Spreading love

Spreading love

Thursday, December 15, 2011


I'm honored to be participating in the Stuff Your Stockings Christmas blog hop, a wonderful event set up by Drea Becraft. The person who has the best Christmas story will win an E-book copy of A Cajun Christmas! You have until now and Sunday at midnight to enter! http://thebloghopspot.com/event-page/.

Monday, December 5, 2011


Tis the season…yep the Christmas season.
I have most of my outside family already bought for but my children only a few things so far. I am so looking forward to seeing all the faces of my loved ones as they open their gifts.
There are tons of Christmas movies out there from classics to new releases but I have to say my favorite of all time is…The Grinch That Stole Christmas.
I loved the cartoon but my favorite is the Jim Carrey version. I thinks he adds just the right amount of comedy and seriousness to get the message across. And Cindy Loo Hoo is just the cutest little girl on the planet
So what is your favorite Christmas movie?
Visit Drea Becraft at http://dreabecraft.com
Also I have a Free Read (My Wish For Christmas Is You): http://dreabecraft.com/bookshelf/free-read/
The Real Saint Nic Buy Links ~ONLY $0.99~:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Real-Saint-Nic-ebook/dp/B0065KXCKY/ref=sr_1_6?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1321031003&sr=1-6
Barnes & Noble: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Real-Saint-Nic/Drea-Becraft/e/2940013556270?itm=5&usri=drea%2bbecraft
ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-therealsaintnic-637496-139.html
Aimee’s life changed one night, not long ago, when she staked a vampire to save another. Still reeling from that life changing night, Aimee decides to go home with Brenda, her best friend, for the holidays. She never expected Brenda’s brother, who comes off more like the Grinch then Santa, to have so many saint like qualities. Years spent alone, with no family or friends, plays heavy on her mind but Nic could possible be the one who changes it all.
has always been a sore spot for Nicolai. He’s the real saint Nic, but society has him all wrong. He’s no saint. In truth, he’s a vampire. Over the centuries, Nic has spent the holidays fighting off the ridicule from his younger brother and giving to those less fortune, not seeing his own worth. Until one mortal, brought home by his sister Brenda, changes the holiday and his outlook on life for eternity.
Is it possible that Nic has finally found his Mrs. Clause? When worlds meld, can Aimee find the happy ever after she once asked Santa for so many years ago, or is she doomed to spend forever lonely on Christmas?

