Release Blitz + Excerpt + 5 Star Review: A Husband By Any Other Name by Cheryl St. John

 A Husband By Any Other Name

By Cheryl St. John

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Blurb

Caught in a lie….

Fourteen years ago Dan Beckett’s identical twin took off without a word to his pregnant young fiancé or their father. Having secretly loved Lorraine for years, Dan assumes his twin’s identity as the first-born son, as Lorraine’s husband and father of the baby she carried. Around the lie, he created the perfect life.

But now his greatest fear is coming true. His long-lost brother is coming home—with amnesia. Dan is about to lose his tenuous hold on this masquerade, and he must tell Lorraine the truth before Tom remembers his true identity.

Lorrie built a life with Tom Beckett, the man she loves, the father of her children—or so she believed. Her first reaction to his confession is disbelief…and then anger and hurt. Her whole married life has been a lie. But Lorrie has a secret of her own—a secret that never seemed important until now.

Will the truth unravel the love they once shared? What will become of their family, their children…their marriage when everyone learns the truth?

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Prologue

Fourteen Years Earlier“Sometimes I want to take off the top of your head and screw your brain in right.” Turning from his brother, Daniel Beckett gripped the wrench and tightened the last spoke on his vintage Harley, his pride and joy, as though demonstrating the procedure. “You can’t be serious.”

“Never more serious in my life, Danny-boy,” Tom replied. “Don’t make like you’re so surprised.”
Dan stared up at his identical twin standing with their father’s old duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and shock stole any words he might have come up with. He dropped the wrench with a clang and stood, wiping his grimy hands on the jersey he’d appropriated from Tom.

Tom’s dark, troubled gaze swept over the shiny black bike without seeing it and returned to Dan. “I can’t stay, man.”

He turned and faced the road.

Dan struggled with the reality of just how miserable his brother was here. Tom hated the orchards and the rural Nebraska life, always had. “I know last night was bad. Dad rides you—”

“Rides me?” Tom cut in with biting sarcasm. “He has never, for one second, got off my butt for leaving college. He talks to me like I’m some kind of idiot. Like I’m an embarrassment to him, to all of you.”

Dan scrambled for words to keep his brother home. The night before, there had been another shouting match. As usual, Dan had tried to smooth things over and only gotten himself involved in the argument. Now their father was angry with both of them.

“He thinks he knows what’s best for you, Tom. Dad wants you to take over Beckett Orchards someday.”

Tom swung around, dropping the duffel bag. “I don’t want the damned orchards!” he snapped through clenched teeth. “If I stay he’ll keep bending me. He’ll make me work the farm. He’ll make me walk and talk and act like he wants me to.” The evening sun was setting behind his shoulder. “I can’t bend anymore.” His tone changed, becoming low-timbered as he confessed, “I’ll break.”

Dan’s chest ached with a growing panic. Maybe if he’d tried harder, fought harder, he could have made a difference.

“Danny, it’s me. Not you,” Tom said.

Tom always knew what he was thinking. Dan met his knowing gaze, and nodded. He shuddered to think of his father’s reaction to this. Whether Tom wanted to admit it or not, he was Gil Beckett’s pride and joy. Or so it had always seemed to Dan. Then his thoughts shifted and something in his heart contracted. “What about Lorraine?” he asked.

Tom and everyone else called her Lorrie, but Dan always thought of her as Lorraine. The name Lorraine held the air of mystery and femininity she deserved.

Tom tilted his dark head and shrugged. “What about her?”

The offhand question sparked the first flame of anger in Dan’s gut. There was a time when he’d had his own eye on Lorraine Loring, but after Tom quit college and came home, Gil had done his best to push a relationship between them, and Lorraine was crazy about Tom. But deep in his heart, Dan had harbored an insane hope that if things didn’t work out with Tom, she might turn to him. He shook his head to clear the image. “What did you tell her?”

Tom choked back a laugh. “Tell her? Man, I haven’t told anybody anything.”

“You’re going to leave without so much as a good-bye?”

Tom scraped his jaw with a thumb. “I’m sorry about her,” he said. “Dad pushed her on me. I like her,” he added quickly. “I just don’t want to marry her. Dad told me last week it’s time to take on responsibilities, get married. Well, I don’t want to marry anybody. At least not until I’m damned good and ready.”

