The #1 New York Times Bestselling author Vi Keeland is back with a brand new standalone, Beautiful Mistake releasing on July 17th and we have the amazing cover for you today!
You see, the gorgeous jerk had wined and dined my best friend--smooth talking her into his bed, all along failing to mention that he was married.
He deserved every bit of my tongue-lashing and more for what he'd done.
Only it turned out, the man I'd just told off wasn't the right guy.
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Written by I'm A Book Shark at 5/31/2017 01:58:00 PM No comments:
Labels: Cover Reveal, Inkslinger, Surprise Reveal, Vi Keeland
Blog Tour & Review -- The Nanny Arrangement by Rachel Harris
Their story would make one heck of a country song.
THE NANNY ARRANGEMENT
Country Blues #2
Releasing May 22, 2017
Entangled Bliss
Soft-spoken and shy Hannah Fisher is determined to make the man she's loved her entire life finally see her as a woman. With the help of a makeover, a new mission—Operation Find My Happy—and the convenient forced proximity of a tour bus, she vows to win her best friend Deacon's heart.
Former bad boy and current fiddle player Deacon Latrell has the world at his fingertips: a new gig with a famous band, plus his best friend on tour as his son's nanny. Life couldn't get much sweeter. Now if only he could stop imagining kissing the daylights out of his childhood BFF…
With one friend set on pushing the boundaries and the other afraid to rock the boat, one thing's for certain—their story would make one heck of a country song.
Deacon released a heavy breath. Sometimes the right thing felt a hell of a lot like nausea. Resolved with what he had to do, he looked at the door…then slowly dropped his hand.
He'd give it another few minutes.
Calling himself ten shades of coward, he redirected his steps. A hot shower would clear his head. Maybe he'd even pull a Hannah and rehearse what he'd tell her in advance. It always worked for her, helping her control her stutter, and though Deacon didn't have that particular problem, he was nervous as hell. If her head was even half as muddled as his was, this conversation wouldn't be easy.
Frustrated, he shoved open the bathroom door harder than necessary. Fog and heavily scented air rushed to greet him, and it took a second for the reason to register. When it did, he came to an abrupt stop with one hand on the doorknob and one foot still in the hall.
Candy and flowers.
As the steam disappeared through the crack in the door, a vision appeared, plucked straight from his recent fantasies. Creamy skin, pink from the shower and wet with liquid drops, topped anything his imagination could've conjured. Damp ginger curls clung to a slender throat that was arched back, making a sexy silhouette as full lips trembled in a silent speech to the ceiling. Dark, spiky lashes lay across a flushed cheek, hiding a pair of expressive eyes he'd know anywhere.
Torture, thy name was Hannah.
Gone was the girl he'd known in high school. Erased was the rock he'd depended on in college. The goddess in the shower was a woman, a beautiful woman, with tantalizing curves, shapely legs, and the most incredible smile he'd ever seen.
The arousal flowing through his veins mocked his previous so-called resolve.
"Cherry."
Her name came on a choked breath, but Hannah's eyes snapped open. Smooth skin turned to stone as she stared at the ceiling, wide-eyed, before slanting those green eyes toward him in horror.
"Deacon!" Frantic, she tried to cover her body, slinging one arm over her perfect breasts while reaching for the folded towel on the counter with the other, only to quickly draw back her hand and slap it over her lower half as well.
It was the hardest thing he ever did, keeping his eyes above her waist. Taking one step forward, he grabbed the terrycloth and handed it over, not trusting himself to get any closer. When she took it from his hands, she could hardly look into his eyes. Deacon's chest gave a hard kick.
Hannah made quick work of the towel, wrapping the terrycloth around her torso and clinging to the edges. She bit her lip and stammered, "Wh-what are y-you doing?"
It wasn't remotely funny. The reappearance of her stutter meant she was either stressed or anxious, two things he never wanted to be the cause of. But he couldn't help the laugh that broke free at the innocent question.
A full-bodied, unstoppable laugh that threw his head back with the force of it.
"What am I doing?" he repeated in amusement, hearing the gruffness of his own voice and dragging in a deep, floral-scented breath. "Oh, Cherry… I'm losing my ever-loving mind."
Tasty Q&A with Rachel Harris
Describe yourself in five words or less.
Silly, hopeful, romantic, and loyal.
What do you like to do when you aren't writing?
