Showing posts with label #LastChanceBeach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #LastChanceBeach. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 14, 2024

Rock With the Rhythm by M.J. Schiller

Hi, Liz! Thank you for having me today and entertaining the boys in the band. I think the rock stars that haunt my writing are born from my husband’s and my love for music, particularly live music. I enjoyed writing my first rock romance series—the LOVE AND CHAOS SERIES, centered around the band Just Short of Chaos—so much that I followed it up with my latest series about the band Insatiable Fire.

This is my third Last Chance Beach Romance. The first two were about the drummer, Levi Cannon, (BEATING IN TIME) and the lead guitarist, Caleb Winthrop, (LEAD ME ON). The final two are about the Blackstone brothers. My newest release, ROCK WITH THE RHYTHM, is about the lead singer and rhythm guitarist Phoenix Blackstone. It will be followed by Dakota Blackstone’s story, BASSIST’S INSTINCT, (he plays bass guitar for Insatiable Fire).

Phoenix and Dakota are about as physically different as you can get. Dakota is barrel-chested, with long, dirty blond hair and the glaring lack of a filter. He takes after his Swedish mom. Phoenix, on the other hand, is more long and lean. He generally is a pretty smooth talker, with long, black hair, and the dark coloring of his father’s Apalachee ancestors. It’s only when he’s around Savanah Drew that he becomes a bit tongue-tied.

Rock star Phoenix Blackstone never dreamed he’d fall in love with the designated driver.

Rock star Phoenix Blackstone never thought he’d fall in love with the designated driver.

Sure, she’s strait-laced and uptight, maybe even a little prickly at times. Not the best fit for a “rock star”, right? But that’s part of the appeal. There was always something about Savanah.

 In high school I worshiped her from afar. But while I was the boy from Last Chance Beach’s version of a ghetto, she was born into a 24-carat crib. She was the beautiful princess in the castle; I wasn’t fit to live in her gatehouse.

Although Savanah had never seemed like the rest of the glamor girls, she was still untouchable. But now I’m coming back to the island having garnered fame and fortune. Maybe my platinum records will tip the scales in my favor.

Savanah Drew never wanted the silver spoon stuck in her mouth.

But it’s not like I could do anything about it. And Phoenix’s dad may have worked on the docks, but Phoenix was the one who was unapproachable. His good looks, charm, and charisma, made him popular beyond my reach—I always knew he would go far. But when we were growing up, some people looked down on him because his dad wore a slicker and not a three-piece suit. One thing I can tell you, the Blackstones would be the first to come to the aid of someone in need. The people on my side of the island? If they can’t throw money at it to fix it, they don’t want anything to do with it.

But no amount of money or charisma can keep you safe when someone is out to get you, and someone on the island is gunning for the band members of Insatiable Fire, and anyone they’re close to.

Is Savanah the next target?

Excerpt 

Phoenix

Women gulping down drinks in fish bowls could work to a guy’s advantage, as it might put his woman in the mood. Or, it could work to his disadvantage, if she drank too much and ended up lying on the tile at the foot of the porcelain deity all night long. I liked to watch couples from the high platform of the stage while I sang and try to determine which scenario would play out for them.

But tonight I was focused on a couple in particular. A couple of girls. One was screaming “Insatiable Desires” —the song that had catapulted my band, Insatiable Fire, into the limelight—over and over again at the top of her lungs. The other was Savanah Drew.

“Insatiable Desires” was actually on our setlist, a few songs away from what we were currently singing. But the girl was annoying me. I’ll take requests. In fact, I love requests. I had even taken one earlier from this same girl. But this wasn’t a request; it was a demand, and I was starting to feel like an organ grinder’s monkey.

I turned to my boys. “So, we’re going to play her song, because we don’t want to be total pricks, and it was on the setlist…but it’s going to be at the end of the night.”

They nodded and grinned, agreeing with me that not giving in was the best course of action. But I had my doubts. Mostly because the party in question was still screaming as Savanah shushed her. 

I wasn’t really paying attention to the loud mouth though. I was eyeing Savanah.

Even though we’d been in the same class at school, she was a complete mystery to me. I was intrigued because she seemed different than the people she ran around with in high school. 

