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Judith Sterling

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Judith Sterling

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FIXING CHRISTMAS by Peggy Jaeger

12 Friday Nov 2021

Posted by Judith Sterling in Uncategorized

≈ 18 Comments

Tags

A Dickens Holiday Romance, adoption, award-winning author, Christmas romance, contemporary romance, Dorrit's Diner, Fixing Christmas, later in life romance, Peggy Jaeger, romantic comedy, Santa Baby, small town romance

Award-winning author Peggy Jaeger is here today to talk about her recent release, Fixing Christmas. If you enjoy holiday romances–or just contemporary romance in general–you’ll want to check this out. Take it away, Peggy!

Welcome back to the tiny New England town of Dickens! FIXING CHRISTMAS is the full length companion novel to my novella SANTA BABY ( DORRIT’S DINER) and tells the story of a grown-up Abracadabra Charles and her life since she was left on Amy Dorrit’s doorstep 38 Christmas Eve’s ago.

Writing about adoption was a true labor of love for me. For several years my husband and I have attended a local auction for the Foster Parents Association in our community to raise excess funds for the worthwhile group. When I learned the statistics about how many children are placed in foster care each year – the number exploding due to the Opioid abuse crisis in this country – I was dumbfounded. The number of children in my community who are adopted by the foster parents is very high, something that warms my heart as a human being and as a writer. Being able to add to their ever dwindling government funding through the auction is something that fills me with a sense of pride.

In my own extended family adoption has played a major role. My sister-in-law and her husband adopted 2 babies (newborns!) within 2 months of one another and created an instant, loving family. FIXING CHRISTMAS is dedicated to them because they were my role models for Andy and Amy Charles, Abra’s adoptive parents.

More about Fixing Christimas:

Christmas has never filled writer Abra Charles with undiluted pleasure. If you’d been left on a doorstep on Christmas Eve morning, you might have a few issues with the holiday as well.

Abra’s avoided her hometown of Dickens for the past twenty Christmas seasons, but now she’s returned in an attempt to get her writing mojo back. Twice-divorced and with her third engagement ending in heartbreak, anger, and blackmail, Abra is now six months behind on submitting her current book. She hopes renting Copperfield House and immersing herself in solitude will cure her writer’s block and get her life back on track. The house she rents isn’t helping her achieve her goal, though, as one thing after another breaks, collapses, or floods.

Colton Bree, Dickens’ very own Mr. FixIt can’t help but wonder if the new resident of Copperfield House is cursed. After being called to repair a broken window, he’s then needed to fix an exploding coffeepot, an overrunning toilet, and a washing machine that has a mind of its own. Bree doesn’t mind all the unexpected repair jobs, though, because the sexy renter is something to look at and dream about, despite being a little neurotic and a whole lot of snarky.

Can Abra get her book done with all the distractions and craziness of her life, the biggest distraction being the flannelled hunk with the bedroom eyes and scowling yet oh-so-kissable mouth? Or will Dickens’ Mr FixIt have to step in and save the day and in so doing, fix Christmas for Abra forever?

A peek between the pages:

Here she was, alone at God only knew what hour, out in the most secluded part of town. The notion she should have paid more attention to those self-defense classes she’d sat in on as research for her last book blew through her head.

Think, Abra, think.

A butcher block of knives rested on the kitchen counter.

Armed is always better than unarmed.

She pulled one out, held it against her thigh.

Opening the basement door as if she was trying to disarm a live bomb, she slid through it and took a step downward. When the stair didn’t give her away by groaning, she stepped down another, then another until she could crouch down a bit and see into the basement proper.

A man, large and tall—exceptionally so—swept glass from a windowpane with the head of a hammer. The window looked too small for him to have crawled through, so how had he gotten into the house?

Abra took another step down and, in the next second, lost her balance as her foot miscalculated the depth of the step. She flailed out but wasn’t quick enough to grab onto the handrail before she tumbled straight down to the concrete basement floor, her butt bumping on each riser until she landed, once again, flat on her ass at the bottom. Still sore from last night’s tumble on the ice, she couldn’t prevent the ear-piercing scream of pain she let out.

