Mail Order Man by Heather Gray {Blitz Tour - May 27, 2013}

A well-meaning friend places an ad to find a mail order husband for Sarah, the proprietress of Larkspur’s stage and mail office. Sarah, who is generally quiet and reserved, doesn't know about the ad and has no idea what to do with all the people that are showing up in her community. Before long, the town is overrun with men and mail alike. Sarah is trying to avoid some men who have accosted her on the street when she stumbles into Samuel. Through long days spent together at the stage office, some very adventurous pots of coffee and a shared faith, the two become friends.

Sarah knows that Samuel is hiding something from her, something important, but that doesn't stop her heart from leaping wildly into love. Lacking the confidence to trust her heart, Sarah wars with herself over the feelings she can no longer deny. When some of the men who have come to town show their true intentions, a shootout follows. Sarah finally gets answers to many of the questions circling through her mind. One question remains, though. Where will her mail order man go when the dust settles?

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo Books

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Participating Tour Hosts

Mochas, Mysteries and More
Laurie's Thoughts and Reviews
Sarah Ballance
Jenna's Journal
Coffee & A Book Anytime
[Insert Clever Quip Here]
Sharon C. Cooper: Just thinking...
Brynna Curry's In Shadows
Christine's Words
Brooke Blogs
A Chick Who Reads
Hywela Lyn Romance That's 'Out Of This World'
Creative Hodgepodge
My Devotional Thoughts
Melissa MacKinnon
Books, Books The Magical Fruit

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Excerpt

Right then Claudio and Cesar came through the door. Both boys chimed a “Good morning!” in Sarah’s direction as they headed straight for the coffee on the stove. Sarah saw their intent and inwardly cringed. Not only was she not sure about how many scoops of grounds she’d put in, but the coffee had been percolating much longer than normal because she got distracted with the letters.

Samuel had his back to the stove and did not see the boys as they each poured a cup of coffee. Sarah was about to warn them as Claudio, the middle boy at age sixteen, took a big swig of the hot brew while Cesar, the youngest, opted to blow on his first. Claudio’s eyes grew wide as he swallowed. “Miss Sarah, I do believe that’s the best coffee you've ever made. That’s the kind of coffee vaqueros drink!”

Samuel visibly perked up at the mention of coffee. Sarah was sure he couldn't know a vaquero was a Mexican cowboy and that they drink their camp coffee strong. If he understood what the boys were saying, he definitely wouldn't be in a hurry to get a cup of his own. Cesar finally took a drink of his coffee. Sarah could see him trying not to make a face as he swallowed the brew. “Vaquero coffee for sure, Miss Sarah. Papa would be proud.”

Sarah had barely started to warn, “Uh, Samuel…” when he took a big gulp of the coffee Claudio had poured for him. She watched the shock on his face as he first paled and then grew red. His eyes flew wide as he tried desperately to swallow the coffee. He finally ran out the front door and spit the coffee out over the edge of the stage platform.

The boys could not contain their howling laughter as Samuel walked back into the stage office, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

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About Heather Gray

Aside from her long-standing love affair with coffee, Heather’s greatest joys in life are her relationship with her Savior, her family, and writing. Years ago, she decided it would be better to laugh than yell. Heather carries that theme over into her writing where she strives to create characters that experience both the highs and lows of life and, through it all, find a way to love God, embrace each day, and laugh out loud right along with her.

Website | Twitter | Facebook

Follow @LaughDreamWrite

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Camdeboo Nights by Nerine Dorman {Bookmark Tour}

May 27 thru June 10, 2013

Helen Ashfield’s world is about to be turned upside down. Is she ready?

Helen Ashfield’s life is complicated. Not only must she adjust to her parents’ divorce, but she has to come to grips with her new school in the small South African Karoo town of Graaff-Reinet. She’s sorely mistaken if she thinks she’s going to slot seamlessly into her new life. Her growing magical powers have attracted the unwanted attention of Trystan, a vampire, who may not have her best interests at heart.

Outcast from his kind for drinking another vampire’s blood, Trystan has been on the run for almost a hundred years from Mantis–the closest thing their kind has to an enforcer. All Trystan wants is an existence of quiet anonymity, but Helen turns his world upside-down.

Helen’s powers also mark her as one of Mantis’ targets. If Mantis gets control of Helen, she’ll change the course of history…for the worse.

