Blog Archives

LOOKING FOR JIMMY STEWART By Jeane Daly

5/29/2013

Andi Temperly has everything she ever wanted: the perfect job, a handsome fiancée, and loyal friends. Until that disastrous day robbed her of all the things she loved.

(Jeane want to hear your stories too, in particular, your favorite Christmas present as a teen. Please comment, and a random commenter will be pick as the winner of $20 Amazon giftcard.)

REVIEW

Looking for Jimmy Stewart is a sweet romance by Jeane Daly. Andi, our heroine, had a perfect life, yesterday. Today is not so great. Not only as she lost her beloved job as an airline flight attendant, her company went bankrupt making her stick worthless. It would be great if she had a strong masculine shoulder to pour her troubles out on, but her boyfriend left about the same time as her job. Unfortunately, he helped himself to a few things on his way out too.

Andi Temperly returns to her hometown to lick her wounds and hopefully find a new job. Working at the same steakhouse that she did as a teen is certainly a comedown. It doesn’t help to find she has a demanding neighbor with an oversized cat who keeps hanging out at her house. The nephew is busy trying to corral the wayward feline while attempting to charm her.

No thanks, she is not in the mood to be charmed. Between job searches, she relaxes with Jimmy Stewart’s movies. Why can’t men today be more like Mr. Stewart, she often wonders to herself unaware she may have a regular Jimmy right under her nose.

Ms. Daly populated the town with strong and often eccentric characters. Andi’s girlfriends are a nice touch. There is sweetness about this book you don’t normally find in books today. Outside of the ex-boyfriend, no one is bad. They are simply people living ordinary lives the best they can.

Looking for Jimmy Stewart should satisfy your romance sweet teeth. It is a good book to keep in your purse to read anywhere. No worries about hiding the cover, you can enjoy this sweet romance with no embarrassing blushes. Two thubs up for Ms. Daly.

It is available in both paperback and Kindle.

Looking for JiMMY Stewart (click to buy)

The Story Behind The Story

When I talk about my recent book, Looking for Jimmy Stewart, the same question comes up…when did you decide to write a book. I’ve been writing since I was twelve…nothing major, just things in my daily life. That was the beginning of Daly Life and On the Bright Side, my two humor columns for the Community News. Four highly intelligent (cough) readers had taken time from their busy lives to email and say nice things about my writing. Those emails were the instrument I needed to push me toward my goal of writing a novel.

Because my book is a contemporary romance, I joined Romance Writers of America and took zillions of creative writing workshops. I joined From The Heart, an online critique group, where I met dedicated writers from all over the world.

I sent query letters to editors and agents…after months of anxiously waiting for a reply…rejections. On January 1, 2010, the call every writer dreams about happened.

“Jeane, it is with great pleasure I offer you a contract…”

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Lapses of Memory by M.S. Spencer

5/20/2013

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Usually a story starts with a kernel of memory, or an anecdote, or even an image flashing across the inside of your eyes. Lots of things can trigger it—a news headline or a paragraph tucked away in the obituaries, a throw-away line from a conversation, or even a publisher’s idea. In the case of my new release, Lapses of Memory, it was the latter. My wonderful publisher at Secret Cravings tossed out the idea of a series based on “love in the air.” My editor asked if I might be interested in making a contribution. I emitted a high-pitched squeal that sounded enough like “yes” to commit me to the project.

Now, rather than starting with a plot of my own devising, I had to come up with one related to someone else’s theme. Here’s the part where an image flashing across your brain comes in. Sitting quietly in what I optimistically call my lotus position, I mulled. “Planes,” I said to myself. “Love in the air…snakes on a plane (nah)…old planes…my first trip on a plane…” Yeesss! On a recent visit to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum I had seen an enormous, bulbous silver bird hanging from the ceiling with EASTERN painted in red across the side. I remember it made me feel old, since the aircraft was, in fact, the very first plane I’d flown on at age four. A Boeing 377 Stratocruiser, one of the first to make the transatlantic voyage a regular event, it allowed—with its sleeping berths and formal dining—for luxurious air travel in the 1950s.

