The Angels Present: Like Mom

Please welcome Cheryl Robinson author of Like Mom.

Cheryl will be awarding a $50 Amazon Gift Card to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour, and a $25 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn host.

Like Mom

by Cheryl Robinson

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Determined to lose weight, Nevada Pearson participates in a twelve-week clinical trial for a new diet pill. Nevada thinks if she’s slim, her life will be so much better. She won’t have to wear dark clothes to hide her big belly and can kiss the plus sizes good-bye. Her husband will stop ogling every skinny woman in sight, and she’ll stop accusing him of cheating. She won’t have to worry that he’ll leave her the way her dad left her mom. She can stop ranting on her YouTube channel about being fat. She’ll get promoted at work. Her fifteen-year-old daughter will want to lose weight, too, instead of staying holed up in her bedroom eating junk food and surfing the Internet for a cure to her social anxiety. But Nevada isn’t prepared for what happens next and how quickly her life changes—and it has nothing to do with her amazing weight loss.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nevada

This upcoming year is the year,” Claude said. “If I don’t get promoted, I’m leaving.”

“And going where?” I asked. I had a right to know, unless he planned on going alone, and then I truly had a right to know.

“I don’t care where: wherever I can get a job. What, you want to live in Indiana forever?”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind. I mean, it’s what I know.”

He rolled his eyes dismissively at me. “Let’s dissect what you just said—”

I crossed my eyes after I turned my head to the side. No, let’s not. Sometimes, I just wanted to tell him to shut up with all of his change-your-life stuff. I had Oprah for that, and she was much better at motivating me than Claude was. Listening to her made me think I really could change my life. Listening to him made me think I’d made a mistake by marrying him in the first place, and that I’d messed up my life forever. But I’d felt the same way on our wedding day, so nothing had changed.

“I don’t want to dissect it.”

 “But what you just said is how a lot of people feel. A lot of people stay with something just because it’s familiar. It’s what they know. May not even be something they want. Next year should be the year of the unknown. That could be the title for my first book; I need to write it down.” He searched the table for something to write on because once he sat down he wasn’t getting up until after he finished eating. “Do you have a pen and some paper?”

I got up and grabbed the first sheet of paper I saw and handed it to him along with a pen and then sat back down. Before he wrote on the paper, he turned it over. “Do you need this?”

“It’s just a blank sheet of paper, isn’t it?”

“It’s a shipping notice from Curl—.”

I snatched the paper out of his hand—close call; it was the shipping notice from Curl Junkie for the box of hair products UPS had delivered that day. Claude would have a fit if he saw that I’d spent over a hundred dollars on stuff for my hair. But I had to spend at least a hundred dollars to get free shipping, which made sense while I was filling my online shopping cart with more stuff, but the more I thought about it, I only wanted the Daily Fix and the Smoothing Lotion, which would’ve been forty-nine dollars, and the flat rate shipping was only seven dollars and twenty-five cents, so basically, I paid fifty-one dollars more to save seven dollars and twenty-five cents. But it made perfect sense to me at the time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cheryl Robinson is a native Detroiter currently residing in Central Florida. She started her literary career as an independent author, publishing two books before eventually landed a publishing deal with Penguin/NAL Trade. She published six novels with NAL Trade and two more novels as an independent author. She is currently working on her next novel. Visit her Website at cherylrobinson.com, where you can read her blog and enter her monthly blog contest.

Amazon purchase link:

http://www.amazon.com/Like-Mom-ebook/dp/B00FW6PYD0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1381848472&sr=1-1&keywords=Like+Mom

My Website link

http://cherylrobinson.com/books/like-mom/

The Angels Present: St. Batzy & the Time Machine

Just $ 0.99

St. Batzy and the Time Machine

Genene Valleau

genene@genenevalleau.com

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 1

Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com

Buy at Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Batzy-Time-Machine-Genene-Valleau-ebook/dp/B007NCNMOY/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1386001623&sr=1-1-fkmr0&keywords=St.+Batzy+%26+the+Time+Machine+by+Genie+Gabriel

A modern day castle in western Oregon. An eccentric inventor is determined to reclaim his wayward time machine and save his beloved wife from her latest misadventure. If only they can travel safely past the black hole…

EXCERPT

Horace Ainsworth patted the side of the giant red fire hydrant towering two stories above him then addressed the terrier mix dog staring at him curiously. "It's finished. Now don't you dig in my Maddie's roses any more or potty on the pansies."

