Saturday, February 13, 2010

From The End Zone

Good evening all. I'm behind in my blogging, but not without good reason. I have a bunch of authors announcing new titles, and I've been super busy!

Welcome author Doreen Alsen and her At The End Zone series:

Book 1, Mike's Best Bet, introduces us to the quaint sports bar, The End Zone.

Meet handsome football coach Mike. He knows his sports, he knows his bets, and when he places a wager with the music teacher (scoff!) he knows he'll win. Only perfect Miss Andi isn't quite as prima-donna as he believes. She might like classical music. She might serve on the ballet's board. But she's got a few tricks up her sleeve -- not the least of which involve insight on Mike's favorite team, which stacks the odds in her favor one-hundred percent.

As this mismatched couple navigates through a world of differences, their charismatic personalities are certain to keep you entertained.

Mike's Best Bet will be released through the Champagne Rose line, on March 26, 2010.


He took his hands out of his pockets and held one out to her. “Dance with me.”

She shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t, but she made the mistake of looking into Mike’s green-flecked eyes. They were so hot, they practically scorched her. Oh boy was she a goner. She put her champagne down, put her hand into his, and followed him onto the dance floor.

He put his hands on her hips and pulled her in close to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and melted against him while the band played Duke Ellington’s Prelude to a Kiss.

Mike moved with all the elegance and grace of a natural athlete. The band’s alto sax lovingly crooned a hot melody that seemed made just for them. Andi sighed and lost herself in the moment.

It shouldn’t feel so good to be held by this man, but it did. He felt warm and solid and safe. Only traces of his aftershave lingered, so her nose caught elusive wisps of wood and spice. His thumbs rubbed up and down on her hips, which made her shiver. He didn’t know the song, but hummed along anyway, off-key. She couldn’t remember when she last had heard more beautiful music.

The music ended. For a long moment, they remained locked against each other, unaware of the applause that replaced the music. She looked up at him, then away. She didn’t want him to see more than she was ready to show.

Book 2, What Ian Wants, brings back our sexy professor Miss Andi left behind.

Ian's so unforgettable, it's hard to imagine anyone passing him up -- a fact waitress Gina can't help but notice. Only these two are so unsuitable for each other, so absolutely polar opposites, their excursions are comical to say the least. When they aren't at crossed-purposes, they're tender and oh so touching, they'll stay with you long after the last page is turned.

Look for What Ian Wants, in the Champagne line, on July 23, 2010.


He wore his eagerness to please like a cub scout wore his first merit badge. Her heart melted a little more. “Coffee sounds good, but don’t worry about it.” She reached in her purse. “I can get it.”

“No, I’ll get it. I insist.” He came from around the table and glommed onto her elbow, then pushed her into a seat. “Your feet must be aching. Just rest a second, and I’ll be right back.”

Stunned, Gina had no choice but to do as he said. Curious about the array of blue books, she picked one up, one he had already graded. It was all in French. The questions, the answers, his red pen comments, all in French.

She couldn’t understand a single word. She felt like a total doofus.

“Don’t mind those. I’ll gather them up and put them away.” He placed the large coffee in front of her, then moved into the booth and started to pick up the blue books. “I feel like I’m constantly grading papers. If I don’t keep up, they bury me.” Stuffing the papers into the open briefcase at his side, Ian dropped the lid. It landed with a soft thud. He looked at her, his eyes hopeful. “I don’t know how you take your coffee, so I brought both cream and sugar.” Jamming his hands in his pockets, he pulled out enough packets of sugar to put her in a coma, as well as a handful of creamers.

She reached for a creamer. “Just cream, thanks.” It made a hissing sound as she pulled the wrapper off the top. “What’s up?”

Ian looked away for a moment, pulled the glasses off his face and cleaned them with a paper napkin. “There’s no graceful way to ask this.” He studied his glasses before slipping them back on his face.

“Why don’t you just spit it out?”

“Right, then.” He nodded. “I need you to marry me.”

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