"Sweet Southern Hearts" (Susan Schild) ★★★★★ BOOK TOUR with GIVEAWAY!!

a humorous, heartwarming story of 
new beginnings, do-overs, and self-discovery… 

SWEET SOUTHERN HEARTS

Willow Hill Series #3

Susan Schild

Releasing Jan 10th, 2017

Avon Books

Susan Schild welcomes you back to the offbeat Southern town of Willow Hill, North Carolina, for a humorous, heartwarming story of new beginnings, do-overs, and self-discovery… 

When it comes to marriage, third time’s the charm for Linny Taylor. She’s thrilled to be on her honeymoon with Jack Avery, Willow Hill’s handsome veterinarian. But just like the hair-raising white water rafting trip Jack persuades her to take, newlywed life has plenty of dips and bumps.

Jack’s twelve-year-old son is resisting all Linny’s efforts to be the perfect stepmother, while her own mother, Dottie, begs her to tag along on the first week of a free-wheeling RV adventure. Who knew women “of a certain age” could drum up so much trouble? No sooner is Linny sighing with relief at being back home than she’s helping her frazzled sister with a new baby…and dealing with an unexpected legacy from her late ex. Life is fuller—and richer—than she ever imagined, but if there’s one thing Linny’s learned by now, it’s that there’s always room for another sweet surprise…

“This charming and well observed novel about finding the courage to love after loss will make you smile as well as cry more than a few happy tears.  Be prepared for a story of true tenderness, humor, and sometimes nail biting tension. Sweet Southern Hearts delivers all this and more.” --Holly Chamberlin, author of Summer with my Sisters

EXCERPT

Linny’s heartbeat galloped under her life jacket as they shot down the rapids of the Ocasoula River. Eyes wide, she watched as their orange raft careened toward a jagged boulder, bumped it hard, and spun them toward a patch of choppy water. As the water rushed around the three of them—Linny, her new husband Jack, and their beautiful, Ms. Outward Bound–type goddess of a river guide—they dug deep and paddled hard, straining to pull through the eddy. With a whoosh, they were pulled backward down the roaring, foaming river. Linny shot Jack a panicky glance, but he was grinning exultantly and looking like he was having the time of his life. With the flick of a braid and a pirate’s smile, the guide thrust her paddle into the rapids, turned the raft around, and steered them downstream toward calmer water. Too soon to relax, though. Linny saw more rough waters ahead and tensed.

Be a shame to lose a third husband, she thought crazily and paddled harder.

The nimble-footed photographer from the outdoor center jogged along a path on the riverbank, snapping away as their raft rocketed toward the Turbinator, the Class III rapid that roiled ahead in the home stretch of the river trip. The photographer’s ponytail bounced as he raced ahead of them, taking shots as their raft bucked, dove, and finally glided through the rain-swollen Ocasoula.

Soon, a shivering Linny stood at the takeout, hugging herself and rubbing her arms. She’d been splashed thoroughly and didn’t want to think about how cold the water would have been if they’d flipped over. Though it was late June, the guide told them the water temperature was only in the midfifties. Linny found herself grinning like a fool as she waited for Jack to come back from the truck with his wallet to pay for their pictures. She’d been terrified, but she’d had a blast.

A white water rafting trip might not be high on most women’s lists of a must-do on a honeymoon, but when Linny had seen how Jack’s eyes sparkled as he reminisced about a rafting trip he’d taken when he was in his twenties, she’d said, “Let’s do it!” in an enthusiastic, practically perky voice she’d hardly recognized. In this new and complicated marriage, being a good sport and flexible as Gumby were going to ease the way. Though rafting wasn’t her thing, Jack had cheerfully gone on the vineyard tour with her yesterday and, on the drive up to the mountains, had tagged along, not looking bored, as she’d poked through vintage aprons and yellow Nancy Drew books at an antique store.

“Here you go, ma’am.” The young man held out his camera and scratched one mesh- sandaled foot with the other as he watched her view the shots he’d taken.

