esephardbooks: March 2016

Wednesday, March 23, 2016

^^ Ebook Download Texas Brides: The Rancher & The Runaway Bride\The Bluest Eyes In Texas, by Joan Johnston

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Tate Whitelaw has had enough of her older brothers' constant interference in her life. It's enough to drive a woman crazy...and straight into the arms of hardened rancher Adam Phillips. Adam is in no mood to rescue a damsel in distress, but when three Whitelaw brothers come to take their wayward sister home, Adam's heart has other ideas and he can't imagine losing the only woman who has ever sparked a light in his life.

Sales Rank: #106166 in Books
Published on: 2005-10-01
Original language: English
Number of items: 1
Dimensions: .91" h x 6.48" w x 9.80" l,
Binding: Hardcover
304 pages

Review
". . . fabulous details and atmosphere, memorable characters, a story that you wish would never end, and lots of tension and sensuality." -- Romantic Times

"Joan Johnston [creates] unforgettable subplots and characters who make every fine thread weave into a touching tapestry." -- Affaire de Coeur

"Joan Johnston does short contemporary Westerns to perfection." -- Publishers Weekly

"Johnston warms your heart and tickles your fancy." -- New York Daily News

About the Author
Joan Johnston is the top ten New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than 50 novels and novellas with more than 15 million copies of her books in print. She has been a director of theatre, drama critic, newspaper editor, college professor and attorney on her way to becoming a full-time writer. You can find out more about Joan at her Website, www.joanjohnston.com or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/joanjohnstonauthor

Most helpful customer reviews

16 of 18 people found the following review helpful.
delightful western romance
By A Customer
Twenty-three years old Tate Whitelaw is tired of the over-protection of her three older brothers, who make it impossible for her to have any fun. Deciding she needs to escape, she leaves Hawk's Way only to land in the arms of another alpha male, Adam Philips, who lost his beloved when she fell in love and married Tate's brother Jesse (see HONEY AND THE HIRED HAND). Tate likes having Adam overly protect her, especially his hugs and kisses, unlike her siblings who just seem in the way.

Adam wonders if he is fickle because he loved Honey forever, but finds himself needing Tate even more. He knows that she is ignorant that Jesse is living nearby and realizes he owes her the truth, but fears she will leave him if only to see Jesse.

When Tate meets Honey she invites her and her spouse to come to dinner at Adam's spread. Instead an irate Jesse arrives demanding she leaves, as he is positive his former rival is using his sister as a means of getting even. Tate believes her host loves her, but Jesse refuses to back down.

This reprint of a delightful western romance will please readers due to the antics of Tate's brothers who return with a shotgun and a priest. The lead couple is a fine romantic duo although Adam has problems believing he could be so shallow as to fall in love so fast after losing the courtship of Honey that even he thinks he is on the rebound. Though it would be better to first read HONEY AND THE HIRED HAND to better understand the motives of Adam and Jesse, sub-genre fans will enjoy the return to Hawk's way.

Harriet Klausner

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Texas Brides
By Jan
If you're looking for a light, romantic story, this book contains two good ones. The second one develops characters from the first. Both have strong, romantic men and women.

Texas Brides: The Rancher & The Runaway BrideThe Bluest Eyes In Texas

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
romance and brides
By Kindle Customer
This book is a typical romance with several unusual twists, believable most of the time. It is easy to lose yourself in these stories. I have reread the book already, and shared with the other readers in the campground.

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^ Free PDF The CEO's Unexpected Child (Billionaires and Babies), by Andrea Laurence

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CLAIMING HIS CHILD…AT ANY COST

A shocking fertility clinic mix-up has resulted in Luca Moretti fathering a child with a woman he's never met. There's no way the CEO will walk away from his baby girl. But he has thirty days to convince her distractingly beautiful mother to do exactly what he wants.

Widow Claire Douglas is still reeling from the loss of her husband when she discovers a stranger has fathered her child. And the rich bachelor will stop at nothing to gain joint custody. How can she possibly fight a man with such money and power…and a charm she can't resist?

Sales Rank: #1385358 in Books
Published on: 2016-03-08
Original language: English
Number of items: 1
Dimensions: 6.57" h x .52" w x 4.24" l, .21 pounds
Binding: Mass Market Paperback
192 pages

About the Author
Andrea Laurence is an award winning contemporary author who has been a lover of books and writing stories since she learned to read. She always dreamed of seeing her work in print and is thrilled to be able to share her books with the world. A dedicated West Coast girl transplanted into the Deep South, she's working on her own "happily ever after" with her boyfriend and five fur-babies. You can contact Andrea at her website: http://www.andrealaurence.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
"I don't care, Stuart. I'm not letting a total stranger just take my daughter from me."

Claire Douglas's lawyer, Stuart Ewing, patted her on the hand. He had a grandfatherly way about him, an easygoing attitude that belied the fact that he was a courtroom barracuda. She had a lot of faith and money invested in the man, but that didn't mean she wasn't terrified deep down.

"We'll work something out, Claire. I just need you to keep your cool when we go in there. Don't let your emotions get the best of you."

Claire frowned. Keeping her emotions in check was not exactly her specialty. She'd been bombarded with emotions over the past two years. Her life had become a roller coaster from the moment she found out she was pregnant. After years of failed fertility treatments, it had been their last chance. That moment had been the highest of highs.

Her husband dying in a car accident when she was five months pregnant was the lowest of lows. Especially the painful revelations that followed it. The birth of her daughter had been the only thing that pulled her out of that dark place, giving her a reason to be joyful and live her life again.

But she'd never expected this. The disclosure of the mistake they'd made at the fertility clinic had changed her whole life. It had made her a millionaire, and at the same time had threatened the stability of her small family.

"Mrs. Douglas? Mr. Ewing? They're ready for you." The receptionist at the front desk gestured to a set of double doors that led to a conference room.

There, Claire presumed, waited the man who was trying to take her child and the lawyer he'd hired to help him. She felt her stomach roll, threatening to return the coffee and bagel she'd forced down her throat that morning.

"Come on, Claire," Stuart said, pushing up from the waiting-room chair. "Everything is going to be fine. You're not going to lose your daughter."

Claire nodded, trying to act calm and assured, though she was anything but. There were no guarantees. They were marching into a room where Edmund Harding was waiting for them. He was the kind of lawyer every billionaire in Manhattan had on speed dial. Harding had such a level of prestige and influence that he could probably get the courts to do anything he wanted.

Scooping up her purse, she forced her trembling hands into tight fists at her sides and followed Stuart into the conference room.

The room was elegant and intimidating, with a large rectangular glass table that cut it in two like a blade. There was no question that it divided everything into their side and their opponents' side. There were plush leather rolling chairs lining the table, but at the moment all of them were empty.

Claire's gaze drifted to the large, floor-to-ceiling windows on the left side of the room. A man stood in front of it, looking out over Central Park. She couldn't make out any of his features, just the hulking shape of his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The man was tall, his arms crossed over his chest. He emitted an intense energy that Claire picked up on immediately.

