Rogue's Angels Present: The Eye of RA by Ben Gartner

Please welcome Ben Gartner author of The Eye of RA

Ben Gartner will be awarding a $30 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

The Eye of Ra

byBen Gartner

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GENRE:   Middle Grade

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INTERVIEW:

What or who inspired you to start writing?

Authors like Roald Dahl and C.S. Lewis and E.B. White and Shell Silverstein and a thousand others. Reading was my first inspiration. My second was my own overactive brain. Wherever I went, there was always a thin veil between this world and the one being played out in my imagination. Often, the latter was more interesting.J

How did you come up with your idea for your novel?

THE EYE OF RA started as a collaboration project for fun with my two sons – a way to be together and dream up a story as a team. It grew from there, from a fun little side project into a full blown novel that has been receiving really positive reception. It’s been very exciting for all of us.

What expertise did you bring to your writing?

I am a perpetual learner and enjoy soaking up trivia about our world, especially when the “facts” we take for granted leave room for mystery. The areas of archaeology, science, history, technology, philosophy – all of these bodies of knowledge are ripe for second-guessing and wondering. I hope to instill that sense of wonder and critical thinking in young minds. I’m an expert wonderer.

As far as your writing goes, what are your future plans?

I was in the middle of working on my novels for adults (thrillers) when I started this little side project. For the sake of getting one done, I’d like to continue work on those. However, the reception for THE EYE OF RA has been so flattering thus far that I can’t help but let the gears whir about a #2… My boys and I have already been discussing, so we’ll see!

If you could be one of the characters from this book, who would it be and why?

Ah, to be young again, right?! On that note, I’d have to choose John. Sarah is a strong contender and I love her attitude, but John is a little younger and still in that sweet spot before the preteen hormones kick in. John has a lot to offer and I think his confidence in himself will continue to grow. That’s a scary, but exciting, time to be alive.

What is the best and worst advice you ever received? (regarding writing or publishing)

The best proponent and worst critic of my writing work has been myself. I held myself to too high of a standard in my writing earlier on in my life and it killed my creativity completely. But now, allowing myself to just have FUN with it (and recognizing I can’t forsake my day job), I feel liberated to experience the action in my mind’s eye like I’m ten again. And if that doesn’t describe “joy,” then I don’t know what does.

Do you outline your books or just start writing?

Before about three years ago, I was always a proud pantser. As many have echoed before me, I felt that plotting it out took the fire out of the idea. If I knew what was going to happen, I got bored with the project. But now, I’ve learned a happy compromise. I recognize that my work can be more interwoven and intricate if I do some planning beforehand, but at the same time I’m not a slave to the outline. If, while writing, the character or plot or setting somehow tug my words in a different direction, I let them go where they will and then revisit the outline and see if it works or if I need to cut. Cutting entire scenes, for example, can be the byproduct of this wandering, but often those wanderings end up working their way subtly into the depth of the characters or the overall storyline.

How do you maintain your creativity?

By reminding myself that I’m doing this for FUN! I have to often tell myself this if my own brain starts getting in the way. I tell myself that I have no illusions of grandeur -- well, maybe sometimes, but as long as I recognize them as such then those flights of fancy are okay. It’s when the perfectionism creeps in, creativity is squashed. Voltaire said, “The perfect is the enemy of the good.” And good is often more fun than perfect!

Who is your favorite character in the book. Can you tell us why?

I think my favorite character in the book is one that I can’t tell you without spoiling one of the twists at the end. Suffice to say that I can imagine an entire separate series detailing his life and choices.

Anything else you might want to add?

As THE EYE OF RA has rolled along, it has brought me closer to my boys. And in the end, that’s the reason I even started it. Little did I suspect early on that it might just prove to be such an important transformative experience in my life. 

  

BLURB:

Exploring a mysterious cave in the mountains behind their house, John and his sister Sarah are shocked to discover they’ve time traveled to ancient Egypt!

Now they must work together to find a way back home from an ancient civilization of golden desert sand and a towering new pyramid, without parents to save them. The adventures abound—cobras, scorpions, a tomb robber, and more! The two kids have to trust each other, make friends who can help, and survive the challenges thrown at them . . . or be stuck in ancient Egypt forever.

For readers graduating from the Magic Treehouse series and ready for intense action, dive into this middle grade novel rich with meticulous historical detail.

