Monday, April 28, 2014

Feature of the Day: Borrowing Trouble

Carrie Collins has been trying to hold it together for three years, since her husband Sean was killed in the line of duty during an undercover drug operation gone bad. If that and the mountain of bills she was left with weren't bad enough, her son becomes mixed up with the wrong crowd at school. Carrie feels like a failure as a mother, and does the only thing she can think of to fix things, she goes back to her parent's ranch.
 Her dead husband's best friend, the man accused, but later exonerated of, Sean's murder shows up at the ranch with his new wife and offers her a break from the kids and the craziness of her life. Carrie is reluctant to accept, but he won't take no for an answer. She goes to the R & R Ranch, but doesn't find relaxation there. What she finds is a tall, charismatic ex-rodeo cowboy who not only ties her emotions in more knots than his lasso, he wakes up her dormant libido.
 Carrie fights the attraction, because the last thing she needs is a man like Dylan Thomas in her life, a tumbleweed kind of guy who tells her in no uncertain terms he isn't looking for a relationship. She knows her kids deserve better and so does she. Her kids aren't there though, and the temporary fantasy he represents becomes too much to resist.
 Dylan Thomas wants nothing more than to return to competitive bull riding after an almost career-ending injury landed him at the R & R Ranch teaching rich greenhorns to ride bulls. A year and a half of catering to those wealthy snobs has him bored and restless, until a curvy brunette convinces him it might not be so bad to hang around for a little while longer.
 Carrie Collins takes hard to get to an olympic-class level though, and it takes everything in Dylan's bag of tricks to get close to her. When things finally heat up between them, he finds out there are a couple of things she hasn't told him about. Like the two kids she has who show up at the ranch, and the job she has accepted there.
 His temporary fling with the cute ranch guest suddenly gets a lot more complicated and permanent. Especially when former associates of her son turn up at the ranch demanding money she doesn't have. Dylan knows then he's borrowed a helluva lot of trouble he didn't need in his life by getting involved with her, but when the opportunity to leave presents itself, how can he leave her in danger?
The throaty rumble of a powerful engine reached Carrie Collins inside the barn and her eyebrows knotted.   She laid the saddle blanket back on the shelf, and dusted her hands on her jeans as she walked to the door.  Shielding her eyes, she looked at the road to see who was paying them a visit.   Maybe it was one of her mother’s friends from church, she thought, but then a slick, black motorcycle emerged from the trees onto the gravel drive leading up to the house and she realized she was very wrong.  Neither rider wore a helmet, both wore bandanas instead.  One rider was in black leather and the other in white. 

Concern shot through her, and Carrie considered going back inside to get the shotgun her daddy kept in the office, just in case, but the kids and her daddy were in the house.  He could see her from there and she knew he must hear the loud engine too.  She walked out of the barn to stand under the tree and wait for them to make it to the barn. 

The bike stopped, and the driver put down the kick stand.  He leaned down to fiddle with something at the side of the bike and she noticed the pattern on his bandana said Groom of Doom interspersed with hearts over crossed bones.  Cute,  but definitely not bad ass, she thought, feeling a little better about her mysterious visitors.  A man wouldn’t wear a bandana like that if he was a bad guy, would he?

From the curves the white leather suit hugged, it was obvious his passenger was a woman.  She swung her long leg over the back of the bike and stood.  Carrie squinted and made out that the wording on her white bandana that said Bitchin’ Bride.  The man on the front of the bike looked back up, and his sunglasses were gone.  Recognition hit her between the eyes and Carrie gasped.  “Trace…”

His jaw tightened, accentuating the scar on his left cheek, which he had to have gotten in prison.  Trace Rooks was still handsome as sin, but he looked rougher, tougher and much harder than he had when she saw him last in court.  When they convicted him of killing her husband, Sean.  Heat shot up her throat and gathered as pressure behind her eyes.  Trace hadn’t killed Sean, she reminded herself, shoving the old bitterness she’d lived with for three years away.  Sean’s other best friend, Seth Copeland, had not only killed Sean, he had set Trace up for the crime. 

