Book Tour for Love Tools by Isobel Reed (GIVEAWAY)…

Opposites attract in this tale of a big city gal, and the sexy cowboy, whose banter lights up the pages in a small town romance that will have you breathlessly counting down the days until this book hits shelves on December 6th.  Keep reading to get a tempting taste of Love Tools by Isobel Reed, along with learning more about the author, then get even more info about this book by visiting the other sites hosting this tour.  In honor of this first installment in the Bluestone series make sure to fill out the form below for the chance to win a $50 bookstore GC too!

What kind of writer am I? by Isobel Reed.....

Hmm. I’m going to go ahead and say messy. I’m a messy writer. As organized as I try to be in my day-to-day life, all that goes out the window when I’m writing.

I have a nice, civilized desk and desk chair that I spent a small fortune on. Well, not a small fortune, but you know, I spent money that could have gone on books or pizza on them. But do I use it to write my books? I think you can see where this is going. No. Not really. Not as often as I should anyway. I sit on my sofa, or more like twist myself into a pretzel on my sofa with my laptop and write love stories.

Sofa slouching could be forgiven if I had some sort of sensible writing structure. Again, I think you know where I’m going with this. There is no structure. It’s just chaos. Absolute freaking mayhem.

I see all my lovely author friends post pretty pictures on their social media accounts of their writing process. There are lots of daily writing goals, storyboards, and fancy plotting processes. I’ve even seen a scary picture of a huge whiteboard featuring detailed planning schedules. I am not this person. I am the person who lies awake at night talking to imaginary characters in my head. I’m the person waking her husband up at 3am to write a scene on my phone before I forget it. I’m also the person who has no idea how the story I’m writing is going to play out until I’m in the middle of it.

The same havoc happens when it comes to word counts. Some days I can sit and write 4,000 words, other days it’s like my brain has malfunctioned and I don’t write anything. I’m still waiting for the day I wake up a beautiful, well-adjusted, organizational goddess. I’ll create color coded schedules, buy a whiteboard, and actually check my calendar every day.

When city girl Lily shows up in Bluestone County, cocky cowboy Jake reckons it won’t be long until she hightails it back to London. It didn’t matter that his heart rate spiked whenever she was nearby. Or that he couldn’t get her out of his head. Because Jake was the king of casual and Lily was apparently the queen of picking the wrong men.

EXCERPT:

“You about done checking me out darlin’ or do ya want me to turn around and show you the back?” Her face flamed as her eyes flicked back up to his face and she caught sight of his cocky grin. Before she could attempt to deny what she’d been doing, his expression turned more serious as he took his turn running his eyes up and down her. “I didn’t know Matt had a daughter.”
Surprise, surprise.
“No s***. He wasn’t exactly father of the year.”
Lily couldn’t help but think of the irony. Her father had become friends with some guy young enough to be his son, yet he still couldn’t quite be bothered to pick up the phone and call his own daughter.
His smile became crooked as his glare intensified. “You always swear like a trucker, darlin’? Here, I thought English women were all class and manners.”
Is he being serious?
Letting out a huff, she couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy, “I’m sorry, have I stepped into the past? Are you gonna ask me why a little woman like me isn’t married next?”
“Alright sweetheart, calm down.” He sniggered, clearly amused by the steam coming out of her ears.
Stepping closer to him, she tilted her head up to meet his gaze. “I’m not or will I ever be your sweetheart. Now if you don’t mind, you need to get the hell out of my store before I call the police."

FIND AT GOODREADS here.

BUY LINKS:  AMAZON  |  KOBO  |  BN  |  iBOOKS

AUTHOR INFO:

Isobel was born and raised in London. She still lives along the River Thames with her husband and her substantial book collection. Ever the hopeless romantic, she fell in love with the genre from a young age and was inspired to write her own stories. When she's not feasting on romantic comedies or binge reading her hoard of contemporary romance novels, Isobel is writing.

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Book Tour for Irresistible by Darcy Burke (GIVEAWAY)…..

A young woman uninterested in marriage finds herself in a fake marriage so she can use her brain for a bit of adventure in service to her country.  Love is the last thing she expects though in this Regency romance of opposites attracting.  Keep reading to get a tempting taste of Irresistible by Darcy Burke, hear from the author about the difference between historical and contemporary romances, then learn even more about this book by visiting the other sites hosting this tour.  In honor of this sixth installment in The Phoenix Club series make sure to fill out the form below for the chance to win a $50 bookstore GC too!

Words of Wisdom from Ms. Burke About Writing Regency vs. Contemporary....

You may not know that I’ve also written two contemporary romance series. Set in small-town wine country Oregon, both series are set in the same town/world and are really a saga of two families. I hadn’t ever planned to write contemporary romance (historical is my first love and was all I read through my teens and twenties), but one very cold night during a writing retreat when we had no heat in our rental house, the idea for the series came to me rather fully formed.

