Tuesday, June 5, 2018

Run Wild and Wash Your Hands

Some years back, more than a decade of them in fact, I discovered a love for running. But I let it fall away and then I let myself put on a lot of weight. In January I started working out; after I’d lost a few pounds, and built up some stamina, I started running again. And convinced my two girls, Casey (24 years old) and Morgen (14), to do a 5k race with me at the Philadelphia Zoo. And then I set up about training for that race. My only goal?
Cross the finish line before my girls!
Things didn’t exactly go as planned. First of all, for the last weekend in April, it was unseasonably cold. Second, I got caught behind a incapacitated mini-van on the expressway literally within eyesight of the fricking zoo. Third, I had a large cup of coffee. Fourth, I forgot my damn earbuds.
I need music when I run – the sound of my labored breathing is demoralizing and distracting.
We line up, the three of us, shivering, and agree to meet at the finish line. The horn sounds and they dart out in front, taking off like cheeky little bats out of hell. I trudge along alone, missing my music, but certain the turtle will take the hares.
I passed Casey inside the first half mile. But near to a mile in, tragedy struck.
I had to pee!!!!  
Now I know serious runners, Olympic athletes and competitive marathoners for example, simply relieve themselves while running without missing a step. But I’m not hard core enough to piss my pants on a 3.1 mile run around the zoo and there was no way my bladder would wait for me to cross the finish line.
I ran off the course and into a restroom that, praise Jesus, wasn’t locked. And because it was cold struggled to get through the several layers of clothes I’d outfitted myself in. After I readjusted my clothing, washed my hands (hygiene is important, damn it) and rejoined the race assuming my children had passed me while I struggled with the lock on the stall door.
Just passed the 1.5 mile mark a woman fell in front of me. A woman that wouldn’t have been in front of me if I hadn’t had to pee when I did but I digress. A woman fell in front of me and she fell HARD. My options were 1) hurdle over her; 2) run around her; or 3) stop to help her. My mam raised me right and I stopped to help her up. Astonishingly, I was the only person who did though one guy did yell “You okay?” as he ran by. At this point, I figure I have no chance of catching up to my children and I’m just going to take the finish with grace and a sense of accomplishment for having finished at all. 
With only a ¼ mile to go (volunteers were set up at intervals shouting how far you had to go and offering encouragement), I see, at the top of a vicious hill by the cougar enclosure, CASEY. And she’s walking. Actually, she’s dicking with her phone possibly taking a picture of the big cats. And I think I’ve got a chance. I’m working hard to get up that hill and close the distance. But shit that was a hard hill to climb.
She glances back over her shoulder when I’m within a few yards of her. Shoots me a cocky grin and bolts. I crossed the finish 37 seconds behind her.
37 funky seconds. Damn my bladder.
She hugged me and laughed and told me I was a good person for stopping to help a stranger and how proud I should be of myself for what I accomplished. Then asked if I saw Morgen on the route. I hadn’t.
We waited, as agreed, at the finish. Thirteen minutes later, Morgen strolls over the finish line, happily chatting with an older woman. She saw me pass her only a quarter mile in and decided, since she knew she wouldn’t win, to just enjoy a nice walk through the zoo. We’re a family of fairly competitive people – Morgen’s lackadaisical view tends to baffle her sister and me.
The morning did not go as planned but we had a great time. We got brunch at a diner, went for much deserved mani-pedis, and were home before one.
Where I promptly took a nap.
My girls and I outside the finish line!

Friday, January 19, 2018

A RIVER OF SILENCE with Susan Clayton-Goldner #Interview


Today I am pleased to share an interview with Susan Clayton-Goldner, author of A RIVER OF SILENCE, the upcoming entry in her Detective Radhauser series.

Is There a Message in Your Novel That You Want Readers to Grasp?

