Family Love Release Blitz @beerwencha2 @RockStarPRLC

Family Love

By Liz Crowe

Love Brothers #4

Family Love

 

About the Book

A wealthy horse farmer’s rebellious daughter meets a sultry stable hand—but the result is far from the average tale of forbidden romance. When novelist Aiden Love publishes his parents’ story he has no idea the trauma it will cause.

The epic saga of one family’s turbulent beginning is entwined with the challenge of a mother’s relationship with her youngest child—the longed for only daughter, Angelique. But a secret Lindsay Halloran Love has kept for years could rip the tight-knit clan apart for good.

Resilient bonds of loyalty and blood are stretched to the breaking point, until tragedy strikes at the very heart and soul of the Love family, forcing everyone to take stock of what really matters.

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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26050668-family-love

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Amazon Kindle: http://amzn.to/1JqT9pO

Giveaway

$50 Gift Card to the etailer of your choice

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About the Author

Liz Crowe Author PhotoAmazon best-selling author, mom of three, Realtor, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.

Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction hybrid, “Romance. Worth the Risk,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”).

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.

Connect with the Author

Website: http://www.lizcrowe.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/beerwencha2
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lizcroweauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4350864.Liz_Crowe

 

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Special Sale Info!

Beginning 9/1-9/5: Love Garage and Coach Love are FREE!

Love Brewing is reduced to 99¢

Safe Love has always been 99¢

Family Love releases at $2.99

That’s the whole series for less than a 5-spot!

 

Other Books in this Series

Love Garage

Love Brothers #1

A Family Saga with humor, heat and heart–not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball!

Antony Love is the quintessential responsible oldest brother of a boisterous, Italian/Irish family, placed in charge at a young age by his parents who are busy running the family business. He manages his siblings with a fair but iron hand, until his life is shattered by personal tragedy leaving him the shell of the man he once was.

When outspoken matriarch Lindsay Halloran Love becomes ill, the youngest brother Aiden shows up at Antony’s garage, having dropped out of school (again), needing work and a place to crash. Antony provides both, with three caveats: “Don’t smoke in my truck, don’t be late for work, and don’t mess with my girlfriend.”

But Aiden Love, budding novelist, gets one glimpse of Rosalee Norris, young widow of Antony’s lifelong best friend and all bets are off.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22294474-love-garage

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1PXyXht

 

Family Love (2)

 

Safe Love: A Love Brothers Companion Novella

Love Brothers #1.5

Antony Ian Love has a lot on his ample shoulders. He owns and runs a small business, is estranged from his teenaged daughter AliceLynn, his beloved mother is dying of cancer, and he’s come face to face with his youngest brother Aiden’s sudden reappearance into the Love family circle. Years of sublimating his true self in deep mourning for his long dead wife have hardened the surly, emotional shell he’s nurtured, but one woman seems to have broken through. Rosalee Norris is the young widow of Antony’s best friend Paul and their mutual sorrow and close friendship has slowly morphed into something more.

Family therapist and recent divorcee Margot Hamilton is dropped into the close-knit Love family by necessity but fate has a real design twist in mind. With her heart and mind closed to anything resembling an emotional connection, Margot is shocked to discover something about Antony the very first time they meet–something she tries, and fails, to resist.

SAFE LOVE, The Love Brothers novella is a tale of love’s realistic complications within the saga of family devotion that runs as wide and deep as the Ohio River–except on Sundays when brothers Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations on the basketball court, Love brother style.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24780195-safe-love

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1hJTlaP

 

Family Love (2)

Coach Love

Love Brothers #2

A Family Saga with humor, heat and heart–not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball!

The smoldering intensity of first love ~ the forbidden fantasy of temptation ~ the cold hard facts of real life.

When one man’s hopes are dashed apart in a split second after years spent chasing a dream, he returns home to Kentucky furious at the world and everyone around him.

Kieran Francesco is the middle son of the volatile, tight-knit Halloran-Love family. His role as peacemaker and the one true athlete is well established. He now faces life devoid of the sport he adores after a horrific, career-ending accident, which places him in a new and entirely uncomfortable position: that of the brother with no future.

Over the course of a few tumultuous months Kieran is plunged back into life at the center of the Love family, where he must cope with one self-destructive brother, one ill-timed reconnection to an old flame and a series of bad choices that land him in more trouble than he’d ever known existed.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22877945-coach-love

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1JqXA3W

 

Family Love (2)

 

Love Brewing

Love Brothers #3

A Family Saga with humor, heat and heart–not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball!

Every family has one—the black sheep, the problem child, the prodigal. But Dominic Sean Love could teach all of those guys a lesson or two. Stuck in the middle of a boisterous group of siblings, he’s given “acting out” a new meaning from day one.

While he’s the one son who follows his strict father’s footsteps into the Love family business, he’s also the one who butts heads with him the hardest. Their epic clashes are the stuff of family legend. But they have made peace and work side by side to take Love Brewing to the next level of success.

Until Dominic does the one thing his father can never forgive.

Diana Brantley has been Dominic’s friend, girlfriend and ex-girlfriend so many times she’s lost count. When he shows up at the farm she’s slowly transforming into a wildly popular farm-to-table resource for restaurants all over the U.S. her first impulse is to shoot first and ask questions later. But she doesn’t. And their lives entwine once more, for good, bad and ugly.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23344944-love-brewing

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1PXzBLY

The Love Brothers Book Blitz

love brewing book blitz

Book Blitz

Love Brewing

by Liz Crowe

LizCrowe3_b-FJM_High_Res_1800x2700

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Safe Love

by Liz Crowe

LizCrowe5

Genre: Contemporary Romance (novella)
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Book Blurb

LizCrowe3_b-FJM_High_Res_1800x2700LOVE BREWING

Every family has one—the black sheep, the problem child, the prodigal. But Dominic Sean Love could teach all of those guys a lesson or two. Stuck in the middle of a boisterous group of siblings, he’s given “acting out” a new meaning from the day he drew his first breath.

While he’s the one son who follows his strict father’s footsteps into the Love family business, he’s also the one who butts heads with him the hardest. Their epic clashes are the stuff of family legend. But they have made peace and work side by side to take Love Brewing to the next level of success.

Until Dominic does the one thing his father can never forgive.

Diana Brantley has been Dominic’s friend, girlfriend and ex-girlfriend so many times she’s lost count. When he shows up at the farm she’s slowly transforming into a wildly popular farm-to-table resource for restaurants all over the U.S. her first impulse is to shoot first and ask questions later. But she doesn’t. And their lives entwine once more, for good, bad and ugly.


LizCrowe5SAFE LOVE: A Love Brothers Companion Novella

Antony Ian Love has a lot on his ample shoulders. He owns and runs a small business, is estranged from his teenaged daughter AliceLynn, his beloved mother is dying of cancer, and he’s come face to face with his youngest brother Aiden’s sudden reappearance into the Love family circle. Years of sublimating his true self in deep mourning for his long dead wife have hardened the surly, emotional shell he’s nurtured, but one woman seems to have broken through. Rosalee Norris is the young widow of Antony’s best friend Paul and their mutual sorrow and close friendship has slowly morphed into something more.

Family therapist and recent divorcee Margot Hamilton is dropped into the close-knit Love family by necessity but fate has a real design twist in mind. With her heart and mind closed to anything resembling an emotional connection, Margot is shocked to discover something about Antony the very first time they meet–something she tries, and fails, to resist.

SAFE LOVE, The Love Brothers novella is a tale of love’s realistic complications within the saga of family devotion that runs as wide and deep as the Ohio River–except on Sundays when brothers Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations on the basketball court, Love brother style.

excerpt

EXCLUSIVE SNEAK PEEK!
LizCrowe3_b-FJM_High_Res_1800x2700Love Brewing – Chapter 1

Diana patted Pepper’s flank as she released him into the paddock then leaned against the barn door, relishing the soreness in her muscles. The sun burned a white hole in the light-blue late summer sky. Smells of her childhood filled her nose, smoothing her edges.

A bit of coolness in the air, heralding the coming seasonal transition sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Masie, the pregnant cow, uttered a low moo, snapping Diana out of daydreaming about her favorite season—the hunting kind. It brought her long to-do list flashing across her brain, reminding her she still had to finish mucking out the rest of the barn. The garden was in desperate need of weeding, too. The last of her tomatoes were due in and her sister had already sent three texts that morning about the chicken salad Diana still had to make and get over to the shop.

With a heavy sigh, she let the light wind cool her skin. Her arms burned and her thighs shook in a wholly welcome, familiar way, post long ride. She dropped onto the overturned bucket from the horse’s cool-and-wash.

“Go on, get out there, ya big baby.”

She smiled when the huge animal nuzzled her shoulder before he trotted away obediently, sticking his nose into the water trough, tail flicking lazily, indicating satisfaction with the morning’s proceedings. Bees buzzed, the cow made another lowing sound, late season locusts hummed, and the sun heated her skin. Drifting, her mind calm and free of Jen’s endless demands and catering menus she let the sweet sounds and distinct odors of her family’s farm soothe her.

When the horse whinnied and snorted, Diana ignored it and stretched her legs out. One of the dogs let out a loud bark then the other two joined in. They sounded delighted, so Diana figured that her sister must have arrived in the catering van to pick up the chicken salad—the one Diana hadn’t even started yet.

