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Only $0.99 For A Funny, Sexy Wedding Story-Scoop It Up!

The first book in my Chicago Aisle Bound wedding series, Planning for Love,is on massive sale-only $0.99! Here's a blurb to tell you what it's all about: 

Hopeless romantic Ivy Rhodesand
 Bennett Westcott
request the pleasure of your company for
their disaster of a courtship

Wedding planner Ivy Rhodes is the best in the business, and she's not about to let a personal problem stop her from getting ahead. So when she's asked to star in the reality TV show Planning for Love, it doesn't matter that the show's videographer happens to be a recent--and heartbreaking--one-night stand.

Bennett Westcott admits he didn't handle his encounter with Ivy very well. But looking at her beautiful smile--and great body--through a camera lens every day? He can't be faulted for suggesting they have some no-strings fun.

The more time they spend together, the more Ben realizes Ivy isn't the wedding-crazed bridezilla he'd imagined. But if he doesn't trust himself to make a relationship last, how can he convince Ivy to give him another chance?

Carina Press:
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This book is funny, sexy, and sweet.  I promise!  And you don't have to take my word for it - Publisher's Weekly and RT Book Reviews have already raved about it.  So if you want to snap up a great beach read (or have something to pick up your spirits if you aren't headed to the beach), this is your chance.  Please dig in, enjoy a few giggles, a few heart-stoppingly sexy scenes, and a lot of romance. 

“I want to taste you, Ivy.” The scrape of his feet against the stones came to a halt. A gentle nudge with his forehead tipped her head back. Their eyes locked. “Why don’t we get a jump on the inevitable? Because I don’t want to wait another moment.”
Ivy had a split second to decide. Stick to her guns—and her professional ethics—and slip out of his arms? Or stay and lock lips with a super sexy man in the moonlight? Really, it was easiest to not decide at all. Her eyelids drifted shut as she waited for Ben to make his move. And waited. Nothing happened. She peeked out from beneath her lashes to see the merest hint of a smirk lifting the edges of Ben’s mouth. Her eyes flew open the rest of the way.
“What? What happened to the tasting and the moment?”
“The moment’s not right until you decide to commit to it. I promised earlier I wouldn’t steal any more kisses from you. Kissing is interactive. A two-way street. You’ve got to choose to slide behind the wheel and turn the key.”
Why did men turn everything in life into a car metaphor? Well, she could play along. Despite showing every sign of being something of a player, Ben had shown her, with that one little pause, that he also had bucket loads of integrity. No sane, single woman could turn down an honest to goodness gentleman. They were a rare breed, and she didn’t intend to waste this particular chance sighting. Time to seize the day...or at least what was left of the night.
“Oh, my motor’s fully revved. You’d better buckle your seatbelt, Mr. Westcott.”
Ivy tightened her grip around his neck and went up on her tiptoes to reach his mouth. The mouth she’d stared at off and on all day, remembering the firm albeit brief feel of his lips against hers. He wasn’t the only one who wanted a taste. She puckered up and planted a soft kiss. And then Ben quite expertly elbowed his way back into the driver’s seat.
His lips slanted hard across hers, instantly ratcheting the level of heat up from tender to full on sizzle. This was no getting-to-know-you smooch. Ben claimed her mouth with possessive pressure. His teeth nibbled open her lips, allowing his tongue to sweep inside. Her moan of pleasure was all the urging he needed to slide his hands down to not only cup her ass, but lift her off the ground.
Ivy’s world spun. Under the spell of the spring night, she’d yearned for nothing more than a touch, a quiet kiss. She’d wanted a sip of water to slake her lustful thirst. Instead, Ben’s kisses drowned her in a downpour of passion and heat. The arch of her foot curved around his calf, looking for something to ground her. Each stroke of his tongue ignited an array of sparks behind her closed eyes. He tore his mouth away but hovered his lips a breath away from hers. Eyes heavy lidded, he moved not at all, aside from the pounding of his heart thumping through his tuxedo shirt. Suddenly, she realized what he waited to hear.
“Okay, Ben. You’ve convinced me to have a drink with you.”
A hum of approval sounded low in his throat. He buried his face in the curve of her neck. And then from somewhere behind them, a short high gasp, and the unmistakable crash of glass breaking on the stone floor. Ben’s grip bobbled, but he didn’t drop her.
“Get your hands off my friend’s ass right now, or I’ll call in someone a lot bigger than me to make you.”

