Giveaway – No Cooldown For Love by Aliyah Burke @XpressoTours @AliyahBurke96

Posted on June 26, 2023 by fundinmental

No Cooldown for Love
Aliyah Burke
(Entangled: Amara)
Publication date: June 26th 2023
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

From USA Today bestselling author Aliyah Burke comes a playfully sexy romantic-comedy about one room, one bed, and a man who knows how to play…

When ex-pro basketball player Mitchell Anderson sees an overturned car on the edge of a cliff during a nasty snowstorm, he knows he has only minutes to rescue the woman trapped inside. What he’s not expecting is their instant attraction, or that she can deliver one hell of a pick-up line even under the most terrifying of circumstances.

Hope Roman’s entire life is on the edge. She’s already overwhelmed with grief and upset, and nearly dying is pretty much the icing on a terrible, soggy cake. So it’s just her luck that she’s suddenly snowbound at a charming little inn with the hottest, yet down right grumpiest, man she’s ever met. And naturally, there’s only one room left.

Now the pillow barrier between them keeps disappearing. And the walls are coming down. But Hope knows she doesn’t belong in Mitchell’s world any more than he belongs in hers. The question is whether either of them can trust the other long enough to play for keeps…

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

She migrated in her sleep. Not that he had an issue with it—he’d enjoyed having her in his arms. Stretching, he yawned and burrowed back into the bed, pulling the blankets up to his neck. No rush in getting up, as they weren’t going anywhere. He snuggled up against the wall she’d made and inhaled, drawing in her scent with each slow breath he took.

The door cracked open and he held his breath as Hope poked her head in. Watching her through slitted eyes as she snuck into the room, he had this insane urge to smile like a fool. Even now, she was trying not to disturb him.

“Morning.”

She squealed and jumped, hand slamming against her full chest.

He slowly sat against the headboard and stared at her, eyebrows up. “You sure are jumpy this morning.”

Hand flexing against her chest, she shook her head. “You scared me.”

“I scared you?” Mitchell didn’t take his eyes off her for a second, just stared, wishing the fire burned a bit higher so he could see more of her facial expression.

She propped her hands on her full hips, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “That’s what I said. I don’t scare myself. I was minding my own business when you…” She waved a hand around.

He smirked. “Said ‘morning’?”

Hope gave him a sage nod. “Exactly.”

“I can see how that would’ve been scary,” he said drolly. “Opening my mouth to say one word to you.”

Hope narrowed her eyes at him. “I was trying not to interrupt you.” She cleared her throat. “Wake you.” A deep breath. “Whatever.”

He scratched his stomach through his shirt, not ignoring the way her gaze darted toward the movement. “Interrupt me? That’s intriguing. What exactly were you envisioning me doing in this bed, Hope?” He leaned forward, lips curling up in a full-fledged smile. “And if you were concerned, why not knock on the door? Did you want or hope to catch me doing something in this bed?”

“Sleeping.” Her voice was higher and he wasn’t positive but he felt like she was blushing.

“Oh,” he replied as he tossed the blankets back, sucking in a breath at the difference in temperature outside the bedding. “Sleeping, huh? You wanted to catch me doing what I was doing when you snuck out?” Disbelief smacked hard. And damn it, he enjoyed making her engage with him.

Her gaze drifted to his arms and he flexed one, loving how she nibbled on her lower lip without looking away from him. He’d heard Emma mention to Linc about how his arms were porn-worthy. Did Hope feel that way about his? Something definitely worth finding out, but he thought she did, considering how her eyes continued to drift to his forearms.

“Or whatever.” Heat filled her eyes and he loved that she didn’t drop her gaze.

“Hope,” he said, rising from the bed.

He watched and waited for her to stop staring at his arm.

“Yes?”

“You didn’t have to put the wall back up. I already know you travel when you sleep.” In basketball, traveling was a foul, but in bed, he was all for her doing it again. Tonight.

Author Bio:

Aliyah Burke is an avid reader and is never far from pen and paper (or the computer). She loves to hear from her readers and can be reached at http://aliyah-burke.com/blog/contact/

She is married to a career military man, they have three Borzoi. Her days are spent sharing her time between work, writing, and dog training/showing.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Newsletter / Twitter

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Giveaway – The Springfest Sprint by Georgie Monroe @XpressoTours

Posted on June 25, 2023 by fundinmental

The Springfest Sprint
Georgie Monroe
(A Faetales Novelette, #1)
Publication date: June 23rd 2023
Genres: Adult, Fantasy

Tradition can really put a damper on wanderlust.

Ember has come of seelie age, however, the spirited heir of the Spring Fae Court hasn’t chosen a mate yet. Per the court’s ancient custom, it’s time for her to run the Springfest Sprint! The males are ready to claim their mates, and many have their sights on the elusive princess. But she’s got a plan…

Hide until this nonsense is over.

It’s not foolproof or typical of the feisty fae, but it’s better than getting bound to a terrible kisser, a pompous bragger, or really… anyone. When she runs into a male who ruins her hiding spot, she has to decide if he’s an enemy or ally.
***

If you’re looking for plot, setting, and action, with a touch of dark romance and steamy moments, all packaged in a two hour read, then welcome to the Springfest Sprint! Tropes you will find: forced proximity without decent clothes, spicy faerie fae, secret royalty, mate race, fight against tradition, enemies to lovers, misunderstood hero, fae/faerie lore, polyamory, fated mates, fun best friend, and lots of sneaking around.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

With my mother’s announcement, I start out at a slow pace past the attentive hunters. The other prey falls behind me like I’ve started a human jogging club. When we squish together to enter the rocky ravine, and females crunch together, arguing for more space, I’m even more appreciative that I shoved my way to the front. As soon as we pass through, I yell, “Good fortune to those who wish for it,” and dash left toward the river, listening to the others mumble and clop noisily in all directions. Twenty flutters into my sprint, silk tangles around my quick legs and I halt too late, tumbling to the forest floor with a screech as my wings try desperately to break free from the bindings. “We’re not meant for running,” I grumble, staggering to my feet. Especially not in too-long panels of silk.

My knees leak crimson, and I shake my head. Bleeding will not help me hide. I need to get to the water. Tying the silk panels together, I fashion something close to a silky diaper—maybe that will deter the hunters as well—and get back to my escape plan. Has it been forty flutters or forty-five? I finally find what I’m looking for, leaping from rock to rock as I close in on the river.

Some don’t pay attention to our territory, leaving it to the work of the gentry and army, but I studied these woods and this stream until it formed a detailed map in my mind. Now, I move closer to what I can only hope will hide me well enough for the others to be claimed first. It’s definitely been fifty flutters, and I waver between sticking to the trees and underbrush so I have coverage or dashing along the rocks so my steps are silent.

