June 13, 2013

Rerelease of Matchmakers by Bernadette Marie

I'm ecstatic to announce the rerelease of Bernadette Marie's Matchmakers. Bernadette is an amazing contemporary romance author (a big part of why I'm so happy she's my publisher, too). But you'll see for yourself when you read the excerpt. :)
 
 
Way to go, Bernadette! Happy Release Day!






Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com  books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary
Release Date: June 13, 2013
Digital ISBN 13:978-1-939217-56-1  ISBN 10:1-939217-56-3
Print ISBN 13:978-1-939217-55-4  ISBN 10:1-939217-55-5

Matchmakers
Cellist Sophia Burkhalter thought ten years in Europe
performing with an exclusive ensemble would have made it clear that she wasn’t
a candidate for her grandmother’s matchmaking. After all, she’d walked away
from the man she loved, leaving him back home in Kansas City.
David Kendal had fallen in love with Sophia, a match
orchestrated by her grandmother and his aunt. However, the unexpected
appearance of the daughter he never knew he had—and Sophia’s sudden, subsequent
departure for Europe—thrust him into the role of single father.
Carissa Kendal has only ever wanted the best for her father.
It doesn’t take long for her to realize that the very woman who broke her
father’s heart might be the one to make them a real family.
Can Carissa and the women who originally played matchmaker
to the duo convince them that love is worth a second try? Or will careers and
past mistakes tear them apart forever before they have a chance to reconcile?





About Bernadette Marie:
Bernadette Marie has been an avid writer since the early age
of 13, when she’d fill notebook after notebook with stories that she’d share
with her friends.  Her journey into novel writing started the summer
before eighth grade when her father gave her an old typewriter.  At all times
of the day and night you would find her on the back porch penning her first
work, which she would continue to write for the next 22 years. 
In 2007 – after marriage, filling her chronic
entrepreneurial needs, and having five children – Bernadette began to write
seriously with the goal of being published.  That year she wrote 12
books.  In 2009 she was contracted for her first trilogy and the published
author was born.  In 2011 she (being the entrepreneur that she is) opened
her own publishing house, 5 Prince Publishing, and has released contemporary
titles and began the process of taking on other authors in other genres. 
In 2012 Bernadette Marie found herself on the bestsellers
lists of iTunes and Amazon to name a few.  Her office wall is lined with
colorful PostIt notes with the titles of books she will be releasing in the
very near future, with hope that they too will grace the bestsellers lists.
Bernadette spends most of her free time driving her kids to
their many events—usually hockey.  She is also an accomplished martial
artist with a second degree black belt in Tang Soo Do.  An avid reader,
she enjoys contemporary romances with humor and happily ever afters.