Release Day for a New #Highlander Series!

What is so sexy about Highlanders? Aside from the flash of a brawny thigh beneath a kilt and the swoon-worthy knowledge of how well they handle their sword? Well, just read the start to the all new Conquered Brides series by the queen of all things Highlander!

A hero determined to have it all...

After losing his betrothed to a Lowlander, Laird Gabriel MacKinnon is charged with saving her cousin along with a brood of children from an impenetrable castle. Though, the lady he’s been tasked to protect has been accused of a heinous crime, Gabriel has no fear of her. In fact, he’s a little irritated at the prospect of delivering her to her kin. But this hardened, cold warrior just may find his heart melting, for the hellion brings out a passionate side he’d thought long buried.

A lady who will stop at nothing to see him fail...

Lady Brenna has had more than her share of hardships and when freedom looks to be on the brink of her horizon, she’s not about to let some moody Highlander take it all away. She’ll stop at nothing to keep her children safe—and to guard her heart—even though the warrior’s heated kiss threatens to change every vow she’s ever made and every belief about love she’s ever known.




The handle jiggled again and Brenna heard the scrape of metal on the lock. Snow growled low in her throat, ears perked, eyes flicking from the handle to Brenna’s face.
A curse sounded along with the scratching of metal and then finally there was an audible click. Brenna bounced away from the door, giving a quick glance at Theo before the door banged open hiding him from view.
A stranger stood in the doorway, taking up the entire expanse. Shoulders as wide as the door frame, and just as tall, he glowered down at her with haunting blue eyes. Behind him she could hear the shuffling of someone else, but she couldn’t see him other than to recognize his plaid was not MacLeod, and neither was the stranger facing her.
Snow stood on all fours, hackles raised as she growled threateningly, teeth bared. A caring nursemaid she was, she could also be a fearsome guard. The warrior looked at the dog, whistled and flicked his hand. Snow ceased her growling, contemplated the man and then retreated to her place in the corner with the boys.
Brenna’s mouth fell open in shock and horror. How could he command her dog in such a way? And Snow! Traitor!
“Who...” She swallowed around the fearful lump that had formed in her throat, then forced herself to stand tall when she really wanted to retreat. “Who are ye?” she demanded.
The warrior was over a foot taller than she, his golden head bumping against the top of the door frame. When he stepped into the chamber, he actually had to bend slightly to the side and duck. There was nothing small about him. Muscles pulled at the confines of his shirt. Her gaze was riveted to the broad expanse of his chest, the silver brooch that held his plaid at his shoulder sparkled, a single emerald in the center glinting in the light of her candle. She held her breath as she scanned him from the top of his kilt all the way to the end just above his knees. Strong calves were encased in leather boots. He was covered in weapons. A sword at his back, one at his waist. A dagger strapped to his belt, bracers on his forearms, and a needle-nose sharp instrument in one hand. A warrior. Ready for battle. By the time her gaze roved back to his face, she was trembling.
Hard and fierce blue eyes stared down at her, sending a shiver racing over her skin. His flaxen hair was cropped short; the same shade of hair covered his chin in a short beard, lining a strong square jaw. His face was broad, but not overly so, and could have been cut from marble, the angles were so precise. His lips were set in a determined line, but even that fierce look didn’t take away from their shape. The V indent at the top that gave them a mesmerizing outline. To be certain, Brenna had never seen a man more handsome, or more terrifying, in her life. Not even Ronald or Thomas ever frightened her by their sheer presence alone. And there was nowhere to go. Rooted in place, her gaze locked on his, she waited for him to tell her just who the hell he was.


Eliza Knight is a USA Today bestselling indie author of sizzling historical romance and erotic romance. While not reading, writing or researching for her latest book, she chases after her three children. In her spare time (if there is such a thing…) she likes daydreaming, wine-tasting, traveling, hiking, staring at the stars, watching movies, shopping and visiting with family and friends. She lives atop a small mountain with her own knight in shining armor, three princesses and one very naughty puppy. Visit Eliza at or her historical blog History Undressed:

Hot Sex, Wine, Romance & Laughter All In One New Release!

