Blog Tour ~ The Magic Ingredient by Lindy Miller #Excerpt #Giveaway

The Magic Ingredient
Lindy Miller
(A Bar Harbor Holiday Novel)
Published by: Rosewind Books
Publication date: October 13th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

The end of summer is approaching, but even at the height of Bar Harbor’s tourist season, Eve Silver is having a hard time keeping enough money in the bank to sustain the family business. Her only hope of paying past due bills is to win the catering bid for the town’s upcoming Harvest Happening Festival. Otherwise, it’ll be lights out for Mount Desserts & Tea by Christmas.

Widower Jeff Parish is moving with his twelve-year-old daughter, Candy, from Manhattan to Maine with one goal: starting over. When sparks fly between Jeff and Eve as the town readies for the annual harvest festival, Candy wishes she had a love potion to help her dad fall in love again.

Will Eve be able to save Mount Desserts & Tea—and open her heart to Jeff—by the most bewitching night of the year? It’ll take a lot of love, a little bit of luck … and just a pinch of magic.

Goodreads / Amazon

~*~*~

EXCERPT

Part of eating a cupcake was the experience, and in Eve's opinion, a little extra frosting on your face made it all the more gratifying. Her mouth filled with the taste of vanilla, chocolate, and marshmallow, all of the flavors intermingling just as she'd planned. Still, something seemed off. It wasn't enough to toss the batch out, but in Eve's opinion, the recipe hadn't quite reached perfection.

Eve swallowed, wiping away the frosting from her nose. "It's not perfect."

"It's incredible," Jeff countered before he shoved the rest of the cupcake into his mouth.

He had a dollop of frosting on his nose, which made Eve smile despite her frustration at the recipe. "I don't know if I believe your verdict, but at least you didn't call it glitzy."

Jeff mumbled something that sounded like idtellinguidperfek around the mouthful of pastry.

"Something is missing. Something small, a flavor that isn't quite there. It's not major, but enough that I notice." Eve wiped her hands on a dishcloth and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest in frustration. "I don’t know why I can't get it right. Maybe I'm not as great a baker as I think I am. It shouldn't take so many tries to get a recipe correct. Not if you know what you're doing."

Jeff wiped his face and leveled his gaze at Eve as he stepped closer. "I don't think that's true at all. You're a fantastic baker. You're a fantastic lot of things."

He was so close now Eve could smell his scent—musky and warm, with notes of pine and sandalwood. An inviting smell. Eve wondered how she'd never noticed it before. Then again, the more she felt drawn to Jeff the more she'd tried to keep her distance, kind of like reaching her goal—one step forward, two back.

"Really?" she asked, hoping she sounded interested and not incredulous. She didn't want to offend someone offering her a compliment, even if she didn't believe it. "I try so hard and I feel like I come up short."

"Doing everything on your own isn’t easy, and I can see how you might think that you're failing, but you're looking at the situation the wrong way."

Eve shook her head and kept her eyes downcast, even when Jeff's hand found her shoulder, sliding down to cup her upper arm. His touch sent a tingle down her flesh and she resisted the urge to look up. 

"Is there another way?"

"Instead of focusing on what you're not doing well, think of all the things you are amazing at. Try to see yourself as ..."

He paused. 

Eve wondered if he'd changed his mind about whatever it was he was going to say.

Jeff cleared his throat and started over. "Try to see yourself the way I see you. Like Candy does, and Doris and Annie. And Bapo, for what it's worth."

Eve snickered, despite herself. "You're never going to get tired of ribbing him, are you?"

"Never." Jeff's hand slid further down her arm to rest on her elbow. "My point remains.”

The place where Jeff's hand rested on her arm pulsed. "How do you all see me?"

"We see someone who works hard every single day, around the clock, never taking any time for herself. Who gives her all to everything she does, even when it seems impossible, and who makes everyone feel needed and wanted when she's around simply by being there." Jeff stepped in closer. His heat brushed up against her chest. "It isn't about finding the perfect recipe for a new confection or keeping the family business around for another generation, Eve. It's about you. You make Mount Desserts worth saving. And I believe in you. We all do, even if you don't believe in yourself."

When Eve finally looked up, she found herself staring into Jeff's eyes. They were warmer and sweeter than any chocolate ganache she'd ever made. 

