E.H ON BOOKS AND MORE

Excerpt Day - Silent Warriors, Book 2 Tactical Deception © J.L. Saint

2012-03-15T00:05:00.000+00:00

Excerpt

I am not a victim, Mari Dalton silently whispered then gasped for air as she tightened her grip on the .22-caliber pistol. But she couldn’t see, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think past the fear. In her mind, Frank Dugar still had her hijab wrapped like a noose around her throat.

Nausea churned and a choking darkness closed in on her and her unborn child.

She had to escape.

Allah, forgive me. Hands trembling, she lowered the pistol and snatched off her headscarf before she fainted. She gasped again, drowning in the memory of Dugar’s attack, but refused to give in to it. Dugar is not here. He hasn’t been seen in weeks. The panic is all in my mind. Senior Airman Holly Gear is just a few feet away. Roger has men hunting Dugar. My baby is safe. She knew all of this in her head, but in her heart, she knew she was only safe for the moment.

Cool air reached her face and neck—especially her neck—and she sucked in oxygen. The panic enclosing her like a casket eased. Beneath the black folds of her abaya perspiration drenched her from head to toe and her heart hammered hard. She drew in more air and set her palm against her stomach. This wasn’t good for her baby; she had to do better.

Holly came up, clearly worried. “Are you all right? You’re ghost white.”

Mari steadied herself, inwardly groaning at her weakness. “I’m fine. Just a wave of nausea. The doctor said it is expected.”

“You’re sure it’s just morning sickness?”

“I’m sure.” She forced a smile. She had hoped self-defense lessons would ease her panic attacks and her growing sense of impending doom. Instead, both were worse, burying her deeper and deeper under layers of fear…and memories. It was especially bad at night, when she was all alone in the one place she shouldn’t be—Roger’s bed. Lt. Col. Roger Weston’s bed. Neil’s commanding officer. When Neil was alive.

She loved Neil.

She missed Neil.

And she resented her mind for allowing thoughts of Roger to intrude on her grief, just as much as she hated herself for the thoughts she’d had of Roger when Neil was alive. But she didn’t even dare think about that right now. She focused on the paper target up ahead. She could do this. With Neil gone, she could learn to take care of herself and her child.

“Let me try again,” she told Holly and lifted the pistol. She blinked at the target just thirty feet away, still feeling as if Dugar was at her throat. Her body had healed in the weeks since his attack. The stitches were out, the bruises were gone, the red scars on her hands and knees were fading, and she could move her broken fingers with minimum pain.

It was her mind that suffered and it wasn’t necessarily because Dugar had assigned himself as her executioner, either. It was because he made her realize she couldn’t escape her past. The fate decreed by her father years ago in Afghanistan would find her, no matter where she went. She’d been marked for death and death would follow. Her hope was to bear her child before death caught her, and to keep Roger from sacrificing his life trying to save her. Those were the only two things that mattered. Keep your eyes on the target. Let everything else go. Breathing deeply, she re-aimed the .22 and fired, absorbing the slight recoil and aiming again and again until the bullets were gone.

“Excellent.” Holly brought the target forward.

Mari winced with dismay. “How can you say that? One bullet hit the man in the arm. The rest are all in the white space.”

“It only takes one bullet to stop an attacker. You’ve made good progress. You kept your eyes open. You’re consistently hitting the paper and with each practice you tighten the spread of your shots.” She pointed to the clustered bullet holes just above the man’s left shoulder. “You did well, considering. I know how nausea destroys a girl’s aim.”

“You’ve had a child?” Mari had been so focused on learning self-defense over the past few weeks that she knew little about Holly’s personal life. Holly was from Georgia, an expert sniper from the National Guard, and she was at Fort Bragg to teach soldiers how to think like a female sniper.

“Heavens no. Marriage and kids aren’t even a gleam in my eye yet. I got the flu during a sharpshooting competition once and refused to quit. I was up against fifty men and wasn’t about to wimp out.”

“How did you do?”

Holly grinned. “Kicked butt. Came in third.”

“You’re amazing.” Mari envied Holly’s independence and confidence.

“No. Just stubborn. And you’re too pale for my piece of mind. Are you sure you’re all right? Roger would never forgive me if something happened to you on my watch, especially with me taking you off base.”

