Keeping Kinley by Annette K. Larsen #BookTour

Keeping Kinley by Annette K. Larsen

He’s noble. She’s common. It’s complicated.
Kinley is content with her common life until a chance meeting with an old friend—a noble—brings the possibility of love. Though Rylan pursues her with a charming carelessness, she doesn’t dare hope that their relationship will be accepted. When Kinley’s livelihood is threatened, she is thrust into his world as a servant, but the Rylan she encounters there isn’t the quirky friend she thought she knew. Can she trust him, or will she be forced to accept that her dreams are only that—dreams?


My breath caught as soon as he said the name and my eyes searched his features, looking for the little boy I had known in the man that stood before me. “Rylan?” I breathed and he nodded, still with that familiar grin in place. “Oh…my,” was all my idiot brain could say as I took in his fine horse and his fine clothes and his fine eyes.
I probably still had pear juice on my face.
“How are you, Miss Kinley?” he asked with the same light in his eyes that he used to have whenever he would tell me about his favorite part of a lesson.
“I am…well,” I answered in a breathless sort of stuttering. “Very well, thank you. I hope all is well with you and your family. How are Lord and Lady Baylor?”
“My father runs his business affairs with an iron fist and my mother coddles the staff, so everything is as it should be.” He grinned.
“Good.” I had to ignore the grin so that I could speak. “And Master Welsley and Tayana?”
“Welsley takes life too seriously, but is ready to take over for father at a moment’s notice. Tayana is soon to be married.”
“Good, good. That’s very good.” It was so very awkward to be standing in front of this man who had befriended me as a child. How was I supposed to act?
“And what of your family?” he asked eagerly. “It was your brother, was it not? That married…”
“Princess Ariella, yes.” No one seemed to be able to say it out loud, worried that if they were wrong, I’d somehow be offended. I was used to finishing the thought.
He gave a crooked smile. “That must have been an interesting adjustment.”
I laughed, surprised at how succinct that description was. “It was a surprise and an adventure, and I really do adore her.”
“I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting her, but everyone seems to have an opinion one way or the other.”
“I can only imagine.” While most of the common folk had accepted Ella and Gavin, I knew that the nobility had not been so easily convinced when she’d stooped to marry a commoner.
He smiled, so casual, so comfortable.
I felt the need to fill the silence. His horse bobbed its head, trying to get Rylan’s attention. I pointed to him. “And who is this?”
He reached up, stroking the horse behind its ear. “This is Apollo. Say ‘Good day,’ old man.”
The horse actually nodded its head up and down. I was reminded of Herman, who I had abandoned.
“I should go.” I gestured awkwardly down the lane. “It was a pleasure seeing you.”
“Wait, can I see you tomorrow?”
My confusion made the corner of my mouth quirk up. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I’d like to speak with you again,” he said as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Oh, um.” He was nobility, and I was decidedly not. “I have to get Herman. My pony, he’s—” I pointed behind me as if that would explain my inability to speak coherently, then turned to walk back the way I had come.

Author Annette K. Larsen

I was born in Utah, but migrated to Arizona, Missouri, and Virginia before settling in Idaho.
Though I dabbled in writing throughout school, being an author seemed like an unattainable dream. It took me seven years to write my first book, Just Ella. During that time, I taught myself how to write a novel. Not the most time effective method, but it gave me an education I wouldn’t have received from a class or a how-to book. Something about the struggle of writing without a formula or rules worked for me.
I write clean romance because I love it. Jane Eyre is the hero of my youth and taught me that clinging to your convictions will be hard, but will bring you more genuine happiness than giving in ever can.
I love chocolate, Into the Woods, ocean waves, my husband, and my five littles. And I love books that leave me with a sigh of contentment.

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Ends 3/9/17

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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

The Rise of Miss Notley by Rachael Anderson #ReleaseBlast @toobusyreading

The Rise of Miss Notley by Rachael Anderson

When Miss Coralynn Notley’s father barters her off to the first titled gentleman to come along, she realizes she must flee her home or be forced to wed a despicable man. Driven by desperation, she applies for the position of housekeeper at Tanglewood Manor, the home of the handsome Mr. Jonathan Ludlow. The moment Jonathan sees Miss Notley, he is intrigued. She is far too young and inexperienced, yet there is something about her that that inspires a certain hope within him. Does he dare offer her the position of housekeeper or will doing so result in catastrophe?


