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Aren’t you the new Mistress… #MFRWHooks #LGBTQ #EroticRomance

Welcome to MFRWHooks!

Scroll to the end for more of this week’s tempting excerpts!

Mistress of Purgatory Point, by Adriana Kraft

BLURB

A tender ghost story and a sizzling erotic romance with a splash of BDSM, Mistress of Purgatory Point is also the deeply moving chronicle of the mid-life sexual awakening of a stoic widow who thought she’d already experienced her one allotted love.

Not quite fifty, recently widowed Martha Richards has just purchased the old sturdy house at the tip of Purgatory Point overlooking Minnesota’s Boundary Waters. She and her pastor husband often dreamed of retiring there on their summer canoe trips. Now, she welcomes the solitude and time to hone her jewelry making craft.

Forest Ranger Dan Ford, her reticent neighbor to the south, thinks the aloof newcomer has no clue what it takes to survive North Woods winters. Reluctantly, he volunteers to help her prepare the place for the inevitable blizzards.

Martha is shocked when local shop owner Natalie Bjorg says her jewelry exudes erotic passion. Natalie doesn’t stop there, but explains that as the new Mistress of Purgatory Point, Martha now holds the key to release its two ghosts: Ben and Stella have been trapped between worlds for nearly a century, waiting for an owner of their home to discover a love that matches their own and set them free.

One man, two women and two ghosts keep love’s fires burning through the deep chill of a North Woods winter—but which love will hold the key?

EXCERPT

Chapter One

“Aren’t you the new Mistress of Purgatory Point?”

Martha Richards tilted her head to the side and stared at her inquisitor. She’d never met the sprightly blonde, but then she’d only been in the combination book-and-craft store once before, to see if it seemed a worthwhile place to consign some jewelry pieces. Mistress of Purgatory Point. Really!

“I bought that property about a month ago,” Martha said in clipped tones. “I didn’t realize it came with a title.”

“Oh, it does,” the petite blonde bubbled, not in the least put off by the purposely cool response. “Oh, excuse me,” she said, smiling broadly, “I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Natalie Bjorg. I own this place.” She arched an eyebrow. “Well, I’m buying it from my parents, who moved to Florida over a year ago.”

Martha narrowed her eyes, “So you make decisions about what you will or won’t sell?”

“That’s right.” Natalie glanced at Martha’s shoulder bag. “Are you an artist?”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far.” Martha sighed. This was the hardest part of picking up her art again. Creating pieces, pouring her soul into them was one thing, but then she had to try and market them. “I do make jewelry from time to time, and I wondered if this shop might be interested in displaying them.”

“Come on over to my table,” Natalie said, pointing at one of four small round tables in a nook.

The intimacy of the nook surprised Martha. She could see it offered a pleasant place for customers to chat or read. So why were her palms sweating? Was she that anxious about her jewelry being rejected? There were several other shops in Ely that might work with her.

She scrutinized the shopkeeper as she pulled out a chair. Natalie Bjorg was hardly the kind of woman she’d expected to deal with when she’d entered the store, but if Natalie was the proprietor, she hardly had a choice. Natalie seemed rather young for the responsibility, though actually it was hard to determine the ages of women living year-round in Ely. Most of them spent so much time out on the Boundary Waters in the sun and wind or cross-country skiing in the winter that their tan skins made them appear ageless. “So you’re a native to the area?”

“Yep. Born and raised in Ely. Couldn’t imagine living any place else. Though I do want to travel more. Would you like some coffee? I don’t have the special blends, but I make good coffee.”

“Thanks. That would be nice.” Martha sighed softly, relaxing in spite of herself. How could she not, faced with such an infectious, energetic presence?

“So show me what you have,” Natalie said, after filling two coffee cups and pulling up a chair. “I am so pleased you came by. This is sort of our off season. Not much happens here until the snow flies.”

Holding her breath, Martha reached into her bag for a couple pieces wrapped in cloth. Carefully, she unwrapped the first piece, watching Natalie closely. The woman’s eyes rounded, and she gasped as soon as she saw the gold waxing moon pendant suspended from a circle.

