Quotes about love…and where they originated.

“We spend too much time wondering and worrying about what’s expected. What’s proper. What makes sense. Love doesn’t make sense. It just is or it isn’t. And once it is, there’s really nothing left to wonder or worry about.”

That line is from With Whom We Spend Our Lives, a story, for those of you who aren’t familiar with it, spends a great deal of time exploring the age old question…Is love enough?

Is it? The truth is, (and this may shock some, my being a romance writer and all) but I don’t think it is. A theory I’ll save for another day, and another quote.

I chose this one today, because of one line. ‘It just is, or it isn’t.’

Have you ever heard someone say, “I love him/her a lot.”?

I have. And makes me crazy every time. How can you love someone a lot? Can you love someone a little? I can’t.

I can like you a lot. And I can like you a little. But once I crash that threshold over to the love side, that’s it. I love you. Period. That’s the whole point of love, it’s infinite and unconditional. That’s what makes it so special, so hard to find and so important to keep.

That’s also what makes it so simple. Such a basic truth, your heart has no choice but to follow it.

_We spend too much time wondering and worrying about what's expected, what's proper, what makes sense. Love doesn't make sense. It just is or isn't. And once it is, there really isn't anything left to wonder or wor

     He points out at the sand. “I was standing right there when she showed up out of the blue sixteen years ago. I remember because I made a point to look up and make a mental note of the house I was staring at so I could find this exact spot again. I knew, in that moment, even when I didn’t know how it would be possible, that I would be back on this beach, in that same sand, on my knee and asking her to marry me. I’d have done it right then and there if I could have. And I was younger than you. She was younger than Harper.” And I get where he’s going with this. “We spend too much time wondering and worrying about what’s expected. What’s proper. What makes sense. Love doesn’t make sense. It just is or it isn’t. And once it is, there’s really nothing left to wonder or worry about.”

     “We have a spot. Harper and I.” My gaze travels out toward the ocean as I remember it clear as day. “First time I ever kissed her. We were standing under the big magnolia tree in her backyard. It’s the same place I first told her I loved her, too.” I can feel my mouth contorting into a grin so huge it hurts my cheeks. “It’s our tree, you know? We spent hours sitting under it. She even has a picture of us sitting there still hanging in her room. It was my favorite of her. She had this massive flower in her hair that day and she was looking at me in a way that made me want to be someone I knew I wasn’t yet. A way that made me believe I could really be that someone someday.”

      “Think you’re that someone yet?”

      I turn toward him again. “Yeah.”

     “Then what the hell are you waiting for?”


NEW RELEASE **It’s Kinda My Thing**


I feel like I’ve been sitting on this one for AGES!!! Well, that’s what you get when you plan and make time for pre-orders, lol. And while it was a fun experiment, I may not be cut out for this more organized and (probably more efficient) process. I just don’t have the patience for it 😉

So…without pushing myself to hold out any longer….HERE IT IS!!



Once upon a time, Rumor Davis was a sweet girl. You know the kind, sugar and spice and everything nice? That was Rumor. Until the day she met Brody Holmes….

One unhappily ever after later, and Rumor is living in Sin City with a music career at death’s door and all that was sweet and nice thrown out the window. Rumor spends her days delivering singing telegrams and spends her nights enjoying all the party city has to offer, usually in the company of her roommate and best friend, Shaun Penny.

Once upon a time Brody Holmes was a bad, bad boy, collecting the hearts of girls left and right. When he encountered the rarest edition of all, she slipped straight through his fingers.

One near happily ever after later, Brody is standing at the altar with his bride, about to cash out his collection of hearts in exchange for just one, when a familiar voice begins to sing from somewhere in the crowd….

And…it should go without saying at this point…but for the newbies –



I was standing in my closet trying to determine the best thing to wear into battle when I heard a tap on the door and the creak of it opening. A few seconds later, Shaun was leaning against the door frame of my massive walk-in closet, smirking.
“What are you doing?”
I held up two dresses, one in each hand. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
He chuckled. “It looks like you’re about to fuck somebody up. Should I feel bad for him?”
“No. He has it coming, so just stay out of my way.” I threw both dresses into the pile on the floor and went back to searching the racks that lined the walls.
Shaun watched me for a moment. Then, he nodded toward the back corner. “The fuchsia one.”
“The mini kaftan? Really? It’s like an oversized t-shirt.” I pulled it out and eyed it skeptically.
“Trust me. Pair it with a set of your crazy heels and as short as that thing is, he’ll spend all night thinking he caught a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have. It’ll drive him insane.” He winked. “Plus your legs will look killer.” Then he turned to leave again.
“What about my hair? Up or down?” I called after him.
“Down. Straight. And don’t go crazy with the make-up. You don’t need it.” Then my door opened and closed again and he was gone.
“Alright, pink kaftan it is then.” I nodded to myself, confirming what had already been established. “Well, at least I’ll be comfortable.”


“This is a definite best-seller in the making.”

“It was sweet, funny, steamy, full of twists and turns, and took me on one crazy ride with an ending I totally did not see coming.”

