tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3971521718778359852024-03-12T18:39:34.630-07:00Short and Sweet RomanceDiscover new authors that write short form romance.Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-70250214323845528842017-12-23T13:48:00.003-08:002017-12-23T13:48:56.193-08:00"Wild for Him" by Katie Cody (Paranormal Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51xmsq91TzL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="333" height="320" src="https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/51xmsq91TzL.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Paranormal Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Zara Lockhart's dream vacation turned into a nightmare when she and her father were kidnapped by criminals after stumbling upon bandits in the jungles of Africa. She escapes her captors only to run into the deadly animals that lived among the jungle's dense vegetation. Her only hope of survival and the rescue of her father hinges on Lutalo Gund, a mysterious man who seems at one with the jungle. He and his tribe have promised to help her rescue her father, but she cannot help wondering who will save her from Lutalo's desire filled gaze.<br /><br />Lutalo Gund is a gorilla shifter living in the jungle with his family and fellow shifters. In the wilds of Africa they live in peace except for the few diamond hunters who ransack their nesting grounds. It is during one of their scouting missions to check on the diamond hunter's camps that he finds a lone woman running for her life. He realizes instantly that she is his destined mate, but with the hunters still terrorizing the area and her father in danger he cannot celebrate quite yet. Now he must find a way to not only keep her safe, but convince her the jungle is where she belongs.<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Chapter 1</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The thick rope chafed against her skin causing blood to drip down her arms and slicken her hands. She stifled her yelp of pain, fear and perspiration flowing down her body. Their guard was on a bathroom break, but he wouldn’t be gone for long. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Don’t worry dad, I’m almost free,” she whispered. He sat across from her bound in a similar fashion. However, unlike her he was in far worse shape. Their captors beat him when he tried to protect her. She knew if they stayed much longer they would be killed. She continued working the small knife against her restraints, thankful she had kept it in her boot. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A snap and she was free. She took a moment to work her wrists and savored the feeling of being able to move them once again. Wiping them on her cargo pants to clean the blood off she quickly made her way over to her father. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We’re getting out of here now,” she murmured to her father working on the rope binding his hands. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Suddenly rustling in the nearby leaves signaled that the guard was coming back. Her heart rate spiked and she tried to work faster, but the ropes were thick and the knife she had was barely bigger than a match. It was a decoration piece she had hoped to bring back to her sister, but it was all she had.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Zara, you must go. There’s no time,” her father pleaded brokenly. His voice revealing the depth of pain he was experiencing.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tears sprang to her eyes as the footsteps sounded closer, “I can’t dad…I can’t,” she kept working, but one look in her father’s eyes and she saw the hopelessness there.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She was about to tell him to quit thinking like that when someone ripped her back, “You bitch, what are you doing,” the rough voice of their guard shouted, hauling her away from her father and making her drop the knife in the process.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No,” she screamed, but it was too late. She would never be able to save her father now. Thinking fast she kicked out at the man, pleased when it connected with his gut, causing him to double over and release her in the process.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Taking the chance, she ran, making her way into the dark jungle. The vines and leaves tearing at her clothes as she ran. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The thick jungle stretched out before her. Dark shadows creeped through every corner and for a moment she feared the unseen dangers lurking there. Doubt crept in and she wondered how she would even survive the night with the darkness already creeping in.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her thoughts were interrupted by shots being fired from somewhere behind her, spurring her on. She shook her head knowing she had no choice, tearing through the brush she prayed any nearby predators would be scared off by the gunfire.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She had just run through a bunch of leaves and vines when she felt the ground disappear from underneath her. Looking down she saw the drop and sucked in a breath before tumbling head over heels down the hill.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her body burned where the various branches tore open her clothes adding to her wounds.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When she finally came to a stop she slowly pushed at the ground gasping at the pain. With great effort, she made it to her feet only to freeze instantly.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She stood in a clearing surrounded by giant trees and foliage that nearly blacked out the sun. Staring back at her all around the clearing was the angry glare of gorillas. They hooted and stamped, growing louder by the minute. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her whole body grew cold. She knew now this would be her end. There was no way she could outrun them. Nowhere to hide. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Stepping out of the throng was the biggest gorilla yet. He stood tall and defiant, eyes locking with hers. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She felt something surge in her at that moment. Something like excitement, but she quickly lowered her eyes. She remembered that you should never look a wild animal in the eyes as it was seen as a challenge. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lowering her eyes seemed to have the opposite effect however, as the gorilla seemed to become enraged.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bellowing so loudly it sent a chill down her spine the gorilla stalked toward her. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When he was inches from her he bent his head sniffing at her hair. She did her best to remain still, but a small whimper escaped.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He snorted and when she peeked up she noticed he no longer glared, but instead looked…concerned. She shook her head at the thought knowing how ridiculous it was.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her heart jumped to her throat when she felt the rough hand of the gorilla lightly brushing over one of the more serious cuts on her shoulder. She flinched, “Please don’t.”</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Almost as if the gorilla understood her, he slowly retracted his hand. Hooting softly, he bent down to gaze into her eyes.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Despite herself, she looked up and gasped. She knew she must be going crazy because when she gazed back at the gorilla his eyes seemed almost human. Without realizing it she moved closer and found herself reaching for the fearsome creature.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She was snapped out of her daze when a bullet whizzed just inches from her head. She fell to the ground in surprise and fear. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Looking up she saw the gorilla had now positioned himself in front of her. With a fearsome growl, he stood on hind legs and beat his chest bellowing in anger.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She saw the guard from before standing at the edge of the clearing gun raised. Before he could get another shot the gorilla charged. The ground shuttered as all around them the gorillas screeched and howled. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Within moments the gorilla had reached the guard whose eyes had widened in pure fear. A scream bubbled in her throat as she saw him being thrown into a nearby tree, “Oh god,” she whispered frightened beyond belief at the gorilla’s fury. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Another shot rang out from somewhere near the first guard and for a second she thought they must have hit the gorilla. She didn’t have long to question her sudden distress at the gorilla’s possible demise when she felt the searing pain bloom in her right shoulder.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Looking down at her blood-stained shirt she felt numb. The world seemed to spin and the edges of her vision began to turn black. The last thing she saw before the world slipped away was the enraged face of a gorilla charging toward her.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;" /></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Chapter 2</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Lutalo,” his friend Darth growled from behind him, “We searched the area, there is a camp not far from here.”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lutalo grunted, “We move out at once, if they have camped here more will follow soon after.” He didn’t know what these humans were doing so far out into the jungle, but it was never good having them so close.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Have you sent for Rashidi? The wound is bad and will need attention right away,” he ordered looking back to the woman in his arms with concern. His blood boiled at the memory of her fall when she was hit. The blood staining her clothes causing a red haze to cloud his vision. The screams of pain from the foolish human who dared threaten her wasn’t enough to quench his thirst for blood.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Of course, Lutalo,” Darth assured him, “He will be with you as soon as we reach the nesting grounds,” he looked to the woman a little dubiously. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He had to suppress the urge to lash out at his friend. He was already on edge from the attack and having males so close to his female had him dangerously close to losing it. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That was the one thing he knew for certain above all else, this female was his. He knew it the moment he saw her tumble into his territory. The sight of her dark hair and milky white skin lit a fire in him he was sure would never be extinguished, but her scent was what did him in. The most intoxicating aroma he had ever come across belonged to the small woman he now held. It told him all he needed to know about her, whoever she was, wherever she came from, she was his mate.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He lifted her in his arms, careful not to jostle her too much. The rest of his group were still in gorilla form, but he had shifted back to make carrying her much easier. She barely came up to his chest even in his human form. Her small body fit easily into his arms and in her unconscious state she snuggled closer to him. He savored the feel of her body against his as he made his way to their nesting grounds.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When they reached they reached the pack he made his way to Rashidi, “She needs medical attention now,” he growled.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rashidi stood unwavering in the face of his anger. He was the only one who didn’t cower before him having taken care of him since he was an infant, “What have you brought home this time,” Rashidi asked looking down into his mate’s face.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rashidi carefully examined the various wounds marking the woman, “Most are only minor cuts, but her shoulder will need stitches. Bring her to the hut and I will get to work,” he said before walking on ahead. He was one of the few still in human form as he didn’t shift into his gorilla as often as the rest of the troop since he was the healer and found it much easier to work with human hands.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Lutalo watched the healer work and thought back to the moment he saw her. She was running from something that was for certain. She wore cargo pants and a white t-shirt that looked like it had seen better days, but it was a tourist outfit for sure. She also didn’t seem to know the jungle very well. Going in with no protection was never a good idea, but it no doubt had something to do with the humans who had shot at her. He would have to question her once she was awake to find out why they were chasing her and maybe figure out why they were so close to his territory in the first place.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“There, all done. She should heal fine, but you’ll need to make sure to change the bandages every so often to avoid any infection,” he wiped the sweat off his brow, “So you finally found your mate,” he asked blue eyes twinkling, “Never thought I’d see the day.”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Staring down into the angelic features of the woman before him he couldn’t keep the grin off his face, “Yes, it seems so.”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You’ll probably want to stick to your human form for a while. The girl looks like she’s been through a lot and frightening her as a gorilla will do more harm than good,” Rashidi said, running a hand through his greying hair.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He grunted, “I agree. I think I’ll keep her away from the troop for a while as well. Just until I mark her.”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rashidi gave him a knowing look, “Mating fever riding you hard?”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He nodded without saying a word. The only reason he could be so calm with Rashidi working on his mate was because he was already mated. The rest of the troop consisted of mainly unmated males. Unlike normal gorillas they didn’t have quite as many females and so their troops were smaller and largely male. It was why he was so surprised to find a mate. He was truly blessed and until he could mark her and bind her to him properly he intended to keep his distance from the rest of the troop.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I understand, but before you go I have one last thing,” Looking through his stack of medicine he pulled out a small tube of ointment before handing it to Lutalo, “This will help protect her skin from the sun, she seems to be getting a little pink and with her complexion she will need it.”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With a nod in thanks to Rashidi, he gathered the woman in his arms and made his way back to his nest. Where he planned to care for and woo his mate. