Losers Keepers

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This book was added to our catalog on Saturday 01 January, 2011.




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Dagne Lonegan, aka Dear Philomena, advice dispenser extraordinaire, hoped that spending a year on the Eastern Shore island of Chincoteague to write her novel would clear her sinuses, if not her heart, of any feelings for Jack Andrews, erstwhile lover and long-time jerk.  It’s just her luck that her first week on the island she’s in the right place at the right time to be involved with a murder.  Only she doesn’t know it.

Unfortunately, the murderer doesn’t know she doesn’t know.  Strange and dangerous things begin happening to her, interfering with her new romance with Tom Ellis, the handsome manager of the National Wildlife Refuge.  Complications ensue when her Jack arrives to take charge of the murder investigation.

Will Dagne stick with the tall, cool glass of a Ranger or fall back into the arms of her first tempestuous passion?

Author Name: M. S. Spencer
Author URL: http://http:msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com
Author Bio
Although M. S. Spencer has lived in Chicago, Boston, New York, France, Morocco, Turkey, Egypt, and England, the last 30 years have been spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director and parent.  Once she escaped academia, she worked for the U.S. Senate, the U.S. Department of the Interior, in several library systems, both public and academic, and at the Torpedo Factory Art Center.  She holds a BA from Vassar College, a Diploma in Arabic Studies from the American University in Cairo, and Masters in Anthropology and in Library Science from the University of Chicago.  All of this tends to insinuate itself into her works.
 
Ms. Spencer has published eight romance novels. The first two, Lost in His Arms and Lost and Found, were published by Red Rose Publishing. The other six—Losers Keepers, Triptych, Artful Dodging: the Torpedo Factory Murders, Mai Tais and Mayhem: Murder at Mote Marine, Lapses of Memory, and The Mason's Mark—were published by Secret Cravings. She has two fabulous grown children, and currently divides her time between the Gulf coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

 

ISBN: 978-1-936653-95-9
Cover Artist: Beth Walker
Formats: EPUB, HTML, LIT, MOBI, PDF

 

Loser’s Keepers by M. S. Spencer

 

  
Dagne Lonegan, aka Dear Philomena, advice dispenser extraordinaire, hoped that spending a year on the Eastern Shore island of Chincoteague to write her novel would clear her sinuses, if not her heart, of any feelings for Jack Andrews, erstwhile lover and long-time jerk.  It’s just her luck that her first week on the island she’s in the right place at the right time to be involved with a murder.  Only she doesn’t know it.
 
Unfortunately, the murderer doesn’t know she doesn’t know. Strange and dangerous things begin happening to her, interfering with her new romance with Tom Ellis, the handsome manager of the National Wildlife Refuge. Complications ensue when her Jack arrives to take charge of the murder investigation.
 
Will Dagne stick with the tall, cool glass of a Ranger or fall back into the arms of her first tempestuous passion?
 
 
Dagne is definitely caught in a conundrum.  Stuff’s been happening to her ever since she arrived on Chincoteague.  Mostly at first she writes it off as coincidence, bad luck.  Then when Jack shows up investigating her father, she wonders if it has anything to do with the package he asked her to drop off on her way there. She’s too busy drooling over the tall, handsome wildlife ranger and trying to fight back her feelings for Jack, with on-line commentary from her very French mother.
 
As I’ve said before, erotica is not my first love, but this book was written tastefully and flowed quite nicely.  It pulled me in from the very beginning and kept me immersed throughout. In fact, I’ve become a fan of Ms. Spencer and when I read her bio, I was quite impressed with her resume, even if she did spend all of her time in Chicago on the South Side.  At least the University of Chicago’s the good part.  I spent a few weeks on the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake when my ex-husband worked an outage at the Calvert Cliffs nuclear power plant.  (When you’re married to a rent-a-tech you do get around.)  It truly is a whole other world over there.  Let M. S. Spencer take you to it.  I highly recommend her point of view.
 
 
Length:  227 Pages
 
Price:  $5.50
 
 
You’ll notice I always include the publisher’s buy link.  That’s because authors usually receive 40% of the book price from the publisher.  Editors and cover artists usually receive about 5%.  When you buy a book from Amazon, Barnes & Noble or another third-party vendor, they take a hefty cut and the author, editors and cover artists receive their cuts from what is left.  So, if this book costs $5.50 at Secret Cravings and you buy from there, the author will receive about $2.20.  If you buy the book at Amazon, the author will receive about $0.66.
 
Downloading the file from your computer to your Kindle is as easy as transferring any file from your computer to a USB flash drive.  Plug the USB end of your chord into a USB port on your computer and simply move the file from your “Downloads” box to your Kindle/Documents/Books directory. I actually download my books using “Save As” to a “Books” file on my computer that’s sorted by my publisher, friends, and books “to review,” and then transfer them to my Kindle from there.  That way, if there’s a glitch with my Kindle, the books are on my computer.  Your author will be happy you did when he/she sees his/her royalty statement.
 