A River of Silence is about a hearing-impaired man, Caleb Bryce, who is falsely accused and imprisoned for the murder of a 19-month old child. This is the 3rd book in my Detective Radhauser series. Because of pressure from both the small community of Ashland and his boss, Captain Murphy, Radhauser makes the arrest, but remains convinced Caleb Bryce is innocent. With the help of a young public defender, who wants to prove herself to her father, a world-renown criminal defense attorney, they set out to find the real killer and free Bryce.

The novel deals with issues of abandonment and the effects it has on the child even after he reaches adulthood. It also deals with alcoholism and its aftermath which can cling to the lives it affected for decades. Mental illness and disabilities is also a theme. And the book shows us that sometimes a person who is mentally challenged sees life in a more beautiful way than those of us who are “normal.” 

I’d also like to say that I’m so grateful to my readers. I had no idea how much it would mean to me to have a reader write a review or send me an e-mail about how much they enjoyed the book. It means more to me than royalties—just to know someone enjoyed and was moved by my story.

Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

Writing is hard work. It takes dedication and a willingness to spend long hours in isolation. There are times when family issues get in the way. Balancing can be difficult. And I’m often torn. I want to be the best possible wife, mother and grandmother. But I’m also driven to be the best storyteller I can be.   

How many books have you written and which is your favorite?

I’ve written 8 novels so far. I’d say my favorite is A Bend In The Willow because, more than any other of my books, this one draws from my life, what I’ve learned, what I’ve loved and what I regret.   

If You had the chance to cast your main character from Hollywood today, who would you pick and why?

I would choose Timothy Olyphant (from the Elmore Leonard Netflix series, Justified) to play Winston Radhauser because of his rugged good looks and the way he fills out a pair of jeans and a Stetson.

When did you begin writing?

I don’t think I decided to become a writer. I believe I was born a writer. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing. Let’s face it, writing is isolating and doesn’t pay very well. I’m not sure many people would choose to write if they could avoid it or were of sane mind.  When I was a little girl, my father won a Smith Corona portable typewriter in a poker game. He gave it me. It came with 45 rpm records guaranteed to have you typing. It was the beginning of my life as a writer. I taught myself how to type with the help of those records and starting writing poems and stories. I’ve never stopped. I went back to college after my children started school. This time I majored in creative writing.

How long did it take to complete your first book?

It generally takes me about a year to complete a novel. I’m trying to work faster these days because I now have a publisher and that has changed everything. I recently read a book about a woman who’d taken her productivity from 2,000 to 10,000 words per day. She gave me some very helpful hints about writing faster. And I strive to get 2,000 words a day now. It doesn’t always happen, but I am writing faster than in the past.  

Did you have an author who inspired you to become a writer?

I believe the first book I ever read that inspired me to be a writer was To Kill A Mockingbird. I was a child when I read it, but it remains my favorite book. Atticus Finch was such a wonderful character. He fought hard for what was right, for what he believed in, even though he knew victory was impossible. He was a man you never forget. He touched my life. I wanted to touch the lives of others by creating my own memorable characters.  

What is your favorite part of the writing process?

The best part of the writing process for me is when I get totally immersed in the fictive dream and all concepts of time disappear. People ask me if it is lonely being a writer and sitting in front of a computer screen for hours on end. Yes, it can be. But once the dream has captured you, it is thrilling, filled with excitement and adventure, and there is absolutely nothing I’d rather be doing.

Describe your latest book in 4 words.

Mysterious, heart-wrenching and human. 

Can you share a little bit about your current work or what is in the future for your writing?

I have just completed the edits and handed off a stand-alone novel to Tirgearr Publishing. It is entitled The Good Shepherd and is the story of a priest who falls in love with one of his parishioners and she ends up being murdered. I suspect it will release sometime in the summer of 2018.

I’m also working on the 4th book in the Detective Winston Radhauser series. It is entitled, A River of Shame and it is about the murders of two high school students in what appears to be hate crimes.



About A RIVER OF SILENCE:

When Detective Winston Radhauser is awakened by a call from dispatch at 12:45a.m., it can mean only one thing—something terrible awaits him. He races to the Pine Street address. In the kitchen, Caleb Bryce, nearly deaf from a childhood accident, is frantically giving CPR to 19-month-old Skyler Sterling. Less than an hour later, Skyler is dead.

