Saturday, November 27, 2021

Charity Sunday for a Full Belly -- #CharitySunday #Hunger #Gratitude

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Welcome to the Thanksgiving edition of Charity Sunday. With the holiday barely passed, I hope that you’re still in the process of counting your blessings and passing them on.

Speaking of passing them on, you can request a free holiday romance book just by leaving a comment on my Thanksgiving post

Anyway, after enjoying a Thanksgiving feast, today I’m supporting the Food Bank of Western Massachusetts. More specifically, I’m donating to an event that finished earlier this week, Monte’s March. Before I moved to Southeast Asia, I lived in the beautiful Pioneer Valley in western Mass, and I still feel a strong connection to the community there.

You might think hunger isn’t a problem in a wealthy, tech-centric state like Massachusetts, but once you get a hundred miles west of Boston things change a lot. Western Mass is largely rural, with plenty of families living on the edge of poverty.

I’ve already donated $25 to the March, which would be twelve comments at two bucks a comment. If I get more than twelve comments, I’ll make a second donation. In fact, I’ll give $3 for each comment over twelve!

Can we do that?

Of course we can...

Meanwhile, to amuse you, I have an excerpt from my holiday romance Slush – an excerpt focusing on how good even simple food can be, when you’re really hungry.

Be sure to leave a comment. And please do visit the other authors who are participating in today’s blog hop. They are all supporting worthy causes.

The kid retrieved a chipped mug from one of the crates piled up against the wall, filled it from a spigot above them, and handed it to Ian. “Here you go.”

Ian sniffed at the liquid before he took a sip. It smelled a bit musty, but he needed it too badly to care.

I managed to score some aspirin today, too. Think you could use it more than me.”

His host popped two white tablets into Ian’s palm. He peered down at them, dazed.

By Jesus! You think I’m gonna poison you?”

No, no, of course not.” He washed the medicine down with more of the water. Somehow he felt better already. “You’re very kind.”

The young man shrugged once more. “Anyone would do the same.”

Not me. If I saw you lying in the gutter, I wouldn’t look twice.

The thought gave him more pain than the throbbing lump at the back of his head. Was it really true?

Lie down. Rest. You hungry?”

Ian interrogated his battered body. “Um – no, I don’t think so.”

Well I am. Gotta get out of some of these clothes first, though. It’s getting pretty toasty in here.”

The kid yanked off his woolen cap. Ian gasped as masses of fine golden hair spilled down over those narrow shoulders.

You – you’re a woman!”

Yeah – you didn’t know?” Her peals of laughter made him blush with embarrassment. Rage simmered underneath. No doubt she thought him a fool. It was so obvious now – the slender body swaddled in second hand sweaters, the little hands, the delicate features and fair complexion... But who would have expected to find such a pretty girl in a place like this?

I’m sorry,” she said, gulping air in an attempt to smother her hilarity. “I sometimes forget. I’m not exactly a glamor queen these days.” She gestured at her raggedy clothing. “You don’t mind if I take some of this off, do you?”

Stunned, Ian shook his head. She peeled off a stretched out hoodie, two sweaters and a flannel shirt. After prying off her sneakers, she shed her baggy dungarees. Now she wore nothing but off-white athletic socks, a grass-green tee shirt and the scarlet long johns. Both of the latter clung to her willowy form, making it quite clear there was nothing underneath.

Despite his exhaustion and the pain in his head, Ian’s cock stirred inside his damp, hand-tailored trousers. You bastard, he thought. She saves your life, probably, and all you can think of is fucking her.

She didn’t notice. She was surveying her own petite body, the green top and red bottoms. “Wow,” she chuckled. “I look really Christmassy, don’t I?”

Her merriment was infectious. “All you need is a pointy cap and you could be one of Santa’s elves,” he told her.

Her face lit up with delight. “Thanks. I’m Daisy, by the way. Should have introduced myself before and spared you the shock.”

That’s okay. My name’s Ian.”

She fixed him with one of those direct stares. Her eyes were gray, he noticed, not the cornflower blue he would have expected given her hair.

Maybe you should take off your own wet things, Ian. Wouldn’t want you to catch pneumonia, or anything – after all the work of dragging you back here!”