His free hand found its way to her other elbow and she allowed herself to be drawn from the counter. Jeff pulled her into his embrace, his hands releasing her elbows to slide around the small of her back, holding her close.

There was no denying the butterflies now.

Author Bio:

Lindy Miller is an author of feel-good love stories that are full of sweet moments and happy endings. She believes the best time to fall in love is during the holidays, preferably over a cup of warm tea or a delicious vegan pastry - two things she can't get enough of.

A free spirit, Lindy loves to travel and has a soft spot for Bar Harbor, Maine though she grew up at home in the South. She is married to her childhood sweetheart and bakes as often as she can for her husband, son, and pets - especially her golden retriever, Finn, who has a tendency to show up in her stories (and her Instagram!)

Lindy is represented by Gandolfo Helin & Fountain Literary Management and supported by Smith Publicity.

Member Romantic Novelist Association (RNA).

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Cover Reveal ~ Surviving Faithful by Anna Bishop Barker #Giveaway

 

Title: Surviving Faithful  

Author: Anna Bishop Barker 

Genre: Romantic Suspense 

Release Date: December 10, 2020 

Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC. 

 

Can a broken former bad boy and a lonely small-town vet really work? Kyle Valentine left Faithful, Tennessee because there was nothing for him there.  In one nightmarish moment all he had was taken. But Faithful never left him.  It was as much a part of him as the marrow in his bones. He spent three years on the water and on the run from his grief. Then this dead wife told him to go home.

~~~~

Veterinarian Olivia Hudson was just a small-town girl with simple needs.  She had the prerequisite three wishes. She wanted a makeup that covered her freckles.  She needed people to stop feeding their dogs chicken bones.  She craved a decent man who would love her, only her, beyond all reason and rational thought. None of those wishes was coming true. Until a mountain of a man with tattoos and a deliciously dirty mouth landed at her front door, and things started looking up.

~~~~

But who was leaving the dead cats on her lawn?

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Row Seventeen, Plot Forty-Two, Under The Big Oak Tree 

He sat with his back propped up against the headstone.  The sod under him was freshly laid and felt lumpy and hard under his ass.  It was quiet, especially this early in the morning when the sun was barely a promise on the horizon.  It had been pitch dark with no moon when he got there, and he had to use his big industrial flashlight to find his way.  He had been there every night for the last two weeks, so he was vaguely surprised that he still needed any light to find them. Eighteen days. They had been gone for eighteen days.  She had been gone for eighteen days.  The baby had been little more than a promise that had been broken. A girl, they had told him.  The ultrasound that would have given them that news had been scheduled for tomorrow morning. No need for it now, of course. Now Aponi and their baby girl lay six feet and a few inches of frozen ground away from him. He rested his head back against the cold, hard marble and closed his eyes.  Did it make him a coward that he wanted to die too, but didn’t have the guts to make it so?  Survival was a concept that he was intimately familiar with.  Grief was not, and his mind was exhausted trying to reconcile the two.  What had the preacher said? “Someday you will understand God’s plan, Kyle.” Why did they say shit like that?  Because that is what it was - utter fucking, dog pile bullshit. They all meant well.  Were his heart still alive, he would have loved them for it.  But the more his family and friends tried to do something, anything to help him, the less he felt capable of living.  He wanted to lie down here, pull up the dirt over him, and sleep with them forever. He wanted it, but he didn’t do it, and with every day that passed he wondered why not. As Kyle Valentine sat on the cold dirt that covered the fresh grave of his wife and unborn daughter, he didn’t see her sitting on the ground just outside the iron fencing.  He wouldn’t have recognized her if he had seen her. Olivia couldn’t say exactly why she had followed him.  She had heard the Harley pass her house every night for the past two weeks.  It was hard to miss.  There weren’t many Harleys in Faithful.  She knew it was Kyle, and she knew where he was going.  Everyone in town knew where Kyle Valentine was spending his nights. Something had made her walk to the cemetery tonight, and she hadn’t brought Snape.  The same force had her follow the man, made her sit down to watch him.  She knew she was invading a scene she should not be witnessing.  But something kept her there.  So she sat on the concrete, shivering occasionally, until the big man finally got to his feet and walked the opposite way to where his motorcycle was parked. And somewhere is the cosmos, something stirred in the stars. Nineteen Rows Back and Fifty Feet to the East, Row Thirty-Six, Plot Two 