“It doesn’t help that I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Thinking about Neil?”

Mari lowered her gaze, guilt eating at her. Her tears flowed less and less now. Yes, she thought about Neil. Almost every minute of the day she had to remind herself that her husband, her friend, the man who’d saved her from death in a windowless cell and had loved her despite her shame, was gone. But at night, when she was alone in Roger’s room, when she lay in Roger’s bed, it wasn’t Neil on her mind.

Surely Allah would never forgive her. Two years ago Roger had walked into her and Neil’s house and she’d met him for the first time. His blue gaze had pierced all the way to her soul in one look and no amount of prayer had wiped him from her mind. From that moment on she’d avoided Neil’s commander as much as possible. Only Allah knew how Roger affected her.

She truly had to be as unworthy inside as her father had believed. Otherwise, how could she love and miss Neil, yet be so deeply drawn to Roger? How could her pain-filled heart race when Roger walked into the room? How could her aching-for-Neil self want to lay her head back on Roger’s shoulder and feel his arms around her again?

Roger had carried her to the ambulance and had held her comfortingly close after Dugar’s attack when she’d feared she was losing her baby. He’d eased her pain, reassured her that it was going to be all right, and had left her no doubt he’d protect her with his dying breath. She wanted to feel that enveloping comfort again, but she couldn’t let that happen. With her fate, it would surely sign his death warrant.

© J.L. Saint

Tactical Deception

Silent Warriors, Book 2

Author: J.L. Saint

Publisher: Samhain Publishing

Genre: Romantic Suspense, Men In Uniform

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One tormented soldier. One woman. Eight snipers. Someone’s going down…

Silent Warriors, Book 2

The fallout from the team’s failed mission to Lebanon is still chewing Lt. Col. Roger Weston’s butt. God help them all if the media get wind of the real story. Worse, guilt is eating him alive over a decision that left a fallen warrior’s wife without a husband…and exposed to danger from her radical family.

No matter what, Mari Dalton’s safety and wellbeing—and that of her unborn child—come first.

Mari is certain God is punishing her. She loved the man who rescued her from a windowless cell in Afghanistan, and never betrayed their marriage. But she has never been able to forget her body’s reaction to Roger. The pounding heart, the burning senses, sinful thoughts run wild.

Now she is the target of terrorists bent on destroying the heart of America. As Roger lays his life on the line to protect her, they uncover a plot already in motion to assassinate the President. As the world teeters on the edge of chaos, any hope for a future rests in Roger’s already bloodstained hands…and the quietly faithful woman who holds his heart.

BOOK BLOGGERS AND PUBLISHERS ONLINE CONFERENCE

2012-03-05T17:09:00.001+00:00

Looking for a conference online to talk about books , the industry and connect with a great bunch of guys and gals this weekend – well look no further

The third year of the Book Bloggers and Publisher’s Online is here.. well almost here, MARCH 7-11, 2012 is the official start date but of course registration and all that other good stuff is going on at the moment..

Like what you ask..

Well there is the private Ning group that you can hang out in until the meeting start.

If you jump onto the conference site Book Bloggers and Publisher’s Online you will have a chance to see all the panels being hosted and so be able to plan your schedule accordingly.

and then of course there is the free stuff – yes there’s free stuff - loads of free book - but you have to sign up to have your pick.. Go over to the site to have a look at the lot on offer.

and lastly – you remember I mention a great bunch of guys and gals - well all of these guys and gals brings something to conference – whether it’s their own professional expertise (lawyers, authors, editor, owner, graphic artist etc) or just enthusiasm for the book blogger-land that we all know and love… whatever it is, something is there for everyone.

Terry Kate from Romance in the Backseat who is the organizer of the event is hosting a pre-panel chat this evening March 05th at 8.30pm EST for all those who wanted to call in and get more info on the event or just listen in ..

Here’s the LINK (Linked to Talkshoe.com)

Looking forward to seeing you there…

Well

happy birthday dr. seuss!

2012-03-02T08:37:00.001+00:00

Excerpt Day - My True Love Gave to Me © Ava March

2012-01-05T21:34:00.001+00:00

Excerpt

From Chapter Four...

