Addicted to Writing Presents Friday's Featured Title: Legacy Under Fire by Genie Gabriel

Title: Legacy Under Fire

Author: Genie Gabriel

Genre: Women's Fiction

Email: genene@genenevalleau.com

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 1

Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com

Buy at Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Legacy-Under-Fire-Halo-ebook/dp/B00AVKSQ7S/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1385863134&sr=1-1&keywords=Legacy+Under+Fire+by+Genie+Gabriel

Buy at Barnes & Noble:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/legacy-under-fire-genie-gabriel/1114054318?ean=2940016137933

BLURB:

After being trapped in an arson fire that destroyed her clinic and her memory, a doctor struggles to regain her courage as well as solve the mystery of why someone would want to kill her. A different kind of heat fills her life when she falls in love with the firefighter who rescued her, but can he protect her from the man determined to snuff out her life?

EXCERPT

As Shiloh stood watching the dancers, butterflies swooped in her belly like the rainbow of satin gowns swirling across the dance floor.

"Would you like to dance?"

Shiloh gazed at Jeremiah, her handsome escort. No smudges on his face from smoke and ashes. No sturdy turnouts with its fabric rough against her cheek.

Handsome. Serious. Sexy.

Though he barely touched her fingers, the heat shimmered between them.

Shiloh's breath caught in her throat. Tonight was different. He wasn't a hero doing his job. He was a man whose gaze looked into her soul.

And found what?

Did he see the holes where her memory had been? Did he sense her fear and wonder at her doubts?

"I-I can't."

A frown settled briefly on his brow.

"I've never learned any dance steps--I just to sway to the music." Shiloh shrugged ruefully.

"I can teach you."

Shiloh's mouth went dry. She struggled to swallow as the fantasy of Jer teaching her more than dance steps raised goosebumps across her skin.

"It's easy." Jeremiah turned his hand over so her palm rested against his. "Just a few simple steps in a box pattern."

His other hand moved to her hip, and he quietly counted the steps as they moved to the music. "One, two, three. One, two, three."

Mesmerized by the movement of his lips, Shiloh simply followed his lead. Until he turned and she stumbled against his feet. She jerked upright, flushed, and stammered out an apology. "I guess all my skill is in my hands--or used to be..."

"You can stand on my feet if you want to until you get the hang of it. Marly used to when she was a kid and Tallie was trying to 'give us some culture', as she said."

"That sounds nice." Wistfulness wove between Shiloh's words.

"Trampled feet or culture?" A dimple appeared in Jeremiah's left cheek when he smiled.

Why had she not noticed that before? "Having lots of siblings must have been nice."

"Intrusive sometimes."

"Better than being alone."

"Were you lonely as a child?" Jeremiah continued dancing with Shiloh as they talked.

"I knew my parents loved me and were doing important work. But I missed being around kids my own age."

"Yeah, you missed out on bruises and elbows in the ribs during basketball games."

They laughed together.

"I didn't realize how lucky I was," Jer said. "Until lately."

"Much has happened lately," Shiloh agreed.

Jer swung her under his arm and she concentrated on keeping her feet moving so she didn't stumble. For the rest of the song, Shiloh focused on dancing rather than talking. As the dance ended, a cautious pride bloomed in Shiloh's chest.

"You're a fast learner."

Jer was staring at her. With something different in his eyes Shiloh hadn't noticed before. Speculation. Desire perhaps.

The orchestra began playing again and she melted into his arms. In this beautiful old house, time seemed to have receded to a gentler era when gentlemen and ladies put on their best manners with their fine clothes for a special night on the town.

Shiloh let her eyes drift closed, wondering what making love would be like with Jeremiah. She fancied it would be much like dancing with him. A slow, tantalizing journey unlike any other she had taken.

Is this what she had missed in younger years by focusing on her studies? Or was this magic reserved for a special someone? Someone she hadn't met until Jeremiah.

When she opened her eyes, Jer was gazing at her. A slight smile on his lips and banked fire in his eyes. He wanted her. Yet made no move to put his desires into action. Truly a gentleman. A hero.

The man she had fallen in love with.

