LASR Giftabration

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Do you like to read?

Want to win free books from exceptional authors?

Gift card anyone?

Join Long and Short Reviews for their 10th Anniversary.

My book Mystic Love will be given to a lucky winner!

  • Ericka Gilmore dabbles in life and death when she tries to conjure a ghost lover. But when flesh and blood, Joe Reeves appears on her doorstep in the midst of a storm, she has to rethink her destiny.

    A car accident left the former cop with the ability to foresee death. No longer willing to watch people he cares about die, Joe goes in search of a shaman to remove his “gift”. His remedy until then is to avoid all relationships. But like a lightning strike, he experiences a strong connection with Ericka. A nearby mystical ley line could be Joe’s solution if he and Ericka combine their gifts. But her secret past and his fear of seeing her death keep them at odds.

    Rating: Spicy
    Page Count: 282
    Word Count: 68692
    978-1-5092-1060-2 Paperback
    978-1-5092-1061-9 Digital 

    Excerpt

    She threw herself against her dream lover, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. His lips were cold, but perfect in form. At first, his mouth didn’t move, but after a couple of seconds, he pressed into her. She flicked the tip of her tongue over his mouth, outlining the curves, and then slid it between his lips. His tongue played with hers. Sharp, decadent longing powered through her.

    Wait a minute, he didn’t taste like she’d imagined. He tasted like mint and human. She touched whatever smooth cool skin she could find available between the coat and his neck and shoulders. Strong and virile hot body. She inhaled, taking in his scent; fragrant late fall wind and the odor of male sweat.

    Sweat? Wet skin? She licked her lips, savoring the zest. A spear of lightning brightened the sky. Six foot three. Left ear piercing. Broad chest. Wrangler posture, with one knee bent.

    Her heart thumped harder, pounding strong in her chest.

    Whom had she kissed?

    ****

    Joe supported her, keeping her in an upright position. Definitely a her as supple breasts snuggled tight against his chest. Her robe opened, and he fought the urge to remove his own garments to feel her warm body against his, flesh to flesh.

    Lips tasting of wine connected with his, insistent and passionate. Six months ago, he embarked on his solo quest, but it hadn’t been so long that he couldn’t remember previous intimacies, and those encounters didn’t compare to her lavish kisses. Whew, hot, he’d go with the flow for a little longer.

    She jerked, and then shoved him away. Sadly, the kiss had been a mistake, and from the flash of surprise crossing her face, she’d realized it as well. The pale blue, almost white, towel came loose from her head. She snapped the cloth off. Sexy dark ringlets fell in twisted disarray to her shoulders.

    Joe had been lucky enough to catch a joyful kiss and snuggle. He’d delighted in the touch of her lips, the scent of her womanhood, and her wonderful nipples piercing into his thin, sodden shirt. Enjoying the mistake and resulting benefits, he grinned.

    The gleam in her eyes went from surprise to anger. With a shaking hand, she wiped her luscious pink mouth.

    He stood in a quandary and debated how to explain. Under the circumstances, she wouldn’t accuse him of a forced entry.

    “Sorry. No lights. I didn’t hear a security system buzz. I would’ve shouted.” He took a step. “Instead of coming inside.”

    She retreated.

    Damn. He’d be sleeping in the rain after all.

MYSTIC LOVE if you can’t wait for the contest!

MysticLove_w8541_med

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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.

 

 

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.

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

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.
http://cobblestone-press.com/catalog/author/jjkeller.htm
Trade Agreement, LASR Best Book, Prop in the movie RED.  http://www.thewildrosepress.com print and eprint.
All rights reserved.

Make a Statement with your Shopping BAG

My friend, Liz, and I are shopping bag addicts. Admitting the problem is  the first step to recovery, right?

Green planet. Grow organic. Repurpose. Recycle. This is my mantra.

Stores began promoting using your own bag or buying one of their bags instead of using a throw-away-plastic bag. Granted most people recycle the plastic bags, but some end up in landfills…forever.