The ME calls it a murder and the entire town of Ashland, Oregon is outraged. Someone must be held accountable. The police captain is under a lot of pressure and anxious to make an arrest. Despite Radhauser’s doubts about Bryce’s guilt, he is arrested and charged with first degree murder. Neither Radhauser nor Bryce’s young public defender believe he is guilty. Winston Radhauser will fight for justice, even if it means losing his job.


Enjoy this excerpt from A RIVER OF SILENCE:

Prologue ~ 1988

In only eleven minutes, Detective Winston Radhauser’s world would flip on its axis and a permanent line would be drawn—forever dividing his life into before and after. He drove toward the Pima County Sheriff’s office in Catalina, a small town in the Sonoran Desert just twelve miles north of Tucson. Through the CD speakers, Alabama sang You’ve Got the Touch. He hummed along.

He was working a domestic violence case with Officer Alison Finney, his partner for nearly seven years. They’d made the arrest—their collar was sleeping off a binge in the back of the squad car. It was just after 10 p.m. As always, Finney wore spider earrings—tonight’s selection was a pair of black widows he hadn’t seen before.

“You know, Finn, you’d have better luck with men if you wore sunflowers in your earlobes.”

She laughed. “Any guy intimidated by a couple 14-carat web spinners isn’t man enough for me.”

He never missed an opportunity to tease her. “Good thing you like being single.”

The radio released some static.

Radhauser turned off the CD.

Dispatch announced an automobile accident on Interstate 10 near the Orange Grove Road exit. Radhauser and Finney were too far east to respond.

Her mobile phone rang. She answered, listened for a few seconds. “Copy that. I’ll get him there.” Finney hung up, then placed the phone back into the charger mounted beneath the dashboard.

“Copy what?” he said. “Get who where?”

She eyed him. “Pull over. I need to drive now.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “What the hell for?”

Finney turned on the flashing lights. “Trust me and do what I ask.”

The unusual snap in her voice raised a bubble of anxiety in his chest. He pulled over and parked the patrol car on the shoulder of Sunrise Road.

She slipped out of the passenger seat and stood by the door waiting for him.

He jogged around the back of the cruiser.

Finney pushed him into the passenger seat. As if he were a child, she ordered him to fasten his seatbelt, then closed the car door and headed around the vehicle to get behind the wheel.

“Are you planning to tell me what’s going on?” he asked once she’d settled into the driver’s seat.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Her unblinking eyes never wavered from his. “Your wife and son have been taken by ambulance to Tucson Medical Center.”

The bubble of anxiety inside him burst. “What happened? Are they all right?”

Finney turned on the siren, flipped a U-turn, then raced toward the hospital on the corner of Craycroft and Grant. “I don’t know any details.”

TMC was a designated Trauma 1 Center and most serious accident victims were taken there. That realization both comforted and terrified him. “Didn’t they say the accident happened near the Orange Grove exit?”

“I know what you’re thinking. It must be bad or they’d be taken to the closest hospital and that would be Northwest.” She stared at him with the look of a woman who knew him almost as well as Laura did. “Don’t imagine the worst. They may not have been in a car accident. Didn’t you tell me Lucas had an equestrian meet?”

Laura had driven their son to a competition in south Tucson. Maybe Lucas got thrown. He imagined the horse rearing, his son’s lanky body sliding off the saddle and landing with a thump on the arena floor. Thank God for sawdust. Laura must have ridden in the ambulance with him.

But Orange Grove was the exit Laura would have taken on her drive home. The meet ended at 9:00 p.m. Lucas always stayed to unsaddle the horse, wipe the gelding down, and help Coach Thomas load him into his trailer. About a half hour job. That would put his family near the Orange Grove exit around ten.

The moon slipped behind a cloud and the sudden darkness seemed alive and a little menacing as it pressed against the car windows.

Less than ten minutes later, Finney pulled into the ER entrance and parked in the lot. “I’m coming with you,” she said.

