Showing posts with label Foothills Pride Series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Foothills Pride Series. Show all posts

Sunday, 17 December 2017

Short Order (Foothills Pride #8) by Pat Henshaw - Blog Tour

 
Title: Short Order
Series: Foothills Pride #8
Author: Pat Henshaw
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Publication date: December 13, 2017
Price: $3.99/£2.99
Format: eBook
Genre: Contemporary Gay Romance
Cover Design: AngstyG
Length: 28,400 words/89 pages

Add on Goodreads
 
Buy links


Blurb 

When recent horticulture graduate Dr. Fenton Miller arrives in Stone Acres, California, he thinks his only concern is which job offer to accept after spending the holidays working at his cousin’s plant nursery. But after he rents a room from another shorter-than-average man, sous-chef John Barton, Fen falls in lust. 

While he’s attracted to Fen, John’s got bigger concerns when two men from his past arrive in town and pressure him to return to San Francisco. Although John tries to stop Fen from getting involved, Fen realizes his lover is in trouble and is determined to protect him. 

As the holidays get closer and Fen makes his own enemy, the joy of the season gets lost in the ill will around them. To ensure love triumphs, Fen and John must stand tall to show that short, dark, and handsome is a recipe for love.


Guest Post:
 
  1. Where do your ideas for books come from?

I’m always reading, eavesdropping, looking around, soaking up impressions of people, places, and things around me. I like to sit in coffee shops and restaurants and imagine what the other people there are like and what they’re talking about. I can make up a story at the drop of a hat. One of the most fun times I had doing that was when my grandchildren and I were taking a train ride that was exciting to them at first, but grew boring with time. So I took a box of candy from my grandson and began explaining the personalities of the various pieces of candy. I had a great time, and since he and his sister seemed to be listening and adding to the stories, I think they had a good time too.

  1. Where did the idea for this book come from?

Two very different news stories prompted the plot for Short Order. The first came years ago when I read a very short article in the San Francisco Bay Guardian about a prostitution ring that had recently been shut down. That’s the seed from which John’s story emerged. Fen’s ideas about improving the lives of the poor by putting plants in public schools and giving students responsibilities and information for keeping those plants alive came from a press release I read online. I think I also saw a TED talk about plants for improving poor environments, but I wouldn’t swear to that. How those two stories came together and produced a book is a mystery to me, but it happened.

  1. What was the hardest thing about writing your latest book?

I write gay romance, not gay mysteries or gay exposé. My books dwell on happily ever, not in rehashing the horrible things that people do to other people, and certainly not about what adults do to children. But John’s past as an unwilling prostitute in San Francisco when he’s rejected by his family is a big part of the story. It was also the most painful part for me to write about. But since it’s an integral part of what shaped John, I had to gut up and write it.

  1. How long on average does it take you to write a book?

Depends on what I’m writing. It takes me three or four months to write a novella-length piece, a couple of months for a short story, and a year to write a novel. I take a lot of time to read and reread what I’ve written, and it takes a while for my husband to read and comment on the current project. Then I’m back to the drawing board making changes and tweaking, always tweaking what I’ve written. I used to be much faster at writing, but not anymore.

  1. Tell us a little about the Foothills Pride series.

The Foothills Pride series was a complete fluke. I wrote What’s in a Name? initially as a stand-alone novella. But then got an idea for Redesigning Max. Someone at Dreamspinner asked me what the name of the series was at that point, and since I thought the books were stand-alones set in the same fictional community, I was stymied. I came up with the name Foothills Pride since there was a defunct group with that name in the real area where I’d placed my fictional town. Suddenly I could think of other stories that happened in the town, and the series was born. Each of the stories stands alone and is about a couple getting together in town. The books break down like this:

What’s in a Name? On his birthday, barista Jimmy Patterson is rescued by bartender Guy Stone after Jimmy’s boyfriend dumps him.

Redesigning Max Famed designer Fredi Zimmer agrees to redesign sporting goods retailer Max Greene’s wilderness cabin and in the process lures Max himself.

Behr Facts Contractor Abe Behr knows a relative is ripping him off and hires accountant Jeff Mason who balances his books, finds the culprit, and steals Abe’s heart.

