#NewRelease from M.S. Spencer

My fellow Wild Rose Press Author M.S. Spencer is here to celebrate the release of a brand new humorous romantic suspense/romantic comedy. This one sounds like a real hoot! Please welcome M.S. Spencer.

Thank you so much for letting me talk to your readers about my new mystery romance The Pit and the Passion: Murder at the Ghost Hotel. Set on Longboat Key, Florida, it features an unexpected skeleton, a quirky romance between an arrogant though talented writer and a beautiful reporter, and a complicated set of clues that lead to a deadly secret long hidden by the most famous circus family in the world.

I love bringing the secondary characters in my stories alive. In The Mason’s Mark: Love & Death in the Tower, I have two old ladies who the heroine calls the Marples for their sleuthing skills. In Artful Dodging: the Torpedo Factory Murders, the heroine’s best friend is a wild-haired Russian artist who sculpts enormous metal objects. In The Pit & the Passion, the hero’s Aunt Gertrude is the quintessential Mainer—a rock.

Blurb:

At midnight, in the darkness of a deserted hotel, comes a scream and a splash. Eighty-five years later, workmen uncover a skeleton in an old elevator shaft. Who is it, and how did it get there? To find out, Charity Snow, ace reporter for the Longboat Key Planet, teams up with Rancor Bass, best-selling author. A college ring they find at the dig site may prove to be their best clue.

Although his arrogance nearly exceeds his talent, Charity soon discovers a warm heart beating under Rancor’s handsome exterior. While dealing with a drop-dead gorgeous editor who may or may not be a villain, a publisher with a dark secret, and an irascible forensic specialist, Charity and Rancor unearth an unexpected link to the most famous circus family in the world.


The Pit and the Passion: Murder at the Ghost Hotel
The Wild Rose Press, January 22, 2018 (Crimson Rose)
Mystery, Humorous/Romantic Comedy
Rating: PG13
418 p.; 97370 words

Rancor comes from an old Maine family, and as families go, this one is quite colorful. Gertrude, Rancor’s aunt, is a remarkable person—custodian of the family records, compiler of family foibles and accomplishments, and stickler for proper form. Rancor calls on her to help with their search for the owner of the ring they found in the pit, and she comes through.

Excerpt:

“Is that you, my boy? Where are you? I can’t hear you.”

“I’m here in Florida, Auntie.”

“Florida? I don’t want you staying in that godforsaken place, Rancor. That’s where your grandfather met that hussy and abandoned his wife and family. Come back here to Camden where you belong. You hear me?”

“Yes, Auntie. I will soon, Auntie. Now, were you able to answer my question?”

“Question? Oh, yes. Now where did I put that note…” A loud clunk sounded, then a lot of rattling. “Hello? Hello? Rancor? Are you still there?”

“Yes, Auntie. I asked you if any men with the initials RB went to the University of Maine.”

“Yes, yes. You don’t have to ask me twice. I’m not deaf. Or feeble-minded.”

“I know that, Auntie.”

“Well, all right then,” she huffed. “I checked with the chancellor, who is an old friend of the family’s, although considering the circumstances, I don’t know how we remained on cordial terms.”
Charity squinted at Rancor.

“Excuse me?”

Gertrude went on with her monologue as though there’d been no interruption. “He was most gracious and looked up the student rolls from the 1930s. He found Basses, which doesn’t come as a surprise to me. I mean—”

“So Basses went to the University of Maine?”

“Of course. In fact, your great-great-grandfather Robert graduated in the very first class of the Maine College of Agriculture and the Mechanic Arts in 1873. He was a handsome man. I have a picture of him here. He’s standing next to his sister, and—”

“Auntie? Any others?”

“Of course. Basses were among the most celebrated graduates of the university—possibly because we donated masses of money to the endowment fund. Until your grandfather, that is…”

“What happened?”

“Well, Robert’s son, Robert Junior, finished in 1903 and his son, Robert the Third, three decades later. They both managed to avoid serving in the Great War, which was a real comfort to the women of the family, I can tell you. The Bass men have been singularly lucky—why, the last Bass to carry a gun was Robert T. back in the French and Indian War. Of course, he shot himself in the foot. Come to think of it, most of the Basses were not accepted into the armed forces for one reason or another. Gerald Bass—my cousin—had flat feet, and Elmer…well, let’s just say he was rather a dim bulb. Then there was—”

“Aunt Gertrude? What happened to my grandfather?”