People often ask me if it’s hard to write in two time periods. I would say yes if I was trying to write them at the same time, which I definitely do not, lol. But then, I have trouble writing two things at the same time, regardless of time period. I think some people assume contemporary is easier, that it requires less research. To this I say: not really! Contemporary romance requires just as much research, depending on what you’re writing about. I wrote about a family who owned brewpubs. So I went to a local brewpub and got a 1-1 tour on how they make beer (it’s actually the local chain on which my fictional brewpub chain is based so that was fun). Then when I had a character who wanted to stray from the family business (gasp!) and make wine, I went on a personal tour of a winery. (This included an amazing harvest lunch as it was harvest time—lucky me!) It was so great to ask questions, especially since I was able to meet with the woman who’d actually started the winery, which is what my characters would be doing. I needed to know more than just how to make wine. I will admit this sort of research was easier to complete because it’s right next door for me. It’s harder for me to tour, say, Regency England, so I rely on books and the good ol’ internet for building my historical worlds.

Whether I am writing romance set in the Regency period or in the present day, world-building is the most important part. Research and imagination are key—for me—in doing that. A great world is one I am reluctant to leave and that I look forward to visiting again and again. This includes not just the settings and surroundings, but the characters. Sometimes, I create secondary characters with backstories that are just as deep and complete as my main characters!

Jessamine Goodfellow has spent six Seasons avoiding the parson’s trap, and spinsterhood is finally within her grasp. A brilliant scholar, she longs for adventure and new experiences, things her family frowns upon. Presented with the opportunity to use her puzzle-solving talent on a secret mission for the Foreign Office, Jess eagerly accepts. Even when it means posing as the wife of a scorchingly attractive Scotsman who she must also covertly investigate as a possible double agent.

Lord Dougal MacNair, the new Viscount Fallin, has always completed his assignments for the Foreign Office alone. Now he’s saddled with an overly enthusiastic amateur partner. She possesses a remarkable intellect, but something about her isn’t quite right, and after two failed missions, Dougal is certain someone is working against him. Battling their secret suspicions, Dougal and Jess dive deep into their cover as a married couple, which arouses temptations they find irresistible. Danger is all around them, but it’s their hearts that may be the most imperiled.

EXCERPT:

“Have you ever given up on a cryptogram?”

“No.”
“And I imagine some of them weren’t easy.”

She exhaled. “No, they were not.”
“I assumed as much. I know you, Jess, and you’re tenacious.”
“We haven’t even known each other a fortnight,” she scoffed. “Not officially anyway.”
“What does that mean, ‘officially’?”
She took a generous drink of brandy. “We have met before. Four years ago. I remember it distinctly.”
“Four years ago?” Damn, now he felt terrible. “How can you be sure?”
She gave him a haughty look of certainty that quite frankly pricked his desire. “Because I am. You asked me to dance at the Edgemont Ball.”
He’d danced with her. Four years ago. And never again. Worse, he didn’t remember it. He was an absolute cad. “I should have remembered you. I can’t imagine why I didn’t.” he said softly.
Sentiment, which he preferred to indulge in small, manageable doses, threatened to send him to her chair, to take her hand and beg her forgiveness. A husband would do that. A lover. He was neither and since they were alone, there was no reason to continue the pretense. Only, he was fairly certain he was no longer pretending.

BUY LINKS:  AMAZON  |  BN  |  iBOOKS  |  KOBO

AUTHOR INFO:

Darcy Burke is the USA Today Bestselling Author of sexy, emotional historical and contemporary romance. Darcy wrote her first book at age 11, a happily ever after about a swan addicted to magic and the female swan who loved him, with exceedingly poor illustrations. Click here to Join her Reader Club.
A native Oregonian, Darcy lives on the edge of wine country with her guitar-strumming husband, artist daughter, and imaginative son who will almost certainly out-write her one day (that may be tomorrow).
They’re a crazy cat family with two Bengal cats, a small, fame-seeking cat named after a fruit, an older rescue Maine Coon with attitude to spare, and a collection of neighbor cats who hang out on the deck and occasionally venture inside. You can find Darcy at a winery, in her comfy writing chair, or binge-watching TV with the family.
Her happy places are Disneyland, Labor Day weekend at the Gorge, Denmark, and anywhere in the UK—so long as her family is there too.

WEBSITE  |  NEWSLETTER  |  FACEBOOK AUTHOR PAGE  |  FACEBOOK READER GROUP  |  INSTAGRAM  |  TWITTER  |  BOOKBUB  |  GOODREADS AUTHOR PAGE

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Book Tour for Skate Cute by Melissa J. Roche (Guest Post & GIVEAWAY)……

A young woman who couldn't wait to leave her small town is back, attracting the attention of the boy who once loved her from afar, along with someone looking to harm her in this delightful contemporary romance.  Keep reading to get a tempting taste of Skate Cute by Melissa J. Roche, hear from the author about small town romances, then learn even more about this book by visiting the other sites hosting this tour.  In honor of this charming romance make sure to fill out the form below for the chance to win a digital copy of this book and a $25 bookstore GC too!

