Teaser Tuesday – Arlene Hittle

Breaking the Rules

Faced with compliance of a ridiculous new Arizona law, by-the-book mental health care facility administrator Allyson Cunningham must find an interpreter who speaks a made-for-TV language. Prime candidate Donovan Marshall has the language skills she so desperately needs, but shows a disturbing disregard for all rules and restrictions. While Allyson struggles to secure another perfect rating for her facility, convince Donovan to conform and control her inappropriate attraction to an employee, Donovan makes it his prime directive to persuade starchy Ally it doesn’t hurt to break a few rules.

BreakingTwitter #romance


About Arlene: Arlene Hittle is a Midwestern transplant who now makes her home in northern Arizona. She has her father to thank for her love of all things sci-fi. He took her to see Star Wars when she was six. She immediately fell in love with R2-D2, C3PO and Luke Skywalker. (Only with the Star Wars re-release in the ’90s did she succumb to the bad-boy appeal of Han Solo.) Find her at arlenehittle.com, on Twitter or on Facebook.

The excerpt:

When Allyson followed Donovan back into the crowd a few minutes later, her eyes locked onto his rear end. He really filled out the black pants of his so-called uniform.

Bad idea, Allyson. He clearly avoids anything within a thousand yards of responsibility. She didn’t have to know him for more than fifteen minutes to realize he was hell-bent on living free of any serious commitments.

Not that she should care. If he wasn’t going to work for her, what Donovan Marshall did with his life had no bearing on her.

So why couldn’t she stop ogling his rear end?

“Stop it,” she hissed under her breath.

He turned back to her, a teasing grin on his lips. “Ah-ah-ah. You agreed it was my turn to be in charge.”

Allyson bit down on a smart-aleck retort, nodding instead. She needed this man-child’s help more than she needed to salve her pride.

She hung back as Donovan approached the gaggle of Klingon Starfleet officers and said something to them in what had to be their “native tongue.” The five of them scowled at him for a moment—at least she thought they were scowling—before one replied.

Allyson watched them carry on a short, seemingly cordial conversation. Before she could make sense of what was going on, Donovan returned to her side. Five pairs of eyes watched them.

Their naked curiosity discomforted her. “What did you say?”

“I asked them what was happening and said you had a proposition for them. Get over there. They’re waiting for you.”

She glanced at the group and swallowed down an irrational frisson of fear. “I thought you said to let you do the talking.”

“I changed my mind. You know what you need a heck of a lot more than I do.” Challenge sparked in his blue eyes. “Unless, of course, you’re chicken.”

“I am not chicken!”

With that, Allyson straightened her spine and marched up to the men in Starfleet garb. She explained what she needed and why, and handed each of them one of her cards. After concluding with “Please give me a call to set up an interview,” she flashed them all a smile and stormed back to Donovan.

His amusement was plain. “Very nice.”

“That was part of your plan?”

His grin widened and he nodded. “Klingons are warriors, and they respond to a challenge. I knew if I got you riled up, you’d be a hit. All you needed was the proper motivation.”

After Donovan finished explaining, she followed his gaze back to the group members, whose eyes were still on her. He stepped between her and them, shielding her from the hunger now obvious in their collective stare.

“We need to move on.” All traces of laughter gone, he took her by the elbow and propelled her toward the exit. Once they were in the relatively quiet concourse, he said, “You might have sold yourself a little too well. Those guys were drooling for you.”

“They must really be hard up to find this”—she gestured at herself—“attractive.”

Something dark and dangerous flashed in Donovan’s eyes. “You sell yourself short, Ally.”



“Ally-son. My name is Allyson, not Ally.”

He chuckled. “Sorry. I forgot.”

She rewarded him with a scowl. “I wish you’d stop laughing at my expense.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“You know it is. You just sent me to talk to a group of sex-starved Star Trek geeks who now, apparently, believe I’m a goddess.”

“Not a goddess. A warrior-ess.”

“I’m not sure I understand the distinction.”

He chuckled again. “You wouldn’t. But that’s okay. You wouldn’t be you if you did.”

Find BREAKING ALL THE RULES at Turquoise Morning PressAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboiBooksSmashwords and All Romance eBooks.


Monday Mayhem – Remembrance

No writerly mayhem to report this week. Just want to wish my fellow Americans a blessed Memorial Day, and remind everyone to take a moment to think of all those brave men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice for our country.


Peace, my friends.


