by Angela Smith | Jan 10, 2014 | Guests
Welcome to today’s guest tour, featuring The Latecomer’s Fan Club, by Diane V. Mulligan!
Diane will be awarding a $25 Gift Card to Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or iTunes, to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour! Be sure to click on the banner to follow the tour, and comment on each tour stop. The more you comment, the better your chance of winning!
Blurb:
What is it about guys with guitars in their hands that makes them so irresistible, even when they are obviously self-centered jerks? If Abby and Maggie could answer that question, maybe they could finally get over Nathaniel. There’s just something about him when he picks up his guitar and gets behind the microphone, something that makes sensible women act like teeny-boppers instead of rational, self-respecting adults.
Abby was first sucked in by Nathaniel’s rock ’n roll swagger four years ago when a drunken fling turned into a series of drunken hook-ups that became something like a relationship. Now, as New Year’s Eve promises a fresh start, she wants to believe he’s finally going to grow up and take their relationship seriously.
What does Nathaniel hope the new year will bring? An escape from the disappointing realities of his life. He’s thirty-four years old and he’s barely making ends meet as an adjunct philosophy professor, which was always only a back up plan anyway. Nathaniel’s real goal was always to make his living as a musician, but his band, The Latecomers, broke up a couple of years ago, and he hasn’t picked up his guitar in months. When he decides to spend the holiday with some high school friends instead of hanging out at the bar where Abby works, he gets the happy surprise of reuniting with his long-lost friend Maggie. Newly divorced, Maggie has just moved back to her mother’s house to regroup.
Nathaniel and Maggie were supposed to be the ones who left Worcester forever to conquer the world. He was going to be a rock star. She was going to take the world of art by storm. He’s never gotten farther than Boston, and her best effots only left her broke and heartbroken. As they ring in the New Year together, Nathaniel decides it’s time to take control of his life and to start making his dreams come true. He thinks the first step will be easy. All he needs to do is break up with Abby and finally admit his feelings for Maggie. But the new year has more surprises in store, and nothing is ever as simple as it seems.
Excerpt:
People seem to believe—and Maggie herself once thought—that divorce was the result of some cataclysmic event, that a marriage in trouble reached its end like a pot boiling over. But her experience taught her otherwise. It was more like a pot set on a burner to simmer and then forgotten until the contents evaporated and all that was left was a blackened pot. No one ever told you that an argument over how to load the dishwasher could be the end of your marriage. And, Maggie wondered, in cases like hers—the slow simmer and burn of her six years of marriage—how do two reasonable, responsible adults who are clearly incompatible in fundamental ways make the decision to get married in the first place? How in the world had she and Andrew ever thought marriage was a good idea? One night shortly after she filed for divorce, Maggie had called her mother and asked her that very question.
“You married him because you were in love,” her mother had said, but that wasn’t it at all and Maggie knew it. She had never been in love with Andrew. She had been attracted to him. She had been attracted to the lifestyle he could provide for her. But she hadn’t been in love. No, she believed that romantic love was a myth, a fairytale, a childish notion, and she had told herself to be practical. What everyone wants is companionship and financial security, and Andrew could provide those things. She thought Andrew was similarly pragmatic. They were not the sort of couple who said “I love you” a dozen times a day.
And even now, even though it hadn’t worked out, Maggie didn’t think the failure of their marriage was due to a lack of love. She thought she could survive that if other parts of it were okay, but Andrew hadn’t been the companion Maggie needed, nor had she been what he needed. How do you explain any of that at a New Year’s party to someone you haven’t spoken to in fifteen years? How do you explain that you wept in front of the TV during the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton because you couldn’t warn her that she was making a terrible mistake, that she wasn’t going to have a fairytale life as a princess, that the only life she was going to have was the one he said she could have from now on?
When pressed by someone to give a more specific answer, Maggie always chose the shortest version of the story: he wanted children, she didn’t.
Diane Vanaskie Mulligan began writing her first novel, Watch Me Disappear, during an after-school writing club she moderates for high school students. She published it in August 2012. It was a 2013 Kindle Book Review Best Indie Book Award Finalist in the YA category. Her second novel, The Latecomers Fan Club, will be released in November 2013.
