#NewRelease Spotlight: DEPENDING ON THE DOCTOR, by Margaret Madigan @mmadiganauthor

THIS BOOK IS AMAZING! I loved Lydia so so much. I can’t wait for you guys to meet her. Let me welcome my amazing friend, Margaret Madigan to the blog! (Pssst it’s her birthday, so buy the book and you get the present!!)

DEPENDING ON THE DOCTOR: Nevada Bounty, Book 2


Lydia Templeton teaches other people’s children, but dreams of having a home and family of her own. Plain and mousy, she protects her heart and relies on herself, accepting that she may never find a place where she really belongs.

Emmett Wilder served as a Civil War battlefield surgeon. After the war he dosed himself with plenty of alcohol to forget the blood and violence. Unfortunately, drunk doctors make mistakes, and Emmett’s no exception, so now he travels the country selling homemade medicinal tonics and trying to outrun his demons. Keeping to himself he can’t hurt anyone else and he likes it that way.

But Emmett owes a favor to Lydia’s brother, Randall, who decides it’s time to collect. After their mother dies, Randall sends Emmett to Nevada to find Lydia and bring her home to Nebraska. Along the way Lydia and Emmett tangle with train robbers, natives, and an accidental marriage only to find that Randall is the worst enemy of all.

As Lydia journeys across the country with Emmett, she’s forced to face her worst fears and deepest desires, discovering along the way that her real strength comes from Depending on the Doctor.


Emmett’s worried blue gaze fixed on me.

“What time is it?” I asked. Dusk glowed outside the window. “How long did I sleep?”

He smiled, the humor of it reaching his eyes. “Most of the afternoon, I imagine. I’ve been talking with some folks in the other car and when they decided it was time for supper, I came back to find you sound asleep.”

“Train travel makes me sleepy,” I said.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it? You’re not expending any energy, just sitting, and yet the rhythm of the train lulls most folks to sleep eventually.”

“Are you hungry? We haven’t eaten all day, but I packed some food for us in my satchel.”

“That would be nice, thank you.”

I unpacked a loaf of bread, some cold chicken, and some apples we’d picked and stored from the ranch’s orchard, and we settled into our supper.

I watched him eat. Our interactions had been cautious, even awkward. I was bad enough at conversation when I knew someone, but with a stranger like Emmett, I was completely out of my element. So I just watched him. As a former doctor, his education had been apparent, but he carried himself with the confidence and ease of affluence—both financial and social. I wondered how he’d ended up as a traveling salesman.

My curiosity won out over my social awkwardness. “So Mr. Wilder, how did you end up doing what you do? Why would you give up being a doctor for life on the road? It can’t be easy.”

He’d been concentrating on his apple, studying it after each bite. It couldn’t be that interesting. When I spoke, it startled him, and he looked up at me with a pained and puzzled look in his eyes. Maybe it had been a bad idea to ask about his past. I had a difficult time with judging appropriateness.

“It’s a long story,” he said. “One that wouldn’t interest you.”

I figured in for a penny, in for a pound. I’d already started, I may as well forge ahead.  “We have a long trip ahead of us, so a long story will be perfect. And I’m interested in everything, Mr. Wilder. I’m curious by nature.”

He lifted a brow in what I could only interpret as an acerbic gesture. “I’m sure you are,” he mumbled, just loud enough for me to hear.

He shifted in his seat, facing me more directly. “Let’s just say this: my past isn’t something I like to discuss, and since our association is going to be short I prefer not to sully whatever meager impression I’ve managed to make on you thus far.”

“You’ve made a most honorable impression on me so far. I can’t imagine that you’ve anything in your past that’s so ghastly as to change that impression.”

“Don’t be so sure. You hardly know me.”

“Which is why I asked. So that I may get to know you.”

