Available Now: Fated Desires by Becky Flade

Join us for FATED WEEK

This week, our Becky Flade is releasing each book in her fabulous Fated Series.

Monday, we featured Fated Souls, #1.

Wed 9 Oct - Fated Hearts, #2.

Today - Fated Desires, #3.

All books will remain at that price through the weekend. No better time to grab a full series for just $2.97!

FATED DESIRES
The Fated Series, #3
Becky Flade

BUY HERE

$3.99

99c/p through Sunday, 13 October

Jenna Gavin is searching for a fresh start, but more importantly, balance. Her heart, and perhaps the hands of fate, has led her and her young son to Trappers' Cove, Minnesota. Settling in the small, quirky town, she's not in the market for a casual relationship yet finds herself in one with the young widower next door.

Former shortstop, Gabriel Foxx, is drawn to his difficult new neighbor. The more the prickly divorcee attempts to keep him at arm's length, the more determined he is to break down her walls. He can't avoid the passion she inspires but he won't allow himself to feel more.

When friendship grows complicated by stronger emotions and mutual desire, it just isn't enough. Will love be worth the risk?

• • •

Gabriel accepted the two frozen margaritas the nearly naked waiter offered and set them on a small, glass table. Drops of water slid down the sides of the glasses. Even condensation was lazy here. The sun was warm, and the surf crashed against the beach only yards away from his toes. The scent of suntan lotion infused the air with coconut.

“Hmm,” he murmured. He loved Cancun.

“You always choose this memory,” Cass said.

He squinted at his wife. Her bikini strained the bounds of propriety and desire tugged at him, swirling through a flash of pride she was his. He knew other men stared at his wife, as she knew other women stared at him. They laughed about it, secure in their mutual affection.

“It’s my favorite.”

“You know this is only a recollection of a moment in time.”

“Stop trying to ruin this for me. Sip your margarita, drip the condensation on my stomach, and I’ll chase you to the water’s edge, okay?”

“Sorry, handsome, not going to happen. It’s time for you to wake up.”

“Do you know how much snow is out there?”

She smiled at him. The expression that had once lit him from inside instead caused an ache, a bereft pain like he’d lost a part of himself. Melancholy didn’t belong in this memory, damn it. He hated it when she screwed with his dreams.

She laughed this time—a treasured sound he’d never again hear while awake. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. She looked different. Not like she did on the beach in Cancun. But closer to the age she was when she…when she left him.

“I have to wake up, don’t I?”

“Always, my love. But today, your future waits for you.”

Gabriel Foxx’s arm shot out to silence the bleating alarm. He rubbed sore eye sockets with the heels of his hands; they were gritty, as though the beach he’d dreamt of had thrown sand in his face. When he dropped his hands, sunlight bounced off his wedding band. He sighed while rubbing it with the pad of his thumb in a familiar habit. He should take it off. But he couldn’t bring himself to remove the ring, even though he knew how far away its delicate mate rested.

He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stretched. He was too sore for his age. The inches upon inches of frozen precipitation had caused his knee to ache for days now. He rubbed the offending joint, cursing one bad slide into home base as he did each morning. He had no reason to hide his nakedness; he lived alone despite his mother’s constant nagging to hire a live-in housekeeper. She couldn’t understand that between the cleaning woman that came by twice a week, the groundskeeper’s crew, the team working his crops, and the handful of reliable friends Gabriel had made in Trappers’ Cove, he was far from lonely.

After relieving himself and brushing his teeth, he wandered through the house, aiming for the kitchen. Second only to his home gym, this was his favorite room. The entire outside wall was enclosed in specially treated glass. He had an amazing view of the forest that buffeted his land, and he could just make out the edges of farmland he’d cleared for his crop. He stood in his kitchen, his back against the island, admiring his largesse as he swallowed down the first blessed hit of caffeine with a silent salute to the creator of the timing mechanism on his coffee pot. It may be cold outside, but the inside was cozy, the coffee was hot, and the snow dazzled. The view reminded him of a scene from an old Bing Crosby movie.

Gabe exchanged coffee for a cold bottle of water and headed to his gym. He preferred to start his days with a workout and a swim before he showered. He found the exercise particularly cathartic following one of his special “dreams.” When he got to the basement, he threw on a pair of shorts; he had no reason to cover himself, but he wasn’t comfortable lifting weights bare-assed. By the third rep of thirty deadlifts, he had worked up a sweat and put the visit from Cassidy behind him.

• • •

Becky has been writing stories since kindergarten. But it wasn’t until she found her very own knight in slightly tarnished armor that she took the leap in to publishing. And hasn’t looked back once. In addition to being a wife, mother and grandmother, she works as a legal professional when she’s not writing, reading or dancing. And Becky’s proud to tell people she’s making her own dreams come true one happily ever after at a time.

Find Becky Online:

Website - http://www.beckyfladeauthor.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/BeckyFlade
Twitter - https://twitter.com/beckyflade
Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/Becky-Flade/e/B00BPAP2AC
Goodreads - http://www.goodreads.com/Becky_Flade
Tirgearr Publishing - http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Flade_Becky

Available Now: Fated Hearts by Becky Flade

Join us for FATED WEEK

This week, our Becky Flade is releasing each book in her fabulous Fated Series.

Monday, we feature Fated Souls, #1.

Today - Fated Hearts, #2.

Friday - Fated Desires, #3.

Books #3 is still on preorder for just 99c/p, and all books will remain at that price through the weekend. No better time to grab a full series for just $2.97!

FATED HEARTS
The Fated Series, #2
Becky Flade

BUY HERE

$3.99

99c/p through Sunday, 13 October

Psychiatrist Henley Elliott fled her quiet life in Cleveland for a gypsy lifestyle, trying to stay one step ahead of her painful memories. When she breaks down in quirky little Trappers' Cove, Minnesota, she meets Sheriff Carter McAlister - a man healing from his own share of hidden heartbreaks.

At the request of a friend, Carter offers Henley a job to help her get back on her feet . . . but soon he can't resist trying to sweep the intriguing woman off them. Breaking through her carefully built shell proves to be a near-impossible task, and to make matters worse, a dangerous new presence in the Cove seems to be targeting Henley. They must learn to trust in each other in order to keep her safe.

Can Henley and Carter leave their secrets and scars in the past to get a second chance at happily ever after?

• • •

“Come on, baby. You can do it.” Henley Elliott petted the dash of her twenty-year-old Grand Prix and coaxed it over the hill. She loved the old green car, her first and only since getting her driver’s license her senior year of high school, but it was on its last leg, and Henley knew it. As the car chugged over the peak, she took her foot off the gas and coasted down the other side. She enjoyed the speed, and the view as the valley opened.

