Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Bewitching Blog Tour: Spotlight on Barbara Bretton's Crosse Harbor Time Travel Trilogy + #Giveaway


Meet Barbara:
Barbara Bretton is the USA Today bestselling, award-winning author of more than 40 books. She currently has over ten million copies in print around the world. Her works have been translated into twelve languages in over twenty countries.

Barbara has been featured in articles in The New York Times, USA Today, Wall Street Journal, Romantic Times, Cleveland Plain Dealer, Herald News, Home News, Somerset Gazette, among others, and has been interviewed by Independent Network News Television, appeared on the Susan Stamberg Show on NPR, and been featured in an interview with Charles Osgood of WCBS, among others.

Her awards include both Reviewer's Choice and Career Achievement Awards from Romantic Times; Gold and Silver certificates from Affaire de Coeur; the RWA Region 1 Golden Leaf; and several sales awards from Bookrak. Ms. Bretton was included in a recent edition of Contemporary Authors.

Barbara loves to spend as much time as possible in Maine with her husband, walking the rocky beaches and dreaming up plots for upcoming books.

Connect with Barbara: Author Site | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads




Historian Emilie Crosse dreamed of a love that would last forever

Who knew she'd have to sail across two centuries to find it?

When her ex-husband Zane Grey Rutledge showed up at her door with a Revolutionary War uniform that was part of his grandmother's estate, neither one suspected that their lives were about to change in ways they couldn't possibly imagine.

Swept back in time to 1776 where a nation is struggling to be born, Emilie finds herself torn between two men: Zane, her ex who still holds the key to her heart, and Andrew McVie, the Patriot hero of her long-ago dreams . . . .
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Crosse Harbor, New Jersey

At the moment her life changed forever, Emilie Crosse was balanced on a stepstool on her front porch, watering a flowering begonia plant that had seen better days. She was considering whether or not to put the poor thing out of its misery when the deep roar of a car engine brought her up short.
She wasn't expecting anyone. The most traffic her dead-end street usually saw was the appearance of the red-white-and-blue US mail jeep every morning and the jeep's engine sputtered rather than roared.
She climbed down from the ladder and, wiping her hands on the sides of her pants, glanced toward the street as the sound grew closer. A shiny black foreign car rounded the corner and she felt the kickstart of adrenaline hit her bloodstream. It didn't take an automotive genius to figure out you could run the Crosse Harbor school system on what the driver had paid for that sleek beauty.
It also didn't take a genius to figure out where the car was headed. She was the last house before you hit the water.
The car roared up her driveway as if it were the home stretch of the Indianapolis 500 and screeched to a stop aggressively close to her dumpy old Chevy.
She'd only known one person in her life who wouldn't be overshadowed by a car like that and she'd been crazy enough to marry him
The car door swung open and she pinched herself sharply on the inside of her arm then looked again. No doubt about it. Striding up the driveway was Zane Grey Rutledge, the Main Line Philly son with the Wild West name who had captured her heart back when she still believed in happy endings.
"Been a long time, Emilie," he said in a voice so rich with testosterone that it made her knees buckle. "You look great."
"You too," she said, shaking her head at the understatement. "So let me guess: you were in the neighborhood and decided to pop in and say hello.”
He smiled but the look in his eyes gave her pause. "I would've called but you're not listed."
"Emily Crosse Restorations. I'm in the book."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Is there something I can do for you?"
"You're not going to ask me in?"
"You're here for a reason, Zane, and it isn't to talk about old times." She sounded cool and collected. He'd never in a million years suspect the way her heart was thundering inside her chest in an approximation of flat-out, unadulterated, completely ridiculous joy. "What do you want?"
"Your professional opinion."
She barked a laugh that embarrassed her. "You're kidding."
He didn't look like he was kidding. To her surprise she caught a flash of vulnerability behind the movie-star smile and her defenses started to melt.
"I have a package in the car that I'd like you to look at," he said, shifting his weight to his left foot.
"Is this some kind of joke?"
"Trust me, Em, it's no joke."
"I'm pretty busy," she said, "but if you make an appointment I'd be happy to see what I can do."
"I can't. I'm leaving for Tahiti tomorrow morning."
Instantly her defenses started to regroup. He'd always been on the way to Tahiti or Aspen or the dark side of the moon.
And he'd always been able to turn her into a hopeless romantic with a soft spot for happily-ever-after endings that never came true.
"Then it can wait until you return."
He didn't hear a word she said. He was already halfway to his Porsche, his long legs eating up the ground with each stride. She watched, awash in a weird combination of appreciation and annoyance.Time had been unfairly kind to him. He cut a dashing figure in his tailored grey slacks and white shirt of silky Egyptian cotton. Broad shoulders. Narrow hips. Powerful legs.
Definitely the poster boy for pirate fantasies.
Too bad a good marriage required more than great sex and a well-worn passport.