Seth was in jail now, and Trace was free.   But it was obvious from the look in his haunted eyes that Trace wasn’t free at all.  Not any freer than she was.
The woman with him glanced at Trace, before quickly walking over to Carrie to extend her hand.  “I’m Ronnie Win—“ she started, then a fleeting smile curved her red lips.  She glanced back at Trace again, then corrected, “Ronnie Rooks.”
“That’ll take some getting used to,” Trace said with a laugh as he got off the bike and walked over to drape an arm around Ronnie’s shoulders.  “Ronnie and I got married in Vegas.”

Married?  Trace Rooks?  The man her husband said was a world-class player who would probably never get married was married to none other than the Shark Lady.  The woman who had represented him during his trial, and recommended a plea deal that sent him to prison for a crime he didn’t commit.  At the time, Carrie thought the slick attorney was brilliant, that she would get him off scot free.  To Carrie, even the three year sentence the judge handed down was pretty damned close to getting him off scot free.  But Trace evidently thought otherwise, because on his way out of the courtroom he had threatened to strangle this woman.  And now they were married. Unbelievable. 
Her eyes locked with the woman beside Trace and Ronnie Rooks full red lips curved to spotlight her perfect white teeth.  Carrie ran her hand over her own hair, which she’d done nothing to except pull back in a haphazard ponytail that morning.  She hadn’t worn makeup since Sean died three years ago, so she knew she must look a mess in comparison to the striking woman. 
“Wow,” was all Carrie could push past her frozen vocal chords.

Trace hugged Ronnie to his side.  “The honeymoon is over and Ronnie has an election to win,” Trace informed with a surprising smile for the beautiful redhead. “But I wanted to stop by to check on you and the kids.  I’ve uh, been meaning to do that for a while.”

What Carrie wanted was to get Trace out of there.  His stopping by, or worrying about her at all was astonishing to her.  She was embarrassed at the nasty things she’d said to him at the courthouse as they led him off to jail.  Those words should have assured she would never see him again.  But here he was.  Typical Trace.  He never knew when to leave well enough alone.  Even though he’d been a player, he was a good man.  It was the reason he had been Sean’s best friend.  When someone needed help, Trace was always there.  He was the one who should be wearing the white leather suit. 

Well, Carrie didn’t want his chivalry or his concern. She’d been doing just fine on her own for three years now.  Seeing him just reminded her of Sean, dredged up old memories she had been trying to bury since her husband died.  The kids would feel the same.  Chris and Izzy had enough problems right now, and so did she.

Carrie sucked in a breath and forced a smile.  “Oh, that’s sweet, Trace, but I’m fine—”

His eyes narrowed.  “It’s obvious that you’re not fine, Carrie,” he grated.  “Seth might be an asshole, but he didn’t lie about what was going on with you.  You moved out here because the kids were out of control, and you lost your house.  I want to help you, if you’ll let me.”  Trace’s eyes fell to her left hand, and Carrie hid it behind her back.  “It’s been three years since Sean died, and you’re still wearing your wedding ring?” he asked incredulously.

Because in her mind she was still married to him. The man she had dated in high school then married when she was eighteen had been the love of her life.  Yeah, they’d had their problems, but Carrie knew Sean would always be there for her.  Unless he was working, which he did most of their married life.  Or he did something stupid.  Like get himself killed. 

Anger and grief warred inside of her and Carrie spun the ring around her finger with her thumb.  Trace Rooks of all people knew how much she loved Sean, how much he had meant to her.  He had been Sean’s best friend and the best man at their wedding.  Him questioning her about still wearing her ring, like she didn’t have a right to do that, pissed her off.  She didn’t owe him or anyone else any explanations about how she handled her grief.  “I don’t want any help,” Carrie said firmly. 

