Wow!

What a great opening day I had! Please keep the sales coming and make this a great opening weekend too!

I have some surprises coming next week that I’m working on as a thank you. I can’t wait!

Here are all the links for Thankful Hearts. Please pass them on to a friend!

It’s live on Amazon now!! http://www.amazon.com/Thankful-Hearts-Holiday-Cafe-Book-ebook/dp/B017OA0S46/

All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thankfulhearts-1921896-149.html

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/590880

And a new one, Coffee Time Romance! http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookStore/pubs_product_book_info/thankful-hearts-p-14338#.Vj5GpLerTIU

Hudson sat up straight but didn’t see the motel room. Instead, he saw a shithole apartment he’d crashed in for weeks in Afghanistan protecting convoys. He heard a steady thumping against the wall. What the fuck? This place was supposed to be deserted. He jumped out of bed, and for the first time he saw Stacy lying there. Why was Stacy in Afghanistan? Why was there pounding on the wall? He wanted to grab her and run, but the memory of her grinding against him burst through his head. He glanced around, and his breathing slowed—he was just in a shitty motel in Albuquerque.

The noise stopped. He realized sweat was running down his face despite being naked in a freezing room. He needed to get the fuck out of here. He should wake Stacy up, and they could take off on his motorcycle. He didn’t know why he needed to leave, he just knew he did—and he wanted Stacy with him.

Before he had made a move, he heard a woman’s voice from the other side of the wall. “Give me my fucking money, asshole!” There was maybe laughter, followed by a smack. He stepped to the nightstand. The lamp still shone, reminding him of the erotic ways Stacy had moved her body when they made love. The thought made him pause with the drawer open. Stacy didn’t want to call it lovemaking, but his emotions for a woman had never been so intense.

The sound of glass breaking startled him into action. He pulled his Smith & Wesson Model 64 revolver out of the drawer and ran toward the window. A loud bang made him cautious as he looked between the blinds. In his peripheral vision he saw Stacy sit up. She was going to think he was crazy. He’d been determined not to have PTSD, but right now it sure as shit seemed like he did. He couldn’t endanger Stacy like this. He should leave sooner than Sunday.