The Marriage Code by Brooke Burroughs…Book Spotlight, Author Q&A, and Giveaway

About the Book:
Title: The Marriage Code

Author: Brook Burroughs

Release Date: January 1, 2021

Publisher: Montlake

Summary:
Emma has always lived her life according to a plan. But after turning down her boyfriend’s proposal, everything starts to crumble. In an effort to save the one thing she cares about—her job—she must recruit her colleague, Rishi, to be on her development team…only she may or may not have received the position he was promised. (She did.)


Rishi cannot believe that he got passed over for promotion. To make matters worse, not only does his job require him to return home to Bangalore with his nemesis, Emma, but his parents now expect him to choose a bride and get married. So, when Emma makes him an offer—join her team, and she’ll write an algorithm to find him the perfect bride—he reluctantly accepts.


Neither of them expect her marriage code to work so well—or to fall for one another—which leads Emma and Rishi to wonder if leaving fate up to formulas is really an equation for lasting love.

Q&A with Author Brooke Burroughs

The Marriage Code is your debut novel. Can you tell us about your publishing journey?

In a word, long! I’m always envious reading about writers who wrote their first book, got an agent, and published in like, the span of six months. Mine was definitely longer as this book was first written as a memoir, then I fictionalized the story which took a few years. The big moment was when Melissa Marino selected my manuscript for Pitchwars, and that led me to find my agent.

As tech experts both your hero and heroine tend to be data driven which leads to the creation of ‘the marriage code’. What is the code and how did it come about?

The marriage code is a customized search for the perfect woman that Emma develops for her coworker Rishi. It only finds women who match his exact specifications (well, his and his family’s). I like to think of it as Match.com (or shaadi.com in India) on steroids.

This is definitely not a love at first sight story! In fact, Rishi and Emma have quite a difficult time getting along at first. Can you describe their first meeting and how this sets the scene for their relationship?

Emma is in a super rough spot. Her carefully constructed world is collapsing because her boyfriend has publicly proposed to her, she wasn’t ready, and he in turn blames her for turning him down. So the next day she goes into work, clinging to the fact that at least she has her job, and this project she’s put all her blood, sweat, and tears into. But then Rishi, a stranger, tells her that this project is no longer hers. For a woman who likes patterns and predictability, well…she loses it. Now Emma is faced with the threat of no job, no boyfriend, no homey apartment—until she convinces her manager to give the project to her, not knowing Rishi is slated to manage it, and that it’s his salvation from the pressures of his family. They still need to work together…closely. And that sets the two of them off on a journey they never expected.

Rivals to friends to confidants … to something much, much more. What do you consider the turning point in their story?

I think the big pivot for Emma and Rishi is when she finally lets her guard down and tells him about her past when they’re in Kerala. Emma is really private and feels like she’s always had to protect her vulnerability to be successful, and I think for a lot of women in tech that can be true (well, probably true for a lot of women in many jobs). That opening up leads to the much, much more!

Emma is from the Northwest and Rishi from the south–southern India that is. There are some serious cultural differences between these two. What are some of the biggest roadblocks they face in their relationship?

Emma’s biggest roadblock is trying to protect herself. She’s carefully constructed this world she lives in to be compartmentalized, practical, and to suit the life she thinks she needs to rely on. Even though Rishi’s not out to get her professionally, she’s been taken advantage of before by male coworkers and she doesn’t want to let it happen again. For Rishi, the pressure to get married to a woman who will fit into the culture of his family is the biggest roadblock. His family depends on him, and their reference point for someone marrying outside their culture has caused so much heartache, it’s hard to get past that.

As much as they are different, Rishi and Emma have a lot in common — including their careers and their drive to succeed. What are some other similarities that you found when writing your hero and heroine?

Food is something that very much brings these two together. For Emma, growing up poor and with her grandmother, who had to work multiple jobs to support her, throughout her childhood she basically survived on canned food and hotdogs. So now that she’s out on her own, she relishes in amazing cuisine wherever she can get it. For Rishi, he is super passionate about the different varieties of Indian food, but his favorite is still what his mom cooks. He often serves as her culinary guide around Bangalore, and Emma helps him open his eyes to the food he’s been eating his entire life. That balance brings them together often, and how they are able to become friends—and more!

This is a very personal story to you—like Emma, you moved to India and had to adapt to your new environment. What are some customs that you liked the best? Which ones were more challenging for you?

When I first moved to India, and especially when interacting with my (now) husband’s family I was constantly trying to make sure I wasn’t offending anyone. In the US, we have one main gesture that is super offensive and it’s easy NOT to use it. In India, what you do with your hands and feet can be offensive, and so it’s more nuanced; there is a lot of using your right hand vs your left hand, not putting your feet towards someone, knowing when to take off your shoes, and that takes some constant reminding and getting used to. Oh, and eating with your hands. In the book, Emma feels like she looks like a toddler eating, and yeah, so do I!

My favorite customs are mostly around how in general, I think Indians cherish their traditions. Despite all the Western influence, it feels like people still care a lot about continuing to practice traditions of their family, religion, and heritage. Whether it’s the clothes people wear, the multitude of holidays, or the weddings chock full of ritual and customs, I think it’s amazing to take the time and intention to continue practicing those. I also really appreciate their reverence for elders. There is a lot of respect given to the wisdom and experience of older people in the culture that feels very different then how we often treat our elders in the US, for example.

Both you and your characters are very adventurous. What advice would you give to someone who is trying to make big decisions for their future?

If you want to try something that feels like it will challenge you (even if it’s scary!) do it! If you make a mistake you can always come back from it. Most of my regrets in life are because I didn’t do something, and it’s hard to recapture and relive those moments. I don’t have regrets on trying to do something new, like moving to another country or going on a safari in an open jeep with a lion five feet away (both scary and amazing). But I have regretted that trip I didn’t take, or words I didn’t say to someone. I think that’s one of my biggest life lessons.

Why is The Marriage Code the perfect book to introduce you to readers?
The Marriage Code is very personal to me because I wanted to write a book that echoed some of the experiences I had moving to India and meeting my husband. So if there is any kind of introduction to my writing and me, this is definitely a good one!

***

The Marriage Code Excerpt

Two cups of coffee. His laptop bag hung on one shoulder, threatening to slip off. His sunglasses fell from his head and teetered on the end of his nose as he approached the room. He tried to use his hip to push the handle down and splashed coffee on his jeans. He looked through the glass door. Emma was sitting there, laughing at him. 

“Help, please,” he said, a thread of irritation in his voice, through the practically soundproof glass. 

She made a big production of sighing and taking off her headphones and rolling her chair back inch by inch, the wheels moving as slowly as bad bandwidth. Yet the whole time, she was still smiling with complete amusement. 

She pulled open the door, her arm sliding up the edge and blocking his entrance to the room with her body. “Can I help you? I mean, you look like you need help.” 

“Uh, yeah. I got you a coffee. Apparently the last time I’ll do that. Take it.” He thrust it toward her. Now he could slide his sunglasses back on top of his head and save his suffering forearm from his laptop bag, which he was carrying like an old woman with an oversize purse. 

“Oh, why, thank you.” Her eyes lit up in surprise as she tasted the coffee, just a sip, and looked up at him through her eyelashes. He tried not to notice how cute she looked, her nose hidden inside the cup, inhaling the coffee. But puppy cute. Like a tiny stray he’d found outside his house who needed help. 

Rishi shook his head and glanced up at the projected screen. Now it was his turn to laugh. It reminded him of when his professor had once said, “Done code is better than perfect code.” This was definitely just done. 

“Wait, are these the bugs you’re trying to address? What is this code?”

“Look, I’m not an app developer, but I’ve been reading up.” She unplugged her monitor, like she could hide the evidence. “I told you I needed help.” 

“I’ll fix the bugs in the log. I think you should leave that to us app devs, honestly. You might break something.” 

“Oh? Well, hopefully I didn’t break your marriage code.” 

Sometimes she really exasperated him. “Emma, you can’t be perfect in every aspect.” 

She tilted her head and pursed her lips, doing that puppy thing again. Or maybe like her part-android brain couldn’t process what he’d said. 

He didn’t mean perfect in every aspect, of course. He shook his head. What was wrong with him? “I just meant you’re not an app developer. You’re good at web crawls, right? Desktop development? That’s more than most people can say.” 

She straightened up and typed on her laptop. “Well, I guess you’ll be the judge of that. Should I put the candidates for the future Mrs. Iyengar on the big screen?” She looked at him before plugging in the HDMI cable. 

He looked at the hall, still empty. Still way too early for anyone to be in here. “Sure. I’m ready for the big unveiling.” He took a deep breath and crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. Was he ready? What if it hadn’t worked? Or what if he felt insta-love just by looking at the screen? Should he pray or something before she showed him what the results had come up with? He’d practically promised his mom he would take care of it. That he could find “the one.” And after his conversation with Sudhar, one of these women had to work. 

Rishi’s feet tapped on the floor. Why was a sudden cocktail of impatience, dread, and curiosity swirling in his stomach? A perfect match could be presented to him in a few short seconds. Because if he knew anything about Emma Delaney, it was that she strove for perfection. 

And control. 

And with passion. 

If they really went on an Indian tour together, outside the confines of Bangalore’s best eateries, what would it be like? He’d have to show her the best things about the country he called home. Let her taste the coconut-seeped curries of Kerala. Visit a roadside dhaba in Punjab where the paneer melted on your tongue. Show her the famous Madurai temples in his hometown, but also his favorite Ganesh temple, the tiny one near his apartment. 

She’d have to see the flower vendors at Gandhi Bazaar, with their overflowing baskets of marigolds and roses, and eat chaat from his favorite cart in Vijayanagar. She’d take his India, place it in her mouth, and suck the joy of his country like a mango seed. 

And end the tour by seeing what other flavors they could search out in the curves of each other’s skin. 

What the hell was wrong with him? That couldn’t happen. Obviously, it couldn’t. And yet the thought snaked through him, a depraved viper swallowing his brain whole. He slumped over on the table, his elbow on the cold metal, his palm catching his forehead. 

“Are you okay?” Emma had pulled her laptop up and slid it over toward him. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just forgot something.” Like my mind

“Here you go.” 

Rishi took a deep breath.
***


Author Biography
:
Brooke Burroughs has worked in the IT industry for over ten years and lived in India—where she met her husband—for three. Burroughs has experience navigating the feeling of being an outsider in a traditional, orthodox family. Luckily, she and her in-laws get along well now, but maybe it’s because she agreed to a small South Indian wedding (with almost a thousand people in attendance) and already happened to be a vegetarian with an Indian food–takeout obsession.

Social Media Links:
Website: https://www.brookeburroughs.com/marriagecode 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/brookeburroughsauthor

Twitter: @brookebwrites

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20291854.Brooke_Burroughs


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Teetotaled by Maia Chance…Book Spotlight & Excerpt

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TEETOTALED

By National Bestselling Author Maia Chance

After her philandering husband died and left her penniless in Prohibition-era New York, Lola Woodby escaped with her Swedish cook to the only place she could¯her deceased husband’s secret love nest in the middle of Manhattan. Her only comforts were chocolate cake, dime store detective novels, and the occasional highball (okay, maybe not so occasional). But rent came due and Lola and Berta were forced to accept the first job that came their way, leading them to set up shop as private detectives operating out of Alfie’s cramped love nest.