She didn’t blame the car for wanting to quit. She was tired too. She was exhausted from constantly running, always looking over her shoulder, jumping from town to town. She hoped she’d gone far enough to be safe. She had almost convinced herself she would be, that it would be okay to settle for a few weeks in the next town. She’d done preliminary research online at a public-access computer in the library a few miles back. Though a small and rural community, the next town appeared metropolitan enough to provide lodging and work for a while. She had too much dust on her shoes and needed to call somewhere home. Trappers’ Cove was as good a place as any.

As gravity pulled the limping car downhill, farms gave way to a residential area that must’ve bordered the town proper. The houses, small and large alike, were old but well maintained; they showed tradition, respect, and pride. Henley glanced at her dashboard clock—it was noon on a Wednesday in late April. Kids were in school, but she imagined later they would play in their yards and ride bikes in the street. Young women chatted over fences as they hung laundry on clotheslines. It resembled a scene out of a television show from her childhood or the Lifetime movie she’d caught in a motel last month. Henley smiled. It was charming. She loved it.

Her smile faded as the road leveled, and her car slowed.

“No, no, no, baby, just a little bit farther,” she pled. She pulled the car off the side of the road in time for it to roll to a stop, shudder, cough, and die. She laid her forehead against the steering wheel and sighed. She didn’t have much money and feared the car needed massive repairs. It was a miracle her baby had made it this far. Trappers’ Cove would be home for the next little bit—once she got there. Her immediate problem was getting herself into the main part of town, followed closely by locating a mechanic who would tow the vehicle in with only the promise of payment. Then she’d worry about securing lodging and employment. Henley grabbed her purse and the backpack she kept filled with a couple days’ worth of necessities, locked the Pontiac loaded with the rest of her meager belongings, and began walking west.

Late April in Minnesota wasn’t exactly balmy, so she’d dressed that morning in jeans and a long-sleeved tee. Always practical, Henley had also wrapped a sweatshirt around her waist in case she needed it. But after a few miles of walking in the afternoon sun, she began to perspire. Her hair clung to the back of her neck, and her shirt grew clammy. With practiced skill, she pulled the long, brown locks into a sloppy bun and secured the knot with a scrunchie she kept on her wrist. She pushed the sleeves up to her elbows and nudged her sunglasses higher on the bridge of her nose.

She heard the truck approach. It came around the bend in the road and into view, its appearance as dilapidated as it sounded. She kept her gaze on the horizon, but the truck slowed to a stop parallel to her regardless. She expected to see a grizzly old farmer behind the wheel, his teeth yellowed from tobacco, dressed in flannel and suspenders. She knew it was a snobby presumption, but she’d seen more than a few on her travels, and they drove similar trucks. Instead, the man behind the wheel of the once-blue jalopy appeared to be close to forty, and he was pretty.

She doubted he’d appreciate the description; in her experience, not many men would, but it was the first word that came to Henley’s mind. His dark brown hair needed a cut, the ends curling around his ears and nape. He had blue eyes framed in thick, black lashes, a day’s worth of stubble, though it wasn’t yet three o’clock, and a cleft chin. His full bottom lip curved seductively as he smiled at her in an amused but condescending fashion that suggested women tended to stare and he thought it funny. She realized her mouth hung open and snapped it shut. She tucked her hands in her back pockets. She wasn’t sure what else to do with them, but the move thrust her ample breasts forward, and the pretty man’s smile widened exponentially.

Sweet baby Jesus, some things in life aren’t just.

“Hi. Can I help you?”

“My car broke down. About three, maybe three and a half miles back.” Okay, she sounded like a functional human being. “I’m going to Trappers’ Cove.”

“Well, you’re heading the right way.” His smile warmed. “I’d be glad to give you a lift. My name is Carter. Carter McAlister.”

“I’m okay walking, but thanks.”

“Sure. I get it. Not safe, accepting rides from strangers.” He shrugged, but his eyes twinkled. “It’s not really safe offering a ride to a stranger. These days.” He creased his forehead in an exaggerated expression of suspicion. “Are you a crazed ax murderer?”

Henley tilted her head and considered him. “Recently reformed. I’ve adopted my own version of AA’s twelve-step program. You’d probably be okay.”

She enjoyed the full, throaty sound of his surprised laughter. He didn’t speak like a Midwesterner, yet she couldn’t place his distinctive accent. Her pulse thrummed in a delicious rhythm she hadn’t felt in a long time. He was probably harmless. But a frisson of sexual awareness and “probably harmless” weren’t good enough reasons to override basic caution.

“For both our sakes, I think I’ll walk. But thanks again.”

• • •

Becky has been writing stories since kindergarten. But it wasn’t until she found her very own knight in slightly tarnished armor that she took the leap in to publishing. And hasn’t looked back once. In addition to being a wife, mother and grandmother, she works as a legal professional when she’s not writing, reading or dancing. And Becky’s proud to tell people she’s making her own dreams come true one happily ever after at a time.

Find Becky Online:

Website - http://www.beckyfladeauthor.com

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/BeckyFlade

Twitter - https://twitter.com/beckyflade

Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/Becky-Flade/e/B00BPAP2AC

Goodreads - http://www.goodreads.com/Becky_Flade

Tirgearr Publishing - http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Flade_Becky

Available Now: Fated Souls by Becky Flade

Join us for FATED WEEK

This week, our Becky Flade is releasing each book in her fabulous Fated Series.

Today, we feature Fated Souls, #1.

Wed 9 Oct - Fated Hearts, #2

Friday - Fated Desires, #3

Books #2 and #3 are on preorder for just 99c/p, and all books will remain at that price through the weekend. No better time to grab a full series for just $2.97!

FATED SOULS
The Fated Series, #1
Becky Flade

BUY HERE

$3.99

99c/p through Sunday, 13 October

Shamed investigative journalist turned tabloid scribe Maggie O’Connell convinces her editor to let her go to Minnesota to research alleged werewolf sightings. Her first night in the woods, she gets trapped in an old sleeping bag, unintentionally attracts the attention of a bear, and is saved by the most unlikely of heroes: the very wolf she had come to investigate!

When she meets horse rancher Aidan Gael in the town market days later, she recognizes his eyes as those belonging to her champion.

Aidan tries desperately to avoid her; he both fears Maggie and fears for her. Neither man nor beast can resist her curious mind and courageous heart. One kiss threatens to break Aidan’s tenuous self-control but furthers Maggie’s resolve.

Danger lurks at every turn. The curse Aidan fights to keep secret is only one of the obstacles that will test the strength of their bond. Together they will navigate the violence of both nature and of man in pursuit of their destiny.

• • •

The forest settled around her as the darkness deepened, and Maggie felt a sense of peace wash over her. Small, nocturnal animals went about their business as they became comfortable with her presence in their home. She’d always been comfortable with solitude and silence, two things that made tasks like this one pleasurable instead of a chore, and Maggie quickly lost track of time. Eventually, the sounds around her changed. The ambient noises of the small creatures moving through the brush hushed to a near whisper. The sudden, eerie, silence caught Maggie’s attention, and she listened closely for some indication of what had caused the change. Moments passed before she heard what had quieted the forest. Something large was lumbering through the trees. With an economy of motion, Maggie pulled out her camera and checked her speed and flash.