Teaser Tuesday – Ute Carbone



Tender Bonds Book Blurb:

There comes a moment when the past we’ve left behind draws attention to itself and demands that we come to terms with it.  For Patty Dykstra, a woman who has long led an unassuming life, that moment comes after her aunt dies. Among a life’s worth of things,  Patty finds unopened cards from her father, a man that she hasn’t seen since she was six years old.

Patty is compelled to return to a small town in upstate New York to find the man who used to call her Star Shine, a man she barely remembers.  The Tender Bonds is the story of Patty’s life- altering journey, of the faith and hope that grow in the meanest of places, and of what it means to be truly home.


My father was led in the same as always. We made small talk, dancing around one another like the strangers we were. After a few minutes, I pulled the box off my lap and handed him the cards. I told him I planned to put them in an album. Like photos I didn’t have.

He fingered a Snoopy valentine he’d sent when I was ten. “You’ve kept them all these years.”

“I didn’t know about them until last March.”

He put the card down, glanced sidelong at the guard and then at me. “They were yours. I sent them to you.”

“I didn’t know. Aunt Ruby kept them.”

His eyes trailed down to his lap. “I sent them to you.”

“I know.”

“To you.” He glanced at the guard again. “To you.” His gaze shifted to me, filled with thirty-six years’ worth of loss.

“Mom never…she told me you were gone. I thought dead. I didn’t know.”

“Christ.” He put his head in his hands.

“It’s why I never tried to see you.” He did not answer. I watched as his whole body shook, his head still in his hands. I’d never seen a man sob before and it scared me, that emotion could overtake him like that. Tears began to run down my cheeks. I put my hand to his shoulder.

He sat up. “I’m sorry,” he said. His face hardened again into a mask, and he called the guard over and left me sitting there with a pile of memories.

Ute Carbone

Ute (who pronounces her name Oooh-tah) Carbone is an award winning author of women’s fiction, comedy, and romance. She and her husband live in New Hampshire, where she spends her days walking, eating chocolate and dreaming up stories.

Books and Stories by Ute Carbone:

Blueberry Truth

The P-Town Queen


Searching for Superman

Sweet Lenora

The Lilac Hour

To The Wind

Dancing in the White Room

All Things Returned

Confessions of the Sausage Queen

The Whisper of Time

For more about Ute and her books, Please Visit:

Web page: http://www.utecarbone.com/

Blog http://www.utecarbone.com/inside-the-writers-garret

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ute-Carbone/234417796596443

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Wildwords2

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5114798.Ute_Carbone

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Ute-Carbone/e/B005G7U8RM/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/utecarbone/

Love Stories (available daily via Paper Li): http://paper.li/Wildwords2/1355247882?utm_source=subscription&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=paper_sub#



Monday Mayhem – Manuscript edition

This weekend, I gave the newly revised and expanded version of Full Court Press a complete run-through. When I started, it looked like this:


When I finished, it looked more like this:


The best part? 95,564 words later, I can honestly say I still love this story. I just hope my agent likes the changes and additions I’ve made. I’m about to send it back to her. Cross your fingers!




Teaser Tuesday – Evelyn Jules

Hellooooo, all you beautiful people! I’m so happy to be here today on this lovely blog. Kudos on the makeover, Mags. Seriously. When Maggie mentioned she was hosting guest spots every Tuesday, I jumped at the chance to be a part of it, because, well, I’m nothing if not a promo whore. And Mags, God bless her, booked me for this date. It may not be significant to you, but I have a secret love affair happening with the number 12. It all stems back to my days as a provincial-level soccer player who earned the nickname ‘The Animal’. I’m rough and proud of it.


Speaking of dates, anyone ever tried online dating? How about Online Mating? Not sure what that is? Well, perhaps my current work in progress can shed some light on the subject….


Here’s the blurb: After joining a sexual compatibility site, Sydney finds herself at a coffee shop awaiting her first date. When bachelor number one makes a bizarre and slightly alarming entrance, will she stick to Plan A or choose the sympathetic stranger?


And here’s an excerpt: 

He tore his mouth from her, his chest heaving. “Syd.”

“Is that a horn in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

Dimples flashed as the grin on his face stretched. “I am the happiest man on the planet right now.”

Okay, when the guy said stuff like that, he made it nearly impossible not to fall for him. “I can’t believe you’re the same guy who walked into the coffee shop.”

“Miss the grease paint?”

“A little.”

“Does that scare you or turn you on?”

“Combo of the two.”