Batzy stared at Horace's retreating back for a moment before he hiked his leg on the nearest flowering plant.

Then he turned his attention to the odd-looking structure the Big Human had erected. Not like any fire hydrant he'd ever sniffed. A canine would have to be the size of King Kong to give this thing a proper marking.

Though it did smell like the water that sprayed out of the hose when the human across the street yelled at him. Batzy grinned and lifted his leg, imagining he was returning the spray of the yelling human.

As he circled this mysterious structure, the smell of fresh paint and overturned earth drifted into his nostrils. It was bigger than the merry-go-round at the park where his human, Chloe, sometimes took him.

Wonder what's inside?

Batzy scratched at the side of the structure then trotted another few steps and scratched again. About halfway around he found an opening. Not tall enough for the Big Human, but just about perfect for his little girl, Chloe. Batzy darted inside and lifted his face to sample the aromas.

No scents of danger but much to explore. Like this box of dirt. Odd. Big humans usually didn't appreciate the joys of digging. Hadn't he just been told not to dig in the rose bushes? A sniff and a poke with his paw uncovered a bone. Fresh out of the package. Batzy looked around. What game was the Big Human playing?

"Batzy!" his little girl was calling him.

Batzy stepped out of the digging pit. Hmm. I smell peanut butter.

He put a front paw on a cabinet for balance and nosed a button. A bone-shaped treat fell into a bowl below. Also fresh out of a package. The Big Human was definitely up to something. Batzy gobbled it down quickly before looking around again.

"Batzy!"

Drat! He had to go. On his way out, Batzy stepped back into the digging box and snatched up the bone. Outside once again, he pushed the bone through the gap under the fence, and squeezed through after it.

He popped up on the other side with only a few more streaks of mud on the white of his belly and wagged his tail at Chloe. He'd go back to explore the Big Human's structure later.

~ * ~

Satisfied he had neutralized the threat to Maddie's rose bushes, Horace returned to the workshop in the basement of their castle-shaped home. In King Arthur's time, the sorcerer Merlin might have worked his magic in similar surroundings. Had Merlin simply been a scientist with an observing eye and a searching mind?

That's how Horace saw himself: open to possibilities and what others might consider impossibilities. He loved to explore "what if" and took delight in disproving "facts." Edison did it with the light bulb. The Wright brothers did it with airplanes. Horace continued that tradition with a flying car and a robot that served dinner, as well as a play structure made out of a water tower and painted like a giant fire hydrant for the dog next door. After all, who said inventions had to be serious?

Horace scanned the stone walls lined with tables and shelves stacked with high-tech inventions and mechanical gadgets in various stages of development. What should he work on next?

He nearly set aside the recipe card propped on the computer keyboard, except he hadn't seen the word "urgent" on a recipe before. Horace realized it was a phone message from his cousin, Clement. "Will arrive tomorrow with submarine."

Horace scratched his chin. What would his space engineer relative be doing with a submarine?

Suddenly, the alarm for the garages began wailing. A glance at the security monitor showed a truck pulling a trailer painted in vivid red and orange careening around the castle had clipped the gutter downspout and set off the alarm.

A net dropped over the trailer, tangling in a wheel and jerking it sideways. Unfortunately, the truck continued its forward momentum until it also lurched to a stop, now sitting almost side by side with the trailer.

If Horace didn't know his wife was safely painting in her studio, he would have sworn she was driving the truck.

He hurried out of his workshop to be sure both truck and driver were okay.