“Robert the Third? You know what happened to him. He ran off with that tramp. It’s not something we’re proud of, but I don’t hold with keeping secrets in a family, so I made sure you children all heard the story, if only as a cautionary tale. At the time, my grandfather, Robert Junior, blamed it on the intemperate social life at the university, and he cut the school out of his will. That’s why Rupert didn’t go.”

“So the last Bass to attend the University of Maine was my grandfather Robert?”

Buy Links:

Wild Rose Press: https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/5533-the-pit-and-the-passion-murder-at-the-ghost-hotel.html

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Pit-Passion-Murder-Ghost-Hotel-ebook/dp/B078JY8RLY

ITunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-pit-and-the-passion-murder-at-the-ghost-hotel/id1332026896?mt=11

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-pit-and-the-passion-m-s-spencer/1127750685?ean=2940158925351

KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-pit-and-the-passion-murder-at-the-ghost-hotel

Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/M_S_Spencer_The_Pit_and_the_Passion_Murder_at_the?id=F-tGDwAAQBAJ

About the Author:

Although M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents, the last thirty years were spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, policy wonk, non-profit director, and parent. After many years in 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.

Ms. Spencer has published eleven romantic suspense novels, and has two more in utero. She has two fabulous grown children and an incredible granddaughter. She divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

Contacts:

Blog: http://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/msspencerromance
Twitter: www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor
Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+MSSpencerauthor
GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/
Linked in: www.linkedin.com/in/msspencerauthor

Spotlight on A WIDOW'S WALK

Today the book spotlight is on A WIDOW'S WALK: CATHERINE'S DILEMMA by M.S. Spencer. She's offering an excerpt from the book, a romantic suspense set in Maine and Florida. Take it away, Ms. Spencer!

Snow and Whiskey

Thank you so much for having me at your fabulous site, Jana. I’d like to talk about A Widow’s Walk, my latest romantic suspense from I Heart Publishing and regale you with an excerpt that I hope makes your readers dream of red velvet curtains, northern snow, and great bears of men.

Catherine Killean is a woman on a mission. When her new husband disappears, leaving a suicide note, she is determined to find out why. She follows his tracks first to the North Woods of Maine, then to Florida, and back again to Maine. Along the way, she meets the tall, dark, gruff Holden Taggart, a Maine guide. 

In her doubt and loneliness she is drawn to Holden, leaving her confused and adrift. What will happen when her questions about Jonathan are finally answered? Will old loyalty or new love triumph?

A Widow’s Walk: Catherine’s Dilemma
I Heart Book Publishing, June 6, 2016
Ebook: words; Print: 227 p.
Contemporary romantic suspense, M/F, 2 flames

Introduction

For days, despite all their best efforts, the sexual tension has built between Catherine and Holden. Tonight, the last night of her tour of the North Woods of Maine, Catherine sleeps fitfully on silken sheets in the madam’s boudoir of a former brothel. She will be awakened twice this night, once by a stranger, and once by a lover.

Excerpt (PG): Snow and Whiskey

A soft pawing at the door roused her. “Yes?” She caught her breath. Please let it not be Al again.

“It’s me.”

“Who?”

“Me, Holden! Open the door for God’s sake.”

She went to the door, but hesitated. “What do you want?”

The growl came low. “Open the damned door, Catherine.”

She opened it. He stood there massively, leaning on the door jamb. He smelled of snow and fire and whiskey. She took a step back. He took a step forward into the room and closed the door gently behind him.

“Holden, you’re drunk!”

“I am not,” he retorted with careful dignity. “I had a shot before coming here. For warmth.”

Catherine was too busy worrying about the precarious nature of his verticality to absorb his words. To steady him, she repeated, “What do you want?”

He stared at her, his eyes hungry. Her heart flip-flopped. Holden took another step toward her. She tried to move backward and stumbled. He caught her and crushed her in his arms, his mouth coming down on hers with savage desire. She put both hands behind his head and pulled him closer. His tongue began to explore, palpating her teeth, her lips, the sensitive little inside corner of her mouth. They rocked back and forth, tasting, touching.

Suddenly Holden pulled away and staggered to the window. “I am so sorry, Catherine. It’s true, I am a little drunk. I’ve been thinking about this all day, of you—” He turned. “I’ve never felt this way about any woman. Women are—”

He was not allowed to finish. Catherine took his hand and led him to the bed. She pulled his sweater off and unbuttoned his flannel shirt. She could not resist kissing the chest as it appeared, dropping kisses down as each button came undone. Holden stood stock-still. Catherine continued to his belt. She was determined not to think about the consequences of her actions. She just wanted it. Is that so awful?