Deciding to pretend she was alone a minute longer and enjoy the peace and quiet she always found in the barn, Diana closed her eyes.

“Hey.” A distressingly familiar male voice hit her ears. “Um…Diana?”

She blew out a breath, unwilling to acknowledge how much she would have given at one point in her life to hear that voice say her name again.

“What do you want?”

“Just a place to crash. Hide a bit, I don’t know.”

“Why now? I thought you and your folks were gettin’ on like a house afire.” She tried to keep the anger out of her words, but it was nearly impossible.

“Diana. Please.”

She opened her eyes and observed the man she’d loved as long as she could recall. Dominic Love stood in front of her dressed in, of all things, a pair of dress pants and crumpled, long-sleeved shirt. A red tie hung loose around his neck. He had his blond hair scraped back and tied at his nape so she could see he’d added more body art. He stood still, hands tucked in his trouser pockets, his expression scarily blank.

She rose and smacked the dust off her ass then stood, arms crossed, willing him not to be there, not to tempt her, because God help her still loved the man, despite how badly he’d treated her.

“I am not letting you back in my bed, Dom.”

When the corner of his full lips lifted in a smirk, she imagined how satisfying it would feel to smack it off his face—with a blunt instrument.

“Not asking for that…yet.”

“Go to hell.” She brushed by him, forcing him out of her brain. He snagged her arm and held on tight.

“I’m already there, babe, trust me. I swear I just need a friend right now and someplace to lay low. I’ll help around the place, you know that.”

As if on cue, the horse bumped Dom’s shoulder, shoving the man forward. The grip on her arm tightened and Dom leaned in close. She yanked away from him, keeping her gaze on the far horizon and her mind on the fact that if she went with her gut right then, she’d pull him back into her life, no questions asked.

“You can sleep out here.”

He let go. “Thanks, babe.”

She clenched her jaw. “Stop calling me babe, you shit-heel, motherfucking, selfish, cheating asshole.”

“Okay,” he muttered, but his eyes were bright in a way she knew well.

She walked away, letting the memory of their last, and she believed final, fight fill her mind, fueling her fury as she put one boot in front of the other, placing as much distance as she could between them.

The dogs circled her legs, escorting her en masse to the door. It slammed, cutting off their nervous whines and snuffling, leaving her standing in the middle of her outdated, overworked kitchen. Usually being in this room helped her forget all the crap going on in the real world while she transformed the various vegetables from her large garden and the meats she’d either hunted or raised herself into meals fit for a five-star restaurant.

She shook her head. There were no five-star-restaurants in her universe and there never had been. Even thinking those three words in that order caused heat to rise up her neck and into her face at the memory of her ex-husband—the man who’d swooped in right after Dominic’s last rejection of her and convinced her that he would open the restaurant of her dreams, using the inheritance money she’d saved.

Yeah, that had worked out not-so-well.

Men.

Stupid, lying, cheating men.

Stupid me and my stupid need to have one nearby all the stupid time.

Her hand landed on something substantial and her fingers curled around it. She picked up the cast iron pan slowly, contemplating it for a split second, recalling she’d left it out to use for frying bacon. With a noise between a grunt and a yell, she put every bit of long-forgotten frustration into the effort to fling the pan at the door. At the last second she worried she might hit one of the dogs.

But there was no canine yip of pain. They’d vacated her immediate area, likely sensing the temper eruption on her horizon before she did. It did bust a satisfying hole through the screen at the top of the door and hit the back porch railing with a musical clang that echoed back to her still burning ears.

She blew her hair out of her eyes, ready to tackle the next thing on her long to-do list—this time free of any memory of her last disaster of a relationship. That loser—now officially her ex-husband—had been floating through, setting up some chain restaurant over in Lexington. Memories of his handsome face and lying mouth rolled through her head even as she tried to halt them.

A real five-star restaurant, Di, he’d liked to say, usually when they were naked. That and, You should try it, and, I could use thirty thousand of your dollars to make it work, plus, let’s get married!

And they were naked a lot.

Diana groaned and leaned over the sink for a few seconds then straightened. She had too much to do. There was no time for that kind of useless reminiscing. Damn Dominic Love to hell and back for showing up and sending her into this tailspin.

She grabbed her mother’s soup pot, slammed it into the sink and starting filling it from the leaky tap. A breeze lifted the lace curtains at the window, stirring the hair around her face. She smelled the rain a few seconds before it let loose, pounding onto the grass between the kitchen window and the barn. Squinting through the sheeting water she spotted Dominic standing in the middle of the paddock, seemingly impervious to the deluge.

Pepper trotted over to see what could possibly make the tall, yellow-haired male human stand in the rain like an idiot. When Dom didn’t respond to nudging, the animal gave every appearance of shrugging and glancing in her direction with a whattayagonnado look before getting under cover in the barn.

Within a very few minutes, Dom’s drenched dress shirt clung to him. She watched, gape-jawed and shivering as he yanked his hair from its tie and shook it free, turning his face to take the full force of the increasing downpour, arms outstretched as if preparing for crucifixion. Then he seemed to disappear in the space of a blink. She turned off the tap, which was overflowing the pot by then anyway, and ran out the door.

Heart pounding, ears ringing with well-remembered panic over what she might find, she took the expanse of grass between house and paddock in a few long strides. In her fury at how casually he’d sauntered back into her life that morning, she hadn’t thought to study his eyes very closely. Diana had memorized long ago how Dominic’s deep-brown gaze took a particular edge, a kind of sharp, distinctive sparkle, when he hovered on the verge of a breakdown.

The rain soaked all the way to her skin by the time she rounded the post at the paddock. At a burst of lightening, she flinched and started counting, only getting to three seconds before the ear-splitting thunderclap. She squinted, seeking a prone, muddy Dominic. But the paddock was empty.

Cursing, she glanced back at the house. It was pretty well futile to run back now that she’d gotten drenched. She mirrored Dom’s earlier stance, letting the rain pound against her cheeks, forehead, and lips. Lightning flashed. Thunder followed. Laughter bubbled up from her throat, only getting louder as she realized what an utter whack job she must be, out there, cackling and drinking rain.


 

LizCrowe5SAFE LOVE: A Love Brothers Companion Novella

“I’m going to try a little experiment with you.” She came around the side of the desk and headed to him, just as he jumped to his feet. “Sit down, Antony,” she said, using her best ‘take no shit’ voice as she invaded his personal space with the blindfold in one hand. “It will be all right, I promise.”

He shook his head but sat, leaving her standing over him, which gave her a shiver of anticipation that she promptly quelled. His strong arms hung loose at his sides, his jeans clad legs sprawled out, too long for the chair. She stood behind him and placed the black silk blindfold over his eyes. After tying it in a way she knew would be nearly impossible to release, she placed her palms on his broad shoulders. As she had hoped, his thrumming, nervous energy calmed under her touch.

Too easy, she thought.

Not good, she also thought, tamping down the extreme urge to lean over him and lick her way up his neck.

Instead, she spoke into the air over his head. “Now, tell me one thing you miss about Crystal.”

“Uh…” he said, clenching and unclenching his fingers. “It’s…um… been such a long time and I…”

“One thing Antony, quick, without thinking too hard.”

He took a long, shuddering breath. “Her lips.”

“Okay, now another thing.” She kept her hands pressed on his shoulders, willing him to be calm and to open up to her.

“Her ass,” he ground out. She smiled.

“Now we’re getting somewhere. One more thing please.”

“Her…” He sucked in a breath. “The way she’d be in charge.”

“Hmm…” Margot said, willing herself to stay put, to not place herself in front of him and do what she really wanted. “And what do you mean by that? She balanced the checkbook?”

“No,” he whispered.

“Okay then. Where was she in charge?” She caught herself even as she said it, implying that Antony’s wife had been “in charge” in a specific place. It cut to the chase, so why not?

“I’m, um…not really comfortable with this.” His leg was jittering up and down as tension rose in him again. Margot took a deep breath, cursing her body for betraying her. She squared her shoulders.

“I know. That’s why we’re not looking at each other.” Unable to stop herself, she leaned down and put her lips near his ear, sucking in a huge breath of leather, a hint of smoke, cotton and a clean, soapiness that made her want to weep. “It’s all right. I’m in charge in this room so you can just…relax.”

She saw him grit his teeth and knew he was trying hard to do the exact opposite of what she was telling him to, so she tightened her grip on his shoulders, not an easy feat considering how firm they were. A point had to be made and she knew her options for making it were limited, since she’d promised herself that this would be nothing more than a therapy method.

“The bedroom,” he said, so low she barely heard him. “Crystal was in charge in our bedroom, in private. It was…something we…liked.” Margot straightened, smiling but shaking at the same time, even more confused about how to proceed. Keeping her hands on him, knowing he required at least that much from her, she got herself under some modicum of control and plowed forward.

“How was she in charge?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you know,” he said, surprising her with the sudden strength in his voice. “And I’m also pretty sure I’ve told you enough.” He jumped up, ripped off her un-rip-able blindfold, sending it fluttering to the floor in two strips of black fabric and kicked the chair out of the way. She stumbled, blinking fast, brain spinning and body going into overdrive at the look on his face. He was begging her now, using his unconscious body language, but she could not—she would not—give into the urge to shove him to his knees.

