I have a friend. Her name is Virginia Nelson. And her first Samhain book is out today. It’s called, Runaway Groom.
And it’s a hoot! Pick up a copy today!
He’s ready and waiting. She’s wanting…but wary.
Watkin’s Pond, Book 1
The groom is back in town.
Abigail lost her best friend years ago when he ditched her at the altar like a loaf of stale bread. Now he’s back and determined to do whatever he has to—even lie, apparently—to get under her skin. Although he makes her hormones rev to life in a way that no one has since he left, she is equally determined not to fall for his boy-next-door charm.
His bride-to-be is somewhat reluctant.
Braxton Dean was too young and stupid to know better when he walked away. Years of trying to fill the Abby-shaped hole in his heart have left him empty, and now he’s going to win back his girl—or get over her. But first he needs answers. Particularly why she never responded to any of his letters.
It might take a whole town to make this wedding happen.
With the help of their friends, the two battle it out. The army? An entire town of busybodies. The prize? Happily ever after.
Warning: Contains indignant old ladies, steamy sex (but not with indignant old ladies), seduction cake, and condom bouquets. Yes, we went there.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Runaway Groom:
July 7, 2005
I’m sitting in a diner in the desert. The sun peeking over the mountain lights up everything in these reds so bright they almost hurt the eyes. You’ve never felt a hot like this, all dry, nothing like the days that we went swimming over at Watkin’s pond…
I don’t really know why I’m writing you. I don’t have answers and right now you probably want them. I just know I couldn’t do it.
I miss you though.
Knuckles white, Abigail put her beat-up Ford Focus in Park, and glanced at her best friend. “I can’t do this.”
“Pussy.” Applying a coat of lipstick to her lush red lips in the mirror, Carnie shot her a glance. “You can do this. It isn’t like you’re about to face a firing squad. It’s just a bonfire.”
Shoving her hand through her short, pixie-cut brown hair, Abigail blew out a frustrated breath. “I would rather face a firing squad. If you ditch me to go running off with the new boyfriend…”
Carnie gave her a dirty look, tucking her red hair behind her shoulder. “I would never do that. I know how bent out of shape you get every time we go anywhere that Braxton might be. Really, though, it will be fine. The crap happened a thousand years ago. You’re adults now.”
Abigail didn’t feel like an adult. She felt like the rejected teenager even thinking of Braxton Dean.
It didn’t help that he’d become sexier with age. Heartbreakingly handsome, Braxton made her thighs clench with just a glance. She needed to remember the pain and humiliation rather than how it felt to be pushed into a bed by him. Better to remember the chest-constricting, blinding terror when he’d ditched her and vanished rather than remember his face a mask of unleashed passion and his green eyes wild with need. The former would keep her knees together.
The terror of that time—it wasn’t something she shared with anyone, not even Carnie.
Remembering gave her the strength she needed to peel her fingers from the wheel. “You’re right, of course. I can do this. No big deal. We’re both more mature now. He probably won’t even say a word to me.” The last came out a bit hopeful, even to her own ears.
“Yeah, at his birthday bonfire, he isn’t going to say a word to the woman he dated for years and ditched at the altar like a loaf of stale bread. Really, Abs, you need to get pissed off rather than feeling pissed on. You’re totally the injured party here.”
“He had his reasons. I’m sure he did.” Why was she defending his dumb ass?
“What reason could be good enough for that grand act of douchebaggery?” Carnie raised one well-plucked brow at her. “Besides, these are our friends. You need to remember why we’re here. He took off. He stayed gone. This is our town. You’re going to walk in there and show him what he is missing. Rub in his face what he can’t have.”
“I don’t know. He really wasn’t a jerk…not most of the time.”
“Let’s just go find Mike and the crew, and have a good time. All of our friends from high school are here and it’ll be good to catch up with them.”
