Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Teaser Tuesday: My Lucky Charm



Fate with a Helping Hand Book 4
MY LUCKY CHARM
  
Sometimes fate needs a little help…

A little thing called desperation had Zoey Preston under the gun. She had two choices, find a job that would help pay enough for her to stay in Boston...or face moving back to the country to a house full of family and various animals. The last thing on her mind was love...until she meets the devastatingly handsome surgeon Marcus Drake. He's like her lucky charm. He's nothing like any of the doctors she's ever met. He drives a Harley and has a thing for Irish music. Too bad she's leaving town.

Hard work never bothered Marcus until the night he returned home after a bad day and realized there was nothing there for him. At a crossroad in his life, he decides it's time to make a change. Then he meets Zoey Preston. The green-eyed girl who can't stand the sight of blood is nothing like the woman he'd imagined would one day be his wife. But he soon realizes, she's is everything he wants...for life.

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Excerpt

Marcus handed Zoey the envelope across the counter. His hand grazed her fingers as the exchange was made, sending tingles of sensation up her arm and making her lightheaded. His deep blue eyes were unlike anything she'd ever seen. In fact, Zoey couldn't quite figure out if she'd ever met a man as striking as Marcus Drake. And he was a surgeon. Oh, the things he could do with those hands. Her cheeks flamed.

As if he were reading her mind, he smiled and lifted his eyebrows quickly and said, "I'd better be going."

"Okay," she said in a voice that sounded much too breathless for her ears.

"Can I have my hand back?"

Zoey glanced down and saw that their hands were entwined. No, not entwined. That would mean he was holding her hand. Instead, she was clutching his, making it impossible for him to move away from the counter. Acid coiled in her stomach as she snatched her hand away.

"Sorry."

"No need to be. Good luck with your job interview, Zoey."

"Thank you."

Vicky came up alongside her and extended her hand to Marcus. He glanced at it quickly, but instead of taking her hand, he simply nodded.

"It was nice meeting you both."

Zoey watched as Marcus left the store and then walked down the crowded sidewalk.

"My luck changed the moment I met that man. Do you have any idea what he is?" Zoey said.

Vicky crossed her arms and nodded. "Stalker."

Zoey made a disgusted face. "Don't be ridiculous. He's a surgeon at one of the best hospitals in the country."

Vicky pointed a finger at her. "Does that mean he can't be a stalker?"

"He's my lucky charm."

"What luck? You're not even Irish."

"We're in Boston. Everyone is Irish when they're in Boston."



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Tuesday, January 16, 2018

TEXAS HEARTS BOXED SET (BOOKS 1-3) is on sale!



My TEXAS HEARTS BOXED SET (BOOKS 1-3)
is on sale for only 99¢!
This is a limited time offer, so grab it while you can!


TEXAS HEARTS BOXED SET (BOOKS 1-3)

5-Stars "Loved all three!!!! I've read several books by ms mondello and was not let down by the Texas hearts trilogy's. they are both funny and and tear jerker. This is my type of book and author. Highly recommend to all. Keep your Kleenex box handy."

5-Stars "Strong men, stronger women, horses, working dogs, and Texas ranchers with complicated lives all make this series a great read. I am looking forward to getting the rest of these books."


USA Today Bestselling Author Lisa Mondello brings you 3 thrilling western romances with 3 sexy cowboy heroes in 1 Box Set!

HER HEART FOR THE ASKING
Mandy Morgan swore she'd never step foot in Texas again after Beau Gentry left her for life on the rodeo circuit eight years before. But now her uncle's heart is failing and she has to convince him that surgery will save his life. She never dreamed the first thing she'd see when she stepped off the plane would be her biggest nightmare...the one man she'd never stopped loving.

Beau Gentry had the fever for two things: the rodeo and Mandy Morgan. But for Beau, loving Mandy was complicated by his father's vendetta against her uncle. This led him to make the hardest decision of his life and he can still see the bitterness and hurt on Mandy's face. All these years it has killed him to think Mandy had forgotten him and moved as far away as possible from him. But now they're back in Texas, and he's going to do all he can to win back her love.

HIS HEART FOR THE TRUSTING
Ever since Mitch Broader set foot in Texas, he dreamed of owning his own ranch. Now that he's bought a share in the Double T Ranch, he's one step closer to the dream. Then his past greets him in the form of a baby basket, complete with infant and birth certificate naming him as the father. He can't change diapers and work toward his dream at the same time.

