anu, please forgive me; give me another chanceˮ His pleading words fell on deaf ears as I
scoffed at him. Averting eye contact, I recoiled from his touch and noticed the disappointment
on his face, but right now I choose me first. A gentle touch of his is all it takes to make me agree
to all his terms, even when I know I should run to the hills.
“What we had was all or nothingˮ I pause. “We had all beforeˮ I catch my breath for a
moment “Now there is nothing. Thereʼs no halfway or in between.ˮ I pause from my vehement
words and emotions “I donʼt hate you, we had a good time, and Iʼve mentally accepted my dadʼs
offer, it all worked out for the bestˮ I say in a calm voice, and a shrug, maintaining my defiance
stance with a straight face even as I shatter inside. He frowns at me.
“You canʼt do that,ˮ he shouts in my face
Slug":"large","linkDestination":"none"} -->
“Pretty sure I can,ˮ I challenge in a dulcet tone, a stark contrast to his shouts "Last I
checked, I have every right to make a decision for myself.ˮ
“You canʼt because you love me, and I love youˮ his voice heated
“Sometimes, love isnʼt enough,ˮ I answer succinctly
“It is for us Anu.ˮ He tries to touch me, and I shriek away from him. Exasperation is clear on
him.
“What can I do, Anu to earn your forgiveness? Please tell me. Iʼll do anything. Tell me what
to doˮ he asks, and I hear the plea in his voice, yet it all upsets me rather than appease me.
“If you want my goddamn forgiveness, you will be on your fucking knees, and since we both
know you are too proud for that, you can stop asking me for another chance, We. Are. Overˮ I
vehemently state and turn to leave. He forcefully grabs me, and I watch him slide to his
knees.
Daniel on his knees, has me in freeze mode.
“I want your forgiveness and another chanceˮ his voice is gentle. Iʼm frozen in place with
widen eyes probably like a crazy meme, I was certain Daniel would never get on his knees but
here he is before me.
A. Akinosho lives in her own little nest in Illinois. An avid
reader and enjoy reading thrillers, suspense and romance novels (partial to romance genre).
When she's not reading or keeping up with life, she enjoys writing and creating twists to stories.
She loves writing about diverse characters, friendship and overcoming challenges through what
is perceived as a weakness.
A polished, perfect football player with a secret that could destroy everything and a fierce,
quick-witted reporter, determined to get the story that isn’t being told. In a world where division
sells and secrets can ruin careers… who’s saving who? Readers who enjoy forced proximity
and morally grey characters will devour Who’s Saving You by Carolina Jax, a steamy, secret
life, reverse age gap, football
romance.
Nik Papas is the newest WR for the South Carolina Warriors.
Dubbed “Saint Nik” for his squeaky clean persona, he’s polished and perfect and always has the
right answer. But underneath all that ‘Saint’ is a secret that could destroy it all.
Noelle Moreno is a reporter for The Falls Press, always determined to get the story that isn’t
being told. Fierce and quick-witted, she's got a taste for sweets and an aversion to football
players.
In the sports world, where division sells and secrets can ruin careers, sometimes your only
hope is an enemy turned lover, or a dangerous man who’s too irresistible. And when that
happens, you have to ask …
The roar hits me like a wave as I step onto the field.
Itʼs not just noise; these stands are alive. Even with the shield on my helmet, I blink against
the stadium lights. The spotlights are shining down on the most capable players the league has
to offer. Chants bounce off the stands, rolling like thunder. My green and black jersey fits like a
glove. I was made for this
This is Sunday Night Football.
The huddle breaks, and I do my best to ignore the scoreboard. I already know what time it
is. The game is tied with a minute and fourteen left on the clock, ball on the forty-two. Coach
Gage gave me the green light. I check the defense and see that a safety and a cornerback are
locked in on my every move. They know the ball is coming to me.
Let them try to take it.
I line up wide left, one toe digging into the turf. The cornerback across from me is eyeing me
like I'm about to be dinner, but I just give him a slight chuckle. Iʼm too fast for him, and he knows
it. With six million watching from home and sixty thousand right here in the stands, the crowd's
energy gives me the extra boost I need. They chant my name, and it hums in my chest louder
than my own heartbeat.
Here comes the snap. I rock forward, weight even, and fingers twitching. This is the moment
every rookie dreams of. This is the moment theyʼll either praise you for or castrate you. The one
run where they say, “yeah, he's ready to playˮ or “nope, too green. Take a
seat on the bench.ˮ
I know Iʼm better than anything they say.
The ball is snapped, and I explode off the line. The corner tries to cut me off, but I slip by,
shoulder down, and accelerate into the open field. The safety guarding me overshoots his shot,
and I cut inside, circling him before taking off toward the sideline.
It's my favorite route to run, and now Iʼm wide open.
.
Jameson Winters, my QB, sees it and already expects me there as he lets the ball fly. Itʼs a
tight spiral aiming right for me, and Iʼm ready.
The clock ticks, and I push hard, one, two, three, four steps. I reach out, and the ball hits my
hands like a moth to a flame. I cradle it to me, twist away from a defender, and run out of
bounds.
First down!
The stadium erupts. I mean, it literally explodes. Iʼve been to games, sat in the
stands, and watched as my favorite team was inches away from scoring. Thereʼs no better
feeling, itʼs as if I was already playing for them. I laugh to myself, remembering that analyst who
said I wasnʼt ready, the one who said I still needed a year.
Fuck your year.
My teammates swarm me, slapping me on my helmet before quickly pulling me back to the
huddle.
Line up. Do it again.
On the outside, Iʼm calm. I stand amongst my team listening to Jameson call the play. But
inside? Fucking fireworks. My blood runs through me like lava, my heart pumping
like I've been electrocuted. Iʼm half-fucking-hard standing here because I know what's
coming.
They throw it to me because I wonʼt drop it, because I make the plays the vets hesitate on.
Iʼm too new and too stupid to feel any other way but to sacrifice it all.
America loves an underdog, but they worship the one who can prove them wrong. And Iʼll
do it every fucking time.
Ballʼs on the 17, and the clock is ticking. Jameson steps up and meets my eyes.
“Coach called a Ghostfade. You got this?ˮ
My lips twitch. “You know I do.ˮ
This play is designed for me as Iʼm the only one who can outrun a defender every single
time. Like a ghost fades into thin air, I fade into the end zone, outrunning everyone around
me.
I line up wide and see the cornerʼs already pressing in, but he wonʼt ever catch me. The
snap hits, and I fake inside, sell the slant hard, then cut. Iʼm running outside, straight and clean.
He stumbles; itʼs just a step, but thatʼs all I need to take off. The end zone opens up like a
door.
Hailing from a tiny town in New York, Carolina spends her free
time with her military husband, their three sons and new daughter-in-law (welcome to this crazy
family!) and her chocolate lab, Lincoln. Her avid love for reading slowly morphed into an “I want
to do that, too!ˮ attitude and a dream was born with a pen and paper. Carolina Jax writes
contemporary romances about her favorite things – football, small towns and big hearts. Her
stories are based on an everyday life with amazing people finding amazing love. They have the
perfect combination of love, lust and laughs, and always with a Happily Ever After. When sheʼs
not on the field watching her boys play football and lacrosse, she loves to drink wine with
friends, watch the Philadelphia Eagles (hopefully) win, read about alpha heroes, and dream
about everything Christmas.