“Starting the book with the singing telegram, and that it was her ex, was priceless.”

“Why does K.S. Thomas keep writing me more book boyfriends?”

But don’t take their word for it….find out for yourself 😉






Romancing Christmas: 10 Love Stories to Spice up the Holidays

Multi-author boxed set

Release Date: November 3, 2014

Genre: Holiday Romance

Cover Artist: http://www.bellamediamanagement.com/

~~Blurb~~Do you like your Christmas nice…or a little naughty? Bring the season into your heart with love stories to match your mood. This boxed set from 10 of today’s hottest romance authors will warm your heart even on the coldest night.


~~Purchase Links~~

Join the ROMANCING CHRISTMAS authors for their LAUNCH DAY PARTY! The authors and a slew of their sassy friends will be celebrating the release, November 3rd, 4th, and 5th, 10:30 AM to 10:30 PM (EASTERN TIME).

Prizes Galore, Q&A, Authors, Readers, Books, and FUN! So what are you waiting for? Come join us and have a blast!https://www.facebook.com/events/334906006689968/


Broken Protocols 3.5 by Dale Mayer

When Charmin Marvin wonders when Christmas Day would be in their new time frame, he sets events in motion no one could have expected.

Dani and Charmin lost a lot when they were brought 200 years into the future. But nostalgia brings the possibility of Christmas back into Dani’s life – if she can make it happen.
Levi hates to deny Dani anything, but all holidays were removed from his society by the government decades ago. He has no idea what she’s talking about – and when he does research and finds out – he wonders if something can be done. And someone outside of their small family wonders, too…

Dani has the best of intentions – but creating Christmas in a world that no longer knows what a holiday is makes her life very complicated very quickly.

Website: http://www.dalemayer.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DaleMayer.author
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DaleMayer

Shades of Holly by H. D. Thomson

Do you like murder and mystery with your mistletoe?
Enter Zach Howard, a man who’s finally managed to get his life on track this holiday season, until that is, he comes across a pair of otherworldly sunglasses. They reveal scenes of a terrifying future. Holly, the one woman he’s never stopped loving, is in danger of a psychopath. This time around, he’s determined to fight for Holly, even at the risk of his own life. But even if he manages to save her, can Zach restore her faith in him? He prays that this Christmas miracles and angels do exist.
Season For Love by Chantel Rhondeau

The specter of death tempered by beautiful miracles is all in a day’s work for head nurse Tess Riggs and pediatric specialist Dr. Dash Brisson. But discovering Christmas is the season for love could be their biggest challenge yet.

Website: http://www.chantelrhondeau.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChantelRhondeau
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ChantelRhondeau

Christmas Hope (2013 Golden Heart finalist) by Leslie Lynch 

A one-man landscape business keeps a roof over Sam Bledsoe’s head and food on the table—and keeps his badly scarred face away from curious eyes. Free spirit Becca Sweet is pregnant—and down on her luck. With Christmas and a storm on the way, living in her car is no longer an option. When Sam comes to Becca’s rescue, they discover that Christmas hope applies to all, even to them. Will hope lead to love, the most precious Christmas gift of all?Website: www.leslielynch.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LeslieLynchWrites
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Leslie_Lynch_


A Christmas Miracle (a 2014 Carolyn Reader’s Choice winner) by Sandy Loyd

Megan Jenkins isn’t looking forward to Christmas, a holiday that reminds her of what she had and lost, a husband who died right after Christmas the year before, leaving her a young widow with a fatherless son to raise. During the course of this Christmas Eve, Megan experiences her own Christmas Miracle as she learns the true meaning of giving with the help of Kevin Murdock, a long-time friend who’s always been there for her.Website: www.sandyloyd.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/sloydwrites
Twitter: www.twitter.com/sloydwrites


The Salty Carmel Christmas by Barbara Lohr

Nothing ever changes for Rachel Morgan in Paris, Indiana. And then Eli kisses her. When Rachel returns home for Christmas, she’s not exactly the family success story. The soft-spoken guy with killer blue eyes makes Rachel take a second look. Paris offers her a second chance. Sometimes life can be like a salty Christmas carmel—sweet but with a tang you remember. Sometimes the boy you leave behind is the man you want forever.Website: www.BarbaraLohrAuthor.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/Barbaralohrauthor
Twitter: www.twitter.com/BarbaraJLohr

Heating Up the Holidays by Marcia James

When Chris Spencer returns home with his daughter, he’s not looking for a second chance with his first love. And the last thing Nicky Paxton needs at Christmas time is her high school heart-breaker. But thanks to a hairless dog and a lonely child, they might get their Christmas desires.

