Chances Are

The line between friends and lovers can get a little blurry…especially when you add tequila.Gabby is serious about her search for Mr. Right, but no one can say she hasn't had a good time looking. She enjoys her numerous dates and the sex that comes with them. Until she finds herself falling for the one man she vows to never love. Her best friend and roommate, Justin. A player in every sense of the word-and a reminder of her awful past.One night, with the help of a bottle of tequila, things get a little too hot for comfort. She moves out, intent on removing him from the line of temptation.Justin has different plans. The tequila did more than just change how he sees his good friend. It made him realize he doesn't want to be just friends any more. He's ready for something more intimate, and he'll do whatever it takes to find out why she's running. And convince her to stay. Shelli is a New York Times Bestselling Author who read her first romance novel when she snatched it off her mother's bookshelf at the age of eleven. One taste and she was forever hooked. It wasn't until many years later that she decided to pursue writing stories of her own. By then she acknowledged the voices in her head didn't make her crazy, they made her a writer.Shelli currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her daughter where she writes various genres of romance. She's a compulsive volunteer, and has been known to spontaneously burst into song. Each story follows three friends from San Francisco and their struggles with life and love.

Meet Chance:"I'm Chance, this is my place. You want me; this is where you can find me."The problem with that, of course, was that it wasn't my name. My name was actually Aaron Dumont.I picked up the name Chance as a kid when my grandma kept telling me "Chances are you'll come to no good, just like your pa." She had said it so often, it just kind of stuck. I've been Chance ever since. When she passed away and left me the remains of her estate, I sold everything but a few special items then invested it all in a nest egg for a rainy day.I figured that's what she'd intended it for anyway. She'd said as soon as I joined the police force back in the eighties. "Chances are you'll come to no good there. It's a dangerous job and you're an accident waiting to happen."She was right too.E Somewhere in a small town in up-state New York are a librarian and a second grade teacher to whom I owe my life. That might be a touch dramatic, but it's nevertheless one hundred percent true.Because they taught me the joy of reading, of escaping into worlds crafted of words.Have you ever been nine years old and sure of nothing so much as that you don't belong? Looked at the world from behind glasses, and wondered why you don't fit?Then turn the page and see… there you are, running from Injun Joe in a dark graveyard; there you are fencing with Athos; there you are…beneath the deep blue sea- marveling at exotic creatures with Captain Nemo.I found myself between the pages of books, and that is why I write now, it's why I taught English and literature for so many years, and it's why my house contains more pounds of books than furniture.If I'd had my way, I'd have been a fencer…or a starship captain, or a lawyer, or a detective solving crimes. But instead, I am a writer, and that's the best thing in the world to be if you ask me, because as a writer, I can be all those things and more.If I hadn't learned to value the stories between the pages, who knows what would have happened? Certainly not college…teaching…or writing.

ExcerptInto my bar, at ten o'clock on a Saturday night strolled a man I'd thought I never would see again. I sat up a little straighter and my hand clenched so tight around my snifter of whiskey I was surprised it wasn't immediately crushed. There was no mistaking the miserable bastard.If I hadn't recognized the fine black hair, straight and newly streaked with silver at the temples, if the blue eyes hadn't pierced my soul to the quick in a brutal assault, if the tall lanky figure weren't so very familiar, I'd still have known him.Because my body recognized him. My heart raced, my blood heated, and the dick that had been completely un-swayed by Rory's charm the other day hammered against the zip of my jeans in immediate demand.His gaze swept the room and a silent hush seemed to follow in its wake. Blue eyes settled on me, and he strode confidently forward. I remembered every tiny detail of his face: thin aquiline nose, narrow lips, tight jaw. When his eyes met mine they heated and sparkled and I fought to stay still, to stay on my stool. Leaping up and running forward to embrace my ex wasn't going to happen.He stopped at Rory's stool next to me, and I shouldn't have been surprised when his hand fell on my thigh. I was proud of the fact that I neither jumped nor flinched when a thin fingered hand squeezed my thigh through my jeans. I didn't have the strength to push him away-never that, but I didn't react the way he thought I would, and I marked that up as a point in favor of my having learned at least some of the harsh lessons this guy had taught me.The heat of his touch disturbed me; the equilibrium his very appearance had thrown off balance spun out of control. I heaved a deep, relieved breath when he broke eye contact with me and turned to Gerry. "I'll take a scotch on the rocks."Gerry nodded, and I could see the curiosity in his youthful face, but I didn't have the wherewithal to explain. Instead I gathered enough of my inner reserves to speak. "Cannon. Long time."He sat on the stool and smiled at me. "I'm divorced. And out. Told my family. Hazel was justifiably upset, hence the divorce. Craig didn't give a shit; he still hates me and probably always will. Seth... Seth wants to meet you."That last bit caught me taking a steadying sip from my glass and ended with me choking on it. "What?"He ignored my question while I took another fortifying drink. "Told my bosses. Turns out as long as I'm not flirting with the patients on the operating table, they don't care. Or can't legally care, which amounts to the same thing in the long run.""Cannon..." What the fuck?"Those were the things you asked of me, Aaron. You said when I was single and out to come and find you. Here I am." He stared at me expectantly. Somewhere in a small town in up-state New York are a librarian and a second grade teacher to whom I owe my life. That might be a touch dramatic, but it's nevertheless one hundred percent true.Because they taught me the joy of reading, of escaping into worlds crafted of words.Have you ever been nine years old and sure of nothing so much as that you don't belong? Looked at the world from behind glasses, and wondered why you don't fit?Then turn the page and see… there you are, running from Injun Joe in a dark graveyard; there you are fencing with Athos; there you are…beneath the deep blue sea- marveling at exotic creatures with Captain Nemo.I found myself between the pages of books, and that is why I write now, it's why I taught English and literature for so many years, and it's why my house contains more pounds of books than furniture.If I'd had my way, I'd have been a fencer…or a starship captain, or a lawyer, or a detective solving crimes. But instead, I am a writer, and that's the best thing in the world to be if you ask me, because as a writer, I can be all those things and more.If I hadn't learned to value the stories between the pages, who knows what would have happened? Certainly not college…teaching…or writing.