“Then tell Dad that,” Dan coaxed. “Tell him you don’t want to marry her.”

Tom snorted. “Oh, right. And for once you think he’s going to listen? He won’t believe the farm isn’t my thing. Why would he believe Lorrie isn’t my thing either? He’d make my life hell.”

Dan didn’t argue. He knew Tom was right. It would take something drastic—something more than talk to sway the old man. “Shouldn’t you at least tell her?”

Tom stubbed his booted toe into the dirt and shook his head. He looked past Dan’s shoulder. “She’ll get over it.”

Anger seethed in Dan’s chest. In the distance a car stirred up a cloud of dust on the road. “If you’re going, get it the hell over with then.”

Angrily, Tom scooped up the bag. Their eyes met and held. On the outside they were mirror images of each other. On the inside they were as different as night and day. Dan wished like hell he could solve this problem. Wished he could say or do something that would make a difference. But he knew his brother’s discontent, and he knew, too, that there were no easy answers. He looked away.

“Dan.”

Dan waited for his brother to speak.

“Tell Mom I love her. She’s the last one I’d want to hurt. It’s just that—” he raised his face to the lengthening summer shadows “—I can’t take this anymore.”

Their mother’s stroke had left her bedridden for the past eight months. “Sure. I’ll clean up after you, Tom. I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

Tom didn’t reply.

Finally Dan glanced around. “How are you getting there?”

Tom’s old car had needed a new fuel pump for a month. Tom hefted the bag over his shoulder. “Someone will come along,” he said with his usual careless confidence.

Dan dug in his jeans pocket, came out with the key to his bike and threw it to Tom.

Tom stared at the key in his open palm. “You’ve barely paid it off.”

“Seems like a good deal to me, trading a bike for a farm.”

Tom turned and tied the bag on the back of the Harley. He threw one leg over the seat and started the engine. Levering the kickstand up with his heel, he headed toward the open road.

Dan’s brother and his bike grew rapidly smaller until both disappeared, leaving a cloud of dust on the gravel road. An unfamiliar emptiness filled him, one he wasn’t sure how to deal with, let alone explain.

Tom was gone. His brother. His twin. Half of himself.

As though by rote, he turned, picked up his spoke wrench, dropped it into the toolbox, and closed the lid. His promise to explain things to their mother, their father, and to Lorraine closed in with suffocating heaviness. Dear God, what had he done? What had Tom done?

He slumped down on the dented lid of the metal toolbox. From inside the garage, the radio announcer predicted fair weather for the extended forecast. Tom would have a safe trip. Wherever he was headed.
A fresh shard of anger knifed through Dan’s chest. Anger at the sudden twist of fate; at being left behind, which was crazy because this was where he wanted to be; at once again taking on the garbage end of the deal and picking up the pieces while Tom went his own merry way.

An hour later, he still sat on the toolbox, chilled by the cool evening breeze, his butt numb. He was no closer to an answer. How was he going to tell his father and break the old man’s heart? It was no secret that Gil Beckett favored Thomas, the son born only minutes before Dan. Tom had the love and approval Dan craved, and he’d just thrown it all away.

Dan carried the metal box to the garage. He might as well get it over with. Come clean. Let the chips fall where they may.

Behind him, gravel crunched. He stepped out of the garage and squinted at the headlights of the car that had pulled in. The engine died and the lights went out. There was no mistaking the old Buick. Lorraine Loring got out, closed the door and walked toward him.

His heart thundered against his ribs. Not now. Not yet. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to his father, hadn’t planned what he’d say, hadn’t come to grips with it in his own mind.

“We need to talk.” Her voice trembled with something strangely like fear. Did she know already? How? Had Tom done the right thing and stopped by on his way to the great unknown? The scent of jasmine floated to him on the night air. His heart kicked into high gear. Tom was gone. Tom was gone. Tom was gone.

And Lorraine was here.

The breeze loosened a silken tendril of hair the rich color of chocolate from her ponytail.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, intuitively sensing he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Tom, I… ”

Oh, hell. Dan glanced down at the faded jersey he wore. Tom’s shirt. As she often did—as everyone did— she’d mistaken him for his brother. He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him by pressing her index finger against his lips. The touch struck him like a bolt of lightning and rooted him to the spot. He couldn’t have spoken if his life had depended on it.