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once inside his nest which was a small hut built into one of the highest parts of the trees he carefully laid her out onto a bed of leaves before grabbing the ointment for her skin. He added a good amount to his hands before gently applying it to her skin starting at her neck. He gently massaged the cream onto her, making his way down her chest. He made sure to avoid the cuts and scrapes she had, but also made sure to get any visible skin. Once he finished her arms he reached down to her ankles reveling in the warm softness under his fingers. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She started to stir and let out a small moan at his actions. The sound sent a shiver of desire through him, but he kept going until he reached the tops of her thighs. Once there he could feel the heat of her and groaned. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He shook his head not wanting to take advantage, but the sight of her flushed skin and parted lips was almost too much too bear. Before he could think too much he found himself inches from her lips, “Just a taste,” he whispered.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pressing his lips to hers in a gentle caress his mouth watered at the sweetness he tasted. He suckled first the bottom and then the top before deciding to stop, but before he could she began to respond. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Slow at first, but then stronger she pressed her silken lips to his molding to him so sweetly he could barely hold himself in check. Hands to either side of her head he coaxed her lips to part and flicked his tongue against hers. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She moaned long and low before her eyes fluttered to meet his. He found himself staring into forest green depths that suddenly filled with fear.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Before he could react, she was pulling away and rushing to the other side of the hut. She stood trembling and vulnerable against the wall, “Who…who are you,” she stuttered.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He closed his eyes willing his desire to cool before meeting hers once more, “I am Lutalo Gund, your mate.”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Chapter 3</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What do you mean…I’m your mate? Look buddy, I don’t even know you and I’m not that kind of girl,” her voice trembled.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Zara stood, back against a wall that looked a lot like bamboo shoots. Before her stood the most magnificent man she had ever seen. He stood at least six feet, his head nearly scraping the wall of the simple hut they now stood in. His eyes were a light brown that reminded her of her favorite chocolate and his hair hung down to his shoulder in black waves, but she could swear it looked to have a faint silver streak right down the middle. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His jaw was hard and covered in a dark stubble that hid the ends of a few scars that ran down his cheeks. He had broad shoulders with bronzed skin she wanted to run her hands down, if only to see if he was as solidly built as he looked. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She tried to shake the insanely lustful thoughts from her head, but with him so close it was impossible. She didn’t know the first thing about this man. He could be a killer or one of the men who had taken her hostage and here she stood, wanting nothing more than to rip the thin t-shirt from his shoulders. It was not proper in the least and even more frightening was the tingling in her lips she could still feel after waking up to his kiss. The memory stopped her cold.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I am very glad you are not that type of girl,” he almost purred moving slowly closer, “I would like to know you much better, though. What is your name lovely one?”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Zara, my name is Zara Lockhart,” she breathed. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Zara,” his voice seemed to caress her name, “It is very nice to meet you Zara.”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her throat suddenly felt dry and she tried to look anywhere, but his eyes. It only made things that much worse when her eyes landed on his plump lips.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Reaching a hand up she touched her lips, “You…You kissed me,” she breathed. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His chocolate brown eyes seemed to melt into amber gold as he answered, “Yes…and you kissed me back,” his slow rumble sent shivers of excitement through her. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No…no I thought I was dreaming. I didn’t…I wouldn’t,” she stammered, backing away further.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Undeterred he stalked closer, “Yes, you did….and you loved it,” his voice was firm, confident. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The sight of him closing in on her had her knees trembling and something low in her belly clenching. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. No man had ever interested her before, let alone made her feel so strange. It frightened her and yet she didn’t know how to fight it.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Raising her arms in front of her face she tried to ward him off, “Please, stay away.” </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Surprisingly, he stopped. She lowered her arm in confusion, but yelped when it pulled at her hurt shoulder.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He was there in an instant, easing her back down onto the pad of leaves, “Take it easy, you are still injured,” he calmly explained.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Looking to her shoulder she saw the bandage covering the spot she was hit, “Did…did you do this,” she asked hesitantly, looking up at him.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He shook his head, “No, our healer, Rashidi, did,” he explained as he checked her bandage in case she tore something.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Our? There are others,” she asked suddenly alert. Seeing the way, he was so concerned for her injury she doubted he was part of the same group who had kidnapped her and her father, but that didn’t mean that he was innocent.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He searched her face curiously, “Yes, we have a small…tribe out here in the jungle. We found you not far from here. You were injured and so we took you here,” he paused, “You looked like you were shot, but it passed through cleanly. May I ask why you were out there all alone in the jungle? Are you in trouble,” the last part came out a bit rough and confused her. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He seemed to genuinely care, but how did she know it wasn’t some trick. Of course, if he was telling the truth they might be able to help her. She bit her lip in indecision.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He furrowed his brow, “You have my word, I do not intend to hurt you. I only wish to help,” he said it so solemnly she couldn’t help, but believe him.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So far, he had brought her to his home and had done his best to take care of her injuries. Aside from the disturbing kiss, he had made no move to harm or assault her in any way. Thinking it over she decided to tell him the truth. If he wanted to harm her he would have done it by now and if she revealed her plight she might be able to gain his help in saving her father as well.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She sighed, “I was with my father on safari…to see the gorillas,” she started, watching to see his reaction, “When we came upon some men on the trail. Our guide seemed very agitated and went out to confront them,” she paused biting her lip.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He set his hand down on her thigh in a comforting manner, “It’s alright. Take your time,” he soothed.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The low timbre of his voice was like a balm to her nerves. Swallowing she continued, “He started yelling at them and one of the men pulled out a gun and…and shot him,” she covered her face in her hands, “I never anything so horrible in my life,” she choked. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He could take it no longer, seeing her in such pain caused his heart to burn in agony. Moving closer he gathered her into his lap and she went willingly. He gently stroked her back as she sobbed into his chest.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">She looked up at him after a while, eyes full of tears, “I didn’t know what to do. They surrounded us immediately and tied us up,” she cried, “When they brought us to their camp the man who shot the guide made some…inappropriate advances. My father tried to stop him and for his trouble they…they beat him,” her tears soaked through his shirt.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The rage building in his Lutalo’s gut was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He couldn’t bear to see her like this and he fully intended to find the men she spoke of and relish their screams of agony as he rid the jungle of their presence. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The feel of her burrowing further into him, seeking shelter, melted his insides. This woman who he barely knew was making him feel things he never dreamed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he wasn’t about to give her up either.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Shh, it’s alright liefie,” he murmured running his hand down her arms, “You escaped and I will not let you come to harm. I promise you, you are safe here.” </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her eyes shone as she gazed up at him and in that moment, Lutalo knew he would do anything to see her look at him that way forever.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Too quickly it was gone replaced by a sudden frown on her upturned face, “Wait, I really appreciate all you’ve done, but you must help me save my father. He is still there and I can’t leave him,” she begged clutching at his arms as if he were her only lifeline.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His heart sank, he knew the men she spoke of would likely have already killed her father. He had seen it happen too many times before, but seeing her look at him as if he was her hero made him curse that fact. Despite knowing how dangerous it would be he couldn’t tell her no.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He caressed the side of her cheek with the back of his hand, “Liefie, when you look at me like that it makes me want to give you the world.”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With a sigh he stood, “I will do my best to find your father, but that is all I promise.”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Her eyes lit up and he knew he’d done the right thing, “Oh, thank you, thank you thank you,” she squealed wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Realizing what she had done she quickly moved away and Lutalo immediately regretted the loss, “You must stay here while I go talk to the others to see about looking for your father. I will be back soon,” he gave her one last look before making his way out of the hut. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px; line-height: 1.295; margin-bottom: 8pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He shook his head as he climbed back down the tree he resided in. If he wasn’t careful he knew she would be the death of him, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Wild-Him-Born-Katie-Cody-ebook/dp/B076LNLC26/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1513010588&sr=8-2&keywords=katie+cody">Amazon</a>.</b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-5042249200395231272014-12-13T00:00:00.000-08:002014-12-13T00:00:05.223-08:00"All's Fair" by Gabriella Mahoney (Historical Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/94c0862cb7f108a0f32dfd22bfd47345b7a82e86" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/94c0862cb7f108a0f32dfd22bfd47345b7a82e86" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Historical Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Part 1 of the Island Temptress story.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />The dashing Captain Stephen Garrott has never known bad luck until the fateful day his ship is attacked and run ashore by French privateers. His crew is dead and he is stranded on an island full of savages. With his uncertain fate hanging in the balance the last thing he expects to find is the woman of his dreams...<br /><br />This short novelette is approximately 15,000 words.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<br />Clara glanced about wildly. The ship was going down. She could either follow the crew’s example and jump into the frigid water or go down with the boat like the heroine of a wretched play.<br /><br />She jumped.<br /><br />The icy water immediately knocked the breath from her lungs. Her heavy petticoats worked against her flailing arms as she struggled toward the surface. Wreckage from the doomed ship was now dropping into the water everywhere. Clara knew that she had to get away from this area or she would soon suffer the same fate at her father. And even if she avoided being struck she would not last long if she remained in the water.<br /><br />With no rowboats in sight she swam toward the largest piece of wreckage in eyeshot. From the looks of it the piece of wood might have belonged to the hull. Clara pulled herself onto the floating debris, positioning her body in a way that kept her from toppling back over into the water. The exertion had drained her body of energy. If her heartbeat wasn’t hammering so hard she might have fallen asleep on the rough surface then and there. <br /><br />The churning waves pushed her further and further away from the wreck. Clara turned her head and watched with morbid fascination as the ship finally gave up its struggle to stay afloat and broke in half with a loud crack of splintering wood.<br /><br />In a way it was the perfect burial service for her father. He had devoted his life to his work and Clara could think of no other way he would rather leave this world than going down with his ship. Clara couldn’t help but feel a pang in her heart. She had barely known the man but she had now lost both of her parents. She was completely and utterly alone.<br /><br />Clara warily eyed the grey waters swirling around her. <br /><br />Alone and stranded.<br /><br />She had no idea where she was other than a vague notion that they had been sailing south from England. She had no food and no supplies. Her clothes were damp and the water was only slightly above freezing.<br /><br />Clara pressed her lips into a grim line. She had wanted to see the world so badly. She had walked on board the ship, blatantly ignoring any possible risks. It seemed probable now that she would not survive her first and only adventure.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00PHB9Q1Q">Amazon</a> or <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/492079">Smashwords</a>.</b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-80769307237866382612014-11-01T00:00:00.000-07:002014-11-01T00:00:16.757-07:00"Corral Nocturne: A Novella" by Elisabeth Grace Foley (Western Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/81uMD0WkIjL._SL1500_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/81uMD0WkIjL._SL1500_.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Genre: </b>Western Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Life on her brother’s ranch is lonely for Ellie Strickland. Ed’s ungracious manners and tight-fisted habits keep visitors away and his mother and sister close to home. But when Cole Newcomb, son of the wealthiest rancher in the county, meets Ellie by chance, he is struck by an unexpected impulse to rescue her from her solitude—and Ellie’s lonely summer is transformed.</div>
