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  • My Rebel Highlander (Highland Adventure) (Volume 6)
    My Rebel Highlander (Highland Adventure) (Volume 6)
    by Vonda Sinclair
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Welcome to The Romance Book Club!


Step Inside the Book: THE RETURN OF THE REBEL by Jennifer Faye 

Step Inside the Book featuring...

by Jennifer Faye

Order now:

Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble  |  iTunes

Jax and Cleo reunite under the bright lights of Las Vegas. They’ve come a long way from their childhood friendship in Small Town, Wyoming. Jax is a reformed bad boy but trouble still has a way of finding him. Follow their journey in THE RETURN OF THE REBEL.


HERO -  Jax Monroe has transformed himself from rebellious youth into a millionaire hedge fund manager. He’s 6’3” of sexy hotness with close-cropped brown hair and mesmerizing blue-gray eyes.

HEROINE – Cleo Sinclair grew up on a Wyoming ranch but felt restless and went off to an Ivy League college seeking a future far from home. This green eyed beauty with the long, wavy honey blonde locks settled in Las Vegas and worked her way up to casino host.

SETTING – THE RETURN OF THE REBEL takes place in the town that never sleeps, Las Vegas, Nevada. Cleo works in the Glamour Casino & Hotel. With Jax being a high roller, he’s accorded a private bungalow. To reach it they must follow a private pathway lined with palm trees, greenery and a waterfall that is part of the pool area.

Letter to Readers:

Dear Reader:

When the idea for Jax and Cleo's story came to mind, I was enthralled with the idea of using Las Vegas as the setting. I find the history of that city, from the danger to the excitement, so unique. Vegas was full of action and I wanted to bring a hint of that flavor into Jax and Cleo's story.

Cleo is a small town girl searching for something to fulfill her and she thinks she'll find it in this vibrant city. What she doesn't know and must learn is that fulfillment and satisfaction are things that come from within. And sometimes they are the things we've known all along but have forgotten or discarded as not important enough.

Jax is drawn to Vegas as a means of escape, hoping to get lost in a crowd while enjoying the rush of excitement as he tests Lady Luck. What he doesn't count on is running into a blast from the past--his best friend's little sister, who isn't so little anymore. But this unexpected reunion isn't the only hitch in his Vegas getaway.

Cleo and Jax are a great match as they challenge each other to conquer their fears. I hope you'll enjoy their mishaps and adventures on their journey to find their happily ever after.

Happy reading,



 To Learn More:


(Day 1) Special Edition Romance Previews: WYATT'S WAR by Myla Jackson


by Myla Jackson

July 8, 2014 Release

Order Now:

Samhain Publishing | Amazon Kindle | Nook | Kobo


Hearts & Heroes, Book 1

After a particularly difficult operation in Somalia, Master Sergeant Wyatt Magnus is stuck with “light” duty providing anti-terrorist security for delegates at the International Trade Convention in San Antonio.

As he settles in for what he expects will be an easy assignment, he discovers he’s got a whole new kind of battle on his hands with the convention’s director, a tightly packaged, five-foot-nothing, sexy piece of work with an iron fist.

Under pressure to bring foreign dignitaries to the River Walk without a hitch, Fiona Allen doesn’t have time to babysit a Special Forces grunt with a superiority complex. Even if just looking at him makes her mouth water.

When a hotel snafu lands them in the same room, at first she’s steaming mad. Then burning up in smoking-hot desire. But even as she tells herself he’s a one-time ride, trouble is brewing behind the scenes. The kind of trouble with a vendetta—and a detonator.

Warning: Contains one hot hero with a gift for strategic placement of his hands, one fiery redhead who’d like to make a career out of exploring every rippling muscle, and one hotel room that’s about to see some serious action. Fire extinguisher recommended.

For more information:

To learn more about Myla Jackson visit her website at Or join her newsletter to enter in the fun with other readers:


Website | Facebook | Newsletter


Excerpt 1

Chapter One

Sergeant Major Wyatt Magnus pushed past the pain in his knee, forcing himself to finish a three-mile run in the sticky heat of south Texas. Thankfully his ribs had healed and his broken fingers had mended enough he could pull the trigger again. He didn’t anticipate needing to use the nine-millimeter Beretta tucked beneath his fluorescent vest. San Antonio wasn’t what he’d call a hot zone. Not like Somalia, his last real assignment.

It wouldn’t be long before his commander saw he was fit for combat duty, not playing the role of a babysitter for fat tourists, politicians and businessmen visiting the Alamo and stuffing themselves on Tex-Mex food while pretending to attend an International Trade Convention.