A full moon hung high in the sky, gilding the back garden in silvery light. A breeze which carried a hint of dampness slid around him. To think he had once considered the winters cold in London. The night was downright mild compared to the frigid temperatures that gripped hold of New York. He scanned the terrace which stretched across a good portion of the back of the mansion and then scanned the surrounding grounds. No sign of Sasha, or anyone else for that matter.

Undeterred, he took the stairs and followed the dirt path that led into the garden. Neatly manicured hedges of about chest height bordered the path. He stretched out a hand, brushed one of the bushes and then stopped in his tracks.

The night air carried the sound of a muted voice. A male voice. Then the distinct sound of footsteps on wooden floorboards. He peered into the darkness, but he could not make out what was hidden behind the small cluster of trees ahead.

He heard the crunch of dirt beneath shoes before a figure appeared from around a bend in the path. Tall as himself and broad of shoulder. His heart did not even have the chance to leap on to the possibility before it became obvious the man was not Sasha.

"Pardon," the man said, gruff with impatience, as he brushed past Thomas.

Thomas's head snapped over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed. Why had that man been buttoning his coat?

He looked back up the path, beyond it to the cluster of trees which likely hid a gazebo or similar ornamental structure common in the gardens of the aristocracy. Suspicion formed in the pit of his stomach.

His strides now swift, he continued along the path and found a white gazebo in a clearing beyond the trees. Inside was none other than Sasha. Even with his hands braced on the far rail, slumped back to Thomas and golden head bowed, he knew it was him.

His footsteps echoed on the wooden steps as he went inside. "Who was that man?"

Sasha straightened. For a long moment, not a sound broke the silence. Then Sasha turned to face him. "Linus Radcliffe."

Radcliffe? The man was a known rake of the worst order, or at least he had been before Thomas had left London. Hot and swift, jealousy coursed through his veins at the mere thought of Radcliffe laying even one hand on Sasha, never mind whatever had necessitated buttoning his coat afterward. "You were meeting withhim?"

"In what fashion does it concern you?"

None. Thomas had no right at all to jealousy. Yet he could not deny it, and it hurt tremendously to know Sasha had left the ball to meet another man when he knew Thomas was there.

And in a gazebo out of doors, no less, where anyone could have walked by and seen him. Had the man no sense?

"Why are you here?" Sasha asked, breaching the distance between them.

He stopped less than a pace from Thomas. So close, the night air carried the scent of his skin, of Sasha, awaking old memories he would never forget. Had never been able to forget, no matter how he had once tried.

It had been so very hard, coming to terms with the feelings Sasha roused within him. He'd spent a good three years fighting them, but even working himself from dawn until past dusk for endless days managing one of his uncle's hotels had not done a bit of good to rid Sasha from his thoughts or from his heart. And the past few monthsâ€¦ He resisted the urge to shake his head at himself. Why had he thought someone else could possibly take Sasha's place? Ridiculous, and a pathetically desperate notion.

But if nothing else, the time apart simply reinforced what he'd known from the first moment he'd pressed his lips to Sasha's—that there would be no one else for him.

"Why are you here?" Sasha demanded again.

"I wish to speak with you, Sasha."

Sasha glared at him. A shiver gripped Thomas's spine. He felt the chill in that stare, even in the darkness of the shadows. A firm reminder Thomas no longer deserved the use of the intimate name, but he couldn't bring himself to call him by his family name. The man could never be anyone but Sasha to him.

"About?"

He shrugged, distinctly uncomfortable in the face of Sasha's obvious hatred, and well deserved hatred at that. "It has been some time since we have spoken."

"And with good cause." Sasha flicked his fingers, an impatient little motion for Thomas to move aside. "I need to return to the ballroom."

He stood his ground. "I wish to speak to you."

The shadows from the wooden beams overhead could not mask the way Sasha's beautiful features hardened. "We have nothing to discuss."

"Yes, we do."

"No. You left me," Sasha shot back, the iron in his tone poorly masking the pain behind the words.

Thomas flinched. Sasha might as well have punched him in the gut, for the effect was the same. The wind knocked from his lungs, his senses left reeling.

