REBEL WRITER: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Sunday Snog: A Patient Heart coming out this week!

2012-01-29T08:05:00.001-05:00

With just days remaining until my next novel debuts, I'm in a fever pitch of excitement. Of course life's been more than a little complicated lately in my personal life which just adds to the rising stress levels but the release of A Patient Heart is a good thing and I'm eager to share this story with the world at large.

It's Sunday and so of course that means Sunday Snog time....from A Patient Heart coming this week from Rebel Ink Press, here's the snog:

“I can wait a few more minutes,” he told her. “I waited a lot longer to have you in my arms.”

Catherine hushed. She’d waited too and so she savored the moment. Connor’s fingers stroked her hair with tenderness and evoked the past. It was an old, familiar gesture and she’d liked it as much then. She reached up to touch his face, to run her hand along the curve of his face, to brush her fingers through his hair. Each small touch induced sweet physical bliss, little runners of anticipation that shivered through her nervous system like electrical pulse. Each caress expressed love but it also foretold what would happen between them soon. Catherine could no more doubt that they would make love than she did that the sun would sink into the western horizon come evening or rise again in the east.

If she moved just right, they would come together now, in this living room but Catherine kept still. She relished these close moments, treasured them and the anticipation toward intimacy could build. Catherine wasn’t sure if he should have sex just hours after leaving the hospital so she could wait.

Or so she thought until Connor leaned down, his breath warm against her lips and kissed her. His mouth brushed against hers, as light and gentle as a butterfly’s wings but when she locked her free arm around his neck and kissed back, things shifted from temperate to sultry in a single second. Connor’s lips burned like cayenne pepper against hers as her body heated. If she didn’t know different, she’d sworn she ran a fever or that it might be summer. The draft that sifted in around the front window touched her and she shivered but it was as much with passion as chill.
Connor took her mouth with hunger and affirmed his needs, physical and emotional. His yearning echoed back from hers and she surrendered to his kiss, spirit and body. Catherine gave without restraint but she took too as his mouth filled her with delight. Fire ignited between them, invisible but potent and she shifted position to get more comfortable. When she did however Connor emitted a groan and she glanced up to see him wince. She realized she’d moved onto his healing gash and she pulled back.

“That must have hurt!” she exclaimed, “I’m sorry.”

Connor caught her before she could bail out of his lap. “It didn’t hurt much, Cat.”

Check out more about me and watch the book trailer my teens created - all the links are here:

Facebook: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Twitter: @leeannwriter

A Page In The Life: http://leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogspot.com

Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy http://leeannsontheimermurphy.blogspot.com

Seanachie Stories – Tuesday Tales And More http://seanachiestories-tuesdaytalesandmore.blogspot.com

Book trailer: http://youtu.be/Eo4Ttr_7O8Q

A Patient Heart final cut.wmv

2012-01-24T15:05:00.000-05:00

In Love's Own Time high def FINAL.wmv

2012-01-24T15:03:00.000-05:00

#Sunday Snog #Sample Sunday: A Patient Heart

2012-01-20T05:44:00.000-05:00

It's another Sunday, another glorious weekend so here's a brand new kiss for Sunday Snog tucked within a tasty little sample from my up and coming out February 3rd new contemporary romance from Rebel Ink Press.

A Patient Heart is one of my favorite novels....love my bad boy hero, Connor Donavan!

Here's the blurb:
As a little girl, Catherine dreamed she'd marry Connor Donavan one day and as teenagers, that dream seemed within reach. Until Connor ended their relationship, leaving town and breaking Catherine's heart. Ten years later, far from the old hometown, Catherine reports for work as a nurse one snowy January evening and learns that her new patient is none other than her old love, Connor. When he recognizes her, all the old feelings stir but a few sparks fly, too. As Connor recovers from an accident, Catherine realizes she loves him more than ever and he seems to love her as well. But after he leaves the hospital and convalesces at her home, his real life intrudes into their quiet time together. Then Connor leaves Catherine behind and she stays until a message sends her speeding to Kansas City, to Connor's club... On Valentine's Day.

And here's the excerpt complete with a kiss!

They could have remained entwined together forever and she wouldn’t complain but after a little time, Catherine stirred. Although he’d said nothing, she thought her weight must be a burden and so she asked, “Do you want me to move? I bet I’m crushing your legs.”

Connor smiled but she saw the fatigue that shadowed his eyes as he said, “I haven’t been able to feel them for twenty minutes but it’s okay. I like you there just fine so stay.”

             She heard his stomach rumble, even felt the vibration. “You’re hungry.”

            “I can wait a few more minutes,” he told her. “I waited a lot longer to have you in my arms.”
             Catherine hushed. She’d waited too and so she savored the moment. Connor’s fingers stroked her hair with tenderness and evoked the past. It was an old, familiar gesture and she’d liked it as much then. She reached up to touch his face, to run her hand along the curve of his face, to brush her fingers through his hair. Each small touch induced sweet physical bliss, little runners of anticipation that shivered through her nervous system like electrical pulse. Each caress expressed love but it also foretold what would happen between them soon. Catherine could no more doubt that they would make love than she did that the sun would sink into the western horizon come evening or rise again in the east.

Connor took her mouth with hunger and affirmed his needs, physical and emotional. His yearning echoed back from hers and she surrendered to his kiss, spirit and body. Catherine gave without restraint but she took too as his mouth filled her with delight. Fire ignited between them, invisible but potent and she shifted position to get more comfortable

Sunday Snog: A Kiss From "A Patient Heart" and #samplesunday

2012-01-14T19:03:00.000-05:00

Here's the link to Victoria Blisse's Sunday Snog blog and all the other snogging going on in the blogosphere today!

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog/

Sunday......it's here and I'm back with another tasty little Sunday Snog. This kiss comes from my soon to be released (February 3 from Rebel Ink Press) contemporary Valentine's romance, A Patient Heart.

Here's the cover and blurb.....then the kiss!

Blurb:

As a little girl Catherine dreamed she'd marry Connor Donavan one day and as teenagers, that dream seemed within reach until Connor ended their relationship, left town and broke her heart. Ten years later, far from the old hometown, Catherine reports for work as a nurse one snowy January evening and learns that her new patient is none other than her old love, Connor. When he recognizes her, all the old feelings stir but a few sparks fly too. As Connor recovers from an accident, Catherine realizes she loves him more than ever and he seems to love her too. But after he leaves the hospital and convalesces at her home, his real life intrudes into their idyll. Connor leaves, Catherine stays until his message sends her speeding to Kansas City, Kansas and Connor's club....on Valentine's Day.

Connor’s fatigue was evident. His eyes drooped and he slumped in the chair but with the cath and his IV lines gone, he didn’t look as ill.

“Tired?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, yeah,” Connor replied, “I’m not complaining, though. It’s good to be up again.

“After you eat lunch and get rested up, how about a shower?” she asked, “Or is that too much for today?”

Connor shrugged, “I don’t know. What is for lunch? Anything I’d want?”

Catherine lifted the lid on the plate and studied it, “It looks like baked chicken and dressing, corn and some pudding.”

He curled his lip but he nodded. “I’ll try to eat it, I guess.”

Connor looked so much like a petulant little boy she laughed, then bent and kissed him full on the mouth with heat. His arms caught her and held her as he kissed her back, his lips sweet as she recalled and yet confident with a maturity he’d lacked before. Catherine felt the pull of his mouth on hers as he took control of the kiss, as strong and inevitable as the ocean tides. Heat flushed her face, spread through her body like ignited wildfire. She welcomed the raging flame, recognized it for what it was and exulted in it. She didn’t know about the love but the passion they’d shared survived. His mouth explored hers, commanding and yet gentle. She caught her breath, held it until her head swam. If she hadn’t caught sight of the monitors he remained plugged into, realized his pulse rate rocketed, his heart rate increased and his blood pressure shot up, Catherine might not have stopped when she did. She pulled back, her lips still warm and curved in a smile.

“Slow down, sweetheart or you’ll collapse into the floor,” she laughed.

Connor grinned but she could see the shimmer of perspiration on his face. “It’d be worth it if I
do. I’m dizzy as hell, though.”

Catherine started to laugh but his expression shifted and warned she pushed his head down between his legs, “Don’t pass out, please, Connor.”

Voice muffled, he responded, “I’m trying not to, Cat.”

His breathing sounded too fast but she put one hand on his back, standing beside him, worried but as he calmed, he began to breathe at an easier pace and she sighed with relief.

"Are you okay?” she asked.

            Connor sat up, face ghost white but lit with a grin. “Yeah, I’m fine, just shakier than I thought.”
            “I’m sorry,” Catherine said.
            His grin widened to the proportion of the Mississippi River, “I’m not.”
            A nursing assistant burst through the door, wide-eyed, “Mr. Donavan is everything all right? I was watching monitors at the desk and yours went wild.”
            “I got a little excited,” Connor replied smiling.

Visit the main Sunday Snog blog here;
http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog/

Sunday Snog: A Handfast Kiss From "The Marriage Cure"

2012-01-08T11:03:00.000-05:00

Sunday has arrived again, the second Sunday of this year so it's time for another Sunday Snog!

This one comes from my historical romance, The Marriage Cure, published last summer from Astraea Press. It's now budget priced at just 99 cents on Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, in fact everywhere it's sold.

“Did ye mean it?” she asked.

“What?”

“What ye said to them in the corn.”

He called her his wife; words that resonated in her soul but she wanted to be certain he meant them.

“Ah, that,” Johnny said. His tone was lighter now than any time since they heard the Payton men coming. “Aye, ye know I did, woman. Ta gra agam duit.”

Her eyes moistened, her heart expanded, and she felt so happy that it almost hurt.

“I love ye, too, Johnny dhu, mo anam cara.”

Johnny turned to face her, the smile on his face lighting his eyes.

“Then will ye live with me and be my wife? Nial aon leighea ar an ngra ach posadh."

“’Tis true,” Sabetha whispered. “So cure me with marriage, then, and I’ll cure ye?”

“Aye.”

“I’ll be yer wife but Johnny?”

“What?”

She did not know how to say it so she just blurted it out.

“There’s no one to wed us proper.”

He laughed and rose, almost turning the bench over in the process, and swept her into his embrace. “Do ye care? I’ll take ye to a priest when one is to be found, or a minister, but in the meantime, hand fasting is good enough for me.”

Sabetha remembered how her Da spoke of hand fasting, how he and her Ma married so. It was, he said, a way of wedding that went back far before the Christ and before St. Patrick brought salvation to Ireland. If it worked then, he told her, it was valid enough now.

“My own parents married that way,” Sabetha said. “They did, back in County Tyrone.”

“Then won’t we do the same?” he said. “If ye like, I can kill ye a deer and bring it to you, the Tsa-La-Gi way but I’m never sure I can hunt without falling over in the woods and I don’t want to wait.”

“I don’t want to wait either.”

They stood, facing each other, hands clasped.

“I take ye, Sabetha, to be my own wife,” Johnny began, trying to recall some if not all of the words from his hasty marriage to Janey but he could not. “I’ll love ye, provide for ye, and care for ye as long as I live.”

She was crying, tears of joy as she said her vow to him,

“Is sibhse fuil m’fhuil, agus cnamh mo chnamh, Tugaim duit mo chrop sa chaoi is go mbiodh an beirt again mar dhuide amhian, tugaim duit mo spiorad go crioch na saol.”

It was the old vow, ancient, that her Da had spoken to her mother, blood of my blood, bone of my bone, I give ye my body so we may be one, I give ye my spirit until our life is done.

He repeated the words back to her, his tongue as fluent with the Gaelic as hers. His face, as he recited the vow, was tender.

“Now ye are my wife, before God and man,” Johnny said. Hands still clasped, they kissed, sweet at first and then warm as her blood rose. Passion blossomed in her veins, carried little shivers of delight to every part of her body. She wanted him, body, and soul, and from the way he kissed her, he wanted it too.

Reason cast aside in the rising ardor, she did not stop to wonder if he felt well enough or if he might be strong enough. Instead, she released his hands, undid her dress, and stepped out of it. She came to him as naked as the hour of her birth, her long hair falling free and loose over them both.

****

Telling A Story, Playing Make Believe

2012-01-05T20:37:00.001-05:00

When a former high school classmate teased me over the holidays on Facebook about using “big words”, he said he might use such words when he grew up. In reply I told him I’d never grown up – I still play make-believe and dress-up except these days I write down my games and call them novels. One of my cousins, who probably remembers my often elaborate childhood games all too well, was quick to chime in his agreement and I laughed because the stories I spun as long as I can remember aren’t so very different than the stories featuring my byline across the cover.

I suppose almost all little girls play “house” and mother their dolls or stuffed animals. They act out scenarios with Barbie dolls which also allow their imaginations a chance to guess at the reality one day of dating or driving or trying on fashions with friends. Young children seem to possess a deep creativity that I’m afraid may fade these days when they enter the realms of the electronic age.
I know one of my favorite games back in the day was “wedding” and I asked for the aid of my older cousins to hold my almost same age cousin in place as my groom.

I liked being a bride, a princess, a pioneer, nurse, a school teacher (ask my brother who suffered through endless lessons in what I liked to call ‘little school’), a mother, restaurant owner and waitress, a USO dancer, a ballerina, a wife, an outlaw, an aviatrix, and more. Whenever possible I used props, a lacy veil to be a bride, a pink tutu for my ballet dancing, a cap pistol to be an outlaw, and one of my mother’s dresses to become a pioneer woman. I wasn’t above moving a lamp into the center of the living room floor to become a campfire or turning a bed into a wagon train either.

