Friday, March 27, 2015

First Fight Friday: Harsh Climate by Camille LaGuire


Goats solve their differences head-on. They don’t give the silent treatment or yell, they butt heads, and then it’s over.

Cowboy Marvin has learned humans resolve issues differently especially those romantically involved. His curiosity sparked, he has invited authors to stop by on Fridays and share the first fight from one of their books.




Author  

Camille LaGuire


     is here for ...




First Fight Friday 

with a scene from

Harsh Climate
In the cold of winter, two teens run away. 

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From Chapter 1:


Clyde Watkins turned the battered Oldsmobile into the driveway on Windsor Street. He was seventeen and not dressed for the weather: no socks, worn sneakers, and just an extra sweatshirt for warmth. It was his own damn fault. He'd left his coat at a party somewhere, and he never did like socks.

He hesitated before getting out, but it wasn't really the cold wind or snow. He looked with trepidation at the house. Even inside the car he thought he could hear yelling. Mr. Bleur, Vicki's dad, was not happy. He was a state trooper and he scared the hell out of Clyde. But there was no point in delaying. Vicki wanted a rescue so he was there to provide it.

Clyde threw himself out of the car and ran to the house. Tiny ice crystals worked their way into his shoes, making his ankles ache. He ducked his head and jumped up on the porch and knocked.

Inside he could hear Vicki shouting.

"That's what's wrong with you!" she said. "You don't care!"

"Oh, sure," roared the voice of her father, so loud he must have been standing near the door. "Miss Teen-Queen I-don't-care girl is telling me I don't care."

"I care! I care about everything," screamed Vicki. "You don't even know how to care any more. You're just a cynical old fart!"

Clyde sighed. It was not going to get any better and he was cold. He knocked again, louder this time. The door jerked open and Mr. Bleur glared down at him.

"Oh, Christ, it's Poughkeepsie," he said, as if Clyde were just a package left on the step-a package Mr. Bleur was not much interested in receiving.

"Actually I'm from-" began Clyde, but he was interrupted by Vicki, who stood on the stairs behind her father.

"That's Denver," she said firmly. "And tell him I'll be right there."

"-I'm from Toledo," continued Clyde, "and my name is-"

Mr. Bleur shut the door in his face as if Clyde wasn't even there.

Clyde stood on the porch and considered whether this was worth it. He was about to strike out on the open road with the most interesting girl in school. Worth it. But there was no point in just standing there on the cold porch. Vicki needed a ride.

He tried the knob, and found the door was not locked. He pushed it open and stepped into the warmth of the house.

Mr. Bleur was glaring up the stairs after his daughter. He didn't turn around to look at Clyde, but he knew he was there.

"She's not going anywhere, Poughkeepsie, so you can just forget it," he said.

"My name is-" began Clyde one more time, but then Mr. Bleur turned to glare at him. Man that guy had a tough glare. Clyde backed away a step.

"Are you her boyfriend now?"

"No?" said Clyde. They'd never dated, they were just friends more or less, so he assumed that was true.

Mr. Bleur turned and shouted up the stairs.

"So is this your fag ballet partner?"

"Don't be a homophobe!" shouted Vicki from somewhere upstairs.

"No, I'm not," said Clyde. He supposed he shouldn't be a homophobe either, but he didn't want that misunderstood.

"So what are you doing here?" growled Mr. Bleur, but he didn't wait for an answer. He slapped the air dismissively, with a force that could have knocked over a horse, and went into the next room.

Clyde stood alone in the entryway, and looked after Bleur.

"I... guess I don't have any purpose here whatsoever," he said. He stepped to the bottom of the stairs and called up. "Vicki?"

"I'll be right there, Denver," she called from somewhere out of sight.

"No she won't!" roared her father from the next room.

"I'll wait in the car," said Clyde.

"It'll be a long wait!" called Mr. Bleur.

Clyde went back to the car, figuring that Mr. Bleur was probably wrong.

It was so cold in the car already. One of the windows didn't quite close and the wind seemed to sneak in, like one of those evil mists in a horror movie. He considered starting the car to let the heater run, but he wasn't sure about the gas. If they were going all the way to Colorado then they were going to need gas.

At least he thought they were going to Colorado. Vicki had been calling him Denver ever since he agreed to drive, but she'd never actually said where she wanted to go. She was kind of obnoxious, really, but Clyde had this philosophy about people. If you let them get to you, you miss out on a lot of life. If you get offended all the time, you might not notice something really cool right there on the other side of the insult. Besides, life's too short to deal with other people's shit.