Does she still see them?

I knew nothing about her life now. We’d come back to Last Chance Beach a couple dozen times since we’d first left to try to make it to the big time eight years ago. But whenever I came home, I was pretty monopolized with family stuff. And even had I not been, I would have never asked Savanah out. 

The island had its own little caste system when I was growing up, and Savanah and I had been from different strata. Her dad was the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Mine was a supervisor down on the docks. Hers wore $500 an ounce aftershave. Mine smelled of fish. My family wouldn’t have even been able to afford the golf cart that took the Drews from one end of their property to the other. She was the princess in the castle. I wasn’t fit to tend her gate.

But I was returning a very wealthy man. I wonder if a pile of platinum records evens the scales some…

I knew to some people it wouldn’t matter what my net worth was; I would still always be the son of a dockworker and therefore unworthy. The question remained, was Savanah one of those people?

Links ~

For MJ

Website: https://mjschillerauthor.blogspot.com/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/m-j-schiller

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/MJ-Schiller-Romance-Author/286382241460365

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/mjschiller/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/mjschiller

Tumblr: http://mjschilz.tumblr.com/

Instagram: https://instagram.com/mjschiller

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6479377.M_J_Schiller

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/M-J-Schiller/e/B009JOQFQQ

For ROCK WITH THE RHYTHM 

Books2Read: https://books2read.com/RockWithTheRhythm

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0CCYMNPTB

Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rock-with-the-rhythm-m-j-schiller/1143836177

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/rock-with-the-rhythm

iTunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/rock-with-the-rhythm/id6453885394

Bio 

M.J. Schiller is a retired lunch lady/romance-romantic suspense writer. She enjoys writing novels whose characters include rock stars, desert princes, teachers, futuristic Knights, construction workers, cops, and a wide variety of others. In her mind everybody has a romance. She is the mother of a twenty-eight-year-old and three twenty-six-year-olds. That's right, triplets! So having recently taught four children to drive, she likes to escape from life on occasion by pretending to be a rock star at karaoke. However…you won’t be seeing her name on any record labels soon.

Tuesday, December 5, 2023

Changing Traditions Bonnie Edwards

While we think that Christmas is full of traditions that never change, over the course of a lifetime, change is inevitable. Life is like that…the only constant in life is change.

When I was a child, Christmas meant a large family dinner that my mother slaved over. My older sisters helped with setting the table and clean up. My Dad and brothers were exempt from kitchen duty. (big surprise, right?)

Eventually, my much older siblings had other places to be on Christmas Day because they’d married and had their own households and in-laws who wanted to see them.

When grandchildren appeared, my mother gave up cooking a feast and my parents and I travelled from house to house watching littles open our gifts. Those were lovely Christmas Days, full of smiles and cheer and less work for my mom. Dad did the driving.

I got my license at 18 and drove us around Toronto on one of the coldest Christmas Days on record. It was bitter, the kind of dry cold that sucked the heat out of our very lungs. That year, my Nan was with us. I recall a white out on the way home. For those of you from warmer climes, that’s a term for when wind whips snow across the road. White outs are sudden, and vision is totally obscured by blowing snow. My Dad, calm as can be, coached me through it while I white-knuckled the steering wheel. I remember thinking of my little Nan and how I couldn’t let anything happen to her.

Eventually, I married and had children of my own and my parents included my home and children in their Christmas Day rounds. I missed seeing my siblings, but as we know, little children prefer being at home with their new toys and games. Also, I had a feast to prepare. Luckily, my husband helped with everything!

And now, we have grandchildren ourselves and two of them have helped us decorate for the season for about five years. Soon, though, they’ll be called away for other pursuits and decorating will be more chore than joy without them.

Life changes. Christmas Day changes. But love of family remains years after they’re gone. They live on in our holiday memories and maybe, we hold them more dear because of the very changes we see.

One change that comes with time is the escape from winter that so many people enjoy.

Beaches! Sunshine! Sandals and drinks by the pool! Ah, yes, that’s a change I embrace. And to prove it, I’ve got a brand-new romance out now set in the lovely small island town of Last Chance Beach.


