#Bookblast: In Deep and In Deeper by Kella McKinnon

Hello everyone!  Let me introduce myself.  Though I used to work in Boston in the biotech industry, I’m now loving life on a small farm in New England where my husband and I are raising our three children and lots of animals.  Between taking care of chickens and goats and shuttling the kids to dance class and piano lessons, I find the time to pursue my own interest: writing.  I relish creating stories and bringing my characters to life on the written page, and each book is a labor of love.  

I’m passionate about the romance genre because of the emotional journey a well-written novel can take the reader on, and my goal with each of my books is to do the same for my readers.  I would love to hear from you at kellamckinnon.com, or kellamckinnon@gmail.com.

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Blurb:

“I never thought it would go this far… that a man with such terrible secrets would steal my heart and make me want him so much, when his life of danger and lies should have made me want nothing more than to turn and run. I understood him, you see. I knew that beneath all of that money and power, and yes… violence, was a man in desperate need of love. So desperate that he took from me something I wasn’t ready to give: my future.”

Brielle Dalton thought the few months in Vegas she needed to finish her dissertation would also be a chance to have some fun before ‘real life’ took over. But she never counted on meeting Cristos Vicario, the irresistible but troubled owner of the Adagio casino. The attraction was instant and all-consuming, but in the beginning neither knew that their lives had crossed before, and the result had been nothing short of tragedy. By the time Brielle discovers who Cristos really is, and what he has done in a reckless attempt to keep her, it’s too late. She’s already in too deep.

In Deep
In Deeper

Excerpt:

He leaned closer.  “You smell like chocolate.”

               

“I had a chocolate martini with Alexis earlier.”

               

“I thought you were going running.”

               

“I did go running.  Then I met Alexis.”

               

“Just Alexis?”

               

I didn’t like his tone, it was almost accusing.  I got the sneaking suspicion that he had been spying on me.

               

“That’s none of your business”, I countered, suddenly a little annoyed.  Almost annoyed enough to take away his bonus points.

                

He pushed a hand through his hair and shook his head a little.  “I want it to be my business.”

               

“What is that supposed to mean?”  Did he want to control who I spent my time with?

               

“It means that when I’m seeing you, I want to have you all to myself.  I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

               

“We’re not seeing each other… you don’t date, remember?”

               

“Seeing each other is not the same thing as dating”, he said, pressing his lips into a thin line.

              

“Yes, it is.  And since we aren’t seeing each other or dating, you have no say over what I do with my time or who I spend it with.”  I had no idea why I was even arguing with him, because even if we were dating, I was only with Lexi and her friend Dex.  And Dex was only there for a few minutes after I arrived.

               

He went silent for a long moment, his jaw working as he hashed something out in his mind.  “I think I want to make an exception.”

               

“An exception to what?” I asked, exasperated.

               

“The no dating rule…  I want us to be dating.”

               

I looked up at him in surprise.  That was just about the last thing I expected him to say.  I wondered if this was just another ploy to get me into bed.  I also wondered if he’d make me sign a waiver first like Lexi had heard.  Really rich guys did that sometimes before they dated someone, didn’t they?  A kind of non-disclosure agreement in case of a bad break-up?  Or entrapment?  The thought almost made me smile but I bit my lip instead.

               

“I’ll think about it”, I said.

               

His jaw clenched tighter and he drew a breath in through his nose, as if he was trying to rein in his temper.  “Come on, I’ll buy you a coffee.”

               

I grinned at him.  “You’re forgiven.”

               

He laughed and took my hand, leading me away to the nearest Starbucks.  “You amuse me to no end, Brielle.  I like that.”

               

After coffee, he brought me to a really classy sushi place, and ordered a wide selection for me to try.

               

“You know, this is the third evening in a row you’ve taken me to dinner.”

               

He gave me a sexy look.  “That’s because we’re dating.”

               

“I haven’t agreed to dating.”

               

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t agree to. I say we’re dating.  In fact… I want you to move to the Adagio.  There’s a suite of rooms open on the floor below mine that would be perfect for you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.  “Uh uh, no way.  I’m perfectly fine where I am.”

“Brielle, where you’re staying is dangerous, not to mention… unsavory.  I don’t want you there, not when I own an entire hotel.”

I rested my chin in the palm of my hand and gave him my most stubborn look.  “No.”

 

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#BookBlast: A Taste of Merlot by Heather Heyford

Born in the Northeast, Heather Heyford learned to walk and talk in Texas, and then moved to England. (“Ya’ll want some scones?”) While in Europe, Heather was forced by her cruel parents to spend Saturdays in the leopard vinyl back seat of their Peugeot, motoring from one medieval pile to the next for the lame purpose of ‘learning something.’ What she soon learned was how to allay the boredom by stashing a Cosmo under the seat. Now a recovering teacher, Heather writes love stories, feeds hardboiled eggs to suburban foxes, and makes art in the Mid-Atlantic. See more at HeatherHeyford.com.