Diane holds a BA in American Studies from Mount Holyoke College and a Master’s degree in teaching from Simmons College. When she isn’t teaching or writing, she’s the managing editor at The Worcester Review and the director of The Betty Curtis Worcester County Young Writers’ Conference You can also find her occasionally strumming her guitar and singing at various bars in central Massachusetts, where she lives with her husband.
LINKS:
http://www.dvmulligan.com
http://www.amazon.com/The-Latecomers-Club-Diane-Mulligan/dp/1492221996/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1383078097&sr=8-1&keywords=the+latecomers+fan+club
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-latecomers-fan-club-diane-v-mulligan/1116995396?ean=2940045290449
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/360992
https://twitter.com/Mulligan_writes
by Angela Smith | Dec 18, 2013 | Guests
Liza will be awarding a digital copy of “Worst Week Ever” to a randomly drawn commenter at every stop, and a grand prize of one $50 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during this tour and her Virtual Book Tour.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Welcome to today’s blog tour with author, Liza O’Connor. I’ve invited Liza to answer some questions I had for her, and he’s what she had to say. Also, be sure to check out the rest of her blog tour (click banner to follow her tour) and enter for chance to win a digital copy of “Worst Week Ever” or a $50 Amazon GC!
Two sexy English brothers. One irresistible ghost. Who would you choose as your lover?
Completely broke and with a criminal record to boot, Senna Smith is one day from eviction from her apartment when Brendon, her promiscuous roommate from London, suggests she go to England, marry him, and manage his fortune. With few other options, she agrees to an open marriage. But she’ll never, ever, have sex with him, knowing if she falls in love with him, he’ll break her heart.
As trustee of Brendon’s family fortune, there is no way Brendon’s older brother, Garrison Durran, is going to let him marry a self-professed American gold-digger. As Senna tries to embrace castle life and English society for Brendon’s sake, Gar discovers Senna is the perfect woman for him–beautiful and intelligent, kind and caring. Now, if she wasn’t already engaged to his brother…
The ancestral ghost of Durran Castle has to intervene if the Durran brothers have any chance of an heir. He can’t leave them to fix matters on their own. They are useless buggers when it comes to love. As counselor to Gar, matchmaker for Brendon, and lover to Senna, a ghost’s work is never done.
CONTENT WARNING: Allergy warning: Ghost cat in book.
Excerpt…
“So my brother steals all your money and to compensate you, he suggests you come to England, marry him, and he’ll give you his trust fund.” Only his brother could contrive such an absurd plan.
“Yes.” By her brief answer, he gathered she thought it a perfectly reasonable solution.
His brother might be an idiot, but this gold digger would soon discover Gar a force to reckon with. “Did he steal a half million from your bank account?”
Brendon laughed. “Do you have any idea how long that would take? Cash machines only allow you two visits a day at two hundred dollars a pop.”
“How much did he take?” Gar restated his question.
“Four hundred,” Senna replied.
Gar stared up at the ceiling praying for patience, then glared at Ditz. “So why didn’t you pay her back the four hundred?”
Ditz stubbornly refused to answer, and instead glanced at the girl.
She sighed and faced Gar. “Precisely what I asked. He said he didn’t have the four hundred, but if I married him, he would come into a half million. Since the landlord planned to evict me, I really had no choice but to accept the offer.”
Author Interview:
What intrigues you about Ghost Lover?
Since I have a ghost in my house, I believe they really exist. Therefore letting them in my books as another character occurs on occasion. However, one morning I woke from a dream where I made love to a sexy male ghost. That sent me downstairs to my computer to determine if making love to a ghost can actually happen. Turns out people have been reporting ghost lovers all through history. Thus, I declared it fair game, and wrote the book.
Who or what is your greatest writing influence?
Reality triggers a great deal of my stories. Turns out reality is far stranger than fiction. It is so weird, that people block out a great deal so they can pretend to live in a sane, understandable environment. I, however, was not destined for this simplified view of life. My world is complex and incomprehensible, and often just downright freaky. Thus, I accept in my works of fiction a great deal more than the average person believes possible. Ironically, most of what I write about has happened, or is widely reported to have happened, even though many readers, while enjoying the book, declare me way over the top.
When did you absolutely know that you had to be a writer?
Before I knew how to write. I used to entertain my friends with verbal stories when I got old enough to wander out and find other little people. I believe I was 3. From there onward story making, then writing took a major role in my life.
What was your favorite part of writing Ghost Lover?