Here’s a little information on Make Me A Last Chance Beach Romance…

The worst thing that could happen to a man who doesn’t want children is to inherit two little boys.

The next worst thing would be to have a nanny with a child of her own.

Archie Jones, a wealthy playboy who’s never stayed more than two weeks in any one place finds himself saddled with an old friend’s four- and six-year-old boys.

When his brother suggests desperate Archie hire his wife’s sister, Archie can’t say no.

Equally desperate Beth Matthews is appalled that a man who can’t remember her name, or show up for family events, is now responsible for the lives of two adorable orphans. When he proposes she join him in a co-parenting partnership, she’s torn between her dislike of the man and the obvious needs of the children. Not to mention she’s a broke single mom with an explosive secret.

In this forced proximity, enemies-to-lovers romance set in the charming beach town of Last Chance Beach, Archie and Beth must find a way to compromise, live together, and always put the needs of their children first.

Archie soon learns he’s underestimated mousy Beth while she finds new appreciation for the footloose man who does all he can to build a loving family despite his many failings.

But when Archie suddenly abandons them, will Beth have faith in the changes she’s seen in him, or will she believe he’s returned to his wandering ways?

In Last Chance Beach love always finds a way.

Amazon (December 5)

Other major retailers (December 9)


Bonnie Edwards
has been writing all her life, starting with a poem about Santa suffering with gout. She was seven, Santa was a thousandteen years old. Delighted with writing, she went on to write family sagas, humorous contemporary romance, romantic suspense, erotic paranormal ghost romances and more.

Published by Kensington Books, Harlequin Books, Carina Press, and Robinson (UK) Bonnie’s stories stretch from short stories to novellas and novels. Now, she’s happy to be publishing her work herself.

With 40+ titles to her credit, she has been translated into several languages and sold books worldwide. Learn about more exciting releases and get a free romance by subscribing to her newsletter, Bonnie’s Newsy Bits

Cheers and happy reading!

Follow her online:  Amazon     Website     BookBub     Twitter     Facebook    Instagram 


Wednesday, February 1, 2023

Beating in Time by M. J. Schiller

BEATING IN TIME
, Last Chance Beach Romance, #15

Music took him away from her. Music brought him back. But are their hearts still beating in time?

Once upon a time, their hearts beat as one…

Drummer Levi Cannon knows that all the platinum records in the world won’t fill the Remi-sized hole in his heart.

I left Last Chance Beach and Remington Lawson behind when I took my shot at fame and fortune, but I had no idea what I was sacrificing. Now that a fundraiser has brought me home, I want more than anything to win her back. But it’s been eight years. There may be a bridge that connects the island to the mainland, but am I a fool to think that I can build something that will span the chasm of all those years?

Remi Boyd knows that her love for her brother’s best friend has never died.

But what kind of fool would I be to trust him again after he broke my heart? I was a child when he left. Now I’m a woman who’s been a wife and I’m also a mother to the most precious girl in the world. I can’t drag her through some torrid affair, and that is clearly all Levi can offer me.

Music took him away. Music brought him back. But is it too late to recapture what they once had? Or can Last Chance Beach work its magic for them?


Excerpt
 

Remi

I parked in front of Wyatt’s—so he could pull in the driveway when he got back—and took the groceries for our weekly dinner inside to prepare. When I set the sack on the only counter with free space in his small galley kitchen, I didn’t see the saltshaker and knocked it onto the floor. I sighed.

What’s that they say about spilled salt?

Not remembering which shoulder the old adage advised using, I threw some over both to cover my bases. I was wound as tight as a tangled bobbin knowing that I’d be seeing Levi tomorrow. It was absolutely ridiculous to feel that way, but I just wanted to avoid any awkwardness. I hadn’t seen him since our one magical night together eight years ago. But I was probably worrying too much. Mr. Rock Star Super Star probably forgot that night a long time ago. I’m sure our moment was less than a blip on his radar after all the women he’d probably been with. Still, I couldn’t chase the anxiety away for some reason.