Now Lola and Berta are in danger of losing the business they’ve barely gotten off the ground¯work is sparse and money is running out. So when a society matron offers them a job, they take it¯even if it means sneaking into a slimming and exercise facility and consuming only water and health food until they can steal a diary from Grace Whiddle, a resident at the “health farm.” But barely a day in, Grace and her diary escape from the facility¯and Grace’s future mother-in-law is found murdered on the premises. Lola and Berta are promptly fired. But before they can climb into Lola’s brown and white Duesenberg Model A and whiz off the health farm property, they find themselves with a new client and a new charge: to solve the murder of Grace’s future mother-in-law.

Teetotaled, Maia Chance’s sparkling new mystery will delight readers with its clever plotting, larger-than-life characters, and rich 1920s atmosphere.

 

 

Read on for a sneak peek of

The Discreet Retrieval Agency #2:

TEETOTALED

 

Everything in life that’s any fun, as somebody wisely observed, is either immoral, illegal or fattening. —P. G. Wodehouse

1

July 14, 1923

 

The afternoon Sophronia Whiddle offered us the diary job, it was so hot you could’ve sizzled bacon on the sidewalk. Which wasn’t a half bad idea, come to think of it, except that I was out of funds for bacon. I’d been living on shredded wheat for days. All right, hours.

My detecting partner Berta Lundgren and I were reading at the kitchen table in our poky little Washington Square apartment, waiting for the telephone to ring. Stagnant city air puffed in from the window. My Pomeranian, Cedric, panted in front of an electric fan. I yawned, and turned a page of the latest issue of Thrilling Romance.

“Mrs. Woodby, would it be remiss of me to suggest that you spend your leisure hours reading edifying publications?” Berta asked in her stern Swedish accent. She held up her book. Mexico City Mayhem, by Frank B. Jones, Jr. The cover depicted a man in a fedora wrestling a sinister-looking fellow in some sort of Aztec temple.

That is edifying?” I asked.

“Indeed. Thad Parker’s advice for decrypting ancient hieroglyphics could benefit our detective agency. Thrilling Romance is merely, well, pulp.”

“But Jake Cadwell, Wall Street tycoon, is about to propose marriage to innocent young Lucinda from the typing pool. It’s all she’s ever dreamed of.”

“I do realize you are pining for the absent Ralph Oliver—”

“Pining? What absolute hooey.”

“—but between you and me, Mrs. Woodby, if a man abruptly ceases to telephone, well, it is an indication that he has lost interest.”

“I don’t give a squirrel’s acorn about what Ralph Oliver may or may not be interested in. Besides, he’s on a job in Cuba.”

“If you say so.”

I gave Thrilling Romance a shake and resumed reading.

The clock ticked.

I looked up. “I happened to notice that you boing like a broken spring every time the telephone jingles.”

“I am hopeful for detective work.”

“Not hopeful that Jimmy the Ant wishes to squire you the movie palace?”

“Mr. Ant must keep a low profile for a time.”

“He’s hiding from the Feds, you know.”

Berta sent me a dirty look, patted her gray bun, and went back to her book.

Is this what had become of the newly-hatched Discreet Retrieval Agency? Two sweaty, bickering ladies waiting for ginky fellows to telephone?

We needed work.

A knock at the apartment door launched me to the little entry foyer. Berta wasn’t far behind. Cedric made a half-hearted yap but stayed in the kitchen. He had been lackluster lately because he was on strict kibble rations. If he didn’t slim down in time for his photograph session in two weeks, the people at Spratt’s Puppy Biscuits weren’t going to use him in their advertising campaign. Cedric’s career would be over before it began.

“You do not have shoes on, Mrs. Woodby,” Berta said. “If it is a client—”

“Oh, they’ll understand,” I said, and opened the door. At first it seemed that no one was there. Just the stairwell, stinking of mildew and fried onions. Then I noticed the snub-nosed five-year-old boy.

“Oh, hello, Sam,” I said. “What have you there?”

“Five cents, m’am,” Sam lisped. He held up a grubby nickel. “Ma said this is for finding Puffy.”

“Thanks awfully, Sam, but why don’t you keep your money? Tell your mother the job is on us. Puffy was only behind the water tank on the roof. He wasn’t really lost.”

“Okay, sure, thanks something fierce, Mrs. Woodby!” Sam pocketed the nickel and scampered up the stairs in the direction of his family’s third-floor apartment.

I shut the door and turned.

Berta blocked the foyer doorway like a daunting garden gnome. “This simply will not do,” she said.

“You’re preaching to the choir.”

“What has our commission been since we printed our business cards? Zilch.”

“Don’t remind me. I drank the last drop of whiskey last night. I’m now an unwilling teetotaler.”

We drifted back to the kitchen.

In the past month, our fledgling agency had solved a total of five cases: Disappearing milk bottles, nicked newspapers, two lost cats (including Puffy) and a spying endeavor involving the teenaged Martin Ulsky and his two-timing ways. The only payment we’d accepted was a set of Mrs. Bent’s hand-knitted egg cozies. The egg cozies were pretty cute.

“The rent will be due again,” Berta said.

“That’s the trouble with rent.”

“Perhaps we should take out a larger newspaper advertisement. I knew the one-and-a-half inch square would not attract enough notice.”

Another knock sounded on the door. Cedric didn’t bother yapping this time.

Berta and I locked desperate eyes.

“For pity’s sake, Mrs. Woodby, put on your shoes.”

Once I’d stuffed my feet into a pair of t-straps, Berta opened the door.

“I had almost decided that I had the wrong address,” a stout, elegant, middle-aged woman said. “But I see it is indeed you, Lola Woodby.” Her eyes flicked to Berta. “And . . . your cook?”

“Mrs. Lundgren used to be my cook,” I said. “How pleasant to see you, Mrs. Whiddle.” Seeing Sophronia Whiddle was about as pleasant as an ingrown toenail. Sophronia was not only a New York grande dame, but my own mother’s bosom friend. Mother, by the way, had no inkling that I’d gone into the gumshoe trade. I was supposed to be mourning my recently popped-off ball and chain, Alfie. But since Alfie had left me high and dry, I was no longer a pampered, thirty-one year old Society Matron. I was a working lady. At least, I was trying to be a working lady.

Sophronia did a once-over of my wrinkly, last-season dress, my mussed dark brown bob, and my wide mouth and blue eyes that I hadn’t spruced up with lipstick or mascara. I was conserving the last of my department store cosmetics.

“Might I come in?” Sophronia asked.

“Of course,” I said.

Berta and I led Sophronia through to the sitting room. I slid magazines and dime novels under a sofa cushion. I hid the dregs of last night’s highball behind knick-knacks on the mantel. “Please, sit,” I said.

Sophronia perched gingerly on the sofa as though she feared contracting a health concern. Which was indeed a faint possibility, given that this was Alfie’s former love nest. Untold cavortings with chorus girls had occurred on that sofa.

Berta and I sat in the two chairs facing the sofa.

“What brings you here, Mrs. Whiddle?” I asked. “I wasn’t aware that Mother knew of this address. Is it something to do with the Ladies’ Opera Society?”

“Your mother knows nothing of this, and she never shall.”

Oh, thank goodness.

Sophronia extracted a slip of newsprint from her handbag and unfolded it to reveal our advertisement. “‘The Discreet Retrieval Agency’? ‘No job too trivial’?”

“Oh. Right. Yes, that’s us,” I said. “You weren’t surprised to see us, yet our names aren’t on the advertisement. How did you know?”

“Does it matter? I have a job for you. I wish to keep the matter among the right sort of people, you see.” Sophronia folded the paper and replaced it in her handbag. “You must retrieve my daughter Grace’s diary.”

“Can’t you do that yourself?” I asked.

“No, no. Quite impossible. You see, Grace is a peculiar girl, an awkward wallflower, really, and although, alas, she is not terribly bright—she takes after her poor deceased father’s family in that regard—she has, since the age of ten, been a passionate diarist. Scribbles in it incessantly, keeps the back-logs locked in a small safe in her bedroom. She has always guarded her diary with an unbecoming ferocity.”

“Would you explain, Mrs. Whiddle?” Berta asked.

“Once when Grace was fourteen years old—she is nineteen now, you know—I was mildly concerned about her possible interest in a rather too forward grocer’s delivery boy. I wished to look into her diary to discover if I had any real reason to worry. Well, I attempted to take it from Grace while she was sleeping—she sleeps with it under her pillow—and she woke, raving and thrashing, and she bit me! It was terrifying, really.”

“Why do you wish for us to retrieve this diary?” I asked.

“Grace is to be married in eight days—surely you are aware of this, Mrs. Woodby. It is to be the society wedding of the summer. I believe I sent you an invitation months ago.”

“I’d plum forgotten,” I said.

“Grace is to marry Gilbert Morris—you do know the Morrises?”

I nodded. Winfield Morris, Gilbert Morris’s father, was not only a high-society fat cat but a New York state senator.

“Grace will not have another chance like this,” Sophronia said. “She is plump, you see, and she requires glasses. I fear there may be things in her past, recorded in the diary, that could jeopardize her marriage.”

“How do you propose that we retrieve the diary?” I asked.

“How? Well, I would assume that devising the how of the matter is your job, Mrs. Woodby.”

True. “From your house?”

“No, no. From the health farm. Grace is booked in for the week.”

“If your daughter is to be a bride,” Berta said, “why is she visiting a health farm?”

“To slim,” Sophronia said. “She will wear my own wedding gown and the seamstress has already let it out to its utmost capacity. I told Grace it was up to her to do the rest.”

“A nice strong girdle might do the trick,” I said.

Berta said, “In my village in Sweden, the plump girls were the most popular. Men prefer girls who are liberal with butter.”

Sophronia compressed her lipsticked mouth. “At any rate, while Grace is booked into Willow Acres Health Farm on Long Island—do you know it?”

I fell sideways in my chair. “No,” I lied.

“But I understand that your brother-in-law, Dr. Chisholm Woodby, is the owner and head doctor,” Sophronia said.

“Oh, that Willow Acres. Yes. I mean, no. I mean to say no, we simply can’t accept the job.”

“Of course we will accept the job,” Berta said, cutting me a death glare.

I got up and went to the window. I had to look like I was noodling profoundly, even if there wasn’t an ice cube’s chance in Hell that I would say yes. “The job will be compromised,” I said over my shoulder. “Not only are you, Mrs. Whiddle, my own mother’s friend, but Dr. Woodby would not be keen on me checking into his farm. We aren’t precisely pals.”

“We are a discreet agency, Mrs. Whiddle,” Berta said loudly, “and as such we select our cases with great care. . . .”

“Yes, of course,” Sophronia said. “You must discuss it in privacy. I’ll just go and fix my hat in the powder room.”

“Down the hallway on the right,” I said.

Berta and I waited until we heard the bathroom door shut.

“Are you mad, Mrs. Woodby?” Berta whispered. “We must take this job. We are nearly broke.”

“If my mother finds out about our agency, she’ll be angrier than a wet cat and she’ll do everything in her power to put an end to it. She will say I’m ruining the family’s social standing and Father’s Wall Street connections. That I’m crushing Andy’s and Lillian’s” —these were my siblings— “chances of being invited to play tennis with Vanderbilts and Rockefellers and, oh, I don’t know, the King of England. And she’d be correct.”

“Your mother will find out about our agency sooner or later.”

“Golly, I hope not. It’s grisly enough that I’m making a mess of my own life without bringing down my entire family. Anyway, Berta, what about Chisholm? If we go to his health farm, we’ll be at his mercy! I wonder what he does to his patients at that farm. I’d bet a million bucks that health bread has something to do with it.”

“Health bread?” Berta hesitated. “Well, it will only be for a day or two, surely.”

“There’s no guarantee of that.”