The scents of fajitas and salsa filled the air, accompanied by the happy cadence of a mariachi band. Twinkle lights lit the trees along the downtown River Walk as he completed his run around the San Antonio Convention Center and started back to his hotel. Neither the food, nor the music lightened his spirits.

Since being medevaced out of Somalia to San Antonio Medical Center, the combined armed forces’ medical facility, he’d been chomping at the bit to get back to where the action was. But for some damn reason, his commander and the psych evaluator thought he needed to cool his heels a little longer and get his head on straight before he went back into the more volatile situations.

So what? He’d been captured and tortured by Somali militants. If he hadn’t been so trusting of the men he’d been sent to train in combat techniques, he might have picked up on the signs. Staff Sergeant Dane might not be dead and Wyatt wouldn’t have spent three of the worst weeks of his life held captive. He’d been tortured: nine fingers, four ribs and one kneecap broken and had been beaten to within an inch of his life. All his training, his experience in the field, the culture briefings and in-country observations hadn’t prepared him for complete betrayal by the very people he had been sent there to help.

He understood why the Somali armed forces had turned him over to the residual al-Shabab militants that were attempting a comeback after being ousted from the capital, Mogadishu. He might have done the same if his family had been kidnapped and threatened with torture and beheading if he didn’t hand over the foreigners.

No, he’d have found a better way to deal with the terrorists. A way that involved very painful deaths. His breathing grew shallower and the beginning of a panic attack snuck up on him like a freight train.

Focus. The psych doc had given him methods to cope with the onset of anxiety that made him feel like he was having a heart attack. He had to focus to get his mind out of Somalia and torture and back to San Antonio and the River Walk.

Ahead he spied the pert twitch of a female butt encased in hot pink running shorts and a neon green tank top. Her ass was as far from the dry terrain of Somalia as a guy could get. Wyatt focused on her and her tight buttocks, picking up the pace to catch up. She was a pretty young woman with an MP3 device strapped to her arm with wires leading to the earbuds in her ears. Her dark red hair pulled back in a loose ponytail bounced with every step. Running in the zone, she seemed to ignore everything around but the path in front of her.

Once he caught up, Wyatt slowed to her pace, falling in behind. His heart rate slowed, returning to normal, his breathing regular and steady. Panic attack averted, he felt more normal, in control and aware of the time. As much as he liked following the pretty woman with the pink ass and the dark red, bobbing ponytail, he needed to get back and shower before he met the coordinator of the International Trade Convention.

Wyatt lengthened his stride and passed the woman, thankful that simply by jogging ahead of him, she’d brought him back to the present and out of a near clash with the crippling anxiety he refused to let get the better of him.

As he put distance between him and the woman in pink, he passed the shadow of a building. A movement out of the corner of his eye made him spin around. He jogged in a circle, his pulse ratcheting up, his body ready, instincts on high alert. The scuffle of feet made him circle again and stop. He crouched in a fighting stance and faced the threat, the memory of his abduction exploding in his mind, slamming him back to Somalia, back to the dry terrain of Africa and the twenty rebels who’d jumped him and Dane when they’d been leading a training exercise in the bush.

Instead of Somali militants garbed in camouflage and turbans, a small child darted out of his parents’ reach and ran past Wyatt, headed toward the edge of the river.

His mother screamed, “Johnnie, stop!”

By the time Wyatt grasped that the child wasn’t an al-Shabab fighter, the kid had nearly reached the edge.

© 2014 Myla Jackson

(excerpt continued on Tuesday)


Book of the Week: CRASHING DOWN by Cathryn Fox

ISBN ebook: 978-1-928056-01-0
ISBN Print: 978-1-928056-03-4

Kindle | Nook | Kobo | iTunes/iBooks

When reckless meets responsible...

Straight A student Kathryn Lane is all work and no play. She's determined
to keep her scholarship, and that means no distractions...until she takes
a summer internship at Stone Cliff Resort and meets bad boy Noah Ryan. She
knows she should keep her distance‹after all he¹s not the kind of guy she
can bring home to daddy‹but his disarming smile and dangerous ways are
entirely too tempting.

College dropout, Noah Ryan takes one look at Kathryn and instantly knows
her type‹ambitious, driven and determined, just like he used to be, before
the accident that derailed his life and left him an emotional wreck. He
vows to avoid her, but when a co-worker backs him into a bet he can¹t
refuse, everything he¹s been running from is challenged and he¹s forced to
confront his demons.

