Ah "release week"....for an author it is a sweet collection of moments that ends a long slog of frustration, aggravation, insinuation and other "-ations" that won't spring to my sleep deprived and over caffeinated brain at this precise second.
For PARADISE HOPS, my latest book, the day/week really should represent a victory. This is and was a book that I concocted to push myself a little. Like many of the books I have had published in the last 3 years sum total of my life as published author, I take on every new plot thread Hans the 6'5" hunk blond muse in lederhosen holding beer flings at me with a twist. I want to try something new each time, something I like to read but haven't had the courage to represent with my own words.
This book WAS going to be a typical menage. Damaged girl meets boy. Boy woos girl. Recovering girl can't resist a new boy. New boy makes a "simple" suggestion. Three people fall into bed in a tangle of arms, legs and male suppressed ego. I've done this before, twice now (Vegas Miracle and Lust on Tap). But as I wrote my into my heroine's head and met the two boys, a different sort of book began to emerge.
One that has garnered comments from ARC reviewers like:
"Powerfully emotional. I won't forget this book for a long time."
"Not your average romance by a long shot."
"This story was heartbreaking and beautiful. Ms. Crowe wrote each line with so much feeling and emotion..I could feel her inner turmoil"
"Author Liz Crowe created sympathy for all three characters when it would be so easy to cast one or more of them as villains."
I feel good about this book--which was a pre-order best seller on AllRomanceEbooks for nearly a month and has garnered me my first official hate group. But enough of that!
Onward with the usual:
Blurb:
Excerpts:
For PARADISE HOPS, my latest book, the day/week really should represent a victory. This is and was a book that I concocted to push myself a little. Like many of the books I have had published in the last 3 years sum total of my life as published author, I take on every new plot thread Hans the 6'5" hunk blond muse in lederhosen holding beer flings at me with a twist. I want to try something new each time, something I like to read but haven't had the courage to represent with my own words.
This book WAS going to be a typical menage. Damaged girl meets boy. Boy woos girl. Recovering girl can't resist a new boy. New boy makes a "simple" suggestion. Three people fall into bed in a tangle of arms, legs and male suppressed ego. I've done this before, twice now (Vegas Miracle and Lust on Tap). But as I wrote my into my heroine's head and met the two boys, a different sort of book began to emerge.
One that has garnered comments from ARC reviewers like:
"Powerfully emotional. I won't forget this book for a long time."
"Not your average romance by a long shot."
"This story was heartbreaking and beautiful. Ms. Crowe wrote each line with so much feeling and emotion..I could feel her inner turmoil"
"Author Liz Crowe created sympathy for all three characters when it would be so easy to cast one or more of them as villains."
I feel good about this book--which was a pre-order best seller on AllRomanceEbooks for nearly a month and has garnered me my first official hate group. But enough of that!
Onward with the usual:
Blurb:
A
brutal
attack left
Lori Brockton convinced she
was damaged goods. By the time she emerges from hiding two years later, ready to run her family's
famous brewery, she's determined to be independent--never rely on anyone ever
again.
Nearly a
year
of working in every corner
of Brockton Brewing Company, from warehouse to pub, front office to kitchen, teaches her all she needs
to know about the business. Then, she comes face-to-face with
masculine perfection in a suit and her world is rocked in more ways than one.
Garrett Hunter is the new Brockton business manager who takes one look at
the beautiful, sad young woman and his entire existence coalesces around
winning her heart.
But
standing between Garrett and what
he believes is his true love, is a six-feet six-inch blond-haired bad boy brewer.
Eli Buchannan is a craft beer rock star, recently hired by Brockton to drag the
company into the 21st century. He brings innovation and attitude plus a
prima donna ladies man reputation. But he's sworn off anything
resembling commitment, personal or professional, after getting burned at his last job on both
fronts.
Garrett Hunter is “The Perfect Man” -- handsome, successful,
stable, eager to settle down. Eli Buchannan... is not. Compelling, smoking hot, creative
and elusive, he represents everything Lori Brockton should avoid. But
just as she makes a difficult choice, a drastic life-changing shift occurs, and
nothing is ever the same again.
Excerpt #1 rated G:
Lori Brockton walked past her father’s secretary’s
empty desk intent on the report she had from the restaurant manager. “Dad, I’m
worried about Frank’s side of this." Tucking a lock of unruly hair behind her ear and pushing her
glasses up her nose, she opened the large door, already talking to him. "Honestly, I don’t think he considered…Oh…,” she stopped dead in her tracks. The heavy
horn rims slid down her face.
