Navigation

About       Books       AriellaMoon.com

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

A New Contemporary Romance from Helen Pollard



Holding Back by Helen Pollard

A foreign local. A manipulative ex-girlfriend. 
Summer is just around the corner. Time to stock up on great beach reads.
I'm adding Holding Back by Helen Pollard to my TBR list!





Blurb:

The last thing they're looking for is love …

Laura Matheson is a natural at avoiding romance, so when she is drawn to mystery guest Daniel Stone while helping out at her friends' hotel in Portugal, she assumes all she needs is a little extra willpower.

Daniel is at the hotel on business. The demands of work and a manipulative ex-girlfriend mean he doesn't have the time or energy for romance, but Laura is a distraction he finds hard to ignore.

As they negotiate a minefield of misunderstandings and mutual attraction, will they both continue to hold back? Or will they finally allow love into their lives?


Buy Links:

Amazon US            Amazon UK              Barnes & Noble               Kobo                 Smashwords


Excerpt from Chapter Two:


Laura's mind raced as her footsteps slowed. What on earth was he doing here? The unlikely hope he might be passing by—perhaps he'd called in for directions to somewhere else?—was immediately scotched as he lifted his luggage from the car. Reminded of their encounters at the airport, she could have squirmed with embarrassment at how out of character she'd acted, making mistakes and being so snappy about them.
Well, he wouldn't see her like that again. If Daniel Stone was a guest here—and it seemed there was no escaping from it—then she must make him welcome. For goodness' sake, she was used to dealing with awkward situations every day at school!
He turned at the sound of her footsteps. Forcing a calmness into her voice that didn't extend to her stomach, she stepped forward and held out her hand.
"Mr. Stone? Welcome to the Quinta Maria."
Closing the car, he straightened up to his full six-foot-something and reached out to shake hands. For one brief, glorious moment, Laura thought he might not recognise her now that she was spruced up a little, but any hope of that disappeared as his eyes narrowed in sudden recognition and his hand dropped to his side as though it had been burned.
"It seems you have the advantage over me, knowing my name," he said. "Since you're determined to turn up like a bad penny wherever I go, perhaps you could enlighten me with yours?"
Incensed, Laura bit back a response. They were no longer on neutral ground, and as his host, she could hardly give him a piece of her mind.
"I'm Laura Matheson," she replied as evenly as she could. "If you'll excuse me, I'll get your key and then I'll show you around."
Disappearing into reception before he could find further fault with her, she crossed to the desk and raked her tired eyes over the reservations spreadsheet with a growing sense of disbelief. Not only was Daniel Stone booked in for a full fortnight, but he'd been allocated the room next to hers. Even Paulo and Rachel were unknowingly conspiring against her!
"You're in room eleven," she announced, sensing his presence in the doorway. "Your other party checked in earlier. Will you require a second key?"
"My other party?"
Something in his tone made her glance up. She recognized the travel weariness in his stance, but his face showed only bewilderment.
"Yes." She squinted at the computer screen again. "Miss Hartman."
His eyes froze to a dangerous dark blue. "Natalie Hartman?"
"That's right," she confirmed, double-checking the name. "Is there a problem?"
"What time did she check in?" His mouth was a hard, thin line.
She frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't know."
"You don't know?" There was incredulity in his voice, along with displeasure and a hint at incompetence on her part.
Laura didn't like it, nor was she going to take it. "I don't know because I wasn't here in reception when she checked in. As you're aware, I only arrived here a short while ago myself. I …" She stopped. There was no need for her to explain herself. Frankly, she couldn't understand why he didn't just go and talk to his companion. After all, they were sharing a double room.

About the Author:


Helen Pollard writes contemporary romance with old-fashioned heart. She believes there will always be a place for romantic fiction, no matter how fast-paced and cynical the world becomes. Readers still want that feel-good factor - to escape from their own world for a while and see how a budding romance can blossom and overcome adversity to develop into love ... and we all need a little love, right?

A Yorkshire lass, Helen is married, with two teenagers and a psychotic cat. When she's not working or writing, it goes without saying that she loves to read. She also enjoys a good coffee in a quiet bookshop, and appreciates the company of family and close friends.

Find Helen at:
Website & Blog:  http://helenpollardwrites.wordpress.com     
Facebook:  http://facebook.com/pages/Helen-Pollard/372986142839624
Twitter:  http://twitter.com/helenpollard147
Tsu:  http://tsu.co/HelenPollard
Goodreads:  http://goodreads.com/author/show/8647878.Helen_Pollard
Amazon:  http://amazon.com/author/helenpollard




Friday, May 1, 2015

Fourteen Line Friday

The challenge: Post 14 lines from your favorite clean novel, novella,
 or Work-In-Progress.
Here's my pick from Spell For Sophia,
Book 4, The Teen Wytche Saga.



The ghost bracketed her face with her hands and peered through the window. Brackish swamp smells assaulted my nose. Water dripped from her long curly Afro and slid down the sides of her hands and onto the windowpane. I wondered if she could hear my heart thundering.