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo Books

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Tour Schedule

May 27, 2013
MJ Schiller, Romance Author (Guest Post)

May 28, 2013
Coffee & A Book Anytime (Guest Post)

May 29, 2013
Writerly Ramblings (Author Interview)

May 31, 2013
I Know That Book (Author Interview)
Amberkatze's Book Blog (Guest Post)
Melissa Keir- Sexy Between the Covers (Guest Post)

June 1, 2013
Diane Burton ~ out of this world adventures (Guest Post)

June 3, 2013
Laurie's Thoughts and Reviews (Author Interview)

June 4, 2013
Christine's Word (Author Interview)

June 5, 2013
Real World on Writing (Guest Post & Review)

June 6, 2013
Authors' Cafe (Author Interview & Review)

June 7, 2013
Celestial Reviews (Guest Post & Review)

June 8, 2013
Books, Books The Magical Fruit (Guest Post)

June 10, 2013
Brooke Blogs (Guest Post & Review)

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Excerpt

Armed with her grandmother’s shopping list, Helen ran out to the familiar silver Volvo, looking forward to speaking with Arwen, only to discover Szandor and another woman with a teased-out mop of white-blond hair waited in the car.

The woman turned icy gray eyes on Helen, giving her the impression that she could read each of Helen’s secrets.
She was pale, which wasn’t helped by the funerary aspect of her clothing–a buttoned-up sleeveless shirt with a cameo at her throat. When she moved, an audible swish of many layers of satin and chiffon filled the vehicle.

This must be the aunt. She couldn’t be the mother. The resemblance to Szandor was almost uncanny.

Szandor smiled, but the pleasure did not reach his eyes. “This is Sonja, my sister. Sonja, this is Arwen’s new friend, Helen.”
Sonja gave the briefest of frowns before facing the window.

“Uh, hi,” Helen said, wishing that she could be anywhere else but in this car with these peculiar people. The journey to Graaff-Reinet would be just over half an hour but it would feel like an eternity.

Szandor made a sound that was almost a snigger before turning the key. If only Damon were here, but her brother had gone to visit the Prof the instant his chores were done.

They drove in silence, with only the hiss of the air-conditioner as accompaniment, until they left the valley.
Then Szandor said, “Did you enjoy the films last night, Helen?”

She thought her heart would explode. Should she lie? Should she allow the story to filter through without some of the pertinent details?

“I… Uh. Yes.” She had watched films after Trystan had walked them home. Granted, she hadn’t been able to concentrate on any of the onscreen action.

“Oh,” Szandor said.

She caught a glimpse of his amused expression in the rearview mirror.

Bloody hell, of course he didn’t believe her. What did she expect?

“You haven’t seen or heard anything that you would consider out of the ordinary, have you?” Szandor asked.
“Um, no.”

“You’ll tell us if you do, won’t you?” Szandor asked. It was more a command than a question.

“I guess so.” Helen clutched the seat with white-knuckled hands.

Her grandmother’s amused tones echoed in her memory. The whole lot of them, they’re all witches. The father, too.
How far would Szandor push his craft? What could he do? Was she in any danger? If there was the superstitious fear of witchcraft that was prevalent among the indigenous Africans…

She’d read a little about the subject a few years previously while researching for a painting for her art classes. Witchcraft was a fascinating topic but she had never expected to ever deal with the real thing. Now her present situation seemed very real and very menacing.

“Where’s Arwen?” Helen hoped to steer their conversation to safer territory. She may as well have said “Nice weather, we’re having.”

“Arwen has been grounded,” Szandor said, his pale gaze reading the road ahead.

Oh heck. He knew.

“Oh.” Perhaps it would be better to say nothing at all then she wouldn’t dig herself a deeper hole.

The rest of the ride passed in uncomfortable silence. Helen pressed her face against the glass and hoped nothing more would be said.

She hated deception of any kind. Whenever she lied, she always ended up being caught out. Instead, she watched the passing landscape, where gray-blue spiked agave lined the road in clumps. Every so often jeep tracks led from the road they followed and she wondered where they went.