When Adam Fell Celebrity chef Adam de Leon retreats from the Bay Area to get away from his druggie lover. But David Fairbanks appears saying he’s kicked the habit and wants Adam back.

Relative Best Hotel owner Zeke Bandy is smitten with Native American Vic Longbow when Vic comes to town looking for his roots.

Frank at Heart Hardware store owner Frank McCord falls for software designer Christopher Darling who moves to town with his teenage son after a divorce.

Waking the Behr Contractor Ben Behr finds he isn’t as straight as he’s always thought he was when San Francisco entrepreneur Mitch O’Shea sweeps him off his feet.

Short Order Fen Miller comes to Stone Acres to help his cousin Beth during the holidays and falls for his landlord, sous chef John Barton.


Excerpt 

That night I stood freezing at Barton’s door, admiring Blue Cottage. The snow drifts piled on the lawn made the house look greeting-card perfect. I searched for a doorbell. Instead, a lion-headed knocker snarled at me. I grinned. Every house needed an intimidating guardian, right? 

A man who looked about my age and height opened the door and slipped out, shutting it behind him. I was curious to see inside, but I got that the guy wanted his privacy. No problem. 

“Hi. I’m Fen.” 

He looked me over, then turned to the left along the shoveled porch. As he walked, he played with the keyring, bouncing a key in his hand. Did I make him nervous? If so, was that a good thing? 

“This way.” 

Okay. I took a breath and followed his pert ass and brisk steps as we rounded the porch to a steep staircase. From my brief glance at his face, he seemed okay. I was still slightly put off by his brusque manner. But hey, I reminded myself, I was renting from him, not fucking him. 

In silence I followed him up to a small porch and a solid-looking back door, which he opened after only a little fumbling. 

I was greeted by the stuffy, closed-up odor of a place long left undisturbed. 

“You’d be my first renter. It’s furnished, but I can store anything you don’t want.” He made quick eye contact with me. The words erupted from him like I made him uncomfortable or something. Maybe it was my piercing and the tattoo, or maybe the hair color. I tried a smile, but he blushed and turned away, gesturing to the rooms. 

Even though the air inside was chilly, I looked around and fell even more in love than I had when I’d first seen the house. The 1940s era furniture and knickknacks turned what could have been sterile rooms into my kind of home. I exhaled, letting the ambience settle in my soul as I wandered through a country kitchen, tiny dining room, sitting room, two bedrooms, and a classic bathroom, ending eventually at a circular tower room. I fell even deeper in love along the way as I touched the scratched kitchen table, a velveteen-covered parlor settee, a solid-looking four-poster bed, and the needlepoint-cushioned window seat in the tower. 

If I were Barton, I’d charge thousands a month for this place. I prayed he wasn’t me and was relieved when my prayers were answered. 

“You want to keep the furniture?” He still didn’t look at me as he bent over the kitchen table to fill out the rental agreement. Who needed him staring? I could live with letting his voice pour over me and seeing his kissable lips. 

“I can’t imagine living here without all of it.” Or maybe even you, I thought, eyeing his pert butt wiggling at me as he wrote. 

He stopped, stood, and eyed me for a few seconds before bending and going back to writing. I hadn’t said that about his butt out loud, had I? 

As I was daydreaming about his ass and the scarred table, he stopped writing, looked over the form, and finally twisted it toward me. “Sign here, initial here, and date it. Then I need your rent for the month.” 

I was signing before he changed his mind. The rent was ridiculously cheap. “No deposit?” There had to be a catch, right? 

“No.” 

I glanced up. He was gazing down at the table, or maybe at my hands. Or my groin? I signed as fast as I could and wrote a check to John Barton, the name on the rental agreement. So he had a first name, and we had a deal.   


I drove back to my cousin’s house whistling. Within an hour, and with Beth and Kate’s help, I was moved in. Having only clothes and electronics made the move a one-trip job. Then I went food shopping for breakfast stuff and frozen dinners. We all celebrated by eating a late dinner outside town at a diner called the Rock Bottom Cafe. Renting a place with a wonderful kitchen hadn’t automatically taught me to cook. 