"Ah, Mrs. Douglas," a voice called. "Mr. Ewing, please have a seat."

Claire turned toward the voice and found a man on the other side of the room. He was gathering paperwork in his hands and carrying it to the table. The man had a certain studious look about him that convinced her that he was the infamous Edmund Harding. That meant the man by the window had to be…

"Luca, we're ready to begin," Edmund said.

As Claire settled into her seat, the man at the window finally turned. When he did, Claire was very glad she was already sitting. The face that regarded her was like a Florentine masterpiece of the Renaissance. He had a square, clean-shaven jaw and high cheekbones that looked as if they were carved out of marble. Dark brows hovered over narrowed eyes that crinkled at the edges.

Those eyes ran over Claire for a moment, then turned away, disinterested. He strode to the conference table and sat beside his lawyer.

This was the father of her child?

She almost couldn't believe it, and yet her daughter's dark curls and olive complexion certainly hadn't come from her.

"Before we begin, can my assistant bring anyone anything? Water? Coffee?" Edmund asked.

"No, thank you," Claire said quietly.

"Coffee, black," the man across the table demanded. No niceties, no please or thank you. He seemed very much to be the kind of man who was used to getting what he wanted.

He wouldn't get his way this time. Claire was determined not to let this man get his hooks into her daughter. He didn't even know Eva. How could he possibly get custody of her?

The assistant brought Luca a mug of black coffee and silently disappeared as quickly as she arrived.

"Thank you for coming today," Edmund began as the door clicked shut. "We asked to meet with you in person because we feel as though our prior communications aren't having the impact they should. Mr. Moretti is very serious about pursuing his joint custody filing."

Being served with papers that said a stranger was demanding custody of her daughter had nearly floored her. When she had learned the truth about the mix-up at the fertility clinic, a part of her had hoped that the biological father would be disinterested in Eva. She found out quickly that was not going to be the case.

"Don't you think that filing was premature?" Stuart asked. "He hasn't even met the child, but he thinks he should have joint custody?"

"He would've met his daughter weeks ago if your client had cooperated with our requests. We had no choice but to do something Mrs. Douglas couldn't continue to ignore."

The two lawyers continued to argue, but Claire found her attention was drawn to the silent force sitting across from her. While his lawyer did all the talking, Luca Moretti leaned back in his chair and studied Claire. His dark hazel eyes ran over every inch of her. She did her best to hold still, not wanting to squirm or show any sign of weakness in front of him.

Instead, she focused on studying him just as closely. It was so easy to see pieces of him in Eva. When her daughter was born, Claire had been confused by the baby they handed her, with the head of dark, curly hair. Claire had dark honey-blond hair. Her husband, Jeff, had light brown hair. Neither was olive skinned nor had a cleft in their chin, but Eva did.

But all her confusion and worry disappeared the moment she looked into her daughter's gray eyes. She fell in love that instant, and no longer cared what Eva looked like because she was perfect. For all Claire knew, Jeff had Spanish or Italian blood he'd never told her about.

The doubts hadn't arisen in her mind again until the clinic called three months later. They'd informed her that their last vial of sperm was due for destruction in three months if they didn't use it. They hadn't opted to pay the lifetime storage fees because they'd intended to use it all fairly quickly.

The call confused her because they'd used their last dose when they conceived Eva. That information had raised red flags, and it wasn't long until they discovered the truth—her husband's sperm had a number transposed on the paperwork and another client's sperm was used instead.

Luca Moretti's, to be exact.

The thought sent a chill through her. The man had never touched her and yet a part of him had been inside her. What was a man like Luca doing at a fertility clinic, anyway? Putting himself through college by selling sperm for cash? Every inch of his body, from his broad shoulders to his hard jaw, screamed the kind of masculinity she hadn't been exposed to in a very long time, if ever. With the right look, Claire was certain he could make a woman's ovaries explode. If a man like Luca needed the services of a fertility clinic, a lesser man didn't stand a chance with his own progeny.

And yet, he was there. When the news broke, Luca had focused his attention on the fertility clinic. He'd sent Edmund after them and before Claire knew it, the clinic was begging to settle out of court and keep the scandal quiet. She had instantly gone from a comfortable middle-class woman, to someone who didn't need to work another day in her life.

But then Luca turned his legal bulldogs on her. Claire wouldn't back down, though. She didn't care if it cost her every penny of her settlement battling in court. Eva was her baby. It was hard enough trying to deal with the revelation of her daughter's paternity. She was still trying to work through her anger and confusion about Jeff's death. How could she tell Jeff's parents that Eva wasn't their biological granddaughter? She had a lot on her plate already. She didn't need Luca coming out of nowhere and making demands about her child.

"There's got to be a happy medium," Stuart said, pulling her attention back into the conversation.

"My client isn't open to negotiating any terms that don't involve providing him with visits with his daughter."

"My daughter." Claire spoke up with all the force she could muster. She felt Stuart's hand covering hers, trying to calm her, but it wasn't going to help. "Eva is my daughter. I'm not just going to hand her over to some stranger. I don't know anything about this man. He could be a serial killer or some kind of pervert. Would you just hand over your child to a stranger, Mr. Harding?"

Edmund was startled by her outburst, but the sound that caught her attention was the snort of laughter from the man beside him. It was the first noise Luca had made since he demanded his coffee. When she turned to look at him, she noticed a sparkle of interest in his eyes and a hint of amusement curling a corner of his full lips. He was no longer just studying her, he actually seemed…intrigued by her.

"I can assure you that my client is no criminal, Mrs. Douglas. He is the CEO of the nation's largest family-owned Italian restaurant chain, Moretti's Italian Kitchen."

Claire turned away from Luca's intense stare. It was unnerving her, and this was no time for her to be compromised. So, he was a hotshot restaurateur. Good for him. But what difference did that make when it came to his character? Success didn't make him a saint. "So you're presuming that rich businessmen can't be murderers or child molesters? I counter that they just have better lawyers."

"My client is willing to cooperate to soothe your concerns, Mrs. Douglas. We're not the bad guys here. We're just trying to ensure that Eva is in Mr. Moretti's life. We welcome you to have a background check conducted. You won't find anything questionable. But when you don't find the skeletons you're looking for, you're going to have to let him see Eva."

"And if Mrs. Douglas doesn't cooperate?"

Claire held her breath, waiting to see what they would say. Would they push her or back down until their court date?

"Then," Edmund explained, "we stop playing nice. I'll file an emergency visitation motion to compel access to Eva and let the courts decide. You can be certain the judge will give my client even more time with his daughter than we're requesting. It's your choice, Mrs. Douglas."

So this was Claire Douglas.

Luca had to admit he was surprised. Her name had been on his mind and crossed his desk a hundred times since the mix-up came to light. He didn't know what he was expecting the widowed Mrs. Douglas to look like, but young, slender and blonde had not been on the list. It had taken everything he had to hold his composure when he turned from the window and saw her standing there.

Her practical gray suit clung to every delicious curve and almost exactly matched the shade of her eyes. Her honey-colored hair was twisted back into a professional bun at her nape. He wanted to pull out the hair pins and let the blond waves tumble over her shoulders.