In perfect clarity, the fellow had caught them at the moment she and Jack got sling-shot skyward in their raft after diving down into the roiling water of that last rapid. Linny peered more closely at the picture. The photographer had captured the Carolina blue sky day, the Day-Glo orange of the raft, the lithe young goddess at the helm, and her and Jack—the glowing, sun-drenched newlyweds. Twice coming down that river they’d almost flipped and been swept into the churning waters. Linny’s teeth had chattered and she’d buzzed with adrenaline and fear, but she looked alive and exhilarated as she beamed at Jack, pure joy in her eyes. With powerful arms, he was digging away with his paddle, helping power them through. But Linny spotted two details that made her eyes well up: Jacks’ new gold band glinting in the sunlight and the look he’d given her just as the photographer had taken the shot was one of wonder and delight. He looked like he was thinking, How did I get this lucky?

“You did a great job.” Linny smiled at the young photographer.

“Thanks.” The young man blushed and pulled down the brim of his cap. He pointed to the visitors’ center. “Just give me a minute to load the pictures and you can pick the ones you want.”

“Thanks. We’ll be over as soon as my husband gets back,” she said.

He raised a hand and loped off.

Linny loved saying my husband. She’d probably said it too many times over the three days of this honeymoon. My husband and I are from Willow Hill. My husband is a veterinarian. My husband likes unsweetened tea. Linny smiled at herself. Yup, she was being obnoxious, but she didn’t care. She was so dang happy that she couldn’t stop. Well, at least for a while.

At age thirty-nine and with her streak of bad luck with husbands, the odds of her and Jack finding each other and falling in love weren’t great. Linny sent up a quick prayer of pure gratefulness. After her beloved first husband, Andy, had died of a brown recluse spider bite while cleaning out a shed for Linny—an item on the too-long honey-do lists she always kept for him—she’d been lost for so many years and thought she’d never be happy again. Then Buck the charmer came along. She should have known a golden boy driving a vintage Caddy wouldn’t be good husband material, but she’d married him anyway. He’d turned out to be trouble, but just as she was considering divorcing him, he’d up and died on her. When his aneurism blew while he was in bed with a woman named Kandi, he’d left her broke.

 Linny had sworn she’d steer clear of men or die trying, and then she’d met Jack. Technically, she’d accidentally hit him in the head with a bourbon bottle while recycling at the dump. She smiled and shook her head, remembering. Most women would pretty up that how-we-met story, but Linny told people the unvarnished version. Maybe she just wanted to spread the word that second chances, fresh starts, and true love were all still possible, even at her ages. The happily ever after you yearn for just might not look the way you thought it would.

So, a few days ago in a backyard ceremony, Linny had married Jack. A small-town vet with a twelve-year-old son and an exquisite ex-wife who was just a little too chummy with him for Linny’s taste, Jack came with complications. But so had she. And today she was buoyant and happy.

CAT'S REVIEW

"Sweet Southern Hearts" by Susan Schild.  This is a heartwarming tale that nicely finishes out this series.  Having read the earlier books in the series (which I highly recommend), I have grown to love Linny and Jack and was invested in the story.  Linny is struggling to settle into her new role of wife and stepmom, on top of dealing with her mom, sister and her husband's ex.  At times, I found myself screaming for some things she dealt with, other times I was laughing at her inner talks.  Ms. Schild has penned a tale that the reader can certainly relate to.  This story goes through real life situations that happen every day.  It was a joy to read Linny's journey and to see her grow and believe again.  I hope Ms. Schild is planning another book or series soon as I will most certainly check it out.  (received copy for honest review).

★★★★★

Susan Schild writes wholesome and sunny Southern fiction. She likes stories about charming men, missing money, adventuresome women, sweet dogs, and happily ever afters at any age.

Susan is a wife and a stepmother. She enjoys rummaging through thrift store for treasures like four dollar cashmere sweaters and amateur watercolor paintings. She likes taking walks with her Lab mix, Tucker, and his buddies. She and her family live in North Carolina.

Susan has used her professional background as a psychotherapist and a management consultant to add authenticity to her characters.

SWEET SOUTHERN HEARTS, the final book in the Willow Hill series, will be released in January of 2017. Readers can look forward to more adventures, new beaus, sinister ministers, lovebirds over fifty, a road trip for Mama and her pals, and maybe even an “I Do”...or two.

