Tuesday, 3 December 2013

Day 2 Barely Undercover Release Blitz

BARELY UNDERCOVER by SARAH CASTILLE
RELEASE BLITZ


DAY 2 – EXCERPT FROM BARELY UNDERCOVER by SARAH CASTILLE

Run. Excellent option. Lana wrenched herself from Rex’s grasp and took a step toward the door.
Damn.
Three bikers, two wearing the Hades patch, and one so young he had to be a prospect, were making their way through the crowd toward Rex. Blocking her path.
Lana’s pulse pounded in her ears. Rex was bad enough. But four bikers? It was almost like being back in the Wolverines’ clubhouse with Levi all over again.
The tallest of the three had swept back his long, dark hair and tied it at nape of his neck in a ponytail. Dark eyes, olive skin and a broad, hard body to match the strong planes of his striking face. Yum…even though he was a biker.
“Ryder.” Rex shook the hand of Mr. Deep, Dark and Delicious.
Ryder’s gaze flicked to Lana. He tilted his head to the side, giving her first a considered look, and then a sympathetic smile. He turned back to Rex. “I thought we were here for a meeting, not to pick up fender fluff.”
Lana grimaced at the backhanded compliment. She knew the slang. He thought she was pretty. Anything less and she would have been a “fender bunny” or even worse, a “mattress cover”.
Lucky her. Well, at least he hadn’t made fun of her hair. Usually men made some reference to the inferno on her head—Carrots, Ginger Snap, Big Red, Fire Bush, Rusty, Copper Top, Flame Brain, Matchstick Head or her current favorite, Red Zilla.
“You know what they say, ‘red in the head, fire in the bed’.” The second biker, a barrel-chested thick-necked bruiser with crazy dreadlocks gave her a lascivious wink and an oh-so-enticing crotch grab.
“Good one, Bones.” Rex thumped the thick-necked thug on the back. “I was thinking that myself.”
Lana rolled her eyes. Oh ha-ha-ha. So funny. As if she hadn’t heard that one before. Some day she’d meet a man who could insult her hair with some originality.
“Leave the girl alone. We’ve got a meeting to get underway.” Ryder gave her a wink and stepped to the side, clearing her path to the door.
Rex gripped Lana’s arm just as she took her first step to freedom. “You jealous, Ryder? Been a long time since you had a back warmer.”
“Maybe he’s bent.” The prospect, a blond Adonis who looked like he should be playing high school football instead of pledging to join a biker gang, gave Rex an obsequious smile and was rewarded with a slap to the head.
“You’re an idiot, Kickstand,” Rex growled. “You don’t disrespect a full-patch brother when you don’t even have the right to breathe without his permission.”
Kickstand stumbled into Lana from the force of the blow, knocking her off balance and out of Rex’s grasp. With incredible dexterity, Kickstand caught her before she fell.
“Sorry,” Kickstand murmured as he helped her balance. “I don’t usually make a habit of knocking down pretty girls just to get their attention. Every time I’m around these guys I do something wrong.”
She gave him a soft, reassuring smile, but her heart went out to him. He was trying so hard to fit in. She’d seen dozens of prospects like him during her time with Levi—young and desperate to be part of what they perceived to be the glamorous word of bikerdom. Very few were accepted and fewer still earned their patch. Kickstand would never make the cut. Too good-looking, too kind-hearted and too eager to please. What the hell was he doing with Hades?
While Rex, Bones and Ryder lamented the lack of good prospects in the biker world, Lana edged her way toward the door, only to be cut off again, this time by a late arrival.