<br />
When Cole asks her to go with him to the Fourth of July dance, Ellie is determined that nothing, from an old dress to Ed’s sour temper, will stand in her way. By the time the Fourth of July fireworks go off at midnight, will they herald only more heartache, or maybe—just maybe—a dream come true?<br />
<br />Novella, approximately 21,000 words.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b><br /></b></div>
Ellie finished feeding the chickens, and stood for a moment holding the empty basket, watching them cluck and scratch and search in the dust for the kernels of grain. Then she turned and walked across the yard toward the little weathered frame house. The house, the low-roofed barn, the corrals and sheds made a half-circle around the hard-packed dirt ranch yard, and the garden patch lay east of the house. Sheltered by low hills, the ranch lay down out of sight of the main road. Few people came down the rutted track to the Strickland place. Those who did came on business with Ed—buying a cow, as today, or perhaps to borrow a piece of farming equipment; and they seemed to come rather of necessity than choice. Their infrequent comings and goings did little to affect the daily round of life. Though only five miles from town, the ranch was for Ellie a lonely place.<br />
<br />
It was not a particularly hard life they lived here, though for Ellie and her mother there were often irksome extra tasks arising from rather unnecessary scrimping and making do. Ed was ‘tight’; he grudged every bit of new wire for mending a broken fence; he kept his cows as short on grain as possible and then complained when they did not gain flesh like the other ranchers’ cattle; he would never buy a new shirt when an old one could be patched. He was apt to grumble over small extra items in his mother’s modest grocery lists, and Ellie had long since given up asking for anything for herself, knowing she would only hear the familiar response, “But what for? We don’t need it.”<br />
<br />
Ellie sat down on the front steps and put the basket down beside her. Ed was out of sight, and it was not yet time to start the midday meal, so she sat still for a moment and let the fresh breeze from off the prairie brush her face and flutter the edge of her calico apron. It was quiet—peaceful and beautiful, with the near-noon sun shining on wildflowers bobbing in the long grasses stirred by the wind. But today the quiet only served to remind Ellie that hardly anybody came down the road to the Strickland place, and those who did come disliked Ed Strickland so much that they never paid attention to Ed’s sister.<br />
<br />
Ellie sighed a little, and scuffed the toe of her boot in the dust. She was eighteen now. A lot of the girls she had gone to school with in the little one-room schoolhouse over on Catlin Creek had beaus by now, who escorted them to picnics and dances and took them out for buggy rides on Sundays. Ellie and her mother seldom went anywhere except occasionally to church, for Ed disliked social gatherings and didn’t like to spare the team from work for them to drive anywhere. So they were cut off, to a large degree, from the other women in the area, who had plenty of acquaintances among their neighbors to keep them busy, and knew very little about the Stricklands except what they heard their husbands and sons say of Ed. And as for young men…well, the men that came out here usually left with a sardonic expression like John Bentley’s, and hardly even noticed that Ed had a mother and sister.<br />
<br />
Ellie put her chin in her hand and stared away up the double-rutted track to the main road, with the green grass waving softly in its center strip. She was a quiet, practical girl, who simply accepted the little trials of her life that she could do nothing about. She did not spend her time pining for a beau—it was not a real cause of heartache, or something that constantly occupied her thoughts. But there were days, like today, when the accumulated loneliness of months made her heart weigh heavy; when she wondered wistfully how the right kind of young man was ever going to find his way down the road to her isolated home—and once there, what there possibly was that could make him want to stay long enough for a second look.<br />
<br />
“No man in his right mind would want Ed for a brother,” she said aloud to herself, and then added as an afterthought, “and I wouldn’t want to marry the other kind.”<br />
<br />
And with this reflection she stood up, looked round again at the sunny and empty horizon—empty of either kind—and then picked up the basket and went up the steps into the house.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Corral-Nocturne-Elisabeth-Grace-Foley-ebook/dp/B00N6TA0Z2/">Amazon</a>.</b></div>
Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-91562636894624170032014-09-08T21:16:00.001-07:002014-09-08T21:16:12.333-07:00"Its Own Season" by Viola Solaro (Science Fiction Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/91XgL13qPxL._SL1500_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/91XgL13qPxL._SL1500_.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Steampunk/Science Fiction Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Book 2 of the Katrina Warren Trilogy. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />Captain Griffin knew my secret. How many sleepless nights had I suffered while hoping that some day I would be in exactly the position I’m in right now? <br /><br />Well, maybe not exactly this position. In my mind the whole conversation would have played out more advantageously. Captain Griffin would admit that I was an invaluable asset to the crew and have me become a full-fledged member, woman or not. <br /><br />The way things were going I doubted such words had even crossed his mind. I love him but I will not have that man dictate my life. I will either convince him to let me stay on board or I'm going to escape to another airship. <br /><br />This SHORT steampunk romance is approximately 11,100 words long.<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<br />When I came to I did not know were I was. I was alive… I hoped. Reality was strangely mixed with my fading dreams. I dreamt about that time in the rain again. Only this time I was twirling beneath the tree. The light was so pretty. I was at home again and felt safe. My greatest concern was the innocent pleasure I took in escaping the house to play outside. <br /><br />But I wasn’t at home. Not my childhood home at least.<br /><br />Awareness of my surroundings began to slowly take hold of my senses. I could hear the distant hum of a steady engine. I was on an airship. But not in my hammock. I was far too comfortable and these bed clothes had the wonderful heady smell of a clean man. But if I wasn’t in my hammock then where...? <br /><br />More recent memories came floating back. There was an attack. I remembered the horrible half-machine, half-man creatures boarding our ship. One of the assailants had been taking aim at Captain Griffin…<br /><br />I gasped and bolted upright. Pain lanced through my arm as I clutched at the sheet that nearly slipped down and, therefore, exposing my secret. Captain Griffin was sitting in the corner at the table. I could tell from his grim expression that my efforts were in vain. He already knew.<br /><br />His words formed slowly, deliberately. “A woman…”<br /><br />I swore a string of unladylike oaths under my breath.<div>
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Its-Own-Season-Chronicles-Katrina-ebook/dp/B00MXNOI4G">Amazon</a>.</b></div>
<br /></div>
Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-18833437320928713582014-08-09T18:45:00.004-07:002014-08-09T18:45:55.241-07:00“I'll Be Waiting (San Juan Island Stories #6)” by Wendy Lynn Clark (Contemporary Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/7238565c829503138a9d45f14bc255a910b339cf" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/7238565c829503138a9d45f14bc255a910b339cf" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>Genre: </b>Contemporary Romance<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Summary: </b>For five years Skylar has awaited this moment--the return of her high school crush from his tour of duty in Afghanistan and the opportunity to learn if the sweet, silent and serious helicopter pilot shares her dream of the future.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Excerpt:</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
“Skylar. You’re late.” <br /><br />Luke’s serious voice tickled her eardrums, jolted her system like a warm finger sliding up her spine. Skylar swayed and turned to face him, mouth reacting before her mind could catch up. “You look great.”<br /><br />His eyes made familiar crescents to match his beautiful smile. “Thanks.”<br /><br />He did look great. Better than his last pictures taken in front of his new Black Hawk. The same dark brown eyes focused on her like only she existed on the roof; his hair, a flat Ice Man sheared cleanly up the sides made her want to dig in her fingers; and the adult muscle tone in that hard body perfectly filled his creased, off-duty jeans and starched, THIS WE’LL DEFEND T-shirt.<br /><br />Skylar’s mouth went dry, and the crowd faded away and her chest ached. Ached for the boy she hadn’t made hers and again for the man that she had already lost.<br /><br />“Sorry I missed you earlier. I made some wrong assumptions about…well, a lot of things, I guess.” The words stuck in her throat and she blinked back tears. “Congratulations.”<br /><br />His gaze flicked over her shoulder, and Skylar’s followed…into the now empty space where his fiancée had been standing moments before. <br /><br />“She brought it up on the boat,” he said. “Nothing’s settled.” His voice sounded flat.<br /><br />“She seems really nice.” Skylar hugged her bag tight to her chest. “My boyfriend planned this big, suspicious dinner with all of our friends and family, but I put him off until after. But, he’s a really great guy, too, and so I’m sure we’ll both be super happy.”<br /><br />Luke’s eyebrows lowered.<br /><br />She didn’t mean to make him feel bad. Just because he hadn’t told her he had a fiancée or even a girlfriend—<br /><br />Her chest hitched. Losing it. She was definitely losing it.<br /><br />She pressed her cold hands against her collarbone. Her eyes burned. Oh God. She dashed away the moisture and turned, ready to run for the ladder, or possibly she could just throw herself off the edge. “See you at the ten-year reunion, maybe.”<br /><br />His hand shot out and closed over her wrist, and he pulled her away from everyone into a dark corner of the roof. “Skylar.”<b><br /></b>
<b>Buy this book on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00MJ47RL0/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00MJ47RL0&linkCode=as2&tag=wenlynclawri-20&linkId=ELNDXTLANXAZRWTO">Amazon</a>, <a href="https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-i039llbewaiting-1591235-149.html?addtocart=true">All Romance E-Books </a>or <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/465498">Smashwords</a>.</b>Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-3186266470345440452014-07-10T10:09:00.000-07:002014-07-10T10:09:08.028-07:00"Its Own Time" by Viola Solaro (Science Fiction Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/fdd3e1ff1602f69359bcf333b69e806be300a2d7" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/fdd3e1ff1602f69359bcf333b69e806be300a2d7" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Steampunk/Science Fiction Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Book 1 of the Katrina Warren Trilogy. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />My father is dead and now I was supposed to begin my life of destitute spinsterhood. I was well aware that deviation from such a course could only end in a soiled reputation and being shunned by “good” society. I didn’t care. <br /><br />My plan was simple: pose as a cabin boy on board an airship. Air-steaming between city protectorates is dangerous work but at least I would be free from the shackles of my class. <br /><br />Little did I realize how ill-prepared my careful book learning had left me. And no amount of common sense could explain my wild headlong tumble into love with the savage Captain Griffin... <br /><br />This SHORT steampunk romance is approximately 12,000 words long.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
I let out a steadying breath as the birds chirped their merry tunes from a nearby oak tree. And now I was supposed to begin my life of destitute spinsterhood. Ladies of genteel birth that have fallen on hard straits were expected to find a respectable occupation that pays practically nothing in which to etch out a miserable existence for the rest of their days. <div>
<br />I, however, had no intention of doing any such thing. I was well aware that deviation from such a course could only end in a soiled reputation and being shunned by all “good” society. I could never again go to a glittering ball where wine flowed freely all night. I could never again laugh with my rich friends about something trivial like watching a matron’s ridiculous headdress teeter about. <br /><br />I didn’t care. <br /><br />My father was the only remaining family that I cherished. My second cousin could go and rot. And I knew now that my “friends” could not really be so. Did any of them bother to pay their respects today? Would any of them invite me to tea now that I was poor? The answer stuck in my throat and made a bitter taste appear on my tongue.<br /><br />The ceremony concluded and the small crowd began to disperse. Despite his wealth my father had been a very private man with few friends of his own. I nodded and thanked and said all that was proper as they one by one offered their condolences. Although I could not say it out loud, the only thing I felt at that moment was relief. My father had been sick for some time and I had been living in dread of this day. I was glad his suffering had come to an end. I would grieve but it would be in my own way, not some show in front of strangers.<br /><br />Today was the day my father died and when a new chapter in Katrina Warren’s story is about to begin.</div>
<div>
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00LH7HABM">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/its-own-time-viola-solaro/1119901053?ean=2940149729982">Barnes and Noble </a>or <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/454265">Smashwords</a>.</b></div>
<br /></div>
Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-7903790996100623842014-05-10T00:00:00.000-07:002014-07-10T10:03:48.584-07:00"Made for Each Other" by Gabriella Mahoney (Historical Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/811ATZECbIL._SL1500_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/811ATZECbIL._SL1500_.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Historical Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Book 5 of the Heart of the Highlands Series. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
Spring has finally arrived and the enormous task of repairing Castle Carinben has been set squarely on Malcom Grant's shoulders. Being only an apprentice when his teacher died, it is a task he feels woefully under-qualified for. He needs help and the last place he expected to find it was from a beautiful woman hailing from the rival Campbell clan... <br />
<br />