He shot her a you-know-better look, then glanced toward the back seat where their collar was snoring against the door, his mouth open and saliva dribbling down his chin. It was against policy to leave an unguarded suspect in the car.

“I don’t give a damn about policy,” she said.

“What if he wakes up, hitches a ride home and takes out his wife and kids? Put him in the drunk tank. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.” He ran across the parking lot. The ER doors opened automatically and he didn’t stop running until he reached the desk. “I’m Winston Radhauser. My wife and son were brought in by ambulance.”

The young nurse’s face paled and her gaze moved from his eyes to somewhere over his head.

With the change in her expression, his hope dropped into his shoes. He looked behind her down a short corridor where a set of swinging doors blocked any further view. “Where are they?”

It was one of those moments he would remember for a lifetime, where everything happened in slow motion.

She told him to wait while she found a doctor to talk to him, and nodded toward one of the vinyl chairs that lined the waiting room walls.

He sat. Tried to give himself an attitude adjustment. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Laura or Lucas could be in surgery and the nurse, obviously just out of nursing school, didn’t know how to tell him.

He stood.

Paced.

Sat again. The hospital might have a policy where only a physician could relate a patient’s condition to his family.

His heart worked overtime, pumping and pounding.

When he looked up, a young woman in a lab coat with a stethoscope around her neck stood in front of him. She had pale skin and was thin as a sapling, her light brown hair tied back with a yellow rubber band. Her eyes echoed the color of a Tucson sky with storm clouds brewing. “Are you Mr. Radhauser?”

He nodded.

“Please come with me.”

He expected to be taken to his wife and son, but instead she led him into a small room about eight feet square. It had a round table with a clear glass vase of red tulips in the center, and two chairs. Though she didn’t look old enough to have graduated from medical school, she introduced herself as Dr. Silvia Waterford, an ER physician.

They sat.

“Tell me what happened to my wife and son.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It was an automobile accident on Interstate 10.”

The thread of hope he held started to unravel. “Are Laura and Lucas all right? I want to see them.”

Her throat rippled as she swallowed. “There is no easy way to say this, Mr. Radhauser. I’m so sorry for your loss. But there was nothing we could do for them.”

All at once the scene bleached out. The tulips faded to gray as if a giant flashbulb had gone off in his face. The doctor was rimmed in white light. He stared at her in disbelief for a moment, praying for a mistake, a miracle, anything except what he just heard. “What do you mean there was nothing you could do? This is a Level 1 Trauma Center, isn’t it? One of the best in the state.”

“Yes. But unfortunately, medical science has its limits and we can’t save everyone. Your wife and son were both dead on arrival.”

His body crumpled in on itself, folding over like paper, all the air forced from his chest. This was his fault. Laura asked him to take the night off and go with them. Radhauser would have avoided the freeway and driven the back way home from the fairgrounds. And everything would have ended differently.

He looked up at Dr. Waterford. What was he demanding of her? Even the best trauma center in the world couldn’t bring back the dead.

There was sadness in her eyes. “I’m sure it’s not any comfort, but we think they died on impact.”

He hung his head. “Comfort,” he said. Even the word seemed horrific and out of place here. Your wife and son were both dead on arrival. Nine words that changed his life in the most drastic way he had ever imagined.

“May I call someone for you? We have clergy on staff if you’d like to talk with someone.”

A long moment passed before he raised his head and took in a series of deep breaths, trying to collect himself enough to speak. “No clergy, unless they can bring my family back. Just tell me where my wife and son are.” His voice sounded different, deeper—not the same man who went to work that evening.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But when deaths occur in the ER, we have to move them down to the morgue.”

Radhauser stood. Beneath his anguish, a festering anger simmered. Laura was a good driver. He was willing to bet she wasn’t at fault. More than anything now, he needed someone aside from himself to blame.

Outside, a siren wailed, then came to an abrupt stop. The sound panicked Radhauser as he headed for the elevator, waited for the door to open, then got inside. He pushed the button to the basement floor. He’d visited this hospital morgue once before to identify a fellow police officer shot in a robbery arrest gone bad. The door opened and he lumbered down the empty hallway.