Words of Wisdom from Ms. Roche talking about why she thinks readers are drawn to small town romances.....

Great question! I’d better start with a disclaimer: I currently live in a small town, one that I happen to have fallen in love with. I love the big trees lining the roads in Old Town; I love the local, women-owned bookstore coffee shop across the street from the homemade children’s museum; I love the splash pad with the ice cream shop hovering nearby. And more than that, I love that whenever I visit all of the above, I inevitably run into people that I know.

It’s the people that make the small town, and thus it’s the characters that make a good small town romance. Small towns grow quirky characters like beans in a backyard garden. Writers love to write (and readers love to read) these characters, to watch them come alive with a simple touch of imagination. And small towns tend to mix and mingle everybody together in the most charming ways: senior pickleball tournaments on Saturdays, karaoke nights at the diner downtown, oatmeal festivals and peach festivals and Gus Macker festivals and tulip festivals...

Then there’s the appeal to the five senses. We love to read small town romances because we’ve all been to or through small towns, and we can almost feel, taste, and see the story unfold against our senses. You can see the grizzled regulars huddled at their table in the back of the diner; you can hear the drawl of conversation that knows it doesn’t have to hurry; you can smell the sun on grassy fields that never were or will be parking lots. It doesn’t matter if you’ve put down roots or just passed through, we all can relate to the appeal of small towns to the five senses.

The last reason I love small town romances? Series potential. Of course I’m going to read the next book in the series if it promises to highlight those two firecracker side characters with the sizzling love-to-hate-you relationship I couldn’t get enough of in the first. And of course the next book in my Sacreola Sweethearts series stars Chase’s mom Angie, the single, 50-something, romance author who falls for Ben, the widowed, 50-something owner of the bookstore coffee shop where she loves to sit and write her novels. Small town characters tend to leap off the pages, larger than life, teasing me with more story to tell. Who am I to say no?

Kriss heads home to her small prairie town with 98% of an astrophysics PhD, a load of memories she’d rather not think about, and a survival plan: skate and graduate. Her plan doesn’t include the attention of a familiar admirer from the nearby fire station, one with an impressive physique, a hidden singing talent, and a smile dazzling enough to sweep her off her skates. Before she knows it, she’s falling for him—hard.

Chase has settled into the rhythms of his small-town firefighter routine, but he remembers Kriss from high school: the starry-eyed skater girl on her way out the door of his life. Now she’s back, just as gorgeous as ever, spinning around the next-door rink without a care in the world. Or so he thinks, until Kriss is targeted with mysterious acts of vandalism designed to derail her dreams. Can he help Kriss find the courage to stand up under the attacks and trust herself to love again?

EXCERPT:

The door on the south side of the rink banged against the wall, the noise jerking Kriss out of her emotional puddle. Her eyes flung open and her body surged upward, her head jerking toward the sound and the intruder. Crap, someone from the skate park must have thought the rink was empty and come over to goof off—
But it wasn’t a skater. It was a dude in jogging shorts and a dark navy-blue T-shirt with a fire department logo on the front, one earbud dangling against his collar.
Kriss met his wide eyes for exactly one shocked microsecond before dropping her head in embarrassment.
“Oh...I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I thought you were...Um. Are you okay?”
She nodded, hastily swiping at her cheeks. But it was too late; he had to have seen the tears already. “Sorry, no, I’m fine. I just...felt like lying down.”
She stole another quick glance at him. He was nodding sheepishly, his arm raised to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck. A detached corner of her mind noted that his face looked familiar from somewhere. Another very, very detached corner of her mind noted the way his T-shirt stretched over his upper arms with the motion.
“Well, um, glad you’re okay,” he said, his chest bouncing with a hasty chuckle. His voice wasn’t what she was expecting. It was deep, but not too deep, and definitely more...smooth, or something. Maybe resonant was the right word.

BUY FOR 99 CENTS AT AMAZON here.

AUTHOR INFO:

Melissa received her first pair of black-and-hot-pink inline skates in fourth grade, a couple of years before she swore her life to the study of the stars (in a fit of sci-fi inspired passion). Two decades later, she has acquired several larger pairs of skates and an astronomy PhD, both of which tend to slip out from under her at the most inopportune moments. She enjoys skating and singing at the neighborhood rink in her small town in Colorado, where she lives with her husband, two boys, and a cozy lap cat. Only one of which is allowed to read her writing over her shoulder.

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Book Tour for Thumb Fire Desire by Carol Nickles (GIVEAWAY)…..

Fans of historical romances have reason to celebrate with the release of this tale of two people brought together amidst the weight of history putting their burgeoning attraction to the test.  Keep reading to get a tempting taste of Thumb Fire Desire by Carol Nickles, then learn even more about this book by visiting the other sites hosting this tour.  You'll also hear from the author talk about romanticizing historical events to pull readers into the action.  In honor of this emotionally engaging romance make sure to fill out the form below for the chance to win a $50 bookstore GC too!