Her butt hit the bookshelf, making her stumble and curse. Antony stopped, looming over her and sending out the sort of obvious vibe she’d spent years coming to terms with and assuming she understood—until recently.

“Step away from me,” she said. “This isn’t what you think.”

He frowned and got even closer, pissing her off and making her inner self rise up and take over. She put her hands on his impossibly firm chest and shoved, forcing him to move out of her personal space so she could breathe and process how quickly she’d lost control of the situation. Typical, she thought with a shudder of disgust. No wonder Gavin left you. You’ve gotten weak.

Antony bent down and picked up the pieces of the blindfold. When he held them in his outstretched hands, his expression did nothing to dispel her dismay. “Sorry about this,” he said.

She grabbed them, her heart pounding way too fast. “Get out,” she whispered. “Just go. I’m sorry. I can’t…do this.”

“You’re the only one I’ve ever told…about Crystal and me and what we…you know, liked.”

She willed away the girlie tears. “I know,” she said. “It’s not something you’d share with your brothers.”

Antony chuckled and ran a hand around the back of his neck, breaking the tension in the room enough for her to breathe again. “I, um, I’m engaged. And I love her, Rosie, and her boy.” He dropped his gaze to the carpet. Without thinking, Margot tilted his face up, ignoring that strange electrical charge that snapped between them. “It took me nearly four years to even kiss her, Rosie. And we only just… um…” A charming blush rose from his neck to his face, making Margot faint with lust. “I don’t know why in the hell I’m telling you this.”

Book Trailer

Meet the Author

bw at festAmazon best-selling author, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.

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The Love Brothers Launch Day

 

Happy Release Day of Liz Crowe’s newest series

The Love Brothers:

Love Garage, Coach Love, Love Brewing,

and Family Love

DIVIDER

Antony Love is the quintessential responsible oldest brother of a boisterous, Italian/Irish family, placed in charge at a young age by his parents who are busy running the family business. He manages his siblings with a fair but iron hand, until his life is shattered by personal tragedy leaving him the shell of the man he once was.

When outspoken matriarch Lindsay Halloran Love becomes ill, the youngest brother Aiden shows up at Antony’s garage, having dropped out of school (again), needing work and a place to crash. Antony provides both, with three caveats: “Don’t smoke in my truck, don’t be late for work, and don’t mess with my girlfriend.”

But Aiden Love, budding novelist, gets one glimpse of Rosalee Norris, young widow of Antony’s lifelong best friend and all bets are off.

Set in horse country near Lexington, Kentucky, The Love Brothers Series is a saga of family devotion that runs as wide and deep as the Ohio River–except on Sundays when brothers Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations on the basketball court, Love brother style.

The Love Brothers: A family saga with humor, heat and heart—not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball

Excerpt

from Love Garage

Love Garage opened bright and early the next morning, a Saturday, a day Aiden had hoped to spend recovering.

“I get so many oil changes and random small jobs on Saturdays, it doesn’t make sense to be closed and let the jackasses with the Quickilube at Walmart get the business,” Antony insisted when Aiden groaned with dismay upon being awakened after two hours of drunken sleep. It didn’t help that the awakening occurred at the business end of a thrown pillow. “Get up, Romeo. You owe me rent money.”

He did, slowly, queasily hitting a shower, sore all over, his skin mottled from bug bites. But nothing topped the glorious agony of a bourbon hangover like the one that had him firmly in its evil grasp.

He slouched out the door, cursing Antony, cursing Tricia, cursing her ex-husband for throwing her in his path last night. But mostly cursing his own weak-ass uselessness. He rested his head against the cool comfort of the truck window until Antony hit a bump or two, which sent extra pain jolting down his spine.

“Sorry,” his brother muttered, glancing over at him.

“No, you’re not.”

“Got me there. And you’d better warn me if you’re about to toss your cookies. I won’t have that in my vehicle, got me?”

Aiden rubbed his neck and nodded, swallowing the urge to throw up all over the pristine interior on principal. “Why d’you hate me so much? You used to like me.” He stared over at his brother, heart thumping, ears humming, throat closing up with nausea. He despised waking up still drunk.

“I don’t hate you.” Antony turned onto the main road headed into town.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a real asshole anymore. Worse than Dom.”

Antony merely shrugged, not rising to that tried-and-true bait. So they spent the rest of the ride to the garage in silence. Once there, Antony sat gripping the wheel. Aiden waited, hoping he’d get something out of him—something he would assure him that the man he thought he remembered as the protective, funny, and loving guy he’d grown up with still existed inside the guy walking around wearing Antony’s skin.

Finally, he let go of the wheel, exhaled, and squared his shoulders as if prepping for battle. Aiden made a mental note to talk to Kieran about how badly Antony had descended into his life of non-stop mourning and jerk-hood.

“So, Rosalee, not putting out for you or what? You need to get laid maybe? Knock the edge off?”

The glare Aiden got for saying those particular words did make him worry Antony might punch his aching head through the passenger-side window.

He clenched his jaw in the way Aiden remembered from their childhood. “That is so far outside the realm of your business as to be in another galaxy. Get to work and don’t say her name to me again.”

And with that, Aiden was left with the fleeting thought that mentioning Rosalee directly was probably not a good idea. He surely didn’t need Antony to guess that her name was on his lips, or front and center of his mind.

He shook his head—a Bad Plan because it summoned the pounding agony back with a vengeance. Groaning, he climbed out and shuffled over to the door.

A new day began at Love Garage.

Purchase Link

Amazon

DIVIDER

The smoldering intensity of first love ~ the forbidden fantasy of temptation ~ the cold hard facts of real life.

When one man’s hopes are dashed apart in a split second after years spent chasing a dream, he returns home to Kentucky furious at the world and everyone around him.

Kieran Francesco is the middle son of the volatile, tight-knit Halloran-Love family. His role as peacemaker and the one true athlete is well established. He now faces life devoid of the sport he adores after a horrific, career-ending accident, which places him in a new and entirely uncomfortable position—that of the brother with no future.

Over the course of a few tumultuous months Kieran is plunged back into life at the center of the Love family, where he must cope with one self-destructive brother, one ill-timed reconnection to an old flame and a series of bad choices that land him in more trouble than he’d ever known existed.

COACH LOVE, book 2 of The Love Brothers, a family saga of sibling loyalty that runs as deep and wide as the Ohio River—at least until Sunday, when Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations at the weekly Love brother pick-up basketball game.

Excerpt

from Coach Love

As he drove the twenty or so miles from his parents’ house into town Kieran’s head began to clear. The windows were down and the tunes cranked. The sun shone. Signs of summer–one of his favorite seasons–were all around him. Parks packed with families, all the basketball courts and swimming pools overflowing. The sight of a gaggle of boys on bikes riding alongside him for a while, singing along with whatever random, crappy rap song currently polluted the airwaves made him smile.

“Hey, it’s Kieran Love!” one of the punks shouted after a few blocks. “Can you come over and shoot a few with us?”

He waved and drove on, gratified but sad, the sound of their cheerful unhappiness at his refusal filling his ears, taking the stretch of four lane road at seventy miles an hour, pressing the gas pedal to the floor, the throaty, powerful roar of the car’s engine revving him from head to toe.

It would be all right because he and Melinda loved each other. They had from the moment they’d met. He passed some grandpa in a Toyota, as the deep green fields surrounded by picturesque white fences and dotted with horses filled both sides of his vision.

He’d been home and recuperating from radical knee surgery with the best prognosis he could hope for after such a nasty break–to walk normally, much less play the occasional pick up game. His depression had been deep, wide, and terrifying. He woke every day at his parents’ house, unwilling even to get out of bed, not that he could without help for the first few weeks.

Antony had tossed a laptop computer at him one day when he’d been sulking, unshaven, and eating an entire bag of potato chips, something he’d not done since the age of ten when his fate–bound for basketball fame and fortune–had been determined.

“Here, find a job, find a date, find something,” he’d said before yanking the empty chip bag away and smacking Kieran’s head hard enough to make his ears ring.

“Ow. Leave me alone, asshole. I’m grievously injured,” he’d said, not caring about the swear-free zone he inhabited.

“That’s three dollars young man,” his mother had called out from the kitchen.

“You live with this, jerk, and see how you feel about finding ‘a date.’“ He’d hooked his fingers around the words, heart in his throat at how badly he’d wanted to call Cara right then.

But by the next weekend he was caning and limping his way toward the door to some faux-fancy Italian restaurant in Lexington, rubbing his freshly shaved face and trying not to sweat through his dress shirt. The woman from the internet site sat at the bar, twirling an olive-laden swizzle stick in her martini glass, long, slim, bare legs crossed, feet encased in sky-high patent leather heels. He’d exhaled, beyond relived that he’d not been cat-fished by some troll, or worse, a dude.

He’d hesitated then, something in him telling him to turn around and leave, fast. But at that moment, she’d flashed him the whitest, most perfect smile he’d ever seen and he’d been hooked. He still didn’t know how. They’d gone out for three weeks before she let him kiss her. It’d been another three weeks before he got anywhere near her tits. It had been a solid four months before he scored but that encounter had been, in a word, epic.

Melinda liked to talk dirty, wear heels and a garter belt while he fucked her. Loved doing it with all the lights on and in semi-public places. She gave head like a pro at first, before he’d given her an engagement ring.