 

 

Story Excerpt

As she leapt out of bed to rescue the pot someone knocked at the front door. She checked the

clock. 8:00. A bit early. Maybe it’s the milkman. She clucked at her little joke, but took a

moment to smooth her hair and flip off her fuzzy slippers. Halfway down the stairs, she peered

through the glass door to see a tall, broad-shouldered silhouette. Someone new? And handsome

too! Panting only slightly, she tripped on the last step and almost fell flat. Ingesting a couple of

ragged gulps, she called, “Who is it?”

“Miss Lonegan? It’s Tom Ellis. I’m the Chincoteague Refuge Manager. I’d like to ask you a

couple of questions.”

Questions? Dagne opened the door and took a step back. A tall, remarkably good-looking

man in the tan uniform of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service stood on the mat. His dark brown

eyes flecked with cream reminded her of the Sika elk that roamed Assateague. The flat-rimmed

ranger hat obscured his hair but his tanned face sported a bit of five o’clock shadow, which only

served to highlight the straight Roman nose. He smiled a dazzling smile and stuck his hand out.

“Miss Lonegan?”

“Yes?”

“May I come in?” Dagne realized she was still holding his hand and gazing hungrily into

those chocolate eyes. She shook her head to clear it.

“Of course, of course.” She led the way into the living room and indicated one of the easy

chairs patterned in blue ponies. She sat on the sleep sofa, only to jump up hastily to clear the

coffee table of half-filled take-out boxes and bits of underwear, her face burning. The ranger sat

quietly, hat in hand, while she bustled about trying not to stare at his large, strong hands. A full

head of rich brown hair too—is there anything that isn’t gorgeous about him? “Sorry. I’ve just

moved in and I haven’t had time to organize or even grocery shop.”

“I understand. Cora Anne said you’re staying for a year?”

Chincoteague sure was a small town. “Yes. I’m trying to write a novel.”

“That’s wonderful.” He didn’t seem surprised at the news. The pause lengthened. Dagne

finally settled down on the sofa. “Well…Mr. Ellis, is it? What can I do for you?” How about a

big, wet one?

“Miss Lonegan, as I mentioned, I supervise the wildlife refuge. I don’t know whether you’ve

heard, but there’s been a murder.”

Dagne took a moment to pull her jaw back up and her eyes back in. “A what?”

“A murder. We found the body Saturday morning. On the refuge.”

“No, I had no idea. I haven’t talked to anyone yet today.” Wait a minute. When was I

trapped on the Woodland Trail? “Saturday? The day before yesterday?”

“Yes.” He studied her, his eyes sharp. “I heard you were there the afternoon before. I mean,

on the refuge. On Friday. Nick, one of our volunteers, said he talked to you.”

Dagne tried to think. “Yes, that’s right. I stopped in at the visitors’ center just at closing

around four. I’d seen a fawn with a broken leg on the Swan Cove trail and wanted to let them

know.”

“And where did you go after that?”

“I decided to walk the Woodland Trail.”

He sat forward eagerly. “You did? Did you see anyone else on the path?”

“There were a few people, yes. But they were heading back when I started walking. I was

alone for most of the hike.”

“Did you see anyone in the parking lot?”

“No. No one. By the time I got back to my car everyone had gone.”

“What made you decide to go so late in the day?”

Why did this begin to sound like an interrogation? She hoped she didn’t sound like a person

with something to hide, but his close scrutiny made her nervous. “I…I didn’t really think about

the time. I’d been working and thought I’d take a break and get some exercise. To tell the truth,

I’d forgotten how long the trail was. When the sun went down the place spooked me a bit and I

ran most of the way back.”

Hmmm.” He sat back. A couple of minutes ticked by while he seemed lost in reverie.

“Mr. Ellis? Who was murdered?”

“What? Oh, please, call me Tom. The victim? A local girl, name of Terri Aster.”

“Oh dear. And have you caught the murderer?”

“No, ma’am. We’re just following up leads, looking for possible witnesses. That sort of

thing.” He looked grim.

“I see…Tom. And you can call me Dagne.” God, he’s cute. Did I just simper?

“Dagne. Nice name.” He smiled, and a little tingling sensation trickled up her back.

“Anyway, we don’t have much to go on yet. We’re questioning anyone who visited the refuge on

Friday or early Saturday.”

Curiosity getting the better of prudence, Dagne ventured, “So, how was she killed?”

Tom stopped smiling. “I’m afraid it would be inappropriate to give out details at this stage.”