Words of Wisdom from Ms. Nickles…

I pulled my hair off the back of my neck. The long braid, wetted during my morning first swim at the campus center pool hung wet against the back of my sweatshirt. My shoulders scrunched involuntarily. My teeth chattered. I rubbed my hands together and reached to unfold a wooden seat in the cavernous lecture hall. I pulled a notebook from my backpack and read the label. Michigan History. I opened the notebook and fumbled for a pencil.

Professor Brown walked on stage, paused his elegantly dressed persona, and turned in a circle. From the top of his head to his wing-tip-clad feet, he quivered. He moved as if in the spell of the last refrain of Do the hokey pokey, you know, where you shake your whole self?

He faced stage left. He stood straight and tall, then bent in the form of a gunslinger. He shoved his hand over a pretend gun holster. He spoke to a character only he could see.

“Two Stickney?”

Professor Brown flipped to stage right and burst through an imaginary door as a changed man. “Who’s askin’?” he snarled in a slurred voice.

Professor Brown switched again and responded in the authoritative voice. “Joseph Wood, Deputy Sheriff of Monroe County, Michigan Territory here to arrest you for your actions in the Toledo War.”

“The hell you are!” The Two character screamed. He reached in his pants pocket, pulled forth a pocket knife, and stabbed Deputy Sheriff Wood in the thigh. Note: This scene required fast footwork for Professor Brown!

Professor Brown turned to face the class. “And that students, is a reenactment of the sole blood-shedding incident in the entire conflict of the Toledo War.”

I don’t remember all the details of the short-lived Toledo War, but what I do remember is the manner in which it was presented. Professor White brought history alive in the mannerisms of the characters—their speech patterns, their unique movements, and their interaction.

Love is the ingredient in Romance. What do you, the author, have in your bag of tricks to reel the reader in?

When you experience love, your senses are heightened. So your in-love character love sees the sky as a brighter blue. He smells the rain-soaked forest with the loose lungs of a beloved. He feels the warmth of the saddle soak into his thighs. His ears are open to the ten-note trill of a robin.

By weaving emotionally charged connections throughout an historical terrain, you will be creating a story that holds your reader captive.

In the Spring of 1881, indigent seamstress Ginny Dahlke arrives in one of the earliest Polish American settlements-Parisville, Michigan. Deemed charmless and awkward by her mean-spirited sister-in-law, Ginny disparages her chance of securing love. But sought-after widowed farmer Peter Nickles is enamored by Ginny's perseverance, her pioneer spirit, and her inclusive acceptance of the indigenous peoples of Michigan. The seductiveness of a buxom heiress, a twisted story of an old-country betrothal, and the largest natural disaster in Michigan's history-The Great Thumb Fire of September 5, 1881, challenge their fledgling attraction and ultimate committal.

EXCERPT:

Peter sat atop the hay bale. Joseph’s shadow grew deeper and then faded away. For the first time, he and Ginny were alone—if he didn’t count a barn full of bawling sheep, milk cows dunking their heads in feed pails, Buster and Blue lazily flicking their tails, and slinky cats prowling the hay. His breathing came ragged. His chest puffed. He bent at the knees, shoved his hands under the bulk of shorn fleece, slowly aligned his spine, turned toward Ginny, and lost sensation in his arms. He dropped the pile, scattering barn dust and errant wool strands.
She stood idle. The sunshine pouring through the slats on the barn’s east side outlined her silhouette. The soft hollow in her neck swelled and emptied. A clothesline, bare for the warped wooden pins straddling it, swayed between its oak tree moorings behind her. She lifted the tray, set Joseph’s glass on it, and held her hand for his drink.
“I’ll wash your shirt. Sorry I spoiled it.” She leveled her gaze to his.
He turned the glass in his hand. A single mint leaf stuck to the bottom. He fished it out with a finger and rolled the bumpy foliage in his palm, releasing its scent. He rubbed the leaf on his wrist and opened his mouth. He bit into the sprig, savored the fresh prickly taste, and swished it around his gums and teeth. He swallowed.

AUTHOR INFO:

Carol Nickles is the sixth generation of a German textile aficionado family. In 1881, her great- great-great-grandfather founded Yale Woolen Mill—the longest-lasting of Michigan’s once twenty-nine woolen mills. Carol earned a Master’s degree in Historic Clothing & Textiles at Michigan State University. Her thesis is a narrative of the Yale Woolen Mill. She held faculty positions at both Utah and Michigan State universities. She lives in West Michigan and enjoys spinning a tale, weaving a story, and threading a luring hook.

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Book Tour for My Dearest Miss Fairfax by Jeanette Watts (Guest Post & GIVEAWAY)………

Readers will find themselves charmed by this historical romance of a woman dreading becoming a governess and the secretive plan she has that will keep you on the edge of your seat.  Keep reading to get a tempting taste of My Dearest Miss Fairfax by Jeanette Watts, and learn more about the historical romance genre through the question I posed to the author, then stop by to learn even more about this book by visiting the other sites hosting this tour.  In honor of this Austenesque story make sure to fill out the form below for the chance to win a handmade tea cozy too!