"Are you the Mexican?" the wraith asked.

My eyes widened. Is the drug cartel employing ghosts? Speechless, my gaze darted across her face. She's no older than Breaux. Unlike Mam'zelle, whose spirit had transitioned into a being of light, the ghost still retained her human form and the clothes she must have been wearing when she died. Her skin, though blue-gray in death, still showed patches of its former nutmeg color. She had Breaux's nose.

The ghost pointed a wet finger. "Is he Shiloh Breaux Martine?"

"Umm. Breaux…" My fingers dug into his thigh.




Hope you all have a great weekend!
~Ariella

Monday, April 20, 2015

Jo Grafford Spotlights Spell For Sophia

I'm a big fan of Jo Grafford. The person. The historical romance author.
Her first novel, Breaking Ties (The Lost Colony Series, Book 1) debuted just as the television series, Sleeping Hollow intrigued me with an episode on the lost colony of Roanoke.

Today, I'm sending out a big thank you to Jo Grafford for her wonderful spotlight on me and my most recent book, 
Spell For Sophia (The Teen Wytche Saga, Book 4). Thank you Jo!


While you check out Jo's spotlight, I'll be reading her new novella, Viking for Hire.

To purchase or learn more about Spell For Sophia and the rest of the Teen Wytche Saga, just follow any of these links:





Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Viking For Hire - A Novella by Jo Grafford

Novellas and short stories are perfect reads for busy people. This one from my conference buddy, Jo Grafford, looks like fun! Magic, witches, and Vikings - how can we resist?


VIKING FOR HIRE
A novella by Jo Grafford
 
Published by Amazon Digital Services, Inc.
ISBN-13: 978-0692373798 (JO GRAFFORD)
Genre: Historical Romance
Pages: 59

Blurb:
Branwyn O’Tyre’s estranged brother summons her for a healing ritual. Fearing he actually plans to arrest her for witchcraft, she drinks a protection potion before he arrives.

Eirik, a Viking sea captain pretending slumber in the tavern corner, witnesses Branwyn’s magic and offers her safe passage from Exeter if she will reverse a curse that plagues him. Alas, every woman who touches him falls madly but falsely in love with him.

There’s only one hitch: If she fails, Branwyn’s heart will fall prey to the same madness...forever!

Buy Link:

Quote:
“If you wish to indulge in games, at least choose one that gives me equal pleasure. By Thor, I’ve been long without a woman.”
VIKING FOR HIRE by Jo Grafford

 
Excerpt #1:
Two of the knights separated themselves from the group and rushed forward. Alas, the one on the left slipped on a puddle of ale and crashed into his comrade. Their helmets collided with a dull clanking sound that made Branwyn wince. Then they crumpled to the floor.
The Viking stranger emitted a muffled guffaw and appraised her carefully. “Methinks I can guess the nature of the potion now. Come, lass. ’Tis getting late. We’d best be on our way.” The rogue actually crooked an arm at her as if preparing for a stroll in the park.
Branwyn could only gape.
With a sigh of resignation, he reached down 
to clasp her hand and drew it through his arm. She gasped as a powerful awareness sizzled through her. ‘Twas sharp and immediate, stopping just sort of pain. Branwyn’s shocked gaze locked with the stranger’s. When the clarity of his blue gaze took on a slightly dazed sheen, she realized he felt it, too.
Lord help her, but she was instantly drawn to his scent — a mixture of smoke and salt and mystery — as well as his strength. The pulse of his heart, the hum of blood through his veins, the aura of power and danger surrounding him. The air around them fairly crackled with the potency of their contact as skin brushed over skin.
Alarmed, Branwyn tried to tug her hand free, but the stranger clamped his arm tighter to his side, imprisoning her. She nearly cried out from the sensations flooding her. Light. Heat. Joy.
“Pray forgive the liberties I take with ye, lass,” he muttered in her ear. His breath on her lobe brought her just shy of the point of collapsing. “I will explain as soon as we are clear of this arse.” He steered her towards the door.


Excerpt #2:
“Call yourself whatever you will, Branwyn. Your powers do not scare me. In truth, I sought you out a-purpose in the hopes you would heal me from the effects of a spell. ‘Twas cast on me by a most wretched sorceress.”
Fearing another trap, Branwyn stared at the ground. “Methinks you mistake me for another. I am naught but a lowly healer, cast off by an overzealous brother in a fit of religious fervor. Wh-why do you ask me such things, m’lord?”
“Very well,” Eirik snapped and dropped her wand back into the sack. “If you wish to indulge in games, at least choose one that gives me equal pleasure. By Thor, I’ve been long without a woman.” He closed the distance between them and hauled her into his lap.

Upcoming Review Tour:


About Jo:
Jo writes high stakes romance. Her favorite books contain layers of intrigue with alpha heroes and strong-minded heroines who are willing to risk it all for love.

From St. Louis, Missouri, Jo is a member of Romance Writers of America, From the Heart Romance Writers RWA Chapter, and the Writers Group of Ansbach/Katterbach/Illesheim.



  
Jo in Social Media:
Twitter: @jografford