Dr. Wilbur Hudson was buried next to his wife, Marlene.  Olivia hadn’t been there since she buried her father seven months earlier.  But since she had been at the cemetery, it seemed wrong not to go visit.  Now she stood in the cold January air, gloved hands shoved into the deep, sheepskin-lined pockets of her coat.  Her breath released in frosty puffs that drifted around her face. She hadn’t visited her mother’s grave on any regular basis since she left for college, but there had been a time when she had ridden her bike there nearly every day.  Marlene Hudson had passed away from the cancer in her breast on a lovely spring day when Olivia was twelve years old.  Eight months later Olivia got her period.  She had ridden to this very spot and stood on the grass that covered her mother’s remains.  She had screamed out her anger that Marlene Hudson had not been there to tell her what to do, what she needed.  She had stood on this very spot and told her mother about the crush she had on Kyle Valentine in eighth grade.  Sobs had rocked her teenage body when she asked her mother why Kyle didn’t like her back. There had never been any answers.  No words of wisdom, love, encouragement, or understanding. Olivia had stood beside Marlene Hudson’s tombstone the day she was awarded the scholarship to UT.  The silence was deafening.  It always was.  There were no words of pride, no doting smiles, no adoring arms.  After that, she rarely visited.  She thought about visiting, planned to visit.  Something always came up.  She never asked her father if he visited, and they had not once come together, not in all the years since. Marlene Hudson’s death defined Olivia’s connection with her father.  The life they led, the life her father had settled for, the foundation of the shaky relationship they had maintained, the bone-deep guilt that she now felt, all of it had it’s roots here, in the cold Tennessee dirt.  These two narrow plots of land had made Dr. Olivia Hudson who she was.  For better or worse. “I’m so sorry, Dad.” The tear was warm on her face for a moment. “I’m so, so sorry.” The stirring in the stars intensified.

I was born in Kentucky and raised in Florida, so I am a southerner through and through. Since I was old enough to pick up a book, I have been a voracious reader. I wrote the usual poetry and short stories in high school, and I kept the dream of writing in the back of my heart until opportunity and encouragement helped me to realize that dream. I live in Tampa with my kids, grandkids, dogs, various other livestock, and way more books than is strictly healthy. Hot Romance. Suspense. Humor & heart. Grown up stories for grown up people. This is what I write. There's also food, music, dogs, the occasional geek reference, and quite possibly an inappropriate joke. There will likely be dead bodies as well. Three random facts about me: 1. I was bitten by a shark when I was 14. 2. I have read War and Peace. (When I get to the afterlife, I am demanding that week of my life back. Sorry, Tolstoy.) 3. It is my sincere belief that any situation can be improved by eating some cheese. My life philosophy is guard your inner peace and read dirty kissing books.

 

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Book Blitz ~ Her Billionaire Daddy by Allison West #Giveaway

Her Billionaire Daddy
Allison West
(Western Daddy Doms, #1)
Publication date: October 13th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

He owns the hottest lifestyle club in all of New York City. It’s secretive, exclusive, and caters to Daddy Doms.

Romance author, Samantha Bellamy, is shocked when she attends a book signing and runs into her high school crush, Martin Taylor.

He’s a billionaire with a secret. He’s owner of an exclusive club for Daddy Doms and littles to openly explore the lifestyle.

He’s also notorious for his playboy personality, bedding a new woman every night.

There’s a deal to be made worth potentially billions and Martin can’t let it get away. The only problem is the board of directors doesn’t like his playboy persona.

He offers Samantha the deal of a lifetime. Marry him for eighteen months and receive two million dollars for her trouble. The only catch, no sex.

Oh, and she has to call him Daddy!

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—

EXCERPT:

His eyes narrowed. Had she just inadvertently challenged him?

Shit.

“Come with me,” Martin said, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her out of the room.

Oh crap. She only hoped that he was saving face by leaving them alone someplace else to ream her or tell her to keep her mouth shut. No such luck. He led her across the hall to another room, one they hadn’t entered yet, with a long, dark wooden desk. Situated across from it against the wall, was a chalkboard and on the opposite wall, several implements hanging and waiting desperately to be used.

