Sunday, August 20, 2017

Trust Me Excerpt

Rachel Lewis hides her looks behind dark framed glasses and drab clothes. As the head librarian in Holton, she is satisfied with her life and her appearance. Rachel isn't looking for love or a relationship, but Paul captivates her. He lives in a completely different world, but she wants him more than she has ever wanted any other man.

Paul Hart is handsome, rich, and successful. As the owner of a thriving business, he is happy with short-term relationships and jaded women. Paul has been betrayed too many times to trust a woman, but Rachel intrigues him. She isn't like any other woman he has ever known. Can he learn to trust her?

Return to Holton, Texas for Victoria and Andrew’s wedding to see if Rachel can win Paul’s trust. Trust Me is the third book in the Holton Series but may be read as a standalone novel.

The man had made it to the door, but she still could not see his face. However, there was something familiar about him. When he opened the door and stepped into the lobby area, the light illuminated his features, and she recognized him immediately. Her heart began to beat faster, and blood rushed through her veins causing her whole body to grow warm.
He was absolutely gorgeous. Rachel had thought so the first time she had seen him, and a second look did nothing to change that opinion. His hair was jet black and glossy. The dark waves that covered his head were currently wet with the residue from the sleet but were usually thick and shiny. His face was classic perfection. The forehead was wide and smooth. He had prominent cheekbones and a strong chin. His eyes were a cold winter gray and just as chilling. They were framed with thick dark lashes and set under dark straight eyebrows. His lips were full, and when stretched into a smile, they revealed smooth, even teeth.
Rachel had only seen him really smile once, but it had been devastating. It was possible she had only seen him smile once because she had only seen him once before today; however, she doubted it. He did not seem the type of man to smile like that often. Half smiles, polite smiles perhaps but not the full devastating smile she had seen. He typically presented a solemn and thoughtful fa├žade, but that day he had smiled at Victoria which was hard not to do.
Rachel smiled herself just thinking about Victoria. Victoria Carson, soon to be Moore, had to be the reason the man was here, standing in her library. Victoria and Andrew Moore were getting married in a little over a week, and he was in the wedding. He was tall, standing a little over six feet. His build was a sculptor's dream. His shoulders were broad, and he had a muscular chest that tapered to his waist. He had a flat stomach and strong, lean legs. He was dressed in a suit that had never been on a rack. It was cut to fit him like a glove. The double-breasted jacket emphasized his broad shoulders, and Rachel knew the shirt was silk. The black overcoat was cashmere, and the shoes on his feet were real leather and handmade. Everything about him screamed wealth and success.
His name was Paul Hart. Rachel knew he had wealth, and a lot of it. She also knew he had success, again a lot of it. She had a small crush on him. It reminded her of the time in high school when she had thought she was in love with the current Hollywood heartthrob. It was unrealistic and impractical but still fun to dream. He was a man totally out of her league, and yet, he fascinated her like no man ever had.


Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Resisting the Heartbreaker by Christine Glover Giveaway!

Contemporary Romance
Date Published: August 17, 2017

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He’s breaking down her resistance one sexy moment at a time…

Director Trevor Maguire is determined to protect a secret that could destroy his family. The only person he trusts to help him is his sexy helicopter pilot, Samantha Bennett. She’s got troubles of her own and desperately needs cash so her company won’t go belly up. Trevor saves her business so he can use her company to do research for a movie while also conducting his investigation with her assistance.

Samantha’s got a non-fraternization rule in place for a reason. No way will she get involved with a client. Sure, she’s attracted to Trevor, but he’s only with her temporarily and she’s not to into casual flings, even if the hottest man in Hollywood wants her. They try to resist each other, but they can’t deny the heat flaring between them and their sizzling chemistry spirals into an intense connection.

When Trevor unearths the truth about his past, he’s ready to move forward, but he’s got a difficult choice to make—will he go it alone or will he bring the woman he loves with him?

About the Author

Christine Glover is the author of tantalizing, sensual, emotional contemporary romances. She enjoys finding the silly in the serious, making wine out of sour grapes, and giving people giggle fits along with heartfelt hugs. When she’s not writing, you can find her traveling the world, cooking gourmet food, and desperately seeking a corkscrew.

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Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Monthly Giveaway - $10 Amazon Gift Card

This month' giveaway is a $10 Amazon gift card. Enter each day to increase your chances to win. Good Luck!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Excerpt from The Lost Savannah

The Lost Savannah is the second novella in the Lost and Found Pets series. Alexandra Prescott opened Lost and Found Pets because she loves animals. Reuniting pet and owner is more than just a job.

Alex is hired to find a lost Savannah, a rare and expensive cat breed. She quickly learns the cat isn’t just missing. The cat was stolen. The main suspect is the next door neighbor who is obsessed with Savannahs and the game of golf.

Soon Alex discovers a black market ring in the world of fanatic Savannah cat breeders. She has to dust off her rusty investigative skills to solve the mystery of the lost Savannah.