Cora nodded and followed Mr. Ludlow into the parlor. He closed the doors and stood in front of them with his arms folded, looking far more intimidating than he had during their last meeting. He said nothing, merely lifted an inquiring eyebrow and waited.
Caught unprepared, Cora stared at him, trying to organize her thoughts into words. After a few moments of awkward silence, he lost patience. “What is it you wished to speak with me about, Mrs. Notley? Or are we to stand here staring at each other all afternoon?”
Not knowing how else to begin, Cora blurted, “Why have you hired me, sir?”
He blinked a few times before frowning. “I believe I have made that perfectly clear. You are to be the housekeeper, are you not?”
This was going to be more difficult than she had imagined. “Yes, of course, but there has been some talk about, or rather concerns expressed . . .” How did one put this delicately?
“About . . .?” he prodded, obviously not thrilled that his morning regime had been waylaid.
“About the reasons I have been offered the position,” she quickly said, hoping that would be enough to make him understand her meaning.
Unfortunately, his brows drew together in confusion. “What are you saying, Mrs. Notley? I have hired you to do certain duties that will hopefully make my household run more smoothly. What other reason could I possibly have for offering you the position?”
“You have hired me to do a job I am untrained to do,” she said. “While I am grateful for the opportunity, I also find it necessary to clarify that I have come here to be a housekeeper and only a housekeeper. Even though I am young and . . .” Her voice drifted off. Had she almost referred to herself as pretty? Goodness, this was proving to be very awkward indeed.
“Beautiful?” he finally guessed, not looking at all pleased with the direction the conversation was taking.
“I was going to say not repulsive,” she fibbed.
“Very well,” he said. “Even though you are young and not repulsive . . .” He moved his hand in a circular gesture, urging her to finish her thought.
Cora straightened her shoulders and forced herself to continue. “I am not the sort of girl who would ever . . . fraternize with her employer.” Her face infused with heat, but she forced her gaze to remain steady.
“I see.” He walked slowly towards her, rubbing his chin with his hand. A few steps away, he stopped and eyed her quizzically. “Have I made any improper advances towards you?”
“No, sir.”
“Have I spoken to you in an unprofessional manner?”
“Have I looked at you in a way that has made you feel uncomfortable?”
“No.” Cora suddenly wished she had not felt the need to clarify anything. He made her feel as though she had put the cart before the horse when what she had been trying to do was see that the cart and horse simply stayed in their proper places. Was that so wrong?
“Might I ask who, exactly, has led you to believe that I am the sort of man capable of—how did you put it? Fraternizing with my help?”
“I, er, would rather not say, sir.” Though Cora felt no loyalty towards Sally, she refused to bring Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd’s names into the conversation. “I did not mean to besmirch your name or cause any offense, Mr. Ludlow. I merely wanted to make my feelings on the matter clear.”
“And you have.”
“Good.” Cora dropped into a quick curtsy, anxious to get away. “I shall go and find Watts now.”
She was almost to the door when his voice stopped her. “Once again, you are attempting to scuttle away before we have completed our conversation.”
Slowly, she turned around and lifted her eyes to his. “I never scuttle, sir.”
“What would you call that rapid walk of yours?”
“A rapid walk.”

RachaelAuthor Rachael Anderson

A USA Today bestselling author, Rachael Anderson is the mother of four and is pretty good at breaking up fights, or at least sending guilty parties to their rooms. She can’t sing, doesn’t dance, and despises tragedies. But she recently figured out how yeast works and can now make homemade bread, which she is really good at eating.


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Ends 3/15/17

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Gift Code or Paypal Cash. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

Forgotten Trails by Bonnie Paulson #BookBlast @bonnierpaulson @PromoBookTours

forgottentrailsforgotten_trails_ebook_jpgWhen a Native American Salish woman seeks out her past, she must challenge her beliefs in herself and her family or lose her chance at love.

Rachiah has always prided herself in her heritage in the Salish community in northwestern Montana. When she finds out her dad isn’t her biological father, Rachiah determines it’s time to find out the truth everyone has kept hidden.

Damon has hurt a girl like Rachiah in the past. His need to make it up to her and assuage his guilt overwhelms him, forcing him to pursue a friendship with Rachiah when her aloofness would normally discourage him from trying further.

Will Damon’s need to fix his guilty past mess with Rachiah’s need to find herself? Or will they both diminish into the forgotten world of what-ifs and ranches?

Grab the next installment of the Montana Trails series and get roped into a family saga worth risking your heart for.

Buy on Amazon / Barnes and Noble / Kobo / iBooks

Start the series for FREE – Broken Trails – Amazon / iBooks / Kobo / Barnes and Noble

Real people, real loss, real love. Bonnie
Bonnie focuses on the emotional thrill of the romance, the discovery of self and the dynamic forces at play to both pull and push love growth.
With 6 children and her own eternal romance at home, Bonnie lives her own dream every day. She’s spoiled with blessings and wants to share the joy of ever-after possibilities with others.
Whether it’s a happy-ever-after or a happy-for-now, the emotions will leave you story drunk for days, if not years.
You’ll be able to say where you were when you closed the book.
Surviving all things real and coming out better on the other side.

