I personally haven't yet been lucky in love, but my heroes and heroines are. They each go through a lot in each story to finally get their love.
So this St. Patrick's over 250+ authors and bloggers are going to show you some love. We have TWO grand prizes. You as a reader can go to EACH blog and comment with your email address and be entered to win. Yep, you can enter over 200 times!
But before we get to the prizes, take a look at an excerpt from my new release.
Excerpt from Groomed for Murder
Book #2
Going to the Dogs
By Zoe Dawson
All rights reserved
“You stupid cow!”
Brooke yanked her gaze away from the computer screen, her
heart plummeting to her toes like a stone. Kristen Wright-Davis. Not again. With a surge of adrenaline,
she raced out of the office toward the grooming room, where her nemesis
shrieked in short, staccato blasts, punctuated by the yapping of her hyper toy
poodle, Mimi.
“I have asked you repeatedly to sedate Mimi, Mrs. Wright-Davis.”
Her groomer’s voice wobbled and Brooke moved faster to stave off disaster.
Pushing the door open, Brooke wasn’t surprised to find that
Kristen—a life-sized, hard-gloss, Barbie-zilla—had backed poor, disheveled,
worn out Rachel into a corner physically as well as verbally. Her groomer was
buckling under the pressure and looked like she was about to burst into tears.
Kristen loomed over Rachel, her tanned, pampered skin in stark contrast to the
groomer’s pale face.
The hair on the back of Brooke’s neck popped up like
porcupine quills. How dare that self-absorbed witch attack poor Rachel!
“Kristen—”
"Don't talk back to me, dog groomer girl. You are
nothing but a service provider, and you aren’t entitled to an opinion!"
Kristen snapped, wagging her head like Mick Jagger on steroids. “Look what you
have done to my Mimi!” She pointed a trembling finger at her noisy dog for
emphasis. “This is outrageous! She has a show this weekend! You have ruined any
chance she had to win. You stupid, stupid cow.”
Brooke stepped forward, summoning her most soothing manner.
“Kristen, why don’t you and I discuss how we might solve this problem to your
satisfaction?”
The woman’s head snapped around and homed in on the new
target, just as Brooke hoped she would. As smooth as silk, Brooke maneuvered
herself between Kristen and a cowed Rachel, squeezing her groomer’s shoulder
reassuringly as she ushered her out of the room with a quick whisper. “Go hide
in my office.”
“Look at what she’s done to my baby. It-it-it’s intolerable,”
Kristen screeched, pointing again with a blood red-tipped finger, then settling
her fists at the waist of her tight leather pants with a huff. Her
collagen-puffed lips evolved from a pout to a nasty snarl.
Brooke looked down at the spoiled furball that still yapped
and growled and snapped the air, straining to reach Brooke and sink in her
needle teeth. The tension inside the small room scraped against Brooke’s skin.
Obviously Mimi was simply reacting to the tension and to her owner’s state of
mind.
And then Brooke finally took a close look at the poodle’s
cut. What a disaster. Fur was missing in clumps scattered throughout her
otherwise precise and professional show cut.
Brooke mentally threw up her hands. Half of this animal’s
problem was that she had such an indulgent, spoiled, pretentious woman for an
owner. The other half was she had an indulgent, spoiled, pretentious woman for
an owner. Maybe Kristen should be the one to take a sedative before coming into
Pawlish.
“I’m so sorry this happened just before a show.” Brooke
cleared her throat, reaching for a more mollifying tone. “I sympathize with
your disappointment. I would be happy to offer you six months of grooming for
free, and I’ll refund the full amount of the entrance fee as compensation.”
Kristen’s eyes narrowed and her face darkened. “Six months
free? Entrance fee? My baby looks like this, and…and you insult me with six months of grooming free and money? That’s a slap
in the face. I will never use your cut-rate joint again.”
She grabbed Mimi and stuffed the yapping, snarling bundle
into her Louis Vuitton dog carrier. Mimi shoved her head up over the zipped
closure and snapped at Brooke again as Kristen swept past her toward the door.
Brooke’s first line of defense and
strongest skill was her ability to defuse tense situations, to turn snarling
lions into pussycats. It was definitely time to put her lifetime of practice to
work as skillfully as she could. Fast.
As the young wife of an older,
wealthy, and prominent lawyer, Kristen had a great deal of influence in New
York City, especially in the social circles where Brooke found most of her
clientele. It would be all too easy for this woman to bad-mouth Pawlish
to all her friends and sabotage the business Brooke had made successful by
providing unparalleled and skillful service.
