St. Paddy’s Day is coming up and we have three pots of gold we’re eager to share!

First, visit our giveaway and enter for your chance to win one of 7 prizes, a Kindle Paperwhite with matching leather case, Kindle Fire, or ebook prize packs where you choose the books on Amazon you want to win!

Then check back with us this St. Patrick’s weekend, March 15-18, for an epic Facebook Hop with 70 authors participating. You could be one of 70 lucky winners to take home a gift card.

And for that third pot of gold, readers will find more than 65 fabulous ebooks to click, buy, and read at our book fair. We have page-turning stories in a wide range of romance genres.

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Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona Daoibh!

Sure now and isn’t tomorrow St. Paddy’s Day?  What better time to talk about my romantic historical series The McCoys?

The McCoys of County Tipperary weren’t nobility, not Quinton McCoy’s branch, at least. His family was descended from the Scottish Clan Mackay who in turn traced their lineage from the royal House of Moray.

Descendants of Vikings interbreeding with Celts and producing people called Gall Gaeil or foreign Gaels, the McCoys were a feisty lot always spoiling for a fight, though often with a habit of choosing the wrong side to champion. During the first war of Scottish independence, one branch of the family lost their lands. Being warriors, they didn’t sit around and bewail the fact, however. Instead, they turned their love of battle into a vocation, becoming galloglasses (mercenaries), traveling across the sea to Ireland where they hired out to fight for the Uí Néills at the battle of Calmeirge, when that clan wiped out the McLoughlins to rule the western half of Ulster.

After that, most of the McCoys travelled south to lands they were granted in County Tipperary where they beat their claymores into plowshares and went from being warriors to landowners. Though no longer titled, they led the lives of near-nobility, settling down to raising families though a good many became notorious as lovers of both their own women as well as other men’s.

The Clan McCoy was well-liked, and as landed gentry, looked up to in that part of the country. Soon, however, most of the land was lost through various wastrel gambling habits, and quite a few got themselves killed for proving to be better lovers than fighters. A nobleman favored by the English became the landholder of most of what had been the McCoy estates, but the family was so established in the country, they were still looked to in settling disputes and caring for the tenant farmers.

That was how Callum McCoy became the steward for the then landlord, and after him, his son, Aloysius, and now his grandson Quinton is estate agent for the current lord.

The McCoys tells the story of Quinton and his four children and his grandsons.

Donal  – The Honest Rake leads the life of a young gentleman of leisure until his father decides it’s time he marry.  The last thing he wants is a wife, for it will interfere with his secret life, that of a rake who can have any woman he wants. Why should he settle for only one?





Colins – The Good McCoy Lad, always does what’s right…until he meets the Honorable Fiona. Suddenly Colin wants to do everything that’s wrong. Fiona is only too glad to help, but his newly-found rebellious nature may go too far. 







Padraig – The family Bad Boy. Padraig inherited all the McCoy bad traits, forcing his family to pay him to leave home and never return. The young scoundrel does the only thing he can…The Man from Tipperary heads West, to America and the land of gunslingers and pioneers.

Quill – Being The Cttle Baron’s Kid isn’t easy since everyone treats you like you’re still in knee-pants even when you’re man-grown.  Quill McCoy has to prove he’s an adult, even if it means revealing his secret to the woman he loves and losing her forever. (picture #4)






Liam – The Sunday Man seems to have inherited nothing from his father and everything from his black sheep uncle. Like Padraig, he never denies what he is, however. He’s rich, handsome, and women don’t care what he does for a living, until he returns to Ireland and meets the one woman he wants but can’t have.

John Fox and Quinn Nordin are The Lost Sons, a Lakota Soux running from his heritage, an English orphan trying to find his.  They meet, become friends, and are brought by life and circumstance into the McCoy family circle where events reveal some unbelievable secrets.

Bridget – When the only McCoy daughter marries, her new husband remains indifferent. She knows Eamonn loves her, so why won’t he admit it? Bridget has a few tricks up her innocent sleeves, however, and The Determined Bride will make Eamonn O’Neill beg for her love before she’s finished. (picture #7)

The series is published by Class Act Books.

Buy Links:

Paperbacks are available from the publisher’s website,

eBooks/Kindle available at

The Honest Rake –

The Good McCoy Lad –

The Man from Tipperary

The Cattle Baron’s Kid –

The Sunday Man –

The Lost Sons –

The Determined Bride

Have a great weekend!

