06 May 2022

The Alcoholic Mercenary by Phil Hughes Book Tour! #CoffeePotBookClub @Phil_Hughes_Nov @maryanneyarde @ p_l_hughes @coffeepotbookclub

 


Book Title: The Alcoholic Mercenary

Author: Phil Hughes


Publication Date: 30th April 2022

Publisher: PerchedCrowPress

Page Length: 350 Pages

Genre: Historical Crime


They said, See Naples and then die!”


Rachel had thought it was to do with the natural beauty of the place. A misconception she soon lost after climbing down from the C130 troop carrier. The suspicious death of her predecessor, followed by the murder of a sailor, and an enforced liaison with a chauvinistic and probably corrupt cop saw to that.


See Naples and then die!”


Some said the saying was anonymous. Some attributed it to Goethe. Still, others said it was Lord Byron, or maybe Keats. When the young brother of a mercenary hitman became her main suspect, Rachel leant towards Keats. Didnt the poet die here? Somewhere near, for sure. Probably coined the phrase on his deathbed.

And then, the cherry on the top of her ice cream soda, she could smell grappa on the breath of the mercenary when she interviewed him. The only thing worse than a violent man: a violent man who drinks.


The only thing worse than a violent man who drinks: a violent man who drinks and considers himself Rachels enemy.


Available on #KindleUnlimited


Universal Amazon Link: https://books2read.com/u/mlAvpZ

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B09V8XSP76

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09V8XSP76

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B09V8XSP76

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B09V8XSP76




Although educated in Classical Studies, Phil is the author of several historical crime novels. Having spent many years living in the Mafia infested hinterlands of Naples, Phil bases his novels on his experiences while living there. Much of what he includes in his stories is based on real events witnessed first-hand.

 

Having retired from writing and editing technical documentation for a living, Phil now lives in Wexford with his partner and their border terriers, Ruby, Maisy, and the new addition Ted. He writes full time and where better to do it than in the Sunny South East of Ireland.


Website: www.philhughespublishing.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Phil_Hughes_Nov

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PerchedCrowPress

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/phil-hughes-26aa5b1b/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/p_l_hughes/?hl=en

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Phil-Hughes/e/B01LXH4EGL

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/198016.Phil_Hughes

 




No Ordinary Hate by @whitneydineenauthor & @mj_summers_author Book Blitz and Giveaway! #XpressoTours @XpressoTours

 

No Ordinary Hate
Melanie Summers & Whitney Dineen


(A Gamble on Love Mom Com, #1)
Publication date: May 5th 2022
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Life in Hollywood is easy to hate…

According to Hollywood insiders, Harper and Brett Kennedy have the perfect family life—an image that has been carefully cultivated by an army of PR experts at Galaxy Studios. The truth is, their relationship has been on the rocks since Brett cheated when Harper was pregnant with their youngest child. Four years later, he’s still cheating, but this time with the nanny.

When the tabloids find out, a media frenzy ensues, all but making Harper and her kids prisoners in their Pacific Palisades mansion. Needing time out of the spotlight to regroup, Harper rents a cabin in the last place the press or anyone else would ever think to look for her—Gamble, Alaska.

There, she finds peace, solitude, and Digger McKenzie. Will the gruff lodge owner, who goes out of his way to make Harper feel like she doesn’t belong, realize he’s about to miss out on his one chance at happiness? Will Harper’s kids adjust to small-town life and heal from the chaos of their parents’ separation? Will Harper learn how to shoot a bear?

Find out in the deliciously funny and dishy first installment of the Love is a Gamble Mom-Com Series.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Dear Readers,

When I was just a wee lad of twelve, I, too, became embroiled in a love triangle. Me, Stacy Ferndweller, and Landon Post. I loved the sweaters Stacy wore—which at the time I mistook for lust. And Landon filled out a pair of red polyester gym shorts like nobody’s business. What was a boy to do?

I eventually decided to ask Stacy if I could borrow a sweater—baby pink with delicate chartreuse hearts all over it. I wore it to Landon’s soccer game and cheered him on like a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader. He was less than impressed.

After the game, Landon searched me out to delicately disclose his rampant heterosexuality. He broke my heart, but alas, not my nose, so I was grateful. I decided to set him up with Stacy.

It’s for this reason that I’m so attuned to the “two humans in love with the same man scenario.” But unlike Landon, Brett Kennedy is no hero. He’s a cheater and defiler of nannies. He’s a wild card run amok in the landmine of love.

I’m not sure there’s a gesture big enough for Harper to consider taking him back. Tip: A boombox on top of your car isn’t going to cut it, dude.