“What the hell?” The man turned, surprise covering his face. He moved toward her.

“Don’t come any closer,” Abra shouted.  She shot her free hand up in a halt stance. “I’m armed.” She pointed the knife at him, which by some miracle hadn’t dropped from her hand when she’d fallen.

The man stopped in his tracks, glanced down at it, then fisted his hands on his hips, his brows tugging together across his forehead. “What are you gonna do? Butter me to death?”

Abra took a good look at the knife for the first time. It wasn’t the steel edged stiletto she thought she’d chosen, but had a flat, wide head, perfect for spreading jam and not skewering an intruder. She had to give him praise-points because most men in her experience didn’t know the differences among everyday cutlery. Ask them about a hunting or pocketknife, and you’d get a different response entirely.

The man shook his head. “Who are you?”

“Since this is my house shouldn’t I be asking you that? How did you get in here, because I know for a fact I locked the door last night.” A slight fib, but he didn’t need to know it.

She tried to pull herself to a standing position using only her free hand so she could keep the knife brandished in the other. It was awkward at best since she had no core strength to speak of.

Warm, strong arms slid around her waist and hauled her up as if she weighed no more than a passing thought.

He stared down at her, his head tilted to one side, his hands once again fisted on his hips as soon as she stood, surefooted.

“Since I know for a fact this isn’t your house,” he said, “you must be the renter Jimmy Marley mentioned. The one who’s supposed to arrive tomorrow.”

Despite the fact Abra loved a good sarcastic throwaway line, she didn’t appreciate being the subject of said mockery. While she swiped at the dust now covering her from chest to knees, she said, “I had a change of plans and that still doesn’t explain who you are or why you’re in my house, breaking a window.”

“Window was already broken. Marley hired me to fix it, gave me a key to get in to do so.” His gaze dragged down her torso. “Before you arrived.”

Suddenly, Abra was hyper-aware of her bra-less state. Half naked and alone in a big, old, creepy house, with a guy who knew the difference between everyday cutlery, wasn’t the way she saw her morning starting.  With her brain still on Vegas-time, her nerves frayed, and her body screaming for coffee, this was a worse case scenario if ever she saw one.

Tall, gray, and built-like-a-tank continued to stare at her as if she had two heads, possibly, three.

“You stay here,” she ordered, flourishing the butter knife at him again. “I’m going upstairs to make a call to confirm you are who you say you are.” She squinted up at him. “Who are you?”

He shook his head, and if she wasn’t mistaken, rolled his eyes. “Colton Bree.” He didn’t offer his hand.

She bobbed her head once. Not exactly a serial killer moniker, but Theodore Bundy was an innocuous sounding, milquetoast name, so you never knew.

“You stay here,” she said again, then, because it was never a good idea to turn your back on a potential murderer, she made her way up the stairs, backwards, the knife still wielded in front of her.

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A little more about Peggy:

Peggy Jaeger is a contemporary romance writer who writes Romantic Comedies about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them. If she can make you cry on one page and bring you out of tears rolling with laughter the next, she’s done her job as a writer.

Family and food play huge roles in Peggy’s stories because she believes there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal…or two…or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, she brings all topics of daily life into her stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents she longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through her books, she’s created the families she wanted as that lonely child.

When she’s not writing Peggy is usually painting, crafting, scrapbooking or decoupaging old steamer trunks she finds at rummage stores and garage sales.

As a lifelong diarist, she caught the blogging bug early on, and you can visit her at peggyjaeger.com where she blogs daily about life, writing, and stuff that makes her go “What??!”