My question for Ms. Watts....In your opinion, what draws readers to the romance genre and how has this fueled the success of shows like “Bridgerton“?

JW:  I would love to see a graph that charts the rise and fall of romance sales at the same time as the rise and fall of socio-economic stability! This a purely unscientific, unquantified opinion of my own with no research to back it, but I bet one of the most significant contributing factors to romances is the need for some escapism.

Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers musicals were very popular in the 1930s in the middle of the Great Depression, and their movies NEVER talk about hard times and bread lines. Today, here we are with political upheaval, looming catastrophic climate change, an economy that is supposed to be strong, but most people are working three part time jobs with no benefits to try and keep a roof over their heads, and healthcare is crumbling away to a distant memory of when a doctor spent half an hour in the exam room with you, and there’s a war halfway across the world that has everyone watching – and painting things in their front yards yellow and blue. Let’s face it: it’s terrifying.

What are we supposed to do to try and make the world a better place, much less better our own lives and the lives of those immediately around us? We all do what little things we can that are under our control, but after that, we can feel a bit helpless. Like people in the Great Depression. So we can either escape into drugs or alcohol or other self-destructive things, or we can find a happy place. For many of us, reading is our happy place, and for huge, huge numbers of us, we specifically like reading romances.

What could possibly be happier than a romance? There’s a reassuring solidity to the social rules of times past. There’s something endlessly delicious about sexual tensions, yet there’s a safety that comes from knowing that, eventually, there will be a satisfying resolution of tensions and a happy ending. Yes, we know that real life doesn’t tend to work out like a romance novel. In real life, the handsome prince, or duke, or other rich guy, doesn’t exist, or he’s a nasty jerk, and by the way, none of us real people will ever be in these situations. That doesn’t matter. This is our happy place and we are living vicariously through heroines who are smarter, or skinnier, or taller, or shorter, or blonder, or darker, than ourselves.

As for the television adaptations of our favorite novels? Let’s face it. It’s fun to look at pretty people. In pretty clothes. Who are cavorting in pretty gardens. Or riding pretty horses. It’s all part of our happy place.

How much would you gamble for true love? Jane Fairfax dreaded her future as a governess. But genteel solitude seemed her fate. Then handsome, charming, rich Frank Churchill asked to marry her – IF his rich aunt agreed. If their secret engagement was discovered, Jane would be ruined. Frank seemed worth the risk; but the stakes got higher when the aunt refused her consent!

EXCERPT:

This was, perhaps, the hardest of all the things Jane had to face in keeping her secret. She wished she could simply tell Mrs Elton to stop looking for a situation for her, because she was not going to be a governess. She would be marrying Mr Frank Churchill, and be helping him take care of Mr and Mrs Churchill, until the time they had their own children to take care of – and find a governess for.
Unable to simply stop Mrs Elton’s intentions of helping by telling her the truth, she had to settle for the same excuses and vagaries she had been using over and over again, assuring her she would not at present commit to any engagements with any families. Mrs Elton refused to respect her wishes, and pressed her for the authorization to write to her sister on the morrow to accept.
Jane was uncomfortably aware that everyone in the party had now stopped talking, in order to listen to them arguing. It was time for a strategic retreat. “We have been sitting here so long, now, our legs are going to get stiff,” she stood up. “Shall we walk?” If Mr Knightley had been a gentleman with any manners, he would have long since interrupted Mrs Elton’s clearly unwelcome advances with a distraction. She appealed to his duties as a host. “Would Mr Knightley do us the honor of showing us the gardens? All the gardens? We can see how extensive and perfectly cared for his strawberry garden is. I should like to see the whole extent of the other gardens.”

AUTHOR INFO:

Jeanette Watts has written three Jane Austen-inpsired novels, two other works of historical fiction, stage melodramas, television commercials, and humorous essays for Kindle Vella.

When she is not writing, she is either dancing, sewing, or walking around in costume at a Renaissance festival talking in a funny accent and offering to find new ladies’ maids for everyone she finds in fashionably-ripped jeans.

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Book Spotlight on Mrs. Rochester’s Ghost by Lindsay Marcott (GIVEAWAY).....

Readers will find themselves entertained by this new look on a beloved classic.  Keep reading to get a tempting taste of Mrs. Rochester’s Ghost by Lindsay Marcott, along with learning about what inspired this book, then add it to your bookshelf.  In honor of this modern twist on a classic, make sure to fill out the form below for the chance to win a $20 Amazon GC as well as a digital copy of this book!

What is it about Jane Eyre that has made it a blockbuster for over a hundred and seventy years? The breathtaking writing, yes. The gripping plot: part Gothic romance, part coming-of-age story. The swooning romance between a rich man and a poor orphan, and the shock of the mad wife secreted in an attic.