This short novelette is approximately 12,400 words.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<br />
“Malcom, wait!” Kailey shouted after his retreating form.<br />
<br />
He paused mid-stride at the sound of her voice. He said nothing, waiting for her to speak her peace. Kailey could tell that he was furious. It was no surprise; her father often had that effect on people. Wallace Birse may be a good father to her but he also had a well-earned reputation for being an overbearing tyrant. <br />
<br />
“My father… he means well,” she started lamely. “He gets like that when he thinks I might be in danger.”<br />
<br />
“Well tell him to direct his anger at someone else. Because all I see is a foolish old man.”<br />
<br />
“He’s not a fool! At least, not when it comes to his work. My father was a stonemason and architect back in his prime. To this day his designs are unparalleled. He’s brilliant when it comes to some things. In fact, the only reason why we’re even able to eat is because of the special rabbit traps that he makes.” <br />
<br />
“Lass, I’m sure your father is a good man,” he said with a sigh. “But I simply don’t have the time to try and convince him that he and I are on the same side. I have too much to do before I lose half of my workers to the farms for spring planting.”<br />
<br />
“Nay… you misunderstand… I’m not trying to make you like him. I’m trying to offer to help.”<br />
<br />
This made him raise and incredulous eyebrow. “You, lass?”<br />
<br />
“Aye. My father isn’t the only one with ideas. I’ve grown up around him and the other craftsmen he worked with. He used to show me things here and there, thinking it nothing more than a daughter’s adoration. My father is good to me but he has always been set in his ways. He’s loyal to his clan and in his mind a man’s sphere should not cross over into a woman’s. A woman’s place is caring for bairn.”<br />
<br />
“So why haven’t you married then?”<br />
<br />
“Easier said than done with an ailing father, a war and living in hiding. Besides—“<br />
<br />
“Besides what, lass?”<br />
<br />
Kailey considered her next words. She wanted this man to understand her but she also didn’t want to appear as if she was throwing herself at his feet. This conversation had played out much more smoothly in her mind when she ran out of the cottage to stop him. “I…I haven’t…that is…I haven’t found the right one.”<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this book on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Made-Each-Other-Heart-Highlands-ebook/dp/B00K3EKSZA">Amazon</a> or <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/made-for-each-other-gabriella-mahoney/1119414898?ean=2940149435425">Barnes and Noble</a>.</b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-54026542769354645842014-04-05T00:00:00.000-07:002014-04-05T00:00:02.017-07:00"Clay, Book 1.5 of the Punk Series" by P.J. Post (New Adult Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/819IL-HqNYL._SL1500_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/819IL-HqNYL._SL1500_.jpg" height="320" width="217" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>Genre: </b>New Adult Romance<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Summary: </b>Clay is the second book of a New Adult Romance Series - Punk, and is a Novella running approximately 50 print pages long.<br />
<br />
<i>Why did she get in that truck?</i><br />
<br />
Bethany Warner is graduating from high school and is looking forward to college and the gymnastics team with few regrets, except for maybe Tommy - her possessive ex-boyfriend.<br />
<br />
And as the last party of high school is turning into a dangerous and unforgettable nightmare, she meets Connor Clay, a punk and musician with a reputation for violence.<br />
<br />
Clay retells the opening chapter of Ache from Bethany’s point of view, showing us not only her perceptions of the events of that fateful evening, but also much more about who she is and most importantly – why.<br />
<br />
Note: This Book is intended for 18+ audiences due to pervasive language and adult themes and situations.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Excerpt:</b><br />
<br />I’m sick to death of all of it.<br /><br />But now I’m finally getting some independence and no one is going to know me at State. Appearances can go fly a kite. They won’t know who my Mom is or who Daddy is: they won’t constantly remind me about those embarrassing stories from freshman and sophomore year: they won’t care who I was seen with last weekend or even if I wear my pajamas to class — none of it will matter.<br /><br />I can totally start over, maybe even find a bad boy to date for a change, someone exciting, someone that’s unpredictable and not so preoccupied with what everyone else thinks or especially with what everyone else is doing.<br /><br />Maybe an art major.<br /><br />Some dark guy with mysterious eyes who caresses his beatnik beard with experienced fingers while he smokes clove cigarettes and quotes Dostoyevsky and Shelley, alluding to the greater beauty and purity of our impending transgressions. And all the while, he’ll be mesmerized, unable to avoid staring at me, beguiled by my enchanting full, inviting and impatient lips, and I shall offer him up nothing but the most modest hint of interest — but he’ll see the longing and passion in my eyes, emotions that I can’t hide from him and he’ll know we were meant to be together.<br /><br />Wishful thinking, perhaps.<br /><br />Hell, I’d take a guitarist from some local cover band as long as he can string two sentences together; just please, God, no more jocks or mindless morons. <br /><br />I mean, I’ll miss it here, but college is going to be so cool, with or without my fantasy bad boy.<b><br /></b>
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Clay-The-Punk-Series-Book-ebook/dp/B00I82BIJO">Amazon</a>.</b>Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-10442733032696194802014-03-08T14:46:00.000-08:002014-03-08T14:46:00.199-08:00"Safe with Me" by Gabriella Mahoney (HIstorical Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/81Dby75QReL._SL1500_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/81Dby75QReL._SL1500_.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Historical Romance, Scottish Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Book 4 of the Heart of the Highlands Series. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
The time for battle is at hand. Doug MacKinloch's near-legendary sword skills give his enemies a reason to fear him. With women clamoring for his bed he is a man used to winning. But he finds himself completely unprepared for his encounter with Melanie Keir. He thought to have forgotten his long-ago childhood playmate and yet his heart seems to feel otherwise... <br />
<br />
This short novelette is approximately 10,100 words.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Melanie Keir hissed with pain as her body slammed into a stone wall with brutal force. The power of the blow was enough to momentarily daze her. She shook her vision clear and looked at her assailant dead in the eye as he let out a drunken, maniacal laugh. Things had not been going well for her this week.<br /><br />“Oh ho! The lass has some spirit to her!” the man said as he took another swig from his bottle, sloshing the liquid everywhere in the process.<br /><br />“If you think for one second that this is going to win me over, you can thing again you arrogant pig!”<br /><br />He moved with surprising speed for someone so drunk. He grabbed her throat with his free hand and pressed her back against the wall. His breath smelled stale and his hair clung in greasy clumps around his face. “I think I can do whatever I want with you whenever I want. Whore.”<br /><br />His grip was strong enough to cut off her air circulation but Melanie didn’t dare move a muscle. She could feel his raging erection and knew that he was in no mood to debate right now. All she could do was glare at him with cold, green eyes, neither asking nor begging for mercy.<br /><br />He tossed her aside in a fit of disgust. “You are not worthy of my attentions just yet,” he slurred out. “I will not be with a woman who thinks herself above me. No one is above me. I’ll teach you to respect your betters.”<br /><br />Melanie squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for whatever pain her “lesson” might entail. But after several seconds nothing came. She peeped one eyelid open and saw that her assailant was distracted with chugged the remaining contents of his bottle. He burped loudly and teetered off to another area of the caves, lesson apparently forgotten… for now.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00IUP4V84">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/safe-with-me-gabriella-mahoney/1118881165?ean=2940149190584&itm=1&usri=2940149190584">Barnes and Noble</a> or <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/416451">Smashwords</a>.</b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-8644081779605334352014-02-08T00:00:00.000-08:002014-02-08T00:00:02.053-08:00"Forged with Trust" by Gabriella Mahoney (Historical Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/09fafaae898dd0cdce1ac48038a2d755d6d9d4e5" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/09fafaae898dd0cdce1ac48038a2d755d6d9d4e5" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Historical Romance, Scottish Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Book 3 of the Heart of the Highlands Series. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />Betrayed by his mother and left by his betrothed, Payton Reid has no reason to trust women. Especially the woman that broke into his forge to steal his tools... twice. He has every reason to turn the spirited lass in yet the information that she knows could stop the violent attacks on the broken MacKinloch clan. But will his clan be the only thing Payton ends up saving?<br /><br />This short novelette is approximately 11,300 words.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<br />Beatrice Duff blew into her hands in a futile effort to warm them. A few hours ago the split second of hot breath seemed to make a slight difference, now it made none. She wasn’t sure if it was because her hands were utterly frozen or if her breath had dropped in temperature. Perhaps both. Having dry boots was a distant memory at this point. The only thing that kept her from freezing to death was the fact that her spying spot by the stables provided a buffer from the wind.<br /><br />If only that damned smithy didn’t take so long! How many hours did it take to craft a sword? Beatrice was sure at this point that he had exceeded the average. She had thought that it wouldn’t be long before his muscles would tire, making him turn in for the night. She was wrong. The man seemed to be an endless font of energy. Cooling the blade, reheating it, hammering, cooling, reheating… it was acute torture to watch as her every limb froze and he became more and more sweaty.<br /><br />Still, it was a pleasant view. She may be turning into an icicle but she would have to be a corpse not to appreciate the way the smithy’s thick, brown hair fell across his face as the muscles in his back rippled in the glinting firelight. Beatrice also didn’t miss the look of intense focus on his face, like nothing else in the world mattered but the task at hand. She wondered what it would be like to have a man look at her like that while he leaned in for a kiss. The thought made her shiver in pleasure.<br /><br />It was well past midnight by the time the smithy seemed to reach a stopping point. After inspecting it carefully he set the newly formed blade on a table and went through a back door that must have lead to living quarters. Beatrice wanted nothing more than to leap on the now-cooling embers in an effort to thaw but she forced herself to be patient. She had already made it this far. She couldn’t afford to get caught. Not now.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00I9698KK">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/forged-with-trust-gabriella-mahoney/1118484597?ean=2940148154372&itm=1&usri=2940148154372">Barnes and Noble</a>, or <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/405412">Smashwords</a>.</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-44802694697642419442014-01-18T00:00:00.000-08:002014-02-05T10:10:12.738-08:00"Love Heals All" by Gabriella Mahoney (Historical Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/67ef4e80d5e346f5175c658cbad56825bc287c39" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/67ef4e80d5e346f5175c658cbad56825bc287c39" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Historical Romance, Scottish Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Book 2 of the Heart of the Highlands Series. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
Cora Rosach is the daughter of a condemned witch and protégée of the MacKinloch clan's old midwife. Her exceptional healing abilities are put to the test when the man she loves is dropped at her front door after being attacked by a raiding party. She is able to bandage his external wounds but, to her horror, discovers that he doesn't remember her at all. Will her love be strong enough for the both of them? <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<i>Cora snuggled closer to Evan’s warm body. The sun had set and the fall breeze was making her shiver. But all the snow in Scotland couldn’t make her move from this spot. “Some say the red is the mark of a bad omen.”<br /><br />He chuckled. “Do you really believe that?”<br /><br />Cora’s eyes grew serious. “It was one of the reasons used to convict my mother of witchcraft.”<br /><br />Evan shifted their positions so he was above her, cradling her face between his large hands. “Never think that, lassie. Laird Campbell was an evil man. You said yourself your mother spurned his advances."<br /><br />Cora turned so he couldn’t see the tears welling in her eyes. “Aye, she did.”<br /> <br />“Besides, your hair is darker with hints of red. That seems to me an omen that you’re a spirited troublemaker,” he teased.<br /><br />She laughed. Evan could always bring her out of her darkest moods. It was one of the things she loved best about him. The insistent pressure of his now firm manhood against her thigh was another thing.</i><br />
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HV2ILA6">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-heals-all-gabriella-mahoney/1118059253?ean=2940148222057&itm=1&usri=2940148222057">Barnes and Noble</a> or <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/397854">Smashwords</a>.</b></div>
</div>
Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-19006235390443177302013-12-21T00:00:00.000-08:002013-12-21T00:00:13.658-08:00"The Romance Section" by Viola Solaro (Contemporary Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/5639c1d55544aa631604bff06558e6e42e991c30" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/5639c1d55544aa631604bff06558e6e42e991c30" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Contemporary Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>I'm an introverted, gamer-geek librarian. Which is pretty much the perfect recipe for modern-day spinsterhood. And now the dreaded trifecta of holidays is approaching: Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's. They used to be my favorites growing up until somewhere along the way I crossed that hazy line where I was supposed to be “dating” someone and my relatives seem to have fewer and fewer qualms about setting me up. It's not like I want to be alone forever. I just want to find a guy that is willing to sometimes talk about things other than gaming. Someone who has dreamy brown eyes and reads science fiction. Someone like that man who just walked into my library...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />This SHORT novelette is approximately 8,500 words long.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Working in a library also makes me feel like I’m putting my double majors in literature and business management to good use. My true passion is literature but my parents refused to help pay for college unless I studied something “useful.” It’s an opinion but unless you’re really one of those go-getter types I think that business management has to be the most useless major. For one thing, who doesn’t have one? Makes it a tough sell to any potential employer. Plus, I’m not a go-getter.<br /><br />Anyway, so here I am. Working at the city library in a suburb outside of Seattle no one has ever heard of. I’m twenty-eight. And to top it all off the dreaded trifecta of holidays is fast approaching: Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s. To be fair, I have nothing against these holidays and what they represent. They used to be my favorites growing up until somewhere along the way I crossed that hazy line where I was supposed to be “dating” someone. <br /><br />It was subtle at first, most inquisitions are. Only the last two years or so have things bordered on intolerable. I know my family loves me but getting set up on a blind date with my aunt’s hairdresser’s son is going a little too far. I swear I can practically hear the alarm on my mother’s grandbaby biological clock going off.<br /><br />It’s not like I’m some sort of man-hating, anti-marriage woman. I’m just picky. Blame my introverted tendencies if you will but there are only a handful of friends I can tolerate being around for an extended period of time. Why would dating be any different? If I already know the guy is going to be a complete idiot then I would much rather spend my evening reading a book or grinding out levels in Guild Wars 2. At least then I can destroy any annoying people with a well-placed mace to the face… in the computer game, of course.<br /><br />This pretty much sums up my (lack of) dating experience. And I’m sure you can understand now why I’ve been torn between faking a horrible disease and biting the bullet for the sake of eating turkey. The arguments for both sides are rather compelling. Which is a good thing since today was a slow day at the library. Contrary to popular belief, it doesn’t rain constantly in Washington. It rains in bursts. It’s pretty rare to have days of non-stop downpours.<br /><br />Washington natives aren’t easily daunted by weather but after three days of driving rain your motivation to go outside is low. I didn’t even want to go in to work today but reconsidered when I realized I had nothing else to do except mope around my apartment and watch BBC dramas. A decision I was beginning to regret. I had run out of things to do hours ago. Every bookshelf was immaculately organized (I checked). All the returns had been put away. I even dusted the archives. The only think I hadn’t done was vacuum the carpet but that was next if no one showed up in the next hour (you have to pace your time-killing projects).<br /><br />Fortunately I heard the glorious jingle of bells on the front door. I tried not to appear too obvious as I peered over the counter to see who it was. We librarians get a bad enough rap as it is. No need to add “creepy” to the list. <br /><br />In walked a guy in his early thirties. He was cute in a geeky sort of way with scraggly brown hair, a rumpled jacket and the shadow of a beard from forgetting to shave. My heart did a mild flip. If I ever had a “type,” this guy would be it. Call me weird but I don’t like men looking more groomed than me. Most days I sport a vintage looking shirt, jeans and Converse. I do just enough to my curly hair to keep me from turning into a frizz monster. Makeup is only applied on very special occasions that don’t involve my mother (can’t have her getting any ideas). <br /><br />“Can I help you?”<br /> <br />“Yes, I believe you can.” He pulled a rumpled piece of paper out of his raincoat and handed it to me. “I’m wondering if you have any of the books on that list?”<div>
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00HBWRCUQ">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-romance-section-viola-solaro/1117710916?ean=2940148931584&itm=1&usri=2940148931584">Barnes and Noble</a> or <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/388425">Smashwords</a>.</b></div>
</div>
Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-59906318557656790332013-12-07T00:00:00.000-08:002013-12-07T00:00:06.788-08:00"Rules of the Heart" by Gabriella Mahoney (Historical Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/bd4acc4d489b53e7bdf6ff26bf4036498c0cbe44" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/bd4acc4d489b53e7bdf6ff26bf4036498c0cbe44" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Historical Romance, Scottish Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Book 1 of the Heart of the Highlands Series.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
Years of war and occupation have left the MacKinloch clan in ruins. The old laird is dead and Alec is left to inherit little more than a broken down castle and a marriage contract to a woman he has never seen. So long as his wife knew her place and didn't fuss when he claimed his husbandly rights Alec would consider it a good arrangement. Little does he realize that that his new bride has some ideas of her own...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<br />
Lara didn’t even so much as flinch when two screaming boys tore through her room in the midst of a wooden sword fight. Frankly, she was glad of the distraction as it kept her from thinking too hard about the fact that she was going to be married to a complete stranger in just a few hours.<br />
<br />
As she put the finishing touches on her hair she could hear her father outside hooking up the cart that would take her to the chapel. Her mother bustled about with the energy of someone half as young and not eight months pregnant. Lara had no idea how her mother managed but she supposed that after four miscarriages and eight living children the woman was more used to be being pregnant than not.<br />
<br />
Even though Lara was terrified over the prospect of leaving home she kept these fears to herself since she knew her family, especially her mother, was absolutely thrilled over the match. More than once she had overheard an uncle or a cousin bragging to any random merchant that would listen that the Thompsons would be forming an alliance with the MacKinlochs. They would be related by marriage to a laird.<br />
<br />
It was all well and good for them to brag. They didn’t have to share a bed with man that could be twice her age for all she knew. Lara tucked and plaited the MachKinloch plaid that was to be her wedding dress. The dark reds and blues flattered her fair complexion and seemed to make her eyes appear even more intensely green. At least something had worked in her favor that day.<br />
<br />
Her mother came over and helped her to straighten the plaits. “Oh, my dear, you are truly a bonnie lass. The laird is a lucky man to be marrying you.” <br />
<br />
Lara gave a thin smile. She loved her family and she knew her mother would miss her. But she also knew it would be a great relief to have one less mouth to feed, especially with a new little one on the way. Her brothers stopped fighting for a split second to express their admiration. “You look like a fairy princess!” the youngest one exclaimed.<br />
<br />
Lara genuinely grinned at that. “A fairy princess that can still beat your arse in a wrestling match!”<br />
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rules-Heart-Highlands-Gabriella-Mahoney-ebook/dp/B00H4BDYNS">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rules-of-the-heart-gabriella-mahoney/1117569997?ean=2940149040414&itm=1&usri=2940149040414">Barnes and Noble</a> or <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/384837">Smashwords</a>.</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br /></div>
Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-85839615080167812132013-11-02T00:00:00.000-07:002013-11-02T00:00:00.615-07:00"The Butterfly Papers" by Pepper Carlson (Fantasy Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img1.imagesbn.com/p/9780990015406_p0_v2_s260x420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img1.imagesbn.com/p/9780990015406_p0_v2_s260x420.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Fantasy Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Summary: </b>Natália was used to keeping her own company and always traveling alone. As she headed to Los Angeles International Airport, the day seemed like any other day. She wasn’t traveling far, just an hour flight, and yet she was feeling something she couldn’t quite put her fingers on.</div>
<br /> There was a stirring deep within her daring her to step out of her comfort zone. She knew the Universe would collaborate in her favor the elements usually did. But she would soon learn there was more to her than meets the eye when a series of ordinary events would produce extraordinary circumstances. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
I was brought to life protected by a canopy of dense rainforest somewhere deep in the Amazon jungles of Brazil while my mother chased a dream. It was the part of the rainforest that holds the most secrets and only a few select shamans traveling by the Yekuana hallucinogenic have been rumored to see the truth. My mother was convinced the truth had come to visit her on many occasions and they had fallen in love. But to me it was just a story and this was my life.<br /><br />It was a perfect 80-degrees with 90 percent humidity. Well perfect, if you like the kind of heat that sticks to you like a second layer of skin. I could smell the precipitation and taste the fresh water on my lips. It was high rain season but it wasn’t raining. The earth touched me comfortingly and the butterflies came in and out of view as they ceased to blend with the trees. The wilderness whispered in my ears as the butterfly wings brushed against me. There were hundreds of wings fluttering around me in all shapes and sizes. The different hues blending together created a kaleidoscope of color as if the forest was laughing and happy.<br /><br />My mother was near. In what capacity I couldn't be sure but I always knew when she was close. Her scent was a combination of jasmine and lily. Her long brown hair cascaded around her like early morning mist and her omniscient jade colored eyes sparkled brighter than stars in the sky. She was as beautiful as a Pixie Angel and as protective as a Lioness. She loved me as much as she loved the forest and I could hear her magical voice singing in Portuguese as I drifted off to sleep.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Butterfly-Papers-Vol-1-ebook/dp/B00FL4OD7Q/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1382811343&sr=8-1&keywords=the+butterfly+papers">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-butterfly-papers-vol-1-pepper-carlson/1117044576?ean=9780990015406">Barnes and Noble </a>or <a href="http://www.bookdaily.com/book/4200283/the-butterfly-papers-vol-1">BookDaily</a>.</b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-89683974758528976962013-09-21T00:00:00.000-07:002013-09-21T00:00:00.101-07:00"Healing Touch" by Gabriella Mahoney (Historical Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/d67d9d2a7bcb5dca019bb8d77cc7f178ff3dcde7" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/d67d9d2a7bcb5dca019bb8d77cc7f178ff3dcde7" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Historical Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Albert Halton is young, ambitious doctor with a promising career ahead of him. A man in his position cannot afford distractions and when he marries it will be to a demure woman that has no problem living in the shadow of her husband's work. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />Which is why his future wife will certainly be nothing like Tessa Alcott. The outspoken spinster is far too blunt and has an unfashionable taste for her own independence. Such a woman couldn't possibly be good for him... could she?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Tessa rolled her eyes and looked at Albert, desperate for any kind of support. Albert felt his breath hitch as their gazes locked. His first impression of Miss Theresa Alcott was a pretty but unrefined creature. Stray locks of curly brown hair slipped out from her white cap and her simple gown was clean but faded. A love of books and a mind of her own had probably sealed her fate as a spinster. Most men were not comfortable with intelligent wives that might question their stupid decisions. Indeed Albert had always imagined that when he married it would be to a nice, quiet sort. The type that would run his house smoothly and keep their children out of his way so he could devote most of his time to his research and career.<br /><br /> But when she looked at him… his heart leapt in recognition. They had only met minutes ago and yet it was as if she was an old friend he hadn’t seen in years. He knew exactly what she was thinking. He shared her same exasperated frustration with the world they lived in. Being full of ideas that no one wanted to listen to or, if they did, lacked the ability to understand those ideas. At that moment he realized she wasn’t bad-tempered or hysterical. She was bored. Trapped as a woman in a culture that felt females should have no interests other than getting married.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Healing-Touch-ebook/dp/B00F96K726">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/healing-touch-gabriella-mahoney/1116923170?ean=2940148438106&itm=1&usri=2940148438106">Barnes and Noble</a>, or <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/358397">Smashwords</a>.</b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-13574738993374938562013-08-03T00:00:00.000-07:002013-08-03T00:00:03.384-07:00"Playing With Fire" by Rose Francis (Contemporary Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/8caf9527f56ad4f4eb3d60aa9f9ea78fed9fc7b1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/8caf9527f56ad4f4eb3d60aa9f9ea78fed9fc7b1" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>Genre: </b>Contemporary Romance<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Summary: </b>Despite dumping her unfaithful fiancé, Janet Cooper has a hard time getting rid of him as he continues following her around, begging for her forgiveness.<br />
<br />Janet soon realizes her troubles are just beginning, especially since her new business partner Eric is an irresistible hunk and she has promised herself a three-month hiatus from sex.<br />