A distant scream stops me in my tracks, and then a jumble of yelling takes over. I run with renewed fervor, sticking to the coverage of trees, because whatever scuffle is unfolding won’t last long enough. A buzz of wings sounds and I throw myself against a tree, trying desperately to ease my heaving lungs. The sound halts, and a tree branch creaks to my right. This is where someone who was panicking would run, but I’d be caught four steps into a sprint. I dig my fingers into the bark and slowly blow out the air from my burning lungs. There’s another buzz, and for a moment, I hope they’ve flown away, but one speaks.

“Have you seen Quartz?” Stone has to be only a tree over. Too close.

“Nah. My eyes are set for one.” Jasper’s voice makes me grit my teeth. Go, please. Leave.

“That little tart is trouble, and you know it.” Stone’s voice is quietly conspiratorial.

Hey. I cut my eyes in his direction, but don’t dare to move.

Jasper chuckles. “It’s worth it.”

I roll my eyes. That says a lot. Not she’s worth it, but it—my title and status. That’s all Jasper has ever been interested in.

“Well, I doubt the little princess would have made it this far already, nor would she come here. Too close to mud and stream muck for her precious self.”

I can count myself fortunate that Stone isn’t interested, though it’s hard for me to stay still instead of turning around and giving him the what for, the peephole.

“You’re probably right. Maybe she’s in the fields.” Jasper gives a disgruntled hum, and two sets of wings flutter off.

I rescind the peephole insult. Stone can lure Jasper away anytime. Keeping still and calm for another long moment, I listen to the sounds of the forest: birds, distant buzzing, and there are definitely moans coming from the west. Two are out of the game, it seems.

Pushing off the tree, I step into a run, wincing at the slight crunch of last year’s plant remains between the clumps of fresh growth. The creek comes into sight and I grin. Then I screech as I’m tackled, landing hard amongst a bed of daffodils.

Author Bio:

Georgie Monroe is an author of sassy erotica romance. Born on the southern east coast, she’s a firm believer that mac and cheese solves nearly any problem and that spring weather means the day’s outfit will consist of seven layers. She’s terribly optimistic and will douse anyone around her in “it’s going to work out” sparkles. And she loves to write all the juicy parts of relationships between a variety of people so that her readers can enjoy stepping into the lives of fun, sexy, and sometimes highly flawed people who deserve a well-earned happily ever after.

Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Bookbub / TikTok

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Giveaway – Fighting Fate by Diana Munoz Stewart @XpressoTours @dmunozstewart

Posted on June 24, 2023 by fundinmental

Fighting Fate
Diana Muñoz Stewart
Publication date: June 20th 2023
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

Risking herself to rescue others. No problem. Risking her heart on love? Problem.

Dada
As a Guild operative, I’ve seamlessly taken on dozens of false identities. Going undercover as a nun? No problem. But when my routine mission turns into a hunt for a vicious serial killer, I’m forced to join forces with Sion Bradford. Problem. The sexy, ex-soccer player doesn’t, for one minute, believe I’m a nun. Too many lives are at stake to tell him the truth. So, why am I struggling to keep the faith?

Sean
Learned a lot since leaving sports to go chase down degenerates. Mostly, how to spot a liar. Not that I need that skill when it comes to Dada. The woman’s every shade of hot, knows self-defense, and is a great kisser. Plainly, she’s rubbish at being a nun. Still, joining forces with her to take a killer off the streets is a no-brainer. I’d risk Hell itself to stop this lunatic and keep her safe.

As things heat up between Sean and Dada, their search for a serial killer turns into a deadly cat and mouse game. With time running out, they come face-to-face with the truth about each other and an unexpected and vicious murderer.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Searching Sean’s apartment has given me a wealth of insights into the man. Not only is he doing his own undercover work, but he’s also helping people in need…and painting.

I stop by an etching of a nude figure and nearly swallow my tongue. How? He’s never seen me in anything other than this drab tunic. Still…Without touching, I run my fingers above the edges of a body he’s gotten exactly right. My body.

Swallowing my rising heart, I imagine his hand holding the pencil, imagine him tracing lines, mentally stroking my body.

“Sister?”

“Ay!” Startled I swing around. To my horror, I find Sean squatting on the fire escape, staring at me through the window, his mouth set in a firm, disappointed line.

I bring a hand to my chest, mostly to buy time. “Dios. You scared the life out of me.”

“Sorry about that, Sister.” With alarming dexterity, he climbs in through the window. “Don’t usually have guests break into my flat. Not sure of the protocols.”

Hard to miss his sarcasm. “I didn’t break in. The apartment was unlocked…”

He’s shaking his head in outright disbelief. It’s not hard to figure out why. The apartment couldn’t have been left open if he’d gone out through the fire escape.

I turn back to the door and scan until I spot it. There’s a small, nearly invisible device at the foot of the door. It must’ve registered me entering. I missed it, not only because it is so very tiny, but because it’s very high-tech. I’ve underestimated this man.

I spin back around, smiling. “I need your help.”

Auburn hair a windy mess, brown eyes smoldering, he swallows the distance between us with his sexy swaggering gate. “You broke into my flat because you need my help?”

I’m scrambling. My brain is scrambling. My heart is scrambling. He stops feet from me. I have to crane my neck, which is rare and uncomfortable.

My height has always allowed me to look men in the eyes or look down on them. Not having that advantage is supremely disconcerting. Also, he’s a lot of muscle. The heat of him rolls forward like lava, enveloping my senses.

“Want to try the truth, luv?”

Luv? Not even Sister or Dee. I switch tactics. What man doesn’t like to have his ego stroked? Plus, I’d be a fool if I pretended I hadn’t noticed the way he looks at me. The way he’s looking at me right now.

“Help might be the wrong word.” I make a point of running my tongue along my lips. His eyes follow the movement. “I felt a strong need to be near you. With you.”

Feminists everywhere are cringing at me using my sexuality to get out of the fact that I was spying on him and, internally, so am I. Well, a little. He is so very hot.

“Really,” he smirks, both interested and not buying it even a little. He leans closer. “Is that how you intend to play this?”

He obviously requires proof of my sincerity. Not giving myself a chance to second guess, I fist his T-shirt, tiptoe, and place my lips on his soft, firm mouth.

For a breathless moment, he freezes. My tongues plays along the seam of his mouth.

With a moan, he relents.

Eager and hungry, I let go of all the tension of playing at being someone I’m not and let myself feel, really feel, the intense attraction I have to this man.

Heat and naked desire rake painfully through every cell in my body as we grab at each other, tongues intertwining, bodies screaming for more.

Author Bio:

#1 Amazon bestselling author.

Armed with a razor-sharp wit and a rolled-up MFA in Creative Writing, Diana Muñoz Stewart cartwheel-kicked her way into publishing with her fiery Black Ops Confidential series. Washington Independent Review of Books called the series’ award-winning debut, “original, impressive” a “rollicking good ride” and “high-octane.”