I love the beginning when Senna agrees to marry Brendon to manage his half a million dollars, even though she doesn’t love him and will never ever have sex with him. It really gets funny when she tries to explain this to Brendon’s older brother, who thinks her the most brazen gold-digger he’s ever met. Then there comes a crisis that forces the sexy ghost Lassier to make love to Senna in order to keep her from leaving the castle, only he does his job too well and falls in love with her, and then there’s the fabulous happy ending, which I can’t tell you about. I can’t decide. Let’s just say, I love the book.
What is your favorite aspect of reading a novel?
Being surprised. I can usually guess how the novel will end by the first chapter, so I enjoy a book that keeps me guessing. However, the game has to be fair. You can’t have the villain show up on the last page.
Are you a plotter, a panster, or both?
I create my characters and they create my plot. Some wear pants, some wear dresses, so I avoid the word pantser.
Do you have a certain theme in all of your novels?
Not that I am aware of. Right now I’m bringing out my humorous novels, so you can expect to laugh presently, but somewhere in the future, I will turn in a different direction. However, one thing won’t change: I present life lessons in all my stories. So maybe that’s my theme: Bizarre Life Lessons from Liza.
Is there a message in Ghost Lover you want readers to grasp?
Off hand, I can think of several:
Emotions can make you illogical, both anger and love;
New beginnings can be good for you;
A person can love many people in different ways.
Never be afraid to love.
Do you have a specific writing style?
I have a definite voice, which has been called unique by several reviewers. I spend a great deal of time protecting it during the editing process.
Do you ever use your life experiences in your novels?
All the time. It’s normally the crazy things in my book that you might think could never happen.
If you were stranded on a deserted island and could only take one book with you, what would you take?
I would take a notebook so I could write new stories while I waited to be rescued.
If you were stranded on a deserted island and could only take one song with you, what would you take?
I have thousands of songs in my head and I like to hear me sing, so I don’t think you can limit the number of songs I take. However, you are starting to worry me with your questions beginning with me stuck on a deserted island. If your next question is who would I like to be stranded with, my answer is President Obama, because I don’t want to be stranded on a desert island away from my pc, electricity and the internet. However, if Obama is with me, I’m pretty sure the Secret Service would be there to rescue us before I could finish telling him about one of my stories.
Are you working on any projects right now?
I should be finished with edits on the last book of my series A Long Road to Love: Coming To Reason, coming out in Feb 2014.
And working on edits for my Xavier and Vic series to begin in April 2014.
Do you see writing as a career?
Yes. I work at it 17 hours a day, so it’s definitely a profession, but it is without doubt the WORST PAYING JOB EVER!
If you had the career of your choice, what would you choose and why?
Writing. I had a great career in business, which I gave up to be a poor starving author because all I’ve ever wanted to do is write.
Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?
Even at three, I wanted to tell people stories. It’s a compulsion that has never waned.
Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?
Nothing. It’s a pure joy to do.
What advice would you give to your younger self?
Don’t change my future. I’m very happy now.
Which famous person, living or dead would you like to meet and why?
I would like to meet President Obama. I think we’d get along really well. Michelle can join the conversation, but I’d want the Secret Service guys to leave. Otherwise, they’d probably shoot me when I just wanted to hug those two. I get into trouble all too easy.
If you could have been the original author of any book, what would it have been and why?
I suppose I would be Jane Austen, and I’d be writing Pride and Prejudice. It’s my favorite book. I get such a great sense of peace when reading it. Jane manages to write a brilliant love story without a mention of sex.
How can readers discover more about you and you work?
Website & Blog: http://www.lizaoconnor.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Liza.O.Connor.Wakes.UpTwitter: @Liza0Connor
Lnkedin: http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=187609819&trk=nav_responsive_tab_profile
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/lizaoconnor/ghost-lover/
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Liza-OConnor/e/B00A82LHNO/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6537428.Liza_O_Connor
Thank you very much for taking the time out of your busy schedule to take part in this interview!
Thank you for having me.
ebook: http://www.amazon.com/Ghost-Lover-Liza-OConnor-ebook/dp/B00H1J5OS6/
Print: http://www.amazon.com/Ghost-Lover-Liza-OConnor/dp/1493667386/
by Angela Smith | Dec 10, 2013 | Guests
Welcome to today’s tour of Blood and Gold, by Hawk MacKinney. Hawk will be awarding a $20 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Please click banner above for other tour stops, and be sure to comment for your chance to win.