As he neared the stainless steel door to the morgue, a tall, dark-haired man in a suit exited. At first Radhauser thought he was a hospital administrator. The man cleared his throat, flipped open a leather case and showed his badge. “I’m Sergeant Dunlop with the Tucson Police Department. Are you Mr. Radhauser?”

“Detective Radhauser. Pima County Sheriff’s Department.”

Dunlop had a handshake Radhauser felt in every bone in his right hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Detective.”

“Are you investigating the accident involving my wife and son?” Radhauser looked him over. Dunlop wore a pin-striped brown suit with a yellow shirt and a solid brown tie—the conservative uniform of a newly-promoted sergeant. The air around them smelled like antiseptic and the industrial solvent used to wash floors. “Have you determined who was at fault?”

Dunlop hesitated for an instant. “Yes, I’m the investigating officer. From the eyewitness reports, your wife was not to blame. A Dodge pickup was headed south in the northbound lane of Interstate 10 near the Orange Grove exit. No lights. He hit her head-on.”

Radhauser cringed. The image cut deep. “Was he drunk?”

“I need to wait for the blood alcohol test results to come back.”

The anger building inside Radhauser got closer to the surface every second. Silence hung between them like glass. He shattered it. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You were on the scene. What did you see? What did the breathalyzer read?”

Dunlop’s silence told Radhauser everything he needed to know. “Did the bastard die at least?”

“He was miraculously uninjured. But his twin boys weren’t so lucky.” Dunlop’s voice turned flat. “They didn’t make it.” He winced, and a tide of something bitter and hopeless washed over his face. “The idiot let them ride in the pickup bed. Five fucking years old.”

“What’s the idiot’s name?”

“You don’t need to know that right now.”

Biting his lip, Radhauser fought against the surge of rage threatening to flood over him. “Who are you to tell me what I need to know? It’s not your wife and kid in there. Besides, I can easily access the information.”

Dunlop handed him a card. “I know you can. But you have something more important to do right now. We can talk tomorrow.” He draped his arm over Radhauser’s shoulder the way a brother or a friend might do.

The touch opened a hole in Radhauser’s chest.

“Say goodbye to your wife and son,” Dunlop said, then turned and walked away.

In the morgue, after Radhauser introduced himself, a male attendant pulled back the sheet covering their faces. There was no mistake.

“Do you mind if I sit here for a while?” Radhauser asked.

“No problem,” the attendant said. “Stay as long as you want.” He went back to a small alcove where he entered data into a computer. The morgue smelled like the hallway had, disinfectant and cleaning solution, with an added hint of formaldehyde.

Radhauser sat between the stainless steel gurneys that held Laura and Lucas. Of all the possible scenarios Radhauser imagined, none ended like this.

Across the room, two small body bags lay, side by side, on a wider gurney. The twin sons of the man who killed his family.

The clock on the morgue wall kept ticking and when Radhauser finally looked up at it, four hours had passed. He tried, but couldn’t understand how Laura and Lucas could be in the world one minute and gone the next. How could he give them up? It was as if a big piece of him had been cut out. And he didn’t know how to go on living without his heart.
###

For an entire year afterwards, Radhauser operated in a daze. He spent the late evening hours playing For the Good Times on Laura’s old upright piano. It was the first song they ever slow danced to and over their fourteen years together, it became their own.

He played it again and again. The neighbors complained, but he couldn’t stop. It was the only way he could remember the apricot scent of her skin and how it felt to hold her in his arms on the dance floor.

Night after night, he played until he finally collapsed into a fitful sleep, his head resting on the keyboard. The simple acts of waking up, showering, making coffee, and heading to work became a cruel pretense acted out in the cavernous absence of his wife and son.

Releasing everywhere January 24th
you can pre-order A RIVER OF SILENCE
for only 99¢ at the following venues:






About The Author

Susan Clayton-Goldner was born in New Castle, Delaware and grew up with four brothers along the banks of the Delaware River. She has been writing poems and short stories since she could hold a pencil and was so in love with writing that she became a creative writing major in college.