“If we are to make a go of this agency, we must do our utmost. Are you willing to do you utmost, Mrs. Woodby?”

Berta was right: I had to take the plunge. Say toodle-pip to my old life and take my future by the horns.

“Well?” Sophronia said, coming back into the sitting room. “If you don’t wish to accept the job, there is another agency that—”

“We’ll do it,” I said.

“I might rely upon your utmost discretion?”

“Of course,” I said, and Berta nodded.

We worked out all the details. Sophronia would pay for our stay at Willow Acres and we would endeavor to pry the diary from Grace Whiddle’s clutches posthaste. Once we delivered the diary to Sophronia at her Long Island estate, Clyde Bluff, we would collect our fee of five hundred clams.

The Discreet Retrieval Agency was back on its feet.

Q&A with Maia Chance – Teetotaled

  • Do you have a favorite cocktail? Oh yes! It’s a Prohibition-era one, too: The Last Word. It’s a tangy mix of gin, Chartreuse, maraschino liqueur, and lime juice.
  • What kind of research did you do for this book? I did quite a lot for Teetotaled, particularly researching health farms. It turns out that the 20’s were rife with weird health crazes. I also researched Yankee Stadium, ballroom dancing venues, Swiss finishing schools, wedding dress shops, and Coney Island. For researching the fine details of the historical environment—for instance cars, clothes, and houses—I use images. I love Pinterest for this.
  • How did you come up with the idea of the “health farm”? By imagining the absolute LAST place Lola and Berta would enjoy being J
  • Lola Woodby finds comfort in chocolate cake. What’s your favorite treat? Chocolate. I am right there with Lola on that one. Chocolate cake is great, but I prefer the unadulterated stuff.
  • If you could pick any decade to live in which one would you choose? That’s an interesting question. We tend to think of past decades as more innocent than our own, but I think human beings are always struggling with versions of the same problems. Researching Teetotaled, for example, I was reading about 1920s American politicians, and boy did they sound just like our contemporary politicians. But to answer your question, despite everything I’d say, if I could be a man, I’d pick the 1960s, but as a woman I’d choose the 21st
  • Do you have any special writing rituals? I often write standing up, and I take frequent breaks to get up and do weird little exercises (maybe I belong in a health farm). Unless I’m working at the coffee shop, of course. Don’t want to look like “that crazy lady,” you know.
  • What was the most difficult scene to write in Teetotaled? I’m not sure about a particular scene—Teetotaled was a hoot to write—but I do struggle a little with making sure that the sidekick Berta doesn’t steal the show.
  • What do you find most endearing about Lola Woodby? Lola gets set back and insulted quite a bit, and she just rolls with the punches. Least endearing? Sometimes she doesn’t say what’s on her mind when it comes to her personal relationships, which leads to misunderstanding.
  • What book is on your nightstand right now? The Big Fat Lie by Nina Teicholz. It’s the surprisingly intrigue-filled story of the demonization of dietary fat in the 20th Food history is one of my keen interests.
  • What’s in store next for the Discreet Retrieval Agency Mysteries? I’m just finishing up book #3 in the series, Gin and Panic. It’s shaping up to be a doozy J

 

About the author:

MAIA CHANCE writes historical mystery novels that are rife with absurd predicaments and romantic adventure. She is the author of the Fairy Tale Fatal series, The Discreet Retrieval Agency series and the Prohibition-era caper, Come Hell or Highball.  Her first mystery, Snow White Red-Handed, was a national bestseller. Maia lives in Seattle, where she shakes a killer martini, grows a mean radish, and bakes mocha bundts to die for. She is a Ph.D. candidate for English at the University of Washington.

 

Tough Luck Hero by Maisey Yates…Book Spotlight with author Q&A and excerpt

TLH

Synopsis:

Can the golden boy of Copper Ridge, Oregon, get a second chance at happy-ever-after?

Ranching heir Colton West knew his wedding would be the talk of the town. But he didn’t expect to get left at the altar—or to escape on the next flight to Vegas with Lydia Carpenter, the woman who gets under his skin like no one else. The only thing crazier than honeymooning with Lydia is waking up married to her. So why does he find himself entertaining his new wife’s desire to stay married—and fantasizing about a real wedding night?

As Copper Ridge’s prospective mayor, Lydia can’t risk a divorce scandal so close to election time. But pretending to be blissfully in love with her new husband is more confusing than she’d thought. For a man who’s always rubbed her the wrong way, Colton suddenly seems to know exactly what to do with his hands. And his lips. Now Lydia’s wildest mistake could turn out to be her luckiest move, if they’re both willing to take the ultimate gamble…

Excerpt:

Colton West couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten blackout drunk. Maybe college? Maybe. It was hard to say if in those scenarios he had passed out because of the alcohol or because they were still awake at five in the morning after some ridiculous party.

Though at none of those ridiculous parties had he married anyone.

And, judging by the messages overflowing his phone, he had gotten married last night.

Which wouldn’t be that weird since yesterday was supposed to be his wedding day. The weird part about it was that he had married a bridesmaid. Not the bride.

And not just any bridesmaid.

Lydia Carpenter.

There were three other bridesmaids. All of whom he was more likely to get drunk and marry in Vegas than Lydia. Or at least, he would have thought so if asked prior to his hasty Vegas marriage.

Actually, had he been asked prior to his hasty  Vegas marriage he would have said there was no way on earth he would ever get drunk and marry anyone spur of the moment. He was not a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy. Colton was a planner. Colton had never set one foot out of line.

After his older brother had taken off and completely abandoned the family, it had been up to Colton to establish himself as the likely heir to his father’s business. It had been up to him to be the son his father needed. And he had taken that duty very seriously.

Hell, the wedding yesterday was a prime example of that.

The wedding that had originally been scheduled, not the wedding that had ultimately taken place.

This was a nightmare. Unacceptable in every way.

So take it back.

It was the only thing to do. Unlike his brother, who had run when he didn’t want to deal with his life, and unlike his father, who had buried his mistakes, Colton would meet his head-on.

He looked up from his phone at his scowling—he winced—wife.

“Well, I can honestly say this is the last situation I ever expected to find myself in,” he said.

“No way,” she said. “You do not get to look this annoyed about the situation. This is your fault.”

“How is this my fault?”

“Granted my memory is questionable, but if I remember right, we were drinking in Ace’s. Then you were the one who suggested we go somewhere. You were the one who said you had the time off and wanted an escape. You are the one that facilitated the car to take us to the airport and said we needed to get a nonstop flight to somewhere that would be fun. And lo, we boarded a plane to Vegas.”

“At no point did you say no,” he said, wishing he could remember the events a little bit clearer. Maybe she had been hesitant. Maybe she had said no and he’d talked her into it.

But he was going to bluff his way straight through, dammit.

She folded her arms across her chest, crinkling the ridiculous lavender fabric of the bridesmaid dress she was wearing. One of Natalie’s choices. And honestly, he hadn’t cared. Not about the entire spectacle that she had put together with his mother from top to bottom. It hadn’t concerned him at all. The only thing that mattered to him was that Natalie was an appropriate choice. She’d been raised in a family like his. Highly visible in the community, with a lot of concern given to appearances. There were expectations placed on her as the daughter of the long-term mayor, and they matched the expectations placed on him. Plus, he was attracted to her. He liked her. A lot.

He’d liked her more before the wedding plans had started to get really intense. But, ultimately he had been confident in her as his choice of bride. So, the wedding had seemed like an incidental detail to him. Something that would have to take place to appease his mother, Natalie’s family and the populace of Copper Ridge, before he could get on with his life.

He hadn’t paid attention to things like bridesmaid dresses. And now he wondered if he hadn’t paid enough attention to Natalie, either. Well, obviously, since she had left him standing there at the altar without anything other than a quick apology text.

Actually, it hadn’t even really been an apology.

One line, obliterating a relationship that he had spent two years building. A relationship that was supposed to shore up the foundation of his life. And she’d just knocked it all down.

I can’t do this.

That was all she’d said. And he didn’t even get the message until later, after the ceremony that wasn’t. When he was already at Ace’s ordering the kind of hard liquor he never, ever drank in a public space. And definitely not to excess. Then Lydia had shown up.

Fast-forward a little bit—through scenes he couldn’t even remember—and here they were.

 

 

Q&A with Maisey Yates – Tough Luck Hero

 

  1. Is there anything in your new release based on real life experiences or purely all imagination? Well, I’m not in the habit of going to Vegas to get married, but I think there are always emotionally elements in my stories that I borrow from real life. Even if it’s just the feeling of wanting to feel successful, like Lydia. Or wanting to do the right thing for those around you, like Colton.
  1. The Cooper Ridge series always have beautiful covers, which one would you say is your favorite if you had to pick one? That is SO hard. But I do think my favorite cover is Tough Luck Hero. I wrote a whole scene into the book after seeing the cover, and it became one of my favorites, so that cover LITERALLY inspired some of the story. But it’s followed closely by Brokedown Cowboy and Last Chance Rebel!
  1. What was your favorite scene to write in Tough Luck Hero? There are a couple scenes between Lydia and Sadie, the heroine from Part Time Cowboy that I loved writing, because in Part Time Cowboy they both like the same guy, and in this book they’ve become friends, and I really like that progression. But mostly…Lydia and Colton getting it on on Lydia’s campaign pamphlets. That still makes me laugh.
  1. How much research goes into your books? I’m a big believer in Google As Needed. If I need to know something, I check into it, but I don’t do too much in depth research because then I feel like the temptation is to put too much information into the story, and it has the danger of overshadowing the romance.
  1. What’s your favorite love story? Fiction or non-fiction. That’s an incredibly tough question. Right now I think my favorite romance is Seduce Me at Sunrise by Lisa Kleypas.
  1. What are some of your favorites words and why? I think the word vole has great comedic properties. It’s both an adorable mammal and an unexpected word choice. And yes, I find reasons to use it in books often.
  1. How important are names to you in your books? Do you choose the names based on liking the way it sounds or the meaning? In a long running series names are a whole thing. Some people who were background characters end up coming to the forefront, and they’re already named and not necessarily possessing a name I would have chosen if I’d created them thinking they would get their own book. Then with the sibling groups I want them to sound like they were all named by the same parents. I tend to go with sound over meaning, except in rare cases.
  1. If you had your own talk show, who would your first three guests be? Dierks Bentley, Sam Hunt and Chase Rice. That was way too easy.
  1. What are you working on now? What is your next project? Right now I’m wrapping up my next Copper Ridge Desire, then I’m moving on to another full length Copper Ridge novel. The hero in this one is a single dad, and I’m excited to write that since it’s something I haven’t done in this series yet.
  2.  Any fun summer plans? I’ll be at RWA in San Diego in July, and on the way there I’m stopping at Disneyland which is definitely MY happiest place on earth. I can’t wait!

 

 

About the author:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Maisey Yates lives in rural Oregon with her three children and her husband, whose chiseled jaw and arresting features continue to make her swoon. She feels the epic trek she takes several times a day from her office to her coffee maker is a true example of her pioneer spirit. In 2009, at the age of twenty-three Maisey sold her first book.

Since then it’s been a whirlwind of sexy alpha males and happily ever afters, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Maisey divides her writing time between dark, passionate category romances set just about everywhere on earth and light sexy contemporary romances set practically in her back yard.

She believes that she clearly has the best job in the world.