“I’m scared,” she said, tears glistening in the moonlight.

Her fear—and the vulnerability in her eyes—did something queer to Dan’s insides.

“Tom, I—I’m pregnant.”

The evening sounds faded to silence. Her words rang in Dan’s head. She stood in front of him trembling, waiting…waiting for what? His shock? Anger? Rejection?

Rejection. Like Tom’s refusal to marry this girl, or anyone? Like his flip “she’ll get over it”? Like his leaving? Not that Tom had known, but his actions would be a rejection all the same. Lorraine—and her baby—didn’t deserve that.

“Damn,” he said, cursing his brother.

“It was just that one time,” she said on a sob. “I didn’t think it would happen.”

She bit her lower lip and Dan’s heart wrenched. “But it did,” he finished for her.

She nodded. Her gaze touched his and her chin quivered. “Tom?”

He took her delicate shoulders in his hands. It was the first time he’d ever touched her and he liked it. More than he should have, but as much as he’d always known he would. Willingly she came to him—make that to Tom—and nestled against his chest. The tremors in her body arrowed straight to his soul and rekindled his anger. How could Tom have left her like this? How?

Beneath his chin, her soft hair beckoned exploration. He tunneled his callused fingers through the silken strands. Her firm young breasts pressed against him in a delectable fashion. If he was going to tell her, he should tell her now. He could easily grow addicted to her nearness. He’d watched her for years, wanted her from a distance, but she’d been chosen for Tom.

Now this.

The thought that crept into his mind surpassed stupidity. That he entertained it in a rational state bordered on insanity. Sitting on that toolbox must have numbed his brain as well as his backside.
A soft shudder passed through her frame and her damp tears soaked through Tom’s shirt. How long he held her, he wasn’t sure. Finally sounds entered his consciousness: the motor tinging as it cooled beneath the hood of her father’s Buick; locusts in the orchards; LeAnn Rimes’ sultry voice from radio in the garage singing about underneath the starlight…’there’s a magical feeling, so right…it’ll steal your heart tonight.’

In the end, he really didn’t have a choice. No way could he make himself say the words. Tom’s gone and he won’t be back. Your baby’s father ran off and deserted you. But, hey—you’ll get over it. Had she not been pregnant, had she been someone else, he might have been able to explain things better.
But she wasn’t. She was Lorraine. And he wanted her.

‘Can’t fight the moonlight, no….’

She pulled back and gazed up, her expression so lovely and vulnerable it hurt. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

The decision was surprisingly easy. “It’s not your fault,” he said shortly. “We can get married.”

She caught her breath.

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

Lorraine nodded and burst into tears against his brother’s jersey.

 

 

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5Star

Michel’s Review

Imagine being married for fourteen years.  Creating the perfect family life with a successful farm, four children, and a great marriage.  One phone call changes everything.  The perfect husband is no longer you’re legal husband.  In fact he’s not the man you married.  Fourteen years of lies unravel the perfect life you have built.

Dan Beckett made a monumental mistake fourteen years earlier when his identical twin brother Tom left home.  Tom was throwing away the life Dan wanted.  Tom was walking away from the apple farm their father was handing over on a silver platter.  He was walking away from the woman that loved him with his whole heart.  He was turning his back on everything Dan held dear.  When Lorraine assumes he’s Tom and tells him she’s pregnant, he does the one thing he never dreamed he would do.  He steps into his brother shoes and claims the life he wanted.  Fourteen years of pure happiness is destroyed when a hospital in Tennessee contacts him about his brother Tom who has been in an accident. His brother has amnesia and it’s up to Dan to fill in the blanks.  Dan has to turn over the life he worked so hard for in order to save his brother.  The truth is going to come out sooner or later.  Will the truth set Dan free or destroy his life?

Tom left home because he felt smothered.  His father expected him to take over the farm he hated.  His girlfriend wanted more from him than he was able to give.  He had different dreams and a wanderlust heart.  He never intended to return home.  He never thought returning home would be just what he needed in his life.

As the story unfolds and the truth comes out, it will set Dan, Tom, and Lorraine free.  Their lives will take a different path.  A path that leads to happiness for them all.

