Blitz & Giveway for Pity Pact by Whitney Dineen

Pity Pact

Whitney Dineen

(Pity Series, #3)

Publication date: January 24th 2024

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

I always wondered who was crazy enough to apply to those reality dating shows…

Turns out, I’m that person. Paige Holland here—lifetime resident of Elk Lake, Wisconsin, and dedicated seventh-grade math teacher.

Unfortunately, if I don’t fall for one of the two guys who live right in Elk Lake I might have to move. This limits my choices to a substitute teacher I can’t stand or Tim, a guy I went through school with. It’s not that I can’t see being with Tim—he’s totes my type—but he’s so wounded from his divorce, he’s made it clear he’s only on the show to make his ex-wife jealous.

With one disaster after another being broadcast around the world, I’m seriously questioning why I thought a reality show was a good way to find love…

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Paige

Who in the world is the new woman walking into the ballroom? She must be someone special because all the cameras, except for the one pointed at Tim, turn in her direction. Staring at her, I realize she looks kind of familiar, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. I don’t generally hang out with highly polished and glamorous people, and this chick looks like she just walked off the pages of Vogue magazine.

Trina glides back across the ballroom with Tim trailing behind her. “We have a guest!” she announces with so much excitement, you’d think Jesus was here to bless the bread and wine.

On impossibly long legs and stilettos high enough to impress any of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, the new woman glides toward the host. “Trina …” she croons.

“Thank you for coming tonight, Eva.”

Holy hell! Eva? As in Tim’s ex, Eva?

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” She turns toward the camera closest to her and offers the most blindingly fake smile I’ve ever seen. No wonder her acting career never took off.

Meanwhile, Tim is standing next to Trina as stiff as a toy soldier awaiting his execution.

Eva walks toward him and when she arrives, croons, “Tim, it’s so good to see you again. How have you been?”

His expression morphs from shock to pure loathing. It’s clear he’s trying to decide his best course of action because he doesn’t respond for several seconds. When he finally breaks his silence, all he says is, “Eva.”

“Daaaarling …” She sounds like she’s a long-lost Gabor sister in those old-time movies. “I was crushed when I heard what a hard time you’re still having with our breakup.” I want to punch this woman right in the face.

Tim cocks his head to the side before replying, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Eva.”

Striving for a look of innocence and failing, she says, “Trina told me you’ve been unable to move on because you’re still in love with me.”

“I never said love, Eva.” Oh goody, Trina’s decided to enter the fray. “I said that Tim wasn’t emotionally free of you.” Potatoes, potahtoes, am I right?

“I know it was hard on Tim when I left.” Eva bats her eyes like she’s holding back tears. “But I had no choice. He and I got married too soon and when Holden showed up, I knew I had to go to him.” Her lashes flutter like a llama with conjunctivitis.

“Do you have anything to say to that, Tim?” Trina wants to know.

Tim glares at his ex. “You only knew Holden for a week before you left me. We’d been together for four years.”

Eva looks at Tim with pity before dropping a bomb. “Tim, I knew Holden before I’d ever met you.”

The look of horror on his face says it all. He’s about to lose it—spectacularly.

I feel compelled to do something to save him from this humiliation, but I don’t know what. Without thinking, I step forward and declare, “Which makes you the villain, not Tim!” I sound like I’m playing a live-action game of Clue. It was the butler in the pantry with a butter knife!

Eva turns her head and sneers at me condescendingly. “Who are you?”

“I’m Paige Holland.” When that doesn’t seem like a self-explanatory enough declaration, I add, “I’m an old friend of Tim’s.”

“Then why haven’t I ever heard of you?” she wants to know.

“Why didn’t Tim know about Holden?” I retaliate.

“Are you saying you and Tim were having an affair while he was married to me?” That’s not what I was saying, but it does make me wonder if Eva had been cheating on Tim throughout their marriage.

Before I can accuse her of that, Tim steps forward and takes my hand. “Paige, please stop trying to help.”