© Ava March

My True Love Gave to Me

Part of the 'Men Under the Mistletoe' Holiday Anthology

Author: Ava March

Publisher: Carina Press

Genre: Regency-set M/M erotic romance

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Alexander Norton loathes the festive season. The revelry of the ton is a reminder of Christmas four years ago, when his first love, Thomas Bennett, broke his heart and fled to New York without a word. So when he encounters Thomas at a holiday ball, Alexander is determined not to let on how much he still hurts.

Thomas has returned for one reason only: Alexander. Having finally come to terms with his forbidden desires, he will do whatever he must to convince Alexander to give their love another chance. But instead of the happy, carefree man Thomas once knew, Alexander is now hard and cynical. Saddened to know he's to blame for the man's bitterness, Thomas resolves to reignite the passion he knows lies hidden behind the wall of disdain...

Excerpt Day - Hunks: Too Hot to Touch © Marie Rochelle

2012-01-05T16:08:00.000+00:00

Excerpt

Prologue

"I can't believe this is happening to me." Shauntie Kane watched as the water dripped down from the ceiling onto her brand new mahogany kitchen table.

For over a month now, she'd known about the roof leak, but she'd put getting it fixed at the bottom of her list because of demands from her job as an optometrist. She didn't think it would get this serious so rapidly. Unfortunately now, her procrastination had led to a huge puddle in the center of her table which was getting larger right before her eyes.

Good God! When would she have time to call a roofer to come and see about all of this? Her hectic work schedule was booked solid and this new situation only added to her tribulations. Why couldn't this have occurred when she was on vacation? No, it had to arise right now, when she was having her busiest time at work.

Damn, she already had enough bills to pay this month and her lucrative job as an eye doctor didn't make a bit of difference. She hatedspending extra money. From a very young age, she'd watched as her mother saved money and only spent it when necessary. Her mother's favorite saying was ‘save a penny for a rainy day.' She didn't believe in wasting money; however, her need to save money was the main reason her roof was in this condition.

Shauntie could only imagine the price the roofer would quote to fix the leaky roof. Without a doubt, it would probably cost an arm, leg and another one of her body parts thrown in for good measure.

She might actually have to take a part time job on the side to foot the bill, she thought jokingly.

Sighing, Shauntie took one last look at her increasing predicament before walking into the laundry room. Looking around the room, she searched for the small white bucket she'd placed there a few days ago. It wasn't the best, but it would give the water something to collect in besides on top of her table.

Finally, she spotted the bucket beside the dryer. Shauntie picked it up then grabbed a towel out of the dirty clothes' hamper before she left the room. Going back into the kitchen, she wiped up all of the excess water with the towel before placing the bucket directly under the steady drip.

There, that should take care of her problem for a while.

She went back into the laundry room and tossed the soaked towel into the washing machine. Tonight wasn't turning out as she expected at all. She should already be out of the house and enjoying her usual Friday night cocktail with her friends.

Sapphire and Emerald were probably already at the nightclub having drinks and talking about their day while waiting on her to show up. Why was she constantly the one running late when her best friends invited her out? Lately something out of the blue always seemed to come up at the last minute to keep her late at work or home.

In the last two months, Shauntie knew she hadn't arrived to the club on time for her girl's night, and what was worse, she was the one who arranged the get togethers.

Tonight, she'd finally hoped to change her bad habits by getting dressed earlier, but her idea hadn't work because here she was once again still at home trying to make it out of the front door.

Of course, Sapphire and Emerald weren't going to let her hear the last of this since she'd practically gloated about how she was going to beat the two of them there tonight.

Damn! Why did she have to brag about something she knew might not happen? Shauntie hated losing at anything and especially at something trivial like this.

She could have been at the club twenty minutes ago and won the bet if she hadn't needed to take care of this stupid leak. What person in their right mind wouldn't have gotten it looked at after the first sign of trouble?

However, like always she thought things would wait until she had the time to fix them on her schedule and that was never the case. This incident had taught her a well deserved lesson.

Hurrying out of the laundry room, Shauntie grabbed her stuff off the kitchen island and rushed into the living room. She did a very quick tour through her house making sure everything was locked and secured before going out the front door. She hoped her friends hadn't been waiting too long for her because Emerald would be the first one to speak up if they had. Shauntie pulled her dark blue BMW out of the driveway and headed down the street towards the nightclub where her friends were waiting. She couldn't wait until she took a sip of her first drink.