Website: www.MarciaJames.net
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarciaJamesAuthor
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Marcia_James

Insanity Claus by Carolyn Hughey

A widow of two years, Mallory Gardner is struggling to keep her business alive and still function in her dysfunctional family. Having two daughters, one of which who blames Mallory for her father’s death is enough to test anyone’s sanity. But when Arden J. Miller waltzes into town, he has other ideas—like capturing Mallory’s heart even though love is the last thing on her mind.
Can two irresistible forces deal with immovable objects, or will the effects of the holiday spirit help resolve issues previously thought to be unsolvable?Website: www.carolynhughey.com
Facebook: http://on.fb.me/YUamEZ
Twitter: www.twitter.com/ScribBLINGDIVA

A Family for Christmas by Tallulah Grace

Erin Matthews returns home to find closure, but she soon discovers truths that change her life forever. Luke Simmons never expected to meet a woman who sparks fire in his soul, even as his heart is breaking. Together, they find healing, and the true spirit of Christmas, in the love of a patchwork family.

A Father for Christmas by Rachelle Ayala
Single mother Kelly Kennedy can’t afford lavish gifts for her four-year-old daughter, Bree. Homeless veteran Tyler Manning doesn’t believe he deserves a Merry Christmas. When Bree asks Santa for a father and picks Tyler, both Tyler and Kelly must believe in the power of love to give Bree her best Christmas ever.

Five things only authors get excited about…

1. Writing the title and author name on the first page of a new project.

What is more exciting than that? Number two…

2. Writing ‘the end.’ on the last page of your most recent project. 

It’s a temporary high, so bask in it for as long as you can, because next you’ll be editing…and no one get’s excited about that.

3. Covers. Oh yeah!! We loooove book covers.

Even when we’re nowhere near finishing a manuscript…we’re looking at book covers. When we find the perfect one, or land the perfect artist…now that’s something to jump up and down about.

4. Re-reading something you wrote and were certain was total shit only to discover it’s actually brilliant.

I’m happy to say, that years of training myself to write daily have helped in overcoming what I will loosely call ‘writer’s block’ (I have issues with the term, mostly because I have issues with the concept, but I’ll save that for another post). Point is, there are those nights when inspiration seems to be lacking and yet you just plow through anyway in hopes of making it through to the other side where you will eventually find ‘the end.’ You do this, knowing full-well that a great deal of what you type out will need re-writing and deleting. Then, when the time comes and you re-read that first draft – ‘Holy shit. When did I write this? This is AMAZING.’ Yeah, that moment. Total awesomeness.

5. Discovering an opportunity for a last minute plot twist.

Those rock. I’m going to throw one at you right now.

6. Hitting publish. 

It’s terrifying. Nerve-wracking. And ‘you may want to puke your guts out’ agonizing. It’s also the most exciting ‘writer’ thing you’ll ever get to do. So do it often!


Romancing Christmas: 10 Love Stories to Spice up the Holidays

Multi-author boxed set
Release Date: November 3, 2014
Genre: Holiday Romance

Cover Artist: http://www.bellamediamanagement.com/


Do you like your Christmas nice…or a little naughty? Bring the season into your heart with love stories to match your mood. This boxed set from 10 of today’s hottest romance authors will warm your heart even on the coldest night.

Just 99 Cents for a limited time!



Join the ROMANCING CHRISTMAS authors for their LAUNCH DAY PARTY! The authors and a slew of their sassy friends will be celebrating the release, November 3rd, 4th, and 5th, 10:30 AM to 10:30 PM (EASTERN TIME).

Prizes Galore, Q&A, Authors, Readers, Books, and FUN! So what are you waiting for? Come join us and have a blast!

~~Novellas included in set~~
USA Today Bestselling Author Dale Mayer ~ Broken Protocols 3.5 
Award-winning author H.D. Thomson ~ Shades of Holly
Chantel Rhondeau ~ Season For Love
Award-winning author Leslie Lynch ~ Christmas Hope
Award-winning author Sandy Loyd A Christmas Miracle
Website: www.sandyloyd.com

Barbara Lohr ~ The Salty Carmel Christmas 

Website: www.BarbaraLohrAuthor.com

Marcia JamesHeating Up the Holidays
Carolyn Hughey ~ Insanity Claus  
Website: www.carolynhughey.com

Tallulah Grace ~ A Family for Christmas 

Website: http://www.tallulahgrace.com

Rachelle Ayala A Father for Christmas

For The Love Of Coffee (and other more important stuff)

When I was a kid, the worst thing that could possibly happen to you, was biting into a nice piece of chocolate only to discover it was coffee flavored.  Mind you, this may be a German thing since I don’t recall this happening to me past the age of ten or so. I’ve switched countries, but I certainly haven’t cut back on my chocolate intake, so I’ll assume the experience is exclusive to the latter. Point being, I thought coffee was about the most vile thing I’d ever tasted.

But, as is often the case with youthful ignorance, I grew out of it.

These days, a good cup of coffee is a one way ticket to my happy place. If I could, I would guzzle it by the gallons (some days…I probably do) but even though the thought of coffee always sounds inviting to me, I’ve learned to practice a little self-control. However, having said that, coffee is an absurd sort of constant in my life.

We joke, we writers, about our love for coffee, but for some it’s really not all that funny.

As much as we would all love to roll out of bed around noon, roam around the house in our robe and pajamas for an hour before settling down at the computer to put in a solid eight hours of quality writing, for most of us, that couldn’t be farther from reality.

