Tuesday, April 22, 2014

The Cowboy Imports a Bride by Cora Seton #contemporary #cowboys @GoddessFish

The Cowboy Imports a Bride
The Cowboys of Chance Creek Series
by Cora Seton


Rob Matheson's a fighter. Flattening enemies with his fists or with his legendary practical jokes, he's a tough enemy, and a troublesome friend. But Rob doesn't know how much longer he can keep up the act. As his buddies get married one by one, he's left with his lonely life - and the sinking feeling he lost more than his dreams when he traded them for a thick skin. Now Rob's father has issued a challenge - he'll give 200 acres of prime Montana ranchland to the first of his four sons to wed. No conditions, no meddling. Could this be a chance to become the man he really wants to be?

Morgan Tate's worked for years to climb the ladder to a top job at Cassidy Wineries, but Duncan Cassidy, the boss' son, always stands in her way. Now he's issued an ultimatum; marry him or he'll make sure she never works in the wine industry again. Morgan wants marriage - and a family - but not with Duncan. A certain cowboy in Chance Creek, Montana, has stolen her heart.

When Rob offers Morgan a proposition - marry him and split the land - they both find themselves with an ethical dilemma. They don't know each other well enough to wed, but they can't lie about their intentions before God and man, either.

Now they've got sixty days to fall in love, and a passel of family and friends determined to keep them apart. The victims of Rob's previous jokes are lining up to get their revenge, and Morgan's half-sister, Claire, is stirring up their mother's past.

Will it take the biggest practical joke of all to convince the world - and themselves - that they're truly meant to be man and wife?


“So, one thing,” Rob said carefully. “My Dad's going to give us some land as a wedding gift, and I promised Morgan we'd use half of it to start a vineyard.”

“You're going to grow grapes in Montana?”

“Yeah—I looked into it. It's possible.”

“Seems like a silly thing to do. Cattle's way more profitable.”

Rob tamped down on the irritation that surged within him. He'd expected Ethan, at least, to be supportive. “She's my bride. I want to make her happy.”

That shut Ethan up. “Okay. I guess I see your point.”

“Anyway, for my gift to Morgan I'm giving her a down payment for her business. I want her to have everything she'll need to get prepared for next spring. Between tilling, rootstock, stakes and wires and the rest of it, she estimates it'll take twenty grand above and beyond what she's got to get things started.”

“You got that kind of cash kicking around?”

Rob sighed. “You know I don't. Dad gives us room and board, but not much extra. I got a truck payment and a running tab down at the Boot. I figure I've got about eight thousand in the bank.”

“In other words you're looking for either a handout or for work,” Ethan said. “I've got work, but I don't pay twelve grand a month.”

“I know, buddy. I'm hoping you have some ideas about who might.”

Ethan was silent for a while. “You know, with all this settling down and wanting a job, I'm not sure I know who you are anymore.”

“Ethan,” Rob growled.

“All right, all right—I'll think it over and let you know what I come up with. Meanwhile, I've got one thing to say to you.” Suddenly, Ethan sounded dead serious.

“What's that?”

“If you hurt my sister, you're going to be in a world of pain.”

About the author:
Cora Seton loves cowboys, country life, gardening, bike-riding, and lazing around with a good book. Mother of four, wife to a computer programmer/eco-farmer, she ditched her California lifestyle nine years ago and moved to a remote logging town in northwestern British Columbia.

Like the characters in her novels, Cora enjoys old-fashioned pursuits and modern technology, spending mornings transforming a neglected one-acre lot into a paradise of orchards, berry bushes and market gardens, and afternoons writing the latest Chance Creek romance novel on her iPad mini. Visit www.coraseton.com to read about new releases, contests and other cool events! 


Giveaway Info:
Cora will award a $100 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

The more you enter, the better your chances of winning, so be sure to follow the tour, found here: http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2014/03/sbb-cowboys-of-chance-creek-by-cora.html

Monday, April 21, 2014

Release Day Blitz: Love's Sorrow by Terri Rochenski

Happy Book Birthday to Love's Sorrow!

Today marks the kick-off of Love's Sorrow blog tour AND part one of ...

 a sneak peak at the entire first chapter!

Follow along during the tour for parts two through ten, and be sure to check out the rafflecopter below for some Love's Sorrow goodies!