But I think most of all it’s the voice of Jane herself: a young woman with an extraordinary sense of her own worth and independence. A voice that was revolutionary in 1847 when Charlotte Brontë published it. At the time, women had little say outside family and home. Their career opportunities outside of marriage were limited to underpaid servants and schoolteachers. Female characters in early Victorian novels were usually portrayed as either sugary too-good-to-be-true angels or fallen women seeking repentance.

Jane is neither. She’s constricted by the society she lives in--she needs to keep a stifling job as a governess or else starve to death—but she makes it clear she’d rather starve than sacrifice her will or stifle her intelligence. As a child, she has a temper and a will, even though she’s punished harshly for it. Later, when her employer, Mr. Rochester, grills her, she responds with strong opinions and engages in spirited debates. And when he tempts her to go live in sin with him in Europe, she escapes through the only means available to her—by running off to the surrounding moors, though it probably means she will die in those wilds. And she will not return to him until she learns he has fundamentally changed, and she can now love him passionately and physically without compromising her true self.

I believe it’s this will and independence of Jane’s that keep modern readers coming back for more (not to mention that throbbing romance!), and these are the same elements that inspire continual adaptations of the story. I had long dreamed of creating modern versions of these characters, because they so thrilled and delighted me and taught me life lessons over many years of my rereading the book. A nervy dream, yes. But also one that presented huge challenges: there are so many elements of the book that just won’t fly in an updated story.

For example: a current-day Jane would not be able to keep her curiosity under wraps about all the strange and spooky things going on in Mr. Rochester’s house. She wouldn’t just accept vague explanations or agree to his request to simply not ask about them. She would be itching to find out more.

Also a sexual relationship outside of marriage is no longer a taboo for most women of today. Jane wouldn’t have to flee that temptation. And of course a modern Mr. Rochester would be able to divorce a mad wife, though no doubt having to pay a heavy alimony for her future care. So that’s no longer even an obstacle.

But lies are always a problem in a relationship. Especially big lies.

A secret bigamist is a pretty big lie.

Being a secret murderer would be an even bigger one.

It was thinking about this that gave me the idea of adapting the book as a modern thriller. One in which Rochester does not have a stashed-away wife—instead he’s suspected of murdering a famous wife who has now disappeared. Jane would have to surreptitiously seek out the truth about him--guilty or not?--before she could give in to falling in love. And when spooky things happened, she would need to confront those as well. She would be risking an enormous amount. Losing the love of her life. And maybe also losing her life.

And so I set about writing a thriller, adding startling new twists, putting in jumps and shivers. The result is Mrs. Rochester’s Ghost. It was a joy to write, and I certainly hope it’s an equal joy to read.

Jane has lost everything: job, mother, relationship, even her home. A friend calls to offer an unusual deal—a cottage above the crashing surf of Big Sur on the estate of his employer, Evan Rochester. In return, Jane will tutor his teenage daughter. She accepts.

But nothing is quite as it seems at the Rochester estate. Though he’s been accused of murdering his glamorous and troubled wife, Evan Rochester insists she drowned herself. Jane is skeptical, but she still finds herself falling for the brilliant and secretive entrepreneur and growing close to his daughter.

And yet her deepening feelings for Evan can’t disguise dark suspicions aroused when a ghostly presence repeatedly appears in the night’s mist and fog. Jane embarks on an intense search for answers and uncovers evidence that soon puts Evan’s innocence into question. She’s determined to discover what really happened that fateful night, but what will the truth cost her?

EXCERPT:

The fog streamed in white scarves and pennants, with a bright half moon playing hide-and-seek among them. I walked briskly down the asphalt drive, Pilot racing figure eights around me. We cut across switchbacks toward the highway. I kept to the gravel shoulder as the grade descended.

A pair of headlights glowered in the mist, then swept swiftly by.

The highway continued to dip. Pilot romped ahead and disappeared from my sight around a curve.

“Pilot!” I heard him barking but couldn’t see him. I quickened my steps.

I found myself in the middle of a dense cloud. Fog gathered in the depression in the road.

“Pilot?” I yelled again. “Where are you?”

Excited yapping. But he was a ghost dog.

The roar of a motorcycle echoed from around the far side of the bend. Through the blanketing cloud, I caught a glimpse of the poodle trotting onto the road.

“Pilot, get back here!” I screamed.

The motorcycle’s headlamp glowed dimly as it appeared on the near side of the bend. Pilot barked with sudden frenzy. The headlamp veered crazily. Pilot darted off the road into the underbrush. A sickening sound of tires skidding out of control on gravel. A shout.

With horror, I watched the motorcycle and rider slam down onto the gravel shoulder.

I ran toward the rider. He was sprawled crookedly next to the bike, but his limbs, encased in black leather and jeans, were moving stiffly. Alive, at least. With a groan, he hoisted himself up onto his elbows.

“Are you okay?” I shined my flashlight on him. He whipped his head. “What the hell are you?”

“Just a person,” I said quickly.

He yanked his goggles down. “For Chrissake. I meant who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Taking a walk.”

“What kind of lunatic goes out for a walk in this kind of fog?”

“Maybe the same kind of lunatic who drives way too fast in it.”

