Giveaway – The Champagne Crush by Caroline O’Connell @xpressotours @ParisRomance #thechampagnecrush

Posted on September 19, 2025 by fundinmental

The Champagne Crush
Caroline O’ Connell
(Les Femmes Series)
Publication date: September 16th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

For fans of The Paradise Problem, a slow-burn romance about a socialite in over her head in a high-stakes job promoting a new sparkling wine with a difficult boss who wants to see her fail—despite the electric sparks flying between them.

Catherine Reynolds has enjoyed a life of luxury, but her diplomat parents have cut her off financially, leaving her flat broke. She is determined to turn things around and gain her independence—so, when an old family friend offers her a lifeline as a PR consultant for his sparkling wine company, she jumps at the chance. But working with Chris McDermott, the company’s sexy, stubborn president, is anything but easy.

A purist at heart, Chris clashes with Catherine’s glitzy marketing flair; still, the chemistry between them is undeniable. As they travel from New York to Napa, Paris, and the Champagne region of France, their partnership blossoms amid high-stakes industry rivalries and a launch that could make or break them.

When sabotage threatens to shatter their dreams, Catherine must dig deep to prove her worth. With the dazzling unveiling of their new sparkling wine in Bordeaux in jeopardy, will she and Chris overcome the challenges of the past and present to secure their future—and find love in the process?

EXCERPT

Chris McDermott’s Family Ranch in Napa, CA
(Dinner after an all-day TV shoot in the vineyards)

The kitchen door swung open and Catherine walked in. She’d changed for dinner into black skinny jeans and a caramel V-neck sweater that accented her honey-blonde hair, which she wore down. Chris couldn’t help staring. Now that’s my type. She looks delectable.
He went behind the bar to pour her a drink. “What is your pleasure, Miss Reynolds?”
“I’ll have what you’re drinking.” She stepped over to join him.
“Excellent choice.” He held the bottle for her to inspect then poured wine into her glass.
“I don’t know that label. Kenmare Cabernet.” Catherine swirled the wine in the glass, put her nose over the rim to sniff, and took her first sip. “This is good. Is it a local wine?”
“I’m glad you approve. You’re one of the select few to sample the first cabernet sauvignon from the McDermotts’ new wine label, Kenmare—my mother’s maiden name and a town in Ireland where our family is from.”
She took another sip. “You mentioned a family wine. I didn’t know you were this far along. Is it sold anywhere?”
“Not yet.” Chris explained how anyone could produce a custom wine with their own label by buying grapes from quality growers, renting winery equipment, and using an experienced winemaker. Chris and his dad knew the valley well, so they were able to choose the best grapes and oversee the process themselves.
The last five years they’d been using grapes solely grown on their property. Since they intended to build their own winery, these bottles were a preview they’d been sharing with local restaurants and distributors.
“This reminds me of wines I’ve tasted in Bordeaux,” Catherine said.
“Yes, wines labeled Bordeaux are usually a blend of cabernet sauvignon and merlot,” he said. “We’ll see how they compare when we’re in Bordeaux for Vinexpo.”
Maura appeared at the door. “Dinner’s on.” 
“Sounds good. I’m famished,” his dad said.
They carried their wineglasses into the dining room. His dad pulled out Maura’s chair next to him and sat at the head of the table. Chris pulled out a chair for Catherine on the other side of his father and sat next to her.
“Everything smells delicious,” Catherine said.
“Thanks, dearie.” Maura passed the platter of chicken marsala with parmesan risotto for Catherine to serve herself first.
Chris noticed how close the two women seemed to have become in just one day. In this setting, Catherine seemed more relaxed. It appealed to him. Chris topped off their wine while his dad filled water glasses from the pitcher on the table.
“This roasted asparagus looks so fresh,” Catherine said.
“I found it at the farmers market yesterday,” Maura said.
With Catherine’s interested prodding, the conversation at dinner continued with Chris and his father explaining their plans for the McDermott winery.
When they were finishing the fig tart dessert with freshly whipped cream from their dairy, his dad leaned over to Chris. “Why don’t you show Catherine our current operation? It’s not much yet, but she’ll be able to say she saw a world class winery in its early stages.” He stood up and grabbed his plate. “I’ll help Maura clear the dishes. You two can take off.”
Chris didn’t need prompting. He was feeling inexplicably drawn to Catherine. The temperature outside dropped quickly, so he bundled her up in one of his warm leather jackets. It was three sizes too big, which only made her look more adorable.
They stepped onto a moonlit path and walked a short distance to the temporary winery: an aluminum-sided structure that held rudimentary winemaking equipment next to cases of empty bottles. A walk-in cooler held samples of the wines they’d already produced laid horizontally on racks. On the far end of the room, a partial wall separated the “office”—an old metal desk, a long table with office equipment and a computer, one file cabinet, shelves brimming with books and magazines, and a large bulletin board with articles and graphs clipped on it.
“I know it doesn’t look like much yet,” Chris said. “But it’s the genesis of our dream. My dad and I have been working toward this moment for many years, the chance to create our own family wine.”
He held out his hand. “Let’s go sit outside. It’s such a clear night, we should be able to see the stars.”
They sat on hay bales near the barn, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to keep her warm. He pointed up to the sky. “Most nights you can see the constellations and major stars, unless there’s cloud cover.” He pulled her closer. “There’s Venus . . .”
“Named after the Roman goddess of love and beauty . . .” Catherine chimed in.
Seems the beauty is right here, sitting next to me. “How about you, Catherine Reynolds? What are your dreams?”
She tucked her hands into the jacket pockets. “Unlike you, my dreams have changed over time. When Vanessa and I were teenagers, we went into modeling.” She made a face. “It’s not as glamorous as people think. Now, I’d like to pursue a career in the hospitality sector.” She sighed. “Still working that out.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you in the beginning. I think you’re a wonderful asset to the company.” And to my life.
He stood up and silently offered his hand, pulling her up to face him. An owl hooted nearby, momentarily jarring him from his intent to steal a kiss. He took a deep breath and gazed into her upturned face. Her long-lashed eyes blinked as she looked into his questioningly.
“We’d better get going.” He turned her around and draped his arm over her shoulders as they walked back. When they reached the guest cottage, he gave her a warm hug and walked off. She’s too appealing. I’m falling fast.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