His arm fell from around Ronnie’s shoulder, and his hands clenched into fists at his side.  “Well that’s too damned bad, you’re getting it,” he said taking a step toward her.  It’s the summer, so the kids are out of school right?”

Carrie’s neck rocked back on her shoulders to meet his eyes.  What the hell did that matter?  “Yeah, they’re out of school.  Why?”

“You ever hear of the R & R Ranch?” Trace asked.

Ranch?  That place was a spa for rich people who were looking for adventure.  Not somewhere she would ever visit in this lifetime.  “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

“The owner is a friend of Ronnie’s and we’ve made arrangements for you to go there for a week.  You need a damned break.  Ronnie and I will keep Chris and Izzy for the week,” he said.  The woman beside him gasped, and Trace glared down at her, before looking back at Carrie.  “I want to see them anyway.”

Before Sean’s death, Trace had been a fixture in her kid’s life.  She had tried to shield them from the ugliness of the murder trial, because they considered him an uncle, but Chris knew.   She couldn’t keep him away from the television when the trial was going on.  The more he watched behind her back, the angrier and more withdrawn he became.  Carrie hadn’t had a chance to talk to her son since Trace had been cleared.  “Um, that’s probably not a good idea.”

“Why the hell not?  I want to talk to him.”

Carrie didn’t miss the hurt in Trace’s tone.  He loved her kids as much as Sean had, but they didn’t feel the same now.  Because Carrie hadn’t had time to talk to them.  “Chris doesn’t know you’ve been cleared,” she admitted looking away.

“Why haven’t you told him?” he demanded.

Carrie heard the unmistakable sound of a pump shotgun being racked and spun toward the barn door.  Her tall, lanky thirteen-year-old son stood there with her father’s shotgun to his shoulder, eyeing down the sight at Trace. 

“Get out of here murderer,” he growled trying to sound fierce, but his voice trembled.
Fear shot to her throat.  Carrie swallowed it down and tried to force calm into her tone, “Chris, put the shotgun down.”

It was true.  Chris was out of control, but she had no idea how to help him.  Counselors hadn’t worked, suspension from school for smoking pot hadn’t worked, grounding for the summer hadn’t worked.  Moving away from the nasty group of friends he’d been hanging out with at the old house hadn’t worked.  Carrie was afraid he was going to end up dead or in jail if she didn’t do something.  She just didn’t know what to do.  He needed a man in his life, a good man other than her father who was just too old to deal with teenagers any more.

Trace stepped forward and spread his arms.  “Shoot me,” he invited and Ronnie and Carrie gasped at the same time.  “If it will make you feel better and you think it will bring your daddy back, just do it, kid.  I loved him too, and I love you.”

Carrie thought Trace must’ve lost his mind.  The gun shook in Chris’s hand, and she thought he might do accidentally shoot him.  Trace was even bolder though, he showed no fear as he took a step around her, then another toward Chris.  Carrie saw Chris’s eyes fill, but his grip on the gun got tighter.  His finger moved into the well of the trigger.
“I love you, Chris.  I want to help you,” Trace said taking another step toward him.  “I didn’t kill your daddy.”

“They sent you to jail.  You killed him!” Chris said in a higher voice.

“Seth Copeland killed him,” Trace countered taking another step toward him.  “Ask your mother,” he said gruffly shooting a glare over his shoulder at Carrie.

“It’s true, honey,” Carrie said with a waver in her voice.  “He’s in jail, and Uncle Trace has been cleared.  It was all a mistake.” 

Chris swung his eyes toward her, then back to Trace. The barrel of the gun lowered a few inches, and his shoulders relaxed a little.  Carrie’s did too, but Izzy picked that moment to run around the side of the barn yelling her brother’s name.  Chris tensed again and swung the gun in Izzy’s direction.  Carrie screamed, Ronnie gasped, and as if in slow motion, Trace shot forward to tackle him around the waist.  The gun exploded and Carrie squeezed her eyes shut, because she just couldn’t look.  Her ears rang as the sound reverberated through the trees, and she prayed that she hadn’t just lost her daughter too.
About Becky McGraw


Becky McGraw is a married mother of three adult children, and a Southern girl by birth and the grace of God, ya'll. She resides in South Texas with her husband and dog Abby.