The longer he sat watching Claire, the more curious he became about her. How had a woman so young become a widow? Was she always this uptight, or was it just because she didn't like him? He wanted to run his thumb between her eyebrows to smooth the crease her serious frown had worn there.

It made him wonder if their daughter looked more like him or her. Did she have Claire's porcelain skin and pert nose? Did her ears turn red when she got angry the way her mother's did? The furious shift in Claire had immediately caught his attention. There was more fire in her than the bland gray suit would indicate.

"Can they do that?" Claire asked, turning to her lawyer. She looked completely panicked by the thought of Luca having access to their child.

Their child.

It seemed so wrong for him to have a child with a woman he'd never met. Luca hadn't even given any serious thought to having a family. He'd only stored his sperm to make the doctors and his mother feel better. He hadn't actually expected to use it.

But now that he had a living, breathing child, he wasn't about to sit back and pretend it didn't happen. Eva was probably the only child he would ever have, and he'd already missed months of her life. That would not continue.

"We can and we will." Luca spoke up at last. "This whole thing is a mess that neither of us anticipated, but it doesn't change the facts. Eva is my daughter, and I've got the paternity test results to prove it. There's not a judge in the county of New York who won't grant me emergency visitation while we await our court date. They will say when and where and how often you have to give her to me."

Claire sat, her mouth agape at his words. "She's just a baby. She's only six months old. Why fight me for her just so you can hand her over to a nanny?"

Luca laughed at her presumptuous tone. "What makes you so certain I'll have a nanny for her?"

"Because… " she began. "You're a rich, powerful, unmarried businessman. You're better suited to run a corporation than to change a diaper. I'm willing to bet you don't have the first clue of how to care for an infant, much less the time."

Luca just shook his head and sat forward in his seat. "You know very little about me, tesorina, you've said so yourself, so don't presume anything about me. Besides, even if I have a nanny, it doesn't matter because Eva is my daughter, too. I'm going to fight for the right to see her even if all I do is pass her off to someone else. Like it or not, you don't get any say into what I do when I have her."

Most helpful customer reviews

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Four Stars
By Angela
Not bad. Quick read.

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
3,5 ***
By Books And Spoons
I nteresting, different kind of set up in the story, somehow it sounds like the worst nightmare for anyone using a fertility clinic, I would imagine.
I loved the big, loud, curious, Italian family, how they just took their place in the novel, was outrageously fun.
And the whole story is filled with passion and abundant with love towards family. I enjoyed the characters, I enjoyed the beach life they were living, the Italian food they were consuming, and the joy of discovering an impossible dream come true. Luca is adorable with little Eva, they obviously enjoy each other and have the bond from the first moment they meet.
Claire and Luca have attraction, also from the first moment they meet. And that is rather awkward, since it is with their lawyers.
I liked that there was more to the story, for both of them, Luca and Claire, than what just meets the eye. There were old disappointments, hurt, pain, and sorrow, not with each other, but in both of their pasts. They both dealt with the issues on their own way, and shared with each other as they got to know each other. I liked how Claire stood up for herself, and seemed to get more steam under her wings as the story moved on. I wish there would have been just a bit more details into their relationship, little more details, to make it more believable.
An entertaining, fun, quick read, with some deeper issues to be dealt with, loving family to meddle in the affairs, and endless summer days at the warm beach
~ Three Spoons with a teaspoon on the side

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Very Good - Highly Recommend
By The eBook Investigator
***4.25 Stars***

This was an interesting read about a subject that has affected many people who have depended on fertility clinics and cryo banks to preserve sperm and embryos for the hope of a future pregnancy. This one had a twist and it was interesting to see how these two worked through the unexpected news.

Claire Douglas and her husband had not been successful in starting a family and decided to go through fertility treatments. She finally conceived through artificial means, but in her fifth month of pregnancy her husband was killed in a car accident. She received some devastating news involving the crash and after her daughter’s birth more troubling news was delivered. There had been a mix up at the clinic and her deceased husband was not the biological father of her child.

Luca Moretti was shocked when he was informed his sperm had been inadvertently used in a pregnancy and subsequent child. His samples had been stored at the clinic since he was a teen and had gone through an illness, his mother wanting to preserve his chance at fatherhood. Luca wants to be in his daughter’s life regardless of the way it came about but Claire is not having any of that. She is determined to have her daughter to herself and doesn’t seem to understand that the child is as much his as it is hers.

I loved Luca’s and Claire’s journey and highly recommend you read this book.

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Monday, March 21, 2016

## Download PDF Too Good to Be True (Hqn), by Kristan Higgins

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Too Good to Be True (Hqn), by Kristan Higgins

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How far would you go to get over a guy?

When Grace Emerson's ex-fiancé starts dating her younger sister, extreme measures are called for. To keep everyone from obsessing about her love life, Grace announces that she's seeing someone. Someone wonderful. Someone handsome. Someone completely made up. Who is this Mr. Right? Someone…exactly unlike her renegade neighbor Callahan O'Shea. Well, someone with his looks, maybe. His hot body. His knife-sharp sense of humor. His smarts and big heart.

Whoa. No. Callahan O'Shea is not her perfect man! Not with his unsavory past. So why does Mr. Wrong feel so…right?

Sales Rank: #550794 in Books
Published on: 2012-12-18
Released on: 2012-12-18
Original language: English
Number of items: 1
Dimensions: 6.62" h x 1.12" w x 4.21" l, .40 pounds
Binding: Mass Market Paperback
416 pages

Features

Paper back
Kristina Higgins
Too Good to be True

From Booklist
Three weeks before her wedding, Grace’s fiancé calls it off to date her younger, prettier sister. Grace is a history teacher, and the only males she meets are her teenage students, elderly men at the dance class her friend teaches at the nursing home, and guys at her Civil War reenactment-society battles, where it’s hard to flirt when they have to play dead. Sick of being pitied, she tells everyone that she’s happily involved with a pediatric surgeon. Cheeky, cute, and satisfying, Higgins’ romance is perfect entertainment for a girl’s night in. --Hilary Hatton

Review
"Cheeky, cute, and satisfying, Higgins's romance is
perfect entertainment for a girl's night in."
-Booklist on Too Good to Be True

"Romance fans and lovers of women's fiction will devour this witty and tender novel. Highly recommended." -Library Journal on Somebody to Love, starred review

"A funny, poignant romance."
-Publishers Weekly on My One and Only, starred review

About the Author

Kristan Higgins is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author and two-time winner of the Romance Writers of America RITA Award. Her books have been praised for their "genius level EQ, whippet-fast, funny dialogue and sweet plots with a deliciously tart edge" (USA TODAY). She lives in Connecticut with her heroic firefighter husband and two extremely advanced children, one shy little mutt and an occasionally affectionate cat.

Most helpful customer reviews

64 of 67 people found the following review helpful.
so good, for real!
By she reads
Before I talk about this book specifically know that Kristan Higgins writes from the heroine's perspective only, has very modest 'romance' scenes, and writes characters that feel real and are so relatable. Her heroines are not perfect, they have real interests and friends, and I can identify with aspects of each one.

