New Release Spotlight: Clam Jam by R.C. Boldt

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Clam Jam

By: R.C. Boldt

Releasing January 10, 2017
Self-Published

Clam Jam

Definition: the female equivalent of a cock block.

Example: You’re chatting with a guy you’re interested in and your friend comes along and lays claim to him. 

Maggie
That’s my life—except it’s worse. My friend who keeps “jamming” me is my gay roommate and if that isn’t a W.T.F. moment, I’m not sure what is.

Fact: He went home with three—yes, three—of the guys I had been so sure were into me.
Fact: He’s really pissing me off. I mean, hello? I’m trying to get back in the saddle, but I’ll never manage to get a boyfriend before the age of fifty if he keeps this up.
Fact: Secretly, I wonder what it would be like if he weren’t gay. Why do all the hot, sweet, tender-hearted guys have to be gay?
Fact: My gay-dar needs a serious tune-up.

Ry
The day I interviewed for the room to rent, everything changed. I knew I had met “the girl”, except there was one small problem: she didn’t want anything to do with men. I recognized a top-notch force field when I saw one. She’d been burned badly and didn’t want to deal with a heterosexual guy as a roommate. I could’ve turned around and found another place to live, but I wanted to live there—with her.

So I had to go “undercover”. 

Fact: I’m in love with my roommate.
Fact: I’m a likely candidate for carpal tunnel surgery since all the action I’ve had for the past year has been my hand.
Fact: She’s going to hate me if I come clean now.
Fact: I’m not giving up. Which means, I’ll just have to continue to run defense until I figure out a way to get Maggie to see the “real” me. 

The me that loves her.

The me that would never do her wrong.

Until then, I’ll keep running off every guy who shows any interest. 

Until then, I’ll continue to Clam Jam. 

“But she doesn’t want anything to do with men, Ry. What are you going to do? Just casually bring it up one morning that you’re actually hetero?” He scoffs, shaking his head at me. “I see that going over real well.”

“I haven’t gotten that far but, this way, I can get to know her without all that shit getting in the way. The whole nervousness, the whole showing the other person your best at all times until you’re really committed and then it all comes out.”

“And you’re going to do this by being dishonest from the get-go.”

Running my hands down my face, I let out a frustrated groan. “What was my other option? To let her go, to never have an opportunity to get to know her—to never get to be her friend, at the very least—without her feeling like I have any ulterior motives—”

“Which you do.”

“—and be faced with the possibility of me being too late and another guy getting to her when she decides she’s ready to start dating again?”

“I’d like to go on record and say that you’ve been watching too many damn chick flicks.”

“Whatever.”

He’s silent for a moment, staring at me before his lips twitch, slowly forming a smirk. “So how long have we been together, love muffin?”

The breath I’ve been holding in comes out in a slow exhale. “For a while.” Holding up a finger, I add, “But we have an ‘open’ relationship.”

His eyebrows arch at that. “Why, you little player, you. Won’t commit to being monogamous, huh?” He tips his beer to his lips, takes a swig, and grins. “I bet I can convince you to be mine within a few months tops, pookie bear.”

I make a face, scoffing, “Not likely.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “You’ll be putting out before long. Mark my words.”

“You’re not right.” I laugh, shaking my head at him.

“You’re the one who’s pretending to be gay.”

“Point taken.”

We both take a swig of beer and fall silent for a moment before Jack finally speaks.

“Can’t say that I’ve ever pretended to be someone’s gay lover before.” His face stretches into a wide, toothy grin.

And, just like that, my best friend is officially involved in my game plan. All for the sake of a woman I’m convinced is “the one.”

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2gcvm3F

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Amazon CA: https://goo.gl/LW914r

Amazon AU: https://goo.gl/CLdV6N

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iBooks US: https://goo.gl/Zf3mVB

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Google Play: https://goo.gl/gdUjg7

RC Boldt is the wife of Mr. Boldt, a retired Navy Chief, mother of Little Miss Boldt, and former teacher of many students. She currently lives on the southeastern coast of North Carolina, enjoys long walks on the beach, running, reading, people watching, and singing karaoke. If you're in the mood for some killer homemade mojitos, can't recall the lyrics to a particular 80's song, or just need to hang around a nonconformist who will do almost anything for a laugh, she's your girl.

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New Release Spotlight: Falling for the Best Man by Amanda Ashby

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Falling for the Best Man
Sisters of the Wishing Bridge Farm #1

By: Amanda Ashby

Releasing: January 9, 2017
Entangled Bliss

He’s the best man and her secret fling—who said being a wedding planner was easy?

