Wednesday, June 22, 2011

New Release Party: A Ghost of a Chance by Minnette Meador


Welcome to the release party of A Ghost of a Chance by Minnette Meador

What's it about? I'm glad you asked!! Here's the blurb:

Keenan Swanson is your typical, everyday graphic designer. Well, except for the hundreds of pesky, prank-loving poltergeists that make his life interesting (in a Chinese curse sort of way). He finds his situation precarious yet manageable—until witty, smoking-hot coworker Isabella enters the scene and Keenan decides he wants her all for himself. With a horny succubus who has other ideas, a burly city cop determined to lock Keenan away, and an evil entity who’s hell-bent on using Keenan’s seed to create a living demon, the reluctant psychic realizes he just might not come out of this alive—or with heart intact.

Want more? Check out this excerpt in our Goddess Fish Excerpt Library.

More? View the A Ghost of a Chance book video in the Goddess Fish Video Library.

And remember, Minnette will be giving away a $100 Amazon gift certificate during her tour -- so let us know what you think about A Ghost of a Chance right here on the party blog and be entered to win!

Follow the rest of her tour and comment for more entries. The complete list of her stops can be found here.

Monday, June 20, 2011

And the winners are...

The winners of my double giveaway are...

Gia and Jo!

Gia, I'll send you a copy of my book, Hooked On You.

Jo, I'll send you a copy of my book, Broken Hero.

Thanks to everyone who left comments.

And a big thank you to the wonderful team at Goddess Fish!

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

And the Winner Is....

Leanne109 was the winner of an autographed copy of Wild Ghost Chase. I'll be contacting her offline to arrange to deliver her book.

Ericka Scott

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Congrats to the winners!

Thanks to everyone for joining the New Release Party this week! And thanks especially to LASR for hosting it.

Now, for the goodies! For each release, I've enlisted the assistance of my daughter to select a name at random from a bowl.

For The Magic of Lavender, my paranormal romance novel, the winner is.... (drum roll please....)
Jen B! 



And finally, for Rock Bottom, my contemporary romance novel, the winner is....

Congrats to all! With the exception of Rina, who will receive the PDF on Rock Bottom's release day of June 20, I will email PDFs to the rest of you today.

Thanks again! Happy reading! 

Friday, June 10, 2011

The House of Women- historical romance excerpt

The House of Women by Anne Whitfield


Grace blinked to clear her frozen mind as her mother and Verity climbed the staircase. If Verity was here then was William here too? Movement at the door caused Grace to close her eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to open them and see the one man she’d longed for since she was sixteen.

‘Miss Woodruff?’ Doyle inquired at her shoulder.

Startled, she spun to face him, but she was blind to him, blind to everything but the sensation of having William here. Crazily, she wondered if she would swoon like a maiden aunt.

Doyle’s hand reached out, but he quickly tucked it behind his back. ‘What is it, Miss Woodruff?’

Grace swallowed, feeling the fine hairs on her arms and nape prickle. He is here.

‘Good evening, Grace.’

At the sound of William’s deep velvety voice, her heart stopped beating, only to start again at a rapid pace. Her stomach clenched and her legs felt unable to support her anymore. Slowly, she swivelled to gaze into William’s blue-green eyes and knew she was lost again. William smiled his captivating smile. He had aged, no, matured since their last meeting. He looked leaner, but broader in the shoulders. There was an aura about him, something that females of any age wanted. He made all other men around him seem insignificant. A magnetism, a mystical air surrounded him, catching Grace in its clutches once more.

 Order The House of Women from,
The Book Depository, which has free postage and currently on discount.

 For more information about Anne Whitfield, please visit her website.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

The House of Women by Anne Whitfield

The House of Women book trailer!

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New Release Party: The House of Women by Anne Whitfield

Welcome to the New Release Party for Anne Whitfield's The House of Women, released today by Knox Robinson Publishing.

Let me introduce you to our author:

I've been writing since 1997 and have been an avid reader for a lot longer.

A love of reading fiction started at an early age.