<br />But as her ex-fiancé gets more and more aggressive in his pursuit of her, she turns to Eric for strength and friendship, sending her ex into jealous rages. <br /><br />The least of her problems becomes her fantasies of Eric and resisting her urges as she begins to see that playing with fire could leave her scarred for life. <br /><br /><i>Playing With Fire</i> is the first in the Sweet Redemption series.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Excerpt:</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<br />As Janet reached the elevator and the doors were about to close, she heard a male voice call out:<br /><br />“Wait!”<br /><br />She held the elevator.<br /><br />For a moment, she wished she had let it close when the man entered, for she was struck by something she hadn’t felt since she was eighteen when she fell madly and completely in love for the first and only time with a guy who broke her heart irreparably a few years later.<br /><br />The vision before her was a man like she thought only existed in movies, and only then with the right lighting and camera angles: tall, broad shoulders, smoldering blue eyes, thick, glossy dark hair. <br /><br />When he smiled at her, she thought for a moment that she had literally turned into a puddle. Then she felt silly when she realized her eye level hadn’t actually changed and she was still human, so she managed to smile back. <br /><br />Her embarrassment didn’t help—she knew her cheeks had flushed at being stuck in such a small space with such a specimen, and that it would show even through her brown skin. <br /><br />She couldn’t think and felt like her brain had shorted and shut down. She could only feel, emotions whirling in side of her for the minute or so it took to get to the seventh floor. At least it felt like a minute, as her body screamed at her—desire, longing, and shame coursing through her. <br /><br />She tried not looking at him, focusing on the elevator buttons, then the floor—everywhere but at the Adonis next to her in a suit. But even his smell mocked her valiant efforts. His cologne, after-shave—whatever it was almost made her dizzy. <br /><br />She thought she saw him smiling at her discomfort out of the corner of her eye, so she looked directly at him and immediately regretted her mistake.<br /><br />His devastating grin erased her plan to firmly and confidently say hello.<br /><br />How am I suddenly fourteen? she wondered. Some cute guy, clearly very fit under his suit with a firm jaw, and a beautiful smile, standing about six feet four and looking the epitome of an alpha male—and she loses it?<br /><br />Get it together! she told herself as the elevator door opened.<br /><br />The man indicated for her to exit first and she managed to do that, but she stood there, trying to get her bearings and remember why she was on this floor in the first place.<br /><br />“708,” he said in a voice that climbed up her spine. “I take it you’re here for the Cooper reception?”<br /><br />She nodded dumbly, then fell into step with him.<div>
<br /><b><br /></b>
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E89DWG8">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/playing-with-fire-rose-francis/1116243256">Barnes and Noble</a> or <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/playing-with-fire-rose-francis/1116243256">Smashwords</a>.</b></div>
Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-82239194954385568282013-06-01T00:00:00.000-07:002013-06-01T00:00:04.847-07:00"Never Again" by Gabriella Mahoney (Historical Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/40d977e66ec1f41146ba3011cd7aa4ce9cae5041" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://dwtr67e3ikfml.cloudfront.net/bookCovers/40d977e66ec1f41146ba3011cd7aa4ce9cae5041" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Historical Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Book 4 of the Spinster Series</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />A youthful romance that ended badly has rendered Mabel Hughes incapable of ever loving another man. Or so she thought. A self-portrait she painted and sold years ago crosses paths with wealthy businessman, Thomas Torrens. He is captivated by the hauntingly beautiful woman in the picture and is determined to discover her identity. Little does he realize that artist and subject are one in the same... <br /><br />This novelette is approximately 13,000 words.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<br />“I can, of course, bring you more selections, Mr. Torrens.”<br /><br />Thomas raised an amused eyebrow at the aging art dealer. He was driving the man to the point of distraction and they both knew it. Mr. Simmons had been contacted a fortnight ago with a request for a selection of art from a variety of contemporary artists. A promise to make the effort worth his while made him reluctantly agree.<br /><br />Thomas was used to the type of reaction the Mr. Simmons was giving him. An untitled man was never afforded the same respect as that given to a peer. It didn’t matter that Thomas Torrens happened to be richer than most of the English aristocracy. New money was almost always viewed with contempt.<br /><br />“The selections you brought me are just fine. I can tell that you went to some trouble to acquire a few of these pieces. I’m merely taking my time. One should never take the job of patron lightly.”<br /><br />Simmons sighed and took a few steps back as Thomas resumed his careful scrutiny of each piece. His approach was unusual since very few aristocrats actually bothered to become educated in the field of art. They supported artists as a matter of show rather than principles. <br /><br />But Thomas took pride in his carefully acquired artistic taste, having originally spent his younger days as a painter’s apprentice. Ambition made him cut his art career short. He was tired of going to bed hungry and wanted his impoverished parents to live out their remaining days in comfort. Scraping together every shilling he could muster, he had eventually made his fortune through ruthless stock trading, loans and banking. His entire life now revolved around numbers. The occasional painting project in his precious few free hours was the only way he still felt human. Art and his daughter, Annabelle, were his two reminders that there was goodness in this life.<br /><br />He wasn’t quite sure if his decision to become an art patron stemmed from his passion or his guilt. His career demands up until this point had made it impossible for him to do anything other than collect the occasional piece. But at seven and thirty years of age he decided enough was enough. It was high time he started doing something with his money other than buy yet another lavish country estate.<br /><br />His eyes narrowed as he examined the work in front of him. It was a painting of a bustling dock at dawn. Fishermen setting sail and their wives cutting up the latest catch. The artist had done an exquisite job capturing all the unassuming details of the scene. His technique was flawless. It lacked… depth. Thomas could immediately tell that the artist felt no connection to these people.<br /><br />He didn’t want to pick just any artist to sponsor. He wanted the artist to have that special something in their work. He wasn’t sure what that was but he would know it when he saw it. Scowling at the dock scene, he moved on to the next display. So far all of these artists struck him as the same: skilled but soulless. Was it really so much to—<br /><br />His internal tirade was cut short as his eyes took in the next painting. He felt himself inhale sharply. Of all the paintings put on display around his library, this one was the smallest and most unassuming. It was the portrait of a beautiful woman with auburn hair and green eyes a shade or two lighter than his own. The artist had made no attempt to disguise the age. The subject was no simpering debutant but a fully mature woman with a mind of her own.<br /><br />What arrested Thomas was the sadness. Few artists could capture such a rich and complex emotion. The woman was not blatantly crying. In fact, she was smiling slightly. But underneath that smile was the pain of disappointment and hurt. The kind of sadness one hopes to eventually overcome but never does. <br /><br />Ridiculous ideas began to form in Thomas’ brain. He wanted to know more about the artist who painted this piece and, more importantly, he needed to know who the woman in the painting was. Was she a real person or a figment of the artist’s imagination? His eyes shot to the right hand corner, desperately searching for a signature.<br /><br />“Ah, you have excellent taste, Mr. Torrens,” the Simmons ventured, seeing his chance to finally make the sale. “That painting is by M. Hughes.”<br /><br />“What do you know about him?”<br /><br />The dealer shrugged. “Not much. Keeps to himself mostly in a village called Bibury. I’ve never spoken to him in person. All of our business is done by correspondence. He doesn’t seem to have any notion to make a public figure of himself which is a shame because every time I get one of his pieces it sells almost immediately and for a very nice price.”<br /><br />“I’ll triple whatever you’re asking if you tell me how to contact this artist.”<br /><br />Simmons lurched in surprise. “I can’t give you much, Mr. Torrens…”<br /><br />“A mailing address will do.”<br /><br />“Very well. Does this mean we have a deal?”<br /><br />The two men shook hands but Thomas barely noticed as he continued to stare at his new acquisition. This sudden obsession came as a complete surprise to him. He had no logical explanation for it. All he knew was that he needed to uncover this lady’s secrets.<div>
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CIF3MVY">Amazon</a> or <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/never-again-gabriella-mahoney/1115195464?ean=2940016520612">Barnes and Noble</a>.</b></div>
<br /></div>
Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-13985555064429603332013-03-30T00:00:00.000-07:002013-03-30T00:00:01.549-07:00"Hardly a Lady" by Gabriella Mahoney (Historical Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img1.imagesbn.com/p/2940016206660_p0_v1_s260x420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img1.imagesbn.com/p/2940016206660_p0_v1_s260x420.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Historical Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Book 3 of the Spinster Series</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />As the illegitimate daughter of an earl, Elizabeth Smith has little hope for a respectable marriage. Tired of living under the dictates of a disinterested father, Elizabeth decides to take matters into her own hands and find herself a rich protector. If no one will have her as a wife then she could at least acquire some wealth being a kept woman. But an old childhood friend comes for a visit and reveles that he has no intention of letting her go so easily... <br /><br />This novelette is approximately 14,500 words.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<br />Almost the very hour Elizabeth Smith turned twenty-six she decided that some changes to her life were in order. She was tired of living under the rule of others and she wanted to lose her virginity. Shocking notions to be sure, but Elizabeth never did anything in half measures. <br /><br />Considering her present situation, it was really no surprise that such ideas had popped into her head. She was spending yet another birthday taking care of her elderly cousin who had just come down with a chill. Last year she had been in the same position and the year before that she had been caring for her elderly aunt who had come down with a severe headache. This was certainly not the most cheerful way to mark the anniversary of one’s birth. <br /><br />Her cousin was sleeping peacefully now that Elizabeth had carried her to the bed and wrapped some extra blankets around the frail creature. She sat in the corner chair idly twirling a loose strand of dark hair while watching the second hand on the clock tick away, a grim reminder that she was not getting any younger. <br /><br />Her whole life she had been passed around like this. Never wanted and sent to take care of people that no one else wanted to bother with. She was the illegitimate offspring of an earl and the actress he had happened to be keeping mistress at the time. Her mother had adopted the dramatic stage name of Louisa Mancini but Elizabeth had been given her mother’s real and far less distinguished last name of Smith. <br /><br />She supposed she should feel a certain amount of gratitude. Often in cases like this the bastard ended up in an orphanage or worse. Since Louisa had neither the time nor inclination to care for a young infant, her father sent her away to the country to be raised by a farmer family on his estate. <br /><br />As far as childhoods went Elizabeth had little to complain about. The Morgans were good, simple folk that accepted her into their family and raised her with their two sons, William and Edward. Granted, they did not have much choice in the matter. But Elizabeth was fully aware of the fact that they could have easily taken the money provided by the earl and made her life a living hell. <br /><br />Growing up on a farm surrounded by boys had taught Elizabeth hard work, dedication and how to wrestle. Some girls received etiquette lessons and were instructed in musical instruments while growing up. Elizabeth learned how to sow a field and could lift a fifty-pound sack of potatoes by the time she was ten. <br /><br />Elizabeth had always been aware of her station in life, even from an early age. The Morgans never brought the subject up but Elizabeth knew that she was not one of them. In all likelihood she probably would have found some farmer to marry when she came of age in order to relieve the Morgans from the burden of caring for her. But was not what the fates seemed to have in store for her. <br /><br />When she turned seventeen she received a letter from her father telling her that her services were required at a relative’s estate. Being young and inexperienced, Elizabeth had at first been excited over the prospect of traveling somewhere new. But the excitement quickly wore off when she realized that she had been placed in the role of caretaker, a job that was tedious and required she spend most of her time inside. <br /><br />The drastic change in lifestyle was a difficult adjustment. Going from virtual freedom to having to monitor how loud her footsteps were grated on her spirit. But she never once complained to anyone. She was not being mistreated or starved. Any woman in her station would be grateful to live in such comfort. <br /><br />The sound of her cousin snoring made Elizabeth’s mind wander back to the present. She wasn’t quite sure why this particular birthday seemed more significant than any of the others. Perhaps she had finally reached her full maturity or perhaps she was simply fed up with the monotony of her life. All she knew for certain was that it was time for a change.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<!--EndFragment--></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BOGARHU">Amazon</a> or <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hardly-a-lady-gabriella-mahoney/1114759790?ean=2940016206660">Barnes and Noble</a>.</b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-10452324776087874762013-02-23T00:00:00.000-08:002013-02-23T00:00:09.272-08:00"Beckoning Spirit" by Stacey Coverstone (Paranormal Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.staceycoverstone.com/images/BeckoningSpirit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.staceycoverstone.com/images/BeckoningSpirit.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Paranormal Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Following a year of one disappointing turn after another, Devin Fuller has been dreaming for weeks of a mysterious woman in white beckoning to her from atop the island lighthouse. On the anniversary of her grandma's death, Devin feels a supernatural push to visit Grandma’s grave on Monhegan Island. However, the last ferry has been cancelled due to an approaching storm. In steps local Maine fisherman, Kipp Sullivan, who offers to ferry her across the bay. Although they’ve never met, both feel an immediate connection the moment they look into each other’s eyes, as if they’ve always known each other. When their hands touch, an electrical charge jumps between them, and time and space blend.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />Once they cross the storm-tossed sea and reach the island, Devin has an eerie encounter with ghosts, and she and Kipp become acutely aware of the strange coincidences piling up around them. The lighthouse, an old oil painting, and spirits from beyond the grave appear to be pieces of a puzzle meant to bring the couple together. But do they believe in reincarnation? And if so, can the mistakes of the past lead to happily ever after in the present?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