Even with an enigma for a landlord, my life was perfect.  

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About the Author

Pat Henshaw, author of the Foothills Pride Stories, has spent her life surrounded by words: Teaching English composition at the junior college level; writing book reviews for newspapers, magazines, and websites; helping students find information as a librarian; and promoting PBS television programs. Pat was born and raised in Nebraska where she promptly left the cold and snow after college, living at various times in Texas, Colorado, Northern Virginia, and Northern California. Pat enjoys travel, having visited Mexico, Canada, Europe, Nicaragua, Thailand, and Egypt, and Europe, including a cruise down the Danube. Her triumphs are raising two incredible daughters who daily amaze her with their power and compassion. Fortunately, her incredibly supportive husband keeps her grounded in reality when she threatens to drift away while writing fiction.  

 
Author Social Media Links:

 

BLOG TOUR SCHEDULE


December 16
Noteworthy Book Reviews GUEST POST AND REVIEW

December 17
The Way She Reads GUEST POST

December 18

December 19

December 20

December 22
Drops of Ink GUEST POST
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Monday, 25 September 2017

Waking the Behr (Foothills Pride) by Pat Henshaw - Blog Tour

WakingCover

Book Title: Waking the Behr (A Foothills Pride Story)

Author: Pat Henshaw

Cover Artist:AngstyG

Genre: contemporary gay romance

Length: 29,689 Words/88 Pages

Release Date: September 20, 2017

WakingtheBehr_Meme17

Buy Links


Add on Goodreads

Blurb 

Both Ben and Mitch think they know exactly what they want. Turns out, they don’t even know their own hearts. 

Good old boy Ben has dated women his entire life, while gay nightclub owner Mitch has never considered unsophisticated country boys his type. But after they start hanging out, the small-town contractor and the urban entrepreneur are both stunned by the electricity sparking between them. 

As they step outside their comfort zones to spend time together, Mitch finds he enjoys rural car rallies, and Ben is intrigued by the upscale bars Mitch owns in San Francisco. When they share their lives and grow closer, they start to question the way they’ve always defined themselves. Then they kiss and fling open the door to love. Now they must step up and travel the road that may lead to happily ever after—even if that path isn’t one they ever expected to walk.


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Guest Post

Researching the Behr
By Pat Henshaw

You’d think that living would be enough for a writer to make up a fictional story. But, no, in my case, it isn’t.

I do extensive research for each of the books I’ve written, and Waking the Behr was no different. To give you an idea of what questions I ask of myself and how I answer them through research, here are four topics I wondered about and the websites that helped me fill in the details.

·         Mitch’s Rhino GX
When I started writing Waking the Behr, I knew that San Francisco entrepreneur Mitch O’Shea, who’s got an expansive personality, needed a super-sized car. I own a rare two-door Toyota RAV4 (that my co-workers used to jokingly call a RAV3 1/2), and I really don’t know much about expensive luxury cars. So I went shopping online, looking for a luxury car that a tall, flamboyant owner of four successful bars in SF would buy. He’d want something roomy enough that he didn’t feel hemmed in, and since he didn’t have to worry about parking places in the various areas where his bars were located, it could be something as big as a Hummer. But Hummers are so common, right? At the time, I was receiving emails from a group that provided links to luxury products, a Web site that’s no longer available. One of the emails I got listed a number of expensive car options. When I read about the Rhino GX, a car produced by US Specialty vehicles, one of the largest luxury SUVs available as the ad copy says, I knew Mitch would want to have one.
·         Road rally
When my brother owned his Miata in Colorado, he and his wife liked to participate in road rallies. I kind of knew the rules and what the point of a rally was, but I knew if I was going to write about it, I had to have more precise information, then fit that information into what I knew of the good-old-boys of Stone Acres who participated and ran the weekend rallies. So my first stop was to Sports Car Club of America (SCCA) where I read everything they had on rallies. I also read the rules posted online from individual groups such as the Detroit Rally Group and others. Not only were these important parts of my rally education, but they made it possible to work out what the Stone Acres rally master would throw at Ben and Mitch as they got to know each other.
·         Non-tourist San Francisco
Instead of having Mitch own only restaurants downtown in SF, I knew that he had started small in a residential area and then when that took off, moved closer to the tourist centers. Finding the right neighborhood for his first restaurant was an interesting challenge. I ended up reading sites and blogs that listed the neighborhoods with commentary about them, like the one at sanfrancisco.com. I figured that not everyone was wealthy in the city, so all I needed was to find the places where the middle class people lived. One of my favorite sites was Thrillist, which had great insights including quotes from people who lived in the neighborhoods.
·         Camping
I knew going into the story that when Ben took Mitch camping near the fictional Lake Rafi in the Sierra Nevada Mountains that a disaster would happen and both men were going to have to get involved in rectifying the situation. Having been camping quite a few times, I knew of some of the problems that could befall even seasoned campers. But I wasn’t sure which disaster fit the story. So I went to the Internet to research camping failures and horror stories. Some of these were pretty funny instead of disasters, and some were just downright creepy. In the end, I built on a story one of my fellow Girl Scout leaders told me.