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EXCERPTS:

Up ahead, almost like an optical illusion in the rocks, a black oval dissolved into the mountain. It seemed to shimmer in the fading sunlight.

“What . . . is it?” John asked, taking a step back.

Sarah moved forward. “It—” She stepped closer, hunching to get a better look at the dark shape about the dimensions of the full-length mirror they had on the back of their bathroom door. “It looks like a cave. Cool!”

“Careful, Sarah. We shouldn’t go in there.”

“That’s a great idea,” Sarah said, standing upright and walking toward the mysterious black shape.

“No, wait, I said we shouldn’t go in there.” John turned to walk away. But he couldn’t leave his sister. “We should get Mom and Dad.”

“I’ll just peek in,” Sarah said, standing only an arm’s length from the entrance. “It definitely looks like a cave, or maybe an old mining tunnel or something. I don’t remember this from before.”

“Come on, Sarah.” John’s tone sounded more urgent now.

Sarah stepped closer, slowly, her lips parted and her eyes fixed on the cave.

Without another word, Sarah stepped across the threshold, and her body disappeared into the black.

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Ben Gartner is the author of adventure books for middle graders and thrillers for adults. His writing for both audiences shares an ability to grab readers by their neurons for a thrilling ride, maybe even teaching them something in the meantime. Ben can be found living and writing near the mountains with his wife and two boys.

WEBSITE

https://bengartner.com/

SOCIAL

Twitter:http://twitter.com/bgartnerwriting

Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/BenGartnerAuthor/

Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/86465769-ben-gartner

BookBub:https://www.bookbub.com/profile/2710189959

EBOOKS

All available for pre-order except Amazon, which will be available on publication date.

Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1491182528

Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-eye-of-ra-ben-gartner/1135492294

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-eye-of-ra-2

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/search?q=The%20Eye%20of%20Ra%20by%20Ben%20Gartner&c=books&hl=en_US

Amazon:https://www.amazon.com/dp/B082WS8H4C/

PRINT BOOKS

Will be available February 1, 2020 via Amazon and IngramSpark distributors.

The book is only $0.99.

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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE:

Ben Gartner will be awarding a $30 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f3269/

#FaerieChroniclesBoxedSet #Fantasy

Title: Faerie Chronicles Boxed Set

C. L. Kraemer

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 2

Buy at: Amazon

BLURBS: Faerie Chronicles

Meadows of Gold

Eugene, Oregon in the 20th century, amid a property feud between the local faeries and night elves. The conniving faeries from Olde Ireland try to stir up more mischief. However, a warrior gnome convinces the magic folk to control their own destiny.

The Lending Library

Faeries try to fit into the human world when the forest where they make their home is destroyed by a mysterious enemy.

Defying the Odds

The night elves on the hill aren't happy without their magic. They concoct a plan to punish those who were involved in the act that rendered them almost human. Meanwhile, Uther, the rogue night elf, has returned to woo the Librarian to be his eternal mate.

EXCERPTS: FAERIE CHRONICLES

A gentle breeze sighed, undulating the meadow grass lazily and whispering past the forlorn figure slumped on the tree trunk, hands clasped tightly in his lap. Thomas, a forest leprechaun, released a long melancholy breath between his cracked, dry lips. A single plump tear meandered down his stubbled cheek.

The sun sent bright shafts of light through the pine boughs and around the wooden pedestal upon which the morose figure resided. Ignoring the dancing beams, the leprechaun pulled a shuddered breath into his lungs and stared at a spot in front of the stump where a crumpled daisy chain necklace lay withering in the warmth of the afternoon. Another plump tear snaked down his unshaven face.

In the distance, a lone figure scuffed up the lane, which crossed in front of the tree stump. Thomas paid no heed to the approaching form, pulling a thin silver flask from inside his rumpled vest. He blindly opened the lid, placed the opened top to his lips and pulled a deep draught from the container. Refitting the cap to the top, he slipped the silver spirit holder back into his vest. His next shuddered breath was interrupted with a hiccup.

The figure on the road drew closer. Thomas raised his head and squinted his eyes. Was she coming back? He hiccupped and straightened up. Maybe she had been teasing him when she ran away and now she realized how much he cared for her. His eyes brightened and a smile began to touch his lips.