She unzipped the jeans and followed the zipper down with more kisses. She could feel him trembling. Just before she made landfall he took her arms and lifted her up.
“Not yet. I want to see you first.”

He dragged the flimsy negligee over her head. She was too aroused to care that he would see her belly and her wrinkles. She waited, empty of conscious thought. A rushing sound and then, without apparent effort, she found herself on the bed clinging to Holden, hands roaming, squeezing, lips stuck to lips, eyes glued on each other.

She felt him enter her. She tried to stop caressing him so she could focus on this new and delicious sensation, but her need was too great. It had been so long since she made love like this. That first time—after the bear—it had been satisfying, but not earthshaking. He had been no more than a body, the instrument of gratification. This time, with Holden’s fingers, lips, skin on hers, thrusting inside her with a great, deep, elemental force that almost shattered her spine, the passion swept through her like a fierce wind through Key Largo. Then it was over.

No, it wasn’t. An instant only, before he resumed his delving into her body, driving in again and again until she couldn’t stand it anymore and her body escaped her, bucking uncontrollably against him.
They slowed imperceptibly, both loath to end it. Finally Holden came to rest on top of her, his lips still cemented to hers. When he let go and rolled to one side, Catherine reached for him, panicking. He’s going to get up and leave. She knew it. Like all men. Like Jonathan.

Jonathan. Oh my God. Where did all that passion come from? What had she let herself in for? It’s not the time or the place. Holden’s eyes were closed. She thought she would close her eyes too—just for a bit—and then they would think this out together.

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01FZSCYZK

ITunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/widows-walk-catherines-dilemma/id1116861603?mt=11

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/638502

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/a-widow-s-walk-catherine-s-dilemma

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-widows-walk-ms-spencer/1123844822?ean=2940153036274

About the Author:

Although M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five continents, the last thirty years were spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director and parent. She has two fabulous grown children and a perfect granddaughter. Ms. Spencer has published ten romantic suspense/murder mystery novels, and currently divides her time between the Gulf coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

Social Media Links:  

Blog: http://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/msspencerromance

Twitter: www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor

Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+MSSpencerauthor

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/

Linked in: www.linkedin.com/in/msspencerauthor

Author Pages:

I Heart Book Publishing:
http://www.iheartbookpublishing.com/m-s-spencer.html

Romance Books 4 Us:
http://www.romancebooks4us.com/M.S._Spencer.html

Amazon Author Page:
http://www.amazon.com/M.S.-Spencer/e/B002ZOEUC8/

M.S. Spencer: In the Spotlight!

My guest today is M.S. Spencer who is here to talk about her new release, LAPSES of MEMORY from The Wild Rose Press. This timetravel/adventure romance is about two star-crossed lovers whose lives keep crossing at different times. Please welcome M.S. Spencer!

Thanks so much for giving me a chance to talk a little about the background to my new romantic suspense Lapses of Memory.

It takes thirty years for Sydney to recognize her true love only to have him forget her.

Blurb:

It is spring in Old Town Alexandria, and Sydney Bellek is dictating her memoir to her daughter Olivia. Every few years from the age of five she meets her true love Elian Davies, but while he remembers her, she doesn’t recognize him. Only after surviving wars, revolutions, and years of separation will she realize they are meant to be, but this time it is Elian who has lost his memory of her. Will he remember her before she loses heart or will their new love be enough to replace the old one?

Meanwhile, her daughter Olivia has her own dilemma—how to choose between the rich and dashing Rémy de Beaumec, who wants to take her around the world, and the steady, quiet, American-to-the-core, Benjamin Knox, who only wants to make her happy.

A little background

As journalists, Sydney and Elian fly a lot. Since in the story they only meet every few years, the dates of their meeting on a plane coincided strangely and wonderfully with new aircraft designs coming on line. Research on the development of flight technology led me to learn some interesting facts. First, the early commercial airlines were designed for comfort rather than speed. The Boeing Stratocruiser that Sydney takes when she is five had sleeping berths and a lounge, and meals were served on china plates with fine wines in etched crystal goblets. As with most advances, luxury was soon sacrificed to speed, and by the 1970s we had the SST Concorde, which made the flight from New York to London in less than three hours. Then the amazing growth in passengers blew me away. In the 1950s air travel was limited to a few adventurous souls and planes carried 100 passengers. Today the Airbus A380 can handle up to 840. In 1950 17 million people used air transportation. In 2011 an estimated 2.75 billion people flew. Sydney’s travels span the airplanes from the Boeing 377 to the Boeing 787, the Dreamliner, which flies today.

