Monthly Archives: November 2011

Dating 911 (Dating Series, Book #1) by Kathleen Grieve

Today I'm pleased to host talented author, Kathleen Grieve for a free giveaway and excerpt from her new book, Dating 911. It's the first in her Dating Series (why didn't I think of this?) She's creatively given us an interview with the hunky hero, Dr. Cruz Avery. Get out your favorite cup of coffee and let's curl up with this guy by the fire. He's welcome to have his way with my site anytime. PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO COMMENT AND WIN A COPY OF DATING 911 so you can have Cruz all for your very own…



“Hello, I’d like to introduce myself.  I’m Dr. Cruz Avery and you will meet me in Kathleen Grieve’s current release, Dating 911.  It is the story of my twin brother, Jett and how he doesn’t use the best judgment when dealing with his post traumatic stress disorder after he lost his best friend in a fire.”

“But has Jett ever used good judgment?” A bitter laugh escapes full, sexy lips.  “Hell no!  I remember the time when we…”Cruz shrugs and shakes his head.  “Never mind.  So.  He steals my girl and I get stuck at a dinner party with one of my Mother’s “choice” dates, who by the way was no peach, not even if you counted the fuzz growing on her chin.  Why would be pissed off?  Well, Roxanne wasn’t exactly mine…but she would’ve if Jett wouldn’t have come barging in, fire hose blazing…” 

Cruz paces the new office he was recently given when he was promoted as the Director of Phoenix General’s Emergency Room.  It’s small, windowless, with only enough room for a generic desk, bookshelf crammed with medical texts and budget binders, and a chair for a guest, but he spans the 5×10 room anyway. 

He turns to me and pierces me with those penetrating grey eyes.  “Why didn’t I get Roxanne and not Jett?  Was it because he was so tragic? Lost?  Women fall for that sort of thing, I guess.  Do I sound like a bitter asshole?”

He straightens and smoothes the dark blue silk tie and black Armani suit jacket he is wearing.  “I’m not hurting for dates.  I have more women than I know what to do with.  I am Dr. Cruz Avery, after all.”

It was my turn to shrug.  As his creator, I’m fully aware that Cruz doesn’t want to hear my answer, as he sits back behind his desk and shuffles some papers.

“Work.  That’s what I need.  Forget women…Forget dating all together.  This ER is a complete mess and I intend to make some real changes here…”

Poor Cruz.  What happened to him in Dating 911?  Did he deserve Roxanne’s love?  What’s in store for him in Book 2 of my Dating Series, Dating Impossible.  Will he finally find the happiness he deserves?

Before I go I’d like to thank Sharon Hamilton for having me here today! I’d like to leave you with a picture of Dr. Cruz Avery looking a bit more relaxed…

When you look like this, I can see why Roxanne had a really hard time choosing between these hot twins!

Please Leave a comment. I’d like to share a free digital copy of my book, Dating 911 to one lucky commenter!  Have a great day!


Emergency room nurse, Roxanne Carter is a loser-magnet wishing she could enjoy her single life. Commiserating with girlfriends over butterscotch martinis creates the idea of The Dating Manifesto–a not so scientific research project which promises to point the way to dating success. While gathering data to find the most suitable single men available, she wades through a series of unsavory, stale dates, which literally places her back at ground zero. Just when she is ready to give up, sin personified in the form of sexy firefighter Jett Avery, arrives tainting all of her previous data.
A traumatic warehouse fire, in which firefighter Jett Avery's closest friend dies, has him suffering from Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. Attempting to stave off the worst of his depression, he decides to use his brand of therapy…Sex. The remedy has lost luster until he encounters ER nurse Roxanne Carter.
The pursuit of Roxanne by Jett's twin brother, Doctor Cruz Avery, complicates her research and interferes with Jett's therapy. Does Roxanne choose the brother who by analysis is the perfect match? Or the broken, dark and irresistible one?
She held up her hands, palms facing toward him. “Stop. This is a hospital. Not some stupid television show where the medical staff is always making out in a closet. I work here. Don’t even think about it!”
Jett closed the distance between them until her hands pressed against his chest, searing their imprint through the thin cotton of his T-shirt. He grasped her fingers and lifted them to his mouth, licking the sensitive tips with his tongue one by one. Heat filled her eyes and she trembled.
“You feel the pull, too. Don’t you?” he asked, dropping her hand.
Jett slid his hands to her waist, and molded her against his erection. A perfect fit. Her sharp intake of breath as she shook her head told him all he needed to know. He smiled. Satisfaction filled him.
“Liar. Shake your head in denial all you want, but I can see the reflection mirrored in your eyes, and feel the powerful draw when I touch you,” he said in a husky tone. He rubbed his stiff cock against her stomach. The intensity of his desire eliminated all reason.
Jett buried his face in her neck and breathed in her sweetness. “Hmm. Today you smell like chocolate.” His tongue traced the delicate shell of her ear as his hands stroked her bare arms. “But you taste like honey.”
Her knees bent and he placed his leg between hers to support her. On the brink of total insanity, he continued his light exploration. His hand skimmed her torso, and skirted the side of her breast. With slow, deliberate care, he let his fingertips graze her collarbone on the way to grasp the back of her neck. Another tremor rippled through her.
God, she felt so damn good.
She tilted her chin and her head rested in his open palm. “Jett,” her sultry voice caused his penis to throb. “This is not a good idea. Anyone could come in here and….”
He pushed his thigh against her crotch. She inhaled sharply, desire deepening the blue of her eyes. “You were saying?”
Her brow furrowed. “And…”
“Intoxicating being a little naughty, isn’t it?” he rasped. He gently tugged her face closer to his. “Hmm. I believe you mentioned the other night that your most recent sexual exploits have been lacking. Let’s add something of interest for your science venture.”