Find out more on her website

Lone Heart Pass by Jodi Thomas…Author Q&A

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LONE HEART PASS

By New York Times Bestselling Author

Jodi Thomas

With a career and a relationship in ruins, Jubilee Hamilton is left reeling from a fast fall to the bottom. The run-down Texas farm she’s inherited is a far cry from the second chance she hoped for, but it and the abrasive foreman she’s forced to hire are all she’s got.

Every time Charley Collins has let a woman get close, he’s been burned. So Lone Heart ranch and the contrary woman who owns it are merely a means to an end, until Jubilee tempts him to take another risk—to stop resisting the attraction drawing them together despite all his hard-learned logic.

Desperation is all young Thatcher Jones knows. And when he finds himself mixed up in a murder investigation, his only protection is the shelter of a man and woman who—just like him—need someone to trust.

Author Q&A:

  1. What barbeque meal would you pair with Lone Heart Pass?

Ribs, of course, with potato salad made with mustard, and cowboy beans warmed with chili and peppers.

  1. If you didn’t write romance series, what type of genre would you enjoy writing next?  I think it would be fun to write children’s books.  I have a great time telling  my grandchildren stories.  One they love is Pete the Pirate.  I made him up.  He was hit in the head once and talks backwards.  They always giggle and guess what he’s trying to say.
  1. Which book cover out of the Ransom Canyon series would you say is your favorite?  When I first saw the first book RANSOM CANYON I loved it more than I’ve ever love a cover and then the next one, RUSTLER’S MOON came, then LONE HEART PASS.  Every time I think it’s better.  But, if I had to pick a favorite, it would be the next one SUNRISE CROSSING.
  1. What are three things from your bucket list you still would like to cross off?  Last month I took a boat through the Everglades in Florida and saw the lights come on at dust at the Eifel Tower, so my list was shortened in March.  I’d like to go to Israel.  I’d love to see the Northern Lights.  And, I’d love to see one of my books become a movie.
  1. Out of all your books, which one would you love to see become a book to movie adaptation?  I think LONE HEART PASS would make a great movie.  It’s got a handsome hero, a crazy heroine, and a great love story.
  1. For someone who has never been to Texas, what are some of the must-sees of the lone star state?  We’ve got everything in Texas, it’s just a few hundred miles apart.  My favorites are:

Big Ben National Park in the south,

the San Antonio Riverwalk when it lights up at Christmas,

the Hill Country down by Fredericksburg where bluebonnets take your breath away this time of year.

Palo Duro Canyon in the winter when snow dusts the red rocks across the formations called the Spanish Skirts

  1. Do you travel for ideas when writing a book? If so, where do you tend to go?  I see stories everywhere I go.  Most of all, they come to me when I ‘walk the land’.  Sometimes ideas come to me when I hear a phrase or listen to a song or see how people interact.  Last month I went out on a ranch that helps horses and ‘walked with the herd’.  There was a peace to it that I hadn’t expected.
  1. You are stranded on an island with only three books, which ones would you choose?  I don’t know.  Three I haven’t read.
  1. What is the most important thing that people don’t know about your writing that they need to know?  They may not know that my characters come alive to me.  By the time I’m five chapters into a book I stop calling them characters and call them people or by name.  Sometimes it like I’m walking beside them through the plot.

I always laugh and say my sons are worried that I might just forget and accidentally name one in the will.

  1. How do you feel about eBooks vs. print books?  I read them both.  I love the feel of a book in my hands but I love packing a dozen eBooks in my suitcase when I leave on a trip.  Both have their place and I find myself reading more books than ever.
  1. What are you working on next?  I’m just starting what will be book five of RANSOM CANYON.  It starts out making me smile because I’ve grown to love the little town of Crossroads and the people.

 

 

Praise for Jodi Thomas

“It is Thomas’s understanding of the Texas spirit infused in her story that deeply touches readers’ hearts and souls.”

RT Book Reviews

“Jodi Thomas is a masterful storyteller. She grabs your attention on the first page, captures your heart, and then makes you sad when it is time to bid her characters farewell. You can count on her to give you a satisfying and memorable read.”—Catherine Anderson, NYTbestselling author

“When it comes to providing a rich backdrop of historical flavor with a beautiful love story, author Jodi Thomas certainly has cornered the market.”The Romance Reviews

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

A fifth-generation Texan, JODI THOMAS sets the majority of her novels in her home state. Thomas is a marriage and family counselor by education, with a background that enables her to write about family dynamics. Honored in 2002 as a Distinguished Alumni by Texas Tech University in Lubbock, Thomas enjoys interacting with students on the West Texas A & M University campus, where she currently serves as Writer in Residence. When not working on a novel or inspiring students to pursue a writing career, Thomas enjoys traveling with her husband, Tom, renovating a historic home they bought in Amarillo, and “checking up” on their two grown sons.

 

 

Outlaw Cowboy by Nicole Helm…Book Spotlight and Author Guest Post

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Title: Outlaw Cowboy

Author: Nicole Helm

Series: Big Sky Cowboys, #2

Pubdate: May 3rd, 2016

ISBN: 9781492621270

BIG SKY TROUBLE

Ever since his father’s accident, Caleb Shaw vowed he’d mend his wild ways, and he means to keep his word. He’s a changed man. A better man. And he knows he should want absolutely nothing to do with his crazy old life…or the maddening temptation that is Delia Rogers.

Because Delia? Is nothing but trouble.

Delia’s been stealing her sisters away from their violent father ever since she was old enough to fight back. But now with the police on her trail and all her bridges burned, there’s nowhere left to run but back into the arms of the one cowboy she knows she shouldn’t need. Caleb has always been too good for her, no matter how bad he claimed to be. Yet when close quarters turn into something more, Delia and Caleb are forced to decide what really matters: mending their reputations or healing their wary hearts…

 

What are your Top 5 must haves for writing?

As a mom of two young kids, the wife of a man with a very non-traditional work schedule, and just someone who isn’t very good at following a rigid schedule, writing for me happens whenever and wherever it needs to. I don’t have much of a ritual, or ‘must-haves’ for writing.

However, there are certain things that get me in the mood to write, or help me focus when I have such luxury.

First, I make a Spotify soundtrack for each book I’m working on. It helps set the mood, and then if I’m switching between edits on one book and writing another, as I am often doing, switching soundtracks helps me immediately get into the right headspace. In fact, if you have spotify, you can listen to OUTLAW COWBOY’s soundtrack here. It’s heavy on the Dierks Bentley, as so many of my soundtracks are.

Second, I always have a Pinterest board for each book. In the beginning, it usually helps orient me, helps me decide how I want the characters, houses, settings to look. As I’m writing, I often go back to the Pinterest board if I’m stuck, hoping it will spark an idea. I’ve actually written a lot of scenes that were inspired by happening upon a random pin. In fact, in OUTLAW COWBOY both Delia’s engraving on the bottom of her boot, and Rose’s engraving on her gun were inspired by Pins I found. If you’re interested in the OUTLAW COWBOY Pinterest board, you can find it here.

Third, well I mean I have to have my computer (that should probably have come first) to do all of these things. I never write by hand anymore. Sometimes I will plot on pen and paper (when desperate measures are needed), but everything I do is typed. First drafts, edits, what have you, I have become so computer oriented that I recently wrote a letter to my grandparents and it was nearly illegible as it had been FOREVER since I’d had to hand write anything. I can type much faster than I can handwrite, and I can dictate even faster than I type, which is how I’ve been writing books lately. So, Mr. Computer is most important in the must haves, that’s for sure.

Fourth, in the world of beverages, I am a caffeine queen. If it’s morning, I usually have a mug of coffee at my elbow, and if it’s afternoon, I’ll have a can of pop/soda/whatever you call it. Usually it’s a Coke, and it is what gets me through the afternoon.

Lastly, my deep dark probably not at all secret is that, although I like chocolate, it’s not my go to writing snack like it is for so many romance writers. I love fruity candy—Starburst, Skittles (greens picked out), Jolly Ranchers (no watermelon, please!), Nerds, Twizzlers, Now and Laters, it’s a sad day indeed if I’m out of my favorite candy. (There may be a mountain of Starburst wrappers at my elbow as I type because, even though it’s morning, mentioning candy necessitates eating it). I even had a candy bar at my wedding, as my love of candy is known far and wide. I can tell you far too much about the way different candies have changed their colors over the years (RIP lime Skittles, Lifesavers, and lemon Jolly Ranchers).

Also, a shout out to my bed, where I can curl up and happily work when my husband is on day shift and my kids are at school. A truly important must-have runner up.

 

Nicole Helm writes down-to-earth contemporary romance specializing in people who don’t live close enough to neighbors for them to be a problem. When she’s not writing, she spends her time dreaming about someday owning a barn. She lives with her husband and two young sons in O’Fallon, Missouri. 

Visit Nicole’s website for more down-to-earth contemporary romance!

 

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Ma67gF

Apple: http://apple.co/1owf0Wp

BAM: http://bit.ly/1V5eg8T

B&N: http://bit.ly/1RACCVp

Chapters: http://bit.ly/1PQLUHm

Indiebound: http://bit.ly/1q1j2XN

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1Yc5aoG

 

 


Mr and Mrs by Alexia Riley…Blog Tour Stop & Author Interview

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Synopsis:

Welcome to Alexa Riley Promises. This series is dedicated to old romances. It’s tropes galore, with all of our usual over-the-top alphas and sweet cheesy goodness.

These short books will focus on traditional and classic tropes while sticking to the Alexa Riley code: no cheating and always with an HEA. That’s our Promise to you.

 

Mr and Mrs:

Phillip has been married to Molly for a year. He’s beyond obsessed with his new wife, to the point that he has to hold his true feelings back. If she knew how crazy he is for her, she might push him away.

Molly is feeling distance growing between them, and she’s worried she’s not enough. One night she walks in on Phillip, and it changes everything.

When Phillip discovers Molly was in an accident and now has amnesia, he’s going to do all he can to make her fall in love with him again. Holding nothing back this time.
Warning: It’s just as crazy as it sounds and just as over-the-top ridiculous. If you want to get silly with us and spend a little time away from reality, grab this one up!

 

Review:

As promised, Mr and Mrs delivers on everything you loved about old-school romances. I mean, we have a secret baby, amnesia, a big misunderstanding, and, last but not least, a bona fide happily ever after. It is unapologetically cheesy – my second favorite thing about Alexa Riley books. The first is the filthy talk in bed or wherever else Alexa Riley characters get it on.

Molly and Phillip have been married for one year, but Molly senses that something isn’t right. She takes off when THE BIG MISUNDERSTANDING happens and Phillip goes balls to the wall to find her and bring her back. Except there’s an accident and Molly has amnesia. Phillip vows to make her fall in love with him all over again and he won’t hold back how obsessed and crazy he is for her.

Everything else happened in a blur. When I came flying into the hospital making my demands, they’d tried to keep her from me. They were lucky she was in the hospital or I would have burned the motherfucker to the ground just to prove how serious I was about getting to her.

It didn’t take long before they got the point and attitudes started to change. I don’t like to push power and money around on people, but in this case I just couldn’t bring myself to care. There wasn’t a goddamn thing I wouldn’t have done in that moment to get to her.

This book was a blast and I loved every over-the-top and crazy minute of it. It was like an x-rated version of a soap opera come to life.

4LovesRLB

Four Loves

Stacey Sig

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Interview:

Mr and Mrs was chock-full of romance tropes, the kind that people who don’t read the genre usually cite as examples of why they’re dismissive of romance novels and authors. Did you set out to make a statement with this book? Funnily enough, no. We’ve never set out to make a statement. It was more of a homage to all the old tropey books we loved and a fun way to be silly. This book was so much fun to write and an incredible way to pay respect to all the classics before us.