Her father smiled. “Lori, allow me to
introduce Garrett Hunter. He’s the business manager I told you about.” Ron
Brockton rose from his massive desk and joined her, putting a protective arm
around her waist. The man-vision that had her choking on her own spit rose from
his chair and stuck out a hand. She looked at it, then started when her dad
jabbed her in the ribs.
“Uh, hi.” She wiped a palm on her itchy
wool skirt. The vision’s eyes never once faltered from hers. If anything they
started to twinkle. Jesus. Eyes actually
did that? She surpressed a groan and let him take her hand. The warmth from
their touch spread instantly to her scalp then down her spine.
“Pleased to meet you. Your father has
been telling me about your experiment here.” Lori stared at their still-joined
hands, wondering how long they could stay connected and still be polite. She
never wanted him to let go, and she hadn’t felt that way about a member of the opposite sex in a
damn long time. His voice was low, gravelly, with a slight southern lilt. “I
love the fact that you’re immersing yourself in every aspect of the business,
from back of the house food prep to accounting. That’s a great way to learn it
all.” He gave her palm one last squeeze, then dropped it, leaving her bereft.
She gulped. “Oh, um, yeah.” Wow. Way to impress Mr. Perfect, Lori.
Nicely done. The incredible male specimen smiled at her and Lori’s heart
stuttered, really and truly, just like in the romance novels she’d once loved but had abandoned.
“So Garrett, why don’t I let Lori show
you around?”
She gaped at her father’s words. She
already sensed sweat gathering under her pits. She must reek of desperate, used
female. “No, Dad, I…”
“That would be great Ron, thanks.” Lori
swallowed hard and stared at Garrett Hunter long and hard. He commanded the
room as if he were six foot ten instead of his perfectly average six foot two.
Thick chestnut brown hair was cut close, clean, like the smooth line of his
square jaw. The words “noble Roman profile” sprung to mind as she pondered his
nose and chin and those incredible deep emerald eyes. The expensive-looking
gray suit fit him perfectly.
Her father cleared his throat. She
jumped, dropped the spread sheet she’d been clutching, bent down to grab it as
her elbow hit a coffee cup on the nearby table. Warm, black liquid dripped onto
the hardwood floor. “Christ,” she muttered. “Sorry, I’m a klutz.” She glared at
both men.
Her father frowned then his face
softened. “It’s okay honey. I’ll get this. You show Garrett around.”
“But…” She gave protest one last shot.
Garrett kept quiet. Awkward. “Fine.
But I only have about twenty minutes.”
“Take your time Lori,” her father waved
a hand. “I’ll tell Frank he can wait.”
Excerpt #2 PG 13 for
language:
Lori wrestled open the back brewery
door, ears already ringing from the curses that echoed through the large,
brightly lit room. The brewery boys, and three second brewers stood in a line,
like they were in a marine barracks all looking as nervous as mice observed by
a very hungry cat.
“And who the fuck,” boomed a voice,
“might you be? No one told me there was a girl brewer in this place.”
As a reflex, Lori looked around,
seeking out the girl who’d pissed off the faceless angry voice that must belong
to Eli Buchanan their new master brewer. She’d been instrumental in convincing
her father to hire the guy. He was a brewing celebrity, a genius, temperamental
and prone to quit perfectly good breweries if the mood suited him. He was exactly what
Brockton needed. They had to to get past their staid, complacent attitude in a
rapidly changing craft beer environment.
“Yeah, I’m talking to you. The one who
showed up fifteen minutes late for my morning staff meeting.” She flushed,
frowning at the line of men, many of whom had worked for her father for years
as they shuffled their feet and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Who the hell are you, and why are you on
my brewery floor?”
She cleared her throat, squared her
shoulders and channeled the anger building in her chest. “I’m Lori. Lori
Brockton. This is the first day of my brewery rotation.” She hated how thin her
voice sounded.
“Your brewery rotation eh?” She stepped
back at the vision that emerged from between towering stainless steel
fermentation vessels. “What is this?
Brewing Day Camp? I’m supposed to babysit the Brockton kids?” He glared at her,
making her blink in the glare of his bright, steely blue gaze. Eli Buchanan was
larger than life. At least six foot five, with long blonde hair held back by a
small piece of leather. Clad in light blue jeans and a Brockton Brewing grey t-shirt, the span of
his shoulders and definition of his torso forced an exhale from Lori’s lips. He
kept quiet as her eyes took him in, from rubber boot clad feet to the light red
hair covering his jaw. “Well? See anything you like?”
“Uh, no, I mean, it’s not camp. I mean,
you are…I’m…” she stuttered, then stopped. The man stood stock still, glaring
as if challenging her. She stood up straighter. “I’m here for the next six
months to
learn this part of the business. You know, so I can be your boss someday.” The
man frowned at her. She frowned back.
