Wednesday, May 31, 2017


Chick Lit
Date Published:  05/31/2017
Only $0.99!

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“A feel-good, heart-warming, tear-jerking love story.”

The best sort of holiday read, recommended for fans of Jane Costello, Erica James, and Lucy James.

My dog didn't like men. Actually that was a lie – she didn't like the men I chose. The only ones who rocked her world had been my father (who was no longer with us), Ross (who was gay), and the butcher on the high street (for obvious reasons).

When Jenni Meadows has the opportunity to expand her dog-grooming business she takes it, and when a nice man appears on her horizon but fails to make any sparks fly, she decides she has enough on her plate with her business without adding a boyfriend into the mix. 

Besides, Millie doesn’t like him and when her dog doesn’t like a man, Jenni knows all about it. So why does Millie take a very strange liking to the new vet, especially since he has a taciturn expression, wears a wedding ring, and wields a needle? 

UNDER THE CHERRY TREE is a tale of love and hope, waggy tails, and cold noses.


His name was Rupert, and that should have told me all I needed to know. Not that I’m nameist or anything, but with a name like that there was no way he came from the council estate up the road; the other kids would have decimated him! And he wasn’t a kid, not by a long stretch, not if that chest and those arms were any indication. He was tall too, like many rowers tend to be.

Rupert and I moved in entirely different circles, and I don’t know what on earth possessed me to agree to go out on a date with him, though the three glasses of white wine I’d drunk may have had something to do with it. I was drinking for two, because Amber had just that morning found out she was pregnant, and that meant I had to drink her share. Oh, and don’t forget that chest. It bulged and rippled and clung to his body like I wished I could. I only took my eyes off it long enough to make sure he didn’t have two heads. The face above a set of extremely broad shoulders looked nice enough, so I didn’t bother to check again.

But why the hell had I agreed to let him take me shooting? Who actually did something like that on a first date? Dinner, a drink, maybe a concert, ice-skating at a push – but definitely not clay pigeon shooting.

The only redeeming thing was that he told me I could bring Millie. And did I mention his chest?  If that’s what rowing did for a man, I made a vow to meet more rowers (if this one didn’t pan out).

Rupert the Rower. I should have realized, even without the accent, that he was way out of my league. He was an ex-Kings student (private school – very private, because mummy and daddy had to have a great deal of money to send their children there, and he was the youngest of three boys).

Then there was the house, or should I say, mansion. As I trundled up the graveled drive in my little Micra, Millie panting on the passenger seat, I was under the impression this was where the shooting meet was taking place, not that Rupert actually lived there.

I pulled my ten-year-old car into a space between a brand-new Range Rover and a top-of-the-range Jag, and clambered out. Hollington Hall. Nice. I wondered if they did wedding receptions. Not that I had any plans on getting married any time soon (had to find the right guy first), but it was something to consider for the dim and distant future. At least I wasn’t like some of my friends who had picked the dress, the shoes, and the bridesmaids’ outfits, all before their sixteenth birthdays! I was merely mildly interested.

Surprisingly, for a hotel, the front door was firmly closed.

After unclipping Millie from her harness, I carried her up the steps and placed her gently on the ground between a pair of tall columns, and tried to turn the door handle. Locked.

There didn’t appear to be a bell, but there was a huge knocker in the shape of a lion’s head, so I banged it a couple of times and waited until  it was opened by an elderly woman in a pinny. She frowned at me.

‘I’m here for the shooting,’ I said.

She gave me a blank stare.

‘With some guy called Rupert? Sorry, I don’t know his last name.’ Perhaps I hadn’t got the right place either, because the large hallway behind her looked nothing like a hotel reception area. It lacked a front desk, for starters. A sleepy spaniel lifted its head and blinked, but made no move to get up. It was probably so used to guests that another one, even one with a dog, was nothing to get excited about.

‘Master Rupert,’ the woman said, issuing me with a stony stare.


‘His name is Master Rupert Hollington.’

‘I thought Hollington was the name of this place?’

‘It is.’ She opened the grand door a little wider, and moved to the side with a sigh. ‘I’ll let him know he has a guest.’

I stepped into the hall, my eyes on stalks. Rupert Hollington of Hollington Hall. Rupert the Rower, who’d gone to Kings and had a plummy accent, and who thought taking a girl clay pigeon shooting on a first date was a good idea.