Devin lifted her head as a sudden cold gale carried an eerie whistle upon the wind. As though she were a puppet on a string, her neck rotated toward the abandoned lighthouse. The light was on in the tower.<br /><br />How could the light be on? She knew the light hadn’t worked in years.<br /><br />Stumbling to her feet, she dashed between the maze of headstones and out the cemetery gate. In the manner of a typical island storm, the wind and rain blew into a frenzy within moments. She jerked off her sandals and ran barefoot to the base of the lighthouse. Shaking from sudden exposure, she stared up at the small oval window fifty feet above. A jagged bolt of lightning sliced through the darkened sky, and in one sharp instant, Devin saw her. The woman stood at the window, her shadowy face staring down. Rain slashed at the glass, and the small window rattled wildly in its ancient casing, caught in the fury of the burgeoning storm. With a blink of her eye, the vision was gone.<br /><br />Her fist flew to her mouth. Had she really seen someone? Or was her imagination playing tricks? Thunder boomed and another jagged flash lit up the sky, illuminating the window again. The figure was still there! The woman’s long auburn hair lay curled around her shoulders, and the wide lace collar of her white dress accentuated the slender arch of her neck.<br /><br />Devin stood trancelike as the ghostly shape of a man magically appeared at the woman’s side. He placed a spectral arm around her waist. His hair was dark and he wore an odd-looking shirt with a ruffle down the front. His face, like hers, was cast in long shadows. An icy thread wound its way up Devin’s spine when he tenderly took the woman’s chin between his fingers and brushed his lips against hers.<br /><br />Another clap of thunder wrenched Devin from her trance. She jumped and blinked, and the two smoky shapes dissipated into thin air.<br />“No! Come back!” she shouted.<br /><br />She pounded her fist upon the small lighthouse door. It was padlocked. “Open up!” she called desperately into the wind. She pounded again, and the lock magically broke apart and the chain thudded to the ground. With her mouth open in shock, she flung the door open and planted one foot on the bottom step of the old wooden stairs. Her gaze lifted at the exact moment the two phantoms glided down the staircase, hand in hand.<div>
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BGOXID0">Amazon</a> and be sure to check out the author's <a href="http://www.staceycoverstone.com/books.html">website</a>.</b></div>
<br /></div>
Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-51735369618276831612013-02-16T00:00:00.000-08:002013-02-16T00:00:02.776-08:00"Transforming Love" by Debra Smith (Paranormal Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.debramichellesmith.com/uploads/1/2/5/7/12578078/5448443.jpg?0" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.debramichellesmith.com/uploads/1/2/5/7/12578078/5448443.jpg?0" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Paranormal Erotic Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Jenny never expected her thirst for freedom to lead to her capture. Family secrets prevent her from running from the only man tempting enough to make her submit to her body's desires.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />Gryph is dark, sexy, and determined to win Jenny in the Slag, a contest revered by his kind. As the leader of his Clan he's used to getting his way, until her. Can he give Jenny her freedom while winning her heart?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Gryph pointed at Jenny, “You come with me before you start a riot.” He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to the door in the back of the bar. He opened it roughly and the hinges squeaked in protest.<br /><br /> He motioned to the sturdy black leather couch. “Sit.”<br /><br /> “I would prefer to stand, if you don’t mind.” She stuck out her chin, tired of pushy males.<br /><br /> “Sit. Down.”<br /><br />Okay, so he minded. Jenny decided not to anger the only chance of help she had. Jeez, she felt like she was in the principal's office after her senior prank. It wasn't her fault the chickens pooped all over his brand new leather interior. He shouldn't have left the top down on his Mustang. She figured the chickens would all sort of…hop out. Gryph growled, low and menacing. She blinked, drawn back to the present.<br /><br />“Fine, I would love to sit.” She took a deep breath.<br /><br /> “How did you get here? And don’t say you walked.” He leaned against the large wooden desk and crossed his arms over his chest.<br /><br />“Well I did walk, but before that I drove.” She shrugged, still distracted by her hunger.<br /><br />Gryph clenched his jaw. “Let’s start with something easy. What’s your name and where are you from?”<br /><br />“I’m Jenny, well Jenifer, but I like Jenny better. I’m from Colorado.”<br /><br />“What’s your clan name?”<br /><br />Jenny scrunched her eyebrows. This guy was crazier than a roped mustang. “Clan?”<br /><br /> “Yeah, your clan. What do you think I would want to know, your shoe size? You walk into my bar, looking like you do. Are you really that stupid? Most of the males here don’t have mates, and honey, you're ripe for the picking.”<br /><br /><br /> Yep, he was totally crazy. She needed to get the hell out of there and fast.<br /><br /> “Look, I’m leaving.” Jenny stood, and before she could open the door, he had her pinned to the wall. Her heart raced as she struggled against his crushing grip. His scent hit her nose, sending heat to pool in her belly. Her head spun trying to decide what it was, undeniably something dark and dangerous. His lips grazed her ear, and his breath fanned along her flushed skin.<br /><br />“You expect me to believe you really have no idea what I’m talking about? That a female in your state just happened to walk through my door? Your leader is either stupid or playing with fire. I can't believe he thought I would fall for a scrawny thing like you.” Gryph bristled.<br /><br /> “Listen, I have no idea what you are talking about. I have no clue what town or even what state I’m in right now. I just want to go home.” Tears began pooling in her eyes. So much for being independent, once again she’d bitten off more than she could chew.<br /><br />“Sit down.” Gryph shoved her in the direction of the couch.<br /><br /> She eyed the door, ready to run back to her car. His lips tilted in a knowing smile, saying just try it. Fear made her mind hazy, like everything played in slow motion. She could still feel the heat left by his touch. God. She was crazy just for thinking of her jailer in a sexual way. She could use a drink, or the next best thing, chocolate. Jenny looked through her purse for the rest of her candy bar. She needed some comfort, and it was all she had. She watched Tall, Dark, and Scary step over to the front of a large wooden desk and braced himself on his hands. He shook his head, deep in thought. She took a moment to look at his features: his body was all powerful muscle, the tight black t-shirt did nothing to hide the flexing muscles of his back and his ass was incredible. He looked like walking, talking sin.<br /><br /> “What’s your last name?”<br /><br /> She narrowed her eyes, “Why?”<br /><br />“Do you want to go home or not?”<br /><br />“Fine, Koning. My last name is Koning.”<br /><br />“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He ran his hand through his hair.<br /><br /> “I assure you, it’s true. I can get my driver's license if you would like.” Jenny grabbed her wallet and handed to him. Gryph looked at her ID and closed his eyes.<br /><br />"Shit."<br /><br /> She was the one being held against her will, and he was upset about her name. It certainly wasn’t her problem if he believed her or not. She genuinely didn’t see why it mattered. She was hungry, tired, and with a lunatic. She bit down on her candy bar and let the flavors give her brief moment of peace. God if she ever saw that used cars salesman, she was going to have her dad take him for a shovel ride. You know the real fun kind where only the shovel comes back. She opened her eyes, and he was staring at her with a familiar heat in his eyes. Her body responded with a heat of its own, and she squirmed in her seat.<br /><br /> “Can I have a taste?”<br /><br />She almost said no, but she actually did need his help. If giving him the rest of her chocolate bar would influence his decision, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. She nodded and held out her candy.<br /><br /> She shook it impatiently, almost regretting her choice to share. It was Lindt Milk Chocolate, for Pete's sake, as close to heaven on earth as you could get. His lips curved into a seductive half smile. Before she knew what was happening, he grabbed her outstretched hand and pulled her off the couch and up against his body. He had her trapped, caged by his thick arms, and drugged by his intoxicating scent. He was warm and smelled like crushed pine needles and mountain air.<br /><br />“W-what are you doing?”<br /><br />“I’m going to taste you.”<div>
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Transforming-Love-Koning-Novel-ebook/dp/B00929OYEI/">Amazon</a>. Check out the author's <a href="http://www.debramichellesmith.com/">site</a>.</b></div>
<br /></div>
Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-46606082501429210462013-02-09T00:00:00.000-08:002013-02-09T00:00:09.418-08:00"Guilty Pleasure" by Gabriella Mahoney (Historical Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img2.imagesbn.com/p/2940015996937_p0_v1_s260x420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img2.imagesbn.com/p/2940015996937_p0_v1_s260x420.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Historical Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Book 2 of the Spinster Series</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />After the death of her parents Harriet Hughes devoted herself to a life free of temptation. Any activity that could lead to an excess of emotion was strictly avoided. She never questioned her way of life until a chance encounter with a dashing young naval officer who may turn out to be just too much temptation to resist...<br /><br />This novelette is approximately 13,000 words.<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"> </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<br />If someone had asked Harriet Hughes on Monday to imagine all the possible situations she could be in at the week’s close, what she was doing right now would have been last on that list. The small bouquet of freshly picked wildflowers didn’t stand a chance under the force of Harriet’s death grip. <br /><br />For the umpteenth time that hour her sister, Mabel, came up to her side and whispered, “Are you sure you want to do this, Harriet? You know that I would always take care of you, your reputation be damned.”<br /><br />“Mabel!” Harriet hissed through her teeth, quite shocked. “You’re not supposed to swear in church! In fact a lady shouldn’t be swearing at all!”<br /><br />“Well not every lady’s sister is forced to marry a complete stranger against her will!”<br /><br />“I’m not marrying Captain Fletcher against my will. You said it yourself that this is the only option.”<br /><br />“Yes, but that was yesterday. I’m having second thoughts today and I think you should too!”<br /><br />Harriet’s featured softened as she met her sister’s gaze. Mabel had every right to be worried. Six years Harriet’s senior, Mabel had automatically assumed the role of mother when their parents had died of consumption. Mabel was also extremely jaded when it came to men after having her heart broken by a scoundrel. So it was only natural that she would question Harriet’s decision.<br /><br />“I’ll be fine, Mabel. I’m twenty-two, certainly too old to be swept away by childish fantasies. Captain Fletcher is merely a solution to a problem. He seems to me to be a reasonable sort of man and we both will go our separate ways when this is all over. Then life can go back to normal.” <br /><br />Mabel gave her a skeptical glare then squeezed Harriet’s hand reassuringly before taking her place to one side as witness for the ceremony. The only other person in attendance was Harriet’s best friend, Jane, who also happened to be married to Bibury’s pastor, John Cooper.<br /><br />Harriet glanced nervously at her friend and Jane tried to give her an encouraging smile. Just slightly over one year ago Jane took a chance and married the man that everyone had thought she couldn’t stand. Theirs had been a love match with emotions that Harriet knew she could never hope for with her own marriage.<br /><br />Her gaze shifted to her intended. At least Bryce Fletcher was not an eyesore. He had thick brown hair and was well muscled from his years of military service. He was average in height but still several inches taller than Harriet. Though in the past Harriet never had any intention of ever getting married, Captain Fletcher seemed to be the embodiment of what she would consider physical perfection in the male form. <br /><br />Not that she had ever had such thoughts. To think about a man in such a way would be wrong and against everything her parents had ever taught her. And she refused to soil their memory with a stray moment of lust. <br /><br />“Are we ready to begin?” Mr. Cooper asked while giving Harriet a pointed look. <br /><br />Harriet didn’t miss the inflection in his question. Mr. Cooper was a good man and wanted to make sure his wife’s friend was not being forced into an unwanted situation. “Yes,” she said with more calm than she really felt. “You may begin at any time, Mr. Cooper.” <br /><br />She felt her hands shake and she gripped her bouquet even tighter. She didn’t even really hear what the pastor was saying as he read the vows from his book. Through all the haze a warm, steady hand slipped under the bouquet and gently held her fingers. Harriet looked suddenly at Bryce and he smiled at her. It was not a mocking smile or an insolent grin. It was a caring smile, the kind that would pass between two friends that were going to get through this ordeal together. <br /><br /> Harriet’s hands stopped shaking and she felt the knot in her stomach begin to unravel. Maybe… just maybe this marriage really wouldn’t be so bad after all.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B1DEFR4">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/guilty-pleasure-gabriella-mahoney/1114144904?ean=2940015996937">Barnes and Noble</a> or <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/274878">Smashwords</a>.</b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-37518763748716608482013-02-02T00:00:00.000-08:002013-02-02T00:00:14.236-08:00"Forever Love" by Melissa Keir (Contemporary Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HMXVW8xPCFY/UPIQ0GU3acI/AAAAAAAAADU/CzeKScYR8Sg/s1600/ForeverLove_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HMXVW8xPCFY/UPIQ0GU3acI/AAAAAAAAADU/CzeKScYR8Sg/s320/ForeverLove_MED.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Contemporary Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Fifteen years ago, Syndie Wilder left her small hometown- Amherst, Ohio- to escape the pain of losing her best friend and boyfriend. Deciding that Chicago offered more for an up and coming jewelry designer, she enjoyed the big city life until she chooses to return and care for her father. Taking care of her father and relocating her internet business, Syndie has no time or desire for romance but fate has a way of playing with best-laid plans.</div>
