Wednesday, December 18, 2013

@PrescottLane1 and her new release First Position

About Prescott: Prescott Lane is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and graduated from Centenary College in 1997 with a degree in sociology. She went on to Tulane University to receive her MSW in 1998, after which she worked with developmentally delayed and disabled children. She currently resides in New Orleans with her husband and two children.

Prescott will be awarding an eBook copy of "First Position" to 5 randomly drawn commenters during the tour.  

Blurb: Emory faces life’s challenges at the one place that’s never failed her, the ballet barre.  But even the barre can’t steady her when fate brings her face-to-face with her old college flame, Mason, who’s hoping to return to the NFL after a career-threatening injury.  Before they can surrender to their sexual desires and find salvation in each other’s arms, they need to come to terms with their past.  Mason must confront the demons that have set him on a path of self-destruction, while Emory must decide whether to keep her painful secrets locked away, or expose them and risk losing the love of her life.  But nothing can prepare Mason for what Emory has kept hidden, or the possibility that he himself may be to blame for the very secrets she keeps – and why they continue to haunt her.

“So, little miss, want to fess up to what you were doing yesterday?”

“Well, it depends,” she said.  “Before or after, I threw my half-naked body at Mason?”

Wesley dropped the knife.  “Excuse me?”

Tomás raised his eyebrows and gave her a smile.  “It was just for a little while,” she said playfully.

“How little?” Wesley munched on his biscuit.

“Not too long.”

“How naked?”

“I told you -- about half.”

“Which half?”

“A little of both.”

“Both breasts?”

“No.  Top and bottom.”

“Is that so?”  Wesley took a sip of his drink, thoughtfully considering what she’d said, like he was some kind of philosopher.  “Any action?”

“I tried.”

“How hard?”

“Pretty hard.”

“Was he?”  Wesley grinned at Tomás and took another bite of his biscuit.

“Shut up,” she said blushing.  “We decided it was best to take things slow.”

“That’s too bad,” Wesley said, and Tomás slapped his arm.  “In all seriousness, I’m happy for you.”

“Me too,” Emory said, rising from the table with her and Tomás’ plates. 

Wesley grabbed her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “Did you tell him?”  Emory shook her head walking to the sink, and Wesley shot her a disapproving look.  Tomás eyed them both curiously.  “He deserves to know!”

Tomás mouthed to Wesley, “Know what?”  Wesley shook his head that it was none of his business.

“No lectures, Wesley.”  She scrubbed the plates.  “Let me enjoy myself and Mason before I ruin it.” 

“You need to stop running,” Wesley said.

“I’ll stop when you stop.”

 Where to Buy: Amazon

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

@MaggiAndersen and her new release The Spies of Mayfair Book

Maggi Andersen fell in love with the Georgian and Regency worlds after reading the books of Georgette Heyer. Victoria Holt's Gothic Victorian novels were also great favorites.

She has raised three children and gained a BA and an MA in Creative Writing. After husband David retired from the law, they moved to the beautiful Southern Highlands of Australia.

Maggi's free time is spent enjoying her garden and the local wildlife, reading, movies and the theatre. She keeps fit swimming and visiting the gym.

Maggi is a multi-published author, and writes mysteries and young adult novels as well as her Georgian, Regency and Victorian romances.

Maggi will award a $50 Amazon GC plus an e-book copy of A Baron in Her Bed – The Spies of Mayfair, Book #1 to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.


John Haldane, Earl of Strathairn, is on an urgent mission to find the killer of his fellow spy. After visiting the young widow of one of his agents, Strathairn strengthens his resolve. A spy should never marry, and most certainly not to Lady Sibella Winborne, with her romantic ideas of love and marriage. Unable to give Sibella up entirely, he has kept her close as a friend. Then, weak fool that he is, he kissed her.

Lady Sibella Winborne has refused several offers of marriage since she first set eyes on the handsome Earl of Strathairn. Sibella’s many siblings always rush to her aid to discourage an ardent suitor, but not this time. Her elder brother, Chaloner, Marquess of Brandreth, has approved Lord Coombe’s suit.  Sibella yearns to set up her own household. She is known to be the sensible member of the family, but she doesn’t feel at all sensible about Lord Strathairn. If only she could forget that kiss.
Beneath glistening chandeliers, the dancers spun to the strains of a Handel waltz. Strathairn smiled down at his partner, her slim waist beneath his hand as they danced. Lady Sibella Winborne looked like a delicate flower in a gauzy pale gown covered in amber blossom. White ostrich feather plumes adorned her luxuriant dark locks. He enjoyed looking at her. Her serene oval face lifted and she smiled at him, her mouth wide and full. Too wide for beauty some might say, but made for kissing. She had inherited her mother’s famous eyes, a delectable mix of blue and green, but her nature was quieter, lacking the vivacity of her mother in her youth, who was said to have had men falling at her feet. He admired Sibella’s calm beauty, but she was oh, so much more: practical, poised and intelligent. Yet still unmarried, which surprised him.
“You arrived late tonight. I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said.
“I was tied up with business.”
“Not parliament?”
She tilted her head. “Your horses, then?”
He grinned at her blatant curiosity. “No.”
“You won’t tell me.”
Sibella laughed with good humor. “Very well. Might I find you riding in Hyde Park tomorrow?”
“I hope to.”
Her delicate brows rose. “If business doesn’t keep you.”
He laughed. “Precisely.”
The music faded away. Strathairn escorted her back to her chair where her mother, the Dowager Marchioness of Brandreth, sat fanning herself among the other dowagers. He bowed, planning to slip into the rooms set aside for gambling. As much as he might wish to dance with Sibella again, it would place them under scrutiny, and faro was an effective release from the tension he always carried with him.
“Don’t rush off, Strathairn,” her sharp-eyed mother said. “We have seen little of you of late. You rarely frequent these affairs.” She waved her fan in an arc to encompass the ballroom. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Not hiding, my lady, merely visiting my estates.”

Lady Brandreth adjusted the silk shawl over her shoulders. “Did you include that pile of yours in Yorkshire? I enjoyed the hunt ball, but it’s cold as charity in winter up in those parts.”
“Not this time, but I miss it. There’s a wild beauty to the dales in winter, quite unlike southern England.”
“I daresay.” Her purple turban wobbled as she nodded. “You are a fine figure of a man, Strathairn. What are you now? Six and thirty? You should marry. You should be setting up your nursery.” She gestured toward her daughter sitting beside her. “Sibella will bear you healthy children. The Brandreths come of good stock, and the Wederells even better.”
“Mama, please!” He caught Sibella’s apologetic gaze and suppressed a wry smile. Her plea would have little effect; the marchioness was known to be one of the most colorful and outspoken members of the ton.
The dowager batted her daughter’s protest away with her fan. “I am merely speaking the truth, Sibella.”
“Your daughter is a credit to you, my lady,” he said with a smile. “She has inherited both your beauty and intelligence.”
“Now you are toad eating.” A roguish smile lit Lady Brandreth’s face. “You always were a charmer. Sibella is intelligent. Walk with her on the terrace to discover it for yourself.”
“I should be delighted.”

Where to Buy:

Goddess Fish Blog Tour Partner

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