I wanted the highly polished, black-and-white tiled floor to open up and swallow me.

The maid/servant/housekeeper (I had no idea what to call her – she might be his long-suffering nanny for all I knew) stalked down the hall and disappeared through a door at the far end, leaving me to stare up at the sweeping staircase with my mouth open. The place was huge!

‘Jessie, how lovely you could make it.’ Rupert strode up to me, both hands outstretched, and moved in for a double cheek peck.

‘Jenni,’ I corrected him, mortified.

‘Are you sure?’


‘Jenni it is then, though I could have sworn you told me your name was Jessie.’

‘It was noisy in the pub,’ I said, trying to make him feel better, though to be fair, he didn’t seem in the least bit fazed that he’d got my name wrong.

Never mind, it was an easy mistake to make.

‘I see you’ve brought your dog,’ he said. ‘Does it retrieve?’

I glanced down at Millie, with her white fluffy fur and pink diamante collar. ‘Not even a stick,’ I admitted, wondering why he thought a West Highland Terrier would double up as a retriever. Now if he’d asked about her ability to dig holes…

Rupert looked a little put out, but recovered quickly. ‘No bother. Just don’t let it off the lead, or it might interfere with the real dogs.’

Was he calling my dog fake? Huh! She was as doggy as any other canine.

I had a feeling this date wasn’t going to go as well as I’d hoped, especially when he asked, ‘Are your wellies in the car?’

Wellies? What wellies? Oh dear; I hadn’t thought to dress for mud, assuming my leather boots and chunky jacket would be outdoorsy enough. Clearly not. When I took the time to really look at him, I realized he was wearing a Barbour jacket and a pair of green Wellington boots. Both the jacket and the wellies were liberally spattered with mud.

‘Is the shoot in a field?’ I asked, pleased to be able to display some shooting terminology.

He gave me an odd look. ‘Where else would it be?’

Maybe I should have done a bit more research on Google. ‘I’ve never handled a gun before,’ I admitted. ‘The only thing I know about it, is that you call “pull” and then do your best to hit the thingy.’

I was unprepared for his sudden burst of laughter. ‘Oh, my dear girl, you’re priceless!’

‘Eh?’ So what if I didn’t know the correct term for those flying disk things? I’d already confessed I knew nothing about shooting.’

‘We’re shooting pheasant,’ he said, taking my arm and guiding me towards the door he had appeared from.

I pulled back. ‘Wait. What? As in real, live birds?’

He nodded.

‘Ew. No thanks.’

‘You don’t have to touch them,’ he said, giving my arm a tug.

It wasn’t the touching which bothered me – it was the killing itself. Millie, close by my side, gave a small grumble in the back of her throat, half warning, half concern, and nudged my leg with her nose. I bent to pat her, using the movement as an excuse to shake off his hand.

‘Is it friendly?’ he asked, leaning forward and holding out his fingers for her to sniff.

Millie drew back behind my legs.

‘She,’ I emphasized the word, ‘is perfectly friendly.’ And Millie promptly made me into a liar by emitting a low growl.

I tugged at her lead in annoyance, vowing to give her a good telling off later. Not that it would do any good; if a dog had to be admonished for bad behavior, the ticking off had to take place immediately after the event, else the dog would have no idea why its owner was cross.

‘I don’t think shooting is for me,’ I said, and turned to leave. Even if Rupert suggested doing something else instead, I wasn’t sure he was my kind of guy.

Millie simply confirmed my thoughts when I glanced down at her.

She was weeing on his wellies.

About the Author

Lilac spends all her time writing, or reading, or thinking about writing or reading, often to the detriment of her day job, her family, and the housework. She apologises to her employer and her loved ones, but the house will simply have to deal with it!

She calls Worcester home, though she would prefer to call somewhere hot and sunny home, somewhere with a beach and cocktails and endless opportunities for snoozing in the sun…

When she isn’t hunched over a computer or dreaming about foreign shores, she enjoys creating strange, inedible dishes in the kitchen, accusing her daughter of stealing (sorry – “borrowing”) her clothes, and fighting with her husband over whose turn it is to empty the dishwasher.