What's worse than running into your ex-hookup at the airport? When said 'hookup" is the best man for the most important wedding of your career, and he's on the hunt for a fake girlfriend. Between a hysterical bride and a wedding party gone wild, wedding planner Emmy Watson can’t afford any more disasters if she wants to save her beloved Wishing Bridge Farm. Which is why she puts the best man on lockdown. Unfortunately, he also happens to be the one guy who can make her forget everything except the way his kisses make her feel.

All Christopher Henderson needs is a fake girlfriend to convince his bosses that his bad boy reputation is a thing of the past so he can land his dream job. What better place to find said companion than at a wholesome vintage wedding. The only thing he didn't count on was seeing Emmy, the woman who dumped him. The one he hasn’t been able to get off his mind.

There's no denying the spark between them, but he’s a globetrotter and she’s a homebody, and falling in love is something neither of them has in their plans.

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“Emmy,” he countered, trying not to be distracted by the delectable sight of her chest rising and falling. “One dance. That’s all I’m asking. For old time’s sake.”

Emmy’s lips twitched, and Christopher could almost see the two sides of her battling before the carefree smile he recognized from their time together in New York appeared. It changed the shape of her face and brought everything about their first meeting slamming into his mind. She stood up, so close that his skin prickled with desire.

“Fine. One dance.”

“Great.” He led her to the small wooden dance floor to the left of where the jazz band was playing. Lewis and Miranda were in the middle, and fanned out all around them were the rest of the bridal party, but all Christopher could see was Emmy.

The music pulsated around them, and even the pale yellow moon above swayed to the beat. He sucked in a breath and pulled her toward him. It was a mistake, and his lungs were filled with the smell of her freshly washed hair and the evening clematis climbing up the crumbling brickwork of the courtyard walls. His arms tightened around her waist, and her bunched, tense muscles seemed to relax as she melted into him. The rest of the world disappeared, and all he was conscious of was her pounding heart as it pressed against his.

This was the woman he’d met two years ago.

And it seems I’m just as helpless around her as I ever was. Which is either a good thing, or a very, very bad one. The verdict’s still out.

As if reading his mind, she turned her face up to him, a soft, suggestive smile tugging at her full mouth. Desire flared through him, and if they were anywhere else he would’ve kissed her without a second’s hesitation. He forced himself to return her smile and simply enjoy the way her body molded his.

It wasn’t until the lead singer announced the name of the next song Christopher even realized the music had stopped. Emmy was the first to recover, and she stepped away, her face flushed and her eyes not quite meeting his.

“Um.” She licked her lips. “I’m not sure that was such a good idea.”

“I hate to disagree with you, but I think it was an excellent idea. And one that should definitely be repeated. You can’t deny that there’s still something between us.” Christopher tried to pull her closer as the next song started, but she folded her arms firmly in front of her. Ironically, it highlighted the soft curves of her body.

At this rate I’m going to need a fire engine to cool me down.

“I’m serious,” she insisted before letting out a soft sigh. “You’re right. There is still something between us, but there’s nowhere it can go. I want to save the farm, and you want to go visit every strange nook and cranny in the universe. Don’t you see? Nothing’s changed.”

“My hair’s longer,” Christopher said, but it was obvious by the way Emmy had pushed her lips into two compact lines, she wasn’t in the joking mood. “I know you like to be organized, and I get that, but aren’t you over thinking this? I mean, shouldn’t we be having the fun first and then move on to the serious conversations about why it would never work?”

“I’m sorry.” The muscles around her jaw tightened. “I think we should just be friends.”

“Friends that do friendly things together? Like dancing?” he asked in a hopeful voice.

“How about friends that help other friends ensure the groom’s brother doesn’t do anything he might regret?” she countered.

Christopher winced. Ouch. He’d been friend-zoned. Logically, she had a point. She hadn’t changed her mind, and he wouldn’t change his, which meant it was for the best.

If only someone could inform my body of the situation.

Amanda Ashby was born in Australia but now lives in New Zealand where she writes romance, young adult and middle grade books. She also works in a library, owns far too many vintage tablecloths and likes to delight her family by constantly rearranging the furniture.

She has a degree in English and Journalism from the University of Queensland and is married with two children. Her debut book was nominated for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice award, and her first young adult book was listed in the New York Public Library Stuff for the Teen Age. Because she’s mysterious she also writes middle grade books under the name, Catherine Holt and hopes that all this writing won’t interfere with her Netflix schedule.

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