Part of me knows I should listen to him, but I don’t. Instead, I spin around and yell—yell— “No, Tim! This bimbo is not going to come in here and act like the wounded party. She’s the one who cheated, she’s the homewrecker …” Talk about giving Midwestern Matchmaker their money’s worth, I’m full-on guaranteeing they’ll be picked up for another ten seasons if they can keep delivering the level of drama I’m offering.

“Timothy …” Eva says, “I want to know if you were cheating on me?”

“So would I,” Trina feels the need to add.

Tim exhales loudly. “Paige and I went to school together. That’s all. We didn’t become friends until I moved home.”

While true, that kind of hurts. I just told the world we were old friends and he relegated me to mere acquaintance status. But then he squeezes my hand and adds, “But we’re very good friends now.” Aaaaand I melt.

“I think you’re lying,” Eva tells him.

“I can see why a liar might tend to believe the worst in people,” he retorts.

Eva spins toward Trina. “You said he was a hot mess. You said the only reason he came on this show was to get even with me!”

Before I know what I’m doing, I rush at Eva with the intention of ripping every last hair out of her head. Tim pulls me back in the nick of time, and reminds me, “This is going to be televised, Paige.”

“Not if I can help it!” I tell him. And this is where I totally lose my mind…

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Blitz & Giveaway for Pity Party by Whitney Dineen

Pity Party

Whitney Dineen

(Pity Series, #2)

Publication date: September 26th, 2023

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Melissa

I should have used my college degree to become a lawyer, politician, or heck, even a Time Lord—hey, it worked for Dr. Who. But no, I had to own a bridal boutique. Turns out that’s a terrible idea for someone with my lousy dating history.

Every day, I’m surrounded by the trappings of the perfect wedding, and I’m starting to resent all the smug almost-marrieds. I shouldn’t want to throat punch the brides, right?

Then Jamie Riordan moves to Elk Lake with his twelve-year-old daughter. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy—tall, gorgeous, successful, and clearly devoted to his kid.

Too bad his grumpy highness wants nothing to do with me.

I may not be his dream girl, but does he have to be so insulting about letting me know?

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

“Your total is two thousand forty-eight dollars,” I tell the beaming bride-to-be who’s nearly blinding me with her over-the-top white teeth. She’s like Ross Geller from that one episode of Friends.

I used to dream of being just like her—hopeful, excited, no visible baby bump while planning my impending nuptials. Unfortunately, life has kicked me in the teeth often enough that I’m slowly stepping away from that fantasy. Instead, I’m focusing on the fact that women like her are probably more stressed out than your average sky diver during a tornado. Will he say yes? Does his mother hate me as much as I think she does? Should we really be spending this kind of money on one party? And the most important—Does he know I was serious when I said I don’t clean toilets? The list goes on and on.

“You’re the best, Melissa!” the petite blonde with the unnatural orange tan gushes. She says this like I just brought her bail money at two in the morning. As she hands me her credit card, she adds, “You must love owning a bridal shop! I mean, could there be a better job?”

I didn’t think so ten years ago when I became my mom’s partner at Bride’s Paradise. I had recently graduated from college and was so full of hope and anticipation about my own wedding I couldn’t imagine anything better. Not that I was engaged or even dating anyone at the time, but I was raised on television shows like Say Yes to the Dress, Bridezilla, and David Tutera’s My Fair Wedding. I’d fantasized about my big day for over a decade at that point.

For a generation that is meant to believe there’s more to life than marriage, we sure spend a lot of time dreaming about it. Being fed a constant visual diet of what our big day is supposed to look like wreaks havoc with expectations. Somehow a wedding has become more about the show and what we wear than about true love.

Had I only gotten hooked on Law and Order or Dr. Who, I might have become a lawyer or even a Time Lord. Note to self: investigate the kind of credentials needed to become a Time Lord.