Love's Sorrow
Means of Mercy #1
Historical Romance
Release Date: April 21, 2014
Publisher: Roane Publishing

Hired as a nanny for her cousin’s children, Anne Tearle finds security and a loving family. The children are a dream, but London society is a world of its own, one where a displaced farm girl has no business being. But, wealthy rake, Gavin MacKay, helps her to see associating with the upper class might not be as horrid as she first assumed.

Like all things worthwhile, love comes at a price, and the cost soon bestows more anguish than joy. Lost, but not undone, Anne must find the courage to begin life anew, or succumb to sorrow's unrelenting waves of grief.

Purchase Links:

Createspace (Best Option)


Chapter 1 / Excerpt 1

With a loud grind and clanking, the train came to rest at King’s Cross Station. The engine car let out a hiss like the sigh that escaped my lips every night when I laid on my pallet after a long day’s work.

Pressing my face to the window, I stared in amazement at the mass of moving people. When boarding the train in Birmingham, excitement kept me from giving the well-to-do folks more than a mere glance, but I sat captivated as my fellow passengers disembarked around me.
Lavish bonnets and bright-coloured dresses of silky material made me ashamed of the threadbare gingham frock and tattered straw hat I wore.

Aunt Martha and Mary always tried to keep up with the latest fashions by ripping and sewing old dresses—garments beyond repair became an extra flounce or two, and the nicer threads unwoven and made into lace collars or cuffs. I hadn’t ever been allowed time for such frivolous activities, so I made myself content with proper skirt length and suitable patches for worn elbows.

Content, until I gazed upon the ladies of London in all their finery. Aunt Martha would say those folks sinned by squandering their money in such a way.

For about the tenth time, I imagined my aunt’s kitchen minus its scullery maid and target for hurled objects. I choked back a giggle for what must have been the fifth time that morning. My days of being a slave were over, for I had been offered employment.

Fingers trembling, I stood and wrapped my thin shawl tight around my shoulders, clutched my bundle closer, and walked the train’s narrow aisle. I stepped onto the platform and peered around the sea of faces for Joanna Telford.

I had never met my cousin from London. Until a few weeks earlier, I wasn’t even aware I had family beyond Uncle Edward and Aunt Martha. Mrs. Telford wrote to tell me she and her husband were in need of a nanny and governess for their two young sons, and being the merciful guardian he was, Uncle Edward decided to send me away from his wife.

Without her knowing.

Another smile lifted my lips, and I shifted on my feet, moving my tied bundle from one hand to the other. I grimaced as a whiff of body odour rose. Aunt Martha allowed me to bathe once a week, which would have been on the morrow, but asking to do so early certainly would have aroused suspicion. Sneaking away from her house before sunrise as I did would never have occurred with success.

No one spared the poor farm girl a second glance, and insides buzzing like a honey bee, I stood unmoving, a white-knuckled grip on my worldly possessions.

Minutes moved passed slower than a lazy stream and the surrounding crowd began to disperse. I waited. Despair crept closer with every passing heartbeat.

A stooped man in black livery made eye contact with me, and a pleasant smile lit his face as he started my way.

“Miss Tearle?” His voice rasped like a rusty barn door hinge.

“Yes. I am Anne Tearle.” I was grateful to my aunt for one thing. My accent matched almost perfectly with those buzzing around me. Aunt Martha's hatred of the Black Country we lived in and the cane across the back of my legs every time I slipped into the bouncing regional lilt had eradicated all but the barest traces of it.

The elderly gentleman removed his hat, tucked it under one arm, and dipped his head. "Welcome to London, missy.” His smile widened and the skin around his watery blue eyes crinkled. “I’m the Telfords’ coachman, Emanuel. The missus has sent me to collect you.” 


About Terri Rochenski

Terri started writing stories in the 8th grade, when a little gnome whispered in her brain. Gundi’s Great Adventure never hit the best seller list, but it started a long love affair with storytelling.

Today she enjoys an escape to Middle Earth during the rare ‘me’ moments her three young children allow. When not playing toys, picking them back up, or kissing boo-boos, she can be found sprawled on the couch with a book or pencil in hand, and toothpicks propping her eyelids open.

Tour Schedule

Book Blitz and Tour-wide Giveaway
Signed paperback copy of Love's Sorrow, 
$10 Amazon gift card, & swag package.
Ends 5/16/2014

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com Gift Code.  No purchase necessary, but you must be 18 or older to enter. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter, and announced on the widget. Winner well be notified by emailed and have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. The number of entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Roane Publishing's marketing department.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Put your heart in your stories...