With a flick of his hand, the lights next to the bed turned on as did a few lamps across the room. Once my eyes adjusted, I got a better look at the amount of presents. Hundreds, littered the room. The only space not filled was around the bed and a path to two doors in opposite directions. Red, green, and golds splattered the room in a festive show of color.
“You really are Saint Nic.” Astonished I tried desperately to keep my mouth closed.
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” Turning away from the presents I turned my gaze to Nic’s in question.
“Because I’m nowhere near a saint.” Brows furrowing Nic stared intently at the computer screen.
“Then how did you get the name?”
“That would be Jaysen’s doing. One day, not to long after I started giving the gifts, we got into an argument. I don’t remember most of what was said, after all, it was quite a while ago, but I do remember the comment was rather snide. To this day neither of us knows how it ended up outside our argument, but it still reminds me of that comment. Besides saints are deemed so because of the greatness they do for mankind all I do is give a few toys to some kids.”
Moved by the noticeable hurt in his eyes, a relentless knot twisted in my stomach. Though I still didn’t know him, the connection between us grew with each passing moment.
Whether it was hormones or the fact that we were supposed to be mates, I didn’t know, but I couldn’t stand to see him sad.
I scooted out of the bed and made my way to him, wrapping paper shuffling under my feet. Then, as if it were the most natural thing to do, I lowered myself into his lap and hugged him close. “To those kids you are the world.”
“That’s why I do it every year. Though not in the grand scale that everyone thinks. I try to help at least a few orphanages and hospitals each year.”
“See, you are a saint. Every year you create the biggest rush of hope and joy to the children across the world. Though you can‘t help them all, the small sacrifices you have made over the centuries have helped to shape our world and helps friends and families learn the true meaning of giving. Without you there would be no hope of a perfect Christmas. If that isn‘t the act of a saint, I don‘t know what is.”
With a grunt in my ear, Nic’s arms tightened around me as he buried his head in the hair between my shoulder blade and ear.
Pulling away slightly, I raised my hands and held of each side of his head. My fingers ran though the silken strands of his hair using that leverage I brought his head up until our eyes met. Leaning down I kissed his full lips with a slight brush of mine.
You are the best mate anyone could ask for. Speaking while our mouths were still fused, Nic sipped from my lips slowly.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Good Morning... Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy, an author at Rebel Ink Press, stopped by Sports Romance to discuss her upcoming release and her love of sports.
One of the most romantic things ever happened to me when I was just nine but it involves sports and since I’m a guest today on a sports romance blog, I thought I’d share. My sports back in the day included kickball at recess, hunting and fishing, and baseball games in our big side yard. Half the neighborhood came over to play baseball and when we weren’t home, the same thing happened next door to my aunt too.
One day I hit a foul ball which smashed right through one of the lovely bay windows of our aged brick house and into the living room where my mother happened to be at that moment. I didn’t scream or cry but I must have looked like a death angel tapped my shoulder because one of my buddies, Craig Churchill, shot me a funny look and asked, “Will you get in trouble for that?” Without any sense of drama, I said, “My mom’s going to kill me.” His lips curved in a slow, sweet grin I’ll never forget as he told me, “Then I’ll tell her I did it.”
With that Craig snatched the bat out of my hands and confessed to what he didn’t do. His noble act saved my rear end from a fresh cut switch and my mother never knew any different until I was an adult. She didn’t scold Craig the way she would have me if she’d known. I learned sports and romance can mix even if you’re just a kid.
In most of my romance novels so far, sports haven’t played much of a role but in my Rebel Ink Press Christmas release, Sing We Now of Christmas, fishing – which I suppose is considered a sport – is a big part of the story. My hero, Johnny Devereaux heads out onto the lake on the Fourth of July in his Bayliner boat and his bride, my heroine Jessica, plans to meet him later for a family cookout.
When he fails to return, their happily ever after that began the day they met the previous December fades to black or would for most couples. Jessica however is not your average gal. She refuses to believe her husband might be gone for good and so she waits with her faith intact and belief strong. The novel begins and ends at Christmas, one year apart.
Here's an excerpt from the story, from the moment they meet for the first time:
She got up to leave, unhappy because her friend, Susan, spent all her time with the lead singer of the band, and backed into someone. In her haste she almost lost her balance. Strong arms caught her and held her upright as a voice said, audible above the music but not loud,
“Whoa, there honey, take it easy.”
Jessica whirled, embarrassed, to mumble an apology. All her words faded away when she gazed into his eyes, dark brown and richer than sweet chocolate. He looked back with interest and she felt a strong sense of attraction. He wasn’t the kind of guy she would give a second glance under any other circumstance but tonight she couldn’t look anywhere else. Everything about him was opposite of what she liked in a man – she liked tailored, Brooks Brothers business charm and he radiated country cowboy.
He fit into his faded Wranglers as if they’d been made just for his long legs and his pearl snap button blue patterned Western shirt suited him. He towered above her, taller by several inches even without the worn cowboy boots he wore. She inhaled his scent, a potent mixture of musky cologne, tobacco smoke, and beneath it all, Irish Spring soap. His hands, still holding her arms, were warm against her bare skin and she was glad, now, that she’d worn the black silk halter top despite the cold instead of the red sweater she’d worn to school. Jessica made her voice work with effort, “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he said and she drank in his voice, strong and comforting with just enough Oklahoma twang to make it interesting. “Would you care to dance?”
“I’d love it,” Jessica said as he released his grip on her arms to grab her hand instead. “My name’s Jessica Martin.”
“I’m Johnny,” he said and she committed the name to memory, “Johnny Devereaux.”
He led her onto the tiny dance floor just as Mark began to sing the softer, sweeter vintage country song, Lookin’ For Love. The old Johnny Lee song she remembered from that movie, Urban Cowboy, now felt like a theme song. She recalled watching it one late night in college, hating the boot scooting dance moves and the mechanical bull riding but loving the scene where Debra Winger danced to this same music with John Travolta. Such a coincidence she mused, Johnny Lee, John Travolta, and Johnny Devereaux.
Johnny put his arms around her and she cuddled close against him for the slow dance. They swayed together, their easy motions in time with the music, and she felt safe. Jessica’s head fell short of his shoulder and so as they danced, she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Above them, the stationary silver ball that must have once spun reflected the colorful Christmas lights strung above the bar and Jessica felt the strangest sense of coming home in his arms. She wanted to stay there forever, wrapped in that magic cocoon of his embrace, and hold this moment close to her heart.
Sing We Now of Christmas will be available on Amazon.com, All Romance Ebooks, Bookstrand.com, Barnes and Noble and more. Find me on my main blog, A Page In The Life at leeannsontheimermurphywriterauthor.blogspot.com. On Twitter: @leeannwriter