Almost as tall as Rex and Ryder, the new biker was lean, lithe and powerful, with a narrow waist and long, hard thighs. His thick, dark hair just brushed his collar. His eyes were an unusual steel blue.
A familiar steel blue. Her heart stuttered in her chest.
James?
No, it couldn’t be. She blinked her eyes. Once. Twice. Was it him? Two years had passed since she’d last seen Heartless Bastard. The man in front of her had the same physique, strong nose and chiseled jaw. But the James she knew had kept his hair military short and would have been appalled to sport a five o’clock shadow, much less three days’ worth of stubble over his unyielding chin. James was a cop through and through. No way would he ever join Hades.
As if sensing her perusal, he frowned. “Take off the glasses.” The velvet rasp of his deep baritone voice sent tiny quivers of need straight to her core.
Heart pounding, she took a step back and inadvertently hit Rex’s chest. “Take them off, pet,” Rex snapped. “Ice isn’t a man who asks twice.”
Ice. He had a road name, and from the mini salivating puppies on the front of his jacket, he was full patch. He was no prospect, like Kickstand, currying favor in the hopes of being allowed to join the club. He was a fully initiated member of Hades.
Swallowing hard, Lana removed her glasses and stared down at the fishnet stockings peeking out of her boots like a hundred crisscrossing lines of black gunpowder. One of the garters was still loose, leaving her even more exposed—as if that was possible—to the explosive heat of his gaze.
“Look at me,” Ice demanded. His rich, husky voice rolled through her, stirring longings she had hidden away in the darkest recesses of her memory. Heat settled at the juncture of her thighs, her nipples tightened and her mouth went dry.
Disconcerted by her body’s responses and unable to meet his gaze, she looked away.
Ice cupped her jaw and firmly turned her face toward him, pulling her away from Rex. Her gaze locked with eyes now as deep blue as the ocean. Commanding, captivating eyes. Framed by thick lashes. But it wasn’t his eyes that finally sparked her recognition; it was the aura of pure power that hit her like the painful thud of her heart when she had realized he was never coming back.
He stroked his thumb over the apple of her cheek, the gesture at once comforting and familiar. A tangled web of emotions swept through her body like a firestorm. The world fell away.
James.
Heartless Bastard.
Lana swallowed hard and fought the warring urges to kiss him and slap him across the face.
For a split second, his breathing hitched and his eyes widened. He glanced over at Rex and back to her. His expression shifted from curious to considering, and she caught a gleam in his eyes. Calculating. Determined.
Did he recognize her? Two years ago she had been twenty pounds heavier, her pale complexion marked with freckles and her curly hair just brushing the top of her shoulders. Two years ago she had been stupid and naive, thinking she had found a man she could actually trust—someone who would never hurt her.
Now she knew better. And that kind of knowledge changed a girl. Made her immune to a Heartless Bastard’s bone-melting cheek stroking and irresistible charms.
She slapped his hand away and, boy, did it feel good.
“Roxie.” His sharp tone snapped her out of her reverie, but not as much as his warm hand clasping her own. “What the hell are you doing here, dressed like that? I almost didn’t recognize you.”