The worst part of doing the research for a book, as far as I can tell, is that I can spend an entire day pouring through information on the Internet and get absolutely no writing done at all. Do you use the Web for research? If so, what kinds of things do you investigate? And where do you end up finding interesting, useful information?


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Blog Tour Schedule

WAKING THE BEHR BLOG TOUR SCHEDULE

SEPTEMBER 25
SEPTEMBER 26
SEPTEMBER 27
SEPTEMBER 28
SEPTEMBER 29
SEPTEMBER 30

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Meet the Author

81K35AAJl2L._UX250_Pat Henshaw, author of the Foothills Pride Stories, has spent her life surrounded by words: Teaching English composition at the junior college level; writing book reviews for newspapers, magazines, and websites; helping students find information as a librarian; and promoting PBS television programs. 

Pat was born and raised in Nebraska where she promptly left the cold and snow after college, living at various times in Texas, Colorado, Northern Virginia, and Northern California. Pat enjoys travel, having visited Mexico, Canada, Europe, Nicaragua, Thailand, and Egypt, and Europe, including a cruise down the Danube. 

Her triumphs are raising two incredible daughters who daily amaze her with their power and compassion. Fortunately, her incredibly supportive husband keeps her grounded in reality when she threatens to drift away while writing fiction.

Social Media Links
Blog | Website | Facebook | Twitter | Google+ | Amazon | Email

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of THREE $10 Coffee gift cards 



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Wednesday, 20 September 2017

Waking the Behr (A Foothills Pride Story) by Pat Henshaw - Release Blitz

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Book Title: Waking the Behr (A Foothills Pride Story)

Author: Pat Henshaw

Cover Artist: AngstyG

Genre: contemporary gay romance

Length: 29,689 Words/88 Pages

Release Date: September 20, 2017

WakingCover

Buy Links

Add on Goodreads

Blurb 

Both Ben and Mitch think they know exactly what they want. Turns out, they don’t even know their own hearts. 

Good old boy Ben has dated women his entire life, while gay nightclub owner Mitch has never considered unsophisticated country boys his type. But after they start hanging out, the small-town contractor and the urban entrepreneur are both stunned by the electricity sparking between them. 

As they step outside their comfort zones to spend time together, Mitch finds he enjoys rural car rallies, and Ben is intrigued by the upscale bars Mitch owns in San Francisco. When they share their lives and grow closer, they start to question the way they’ve always defined themselves. Then they kiss and fling open the door to love. Now they must step up and travel the road that may lead to happily ever after—even if that path isn’t one they ever expected to walk. 

Excerpt 

MEETING A potential client for the first time was usually a mixed bag. As a contractor and partner in Behr Construction, I never knew what I was going to get: a fanciful dreamer, an actual customer, or a combination of both. 

So I was surprised when I opened the door to the gutted restaurant and found a giant of a man twirling Julie Andrews–style. He was grinning like a loon as the light poured over him.

That should have been laughable since he was alone, but he was kickass savoring the moment. Instead of appearing loco, he struck me as a big overgrown Peter Pan. He looked so happy, I had an urge to join him, which gave me a moment of panic because I’m not an old boy who does much dancing or cavorting—in public or in private. 

