Friday, February 26, 2016

Elizabeth O’Roark Release Day: March 14, 2016

Cover Design: Kari March
Release Day: March 14, 2016

"That girl isn't just trouble of the not-a-team-player, not-a-reliable-runner variety. She's trouble of the devious, manipulative, too-f***ing-hot-for-her-own good variety. She's the kind of girl who causes trouble merely by existing, and then makes sure to cause more.And the last thing I need right now is more trouble."

A failing farm.
His father’s debt.
And a struggling college track team.
Will Langstrom has too many responsibilities, and the last thing he needs is Olivia Finnegan, a beautiful but troubled new transfer student.

A smart mouth.
A strong right hook.
And a secret that could destroy her.
Olivia is her own worst enemy, with a past she can’t seem to escape, and the last person she wants help from is a cocky track coach she can never seem to please.
Refusing to be pushed away, Will is determined to save her.
And determined to resist an attraction that could destroy them both.

One of Five ARC's of Waking Olivia

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Enter this Direct Link:

About the Author

Elizabeth O’Roark lives in Washington, DC with her 3 children. After many years spent writing scintillating brochures about amniocentesis and heart surgery, she is thrilled to have found a job that allows her to just make s*** up.

Connect with Elizabeth

Monday, February 15, 2016

Angel Hands Blog Tour by Cait Reynolds

Angel Hands Excerpt
A Note from the Opera Ghost

Chers Mesdames et Messieurs,

It is a curious thing to be a legend in one’s own lifetime, or perhaps more accurately, a lifetime in one’s own legend.
As with all lives and legends, certain things about my story are quite true, while others have been exaggerated to the point of farce. Perhaps one of the worst of these offenders has been M. Gaston Leroux himself with his ridiculous pulp penny dreadful. Allow me to state here once and definitively that I have never referred to myself in the third person. Nor do I have the ability to breathe, sing, and swim at the same time. Nor did I possess a torture chamber in my house. 
Good heavens, who would think of such a thing?
M. Lon Cheney in the 1920’s cinematographic presentation of my story did not help matters much. Both he and M. Leroux seem to have taken an extraordinary delight in greatly exaggerating my deformities. That is not to say that I did not posses a face that…well, not even my mother could love my face. It is also true that I wore a mask.
However, let me assure you that my eyes are not yellow, nor do they glow in the dark. I have a fully-formed nose. I do not have jaundice, nor do I smell like rotting flesh.  I was never skeletally thin—except for that brief, unhappy period of my life when I traveled with the gypsies and lived off little more than sips of water and regular beatings. In point of fact, my ‘work’ about the opera house kept me quite fit, and I never lacked for food with the opera house kitchens so conveniently located next to one of my secret passages.
Ah, yes. The secret passages and infamous mirror. There, I will admit to the truth of it all. My opera house was riddled with passages and trapdoors of my own invention. The mirror was my particular triumph, and non, I regretfully inform you that I will not share the secret of how I achieved it.
But the Opéra de Paris—oh, I beg your pardon. This is another misconception I must clear up. M. Leroux would have it that I was a great architect who had been responsible for the entire design of the Palais Garnier, which enabled me to build my ‘lair.’ Please tell me that you, dear readers, are not so foolish as to assume that one man could design an entire opera house? Charles Garnier had a veritable army of draftsmen, clerks, and engineers working with him to design his Third Republic monstrosity.
No, I inhabited an older—but only a little smaller—opera house known as the Opéra de Paris, situated in a quartier not far north of where the Garnier would eventually be. Eventually, it was torn down—a casualty of Haussmann’s mania. It has been forgotten about, along with so much of the Paris I knew.
But, change is inevitable, n’est-ce pas? Even I, who thought my existence to be a single life sentence of isolation and darkness, found that people and circumstances combined to render my life far more interesting and varied than I have ever anticipated.
This brings me to the more modern incarnations of my tale. M. Andrew Lloyd Webber wrote a musical production on a scale that is somewhere between the Opera Garnier and Le Lapin Agile in terms of both music and spectacle. However, he did get certain aspects of my story surprisingly correct.
I did fall in love with a young opera singer and had my heart broken by her. I also did set fire to my opera house—though, I did not do it by crashing the chandelier onto the stage, nor did I ignite barrels of gunpowder (per M. Leroux’s fantastical ideas—I mean, come on, man! Where would I be able to purchase such large quantities of gunpowder and keep it dry while storing it in a damp cellar by an underground lake!).
I digress.
In truth, the ‘love story’ of the singer and her valiant suitor is mostly correct. I loved her. She loved him, and he loved her. I went mad with love, and there were those who stood in my way and paid the ultimate price for it. In the end, I was redeemed from madness by her compassion. She and the boy left me, a shell of a man with a broken heart skulking about the shell of an opera house with ash for a stage.
There was no Persian police chief involved in any way, shape, or form.
What nonsense.
I have never been to Persia in my life.
Ah. I digress again.
The world thought my story ended that lonely, smoky night when my love left me. In point of fact, however, one could say that was actually when my story truly began.
It is now my great pleasure to set the record straight and hopefully restore my legend to merely a lifetime.