A jack of many trades in her life, Becky has been an optician, a beautician, a legal secretary, a senior project manager for an aviation management consulting firm, which took her all over the United States, a real estate broker, and now a graphic artist, web designer and writer.  She knows just enough about a variety of topics to make her dangerous, and her romance novels interesting and varied. Being a graphic artist is a good thing for her too, because she creates her own cover art, along with writing the novels.

Becky has been an avid reader of romance novels since she was a teenager, and has been known to read up to four novels of that genre a week, much to the dismay of her husband, and the delight of e-book sellers.

She has been writing fictional short stories and novels for fun, as well as technical copy for her jobs for many years. She was a member of the Writer's Guild on AOL, as well as a founding member and treasurer of the first online chapter of the Romance Writers of America, From the Heart Romance Writers. Currently, she is a PAN member of RWA and a general member of FTHRW.

You can find Amazon Bestselling Author Becky McGraw at: 

Texas Trouble Series by Becky McGraw:

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

It Is That Day Of The Week Again #TeaserTuesday

Here is another tiny unedited snippet from the next book in The Sherbrookes of Newport Series

Across from her, he lifted his own cup of espresso toward his mouth. “Sounds like you speak from experience.”
Maintain eye contact. Don’t look at his lips or think about how they’d feel against yours. “I worked here all through high school just like everyone else in the family. Even when I was in college, I worked here in the summer. It was sort of expected.”
“I know how that can be.” He put his cup on the table once again giving her an unobstructed view of his mouth.
The night before she’d dreamed of him. They’d been standing on the balcony that ran the length of his home in Newport and he’d been trailing kisses down her neck.
“Everyone even my cousin Jake, who my Uncle Warren had to drag into the office, did an internship at Sherbrooke Enterprises. Both my father and Uncle insisted we know the inner workings of the company.”
An image of the former playboy, Jake Sherbrooke, being dragged into an office formed and laughter bubbled up inside her. “Now that’s a picture I wish the media had printed.”
Trent chuckled. “It is too bad they didn’t get one. What about you? Did you mind working for the family business?”
“No not really. My brother Nick hated it. Only lasted one summer before my mom banned him from ever entering the kitchen again.”
“Banned him? Sounds a bit harsh. What did he do?”
Memories from the one summer her brother worked at the bakery surfaced. “More like what didn’t he do? When my parents refused to let him get a job somewhere else, he set out to make sure our mother didn’t want him at the bakery. At first it was just little things. Showing up late, taking extra long breaks. When that didn’t work he stepped up his efforts. The final straw was when he started a small fire in the kitchen. He still insists that was an accident, but I don’t believe him.”
Across the table Trent cringed. “I can see how that would get him banned. Is he your only brother?”
Addie opened her mouth to answer, when Chloe called out to her from the front counter. “Your coffee is ready Addie.” Addie didn’t even manage to push her chair back before Trent stood.
“I’ll get it for you.”
A girl could get used to this. From the table she followed Trent’s movements as he crossed to the front counter and she almost sighed outloud. Watching the guy walk was just so, she didn’t even know how to describe it. Yet, she knew no one should look that good while simply crossing a room.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

#TeaserTuesday: Here is another snippet

It is Teaser Tuesday again.  Here is an UNEDITED snippet from my current WIP.