After the long hours she worked this week along with the two eye surgeries she'd performed yesterday, Shauntie needed something sinful to release all of the tension from her body and since there wasn't a hot, attractive guy in the picture to do it with sex, a good drink would have to suffice.

The thought of having a couple of drinks and a night out with her girls sounded like the perfect way to alleviate the strain that had taken control of her racing mind and tired body.

Shauntie couldn't wait until she got to her destination because she wanted to flirt with some good-looking guys and have a good time with her friends. This wouldn't be a problem with Sapphire or Emerald at her side since they constantly had some kind of wild and adventurous stories to help take her mind off her own pitiful dating life.

Her two best friends never seemed like they were ever lacking in the boyfriend department. She couldn't recall the last time either Sapphire or Emerald didn't have a date planned during the week or at least on the weekends.

Yes...it had been a while since a man had shared her bed or taken part of making her glad she was a woman. But did she really have to get excited this morning when an attractive guy struck up a conversation with her at the gas station while she was pumping gas.

How sad was she? Sheesh. What would her friends say if they knew she was lonely from lack of male companionship? One thing was for sure, Sapphire and Emerald would never find out because she wasn't about to tell them.

She didn't want to get dragged into one of their dating schemes again. They were always trying to find her a man and all she wanted to do was relax and have a little fun tonight.

© Marie Rochelle

Hunks: Too Hot to Touch

Author: Marie Rochelle

Publisher: Phaze Books

Genre: Contemporary

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Nash Wentworth knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help falling in love with Shauntie Kane. She was the perfect woman in his eyes: Intelligent, beautiful and independent. His life should have been perfect; however, there was one little problem. She had dated one of his friends and wasn't interested in going down the same road with him.

Shauntie Kane was as strong willed as a woman could be and didn't mind saying what was on her mind. This meant Nash had to do a lot more than use his good looks to impress her and work his way into her life.

Nash isn't turned off by Shauntie's bluntness; in fact, it is a turn on for him. Can Nash's determination make Shauntie see that he is able to handle anything she tosses his way?

2012-01-05T12:15:00.000+00:00

Excerpt

Damn. Mike looked good. A little older, sure, but Jason had seen the guy on TV enough to expect that. And he wore his age well. Still fit, of course, and the light crinkle of lines around his eyes just made him look like he spent a lot of time smiling. No trace of gray in his light brown hair, no hint of jowls on his square jawline. The wire-rimmed glasses were new, and Jason wondered if they were really needed or if Mike was just trying to set himself apart from his playing days.

He remembered how he and Mike had always been compared to each other, and told how alike they looked, and wondered whether he’d held up to the years as well as his old friend. But there was no time for further speculation, because Mike was walking forward, his hand outstretched, and Jason needed to get himself in gear. “Jason. Or Coach, I guess.” A quick, easy smile. “It’s good to see you.” They shook hands and Mike raised his free hand to grasp Jason’s shoulder. It was a standard manly greeting, but Jason really didn’t want the additional contact. He made himself smile and stepped backward as soon as he could justify it.

“Good to see you too.” He turned to Walt Kowalchuk, the team’s General Manager, who had accompanied Mike into the room. “Walt.” A nod in acknowledgment, and Jason continued. “You’ve still got time to meet after practice?”

“I’ve got all the time you need, Coach. But that’s not what you’re going to ask me for, is it?” Walt was an old pro, having bounced around half the hockey world before settling in Pine River for the last few years of his career, and he was good at his job. But not good enough to always have money for Jason’s projects. He didn’t wait for an answer. “But let’s focus on the positive.” He clapped his hand on Mike’s shoulder and turned toward the anxiously hushed team. “Guys, let me introduce you to Mike Whitby. I think you may have heard of him.”

The tension eased a bit as the boys laughed, and then Walt continued. “He’s got some time to talk to you all today, and if we’re lucky… I notice he brought his skates with him. You guys want to practice with an NHLer?”

Just before the boys erupted into a puppy-like frenzy of enthusiasm, Kelly spoke up. He was an “over age” player, kept around not for his skill, but for his sheer toughness. “Did he bring his pads and a helmet too?” Kelly’s voice was cool, showing that he refused to be impressed by the visitor, and there was just enough of a challenge in it to make Jason have to hide a grin. Kelly was good for the team.