I hand the credit card back to Brooklyn as her wedding party circles around her. Her maid of honor squeals—loudly—“Oh, my GOD, Brook! This is it!! You said yes to the dress!” We’ve already taken pictures with the requisite signage and hashtags to ensure that everyone the bride has ever met will know where she bought her gown. Hashtags are the backbone of my business. #BridesParadise #ElkLakeWisconsinWeddings #LoveIsInTheAir #ImSoSickOfMyJobICouldSpit

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Blitz & Giveaway for Pity Date by Whitney Dineen

Pity Date

Whitney Dineen

(Pity Series, #1)

Publication date: May 18th 2023

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Faith

I should’ve known it wouldn’t work out.

In all my twenty-nine years, life has never been smooth sailing when a man was involved. Astor Hill was everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner—handsome, successful, and interested in me. Until he started cheating. The cherry on the sundae is finding out the truth less than two weeks before we’re supposed to stand up for our best friends at their wedding.

When a staggeringly good-looking and kind stranger comes to town and offers to take me to the wedding, I jump at his proposal. Who cares if he’s gay? Astor doesn’t need to know that.

Teddy

She thinks I’m gay?!

I’m taking a vacation from Hollywood and going back to Elk Lake. My grandfather hasn’t been doing well after Gram died and he needs my support. Luckily, I’m between blockbuster movies so I can make the time.

My first stop is Rosemary’s Bakery for one of the gingersnaps I remember so fondly from my childhood. The only problem is that the girl at the counter has eaten them all. After spilling my tea on me, she bursts into tears and tells me her troubles. I should be annoyed but I’m oddly charmed.

I know what it’s like to be dumped by a cheater, so I do the only thing I can think of: I offer to take her to the wedding to make her ex jealous. Unfortunately, with the help of the tabloids, things quickly spiral out of control…

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Faith

I’ve had an invisible target painted on me that only members of the opposite sex can see. And boy are they determined to shoot me through the heart.

It started with Bobby McEntire in the first grade. My best friend, Anna, used to help me chase him around the playground as a way of declaring my undying devotion. He missed the point entirely and tripped me so that I fell face first into a mud puddle. That single act of war ended any love I’d once felt for him.

In the fourth grade, Kenny Franks caught my eye. He wasn’t the typical boy girls pined for, which made me think he could possibly share my feelings. He had moderately bucked teeth, a nose that turned up just enough to appear porcine, and he wore glasses. Surely, I was enough to catch the heart of one such as him.

Alas, when I asked him to be my boyfriend on Sadie Hawkins Day that same year, he laughed in my face. Laughed. At me. The disdain I felt lasted through our senior year in high school. When he approached me at a friend’s graduation party and asked why I hated him so much, I reverted to childish ways and threw my drink on him before walking away. How dare he forget his transgression?

Then there was that tourist I kissed—my first!—at a beach party the summer before my freshman year. I never got his name, nor did I see him any summers after that. I can’t really say what I felt for him was love, but a definite hormonal reaction took place. Also, I may have pretended that he was my long-distance boyfriend at Katie Ramsey’s big back to school sleepover the week before we entered the hallowed halls of Elk Creek High School. Go, Crappies!—as in the fish, not the poop emoji.

In high school, I was all about Adam Sanchez. Adam was so far out of my league, I knew nothing could ever come of us, but that didn’t stop my fantasies. I spent the whole four years imagining scenarios where he would claim me for his own. My favorite was the one where he strode into the lunchroom like a rock star taking center stage. He stopped right in front of me before loudly declaring my perfection to one and all. Then he got down on one knee and asked me to homecoming/prom/the spring formal—basically, whichever dance was on the horizon. None of that ever happened.

Obviously.

Junior year in college, I thought I’d found my life partner in Trevor Blake. Trevor was your typical tall, dark, and handsome specimen. He was sporty and studious. But more important than both of those things, he had a sense of humor that kept me laughing. The only problem was that after a year of dating, Trevor still hadn’t put any serious moves on me. When confronted with why, he claimed it was because he wanted us to save ourselves until we were married.