We have day jobs. Children. Spouses. Friends and Family…all of which expect us to be present in the ‘REAL’ world for most of the day, the hours regular people deem important. It’s only after the work is done, the children have been put to bed, the Spouses have been sufficiently sedated with prime-time TV, and the friends and family have gone home to do the same, that we can sit down to write. Some nights (okay…pretty much EVERY night), this is well past a time of day that people would consider to be their most productive.

But…We roll with it. And often, we’re night owls anyway…actually, if people wouldn’t insist on our participating in all of that OTHER stuff, these WOULD be our most productive hours of the day. But…alas…we’ve been up already for fourteen plus hours tending to a gazillion other things and needs and our brains are fried. But we need to write. Not because we have deadlines, but because we NEED to write. It’s in us. It MUST come out.


Enter Coffee – a little something I like to call my magic writing potion. Doesn’t matter how loopy I’m feeling at ten o’clock at night. I know once I suck down that over-sized mug of super elixir I’ll be set to go come midnight. And while I may not get in a solid eight hours of writing, I can count on at least two. Maybe four or five if I’m feeling really ballsy (cuz you know this chick has to get up with the dogs and kid come seven a.m.)

And while all of this may seem like a ridiculous topic to some, the underlying message isn’t all that stupid. Because it’s not really about the coffee. It’s about the dream. And what you’re willing to do to make it happen.

I’m willing to drink coffee. A LOT of coffee.

How about you?

Have you had your cup today?

CLAIMING CARLOS by Rachelle Ayala



“Sexy & hilarious foodie romance
— too hot in the kitchen.”
Taming Romeo (Sanchez Sisters Book #1)? Then you know bossy big sister Choco.
See what antics she gets into in Claiming Carlos.
Sanchez is stuck in a rut. She’s never hit a softball and has been friends
forever with Carlos Lopez, the head cook at her family’s Filipino restaurant.
When flashy restaurant consultant Johnny Dee hits her with a pitch, she falls
head over heels and gets a makeover.
Lopez is not about to lose one for the home team. When Johnny launches a full
scale change on the menu, Carlos sends him straight into the dumpster. Claiming
Choco’s heart proves more difficult, especially when her secrets threaten to
doom their love. But never underestimate a man who can cook hot, spicy, and
steamy, and we ain’t talking just food.
love scenes and language. Suitable for readers 18+.

[Cooking Fantasies]


“Explain this.” He kisses beneath my ear, his lips caressing the sensitive spot behind my jaw. He lets go of my neck and his hand wanders down to my waist.

The music pounds out front, and my body relaxes into the heat surrounding me. I close my eyes and inhale his scent. Nothing makes sense. But I can’t think, not when his lips are nibbling my neck and his fingers trailing sparks from my waist to the area between my legs.

I’m helpless in his embrace, and when his fleshy lips tickle the corner of my mouth, I tilt my head toward him. Sparks of excitement pulse in my chest.

Don’t think, Choco. Let it go, for now. It won’t be long. Seize this moment.

I take the last breath of my life and lock onto his lips, tugging his hand to my breasts, willing my recurring dream into reality. I’m trapped in a shiny, deluxe restaurant kitchen with a celebrity chef. He dips his tongue into chocolate whiskey pots de crème and licks the line between my lips. I eagerly sweep the taste from his mouth into mine, sucking the tangy, bittersweet aroma from his breath.

I can’t get enough of it. He’s so much of a man, so hard, strong, edgy, rough. And he’s not complaining, he’s moaning, hands and fingers busy over my stretchy red-hot slut dress.

Book 1:
Rachelle Ayala is an author
of dramatic romantic suspense and humorous, sexy contemporary romances. Her
heroines are feisty and her heroes hot. She writes emotionally challenging
stories but believes in the power of love and hope.
Subscribe to her mailing list
for upcoming books and giveaways.
http://eepurl.com/lR5kv and find her books at online retailers Amazon,
Barnes and Noble, Kobo,
Apple iBookstore, and more.
Fiction: Michal’s Window, Broken Build, Hidden Under Her Heart, Chance for Love
Boxed Set, Knowing Vera, Taming Romeo, Whole Latte Love, Played by Love,
Playing the Rookie, A Father for Christmas, Claiming Carlos
Want to Contact Rachelle?
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THE ART OF LOVE by Michele Shriver

