Last Chance at Love

LatChanceAtLove-150x225

When Alyson McLeod returns to Jove, she never expects her high school sweetheart to knock on her front door. Sam’s arrival stirs memories she thought she’d banished long ago and awakens a fiery need no other man has been able to conjure.

The phoenix tattoo on Sam Crown’s arm immortalizes the woman he loved—and lost—long ago. Alyson’s return should excite him, but instead, she awakens a guilt he’s not sure even love can overcome.

Can these star-crossed lovers finally find happiness or will a wicked matchmaker’s antics keep them apart forever?

Last Chance at Love

Review:
I just finished reading Last Chance at Love. I truly enjoyed it.
I loved that sexy cupid at the start,
the gorgeous art work Sam and Alyson made,
Tina’s growing understanding,
and the depth of the emotion as the story built to resolution.
A feel good factor of 10.

Daisy Banks
A Gentleman’s Folly

Last Chance at Love

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Last Chance at Love: Nominated

Hi all,

Last Chance at Love has been nominated for an award. AND you can participate in getting the wonderful sweet/peppery story to the top.

Here’s how:

http://www.theromancereviews.com/bookvote.php   Easy-Scroll down the page to near the bottom under PARANORMAL ROMANCE, Last Chance at Love click on nominate

LatChanceAtLove-squarebutton

Last Chance at Love has to garner at least 50 nominations within the time period in order to qualify for the next and final round. The nomination will start on March 14 and end on March 31. Invite your fans and reader community to nominate the book here: http://www.theromancereviews.com/bookvote.php

Last Chance at Love

THANK YOU!

When Alyson McLeod returns to Jove, she never expects her high school sweetheart to knock on her front door. Sam’s arrival stirs memories she thought she’d banished long ago and awakens a fiery need no other man has been able to conjure.

The phoenix tattoo on Sam Crown’s arm immortalizes the woman he loved—and lost—long ago. Alyson’s return should excite him, but instead, she awakens a guilt he’s not sure even love can overcome.

Can these star-crossed lovers finally find happiness or will a wicked matchmaker’s antics keep them apart forever?

BUY: http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/author/jjkeller.htm

LastChanceAtLove-newcpdesktop

EXCERPT:

Alyson swung her attention from her laptop to the handyman bent over the kitchen cabinet. Chris’ powerful, flawless arms enabled him to wield the screw gun like a pro, and durr, durr, durr added a pleasant melody to the room.

The maple cabinets had been an impulse purchase, but she rather liked how the lighter color made the space appear larger. A bonus to having her kitchen updated, Chris modeled the hero in her current book. His white T-shirt pulled taut across his broad shoulders as he stretched to secure a bolt from a toolbox a foot away.

Jeans sheathed his tight, perfectly formed rear. His thick thighs enabled Chris to lift heavy pieces of lumber while her hero’s enabled him to hold the heroine against the wall during a hot, sexy, clandestine encounter. Chris’ dark blond hair, styled in a buzz cut, accentuated his sharp cheekbones and granite jawline. Her hero had light brown hair that touched the tips of his ears. However, the cheekbones and stubborn jaw…the same.

In a lot of ways, Chris reminded her of Sam Crown, her boyfriend at Chilton Academy nearly thirty years ago. Sam had been the love of her life, the man who’d created a cancer in her heart no other man had been able to cure. Returning to her hometown had stirred memories of their ill-fated romance, and she’d embedded some of those details into her book. In doing so, in giving fictitious-Sam and fictitious-her a happy ending, maybe she could finally eradicate him from her thoughts.

She scooted her chair away from the dining table and evaluated the renovations. The noise and scenery inspired her. She wouldn’t leave the area despite the strong odors of glue and dust. She had to think of another job to keep her handyman on site after the current project ended on Friday. At least long enough for her to write twenty thousand more words. She hated the thought of her “hero” leaving before her book was finished.

The whirring of the motorized tool ended, and wood particles flew into her nostrils. A couple sneezes had her frantically searching for the napkin she’d left amongst the clutter on the table.