He saw us getting married, so, yay! But also, we did not live in Victorian times, so it was kind of hard to trust that was the real reason. In retrospect, I’m hugely grateful I didn’t believe him. A happenstance that was firmly cemented when I caught him making out with his roommate at a kegger their fraternity was throwing. As far as gaydar goes, I didn’t have any.

I dated a few different guys in my twenties, but none of them sent my heart into atrial fibrillation. I simply enjoyed going out with them while I was waiting for “the one.”

Enter Astor Hill. I knew he was it for me the night we met. One look at his sandy-haired Leonardo de Caprio (from Titanic) savoir faire, and my heart rate took off like a particularly vigorous Fourth of July fireworks display. Boom, boom, boom! Everything about him shouted he was destined to be Mr. Faith Reynolds. Although, I’m sure I would have taken his last name instead. I mean, Faith Hill worked so well for, you know … Faith Hill, that I was sure to have equal success. Even though I was no singer …

But then Astor showed his true colors and once again I was left behind. That’s when I should have probably converted to Catholicism and committed my life to God, a la the convent life.

I might have actually done that too, had it not been for the pity date …

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Blitz & Giveaway for At Last by Whitney Dineen

At Last

Whitney Dineen

(Seven Brides for Seven Mothers, #8)

Publication date: February 1st 2023

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Queen Charlotte of Malquar has been hard at work setting up all her children, but so far, she’s been unable to find someone for Sophie.

Princess Sophie was supposed to be the second royal sibling to marry, but she broke her engagement when she found out her fiancé was cheating on her.

Sophie has all but given up hope of finding her own fairytale ending. That is, until a mystery bouquet of roses shows up at the palace. The note says they’re from Arlo Hammond. After years of pining for the man she thought was her everlasting love, Sophie finally released all thoughts of Arlo, only to have him show up again thirteen years later. Why?

Will Arlo’s explanation win Sophie’s forgiveness? Will she give him another chance and find her own happy ending at last? Or will the heartache of the past be too much to forgive?

Find out in the final installment of Dineen’s bestselling and deliciously romantic Seven Brides for Seven Mothers series!

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Curling up on my living room sofa, I snuggle under my favorite cashmere throw before picking up the telephone. After punching in the number, I smile when I hear the voice of my dearest friend from university days. “Sophie!” Avery sounds both surprised and delighted. “It’s been ages. How are you?”

“I’m confused,” I tell her bluntly.

“The farthest fork out is for the fish course,” she teases.

“Ha ha ha.” I love how easily we fall into old banter. It’s always been like this between us. But of course, I didn’t call to chit chat. “Do you remember Arlo Hammond?”

I hear her choke on what I’m guessing is her morning coffee. Having grown up in the States, Aves never was one for tea. “Of course I remember. But I thought he was old news.”

“He’s been sending me flowers once a month for the last seven months.”

“And you’re just telling me now?”

“I figured I’d wait to see if he said anything interesting.”

“And?”

I hear a sharp knock, which I’m hoping is someone from the kitchen with the decadent sweet breads I’ve ordered. Even though my waistline doesn’t need the indulgence, I’m still going to enjoy them. “Hold on, Aves,” I tell her before getting up to retrieve my breakfast.

Padding across my living room rug in bare feet, I pull the door open. My enthusiasm vanishes when I see that my visitor is not from the kitchen. It’s my mother. “What are you doing here?” I greet none too politely.

“Good morning to you, too.” She pushes her way through the door.

“I’m on an important call, Mum. I can’t chat right now.” If I tell her who I’m talking to, she’ll simply demand to get on the phone and have her own conversation with Avery.

Stopping in her tracks next to the trestle table against the wall in my foyer, she says, “I see you received the flowers that arrived yesterday.”