I decided that my heroine, Sydney, would take that plane. And so would the hero Elian. Everything was going swimmingly until I realized that, this being a contemporary romance, Sydney and Elian would be too young in 1958 to fall in love. So I was forced to make them suffer through an intermittent romance as they (and airplane design) matured. I made them journalists so I could subject Sydney and Elian to assorted world catastrophes, like Egyptian/Israeli tensions, the Iranian revolution, and the civil war in Lebanon. They held up rather well considering.

One lucky reader with a story about a plane ride they’ve taken will win a pdf of Lapses of Memory. Enjoy!

Lapses of Memory, by M. S. Spencer

Secret Cravings Publishing, May 10, 2013

Ebook, 70,000 words

Romance, Action/Adventure, M/F, 3 flames

Buy Link: http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=595

Lapses of Memory is a story within a story, in which Sydney Bellek relates the story of her life to her daughter Olivia. Every few years from the age of five Sydney meets her true love Elian Davies, but while he remembers her, she doesn’t recognize him. Only after surviving wars, revolutions, and years of separation does she realize they are meant to be, but this time it is Elian who has lost his memory of her. While Olivia chronicles the ups and downs of her parents’ romance she must also deal with her own dilemma, choosing between the rich and dashing Rémy de Beaumec, who wants to take her around the world, and the strong, silent, American-to-the-core, Benjamin Knox, who only wants to make her happy.

EXCERPT (PG): The Lady Doesn’t Remember

Several beers later they wobbled out to the lobby holding hands. Sydney had learned enough to know this Elian was a complex person and really, really cute. When they reached her room he backed her against the door. She could feel his penis throbbing through his jeans and took a minute to revel in the desire the friction ignited before pushing him away. He set his arms on either side of her, and regarded her with serious eyes. “You still don’t remember me, do you?”

She shook her head. She didn’t really want to recognize him. Placing him in some other context could only be deflating. She liked him now, a tall, thin, russet-haired man with a pulsing member and inviting mouth, currently blowing a tidal wave of pheromones in her direction.

He continued to stand there, making none of the moves she wished he’d make. Finally she took a step toward him and held out her lips. Leaning in, he took them with his. The link pulled the rest of their bodies together. Arms went around waist and neck, bellies ground against each other, thighs intertwined. Sydney fell into a long, dark, winding tunnel that squeezed her, taking her breath away. She no longer felt corporeal, but more like a soft piece of quivering tissue, the bones dissolving, reduced finally to a pool of liquid heat.

He broke away, panting. “Now do you remember me?”

Her arms empty, she tried blinking to drag herself back to the present. Elian swam into view. His azure eyes shot signals, signals that she couldn’t decipher. What does he want of me? Why can’t we live for the moment? Just be in the here and now? For an instant she thought of lying, but somehow she knew he would see through it, that it would only push him farther away. “I’m sorry.”

He lifted his arms, and dropped them in frustration. He gazed at her, pleading. She couldn’t help him. Bits of him seemed familiar—as though those features belonged to someone else she’d known a long time ago. Other bits, like his deep, gruff voice and his air of insolence, were strange and new. A fleeting sense of abandonment passed through her. Whoever he reminded her of had left her once before. She didn’t want that loneliness again. She turned from him and put the key in the door. He caught her arm. “We’ll meet again, Sydney.”

She tried to match the hope in his voice. “Perhaps we will.” She ran inside and threw herself on the bed. After a good cry and a call for room service, she paced the room, trying to get a grip on her emotions. Something deep in Elian’s eyes drew her. She didn’t recognize his face, but she felt a linkage, a bond with him. An affinity shared, but long ago. She understood him, knew him. A face rose before her, but all jumbled as though she looked at it through a kaleidoscope. Eyes, chin, nose, cheeks, all split up into triangles and rhomboids, making the face as inscrutable as a Picasso painting. She gave up.

Halfway through the chicken cordon bleu she stopped, fork stalled two inches from her mouth. Why does he care whether I recognize him? What is this rapport I sense? Is there some deep, dark secret I should know? Oh my God, is he my long lost brother?

Biography

Although I’ve lived or traveled in every continent except Antarctica and Australia (bucket list), the last 30 years have been spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director and parent. I’m about to heave the entire ho to Florida, leaving behind the cherry blossoms, the monuments, and the political hacks.