“It’s beautiful!” Natalie exclaimed, with a hand at her throat. “You made that?”

“Of course.” Martha smiled. Why did people often seem so amazed by her creations? She pulled the cloth from the second piece, and again Natalie sat stunned. Martha caught herself grinning—probably the girl had seldom been without words.

“It’s so…so erotic. It’s absolutely stunning.”

BUY LINKS

Mistress of Purgatory Point is on sale for $3.00 from the publisher:

https://www.extasybooks.com/mistress-of-purgatory-point

Also available at these retail outlets:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Mistress-of-Purgatory-Point-ebook/dp/B003XRF09S

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/mistress-of-purgatory-point

Be sure to click on the links to travel to the rest of today’s excerpts!

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Deadeye ~ Teaser Tuesday #RABTBookTours #DeadEye #BonesMC #MCRomance @Marteekakarland @changelingpress

Bones MC, Book 13

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Action & Adventure

Date Published: 11/04/2022

 

 

Chloe — Manipulative on the best of days, my mother hooked up with the president of a powerful MC. When he retired, she decided to give me to a man I’ve never met. Guess she thought she’d  still be able to keep her status if I became the ol’lady of the new president. I have no idea what the men in the club are like and I’m not judging, but they wear the 1% patch and I know enough about MCs to know that can’t be good for a girl like me. 

Deadeye – I’m a patient man. Pride myself on that. So when I find a girl camping out under a rock watching the club, I camp out to watch her. The more I watch, the more I like what I see. Before I can make her mine, though, I need to find out why she’s here. No one’s more surprised than me when she tells me who her daddy is. Except maybe her daddy. Now I’m pitted against one of my own brothers. But the more I get to know the spunky little minx, the more I want her. And the more I realize I may have to kill my own MC brother and tear apart a rival MC looking for the woman meant to be their new president’s ol’lady.

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2022 Marteeka Karland

 

I was tired. So fucking tired. I’d only been on the run for five days, but it was five days of backwoods hell. Finding the place I needed to get to had been hard enough. Actually getting there without anyone seeing me had been a feat like I’d never undertaken before. Still don’t know how I managed it without getting hopelessly lost. But here I was.

The name of the club was Bones MC, Somerset, Kentucky. I’d walked all the way from Jeffersonville, Indiana to find this place. Compared to the club I’d come from this one was relatively small. But from what I’d learned, they were very close-knit and incredibly dangerous.

I was currently hiding under a rock overhang just tall enough for me to lie flat on my belly and watch the place. I’d covered myself with leaves and sticks, camouflaging my hiding spot as best I could. So far, no one had spotted me. If they had, they hadn’t busted me yet. I should have just gone into the clubhouse, but I wanted to scout the place out first. If there seemed to be too much shady shit going down, I’d just move on without wasting my time. Or putting myself in a worse position than I’d been in when I ran.

So far, there had been parties that got pretty loud and wild, similar to what I’d seen at Iron Tzars MC. The guys at Bones partied hard, but they worked hard, too. Beyond the large clubhouse was a neighborhood. There were what looked like high-end, double-wide mobile homes, but also a smattering of houses, with more going up. The two days I’d been hiding out, I’d seen several of the club members working throughout the day. If there were drug deals or arms sales going down, it wasn’t anywhere near their compound. There were women all over the place, but none of them seemed to be there against their will.

The weather was turning. Autumn rain was coming, if the sky was any indication. It was cold and damp, and I had no desire to spend another night under a rock. If I’d judged this place wrong, I was in trouble. Of course, if I didn’t get some decent shelter soon, I’d still be in trouble. I’d heard good things about this club in the community. They might not be law-abiding citizens, but they weren’t so bad they were feared by the whole city. I was counting on the reputation they’d apparently worked hard to build. If Bones turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, I was fucked, because I had nowhere else to go. And the one man I needed to see here, the one man who could help me in a way I could live with, had no idea I even existed.