The figure came around the bend and toward him. The last he'd seen her, she was wearing a diaphanous, thin dress. Had she changed? The form nearing him was clad in leather breeches, a braided leather tunic, and knee-high, soft leather boots. A sword blade strapped to the figure's back flashed in the sunlight. Was Cary so angry she meant to cut him in little pieces? His heart began to pound in his chest and inside his mouth his tongue stuck to the roof.

The figure stopped two lengths from him and raised a hand to shade its eyes from the brightness of the day.

Thomas realized he was shaking. This was it…his life was over. He hung his head.

"Thomas?"

The voice was familiar but it didn't sound like Cary. If it wasn't her…

The Lending Library

Faeries try to fit into the human world when the forest where they make their home is destroyed by a mysterious enemy.

EXCERPTS

Chapter One

Ailidh wobbled precariously on her high heels. 

Kayne smirked. "Having problems, dear?"

"Shut up!" she snapped. "I need to practice this until I get it right. We don’t really have many options left open to us, Kayne. You had better practice, too."

He stopped and steadied himself on the railing of the porch. He wriggled his feet out of the closed leather shoes that encased them.

"I don’t know why you insist we wear these ridiculous articles of clothing. This long-sleeved shirt cuts off the circulation to my hands not to mention the lack of space for my wings and these long pants chap my legs.

"Worst of all, are these horrendous leather shoes. They pinch and make my feet swell. Why do we have to go through all of this? I don’t understand." Kayne grumbled.

Ailidh sighed and slowly, patientlyexplained to him, once again, why they were practicing.

"Remember last Wednesday when Keegan and Connal lost their dwelling? The sound of their tree crashing to the ground was deafening. The Others are moving out more and more. We will lose our home if we don’t act first. Now, put your shoes back on and walk for just five more minutes."

Kayne wrestled his shirt off and threw it to the porch’s deck. He pulled the long pants off his body and left them in a heap next to the shirt. Bending forward, he touched his toes gingerly as he gradually unfurled his lacey wings. Slowly, he pulled himself to an upright position. Shoulders back, wings completely expanded, he lifted his 18-inch form to its full height and looked at Ailidh defiantly.

"I don’t need to fit into the Others’ world. They need to adjust themselves to my world and leave us alone."

Ailidh, teetering, grabbed the lower railing of the porch and shook her head.

"Kayne, most of the Others don’t even know we exist. How can they adjust to something they don’t even believe?"

"They adjust to animals, don’t they?"

"The animals chose to be seen. We did not. Remember? Our great, great grandfathers took a vote and decided we would endanger ourselves more if we continued to be visible to the Others. At that time, they didn’t have all the machinery they have now. They moved into our lands at a slower pace. Now, put on the clothes and try to adjust."

"No." Kayne kicked at the clothing on the porch. "I’m going to get a magazine and a cup of coffee. You can stand here and practice day and night for all I care."

He turned on his heels and lifted himself off the ground with his delicate appendages. He lazily winged his way into the open window of the building marked Lending Library.

Hovering until he landed on the balls of his feet, he folded the wings tight to his torso and walked to the corner of the building signed Coffee Shop. He sat in a small chair snugged close to the matching table. Sliding the Newsweek someone had tossed on the table toward him, he flipped through the pages. Minimized for easier handling, the magazine was still large enough to require both of his hands to turn the pages. A diminutive nymph in a waitress uniform with a "Chrissy" nametag took his order for a latte. Ten minutes later, she returned with the steaming liquid in a cup. 

"Thanks, Chrissy." Kayne picked up the cup carefully and took a sip.

"No problem, Kayne," she had a surprisingly deep voice for a nymph. "Where’s Ailidh?"

Kayne jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the front porch. 

"Practicing," he grunted.

"Oh," Chrissy mopped the table next to Kayne’s with a wet rag then flew daintily to the kitchen with the dirty cups and saucers she’d picked up. One of the resident dryads of the valley, Chrissy was living in the tree behind the Lending Library. Her home across the meadow had been one of the first destroyed.