You can follow Susan on Facebook, Twitter and on her website or subscribe to her quarterly newsletter for inside scoop, sneak peeks and giveaways.

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"Love Story" (Lauren Layne) EXCERPT REVEAL with GIVEAWAY!!

Over the course of one wild road trip, 

feuding childhood sweethearts get a second chance at love.

LOVE STORY

a Love Unexpectedly novel

Lauren Layne

Releasing February 14th, 2017

Loveswept

Over the course of one wild road trip, feuding childhood sweethearts get a second chance at love in this charming rom-com—a standalone novel from the New York Times bestselling author of Blurred Lines and Good Girl.

When Lucy Hawkins receives a job offer in San Francisco, she can’t wait to spread her wings and leave her small Virginia hometown behind. Her close-knit family supports her as best they can, by handing over the keys to a station wagon that’s seen better days. The catch? The cross-country trip comes with a traveling companion: her older brother’s best friend, aka the guy who took Lucy’s virginity hours before breaking her heart.

After spending the past four years and every last dime caring for his sick father, Reece Sullivan will do just about anything to break free of the painful memories—even if it means a two-week road trip with the one girl who’s ever made it past his carefully guarded exterior. But after long days of bickering in the car turn into steamy nights in secluded motel rooms, Reece learns that, when it comes to Lucy, their story is far from over. And this time, they just might have a shot at a happy ending.

Although listed as a title in the Love Unexpectedly Series, all books in the series stand alone.

“Spock, we’re giving you Horny!” my mom blurts out, apparently fed up with my denseness.

Her utterance is too much for my siblings to handle and they both burst out laughing, retreating into the kitchen to rejoin the party where there’s wine.

Oh what I wouldn’t give for wine right now.

“I, um . . . you’re giving me the car?” I ask.

“Because yours broke down,” my dad explains, walking forward to thump Horny’s dented hood.

“And this one’s . . . not broken down?” I ask skeptically.

Look, it’s not that I’m not grateful. My parents are trying to give me a car, I appreciate the sweetness of the gesture, it’s just . . .

Here’s the thing about Horny: he barely got us three kids through high school. I mean, Horny is the car that sputtered and shook making it the 3.2 miles to Jefferson High, no matter who was behind the wheel.

I’m even going to come all the way clean here and say that early on in my freshmen year, I was embarrassed showing up in Horny. Then I realized I was lucky to have a car at all, and well . . . I dunno, I guess Horny became a part of us Hawkins kids’ charm, because the station wagon was practically an institution from Craig’s high school reign all the way through Brandi’s.

But poor Horny quit working years ago. Much to Brandi’s chagrin, he gave up the ghost a mere two months before her high school graduation, and she spent the last bit of her senior year being picked up by my parents.

“He’s going to take you to California,” Dad says, giving the car another thump.

“Really?” I step forward and run a tentative finger along the familiar panel. He’s had a bath, so at least that’s something. “Because last I knew, he wouldn’t even make it out of the garage.”

“Yeah, well, we neglected him for a while, but he’s right as rain now,” Dad says, puffing out his chest as though Horny’s a fourth child.

“Like, as in he actually starts?”

“Purrs like a kitten,” my mom says with an emphatic nod, even though I know she doesn’t even like cats. “We didn’t believe it, but we took him to church on Sunday and there were no issues.”

I literally bite my tongue to keep from pointing out that this is hardly a feat. Sacred Presbyterian is 0.8 miles away from the house.

“You took Horny into a shop?” I ask, starting to warm to the idea of having a car again. I’m a little touched, actually. Money is tight for my parents. Dad’s a PE teacher, and Mom gives a mean winery tour, but the gig’s never paid much.

“Not exactly, it was more of a bartering situation,” Mom says.

“Yeah?” I say, going around to the driver’s seat, already giddy with the prospect of telling Oscar I’ll be able to come see him in Miami after all, even if I won’t exactly be riding in style.

“Reece agreed to fix him up.”