Knowing there was nothing else I could find out without getting inside the place, I decided to quit being a pussy and stop stalling. I stood, looking down at my clothes. Having been outside under a rock for the better part of two days, I was filthy. Probably stank too. There was a creek just below my hiding place on the other side of the hill between me and the compound. I could wash there and change my clothes before trying to get inside. If I was lucky, they’d stop me at the gate and take me straight to the man I needed to see. I could only hope he remembered my mother. If not, I was probably screwed.

The wind had started to pick up, and there was a cold bite to it. I knew I needed to hurry, but not bathing and changing clothes simply wasn’t an option. If I came to their doorstep looking like a hobo, I was afraid no one would take me seriously. Or, worse, tell me to get the fuck on before they got rid of me.

I stripped, tossing my filthy, damp clothing to the ground. I kept the long-sleeved T-shirt to use as a washcloth, so I didn’t have to actually get in the creek. While it was still warm most days, the nights in this part of Kentucky were chilly this time of year. Shallow water, like the lazy stream here, had started to cool, making this bath seriously uncomfortable.

I’d never done this before. Bathed out in the open. In fact, though I’d lived in an MC for most of my life, roughing it wasn’t exactly in my repertoire. I’d never been camping. Or hunting. I’d been fishing occasionally but usually on a boat or a dock at the lake. All I’d had to eat the last five days were some snacks I’d managed to sneak out and a couple bottles of water I refilled every chance I got. Now, I was cold, dirty, hungry, and so fucking tired I just wanted to sleep for a fucking week.

“Well, now. What do we have here?” The lazy drawl made me jump and cry out. I tripped and landed on my ass, my naked body on full display.

The guy smirked as he looked down at me, his big arms crossed over a powerful-looking chest. His shoulders were wide, stretching the fabric of his Henley, as did his biceps. He had a full beard reaching about halfway down his chest. Cold, assessing blue eyes were fixed squarely on me.

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The Unmasking #TurningPoint #RomanticSuspense #LoveStory #Halloween

It’s Halloween! All month long we’ve been featuring our romantic suspense The Unmasking, structured around the Celtic/Pagan calendar. The story opens just before Halloween/Samhain. After sharing That Kiss on Halloween night, Nancy and Matt develop a fun-for-now flingat least, that’s what they’re thinking until this moment.

To write this scene, I ended up digging deep into my own experience. If you’re an author, do you ever write a critical moment from your own history into a book?

Last week I gave you a peek into our personal story with my Meet Cute post describing how Hubs and I met. I’d had my sights on him for a long time, but once we started dating, he got way ahead of me. Nancy’s dilemma in the moment below comes straight out of my history: I was afraid to say yes, but I was desperate not to lose him. Will Nancy take the plunge?

Matt has finally figured it out:

EXCERPT

“I love you, Nancy. And I don’t know what to do with you.”

Relief and fear swept over Nancy in such quick succession she couldn’t tell which was which. He loved her and he still wanted her – relief, she decided. That was a start. So what was the fear? Hold on. Take your time. Speechless, she searched his face, her eyes brimming with tears, the bare beginning of a smile playing at her lips.

Matt held her gaze. “Are you ready for an open, honest relationship? Wherever it leads? No secrets. No withholding. No trying to protect me. Tell me what you feel, what you want.”

There. That was the fear: he was too far ahead. Her smile froze in place. If she said no, she’d lose him. But she wasn’t ready to say yes, either. Could they wait it out? Where to start? Clearly, it was her turn to speak.

“I’ll try…”

…I hope you’ll read the book to find out if “I’ll try” is enough – but then it’s a romance, so you already know they’ll work it out. For Matt and Nancy, the secrecy and betrayals are far from over.

Oh, and what did I do? I said “yes” even though I was quaking in my boots. We had tough sledding for the next couple months, but I’ve never regretted my choice. Happy Halloween!

BLURB

Whose mask will crumble first—
the enigmatic professor of Celtic Studies,
the undercover cop masquerading as a co-ed,
or the campus stalker,
biding his time to strike again?

Is anthropology professor Matt Bayfield the Blackthorn College rapist, or a potential ally? Aloof and unapproachable, Matt has academic ambitions. He can’t escape Blackthorn College soon enough, and he doesn’t want any entanglements to slow down his exit.