A graduate of University of Nebraska Medical Center, Kathleen Grieve earned a Bachelor’s Degree in Science and Nursing in 1994. She has been a dedicated nurse for the past seventeen years, serving most of those years in intensive care. Always writing, Kathleen chose to pursue yet another career- that of a writer. An avid romance reader of all genres since age 13, she decided to try a hand at writing her own novel in the summer of 2006.
She draws a lot from the real-life medical drama she experiences as a RN for her novels. Writing romance is a creative outlet where she can effectively deal with the daily stress and sorrow, adding levity and humor to situations that provide a happily ever after when there isn't one. 
To find out more about Kathleen Grieve and her books, you can stop by her blog, Keeping A Pulse On Life & Romance at:
Follow her on Twitter: @KathleenGrieve
Thank you Kathleen for visiting us today. We hope you have great success with this luscious book. Can't wait for the next one! Please do come back!!

Leave your comment and someone will get a freebie! We will inform you off-loop so you can get us your email address. Good Luck!!



$50,000 Fingernails

These don't look like $50,000 fingernails, but they are. I'm having them removed today.

I've been having my nails done for 25 solid years–since before my third child was born. It has cost me about $100-$150 per month for each of those years. When I looked at what it would have been, had I invested this money in a fund that would earn a modest 5% return, it comes to OVER $50,000.

I've enjoyed them. But Geez! Now that things are what they are with the economy, I'm actually enjoying lightening our spending habits more than actually spending the money. What a new concept.

All day today I was looking at women's nails. Most women don't have them. Why did I think I needed them? Who knows. Just one of those things you start doing (like advertising, seems like you can't stop) and then quit thinking about and just do forever. My computer doesn't care how nice my nails look. I don't think my Real Estate clients ever bought or sold a house because I had pretty nails either. I don't think my books will sell any faster if my nails are pretty. My chickens don't care, in fact, they might be less attracted to my toes if they were nail-colored, not bright red.

Last Saturday I was hit by a nice young man in the Coast Guard, in a Coast Guard van. My brand new Toyota Hybrid is totaled. Now I'm thinking about not buying another new one. It would be nice not to have a car payment. I've had one or two car payments for almost 30 years. I haven't figured out what I actually spent on this, and the last 5 cars weren't worth the loans against them when I wanted to sell them. The number would probably be enough to retire a mortgage. I'd rather have the house than the cars–all of them combined!

An early blog of mine chronicled my “End Of A Love Affair” with my beautiful Mercedes convertible I couldn't live without. Now, just a few months later, I not only don't have to have a new Mercedes, I don't have to have a new anything.

One could almost say God intervened to correct the mistake we made in getting the new car this year. I think (hope) my insurance will pay off the car loan. Then I'll save the amount I would have had in payments, and buy a nicer car when I can afford to pay cash.

Funny how this economy I complain about so much has brought me such much-needed reality. Why have I been breaking my neck for so many years to pay for things I didn't need? I've even begun shopping in used clothing stores like my girls like to do. Totally cool. And fun. And a bag of clothes, gently worn, rarely costs me more than $50. And not a soul knows the difference.

I guess I like making lemonade out of lemons. I'm grateful I get to make these good decisions and be an example for my kids to do the same. By the time they are my age, they'll not have the same worries I have.

They'll probably have a set of their own.