Whoohoo! The Goodreads links are up, finally, and I have a minute to post, finally. (32 hours at work in 3 days–I want naps for Chanukah gifts.)
Blood ends in a couple of days, Fall Down lasts a little longer, but run over to Goodreads and put your name in the hat!
Posted in Blood on the Mountain
Tagged Blood on the Mountain, Fall Down, giveaway, Goodreads
Good heavens, we just finished writing the blurb! And I just got an email saying “here’s your link on the Coming Soon page!”
That’s here at Dreamspinner (dances happily).
Here’s what Ginnifer and I came up with, plus a couple of opinions from Eden Winters and Amelia Gormley. Whaddaya think?
*********
Every night ski patrol Mark McAvoy relives the avalanche that took a life on his watch. Emotionally fragile and single by choice, he’s aghast at his friends’ taking charge of his social life. Hosting a potluck will at least provide him with a good meal.
Invited to the potluck on a whim, Allan Tengerdie catches Mark’s eye—and taste buds. This cuddly chef could be perfect for a lonely, too-thin skier; too bad Allan falls better than he skis. When Allan’s injured and frightened he’ll lose his catering company, he’s afraid to ask too much of a man he barely knows.
Mark wants to help but has his own problems. Was the avalanche a tragic accident or cold-blooded murder? His role in the inquiry leaves Mark in trouble at work, at the mercy of the law, and with too much time on his hands. If he clings tightly to Allan, will they be swept away together?
First edition published by Torquere Press (2010).
Bonus Story: Storm on the Mountain
A blizzard shuts down the ski resort, giving Mark a chance to show Allan he’s learned from his mistakes. Does he know Allan well enough now to say what’s in his heart?
*******
Well, I’m all excited (ya think?), and hope a couple of you nice folks want to find out what happened to Mark, who really needed his own story after the events of Snow on the Mountain.
From Fall Down the Mountain–Mark McAvoy, the ski patrol, is awake in the night when he’d really rather not be.
The building was quiet at two a.m., the hall lights almost too bright as I padded the length of the third floor to the central stairs; one flight down and then about halfway across the other wing of the building brought me to their door. Maybe this time I wouldn’t get punched.
Because I had to knock on that door. I needed to see for myself that the men who lived on the other side were alive and well, and then I might be able to sleep again. If not tonight, then some other night, but the need to see them both, to touch them and feel the warmth of life, pulled my hand up to the wood, and I knocked. Three soft raps on the door, and only then did I realize I had no idea what to say, how to explain being on their doorstep in the wee hours.
Find the rest at at Torquere, Amazon, or ARe.
Actually, all the neighbors knew first, since the windows were open and I shrieked at the top of my lungs, but I just got the word that Torquere wants Cross the Mountain! That acceptance letter feeling never gets old.
This is a follow-up story with Mark and Allan, the couple from Fall Down the Mountain. This time it’s told from Allan’s point of view, and should give a little more insight into his character. A pub date hasn’t been mentioned yet, but I’ll share that when I know.
**Dances**
No longer willing to be a vacation plaything, ski patrol Mark McAvoy longs for stability and love. But caught up in a grand jury investigation and suspended from his job, can Mark offer injured chef Allan Tengerdie more than help in the kitchen?
This little tidbit is a bit of follow-up to the novel, and was first seen on the Torquere social list, but it was too much fun to let slip into the ether.
****
“Mmm, seduction food.” Mark inhaled deeply over Allan’s shoulder, his face bathed in the steam from the pot. Chunks of chicken and vegetables released a savory fragrance as Allan stirred sour cream into the pungent orange sauce. “You must want the extra-special lovin’ tonight.” He slipped his arms around the chef’s middle and nuzzled his neck.
“Always.” Allan turned and kissed Mark’s forehead. “Toss the salad while I drain the noodles, okay?”
Mark feigned shock. “Now? In the kitchen? Before we eat?”
“With the tongs, you meshuggener.” Allan thumped the top of Mark’s head gently with the serving implement.
Mark laughed deep in his throat and didn’t let go. “Sounds kinky.”
“The green stuff.” Allan twisted in Mark’s embrace and put his arms over his lover’s shoulders. “In the bowl. Part of dinner.” He pulled Mark down enough to meet those wide, sensuous lips with his own.
“Damn, when you offered EF or FF, and I said ‘Both,’ I thought this was what you meant.” Warm hazel eyes danced with the joke.
“You can’t do both.” Allan slipped his tongue into Mark’s mouth, stroking softly, but Mark pulled back.
Reaching into the pot, Mark dipped his finger into the sauce, then drew a paprika-flavored line over Allan’s mouth. Slowly he cleaned it off, with nibbles and licks, making Allan pull closer against his lover’s body — tall, fit, and still too thin, though that was improving with every good meal. Again Mark dipped into the sauce and painted Allan’s lips.
“Are you absolutely sure?”
Sign up for the Rocky Ridge Books newsletter to keep track of Pam's news and tidbits. 