The woman who opened the front door of our office was immaculate. She was perfectly dressed in a custom made suit. The handbag she held in one hand had a designer label, and the matching shoes were spotless. Her jewelry consisted of a diamond watch, diamond earrings, and a large diamond on her ring finger. Her hair and makeup were flawless and her creamy skin, smooth and wrinkle free. Everything about her screamed money.
In contrast, I was dressed in my usual uniform of blue jeans, black t-shirt, and black tennis shoes. The tennis shoes had a designer label but only because I needed shoes that provided exceptional support and held up under unusual conditions. My jewelry consisted of only a watch with a simple black band. I wore little makeup over my lightly tanned skin, and my dark auburn hair was a short pixie cut that took little or no grooming.
The woman closed the door behind her, looked around a little disdainfully, and took a step forward. Claire and I exchanged a look. We didn’t have any appointments scheduled. Occasionally we get walk-ins, but they are rare. My agency, Lost and Found Pets, is housed in the two front rooms of my home. You have to know where we are to find us.
The office is actually one large area that was formally the living and dining rooms. I had the place converted to house my agency. Claire and I both have a desk and two chairs for clients. On Claire’s side, there is a small play area for children while my side has a small sofa near the front window.
Our guest turned to Claire whose desk is a little closer to the door than mine. Claire is my complete opposite. She is short and just a little chubby. She has long blond hair, pretty blue eyes, and a sweet smile. Her bubbly personality comes through with every word she speaks. She is friendly, kind, and supportive. I am none of those things.
Claire glanced at me briefly but gave the woman a professional smile. She is much better with people than I am.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“Are you Alexandra Prescott?” the woman asked. Her voice sounded exactly as I expected. The words were spoken in a snotty, condescending tone. Her attitude was starting to piss me off.
“Nope, that’s me,” I said in a careless tone. My social skills are not the best. I don’t like small talk and pointless conversation. Usually I simply state the facts and move on. I can follow the social norms if needed. I just seldom see the need.
Claire cocked her head and discreetly made a face. My childhood had been rough. I met Claire the year I came to live with my aunt after the death of my drug-addicted mother. Nora and Claire helped me heal and deal with the aftereffects of my mother’s treatment. They also tried to get me to be more sociable. Nora passed away five years ago, but Claire continues the quest. Laughing silently, I managed a polite smile for the woman.
“How may I help you?”
“I’m Grace Carmichael. Micah Parks referred me to you. I need you to find my son’s cat.”
A shot of adrenaline rushed through me. Micah Parks is a conceited, arrogant, asshole. He also runs one of the most successful private investigation agencies in town. His clients are the wealthiest in the area, and his cases typically involve large dollar, white collar crimes.
I had met Micah back when I had been working as a private investigator for another agency. My boss at the time, Eddie Hill, owned a small firm. He had hired me as an intern, which allowed me to get my private investigator’s license. Eddie is soft-spoken, quiet, and one of the best people I know. I learned more from Eddie than I did from anyone else. He retired a few years ago, but we keep in touch.
The case I had been working on for Eddie conflicted with one The Parks Agency was conducting. When Micah had insisted on a meeting with my boss, Eddie had taken me with him. Micah had attempted to scare Eddie off the case, and when intimidation didn’t work, he had attempted to bribe him. Eddie was small time, but he had no intention of bowing down to the big man. We solved the case, and Micah had taken notice. After I left Eddie to start my own specialty agency, Micah had offered me a job. I had turned it down but gave him one of my cards. That had been over five years ago.
A referral from Micah Parks was gold. Lost and Found Pets is a small agency. I’m not looking to grow bigger, but expanding my clientele to a new group of people is always important. I don’t often get repeat customers. We do have one or two clients whose pets are escape artists, but most of the people who come to us only need to use us once. We get a lot of referrals from our clients but always need new customers. Especially ones with money.
Most of my clients were well off but not considered wealthy. They have money to spend but not the kind of money that flowed in the circles Micah Parks inhabited. The fact he had sent Grace Carmichael to me was a surprise. We hadn’t parted on the best of terms, and I thought he had forgotten all about me.
Pointing to the chairs in front of my desk, I studied Grace as she settled in her seat. The woman had to be in her forties but looked ten years younger. Her blonde hair was expertly groomed, her lips full and discreetly colored, and her body thin and toned. But I’m an expert at reading people. The hair was dyed, the eyes tucked, and the lips injected. Grace Carmichael paid a good deal of money to look the way she did.
“You said you needed us to find a cat?” I asked.
“Yes,” Grace replied. “Sammie. She is a Savannah that belongs to my son. I need you to find her.”
A Savannah is a fairly rare cat. It is a cross between a domestic cat and a serval, which is a medium-sized wild African cat. I’ve only seen one, but he had been beautiful. They have been gaining in popularity, but they are extremely expensive. They are also very large for a cat. Somehow it didn’t surprise me that the Carmichaels had one.
“We can certainly try to find Sammie, Mrs. Carmichael.”
“Micah said his firm did not conduct searches for pets,” she said haughtily, “but he assured me you were the best. Otherwise, I would not be here.”
For a moment, I wanted to slap her down. I forced myself to think about the consequences of turning away a referral from Micah Parks. He wouldn’t be pleased, and he could certainly make my life difficult. If I accepted and did a good job, more referrals could come my way. Not accepting wouldn’t be a smart move.
“You can leave,” I said nonchalantly. So much for being smart.