This is the first book I have read by author Cheryl St. John.  I thoroughly enjoyed it and have high praise for the delivery for the writing.  The delivery was emotional as well as truthful.  She took the characters on a journey that involved the real realities in life.  This book did not come off as a happily ever romance that was easily fixed.  The characters had to face all the realities a situation like this would create.

I highly recommend this book!

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About Cheryl St. John

 
 
Cheryl is the author of more than fifty historical and


contemporary romances. Her stories have earned numerous


RITA nominations, Romantic Times awards and are


published in over a dozen languages. In describing her


stories of second chances and redemption, readers and


reviewers use words like, “emotional punch, hometown feel,


core values, believable characters and real life situations.”


With a 4.9 star rating on amazon, her bestselling non-fiction


book, Writing With Emotion, Tension & Conflict by Writers


Digest Books is available in print and digital.

Follow Cheryl St. John

 

Release Blitz + Excerpt: Dirty Talk by S. L. Scott

 

dirty talk release b

dirty talk now live

dirty talk cover use

Because first love deserves a second chance

Standalone Contemporary Romance.

When love gets messy, it’s not just the talk that’s dirty.

Dirty Talk by S.L. Scott is LIVE!

ONLY .99 for a very short time & FREE on Kindle Unlimited.

**Bonus book inside!**

****

Dirty Talk

Release Date : September 1, 2016

By S. L. Scott

Buy: Amazon / Amazon UK

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Synopsis

One month.

One movie.

One shot at a second chance.

I fell madly in love at first sight with Jane Lewis.

The girl with bright blue eyes, a pretty smile, and great ass owned my heart. I thought she was happy with the status quo, but ten years later, I foolishly let her go. Despite dating other women, no one compares to my first love. We are meant to be together, and I’m going to try my damnedest to convince her of that.

Luke Anders tricked me. The deal was sealed before I knew he was behind it.

We agreed to be just friends. Simple. Easy. But it’s not just the weather that’s hot in Texas. I was a fool to think I could resist him. He knows how to work his charms and those kissable lips, that great jaw, and biceps. We are here to work, but he has become downright distracting.

I’m strong. I can handle one month of his flirtatious sexual torture. But if I happen to fall in bed with that sexy bastard for a night, or three, does that make me weak? Asking for a friend, of course.

I guess I’m about to find out when love gets messy, it’s not just the talk that’s dirty.

**BONUS BOOK EDITION of Dirty Talk includes the full novel of Sweet Talk. “Sweet Talk is a fun, sexy, emotionally-rich second chance romance with a charm-your-panties-off hero.” ~ New York Times Bestselling Author, Violet Duke