She saw the fur first, dark, nearly black in the muted moonlight. But it seemed too far above her line of sight to be a wolf. And the townspeople had said that the wolf was gray, not dark. Fear trickled up the back of her neck as the furry blur moved closer and became larger. It didn’t take long for the dark form to pass clearly into Maggie’s line of vision. A bear. Panic welled deep in her throat; she prayed the bear had neither seen her nor caught her scent. She moved her hand slowly toward her pack, toward her gun, when her elbow knocked over the Thermos of coffee. Its roll into the leaves sounded to Maggie like a cacophony of drums, and as she watched, horrified, the bear turned his head toward her. Forgetting to move stealthily, she scrambled for her gun with one hand and fought with the zipper on her sleeping bag with the other.

She cursed and prayed as she tugged at the sleeping bag, but the zipper didn’t budge. The bear advanced on her. She realized he wasn’t fully grown yet, but from her seated position on the forest floor, he looked huge. She raised the gun with trembling hands, afraid she’d only enrage the animal in her attempt to protect herself—but perhaps since he wasn’t fully grown, she might be able to inflict enough pain to scare him away. At least long enough to get this damn sleeping bag off and get to her car. Her hand steadied as she took aim, waiting for the bear to get close enough for the gun to be effective but also close enough to hurt her with one well-placed swipe of his massive paws.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered as her finger flexed on the trigger. Without warning, a gray blur streaked into her path, and Maggie instinctively lowered the nose of the gun. A wolf had placed itself between her and the bear. He growled low and threateningly at the bear. The bear grumbled in a loud, grumpy tone. The wolf continued to growl, slowly pushing the bear back until, finally, the bear turned and disappeared back into the night. Though the entire episode had taken only minutes, for Maggie, time had slowed. Sweat puddled in the small of her back, and her mouth tasted like her palm often smelled after gripping copper pennies for too long.

The wolf was magnificent. His fur was a rich, dark gray. He was taller than any wolves she’d seen at the zoo, and the breadth of his shoulders was impressive. She didn’t wonder at the bear’s decision to find his meal elsewhere but sensed the wolf posed her no threat. Instead, she felt protected.

The wolf turned to her then, his head cocked as though asking a silent question. She had a crazy urge to explain what she was doing in the forest stuck in her ancient sleeping bag. But Maggie gasped instead as she looked into his moss-green eyes—eyes that possessed a breathtaking clarity and intelligence. Eyes that assessed her in an entirely too human manner, and, unless she was sorely mistaken, eyes filled with derision. He seemed to look her over dismissively before ambling into the bushes. She heard him settling down a few yards from her, out of sight but not out of reach. She imagined him preparing his bed much as her best friend’s dog did. Circling a favored spot over and over, primping it with the front paws before dropping down to rest. She wondered how long he’d stay there and suspected he’d be there as long as she was. That he’d appointed himself guardian of the woman foolish enough to venture into a bear’s domain.

Maggie knew her thoughts fantastical, wondered if they were the aftereffects of the terror and adrenaline that had left as quickly as they had surfaced. She wondered why she didn’t call it a night—hell, call it a trip, and just go home. But she knew that the wolf she’d heard so many stories of, the wolf she was here to write about, was the brave animal that had just faced off against a black bear and was, even now, nearby. She planned to be there come dawn to see if those moss green eyes looked any different, staring out at her from the face of a man.

“Shit!” Maggie swore as she shoved the gun back into her pack and picked up her forgotten camera. “Goddamn it! I can’t believe I didn’t get one single picture. Not one.” She heard what she could only describe as a soft, breathy chuckle from the area where she sensed the wolf had settled and, without thinking, furiously whispered back, “Go ahead and laugh, I’ll still be here at dawn, camera-ready.”

The forest slowly came back to life as Maggie calmed herself the only way she knew how. By writing. With quick strokes, she recalled in print the scene as it had unfolded before her. The absolute terror of watching the bear approach and waiting until he was close enough to hurt her before taking aim. The wolf leaping into the line of fire, both hers and the bear’s, then forcing back the hungry beast in a display of superiority. Even what she told herself she’d imagined seeing reflected in the canine’s eyes and the huff of breath she’d convinced herself was a chuckle.

The adrenaline-fueled writing slowed, and when she scribbled the last word, a weariness swept over Maggie. Before long, she was sound asleep, bundled into the threadbare sleeping bag that had nearly cost her life.

• • •

Becky has been writing stories since kindergarten. But it wasn’t until she found her very own knight in slightly tarnished armor that she took the leap in to publishing. And hasn’t looked back once. In addition to being a wife, mother and grandmother, she works as a legal professional when she’s not writing, reading or dancing. And Becky’s proud to tell people she’s making her own dreams come true one happily ever after at a time.

Find Becky Online:

Website - http://www.beckyfladeauthor.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/BeckyFlade
Twitter - https://twitter.com/beckyflade
Amazon - https://www.amazon.com/Becky-Flade/e/B00BPAP2AC
Goodreads - http://www.goodreads.com/Becky_Flade
Tirgearr Publishing - http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Flade_Becky

THANK YOU to everyone who downloaded these books while on #KU / #KindleUnlimited. Your support and page reads are much appreciated.

These books are now available platform-wide:

LAKE OF THE DEAD
A Winston Radhauser Mystery, #5
Susan Clayton-Goldner
www.tirpub.com/scgoldner

When Parker Collins goes missing, girlfriend, Rishima, files a missing person’s report, adamant something is wrong. Radhauser agrees to investigate, soon discovering something doesn't sit right with him. Elderly neighbor, Homer "Sully" Sullivan, finds a body floating in the lake near his cottage. Could it be the missing student? Will this missing person’s case become a murder investigation?

THE ILLUSIONS IN BETWEEN
The Last Wizard, #3
JM Robison
www.tirpub.com/jmrobison

Still hunted by the church, Zadicayn has remained in hiding with his family. But rumors of his location finally reach the Illuminati, a secret underground society of Black Magicians. Wanting his magic for themselves, the Illuminati lure Zadicayn to Rome where the last wizard is forced to fight, not only for his life and his family, but also for the world. Because his next death will be his last.




THE MOMENT OF TRUTH
The Rowanbrae Series, #1
Joan Fleming
www.tirpub.com/jfleming

Local teacher and lady golf captain, Mandy Campbell strives for equal status in a male-dominated club. Despite their rivalry, she becomes attracted to gents' captain, Gavin Simpson, but does he return her affection? Troubles increase with her mother's drinking, and when a student's mother threatens legal action against the school. Will Mandy have to leave Rowanbrae to find the peace she craves?