Staying calm and thinking
creatively should do the trick. “Kristen, my policy is that no client
leaves Pawlish unhappy. Let’s work together to make that happen.”
Kristen turned around and stared over Brooke’s shoulder.
Brooke looked behind her, frowning. What was she looking at? Rachel stood at
the office door, tear tracks marking her face. She was the sweetest, most
helpful girl, and was the only one at Pawlish who would work with Kristen’s
unruly poodle. Brooke’s heart turned over, and she wanted to go comfort her,
but she had to deal with Kristen first.
With a hard-edged, steady gaze at Rachel, Kristen snarled,
“Fire that stupid cow.”
Brooke’s head whipped around, her face stiff with shock, her
jaw slack. Rachel’s sobbing and the slam of the office door struck her heart
with a hard, painful thump. Was this woman serious? Fire Rachel, an employee
who had been with her since she’d started her business, who took on any task
that was asked of her, who worked so hard that Brooke had to shoo her home to
her kids? Brooke had no words—well, she did, but those words weren’t
professional. Kristen’s callousness was simply mind-boggling.
Fire exploded in the pit of her stomach and flashed up her
torso, heating her face. It wasn’t enough that Kristen insisted on bringing her
nasty, fidgety, contrary little dog for grooming without sedating her first.
Noooo, this woman—who had more money than she could spend—wanted Brooke to fire
a hard-working, very competent employee just to satisfy her spiteful whim.
Kristen’s smug look only fanned the flames of Brooke’s determination. Rachel
wasn’t going anywhere.
For the first time since she’d opened her doors, Brooke
decided this particular customer was not
right.
“Oh, Kristen, there’s no need for such drastic action.”
Brooke waved her hand in dismissal. “We can come up with something much more
palatable. Like a yummy basket of homemade, totally organic doggie treats for
sweet Mimi? How does that sound?” She needed to unclench her jaw so the next
words she spoke sounded more calm and self-assured.
Kristen tilted her head. “Ahhhh…you’re placating me, and
usually I’m all for that. A little groveling always makes my day. But in this
case, no. I insist you give me what I want. And I always get what I want.” Her smile was full of sunny,
self-satisfied condemnation.
“I’m trying to make amends. Please, let’s put this behind
us.” Brooke smiled, too, trying to extend an olive branch without wishing at
the same time that Kristen would choke on it.
Kristen wrinkled her nose in mock cheer, but her eyes
projected just plain mean girl. “Ooooh, you’re so cute when you’re insolent.”
Kristen took a step closer, getting right into Brooke’s face. Her eyes
narrowed, her voice low with a steely calm. “You’ve made a big mistake, Brooke.
I’ll ruin you any way I can. Just wait and see if I won’t.” With that, she
flipped her unnatural blonde hair and flounced out.
Oh, shit, that chick was scary.
Brooke took a deep breath to calm
her pounding heart. Surely she could find a way to win Kristen over. She’d been
able to convert cranky old Mr. Witherspoon into a fan when she was a kid. If she
could do that, Kristen should be easy. It was just a matter of time.
Brooke dragged her hands through
her hair, rolling her eyes. Turning to her receptionist, she said,
"Really, can a dog have a bad hair day?"
"Maybe," her receptionist
laughed softly, “but I'd wager that poor Mr. Wright-Davis didn't get the first
place trophy with that wife."
Find it
on:
If you'd like to see where it all began, check out the first book in the series, Leashed.
Now what are those prizes and how do you enter?
You
must leave a comment with your email address. It doesn't have to be
anything big, but to be entered to win the grand prizes and to be sure I
have a way to contact the winners, there has to be at least an email
address. But I love comments, too! Then fill out as many of the
Rafflecopter entries as you like (the more you do, the better the
chances of winning.)
I'll
choose a winner at random and contact by email after the
giveaway is over. Have a wonderful day, and happy hopping.
My Prize
1 $5 GC to Amazon
But there's still more...
1st Grand Prize: A $100 Amazon or B&N Gift Card
2nd Grand Prize: A Swag Pack that contains paperbacks, ebooks, 50+
bookmarks, cover flats, magnets, pens, coffee cozies, and more!
Everything
in the grand prizes is available to U.S. and International entrants,
except the Swag Pack which is available only to U.S. entrants.
To find ALL the hoppers go here.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