I began buying a variety of the thin, poly, bags, selecting bold colors and clever logos. Regardless of the purpose (market, gift, carryout, etc.) an attractive bag makes a statement.

However, the thin bags didn’t hold up to leakage. Some of my can goods often broke through the fabric. If the carrier wasn’t full, the edges would flop and my carrots ended up touching the trunk pelt. I know what’s been in the boot and did not want my consumables mixing with the germs.

As a result of the failures to perform, I purchased canvas bags. The first spillage I rejoiced in the fact I could wash the bag and reuse it. It shrank. I didn’t use the dryer, but hung the canvas in the laundry room. It’s difficult to fit very many items in my new Barbie-sized bag.

I began looking at the labels for manufacture location, content, and durability. From my hands on research, I’ve found Trader Joes has quality reusable bags, which are beautiful. In addition, Vera Bradley (local to Fort Wayne, IN) had gorgeous containers that hold up to the can goods and fresh produce.

Recent addition:

Bag

Thank you and happy spring.

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

Jewel Heist, Kensington Press

The Valkyrie and the Marine, The Wild Rose Press
Pippa’s Rescue and Memory of Love

 

Dark Sun He’s almost an angel and she’s pure temptation.

Trade Agreement LASR Best Book.
All rights reserved.

Facebook:

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

https://romancewithjjkeller.wordpress.com

http://jjkeller.blogspot.com

http://twitter.com/jjKellerauthor

 

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

Facebook http://on.fb.me/18iRC35

Pinterest http://bit.ly/16sF1XG

An interview with The Romance Studio

jj, thank you so much for talking with us at TRS! Your featured book is Memory of Love is part of your Valkyrie series. What can you tell us about this amazing series?

 

Thank you, Holly and all of the amazing staff at TRS, for inviting me to share information about the Valkyrie series and myself.

 

The series was created as a result of an interview question: What mythological character would I choose to be? A Valkyrie! Valkyries are strong warriors, women who are trained to conquer, find a champion among fallen soldiers and offer the best of the best fighter eternal life serving in Odin’s army.

 

Many of my loved ones joined the armed forces to help make our country safe but safety isn’t guaranteed, so in my imaginative mind I tried to find a way of not losing my family and friends. What better way than to create a series involving Valkyries saving the men they love?

The Valkyrie and the Marine introduces us to Kiara, a Valkyrie striving to be the leader of her own squad, her best friend, Skogul, Harrison and Basil who are Special Ops Marines. In the second book, Pippa’s Rescue, Harrison has disappeared and Basil intends to find him. Memory of Love is the latest story focusing on power, family and loyalty.

 

In the story, Memory of Love, Skogul is tied to a tree in the midst of thieves. Skogul wakes without memory of who she is or of the man she once loved. Using curiously skills, she escapes. Injured and exhausted, a wolf befriends her and leads her to a house where the hunky owner’s eyes look strangely familiar.

 

Enter, Aidan Hall, former guardian of Hell’s Gate, and a shifter who doesn’t trust anyone. When a beautiful amnesia victim appears at his door, why does he feel a connection? Who and what he is, will keep them apart. But when dark magik shows up in his woods, his guard intensifies. Is it Skogul or someone else?

 

When Demons flood through Hell’s Gate, can he stop them, or will the memory of love be the death of him?

 

 

  • What can you tell us about the books that came before it?

The Valkyrie and the Marine. I love the characters in the Valkyrie series. The women are sensitive yet strong. The men are sexy!

Kiara of Asgard must look beyond the man to select only the best warriors to fight for Odin. But all her training deserts her when she sees Special Ops Marine Harrison Lombard. Unable to resist him, she saves his life on the battlefield instead of taking him to Valhalla. For her disloyalty, she’s given five days as a human while Odin decides her fate.