When I'm not writing, I'm a homeschool mom (my main job and passion in life), so you can usually find me with a book in hand and cuddled with my children. Or in my SUV driving the streets of Houston to one of their extracurriculars and hoping like heck Google Maps knows where it's going ;) Family time is very important to me and our days are hectic and full. If I'm not doing any of the above, I'll be in drinking wine with my husband or in the bathtub reading a good romance (a yummy candle is a must!).
A la Twitter style, please describe your book in 140 characters or less.
Love hides in the most surprising places: right under your nose, and sometimes, in the nanny's tour bus bunk #FallingForYourBestFriend #Oops
What types of scenes are your most favorite to write?
I've recently discovered that I LOVE writing scenes where the heroine is slightly tipsy lol. It's so much fun to see how my characters act, what they think, and definitely the things they say, where their guards are down and their confidence is high. Hilarious settings and situations are a definite plus!
How long have you been writing, and what (or who) inspired you to start?
In some ways, I've always been a writer, but I never finished a story or ever considered it a potential career until about seven years ago. My husband bought me the Twilight books and I fell back in love with reading—and I read so much and talked my husband's ear off so much that he suggested I try writing a book, too. It was summer break for our home school and my girls were very young, so I thought I'd give it a shot. I threw myself into research, studied my favorite books and read every blog post on writing from my favorite authors, and by August of 2010, I started what would later become The Fine Art of Pretending, one of my YA contemporary romances. I finished that by Thanksgiving, started My Super Sweet Sixteenth Century by January, and that book released the following year. In 2012, my fabulous editor at Entangled suggested I try writing an adult romance for a new imprint that she was launching, and I've been having a blast writing both ever since.
Is anything in your book based on real life experiences or purely all imagination?
Every book I write has some borrowed real life experience, and every character I create has a piece of me. Hannah's love of silly made-up songs is totally me (I even put in one of my children's favorites about muffins in the book, ha!), and I used my own memories with my kids for all things nanny. But the biggest experience that I borrowed for the book is probably a particularly epic moment that happens after Deacon and Hannah's first kiss! I won't spoil anything by giving it away, but let's just say what happens after that is a hodge-podge of TWO epic/embarrassing moments that happened in my own life. Hey, what good is it being an author if you can't write-in your most mortifying moments to share with the world, right?? LOL
"In twenty-five years, there were only ever two things he was proud of in his life: Being a father to his son, and being Hannah's friend."
Oh, my heart!!!
This book made me smile so much.
I enjoy friends-to-lovers romances the most!
Hannah and Deacon's friendship is something that you strive for, but the love they both share deep down, is inspiring!
Even though it's not said, or even shown, their love is there for so many to see.
Throw a sweet little boy named Max into the mix, and you have yourself one of the sweetest love stories!!
"She was his center of gravity, the calm in his storm."
This story was full of laughter, swoons, and pulls on your heartstrings.
You want these two together more than anything!
Rachel Harris knows how to write a great romance!!
Hannah and Deacon have stolen a piece of my heart! And I'm so smitten with his little boy!!
I can't wait for the next book within this series, because I don't want to give these characters up yet!!!
Soooooo good!!
"I promise I'll make you so damn happy."
"You already have."
New York Times bestselling author Rachel Harris writes humorous love stories about sassy girls-next-door and the hot guys that make them swoon. Vibrant settings, witty banter, and strong relationships are a staple in each of her books…and kissing. Lots of kissing.
An admitted bookaholic and homeschool mom, she gets through each day by laughing at herself, hugging her kids, and watching way too much Food Network with her husband. She writes young adult, new adult, and adult romances, and LOVES talking with readers!
Labels: ARC review, Blog Tour, Excerpt, Giveaway, Rachel Harris, Tasty Book Tours
Brewer Ross has given up on love…until he meets a
woman who turns his life—and brewery—upside down.
LIGHTSTRUCK
The Brewing Passion Series #2
Liz Crowe
Brewer Ross has given up on love…until he meets a woman who turns his life—and brewery—upside down.
Ross Hoffman held the potential for a perfect life in his hands—a life with Evelyn, the only woman he'd ever allowed himself to love, their baby and…her husband, Austin Fitzgerald, who also happened to be his best friend. But the challenge of trying to make a threesome into something acceptable—let alone the thought of actually sharing Evelyn with anyone—forces him to bolt. Determined to put all thoughts of their relationship behind him, Ross jumps headfirst into a new brewery job in Colorado, and back into the sort of sexual decadence that he hopes will distract him from his misery.