Excerpt from Somewhere In Time ©2012 by Barbara Bretton. All rights reserved.


Timeless Lovers . . .

Different Worlds

Shannon Whitney didn't believe she had a future until Andrew McVie crash-lands his time-traveling hot-air balloon in her backyard one summer afternoon and changes her life forever.

He is a Revolutionary War patriot

She is an independent modern woman

Their paths should never have crossed but apparently fate has other plans.

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Book Extras: Read the rest of the excerpt
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Late August, 1776

Andrew McVie sat on the slope behind the lighthouse and waited. He wasn't certain what it was he waited for, but the need in him was so great it could not be denied.
He had awakened near Milltown before dawn that morning, as sharp of eye and clear of head as if he had slept a full night and more. The innkeeper, a good woman named Annie Willis with two sons serving under General Washington, had offered him fresh coffee and bread still warm from the ovens but he found himself unwilling to spend the time.
"A body cannot subsist on patriotism alone." She wrapped a loaf of bread in a clean white cloth then handed it to him. "Think of Mistress Willis when you sup and pray her boys come home to her again."
Patriotism. The very word that had filled his soul with fire not so many years ago held no meaning for him now. Indeed there were times when he felt as if he'd never known what it truly meant to sacrifice everything on the altar of Revolution.
They called him a hero. They said he risked his life to go where others feared to tread because he understood that the need of the Colonies far outweighed his own pitiful need for comfort. But they were wrong. All of them. Since he lost Elspeth and David he had been moving through the days both blind and deaf to anything but the pain inside his heart. It was easy to risk everything when you had nothing of value left to lose.
But now even his effectiveness as a spy had been taken from him.
He shifted position on the rock and rested his head in hands. His journey to Long Island to warn General Washington of a plot against his life had resulted in naught save embarrassment. Not only was General Washington not there but the soldiers he'd spoken with had looked at Andrew as if he was daft. "Surely you have spent too much time in the sun," one had laughed at Andrew's expense. "His Excellency is safely ensconced in Trenton now as we speak."
Later, he had sought solace in a tankard of ale but there was no solace to be found anywhere on God's green earth. The truth was plain as his own face in the glass each morning. His time was past. He could see that now. The torch had been passed while he dreamed, passed to men who were younger and stronger than Andrew. Men who were willing to fight the battles Andrew no longer understood.
A bitter laugh rose from the darkness of his soul. Indeed it would be better if he lay dead on the sandy soil of Long Island. He had nothing left to give, nothing left to offer, save a lifetime of regrets. Words he should have said, actions left untaken, the sad procession of mistakes made by a man who should have known better.
The ambitious young lawyer from Boston had been replaced by a patriot who no longer believed in the rebellion other men gave their life's blood to pursue.
None of it mattered any longer. He knew how it would all end. The Patriots would be victorious. The Crown would become an ally. The sun and the moon and stars would all remain in the heavens. And Andrew McVie would be alone.
He looked up at the lighthouse and shook his head at the absurdity of it all.
He'd never thought to set eyes upon the place again. Indeed he had no understanding how it was he'd come to this particular spot on the New Jersey shore when he had been traveling toward Princeton. All he knew was that the need to be here had overtaken him, driving reason from his brain. In truth he should be sitting at Rebekah Blakelee's table at this very moment, eating her fine food and considering how it was his life had amounted to so little.
He had neither wife nor child, no home where he could lay down his head and rest his weary heart. The loneliness he had accepted as his punishment ofttimes rose up from the depths of his soul and threatened to choke off the very air he breathed.
Other men had friends to share a summer's night or warm a cold winter's afternoon. Andrew had nothing but regrets and those regrets had grown sharp as a razor's edge these few weeks past, cutting him to the center of his being.
For a little while this summer he'd rediscovered his heart and believed that happiness could be possible for him in this lifetime.