Contact Links

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Tuesday, May 30, 2017


Don't miss the Rafflecopter to sign up for MJ Summers' giveaway!

The Royal Treatment
M.J. Summers
(Crown Jewels Romance #1)
Publication date: May 23rd 2017
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance
Enough laughs to satisfy fans of Bridget Jones.
Enough sparkly shoes and breathtaking ball gowns for fans of Cinderella…

Twenty-eight-year-old Tessa Sharpe, a.k.a. The Royal Watchdog, hates everything about Prince Arthur. As far as she’s concerned, he’s an arrogant, lazy leech on the kingdom of Avonia. When he shocks the nation by giving her the keys to the castle in an attempt to boost his family’s dismal public approval ratings, Tessa has no choice but to accept and move in for two months. It’s lust at first sight, but there’s no way she can give in to her feelings—not if she wants to have a career or a shred of pride left when her time at the palace ends.
Ultra-private, ultra-hot Crown Prince Arthur has always gotten by on his charm. But that won’t be enough now that the Royal Family is about to be ousted from power once and for all. When Prince Arthur has to rely on the one woman in the kingdom who hates him most, he must learn that earning the love of a nation means first risking his heart…
Can two natural enemies find their forever in each other’s arms, or will they ruin each other to save themselves?

[PLEASE NOTE: The Crown Jewels Series is not a typical MJ Summers book. It’s a light romantic comedy, very heavy on the laughs with a low steam level (but lots of delicious sexual tension and some swearing).]

Are you a book reviewer?

Request a review copy of The Royal Treatment here!

Prince Arthur:
When we reach the vault room, there are two guards standing at the door. Normally there is just one, sitting on the inside; but for nights like tonight, there are a total of six. I nod, and one of them opens the door.

“Good evening, fellows,” I say.

“Good evening, Your Highness.”

Once inside the room, we go through the same routine with the other four men. I go to the keypad and press the code, then hold my face in front of the camera for a retina scan. When I look down at Tessa, she actually looks impressed.

“A little Bond-esque, no?” I ask.


“Come on, Moneypenny, let’s get you something for that beautiful neck of yours.” I tug her hand and pull her in with me before she can say no.

She’s already shaking her head, but I hold up one finger. “I can see those Sharpe family brains of yours going to work on ten different reasons why you won’t borrow a necklace, but I have already prepared counterarguments, and since we are now twelve minutes behind schedule, please allow me. One, they’re already paid for, some of them hundreds of years ago, so it’s not coming out of anyone’s taxes. Two, like the books in the library, they’re going to waste in here. Three, for the first time in my life, I want to share something with someone else—someone who deserves to feel like a queen, even if she’ll only allow herself that for one measly little evening. Four, I have this fantasy of seeing you in only the jewels. Maybe the heels could stay.”

Tessa laughs and her cheeks go pink. “All right. One necklace, but make it a cheap one.”

I raise one eyebrow. “Define cheap.”

“Less than a kitchen stool.”

“How about less than a car?”


“I said ‘queen.’ Would a queen really wear a sofa around her neck?” I reach up and run my fingertips along the base of her neck.

“Would she wear a car?”

“Good point.” I lean down and kiss the crook of her neck. “How about this? You choose whichever one you like the best, and I won’t tell you how much it’s worth.”

I continue to brush my lips along her skin, then move up to her earlobe. The other night, I discovered a little spot at the base of her ear that turns her to putty. After a moment of some careful work, I get what I want.

A breathy, little ‘okay’ escapes her lips.

MJ Summers made a name for herself with her debut novel, BREAK IN TWO, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in the UK, as well as Canada (and the top 50 Paid in the USA). Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first two books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia, with more translations underway.
MJ Summers currently resides in Edmonton, Canada, with her husband, three young children, and their goofy dog. When she's not writing romance novels, she loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. MJ also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken ‘from above’. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something. More like just staying until they turn the lights off...

MJ is a member of the Romance Writers of America, as well as the International Women's Writing Guild.


Monday, May 29, 2017



by Gerry Bartlett
Pub. Date: 5/2/2017
Genre: Contemporary Romance

Her father’s dream. Her crossroads. And a man
who sees just her . . .