By the time I turned nine, I thought I knew just who I’d marry one day – the boy next door except he lived next door to my aunt and uncle, not to me. He was older, all of ten but I spun many a sweet daydream about the day I’d wed Joe in dazzling white. Of course he grew up and I grew out of my crush but the idea lingered. Just as I save things I might use one day, a habit carried over from my Depression era grandparents, I keep ideas around too.

My next novel, A Patient Heart, comes out February 3 from Rebel Ink Press, in advance of Valentine’s Day and the idea of loving the boy next door revives in the story. With less than a month away until it’s out, I’ll share the cover blurb as an example of how I’m still playing make-believe:
As a little girl Catherine dreamed she'd marry Connor Donavan one day and as teenagers, that dream seemed within reach until Connor ended their relationship, left town and broke her heart. Ten years later, far from the old hometown, Catherine reports for work as a nurse one snowy January evening and learns that her new patient is none other than her old love, Connor. When he recognizes her, all the old feelings stir but a few sparks fly too. As Connor recovers from an accident, Catherine realizes she loves him more than ever and he seems to love her too. But after he leaves the hospital and convalesces at her home, his real life intrudes into their idyll. Connor leaves, Catherine stays until his message sends her speeding to Kansas City, Kansas and Connor's club....on Valentine's Day.

If telling stories means I’ve never grown up, then I’m still a kid at heart and will always be one!

Sunday Snog - Jessica And Johnny

2012-01-01T08:02:00.000-05:00

It's Sunday once again and the first Sunday of a new year, all filled with possibility and promise. At the stroke of midnight I shared a kiss with my husband so of course I'm up for Sunday Snog today! This traditon begins with author Victorie Blisse and here's the link back to her blog so you don't miss a single snog!

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/

From Sing We Now of Christmas (and despite the title, a lot of the story takes place during the remainder of the year so it's not just a seasonal novel) here's a heated snog sure to get the blood heating this cold winter's morn!

He pulled her tighter against him and his mouth touched hers, light at first and then with strength. Johnny engulfed her the way that floodwaters take over farmland, consumed her like a hungry man at a banquet and fired her like a tiny ember sparks a candle flame against the night. His warm lips took hers, caressed them and made her whole again. In his arms, her mouth on his, Jessica burned with passion, a fever that no one else could cure. Her head swam with such dizzy delight that when he stumbled they both almost headed down the stairs. He caught her up in his arms and carried her into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him with one boot.

In one graceful shrug, he slid out of the snow covered jacket and it dropped to the floor. Jessica unsnapped his shirt, one slow snap at a time, her hands burrowing beneath it to touch flesh. He slipped her out of her black jeans and pulled that red sweater over her head, catching her hair and tousling it but she didn’t care. Before it joined his jean jacket on the carpet, a splash of red beside the blue, she unzipped his jeans and let them slide down to his ankles. Johnny stepped out of them, removing his briefs in the same motion and he caught her to him, kissing her this time until he robbed her breath.

Her hands roamed over his body, touching bone beneath the flesh, marveling at how lean he was now although he’d not been fat before. His scars beneath her sensitive fingertips made her want to cry for him but that could wait because the living force that seared them both wouldn’t be denied.

That first time, he took her there, still standing, entering her with a roughness she liked and filling her with his cock. Jessica bent backward, balanced against the edge of the couch so he could go deeper and when he did, she cried out with the pleasure of it. He came like a shot, fast and true, and they both shouted together in a wordless cry. Legs wobbly, knees weak, she leaned against him for support and he snatched her up into his arms, took her to the bedroom

“More,” he whispered, “I need more.”

She made no protest but writhed against him in need. That undeniable flame roared again between them, older than time, sweeter than heaven, stronger than death and they coupled, coming together twice more before they lay, legs wrapped together, arms across one another, sated for now

Sing We Now of Christmas

Rebel Ink Press December 2, 2011

Contemporary romance/Christmas/mainstream

ISBN# RIP0001093

Word Count: 44, 300

122 pages

$5.99 ebook
Author: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Blurb:

When Jessica Martin met Johnny Devereaux that December, holiday magic filled the air but their love was no enchantment….he was, without doubt the love of her life and by summer, they were happy newlyweds with all their life and holidays ahead.

But when he failed to return home from a fishing trip on the Fourth of July, Jessica’s world is rocked to the foundation and when the authorities tell her that her husband is missing, presumed dead, she refuses to believe it.

As the months and seasons pass, no one else holds out hope but Jessica believes.

She knows he’ll be home for Christmas no matter what. Her family calls her crazy, Johnny’s family tries to help her find closure but Jessica’s heart refuses to surrender hope.

When Christmas comes, the truth will come out to shock them all.

Buy Links:

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-singwenowofchristmas-649933-149.html

http://www.bookstrand.com/sing-we-now-at-christmaas

http://www.amazon.com/Sing-We-Now-Christmas-ebook/dp/B006H3K73E/ref=sr_1_6?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1322856552&sr=1-6

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/rebel-ink-press?store=ebook&keyword=rebel+ink+press

A Page In The Life

http://leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogspot.com

Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

http://leeannsontheimermurphy.blogspot.com

Website http://leeannwriter.weebly.com

On Twitter @leeannwriter

On Facebook Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Book trailer:

http://youtu.be/mLQBf90xFMM

Television interview:

http://fourstateshomepage.com/fulltext?nxd_id=239267

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/

LEE ANN SONTHEIMER MURPHY: The stuff of science fiction

2011-12-28T13:11:00.000-05:00

LEE ANN SONTHEIMER MURPHY: The stuff of science fiction

Love Never Fails!

2011-12-28T11:41:00.000-05:00

Head over to the TBR Pile and vote - Love Never Fails is up for Book of the Month!

Vote here:

http://thetbrpile.weebly.com/

Excerpt Love Never Fails

Rebel Ink Press

Available as both an Ebook and paperback

Amazon.com, All Romances, and more.

All she had to do was close her eyes and she could see it, that sleepy small town cuddled by the rugged Ozark hills, sprawling over the hills and down into the valley. Each tree-lined street, the town square, the high school football stadium, and the parks were all as vivid as if she'd just left last week instead of five years ago. In memory, Neosho had the frenetic quality of a dream or nightmare, a surreal mystique that didn't seem real. She seldom thought of it, just as she'd tried so hard to block Reid from memory. She couldn't think of him every day or the pain would devour her so she'd trained herself not to think, never to remember. Once he spoke to her again, however, all of her defense mechanisms vanished like rising smoke from a campfire.

His voice on the phone sounded the same, evoked a thousand memories, and twisted her heart with painful spasms. She wondered if he looked the same after five years seasoning and if he'd see the girl he remembered in her face or if she'd look like a stranger.

Whatever prompted him to call her was serious or he'd have never phoned. Caroline had no idea how he even got her number given that it was unlisted. She'd forbidden her few close friends to give it out to anyone and there was no one in Neosho now who would know it. She lost touch with her many of her friends long ago, in the early months of exile, afraid to hear from them because she knew they'd just want to talk about Reid. She had no family anymore, no one except Aunt Julia and the most she sent her was a card each Christmas. She said all she needed to say her aunt on the day she left Neosho forever, leaving behind a life in shambles, a reputation in tatters, and Reid.

Caroline stared at the clouds that wafted past the airliner windows as memories long denied flew at her like birds before an oncoming storm. Her best memories were with Reid, some of the bad featured Aunt Julia, and a few others were the worst; ones that focused on her loss and the secret even Reid didn’t know about. To return she would have to face them all, Reid first and then the others. To face her aunt, she'd have to confront old demons and she wasn’t sure if she had the strength. Although she wanted to, meeting Reid again would be hard enough.

Caroline closed her eyes and pushed all the thoughts away except the memories of Reid, as the plane soared through the sky. At the Northwest Arkansas Regional Airport, the closest destination she could book on short notice, she rented a car and began the hour drive north, back into Missouri, back into the Ozark hills where she grew up. With summer past, the first brilliant colors of fall painted the landscape with orange, yellow, and red.

Caroline was almost home and she was terrified.

She thought she knew the way but now that Highway 71 was four-lane, she felt lost so she meandered off onto the original highway, the old, two-lane road she remembered. She followed it through the neighboring small towns and on into Neosho, amazed at the new businesses that lined the highway on the southern edge of town. It wasn't quite noon when she reached her hometown, which looked both amazingly the same and yet so very different.

Now that she was here, her knees trembled and her hands shook. The faded blue jeans she pulled on for travel felt too casual and the old T-shirt, a favorite, seemed like a rummage sale reject. She hadn't bothered with make-up and the best she could do before she met Reid was brush her hair smooth. Caroline resisted the temptation to go buy a new outfit, to stop and have her hair done or have a full cosmetic makeover at the Merle Norman studio, and drove straight to the Big Spring Park, a tiny area just two blocks from the downtown Square.

She parked in the lot across the street and walked across, nervous now that she'd see Reid again in moments. As she traveled along the sidewalk that led through the park, her heart thumped so hard she could feel each beat. Caroline skirted around the Grecian pool and veered right to where wide cement steps led down to the spring inside the grotto. This had once been their special place, a refuge in times of trouble. Before she could see anything, she heard small stones pitched into the water, the rhythmic plunks familiar, and she knew Reid was near. He was nervous, too, or he wouldn't toss pebbles. When calm, he could sit as still as a statue for hours. With a long, deep breath, Caroline started down the steps toward where he sat, almost at the bottom.

If he heard her coming, which she thought he must have he gave no indication, sitting with his back to her. His broad shoulders were tight beneath the old chambray work shirt he wore and his black curly hair was longer than she remembered, touching the collar of the shirt. She sat down next to him and put her hand on his arm.

“I’m here.”

At her touch, he turned and she felt the energy surge between them, electric as ever. Reid’s eyes, the deep navy blue she remembered so well, met hers and her anxiety melted.

“Caroline.”

His voice made her name an endearment.

They stared at each other as if they could bridge five years distance in a few moments and then he put his arm around her.

“You got here quick. I thought you might keep me waiting half the night.”

“You knew I'd come.”

“Yeah, I did.” It appeared he hadn't doubted her, even after the years of silence and separation and something deep within her stirred and rejoiced at that. Even now, it seemed he knew her well.

“Why did you have me come here, to the grotto?”

“Don’t you remember?” His voice was very soft.

“I do. This was our secret place, somewhere we came when we were troubled.”

Reid nodded. “We came here the day after my mom died.”

Caroline leaned against his shoulder, savoring the feel of his strength behind her, inhaling the long remembered but never forgotten masculine scent of him. En route, she worried that he was injured or ill but even though he looked tense, he also looked well.

“Are you all right?” She needed to know.

“I’m okay,” Reid said. He put his hand in the center of his chest. “That is, except for this pain I’ve had right here for about five years now. A deep, burning pain that never went away. Today though, it feels just a little bit better.”

She inhaled sharply, panicked at the idea of him having chest pains and then realized his heart trouble was romantic, not medical. Without analyzing it or planning what she'd say, she leaned forward.

“Maybe this will help it heal.”

She touched her lips to his, a very light kiss, her mouth barely touching his.

“It helps if it’s real,” Reid said, taking her face into his hands and kissing her with thoroughness that ignited fire in her veins. “Did you mean what you said on the phone?”

Wishing The Magic of Christmas From My Heart to Yours!

2011-12-16T10:33:00.000-05:00

May the wonder and magic of the holiday season be yours!

One word often describes the holiday season: magic. Even though most of us find ourselves running fast in an effort to keep up with the increased activities, entertainments, and events we want to believe in magic. Maybe it dates back to our childhoods when the sparkle of Christmas lights strung on the tree or the appearance of Santa Claus made magic come alive.

I suppose most American kids believe in Santa at one point in their life although I’ve known a few parents who wouldn’t let the legend live for their broods. My own belief in the jolly old elf exceeded the basic expectations but then I have a very good reason for that – Santa Claus is my uncle.

The family connection provided me with extra leverage with my own kids when they were small because hey, if Saint Nick happens to be Mommy’s uncle, they realized toeing the behavior line (or at least making an effort) might be important.

My Uncle Bill Puett put aside his everyday life as a delivery route man for Just-Rite Dairy in my hometown of St. Joseph, Missouri each December. Since he happened to be a large man year round, he fit the physical description to perfection and his demeanor happened to be both cheerful and giving. He started out playing Santa for some dairy promotions back in the day when Just-Rite featured special ice cream novelties for the holidays. Their individual serving size Christmas trees, Santa faces, and big ice cream cakes were a hit in northern Missouri and Uncle Bill promoted them well.

He enjoyed the role so much he bought his own Santa Claus suit and before long, he filled those black boots like the real deal. I bought into the entire Santa thing with a whole heart as a young child. Why wouldn’t I when on a routine trip to a local supermarket Santa Claus himself approached me and called me by name? Or how about the Christmas Eve evening visit from my Aunt Janet who just happened to run across Santa Claus out on the walk and invite him to come in with her?

During the ordinary season of the year, my uncle and aunt showered me with gifts for no occasion at all. I still have a huge stuffed blue dog – which my cousin actually delivered to me from my late grandmother’s attic this past summer – larger than I was at the time. They bought me my first bikini when I was about four, binoculars to rival those of any bird watcher, and so much more. With such a giving heart, Uncle Bill brought Santa to life so well I couldn’t tell the difference.