When Sara Lightfoot, "Miss Hollywood" in Mitch's eyes, rescues him with her particular knack for handling his precocious son, he hires her on the spot as a temporary nanny. No matter how much Sara's dark eyes and warm heart make this bachelor think of making their arrangement permanent, she's made it perfectly clear she has other plans that don't include him or his dreams.

Sara Lightfoot never thought she'd return to her home on the reservation. Now she plans to reclaim the life she left by going back to the reservation as a Native American storyteller, teaching the Apache children stories of their culture. She didn't expect Mitch Broader's sexy smile or job offer as a live-in nanny to derail those plans. After all she's been through to come home, can she open up her heart once again to love?

THE MORE I SEE
As a top-notch cutting horse trainer, Cody Gentry was riding high until he lost his eyesight after a freak chemical accident. Unable to see the hand in front of his face, never mind the horse or cattle he trained, he knows his life is over and slips deep into depression. His whole future hinges on the success of an eye surgery that could give him his old life back.

When guide dog trainer, Lyssa McElhannon, arrives on his ranch like Florence Nightingale coming to save him, he wants no part of her or her guide dog. But something about Lyssa's musical laugh coupled with her tenacity digs under his skin and won't let go. Having been blind most of her life, Lyssa understands the paralyzing fear Cody feels after losing his vision. But she refuses to let the stubborn cowboy waste his life away sitting in a chair when she knows first-hand that a good guide dog can change his world. She just needs one month to prove it to him.

Falling in love with Cody was not part of Lyssa's plan, nor was having him open her eyes to see that there was a whole lot of living she'd been missing.

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Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Teaser Tuesday: The Knight and Maggie's Baby



Fate with a Helping Hand Book 3
THE KNIGHT AND MAGGIE'S BABY

A NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestseller!

"The secondary characters were amazing...a very good book."
~ Cocktails and Books

"...had me in tears because it was so beautiful. Such a lovely story of two people falling in love against the odds."
~ Crystal @ Snowdrops Dreams of Books


Sometimes fate needs a little help…

Billionaire, Jonah Wallace knows what it’s like to grow up without love. Despite having more money than the Queen of England, his childhood was cold and stale as he grew up in boarding schools. He’s dedicated his life to helping homeless and displaced children find the love and support they need by creating the Haven House Foundation, work that resulted in him being Knighted by the Queen.

Now that he’s living in America, his work is going along just fine…until his grandfather gives fate a little nudge by insisting he take a wife before he can inherit.

Coffee shop owner, Maggie Bonelli, is pregnant and the baby’s dad has gone AWOL. She knows too well the pain of growing up without a daddy. So when Jonah Wallace comes into her shop proposing marriage for a year, she takes him up on his offer, even if it’s only for a year. Live in a mansion and give her baby a name and a daddy to call his/her own. But can they keep their perfect arraignment strictly business…or will fate’s helping hand bring them love at last?

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Excerpt

“Don't you think you're rushing things just a tad?” She lifted her hand and pinched her index finger and thumb together for emphasis.

“I'll admit my proposal is a bit abrupt,” he stammered.

“A bit?”

“We've only known each other--”

“Forty-five minutes tops,” she blurted out. “Are you out of your mind?”

Her tone was incredulous. And he really didn't blame Maggie if she thought he was nuts. He felt nuts. Desperate, too. But he found himself defending his proposal.

“Quite possibly. But you see, that’s exactly my point. I have a bit of a time-crunch here, and it seems as though--”

Maggie folded her arms across her chest. “How silly of me. Here I thought you were sweeping me off my feet.”

He shook his head with a chuckle. “I do sound mad, don’t I?”

“Recognition is the first step toward recovery.”

Something rumbled up from deep inside him. Jonah laughed at himself, this disastrous day, and the absurd situation he'd been forced into by his grandfather. It felt good to laugh. That in itself was incredibly surprising, considering he hadn't managed to do much laughing at all since he'd learned of the impending plans for Wiltshire.

He peered at Maggie through moisture filled eyes. She wasn't laughing. But she was incredibly beautiful. Her sapphire eyes sparkled when she teased him. There were small freckles sprinkled across her nose that looked adorable with the sun shining on her creamy skin.