READER PRIZES:
$25 Amazon gift card
Barely Undercover charm bracelet
Ecopy of Legal Heat
Cute silver motorcycle key chain/purse chain
Biker Bandanna

a Rafflecopter giveaway

****
BLURB
With passion at full throttle, there’s no turning back.

When private investigator Lana Parker follows a dangerous biker into an underground sex club, James Hunter is the last man she expects to see. But there he is, all dark looks and chiseled charms, ready to break her heart all over again.

Danger is the name of the game for an undercover cop. And the last thing James wants is for the fiery beauty to come anywhere near the notorious biker gang he’s trying to take down. Yet Lana has no intention of giving up her case, which means he’ll have to keep her close to keep her safe. A risky proposition—especially when their blazing sexual chemistry reignites an unforgettable passion.

But when a dark terror emerges from the past, Lana goes on the run…and James gives up everything to save her. Backed into a corner, Lana must face her fears, including the one thing that frightens her most…her overwhelming feelings for the man whose searing glance sparks her most hidden desires, the man she should not trust, but cannot resist.

Warning: The book contains violence, explicit sex, light BDSM, heavy swearing, motorcycle sexytimes, bad-ass biker naughtytimes, and an exceptionally hot hero who will get down and dirty anywhere but under the covers.

BUY LINKS




CONTACT LINKS
Contact Information:
Twitter (@sarah_castille): http://www.twitter/sarah_castille.com

AUTHOR BIO
Recovering lawyer, karate practitioner, and caffeine addict, Sarah Castille worked and traveled abroad before trading her briefcase and stilettos for a handful of magic beans and a home near the Canadian Rockies. Her steamy, contemporary romantic tales feature blazingly hot alpha heroes and the women who tame them.



Party Participants

Monday, 2 December 2013

Day 1 Barely Undercover Release Blitz party

BARELY UNDERCOVER by SARAH CASTILLE
RELEASE BLITZ

DAY 1 – OF BIKES AND BIKERS AND INSPIRATION
“If you ever get a book published, I’m gonna buy myself a Harley.”
Yes, you read that right. With the kind of twisted masculine logic women struggle to understand, the Hubs decided to reward my achievement by buying himself a present. In his mind, if he is happy, he can make other people happy, and what can make anyone happier than the classic tribute to steel and chrome. Little did I know I would find inspiration in his passion, and a fondness for the heavy vibrations of the Harley Road King Classic.
Unfortunately publishing success meant that the Hubs acquired not one but two Harley Davidson motorcycles within a short period of time. They now have pride of place in the garage, meaning cars, bicycles, wives and children must be rearranged to accommodate not just the Harleys but the “buffer zone” that ensures the Harleys may be seen but not touched.
Of course, it wasn’t enough to just buy the Harleys. Oh no. He needed the leathers, and the helmet, then the gloves and boots. Rain gear, winter gear, heated gear, bags and luggage, keychains, eyewear and chaps. And don’t get me started on the accessories: racks, bars, pegs, race tuners, headers, slip-ons, stage one mods. It never ends.
We visited a dizzying array of bike stores and as a reward for my patience, the Hubs offered to buy my choice of biker T-shirts for my pillion rides: “Daddy Rides a Hog, “Biker Bitch”, “This Bitch Doesn’t Fall Off”, “All Bitch. No Pleasure”, and my personal favorite, “Biker Bitches do it Best”.
Of course he couldn’t ride alone. So I did what all biker bitches do. I put on my “Best” T-shirt and climbed on for a ride. And then another. And another. And another. There is something to be said for having over 800 pounds of vibrating metal between one’s thighs while plastered to the back of a leather-clad weekend warrior. Already the seeds of an erotic romance had been planted in my dirty l’il mind.
But it wasn’t until we drove several hours out of town to a well-known biker bar that Barely Undercover came to fruition. We sat in a corner, drinking our iced teas, watching the “real” bikers come and go. I was entranced by their confidence, the creak of worn leathers, the tight bonds they had with their “brothers” and their total disregard for any biker wannabees who tried to take up the stools. Oh...and did I mention the chaps?
Desperate to get to the heart of biker culture, I discovered that the best way to meet bikers is to join the mutual bike appreciation society. This involves studying another biker’s bike, nodding many times, and then asking questions like: What polish did you use on your chrome? Stage one mods? Who did the artwork on the fender? In return, the biker will “appreciate” your bike which gives a quick-witted author the opportunity to ask a few choice questions about biker life, from work to relationships, accommodations to...er...grey zone activities.
Now that it’s winter, the bikes have been polished until they shine, parked and covered and I’m hard at work on my next biker romance. The Hubs has been banned from purchasing additional Harleys, gear or accessories, except for passenger pegs for my feet and a nice pillion backrest for those moments when I just can’t take any more vibrating and need to sit back and enjoy the ride. Oh...and he bought me a new T-shirt: “Biker Writers write it Best.”
READER PRIZES:
$25 Amazon gift card
Barely Undercover charm bracelet
Ecopy of Legal Heat
Cute silver motorcycle key chain/purse chain
Biker Bandanna

a Rafflecopter giveaway

****
BLURB
With passion at full throttle, there’s no turning back.

When private investigator Lana Parker follows a dangerous biker into an underground sex club, James Hunter is the last man she expects to see. But there he is, all dark looks and chiseled charms, ready to break her heart all over again.