Excerpt from Tomorrow And Always ©2012 by Barbara Bretton. All rights reserved.



It's not every day a woman goes traveling through time

Dakota Wylie is a wisecracking, unemployed, overweight psychic librarian from Princeton

Patrick Devane is an angry, hard-headed spy with a six-year-old daughter who hears voices

The only thing they have in common is New Jersey

But when Dakota leaps from the basket of a hot air balloon to help his crying child, little does she know that she's leaping into history . . . and love.

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Book Extras: Read the rest of the excerpt
Read an Excerpt:
It was said by the good people of Franklin Ridge, in the Colony of New Jersey, that Patrick Devane was the angriest man in four counties and on that December morning he did little to dispel the notion.
His housekeeper, Mrs. O'Gorman, dabbed at her rheumy eyes with a wrinkled handkerchief. "'Tain't my fault, sir," she said through loud sniffles. "The child's willful as her mother and there wouldn't be a thing I could do to stop her."
"The child is six years old," Patrick snapped. "She requires a firm hand and a watchful eye, two things you are unwilling or unable to provide."
Mrs. O'Gorman's expression shifted from lugubrious to sly. "And a child needs a father, if I may be so bold, and it seems to me you been one in name only."
"Enough!" His roar rattled the walls. "You'll be out of my house by nightfall."
"And I'll be thanking the Almighty for that," Mrs. O'Gorman said, thrusting her chins at him. "I'd rather be workin' for Fat George in London than spend another day in this terrible place."
"Take care, woman, or I'll see that you get your wish."
Mrs. O'Gorman, no longer concerned with employment, was a woman unleashed. "'Tain't my wish that's comin' true, mister. 'Tis yours. The child is gone--just the way you wanted it--and if she has the sense of a May fly, she won't be back here where she ain't wanted."
With that the woman stormed from the library.
He swore softly at her retreating back. He'd heard them whispering belowstairs. How his cold heart had driven his warm-blooded wife into the arms of another man. And they said the way he treated the child was cause for scandal, although he kept her clothed, fed, and sheltered as was his duty as a Christian man, and would see to her education, as well. More than that surely he could not be asked to provide.
"'Tisn't natural to treat your own flesh and blood this way," Mrs. O'Gorman had said to her cronies the other day when she thought he could not hear. "All that money and not an ounce of warmth in his black heart."
"My papa is the best man in the world," Abigail had declared, biting Mrs. O'Gorman in her plump forearm.
Mrs. O'Gorman had tried to shake her off but the child clung to her prey like a hound to a fox and it had taken three servants to finally pull her off.
"Poor little thing," Rosie, the scullery maid, had whispered loud enough to be heard in Trenton. "Him always treatin' her like a poor relation when it's his fault she's the way she is."
Abigail had rewarded the girl with a kick in the shins that had sent Rosie packing. If he did not put a stop to it, the child would drive every member of the staff from the house, nursing bite marks and bruises.
She loved him, the child did, and he felt the weight of her love with every breath he took. She was so like him, lashing out in her pain and confusion, but loyal in a way he knew he didn't deserve. How well he understood her. There were times he saw himself reflected back in the flash of defiance in her eyes and then he remembered. His heart wasn't the stone the townspeople believed it to be. How much easier this would be if it were. How often had he steeled his heart against the child in an attempt to make the inevitable parting easier for them both and how often had he failed.
This last series of tantrums had forced his hand and he was not ungrateful. Danger was everywhere in the town of Franklin Ridge and he needed to see to the child's safety before it was too late.
"This cannot go on, Abigail. Arrangements will be made for you to attend school in Boston." He had hoped to delay this action another half-year but in truth this was the safer course of action for the child's sake, if not for his.
"No!" Her gray eyes darkened like the sky before a storm. She had spirit, this child. He would grant her that. It would serve her well in the future since she had not been granted her mother's beauty. "You cannot make me!"

Excerpt from Destiny's Child ©2012 by Barbara Bretton. All rights reserved.


Barbara is giving away a digital audio copy of SOMEWHERE IN TIME. Here's how to enter:
  • Leave a comment for Barbara about your favorite time travel romances/authors. If you don't read time travel, would you pick one up?
  • Fill out the rafflecopter form below. You must leave a comment. All other entries are optional.
  • Please make sure you understand our giveaway policy before entering.
  • Giveaway ends June 17
Thanks to Barbara and Bewitching Blog Tours!

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