Of her writing Publishers Weekly declared, “Stewart plays adeptly with the reader’s emotions” and noted that in her series, “Stewart’s talent shines.”

Of her unflinching openness in taking on today’s relevant topics, Booklist said, “Munoz-Stewart discusses such sensitive topics as human trafficking, sexual violence, and sexism…while the diverse …Parish family and their mission to protect women everywhere give these topics…hope…”

Kirkus Book Reviews said her romantic suspense series, along with having, “Sizzling physical encounters” also “enables an emphasis on recovery and power.”

Munoz Stewart’s work has been a BookPage Top 15 Romance of 2018, a Night Owl Top Pick, A BookPage Top Pick, and an Amazon Book of the Month. A 2014 Pages From The Heart Winner, 2015 Golden Heart® Finalist, 2016 Daphne du Maurier Finalist, and a 2016 Gateway to the Best Winner, Diana Munoz Stewart is a member of Romance Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, and Sisters in Crime.

Diana lives in an often chaotic and always welcoming home that—depending on the day—can hold husband, kids, extended family, friends, and a canine or two. A believer in the power of words to heal, connect, and distract from chores, Diana blogs regularly on topics near and dear to her heart, including spotlight pieces on strong women from around the world. When not writing, Diana can be found kayaking, doing sprints up her long driveway—harder than it sounds–attempting yoga on her deck, or hiking with the man who’s had her heart since they were teens.

Diana is represented by the wonderful Michelle Grajkowski of Three Seas Literary Agency.

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Giveaway – In The Moment During by C G Coppola @XpressoTours @writercgcoppola

Posted on June 23, 2023 by fundinmental

In The Moment During
C.G. Coppola
(The Coyote And The Claw Companion Series, #2)
Publication date: June 23rd 2023
Genres: Adult, Romance, Urban Fantasy

After an unexpected hookup, I end up dating Grayson Knight—my former mortal enemy. We still argue constantly, and I’m sure we’ll break up at some point, but after a family dinner goes well with Dad—the city’s Police Sergeant—I have hope.

Then I start noticing things. Like how Grayson gets called away at odd times, or how skilled he is with gymnastics. Then there was the fight at school—the one where he dominated his opponent. None of it seems important until we’re attacked by a monstrous creature—and Grayson springs into action. It’s almost like he knows what to do…like he’s done it before.

Knowing something is off, I confront him about his unusual behavior, but he dismisses it. Not satisfied, I decide to discover the truth for myself. Because Grayson has a secret—and I’m going to find out what.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Grayson looks at me, gesturing for me to sit.

I pull out my chair and take my seat, and he does the same across from me. Scooting in, I glance around the restaurant, scanning the other diners. All are in their thirties and older, most in their forties and fifties. We’re definitely the youngest patrons here.

“Stop staring.” He pushes the menu in front of me. “Pick out something to eat. Get whatever you want.”

Encouraged, I look down, scanning the prices first like I’ve always done.

Whoa.

Everything is in the double digits, and most start with three. I feel weird.

“Stop looking at the prices and get whatever you want, okay? This is our one big date, so make it count.”

Our one big date? I thought he was joking about making this stretch, but was he? Maybe that wasn’t a joke at all. I’m sure this will work itself toward an argument, but I need to understand what he means. Setting the menu down, I look up. “You’re saying I don’t get any more after this?”

“Until prom?” He thinks about it, tilting his head. “Eh. Probably not.”

“That’s in like, six months.”

“Which is why you should make this one count.”

“Grayson.”

“What?”

I narrow my eyes at him, but he only stares back. Oh, no. He’s not getting by with this one. “I didn’t ask you to roll all our dates into one big-ass crazy one.”

“Is that what I’m doing? I said big dates—not all dates. This is our first official one, hence it’s a big one.” He picks up his menu with both hands, his eyes already dipping back down the paper. “You really got to pay attention.”

I replay his words, trying to find what I missed. Oh. Tilting my head, I lock onto his eyes, holding him accountable. “So that means I get more dates then?”

“How many dates am I supposed to take you on?”

“I don’t know…twice a month?”

“Twice a month?” He thinks. “So, according to your math, you’re owed twelve dates over a six-month period?”

“Uh, sure—yeah.”

He nods to himself. “Think I can handle that. Just don’t expect each date to be up to this caliber, okay? Again, this one is a big deal. A special situation since it’s our first official date. After this, it’s fast food and streaming services. Completely downhill from here.”

I stare at him a long moment, wondering how his weird little brain works. “You know sometimes, I still think about strangling you.”

“Are we naked when you imagine it?”

“Hello.” A black lady stops at our table, her arms behind her back. She’s wearing the same thing as the other servers—a white blouse with black slacks and shoes. Her hair is pulled into a braid down her neck, and unlike some of the other servers, she’s wearing very little makeup. “And welcome to Donald’s. My name is Latoya. Have you dined with us previously?”

“No ma’am,” Grayson answers for us.

“Well, welcome. I’ll give you a moment to look over the menu, but first, let me tell you about today’s specials…” Latoya prattles off her rehearsed description, and it actually sounds delicious—grilled salmon in butter herb sauce with rice pilaf and cherry tomatoes.

So good.

Once she’s done, she leaves us with a smile and promises to return shortly with two waters and a basket of warmed bread.

Grayson is back to staring at his menu, his eyes pouring over each option. “What’re you thinking about getting? The salmon sounds good, but I haven’t had lobster in fucking ever.”

Author Bio:

C.G. Coppola is the author of the sci-fi adventure series, Arizal Wars, and the contemporary romance series, Better Than This. In addition to stories that explore magic and the paranormal, she writes realistic fiction set in fantastical universes, usually with a lot of kissing. Married with two fur-babies she spoils rotten, C.G. Coppola lives in Florida where she grew up and attended college. When not writing, she can be found decorating the house, bantering with her husband, or dancing to Meghan Trainor–sometimes all at once.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Giveaway – Lucky Shot by Shanna Hatfield @XpressoTours @ShannaHatfield

Posted on June 22, 2023 by fundinmental

Lucky Shot
Shanna Hatfield
Publication date: June 20th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Western

What’s a girl to do when her aim is true?

As a registered nurse at the Boise VA Hospital, Grace Marshall is devoted to her patients, but some wounds require more than medical care. A patient too stubborn and angry to accept the help he needs storms out of her exam room, ruffling her feathers. Yet, when the man returns to apologize, something about him tugs at her heart.

Levi Gibson left for war young and idealistic but returned from Vietnam with physical scars and a haunted soul. He tries to banish the darkness brewing inside him with hard work on his family’s potato farm, but it’s a young nurse’s kindness that brings unexpected light and joy into his life. If Levi can open up to Grace and let her see his pain, could she be the key that unlocks a future full of hope instead of mere survival?