“Uh, hello? Mr. O’Shea?” 

When he turned toward me, my jaw dropped. I’m sure I musta looked like the village idiot.  

The guy was unbelievably gorgeous. I don’t usually think men are good- or bad-looking. They’re men. Before that moment, I would have said men weren’t my type. But, damn! He was smoking hot. 

He looked about my height—six four or maybe a little taller—and was dressed in a classy three-piece suit with a gleaming tie tack, had one pierced ear, and wore a sparkling watch. His raven hair stood up in a tall buzz cut in front and tapered long enough to curl around his ears in back. 

But what stopped me and turned me to jelly were his wickedly merry eyes and his shit-eating grin. 

He acted like a kid who’d found Santa or the Easter Bunny. 
In the middle of the total disaster of the old Thompson’s steak house, this guy looked like he’d hit the jackpot. 

Fuck me. I’d come to a standstill and was staring at him openmouthed. Since I’m your basic laid-back good old boy, nothing usually bothered me. Now I was poleaxed. He was bewitching. Too hot for somebody like me to handle. 

He’d stopped spinning. Without missing a beat, he strode over to me with his hand held out. In the blink of an eye, he changed from the picture of kidlike excitement to a polished city businessman. 

I stood stock still, wondering what the hell had just happened. Had I hallucinated the twirling around? Maybe it was time to get away from work for a while, take a vacation, maybe go do some fishing. 
“Isn’t this place great?” he greeted me. His voice held a leftover tinge of joy. 

He didn’t look embarrassed or bothered that I’d caught him dancing around like an ass. Up close, he was even more powerfully sexy and self-assured. Face-to-face, his lively, assessing stare unnerved me. His unbridled enthusiasm wrapped around me and lifted me off my feet. 

The guy seemed to be pulling my personality and soul toward him as he decided whether I was friend or foe. Then he grinned even wider, stuck out his hand, grabbed mine, and shook like we were on the verge of becoming tight. Why did I find this move hot as fuck? 

I shook his hand, stunned, and almost wanted to run back to the alley, where I’d left my regular, easygoing self. 

His eyes brightened and his smile turned sexy, as if he’d discovered a delightfully lascivious secret. 

“Mr. Behr? May I call you Ben? I’m Mitchell O’Shea. Call me Mitch.” He squeezed my hand one more time, then dropped it. “Great space here. I’m going to buy it.” 

His hand swept up in an extravagant Vanna White gesture. I was about to tell him he couldn’t afford a vowel, much less a remodel, when he grinned and sucked me in again.

Fuck. Oddly, my body agreed with that sentiment. Why was this happening? To me, of all people. I wasn’t gay. Even a little bit. 

My brothers, Abe and Connor, had come out a while back, but everybody knew I was the straight Behr. I’d been dating girls since I was twelve (but looked sixteen). I wasn’t attracted to guys. Ever. I didn’t go for tall girls, especially ones as huge as me, so why was I attracted to a big man? 

I stepped back and gave him the once-over. My body sure as shit was a little interested. Okay, maybe more than a little. 

Like all the Behrs, I’m tall and squared off. As my grandpa always said, I’m built like a brick shithouse. A brown brick shithouse. Brown hair, brown eyes, brown tan. Nothing exotic about me. 

But this guy? This guy had dark blue eyes flecked with light blue and green. His big body was lithe, with a tapered torso, and he moved like a dancer. He hit me like a gorgeous morsel of urban life. Somebody polished and sophisticated except for a patch of boyish fun. His smile was so engaging, I figured my friends would even like him. 

My buddies had always said I was attracted to bright, shiny things. Was that all this was?

Noise from outside burst my bubble. Mitch O’Shea and I’d been standing too long staring at each other and not talking. 

Through the blush heating up my cheeks, I cleared my throat and shifted uneasily. 

“What can Behr Construction do for you, uh, Mitch?” 

There was no way under God I was asking him what I could do for him. Or to him. Or whatever. I made myself stop overthinking. Just focus. 

His grin grew, embracing me. My prick rose. Dammit. 

