New Release – Romantic, Edge of Your Seat Thriller by Sam Cheever



Gabriella has been hunted all her life by a madman who knew of her unique abilities even before she did. She’d been abandoned by one parent, abused by another, and the feelings of being alone and unloved had almost made her welcome the vividly cruel world she found herself in.

Then she met Mike Stanton.

And she realized her world didn’t always have to be cold and lonely. She finally recognized that she might be worthy of someone else’s love. But there was a problem. Her past wouldn’t let her go. And she was in danger of dragging Mike and everyone else she cared about into Hell with her.

Mike didn’t understand the power of the heart until he met Gabby…a woman who hadn’t had nearly enough love in her twenty-four, hellish years on earth.

Then he was told to protect her.

And he fell hard and fast for the woman whose instincts and actions kept urging her to fly away, like the beautiful falcon he’d named her.

Can they find the love they both seek before an ugly past and an intensely cruel organization rips them apart? Or will the future they seek only bring them despair as factions they can’t control try to destroy the feelings they’re just learning to cherish?

5 stars

“Surviving Gabriella: “What a GREAT BOOK AND PHENOMINAL ENDING !!!”

“…the author takes you through such ups and downs every page has something that makes your heart beat overtime or makes you cry or even makes you scream!”

She watched him from the shadows. His big frame was backlit by the soft sunshine threading through the broken window. She should have been angry with him but she couldn’t quite get there. Instead, she found herself smiling as he grimaced, his gaze sliding around the detritus of a once useful space.

She’d learned long ago to overlook the filth, the destruction, the stench of age and death. But he didn’t have her background. Unlike her, Mike Stanton had grown up in a sane, upper middle class home with parents who’d loved him and had given him every advantage available to a family of their income and place in society. She didn’t begrudge him that childhood. Or the respectable stint as a Marine he’d been honorably discharged from a couple of years earlier.

He’d done his part for the government and she’d done hers. But her efforts were cloaked in shadow, buried under secrets and lies. Because if anyone knew…

She shook off the thought and gave herself up to the pleasure of looking at him for a moment. He was a big guy, well over six feet, with broad shoulders, narrow hips and big hands and feet. His long, long legs were encased in snug denim, which caressed his trim, muscular body like a lover. His feet were covered in heavy boots, scuffed from time and wear. She loved a man who could wear boots like they were a part of him.

He’d worn his golden hair long for a while, tucking it behind his ears or gathering it at the back of his neck when he needed to keep it out of his face. Though she wasn’t a fan of long hair on a man, thinking it made them look too feminine, Mike carried the look well. So well, in fact, that when he’d recently cut it so that it lay close to his head in soft waves, she’d been disappointed. He’d rocked the longer hair, reminding her a bit of a hero from the historical romance books she’d die if anybody knew she read.

She let her gaze rest, finally, on his handsome face. Chiseled perfection, from his broad forehead to his high cheekbones and dimpled chin. Mike was always clean-shaven, though she’d seen him once with a full beard, right after getting out of the Marines. It was the day he’d come to DeVitis Manor to apply for a security job. Even then, watching from a distance with her heart full of pain and longing, she’d been able to appreciate the lithe grace of the big man, who’d clearly spent a lot of time sneaking up on people and was very good at it.

A soft sigh left her and his head snapped up. The sound she’d made had been gentler than the touch of a butterfly wing on the air. But he’d somehow locked onto her location and turned, a grim smile showing straight, white teeth through the dimness. “Come on out, falcon. I know you’re there.”

She hesitated, glancing back toward the labyrinth of discarded refuse that cluttered the basement room. Maybe she could make it back upstairs, to the roof, and she could fly…

Heat suddenly infused her space and a large form pressed closer. Gabby gasped, back pedaling until she ran up against the mildewed wall behind her.

Mike placed a hand on either side, effectively boxing her in. “Hello, pretty falcon.”

She forced herself to lift her gaze and meet his eyes. They were lost in the darkness, with only a tiny spark of reflected light to let her know they were focused on her. “Why are you here?”