Haunted from his years of service to The West Africa Squadron, where he endeavored to stop the trafficking of slaves, Captain Malcolm Westbourne is assigned to the disappearances of orphans in England.Miss Katherine Ashby is thrilled when Malcolm arrives to protect her orphans, but her happiness is short-lived when he insists on an explanation of why she rejected his courtship a year ago. Katherine is falling in love with Malcolm, but must confront what happened to her as a child if she desires a future with him.Malcolm had never experienced the instant attraction he felt when first being introduced to Katherine, but he also sees the fear in her eyes. He pursues her with kindness, humor, and patience in an attempt to gain her trust.When Malcolm's investigation turns deadly, he, too, must face the demons of his past. Will Katherine and he break free from the shackles binding them and learn to trust each other, or will they be held prisoner to the past forever?CHANCE FOR FREEDOM is Book 2 in the Chances Are Series. Each book stands alone, but might be more enjoyable read in sequence. I live near Houston, Texas, with my real-life hero and two wonderful children.

Lady Emma Easton's elopement to an elderly earl shields her from an abusive father, until her husband's death leaves her vulnerable once again. Only one man can protect her-the earl's trusted friend, Viscount Drake.After losing his wife, Lord Drake vows never to marry again. But his heart warms to the young widow he's promised to protect. Emma's love frees him from the darkness that's consumed him. But now Drake must protect her from her father's evil whims, or face losing her forever.SECOND CHANCES is Book 1 in the Chances Are Series. Each book stands alone, but might be more enjoyable read in sequence. I live near Houston, Texas, with my real-life hero and two wonderful children.

Long ago, Delanie made one gigantic mistake. Or committed one small felony, depending on how you look at it. Stealing a coin from a sexy stranger was just a prank to help a sorority sister get revenge. The sleeping with him part was totally unplanned. Yet she holds the memory of that one intense, passionate connection close to her heart--like the coin she still wears around her neck.Six years later, she's invited to a beautiful resort in the San Juan Islands to not only accept a donation for an abused women's shelter, but to consider a job opportunity as well.Instead, she finds herself face-to-face with her past.Grant has always suspected Delanie stole his rare, lucky coin. He just never knew why--or why she disappeared the morning after their hot night together. After spending years looking for her, he's lured her right where he wants her. He'll have his answers, come hell or high water.And, if things go his way, he'll have Delanie, too. Shelli is a New York Times Bestselling Author who read her first romance novel when she snatched it off her mother's bookshelf at the age of eleven. One taste and she was forever hooked. It wasn't until many years later that she decided to pursue writing stories of her own. By then she acknowledged the voices in her head didn't make her crazy, they made her a writer.Shelli currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her daughter where she writes various genres of romance. She's a compulsive volunteer, and has been known to spontaneously burst into song. Each story follows three friends from San Francisco and their struggles with life and love.

Tortured by memories of things he's done and witnessed while protecting the helpless and saving lives, Mr. Silas Green relinquishes his post with the Royal Navy to fulfill his father's dying wish by escorting his sisters to their mother's Scottish homeland.A bit in awe of Mr. Green, the man who rescued her from being sold into slavery, Miss Celeste Young also senses his soul-deep pain. When he asks her to become a companion to his blind sister and accompany his family on a journey, Celeste seizes the opportunity to escape London and the men eagerly seeking to become her protector.The undeniable attraction between Silas and Celeste develops into a tender friendship. The more time they spend together, the more his torturous memories ease and his pain lessens. But dangerous secrets await them in Scotland. When Celeste's life is threatened, it is up to Silas to save her or lose his last chance at love.LAST CHANCE is Book 3 in the Chances Are Series. Each book stands alone, but might be more enjoyable read in sequence. I live near Houston, Texas, with my real-life hero and two wonderful children.