When she looked at him the way she was right now, it didn't seem like such a crazy idea to marry her. At least not for the reasons he was proposing. He hadn't given it a second thought. And yet, now he realized just how ridiculous he looked from her eyes.

“I'm not making a pass at you. Truly, I'm not.”

“You just asked me to marry you.”

“I'm asking for your help.”

“Again?”

His lips tilted up to one side. “Again.”

Maggie took two steps down the stairs until they were both standing at eye level. “Forget the phone call, the nice air conditioned ride in the limo, the coffee, the pie—”

“Which by the way was truly inspiring,” he interjected. “If I didn’t already tell you that.”

“You did. You don't even know me. You’re asking a total stranger to marry you.”

He shrugged. “I know that. But I know you make me laugh.”

“So that's all it takes for a happy marriage? Bet we could make a killing with that book.”

“I sound delusional,” he said. “Even to my own ears, which is pretty scary.”



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Tuesday, January 2, 2018

Teaser Tuesday: The Marriage Contract



Fate with a Helping Hand Holiday Romance
THE MARRIAGE CONTRACT

"Hilariously funny!" "Delightful!" 4 STARS Romantic Times Magazine

What would you do to get a second chance at love? Sometimes fate needs a little helping hand...

When Ruthie Carvalho finds an old birthday card with a marriage proposal scribbled on the back, she figures she's hit pay dirt and is destined to get her 35 year old daughter married.

The trouble is, Ruthie can't stand Cara's boyfriend and Cara is just stubborn enough to push in the opposite direction of what her mother wants.

When Devin Michaels gets a phone call from his old friend's mom, he knows Ruthie is up to something. But he's at a crossroad. It's been 17 years since he's seen Cara and memories of their soulful talks and walks on the beach make him long to reconnect.

Going back to the seaside town of Westport Massachusetts to reconnect with Cara seems like just the thing to do. One look at Cara and the years seem to melt away. With a little help and “creative” planning from Ruthie, can these old friends become lovers and have a second chance at happiness?