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An editor and multi-published author, Nerine Dorman currently resides in Cape Town, South Africa, with her visual artist husband. Some of the publishers with whom she works include Dark Continents Publishing and eKhaya (an imprint of Random House Struik). She has been involved in the media industry for more than a decade, with a background in magazine and newspaper publishing, commercial fiction, and print production management within a below-the-line marketing environment. Her book reviews, as well as travel, entertainment and lifestyle editorial regularly appear in national newspapers. A few of her interests include music travel, history (with emphasis on Egypt), psychology, philosophy, magic and the natural world.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Follow @NorineDorman

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The Wife of a Lesser Man by Sandy Appleyard {Bookshelf Tour & Giveaway}

{Tour - May 7 thru June 17, 2013}

They were deeply in love, their days and nights filled with scintillating romance and passionate love making—even after 20 years of marriage. Then fate delivered a hammer blow when a heart attack led to Mark’s impotency and Shelley’s unbearable frustration.

Encouraged by a friend, Shelley becomes flirtatious and unfaithful, finding those moments of glorious intimacy for which she hungered with another man. Mark, a police chief, suspects nothing as he channels all his time and energy into tracking down a serial killer. But when the murderer leaves a terrifying final clue too close to home, only Shelley can solve the case.

Amazon | Smashwords | Print Book

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway below for a chance to win a copy of The Wife of a Lesser Man and a $15 Amazon Gift Card!

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Tour Schedule

May 7
My Devotional Thoughts (Guest Post)
M.J. Schiller, Author (Character Interview)

May 9
HBS Author's Spotlight (Author Interview)

May 11
WordWranglers (Author Interview)

May 14
Sharon C. Cooper, Just Thinking (Author Interview & Review)

May 16
Laurie's Thoughts and Reviews (Character Interview)

May 17
Mom With A Kindle (Author Interview)

May 20
FLY HIGH! (Guest Post)

May 22
Christine's Words (Guest Post)

May 24
Romance Me (Guest Post & Review)

May 25
Margo Hoornstra - Writing Inside & Out (Guest Post)

May 29
The Book Diva's Reads (Guest Post)

June 4
Janna Shay's Fair Play (Guest Post)

June 12
Books, Books The Magical Fruit (Guest Post)

June 14
Kristina Knight, Romance Author (Guest Post)

June 15
Authors’ Cafe (Author Interview & Review)

June 17
Celestial Reviews (Guest Post & Review)

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Excerpt

Present Day

I stood and listened, waiting to hear anything that would tell me he was alive. I was standing in the vestibule between the waiting room and the emergency room. My ear was pressed up against the metal doors, which left only a small opening so that I could eavesdrop. My hands supported my weight; fingers spread out, knuckles white. My heart was racing, I felt like I would throw up at any second, and an incessant shiver coursed through my body. Yes, people were staring at me. But I was sure no one had just arrived with their husband showing no vital signs.

“Nurse! Get the paddles! We’re losing him again!”

“Clear!”

A bang and a strange noise, then silence.

“Again!” “Clear!” The same strange noise and more silence.

My tears began to flow. More people stared at me.

“Excuse me, Ma’am? Maybe you would be more comfortable waiting in the private room?” I heard her voice off in the distance, but I ignored it. I was waiting for the next words from the doctor.

“Ma’am? Mrs. Tame?” I looked at her but her words didn’t register.

She put her arm around my shoulder, like we were old high school chums. Her voice was comforting but firm, like when my mother used to know that I was sick and insisted I take my medicine. “Come with me, Mrs. Tame; you’ll be more comfortable in another room”. She took one step but I didn’t follow. My feet stayed firmly planted on the floor.

“Please Ma’am, you shouldn’t be here. You need to come with me.” Her voice was unrelenting. Her hand grasped my side but I broke free.

“No! You cannot take me away! I need to know!” I was yelling.

“We will update you as soon as we hear anything Ma’am, I promise.” Her words became comforting again.

“No! I’m staying right here! My husband is right in there! I’m not leaving this spot until I know!” I yelled, pointing at my feet. My tears and blubbering barely made my words understandable.

The nurse’s name tag read “Lilly”. She was plump and looked like she could restrain me if I made trouble. Lilly looked around the room, duly noting all the faces staring at me. Her point proven, she attempted once more to remove me from the door. I relented.

As we walked to the ‘private room’, Lilly picked up a tissue out of a nearby box and handed it to me. The one-ply tissue came apart the second I dabbed my eyes. Thank god I didn’t wipe my nose with it. I used the cuff of my jacket for that. The corridor that she led us down was a comforting reminder of the hospital where our kids were born. Jessica was born nineteen years ago, when I was just twenty years old. She was unexpected, or a ‘surprise’ as everyone called it. Mark and I were not engaged but we were living together and so in love.