Too Good to be True is set in beautiful New England we meet Grace- a history teaching, civil war re-enacting, dog loving, and boyfriend inventing girl with frizzy hair and some mild middle child issues. When she is cornered she finds herself inventing a perfect boyfriend that she wishes she had, that is until she really starts getting to know Callahan her supah-hot neighbor.

This book had me laughing, relating, sympathizing with, and outright loving Grace, Callahan, and the entire cast of supporting characters. With details, funny moments, interesting plot twists and a grand finale I didn't totally see coming- Kristan Higgins scores big with this novel.

36 of 37 people found the following review helpful.
Really truly worth buying.
By Cristin B.
Kristan Higgins' work is light, fresh, charming and not overworked--the romantic equivalent of good mint chocolate chip ice cream, delicious but not cloying. She is improving with each book and while I enjoyed each of her earlier works, this one really is the best of the bunch. Grace is a great heroine, neither a self-loathing spaz (per the chick lit formula) nor a freakishly over-perfect paragon who just doesn't know how darned gorgeous and flawless she really is until the hero clues her in to her magnificence (gag). Her reasons for resisting her attraction to Callahan are actually pretty sensible, not contrived just to keep the lovers apart. Really, just so very enjoyable.

35 of 37 people found the following review helpful.
I think I'd give it a "6" if that were possible
By Jersey Lou
Kristan Higgins does, indeed, get better with each book. No, this isn't Rocket Science or Philosophy, but in the contemporary romance category, she's coming up fast through the ranks.

Her characters are real - which means they are flawed, and there are awkward moments in the story. I like that! It's a nice break from romances with perfect people in story lines where the basic conflict stems from one very frustrating failure in communication!

The story is told in the first person, from the perspective of the heroine. Normally, I don't really enjoy that, but Higgins does it so well that by the end of the first sentence in the book I was over it.

"Too Good To Be True" was a fast, enjoyable read. I read it through, cover to cover, this evening and was sad to see the story come to an end. I often find, with romance stories, that the hero is 'too good to be true' and the heroine is so annoying I want to strangle her. In this case, I loved both Callahan and Grace. Callahan is funny, kind, sensitive, perceptive and honorable, but he's not perfect - he's distrustful, defensive, and quick to jump to conclusions (understandable, given his situation, but not perfect). Grace is a great teacher, a loving sister, a good friend, but she's got middle sister issues and some minor codependency struggles (how many of us don't?). I loved how the two of them work through his being an ex-con: her blundering through it and his struggle to maintain his dignity in the face of people's (especially Grace's) assumptions about it.

Higgins succeeds in making her characters more than one dimensional and injects some twists into the standard romance plotline. Grace's younger sister could've been written with no depth, but that's not the case. Her older sister, Margaret, could simply be a Type A, older sister, career driven witch, but she's not. With the exception, perhaps, of the men Grace meets through the internet dating site, Higgins' characters avoid the pitfalls of being all good or all bad. And, as another reviewer pointed out, the ending has a little twist I really didn't see coming...

If you're looking for a fun romance to cure your winter blues, pick up "Too Good To Be True"!

See all 237 customer reviews...

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Thursday, March 17, 2016

## Free PDF Ride The Thunder (Morgan's Mercenaries: Ultimate Rescue) (Silhouette Desire), by Lindsay Mckenna

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"A woman in my bed is one thing. But in my cockpit? Hell, no!" --Lieutenant Nolan Galway, United States Marine Corps

Sharing flight duty with beautiful Lieutenant Rhona McGregor was dangerous. But with lives at stake in the earthquake-shattered L.A. Basin, Nolan didn't have time to argue. He needed a copilot, and he'd just have to draw on his military discipline to keep his desires in check. But from their first death-defying flight, Nolan realized he and Rhona shared something even more powerful than passion. For suddenly his hard heart thundered with something that felt perilously like love....

Sales Rank: #1620799 in Books
Published on: 2002-09-01
Original language: English
Number of items: 1
Dimensions: .56" h x 4.12" w x 6.80" l,
Binding: Mass Market Paperback
192 pages

Most helpful customer reviews

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
I love this series
By Brenda Beavan
I have enjoyed this series of books for several years. I enjoy them just as much as the first time.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Good
By Amazon Customer
I read these out of sequence but it really didn't make a difference. I always enjoyed Trayhearn and his group of mercenaries and this just extends the storyline.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Worth the time
By Elaine Bramlet
I really enjoy Lindsay McKenna. This wasn't her best, nor her worst. It was (no surprise) fairly predictable but still was a fun afternoon read.

See all 7 customer reviews...

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What's the market price on a decent guy these days?

Maggie Beaumont's luck is about to change. Sure, she's known for her bad romantic choices—her former boyfriend broke up with her by bringing his new girlfriend home for a visit. And then there was the crush she had on a gorgeous young Irishman, who turned out to be Father Tim, the parish's new priest.

But romantic salvation has arrived in the form of handsome, if surly, fisherman Malone. It turns out there's a heart of gold underneath his barnacle-clad exterior. Will this catch of the day turn into the dish of a lifetime?

Sales Rank: #253843 in Books
Brand: Kristan Wiggins
Published on: 2012-02-28
Released on: 2012-02-28
Original language: English
Number of items: 1
Dimensions: 6.62" h x 1.00" w x 4.21" l, .40 pounds
Binding: Mass Market Paperback
384 pages

Review
"A funny, poignant romance....Readers will be cheering for Harper all the way."

- Publishers Weekly, on My One and Only, starred review

"A touching story brimming with smart dialogue, sympathetic characters, an engaging narrative and the amusing, often self-deprecating observations of the heroine. It's a novel with depth and a great deal of heart."

-RT Book Reviews (Top Pick, 4½ stars) on Catch of the Day

Winner-2008 Romance Writers of America RITA® Award

About the Author

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

"Good mornin', Maggie," Father Tim says, sliding into his usual booth. "Lovely out, isn't it?" He smiles pleasantly, and my insides clench.

"Good morning, Father Tim. What can I get for you today?"

"I think I'll be tryin' your French toast, shall I? Brilliant idea, the almond glaze."

That brogue is just not fair. "Thanks. I'll get that right in." I've had sinful thoughts about you. Again. I wrack my brain for something to say. "How was Mass this morning?"

He nods. "Ah, the celebration of the Eucharist always nurtures the spirit," he murmurs. "You're welcome to come and see for yourself, Maggie. I'd love to hear your thoughts on my homily any time."

Father Tim often urges me to drop by. Something stops me. Guilt, no doubt. I might be a lapsed Catholic, but I draw the line at having lustful thoughts about priests in church. "Well. Sure. One of these days. You bet."

"Mass can give a person a chance for some insight. Sometimes we tend to overlook what's important in life, Maggie. It's easy to lose perspective, if you take my meaning."