I’m skipping my workout today in favor of a good, old-fashioned mud bath. My aura needs a righteous cleanse.

Dish,

Ferris Biltmore

Harper

I hurt everywhere—my head, my eyes, my belly button. Reaching under the covers I discover that I went to bed in my jeans and the button is digging into me. Popping it open, I roll over and release a world-class groan.

“Ah, you’re up.” It’s Digger’s voice but there’s no way he’s here in my cabin. “I just put on some coffee.” How is he here in my cabin?

Memories start to filter into my consciousness and the heat of embarrassment washes over me. The question at hand is, how much of what I’m remembering really happened and how much did I dream? I say the only thing that comes to mind. “Hi.”

“Good morning to you.” He walks fully into the room before sitting on the bed next to me. “How do you feel?”

“I’m … um … not great.” Lordy, this is one gorgeous man.

“You and Moira really tied one on last night.”

Okay, so the memory about him picking me up and bringing me home is real. Now to figure out what happened after that. “So, did you … uh … that is to say … sleep here?” He smiles slightly while nodding his head. “In my room?”

“Yup.” Son of a … did he sleep in my bed? I can’t bring myself to ask. He watches me closely before pointing across the room. “Over there in the chair.”

Thank God. “Why exactly?” I’m having a devil of a time meeting his gaze.

“I was getting ready for bed when Moira called, and by the time I carried you here, I was wiped out.”

“I’m so sorry,” I mumble. “I’m not much of a drinker.” I chance a glance at him from under my lashes.

The look on his face is so intense it’s practically melting me from the inside out. “Clearly.” He stands up and walks out of the room while saying, “I’m putting your coffee in a thermos. You can drink it on your way up to the lodge.”

“No, thank you,” I call after him. “I think I’ll go back to sleep for a while.”

He walks back in, shaking his head. “You’ll feel like crap all day if you do that. What you need is some fresh air, followed by a giant breakfast to soak up all the wine.” He reaches his hand out to me.

I don’t want to take it, but I do. As he pulls, I moan. “I never get drunk.”

“Sometimes needs must. I’m guessing Brett was the last person you expected to see up here yesterday.”


Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Author links
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

--

Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally - then she'll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for 'K' Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn't require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she's not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken 'from above'. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something--more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

Author links
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram


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CHASE HER, Book Three in the COME FOR ME series by @kellyfinleyauthor Book Tour and Giveaway! #XpressoTours @XpressoTours⁣

 

Chase Her
Kelly Finley


(Come For Me, #3)
Publication date: April 21st 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense

Famous. Imposing. Mysterious. Daniel Pierce hides so much behind his A-list celebrity fame. Has that secret and that fame cost him the love of his life? The most incredible woman he’d ever met?

A force to be reckoned with, Charlie Ravenel was never supposed to fall in love with him—the one man she shouldn’t. While she followed no man’s rules, he convinced her to follow her heart. And him. Together they found a life of such promise, such passion… but also grave threats.

Did he commit the worst sin? Doubting her strength, her mission and her darkest fear? He loves her so much, he will chase that answer to the very end. Because their love was destined; a fierce desire they couldn’t resist.

And now the consequence, the collision of every force. A perfect storm. Of secrets revealed. Of pasts returned. Of the question everyone dares to ask…

Does love survive… even past our last breath?

CHASE HER, Book Three in the COME FOR ME series is a thrilling, steamy, romantic suspense novel that takes you to the very edge.

*This book is not for the fainthearted. This deep romance explores the dark theme of stalking.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

He scooped her into his embrace on the gym floor. “I’d ask you what’s wrong”—he wrapped his hand over her sweaty belly—“but I know.”

With every week of her possessed workouts, the swell had disappeared to her strong abs showing back through. But Daniel knew—this wasn’t about weight or vanity. Not his wife. She had none.

This was about the shooter.

For two months, Daniel had watched her. How, if she wasn’t smiling at the twins, she was lost in thought. What was she plotting? It concerned him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ll be okay.”

He didn’t believe her. “I know what’s driving you, but you’ve got to pace yourself. If you don’t, you’ll tear something, and then we’re fucked. The last place we want to be now is in hospital, not with this virus out there.”

The baby monitor he set on the bench cried out. He glanced at it. Caroline stirred. Of course she was awake again.

“I’ll get her.” She pecked his cheek. “You get your workout in.” She stood up from his arms.

“Fran’s got them.” He grabbed her hand gently. “Stay with me, just for a minute.”