UNSPOKEN
Dianne Noble - Author
www.tirpub.com/dnoble

After taking a room in Ruth's dilapidated Sri Lankan guesthouse, Sarah Latimer becomes aware of the brutality her friend suffers at the hands of her husband. Sarah decides to help, ignorant of the dark secrets in her own life. Receiving devastating news about her son, Tom, Sarah considers flying home, but a shocking act of violence eclipses everything and she finds herself driven to take action.



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Available Now: Sweet Redemption by Olivia Peters

SWEET REDEMPTION
Twist of Fate Series, #1
Olivia Peters

$4.99

BUY HERE

99c/p through Sunday 7 July

Brooklyn

Breaking off my marriage of convenience to start a smoldering affair turns my world upside down. Trevor was supposed to be worth it. He nearly made me spontaneously combust in bed while showing me a love I never thought possible outside of it.

Except it was all a lie. Happily ever after with a man who betrayed me? Not a chance.

Trevor

I planned to destroy Brooklyn because someone had to pay for the sins of her father. Instead, her touch healed everything that was broken inside me, and I fell hopelessly in love with my enemy’s daughter.

Brooklyn thinks she can end us, but I’m not spending another day without her by my side. Give up on love? Never, even if it kills me.

• • •

Trevor

Always knowing I’d face off with Arch Winslow didn’t truly prepare me for a confrontation with him.

His gaze circles the sprawling, expensively decorated office, focusing on anything but me. He shows the power he wields through arrogant displays of wealth and authority and hatred boils in my gut until it threatens to consume me.

Everything from the Parnian desk to the van Gogh artwork to the Persian rugs announce to all who pass through the monochromatic corner office that Arch is an important man who can have the finer things in life. If this is how his office is decorated, I can only imagine his penthouse.

His body language screams confrontation, making it clear he never wanted to see me again. Yet here I am, a common plebeian in his sacred kingdom. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting from me.”

How can he look me in the eye and say that? “Restitution.”

Arch stands behind his imposing desk while I sit before it, a power play if I’ve ever experienced one. Despite our massive class difference, or perhaps because of it, he’s uneasy, at least a little bit, which inflates my confidence.

“It’s been years—” Arch starts.

“And I can see you’ve done a fine job moving on, sir. Unfortunately, my family hasn’t had that luxury.” He bristles at the interruption and weaker men likely cower in his presence while defaulting to saying, ‘yes boss.’

My eyes skirt to the photographs of Arch shaking hands with the who’s who of New York City and it’s clear he’s earned his place among the elite on the back of my family.

Arch sighs. “Look, I paid your mother a fair market price, which was more than reasonable given the circumstances.” A vein in his jaw tics, another hint that he isn’t over the betrayal from the past either.

“Fair market price?” Indignation has me half-rising to my feet and ready to pummel him senseless. Years of practice reining in my natural instincts allows me to breathe through the red haze consuming my vision. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Arch makes a show of checking his Patek Philippe watch worth more than my house. “You showed up unannounced, and I made time for you, son, despite not having any to spare.”

My teeth grit against the familiarity of the endearment. When I was still knee-high to a grasshopper, Arch could have called me son, but not now. Not after he took my father away from me and then destroyed what was left of my broken family.

My eyes narrow, but Arch holds up a hand. “If you came for money, you won’t be leaving with any. If you came for an apology, remember it was your father who should have apologized to me. I’ve been more than generous, but my patience has run out.”

I’m not looking for a handout, only justice. Arch screwed my family over at our weakest and most vulnerable, an unforgivable act. As a child, I couldn’t do a damn thing. Now, though, I can make it right. He can make it right so my kid brother, Brandon, doesn’t repeat my childhood.

• • •

Olivia Peters is a Canadian girl who works as an executive ghostwriter by day and a romance novelist by night. While she has never mixed up her two roles, she sometimes thinks about it just to inject some fun into the boardroom.

She writes unapologetically about hot, dirty talking alpha men and the strong, sexy women who bring them to their knees. Her writing style is accessible with stories readers can relate to and characters they can get emotionally invested in.

Olivia’s erotic scenes will misfire your synapses. Don’t believe us? One of her friends forgot how to use her microwave after reading Olivia’s debut novel, Twist of Fate. Be warned that if you proceed, your Kindle may set on fire.

She is a country girl and spends as much time as possible at her lakeside cottage dreaming up her next story. When she’s not writing, she’s outside doing something active, cooking up a storm in her cluttered kitchen, or spending time with her husband, James, and their boxer, Buster.

Olivia is also a lifestyle blogger, sharing her passion for health and wellness with her followers. She is most active on Instagram, so head over and say hello—Olivia responds to every message she receives and would love to hear from you.


Find Olivia Online

Website - http://www.opwrites.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/oliviapetersbooks
Twitter - https://twitter.com/opwrites
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/86318912-olivia-peters
Bookbub - https://www.bookbub.com/profile/1183283011
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/opwrites
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.ca/opwrites
Tirgearr Publshing - http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Peters_Olivia

Available Now: Bittersweet Alliance by Kathleen Rowland

BITTERSWEET ALLIANCE
Donahue Cousins series, #3
Kathleen Rowland

$3.99

BUY HERE

99c/p thru Sunday, 30 June

Free on Kindle Unlimited

Will a snap decision change their lives forever?

Bizarre kidnappings stun the Big Island of Hawaii, pulling Danker Donahue back into the game and forcing him to partner with Jolene Kualoha, the woman who left him seven years ago when his DNA showed up in paternity lawsuit. The prejudice-motivated hate crimes are the wildest anyone has ever seen. Victims are being poisoned then released once the ransoms are paid, many losing their lives.

In the shadow of Jolene's success as a helicopter pilot, a troubled woman develops a fixation on Jolene and imitates her appearance. Matters turn dark when the copycat is shot dead. Was Jolene the target? Threats mount when she barely survives an accident after her brake cables are severed.

When these crimes threaten her sanity, Jolene is forced to trust the one person she thought she’d lost forever, Danker. Instantly, sparks fly between them, and as much as she wants to rekindle their relationship, she must protect her heart.

An old enemy, Seamus McGinn, breaks out of a maximum-security prison and invites Danker to a meet-up. Surprisingly, the kidnapper joins forces with McGinn along with his sick fans. McGinn trumpets his ‘murders by ice pick’, and it’s up to Danker to stop him. The whole island is on edge with a live feed from the maniac’s website.

In a stolen moment, Jolene shows him hope, and he makes a snap decision that will change their lives forever. Will he make it back to her?

• • •

Seven years since their breakup, Jolene Kualoha spotted Danker Donahue, ambling from the parking lot toward the store. She recognized him by his height and long gait. Wind from the north ruffled his hair and brought a bone-biting chill to her heart. Nuts, here he was, ducking his head to miss the bell overhead. It tinkled, and a strange twisting sensation hit her in the stomach.