That wasn’t the case for other would-be Santa figures. At the local discount department store in downtown St. Joseph, Missouri, my Granny’s neighbor played Santa but he was too skinny and too sour. Besides, when my Granny would say, “This is him, Lee Ann, the real Santa Claus so tell him what you want for Christmas” but above my head greet him with “Hello, Faye, how’s the Missus? Tell her I said ‘hello’, it diminished the plausibility. At an early age I decided most of those store Santa Claus guys and the ones who rang bells for donations on street corners must be the real Santa’s helpers but the Santa Claus who knew my name, at home and out in public, well he was real.

After my uncle and aunt produced their children, Aunt Janet even offered up photographic evidence – pictures of Santa placing packages beneath their tree. So I grew up believing in Santa, hanging onto the mystery and magic a little longer than most kids probably do. And even when I learned the story of Santa Claus embodies the spirit of love and giving, I still believed in the magic if not the man.

Believing in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary is an important factor in my recent Christmas release from Rebel Ink Press. In Sing We Now of Christmas, my heroine is a young bride whose beloved husband fails to return from a Fourth of July fishing trip and is presumed dead. She doesn’t buy it and so she waits with hope in her heart for Christmas, the season when they first met for a miracle. If I hadn’t believed in Santa, then maybe I couldn’t believe in hope either.

Hope and magic are what make the Christmas season special. Both are reflected in the lovely lights, the holiday displays, the Christmas carols, and the candles left in the window to light the way for a lonely traveler. Long before Christians chose the winter solstice to mark the birth of Christ, the human animal celebrated hope, light, joy, and magic each year at this time.

Readers who want to find a new Christmas novel offering up all of the above will enjoy my first ever Christmas release, Sing We Now of Christmas from Rebel Ink Press now available at online retailers including All Romance Ebooks, Bookstrand, Coffee Time Romance, Barnes and Noble, and Amazon.com.

Join The Fun - Kathleen Grieve's Birthday Bash Blog Hop!

2011-12-12T00:00:00.001-05:00

Birthdays are special.....and whether or not we like to count the number of candles on the cake most of us delight in celebrating another birthday - ours or someone else's.

Author Kathleen Grieve is celebrating her birthday in a big way - with a blog hop featuring free ebooks from several of her favorite authors including me!

Free e-books by your favorite authors!

$50 Amazon Gift Card

Five $5.00 Evernight Gift Certificates

Grand Prize: Kindle

TO BE ENTERED IN THE GRAND PRIZE DRAWS, YOU WILL NEED TO FOLLOW AND COMMENT ON THIS POST ON THE KEEPING A PULSE ON LIFE & ROMANCE BLOG AT WWW.KATHLEENGRIEVE.BLOGSPOT.COM. THERE IS A LIST OF PARTICIPATING AUTHORS ON KATHLEEN'S BLOG. EACH IS LINKED TO HER INDIVIDUAL AUTHOR BLOG THAT IS PARTICIPATING. BE SURE TO HIT AS MANY BLOGS AS YOU CAN AND COMMENT ON EACH TO INCREASE YOUR CHANCES OF WINNING!!!

Take a chance at winning Sing We Now of Christmas, my new Christmas novel from Rebel Ink Press

Sunday Snog (#samplesunday) From Sing We Now of Christmas

2011-12-11T00:08:00.001-05:00

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/tag/sunday-snog/

Good Sunday to you once again as we share another sexy snog from my latest release, Sing We Now of Christmas.

Judging by his even breath he was deep into sleep country but Jessica bent down to kiss his mouth, slow and serious. He responded before he awoke, his lips sculpting to fit hers and when he opened his eyes, he grinned.

“Hey, Johnny,” she said in the huskiest whisper she could summon. “It’s bedtime.”

He blinked, still smiling. “Is it?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Then come here, honey,” he said, “let me rock you to sleep.”

He sat up and then snagged her with his arms. He cuddled her on his lap and began to kiss her with gusto. Johnny tasted her with the same eager zeal she thought he would have for a good steak, the perfect hamburger or maybe a fine wine. Her appetite equaled his and she returned his kisses. Her arms locked around his neck to hold tight as his hands roamed, caressing her with both ardor and appreciation.

When he gathered her up and carried her into the bedroom Jessica thought she would swoon with delight. She loved it, adored being mastered and loved with such intensity. He put her on the bed as her senses embraced all the sensual triggers around her, the rich aroma of gardenias, the delightful music that evoked emotion, the candlelit ambiance, and his touch against her skin. Jessica gloried in it and surrendered.

Sing We Now of Christmas

Rebel Ink Press December 2, 2011Contemporary romance/Christmas/mainstream

Word Count: 44, 300

122 pages

$5.99 ebook
Author: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Blurb:

As the months and seasons pass, no one else holds out hope but Jessica believes.

She knows he’ll be home for Christmas no matter what. Her family calls her crazy, Johnny’s family tries to help her find closure but Jessica’s heart refuses to surrender hope.

When Christmas comes, the truth will come out to shock them all.

Buy Links:

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-singwenowofchristmas-649933-149.html

http://www.bookstrand.com/sing-we-now-at-christmaas

http://www.amazon.com/Sing-We-Now-Christmas-ebook/dp/B006H3K73E/ref=sr_1_6?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1322856552&sr=1-6

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/rebel-ink-press?store=ebook&keyword=rebel+ink+press

A Page In The Life

http://leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogspot.com

Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

http://leeannsontheimermurphy.blogspot.com

Website http://leeannwriter.weebly.com

On Twitter @leeannwriter

On Facebook Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Book trailer:

http://youtu.be/mLQBf90xFMM

A Little Christmas Magic Remembered.....

2011-12-10T07:45:00.002-05:00

When I reminisce about Christmas, there are certain sights, sounds, and smells evoked by memory. Although these days I put up an artificial no fuss tree, we always had a fresh cut evergreen in my childhood. The earliest Christmas trees I recall were Douglas Fir and later Scotch Pines but both offered up aromatic delights even if they dried out and dropped needles everywhere. When I walk past the Christmas trees for sale at the local market, I always pause to inhale the sweet scent. At home I often put a pine scented candle on my candle warmer to bring the familiar and coveted smell into the house.

Wreaths, poinsettias, a sprig of mistletoe, real holly complete with berries, and Santa’s face are other holiday icons which appear each year. Candles to represent hope are another must have item for my celebration. I adore the smell of even a plain wax candle, bringing to mind other festive occasions and the clean, bright flare of a flame burning in the night. The old idea of a candle in the window to light the way for a weary traveler or welcome someone home resonates with sentimental appeal. That’s why one of my first choices for the title of my new Christmas release from Rebel Ink Press was “A Candle In The Window” but I always check out my potential titles. When I did, I learned apparently a lot of other people feel the same warm and fuzzy feelings about the tradition so I went back to the drawing board and came up with a title borrowed from one of my favorite Christmas songs, Sing We Now of Christmas. The song is a 15^th century carol and although I adore any version my top favorite is the instrumental version found on a CD I own with Highland Christmas music. The poignant music seemed perfect as inspiration for my Christmas novel.

I’d like to share the blurb:

As the months and seasons pass, no one else holds out hope but Jessica believes.

She knows he’ll be home for Christmas no matter what. Her family calls her crazy, Johnny’s family tries to help her find closure but Jessica’s heart refuses to surrender hope.

When Christmas comes, the truth will come out to shock them all.

And here’s a little excerpt from the night my heroine Jessica met her Johnny…..

She got up to leave, unhappy because her friend, Susan, spent all her time with the lead singer of the band, and backed into someone. In her haste she almost lost her balance. Strong arms caught her and held her upright as a voice said, audible above the music but not loud,

“Whoa, there honey, take it easy.”

Jessica whirled, embarrassed, to mumble an apology. All her words faded away when she gazed into his eyes, dark brown and richer than sweet chocolate. He looked back with interest and she felt a strong sense of attraction. He wasn’t the kind of guy she would give a second glance under any other circumstance but tonight she couldn’t look anywhere else. Everything about him was opposite of what she liked in a man – she liked tailored, Brooks Brothers business charm and he radiated country cowboy.

He fit into his faded Wranglers as if they’d been made just for his long legs and his pearl snap button blue patterned Western shirt suited him. He towered above her, taller by several inches even without the worn cowboy boots he wore. She inhaled his scent, a potent mixture of musky cologne, tobacco smoke, and beneath it all, Irish Spring soap. His hands, still holding her arms, were warm against her bare skin and she was glad, now, that she’d worn the black silk halter top despite the cold instead of the red sweater she’d worn to school. Jessica made her voice work with effort, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he said and she drank in his voice, strong and comforting with just enough Oklahoma twang to make it interesting. “Would you care to dance?”

“I’d love it,” Jessica said as he released his grip on her arms to grab her hand instead. “My name’s Jessica Martin.”

“I’m Johnny,” he said and she committed the name to memory, “Johnny Devereaux.”

He led her onto the tiny dance floor just as Mark began to sing the softer, sweeter vintage country song, Lookin’ For Love. The old Johnny Lee song she remembered from that movie, Urban Cowboy, now felt like a theme song. She recalled watching it one late night in college, hating the boot scooting dance moves and the mechanical bull riding but loving the scene where Debra Winger danced to this same music with John Travolta. Such a coincidence she mused, Johnny Lee, John Travolta, and Johnny Devereaux.

Johnny put his arms around her and she cuddled close against him for the slow dance. They swayed together, their easy motions in time with the music, and she felt safe. Jessica’s head fell short of his shoulder and so as they danced, she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Above them, the stationary silver ball that must have once spun reflected the colorful Christmas lights strung above the bar and Jessica felt the strangest sense of coming home in his arms. She wanted to stay there forever, wrapped in that magic cocoon of his embrace, and hold this moment close to her heart.

And a few places readers, friends, and fans can find me:

A Page In The Life

http://leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogspot.com

Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

http://leeannsontheimermurphy.blogspot.com

Website http://leeannwriter.weebly.com

On Twitter @leeannwriter

On Facebook Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Evernight Publishing Twelve Days of Christmas Blog Hop - LETTER TO SANTA

2011-11-29T10:18:00.002-05:00

Did you ever write a letter to Santa Claus and ask for what you wanted?
That's just what Elise did and so on Christmas Eve when a sexy hunk showed up at her door, she decided maybe Santa'd dropped off her present.

Maybe it was the red Moscato wine she'd been drinking that let down her guard or just loneliness....or a littlel hint of holiday magic....but Elise let him in and kissed him without mistletoe.

That's just how my offering in the new Stockings and Suspenders Christmas anthlogy from Evernight Publishing begins. I'm the last stop on the fun Twelve Days of Christmas blog hop but I'm glad you stopped by. I think they saved the best for last - ;)!
of C.R Moss and her story, Chasing Miss Kringle, featuring a hero to make you beg for a once over. Jezebel Jorge with Snow Angel, tsk, tsk these erotic authors... and Lila Shaw talking about Naughty and Nice.

Stockings and Suspenders also features Seleste DeLaney and her elves with Making the Naughty List. Carolyn Rosewood with A Very Naughty Christmas, and it is naughty indeed, and Xondra Day with Promises plus Kelly Yeakle's story, Santa's Little Helper, Alaska Angelini's Mistletoe Masquerade

As the temperature drops, the women in this collection of stories find naughty and delicious ways to warm up for the holidays.

A boss with a proposal to make her sweat, a promise from an Italian assistant, a cabin in the middle of nowhere with two men waiting to cater to her every desire, a special surprise for a lonely solider...

All of these encounters and more from ten talented authors. Get ready for some holiday loving...Evernight style.

Remember to visit the main Evernight blog to follow the trail, follow and leave a comment, to be in with a chance of winning prizes, including a copy of Stockings & Suspenders and a $15 Evernight Publishing gift certificate.

Here's a sexy little snippet from my story to tempt your tastes and make you want the anthology, filled with twelve sensual stories from Evernight authors.

From "A Letter To Santa"

Elise offered him her mouth and he took it, not as gentle this time but with a rising fever. His lips explored hers as he shed the coat so that he could pull her into his arms. Her exposed skin goose pimpled as his cold hands caressed her, moving from her shoulders down to her waist. He slipped them beneath the satin as she quivered, pussy growing moist and body arching as the need for more grew. His rough Chambray shirt against her sensitive skin delivered a sensual delight and she rubbed against him like a cat enjoying a good scratch. In response, he picked her up into his arms and held her, still kissing her before sitting down on her loveseat with her on his lap.

That lap wasn’t soft but hard with his desire, something she could feel through his jeans and she relaxed into his arms, surrounded with him. It gave her a delightful sense of coming home and yet combined with a dirty, decadent pleasure she loved. His kisses shifted from her mouth down to her soft throat, focusing on that tender spot at the base of it. His mouth warmed her there and when he moved to the side of her neck to nibble, she thought for a moment that she might just come with the sheer pleasure of it.

She ached to run her hands over his chest and lower, but her fingers struggled to unsnap his shirt. At the same time, he slid the thin, ribbon like straps of her nighty down over her shoulders so that the gown revealed her breasts. Nicholas stroked them, his fingers teasing the nipples on each until they stood up at attention like good little soldiers. They hardened and ached as she sighed with pleasure and yet a growing need for total completion.