He stood up, watching the monitor while he nestled her against his chest. Fran appeared on the screen in front of the cot, softly shushing Caroline back to sleep.

Thank God for that sweet woman. Fran gave them the breaks they needed. Charlie had protested at hiring a nanny, but he searched anyway and she was glad he did.

He called Fran for a phone interview from the hospital. She was perfect, from London, ending a job in Nashville with celebrity musicians whose teens no longer needed her. She had the experience and fifty-two years of wisdom.

Once Daniel explained to Fran the situation, fully disclosing the risk, she didn’t hesitate. She met them at the dock in Bluffton for the trip out to Daufuskie Island and hadn’t left since.

“See.” He nodded toward the monitor. “She’s got them.”

Charlie’s body relaxed against his, and a need, a tension started stirring within.

She had welcomed his hugs, his kisses, but that was all. He tried a few times after the six weeks they were told to wait. Fuck, he was desperate for her. But each time, Charlie gently removed his hand from between her thighs. Now, he didn’t even try, digging deep for patience instead. It was hard.

His cock didn’t receive the patient message, tenting his thin black gym shorts with a stiffy.

“I feel you, Sex God,” she murmured against his chest.

His hand pressed down to the small of her bare back. “I feel you too, Sex Goddess.” Her workout clothes always turned him on. Hell, she could wear a Hessian sack and make him horny as hell.

“I’m not ready yet.”

“Your patient husband knows that, but his lonely cock doesn’t.”

“Should I leave you here for a workout and to rub one off?”

“Only if you watch me… and you do the same.”

“You little shit.” She pulled back with a sly smile. “You tryin’ to tempt me?”

“I’ve got to. I know you’re not ready, babe, but I’m going to break my dick off wanking without you.” He meant it. It had been months, a lonely hell.

She sighed, eyes half-rolling. “I’m not trying to starve you. I know we can now, but I don’t feel like myself.” Pulling her body away. “I don’t know how ‘mom’, ‘wife’ and ‘Charlie’ come together now. It’s fucking weird. It’s like I’m out of my body and need to get back in it, but I don’t recognize it. And now… I’ve got this.”

Her gesture took his gaze, only turning him on more. Staring down at the pussy he missed, knowing its hidden beauty, he didn’t give a damn about a Cesarean scar, even though he hadn’t seen it yet.

“Good God, babe, you’re even more beautiful to me now.” His hand smoothed over her hourglass waist. “All I do is admire you and want you but you’ve been hiding from me for months.”

His finger lifted her chin, asking her eyes to meet his. “Let me at least hold you, in the shower, in our bed, with nothing on.” He kissed her lips, aware how his new beard tickled them, dusting over their sexy slope, confessing, “I miss us.”

They needed this. It was their connection, their love. The instant they met, the urge for the other was so powerful it overwhelmed their senses. The greatest desire thrilled his flesh from the moment he touched Charlie.

And he’d almost lost her.

He needed to cherish every inch of her, lavishing her with tender touches, fucking her so hard. He had no choice; he had to show her how much he loved her and would until his dying day.

“Even if we tried that, just being naked,” she said. “I won’t be able to relax. I don’t think I’ll have an orgasm again in this house, not with the twins and Fran down the hall.”

“Fran’s not uptight. Have you heard her talk? She’s an old-school feminist. I assure you when her wife can travel here from London, we will hear them down the hall.”

“Okay, fine. But what about the twins? Between Caroline, who never sleeps, and Duke, who demands my attention when he’s awake, I don’t get a second to relax unless I’m in the gym.” Her hand caressed his hard bicep. “It’s not fair between men and women. Your cock is a hot light switch, but my vag is a cold oven, it’s gotta warm up, and it can’t with all this baby stuff going on.”

That amused him. And challenged him. “Give me a chance, babe.” His lips climbed up her neck while he murmured, “You always switch my cock on, and you know I can melt you into the wettest heat you’ve ever dripped.”

He took gentle bites before she snapped her neck closed. “Fuck, your beard tickles.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Nuzzling into her, he made her squeal, squirming from his snatching embrace—a futile effort. He wouldn’t let her go.

“Quit it.” Her eyes twinkled. “Or I’ll tie you down and shave that thing off.”

He ceased the tickle, but not his smile. Fuck’s sake, he loved her like this. Laughing. Playful. Warming up to him, he could tell, her nipples pebbled under her sports bra.

His dirty mind devised a plan; his hard cock signed off on it. “I’m getting us an afternoon, alone, in the house for a few hours. We’ll just shower and cuddle, I promise.”

“How do you propose to do that?”

