Showing posts with label romance excerpts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance excerpts. Show all posts

Friday, December 01, 2017

Losing Who--Book 3 in the Loving Who series now available!


Losing Who
http://www.devinedestinies.com/losing-who/
(Book Three in the Loving Who series)



Cici Connors is losing her mind—or is she? She has vague memories of living another life where she time traveled and explored the universe accompanied by an alien with psychic abilities, but these memories can't be real, can they? Losing her job doesn't make her life any easier, so Cici decides it's time to grow up and give up Doctor Who fandom once and for all.


Alien time traveler John Smith had to leave Cici on Earth for the sake of clearing up Earth's muddy timeline. Now he vows to return to his adopted world--and return Cici's memories as well. But nothing is ever easy or simple where John is concerned. With the aid of his alien partners-in-crime, Captain Mac and Babbling Brook, John devises a clever plan to gain Cici's attention. Will hiring Cici to run John's sci-fi convention attract another invasion of Earth by artificially intelligent life forms? 

Excerpt--Cici and John Smith meet again, but she doesn't recognize him...



Cici blinked twice and took a long, shaky breath. Out of nowhere a rescuer had rushed to her side and helped her to her feet. The gentleman stood tall and thin with bright blue-gray eyes and a distinguished touch of silver in his graying blond hair. If she wasn’t mistaken, he had the most charming Scots accent. She gazed up into his questioning face and felt a connection. Had they met somewhere before? Odd, but she somehow thought they had. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember where or when.


“Y-yes, I’m fine,” she sputtered. “Just a bit breathless. Thank you.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome.”

She took a step forward and felt a sharp stab of pain in her right ankle. “Ow!”

“You’re injured. Here.” He took her hand and placed it on his forearm. “Lean on me.”

“You're so very kind.” 

“Really?” His silver eyebrows arched, and his eyes widened. “There’s a first time for everything.”

Cici did her best not to grimace as they hobbled together toward one of the few benches located along the trail. Her rescuer helped her to sit and then knelt in front of her foot to check for damage.

“You’re not a doctor, are you?” she asked, trying to make light conversation as the stranger gently manipulated her injured ankle.

A doctor?” He smiled. “Funny you should say that, but some people do think I resemble one. Does this hurt?” He pressed along the side of her arch.

“Ow!” She winced. “Not too much. After the shock wears off in a few minutes I’ll probably be fine.”

“That’s a good sign when you can handle shock well. How about this?” He pushed her foot upward, her toes pointing toward her body. 

Cici bit her lip hard to hold back a scream. She saw stars and almost passed out from the pain. “Yep. It hurts. Lots.”

“I thought it might. It’s more than likely a sprain, but you might want to get it x-rayed to check for broken bones.”

“I can’t afford the x-ray, so we’ll go with the sprain, shall we?” Her new companion didn’t seem to get her dark sense of humor. His eyes bulged in his long face as he considered her reaction. “What’s wrong? Have I grown a horn in the middle of my forehead, or am I turning a particularly sickening shade of green?”

He smiled. He got it. “More pale than green, and the horn quite suits you. I like horns.”

“That’s good. I wouldn’t want to scare you off so easily.” Did I say that out loud? Get a grip! Flirting when you’re unemployed isn’t a good thing. You can’t afford new clothes and make-up to keep him interested.

“Don’t worry. I don’t scare easily.” Her savior stood and looked at her, thoughtfully rubbing the lapels of his navy jacket. “We just passed an access parking lot, but unfortunately I don’t have a car to take you home in to recuperate. What could we use to get you home without causing further pain?”

“Too bad we don’t have a little red wagon or a rickshaw handy,” she suggested.

“That’s a good idea. Very good indeed.” He spun on his heels and disappeared into thin air as quickly as he had appeared originally.


Cici blinked twice. Her tall and handsome Scotsman, in a rather dashing red-lined navy blue suit with a buttoned-up white shirt, had simply vanished. Just my luck. She waved at where he’d once stood. “Uh, thanks again for your help.”