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Excerpt

  • ~Luke Anders~
  • “What if I touched you right where you want to be touched?” I slide my hand up her thigh, inching her skirt up slowly. Her breath catches, the quiet gasp making me smile. “What if I touched you right where you pretend to be so protective? I know you. I know you like it dirty . . . maybe even a little rough.”
  • She finds her voice, though it’s affected, sexy. “A lot.”
  • “What is that?”
  • Clearing her throat, she says, “I like it rough. Really rough.”
  • The right side of my mouth curves up, my hand stalling just below the apex of her thighs when my phone buzzes. I release a sigh. Grabbing the phone from my pocket, I sit up and read the text: Let’s get the fuck out of here. I look back at the black-haired raven I’ve left squirming on the metal barstool next to me. I’d like to explore exactly how she likes it, but duty calls. Standing up suddenly, I grab my wallet and slap some bills down for the drinks.
  • “What are you doing?” she demands, desperation lacing her tone as her eyes go wide.
  • I tuck my wallet back into the inside pocket of my Vittori suit jacket and kiss her on the cheek. Since I’m there, I add with a wink, “I bet we’d be so fucking good together.” Straightening upright, I smirk. “My apologies. I hate to run, but unfortunately, I have a prior engagement I can’t get out of. Maybe we can pick this up another time. I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”
  • She huffs. “You’re a playboy bastard, Luke Anders,” rolls off her tongue in frustrated anger as she spins back to the bar.
  • I know. Not turning back, I nod. It’s not the first time I’ve been called a playboy or a bastard. Name-calling doesn’t bother me. Not getting laid tonight does.
  • Pushing open the exit door that leads to the alley, my asshole friends are waiting near the car they’ve pulled around.
  • The rusting red door slams shut, the click of the lock heard loudly behind me. The alley is quiet compared to the loud music that blares inside the club. “Fuckers.” With my arms out wide, I yell, “What the fuck? Where’s the fire? I was closing the deal.”
  • “We were saving you, man. Trust me on that.” My best friend is standing in front of the car with his arms crossed over his chest. Danny Weston is one of the best people I know, but right now, he’s pissing me the fuck off.
  • “Saving me from what?”
  • “Ask Blaise. He has firsthand knowledge.”
  • When I shoot an annoyed look in Blaise’s direction, he clams up. With hands up in surrender, he backs away toward the driver’s door. “I can’t help that the ladies love me.” Thus confirming he’s already hit that pretty kitty.
  • I walk to the passenger’s side of the car, punching Danny on the arm when I pass him. “Shit, man, just give me a heads-up next time. I wasted some of my best lines on her.”
  • Danny claims the front seat, so I duck into the back seat of a restored 1969 black Gran Torino. Cocky behind the wheel, Blaise takes off before we even have our seatbelts on, and says, “Stop hitting on everyone that takes pity on you then.”
  • “Fuck you. I can get any woman I want. No one’s taking pity on me.”
  • Danny breaks into the argument, “You guys really need to find a new hobby.”
  • “One-night stands are plenty entertaining,” Blaise retorts, smiling.
  • Danny puts his arm on the back of the seat and turns toward me. “I’m not going to lecture you—”
  • “Again,” I add.
  • “Again,” he repeats while rolling his eyes. “But we’ve talked about this a fuck ton of times. She’s not Jane and until you figure out what the hell is going on there, or if anything is going on there, these women are all the same—just another disappointment you’re going to have in the morning because they’re not her.”
  • Blaise verbally steps in, “Damn, dude, why so deep? You’re bringing me down.”
  • Danny laughs. I don’t. We’ve been friends for many years now, so Danny knows my game. He knows me well enough to know what I’m doing. Until I sort out this mess with the first woman I ever loved, the rest are just regrets waiting to happen, along with the regrets I can’t take back.
  • But I know him well too. We relate in a way that Blaise doesn’t understand, on a level that one day he’d be lucky to experience. No matter what I’ve been through with Jane, I’ve loved, hard. I know what it means to love and to be loved. I have no regrets when it comes to Jane, except one: letting her go.
  • luke by S.L. Scott

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sweet talk cover

Sweet Talk aka Models On Top- Danny is NOW AVAILABLE

***

Sweet Talk

Buy: Amazon / Amazon UK

Synopsis

Everything you’ve heard about modeling is true, and you haven’t heard the half of it.

 

It’s glamorous.

 

It’s sexy.

 

And yes, the line between work and reality often blurs.

 

We’re not just prototypes of perfection. Models have feelings and desires, too. We may be genetically gifted, but we’re still human.

 

I’m only human. Yes, an extraordinary specimen that earns more in a day than most make in a year, but this eight pack didn’t create itself. I spend hours working on this body. The good looks just come natural. *Winks* Thanks, Mom and Dad.

 

I’m Danny Weston, Supermodel.

 

But one path was traded for another when I chose this career. Ten years later, I would trade my career to have it back. To have her back.

 

Reese Carmichael is the one woman I would give it all up for, and the only one I can’t have. Yet.

 

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About S.L. Scott:

SLScott

New York Times and USA Bestselling Author, S. L. Scott, was always interested in the arts. She grew up painting, writing poetry and short stories, and willing her days away lost in a good book and the movies.

With a degree in Journalism, she continued her love of the written word by reading American authors like Salinger and Fitzgerald. She was intrigued by their flawed characters living in picture perfect worlds, but could still debate that the world those characters lived in were actually the flawed ones. This dynamic of leaving the reader invested in the words, inspired Scott to start writing with emotion while interjecting an underlying passion into her own stories.

 

Living in the capital of Texas with her family, Scott loves traveling and avocados, beaches, and cooking with her kids. She’s obsessed with epic romances and loves a good plot twist. She dreams of seeing one of her own books made into a movie one day as well as returning to Europe. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more toward the sky than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol of the pineapple and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she’s a pro.

Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads ~ Amazon

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