A tall, lanky man wearing a white shirt and black slacks jumped down from the driver's seat as the truck shuddered to a stop, grinning at Horace. "Hi, Cuz."

A frown creased Horace's forehead as he stared at the argyle suspenders that kept Clement Ainsworth's slacks pulled up into a permanent wedgie. The same suspenders Clement bragged had garnered him a date with the prettiest sorority girl at college some thirty-odd years ago. "But your message said you'd be here tomorrow."

Clement waved away Horace's confusion. "I called yesterday. You need a new secretary."

"My nephew took the message--"

"Like I said, you need a new secretary."

Horace made a mental note to come up with a more efficient way to deliver messages. "Why are you here? This doesn't look like a submarine."

Clement frowned. "Paperwork hold-up. But we can start work without it."

"Work on what?"

After a suspicious look around, Clement dropped his voice to a whisper. "A probe to explore black holes."

Horace also looked around, seeing nothing of danger except his cousin's lack of driving skills. "You mean black holes in space caused by stars burning out?"

"Well, that's the generally accepted theory."

"And do you have a probe in the trailer?"

"Nah. This is a mobile fabrication laboratory." Clement walked to the back of the trailer, stepping over the tangled netting that had captured one of the wheels. "This will make us a working prototype of the probe."

Horace stepped inside the trailer behind his cousin. "What is all this?"

"Laser cutter, CNC machine tools, robotic water jet, a rapid prototyping device--just to name a few. All run by cutting edge computer software."

Horace's hands tingled with the desire to pry open the metal casings on the equipment and see how the machines really worked. "Don't you make anything by hand?"

"You're still living in the dark ages, Horace." Clement laughed again. "No one makes things manually anymore."

Horace squared his shoulders, determined not to let his older, city slicker cousin make him feel inferior the way he had in college. "I do."

Clement's expression turned immediately apologetic, something Horace had rarely seen. "That's why I need you."

With a deep breath and a frown, Clement looked Horace squarely in the eye. "You're the detail man. You make visions a reality. Others know the theories, but you know how to make them work."

"Um...right." Horace was still a bit off balance and definitely wary of his cousin's change in attitude. For the first time Horace could recall, Clement seemed to appreciate his skills rather than denigrating them. Surely Horace could give the man a chance to explain--and examine these intriguing machines--before Maddie threw Clement off their property. "Tell me what you have in mind."

"Saving the world."

The Angels Are Pleased To Announce A New Release: Until I Met You

Title: Until I Met You

Author: Rosemary Indra

Email: rosemaryi5324@hotmail.com

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 4

Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Until-I-Met-You-Sweetbrier-ebook/dp/B00GZYLLFS/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1385864555&sr=1-1&keywords=Until+I+met+you+by+Rosemary+Indra

 

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/until-i-met-you-rosemary-indra/1117531510?ean=2940149088751

J.T. Reynolds returns from the war a broken man with one goal on his mind, protect his deceased brother’s baby. When he meets the baby’s guardian, Jessica Reid, he conceals his identity in order to judge if she’s a competent caregiver. He finds peace and contentment in her arms and longs to build a loving family with her.

Jessica has been lied to by most of the men in her life and finds it difficult to form a lasting relationship. With sole guardianship of her nephew, she struggles to find a trustworthy babysitter until a handsome man moves into the neighbourhood. Learning to trust again, Jessica finds strength and love in Tyler’s strong arms. Jessica is devastated when she learns Tyler has deceived her. Is her love resilient enough to forgive him?

J. T. Reynolds stood motionless on Jessica Reid's porch. His military training had kicked in; know your adversary before you strategize. Intent on getting to know her, he first introduced himself to her neighbors. He'd gleaned the three women on the cul-de-sac were close. Their bond extended to more than three single women living on the same street. He'd learned Jessica hadn't lived here long but she'd known both of the women for some time. Jessica and Blake had been friends since elementary school. J. T. was amazed at how much the women revealed when he talked to them.