During a mission in North Korea, Harrison’s Force Reconnaissance team is ambushed. Critically wounded, he’s straddled by a magnificent blonde wearing a helmet of feathers who eliminates his pain. Before he can find out who she is, she’s gone. When she turns up in the States months later, he can hardly believe his luck—or the fire burning between them.

But Odin still has a claim on Harrison’s soul. Will his angel of mercy save him again? Or has she come to collect?

 

This is what Romance Junkies had to say about the story: Packed with intrigue, suspense, an enthralling plot, clever repartee and love, this story is a delight. I look forward to reading more by this gifted author. I highly recommend THE VALKYRIE AND THE MARINE. Do not miss it!

Dottie/Romance Junkies http://romancejunkiesreviews.com/artman/publish/paranormal/The_Valkyrie_and_the_Marine.shtml

 

Pippa’s Rescue: Harrison has disappeared and his best friend, Basil, intends to find his brother-in-arms. Basil is a British name and I thought adorable for a secondary character in the first book, The Valkyrie and the Marine. Like the herb he is sweet, beautiful, and with his bold lines—too spicy to handle. He goes to a horse rescue ranch intending to find Wilson, the man who was responsible for their squads’ ambush and Harrison’s disappearance. Semper fi, “always faithful” is the motto of the U.S. Marine Core and Basil honors his code even if justice becomes gray instead of black and white.

Pippa Wilson owner of the horse rescue ranch must find her brother in order to save the ranch. Pippa, short for Phillipa, after the future Queen of England’s sister, Pippa Middleton. The name, Phillipa, means horse lover. My Pippa doesn’t want to act on her attraction to Basil, but love has a way of disrupting life.

Skogul, Valkyrie leader of the first squad in Valhalla, is supposed to offer immortality to former Marine Basil Vanguard. Too bad watching science fiction on the big screen is more fun. But if her assignment slips through the cracks, will Odin himself take a hand?

  • How does Memory of Love continue the series? Legend claims Odin is killed by a wolf during Ragnarok. When a soothsayer warns the great icon of the danger, Skogul, the heroine and appearing in all three books, and a strong and confident warrior, volunteers to lose her memory in order to infiltrate a wolf shape-shifters camp.

In the Valkyrie series, the villain, first appearing in The Valkyrie and the Marine and Pippa’s brother, is finally caught.

A constant in all three books, the women who love their men go to great lengths to save them, while remaining loyal to their own true selves.

 

4)   What do you like best about Skogul and why will readers identify with her? Skogul’s continued faith in her skills, and her unshakeable hope are present in each of us. People need hope to conquer all of the missteps and barriers in life. Skogul, despite her strength of character, wavers when her memory is stripped from her and she’s dropped into enemy camp. While searching for any sign of her past, she never gives up hope and continues to strive to be the best warrior—her true self. Readers might identify with their own struggles in life and the amount of hope needed to survive and conquer.

5)      What do you like best about Aidan and why will readers love him? Aidan gives up all in order to pursue a life as a Vet healing animals instead of guarding hell’s gate, his family tradition. Readers will admire his undeniable strength of character and his love for Skogul and his kind. He will invade your dreams with his sexy gorgeousness.

6)      Will there be more to come in this series? Maybe. As long as there is war, there will be Valkyries searching among the fallen, the few, the brave–the chosen champions.

7)     What else do you have in store for readers and fans?

I adore my fans, current and future readers. With them in mind, I’m currently writing a story of a healer who has been exiled from her small town due to a stalker upsetting the businesses. Also on the horizon is a mega-sized book, working title Spiritual Gifts. It’s a fascinating story of people adjusting to the supernatural gifts given to them. I’ll keep you updated. http://www.jj-keller.com.

8)      What do enjoy when you’re not writing?

I love learning. I try to learn something new everyday, so I read a lot. Gardening is one of my spring and summer past times. I was an organic gardener before it became a trend. Herbs are my focus. I use them in cooking, and I practice using herbal remedies for health and beauty.