Author Contact Info:
@writesromance on Twitter



EXCERPT of Matchmakers:
Sophia filed off the airplane
along with the other groggy passengers. The red-eye flight to Kansas City had
knotted up her stomach. What in the hell was she doing back here?
Perfect persuasion and just the
right amount of guilt had gotten her on that plane. Perhaps the tightening of
her stomach wasn’t the flying—it could very well be that she’d returned to the
very place she’d run from ten years ago.
She’d run from a man and
shattered the hearts of people she loved. The guilt stung a little deeper. She
should have come home years earlier.
Sophia followed a small group of
women from the plane into the ladies’ room. Exhaustion weighed down her
shoulders. Within the hour, she’d be at her grandmother’s house, tucked into
her childhood bed, and asleep. In the meantime, she splashed cool water on her
face to keep herself alert.
She dried her face and hands and
adjusted the scarf at her neck to ensure it hid the secret she kept from the
world. She picked up the carry-on luggage at her feet and headed toward baggage
claim.
“Sophia.”
The husky voice was soft and
male and made her knees weak when she heard it. She knew that voice as well as
she knew her own. The knot in her stomach returned, but this time it was like a
fist in her gut.
She turned to see him standing
there in his pilot’s uniform with his suitcase at his side—David Kendal, the
very man she’d run from so many years ago.
He took his pilot’s hat off and
revealed the dark, wavy hair that she’d once run her fingers through. It was
now speckled with hints of sophisticated silver. His uniform was striking on
him—just as it had always been. Even in the early morning hour, she felt her
skin tingle when she looked at his broad shoulders and knew what it was like to
rest her head against his chest.
“David.” His name floated from
her lips in a sigh. Ten years had passed since she’d last laid eyes on him, and
now he was as large as life standing before her.
“I thought that was you on the
plane.” He was walking closer to her, and her trembling knees wouldn’t allow
her to run the other direction.
The scent of his cologne washed
over her. His dark eyes were smoky and wide as she watched him take in the
sight of her.
“You look wonderful.” He stepped
closer, and Sophia gripped her bag tighter and tried to swallow the ball of
fear that had lodged in her throat. He gripped his hat tighter. “I’ve been
following your career.”
“Really?” The muscles in her
shoulders tensed. “Why?”
“Why?” He chuckled and took one
more step closer, and her throat constricted. “Sophia, you’re…” He shrugged as
though brushing off a thought. “You’re very talented.”
Sophia shook her head, trying
desperately to remove all thoughts of him from before—of what she’d lost. She
sighed. “David, it was nice to see you. I really need to get my luggage.”
She turned from him, head up,
shoulders back, and strode toward the elevator, stepping in as the door closed.
She leaned her head against the back wall and closed her eyes.
How was it possible that after
ten years he could stir such feelings in her? Sophia took inventory of what she
was feeling. There was a surge of attraction between them. Then the anger she’d
felt for years accompanied the thought of him. She’d walked out on him. His
betrayal was much stronger than the attraction. It had given her purpose to
make something of herself. Her success as a concert cellist sprang as much from
her desire to succeed as it did from a need to escape her feelings for David.
Sophia opened her eyes when she
heard the elevator doors open. The small group of others who had been aboard
the plane with her stood watching the empty luggage carousel go around. Sophia
waited for her cello case to arrive in the oversized luggage. It killed her to
have to check the instrument, but there were no other choices. It was times
like this she wondered why she didn’t play the violin. She could carry that
onto the plane.
Relief flooded her as a man
brought her the case. She quickly opened it and examined the instrument to
assure herself it had arrived in one piece.
Her trip was to last two weeks.
She’d wanted to pack only one bag, but against her better judgment, she’d
packed two. When the two suitcases dropped to the carousel, she pulled them off
and stacked them. One hung from the other, and she slung her carry-on over her
shoulder. With a grunt, she hoisted her cello to her side. She started toward
the curb to collect a cab.
Footsteps clattered on the tile
floor behind her.
“Sophia.”
She wouldn’t let herself turn to
see him hurrying to her.
“Let me help you.”
“I travel like this all the
time. I do not need your assistance.” Her voice was cold.
“I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I
didn’t offer to help a lady in need.”
“A gentleman?” He’d already
taken her suitcases from her and wheeled them out to the sidewalk. “Mr. Kendal,
I assure you I do not need you.”
“No, you made that perfectly
clear when you disappeared and left your engagement ring in the sink.” He kept
walking, forcing her to follow.
“Where are you going?” She tried
to keep up with him, but his long stride kept him a hefty distance ahead of
her.
He pointed off into the parking
garage. “My car is parked just over here.”
“Your car?” She trotted to catch
up with him. “I’m taking a cab.”
“I don’t want you in a cab in
the middle of the night,” he said, unwavering from his path.
She grunted and quickened her
step again.
“I don’t care what you think—”
“I know.” He darted a stare in
her direction.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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June 07, 2013

Giveaway to Celebrate Release Day for Rocky Road

Come join me at MaryLu Tyndall's blog, Cross and Cutlass. We're talking about the amazing way a person with special needs can make our lives brighter. So many people have great stories to tell about the special people in their lives. Oh, and did I mention...

We have ice cream.

Yes, really!

We're giving away an autographed copy of Rocky Road and a Baskin Robbins gift card (also good at Dunkin Donuts, if you're more of a donut person).

See you there. :)

June 06, 2013

ROCKY ROAD Launch Day!

It's Launch Day for Rocky Road, so here's the whole shebang about the book (omigosh, I have a press release, it must really be official now). And there's an excerpt, because those are fun. :)

Yesterday and today I've been quite entertained watching the cover pop up on the online stores. Woo-hoo!

Stay tuned over the next few weeks for giveaways on my blog tour. I'll keep you updated. There will be ice cream. Seriously.

I want to give a huge, extra-special thanks to a special group of fans, my "ground crew." I appreciate you ladies so much!