Image courtesy of Jeroen van Oostrom
Happy Sunday, everybody!

Happy Easter as well to those who celebrate (as I sit here nibbling on a chocolate bunny's ears) :) I have to admit, I’m in a wistful mood this morning. I sat down intending to talk about Easter, but this post took on a life of its own. I ended up in a place I hadn’t anticipated. I started thinking about religion, and about how my own beliefs came to be, hoping to share some of what Easter means to me, and ended up realizing how much of myself I really put into my writing. I haven’t a clue how I got here. Lol  

Do you put a lot of yourself into your writing? I write fiction. Made up people living made up lives, yet, I’ve come to realize that my characters often get quite a lot of me. It somehow always manages to surprise me. I’m an emotional writer. I’m told it’s what I do best, though my recent round of edits made me realize I still have a long way to go.

As a side note here, I’ll pass on a bit of what I’ve learned—editors don’t want on the surface. They want deep. Even if you think you’ve dug deep…dig deeper. For Risking It All, my editor asked me to add all the emotion, all the motivation, behind everything my characters did and thought.  

Back to my point: I can’t help but put my heart into my stories. So it was with Risking It All. I just completed the first round of edits for this book. It got a whopping 18, 000 words added to it (I may have mentioned that before), a lot of which, went into fleshing out the heroine, Cecelia’s character and her journey through her discovery of her past and herself. And as I write this, I’m realizing she and I are quite a lot alike. She’s a soft spoken character, someone with a lot of fears and uncertainties, and she suffers from PTSD. She witnessed the murder of her parents when she was young, and the trauma and grief it left behind caused parts of her to shut down.

Image courtesy of Idea go
I hadn’t set out to write her that way. I’ve said it before. I’m a character writer. These people aren’t fiction to me. At least, they don’t feel like it. To quote my editor, who summed it up beautifully, I live and breathe their world. They’re with me day and night. They tell me their stories and I see it as my job to tell it in the best way possible.

Turns out, Cecelia’s another of my characters who ended up getting a lot of herself from me. She doesn’t remember much of anything before her seventh birthday (neither do I). She lives only with a sense of longing and loss she doesn’t understand, and a yearning to find something because the emptiness in her heart demands it. She also suffers from PTSD and because she doesn’t know or understand where the hurt and longing comes from, her disorder is also disjointed. She suffers nightmares, horrific images of things that feel familiar, but for which she has no memory. Night after night, she witnesses her parents’ murder again and again, but doesn’t realize it’s actually a memory. She has a fear of guns she can’t shake, despite that her best friend (the hero, Kyle) wears one every day. And she lives with a longing in her heart she can’t reconcile.

Truth is, I originally wrote this book ten years ago, before my own disorder took over my life. Before I gained my own understanding. I’ve discovered quite a lot about myself since then, learned so much more about my PTSD and how it works. My disorder was always an elusive thing to me. I had a spell during my college days where I experienced things that, frankly, made me feel as if I was losing my mind. Back when I was around 21 or so, my flashbacks were vivid and corporeal. Sitting in my room in my college apartment, I saw things my rational mind told me shouldn’t be there. Such was the way my disorder ended up being. It’s not straightforward for me, the way they tell it in the books. My flashbacks aren’t full bodied, but, like Cecelia’s, disjointed. I experience parts of things, but not the whole memory, because, really, I don’t have the physical memories.

And so it ended up being for Cecelia. And so when I fleshed out her story this time, I was able to put a lot more understanding behind it. I put a lot into adding more detail into how she discovers herself and her past. I put more life into showing her journey. Though, I have to thank my editor for showing me where I needed it.

I put a lot of myself in another upcoming novel as well. Someone to Rely On is scheduled to release March of next year. We’re still in the process of signing the contract. This I know I’ve said before. Colt and Rachel’s story got the most of me. Colt is, essentially, me. Though, this particular book wasn’t easy to write. Again, I didn’t plan it. I started out writing the book one way, but characters, they’re finicky people. Colt took over my book. This book required me to live the ugly. I tried to skim over the hard things with this book, then someone pointed out all it did was leave them unable to connect, and I realized I was going to have to dig deep. Hardest book I’ve ever written. I’m told this one, though, is fairly dark. I look forward to seeing where my editor at Crimson takes my edits.