So he sat and shivered and considered whether he should start calling himself Denver, The Ride Guy. Everybody else was calling him Denver now at school.

Vicki came running around from the back of the house. She must have snuck out. She was hauling a large suitcase with her. She just made it to the car when her father threw open a window.

"Is that a suitcase? Where the heck are you going?"

Vicki threw the suitcase in the back seat.

"Go!" she yelled and she jumped into the passenger seat.

Clyde started the car. Of course it took a minute to turn over. Mr. Bleur disappeared from the window, and he knew it would be only a minute before he'd come running out the door. But then the engine roared roughly to life, and Clyde hit the reverse so fast his tires squealed.

Vicki buckled her seatbelt. She may have been a rebel but she was a cop's daughter. She settled back.

"This doesn't make you my boyfriend."

"I know," said Clyde. "I'm doing this for the gas money." He paused. "You have got the gas money, right?"

"Of course," she said, and she patted her purse.

"Then westward ho."

She paused, and he could tell she was looking at him. Why did he say something stupid like that?

"Thanks, Denver," she said at last.

"My name's Clyde," he said. "And I'm from Toledo."

"Denver's a better name," she said.

He glanced away from the slippery road to look at her. She was smiling a thin smile. Mona Lisa style. God, she was beautiful. Blond hair, green eyes, lithe and energetic. She was a dancer and sometimes her body just seem like a taut spring-even in her lumpy winter coat.

He took a breath and turned back to the road before he ran them into a ditch. Okay, Denver was better. He could be Denver.

Copyright © Camille LaGuire

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 Harsh Climate by Camille LaGuire

On a lonely country road, in the cold of winter, two runaway teens are out of gas and stranded. 

They seek shelter in a distant farmhouse, only to find it's the lair of a gang of vicious kidnappers. 

Can they dodge the crooks and the weather long enough to save the kidnapped child...
and themselves?



Harsh Climate
is available on
Amazon Barnes & Noble iTunes

Camille's Bio:

Camille LaGuire hails from the north country. work has appeared in publications such as Marion Zimmer Bradley's Fantasy Magazine; Handheld Crime; Cricket, the Magazine For Children and Futures Mysterious Anthology Magazine. Stories have been collected into anthologies, reprinted overseas, and in educational materials. She's worked as a horse wrangler, fry cook, teacher, tech, editor, script analyst and even had a play produced.

Harsh Climate was originally a screenplay, written for fun as a very low budget adventure with limited cast and locations. Camille likes to think of it as Nancy Drew Meets Die Hard (or Die Hard in a Farm House). And audiobook version of this story is posted on her free podcast, Reading in the Attic. Which can be subscribed to on iTunes, or through the Reading in the Attic Blog.



Follow Camille LaGuire online
Thanks for sharing Camille!

Friday, March 20, 2015

First Fight Friday: Red Dust Dreaming by Eva Scott


Goats solve their differences head-on. They don’t give the silent treatment or yell, they butt heads, and then it’s over.

Cowboy Marvin has learned humans resolve issues differently especially those romantically involved. His curiosity sparked, he has invited authors to stop by on Fridays and share the first fight out of their latest book.







Eva Scott is here for ...




First Fight Friday

 with a scene from 



 Red Dust Dreaming

Elizabeth has travelled all the way from New York to a cattle station in the red heart of Australia to retrieve her orphaned nephew, Luke. What she hadn’t counted on was the station owner, Caden Carlyle.

In the battle of duty versus desire, only one can survive the hot Australian sunshine.

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She drew a breath, “I was hoping to spend some time with Luke this afternoon. Do you know where he is?”

Caden relaxed a little. Another safe topic. “Luke is out riding a fence line with one of the head stockman’s boys.”

Elizabeth stretched out her bare legs as she settled back into her chair. They appeared longer than she was tall and he struggled to keep his eyes off them. “It’s generous of you to give the stockman time off of his duties to take the boys riding.”

“I didn’t. The boys are old enough to ride the home paddock fence line.”

“You mean you let two little boys out…” she waved her arm at the sweeping landscape, “…out there alone with no adult supervision.” Her voice raised an entire octave.

“Luke has been on the back of a horse since before he could walk and the other boy is nearly ten. They are riding sedate, mature horses around an area which is well marked. There is no danger of them riding off into the desert never to be found again.” Caden figured Elizabeth had watched Meryl Streep in A Cry in the Dark and now her imagination was running wild.

“That’s not the point. What if something happened to one of them? What if a horse bolted or a snake attacked…”

“Snakes don’t attack as a rule. They tend to steer clear of us as we prefer to steer clear of them.” He kept his voice level and reasonable.