This happened at the Kalua-Kona Food Emporium on a Sunday morning in July. She stared from where she stood near the avocados. His dangerous edge drew her in, but she turned her back to him. Her body reverberated like when her cell phone was on vibrate in her pocket. Stunned with minor electric shock, she froze. Maybe he wouldn’t see her. Wouldn’t recognize the back of her head or the once familiar shape of her ass.
Was someone waiting for him in the parking lot? Someone like Louella, the baby’s momma who’d summoned him for an immediate DNA test? For a split second, she craned her head around but didn’t see her with him.

She and Danker were a couple when the test confirmed his fatherhood. Her heart ached at the memory. Love hurt, but that wasn’t all. Loneliness hurt. Losing someone hurt. Decision-making hurt when you force yourself to do the right thing.

She’d pulled away, giving him space to work on his previous relationship for the sake of their child. The most shameful thing a woman can do is take parents away from a baby, and this began her year of stubborn steadfastness.

I did the breakup rituals. Got the dramatic haircut. Engraved a piece of jewelry he got me with a new message. Deleted the photos that made me cry.

To have been his woman was like living where the air flowered with jasmine, and the weather day after day was flawless, but the forecast was a hurricane.

Older didn’t mean wiser. All this time she’d dreaded running into him, sometimes dressing in expectation of it. If she did see him again, she wanted to look good. Today she looked like crap, but what did it matter? His reason for being on the Big Island had nothing to do with her, not in a personal way. Tomorrow they’d meet at the FBI field office to collaborate on a serial kidnapping case. She’d wear a sleeveless linen dress, open-toed pumps, and bring the accordion file full of notes and newspaper clippings she’d gathered.

The perpetrator targeted wealthy Hawaiians with social capital, the kind of people seen on television or featured in newspapers when they donated money to charities. The latest missing person, Pua Iona, owned Iona Hawaiian Rugs and was an acquaintance of hers. Not that they shared the same social strata, but they’d volunteered together at an artisans’ market to boost Hawaiian crafts. After Pua went missing and fit the criminal’s modus operandi, Mayor Billy Kim, frustrated with police progress, contacted Jolene’s former boss from California, FBI Agent Gary Guhleman, cowboyish in dress but wise in judgement.

Guhleman didn’t need to tell her Hawaiians resisted outside intrusions. “You know everyone,” he’d said. “Witnesses will share what they know.” The agent and his wife had retired, rather semi-retired, here in Kona. Soon after she and Guhleman had spoken, he called in Danker Donahue to consult. “You remember him, right?”

“Gosh, let me think.” She and Danker went hot and heavy after the Long Beach case that ended with the arrest of mobster Seamus McGinn.

Just then Danker spoke to someone with his rich Midwestern drawl, typical of California transplants. It was the first time she’d heard his voice in seven years after hearing it every day for ten months. She hardened like a turtle on a rock except for a slight turn of her head. He removed an earbud from his right ear and placed it in a protective case.

His longer dark hair, broad shoulders, and square jaw evoked an intense mix of emotions. A car crash of desire. There was nothing more frightening than desiring a freefall. It wasn’t just the sex. Her heart had burst with happiness making her believe love conquers all. It hadn’t.

In profile, the skin of his face was not as smooth. His craggier appearance reflected who he was, a loner with little concern about his well-being. The work he’d chosen reinforced his inclination toward secretive and wary, trusting few people.

She sighed at his beautiful elegance. So beautiful in a manly way, and he was once hers.

She’d let him go.

No, she’d pushed him away and cut all ties. The right thing to do was the hardest thing. She expected Danker to be different, not just older but still having an immensely handsome face. Worst case, with the risks he took, she expected he’d be dead. What she saw was what she’d hoped for. Alive. Succeeding as a top investigator called on by the FBI. She also hoped he’d found happiness with the child he’d fathered.

• • •

Book Buyers Best finalist, Kathleen Rowland, is devoted to giving her readers fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with a sizzling love story sure to melt their hearts. Kathleen used to write computer programs but now writes novels.She grew up in Iowa, where she caught lightning bugs, ran barefoot, and raced her sailboat on Lake Okoboji. Kathleen now happily exists with her witty CPA husband, Gerry, in their 70’s poolside retreat in Southern California, where she adores time spent with visiting grandchildren, dogs, one bunny, and noisy neighbors. While proud of their five children who’ve flown the coop, she appreciates the luxury of time to write while listening to characters’ demanding voices in her head.

Find Kathleen Online:

Website - http://www.kathleenrowland.com
Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/kathleen.rowland.50
Twitter - https://twitter.com/RowlandKathleen
Blog - https://kathleenrowland.wordpress.com
Tirgearr Publishing - http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Rowland_Kathleen

Available Now: Bones by Ainsley Cole

BONES
Black Dove Security seies, #1
Ainsey Cole

$3.99

BUY HERE

99c/p through 7 April
FREE on Kindle Unlimited

Braedon “Bones” Roberts is used to getting his own way. As leader of Black Dove Security, he runs an efficient and often deadly team of operatives who specialize in keeping the rich and famous safe. There isn't a situation in the world he can’t tackle and come out on top of...until he meets Witty and smart Doctor Abigail Baker, the lead scientist who's tasked with discovering the cause of mass bleeding deaths in the Kenyan desert.

Abigail grinds on Bones’ nerves with her forthright honesty, but he can’t keep her out of his mind and his dirty fantasies, and before long, they're closing in on becoming more than colleagues in a dangerous realm.

When the local militia find out who Abigail is, the hunt is on, and the Black Dove Security team leap into action. Their primary goal is keeping Abigail on the move and away from the militia is going to be harder than they hoped.

Bones has a decision to make—keep Abigail in Kenya to find out what is causing the disease, or flee from the militia and protect her life.

Either way, he’s playing with fire, and at the center of it all, she's a woman he’d lay down his life for.

• • •

Inhaling, he closed the door, shutting off the sight of the women getting intimate. Following the hunkering man down the hallway of the hotel, he skipped a little, trying to keep up with him. “Hey, has Wolf told you anything?”

“No.”

“Do you know where we’re going?” The man didn’t answer, and Bones frowned, stepping up next to him, waiting for the elevator. Reaper didn’t look at him. “Is everyone else getting the VIP pick-up, too?”

“No.”

“Is it because I’m the boss?” Bones asked, chuckling, doing the belt up on his jeans.

Reaper turned his head, raising an eyebrow. “No, it’s because you’re the only one who won’t show up unless someone comes to get you.”

The doors to the elevator pinged and he stepped inside, leaving Bones on the landing.

“Not true. What about Queenie?” Bones stepped into the elevator, the doors slid closed behind them, and he looked at the big man.

“He’s already waiting in the car.”

Pushing his hands through his hair, Bones screwed his nose up. Damn the Greek for being on time for once.