Ailidh is right.Kayne frowned at the silent admission. The Others were invading his world with frightening, swift, uncaring swaths into the forestlands. Soon there wouldn’t be an Ancient tree left. While, at a glance, their movements seemed random, even careless, Kayne had noted a pattern, albeit haphazard, to their actions. Months earlier he’d watched from a safe distance as the huge screeching yellow machines ripped up his ancient wood friends and squashed their bodies beneath armored tracks. He could never be sure whether the squealing had been the old trees or the vicious yellow machines. After the first occasion of watching as they destroyed a sea of Ancients, Kayne had left on shaky wings and flown home. Ailidh was furious at him, thinking he’d been with his friends drinking honeysuckle wine. He couldn’t stop throwing up long enough to tell her what he’d seen.

Defying the Odds

The night elves on the hill aren't happy without their magic. They concoct a plan to punish those who were involved in the act that rendered them almost human. Meanwhile, Uther, the rogue night elf, has returned to woo the Librarian to be his eternal mate.

EXCERPT

In a meadow east of Eugene, Oregon

Bram ambled up the roughly hewn stairs to the willow lounge chair located at the front of his home. He pulled the scrimshawed pipe from his pocket and filled the bowl with his favorite blend of black cherry tobacco. The paced routine of loading the ivory bowl with fragrant leaves and tamping them firmly into place was one of his favorite after dinner rituals. Withdrawing a matchstick from the inner pocket of his vest, he struck the sulfured end against a river rock he'd placed on the root of the towering oak that served as his home.

The fading evening sky showered the mountains in hues of gold and red. Pushing away the light, a blanket of dark blue velvet sprinkled with luminous star points soon prevailed. Bram puffed smoke rings at the darkening heavens.

"Evenin'." A scruffy black and tan terrier mix meandered up and, after circling three times, lay next to the chubby gnome.

"Evening, Silas. How's the family?"

"Well, thank you. Daisy announced we're expecting--again."

Bram chuckled into his beard. "Congratulations."

"Humph. I'll be glad when we're both too old to care. I came over to ask if there are any jobs in sight. I'll need to be working as much as I can now."

It seemed he got one batch of kids out of the house and another was on the way.

Silence stretched between the business partners. Bram pulled deep draughts on his pipe, blowing the smoke away from his friend. His eyes were drawn to the large block of light spilling from the picture window of the behemoth on the hill. The Saun clan, night elves whose callous actions nearly destroyed the fae population of the meadow and surrounding forests, owned the out of place monstrosity.

Bram squinted his eyes to focus his vision on the methodical movement that broke the beam of light. He could just make out a figure pacing rhythmically in front of the casement. Unable to ascertain which of the night elves was engaged in the determined striding, Bram was sure of only one thing…if the night elves were restless and unhappy, the rest of the valley was in trouble.

~ * ~

Gitty paced in front of the picture window, ignoring the expansive view of the green valley below. The thick carpet covering the hand selected hardwood floors muffled the angry stompings of her boots. At the end of each turn, she jabbed the air with her finger.

"Think you can take away my magic, do you?" She spun on the ball of her foot and stamped to the other side of the room. "We'll see about that!" Jab, jab.

Morgan, the younger of the two siblings, stretched his limbs languidly across the fine leather couch, watching the angry display being played out in the living room, a smirk residing on his lips.

"What has your knickers in a twist?" His leg, hanging over the arm of the couch, swung slowly back and forth.

Gitty broke her tirade for a moment. "I'm surprised yours aren't. How can you tolerate not having magic to use?"

"Because, dear sister, I don't needmagic to get my way. I have my," he waved a hand up and down his body, "obviousattributes."

Gitty grimaced. "Please. Don't make me sick."

Pulling to an upright position, Morgan stretched his long legs in front of him, tucking his hands behind his head.

"You're just jealous."

"Hardly."

"Then what's your problem?"

"I don't fancy living my life in pubs among the scum of the valley sponging off the pity of strangers. My plans include owning all I see."

Morgan rose from the couch and faced his sister.

"Good luck with that. Even the Others are wise to your quest for power. I'm going out. See you later." He moseyed out of the living room and down the hall.

Gitty gritted her teeth. Morgan might be her brother, but he was useless when it came to thinking beyond his next good time.

She glared at the source of the fingers of light stretching over the meadow. The owner of the Lending Library was an Other the local fae had embraced with open arms. Even Uther, the one-time leader of the night elves and her uncle, had taken a personal interest in the older female.

"Must be losing his sanity."

She spotted a pinpoint of red light glowing in the far distance. As hard as she tried, she couldn't sense the origin of the light.