When he put his mouth over one nipple and suckled, the sensation almost drove her mad. She whimpered with the amazing sensation, so strong that it sent shivers down her spine and softened her bones until they seemed pliable. His breath blew warm between her breasts and she moaned, loving the feel of it. Greedy, she yearned for more.

Her need pulsed between her legs and he stood up with her still in his embrace. “Bedroom?”

“In there,” she gasped. In the small house, it should be obvious but if his desire confused his other senses as much it did hers, he might be lost. He carried her into the bedroom, lips tantalizing her mouth with more kisses and put her on the bed. In one single, swift motion he stripped the red gown from her, revealing her nude body and then he began to remove his clothes. Nicholas stepped out of the jeans, abandoned them and she smiled to see that he was bare beneath them. He stripped out of the shirt, tossing it down and she reached for him, needy and fevered with desire. Her pussy radiated heat and grew wet, ready and wanting, needing his hard cock to deliver the release she sought.

. His nude body, lean and hard, covered hers as heat flickered between them. Elise burned with the fever of unbridled desire and she felt the flame that burned his skin hot against hers. He lay over her, one knee on either side of her legs and devoured her with his mouth. His kiss came hard, a powerful one that sucked her breath and addled her senses. At the same time, his hands, large and yet tender, moved over her body. He touched her everywhere, shoulders, breasts, belly, legs, running his hands across her skin as if he were blind and touch offered sight. His hands evoked a wicked, delightful sensation she adored.

In return, Elise grasped his shoulders and then let her own hands stroke his back. That broad expanse tightened with power and she, on impulse, raked her manicured nails over his skin with more force than a back scratch yet not enough to draw blood. His wordless grunt of pleasure inspired her to do more so she nibbled at his shoulder, her mouth first gentle and then harsh. She suckled at his skin so that she’d leave a bruise, a love mark, and then used her teeth to needle his flesh. His response shuddered through him and she knew that he liked it.

Nicholas took her hands and held them so that he could do his will. He lowered his mouth to her chest, just above her breasts and gnawed at her skin with the same abandon she used. He nibbled and used his mouth until she knew that he would mark her, all dark and purple with love. She all but purred in response and when he shifted downward, doing the same, her tiny sounds grew with her desire.

She ached for him to take her now with a harsh thrust and yet she savored the slow foreplay, delighting in the way it made her crazy for more. He left his marks on both her breasts and then dipped past her flat belly to her waiting pussy, wet and slick with need.

Nicholas kissed her inner thighs and then he used his tongue to explore her cunt slow and measured, with a delicacy that shut down conscious thought. Elise knew nothing but the intensity of the physical sensations he delivered as his tongue reached inward, flicking and licking with skill. Her fingers caught in his long hair and held, seeking something solid to grasp as she shrieked with the sheer delight of the sensation.

He brought her almost to the brink and then withdrew, leaving her needy and with a throbbing tension that hurt even as it delivered such exquisite pleasure. He raised himself on both elbows to kiss her, the taste of her own pussy on his lips and she moaned. She would have taken him into her mouth to pleasure him but he controlled this lovemaking and she submitted to it, letting him take charge.

As her want grew more uncomfortable, the need for release threatening to split her in half, he entered her at last. Nicholas thrust into her with power, packed her full and sent her senses reeling. He worked in and out of her body, each time taking her closer to that zenith where everything would collide into utter pleasure. She rocked with him, her body lifting to meet his and they connected, hands linked together and held tight.

When the moment came, they climaxed at the same time, their bodies intertwined into one and the intensity of that orgasm overwhelmed her. Sensuality consumed them Elise and she rode it down to earth, the bliss remaining as they lay, bodies still joined, sated and satisfied.

Aftershocks quivered through her for several minutes following, little miniature orgasms that she enjoyed.

“Lady, that was fantastic,” Nicholas whispered when he could speak again.

“It was awesome,” she responded, curled against his massive chest, comfortable and content

Don't forget to leave a comment, to be in with a chance of winning prizes, including a copy of Stockings & Suspenders and a $15 Evernight Publishing gift certificate.

#Sample Sunday #Sunday Snog - Sing We Now of Christmas

2011-11-26T06:13:00.000-05:00

Here we are, the first Sunday of Advent and the last Sunday before my long awaited Christmas novel Sing We Now of Christmas releases from Rebel Ink Press on December 3rd so I'm happy and probably more than a little impatient. Today's sample includes (of course) a good snog so let's offer up the details then the sample:

Sing We Now of Christmas

Coming December 3 Rebel Ink Press

122 pages

Blurb:

As the months and seasons pass, no one else holds out hope but Jessica believes.

She knows he’ll be home for Christmas no matter what. Her family calls her crazy, Johnny’s family tries to help her find closure but Jessica’s heart refuses to surrender hope.

When Christmas comes, the truth will come out to shock them all.

Sample and Snog:

"Kiss me now, Johnny."

He pulled her tighter against him and his mouth touched hers, light at first and then with strength. Johnny engulfed her in the way that floodwaters take over farmland, consumed her like a hungry man at a banquet and fired her like a tiny ember sparks against the night. His warm lips took hers, caressed them and made her whole again. In his arms, her mouth on his, Jessica burned with passion, a fever that no one else could cure.

Available beginning December 3 at Amazon.com, All RomancesEbooks.com, Bookstrand.com, BarnesandNoble.com and more!

Other places to find me:

A Page In The Life

http://leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogspot.com

Rebel Writer: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

http://leeannsontheimermurphy.blogspot.com

Website http://leeannwriter.weebly.com

On Twitter @leeannwriter

On Facebook Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

#SUNDAY SNOG #SAMPLE SUNDAY - From Sing We Now of Christmas!

2011-11-19T17:29:00.001-05:00

Another Sunday as we count down the days until our American Thanksgiving this coming Thursday and on to Christmas after that. Hard to believe that next Sunday begins the Advent season and on December 3, my next Rebel Ink Press release will be out.

Sing We Now of Christmas is a novel not just about Christmas although the holiday is prominent in the story. It's a story about love and hope in the face of despair, about beginnings and endings.

Be sure to jump over to Victoria Blisse's blog to read more Sunday Snogs:

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog/

Here's the blurb and then an excerpt:

As the months and seasons pass, no one else holds out hope but Jessica believes.

She knows he’ll be home for Christmas no matter what. Her family calls her crazy, Johnny’s family tries to help her find closure but Jessica’s heart refuses to surrender hope.

When Christmas comes, the truth will come out to shock them all.

“So, Mrs. Devereaux,” Johnny whispered, “Are you happy?”

“Very.”
“You were the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen but I couldn’t wait for the wedding to be over.”
“Why?” She’d asked but she knew.
            “I wanted you all to myself out here,” Johnny said, his hand caressing her hair with a light touch as gentle as the breeze. “I want you tonight and forever. Look at the stars.”
            “They’re beautiful.”
            “They’re magic,” he breathed against her skin, “just as enchanted as the snow was that night we met.”
            “That night was like a fairy tale come true,” Jessica answered, “it was a night for dreams.”
“So is this one, pretty girl.”
            “Johnny?"
          “What is it?”

“Love me.”

They were still nude from their earlier lovemaking and as he cinched her closer to him, she could feel the heat of his body against her cooler flesh. She shivered but it wasn’t from cold but anticipation. His large hands moved over her body with the capable skill of a craftsman, with the same detail and care that he used when he carved little animals and flowers from wood. In his day job, as a punch press operator, his hands were precise and skilled. Although this was different, she basked in the knowledge that he paid even more attention to her, used even greater care. She rubbed her hands over his skin, marveling at the softness of it, the feel of it beneath her sensitive finger tips.

His mouth connected to hers and fit, like a key to a lock or a button latched into a buttonhole. Her lips molded to his, became one with his lips until their kiss was not just two people beneath a star flung sky but a fusion of love. Her body hearkened to his kiss, softening and stretching closer so that their bodies came together, skin to skin. They lay so close that she could hear the steady beat of his heart, feel the exhalation of his breath. Johnny’s lips transferred heat into her body and within moments, she no longer felt the cool night breezes but burned with fever, a love fever that had no cure.

She parted her lips as he took his mouth away and kissed down her chin, over her throat and onto her breasts. Jessica clutched his shoulders as he reached her feminine center and when he entered her, she embraced him with everything she had, physical and emotional. They connected and locked, their love showering them both with an explosion of passionate pleasure that consumed them with rejoicing. After, they curled up beneath a blanket there on the cushions, tucked away into the almost hidden inlet and slept until dawn touched the lake waters with the purest golden sunlight she’d ever seen.

#SUNDAYSNOG #SAMPLESUNDAY from Love Never Fails!

2011-11-12T15:35:00.000-05:00

This week's Sunday Snog and Sample Sunday offerings come from my first Rebel Ink Press release, LOVE NEVER FAILS. I just had a friend read it for the first time this week and loved it so I thought I'd feature it again here:

First the details, then the excerpt with a snog (of course)

LOVE NEVER FAILS (contemporary romance)

Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Rebel Ink Press (May 29, 2011)

171 pages

Also available in paperback (232 pages)

Blurb:

Old love sometimes fades away...

When a late night phone call from the former love of her life interrupts
both her sleep and her otherwise quiet existence, Caroline Cunningham
finds she can’t refuse Reid Ramsay's request for help. As the call pulls
Caroline back to her small hometown and into the heart of the search for
Reid’s missing brother, Caroline finds the feelings she thought she'd
buried where Reid was concerned are indeed alive and well.

And sometimes it refuses to die...

Reid Ramsay is still in love with Caroline Cunningham. As they work
together searching for Reid's brother, Reid and Caro finding themselves
attempting to rebuild the life they once shared together. But their
future remains uncertain. Before they can find the happiness they seek,
each must work through the emotional baggage of the past and test the
theory they desperately hope rings true.

Excerpt:

Excerpt – LOVE NEVER FAILS

“I have a craving.”

“What is it? Pizza, Mexican, or Chinese?”

“It’s you,” Caroline said and grabbed him by the collar. With his face caught between her hands, she kissed him with all the need she'd held back for days. “Let’s go home.”

His lips devoured hers, his hands claimed her and his eyes kindled with the same wild desire that ran through her like lighting through storm clouds.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

Once they reached his apartment, he tossed his keys onto the table and turned to her. She met him halfway there, hands seeking him. Her fingers combed through his hair, twirling his curls against as his mouth latched onto hers with force. Her hands dropped to pull his shirt over his head and then she raked her nails down his back, tantalizing his warm flesh. Reid moaned with pleasure, his lips fastened to hers, as his hands roamed down her body, fondling at a furious pace.

Caroline freed her mouth and brought it down to suckle one of his nipples. He shivered with pleasure as she began to nibble tiny love bites across his chest. His hands stripped down her blue jeans and her bikini underwear slid down with them. Reid touched her in that feminine fold and she gasped with delight.

She hungered for him, needed him to feel complete. Caroline indulged, her body hot

and her thoughts wicked sweet. He must feel the same because he devoured her, ate her up with his eyes and consumed her with his mouth and hands. All the stored tensions

melted, ebbing away so their pleasure could climb to new heights.

Some time, somewhere in the process, they made it to the bedroom where Reid ravished her, taking her with his body and whispering delicious words of love. Time ceased to matter and Caroline thought of nothing but Reid and the intimate pleasures that rocked her higher and higher until it was too great to hold and she climaxed, releasing it all in a wild burst of joy that Reid shared.

Sated and sweaty, she lay back-- lips bruised, body tender, and totally happy.

“Now I’m hungry,” Reid whispered.

“I’m starving.”

Caroline was hungry but she basked in the somnolent warmth that lingered, reluctant to get up and dress. If she could, she'd stay here forever, savoring this enchanted cocoon they built. But that was impossible. Reality reared up, intruding into their space and she knew they had to get up.

Buy links:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1937265056/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_alp_9fibob1AE1KMD

http://www.amazon.com/Love-Never-Fails-ebook/dp/B0053CYRPO

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-never-fails-lee-ann-sontheimer-murphy/1031334544?ean=2940012876034&itm=4&usri=lee%2bann%2bsontheimer%2bmurphy

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-loveneverfails-550136-149.html

http://www.amazon.com/Love-Never-Fails-Sontheimer-Murphy/dp/1937265056/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1309360188&sr=1-1

http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookStore/index.php?main_page=pubs_product_book_info&cPath=103&products_id=5310

http://www.manicreaders.com/index.cfm?disp=bookdetail&bookid=14802

#Sample Sunday #Sunday Snog - sneak peek at SING WE NOW OF CHRISTMAS

2011-11-05T23:20:00.000-04:00

My calendar still reads November and Halloween is just over but it's never too soon to think about Christmas....or the special holiday books you'll want to read or give your near and dear. I'm excited about my first ever Christmas release, Sing We Now of Christmas out December 3 from Rebel Ink Press so I'm sharing a very special first peek and excerpt. First the blurb:

As the months and seasons pass, no one else holds out hope but Jessica believes.

She knows he’ll be home for Christmas no matter what. Her family calls her crazy, Johnny’s family tries to help her find closure but Jessica’s heart refuses to surrender hope.

When Christmas comes, the truth will come out to shock them all.