Her bitchiness had come across as extreme decisiveness, sort of hot in way, he’d admit, since he tended toward the spontaneous and unplanned–”wishy washy” as he now understood it thanks to Melinda’s re-categorization of his personality. Her tight grip on her emotions and her surroundings, the OCD way she ordered her life did grate on him at times but he figured she tolerated his innate sloppiness and willingness to wake on a Sunday without a plan in place for the rest of the day. When he realized he sat across from her at some overpriced, hipster restaurant near her office after going out with her for eight months, ready to present her with a ring he could barely afford, it had shocked him without seeming to even faze her.

“Well, of course I’ll marry you, but you’ve got to find a better job,” she’d drawled as she sipped her champagne.

“A new job?” He’d gotten the teaching gig at his old high school and couldn’t imagine any job he’d want or like better. She made six figures for Christ’s sake, at least he thought she did.

Elated, drunk with lust and achievement, he’d tried to get his long legs adjusted under the small table jammed between all the others and covered with small plates of “tapas” which, best he could tell were “appetizers” only twice the price and half the helpings.

“I’ll do anything you want, Melinda. You saved me, honest to God you did.”

She’d fluttered her inky black lashes and gazed at him with an expression that convinced him he’d made the drastic move for the right reasons. The following year had been a combination of frustration, anger and high school level blue balls. The double drama Antony and Aiden had foisted on the Love family during that time hadn’t helped but it had distracted him. He’d taught his classes, helped out with the basketball team pro bono without telling Melinda and had been happier than he’d ever been as a pro athlete.

The fact that she maintained her uber-bitch persona around his family killed him. But he was hooked.

Still.

Mostly.

Purchase Link

Amazon

DIVIDER

Every family has one—the black sheep, the problem child, the prodigal. But Dominic Sean Love could teach all of those guys a lesson or two. Stuck in the middle of a boisterous group of siblings, he’s given “acting out” a new meaning from the day he drew his first breath.

While he’s the one son who follows his strict father’s footsteps into the Love family business, he’s also the one who butts heads with him the hardest. Their epic clashes are the stuff of family legend. But they have made peace and work side by side to take Love Brewing to the next level of success.

Until Dominic does the one thing his father can never forgive.

Diana Brantley has been Dominic’s friend, girlfriend and ex-girlfriend so many times she’s lost count. When he shows up at the farm she’s slowly transforming into a wildly popular farm-to-table resource for restaurants all over the U.S. her first impulse is to shoot first and ask questions later. But she doesn’t. And their lives entwine once more, for good, bad and ugly.

Excerpt

Enjoy a pre-edited excerpt from Love Brewing

Dominic would give anything be able to talk to Kieran. They’d gotten close in the last months since he’d required a rather alarming rescue from a jail down in Georgia and his brother had shown up, very few questions asked. But no, Kieran had his own issues and likely at that very moment was busy trying to convince his high school girlfriend to marry him, even as she stood dressed and ready to marry someone else.

He had to squeeze his eyes tight shut to banish images of Kent for the zillionth time.

“You need dry clothes,” Diana said, interrupting his pity party.

He shrugged and kept his gaze fixed on the view of rain. “Your garden looks like shit. When’s the last time you bothered to pull weeds?”

She snorted. He smiled. He used to love it when she’d do that. He’d honestly had no intention of showing up here today. The Brantley farm remained way off the beaten track, if the track around Lucasville could be considered “beaten” in any way. When he’d raced out of the stifling hot sanctuary and hotwired Kieran’s car he’d driven off without a single thought in his addled head other than “escape.”

But when he’d finally released his death grip on the steering wheel he’d looked through the windshield and found himself facing the old two-story farmhouse where he’d lost his virginity—not to Diana but to her sister Jen, an older version of the girl he’d been hanging around with since God was a boy. The whooshing sound that had deafened him for the last couple of days had receded ever so slightly at the sight of the place.

He’d not been anywhere near it in over six years, ever since he’d run out here to find Diana when Gina had bolted for New York. Her reaction to his surprise visit had been decidedly less hostile then. He groaned and ran a hand down his wet face.

No one to blame but yourself for this reception, numb nuts.

As if on cue, the dog whined and bumped his leg with its huge muzzle.

“Bossy bitch,” he said softly, giving her another scratch behind the ears. The animal gazed at him adoringly. Yeah, dogs always did love him. He glanced up and caught sight of Diana tugging on a shirt that looked way too big for her. The sight of it sent a thrill of something he didn’t want to acknowledge as jealousy down his spine.

You have less than no place being jealous of anything about her, he reminded himself. She stared at him as she buttoned up the light blue, obviously man-sized shirt. He had to restrain himself from blinking too fast at the onrushing memories that threatened to mow him down.

“Put on a few pounds eh Di?” he said, leaning back against the rough barn wall. The dog practically crawled up onto the hay bale and laid its head in his lap. Damn thing weighed over eighty pounds and smelled like rancid pond water, but he didn’t stop it.

“Fuck you,” she said, turning away and giving him a lovely view of the backs of her slim, tanned legs. “Come up to the house and get some dry clothes on, you dumbass.” She stood there, wearing that shirt that made his chest hurt, pondering where it had come from, her legs bare and beautiful. It made him want to weep. He set his jaw and turned away from her.

“I missed you and your ladylike ways,” he said, almost absently, as he turned back to study the rain that pounded the window. “Ow!” The towel pop flicked his neck, then his thigh. “Damn girl, you on your period or what?” He rubbed his leg and noted that he was, indeed, soaked through and could use a change of clothes. Too bad he hadn’t thought of that when he ran away from what remained of his former life.

“I can feel your crybaby BS from clear across this barn,” she said.

He turned fast, angry at her words. But her gaze comforted him. And suddenly, he realized why he’d found himself here, on what could be labeled as the worst day of his sorry-ass thirty years.

“How’d marriage work out for ya,” he said, shoving the dog off his lap and getting to his feet.

“How d’you think? I mean, I’m sure it was the talk of the town.” She kept staring at him, not moving. For a split second, Dom found himself headed toward her, needing to feel her skin, taste her lips. But he stood, keeping the four or so feet between them, the dogs milling around their ankles making worried noises. An errant drop of water fell from a lock of hair over his eyes. The moment felt fraught and he cursed himself for causing her pain, again. And again.

“Well, I guess the guy was lucky to escape with his balls intact,” he said, finally. “You’re still as ugly as homemade sin,” he lied.
The corner of her lips lifted. He let himself exhale.

It was on now. And he knew she’d let him stay here as long as he needed.

DIVIDER

COMING LATE SUMMER 2015!!



About the Author

Amazon best-selling author, beer blogger and beer marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe lives Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.

Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

Connect with the Author

Website: Blog:www.BrewingPassion.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/lizcroweauthor

Facebook Group: www.facebook.com/groups/lizcrowefans

Twitter: www.twitter.com/beerwencha2

Beer Wench Blog: www.a2beerwench.com

Amazon Author Page: www.amazon.com/Liz-Crowe/e/B00573TC7M

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Love Garage and Coach Love Release Day

Love Release Day

The Love Brothers:

A family saga with humor, heat and heart —

not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball!

About the Books

 

Book Title: Love Garage
Author: Liz Crowe

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Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 5, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Synopsis

 

 

 

Antony Love is the quintessential responsible oldest brother of a boisterous, Italian/Irish family, placed in charge at a young age by his parents who are busy running the family business. He manages his siblings with a fair but iron hand, until his life is shattered by personal tragedy leaving him the shell of the man he once was.

When outspoken matriarch Lindsay Halloran Lovefalls ill, the youngest brother Aiden shows up at Antony’s garage, having dropped out of school (again), needing work and a place to crash. Antony provides both, with three caveats: “Don’t smoke in my truck, don’t be late for work, and don’t mess with my girlfriend.”

But Aiden Love, budding novelist, gets oneglimpse of Rosalee Norris, young widow of Antony’s lifelong best friend and all bets are off.

Set in horse country near Lexington, Kentucky, The Love Brothers Series is a saga of family devotion that runs as wide and deep as the Ohio River–except on Sundays when brothers Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations on the basketball court, Love brother style.

Excerpt

Love Garage opened bright and early the next morning, a Saturday, a day Aiden had hoped to spend recovering.

“I get so many oil changes and random small jobs on Saturdays, it doesn’t make sense to be closed and let the jackasses with the Quickilube at Walmart get the business,” Antony insisted when Aiden groaned with dismay upon being awakened after two hours of drunken sleep. It didn’t help that the awakening occurred at the business end of a thrown pillow. “Get up, Romeo. You owe me rent money.”

He did, slowly, queasily hitting a shower, sore all over, his skin mottled from bug bites. But nothing topped the glorious agony of a bourbon hangover like the one that had him firmly in its evil grasp.

He slouched out the door, cursing Antony, cursing Tricia, cursing her ex-husband for throwing her in his path last night. But mostly cursing his own weak-ass uselessness. He rested his head against the cool comfort of the truck window until Antony hit a bump or two, which sent extra pain jolting down his spine.

“Sorry,” his brother muttered, glancing over at him.

“No, you’re not.”

“Got me there. And you’d better warn me if you’re about to toss your cookies. I won’t have that in my vehicle, got me?”

Aiden rubbed his neck and nodded, swallowing the urge to throw up all over the pristine interior on principal. “Why d’you hate me so much? You used to like me.” He stared over at his brother, heart thumping, ears humming, throat closing up with nausea. He despised waking up still drunk.