“I did.” When she doesn’t immediately respond, I add, “Is there any way we can talk later? I really need to get back to my call. It’s rather important.” Let her assume I’m planning the next big charity event, and child literacy itself is at stake. Participating in charitable events is nearly all I do as a working royal, and while I know it’s an important contribution, it sometimes bores me to the bone.

“I’ll be in the parlor between ten and eleven,” she tells me before backtracking toward the door. Before she walks through it, she adds, “I’ll expect you at ten.”

“I’ll do what I can, Mum.” I’m about to shut the door when I spot the serving girl from the kitchen walking down the hall with my breakfast. I indicate that I’m leaving the door open for her before hurrying back to the couch.

As soon as I pick up the phone, I hear Avery yelling at someone, “Not there! I asked you to put them in the linen closet.”

“Who are you lording it over?” I ask with a laugh.

“My husband, of course. We’re only now getting down to the business of unpacking all the bedding.”

“But you’ve been married and in the house for over six months,” I tell her.

“You know me, Soph, I’m not that fussy. I’m okay with washing the old sheets and then returning them to the bed. However, my mother-in-law feels that kind of bohemian nonsense isn’t good enough for her Tony. She made me register for six sets of linens and now I have to store them all. I should dump them off at her house.”

“I don’t even have that many extra sheets,” I tell her.

“I venture you don’t have any idea how many sheets there are in that castle you call home. But you didn’t call me to talk about bedding. You called about Arlo.”

As the server pushes the trolley over the threshold, I motion for her to leave it there before mouthing a quick thank you. When she shuts the door behind her, I ask my friend, “What is he doing getting in touch after all these years?”

“You can’t guess?”

“Avery, what happened between us was over thirteen years ago. It barely even started before it was over.”

“You talked about him constantly for two years,” she reminds me.

It’s true, I did. Arlo Hammond made a huge impact on my life in a very short amount of time, but there was no way there could ever have been anything between us. “I did what I was supposed to do, and I forgot him.”

“Why were you supposed to forget him again?”

“Avery Flemming, you know perfectly well.”

“What I know is that your parents are much more open-minded than you give them credit for.”

I don’t give her the satisfaction of agreeing with her. I simply say, “Maybe …”

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Website / Goodreads / Twitter / Facebook / Instagram

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Blitz & Giveaway for Mistle Text by Whitney Dineen & Melanie Summers

Mistle Text

Whitney Dineen & Melanie Summers

(An Accidentally in Love Story, #5)

Publication date: September 25th 2021

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

Twas the text before Christmas…

Twenty-eight-year-old Holly Snow is the only mother her four-year-old niece remembers. Three years earlier, when her sister and brother-in-law were killed, Holly’s dream of becoming an international flight attendant was put on hold so she could be home for baby Faith. Holly is doing everything she can to keep the rent paid, including working as an online travel agent, filing medical claims, and cleaning apartments in her building. When her friend Maggie tells her that her boss needs someone to buy his Christmas gifts, she leaps at the opportunity.

Tall, dark and Scroogy, investment banker, Archibald Harrington is too busy to do his own Christmas shopping. When his assistant tells him she knows of a professional shopper, he happily checks another dreaded task off his holiday list. The last thing Archie is expecting is for his hired elf to text him insistently to find out more about the people on list. The last thing Holly expects is to develop feelings for grumpy man who’s stealing her Christmas spirit.

Will there be a Holiday miracle, or will Holly and Archie miss their chance at love? Find out in the fifth installment of the Accidentally in Love Series.

Goodreads / Amazon

Only 99¢ for a limited time!

—

SNEAK PEEK:

“My boss needs a personal shopper for Christmas, and I’ve already told him I know the very best one in Manhattan.” Toni gives me an open-mouthed smile, clearly expecting me to jump up and down.

“Your boss. As in Archibald Snooty Pants the Forty-Second?” I ask, pursing my lips.

She opens her mouth, but I cut her off with one finger in the air. “You complain about the man all the time.”

“It’s not like he’s a horrible person, he’s just a one trick pony—all work and no play. Plus, it’s not like you’ll have to work side-by-side with him or anything. You probably won’t even have to see him.”

