Wednesday, November 12, 2025

Am I your girl? – #MFRWHooks #BDSMRomance #Thanksgiving

The Gazillionaire and the Virgin banner

Welcome to this week’s MFRW Book Hooks blog hop!

Time is flying. It’s the second week in November already. November makes me think of Thanksgiving. And Thanksgiving makes me think not of turkey and pumpkin pie but (forgive me) about dominance and submission. My first experience with BDSM was during a Thanksgiving vacation visit with the man who would become my Master. Those four days were life-changing. For one thing, if not for that Thanksgiving sojourn, I suspect that Lisabet Sarai the author would not exist.

My first novel, Raw Silk, was an attempt to capture the intensity and depth of that D/s relationship. It was a wild sexual fantasy. Then in 2016 I wrote a serious romance featuring characters who had many characteristics in common with my Master and me. The Gazillionaire and the Virgin is much more realistic in tone than Raw Silk. It doesn’t have a Thanksgiving scene—but it always brings back memories.

Blurb

She’s the billionaire. He’s the virgin. Still, he knows how to make her melt.

When Silicon Valley entrepreneur Rachel Zelinsky meets reclusive genius Theo Moore, she has a single objective —a deal to incorporate his AI software into her company’s popular virtual world. She finds Theo to be arrogant, sensitive and socially awkward, but his aura of power speaks to her carefully-hidden submissive side. Confused and aroused, she falls under his geeky spell.

Theo Moore can’t be bought. His past battles with poverty make him deeply suspicious of the billionaire CEO, though Rachel’s voluptuous curves and brilliant mind embody his ultimate fantasy. Too bad his knowledge about sex derives from extensive research and a stash of kinky porn rather than real-world experience.

Rachel may be Theo’s first lover, but Theo is her first true Master. One word from him, one touch, and she surrenders to bliss. It seems that love and complementary desire may harmonize their differing values, until Rachel’s unwitting violation of Theo’s trust tears them apart.

The Hook

I’m not expecting him to call Thursday afternoon. The trill of my phone interrupts me as I’m giving Diane instructions for tomorrow. Still, the sound of his voice kindles a warm joy in the pit of my stomach as well as a wetness between my legs.

Hello. Rachel?”

Hi, Theo. What’s up?”

I want you to come early tomorrow. Around noon.”

I—um—I really can’t. I’ve got an all-day meeting up in San Francisco, some investors from India.”

Cancel it.”

What? I can’t do that. These guys have come half-way around the world to talk to me about a franchise deal. Think of the potential profit! More than a billion people, a soaring GDP, and Internet growth that’s doubling every year…”

It’s the wrong thing to say. I realize this the moment the statement’s out of my mouth.

So you care more about money than about me.” Not a whining complaint, but a dry statement of the facts, at least as Theo sees them.

No, of course not, but I can’t put my personal life above my business…”

You should.” I can picture his face, the stubborn set of his jaw as he retreats, distancing himself from me. “But never mind. Of course you’re too busy. I should have expected that.”

Wait! Wait, don’t hang up, Theo.” I struggle to keep him engaged. “What’s so important about tomorrow noon?”

I want you to meet my sister. Ellen. She’s free for lunch tomorrow.”

Can’t we do it Saturday?”

She’s flying to Jamaica for a two-week vacation with her partner Saturday morning.”

What about when she gets back?”

She doesn’t want to leave without talking to you. She says she’s worried about me, worried about our relationship. She’s afraid you’ll hurt me, break my heart.”

I’d never hurt you, I almost say, then understand I’m doing so at that very moment. And it feels horrible, like a knife twisting in my gut.

The wheels turn in my mind. Seeming a bit cool to the Indians might actually work to my advantage. And I really don’t want to disappoint Theo. “Hmm. Maybe I can reschedule the conference for Monday. I suspect they’d enjoy having a free weekend in the city… This means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

Ellen’s my only family. If you’re going to be my girl, the two of you should get to know each other.”

Am I your girl? I want to ask, but Diane’s still in the room, eyeing me curiously as she listens to my side of the conversation. “Okay, okay. I’ll see what I can do. Can I call you back in an hour?”