Megan Calhoun doesn’t stick with anything
long. She’s the daughter of a billionaire—why pretend to be
somebody else? Until she finds out her father’s will says she has
to. She has to last a year in the oil patch, in the dust and heat of
West Texas, working for her daddy’s company. Otherwise she’s cut
off without a cent—and no way to earn one.

The only upside is her new pal Rowdy Baker,
ex-football star, Calhoun engineer, and grade-A stud. If she has to
live in a trailer, his doesn’t sound so bad. Rowdy knows the
roughnecks running the rigs won’t take kindly to a smartass blonde
rookie whose last name matches their paychecks. He can’t control
his attraction to her. And with everyone from the foremen to the
stockholders spitting mad at the Calhouns, he expects trouble ahead.

But Megan has never been scared in her life.
And with Rowdy to help her plot, she has the chance of a lifetime: to
find her calling, to fix her company, and, if she doesn’t screw it
up—to capture a heart . . .

Gerry Bartlett is
a native Texan who lives halfway between Houston and Galveston. Her
antique business is on the historic Strand on the island. When she's
not treasure hunting, she loves heading to the Texas capitol of
Austin where she imagines her vampire Glory St.Clair of the Real
Vampire series has her own vintage clothing shop. She also loves
writing about the big city of Houston and the oil business in her new
contemporary series, Texas Heat. 

has over a hundred cookbooks but would rather read them than cook
these days. She also has way too many purses and posts pictures of
her latest finds on Pinterest. This former elementary school teacher
is working on her twentieth published novel. Her first three were
written as Lynn McKay and can be found on Amazon for a penny. Now
she's out of the classroom and happy to write under her real name. 

Creamy Chicken Corn Chowder

2 c. chopped cooked chicken
1 (4-oz.) can chopped green chilies, undrained
1 (10 ¾ oz.) can condensed cream
1 ½ c. milk or half and half (I tried fat free) of chicken soup, undiluted
1 c. chicken broth
1(10 ¾ oz.) can condensed potato soup, undiluted
1/3 c. sliced green onions
1 ½ c. shredded Cheddar cheese
1 (11 oz.) can Mexican corn, undrained
1 (4 ½ oz.) jar sliced mushrooms, undrained

In a Dutch oven or slow cooker combine cooked chicken(I bought a roasted chicken), chicken soup, potato soup, Mexican corn, mushrooms, chilies, milk, chicken broth and sliced onions. Cook until well heated, stirring often. Remove from heat. Add cheese, stirring until cheese melts. Serve immediately. Garnish with additional chopped green onions if desired. Freezes well. Great with cornbread and actually not spicy at all. More adventurous eaters may want to garnish with jalapeƱos. Makes 2 quarts. Serves 6 to 8
Courtesy of the Take Thyme to Savor Cookbook, compiled by the P.E.O. Chapter B of Birmingham Alabama.

the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and giveaway!

Thursday, May 25, 2017


Thanks to the many of you who have requested the next book in the Bride Brigade series. I’m happy to announce the release of LORRAINE, Bride Brigade book 6.  

Here's a blurb of LORRAINE:

How to escape marriage to an odious man . . .
Leave the state.

Lorraine Stuart joins a group of women traveling to Tarnation, Texas, a town with numerous bachelors but no unmarried women. She longs to meet a man who will admire her and the writing ability that has her published in several publications, by a pseudonym, of course. Just her luck, out of all those in Tarnation, she falls for the most stubborn man she’s ever met. But the handsome newspaper owner is the only one who makes her heart flutter.

Grant Pettigrew has worked hard to establish the Tarnation Gazette. He is intrigued by Lorraine but he won’t let a woman write for his newspaper. Besides, he can’t afford to hire anyone yet. The redhead is gorgeous and ignites dreams of family, but he’s never met a more obstinate woman.

Will two immovable forces join to form a forever love?

Amazon buy link is:

If you haven't done so, why not take advantage of the two of my books that are on sale through May 31?

The contemporary western romance GRANT ME THE MOON is part of the Texas Caprock Tale series set in and near the West Texas town of Post. On June 1, the price will increase from $ .99 to $2.99.  Later this year, I'll be releasing the youngest brother's story, CAPTURE A STAR. I grew up mostly in Lubbock, only forty miles from Post. I've long been fascinated with the Caprock. As an adult, I am intrigued by archeological sites like the Garza site near Post. 