While researching for my hobby, genealogy, I began to write my first novel, a historical and the stories that had been company in my head for years,
suddenly became real on the page.

I'm a writer of two genres - historical women's fiction and modern romance.
I consider myself a storyteller. If I can entertain readers for any length of time then I'm happy.

I'm also active within the writing and reader community. I'm a member of Romance Writers Australia and Romance Novelists Association UK.

And I'm always happy to hear from readers.

What's The House of Women about? I'm glad you asked!! Here's the blurb:

Leeds. 1870. Lonely and brokenhearted, Grace Woodruff fights for her sisters’ rights to happiness while sacrificing any chance for her own.

The eldest of seven daughters, Grace is the core of strength around which the unhappy members of the Woodruff family revolve. As her disenchanted mother withdraws to her rooms, Grace must act as a buffer between her violent, ambitious father and the sisters who depend upon her. Rejected by her first love and facing a spinster’s future, she struggles to hold the broken family together through her father’s infidelity, one sister’s alcoholism, and another’s out-of-wedlock pregnancy by an unsuitable match.

Caring for an illegitimate half-brother affords Grace an escape, though short-lived. Forced home by illness and burdened with dwindling finances, Grace faces fresh anguish –and murder– when her first love returns to wreck havoc in her life. All is not lost, however. In the midst of tragedy, the fires of her heart are rekindled by another. Will the possibility of true love lead Grace to relinquish her responsibilities in the house of women and embrace her own right to happiness?

Want more? Check out this excerpt in our Goddess Fish Excerpt Library.

More? View The House of Women book video in the Goddess Fish Video Library.

Anne will be visiting here all day today, so stay tuned for lots of fun and excitement.

And remember, Anne will be giving away autographed copies of two of her backlist books, Broken Hero and Hooked On You today, one each to one lucky commenter (TWO winners!) -- so let us know what you think about The House of Women right here on the party blog and be entered to win!

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Congratulations to our June Monthly Release Party Amazon GC winner!

On Monday, we had a huge New Release Party bash and awarded a $10 Amazon GC to one lucky commenter. selected:

Maria !!!!!!!!!!!

Congrats, Maria!

Thanks for playing and don't forget to check back the second Sunday of July for another party.

Vampire Dreams Giveaway Winner

Thanks to everyone who commented for the chance to win a copy of my new novella, Vampire Dreams!  And the winner is....


Thanks to Judy and Marianne for their wonderful work here at the Goddess Fish Party Pavilion.  Readers can find Vampire Dreams at Amazon, All Romance eBooks, and Smashwords

To find out more about my books, visit me at:



Dragon & Hawk Winners

  I'd like to thank everyone who participated in yesterday's Party and announce the winners of pdf copies of my novel Dragon & Hawk are:   
Congratulations and watch for an email from AuthorJudeATcomcastDOTnet!

Dragon &Hawk is available in all ebook formats from Champagne Books and Amazon/ Amazon UK and in print from Champage Books.

Watch for my new short story to be released from Champagne Books in JULY, Within The Mists -- the story of an arrogant Lieutenant in Nelson's Navy blown overboard during a violent storm and rescued by a selchie: a woman on land who becomes a seal in the sea.

Thanks again and Happy Reading!

~Jude Johnson
 Author, Dragon & Hawk
Available from Champagne Books
My profiles: Facebook Blogger Blogger

Winners of pdf copy of Blindfold Me by Avril Ashton

Hello everyone. I wanted to say another thanks to the Goddess peeps for having me over yesterday. I had fun and thanks to all who commented on my posts. I've inputed all names into and the first two names were chosen.

Those names are: Carnation/Rina @
and...Jean P@

Congrats guys and please email me at and we'll go from there.  

