Book Nerd Revealed

Museum Sexcapades
Book Release Scorches NYC!

Callie Mallory takes a bite out of the Big Apple: Local citizens say sex-crazed crazies on the loose in Manhattan is nothing new! Metropolis mayor prays non-resident crazies return to their own homes to get publicly naked and act lascivious.

Fire Engine Company 6969 applauds Chef Mallory's private attempts to contact them and show her appreciation for appropriately managing her fiery loins.

Wanted in connection with the fire that ravaged the city's old Tenderloin District is a hunky man who goes by the name, Stephano Giordano. Last seen digging his long, wooden bat into a clay mound in Central Park, Mr. Giordano is believed to have pertinent information regarding the current whereabouts of Ms. Mallory.

NYPD Police Chief Richard Long promises no harm will come to the chef when she is apprehended. This is perhaps the most telling clue as to why the passionate, sassy famous TV show host refuses to expose herself and come forward. In a secret phone interview, when asked if she knew about the details of her warrant, Ms. Mallory was quoted as saying, "All I know is that if a group of men want to apprehend and handcuff me, then I expect them to use all their tools of persuasion while claiming me!"

If you've recently seen Chef Callie Mallory then please phone the manned-around-the-clock NYPD tip hotline. And if you, unlike me [yes me, her creator, Natalie Baum] and have any idea where this mouthy vixen has disappeared to, please go to Natalie Baum Romance or www.nataliebaum.com or https://twitter.com/#!/NatalieBaumSexy" target="_blank">NatalieBaumSexy and leave me a message.

To read all about Callie Mallory's saucy adventures pick up a copy of her latest book, Musuem Sexcapades, available at Amazon. And you can also visit Noble Romance to catch up on her first harrowing outing, https://www.nobleromance.com/Books/378/Callie-Mallory-Chicago-Adventure" target="_blank">Chicago Adventure.

And now on to the most important "THANK YOU!!!" of my day…Thank you, SAE, for so graciously hosting me on your blog. Suffice is to say that should I someday hit the Mega Millions lottery I will clearly owe you BIG TIME and this is your proof that I agreed to pay!

Oh, I almost forgot…if you have an Amazon Prime account and own a Kindle, check out Museum Sexcapades in the Lending Library for free.

Hugs and Kisses Head to Toe Everybody,
Natalie Baum

Guest Blog by Roxy Boroughs 

“Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them.” 
— A. A. Milne

Inferiority, alienation – we all suffer from it. Even the most secure people get a twinge from time to time.

My feelings of being different started in grade school. I was in and out of the hospital from the time I was 2 until I was 12. So I was always behind, always playing catch-up.

Teachers probably don’t do this anymore but, back in the day, one particular instructor put us into groups, rearranging our desks after each important test. The kids with the top marks would be the Roses. Next highest, would be the Lilacs. Then came the Daffodils, and on down through the list. The subsequent flowers were not as pretty, not as fragrant. Until you got to the students with the lowest marks – the Dandelions.

That was my group. And believe me, even at that time, I realized dandelions were weeds. Pests.

I found myself with five other kids – children who clearly had learning disabilities, some severe. I struggled along with them. And didn’t receive a whole lot of help from that particular teacher. Because, for some reason, we Dandelions were positioned at the back of the class. This made no sense to me. Wouldn’t you put the kids who needed help up front? Close to the teacher? No, we were the furthest away. Isolated.

Then one day, there was a big math test, which was hardly my best subject. When our papers were returned, I saw that I’d scored high. I didn’t realize how high until the teacher started moving desks around, and this Dandelion suddenly went from a weed to a Rose. I remember the surprise on the teacher’s face and him looking at me curiously, like I was a new unidentified species. I was still alienated, just in another way.

As it turned out, I didn’t stay with the Roses. I think the next time we had a quiz I slipped down to a Lilac. But I hovered around the more beautiful and fragrant flowers for the rest of my elementary school days. Still, that feeling of being inferior, different, has never left me. I think that’s what made me a writer, and compels me to tell stories about people who feel isolated, disenfranchised.

In the case of A STRANGER’S KISS my hero, Sam, is isolated by grief. A once successful lawyer, he’s devastated by the murder of his son. Hoping to gain closure, he traces the killer's roots to Bandit Creek, Montana. There, he finds Amy Tesher, a high school dropout. Lies are Amy's camouflage, all fabricated to escape the secrets of her past and protect her 11-year-old child, Renee, who is able to communicate with Sam's ghostly son. And the serial killer is hot on their trail.

