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Thank you for hosting me on your blog, Susan, especially since Cold Feet Fever is neither a Western nor Erotica. It is, however, a romance, specifically a romantic crime mystery with tons of humor and a couple of steamy love scenes. I appreciate the opportunity to spread my announcement: Book 2 of The Fever Series, Cold Feet Fever, is now available for pre-order on Amazon at a discounted rate of $2.99.

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COLD FEET FEVER

A Romantic Crime Mystery with Tons of Humor

Secrets and Crime Have Never Been So Much Fun—or So Romantic!

A bad boy gambler with a lazy streak and commitment issues:

Owning Kinki, Atlantic City’s first paranormal nightclub, isn’t as easy—or as much fun—as Sam Jackson anticipated. Someone’s trying to shut him down before he opens, he’s on the verge of bankruptcy, and his matchmaking granddaddy has hired a sexy event planner with a mysterious background, bossy disposition, and criminal ties.

A mortician-turned-event-planner with big secrets:

A job as event planner offers single mom, Katie Deluca, her last chance to escape her past. Turns out party planning is more difficult than organizing funerals. Plus, the nightclub owner, although perfect for awakening her sensuality, couldn’t be more wrong for the stability she craves.

Forced to collaborate, they overcome obstacles and fight crime:

Katie is the one person who can salvage Kinki—and heal Sam’s emotional wounds. Together, they tangle with a goofy dog, exploding trucks, an unfortunate synchronized swimming episode, homicidal thugs, a corrupt building inspector, disappearing corpses, a kidnapping, and the threat of live cremation, all to deliver a kick-ass grand opening.

Excerpt

“Look at me, Katie.” Sam tipped her chin using one finger. “Please?”

She did. And melted.

“We don’t need wine,” he said. “I want you to remember everything.”

At his kindness and understanding, her breath caught in her throat. “Oh …” Since the ability to speak had deserted her, she draped his shirt over a chair to dry.

“There’s no need to be nervous.” Using one of his magic fingers, he traced the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “I’ll take good care of you.”

“I’m not nervous. Nope. Not at all.” Funny how her bones had melted. She backed away. He followed until she found herself sandwiched between the counter and the delicious golden body she itched to stroke. And lick. And nibble—a tiny bit.

Okay, so she was experiencing physical arousal. Emotions played no part in her turmoil. Nope. She was nicely detached.

His blinding smile left her so dizzy she barely noticed when he snagged a lock of her hair and wound it around his finger.

“Let’s get rid of your dress.”

Her heart bounced around in her chest. “Um … sure. Why not?”

While he watched, his eyes heavy-lidded and sexy, she stretched behind her back and hunted for the zipper. Duh. She’d forgotten a narrow fabric fold, held in place by a zillion microscopic hooks, concealed the sucker.

“Let me help.”

“I’m fine.” She contorted her body while groping around, hoping the sweat beading her upper lip wasn’t visible. “These tiny fasteners are tricky.”

“I have excellent fine motor skills. Turn around and relax.”

“I am relaxed, dammit.”

Heat broiled her face as she presented her stiffened back to him. While his fingers dealt with the hooks, she worked on achieving a higher level of detachment, not to mention sophistication.

She was almost there when he said, “I love that you’re nervous.” His voice had roughened to a husky growl. “It makes what we’re about to do extra special.”

She twisted her neck to assess whether or not he was mocking her, and found herself staring at his mouth. Her breath hitched in her chest. “I might disappoint you.”

His fingers stilled. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“I … um … may not have the skill you expect in a date.”

After a long pause, he said, “Excuse me?” The two soft words reverberated in the quiet kitchen.

She chewed her lip, then said, “I’ve only done it twice, well two and a half times to be precise, and it didn’t work out so well.” She clamped her mouth shut. Luckily she’d caught herself before divulging her partner’s jackrabbit ejaculation.

Sam remained utterly still.

Afraid to turn around, she nodded. “Uh-huh. I was too young to realize it wasn’t normal. I thought it was my fault. There’s no need to worry, though. I’m sure I can satisfy your needs. I’m a self-trained expert on sexual gratification.”

Warm breath stirred her hair. “Self-trained?”

Had she said something wrong? “Yes. I’m a voracious reader. I’ve read tons of how-to books on sexual intercourse, everything from The Joy of Sex, to Kama Sutra.” She hoped her sincerity would reassure him.

“Katie—”

“I also studied the Fifty Shades Trilogy and other erotic novels. I have a subscription to Cosmo, too. There’s a huge amount of educational help available, so I’m certain I’m competent.” Was it her imagination, or did his fingers fumble?

“That’s, commendable and, uh, extremely proactive of you,” he said in a choked voice. “But right now, I’m as far from worried as a man can get.”

 Inspiration for Cold Feet Fever

 I first met bad boy Sam Jackson as the younger brother of my hero in Fur Ball Fever. Sam is smokin’ hot, charming, and a serial womanizer. He’s also a deadbeat, gambler, and the bane of his brother’s existence. I enjoyed writing about Sam so much, I decided he deserved his own story. At the end of Fur Ball Fever, he buys a nightclub with his gambling winnings, triggering the premise for my next book, Cold Feet Fever.

What could be more fun than tormenting a player like Sam by including a woman who would drive him crazy while breaking down all his barriers? So I threw in a bossy event planner his eccentric Granddaddy Hiram (who also happens to be his business partner) hired to keep him in line. Since I delight in torturing my protagonists, I then proceeded to make Sam’s life a living nightmare by adding as many roadblocks to a happily-ever-after as I could think of.

 

About Maureen Fisher:

Maureen-2016-Headshot

Transplanted from Scotland to Canada at the tender age of seven, I now live with my second husband in Ottawa, Ontario. After spending eons in the I.T. consulting world, I grew weary of  wearing snappy power suits, squeezing into panty hose, and fighting rush hour traffic. I made a life-changing decision—I would write books. Not dry, boring, technical treatises, but fresh, funny romantic suspense novels.

How do I spend my time? Besides writing, I’m a voracious reader and volunteer for an addiction family counseling program. In addition, I’m a bridge player, yoga practitioner, seeker of personal and spiritual growth, pickle ball enthusiast, and an infrequent but avid gourmet cook. My husband and I love to hike, bicycle, and travel. I’ve swum with sharks in the Galapagos, walked with Bushmen in the Serengeti, sampled lamb criadillas (don’t ask!!!) in Iguazu Falls, snorkeled on the Great Barrier Reef, ridden an elephant in Thailand, watched the sun rise over Machu Picchu, and bounced from Johannesburg to Cape Town in a bus called ‘Marula’.

 Where to Buy Cold Feet Fever:

I hope you check out Cold Feet Fever. Better still, I hope you pre-order your copy while the price is discounted.

 

Amazon

United States

 Canada

    Great Britain

  Universal Link (all countries)

 Smashwords

 

A paperback edition will also be available in May, 2016.

 Maureen Fisher’s Contact Information:

 Maureen’s Website  Facebook Author Page  Twitter  Goodreads

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