“Those two cherubs have grandparents on this island ten minutes away. Pop and Evelyn would jump at the chance to have them for a few hours. And Fran could visit with them or take the time to herself.”

“I feel like shitty parents sending our babies away for an afternoon so we can fuck.”

“Yes! Are we finally going to fuck?” That was all he heard. Not the “shitty parent” part, because that, he didn’t buy.

“I’m serious, Daniel. How does that look? We send our kids away so we can have an afternoon of sex?”

“Since when does my fit wife give two shits for what people think?” He gripped her hand. “I’m serious, Charlie. We’ve been through enough. If we don’t stay connected and strong as a couple, we are no good to them as Mum and Dad.”

“Quit trying to make that stick, Pierce.” She tongued her teeth, smiling. “I’m not gonna be ‘Mum’ and you’re not gonna be ‘Dad.’ More like ‘Mama’ and ‘Daddy’ in these parts.”

“You’re off your trolley. Fran and I will see to it that they have proper English accents.”

He teased her, relishing how it pissed her off, adoring when she fired back…

“Bless your heart, Pierce, and count heads. You’re outnumbered.” She wiggled against his cock. It was begging for her. “I’ve got you beat.”

Yes, she does, Pierce. Grinding on you. That’s your wife.

“So, it’s a plan then, Mrs. Pierce?” He seized her firm bum, pulling her harder against his raging hard-on, wanting to take her now.

“That’s not my name.”

Deploying the grin that inspired millions of thirsty posts, “It is when I’m fucking you,” he knew it wet her pussy too.

That naughty truth flashed across her eyes. The last time they made love, months before, he made her moan that name while rousing her with slow thrusts from behind.

“All right, Mr. Ravenel. Give my body a few more weeks to heal before you come at me with all this hard hotness. Then we’ll see if you get lucky.”

Breaking from his embrace, she delivered a swat to his arse before swishing out of the room. Minutes later, she appeared on the monitor with Duke, kissing his forehead before lying him down to change his nappy.

He watched the spectacle, a smile taking his entire being. Gawd blimey, I love her.


Kelly Finley is fiction author of contemporary romances featuring bada** women and grown-a** men. She lives in the Carolinas with her husband and family. A rebel with many causes, she fancies black leather, dirty jokes, and smart mouths.

Thrilled by a flipped script and ticked off by women portrayed as weak, she noticed how many steamy, sexy heroines were missing, particularly from suspense and military romance. Her friends shared the frustration and told her to practice what she has taught for twenty years. Her books feature characters we champion and love—ones with shameless heat, brave hearts, and whip-smart minds.

She's most likely at her keyboard right now, putting the next heroine on the page.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Pinterest


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How To Rope a Naked Cowboy by @anyasummersauthor Reveal! #XpressoTours @XpressoTours

 

How To Rope A Naked Cowboy
Anya Summers


(Silver Springs Ranch, #8)
Publication date: June 28th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

All she wants is a simple day outdoors to clear her mind and figure out a game plan for her life. After months of being little more than a reclusive shut-in, Noelle Addams forces herself to spend the hot summer day on one of the trails at Silver Springs Ranch. Perhaps the time outside will help her begin to mend her broken soul.

And yet, she never expects to come across a naked Tanner Ellis emerging from a secluded pond. Or, for the first time in months, since the night of blood and screams, to feel something besides fear and malaise.

Tanner was simply trying to cool off from the suffocating heat of the day. Running into the sultry Noelle in nothing but his birthday suit wasn’t in his plans.

But after a scorching afternoon in her arms, the scared beauty is in his blood. He makes it his mission to bring her out of her shell and help heal her battered soul. He craves her. Yearns to claim her.

Yet, when it matters most, will Noelle hightail it, or will she give them a chance at forever?

Add to Goodreads / Pre-order


Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.

Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Amazon / Bookbub / Instagram / Newsletter


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Champagne Widows by Rebecca Rosenberg Book Tour and Giveaway! #ChampagneWidows #RebeccaRosenberg #HFVBT @RebeccasNovels @hfvbt


Champagne Widows by Rebecca Rosenberg

Paperback Publication Date: February 25, 2022
Lion Heart Publishing

Genre: Historical Fiction


Triple-gold-medal-winning author Rebecca Rosenberg serves up a triumphant tale of talent and ambition, love and loss, betrayal and redemption, and accepting yourself and others for who they are.

Champagne, France, 1800
Twenty-year-old Barbe-Nicole has inherited Le Nez (an uncanny sense of smell that makes her picky, persnickety, and particularly perceptive) from her great-grandfather, a renowned champagne maker.