Monday, June 6, 2011

Wild Ghost Chase - excerpt and contest

Another excerpt from Wild Ghost Chase

Over a hundred years of impressions permeated the house.
In the corner, children gathered around a Christmas tree. Then,
the vision swept away, replaced by one of a woman sobbing into
her hands. Over his shoulder, Enigma heard a man shout. An
old woman, toothless and dressed in a ragged Victorian gown,
ran through the room and up the stairs. His psychic senses were
overloaded, so, to firmly plant himself in the present, he glanced
over at Monica and caught her gazing at him.
Her eyes held a look he’d seen all too often before. Lust. He
schooled his expression to one of nonchalance and returned her
stare with neutral interest, a direct conflict to his real feelings.
He wanted to talk to her, touch her, kiss her lips. Yeah, like that
would ever happen. She’d called him Jason, so she knew part of
his real name. He doubted she knew who he really was. No one
did. Heck, he wasn’t sure he even knew.
Enigma ‘Jason’ Mysterio died in a car crash two years ago.
Three times he’d been pronounced dead, and three times the doctors
and staff revived him. Three times lucky? To be alive, yes.
When he’d emerged from the large tunnel of light the last time,
he’d brought something back with him. Visions of the dead. The
apparitions affected him to the point where he could no longer
hold a normal job. On a whim, he’d auditioned for a part as a
medium on a television show—and gotten the role. At the urging
of his agent, he’d stopped using his normal sounding middle
name and embraced his given name, Enigma.
A short scream interrupted his reverie. Irene had her hand
dramatically poised over her eyes. How the hell he had ended
up with her as a partner still flummoxed him. Yeah, Irene was a
looker, but she was dumb as a box of rocks. Amazing that more
than a few folks thought she had psychic ability. She didn’t have
an ounce of extrasensory perception. Nor, in his opinion, could
she act.
He caught Monica rolling her eyes in disgust. His insides
flipped again and his pulse increased. Why did she have that effect
on him? He liked his women tall and athletic. In contrast,
she was short, had unruly dark hair that probably defied every
hair product ever invented, and didn’t need the extra ten pounds
the camera was rumored to add. Still, her curves made his hands
itch. Although she’d never suspect his attraction, he’d had years
of practice hiding his feelings.
As a child, Enigma Jason Mysterio had been teased for his
odd name and his extreme shyness. Growing up, he’d done everything
not to be noticed; he wore glasses, dorky clothes, and all the
trappings of a nerd. After the accident, he’d embraced his second
chance at life, this time determined not to miss out on anything.
“Enigma!” Irene’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“Yes.” Enigma gave her an easy smile.
“I think we should walk through the entire house before we
get settled. I want to make sure I have a room free of impressions.
It’s imperative I get a good night’s sleep.”
“Of course, let me tell T where to start setting up—”
“I mean now,” Irene snapped.
“Sure.” Enigma shot an apologetic smile at T, their long-suffering
technical assistant, and then followed Irene up the stairs
with a sigh. She didn’t need a room with no ghosts. Heavens, the
woman didn’t have a psychic bone in her body. No, she simply
wanted to get the most comfortable bed in the house. With a
shudder, he hoped she wouldn’t suggest test driving a mattress.
The overt propositions started the day he began working with
her. Adept at saying “no,” Enigma had been amazed at Irene’s
persistence. Recently, something changed.
Perhaps she’d decided to devote herself to saving her marriage
to their producer, Richard. Thinking about their relationship,
or lack of one, he shook his head. No, the big dark cloud on
her aura screamed divorce. Judging by the thickness of the stain,
it wouldn’t be pretty.
“So, what are your impressions?” Irene asked when they
reached the top of the stairs and were no longer within earshot
of the rest of the group.
“There’s too many to sort through right now.” Enigma
shrugged. Suddenly, the scent of roses permeated the air. He
stopped, feeling as if he’d walked through someone. He made
out a petite form wearing something voluminous and white.
“I’m picking up the spirit of a woman. She died young.” At his
feet, he psychically sensed a pool of spreading blood. “I think
she was murdered.”
“Oh.” Irene shivered, a sexy move that appeared as if she’d
practiced it for hours in order to get the motion just right. “Good
boy. That gives me something to work with.” She began opening
doors and peering into the rooms.
Enigma followed, peering over her shoulder. From appearances,
no expense had been spared in the renovation of the house.
Authentic antiques, maybe even the original furnishings, were
accented with modern art on the walls and comfortable, colorful
bedding. Each room had a theme. In the first one, everything
revolved around roses. The bedspread, the curtains, and the easy
chair all had a floral motif. A vase overflowing with multicolored
blossoms sat on the dresser.
Irene drifted into the room to sniff the bouquet but then
pushed past him. This room wasn’t spacious enough for her. He
followed her trim form down the hallway. She peered into each
room, but didn’t enter any. At the very end of the hall, the last
door opened into a suite.
Enigma didn’t have to be psychic to know which room Irene
would pick. The spacious suite contained a king-sized bed and
had an attached bathroom.
“I call this room.” Irene plopped herself down on the bed
and bounced. She patted the bedspread beside her and gave him
her best come-hither smile. “Wanna try out the mattress before
we get to work?”
Enigma stood in the doorway trying to catch his breath.
Menace flooded his senses. The sound of his heart pounding in
his ears almost drowned out the bestial screams he psychically
heard. Then, he had a sense of a sudden stabbing pain in his neck,
and everything went quiet. Too quiet.
With a rush, sounds flooded in. Voices, both psychic and
real, made him startle.
“Why, honey,” Irene drawled. “You look like you’ve seen a
ghost.” She tittered with laughter. “I know you’re a good actor, so
I’m not going to believe you when you tell me this room is haunted.
I know it’s only because you want it for yourself.”
“No.” Enigma managed a weak smile. “It’s all yours.” He
glanced over his shoulder toward the sound of voices. “Everyone
else is coming upstairs. I can tell you that so far I’ve sensed two…”
Enigma trailed off, remembering the sense of evil and the bestial
screaming. “No, there are three spirits trapped here. Two women
and one man.”
“Ooh la la.” Irene raised one eyebrow and indulged in another
sexy wiggle. “A spiritual ménage.”
An eternal love triangle? Too soon to tell, but Enigma knew
one thing, there was more death than love suffusing the walls
of this house.