Nancy Appleby would like nothing more than to solve the string of campus rape cases before Thanksgiving so she can go home. The last thing she wants is a relationship to complicate her life—but she’ll settle for a fling, especially when the sex sizzles.

The stalker has his own carefully crafted timetable, with a special date just for Nancy. Can Matt and Nancy force him out of his hidey-hole before it’s too late?

BUY LINK

Available exclusively at Amazon

Always FREE to read on Kindle Unlimited

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Review: Book Lovers, by Emily Henry #RomCom #BookReview #WomensFiction

Book Lovers is a serious book. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a fabulous RomCom, with countless laugh out loud moments. But it is never trivial, always raw and honest. Emily Henry has turned a classic trope upside down and given us the other woman, the other man, who don’t abandon the fast-paced city and don’t save a small town business and don’t fall in love with the simple life.

Why, you might ask? She’ll tell us, in her own words:

Romance is treated as a guilty pleasure, and in the last ten years or so I have asked myself a lot of questions about guilty pleasures and why I am made to feel guilty for enjoying these narratives. It’s as though these novels are just candy for your brain, bad for you, and do not teach you anything like a more ‘serious’ book would. I wanted to challenge that notion. [London Magazine Interview with Emily Henry]

She absolutely succeeds, with all three of the romance novels that have expanded her genre niche from YA to women’s fiction/romance. In order, these are Beach Read, People You Meet on Vacation, and Book Lovers.

I’d never heard of her until last spring, when my next door neighbor gave me her copy of People We Meet on Vacation before she headed back north at the end of the season. I don’t own or read many print books – when we sold our house in 2012 and lived/traveled/wrote across the country in our motor home for the next six years, Kindle was the way to go. Our most treasured print books lived in our son’s basement until we settled in 2018, and we now live in a tiny house that doesn’t have room for shelves upon shelves of books.

I packed People We Meet on Vacation along for my flight to visit a Chicago friend in July – and could hardly put it down. I was a convert. I gave it to my friend at the end of my visit, but I immediately downloaded and read first Beach Read, and then Book Lovers. I loved all three of these books. It fascinates me that the heroines in each book make their living in the world of writing: a RomCom author (Beach Read), a travel writer (People We Meet on Vacation), and a romance/women’s fiction agent (Book Lovers). Write what you know. Somehow Henry is able to both be in the tumultuous world of authors-agents-editors-publishers that make up women’s fiction while simultaneously seeing through it, poking fun at it, and challenging its tropes and assumptions. Brilliantly.

I love seeing a best-selling author dare to do that. Her characters are far more clever than any real people I know, but I love their snappy repartee. What especially captures me is the intense honesty in each of her protagonists – they may start off not being honest with either themselves or each other, but the choices they must make force the honesty to surface, and that’s the arc of each book. Oh, and a happy ending, which by then is both deeply sought and desirable.

I highly recommend all three books, and it doesn’t matter which order you choose to read them in.

Beach Read

https://www.amazon.com/Beach-Read-Emily-Henry-ebook/dp/B07XNKRV83/

People We Meet on Vacation

https://www.amazon.com/People-Meet-Vacation-Emily-Henry-ebook/dp/B08FZNYQJC/

Book Lovers

https://www.amazon.com/Book-Lovers-Emily-Henry-ebook/dp/B09BTQ9HW6/

        

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The Mind of the Villain #TBT #RomanticSuspense #KU #Halloween #MFRWAuthor

Halloween’s almost here! Did you think we were going to give away the villain’s secrets on this last Throw Back Thursday in October? Think again – but what we will do is share the opening of a creepy letter he sent her:

“Dear Detective: You may be good at games, but I am a master at them. I can hardly wait… Rest assured you are the chosen one. You will reign at the fire – no one else will do. Only one more pretender before you will mount the throne.

BLURB

Whose mask will crumble first—
the enigmatic professor of Celtic Studies,
the undercover cop masquerading as a co-ed,
or the campus stalker,
biding his time to strike again?