He moved and suddenly he was pressed against her from thighs to chest, his touch a drug that shot through her system like flame to gasoline. Gabby tried to press away from his delicious heat but she had nowhere to go. He lowered his head, the sweet warmth of his breath brushing her face as she turned her head away. She was terrified that if he kissed her she’d be lost. Helpless. His lips touched her ear, fracturing her control and turning her into a trembling mass desperate for escape. But he didn’t move away. His sexy lips parted and his whisper sent another ripple of awareness through her quivering form. “Don’t you remember, Gabby? You asked me to come.”

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Sam Cheever has a Sizzling new Romantic Thriller!


My name is Nicola. And I don’t know who I am anymore.

I’ve been thrown into a whirlwind of lies and danger. My entire existence is a deceit. Even the illusion of safety has been torn from me, leaving me raw and functioning on pure adrenaline. It seems I can trust only one person. A man…whose forest green gaze makes my already upside down world wobble a little on its axis.

This is my story. It’s a story of hate and greed and violence. But it’s also a story of love and hope and fighting for what you believe in. I can’t let the war I find myself in define me. Or I’ll be no better than the shadowy figures who are trying to take us down.”


“If you love thrillers with strong women who know how to stand up for themselves, with hot bodyguards and secrets to unveil then look no further. You will be happily entertained.”

A hand wrapped around her arm and she was tugged backward, hitting the firm heat of a wide chest. She tried to pull away, thinking she was dealing with another overzealous flirt. “Back off, buddy.” She jerked her elbow backward, earning herself a very satisfying grunt of pain. But the hand on her arm didn’t let go.
Hot breath bathed her ear. “Real funny, Elena. Now stop screwing around and come with me. You know it’s dangerous for you to be in here.”

She frowned, realizing he’d mistaken her for someone else. Nici turned her head and slid her gaze up, inhaling a quick rush of air as she got her first look at him.

His skin looked golden under the lights, his wide, square jaw taut with anger as he glared down at her. His eyes were a shade of forest green she’d never seen before, the lashes framing them thick and black. The lights played over his inky black hair, dancing along the glossy waves where it was longer at the top and dimming where he’d shaved it close on the sides.

He was huge, probably six foot five or six, with wide shoulders and massive arms. The hand on her upper arm easily encircled it, with long, dense fingers. He wore a round-necked shirt that glowed white under the spinning lights and lovingly hugged his pecs. The shirt was tucked neatly into a pair of dark denim jeans which looked painted on. A brown leather jacket covered the shirt and Nici wondered what he was hiding underneath it. It was way too warm, both outside and in, for leather.

Nici’s mouth watered as she stared up at him and she almost forgot to yank her arm away.

She remembered a beat later, when he tried to drag her toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Let go of me.”


She stomped on his toes and ground down, feeling the soft leather dent as she put all her weight onto his foot.

“Son of a…” Quick as a wink he wrapped a muscular arm around her waist and hauled her off her feet, throwing her over his shoulder. She gave a little scream, tugging frantically on her short skirt in an attempt to cover her butt.

“Put me down you Neanderthal.”

“I’m taking you home and your father can deal with you.”

She kneed him in the belly and her bruised kneecaps screamed as she hit the unforgiving surface. “Ouch!”
She could almost feel him smile. “Serves you right.”

A man in a shiny suit circled around Nici and stepped in front of her abductor. The man carrying her toward the door barely hesitated as the manager held up a hand. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to…”

“Mr. DeVitis appreciates your concern for his daughter but you need to step out of my way.”

Nici squirmed, pounding on his back. “This man is abducting me, do something!”

The manager blinked, his mouth opening and closing before he finally frowned, inclining his head. “Give Mr. DeVitis my regards.”

Her abductor didn’t bother to respond. He started toward the door, bodies magically moving out of his way as they neared the exit. As the door opened to admit a loud group of happy partiers, Nici’s head came up and she searched the crowd for her friends. Nobody. They hadn’t even seen her get abducted. Dammit!
“Well looky here. Such a pretty little ass…” A moist hand caressed her buttock and, like a cobra, her abductor struck, a big fist smashing into the young drunk’s face and sending him to the floor like a large sack of potatoes.

“Learn some respect, punk,” her abductor said on a growl before plunging them outside into the warm night air.

She barked out a shocked laugh. “You’re telling him to respect me? That’s rich.”