“I’m not a personal shopper,” I tell her. “Unless his family and friends want ramen noodles or discount t-shirts from the guy who sells them out of his trunk in front of my apartment building, I would have no idea what to buy.”

“Yeah, well, Archie doesn’t know that.” She pumps her eyebrows up and down like a comedian.

“Toni, you told me the guy was a rich stuck-up preppy from the Hamptons. While I would love nothing more than to make some extra money, I don’t have the foggiest notion how to shop for rich people.”

“So watch some holiday episodes of Real Housewives and see what they buy each other. He’ll tell you how much to spend on each person. Come on, Holl, it’s not brain surgery. It’s shopping. You know how to shop. And you need the money.”

“What if he hates me?” I despise feeling so pathetic, but I’m totally out of my league here.

“Then he hates you. So what? Believe me when I tell you, Archibald Harrington only thinks about work. You can’t take anything he says personally.”

Dread slams into me like a wrecking ball. “How much do you think I can make?”

“Enough to pay for Christmas and at least the next three months of Faith’s preschool tuition. How can you pass that up?”

The answer is, I can’t. And if it means working for a cranky billionaire, then Toni is right. I’ll do whatever I have to do in order to take care of Faith. I just can’t guarantee I’ll like it.

“Fine,” I tell her. “How many gifts am I supposed to buy?”

“He’ll need all of his family gifts, which include his godfather’s family. He’s spending Christmas with them in Newport. He wants you to cover his business gifts, as well. The VIPs are starred, meaning those particular gifts need to be extra-amazing. I’ve also made you a list of everything that I want, so I don’t wind up with another Monte Blanc pen. I’ve already sold three of those suckers on eBay and I only get a fraction of what they’re worth.”

“I don’t even know what a Monte Blanc pen is.” My chest tightens like I’m not getting enough oxygen.

She hands me a piece of paper. “This is a list of websites to check out. You can order everything and have it delivered here.”

“Why can’t I just have everything sent to his office? What am I going to do with it?”

After taking a healthy swig of white zinfandel, Toni says, “You’re going to wrap everything up and make it look like Santa himself cracked the whip on the gift-wrapping elves. Once you have everything purchased and ready, I’ll send a car to pick the gifts up.”

“You’ll send a car, will you?” I tease.

“Yeah, well, I can do those fancy things in the name of my boss.”

“How am I going to pay for everything?” I ask. “I have about two hundred dollars of credit left on my card. I don’t think that’s going to cut it.”

Toni opens her purse and hands me a shiny black credit card. “There’s no limit, so if you don’t mind doing a little jail time, you could have a lot of fun.”

“No limit? I can’t imagine such a thing.” I fantasize about what damage I could do with plastic like this. Not only could I pay for Faith’s school for the rest of the year, but I could also get my mom into one of those nursing homes that has a hair salon and restaurant. I could upgrade to a two-bedroom apartment, so Faith doesn’t have to sleep in the closet anymore, and I could even splurge and buy myself some real leather gloves.

“You’re imagining, aren’t you?” Toni jolts me out of my daydream.

“I most certainly am. The first thing I’d do is buy Faith whatever winter coat she wanted, and then I’d take her out to a nice restaurant.”

Toni rolls her eyes. “If you’re going down for a crime, you’ve got to think bigger.”

I stare at the card for a second, then look back up at Toni. “How can you stand working for someone who has so much? Don’t you just want to steal cash out of his wallet once in a while?” I don’t really have the heart of a felon, I’m just tired of always being broke.

“The nice thing about Archie is that even though he has the personality of a killer shark, he’s generous. He has a Friday lunch catered for his staff every week, and he makes sure to float us enough extras that none of us are tempted to steal from him. He’s a good businessman.”

“Even though he’s a stuck-up preppy?” I ask for clarification.

“Exactly.”