The trip down the six floors was silent, the whir the only sound.

Heading out of the elevator, a dark Humvee waited at the front of the hotel for the pair.

It would be full of the rest of his team.

Ethan ‘Wolf’ Whitefeather.

Bastian ‘Apollo’ Phoenix.

Milo ‘Queenie’ Price.

They’d all be sitting in the vehicle, chuckling to each other, as he did the walk of shame. While they were all prone to their moments of passion with the fairer sex, Bones seemed to be the only one who hooked up with the wrong type of woman.

Usually, ones who liked to take off with his wallet.

Stepping out into the chilly air, he opened the door of the car.

Reaper took up his customary position in the front and Bones climbed into the back.

“Bones.”

Shifting his gaze to the driver, he nodded to the blond. The man's blue eyes flashed with amusement in the rear-view mirror.

“Apollo.”

The Humvee started off, taking them away from the hotel and the two women Bones had been with. Pity. He had been enjoying himself.

“So, what’s the mission?” he asked, turning his attention to the man by his side.

Wolf turned his head. Dark chocolate brown eyes staring at him.

Wolf handed him a folder, close to the thickness of his little finger.

Taking the folder, Bones looked at the cover. “Waterford Bio Medical? Who the hell are they?”

“They’re a small medical research company out of London,” Wolf explained. “We have to take three doctors into a small village and bring them back out. Alive.”

“Why just three?” Opening the folder, Bones flipped through the contents.

Documents of incidence. Infection reports. Photos of the victims. Group bios.

“They will only be there to seek out the incident of infection and report back to the WHO if they deem it necessary.”

Bones flipped over the bio sheets, coming face to face with a pair of doe brown eyes. “Oh, hello there, beautiful.”

“Doctor Abigail Baker. She is the one who is assigned to be the leader of the group, and the woman you have to deal with.” Wolf took the file and placed it on his lap. “Try to keep it in your pants.”

Bones acted offended, screwing his nose up at the man beside him. “Hey. When I am working, I happen to be a very professional man.”

“It’s only when you’re not working, you become an animal,” Queenie quipped, looking around Wolf to his boss. “How many did you leave back there?”

Bones’ face heated, and Reaper held up his hand, two fingers wiggling in the air.

“Only two? Wow. Why not more?”

“I have one dick and one mouth, Queenie. I can only do so much.”

The whole car erupted in laughter. Once it had died down, Bones tipped his head back, looking up at the roof lining of the vehicle. “So, when do we leave?”

“Now.”

Bones had a feeling it would have been the case. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have come and gotten him. He would have been left to have fun with the women and called later in the day. “My things packed?”

“Of course. Apollo saw to it,” Wolf replied.

“Thanks, Baz,” Bones said, earning a wink from the driver. They were more than team-mates. They were adopted into the same family as kids. Bastian was the only one who had a key to his house, knew how he lived. He would have only had to walk in a couple of feet and picked up the bag from the last mission and walk out. Bones was like that.

Didn’t even like to live in his own house. “And the gear?”

“Reaper’s already seen to it. It’s all waiting at the base.”

“Good.” The scenery flashed by, the vehicle’s occupants falling silent. “So, where we off to?”

No-one answered, and Bones turned his head. “Wolf?”

The Native American by his side blinked, turning his head, lips pursing. “Kenya.”

The pit of Bones’ stomach rebelled, and he gripped the handle on the car door. The scar which ran from the middle of his forehead, down around his right eye, ending at the corner of his mouth—itched. Burning as memories flashed through his brain.

“How much are they paying?”

“Waterford?”

“Yes,” Bones replied through clenched teeth. They wanted him to go halfway across the world. To a place which brought back bad memories. There’d want to be fucking good compensation.

“One million.”

One million.

After paying for the trip and equipment, flights and other costs—each member would pocket $150,000. A few days in Kenya to make more than what most people could in a year? He could deal with that if he had to. He’d gone to hell and back for less.

“One million to take a group of doctors to Kenya and back?”

“Yep.”

Bones’ eyebrows scrunched together as he looked out the window and the vehicle fell silent again.

Now he knew why Reaper hadn’t told him where they were going.

Everyone knew why Bones hated that country so much.

The scar on his face itched again, and he lifted his hand, rubbing at it.

Kenya.

One of the last places on earth he wanted to revisit.

But he had a company to run and a reputation to uphold. There wasn’t a place they wouldn’t go or a person they wouldn’t protect—for the right price.

Grinding his teeth together until his jaw ached, Bones’ day went from bad to worse.

He didn’t want to go to Africa.

• • •

Ainsley Cole lives in a tiny coal mining town in Australia. She lives with her soul-mate and the four little beings they made together. Writing since she was only 11, she has a few books under her belt under different names. In her spare time, (when not being a busy mummy) Ainsley likes to garden, play video games and marathon Marvel movies.

Find Ainsley Online:

Website - https://www.ainsleycole.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/Author-Ainsley-Cole-1943547795729141
Tirgearr Publishing - http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Cole_Ainsley

Available Now: Saving Maggie by Glenys O'Connell

Maggie is just the sort of person Detective Joshua Tyler hates the most. He’s been hounded by reporters and fake psychics for two years, since his emotionally disturbed wife disappeared. When he meets Maggie, he can’t help being attracted to her, but becomes distrustful when she claims to have a message from his wife.

Her ability incites a serial killer to play games with her; he sends her an invitation in a pink envelope every time he kills, daring her to find his victims. The killer believes Maggie is that one special person he’s been searching for—someone who can read his mind. And only her death can bind them together forever.

When the body of brutally murdered victim is identified as a reporter who wants to write a "Whatever Happened To..." piece about her, Maggie’s name jumps to the top of the suspect list.

How can she make Tyler believe her when he discovers her entire identity is a lie?

Will finding his wife prove once and for all that she’s who she claims to be, and innocent of murder?

And will he join her in a race against an experienced and determined killer if he’s to save her life?

• • •

The woman in the sexy little red convertible looked perky from behind. Her glossy long hair was pulled up in a careless pony tail and swayed from side to side like a cobra charmed by an Indian flute, as she bopped to the music from the car radio.

Even at a car's length away, the driver behind her thought this was the sort of hair a man could run his fingers through and grasp playfully… He wished now he was piloting his own expensive roadster, rather than the sedate brown sedan he'd rented especially for this trip. His own car was the sort that would impress the kind of girl who drove a bright red convertible with the top down on a windy spring day.

He imagined himself overtaking her, seeing her look over at him, her eyes widening in admiration as she took in his expensive ride and wealthy, groomed good looks.

Then she'd remember him and smile…

He gunned the accelerator, and with a disdainful purr the rental spurted forward, pulling alongside her. He glanced over, hoping to catch her eye. But she stared straight ahead, singing along to some mindless muzak and oblivious to his look of longing.