I started dropping hints in book one of the Shore Secrets trilogy about Ward and Piper. They were two in a group of four best friends in a small town filled with wineries. Except...when the other two BFFs weren't around, Ward and Piper shot to opposite sides of the room. Weird, huh? Then in book two I dropped more hints. Showed that Ward always remembered exactly how Piper liked her coffee, and gave her his shirt in the cool lakeside air. Yet still, they stuck to opposite ends of the room. For those of you who picked up on the love/hate chemistry, your wait is over. It is release day for the last book in the trilogy, and you'll find out everything you wanted to know about their history.

Ward Cantrell always went for the long shot. But that recklessness cost him his college scholarship and his chance to play pro ball, and—worst of all—it ended his relationship with the girl next door. Neither the town nor the girl has ever forgiven him. Now he’s taking one last long shot by opening a boutique distillery on the family farm he inherited.

Piper Morrissey spent high school in Ward’s shadow, but she’s come into her own in the years since. Maintaining her spotless image, and that of her family’s winery, is priority number one. Nobody knows that she still yearns for her golden-boy ex. Or at least they didn’t—until Ward agrees to sell Piper the land she needs to start her precious port line. The caveat? She’ll need to date him for one month.  

Ward hopes a month is all it’ll take to convince his former sweetheart that while he’s changed, his love for her hasn’t. But when the chance arises to thumb his nose at the town that turned its back on him, he can’t afford not to reject Piper’s offer. Will that make her reject him and his love—for good?

Purchase at: Carina Press Y Amazon Y Barnes & Noble Y  iBooks
“Don’t you ever go with your gut?” He sauntered closer.
“That’s risky.”
A devilish smile flashed across his face. “That’s the fun part.”
“We can argue over business strategies—or lack thereof—later,” she said archly, giving him a disapproving glare down her nose. “I’m going to have to insist on time to weigh the pros and cons.”
“It’s Wednesday. I’ll give you until this time on Friday.” He closed the distance between them in one long stride. “I’ll give you something to start off that pro/con list with too.”
Ward bent, putting his lips on hers before Piper could decide whether to scoot out of reach or not. Probably because a part of her couldn’t believe it was actually happening. There was a very strong possibility she’d passed out from exhaustion and this whole thing was a dream. It was the likeliest explanation for the morning’s strange turn of events.
But the warm slide of his lips pulled her straight out of her head and rooted her firmly in the moment. This moment. What she’d dreamed about and hoped for didn’t hold a candle to the reality of Ward, her Ward, finally claiming her again with a kiss that seared her down to her core.
He planted his hands at her waist and lifted, lips never breaking contact. Lips, heck—tongue never breaking contact. Even as he raised her high enough that her feet left the floor, Ward’s tongue swept around every inch of her mouth. Every nerve-laden inch. Every sensitive, tingling inch.
Piper needed to touch. Needed to greedily take him with the same heat he was lavishing upon her. Her hands fisted in his hair. Ward nipped at her bottom lip in response. So she wrapped her legs around his waist. That elicited a growl, and Ward braced her back against the wall. Then he pushed close. Pushed that muscled chest and those ripped abs against her body. Canted his hips to push something else even harder against the vee where her legs met. At that, they both moaned.
The rasping brush of his stubble burned in an oh-so-sexy way as Ward angled down her neck. At her indrawn breath, he paused to suck and lick at the spot right on top of where her pulse fluttered rapidly. Because, oh, the things he did to her. The shivers that raced through her just from the strong, wide span of his hands at her waist. The way he crowded out all thought as he crowded his body against hers.
Even the roughness, the harsh press of his jeans inseam and the scrape of the hair on his chin and the hard grind of hip against hip surged a sexy thrill from her head to her toes. Piper couldn’t squeeze her legs tight enough, couldn’t rake her nails down the back of his shirt hard enough, couldn’t recapture his mouth fast enough. Nothing was enough.
On a gasp, Ward pulled away. His eyes had darkened to midnight and a satisfied smile played at the edges of his mouth. And when had his hands shifted down to support her ass?
“That’s my pitch.”
She tried—and probably failed—to sound aggrieved. “That? A kiss was your pitch?” Best. Marketing. Ever.
“No. The pitch was my carefully laid-out reasons why a month of your time is more than reasonable to secure the land you need.” Another flash of that wicked grin that would’ve turned her knees to jelly if she’d been standing. “The kiss was my closer.”