After her father sends Grace a legendary pistol, target practice provides an excuse to spend time with Levi during the summer of 1972. As his shadows overwhelm him, it will take far more than a lucky shot for Grace to hit love’s mark.

Goodreads / Amazon / Bookbub

—

EXCERPT:

She straightened in time to see Levi sprinting through the rain with a vase of flowers.

His cowboy hat had kept his head dry, but Grace was sure she could wring water out of his shirt when he stepped inside. A vision of him shirtless made warmth sear her cheeks as he walked over to her and held out the vase.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to her.

She stared at the vase brimming with fragrant lilacs, white tulips, and pink peonies. The arrangement was stunning, but she had no idea why he’d bring it to her.

Hesitantly, she reached out for the vase. “What’s this?”

“An apology,” he said, removing his hat as she took the vase from him.

She held the vase against her mid-section, longing to bury her nose in the divine lilacs. She’d always loved the scent of them when they bloomed in the spring. On their dairy farm, they had several old bushes that bloomed along the back fence. She’d missed them since she’d moved to Boise. The only chance she got to smell flowers now was while walking in the park, or when one of her fellow nurses received them as a gift.

“An apology?” she asked, giving the cute cowboy a curious glance.

“For Friday. I was rude, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything you did,” he admitted, appearing both nervous and repentant.

She ignored the way he’d shoved his left hand into the front pocket of his jeans to hide his injury. His right hand clenched his hat, as though he was anxious. Uncertain.

“Do you really think I’m too young, incompetent, and impertinent to be a nurse?” she asked, keeping her expression unreadable, but she shifted her posture, cocking one hip defiantly.

A slow grin spread across his face as he watched her, appearing to keenly observe her every move. His head shook from side to side. “No, ma’am. I think you are more than qualified to do your job, and you were not impertinent. I’m truly sorry for the way I behaved when I was here. The way I acted was unnecessary and unkind, and it bugged me all weekend that I’d been that way with you. Truly, I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,” Grace said, grinning at him and surrendering to her need to sniff the blooms. She closed her eyes to better savor the fragrance, then opened them to find Levi watching her. “I love lilacs.”

His grin broadened. “We have a bunch of them at the farm just starting to bloom. The tulips were on the north side of the house, or they’d likely be gone for the season.”

“It’s a magnificent bouquet. Do you need the vase back?” she asked.

“No. Ma has dozens of them. She gets the credit for arranging the flowers, though. She said to tell you that she did a better job of raising me than you might have previously considered and to please not hold my behavior against her.”

“I did have a few thoughts about that this weekend.” Grace smiled and hugged the vase a little tighter. “I do thank you, Sergeant Gibson, for these lovely blooms, but I should get to work.”

“I didn’t mean to keep you. I just wanted to apologize and ask for your forgiveness.”

“You are forgiven.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking a step back toward the door.

Grace had never, not once in her life, considered asking a guy on a date, but a sense of panic welled in her at the thought of not seeing Levi again soon.

The words spilled out of her, leaving her unable to stuff them back into her mouth. “Are you busy next Saturday?” she heard herself ask.

Levi appeared as shocked by the question as Grace felt.

“No. Not really. Did you have something in mind?”

Author Bio:

USA Today Bestselling Author Shanna Hatfield writes sweet romances rich with relatable characters, small town settings that feel like home, humor, and hope.

Her historical westerns have been described as “reminiscent of the era captured by Bonanza and The Virginian” while her contemporary works have been called “laugh-out-loud funny, and a little heart-pumping sexy without being explicit in any way.”

When this farm girl isn’t writing or indulging in rich, decadent chocolate, Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller. She also experiments with recipes, snaps photos of her adorable nephew, and caters to the whims of a cranky cat named Drooley.

To learn more about Shanna or the books she writes, visit her website http://shannahatfield.com or find out more about her here: linktr.ee/ShannaHatfield

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Giveaway – The Ro Bro by J A Huss & Dohnathan McClain @XpressoTours

Posted on June 21, 2023 by fundinmental

The Ro Bro
J.A. Huss, Johnathan McClain
Publication date: June 20th 2023
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Essie Smith-Scott, the author known as SS, has been the number one erotic romance writer in the world for the past ten years. Movie deals, merchandise, dozens of books on the New York Times bestseller’s list, and the founder of the biggest romance convention to ever hit the planet.

Scoring an invitation to the Sin With Us Romance Convention in Las Vegas is the ‘big break’ every romance author hopes for and Cynthia Lear’s name just made it to the top of the wait list. She’s in. And she’s gonna make the most of it. This is her chance to shine and propel her career into the stratosphere.

But then she meets Essie’s twin brother, Steve. Not only is Steve Smith handsome, and charming, and loves her work—he’s also… lying. To the whole world. Literally everyone.

Because his twin sister, Essie, isn’t the one who’s been writing all those super-spicy Master Choke books all these years—it’s Steve.

***********
Written by New York Times bestselling author JA Huss and actor, author, narrator, Johnathan McClain—The Ro-Bro is a rompy feel-good adventure through the secret life of romance authors and the conventions they attend. Prepare to laugh so hard you pee your pants. This is a story that will make you smile every time you think about it.

(P.S. – If you’ve never been to the biggest romance convention in the world, well now you don’t even have to go. Because they all happen just like this.)

Goodreads / Amazon / Audible

—

EXCERPT:

“Holy shit.” Britney, the assistant, looks up at me with an incredulous expression of ‘what the fuck.’ “She’s a… a…”

I volunteer a noun. “A bitch?”

“Yeah!” Britney laughs this word out with gusto.

And I’m laughing too, but then I look over at Cordy, and she’s… not. “What did she mean by that?”

That question is directed to Britney, not me. And immediately I feel cut out of the conversation.

What did she mean by that? Translation—Did Raylen Star just caution me, Cordy, about handing over my ARC to SS’s brother, Steve, because she was insinuating they, she, he might steal my words?

That is exactly what Leslie fuckin’ Munch just did.

I had a good thing going with this girl. She and I were having a moment. And even though Britney kinda busted in on us, Britney wasn’t obtrusive. I was winning her over. Which is important. As the number one romance writer in the world, I wholly and completely understand that the new love interest must befriend the BFF.

And fine. Maybe ‘new love interest’ is a premature title for me? We were still on introductions. We hadn’t made any concrete declarations of intent or anything, but we were on our way. We were getting there. Would’ve gotten there if fuckin’ Leslie hadn’t showed up.

And now, as I watch Cordy and Britney exchange a look and in the next moment watch, in real time, as Cordy’s eyes drop down to the book gripped firmly in my hands, I have to tuck down a moment of rage.

Two minutes. Two. Minutes. That’s all it took for Leslie to ruin the good thing I was building with this lovely creature who might be the only person in the room who can write a run-on sentence with such skill, and emotion, and… and… and moxie that one does not even understand that she, lovely Cordy, just wrote the world’s longest run-on sentence because they have been captivated—imprisoned, even—by her brilliant author voice.