He didn't matter to her. She didn't remember. She didn't smile.

Irritated now, he jabbed the accelerator and zoomed past her. He knew that soon they'd meet again.

Then he'd refresh her memory.

* * *

Maggie Kendall was just leaving Fried Heaven, two cups of the café’s delicious coffee balanced in her hands, when a tall, dark-haired stranger pushed open the door so suddenly that it caught her and hot coffee sloshed wetly down the front of her white silk shirt.

“I am so sorry!” His handsome face flushed with embarrassment as he grabbed a wad of paper napkins from a dispenser on the nearest table and began to mop at the spill. His touch on her upper breasts was electric—it sizzled all the way down to her toes, leaving her breathless.

Brushing his hands away, she snapped, “It's okay, really, I'm fine. My office is just across the road and I can clean up there.”

The man snatched back his hand as he realised the inappropriate intimacy of his touch. Blushing, he jammed the offending hands into his suit pants pockets. “I—at least let me pay for your dry cleaning,” he stammered, but Maggie was already halfway out the door.

“It's nothing, don’t worry about it,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze. A second later, she was gone.

* * *

Josh Tyler blinked, staring as the door slammed behind her. He'd been intent on cleaning up the spilled coffee mess and had acted without thinking. Now his fingers telegraphed the sensation of the warm, soft femininity, and his embarrassment deepened. He hadn't felt this awkward since high school.

“Don't pay any attention to her,” a plump teenager behind the counter said. “That's Maggie Kendall, she's from the city.” She made the words sound like an accusation rather than a statement, and Tyler bit back a smile.

“Now, Alicia, Ms. Kendall's a nice enough woman and she's worked wonders with The Gazette since she bought out old Dan Warrington,” an older woman sitting by the electronic till said in a warning voice.

“Yes, but she's strange. People say she sees things…like, a second sight.”

“Alicia! That's enough. Now, serve the gentleman and then get back into the kitchen and help Sam with the clean-up.”

Tyler wanted to ask more questions but was pretty sure the eagle-eyed cashier would slap him down, so he ordered coffee and a Danish to go, paid, and left the store.

Outside on the broad sidewalk, his eye was caught by the large sign on one of the offices across the road: The Woeful Creek Gazette. Maggie Kendall was an attractive woman, even if maybe a bit highly strung. But he'd no wish to get close to any member of the Press—and certainly not to someone with a reputation for 'seeing things'.

Reporters and psychics were, in his experience, about equal in the charlatan stakes.

• • •

Glenys O'Connell writes romantic suspense and comedy. She became interested in crime & criminal psychology when covering the crime beat as a journalist for a large daily newspaper. This led to a degree in psychology and qualifications as a counselor - but writing is her first love and she says romantic suspense satisfies her cravings for both romance and crime! She is also the author of two books on mental health issues, several childrens’ books, and is an award winning playwright. She was born in Lancashire, England, and has lived and worked in the UK, Ireland, and currently in rural Canada.

Find Glenys Online:

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/glenys.oconnell

Twitter - https://twitter.com/GlenysOConnell

Available now: Gumshoe Girl by Andi Ramos

GUMSHOE GIRL
Andi Ramos

$4.99

BUY HERE

(99c through Sunday, 3 June)

Sheagan O’Hare got more than she bargained for when her newly inherited detective agency lands its first case; a missing person, embezzlement, and murder. Sheagan’s out to prove she can hang with the pro's, despite the constant reminder of her amateur status from an annoyingly attractive FBI agent, Colin 'Mac' MacEvine, who’s forced himself into her life.

How does she feel when an old high school friend hopes to ignite a new romance?

Will she be able to discover if detective work and love can mingle before someone gets hurt?

• • •

Sheagan blinked back the sting in her eyes as sweat drizzled from her forehead. Her shoulders and forearms cried out as determination inched her body forward through the tin walls that framed her slender figure. The narrow shaft rendered her legs useless as they dragged behind her like dead weight. She made a vow to start working out as she approached her destination, the metal grate that looked down into the sweetheart suite of the Eliot Hotel.

She shimmied her binoculars out of her bag and clutched them in her sweaty palms as she readied herself to delve into the world of private investigating. The friction of her movements caused her mahogany mane to cling to all the surfaces of her temporary confinement. Perched behind the filigree frame, peering like a caged animal, she was a mere 20 feet from her target. Her target? The Rat Bastard, who up until this very moment she’d called boyfriend.

She wasn’t there to kill him, even though the thought had crossed her mind; no, she was there to catch him in the act. She suspected he had been cheating on her for some time, so proof would end her suspicion or the relationship. Spying on her significant other through an air-vent of a swanky hotel room was hardly a promising start to her so-called glamorous career as a private detective. But it snapped her back into the reality that her new chosen profession would often be messy and difficult.

She peered through the grate and envied the spacious room below, but her viewing angle was no good for the task at hand. She could feel the heat in her cheeks rise along with her anger as she scanned the room and soaked in the extravagance–the hardwood tables, the Italian marble fireplace, the opulent sheen of the fabric on the overstuffed furniture that glimmered in the soft candlelight. The Rat Bastard was not known to overindulge on frivolous expenses, unless it was on her dime. Thoughts of killing him resurfaced.

What is wrong with me? Why did I wait so long?

She immediately regretted the fleeting question. She knew why. The answer brought back the pain and significance of her father’s sudden death. He had been the only family she had left, and he was gone. All that was left behind was his detective agency. She had thought about giving it up, but she couldn’t; it was her only connection to him, to her family.

She closed her eyes briefly, realizing that now she was facing more loss–even if he was a lying, cheating Rat Bastard.

No! It’s better this way, stay focused.

She choked in a breath and turned her attention back to the room. His secret love nest was finished with soothing tones on the walls and thick, plush carpeting.

What is that on the end table?

Her gaze was drawn to the bottle label as it bobbed upside down in the melting ice. She sharpened the focus of her binoculars, and her eyes widened in recognition.

Her cheeks flushed. Cristal, she scoffed. Who is this Bimbo, anyway?

As if she had room to criticize this girl’s intelligence, when Sheagan was the one sweating her makeup off in a four-by-four-foot air-duct.

Yeah, who’s the stupid one?

She heard passionate sounds coming from the right of the room and recognized his tone. Leaning sideways, Sheagan pressed her face to the grate, but her limited view revealed only a portion of the bed and unable to make out major details, like faces.

Crap, I can’t see anything. Damn! She needed to get a better look

As she shifted her weight, the metal walls started to reverberate and Sheagan stifled a gasp, willing the rumbling to cease. Her breathing became labored as the musty air stole the aroma of the sweet perfume wafting up waft from the suite below. She stilled her movements and did the only thing she could think of… nothing. Nothing but stare at the heap of blankets and wait.

Come on, bimbo, come up for air. I know he doesn’t last that long.