Binge On Small Town Romance!

On Monday, the third book in the Shore Secrets trilogy releases. Obviously, that means you should binge on the first two to get ready! Come on - what's better on a summer Sunday than relaxing over a good book...or two?

Ella Mayhew's always appreciated the beautiful view of Seneca Lake from the spa window of her family's hotel.But the view improves dramatically when a hot stranger runs across the grounds—shirtless. He's the first man to kickstart her hormones in the three years since she lost her parents, and she doesn't even know his name.
Graydon Locke's on his umpteenth undercover assignment. The routine's always the same: assess a business, recommend it for closure, then roll out before anyone discovers his decisions impact hundreds of lives. He's always believed nothing good comes out of small towns. Why would this one be different? Then he makes two classic rookie mistakes—falling for the sweet, sexy girl who owns the very business he's on the verge of axing. And letting the town's residents get involved in both his life, and his relationship with Ella.
Ella's the best thing to ever happen to Gray, but he's lied to her from the start. If he pulls the plug on Mayhew Manor, the entire town may crumble. Ella couldn't save her parents, but it's up to her to save their hotel. Even if that means turning her back on true love.

“Come do yoga with me tomorrow.”
“I’m a guy. We’re all about being hard and stiff, not soft and bendy.”
Ella blinked rapidly to clear the images of a naked, hard-muscled Gray that popped into her mind. And hardness…other places. “Don’t be so close-minded. Didn’t you end up enjoying the massage I gave you?”
“Yes.” He sounded adorably sulky at being forced to acknowledge it. Why was it that men found it so hard to admit when they were wrong? Definitely a topic of discussion for her next margarita night with the girls.
“See? You can’t dismiss something out of hand without at least trying it.”
Gray wrinkled his nose. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.” Ella brought up her other hand to cup his face. “You deserve to be looked after. It’s not much, I know, but let me help you in the only way I can.”
“I’ll do it—”
Ella bounced a little. “Terrific.”
“—on one condition. I’ve just come up with a good plan for stress release. Let’s try my way first.” Gray wove his fingers through the loose knit of her turquoise sweater. In one swift move, he pulled it off over her head and tossed it into the corner. “Come swimming with me. Right now.”
Was he serious? To stall for time while she processed the preposterous suggestion, Ella stammered, “We…we don’t have suits.”
“You said the pool’s still officially closed. No one will interrupt us.” He toyed with the strap of her matching tank. “You’ve got this thing. I’m wearing boxer briefs. We’ll be more covered up than in suits. Unless you don’t think you can control yourself around me?”
That was it in a nutshell. Not that she’d admit it to Gray. Not when he had that sharp eyebrow arched and a smug quirk to his lips. If he was trying to shock her…well, he had, no denying that. But what better way was there to embrace life fully than to embrace a dripping wet, mostly naked Gray? While she’d never work up the courage to tell him, this was the kind of activity Dr. T. would probably applaud. Or at least give her a gold star. He had asked her to email him with progress reports if anything big happened. Unable to resist, she glanced down at Gray’s crotch. Ella expected something very big, indeed, was about to happen.
“Water’s extremely therapeutic,” she said in her most serious, I’m massaging you but not judging your naked body in any way professional voice. “Swimming is a good counterpart to yoga. They use the same long muscles.”
Yup. Her matter-of-fact delivery dropped his eyebrow back to its usual straight line and wiped the smug from his lips. Ella kept the surprises rolling. She stood, unbuttoned her skirt and let it slide the floor into a big blue puddle. Then she reached out, grabbed his wrist, and yanked him sideways into the pool with her. 

Small-town park ranger Casey Hobbes has spent her life under the radar, carefully guarding a secret. "The forest flirt," as her best friend calls her, keeps things casual with men. That way she'll never care enough to be tempted to share the truth about her past. But when she spots a half-naked stranger on the lake's edge, Casey can't resist his muscles or his charm and she's all-in for enjoying both, while keeping emotion out of it. What could be the danger of one summer fling?