Then he tilted his head back and
laughed, stepped into her personal space and smacked her ass so hard she
yelped. “I look forward to that day girl Brockton. Yes, I do.” A couple of the
men started forward as if to protect her but she waved them back. This asshole
had another thing coming if he thought she’d be intimidated by him. As much as
she might have been at one point, something about him was as non-threatening as
Garrett,
but in a different way—a much more spine-tingling way.
The following ten hours of back
breaking work nearly made her throw in the towel. But after an hour scraping
out the last of a twenty barrel’s worth of wet, heavy spent mash—the leftover
grains from a batch of beer made on their smaller system, she felt sore as
hell, but invigorated. The smells, sounds and sights of this place, the
heartbeat of the entire operation, the reason all three hundred of her father’s
employees came to work every day, this she loved.
“Brockton!” An angry voice behind her
made her jump and turn. Wet, sticky malt grains dripped from her face where
she’d accidently splashed some onto herself as she cleaned out the large
vessel. She swiped at them, smearing even more of the mess across her cheeks.
Without warning, Eli wiped her face with a clean white towel, his touch
surprisingly tender, lingering longer than necessary. But his frown stayed
stuck in place. She stepped away from
him even though her body
reacted, compelling her to move closer.
“Some guy in a tie is looking for you,”
he jerked a thumb over his shoulder but didn’t move. Lori had no experience
with hypnosis, but she’d swear at that moment he’d done it to her. They locked
eyes, then the sound of harder heeled shoes on the concrete floor forced her
look past him. Garrett’s bright smile was familiar, yet strange in the highly
charged environment.
“I’m actually here to see you, Eli.”
Garrett stuck out a hand and the other man looked at it, glancing over to Lori
then back over before gripping it without a smile. “Glad to have you on board.”
Eli took his hand back, and swiped at
it with the towel he’d used on her face. If he noticed the rude gesture, Garrett
didn’t indicate it in the slightest. Impressed, Lori moved a step closer to him
and glared at the tall, blonde man.
Eli shot her an unfathomable look, but spoke to
Garrett. “Sorry, but no suits in the brewery. Wouldn’t want to get you messy.”
He walked away, waving over his shoulder. “Glad to be on board, boss, thanks.”
The sarcasm dripped from his words like venom. Garrett turned to her, his
handsome face calm, as if the odd exchange with the rude employee had never
happened.
Excerpt #3 rated R:
Lori smiled as the classical music
rolled around in the brewery space, watched the brewery staff scurry around,
efficient, happy, in spite of the scowling presence of the brew master. They’d
all learned so much from him. He’d instilled a sense of pride, a ton of new
processes and systems and generally made the whole place run better. She looked
over at him and blushed when she realized he’d been starting straight at her,
his eyes dark and brooding.
She ignored him for another hour,
busying herself with cleaning, then running the filter for a new batch of dark
lager. When a hand touched her arm she jumped, and the safety glasses slid down
her nose. “What?” Eli gestured for her to follow him out of the cooler. She did
so, all the way into the office at the back, her scalp tingling at the memory
of their one encounter there. His broad shoulders were tense and his face
radiated anger when he turned to her.
“What is it?” She slid her arms out of
the coverall she’d been wearing now that she was back in a room with normal
temperatures. The usual buzz and hum of her libido did its song and dance on
her nerve endings. She kept plenty of space between them, determined not to let
him touch her again. Things with Garrett had been great. She had no reason
whatsoever to want anything else.
When he gripped her upper arm she gasped and stared
at his hand, then up at him. “Why are you selling?” He bit each word off at the
end, precise and clear, but she still couldn’t
understand what he meant. His proximity, his touch, and the words he said
simply wouldn’t square in her brain. She pulled out of his grasp.
“Selling what? What are you talking
about?” She stepped away, ears still buzzing with barely concealed desire. She
crossed arms over her chest, trying to control her breathing, her hardening
nipples irritating her behind the thin cotton of her bra and t-shirt. He frowned
and dropped into his chair. The dog’s head emerged, and he scratched it
distractedly. She perched on the desk across from him. Garrett. Garrett. Remember what you have Lori. Don’t be a dumb ass,
impulsive… Oh my god.
In an eye blink
he’d risen, pulled her to her feet, and was kissing her, sweeping into her
mouth with his tongue, the hard rasp of his beard against her face bringing
tears to her eyes. He maneuvered them back into a corner, flipped off the
lights and kept kissing her, pressing his tall, hard body into hers. They
stayed silent, lips and hands all over each other without words or explanation.
BUY IT!
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and more....
Liz's Links
www.lizcrowe.com (a few more days to entire GIANT CONTEST HERE!)
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