“Ms. McLeod?” Chris’ resonant voice matched his six-and-a-half-foot frame. The scent of man-sweat radiated from him, so unlike anything she’d become accustomed to over the course of her marriage. Jasper, her ex-husband, was the type of man to hire people to shift a piece of paper from one side of the desk to the other, so she’d rarely seen him perspire. Not even after he’d played polo, but he’d sure been sweaty when she’d found him naked in their marital bed with his assistant.

She looked away from the carpenter’s sculpted upper torso, and he chuckled, his tools clanking and tingling. Oops. She hadn’t looked away quickly enough.

She lowered her gaze to the keyboard. “Yes, I’m sorry, Mr.—”

“Please, call me Chris.” He nodded to her laptop. “How’s the book coming?”

She glanced into his eyes. The blue-grays were so reminiscent of Sam’s. She had to get a grip on her overactive imagination. Would she see Sam’s face in everyone, all over town? One of her high school friends had told her Sam moved away, hadn’t been seen since the funeral.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry. Great. Good. The best one yet.”

Chris looped a thumb through a hanging hoop on his leather utility belt. “I’ll have a substitute here tomorrow. My son has a doctor’s appointment, and I need to check on another project. Sam will manage the installation of the countertop. It’s a simple task. He’ll arrive around ten in the morning.”

“No problem.” Good God, even her old flame’s name came into play.

“The sub’s my dad.” At the mention of his father, pride splashed across his roughened features. “He’s a professor.”

“Architecture or construction?”

“He’s a math professor at West Indiana State University. He’s been teaching a reduced load of classes this semester and going stir crazy with nothing to do. This project came at the perfect time.”

She wanted to jot down notes about mannerisms. Some of his phrasing was priceless. She lifted scattered papers and searched for an ink pen. Finding one, she slid a glance at him, put ballpoint to notepad and quickly scribbled to get the ink to infuse.

“I understand that happens,” she mumbled. “Maybe he needs a hobby?”

Wiping his hands on a red, thin square towel, he smiled and showed off his pearly whites. “Oh yeah, a hobby would be good.” He pointed to her computer, the cloth waving like a banner. “Is that the type of book you write? Hobbies?”

Heat infused her cheeks. She’d just finished a sex scene for the vamp character. Nope, not a book about typical hobbies. “Not exactly. I—”

The ding of a cellphone sounded and a light shone through his jeans pocket. He dug the phone out and glanced at it. “Excuse me. I need to take this.”

The younger man swiped a finger across the screen, and after a few mumbled comments, glanced at her as he took a few steps into the corridor. He wouldn’t have privacy in the Echo Wall hallway.

Alyson put the pad of paper in front of her keyboard and focused on the computer screen.

“Dad, Mrs. Clydesdale called and said you ditched her.” He paused.

She leaned forward, wanting to know more. Might be useful information for her book.

“Yes, she does look like her name, but you can’t keep dating women one time and…” Chris exhaled. “No, I don’t want to hear about that aspect of your life. I know. I’ll meet you at the usual place. Someday maybe we could meet at a coffee shop instead. Yeah, I miss her too. I’ll be on time.”

Alyson choked back a chuckle and lowered her laptop’s screen. In her own style of shorthand, she jotted notes. Busy trying to catch up from the previous interaction, she failed to hear more of the conversation. Usually, she couldn’t care less about other people’s phone discussions, but for some reason, the dialogue between Chris and his father had piqued her interest.

“Time to leave?” she asked when he returned.

“Yeah, something came up with my dad.” He tucked his phone back inside his pocket.

She smiled, hoping to reassure him she hadn’t overheard his conversation, at least not all of it. “I understand about complicated families.”

He nodded. “Oh, I forgot you’re a widow too, so you understand. Even after a year and a half my father’s adapting. He and my mother were really tight.” Chris packed up his tools. He slid screwdrivers into the loops of his utility belt and plunked heavier items into the metal toolbox.

She didn’t want to correct him about her single status. Perhaps her brother, Grayson, had declared her a widow. He’d arranged the construction company. Maybe Grayson didn’t want his friends to find out she’d left her husband. Divorcees had their own set of barriers and stigmas.