He didn’t even hesitate, his long strides took them quickly toward the street and he finally lowered her to the ground. She immediately went after him, fists flashing and elbows flying. She used every trick she’d learned in hours of self-defense classes but he seemed to anticipate all of them, easily shutting her down.
When he had both of her fists trapped in one of his big hands, a black eyebrow lifted in irritation, Nici tried the last trick in her arsenal. She went perfectly still, deliberately softening her muscles.

To her supreme annoyance, he grinned, pushing her toward the car. “Not gonna work, Elena.”

The door opened behind her and her abductor gave the dark suited man who’d opened it a smile. “Thanks, Mike.”

The doorman had longish blond hair, a square jaw and piercing gray eyes. “My pleasure. So, Elena, love the new hair style.”

Nici gave him a glare and then, hoping to catch them off guard, let all her weight drop to her heels and sagged downward, her hand tightening around the handle of her purse. She really wished she could get to the gun she carried in a hidden side pocket, but there was no way he’d give her that much time. So she did the next best thing. She screamed, launching herself off her toes and swinging the bag toward his head.

Her grabbed her arm with one hand, tugging the purse easily from her grasp, and shoved her backward with the other.

She hit a soft leather seat and slid, hands scrabbling for purchase even as she skidded toward the far side of the car.

His hand snaked out and grabbed her ankle before her head connected with the door and, in the same move, he shoved in behind her, lifting her legs to rest across his lap. “Let’s go, Mike. Gordon’s anxious to hear that she’s okay.”

His gaze flashing with humor, the man he’d called Mike quietly closed the door and walked around the car, sliding behind the wheel. A moment later the engine of the long, black limousine rumbled to life and it glided away from the curb.



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A Tense New Mystery by Sam Cheever


*A Note from the Author:

The Smart Investigations, Inc. series is not your typical mystery series. There are two things you might like to know about it. First, the pace is fast, like a great suspense novel, and the mood is tense…a bit darker than your average cozy mystery but not too dark. The romance in the books is sweet, with sensual overtones, like an old time murder mystery from film noire days. And of course there’s a cute little dog named Max, a dachshund, who pees on bad guys because…well…he can! And because he’s a dachshund and they always have an opinion.

And secondly, you’ll notice a second author’s name on the cover. Edric Honeybun is one of the brothers from my popular Honeybun Heat series. In the Heat, Edric is a thriller/suspense writer and the Smart Investigations, Inc. series was originally his before I stole it. So I thought it was only fair to give him some credit. Thus the co-authorship.

 Read the reviews, check out the blurb and if it sounds like something you might enjoy, I hope you’ll give this exciting new series a try. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed!

Fractured love, treachery and cold-blooded murder…

A nightmarish new case plunges Alex and Matthew into personal and professional chaos as they pursue a killer who traffics in the most vile of human traits. They quickly learn that the current killings are somehow tied to a decades old murder, which comes with a hefty mix of suspects. As they begin to dig into the cold case, they start to realize that one of their suspects is hiding an evil so horrific it can barely stand the light of day.

Unfortunately, the evil they stalk is only one side of a multi-sided problem. Twisted around old loves and never forgotten treacheries, the case threatens their growing feelings for each other and dangerously undermines their professional relationship, while pitting them against a killer more deadly than any they’ve faced. Can they survive the dual threat? Will they reach for each other when things get rough? Or will they let misunderstanding and menace kill the future they’ve started building together?


Tandy Smart clicked blood-red nails on top of Alex’s desk and tugged on a shiny blonde curl as she talked into her pink phone. Alex watched Matthew’s twenty-something sister with a mixture of awe and disbelief. She, Alex, had never been the flirty girl sort. She’d always been driven by the need to learn and, as such, had somehow threatened the tender psyches of any men she might have formed attachments with.

Before Matthew, there had been only one other man who’d seen past Alex’s brains and acerbic sense of humor to the slightly insecure, loving woman beneath. But, watching Tandy do her thing, Alex realized the younger woman’s modus operandi was a mature one, no doubt built over years of flinging out test bubbles to see what worked and then adjusting strategy to get what she wanted. That was where the awe came in. Tandy Smart was as good as her last name. She was no ditzy blonde, though she carefully crafted that persona when interacting with her victims. She was every bit as smart as her sexy brother, even if their methods were as different as night and day. Alex saw what none of the young girl’s brothers seemed to see. Tandy Smart was as savvy as the most dogged femme fatale. And every bit as dangerous because of her ability to hide it.