When he agrees to assist Austin through a spate of brewery mishaps, he lays eyes on his true fate—in the form of the petite, mysterious and exotic Elisa Nagel. Hired as assistant brewer, Elisa is absolutely everything he believes he doesn't want in a woman. But he's drawn to her in ways he can't explain, and he can't help but fall hard, fast and deep, which places him square in the middle of her horrific, until now secret backstory.
Ross is determined that his love will conquer and overcome the horrors of Elisa's past, allowing her to trust him with the only thing he desires—her heart.
Reader Advisory: This book contains a scene with attempted rape and violence, as well as a brief scene alluding to person being drugged and raped.
Don't miss ANY of the Brewing Passions Series
The next morning, she slunk into the brewery, the dread at having to face him like a noxious smoke filling her chest. Perversely, she craved the sight of him, the sound of his country-Bavarian accent when he spoke to her in their native tongue. All the while knowing that he didn't deserve to get caught up in her shit. Period.
But that kiss…Dear Lord, if anything were more wonderful in this world, she was hard pressed to know what it might be.
She sighed and hid behind a row of fermenters when she heard him barking orders at some hapless brewery assistant. Her scalp tingled and the tiny hairs on her arms rose as she listened to him.
"Don't do it, Elisa. Don't trust him."
She heard Austin holler for him from upstairs and breathed a sigh of relief when he replied that he'd be right up, leaving the main brewery floor free for her. Ears buzzing, she tried to make herself even smaller than she was—a trick she'd learned well during her time spent as a so-called submissive to The Monster.
A few hours of work calmed her jangling nerves. The smells and sounds of a brewery always did that for her. As she was checking the specific gravity of the IPA, pleased with how it had turned out, she sighed and allowed herself to relax. Whatever Austin had needed him for, Ross had stayed scarce for most of the day, thank the Lord in heaven.
"Hey," he said from right behind her. She screeched in shock, flinching to violently the hydrometer went flying up into the air. After juggling it a few times, she held it to her chest and turned to face him. "Nice catch." He smiled. Her heart wanted to melt. But she kept a tight grip on it, refusing to give in to that ever again.
"Persistent? Or perhaps just—"
He held up a hand. "I know, I know. Mouth-breathing idiot." He leaned against the stainless-steel sinks. She tried not to let it, but her gaze was drawn to his shoulders, his arms, his chest…and lower. Gulping, she focused on the floor. When he cleared his throat, she met his deep blue gaze. "All right. I have a plan." His tone was light and easy-going.
"Oh?" She set the expensive piece of brewery equipment beside the sink and turned on the water so she could wash out some of the stacked-up containers. Ignoring him, or at least attempting to, at the same time. "Does this plan involve the two of us? Because if so, you can forget it."
"It does. And I won't. Because I am persistent."
Fury nearly blinded her. She turned to face him, hands on her hips. "Do you want to fuck me?"
He blinked fast, and took a small step away from her. "I… I'm…"
"Because I can accommodate that. And then we can stop all this foolish…flirting or whatever. Let's clear the air." Her knees were shaking so hard she had to grip the edge of the sink for balance. "What do you say?" She jerked her chin up, trying to look brave. "A quick screw in the locker room, maybe? It's what you wanted last night, I think."
It's also what she wanted, but that was beside the point. He would be the first man to touch her intimately in almost eleven years. Also beside the point, because she was not going to let it happen.
"Stop it," he said, his brow furrowing into the familiar stubborn lines. "I am here to ask you out on a proper date. Like a nice guy. But if you want to fuck…" He lifted his chin. "I can accommodate that."
In a heartbeat, he'd pulled her close, his grip around her arms gentle, but firm. He slanted his lips over hers, grazing her cheeks with the roughness of his beard in a way that drove her half mad with lust. His tongue parted her lips and she let him, wrapped her arms around his neck and went way up on her tiptoes. She had never, ever felt this way about any man. Her need to have him, to be with him, to have him all over her, inside her, was so strong it took her breath away.
"That's right, little whore. That's what you want to do. You fuck that big Viking and see what happens to you when I find you and get you back where you belong. Just wait."
She gasped and struggled away from him, slapping hands over her ears. His gaze wasn't angry, or reproachful. It was soft and sympathetic.
"Okay, now that we have that out of the way, how about that date?" He raised an eyebrow, making her drop her hands to her sides and sigh.
"I am…how do you say…one hot mess. You don't want any part of me." She said this in English, something she always reverted to when she was trying like hell to reject him.