Nodding, stomach still a bit of a knot, Abigail opened her door and stepped out into the muggy Ohio night. Stars hung like tiny lanterns above the recently mowed field and the sound of laughter carried on the breeze. The bonfire, a huge conflagration, was surrounded by what looked like hundreds of folding chairs, coolers and other party miscellany that beckoned Abigail onwards. Who knew? Maybe she would meet someone new and end up being really happy she wasted the extra five minutes to make sure everything was shaved and neat?
Carnie strode with her usual impulsive bravery into the melee. Abigail stuffed her hands in her jeans and resisted casting her head down to avoid any stares that might be coming her way. Instead she held her head high, but refused to meet anyone’s eyes. In small-town Ohio, everyone knew she hadn’t seen Braxton since that fateful day when he left her standing, flowers in hand, waiting for a runaway groom. Everyone knew that instead of marrying her, Braxton—golden boy and football hero—ran off to parts unknown, and she’d neither heard from him nor caught a glimpse of him when he’d come to town until a few weeks ago. He only returned home now to help his father with his tool store after his father’s stroke made it hard for the old man to get around like he used to.
Everyone watched to see how she’d handle it.
She wouldn’t give them a show to chew over for the next decade. She’d act like it was ancient history, like she hadn’t spent years wondering how a man could go from saying he loves her to leaving her to stand alone against a whole swarm of gossips with nothing better to do than tear her to shreds for being moronic enough to think he would stay.
She concentrated so hard on what she wouldn’t do, she slammed to an abrupt halt against a firm chest. His firm chest. Braxton. He smelled the same, damn him.
Even over the scent of wood burning, the ripeness of summer and the bitter tang of someone’s spilled beer, she inhaled his soap, familiar cologne and under it all, simply Braxton.
Her stomach clenched. Part of her wanted to smack him and demand answers. Part of her wanted to run away. Part of her wanted to pull his face down and kiss him because she’d missed him so much.
Instead she hid behind an armor of polite civility and gave a short, sharp nod. “Braxton.”
“Abby.” The word came out almost a plea. His eyes held a sad look she quickly identified. He pitied her.
Double damn him. “Happy birthday.”
And even though she promised herself she wasn’t going to give everyone a show, promised herself she wouldn’t feed the rumor mills…
The sound of her slap rang out across the field. Even in the flickering light from the bonfire, her handprint marked his strong jaw and she couldn’t ignore the pleasure it gave her. Silence seemed to spread across the night as he touched his cheek. Her mouth hung open, shock rippling through her as his gaze locked on hers.
“I deserved that.” The timbre of his voice seemed to stroke across her skin, stirring up a potent cocktail of emotions—lust, love, fury and pain. The worst part was disgust at herself for feeling anything.
“You deserve worse.”
Instead of arguing with her, which almost would have made her feel better, like it meant something to him, he simply nodded. “Wanna go somewhere to talk?”
About the Author
Virginia Nelson believed them when they said, “Write what you know.” Small town girl writing small town romance, her characters are as full of flaws, misunderstandings, and flat out mistakes as Virginia herself. When she’s is not writing or plotting to take over the world, she likes to hang out with the greatest kids in history, play in the mud, drive far too fast, and scream at inanimate objects. Virginia likes knights in rusted and dinged up armor, heroes that snarl instead of croon, and heroines who can’t remember to say the right thing even with an author writing their dialogue. Her books are full of snark, sex, and random acts of ineptitude—not always in that order.
A Welsh Wolf in Wellington blog tour
Since most of Sasha’s story takes place in Wellington, the compact and thriving capital city of New Zealand. I though it would be fun to feature a different part of the city – especially those mentioned in the book – on each tour ‘stop’. Come and join me on a truly unique virtual tour of Wellington J
Cuba Street is THE heart of Wellington’s nightlife. Clubs, bars, restaurants, fast food, movies, theatre… everything you might want, and all packed into a small area of town. Saturday night here is much like Saturday night in any city, except not so rowdy. Not so many arrests or violence. New Zealand is a polite society in general, and for the most part, its citizens look out for each other. A colleague of mine left her brand new Diesel jacket in a fast food bar the other week – and it was returned to her intact, still with her money in the pocket.