The Wolverines were the up-and-coming players, and they should be respectful to someone who’d already made it, but not subservient. If Mike was really going to practice with them, he should be ready to work and, yeah, ready to take a few hits. If he wasn’t, if he was just there to skate around a little, well, the team should see that for what it was.

But apparently Walt didn’t share Jason’s attitude, and he was frowning at Kelly before Mike spoke up. “I didn’t. I retired for a reason, you know.” He grinned, making it clear that this wasn’t a tragedy. “I’m about done taking hits from guys as tough as Kelly Dunlop.”

Damn, that was impressive. Mike knew the kid’s name, and Kelly was just a grinder, not a star. Jason remembered the shy, introverted kid he’d known and wondered when Mike had gotten so smooth. Wherever the skill had come from, it was certainly being used to good effect here. The team was grinning again and Kelly looked completely won over.

Jason needed to get the team in gear before they turned into a bunch of little girls swooning over a matinee idol. “Okay, guys, enough chat, let’s get on the ice. You can talk to Mr. Whitby after the practice.” But even with visitors in the locker room, they still had their ritual, and the boys were clearly waiting for it.

Jason grinned and nodded. Okay. “Where’s the game, boys?” he asked, his voice loud and ringing.

The answer was even louder. The boys moved as one, tapping their temples twice, then thudding a fist over their chests. “HEAD, HEAD, HEART!” they yelled in unison, and then they sprang into action. They grabbed their gear, headed out the door and Mike stood and watched them go.

When the last player trailed out of the locker room, Mike turned toward Jason. “‘Mr. Whitby’?” he said quietly, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “I like that. About time I got a little respect out of you.”

But Jason couldn’t do it, couldn’t fall back into the old rapport that easily. They’d been teammates and they’d been friends. And then, briefly, they’d been more, before it had all fallen apart. Sure, it had been a long time, but that didn’t mean Jason was over it. No, wait. He was over it, he just wasn’t… whatever. He wasn’t ready to pretend it hadn’t happened. That sounded better.

He sat down and pulled his own skates out of his gear bag. He just needed to focus on hockey. The game made sense and he understood it. The best thing about being on the ice had always been the way it let him leave the confusion on the other side of the glass.

He felt the bench move a little as someone sat next to him, and without looking up from the skate he was lacing, Jason knew it was Mike. Jesus, his voice, and now his smell. The guy must have changed colognes at some point in the last fifteen years. Jason couldn’t remember young Mike having ever worn any, actually, and now there was a faint spiciness that probably cost more than Jason made in a month. But underneath it, somehow, was Mike. Mike, who Jason was completely over, he reminded himself. Fifteen years. He was not that pathetic.

Mike was lacing up his own skates, but he was also clearly waiting for Jason to say something. “Welcome home,” he managed. It was stupid, of course. Mike had been back in town since the summer and it was well past Christmas now. He’d already been welcomed back by everyone who meant anything. Jason was just babbling.

But Mike didn’t seem to think so. He bounced a little on the old wooden bench, looked down at their skate-clad feet and grinned. “Yeah, thanks,” he said. “It’s good to be back.”

© Kate Sherwood

Home Ice

Author: Kate Sherwood

Publisher: Liquid Silver Books

Genre: GLBT, Erotica

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When they were young men playing on the same hockey team, the heat between Jason and Mike had been almost enough to melt the ice they were skating on. But Mike went off to be a star in the NHL and Jason stayed behind to start his life as the dedicated, deeply closeted coach of the town’s junior hockey team.

Now Mike is back in town and Jason finds that their passion burns as hot as ever. But they’re both still in the closet, and when Jason is threatened with exposure, he freezes. The flames of desire can’t melt Jason’s fears but maybe, just maybe, the warmth of love will thaw the ice.

E.H ON BOOKS AND MORE

Excerpt Day - Silent Warriors, Book 2 Tactical Deception © J.L. Saint

BOOK BLOGGERS AND PUBLISHERS ONLINE CONFERENCE

happy birthday dr. seuss!

Excerpt Day - My True Love Gave to Me © Ava March

Excerpt Day - Hunks: Too Hot to Touch © Marie Rochelle

Excerpt Day - Home Ice © Kate Sherwood