The Art of Love by Michele Shriver
Published on October 21, 2014
Matthews has a simple dream—travel the country on the art fair circuit selling
her hand-crafted jewelry. When her disapproving father refuses to release her
trust fund money to support her ambitions, she takes a part-time job in a campus
gallery. While counting the days until she can be free of its stuffy confines,
an unexpected temptation comes in the form of a sensitive painter.
Hayden Shaw, having his paintings displayed in the finest galleries is the true
measure of an artist’s success. When the pursuit of his goal puts him in
contact with the free-spirited Chelsea, his world is turned upside down.
two seemingly opposite artists find middle ground and discover the art of love,
or will a gallery curator with an agenda of her own undermine both their
Shaw stopped and took a deep breath. Whittier Gallery. The name was etched on
the door, and underneath that, in smaller letters,
Marissa Kincaid, Curator. Was she the woman who would change his life?
A chime sounded as Hayden pulled the door
open and walked inside, a portfolio of his work tucked under his arm. He had a
pitch prepared as to why this particular gallery should feature his art. That
same pitch hadn’t gone over well at the last gallery he visited, but he was
A woman sat behind the desk talking on the
phone and she gestured in his direction that she was almost finished. Not
wanting to eavesdrop, Hayden nodded and wandered in the direction of one of the
displays. It featured oil painted scenes of the Boston Harbor, and he couldn’t
deny the skill of the artist. Did Hayden’s own work belong here? Was he good
No negative thoughts, Shaw,
he chastised himself. Hayden remembered the pep talk his roommate had given him
before he left. He had to be bold and confident.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. Can I help
Hayden turned around to face the woman as
she stepped out from behind the desk. “I hope so. Are you Ms. Kincaid?” As he
studied her face, though, Hayden doubted it. The woman facing him didn’t appear
much older than his own twenty years. He doubted she was old enough to be in
charge of a prestigious art gallery.
She shook her head and tucked a wayward
strand of light brown hair behind her ear. “No. I’m Chelsea Matthews. I just
work here.”
“Hayden Shaw.” He extended his hand. “It’s
nice to meet you.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m a student here at MassArt,” Hayden
said. “I understand you display student work, and I have a portfolio with some
pictures of my paintings—”
“Pictures?” Chelsea interrupted, “or
Hadn’t he made that clear? Hayden tried
again. “I’m painter and I’m interested in having my paintings displayed here. I
do photorealism, so they’re paintings based on photographs. I didn’t want to
lug the originals all the way across campus, so I brought pictures of them.”
“So, pictures of paintings of pictures is
what you’re saying.” Chelsea’s face carried an amused expression, and Hayden
wasn’t sure how to take it. Was she making fun of him, or rather his style? Not
everyone understood or appreciated photorealism. Maybe this gallery wasn’t the
right place after all. Or was she simply trying to joke around? He didn’t
always get people with quirky senses of humor.
“I guess you could say that.” He set the
portfolio on the desk. “Would you like to see them?”
“I could look at them, but it’s not up to
me whether the gallery will showcase your work,” Chelsea said. “Can you leave
this so I can show Marissa?”
“Sure. I can do that.”
“Good. She should be back in a little later,”
she said. “Can I ask you something, though?”
Hayden nodded. “Fire away.”
“Why here?”
He had the speech prepared as to why he
felt this gallery was a good fit, but truthfully it wasn’t much different than
the one he gave at the previous gallery. Besides, he didn’t think that was what
she wanted to hear. “I’m not sure what you mean?”
“I mean what’s the appeal here? What’s so
special about galleries?”
Was she serious? She worked in a gallery,
and she wanted him to tell her what was special about them? “I want people to
see my work.”
“Then why not display it around campus? In
the classroom buildings, stairwells, wherever. People do.”
He knew that. It was impossible to walk
anywhere on the MassArt campus without seeing student artwork on display. While
it made for an interesting environment, seeing paintings in stairwells,
sculptures on the grass and metal works hanging from a tree, Hayden didn’t
quite understand why it was such a popular thing to do. “I want people to be
able to appreciate my work.”
“Who’s to say that the folks walking down
Huntington Avenue can’t appreciate it?”
She had a point, and Hayden was left unsure
how to respond. “It’s not the same.”
“You mean you want someone to appreciate it
by buying it.” Her lips curled up in a smile. “Am I right, Hayden Shaw?”
She was, and Hayden hated how materialistic
she made him sound. He stuck his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and
averted his gaze to the floor.
“Oh please, don’t be embarrassed.” Chelsea
laughed. “Making money is a noble goal. I certainly want to make money from my
“You’re an artist too?” Hayden regarded her
with curiosity. “What kind? Are you a student here?”
“Yes. Jewelry and metalsmithing major.” She
reached up and touched the necklace she wore, holding it out for him to see. “I
made this.”
For the first time, Hayden examined it. It
looked to be made out of Scrabble tiles, spelling out the letters F-R-E-E. Art
was definitely in the eye of the beholder, but he found the necklace oddly
appealing, much like the woman who wore it. “It’s very unique,” he said. “Are
you? Free, that is?”
Mischief danced in her hazel eyes. Pretty
eyes, he decided. Not unlike the rest of her. “It depends on the context in
which you’re asking.”
“A woman of mystery. I like that,” Hayden
said, then wished he could take the words back. The conversation had veered
dangerously close to flirting, which probably wasn’t wise given that he hoped
to have a business relationship with this gallery. “Is your work on display
here?” His eyes scanned the gallery showroom for any cases that might house
She shook her head. “No. Galleries aren’t
my thing, and my work’s not Marissa’s thing.” She shrugged. “I’m hoping to go
on the art fair circuit this summer, after graduation.”
“Art fairs?” Hayden frowned.
“Yeah. You know, like Ann Arbor. Des
Moines. Kansas City.”
Why would anyone pass on a prestigious
gallery in Boston in favor of the capital of Iowa or a city most famous for barbecue?
“Are you from the Midwest?” Hayden asked.
“No. New Hampshire.”
“Then I don’t see a connection,” Hayden
“The cities I just mentioned host some of
the best art fairs in the country,” Chelsea said. “Surely you’ve heard of
them.” She said it as if she expected everyone had.
Hayden shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint
you, but no. Art fairs aren’t really my thing.” He didn’t get the appeal of
traveling to cities in the middle of nowhere, peddling art on the street. “No
offense, but have you considered aiming a little higher?” Okay, so the Scrabble
necklace was kind of strange. Some people liked strange.
The amusement that once reflected in her
eyes faded, and Hayden knew at once that his words had offended her. “No
offense, but have you?” She retorted before turning away from him. “I’ll show
Marissa your pictures when she gets back.”
Buy it for 99 cents!!!
Shriver writes women’s fiction and contemporary romance. Her books feature
flawed-but-likeable characters in real-life settings. She’s not afraid to break
the rules, but never stops believing in happily ever after. In her free time,
Michele enjoys football, hockey and reading a good book written by someone
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/AuthorMichele-Shriver/241190605939040
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WHEN IT RAINS by Prudence Hayes