He thumped his chest with his fist and his grin widened, filling her with that ill-considered, yet oh-so comforting sensation of hope. "I am a big strong man. I like hot messes, especially yours." He reached out and touched the corner of her lips with his fingertip. She closed her eyes, turned her face away and grappled with herself a few seconds.
Amazon best-selling author, mom of three, Realtor, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, "Romance: Worth the Risk," which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the "HEA" and more in the "WHA" ("What Happens After?").
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.
Don't ever ask her for anything "like a Budweiser" or risk bodily injury.
Written by I'm A Book Shark at 5/31/2017 07:30:00 AM 1 comment:
Labels: Blog Tour, Excerpt, Giveaway, Tasty Book Tours
A seductive new series that sizzles with
the dark secrets of London's underworld...
FROM DUKE TILL DAWN
The London Underground #1
Eva Leigh
Eva Leigh launches a seductive new series that sizzles with the dark secrets of London's underworld...
Years ago, the Duke of Greyland gave his heart—and a princely sum of money—to a charming, destitute widow with unparalleled beauty. But after one passionate night, she slipped from his bed and vanished without a trace. And just when he's given up hope of ever seeing her again, Greyland finds her managing a gaming hell. He's desperate to have her… until he discovers everything about his long-lost lover was a lie.
In truth, Cassandra Blake grew up on the streets, picking pockets to survive. Greyland was a mark—to be fleeced and forgotten—but her feelings for the duke became all too real. Once he learns of her deception, however, the heat in his eyes turns to ice. When her business partner absconds with the gaming hell proceeds—leaving unsavory investors out for blood—Cassandra must beg the man she betrayed for help.
Greyland wants compensation, too, and he'll assist her under one condition: she doesn't leave his sight until her debts are paid. But it's not long before the real Cassandra—the smart, streetwise criminal—is stealing his heart all over again.
A woman laughed, and Alexander Lewis, Duke of Greyland felt the sound like a gunshot to his chest.
It was a very pleasant laugh, low and musical rather than shrill and forced, yet it sounded like The Lost Queen's laugh. Alex could not resist the urge to glance over his shoulder as he left the Eagle chophouse. He'd fancifully taken to calling her The Lost Queen, though she was most assuredly a mortal woman. Had she somehow appeared on a busy London street at dusk? The last time he'd seen her had been two years ago, in the spa town of Cheltenham, in his bed, asleep and naked.
The owner of the laugh turned out to be a completely different woman—brunette rather than blonde, petite and round rather than lithe and willowy. She caught Alex staring and raised her eyebrows. He bowed gravely in response, then continued toward the curb.
Night came on in indigo waves, but the shops spilled golden light in radiant patches onto the street.
The hardworking citizens of London continued to toil as the upper echelons began their evening revelries. Crowds thronged the sidewalk, while wagons, carriages, and people on horseback crammed the streets. A handful of pedestrians recognized Alex and politely curtsied or tipped their hats, murmuring, "Good evening, Your Grace." Though he was in no mood for politeness, responsibility and virtue were his constant companions—had been his whole life—and so rather than snapping, "Go to the devil, damn you!" he merely nodded in greeting.
He'd done his duty. He'd been seen in public, rather than disappearing into the cavernous chambers of his Mayfair mansion, where he could lick his wounds in peace.
The trouble with being a duke was that he always had to do his duty. "You are the pinnacle of British Society," his father had often said to him. "The world looks to you for guidance. So you must lead by example. Be their True North."
This evening, before dining, Alex had taken a very conspicuous turn up and down Bond Street, making certain that he was seen by many consequential—and loose-lipped— figures in the ton. Word would soon spread that the Duke of Greyland was not holed up, sulking in seclusion. His honor as one of Society's bulwarks would not be felled by something as insignificant as his failed marriage suit to Lady Emmeline Birks. The Dukes of Greyland had stood strong against Roundheads, Jacobites, and countless other threats against Britain. One girl barely out of the schoolroom could hardly damage Alex's ducal armor.
But that armor had been dented by The Lost Queen. Far deeper than he would have expected.
Standing on the curb, he signaled for his carriage, which pulled out of the mews. He tugged on his spotless gloves as he waited and adjusted the brim of his black beaver hat to make certain it sat properly on his head. "Always maintain a faultless appearance," his father had reminded him again and again. "The slightest bit of disorder in your dress can lead to rampant speculation about the stability of your affairs. This, we cannot tolerate. The nation demands nothing less than perfection."