"I hate not having my magic!" She smacked the wall with her hand, immediately regretting the action. Bolts of pain shot up her arm.

"Damn it!"

Turning on her heel, she tramped out of the room.

Rogue's Angels Present: Essays From Dysfunctional Families by Casey Bell

Please welcome Casey Bell author of Essays From Dysfunctional Families

Casey Bell will be awarding a free eBook copy of the book as well as a free eBook copy of my book, "A Family of Strangers." to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

Essays From Dysfunctional Families

byCasey Bell

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GENRE:   General Fiction

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BLURB:

Two books in one (Kinda Sorta). Something Different. Essays from Dysfunctional Families is a fictional book which contains essays from ten different American residents. The book is written by fictional writer Dean K Brent. The book Literary Betrayal is a fiction written by Casey Bell, which tells the story of the aftermath of Dean writing the book Essays. Betrayal explores the possibility of what people might do if they discovered a bestseller written by a relative/friend is based on their life.

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EXCERPT:

Michael R.

Goshen, Indiana

I was born and raised in a town in Indiana named Goshen.  I have one bother and one sister, both younger than me.  We grew up in a home that was very confusing.  I did not understand at the time I was a child why my parents did what they did.  They very well knew how to act like the best Hollywood actors, but were never professional actors.  My father was a construction worker.  He brought back pretty good dough.  We were never needy.  When he came home though he was tired, very tired and he spent not much time with us (his children).  Every now and then he would take us to the park and sometimes to exciting places such as: zoos, museums, sporting games, and sometimes the theatre.  My mother on the other hand worked part time as a seamstress.  She was home more often and she would take us out more often than our father.  The only thing that had me; that had all of us confused was there constant change in characters.  After living with them for some time you just got used to the routine. On Friday and Saturday nights we were left home alone.  At first, I wasn’t sure where my parents were going, but as soon as I reached an age where I could understand; it was clear.  Not knowing exactly, but I knew it was a bar or club of the sorts.  They came home drunk and sometimes high.  

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Proud Uncle Casey Bell has authored two Young Adult books, three General Fiction, three Non-Fiction, two Short-Stories, one Horror, one book of Poetries, five Children books, one book of collection of Art, and has produced four Word Search books. Twenty-two books in total, but has no intentions of slowing down. He enjoys sharing stories, ideas, and art that cause people to think beyond the box. Not only a writer, but also a playwright, graphic designer, fine artist, and fashion designer. 

Social Media:

https://www.authorcaseybell.com/socialmedia.html

Link to “Essays from Dysfunctional Families: Literary Betrayal.”

https://www.amazon.com/Essays-Dysfunctional-Families-Betrayal-Version/dp/1505654165/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1563060883&sr=8-1

The book will be $0.99.

Amazon buy link:

https://www.amazon.com/Essays-Dysfunctional-Families-Dean-Brent-ebook/dp/B00RBV05C4/

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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE:

Casey Bell will be awarding a free eBook copy of the book as well as a free eBook copy of my book, "A Family of Strangers." to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f3253

#EditingByAngels

Editing by Angels

Rogue’s Angels would like to help make the publishing process a little bit easier. We offer editing, proofreading, and covers at a reasonable price. 

Rogues Angels have years of editing experience, starting in the 90’s. Please check out resumes at the Rogue’s Angels blog: http://roguesangels.blogspot.com

Editing plus proofreading rates are:

$150 for under 50K words

$250 for 50K to 100K words

$350 for over 100K words.

Covers price varies. Once a cover is used it will not be used again. Check out pre-made covers at:

http://www.designsbymsg.com/SpreeSpecials.html and http://www.designsbymsg.com/FastTrackForSale.html

For more information contact Christine Young ~ achristay@aol.com

AVAILABLE  COVERS:

#EverlastingLove #ContemporaryRomance #Suspense

Everlasting Love

Rosemary Indra

indrascloset@msn.com

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 2

Buy at Amazon: 

BLURB: Everlasting Love

When Miranda Cummins borrows a friend’s cabin to finish writing her long overdue book, she’s surprised to find the one-room retreat already occupied by Kevin Mathews. Though she feels a spontaneous attraction for Kevin, Miranda has recently escaped a controlling husband and isn’t ready for a long-term relationship.