Contacts:

Blog: http://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/msspencertalespinner

Twitter: www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/
Amazon Author Page:

http://www.amazon.com/M.S.-Spencer/e/B002ZOEUC8/

GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer

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CUDDLE UP SCP BLOG HOP MAY 18-19

5/17/2013

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Read Contemporary Romance Excerpts and win prizes from 26 different Authors. Prizes given at each stop.

Click below to find full list of participants.

http://www.facebook.com/l/5AQFNVI56/secretcravingspublishing.blogspot.
com/2013/05/secret-craving-publishing-contemporary.html

This Stop: Unexpected Cougar by Morgan K Wyatt & a chance to win a $15 Starbucks GC & two free books from my backlist.

Blurb:
Who ever heard of a divorced marriage therapist? It didn’t
inspire confidence, but her fake wedding ring did. Of course, the ring sounded a death knell for actually meeting men. Not that she’d date her clients because they were already married. She just needed a different life on the side, one where she dated hot professional men who’d wine and dine her. Fat chance.

Instead she spends all her time at King Crab restaurant discussing her failed dates with Jackson, the young bartender. Why did love have to be so hard? Oh yeah, that’s why people came to her for advice. If she
were to advise herself then it would be to grab Jackson, and forget his age.

By the time, she makes up her mind, Trinity shows up; she thinks
Jackson would be the perfect third husband. Elise has to play dirty to win her man with hilarious results.

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First Kiss

Blog: The Art of Kissing

I recently picked up an unread book I have on my bookshelf called The Art of Kissing. This small book by William Cane came from a neighbor’s yard sale.

The author starts out the book by reminding us of our first magical kiss. Think back; what was your first kiss like? Young people are supposed to start somewhere, but what if you’re an adult and don’t know how to kiss?

Did you know smiling and laughing will garner you more kisses than looking sultry or sad. People are attracted to happy people…and they tend to kiss them too. Don’t know how to kiss? The author suggests placing your lips gently on your date's lips and wait a few seconds seeing if your sweetie will respond. Most will and then you simply follow their movements.

Different kisses mean different things. I went out on a second date with my husband and was unsure if he liked me. At the end of the date, I received the sister kiss on the hair. What was that? What did it mean? He later admitted that his intention was to let me know he was fond of me, but not to press too hard too fast.

William Cane reveals in his book that women love kissing. In fact, many women report they could do it for hours. The majority of women described kissing as being more intimate than sex. What makes kissing so special?

It brings a special intimacy and warmness to a couple. To go from a kissing zero to hero, a man has to be creative. Men who kiss you in an unexpected location such as an escalator are bound to get a reaction. Then of course, there are men who kiss you on unexpected places. The number one place women like kisses besides the lips according to an Internet survey is the neck.

What if a man is horrible at kissing? Could be he’s a shy guy who hasn’t had much experience, but might be willing to learn. Then there are men who are rather rigid with their lips who peck at you as if you were corn and they, a chicken. If a man is over thirty-five and still pecks like a chicken…well, you may have to decide how much you like kissing. This is not someone who enjoys kissing. At best, he sees kissing as a way to warm up the woman for the main event.

In Cane’s book, both men and women participated in a survey to see how Americans fared on the kissing scale. Europeans, especially Italians, French and Spanish kissed more frequently and kissed well. They also kissed in public more and kissed for the sake of kissing. Sadly, even the Germans scored higher than Americans did. We can take heart that our British cousins scored rather low too. The complaints against American men included that they usually don’t know how to kiss; they’re too forceful and see it as only a prelude to sex. American women were not open to public kissing as much as their European cousins and didn’t open their mouths as much. We can tell ourselves that was only the opinion of people answering the survey.

A man who loves to kiss and is willing to learn and experiment is priceless. He’ll feather delicate kisses over his lover’s closed eyes. Playful Eskimo nose rubs and puppy dog lick kisses are in his repertoire along with lip sucking and French kissing. He’s tried them all at some time and is willing to try more. Do you remember a movie hero who was a terrible kisser?

The reason behind this is women want men who can kiss well. A kiss epitomizes romance. A man who kisses well and times his kisses appropriately can usually have his pick of women. After a hard day, a simple hug and kiss can make you feel SO much better. On the flipside, couples who divorce usually haven’t kissed for a very long time. The lack of kissing helps break down their initial bond. They no long feel close because they’re not. Never underestimate the power of a kiss.