Alex's father had been dead for ten years, but that didn't keep the serious, sober man's voice from his mind. It was part of him now—his role as one of the most powerful men in England and the responsibilities that role carried with it. Not once did he ever let frivolities distract him from his duties.
Except for one time . . .
Forcing the thought from his mind, Alex looked impatiently for his carriage. Just as the vehicle pulled up, however, two men appeared and grabbed his arms on each side.
Alex stiffened—he did not care for being touched without giving someone express permission to do so. People on the street also did not normally seize each other. Was it a robbery? A kidnapping attempt? His hands curled instinctively into fists, ready to give his accosters a beating.
"What's this?" one of the younger men exclaimed with mock horror. "Have I grabbed hold of a thundercloud?"
"Don't know about you," the other man said drily, "but I seem to have attached myself to an enormous bar of iron. How else to explain its inflexibility?" He tried to shake Alex, to little avail. When he wanted to be, Alex was absolutely immovable.
Alex's fingers loosened. He tugged his arms free and growled, "That's enough, you donkeys."
Thomas Powell, the Earl of Langdon and heir to the Duke of Northfield, grinned, a flash of white in his slightly unshaven face. "Come now, Greyland," he chided. A hint of an Irish accent made his voice musical, evidence of Langdon's early years spent in his mother's native County Kerry. "Is that any way to speak to your oldest and dearest friends?"
"I'll let you know when they get here." Alex scowled at Langdon, then at Christopher Ellingsworth, who only smirked in response.
Alex took a step toward his carriage, but Ellingsworth deftly moved to block his path, displaying the speed and skill that had served him well when he'd fought on the Peninsula.
"Where are you running off to with such indecorous haste?" Ellingsworth pressed. He held up a finger. "Ah, never tell me. You're running back to the shelter of your Mayfair cave, to growl and brood like some big black bear in a cravat."
"You know nothing," Alex returned, despite the fact that Ellingsworth had outlined his exact plans for the rest of the night.
Ellingsworth looked at Langdon with exaggerated pity. "Poor chap. The young Lady Emmeline has utterly shattered his heart."
Alex shouldered past Ellingsworth, only to have Langdon move to stand in his way.
"My heart is not shattered because of Lady Emmeline," Alex snapped. At least that much was the truth.
"But why shouldn't your heart be strewn in pieces throughout Regent's Park?" Langdon mused. "You courted the young lady for several months, and you told Ellingsworth and I that you'd already received her father's grateful acceptance of a marriage offer."
"She never agreed to anything," Alex said flatly.
"A modest girl, that Lady Emmeline." Ellingsworth nodded with approval. "She wouldn't have said yes right away. They never do. Nothing to be alarmed by."
"How would you know?" Alex's voice was edged. Ellingsworth had little experience with offering for ladies' hands, committed as he was to a life of reckless pleasure.
Langdon added, "It'd be unseemly for an earl's daughter to eagerly snap up a marriage proposal the moment it was offered."
Alex scowled. Despite the fact that, at thirty-eight, he was sixteen years her senior, they would suit well as a wedded couple. Lady Emmeline had been perfectly trained in the responsibilities of an aristocratic wife. Though he wished she stated her own opinion rather than constantly agreeing with him, there were worse faults one could find in a prospective bride.
They could marry at Christmas, eight months from now. It would be a small but elegant wedding, followed by a lavish breakfast and a wedding journey in the Lake District. And then, if everything went well, in less than a year, Alex and Lady Emmeline might welcome their first child—hopefully a boy so the line would be secure. It would've been precisely the sort of match Alex's
father would have approved, considering Lady Emmeline's faultless background and her spotless reputation.
"Look at him now, mooning away," Langdon sighed, smugly thwarting Alex's attempts to step around him. "He looks poorly."
It would be bad form to knock his friend to the ground. Damn the social niceties that dictated a man couldn't punch another without repercussions.
"Perhaps he should be bled," Ellingsworth suggested with his habitual smirk. It was his constant companion since returning from the War, as if he refused to take anything seriously.
"I am perfectly well." Alex looked back and forth between these two rogues whom he called friends. "No need to call for a quack."
"He's already had an amputation," Langdon noted, raising a brow as he always did. "One prospective bride—gone." He made a sawing motion at his ankle, as if cutting the shackles of matrimony.