What to do now? She took several deep breaths and tried to prepare herself for the hobble home up the trail. Perhaps she could find a tree branch strong enough to hold her wait while she limped? Unfortunately for her, it appeared the county parks’ groundskeepers had recently been in the area to mow and pick up fallen branches along the trail. Her luck this week had gone from bad to worse to dismal. Go figure.

“There’s nothing for it. Cowboy up, Connors.” With a groan of determination, Cici rose to her feet. “Ye-ow! Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot…”

She had barely made it a yard before the distinguished Scotsman reappeared behind her.

“Hold it right there,” he commanded. “We’ve got to fit you into this contraption.”

Cici stared until she thought her eyes would pop out of her head. Was it really a rickshaw? “W-where on Earth did you get that?”

He frowned and scratched his head. “On Earth? Well, you could say a friend in China owed me a favor, so he let me borrow it.”

“A friend from China, you mean?”

“Yes, of course. That’s what I meant. From China. It is, in fact, an antique Chinese rickshaw.” He lay the cross piece down and stepped over it to help her. “All aboard.”
 


Losing Who is now available from Devine Destinies Books, Amazon (in print and Kindle format) and wherever fine books are sold online. And don't forget to check out books 1 and 2, Loving Who and Leaving Who, while you're at it.

Monday, February 16, 2015

Please join my new e-newsletter mailing list


 Because I miss creating and sending out my monthly e-newsletter full of  my latest book release news, excerpts, contest events, Q & A for writers and other fun stuff, I've started a new mailing list with the very cool MailChimp program. SORMAG publisher and all-around promo-diva, LaShaunda Hoffman, informs me this is the way to go nowadays to connect with readers. And if the smart and savvy LaShaunda says it works, I believe her! ;-) So, please sign up below and feel free to tell your friends, too. Thank you.

Subscribe to my "Triple C" mailing list today!

* indicates required
Powered by MailChimp

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Driving in England now available from Devine Destinies Books

It's a first! My husband and I wrote a book together, and here's an excerpt from it as well as the purchase link. Feel free to share the news with other readers of contemporary romance. Thank you!


Driving in England 

http://www.devinedestinies.com/Driving-in-England/
 
by Cynthianna and  A J Matthews

Susannah Koenig travels to England on an urgent mission to discover her boss’s relatives. Duncan Balfour, a renowned genealogist, doesn’t think he’d like to meet the woman who nags him online for help. Then he realizes he is the long lost relative Susannah’s boss is desperately searching for. Once the pair meet, they can’t deny their mutual attraction, but Duncan can’t help lying to her to protect his family’s reputation. Can Susannah pierce Duncan’s armor to find the loving man within and reveal the truth that could save a life?


From Chapter One, an excerpt from Driving in England:


“Oh. My. God.”
    Susannah Koenig smothered a laugh behind a hand, staring at the headline splashed across her laptop’s screen. Unfrocked Vicar Eaten by Lion! She couldn’t believe her eyes. That kind of thing only happened in the movies or on some poorly written sit-coms—not in real life—and most certainly not in some staid English village circa 1932.
    She rose from the sofa and walked away from the coffee table littered with the remains of half-eaten bagels, dusty genealogy volumes, and various papers she’d gathered over the past two weeks. There’s no way on earth I can tell the boss about his ancestor, the unfrocked vicar who was consumed by a large beast of prey. No way. I value my job too much.
    But what could she do? Harold Spalding paid her good money to graph out his family tree in minute detail. How could she avoid mentioning the former Reverend Titus Spalding, a man accused of sexual misconduct who was stupid enough to stick his head in a lion’s gaping jaws?
    “I can’t believe this.” She switched on the kitchen light and began automatically stacking dishes into the dishwasher. “Who in his right mind would knowingly walk into a lion’s cage at a circus to prove his innocence? In the twentieth century no less! The man was a first class idiot!”
    Shit! The sudden realization of the horrible revelation hit her hard in the stomach. She gulped and put down the dish she was stacking. I can’t tell Mr. Spalding that he had a complete lunatic for a grandfather. It’ll kill him.
    And then she’d be out of a job.
    A very good position with responsibility and prestige, one that she had slaved and suffered long enough to land... Women hit the glass ceiling in the good ol’ boy oil industry all the time, so Susannah felt rightfully proud of her accomplishment, even if it had taken many years and more than a few gray hairs. Nothing was going to stand in her way of keeping her job until they forced her into retirement. Nothing.
    “Damned if I do—damned if I don’t.” Susannah sighed. She could think of only one thing to get herself out of this dilemma. She needed help—professional help. She’d have to email that stuffy, stick-up-his-ass Duncan Balfour and ask for his assistance once again. Maybe the genealogist par excellence could find some other worthy tidbits of information about the crazy vicar, suggest some way to sweeten the news, to make it more palatable for her boss to swallow?
    “If I’m lucky, there might be two Reverend Titus Spaldings in England, and the boss is related to the more normal fella. Please, Lord, let that be the case!”
    Swallowing her pride, and a few dry crumbs of bagel, she headed back to her laptop to email the uptight Brit.
     
    Dear Mr. Balfour:
    I’m in need of your assistance. I’m working on a genealogy project on behalf of my employer, Harold Spalding, and may have discovered a link in his family tree to a Reverend Titus Spalding of Understrand, Norfolk County, England. As I recall reading online, you’re a resident of the area. Could you check your own and local sources to enlighten me as to the true character of this individual? Could his name have been confused with any others of same or similar name? Your help in the past has been most appreciated, and I thank you in advance for this undertaking.
    All the best,
    Susannah Koenig
     
    Tapping send, she glanced at the computer clock. Britain was six hours ahead of Texas, so Balfour would receive her missive first thing in the morning local time. Good enough. She’d check her email in the morning to see if the priggish academic felt her request for information worthy of an immediate reply.
    Give the devil his due, Balfour always replies in a timely manner with hard factual material, even if his tone is patronizing. But somehow, Susannah got the impression the man found addressing a lowly American amateur beneath his dignity. Hadn’t she paid his fees promptly? Hadn’t she been businesslike and fair in all her dealings with the man?
    Glass ceilings existed everywhere—in business, in genealogy circles, in life in general. In spite of the odds, she had marched forward, throwing herself against the walls of prejudice erected to keep women in their place, particularly women of a certain age as she had been labeled in the past few years. Her success had been hard won and all of her own doing. No silver spoons were ever placed in her mouth!
    Susannah rolled her eyes heavenwards as she rose from the sofa. Some people! It’s like they don’t know what it’s like to earn a living. Spalding Oilfield Solutions paid her good money, and the chance to advance offered by the boss’s interest in her family tree hobby had been too good to ignore. She headed back to the kitchen to finish filling the dishwasher and sighed. “I just wish I didn’t have to depend on some old-money, snobby jackass I’ve never met in the flesh to get me through this rough patch.”


Driving in England
http://www.devinedestinies.com/Driving-in-England/

now available at Devine Destinies Books.

Saturday, September 27, 2014

My Sexy Saturday Post from a W.I.P.

 
Deep in an English wood...


What's a W.I.P. you ask? Simply it's a "work in progress" and this time around I've decided to post seven sexy paragraphs from our current work in progress entitled Driving in England. I say "our" because this is story was written by me and my husband, the talented A.J. Matthews. Right now, it's tentatively scheduled for a January 2015 release from Devine Destinies, so if you like this excerpt more be coming soon! In the meantime, be sure to check out my other mainstream romantic fiction at www.cynthianna.com


A brief synopsis: Susannah, a woman of a certain age, travels to England on behalf of her boss, a rich oil tycoon, to do a little snooping into his family tree. What she doesn't count on is butting heads and then falling for the handsome genealogist Duncan Balfour. 

