Friday, July 24, 2015

Delicious Deception

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Book Title: Delicious Deception (Tough Love, #3) 
Author: Tami Lund 
enre: Contemporary Romance Suspense 
Release Date: August 3, 2015 
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

Emily Kate Boudreaux runs a restaurant located on a bayou in Texas, because it’s what her family expects of her. She’d rather pursue her living as an artist. Then sexy chef Connor Rikeland walks into her life and turns it upside down. Soon, Emily Kate’s restaurant is a roaring success, she has time to paint to her heart’s content, there’s a hunky guy warming her bed, and she’s having visions of happily ever after.

Connor Rikeland is used to women throwing themselves at him, and he’s been known to use relationships as a bargaining chip in his climb up the ladder. He wants a culinary career in the spotlight—and Cajun cooking isn’t his ticket to fame even if Emily Kate is unlike anyone he’s ever met.

Not to mention Connor has a few secrets that have put him on the wrong side of her brother’s FBI case. When the pieces of just why Connor is hanging out in a backwoods town begin to surface, Emily Kate must decide what’s real, what’s a lie, and what’s worth risking her heart over. Because deception or not, life with Connor is delicious.

The restaurant had a strange vibe.
Just as Connor reached for the door, an older couple stormed out, complaining about jambalaya. Was the chef’s jambalaya not up to par tonight? That seemed like a dish a place called Louisiana Kitchen would have perfected.
The building was an old wooden structure with a covered porch wrapping around three sides. Ceiling fans lazily spun every few feet. They didn’t do much to ease the muggy, early summer air, but their real purpose was to keep mosquitoes at bay. The small lobby contained a hostess stand positioned to discourage patrons from seating themselves. Wooden benches lined the walls for waiting customers. Eclectic paintings and sculptures hung on the walls, all portraying some sort of Louisiana-esque theme. He studied an especially whimsical design of two crawfish that appeared to be holding hands—er—claws, until another unhappy couple who appeared to be in their forties walked into the lobby, chased by a frazzled woman with flour smudges on her face and curly blond hair attempting to escape the bun on the back of her head.
She had smooth, lightly tanned skin and looked as if she wore very little makeup. She was taller than average for a female, maybe five seven or eight, and most of that appeared to be legs. He had always had a thing for great legs.
Despite the smudges on her face, the snappy red and white sundress she wore was unsullied. Having worked in restaurants for most of his life, Connor immediately pegged her as some sort of manager. She’d probably been in the kitchen, sampling the chef’s dishes. Did the chef deliberately let her leave the kitchen looking like that, or was he so busy, he hadn’t noticed? Connor himself had experienced plenty of both types of days.
Except this restaurant didn’t look particularly busy. He could see into the dining room from his vantage point, and no more than half the picnic tables and booths were occupied.
In Detroit, Thursday evenings were often nearly as busy as Fridays. Yet another difference between this place and his home.
“Please, Mr. and Mrs. Henry, don’t be upset. I know you were looking forward to the pecan-encrusted trout. I promise, next time you come in, I’ll have a new chef. That will be one of the interview questions,” the blond pleaded with the unhappy customers as they paused in the lobby so Mrs. Henry could dig her keys out of her purse.
Pecan-encrusted trout? New chef?
Connor could do pecan-encrusted trout, assuming the kitchen had the ingredients on hand, of course. His interest was officially piqued. Not only in the hot blond, but in the situation that was becoming clearer. His mind spun a million miles a second: here was a way to hide out for a while, until it was safe for him to go back to Detroit and figure out
what the hell to do with the rest of his life.
It was crazy, but he had done crazier. It was risky ... Wait, no it wasn’t. This cozy, backwoods restaurant was not the sort of place his pursuers would ever dream of visiting.
His family had no clue what he was doing. Hell, he hadn’t even told them he was applying for the chef’s position at the casino. He hadn’t wanted to face their disappointment if he didn’t get it. As little as his family offered their praise, they were far too effervescent with their sympathy when things did not work out to his advantage.
It was perfect. It was ... “Uh, excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Henry.”
The blond and her unhappy customers all turned their heads to look in his direction.
He offered his most charming half smile. The one most women found irresistible. Mrs. Henry’s eyes glazed, but the blond narrowed hers as suspicion bloomed on her face. Of course, when he was charming women, they were not normally under duress at the time.
“I’m sorry I’m late, uh ...”
“Emily Kate, is this your new chef?” Mrs. Henry gave him a hopeful look.
Emily Kate. While he’d only been in the South a few days, he had already decided he would never understand the locals’ insistence on using first and middle names.
“No, I ...” Connor cut her off.
“And, yes, pecan-encrusted trout happens to be my specialty.”
“It ... is?” She looked utterly confused. Connor bit the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling. Sometimes, it was almost too damn easy. Another reason he couldn’t quite understand why his former boss up in Detroit had never promoted him. Everybody else loved him, almost instantly.
“Remember, I mentioned it when we spoke on the phone? I also told you I might be a little late today, considering I had to drive up from New Orleans,” he lied through his teeth. It was worth the small fib, though. The Henrys were hooked. Emily Kate was still dubious, but she was about to not have a choice. Connor knew how to play this game.
“You’re from New Orleans?” Mrs. Henry asked, her voice breathy. Mr. Henry didn’t even notice his wife was all but drooling. He was clearly too busy envisioning the pecan-encrusted trout that was now in his immediate future.
“Studied there,” Connor hedged. He didn’t want to get too caught up in his own lies. He didn’t know jack shit about New Orleans, and if these people started asking questions, he’d be screwed before he even got started.
“How about you all take your seats, and the server’ll get you a drink while Emily Kate and I head back to the kitchen and I get started on your order. Is that two pecan-encrusted trouts?”
“Crab stuffed shrimp for me,” Mrs. Henry piped up. “With tezcuco seafood salad.”
Tuscan what? “Uh, right. Come on, Emily Kate.”
The Henrys happily headed toward the hovering hostess, while Emily Kate remained where she was, glaring at him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he chided. “I just saved your ass.”