Prior to an early retirement which enabled her to write full time, Susan worked as the Director of Corporate Relations for University Medical Center in Tucson, Arizona. It was there she met her husband, Andreas, one of the deans in the University of Arizona's Medical School. About five years after their marriage, they left Tucson to pursue their dreams in 1991--purchasing a 35-acres horse ranch in the Williams Valley in Oregon. They spent a decade there. Andy road, trained and bred Arabian horses and coached a high school equestrian team, while Susan got serious about her writing career. 

Through the writing process, Susan has learned that she must be obsessed with the reinvention of self, of finding a way back to something lost, and the process of forgiveness and redemption. These are the recurrent themes in her work.

After spending 3 years in Nashville, Susan and Andy now share a quiet life in Grants Pass, Oregon, with her growing list of fictional characters, and more books than one person could count. When she isn't writing, Susan enjoys making quilts and stained-glass windows. She says it is a lot like writing--telling stories with fabric and glass.

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

It’s all about the SHIFT #MFRWHooks #FatedDesires


Jenna Gavin is searching for a fresh start and, more importantly, for balance. Her heart, and perhaps the hands of fate, have led her and her son to Trappers' Cove, Minnesota. Settling in the small, quirky town, she's not in the market for a casual relationship but finds herself in one with the young widower next door.

Former shortstop, Gabriel Foxx, is drawn to his difficult new neighbor. The more the prickly divorcee tries to keep him at arm's length, the more determined he is to break down her walls. He can't avoid the passion Jenna inspires and his friendship with Finn has him yearning for family,  but Gabe won't allow himself to feel more.

When friendship grows complicated by stronger emotions and mutual desire just isn't enough, will love be worth the risk?

On sale through January 31st ~ only 99¢ for Kindle readers  http://amzn.com/B071NFHZ4W

EXCERPT:

She had drifted closer to him. Or him to her. Jenna couldn’t be sure. But it would take only a shift of balance to touch her body to his. Life was about balance. And the shifting of worlds. In the space of a day her world had changed for better and for worse. She’d spent the previous nine years trying to find her balance again.

Jenna felt the familiar kick of desire. She’d never understood the girls who spoke of butterflies and stirrings. For her it was more akin to a donkey kick—pleasurable, sure, like the first jolt of caffeine in the morning and as sure and swift and strong. Her pulse sped up and she knew the vein in her neck would visibly pulse; it did when she was angry and when she was aroused. Gabe was sure to notice it. As she noticed his heart pounding against her palm in a rhythm she found seductive.

She raised her gaze from the back of her hand. His mouth was aligned with her own. She hadn’t realized how close in height they were. All she had to do was…shift.

“This is the longest conversation we’ve had.” Her voice was husky; she heard it, knew he would. He shifted, imperceptibly but she sensed it.

“Maybe this,” his voice was husky too, “is why.”

She thought she knew what he meant. The tension between them was awareness.

“The day we met I wanted to get close enough to see what color your eyes were. They’re gray. Like storm clouds. Perfect.”

Jenna could feel his breath on the flesh of her lips and her nipples tightened.

“Mom!”

Finn’s shout was punctuated by his feet drumming down the stairs. Gabe brushed his lips over the curve of her cheek, his eyes conveying amused regret, and slipped out the back door, barely making a sound. Jenna grabbed the counter and breathed. She needed to settle herself before her son found his way to the kitchen.

What the hell?



Also available at the following book-sellers:






Wednesday, December 20, 2017

She asked. He answered. #ALoveRestrained #MFRWhooks

http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com


Philadelphia police officer Kylee Parker is dedicated to protecting and serving. She sees the work in absolutes: right and wrong, black and white, good guys and bad guys. That is, until she chases a drug dealer into a dead-end alley and finds the bad boy she had a painful crush on throughout her teen years has turned into a more dangerous and more attractive man. 