I love how you unabashedly embrace romance clichés. I guess that’s not really a question, I just wanted to get that out there. You’re adorable.

I haven’t read all of your books (yet), but those I have read are all first person POVs from both hero and heroine. Does one of you always write the female POV and vice versa? We use to be strictly one person writes one PoV and one person does the next. But as time has gone on we blend more. Normally Lea (Alexa) does the males and Mel (Riley) does the females. But we’ve found out after two years that we enjoy changing it up. And it’s fun to see if readers can feel our individual voices coming through each character.

Tell me about an upcoming project that you’re really excited about. We are really really really excited about a book we have planned for next year. We’ve been picked up by a publisher for this one so we are making it nice and thick (slow wink). Can’t wait for everyone to get all the details! But in upcoming news we have a LOT planned for books and signings this summer. Stay tuned!

Funnily enough, no. We’ve never set out to make a statement. It was more of a homage to all the old tropey books we loved and a fun way to be silly. This book was so much fun to write and an incredible way to pay respect to all the classics before us.

 

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Visit the author website to learn more! 

 

 

Midnight in Berlin by James MacManus..Blog Tour Stop and Author Q&A

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Midnight in Berlin, by James MacManus a summary

This is a historical novel which tells a story of love and betrayal in the dark heart of Berlin on the eve of the Second World War. The book is based on the true story of the plan by a British diplomat to assassinate Hitler in March 1939.

Colonel Noel Macrae, a decorated veteran and an excellent shot, arrives in Berlin as military attaché at the British embassy in 1938. He quickly realises what western governments refused to accept; that Hitler is bent on war and that the West’s appeasement policy, always a failure, had now become an actual incentive for conflict.

Macrae argues that only pre-emptive action against the Nazi regime can forestall a new European war. In a breath-taking departure from the moral and diplomatic code of the day, he proposes to assassinate Hitler on his 50th birthday, April 20th 1939. Macrae’s apartment is only 100 metres from the reviewing stand in central Berlin where Hitler takes the salute on his birthday. It would be an easy shot.

The novel recounts the British government’s rejection of the plan because “it would not be sportsmanlike behaviour.” The Gestapo’s aware only of Macrae’s hostility attempts to compromise the military attaché and force his dismissal. The secret police runs a brothel in Berlin disguised as a smart restaurant called the Salon Kitty.

The leading lady is Jewish, Sara Sternschein, personally chosen for her role by the satanic Gestapo chief, Reinhard Heydrich. The use of a Jewish courtesan greatly increases the Gestapo’s powers of blackmail. Macrae is taken to the Salon Kitty under false pretences one night, meets Sara and the two begin an affair.

As the world moves towards war in the spring of 1939, the novel tracks the blind diplomacy of West, the unfolding affair between Macrae and Sternschein and the attaché’s final desperate attempt to defy his government kill the German Fuhrer in order to avert a global conflict.

Who Was Colonel Macrae?

The character is based on the actual British military attaché in Berlin in 1938-39, Colonel Noel Mason-MacFarlane. He did indeed propose the assassination of Hitler and argued that in the aftermath the Nazi regime would be swept from power by a military coup. The proposal went as high as the Foreign Secretary, Lord Halifax who said, in March 1939:”We have not yet reached a stage in our relations with Germany when we need to substitute assassination for diplomacy.”

As a result Mason-Macfarlane was removed from Berlin and sent back to a desk job in England. He died in 1953 at the early age of 63.

 

Who was William Shirer?

With Ed Murrow, Shirer was one of the most famous US correspondents of the WW2 era. He was CBS European Bureau Chief based in Berlin in the late 1930s and reported on the rise of Nazi Germany. He stayed in Berlin when war broke out and   followed German armies in their blitzkrieg across the Holland, Belgium and France in the summer of 1940. Censorship and the attentions of the Gestapo forced him to leave Germany at the end of 1940.

Ed Murrow was both a mentor and friend to Shirer but the two men fell out after the war in a broadcasting dispute which resulted in Shirer leaving CBS. As a journalist, Shirer’s reputation rests on his pre-war reporting from Berlin but as an author he is better known for his best-selling and widely praised book, The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, published in 1960.Shirer died in 1993 aged 89.

Why is World War 2 so intriguing for a novelist?

Firstly because of the colossal characters involved: Hitler, Churchill, Roosevelt and Stalin painted in vivid colours on a global canvas and changed the history of the 20th century. Those leaders cast long shadows and we feel their presence still. Think what Shakespeare would have done with such men. Secondly, the privations and horrors of wartime allow writers to strip characters to their essence revealing their real emotions at times of danger, sadness or joy.

Thirdly, there is a continuing public fascination with the period; the horrors of Nazi Germany, the insane delusions of Hitler, the ghastly fate of the Jews and other victims amount to a purity of evil which we find impossible to fully understand and for that reason strangely compelling.

Then there is the righteous heroism of the allied forces, principally British and American, whose courage and endurance won the war for the forces of freedom. That is a great morality tale with a strong narrative that conveys a very powerful message. Readers and listeners from the dawn of storytelling like to be told that good does triumph over evil, however fierce the battle.

 

About the author:

JAMES MACMANUS is the managing director of The Times Literary Supplement. He is the author of Ocean Devil, which was made into a film starring Jonathan Rhys Meyers. His other novels include The Language of the Sea and Black Venus. www.jamesmacmanus.com

 

Allan Topol, author of The Italian Divide…author Q&A

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Allan Topol, The Italian Divide Q&A

  • How and why did you first start working on The Italian Divide?

Several years ago, my wife and I took a trip to Italy—purely vacation.  I had no intention of writing a novel about Italy.  However, I became enamored with this exotic country and intrigued by its politics, its regional differences, and the economic problems that it faced.  I decided then to write a novel using Italy as the backdrop.  As a result, I did extensive research in the US, both on the internet and in the library.  Then I made several more trips to Italy to develop the factual background and make sure all of the site descriptions were accurate.

  • What was your inspiration for this story in particular? For Craig’s story and character in general?

Craig Page is my fantasy character.  Living in Washington, I have gotten to know a number of people working in US intelligence agencies as well as the intelligence agencies of foreign governments.  While I have worked as a lawyer and written novels, I have fantasized about being a top secret agent myself.  In developing Craig Page, I had an opportunity to bring those fantasies into play and to create a character who doesn’t tolerate bureaucrats; doesn’t suffer fools; and is willing to take risks to accomplish his objectives.  Craig is also someone who has a sense of fairness and justice.  The Italian banker murdered at the beginning of the book was Craig’s friend and the financial benefactor for Craig’s racing.  Craig is determined to find out who was responsible for this banker’s death.

  • Much of The Italian Divide’s plot involves international banking. What gave you the idea to combine an international spy novel with this specific topic, which many readers might not know too much about?

I happened to read in a newspaper article about Chinese investors taking over some Italian banks which were vulnerable financially.  I thought this was an intriguing fact and could be worked into a novel because the Chinese are in fact attempting to gain a foothold in various parts of the world, including western Europe.  I recognized there were some risks utilizing international banking because readers might not know much about this subject.  However, I thought it would be good to inform readers while keeping the banking discussion quite short and clear so that it did not confuse readers, but merely informs them.

Similarly, I wanted to inform and educate my readers about the political situation in Italy and specifically about the differences and conflicts between the north and the south in Italy.  Those differences and conflicts are real.  The country was not unified until 1861 and the differences persist.  Again, I wanted to educate and inform my readers while not taking away from the story.  After all, The Italian Divide is meant to be a fast moving, entertaining suspense story, and I have been careful to avoid letting it get bogged down in factual details.

I have also been careful to make certain that The Italian Divide, while it is the fifth novel involving Craig Page and Elizabeth Crowder, is also very much a stand-alone book.  The reader will not have to have read any earlier book in order to fully understand this one.

  • The novel takes place in a bunch of locations all over the world – Italy, China, and the USA. How many of these places have you actually visited?

I have visited all of the places in the novel.  I have eaten in all of the restaurants and drank all of the wines.  My objective in the book is to describe those places with sufficient detail that the reader will feel as if he or she is there.  And at the same time not have too much description that slows down the flow of the novel.

  • The book reads very cinematically. Do you write like that on purpose, or is that just the way it comes out?

People have always told me that my books read very cinematically, including producers and agents in Hollywood with whom I am working to try to get some of the books developed into movies or a television series.  I don’t write that way on purpose.  It’s just my style of writing.

  • Are there any other genres of writing you’ve wanted to try, or are you a thriller mystery writer through and through?

While I am a thriller writer, I view myself as writing in a special niche of that genre.  Specifically, I am writing a geo political thriller which weaves in history and current affairs.  As a result, my books are not the standard thriller mystery books.  They all have this strong international component.

  • When did you know you wanted to be a writer? How did you get into it?

I’ve always wanted to be a writer from the time I was in high school and college.  I didn’t take any writing courses, but I did have a writing tutor in college. I was fortunate when I wrote my first novel to find an editor at William Morrow who liked the book and was interested in publishing it.

  • What are you currently reading?

Books on history and current events (particularly involving Russia) which I am planning to use for a future novel.

  • Can you tell us anything about your next project?

After the commercial success of The Washington Lawyer, I decided to write a sequel to that book.  However, I wanted it to be sufficiently different, so I took Kelly Cameron, a young FBI agent, who had only a cameo role in The Washington Lawyer, and made her into the protagonist of my next novel.

  • What’s one thing you want readers to take away from The Italian Divide?

I would like them to take away an understanding of the history, current political situation, and economic risks that confront this wonderful and exotic country of Italy.

 

 

About The Italian Divide:

When prominent Italian banker Frederico Castiglione is murdered in an apparent jewelry robbery gone wrong, things are not what they seem. Former CIA Director Craig Page is enjoying his new life as Italian race car driver Enrico Marino but when he hears that his friend and sponsor has been found dead, he suspects foul play. Shortly after Castiglione s death, Italian banker Andrew Goldoni is asked to sell or else. When he refuses, his daughter goes missing.

Craig embarks on an investigation to solve the riddles underlying Castiglione s murder and rescue Goldoni s daughter, but the pieces don t quite fit. The murderers are Russian, but the takeovers are based in China, and somehow Roberto Parelli, the Italian separatist candidate for President, is involved.

With the help of Elizabeth Crowder, CIA director Betty Richards, and director of EU Counter Terrorism Giuseppe, Craig discovers a complicated web of mysterious political and financial takeovers across Italy, all linked back to Craig s sworn enemy, Zhou Yun, and Roberto Parelli.

In “The Italian Divide “loyalties lie deep, dangerous alliances are made to be broken, and organized crime is omnipotent. Allan Topol s latest Craig Page thriller is an electrifying foray into the world of international intrigue. Against blackmail, extortion, and treason, can Craig Page still prevail?

Book Links:

Amazon  | B&N  |  Goodreads

About the author:

Allan TopolAllan Topol is the national bestselling author of twelve novels of international intrigue, including Spy Dance. His novels have been translated into Chinese, Japanese, Portuguese, and Hebrew. He is a graduate of Carnegie Institute of Technology, who majored in chemistry, abandoned science, and obtained a law degree from Yale University. A partner in a major Washington law firm, and an avid wine collector, he has traveled extensively, researching dramatic locations for his novels. You can join him on Facebook. Please let him know if you would like to receive his free newsletter. Allan is available for speaking opportunities on subjects of international affairs, dealt with in his novels.