Meet the Author

Tami Lund Headshot 2014

Tami Lund likes to live, love, and laugh, and does her best to ensure the characters in her books do the same. After they've overcome a few seemingly insurmountable obstacles first, of course.

She loves to interact via social media, and is on most major platforms as "Tami Lund Author." Find her, like her, follow her!

Tami is multi-published, both self and with a few publishers, including Crimson Romance, Liquid Silver Books, and Soul Mates Publishing. Chances are, there is a new book coming out soon. Be sure to stalk her on social media, so you know when.

And most important, if you enjoyed one of Tami's books, please let other readers know by leaving a review on the site from which you bought it, or on Goodreads. Otherwise, how will they know which book to read next?
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Thursday, July 23, 2015

Caught up in the Touch

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Book Title: Caught Up in the Touch (Falcon Football Series) 
Author: Laura Trentham G
enre: Contemporary Romance 
Release Date: July 21, 2015 
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

Jessica Montgomery has always lived by three simple rules: stay calm, stay professional, stay in control. Working tirelessly to make it into the executive ranks of her family's business, her dream job of CFO is within reach-if she can convince one stubborn and sexy restaurateur to take her offer and manage Montgomery Industries' flagship restaurant in Atlanta.

On the surface Logan Wilde is all good-old-boy charm and humor, but he can't seem to outrun the hell-raising reputation of his high school years. Although he has thought about leaving his hometown in Falcon, Alabama, he has grown to love the town, his restaurant, and his part-time gig coaching the football team.

Jessica estimates it will take a week tops to get Logan Wilde's signature on her generous offer, but their first meeting is anything but professional. Logan shreds Jessica's control and unleashes a passion she didn't know existed even as a deeper connection between them takes root. When her family's manipulations threaten to tear them apart, Jessica has to decide whether her dream is really the CFO job or the man who has unselfishly offered his love.


"4 1/2 stars, TOP PICK!  The electrifying chemistry and sassy banter is decidedly fun, but their clumsier, awkward moments are perhaps a bit more endearing, adding a sweet note to this all-around success." -- RT Book Reviews magazine 

  "This novel takes the excitement of high school football and the allure of a budding romance and rolls them into a pleasing and thoughtful story. Reliable characters coupled with passionate and genuine love scenes complete the package in Trentham’s (Slow and Steady Rush) second series offering." -- Library Journal, STARRED Review


What rock had that dude crawled out from under? He looked about a month overdue for a shower. It was a pity too, because under the grime he wasn’t an ogre. And he had his teeth. In fact, contrary to the stereotype, they were straight and white, but maybe it was an illusion of the dim bar and his dark, unkempt beard.

Jessica checked her watch. What the heck was she supposed to do in this mosquito-sized town for three hours? She refused to hang out at the Walmart. The heat exacerbated the headache that had been brewing since Birmingham.

The AC in her car had gone on the fritz, going in and out and not keeping things as chill as she liked. She loved her Audi, bought with her own money right out of business school. Sleek, black, expensive—at least it would have been if she hadn’t found a deal on the used car.

She tossed her bag on the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel, the black leather, which looked buttery soft, cooking her like a hotcake on a griddle. The sweat trickling down the back of her neck would probably sizzle on the seat. She started the car, and an anemic burst of cool air chugged out of the vent. She turned the AC to max, but the air seemed to get warmer.

She reversed out of the parking spot, but before she could shift into drive, the temperature gauge blinked red and the car sputtered off. She turned the key over and back, pumping the gas pedal a few times. Nothing. An unwelcome helplessness set her knees into a tremble. She tried again. The battery buzzed, but the engine didn’t crank.