Also check out Caroline’s other book, Affordable Paris Hotels!
Your Ultimate Guide to a Perfect Trip to Paris is the must-have resource for travelers who want charm, comfort, and location—without the luxury hotel price tag.

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Author Bio:

CAROLINE O’CONNELL has written five travel guides and numerous travel articles for magazines, newspapers, and websites. Her Romance In Paris guide has won widespread praise: “There is no better person to guide you through Paris than Caroline” — Peter Greenberg, the Travel Detective, radio host, and Travel Editor on CBS-TV. And Library Journal raved — “Reading this breezy but informative guide to Paris is like having a series of conversations with a well-traveled friend…”

Her debut novel, THE CHAMPAGNE CRUSH: A Romance Novel (Spark Press), is due out on September 16, 2025.

Website / Goodreads / Twitter

GIVEAWAY!

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Giveaway – Ride A Dark Trail by Winter Austin @partnersincr1me

Posted on September 19, 2025 by fundinmental

RIDE A DARK TRAIL

by Winter Austin

September 15 – 26, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

SYNOPSIS

A Bounty of Shadows Book

Will her life philosophy, “Do right, fear no man,” get her killed?

A string of bad luck has left former Army helicopter pilot Dot Ybarra with a serious case of wrecked nerves and a need for peace and solace at her family’s Idaho ranch. Instead, she encounters a desperate mother who stumbles onto their land, begging Dot to rescue her kidnapped daughter.

There’s a bounty on the kidnapper’s head, and fugitive recovery agent T.J. Roman is not about to let that paycheck slip through his fingers. Together, he and Dot rescue the child.

But their actions set off an explosion of secrets in Euskadi. The sheriff is slinking around with a new shady sidekick, Dot’s friends are stabbed, and armed mercenaries attack her ranch, forcing her to use her hunting and archery skills to defend her family. Cornered by the unknown enemy’s three-pronged attack, Dot and her charges retreat deep into the Payette National Forest. Isolated in the mountainous forest, separated from T.J. and any help, Dot must make a hard choice: fight or walk away?

Will her first recovery job be her last?

Praise for Ride a Dark Trail:

“With sharp characters you’ll want to stand up and root for, Winter Austin creates an eye-popping Idaho setting for us to enjoy with Ride a Dark Trail.”

“Echoes of Yellowstone meets Magnum P.I. come together in a chilling Idaho plot you’ll want to get to the bottom of.”

“After reading Ride a Dark Trail, you’re going to hope there’s a real-life Dorothy Ybarra out there in today’s world.”

Book Details:

Genre: Modern Western Thriller
Published by: Tule Mystery
Publication Date: August 18, 2025
Number of Pages: 310
ISBN: 9781967678082 (ISBN10: 1967678081)
Series: Bounty of Shadows, Book 1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Apple | Goodreads | BookBub | Tule Publishing

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

His ghost always joined her for the final drag on an Ave Maria Dark Knight cigar.

He started appearing two months into her newly formed habit. Always in his sweat-stained, gray Open Road Stetson and wool-lined coat with a few less wrinkles in his face. Here, in the goats’ lean-to, where she’d taken to hiding out to have her smoke so as to not offend her mother’s senses.

At his first appearance, she swore it was a hallucination. The second time, she flipped out. With each appearance since she became more belligerent, while he grew more persistent.

“Biloba, why do you keep doing this thing?”

She blew out the smoke. “Go away, Aitonatxo.”