“You know what I mean,” she snapped rising out of her chair to lean against the rail. Her eyes scanned the horizon for Luke. “What time are you expecting them back?”

Caden shrugged even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “In time for dinner. He’ll come in when he gets hungry.”

She spun about to face him, her eyes wild with alarm. “But what if night falls and he’s not back?”

He was up out of his chair before the act registered in his mind, driven by a primeval need to comfort her. There was something vulnerable about those big blue eyes which hooked him hard. He managed to stop his hands from reaching out to her a moment before he could embarrass them both. “The boys know to come in before the sun dips behind the hill. This is not the first time they’ve ridden out together – and it won’t be the last.”

Elizabeth looked up at him then, all her concern on display for him to see. She wrapped her arms around herself as if to comfort her own fears. “He can’t just wander off in New York.”

“And he won’t. He doesn’t know New York like he knows Kirrkalan.”

“But he’s only five years old. How can he know anything without an adult there to guide him?”

“What are you implying?” A coldness took up residence in the centre of Caden’s chest. What was she saying? That he hadn’t provided adequate supervision, that he’d been neglectful?

“I didn’t mean any offense!” She must have sensed the drop in temperature between them.


He blew out a breath and took a beat before speaking. “Look Miss Langtree, I was out riding when I was Luke’s age. He’s not off droving for goodness sake. He’s just gone for a bit of a ride before dinner. Out here in the country that’s a perfectly normal thing for a child to do. He is arguably safer here than riding the subway in New York City.”

“Maybe it is a normal activity for a child born to this land. You are of this land but Luke…”

He cut her off, impatience lacing his voice. “Luke was born to this land too. Don’t forget that. Kirrkalan is the only home he’s ever known. Angela gave birth to him right here in the homestead. This is as much his home as it is mine.”

“Really Mr. Carlyle?” Her voice dripped with acid, gone any pretence of friendliness to be replaced by what he thought must be her courtroom demeanour. He had to admit it was impressive. She drew herself up to her full height, her eyes steely in the dying light. “That may be so but Luke will be returning to New York with me whether you like it or not. His place is with his grandparents, his family.” The emphasis she put on the word family sent him the clear message she didn’t consider him part of Luke’s future in anyway and his heart constricted at the thought of never seeing the boy again.

Caden folded his arms across his chest and rocked back on his heels, trying to dampen down the anger threatening to blaze forth. “Really Miss Langtree? Well, I for one want to be there when you tell Luke you’re tearing him apart from all he’s ever known to take him back the people his mother ran away from. Should be a very interesting conversation.”

Her eyes flashed and her hands balled into fists at her side. She was good and mad, a tell-tale flush creeping along her finely sculpted cheek bones. Her blonde hair, cut short with a sweeping fringe just begged to be messed up and his hand itched for the task. But it was her lips that held him in thrall. He’d only just noticed how lush and kissable they were.

“I owe it to my parents to bring their only grandchild home,” she said between clenched teeth.

“And what do you owe Angela?” he asked enjoying her recoil at the sound of her sister’s name. He unfolded his arms and leaned towards her, closer, closer until he could smell the freshly washed scent of her. She stood her ground and her flush grew deeper as he drew nearer. “What do you owe yourself?” he drawled low and soft before spinning on his heel to leave her standing in the twilight.


Copyright © Eva Scott
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Red Dust Dreaming by Eva Scott

Elizabeth Langtree’s has her life in order – safe, organised, planned. Sure, she has her troubles, 
but they are nothing she can’t handle. 

Then everything is turned upside down when her family send her to Australia to collect 
her orphaned nephew.

It all seemed so simple in New York, but Australia is nothing like she expected, and she soon falls under the spell of the Outback – the station, the lifestyle, and the seriously sexy owner who has been caring for Luke since the death of his mother.

Elizabeth soon discovers that what seemed simple a world away is anything but, and her duty is at odds with the dictates of her heart. She must choose, knowing that a mistake will not only cost her everything, but destroy the future of a devastated little boy.


Red Dust Dreaming 
 will be available April 8, 2015 at:

Don't forget to check out Eva's previous First Fight Friday

Now that you've had a taste of Eva's work, would you like more?

Other available titles by Eva Scott are
available on:

Amazon  






Eva's bio:
Eva Scott writes contemporary romance set in her homeland of Australia and historical fiction set in the Ancient World. Her books offer passion and adventure in some of the most beautiful and intriguing places in the world. Her heroes and heroines are strong, sassy and ready to rise to their challenges, and learn a little bit about themselves along the way.