I waved Gerry over, anxious to get back to Rory. It wasn't the idea of sex either. Sure, he was waiting naked in bed, but I just wanted to hold him and-I grabbed the tray of pinchos-eat snacks in bed and watch television and talk like all these other people did every night. "Comp Darrin's tab and call him a cab when it's time to go home. I need to get back upstairs. Thanks for stopping by to tell me about this, Darrin." I squeezed his shoulder and slid off my barstool.I had just put my foot on the bottom step when a tide of energy swept me up. Loud voices and audible urgency filled the room. I spun around, caught in the moment. An ashen faced young man, one I didn't really recognize but thought I'd seen with Gerry in the past, clutched the bar and whispered urgently. Gerry's face paled and he sought my gaze. I moved toward them by instinct, saw Darrin drop his half-eaten burger and rise as well."What is it?" We hemmed the young man in between us and the bar, and I could tell right off that he didn't like that. He kept looking at the front door, and it couldn't have been more obvious that he wanted desperately to run. Disregarding his obvious discomfort, I reached across his shoulder to put the tray of food on the bar."There's a body in your bathroom." Somewhere in a small town in up-state New York are a librarian and a second grade teacher to whom I owe my life. That might be a touch dramatic, but it's nevertheless one hundred percent true.Because they taught me the joy of reading, of escaping into worlds crafted of words.Have you ever been nine years old and sure of nothing so much as that you don't belong? Looked at the world from behind glasses, and wondered why you don't fit?Then turn the page and see… there you are, running from Injun Joe in a dark graveyard; there you are fencing with Athos; there you are…beneath the deep blue sea- marveling at exotic creatures with Captain Nemo.I found myself between the pages of books, and that is why I write now, it's why I taught English and literature for so many years, and it's why my house contains more pounds of books than furniture.If I'd had my way, I'd have been a fencer…or a starship captain, or a lawyer, or a detective solving crimes. But instead, I am a writer, and that's the best thing in the world to be if you ask me, because as a writer, I can be all those things and more.If I hadn't learned to value the stories between the pages, who knows what would have happened? Certainly not college…teaching…or writing.

A Chances Are story.Phoebe's work at Second Chances, a women's shelter, has gone a long way toward her own healing after surviving an abusive relationship in college. She's moved on in every sense-except when it comes to dating.Everything changes when Craig visits the shelter. The hot, young cop sets her pulse racing in a way that makes her consider making a move-and moving him into her bed for a casual fling. The first step: ask him out. Subtly, of course.Craig has been attracted to Phoebe for months, so he's more than happy for the chance to get to know her better, in bed and out. His interest goes way beyond casual, but convincing her to think long term is going to take some time.When it becomes clear her violent ex has come out of the woodwork, though, time is the one thing they don't have… Shelli is a New York Times Bestselling Author who read her first romance novel when she snatched it off her mother's bookshelf at the age of eleven. One taste and she was forever hooked. It wasn't until many years later that she decided to pursue writing stories of her own. By then she acknowledged the voices in her head didn't make her crazy, they made her a writer.Shelli currently lives in the Pacific Northwest with her daughter where she writes various genres of romance. She's a compulsive volunteer, and has been known to spontaneously burst into song. Each story follows three friends from San Francisco and their struggles with life and love.

Chance thought he knew true heartache when Cannon walked out on him. He finds out how wrong he is when current lover Rory decides he's done waiting for Chance to return his love.After two months of seeking amnesia in the bottom of a bottle, Chance is on the verge of resurrecting the protective shell that kept his emotions safe for so long. Then the past comes knocking on his door again, and he Somewhere in a small town in up-state New York are a librarian and a second grade teacher to whom I owe my life. That might be a touch dramatic, but it's nevertheless one hundred percent true.Because they taught me the joy of reading, of escaping into worlds crafted of words.Have you ever been nine years old and sure of nothing so much as that you don't belong? Looked at the world from behind glasses, and wondered why you don't fit?Then turn the page and see… there you are, running from Injun Joe in a dark graveyard; there you are fencing with Athos; there you are…beneath the deep blue sea- marveling at exotic creatures with Captain Nemo.I found myself between the pages of books, and that is why I write now, it's why I taught English and literature for so many years, and it's why my house contains more pounds of books than furniture.If I'd had my way, I'd have been a fencer…or a starship captain, or a lawyer, or a detective solving crimes. But instead, I am a writer, and that's the best thing in the world to be if you ask me, because as a writer, I can be all those things and more.If I hadn't learned to value the stories between the pages, who knows what would have happened? Certainly not college…teaching…or writing.