He stood. “Here’s my card. I may have to interview you again. Since we found the body on

federal property I’ll be in charge of the investigation. Make sure you get in touch if you think of

anything else that might be of interest. For example, if you saw or heard anything unusual.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to make a flirtatious reply, but she bit it instead. Talk about

inappropriate timing!—but he was so gorgeous, so polite, so different from Jack. Maybe, just

maybe….

Adult Excerpt

A young woman shuffled toward them, stopping to pick up two large leather-bound

menus. “Anywhere.”

They took that to mean they had a choice of seating and picked a table by the window.

Dagne ordered the flounder and Jack chose crab cakes. They stared out at the choppy gray water,

faces studiously averted from at each other. The waitress brought glasses of wine. Dagne took a

large swig, but still couldn’t think of anything to say. She didn’t have a clue where they stood or

what Jack was thinking, not to mention how she felt about things. His profile was, as usual,

sphinx-like. Impassive. Unreadable. And so handsome. She could see his long black lashes and

the glint of cyan from his eyes. She could smell his scent, always fresh and clean, from across

the table. He turned to face her, and she felt the blood rise hotly to her cheeks.

He sipped his wine, studying her. “I’d forgotten how beautiful you are.” He said it

simply.

Dagne waited for her heart to stop thumping and finally emitted a squirrely “Thank you.”

He continued to canvass her features.

“Jack…”

“Dagne…”

A broad face, heavily made up, came between them. The query “Crab cakes?” came out

along with a puff of Marlborough.

Jack accepted his plate with a wry grin. The waitress set trenchers of coleslaw and hush

puppies on the table, and slid a platter eclipsed by an enormous fish bulging with crabmeat under

Dagne’s nose. It smelled wonderful.

An hour later, Jack paid and they walked arm in arm out to her car. Both Dagne’s

stomach and heart were replete. Night had fallen. “The traffic should have cleared by now. Why

don’t I give you a ride back to…I’ve forgotten where you’re staying?”

“It’s a B and B in New Church. Not far. Thanks.” They got in. As Dagne searched for her

keys, Jack’s arm settled on her shoulder. She backed out of the parking lot and headed down the

dirt road. His hand rubbed her neck gently. She pressed back. It felt so good. She didn’t even

mind when his other hand began to wander down toward her breast but thought it prudent to

suppress the urge to help him. His breath came huskily in her ear. “Dagne, I want you. Now.”

“Jack, we’re in a car!”

“On a deserted road. Out in the wilderness.”

“It’s a farm. Somebody’s farm.”

“Yeah, I know. Perfect. Pull over.”

Anticipation clouded her judgment. She could feel different parts of her body begin to

tingle—whether at the secret thrill of the exotic location or the nearness of him, she couldn’t tell.

He pulled her out of the car, opened the back door and pushed her onto the back seat. His hot

breath seared her belly where he’d pulled up her sweatshirt. A tongue tickled her navel, then

licked upwards till it reached her bra. His hand moved on her back and an instant later, she felt

the sweet release of her breasts from the underwire. They weren’t free for long. His mouth

fastened on her nipple and began to suckle. Dagne writhed in ecstasy. “Jack, no. You are too bad.

No, don’t.”

For answer, he moved to the other nipple. When he lifted her skirt something cold and

hard ground into her. The seat belt buckle gouged her naked thighs. Fortunately fingers

distracted her from the pain as they pulled her silk panties aside—“Mmmm, silk. You know what

that does to me, Dagne”—and pressed inside her. A second later, they were replaced by a mouth

that began to massage her labia, blowing softly on the engorged lips. She felt his tongue dart

inside, licking and sucking, setting the tender flesh on fire. Her orgasm crackled upward and

sucked all the oxygen out of the tiny space.

“Jack…Jack…oh my God…Jack.” She fell to earth. As she lay panting she heard the

sound of a zipper. Where his fingers had roamed there infiltrated a most welcome, rough, hard

cock that beat up her thigh and entered her. It moved in and out, hardening with each thrust,

faster and faster. She fell into the rhythm and they rocked, the car rocking in tandem with their

motion.

Jack’s voice came urgently, muffled in her hair. “Dagne, come with me, come with me.”

“I will.” What else could she say? She rose to meet him and in a great whoosh they met

and melded into one perfect creature, undivided. He let his body gently settle on hers and they

lay quietly. Just as Dagne began to drift off to sleep, a light hit her eyes and the sound of a truck

engine broke the stillness. “Jack, Jack, get off me! Quick! It’s the tow truck!”

Jack scrambled to the side, pulling his jeans up. He let out an oath and she heard a

sucking sound. “Damned zipper.” Meanwhile she pulled both her sweatshirt and her skirt down,

scrambled out the door and dove for the front seat. Just in time for the driver to pull off the road

behind the Subaru.

“You the one needing a tow, Lady?”

None

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