With two University campuses in the city, students descend on the myriad of attractions, fuelled by cheap booze and a party atmosphere, but even with snogging couples on each street corner, it doesn’t feel seedy.
It’s very different to what Sasha’s used to, and one of the themes in A Handful of Wolf is the idea of being away from home, and everything that’s familiar. Wellington has a huge and thriving population of shifters, but they behave very differently to the Snowdonia Wolves.
In this extract, Megan and her friends have taken Sasha to the nightclub Mighty Mike’s:
Megan handed him a shot glass of clear liquid. Tequila. He knew from the smell. He knocked back the drink while mentally calculating the state of his bank balance. Severely depleted after paying for the broken glasses earlier, and insisting on picking up the tab for dinner. He had enough for a couple of rounds for the girls and then he was broke until payday. He’d made one beer last while they were in Foxglove and he’d do the same here.
Sasha stuck by Megan’s side while she tossed down shots with the girls, and as she tottered on unsteady heels toward the stage. “Howlin’ Wolves are on next.” It took a moment before he realized she meant the live act. There were howling wolves all around, mixing easily with the very bohemian crowd. He felt like a hick. He’d never seen so many tattoos or piercings, and the way they knocked back their drinks made him feel distinctly uneasy. Shifters usually had a higher tolerance for alcohol than humans, but even these wolves were off their heads. How did Megan and her friends keep up? He clung to his half empty bottle of beer like a lifeline.
A Handful Of Wolf is available 25 November 2013, from Liquid Silver Books.
Sasha’s not a looking-to-the-future kind of guy, but he’s made an exception with his plans to travel and meet lots of pretty girls. Too bad his Pack Alpha, fate, and reality have other ideas about his trip abroad. He’s pretty sure he didn’t sign on to be a diplomat for the Snowdonia Wolf Pack. Or to find a Mate. Especially not a human Mate.
Megan knows better than to let a sweet-talking charmer get under her skin, but Sasha’s sexy playfulness is making her forget all her rules. Except one: she’s not willing to risk her heart by falling in love. The gorgeous boy from Wales can only be a fling, especially since her over-protective brothers hate him on sight.
In the midst of a wolf uprising, a hesitant Mate, and Megan’s complicated family ties, Sasha learns that sometimes impulsiveness is dangerous and even lethal. Can he show Megan why they belong together before it all comes crashing down around him and he loses his Mate forever?
I’m giving away 3 copies of A Handful of Wolf, to 3 lucky commenters across the tour. Just leave a comment at whichever site you visit, and you’ll go into the draw. The more comments you leave, the more chances you get to win J
Catch me blogging with Allyson Lindt at www.GeminiGirls.com
Blog Tour details
25-November – www.GeminiGirls.com
27-November – Silken Sheets & Seduction (http://silkensheetsandseduction.wordpress.com/)
27-November – Facebook Party!
28-November – Rosanna Leo (http://rosannaleo.blogspot.com)
29-November – Barbara Elsborg (http://barbaraelsborg.blogspot.com)
30-November – Love, Lust & Laptops (http://lovelustandlaptops.wordpress.com/)
1-December – CoverReveals (http://coverreveals.blogspot.com)
2-December – Daisy Banks Advent Calendar (http://daisybanks.wordpress.com/)
3-December – Sotia Lazu (http://justsotia.blogspot.com)
4-December – Lissa Matthews (http://lissamatthews.com/blog/)
5-December – Kimber Vale (http://kimbervale.wordpress.com/)
6-December – Tina Carreiro (tinacarreiro.blogspot.com)
8-December – Layne Macadam (http://www.laynemacadam.com/#!blog/cfxc/)
10-December – Laura Kaye (http://laurakayeauthor.blogspot.com)
Romance author Sofia Grey spends her days managing projects in the corporate world and her nights hanging out with wolf shifters and alpha males. She devours pretty much anything in the fiction line, but she prefers her romances to be hot, and her heroes to have hidden depths. When writing, she enjoys peeling back the layers to expose her characters’ flaws and always makes them work hard for their happy endings.