Sure. Talk to you in an hour. Thank you, Rachel.”

Well, I’m not sure yet. I mean, whether I can reschedule to Monday.”

Thanks for trying at least. And Rachel?”

Yes?”

Don’t make your conference too early Monday. I plan to keep you up late Sunday night.”

 

The Gazillionaire and the Virgin book cover

Available in ebook and audio. Find the buy links at https://www.lisabetsarai.com/gazillionairevirginbook.html

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Book Hooks!



Tuesday, November 11, 2025

Review Tuesday: Until We Met Again by JL Peridot -- #sciencefiction #timetravel #ReviewTuesday

Until We Met Again cover

Until We Met Again by JL Peridot

Muscoca Media, 2025

In a future world devastated by environmental collapse, the remnants of humanity cling to a precarious existence. Burrowing underground to escape toxic sandstorms, conserving every precious drop of fresh water, consuming fungus and vat-grown protein paste, some of the survivors try to repair the present by undoing the mistakes of the past.

Qing is one of these, bound by the Lace to omniscient Origin. Leaving her body behind in a vat of nutrient gel, Qing’s consciousness follows Origin’s call to specific moments long ago where some apparently minor shift in events will reroute time into new, more favorable paths. Changing the past, though, has multiple and unexpected consequences beyond the intended remediation of apocalypse. During one such “stitch” in time, the love of her life is simply erased. No one else remembers him, but Qinq can’t forget their connection or his hypnotic eyes.

Every stitch she executes changes the world to which she returns. Memories are slippery; weren’t things always this way? Her mission is to serve Origin and the human race. What an empty victory, though, if she must accept that love is gone forever.

I have read quite a bit of science fiction, including time-travel tales. Until We Met Again has little in common with any of them. From its first paragraphs, it is fabulously original. There are no time machines here, no matter transmitters or cross-dimensional teleportation devices. This is not about matter at all, but about mind. Time itself is a mental construct. If we did not remember the past, would it exist?

JL Peridot acknowledges the frequently-discussed paradoxes of traveling in time, but presents them in an intensely personal way. She also explores the conflict between individual freedom and the common good. Qinq is ready to become an outlaw in order to reclaim her lover. Yet even her rebellion has been woven into the tapestry that is Origin.

I will not go into greater detail here regarding the plot and the resolution of this conflict—indeed, I am not sure the ending could be called a resolution. Until We Met Again is mystifying and yes, somewhat confusing. I read it twice through, but I still don’t completely understand it.

Still, I enjoyed every sentence, every phrase. The gorgeous language alternates between poetic and stark. Desire flows like a buried river beneath Qing’s reality. Reality flickers and reforms like a dream.

If you’re looking for a straightforward scifi romance, don’t buy this book. On the other hand, if you’re willing to release the need to explain everything, if you want to be challenged to think and to question your own reality, I recommend it highly.

Monday, November 10, 2025

Freedom comes at a cost – #Fantasy #Giveaway

Hippie Mermaid tour banner

Blurb

From sea to shore, betrayal follows her wherever she goes.

On Christmas Eve, psychic Kendra Adams reveals the secret she’s hidden for decades—she was once Rosina, a mermaid torn between sea and shore. Betrayed in her ocean kingdom and desperate to escape banishment, she persuades a politician to smuggle her into the human world. But freedom on land comes at a cost, as she soon finds herself ensnared in another web, this one spun by the politician’s power-hungry sister.

Excerpt

The human laughter startled me. It sounded so foreign, unlike anything I had ever heard before. I followed the sounds and turned my gaze toward four large humans approaching us. Up close, they were frightening, almost menacing, in their dark garments. I took note of their varying appearances. Two had light brown hair and blue eyes, while the other pair sported dark hair and dark eyes. Intent on observing the darker pair, I didn’t notice the other two men eyeing me.

Hippie mermaid!” yelled one of the men with light-colored features.

All the men glanced in my direction. I felt myself reddening as I met their liquid eyes and wide smiles. There was interest there, and some other emotion or feeling I had never seen before. For a split second, I was flattered by their attention. And then I recalled what Mama had said. I must let Annabella choose first.