Having lived overseas for several years, Eva returned to study Anthropology before heading off to live in Papua New Guinea for a year. There she met the love of her life, author G.W. Gibson, who was stationed there with the Australian Defence Force. The rest is history, romantic history. 
She now lives on the Redcliffe peninsula with her husband, small son and an assortment of animals. When Eva is not writing she enjoys mentoring first-time authors, cooking up a story, practising yoga and getting out on the bay on her stand-up paddle board.



Follow Eva Scott online

Thanks for sharing Eva!

Friday, March 13, 2015

First Fight Friday: The Playboy of Rome (The DeFiore Brothers) book 1 by Jennifer Faye


Goats solve their differences head-on. They don’t give the silent treatment or yell, they butt heads, and then it’s over.

Cowboy Marvin has learned humans resolve issues differently especially those romantically involved. His curiosity sparked, he has invited authors to stop by on Fridays and share the first fight from one of their books.






Author  

Jennifer Faye


     has returned for...




First Fight Friday 

with a scene from


The Playboy of Rome
The first book in a Harlequin Romance duet—The DeFiore Brothers.

A recipe for dating DeFiore men…
Take two Italian brothers with a pinch of playboy charm 
Add two American sisters with a liberal dash of feistiness 
Simmer under warm Italian skies until perfectly combined 
Serve with lashings of love.

Dante DeFiore is passionate about life, women and the tasty Italian food he creates. And feisty American TV star Lizzie Addler is almost too tempting for him to resist! 

In the scene below Lizzie has just arrived in Rome, Italy. She’s won an apprenticeship with one of the world’s renowned chefs, but things don’t go according to plan. When she shows up at the restaurant, the chef isn’t there instead she runs into his grandson, who has no time for her. But with so much riding on her success in Rome, 
she’s not about to walk away…

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What was it about this woman that had him feeling off-kilter?

Could it be the way Lizzie’s touch sent currents of awareness up his arm? Realizing they were still touching, Dante jerked his hand away. He clenched his fingers, creasing the hefty document.

Or maybe it was those cool blue eyes of hers that seemed to study his every move. It was as though she could see more of him than he cared for anyone to observe. Not that he had any secrets to hide— well, other than his plans to sell the ristorante.

His gaze scrolled over the first lines of the document, pausing when he saw his grandfather’s name followed by Ristorante Massimo. He continued skimming over the legalese until his gaze screeched to a halt at the mention of a television show. His gut twisted into a knot. This was much more involved than he’d ever imagined.

“You said this was for an internship. You didn’t mention anything about a television show.”

Her lips moved but nothing came out. It was as though she wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed. If she thought he was going to make this easy for her, she’d have to think again. She’d tried to get him to agree to let her work here under false pretenses when in fact she had much bigger plans.

When she didn’t respond fast enough, he added, “How long were you planning to keep that little bit of information a secret?”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Obviously I wasn’t keeping it a secret or I wouldn’t have handed you the contract.”

She had a valid point, but it didn’t ease his agitation. He once again rubbed at his stiff neck. It’d been an extremely long day.


Copyright © Jennifer Faye

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The Playboy of Rome 
The DeFiore Brothers book 1 
by Jennifer Faye

Taming the Italian playboy… 

Lizzie Addler's dream of working in Italy is about to come true—that is if she can convince passionate Italian chef Dante DeFiore to keep his side of their bargain. Dante might be hotter than the Italian sun, but he's as cool as ice toward Lizzie… 

Dante hasn't the time to pander to Lizzie's dreams of culinary fame
— he has a restaurant to run! But as Lizzie proves herself to be a spectacular addition to his kitchen—and to his life—
Dante wonders…can he keep her forever?


The Playboy of Rome
is available on 
Amazon ~ Amazon UK Kobo ~ Barnes & Noble iTunes Harlequin


Don't forget to check out Jennifer's previous First Fight Friday
First Fight Friday: A Moment to Love (A Whistle Stop Romance, book 1)



Jennifer's Bio:

Award-winning author, Jennifer Faye pens fun, heartwarming romances. Step into the pages of exciting destinations with rugged cowboys, sexy tycoons & enchanting royalty. Jennifer has won the RT Book Reviews Reviewers' Choice Award, named a TOP PICK author, and been nominated for numerous awards. Now living her dream, she resides with her patient husband, amazing daughter (the other remarkable daughter is off chasing her own dreams) and two spoiled cats. 

Jennifer loves to hear from readers—you can contact her via her website.


Follow Jennifer Faye online
Thanks for sharing Jennifer!

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