The exterior of her home was well maintained, but J. T. knew all too well appearances were deceiving. His family always gave the pretense of a loving family until they were behind closed doors.

A porch with white columns covered the majority of the front of her house. He glanced in the large window, studying his quarry. From where he stood, he could see her sitting in a rocking chair, holding the little tike. Mesmerized, he watched the woman hold the infant in her arms and slowly rock back and forth.

Jessica had a braid of long brown hair across the opposite breast from the baby. From where he stood, her features looked plain. No—solemn. Her face drawn and shoulders slumped. Impulsively, J. T. wanted to comfort her with an embrace. For a woman he didn't know, yet, she brought out a protective instinct in him. He tried to remember what his brother had said about the woman but drew a blank. This was personal, yet after so many years in the service, he felt as if this was another mission and pushed his emotions aside.

For some reason he wondered what color her eyes were. J.T. shook his head. He wasn't here because of the woman. The baby was his reason for this task. The child didn't know it, but he was the closest person J.T. had to a family. He would do anything for his foster brother's son.

Growing up, J. T. had spent years being shuffled from one foster home to another. He never felt a connection to any of the families until he moved in with Grant Markham's family. The two of them had become best friends and referred to each other as brothers.

When Wyatt was born, Grant emailed J. T. in Afghanistan with the news. He asked him if he'd be the baby's godfather and to look out for the boy if anything should happened. At the time, J. T. joked with him about how dangerous Grant's job as a computer programmer was and he needed to watch out for paper cuts. J. T. would give anything to hear Grant's laughter again.

J. T. focused on Jessica gently swaying in the rocking chair. Listening carefully, he swore he could hear her soothing voice sing a lullaby. The scene in the house was very hypnotic and he felt a sense of peace. For the first time in years, he wanted to belong to a family. To come home to a wife and children would be a peaceful change to the world he'd witnessed lately. Putting his arms around a woman at the end of the day, sharing the good and the bad would be heaven. J. T. quickly reached out and pressed the doorbell without another thought. He wasn't here for a touchy-feely moment. The child was the only reason he stood on her porch.

The doorbell chimed, piercing the still morning. He could still see her image through the window as she walked toward the door. Her movements were lithe and gracefully. Enticing. With a moment of doubt, J. T. stepped back and started to retrace his steps down the porch when he heard the door open.

The first thing he noticed when she opened the door were her rich brown eyes. Expressive bedroom eyes. He'd seen recognition in her gaze. In a moment of silence, a sensation of desire heated his blood. It had been too long since he had sex if one look from her had him thinking in that direction.

Jessica wore jeans and a white eyelet blouse which hung low, where she held the baby, revealing the swell of her breast. Her creamy white skin had him yearning to caress her.

"You must be Tyler."

He was glad to see the corners of her mouth curve into a smile and chase the sadness away.

"Blake called and said you saw her yesterday."

He'd done his homework. Talking to her friends and neighbors helped paved the way to meet her. J. T. removed his cap and pressed the cloth between his hands. Always able to talk himself out of any situation, at the moment, he struggle for a coherent thought. "Yes, ma'am."

"Won't you come in?"

Her hospitality was genuine and sincere. J. T. speculated Jessica wouldn't be so friendly if she knew who he was and his plan to spy on her to determine if she was fit to watch over Wyatt.

Her eyes widened with surprise. She held Wyatt against her shoulder the way she had the other day in front of the window. Then she reached out her free hand to him.

"I recognized you from the other day. Nice to meet you. I'm Jessica Reid."

Her soft fingers wrapped around his hand. The warmth and tenderness created a connection to the family closeness he'd seen moments ago causing him to yearn for a better life.

"The pleasure is mine."

Startled by the serenity he felt with her, J. T. wanted more and leaned toward her. He breathed in her fresh, clean scent, a fragrance he didn't recognize. Her deep brown gaze studied him closely and he wondered who was doing the investigation, her or him.