Jennifer, our baby, was another ‘surprise’, born just a year later. The hospital where I gave birth had a unique weave pattern on the wall covering, just like this one. I ran my fingers down it as I walked, feeling the texture. It brought me back to a place where we were all healthy and celebrating new beginnings. I realized just then how much I missed my kids; they were off at college. I was alone. The thought of being alone the rest of my life was terrifying.

I willed myself not to think about it. Mark was still alive; he had to be. He was being pushed too hard down at the station; he was the police chief for his precinct over the last fifteen years and it was finally too much. The doctor had repeatedly warned him that his blood pressure and cholesterol were really high. The cardiologist put him on a strict diet and exercise program and insisted that he reduce his work hours. That was six months ago. But Mark has always been very devoted and loyal, and most of the time he spread himself too thin.

Lilly opened the door to the private room, switched on the light and gestured I should take a seat. There was a comfortable looking three seated couch on one wall, and several other waiting room style chairs along the other walls. Right in the middle of the room stood a large coffee table lined with various magazines ranging from tabloids to medical journals. There was also a phone at the end of the table. Lilly indicated that I was welcome to use that phone if I needed to do so.

I sat on the couch and immediately began chewing my nails.

“Can I get you anything Mrs. Tame?” she asked, taking a small pad and pen out of her pocket.

“Shelley,” I offered.

“Sure. Can I call anyone for you Shelley?” She asked, leaning over me, placing her hand on my shoulder.

I whispered “Um….no, I, I’m going to call my kids.”

She nodded and was about to leave when I quickly raised my head “Just please let me know the minute you have any news of my husband,” I begged, unable to stop the tears.

She nodded and closed the door behind her.

For a moment I wished Lilly would return, so I wouldn’t be alone. I slowly rubbed my face and ran my fingers through my hair. I found a box of two-ply tissues underneath the coffee table. They give the better tissues to the people who really needed it, I thought to myself. I wiped my face and blew my nose then picked up the phone. My memory failed me; I couldn’t remember Jessica’s dorm room number. She had just received a new one the other day and I hadn’t recorded it in my cell phone. I knew Jennifer couldn’t handle what was happening to her father; she had just broken up with her first boyfriend, so I thought it best to wait.

The one number I could recall was Sarah’s; my best friend since high school. She introduced Mark and me, and owned a small costume jewellery store downtown. Since it was only eight o’clock and I knew she would still be at the store, I tried her there.

“Good evening Sarah’s,” she greeted cheerfully.

“It’s me,” I said, trying to stifle a sniffle.

Sarah’s voice turned serious “Hey….is everything okay?”

“No, it’s Mark.” I began to cry again.

I could hear keys jiggling in the background “Where are you?”

“The hospital….in the private room.”

“Jesus Christ. Sit tight, I’m on my way.”

If only Mark had used our home library more in the past year, instead of cooping himself up in that office. Speaking from experience, I know that he could never get a moment’s peace in there. So many times I would call or even stop by on my way home from work, and he would be bombarded by handfuls of people constantly. It came to a point where I had to stop myself from visiting because it was unfair to him with all the pressure that he was under. He was considered a man of integrity and respect at the station, so nobody ever second guessed him and they always looked to him for direction. Mark was a strong leader at his precinct long before he made chief of police. The look on everyone’s faces told me that title was just a formality. He earned his loyalty after the shootout.

God, I’d almost forgotten about that. Mark is such a modest man that he never mentions it. It happened about ten years ago. His name was James Gruber, and he was a convicted rapist and murderer who had served his time and was free on parole. He escaped his parole officer’s watch one night and attacked an entire family. It was all over the news. Gruber was in the area of Mark’s precinct and so all hands were on deck to catch this monster. The 911 call came from a neighbour who heard screaming at 2am. Based on Gruber’s past, Mark knew he would go for the wife first. He was no pedophile, so rather than play Gruber’s game; Mark created a diversion and got the wife out first. As the rest of the team got in to free the remaining family, Mark took Gruber head on. Gruber was shot and Mark earned his rightful place shortly after as Chief of Police.

He always took his role very seriously. Sometimes I wonder how he did it. Up until a year ago, Mark had no trouble balancing family and work. Myself, well, my teaching job quickly became permanent part time after the girls were born. My balancing act was never much of a challenge. Our children have always been such a blessing; they never gave us any trouble. There was the expected teenage drama but nothing else. It was easy for me to work part time and still look after the house and the kids. Mark’s salary and mine combined led us into what most would call a charmed life.