Jayson Donovan knows he doesn’t deserve someone as good as Kylee Parker. As the right hand man to a local drug-pushing mobster, he’s solidly on the wrong side of Kylee’s moral compass. But he can’t help reaching for her time and again when he knows he shouldn’t. 

Even when his secrets threaten them both. 

A Love Restrained is on sale now for every Kindle reader only 99¢ http://geni.us/loverestrained

Enjoy the following excerpt from A Love Restrained: 


“Look at me.”
She couldn’t ever remember him talking to her like that. Even the arguments they had, he’d never used that rough voice with her. Her head snapped up, and her anger flashed out.
“That’s better. You want to hear me say what you already know? You want me to beg? Is that it? Not going to happen. I told you how I felt, told you what I wanted the day I came back.”
She remembered what he said that day: I love you. I’ve always loved you. He wouldn’t beg, but his feelings hadn’t changed. She wished she felt the same. “I can’t give you what you want.”
“Then take what you need.”
She took the two steps necessary to close the gap between them. She placed her palms on his shoulders and leaned close. I’ve got to be out of my mind. She feathered her lips across his and with a sense of homecoming she hadn’t expected she sunk into the caress on a soft moan. He growled and his arms banded around her. He whipped around, bracing her back against the car and plundering her mouth.
She’d asked. He answered.

Monday, December 11, 2017

MENAGE IN PARADISE Book Blast



Menage in Paradise
by Anya Summers
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An Erotic Romance
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ian has wanted Olivia from the moment they first met. They shared a torrid one-night-stand in Scotland a year prior and never spoke of it again. Now they are business partners, and Ian has plans to woo Olivia back into his bed permanently.
Eric Thomas is a drummer from the superstar rock band, The Harbingers. When he meets Olivia, he knows there’s something different about her. He wants her – and not just for the night.
But when the two Doms cause a stir with their antics on Pleasure Island as they each attempt to win Olivia, they will be forced to contemplate another means of attaining their prize. Can they convince Olivia to experience the fantasy of a ménage with them? And will what happens on Pleasure Island stay that way?
Publisher’s Note: While this steamy ménage is part of the bestselling Pleasure Island series, it can be read and enjoyed on its own.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXCERPT
What the hell had he just witnessed?
Ian’s stomach roiled as Olivia took his arm and helped him off the bloody ship. There was no way he could ride that hell beast back to Nassau when they were finished with their performance engagement.
No effin’ way. It would bloody kill him. Or at least, he’d wish he was dead. Not only was the Dramamine he’d taken ineffective, but Ian believed it had added to his seasickness. Hell wasn’t cold or hot, but the seesaw rolling of the ocean and any ship that thought it could sail over its incessant waves. 
Damn.
“What was that all about?” Ian asked, enjoying the feel of Olivia’s elegant hand as it gripped his arm. Concern creased her brow while she steered him off the boat. If he weren’t feeling so ill from the crossing, he’d erase her expression and replace it with something explicitly more carnal. Olivia had fussed over him below decks until he’d sent her away. He was a freaking Dom and rendered inert by the sea, completely bumbling his intentions to seduce Olivia back into his bed.
“That was Eric, from The Harbingers. We met him at Declan and Zoey’s wedding in Scotland. Remember?” she murmured and shot him an innocuous glance.
“In all honesty, not really. There were quite a few people there that weekend.” And when Ian thought of that wedding, recalled the events, there was only one image that came to mind: Olivia, naked and writhing beneath him in the wee hours after the wedding. They’d both had more to drink that night than had been wise.
They’d ended up having drunken hot sex in his room. Mind-blowing, ‘he could barely remember his name and wanted to have it again and again’ sex. Olivia had been conspicuously absent from his bed the following morning, leaving his room sometime while he’d slept off their amazing sex and booze. 
It was a night Ian had been hard pressed to forget.
In nearly a year since what he considered an event horizon, neither of them had discussed it, nor had the good sense to do it again. More’s the pity.
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AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.
Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.
Visit her website here:
Visit her on social media here:
Twitter: @AnyaBSummers
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Don’t miss these exciting titles by Anya Summers and Blushing Books!
Dungeon Fantasy Club Series
Her Country Master, Book 5  https://goo.gl/YWhLqm
Love Me, Master Me, Book 6  https://goo.gl/QlTE9u
Submit To Me, Book 7  https://goo.gl/Or8pYr
Her Wired Dom, Book 8  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MRJY9TF/
Pleasure Island Series
Her Music Masters, Book 2  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0711R9D1H/
Their Shy Submissive, Book 3  https://goo.gl/ufyJLn
Her Undercover Doms, Book 4  https://goo.gl/Jp41Wd
Her Rockstar Dom, Book 6
Duets & Dominance, Book 7
Ménage In Paradise, Book 8
Her Rodeo Masters, Book 9
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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION
Anya will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Soul Mates on #MFRWhooks