Soon, Kathryn and Noah are lost to everything except each other. As their
lives become entwined, their passion is reckless, their heat all-consuming
but when hurtful truths spill out, can Noah prove himself worthy of the
one girl who can heal his wounded heart, or will the fire they ignited
turn to ash when it all comes crashing down?

Letter to Readers:

I¹m so excited about the release of CRASHING DOWN, the first of six
stories in the Summer Lovin¹ series with each book releasing two weeks
apart. In this series, not only do we have characters making appearances
in each others¹ stories, and a beautiful mountain resort as the backdrop,
these books have everything readers love in the New Adult genre:love, sex,
angst, betrayal and pain.  I¹ve written over fifty books and I¹m often
asked which is my favorite.  It¹s a hard question to answer, but I must
say CRASHING DOWN is at the top of the list.  I didn¹t hold any punches
with my tortured hero, Noah.  I let him act the way any twenty-one year
old emotionally wrecked guy would act, and I really hope my readers come
away loving him as much as I do.

~Cathryn Fox

New York Times and USA today bestselling author

Read an excerpt:

Before she even realized what was happening, he fished her out again, and threw her over her shoulders. The movement forced the water from her lungs as he carried her to the shore. He laid her out on the ground and tilted her head back. A second later his mouth was on hers.

Bursts of warm air filled her lungs, but she couldn’t think about that right now. No, right now all she could think about was how hot his lips felt, how his mouth tasted like beer and cinnamon and everything nice. Unable to stop herself, she moaned, her nipples tightening as she wrapped her hands around his head.

He stiffened and inched back. Their eyes met, and when confusion morphed into understanding, he said, “I thought you were drowning. I was performing—”

“CPR,” she rushed out, mortified. Please ground, open up and swallow me whole! “I knew that.”

Good Lord, how could she think he was kissing her? She resisted the urge to slap her forehead for being so stupid. Of course he was performing CPR. He was a trained, white water rafting guide. He probably did this kind of thing all the time.

He continued to hover over her, his mouth still so close. She was more apt to drown in the embarrassment flooding her than the lake water. Working to appear unaffected, she went up on one elbow, and wrung the water from her hair. Then she turned her attention to the floral dress clinging to her body like a second skin. She peeled it away from her hips. When it made a sucking sound, she cringed and tried to wipe away the makeup running down her face. Good god, she could only image what she must look like. So much for Amy spending hours on her hair and makeup.

So much for snagging the hottest guy...

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure,” she sputtered.

He narrowed his eyes, like he didn’t believe her. “I thought you took in some water.”

As moonlight spilled over her rescuer, her glance moved over his face, then dropped lower to take in the leather jacket stretched over broad shoulders. She’d seen him twice today, and knew he was hot, but having him this close, did the most ridiculous things to her body. As her brain practically shut down, her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, once again mimicking a damned hooked fish.

Get it together, Kathryn.

He leaned over her for a long moment, staring down at her. He had a strange look on his face, like he didn’t know whether to stay there or run the other way. Finally he said, “Come on.” He climbed to his feet, and pulled her up with him, placing his hand on the small of her back to guide her to away from the water. She tried to concentrate on her walking. But it was damn near impossible to put one foot in front of the other when all she could think about was how good his fingers felt splayed over her back. He led her to a piece of driftwood, where his helmet laid in the sand. He sat and pulled her down with him.

He put his elbows on his knees, folded one hand over the other, and turned toward her, watching her closely. “Why don’t you just take a minute.”

“I’m okay, really.”

“You don’t seem okay to me.”

She shrugged, trying for casual. “That’s just because you don’t know me.”

“So you’re not hurt?”

She forced a smile. “Only my pride.”

After a long moment he let it go and gave her a playful look. “I’m Noah,” he said, his voice a little deeper than it was moments ago.

“I...know. I heard all about you.”

He arched a brow. “Oh yeah. What have you heard?”

Before she could help herself, she said, “That you should come with a warning label.” God what did she say that for? Clearly his closeness was messing with her mind.


(Day 5) Special Edition Romance Previews: MY REBEL HIGHLANDER by Vonda Sinclair





 Order now from

 Amazon | Barnes and Noble | iBooks


ABOUT THE BOOK: Known for his wicked wit, fierce loyalty, and skills in battle, Robert "Rebbie" MacInnis, the Earl of Rebbinglen, loves freedom and has no plans of marrying anytime soon. But when his father, a powerful Scottish marquess, signs a contract betrothing Rebbie to an earl's young daughter, he is furious. If he has to marry, he's determined to choose his own bride, though he has no inkling who he would wish to wed until fate intervenes to remind him of one fair-haired, nameless beauty and the passionate night they spent together years ago. A night forever etched in his memory.