Want to win your own copy of this chilling haunted house tale? Leave a comment telling me the name of your favorite ghost story (film/television/book) and I'll draw a random winner to receive a signed, print copy of Wild Ghost Chase.

Once a Knight - coming out in print June 18

Thank you Judy and Marianne for hosting this great party! And thanks to all of you who read my blurbs and excerpts. Please visit my blog:
I have a giveaway going on until next Saturday, June 11. Three ebook copies of One Night in Bangkok are up for grabs.
And last but not least, I have a print release coming June 18.
ONCE A KNIGHT combines Silent Knights and Sleepless Knights in one print book.
Paul Stanton thought he had it all, a great job, a beautiful condo and a stable relationship with his soul mate. When his lover dumps him for another man, Paul is forced to rethink his life. He visits his childhood home in rural Pennsylvania rather than spend the holidays alone in San Francisco. But only a few days with his family is enough to convince him that you can't go home again.

Paul leaves for the airport in the midst of a snowstorm. Stranded in the woodlands, a chance meeting between him and a hunter is his only option for survival. He knows the type. A backwoods bigot like the men he grew up with. But what choice does he have? A few days with the Mountain Man convinces Paul there's more to Andy Reynolds than meets the eye. But is it enough to bind two men who have nothing in common except their sex?

After falling passionately in love, Andy and Paul are totally committed to each other. But when the two-year itch infects their relationship, Paul becomes distant and refuses to talk about it. Paul is the love of Andy’s life and he’ll do anything to make him happy, even if it means bringing another man into their bed. But is it really the answer? Or will it drive them further apart?

Zach flees to Los Angeles to escape his abusive father. He plans to use his good looks to get into the film industry but catching that big break is harder than he thought. He decides to try his luck in San Francisco. He has no money but if he can find someone to put a roof over his head, he’ll trade sex for security. When two smokin’ hot guys pick him up on the
Pacific Coast Highway
, he thinks he hit pay dirt. He never expected to actually fall for them.

Also available as ebooks
Silver Publishing:

Happy Reading!