Professor Zane Buchanan has built his entire career on exposing the dark realities of cults, but one—the Sunshine Seekers—remains infuriatingly impossible to crack. Zane's shocked to discover its sole anonymous survivor is hiding in his new hometown. It's nearly impossible to concentrate on work, however, when he's derailed by his attraction to the beautiful blonde in khaki uniform shorts.

As things between Casey and Zane heat up, she struggles with keeping her past from him. And Zane's on a quest to expose the truth, no matter the consequences. Will their growing emotions finally unseal Casey's big secret? Or will she turn her back on love to keep the past safely buried?

Purchase at: Carina Press / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks

A single vision of six feet of toned muscles and charm tormented her. Her thoughts had slipped back to last night’s lip-lock with the professor…um…often. If often meant reliving it over and over again pretty much every time she blinked.
He’d called her beautiful more than once. His brain had chilled down to a temperature barely warmer than gelato, and yet he’d made a point of complimenting her. Long before he’d put his hands on her. That earned Zane a gold star. Of course, the way he kissed earned him enough stars to fill the Milky Way. That man knew his way around a pair of lips. Casey was far from a virgin. And she enjoyed tiptoeing through the tourists every summer just like all the other local singles.
But he’d stood out. She’d spent all morning trying to figure out why. Was it his commanding strength overlaid with tenderness and finished with a whole lot of sex appeal? Guess she’d lived in the heart of the Finger Lakes wine country too long when she started describing kisses the same way she described a glass of Riesling. Aaand that made Casey think about what it would be like to kiss him with wine-slicked lips. To taste the honey and apricot sweetness on Zane’s rough tongue as it plundered her mouth…
The thwap of the screen door on the outer office sent her hands flying to her face. Casey didn’t blush. Didn’t see a need to be that embarrassed about anything. But she tested the temperature of her cheeks anyway, because her core temp had just shot up ten degrees with that little fantasy. They felt hot. Hopefully anyone looking for brochures or bathrooms—her two most asked questions—would attribute the flush to summer. Even though this early in summer, they’d be lucky to hit eighty by mid-afternoon. Crap. Why was she worried? There was no cartoon thought balloon over her head flashing the words I’m having sexy thoughts in pulsating neon.
Flustered, she smoothed the wispy tendrils at her temples that always escaped her French braid. “I’ll be right out.”
“How about I just come all the way in?” Zane’s head and shoulders popped sideways around the doorframe. His hair flopped over his forehead the tiniest bit. It was adorable. Paired with the ear-to-ear grin, it made him look mischievous. Ready for fun or trouble. Probably both, if last night’s idiotic illicit dive was anything to go by.
           “Um, okay.” It surprised Casey how happy she was to see him. God, what was wrong with her? That was as much a lie as the ten pounds she’d shaved off her official weight when she renewed her license last month. And lying to yourself was always pointless. So, yeah—happy to see him. So happy that she did a quick mental check on whether or not she’d worn the lined bra that would hide the effect his presence was having on her nipples. 

Dive Into Summer With The New And Improved CAROLINA HEAT

It is hot. Hot and sticky here in Maryland. Instead of whining about it, I embraced it by re-releasing my first book! Carolina Heat has a new, hotter cover and some new material inside, too. I can't wait for you to dive in - here's the romantic, suspenseful blurb:

Investigative journalist Annabelle Carlyle is stunned by the personal twist of her latest assignment: her best friend Vanessa is missing. Annabelle goes undercover in the Old South to search for answers. Full of thick accents and a way of life rooted in the past, Charleston is as foreign and strange a place as any she's visited. Before finding a single clue, Annabelle encounters a sexy man she can't shake.

Tall, dark and charming, Mark Dering is happy to show the gorgeous Yankee his hometown. He's captivated by the quick witted, quick tempered redhead. But when they're shot at, he realizes she's far more than just another tourist. Soon they're deep into a mystery that goes way back to the Civil War. For once Annabelle is in over her head. Desperate to find Vanessa, she reluctantly accepts Mark's help and it isn't long before romance blooms.

