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NEW RELEASE BLAST ~ Destiny’s Choice by Victoria Saccenti
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No one evades Fate. Especially when the escape route is cracked and full of holes.
As a naïve young woman, Marité Muro nearly drowned in a maelstrom of confusing emotions stirred by two very different men. One whose tortured soul tugged at her heart, another whose scorching touch made her innocent body want…more.
Four years in a Spanish prep school gave her time to gain perspective, and now she’s come home to Florida knowing what she wants. The one man she’s never been able to forget, and she’s ready to prove their age difference is no obstacle.
Vietnam left scars on Brian MacKay, some visible, some invisible—and infinitely more dangerous. His war buddy’s sister-in-law has ripened into a tempting, irresistible woman, but she is forbidden fruit. Yet she challenges his resolve until, in a moment of weakness, his demons slip free.
Marité isn’t sure why the man who held her closer than skin is suddenly holding her at arm’s length, but she isn’t afraid to fight for him. Even when someone returns from the past who could destroy everything. Her home. Her family. And Brian’s love.
EXCERPT:
December 1969
You’re late…you’re late. Where the heck are you? Out of the corner of her eye, Marité Muro scanned the hallway of the chapel. To her mounting frustration, several attendees standing next to a column blocked her view. She could stare forever and accomplish nothing. Neither the people nor the column would move out of her way. Reality does stink. She didn’t have X-ray vision or mental superpowers like the superheroes in her favorite comics and fantasy novels. Her human anatomy had its limitations, and just to reinforce that concept, a painful stab attacked her temples as a multitude of sparks filled her vision. Half-blind, she tangled the tip of her elegant new shoe with the footed base of a nearby massive candleholder, and she nearly flew forward. Mumbling a curse that would’ve shocked her mother, Marité froze in place, waiting for her vision to clear.
Thanks to the futile search, she’d almost made a fool of herself in front of everyone and, worse, had missed key aspects of a ritual she didn’t know well. She should be following the ceremony. Any minute, the spotlight and all eyes would be on her, which meant ignoring the stupid voice that wouldn’t stop nagging in her mind. The incessant taunts had begun as soon as she took her place by the baptismal font: Go ahead. Turn around. Check the crowd, silly girl. How else will you know? Well, screw the voice. She had an important role and should appear focused on the celebration—same as Brian, her partner in the ceremony—or at least pretend.
Still, she couldn’t stop thinking of Michael. Why aren’t you here?
How about a little peek? the voice insisted. Shifting her gaze to the left hallway, she tried again, seeking a body, a shadow, some movement, anything that might indicate her cousin’s arrival. Nope. Nothing. Zip.
You’re going to ruin it if you don’t show up. How could he miss the triple christening when it meant so much to everyone? The entire family had flown in from the Old Country, not to mention friends from all over. Forget the relatives, she had dreamed about this occasion for weeks, had bought this pink chiffon dress and complementary shoes, hoping to regain his attention. She wanted him to see her among adults, doing adult things like a young lady. Maybe then she’d impress the indifference out of him and the uncomfortable disaffection would end. Not so long ago, he would’ve insisted on driving her. He would’ve been full of advice on the ride over. He used to be so protective and supportive, so affectionate, but lately—
The clinking sound of the swaying censer and Father O’Leary’s voice grew louder. He’d moved from infant to infant, performing the sacramental rite: dabbing bits of salt in their mouths, sprinkling the tiny foreheads with holy water, and lastly anointing them with chrism. And now it was Rebecca’s turn, the gorgeous child cradled in her arms. Marité glanced at the beaming parents standing off to her right, Raquel and Matthew Buchanan, her sister and brother-in-law. Dismissing her earlier preoccupation, Marité sent a silent prayer on their behalf for a life full of well-deserved happiness. They’d struggled enough.
Father O’Leary recited the questions to the godparents, and Marité answered in unrehearsed unison with Brian. The sound of his deep voice, full of emotion and self-assured, rang in her ears as spirals of thick church incense wafted around her with its heady scent. A dreamy feeling overcame Marité. Each I do response seemed to roll out of Brian’s lips in slow motion. The words echoed throughout the room, then ricocheted inside her mind in giant swells. A sense of déjà vu transported her to a distant time in a faraway chamber, richly ornate and full of golden lights, nowhere she knew or had seen before… The experience didn’t last; it ended with the last question but left her shivering. She looked Brian’s way.