Lady Calla Ferguson, a penniless widow with a young son, is forced to seek employment as her cousin's companion in order to pay her late husband's massive gambling debt. Having been ignored or mistreated most of her life, Calla has become a resourceful survivor who will stop at nothing to get what she wants—safety and security for her son and herself. Wealthy merchant, Claybourne cares little for the money the Earl of Stanbury owed him; he simply wants the earl's beautiful, voluptuous widow and he'll do whatever it takes to get his hands on her, even kidnapping and blackmail.

When Rebbie happens upon Claybourne abducting Calla, he rescues her and hides her in a secluded castle deep in the wild Scottish Highlands. Calla conceals her passionate spirit beneath reserve and duty, along with closely-guarded secrets which, if exposed, could ruin both her life and her son's. Years ago, she lost her heart to a dark-eyed stranger she never thought to see again, but now he's her protector. Rebbie craves another pleasurable night like the one they shared in the past, and she cannot resist the fiery passion that echoes deep in her heart and soul. Soft but strong, Calla sparks within Rebbie a desperate hunger and a need to protect her. But will her secrets tear them apart?

Learn more at:



Day 5:

Though Rebbie wants to stay at Draughon Castle to be close to Calla, he leaves when Lady Elena and her father try to force him into the marriage with Elena. After going on a three day errand, he returns to Draughon Village and spends a night at the inn. This is what happens the next morning.


Wearing his belted plaid kilt, Rebbie stepped out of the Breakstane Inn and approached his saddled horse where the groom from the livery stable held him. He secured his clothing behind his saddle. Dreading the trip to Draughon and the conversation to come with Barclay, he hoisted himself into the saddle.

A scream sliced through the air.

"What the devil?" His gaze scanned the village.

Down the street, in front of the livery, a man carried a kicking, screaming woman into the stables.

"Hold him," Rebbie said to the groom, then leapt off the horse and ran forward, determined to help her, whoever she was. She wore a black cloak and cowl but a lock of blond hair slipped free. Given her petite size, the woman looked like… Nay, it couldn't be.


He withdrew his sword and charged into the stables.

"Release her, you whoreson!" Halting, Rebbie squinted into the dimness, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

"This is none of your concern, Highlander." The man's voice grated from the shadows.

Rebbie now easily discerned the man's gangly silhouette. He held Calla, his hand over her mouth muffling her protests. Her eyes wide with terror, she kicked and elbowed her captor, but he didn't loosen his hold.

"Release Lady Stanbury or I will cut you down where you stand!"

Laughing, the man shoved Calla into one of the stalls, latched the door, then drew his basket-hilt broadsword.

"Rebbie!" Calla rattled the door as if trying to open it. "Nay! Watch out!"

"Have no fear. I'll get you out," he told her. "Once I kill this whoreson."

Claybourne charged and thrust the blade, but Rebbie easily deflected his blow. The man was tall and thin, dressed in well-tailored dark brown breeches and doublet with an expensive collar at his neck. Obviously, some sort of laird. Rebbie struck out, his blade nicking the man's arm through his fine doublet. Blood soaked the exposed white linen of his shirt.

The man flicked a glance down at his arm. "Bastard!"

Rebbie sent him a malicious grin and sliced again but the man dodged back.

"Hastings!" the knave yelled through the wide, open doorway toward the street.

Och. So he needed backup, did he?

Rebbie pressed his attack and the man fled the stables. Rebbie ran to the stall where Calla was confined and opened the door. "Are you well?"


"What the devil is going on?"

Tears glinting in her eyes, she shook her head. "Is he gone?"

"He ran outside. Come. I must get you back to Draughon." He offered his elbow and she slid her hand around it. "What are you doing here alone?"

"I'm not alone. The driver, maid, and guard are with the coach down the street," she said, her voice shaky. "I came to pick up Lady Elena's dress."

He didn't have time to ask what she was doing so far from the coach and the others in her party. Wielding his bloody-tipped sword, Rebbie glanced this way and that as he led her from the stables. On the muddy street, at twenty yards, the whoreson stood talking to another man. Almost a half-dozen others stood behind him.

"Grab her!" he yelled and charged forward with the rest of his men.

"What the hell?" Rebbie muttered and rushed Calla to his horse. Why were these men after her? He didn't have time to ask questions. After sheathing his sword, he lifted her into his saddle and leapt on behind her. He headed the horse toward Draughon, but when he rounded the bend at the edge of the village, several armed men on horseback waited in the road, too many for him to best alone while protecting Calla.