She dreaded the questions, the ones her friends would ask. From her experience, people were either predominately nosy or, the polar opposite, caring.

Chris looked barely twenty years of age, too young to lose a parent. Then again, maybe his parents had him later in life.

He returned to the table. Tools were no longer distributed throughout the kitchen. A sudden sense of loss snatched the warmth from her.

She slid the notepad forward. “I’m sorry about your mother. How did she pass?”

Chris hoisted his toolkit. “Cancer. She was an amazing woman.” His cell phone dinged. “Dad—Sam—will be here tomorrow around ten to do prep work and accept the delivery of the countertops.” He nodded toward the panel truck in the driveway, visible through the kitchen window. On the side, “Stiles Construction and Remodeling” was written in bold black letters over a sun rising on a blue sky. A ladder sat on top. “But we’ve remodeled a couple of kitchens, so he has skills.”

“Okay, thanks. I look forward to meeting Sam.” She stood, wishing she’d made more notes about the way Chris talked, some of the charming language he’d used and his magnificent facial expressions, but she always had next time.

* * * * *

The next day, Alyson tossed clothing on her king-sized bed. She’d collected a lot of designer eveningwear during her ten years of marriage. She selected a dress for the upcoming Wish Upon a Star charity event but added most of her gowns to the donation pile. She probably wouldn’t use formal attire as often now that Jasper was no longer dragging her to one black-tie affair after another.

With a smaller closet, she should have thinned out the older garments before moving back to Indiana. She’d donate the unused clothing to a local woman’s shelter. From the height of the pile, she’d need a truck to transport them. Most of the dresses could be converted into casual wear or business attire if their new owners were so inclined.

Dressed in her camisole and panties, she tried on summer outfits to determine if she needed new sizes. She didn’t want to think her hips had expanded or back fat had appeared. As a realist, she understood changes occurred in a woman’s body as she aged, but she didn’t want to admit she couldn’t keep a husband or that she’d gained weight in all the wrong places.

A knock sounded on the front door.

She glanced at the oversized medallion clock. Nine. Chris’ dad wasn’t due to arrive for another hour.

Her sleek emerald robe hung off the edge of a beige barrel table. She grabbed it and slid her arms into the sleeves as she scurried down the hallway and into the dining room. She bypassed the security panel and eased the white plantation shutter open to peer outside.

Her heart thudded to a stop. “Sam,” she whispered, not truly believing what she was seeing.

The man on the porch was Sam. Her Sam. The love she’d never been able to forget. The one who’d broken her heart over two decades earlier.

http://www.jj-keller.com

Fantasies with spice and humor.

TWITTER http://twitter.com/jjKellerauthor

FACEBOOK http://www.facebook.com/pages/JJ-Keller/263353331459?v=wall

WORDPRESS http://romancewithjjkeller.wordpress.com

AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=JJ%20Keller&search-alias=digital-text&sort=relevancerank

GOODREADS:

https://www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomjj_Keller

Last Chance at Love October 2015

The Valkyrie and the Marine, Pippa’s Rescue, Memory of Love&

Trade Agreement, LASR Best Book, Prop in the movie RED. http://www.thewildrosepress.com print and eprint.

All rights reserved.  Star-crossed #lovers: find happiness or will a wicked matchmaker’s antics keep them apart? #LastChanceatLove @jjkellerauthor

REVIEW:

I just finished reading Last Chance at Love. I truly enjoyed it.

I loved that sexy cupid at the start, the gorgeous art work Sam and Alyson made, Tina’s growing understanding, and the depth of the emotion as the story built to resolution. A feel good factor of 10. Daisy Banks

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Last-Chance-at-Love-Keller-ebook/dp/B015VV68DA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1443629710&sr=8-1&keywords=Last+Chance+at+Love+by+jj+Keller

All Romance Ebooks https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-lastchanceatlove-1897353-349.htm

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/last-chance-at-love-3

Cobblestone Press http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/lastchance.htm

BN-Nook http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/last-chance-at-love-jj-keller/1122751405?ean=2940151215930

 

STALKER

THE HUNT BEGINS:  http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/author/jjkeller.htm

Stalker700x1059

Julie has a stalker. What’s worse? Everyone in her sleepy town thinks she’s the threat. Not to anyone’s life, to the video shoot bringing big bucks into town. After the mayor asks her to leave, Julie retreats to a secluded cabin. Trouble, however, follows her.