Yeah. Hi. I’m that weird gal who enjoys editing. Lol Though I enjoy it mostly because I enjoy watching the story take life. The biggest thing I've learned in writing...is to trust your heart. Take in what people tell you, but follow the urging of your soul. Let it speak. 

All of which has me wondering…. I read books that are purely fiction and I can’t help but wonder. Am I the only writer who does that? Who puts so much of herself on the page? What about you? Do you put a lot of yourself into your writing? Or is it an escape for you? As a reader, do you ever wonder where a writer’s stories come from? We all draw inspiration from somewhere. What adds realism to your stories?

Friday, April 18, 2014

Favorite Hero Friday Free-for-All! #heroes #FavoriteHeroFriday #freepromoday

Image courtesy of Ambro
Favorite heroes. Let's face it, ladies. We romance readers love our heroes. They're half the reason we read romance. Or is that just me? ;) So, I created Favorite Hero Friday. If you're a regular visitor or you know me personally, you probably know this, but for those who don't, here’s how you play:

1. Tell readers about a favorite hero you’ve read. Come on. Think about your all time favorite book. What makes that hero so darn sexy? 

I'll tell you mine. Jamie Fraser, of Diana Gabaldon's Outlander. I've read that book a dozen times over the years and I swoon every single time. He's imperfect. He's very passionate, gives 100% to everything he does, and he can be hotheaded, but he's brave and strong and he'll fight to the death for the people he loves. He makes personal sacrifices for them without blinking an eye. Yet he's kind and he can be very gentle and he's almost innocent when it comes to love. 


Oh. Pardon me. I got lost there for a moment. Where was I? Oh yeah...

2. Now tell readers about a favorite hero YOU'VE written. And yes, I know. This is like trying to choose a favorite child or a favorite of your pets. It's not really possible. Mine are usually the hero of the moment. But pick one anyway. Which hero stands out in your mind?

I'll share here as well. Jackson Kade, from my upcoming novel Whatever It Takes. I just sent my editor cover art facts on him, so he's been on my mind. I adored writing Jackson. He's a southern gent, born and raised in Savannah Georgia, but I wouldn't exactly call him a gentleman. ;) He's a flirt and he enjoys being just a little risque when he does it. He's also not perfect. He's a workaholic whose never been told he was loved. Raised by parents who were emotionally unavailable, who, as he says, wanted an heir not a child, he doesn't know how to show love, because he's never been shown it. And it cost him the woman he loved. But he's a romantic at heart. He's my most romantic hero and he enjoyed sweeping the heroine, Becca, clean off her feet. I had so much fun writing this book. 

Now, as most of you know already, I usually I schedule authors one by one, but today’s guest had to cancel. So, I’ve decided to do a free for all. Leave a comment and answer those questions. Be sure to include a buy link to YOUR book, so readers can check out your hot heroes! 

Ready, set…GO! 

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Interview with author Savannah Young #romance #cowboys #countryband

Hey guys! I'm pleased to have with me romance author Savannah Young, here to share a bit about herself and her new release, The Wilde One, book 1 one of her Old Town Country Romance series. Welcome, Savannah!

If you had to describe yourself, what three words would you use?
Tenacious, Caring, Thoughtful

Who’s your favorite author and/or what’s your favorite book?
I would have to say my favorite author is Oscar Wilde. My favorite book is The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

When did you first consider yourself a writer?
Before I started writing novels, I wrote stage plays. I would say I felt like a “real” writer when my first stage play was produced.

If you could do your journey to getting published all over again, is there anything you’d do differently?
Everything is a learning experience! Sometimes you learn the most from “failures.” Luckily, I’ve had a lot of “learning experiences.” J

How many books have you written? Do you have a favorite?
I’ve written 26 books. A few of them haven’t been published yet. It’s hard to pick a favorite but if I had to select one, I’d probably pick Fire on Ice (which I wrote as Dakota Madison).

Are you a plotter or a pantser?
More of a pantser.

What’s one thing readers would be surprised to learn about you?
I work as a university professor.

What’s your writing routine like?
I wake up every morning between 4:30 and 5:00 am and write for a few hours before I get ready for work. I also try to write on my lunch hour when I can.

What makes a book great in your eyes?
I love books that make me feel something. I also like strong female characters.

What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
I spend time with my husband and our bloodhounds. I like to read, watch movies and travel.

How about some fun questions. Let’s do some favorites:

Favorite car? Anything that runs!
Favorite scent? Cinnamon
Favorite movie? The Wizard of Oz
Favorite dish? Rice, hummus and black olives
Favorite superhero? Thor
Favorite candy bar? I don’t eat candy.