Boeing 377 Stratocruiser

Lapses of Memory
Wild Rose Press, 3/15/2017, Imprint: Champagne Rose
Contemporary romantic suspense/Action Adventure; M/F; 2 flames
Ebook (70,560); Print: 296 pp.

Buy Links:

TWRP: http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/4896-lapses-of-memory.html

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/lapses-of-memory/id1196959922?mt=11

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Lapses-Memory-M-S-Spencer-ebook/dp/B01N5P9FTU

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lapses-of-memory-ms-spencer/1115291373

KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/lapses-of-memory-1

Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/lapses-of-memory-0

Boeing 787 Dreamliner

Excerpt (PG): The Lady Doesn’t Remember

Several beers later, they wobbled out to the lobby holding hands. Sydney had learned enough to know this Elian was a complex person and really, really cute. When they reached her room, he backed her against the door. She could feel his penis throbbing through his jeans and took a minute to revel in the desire the friction kindled before pushing him away. He set his arms on either side of her and regarded her with serious eyes. “You still don’t remember me, do you?”

She shook her head. She didn’t really want to recognize him. Placing him in some other context could only be deflating. She liked him now, a tall, thin, russet-haired man with a pulsing member and inviting mouth, currently blowing a tidal wave of pheromones in her direction.

He continued to stand there, making none of the moves she wished he’d make. Finally, she took a step toward him and held out her lips. Leaning in, he took them with his. The link pulled the rest of their bodies together. Arms went around waist and neck, bellies ground against each other, thighs intertwined. Sydney fell into a long, dark, winding tunnel that squeezed her, taking her breath away. She no longer felt corporeal, but more like a soft piece of quivering tissue, the bones dissolving, reduced finally to a pool of liquid heat.

He broke away, panting. “Now do you remember me?”

Her arms empty, she tried blinking to drag herself back to the present. Elian swam into view. His cerulean eyes shot signals, signals that she couldn’t decipher. What does he want of me? Why can’t we live for the moment? Just be in the here and now? For an instant she thought of lying, but somehow she knew he would see through it, that it would only push him farther away. “I’m sorry.”
He lifted his hands, then dropped them in frustration. He gazed at her, pleading. She couldn’t help him. Bits of him seemed familiar—as though those features belonged to someone else she’d known a long time ago. Other bits, like his deep, gruff voice and his air of insolence, were strange and new. A fleeting sense of abandonment passed through her. Whoever he reminded her of had left her once before. She didn’t want that loneliness again. She turned from him and put the key in the door. He caught her arm. “We’ll meet again, Sydney.”

She tried to match the hope in his voice. “Perhaps we will.” She ran inside and threw herself on the bed. After a good cry and a call for room service, she paced the room, trying to get a grip on her emotions. Something deep in Elian’s eyes drew her. She didn’t recognize his face, but she felt a linkage, a bond with him. An affinity shared, but long ago. She understood him, knew him. A face rose before her, but all jumbled as though she looked at it through a kaleidoscope. Eyes, chin, nose, cheeks, all split up into triangles and rhomboids, making the face as inscrutable as a Picasso painting.

She gave up.

Halfway through the chicken cordon bleu, she stopped, fork stalled two inches from her mouth. Why does he care whether I recognize him? What is this rapport I sense? Is there some deep, dark secret I should know? Oh my God, is he my long-lost brother?


About the Author

Although M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents, the last thirty years were spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director, and parent. After many years in 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.

Ms. Spencer has published ten romantic suspense novels, and has two more in utero. She has two fabulous grown children and an incredible granddaughter. She divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

Contacts

Blog: http://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/msspencerromance

Twitter: www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor

GoodReads:http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/

Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+MSSpencerauthor

Linked in: www.linkedin.com/in/msspencerauthor

My calendar of events can be found here:
Romance Books 4 Us: http://www.romancebooks4us.com/M.S._Spencer.html OR
http://bit.ly/1d6ehza

M.S. Spencer sits down for an #AuthorInterview

My guest today is fellow Wild Rose Press author M.S. Spencer, whose latest romantic suspense Whirlwind Romance released August 17, 2016. Ms. Spencer is a very busy and prolific author, and she's going to tell us a little about past and upcoming releases. Please welcome M.S. Spencer!

Was there anything unusual, any anecdote about this book you’d like to share?