 

When his production company arrives in Jove, Match isn’t prepared for Julie James. His attraction takes on a new dimension when he discovers she’s a magical healer, and he needs a miracle to save his baby brother’s life.

 

As the deviant closes in, Julie and Match’s lives become entwined, but tragedy is hovering on the horizon.

BUY

 

THE ROMANCE STUDIO READERS AND VISITORS YOU CAN ENTER TO WIN A COPY OF STALKER BY ADDING A COMMENT BELOW. CONTEST ENDS MARCH 30, 2016.

 

 

Resolutions: Four Words

Four word Resolutions: Debunked
Weight
Exercise
Improvement
Friendship

 

At the beginning of the New Year I typically create resolutions…as most people do. Historically, I’ve found four easy enough to manage for an entire year.

After age 30 I added “lose weight” to the resolution list. As the metabolism slows the exercise must increase in order to maintain balance or eat less…but that’s a joke, as I enjoy cooking and especially savoring good food. So resolution number one…discredited.

Consistently exercise: the easiest of the four as I enjoy making my body stronger. I’ve discovered the importance of health, but time and motivation counteract my good intentions.

Help my children improve their lives: the most difficult because how does a mother know when to cease guiding and let the child make his or her own way. Making mistakes is a powerful learning tool. In retrospect I wished I had taught, “LISTENING” and “CONSEQUENCES” to a greater degree.

My third resolution is to be a better friend. As I grow more mature I learn the value of friendships and how harmony in one’s life evolves around health, wellness, family and friendship. However, friendship seem to mock me as we’ve moved to a larger city and I’ve found social groups are diverse and harder to infiltrate. I pledge to be a better friend to those I have—even if it’s via email and text.

Now, seventeen days into the year 2016 I’m debunking the four resolutions set. I refuse to let fear of the unknown dictate my thoughts, and I accept the reality of life…it ends without notice. I’m going to laugh, love and live so I’m going to embrace each day as if it is, indeed, the last.

How about you? Do you make resolutions? Stick to them?
Are you going to fling aside rules and cherish friends, family and time?

http://www.jj-keller.com
Fantasies with spice and humor.

TWITTER http://twitter.com/jjKellerauthor

FACEBOOK http://www.facebook.com/pages/JJ-Keller/263353331459?v=wall

WORDPRESS https://romancewithjjkeller.wordpress.com

AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=JJ%20Keller&search-alias=digital-text&sort=relevancerank

GOODREADS:
https://www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomjj_Keller

Last Chance at Love

The Valkyrie and the Marine, Pippa’s Rescue, Memory of Love&
Trade Agreement, LASR Best Book, Prop in the movie RED. http://www.thewildrosepress.com print and eprint.
All rights reserved.

121 characters: Star-crossed #lovers: find happiness or will a wicked matchmaker’s antics keep them apart? #LastChanceatLove @jjkellerauthor

I just finished reading Last Chance at Love. I truly enjoyed it.
I loved that sexy cupid at the start, the gorgeous art work Sam and Alyson made, Tina’s growing understanding, and the depth of the emotion as the story built to resolution. A feel good factor of 10.
Daisy Banks
A Gentleman’s Folly
Marked for Magic
Christmas Carols

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Last-Chance-at-Love-Keller-ebook/dp/B015VV68DA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1443629710&sr=8-1&keywords=Last+Chance+at+Love+by+jj+Keller

All Romance Ebooks https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-lastchanceatlove-1897353-349.html

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/last-chance-at-love-3

Cobblestone Press http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/lastchance.htm

BN-Nook http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/last-chance-at-love-jj-keller/1122751405?ean=2940151215930

 

COMING SOON: STALKER

Last Chance at Love

Greetings! I’m off to have outpatient surgery on Monday, so for this blog I’m going to share a bit about my new release, Last Chance at Love.