UNEXPECTED COUGAR EXCERPT

His eyes twinkled at her in the dim light, or did she imagine it?

“Nope, I am walking you out to your car. Men look out for the more delicate sex. Although, despite you’re feminine appearance, I bet you’re a tough female, a regular Captain Janeway.”

“Who?” She scanned the parking lot for her car, which wasn’t hard since all the cars were gone, except for a few belonging to employees. She walked toward her green compact sedan with Jackson keeping pace. He rattled the change in his pocket a sure sign of nervousness. What did he have to be nervous about?

“Captain Janeway commanded the Starship Voyager on the ill-fated Star Trek spin-off. Still, her character was a strong, attractive, smart woman—uhm forget I said anything.” He stammered to an abrupt stop.

Elise hip bumped him playfully and acted surprised. “Oops, sorry. I know who Janeway is. I especially liked her Native American first officer, Chakotay.

“Really? I never met a woman who had actually heard of the show. Is this yours?” He nodded in the direction of the green less than beautiful car.

“Untrustworthy as it is.”

She found herself drawn to the slightly nerdy bartender, and they were at her car. If he were a date, she’d expect a kiss. If a guy tried to French her, plastering her against her car, she definitely wouldn’t go out with him again. If he pursed up his lips reminiscent of a second grader, she’d pass on him too. A firm, light touch of the lips solicited a second date, unless he’d triggered one of her taboo areas during the evening. This included rhapsodizing about the wonders of his mother, complaining bitterly about his ex, and every other woman who passed through his life, or expecting sexual favors as a nightcap.

A press on the keychain fob unlocked the car, turning on the interior light and highlighting the backseat complete with all the bachelorette gear for a friend’s party. Maybe Jackson wouldn’t notice the cake in the shape of male genitalia. At five times the real size, it was hard to miss. Jackson covered his mouth in sudden coughing fit and turned his head slightly away. He hadn’t missed it.

“Are you a baker by trade?” he asked in a choked voice.

“Argh, I prayed you didn’t see that. A business associate in my building is getting married. Shirley, a sixty-plus widow, picked out all the goodies. I’m the lucky one who gets to haul it all around. If they knew how unreliable my car has been lately, they might have picked someone else.” She put her hand on the door only to find his hand there already.

“Allow me.” He opened the door. “What’s wrong with your car?”

“Starter.” She slid in, turned the key, and listened to the car grind and not start. “It takes a while for it to catch. I know I should get a new one, but…”

“What?” He braced his arms against the roof of her car and leaned in to talk to her. “Why aren’t you fixing it? It’s not safe for you to be out on your own and not be able to get your car started, especially in a dark parking lot.”

Same lecture her father gave her a few days before. She sighed and muttered “Thanks, Dad.”

Jackson recoiled, slamming his head on the open door frame. Damn, just when she thought he might kiss her. Not that he should, but she hoped he would. It would mean he was interested in her, although he’d already shown her more attention than she’d had in the last six months. Still, he was probably just a nice guy who walked lone women to their cars.

He spun away from her to better curse under his breath, holding his head with both hands. Getting out of her car, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him from the back, an extremely bold move on her part.

“I’m sorry Jackson you’re nothing like my father, with the exception he’s a nice guy. You’re a nice guy. He has brown hair. You have brown hair. He has—oh, I’m babbling.”

Jackson turned slowly in her loose embrace until he faced her. “I like it when you babble.” His lips moved closer to hers when a voice broke into their romantic bubble.

“Jack, I can’t get the credit card machine to work,” a disembodied female voice called out.

She not only heard his sigh, she felt it. He backed off, dug out his wallet, and pawed thought the contents until he produced a battered business card and handed it to her.

“The guy who owns this garage is a friend and a former co-worker. He’ll give you a free estimate and do honest work. Try starting the car again. I don’t want to leave without it running.” Jackson glanced back at the figure at the door.

“Okay.” She hopped into the car and cranked the engine again, hoping it would start.

She didn’t need her wonky car holding up business. This time it caught. Backing out, she waved at Jackson. Would this be the last time she saw him? Probably not if she continued to use the restaurant to meet her dates, the thought of him watching her soldier through inappropriate pairings would make her even more self-conscious. Why didn’t she ask him out? Maybe she read the signs wrong. It might horrify the guy. The thought of even more masculine rejection tightened her lips and steeled her determination to give dating a break.