Paraiso, the island in Whirlwind Romance, is based on a real island in the western Caribbean that I discovered—how else?—mucking around on the internet. Called Providencia, it forms an archipelago with two other islands, San Andres and Santa Catalina, and five uninhabited atolls. Currently under the Colombian flag, it has been the ruled by an incredible variety of groups, from Henry Morgan the notorious buccaneer, to Spanish Conquistadors, Dutch traders, even English Puritans. The Puritans were the first to settle there in 1629 (native tribes only visited), eventually turning to the slave trade and smuggling for survival. I wonder how the fire and brimstone Puritan ministers dealt with that?

Do you have any unusual writing habits?

No odder than most writers, I’ll wager. I pace a lot; scratch at imaginary bits on my arms; dust way more often than I need to; and play 1000s of games of Solitaire when I should be writing. Or surf news sites.

What genre have you never written that you’d like to write?

I’m pretty comfortable with my cozy mysteries & romantic suspense stories. I have some lovely unpublished children’s stories I’d like to find homes for someday.

Did you always want to be a writer?

Always. Started writing poems with sidewalk chalk at maybe the age of three.

Do you work on more than one book at a time?

Only if I’m waiting on an edit or galley & it’s taking awhile. Right now I have 3 books in draft. If I’m in a new setting I’m sorely tempted to start a story based on that setting. I was at a book event in Amelia Island, Florida and loved the history and culture so much I whipped off a first draft before I forgot the feel of the place. I had to set aside the Ghost Hotel, a wonderful mystery set on Longboat Key, to do it. But hey, strike while the plot is thick, eh?

When were you first published and how did that happen? Was it a long or short journey?

I wrote the first draft of my first book long-hand in I believe 2006. Since I was first an editor, I edited that darn book until it cried. I submitted it and 6 months later a Harlequin affiliate rejected it. Thank God. My second try produced an acquisitions editor who took the time to edit my book. Even though she couldn’t accept the manuscript, she gave me hope and the third try was a winner. Who knew that it would take two more years to see the book in print?

How many books do you have under the proverbial bed? Will they ever see the light of day?

I wrote one full novel years ago—a murder mystery set in Yorktown, Virginia. I like to think that it was not the reason the agent who reviewed it decided to leave the profession. Although one must wonder about karma when my husband threw out the ONE copy I had of it. By mistake. Right.

Tell us a bit about you. Where do you live, and how long have you been writing?

I live most of the year on the Gulf Coast of Florida, on a barrier island, and the rest in a tiny village on Penobscot Bay in Maine. Yes, it is idyllic and I count myself extremely lucky, even though it means my children are far away. I began writing when I was first able to pick up a piece of chalk and haven’t stopped. My first book was published in 2009.

Do you have any pets? Are you cat person or a dog person? Or are you into totally different pets, like goldfish? What do you like best about your pet?

I have had many pets in my life—at one time counting a dog, 3 cats, a gerbil, a goldfish, and a snake as part of the household. I’m mainly a cat person, because dogs, while lovable companions, make me feel guilty. Am I walking him enough? Paying him enough attention? Training him properly? I would have a cat now, but I can’t let him outside and that, to me, is cruel and unnatural.

If money were not an object, where would you most like to live? Why?

Probably in Edrigu’s castle, where Lacey & Armand hide and make love in Whirlwind Romance, my new romantic adventure. It is perched on a hill above a tiny Caribbean island far in the western Caribbean and has a rock-hewn pool. And turrets. And coral reefs.

How do you choose the names and physical characteristics of your characters? Do you base them on real people?

I try to vary the physical characteristics of my hero and heroine from book to book, and keep a file to make sure I haven’t made them too much alike. My first draft usually has /name/ throughout until I get a real sense of who the characters are. I have a list of names I like, and check those; also I check ethnic name lists for suitable names. Each inhabitant of Paraiso in Whirlwind Romance sports 4 names—from 4 of the many cultures that passed through the island leaving progeny. I try to connect the meaning to the character—thus the farmer is named Gorka (Basque for farmer) , and the First Secretary  of Paraiso is named Edrigu (Council Commander) Boudewijn (Princely Friend) Proctor (one of the Puritans who settled Paraiso).

How can readers reach you or find you online?

Blog: http://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/msspencerromance
Twitter: www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor
Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+MSSpencerauthor
GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/
Linked in: www.linkedin.com/in/msspencerauthor

AUTHOR PAGES:

GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer

Amazon Author Page:
http://www.amazon.com/M.S.-Spencer/e/B002ZOEUC8/

Romance Books 4 Us: http://romancebooks4us.com/Romance%20Author%20M.%20S.%20Spencer.html OR
http://bit.ly/1d6ehza

Tell us a little about your current work in progress.