Excerpt set-up: Who says older lovers can't have as much fun as younger ones, especially when it's a warm day and an empty forest meadow beckons? ;)


Oh, my!” Susannah shot him a glance that covered his body from face to bulging pants. Her face looked pink. “We’re like a couple of teenagers.”

Duncan thought of something. “Let’s get past Norwich. Thetford’s not too far down the road.” 


“What’s in Thetford?”


“It’s not what’s in Thetford, it’s what’s around it.” When she looked blank he smiled. “Thetford Forest. There are a number of trails running through it. We can find one and be... private for a few minutes.”


She chuckled. “You wanna do it outside? Hmm, Duncan, what a naughty boy you are!” 


“But you like the idea?”


She nodded. “Oh, I like.”



Enjoy the rest of your Sexy Saturday blog hop!
http://mysexysaturday.blogspot.com




Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Another Excerpt from Preachin' to the Choir

Happy Valentine's Day! Have you ever experienced a time when you wanted to to tell someone how much you liked them but dared not? Kat finds herself in this quandry in this scene from my latest contemporary romance... Enjoy!




Preachin' to the Choir 
by Cynthianna

A love story of "heavenly" proportions! Jonathan is preachin' to the choir, but will pretty choir director Kat let him? 

Available in all e-formats at Mojocastle Press:
 http://www.mojocastle.com/preachin-to-the-choir.html





In this excerpt, Kat goes jogging to get away from her thoughts about Jonathan, but somehow she can’t escape them...

“Get over it,” Kat muttered as she jogged across the field toward the entrance of the walking trail. Nestled in a small valley along scenic limestone ledges in a grove of live oak and ash juniper, the track
had quickly become the favorite pathway for pedestrians. She fell into an easy loping stride and allowed her mind to wander.

Tuesday’s piano lesson had had a mesmerizing effect on Kat. The feel of Jonathan’s arms around her waist, his hands touching hers, his breath warm and sensuous against her neck... She shuddered. Here it
was ninety-plus degrees, and she was actually shivering. Shivering with desire at the recollection of how Jonathan had made her feel Tuesday evening.

No man had ever made her feel so keenly aware of her body’s responses Kat realized, not Dirk, not B.B.not anyone. What was it about Jonathan that made her feel so alive? She had never seen Jonathan Rawlins in such a light before. Now he was practically all she could think of.

Kat halted and grabbed her knees, gasping for breath, at the first park bench located a dozen yards along the trail. God should strike me dead for such wicked thoughts, she moaned inwardly. She was lusting after
a man who was still mourning his late wife, his late wife who was a saint by anyone’s standards, and was still sorely missed by one and all. She should feel ashamed of herself. Really she should.

Yet, somehow, she didn’t.

Kat started jogging again. The exercise would purge her of these impure thoughts or at least make her too tired to act on them.

“You know, it wouldn’t be too forward of me to ask him over for dinner some night,” she reasoned aloud. “I could just tell him I wanted to make sure he was eating right.”

You could tell him that he’d never have to eat another meal alone. Ever.

Kat gulped and blinked hard, hastening her pace. Good Lord, her estrogen levels must be completely whacked. She was acting like a silly teenager who harbored a secret crush on her teacher. She was
fantasizing about becoming Jonathan Rawlins’s main squeeze.

“I’ve got to get over this.”

Kat tilted her head back and let the rays of dying sunlight streaming through the trees bathe her face with their warmth. She focused her concentration back into the tempo of her footsteps falling on the
path... Right, left, right, left, right, left... Up, down, up, down over the rolling hillsides...

Her breathing slowed. Presently, she felt a calming blanket of sanity wrap itself around her raging hormones. Her mind began to solve her present dilemma. It was all so simple. She was an adult—he was an adult. Two adults having the occasional dinner together was a perfectly natural, perfectly wholesome activity. Hadn’t he invited her out to eat
once before? She could say she was returning the favor. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of.