Blood and Gold, the third book in The Craige Ingram Mystery Series, once again tests the instincts and skills of retired Navy SEAL/part-time private investigator Craige Ingram. Lust, greed, body parts and unrestrained wild sex parties are what await Craige Ingram when he leaves the comforts of his South Carolina home to visit his former SEAL buddy, Detective Spinner Krespinak. Set in the Colorado underbelly of a sordid sable and faux glitz ski mecca, Detective Spinner Krespinak suspects drugs have made their way to the snowy playground that is Aspen. An Olympic ski hopeful is brutally murdered, Spinner vanishes, and Craige Ingram is shot as events spin out of control with a Catch-22 no one anticipates.
Excerpt…
The drive up the narrow mountain rutted road was a risky, hands-on-the-wheel icy slid-and-skid. With a grim set to his jaws, Spinner didn’t say a word the whole way. They parked among the jumble of squad cars. Craige avoided the taped-off areas while Spinner huddled with Loopy. Silently they paced-off and studied the layout of each room of the mansion…each room except the one where death waited to greet Spinner. No one except Craige and Loopy knew how Spinner wasn’t as detached as he appeared. Spinner traced and retraced his steps. Seeing beyond Spinner’s detached veneer of the professional, Craige could read the surly stir of emotions Spinner was struggling to control.
Finally…there was nothing left except to face the grizzly business of felony homicide and the dead. Spinner went back to where Loopy was busy. As though wanting to avoid seeing what waited in that room, he said, “Any ideas about the time of death?”
Loopy said, “Only a rough approximation at this point. I’d approximate somewhere between eight in the morning and two or three in the afternoon. We haven’t moved the bodies yet, but from what indications of livor mortis I could see, I’m leaning toward it being earlier. Central heat was off…fireplace ashes are still warm. Once we determine algor mortis changes in the body temps, I’ll be able to narrow that some. We’ve already picked up thirty to forty different sets of prints. Could easily be twice that before we finish. Most so smudged they’re no good. The rancher who lives at the valley turnoff said cars were going back and forth all night. How it wasn’t the first time they had all-night mountaintop blowouts up there. We bagged used condoms from all over this place—bedrooms, baths, all over the house. We’ll compare DNA with that of the victims. See if we get any matches that narrow down any persons of interest. Looks to be marijuana and freebase by the fireplace and in the breakfast room. And what is likely Mexican black heroin on the carpet in the den. Lord only knows what else we’ll turn up. I’ll be surprised if we don’t find Silk or S-K. There’s at least a case of empty aerosol cans, probably for heavy-duty huffing. We’ll see what the lab tells us…hopefully that’ll fill in more details.”
Spinner said, “Before Frannie left for Denver last night, Ski came by and borrowed my wheels to get here. Brought them back about noon. Christy and the two men had to be alive at the time Ski left. Depending on road conditions, it takes about an hour to get from here back into town. The low last night was below zero, but there was no heavy weather—no wind.” His eyes flashed hurt and anger, a silent reckoning stirring somewhere deep and hidden. “Ski would party ’till the last minute.” Spinner hesitated. “Least, I’d like to think it was that. I wouldn’t like thinking he’d use me as an alibi.” The thought of the possibility was a heart-pain that sliced deep into his soul. “Give me a few minutes before you zip them up.”
Loopy nodded. “No hurry. Take what time you need.”
A very still Spinner turned a masque-face back to the bed…emotions churning his features. A lump knotted his throat. Looking down at Christy’s lifeless body, the bullet hole a vulgar insult to a death mask of frozen beauty…it seemed somehow otherworldly. “…never could trust your flighty-canary way of life.” The niche occupied by carefree fun-loving Christy seemed stark and empty.
Author Bio:
With postgraduate degrees and faculty appointments in several medical universities, Hawk MacKinney has taught graduate courses in both the United States and Jerusalem. In addition to professional articles and texts on chordate neuroembryology, Hawk has authored several works of fiction.