SURRENDER TO DESTINY Coming 17th June to New Concepts Publishing

I'd like to announce the release of SURRENDER TO DESTINY a Historical/Contempory Romance
by Maggi Andersen

While making a movie about Giovanna Russo’s life in Victorian London, Astrid Leclair and Dylan Shaw steam up the screen with their passionate scenes.
Two men desire the beautiful artist’s model, Giovanna Russo. One intends to make her his mistress and the other wants her dead.

PG Excerpt:
            Gina Russo looked up at the attic window where driving rain had caused a leak to form.  It dripped down onto the floorboards, forming a pool at her stepfather’s feet.  He seemed completely unaware of it, but then, when he was painting, the building could burn down around him.
            “You must move your easel, Milo,” she ordered him, placing her hands on her hips.  “Your trousers will get wet and in this miserable, moldy climate, you’ll catch your death.”
            He looked up blankly, paintbrush poised above the canvas where he painted a still life.  “But, the light, Gina!”
            “I do not intend to be orphaned in this cold-hearted city.  What would I do without you?”
            He laughed and wiped his brush on a cloth, then threw it down onto a table piled with brushes and half-squeezed tubes of paint.  “You have made a good point.  You’re not just pretty, my girl, you’ve got something up here,” he tapped his forehead.
            She helped him move his things away then ran to place a bowl under the drip. 
            “When will you pose for me again, Gina? I have great hopes for the last painting I did.”
            “When you have sold another painting and we can afford some coal,” she said firmly.  “I am not stripping off in this cold.  And we need decent food.”
            “Aah.  I can taste a tender turkey breast stuffed with sweet Italian sausage and chestnuts.  That would be most welcome.”
            “We shall be eating your Still Life with Apples, Milo, long before that.” Gina watched as he settled at his easel once more, and pick up his brush.  There would be no more conversation for the afternoon. 
            She grabbed the broom and began to sweep the floor at the far end of the room.  She worked to warm herself.  She’d swept the floor that morning, but no matter how many times she cleaned it, it always looked dirty.  Work also helped to clear her head.  She was constantly thinking up schemes to leave horrid, foggy London.  She had been thirteen years old when her mother brought her to England, old enough to remember the sunny days and green hills of Tuscany. 
            She turned to study the bowl of wizened fruit and vase of wilting flowers she had purchased from the market that morning for Milo to paint.  Surely, the sun-ripened fruit of her homeland was sweeter.  Her mother had been like a delicate flower, she not thrived in an English winter.  She hated the cold and fog.  She was fond of saying that Italians knew how to live and the men knew how to love. 
            It was certainly true that the Englishmen who pursued Gina had money where their hearts should be.  They knew nothing of a love that took hold of you, mind, body, and soul.  To them she would be an acquisition, someone they could flaunt in front of their friends and boast about in their clubs.  She would have none of it.  She had promised her mother.
            When her mother had married Milo and came to England, she had become a much sort after artist’s model.  Even after her death, Gina and Milo remained loyal to their friends of the demi-world, the shadow world of fellow artists, models, writers, thespians, courtesans and musicians, through which the upper classes wandered, paying for anything they desired.  It could be an exciting world, but had a dark side of despair, poverty, ruin and untimely death.
            Her mother had died of inflammation of the lungs at thirty-six.  She was already ailing when she married Milo, fifteen years her elder.  She knew he would take care of Gina after she was gone.  Even when her health was failing, she would drag Gina to church every Sunday.  Her final words still echoed in Gina’s ears.  “We have a saying in Italy, sweet child.  You never forget your first love.  I loved your father and if only he’d lived....  No matter how hard life gets, don’t ever be tempted to sell your body, for that will destroy your soul.  Remember you are a good Christian girl.  Promise me!”
            Gina touched the hair-bracelet on her wrist, made with her mother’s lovely golden hair.  When she had asked her mother about her father, she would always turn away.  “Better that you don’t know.” Her standard reply left Gina wondering what made her so sad and reluctant to reveal the past.  Had her mother and father been married?