“I don’t hate you.” Antony turned onto the main road headed into town.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a real asshole anymore. Worse than Dom.”

Antony merely shrugged, not rising to that tried-and-true bait. So they spent the rest of the ride to the garage in silence. Once there, Antony sat gripping the wheel. Aiden waited, hoping he’d get something out of him—something he would assure him that the man he thought he remembered as the protective, funny, and loving guy he’d grown up with still existed inside the guy walking around wearing Antony’s skin.

Finally, he let go of the wheel, exhaled, and squared his shoulders as if prepping for battle. Aiden made a mental note to talk to Kieran about how badly Antony had descended into his life of non-stop mourning and jerk-hood.

“So, Rosalee, not putting out for you or what? You need to get laid maybe? Knock the edge off?”

The glare Aiden got for saying those particular words did make him worry Antony might punch his aching head through the passenger-side window.

He clenched his jaw in the way Aiden remembered from their childhood. “That is so far outside the realm of your business as to be in another galaxy. Get to work and don’t say her name to me again.”

And with that, Aiden was left with the fleeting thought that mentioning Rosalee directly was probably not a good idea. He surely didn’t need Antony to guess that her name was on his lips, or front and center of his mind.

He shook his head—a Bad Plan because it summoned the pounding agony back with a vengeance. Groaning, he climbed out and shuffled over to the door.

A new day began at Love Garage.

Book Title: Coach Love
Author: Liz Crowe

LizCrowe2-FJM_Mid_Res_1000x1500

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: January 5, 2015
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Synopsis

 

The smoldering intensity of first love ~ the forbidden fantasy of temptation ~ the cold hard facts of real life.

When one man’s hopes are dashed apart in a split second after years spent chasing a dream, he returns home to Kentucky furious at the world and everyone around him.

Kieran Francesco is the middle son of the volatile, tight-knit Halloran-Love family. His role as peacemaker and the one true athlete is well established. He now faces life devoid of the sport he adores after a horrific, career-ending accident, which places him in a new and entirely uncomfortable position—that of the brother with no future.

Over the course of a few tumultuous months Kieran is plunged back into life at the center of the Love family, where he must cope with one self-destructive brother, one ill-timed reconnection to an old flame and a series of bad choices that land him in more trouble than he’d ever known existed.

COACH LOVE, book 2 of The Love Brothers, a family saga of sibling loyalty that runs as deep and wide as the Ohio River—at least until Sunday, when Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations at the weekly Love brother pick-up basketball game.

Excerpt

 

As he drove the twenty or so miles from his parents’ house into town Kieran’s head began to clear. The windows were down and the tunes cranked. The sun shone. Signs of summer–one of his favorite seasons–were all around him. Parks packed with families, all the basketball courts and swimming pools overflowing. The sight of a gaggle of boys on bikes riding alongside him for a while, singing along with whatever random, crappy rap song currently polluted the airwaves made him smile.

“Hey, it’s Kieran Love!” one of the punks shouted after a few blocks. “Can you come over and shoot a few with us?”

He waved and drove on, gratified but sad, the sound of their cheerful unhappiness at his refusal filling his ears, taking the stretch of four lane road at seventy miles an hour, pressing the gas pedal to the floor, the throaty, powerful roar of the car’s engine revving him from head to toe.

It would be all right because he and Melinda loved each other. They had from the moment they’d met. He passed some grandpa in a Toyota, as the deep green fields surrounded by picturesque white fences and dotted with horses filled both sides of his vision.

He’d been home and recuperating from radical knee surgery with the best prognosis he could hope for after such a nasty break–to walk normally, much less play the occasional pick up game. His depression had been deep, wide, and terrifying. He woke every day at his parents’ house, unwilling even to get out of bed, not that he could without help for the first few weeks.

Antony had tossed a laptop computer at him one day when he’d been sulking, unshaven, and eating an entire bag of potato chips, something he’d not done since the age of ten when his fate–bound for basketball fame and fortune–had been determined.

“Here, find a job, find a date, find something,” he’d said before yanking the empty chip bag away and smacking Kieran’s head hard enough to make his ears ring.

“Ow. Leave me alone, asshole. I’m grievously injured,” he’d said, not caring about the swear-free zone he inhabited.

“That’s three dollars young man,” his mother had called out from the kitchen.

“You live with this, jerk, and see how you feel about finding ‘a date.’“ He’d hooked his fingers around the words, heart in his throat at how badly he’d wanted to call Cara right then.

But by the next weekend he was caning and limping his way toward the door to some faux-fancy Italian restaurant in Lexington, rubbing his freshly shaved face and trying not to sweat through his dress shirt. The woman from the internet site sat at the bar, twirling an olive-laden swizzle stick in her martini glass, long, slim, bare legs crossed, feet encased in sky-high patent leather heels. He’d exhaled, beyond relived that he’d not been cat-fished by some troll, or worse, a dude.

He’d hesitated then, something in him telling him to turn around and leave, fast. But at that moment, she’d flashed him the whitest, most perfect smile he’d ever seen and he’d been hooked. He still didn’t know how. They’d gone out for three weeks before she let him kiss her. It’d been another three weeks before he got anywhere near her tits. It had been a solid four months before he scored but that encounter had been, in a word, epic.

Melinda liked to talk dirty, wear heels and a garter belt while he fucked her. Loved doing it with all the lights on and in semi-public places. She gave head like a pro at first, before he’d given her an engagement ring.

Her bitchiness had come across as extreme decisiveness, sort of hot in way, he’d admit, since he tended toward the spontaneous and unplanned–”wishy washy” as he now understood it thanks to Melinda’s re-categorization of his personality. Her tight grip on her emotions and her surroundings, the OCD way she ordered her life did grate on him at times but he figured she tolerated his innate sloppiness and willingness to wake on a Sunday without a plan in place for the rest of the day. When he realized he sat across from her at some overpriced, hipster restaurant near her office after going out with her for eight months, ready to present her with a ring he could barely afford, it had shocked him without seeming to even faze her.

“Well, of course I’ll marry you, but you’ve got to find a better job,” she’d drawled as she sipped her champagne.

“A new job?” He’d gotten the teaching gig at his old high school and couldn’t imagine any job he’d want or like better. She made six figures for Christ’s sake, at least he thought she did.

Elated, drunk with lust and achievement, he’d tried to get his long legs adjusted under the small table jammed between all the others and covered with small plates of “tapas” which, best he could tell were “appetizers” only twice the price and half the helpings.

“I’ll do anything you want, Melinda. You saved me, honest to God you did.”

She’d fluttered her inky black lashes and gazed at him with an expression that convinced him he’d made the drastic move for the right reasons. The following year had been a combination of frustration, anger and high school level blue balls. The double drama Antony and Aiden had foisted on the Love family during that time hadn’t helped but it had distracted him. He’d taught his classes, helped out with the basketball team pro bono without telling Melinda and had been happier than he’d ever been as a pro athlete.

The fact that she maintained her uber-bitch persona around his family killed him. But he was hooked.

Still.

Mostly.

Book Trailer

About the Author

 

bw at fest

Amazon best-selling author, beer blogger and beer marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe lives Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.

Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

Connect with the Author

 

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The Love Brothers Cover Reveals

The Love Brothers

By Liz Crowe

COVER-REVEAL-Love-Brothers-Tour-Banner

The Love Brothers: A family saga with humor, heat and heart

—not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball!

MEDIA KIT LizCrowe-FJM_High_Res_1800x2700

Love Garage

Book 1

January 5, 2015 (ebook and audio)   ~   March 14, 2015 (Print)

Blurb:

Antony Love is the quintessential responsible oldest brother of a boisterous, Italian/Irish family, placed in charge at a young age by his parents who are busy running the family business. He manages his siblings with a fair but iron hand, until his life is shattered by personal tragedy leaving him the shell of the man he once was.

When outspoken matriarch Lindsay Halloran Love falls ill, the youngest brother Aiden shows up at Antony’s garage, having dropped out of school (again), needing work and a place to crash. Antony provides both, with three caveats: “Don’t smoke in my truck, don’t be late for work, and don’t mess with my girlfriend.”

But Aiden Love, budding novelist, gets one glimpse of Rosalee Norris, young widow of Antony’s lifelong best friend and all bets are off.

Set in horse country near Lexington, Kentucky, The Love Brothers Series is a saga of family devotion that runs as wide and deep as the Ohio River–except on Sundays when brothers Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations on the basketball court, Love brother style.

Pre-Order Love Garage:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00P4GJCL8

Love Garage Excerpt:

Love Garage opened bright and early the next morning, a Saturday, a day Aiden had hoped to spend recovering.

“I get so many oil changes and random small jobs on Saturdays, it doesn’t make sense to be closed and let the jackasses with the Quickilube at Walmart get the business,” Antony insisted when Aiden groaned with dismay upon being awakened after two hours of drunken sleep. It didn’t help that the awakening occurred at the business end of a thrown pillow. “Get up, Romeo. You owe me rent money.”

He did, slowly, queasily hitting a shower, sore all over, his skin mottled from bug bites. But nothing topped the glorious agony of a bourbon hangover like the one that had him firmly in its evil grasp.