“You call that fast? Christ.” He gingerly gathered himself into a sitting position, then flexed his feet in the heavy boots experimentally. He took off his helmet and shook out a head of rough black curls. A week’s tangle of rough salt-and-pepper beard nearly obscured a wide mouth. The prominent nose might be called stately on a more good-natured face. “What the hell was that creature in the middle of the road?”

“A dog.”

“A dog?”

“A standard poodle. Unclipped.”

He put the helmet back on, then pulled a cell phone from his jacket and squinted at the screen. “Nothing,” he muttered.

“The reception’s kind of iffy around here.”

He flung out an arm. “Help me up, okay?”

I approached him tentatively. He was over six feet and powerfully built. About twice my weight, I guessed. “I’m not sure I can pull you.”

“Yeah, you probably can’t. Stoop down a little.”

God, he’s rude. I did, and he draped his arm around my shoulder, transferring his weight. My knees buckled a little but didn’t give. He began to stand, crumpled slightly, then got his balance and pulled himself up straight.

I suddenly became aware of his intense physicality. The power of his arm and shoulder against my body, the taut spring of the muscles in his chest. As if he sensed what I was feeling, he shook off my support and stood on his own feet.

“At least you can put weight on your feet,” I said. “That’s a good sign.”

“Are you a medical professional?”

“No.”

“Then your opinion doesn’t count for much at the moment.”

Go to hell, was on the tip of my tongue. But the fog’s chill was making me sniffle. It seemed absurd to attempt a stinging retort with a dripping nose. I swiped it surreptitiously with the sleeve of my jacket.

He walked, limping slightly, to the Harley. “This thing’s supposed to take a corner. That’s the main reason I bought it!” He gave the seat a savage kick. Then he hopped on his nonkicking boot and shook a fist as if in defiance of some bully of a god who particularly had it in for him.

I laughed.

He whirled on me. My laughter froze. The look of fury on his face sent a thrill of alarm through me. I edged backward; I felt at that moment he could murder me without compunction and leave my corpse to be devoured by coyotes and bobcats.

But then, to my astonishment, he grinned. “You’re right. I look like an ass.”

Pilot suddenly came crashing out of the underbrush.

“Is that your mutt?”

“Yes. Though, actually, not mine. He’s a recent addition at the place I’m staying.”

He stared at me, a thought dawning. I forced myself to stare back: deep-set eyes, dark as ink. I was about to introduce myself, but he yanked the goggles back over his eyes and stooped to the handlebar of the bike. “Help me get this up. Grab the other bar. You pull and I’ll push.”

“It’s too heavy.”

“I’ll do the heavy lifting. Just do what you can.”

Obstinately, I didn’t move.

“Please,” he added. He made the word sound like an obscenity.

I took a grudging step forward and grabbed hold of the handlebar with both hands. I tugged it toward me as he lifted his side with a grunt. The bike slowly rose upright.

“Hold it steady,” he said.

It felt like it weighed several tons—it took every ounce of my strength to keep my side up as he straddled the seat. He grasped both bars. Engaged the clutch, cursing in pain as he stomped on the pedal. He glanced at me briefly.

And then, sending up a heavy spray of gravel, the Harley roared off into the enveloping fog.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Rochester!” I shouted into the deepening gloom.

AUTHOR INFO:

Lindsay Marcott is the author of The Producer’s Daughter and six previous novels written as Lindsay Maracotta. Her books have been translated into eleven languages and adapted for cable. She also wrote for the Emmy-nominated HBO series The Hitchhiker and co-produced a number of films. She lives on the coast of California. You can contact the author on her website at https://www.lindsaymarcott.com/. 

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Book Tour for The Engagement Gamble by Nancy Fraser (GIVEAWAY).......

What starts out as a fake relationship between the much-sought after town sheriff and the town's female doctor soon becomes all too real in this historical romance.  Keep reading to get a tempting taste The Engagement Gamble by Nancy Fraser, along with hearing from the author about history and women's roles in history, then learn even more about this book by visiting the other sites hosting this tour.  In honor of this third installment in the Love's a Gamble series make sure to fill out the form below for the chance to win a $15 bookstore GC too!

Ms. Fraser is here today to talk about the role of women in the actual historical time period this book is set in and how that influences this book’s storyline.  Take it away Ms. Fraser!

Balancing the heroine’s journey with norms of the post-Civil War era was one of my biggest challenges when writing The Engagement Gamble.

While it definitely wasn’t normal for the time, my heroine Suzanne Martindale, is a physician and trained surgeon. Because the story is the third in the series, my heroines from the previous two books also make an appearance. They are strong, in their own ways, especially Kate from book 1, given she’s actually from the present and traveled back in time and decided to stay.

Felicity, from Book 2, is the expected gently-raised southern belle who has a bit of a defiant streak when she decides to free her rich father’s illegally kept slaves. Encouraged by her new husband and the rest of the McAlister clan, she spreads her wings and ventures into altruistic endeavors.