Hawk began writing mysteries for his school newspaper. His works of fiction, historical love stories, science fiction and mystery-thrillers are not genre-centered, but plot-character driven, and reflect his southwest upbringing in Arkansas, Texas and Oklahoma. Moccasin Trace, a historical novel nominated for the prestigious Michael Shaara Award for Excellence in Civil War Fiction and the Writers Notes Book Award, details the family bloodlines of his serial protagonist in the Craige Ingram Mystery Series… murder and mayhem with a touch of romance. Vault of Secrets, the first book in the Ingram series, was followed by Nymrod Resurrection, Blood and Gold, and The Lady of Corpsewood Manor. All have received national attention. Hawk’s latest release in the Ingram series is due out this fall with another mystery-thriller work out in 2014. The Bleikovat Event, the first volume in The Cairns of Sainctuarie science fiction series, was released in 2012.
“Without question, Hawk is one of the most gifted and imaginative writers I have had the pleasure to represent. His reading fans have something special to look forward to in the Craige Ingram Mystery Series. Intrigue, murder, deception and conspiracy–these are the things that take Hawk’s main character, Navy ex-SEAL/part-time private investigator Craige Ingram, from his South Carolina ancestral home of Moccasin Hollow to the dirty backrooms of the nation’s capital and across Europe and the Middle East.”
Barbara Casey, President
Barbara Casey Literary Agency
Links:
www.hawkmackinney.net
www.amazon.com
www.barnesandnoble.com
by Angela Smith | Dec 5, 2013 | Introspective
Welcome to Today’s Blurb Blitz Tour!
MaryAnn will be awarding an autographed print copy of the book (international giveaway) to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Click on Banner for more stops, or find it here at GoddessFish.
Instead of feeding her late-night appetite, a midnight food run nearly gets 28-year-old Katherine O’Brian killed. She’s the only person to see the man who brutally murdered a local woman, and the killer is hell-bent on making sure she doesn’t talk.
Scott Mitchell left a broken engagement behind when he moved to Reno, and the last thing he needs is more melodrama. But when he and Katherine are paired for a college project, that’s what he gets. It can be very distracting when someone is out to kill your lab partner. Together, they try to figure out what the police haven’t been able to—the identity of the murderer. Passion flares, but with Katherine’s life in danger, romance seems like more than a bad idea.
Scott and Katherine will face jealousy, misunderstandings, lust, and rivals, not to mention attempted murder—and all before their first real date.
Excerpt…
The following night, Katherine got a call from Scott.
“Hey, I did some research on the lady who got killed.”
“Oh, good.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. I probably didn’t find out anything you didn’t already know. I’m gonna come over.”
“Okay, I’ll see you in a little bit.”
Five minutes later, Scott arrived. He walked to the kitchen table where Katherine was sitting.
“Hey,” he said, “so here’s what I have so far. The woman’s name was Jeanette Churchill. She’d lived in the house for twenty years. She worked for a company called CTS. The police say it’s being treated as a robbery gone badly. ”
“That’s it?”
“No. I know a few people who work where she did, reliable people. They say there were rumors she was embezzling from the company.”
Katherine sat forward, her elbows resting on the table. “Do you think the police have heard those rumors, too?”
“Well, they wouldn’t have heard them from the people I know, but yeah, it’s likely they have.”
“Sounds like a motive for murder to me.”
“Sure, but she’d worked for that company twenty years, so I’m not sure I’d believe she was stealing. Plus, if she was, it seems like the obvious killer would be the owner, and he’s a real big shot. The people I’ve talked to seem to think he’s the person most likely pulling in favors and putting pressure on the police to find her killer.”
Katherine looked skeptical. “But if that’s the case, wouldn’t it be kind of risky to fund an investigation into a murder you committed?”
Scott sat down across from Katherine. He pulled his coat off before answering. “This isn’t the movies. I don’t know if she was stealing or not, but I think the police are probably right. Someone tried to rob her and something went wrong. I have a friend who’s a cop. Not in Reno, but maybe he can find something out.”
“Amy said they have a suspect. Did you hear anything about that?”
“No, I didn’t hear anything like that.”
“Thanks for all this, Scott.”
“Aw, I didn’t do anything. So, you and Michael—you two hitting it off?” he said, trying to sound casual.
“So far. He does wear me out, though.”
“Please, no details—you’re like a sister to me.”
“That’s not what I meant, you perv. I just mean when we get together, it’s usually for something active.”
“When are you going to buy a bike? It’s great weather right now for biking, not too hot, not too cold. I go out as often as I can, which isn’t often enough.”