He stared at me hard, and I felt as if I’d won a point in an ongoing score. He bit his apple and took the time to chew and swallow. I watched him, and he watched me. I imagined him sizing me up, trying to decide how much to tell me, if anything at all. I’d have him at my side for a couple more days, and then he’d be gone, so why not bask in his attention while I could? I had no illusions that his attention was anything other than a man fulfilling his duty. But he seemed not to mind my company, so I allowed myself to indulge in enjoying him.

I was no more immune to an attractive man than any other woman, they just never paid me any mind. At the moment, I had one all to myself. Of course, Emmett was both handsome and intelligent. The perfect—and perfectly lethal—combination, at least where my fragile heart was concerned.

“All you really need to know is that I’ve made my share of mistakes, but I’m doing my best to put them behind me. What about you? What would make you leave a home where you have people who clearly love you, and go running to your brother solely because he asked?”

Well, he’d neatly side-stepped my questions and turned things back on me. Mentally, I awarded him a point in our little game. I glanced at him to find him leaned back, arms stretched out over the backs of the seats. He looked pleased with himself, fully aware that we were doing a verbal dance around each other.

“You’re not the only one with mistakes in your past.”

He chuckled. “That, I seriously doubt. Little Miss Proper?” He shook his head, rejecting my pronouncement.

“No. Not possible.”

His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, and my cheeks heated with a pleasurable blush. I couldn’t help myself. I appreciated his attention. I enjoyed talking to him and, to my surprise, he made me feel playful—something I’d never, ever felt with a man.

“Oh, don’t be so sure, Mr. Wilder. You hardly know me.” I echoed his response, teasing him—perhaps even flirting with him, though I’d never actually flirted so I had no way to gauge my success.

His smile froze, and he swallowed, but it looked more like trying to avoid choking. From the way he looked at me, I thought I’d done something wrong. His hungry expression made no sense to me.

I dropped my gaze to my hands in my lap. I’d allowed myself to get carried away in the moment and humiliated myself. “I’m sorry, that was impertinent of me.”

He made a sound halfway between a cough and a laugh. It wouldn’t do for him to choke on his apple, or his disgust.

“Impertinent?” He said. “That was downright sassy.”

From his expression, I had to assume he thought sassy was good, because he grinned at me like a fool.
I looked down at my lap again, then glanced at him again from under my lashes. “Is sassy good?”

“Yes, it’s good. It’s nice to see you relax some.”

I released the breath I’d been holding, and smiled at him. “I’m not generally sassy. You’re right when you call me proper. I am. I don’t know how to be anything else. Proper was always the best way to be invisible.”

His brows came together. “Why would you ever want to be invisible?”

His voice suggested incredulity, whereas I would have thought the answer was obvious: invisibility meant safety.

“That isn’t a fair question,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because it requires me to discuss my past, and I thought we’d come to a mutual—if unspoken—agreement that the past is off limits as a topic of conversation.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

I nearly snorted at the idea. “Trust me, Mr. Wilder, I’m the least intriguing person you’ll ever meet.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment, Lydia.” His voice had taken on a husky quality and I wondered if he’d injured his throat when he choked on the apple.

“Well, it’s the truth. I’m plain and boring, and I’ve lived a plain and boring life.”

“You’re not plain and boring, you just hide behind plain and boring. I saw you with those children. You came alive with them.”

“That’s easy. I adore them. Children are honest. I know what to expect from them.”

“Well, they clearly love you.”

I couldn’t help smiling in the face of his compliment. “It’s the adults I have trouble with. But I’m working on it. At least I’m trying.”

“You seem to be doing fine.”

“You make it easy,” I said, then snapped my mouth shut. Had I really just said that? I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. That was…”

“Impertinent?” he asked. His sparkling eyes teased me.

“Forward,” I said.

“I like forward,” he said, and I blushed so hard I had to look away.




Author bio:

Author of romance and science fiction, with Entangled Publishing, Evernight Publishing, and M&M Publishing.

Oregon Ducks fan.

Donut and pastry addict.

I like cats.