Annabella did not give me a chance to react. She beckoned to the man who had spoken, and he reluctantly turned away from me. Rosetta claimed the other light-haired man, and Lisetta chose one of the dark-haired men. I watched as they moved to separate rocks along the shore.

The remaining man approached. As his features came into closer focus, I realized he was older than the others. Not by much, but there were white hairs sprinkled in the darkness, and his face crinkled as he smiled. “I guess I won this mermaid lottery.”

My eyes widened in surprise.

He laughed and shook his head. “You could have had any of us. You didn’t have to end up with me.”

But I’m not a Bella or an Etta. I’m an Ina.” There was no point in hiding my rank. I had never been embarrassed by it, and after hearing about Aunt Lina’s punishment, I knew my place.

Honey, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the prettiest of the group. You just don’t know it yet.”

About the Author


Joanne Guidoccio  author image

Joanne Guidoccio enjoyed a rewarding career teaching mathematics, business, and co-operative education courses before retiring to pursue writing. A member of Crime Writers of Canada, Sisters in Crime, and the Women’s Fiction Writers Association, she writes paranormal romances, cozy mysteries, and inspirational stories from her home base of Guelph, Ontario.

Social Media Links

Website: https://joanneguidoccio.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/joanneguidoccio

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/joanneguidoccio.bsky.social

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest. jca/guidoccio

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

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7277706.Joanne_Guidoccio

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/joanneguidoccio

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Joanne-Guidoccio/e/B00FAWJGCG

Buy Links

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Hippie-Mermaid-Joanne-Guidoccio-ebook/dp/B0FVHQ2T3N

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Hippie-Mermaid-Joanne-Guidoccio-ebook/dp/B0FVHQ2T3N

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0FVHQ2T3N

Amazon AU https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0FVHQ2T3N

Hippie Mermaid book cover

Joanne Guidoccio will be awarding a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner.


Friday, November 7, 2025

A haunting history – #Mystery #Ghost #RevolutionaryWar

The Misremembered Lighthouse tour banner

Lisabet: Your blurb localizes The Misremembered Lighthouse in "southeastern North Carolina". That's pretty specific! Why there? Is this story based on a real lighthouse? Is that where you got the inspiration for the book?

p.m. terrell: Yes, and thank you for having me! The lighthouse was inspired by the Ocracoke Light Station along the North Carolina coast, which was only in use for less than twenty years due to shifting channels. In The Misremembered Lighthouse, historian and author Hayley Hunter rents an isolated lighthouse converted to a rental property near the coast to serve as a base while she researches her next book and continues her genealogy research. The Corbyn Lighthouse, named for its only keeper, Jonathan Corbyn, was only in use for twenty years, ending shortly after the Revolutionary War ended and the channels shifted.

I knew the mystery of the lighthouse, which is haunted by Jonathan’s ghost, would lead Hayley to the Moore’s Creek Battlefield, where a pivotal scene plays out. Due to the location of this real battlefield, which is now a National Park, I had to move the lighthouse further south than the Ocracoke Light Station.

I was also interested in Scottish immigrants who migrated to North Carolina after the Battle of Culloden in Scotland, only to be called up to fight for the British during the American Revolutionary War. At Cross Creek, which is now Fayetteville, the Scots were ordered to assemble and march eastward toward Wilmington to put down the revolution. I placed the lighthouse in a channel that would effectively reduce the time needed for the British to transport additional troops from Wilmington to meet up with the Scots from Cross Creek. The intention was to use a pincer movement, in which two units come from opposite directions to squeeze the opponent in the middle.

The Corbyn Lighthouse is along that channel, and Jonathan discovers he can either aid the British or sabotage their efforts. He really wants to live out the rest of his life in peace, having fought the British in his youth in Scotland, but the war is coming to him.

By the time Hayley rents the restored property, it is in an isolated area surrounded by swamps. When she finds Jonathan’s journal and realizes he haunts the lighthouse, she sets out to discover what has compelled him to remain there even after death.

