Talk about a busy holiday weekend – this one has it all going on! Both a Paranormal Romantics AND Weekend Writing Warrior post due (this one is doing double duty!!), a book sale to promote, our holiday snack feast to prepare AND time, amongst all those things, to get a year older! And no, I’m not giving any particular number away. I’d be sitting in a rocking chair, but I have too much to do. Maybe I’ll rest next year.
Since “Luck” is our word of the weekend (and the idea of “luck” can be paranormal-ish, can’t it?), I’m hyping a sale for one of my “Lucky In Love” contemporary romances. LOVE’S OWN REWARD—the first in a four-book contract for my alter ego, Dana Ransom—is just $0.99 for you e-readers (a buck and change!) through the end of the month (with an extra day thrown in as May has 31 days!).
The Excerpt
Confronting her was the nicest denim-molded backside she’d ever seen. Whoever was rummaging about in the vegetable crisper of her refrigerator, it definitely wasn’t Alan Peters!
Charley must have made some noise, for the forager called back cheerfully, “Good morning. Over easy or scrambled?” With one look at her stunned features, he nodded to himself. “Scrambled.”
( . . . and a bit more . . .)
Charley’s mouth opened and closed several times in soundless wonder. Who on earth was this absolutely gorgeous man taking control of her kitchen with more natural ease than she’d ever managed? She just stared—she couldn’t help it. With his untidy brown hair finger-combed back from a moody brow and startlingly gray eyes, an overnight stubble darkening his firm jaw to make his mouth appear disarmingly soft in contrast, white cotton sweatshirt clinging to broad shoulders and exposing very masculine forearms, bare feet beneath the hem of the blue jeans she’d already noticed in far too much detail, “ruggedly bed-rumpled” was the only way to describe him. And that evoked a more alarming question.
Where had he spent the night?
My plan, around preparing all those snacks(!), is to binge the entire 10-episode BAND OF BROTHERS series, privately cheering, sighing, and weeping in our basement family room (as I did last year!). What a fantastic epic. My dad was in the Pacific theater and was at home on leave when news of Pearl Harbor pulled him back into the thick of it in the medical corps – something he never talked about unless it was a funny story. My books feature fictional heroes, but in my heart and mind, my dad was the real deal!
This Memorial weekend, take time out to remember the reason. Go to a parade. Thank a veteran. Say a prayer. And fly your flag!
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