Want to read more. All my ebooks are 20% off on www.secretcravingspublishing.com. Usecode: Morgan20
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Why Character Names Matter

5/9/2013

26 Comments

I have several works in progress without having actual character names. They have names that will have to change. That's where you come in because names are very important.

Hero names can either make or break the character's image. Heroines' names are a little more creative. An awkward heroine name can be shorten to an easier, often sexier, name. Think about how you feel about certain names. I will not have a hero named Damien because I still remember The Omen, were the anti-Christ bore the same name. I stay away from the name Jason since it starred in so many slasher movies. Of course, one of my bad guys is Jason.

Then there are awkward names that don’t denote evil, but certainly doesn’t make you think of a sexy alpha male. Names like Elmer, Harold, or Eugene. I went to school with a decent guy named Eugene, but he did not attract the girls. Names do shape the way we treat people.

As a teacher, I wonder why people actually named their sons Buddy, Buddy, or even Tater. I have seen the birth
certificates. Then there are the girls with stripper names such as Delite, Treasure and Njoy. It will be hard for them to even interview for a job in the professional world. A recent study revealed that applicants with unusual names did not even get an interview despite having the same or better qualifications. The real reason behind this is the interviewer already has a mental image of the candidate before ever meeting him or her.

This is the reason behind authors and stars changing their names. Back in Hollywood’s heyday, they tried
to make the star’s new names between two and three syllables and not more than five for the full name. It was easy to remember and say. The men sometimes could get by on fewer syllables such as John Wayne and Rock
Hudson.

As a writer, I find myself running out of names I like. I recently went back to list all the names I’ve used in my Secret Cravings Novels. I discovered I repeated two names, Nick and Ashlee. Argh. This is a writer’s worst fear. The reason behind this is people will think they are the same people. They might think my Nick in Reluctant
Cougar is fooling around with the heroine in Escaping
West, even though almost two hundred years separate them. The good news is my historical Nick is really Levi due to changing his name when he became a gambler.

As for Ashlee, I still have time to change the name since Seeking Shelter hasn’t been published yet. I could use some help coming up with new names for WIPs. Maybe you can help. Here are the names I used.

Hero Names: Nick, Colt, Grayson, Townsend, Wolf, Marcus, Alex, Kevin, Ryan, Dylan, Jackson, Nick,
Curt, Brent

Heroine Names: Yvette, Emily, Eileen, Kitty, Krista, Teresa, Cinda, Darla, Ashlee, Amy, Leah, Elise, Ashley,
Deidre, Theo

I need two names for WIP contemporary romantic suspense. The thirty-ish heroine manages to survive an attempt by her crime lord husband to kill her. He believes she is dead. A kind soul and her brother rescue her from the sea. Unfortunately, the heroine doesn’t remember who she is. I need names for the heroine and the hero. The hero is intelligent and thoughtful, more Clark Kent than Superman.

I appreciate your help. If I use your names, it is fitting you should get something from it. I will mention you in the
dedication, a free book when published, plus a gift card for right now. A $10 dollar gift card for either Starbucks or Amazon depending on where you live. Thanks.

http://askdavid.com/free-book-promotion
David is currently promoting my books. The only requirement is that they are listed on Amazon. They can be listed elsewhere too.

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Beneath Outback Skies by Alissa Callen

5/1/2013

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Blurb - A captivating
rural romance featuring an indomitable young woman determined to save her family farm, and the city-boy who is not all he seems...Paige Quinn will let
nothing and no one distract her from caring for her wheelchair-bound father, Connor, and fighting for her remote, drought-stricken property, Banora Downs. Least of all a surprise farm-stay guest named Tait Cavanaugh, whose smooth words are as lethal as his movie-star smile. Except Paige can’t help noticing that, for a city-boy, Tait seems unexpectedly at home on the land. And he does ask a lot of questions…It doesn’t matter how much he helps out or how much
laughter he brings into her life, she soon suspects he is harbouring a big
secret – the real reason he has come to Banora Downs…

Alissa is giving out a e-copy of her book What Love Sounds Like for commenters who can answer this question. Question: Do you have, or have you ever had, a special pet in your life?

Alissa Callen live in Australia and writes about it. So what makes Australia a great place for romance.