Addicted to Writing Presents: Highland Sunrise by Christine Young

Title: Highland Sunrise

Author: Christine Young

Email: achristay@aol.com

Genre: Women's Fiction

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 4

Buy at: Rogue Phoenix Press;

Amazon;

Barnes and Noble

REVIEW:

Highland Sunrise by Christine Young
Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press
Genre: Historical
Length: Full Length (174 pgs)
Heat Level: Spicy
Rated: 4 Stars
Reviewed by Dandelion

I loved the rapport between the two main characters. Although at times they both struggled to find the right words to explain their feelings for each other, somehow they managed. They both loved the other and so over time it became easier. Both were also very independent and that caused a little friction between them. However, Ryder would typically just shake his head and go with the flow. There were a huge number of sex scenes, and I think this story would have stood alone quite well without so many (there were times they did nothing to forward the plot, but seemed added just to have a sex scene), but they didn’t detract from the plot either.

There were so many other fascinating and fun characters in the story: her sister, her cousins, their husbands, her aunt, the Duchess. Reading about all the things they attempted and succeeded in doing was really fun. They were not the typical regency “tonnish” people of the days. This made this story much more fun.

And of course, although there was a lot of fighting, terror, murder and mayhem, the story has a very satisfying ending.

He Made Her An Offer...

Life has thrown Christel McClellan some experiences that could have devastated a less determined woman. Beautiful, self-assured and fiercely independent, she is trying to forget the loss of her stillborn child. But is the child alive?

She Couldn’t Deny...

Life is carefree for Ryder MacLaren who loves to see what is on the other side of the sunrise. Laird of Clan MacLaren, he is wealthy, handsome and happily unencumbered...until stunning Christel McClellan enters his life. When he hears her story, he believes the child she thought dead has been sold to a wealthy buyer.

EXCERPT

But Christel pushed away from him and pointing, "There, do you see her. She is sitting on the wall."

Ryder strained to see the apparition Christel pointed toward but he saw nothing. "No, but I think I hear her."

"Yes, she is crying, not weeping as usual. Do you know anything about her story?" Christel turned to him, hope shining in her soft blue eyes.

"I've heard her lover died. But that was a long time ago."

"How?"

Ryder pulled her back into his embrace, not ever wanting her to leave. He would hold fast to her for as long as she would allow him. "At war... I don't recall which one. The clans seem to have always been at war with someone, especially the English."

He felt the nod of her head against his chest. "Does anyone know the legend? I would seek them out."

Her breathing was slow and she seemed relaxed. But Ryder feared for her. If she started asking questions, would this ghost come to harm her? He didn't know anything about apparitions. But he also knew he would have to give her a chance to discover the truth. "Only if you let me go with you. I would be honored. There is a woman, older than time. She wanders the castle grounds. Most see her in the late evening and early morning."

"Old as time, no older?"

A shimmering silver light hung over the castle and floated above the turrets. Ryder pointed toward the light. "Is that her?"

"She's a bit reclusive." Christel turned in Ryder's arms. "Yes, that's her."

"One might say that about her." His hands rested at the small of Christel's back. He wanted to kiss her but didn't want to frighten her again. Maybe a lazy gentle kiss would be accepted. The thought made him grin.

He traced her neck with the tip of his finger, hoping she would find his attentions acceptable then bent close to her. "I want to kiss you. Will you let me?" She shivered in his arms but turned her face up to him.

"Yes." She breathed softly. Her words gentle yet hesitant.

Her reticence bothered him. What had happened in her past? His thoughts shot to Lord Rathen and her hasty departure from London. Every part of him tightened with disgust. He would discover the truth and make the despicable rake pay for any injustice committed against Christel.

Watching her eyes for signs of fear, Ryder lowered his mouth to hers. He touched her gently, molded his lips against her, thrilled to hear the sigh of pleasure emanate from her. He ran one hand up her back, pulling her closer, reveling in the feel of her softness against his hard planes. Her breasts pushed against him. The need to feel every inch of her pulsed through him but he didn't dare.

He moved back and once again looking into her eyes. She lowered her lashes then returned his gaze.