Oh, I do. Losing perspective is something at which I excel. Case in point—still in love with the priest. He looks ridiculously appealing in black, though granted, the white collar takes away some of the zing. Rolling my eyes at my own ridiculous thoughts, I turn away, fill a few coffee cups and slip into the kitchen, where Octavio is deftly flipping pancakes. "French toast for Father Tim," I tell him, grabbing an order of eggs on unbuttered toast. Returning to the counter area, I slide the plate in front of Stuart, one of my regulars. "Chicks on a raft, high and dry," I say. He nods appreciatively, a big fan of diner slang.

"Anything else for you, Mrs. Jensen?" I ask the seventy-year-old woman in the first booth. She frowns and shakes her head, and I leave her check on the table. Mrs. Jensen has come from church. She goes to confession every week. She's in Bible study and on the altar decoration committee. It seems I'm not the only one smitten with Father Tim.

Without meaning to, I look once again at the impossible ideal. He's reading the paper. Profiled against the window, his beauty sends a rolling warmth through me. If only you were a regular guy….

"He'll catch you looking," Rolly whispers, another regular fixture at my counter.

"That's okay," I admit. "It's not like it's a secret. Make sure you fill out a ballot, okay?" I tell Rolly, dragging my gaze off the object of my desire. "You, too, Stuart. I need all the votes I can get."

"Ayuh. Best coffee in the state," Rolly announces.

"Best breakfast, Rolly." I smile and pat his shoulder.

For the last two years, Joe's Diner has placed fourth in Maine Living's Best Breakfast contest, and I'm determined to win the county title this year. The magazine holds a lot of sway with tourists, and we could use a little more of the summer nuisance. Last year, we were creamed by Blackstone Bed & Breakfast in Calais (even though they make their pancakes from a box mix).

"We'll win, boss," Octavio calls through the window that links the counter area with the kitchen. "We do have the best breakfast."

I smile back at him. "True enough, but being the best-kept secret on coastal Maine isn't doing us much good financially."

"We'll be fine," he assures me. Easy for him to say. He makes more than I do, and he doesn't have to balance the books every month.

"Hey, Maggie, as long as you're up, can I get a refill?" asks Judy, my waitress. I oblige, then bring Father Tim his breakfast, sneak a glance at his smooth, elegant hands and scurry off to clear a table.

For the last eight years, I've run Joe's Diner, taking it over from Jonah Gray, my grandfather, after he had a heart attack. The diner is one of the larger employers in our tiny town, having four people on the payroll. Octavio is the most irreplaceable, running the kitchen with tireless efficiency. Judy came with the diner. She's somewhere between sixty and one hundred and twenty, gifted at not working, though when pressed, she can handle a full diner, not that we get that a lot. Georgie gets some help in the summer, when we hire a high school kid to deal with the light tourist business that makes it this far north.

And there's me, of course. I cook the daily specials, do all the baking, wait tables, balance the books, maintain the inventory and keep the place clean. Our final, though unofficial, employee is Colonel. My dog. My buddy. My precious boy. "Who's your mommy?" I ask him. "Huh, Colonel McKissy? Who loves you, pretty boy?" His tail thumps at my idiot talk, but he knows not to leave his place behind the register. A Golden Retriever takes up a lot of room, but most people don't even see Colonel, who has nicer manners than the queen of England. At thirteen, he's mellow, but he's always been incredibly well-behaved. I give him a piece of bacon and get back to work.

Father Tim rises to settle his check. "Hello, Gwen, love, how are you today? Don't you look smart in that lovely shade of yellow," he says to Mrs. Jensen, who simpers in pleasure. He smiles at me, and my knees soften. "I'll see you both tonight, won't I?"

"That's right," I answer. I may not be able to bring myself to Mass, but Father Tim has worn me down for Bible study. I stifle the urge to shake my head at myself. Bible study. My social plans for the week. Well, it's not like I'm turning away dozens of suitors. Sadly, Father Tim is closer to a boyfriend than anything I've had in some time.

"Nancy Ringley's bringing the snack?" Father Tim frowns.

"No." I smile. "I am. Her daughter's under the weather, so she called me."

His face lights up. "Ah, wonderful! About the snack, at any rate. Not her dear little daughter. I'll see you later, then, Maggie." He pats my shoulder with avuncular affection, causing lust and exhilaration to flow down my arm, and turns for the door. I love you, I mouth. I can't help myself.

Did he hear me? My face flushes in mortification as Father Tim glances back at me with a smile and a wink before going out into the cold. He waves as he crosses the street, ever kind where I'm concerned. Mrs. Jensen, who is not so tolerant, glares at me. I narrow my eyes in return. She doesn't fool me. We suffer from the same disease—I'm just a little more obvious.

It's a frigid March day, the wind howling off the water, slicing through the thickest wool hats and mi-crofiber gloves. Only a few brave souls venture out, and the day drags. We don't get more than a handful of people at lunch. I wait for Judy to finish her crossword puzzle before sending her home, as she's really only here for show, anyway. Octavio takes off his apron as I scrape the grill.

"Tavy, take the rest of the pie, okay? Your kids will like it," I tell him. He has five children.

"They will if they get to taste it. I already had two pieces." Octavio grins his engaging gap-tooth smile.

I grin back. "Did Judy get any more ballots?"

"I think she gave out a few."

"Great." I've been relentless in asking my patrons to fill them out. Last year we lost by two hundred votes, so I need every one who crosses the threshold to pitch in. "Have a nice afternoon, Octavio," I say.

"You, too, boss."

"Here, take these cookies, too." My cook grins his thanks, then goes out the back door.

Colonel knows what time it is. He gets up from his spot and comes over to me for a little pat, pushing his big head against my thighs. I stroke his white cheeks. "You're such a good boy, aren't you?" He wags in agreement, then returns to his spot, knowing I'll be a while yet.

I flip the Open sign to Closed and wipe down the last table. This is one of my favorite times of day…three o'clock. We're done for the day. Joe's opens at six, though I usually don't roll in until seven (the joys of ownership), but I make up my time by doing all the baking each afternoon. I'm proud to say that Joe's desserts are locally famous, especially the pies and coconut macaroons.

Joe's is a Jerry Mahoney design. Red-and-cream porcelain with stainless steel siding on the outside, red vinyl seats, cream-colored walls and a black-and-white tile floor on the inside. Ten swivel stools are bolted to the floor at the counter. At one end is the requisite pastry display case where my sweets tempt the patrons. There are seven booths with nice deep backs and seats that are just bouncy enough. At some point, my grandfather had those little jukeboxes installed and, as kids, we loved flipping through to see what the new selections were. The kitchen is through a swinging door with a porthole, and there's a tiny supply room and unisex bathroom. In the corner window, a neon sign blinks those timeless words, Eat at Joe's.

For the next half hour, I add up the receipts, check the inventory, print out more ballots and mop the floor. I play the jukeboxes as I work, singing along with Aretha and the Boss. Finally, I go back into the kitchen and start baking the desserts for tomorrow. And the snack for tonight.

Since Father Tim's face brightened when he heard I was on snack duty, I decide to do something special. In the tiny kitchen, I take out the necessary ingredients and set about making apricot squares, one of his favorites. Once those are in the oven, I roll out a few pie crusts and throw together a couple of blueberry pies.