“I can’t afford a nice bike right now. Maybe when I get my tax refund back. I get out plenty enough as it is. You know, Michael actually talked me into going kayaking on the Truckee River.”
“Are you nuts?”
“Hey, it’s nearly April.”
“In two months!”
“Close enough, and it’s been warmer than usual this year. We did go to see a show downtown. At least that was indoors.”
“Again? Didn’t you two go see a show not that long ago?”
“Yes, we’ve been twice now, and I don’t know how many more half-naked people wearing feathered headdresses I can take.”
“Feathered headdresses, huh? You haven’t gone kinky on me, have you? Please say yes, please say yes.”
“Yeah, real kinky. We even have safe words. Mine is sugar cookie. Who has time to be kinky anyway? Except for the shows, we hardly spend any time indoors. How’s Verna?”
“Fine. She likes to read those real-life crime books, so if I mysteriously kick the bucket—”
“I’ll thank her,” said Katherine, laughing.
About MaryAnn Kempher
MaryAnn Kempher’s writing is infused with romance and mystery. Her love of romance stories goes back to her teen years spent living in Reno NV where Mocha, Moonlight, and Murder is set. MaryAnn’s travels have taken her to beautiful cities in Italy, Southeast Asia and the sultry desert country of Qatar. She met her husband on one of her romantic misadventures. She has two children and currently lives in Florida where she and her family share their home with two dogs and a cat. Her writing influences include favorite authors Jane Austen and Agatha Christie. She’s also a huge fan of the Hercule Poirot mysteries.
Her guilty pleasures include any and all sweets, including a good cup of Mocha.
For more about MaryAnn Kempher, visit mkempher.com
Buy Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Mocha-Moonlight-Murder-MaryAnn-Kempher-ebook/dp/B00CD4AYVG
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mocha-moonlight-and-murder-maryann-kempher/1115124644
by Angela Smith | Nov 26, 2013 | Guests
Welcome to today’s post featuring Christmas Dinner, by Robyn Neely! Who wouldn’t want an awesome fudge recipe to prep for the upcoming holiday season?!?
As a Black Friday bonus, if you comment, and I’ll enter you to win a copy of Christmas Dinner! Winner released on Black Friday . The day after Thanksgiving!
Delicious Holiday Fudge!
2/3 cups evaporated milk
2 cups sugar
1 square of baker’s chocolate
1 stick margarine or butter
4 Hershey candy bars
½ cup of nuts
1tsp.vanilla
Stir first three ingredients well and bring to a boil.
Boil for three minutes. Add margarine or butter the last 1 1/2 minutes stirring all the time
Take fudge from heat and stir in Hershey bars (broken up) and nuts. Beat until thick, add vanilla and pour in an 8 x 8 buttered pan. Add nuts to the top if you’d like. Put in the refrigerator until set, then cut into squares.
About Christmas Dinner
News anchor Amanda Turner used to love everything about the holidays—the eggnog sugar cookies, the tacky family Christmas sweaters, and a lawn decorated with so many multi-colored lights that 747s could land safely. That is until her boyfriend dumped her in front of the whole town on Christmas Eve. Humiliated, she fled her small town start a new life. Two years later, she’s finally ready to return to the scene of the emotional crime, until she learns that her ex is engaged. Now, the only thing worse than going home is going home single.
Tate Ryan, her tall, dark, and arrogant co-anchor, offers to pose as her boyfriend. There’s one problem, though: they barely like each other, and he recently scooped her story on live TV. But she needs a ride home and a boyfriend fast, so Tate will have to do.
As she watches Tate interact with her family and town residents, fully embracing the spirit of the holiday season, she starts to see his kindhearted side. She can’t help but wonder if she was wrong about him. Perhaps he isn’t the conniving co-worker that she once thought. And her new feelings for him would definitely put her on the naughty list.
Tate has his own agenda for the weekend that includes telling Amanda he’s been in love with her since the first time they met. He’s ready to reveal all during Christmas dinner but fate has other plans.
Purchase on Amazon or Barnes & Noble
About Robyn
Robyn Neeley is an East Coaster who loves to explore new places; watches way more reality TV than she cares to admit; can’t live without Dunkin Donuts coffee and has never met a cookie she didn’t like. If you have a must read romance suggestion or a fabulous cookie recipe, she wants to know. Visit her at robynneeley.com.
Enjoy an Excerpt from Christmas Dinner!