I enjoyed writing this story and watching Sam and Amy, two lonely people who’d been through so much pain and rebuke, find reward in each other and fall in love. I hope, when you read the novella, it’ll come up smelling like a Rose.

PRAISE FOR “A STRANGER’S KISS”, part of the Bandit Creek Books series. Everything happens in Bandit Creek. http://banditcreekbooks.com

A Stranger’s Kiss
By Roxy Burroughs

BLURB:

SAM HUTCHINSON was once motivated by power and money. But after his son's murder, he alternates between losing himself in a bottle of scotch and researching James Ryan Morley, the still-at-large killer of the boy Sam never had time for in life. Broken and desperate, Sam traces Morley’s roots to Bandit Creek, Montana and an addict who once sheltered him.

There, against a serene mountain backdrop, he finds the woman’s resourceful daughter, AMY TESHER, and her eleven-year-old child, Renee. Lies are Amy’s camouflage—her age, her name, even the identity of her child’s father—all fabricated to escape the secrets of her past.

Unaware of Sam’s real mission, she takes him into her boarding house. Just as Morley returns to take possession of Amy...and her daughter.

About The Author:                                          

Before turning her attentions to writing, Roxy appeared in several TV commercials and movies. She writes interactive murder-mysteries for Pegasus Performances, had a prize-winning short story produced by CBC and published in Alberta Anthology, and co-authored the book Ghost Stories of Heritage Park, on sale at the popular historical village in Calgary, Alberta.

The novella A Stranger's Kiss is the stand-alone sequel to her book A Stranger's Touch, winner of The Writer's Voice Award.

* * *

"Roxy Boroughs has it all—humor, suspense, and the kind of raw emotion that makes romantic suspense worth reading. This genre has a bright new star." Lecia Cornwall author of Secrets of A Proper Countess, an RT Reviewers Choice nominee.

"Packed with romance, suspense, and a happily-ever-after guaranteed to leave you laughing and crying, A Stranger’s Kiss had me riveted from the opening page!" Julie Rowe author of IceBound.

Visit Roxy on https://twitter.com/#!/RoxyBoroughs" target="_blank">Twitter, https://www.facebook.com/pages/Roxy-Boroughs/209937022429302" target="_blank">Facebook, and her Website.

Cait Lavender is giving away 5 copies of her book - Hunter's Moon - and a chance for a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

Hurry here:

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/YmExMTJmZmM0NTczY2U4Y2JhMWU1MGJkZGZiMWE4OjMx/

To enter for a chance to win!!!

AMAZON

Hunter Moon
By Cait Lavender

Bawling cattle tore Shelby Flint from her bed. With lawyer fees to pay in her struggle to keep her ranch from the clutches of her greedy cousins, she couldn’t afford the loss of even one calf. When she sees a large wolf circling her cows, she aims and fires. While the wolf escapes, Shelby can’t seem to get away from her troubles when a marijuana grower sets up shop on her land, sabotaging her property and eventually coming after her.

Adding to that, a handsome game warden is poking his nose into her business and working his way underneath her skin. Shelby will have to fight harder than she ever fought before to keep from losing her heart and everything she ever loved.

Shelby Flint is a self-sufficient cowgirl and cattle rancher, but when a wolf goes after her calves, a man is murdered on her land and someone is sabotaging her property she can’t do it by herself any longer. In walks a handsome game warden, poking his nose in her business and working her way under her skin. Shelby will have to fight harder than she ever has before to keep from losing her heart and everything she ever loved.

Excerpt:

“Hey, have you heard anything about—wait, what? The fuzz is after me?” I sifted through my recent actions, but couldn’t remember doing anything illegal that would put a cop on my tail. “Wait, you’re not talking about Tyler, are you?”

One of her husband’s favorite pastimes was making me pull over without cause. I was always tempted to pull a stunt like I was on Cops and lead him in a high speed pursuit. But since I’d gotten out of a few speeding tickets by dropping his name, I guess it was a wash.

“What, Tyler? No, I wish he was this hot.” She leered. “The game warden stopped by about five minutes ago asking all about the girl who lives on the Flint ranch.” She waggled her eyebrows at me.

It was Jesse’s mission in life to set me up with a man. It was the bane of her existence that I’d sworn off cowboys. A cowboy hadn’t worked out too well for my mom, and that was pretty much all there was around Raymond. It was probably the only lesson I’d learned from my mother.

“I have to say, Matt Albert wasn’t a fan of Mr. Warden asking about you. Gave me one scary glare when I told the hottie where you live.”

“Oh geez. You haven’t told Matt I’d date him again did you? The guy’s dumber than a box of rocks!”