Cordy Serendipitous’s ability to string words together for the longest of sequences is what drew me to her in the first place. I love it. I love that she breaks all the rules. It’s so… so… fuckin’ courageous—especially in a world filled with people who want nothing more than the expected to jump out at them in a totally expected way, lest they have to stretch their minds a bit to find the hidden messages hiding just below the surface—that I, for once, did not feel like a completely isolated freak among those who fit in. At least as far as writing goes.

And Leslie Munch has fucked that up with two words of caution.

Be careful.

Author Bio:

JA Huss is a New York Times Bestselling author and has been on the USA Today Bestseller’s list 21 times. She writes characters with heart, plots with twists, and perfect endings.

Her books have sold millions of copies all over the world. Her book, Eighteen, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award and an Audie Award in 2016 and 2017 respectively. Her audiobook, Mr. Perfect, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award in 2017. Her audiobook, Taking Turns, was nominated for an Audie Award in 2018. Her book, Total Exposure, was nominated for a RITA Award in 2019.

She lives on a farm in central Colorado with her family, horses, donkeys, dogs, goats, and chickens.

FIND HER HERE

www.facebook/authorjahuss

@jahuss – www.jahuss.com

Johnathan McClain is an award-winning actor, screenwriter, producer, romance novelist, and audiobook narrator. As an actor, he has an extensive television, film, and theatre resumé spanning over twenty-five years. As a screenwriter, his feature film debut, THE OUTFIT, co-written with Academy Award winning screenwriter Graham Moore, and starring Academy Award winner Mark Rylance, Zoey Deutch, Dylan O’Brien, and Johnny Flynn, premiered at the 2022 Berlin International Film Festival and was released theatrically by Focus Features the same year.

He has narrated almost two-hundred audiobooks and is the recipient of multiple Audiofile Earphones Awards, SOVAS nominations, and an Audie for his narration of Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff’s #1 NY Times bestselling sci-fi novel, Illuminae, which won the Audie Award for audiobook of the year for multi-voiced narration in 2016.

Along with JA Huss, Johnathan is the co-author of ten novels, two of which have been optioned for screenplays, and the story of their writing partnership was developed as a TV series with MGM Television.

He lives in Los Angeles with his wife, Laura.

Find him at www.johnathanmcclain.com

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Giveaway – Morning Star by Kris Jayne @XpressoTours @kris_jayne

Posted on June 20, 2023 by fundinmental

Morning Star
Kris Jayne
(Lone Star Crossed Saga, #3)
Publication date: June 15th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

The marriage is fake, but the passion is real.

Famous for his last name, devilish Anthony Star-Hunter is the black sheep of the Star clan. He’s an expert at using his tall, dark, and handsome charm to get women into bed—the last remnant of his declining hard-party escapades.

But the bucks are about to stop here. His grandfather’s will demands he marry to inherit his fortune. Anthony panics. Even with his bad boy allure, how the hell is he going to find a tolerable bride, like, yesterday?

The minute Sarah Pennington spots the tattooed muscles her new stepsister’s ex hides under his Italian suits, she rolls her eyes. Anthony is not for her. And with her father maybe headed to prison for a financial fiasco, she’s had enough bad male behavior. She’s responsible. She’s hard-working. She…can’t stop having naughty dreams about the sexy “celebutant.”

At a beach-side wedding, a drunken mishap throws Sarah into Anthony’s bed, and he’s intrigued. Can he convince her to give fake marriage a chance? Can she convince herself to keep her heart out of the deal?

Their slow-burn, un-love affair isn’t what either expect, but it might be what both of them need forever.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

EXCERPT

Anthony

“Stay. We can dance again.”

Sarah grabbed my hands and pulled me closer, twisting her body to the beat. Her head fell back, and her eyes closed with a blissful smile. The graceful line of her neck trapped my gaze, leading it down to her smooth collarbone and the hint of cleavage that swelled with each breath, each laugh, and each toss of her head.

Suddenly, her fingers on mine burned. I yanked them away. Her wrap dropped to the ground. I scooped it up and handed it to her.

“We have a full day tomorrow. Some of us are golfing again. I think the bridal party is going to the spa. Then, we’re sailing to the reef. I need some sleep.”

Her pout deepened. “I’m not your type, am I? You think I’m boring.”

When I didn’t speak, she pushed closer with an inquisitive desperation.

“Am I that boring?”

I swallowed and laughed, but her question rattled me. “No. You’re not boring, just responsible. Usually.”

Swimming beneath the responsibility was a woman longing to be free. I could smell it on her, along with her citrusy shampoo and hints of vanilla.

“Yes. I am. Someone has to be. I’m the someone.” Her eyes slipped shut. “My father might go to prison.”

The revelation shocked me. I’d heard rumors about Edward Pennington’s business partner, but I thought they’d gone their separate ways.

Sarah’s eyes flew open, and her hands covered her mouth. “Don’t tell Catie. She doesn’t know. Because what the hell is she going to do? Nope. He drops that shit on me so I can ‘help.’”

She made finger quotes with her hands.

“Because I’m helpful and re-spons-i-ble.”

Tears pooled in her eyes as Sarah punched me in the sternum, and my heart jumped.

“Lawyers,” she wailed. Then, she stepped away like I was a hot stove she hadn’t meant to touch. “I should go find Steve. We were dancing.”

I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and turned her away from the dance floor.

“No Steve. How about we both turn in?”

She was drunker than I’d thought and, if she was confessing her family business, not in control of herself. The condition wasn’t as fascinating in reality as it had been in theory.

I would walk her back to the house and deposit her in her room to sleep it off and, hopefully, forget this conversation.

“You and me?” she asked, stumbling over a small dip in the lawn. “Whoopsie!”

I caught her arm. “Easy.”

“I almost f-fell.”

I smiled. “I know.”

Her voice dipped to a hush. “Seriously. You and me?”

“What?” I asked.

She gazed up, her soft brown eyes pools of questions and warmth. “Turning in together?”

“I just meant—”

Her wicked smile cut me off. “Like my dreams. I’ve had dreams about you. I had one last night. I can’t stop. Not since we met.”

I’d thought of her too. From her first dismissive sneer, I wanted to make her want me in spite of herself. It was a third-grade urge to pull her pigtails and make her pay attention. She didn’t like me. I didn’t care—or maybe I even loved it. Her face flushed with irritation or desire—both gave me a charge.

What did she dream about doing to me? Could it possibly match the things I wanted to do to her right now?

But I wouldn’t. She was wasted.

Sarah’s arms wound around my waist. The soft cushion of her breasts pressed to my side, and a hot urge swept over me. My cheeks burned. My pulse thundered. My dick was so hard I glanced down to make sure it hadn’t poked a hole through my zipper.