“Brian?”
He leaned forward. “Lil’ godmother?”
“Forget it. It’s nothing,” she said quickly. Whatever she’d seen, Brian obviously had not. No point in pursuing it further.
Brian MacKay, Matthew’s best friend and ex-war buddy, was the happiest person she’d ever known in all of her fifteen years. His smile could brighten the gloomiest day. In these days of the Vietnam War, men who survived the jungle came home either physically damaged or with broken spirits, sometimes both. Not Brian. His cheerful disposition had carried him through exhausting physical therapy sessions—she’d heard Raquel and Matthew talk—and conquered his wounds. She watched in awed respect as he moved or walked about, displaying his faltering step like a badge of honor and the ever-present cane like a scepter.
Despite the seven-year gap between them, Brian didn’t condescend to her. He treated her as an equal, and she liked that quality best. When she learned Brian had agreed to become Rebecca’s godfather, she’d been overjoyed and honored. The sacrament would not only bind them to the child but to each other, as compadres in a very special lifelong relationship, almost like parents. Her thoughts pivoted to her absent cousin…and yep, she was back to where she’d started.
“What is it?” Brian nudged her arm. “That frown’s ruining your purdy face.”
Marité knew he’d tried to keep his voice down but was also certain folks in the last row heard him. “Shhh,” she whispered, and, suppressing a rising giggle, she bumped him with her shoulder.
Brian jerked up to his full height, snapping two fingers in mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Rebecca must have found their exchange entertaining, because she decided to join the fun. Her rosebud lips puckered, releasing a loud half-raspberry, half-spit bubble.
“Not very ladylike,” Marité murmured. Brian snickered, and the priest shot them both a warning glare.
Her sister, Raquel, heard the sound and flicked a signal to Matthew. As a lighted taper was presented to Marité and Brian, Matthew retrieved Rebecca in exchange, rescuing everyone from the priest’s displeasure. With little Rebecca’s explorations in sound effects successfully silenced, Father O’Leary nodded, and the baptism proceeded in its ordered sequence.
Boom! The sound of a kneeler dropped carelessly on the floor reverberated throughout the chapel like a discharged cannon. Marité tossed poise out the window and turned, peering above and beyond the curious guests to the source of the commotion.
You know how to make an entrance, don’t you?
With hands pressed against the last pew, Michael leaned forward. His shoulder-length hair, falling in the direction of his hands, concealed his features. On her next breath, Marité evaluated the situation in the room: a pale Aunt Coralina directed a wife-to-husband plea for serenity to Uncle Jonas, whose gaze emitted ice-blue fury toward his irreverent son.
An unexpected censuring scoff out of Brian startled her, and Marité pivoted, beginning to feel like a spinning top. The frown of disapproval was a rare departure from Brian’s affable countenance. Confounded by it all, Marité flipped back around just as Michael looked up, tossed back his leonine mane in obvious defiance, and smirked. Ignoring everyone present, he glared at her. A chill ran down Marité’s spine…
Destiny’s Choice, the long awaited sequel to Destiny’s Plan, is available for pre-order through the following vendors.
A native of Cuba, Victoria acquired a love for books from her mother, and the desire to see the world from her father. As a result she has been around the globe by her count, at least twice. From her journeys she has gathered a varied collection of stories and anecdotes, which now serve to inspire her muse. Central Florida is home, but if she could convince her husband, she would pack her computer and move to Scotland, a land she adores.
Stay in touch with Victoria via Facebook or drop me a line on my web page, Victoria Saccenti Writes or visit her Amazon Author page:
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RELEASE BLITZ – Stay the Night by Cora Cade
Genre: Contemporary Romance
She’s everything he wants. Even when she can’t see it. After her last relationship ended in the hospital, Lainey Eversman ditched Ohio to start fresh in a sleepy North Carolina town. Her tiny apartment above the Drunken Duck may be cramped, but she’s ready to let her big dreams erase those bad memories.When she sprains her ankle, she reluctantly accepts Chris Harper’s help to cut her last few ties to Ohio, though she dares not accept anything else from the sexy architect. The last thing she can trust is her instincts when it comes to men.