Buy When It Rains Now @ Amazon.com for $1.99!

Nora is spiraling out of control.

Her memories and demons are united in the war against her.

Memories, deception, evil and pain have forced their way into her life.

Unable to handle it, she is taken to the brink of insanity.

Will she be strong enough to survive?

 photo Promo1_zps5cb44cdb.jpg



Its Raining

I feel as like raindrops have been following me my whole life. Slowly dripping and tiptoeing behind me in myshadow. At other times chasing me at a downpour, drenching me as I try to dodge the wet droplets. The rain has been incorporated in my life during times when earth shattering, life-changing events have happened and enclosed in my dreams; frightening me out of my sleep.

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve hated the rain. Besides the headaches from the pressure in the air and my previously broken bones aching, I also get beaten up by my mental issues.Yes, I have plenty of them. Anxiety fills my veins as the rain begins and doesn’t leave until the clouds part and the sun shines brightly. Sometimes, I catch it too late and that’s when depression kicks in. There’s something about the dreariness of the weather that sets me on a whirlwind mentally. With my shoulders slouched, my mind is dark and I feel incapable of living. The weather infuses itself into my mind and makes it too heavy for me to carry. The weight makes me sag and hang deep below my typical surface and I tend to become stagnant, unwilling to move until I am strong enough to push, yank and tear my way out of it. I won’t leave the house or wherever I am at the moment the showers start and I plead to anyone that will listen to stay put until it ends. An unsettled feeling builds within my heart and I’m afraid that something bad will happen; scared someone will get hurt. Some people understand and others say, to my surprise, that I have major issues. Tell me something I don’t know.

In the small chance that I succumb to the constant whine of others and leave the house while it rains, I carry one of my many umbrellas. I have red ones, blue ones, striped ones and polka dots. I have a lot from when I was a little girl such as my frog one. I’ve collected umbrellas since before I can remember. There’s a picture that I have from Christmas when I was two years old and I’m unwrapping the one with strawberries all over it and in the background of that photo are my frog, rainbow and duck ones leaning against the wall next to the front door. So, this hoarding aspect of my personality must have started before then. My closet is full of them, along with the hallway closet and it has infiltrated the attic, kicking out all the nonsense that Pops keeps. Some are shoved under my bed, the trunk of my car and in boxes in the garage that, once again, evicted Pops’ things. I’m still waiting for the day he freaks out on me as he pulls up in the driveway and passes all his belongings that are sitting on the curb awaiting their final trip to the landfill as I make room for my beloved umbrellas, but he seems to handle it nicely. He practically acts as if he doesn’t notice, so I’ll continue to do it until he has had enough and screams at me. Pops is actually the one that has contributed the most to my umbrella collection. My birthday, Christmas, Hanukkah (and we aren’t even Jewish) and every other holiday you can think of, he hands me a wrapped present in a long odd shape. Once, he bought me one for his birthday. I thought that was a bit odd, but I graciously accepted it, of course.

I believe my Mom and Dad were the culprits in getting this obsession started. There have been many major hissy fits that have occurred due to my insistence that something bad was going to happen and the reaction I had when the moistness hit my skin. So, their solution was those umbrellas. They told me it was my shield, a shield to protect me from the pain and fear I felt. I fell for it. I believed them wholeheartedly. When I had one in my hand covering my body, I felt nothing could hurt me. I was a warrior against the deepest of pains. I can’t even recall the last time a raindrop touched my skin.

When I was younger and at home, I would hide under my bed at the first rap of thunder and wail at the first glimpse of a small wet mark hitting the wood that made the porch. I have been under my bed so often my Dad and I decked it out under there. I had shelving for my books, pictures hanging from the rails, stuffed animals galore, pink streamers for decoration, small Christmas tree lights for lighting, and pillows and blankets that I kept under there ready to go for when I needed to retreat to safety. There wasn’t much room, but it was my fortress.