The Albert clan was huge in Raymond. Half the population was related in some form or another, and Matt had his eyes on me since grade school. I’d always chalked up his infatuation with me to the fact we weren’t related. Kissing cousins were so Alabama.

Matt liked to get drunk at the rodeo and pick fights. The one date I had gone with him I ended up with four glasses of Coors on my shirt and a bruise on my cheek where the other guy had elbowed me to get at Matt. That had been four years ago. He was either tenacious to the extreme or stupid, and I leaned toward the latter.

“Of course not. Especially if you’ve got Hunky McWarden in the wings!” I rolled my eyes at Jesse’s outrageous nicknames. It was never a good sign when she waxed poetic.

“Why do you keep saying that? I thought the game warden was an octogenarian?”

“Yeah, that was Bill Freedman, and he retired last month. Officer Hotstuff must be his replacement. Lucky for us! Lord knows we need an infusion of new blood around here.”

While that was certainly true, I wasn’t in the mood to play ‘The Dating Game’ with Jesse. “Oh quit it. I’d better get home if there’s a popo waiting for me. Wish me luck!”

I walked back to my truck and looked down at Reggie.

“Sorry, I forgot your hot dog. I guess I owe you one.”

He hopped in the back, forgiving as always and off we went. I wondered why the warden would be looking for me. I hadn’t hunted or fished in years, not since grandpa’s health went downhill. I hoped one of my cows didn’t get out. That could be a nightmare if it ruined property or someone hit it with a car. Great, that’s all I needed right now.

I saw the warden’s forest green Silverado when I pulled in, but no sign of the warden himself anywhere. I lowered the tailgate of the Blazer to let Reggie down and he took off toward the barn. I trusted his instincts and followed him and found an image I could use to warm the lonely, cold nights. On the trailer of alfalfa was a 6’4’ Adonis. The man, or god, who I assumed was the warden, had his shirt off while he was unloading hay. His fantastic shoulders were bare and rippling as he unloaded bale after bale of hay. His biceps flexed as he squatted to pick up another and bless him, I had a front row seat to his fantastic rear.

The warden couldn’t have been any older than late twenties or early thirties, and his golden skin just added to the Greek god effect he had going. Something stirred in me while I watched him work, something I had never felt before. Pure unadulterated lust. I wanted that man more than anyone in my whole life.

Irritated with my surging libido, I tamped down my unwelcome feelings as much as I could. I definitely didn’t need that kind of complication in my life right now. He bent over and picked up another bale and I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep from moaning. No man should look that delicious. I nodded my head in agreement with myself and continued to gawk. His shoulders were nearly twice as wide as mine, and his broad chest narrowed to flat, rippling abs and a trim waist.

In the ten minutes I supposed he’d been there he had almost the whole trailer unloaded, and it didn’t even look like he’d broken a sweat. If I’d unloaded that much I would have been a puddle of exhausted goo. I stood there, staring at all his assets, for a few minutes longer before I climbed on the trailer and started helping.

When I came up behind him, he stopped working and stared at me. His nostrils flared wide, but he didn’t seem surprised at my arrival. Unnerved a bit by his piercing gaze, I picked up a bale. He just shrugged and resumed unloading, maintaining a silence the whole time we worked. In between bales he brushed his dark brown hair off his forehead to reveal two eyes the brilliant blue of sapphires.

He looked at me for a moment, and then unloaded the last bale of alfalfa. I hopped off the trailer, suddenly needing distance from his cobalt stare. Without the hay bales to occupy my hands, they were itching to touch the ripples of all six of his abs. I stared at the ground, shifting from foot to foot.

“Thanks. I really appreciate the help. If I was by myself, this would have taken hours.” I handed him his uniform shirt that was hanging off the side mirror of my truck and glanced at the name tag. “Officer Newcomb.”

“It’s warden Newcomb, but you can call me Cash.” He put his uniform back on and I couldn’t help feeling a sense of loss. The fabric covered a spectacular chest with just a judicial smattering of curly brown hair that drew together in a fuzzy line that lead south. Talk about a happy trail.

About the Author:

Cait Lavender is a twenty five year old wife and stay at home mother of one in Central California. Living on a cattle ranch and raising her daughter doesn’t afford her much leisure time, but when she has a spare minute or two she loves riding horses, baking and reading everything she can get her hands on. She grew up loving the written word and creative writing and finally decided to work on her dream of becoming a published author.

She has a short story, Cowboy Moon, and a full-length novel, Hunter Moon, both available on Smashwords, Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

She’d love to hear from you on her Facebook author page, @caitlavender on Twitter or on her blog, www.caitlavender.com