“Would you do that for me? Aw, that’s so sweet. You’re just the best. Thanks, Roger. I’ll owe ya one.” Tandy hung up the phone and threw Alex a smug grin. “Dandy Joes at two o’clock Wednesday. Back booth as requested.”

Alex shook her head. “You’re amazing.”

“Thanks.” Tandy surged from her chair, seemingly already focused on her next task. Her quick changes of mood and high energy were only two of the things that made Tandy exhausting to be around. “I’m meeting some friends for lunch. Can I bring you something back?”

“No thanks. I brought my lunch.”

Tandy grabbed a cute little clutch and headed for the door.

Alex eyed both the purse and the tiny behind swaying away from her, thinking she’d give anything to have a butt or a purse that small. But then she realized she’d have to give up carbs and store her gun in her bra. Nope, not worth it. “Enjoy your lunch.”

Tandy stopped at the door, turning back with a frown. “You know, my brother is an idiot.”

Alex felt the statement like a physical blow. Blood crawled into her face and turned her cheeks hot. She shook her head, unable to respond. Heading for her desk, she flung a hand dismissingly over her shoulder. “Have a nice lunch, hun.”

The door closed and Alex took a deep breath, her gaze sliding to the closed door of Matthew’s office. Sadness tugged at the sight, regret flared. Alex looked determinedly away, refusing to give in to the despair threatening to drag her down. She’d made a good run at it all. The relationship. The job. The last few months with Matthew, working at his side and sharing his life, had been the best days of her life.

But she’d made a decision and she was determined to live with it.

The office door reopened and Alex spoke without looking up. “Forget your lipstick again?” When Tandy didn’t respond, Alex glanced up from her computer. Her world tilted. Her lungs seized. She stood too quickly and thought she might faint as stars burst before her eyes. “Ben.” Her gaze slipped over him. Over the blood-shot blue eyes and the rumpled clothing. His face was whiter than the t-shirt he wore under the filthy hoodie. His baggie trousers were wet, the knees black with filth. But it was the trail of dried blood on his face that had her rushing forward. “Oh my god. What happened?”

The man she used to love more than anything let her take his arm and walk him toward a chair. His legs buckled out from under him more than once during the short trip. He groaned, clasping his head as Alex grabbed her client chair and pulled it over to the sound of wood screeching against wood.

When he was seated, Alex crouched before him, her hands over his on the arms of the chair. “Who did this to you?”

He frowned down at her, his sexy blue gaze filled with confusion and pain. “I…I don’t know exactly.”

Max yipped behind the closed door, his nails clicking across the floor in Matthew’s office. A beat later he was throwing his tiny body against the scarred wood, whining plaintively. Alex skimmed a quick glance in that direction before returning her gaze to Ben. Something inside her rebelled at the idea of asking Matthew for help with the man she’d once thought she’d marry.

“Ali, I think I’m in trouble.”

She sucked in a small gasp at the sound of that name. No one but Ben had ever called her Ali, and it had usually been in the most intimate of situations. Panicking at the flood of disconcerting memories, she stood up and moved away from him. Alex perched on the edge of her desk and crossed her arms. She knew even as she did it that the distance and the crossing of arms were both protective, shielding mechanisms, but she didn’t care. If there was anyone Alex needed to protect herself from it was the man sitting a few feet away from her. “Tell me what happened.”

His story was fractured, with small blank spaces his injured brain couldn’t fill in. But the gist of it was that Ben had been trying to help what he’d assumed was a homeless guy and had gotten himself caught in the crosshairs of the person who’d attacked him. “Have you gone to the police?” she asked him.

“No.” He shook his head and grimaced, his blood-covered hand flying to his head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

He lowered his hand and looked at it, seeming to see it for the first time. He didn’t speak for long enough to make Alex think he hadn’t heard her question. “Alex? Why haven’t you gone to the police? The man who hurt that homeless guy and you is still out there. He might hurt someone else.”

