Escape to New Zealand
- At January 31, 2019
- By Roxanne Snopek
- In Rox Reads
- 0
I’ve always wanted to escape to New Zealand
(This won’t happen until 2023, stay tuned!)
There’s nothing like escaping to warmer climes during the deep, dark days of winter. Alas, we took holidays in November, so any escape I manage now will come through the pages of a book. The Escape to New Zealand series by Author Rosalind James been entertaining me recently, mostly because the audio versions are narrated by the talented Claire Bocking. Her ability to do a Kiwi accent is amazing!
The are 12 books in the series, at least, and it’s available in a few combinations as well, I believe. These two were my favorites. I highly recommend the audio books!
Audie nominee, Best Romance Audiobook, 2015
Everyone needs to be rescued sometimes.
Everyone but Hannah Montgomery, that is. She just needs a vacation. Three weeks in New Zealand to sort out her life, figure out what she wants, seems just right. Oh, and to relax. She should definitely put that on the agenda. She certainly isn’t looking for a sexy fling with a professional rugby player, no matter how attractive he is. Hannah doesn’t do casual. But maybe just this once …
As much as he’s shared with Hannah, Drew Callahan has kept one very big secret: that he’s the captain of the All Blacks, New Zealand’s international rugby team, not to mention the best-known rugby player on earth. And learning the truth, now that she’s back home again, has made Hannah warier than ever. Drew knows that she’s right for him. But how can he convince her to let down her guard enough to explore what they could have together?
Just This Once: Escape to New Zealand Book One
For teacher Jenna McKnight, nothing spells “heartbreak” like finding her husband with somebody else–in her bed. It’s clearly time to reinvent herself. A new body, a new city, and a new job later, she’s done just that. The beautiful Auckland villa isn’t really her home, though. Finn Douglas and his kids aren’t really her family, however much she wishes they were. And playing house can be a dangerous game.
Rugby star Finn Douglas is just looking for a temporary nanny and housekeeper. Not a girlfriend, and definitely not a wife. He can’t resist Jenna’s cooking, it’s true. Who knew he’d have so much trouble resisting her? He wants to do what’s right for his kids. But waiting is so hard …
Just For Now (Escape to New Zealand Book 3)
And here’s the box-set containing the first three books, including Just Good Friends (Escape to New Zealand Book 2)
I never imagined I’d be interested in reading (listening) to stories about rugby players but the New Zealand setting, the Maori culture and the steamy stories surprised me. Now, if I ever visit, I’ll be sure to go when the All Blacks are playing!
The second volume contains books 4-6 and looks great, too.
A Sheriff, an Elf, and a Reindeer…
A sheriff, an elf, and a reindeer…
No, it’s not the start of a joke. 🙂 It’s the very first Christmas story I wrote, a novella titled SAVING THE SHERIFF. The hero, a sheriff, is looking after his friends’ ranch during the holidays, when he discovers a woman dressed as an elf and a trailer of “reindeer” stuck in the snow. He’s a bit uptight, she’s a free spirit but when they get stormed in, they discover they have more in common than they thought.
Here’s a snippet for you:
“Help you?”
Frankie jumped and dropped her flashlight. Bone-deep instinct kicked in, a primal watch out, honey! Not necessarily danger…but maybe.
Two words, and oh, baby. No gruff old-timer, his voice sounded young, strong…and smoky, full of…campfire stories…and marshmallows roasted on fresh-cut branches…
She gave her head a shake. Don’t be an idiot, Frankie.
He was a man with a truck.
“I’m stuck.” She put on her most innocent grin and faced the headlights. She couldn’t see a thing through the snow. “Can you help me out?”
Three River was supposed to be empty over Christmas. At least, the ranch’s Facebook page had indicated the family was in Maui. The mustang sanctuary was well-known among animal lovers and Frankie felt certain they’d have helped her cause, if she could have asked them. So she’d taken a chance that they wouldn’t mind. That in fact, they’d never know.
Yet here was a man, from what she could hear over the snarl of engines and wind. A man unexpected, in every way.
But what if he was private security? Or worse, a game warden.
Stop it! Think positively, Frankie!
Maybe, despite the little mishap with the ditch, the universe was on her side after all. Maybe this was just a kindhearted local who’d be delighted to help out a damsel in distress.
The man stepped out, leaving the engine running and the driver’s door standing open. This time she caught a glimpse of a cowboy hat and beneath it, a stubbled jawline. Broad shoulders. And tall. He held up a much better flashlight than the one she had, shining it high, scanning the truck, the listing trailer. Then scanning her. The beam of light traveled over her body, up and down, leaving no inch untouched. Warmth rose to her cheeks, prickly in the winter air.
“Wanna tell me who you are and what you’re doing here?” He cleared his throat and she thought she heard the glimmer of a smile. “Lost on your way to work?”
“Ha-ha.” She sighed and stamped her feet, aching with cold now that she was standing still. “Yes, I’m wearing an elf costume. Can you pull me out or what?”
He walked up to the trailer and shone the beam inside. He moved smoothly, deliberately—like a hunter she thought, her breath quickening.
“That option disappeared about six inches ago, I’d say.” The man knocked his fist against the side of the truck, the metal echoing hollowly, and then he moved the light off her and aimed it out into the empty field. “Red LeClair, Lutherton sheriff and currently in charge of this icy little slice of heaven. Wanna tell me what’s going on out here? Ma’am?”