Without further ado:

Available from 5 Prince Publishing www.5princebooks.com books@5princebooks.com
Genre: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary
Release Date:June 6, 2013
Digital ISBN 13:978-1-939217-62-2 ISBN 10:1-939217-62-8
Print ISBN 13:978-1-939217-61-5 ISBN 10:1-939217-61-X
Purchase link : www.5princebooks.com/buy.html

Rocky Road:
Physical therapist Nancy Anne Robertson has her sights set on her dream promotion. Problem #1: she’s engaged to one of her patients, and if her secret gets out, she’ll lose her job altogether. Problem #2: her ex-fiancé is back in town, shooting for the same promotion. Complicating matters are two mothers (and one fiancé) with alarming secrets, an autistic brother with a penchant for wandering off at the most inconvenient times, and four rings—the fake diamond kind, the stolen kind, the sticky wax kind that belongs under a toilet . . . and maybe, just maybe, the kind meant to make a girl say I do.


About Susan Lohrer:
Susan Lohrer grew up in more towns in western Canada than she has fingers to
count them on. She currently lives in southern BC with her husband of more than
two decades, their two teenagers who are still at home, three dogs, and far more
aquariums than a reasonable house-hold should contain. She believes life is
always better with a healthy dose of humor.


How to contact Susan Lohrer:
Website: http://www.susanlohrer.com
Twitter: @susanlohrer
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author.Susan.Lohrer
E-mail: susan@susanlohrer.com

Excerpt of ROCKY ROAD


Wouldn’t someone who really wanted to get married be a little more careful than this? Not that Ancy doubted Mark’s intentions. He was The One. And she wouldn’t nag him about it.

Honestly though, severing most of the nerves in his hand should’ve been enough for one week—but no! He had to go and whop himself on the head too. It wasn’t like Mark to be this accident-prone, and he’d been getting worse over the last few months. Working too hard so he’d be a good provider, no doubt. That’s just the kind of guy he was. She smiled, visualizing him in a black tux.

Focusing on her impending nuptials usually distracted her from thinking about whether she’d make department head. And lately, her impending groom had been more than enough distraction.

She checked the temperature of the paraffin tub. “This’ll feel a little hot, but it’ll help with flexibility.” He grimaced as she dipped his right hand into the warm wax. Then he gave her bum a squeeze with the left one. “Quit it before someone sees us.”

Since he wasn’t dragging his feet—that much seemed obvious—why couldn’t he stay in one piece long enough to put some professional distance between them?

“Mark, you’ve dropped a wall on your head, nailed your foot to the floor, and dislocated your shoulder. Are you trying to get out of our wedding?”

Whoops. She bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. Outpatient Physical Therapy was crowded in the afternoon. The last thing she needed was for someone to overhear her in a lover’s spat… with her patient. That would not only prevent her promotion to department head, it would end her career. Instantly. Working quickly, she covered the warm wax with a plastic bag, then slipped a padded mitten over the whole thing to lock in the heat.

If only there were a simple way to get around the patient-therapist dating taboo. But because her specialty was post-traumatic hand rehabilitation, she was the therapist most qualified to care for Mark’s injuries—so she and Mark were forced into secrecy until he regained the use of his hand. “Well, couldn’t you try to be just a little more careful?” She kept her voice to a low hiss. “At this rate, I’ll be ninety by the time we even set the date.”

“Aw Ancy, a few more weeks and this thing will be as good as new.” He grinned and held up his thickly swaddled hand.

Yeah, right. She’d treated her share of injuries. This one was far from pretty, even though she hadn’t seen it until after the surgery. His poor body. “Please just be more careful. I want to wear my ring on my finger, not on my necklace where no one can see it.” She displayed her perfectly healthy left hand, its third finger perfectly naked. Did Mark have any idea how hard it was on her to keep this a secret? And not just from the department—from Jen, her best friend in the whole world.

Though she was the one best qualified to treat Mark, Jen—perky, sexy Jen—could have treated his injuries. But then Jen and Mark—not that she didn’t trust him—but why create temptation by throwing her beefcake fiancé into the capable arms of her best friend? Besides, every difficult PT case brought her another step closer to becoming department head. She couldn’t risk losing that kind of security, not when she almost had it in her grasp.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“You worry too much.” He looked so hot when he gave her that wink that said she could count on him no matter what.