They laughed together. Ian shucked his sports jacket and unbuttoned his dress shirt. Now that the fire had warmed the small space, his undershirt was more than adequate. He hesitated before removing his pants. His erection has subsided for the moment, but what if it returned? In the end, though, the feel of sodden fabric clinging to his skin was just too uncomfortable to endure. He hung the wet trousers over a rickety chair near the mattress, then draped his relatively dry shirt over his crotch – just in case.

An odd sense of well-being stole over him as he propped himself against the wall, watching Daisy move around her rudimentary shelter. Her every gesture had an economical grace. With her back to him, she busied herself at a makeshift counter of planks and cinder blocks along the opposite wall. He caught the snap of a match, the chemical odor of Sterno. Her blond tresses were a shower of gold, illuminated by the single dusty bulb in the ceiling, When she stood on tiptoe to grab something off a shelf near the ceiling, her pert buttocks flexed under the red long johns. Ian mentally scolded himself as his cock twitched and filled. But what could he do? She was, quite simply, enchanting.

A heavenly aroma filled the space. Ian’s stomach rumbled. “Oh my God, that smells delicious! What is it?”

Daisy smiled over her shoulder. “Just Campbell’s tomato soup. About all I can afford these days. You want some?”

Is there enough?” He felt so guilty, craving her meager supplies.

Sure. I’ve got some crackers, too.”

She brought him a steaming bowl and a bent, stamped metal spoon. “Careful, it’s hot.” She scattered cellophane-wrapped two-packs of saltines over the blanket. “Help yourself. It’s easy to filch more from work.”

You have a job?” He dipped his spoon into the soup then blew on the hot surface. The smell reminded him of his childhood. His mom used to make tomato soup when he came in from playing in the snow.

Sure. What’d you think, I was some kind of bum? At Donut Heaven, down on Huntington Ave. Only part time, and not even minimum wage, but I get a free uniform, lunch if I don’t have a split shift, and all the day-old doughnuts I can eat. Unfortunately, they make awful doughnuts.” She gave a rueful chuckle. “But it’s a lot better than nothing!”

Seating herself cross-legged on the mattress beside him, she tucked into her soup with the single-minded intensity of someone who was famished. “I was off today, though,” she added, as if in explanation.

For a while, they savored their soup in silence. What a mystery she was – beautiful, kind, self-sufficient, living on the streets, or nearly. What was her story?

Been homeless for nearly six months now.” She spoke matter-of-factly, as if he’d asked the question aloud. “Came here last spring from West Virginia with my boyfriend Hank. Hank had folks here, an uncle who swore he’d get us good paying jobs in the hospitality industry. Turns out the uncle ran a so-called strip club up on Route 1. He’d paid Hank to bring me up here. Once I saw how things were, I ditched Hank and set out on my own.”

That was brave. Why didn’t you go back to West Virginia?”

She set down her empty bowl. “Honestly? Weren’t much down there for me either, unless I wanted to marry some jerk and pop out kids. No, I figured I’d have a better chance here in the city. I didn’t realize how hard it would be, not knowing anyone. I was willing to do pretty much any kind of legal work, but with economy in the toilet and the cost of living...”

Her head bowed, her hair falling over her face. For the first time Ian heard weariness in her voice. How could he begin to understand what this girl had been through? He’d never lacked for anything – at least not anything material.

Don’t forget to visit the other bloggers joining me today. And don’t forget to count your blessings!

Friday, November 26, 2021

That was the charm of thermodynamics -- #NSFW #SciFi #EngineersInLove

It Starts With a Kiss cover

She should have said yes when he offered her a hand. She should have let him in here and sat him down. Would he be as good with gift-wrap as he was with his consoles? Or would he have just sat on the bed making smartarse remarks while she cut into the paper and ribbon?

That message would have come in. She would have let it go unanswered. Maybe she still would have spilled her cider and he’d sit there, watching while she got her kit off.

Maybe he’d offer her a hand and, this time, she’d say yes. He’d pull her top down—all the way down, not stopping at the waist. With a hand on his shoulder for support, she’d step out. She’d feel his breath on her thighs—that’s how close his face would be. Warmingly close. Awkwardly close.

Except, it wouldn’t be awkward. He’d crack a joke. She’d laugh and fire one back. They’d banter like they always did, but she’d be smooth instead of nervous. They’d collapse on the bed and he’d kiss her—softly at first, then deeply—while his hand traveled up her leg.