Your most obedient servant,

Postscript: I have used the actual names of all persons involved. Except my own. It would not do to have one of those pesky ‘cease and desist’ letters find me.

Sometimes, it is best to begin at the end. 

Angel Hands, by Cait Reynolds, begins at the end of The Phantom of the Opera, revealing, for the first time, the true story behind Leroux’s fantastical tale and the real fate of the Phantom himself. 

When the Opera de Paris is purchased and renovated, years after a mysterious fire nearly destroyed it, the Phantom finds himself unexpectedly resurrected - in the form of a young boy hired by the manager’s daughter to play pranks on the cast, crew, and audience. After all, the return of the infamous “Opera Ghost” can only be good for ticket sales, and Mireille Dubienne is determined to see her father’s investment become profitable. 

Plain, shrewd, and proud, Mireille pours the rage of her disappointed hopes and looming spinsterhood into helping her father manage the Opera de Paris and making it a success. 

What she doesn’t count on is the real “Opera Ghost” deciding he no longer wishes to be an understudy in his own domain, the theater that Mireille believes is hers. 

The Phantom and Mireille push each other to the limits of their cunning to control and manipulate each other, with no game too low to play. With each passing day, the stakes get higher, until surrender is no longer an option for the Phantom or Mireille. 

Every trick and betrayal drives them toward a startling truth that will change more than one life forever: you can’t love what you hate…but you can desire it. 


Cait Reynolds lives in Boston area with her husband and 4-legged fur child. She discovered her passion for writing early and has bugged her family and friends with it ever since. When she isn't cooking delicious meals, running around the city, rock climbing like a boss, or enjoying the rooftop deck that brings her closer to the stars, she writes. Reynolds is able to pull from real life experiences such as her kidney transplant, and her writing reflects her passion for life from having to face the darkest places and find the will to laugh.

Twitter @caitreynolds

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Valentine Love with a Navy Seal ~ Consenting Hearts by Muffy Wilson

Valentine Love with a Navy Seal ~ Consenting Hearts by @SexyMuffyWilson #ValentinesDayLove #NavySealLove #ASMSG #Rafflecopter

Consenting Hearts


Muffy Wilson

Just as we cannot live without dreams, we
cannot live without love. Love is not found, for love is truly blind. Lovers do
not meet for they dwell inside of one another until the moment a whisper
ignites the heart and a kiss touches the soul. 
And we call that the beginning...of life with love.

So on Valentine's Day, what better way to lay tribute to love and lovers than
with a love story that just happens
not on purpose, not by design, not by any
other intention than to live life and love without boundaries? To fly limitless
into the arms of someone who completes your soul gives one wings.

Nothing can stop the power of love between a man and a woman.

This is a story about a professional woman, unlucky in love and tired of all things testosterone, who is erotically tempted by a female piano bar player and torch singer. Her intended tryst is derailed when she meets a Navy Seal in the lounge enjoying the sweet temptations of a Southern Comfort Manhattan. 

How does the night unfold for the strangers above the jeweled colored sparkling lights strewn like a bed in the valley below? Perhaps a twosome or maybe a threesome. Or...

Perhaps forever is only for a night.

You know, the
longer and more that I do this, it never gets easier to talk about myself. I
think writers are inherently private, why I don’t know, because everything we
write is revealing in some way. But, I love talking about my books and
characters, so I guess, someday, I’ll get used to talking about myself too!

How long have you been a writer and how did you come to

In many respects, I have written most of my life. I was in
sales and marketing before I retired and I had to write proposals, proformas,
presentations and contracts so I had to have some command of the English
language. It was only after I started writing provocative romance and erotica
that I realized how little command I actually have!! But, I started, in earnest,
writing stories and books in 2010. My first story, The Storm, was published in
2010 by Oysters & Chocolate, an online magazine now defunct. The $10 I
earned mad me a pro! I hope that isn’t a sign of things to come!

How did you come up with this story?