Colonel's tail starts thumping, and I hear him scramble to get up off the tile floor. I reduce the heat on the pies and move them to a higher shelf so the bottom crusts won't burn. Without checking, I know my sister is about to come in.

I'm right, as I usually am about Christy. She's just pulling the baby stroller in through the door. We haven't seen each other for three entire days, which is a long spell when it comes to us. "Hey, Christy." I smile, holding the door for her.

"Hey, Mags," she answers. She glances at me, then does a double take. "Oh, for God's sake." She wrestles the carriage the rest of the way in, Violet sleeping undisturbed, and pulls off her hat. "Me, too."

My mouth drops open. "Christy!" We start laughing simultaneously, reaching for each other's hands at the same moment.

Christy and I are identical twins. And we are quite identical still, though Christy had a baby eight months ago. We weigh exactly the same, have the same bra size, shoe size, pants size. We each have a mole on our left cheeks. We both have a slightly crooked pinky on our right hands. Though Christy dresses a little better than I do, most people can't tell us apart. In fact, only Will, Christy's husband, has never once confused us. Even our parents goof once in a while, and, Jonah, who is younger by eight years, doesn't try awfully hard to distinguish us.

We often call each other only to get a busy signal because the other had the same thought at the same moment. Sometimes we get each other the same birthday card or pick out the same sweater from the L.L.

Bean catalog. If I buy tulips for my kitchen table, it's a good bet that Christy has done the same thing.

But once in a while, in order to create some sense of individuality, one of us will get the urge to try something new. And so, on Monday when the diner was closed, I went to Jonesport and got my hair layered a little, had a few highlights put in. Apparently Christy had the same thought. Once more, we are identical.

"When did you get yours done?" I ask.

"Yesterday. You?" She smiles as she reaches out to touch my new 'do.

"Monday, so the haircut is really mine." I grin as I say it. I don't mind. In fact, I've always kind of liked being mistaken for Christy. "I wear mine in a ponytail most of the time, anyway," I say. "Plus, you have better clothes."

"Unstained, anyway," she smiles, sitting at the counter. She takes off her coat and drapes it over the next stool. I go over to the stroller, which is one of those complicated Swedish affairs with everything from a wind guard to a cappuccino maker, and twist my head inside. Stretching my lips, I can just about kiss my sleeping niece. "Hello, angel," I whisper, worshiping her perfect skin and feathery eyelashes. "God, Christy, she gets more beautiful every day."

"I know," Christy answers smugly. "So what's new?"

"Oh, not much. Father Tim was in. I think he may have heard me tell him I love him."

"Oh, Maggie." Christy chuckles sympathetically. She knows better than to spout the platitudes that everyone else does… Why are you wasting your time on a priest? Can't you find somebody else? You really should meet someone, Maggie. Have you tried the Internet/volunteering/church/dating services/speed dating/singles clubs/singles nights/singles cruises/prostitution? (This last one was suggested by my brother's friend Stevie, who has been hitting on me since he was twelve years old.)

I've tried volunteering. And church, of course, contains the root of my problem. But singles nights and those speed dating things… Well, first of all, we don't have much of that in rural Maine. The nearest big city is Bar Harbor, and that's at least an hour and a half south, if the weather is clear. As for the Internet, those services smack of deceit. A person could say anything, after all. What better way to lie about yourself? How many stories have I heard about a person being sorely disappointed by his or her Internet date? So, while there may be merit in that venue, I've never tried it.

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55 of 56 people found the following review helpful.
Absolutely charming
By Tracy Vest
When it comes to love, nobody has worse luck than Maggie Beaumont. And unfortunately, most of her humiliations are public, providing her neighbors and friends with plenty of unplanned comic relief. Her first serious boyfriend broke up with her publicly when he brought his new girlfriend home for a visit after getting signed by the Boston Red Sox; and then there's the crush she has on her parish priest that has made her the laughing stock of her tiny Maine town (she unknowingly told everyone that she met her soul mate, not realizing he would be their new priest). And it doesn't help that she has an identical twin sister with a seemingly perfect life. The only guy she can count on is her lovable dog Colonel. And thank goodness she loves her work - running the family-owned diner that she painstakingly revitalized. When surly and silent lobsterman Malone rescues her from a blind date no show then plants a wet one on her with no notice, she suddenly finds his gruff personality hard to resist. Not much of a talker, she's not sure he just doesn't want a body to warm his bed.

Higgins sophomore effort is a bittersweet and humorous slice of life, proving that her success with "Fools Rush In" was no fluke. She had me laughing hysterically and in tears. Many readers can connect with Maggie and appreciate her quest for love (and to be voted best breakfast in Washington Country). "Maloner the Loner" is an intriguing character - at times sexy as hell (loved the hand cream scene). His lack of communication combined with Maggie's verbal diarrhea make for some hysterical situations, and I found myself trying to guess what his first name could possibly be (and glad it was revealed). Tossing in another secondary couple, as well as marital strife for Maggie's folks round the story out. Higgins is an auto buy for me!

18 of 18 people found the following review helpful.
Has some highs and some lows
By Jacqueline
I mostly enjoyed this book and parts of it brought tears to my eyes (the dog story line) but it really should be marketed as Chick-Lit not as a romance. The heroine spent very little time with the hero and it was difficult to see how she could have ever fallen in love with him given the sparse amount of time she spent with him. I loved the idea of his character but it was very underdeveloped. We never are shown why he is the way he is much less the heroine ever getting any conversation out of him that would show her the character of the man she's supposedly in love with for all of the maybe 40 pages of the book she spends with him.

Also I had a pretty hard time with how she kept embarrassing herself. I'm not real fond of wincing through an entire book.

Like the other book I read by this author, Too Good to be True, the heroine makes a mistake and the hero immediately condemns her and breaks up only to come back later and say never mind I changed my mind. If he were going to change his mind, he should have let her explain and tried to forgive her in the first place.

I did not like that the book was written in first person present tense. That's just hard to read. I prefer 3rd person but I can take first person past tense. But with 1st person present I can't help wondering if the heroine is wandering around with a piece of paper jotting notes to herself..."I walk in the room, I look to the left. Malcolm is here. He takes me in his arms and kisses me." Are you scribbling your notes on his back while he's doing so?