I’m terrified of balloons.

When I’m not writing you’ll find me in a college classroom teaching English, or working as a literary agent for an amazing agency…and of course, wrangling my family.


Author links:

Facebook author fan page
Amazon author page


#NewRelease Spotlight: BOMBERS MOON, by Raven McAllan

My special guest today is the lovely Raven McAllan talking about her latest, BOMBERS MOON!


I never thought, as a child and asking my mum, dad, gran (known as nan) and aunts to ‘tell me a story about the war’, that all these years later, I’d still remember those stories and use them as the basis for a book.

I’m so glad I did.

When I first had the idea for Bombers Moon, I just knew it would be set in Northamptonshire, where my mum as a teen was evacuated to, with her employment.

As much as the idea of a book set in London, in the blitz intrigued me, all mum ever said was ‘it was scary, noisy and as your granddad worked for the railways we got out own railway employees and families tube station to hide in’.

Then I remembered the tales of Northamptonshire. Of being locked out, getting stuck up a wall, although not knickerless—well I don’t think so wink. How they used charcoal or gravy browning to put ‘stocking seams’ up their legs, and bought wooden clogs and clacked around the draught old stone-floored manor house they lived and worked in. The older ladies who worked with them, got so sick of the racket, they clubbed together and bought my mum and her friend a pair of slippers each.

My aunt went out with a yank (as all American service men evidently were called) another relative fell off her bike and was rescued by a farmer and evidently mum did dance with the local lord of the manor.

Thus, Bombers Moon was born.

Who gets caught by the man of her dreams bare-assed and halfway up a wall? Lady Chrissie Stride, of course. 
It’s just her luck that she encounters Baronet Archie Duggan. On top of that, the house her London employers requisitioned to keep its staff safe from The Blitz is locked. Climbing the wall seemed like a good idea, until Archie turns up. At least he doesn’t seem to know it’s her. 
Archie recognizes Chrissie almost immediately. He never expected to meet her again in deepest Northamptonshire. This time around he is determined to claim the woman he loved and lost. With the war on, priorities change, and love is too important to conform to niceties. 
Will the star-crossed lovers finally find their happily ever after?

a wee tease…

Chrissie gulped. He was big—everywhere. She looked downward, her vision drawn to his long thick cock, which stood out proudly from its nest of hair. She averted her eyes from the crisscross of scars on his leg and arm. Those she understood, he neither wanted to think or talk about just then.

And that’s going to fit in my daffodil? The euphemism used by so many of her friends seemed silly now, but there was no way she could use the words she heard bandied about so freely in the pub or by the older women at work.

Honey pot! That’s it. Merle’s expression came to her. My honey pot! Or Pussy. Okay I can live with that, but…cu… She couldn’t even think the word.

She looked at his body with frank regard. Who knew if she’d ever get a chance to see him like this again? Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the scars on his leg and arm were still red, angry-looking and pronounced. She bit her lips to stop her moan escaping and held back tears. It was hard not to cry for all he and thousands of others had been through and were still going through. But yet again, her eyes were drawn in one direction. His massive erection stood out stiff and proud. Chrissie gulped, her earlier fears resurfacing. That would really fit inside her? Oh, my.

Archie correctly read her expression. “Not only fit, but a perfect fit,” he assured her. “With room to move. Come and lie down here.” He walked to the bed and rolled back the sheet and blankets before kneeling awkwardly in front of her. “Hold on a sec, something needs doing first.”

It was on the tip of Chrissie’s tongue to tell him she’d do it, whatever it was, when it hit her that he didn’t want help or sympathy. He wanted to woo her. Her insides turned to mush. How perfect.

Think we’ll have these off as well. Can’t ruin nylons, can we?” He rolled them down before putting one hand behind her, unhooking her brassiere, and putting the clothing on a chair. The pressure that moving the straps down had put on her chest immediately lifted, as Archie ran his thumbs over the swell of her breasts, and chuckled.