I wrote a very short workshop teaser, The Bath, for a group
I am in in which the woman bathing dozes and feels hands on her, soothing her
tired muscles and becoming more insistent, erotically. She gives herself over
to the sensations and then as she drains the tub thinks she sees a face in the
water. It was the beginning or a romance that spans a century about a seafaring
man that keeps returning to his home to try to find his beloved, Amalya who
died in childbirth. He mistakenly thinks that Emily, now  in his home, is she. That is how this all
started and these two characters literally swept me away.


What are the best and the worst aspects of writing?

As always, the agony of a blank page and the ecstasy of two
little words, “The End”. In all fairness, writing is a solitary endeavor, so
the loneliness gets to me occasionally, but I have taken to the couch and write
beside my husband as he does his crossword puzzles and watches sports. And I
have my characters to keep me company.

What inspires you to write?

I know writers always say ‘everything’ but for me, that
really isn’t true. A melody might, something that happened to me in my life,
someone, or something I saw. Once, on the day that JFK was assassinated, my
Mother and I were shopping in Paris. My Dad was an Air Force colonel and we
were stationed there for three years, but that is a story in and of itself!
Anyway, I saw a man strike a woman across the Champs Elysees in front of the
Arc de Triomphe. The ‘City of Love’ changed for me forever in that one moment.
Things like that inspire me. Politics, for example, do not so everything is not
inspiring to me. I suspect, to sum it up, the human condition is fascinating to
me; how people treat and react to one another at their best and worst, is

How did you conduct your research for Consenting

Humm, I really didn’t. This is another time when much of
what I wrote, I lived. The same is true of Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences,
although not all, for sure. The setting in The Para-Postage of Emily, is
on an island between Lake Michigan and Green Bay. For many years, my husband
and I lived on an Island in the middle between both of those bodies of water
and the ferry had to cross “Death’s Door, so named by the Indians because of
the treacherous currents. It is a small 36 square mile island settled by Nordic
settlers many generations ago so many of the current residents are related.
Small Island, big gossip! Anyway, we lived there for nearly 20 years. That is
where this story takes place, in a small part of my heart. For Consenting Hearts, The beginning is how I met my husband. The drama surrounding the meeting is pure fabrication, as is the rest of the story, but that is how this lovely piece begins and why.

What are 3 of your favorite lines/quotes from Consenting Hearts?

I have so many, but these are just a few that are PG rated for this interview:

Sailie took her first sip, feeling the warmth of
the drink claiming her body, inch by inch. She savored that very first sip
luxuriously. It was like a lover’s hands sliding down her body, igniting every
inch as they felt their way to her toes.

swish, swish…and her thong bit into her tender folds as a poignant reminder.

Dylan lit a cigar and Sailie thought she would like
to die in his arms from the mere honeyed scent of the burning leaves. 

What would your friends say is your best quality?

I am a good friend, I think they would say. I hope they
would anyway. I try to be helpful and supportive. It is so hard to be a writer
today. There are 55,000 new books published monthly. Anyone can write and
publish a book. I can be very discouraging for an author to be read and, as you
know, promotion is time consuming and exhausting leaving little time to do what
you love. I try to do whatever I can to help my friends. I try to be generous
with my time and whatever talent I possess that might be useful to them.

Are reader reviews important to you?

Reader reviews are very important to me. Positive
reinforcement is essential to my life-force. It is like getting all dressed up
for a party looking your best, and no one notices if I don’t get reviews. And
it is crushing. You know, shameless self-promotion only goes so far, and that’s
usually with your family! As in anything, word of mouth is the best form of
advertising—and so it goes with books. Oddly enough, while I don’t particularly
care for average reviews, they do not bother me. You cannot please everyone and
one really never knows a reader’s points of reference. Anyway, I am harder on
my work than anyone else could ever be.

I have been fortunate to be selected as a Readers' Favorite. You can read some of the wonderful nearly two dozen 5 star reviews here:

Do you have any blogs/websites?

Do I ever!!

Favorite Reviews
BookBub AuthorPage
Fan Page
| Mailing
List Sign-Up
| Google+ |
iTunes Books
| Barnes
and Noble
| All
Romance eBooks
| Smashwords  | Goodreads
Silk Dreams Publishing
 | The
Romance Review
| Authorgraph | AuthorsInfo | Manic Readers | The Muffy Wilson Daily | Muffy
Wilson Literotica
| Cheerleaders in Heat News

What do you do when you don’t write?