THE WILDE ONE is the second novel in the spicy contemporary romance series about four sexy brothers, their small-town bar and their local country band. Each novel in the OLD TOWN COUNTRY ROMANCE series can be read as a STAND ALONE NOVEL or as part of the SERIES.


Tucker Wilde joined the United States Army right out of high school and was injured in Iraq. But more than just his leg was shattered in the Middle East. The war also crushed his spirit and damaged his soul. When a strange couple arrives at his family’s bar, Haymakers, Tucker can see signs of mental and emotional abuse and is immediately drawn to the lovely but fragile girl seated at his bar.

Gracie Parker has been a victim of abuse her entire life. When her boyfriend, Dex, beats her in the parking lot of Haymakers and abandons her, it’s almost too much for the nineteen-year-old to bear. That is until Tucker appears like a warrior knight from the darkness to save her.

Tucker and Gracie are two broken people who are immediately drawn together. But their relationship and even their very lives are threatened by Dex who will stop at nothing to get Gracie back.

If you like your trucks loud, your beer cold and your men hot...you'll love THE WILDE ONE.

Buy link: 


“You look different,” Savage says, then downs the last of his pint of ale.
“Different how?” I prod even though I have an idea what he’s going to say. I look more normal. Like I fit into society rather than looking like an outcast.
Savage shrugs. He’s never been a person of many words. We’re like two peas in a pod that way. Even though he rarely says very much, with just one sideways glance Savage can have the biggest and meanest guys on the planet shaking in their cowboy boots.
People say that about me too.
“Do you want another?” I ask, even though I can guess his response. Savage always orders two pints and drinks them at the far corner of the bar. There are worse ways of coping with the past than drinking a few beers every night before he goes home to an empty apartment. I should know. I’m a master of poor coping skills.
“Hit me,” Savage says.
I pour him another pint and take away the empty.
“You look good.”
I’m surprised by the compliment. I’d never use the word good to describe anything about me. But I do look better than I have since I got back from Iraq.
“Drink your beer,” I tell him because I’m not in the mood to explain what’s been going on in my life.
Savage was in Iraq about the same time I was and he’s the closest thing I’ve got to a friend. I’m not one for relationships. Life is too short and relationships are too painful. When you get close to someone, you usually just end up getting hurt.
But like me, Savage isn’t the type of guy who gets too close to people. The most obvious reason is the way he looks: he’s big and scary. Also just like me.
Savage and I lift weights together, and in a fight it would be a close match. Not that either of us would ever start a fight but we would definitely end one if we had to.
It’s a weeknight and the bar is almost deserted except for a few of the regulars. That’s why I’m surprised when I see a couple I don’t recognize walk in and look around. The guy’s wearing all leather and carrying two helmets, so he’s obviously a biker. He looks about my height, six feet two inches and he’s big. The girl looks tiny standing next to him. She’s the definition of the word waif. She looks like a strong wind could pick her up and blow her away. Not a good thing in Old Town where it’s windy most of the time.
The most interesting thing about her, though, is her coloring. I’ve never seen someone so fair in my life. I’m the only blond in my family but I’m not even close to this girl. Her long hair is so light it’s practically white. And her skin is the color of milk. She looks like a princess who just stepped out of a fairytale, as corny as that sounds.
I can’t help but notice that she doesn’t look like she wants to be here. Or maybe she doesn’t want to be with the guy. It’s hard to tell. But she doesn’t look happy. If anything, she looks scared. 
As the couple steps closer to the bar, I can see the girl is shaking. I’m not sure whether she’s shaking because she’s scared, or because it’s January and it’s freezing outside and she’s wearing a tiny spring jacket that barely fits. It almost looks like a jacket for a kid it’s so small on her. Not that she’s much bigger than a kid herself.
What kind of a jerk wears a thick leather jacket while he lets his girl freeze? I’m really not liking this guy at all. And when I see him grab her by the elbow, so roughly she almost comes off the floor, I can feel every hair on my body stand at attention.
Is it possible to hate a guy I don’t even know?
About the author:

Romance novelist Savannah Young grew up in rural northwest New Jersey in a place very similar to the fictional Old Town, which is featured in her books. When she's not at her computer creating spicy stories, Savannah is traveling to exotic locales or spending time with her husband and their bloodhounds.