Her parents, however, see Le Nez as a curse and try to marry her off to an unsuspecting suitor. But Barbe-Nicole is determined to use Le Nez to make great champagne. When she learns her childhood sweetheart, François Clicquot, wants to start a winery, she rejects her parents' suitors and marries François despite his mental illness.

The Widow Known as Veuve Clicquot
Soon, Barbe-Nicole Clicquot must cope with her husband's death. Becoming a widow known as Veuve Clicquot, she grapples with a new overbearing partner, the difficulties of making champagne and the Napoleon Codes preventing women from owning a business.

All this while her father takes a military uniform contract from Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte, who wages six wars against European monarchs, crippling Veuve Clicquot's ability to sell her champagne.

Challenging Napoleon
Using Le Nez, Veuve Clicquot struggles through unbearable hardships and challenges Napoleon himself. When she falls in love with her sales manager, Louis Bohne, who asks her to marry, she must choose between losing her winery to her husband, as dictated by Napoleon Code or losing Louis. In the ultimate showdown, Veuve Clicquot risks imprisonment and even death as she defies Napoleon.

Available on Amazon

Praise

CHAMPAGNE WIDOWS awarded 2022 EDITOR’S CHOICE HISTORICAL NOVEL SOCIETY! "Barbe-Nicole is a strong, determined woman, who defies Napoleon to make her winery a success. Fascinating details about winemaking: soil, climate, barrels, bottles, and the various grapes. All this and more affect the smell and flavor of the wine. I could smell the wine along with Barbe-Nicole, since Rosenberg's descriptions are so vivid. The narrative is interspersed with brief scenes about the rise and fall of Napoleon, and the Red Man, a devil figure disguised as a coachman, who encourages him to conquer Europe. The most moving parts are where Barbe-Nicole harvests grapes along with other women widowed by Napoleon's wars." ~ HISTORICAL NOVEL SOCIETY EDITOR'S CHOICE

“This effervescent historical novel paints a richly detailed portrait of the enterprising Veuve Clicquot. The twinned plots of Clicquot and Napoleon Bonaparte’s rise and fall are filled with detail that give life to this far-off time. The prose is light, yet detailed, and peppered with moments of wry humor. Napoleon's characterization is well-crafted and give his character new life. Clicquot’s character is charming, and readers will love getting to know her. Rosenberg has a superb eye for blending humor with drama.” ~Publisher’s Weekly BookLife Prize

"Barbe-Nicole is captivating, particularly with her inheritance of "Le Nez" and the effect on her life. From grapes to pigs, the adventures she gets into with her nose are fascinating and are described in detailed and engaging ways. The champagne empire she builds is admirable, as is her relationship with Francois and its challenges. ~ WRITER'S DIGEST 2022

"For anyone who loves champagne, a must-read novel about Veuve Clicquot." ~ Judithe Little, best-selling author of The Chanel Sisters

"These first known women of Champagne/Sparkling winemaking may not have even realized how strong they were until they had to learn and do it all to survive for themselves and their wineries! Reading Champagne Widows makes it even more of an honor to learn a craft still dominated by men." ~ Penny Gadd-Coster, ExecutiveDirector of Winemaking, Rack & Riddle

"The sun-drenched vineyards of France, a real-life heroine who against all odds refuses to give up her dreams... and champagne. What's not to love? And that's just what Rebecca Rosenberg delivers in Champagne Widows. Barbe-Nicole Clicquot was a woman ahead of her time, a fascinating blend of ingenuity, heart, and sheer tenacity, with a nose for wine and a head for business. A 19th century widow who built an empire as war raged all around her. Note: This richly woven tale is best savored slowly, though with all delicious things, it won't be easy." ~ Barbara Davis, best-selling author of The Last of the Moon Girls

"Champagne Widows is a witty, accomplished novel, featuring a tough and charming heroine of the first order. One can't help but root for Barbe-Nicole, an astute businesswoman who brilliantly holds her own against none other than Napoleon Bonaparte. Although the events unfold two centuries ago, the story feels so modern, the characters could be your friends and neighbors. As easy to love as a glass of Veuve Clicquot, this may be Rebecca Rosenberg's best book yet." ~ Michelle Richmond, best-selling author of The Marriage Pact

"Champagne Widows is an inspired story based on the real-life Grande Dame of Champagne, Barbe-Nicole Clicquot Ponsardin, who built her famous champagne empire amidst the turbulence of 19th century France. Barbe-Nicole is my kind of heroine: a woman with passion, courage, family loyalty, and a killer business sense. Rebecca Rosenberg's sensual details make every scene of this intimate novel come alive. A true reading pleasure!" ~ Martha Conway, best-selling author of The Underground River and The Physician's Daughter