He slouched out the door, cursing Antony, cursing Tricia, cursing her ex-husband for throwing her in his path last night. But mostly cursing his own weak-ass uselessness. He rested his head against the cool comfort of the truck window until Antony hit a bump or two, which sent extra pain jolting down his spine.

“Sorry,” his brother muttered, glancing over at him.

“No, you’re not.”

“Got me there. And you’d better warn me if you’re about to toss your cookies. I won’t have that in my vehicle, got me?”

Aiden rubbed his neck and nodded, swallowing the urge to throw up all over the pristine interior on principal. “Why d’you hate me so much? You used to like me.” He stared over at his brother, heart thumping, ears humming, throat closing up with nausea. He despised waking up still drunk.

“I don’t hate you.” Antony turned onto the main road headed into town.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a real asshole anymore. Worse than Dom.”

Antony merely shrugged, not rising to that tried-and-true bait. So they spent the rest of the ride to the garage in silence. Once there, Antony sat gripping the wheel. Aiden waited, hoping he’d get something out of him—something he would assure him that the man he thought he remembered as the protective, funny, and loving guy he’d grown up with still existed inside the guy walking around wearing Antony’s skin.

Finally, he let go of the wheel, exhaled, and squared his shoulders as if prepping for battle. Aiden made a mental note to talk to Kieran about how badly Antony had descended into his life of non-stop mourning and jerk-hood.

“So, Rosalee, not putting out for you or what? You need to get laid maybe? Knock the edge off?”

The glare Aiden got for saying those particular words did make him worry Antony might punch his aching head through the passenger-side window.

He clenched his jaw in the way Aiden remembered from their childhood. “That is so far outside the realm of your business as to be in another galaxy. Get to work and don’t say her name to me again.”

And with that, Aiden was left with the fleeting thought that mentioning Rosalee directly was probably not a good idea. He surely didn’t need Antony to guess that her name was on his lips, or front and center of his mind.

He shook his head—a Bad Plan because it summoned the pounding agony back with a vengeance. Groaning, he climbed out and shuffled over to the door.

A new day began at Love Garage.

MEDIA KIT LizCrowe2-FJM_High_Res_1800x2700

Coach Love

Book 2

January 5, 2015 (ebook and audio)   ~    March 14, 2015 (Print)

Blurb:

The smoldering intensity of first love ~ the forbidden fantasy of temptation ~ the cold hard facts of real life.

When one man’s hopes are dashed apart in a split second after years spent chasing a dream, he returns home to Kentucky furious at the world and everyone around him.

 Kieran Francesco is the middle son of the volatile, tight-knit Halloran-Love family. His role as peacemaker and the one true athlete is well established. He now faces life devoid of the sport he adores after a horrific, career-ending accident, which places him in a new and entirely uncomfortable position—that of the brother with no future.

Over the course of a few tumultuous months Kieran is plunged back into life at the center of the Love family, where he must cope with one self-destructive brother, one ill-timed reconnection to an old flame and a series of bad choices that land him in more trouble than he’d ever known existed.

COACH LOVE, book 2 of The Love Brothers, a family saga of sibling loyalty that runs as deep and wide as the Ohio River—at least until Sunday, when Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations at the weekly Love brother pick-up basketball game.

Coach Love EXCERPT:

As he drove the twenty or so miles from his parents’ house into town Kieran’s head began to clear. The windows were down and the tunes cranked. The sun shone. Signs of summer–one of his favorite seasons–were all around him. Parks packed with families, all the basketball courts and swimming pools overflowing. The sight of a gaggle of boys on bikes riding alongside him for a while, singing along with whatever random, crappy rap song currently polluted the airwaves made him smile.

“Hey, it’s Kieran Love!” one of the punks shouted after a few blocks. “Can you come over and shoot a few with us?”

He waved and drove on, gratified but sad, the sound of their cheerful unhappiness at his refusal filling his ears, taking the stretch of four lane road at seventy miles an hour, pressing the gas pedal to the floor, the throaty, powerful roar of the car’s engine revving him from head to toe.

It would be all right because he and Melinda loved each other. They had from the moment they’d met. He passed some grandpa in a Toyota, as the deep green fields surrounded by picturesque white fences and dotted with horses filled both sides of his vision.

He’d been home and recuperating from radical knee surgery with the best prognosis he could hope for after such a nasty break–to walk normally, much less play the occasional pick up game. His depression had been deep, wide, and terrifying. He woke every day at his parents’ house, unwilling even to get out of bed, not that he could without help for the first few weeks.

Antony had tossed a laptop computer at him one day when he’d been sulking, unshaven, and eating an entire bag of potato chips, something he’d not done since the age of ten when his fate–bound for basketball fame and fortune–had been determined.

“Here, find a job, find a date, find something,” he’d said before yanking the empty chip bag away and smacking Kieran’s head hard enough to make his ears ring.

“Ow. Leave me alone, asshole. I’m grievously injured,” he’d said, not caring about the swear-free zone he inhabited.

“That’s three dollars young man,” his mother had called out from the kitchen.

“You live with this, jerk, and see how you feel about finding ‘a date.’“ He’d hooked his fingers around the words, heart in his throat at how badly he’d wanted to call Cara right then.

But by the next weekend he was caning and limping his way toward the door to some faux-fancy Italian restaurant in Lexington, rubbing his freshly shaved face and trying not to sweat through his dress shirt. The woman from the internet site sat at the bar, twirling an olive-laden swizzle stick in her martini glass, long, slim, bare legs crossed, feet encased in sky-high patent leather heels. He’d exhaled, beyond relived that he’d not been cat-fished by some troll, or worse, a dude.

He’d hesitated then, something in him telling him to turn around and leave, fast. But at that moment, she’d flashed him the whitest, most perfect smile he’d ever seen and he’d been hooked. He still didn’t know how. They’d gone out for three weeks before she let him kiss her. It’d been another three weeks before he got anywhere near her tits. It had been a solid four months before he scored but that encounter had been, in a word, epic.

Melinda liked to talk dirty, wear heels and a garter belt while he fucked her. Loved doing it with all the lights on and in semi-public places. She gave head like a pro at first, before he’d given her an engagement ring.

Her bitchiness had come across as extreme decisiveness, sort of hot in way, he’d admit, since he tended toward the spontaneous and unplanned–”wishy washy” as he now understood it thanks to Melinda’s re-categorization of his personality. Her tight grip on her emotions and her surroundings, the OCD way she ordered her life did grate on him at times but he figured she tolerated his innate sloppiness and willingness to wake on a Sunday without a plan in place for the rest of the day. When he realized he sat across from her at some overpriced, hipster restaurant near her office after going out with her for eight months, ready to present her with a ring he could barely afford, it had shocked him without seeming to even faze her.

“Well, of course I’ll marry you, but you’ve got to find a better job,” she’d drawled as she sipped her champagne.

“A new job?” He’d gotten the teaching gig at his old high school and couldn’t imagine any job he’d want or like better. She made six figures for Christ’s sake, at least he thought she did.

Elated, drunk with lust and achievement, he’d tried to get his long legs adjusted under the small table jammed between all the others and covered with small plates of “tapas” which, best he could tell were “appetizers” only twice the price and half the helpings.

“I’ll do anything you want, Melinda. You saved me, honest to God you did.”

She’d fluttered her inky black lashes and gazed at him with an expression that convinced him he’d made the drastic move for the right reasons. The following year had been a combination of frustration, anger and high school level blue balls. The double drama Antony and Aiden had foisted on the Love family during that time hadn’t helped but it had distracted him. He’d taught his classes, helped out with the basketball team pro bono without telling Melinda and had been happier than he’d ever been as a pro athlete.

The fact that she maintained her uber-bitch persona around his family killed him. But he was hooked.

Still.

Mostly.

 MEDIA KIT LizCrowe3_b-FJM_High_Res_1800x2700

Love Brewing

Book 3

March 1, 2015 (ebook and audio)   ~   March 14, 2015 (Print)

Blurb:

Every family has one—the black sheep, the problem child, the prodigal. But Dominic Sean Love could teach all of those guys a lesson or two. Stuck in the middle of a boisterous group of siblings, he’s given “acting out” a new meaning from the day he drew his first breath.

While he’s the one son who follows his strict father’s footsteps into the Love family business, he’s also the one who butts heads with him the hardest. Their epic clashes are the stuff of family legend. But they have made peace and work side by side to take Love Brewing to the next level of success.

Until Dominic does the one thing his father can never forgive.

Diana Brantley has been Dominic’s friend, girlfriend and ex-girlfriend so many times she’s lost count. When he shows up at the farm she’s slowly transforming into a wildly popular farm-to-table resource for restaurants all over the U.S. her first impulse is to shoot first and ask questions later. But she doesn’t. And their lives entwine once more, for good, bad and ugly.

Working (pre-edited) Excerpt:

Dominic would give anything be able to talk to Kieran. They’d gotten close in the last months since he’d required a rather alarming rescue from a jail down in Georgia and his brother had shown up, very few questions asked.  But no, Kieran had his own issues and likely at that very moment was busy trying to convince his high school girlfriend to marry him, even as she stood dressed and ready to marry someone else.

He had to squeeze his eyes tight shut to banish images of Kent for the zillionth time.

“You need dry clothes,” Diana said, interrupting his pity party.

He shrugged and kept his gaze fixed on the view of rain. “Your garden looks like shit. When’s the last time you bothered to pull weeds?”