 

Blurb:

Raise your glass and join Heather Heyford as she pours a second serving in her series following these headstrong wine heiresses in their quest to strike out on their own…

Merlot St. Pierre is struggling to break free from her family name. Her college classmates whisper behind her back that her passion for jewelry design is little more than a hobby, since she’ll always have her father’s fortune. But Meri is determined to prove them wrong, and with the help of a handsome jewelry buyer, she just may taste her first sip of success—as long as she can hide who she really is…

Excerpt:

Mark Newman’s family owns a chain of high-end jewelry stores, and he’s working hard to get out from under his aunt’s thumb and prove he has a good eye and a head for business. He’s certain Meri’s designs could be the next big thing, but he’ll have to convince her that she can use her famous last name to her advantage. As their business partnership takes root, an attraction begins to flourish—but they’ll both find that love, like wine, takes time to perfect…

Mark held the ring under the dangling ceiling bulb. “You’re right, this light doesn’t do much good at all. Here, let’s see how it looks on.” He lifted the fingers of her right hand and slipped the slender coil over her knuckle. “The vine motif is brilliant, and you did a kick-ass job setting the agate. It’s contemporary, but timeless. It’ll look right on any woman, from your age on up to great-grandmothers.”

            But instead of dropping her hand, he surprised her by turning it over, bringing the center of her palm to his lips to kiss it as his eyes burned into hers through the gloom of the shabby studio.

            Mesmerized, she watched him plant more slow, lazy kisses all over her palm, trailing down each of her fingers to their very tips, bringing a shiver to her spine. She waited for the inevitable scowl when he noticed how rough they were.

            “That’s what years of manipulating metal on a daily basis will do to your hands. No matter how much I moisturize, it’s never enough.”

            “Hands that work are way more interesting than those that don’t.”

            When there were no more fingers left to kiss, he took both her hands in his. “You smell great,” he murmured. “Like roses.” The shop on the Champs-Élysées still shipped bottles of Maman’s bespoke fragrance to her daughters every year on the anniversary of her death.

             He bent his head to bury his nose in the lock of hair that fell near her jawline. She shivered and arched her neck to give him access. His breath on her skin made her tremble with anticipation. For what seemed like forever, all he did was gently nuzzle her neck and toy with her hair, twisting a chunky lock around his fist to kiss, then drop, only to pick up another handful on the other side, raising and dropping it, watching it fan out in the dim light of the studio.  

            “Where’d you get such beautiful hair?” he whispered. He wrapped one arm around her waist to ease her closer—but not close enough—and slowly, slowly drew his fingers through her hair from the top of her crown to the middle of her back in long, brush-like strokes. Tantalizing her. Provoking her imagination.  She wished he’d do more with those hands soon, because she was about to melt. And then, when she couldn’t have waited one more second, he closed his eyes and angled his head, barely brushing her lips with his, only to withdraw and peer into her eyes with half-closed lids. Those eyes. They were indescribable. Sexy. Kind. All-knowing. The eyes of a hot young man with a wise old soul.

            He turned his head the other way and lightly kissed her a second time . . . and to her ever-building frustration, pulled back yet again. She gave him a desperate, searching look. What was he doing, torturing her like this? He smiled. He was enjoying teasing her.

            Enough. Merlot tore her hands from his, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him squarely on the mouth. In response, he took possession of her, enveloping her tightly in his arms. Their bodies came together perfectly, hip to hip, breast to breast, mouth to mouth—thanks to those four-inch pink wedges. She felt empowered, up there at his height. She leaned in with her chin, expertly—if she said so herself—sucking his lower lip into her mouth.

            Again, he pulled away—but then surprised her by taking her chin firmly. “Is that how you like it?” But she could no longer speak. He delved into her mouth with his tongue and explored her until she was panting. “Like that?” Then he did it again.

            When she was dizzy, her lips swelling from the friction, he broke off and half-opened his eyes, pressing his forehead to hers, his warm breath fanning her face, his heart pounding hard against her chest.

            He raised his head to gaze at her yet again, and his eyes had changed. The green was gone, replaced by jet-black disks of desire. “You okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse with passion.

            “No.”

            Concern washed over his face.

            Meri had experience with the opposite sex. Way more than she cared to remember. She knew what came next.

Heather Heyford will be awarding one e-book copy of A Taste of Merlot to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

 

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