"Award-winning author, Rebecca Rosenberg returns with another Historical Fiction jewel in CHAMPAGNE WIDOWS. Meet the women who succeeded in creating world class champagne in a time men ruled business and society. Lovers of history, romance, and French culture will relish the multi-layered plot and cast of characters including the ultimate French icon, Napoleon Bonaparte." ~ Johnnie Bernhard, award-winning author of Sisters of the Undertow

"An epic story featuring love, family, and the sustaining power of courage. Champagne Widows takes the reader back in time for an intimate look at the building of the iconic brand Veuve Clicquot. In the aftermath of Napoleon's rise to power, Barbe-Nicole and her husband Francois share a vision of creating a champagne that will astound the world. Despite war, death, blockades, and failed harvests, Barbe-Nicole ultimately succeeds." ~ M.K. Tod, author of Paris In Ruins and award-winning blog A Writer of History

"Raise a glass to Veuve Clicquot and all the women from history to the present, who have broken the mold and overcome obstacles to succeed in all-male professions. Just as a champagne bottle pops bringing delectable flavors and delicious aromas, Rebecca Rosenberg delights the senses with her engrossing novel. She treats the reader to a perfect blend of history and story - with lots of champagne! Sit back and savor the tale of Veuve Clicquot. " ~ Linda Rosen, author of Sisters of the Vine

"Rebecca Rosenberg has penned a spectacular saga about the first "Champagne widow" of France, Barbe-Nicole Clicquot. With her gift, known as Le Nez (the nose), Barbe-Nicole can "smell the stink of a lie or the perfume of a pure heart. Or the heartbreaking smell of what could have been." Along with her expertise, she possesses courage and vision, overcoming incredible odds during the time of the Napoleonic Code, which left widows without property rights—in Barbe-Nicole's case, her Champagne business. Seamlessly interwoven with historical letters from Napoleon, the book sweeps the reader into the early nineteenth-century world. But it's her imaginative tale of Veuve Clicquot's personal life that captured me and wouldn't let go until the end, leaving me wanting more!" ~ Susan Cushman, author of John and Mary Margaret

"An independent woman of indomitable strength, determined to find her way in a man's world. Champagne Widows is vintage storytelling." ~ Jean M. Roberts, author of The Heron

"Rebecca Rosenberg transforms history into literary art. Her prose sparkles, bringing centuries-old characters to life with wit, heart and bon mots. Treat yourself to Champagne Widows, and marvel at Rosenberg's gift for making every sense sing." ~ Carol Van Den Hende, award-winning author of Goodbye, Orchid

"Like the best wines, Rosenberg's Champagne Widows will entice you with its complexity as it balances the story of a widow's determination to produce the world's greatest champagne in the face of Napoleon's path of destruction. If you love France, historical fiction, underdog stories, strong women, or wine, then pop a cork to celebrate this perfect blend of a novel." ~ Mary Helen Sheriff, author of Boop and Eve's Road Trip

****

CHAMPAGNE WIDOWS BY Rebecca Rosenberg

Chapter One

“Champagne. In victory one deserves it, in defeat one needs it.” –Napoleon Bonaparte

1

Le Nez

The Nose 


Reims, Champagne, France 1797


Grand-mère sways over the edge of the stone stairs into the cavern, and I step between her and eternity, dizzy from the bloody tang of her head bandage.

“Let’s go back. We’ll come another time.” I try to turn her around, so we don’t tumble into the dark crayère, but she holds firm. 

“There won’t be another time if I know your maman and her heretic doctor.” 

They drilled into Grand-mère’s skull again for a disease they call hysteria. The hole was supposed to let out evil spirits, but the gruesome treatment hasn’t stopped her sniffing every book, pillow, and candle, trying to capture its essence, agitated that her sense of smell has disappeared.

“This is how you know you are alive, Barbe-Nicole.” She taps her nose frantically. “The aromas of brioche fresh from the oven, lavender water ironed into your clothes, your father’s pipe smoke. You must understand. Time is running out.” Her fingernails claw my arm, the whale oil lamp sputtering and smoking in her other hand.

“Let me lead.” Taking the stinking lantern, I let her grip my shoulders from behind. Grand-mère shrunk so much, she’s my height of five feet, though she’s a step above. For as long as I remember, she has tried to justify my worst fault. My cursed proboscis, as Maman calls my over-sensitive nose, has been a battle between us since I was little. I remember walking with her through town, avoiding chamber pots dumped from windows, horse excrement paving the roads, and factories belching black gases. Excruciating pain surged to my nose, making my eyes water and sending me into sneezing fits. Maman left me standing alone on the street. 