Unsatisfied with his occupation, Kevin is at a crossroads. Miranda understands and encourages him to look at the direction his life is going. Fired up by her encouragement, Kevin returns to Forest Ridge to resume his firefighting career.

When Miranda is threatened by her ex-husband, Kevin realizes he will do anything to protect her. Miranda has shown Kevin a new passion for life. Can he fan the flames of passion into an Everlasting Love?

EXCERPT: Everlasting Love

Miranda Cummings inhaled the fresh fir scent the moment she opened the door of her Chevy Impala-the fragrance of freedom. The cold, crisp air bit at her warm cheeks yet she felt exhilarated. Gravel and slushy snow crunched under her shoes as she hurried around her car. Opening the passenger door she picked up her overnight bag and placed the strap on her shoulder then she added her computer bag. Not wanting to make another trip out in the cold, she hooked several grocery bags on each hand. With one swift hip movement, she closed the door.

Gingerly she walked up the three snow-covered, wooden steps to the deck. Focusing on her weekend of solitude, she quickened her pace to the cabin on her right.

“Can I help you?” a deep baritone voice startled Miranda causing her to fling her arms out and drop one of her grocery bags.

Intent on carrying her belongings into the cabin, she hadn’t seen or heard the man behind her. Turning around, she froze. Reclined in an old-fashioned, white cast iron bathtub with claw feet, the man appeared relaxed, content and not at all perturbed as he bathed on a deck outside.

Steam rose from his warm water into the cold air. Water dripped from his short brown hair and glistened on his muscular torso. She suppressed the desire to caress the breadth of his wide shoulders. Stubble darkened his face with a day’s growth of beard. His rugged good looks caused her heart to flutter.

“I must have made a wrong turn…“ She couldn’t tear her gaze from his broad chest. As the water droplets traveled down his body her gaze followed suit. Miranda realized the hunk of a man was not only tranquil but also very naked. His muscular arms, which rested on the edges of the tub, could easily wrap around her. She wanted to feel his strength, his support from those strong arms. “…somewhere,” her voice squeaked.

He reached down and picked up a can of beer, which sat on the deck. Tipping the can back he took a swig then set the beer beside the tub. “Where were you going?”

His pecks rippled when he moved. Look at his face not his chest, Miranda scolded herself. “A friend of mine has a cabin up here.”

She glanced at the A-frame structure to her right nestled in a grove of fir trees where she’d intended to spend a couple of nights off the beaten path.Flower boxes below the two paned windows held browned plants from winter’s frost. The plumbing’s primitive her friend had said, which would explain a bathtub on the deck. The cabin in front of her fit her friend’s description.

“Abby Denton, I mean Chambers. Abby Chambers said I could stay at their cabin for a few days.” Confident she’d found the right place Miranda met his gaze.

She shifted the packages to her left hand and pulled a GPS device from her coat pocket. “I was a little confused on which road to take at the bottom of the hill.” She couldn’t stop rambling in her attempt to hide her obvious desire for this man.

Miranda looked toward the front of the cabin again. When she heard water splash, she stole a quick glance in his direction wondering if he’d gotten out of the tub.

He tilted his beer back for another drink then returned it to the deck. “You found the right place.” His angular features appeared stern and unyielding.

“Oh good.” Her shoulders lowered, relaxed. “How long until you leave?” Miranda’s gaze held his. She’d planned a quiet weekend which did not include a ruggedly, attractive man. Even with the snow falling around them she felt overly warm and knew the man in front of her caused her flush.

“Lady, it took me half an hour to fill this tub. If you don’t mind, I’m staying in here till the water’s ice cold,” the man’s rich voice drew her attention to his firm chin and broad, enticing smile which reflected in his eyes. “Then I plan to have a good night’s sleep in there.” His toned arm lifted as he pointed toward the cabin.

The man’s brows rose suggestively and Miranda wondered if he knew she found him appealing in a primitive, sexual way. He winked. He knew.

Miranda needed solitude, a chance to put her thoughts on paper. She had a deadline. Within three weeks, her editor required a completed manuscript on her desk. Since she filed for divorce, six months ago, Miranda found writing a romance novel impossible. To create a story of everlasting love was now ridiculous. She knew first hand there was no such thing as happily ever after.