Danger is the name of the game for an undercover cop. And the last thing James wants is for the fiery beauty to come anywhere near the notorious biker gang he’s trying to take down. Yet Lana has no intention of giving up her case, which means he’ll have to keep her close to keep her safe. A risky proposition—especially when their blazing sexual chemistry reignites an unforgettable passion.

But when a dark terror emerges from the past, Lana goes on the run…and James gives up everything to save her. Backed into a corner, Lana must face her fears, including the one thing that frightens her most…her overwhelming feelings for the man whose searing glance sparks her most hidden desires, the man she should not trust, but cannot resist.

Warning: The book contains violence, explicit sex, light BDSM, heavy swearing, motorcycle sexytimes, bad-ass biker naughtytimes, and an exceptionally hot hero who will get down and dirty anywhere but under the covers.

BUY LINKS




CONTACT LINKS
Contact Information:
Twitter (@sarah_castille): http://www.twitter/sarah_castille.com

AUTHOR BIO
Recovering lawyer, karate practitioner, and caffeine addict, Sarah Castille worked and traveled abroad before trading her briefcase and stilettos for a handful of magic beans and a home near the Canadian Rockies. Her steamy, contemporary romantic tales feature blazingly hot alpha heroes and the women who tame them.


EXCERPT

A shiver coursed up Lana’s spine, and she shook her head to loosen her tongue. “I’m meeting someone.”

Rex’s rough, gravelly voice deepened. “Right now, you’re meeting me.” His gaze crawled over her, unleashing a wave of cockroaches under her skin. By the time his eyes returned to her face, a cold, sticky sweat covered her body.

With all the faux bravado she could muster, she gave him a tight smile and took a step back. “And…the meeting is over. Nice to meet you. Goodbye.”

His arm shot out, grabbing her shoulder, holding her in place. “Usually when I see a cop, I get an itch in my trigger finger. I look at you and I get an itch somewhere else. Ditch the boyfriend. One night with me and you’ll forget he exists.”

An itch? She suspected it might have to do more with his extramarital affairs and visits to the Seymour Street brothels than a desire to hump and pump with a curvy redhead in a dirty cop costume. Talk about putting a girl off.

Rex smiled, all nicotine-stained teeth and ashtray breath. “Yeah. I can see it in your eyes. You know what I’m talking about.”

What did he see exactly? Fear? Disgust? Or her desperate need to find the number for the local STD clinic?

Lana gave him a vacant smile as she considered her options. Option #1: Find a boyfriend. Heart thumping, she looked around the bar for a pseudoboyfriend—someone big, strong and sufficiently threatening. No one measured up except…maybe…Master Tony? She raked her eyes over the tall, broad frame of the club’s owner, but when he turned to greet someone at the door, she gave a little sigh. He had been less than pleased the last time she’d sneaked into the club. She doubted he would help her once he discovered she’d sneaked in again.

Option #2: Run. Excellent option. Lana wrenched herself from Rex’s grasp and took a step toward the door.

Damn.

Three bikers, two wearing the Hades patch, and one so young he had to be a prospect, were making their way through the crowd toward Rex. Blocking her path.

Lana’s pulse pounded in her ears. Rex was bad enough. But four bikers? It was almost like being back in the Wolverines’ clubhouse with Levi all over again.

The tallest of the three had swept back his long, dark hair and tied it at nape of his neck in a ponytail. Dark eyes, olive skin and a broad, hard body to match the strong planes of his striking face. Yum…even though he was a biker.

“Ryder.” Rex shook the hand of Mr. Deep, Dark and Delicious.