Her mind swirled until the tsking, logical side of her brain gained control. With the advent of smart phones, help was only a few clicks away. She would call AAA. They would send a truck and tow her car to the nearest garage. Then she could call a taxi. Simple. She sighed. As long as she had a plan, she could control the panic tramping around in her belly.

The car turned suffocating, the hot air constricting her lungs. She cracked the driver’s door, but the slight breeze coming off the tarry parking lot didn’t provide much relief. She riffled through her bag and came up with her phone. A tiny message in the corner of her screen sent ripples of unease through her stomach. No Service.

Were these people Quakers or something? No cell phone service? How did they communicate? Smoke signals? She shuddered a breath out of her dry mouth. Next logical step would be to head back inside and plead for help. A shadow crossed her body the same time a hard rap on the car made her bobble the phone to the floorboard.

“Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to startle you. Are you having problems?” Mountain Man rested his forearms over the top of her door. His wrists were thick, his hands huge. The black under his fingernails was a workingman’s polish, and fresh red scratches zagged over the backs of his hands. As he repositioned the frayed blue-and-white baseball cap shadowing his eyes, the muscles along his forearm jumped. Dark brown hair flipped into almost curls around the edges.

The sunlight emphasized the thinness of his cotton shirt, one shoulder seam pulling apart across the broad expanse of his torso. His masculinity wove around her, at once disconcerting, yet her illogical, escalating panic eased.

“My car won’t start.” God, she hated the little girl, tinny sound of her voice. She cleared her throat and tried again, forcing a practiced steel into her words. “It’s been acting funny since I hit Birmingham.”

Mountain Man assessed the parking space she’d pulled out of and pushed the brim of his hat up a couple of inches with his forefinger. He squatted, and she slid out of the car to watch. He swiped his fingers through a puddle on the blacktop and rubbed. Then, he smelled his fingers. He turned toward her, still in a squat. “Looks like a coolant leak. Your AC been working?”

“Not well. And my temperature gauge flashed red just before the engine died.”

“Pop the hood, and let me take a gander.”

She pulled the lever on the dashboard and joined him at the front of the car “Are you a mechanic?”

“I’m a handyman, remember?” Again, he graced her with a grin before leaning over the engine compartment to jiggle hoses.

His scent filtered through the humidity to her. Not the stench of unwashed male she expected. Underlying the clean sweat and grease was a mystery that hooked her closer, until she was leaning over the hood too, close to his shoulder. The one with the ripping seam. She swallowed, her throat stiff as if a noose had tightened. Usually, panic accompanied the feeling, but not this time. This time a covey of birds beat their wings in her stomach.

He turned toward her, one hand on the edge of her raised hood. His eyes were brown, but not a plain brown or even a deep, intensive one, but an electric brown with sparks of gold. They danced over her face. His voice came out gruff, almost a whisper. “I understand your problem.”

She massaged the taut cords of her neck. For a heartbeat, she wondered if he referred to her or her car. Hope lilted her question. “You do?”

“Yep. One of your hoses is cracked. Probably due to the heat.”

She swayed on her heels and dropped her face, pretending to study the hulk of metal and plastic under her hood. No matter her degrees and successes, sometimes she was a complete and total idiot. Like now. This redneck mountain man could never understand her. Her hair swished forward, pieces sticking to her cheeks, hiding her face. “Can you fix it?”

He left her standing over the puzzle of her engine. He hadn’t even offered to call a tow truck. She felt oddly abandoned.

He stopped at an old blue-and-white Ford pickup truck parked in the shadow of a huge oak tree. Instead of climbing in and driving off with a grin and a wave, he flipped open a white, metal utility box in the truck bed. Clanging metal accompanied his search. He made a satisfied exclamation before trotting back toward her. “Duct tape. I always keep a roll handy. You mind hanging on to my hat?”

Without giving her a chance to answer, he pushed the ball cap into her hands, dropped to lay on the ground, and scooched under her car. Bent at the knees, his legs stuck out from under the bumper.

An embroidered flying falcon on the side of his cap had lost half of its thread, and she picked at the fraying brim. She shuffled her feet apart and flapped her blouse to catch the slight breeze ruffling her hair. The occasional rip of tape punctuated the unidentifiable song he hummed.

His shimmy reversed itself, and he emerged with new brown stains on the front of his shirt and a glossy smear along his cheekbone. He wiped his hands along the edge of his shirt, dirtying it further, and ran the back of his wrist over his forehead, wiping away a rivulet of sweat.

“You’ve got some grease on your cheek.” She pointed like a three-year-old.

He brought the edge of his T-shirt to his face and scrubbed it clean. At least she assumed that’s what he was doing, because she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his torso.