I’m in the final draft of a murder mystery romance set on Longboat Key, Florida. Tentatively entitled The Pit and the Passion: Murder at the Ghost Hotel, it takes place on the spot where John Ringling began building a luxurious hotel in the 1920s. Left to slowly disintegrate over the decades, it inevitably came to be called the Ghost Hotel.

Here’s the blurb:
At midnight, in the darkness of a deserted hotel, comes a splash and a scream. Eighty-five years later workmen uncover a skeleton. Who does it belong to, and how did it get to the bottom of an old elevator shaft? To find out, Charity Snow,  reporter for the Longboat Key Planet, must team up with Rancor Bass, best-selling author whose arrogance nearly exceeds his talent.

Along with a drop-dead gorgeous editor and a publisher with a dark family secret, they discover an unexpected link to the most famous circus family in the world.

Tell us about your next release.

Lapses of Memory will be released in early 2017 by The Wild Rose Press. It’s a novel in which two romances intertwine as a mother recounts her life-long love affair while her daughter juggles two lovers.

Sydney Bellek first meets Elian Davies in the 1950s on a Boeing 377 Stratocruiser when she is five and he is seven. They run into each other every few years after that, but while he knows from the start that she is his true love, she does not. Later, as rival journalists, they vie for scoops on international crises from the Iranian revolution to the Lebanese civil war. The handsome and intrepid Elian beats her out at every turn, even while keeping his love for her secret.

Only after years of separation does she finally realize they are meant to be together, but this time, in a twist of fate, it is Elian whose memory of her is gone. Will he remember her before she loses heart or will their new love be enough to replace the old one?
Meanwhile, her daughter Olivia has her own dilemma—how to choose between the rich and dashing Rémy de Beaumec, who wants to take her around the world, and the steady, quiet, American-to-the-core, Benjamin Knox, who only wants to make her happy.

Here's M.S. Spencer's most recent release (she's a very busy writer!) WHIRLWIND ROMANCE:

Pirates, Puritans, propaganda, and princes—pieces of the puzzle in the whirlwind romance between a beautiful jelly maker and a mysterious castaway.

Whirlwind Romance
Wild Rose Press, 8/17/2016, Champagne Rose imprint
Contemporary romance/Action Adventure; M/F; 2 flames
Ebook 89,905 words; Print: 358 p.

Blurb:

In the aftermath of a hurricane, Lacey Delahaye finds herself marooned on an island on the Gulf coast of Florida with a mysterious man. They are immediately drawn to each other, but before Armand can confess his identity, they are kidnapped and taken to a tiny island in the western Caribbean. With the help of her son Crispin and a cadre of loyal followers, she and Armand must face down pirates, power-mad ideologues, and palace intrigue, if they are to restore the once idyllic tropical island to its former glory.


Excerpt: 

The full moon shone through the window, illuminating Lacey’s nodding head. Armand touched her cheek. “I think it’s your bedtime.”

Stung, she shot back, “I’m taking care of you, remember?”

He held up a hand. “Sorry! I’d forgotten.” After a moment, he asked, his tone diffident, “Can you help me up?”

Lacey put an arm around his back and together they limped to Crispin’s room. She took his pants and shirt off and folded them neatly. As she turned to leave, he touched her arm. “Stay a minute?”

How could she admit she had to get out of there quickly or she wouldn’t be able to go at all? His handsome face—the strong chin covered with stubble, the pearly teeth contrasting with his tan skin, not to mention the long, graceful fingers he held out to her—all conspired to lure her closer. Her heart led the way, propelling her to his side. She sat down. “What is it?”

“Lacey…um.”

Her body tensed as desire fought to get out, and she fought just as hard to keep it in. I have to go. I have to…go. “What?”

His words came out in a rush. “Lacey, the other day—the first night—when you rescued me. When we…we…”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Christ.

“I…uh…want you to know I don’t do that on a regular basis.”

His air of shy ambivalence gave her courage. “I see. You don’t have sex on a regular basis?”

“No, no, it’s not that.” He stopped, flustered. “Er, I mean… I don’t sleep with women indiscriminately.”

Should she let him off the hook? Nah. “But you do sleep with a lot of women?”

“No! Lacey, you’re being difficult on purpose. I meant, that I didn’t mean to…you know. It just happened. Forgive me?”

“I—”

Armand interrupted her. “Not that it wasn’t enjoyable.” He seemed distracted, running a finger down her arm. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Too short.” He peered at her. “Lacey, you must know how beautiful you are. You have the most perfect cheekbones I’ve ever seen.”