Toni V. Sweeney

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It’s March and my thoughts turn to all things Irish and OH DANNY BOY

 Here’s the link for Oh Danny Boy

This pot of gold could hold more than they bargained for…

Grand. Just grand. Clara Donovan’s failure to keep her brother from going off the rails—again—is a public spectacle. Including a handsome stranger who puts down his guitar case to help her talk Seamus down from Farthing’s tallest bridge.

Everything about Danny Brady reminds Clara how many times she swore she’ll never again be that pathetic, weak woman who got taken in by a good-looking man. Especially when, the next day, she walks into a new coffee shop in her little Irish town and discovers Danny’s secret.

Danny didn’t lie—technically—about his coffee shop chain. He’s just tired of women going after him for his wealth. Clara is a graceful, fiercely loyal, non-Irish Irish damsel in distress, a combination that tugs at his heart. A heart that’s spent its share of time in pieces.

Danny has never hesitated to go after what he wants, but melting Clara’s defenses will take more than hot tea and charm. He’ll have to prove he’s made of stronger stuff—even when her past threatens to tear her carefully reconstructed world to shreds.

Happy Reading and Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

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It’s rodeo time in Houston, and traffic around the NRG Stadium crawls to a stop.  Since 2003, the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo (RodeoHouston) has been held at NRG.  HLSR is the largest livestock exhibitions and rodeo in the world and offers the richest purses.  The event is 20 days long. Kickoff is marked by the Downtown Rodeo Roundup held near Houston City Hall, the Downtown Rodeo parade, and the ConocoPhillips Rodeo Run – a 10k and 5k walk & run and the World’s Championship Bar-B-Que Contest (the Chili Cookoff, which is a major event in HLSR each year).  In 2017, attendance reached a record high of 2,611,176 people and 33,000 volunteers.

Of particular interest to me is the trail ride associated with the HLSR. In 1952, four men traveled on horseback from Brenham, Texas, to raise awareness of the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo™. Today, more than 3,000 trail riders partake in the Rodeo’s signature tradition each year.  One year, I saw them ride into Memorial Park and it was quite a spectacle, all those horses, trail-weary cowboys and cowgirls.  Yes, have to admit I always wanted to participate in that part of the rodeo.

I was there several years ago and saw the Zach Brown Band.  The rodeo has drawn some of the world’s biggest recording artists, including Dixie Chicks, Elvis Presley, George Strait, Garth Brooks, Willie Nelson, Bon Jovi and Lynyrd Skynyrd to mention a few.

I don’t usually go because of the huge crowds but one year I went with a friend and ended up buying this stunning necklace of a Spanish horse. The lady was getting ready to leave, and sold it to me at a lesser price. Otherwise, well…

Almost every book I’ve ever written includes the Andalusian or the Lusitano horse.  I think Gylded Wings may be the only one that doesn’t have a horse of any persuasion. This dark fantasy is narrated in first person from Lucifer’s POV, but there is nothing satanic or demonic about the book. In fact, the ending is rather uplifting:

Angels in slavery? Brit Montgomery cannot believe it, until she is sent on a rescue mission to another dimension and witnesses the cruel practice first hand. The angel, Gyldan, is the most beautiful being she’s ever seen. She is drawn to him but sometimes beauty disguises wicked secrets. This man who rocks her world seems more demon than angel.

Gyldan, born into slavery, has one desire—fly free. When he escapes to Earth, he faces an alternate self-realization full of dark glory…and disbelief. Gyldan is bent on experiencing his newfound powers unmindful of the harm to Brit or others.

Confused and hurt by Gyldan’s erratic evil actions, Brit turns away. While Gyldan’s journey of self-discovery pulls him further distant, Brit finds acceptance in a solitary, comfortable life of her own until she realizes the day of reckoning has come. Will Gyldan be her final ruin or has he come back to her with a gift more precious than life itself?

Drop by my website and check out my books. Each has a page describing the story and giving reviews, book videos, etc. as well as by-links.  There are also two free reads.


Let’s go to RodeoHouston! I want to be present and accounted for at the Chili Cookoff.