Five reasons why the Australian Outback is a perfect setting for a romance novel …
1. The Aussie Outback is spectacular – from ochre red dust to brilliant blue skies, to cream-trunked gum trees, to bleached grasses, the colour palette provided by rural Australia is breath taking.

2.Just like in the Old West, the outback fosters a special type of community spirit as people band together to survive no matter what Mother Nature might throw at them – fires, floods or droughts.

3.There are cowboys (and cowgirls). Need I say any more

4.Stories set in the Outback may also contain animals, whether they are horses, mischievous puppies or even in my current WIP a goat who believes she is a dog.

5.The Outback with its endless horizons, starlit night skies and sense of space is a place where past hurts can heal and dreams come true.

excerpt – Chapter one-

    Unless this city boy is on a first-name basis with the rain gods, I’m not showing him around Banora Downs.’
    Paige Quinn’s quiet, measured words fell like much-needed
rain into the silence of her father’s study.
    I know how hard you work, how busy you are, but I’ve
given my word this man can stay.’ Lines of tension mapped Connor Quinn’s creased features. His strong shoulders were braced beneath the red-checked cotton of his best shirt. ‘Possum … I’m sorry.’
   Her Akubra crumpled beneath her tight grip. She’d been out droving hungry cattle in the long paddock for a fortnight. In such time it looked as though her father had aged a decade.
‘ It’s okay, Dad. You can’t control fate. Can’t make life fair.’Her gentle tone failed to return colour to her father’s hollowed cheeks. They both knew she wasn’t talking about the endless blistering Australian summer.
   ‘We can do this. We can survive.’ Conviction echoed in her words like her footsteps upon the floorboards as she approached her father’s desk. ‘Just as we’ve always done. Just the two of us.’ She placed her hat upon the time-worn mahogany. ‘We don’t need some paying guest’s cash.’
   She may as well have been talking to one of the garden statues that now presided over old tools in the shed, instead of lush lawns and
fragrant flower beds. The only movement in her father’s expression was his eyes as they glanced from her face to her hat. She shifted on her feet. The sun-bleached felt would look pristine compared with her torn-around-the-edges appearance. Her faded emerald-green shirt was caked in ochre dust, her jeans so stiff they could walk by themselves to the laundry
    Her father lowered his hands and the sinews of his forearms flexed as he manoeuvred his wheelchair out from behind the desk.
    ‘Yes, we do. We haven’t had a wheat crop for five years. We’ve few cattle left to sell.’ She steeled herself so the reality of how much they did have left wouldn’t show on her face. ‘This drought has hit us hard. We need money to eat … to live.’
   She swallowed down her hunger. The meagre slice of toast
she’d eaten around her dawn campfire was little more than a memory.
   ‘We’ll make do. You know what happened with the last city-slicker. He had three showers a day and drained the tank. Not to mention
our phone bill because his mobile didn’t have reception. As for the time he went for a walk and we had to organize a bloody search party …’ She knelt to grasp her father’s hands. ‘This man will be just the same. He’ll be nothing but trouble. We don’t have the diesel to drive him to town. We don’t have the cash for his lobster and caviar.’
‘ If it helps,’ a deep-timbred voice sounded from the doorway behind her, ‘I’m allergic to seafood.’
    Paige stiffened. Only the firm grasp of her father’s hands prevented her from spinning around. ‘Paige,’ her father murmured as if she were
six years old again, ‘play nice.’ A flicker of humour lit his eyes. ‘We want our guest to leave with good memories, not with his arm in a cast. Okay?’
   She kinked a brow. ‘You do remember cousin Charles fell out of the tree all by himself, don’t you?’
   Her father winked and eased his grip on her hands.
   She straightened and spun on her boot heels to see a tall man stride into the room.
   She met eyes as blue as the water that haunted her dreams. For a nanosecond she drowned in their cool, clear depths. Then the stranger’s scent hit her. Top-shelf aftershave. Hand-crafted leather. Money. Three things as foreign to her world as dust, dehydration and desperation were to him.
   It didn’t matter if the price tag for keeping his thick, dark hair city-short would feed them for days. It didn’t matter if the muscles beneath the fine weave of his blue chambray shirt were exactly what she needed to fix the broken fence. This paying guest wasn’t welcome. The outback was no place for the inexperienced or the foolhardy. Even more so when rain was non-existent. Everything was thirsty and bad-tempered. Stock. Snakes. Humans. There was no way this man could stay the weekend.
He stopped in front of her and offered his hand. ‘Tait Cavanaugh.’
   Her arm lifted as though it were anchored by a heavy weight. ‘Paige Quinn.’
His clean, smooth palm slid against her smaller, work-roughened one. A smile laced his eyes with laughter and light. She pulled her hand away. Unless this man’s charm made it rain, he and his high-wattage grin were as useful as stilettos in a cattle yard.
   She inclined her head towards Connor. ‘I believe you’ve spoken with my father, Connor Quinn?’
   Yes, I’ve already had the pleasure over the phone.’ He extended a hand towards the older man. ‘You were right on the money. The V12
engine did the trip in just under eight hours.’
   The men exchanged a lengthy, vigorous handshake. She ground her teeth. A masculine love-fest of all things automotive wasn’t part of
her eviction plan. Not only would Tait deplete their water supply, he’d also soak up her time – time she needed to hide the true state of Banora Downs’ affairs from her father. She’d promised her mother she would take care of him and he had enough to deal with without the added burden of the farm. The trading of his cane for his wheelchair told her just how much his legs troubled him. V12 engine or not, this man, his fancy vehicle and his easy grin had to go. No matter how much money he was paying. Or how much her father’s expression had lightened in the past few minutes. Exhaustion pressed upon her shoulders.
   ‘Mr Cavanaugh, your being allergic to seafood does help. We don’t have insurance. So it’ll be in both our best interests if you stayed
elsewhere.’ She pushed her lips into what she hoped qualified as a smile. ‘I personally will arrange accommodation in another farm-stay closer to town.’
   "I wouldn’t want to cause trouble.’
‘Oh, it’s no trouble. Believe me.’ She inclined her head towards the phone on the office bench. Her fingers curled into a fist at the urge to reach for the handset. ‘It just so happens I have the farm-stay’s
number on speed-dial.’
   ‘I bet you do.’ His chuckle failed to disguise the determination clipping his words. ‘But you won’t need any insurance. I’m a good
boy scout and brought my emergency adrenaline EpiPen.’ The corner of his mouth kicked into a half-grin. ‘I’m sure you’ll have no trouble sticking a needle into me.’
   She compressed her lips to stifle a smile.
   Gorgeous. Witty. Used to getting his own way.
   This city pretty-boy wasn’t even staying a day.