Where to find her:

Website/Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | BookBub | YouTube | Instagram | Pinterest | LinkedIn | Amazon | Triberr

Congrats on your new release, Peggy! Wishing you all the best with it! 🙂

RORIK by Mary Morgan

29 Tuesday Jun 2021

Posted by Judith Sterling in Uncategorized

≈ 25 Comments

Tags

award-winning author, historical romance, inspiration for setting, Magnar, Mary Morgan, Orkney, paranormal romance, Rorik, Scotland, Scottish Vikings, The Wolves of Clan Sutherland, travel

I’m thrilled to welcome my dear friend, Mary Morgan, back to the blog to celebrate her new release, Rorik! It debuts tomorrow, and it’s the second book in her historical Scottish Viking paranormal romance series, The Wolves of Clan Sutherland. What inspired her to write the series? Let’s find out as Mary takes the stage…

Hello, Judith! I’m delighted to be visiting your lovely blog today and talking about my new release, Rorik, The Wolves of Clan Sutherland, Book 2. Let me share a wee bit of my journey to Orkney and Scotland which helped to inspire this series.

During our trip several years ago to Northern Scotland and the Orkney Islands, my husband and I were fortunate to have a personal guide escort us. David Ladd was exceptional in his knowledge—from referencing the names of flowers in the most obscure places to the wildlife and history, especially during our travels on Orkney. He took us on an amazing adventure, oftentimes off the well-worn path, revealing spectacular vistas. I shall always treasure our time with him and for allowing me to crawl into the Tomb of the Eagles in South Ronaldsay, Orkney. For a few hazarding moments, I worried David and my husband when I had trouble getting out of the small tomb. Was I worried? No.

Before I entered, rain and wind pelted us on our mile walk up the hill. Once I crawled inside the small tomb, I stood and encountered utter silence—no howling wind and no rain leaked through the crevices of stone. It was as if I entered another time and place—literally. Here were my immediate reactions within this cairn: Peace. Stillness. I am not alone.

Let me explain further about the Tomb of Eagles…

Located above the dramatic South Ronaldsay cliffs, the Isbister Chambered Cairn—better known today as the ‘Tomb of the Eagles’—is one of Orkney’s top archaeological sites. Discovered by a local farmer Ronnie Simison in the 1950s, the Stone Age tomb revealed an amazing collection of bones and artifacts, placed here some 5,000 years ago. Among the human bones, there were many talons and bones of the white-tailed eagle.

The Tomb of Eagles played an important part in the book. I took my experience and wove it into the story and through the first book, Magnar.

For Rorik’s story, I brought the Seer of the Orkneyjar Isles to Scotland. The landscape in Northern Scotland is vastly different. Rugged, wild, and ancient as well. My heart beat fiercely as I settled my gaze outward at the North Sea on a mist-filled afternoon. To this day, I continue to process all my emotions and experiences from my travels there.

Here are Ragna’s first impressions as she steps onto Scottish soil…

Her body trembled. How Ragna loathed traveling across the wide-open water. She glanced to her left at the towering cliffs of dark stone. The waves crashed behind her, and she resumed her progress slowly.

Bending down, she dug two fingers deep within the gritty shore. Coldness seeped into her skin as she tried to get a sense of this country. Others whispered to her from the land—ancient and unfamiliar. Wild and strange this Scotland. Never had Ragna considered leaving the Orkneyjar Isles.

Until recently.

A little more about Rorik:

The Dark Seducer is known throughout Scotland as a man who charms many women into his bed. Pleasure is his motto as he obtains information for his king. Yet Rorik MacNeil harbors one secret buried beneath his heart of steel. An unfulfilled conquest plagues both man and his inner wolf, and Rorik would rather suffer death’s sharp blade than confront his greatest fear.

As the Seer for the Orkneyjar Isles, Ragna Maddadsson confronts an unknown destiny when she travels across the North Sea to Scotland. In her quest to deliver a message from a powerful vision, she fears the warrior will not listen. If Rorik ignores her warning, Ragna must find a way to forestall his impending death. If unsuccessful, she risks having her heart cleaved in two. 

To unravel their true fates, Rorik and Ragna must trust in the power of the wolf.

A peek between the pages:

If he could, Rorik would remain on this boulder by the river for the duration of the evening and into night. His stomach growled in protest, and he realized he had little food this day. He reached for his aleskin and took a sip.