God almighty, Chrissie you are so bloody receptive for a virgin. It’s marvelous. I’m going to enjoy showing you what we can do together.” He pinched each nipple in turn and kissed the nape of her neck as he kneaded her breasts.

She could tell he’d had plenty of practice. Her pussy clenched at the unwelcome thought of him doing all these things with someone else.

Grow up. He’s almost thirty, and there’s a war on.

Now, let me see. What have we here?” Once again he kissed one nipple, then the other. “Time to itemize I think. Two breasts perfect to fit my hands. Two nipples to suckle.” He moved his hands to let his fingers play with her clitoris, teasing her hairs, and her navel. “One cunt all for me.”

Chrissie blushed. Why could he say that with such insouciance and she not even think it? It must be a man thing. However, emboldened, Chrissie licked her lips, heard him groan and then reached out to touch Archie’s manhood. His skin was warm and soft and he jolted and moaned as she feathered her fingers over him. One step further than she’d ever taken. Only once had she dared rub him through his trousers, and his groan had her moving her hand in a hurry.

She mimicked his movements, kissed his nipples, and then, heartened by his response, bent double to put the tip of his penis in her mouth and taste the juices there. They were salty and thick. Chrissie rolled them over her tongue as she remembered a leaflet one of the girls at school found in her brother’s room and brought to class to show them. Crudely written and badly produced, the drawings had them all giggling and blushing for weeks. She wondered just how many of her peers had tried what it suggested. Chrissie moved and circled Archie’s tip with her tongue again.

I could get used to this. The more I do this, the bigger he gets. A thought crossed her mind. Would he get too big for her? It wasn’t a question she felt she could ask.

Archie groaned, and she tried to pull back, scared she was doing something wrong. “Hell, Chrissie, that’s so damned good, I’ll come,” he said in a strangled tone. “For the Lord’s sake, get onto the bed and give me a chance to get inside you.” He moved over her, his tip barely touching her curls.

Archie, what if I don’t want to, you know…” She didn’t know how to put her fears into words, and flapped her and in the air like a demented owl flapping its wing. It was lucky he understood her incoherent beseeching.

No problem, darling. I’ll come like a gentleman.” He indicated the towel laid in readiness beside him. And moved again, nearer and nearer, and waited. “Yes?”

Chrissie held her breath. This was it. “Oh yes.”

His cock twitched, and without conscious thought, Chrissie opened her legs wide, ready to welcome him. This was it. Soon she, Chrissie Stride, would no longer be sweet and innocent but a woman of the world.

There was a loud hammering on the farmhouse door.

What the bloody hell?” Archie stopped mid movement. His position looked precarious as he kneeled half on and half off her.

A voice, gruff and urgent, was shouting.

Mr. Archie, Mr. Archie. Come quick. The rick’s on fire!”

Saved by the bell, she thought hysterically as she watched Archie scramble into his clothes, his cock being most reluctant to be treated in such a way. Not that she’d wanted saving. In fact, she felt uncomfortable. It wasn’t right. She’d at least climaxed. Goodness knows how Archie felt, still unreleased so to speak.






As my mum would have said I hope it tickles your fancy,

Happy reading,

Love R x


All Hallow’s Haunting: Get Ready for a Scary Story – LIVE!

Halloween is full of spooky treats and scary feats, right? Well, three crazy authors are about to do just that.

My friends Anne Conley, Melanie Macek and I are going to take a couple from each of our books and drop them into a haunted house. And we’re doing it all live!

Want to watch a novella written before your very own eyes? Don’t miss this Boo-ktacular Mashup Event happening on October 22nd, 2015 from 6pm-8pm CST!


Haven’t read Craze yet by Anne Conley? Here’s your chance to get a signed copy before the event so you can catch up on Krista and Ryan’s story and get to know them.  Enter the rafflecopter giveaway right now!
a Rafflecopter giveaway


Spook ya later!!