“Cheekbones?” What the hell is he talking about?

“I’m an amateur photographer. Those cheekbones could belong to a supermodel. Perfectly sculpted. And your nose…” He tapped the tip. “A little pixie nose. It even turns up slightly. Your long, fine hair is the russet-gold of burnished copper pots I once saw piled high in a shop on Martinique. Your eyes…” He closed his. “Your eyes are the blue-green of a freshly mowed cricket field, of the emeralds that grow deep in the mountains, of the lagoon near my home on a blustery day.” He touched her hand. “Then there’s your body—as I remember it—a soft, comfortable, pillowy—”

“Hey!” Lacey shook her head to break the spell. “I think you’ve said enough. Get some sleep.”

She tried to rise, but he slipped his arms around her and drew her close. She wanted to struggle. She tried to struggle. It was no use. The long kiss filled her with a warmth that matched a fire on a cold night, a cup of cocoa, or a hot bath. When he lay back, the warmth turned to blazing passion. The power of it frightened her. I’ve got to go. She ran out of the room before he could stop her.


Buy Links:

TWRP: http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/4470-whirlwind-romance.html

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Whirlwind-Romance-M-S-Spencer-ebook/dp/B01HLSSS3Y/

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Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/whirlwind-romance-0

ITunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/whirlwind-romance/id1137681038?mt=11

About the Author:

Although M. S. Spencer has lived or travelled in five of the seven continents, the last thirty years were spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director, and parent. After many years in 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 in Alexandria, Virginia.

Ms. Spencer has published ten romantic suspense and murder mystery novels. She has two fabulous grown children and an incredible granddaughter. She divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

Other Books by M. S. Spencer:

A Widow’s Walk: Catherine’s Dilemma

Dear Philomena: Love, Lust & Murder on Chincoteague Island

Triptych

Exquisite Christmas: 21 Romance Authors Share Holiday Stories & Recipes

Mai Tais and Mayhem

The Penhallow Train Incident

The Mason’s Mark: Love and Death in the Tower

Whirlwind Romance

Coming 2017:
Lapses of Memory

My calendar of events can be found here:
Romance Books 4 Us: http://romancebooks4us.com/Romance%20Author%20M.%20S.%20Spencer.html OR
http://bit.ly/1d6ehza

#NewRelease from M.S. Spencer!

My guest today is M.S. Spencer, whose romantic suspense, THE MASON'S MARK: LOVE AND DEATH IN THE TOWER, releases today. Here she is to tell us where the idea for her newest release came from.

The Mason's Mark: Love and Death in the Tower, arose in part out of a true story. Starting in the 1940s an Italian named Licio Gelli embarked on a lifetime of bizarre scams and crimes. Alternately linked to rightists and leftists, he bilked or used people from Italian politicians, to the Nazis, the Communists, the CIA, even to Juan Peron, dictator of Argentina. His exploits cross the globe and spanned four decades. At last check, he was still alive, in his nineties and writing poetry from prison. In 1996 he was even nominated for the Nobel prize in literature.

Gelli is most famous for founding a Masonic lodge called Propaganda Due, a renegade group that was first dissolved, then reinstated, then erased by the Grand Orient de Italia. He had ensnared many prominent Italians into P2, which ultimately led to several huge scandals.  He is the model for the shadowy puppetmaster in my new romantic suspense novel The Mason's Mark: Love and Death in the Tower (an Old Town Romance). Here's a summary:

In both the best and worst first day at work ever, docent Claire Wilding meets the man of her dreams, but her carefully rehearsed guided tour of the George Washington National Masonic Memorial collapses when she discovers a body and is drawn into a dark world of black ops and Italian renegade masons, of secret cabals and hidden treasure. Also cloaked in mystery is handsome Gideon Bliss, a George Washington expert who haunts the Memorial, his manner evasive. What is his secret? Claire fears she'll fall in love with him only to learn he's a thief or even a murderer. Juggling two eccentric mothers, an inquisitive sister, and an increasingly smitten detective, Claire must find answers to a complex web of intrigue, including who to trust and who to love.

The Mason's Mark: Love and Death in the Tower (an Old Town Romance)
Wild Rose Press, May 6, 2016 (Crimson Rose imprint)
Mystery/Cozy Mystery, Romantic suspense
ebook 79,000 words; print 322 pp.
M/F;  3 flames

Buy Links:

TWRP ~ iBooks ~ Barnes and Noble ~ All Romance Ebooks ~ Amazon ~ Bookstrand ~ Kobo

Excerpt (PG):  First Meeting

“Next we’ll be visiting a museum devoted to George Washington. The Masonic Memorial houses an impressive collection of artifacts, some of which were donated by the Washington family and some rescued from the fire in 1871 that destroyed the first lodge. Please be sure to check out Dr. Elisha Cullen Dick’s pocket watch. He was George Washington’s close friend and presided over his death bed.”