Last Chance at Love

When Alyson McLeod returns to Jove, she never expects her high school sweetheart to knock on her front door. Sam’s arrival stirs memories she thought she’d banished long ago and awakens a fiery need no other man has been able to conjure.

The phoenix tattoo on Sam Crown’s arm immortalizes the woman he loved—and lost—long ago. Alyson’s return should excite him, but instead, she awakens a guilt he’s not sure even love can overcome.

Can these star-crossed lovers finally find happiness or will a wicked matchmaker’s antics keep them apart forever?

http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/author/jjkeller.htm

EXCERPT:

Alyson swung her attention from her laptop to the handyman bent over the kitchen cabinet. Chris’ powerful, flawless arms enabled him to wield the screw gun like a pro, and durr, durr, durr added a pleasant melody to the room.

The maple cabinets had been an impulse purchase, but she rather liked how the lighter color made the space appear larger. A bonus to having her kitchen updated, Chris modeled the hero in her current book. His white T-shirt pulled taut across his broad shoulders as he stretched to secure a bolt from a toolbox a foot away.

Jeans sheathed his tight, perfectly formed rear. His thick thighs enabled Chris to lift heavy pieces of lumber while her hero’s enabled him to hold the heroine against the wall during a hot, sexy, clandestine encounter. Chris’ dark blond hair, styled in a buzz cut, accentuated his sharp cheekbones and granite jawline. Her hero had light brown hair that touched the tips of his ears. However, the cheekbones and stubborn jaw…the same.

In a lot of ways, Chris reminded her of Sam Crown, her boyfriend at Chilton Academy nearly thirty years ago. Sam had been the love of her life, the man who’d created a cancer in her heart no other man had been able to cure. Returning to her hometown had stirred memories of their ill-fated romance, and she’d embedded some of those details into her book. In doing so, in giving fictitious-Sam and fictitious-her a happy ending, maybe she could finally eradicate him from her thoughts.

She scooted her chair away from the dining table and evaluated the renovations. The noise and scenery inspired her. She wouldn’t leave the area despite the strong odors of glue and dust. She had to think of another job to keep her handyman on site after the current project ended on Friday. At least long enough for her to write twenty thousand more words. She hated the thought of her “hero” leaving before her book was finished.

The whirring of the motorized tool ended, and wood particles flew into her nostrils. A couple sneezes had her frantically searching for the napkin she’d left amongst the clutter on the table.

“Ms. McLeod?” Chris’ resonant voice matched his six-and-a-half-foot frame. The scent of man-sweat radiated from him, so unlike anything she’d become accustomed to over the course of her marriage. Jasper, her ex-husband, was the type of man to hire people to shift a piece of paper from one side of the desk to the other, so she’d rarely seen him perspire. Not even after he’d played polo, but he’d sure been sweaty when she’d found him naked in their marital bed with his assistant.

She looked away from the carpenter’s sculpted upper torso, and he chuckled, his tools clanking and tingling. Oops. She hadn’t looked away quickly enough.

She lowered her gaze to the keyboard. “Yes, I’m sorry, Mr.—”

“Please, call me Chris.” He nodded to her laptop. “How’s the book coming?”

She glanced into his eyes. The blue-grays were so reminiscent of Sam’s. She had to get a grip on her overactive imagination. Would she see Sam’s face in everyone, all over town? One of her high school friends had told her Sam moved away, hadn’t been seen since the funeral.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry. Great. Good. The best one yet.”

Chris looped a thumb through a hanging hoop on his leather utility belt. “I’ll have a substitute here tomorrow. My son has a doctor’s appointment, and I need to check on another project. Sam will manage the installation of the countertop. It’s a simple task. He’ll arrive around ten in the morning.”

“No problem.” Good God, even her old flame’s name came into play.

“The sub’s my dad.” At the mention of his father, pride splashed across his roughened features. “He’s a professor.”

“Architecture or construction?”