I look at the list of stores she thinks I should shop at—Tiffany’s, Saks Fifth Avenue, Harrods, The House of Bijan … “What’s my budget?”

She hands me another piece of paper. The handwriting isn’t hers, so I’m guessing it’s Archie’s. “He wants me to spend four thousand dollars on his mother?!”

“Yup. He wants her to have two gifts. One of them needs to be the main. The other can be fancy ass chocolates or something.”

“Right, but probably not gas station chocolates.”

“Quit stressing, Holls, you’ve got this.”

I don’t know why, but for the life of me I can’t see this ending well…

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Author links
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally - then she'll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for 'K' Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn't require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she's not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken 'from above'. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something--more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

Author links
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Blitz & Giveaway for Queen of Hearts by Whitney Dineen

Queen of Hearts

Whitney Dineen

(Seven Brides for Seven Mothers, #6)

Publication date: October 14th 2022

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

* All books in this series read as standalones.

Queen Charlotte of Malquar has a talent. She’s already helped two of her children find mates, and now she’s convinced her daughter’s new secretary would be a perfect partner for her remaining single son.

Agnes Dupuis has a plan. She’s going to work for the royal family for a couple of years before opening her own upscale employment agency. When she starts her job with Princess Aubrey, she knows everything is on track. After a short time, she gets transferred to the crown prince’s staff, and she couldn’t be more ecstatic.

At thirty-five, Prince Andrew knows it’s past time for him to find a bride. Unfortunately, it’s a nearly impossible task. While he would like to marry for love, it doesn’t look like that will be an option. His future wife will be queen one day and she must have all the necessary skill sets to thrive in that role.

Sparks fly when Agnes and Drew start to work together. Drew fights his attraction for his new secretary as hard as he can. Meanwhile, Agnes doesn’t know what she’s doing wrong. She can’t seem to do anything to make the prince happy.

Will Queen Charlotte be responsible for another match? Or are Agnes and Drew destined to forever butt heads.

Find out in the deliciously fun sixth installment of the Seven Brides for Seven Mothers Series

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

Sir, I have the update you requested on McMillian.” In the month that I’ve been Prince Andrew’s secretary, I can count on one hand the number of times he’s looked at me when I’m speaking. Currently, I’m attempting to communicate with his back.

Waving his hand in the air in what I can only construe as a dismissive manner, he says, “Leave it on my desk and I’ll read it later.”

“It’s not a written update.” Try as I might, I can’t keep the edge from my voice. While the rest of the royal family treat me kindly, Andrew has never been so inclined. He acts like I’m his own personal robot who doesn’t require basic courtesy.

He continues to face the window, allowing me the opportunity to study him. He’s taller than most at three inches over six feet, with proud broad shoulders, and short dark hair so thick a bird could nest in it—there’s something about my new boss’s appearance that brings to mind Disney’s Prince Charming. It was Cinderella who had the bird fetish, right?

“Then put it in writing and leave it on my desk.” The sharpness of his tone snatches me from the precipice of the illusion that Andrew might have Charming’s personality. No, nothing charming here.

“Yes, sir.” I shift on my heels as I start to feel a blister forming. These infernal stilettos. I could wear sporting shoes to work for all Prince Andrew would ever notice. “Will that be all, sir?”

He abruptly turns around and glares at me, his penetrating brown eyes practically nailing me to the floor. “No, that’s not all. Will McMillian be coming back to work soon?”

“Um … well … I wouldn’t think so. He’s still in San Francisco receiving treatments for his Parkinson’s disease.”

The prince grunts loudly. “Has his replacement been found yet?”

Is this guy a moron? “I’m his replacement, sir. I thought you knew that.” My spine straightens, making me very close to his own height with my new shoes.

“I was under the impression you were a temp.” His eyebrow cocks in such a supercilious manner, it’s all I can do not to punch him.

“I started out that way, but I was informed last week that I was doing such a good job I was being made a permanent member of your staff.” Put that in your pipe …

“Who told you that?” he demands angrily. Instead of letting me answer that the Master of Household himself told me, Andrew continues, “As far as I’m concerned, you are not permanent.”