The Misremembered Lighthouse book cover

Blurb

While researching her next book, historian and author Hayley Hunter rents a lighthouse in Southeastern North Carolina. The modern lighthouse and vacation home replaced an original wood structure that only functioned during the Revolutionary War. The old lighthouse may be long gone, but the lightkeeper’s ghost remains.

Hayley becomes increasingly obsessed with finding why the spirit of Jonathan Corbyn lingers between realms. Joined by her lover Shay MacGregor, her search will take her into a world of spies, double agents, and espionage at the dawn of American democracy.

Excerpt

As the waitress returned with our meal, I said hesitantly, “I’ve been experiencing some activity.”

Activity?” Shay repeated, puzzled.

As we leisurely consumed our meals, I told him of the white German shepherd, the Native American, and my discovery of Beckett Dikshita outside my door. I held back from mentioning the disembodied voice I thought I’d heard. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I felt that discussing Jon was a betrayal of him. He might have died over two centuries ago, but he felt very much alive to me.

When I was finished, Shay’s eyes were narrowed in thought. “I’m relieved you changed the locks and set up the cameras,” he said thoughtfully. “I think we should make it a habit for the locals to see us together, don’t you think? Give them the impression that there are two of us there. As isolated as you say it is, I don’t fancy the idea of the village folk believing you’re there all alone.”

I agree, though the locals so far have consisted only of Argo and Beckett Dikshita.” I didn’t want to ask exactly how long he would remain before he was due back in Ireland for his job at the university. It seemed that doing so would hasten his departure. “And what do you think of the—unexplained—” I hesitated.

Ghosts?” he offered. “Apparitions? You didn’t believe a Native American and disappearing dog would get past me, did you? Well, you’ve come to an expert on that as well.”

Oh?” I chided. “You’re an expert?”

He chewed his food thoughtfully before becoming serious. “The Irish have a different mindset when it comes to spirits, they do,” he said, his voice softening. He cleared his throat. “You Americans have such a physical approach to life; you tend to think that when a person’s body ceases to function, their soul is taken away as well.”

About the Author

p.m. terrel author image

My full name is Patricia McClelland Terrell, and I have been writing under the pen name p.m.terrell ever since a publisher presented me with my first fiction book cover. The graphic designer had also entered my name in lower-case letters; my editor hated it, and I loved it. It’s been p.m.terrell ever since.

I began writing when I was nine years old, inspired by a schoolteacher and elementary school principal. Scott-Foresman published my first book, a computer instructional for universities, in 1984. Scott-Foresman, Dow-Jones (Richard D. Irwin branch), Palari Publishing, Paralee Press, and Drake Valley Press have published 26 books to date.

Before embarking on a full-time writing career, I founded McClelland Enterprises, Inc. in the Washington, D.C. area in 1984, specializing in computer instruction for employees in the workplace. I opened another business, Continental Software Development Corporation, in 1994, which focused on custom application development, programming, website design and development, and computer crime.

I was honored to be the first female President of the Chesterfield County/Colonial Heights Crime Solvers. I also served as the Treasurer for the Virginia Crime Stoppers Association. Since moving to North Carolina, I served on the Robeson County Friends of the Library and Robeson County Arts Council.

I launched The Book ‘Em Foundation with Waynesboro, Virginia Police Officer Mark Kearney, and assisted in Virginia, New Hampshire, and South Carolina events before establishing the Annual Book ‘Em North Carolina Writers Conference and Book Fair, chairing it for several years before turning it over to Robeson Community College in Lumberton, NC.

Social Links

Website: https://pmterrell.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pmterrell.author/

Buy Links

Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-misremembered-lighthouse/id6749962807

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-misremembered-lighthouse-pm-terrell/1148042055

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FM4D9YTB

All other eBook formats: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1832068

p.m. terrell will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.


Thursday, November 6, 2025

The past is the present – #TimeTravel #Romance #Dystopian

Until We Met Again book cover

Blurb

A time traveller absconds to the past in search of her lost love.

One word: my name. A call from Origin through the neural lace grafted to my brain and nerves, connecting me to another place in another time. A reminder of what I’m here to do.