“You and me,” I said, “isn’t the worst idea.”

Another time. When she was sober.

Her smile stretched, then faded, her tongue jutted out, rejecting the notion.

“Pfft. It’s a terrible idea, but I dream about you anyway.”

She clutched me, and my heart sank. Of course, I was a terrible idea for her. But her for me?

The thought made me ache.

Author Bio:

Kris Jayne is a devoted writer, reader, and traveler, crafting addictive contemporary romance novels with heat and heart. She spends her days blissfully sweating out the writing process in the Dallas area with her dogs, Otis the Shih Tzu, Rocco the Terrier, and Red the Foxy Mutt.

Her passion for writing is only matched by her passion for the adventures of travel. In 2008, she let a friend talk her into sleeping outside for the first time in her life when she climbed Mount Kilimanjaro.

P.S. If you’re buying her a gift, she has a penchant for single-malt Scotch and scarves.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Facebook / Twitter / Newsletter

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Giveaway – Far Out by Khaled Talib @partnersincr1me @khaledtalib

Posted on June 17, 2023 by fundinmental

Far Out

by Khaled Talib

June 5 – 30, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Hollywood movie star Goldie Saint Helen comes out of a coma after a car accident with an altered identity. She now believes she is a hippie detective living in the Sixties, hired to find a missing teenage girl who is about to end up a guinea pig in a CIA drug experiment.

Goldie also thinks screenwriter Blake Deco, her husband, is an intern at her detective agency. For the time being, Blake plays along as advised by the hospital until she recovers her memory.

However, sinister plotters think it is better that Goldie does not wake up from her fantasy-and they have their reasons.

The couple finds themselves embroiled in a dangerous situation. Blake must use his past military skills as he races against the clock to save his wife before she loses her mind forever.

Praise for Far Out:

“Here is Hollywood in all its glam, seductive sleaze as a cast of greed-enabled sharks angle to glom on to a famous movie star’s megamillions. Lots of action plus insider gossip in a witty, entertaining thriller with a groovy 1960’s vibe.”
~ Ruth Harris, NYTimes & Amazon bestselling author

Far Out Trailer:

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller
Published by: Running Wild Press
Publication Date: January 2024
Number of Pages: 325
ISBN: 978-1955062923

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One

As she lay on the verge along the Pacific Coast Highway under a starless April sky, a faint bleat caught Goldie’s lips. Her heart pounded irregularly as her breath whizzed in and out of her mouth. Blurry faces swam in her vision, and obfuscated voices floated through and lingered in her distorted senses. She heard maybe six; maybe more, maybe less. Her fading bleariness made it hard to tell.

Out of the corner of her eye, Goldie noticed the coils of steam spewing from the hood of an overturned Lexus underneath the mountain incline on the other side of the road. The red car had smashed into a barrier.

How did it happen?

She sucked in the salty breeze, struggling to refocus despite her discombobulation. As she writhed in pain, she felt her eyelids flicker, pulled down by her mortality.

Is it time to go?

Too soon to die.

At least let me say goodbye to…who?

Why can’t I remember anyone?

A hand repeatedly patted Goldie’s cheek, pulling her out of her stupor.

“Stay with me, okay? Don’t sleep. Help is on the way.” The soothing feminine voice kept Goldie in a state of equanimity. Her gaze strayed toward its owner, a young woman with long, dark hair bracketing a set of angelic eyes within a pale, long face etched with concern and worry.

Angel Eyes leered down at Goldie. “Do you feel pain anywhere? Blink once for yes, and twice for no.”

Goldie blinked once.

“Don’t move.” Angel Eyes gleamed with emotion. “An ambulance will be here shortly.”

“She sure looks like Goldie Saint Helen, the movie star,” came from another, astonished voice, this one belonging to a plump curly-haired girl with ringlets across her forehead. “Hey, wait a minute―it is her!”

Movie star? Who? Me?

“You sure?” Goldie heard another voice ask, this one from a man. Moments later, he inched forward, revealing himself: A blond with a surfer haircut.

“Remember Gun Kiss? We watched the movie last year,” said the curly-haired girl. “Goldie Saint Helen. She was kidnapped by a Mexican drug lord. Her husband saved her, and he wrote the original screenplay inspired by the incident.”

>Mexican drug lord? Husband? What’s my husband’s name?

A chilly breeze carrying the salty air swept over Goldie’s warm body, and she shivered involuntarily.

“Someone get her a blanket from the van,” Angel Eyes demanded.

The curly-haired girl stood up and scampered away. She returned momentarily with a blanket.

Goldie felt the thick blanket spread over her right up to her neck, rendering immediate warmth.

A smile blossomed across Angel Eyes’s face. “We’ll stay here with you until the ambulance arrives. You’ll be okay.”

A sting suppressed Goldie’s attempt to raise her lips into a smile. So, she blinked once to acknowledge Angel Eyes’s statement.

Car doors banged shut, and Goldie looked up as she heard someone approach.

“What happened here?” asked a woman wearing a jumper.

Goldie looked up at the woman, but the throbbing headache behind her eyes, which had spread across her cheek and down her ears, restrained her from prolonging her focusing. She dropped her eyes, subsiding the tension.

The woman doubled over, hands on her knees, her eyes fixed on Goldie; the look in them was somewhat curious, somewhat empathetic.

“We’re not sure,” the blond man replied. “ We pulled her out of her car,” he said, pointing to the burning car. Flames unfurled from the hood, but were being fought by men with handheld extinguishers containing the fire from spreading in the interior and trunk.

“Did you kids hit her?” a beefy man asked, to which he received a volley of antagonistic replies.

The blond man stood and cocked his head towards a white van parked up ahead, along the verge. “That’s our van over there. Go see if there’s any damage, then come and apologize to us.”

The beefy man raised both hands, palms up. “Take it easy, man. Just making sure.”

“Why don’t we let the police handle it?” said the curly-haired girl.

The beefy man balked, pulling along the woman in the jumper.

Goldie saw more cars blur by, some stopping. Onlookers approached and jostled for a good spot.

“Hey, isn’t she Goldie Saint Helen?” asked a man in a yellow polo T-shirt. He took his phone out of his pocket and took a few pictures of Goldie. The camera flashed repeatedly, briefly blinding her.

“Have you no shame, Mister? She’s a human being,” snapped the curly-haired girl, glowering at the opportunist.

The man in the yellow T-shirt retreated to his car.

“Asshole.” The curly-haired girl stood up and snapped at the other bystanders. “Well, what are you people waiting for? Go ahead and take some more pictures!”

“Take it easy, I can help,” said a bob-haired woman in a gray sweater and white athletic pants.

“Nothing much to be done here, unless you’re a doctor,” Angel Eyes replied to her.

“I’m a nurse,” the bob-haired woman said. “I just thought―”

***

Author Bio:

Born and raised in Singapore, Khaled Talib’s books have received reviews in Publishers Weekly and international newspapers.