Was this what my life would be now? Sitting alone in a room without my kids or my husband? My tears began to flow again when the door opened. It was Lilly, with Sarah in tow. Sarah came to me as Lily closed the door and left the room.

I tried to stand but it was more of a stumble since my knees had turned to jelly.

“Oh my god! What happened?” Sarah asked as she hugged me.

“I don’t know. I was just on my way home from yoga when he called me.” I said, wiping my nose with my hand.

“He sounded weird and said I better come home, that he wasn’t feeling well. And you know Mark, he never complains, so I knew it was bad.”

“So did you make it home before the ambulance came?”

“Well yeah. I mean I was already almost on our street. He hadn’t even called the ambulance yet. When I walked in he was on the floor”

Sarah embraced me tenderly.

“He wanted to call me first before the ambulance. I don’t know why. I guess he didn’t want me to worry if I got home and saw the scene without knowing. God! Why didn’t he just call the ambulance instead of waiting for me?” I stomped my foot in frustation as I let out a large sob.

“Oh sweetie, if he wasn’t well, then he probably wasn’t thinking clearly. Was he fine when you left for yoga?”

“Well, I didn’t see him before that. We spoke earlier and he said he had to work late again so I went straight to yoga after dinner. I didn’t wait to see him.” I said, thinking how selfish I was. I should have waited to see him before leaving. But how was I to know it might be the last time I would see him coherent?

“Oh honey, honey, don’t blame yourself.” Sarah rubbed my back and shook her head.

“You are not psychic. You had no idea this was going to happen. You said yourself; Mark never complains.”

I nodded.

“So what do the doctors say?”

“I’ve no idea, I’m still waiting. I…I….kn..know his heart stop-“My sobbing wouldn’t allow me to finish my sentence. Sarah took me in her arms once again.

“Do you need to call anyone?” Sarah asked.

I sniffled and dabbed my eyes “Oh God, how am I going to tell the kids?”

“You don’t have to do that. That’s why I’m here.”

“Oh, I can’t let you do that. They should hear it from me.”

“Well, let’s at least wait until we hear something. I mean, either way, you don’t want to spread panic.”

“You’re right. I need some time to compose myself.”

Suddenly, Lilly walked in with a blank expression on her face. My heart sank and I felt everything in my body let go. Sarah grabbed my arm before I hit the ground. The world went black.

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The Wife of a Lesser Man is Sandy's fourth self-published book and her second novel. Her first romantic mystery, Blessed and Betrayed was received very well by readers and reviewers and was given an average of 4.25 stars on Goodreads and Amazon.
Sandy wrote her first two books, which are memoirs, while her children were infants. The Message in Dad's Bottle is about her father, who tragically passed at the age of 41 from alcoholism, and I'll Never Wear a Backless Dress tells Sandy's personal story about her life with Scoliosis.

Sandy is a full time writer and when she isn't writing she's reading, exercising, playing with her children, her cat, or obsessively cleaning her house.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Follow @SandyAppleyard

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Solitary Desire by Kim Defforge {Book Blitz}

{April 22, 2013}

A story of a woman in love with all things French, who accomplishes her dreams through hard work and determination - driven by the overwhelming desire to be who and where she was meant to be. Conveying amusing candor, Defforge takes us along on her journey as she narrates the life events that weave an emotional tapestry, from adolescent imagination to adult life situations. A true story of twists and turns and the author’s courage to follow it. Inspirational and engaging - the perfect read for those who wish to pursue their own life dreams.

Amazon | Barnes & Noble

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Participating BTB Tour Hosts
Every Free Chance Book Reviews
Christine's Words
The Bookworm
My Devotional Thoughts
Coffee & A Book Anytime
Deco My Heart
Brooke Blogs
Authors’ Cafe
Margo Hoornstra
Romance Me

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Excerpt
“An invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break. May you be open to each thread that comes into your life – the golden ones and the coarse ones – and may you weave them into a brilliant and beautiful life.”
(Chinese proverb)

The usual rite of passage, testing one's wings so to speak, generally happens as a 20-something. So, why was I doing it as a 40-something? It’s okay, I told myself, 'pas de problème'. I am an independent, competent, and mature adult. (Aren't I?)