My husband and I used to boat, but we lost interest when gas
prices went so high. We had a 28’ Grady White. Beautiful boat. But we could eat
lobster every day for what it cost us to go fishing in the Gulf a few times a
month! That takes all the fun out of a hobby. I walk a lot as, like Emily, I
have a wee Havanese dog of 12 fluffy pounds and I sew. I am also a licensed
realtor, although I have been ‘inactive’ for the last year making a heartfelt
effort with my writing. Come to think of it, I have done little else but write
in the last year!!

Tell us about your other books? 

Thank you for asking. I have this new book on pre-order now releasing
on Valentine’s Day titled Consenting Heart: A Very Special Valentines. Pre-order
. It includes elements of the day I met my husband but the rest is pure
sizzling fiction.
The setting in The Para-Postage of Emily, is on
an island between Lake Michigan and Green Bay. For many years, my husband and I
lived on an Island in the middle between both of those bodies of water and the
ferry had to cross “Death’s Door, so named by the Indians because of the
treacherous currents. It is a small 36 square mile island settled by Nordic
settlers many generations ago so many of the current residents are related.
Small Island, big gossip! Anyway, we lived there for nearly 20 years. That is
where this love story takes place, in a small part of my heart. The story of a seafaring
man, tormented by loss and love, who returns nightly for his love Amalya who
died in childbirth, only to discover Emily who now owns his home. Love across a
century. Very sexy, very romantic! Order Here

Then I am contributing to a real scorcher, Alpha Fever: 22
Sizzling Contemporary and Paranormal Romance Stories. My story is about a good
neighbor and The Butterfly Collector. Pre-order
. It has an interesting backdrop of BDSM. I am not  proficient in that genre so it is mild, but
still an interesting story I think about releasing ourselves to the care and
trust of another and how we blossom as a result of what we learn about
ourselves. The protagonist has a club foot, and yes, I once dated a man with a
club foot. As with most disabilities, visible or not, it is our own feelings
about it that are the most crippling. My last release was a fund raiser I help
with for a friend that suffers from Ataxia, a neurological disorder affecting
voluntary coordination of muscle movements. I wrote an inspirational piece about
when I was raped and how we can overcome anything, with the right help and
desire. This Beautiful Escape Order
All proceeds go to charity and you’ll learn a little more about me and
have loads of inspiring stories, poems, quotes and daily reads to perk you up.

I have thirteen or so books/anthologies published now so I
can’t talk about each of them, however, I love Moonbeams
of Unintended Consequences
as one of my favs and also, along with Emily, I
am writing a sequel. This is an interracial love story about a famous opera
star and a young beautiful designer. And yes, I did ‘know’ a celebrated opera
star and the famous San Francisco Whitcomb Hotel does exist. My last release,
written with my friend Chrissy Laurence, was in September in the form of Cheerleaders
in Heat
and that is a real 5 flame eroco-throbber. Fun and funny, but
serious, it exposes the underbelly of life in South Miami’s nightlife; there is
some violence that alters the course of my heroine’s life.

Your readers will be hearing more about those books in the
coming months as we delve deeper into my sordid writing and past. In the
meantime, they can check out my books and add them to there Wish List on my Amazon
Author Page

If you could share one thing about yourself that you would
like readers

to know what would it be?

I never graduated from college. Most people do not know that
about me and just assume I did. While I would never want alter the course of my
life, that is my second greatest regret. But, I am happy with how my life has
gone; I am wealthy beyond money, I had a great career as a Regional Director
with IBM, and my life has been enriched by all those that have touched me and
continue to love me. I have a wonderful husband who thinks it is funny I write
‘porn’ and a step-son who thinks I am awesome. Could it get any better than

Well, I suppose I should say “Good Bye” as I would hate to
bore you into thinking my books are equally tiresome! They are lovely.
Read some of the reviews, speaking of reviews. It has been an honor to be here
with you today. I so appreciate your time and interest in sharing my work with
your friends, family and fans. They are all a special lot and I love each and
every one of them. Thank you for stopping by.

told him what she had done to herself in the ladies’ room, the slight smell of
vodka and lemons on her breath escaping from full, ruby lips as he watched them
move with each word and syllable. He was getting hard again; she could see the
bulge in his pants. She described in detail exactly what she had done, how she
felt and how it had made her feel when she emerged from the ladies’ room:
strong, powerful, in control—hot. She
leaned in closer and whispered into his ear.

“I am
so tempted to guide your hand up to the wet desire you caused between my

His bulge
was quite obviously rock hard, as he no doubt remembered when she’d returned
from the ladies’ room but in earnest at her seductive suggestion…

would be less than an officer and a gentleman if I didn’t oblige. I must
confess,” Dylan said, “I thought I smelled the fragrance of sex on you, and you
made me hard as steel—Navy steel hard…Jesus, Sailie…” Ordinarily, a comment
like that would have brought some chuckles but the two of them were dead
serious, staring into one another’s hungry eyes.