“Obviously Abby and her brother Scott don’t communicate very well. Scott allowed me use of the cabin for the weekend.” The man shrugged his shoulders, his firm pecks lifted with ease.

Tiny snowflakes continued to drift down and stick to the frozen, wooden deck around her. Twilight settled around them with a darkening cloud-filled sky, which held a promise of more snow. Frustrated from the drive up the road, Miranda had no desire to turn around and drive back to town on a snowy mountain road especially at this time of night. She slipped the GPS unit back in her coat pocket. Her stomach churned; she desired this time as much as the stranger in the tub wanted a retreat. She needed a break so bad Miranda was willing to share the cabin with the man she’d just met.

“We could share the place. I’ll stay in my room and you won’t even know I’m here.” She tried to wave her hand in the air but the bags in her grasp forestalled the movement.

The man’s humorous laugh rumbled deep in his chest, causing excitement to dance through her.

“You’ve never stayed here before?” his reply was more of a statement than a question.

Miranda shook her head. “No. Why?”

“The cabin has one room.” He held up the index finger of his right hand. “Not one bedroom but one room. Kitchen, living area and bed are all in one room.” He studied her face.

Determined to hold her ground and not reveal her feelings, she tried to maintain a neutral expression on her face. The packages suddenly weighed her arms down and strained against her fingers. Miranda didn’t know how much longer she could hold them.

“If you’ll excuse me, my water is now cold and I’m getting out of the tub,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Miranda froze. She was unable to move and incapable of taking her eyes off his powerful male form. Reaching for a towel, which rested on a chair beside the tub, he started to stand up. She looked toward the cabin again. Could she spend the weekend in the small cabin with this stranger? She shook her head. The fact she didn’t know him wouldn’t be the challenge. The knowledge she’d spend the time with a virile, handsome man was what stopped her.

When she returned her attention to him, the towel was securely wrapped around his lower torso. With a desire for her fingers to run along the edge of the towel, Miranda swallowed quickly. Her gaze followed the caressing water down his body. He had a perfect male form straight from a page of her romance books. At least six feet tall, his body was lean and muscular. Desire had her heart racing.

Water dripped down his contoured torso and absorbed into the towel wrapped tightly around his waist.

“You’re welcome to spend the night, but I’m not sleeping on the couch,” he said.

Mesmerized, her gaze followed his movements as he started walking toward her. Standing within Miranda’s comfort zone, he glanced down at her face. His nearness didn’t trouble her. She felt the attraction and desire even stronger. Clutching the plastic bags tighter, Miranda suppressed the need to touch his bare chest and wipe the moisture off his skin. Rich chocolate brown eyes held her spellbound; the kindness she saw put her at ease.

“I don’t bite. At least not too hard.” His smile was her undoing, her legs felt weak and if she weren’t careful she’d follow him anywhere.

His statement brought to mind two lovers intertwined. Desire raced through her, heating her blood. The magnetism from this man radiated a rugged sex appeal she couldn’t refuse.  Without a doubt, she knew if she spent the night here they’d have an evening of passionate sex. Staring at the man’s dark hair and broad shoulders, Miranda couldn’t think of a down side to this situation. She’d never had a friend with benefits or a one-night stand. Not even a short-term affair.

He gave her a slow lazy smile. “What’s your name?”

She swallowed quickly to relieve the dryness in her throat. “Miranda Cummings.”

“Miranda,” his deep rich voice awakened a hunger within her. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kevin Mathews.”

His grasp felt firm, strong and matched the confidence she’d seen in his eyes. She wanted to feel his caress on her bare skin; her body. He stared at their joined hands, and Miranda wondered if he felt as moved by their touch as she did.

“Scott and Abby have been friends of mine for a long time. I’d suggest you call and verify my credentials but most cell phones don’t work up here.” Holding the towel ends at his waist with one hand, he bent down and with his other hand he retrieved her grocery bag from the deck. The lower ends of the terrycloth opened slightly revealing a very masculine, toned thigh. “So Miranda what’s it going to be?” Lifting her bag of groceries up, he asked. “Do I take this to your car or to the cabin?” His brows arched in an obvious challenge.

Miranda thought of the divorce papers she’d received that morning and the freedom she’d experienced for the first time in years. She wasn’t one to make a snap decision, but her newfound independence and her need for a weekend away overrode her logical judgment. She nodded. “I’m staying.”