Celeste dropped her sodden garment on the desk and slid to the floor, remembering that time they spacewalked together to replace a row of lights. Afterwards, they changed together in the locker room. He hardly looked at her except in passing mid-chat, but she sure noticed him. That was the first time she’d seen him without a shirt on. Off had come the shellsuit, exposing his toned physique. She had no idea he worked his body so hard. He’d only gotten fitter and better looking since.

It was warm in her room now. Had the heating kicked in?

Her fingers moved between her legs while her other hand clutched at her breast. He was bigger than she was, and no doubt, his skin would feel warm on hers. That was the charm of thermodynamics. He’d lie on top and the artificial gravity would pull him into her as it pulled them both onto the bed. She’d reach for his cock and find it hard and waiting.

But he wouldn’t force it onto her. He wasn’t like that. He wasn’t forward like Martin or sexist like that guy who hit on Katie just after she started. He wasn’t sleazy like that temp or gross like Carl or a corporate bull like David Blythe. No, Owen Larson was a real, down-to-earth nice guy. If she wanted his cock inside her, she’d have to look him in the eye and ask for it.


It Starts with a Kiss by JL Peridot

Celeste is a talented engineer who doesn’t realize her job’s going nowhere fast. She’s a little naïve. She’ll cut code and solder cables forever as long as Owen’s around. Owen, on the other hand, knows exactly how badly things suck—he just doesn’t care. Sure, his skills aren’t what they used to be, but they’re still better than what Halcyon Aries deserves.

Then it happens. The company’s toxic management team finally cross the line. As both techies race to upgrade the station and to free the team from their oppressive contracts, they come to learn that life—and love—can only ever be what you make it.

Strap in for a steamy office romance in space, because sometimes It Starts With a Kiss!

Available now from e-book retailers.

Content warnings: Depictions of toxic office management practices, workplace harassment, and harassment in a customer service context. Depictions of workplace romance (with consent). Strong language. Explicit sexual content including self-pleasure and MF sex.

Reviews & Praise

A perfect mix of romcom, romance, and sci-fi.” (Goodreads 5-star review)

The scifi elements feel real, I'd say especially to anyone that's worked in IT, and the romance and suspense ebbs and flows so nicely. Really gorgeous and fun, really recommended.” (Goodreads 5-star review)

JL didn't create characters, she wrote real people. That's how they read on the page and I loved it.” (Goodreads 5-star review)

About JL Peridot

JL Peridot (sometimes credited as J.L. Peridot) writes love letters to the future on devices from the past. In her spare time, she nerds out over cryptic crosswords, calisthenics, and mechanical keyboards. She currently resides in Boorloo (Perth, Australia) on Whadjuk Noongar country.

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



Thank you, Lisabet, for having me on your blog 💜

Thursday, November 25, 2021

Shopping for A CEO’s Honeymoon by Julia Kent is FREE November 10-30! (@jkentauthor) #RomCom #FreeBook

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Free November 10-30, 2021

Whispersync the audio on Amazon for $7.49



He says we never had a proper honeymoon.

So, instead, he’s giving me… a prepper honeymoon?

Who knew billionaire preppers were a thing?

I guess I’m about to find out.

Julia Kent’s New York Times bestselling romantic comedy series continues in Shopping for a CEO’s Honeymoon as Andrew and Amanda settle in to married life… and so much more.

Buy links

Google Play:
Apple Books:
Amazon ALL:




Audiobook narrated by Sebastian York and Amy McFadden



Amazon Audible:




It’s Monday.

Our home looks like the set for Extreme Home Makeover, except there’s no bus to move and all of the workmen act like I’m invisible as I wander downstairs after waking up naked in an empty bed.

I throw on clothes and am down the stairs when I spot my husband.

What is going on?” I ask Andrew, who is huddled over blueprints with some guy who looks like he runs a union hall in South Boston. Tight eyes, distrustful look, goatee, and an intensity that makes it clear you want him on your side.

Andrew breaks away, kisses my cheek, and gives me a saucy half grin. “Just like you wanted. Here we go.”

Here we go what? We barely talked about what we wanted!”

We did,” he says, suddenly defensive. “In bed,” he whispers.

What I want in bed has nothing to do with tile colors and three-season sunrooms!” I say.