I clutch a bottle cap; its sharp metal edges ground me in the present. It’s funny, don’t you think, to consider this moment the present, as if the past and future I came from aren’t supposed to exist? If you were here, I’d ask. You’d smile and kiss my forehead and say you love my nonsense questions.

But you’re not here. They want me to forget you ever were.

Available now at most e-book retailers.

Excerpt

Connecting me to Origin, the Lace works like any other organ—unthinkingly, like lungs breathing and the heart beating. It’s a sense tuned to an imperative beyond the five. At baseline, it’s a hum so deep inside my body, I barely catch it. It’s an ache in the feet I’ve gotten used to, grit in the nose that goes unnoticed until it triggers a sneeze. It’s the constant love for another person, even when attention diverts elsewhere.

At peak, the Lace is fire from within, lightning inside a tree. It consumes, overwhelms, contained within my brain and body. And for that brief moment, there is only Origin.

Back in the Annex, I climb into the tank while it fills with gel. Albert optimises the temperature and buoyancy for my body this morning. Slightly cool, a blessing on a day so warm we feel it even in this underground cavern. It’s already too hot to travel overland.

Waiting in the tepid gel, I search for Tarkan through the Lace. But all I get back is the flimsy sense of his fingers around my hips, and his mouth on a mole that might not have always been there. Origin yields some data at last, there but not there, not really pressed against my body, sucking at my skin. It hums through the Lace, vague and disconnected. It could be someone else’s gasp I hear, someone else’s fullness in my mouth, someone else’s tongue darting into tight spaces.

Qing.

Origin’s call delivers the countdown. Fifteen seconds to traversal, and details of the task ahead.

Deep vibrations ascend. Last night surfaces. We’re naked on a sweat-soaked bed, the body’s water rising from skin as outside air drifts from one vent to another, as inside air moves from panting lips across my collarbone, as a still-hungry mouth finds mine. We glisten under captured solar light while I twist the sparse strands of hair on the tops of fingers—your fingers, Tarkan’s fingers, one and the same for fleeting seconds.

Ten seconds.

The Lace peaks, I peak. It ravages my body, igniting my nerves. Muscles tighten. What air remains inside me bubbles through the gel. The Annex falls away and scattered dreams take over. I run my thumb over my own tingling, nail-bitten fingers. The fingers feel, and I feel.

Five seconds.

The past is the present. Another history becomes my own, a future yet promised. We are particles in superposition, collapsing into a moment. Memories rush into me like water. A face like Tarkan’s turns to me. His smile is your smile.

And then it’s gone.

Until We Met Again is available now.

About JL Peridot

JL Peridot writes love letters to the future on devices from the past. She's a qualified computer scientist, former website maker, amateur horticulturist, and sometimes illustrator. But most of the time, she's an author of romantic science fiction. She lives with her partner and fur-family in Boorloo (Perth, Australia) on Whadjuk Noongar country.