How in the world am I supposed to respond to that? The whole point of me working in the royal household is to make a strong enough connection to open my own employment agency. Once I do that, I’ll be able to supply staff to the palace. The only way that’s going to happen is to impress my current boss. The same man who appears to hate me.

So, while I want to take my shoe off and smack Andrew over the head with the sharp pointed heel, I force myself to ask, “Is there something you’d like me to do that I’m not currently doing?”

His glare darkens as he takes a step forward. I stand rooted to the floor, unable to look away. “You’re a woman.”

“How astute of you.” Yes, my response is snotty, but I’ve had just about enough of being treated like a disposable entity by this patronizing man.

“Excuse me?” Another step.

“Prince Andrew, my being a woman in no way hinders my ability to perform my duties with precision. In fact, I would argue that my being a woman makes me more efficient.”

“How do you figure that?” How in the world did I have a crush on this arrogant beast throughout my entire adolescence? I don’t care how gorgeous he is, the prince is not a nice man. Let me rephrase that. He’s not nice to me. He seems to love everyone else.

“Women are much better multi-taskers than men.” I raise one finger in the air to start ticking off my points. Another finger goes up. “We’re very attuned to details …” More join in. “We’re empathetic, nurturing, and are able to see more than what is required of us.” If I don’t stop talking now, I may truly be out of a job.

“And you’re saying these qualities are inherent to your sex? That men do not possess them?” If he walks any closer to me, he’ll be standing behind me.

I force my gaze up to meet his. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“Prove it.”

I reach up and pick an invisible piece of fluff from his collar. “Your shirt is starting to fray.” I turn my gaze back to his in a challenging manner. “Your valet is a man, is he not?”

“You know he is.”

“If your valet were a woman, you would be wearing an impeccable shirt with no sign of wear.” That may or may not be an accurate statement as I’ve made up the sorry condition of his apparel. It appears that women can also be liars when it suits them.

“Are you now applying for the job of my valet?” I know he’s being facetious, but I can’t help the stirring I feel at the thought of what that job would entail. Assisting Andrew in the bath or shower if needed, helping him to go from a naked state to a clothed one, undressing him for bed at night … It’s getting hot in here.

“I don’t want Finnley’s job. I’m merely saying that women are more detail oriented. That’s all.”

“I leave my bedchamber at eight o’clock every morning.”

“How lovely for you.” I mean, seriously, what else am I going to say?

“You will now meet me there at seven forty-five and inspect my clothing for any imperfections before I start my day.”

“But I don’t come to work until nine.” Surely, he doesn’t expect me to get here early to make sure another member of his staff is doing his job.

“You now arrive at seven thirty so that you can get to my rooms by seven forty-five.” He leans down so menacingly, if he were a tiger, I’d be afraid for my life. “That is, if you want to keep your position. If you’re unable to do so, I’ll gladly hire a man to replace you.”

So that’s his game. He’s actively looking for a way to get rid of me. If the success of my future agency wasn’t on the line, I’d turn around and walk out of his office without a backward glance. Unfortunately, that action will not aid my plans. “Would you like me to bring your coffee up with me?” I mean, hell, if I’m moonlighting as his valet’s helper, maybe he wants me to take on some kitchen duties.

“I think I can trust the kitchen to deliver my coffee.” He cocks his head to the side, before adding, “Unless you care to complain about them, as well.”

I shake my head vigorously, hoping to activate some good sense. I really don’t need to get into any more trouble. I look at my watch and see that it’s nearing five. “If I’m expected back here so early, I’ll head out now.”

“I’m afraid I’ll still need you here until six o’clock every day.”

Being that I’ve never seen him past our four o’clock meeting since the day I started working for him, I’m certain this is a lie. Which of course can only mean one thing.

Prince Andrew has just declared war on me.

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries -- not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers' Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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