            “Bah,” Gina said, swatting at some imaginary speck of dirt.  She was sick of being grindingly poor.  The struggle to live tore the heart out of you and dragged you down.  She hated London, its miles of rat infested, filthy cobblestone alleys and shabby brick and stucco houses, the noise and the smells and the dirt.  She hated feeling desperately sad for the tatty, barefoot children.  She hated her cheap dresses, and longed to have something store-bought and pretty.  She hated their ugly, leaky attic rooms that no amount of cleaning could turn into a home, most of all. 
            A block away, the street prostitutes trolled between the gin shop and the pawnshop, younger than she, some of them.  Green from the country, they quickly become addicted to the drink and their gentle eyes turned hard.  Lying in bed at night, she’d listen to them out there under the gaslights.  Dancing, drinking, and singing into the small hours.  The sounds of their hollow laughter made her want to weep and pull a pillow over her head. 
            As she put away the broom, Gina’s thoughts turned to Milo.  How did he produce such beauty in his paintings, in a place like this? She put her hand to her mouth.  How could she be so ungrateful?
            “Did you say something, mio caro?” Milo asked, adding a highlight to a painted apple.  The apple had become his signature and appeared in most of his paintings.  His painted apple was so much fresher and redder than the one in the bowl.  Perhaps that was his secret, he saw life through rose-colored glasses.
            “No, Milo,” she said, going to stir the minestrone soup that with bread and cheese, would have to do them until the end of the week. 
            “You’re a good daughter, Gina,” he said absently.
Second Excerpt:
A knock came on Astrid’s dressing room door.  “Enter.” She continued to remove her makeup at her mirror her hair held back by a white band. 
            Dylan came in, ducking his dark head slightly.  A gesture she recognized, one of a tall man used to living in old houses. 
            She met his gaze in the mirror, the brilliant blue of his irises had caused women the world over to fall in love with him. 
            “I’m sorry we didn’t have a chance to chat before rehearsal,” he said.  His voice had an attractive, Irish lilt.   “I did hope to, but the flight was delayed.”
            Astrid swung round to face him.  “Only two takes.  I thought it helped in the end, kept it fresh.  Did you feel it went well?”
            “Good for me.  The more takes I do, the worse I get.” He grinned.  “Frank Sinatra refused to do more than one take.  I think he had something there.”
            She expected him to be arrogant, not unassuming, or was this part of his charm offensive? If so it was disarming.  Aware her face shone with cold cream she turned back to the mirror.  Grabbing a tissue, she quickly wiped it off.
            “You look great without makeup.”
            “Oh please!”
             “No.  You do, honestly.  Like a kid.”
            “I’m supposed to like that?” She pulled the Alice band from her long hair.  “French women are not afraid to grow old.”
            He laughed.  “You hardly need to worry about that.  Are you over here in England on your own?”
            She dropped the tissue into the waste basket.  Her hairdresser had been right.  She would have to be careful.  “I am.  Why?”
            Dylan leaned against the wall, his arms folded.  A smile pulled at the corners of his well-shaped mouth.  “I read somewhere that you and Philippe had broken up. I was going to offer my condolences.”
            “That article in The Truth? Pure fabrication. Philippe considered suing them, but in the end we couldn’t be bothered.” She picked up her hairbrush.  “We are still together, and very happy, thank you.”        
            “Then I pity all the young men,” he said, his hand on the doorknob.
            Did he disapprove of Philippe? Some men did resent older men dating young women, she knew.  “You are an actor who likes to mix work with pleasure, yes?” she said mildly.  The inference that he slept with all his leading ladies hung in the air.
            He frowned as he opened the door.  “Not usually.”
            The door closed behind him.  She’d been rude, and she wasn’t sure why.  She usually made an effort to get on with co-stars.  It could get quite difficult if you didn’t.  She shook her head.  After all, he’d only been flattering her, and that might have been his way of breaking the ice. 
            And why had she lied about Philippe? Was it because she wasn’t ready to let him go?  Or was it apprehension at the effect this man had on her.  She trembled when he came near her with the same sexual thrill she felt driving through the Bois de Boulogne.