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Do You Encourage or Discourage? #PG #MFRWHooks

Mary with dogdHave you noticed that some people sabotage your efforts when you tell them what you are doing? If you announce that you have started walking in place in front of your TV during one commercial break or 5 minutes, whichever method you use to measure time, some folks will say good for you. Others will tell you that isn’t enough time and will minimize your accomplishment of dragging your lazy butt out of your chair and moving more than from the kitchen to the bathroom and back. Or, for that matter, you might be walking through pain when you’d prefer to sit.

Maybe you mention that you walk to the mailbox instead of stopping when you go out on errands and grabbing the mail before you pull into your driveway. Discouragers tell you that you need to walk in your neighborhood and how often and how far and how many hills and… By now of course some of us aren’t listening, while others are ready to go back to not walking to the mailbox.

A friend proudly mentioned on Facebook that she went to the gym with her hubby and that she made it inside and walked on the treadmill for maybe five minutes and then tried to use the exercise bike but stopped because she couldn’t adjust it for her height. Some Facebook friends told her she should have found an employee to show her how to adjust the bike. Some even warned her that the treadmill could be hard on her joints and made her accomplishment sound bad for her, while others didn’t get that her even going to the gym was an accomplishment! She had been spending most days in a recliner and falling asleep while trying to write. Some commented on the fact that she needed to do more to lose weight. She’s trying to become more mobile. It wasn’t about her weight at that time.

Why in God’s name do folks feel the need to tell others when their efforts aren’t good enough?

Years back I lost a little weight by cutting out bread and potatoes and noodles. When I shared my efforts with folks I got comments on how I couldn’t really lose weight unless I exercised a certain amount with specific frequency and made my efforts seem paltry. When I was married I would tell my Ex that I had walked on our treadmill for a certain amount of time. He would then suggest that I didn’t need to exercise my legs but needed to work on my belly. The fact that I was burning calories made no difference to him. He also critiqued my meals. He ate less than I did, but he would scarf down half a bag of Doritos or other chips or a bagel before he sat at the table. Do you think those comments helped me lose weight? Not after the time I lost down from a size 9 to a 7. He said I was looking good, but I could stand to lose back to the size 5 I was at 30.  He made a big deal every time he saw a slender woman with 2 or more kids. “If she can lose weight and look that good, why can’t you?” Sometimes he said the words and others he implied them. Of course that woman might have a trainer or a different metabolism or a husband who made her feel good about herself or a different reason to stay slim.

When talk show hosts show a photo of a celebrity who has given birth recently say “She looks amazing!” what does that tell other women? How does that  make you feel? The photo does look amazing and there might be little retouching or a lot!

I seem stuck on exercise and weight, so let’s talk writing or grades.

If a kid brings his grade from an F to a D some parents would praise the kid and tell him they know they have confidence in him and know he can keep improving. Others push and complain that isn’t good enough. Well, in some cases it’s the best the kid can do, while in others a C might be the next step, since the kid is really behind or the work is finally making sense. Improving an overall grade takes more than one assignment or test.

About writing. Some writers can crank out 20 pages a day with ease while others can do 2 pages on a good day, with a lot of effort. Comparing ourselves with others makes no sense.  Listening to discouragers will sabotage our efforts.  They remind us about  the heavy producers and tell us we should do more.

Do the people in your life encourage or discourage?


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Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire…

Well, how about chestnuts just roasting?

Here’s a quick and easy recipe for roasting chestnuts in the oven:

1. Preheat oven to 425 F.
2. On the flat side of the chestnut, cut a large X with a sharp paring knife to the skin.
3. Place your pared chestnuts on a shallow baking pan. Roast in oven for 30 minutes and shake pan to rotate chestnuts for even roasting.

Peel chestnuts as soon as they are cool enough to handle, because once they cool completely, they will be difficult to peel.


And, did you know that in Europe, Asia, and Africa, chestnuts are often used as a substitute for potatoes?

In Candleglow and Mistletoe, my sweet romance novella set in the mountains of North Carolina, the hero and heroine stop for roasted chestnuts at a street side vendor.

Here’s the blurb:
Noelle Wentworth doesn’t mind getting away from St. Augustine to fill in at her ailing aunt’s candle shop. A few weeks in Snowing Rock will help her get past the humiliating memory lapse that ruined an important piano concert—and, ultimately, her marriage to her overbearing duet partner.

She’s mentally rehearsing for her comeback performance when the bus she’s riding in slides off an icy mountain road.
And one deep, calming voice emerges from the confusion to slow her racing heart—right before his ruggedly handsome face kicks it back into allegro.