Is anthropology professor Matt Bayfield the Blackthorn College rapist, or a potential ally? Aloof and unapproachable, Matt has academic ambitions. He can’t escape Blackthorn College soon enough, and he doesn’t want any entanglements to slow down his exit.

Nancy Appleby would like nothing more than to solve the string of campus rape cases before Thanksgiving so she can go home. The last thing she wants is a relationship to complicate her life—but she’ll settle for a fling, especially when the sex sizzles.

The stalker has his own carefully crafted timetable, with a special date just for Nancy. Can Matt and Nancy force him out of his hidey-hole before it’s too late?

BUY LINK

Available exclusively at Amazon

Always free to read on Kindle Unlimited

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The Eggplant Story ~ Is This a #MeetCute? #RomCom #RomanceReads

Since Hubs and I don’t write Rom Com or Chick Lit, we don’t really write Meet Cutes, at least not on purpose. A Meet Cute might set an odd tone for our romantic suspense and erotic romance stories…

But having got this far, I’m thinking that how he and I met might be a true-life Meet Cute. Here’s our story—we’d love to hear whether it qualifies. For that matter, if any of you have a real Meet Cute in your life, we’d love to hear about it!

The first time I ever saw my husband, I was a grad student and an instructor in a new program at my university.

Early that fall, the entire school faculty were gathered in the lobby for the introduction of new hires. There were only two or three new faces, but a distinguished looking bearded man with mischievous eyes stood out to me immediately. It got even better when it turned out he was a new addition to the program I was teaching in. I won’t say I stalked him—but I will say that when I got home, I told my roommate about him, and through her contacts in a similar field, she got me his bio.

Fast forward to a Chicago January: Snow is piled high in streets and on sidewalks, and our program is having a potluck an hour’s drive away. I have a car (which I’ve duly shoveled out). The new professor does not have one. A fellow prof suggests that I give him a ride, he accepts, and we have an hour each way to talk to each other. I had two conclusions at the end of the evening – I was very definitely interested in him (okay, I was crushing on him), and I suspected he was living with someone (someone who wouldn’t share her car? Wasn’t sure).

The following week he materialized in my office doorway to ask me for the recipe of the dish I’d brought to the potluck. Triumph! I shared it – and nothing else happened for five more months. He had some loose ends to tie up, it turns out…

Our first date (finally!) was that June, and we married the following June.

Why is this the Eggplant Story? Because the dish I’d taken to the potluck was one of my favorite veggie recipes of my mom’s, an eggplant-tomato-bacon casserole. Hubs and I had been married for over two years when the confession finally came: He’d had no idea which dish was mine—he was just looking for a way to start a conversation with me, and he hates eggplant.

We’re still married.

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Hard Work Pays Off ~ Blood Sugar, Aerobics and Strength Training #LiveLonger #StayFit #IndieAuthor

I can still hear our now-grown son as he got back in the car on his first day of Kindergarten, in a rush to tell me: “Guess what we learned, Mom? Hard work pays off!” Which may not always be true, but it’s a starting place, at least.

Did I think about working to stay healthy when I was a young adult? Not too much – I just was healthy, without especially thinking about it. I was active, ate reasonably well, didn’t have much flab, and enjoyed activities like hiking, swimming, boating (with a small footwell sailboat, nothing elaborate), bowling on occasion, doing walks for various charities and causes.

Did I ever actively plan to work at being or getting healthy? No. I backed into it. I gained about twenty pounds with my one and only pregnancy; life happened, and I only managed to get ten of those pounds off while that child was growing up.

In 2015, I discovered (or rather my primary care doc discovered) that I had problems with blood glucose levels. My clinic referred me to a six week diabetes education class, where I learned the basics of diet and exercise for diabetes prevention. I’d thought I was a healthy eater, especially after we revised our diet following my husband’s triple bypass a decade earlier. But there were specifics about carbs and fiber that got left out of that training. The exercise information focused on aerobic activities. I bought a Fitbit, started keeping track of steps, and lost the other ten pounds. Living in the Southwest, we have many marvelous options for hiking.