She snorted. He smiled. He used to love it when she’d do that. He’d honestly had no intention of showing up here today. The Brantley farm remained way off the beaten track, if the track around Lucasville could be considered “beaten” in any way. When he’d raced out of the stifling hot sanctuary and hotwired Kieran’s car he’d driven off without a single thought in his addled head other than “escape.”

But when he’d finally released his death grip on the steering wheel he’d looked through the windshield and found himself facing the old two-story farmhouse where he’d lost his virginity—not to Diana but to her sister Jen, an older version of the girl he’d been hanging around with since God was a boy. The whooshing sound that had deafened him for the last couple of days had receded ever so slightly at the sight of the place.

He’d not been anywhere near it in over six years, ever since he’d run out here to find Diana when Gina had bolted for New York. Her reaction to his surprise visit had been decidedly less hostile then. He groaned and ran a hand down his wet face.

No one to blame but yourself for this reception, numb nuts.

As if on cue, the dog whined and bumped his leg with its huge muzzle.

“Bossy bitch,” he said softly, giving her another scratch behind the ears. The animal gazed at him adoringly. Yeah, dogs always did love him. He glanced up and caught sight of Diana tugging on a shirt that looked way too big for her. The sight of it sent a thrill of something he didn’t want to acknowledge as jealousy down his spine.

You have less than no place being jealous of anything about her, he reminded himself. She stared at him as she buttoned up the light blue, obviously man-sized shirt. He had to restrain himself from blinking too fast at the onrushing memories that threatened to mow him down.

“Put on a few pounds eh Di?” he said, leaning back against the rough barn wall. The dog practically crawled up onto the hay bale and laid its head in his lap. Damn thing weighed over eighty pounds and smelled like rancid pond water, but he didn’t stop it.

“Fuck you,” she said, turning away and giving him a lovely view of the backs of her slim, tanned legs. “Come up to the house and get some dry clothes on, you dumbass.” She stood there, wearing that shirt that made his chest hurt, pondering where it had come from, her legs bare and beautiful. It made him want to weep. He set his jaw and turned away from her.

“I missed you and your ladylike ways,” he said, almost absently, as he turned back to study the rain that pounded the window. “Ow!” The towel pop flicked his neck, then his thigh. “Damn girl, you on your period or what?” He rubbed his leg and noted that he was, indeed, soaked through and could use a change of clothes. Too bad he hadn’t thought of that when he ran away from what remained of his former life.

“I can feel your crybaby BS from clear across this barn,” she said.

He turned fast, angry at her words. But her gaze comforted him. And suddenly, he realized why he’d found himself here, on what could be labeled as the worst day of his sorry-ass thirty years.

“How’d marriage work out for ya,” he said, shoving the dog off his lap and getting to his feet.

“How d’you think? I mean, I’m sure it was the talk of the town.” She kept staring at him, not moving. For a split second, Dom found himself headed toward her, needing to feel her skin, taste her lips. But he stood, keeping the four or so feet between them, the dogs milling around their ankles making worried noises. An errant drop of water fell from a lock of hair over his eyes. The moment felt fraught and he cursed himself for causing her pain, again. And again.

“Well, I guess the guy was lucky to escape with his balls intact,” he said, finally. “You’re still as ugly as homemade sin,” he lied.

The corner of her lips lifted. He let himself exhale.

It was on now. And he knew she’d let him stay as long as he needed.

 MEDIA KIT LizCrowe4-FJM_High_Res_1800x2700

And coming late summer 2015: FAMILY LOVE (ebook, audio and print)

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LOVE BROTHERS TRAILER

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

MEDIA KIT Liz Crowe Author PhotoAmazon best-selling author, beer blogger and beer marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe lives Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.

Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

www.lizcrowe.com

www.brewingpasssion.com

www.facebook.com/lizcroweauthor

www.facebook.com/groups/lizcrowefans

www.twitter.com/beerwencha2

www.a2beerwench.com

www.amazon.com/Liz-Crowe/e/B00573TC7M

 

GIVEAWAY Details:

A  Grand Prize pack which includes $60 worth of Amazon GCs, ebooks, and other prizes. There are also First and Second Place Prize packs consisting of Amazon GCs and books.

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Click the tour banner below to follow the tour.

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Love Brothers Series Cover Reveals

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Cover Reveal

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Release Date: January 5, 2015 (ebook) March 14, 2015 (print)

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About the Book

The Love Brothers: A family saga with humor, heat and heart—not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball!

Antony Love is the quintessential responsible oldest brother of a boisterous, Italian/Irish family, placed in charge at a young age by his parents who are busy running the family business. He manages his siblings with a fair but iron hand, until his life is shattered by personal tragedy leaving him the shell of the man he once was.

When outspoken matriarch Lindsay Halloran Love becomes ill, the youngest brother Aiden shows up at Antony’s garage, having dropped out of school (again), needing work and a place to crash. Antony provides both, with three caveats: “Don’t smoke in my truck, don’t be late for work, and don’t mess with my girlfriend.”

But Aiden Love, budding novelist, gets one glimpse of Rosalee Norris, young widow of Antony’s lifelong best friend and all bets are off.

Set in horse country near Lexington, Kentucky, The Love Brothers Series is a saga of family devotion that runs as wide and deep as the Ohio River–except on Sundays when brothers Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations on the basketball court, Love brother style.

The Love Brothers: A family saga with humor, heat and heart—not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball.

Excerpt

Love Garage opened bright and early the next morning, a Saturday, a day Aiden had hoped to spend recovering.

“I get so many oil changes and random small jobs on Saturdays, it doesn’t make sense to be closed and let the jackasses with the Quickilube at Walmart get the business,” Antony insisted when Aiden groaned with dismay upon being awakened after two hours of drunken sleep. It didn’t help that the awakening occurred at the business end of a thrown pillow. “Get up, Romeo. You owe me rent money.”

He did, slowly, queasily hitting a shower, sore all over, his skin mottled from bug bites. But nothing topped the glorious agony of a bourbon hangover like the one that had him firmly in its evil grasp.

He slouched out the door, cursing Antony, cursing Tricia, cursing her ex-husband for throwing her in his path last night. But mostly cursing his own weak-ass uselessness. He rested his head against the cool comfort of the truck window until Antony hit a bump or two, which sent extra pain jolting down his spine.

“Sorry,” his brother muttered, glancing over at him.

“No, you’re not.”

“Got me there. And you’d better warn me if you’re about to toss your cookies. I won’t have that in my vehicle, got me?”

Aiden rubbed his neck and nodded, swallowing the urge to throw up all over the pristine interior on principal. “Why d’you hate me so much? You used to like me.” He stared over at his brother, heart thumping, ears humming, throat closing up with nausea. He despised waking up still drunk.

“I don’t hate you.” Antony turned onto the main road headed into town.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a real asshole anymore. Worse than Dom.”

Antony merely shrugged, not rising to that tried-and-true bait. So they spent the rest of the ride to the garage in silence. Once there, Antony sat gripping the wheel. Aiden waited, hoping he’d get something out of him—something he would assure him that the man he thought he remembered as the protective, funny, and loving guy he’d grown up with still existed inside the guy walking around wearing Antony’s skin.

Finally, he let go of the wheel, exhaled, and squared his shoulders as if prepping for battle. Aiden made a mental note to talk to Kieran about how badly Antony had descended into his life of non-stop mourning and jerk-hood.

“So, Rosalee, not putting out for you or what? You need to get laid maybe? Knock the edge off?”

The glare Aiden got for saying those particular words did make him worry Antony might punch his aching head through the passenger-side window.

He clenched his jaw in the way Aiden remembered from their childhood. “That is so far outside the realm of your business as to be in another galaxy. Get to work and don’t say her name to me again.”

And with that, Aiden was left with the fleeting thought that mentioning Rosalee directly was probably not a good idea. He surely didn’t need Antony to guess that her name was on his lips, or front and center of his mind.

He shook his head—a Bad Plan because it summoned the pounding agony back with a vengeance. Groaning, he climbed out and shuffled over to the door.

A new day began at Love Garage.

Pre order link available Dec. 15, 2014.

Cover Reveal

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Release Date: January 5, 2015 (ebook) March 14, 2015 (print)

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About the Book

The smoldering intensity of first love ~ the forbidden fantasy of temptation ~ the cold hard facts of real life.

When one man’s hopes are dashed apart in a split second after years spent chasing a dream, he returns home to Kentucky furious at the world and everyone around him.

Kieran Francesco is the middle son of the volatile, tight-knit Halloran-Love family. His role as peacemaker and the one true athlete is well established. He now faces life devoid of the sport he adores after a horrific, career-ending accident, which places him in a new and entirely uncomfortable position—that of the brother with no future.

Over the course of a few tumultuous months Kieran is plunged back into life at the center of the Love family, where he must cope with one self-destructive brother, one ill-timed reconnection to an old flame and a series of bad choices that land him in more trouble than he’d ever known existed.

COACH LOVE, book 2 of The Love Brothers, a family saga of sibling loyalty that runs as deep and wide as the Ohio River—at least until Sunday, when Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations at the weekly Love brother pick-up basketball game.