“Look out!” a familiar male voice shouted, rousing her from her daydreaming, but it was too late.

Kat tumbled top over bottom over the large, man-shaped obstruction in her path. Sliding and tumbling in an unladylike jumble of limbs and legs among the carpet of woodchips, only to land spread-eagle on her
well-bruised backside.

“Kat? Are you all right?”

Jonathan’s voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere near her right temple, but Kat couldn’t be too sure. Was she hallucinating? After all, hadn’t she been thinking about Jonathan a moment before she
fell?

A large hand tenderly caressed her cheek. “Kat? Speak to me, please.”

Kat slowly opened her eyes and looked to her right. Jonathan Rawlins’ face hovered mere inches from her own.



Preachin' to the Choir is now available at Mojocastle Press
http://www.mojocastle.com/preachin-to-the-choir.html

Available at All Romance eBooks
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-preachin039tothechoir-1404592-149.html

Available at Amazon
www.amazon.com/Preachin-Choir-Cynthianna-ebook/dp/B00I115J3I/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1391552292&sr=1-1&keywords=Preachin'+to+the+choir

Saturday, January 18, 2014

An Excerpt from Preachin' to the Choir

Preachin’ to the Choir
by Cynthianna
Available at Mojocastle Press

Jonathan could do nothing to aid his wife’s losing battle with cancer. With twenty years into the ministry, he can’t believe the Lord would leave him suddenly with both an empty nest and empty spot on the other side of the bed. 

Katrina, music teacher and mother of grown twins, feels settled in small town Texas. Life may be dull, but at least it’s predictable–unlike her life with her late ex-husband. “Kat” has come to the conclusion that if nuns can live celibate for years, then why can’t she make it the next fifty? 

One Sunday Jonathan sees a golden beam alighting upon a radiant Kat as she directs the singers. He hadn’t noticed how beautiful she was before! From here on out he knows that he’ll be preachin’ to the choir. But will Kat—and his congregation—let him? 

Excerpt: Kat tries to give a piano lesson to Jonathan, but everything seems to go wrong…

Kat caught herself the second before she practically threw herself into Jonathan’s lap. What the heck got into her? Was she openly flirting with her student? For some unknown reason the room had become stifling hot. She reached to open the top button of her blouse, then thought the better of it.

“Excuse me a second. I need to go check the A/C. Why don’t you go over the same measure again and try to make the notes sound more even, more connected this time.”

Kat dashed straight to the kitchen, where she promptly gulped down a large glass of water. Had it been the touch of Jonathan’s hands as they met hers, or the way he had looked deep into her eyes, like he could read her mind, that had affected her so?

Maybe this was all something hormonal? Her doctor did tell her the last time she came in for a Pap test to be on the look-out for hot flashes. More than likely the heat she felt pulsing through her frame, lingering a little longer than necessary in her belly, was simply caused by a power surge blanking her programmed thermostat and shutting down the air conditioning. She went into the hall, hit a few buttons and checked the read-out on the climate control panel. Funny, it seemed to be doing its job.

Rubbing the cold glass against her warm forehead, Kat intently listened to Jonathan’s playing in the next room. It sounded like he was trying to pick out the melody of Amazing Grace.

“You didn’t tell me that you could play by ear!”

Jonathan started at her entrance, but continued with his hunting and pecking. “No, I’m just using my fingers like I do on a keyboard. It’s not the most efficient way to play a piano, I’ve discovered.”

“You got that right. It does help, though, if you have some notion as to how the song you want to play goes already.” She crossed to stand beside the piano once more and waited patiently as he finished his impromptu concert. “There’s a beginner’s book of favorite hymns I think you’ll want to get. After a few pointers on how to read the music, you’ll be able to play a more recognizable version of Amazing Grace before you know it.”

His eyes widened. “You could tell what I was trying to plunk out?”