<br />
Thom Johnson broke Syndie’s heart all those years ago and regrets it every day. As a firefighter, Thom sets out to protect Amherst and redeem himself for his bad choices. However, he never has forgotten Syndie and the hurt he caused her.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
When a chance meeting happens, can the two former friends allow themselves the chance to become friends again, or will the sparks turn a childhood friendship into a forever love?<br />
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<br />
After getting out of my car, I hiked down the stairs. It was a mild September day, and the beach was fairly empty—just myself and a few seagulls. I walked slowly along the shoreline with my head down, not noticing the person swimming in the water until he began to climb out of the surf. <br />
<br />
A dark, cropped haircut framed a face so beautiful that it could be described as the face of a Roman god. He had a strong nose and jawline that showed just a sprinkling of whisker stubble. However, it was his body that made me pause. His muscular shoulders and upper arms looked like they could carry a girl off to bed. His wet torso was covered with hair that immediately drew my eyes and tempted me to caress it. The chest hair tapered down his narrow waist and seemed to lead the way to paradise. I stopped walking and just stared. God, please let there be no drool dripping off my chin. This guy was smokin’ hot! Then he smiled and I noticed his face, complete with a little dimple in his chin. He seemed familiar, but I wasn’t sure where I recognized him from. When he saw that I noticed him, he winked as if he recognized me too. <br />
<br />
“Hello! Nice day for a walk, huh? The weather has been kind to us this year.” He spoke and my knees wobbled. His voice was like chocolate, smooth and delicious. <br />
<br />
“Hi…Yes…I’m glad the weather is nice enough to get out, but isn’t the water too cold for a swim?” <br />
<br />
“Not at all. I enjoy my morning workouts after a long shift at the station. You don’t remember me, do you, Syndie?” <br />
<br />
My mind was drawing a blank. How did he know my name? Who was this hottie? <br />
<br />
“Not really. You do look familiar, but I can’t place you. I’m sorry.” <br />
<br />
“It’s been a long time. We grew up together, our parents were best friends. We even went out in high school. I’m not surprised you don’t remember me, you hightailed it out of Amherst like your butt was on fire after graduation. We never saw each other again. I’m Thom Johnson, but everyone called me T.J.” <br />
<br />
Oh wow. I’ve got a lot on my plate and he has changed over the years, but to not know someone so connected to most of my life was baffling. This man had been my best childhood friend. I was T.J.’s girlfriend for a while, but he dumped me for someone who put out. Before we went out in high school, I grew up with images in my head of him as the ideal guy. Our families encouraged our dating, thinking we were perfect together. When he dumped me, it broke my heart. I couldn’t stand watching him move on without me. <br />
<br />
“Yes, I recognize you now, T.J. I took off because I thought that a big city had more to offer me. Well, it was nice to see you again. I had better get back to my walk, you seem busy.” I took off wanting to escape this awkward moment. Having to explain to T.J. why I was back in town was the last thing on my to-do list today. <br />
<br />
“All right, Syn. See you around.” T.J. smiled. “Glad you’re back!” <br />
<br />
I began heading back to my car, no sea glass having been found. Instead, I’d discovered the one guy who broke my heart and, based upon my initial reaction to the sight of him, has the potential to do it again. I backed out of the parking spot and headed back onto the main road into town, thoughts of T.J. occupying my mind.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<!--EndFragment--></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=498">Secret Cravings</a>, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Forever-Love-ebook/dp/B00B0XISFU/ref=sr_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1358211859&sr=1-6">Amazon</a> or <a href="https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-foreverlove-1043020-149.html">All Romance</a>.</b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-47847528931500403022013-01-26T00:00:00.000-08:002013-01-26T00:00:02.570-08:00"Finding Home" by Gabriella Mahoney (Historical Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img2.imagesbn.com/p/2940014456623_p0_v1_s260x420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img2.imagesbn.com/p/2940014456623_p0_v1_s260x420.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Historical Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Ailsa Campbell grew up not knowing much of happiness. Her cruel father now dead and her clan torn apart by war, she is unsure of what the future could hold for her.<br />But the handsome new laird from the MacAllan clan may just have all the answers...<br /><br />This short, steamy romance is approximately 4,250 words long.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<i>She turned around to look at him. A smoldering gaze that shot heat straight to Ian’s groin. He didn’t know who she was but felt a sense of possessiveness toward her. Like she was his and his alone. <br /><br />She walked toward him slowly, sensually. One of her hands slid up and loosened her bodice, allowing her breasts to nearly spill out.<br /><br />Ian closed the distance between them and crushed her soft body to his. She melted into his embrace, like she was made for his arms. He leaned forward, as his lips brushed hers he felt something at his very core… something he couldn’t even begin to explain…</i> <br /><br />Ian MacAllan jerked awake, his body humming with desire. He glanced down and saw the rock hard evidence of his erotic dream. It had seemed so real! Like somehow the woman in his dreams was someone he knew.<br /><br />But it was probably wishful thinking. With a groan, he covered his eyes with his arm and tried to find sleep once more.
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Finding-Home-MacAllan-Series-ebook/dp/B00844870E">Amazon</a> or <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/finding-home-gabriella-mahoney/1110919077?ean=2940014456623">Barnes and Noble</a>.</b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-14226629085225808532013-01-19T00:00:00.000-08:002013-01-19T00:00:07.280-08:00"Takeover" by Annie Turner (Western Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img1.imagesbn.com/p/2940011948602_p0_v1_s260x420.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img1.imagesbn.com/p/2940011948602_p0_v1_s260x420.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Genre: </b>Western Romance</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b>Summary: </b>Book 2 of the Jimmy Cochran story. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br />Jimmy and Adelaide get married but their bliss is cut short with the arrival of a new pastor in town. Despite Pastor Ramstein's popularity with the townsfolk, Jimmy's suspicions that the pastor is up to no good prove to be well founded. But he may be too late to save the town...<br /><br />Novella, approx. 18,000 words<br /><br />This story was originally published under the name Alain Gomez.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Excerpt:</b></div>
<br />For the rest of the day, Jimmy was occupied putting the sheriff’s office into order. The previous occupant had not been the neatest of men and yesterday’s gunplay had not improved matters. When it came close to six he closed up shop and walked over to the O’Haras’ new business. <br /><br />He rapped on the door and Adelaide was the first to answer. This Jimmy coming to pick her up was a far cry from the one that she had left this morning. His hair was now neatly trimmed and his beard gone. He was wearing a new grey shirt that made his eyes seem even greener with black pants and a black vest. She noticed that on his vest there was a shiny sheriff’s badge pinned on. Even the slight bagginess in his shirt was not enough to conceal his well-muscled arms and trim figure. She raised an eyebrow at all this and a slow smile crept to her face.<br /><br />“What?”<br /> <br />“Nothing.”<br /><br />“Tell me.”<br /><br />“Umm…nice badge.”<br /><br />“Thanks,” he said in a tone of obvious disbelief. Choosing to let whatever was amusing her slide, he asked, “You ready to go to dinner?”<br /><br />“We sure are. Pop?”<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<!--EndFragment--></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Takeover-Jimmy-Cochran-ebook/dp/B004MPRBGK">Amazon</a> or <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/takeover-annie-turner/1112446211?ean=2940011948602">Barnes and Noble</a>.</b></div>
<br />Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-397152171877835985.post-5233497360854402112013-01-12T17:25:00.000-08:002013-01-12T17:25:04.058-08:00"A Christmas Accident" by Melissa Keir (Contemporary Romance)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Oa5c37tDEDg/UPIMPmytYGI/AAAAAAAAADE/ZPvr8Y4nKuQ/s1600/AChristmasAccident_MED.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Oa5c37tDEDg/UPIMPmytYGI/AAAAAAAAADE/ZPvr8Y4nKuQ/s320/AChristmasAccident_MED.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>Genre: </b>Contemporary Romance<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Summary: </b>Expecting her first child, Sherri Wilder Davison wants nothing more than to spend time with her father over the holidays, but fate has a way of changing her best-laid plans.<br /><br />Adam Davison is willing to do anything to make his pregnant wife happy. He will face hell to have her home for the holidays. <br /><br />For Sherri and Adam, the holidays are a time of celebration and love, but this Christmas will be unlike any they have ever faced. <br /><br />When a horrible blizzard causes an automobile accident that puts the lives of those Sherri loves on the line, can a Christmas miracle save them?<br />
<!--EndFragment--><b><br /></b>
<b>Excerpt:</b><br />
<br />
Looking over at Adam, I’m amazed that such a handsome man could love me. Stubble showed on Adam’s rugged face. I liked the way the short growth of beard rubbed on my face when he nibbled on my ears. Adam’s dark brown hair was cut short, emphasizing his deep blue eyes and strong nose. The small dimple on his chin made him seem more approachable and much less serious. His tall stature and muscular body always made me feel precious yet delicate, like a porcelain doll, but Adam never treated me like anything other than a desirable woman. <br /><br />“How are the roads? Do you think we can stop so I can use the bathroom? Your son is pushing on my bladder.” Wiggling in my seat, I tried to alleviate the uneasy pressure. <br /><br />Adam looked over at me with a dreamy expression on his face. His gaze settled on my stomach as it undulated. “Sure, I could use some coffee. How are you feeling? Little Pea looks active tonight.” <br /><br />“I’m okay except for the kicks to the bladder. I swear he’s practicing his temper tantrums so he has them right when he comes out. Oh Ricky, we are in so much trouble,” I replied with a silly high pitched whiney Lucille Ball-type voice, then smiled. <br /><br />I am thankfully in the third trimester of my pregnancy. I’d passed the dangerous stage where many women miscarry as well as the dreaded morning sickness phase that sucks the very life out of a body. Now I had abundant energy and looked forward to finally getting ready to meet our son. We still had two more months to go but I already felt like a beached whale, not to mention the walking with a waddle. Adam loved talking to my stomach, he’d even been reading storybooks to our peanut each night. <br /><br />Adam and I had eloped to Hawaii five years ago during our Christmas vacation. We’d kept our wedding private, only us. Today we are closer than most married couples, enjoying the same things, especially our cottage home on the Huron River, old movies, television shows, and snuggling up with a blanket on those cold Michigan nights. <br /><br />While we both loved our families, neither one of us enjoyed traveling which became the basis for the fight. I’d won the the argument after the announcement of my father’s recent diagnosis. I’d spent hours on the phone with my sister, then on the internet gathering information on Alzheimer's. The dementia had already begun to kick in when Dad accidentally set fire to his home. Luckily, Syndie had already moved in with Dad and got him out of the house in time. My need for family had only become stronger since I’d learned about my pregnancy and the arrival of the first grandson.. I didn’t want my baby to miss out on his remaining grandparent. <br /><br />Fear about my father never getting to meet or know my little peanut became a constant in my mind. Adam and I had distanced ourselves from our families over the years. We were always so happy spending time with just each other, we’d just never considered what those choices did to others. Having a baby changes things. My sister’s wedding invitation plus my dad’s diagnosis, well, both convinced me that we needed to get back to Ohio. Christmas seemed like a perfect excuse. <br /><br />After pulling into the gas station, Adam stopped the car next to the pump. I grabbed my purse. “I’m going to use the bathroom, grab your coffee, then get a snack while you fill up. Is there anything else you want?” I walked over to Adam’s door as he let himself out. <br /><br />Adam bent down to kiss my belly, making my muscles clench. How does such a beefy man do that yet still look so masculine? <br /><br />“Why don’t you also grab me some pretzels. I don’t know if the coffee will be good on my empty stomach. But with the way the snow has been falling, I want to make sure we can take the turnpike rather than Route 2.” <br /><br />Route 2 is known as Death’s Highway. The area of Route 2 between Bono and Sandusky claimed dozens of lives due to the large semi-trucks in addition to the awkward two lane road. People couldn’t see what was coming around the next bend so head-on collisions were frequent. The horrible blizzard-like conditions from Lake Erie only made the road more treacherous. <br /><br />After grabbing the coffee, pretzels and some crackers for myself, then paying for them, I headed back to the car. The snow made the car hard to see from the door of the gas station. Driving in this mess wasn’t a comforting thought. <br /><br />“Adam, the weather looks really bad. Maybe we should turn on a local radio station to check on the road conditions.” <br /><br />Making slow progress, we listened to the bleak weather bulletin. Little did we know one single radio announcement would change our lives forever.<b><br /></b>
<b>Buy this story on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Accident-Weekend-Getaways-ebook/dp/B00AODXZ78">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=471">Secret Cravings</a>, or <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-christmas-accident-melissa-keir/1113980309?ean=2940016069555">Barnes and Noble</a>.</b>Gabriella Mahoneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00597669562794521486noreply@blogger.com1