Check out the brand new book trailer here:

http://youtu.be/mLQBf90xFMM

And an excerpt:

A vase of white, red and pink roses stood on her dresser, the fragrance of the flowers heavy and sweet in the room. Candles sat on the table beside her bed and on the headboard. As they flickered she caught their scent, a rich gardenia smell she liked, one that reminded her of the classic White Shoulders perfume. A brand new comforter, soft and fluffy, covered her bed replacing the worn out old discount store navy blue bedspread. Jessica stroked her hand across the surface, admiring the white comforter where big pink and crimson roses bloomed. Mannheim Steamroller flowed from her CD player. Impressed by the effort he’d made to create a romantic scene, she smiled.

If he could create this mood, then she could follow his lead. Jessica opened a dresser drawer and searched. She rejected the full-length flannel nightgown, the faded and well-worn cotton nightshirt, the silky shorts she often slept in and pulled out the one piece of sexy lingerie she owned with triumph. The satin baby doll still had the store tags from when she bought it at clearance after Valentine’s Day last year, unable to resist the pretty crimson garment. She’d wondered who she might wear it for or if she’d ever have the nerve, but tonight, inspired by his preparation, she put it on. She sprayed on a little Obsession and brushed her hair until it hung smooth past her shoulders. Inside she trembled from a volatile combination of nerves and desire but she walked into the living room with a siren’s strut only to find Johnny still asleep.

She knelt down, noticing the way that his long eyelashes brushed his cheeks and how a slight smile teased his lips. Judging by his even breath, he was deep into sleep country but Jessica bent down to kiss his mouth, slow and serious. He responded before he awoke, his lips sculpting to fit hers and when he opened his eyes, he grinned.

“Hey, Johnny,” she said in the huskiest whisper she could summon. “It’s bedtime.”

He blinked, still smiling. “Is it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then come here, honey,” he said. “Let me rock you to sleep.”

He sat up and snagged her with his arms. He cuddled her on his lap and kissed her with gusto. Johnny tasted her with the same eager zeal she thought he would’ve for a good steak, the perfect hamburger or maybe a fine wine. Her appetite equaled his and she returned his kisses. Her arms locked around his neck to hold tight as his hands roamed, caressing her with both ardor and appreciation.

When he gathered her up and carried her into the bedroom, Jessica thought she would swoon with delight. She loved it, adored being mastered and loved with such intensity. He put her on the bed as her senses embraced all the sensual triggers around her, the rich aroma of gardenias, delightful music that evoked emotion, the candlelit ambiance and his touch against her skin. Jessica gloried in it and surrendered.

Any lingering restraint, old fears from previous relationships that went sour vanished in the total power of Johnny’s lovemaking. As they fondled and caressed, kissed and touched, Jessica crossed the last boundary to the total certainty that this man was the love of her life, her significant other, forever.

When they came together like a force of nature, on a grand scale like a cold and warm front intersecting, everything was right. Their timing brought them home together on a slow, full rush of delight, a pleasure that enveloped and encompassed them both. In those moments, that eternity that could never last long enough, they became one, united in a way that transcended any words, any laws, any binding. Nothing could be more full or complete than this and with wonder, with joy, they both knew it well.

Afterward, as they unwound with sweet lethargy they whispered words of love and promises that didn’t have to be spoken to be valid. By the time the shadows cast by the candles grew tall on the walls, they knew they would have to move but neither had the energy or inclination.

Available from Rebel Ink Press Dec 3, 2011

Available at All Romance E Books, Bookstrand, Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Coffee Time Romance and more.

#SAMPLESUNDAY #SUNDAYSNOG World Without End, Amen

2011-10-28T12:41:00.000-04:00

"Acushla," he breathed into her hair. "Judith, woman, it's grand to see you again."

"Eamon, is it really you?" Despite the solid feel of his familiar body against her own, she couldn't believe he was here. "I heard you were dead."

"Don't believe all you hear," Eamon O'Hara told her. "I've come for you."

That had been her desire for so long, that he would come after her, alive after all, but he'd arrived too late.

"Eamon, I'm married now with two children," Judith said, as her heart broke again into a thousand sharp shards. "I can't go with you."

"You're my wife."

That basic truth was far from simple. She nodded, struck silent by the pain radiating from her heart out into the rest of her body.

"Do you love me?" he asked.

Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away, quick as if speed might conceal her emotion. Eamon shifted her position until their eyes met, his dancing black ones gazing into hers with powerful love. Then, before she could even think about stopping him, Eamon put his mouth to hers and she yielded, her body telling the truth her lips denied.

Her lips melted at his kiss, his hot mouth burning

against hers with long-repressed want. She kissed him back, letting her tongue stray between his parted lips. He kissed her deep, devouring her with his lips, his tongue penetrating her mouth until she ached for more. As Eamon ran his hands over her body, fingers straying beneath the well-faded, much-washed t-shirt she wore, Judith felt her senses awaken. His touch stirred her passion and she grew moist within. Her own hands went wild, stripping away the shirt he wore to indulge in touching his skin, the reality of his flesh beneath her fingertips erasing years of lonely hurt.

He backed her deeper into the living room, shutting the front door behind them with one well-aimed kick of his boot. Then, deft as ever, he removed her clothing so the t-shirt, jeans, bra, and panties lay in a crumpled heap on the carpet she'd vacuumed earlier. He shucked his own garments with haste. Eamon bent his head so he could kiss between her breasts, whispering love words in both Gaelic and English. His lips seared where they touched and her breath caught at the sensation. Her fingernails clawed his back and when he made small sounds of pleasure, sweet to her ears, she laughed like the girl she had been when last he made love to her.

Judith forgot her husband, let the idea of the children, a boy and girl in the ideal American family, fade to black and let Eamon consume her, body and soul. She

raked his skin and he suckled her nipples, one by one with slow, careful strokes that evoked such pleasure, she thought she might weep with it. Every cell, each atom of her body, felt the rising, tense tide that would come to shore with release. She ached for each stroke, each caress, and as he tongued her nipples into tight buds, she reached down to cup his cock in her hand.

That warm shaft hardened more at her touch and as she squeezed it gently, it lengthened, too. She adored the weight of it in her hand and as his tongue left her breasts to trail in a slow line down her belly, Judith stroked his cock until she feared he might come before they joined, so she changed tactics.

As he licked her belly just above her sweet spot, she moved forward to put her mouth around his nipples. Just as he had done, she sucked at them but she nibbled too, using just enough teeth to tantalize. His moan indicated she did it well and he liked it.

Her legs wobbled as her passion rose higher, burning like a fever within until her skin radiated heat, so sensitive each touch from his hands or mouth evoked such sensation she thought she might faint. She would have let him take her on the floor but instead, Eamon pulled her into his arms and lifted her, carrying her through the house to the den where he laid her on the old sofa there. Delicious

tingles traveled her spine and shivered through her as Judith anticipated the release coming.

"Do you want me?" Eamon asked in a brogue so sweet she wished she could taste it. "It's forever, acushla, if you'll have me."

Now available at Silver Publishing.com

Sunday Snog: A Taste and Kiss From "Salem" in MIDNIGHT SEDUCTION

2011-10-23T07:12:00.000-04:00

Our Midnight Seduction anthology from Evernight Publishing is selling everywhere, all the usual sites to buy romance. My story "Salem" is the last in the collection but I can say with all honesty I read my advance PDF copy and couldn't stop. The other twelve authors write so well they drew me into their tales and I enjoyed each one very much. So, for today's Sunday Snog and #samplesunday all in one, here is a smoking hot excerpt from "Salem" from Midnight Seduction to share:

By then, Nat’s fire matched my own. He ripped my sweater down the front with two hands, the yarn unraveling, and I stepped out of my slacks, leaving them on the floor. We went at each other like two crazy people, removing undergarments so we grabbed skin, flesh to warm flesh.

I ran my hands over his solid body, touching the scars, letting my hands spread friction as I savored the feel of him. I reached between his legs, grasped his cock in my hand, and held it tight, squeezing and caressing with just the right amount of force. He liked it. I could tell that much from his moan of pleasure.

Nat caught his fingers in my long hair and pulled me to him. His mouth consumed me like a flash fire, burning hot and swift as he pushed my lips aside so that his tongue could enter my mouth. Tongue to tongue we shared a deeper kiss as his hands roamed over my body, kneading my breasts with the perfect touch but not enough to cause pain. He brought his fiery lips down my throat to kiss me at the base in that delicate spot, and it evoked such a rush of desire that I caught his shoulders with both hands.

Balanced there, I wrapped my legs around his waist so that he had to take my weight, to hold me, and he did, without complaint and with grace that wasn’t lost despite the heat of our coupling. I don’t know how he did it, but he entered me, stabbed me with his proud, erect dick, and penetrated into the very heart of my womanhood. I felt his shaft as it caressed with pleasure deep inside, and I twisted against him to drive him deeper.

If he felt even half of what I did, then he was having the sensual ride of his life. Such a complete and total moment of sex it made anything else I’d ever experienced seem like nothing, a mere handshake.

It consumed me, burned me up, and reduced me to a pile of quivering ashes that held warmth even afterward.

We climbed toward the sun, reached for the stars, struggled to hit that single moment of pure paradise together, bodies smacking against one another, the sound of our joining thick and full. I could hear the noise he made as he came and went within, working me like a needle in the hands of a skilled seamstress as he brought me closer and ever closer to bursting.

When it came, it rocked us both with power and pleasure that threatened to explode me, to take me into death and leave me there. Boneless, spineless, my flesh reduced to jelly, I quivered and came, taking him into my body where he spewed his cum into me. I was home base, he was the runner who’d made the homerun. He was the master who bent me to his will, used me as he wished. And I loved every wicked, wanton moment of it.

We reached orgasm, and it rocked us both, swayed us like we were hit by storm force winds. We toppled like an uprooted tree, too weak, too expended to keep upright, so we fell to the carpet and lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms.

This was, I knew now, where I belonged. No matter where he had been, what he might have done, or why he came to me now, Nat was my love, my soul, and my all.

Wicked, Wanton Halloween Fun - Midnight Seduction debuts today!

2011-10-21T06:15:00.001-04:00

The day is here! Midnight Seduction, the long awaited Halloween anthology from Evernight Publishing and thirteen talented authors debuts today. Thirteen stories are part of this amazing collection of seasonal tales.

Here's the blurb:

No matter what your fantasy, these sinfully naughty tales are certain to keep you reading late into the night...

Midnight Seduction is an exclusive collection of erotically charged stories by thirteen talented authors. From dark angels and vampires, to ghosts and kelpies, this anthology is sure to please paranormal romance lovers everywhere. Fulfill your wanton desires and escape into a world where anything is possible.

Meet the Midnight Seduction authors...

Alexandra O'Hurley is the best selling author of Being Improper and Night of the Dragon. Her other works include The Lottery and the Evernight anthology, Master of Mine. Alex loves to 'ride roller coasters with her sixteen year old kiddo, eat sushi, watch lightning storms, ski and dance to obnoxiously loud rock and roll with a beer bottle in her hand'.

Not content with featuring in Midnight Seduction, Luxie Ryder also features in Midnight Seduction, Manlove Edition. Her other works include, Dance Like Nobody's Watching, Sacrifice and Soul Bound. Luxie is a 'Bookwenches Keeper' and a 'Two Lips recommended read'. She lives in the South West of England.

Emma Shortt is the best selling author of Paying her Debt and Getting her Greek. Her other works include, The Kiss, The Valentine's Fae and the Evernight anthology 'Twas a Dark and Delicious Christmas. When not writing romance Emma likes to get her geek on, watching Star Trek and reading nerd words. Like Luxie she lives in the South West of England.

With the distinction of writing Evernight's first f/f romance (and then achieving the coveted ARE best seller star) Kelly Yeakle knows good romance. Her other work with Evernight, Timeless, was a Night Owl Reviews 'top pick'. Kelly is a mom of three and spends her time 'working in Hallmark, dancing around the house and doing silly things with her silly children'.

Carolyn Rosewood is the author of the highly acclaimed Seduced by a Demon Series. The first two books, The Last Soul and Hunted have been consistently rated five stars. The final book in the series, Playing for Keeps will no doubt follow this trend. Carolyn is married to her real life hero, has a grown up daughter and a cat called Shadow, and is a Romance Reviews 'top pick'.

Midnight Seduction is Pepper Anthony's third feature in an Evernight anthology. She also features in Master of Mine and Indecent Encounters. Her other titles include Naked Treats. A firm believer in the Law of Attraction, Pepper likes to remind her friends, 'we create in our lives that which we focus most upon, so fill your head with positive thoughts.'

When D. F. Krieger was banned from writing contests at her school, she immediately set it in her head that she would become a professional writer. Since then, she has thrown away her plans of world domination through books, but she still enjoys writing. As well as featuring in Midnight Seduction, D.F is also the author of the highly rated, Evernight sci-fi romance, Sail My Oceans.

Fionn Jameson is an avid reader of anything that makes her go "Ew" and has watched most of the zombie movies in existence. Her Evernight titles include Blood Wish and the eagerly anticipated Wake the Demon.

London St James writes erotic romance, from sweet to downright naughty. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America and Passionate Ink. She currently resides in Colorado with her dogs, her books, her writing and her imagination. Her Evernight titles include Master of Mine and the highly acclaimed, Enchanted.

Like Luxie, Kastil Eavenshade features in both Midnight Seduction editions. When not slaving to the whims of the corporate world Kastil spends her time escaping into the world of books.

Anna Keraleigh is the author of the highly acclaimed fairy fantasy series, including the books Fairy Flavor and The Ravaged Fairy. Like Luxie and Kastil, Anna features in both Midnight Seduction anthologies. When not writing Anna falls in love with her creations and puts her mind to creating more, for both you and she to share.