The guys aren’t working on anything like that,” he hisses as a few workmen suppress smiles. “We’re putting in new backup systems.”

Backups for what?”

Power outages. Acts of God. Hurricanes. Bomb cyclones that leave six feet of snow.”

I snort. “What, no alien contingency plan? Got a blueprint for a universal extraterrestrial language translator in there?”

Andrew reddens and avoids eye contact.

I frown. “Andrew?” I grab his arm and pull him aside, his muscles tense. “What are you doing? This isn’t how I envisioned remodeling and spending our honeymoon. For one, we didn’t have sex that second time this morning.”

He looks at the clock. “It’s only 7:53. Plenty of time for that.” He grabs me at the waist and pulls me close, trying to divert me with a kiss.

It works.

We’ve got the geothermal heat unit figured out, and when we redo the gutter system and the roof, in addition to the solar panels, we’ve got an evaporation system set up for clean water collection. Storage is next,” he says to me.

All that in the first hour of work?” I’m stunned.

I’m efficient. Two weeks of my focused attention is like five years of a normal human being’s time.”

Efficient and humble. I love that in a man.”

You’d better, because you’re stuck with me forever.”

Is that a threat or a promise?”

I get a pat on the ass in response.

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 1.5 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 16 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French and German, with more titles releasing soon. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three children in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.

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Freebie blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Wednesday, November 24, 2021

Abundance – #Gratitude #Giveaway #Thanksgiving


 Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

The holidays have snuck up on me. Between working at my new job and finishing my latest novel, I haven’t have time to prepare anything special for today. But never mind. All one really needs for Thanksgiving is an open heart and a consciousness of one’s blessings.

I’m incredibly grateful today. I’m almost fully recovered from my broken arm and surgery; in fact, I’ve recently started my swimming regimen again, which is both a psychological boost and a physical boon. My forced retirement has led to new employment which is in fact a much better fit to my abilities and personality. My husband is a treasure, a beloved companion as well as a practical helpmate. So far I’ve dodged the Covid bullet, and meanwhile, the pandemic has paradoxically brought me much closer to many friends and family. One can joke about Zoom, but when you live half a world away from people you care about, it’s yet another gift.

As for my writing – there are few things that bring me so much joy. I'm really excited about my new novel, The Journeyman's Trial, which I hope to release in a few weeks. And I truly appreciate you, my readers and fans. Some of you have been on my email list for a decade. Thank you for sticking with me!

As a small token of my gratitude, I have a Thanksgiving gift for you all. I’ll give a free copy of one of my holiday stories to anyone who leaves me a comment with your email address (obfuscated is fine). Let me know in your comment which one you’d prefer: Gray Christmas (mature holiday erotic romance), Cherry Pie and Mistletoe (ditto) or Santa, Baby! (lighthearted holiday erotica).

Thank you!

Tuesday, November 23, 2021

This coming Sunday, the 28th of November, is Charity Sunday -- #CharitySundaySignup #Altruism #BlogHop

Be Amazing
 Image by Markus Winkler from Pixabay

Charity Sunday is a meme designed to give authors and bloggers a chance to give back to the world—as well as, hopefully, to attract new readers.

How does it work? Each participant selects a favorite charity. Before Charity Sunday, you should prepare a blog post that: 1) talks about the charity and why you support it; 2) provides a link to the charity; 3) includes an excerpt from one of your books; 4) includes the code to show links to other participating blogs.

It’s fun if you can make the excerpt relate somehow to your chosen charity, but this isn’t required.

For every comment left on your post, you commit to giving some amount to the relevant charity. The specific charity and the amount to donate are up to you. You can set an upper limit to your donation if you want.

If you’d like to participate in the next Charity Sunday, just sign up using the Linky List below. Please be sure that the link you enter will lead directly to your Charity Sunday post, not just to the home page of your blog.

For more detailed instructions, go here:

You can get my
2021 Charity Sunday banner from here.

For an example
post, check out this link from my last Charity Sunday:

Monday, November 22, 2021

From the heart – #Poetry #LGBTQ #Giveaway @IzzyS97

Can't think straight cover

I’m delighted today to be hosting fellow poetess Isabel Scheck. I thought you might enjoy something a bit different.

Oh, and Isabel has a giveaway to thank you for reading. See the end of this post!