Rebbie drew his sword and slashed at the first man to approach. The blade sliced his forearm and he fell back, screaming. The other men on horseback formed a barricade across the road leading to Draughon, swords drawn. With Calla on his horse, he couldn't risk riding head-long through them. She could be grievously injured or killed.

His only other alternative was a well-worn trail leading to the right. Mayhap he could circle around to Draughon. He guided Devil in that direction.

"Stop them!" the whoreson yelled behind them.

Holding Calla tightly before him, Rebbie urged the stallion into a breakneck gallop across the moor. The horse relished a good run anyway. Rebbie tried to figure out how to circle back to Draughon Castle, but then he remembered that the River Tay lay in their path. The bridge was further back. Damnation. Now what was he going to do? With all the rain, the river was too deep and swollen to wade through.

He glanced back at the dozen or more pursuers in the distance. "Hell," he growled through clenched teeth. Why were they so determined to capture Calla?

As they crossed a grassy field, Rebbie gave the horse his head. Devil leapt a stone dyke, then galloped along another muddy road. He followed it northwest for a mile or two. Moments later, he slowed Devil, not wanting to lather him, and glanced back. The whoresons were nowhere in evidence, but Rebbie still had to keep ahead of them.

Or mayhap he could outsmart them.

A thick wood lay ahead. The dark green leaves would provide good cover. He directed the horse into the trees, hoping to hide while their pursuers rode by. Then, they could double back and head south again toward Draughon.

Devil's breath whooshed in and out. 'Twas the only sound within the quiet forest, but not loud enough for anyone approaching to hear over their own horses' hoof-beats… if anyone should appear.

Rebbie focused on the road he could see through the branches, but the sweet floral scent of Calla's unbound hair wafted up his nose, distracting him.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked her.

"Nay. I thank you for rescuing me." Her soft, feminine voice grabbed at something within him, making him want to protect her with every last ounce of strength he possessed.

"I'm glad I was there to help." He couldn't imagine what the knave would've done to her if he hadn't shown up. Raped her? Killed her?

None of the bastards passed by on the road beyond the wood. He listened for hoof-beats in the distance, but all was quiet.

"Where the devil are they?" Rebbie grumbled. "No doubt lying in wait for us to return. How would he know we need to get to Draughon Castle?"

When Calla didn't respond, he frowned, growing more and more curious. "Who is that bastard? He's a laird, is he not?"

Calla nodded and turned toward him a bit. "A wealthy merchant. Edward Claybourne. But, aye, he owns land."

"And why is he trying to abduct you?"

Her back to him, she faced forward again and dropped her head, as if she were staring down at her hands.

"Come now, Calla. Tell me," he said gently, eyeing her lush flaxen curls, wanting to bury his hand in them and experience the softness of her.

He hadn't asked if he could call her Calla, but given their past intimacy, he thought 'twas not out of the question. And he certainly wanted her to call him Rebbie.

She turned her head, her profile clear. "Claybourne and my late husband often gambled. Stanbury lost everything he owned—which wasn't entailed—to him and grew deeply in debt before he died. I've been repaying Claybourne, but 'tis not enough."

"'Slud!" Rebbie shook his head, his heart sinking, just imagining the horrible situation she was entangled in. "What a bastard." Both her husband and Claybourne.

She nodded.

Hell. That had to mean Calla was penniless, then. That was why she was working as a companion to Elena. How could her husband leave her in such dire straits? Had he been daft? This Claybourne was evidently a piece of work, trying to abduct her because he'd won everything from her late husband. What an evil-hearted whoreson. He'd best not touch Calla again or Rebbie would slice him limb from limb. He couldn't risk riding back south with Calla. He couldn't fight Claybourne's garrison singlehandedly and still protect her.

Her feminine scent, a blend of roses and lavender, teased his nose. Damnation, but she was bewitching. He wanted to bury his nose in her hair and breathe her in. She would of a certainty think him mad. He would also love to smell the delicate skin of her neck, then kiss her there. Taste her. Hell. He almost growled the word.

"We'll ride northwest." Rebbie needed to distract himself from her allure and focus on how best to keep her safe.

"Where will we go?" she asked. Despite the dangerous situation, he found himself liking the sound of we coming from her lips. Was he daft? There was no we.

"I have a small castle deeper in the Highlands," he said. "Tummel Castle, about forty miles from here…"


(excerpt concluded)



Happy 4th of July from Eye On Romance and The Romance Book Club


Have a wonderful and safe holiday!