“I’ll have another, please.” Amanda waved her empty wine glass and glanced up at the mounted television. Their explosive local story had made national news. “I really need to get out of this town,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?” The bartender picked up her glass. He was wearing a Santa hat.
“Oh, nothing.” She pointed at his head, changing the subject. “Do they make you wear that?”
“Nah, I just like to get into the Christmas spirit.” He grabbed a bottle of wine, refilling her glass.
“Christmas spirit,” she echoed dryly. She remembered that feeling. It was only two years ago that it was her favorite time of year-two heartbreaking years. “Thanks.”
She took a long gulp and went back to brooding over Brad’s status update. What if she ran into him and his fiancée this weekend? Oh, God. What if she knew her?
“Hey, Santa, think you could bring me a boyfriend to take home this weekend?” she asked sarcastically. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of a man in a suit. She knew its owner immediately.
“Why, Ace, are you taking resumes?”
She spun around and shook her head. Tate had taken the empty seat next to her. Her knees briefly touched his. “What the- where did you come from? Are you following me now?” She drank her wine. “I hate you,” she mumbled.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He pointed to her fresh glass. “I see you’re celebrating. Mind if I join you?”
She pushed off her seat. “Sorry, I was just leaving.” Her legs wobbled, and she felt a little tipsy. When had she become such a lightweight? She sat down to regain her equilibrium. “On second thought, I was here first.”
The bartender came over. “Sir, can I get you anything?”
“A stocking full of coal would be appropriate,” Amanda interjected sweetly. She glared at Tate and raised her finger directly at a group of women on the other side of the bar who were looking their way. She suspected they were gushing over Tate. Most women did.
“See that cougar in the tight sequined silver top and black hooker stilettos? I’m sure she’s one of your fans. I’d bet my paycheck she’d love to have the great Tate Ryan make her night.”
Tate nodded to the woman and pulled Amanda’s arm down. She felt his hand linger.
“I think I’ll pass.” He signaled the bartender and said, “Hey, buddy, could I get a Manhattan?” Then he turned back to Amanda. “Okay, talk to me, Mandy. Why so glum?”
“Don’t call me that. My brother calls me Mandy, and I’m angry with him right now, too.” She stood once again and reached for her purse, determined this time to get away from her co-anchor. “I think I’ll get a table-for one. Merry Christmas, Tate,” she said flatly.
She walked over to the dining area and scanned the room for an empty table. There was one near the window. She plopped down in a chair.
Tate sauntered over.
“Oh, no. No, no.” She raised her hand in protest. “You are not sitting here.”
“Look, you can’t still be angry with me for what happened earlier.”
“Why can’t I?”
“Ace, you know I didn’t sabotage you.” He pulled out a chair and took a seat.
Amanda sighed. “I know.”
“Listen, let’s order some dinner. My treat. I’m starving, and I’ll bet you are, too. We’ll eat, and you can tell me why you’re here drowning your sorrows because this can’t all be my fault. Start from the beginning. I’m a great listener.” He scrolled through his iPhone. “Was it really that bad of a day?” he asked, glancing up.
“You can’t be serious. You did not just ask me that.”
Tate shrugged. “It’s one story. There will be others.”
“Not like this one.”
“You really believe that?”
Amanda shrugged. “I don’t know what I think anymore. Let’s just order. Will you promise to leave me alone after we eat?”
“Deal. Okay, where to begin? All right, why do you hate me? No. Wait.” Tate jerked his hand up in the air in a halt. “Don’t answer that. Let’s start with a softball question. Why do you hate the holidays?” He grabbed the other menu on the table.
“I don’t hate the holidays.”
Tate smirked. “Amanda, you pretty much tell anyone who wishes you a Merry Christmas to go to hell.”
“That’s not true.”
“Not to mention I had to twist your arm for you to do the kick-off story on this year’s toy drive.”
“That hardly makes me a scrooge. I agreed to it, didn’t I?”
He pointed at the window. “Speaking of toys, did you see that huge Santa and sleigh on the flatbed truck in the parking lot? It’s filled with all kinds of fun things. What do you think they’re doing with all those toys?”
Amanda followed his gaze out the window. In the darkness, she could just make out a life-size Santa and sleigh. God, she hated sleighs.