Michael, the boyfriend she’d broken up with six months ago, had kept his chest waxed to show off the contours he worked hard for in the gym. Mountain Man did not wax. Curly brownish hair led from his partially revealed pecs straight into the waistband of the gray boxer briefs peeking out of his jeans. And for all the time her ex-boyfriend had put in at the gym, he never built the solid, thick muscles of the man standing close enough to touch.

Mountain Man didn’t lift weights for an hour then push papers around a desk for the rest of the day. Maybe he chopped wood or moved bales of hay or broke horses. She’d watched a documentary on real-life working cowboys one sleepless night and had unusually erotic-laced dreams when she’d finally drifted off.

“Do you ride a horse?” Wait a holy-rolling second . . . had she said that aloud?
Meet the Author

Laura Trentham was born and raised in a small town in Northwest Tennessee. Although she loved English and reading in high school, she was convinced an English degree equated to starvation, so chose the next most logical major—Chemical Engineering—and worked

in a hard hat and steel-toed boots for several years. Now she lives in South Carolina with her husband and two children. In between school and homework and soccer practices, she loves to get lost in another world, whether it’s Regency England or small-town Alabama.

SLOW AND STEADY RUSH, Book One of the Falcon Football Series is out now and was named an RT Book Reviews TOP PICK.You don't have to enjoy football to read them, you only have to love smoking hot football coaches and the sassy Southern women who tame them.

AN INDECENT INVITATION, Book One of the Spies and Lovers Series and a Golden Heart-finaling Regency romance, releases August 25th and is available for pre-order.

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Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Steeling My Haart

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Book Title: Steeling My Haart 
Author: Lizzy Roberts 
Genre: Contemporary Romance 
Release Date: March 13, 2015 
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

Eight years ago Emma’s life is ripped apart when Charlie saves her life from a devastating tornado and walks away. Left with nothing, she moves from Glen Springs, Oklahoma to New York. She finds success, but the only thing that feels like home is M’s Place, the diner near her apartment.

A trip to Las Vegas changes everything. Things are looking up then tragedy strikes. Emma moves back to Oklahoma with more on her plate than she ever imagined. Can she finally get her life together and put the history between her and Charlie to rest?

An hour gave her just enough time to shower and style her glossy brown hair in a simple tight knot at the top of her head. A few stray curls were left hanging to break up the harshness. She had also treated herself to a new underwear set, to fit better under the stunning dress she was now trying to fasten. After attempting for a few minutes, Emma walked out into the shared area holding the dress to her chest to ask Bruce if he could assist. She wasn’t prepared for him to be standing there looking absolutely flawless in a double breasted black tuxedo, his handsome features accentuated by clean shaven skin and his normally fairly wayward hair styled to perfection. He was the epitome of handsome and it did funny things to her stomach as she took him in.

“Erm… Bruce… could you help?” she asked shyly, turning around and exposing her naked back to him under the unfastened dress. Stepping over gracefully, Bruce gently took the zipper and helped her close the dress. His fingers gently slid up her back, leaving a tingling trail right the way to the top of the zipper. Emma’s breath hitched at the contact and she felt another blush creeping over her made-up face. “Thank you,” she whispered and walked away, too scared what she may see in his face if she turned back, or more importantly what he may have seen in hers.

Grabbing her clutch and putting on the matching pumps, she took a final stock of herself in the mirror and when she was satisfied at what she saw she walked back out. Bruce was standing in front of the floor to ceiling window, taking in the early evening bustle of the strip and sipping from a glass of dark liquid. She slowly walked to him with the clicking of her heels on the floor tiles the only noise in the room.

“I’m ready when you are.” She spoke softly. He turned and a slow smile of appreciation spread across his face.

“I was right. You are going to be the most beautiful woman in the room tonight.” He set his tumbler down on the table and reached for a small black velvet box. He walked over to Emma and opening it he took out a simple silver chain, attached to which was the most exquisite diamond pendant. Leaning in to clasp it around her neck, Emma could smell the delicate cologne he was wearing mixed with the fresh scent of his shower soap.

“Bruce, this is too much,” she protested.

“Shh. Just take a look in the mirror, and if you don’t think it completes this outfit, I’ll take it back,” he proposed.

She wandered to the mirror in the foyer of the suite and agreed he was right. It was just the right size to fill the expanse of glowing skin between her neck and the low cut seam at the top of her dress. She felt beautiful.




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Meet the Author

Thirty something Mum of two from the North of England (Yorkshire to be precise AKA Gods own Country) who regularly seeks refuge in fictional characters minds. Prefers the hot and hunky men with a romantic side but not averse to a dominant man, nor ones with a dark side too!

She decided, after much persuasion from both her friends and especially her husband to pursue her dream of one day publishing her own book!

So after much deliberation (and nagging from him indoors), her first book Steeling my Haart out now!

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