As they filed out on the fourth floor and automatically turned right as all human flocks do, Claire surveyed the room. The black and white parquet floor sparkled. Around three sides ran a balcony, filled with small alcoves and paintings. The light from a porthole window flooded the room. As she headed toward a bust of George Washington, a shadow moved behind a column. She took a step toward it, but Mrs. Malloy’s voice stopped her. “Frank, Luther—you be good, hear? I’m gonna sit down for a bit.”

Claire watched, horror-struck, as the woman plunked down on the Chippendale chair Washington had used as Worshipful Master of the Lodge. The yellow tape meant to prevent access to it lay in tatters on the floor. She had lunged forward, one hand stretched out to grab the transgressor, when the shadow flitted across her vision again. Feeling like a spectator at a tennis match, she spun around. There. Shaking a finger at the woman and barking “No!” in her most imperious voice, she rounded a pillar. Sure enough, a man stood there by a small bookcase built into the wall.

During Claire’s training, Mr. Quinn had ground into her the absolute prohibition against unauthorized individuals wandering around in the Tower. Oh God, I hope I don’t have to call for backup. “Sir? Can I help you?”

The man jumped and turned to her, his eyes wide, giving Claire the opportunity to admire two very large orbs tinted a luminous tourmaline green. His mobile face sported a Roman nose of reasonable proportion, a strong chin only slightly marred by a salt-and-pepper stubble, and the high cheekbones of an Aztec chief. His tan was not so deep as to seem artificial. Claire had raised her eyes to behold a head of wavy, chocolate brown hair when he began to speak. His sonorous baritone—a cross between Dean Martin and Elvis Presley—captivated her and she found herself humming “That’s Amore” under her breath.

“No, thank you…er…” He peered at her chest. Her hand went protectively to the bosom that drew most eligible bachelors’ attention until she realized he was trying to read her name badge.

“Um…Claire. Claire Wilding. I’m the docent here.” She indicated her troops, at least two of whom were attempting to wreak irreparable damage on each other with a wooden staff carved in the likeness of John the Baptist. “Who are you?”

He smiled suddenly, revealing brilliant white teeth. His whole face lit up, and Claire swallowed hard.
“I’m Gideon Bliss. And in case you’re wondering whether I’m here lawfully, the answer is yes.” He stuck out a large hand, calluses prominent on his trigger finger. They reminded Claire of her father’s hands. “David—Mr. Comfrey—gave me permission to visit the museum.” His eyes glinted with little flecks of gold and humor.

Claire found herself at a loss for words and not just because he’d invoked the name of the Worshipful Master of the Alexandria-Washington Masonic Lodge. She sank into the depths of his verdant eyes, while the mellifluous voice rolled over her. Just before she nodded off, he stopped speaking. She shook herself. “Oh, I see. Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Sheesh, Claire, are you shooting for the most pitiful female in Washington award?

Bliss hadn’t moved. “You say you’re the docent here? Could you help me find something?”

Claire dropped her eyes and mumbled, “Uh…”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Um…this is my first day. I…I doubt if I can help you.”

He chuckled. “So you didn’t actually mean anything by your first question.”

“My first…Oh, well, you know, that was sort of…rhetorical. I mean, no one is supposed to be here. Other than me. And of course them.” She waved at the group, who had now begun to congregate by the elevator doors. All except for the two boys, who were nowhere to be seen, and their mother, who continued to sprawl blithely on the President’s priceless antique chair.

Her abrupt answer seemed to annoy Bliss. “I see.” He turned back to the bookcase and pulled a large, dusty leather tome off the shelf. Claire spent a painful second staring at his rigid back and finally tore herself away, visions of emerald eyes filled with admiration at her beauty quickly evaporating.

****
If readers like the Mason's Mark, they might also want to check out The Penhallow Train Incident, also from the Wild Rose Press.

About the Author

Although she has lived or traveled in every continent except Antarctica and Australia (bucket list), M. S. Spencer has spent the last thirty years mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director and parent. Blessed with two fabulous grown children, she has published ten romantic suspense/mystery novels. She now divides her time between the Florida Gulf coast and a tiny hamlet in Maine.

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