“Oh no. I don’t l-like this room,” Samantha stammered, trying to escape his grasp. “I’ll be polite. I swear, Martin.”

Martin’s gaze never lightened up. “I don’t like your behavior. I own this club. You don’t have to agree with my methods or with what others do here, but you will respect me and those who choose to practice this lifestyle. And above all else, while we are here, you will call me Daddy. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Martin.”

“Excuse me?” he guided her farther into the room and toward the large wooden desk.

She swallowed nervously. “Yes, Daddy.” Her mouth grew dry. “We’re only watching tonight, right?” He wasn’t going to change the rules on her, was he? She was onboard with some aspects they’d done already, but she wasn’t comfortable having her bottom burned.

He shook his head and sighed heavily. “That had been my intention until you humiliated me and disrespected my client. I cannot accept that type of behavior ever again.”

“I promise. I won’t say anything. I wasn’t thinking, Martin. I mean, Daddy. This is all still new to me.”

Martin released his grip on her, perhaps trusting that she wouldn’t run away. As much as she wanted to, where would she go? Besides, as frightening as this room was, there were several more doors farther down the hall.

She was nervous and keeping her hands behind her back, covering her bottom. She knew what was coming and didn’t like it.

“A correction is needed to teach you right from wrong. It’s clear to me now more than ever you need Daddy’s discipline.”

Maybe she could bargain with him. “You’re right, Daddy. I do need your discipline, but could we maybe do it back at the house? Where it’s just the two of us?” She didn’t want to be put on display for anyone to witness. Not to mention the added benefit of time, so maybe he would cool down.

“Absolutely not. You will accept your punishment, and because this is your first offense and your first time at the club, I will only use my hand. Take a good long and hard look at all those implements on the wall, Samantha. The next time, it won’t be so gentle.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. How bad could a spanking truly be if it was administered with his hand? She wasn’t a child. It couldn’t hurt that bad, could it?

“Lie across the table, bottom up, dress lifted so that I can see your behind.”

Samantha hung her head, refusing to look at him. She’d seen the fine print in that stupid contract she had signed that had said she would agree to be disciplined as a Daddy sees fit. A small part of her had been excited to see what he had in mind but this, quite honestly, she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting.

Martin came up from behind, his hands pushing down her panties, exposing her bottom. She couldn’t tell if anyone was watching from the door. She lifted her back from the table, glancing around to see if they were alone.

No one else watched, at least not yet. Maybe when he began striking her bottom, they would flock to the entrance of the room.

He’d never seen her rear until today and she felt naked against the cold wooden table. He pushed her back down against the desk, guiding her body to be flush with the wood. “You will learn to submit to me, Samantha, and be a good little one. Do not move,” he commanded. He spread her legs further apart and she gasped, feeling a slight breeze against her wetness. Had he breathed in her scent and exhaled a soft breath, or was she truly imagining the intimacy of the moment because her eyes were slammed shut.

His hand came down, smacking her bottom hard. Her hips bucked against the wood and her buttocks clenched. “Okay, that’s enough!” She’d had one smack to her bottom. “You made your point.”

“I don’t believe I did, Samantha.” His breath hovered against her as he leaned down, pressing her body against the table, his hand at her back holding her down, his trousers pressed tight against her backside. She moaned and whimpered, desiring contact, her sex throbbing and pulsating. A part of her wanted to reach around and touch herself but she wouldn’t, not in front of him. He’d probably enjoy it too much.

“Do you like being spanked?” Martin asked, his hand keeping her pressed to the wood.

She wasn’t keen on the position, but feeling him having all the power, with her at his mercy, it was doing something to her that she couldn’t quite explain. His hips thrust into hers and she wasn’t sure whether he was teasing her or something else entirely. Was he as turned on as she was?

Author Bio:

Allison West is a #1 International Best-Selling Author in Erotica, BDSM, Romantic Erotica, Sci-Fi, Victorian, and Historical Erotica. She also writes young adult novels under the name Ruth Silver.

Allison West has been inventing worlds and writing stories for years. Her favorite novels are those that leave a lasting impression, long after the final page is read. You can find more about Allison on Facebook, Twitter, and her blog "Spanking Author." http://spankingauthor.com

 

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