Charlie’s eyes danced with mirth, but he never laughed. Instead, he seemed more focused, more determined to tip the scale toward arousal. He planted one foot between hers and took her mouth again. His large palm cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair, dragging her closer for every drugging sweep of his tongue.

They could do it right here in the parking lot. Desperate? Maybe a little. Undignified? Oh, they’d passed that point a long time ago, right around the moment she actually considered letting the man get her off in the middle of a restaurant.

Feeding off the sexual energy humming through her veins, she dove for the buttons on his shirt. Of course he wore an undershirt. In her mind, there was a well-deserved “S” emblazoned on the front of it. This man might not be able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, but he was most definitely made of steel.

“God, you feel so good,” she whispered, slipping her hands under the thin cotton, feeling his abs contract beneath her palms.


Ever wondered what it was like to get it on with a clown? No? Just me? Well, if you’re even a little clown-curious, be sure to check out Online Mating, a reader-vote story on SilkWords’ interactive site! You get to have a say in how the story turns out so be sure to vote! 

Thanks so much to Mags for hosting me! Wishing everyone a fantastically fabulous day! 🙂

If you’d like to get to know me better and be friends and stuff, you can find me at the following locations:

Evelyn Jules small

My blog: http://evelynjules.blogspot.ca/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/EvelynJules

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EvelynJules


And here’s a link to my Amazon page filled with all my published titles: http://www.amazon.com/Evelyn-Jules/e/B008QP0PPG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1




Monday Mayhem – Calling The Count

I’m on the road today, but that’s okay, because I had an awesome weekend. The revisions/additions to Full Court Press have been written and mailed off to my beautiful Jewels for raking over the coals.

It didn’t start out so great. Friday night, my man and I ate steak. That was the highlight. Turns out, the steak was all a ruse to trick me into going to Home Depot and WalMart. We didn’t get home until late, so my productivity was low for the evening.

I made up for lost time by kicking some serious writing butt on Saturday and Sunday, though.

First, I hooked up with Parker Kincaid for pastries and pantsing at Panera. I am hooked on the almond-honey steel cut oatmeal with quiona. There may have been a bagel consumed as well, but that doesn’t sound as virtuous, so we won’t discuss it. I managed to crank out over 1k despite the fact that there was a super jock nutrition and fitness guru giving a mom of two the hard sell at the table behind us. So annoying.

Then I spent the afternoon updating the site, adding the new cover art for Going Deep, and preparing posts for the blog. In other words – procrastinating. Hey, did you see the cover? It’s perfect, abso-fricking-lutely perfect for Brooke and Brian’s story and I’m so excited about it!

GOING DEEP_Lyrical_jpg


I managed to bluff my way through to Outlander time, but after I was back at the keyboard and closing in on the end.

Sunday morning, my man delivered a special Mother’s Day Sonic Diet Coke to my bedside, then made me buttered toast. Amped up, I managed to make it through the penultimate scene before it was time to clean up and head out to see The Avengers: The Age of Ultron!

Two buckets of popcorn and a half box of Sno Caps later, I was home and ready to hit the finish line.

And I did!

So I am off to Texas again, today, but at least I checked one thing off my list. Wait. I posted this, that’s two! Oh! And all the updates I did on Saturday…Three! Three things off my list! Where’s The Count when you need him?

How about you? Did you check any items off your list this weekend?



Teaser Tuesday – Sandra Jones



Earned respect is sweet…but deserved revenge is sweeter.

Warren de Tracy was assured the Welsh village of Dinefwr would be an easy conquest, as would the widow of its fallen prince. Wedding her will appease the locals and win the respect of his liege, the usurper King Stephen.

Instead, Warren is ambushed, taken prisoner by a hooded Welshwoman with skin that glows like moonlight. If he must die at her hands, at least his honorable death will silence the whispers of disloyalty hanging over his name.

Princess Eleri has never seen a knight as stoic—and as eager to die—as Warren. She’d love to oblige the bastard, but something in his ocean-blue eyes stays her hand. Plus, suspicion nags at her, for the arrows that wounded him and killed his men are Norman, not Welsh.

A ghostly prophecy portends danger that thrusts the enemies closer together, where hate explodes into passion that won’t allow Eleri to surrender Warren to her vengeful clan. But returning him to his king breaks more than it mends…and for Warren, retaliation will be sweet, indeed.

Product Warnings

Contains a Norman warrior with a thirst for justice, a Welsh rebel princess with second sight and a steady bow hand, magical prophecies, and a plot of royal proportions.




