New York
Times & USA Today Bestselling Author Brenda Novak is the author of more
than fifty books. A four-time Rita nominee, she has won many awards, including
the National Reader’s Choice, the Bookseller’s Best, the Book Buyer’s Best, the
Daphne, and the Holt Medallion. She also runs an annual on-line auction for
diabetes research every May at www.brendanovak.com (her youngest son has this
disease). To date, she’s raised over $2 million. For more about Brenda, please
visit www.brendanovak.com. Or her Facebook page.
Blurb:
Just
call her Christmas Eve…
Eve
Harmon has always enjoyed Christmas, but this year it reminds her of everything
she doesn’t have. Almost all her friends are married now, and that’s what Eve
wants, too. Love. A husband and kids of her own. But the B-and-B she manages
and even Whiskey Creek, the small Gold Country town where she was born and
raised, suddenly seem…confining.
As
Eve turns thirty-five, she’s worried that her future will simply be a
reflection of her past. She’s dated all the eligible men in the area. There’s
no one she could even imagine as a husband—until a handsome stranger comes to
town. Eve’s definitely attracted to him, and he seems to have the same reaction
to her. But his darkly mysterious past could ruin Eve’s happily ever after—just
when it finally seems within reach. Just when she’s counting on the best
Christmas of her life!
Excerpt:
Moving slowly to compensate for her hangover, she managed to
prop herself against the headboard and, once there, frowned at her bedmate.
Who the heck was he?
She had no idea, but she was relieved to see that he was no
bum off the street. He wasn’t even one of those “he looked a lot more
attractive last night” kind of pickups everyone joked about. This guy was so
far above average that she began to wonder why he wasn’t already taken. Heaven
forbid that was the case! She didn’t see a ring on his left hand, which rested
on the pillow above his head. But he had to have some story. If he looked this
good sleep-tousled, she could only imagine what he’d be like once he had a
chance to clean up.
It was his bone structure, she decided. Those pronounced
cheekbones. The narrow bridge across his nicely shaped nose. The distinct ridge
of his upper eye sockets. He also had a strong chin and a manly jaw, which
certainly didn’t detract.
So maybe she couldn’t point to just one or two features.
With his long, sandy-colored hair spread across his pillow, he resembled a
fallen angel—and his body further enhanced that image. Although bedding covered
his lower half—thank goodness—she could see his torso. He was built like a
greyhound or panther, lean and sinewy and ideally proportioned with very little
body hair. What body hair he did have was golden and downy, as appealing as his
tanned skin.
He’d make a nice subject for a painter, she mused, someone
looking for refined masculine beauty—a man who could even be called elegant.
But not everything about him was elegant. When she looked
closer, she could see that he had some very unusual scars….
What types of injuries could’ve caused those? she wondered.
It seemed to her that he’d been shot, and more than once. Several round,
bullet-size marks dotted his chest. Then there was a long, jagged scar on his
side that must’ve come from something else….
Out of nowhere—he didn’t open his eyes first, so she had no
warning—he grabbed her wrists in a crushing grip and slammed her onto her back.
Eve gasped as she stared up at him. Gone was the image of an
angel, fallen or otherwise. Shocked at being so easily and unexpectedly
overpowered, she couldn’t even scream. His fierce expression, as if he was
intent on causing her bodily harm, made it worse.
Had she brought home a homicidal maniac? Was he about to
kill her?
The terror that surged up must’ve shown on her face because
he suddenly came to his senses. He gave his head a shake. His expression
cleared and, letting go, he eased off her and slid back onto his side of the
bed.
“Sorry about that. I thought…” His words trailed off, and he
covered his eyes with one arm as if he needed a moment to pull himself
together.
Her heart was now pounding in unison with her head. But once
she could speak somewhat normally, she prompted him to finish his sentence.
“Thought what?”
His lips turned down. “Never mind. I was dreaming.”
She pressed a hand to her chest as though she could slow her
galloping pulse. “It couldn’t have been a pleasant dream.”
“They never are,” he muttered.
Brenda will be awarding a $100 Amazon gift
card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
3 comments:
Thanks for hosting!
Thanks so much for helping me get the word out about my book! I'm thrilled that it's finally release day!
Thank you for hosting!
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