Her grandfather shook his head. One of the goats meandered through his transparent legs, disrupting his stern reproach. Aitona turned his withering look to the red-brown doe munching on hay.

“Goats. She just had to get goats.”

A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth as she drew on the cigar for the last time. One year after her grandfather passed, her mother had sold the last of the sheep, turned the ranch into an outfitter and hunting business, bought horses and mules for it, then goats just for the hell of it. The small herd had come in real handy in keeping the overgrowth of underbrush and weeds under control, saving the ranch a time or two from wildfires. The milking goats also made convenient pack animals when there was need for nourishment up in the mountains.

Aitona didn’t roll over in his grave. No, he came back to fucking haunt her and complain about the goats.

“Dorothy Ybarra, where are you?”

His specter vanished with her last puff of smoke. Before her mother could barge into the goats’ lean-to and give her hell for smoking in the building, Dorothy ground the butt into the bottom of her boot. One disapproving familia was enough, even if Aitonatxo was an apparition of her mind.

Angela Ybarra rounded the edge of the lean-to’s weathered support post, her pack of mutts in tow. The goats scattered, except for a leggy dark brown female who’d taken a liking to Dot and exuded copious amounts of stubborn. That doe would not be deterred by no dog.

Exactly twenty years older and just as whipcord lean as her daughter, Angela Ybarra was the polar opposite when it came to Dot’s tornado in a trailer park personality. But that didn’t stop Angela from pulling the matriarch card every chance she got.

Angela wrinkled her nose and gave Dot a pointed look but held her tongue. Dot hadn’t burned down any buildings. Yet.

Her mother reached out and scratched the doe’s withers. “I’ve got a new elk hunting party coming in later today. We’re taking them out to that nice valley for their hunt. I need to grab a few supplies for the trip. In the meantime, would you round up your gear and check it over?”

“You sure you want me up there with you?”

“I need you, Dot. This is a new group to me.”

In other words, Ama wasn’t comfortable being on her own with this bunch. Most of the hunters Angela outfitted were longtime customers she had built a strong rapport with and trusted. She took on new clients only if there was a long lull between her regulars and funds were tight.

Since Dot’s return to the ranch, she’d been her mother’s backup when one of the local sheep herders wasn’t available to ride out with Angela. Dot’s presence on hunts was a good deterrent for wannabe suitors or general dickheads. Not that Angela Ybarra couldn’t hold her own—she was Samo Ybarra’s daughter after all and had sent many a man intending ill-intent back to civilization with a limp and severe damage to his manhood. Dot, on the other hand, was less accommodating. The pervs usually woke up in the hospital, cuffed to the bedrail.

“Ama, you don’t need to earn the extra cash. I can spot you.”

“No.” Angela sliced the air with a disapproving finger. “Your army and pilot funds are yours. Don’t waste them on my business.”

“Come on!”

“I’ll hear no more of it.” Angela checked her watch. “I’m going. Be ready.” She slipped from view, her canine pack following.

Dot’s guard goat gave a very goat-like nicker as she munched on weeds bold enough to dare grow in their pen.

It might have been a year since the crash. She might have been released from physical therapy with a clean bill of health two months ago. And she might be in the best physical shape of her life since basic training and flight school. Still, Dot hadn’t spent more than two hours horseback in the last six months. Riding into the foothills of the Payette National Forest and getting to that valley her mother spoke of meant at least an eight-hour ride. Probably longer if this new hunting party wasn’t used to long hours in the saddle.

Dot groaned. Good thing she loved her mother.

She rose from the goats’ favorite climbing stump and vacated the lean-to. At the corner, she glanced back at the spot where Aitona had appeared.

He’d died while she was away at training. It ate at her for years that she hadn’t been here to see him crossed over to the other side and be with his beloved Dorothy—Dot’s namesake. Though somehow he hadn’t quite left the ranch.

He wanted to know. Or maybe she was using his specter to ask herself the question.

Why did she do this thing? She was hale and hearty, ready to get back in the air. God knew the forest service hadn’t stopped calling. Yet she couldn’t pull herself away from her current predicament.

Why?

“I’m doing it for Ama,” she said to the air.

***

Author Bio:

Winter Austin perpetually answers the question: “were you born in the winter?” with a flat “nope,” but believe her, there is a story behind her name.

A lifelong Mid-West gal with strong ties to the agriculture world, Winter grew up listening to the captivating stories told by relatives around a table or a campfire. As a published author, she learned her glass half-empty personality makes for a perfect suspense/thriller writer. Taking her ability to verbally spin a vivid and detailed story, Winter translated that into writing deadly romantic suspense, mysteries, and thrillers.

When she’s not slaving away at the computer, you can find Winter supporting her daughter in cattle shows, seeing her three sons off into the wide-wide world, loving on her fur babies, prodding her teacher husband, and nagging at her flock of hens to stay in the coop or the dogs will get them.

She is the author of multiple novels.