32 of 36 people found the following review helpful.
PLEASE do a book 2 for Maggie and Malone!!!!
By A. S. Thomas
Quick plot summary: Maggie, bighearted, single and devoted to her beloved golden retriever Colonel, lives in the small Maine town of Gideon's Cove, runs a diner and is always willing to whip a huge meal for the church supper, firemen or other cause. Everyone has witnessed her romantic screw-ups and humiliations and her close network of family and friends often compares her to her perfect identical twin with a doctor husband and beautiful baby. This is the kind of town where everyone knows everything about everything you and your family ever did and everyone, especially her mother, can't let Maggie forget that she is still single at 32 and running out of townsmen and men from the not so nearby environs to date. When Maggie meets a seemingly perfect newcomer, she tells one too many people that she's found her soulmate leading to yet another humilation in front of the town when she finds out who he really is. She's so busy fixating on him that she fails to notice an unconventional but great guy that she has overlooked for years. Will Maggie ever find a soulmate? Is that the one man she can't have? Or is it taciturn and surly Malone, a friend of her brother who is so silent and unfriendly the town calls him Maloner the Loner? *********************************************
I loved this book. I thought Ms. Higgin's first book, Fools Rush In, was well-written and plotted but somehow did not do it for me. I think the ick-don't-go-there factor of the heroine hooking up with her ex-brother-in-law was the sticking point on an otherwise great book. I almost did not buy this book because I remembered being put-off by that plot point. What a mistake that would have been. I stayed up until 2 AM reading this book straight through. This book was almost perfect. It was funny, making me laugh out loud, moved me to tears (and actual choking sobs at one point), portrayed a charming (ala Marcia Evanick) but not too unrealistically cutesy (Sherryl Woods, I am looking at you!)tiny Maine lobstering town. The book has a wonderful, moving heroine with a first POV, which I normally hate with a passion but felt right here. She is strong but flawed, smart, sticks up for herself when it matters and has some funny screw-ups that seems like they could really happen to you or I. It's hard to find a good romantic comedy anymore. Authors usually try too hard with the wackiness, create characters too stupid to live or otherwise fall flat. This book's tone is spot-on. I love the dog, who is treated in a great way so that he supports but does not steal the book away; Maggie's family and friends, especially her twin are also well drawn.

My one complaint: the end feels rushed to the point I was anxiously checking the page count as I got near the end to make sure the book wasn't mising pages because so much was unresolved. I'm not sure by the end that a happily-ever-after had been fully earned and that the hero's, (Malone), behavior had been fully explained. Dare I hope this is because the author plans Book 2 and we will pick up with these characters again? Please say so. Malone is so uncommunicative and many of his actions so inexplicable that he essentially remains a maddening but intriguing enigma still by the last page. I would have like another couple chapters or a different climax to make us feel that this couple was going to be able to live together and communicate going forward. The author make the reader want everything to work out for them but I was left with a nagging feeling that no happily ever after was guaranteed for these two still. DO NOT let this stop you from buying the book, you will love it. Just consider this my plea to the author for book 2 for Maggie and Malone.

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Friday, March 11, 2016

## Fee Download Up Close and Personal, by Maureen Child

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When brash Irish billionaire Ronan Connolly meets Laura Page, the connection is electric. He's danger. She's a safe haven. And the passion between them burns--too hot and too fast. So Ronan ends the affair before it can get serious.But he can't stay away.Six weeks later he's back, wanting to pick up where they left off. But Laura's having none of it. She's hurt, angry--and hiding something. Ronan vows to find out everything that happened while he was gone. But this time, getting up close and personal may mean giving Laura his heart.

Sales Rank: #3392266 in Books
Published on: 2012-09-04
Original language: English
Number of items: 1
Dimensions: 6.62" h x .50" w x 4.21" l, .20 pounds
Binding: Mass Market Paperback
192 pages

About the Author
Maureen Child is the author of more than 100 romance novels and novellas. Her books routinely appear on bestseller lists and have won numerous awards, including the Colorado Award of Excellence and the Prism. A six time nominee for the prestigous RITA award from Romance Writers of America, One of her books was made into a CBS-TV movie called THE SOUL COLLECTER. Maureen loves to travel and lives in Southern California with her family.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
"Laura, I know you're in there!"

Ronan Connolly pounded on the brightly painted blue front door a few more times, then paused to listen. Not a sound from inside the house, though he knew too well that Laura was in there. Hell, he could practically feel her, standing just on the other side of the damned door.

Bloody hardheaded woman. How had he ever thought that quality attractive? Now that attractive hardheadedness had come back to bite him in the ass.

Seconds ticked past and there was no sound from within, which only irritated him further. He glanced at the sunshine-yellow Volkswagen parked alongside the house—her car—then glared again at the still-closed front door.

"You won't convince me you're not at home. Your bloody car is parked in the street, Laura."

Her voice came then, muffled but clear. "It's a driveway in America, Ronan. You're not in Ireland, remember?"

"More's the pity." He scrubbed one hand across his face and rolled his eyes in frustration. If they were in Ireland right now, he'd have half the village of Dun-ley on his side and he'd bloody well get her to open the damned door.

"I heard that," she said. "And feel free to hop onto one of your private planes and go back to Connolly-land anytime you feel like it!"

If only he could, Ronan thought. But he'd come to California to open an American branch of his business and until Cosain was running as it should, he was going nowhere at all.

At the moment though, he was tired, on edge and in no mood to be dealing with more females. Especially one with a head as hard as Laura's.

He had spent the past six weeks traveling across Europe acting as bodyguard to a sixteen-year-old pop star whose singing was only slightly less annoying than her attitude. Between the girl and her grasping mother, Ronan had been more than ready for the job to end so he could get back to his life. Now that he was back, he'd expected peace. Orderliness. Instead…

Grinding his teeth together, he took a long moment or two and counted to ten. Then did it a second time. "Whatever the hell you want to call it, Laura, your car is here and so're you."

"I might have been out," she shouted. "Did you ever think of that? I do have friends, you know."

The Connolly temper lifted a couple notches inside him and Ronan was forced to fight it back down.

"But you're not out, are you?" he asked, entirely reasonably, and he gave himself points for it. "You're here, driving me to distraction and making me shout at a bloody closed door like I'm the village idiot turned loose on his own for the first time."

"You don't have to shout, I can hear you," she said, her voice carrying nicely through the door.

Laura Page lived on a tidy street in Huntington Beach, California, in one of a dozen town houses built to look like a Cape Cod village. When he'd first seen her place, he'd thought it charming. Now he glared at the building as if it were to blame for his current situation.

A cool ocean breeze shot down the narrow street and rattled the limbs of the nearly naked elm tree in Laura's front yard. Roiling gray clouds overhead promised a storm soon, and he hoped to hell he wasn't still standing on this bleeding porch when it hit.

"Your neighbors can hear me, too," he pointed out with a brief nod at the man clipping his hedge with enough vigor to whittle it into a toothpick. "Why not open the door and we can talk this out. Together. In private."

"I've got nothing to say to you."

He laughed shortly. That would be a first indeed, he told himself. A more opinionated woman he had never met. In the beginning, he'd liked that about her. Too often, he was surrounded by smiling, vacuous women who agreed with everything he said and laughed at the lamest of jokes just to ingratiate themselves with him.

But not Laura.

No, from the first, she had been stubborn and argumentative and unimpressed with his wealth or celebrity. He had to admit, he had enjoyed verbally sparring with her. He admired a quick mind and a sharp tongue. He'd admired her even more once he'd gotten her into his bed.

He glanced down at the dozen red roses he held clutched in his right hand and called himself a damned fool for thinking this woman would be swayed by pretty flowers and a smooth speech. Hell, she hadn't even seen the flowers yet. And at this rate, she never would.