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Facebook / Website/ Twitter / Goodreads / Newsletter/ Literary Addicts / AmazonI love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl

SWEET HAVEN by Shirlee MCCoy @TastyBook Tours @shirlee_mccoy #Giveaway

SWEET HAVEN by Shirlee MCCoy

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Sweet Home #1
Shirlee McCoy
Released February 23rd, 2016
Zebra: Kensington
In Benevolence, Washington, the
Lamont family’s irresistible handmade chocolates are a cherished tradition–and
always a reason to celebrate. And now they’re giving the three Lamont sisters,
one by one, delicious chances to start again, make a change, and have their
sweetest dreams come true…
Neighbors who care, a peaceful
routine–accountant Adeline Lamont is glad some things about her beloved
hometown never change. But when her grandfather is injured, she has to run the
family store, Chocolate Haven, and make its legendary fudge. Trouble is, she
can’t get the recipe right to save her life–or Chocolate Haven. And she
doesn’t need her ornery new tenant, Sinclair Jefferson, stirring up the pot
with his help–and daring Addie to taste her wild side…
Once Sinclair gets his hapless
brother back on track, he’s leaving Benevolence for good this time. He’s made
his life far away from his irresponsible family and their scandals. Trouble is,
he can’t quite stay away from Addie’s optimism, enticing plus-size curves, and
kindness to those who need it most. But they don’t seem to have a thing in
common–except that Addie’s passion for chocolate, and for Benevolence, is just
as contagious as Sinclair’s passion for her. Maybe small-town life has its
charms after all…

Adeline dreamed of chocolate.

Gobs of it. Dripping off the counter, spilling onto the floor, bubbling over pots and pans. Tiny running through the mess, the tangerine dress clutched in his mouth.

She woke with his scruffy muzzle in her face, his dark eyes staring into hers.

“Go away.” She moaned, flipping onto her stomach and pulling the pillow over her head. Before Tiny, she’d always set her alarm for seven. After Tiny, the alarm clock had been destroyed, chewed up while Adeline was in the shower one morning. She’d have bought a new one, but Tiny had taken its place, waking her at the edge of dawn every morning, his hot puppy breath fanning her face.

He whined, shoving his ninety-pound body closer and pawing at the pillow.

“You’re a menace. You realize that, right?” she muttered, shoving the covers aside and getting out of bed.

She yanked on yoga pants and a sweatshirt, grabbed Tiny’s leash, and wrestled the puppy into it. Her cell phone rang as she layered the sweatshirt with a lightweight coat. She glanced at the caller ID. Granddad.

She answered as she walked outside. “Good morning, Granddad!”

“It would be a better one if we were both still asleep,” he responded, his gruffness making her smile.

“You’re always up at the crack of dawn,” she pointed out, Tiny scrabbling at the sidewalk, trying his best to get her to move faster.

Wasn’t going to happen while she was on the phone. She couldn’t run and talk at the same time.

“Only when I have something to do besides lying in bed staring at the ceiling and hoping someone will come visit me.”

“Better watch it, you’re starting to sound like a bitter old man.”

He chuckled. “Leave it to you to not give me a lick of sympathy. Your sisters? They were very quick to reassure me that I am loved and appreciated and that they’ll be here in just a few short days to spend some time with me.”

“That’s because they feel guilty.” She had it straight from Willow and Brenna’s mouths. They both felt bad for not being more present during Byron’s surgeries and recuperation, but neither felt guilty enough to come home sooner than May’s wedding

“They should feel guilty. I’m an old man, on limited time. It isn’t such a hard thing to understand that I want to spend as much time as possible with my family before I go.”

“Granddad, really, you’re wasting all this on me. Save it for Willow. She’s the one with the softest heart.”

He laughed. Just like she’d known he would. “How’s the shop-keeping coming, kid? That’s what I really called about.”

“About as well as can be expected.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m no chocolatier. You know that.”

“You could be. If you’d put a little of your heart into it.”

“I’m putting blood, sweat, and tears into it. Isn’t that enough?”

“Not when it comes to chocolate. That requires a little something extra.”

“Speaking of extra,” she interrupted, anxious to change the direction of the conversation. Byron was

like a dog with a bone. When he got his mind on something, he didn’t let it go. Lately, his mind was on her taking over the shop permanently once he retired.

“I’ve been using the recipes you keep locked up in the office. Are all the ingredients for Lamont fudge on the recipe card?”

“Why wouldn’t they be?”

“I just . . .” What could she say? That the fudge tasted okay at best and horrible at worst? “Wanted to be sure before I make it for May’s wedding.”