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Excerpt

Cara Cavarlho could think of a hundred places she wanted to be right now. 
    This wasn't one of them.
    She tugged on the rope dangling above her head. A musty cloud of dust hit her in the face as the stairs leading to the attic of her parents' Westport home dropped, gaining her access. Gripping the splintered stairs, she began her ascent into the “black hole”, she so affectionately dubbed the attic in her childhood, with mixed emotion. Ever since her parents decided to sell the home she had grown up in and move to Florida with the senior league, she found herself becoming overwhelmed with emotion.
    Of course, her thirty-fifth birthday being right around the corner wasn't a big help. That her mother kept reminding her of her single, childless status only added to her emotional unrest.
    She yanked on the metal chain dangling above her head and light quickly spilled into the sweltering crawl space. “It's a furnace up here!” she called down, immediately feeling the cool air below bathe her warm face.
    Whose idea was it to delve into this black hole on a hot August afternoon? Certainly not mine! she fumed silently.
    “I know. We should have done this earlier in the day, before the sun had a chance to heat the attic,” she heard her mother, Ruthie, call up from below. “Do you want me to get the fan?”
    I want to get out of here and not do this. “No. I can't stay up here long, anyway. I'm already sweating like a pig.”
    On her hands and knees, she carefully crawled along the aged planks, feeling them bend under her weight. Aerobics twice a week and running three miles a day had her wearing the same size she had worn since college. With each creak of the aged floor boards, she was glad she’d taken pains to keep her figure trim.
    Despite the dim light, it was difficult to see. She squinted and tried to focus. Boxes. There were loads of them scattered Helter Skelter around her, tucked into corners they'd been placed in years ago and long since forgotten. The life she used to lead was lost up here. Why couldn't things ever remain the same...?
    “Just start with a few, dear. We can rummage through them first and price anything you want to include in the tag sale,” Ruthie suggested.
    “Sounds like a good idea. I'll come back up tomorrow morning before breakfast to get more. I can barely breathe up here now.” Cara's eyes roamed the piles of memories one last time. After choosing the five boxes closest to the hole and carefully lowering them to her mother, Cara descended to fresh air once again.
    She helped her mother drag the boxes down the stairs and out to the back porch of the beachfront home. Plopping the last one on the wrought iron patio table, she puffed her cheeks and slid the back of her hand across her sweated forehead. The sooner we get through this the better.
    Ruthie was the first to begin the unveiling and plunged into the first box while Cara poured both of them a tumbler of her mother’s homemade lemonade. After a few minutes of digging, Cara found her tension ease. While she'd been dreading the idea of unearthing old memories, she found the task easier once she delved in and became lost in them.
    The first box was filled with old Christmas ornaments and treasures she and her brother, Manny, had made in school when they were kids. A paper doll chain. An old wooden whale Manny had made in woodshop. The next box had old crochet blankets and booties from when they were babies. While Cara fingered the soft yarn of a baby afghan, Ruthie dove into the box filled with old yearbooks and newspaper clippings from Manny's athletic high school days.
    “You suppose Manny would want to keep any of these things?” Ruthie asked, picking up a yearbook and fanning the pages open. A candied piece of what looked like edible underwear fell to the floor boards by their feet. Ruthie retrieved the “article” and held it up in the air between her fingers.
    Cara laughed, remembering the gag gift Manny had given her years ago. It was harmless, but she knew her mother wouldn't find the truth so humorous.
    “Those are mine, Ma. Manny gave them to me before he left for the seminary.”
    As she expected, Ruthie threw her an appalled look. “How would your brother know about such things? He's a priest, for goodness sake!”
    Cara sobered immediately, sucking in her cheeks to keep her laughter at bay. She knew her mother had a hard time remembering Manny as a normal everyday teenager before he'd left for the seminary. Now wasn’t the time to remind her.
    But as usually, Cara didn't leave it alone. She reached across the table for the naughty underwear. “What size are they anyway?”
    “Never you mind.” Ruthie dropped the brittle article of “clothing” in the green rubber garbage can by the table. “If your grandmother saw this, she'd probably take them for herself.”
    Cara gasped. “She would not!”
    “Oh, you'd be surprised. The other day I caught her standing in front of the full length mirror, trying on one of those tight bustiers Madonna wears all the time.”
    “You're kidding. You are kidding, aren't you?”
    Ruthie sighed heavily, a worried looked suddenly etching her face. “I think she has Alzheimer’s.”
    Cara’s hand flew to her chest. “Why?”
    “She's acting strange.”
    “So what’s new? She always acts strange. She's a free spirit.”
    Ruthie remained somber. “As we speak, she's at church.”
    “So?”
    “It's Tuesday.”
    “What? People only go to confession on Sunday?”
    She slapped the yearbook on the table. “She thinks she's Madonna. And there's the fishing thing.”
    Cara held up her hand to halt her. “Fishing?”
    Ruthie sighed and reached across the table, patting Cara's hand. “You’ve been away for a while, honey. You'll see what I mean after a few days.” Cara turned her attention back to one of the boxes in front of her and pulled out a pair of white baby booties.
    “Oh, were these mine?” she crooned, examining the tiny booties.
    “No, dear. I made them for your children, just after you were born. Not that they'll ever be used,” Ruthie quipped under her breath.
    “You made booties for your own grandchildren when I was still a baby? What about me? What did I get to wear?” Cara shook her head in disbelief. Utterly bewildered, she stared blankly at the silk threads sewn in minute stitches with loving care. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read the name embroidered on the heels. “Omar? What's this Omar you have embroidered here?”