"Don't think, little one, just feel and know that I would never hurt you. I want more but I won't rush you."

She touched his cheek with one slender fingertip. "Kiss me again."

Addicted to Writing Present: Highland Miracle by Christine Young

Title: Highland Miracle

Author: Christine Young

Email: achristay@aol.com

Genre: Romance/Fantasy/Paranormal

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 2

Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com

Buy at Amazon:  

Buy at Barnes & Noble:

HURTLED THROUGH TIME, Sean Michael Sterling, landed in the midst of a May Day celebration he didn’t understand, assuming the role of Laird Sterling.

ILLIGITAMATE CHILD OF NOBILITY, Reagan Douglas searches for a way out of her half brother’s house.

EXCERPT

New York City 1895

"I dinnae ken what this contraption could be. I must be aff my heid," he said reverting back to the old language his great grandfather had spoken from time to time.  Sean Michael Sterling walked around the tall red object he'd just come across in Central Park. His heart thundered with the realization this was an anomaly and for some reason...

"Is this a fire hydrant?" he murmured totally intrigued. Cautiously stepping closer, he rested a hand on the object of his fascination. The hackles on the back of his neck stood on end. The thing was smooth and touching it sent shivers up his spine. If this was a hydrant, it sure could hold a ton of water.

For some reason... his mind shifted and he thought time machine—Jules Verne—his favorite book.

He leaned in and smelled, nothing, just the scent of metal. He didn't recognize the odor. When he stepped back, he caught a hint of Daphne floating on the air. A slight breeze sifted through the meadow, filling his senses with new cut grass, wet dog, and something he couldn't quite identify.

Thoughts of pixie dust came to mind.

I am off my head.

A small dog ran around his heels, yipping and barking. "Crazy dog." Sean leaned down and rubbed the dog's ears. “You look like a bandit. Wonder where you came from? Go on, now. Where's your owner?"

The dog sat down, wagging his tale and stared at him. It seemed the animal was telling him he wasn't going anywhere.  "Now, Bandit, you need to go find your owner. I'm not one to be taking you home with me. Don't think my landlord would appreciate a dog in the building."

Strangely he was the only one in the park, or at least this corner of it. The sound of carriages could be heard in the distance. He suddenly felt isolated and completely alone. The damn thing compelled him to know more, seeming to reach out to him and beckon. An eerie keening started in the back of his mind and grew. The impulse to explore overwhelmed him. Even as he looked at the machine, his mind cautioned him to stay away, but his curiosity sprouted to an uncanny level.

A little voice in the back of his head urged him forward. Damn, but he needed to go home. His stomach growled complaining of hours without food. His eyes burned from the fire he'd just been on and his body cried out for sleep. Rubbing his sooty hair, he muttered to himself.

But thoughts of what was inside this monster contraption intrigued him more than the demands of his body.

Walking around the monstrosity, he kept his hand on the metal all the while looking for an opening.  What shocked him and what was more surprising was the fact that little Bandit found the opening for him.

Bandit sat down in front of what appeared to be a door and stared at him again. It seemed to Sean that Bandit dared him to see what was inside. Well, he'd never been a man who could resist a straight on challenge.

Caution...

He inhaled a long and very deep breath. Closing his eyes he counted to ten. Even though the day was cool, sweat beaded on his forehead. He walked into fires, lifted burning timber, and he'd never really been afraid a day in his life.

This contrivance terrified him.

Nerves snapping, Sean pushed on the door. It slid sideways, revealing a dark abyss. He stepped back. Fear raced through him, caution cried out to him but he ignored all warnings.

Curiosity propelled him forward.

Bandit ran inside. "No," Sean cried out. "Dinnae....

Silence chilled him to the bone and a cold sweat broke out on his body. Birds chirped in nearby trees.

All seemed right with the world—except for this machine.

"Come here." He crouched down and called to Bandit. Bandit didn't budge. Instead the dog cocked his head to one side and seemed to be saying. You come here.

Sean wavered then stood his ground. Bandit seemed to like it in the machine.

And yet...

An extraordinary golden dust swirled around him, warming him like a golden rain.