By 2020, those habits weren’t taking care of the problem. I have a genetic load for both diabetes and Alzheimer’s, and I desperately want to avoid having to use medication to control my blood sugar levels. My doc referred me to a year-long weekly class (on Zoom, during the pandemic) which was superb.

There, in addition to further refining diet (and writing everything down while I straightened that out), I also learned about the role of strength training. Strong muscles pull sugar out of the bloodstream and put it to work. After three months of following the new guidelines, I saw my blood sugar drop back down below the threshold. That class ended a year ago, and I’m still maintaining those levels. And the workouts. And the walking.

So I was more than thrilled when Hubs sent me the following article:

Combining weight training with another activity could lower your risk of early death, study finds.

https://www.cnn.com/2022/09/27/health/weight-exercise-benefits-lower-death-risk-wellness/index.html

Not only am I likely to live longer, I’m likely to be healthy enough to enjoy a lot of those years.

P.S. If any of you readers are concerned about your blood sugar level, you might be able to access the DPP Diabetes Prevention Program I attended. It’s put out by the CDC (US), and in Arizona it was free to participate.

https://www.cdc.gov/diabetes/prevention/index.html

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#NewRelease Love, Lorena, by @AuthorIvyLJames #LGBTQIA+ #Giveaway

Title: Love, Lorena

Author: Ivy L. James

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 10/18/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 57950

Genre: Contemporary Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, lesbian, bisexual, light romance, royalty, matchmaker, arranged/forced marriage, modern fairy tale, flirting, interracial/intercultural, pets, family drama

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Description

Lorena García Fernández has built her matchmaking company, “Love, Lorena,” from the ground up, but her parents refuse to acknowledge the business as legitimate. Hoping to impress them, she travels to Ìovoria to find Crown Prince Callum a match. However, when Callum unexpectedly abdicates, his wild sister, Rosamund, becomes the crown princess and Lorena’s new client.

Lorena knows “Rowdy Rosamund” from the news headlines, but as she helps the princess, she learns there’s more to Rose than her public persona. The two women grow closer with each date Lorena sets up for the crown princess, and Lorena finds herself falling for Rose.

With only a month to find the perfect match, each failure increases the pressure to succeed. How will Lorena choose between her duty and her heart?

Excerpt

Love, Lorena
Ivy L. James © 2022
All Rights Reserved

In her rural Virginia office, Lorena García Fernández bypassed the usual salacious story about the Ìovorian princess and snipped out the article about her business trip. The blades of her scissors slid through the newspaper in long, clean lines, perfectly even on every side. Although she sometimes wondered why Westmoreland County still used physical newspapers, she had to admit it was handy now.

She set the article in its frame and glanced at the front door to see if her second-in-command had arrived. No sign of her, but then again, it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. Cool early-morning sunlight streamed through the windows and glass door. Lorena straightened the clipping, pressed the back of the frame into place, and double-checked how it looked from the front. Flawless. She rose from her chair and hung the article on the wall between two testimonials, neat and level.

Her ginger cat, Amado, rubbed against her ankles before hopping onto the desk, his tail twitching impishly. He wove between two photos of Lorena in Ìovoria—one selfie set in rolling green hills, one in the ancient capital city—and leapt onto the windowsill, where he settled to chirp at a bird.

The lock clicked, and the bell over the front door jingled. In walked Lorena’s best friend and vice president, Natascha Barclave, juggling her purse and several binders overflowing with papers. Her mouse-brown curls were pulled into a french braid but already frizzing around the edges of her freckled face. She reached out with one full hand and flipped the CLOSED sign to OPEN with her pinkie finger. “I’m here, I’m here. And it may not look like it, but I’m fully prepared for the Johnson intake interview at ten.”

“Are those my Wallace-Díaz notes?” Lorena took the binders and set them safely on the welcome desk. “What the hell did you do to them?”

“Chill. Everything’s still in there. It’s just a little, um, messier.” Natascha dropped her purse onto the desk chair. They did their quick secret handshake and bumped fists before getting back to business. “I took Casey Bright home, too, and ran the numbers. We should set her up with Allie Masterson. They were a 90 percent match in the algorithm, and I think they’d get along well.”