Chris knew the fiery Lainey was his one and only the moment he set eyes on her. If only she’d let him get closer than arm’s length. But their trip to Ohio cracks the walls shielding her vulnerability, and she finally, hesitantly, takes that last step into his arms.
It’s still going to be tough to convince her to give love a fighting chance—especially with an ex who won’t take “go away” for an answer.
Warning: Contains a small-town hero who’ll do anything to convince a skittish big-city girl that he’s a safe bet. Expect loyal friendships, sweet kisses, and hot, dirty sex in the great outdoors.
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Excerpt
Chapter One:
The idyllic countryside of Lainey Eversman’s new home left a lot to be desired when you were under attack by mutant country spiders. Four weeks ago she’d purchased ten lakeside acres in the lush mountains of North Carolina. Currently she was standing on a rickety kitchen chair swatting at a horde of massive spiders crawling through a crack in her cabin’s ceiling. All the while wishing desperately she’d never left the confines of city life.
She was trying admirably to not freak out like a total pansy, but when a shower of leggy spiders fell in her hair she gave up the fight. Giving a little squeak she launched herself from the old wooden chair and began to dance around like a lunatic while brushing her hands madly through her hair.
After a brief tussle with her own ego, she finally gave up and headed for a real shower. The kind with water and soap. No one had to know she’d nearly had a meltdown over a few spiders. Those ten acres, so happily purchased a few weeks ago, had come with a tiny hunting cabin. One room encompassing a very small and formerly very dirty shower, a toilet, a kitchen sink the size of her favorite pair of shoes, and a mini fridge fresh out of the box, all in a twelve-by-twelve room.
At the time it had seemed like the perfect place to hang tight while she had a place built. In retrospect she should have taken her brother and his girlfriend up on the offer to make use of their guest room until the build was completed. She loved both Cal and Molly, but she had little interest in finding them in compromising positions all over the apartment. Given the pair of them, it would be near impossible to catch them doing anything but getting frisky.
The creepy cabin in the middle of nowhere was her home for the duration. It wasn’t so bad, aside from the bugs, the smothering summer heat, and the incessant nature noise. No one ever told her living in the sticks was loud. Since her first week in the cabin she’d been serenaded nightly by an orchestra of bullfrogs, crickets, and assorted evening critters. Every morning the birds woke her at first light. Eventually she’d adjust to the nature sounds, but to date she’d been averaging about six hours a night; not really enough to feel rested. Altogether leaving her just a little bit cranky from lack of sleep.
In theory living alone surrounded by nature was an amazing retreat, but in reality it was quite the adjustment for a city girl leaping into the next stage of her life.
After scrubbing all the spider particles from every square inch of her body she exited the shower and tossed on a pair of simple cotton panties and the thinnest tank top she could find. It was a beautiful August evening, but the heat of the day hadn’t dissipated enough to leave Lainey comfortable. The heat and humidity left her feeling sticky the moment she toweled off from the shower.
Being a half-mile down a winding lane in the middle of nowhere had its perks. Sitting on her miniscule porch in her underwear with her feet propped up was definitely one of them.
Well, until she saw a car’s lights turn off the main road and make its way toward the cabin. It could only be a handful of people. Her brother Cal, Cal’s girlfriend Molly, or more likely Chris. Chris the hottie architect that she’d met through Cal and Molly, who was contracted to redesign the coffee shop she’d purchased.
Given the light glow of a near full moon, Lainey guessed it to be nearly ten. Rather late for a business meeting. Finally, she determined it was Chris, as his sleek black car eased slowly closer until it was nearly ready to park next to her own car on the far side of the porch. Lost in her own thoughts, she was about to greet the hottie architect in her panties.
Dammit.
Launching herself to her feet in an effort to reach the front door of the cabin before Chris cleared the porch was easier said than done. In her rush she almost crushed a cricket with a poorly placed foot. Attempting to save the cricket’s life, Lainey lurched to the left and managed to trip over her own feet. Landing in an inelegant pile, she watched the cricket hop away unharmed.
As she was attempting to right herself Chris stepped into view and halted his progress at the foot of the porch.
Nestled away in a small town in Ohio, I spend my days adding delicious books to my library, snuggling with my three rotten dogs, and debating the finer points of life with the dear husband. When I’m not tucked away with a book you can be find me tapping away at my laptop. With coffee. And my playlist.
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