She could also see Tate’s reflection in the glass. The man certainly knew how to wear a suit. Why did he have to be so incredibly good looking? His eyes met hers, causing her cheeks to warm. She glanced away and reached for the breadbasket. “Does it really matter?”
“I’m just trying to lighten the mood.” He flipped his menu to the other side.
She sighed. He was right. It was common knowledge around the station that she wasn’t a big fan of the holidays.
“You’re right. I do get somewhat uptight this time of year,” she admitted. “I was planning on going home tomorrow, but now I don’t know-”
Tate looked up and interrupted. “You’re not going home for Christmas? Why?”
“I don’t know what to do. My mother will kill me if I don’t. My older sister’s about to have a baby.”
“Everything okay?”
“With her, yes. It’s just I received some unsettling news about my ghost from Christmas past.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” She slid back in her chair and took a drink. “It’s just hard to be single during the holidays, I guess.”
Tate studied her. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type of woman who gets down in the dumps for being single this time of year.”
“I’m not.” She paused. “Well, maybe I am a little. You think you’re headed down this precise path to achieving all of your carefully planned out goals-good grades, great college, solid career, the guy, perfect marriage, great sex-”
“Why, Ace, I could help you with that last goal.”
Amanda rolled her eyes. Of course he could. She continued, “Adorable kids and a nice house.” She sat up in her chair. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy in Wilmington. I’ve got a wonderful career, good friends, and my beautiful beachside condo bought and paid for. It’s just . . . I don’t know. You think everything is on track and then a-”
“Teleprompter jams,” he finished.
Her eyes started to water. “Something like that.” She immediately looked out the window to hide the evidence. Tate could not see her cry.
“So how long has it been since you’ve been home?”
“Two years.” Amanda grabbed a piece of bread and broke it apart.
“That’s nothing. What’s kept you away?”
“Long story.” Amanda grimaced and shoved the bread in her mouth.
“Might help to talk about it.”
She swallowed. “If you must know, my boyfriend of five years dumped me two years ago on Christmas Eve in front of all my family and friends.”
“Ouch.”
“Tell me about it.” She picked up her glass and swung it up in the air. “Then I get a text tonight telling me to check my Facebook, and guess what?” she asked, her voice rising. She didn’t wait for Tate to respond. “The bastard’s getting married!” She slammed her glass down. “Freakin’ engaged.”
“Is it really the end of the world?” Tate motioned for the waiter to bring Amanda a glass of water.
“Clearly you’ve never been in a relationship.”
“You just said you were happy here.”
“I am.”
“Are you still in love with him?”
“No.” She shook her head. “He might have broken up with me, but I realized we really weren’t meant to be. It’s just . . .”
“Just what?”
Amanda stared at Tate. Why was he so interested in her love life? “I guess I don’t understand why Brad gets to have his happy ending before me. Two years ago he didn’t want it.” Her eyes watered. This time she couldn’t hide the evidence as one tear slid down her cheek. “At least not with me.”
Tate grabbed a napkin from the table dispenser and handed it to Amanda. “Let’s turn this around.”
“How?” She sniffed, dabbing her eyes.
“Okay, here’s how I see it. Your sister is radiantly pregnant and about to pop out your mother’s first grandchild. Is your brother in a relationship?”
“Yes, with my best friend from high school.”
“I see. It’s all making sense. There you will be at Christmas dinner, sandwiched between both couples. You have a great career and some would say a pretty good life here down south, but the humiliation of what happened with Brad will be the unspoken elephant in the room all weekend. Am I painting an accurate picture?”
With each stroke of his verbal brush, he certainly was. “I think you should order your dinner to go,” she said icily. It had obviously been a bad idea to share her love life with Tate.
“I think I can help-no, I know I can help you.”
“Help me? How?”
“If you brought a new man home, it would show everyone that you’ve moved on.”
“Maybe, but it’s not like I can rent one.” She thought for a second-could she?
“No need.” Tate reached for his drink and took a sip. “You can take me-free of charge.”
Amanda studied Tate. Was she hearing things?
“Take me home with you and introduce me as your boyfriend. I’ll fill that seat at Christmas dinner this year.”
“I was kidding with the bartender.” Amanda scoffed. The idea of bringing home a handsome boyfriend was intriguing. It would prove to everyone she was over Brad and past the humiliating breakup. But this was Tate. Handsome, yes. Her boyfriend? She didn’t think so. He rattled her on most days. They’d never pull it off.