Ryder’s gaze flicked to Lana. He tilted his head to the side, giving her first a considered look, and then a sympathetic smile. He turned back to Rex. “I thought we were here for a meeting, not to pick up fender fluff.”

Lana grimaced at the backhanded compliment. She knew the slang. He thought she was pretty. Anything less and she would have been a “fender bunny” or even worse, a “mattress cover”.

Lucky her. Well, at least he hadn’t made fun of her hair. Usually men made some reference to the inferno on her head—Carrots, Ginger Snap, Big Red, Fire Bush, Rusty, Copper Top, Flame Brain, Matchstick Head or her current favorite, Red Zilla.

“You know what they say, ‘red in the head, fire in the bed’.” The second biker, a barrel-chested thick-necked bruiser with crazy dreadlocks gave her a lascivious wink and an oh-so-enticing crotch grab.

“Good one, Bones.” Rex thumped the thick-necked thug on the back. “I was thinking that myself.”

Lana rolled her eyes. Oh ha-ha-ha. So funny. As if she hadn’t heard that one before. Some day she’d meet a man who could insult her hair with some originality.

“Leave the girl alone. We’ve got a meeting to get underway.” Ryder gave her a wink and stepped to the side, clearing her path to the door.

Rex gripped Lana’s arm just as she took her first step to freedom. “You jealous, Ryder? Been a long time since you had a back warmer.”

“Maybe he’s bent.” The prospect, a blond Adonis who looked like he should be playing high school football instead of pledging to join a biker gang, gave Rex an obsequious smile and was rewarded with a slap to the head.

“You’re an idiot, Kickstand,” Rex growled. “You don’t disrespect a full-patch brother when you don’t even have the right to breathe without his permission.”

Kickstand stumbled into Lana from the force of the blow, knocking her off balance and out of Rex’s grasp. With incredible dexterity, Kickstand caught her before she fell.

“Sorry,” Kickstand murmured as he helped her balance. “I don’t usually make a habit of knocking down pretty girls just to get their attention. Every time I’m around these guys I do something wrong.”

She gave him a soft, reassuring smile, but her heart went out to him. He was trying so hard to fit in. She’d seen dozens of prospects like him during her time with Levi—young and desperate to be part of what they perceived to be the glamorous word of bikerdom. Very few were accepted and fewer still earned their patch. Kickstand would never make the cut. Too good-looking, too kind-hearted and too eager to please. What the hell was he doing with Hades?

While Rex, Bones and Ryder lamented the lack of good prospects in the biker world, Lana edged her way toward the door, only to be cut off again, this time by a late arrival.

Almost as tall as Rex and Ryder, the new biker was lean, lithe and powerful, with a narrow waist and long, hard thighs. His thick, dark hair just brushed his collar. His eyes were an unusual steel blue.
A familiar steel blue. Her heart stuttered in her chest.

James?

No, it couldn’t be. She blinked her eyes. Once. Twice. Was it him? Two years had passed since she’d last seen Heartless Bastard. The man in front of her had the same physique, strong nose and chiseled jaw. But the James she knew had kept his hair military short and would have been appalled to sport a five o’clock shadow, much less three days’ worth of stubble over his unyielding chin. James was a cop through and through. No way would he ever join Hades.

As if sensing her perusal, he frowned. “Take off the glasses.” The velvet rasp of his deep baritone voice sent tiny quivers of need straight to her core.

Heart pounding, she took a step back and inadvertently hit Rex’s chest. “Take them off, pet,” Rex snapped. “Ice isn’t a man who asks twice.”

Ice. He had a road name, and from the mini salivating puppies on the front of his jacket, he was full patch. He was no prospect, like Kickstand, currying favor in the hopes of being allowed to join the club. He was a fully initiated member of Hades.

Swallowing hard, Lana removed her glasses and stared down at the fishnet stockings peeking out of her boots like a hundred crisscrossing lines of black gunpowder. One of the garters was still loose, leaving her even more exposed—as if that was possible—to the explosive heat of his gaze.