“The police already have their suspect.” Ben’s gaze slid to hers and darkened with fear. “It’s me, Ali. They think I killed that man.”

Though her stomach twisted painfully at the news, Alex made a dismissive sound. “That’s ridiculous, Ben. Why would they think that? Because you tried to save him and couldn’t? Ben, was that what happened? If so, we can help you.” She realized the word “we” had flown out of her mouth all too easily and, truth be told, she wasn’t entirely sure it was a true statement anymore. It was highly likely Alex was no longer a “we”. So she quickly amended her words. “I can help you.”

Ben Phillips continued to stare at his bloodied hand, his face the very picture of confusion. “No. You can’t.” He lifted a terrified gaze to her. “Because I’m afraid I did kill that man.”

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Get Your Dose of Fun Today! Dose Vidanya


Silver Hills Senior and Singles Residence isn’t exactly a boring place. Home to a death predicting cat named Tolstoy, a night manager who may or may not suck blood and float above the floor, a cook with mad voodoo and pie baking powers, and a trio of nosy sleuths who are determined to get to the bottom of the corpse in the library (maybe literally)…some might say things couldn’t get any weirder.

Some would be wrong.

5 starsReader Review: “OMG this book was laugh out loud tears in your eyes funny!!! You will never look at retirement communities or Yoga classes the same!!!! The book is full of humor, mystery, and a bit of romance. Highly recommended and safe for all ages who want to read a murder mystery.”


“You’re being ridiculous, Flo.”

Florence Bee cast her friend Agnes Willard a withering look. “I’m not going anywhere near that cat. I know you love him but he’s the Grim Reaper.”

Agnes snorted. “That’s just superstition. Tolstoy cannot predict death.”

The two women peered around the corner again. The huge orange striped cat sat licking his paws in a ray of sunlight that painted the mauve colored carpet. He stopped suddenly, as if sensing their presence and lifted his round green gaze in their direction.

Florence jerked backward, dragging Agnes with her. “There are ten dead people who might argue with you about that.”

Her friend removed Florence’s bony fingers from her shirt. “He’s my cat. I don’t need to hide from him.”

“Yes you do. If he sees you he’ll come over here.”

“And?” Agnes lifted a heavy brown eyebrow and placed her hands on wide hips.

“And I’m not going to find out what happens next. We don’t know if he kills with a look or if he has to sit on you.”

Agnes blew a raspberry. “Flo, I live with Tolstoy. He looks at me all the time. He sits on my chest when I’m sleeping…”

Flo gasped, grabbing Agnes’s wrist and looking at her watch.

“What are you doing, fool?”

“I’m checking your pulse.”

Agnes yanked her arm away as a door down the hall opened and a familiar voice spoke to Tolstoy.

“Good afternoon, boy.”

Tolstoy yowled a greeting and dove through the stairwell door before it closed.

Florence expelled a breath. “Good. We can go now.”

Shaking her head, Agnes stepped around the corner. She hotfooted it toward Richard Attles, a flirtatious smile on her wide face. “Richard! Hello.”

Flo rolled her eyes and followed, hoping to avert disaster.

Agnes had been nursing a serious crush on the man since the first day she’d arrived at the residence and had made a fool of herself more times than Flo could count over it.

The day manager of Silver Hills looked up as Agnes plowed toward him, her broad flank swinging energetically as she cut the distance between them.

Judging by the widening of the man’s eyes and the way his head swung from side to side looking for an escape route, Richard Attles was about to do something desperate. When his gaze swung toward the second floor window at the end of the hall Flo decided aggressive maneuvers were called for. She pitched sideways with a cry and folded carefully to the ground. As Agnes turned around, Flo grabbed her ankle.

Agnes rushed in her direction and Richard Attles saluted Flo as he dove back into the stairwell.

“Are you all right?” Agnes put her big hands under Flo’s arms and hefted her off the ground. Flo gave a startled chirp as her feet left the carpet. Agnes rarely knew her own strength.

“I’m fine I think. I just twisted my ankle.” She took a step, feigning a limp, and then straightened. “There, good as new. Let’s go or we’ll be late to the reading.”

Agnes narrowed her gaze at Flo and held her ground. “Just like that, your ankle’s better?”