Visit her website at jlperidot.com for the full catalogue of her work.

~~~ 

This book is amazing. I'll be posting a review soon. ~ Lisabet


Wednesday, November 5, 2025

Love, desire, and desperation ... #NewRelease #lgbtqromance #MFRWHooks

Free Fall banner

Sometimes writing is like breathing; you don’t even have to think about it. Ideas crystallize into prose, in a process that is as effortless as it is mysterious.

On the other hand, there are the times when you have wrestle with every sentence. You emerge from a writing session aching and mentally bloodied, wondering how you’re ever going to get the story out of your head and onto the page.

Writing Free Fall was like that. I started it back in April of this year. These days I don’t have much time to write; my day job sucks up huge amounts of time. Still, 33K words in seven months is pretty sad. My online crit group was a huge help, but given their feedback, I found myself doing significant rewrites to every chapter.

Aside from the work, I was dogged by uncertainty. Until the very end, I really didn’t know how I was going to bring Rain and Mariel’s story to a satisfying conclusion and tie up the loose ends. Anxiety, frustration, a sense of inadequacy – that’s how I am going to remember the process of writing this book.

Still, now that it’s done and published, I am fairly happy with it. When I view the cover, which was my original inspiration, I feel I’ve captured the mood and brought the two women seated at that table to life. Love, desire and desperation: that’s what the cover says to me, and I think that’s what I’ve written.

Blurb

Welcome to Xanadu. For its elite customers, a space-based paradise of pleasure. For the slaves who work there, hell orbiting Earth.

Innocent and inexperienced, Mariel Linderman sells herself to Xanadu to rescue her farming family from starvation. Streetwise Rain Delgado accepts assignment as a Pleasure Rep in lieu of a prison sentence for murder. In a world that strictly prohibits same-sex relations, the passion that flares between them brings terrible risks. Their unexpected heart-and-soul connection turns their already precarious existence into a clandestine struggle for survival. 

Free Fall book cover
 

The Hook

Mariel arrives at the cafeteria at 1245. It’s bustling. She scans the rows of tables and locates Rain in the far corner, in a less crowded area. Using her wristband, she orders a soy-cheese sandwich and reconstituted orange juice, then takes her tray over to Rain’s table. Her heart slams against her ribs as she approaches her lover.

Rain is dressed for work, in pale, lace-trimmed lingerie that highlights her tawny skin. She’s so desirable that she steals Mariel’s breath and makes it hard to speak.

Uh—do you mind if I sit here?” Mariel feels shy and flustered, despite their history.

Rain’s mouth quirks in the hint of a grin. “Of course not. I’m happy to have company.”

Mariel takes a chair across from Rain. She is dying to tell Rain how much she has missed her, how she dreams about holding the other woman close, how she wakes with the memory of Rain’s taste in her mouth.

Does Rain feel the same overwhelming longing? Her beautiful, exotic face gives nothing away.

Mariel wonders if Rain has had any ideas about how they can get away from Xanadu. She wants to ask if her friend has had further contact with the technician who’s infatuated with her. Stuart, that was his name. Apparently he doesn’t have a lot of responsibility, but he seems to be skilled at ferreting out useful information.

Of course she cannot talk about any of these topics. Instead she addresses herself to her sandwich. The silence grows along with her frustration. Their times together are so rare, but this feels like a waste. It’s almost like punishment, to be so physically close to Rain and be forced into this distance.

She remembers wondering about Rain’s past. Would that be safe? Would Rain be willing to share?

Where did you grow up?” Mariel asks. She hears the uncertainty in her own voice.

Rain skewers her with a sharp look before answering. “New York. Manhattan. But I was born in Dominica. Gangs and riots. Blood and hunger. My mother and I escaped. She sold the only thing she had to get us to America.” She glances down at her seductive costume and shrugs. “I was seven—less than a year before Enbro came to power.”

So—so you’re not a U.S. citizen?” Mariel remembers how it was, in the months after the coup, when the Army had swept up tens of thousands of “illegals”, dumped them onto boats and pushed them into the sea. “How did you…?”

My mother got a job as a cleaner at the New York Public Library. The board let us live in the basement. They’re all billionaires, but none too fond of Enbro Marks and his crew.”

You were lucky.”

Luckier than some, anyway.” She seems to sense Mariel’s concern. “Couldn’t go to school, but I grew up surrounded by the world’s knowledge. I probably got a better education than you did.”

Mariel giggles. “Likely so. I was more concerned with cheerleading and make-up than chemistry and math. Though I did win the Miss Witchita beauty contest in my senior year.”