 


That One Moment by Amy Daws….Cover Reveal

Title: That One Moment
Author: Amy Daws
iTunes Exclusive Release Date: April 5, 2016
Release Date: April 12, 2016
Find on Goodreads
Life is a series of reoccurring ripples in time.
The moment I saw her…something shifted. 
The moment my lips touched hers…life got messy.
The moment my heart got involved…everything changed.
Vi Harris tests every bit of my strength. 
She is my test.
My challenge.
At a time when I should be focusing entirely on myself, this radiant woman with a bright, cheeky smile and a cracked sense of humor waltzes in and spins everything on its axis.
Vi has the potential to make me weak at a time when I’m determined to show everyone just how bloody strong I am.
She’s everything I am not…yet somehow, she sees through my darkness.
My pain.
My despair.
She doesn’t see me as broken.
She sees me as the man I’m fighting so hard to be. 
The man that I’m still struggling to see myself.
The follow up book to Not The One: Hayden’s Story
Not The One – Released Dec 7, 2015
As the only survivor of a rare birth, Reyna Miracle has never felt like she belonged. When a horrible tragedy strikes during her graduate courses at Oxford, she spirals down a dark and sexy path with Hayden, her deceased best friend’s brother. But when Liam Darby, a mistake from her past reappears, Reyna’s world begins to crumble as the two men fight for a love that she can’t even accept for herself.
Q: Talk to me about your cover! Who designed it? 
A: I did! I do all my own covers actually. And the photographer is my sister-in-law. And the models are just some people we know! Neither are professional models and that is one of my most favorite things about all of my covers. I joke because the guy on the cover is my best friend’s brother and she loves my books. I was afraid putting him on the cover would lose me a fan! LOL. But she says she’s still 100% reading it and just planning to visualize her own Hayden and most certainly not her brother! HA! 
Q: Who is Hayden? 
A: Hayden Clarke…sigh. I think I fell in love with him more than I thought possible during the process of writing this book. Hayden was sort of the broken anti-hero of my last release, Not The One. And he’s by far my most requested book to date. The hype for his story has been intense. Readers need his HEA and I seriously can barely speak of the story to them without squealing. He’s wormed his way into my heart and I hope I did this magnificent man justice or my readers will have my hide!  
Q: What can you tell us about That One Moment? 
A: Well, the story starts exactly one year after a pretty intense day for Hayden in Not The One, so I really dig where he’s at mentally throughout the whole book. He’s still dealing with a lot of what he went through, but you get glimpses of some normalcy for him, so you get to know the TRUE Hayden…who is hot…and a bit of a freak between the sheets! ☺ 
Q: Is it a sexy romance? 
A: Yes, but it’s a slow burn, which is different for me…but it had to be for Hayden. He needs to take his time and not rush into anything or it wouldn’t be believe or smart. 
Q: Okay, be honest…you’re known for feeding on the tears of your readers. How many boxes of tissues should they have on hand? 
A: A lot. LOL. I mean…I don’t know how they expect me to write Hayden’s story without some emotion. But I think they’ll be surprised at how much they smile too. Hayden isn’t all dark and gloomy. He’s sexy and funny and all man. This won’t just be a cry-fest. I promise! 
Q: Can That One Moment be read as a standalone? 
A: Yes! I’m happy to tell you, yes. It has been tested and approved. There’s no cliffy. It’s solid on it’s own. Though I do think readers will enjoy it more if they read Not The One first. And Not The One is officially book 1 in my Lost in London Series with That One Moment being book 2. If they really want more backstory on some secondary characters, they should check out my London Lovers Series too. I love my little London family over there! 
Q: What’s next? 
A: More books! I have some secret projects I’m working on. One is another series entirely and another is the third book to the Lost in London Series that I can’t tell you about yet! ☺ 
Q: Is it Frank? It has to be the fantastic gay ginger’s turn for a story, right? 
A: It’s not Frank…not yet. I’m not closing the door on that bloke, but he’s gotta be patient. Saving the best for last!  
Q: Why oh why are you releasing one week early on iBooks and torturing all of us Kindle readers? 
A: LOL! I’m sorry! I have a great iBooks family over there and they are wonderful to work with. I will have preorder links for all retailers up soon though, I promise. 
Q: Okay fine…I’ll just be patient then. Thanks for stopping by. 
A: Thanks for having me!!!
Amy Daws is a commercial producer and lives in South Dakota with her husband and daughter. The long-awaited birth of Lorelei is what inspired her passion for writing. Amy is a lover of all things British and her award-nominated romantic comedy series, The London Lovers Series, is centered around Americans in London. It’s emotional and self-deprecating with lots of humor sprinkled in. On most nights, you can find Amy and her family dancing to Strawberry Shortcake’s theme song or stuffing themselves inside children’s-sized playhouses because there is nothing they wouldn’t do for their little miracle.

Amy Daws – That One Moment Reveal

 

Beauty, Beast, and Belladonna by Maia Chance…Book Spotlight and Author Q&A

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BEAUTY, BEAST, AND BELLADONNA

by Maia Chance

Amazon  |  B&N

Synopsis:

Variety hall actress Ophelia Flax has accepted the marriage proposal of the brutish Comte de Griffe to nettle her occasional investigative partner—and romantic sparring partner—the pompous if dashing Professor Penrose.

But the Comte’s boorish table manners, wild mane of hair, and habit of prowling away the wee hours has shredded Ophelia’s last nerve. She intends to disengage from her feral fiancé at his winter hunting party—until Penrose, his lovely new fiancée, and a stagecoach of stranded travelers arrive at the Comte’s sprawling château. Soon she can’t tell the boars from the bores.

When one of the guests is found clawed and bloody in the orangerie, Ophelia is determined to solve the murder before everyone starts believing the local version of Beauty and the Beast. But until the snows melt, she can’t trust her eyes—or her heart—since even the most civilized people hold beastly secrets.

 

Excerpt:

Ophelia meant to cling to her purpose like a barnacle to a rock.  It wasn’t easy.  Simply gritting her teeth and enduring the next two weeks was not really her way.  But Henrietta had her up a stump.

First, there had been the two-day flurry of activity in Artemis Stunt’s apartment, getting a wardrobe ready for Ophelia to play the part of a fashionable heiress at a hunting party.  Artemis was over fifty years of age but, luckily, a bohemian and so with youthful tastes in clothing.  She was also tall, beanstalkish and large-footed, just like Ophelia, and very enthusiastic about the entire deception.  “It would make a marvelous novelette, I think,” she said to Ophelia.  But this was exactly what Ophelia wished to avoid: behaving like a ninny in a novelette.

And now, this interminable journey.

“Where are we now?”  Henrietta, bundled in furs, stared dully out the coach window.  “The sixth tier of hell?”

Ophelia consulted the Baedeker on her knees, opened to a map of the Périgord region.  “Almost there.”

There being the French version of the Middle of Nowhere,” Forthwith Golden said, propping his boots on the seat next to Henrietta.  “Why do these Europeans insist upon living in these Godforsaken pockets?  What’s wrong with Paris, anyway?”

“You said you missed the country air.”  Henrietta shoved his boots off the seat.

“Did I?”  Forthwith had now and then performed conjuring tricks in Howard DeLuxe’s Varieties back in New York, so Ophelia knew more of him than she cared to.  He was dark-haired, too handsome, and skilled at making things disappear.  Especially money.

“You insisted upon coming along,” Henrietta said to Forthwith, “and don’t try to deny it.”

“Ah, yes, but Henny, you neglected to tell me that your purpose for this hunting excursion was to ensnare some doddering old corpse into matrimony.  I’ve seen that performance of yours a dozen times, precious, and it’s gotten a bit boring.”

“Oh, do shut up.  You’re only envious because you spent your last penny on hair pomade.”

“I hoped you’d notice.  Does Mr. Larsen have any hair at all?  Or does he attempt to fool the world by combing two long hairs over a liver-spotted dome?”

“He’s an avid sportsman, Artemis says, and a crack shot.  So I’d watch my tongue if I were you.”

“Oh dear God.  A codger with a shotgun.”

“He wishes to go hunting in the American West.  Shoot buffalos from the train and all that.”

“One of those Continentals who have glamorized the whole Westward Ho business, not realizing that it’s all freezing to death and eating Aunt Emily’s thighbone in the mountains?”

Ophelia sighed.  Oh, for a couple wads of cotton wool to stop up her ears.  Henrietta and Forthwith had been bickering for the entire journey, first in the train compartment between Paris and Limoges and then, since there wasn’t a train station within 50 miles of Château Vézère, in this bone-rattling coach.  Outside, hills, hills, and more hills.  Bare, scrubby trees and meandering vineyards.  Farmhouses of sulpherous yellow stone.

A tiny orange sun sank over a murky river.  Each time a draft swept through the coach, Ophelia tasted the minerals that foretold snow.

“Ophelia,” Forthwith said, nudging her.

“What is it?”

Forthwith made series of fluid motions with his hands, and a green and yellow parakeet fluttered out of his cuff and landed on his finger.

“That’s horrible.  How long has that critter been stuffed up your sleeve?”  Ophelia poked out a finger and the parakeet hopped on.  Feathers tufted on the side of its head and its eyes were possibly glazed.  It was hard to say with a parakeet.  “Poor thing.”

“It hasn’t got feelings, silly.”  Forthwith yawned.

Finally,” Henrietta said, sitting up straighter.  “We’ve arrived.”

The coach passed through ornate gates.  Naked trees cast shadows across a long avenue.  They clattered to a stop before the huge front door.  Château Vézère was three stories, rectangular, and built of yellow stone, with six chimneys, white-painted shutters, and dozens of tall, glimmering windows.  Bare black vegetation encroached on either side, and Ophelia saw some smaller stone buildings to the side.

“Looks like a costly doll’s house,” Henrietta said.

“I rather thought it looked like a mental asylum,” Forthwith said.

Ophelia slid Griffe’s ruby ring on her hand, the hand that wasn’t holding a parakeet.  Someone swung the coach door open.

“Let the show begin, darlings,” Henrietta murmured.

A footman in green livery helped Ophelia down first.  Garon Gavage, the Count Griffe, bounded forward to greet her.  “Mademoiselle Stonewall, I have been restless, sleepless, in anticipation of your arrival—ah, how belle you look.”  His dark gold mane of hair wafted in the breeze.  “How I have longed for your presence—what is this?  A petit bird?”

“What?  Oh.  Yes.”  Ophelia couldn’t even begin to explain the parakeet.  “It’s very nice to see you, Count.  How long has it been?  Three weeks?”

Griffe’s burly chest rose and fell.  “Nineteen days, twenty hours, and thirty-two minutes.”

Right.

Forthwith was out of the coach and pumping Griffe’s hand.  “Count Griffe,” he said with a toothy white smile, “pleased to meet you.  My sister has told me all about you.”

Ophelia’s belly lurched.

“Sister?”  Griffe knit his brow.

“I beg your pardon,” Forthwith said.  “I’m Forthwith Stonewall, Ophelia’s brother.  Didn’t my sister tell you I was coming along?”

The rat.

“Ah!”  Griffe clapped Forthwith on the shoulder.  “Monsieur Stonewall.  Perhaps your sister did mention it—I have been most distracted by business matters in England, très forgetful . . .  And who is this?”  Griffe nodded to Henrietta as she stepped down from the coach.  “Another delightful American relation, eh?”

It had better not be.  Ophelia said, “This is—”

“Mrs. Henrietta Brighton,” Henrietta said quickly, and then gave a sad smile.

Precisely when had Miss Henrietta Bright become Mrs. Henrietta Brighton?  And . . . oh, merciful heavens.  How could Ophelia have been so blind?  Henrietta was in black.  All in black.