“‘Your Highness’?” Warren jerked in astonishment, pulling against his bonds. The ropes chafed his raw skin, sending a fresh wave of pain down his arms. “You’re of royal blood?”

She leaned over him, reaching for his bonds. “Hush! In addition to your arrow wound, I trow your tongue has healed as well these past days. It would behoove you to use it less and just be grateful you’re alive.”

Her breasts hovered inches above his face. In fact, if he lifted his head, he could bury his face between them. What would she do, this spirited wench, if he chose to do so? He would’ve enjoyed finding out if circumstances had been different. “I’d rather be dead than be a prisoner. But first…I’ll kiss your feet if you’d scratch my nose.”

She made a choking noise in her throat that almost sounded like amusement.

He felt a tug at his ropes and the friction of a knife. By the saints, she was freeing him. He couldn’t allow it.

Air stung his raw skin as soon as one of his wrists came loose. With his one arm still useless in its restraints, he shot out his free hand and clutched her forearm. Using all his strength, he turned her over beneath him, wedging her between his torso and the bed. Nose to nose, he could make out her eyes gone wide with shock in the darkness. “No!” he growled. “Do not let me leave here alive.”

Suddenly, her warrior was upon him and his knife back against Warren’s throat. “Get off the princess, you cur!”

The woman’s blade touched his chest plate. She could dispatch him with ease. Her arms were strong and lean. Her body was far from frail, and he recalled her skillful defeat of his conroi. She twisted beneath his pelvis defensively, and the grinding of her soft mound awoke his sex. Shame heated his cheeks at his sudden need and dark desires. This one time, he would allow himself to speak his mind. “If you release me, Princess, I’ll go to Kidwelly and inform my commanders what has befallen my five men at the hands of you and your people. The king will strike at the subjects of Cantref Mawr with vengeance such as you’ve never known.”

Her expression shifted from stark panic to slow derision as her saucy lips curved up at one corner. “You think I don’t know what you’re capable of?” Her eyes flashed downward meaningfully, and he knew she’d noted the turn of his wicked thoughts. “You want to have your way with me. To tear my clothing from my body and part my legs. But you know nothing of my people, Norman. You haven’t even bothered to learn the language—” she broke off, slurring in Welsh at her vassal.

The burly guard grabbed Warren’s bandaged shoulder, twisting it back until bile climbed in his throat. “Umpff!” While he convulsed in pain, the woman slipped loose and turned him on his back, pinning his groin beneath two very sharp knees. He hissed through his teeth, “Par les saints!”

If he’d been successful in his mission, this devil-wench would’ve been his bride?

“You are my prisoner, knight.” She planted the flat of her hand against his neck, leaving no doubt of her desire for domination as her angry pulse drummed against his skin. “I am the Princess of Deheubarth, widow of Prince Owain ap Daffyd, murdered by your Norman peers. It will be my pleasure keeping you alive. We’re taking you to those who will do with you what they will. I care not. Until then, you are my dog. My captive. My slave. And you will obey!”





Buy Links: (Samhain store) https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5407/his-captive-princess

(Amazon) http://www.amazon.com/His-Captive-Princess-Sandra-Jones-ebook/dp/B00TLIGB14/

(Barnes & Noble) http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/his-captive-princess-sandra-jones/1121228851?ean=9781619224452

(All Romance) https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-hiscaptiveprincess-1748538-161.html



About the Author


Sandra proudly considers herself a history geek. She is the author of five historical romances including the new River Rogues series set in frontier America. When not researching or writing, she enjoys traveling, genealogy (she’s the direct descendant of a Norman knight) and watching British TV. She and her husband of twenty-five years live in a cabin with two spoiled cats and occasionally attend Renaissance fairs.


She also loves chatting with readers. You can connect with Sandra at any of the following links:


Author Links

Website: http://www.sandrajonesromance.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sandra-Jones-Author/428923117143918

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SJonesRomance

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/SandraJones






Monday Mayhem – family time edition

I was away this weekend, helping to celebrate the nuptials of my niece, Emilie and her ever-patient fiance, Nick. 🙂

em and nick2

While I was there, I got to spend some time with my mommy, my siblings, nieces and nephews, and got to meet my newest great-nephew, Colin.


I am a smitten kitten. Almost  as much of a goner as his great-grandma.

GG and Colin

Most important of all, after the official festivities ended, my sister and I made sure that they bride made it to Joe’s Pub on time. Because that’s what good aunts do.


Bracket those fun times with nine hours in the car each way and you have my weekend in a nutshell. What about you? Did you do anything fun?