Huffing out an impatient breath, he lowered his voice a bit. "You know why I'm here. Let's get it done and have it over then."

There was a moment's pause, as if she were thinking about what he'd said. Then she spoke up again. "You can't have him."

"What?"

"You heard me," she called back and Ronan narrowed his gaze fiercely on the door as if he could see through the panel to the woman beyond.

"Aye, I heard you. Though I don't believe it. I've come for what's mine, and I'm not leaving until I have it."

"Yours? You've been gone two months, Ronan. What makes you think anything is still yours?"

Tossing the roses to the ground, Ronan set his hands on either side of the door and leaned in. "Laura, I've been on a bloody plane for ten hours, listening to a teenage girl list the reasons she is to be adored. I've had her mother bitching about everything from the type of bottled water on the jet to the fluffiness of her pillow. I'm a man on the edge, love. All I've thought of for these last weeks is getting back to my house on the cliffs and seeing my damned dog. I'm not leaving without him."

The door was yanked open suddenly and there she stood. Five feet nine inches of curvy blonde with a pair of blue eyes as clear and lovely as a summer sky. Even in her worn jeans and button-down white shirt, she took his damned breath away, and he resented that fact down to his bones.

She kept one hand on the door and the other braced against the doorjamb as if she'd be enough to keep him out if he decided he wanted in.

Ronan glanced down and saw his dog leaning into her with slavish adoration. He scowled at the animal he called Beast, and the dog paid him no attention whatsoever. "A few weeks gone and you've dismissed me?" he asked the dog in a withering tone. "What kind of loyalty is that from man's best friend?"

The dog whined and leaned even more heavily into Laura's side until she staggered a little under his weight.

"A 'best friend' wouldn't have abandoned him," Laura said.

"He wasn't put out into a jungle forced to hunt for his own food," Ronan countered. "My cousin Sean—"

"Left him with me when he went back to Ireland. You can see now that Beast is fine. He's happy here.

With me."

"That may be," Ronan told her after sparing his traitorous hound another hard glare. "But he's not yours, is he?"

"He's in my house. That makes him mine."

"He's only in your house because Sean asked you to look out for him until I got back."

And for that, Ronan owed his cousin a punch in the face. Called back to Ireland unexpectedly, Sean had asked Laura to watch Beast in order to save the animal a monthlong stay in a kennel. Which Ronan hadn't found out about until it was too late to change anything. Yes, it had been the right choice for the dog. But for Ronan?

He hadn't seen Laura since he ended their affair two months ago. Though he couldn't exactly claim to have shut her out of his mind. Hell, he had taken the bodyguard job for the teenage singer himself, rather than handing it to one of his employees, only so that he could get a little distance from the woman standing so temptingly close to him at the moment. Distance hadn't helped. He'd thought of her. Dreamed of her, and awakened nearly every morning with his body tight and ready for her.

Even now, the lush, slightly floral scent of her reached out to him as if to tease every sense memory he had of touching her, tasting her, being inside her.

"Ronan," she said in a patient tone that interrupted his musings, "we both know Beast is better off with me. You're not exactly a good dog parent—"

"I'm not his father, I'm his bloody owner," Ronan countered.

She ignored him. "Soon enough you'll be going back to Ireland and—"

"Taking Beast with me," he finished for her.

In truth, he hadn't really considered what he would do with Beast when his time in America was over. But right now, the decision seemed an easy one. Even fighting the quarantine laws to get the dog home to Ireland would seem like a vacation after dealing with Laura Page.

Jaw tight, he looked deeply into those calm blue eyes and wondered if she was as unaffected by him as she seemed. Had she forgotten him so quickly? Gotten over him so completely? A lowering thought for a man to consider.

Brushing aside what had once been between them, he said, "Beast is mine, and I always intended to take him home to Ireland with me when I go. Nothing's changed."

"Sure it has," she said, taking a step toward him, dislodging the dog so that he nearly toppled over. "You have a dog back home, right?"

"Aye. Deirdre."

"And it's been how long since you've seen her?"

"That's nothing to do with this."

"It's everything to do with it," she countered, folding her arms beneath her breasts. "A dog needs more than a visit every couple of months. A dog needs love. Companionship. Someone he can count on. Someone who will be there."

Frowning, Ronan looked hard at her. This was the reason he had stepped back from their relationship in the first place. The woman had hearth and home and forever practically stenciled on her forehead. She was a woman who wanted...

Most helpful customer reviews

4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
Missing the all consuming love
By Smitten by Books
Ronan Connelly is back in California and ready to rekindle the romance between him and Laura Page. The sparks that flew between them is rare and Ronan realizes that he has to fight to get her back. However, Laura is resisting his charms and he must work harder to re-spark what they once had.

Laura knows holding Ronan's dog as a hostage is the wrong thing to do. She convinces herself that she wants to give Beast a good home but Ronan sees right through the act. Every time she tries to put some distract between them, he is right there in her face and she can't help but to remember the passion they once shared.

I love Ms. Child's books. Her California Kings series is fabulous and she mentions the family in this book. I wanted to love this one as well but I just didn't warm up to Ronan or Laura and after a few days of mulling it over, I finally figured out why. The story starts when Ronan shows back up in town. Laura is watching his dog because his cousin turned him over to her while he went out of town for business. Laura tries to use Beast (what a weird name since the dog is so mild tempered) as a wedge between her and Ronan but we all know that the dog is not the issue.

Laura is holding some secrets and I can understand her reasons for doing so but it is still not enough for them to be apart for so long. Once Laura blurts out her "horrible" secret, Ronan steps up and try to apologize and be the man she needed in the past. It doesn't work and Laura holds on to Ronan's wild ways for entirely too long. This could have been wrapped up quickly.

My biggest problem with the book is that I never felt the all consuming love that either character felt for one another. I believe they have chemistry but since the story started after the relationship, I never knew what made them attracted to one another in the first place. I wanted a glimpse into the past, so I could get a better understanding of the characters.

Overall, I am happy that Laura and Ronan got their HEA but this is not Ms. Child's best story.

Heat Level: Sensual

Reviewed by Samantha

This review was originally posted on The Season site (theseasonforromance dot com)

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Not What I Expected and Unfortunately Not What I Was Hoping For!!
By The eBook Investigator
I won't go into specific detail but I did not care for this book. It is difficult for me to become immersed in a book when I don't like the hero or heroine which in this case it was the hero. I thought Ronan was a royal jerk and Laura just did not deserve someone who could treat her so heartlessly, so uncaring. I truly think she could have done better but I realize she had the baby to consider.

I am sorry that I cannot recommend this read. It did not leave me with the warm fuzzies. I was too disgusted with Ronan's behavior throughout most of the book.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL
By Astella Goodman
My favorite person in this story is Laura and her determination not settle for less than the whole package. I will recommend this to anyone that would love a good read. The story line is great and holds your attention.

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Wednesday, March 23, 2016

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Monday, March 21, 2016

## Download PDF Too Good to Be True (Hqn), by Kristan Higgins

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Thursday, March 17, 2016

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Friday, March 11, 2016

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