“Haven’t you been making it for daily sales? People love that stuff, Addie. They come from all over the world to get it.” An exaggeration. People didn’t come from all over the world. They did order it from all over the world. She’d gotten orders from places as far away as Japan and Australia. Filling those orders would be impossible if she didn’t figure out how to make the stuff.

God! Why had she ever suggested that Grandad expand to Internet sales? That had been five years ago, and in the time since he’d done it, Chocolate Haven’s profit margin had tripled. She knew. She did Grandad’s taxes every year. She also knew that without those sales, Chocolate Haven would be just another family owned chocolate shop struggling to survive. Her throat tightened on the thought, and she took a deep calming breath.

She would not drive the business into the ground. She wouldn’t.

“No worries, Grandad,” she said, trying to keep panic out of her voice. “I’m making the fudge.” It wasn’t edible. At least not compared to what Chocolate Haven usually sold, but she was making batch after batch of it.

“Well, that’s a relief. I can’t hand the shop over to someone who isn’t capable of running it.”

“You’re not handing the shop over to anyone,” she said, his words sending ice through her veins. She didn’t want to take over the business. Not today, tomorrow. Ever. “You’ll be back to work in a few weeks—”

He snorted.

“You will!”

“Addie, I love you like a flower loves the sun, but you’re delusional if you think I’ll be back in a few weeks. Once I get out of this joint, I’ve got therapy to do. Lots of it. Sometime after that, I’ll be able to work in the shop part-time. Only God knows if full-time work will ever happen for me again. The hip is bad. The leg is worse, and I’m just about ancient.”

“You’re not ancient,” she protested.

“You say that because you love me, and you don’t want to see the truth.”

She also didn’t want to have this conversation.

“Granddad, you’re the youngest seventy-five-year-old I know. You’ll be back full-time, feeling better than ever.”

“Maybe. In the meantime, you’re running that place for me, and I appreciate it.”

Running it into the ground.

The words echoed through her head as Tiny tugged her along the sidewalk. She didn’t have the energy or he heart to try to pull him back. She felt hollow and a little sad and more overwhelmed than she’d been the very first day she’d walked into Chocolate Haven knowing she was going to have to make all the chocolate, fill all the orders, keep the Lamont family legacy alive.

“You still there, doll?” Granddad asked.

“Just trying to walk the dog and talk at the same time,” she responded, her words thick with tears she wasn’t going to shed.

“How is that Tiny dog of yours?”

“Great,” she lied. “He’s learning all kinds of neat tricks.” Like how to drive the neighbors crazy, how to dig holes big enough to swallow cars. How to eat alarm clocks and wake her at the crack of dawn every morning.

“That’s not what your mother told me.”

“Mom doesn’t like Tiny.”

“She doesn’t like dogs. Me? I’m glad you got one. They’re good bodyguards, and a single girl like you might find herself in need of that.”

“Granddad, the only thing a person needs to protect herself against in this town is gossip.”

“Humph!” he replied. “There’s danger there, Addie. Danger that I keep warning everyone about, but no one is listening.”

“I’m listening.” And had listened, a dozen times since the accident.

“You may be listening, but you’re not believing,” he growled. “Of course, that’s better than what your mother is doing. By a long shot, it’s better.”

Uh-oh. This wasn’t going to be good. Granddad and Janelle got along great. Until they didn’t.             “What’s Mom doing?”

“Telling everyone that I’ve lost my marbles.”

“She isn’t telling people that, and you know it,” she protested. She wasn’t certain, though. Janelle had strong opinions about things. Currently, she was convinced that Byron had hit his head when he fell and that hitting his head had caused him some memory loss and confusion.

“She is. She told the doctor she thought I have dementia.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“From the doctor. Guy was asking me a few too many questions about presidents and birthdays and moon landings, and I wanted to know why. Your mother”—he nearly spit the word—“told him that she thought I might be having problems with my memory.”

“She’s just worried about you, Granddad.”

“Because there was someone in my apartment and I had the nerve to say it?” he demanded. He was getting riled up, heading back to the story that he’d been telling since he’d fallen down his apartment stairs—

someone standing in the hallway of his apartment when he’d returned home, his quick dash outside to call for help, the tumble down the stairs.

“You know that James McDermott saw you fall,” she said, her grip on Tiny’s leash a little tighter than it had been. Not because of the dog. Because of Granddad. They’d been down this path before. Several times, actually.It had yet to end well.


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Shirlee McCoy spent her childhood making up stories and acting them out
with her sister. It wasn’t long before she discovered Nancy Drew, The Hardy
Boys, her mother’s gothic romances . . . and became an ardent fan of romantic
suspense. She still enjoys losing herself in a good book. And she still loves
making up stories. Shirlee and her husband live in Washington and have five
children. Readers can visit her website at

I love this quote, Diana
“I’m wondering what to read next.” — Matilda, Roald Dahl