The author is also a member of the International Thriller Writers.

His books have received praise from New York Times bestselling thriller authors, Gayle Lynds, Ruth Harris, and USA Today bestselling authors, Jon Land, Jean Rabe and Fiona Quinn.

Before he started writing thrillers, Khaled was a magazine journalist and public relations consultant.

When he is not writing, Khaled spends most of his time reading, baking, traveling the world.

Catch Up With Khaled Talib:
KhaledTalibThriller.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @KhaledTalib
Instagram – @khaled_talib_books
Twitter – @KhaledTalib
Facebook – @khaled.talib
YouTube – @KhaledTalib

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaway entries!

JOIN IN ON THE GIVEAWAY:

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Khaled Talib. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

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Giveaway – Tale Of An Anxious Heart by Elsa Jacobs @XpressoTours

Posted on June 16, 2023 by fundinmental

Tale of an Anxious Heart
Elsa Jacobs
Publication date: June 14th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense

Tale of an Anxious Heart follows the heart-wrenching journey of Marianne, a young woman plagued by anxiety, as she takes a hitchhiker on her way to her beach house. Despite her reservations, she can’t help but feel drawn to his dark and mysterious persona. However, with each encounter, she begins to realize the man isn’t the person she thought he was.

As they continue on their journey, Marianne’s anxiety worsens, and she struggles to control it. James becomes a trigger for her panic attacks, yet she can’t seem to let him go. Her anxious heart is torn between her love for him and the need to protect herself from the danger he brings. Their relationship becomes increasingly complicated, and the line between love and hate blurs.

And when they start to find peace, their world is turned upside down. As they run for their lives, Marianne and James are pushed to their limits. They face betrayals, heartbreaks, and death at every turn. The journey is full of angst, heartache, and passion as Marianne struggles with her anxiety and traumas, and James fights for his redemption. Will they make it to safety and find a new life together, or will their pasts consume them both?

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

After three hours on the road, we make a pitstop.

“At last!” he blurts, getting out of the car.

Then, I notice something I shouldn’t have. My hitchhiker stands with a slight groan, hand pressed against his right side. And as he stands, he reveals the inside of his jacket, and there it is—a shiny gun sitting in his pocket. My paranoid thoughts aren’t so paranoid after all.

It’s not rocket science to figure out where this equation leads. Nobody carries that kind of gun unless they are a criminal.

I’m going to die, sliced up by a crazy hitchhiker.

Can I handle this?

But then again, he’s hurt. Maybe he’s losing blood; maybe his life is in danger.

And mine?

He enters the convenience store. It’s almost comical; the way he walks, like he’s invincible. Professional criminal, tough as nails. And here I am, professionally screwed.

I imagine what they’ll say on the six o’clock news: “A young woman was found sliced up so her killer could make a house of cards out of the pieces…”

I can’t take my eyes off his form. The man stands tall, arrogant, his badass attitude taped to his face. He feels nothing.

Although, his eyes are more narrowed than before. He’s a human being. A wounded human being and I’m a nurse.

I fill up the car while chewing on my bottom lip. He heads toward the back of the building. My heart is pounding, unsure of what might happen next. I might have made a huge mistake. The options before me are unappealing—leave him there, join him, or wait for him to come back and pretend nothing’s wrong. I finish filling the gas tank and pay, trying my best to appear normal. The store is dimly lit and eerily quiet, adding to my growing uneasiness. A knot forms in my stomach as I push the door open, my heart trying to spread my ribs apart.

My eyes dart back and forth as I scan the aisles frantically, grabbing snacks and drinks, not knowing what the road ahead has in store.

As I approach the exit, my heart is in my throat. I can’t catch my breath, and I only hear an irregular heartbeat in my ears.

Shit, I’m having a panic attack.

Time slows as my legs weaken, and unwanted sweat rolls down my neck. My sweaty palms land on the door, but the ground drops from under me. My vision blurs, and I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe. I’m going to pass out. Shit.

My phone’s ringtone blares. I don’t recognize the number.

“Yes,” I answer, my voice barely above a whisper.

An old voice comes through the line. I don’t recognize that, either.

“If you value your life, you’ll leave him,” the voice growls.

I glare at my phone.

I don’t even know if my life has any value at all.

“You have a few seconds to leave, Miss Milosh.”

The call disconnects, and my eyes flutter to my phone as it chimes again. Another ring announces an incoming text message, but I ignore it. I know what I need to do. I steel myself for the task ahead, fully aware I’m going to tread dangerous waters. One stop to grab my first aid box, and I’m thrilled.

Author Bio:

I’m Elsa Jacobs, indie author of contemporary romance from sweet and seductive to dark and gritty. All levels of steam.

A few years ago, I found myself obsessed with a bunch of characters and plots, swirling madness in my mind. The only reasonable cure was to write them all. In less than a year, I had written four draft. I had no intention of publishing because fear held me back, and I put them aside, unsure if they were worth sharing with the world.

Years passed, and I finally mustered the courage to read one of my drafts and spoke to an editor, sending them a chapter. The wait for their response was nerve-wracking.

But, as you can imagine, that one chapter led me on a journey that brought me here. And the story is about to be legendary.

My debut novel, Tale of an Anxious Heart, is a fast-paced and thrilling ride that will keep you on the edge of your seat with its twists and turns. This contemporary medium spice read is not your typical romance, featuring morally gray characters and a steamy, possessive alpha male hero who will leave you breathless.

But don’t be fooled by the conventional tropes – My strong female hero is more than capable of holding her own and conquering inner demons as she embarks on a road trip that will change her life forever. Pick up Tale of an Anxious Heart today and discover why it can be challenging to pick up a hitchhiker…

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The Spotlight Is On Murder At The Pontchartrain by Kathleen Kaska @dollycas

Posted on June 15, 2023 by fundinmental

Murder at the Pontchartrain by Kathleen Kaska

About Murder at the Pontchartrain

Murder at the Pontchartrain
Cozy Mystery (Humorous)
6th in Series
Setting – New Orleans, Louisiana
Anamcara Press LLC (June 15, 2023)
Paperback ‏ : ‎ 280 pages
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1941237940
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1941237946

Synopsis

Private detective Sydney Lockhart and her boyfriend/partner, Ralph Dixon, are headed for New Orleans to tie the knot—again. Having been stalled on their first attempt by some unfinished business dealing with their last case, Sydney and Dixon are now in the Pontchartrain Hotel in the Big Easy. While their marriage license rests at the courthouse for its 24-hour waiting period, they stroll to the French Quarter to visit Rip Thigbee, Sydney’s friend from her previous investigation. Rip owns Finder of Lost Souls, a detective agency dealing with the spirits of murder victims whose cases remain unsolved.