Amazon buy link is

The historical western romance AMANDA'S RANCHER is part of Debra Holland's Montana Sky Series for Kindle World. Currently on sale for $ .99, it will return to $3.99 on June 1. At the risk of sounding immodest, I admit I love this book! Huge amounts of research went into writing this story, including re-reading Debra Holland's Sweetwater Springs and Morgan's Crossing books set in this time period of 1886-87. The cover shows is my favorite female model from Kim Killion's photo stock site. (I always wanted hair like hers--and Maureen O'Hara's.)

Amazon buy link is

Monday, May 22, 2017


Heartbeat Hypothesis
Lindsey Frydman
Contemporary Romance

Madison simply wanted to walk in the shoes of Emily Cavanaugh, a
free-spirited teenager who died too young. After all, Audra wasn’t
supposed to be here.
to Emily, Audra has a second chance at life. She’s doing all the
things that seemed impossible just two years ago: Go to college.
Date. Stargaze in the Rocky Mountains. Maybe get a tattoo. You know,
Cavanaugh, a photographer with mysterious, brooding gray eyes, agrees
to help chronicle her newfound experiences. She makes him laugh, one
of the only people who can these days. As they delve into each
other’s pasts – and secrets – the closer they become.
she’s guarded and feels like she can’t trust anyone, including
he’s struggling with the fact that his beloved sister’s heart
beats inside her.
has been writing since she was nine years old, when she discovered
the awesomeness that is Harriet the Spy. Her books always include a
romance, though sometimes there’s an added sci-fi or magical
realism twist. She lives in Columbus, Ohio (where the weather is
never quite right). Her BFA in Photography and Graphic Design has
granted her a wide assortment of creative knowledge that serves as
inspiration (and not much else). When she’s not crafting YA and NA
stories, you'll likely find her spending waaay too much time on
Pinterest, playing a video game, singing show-tunes, or performing in
a burlesque show—because she enjoys giving her introversion a
worthy adversary. (Plus, it's the closest to Broadway she’ll ever
get.) Lindsey was a proud 2016 Pitch Wars Mentee and thoroughly
adores being a part of the wonderful writing community. THE HEARTBEAT
HYPOTHESIS is her debut novel.
the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and giveaway!

Friday, May 19, 2017


CC:  Welcome back to the blog, Barbara.

BWD:  Thanks, Caroline.  It’s a pleasure to drop in again! I'm looking forward to chatting with readers and giving away a book. Details on that will be at the end of my post.

CC:  Tell us something about yourself.  How long have you been writing?

BWD:  I’ve always been a storyteller and started writing when I was about four, though in those days spelling and even printing legibly were optional.  My first book was “published” when I was nine, complete with hand-illustrated cover.  I typed “The End” on my first full-length novel when I was in the eighth grade.  This was a mystery with a romance subplot, and it had a sequel.  As I’m now a romance writer, I haven’t strayed far from my roots.

CC:   I “wrote” and illustrated books when I was very young too. As I remember, they all involved a princess (me) in a pretty dress, a knight on a white horse, and a castle. Where do you prefer to work?  Do use a PC or laptop?

Broken laptop

My best place to write is at my office desk, which I think comes from years of being a secretary sitting at a computer.  It’s just a natural place for me to work, and I can write so much faster on a computer than in longhand.  In fact, I write so much, I’ve worn out more than a few laptops and keyboards.  LOL

Old Keyboard with missing letters

When I’m brainstorming or away from a computer—such as in bed in the middle of the night or riding in a taxi—I’m fine with paper and pen, too.

CC:  I have keys that look like those—no letters left on them, but I love a particular type keyboard. My husband keeps a version of this favorite keyboard in reserve so I can change as one bites the dust. Can you tell readers something about what you write?

BWD:  I would love to. And I also love to chat, so I hope your readers will free to leave comments and questions for me if they have any. I'll be giving away an autographed print book, winner's choice of my available backlist, to one reader (U.S./Canada mailing address, please) who leaves a comment by midnight Monday night, May 22nd.

I’m currently writing short contemporary romances for both Harlequin Western Romance and Entangled Bliss.  The Westerns are small-town stories filled with cowboys and ranchers, cute kids, loving yet interfering family members, and nosy but caring neighbors.  The Bliss books all contain the same fun elements, just minus the cowboys and ranchers.