“I’d like you to take a look at this place’s structure and tell me if it’s sound enough to remodel. Or should I just raze it and start over again?” His voice had changed to one only board presidents and big money used around us peons. 

I took a shuddering breath. I’d dealt with hundreds of Mitches as a contractor. Estimates and suggestions I could do. 

We both turned to the dismal interior of the former steak house. I cleared my throat, then took a breath.  

“Okay. Sure.” I took a step away from him and looked up at the lung-cancer ceiling. “What do you plan to do with this place?” 

His grin tried to lasso me again, but I was onto him. I met his gaze with a frown. His eyes twinkled in response. Damn him. 

“Well, I own a bunch of clubs in San Francisco, but I’ve always wanted to start a family restaurant, kinda like Chuck E. Cheese’s but not with the costumed characters.” He fucking winked at me. “I want to start a place with an Old West theme, where parents can get a great steak for a reasonable price and kids can play old-fashioned arcade games without their folks watching them the whole time. You know, where families can come and enjoy a night out.” 

Okay, his idea wasn’t as flashy as he looked. I would have thought he’d want more Vegas—bright lights and pink cocktails—while he was thinking more Main Street, America. Thompson’s would be a great place for his vision if the Silver Star gourmet restaurant wasn’t nearby, feeding the rich and famous. 

“Uh, yeah. You did see the place across the street, right?” I thumbed toward the Star. 

He laughed, a hearty bellow of delight. 

“Oh, Chef Adam de Leon won’t be challenged by my little family place. This is a big block. Our clientele won’t overlap at all.” 

I was skeptical. We’d done some work for Adam, but I didn’t really know the guy very well. From what I’d gathered, the celebrity chef didn’t like to be messed with. Ever. Would he want chattering kids and cranky parents cluttering up the street in front of his place? 

I shrugged. “Okay. Whatever. If you give me fifteen to thirty, I’ll have a rundown of what needs to be done and write out a preliminary cost estimate so you can make up your mind.” 

He nodded as I bent my head to get an appraisal sheet and pencil from my shirt pocket.

“Oh, Ben,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away. 

I glanced at him. 

“Mind if we talk about this over lunch?” 

“Sure, no problem.” My dick was on board even if the rest of me was wary. 

“How about I meet you outside? Maybe we could drive somewhere? I bet you’ll want to try out my car.” 

I shrugged again. What’d he have? A Maserati or something? Since I’d come in through the back, I hadn’t seen him drive up. 

But I was more concerned about my reaction to him than his ride. Was it possible to turn gay? Is that what had happened to my brothers and it was just now catching up with me?

Damn. I didn’t know how I felt if that was the case. Maybe being gay was a family thing? 

I waved to him. Then, as I got one last eyeful, I shouted a piece of advice. 

“I’d lose the jacket, vest, and tie if I were you. We’re pretty laid-back around here.” 

If nothing else, he wouldn’t stick out quite as much as he would in the suit. He’d certainly attract the single gay men the way he was dressed. I didn’t need… competition? 

Shit, what was I thinking? 

Read more at Dreamspinner Press

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Release Blitz Schedule

WAKING THE BEHR RB SCHEDULE

SEPTEMBER 20
SEPTEMBER 21
SEPTEMBER 22

Meet the Author 

81K35AAJl2L._UX250_Pat Henshaw, author of the Foothills Pride Stories, has spent her life surrounded by words: Teaching English composition at the junior college level; writing book reviews for newspapers, magazines, and websites; helping students find information as a librarian; and promoting PBS television programs. 

Pat was born and raised in Nebraska where she promptly left the cold and snow after college, living at various times in Texas, Colorado, Northern Virginia, and Northern California. Pat enjoys travel, having visited Mexico, Canada, Europe, Nicaragua, Thailand, and Egypt, and Europe, including a cruise down the Danube. 

Her triumphs are raising two incredible daughters who daily amaze her with their power and compassion. Fortunately, her incredibly supportive husband keeps her grounded in reality when she threatens to drift away while writing fiction.


Social Media Links

Blog | Website | Facebook | Twitter | Google+ | Amazon | Email

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of THREE $10 Coffee gift cards 



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