From then on, my sense of smell swelled beyond reason. Mostly ordinary odors, but sometimes I imagine I can smell the stink of a lie. Or the perfume of a pure heart. Or the heartbreaking smell of what could have been. 

Maman complains my cursed sense of smell makes me too particular, too demanding, and frankly, too peculiar. Decidedly troublesome traits for a daughter she’s tried to marry off since I was sixteen. But why must the suitors she picks have to smell so bad?  

Grand-mère squeezes my shoulder. “It is not your fault you are the way you are, Barbe-Nicole; it’s a gift.” She chirped this over and over this afternoon until Maman threatened to have the doctor drill her skull again. 

The lantern casts ghoulish shadows on the chalk walls as my bare toes reach for the next stair and the next. I’ll have hell to pay if we’re caught down here. Part of me came tonight to humor Grand-mère, but part of me craves more time with her. I’ve witnessed her tremors, her shuffling feet, her crazy obsessions, which now seem to focus on my nose. 

As we descend, the dank air chills my legs; feathery chalk dust makes my feet slip on the steps. The Romans excavated these chalk quarries a thousand years ago, creating a sprawling web of crayères under our ancient town of Reims. What exactly does Grand-mère have in mind bringing me down here? The lantern throws a halo on grape clusters laying on the rough-hewn table. 

Ah, she wants to play her sniffing game. 

“How did you set this up?” My toes recoil from cold puddles of spring water. 

“I’m not dead yet,” she croaks. Taking off her fringed bed shawl, she ties it like a blindfold over my eyes. “Don’t peek.”

“Wouldn’t dare.” I lift a corner of the shawl, and she raps my fingers like the nuns at St.-Pierre-Les-Dames where Maman sent me to school before the Revolution shut down convents.  

“Quit lollygagging and breathe deep.” Grand-mère’s knobby fingertips knead below my cheekbones, opening my nasal passages to the mineral smell of chalk, pristine groundwater, oak barrels, the purple aroma of fermenting wine. 

But these profound smells can’t stop me fretting about Maman’s determination to marry me off before the year is out. I told her I’d only marry a suitor that smells like springtime. “Men do not smell like that,” she scolded.

But men do. Or one did, anyway. He was conscribed to war several years ago, so he probably doesn’t smell like springtime anymore. His green-sprout smell ruined me for anyone else.

Grand-mère places a bunch of grapes in my hands and brings it to my nose. “What comes to you?” 

“The grapes smell like ripening pears and a hint of Hawthorne berry.”  

She chortles and replaces the grapes with another bunch. “What about these?” 

Drawing the aroma into the top of my palate, I picture gypsies around a campfire, smoky, deep, and complex. “Grilled toast and coffee.”

Her next handful of grapes are sticky and soft, the aroma so robust and delicious, my tongue longs for a taste. “Smells like chocolate-covered cherries.”

Grand-mère wheezes with a rasp and rattle that scares me. 

I yank off the blindfold. “Grand-mère?”

“You’re ready.” She slides me a wooden box carved with vineyards and women carrying baskets of grapes on their heads. “Open it.”

Inside lays a gold tastevin, a wine-tasting cup on a long, heavy neck chain. 

“Your great Grand-père, Nicolas Ruinart, used this cup to taste wine with the monks at Hautvillers Abbey. Just by smelling the grapes, he could tell you the slope of the hill on which they grew, the exposure to the sun, the minerals in the soil.” She closes her papery eyelids and inhales. “He’d lift his nose to the west and smell the ocean.” She turns. “He’d smell German bratwurst to the northeast.” Her head swivels. “To the south, the perfume of lavender fields in Provence.” Her snaggletooth protrudes when she smiles. “Your great Grand-père was Le Nez.” The Nose. “He passed down his precious gift to you.”

Here she goes again with her crazy notions. “Maman says Le Nez is a curse.”

Grand-mère clucks her tongue. “Your maman didn’t inherit Le Nez, so she doesn’t understand it. It’s a rare and precious gift, smelling the hidden essence of things. I took it for granted, and now it’s gone.” Her wrinkled hand picks up the gold tastevin and christens my nose. 

A prickling clusters in my sinuses like a powerful sneeze that won’t release. I wish there were truth to Grand-mère’s ramblings; it would explain so much about my finicky nature. 