“Have you met everyone?” Elizabeth asked.
“Everyone except Prince Charming’s wife,” Trent said using the nickname the media had given his cousin years earlier.
Jake gave him a dirty look then looked over at the red head seated next to him. “Charlie this is my cousin Trent.”
The woman extended her hand toward him. “It’s nice to meet you. Jake’s told me a lot about you.” She gave him a smile that indicated her husband had shared a lot of personal information including some he’d probably wished Jake hadn’t.
Trent accpeted the woman’s hand. “It’s great to finally meet you. We’ll have to talk later. I have some stories that I could share with you that I bet Jake has never mentioned.” 
“Hey, Trent. Sara said you might stop by.” Christopher Hall appeared at the doorway. “Nice to see you again,” he said as joined everyone at the table.
He’d known Jake’s former college roommate and best friend for several years. In fact on numerous occasions they’d prowled the Los Angles night clubs together. “Congratulations on the engagement.” When the three of them had hung out together, Christopher had always been the one he’d imagined settled and married someday. He’d just never imagined it would be to his younger cousin Sara. Yet the two appeared happy and in love.
“Sara said you decided to run for Congress.”
Trent looked over at Dylan, he’d uncle’s step-son and his cousin’s husband. He’d known Dylan, the current CEO of Sherbrooke Enterprises all his life and considered him family. Other than himself he’d thought Dylan the least likely of everyone gathered at the table to ever marry. After a brief engagement years earlier ended ,he’d become a confirmed bachelor. Married more or less to his work he kept all his relationships with woman bried and superfacial. Then Callie Taylor, his Uncle’s daughter, entered everyone’s life including Dylan’s. Now the no nonsense excutive sat with an arm around his pregnant wife’s shoulders. Talk about times changing.
With a nod, he answered. “Yes, I’ve hired Marty Phillips to run my campagn. My father and I meet with him earlier this week.”
Across the table Callie frowned and glanced over at Sara, but remained silent. Right away Sara’s comment about Marty popped into his mind and he wondered once again what had transpired during his uncle’s campagn.
“Goodluck. If there’s anything I can do let me know,” Dylan said, his subtle English accent lacing his voice.
“Same here, Trent.” Jake’s voice pulled his attention away from Dylan and Callie. 
During the two years he’d worked on overseas projects for Sherbrooke Enterprises, he’d made few trips back to visit family. Now once again surrounded by his cousins he realized how much he’d missed his family.
“Warren is pleased with your decision,” his aunt said. “He spoke with your father earlier this week.”
His aunt’s comment came as no surprise. The Sherbrooke family had been involved in politics for years. In a way it was expected that at least one Sherbrooke male from each generation would get involved in politics. For the longest time his aunt and uncle had hoped Jake would follow in the family tradition even though he’d never displayed an interest unlike his sister Sara. For Trent it’d always been in the back of his mind but until that past spring he hadn’t been ready to take the plunge. Instead he’d been content with his position at Sherbrooke Enterprises and his rather carefree lifestyle. When Callie and Dylan announced her pregnancy though a switch had gone on inside him. He’d taken a good look around and realized that everyone he cared about was making these grand changes in their lives except him.

Friday, April 4, 2014

#Cover Reveal: Oceans Apart by Emma Fitzgerald

Today I have the honor of revealing the cover for romance author Emma Fitzgerald's  book Oceans Apart.

Nobody ever cares for second place.

Talented public relations associate, Annie Scott, knows second place well. She has never been anyone’s priority and is sick of wallowing in self pity, sick of being an option. In a snap decision, she flees her hometown of Nashville for the unknown shores of Sydney, Australia. There she can be whoever she wants to be. Perhaps, the enforced solitude will give her back her identity and kickstart a new path in life.

Professional surfer, Cam Hart, is home on leave from the Pro Tour, and in desperate need of some rest, relaxation and maybe, a little female company. All extremely achievable at his home in Bronte, Sydney. There will be women willing and waiting for him, of that he has no doubt. He’s never been a relationships kind of guy, and after his embarrassing defeat for the recent World Title, the idea of losing himself in between the sheets for some no-strings fun, definitely has appeal.

Fate throws Cam and Annie in each other’s path. Their attraction to each other is immediate. Cam believes he has found the perfect girl to distract him for a few weeks, while Annie is ready to throw caution to the wind and dive into a holiday romance. The two drifting souls soon realise that their chemistry and passion is more than they bargained for.