“Look at me,” Ice demanded. His rich, husky voice rolled through her, stirring longings she had hidden away in the darkest recesses of her memory. Heat settled at the juncture of her thighs, her nipples tightened and her mouth went dry.

Disconcerted by her body’s responses and unable to meet his gaze, she looked away.

Ice cupped her jaw and firmly turned her face toward him, pulling her away from Rex. Her gaze locked with eyes now as deep blue as the ocean. Commanding, captivating eyes. Framed by thick lashes. But it wasn’t his eyes that finally sparked her recognition; it was the aura of pure power that hit her like the painful thud of her heart when she had realized he was never coming back.

He stroked his thumb over the apple of her cheek, the gesture at once comforting and familiar. A tangled web of emotions swept through her body like a firestorm. The world fell away.

James.

Heartless Bastard.

Lana swallowed hard and fought the warring urges to kiss him and slap him across the face.

For a split second, his breathing hitched and his eyes widened. He glanced over at Rex and back to her. His expression shifted from curious to considering, and she caught a gleam in his eyes. Calculating. Determined.

Did he recognize her? Two years ago she had been twenty pounds heavier, her pale complexion marked with freckles and her curly hair just brushing the top of her shoulders. Two years ago she had been stupid and naive, thinking she had found a man she could actually trust—someone who would never hurt her.

Now she knew better. And that kind of knowledge changed a girl. Made her immune to a Heartless Bastard’s bone-melting cheek stroking and irresistible charms.

She slapped his hand away and, boy, did it feel good.

“Roxie.” His sharp tone snapped her out of her reverie, but not as much as his warm hand clasping her own. “What the hell are you doing here, dressed like that? I almost didn’t recognize you.”


Party Participants



Sunday, 1 December 2013

Spotlight: Betting It All by Cate Masters

About the book:
Title: Betting It All 
Author: Cate Masters
Genres: Historical Romance
Publisher: Decadent Publishing


Blurb:

Can the daughter of a well-known prostitute start a new life where no one knows her family history? Norah Hawkins is sure going to try. When a letter arrives deeding her property in San Francisco, she packs her bags.

Irishman Gerard MacKenzie likes his life free and easy, but is tired of the snobbish East Coast folk. San Francisco has enough vice and folly to suit his needs. Meeting Norah gives him the opportunity to bartend in her saloon. Maybe he can convince her to let him play the piano. She’s a shrewd businesswoman, and negotiating with her makes his blood boil. Damn if she doesn’t make his blood boil in other ways, too.

The morning of April 18, 1906, a terrible earthquake buries their dreams beneath the city’s ruins. Can Norah and Mac rebuild their lives? Will rebuilding their dreams bond them forever, or tear them apart?


Buy Links:


Amazon

All Romance

Barnes and Noble

Excerpt

Lord, she must have left her common sense in New Jersey. A man like Mac would prove to be nothing but trouble. Mischief twinkled in his eyes. Back in her hotel room to repack her scant belongings, Norah felt it in her bones. Deeper than your bones, a small voice told her. She felt it in a way unfamiliar to her. It rattled her nerves. It turned her thoughts to him at the most inconvenient times, wondering what sort of man Gerard McKenzie truly was beneath his sharp tongue and wily ways. It robbed her of common sense and self-control, inventing ways to stay near him. When he’d practically insisted she hire him, the thrill running through her both startled and intrigued her. No man had so much as laid a finger on her, not with her permission anyway. Yet she found herself imagining what Mac’s touch might feel like.
In the hallway, he whistled Melody of Love. She imagined him singing the lyrics:
Hold me in your arms, dear
Dream with me
Cradled by your kisses, tenderly
While a choir of angels from above
Sings our melody of love.
What must it be like, to know such a deep love? To trust a man with her heart?
A small laugh burst forth. If she’d learned anything in her twenty-five years, it was that men couldn’t be trusted. Especially not with a woman’s heart. The only time she’d given in to curiosity and let her heart rule over her head left her burning with shame. The thrill of Floyd Enders’s attentions turned to surprise when his fluttering kiss grew forceful, his groping desperate as he pinned her to the ground. Another attempt to prove her cut from the same cloth as Estelle, another whore to be used at his whim and tossed aside.
A bitter chuckle escaped. She’d done the tossing instead, and her kick to his hard groin left him writhing in agony. Too bad it wasn’t the lasting kind of pain, like he’d inflicted on her, claiming she’d begged for it. His lie followed her for years on the whispering lips of other boys who wanted what Floyd supposedly had.
Would Mac treat her so poorly? Of course not. She’d provide him with wages. If she wasn’t careful, he’d woo more from her, and soon she’d have less than nothing. No money, no saloon and worst, a ruined reputation. No man would rob her of that.
She lifted her bag, then thought better of it. Let Mac learn right away to take orders from her. After setting it on the bed, she put on her hat and opened the door.
Mac leaned his shoulder against the wall, one leg crossed over the other, aimlessly twirling his tweed cap in his hands. Glancing up, he straightened and scrunched the cap.
At least he pretended seriousness. “Please get my bags.”
He flashed a smile and winked. “Yes ma’am.”
A more fragile female might be devastated by his charms. Oh, she hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be a terrible mistake.
Hoisting one bag under his arm, he grabbed the handle of the remaining one. “All set.”
“Excellent.” She led the way downstairs, stopping at the front desk to check out and settle her account. Outside, she found Mac wearing his cap and a smile.
The bustle of the busy street made her hurry in excitement. “I wish I had time to explore the city.”
“It’s something, isn’t it? Makes me feel more alive.”
Slowing her pace, she glanced over. “Yes. Exactly.” She couldn’t hide her surprise at sharing that feeling. “Once I make my success, I’ll indulge my curiosity. Until then, I have too much work ahead.” She hurried on.
He fell into easy step with her. “There’s always time for work. My mama always said it’s more important to take time to celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?”
“Life.” He said it as if she should have known the answer.
Funny, she’d never shared that inclination. Life presented too many challenges, too many obstacles she had to scrabble over. “


Author Bio: 

Multipublished, award-winning author Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. When not spending time with her dear hubby, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at http://catemasters.blogspot.com  and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.
~Contact Links
Catch up to Cate:
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Review: Cowboy's Way by @writercatfox @FlauntNovellas

Cowboy’s Way
by: Cathryn Fox

Author Information (optional):

Book Information:
Synopsis
Sports medicine doctor and weekend cowboy, Chase Cooper, is ready to settle down, and he’s beginning to wonder if his best friend from high school, Mari Blair, could be the one that got away.  Coop and his buddies have come up with a plan, but he never imagined it would be Mari’s sister, Julia—the girl who was always off-limits—, who would take him up on his invitation.
When lawyer, Julia Blair, finds herself on a dude ranch half way across the country, only to discover the invitation was meant for her vivacious twin sister, she knows she has two choices—go home alone or walk a day in her sister’s shoes. When she sets eyes on sexy cowboy Chase Cooper, the choice becomes easy. She's determined to stay and have some carefree fun while at the ranch.
Coop can’t believe the mix up, but when he discovers Julia wants to play, then play they will. When things get steamy and playtime becomes so much more, he’s determined to prove she’s the girl for him. And he’s not above using a few tricks of the trade to get his point across…
Buy Links:



Review:
Going to admit this one was a little hard to get started for me. I read the first chapter twice before I could get into the story. Once i did get into it though i fell in love with the characters. Julia is a plain jane with a vixen on the inside and Coop is cowboy with a rough exterior but a heart of gold.

This was a sexy sweet read that was thoroughly enjoyable.

Overall i give this 4 out of 5

PS any chance of getting books for Jag and Mac i so want to know how there weeks played out.