“Mark, I’m serious.” She added a stern, professional note to her voice as Doris Ridgewood, the department head—who was due for retirement any second—passed by. “You have to take some time off work to rest. If you don’t, you’ll never regain full use of your hand.”

Doris nodded approvingly and continued on her way.

Mark leaned close. “It’s kind of exciting, don’t you think, Ance?”

“What is?” She checked her watch. Almost time to unwrap the hand and work on scar mobility.

“Knowing you’ll be mine to have and to hold.” He waggled his dark brows meaningfully. “This hand is going to make a full recovery, and you know what I’m gonna do with it.”

She could feel the blood rushing from her extremities, and probably from a few vital organs, straight to her face.

Jen, between patients, was walking past. Had she overheard Mark’s titanically not-suitable-for-work innuendo? She slowed. Cocked her head. Pivoted on her heels. Ancy’s promotion slithered down to the pit of her belly as Jen marched up to her and pulled her aside, a thunderstorm brewing in her eyes. “Is this guy giving you a hard time?”

Fresh guilt welled up inside Ancy, and she was sure her cheeks were as red as if Jen had targeted her with a laser pointer. Jen didn’t have a clue, and it made Ancy feel like a big, fat liar.

“I um, got something in my eye.” Jen shot her a strange look. But it was the only thing Ancy could think of on such short notice. She turned away and pretended to wipe at her face. When she looked again, Jen was with another patient. Ancy had never kept a secret from her best friend before, and she was starting to hate the way it made her feel.

Maybe she should tell Jen and just get this whole thing off her shoulders. But then Jen would be obligated to tell Doris, and Ancy wouldn’t blame her if she did. And she’d lose her job. Her watch’s second hand swept up to the 12.

Back to Mark. The mitten, the bag, and the wax came off, and she began to manipulate his hand through range-of-motion exercises, bending and stretching all his fingers, careful not to apply too much pressure to the still-healing surgery scars. His hands were muscular. Strong hands, dependable hands. The hands of a man who would stand by her through whatever life threw at them. And he wouldn’t leave her the way Steve had. The way her father had left her family.

“Nice technique, Ancy.” Doris’s voice behind her shoulder made her flinch. The woman didn’t approach like a normal person, she appeared. Ancy had never once heard her coming. “Young man,” Doris said, skimming over the floor and coming to stand beside Ancy, “our Miss Robertson is highly qualified in her specialty. She’s one of the best.”

Wow. It wasn’t every day Doris handed out a compliment like that. Could it reflect an intention to recommend Ancy for the promotion?

“Of course, Fidelity General Hospital is soon to be blessed with a second, equally qualified therapist. He’s one of our alumni. Your case might prove especially interesting to him.” She glided away, and Ancy pictured Doris as a young, heavy-browed girl balancing a book on her head.

Her mind was racing. “Mark, do you realize what this means? It’s the answer to our problems.” Because an equally qualified therapist who didn’t have her seniority could take over Mark’s case without threatening her promotion. Then the bit about the alumnus sank in.

“Ouch, let go!” Mark’s face contorted.

Ancy loosened her grip immediately and banished the unsettling thought from her mind. “I’m sorry.” She returned to her work on his hand and whispered, “You can switch to the new therapist, and we can come out in the open.”

She pulled the curtain halfway around the bench for a little more privacy before starting to work on Mark’s other injuries. These weren’t as serious as the one to his hand, and while she concentrated on deltoidius, trapezius, and rhomboideus major and minor, she couldn’t help but notice Mark’s build on a more superficial level, which was part of the reason she’d pulled the curtain. Half the staff would be drooling over him if they saw his bare chest.

As it was, all she could manage to say to him when she finished the examination was, “Looks good.”

The curtain behind her swished open, and the scent of Obsession for Men filled her mind with images from the past.

Steven Stone. Steve and her, training together, working together. Steve, the only guy who’d ever made an effort to understand her autistic brother and had never made fun of him. Steve and her, in his fossil fuel–burning Mustang….

Steve… the second and last man who’d walked out of her life. A wall slammed down in her heart.

It couldn’t be him. She made herself turn around. Her arm brushed the paraffin tub, and liquid wax sloshed over the sides. A distant splash marked its landing on the floor.

Her heart did that funny flipping thing that made her breath catch in her throat.

It was him.
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Legal Stuff

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