 “Last call for alcohol. You don’t hafta go
home; you just gotta go. You can’t stay here,” the bartender hollered
interrupting their locked gaze.

started to shuffle around them gathering their things, collecting their coats and
umbrellas, leaving. Sailie and Dylan had just gotten fresh drinks, so they had
a few minutes to whisper and touch before they would have to join the others
and leave. Shortly, the bartender started turning on lights and flashing them
dim to high. That was the universal message that before too long, they would
stay on. Sailie and Dylan were unconcerned. They had nothing but one another in
their shared look. And Sailie thought of the torch singer.

piano player stood, looked at Sailie and blew out the candle on her piano. In
the flicker of the burning light, Sailie saw the invitation.

broke his gaze, stood and took Sailie’s elbow. “We’d better leave before they
have us arrested,” he said. And they smiled, knowingly, at one another. Sailie
was hoping there would be better reasons ahead to get them both arrested.

Do you mind if I give my friend, Meesa, a ride home?”

Disappointment hung on his voice.

piano player.”

of course not. But, I have a small car.”

problem. I mean, would you like to have a nightcap at my house? I’ll ride with
you and Meesa can bring my car when she is finished here. She doesn’t have one.
You don’t mind, do you?” What could he say sporting that hard-on?

“No, I
mean yes! I would love to come have a drink at your house and no, I don’t mind
if she brings your car. I didn’t realize you were friends.”

yes, we’ve been friends for a little while. I’ll explain later. Let me give her
the keys.”

they rose to go, Sailie broke away from the man who had held her attention the
entire night to the woman that held it now. She bent to the young woman’s ear
as she slipped a twenty into the bountiful brandy snifter and inhaled the
lavender fragrance she remembered so swell. Her aroma sent an electric bolt to the
moist center of Sailie’s desire.

to my house when you are finished, won’t you?”

of course, I will. I’ve been watching you all night, both of you, but then you
knew that,” the long-legged blond with the soft fingertips answered matter-of-factly.

are my keys. We’ll have a drink. You will come, promise? Do you remember how to
get there?”

course, I said I will, Sailie. I’ll be here awhile cleaning up, but I should be
there in about an hour. And yes, I remember how to get there. It hasn’t been
that long—just last night.”

don’t mind him, too, do you?”

Oh, lord Sailie, no. Are you fucking kidding? He’s gorgeous. And you look
absolutely radiant. Is that an iridescent blush on your cheeks? You look

you, sugar. No, it’s not blush but excitement and a little bit of cum. See ya
at my house.”

kissed her ear, the twenty safely tucked in the snifter, sucked her earlobe
into her mouth with a little flick of her tongue and turned to the man that had
her mojo melting.

on, Dylan. Are you ready to go? I’ll ride with you to my house.”

sure, Sailie. You, ah…you, ah, you kissed her…?”

Sailie turned and wiggled a wave to Meesa. “We’re close.”

well, then…”

Pre-order link for Consenting Hearts now

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Join us for the Release Event, Will You Be Mine? Multi-Author Prizes, Giveaways, eBooks, Games and Interviews. You want it? We got it!!

Welcome to the release event for Consenting Hearts by author Muffy Wilson! Release day is Valentine's Day 2016. Will You be Mine? From 8am - 9pm! All Day! 

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Pre-order link for Consenting Hearts now available:

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Book Cover by Kellie Dennis 
of Book Covers by Design

Editor: John Hudspith

Join in for some fun as we celebrate this new release! Giveaways, contests, guest authors, games and of course, virtual food and drinks.

We hope to see you here!

Muffy, author of provocative romance about
love, sex, hope and passion, was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two
older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged
and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force
which required the family to travel extensively. Muffy spent her formative
years in Europe and 'came of age' in France which forged her joie de vivre and
love for books, writing and education.

Married and living in the tropical paradise of
SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy dabbles in real estate, writes and
enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Burt.

~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion

Now on Pre-Order

Consenting Hearts A Very Special Valentine

Feb  2016 ~ My Life in the Sky A Memoir of Lt.Col. Joe Lyle Jr

Mar 2016 ~ Alpha Fever Anthology with Gina Kincade from Naughty Nights Press 

May 2016 ~  Sequel to The Para-Portage of Emily

July 2016 ~ Ribbons of Moonlight Sequel to Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences

© 2000-2016
Muffy Wilson. 
[] All rights reserved.
Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission
from the author.