Flo took off toward the elevator. “I’m a quick healer.” She pressed the Up button and the doors slid open with a whir. The two women climbed on board and Agnes stabbed a thick digit at the number three button.

“Hold the elevator!”

Agnes pressed Hold and peered around the open door to the young woman running lightly down the hall toward them, pressing a paperback to her stomach as she ran. The newcomer tugged a strand of mahogany hair off her face and smiled as she slipped into the elevator. “Thanks, ladies. Are you coming to the reading?”

Flo nodded. “We are. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I think I’ve figured out who killed Professor Pelt in the sun room.”

The doors slid shut and Agnes leaned against the wall at her back, eyeing the green-eyed beauty across from her. “I’m waiting for the sex scene. When are we getting to that, TC?”

Trisha Colombo shook her head. “There’s no sex, Agnes. But there is a sweet romance.”

Agnes blew a raspberry. “You need to write something steamier, TC. I’m getting diabetes from all that sweetness.”

The younger woman’s eyes widened as the doors slid open. “Shhhh! I don’t want Richard to know about the writing. It’s against my contract to have a second job.”

Agnes frowned. “It’s not like writing a book is a job, TC.”

TC lifted carefully shaped brows. “Have you ever tried it?”

“Agnes can’t even write a grocery list without breaking every grammar rule in the book,” Flo offered. She peered at her friend. “Besides, if you’re getting diabetes it’s from all those glazed donuts you eat.” Flo punched Agnes on a beefy arm. It was like a tick hitting a rhinoceros, barely even registering.

Agnes glanced at Flo when she rubbed her fist.

“I hope you hurt yourself.” She gave Flo a mean smile. “Good thing you’re a fast healer.”

“You two are incorrigible,” TC told them. “I hope I’m not going to have to separate you again.”

“If you do,” Flo said while glaring at her friend, “don’t put her near the coffee and cookies. The last time she ate everything but the ones with raisins.” Flo bunched her face with distaste. “I hate raisins.”

“Raisins are Satan’s boogers,” Agnes agreed.

TC grimaced. “Good Lord.”

“Don’t bring him into this,” Flo said with a grin.

Agnes laughed with her. “Yeah, he had nothing to do with raisins. He’s chocolate all the way.”

The elevator door opened and they stepped out, heading for the Silver Hills library. It was an open, inviting spot settled into a corner of the third floor. Two of the room’s walls consisted of floor to ceiling shelves made from dark wood, and every inch of the shelving was filled with books. The outside perimeter was open to the hallways and overlooked the large entrance and dining room two floors below.

Flo loved the library. It was her favorite spot at Silver Hills and she spent as much time there as possible. In fact, it had been her idea for TC, who was the resident activities director, to do the weekly readings. She hadn’t even known at the time that TC actually authored the cozy mysteries she read to about a dozen of the residents at Silver Hills. She’d just known they shared a love of reading.

They were a few minutes early to the reading and only one of the comfortable upholstered chairs was occupied when they approached. “Somebody beat us,” Flo observed as she eyed the stooped form with his back to them. She didn’t recognize the man from previous readings. “Who is that?”

TC shrugged. “Maybe it’s somebody new.”

Agnes picked up the pace. “He’s sitting next to the cookies. He’d better not have eaten all the chocolate chip ones.”

Flo rolled her eyes at TC and the younger woman smiled. “If he did I’ll call Cook and order us some more.”

Agnes slowed down from a near sprint and nodded. “Good. I need my daily sugar or I’ll drop into a diabetic coma.”

“You’re no more diabetic than I am,” Flo argued.

“Says you.”

They entered the cool, quiet space and a sense of peace slipped over Flo. She headed for her favorite chair just down from the newcomer, stepping over his very large shoes. “Excuse me.” The man in the chair didn’t look up from his magazine. Flo eyed the shaggy fringe of dark hair falling over his brow and frowned. Something about the man was familiar. And he appeared to be asleep.

Voices down the hall spurred Flo into action. She quickly forgot the magazine reading newcomer and hurried to her chair before old Mrs. Peoples stole it out from under her. Their feud over the slightly lumpy armchair had started months earlier, when Flo got up to go to the bathroom and came back to find the nasty old woman sitting like a queen in her chair. Mrs. Peoples had refused to leave, declaring the worn and lumpy chair the finest in the room and since she was the oldest, she proclaimed it should be hers.