I’m lowering myself into the car as my dad says this, but I reverse so quickly I hit my head. My skull doesn’t even register the pain, because I’m too busy registering the hurt in my heart at the familiar name. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Reece,” my mom says, giving me a bemused look. “He’s always been handy with cars.”

“He fixed up the car in exchange for what?”

And then I feel—I actually feel—the air change around me as the side door to the garage opens, and a new presence sucks all the air out of the space.

I don’t turn around. I don’t move. But I feel his eyes on me. Over me.

“Reece is headed out to California too,” my oblivious mother chatters on. “It worked out perfectly actually. Now you two can ride together, and your dad and I don’t have to worry about you alone in the middle of nowhere with a twenty-something-year-old car.

They think the car is going to be the problem here? It’s not the car that’s toxic to me. It’s him.

Reece Sullivan. My brother’s best friend. My parents’ “other son.”

Slowly I force myself to turn, and even though I’m prepped, the force of that ice-blue gaze still does something dangerous to me.

He winks, quick and cocky, and I suck in a breath, and I have to wonder . . .

I wonder if my parents would feel differently about their little plan if they knew that their makeshift mechanic is the same guy that popped my cherry six years earlier under their very roof.

And then broke my heart twenty-four hours later.

Lauren Layne is the USA Today bestselling author of more than a dozen romantic comedies. She lives in New York City with her husband (who was her high school sweetheart--cute, right?!) and plus-sized Pomeranian.

In 2011, she ditched her corporate career in Seattle to pursue a full-time writing career in Manhattan, and never looked back.

In her ideal world, every stiletto-wearing, Kate Spade wielding woman would carry a Kindle stocked with Lauren Layne books.

For a list of all her works, please be sure to check out her official website!

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"The Rule Maker" (Jennifer Blackwood) RELEASE BLAST with GIVEAWAY!!

All her rules are about to change…

THE RULE MAKER

The Rule Breakers #2

Jennifer Blackwood

Releasing January 16th, 2017

Entangled Embrace

Ten Steps to Surviving a New Job:

1. Don’t sleep with the client. It’ll get you fired. (Sounds easy enough.)

2. Don’t blink when new client turns out to be former one-night stand.

3. Don’t call same client a jerk for never texting you back.

4. Don’t believe client when he says he really, really wanted to call.

5. Remember, the client is always right—so you can’t junk punch him when he demands new design after new design.

6. Ignore accelerated heartbeat every time sexy client walks into room.

7. Definitely ignore client’s large hands. They just mean he wears big gloves.

8. Don’t let client’s charm wear you down. Be strong.

9. Whatever you do, don’t fall for the client. You’ll lose more than your job—maybe even your heart.

10. If all else fails, see rule number one again.

EXCERPT

He scrubbed his palms over his face and rested his elbows on his knees. “This was not how I saw this night going.”

“Big Valentine’s Day plans?”

He lowered his hands and looked at me like I’d just claimed I single-handedly caused the storm raging outside. “I didn’t even know that was today. Does this mean we’re each other’s valentines by default?”

I scoffed. “Not a chance.”

He chuckled. “Always so blunt. I like that about you.” He quickly cleared his throat as if he hadn’t meant to say that. “Well, non-valentine, looks like we’re going to be stuck here a while. Have anything in mind?” he said.

I decided against packing on another insult. He was being nice, and this sure as heck beat staring at the wall the rest of the night. “My form of entertainment is at 6 percent battery, so I’m open to suggestions.”

“Mine is fully charged. Want to watch something?”

“Sure.” What else did I have to do? Before I knew it, I was sitting on the bed next to him, leaning against the ornately carved headboard. Snow gusting against the window was the only sound in the room as he searched for a show for us to watch.

So quiet.

Way too quiet.

I fidgeted with my necklace, moving the small diamond back and forth on the chain. The last time I was in bed with Ryder… I didn’t even want to finish that thought, because it’d do nothing but make this situation worse. I chanced a peek in his direction.

He chewed the inside of his cheek, swiping through our options. “This is awkward, huh?” he said.

“We’ve achieved Urkel status.”

He chuckled and scrolled through the show queue. “Would you rather watch Law and Order: SVU or Criminal Minds?”