Sheriff! Universe: home run, Frankie: out.
Frankie followed his light where it dissolved in the darkness, watched it catch on low shrubs and rocks sticking up through the snow. She swept a gloved hand over her cheek and bit her lip. She’d expected the animals to bound off into the sunset the second she opened the trailer, but it hadn’t happened like that. They’d wandered off to the nearest wooded area, but that’s as far as they’d gone. At least the snow was coming down so hard and fast their hoofprints were nearly covered already. But would they find the food set out for the mustangs? They wouldn’t last long in this weather.
Go! Run! She urged them silently. Had she been too late? Were they already too habituated to humans? This was the perfect location for them. Perfect!
As his light moved, she could see the gleam of eyes, still watching from the woods. Darn!
“What this looks like,” he said, clicking off his light and crossing his arms, “is trespassing. For starters.”“Look,” she said, eager to draw his attention back. “I’m sure this looks a little…odd—”
She swallowed. “Technically, you might have a point. But I can explain.”
“How about we start with your license and registration, please. Ma’am.”
And that’s when Frankie began to suspect the universe wasn’t just having a little fun at her expense, but was in fact a PMSing
hag. She rummaged through the glove box until she found the crumpled insurance papers belonging to Conrad Toole, the man who owned the truck and the dilapidated roadside Christmas display she’d been part of. Until tonight, when she’d liberated the five young elk he’d been parading as reindeer.
She could see how this might appear sketchy.
A Sweet Christmas Treat
Today’s Teaser: a sweet Christmas treat
My story A SWEET MONTANA CHRISTMAS is about a couple with more than their share of burdens. They’ve lost their way in life, and with each other and although their love remains, they don’t know how to find their way back. They find themselves starting over on a derelict honey farm in Montana. I loved writing this book so much!
One of my favorite scenes in this story is when Austin, the husband, attempts to wash his wife’s hair. The hot-water tank is out of commission and the facilities are, shall we say, rustic. But he wants so badly to make Melinda less miserable and so he does this clumsy, thoughtful thing that ends up being a bit of a mess. Those are, I think, the most romantic gestures; not the ones that work perfectly, but the ones that involve risk, the chance of failure, of being laughed at.
**
Austin set the aluminum tub on the butcher-block table in the kitchen.
“Come here,” he said.
Melinda looked at him with caution, but he could feel excitement, thrumming like a field, around her like a field.
Fear and temptation.
She stepped up to him and he handed her a towel.
He wanted to unzip that thick hoodie and pull it off. To lift up the shirt beneath, little by little, revealing her creamy torso by inches, until he could see the lower swelling of her breasts.
“Eyes up, big guy.”
He jumped. “Sorry.” He laughed shakily. “Habit.”
He gestured to the chair. “Sit. Put this around your neck. I’d ask you to take off your top, but…”
To his surprise, she slipped out of her hoodie. Underneath, she wore a tank top and it was fantastically obvious that she was braless.
Her breasts looked larger, the nipples pink and straining through the thin fabric.
He adjusted his pants. This was going to be harder than he thought, pun intended.
“Are you going to wash my hair, Austin?”
She asked it in a smoky voice that might have come straight out of an old western saloon. Low and slow and smooth as honey.
“I am.” He helped her lean back and draped her hair into the small tub. “Comfortable?”
“I’m okay.”
He scooped a bowlful of water and poured it over her head, being careful not to get any in her eyes.
She groaned, deep in her throat, a sound that sent more blood rushing southward, a sound he’d only heard when she was in his arms, sweaty, sated and limp with pleasure.
He stroked her hair, lifting it and continuing to pour, getting every bit saturated.
Then he squirted a handful of shampoo and began massaging it into her head. He’d never done this before and water splashed onto the table.
A bit of foam dripped onto her throat, then slid slowly toward the neckline of her tank top. She lifted her hand and caught it, without looking. The sight of her fingers, caressing her skin, so close to those rosy nipples…
“Ow!”
The towel beneath her neck slipped, allowing the sharp edge of the tub to bite into her skin.
“Damn, sorry, baby,” he said. He tried to tug it up but his soapy hands slipped. He bumped the tub with his elbow and suds splashed onto the table.
Way harder than he expected. In every way.
Suddenly he was aware of Mel, giggling. She put her hand to her mouth, trying to hide it, to let him carry on.
Then she grasped the back of her head and sat up, dragging the towel with it, laughing freely.
He felt like an idiot. Washing a woman’s hair was supposed to be a sensual thing, not a comedy show.
She leaned forward, laughing with her whole body now, and he felt the humor tickle him, too.
“That,” she said, between gasps, “was the single best shampoo… I’ve ever had.”
“Liar,” he said. But her joy unlocked something inside him and before he knew it, the two of them were bracing themselves against each other, bent over at the waist, howling, while water dripped onto the floor and Mel’s still-soapy hair sagged onto her shoulders.
“We’re going to have to heat more water,” said Mel, when she got her voice back. “I need a rinse.”
Her face was flushed and her now mostly-transparent tank top had slipped off one shoulder. Dark hair, red lips, those pink nipples. She looked like a strawberry sundae, with chocolate drizzle and whipped cream on top and yeah, he wanted to eat her up.
“There’s enough hot water,” he said, taking her hand, “to do this properly.”