“Did Miss Stonewall neglect to mention that I would chaperone her on this visit?” Henrietta asked Griffe.  “I am a dear friend of the Stonewall family, and I have been on a Grand Tour in order to take my mind away from my poor darling—darling . . . oh.”  She dabbed her eyes with a hankie.

Griffe took Henrietta’s arm and patted it as he led her through the front door.  “A widow, oui?  My most profound condolences, Madame Brighton.  You are very welcome here.”

Ophelia and Forthwith followed.  The parakeet’s feet clung to Ophelia’s finger, and tiny snowflakes fell from the darkening sky.

“You’re shameless,” Ophelia said to Forthwith in a hot whisper.

Forthwith grinned.  “Aren’t I, though?”

 

Author Q&A:

  • Describe Beauty, Beast, and Belladonna in 140 characters or less.

Beauty, Beast, and Belladonna is a fun, adventurous, and romantic historical mystery set in a secret-riddled French chateau in 1867.

  •   What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Happiness for me is spending time outside somewhere beautiful, with my husband, kids, and dog.

  • What’s your favorite part of Ophelia’s quirky personality?

I like the way Ophelia compensates in creative and gutsy ways for her lack of a good formal education.  She’s smart and resourceful and she uses her unusual skill set—farm girl, circus performer, actress—to help solve the mystery.

  • Which living person do you most admire?

My husband, actually.  He is an unusually gifted person who overcame significant disadvantages and obstacles to get where he is today.  And he gives the best pep-talks!

  • What inspired you to marry fairytales and mystery?

I was searching for something that hadn’t been done yet, and I was reading a lot of fairy tale criticism for school at the time.  It sounded like a deliciously fun project, so I plunged in.

  • Is there a type of scene that’s harder for you to write than others? Love? Action? Racy?

Dialogue definitely comes more easily for me.  I find action scenes more challenging—I’m paranoid that they’ll get bogged down.  (So if I can, I add dialogue to my action scenes!)

  • What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Sticking to strict schedules.  I don’t like to keep people waiting, but there is something to be said for giving yourself creative or restful wiggle-room during the day. 

  • Which of the characters in this novel do you feel the most drawn to?

I became more attached to Professor Penrose in this book.  He’s more vulnerable and at a loss than in the previous two books—and more deeply in love.

  • Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

Oh, my.  Probably dozens.  I seem to like “buzz” a lot for some reason.  I’m deleting it all the time.

  • Can you describe for us your process for naming characters?

For historical American characters I use census records.  I collect names from cemeteries whenever I visit one, and I often borrow names from literature.  Since my books have lots of characters, I try to give them all distinctive names that hint at their personalities, to help the reader keep everyone sorted in their mind.

  • Who are your favorite writers?

Agatha Christie, P.G. Wodehouse, Edith Wharton and Theodor Adorno.

  •  Who is your most loved hero of fiction?

Indiana Jones.

  • Which talent would you most like to have?

It would be ecstasy to be a really, really great opera singer.

  • You’re hosting a dinner party, which five authors (dead or alive) would you invite?
  1. G. Wodehouse would probably be the life of any party. Also, Agatha Christie, Edgar Allan Poe, Shakespeare, and F. Scott Fitzgerald. There would be lots of drinking at this party.  Maybe some arguments.  No strip poker though.
  • Do you have a favorite time period in literature?

Not really.  Because of my English degrees I have read very widely, and I have favorites from every era.  And every era has its stultifying boring authors, too.

  • What is your motto?

Keep trying.

  • What is the best reaction over a book that you’ve ever gotten from a fan?

Fans who say my book gave them pure pleasure—that’s happened a few times—make me so happy.  It’s my aim to give people something to read that’s a pleasurable and absorbing diversion from Real Life.  Real Life is hard.

  • Where would you most like to live?

A place with lots of trees where I could do all my daily activities and errands on foot.  I’m working on it.

  • Which historical figure do you most identify with?

No one specific, but I often think of the female writers over the centuries who kept at their stories even when they had screaming kids and the dinner to cook and a really messy house piling up around them.  They did it, and so can I.

  • What are you working on next?

I just completed a humorous contemporary mystery that does not yet have a publisher, and I’m working on a historical fantasy adventure with a co-author.  After that, the next thing will be book #3 of the Discreet Retrieval Agency series.

 

 

About the author:

image003 (1)MAIA CHANCE writes historical mystery novels that are rife with absurd predicaments and romantic adventure. She is the author of the Fairy Tale Fatal series, The Discreet Retrieval Agency series and the Prohibition-era caper,Come Hell or Highball.  Her first mystery, Snow White Red-Handed, was a national bestseller. Maia lives in Seattle, where she shakes a killer martini, grows a mean radish, and bakes mocha bundts to die for. She is a Ph.D. candidate for English at the University of Washington.

Rustler’s Moon by Jodi Thomas…Blog Tour Stop with Excerpt and Author Q&A

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RUSTLER’S MOON

By New York Times Bestselling Author

Jodi Thomas

On a dirt road marked by haunting secrets, three strangers caught at life’s crossroads must decide what to sacrifice to protect their own agendas…and what they’re each willing to risk for love. 

If there’s any place that can convince Angela Harrell to stop running, it’s Ransom Canyon. And if there’s any man who can reveal desires more deeply hidden than her every fear, it’s Wilkes Wagner. Beneath the rancher’s honorable exterior is something that just might keep her safe…or unwittingly put her in danger’s path.

With his dreams of leaving this small Texas town swallowed up by hard, dusty reality, all Wilkes has to show for his life is the Devil’s Fork Ranch. Though not one to let false hope seduce him, he can’t deny the quiet and cautious beauty who slips into his world and changes everything.

Author Q&A

  1. This is your second book in the Ransom Canyon series. Tell us about the town.

In RUSTLER’S MOON the town of Crossroads has grown.  After allowing their museum to sit empty for a year, the book opens with a new curator coming.  The museum comes alive and brings the town together as Angela Harold wakes up to life and loving for the first time.  The quiet, shy curator carries a secret that will threaten the whole town and leave rancher Wilkes Wagner fighting for his life as he protects Angela.

 

  1. We’ve heard you have an inspiration room for your writing. Tell us about the spot.

Ransom Canyon room:  When I began the series, I moved my computer to a little room out back of my house.  We call it the bunkhouse.  It’s not big, mission designed and almost a hundred years old.  I took down all the western art and put up white boards.  Removed all books except those on ranching, horses, Texas, or research I might need. Family histories of characters fill one wall.  Plot lines another.  When I step into the bunkhouse, I step into the world of Ransom Canyon.  One by one my characters come in and sit down to tell me their story.

I even have pictures of the flowers of Texas taped up in the bathroom and a Jack Sorenson print of horses running into the canyon on the door.

Ransom_Canyon_Room1

 

  1. Are there any characters in the series you’d consider for a spin-off?

Yes.  There are characters outlined on one board of my study that may not make it into this series.  Who knows?  Maybe they’ll find their way in the future.

 

  1. If RUSTLER’S MOON were made into a movie, who would you cast as the lead characters?

Like many of my readers I spent my Christmas holidays snowed in and watching Hallmark movies.  Almost every movie I’d say, “That actor would be perfect as this character.”  I’d love to hear from my readers about who they see as playing Wilkes Wagner in RANSOM CANYON.

 

  1. What’s up next for the series?

Coming this spring will be LONE HEART PASS.  Another modern day ranching story set in Texas.  It opens with a woman giving up on a career and taking what she thinks is her last chance to survive by coming to a small ranch her grandfather left her.  She hires a cowboy to help who has a pickup full of baggage, a five-year-old daughter and a determination that surprises her.

 

  1. If you had to wear a t-shirt with the same saying every single day, what would it say?

That is an easy one.  When I started writing I went to a writer’s conference in Oklahoma one year and bought a t-shirt.  Every night when I stepped into my closet sized study, I put on that shirt.  I wore it out, but I wore it until I sold.  It said, NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER, in training.

 

  1. If you were a punctuation mark, which one best suits your personality?

If I were a punctuation mark I think I’d be a semi-colon.  Half the time I don’t know where I belong.  No one really understands me.  I think I’m kin to a comma.  Which were left on earth millions of years ago by aliens just to confuse us so we’d never evolve completely.

 

  1. If you didn’t live in Texas, where would you most like to call home?

I love traveling.  Wherever I go, I always think I’d love to live there.  I was twenty-one when I first crossed the Mississippi heading east.  I spent so much time pointing out all the trees my new husband stopped the car.  “We’re heading to Fort Mammoth, New Jersey.  There are trees from now on, Jodi, so stop yelling every time you see one.”  The next three years we crossed the USA several times in a 1970 Camaro and everywhere we went I was excited at all there was to see.

But, in truth, when the time comes, bury me in Texas with the open sky and land so flat you can see the curve of the earth.  It’s where I belong.  It’s in my blood

 

  1. If you weren’t a writer, what would you be?

I’d be a teacher.  Teachers change the landscape of your life.  Mrs. Dickerson in the fourth grade saw that I couldn’t read.  She took the time to learn why and send me to a school for two summers.  She opened the world of fiction for me.  Without her, I would have been fine.  With her, I’ve lived a much richer life.

I’m the writer in residence at West Texas A&M University and the best part of my job is sitting down with students in my office and beginning our journey with, ‘So, you want to be a writer?”

 

  1. What authors do you most like to read?

I can’t answer that question because the answer changes every day.  I love curling up with an old book and reading it for the second or third time.  I love discovering an author and seeing a new fresh voice.

I have a loose grip on reality.  Give me a good story.  Take me away into another world for a few hours.  Make me laugh.  Make me cry.  Make me fall in love again for the first time.

 

Excerpt:

Crossroads, Texas
October
Angela

Dried weeds scratched against Angela Harold’s bare legs as she walked the neglected grounds behind the Ransom Canyon Museum near Crossroads, Texas. Rumbling gray clouds spotted the sky above. Wind raged as though trying to push her back to the East Coast. She decided any rain might blow all the way to Oklahoma before it could land on Texas soil. But the weather didn’t matter. She had made it here. She’d done exactly what her father told her. She’d vanished.

Angela had meant to stop long enough to clean up before she took her first look at the museum, but she could not wait. So, in sandals, shorts and a tank top, she explored the land behind the boarded-up building on the edge of Ransom Canyon.

When she’d talked to the board president, Staten Kirkland, five days ago, he’d sounded excited. They’d had to close the museum when the last curator left and in six months she’d been the only one to call about the job opening. Before the phone call ended Kirkland offered her a three-month trial if she could answer one question.

Angela thought it would be about her experience or her education, but it was pure Texas folk history.

“What or who was the Yellow Rose of Texas?” the man on the phone asked in his pure Texas twang.

She laughed. “The woman who entertained Santa Anna before the Battle of San Jacinto. The battle that won Texas independence.” She’d always loved that story, which often got left out of history books.

“We’ll be waiting for you, Mrs. Jones.”

He hung up before she had time to tell him that her name wasn’t Jones. In a moment of paranoia, she’d used a false name when she’d bought a laptop and phone. Then again on the application, figuring she’d be just one of hundreds who applied. Now, if he checked her transcripts or references, she’d have to make up another lie. That would be easier than finding some guy named Jones, marrying him and dragging him along to Texas with her.

Angela had driven a hundred miles before she decided she would tell Kirkland that she used Jones because she had been engaged but he left her at the altar. Kirkland would feel sorry for her, but that was better than killing off her imaginary husband.

She’d straighten it all out Monday. She’d even practice just how she’d say it.