CC:  Congratulations on the release of your new book.  Please tell us about it.

BWD:  Thanks for asking!  The new release is The Rancher’s Baby Proposal.  In this story, the hero, Reagan, returns to his hometown with his young son.  Reagan’s parents have both died and he wants to clear out and sell his family’s ranch so he can put the memories and the town behind him for good.  Unfortunately for him, the heroine wants nothing more than for him to stay in Cowboy Creek—with her.

Here’s the back cover blurb from the book:


Ally Martinez has always been known as a fun and flirty kind of gal. But deep down she’s never forgotten the cowboy who left town. When her crush Reagan Chase comes home after a five-year absence, Ally knows this is her big chance. The guy I’ve always wanted. Only Reagan has something different in mind…

Still reeling from his last relationship, Reagan needs a babysitter for his month-old son. With Ally’s help, he can get his family’s ranch ready for sale and get out of Cowboy Creek. The problem? Ally is one seriously cute distraction. But Reagan will do whatever it takes to keep his heart safe. Even if it means losing the only place—and the only woman—he can call home.

CC:  That sounds great!  This book is part of a series, isn’t it?

BWD:  Yes.  It’s the newest story in my Hitching Post Hotel series.  The books are written so that each one stands alone.  The hero and heroine reach their happy ending by the last page of their story, which means the books don’t necessarily need to be read in order.  That’s true of all my books.

CC:  Tell us more about the Hitching Post Hotel.

The Hitching Post is set on a ranch in Cowboy Creek, New Mexico.  Jed Garland owns both the ranch and the hotel, and his granddaughters are in the process of helping him turn the hotel into a destination wedding locale.  The series began as a trio of books with the matchmaking Jed bound and determined to match his three granddaughters with men he’d handpicked for them.  Of course he runs out of granddaughters eventually!  But readers love Jed and his “girls,” and they wanted more stories about all the Garlands and the Hitching Post.  At that point, Grandpa Jed moved on to matching up family friends.  :)

CC:   What about your books for Entangled Bliss?

BWD:  The series is called Snowflake Valley.  This is a tiny town in Nevada nestled between two snow-covered mountains.  It’s also a tourist town dedicated to Christmas, and the first books in the series are all set during different winter holidays, which is making them very fun to write.

The series revolves around sisters who find love in Snowflake Valley—whether they like the idea or not!  Again, these are stand-alone stories.  Book one, Snowbound with Mr. Wrong, was out in November and the second is due to release this August.

CC:  Can you share a sample from The Rancher’s Baby Proposal?

BWD:  I would love to.  And I also love to chat, so I hope your readers will feel free to leave comments and questions for me if they have any. 

I’ll introduce the sample by saying that though the heroine, Ally, is doing a great job with Reagan’s son, she’s only now learning to feel comfortable around children.  This excerpt comes from one of my favorite scenes starring Ally with Reagan’s one-month-old baby.  Hope you and your readers enjoy it!

     Ally attempted to light a tall white candle with a match that bobbed and shook and went out in her hand.

She struck another match and tried again. She had to get these candles lit.

“When you’re planning a seduction,” she told Sean, “you need to set the right mood.” She shot a look across the room at him in his infant seat. “But don’t go getting any ideas, you hear me? You’re way too young to think about seducing a girl.”

Finished with the lighting ceremony, she waved her hand, gesturing at the candles and pewter holder she had brought from home, the china and glasses and silverware she had found in the dining room hutch here and had washed in the kitchen sink, the vase of hot pink and flaming red tulips she had picked up at the L-G Store.

“What do you think, baby? Is it all a go?”

She walked over to stand beside him. To be safe, she had placed his seat on one of the sturdy pine captain’s chairs from the kitchen set, which she had moved far away from the candles on the table.

As she looked down, Sean shifted his arm.

“Oh, you think it deserves a fist bump, huh?” She reached over to touch her knuckles to his tiny hand. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
For a moment, her own confidence began to flicker like the flames on the candles. Then she lifted her chin and stiffened her spine. With her arms held straight out at her sides, she twirled once slowly in front of Sean. “And what do you think of this?”

When she looked down at him again, his eyes had closed. He had drifted off to sleep.