When I was about 6 years old, I stole a storage box from my Dad’s bar down in the basement. The box contained little umbrellas from a luau themed barbecue that my parents threw one summer. I remember their friends walking around with them hanging out of their drinks all night long. I took my markers and colored each one differently, then took duct tape and fastened the newly designed umbrellas to each one of my stuffed animals’ hand just so they would be safe, too. My animals and I would all lay huddled together underneath my bed for hours. I didn’t just keep my paranoia to myself. I pushed them upon everything and everyone close to me. When my parents left the house I shoved an umbrella in their hand. Sometimes, they nonchalantly placed them down somewhere and thought I wouldn’t notice. But, I always did and gave them an ear full when they returned. Pops, on the other hand, took them with great pleasure and without hesitation. When he knew I was watching out the window as he headed towards his truck, he opened up the umbrella proudly, even when it wasn’t raining and the sun shined bright. It’s kind of funny to see your grandfather sporting a bright pink umbrella with a smiley face imprinted on it above his head while clutching a case of his favorite beer in the other headed for a get together with his old-time war buddies.

It’s not as horrible these days to leave my house while the rain falls down. I’m older now and I know it won’t physically hurt me, but I rather not. And, that is exactly what I was thinking as I was staring at the chipping paint on the bottom of my magenta colored dresser, while laying on my side across my bed listening to the sound of the rain hitting the tree outside my window. My long brown hair was strewn across my face, making it so that the dresser was the only thing I could see besides the opening of my closet. My knees were brought into my chest and my hands were tightly squeezed around them. The mission: to make myself as little as I possibly could, trying to be nonexistent to everyone including myself.

I get in these moods a lot. It seems that the frequency of their happenings comes and goes in their intensity and longevity. Sometimes, it’s a week or two before the switch takes place. Other times, it’s within minutes. The switch being my mood swings. The high-flying upswing of those is breathlessly beautiful with my face hurting from the endless amounts of smiles emitting from my face. The downward end of the moods, the back swing, are where the trouble lies in wait, waiting to pounce on me and wishing with its fingers crossed that I won’t be ready. The less preparation and fight I give the easier and longer it suffocates me.

I’ve felt like shit for a while now, hiding it the best I can from my family, but the back swing swung higher today and I wasn’t prepared at all. Hence, why I have encased myself in this position on my bed, undecided on whether I want to breathe again. I knew I had to get up any second because Pops wants his hair cut for his date tonight. He enlisted me in this job ever since I’ve lived with him and we have the same spat every time because we differ on mishaps. Being that I am not a professional, it’s understandable that a mistake will occur, but his point is that I’ve done it for so long now that I should have mastered it being that he’s had the same haircut since forever. The typical old guy one. His hair parted on the side and combed over the top. He likes me to fix a mistake I make on his hairline and I just say “Eh, just shave it”. He always wins that battle, though because he says he has a dent on the top of his head and he can’t possibly show his face in public with it bare. The fact that I have one to match his makes me relent in my stance and mend my mishap.

I lay in my spot waiting to hear his bellowing voice and his fist banging on the wall, enamored by the choice in paint color the previous owner had chosen for the dresser. Granted, I didn’t like the baby pink I picked when I was little. But, that orange-green puke color that was peering through under the chipping magenta and light pink made me question other people’s sanity.

My mind was flip-flopping between the nonsense of the dresser, to disappointment that air was entering my lungs, to my hair getting in my eyes. My head does that on purpose. It tries to snap me out of my funk by focusing on mundane things such as chipping paint; the sane part trying to grab my attention away from the devil lurking inside. There was a rap of thunder coming from the heavens above that made me jump a few inches off my bed and land on the same spot and reconnect with the paint again.

“Nora, Let’s go!” Pops had just yelled for me shocking me out of my comatose state.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I grumbled



When it Rains, was a beautiful story that explored both the light as well as the deepest of darkness within the human mind. Told from Nora’s perspective, she shares with us her journey of fighting herself free from the chains of mental illness and releasing the devastating memories of losing her parents that haunt her mercilessly.

Prudence Hayes has done a wonderful job of addressing a very real issue and making it relatable to everyone. While the content of this book is certainly serious and should not be taken lightly, there are plenty of heart warming moments and outright hilarious interactions between Nora and those she loves the most, that guarantee for an entertaining read.

In the end, no matter who we are and where we’ve come from and no matter how sane we think we are…there’s a little bit of Nora in all of us. Something we should remember the next time we jump to making judgments rather than showing compassion.

Meet Prudence

Prudence Hayes

Prudence has a mind that wanders aimlessly every second of everyday and when it settles she calls herself a writer.
She is a daydreamer, a wisher and hoper. She is a devotee to The Beatles, her heart grows for animals and she is a fan of anything unique. She is an aunt to many who lives in Washington Crossing, Pa at the moment, but who knows where you will find her this time next year.








Prudence is also a Children’s Book Writer! Learn more about her book here!

Burst Into Flame by Lyssa Layne



Book Description

“In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.”