Gabe Waters is usually prepared for anything—as a professional stuntman, his life depends on it—but nothing prepared him for Noelle, the unattainable high school crush whose bravery saved him from more than just a bully’s flying fist. There’s no hint she recognizes him, but Gabe knows that face, those eyes…and he sees something that wasn’t there before. Distrust and apprehension.

Their unexpected attraction kindles something as warm and sweet as a holiday candle. But the weight of their pasts could turn the promise of love to ashes.

Candleglow and Mistletoe is also available in paperback and audiobook.

Check out the video here.

Josie Riviera is a USA TODAY Bestselling Author of contemporary, inspirational, and historical sweet romances that read like Hallmark movies. She lives in the Charlotte, NC, area with her wonderfully supportive husband. They share their home with an adorable Shih Tzu who constantly needs grooming and live in an old house forever needing renovations.

Follow her on twitter: @josieriviera

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Nothing to Report

I’m in the throes of moving and have nothing to report.  Here’s my new home in SC (if the seller and I can work out some repairs that showed up on the inspection report.  I hope we can come to an agreement.  I really like the house.  Look at the kitchen!

The house is in Anderson, South Carolina, my hometown.

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Of Mountains and Mysteries

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February is on its way out and Spring is trying to arrive before March does.  This is my tree. I will post more of my neighbors’ flowers and trees. Mine bloom late!

That means it’s time for ten stories set in the North Georgia mountains by ten authors.


Coming Home    by  Gina Dyer


He ran, struggling for each breath. If he stopped he would die. His pursuers would not stop until they killed him. His heart pounded in his chest as he struggled over rocks and fallen trees. They were closer now. He heard the baying of the hounds. If he could find the stream or waterfall, perhaps the water would help mask his scent, his trail.

Finally, the stream. He heard the falls to his left and moved downstream. The hound’s cries sounded closer and more excited. He moved into deeper water, hoping to evade the violent death closing in on him. He submerged himself, moving with the current. The roar of the falls increased. Exhaustion and cold drained him. He was tired, so tired that he fell over the edge of Crying Woman falls. He hit the pool, pushed under by the force of the water.

Struggling, he forced his way to the surface and drew in several deep breaths. He pulled himself onto the rocks behind the falls. Shivering, he tried to remain still and quiet. He couldn’t run anymore and could only pray he had escaped death. He rested his head on his arms, listening for sounds of pursuit. His breath caught in his throat. He swore he could hear a woman crying, sobbing as if her heart had broken. He turned his head slowly toward the sound.

A splash outside the falls, then another made him freeze. He bowed his head, there was nowhere to run. The dog’s growls were so close he could almost feel its hot breath. If only… He thought of his wife and son, then pushed to his feet. If his enemies wanted a fight, he’d give them one.


Spring in North Georgia could be a bitch, a beautiful moody bitch. One week there could be a tornado, the next an ice storm that knocked out all the power for miles. Today, however, was perfect. Declan James smiled and tilted his head back, allowing a shaft of afternoon sunlight to warm his face. Of all the exotic places he’d visited, this land had its own magic. It was a beautiful day to hike back to the cabin built by his great-grandfather. Wonder what remains of the homestead? He smiled as he remembered hiking and camping trips with his father and grandfather, his grandmother’s garden and her blackberry cobbler, and evenings spent telling stories by the fire. His childhood had been a boy’s dream. His smile faded, a dream until his father had disappeared. What happened? He would never leave us…

Declan shook his head, clearing out the negative thoughts. This was not the time to wallow in past sorrows. The answer waited out there. For today it was enough he walked on family land, land that had belonged to his family since the early 1800s. He needed to make some changes in his life. It only made sense to return to his ancestral home. Despite all the sorrows of the past, life had been good to him, allowing the trials he’d faced to make him a better, stronger man.

“It is a perfect day.” Speaking the words aloud, breaking the silence, made his words almost a prayer.

He was getting close to the homestead, just another half mile up the trail. Adjusting his pack, he continued along the trail. At the top he stood still, taking in the view of the mountains with their trees just turning a pale green. At the edge of his vision something moved. Smoke. Damn, the old cabin was on fire



After a lifetime of running from trouble, she thought she’d escaped it. It had actually kept pace with her.

Nancy’s trouble began the day the old man arrived with his contraption, an ugly, spikey thing that churned and chewed into the earth, upending the red Georgia clay along the back fence that she’d chosen for her organic garden. He’d left after cramming her dollar bills into his overalls with a dirty fist and a word of advice about hilling the squash and leaving plenty of space in between.