Lila Shaw is the pen name of a writer who dips her toes into lots of different genres, joining the Midnight Seduction crew for a spot of erotic romance. Lila lives in the Pacific North West with her husband and two sons.

Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy is the author of the highly acclaimed Love Covenant series which includes the books, Love Tattoo, Love Knots and Love Scars. Her other Evernight titles include Wolfe's Lady and Lee Ann is a Night Owl Reviews 'top pick'. When not writing Lee Ann spends time with her husband, three children and dog.

To win a copy of Midnight Seduction, featuring works from all these fab authors, and/or a £15 Evernight Publishing gift certificate simply follow this blog and leave a comment. In your comment tell us your favorite type of paranormal hero and why. Once you've done that why not hop to the other blogs in the list below. The more entries the more chance you have of winning!

My story - Salem - is at the end of the book - the best as last! Here's a little taste from my tale to get you intrigued:

I liked him, and his energy, masculine and passionate, drew me in like a snare. But I figured after the meal it would be time to ditch him and go home so I could think. That might have worked, if he hadn’t kissed me as soon as we stepped outside the restaurant. In the parking lot, where a few stray snowflakes swirled down from the sky, Nat made like a gentleman and walked me to the passenger side of the car. I skidded over a slick spot and would’ve fallen on my bottom, but he caught me. And once I was in his arms, I melted, warm despite the frigid wind.

Nat locked his arms about me, and after he looked into my eyes for a very long moment, he kissed me. His lips claimed mine, wrote his name across them, and brought them home to keep. His mouth cherished mine, lips sliding down to kiss my neck, tickling and nibbling as he went. Everything inside me went into high alert mode. My nipples hardened, my vagina became wet, and I surged against him, eager for more. He knew all the buttons to push, did the things that I like most, and he had me so titillated that he could have taken me there, beneath the vapor lights, spread across the hood of his Mercedes if he’d wanted.

I didn’t have the will power to stop him.

I wouldn’t have tried.

He unbuttoned my coat and ran his icy hands beneath my sweater, his fingers cold against my warmer flesh. Although I shivered, it felt so erotic that I think I whimpered because I wanted more so very much. Nat slipped one hand, a little warmer now but not much, down the front of my slacks and fingered me, those slender digits reaching into my warm, waiting woman spot until I writhed against them with no shame.

Then he stopped.

I almost fell down, staggered against him, and he supported me with his arms.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, breathless and unsatisfied.

Nat smiled. “I did what you like, my love. Don’t deny it. I saw it in your face and felt it in the way your body responded to me. You’ll have what you want, what we both desire, but not here. I’m far too old now, and it’s much too cold to have my way with you here."

Now - and here's the fun part - every author is giving away a PDF copy of the anthology! Just leave your name in my comments for your chance to win mine and then hop on over to the other author's sites to increase your chances to win!

SUNDAY SNOG - #SAMPLE SUNDAY from "A Time To Love"

2011-10-15T15:40:00.000-04:00

This week's sample complete with that snog (kiss) are from my just released Time Travel Romance, "A Time To Love" (Champagne Books)

A Time To Love

October 2011

ISBN # 9781926996561

Champagne Books

Time Travel romance

180 pages

73,500 words

$5.99 eBook format

Blurb:

Reclusive songwriter Samuel Baird lives on a remote Arkansas mountain in the Ouachita forest where he’s drinking his life away. The last thing he wants is a woman to complicate things but during a spectacular thunderstorm a woman arrives just in time to save his life. Annie says she’s from the late 1800’s and Samuel thinks she’s crazy. Even so, Annie manages to gain his attention and affection. In time she convinces him she did travel through time. To reach a happily ever after, Samuel and Annie must overcome several obstacles both past and present. Annie must reveal the secret she’s keeping and it’ll take a trip home to meet his family in Nashville to work out all the issues. The couple shares joy, tragedy, and family ties along the way.

Excerpt:

Still as a statue, Annie stood with unbound hair, her dress vivid against the green shades of the forest. With a bouquet of brown-eyed susans, purple coneflowers, and wild daisies in one hand, she reminded him of an Impressionist painting. Although the wind ruffled her long locks, she remained in place but he thought she was aware of his presence.

“What in the world are you doin’?” He ambled over and fired the question in a tone more curious than unkind. He halted when he heard the buzz of an agitated rattlesnake. Slow dread inched from his brain to clutch his heart. Despite the many serpents he had killed in his Eden, he feared the unseen ones the most. Those could strike without warning and find their mark before he could locate their position.

By the sound, so like maracas, the hidden reptile was near Annie. She stood motionless but her eyes cut to her feet and his hand contracted. His grip cracked the glass before it fell to shatter on the porch floor.

“Jesus God.” His whisper was a dry sound inaudible above the wind as he realized the serpent lay in front of her. A frenzied notion to grab the cotton hoe and attack warred with a desire to fetch the shotgun. He did neither because even a small motion might trigger a defensive reflex from the creature.

Time ceased and his senses heightened, sharpened with dreadful anticipation. He felt his nostrils flare with frustration because the situation was beyond his control. Chance would furnish the outcome. His breath ceased when Annie stirred, tossing her hair off her shoulders and turned in a graceful motion.

“God, Annie, don’t move.” He forced the words out with effort.

“He’s gone away.” The straight line of her lips formed an inverted arch as she smiled and made her way through the dense undergrowth.

“God damn it, Annie!” Discharged anxiety converted his worry into anger. “You almost got snake bit. What in hell’s name are you doin’ in the weeds anyway? I warned you about the rattlers.”

Her lips flattened as the smile disappeared.

“I reckon I know more than you do about the snakes! I was raised on this mountain! My brother Daniel got a snakebite five years ago and near died. I brought him through and he lived.”

Her proper diction and language yielded to simpler speech for the first time since her arrival, something he marked with fascination despite his turbulent emotions. If she could revert to her raising so could he.

“I was scared.” He spoke the unadorned truth like a challenge and faced her, so close that he could see the pulse beat in her temple.

One finger reached out and moved down the center of his forehead with gentleness.

“You’ve a worry line. You mustn’t fret so, Samuel.”

Heat from her finger sparked a fire that raced through his blood. Awareness of her sex heightened the sensitivity of his skin, which prickled. He shivered as if from fever and saw her eyes darken with the same force. Raw cognizance of their gender filled the moment and stretched between them, pregnant with potential. The old power locked them in place until a blue jay squawked from the top of a nearby pine and broke the spell.

“I brought you something from town,” Samuel said, his voice thick in his mouth like a stranger’s. He felt heat from the blush that brought color to his face as he led her to the cabin with the awkward gait of an unbroken colt.

Unexpected shyness closed his throat when he handed her his purchases. Too late, he discerned that she might read something more than he intended in his gesture but he could not take away the clothing. The way her long fingers touched the soft fabrics fueled the fire within and he poured a drink into a plastic tumbler.

“You’re most kind.” The inflections of a Victorian lady or the echoes of a romance novel returned to her voice. She must really believe she lived in the 1890s. Both his benevolence and confidence had been restored by the liquor.

He laughed and before he could answer, she bent and kissed him, her lips light and teasing on his mouth. The innocent caress flared the flickering flame into a blaze. He jerked backward, away from temptation.

“Annie, you shouldn’t do that.”

Her laughter oozed into his ears like warm honey over biscuits.

“Why not?”

“Most guys might get the wrong idea about you.” His tongue wet his lips as he spoke in an effort to banish the images that overflowed his mind and weakened his flesh.

“Did you?”

“No, I didn’t.” The words tumbled out, too fast, making them more confession than denial.

He clenched his teeth with a frenzied effort to avoid ripping the dress from her body and unleashing his lust. His suspicion that Annie understood very well his response to her flirtatious manner was confirmed when she laughed again, giggling with sweet, rich, appeal.

“I’ve no one else to kiss.”

Buy and contact links:

Available at

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-atimetolove-608373-141.html#.ToujvkBI9kw.facebook

http://champagnebooks.com/shop/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=511

Coming soon to Amazon.com and other retailers

Find me at

http://www.amazon.com/Lee-Ann-Sontheimer-Murphy/e/B004JPBM6I/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_6?qid=1317812248&sr=8-6

A Page In The Life

http://leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogspot.com

http://leeannsontheimermurphy.blogspot.com

Five star review here:

http://manicreaders.com/index.cfm?disp=bookDetail&bookid=17325

2011-10-09T07:46:00.000-04:00

“Good. Do you want to go in and retire for the night?”

Deborah shook her head. “I’m too nervous to sleep.”

Cam slowed the swing and stopped it.

“Let’s take a walk, then.”

She started to protest, to say no, that it was too dark but then she noticed that a full moon commanded the sky and silver light drifted down to bathe everything with soft radiance. Beneath the old trees in the front yard, shadows were puddles of darkness but everywhere else, the magical illumination made the farm breathtaking.

“I’d like that,” she said, accepting Cam’s hand as he led her down from the porch into the new spring grass where the earth felt soft beneath her feet. She let the night wrap about her like a cloak, allowed the faery magic of the moon to lift her spirits. Holding hands, they walked across the yard to the long drive and down toward the road. Dwarfed by the moon’s brilliance, a thousand stars sparkled in the night sky although to the west, a dark mass of clouds portended approaching storms.

As she stared into the face of the moon, she could almost believe there was a Man in the Moon. This was an enchanted evening, she mused, if she'd ever known one and although she felt cool, she didn’t want to go inside. At the moment, all she wanted was to be with Cam and to be one with the night, to watch the moon move across the sky until the sun rose again.

When they stopped, she turned toward him. Cam pulled her into the circle of his arms and then he kissed her, his lips captivating hers. In the slight chill of the night, his mouth offered warmth, heat, and succor. She raised her lips to his like a rose seeking water or sunlight. In that kiss, he asked and she answered, hearkened to his wordless communication. Cam kissed her as a few clouds drifted across the face of the moon, making shadows move across them.

Deborah wasn’t cold any long, her body shimmered with heat from his, fired by his kiss. As she held onto him, his hands caressed her and when he took his mouth from hers, he whispered sweet words she almost couldn’t hear for the rising passion that made her blood flow faster. A dull roar like that of a seashell filled the space between her ears and she could think of nothing but Cam and his insistent mouth on hers

#SAMPLE SUNDAY - new release "A Time To Love"

2011-10-08T16:33:00.000-04:00

A Time To Love Master Sheet

October 2011

ISBN # 9781926996561

Champagne Books

Time Travel romance

180 pages

73,500 words

$5.99 eBook format

#SAMPLE:

Her feet were at the edge of the sheer drop to the thick vegetation below and when she moved, she lost her balance and teetered. She struggled to gain solid footing but failed, going to her knees in an effort to keep from falling. Her hands flailed out with panic.

He grasped her beneath each arm and stayed her. She clung to him and he jerked her away from the brink. Without time to analyze his actions or emotions, he acted on instinct and gathered her to him. She trembled in his arms and he tightened his hold to reassure her.

“It’s all right now.” He made the phrase a mantra by repeating it three times. Her breath slowed as she stopped shaking. With the danger past, he felt an intense awareness of her body against his. Every pliable curve was a fit against his frame. He knew the cadence of her heartbeat and smelled the fragrance of her hair. His body quickened as she moved against him, verification that she felt it too, and the strange pull that could make strangers into lovers.

Annie put her mouth to his. He could not move for one long moment as he felt her warm, sweet mouth moving over his and he kissed her back. The act restored something that had been dormant within and he was the old Samuel, healed and unharmed. He was free of the dark animal lust that once carried him to strange beds, a man reborn and made whole.

No embrace had been so intimate since the early years of his marriage and his senses marked each nuance, each sweet facet of the kiss. His loins engorged and his soul ached to fill its hungering need. Before he lost his ability to stop, he checked himself. He took his lips from her mouth and pulled away, leaving her to stare at him with haunting pain.

“I can’t do this.” He choked out the sentence with anguish and shame. No words existed to explain to this woman that he did not dare risk his heart again. He could not tell her that he was a coward. That would require courage, which he lacked and so he withdrew.

“Let’s go.” When she didn’t move, he stalked past her. He waited until she was seated and pulled out, driving too fast on the twisting road. He did not speak and neither did she. Full dark had fallen by the time he parked the truck but he did not wait to walk her into the cabin. By the time she came in, he had downed his first glass of straight bourbon and poured a second. He gulped it, daring her to react but she ignored him.

Instead, she put away clean clothes and tidied the few dishes left in the sink. Although his eyes followed her, Samuel could not speak. His lips still tingled with the feel of her mouth on his and he drank with grim purpose to eradicate it without success. His mind raced in rapid circles as he struggled to understand his emotions. He felt caught, trapped by his history, and hopeless. All of it was more than he could face and he drank far into the night.

Available at

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-atimetolove-608373-141.html#.ToujvkBI9kw.facebook

http://champagnebooks.com/shop/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=511

Available at Amazon.com, Amazon.comUK, Amazon.com DE

Find me at

http://www.amazon.com/Lee-Ann-Sontheimer-Murphy/e/B004JPBM6I/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_6?qid=1317812248&sr=8-6

A Page In The Life

http://leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogspot.com

http://leeannsontheimermurphy.blogspot.com

http://leeannwriter.weebly.com

Five star review here:

http://manicreaders.com/index.cfm?disp=bookDetail&bookid=17325

Tuesday Tales: Urban Renewal

2011-10-03T19:05:00.000-04:00

It's Tuesday again, time for Tuesday Tales. Since I have a guest on the other blog, this week I'm posting my tale on my other blog.