Cam has never wanted to entrust his heart to anyone again. But, with Annie, he sees that he may indeed want a future, a change from his impulsive and wild ways. Could Cam actually be capable of such change? Should Annie consider Cam to be more than a summer fling, or will she be bound by her insecurities and not believe him worth the risk? Will she return to her hometown, the same as she left it: alone.

Where To Find Emma


#Cover Reveal for Falling for Shock

This fabulous cover came from none other than my head and computerized art programs. I had some excellent help from Russian resident, colleague and graphic designer Ольга Лабзина (Olga Labzina). Together we made this cover POP! and WOW! And I hope you enjoy it too and it captivates you enough to pick up FALLING FOR SHOCK when it release on April 25th, 2014!
Until then here's a little teaser.

Oliver Hannel, England’s sexiest new star, has finally moved from the television screen to the silver screen, playing comic book hero The Shock in Hollywood’s upcoming blockbuster. While filming one summer night in the midwestern town of Greenfield, Indiana, Oliver finds himself witnessing a crime in progress. Will he embrace his inner superhero and save the day? Or will he remember he isn’t invincible and call for help? Layla Brooks is a small town girl with a big spirited heart, especially when it comes to her twin sister, Lucy. She will rest at nothing to protect her from a casino mogul’s henchman bent on collecting a debt… even if that includes taking her sister’s punishment. But a strange suited man from out of the shadows isn’t about to let that happen. Oliver and Layla’s opposite worlds collide with a Bam! But are either of them ready for the lies, truth and lust that comes along with a relationship born of shock? Or will their love come and go as fast as a bolt of lightning?

For more information visit Eryn's website:

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

#Teaser Tuesday Time Again

It's that day again. Here is a snippet from my current WIP which has the working title of The Billionaire Candidate. It is book 5 in The Sherbrookes of Newport Series and features Trent Sherbrooke, Jake and Sara's cousin. This is the first meeting between Addison and Trent. Please remember that this is UNEDITED snippet, so NO ONE but me has seen this!!!!

Crossing the sidewalk, he pulled out his smartphone when it beeped letting him know he had a text message. Another message from Lindsey. He’d told her he had know idea when he might be back in London again. If all went as he hoped his brother, Gray, would be talking over his position while he focused on his future in politics. Without stopping Trent typed out a message as he walked toward the bakery, the scent of the pasteries and espresso already making his stomach rumbnle and he hadn’t even stepped inside yet.

He hit an object and heard the startled cry of surprise seconds before the hot coffee splahsed across his phone. Message forgotten he looked up and at the living object he’d just run over. “I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?” He knelt down to help the woman retrieve the papers she’d dropped. Several were covered with coffee as was the front of her blouse.

“I’m fine.” The woman stacked the pages together and stood. “I’ll need to reprint these though.” She accepted the pages he held out to her.

Without a second though, Trent reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a case holding his business cards. “Send a copy of your dry cleaning bill to this address.” He held out the card, but she made no move to accpet it.

“Thank you, but that’s not necessary.”

Trent let his hand fall back to his side. “At least let me replace your coffee.”

The woman shook her cup. “There is a little left. I’ll make my usual afternoon stop later and get more.”

Turned down twice in less than three minutes, he didn’t think that had ever happened to him before. He assumed either the woman didn’t recognize him or was one of the few people out there who turned down a freebie when offered. Trent dropped his business card on her stacked papers. “Just in case you change your mind about the dry cleaning.”

This time the woman picked up the card. “I thought you looked familiar, but really don’t worry about it. Accidents happen.” The woman gave him a kind smile and began to turn. “Have a good afternoon.”

Trent stood and watched the woman walk away enjoying the sight of her bare legs sticking out from her skirt as she headed down the sidewalk. For him there was just something about a great pair of legs that drove him up the wall. In his hand his phone beeped letting him know he’d received another message. After typing in a short reply, he stuck the phone in his jacket pocket and headed into the bakery, his orginal destination.