“He’s a math professor at West Indiana State University. He’s been teaching a reduced load of classes this semester and going stir crazy with nothing to do. This project came at the perfect time.”

She wanted to jot down notes about mannerisms. Some of his phrasing was priceless. She lifted scattered papers and searched for an ink pen. Finding one, she slid a glance at him, put ballpoint to notepad and quickly scribbled to get the ink to infuse.

“I understand that happens,” she mumbled. “Maybe he needs a hobby?”

Wiping his hands on a red, thin square towel, he smiled and showed off his pearly whites. “Oh yeah, a hobby would be good.” He pointed to her computer, the cloth waving like a banner. “Is that the type of book you write? Hobbies?”

Heat infused her cheeks. She’d just finished a sex scene for the vamp character. Nope, not a book about typical hobbies. “Not exactly. I—”

The ding of a cellphone sounded and a light shone through his jeans pocket. He dug the phone out and glanced at it. “Excuse me. I need to take this.”

The younger man swiped a finger across the screen, and after a few mumbled comments, glanced at her as he took a few steps into the corridor. He wouldn’t have privacy in the Echo Wall hallway.

Alyson put the pad of paper in front of her keyboard and focused on the computer screen.

“Dad, Mrs. Clydesdale called and said you ditched her.” He paused.

She leaned forward, wanting to know more. Might be useful information for her book.

“Yes, she does look like her name, but you can’t keep dating women one time and…” Chris exhaled. “No, I don’t want to hear about that aspect of your life. I know. I’ll meet you at the usual place. Someday maybe we could meet at a coffee shop instead. Yeah, I miss her too. I’ll be on time.”

Alyson choked back a chuckle and lowered her laptop’s screen. In her own style of shorthand, she jotted notes. Busy trying to catch up from the previous interaction, she failed to hear more of the conversation. Usually, she couldn’t care less about other people’s phone discussions, but for some reason, the dialogue between Chris and his father had piqued her interest.

“Time to leave?” she asked when he returned.

“Yeah, something came up with my dad.” He tucked his phone back inside his pocket.

She smiled, hoping to reassure him she hadn’t overheard his conversation, at least not all of it. “I understand about complicated families.”

He nodded. “Oh, I forgot you’re a widow too, so you understand. Even after a year and a half my father’s adapting. He and my mother were really tight.” Chris packed up his tools. He slid screwdrivers into the loops of his utility belt and plunked heavier items into the metal toolbox.

She didn’t want to correct him about her single status. Perhaps her brother, Grayson, had declared her a widow. He’d arranged the construction company. Maybe Grayson didn’t want his friends to find out she’d left her husband. Divorcees had their own set of barriers and stigmas.

She dreaded the questions, the ones her friends would ask. From her experience, people were either predominately nosy or, the polar opposite, caring.

Chris looked barely twenty years of age, too young to lose a parent. Then again, maybe his parents had him later in life.

He returned to the table. Tools were no longer distributed throughout the kitchen. A sudden sense of loss snatched the warmth from her.

She slid the notepad forward. “I’m sorry about your mother. How did she pass?”

Chris hoisted his toolkit. “Cancer. She was an amazing woman.” His cell phone dinged. “Dad—Sam—will be here tomorrow around ten to do prep work and accept the delivery of the countertops.” He nodded toward the panel truck in the driveway, visible through the kitchen window. On the side, “Stiles Construction and Remodeling” was written in bold black letters over a sun rising on a blue sky. A ladder sat on top. “But we’ve remodeled a couple of kitchens, so he has skills.”

“Okay, thanks. I look forward to meeting Sam.” She stood, wishing she’d made more notes about the way Chris talked, some of the charming language he’d used and his magnificent facial expressions, but she always had next time.

* * * * *

The next day, Alyson tossed clothing on her king-sized bed. She’d collected a lot of designer eveningwear during her ten years of marriage. She selected a dress for the upcoming Wish Upon a Star charity event but added most of her gowns to the donation pile. She probably wouldn’t use formal attire as often now that Jasper was no longer dragging her to one black-tie affair after another.