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Born in the U.S. and now, an expat living on the French Riviera. As a former French teacher, and lifelong Francophile, I currently enjoy writing: books, and sharing news, information, and amusing stories on my blog, "24/7 in France."

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Follow @24_7Kim

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Soul Taker by Karen Michelle Nutt {Book Blitz}

{April 29, 2013}

No soul is safe…

A vampire from the Grim Sith sept is sucking the souls out of young women from the Boston area, but this sinister crime is far worse than a vampire seeking substance. He’s selling the souls to the highest bidder and it seems business is booming.

A vampire, a werewolf and a Necromancer, are a most unlikely team, but Garran, Harrison and Isabella plan on putting a kink in the dubbed Soul Taker’s plans. It’s personal now. One of their friends has fallen victim to the Soul Taker’s charms, but to stop him from hurting anyone else, their efforts may involve raising the dead.

Amazon | Barnes & Noble

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Participating BTB Tour Hosts
Mallory Heart Reviews
Celestial Reviews
Tattered Pages
Laurie's Thoughts and Reviews
Real World Writing
Christine's Words
HBS Author's Spotlight
Writerly Ramblings
Cathie Dunn writes...
Open Book Society
Indie Paranormal Book Reviews
FLY HIGH!
Amberkatze's Book Blog
Paranormal Book Club
Simply Ali
Books and Needlepoint

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Excerpt
The night awakened everything dark and foreboding, allowing them to walk among the humans. Garran MacLaurin would be considered such a creature, though with practice he learned to control his unusual appetite to destroy everything in his wake.

From the shadows, Garran watched Isabella Lucci lock her car, the beep of the alarm echoing in the hospital's carport.
She wore a tan long-sleeve shirt with jeans, which looked tailored to fit her trim figure, and designer boots. She turned to go toward the hospital entrance, but something caught her attention. Her feet stilled. Her gaze turned toward him and apprehension crossed her delicate features. She took a hesitant step in his direction, clutching her purse like a lifeline. She scanned the parking lot, searching… For what? He stood still and waited. Finally, she turned and continued inside the hospital.

He would have to be careful. Isabella hadn't seen him, but he knew without a doubt she sensed him. Rare for a human to sense the preternatural world, but then again, if Harrison was correct in his assumptions, Miss Lucci could raise the dead.
Garran waited a respected few minutes so not to run into Miss Lucci. Then he too, entered the hospital.

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Karen Michelle Nutt resides in California with her husband, three fascinating children, and houseful of demanding pets. Jack, her Chorkie, is her writing buddy and sits long hours with her at the computer.

Her Book, Lost in the Mist of Time, was nominated for New Books Review Spotlight Best Fantasy Book of the Year Award 2006. A Twist of Fate was a nominee for Best Time Travel P.E.A.R.L. Award for 2008. Creighton Manor won Honorable Mention P.E.A.R.L. Award 2009.

Her new passion is creating book covers for Western Trail Blazers and Rebecca J. Vickery Publishing. In her spare time, she reviews books for PNR-Paranormal Romance Reviews.

Whether your reading fancy is paranormal, historical or time travel, all her stories capture the rich array of emotions that accompany the most fabulous human phenomena—falling in love.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

Follow @KMNBooks

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The Boy Next Door by Annabelle Costa {Book Blitz}

Book Blitz Tour {May 20, 2013}

The Boy Next Door
by Annabelle Costa
Genre: Chick Lit

Through middle school, high school, bad dates, and an ill-advised punk phase, Tasha has always been able to count on Jason. Since the day he moved in next door, he’s gone from the weird kid in a wheelchair to Tasha’s most trusted friend. But lives change and the friends are going in different directions. When Jason and Tasha rekindle their friendship, sparks fly. After years of being a wild soul, now the ex-lead of a band turned music teacher is just looking for a relationship to last.

When none other than Jason introduces her to a man who can give her what she wants, Tasha is on the verge of throwing passion and love away just so she can forget her troubled past and settle down. But Jason isn’t ready to give her up just yet.

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords

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Featured Tour Hosts

Every Free Chance Book Reviews
Evolvedworld.com
FLY HIGH!
Sparkles and Lightning
Deal Sharing Aunt
Talk Supe
Christine's Words
Coffee & A Book Anytime
Melissa Keir- Romance Author- Sexy Between the Covers
[Insert Clever Quip Here]
Socrates' Book Review Blog
Mom With A Kindle
Laurie's Thoughts and Reviews
Deco My Heart
3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, & Sissy, Too!
My Devotional Thoughts
Just One More Chapter
Brooke Blogs
Melissa MacKinnon
Romance Me

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Excerpt

I wasn’t too happy when my parents told me that I had to try to make friends with the crippled kid who just moved in next door.