However, because I was crafting stronger heroines, I had to balance that with the stereotypical and much more frequent women of the time period. The books include the doting mothers trying to marry off their daughters, the daughters enamored of any one of the handsome McAlister men. We have the docile preacher’s wife, and the older townswomen who love to gossip.

I have shopkeepers, female saloon owners (more about her in a later book), café owners. While all are businesswomen, they still adhere to the time period expectations. I knew if I went too far outside the expected, except with my heroines, I’d be courting criticism that the books weren’t realistic.

My greatest accomplishment though in mixing the expectation with strength was with Virginia McAlister, the family matriarch. No one, not even the strong McAlister men, would dare to cross her. She holds her own with bankers and businessmen and anchors the entire family while still retaining her gentile southern upbringing.

Marshal Zack McAlister has made it his mission to protect the good citizens of Greenville, MS. In particular, one very opinionated and independent lady doctor. The only hindrance to his professional obligations are the dozen or so single women vying for his attention.

Suzanne Martindale, M.D., has quickly become a fixture in Greenville since taking over for her semi-retired predecessor. And, like Marshal McAlister, she’s been inundated with unwanted suitors.

When Zack proposes a fake engagement, Suzanne is reluctant at first and claims in order for anyone to believe they’re actually courting and in love, there has to be chemistry between them.

Zack sets out to prove they can easily fool the people of Greenville into believing their ruse. Will his smooth Cajun charm and steamy-hot kisses do the trick? Or, are they destined to be victims of their own charade?

When outside forces threaten the entire McAlister clan, can Zack keep his family, and his faux fiancé, safe? And, will a life-threatening accident show them anything, even love, is possible if you have trust?

~~~

The McAlister family welcomes you back to Mississippi with a third adventure, and maybe a sneak peek at yet another devastating seductive McAlister man!

EXCERPT:

“It’s been quiet around town lately. Not much for a decorated marshal to defend.”

“You trying to get rid of me, Doc?”

“Now why would I do that? If you were to leave, who else would I have to argue with?”

“We don’t argue,” he said, his gaze meeting hers in challenge. “We discuss...heatedly.”

“It only gets ‘heated’ when I’m winning.”

He shook his head and leaned back against the side of the desk. “If you say so, Cher.”

“As to your offer of an escort, I can see myself home, Marshal. There’s no need to wait.”

“I’d feel better if you let me escort you.”

She sighed deeply, and Zack waited for her to launch into another of her ‘independent woman’ speeches. Or, at the very least, remind him that he was being over-protective.

“I’ll only be a minute or two, if you insist on waiting.”

“I insist.”

She could have said she needed another hour and Zack would have gladly stayed. Despite what he’d said to Pete Bailey earlier that evening, Suzanne Martindale was a breath of fresh air among the over-zealous horde of ladies hounding his every move.

She was beautiful, well-educated, independent, and beautiful. Zack shook his head, trying to shake the repeating thought free. Obviously, no matter what her many assets, her beauty was the one thing tying him up in knots. Or, maybe, it was the fact she didn’t use it to her advantage, as some of the other ladies did. Instead, Suzanne relied on her brains and taunting sense of humor to get her where she wanted to go.

“All set,” she said, drawing Zack from his mental inventory of what made Suzanne Martindale the most desirable woman he’d ever met. And, at the same time, not at all what he was looking for in a wife.

Once she’d locked the door to the clinic, Zack offered his arm. Nodding toward the hospital next door, he asked, “Do you need to stop?”

“No, the night nurse is there, and our only patients are the new mother and babe. They’re in good hands.”

They strolled along in comfortable silence until they’d reached the walkway leading to the small stone cottage where Suzanne lived. She stopped just short of the gate.

“Shall I walk you to the door?”

“This is fine, thank you, Marshal.”

“Marshal? I thought we’d agreed on Zack?’

She met his gaze, rolling her eyes for exaggerated emphasis, he supposed. When she shook her head, a small lock of blonde curls fell free of its pins. Zack’s hand itched to take the silky strands in his fingers and tuck them back where they belonged.

“You suggested Zack and Suzanne. I don’t remember agreeing. I’d much prefer Dr. Martindale, or just ‘doc’.”

Her continued attempts at formality amused him and he asked, “Tell me something, Cher, do you ever let your hair down and just relax?” Before she could answer, he added, “Have any of your friends ever been tempted to call you Suzie?”

She paused briefly before saying, “Only those who wished to be soundly kicked in the shins.”

FIND AT GOODREADS here.

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AUTHOR INFO:

NANCY FRASER—Jumping Across Romance Genres with Gleeful Abandon—is an Amazon Top 100 and Award-Winning author who can’t seem to decide which romance genre suits her best. So, she writes them all.

Like most authors, Nancy began writing at an early age, usually on the walls and with crayons or, heaven forbid, permanent markers. Her love of writing often made her the English teacher’s pet which, of course, resulted in a whole lot of teasing. Still, it was worth it.

Nancy has published over thirty-five books in full-length, novella, and short format.

When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.

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