“If I can tell someone’s playing Mary Had a Little Lamb while missing practically every note, then I certainly can make out what you were attempting to play.”

“I’m that good, huh?”

Kat felt drawn to him like a magnet to steel. Her gaze settled on Jonathan’s full lips as he spoke. Would their touch be as electrifying as the feel of his fingers sliding over hers across the keyboard? “Good?” She blinked twice to break the warm, damp fog settling in her brain. She really needed to finish her nap. That explained it. She was sleep deprived. “Yes, I think you play quite well.”

Kat’s eyes drifted toward Jonathan’s lips again, then lower. Six foot three with hands that could easily reach twelve keys and possessed an almost magnetic touch… What kinds of things could he do with those hands?

Kat nervously pounced on the stack of sheet music Jonathan brought to the lesson. “Um, would you like me to play the version you brought?”

“Please do.” 

She sorted out the copy from the others and opened it across the music stand. “Sorry, but we need to switch places. I need to sit where you’re sitting in order to play properly.”

Jonathan stood and side-stepped over to the left to give her access to his stool. Kat flashed him a grin in gratitude and sat down without looking. Immediately she found herself deposited on her rear end. “Ouch!” she cried, rubbing her bruised tailbone. “I missed.”

“You seem to be doing quite a bit of falling on your backside lately.” Jonathan chuckled. Placing his large hands under her arms, he lifted her to her feet in one easy motion. “There you go. You all right?”

“I… I’m fine,” she managed, taking a step back. The warmth of where his palms contacted her bare flesh lingered, sending tingles of awareness down her arms. “I just need to adjust the height a little.”
Kat bent to twirl the stool in order to raise the seat. To her horror, it stuck.

Jonathan grimaced. “Did I break it? I apologize if I did.”

She straightened slowly and shook her head. “Don’t worry. It isn’t broken. It probably needs to be greased a bit. Why don’t we try relocating the bench?”

Jonathan swiftly removed the stool. Kat grabbed the bench and started dragging it into position. Without a word, both promptly seated themselves side by side, thighs touching.

Kat shuddered inwardly at the delicious sensation of Jonathan’s near presence. This isn’t the appropriate time or place for playing footsies, but wouldn’t it be nice sometime? Swallowing hard, Kat focused her attention on the music.

Just as she was about to turn to the first page over, there came a small moan of wood, then snap! The wounded bench decided it couldn’t handle their combined weight any longer. A back leg collapsed. The seat tilted left, throwing her against Jonathan’s hard body as they tumbled to the floor.

Preachin’ to the Choir now available in e-formats from Mojocastle Press and All Romance eBooks.

Wednesday, January 02, 2013

Starting 2013 off right with a Liebster Blog Award



I received this nomination for the Liebster Blog Award from AJ Matthews and his AJ's Wargames Table blog. Thanks, AJ, my biggest supporter and bestest friend ever! ;)

Now, by the rules, I must nominate five others for the award. In no particular order they are:

1.)  The Log Line Blog -- Lynn Crain has put together a wonderful promo blog for her fellow authors. Short and sweet, your log line will sell your book!

2.) MFRW Authors Blog -- A great group of great romantic fiction authors.

3.) Paranormal Cravings -- Whenever you have an urge to read about vampires, werewolves and shapeshifters, this is the blog for you!

4.) Romance Excerpts Only -- To get in the mood, exactly the blog to check out for inspiration!

5.) Unstoppable Heroes -- Author Kayelle Allen shares writing tips, her new releases and other fun stuff.

My thanks again to AJ for the nomination. Here are the rules to follow if you're nominated:

Copy and paste the award on your blog linking it to the blogger who has given it to you. Pass the award to your top 5 favorite blogs with fewer than 200 followers by leaving a comment on one of their posts to notify them that they have won the award and listing them on your blog.

Sit back and bask in that warm fuzzy feeling that comes with knowing you’ve just made someone’s day!
google-site-verification: googlec9fe367ac800d499.html