I was eight years old. For my entire life thus far, living in a suburb of Pittsburgh, our next-door neighbor was an ornery old woman named Agnes. Why are all old people named Agnes, for some reason? Not that I’m prejudiced against old people or anything. My grandmother, Nana, lived with us and was never an ornery old woman, and probably still the best cook I’ve ever known. Anyway, Agnes failed to wake up one morning, and the house got sold off to a young family with two kids.

I was initially really psyched to find out that the family had two kids, one of whom was allegedly my age. I pictured a girl with blond pigtails who would be my best friend, and we’d make each other friendship bracelets, have sleepovers, and all that fun stuff.

But then my fantasy was crushed when I found out that my new eight-year-old neighbor was a boy. And not just a boy. A boy in a wheelchair.

His name was Jason and I saw him a few times from afar. He went to a different school than I did, and there was a special school bus that picked him up. I saw him waiting with his parents at the curb for the special bus, which was about half the length of the bus that picked me up. My parents told me it was a bus for disabled kids. When it arrived, a ramp would be lowered mechanically and Jason would wheel into it, and the driver would help him get arranged in the bus. My mother yelled at me not to stare, but how could I not stare?

When the Foxes had been living next door for a few weeks, we came over for a visit and to bring them a welcome basket.

My little sister Lydia and I were dressed up in uncomfortable pink clothes, and I was firmly instructed to play with Jason. Lydia, who was only four, was totally off the hook since the older Fox child was a 13-year-old boy.

“I don’t want to play with Jason,” I whined, as my mother did up the buttons on my dress. “He’s weird.”

“Oh, stop it,” my mother said. “He’s not weird.”

“He’s in a wheelchair,” I pointed out.

“Don’t you dare mention that,” my mother snapped.

“Why not?” spoke up my Nana, who was listening in. “I’m sure the boy knows he’s in a wheelchair. It’s not a secret, is it?”

Despite everything, I giggled. I wished my mother would let Nana come along, but they were too worried about her making a comment like that. Apparently, she lost her self-censor somewhat as she got older, although Daddy said she’d always kind of been like that.

Fifteen minutes later, my mother was shoving Lydia and me in the direction of the house next door. We rang the bell and Mrs. Fox answered, greeting us warmly. “Jill!” she cried. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“This is for you,” my mother said, handing over the basket of fruit and muffins. “You met my husband, Gerald. And these are my daughters, Lydia and Tasha.”

“Nice to meet you, girls,” Mrs. Fox said. “My older son Randy isn’t here now, but Jason is very excited to meet you.”

My eyes met those of the boy sitting in a small, simple wheelchair several yards behind his mother. I could tell by his khaki slacks and lame sweater-vest that he too had been forced to dress up for the occasion. He looked just as miserable as I did.

“He’s eight, isn’t he?” Mom asked. “Tasha is eight as well.”

“Yes, that’s wonderful,” Mrs. Fox said. “They could play together.” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper that people a mile away could hear loud and clear: “Jason hasn’t been having an easy time making new friends.”

Yeah. What a shock.

With that sentiment, Jason and I were herded off in the direction of his bedroom, presumably for me to be his new best friend. We both went, sort of like lambs being led to the slaughter.

Once we were alone in Jason’s room, we both just sat there awkwardly, not saying anything to each other. We were too young to even know how to make polite conversation.

I tried not to stare at Jason, but it was hard not to. I mean, really hard. Why did he need a wheelchair anyway? Maybe he had some awful disease where he was dying. Maybe it was contagious! Maybe he had some contagious fatal disease and my mother had locked me alone in a room with him. She’d be so sorry when I died.

Although to be honest, Jason didn’t really look like he was dying. He looked pretty much like a normal kid, but he was sitting in a wheelchair. He had short brown hair that it looked like his mother had attempted to comb, yet he’d managed to get it messy again before our arrival. He had green eyes that were bright, even in spite of how clearly miserable he was at the moment. And then there were the freckles that were sprinkled down either side of his nose, although those disappeared years later.

I was perched gingerly on Jason’s bed. He had Star Wars blankets. Actually, I had to admit, he had some pretty cool toys.