Monday, she’d dress in a suit and accept the position as curator for the three-month trial period, but today simply exploring the place would be enough. After days in the car she needed to stretch her legs and breathe in the clean air. She’d dreamed of being in Texas for years. A wild country—untamed, open, free. Something she’d never felt before, but she planned to now. For the first time, she was free to make her own future.

The grounds behind the museum had been left natural, just as it must have looked a hundred and fifty years ago when settlers came to this top square of Texas.

Since the day she’d read there was an opening here for a curator, Angela learned everything she could about this area. The history was interesting, but the people who founded this frontier town fascinated her. They were hearty. Stubborn. Independent. Honest. All things she’d never been. But the first settlers were also broken, desperate and lost. Somehow they’d managed to work together to build, not just ranches and a town, but a future.

Now she had to do the same with no family or friends to help her.

She didn’t know if she belonged here. She fainted at the sight of blood. Gave in at the first sign of disagreement.

That left honest. She didn’t want to even think about how dishonest she was. She’d lied to get the job as curator of this closed museum.

Standing near the edge of a canyon that dropped a hundred feet straight down, she let the sun’s dying rays warm her face. Everything about her had to change. She had to make it so. She had to start over.

Somewhere along the road between Florida and here, she’d come to the conclusion that her father’s death wasn’t an accident. Maybe he knew something about the company or his brother. Maybe he’d overheard trouble moving in. Why else would he have told her to run? If her life weren’t in danger, why would it be so important that she vanish?

Maybe he’d been planning to disappear with her, only time ran out for him. But he had left her prepared.

He’d put money in her account. He’d even suggested that she tell no one about this job in Texas.

The old trailer he bought and hid in the garage fit into the plan. Last month, he’d had her car fit with the hitch. She’d told him she had no need to pull a trailer, but he’d said that if he ever needed the trailer, he didn’t want to use it on the company car he drove. Only, she’d been the one who needed the trailer. She’d done what he’d told her to do in the note and now she had to somehow blend in here in Texas.

Taking the curator job was the first step. This time her title didn’t have “assistant” attached to it. She would be the boss. This time she would have no aunt to criticize every move she made.

Angela smiled. Her aunt had probably dropped by the beach house to have that talk with her by now. After all, it had been a week. She’d find the key in the mailbox. No note. No forwarding address. No friends notified. Any mail concerning her life on Anna Marie Island would be trashed.

Angela had even cancelled her cell phone service and tossed the phone off the Bradenton Bridge when she crossed onto the mainland.

Disappear, her father’s note had said. She’d seen enough spy movies to know what that meant.

She touched the necklace she wore. A replica of the Greek coin on display at her uncle’s store. She’d thought of tossing it into the ocean with her phone, but decided it would always remind her of her father. The real one had caused many an argument between the brothers. Her father saw it as a family treasure. Uncle Anthony saw it as something to be sold to the highest bidder.

They’d compromised and made copies to sell for a few hundred dollars each.

Glancing toward the sound of crunching gravel, she watched a white-and-blue sheriff’s car pull into the museum’s parking lot. Her heart stopped.

Trouble had found her halfway across the country. Somehow her uncle had tracked her. But how? She’d parked her old car in a twenty-four-hour Walmart lot in Orlando and walked across the street to rent a pickup with a hitch for her trailer. Then she’d turned the pickup in before she crossed the Florida state line. She’d bought a junker of a car with cash but it wasn’t powerful enough to pull the trailer, giving her nothing but trouble for two hundred miles. Two days later in Georgia she’d traded in the junker and her old two-wheel trailer to a mechanic for a van in a town too small to have a stop sign. The guy said he’d mail the title to the van, but she had given him a fake name and address.

What if the van had been stolen? The law could be about to arrest her, and she had no proof she bought the van.

Angela stared at the patrol car as it pulled in beside her van. Her freedom had lasted less then a week. Maybe her uncle had put out a missing person alert? That wouldn’t surprise her. Her aunt probably told everyone Angela was so lost in grief she wasn’t to be left alone.

A man in a uniform unfolded out of his car. She expected him to pull his gun as he walked toward her. After all, she’d run away from home at twenty-seven. Something all her relatives would swear quiet Angela would never do.

“Pardon me, miss,” the man said as he neared. “This place has been closed for months. We got a no-trespassing sign at the turnoff, but you must have missed it.”

In her shorts, no makeup and her strawberry-blond hair in a day-old ponytail, she must look more girl than woman. The echo of her mother’s familiar speech about how Angela was too chubby, too squat to wear shorts, circled through her tired mind.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t notice the sign.” She straightened, trying to look at least five foot five, though she knew she missed her goal by two inches.

She moved toward the lawman trying her best to look like a professional. “I’m Angela—”

Hesitating, she tried to remember the last name she’d used on the application. It slipped her mind completely. “Smith.” Angela mentally shook her tired brain awake. “Jones.” Of course. How hard could that be to remember?

There, she’d gotten it out. After not talking for three days, words didn’t want to form in her brain.

She stared at his name tag. Sheriff Brigman looked as if he easily read the lie that lay in her mind like oil slush. He pulled off his Stetson stalling for time, but she didn’t miss the way he looked her up and down from ponytail to sandals.

“Welcome to town, Mrs. Jones. Kirkland told me you were coming.”

A hint of a smile lifted the corner of his mouth. He reminded her of a sheriff from the Wild West days. Well built, a touch of gray in his sideburns and stone-cold eyes that said he’d finish the job, no matter what it took, whether it was catching the outlaw or satisfying his woman.

She mentally slapped herself. No time to flirt or daydream. Angela had to think of what to say. Was it too early to ask for a lawyer? Should she start confessing? But to what? She wasn’t even sure what crimes she’d committed. Running away at her age didn’t seem to be illegal, and she’d read somewhere that you can go by an alias if you were not doing anything wrong.

When she didn’t offer any comment, the cop in the Stetson added, “My guess is you couldn’t wait to see the inside of this place. Did you just get to town?”

She nodded, thankful he didn’t add “Dressed like a fifteen-year-old.” With luck, he hadn’t noticed she couldn’t remember her own name. Maybe he thought she had early onset Alzheimer’s.

“Yes, sorry, I’ve been driving for twelve hours, so I’m a bit scattered. I wanted a quick look at the canyon before dark. It’s beautiful out here near the edge.”

Brigman nodded as he watched the last bit of sunlight running over the canyon walls turn the rocks gold. “I like to check on the museum this time of day. It kind of reminds me of a great painting. No matter what kind of day I’ve had, all is calm out here.”

“I can see that.” She’d feared she would miss the ocean and the beautiful sunsets at Anna Marie Island, but Ransom Canyon had its own kind of wonder. She had a feeling the canyon would grow on her.

“You know, Mrs. Jones, your office has a great view.” He pointed to a huge window on the second floor of the big barn of a building.

Angela smiled. “No one told me that, or I might have driven all night.”

They both started walking toward the parking lot.

“Your husband driving the moving van in?” Sheriff Brigman had an easy way of asking questions as if he were just being friendly.

“I’m not married,” she said, then remembered the application listing her new name as Jones.

“When I interviewed over the phone with Mr. Kirkland, I was two days away from being married.” She did her best to look brokenhearted, but it wasn’t easy, since she’d never once given her heart away. “The night before the wedding, we called it off.”

The sheriff studied her as if planning to wait for more information.

“We didn’t work out. My fiancé didn’t want to move.” She shrugged as if fighting back tears. “When we broke up, I thought a clean getaway would be best, so I went ahead and came to Texas.” Since fiancéJones never existed, it wasn’t really very painful to walk out on him. “I’d already changed my email and accounts over to Jones.”

Brigman raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning to keep his name?”

Angela fought down a nervous giggle. “I’m sentimental about names. Turns out his name was the only thing I liked about the man. As soon as I settle, I’ll change everything back. Of course, my driver’s license is still in my maiden name.” This whole thing was getting mixed up in her brain. At this point any way she could climb out of this little lie was probably going to end up making her look like an idiot.

Thank goodness they had reached her van. A few more lies and the sheriff would probably figure out she was on the run and have her arrested or committed.

“Have you been by your new house yet?” he asked as he opened her car door.

“Do you know where it is?” Mr. Kirkland had mentioned that he’d email her some information, but she’d forgotten to look.

“Sure.” He grinned, looking younger. “This is a small town, Mrs. Jones, I mean…”

He waited for her to fill in the blank. “Harold,” she answered.

The sheriff nodded once. “Kirkland said you wanted to rent a two-bedroom furnished place that allowed cats. Half the Chamber of Commerce started looking for something special. We don’t get many professional curators around here. I could show you the one we picked for you and the runner-up, Miss Harold. I’ve got keys to both.”

“Please call me Angela, Sheriff.”

He touched two fingers to the brim of his Stetson in a salute. “All right, Angela. Why don’t you call me Dan. Which do you want to see first, a nice little house between the two churches in town or a cabin house on the lake? The church house has more room, but the lake house backs into the shoreline.”

“I’ll take the lake house,” she said immediately. She almost hugged him. Water. She’d be near water.

“Follow me, then.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” she said. “If you’ll give me the key, I can probably find it.”

“No trouble. You have to pass my house at the lake to get to yours. Showing you the place isn’t out of my way home at all.”

As the sheriff’s car led her through the small town of Crossroads, Angela fought down another wave of panic that seemed to be coming over her as often as hiccups. This open country where anyone could see for miles in every direction didn’t seem like a very wise place to hide. Probably half the people in town would know where she lived. How could she have ever thought she’d be safe here?

What if Anthony came after her? If he found her? If he or one of his associates had killed her father and made it look like a robbery, maybe they’d kill her, too. They might think her father had told her more than just that the books didn’t balance. Maybe they thought she had something that belonged to Uncle Anthony. After all, someone had turned her parents’ home upside down looking for something.

Of course, if they came for her, she’d swear she didn’t know anything. But would they believe her if her father had already confronted them with some illegal activity he knew about? Whatever her father overheard or found in the books must have been bad. A secret worth murdering for?

She was letting her imagination run away with her again. The police said her father’s mugging was just one of a half dozen in the area that weekend. Probably drug related. The investigator hadn’t given her much hope that the killer would ever be found. Dark alley. No witnesses. He even said it looked as if her father had been struck with something or pushed, then fell backward hitting his head.

Angela knew the police report didn’t tell the whole story. Her father knew trouble was coming. Whoever killed him must have known his habits. Whoever mugged him might have known it might trigger a heart attack. Something had kept him from going to the police with his information and that something or someone had to be the reason he wanted her away and safe.

Only, she had no proof. No facts.

Her only choice was to make a new start and never look back. She trusted her father. If he said run, she would.

The sheriff, in the car in front of her, would be her first friend. This place would become her only home. In three months she’d be so much a part of this wild country she’d almost believe she was born to the land.
Excerpted from Rustler’s Moon by Jodi Thomas. Copyright © 2016 by Jodi Thomas. Excerpted by permission of Harlequin (US & Canada). All right reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

A fifth-generation Texan, JODI THOMAS sets the majority of her novels in her home state. With a degree in Family Studies, Thomas is a marriage and family counselor by education, a background that enables her to write about family dynamics. Honored in 2002 as a Distinguished Alumni by Texas Tech University in Lubbock, Thomas enjoys interacting with students on the West Texas A & M University campus, where she currently serves as Writer in Residence. When not working on a novel or inspiring students to pursue a writing career, Thomas enjoys traveling with her husband, Tom, renovating a historic home they bought in Amarillo, and “checking up” on their two grown sons.