Be sure to visit the main Tuesday Tales Blog and read all the other stories by talented authors!

www.tuesdaytales1.blogspot.com

Urban Renewal
A short story by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Outside her hotel window, the Gateway Arch loomed tall and mysterious, like a strange artifact from another civilization. Mercedes Montague lay in bed and when she could force her weary eyes open, stared at it, mesmerized by its proximity. Her world class headache threatened to split her skull open, scattering odd bits of brain across the luxurious suite and if that failed to happen, she knew that her stomach, rolling and churning as much as the mighty Mississippi River a few blocks distant, would rebel and spew its contents over the fine carpets, leaving them stained. It had happened before, in other hotels in different cities but no one complained, not as long as her people left large sums of money to cover clean up operations and to keep the pictures out of the tabloids.

Her crimson Atelier Versace gown laid where she shed it; sheer fabric cut origami style discarded like a snake leaving off one skin for another. Beside it, the silk panties she’d worn lay like yesterday’s trash. Beneath the satin sheets, her naked skin ached as if she burned with fever but she knew she suffered from nothing more than overindulgence and fatigue. Her mouth tasted foul, like last week’s leftovers after too many cigarettes and far more alcohol than anyone should imbibe. Hung over and heartsick, Mercedes gazed at nothing and wondered how she ever reached this place, this foreign country of five star hotels and red carpets and paparazzi tracking her like autumn game. All she ever wanted was financial security, to see her name on screen credits, and enough fame to wield power. Her pretty smile opened more doors than she anticipated and her nubile body of two decades past unlocked even more.

If she struggled, she could remember that young woman, a girl really, who left home on a Greyhound bus with a suitcase full of cheap, knock off clothing from The Paris and Einbender’s, thinking it was enough to conquer the world. Her resume of high school starring roles and College Theater roles at the state college were be her calling card, her entry into the wider world of Hollywood and the silver screen. On that bus trip, a three-day long hell, she dreamed of her footprints at the Chinese Theater and dining with the famous. Instead, she arrived in Hollywood with ptomaine from a hamburger eaten at a bus station in Kansas, doubled over with stomach cramps and with just enough money to rent a terrible, filthy room a few blocks from Hollywood Boulevard.

It had not been an auspicious start but after weeks of trailing up and down that famous street, mingling with the prostitutes and the tourists, she met a man who said he worked at a studio. They ended up in bed and because he thought she was a virgin – which she was not – he felt, sorry enough afterward that he sent her over to Universal to get an extra role in a movie. If she had not been the same size as Therese Simone, the star, it would have been a dead end, not a beginning. She was, though, and that brought her into the limelight because when Ms. Simone overdosed on the heavy-duty barbiturates she adored, the movie would have scrapped if the director had not suggested that the producer allow her, little Marie Dillard, to screen test for the role. The camera loved her, flattered her best features, and minimized her flaws. At the age of nineteen, Marie got the part and when asked to change her name to something more glamorous than her birth name provided, she came up with Mercedes Montague, for her favorite car, a make she aspired to own, and for Romeo’s family. That was for luck; her first stage triumph had been as Juliet in a high school production of the Shakespearean tragedy.

Mercedes Montague went from living in a cockroach-filled room in seedy Hollywood to gracing the cover of Vogue and appearing on The Tonight Show. That first, heady period was as intoxicating as wine, something she had never even tasted before leaving home. In a matter of months, she transformed from a Missouri city girl from a blue-collar neighborhood that less kind people might call a ghetto into a world famous celebrity. Somewhere along the way, she lost Marie and it took her years to figure out what Mercedes was.

When she did, she did not like her but she thought it must be too late to change.

Lying in the shadow of the Gateway Arch, she realized how very much she hated Mercedes. She no longer could bear to look at her in mirrors, loathing that faux face created by cosmetics and fluff, when she knew her own did not look anything like the reflection. The real Mercedes – Marie – favored her late grandmother as she aged but the version that the public saw looked more like a mannequin than it did Granny.

I am nothing, she thought, lying there sick and loathe to move. There is no me left. She had no control over her life, where she went, or what she did. Her agent, her personal assistant, and her companion, all told her when, where, and how. Most of the time they told her what to wear and her companion, a bland, non-politically offensive name for what was once a ladies maid, picked her clothing. Suse did her hair, her nails, and her make-up. Even what shade lipstick brightened her mouth was someone else’s pick.

If the Gateway Arch, quintessential symbol of the St. Louis skyline, had not loomed outside the hotel window, Mercedes would have been uncertain where she awakened. Waking in an unknown city happened more often than she cared to admit and most major cities looked shockingly the same, skyscrapers, a major league stadium, maybe a river, an old district, a train station from the glorious past, and new office buildings. Throw in a dozen or so shopping malls, freeways, and voila – an American urban scene of the early 21^st century. Hotels were interchangeable, too.

A luxury suite or even a penthouse in five star hotels had enough similarities that she could seldom distinguish one from another. Such an honest opinion would make interior designers on three continents weep with shame but she cared little if the drapes were peach, puce, or chartreuse or if the table lamps were Empire or Grecian. Even the food that she ate, no matter what top rated chef prepared it, had sameness. No matter how she lusted after fiery tamales from a street vendor’s cart or fried chicken the way her grandmother used to cook it, she had haute cuisine, steaks, broiled lobster, mahi-mahi, and dishes that were more art than food. Sometimes she wanted to shout until someone brought her a big old cheeseburger, run through the garden, and dripping grease back onto the plate with a side of crisp fries or onion rings. When she longed for old-fashioned homemade beef and vegetable soup, she ate vichyssoise and tried not to gag as she spooned down the cold, thick mass.

I want to go home. That thought struck her hard, like a rock thrown with force through a window and shattered what self-composure that remained. If she could, if she but possessed the magic ruby slippers, she would rise and tap her heels together thrice so that she, like Dorothy Gale, could return to her home, back to her origins. If she could begin again, armed with the knowledge she now possessed, she might make a better life of it. However, she was almost forty, not nineteen and the girl brimming with hopes who left to make her way was no more, leaving the shell of a woman that the fans knew better than she did herself.

If Marie wanted to live, then Mercedes had to die.

Marie gasped aloud and sat up in bed, heedless of her pounding head and aching stomach. She didn’t need ruby slippers or magic, just the gutsy courage that took her out of the neighborhood twenty years earlier and some determination. The answer to her unasked question, the solution for her yearnings was simple and so obvious she could not understand why it had not occurred to her before; she would go home.

Like anyone blue collar raised, she understood having a rat hole, a place to dive in times of trouble or as a last resort. She owned the house where her grandmother raised her and her brother, Stan. Each month, a separate accountant paid the utilities so that everything was always on and the house ready for her arrival. In the last dozen years, she had been there just twice, for brief respites when her fan base thought she was in Monaco or Jakarta. That house was her one secret, the place that few of her own staff knew about and she was just a few hours away. If she pulled herself out of bed, she could be there by suppertime and she could stay until she knew if Marie remained deep within or if she had to create someone new that she could live with for the rest of her life.

The first step was to crawl out of bed and plunge her aching body with all its hurts under a hot shower, washing away last night’s cosmetics and easing some of her pain. Marie scrubbed her skin with furious intent as if she could wash away all the bad, leach it out of her skin and purge it from her soul. Afterward, she combed out her long hair and dried it with the hotel hair dryer, combing it out and then, for the first time since her teens, braided it. That was practical, maybe not so pretty but she did not care this morning.

Her many suitcases yielded little casual wear and nothing without designer labels so she rejected it all. None of it was suitable for where she was heading. The single pair of blue jeans in her luggage were Levi Capitol E jeans, inappropriate and out of place anywhere in Missouri. Marie tossed out the contents of all her suitcases and garment bags, pilfering through it to find something she could wear. She discarded the Gucci silver fox cape, the Prada shoes, the Versace turtleneck sweater with one sleeve, the Valentino alpaca tunic sweater, the cashmere blouses, the silk dresses and shirts, the Chanel, the Dior, and the Hermes silk scarves.

In the end, colorful clothing littered the carpet like an autumn forest floor covered in leaves. All she kept, stuffed into a single carry-on bag, were one Oscar De La Renta satin antique lace long nightgown because no one would see what she wore to bed, a Gucchi Jersey sheath dress; a classic little black dress just in case she wanted to go formal, and one silk scarf.

She had nothing to wear back to the old neighborhood, she thought. Nothing in the hotel boutique would be any less pretentious or expensive. If she asked, the bell desk would send out to any shop she wanted for clothing but it would be the same story. Racking her fuzzy brain, she remembered seeing hotel domestics in uniforms and Marie wondered if they wore them to work or if they changed.

With the imperious air that Mercedes had trademarked, she phoned down to the concierge and asked that someone come up to, her suite to clean up what she called “a slight mess.”

“I must have someone immediately,” she drawled in her movie-star tones, the ones she had long cultivated and now loathed.

“Yes, Miss Montague. We will send someone up immediately.”

With the air of a grand duchess, she thanked them and congratulated herself from asking them to send someone who wore her size. Two minutes later, someone tapped at the door and she opened it to find two domestic staff members, wide-eyed with excitement.

“Come on in,” she said, in her own voice. “What size are you?”

They told her and she whooped aloud because their clothing would fit.

“Girls, this is your lucky day if you have everyday clothes you wore to work. Please tell me that you changed into those awful uniforms here.”

“We did.” The young woman who answered her wore a nametag that read Luz. “We have a locker room downstairs.”

“Good.” Marie waved an arm at the scattered clothing. “If you can bring me some jeans and a t-shirt or two, you can have anything you want from my wardrobe.”

Luz’s eyes widened and her companion, Stefani’s did too.

Thirty minutes later, after a large dose of aspirin and a cold Coca-Cola, Marie dressed in faded blue jeans and a Twilight t-shirt that featured both Edward and Bella’s faces. Her carry-on bag bulged with another pair of jeans and a button down cotton blouse, her lingerie, and a few toiletries. Converse athletic shoes fit her feet and if the socks came from Rodeo Drive, no one would notice. The two young women, arms laden with multiple designer garments, departed with speed and she sat down, feeling both familiar and yet odd in the casual clothing.

Her emergency stash of money, another hold out from her poverty days, lurked in an invisible pocket in her cosmetics bag and she removed it, counting the crisp bills. She had ten thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills, more than enough to make it across the state and live for a while, at home. Now that she possessed the wardrobe for the part, Marie needed transportation.

She considered riding the Greyhound bus but she didn’t like the idea. That option would strand her at the bus station blocks from the house. With her carryon bag over one arm, her money stashed inside except for a few hundred bucks, and a pair of sunglasses, Marie marched out of the suite and descended. In the lobby, she attracted no attention. No one recognized her and not a single person approached for an autograph. She heard no gushing about her movies and she emerged into the bright sunlight of a St. Louis morning, thick with smog and city stench, free.

What she needed now were wheels and cheap ones so she caught a city bus out to a busy thoroughfare on the edge of a neighborhood going sour. With the page ripped from the yellow pages, she found Buy Cheap, Get Cheap Used Cars, a very small operation tucked behind a old house. In her current outfit, talking like Marie Dillard and not Mercedes Montague, she haggled a deal and drove away in a well-worn 1981 Buick Skylark. The seats showed wear, the windshield had a small crack in one corner and the body was rough but the engine ran fine and the tires were good. If it could get her across I-70 today, it was worth the couple of thousand dollars cash she plunked down to the dealer. He signed the title and tossed her the keys.

She seldom drove any longer and when she did, it was on Highway 101 or up in the mountains. Within minutes of pulling out and navigating her way across The Lou, Marie knew terror for the first time in years. In her controlled world, she had nothing to be afraid of but the fast traffic and the cars jumping lanes frightened her. Her grip on the wheel was so tight that her knuckles went white and when she could, she pulled into a McDonald’s parking lot for a moment of respite.

From here, all she had to do was drive across the state home so she could detox, think, and undergo such much needed urban renewal.

#SAMPLESUNDAY: Sneak Peek at Witness Protection Program

2011-10-01T15:45:00.000-04:00

The day is almost here - the long awaited release date for my newest novel, Witness Protection Program from Rebel Ink Press. I enjoyed writing this story so much and I hope readers will enjoy it just as much!

Here's the deets and an excerpt - it will be out tomorrow, October 3, Monday at Amazon.com, All Romance E-books, Coffee Time Romance, and more!!

Witness Protection Program
Contemporary romantic suspense
Release Date: 10/3/2011
Rebel Ink Press
Author: Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Blurb:

· When a routine trip to the local discount store turns in to a gunfight,
Kendra Driscoll must face the fact that her witness protection cover is
blown and she's in federal custody until further arrangements can be made.
Tucked away in a safe house in southern Arkansas, Kendra reverts to being
Deborah Kincaid, for now.

When Timothy Campbell dodges bullets and throws Kendra Driscoll into his
van, he knows better than to mix business with pleasure. Witnesses are
off limits. Period. So why is it then that Cam finds himself impossibly
drawn to the woman he's charged to protect?