“That is quite possibly the worst Would You Rather question ever asked.”

His eyes cut to mine. “I didn’t know I was playing a game.”

“You’ve never played it?”

He shook his head.

Lainey and I played this game all the time in college, and when we’d take road trips together. She always came up with the grossest ones. “It’s simple. All you have to do is ask the person which horrible thing they’d rather do. The harder the question, the better. Like would you rather lay in a pit of snakes, or eat questionably dead roadkill?” I pointed to his phone. “Oh, John Tucker Must Die. I like that one.”

“Negative, ghost rider.” He scrolled past my suggestion. “And what the hell does questionably dead mean? Is it still twitching, or are we talking suspicious cause of death?”

I shrugged. “The interpretation’s up to you.”

“You’re absolutely no help.” He swiped his thumb across his beard and contemplated. “I guess I’d go with the snakes.”

“Okay, now it’s your turn,” I said.

“Do I really have to play? I thought we were picking a show.”

I shot him a look.

“Fine. Would you rather have me or Chewbacca as your valentine?”

“Too easy. The spider.”

He put his hand to his heart. “You wound me.”

“Stop being such a baby.” I swatted at his chest and immediately pulled my hand back. Nope. Would not go there. “Okay, would you rather not be able to see or talk for a month?”

He answered instantly. “See.”

“Right. You’d probably go nuts if you couldn’t open that big mouth of yours.”

His lips twitched. “You’re one to talk.”

“Excuse me?” Okay, I did have a tough time keeping my thoughts on lockdown outside the office, but that was my own cross to bear.

“Don’t even try to play it off like you’re innocent.”

I’d dated a lot of losers in the past, most who hadn’t even bothered to get to know me, but even after only hanging out a few times, Ryder had me pegged. He was perceptive. I saw the look in his eyes whenever I dealt with Jason. His attention focused solely on me was unnerving. “Jerk,” I sputtered.

“Now I know you’re holding back. You can do way better than that.” He scrolled through his phone again. “How about Die Hard?”

“Are all your show selections about death? I’m starting to worry I made a mistake coming over here.” My lips pulled into a smile and I quickly extinguished it. God, I wanted to hate him.

“Fine.” He continued looking at the Netflix queue. “Would you rather eat sushi from a taco stand, or lick an airplane armrest?”

“Good one. Sushi.” I pointed to his screen. “How about 10 Things I Hate About You?”

He shook his head and chuckled. “Are all of your suggestions going to not-so-subtly tell me you hate me?”

I smiled sweetly. “Maybe.”

“Just think, most people would find this to be a romantic escape. Two people, stuck in the mountains on Valentine’s Day,” he said.

“We’re Hallmark movie material, all right,” I deadpanned.

“Okay, fine. How about The Walking Dead?”

“Your show picking powers have been officially revoked.” I grabbed the phone from his hand.

“Hey!” He grabbed for the phone, and I held it out of reach. “You’re going to regret that.” Within seconds he was on top of me, playfully pinning me to the bed, his strong hands circling my wrists. Air evaporated from my lungs as our gazes connected.

I was immediately transported back to that night.

Tell me what you want, Zoey. Tell me what you need from me.

I swallowed hard. That was months ago, and those words still haunted me from time to time. Because he did exactly that, gave me what I wanted and needed. Repeatedly.

You have read THE RULE BOOK, right?

Jennifer Blackwood is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance. She lives in Oregon with her husband, son, and poorly behaved black lab puppy. When not chasing after her toddler, you can find her binging on episodes of Gilmore Girls and Supernatural, and locking herself in her office to write.

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"Clam Jam" (RC Boldt) BOOK TOUR ★★★★ with GIVEAWAY!

Definition: the female equivalent of a cock block.

CLAM JAM

RC Boldt

Releasing January 10th, 2017

"Clam Jam"

Definition: the female equivalent of a cock block.

Example: You’re chatting with a guy you’re interested in and your friend comes along and lays claim to him. 

Maggie
That’s my life—except it’s worse. My friend who keeps “jamming” me is my gay roommate and if that isn’t a W.T.F. moment, I’m not sure what is.