-Albert Schweitzer

For Dr. Katy Garrity, life is a whirlwind, and the New York Fire Department is the heart of the storm. After claiming so many people she loved, including her own husband, Katy is left adrift, trying to keep up with a busy career, a baby son, and her loving extended family.

Her only anchor is Jesse O’Neil, her late husband’s best friend. The charming former playboy has put his entire life on hold to care for Katy and her son. It’s inevitable that sparks will flare between them, but all of life seems to be conspiring to keep them apart. Especially Katy’s own heart, which shies away from trusting another firefighter.

Will the flames of passion burst into a lifetime of love? Or will secrets burn away their connection, causing Dr. Garrity to be burned again?

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Buy Links

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Burst-Into-Flame-Burning-Lovesick-ebook/dp/B00N6XEMHK/ref=pd_sim_kstore_1?ie=UTF8&refRID=12KF3MKRF2ENZ4C8M9ND

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/burst-into-flame-lyssa-layne/1120330025?ean=2940150313514

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/burst-into-flame

Don’t forget to add Love is a Fire to your bookshelf on Goodreads!


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My thoughts 🙂

After reading Love is a Fire I couldn’t wait to find out what Lyssa Layne had in store for Dr. Katy Malone.

Katy’s life hasn’t ever been easy, but she’s tough and knows how to persevere no matter what. That doesn’t mean that she isn’t vulnerable and in need of a solid shoulder to lean on from time to time.

Enter Jesse O’Neil, my favorite firefighter and the man Katy has learned to rely on throughout the heartache of losing her husband and raising her son alone.

Burst Into Flame is my favorite book in this series so far. Not just because Jesse was freaking hot, but because I loved how much the characters continued to reveal themselves in ways we weren’t able to get to know them before. Also,I genuinely enjoyed watching new relationships sprout, as well as see old ones develop into the kind of bonds you know in your heart will last a lifetime.

Burst Into Flame sucked me in from the start and wouldn’t let me go until I’d devoured every last page! Can’t wait to read what Lyssa Layne comes up with next!!


About the Author

Lyssa Layne is first, and foremost, the proud momma to her precious daughter, AR. In addition to working full-time and being a mommy to AR, she is also an avid St. Louis Cardinals fan, a runner, blogger, and an infertility survivor.

Having watched one too many medical dramas and being inspired by author Rachelle Ayala, who introduced her to the world of indie writing, Lyssa decided to try her hand at writing a romance story. Her attempt turned into the Burning Lovesick series. You can find Lyssa’s own interests throughout her stories although all stories are fictional.

Social Links

Blog:          http://lyssalayne.wordpress.com/

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

Twitter:       https://twitter.com/layne_lyssa

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

Amazon:     http://www.amazon.com/Lyssa-Layne/e/B00KP1Y5BY

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8280977.Lyssa_Layne

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/lyssa-layne



During the week of the blog tour, I will be doing Facebook takeovers. Please include the takeover for the day you post or you’re welcome to post the entire schedule if you’d like. If I could do a takeover on your page, please let me know.


Here is the schedule:

October 13 Rosie’s Book Heaven 6PM-8PM CT

October 14 TBA

October 15 TBA

October 16 One Click Addict Group 7PM-PM CT

October 17 Sassy Southern Book Blog 7PM-8PM CT

October 18 Two Unruly Girls 7PM-8PM CT

October 19 TBA

Prizes include:


1 e-book of Love is a Fire by Lyssa Layne

1 e-book of Burst Into Flame by Lyssa Layne

1 e-book of Unhurt by K.S. Thomas

1 e-book of Love & Deception by Chantel Rhondeau

1 e-book of Art of Love by Michele Shriver

1 e-book of A Masterpiece of Our Love by Nikki Barrett

2 pieces of jewelry from Rosey Johnny

AND the coolest prize of all, naming rights of one of the characters in the third book of the Burning Lovesick series


Rafflecopter Giveaway code

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Burst Into Flame is book #2 in the Burning Lovesick series. The first book is Love is a Fire. This is the info on that book if you want to include it as well.


Book Description

“Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your heart or burn your house down, you can never tell.” -Joan Crawford
Dr. Katy Malone has sworn off love after losing those she loves most in her life including her father, a member of the FDNY. She has decided to spend her time focusing on her medical research. Her ex-fiancée, and fellow doctor, isn’t ready to give up on loving her though.

Firefighter Nick Garrity is on a search for the future Mrs. Garrity. As he pushes thirty, with no prospects in sight, he’s afraid he’ll never find her. A devoted member of FDNY, he loves the thrill of his job and the satisfaction it brings him. He strives to teach the proby firefighter, Patrick Doyle, the ropes and pass on his passion to him.

When Doyle tries to impress the guys on the crew, he ends up in the care of Dr. Katy Malone. One look at Dr. Malone and Nick knows he’s found his future wife but can he convince her to love again?

Buy Links

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KLSLF8W

Barnes & Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-is-a-fire-lyssa-layne/1119627466?ean=2940149385003

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/love-is-a-fire-1