Alex glanced down at his own lower leg, as if he could see the invisible links that might have bound him to Lady Emmeline. He'd come so close to becoming a married man and sharing the rest of his life with one woman—the faultless duke his father had bred him to be. It hardly mattered that Alex felt nothing for the gel other than a sense of distant respect. She would have made a fine duchess.
"We were at White's yesterday when we heard about what happened," Langdon said with disapproval. "Didn't even tell your two closest friends that Lady Emmeline had run off with a cavalry officer. No, we had to hear it from Lord Ruthven, of all people."
Tasty Q&A with Eva Leigh
Feminist who believes in HEA.
Can you tell us a little about your book?
Alexander Lewis, the Duke of Greyland, met a beautiful, destitute widow and lost his heart to her—but she disappeared. Two years later, the duke finds Cassandra again as she manages a gaming hell. Alex is prepared to offer Cassandra everything, even his name, until he discovers a gut-wrenching truth. Cassandra is not a genteel widow. She's a confidence artist, targeting aristocratic men with her swindles. Heartbroken and furious, Alex wants nothing to do with her. Fate steps in when Cassandra's business partner vanishes with the profits from the gaming hell, leaving Cassandra at the mercy of dangerous people. In desperation, Cassandra turns to Alex for help. Delving into London's underworld, they form an uneasy partnership as they track down her partner. Yet the passion they'd shared two years ago is nothing compared to their desire now. Can Alex protect himself, or will Cassandra once again steal his heart?
How did you come up with the concept and the characters for the story?
As with my Wicked Quills of London series, I enjoy having characters that aren't necessarily part of Regency High Society. I'm fascinated by confidence artists—their methods, their motivations—and thought it would be exciting to see what would happen when England's most morally upright duke falls for a morally ambiguous woman.
What did you enjoy most about writing this book?
Exploring the other, shadier side of Regency London was a lot of fun. That time period is so rich with possibility, with so many people of many different walks of life all living in one place. I also really enjoyed having Alex learn to lighten up a little and free his wild side. Nothing like a buttoned-up guy who loosens the reins of his control. (It turns out Alex likes talking dirty!)
Baking is one of my favorite things to do, because, unlike writing, you finish with a tangible result. Plus, you make something delicious. I read, of course, and spend too much time on the internet. When I'm feeling industrious, I crochet little soft toys called amigurumi and give them to friends.
Uptight duke. Beautiful con artist. Trouble and sexytimes ahead.
Tell us all about your main characters—who are they? What makes them tick? Most importantly, what one thing would they need to have with them if stranded on a desert isle? ;)
Alex has been born and bred to be a duke. Everything he does falls within a strict code of responsibility and honor. He doesn't fully understand degrees of morality. Having a brief, passionate affair with Cassandra two years ago was entirely out of character. Once she comes back into his life, he's shocked and infuriated to learn that he was just another mark. He's ready to write Cassandra off as a cold, calculating criminal—despite the fact that he still desires her. If Alex was stranded on a desert island, he'd need his walking stick. He doesn't have an injury that requires it, but a walking stick can be a useful took for building shelters, using to hunt for food, or making it into a sundial. He's a no-nonsense, practical guy!
Cassandra grew up alone on the rough streets of London. She had to learn how to survive in a brutal world. With no one to take care of her, she turned to crime as a way to keep from starving. Her life changed when she met a man who taught her the art of pretending to be a gentlewoman while swindling members of the gentry. Instead of sleeping on filthy hay, now she could rest her head on feather mattresses, and she had as much as she wanted to eat. She always thought of aristocrats as targets to be swindled, until she met Alex, who treated her with dignity and kindness. With Alex, she broke her rule of never sleeping with a mark, and later fled out of self-preservation. Cassandra is street wise, self-sufficient, and has learned to view everything with suspicion. Only Alex sneaks past her defenses. If she was stuck on a desert island, she'd be practical and take a small knife (which could also be used as a lock pick if she found buried treasure).
Do you have any advice to give to aspiring writers?
Find a way to sit down in front of your computer and just start writing. Even when you doubt yourself, you have to keep going. It's trite, but books really don't write themselves. And also, enjoy the process of writing simply to write. Success isn't a guarantee so we have to love what we do.
Eva Leigh is the pen name of a RITA® Award-nominated romance author who writes novels chock-full of smart women and sexy men. She enjoys baking, Tweeting about boots, and listening to music from the '80s. Eva and her husband live in Southern California.
Labels: Blog Tour, Excerpt, Giveaway, Q&A, Tasty Book Tours