She pulled out the card he’d given her earlier, as grimy as the hand that extended it. On the back he had scribbled the name of the man he thought knew the most about planting gardens in Falls County, a Stephen Woodland, owner of the Woodland Hills Resort and a man who liked to oversee the gardens there.

Nancy made a mental note to check with Woodland, but for now she couldn’t wait to get started. She attacked the hard clods with the rotary hoe, or whatever the old gent called it. Even as it burrowed deep into the ground, she found it rough work. She would need a man’s help, and it certainly wouldn’t be her new husband since he traveled all of the time. Nancy would have to reach out to people in Nantahala,

There are witches in and around Nantahala, Georgia. Grab this anthology and plan to sit and read! enjoy the mysteries that lurk in this small mountain town.

If you want your name in my next story, comment and go like MaryMarvellaAuthor
and let me know in the comments. Author/121044561311561 Follow Mary Marvella on Twitter @mmarvellab

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I Love You More

As we approach Valentine’s Day, many of us think of hearts and flowers and candy.

In my sweet romance novella, I Love You More, I tackle the subject of international adoption, a subject very close to my heart. Many of you know my husband and I adopted our beautiful daughter from S. Korea.

Here’s the blurb:
A billionaire and a single mother have more in common than they know.

He’s a billionaire businessman …

Luciano Donati, entrepreneur and eligible bachelor, lost his first wife to cancer. So though he lives in romantic Charleston, SC, he has every intention of ignoring the upcoming holiday for lovers … at least until he sets eyes again on his younger sister’s best friend.

He remembers Anastasia as a teenager who idolized him, not this lovely, fragile woman with heartbreak in her eyes. Heartbreak that he finds himself wanting to cure. Her smile warms his soul, her touch ignites his desire, and her little girl Soo-Min melts his frozen heart. Adopted internationally himself at a young age, Luciano understands all too well the strong need to belong somewhere.

She’s a single mom …

Anastasia Markow, cancer survivor and divorced mother, didn’t come to Charleston, SC, for romance. She’s here to make sure she has custody of her adopted daughter, Soo-Min. But when she encounters the first man she ever loved, here in the city of horse-drawn carriages and candlelight, her battered heart can’t help but bloom again. And when Luciano and Soo-Min take to each other, resisting his charm becomes even harder.

Handsome, self-assured, every inch the successful billionaire, Luciano is out of Anastasia’s reach. But when a hurricane strands them together and they must trust each other to survive … things heat up despite the driving rain and gale winds.

Can Valentine’s Day bring this unlikely pair together … this time for good?

Author’s Note: Thousands of families around the world have opened their homes and hearts through international adoption. Soo-Min is the embodiment of many, many fortunate adoptive children and parents who’ve together created forever families.

I Love You More is available in ebook, paperback, audiobook.

Enjoy the video on youtube!

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A Horse, a Horse–My Kingdom for a Horse…

Or at least 225 horses in an in-line 6-cylinder engine.

When I was growing up in the wilds of South Carolina, my mother was what I am today – a car nut.  In retrospect, I suppose I learned that passion at her knee. She traded cars every year, with some excuse or another, but I think she just liked having a different car when her passion faded.  Her favorite was Mercury made by the Ford Motor Company and now a defunct division.

Once, she had a 1964 burgundy Chevrolet Impala Super Sport with really fancy wheel covers.  The style at the time was to remove the wheel covers.  That was cool. So, cool that we were two girlfriends and I borrowed Mom’s SS and headed to Myrtle Beach to cruise the strip.  We didn’t meet any boys at ‘where the boys are’ but we had a wonderful time.

My particular affliction is the sports car, which love was fostered when my Dad helped me buy a Jaguar E-Type at the ripe old age of 18.



That love affair has persisted to today.  I had 4 Miatas, then fell in love with the BMW Z3 (probably my favorite of all time).  Z3PO was my best buddy.  I then bought a 135i that I didn’t really love.  A new Miata came next, but my libido began to stir, and I started doing on-line searches for a Z4.  Wings here was the result.

All is well in Happy Zippy Car Land but uh-oh, today I started to search Z3s for sale on-line.  Are Wings’ days numbered?

May the Force be with you this Friday, February 23, 2018!


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