Also I teach writing at a local community school. I enjoy engaging novice writers and helping them get their stories on paper. My secret pastime is guzzling a bottle of water and eating a slice of dark chocolate.

9)      What are you reading now?

I’m reading Chicken Soup for the Soul, inspiration for Writers. The motivational stories are thought-provoking.

10)   Where can readers find you online?

 

Twitter ID: http://twitter.com/jjKellerauthor

 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jj.keller.58

 

 

blog links:

 

https://romancewithjjkeller.wordpress.com

 

http://jjkeller.blogspot.com

 

 

Website link: http://www.jj-keller.com

 

goodreads author page:

https://www.goodreads.com/goodreadscomjj_Keller

 

 

Bio: jj inherited her name and creativity from her grandmother. A love of reading and adventure took her to many wondrous places. Studying literature provided a solid foundation in which to express her ideas and storytelling became a part of her world. She wants to share with you all of the magic, so please enjoy pieces of her life through her tales.

You can discover more about the author at her website:

http://www.jj-keller.com

 

 

Excerpt: Memory of Love

Every step she took on her lacerated feet stung, yet she forged ahead. If she stopped, rested even for a moment, she wouldn’t be able to pull herself up again. Dizzy and unbalanced, she stumbled into the clearing. The glow from one single lit window cast four squares on the ground in front of a Greek revival house.

Please let someone be inside.

A few staggering steps later, she climbed onto the portico and pounded on the door. Seconds later and no response, she rested her head on the mahogany panel and crab-crawled her fingers to the brass rectangle at the side and pressed the button until chimes played an odd old-fashioned tune. Relief from escaping danger had her impotent body near to collapsing. The adrenaline that enabled her to fight and run eventually lost out to shock and exhaustion. Yet, she had to alert someone to the men in the woods.

Where had the wolf gone? There wasn’t any doubt he’d led her to this house. As of today, she had a greater appreciation for wildlife. Footsteps approached the door from inside. She stood straight, finger-combing her hair to flatten the spiked strands. As her fingers pulled the short ends, she had a distinct impression her hair was typically long, beyond her shoulders. Had her kidnappers cut her hair as some sort of sick joke?

She jerked at her blouse and the cotton tee underneath. Blood had crusted on her upper arm. By the looks of the small stripes, a mere scratch, but it burned like hell. Her jeans, stiff and spattered with dirt and grass, made it obvious she’d been in contact with the ground. There wasn’t a way to improve her poor appearance. The door pulled open. Odin willing, the person would know her.

The barefooted man standing in the doorway, with his jeans unbuttoned, was six foot of pure viewing pleasure. He had ordinary facial features, not broad, not thin. His nose, just the right size, separated his prominent cheeks. His eyes were gray, the color of polished silver. His hair looked soft, reminding her of turned soil on the mountain range of Asgard, deep reddish brown that reached his broad neck.

Her gut tightened. Soil? Asgard?
She shook her head. Having barely escaped the despicable trio, why would she desire one of the same gender? How

messed up was she really?
Unsteady, she gripped the doorpost.
He reached around the door and held her arm. “May I help you?” His voice was low. Sexy.

“Yes, I’m sorry to wake you, but I was…do you know me?” Calm and relaxed her breathing steadied. Birth, death, and rebirth, the idyllic ratio of Norse religion, had she died and been reborn? Was she having an out of body experience? Did she rise above and look down on a bloodstained, dirty, disheveled stranger posing questions to, hopefully, a half- dressed sexy friend?

At least two of her kidnappers were alive and kicking and, no doubt, looking for her. Knees weak and ready to crash, she exhaled. “I don’t think I have a car. Forest. Men…tied.” She fell forward.

http://www.wildrosepublishing.com/maincatalog_v151/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers _id=450&zenid=9495bea283e9022039d63f57a4579636

http://www.jj-keller.com

Memory of Love 8/2014 The Wild Rose Press
Trade Agreement, LASR Best Book, Prop in the movie RED.

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