Excerpt

As he drove the twenty or so miles from his parents’ house into town Kieran’s head began to clear. The windows were down and the tunes cranked. The sun shone. Signs of summer–one of his favorite seasons–were all around him. Parks packed with families, all the basketball courts and swimming pools overflowing. The sight of a gaggle of boys on bikes riding alongside him for a while, singing along with whatever random, crappy rap song currently polluted the airwaves made him smile.

“Hey, it’s Kieran Love!” one of the punks shouted after a few blocks. “Can you come over and shoot a few with us?”

He waved and drove on, gratified but sad, the sound of their cheerful unhappiness at his refusal filling his ears, taking the stretch of four lane road at seventy miles an hour, pressing the gas pedal to the floor, the throaty, powerful roar of the car’s engine revving him from head to toe.

It would be all right because he and Melinda loved each other. They had from the moment they’d met. He passed some grandpa in a Toyota, as the deep green fields surrounded by picturesque white fences and dotted with horses filled both sides of his vision.

He’d been home and recuperating from radical knee surgery with the best prognosis he could hope for after such a nasty break–to walk normally, much less play the occasional pick up game. His depression had been deep, wide, and terrifying. He woke every day at his parents’ house, unwilling even to get out of bed, not that he could without help for the first few weeks.

Antony had tossed a laptop computer at him one day when he’d been sulking, unshaven, and eating an entire bag of potato chips, something he’d not done since the age of ten when his fate–bound for basketball fame and fortune–had been determined.

“Here, find a job, find a date, find something,” he’d said before yanking the empty chip bag away and smacking Kieran’s head hard enough to make his ears ring.

“Ow. Leave me alone, asshole. I’m grievously injured,” he’d said, not caring about the swear-free zone he inhabited.

“That’s three dollars young man,” his mother had called out from the kitchen.

“You live with this, jerk, and see how you feel about finding ‘a date.’“ He’d hooked his fingers around the words, heart in his throat at how badly he’d wanted to call Cara right then.

But by the next weekend he was caning and limping his way toward the door to some faux-fancy Italian restaurant in Lexington, rubbing his freshly shaved face and trying not to sweat through his dress shirt. The woman from the internet site sat at the bar, twirling an olive-laden swizzle stick in her martini glass, long, slim, bare legs crossed, feet encased in sky-high patent leather heels. He’d exhaled, beyond relived that he’d not been cat-fished by some troll, or worse, a dude.

He’d hesitated then, something in him telling him to turn around and leave, fast. But at that moment, she’d flashed him the whitest, most perfect smile he’d ever seen and he’d been hooked. He still didn’t know how. They’d gone out for three weeks before she let him kiss her. It’d been another three weeks before he got anywhere near her tits. It had been a solid four months before he scored but that encounter had been, in a word, epic.

Melinda liked to talk dirty, wear heels and a garter belt while he fucked her. Loved doing it with all the lights on and in semi-public places. She gave head like a pro at first, before he’d given her an engagement ring.

Her bitchiness had come across as extreme decisiveness, sort of hot in way, he’d admit, since he tended toward the spontaneous and unplanned–”wishy washy” as he now understood it thanks to Melinda’s re-categorization of his personality. Her tight grip on her emotions and her surroundings, the OCD way she ordered her life did grate on him at times but he figured she tolerated his innate sloppiness and willingness to wake on a Sunday without a plan in place for the rest of the day. When he realized he sat across from her at some overpriced, hipster restaurant near her office after going out with her for eight months, ready to present her with a ring he could barely afford, it had shocked him without seeming to even faze her.

“Well, of course I’ll marry you, but you’ve got to find a better job,” she’d drawled as she sipped her champagne.

“A new job?” He’d gotten the teaching gig at his old high school and couldn’t imagine any job he’d want or like better. She made six figures for Christ’s sake, at least he thought she did.

Elated, drunk with lust and achievement, he’d tried to get his long legs adjusted under the small table jammed between all the others and covered with small plates of “tapas” which, best he could tell were “appetizers” only twice the price and half the helpings.

“I’ll do anything you want, Melinda. You saved me, honest to God you did.”

She’d fluttered her inky black lashes and gazed at him with an expression that convinced him he’d made the drastic move for the right reasons. The following year had been a combination of frustration, anger and high school level blue balls. The double drama Antony and Aiden had foisted on the Love family during that time hadn’t helped but it had distracted him. He’d taught his classes, helped out with the basketball team pro bono without telling Melinda and had been happier than he’d ever been as a pro athlete.

The fact that she maintained her uber-bitch persona around his family killed him. But he was hooked.

Still.

Mostly.

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Release Date: March 1, 2015 (ebook & audio) March 14, 2015 (print)

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About the Book

Every family has one—the black sheep, the problem child, the prodigal. But Dominic Sean Love could teach all of those guys a lesson or two. Stuck in the middle of a boisterous group of siblings, he’s given “acting out” a new meaning from the day he drew his first breath.

While he’s the one son who follows his strict father’s footsteps into the Love family business, he’s also the one who butts heads with him the hardest. Their epic clashes are the stuff of family legend. But they have made peace and work side by side to take Love Brewing to the next level of success.

Until Dominic does the one thing his father can never forgive.

Diana Brantley has been Dominic’s friend, girlfriend and ex-girlfriend so many times she’s lost count. When he shows up at the farm she’s slowly transforming into a wildly popular farm-to-table resource for restaurants all over the U.S. her first impulse is to shoot first and ask questions later. But she doesn’t. And their lives entwine once more, for good, bad and ugly.

Excerpt

Working (pre-edited) Excerpt:

Dominic would give anything be able to talk to Kieran. They’d gotten close in the last months since he’d required a rather alarming rescue from a jail down in Georgia and his brother had shown up, very few questions asked. But no, Kieran had his own issues and likely at that very moment was busy trying to convince his high school girlfriend to marry him, even as she was poised and ready to marry someone else.

“You need dry clothes,” Diana said, interrupting his pity party.

He shrugged and kept his gaze fixed on the view of rain. “Your garden looks like shit. When’s the last time you bothered to pull weeds?”

She snorted. He smiled. He used to love it when she’d do that. He’d honestly had no intention of showing up here today. The Brantley farm remained way off the beaten track, if the track around Lucasville could be considered “beaten” in any way. When he’d raced out of the stifling hot sanctuary and hotwired Kieran’s car he’d driven off without a single thought in his addled head other than “escape.”

But when he’d finally released his death grip on the steering wheel he’d looked through the windshield and found himself facing the old two-story farmhouse where he’d lost his virginity—not to Diana but to her sister Jen, an older version of the girl he’d been hanging around with since God was a boy. The whooshing sound that had deafened him for the last couple of days had receded ever so slightly at the sight of the place.

He’d not been anywhere near it in over six years, ever since he’d run out here to get solace from Diana when Gina had bolted for New York. Her reaction to his surprise visit had been decidedly less hostile then. He groaned and ran a hand down his wet face.

No one to blame but yourself for this reception, numb nuts.

As if on cue, one of the dogs whined and bumped his leg with its huge muzzle.

“Bossy bitch,” he said softly, giving her another scratch behind the ears. The animal gazed at him adoringly.

Yeah, at least dogs always loved him.

He glanced up and caught sight of Diana tugging on something dry that looked way too big for her. The sight of it sent a thrill of something he didn’t want to acknowledge as jealousy down his spine.

You have less than no place being jealous of anything about her, he reminded himself. She stared at him as she buttoned up the light blue, obviously man-sized shirt. He had to restrain himself from blinking too fast at the onrushing memories threatening to mow him down.

“Put on a few pounds eh Di?” he said, leaning back against the rough barn wall. The dog practically crawled up onto the hay bale and laid its head in his lap. Damn thing weighed over eighty pounds and smelled like rancid pond water, but he didn’t stop it.

“Fuck you,” she said, turning away and giving him a lovely view of the backs of her slim, tanned legs. “Come up to the house and get some dry clothes on, you dumbass.” She stood there, wearing that shirt that made his chest tight, pondering where it had come from, her legs bare and beautiful. It made him want to weep. He set his jaw and turned away from her.

“I missed you and your ladylike ways,” he said, almost absently, as he turned back to study the rain pounding against the window. “Ow!” The towel pop flicked his neck, then his thigh. “Damn girl, you on your period or what?” He rubbed his leg and noted that he was, indeed, soaked through and could use a change of clothes. Too bad he hadn’t thought of that when he ran away from what remained of his former life.

“I can feel your crybaby BS from clear across this barn,” she said. “Makes me wanna laugh.”

He turned fast, angry at her words. But her gaze comforted him. And suddenly, he realized why he’d found himself here, on what could be labeled as the worst day of his sorry-ass thirty years.

“How’d married life work out for ya,” he said, shoving the dog off his lap and getting to his feet.

“How d’you think? I mean, I’m sure it was the talk of the town.” She kept staring at him, not moving. For a split second, Dom found himself headed toward her, needing to feel her skin, taste her lips. But he stood, keeping the four or so feet between them, the dogs milling around their ankles making worried noises. An errant drop of water fell from a lock of hair over his eyes. The moment felt fraught and he cursed himself for causing her pain, again. And again.

“Well, I guess the guy was lucky to escape with his balls intact,” he said, finally. “You’re still as ugly as homemade sin,” he lied.

The corner of her lips lifted. He let himself exhale.

It was on now. And he knew she’d let him stay here as long as he needed.

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About the Author

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Amazon best-selling author, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.

Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.

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