Her discomfort increased as the noise from their passion became more intense.

Ugh, that’s it, I’ve had it!

She mashed her cheek and upper body against the grate.

I just need a peek to confirm.

She pressed harder, ogling the bed. Finally, she caught a tiny glimpse.

Just a little further.

She pushed and heard a chirring sound, then a scraping. She froze in place, but the grate gave way with a creaking groan and crashed to the ground. Time stood still as Sheagan realized there was nothing between her and the floor except air.

• • •

Andi Ramos grew up in central Massachusetts where she still lives today with her family, goat, and Boston Terriers. Her love for reading grew into a passion for writing. She dabbled with pen and paper for a long time and eventually stopped pushing her amusements aside and started developing those stories into novels. One of her favorite things to do is to hop into her motorhome with her family and write while traveling down the road as they journey to various destinations.

Find Andi Online:

Website - http://www.andiramos.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/andiramosauthor
Twitter - https://twitter.com/andiramosauthor
Blog - https://www.andiramos.com/blog
Tirgearr Publishing - http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Ramos_Andi

Available now: Her Only Option by Paula Martin

HER ONLY OPTION
Paula Martin

$4.99

BUY HERE

(99c through Sunday, 27 May)

Neve Dalton loves her job as a tour guide on a River Nile cruise ship as much as she values her independence. She isn’t ready to settle down with her Egyptian boyfriend, despite his repeated proposals and his father’s desire to see him married.

Nor is she ready to meet Ross McAllister, a compelling and fascinating archaeologist. She struggles against her growing attraction to him until she can no longer ignore what her heart is telling her.

When she starts receiving cryptic messages, and Ross’s work in the famous Valley of the Kings is threatened, Neve has to make a heart-breaking and life-changing decision which she feels is her only option.

Can they discover whose enmity is forcing them apart before it’s too late?

• • •

Neve Dalton smiled as she changed into her white bikini. Five hours of freedom, and she intended to spend at least four of them relaxing. And woe betide anyone who disturbed her.

Clutching a towel and a canvas bag with her sunscreen, e-reader, and bottle of water, she sprinted up three flights of curved stairs from her staff cabin to the sundeck of the Lady Nadia cruise ship.

The only person there was the barman, who was restocking the large fridges at the stern, and she nodded in satisfaction at the sight of the deserted decks of the cruise ships moored on each side of the Nadia. Although she loved her job, she always enjoyed this peaceful interlude between the departure of one tour group and the arrival of the next.

She chose a sun lounger near the rail, from where she could see across the deck of the neighbouring ship to her favourite view. The blue Nile and the white Theban hills on the far side of the river shimmered in Egypt’s furnace-like afternoon heat.

After daubing herself liberally with sunscreen, she adjusted the large parasol to give some protection from the burning sun, and opened her e-reader to catch up with the latest articles in the Journal of Egyptian Archaeology. Once she’d done that, she leaned back, relaxed, and closed her eyes.

Less than ten minutes later, conscious of something she couldn’t quite define, she half-opened one eye. A broad chest, partly hidden by an unbuttoned blue shirt, filled her line of vision.

Squinting against the brightness, she saw strong arms and well-formed hands, which curved over the top rail of the neighbouring Lady Amirah’s sundeck. Her gaze travelled down, taking in the chest with its smattering of dark hair, the curve of slim hips in well-fitting red swimming trunks, and long, muscular legs.

Mmm, rather nice.

‘Good afternoon,’ he said.

Embarrassed by her survey of his body, she looked up at his face. Even though he wore sunglasses, she knew he was staring at her.

‘Oh – hello.’ She sat upright and wished she could pull her large towel around her as a shield against his scrutiny.

He slid his sunglasses to the top of his head, flattening his thick, dark hair, and her breath hitched at the sight of his amazing blue eyes. They reminded her of the shimmering ultramarine water of the ship’s swimming pool. His tanned features were as impressive as his strong physique – broad forehead, high cheekbones, the slight indent of dimples in his cheeks, a wide mouth, and a finely chiselled jaw.

Some primeval response stirred inside her.

‘I was admiring your beautiful figure.’ His deep voice held the faint trace of a Scottish accent. ‘I hope you don’t object?’

A shaft of disappointment quenched her initial spark of interest. For some reason, she’d expected him to be different from the smooth-talking posers who sometimes tried to chat her up. Instead, it seemed he was simply another cruise ship Casanova who thought flattering words in a deep, honey-rich voice would make women fall at his feet.

Politeness to guests was rule number one, however, since he was on the Amirah, one of Nadia’s sister ships. Her professional persona surfaced. ‘Not at all.’ She kept her voice casual while giving what she hoped was her best I know your type and you don’t impress me one bit smile.

‘You look lonely,’ he said.

Since her coolness hadn’t put him off, she reached for the bottle of sunscreen from the small table next to her lounger. ‘I’m enjoying the solitude. It doesn’t happen very often.’ Maybe he’d take the hint from that.

He didn’t. ‘Where’s everyone else?’

‘If you mean the guests, they’ve gone to the airport. The next group is due to arrive about five o’clock.’

‘Ah, you’re staff, are you? What do you do? No, don’t tell me—’ His glance slid down her body again. ‘With a figure like yours, you have to be with the Health and Fitness Club.’

‘I’m a tour guide,’ she replied, with as much dignity as she could muster.

‘Oh, one of those.’

She bristled with indignation. Not just a cruise ship Casanova, but a rude one, too. ‘One of those? What’s that supposed to mean?’

He shrugged. ‘You hear them everywhere you go. Churning out half-baked facts from poorly written and often inaccurate guidebooks.’

Her indignation flared into annoyance. ‘And that’s what you think tour guides do?’

‘Most of them, yes.’

The man was insufferable. If she wasn’t so annoyed by his condescending dismissal, she’d tell him she held a degree in Egyptology. But he wasn’t worth the effort. Anyway, he’d probably make another derogatory comment in response.

‘And what do you do?’ she asked with sugar-coated politeness.

‘I’m an archaeologist.’

‘Oh, one of those.’

• • •

Paula Martin lives near Manchester in North West England and has two daughters and two grandsons. She had some early publishing success with four romance novels and several short stories, but then had a break from writing while she brought up a young family and also pursued her career as a history teacher for twenty-five years.

She returned to writing fiction after retiring from teaching, and is thrilled to have found publishing success again with her contemporary romances.

Apart from writing, she enjoys visiting new places and has travelled extensively in Britain and Ireland, mainland Europe, the Middle East, USA and Canada. Her other interests include musical theatre and tracing her family history.

Find Paula Online:

Website - http://paulamartinromances.webs.com

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/paulamartinromances

Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/RomancesbyPaulaMartin

Blog - http://paulamartinpotpourri.blogspot.co.uk

Blog - http://heroineswithhearts.blogspot.co.uk

Tirgearr Publishing - http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Martin_Paula