A collection of 35 poems in which a poet thinks about women a little too much... (Sapphic poetry)

Poem no. 30: She’s Captured My Heart

My feelings for her rattle in my heart and spill over into my ribcage like thunder in my chest.

Her laughter sounds soft;
like rose petals and scented candles.

When she glances my way the butterflies
shoot through my heart, puncturing my lungs. Her pretty eyes are all I look for in others.

My feelings for her climb in my heart like
ivy getting stuck in every crevice of my ribcage. Her tattoos have captured my attention
and so has her lovely personality.

About the Author

Isabel is a self-published author and artist who comes from England, but lives in Switzerland. She works with children, which she adores, but she also loves to write; especially in the genres of fantasy, poetry and romance. She uses experiences and images as inspiration to create words. Isabel also loves to express herself by drawing.





Lulu spotlight for all of my books:

Buy Link

Isabel Scheck will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, November 21, 2021

Suddenly, I’m available -- Shopping for a Turkey by Julia Kent (@jkentauthor) #romcom #holidayromance

Shopping for a Turkey banner

I don’t understand Americans.

Or, as we say in Scotland, I dinna understand ye eedjits.

And I definitely dinna understand the crazy mother-in-law of my cousin Declan. Who in their right mind names a wee dog Chuffy?

I’m stuck in New York after ma agent makes a bloody mess of an otherwise good endorsement contract for a sports towel company, and this crazy American holiday–Thanksgiving–is in two days.

The invitation to spend it in Mendon, Massachusetts, with the Jacoby family is about as appealing as rotten haggis. As far as I can tell, Thanksgiving is about stuffing yerself silly, watching pathetic American “football,” while fighting with relatives ye only see once a year.

If I wanted that last one, I’d head back to Scotland, where we dinna need a holiday to be salty to each other.

Ma firm answer is nae.

Until I remember Amy is part of the family.

Suddenly, I’m available.

Eager, even. Perhaps she’ll pull ma wishbone. I hear that’s part of the Turkey Day festivities, aye?

What I canna admit, though, is how she pulls ma heartstrings, too.

Which shouldna feel better than the wishbone, but it does.

And here comes Amy's mother with another holiday tradition, this one a bit early.

A sprig o’ mistletoe, dangling right above Amy’s bonnie head.


Shopping for a Turkey (Shopping for a Billionaire, Book 18) features Scottish football player Hamish McCormick and Amy Jacoby as they navigate unusual cultural norms, new traditions, and the undeniable attraction between these two characters, who have appeared as supporting players in Julia Kent's New York Times-bestselling Shopping series.

It's their turn to have their own all-new spinoff series. And to pull the wishbone. ;)

Buy Links

Amazon (all countries):

Apple Books:



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My attention wanders to the back yard. I watch Hamish doing sprint after sprint, over and over, each one as enthusiastically brutal as the last. His legs are a work of art. I'll give him that.

Soccer player legs are a thing. Tree trunks in muscled form, they're huge and powerful, developed by years of daily footwork and bold runs. He's a cocky jerk, but a premier player like Hamish doesn't get to his level without a crushing amount of hard body work.

He just keeps going, sprint after sprint, ignoring the dripping sweat, until he stops to drink, then...

Starts again.

My boots are by the front door, so I pass Dad and Declan, who are laughing together about James being a sophisticated older man. Massachusetts winters mean the heavy boots come out in late October. I'm fine without a coat today, my sweats warm enough, but no way will I head out there bootless.

The yard gets plenty of sun, so the ground he's running on is tan, dead grass, but there’s a perimeter of snow at the base of the fence, where it’s always in the shade. It's cold enough for the top layer of dirt to be frozen, but the terrain is uneven.

Nothing like a soccer field.

It's not flat like the fields you're used to playing on,” I call out from a small spot of clear concrete on the patio.


Excuse me? Did you just call me a bitch?”

That makes him stop, brow down, sweat dripping from copper-colored ringlets, true horror in his eyes. “What? Nae! I said pitch. With a P.”

What's a pitch?”

A field. A soccer field.” He says soccer the way I say, well...

His name.

Dripping with sarcasm.

Are you capable of having a single conversation with me that doesn't involve insults or sex?”

I was about to ask ye the same, Amy.”


About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 1.5 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 16 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French and German, with more titles releasing soon. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three children in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.

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Amazon Author Page:

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.