Lorena flipped through the Bright binder and found the printout of the results. Promising indeed. “Okay, let’s talk first-date options after my eight o’clock review with Eve Ebron.”

Her work cell rang atop her desk. Lorena snatched up the phone and pressed it to her ear. “Thank you for calling Love, Lorena. This is Lorena. How can I help you?”

“Good morning, love!” The two familiar, Ìovorian-brogued voices sounded far away: Teague and Ailsa Duglass on speakerphone. The two thirtysomething aristocrats talked over each other before Ailsa shushed Teague and asked Lorena, “How’s your first day back in the office? Is the jet lag bad?”

“Not too bad, but I will say I already miss Ìovoria.” She leaned against the desk. “How are y’all?”

“Enjoying the honeymoon you planned for us.” Teague’s smile shone through his voice.

“Thank you again for everything you did, bringing us together,” Ailsa said. “It was all straight out of a fairy tale. I never thought I had a perfect match, but you found him.”

“Think you’ll find that someone special of your own soon?” Teague asked.

Lorena’s throat closed, but she tossed out a blasé “Nah. My to-do list is long enough.” As if she couldn’t be bothered, as if she’d hardly considered it at all. As if her own parents’ brutal divorce hadn’t convinced her long ago love wasn’t in the cards for her. Not now, not ever.

“Not to worry, we won’t hold you up. You’ve plenty of clients to help, I’m sure.” Ailsa paused meaningfully. “We wanted to let you know a little something special is coming your way soon.”

A thank-you card, maybe? If Lorena was lucky, it would include a hefty tip. Running an international matchmaking company wasn’t cheap. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Ailsa corrected her. “I’ve never been happier in my life. You have a gift, you know?”

Lorena’s heart warmed. Nothing felt as good as a satisfied customer.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Ivy L. James wrote her first story on Post-it notes as a child. Since then, she has graduated to regular paper and enjoys writing inclusive, heartwarming romance as a way to counterbalance the negativity in the world. She lives in Maryland with her partner and their corgi, cat, and two snakes.

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The Mind of the Villain #TBT #RomanticSuspense #KU #Halloween #MFRWAuthor

For Throwback Thursday, here’s another peek into the mind of our villain. Tension is amping up! By now, Nancy and Matt have figured out the villain’s timing, but they still have no clue who he is, who he’ll target next, or how to stop him.

He sobered against the stiff wind. Did Detective Appleby think she was invulnerable to his gift? No goddess could resist the gift of his Robyn. And she was a goddess. Maybe more dangerous than the others, but certainly he knew now what the universe had been trying to tell him.

The irony was that she thought she was hunting him. None of the others were that eager to receive his gift. But she’d have to wait her turn.

BLURB

Whose mask will crumble first—
the enigmatic professor of Celtic Studies,
the undercover cop masquerading as a co-ed,
or the campus stalker,
biding his time to strike again?

Is anthropology professor Matt Bayfield the Blackthorn College rapist, or a potential ally? Aloof and unapproachable, Matt has academic ambitions. He can’t escape Blackthorn College soon enough, and he doesn’t want any entanglements to slow down his exit.

Nancy Appleby would like nothing more than to solve the string of campus rape cases before Thanksgiving so she can go home. The last thing she wants is a relationship to complicate her life—but she’ll settle for a fling, especially when the sex sizzles.

The stalker has his own carefully crafted timetable, with a special date just for Nancy. Can Matt and Nancy force him out of his hidey-hole before it’s too late?

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That Kiss! #MFRWHooks #RomanticSuspense #Samhain #UndercoverCop #KU

Welcome to MFRWHooks!
Scroll to the end for more of this weeks tempting excerpts

The Unmasking, by Adriana Kraft

BUY LINK  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00IDVB6KQ/
Always free at Kindle Unlimited

BLURB

Whose mask will crumble first—
the enigmatic professor of Celtic Studies,
the undercover cop masquerading as a co-ed,
or the campus stalker,
biding his time to strike again?

Is anthropology professor Matt Bayfield the Blackthorn College rapist, or a potential ally? Aloof and unapproachable, Matt has academic ambitions. He can’t escape Blackthorn College soon enough, and he doesn’t want any entanglements to slow down his exit.