With a smaller closet, she should have thinned out the older garments before moving back to Indiana. She’d donate the unused clothing to a local woman’s shelter. From the height of the pile, she’d need a truck to transport them. Most of the dresses could be converted into casual wear or business attire if their new owners were so inclined.

Dressed in her camisole and panties, she tried on summer outfits to determine if she needed new sizes. She didn’t want to think her hips had expanded or back fat had appeared. As a realist, she understood changes occurred in a woman’s body as she aged, but she didn’t want to admit she couldn’t keep a husband or that she’d gained weight in all the wrong places.

A knock sounded on the front door.

She glanced at the oversized medallion clock. Nine. Chris’ dad wasn’t due to arrive for another hour.

Her sleek emerald robe hung off the edge of a beige barrel table. She grabbed it and slid her arms into the sleeves as she scurried down the hallway and into the dining room. She bypassed the security panel and eased the white plantation shutter open to peer outside.

Her heart thudded to a stop. “Sam,” she whispered, not truly believing what she was seeing.

The man on the porch was Sam. Her Sam. The love she’d never been able to forget. The one who’d broken her heart over two decades earlier.

Last Chance at Love

http://www.jj-keller.com

Fantasies with spice and humor.

TWITTER http://twitter.com/jjKellerauthor

FACEBOOK http://www.facebook.com/pages/JJ-Keller/263353331459?v=wall

WORDPRESS https://romancewithjjkeller.wordpress.com

BLOGSPOT http://jjkeller.blogspot.com

AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=JJ%20Keller&search-alias=digital-text&sort=relevancerank

GOODREADS:

https://www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomjj_Keller

Last Chance at Love 

The Valkyrie and the MarinePippa’s RescueMemory of Love&

Trade Agreement, LASR Best Book, Prop in the movie RED. http://www.thewildrosepress.com print and eprint. 

All rights reserved.LatChanceAtLove-squarebutton

Dents on my bum…are you kidding?

Earlier this year I was foolish and shortened my running route by creating a cross-country path. As I tripped over a rock, my left knee bent in an odd position.

The result: A torn ligament with an estimated recovery period of one year.

I believe my physician was a little scared when I bolted upright from the exam table. What? No quick-cure surgery, no braces, no miracle drugs? Nothing but time would fix the problem?

Crapola! I’m an avid exercise woman. I mean, I must get some form of vigorous physical stimulation at least three times a week or I get…let’s say cranky.

Instead of performing half-an-hour of weight lifting, I went to a solid hour. My upper body firmed and squared (not in a good way LOL).

My esteem decreased as I increased a slack size. The final insult to my lowered sense of self was when my husband announced he saw dents on my bum. (Hey, thanks.)

I immediately went into the bathroom, stripped, and glared at the full view. How had this happened?

Why? Reduced aerobic exercise. Four months had passed and I only experienced sharp twinges when I wore high heels, so I tied on my running shoes and hit the pavement. Twenty minutes later I limped home.

As a result, I had to restart my year of “rest and healing”.

From the shocked expression on friends who I haven’t seen in a while, my transformation wasn’t a good one. I certainly wasn’t keen on the new me.

I purchased new outfits— all dark colors. I’d become twice the person I’d been several months prior.

I’m determined to shave off the excess weight and try to trim down the muscles on top…except for the breasts, I kind of like the firmer, larger, upper chest.

I climbed onto a glide machine and followed with stomach exercises on the big yellow ball. Now, just a few weeks later, I see a difference in the thighs. The rear is another issue.

jj Keller
Fantasies with spice and humor.

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The Valkyrie and the MarinePippa’s RescueMemory of Love

Shadow of the Hawk/Dark Sun. He’s almost an angel and she’s pure temptation.
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Eternity by Daisy Banks

A Happy New Year, jj, and to all your readers. Thank you so much for hosting me and helping me celebrate the release of my new book To Eternity, the second book in the Timeless series.

To Eternity

I hope those of you who enjoyed meeting Magnus and Sian in Timeless will enjoy this next step in their story. I hope those of you meeting them for the first time in To Eternity will want to find out about their past in Timeless.