Rain’s expression melts into tenderness. “I’m not surprised. You’re a true all-American beauty.”

Mariel drains the last of her ersatz orange juice and grimaces. “That didn’t do me much good, did it?”

Ah, but you wouldn’t have gotten this prime job as a Xanadu Pleasure Rep if you’d been less gorgeous.”

They laugh together, the precious moment of shared intimacy confirming their bond. Mariel is dying to reach across the table to grasp Rain’s hand. With the greatest of difficulty, she suppresses the urge.

Rain catches and holds her gaze in a long moment of potent silence. In her lover’s dark eyes, Mariel sees desire and need that mirror her own.

It’s getting late,” Rain says at last. “I’ve got a client at 1500.”

That’s when I go on duty, too.” Despair settles like a damp blanket on Mariel’s spirit. She feels suddenly exhausted.

Let’s leave separately.”

Mariel wants to scream, to protest, to beg for another few minutes of Rain’s company. She knows that’s impossible, though. “When…?”

Soon,” her companion murmurs. “As soon as I can. I’ll let you know.” For an instant, Rain drops her guard and Mariel understands: she’s just as desperate for them to be together.

Free Fall teaser
 

Books2Read UBL: https://books2read.com/u/mKeK0E

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/242662867-free-fall

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/free-fall-escape-from-xanadu-by-lisabet-sarai

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Book Hooks!



Monday, November 3, 2025

Who would kill a burro racer? #CozyMystery #RockyMountains #Giveaway

The Tomato Jam Murders tour banner

Blurb

Roxy’s spending her summer with burros and jam, but there’s a murderer in the mountains.

It’s burro racing season in the Rockies, and Roxy Constantine is all for it. Now if she can come up with a good recipe for tomato jam, her summer will be complete. But when Roxy finds a body on the burro race course, she’s suddenly plunged into a murder investigation. And when her innocent friend is accused of killing her ex, Roxy must challenge a corrupt police chief who wants to shut her up. Now she needs to find the real killer and save a neighboring town from a plot to ruin its mountain magic.

Excerpt

Peggy Sue, don’t you dare!”

Peggy Sue turned soulful brown eyes on my friend Laurel Beacham, who was a few feet behind her. She looked like she really, really wanted to go through the gate leading to Laurel’s front yard.

Peggy Sue, you listen to me.”

Peggy Sue took another tentative step forward. Clearly, she was weighing just how much trouble she’d be in if she kept going. The gate to the front yard of Laurel’s cabin was slightly ajar and Peggy Sue would likely be able to step through it in just a moment or two. On the other hand, based on her tone of voice, Laurel clearly meant business.

Peggy Sue, I will lock you in the barn, so help me.”

Peggy Sue gave her another of those tragic looks that conveyed, How can you be considering something so cruel? So inhumane? All I want is some grass. And it’s just sitting there.

Laurel picked up her pace, but she was still a little far away from the gate. I, on the other hand, was right there. I quickly stepped forward just as Peggy Sue started to push the gate open. I gave it a quick shove so that the latch caught, and the gate snapped closed.

Peggy Sue stared up at me, eyes narrowing. I had no idea if donkeys bit people who annoyed them, and I didn’t want to find out. I stepped back. “Sorry, Peggy Sue, but I think you were about to get into a space where you aren’t allowed.”

Laurel moved forward and grabbed the burro’s halter. “Oh, she was definitely heading for a space where she isn’t allowed. And she knows it full well.” She pulled Peggy Sue away from the fence. Shaking her head, the burro gave my friend a look that should have broken the strongest heart. She had some of the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen, along with those great big brown eyes. Puppy eyes are nothing compared to burro eyes.

About the Author

Meg Benjamin author image

Meg Benjamin is an award-winning author of romance and cozy mysteries. Meg’s cozy mystery series, Luscious Delights from Wild Rose Press, concerns a jam-making sleuth based in the mythical small town of Shavano, Colorado. Her Konigsburg series is set in the Texas Hill Country and her Salt Box and Brewing Love trilogies are set in the Colorado Rockies (all are available from Entangled Publishing and from Meg’s indie line). Along with romance and cozies, Meg is also the author of the paranormal Ramos Family trilogy from Berkley InterMix and the Folk trilogy from Meg’s indie line. Meg’s books have won numerous awards, including an EPIC Award, a Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, the Holt Medallion from Virginia Romance Writers, the Beanpot Award from the New England Romance Writers, the Carly Crown Jewel of Books from the Mid-America Romance Authors, and the Award of Excellence from Colorado Romance Writers.

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The Tomato Jam Murder book cover

Amazon buy link for The Tomato Jam Murder : https://amzn.to/4oj93e5

Meg Benjamin will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.