Author Alissa Callen

author bio - When Alissa Callen isn't writing she plays traffic controller to four children, three dogs, two horses and one renegade cow who really does believe the grass is greener on the other side of
the fence. After a childhood spent chasing sheep on the family farm, Alissa has always been drawn to remote areas and small towns, even when residing overseas. Once a teacher and a counsellor, she remains interested in the life journeys that people take and her books are characteristically heart-warming, emotional and character driven. She currently lives on a small slice of rural Australia in central western New South Wales.

social media info - Face book page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Alissa-CallenAuthor/355366704552838

Website: www.alissacallen.com

Book/buy link: Beneath Outback Skies http://www.randomhouse.com.au/books/alissa-callen/beneath-outback-skies-9780857980397.aspx

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LOOKING FOR JIMMY STEWART By Jeane Daly

Lapses of Memory by M.S. Spencer

CUDDLE UP SCP BLOG HOP MAY 18-19

Read Contemporary Romance Excerpts and win prizes from 26 different Authors. Prizes given at each stop.

Click below to find full list of participants.http://www.facebook.com/l/5AQFNVI56/secretcravingspublishing.blogspot.com/2013/05/secret-craving-publishing-contemporary.html

This Stop: Unexpected Cougar by Morgan K Wyatt & a chance to win a $15 Starbucks GC & two free books from my backlist.

Follow me on:www.facebook.com/AuthorMorganKWyattwww.twitter.com/morgankwyattwww.morgankwyatt.comBooks are available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble, but they are only on sale at www.secretcravingspublishing with the code (Morgan20)

Why Character Names Matter

Beneath Outback Skies by Alissa Callen

Morgan K Wyatt

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www.facebook.com/AuthorMorganKWyatt
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Books are available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble, but they are only on sale at www.secretcravingspublishing with the code (Morgan20)