I am presently in the process of writing Out of Time, Book Three in the series and hope to have it completed this year.

One of my great loves in this story is the house. Over the time I have worked with Magnus and Sian in the setting of the house at Darnwell I have enjoyed their pleasure in the house and gardens. I have chosen an excerpt that gives a flavor of the place where much of the story unfolds.

 

To Eternity-wild beneath the moon- Book Two in the Timeless Series.

Blurb

For four centuries Magnus has lived according to the dictates of the moon, his heart isolated by the domination of his wolf nature. Now fate has brought the beautiful, independent Sian to his house at Darnwell and their irresistible attraction has exploded into a white-hot passion. Yet she is not wolf, and the time has come for her to embrace the change. But once she completes the ritual and claims her place next to Magnus, the rivals will appear on the horizon…

Excerpt

Heartbeat rising with concerns for their discussion, she went through to the bedroom. She dumped her sweater on the chair before she opened the door to the wet room. She caught a glimpse of his slick, dark, wet hair dripping on his broad shoulders. The water cascaded down his back to his firm-muscled ass. Still, his pain beat at her like a night fury. Not anger, but an aching hurt she could do nothing to relieve. She called into the shower. “Shall I pour you some coffee?”

The full power of the spray, along with a waft of steam, drowned out his response. She closed the door. Rather than wait, she poured two cups anyway. Curling her hand around her cup, she settled herself in the huge, oak chair in front of the hearth to wait for him to join her. The carving at the end of the curtained four-poster bed, of two wolves with bodies entwined, spoke to her the same way it had the first time Magnus brought her into this room he’d kept as a private sanctuary for so long. This hand-chiseled image, a reference to his parents who had commissioned the monumental bed, gave her hope. They’d loved, as humans and wolves, their pairing bound in a permanent connection. They’d produced offspring. A son, this magnificent, wonderful man, wolf, person. A wave of emotion brought a lump to her throat while she weighed the possibilities against the current reality. Blinking fast, she swiped at her eyes.

This mood would bring her no good. Crying wouldn’t solve a thing. She’d end up with a sore throat, red eyes, a swollen nose, and none of it would help. If Magnus found her in tears, it would stoke his guilt further. He might even try to send her back to her flat in London. The line she trod with him demanded the balance skills of a gymnast on the beam. Yes, he cared about her, she was certain…up to a point.

Maybe he loved her enough to send her away. Fresh tears welled for she could imagine his explanation. I can’t hurt you like this anymore. You must leave.

Heaven help her, he’d mean every word of it. He’d send her away, then bury himself in majestic misery here while he waited for her to age and die.

“Bugger it all.” Her voice cracked as she set her coffee cup down on the small table beside her chair. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll not leave you, not unless you take me back to London and dump me there, Magnus. I belong here.”

The oak wolves stared back from the wood panel with a silent offer of agreement.

“Too right,” she said forcing herself to relax. “I agreed to stay with him and I will. He’ll just have to get accustomed to a female being around all the time. I’m going nowhere.”

“Had you planned on going somewhere?” he asked, toweling his dark hair as he walked in from the wet room.

“No, I was giving myself a bit of a pep talk.” She sucked in the sight of his broad shoulders, the ripples of muscle on his chest. Her gaze moved down to the towel he’d draped around his middle, clinging snug to the damp curve of his ass. Rising from the chair, she hurried to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and laid her head on his smooth damp shoulder. Her previous experiences had been nothing like this compulsive need for Magnus. When she was nineteen, she’d had a bit of a glow about one boyfriend, but it was a timid kind of affection, rather like standing under a warm shower. With Magnus, she swam in an ocean of unfamiliar sensations, and though some might be scary, she didn’t want them to stop. She wouldn’t stand by silent if Magnus tried to end their relationship because of his guilt for who and what he was, even if he thought it would be good for her.

 

Buy Links

Barns&Noble

Amazon

Amazon UK

http://www.ekensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/31117

 

Daisy Banks Links

Blog   http://daisybanks.wordpress.com/

Website http://daisybanksnovels.yolasite.com/

Twitter @DaisyBanks16

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