My mother always bought me dolls, but the thing is, dolls didn’t do much. Maybe these days, dolls cry and piss their diapers or whatever, but back then, in the eighties, dolls were much less interesting. But Jason had toys that did cool stuff. He had toy cars and trucks, he had a rocket, and a huge box of Legos. But what really piqued my interest was that he had what looked like a huge box of TRANSFORMERS.

Confession time: I loved Transformers. I watched the TV show religiously every Saturday, rooting for the Autobots to defeat the evil Decepticons. But nobody would buy me any Transformers because I was a girl and obviously it’s not an appropriate toy for girls. So I had about half a dozen My Little Ponies and at least a dozen Barbie dolls, but no cars that turned into robots. It was a source of frustration for me. Every time I asked my mother, she’d say, “What do you want one of those awful toys for? You’re a girl!”

But Jason, he owned the mother lode.

“Um,” I said, working up my nerve. “Are those, um, Transformers?”

Jason brightened. “Yeah. You like Transformers?”

I nodded shyly.

To my delight, Jason grabbed the whole big box and dumped them out on his bed. He seriously had every Transformer in existence. He had Optimus Prime, of course, most of the Autobots, Megatron, the Decepticons including the cassette spies, plus a bunch of the newer ones like the Dinobots, the Insecticons, and even Devastator. I was majorly impressed. If I were a little older, I would have creamed myself or something.

“Oh my God,” I breathed. “You’re the luckiest person alive.”

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About Annabelle Costa

Annabelle Costa is a teacher, who writes in her free time. She enjoys the wounded hero genre, involving male love interests with physical disabilities, who don’t follow the typical Hollywood perception of sexy.

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Night Stars & Mourning Doves by Margo Hoornstra FREE Amazon Download {April 9 thru 13, 2013}

Night Stars and Mourning Doves (Dearly Beloved)
by Margo Hoornstra
Published by The Wild Rose Press

Free Download Exclusively on Amazon April 9 thru 13, 2013

Elyse Monroe may be her sister's maid of honor, but that doesn't mean she has to follow the bride's example and fall in love. Battle-scarred and weary from previous relationships, she has no desire to take a chance on another--no matter how many hints her little sister drops about the best man.

Devastating life events have taken a toll on Eric Matthews. After losing his wife and unborn daughter, he's come home to heal. Serving as best man at his kid brother's wedding is the only relationship he cares to contemplate--no matter how attractive the maid of honor.

Thrown together again and again by wedding duties, Elyse and Eric reluctantly agree to explore a possible relationship--only to have their casual date turn into a glorious night of passion. Can two hearts, convinced a happily ever after will never happen, recognize love when it finds them?

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Blitz Tour Schedule

April 9, 2013
Laurie's Thoughts and Reviews
Authors’ Cafe

April 10, 2013
[Insert Clever Quip Here]
Have Novel, Will Edit
Stuck In Books

April 11, 2013
Christine's Word
Sharon C. Cooper, Just Thinking
It's All About The Romance

April 12, 2013
Sun Mountain Reviews
Romance Me

April 13, 2013
Fly High!
Just One More Chapter
Diane Burton ~ out of this world adventures
HBS Author's Spotlight

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Excerpt

“Remodeling your home to accommodate Jay and me. Isn’t that a little extreme?”

Lips pursed, he shook his head. “Your mother and I have talked about adding on for years. Anyway, whatever we put into this house should increase its value eventually.” Setting aside the paper once and for all, his expression mellowed as he regarded his son. “Helping you out is helping us out.”

“It’s nice to hear you say that. And I want you to know I do appreciate what you’re doing for us. Especially Jay.”

“Losing your mother at any age is tough,” he replied as he stood. “It’s gotta be especially devastating when you’re as young as my grandson. He still needs someone to care for him like a mother, and Iris is more than up to the task.”

“She is that,” Eric began, then made himself quit talking.

Hard to admit, but he wanted someone to care for him, or at least listen when he needed them to. It wasn’t easy to look for a woman when you’re mortally injured and still require time to heal. Right now, it seemed all the time in the world would never make him whole again.

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Margo Hoornstra

My personal history in a nutshell is pretty simple. I’m a wife to one; mother to four—seven if you count in-law children which I do—and grandmother to four so far.

My work experience includes public relations specialist, magazine editor, television producer, and script and speech writer. I’m also a founding member of Mid-Michigan Romance Writers of America.

Website | Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

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