“You are Le Nez, Barbe-Nicole.” She lifts the chain over my head, and the cup nestles above my breasts. “You must carry on Grand-père Ruinart’s gift.” 

“Why haven’t you told me about this until now?” 

“Your maman forbid it.” She wags her finger. “But I’m taking matters into my own hands before I die.” 

I feel an etching on the bottom of the cup. “Is this an anchor?”

“Ah, yes, the anchor. The anchor symbolizes clarity and courage during chaos and confusion.” 

“Chaos and confusion?” Now I know the story is a delusion. “Aren’t those your cat’s names?”

“I have cats?” She stares vacantly into the beyond, and her eerie, foreboding voice echoes through the chamber. “To whom much is given, much is expected.” 

Holding her bandaged head, Grand-mère keens incoherently. The lantern casts her monstrous shadow on the crayère wall; her tasting game has become a nightmare. 

“Let’s get you back to your room.” I try to walk her to the stairs, but her legs give out. Lifting her bird-like body in my arms, I carry her as she carried me as a child, trying not to topple over into the crayère. 

“Promise you’ll carry on Le Nez,” she says, exhaling sentir le sapin, the smell of fir coffins. 

My dear Grand-mère is dying in my arms. Now I know Le Nez is a curse.

“Promise me.” Her eyelids flutter and close.

“I won’t let you down, Grand-mère,” I whisper. She feels suddenly light in my arms, but the gold tastevin feels heavy, so very heavy, around my neck.

****


 

California native Rebecca Rosenberg lives on a lavender farm with her family in Sonoma, the Valley of the Moon, where she and her husband founded the largest lavender product company in America. A long-time student of Jack London’s work and an avid fan of his daring wife, Charmian, Rosenberg is a graduate of the Stanford Writing Certificate Program. Her books include: GOLD DIGGER, the Remarkable Baby Doe Tabor, The Secret Life of Mrs. London, Lavender Fields of America, and the Champagne Widows series.

For more information, please visit Rebecca's website and blog. You can also find her on Amazon, BookBubFacebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Goodreads.

Blog Tour Schedule

Monday, April 18
Review & Interview at Passages to the Past

Wednesday, April 20
Excerpt at History from a Woman’s Perspective

Friday, April 22
Excerpt at Books, Ramblings, and Tea

Monday, April 25
Review at Book Reviews and More

Tuesday, April 26
Guest Post at Jathan & Heather

Friday, April 29
Excerpt at Historical Fiction with Spirit

Saturday, April 30
Review at Probably at the Library

Monday, May 2
Review at Rajiv's Reviews

Wednesday, May 4
Review at Reader_ceygo

Friday, May 6
Excerpt at CelticLady's Reviews

Saturday, May 7
Review at MTM Reads

Monday, May 9
Review at Tammy Reads

Friday, May 13
Excerpt at The Book Junkie Reads

Giveaway

We have 2 paperback copies up for grabs! To enter, please enter here
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Giveaway Link

The giveaway is open to the US only and ends on May 13th. You must be 18 or older to enter.


 

Pack of Secrets by Amara Mae Reveal! #XpressoTours @XpressoTours

 

Pack of Secrets
Amara Mae


(Celestial Artifacts, #1)
Publication date: September 6th 2022
Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy

As the daughter of the Seattle alpha, Grace is expected to carve out her place in a shifter pack still reeling from the horrors of war. Only Grace has two major problems with fulfilling her father’s expectations: she’s an omega—meant to support, not lead—and she was born with her inner wolf caged, unable to shift. Determined to become the asset her pack needs, she’s spent her life training to steal a magical artifact rumored to have the power necessary to release her wolf.

Unfortunately, things never go as planned.

The theft triggers an enraged guardian, one that her inner wolf can’t seem to resist, and Grace realizes she’s in way over her head. She’ll need the help of a small but capable team to journey to a foreign land and track down a mythical tree.

Easy peasy for an outcast burglar with a fractured psyche, right?

To complicate matters further, her father is acting weird, her best friend just made out with her, and she’s pretty sure a dragon is on their tail.

Across the world from the only home she’s ever known, Grace must face the questions she never dared to ask. Deadly secrets begin to unfold, and Grace will have to decide: Is unleashing her wolf worth risking everything?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / Google Play / iBooks


Amara Mae is a new adult urban fantasy author who has written additional genres under other pen names for more than ten years. Fantasy has always been her first book love, and she's researched and generally geeked out for years to build the Fractured Earth world which will be home to her Celestial Artifacts and several other series. She resides in the rainy Pacific Northwest, where she enjoys real and imagined adventures alongside her husband and their five boys and two dogs.


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