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October Newsletter!

OCTOBER NEWSLETTER

This one will be a "THRILLER"...

Okay, so maybe it won't exactly be a "thriller"...

I can't lie, I totally did that headline to try and get your attention. And as an excuse to reference one of my favorite Michael Jackson songs of all time. I can neither confirm nor deny that I know the moves to that dance in the video. <avoids eye contact> I have to be honest with you. I am not a fan of scary movies. However, I'm a fan of Halloween costumes—the super creative ones, especially. This one is my favorite. However, I'm more of a Pinterest-failure kind of mom so I'd never manage to make this for my child ... and have it come out looking like an actual sushi roll.

I'm gearing up for Out of Love's release in December and, I have to say, this was one of most enjoyable books to write, especially with Foster and Noelle's banter and sexual tension.

(Note: This book is written to be a completely independent standalone. If you're a fan of the Teach Me series, you will catch a glimpse of Laney and hear mention on the other characters, but the story is primarily centered on Foster and Noelle.)

<ABOVE> This is what I feel like when I look at the cover for Out of Love. Those abs, people!

In case you missed it, here is the book blurb for Out of Love: Foster Kavanaugh, former Navy SEAL, knows what it’s like to be the top dog, the man in charge, the one calling the shots. Now that he’s running his own security consulting firm, not much has changed. Except the curvy blonde he hired as his office manager. Noelle Davis has been through the damn ringer. Swearing off men after escaping a toxic relationship, she’s grateful for a fresh start—new job included. Of course, her job isn’t tranquil and calm. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Because her boss is the most infuriating man on the planet. And, not to mention, sexy as hell. Foster has limits. Rules. No attachments allowed because he doesn’t do love—and Noelle Davis foiled that plan and took a red pen to his list of rules. With her smart mouth and quick witted banter, he found the woman beginning to creep past his defenses. When circumstances put Noelle in a perilous position, the first person to come to her rescue is none other than Foster Kavanaugh. She gets to see the man in action—not as her aggravating boss, but the man who will stop at nothing to ensure her safety. The same man who makes her want to reconsider her self-imposed embargo of men. The man she wants to get to know now that she’s seen another side of him. The man who makes her want…more. But is more possible when you're OUT OF LOVE? **Out of Love is a full-length, standalone novel that does NOT need to be read in conjunction with any other book. ** Preorder links are up on my website!

In the mood for an excerpt from Out of Love?

Well, you're in luck.

(If you said no, keep on scrolling. You'll regret it, though. Trust me. It'll be reminiscent of the time you ate the mystery meat in the school cafeteria when you were in second grade. No bueno.)

COPYRIGHT @ 2016 RC BOLDT

OUT OF LOVE

~NOELLE~

The truth is, I do like his naked chest. A little too much. When he, without any hesitation, removed his own shirt to pull it down over me, recognizing the breeze might be slightly chilly for me, I nearly melted right then and there. Because the last time I had a man do that for me was back in Never Happened B.C.

But I have to stop this—this route my mind’s taking—because it’s far too dangerous. To recognize Foster Kavanaugh is a good guy is one thing. To start getting all kinds of romantic thoughts about him is a completely different—and not smart—thing. So that means I need a recap.

Facts I need to remember about Foster:

  1. He is a manwhore.

  2. I work for him.

  3. I need my job.

  4. He’s super hot.

  5. His chest is beautiful.

  6. Wait. Where was I going with this? Shit.

  7. No. Foster is a big NO. No, no, no, noooooo.

I take another sip of my wine. Then a gulp because not only are my nerves shot, but I need to get my shit together. I need to stay on track. My whole plan for moving here was to start over, to start fresh and not get tied up with a guy for a while. At least until I found one who would treat me right; one who wouldn’t end up going all psycho on me. And the truth is, I haven’t really been tempted by any of the guys I’ve met since moving here.

Okay, okay. That’s a lie. Clearly. If I didn’t have all this damn “baggage” that, more now than ever before, would let me unpack and discard it once and for all, I would likely have been interested in Foster. Because, geez Louise… He’s delicious. But he’s a manwhore. I don’t want to simply be another notch on the man’s bedpost. I deserve better. My vajayjay, however, is a slut, and she wants Foster. Baaaaad.

Truth is, I love my job and my new life here. I was welcomed with open arms by Foster’s mother—whom everyone calls Momma K.—and Foster’s sister, Laney, who’s a freaking riot, as well as the rest of the gang. I don’t want anything forcing me to leave this place I’ve come to think of as home.

Setting my wine glass back on the table, I pull my legs up to rest my heels on the edge of the chair, wrapping my arms around them. Resting my chin atop my knees, I close my eyes, listening to the sound of the crashing waves upon the shoreline less than a hundred yards away. I’m not sure how long I sit, letting the ocean breeze mixed with the scent of the citronella candles wash over me, before I realize there’s another familiar fragrance I’m picking up. Lowering my head slightly, I sniff Foster’s shirt that’s engulfing me and the smell of cologne, or deodorant, or whatever the hell he wears, which is nearly intoxicating.

Who knows how long I would have continued sniffing his shirt like one of those creepers who collects random women’s underwear, lives with his mother at age fifty, and skins cats alive for fun, when I suddenly hear a strange sliding noise from behind me.

Why am I using the above GIFY?

It's because I have exciting news!

Clam Jam will be my first release for 2017 and it's so different from any of my other work—in a good way. Pinky promise! It's fun, sweet, and sexy and early readers have said many parts were "laugh out loud funny". (Cue my dorky happy clap excitement) CJ is a romantic comedy set in Saratoga Springs, NY, a beautiful place I lived for 3.5 years while my husband was stationed there as an instructor in the Navy. Their downtown area was the bomb (yes, I really used that word) and there was always a festival of some sort going on. (Think Chowderfest, Chili Cook Offs, and Beerfests galore. Which is why we had to go to the gym all. The. Time.) Sounds magnificent, right? Well, there was one drawback for me. Winter. You know, that season with snow and bitter cold? I know, I know. I sound like a wuss, right? But if you've read my other books (based in Fernandina Beach, FL), you'll see why I love, love, LOVE beach life. I'm not a winter person. Unless it's Christmas Eve and Christmas day. So, when we moved, I mourned the area and all they had to offer but not their weather. Anyway, Maggie Finegan and Ryland James (he goes by 'Ry') are the main characters in Clam Jam.

Interested in the book blurb, by chance? Come on. Maybe just a teensy bit?

Clam Jam

“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. GOODREADS LINK: https://goo.gl/4AKorK

One last thing before you go... Did you know I have a readers' group on Facebook? If you enjoy my books even a teeny, tiny bit and want to join my group for the very first sneak peeks of book covers, book blurbs for upcoming releases and special giveaways only for those in my group, then feel free to join! Here is the link: www.facebook.com/groups/BBBReaders/

If you made it this far and I didn't put you to sleep, YAY!!

Most importantly, I have all of you to thank because you're the reason I get to write about hot sex, delicious men, and romance. Please know know how incredibly grateful I am for all of your support.

I shall not bother you again until NOVEMBER. Promise!

xoxoxoxo

RC

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