Nancy Appleby would like nothing more than to solve the string of campus rape cases before Thanksgiving so she can go home. The last thing she wants is a relationship to complicate her life—but she’ll settle for a fling, especially when the sex sizzles.

The stalker has his own carefully crafted timetable, with a special date just for Nancy. Can Matt and Nancy force him out of his hidey-hole before it’s too late?

EXCERPT

Set Up: It’s Samhain—after leaving Professor Bayfield’s Celtic lecture, Nancy’s determined to smoke out the stalker; she’s pretty sure he spots his victims at a local bar…

At the bar two hours later, Nancy sat on a bar stool next to the open space where patrons came to place their orders. Her purse lay on the stool beside her so there would be plenty of room for her perp to sit down—if he ever arrived. She’d wait another half hour and then make her exit. She was nearly certain the man was somewhere in the smoky bar.

Slowly adding another layer of lipstick, Nancy studied her image in the mirror that stretched the full length of the row of liquor bottles behind the bartender. She hardly recognized herself. Her own dark hair was tucked under an auburn wig. Fake contacts made her eyes appear dark brown instead of gray. The sweater she wore dipped low, revealing much more of her breasts than she preferred, but then she was trying to fulfill every man’s dream. She hoped her red leather mini-skirt screamed availability. Once again, she had on the calf length black boots. They provided her with some sense of being covered up as well as warmth. Now all she needed was a man—the right man.

She took a sip of Coors and watched a new patron enter the room still huddled over from fighting the cold wind. He straightened and stepped into the light.

Nancy raised a hand to cover her largely exposed breasts. It couldn’t be, she screamed to no one. It couldn’t be. She looked away and then peeked back at the man approaching the bar. Holy shit! It was.

Be calm. He won’t recognize you. You’re in disguise. And what in the hell was Matt Bayfield doing here? This wasn’t his kind of scene. She closed her eyes, taking in the lilting Celtic music. Of course it was, tonight. She should have remembered that. She shivered and then warmed to her task. It might be fun observing the man when he didn’t realize she was even nearby.

Nancy concentrated on her beer and nearly snickered when Bayfield came to the bar to order a drink. His fingers drummed against the bar surface no more than two feet from her arm. The bartender was busy at the other end of the bar and Bayfield’s impatience was evident.

At last, the bartender nodded at Bayfield. “What can I get for you?”

“A glass of chardonnay,” Bayfield said, distinctly as if the man might be hard of hearing.

The man wiped his hands on his once white apron. “Drinking heavy tonight, huh?”

Nancy gave Bayfield credit for not rising to the bartender’s bait.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Bayfield accept his drink and change. His gaze swept above her trying to locate a seat in the crowded tavern. His eyes lowered meeting hers. She tried to control her racing pulse. He shook his head. And then his eyes bugged.

“Ms. Cr—”

Before he could mutter another syllable, Nancy leaped to her feet, wrapped her arms around his neck, and planted the biggest, wettest kiss she could muster on his mouth, swallowing the rest of her name and his breath. He stumbled backward. She refused to let him go, imprinting her lips on his.

She started to release him, but then one of his hands pressed against her back and the other curved over her buttocks. Her eyes widened. Professor Bayfield was kissing her! Not about to pass up this opportunity, Nancy closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment.

His tongue pushed into her open mouth; she greeted it with her own. He brought a hand between them and squeezed a breast. Her eyes flew open. Would she burn up right there in the damn bar? As if he sensed her changing mood, Bayfield’s eyes sprang as wide open as hers. He started to pull away.

Applause and hoots broke out from bar patrons. Steins were raised in salute.

Nancy and Matt looked sheepishly at the other patrons. “Don’t say a word, Bayfield,” Nancy said, still holding him close. “I can explain everything, but we’ve got to get out of here, now.” He started to open his mouth. Brushing her lips across his, she whispered, “Please, don’t say my name. It could be a matter of life and death.”

Be sure to click on the links to travel to the rest of today’s excerpts!

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