The stakes grow higher when a body is discovered. Someone is willing to kill to keep a century old Confederate secret hidden. With her best friend missing and a killer on the loose, it's the worst possible moment for Mark to try and unlock Annabelle's heart. Or is love exactly what her life's been missing?

 Read on for a peek at the first chapter of Carolina Heat:

“Ready to go?” Mark slid in beside her.
“You have no idea. I’ve been fantasizing about getting horizontal.” She leaned her head against the seat with a sigh.
“Really?” He drew out the word slowly.
“Really, what?”
“You’ve known me for five minutes and you’re already fantasizing about me?”
Heat rushed to her face as her unintentional double meaning registered. “Oh, no. I mean, that certainly wasn’t an invitation.” Now he probably thought she was either a slut, or incredibly rude. This wasn’t going well.
Mark’s laugh rumbled from deep in his chest. “It’s okay. I’m not that easy.”
Annabelle twisted to face him, relieved he had a sense of humor. “I’m so sorry. I’ve completely lost the ability to form a coherent sentence that isn’t a come on or an insult. You see, I’ve been awake for two days straight, and three different zones of jet lag caught up to me the moment I stepped off the plane.”
“Not a problem. In fact, why don’t you sleep on it, and decide tomorrow if you’d like to repeat either the insult or the come on. Your choice.”
Annabelle surprised herself by giggling. The tall, dark and hot man was both funny and remarkably even-tempered. She could hardly remember the last time she’d flirted, let alone been on a date. His easy smile stirred something in her long dormant.
The assignment here probably wouldn’t be too taxing. Charleston wasn’t known as a hotbed of intrigue. A little fling might be just what she needed to shake off the boredom and dissatisfaction that had been dogging her steps.
“It’s a nice offer. Surprisingly nice, since I’ve acted like a complete idiot in the five minutes since we met.” But then her reporter’s instinct kicked in a healthy dose of suspicion. “Why are you so desperate for a date? Are you married? Hoping to squeeze in a little action while you’re in town for a conference?”
Mark held up both hands in a time-out gesture. “Whoa! Do you always go from zero to sixty in less than a minute?”
Pretty much. “I don’t like wasting time. And I don’t mince words.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Happen to be a big fan of telling it like it is myself. But you took a mighty big leap from us splitting a cab to labeling me a low-life cheat.”
Annabelle’s eyes stayed locked on his. “It was more of a question than an accusation. Plan on answering?”
Mark shoved a hand through his hair. “Not married, not seeing anyone, and I live right here in Charleston. If you need more extensive qualifications, I can pull together a resume and list of references by breakfast.”
“Point taken. Sorry, I’ll dial back the interrogation.” She dropped her gaze to her lap. “I’m not embarrassed to admit I’ve been burned a few times. It’s possible I overreacted.”
“Could also be possible you don’t give yourself enough credit.” Mark gently lifted her chin. “Annabelle, you’re a beautiful woman. Refreshingly honest, and it’s obvious you don’t play games. Why assume that desperation is the only reason I want to spend time with you?”
Relief flooded through her as the cab slowed to an idle in front of a long picket fence. It was all the excuse she needed to duck his question. “This must be my B&B.”
The back of his knuckles met her cheek in a light caress.  “Thanks for sharing the cab. But I’m afraid you can’t escape so easily.”
“What do you mean?”
“Can’t let you leave until I know if you’ll meet me tomorrow. I want a chance to take you on a real date, find out what’s going on behind those shimmering green eyes. Hell, I don’t even know your last name, or what you do.”
It took all of Annabelle’s willpower not to rub against his hand. He had a magic touch. “If I told you now, what we would talk about tomorrow?”
A wide grin took over his entire face. “Great! It’s a date.”
She gave a quick head shake. “Not quite. But I am open to the possibility. I’ll take your advice and sleep on it. You know where I’m staying, so come by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Fair enough.” He scooted out and retrieved her bags.   
“I’m taking a chance here, Mark. Don’t disappoint me,” she warned.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. But there’s a good chance I’ll dream of you tonight, Miss Annabelle.” His appraising look was more intimate than a touch, so much so that her skin tingled as the cab pulled away.