I spied the broom behind the small kitchen table and crossed to retrieve it to clean up my mess. But as I took hold of it, I heard a noise in the garage and froze. I knew Wyatt wasn’t home yet because he hadn’t even left when he called fifteen minutes earlier, having forgotten, somehow, that it was his day to pick up the kids. Last Chance Beach didn’t have a lot of crime, so I really wasn’t worried about an intruder, but it definitely could be an animal. Although I didn’t relish facing the thing, I knew if I waited for Wyatt, we could have two potential repercussions. One, my daughter, Misty, would want to keep it for a pet. Or two, she’d freak because she’d think we were hurting or scaring the pest by chasing it outside. Or, now that I thought of it, there was definitely the third possibility, which would be her doing both.

Okay. You can do this. Just reach in and open the garage, and he’ll run out. Easy peasy.

I tightened my grip on the broom, wielding it as a weapon, and slowly opened the door. I’m not sure why, as the thing was likely not poised to jump on me the minute he spotted me, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I went through a list of animals it could be, because it sounded large, and decided a possum was my worst-case scenario. Those prehistoric beasts were ugly and repulsed me. As the door opened and my view became wider, I saw him standing in front of his old drum set. He was looking in the opposite direction, but I knew that body and shoulder-length, dark, curly hair. I recognized the way the dusky blue of his T-shirt stretched across his broad back and hinted at his musculature. His jeans accentuated the man’s fabulous ass. He hadn’t changed one iota. My heart leaped. Hearing me, I suppose, he turned.

His smile chased the cobwebs from the corners of the room. “Remi.” Then the smile faded and his brow furrowed. “Are you going to bash my head in?”

“What?” Then, realizing I still held the broom aloft, I brought it down and hid it behind me. What for? He’d already seen me brandishing it. “Oh, sorry. I heard a noise and…” My throat was dry as I stared into his face, awash in a thousand memories of him. Most of them in this garage, but some elsewhere…at our kitchen table, at the beach, on one of the worst nights in my life, and on one of the best. I cleared my throat. “I thought you were an animal.”

He gave me that easy grin of his that could make me do anything. “Well, I can be, if you want.”

“What? No. I mean…I thought maybe a possum got in here or an armadillo…or something.”

He walked toward me, and I fought not to retreat from him. “I knew what you meant, Remi.” He stopped a few feet away. “It’s…really good to see you.”


Buy links:

Books2Read: https://books2read.com/BeatingInTime

Amazon: https://mybook.to/BeatingInTime

https://www.amazon.com/BEATING-TIME-Chance-Beach-Romance-ebook/dp/B0BRH7KQP2?ref_=ast_sto_dp

Nook book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/beating-in-time-m-j-schiller/1142904265?ean=2940186568353

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/beating-in-time

iTunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id6445329638

Bio 

M.J. Schiller is a retired lunch lady/romance-romantic suspense writer. She enjoys writing novels whose characters include rock stars, desert princes, teachers, futuristic Knights, construction workers, cops, and a wide variety of others. In her mind everybody has a romance. She is the mother of a twenty-seven-year-old and three twenty-five-year-olds. That's right, triplets! So having recently taught four children to drive, she likes to escape from life on occasion by pretending to be a rock star at karaoke. However…you won’t be seeing her name on any record labels soon.

Website: https://mjschillerauthor.blogspot.com/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/m-j-schiller

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/MJ-Schiller-Romance-Author/286382241460365

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/mjschiller/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/mjschiller

Tumblr: http://mjschilz.tumblr.com/

Instagram: https://instagram.com/mjschiller

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6479377.M_J_Schiller

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/M-J-Schiller/e/B009JOQFQQ

Monday, July 25, 2022

Take Me, Take My Kids...by Bonnie Edwards

 


Take me, take my kids. Simple. Unless the woman of your dreams has the best reason in the world not to.

Single dad Jesse Carmichael met the perfect woman in Last Chance Beach, but when she heard about his three children, she bailed. Hard.

But Jesse has a plan.

Eva Fontaine has stepdaughters in the custody of their grandparents. She’s the only mother they remember, and she moved across the country to be near them. Her life is centered on staying in their lives while avoiding handsome, caring Jesse.

Eva refuses to get involved with another single dad. Falling for Jesse means loving his children. She’s done that once and her heart can’t take another beating if she should lose them, too.