Fact: He went home with three—yes, three—of the guys I had been so sure were into me.
Fact: He’s really pissing me off. I mean, hello? I’m trying to get back in the saddle, but I’ll never manage to get a boyfriend before the age of fifty if he keeps this up.
Fact: Secretly, I wonder what it would be like if he weren’t gay. Why do all the hot, sweet, tender-hearted guys have to be gay?
Fact: My gay-dar needs a serious tune-up.

Ry
The day I interviewed for the room to rent, everything changed. I knew I had met “the girl”, except there was one small problem: she didn’t want anything to do with men. I recognized a top-notch force field when I saw one. She’d been burned badly and didn’t want to deal with a heterosexual guy as a roommate. I could’ve turned around and found another place to live, but I wanted to live there—with her.

So I had to go “undercover”. 

Fact: I’m in love with my roommate.
Fact: I’m a likely candidate for carpal tunnel surgery since all the action I’ve had for the past year has been my hand.
Fact: She’s going to hate me if I come clean now.
Fact: I’m not giving up. Which means, I’ll just have to continue to run defense until I figure out a way to get Maggie to see the “real” me. 

The me that loves her.

The me that would never do her wrong.

Until then, I’ll keep running off every guy who shows any interest. 

Until then, I’ll continue to Clam Jam. 

EXCERPT

Ry’s lips against mine. That’s all I can think of as I return to my room, closing the door quietly behind me.

My brain goes off on a tangent, imagining Ry’s soft lips brushing against mine, teasing me, before his tongue sweeps inside to taste me. Leaning my back against the door, I raise my fingertips to graze my lips.

Is it possible to have kisser’s remorse? You know, like buyer’s remorse except, in this case, you’ve kissed someone and are really regretting the fact that it’s over? If so, I’m pretty sure I have a serious case of it.

It might be terminal.

Walking over to my dresser, I slide open my top drawer—the one I keep all of my underwear and bras in—and slip my hand to the back. When my fingers wrap around what I’m looking for, I get that tense feeling. Like the time Sister Margaret caught me throwing away my salami sandwich in the second grade. Dang woman had eyes in the back of her head, I tell you.

Shoving that nagging feeling to the back of my mind, I reach for the two batteries, quickly inserting them before snapping the lid shut and laying my vibrator on my bed while I undress. Once I’m naked, I slide beneath my covers and turn it on, praying the covers muffle the noise enough that Ry doesn’t hear—doesn’t realize what I’m doing.

Doesn’t realize I’m thinking of him while I touch myself. Oooh, yes, that’s right. Naughty Maggie has come out to play. My mind begins to run rampant with scenarios. One, in particular, takes hold …

Suddenly, my bedroom door opens, and Ry’s silhouette is in my doorway.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I … um,” I stutter, knowing I’ve been caught red-handed.

He steps farther inside my bedroom, and I notice that he’s wearing only a pair of boxer-briefs, the outline of his cock pressing against the fabric, and he’s hard. So hard.

“Are you touching yourself, Mags?” His voice is raspy, like he’s just as turned on as I am. And the fact that I turn him on is just all sorts of hot.

“Yes,” I breathe.

He moves closer, standing beside my bed. “Show me.”

CAT'S REVIEW

"Clam Jam" by RC Boldt.    Being this was my first read by this author,  I wasn't sure what to expect.  Well, I was pleasantly surprised and quite happy I took the chance.  Ms. Boldt had me laughing and smiling throughout.   Maggie and Ry are terrific. Mags is funny, I loved her inner dialagues and her wit.  Ry is so yummy and so sexy and an all around good guy.   The plot was fun and filled with comic relief yet also some heartfelt feelings and emotions.  Honestly, too, I had to look up clam jam and found it's a real thing! Who knew? LOL  I certainly would recommend "Clam Jam" if you are looking for a funny story that has all the romance needed to warm your heart.  (Received copy for honest review)

★★★★

RC Boldt is the wife of Mr. Boldt, a retired Navy Chief, mother of Little Miss Boldt, and former teacher of many students. She currently lives on the southeastern coast of North Carolina, enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you're in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can't recall the lyrics to a particular 80's song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she's your girl.

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