Florence hadn’t taken it well and had set out, from that day on, to get to the readings before everyone else and claim the chair. She’d managed to snag the seat away from the crotchety old ninety-year-old woman several times in a row, only missing it the day the woman brought her lunch of prunes and sunflower seeds to the library and stayed until the reading just to rain on Flo’s parade. The cantankerous old woman had to have a bladder the size of her head.


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Smart Alex – Elegant Mystery Fiction with Sweet Romance


A killer finds himself behind the curvy on getting what he wants.

Matthew Smart has lost his Assistant, Cameron, in a brutal killing. Devastated, Matthew has to find out who murdered his employee while interviewing potential replacements. Strangely, the applicants all seem to be blowing off their interviews. So when a bold, softly curved beauty named Alexis McFadden shows up in his office looking to fill the position, he’s tempted to hire her just because she’s the only one who wants the job, although he doesn’t believe she’s a good fit. Lucky for Alex, a tricky new case convinces Matthew that he can really use her help. But what if Alex is smart enough to get herself hired against all odds, while in the eyes of a cold-blooded killer, she’s too smart by half?

NEW RELEASE – Honeybun One and Done

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For a limited time there’s a link to a giveaway for a Kindle Paperwhite eReader inside each copy of Honeybun One and Done! Get your copy today and play to WIN!


He’s a ONE and DONE kind of guy. Can she live long enough to find out if she’s the ONE?

Percy Honeybun and his honey, Brita Muldane just can’t catch a break. They’ve danced around their relationship for years, unable to find a way to make it work. But their lives are intertwined through family and friends and they’re just as unable to break completely away from each other. Maybe what they need is a life changing event to help them break through. Or maybe the life-shattering event they suddenly find themselves in, will end up breaking them instead.

“Dust off the edge of your seat because that’s exactly where you will be while enjoying this thrill ride called Honeybun One and Done. If you are new to the Honeybuns, you are in for a treat. Although you do not need to read all of them to enjoy this one, I highly recommend it.” ~Barbara Miller – Reader


She looked at the dead man’s name badge and swore. Brita thought she was looking at the uni who was supposed to have been at the front desk.

She moved to the window and looked outside, seeing the rusty metal fire escape hugging the wall a few feet down.

The killer had used the fire escape.

She left the bathroom and hurried toward the stairs, Moxie bouncing at her heels. She’d heard voices on her way upstairs so she knew that somebody was in the bullpen. First she needed to warn them, though she thought the killer was long gone. And second she needed to start a manhunt for whoever killed the Sarge and Brent Madris, the young uniformed cop in the bathroom. Madris had left behind a wife and two small kids. Rage flared at the thought. Brita would find whoever killed the two cops and she would make sure they paid for it.

Moxie ran to the bullpen door and stopped, yipping with excitement. Brita scooped her up and pushed the door open.

The stench hit her first. Feces, urine, and fear.

The first cop was draped over the copy machine, the whir and click of the copier a constant accompaniment to the flash of light each time the machine took another copy of whatever Detective Red Gordyn was lying on. Pieces of copy paper floated from the tray and scattered like flower petals across the already littered floor.

Alarm flashed through Brita, sending her senses into overdrive. The copier’s constant drudgery sharpened until it was like the roar of a train in her mind, each click at the end of the copy cycle twanging across her nerves like the cocking of a loaded pistol.

She searched for a pulse, finding one that was very faint. She would call for an ambulance but first she needed to finish securing the scene.

She settled Moxie onto the floor by her feet. “Heel,” she ordered in a harsh whisper. The doxie trembled, her frilly tail drooping on the floor behind her. Even Moxie’s overblown sense of adventure seemed to be outraged by the carnage in the station.

Brita crouched low and moved quickly past the first row of desks. She peered under each scarred wooden desk before moving on to the next and then the next. She found the second body lying face down between two desks. His desk chair was overturned behind him, the rusted wheel still spinning. She felt for a pulse on Detective Bill Bris’s throat but knew it was no use.