But Jesse has a new plan to help her and desperate Eva’s onboard with it.

Until his children throw another insurmountable obstacle in their paths.

Now, Jesse has a plan for that, too.

At Last Chance Beach love takes a stand…

Excerpt: Take Me (and My Kids)

A Last Chance Beach Romance

Copyright Bonnie Edwards

 

July 4 Last Chance Beach

“But you promised I could see them this weekend.” Eva Fontaine clutched her phone so hard she thought the screen would crack. She eased her grip and held her breath. Her dead husband’s mother-in-law held all the cards, and she knew it.

“I don’t recall promising any such thing,” Estelle Morgan responded. “We’re taking Sophia and Jillian to visit their uncle and cousins. Their real family.” The girls’ grandmother never missed a chance to slash Eva’s heart open. That organ bled out, down her chest to the ground beside her fun Italian scooter as she stood in her sun-drenched driveway.

Her driveway. Her scooter. Her children. Eva stood outside Rook’s Nest Cottage, her new home in Last Chance Beach and wanted to scream.

But of course, she didn’t. Grown women in a battle of wits and cunning didn’t scream in despair. No. They handled their problems. Like a boss.

Estelle had no idea who she was up against. Yes, the older woman had won a major legal battle, but Eva had brought this fight clear across the country and it wasn’t over yet. She’d sold her SoCal family home, quit her job, and followed the Morgans and her stepdaughters to the East coast.

Custody. She wanted full custody of her girls and she wouldn’t stop working for it. Not ever. Maybe the Morgans had won legally, but morally? They were contemptible.

“They’re Sophie and Jilly,” she corrected, desperate to keep their names in her heart.

These conversations were always the same and had been since her husband had been killed in a car crash. What had once been a cool but reasonable relationship had become a series of emotional skirmishes, tactical ambushes, and legal attacks.

Sophie, nine, and Jilly, six, despised visiting their cousins. They were emotionally abusive bullies who had reminded them constantly that their real mom was gone, and they had to suffer having a stepmother. Now that their father was gone, too, Eva could only imagine the cruelty the boys dished out.

Estelle gave a long-suffering sigh on her end. “If you’re finished interrupting our day…” And the call disappeared. Estelle had hung up on her again. Soon, Eva suspected her calls would go unanswered.

Numbly she wondered how she’d live every day if Estelle and Bernie cut off all contact. Estelle could get a restraining order if Eva started showing up at their door. As it was, she’d barely controlled her urges to follow her girls just to catch glimpses.

Eva had kept herself busy the last few months by moving here, buying her cottage, and deciding to open a daycare. She even found a new friend in Farren Parks. She was heading to meet Farren now and maybe it was time to confide a little more. She had to do something to ease the pressure she lived with daily.

She slipped her phone into her backpack and then stowed the bag on the rack behind her seat. Eva was due at The Landseer Motel for a morning of lifeguarding, a joyful pursuit that kept her mind off her troubles.

Hoping to patch her heart by keeping busy amid a crowd of single parents and happy children, she settled herself for the short trip. Her little Italian ride was all she needed here on the island and the breeze on her face helped dry her tears and blow away the pain she lived with every waking moment.

~*~

Bonnie Edwards has been writing all her life, starting with a poem about Santa suffering with gout. She was seven, Santa was a thousandteen years old. Delighted with writing, she went on to write family sagas, humorous contemporary romance, romantic suspense, erotic paranormal ghost romances and more.

She may jump around within romance, but all her stories come with a tear, a laugh, and a happy ending. Published by Kensington Books, Harlequin Books, Carina Press, and Robinson (UK) Bonnie’s stories stretch from short stories to novellas and novels. Now, she's happy to be publishing her work herself.

With 40 titles to her credit, she has been translated into several languages and sold books worldwide. Aside from standalone romances, she has six romance series that include Christmas romances and beach reads. Contemporary family sagas find a home in Return to Welcome. Learn about more exciting releases and get a free romance by subscribing to her newsletter, Bonnie’s Newsy Bits

Cheers and happy reading!

Bonnie Edwards

Follow her online:  Amazon     Website     BookBub    Twitter     Facebook     Instagram