Even the thought of entertaining Hallgerd left a hollow ache within. “For all I ken you might have the face of a goat.”

Rorik sensed the intruder’s approach behind him before the first footstep sounded. He lifted his left hand and rested it on the hilt of his sword by his side.

“I happen to cherish the faces of my goats, though they are stubborn creatures.”

The ale soured in his gut. “Seer.” He released his hand from his sword and continued to stare outward.

When silence greeted him, he dared to glance over his shoulder. Wariness from her all-knowing eyes reflected at Rorik, not the bitter coldness she often imparted to him. “Why have you come?”

Ragna lifted her chin. “I have a message you must hear fully.”

Shrugging, Rorik resumed his gaze outward. “Then speak your words.”

Again, the woman remained silent. Rorik pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Do you not deem it best to put on your tunic?” she suggested, stepping closer and brushing the garment against his arm.

Slowly, Rorik lifted his head to look at her. Even her words sounded different. They were almost a plea, not filled with terse venom. A rosy stain had blossomed on her ivory cheeks, and her breathing appeared labored. He pondered two things—either his naked form disgusted her or perchance appealed to her. Surely, she despises me, nothing more.

The barb he wanted to fling out at her became trapped on his tongue. He guzzled deeply from the aleskin. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he dropped the empty skin next to his sword and swiftly got off the boulder.

Ragna gasped and clutched his tunic to her breasts. Yet she did not avert her eyes.

He dared to move toward her.

Her eyes widened and she stumbled back, dropping his tunic.

Rorik reached out and grabbed her hand, preventing her from falling. The contact of her skin against his sent a tremor of warmth up his arm. This time, his breathing became labored while he stared into her gray eyes. He found no hatred there—only beauty within their depths. His gaze traveled down to her full red lips, partially open and begging to be kissed.

Buy the book:

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More about Mary:

Award-winning Celtic paranormal and fantasy romance author, Mary Morgan resides in Northern California with her own knight in shining armor. However, during her travels to Scotland, England, and Ireland, she left a part of her soul in one of these countries and vows to return.

 
Mary’s passion for books started at an early age along with an overactive imagination. Inspired by her love for history and ancient Celtic mythology, her tales are filled with powerful warriors, brave women, magic, and romance. It wasn’t until the closure of Borders Books where Mary worked that she found her true calling by writing romance. Now, the worlds she created in her mind are coming to life within her stories.

If you enjoy history, tortured heroes, and a wee bit of magic, then time-travel within the pages of her books.

Where to connect with her:

Website | Amazon | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest | Instagram | BookBub | Audible | LinkedIn

Thanks so much for joining us today, Mary. I’m wishing you great success with the book!

NUMBERS GAME by Desiree Holt and Liz Crowe

04 Tuesday May 2021

Posted by Judith Sterling in Uncategorized

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

award-winning author, contemporary romance, Desiree Holt, Judith Sterling, Liz Crowe, Numbers Game, second chance romance, sports romance, The Wild Rose Press, USA Today bestselling author

I’m excited to welcome two sister Roses (published by The Wild Rose Press), Desiree Holt and Liz Crowe! We’re spotlighting their new release, Numbers Game, and Liz is here to talk about the co-writing conundrum. Take it away, Liz!

Desiree has always been one of my writing heroes. She’s the sort of established, successful author who never begrudges a newbie question or need for advice. I’ve known her since we both were writing for Decadent Publishing and got to meet her when she visited Ann Arbor for a football game.

We also share a love of sports, and have been known to go off on a tangent or two talking about college football and basketball. When I helped raise money for my kids’ high school athletic fund by inviting the Harbaugh brothers to speak at a dinner, I made sure to get a signed commemorative football and send it to her.

When I got the wild idea that we should write a sports-themed romance together, I wasn’t sure that she’d want to do it, but luckily for me she jumped at the opportunity. Given that we are both busy, it took us about a year to get our thoughts coalesced around the novel that is now NUMBERS GAME, available from Wild Rose Press. We wrote in a literal back and forth—she wrote our heroine’s perspective and I wrote the hero’s. We ran into a few issues, mainly with names which took a bit to sort out but once we did, we managed to write it between us over the course of about six months.