His slightly bulging brown eyes stared sightlessly ahead, a trail of blood coating the bridge of his pug nose from the hole between his eyes.

She found no more bodies and, by the time she reached the door to the interview rooms at the back, she was finally able to breathe.

Brita started to dial nine-one-one. As her finger hovered over the last digit, Moxie suddenly shot sideways with a growl and Brita turned. The little dog yelped.


Movement to her left. A blur of motion. Then Brita’s head snapped sideways and pain shattered outward, bringing her to her knees on the hard, dirty carpet.

She never felt her face hitting the floor.






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New Release – Honeybun on the Run



She’s fighting to protect everything she cares about. He can’t resist a damsel in distress. But he has no idea how high the cost will be if they fail.

Clovis Honeybun is working undercover to catch an assassin targeting his uncle, Senator Brick Honeybun. But his search is waylaid when he spots a pretty woman being mistreated by a guy who looks a lot like his target. Going rogue on a dangerous hunch, Clovis plunges down a trail that might be the right direction but the wrong bad guy. Ultimately, Clovis discovers he could have to choose between saving the woman burrowing her way into his heart, or a man he’s loved and respected since he was old enough to crawl.


Hoping to pull his mind from thoughts of a naked Emma, he reached out and tugged the drapes open a couple of inches, giving himself a narrow strip through which he could keep an eye on the sidewalk.

He was still staring out the window, his mind swirling with lustful thoughts, when the bathroom door opened and Emma came out.

Clovis sucked air as he turned and found her wrapped only in a small white towel.

She blushed. “I…” She bit her lush bottom lip, seemingly unnerved beneath his stark, hungry stare. “I had to wash out my clothes and I couldn’t bear the thought of putting them back on wet.”

Clovis’s gaze locked desperately onto her face, terrified if he let it wander he’d fixate on her nicely rounded breasts and slender thighs like some kind of sexual predator. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak. “I brought dinner.”

Her gaze slid to the collection of foil bags and cans on the table. “A veritable bounty of vitamins and minerals.”

Clovis shrugged, desperately clutching his soda can until it crumpled between his fingers. “There are probably some minerals in the can. You could lick that…”

Her eyes widened and heat flared in his cheeks as his joke went awry. “I, ah.” Clovis shrugged. “It’s not much but it will keep us going for a while.”

She grinned. “I’m starving. Thanks for this.” Emma grabbed a package of peanut butter crackers and a bag of trail mix. She put her hand on the can of club soda and lifted a well-trimmed black brow in question.

“It’s yours,” Clovis responded.

“Thanks.” She turned and headed toward the double bed nearest the back wall. Clovis couldn’t stop himself from watching her tread lightly away, her pert little backside swaying enticingly.

He shifted in his chair, intensely uncomfortable.

She dropped her goodies onto the bedspread and slipped under the covers. Tucking the blanket up under her armpits, Emma ripped the crackers open and bit into one, her tongue coming out to sweep across her bee-stung lips.

Clovis surged out of his chair and strode toward the bathroom. He didn’t stop when she called his name, closing himself into the still-steamy room and unnecessarily locking the door.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against the door, taking deep breaths. The moist room smelled like flowers and clean woman. He tried not to picture her naked beneath the sheets. But the harder he tried, the more his traitorous mind framed the picture, giving it the most exquisite detail. He opened his eyes and turned toward the shower, impatient for the relief a cold shower would give him.

His gaze fell on a silky triangle of orange and yellow satin hanging over the shower bar. The tiny panties had a bright, yellow bow at the top, centered on a filmy strip of lace. “Good lord,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face.

Next to the panties was a matching bra whose cups were cut low and comprised mostly of lace.

Her nipples would show right through that lace.

With a desperate groan, Clovis wrenched the shower curtain back and turned on the water. Weighting the temperature heavily toward cold, he decided it was going to be a long and painful night.

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USA Today Bestselling Author Sam Cheever writes romantic paranormal/fantasy and mystery/suspense, creating stories that celebrate the joy of love in all its forms. Known for writing great characters, snappy dialogue, and unique and exhilarating stories, Sam is the award-winning author of 50+ books and has been writing for over a decade under several noms de plume.

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