Shamed investigative journalist turned tabloid scribe Maggie O’Connell convinces her editor to let her go to Minnesota to research alleged werewolf sightings. Her first night in the woods, she gets trapped in an ancient sleeping bag, unintentionally attracts the attention of a bear, and is saved by the most unlikely of heroes: the very wolf she had come to investigate!
When she meets horse rancher Aidan Gael in the town market days later, she recognizes his eyes as those belonging to her champion. He dodges her every attempt to get to know him but undaunted Maggie launches a campaign to win over the recalcitrant Aidan.

Aidan tries desperately to avoid her; he both fears Maggie and fears for her. Neither man nor beast can resist her curious mind and courageous heart. One kiss threatens to break Aidan’s tenuous self-control but furthers Maggie’s resolve. But danger lurks at every turn. The curse Aidan fights to keep secret is only one of the obstacles that will test the strength of their bond. Together they will navigate the violence of both nature and of man in pursuit of their destiny.
Excerpt:

She saw the fur first, dark, nearly black in the muted moonlight. But it seemed too far above her line of sight to be a wolf. And the townspeople had said that the wolf was gray, not dark. Fear trickled up the back of her neck as the furry blur moved closer and became larger. It didn’t take long for the dark form to pass clearly into Maggie’s line of vision. A bear. Panic welled deep in her throat; she prayed the bear had neither seen her nor caught her scent. She moved her hand slowly toward her pack, toward her gun, when her elbow knocked over the Thermos of coffee. Its roll into the leaves sounded to Maggie like a cacophony of drums, and as she watched, horrified, the bear turned his head toward her. Forgetting to move stealthily, she scrambled for her gun with one hand and fought with the zipper on her sleeping bag with the other.  She cursed and prayed as she tugged at the sleeping bag, but the zipper didn’t budge. The bear advanced on her. She realized he wasn’t fully grown yet, but from her seated position on the forest floor he looked huge. She raised the gun with trembling hands, afraid she’d only enrage the animal in her attempt to protect herself—but perhaps since he wasn’t fully grown, she might be able to inflect enough pain to scare him away. At least long enough to get this damn sleeping bag off and get to her car. Her hand steadied as she took aim, waiting for the bear to get close enough for the gun to be effective but also close enough to hurt her with one well-placed swipe of his massive paws. 
“I’m so sorry.” She whispered as her finger flexed on the trigger. Without warning, a gray blur streaked into her path and Maggie instinctively lowered the nose of the gun. A wolf had placed itself between her and the bear. He growled low and threateningly at the bear. The bear grumbled in a loud, grumpy tone. The wolf continued to growl, slowly pushing the bear back until, finally, the bear turned and disappeared back into the night. Though the entire episode had taken only minutes, for Maggie time had slowed. Sweat puddled in the small of her back and her mouth tasted like her palm often smelled after gripping copper pennies for too long. 

The wolf was magnificent. His fur was a rich, dark gray. He was taller than any wolves she’d seen at the zoo and the breadth of his shoulders was impressive. She didn’t wonder at the bear’s decision to find his meal elsewhere, but sensed the wolf posed her no threat. Instead, she felt protected.