When Sydney and Dixon are at Rip’s office, they learn he went missing after investigating the disturbance of local businessman Frank Threadgill’s crypt. Voodoo Queen Frida Mae, whose shop is located next to Thigbee’s, fears that bad juju led to Threadgill’s death and has now infiltrated Rip’s business. Upon returning to their hotel room, to plan their next step, they find Threadgill’s wife, Mildred, waiting for them. Unfortunately, Mildred has been murdered. The police haul the couple down to the station. Their alibi checks out, but they are told to stick around for a few days. Soon a hotel housemaid is murdered, and this time Dixon is arrested, and Sydney is on her own to find the killer.

Hearing of their predicament, Sydney’s bubble-headed cousin, Ruth, and Sydney’s young charge, twelve-year-old Lydia LeBeau, show up to lend an unwelcome hand. Ruth goes undercover as a chef at the hotel. Lydia, who can talk the Pope into letting her assist in saying Mass, talks her way into the famous Pat O’Brien’s bar, where the locals are eager to share what they know.

After interviewing Mildred Threadgill’s family, Sydney begins her investigation by delving into Frank Threadgill’s mysterious past and discovers that he isn’t who he claims to be. The business he once owned was a cover involving an organization of WWII war criminals and the local Ku Klux Klan. As Sydney gets closer to the truth, she is attacked and left for dead in a nearby swamp. With the help of a few jaunty Cajuns, Sydney makes it back to the city with enough evidence to get Dixon released. Ruth thinks she knows who the killer is. Lydia has her own theory and is convinced Ruth is wrong. Sydney doesn’t know who to trust, convinced that every witness she’s interviewed has lied. But her most shocking realization is that the biggest liar is her own future husband.

Excerpt from Murder at the Pontchartrain

Dixon and I were sitting in the interrogation room in the downtown police station when we got word that the dead woman was Mildred Threadgill. Dixon explained our interest in Mrs. Threadgill, as well as the damage done to her husband’s tomb, and that our friend Rip Thigbee was missing and last seen with Mrs. Threadgill. None of which made a rat’s ass difference to Detective Bergeron who was questioning us. Luckily, our alibi checked out. The people staying in the room next to ours said they heard a commotion and then a scream at the time we were talking to the attendant at the cemetery. Nevertheless, the woman was killed in our room. There was a knife missing from our breakfast tray, possibly the murder weapon. The only person in New Orleans who knew we were staying here was Betsy Radley. We were released, but told to stick around.

“Are we on a case?” I asked.

“We’re on a case. What choice do we have? Deal with a murder today. Get married tomorrow.”

“Does that marriage license have an expiration date?”

“It’s good for two weeks. Maybe we should have kept the rental car.”

Betsy was a little more forth coming with information when we returned to Rip’s office to tell her that Mildred Threadgill had been murdered.

“Oh, my,” Betsy said. “Mrs. Threadgill was here after you left, demanding to see Rip. I told her I didn’t know where he was and that the last time I saw him he was with her. She became livid. She said he was supposed to call her a couple of days ago.”

“And you sent her to us?” Dixon asked.
“She wouldn’t leave,” Betsy said. “I didn’t know what else to do. You said you’d help, so I told her where you were staying.”

            “Any idea who would kill her?” Dixon asked, adding a hardness to his voice. When he did that, I knew he was losing his patience.
            “I . . . I don’t know,” Betsy stammered.
            “I’ll look through Rip’s notes again,” I said.
            “So the last time you saw Rip he was headed to the cemetery with Mildred Threadgill, and you haven’t seen or heard from him since?”

“Yes, yes that’s right,” Betsy whispered.

“You’ve been here all week and you haven’t heard from anyone? No one’s called or come in? Just Mrs. Threadgill after we left?”

Betsy began blubbering, which turned to sobs, then to hiccups. Finally, she managed a vigorous shake of her head.

“I want Rip’s home address,” Dixon said.

“He lives upstairs in the apartment on the left. I don’t have a key, but Frida Mae is the landlady. She has one. Wait here. I’ll get it.”

We walked into Rip’s apartment. You wouldn’t think a single guy, an ex-bouncer to be so immaculately neat. Rip didn’t own a lot of possessions, but what he had was clean and orderly. A stack of dinner plates sat on the kitchen counter next to two coffee cups in perfect alignment. Clean silverware stood in a drinking glass. The toaster, minus crumbs, shone like a beacon. Two spotless sauce pans and a skillet were arranged on top of the icebox. What little space he had in the kitchenette he made good use of. The cabinet held a can of sardines, a can of pinto beans, and a box of Wheaties. On the top shelf inside the icebox, sat a package of bacon, carton of eggs, and a stick of butter. The lower shelf held a case of Falstaff beer cans, also aligned with each label showing out. I looked over to find Dixon staring off into space.

“What is it?”

“Betsy’s lying. She knows more than she’s telling.”

“She’s scared. You should have pushed her harder.”

“Let her stew for now. Was Rip in the military?”
“Not that I know of. Why?”

“I can’t find one wrinkle in his bed sheets. His pillow case smells freshly laundered. There’s no dust on the floor under the bed. His dresser contains the usual undershirts, socks, underwear, and handkerchiefs.”

Dixon opened the closet door. Two dress shirts, a pair of slacks, a sport coat hung neatly, each in their proper category. “Look at this. A pair of scuffed cowboy boots.”
“Don’t sound surprised. Any self-respecting Texan has scuffed cowboy boots, even me.” I looked down at his wingtips.

“What?”

“This entire time I thought you were perfect, but I just realized you’re not.”

Dixon straightened his tie. “You’re questioning your assessment of me?”

            I held up Rip’s boots.
            “Wait. I’m not ever going to wear cowboy boots. I don’t have to, I’m not a Texan.”
            “You will soon be one by marriage. I suggest black boots, slightly rounded toes, modicum amount of stitchery. I’ll shop around.”

            “No.”
            “At least you can wear them around the house.”
            “No.”
            “Wearing nothing else, just your boots.”
          “Well, maybe.”

About Kathleen Kaska

Kathleen Kaska is the author of the awarding-winning mystery series: the Sydney Lockhart Mystery Series set in the 1950s and the Kate Caraway Animal-Rights Mystery Series. Her first two Lockhart mysteries, Murder at the Arlington and Murder at the Luther, were selected as bonus books for the Pulpwood Queen Book Group, the country’s largest book group. She also writes mystery trivia. The Sherlock Holmes Quiz Book was published by Rowman & Littlefield. Her Holmes short story, “The Adventure at Old Basingstoke,” appears in Sherlock Holmes of Baking Street, a Belanger Books anthology. She is the founder of The Dogs in the Nighttime, the Sherlock Holmes Society of Anacortes, Washington, a scion of The Baker Street Irregulars. Watch for Murder at the Pontchartrain: the 6^th Sydney Lockhart Mystery in June 2023.

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