I think it's the anal one that makes me giggle. but they are all fun. Speaking of Unexpected Daddy, let's start there.
When twenty-six-year-old Joey Beirs is summoned to the emergency room one evening, the last thing he expects to find is that his twin brother and Jeremy's wife have both been killed in a car accident, leaving him an unexpected daddy to his newborn niece, Abby. Geoff is in his forties, an out-of-work carpenter whose unemployment is running out. He's also late to come out of the closet, a wounded man who has lost everything by admitting what he is... including his daughter. Geoff is good with kids and adores Abby. It's a match made in heaven. But can both of them overcome their hurts and accept that the age difference doesn't matter as much as finding what they've both lost... a stable family?
All the Fixin' is a new title from Marie Rochelle. Shea Anderson has longed to feel hazel-eyed hunk Craig Clark Evans' lips pressed against hers. But Craig has hated her since his aunt left her as the sole owner of her company, Luscious Lips. He is determined to uncover how Shea tricked his dying aunt into signing over all the stocks of the family business to her and not him, but every time he looks into her dark eyes, his desire for her grows and other, more pleasurable thoughts enter his mind. It doesn't matter how much he might want the ebony goddess in his bed, he plans to do whatever it takes to get his family business back. Will Craig come to his senses before it's too late and Shea's love for him is gone forever?
Kally Jo Surbeck brings us a supernatural tale with gods and mortals in The Awakening. Some say she dances too close to Hades. Why dance with a god of the Underworld when it’s her power that determines when humans pass? Her sisters call her morbid, and she laughs. Two of her sisters are called artists--a weaver and a mixer. No. Atropos believes it is she who is the true artist. The knowledge of life and death gives humans their ultimate passion and ultimate drive. Therefore, with her shears she breathes passion, hope, sadness, sorrow, drive, and determination, all that and more, she breathes into the human with the snip of her shears. But, what if she miscalculates a life? What if a time is cut too short?
Ghost Love by Nelli Rees is set in Moscow 1989 and present day England. As the Soviet Union crumbles, young, naïve and idealistic Tonia Voronina, meets and falls in love with an English boy, Peter Monroe, while they are studying together in Moscow. Theirs is a forbidden romance, but such is its strength that despite the ever present threat of discovery and public humiliation, Tonia and Peter continue their clandestine meetings. Peter asks Tonia to marry him only to mysteriously disappear. 26 years later, a life-toughened and recently divorced Toni Graham comes to live in ‘The Nook’ and there discovers that Peter had always loved her and tried to protect her from the jealous and vindictive Maintree clan. As strange and disturbing events begin to threaten both her and her daughters, Toni must look to the shade of Peter for help. Toni, being forced to revisit the bitter-sweet memories of those heady days in Moscow, realizes that true love really does conquer all … even death.
The last title I have for you this week is Safari Heat by Adam Mann, which is his first title with Phaze Books. Nick, a widower, arrives in Kenya with the difficult job of working on two former settler estates that the government has allocated to landless African farmers. Involved with horses most of his life, he gravitates to the world of polo and racing in Nairobi. Sophie, a beautiful saree-clad temptress, has recently divorced and is on the prowl like a lioness. Packing her tent in the back of her Jeep, Sophie decides to take Nick on a safari to the Masai Mara. The safari heats up when Nick becomes entangled in the snare set for him. But will the hunted become the hunter?
Here is a taste of Safari Heat:
I took a deep breath as I drove into the garden in the front of the house. My mother was in the kitchen preparing dinner. We did not have a cook, but there was a young African maid helping my mother. She kissed me and told me to go and see my father in the stable yard. I did and my father also kissed me and held me tight for a moment.
I wandered around the yard and took some time in the largest paddock, looking at the mares with their foals, all about three months old, as it was mid-year here in Kenya. Some of the foals came to look at me, and one mare remembered me and came to see if I had a present for her. I surrendered one of the carrots I had purloined from my mother’s kitchen, and the mare shook her head as she ate it. One of the foals, a colt, came to see what I had, but refused to taste the carrot, even though he had sniffed it suspiciously.
I went back to the house and up to my room. Nothing much had changed so I took a shower and changed my clothes for dinner with my parents.
As I said earlier, I am nearly 31. I am not a blonde, but have light brown hair with a slight wave in it. I keep it long and often have it tied in a ponytail, but tonight decided to leave it untied. I am about 1.75m tall, that is about 5ft 8ins in the old system, and normally I weigh about 63kgs, but just recently had shed a few pounds, so I was probably about 60kgs, or just over 132lbs. I’ve never been fat and always enjoyed staying fit. I have never gone jogging, but have ridden horses a lot, especially at home. Now you know.
There were just the three of us for dinner.
“Where is Regina?” I asked. Regina has been our housemaid-cum-cook-cum-laundress for many years.
“She’s gone back to her village,” explained my mother, “but maybe she will stay there now, which is why we have a new maid, who is called Rebecca.” We discussed the village and tribe Rebecca had come from, which is important in the Kenya context.
My father had a lot to say about his horses, and smiling, reminded me he needed someone to help with the exercising in the morning. Thank goodness we never talked about my impending divorce, or Johnnie. Perhaps I’m a coward, but we would have plenty of time to talk about that in the days to come.
“I’m going to Nairobi next Sunday,” stated my father. “We’ve a two-year-old in the second race, and maybe you’d like to come?”
My mother smiled her encouragement, but said nothing.
“Can I decide later?” I told, not asked my father, who nodded his agreement.
“I’m thinking about getting a job again,” I said.
“I heard that the Morgans are looking for help,” reported my mother, who had obviously been wondering how she was going to broach the subject, and had been waiting for me to give her an opening.
“Why don’t you drive over there in the morning,” suggested my father. The Morgans are an old settler family with a large estate, who breed cattle for beef, and also grow barley for malt and thence beer, which pleases the government.
“How’s the telephone working?” I countered, as I wanted to go but would have liked to call them first.
My father shrugged, which I understood to be ‘sometimes,’ and pointed at the instrument lying on the sideboard, and which had been stubbornly silent for some time. The mobile phone system had not yet reached these remote farming areas.
We talked a bit more, but I could not help myself yawning and volunteered to go to bed.