I learned so much writing with her, which is always my goal as an author—to learn, grow, and get better with every book and every editor and every publisher I work with. I hope you enjoy reading our second chance romance NUMBERS GAME as much as we enjoyed writing it!

A little more about Numbers Game:

Former pro football player and coach Duncan “Hatch” Hatcher fumbled his career and marriage. Now divorced and ready to tackle his future, he has an opportunity to redeem himself as coach of his college alma mater’s football team. But how can he can turn the team’s losing streak around and keep the secret of his downfall buried when the school agrees to a documentary that will allow a lovely journalist to dig her way into his past…and into his heart?

Olivia Grant’s ex-husband almost wrecked her journalism career while he definitely did a number on her self-esteem. The documentary on Duncan Hatcher is the perfect way to rebuild both. As a freshman in college, she’d had a crush on the senior football hero, but he hadn’t known she existed. She never expects the sparks that fly between them as they work on the project nor the struggles they must face if they both want to win.

A peek between the pages:

Hatch winced at the memory of how goofy he must have sounded to the lovely woman he was going to be having a fair bit of contact with this season. Olivia Grant was, without a doubt, beautiful, not to mention sexy as hell. She was a natural reporter, putting him at ease, even in the face of his high-school-ish reaction to her at first. But dear Lord, the crap he’d said? That shit about her being “better than she thought” at the race? And “looking for a foot in the door”? He’d sounded about as slick as the grandpas he’d been named for.

He groaned and pressed his forehead to the leather blotter on his new desk. After his divorce, he’d made a point not to notice women, something that was a bit of a self-imposed penalty. But there was no not noticing Olivia. Her soft, dark blonde hair that kept dropping over one of her deep green eyes as she’d look down at her notes, then back up at him. That smile, and those full, barely lip-sticked lips. And there was no denying she had a body that would be hard to shake out of his brain. Scott had told him she used to play soccer here, a few years behind him as an undergrad. How he’d not known her… Granted, he hadn’t been a big partier then, kept mostly to himself and his close group of friends and, as always, focused on the game.

But damn. He’d missed out on something then, without a doubt. He felt his face flush red and his entire body begin to react in ways that didn’t really serve him well as a fully grown man, with plenty of experience under his belt, so to speak.

Thankfully, she’d left before he could embarrass himself any more.

Home. Shower. Beer. Stare at a string of old movies on the giant television screen. Anything to get the lovely Olivia Grant and all her many attributes out of his head. She was, after all, the media. And everyone knew how he felt about the media.

It was get-a-grip time—on all parts of himself.

This was his chance at redemption. The opportunity was a godsend, considering the sorry state he’d left his life in on the west coast, and he didn’t intend to do anything to screw it up. He couldn’t afford to get distracted by a single thing. But how the hell was he going to do that when Olivia Grant might prove to be the biggest distraction of all?

Buy the book!

More about Desiree:

USA Today best-selling and award-winning author Desiree Holt writes everything from romantic suspense and contemporary on a variety of heat levels up to erotic, a genre in which she is the oldest living author. She has been referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, and is a winner of the EPIC E-Book Award, the Holt Medallion and a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice nominee. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times and numerous other national and international publications.

Where to find her:

Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Google | BookBub | Amazon

Sign up for her newsletter and receive a free book!

More about Liz:

Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville living in Central Illinois. She’s spent her time as a three-continent expat trailing spouse, mom of three, real estate agent, brewery owner and bar manager, and is currently a social media consultant and humane society development director, in addition to being an award-winning author. With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, inside fictional television stations and successful real estate offices, and even in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are compelling and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, at times frustrate, and always linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

Where to find her:

Facebook | Twitter | Amazon | BookBub | Goodreads | Instagram | Website

Sign up for her newsletter and get a free book!

Liz, Desiree, thanks so much for joining me today. All the best to you both, and may you have great success with Numbers Game!

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