As Kendra gets to know Cam, she realizes he isn't as unyielding as he looks.
Underneath his gruff exterior, Deborah finds a kind, sensitive man and
soon, she realizes she's falling in love. And when events turn ugly and
Cam suffers a life-threatening injury, it's up to Deborah to face her
enemies and deal with the danger for the last time.

o “I’ll try not to be afraid.”

o “Good. Do you want to go in and retire for the night?”

o Deborah shook her head. “I’m too nervous to sleep.”

o Cam slowed the swing and stopped it.

o “Let’s take a walk, then.”

o She started to protest, to say no, that it was too dark but then she noticed that a full moon commanded the sky and silver light drifted down to bathe everything with soft radiance. Beneath the old trees in the front yard, shadows were puddles of darkness but everywhere else, the magical illumination made the farm breathtaking.

o “I’d like that,” she said, accepting Cam’s hand as he led her down from the porch into the new spring grass where the earth felt soft beneath her feet. She let the night wrap about her like a cloak, allowed the faery magic of the moon to lift her spirits. Holding hands, they walked across the yard to the long drive and down toward the road. Dwarfed by the moon’s brilliance, a thousand stars sparkled in the night sky although to the west, a dark mass of clouds portended approaching storms.

o As she stared into the face of the moon, she could almost believe there was a Man in the Moon. This was an enchanted evening, she mused, if she'd ever known one and although she felt cool, she didn’t want to go inside. At the moment, all she wanted was to be with Cam and to be one with the night, to watch the moon move across the sky until the sun rose again.

o When they stopped, she turned toward him. Cam pulled her into the circle of his arms and then he kissed her, his lips captivating hers. In the slight chill of the night, his mouth offered warmth, heat, and succor. She raised her lips to his like a rose seeking water or sunlight. In that kiss, he asked and she answered, hearkened to his wordless communication. Cam kissed her as a few clouds drifted across the face of the moon, making shadows move across them.

o Deborah wasn’t cold any long, her body shimmered with heat from his, fired by his kiss. As she held onto him, his hands caressed her and when he took his mouth from hers, he whispered sweet words she almost couldn’t hear for the rising passion that made her blood flow faster. A dull roar like that of a seashell filled the space between her ears and she could think of nothing but Cam and his insistent mouth on hers.

o The silver moonlight faded as low clouds moved across the sky with speed, covering the face of the moon. As the temperature shifted lower, the wind rose in advance of storms moving from the west and although Deborah noticed, she didn’t care. Cam mattered but nothing more.

Sunday Snog - sneak peak and a snog from Witness Protection Program coming soon from Rebel Ink Press!

2011-09-24T20:25:00.000-04:00

Sneak peak from Witness Protection Program coming October 3 from Rebel Ink Press - with a snog (kiss) and more:

To pass the time while the clothes washed and while she waited for the dryer, which was spinning the Putnam’s laundry, she asked if she could play the piano again. When she sat down at the keys, Deborah sought escape. Today she had no desire to sing, just to play so her fingers rippled across the keys like the wind over water. She played a few classic pieces from memory beginning with The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies by Tchaikovsky and ending with Beethoven’s haunting Fur Elise. Then Deborah segued into modern favorites like Bridge over Troubled Waters, The Rose and the Beatles’ classic Let It Be. The music matched her mood and the rain that still fell outside. Just as she began to play the plaintive notes of Gilbert O’Sullivan’s song Alone Again (Naturally), Cam slid onto the piano bench beside her.

His big hands danced over the keys with skill and plucked out the brighter notes of Scott Joplin’s Maple Leaf Rag.

“You’ve created a sad mood. Now it’s time for something happier,” Cam mouthed into her ear. “Play it with me.”

Her fingers faltered, paused, then moved into the upbeat ragtime rhythms. They played the rag as a four-hand duet and after a few wrong notes, performed together well, ending with a burst of laughter they coughed up in unison.

“That’s better,” Cam said as he grinned with approval. “You play very well but your selections were depressing.”

“I didn’t know you played.”

He quirked one eyebrow up. “I imagine there are many things you don’t yet know about me.”

“I suppose not.” Although the songs she played were somber, her own mood was more reflective than dark. “I’m a fast learner, though.”

“Are you?” He turned toward her with interest as they sat side by side on the piano bench, alone in the living room. She wondered where his aunt and uncle might be but then she heard their distant voices from the kitchen.

“Most of the time, I am.”

“Let me see if that’s true today.”

Cam leaned forward spanning the inches between them and touched his lips to hers, light and soft. She savored the warmth of his mouth against hers and then he kissed her in earnest, his lips seeking an answer from hers, which she gave, heart fluttering. She liked the kiss and her right hand strayed out to snag the edge of his flannel jacket to steady her trembling. His mouth felt softer than she imagined and stirred her so much she swayed. If Cam hadn’t put his arm around her to keep her, she might have fallen to the floor.

When the sound of a siren wailed and echoed in the room, she startled until she remembered it was his ring tone. He pulled away and dug his phone out, his body now at attention, his face sober. Cam slid off the bench and paced the room, phone to his ear. He listened more than he spoke while she touched her fingertips to her mouth as if she could catch and somehow keep the lingering sensation of his kiss.

“I go up to Hickory on Wednesday,” Cam told her when he finished the call. “That works out so tomorrow I can go with Uncle Otis to the livestock sales up in Mena.”

Deborah caught the tossed name of a small town and placed it on a mental map. She possessed a fair knowledge of geography and “up in Mena” placed them in southwestern Arkansas. If Cam didn’t want her to know that, he never would’ve said it.

“You just all but told me where I’m at.”

He nodded. “I did. Maybe I shouldn’t have but after watching you cry last night, I thought maybe it would help you to know.”

It did and it didn’t but she was glad he gave her the information.

“Thank you, Cam.”

He shrugged his shoulders, face still serious. “I’m glad if it helps. You still seem so sad and I wish I could erase the sorrow out of your eyes. I’ll tell you one more thing and that’s it for now. It’s Fort Smith.”

LOVE NEVER FAILS

2011-09-17T20:06:00.001-04:00

Head over to the TBR Pile and vote - Love Never Fails is up for Book of the Month!

Vote here:

http://thetbrpile.weebly.com/

Excerpt Love Never Fails

Rebel Ink Press

Available as both an Ebook and paperback

Amazon.com, All Romances, and more.

Caroline was almost home and she was terrified.

“I’m here.”

At her touch, he turned and she felt the energy surge between them, electric as ever. Reid’s eyes, the deep navy blue she remembered so well, met hers and her anxiety melted.

“Caroline.”

His voice made her name an endearment.

They stared at each other as if they could bridge five years distance in a few moments and then he put his arm around her.

“You got here quick. I thought you might keep me waiting half the night.”

“You knew I'd come.”

“Yeah, I did.” It appeared he hadn't doubted her, even after the years of silence and separation and something deep within her stirred and rejoiced at that. Even now, it seemed he knew her well.

“Why did you have me come here, to the grotto?”

“Don’t you remember?” His voice was very soft.

“I do. This was our secret place, somewhere we came when we were troubled.”

Reid nodded. “We came here the day after my mom died.”

“Are you all right?” She needed to know.

She inhaled sharply, panicked at the idea of him having chest pains and then realized his heart trouble was romantic, not medical. Without analyzing it or planning what she'd say, she leaned forward.

“Maybe this will help it heal.”

She touched her lips to his, a very light kiss, her mouth barely touching his.

“It helps if it’s real,” Reid said, taking her face into his hands and kissing her with thoroughness that ignited fire in her veins. “Did you mean what you said on the phone?”

#SAMPLE SUNDAY - A Little More From Love Never Fails

2011-09-10T18:52:00.000-04:00

LOVE NEVER FAILS (contemporary romance)

Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Rebel Ink Press (May 29, 2011)

171 pages

Also available in paperback (232 pages)

Blurb:

Excerpt:

They'd dated since she was fifteen and talked about marriage for the last two years. At nineteen, almost twenty, Caroline was certain she wanted to share her life with Reid and he had no doubts, either. Money was the issue that concerned him and so they'd been saving together, in a joint savings account at the bank. Caroline had forgotten about that, until now.

“What happened to our money in the bank?”
He reached the table and did an about face, pacing back toward her.

            “It’s still there, all of it and more.   At first, I thought you'd come home so I kept putting money in the account.   Even after my accident, I wouldn’t touch our money so it’s still there.   I kept the ring, too.”
            In his agitation, he ran his fingers through his dark hair as she tried to puzzle out what he meant.              “Reid, I don’t know anything about an accident or ring.”
            He stopped before her and sighed.
            “I guess you wouldn’t but at the time I thought you would.   After you left, I went a little crazy. I didn’t care much about anything so I was reckless. Ross got onto me all the time about it.   He was the only one that tried to tell me there must be more behind your leaving than there seemed but I wouldn’t listen.   I was hurting too damn bad.   I drank too much, drove too fast, and did wild things.”
            Even though all of it was long past, her stomach contracted with fear for him and all he'd done.
            “What wild things?”
            He gave a bitter laugh. “I went swimming at night. I started drag racing anyone who would do it.   I went down to Tulsa to the roughest bars I could find.   I rode a little rodeo, always on the wildest bulls or broncos going.   I think I wanted something to happen to me that would either send you home or make you sorry that you left me.”
            “What happened?”
            Reid rubbed his face with his hand. “I wrecked the GTO one night out on the highway going about 90 miles an hour. I was going too fast, I'd had a couple of beers and I just lost control.   I ran off onto the side of the road and then into the ditch.   The car flipped over with me in it and I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt.   I couldn’t get out, though, and I was afraid the car would burn with me inside.   When the highway patrol came, they thought the occupant – which was me- must be dead because the car was crushed.”

“Oh, Reid, if I'd known, I would've been here. Nothing would have kept me away, not even Julia.”

            He snorted. “Yeah, that was what I thought. I was actually happy as they loaded me into the ambulance because I thought you'd come home. That didn’t last long. I was hurt pretty bad and when you didn’t come, I was miserable.”
            Caroline was crying, thinking of Reid hurt and so alone, waiting and watching for her just as she'd waited and watched for him.   She thought her heart would burst from the pain.
            “How serious were your injuries?”
            Reid rolled up the left leg of his blue jeans.
            “This leg was damaged so badly they put it back together with pins.” He touched round, white scars, counting them. “I had a hard time learning to walk without a limp but I did.   I had some internal injuries too.   I was critical for almost a week, serious for two and it was a month before I went home.   Ross was worried sick and mad at me, too. He said it was my own damn fault and I guess it was.”
            “Mine, too,” Caroline whispered. “Oh, Reid, mine too. It wouldn't have happened if I hadn’t left. I should've tried harder to tell you about the baby.   I'm so sorry.   No one told me, not ever. I wish someone had.

“Yeah?” His voice sounded so tired. “I wish they had, too, if it would've brought you back sooner. Come here, Caro.”

Reid opened his arms wide and she walked into them. He held her cocooned in his embrace and as she began to weep, he cried too. They stood together, meshed, and wept for all they'd lost. For the pain of the past and for the love that survived it all. They bawled like a pair of babies, venting all the frustrations and the hurts. The misunderstandings, the barriers that kept them apart vanished, washed away in the torrent of tears. Any obstacles to their full reunion evaporated away. The five years lost, those more than 1800 days and nights, were irretrievable, but from here, they could advance together. They had their whole lives ahead of them.

            Caroline could feel the love pouring into her from him and then he kissed her, his mouth claiming what belonged to him with force and pleasure.   Caroline responded, joy fueling her passion as she drank from his cup of ardor, head spinning as if she sipped pure alcohol.    His hands moved over her with remembered surety and new desire. She pushed her fingers through his black curls as she'd ached to do since the moment she saw him again and he moved his mouth lower, from her lips to her throat, where he nibbled.   Her spine tingled as desire teased down her back, the delicious sensation spreading as he reached beneath her blouse to unhook her bra.   She shrugged her shirt away and he put his face between her breasts, kissing them with tiny, tender kisses.
            Caroline sighed with pleasure, her head back, eyes closed. His hands reached her jeans and undid them.
            “Are you ready for this?” He asked, lifting his head to meet her eyes, every naked emotion he felt on his face.
            “Yes, I am.” She'd waited five years for this moment and her body ached for fulfillment.
            “Are you sure?” He teased.
            “I am, Reid.” Her hands sought his belt and undid it. “Love me, babe, please.”

He made love to her with slow hands, unhurried caresses that titillated and teased. Reid cherished her with his mouth, appreciated her body with his own, and gave himself to her, physical and spiritual. After he carried her into the bedroom, he held nothing back and loved her without restraint. His passion swept her into the floodtide and she rallied to meet his challenge, to accept his desire and channel it back. Together they spiraled toward culmination, circling closer to that moment of release and when it came, it rocked them both. They shuddered together as the bed rattled, hitting the wall with the force of their coming together, of reaching the summit together. Reid cried out with wordless joy and Caroline shouted her delight.

Afterward, warm and sated, she curled against him, fingers intertwined with his. Their bodies touched, skin to skin, and their minds were at peace, unified after the long separation. Caroline felt refreshed, as renewed as dry land when the rain fell to relieve the drought.
“I love you,” she whispered soft against his chest.
“I love you, too," he answered drowsily

Buy links:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1937265056/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_alp_9fibob1AE1KMD

http://www.amazon.com/Love-Never-Fails-ebook/dp/B0053CYRPO

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-never-fails-lee-ann-sontheimer-murphy/1031334544?ean=2940012876034&itm=4&usri=lee%2bann%2bsontheimer%2bmurphy

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-loveneverfails-550136-149.html