Great,” she whispered. “I hope that’s not your way of telling me what to expect with your daddy.”

CC:  It sounds like Ally is doing a fine job with the baby so far! 

BWD:  To be honest, she’s making much better progress with Sean than with his daddy.

CC:  Thanks again for visiting.  Before you go, can you tell readers a little more about you and where they can find out more about you and your books?

BWD: Absolutely. I'll share my "offiical" bio here and will list some links below. Thank you again for inviting me to stop by!

Barbara White Daille, Author

Barbara White Daille lives with her husband in the sunny Southwest. Though they love the warm winters and the lizards in their front yard, they haven’t gotten used to the scorpions in the bathroom. Barbara also loves writing, reading, and chocolate. Come to think of it, she enjoys writing about those subjects, too!

Barbara wrote her first short story at the age of nine, then typed "The End" to her first novel many years the eighth grade. Now she's writing contemporary romance on a daily basis, with an ongoing series from Harlequin Western Romance (The Hitching Post Hotel) and a new series from Entangled Bliss (Snowflake Valley).  Sign up for her newsletter to keep up with the latest in her writing life:

Find Barbara and her books online:
Harlequin author page
Goodreads author page

Find The Rancher’s Baby Proposal at any of these locations:

Wednesday, May 17, 2017


Honor Before Heart: Emerald Belles #1
by Heather McCorkle


GENRE: Historical Romance



Risking it all for love and valor . . .

When Corporal Sean MacBranian awakens after being injured in battle, he is sure the luck o’ the Irish has run out on him. Or that he’s died and gone to Heaven. There can be no other explanation for the blond-haired, blue-eyed angel standing before him. But his “angel” is a truehearted lass named Ashlinn, and she wears a nurse’s uniform. Her tender ministrations have brought him back from the brink of death—and have given him a new reason for living.

Ashlinn knows their parting is inevitable; her handsome hero must return to the 69th infantry of the Union army, and there are no guarantees of his safe return. With most of her family already destroyed by the war ravaging America, she is sure she cannot survive another loss. Yet she feels powerless against the draw of Sean’s strong and steady heart. Neither time nor distance nor the danger of battle seems to lessen their bond. But when their secret letters are intercepted, the devoted nurse’s love will face the ultimate test . . .


“Being completely gentlemanly is overrated at times,” she said.

He draped her arm around his and pressed her hand against his forearm. “Perhaps it is,” he said as they began to walk.

With her free hand, she fussed with her skirt, using the excuse to keep their pace slow. Not only was she in no hurry to get back, she didn’t want him overexerting himself. All too soon, they were picking their way through the muddy patches that dotted the pathways between tents. Candlelight glowed from within a few of the tents already. Thankfully, the paths were empty of people for the most part. Cliste pushed her nose through the canvas door of their tent and dashed inside, leaving them alone.

Arm withdrawing from hers, Sean took a step back. Before they lost contact altogether, he caught up one of her hands, raised it to his lips, and kissed the back of it. The heady sensation of a man’s lips—this man’s lips in particular—upon the bare flesh of her hand was entirely new. Men had kissed her hand before, but always with a glove upon it. A thrill vibrated all the way down to her core. Her eyes shot open and she gasped at the pleasure of it. From beneath his dark brown locks, he gazed up at her from where he bent over her hand. Muscles low in her abdomen clenched, widening her eyes even farther.

“Guess I’m not a complete gentleman after all,” he whispered.

The husky tone of his voice touched things inside her that she longed for his skin to. Her face was afire with the scandal of her thoughts, and she couldn’t care less.

“Like I said, overrated,” she said in a breathy voice.

Heather McCorkle, Author

Heather McCorkle is an award-winning author of paranormal, steampunk, and historical fiction. When she is not writing, editing, or designing book covers and websites, she can be found on the slopes, the hiking trails, or on horseback. As a native Oregonian, she enjoy the outdoors nearly as much as the worlds she creates on the pages. No need to travel to the Great Northwest though; connect to her instead on her blog and her many social networking sites. You can also find her the first Monday night of every month at 6:00 pm Pacific Time on the #WritersRoad chat on Twitter, which she co-created and moderates. Entertaining readers and uncovering stories and points of view that haven't been covered are two of her greatest passions.

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