    “Your grandmother made you plenty of booties when I was a little girl. I was merely passing on the tradition. One that I won't hold my breath you'll continue.”
    Oh, this vacation is going to be good, Cara thought. A full three weeks helping her parents get the house ready for sale, and listening to poor Ruthie dig about her lack of grandchildren, was going to be a slow, agonizing death.
    It was times like this she could throttle her brother for becoming a priest and dropping all the procreation pressure on her shoulders.
    “And Omar,” Ruthie continued, “is the name I picked out for your first born son. What can I say? I had a thing for Dr. Zhivago.”
    “You were already naming my kids!? Omar?” She mouthed the name with disgust.
    “You didn't like Dr. Zhivago?”
    Cara drew in a deep cleansing breath of salted sea air, wondering how she could have been born to this crazy family. This was going to be an extremely long three weeks.
    Ruthie plucked out an old birthday card from the box and read it. “Devin Michaels. Mmmm. Now that's a name I haven't heard you speak in a long time.” Turning it over, she read the ink staining the back and squealed in delight, practically jumping from her seat. “Devin proposed to you!”
    “What are you talking about? He did not.”
    “On your birthday card. He proposed!” Ruthie sputtered, “How come you never told me about this?”
    “Let me see that.”
    Cara nabbed the card from her mother and speed read the note, smiling
    I, Devin Michaels, agree to marry you,
    Cara Cavarlho should both of us still
    be single at age thirty-five.
    Signed: Devin Michaels
    “I remember this.” The memories poured back one by one. She and Devin had just toasted her birthday. After sneaking out on her own birthday party, they sat on the concrete ledge of the watchtower at Gooseberry Point, watching the midnight moon, drinking cheap wine illegally, and toasting to their future success.
    She had been lamenting about Manny leaving for the seminary and the predicament he'd left her with regarding her mother's future grandchildren. If she dared to remain single—which, given her lofty career goals, she'd whole-heartedly planned to be at age thirty-five—Ruthie was sure to hound her for the rest of her life. Or at least until menopause, whichever came first.
    Devin joked that he would be chivalrous and rescue her from being eternally damned by her mother. What was nothing more than a little joke between two friends was now coming back to haunt her.
    Cara couldn't help but smile, remembering the boy, the friend Devin had been. They'd been inseparable that summer. There’d always been something special about Devin. Something just a little bit more…
    “Devin always had a thing for you, you know.” Ruthie raised her eyebrows and shined her matchmaking smile.
    “Thirty-five seemed so old to us back then.”
    “Still is when you're single, dear,” Ruthie returned.
    Some things never change.
    Cara rolled her eyes. “We were just kids, Ma.”
    Kids or not, back then they thought they knew everything. Most of all, what they wanted in life. Devin was going to take on the world as a lawyer. From the little bits and pieces she'd heard over the years from people back home, and news coverage on the tube of the highly publicized cases he'd won, he'd done just that, as a prominent Manhattan defense attorney.
    Winning one highly publicized case he'd taken straight out of law school, one that the prosecution as well as the world thought he'd lose hands down, had propelled him into the most exclusive law firm in Manhattan. It hadn't taken him long to make a name for himself and become a much sought after, multi-million dollar baby of law.
    Cara had her own plans in which marriage had no part. She had to admit pride in the fact that, like Devin, she'd reached the pre-set goals made that fateful summer. She had worked hard and become a home interiors expert, opening her own successful shop in the posh Back Bay area of Boston nearly ten years earlier.
    Looking at her mother's bright expression, and knowing what conclusions she'd already drawn, Cara said, “This was a joke, Ma.”
    “It's in black and white.”
    “Blue and white.”
    “How many assistants have you lost to motherhood already?”
    “Four,” Cara sputtered.
    “In a month or so, Louise will make five.”
    The heaviness of her mother's statement hit Cara hard. Especially in light of the feelings she'd been having of late. Forcing the thoughts away, she tossed out the usual response she used when her mother started this line of conversation.
    “That's why I’m not getting married. In case you hadn't heard, barefoot and pregnant went out long ago, Ma. Women have careers now.”
    “That may be so, but look me. I was so thrilled when you were born, I never once regretted leaving my catering business behind.”
    “My point exactly. You gave it up.”
    Ruthie scowled and snatched the card back, holding it to her chest as if it were the only hold she had on getting any future grandchildren. “That’s right. The women of your generation want it all.”
    “You say it like it’s a dirty word.”
    “It feels like it when I have no grandbabies to spoil. Mark my words. I may just get to see your father walk you down the aisle before I die after all. I think you should call Devin.”
    Cara cocked her head to one side and blinked hard, trying her best to gather up her control. “I haven't heard from Devin in over fifteen years! I doubt he hardly remembers me.”
    Even as she said the words, she knew it wasn’t true. She and Devin had been inseparable. Warmth spread from the center of her chest outward just thinking of their friendship. It had been a long time since she’d thought about Devin.
    Ruthie gasped. “Don’t be ridiculous! Devin would never forget you. If I know Devin, he’ll keep his word. He’ll honor this marriage contract,” Ruthie continued, as if she were in her own world.
    “You must have some feelings for him or you wouldn’t have kept his card all this time.”
    “I didn’t even know it was there.”
    “We’ll see.”
    The way her mother clutched the card, fanning herself from mid-day August heat, Cara knew this was only the beginning. These next three weeks were going to be the longest weeks of her entire life.
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Good Reads Review

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