Day One has been thrust upon us with nary a warning, like a blizzard that jumps out from behind the innocent looking mountains yelling “Surprise!” in Icelandic tongues. Well, grab your parkas and your mittens, folks. This is going to be one heck of a super slalom-esque previewing ride!


Here we go!

Stripped Asset is my 10th published novel, and honestly it is one of my very favorites. The characters of Heath and Lachlan just wrote themselves, weaving a simple romantic tale into a dynamic, hopefully unforgettable read. Here’s why (in lovely synopsis/sell copy form)…

Love is rarely played more beautifully than to the heartfelt strings of sacrifice…

Thirty-two year old Lachlan Hayes is a successful Hollywood screenwriter who’s just bought a beautiful but neglected house on the sea. Words are his life; imagination his playground. But he’s never known love as more than a meeting of hungry bodies in the night.

Heath Isles is a twenty-seven year old landscape architect whose every moment is spent fighting for custody of his little brother. The work that pays for this legal battle is Heath’s life, giving his brother the future he deserves is his calling. But Heath’s never known true love as more than a common prelude to a common divorce.

When Lachlan hires Heath to renovate his beachfront property, a passion fierce and playful is alighted and a romance true and embattled is born. 

 Theirs is a story of irony, a story of when surrendering to the odds is love’s only hope of survival.

 Theirs is a tale of a sacrifice made and kept.

 Theirs is a song of hope and happy endings.

Excuse me while I bounce around in utter excitement. Please feel free to join in. The more bouncers the merrier, I always say. *grins*

Tomorrow, I will give you all the chapter titles and their excerpts in one grand rush of previewing goodiness. (I, too, am having to hurriedly throw on the gloves and big furry boots. The blizzard is unexpectedly barreling down on me as well… Ahh, the publishing world!)

As for all my faithful blog readers who have been following the escapades of my teetering mental health, an update awaits you tomorrow as well. I’d add more today but a good portion of my working brain matter leaked out of my head this morning as Tuesdays and I rarely get along. Don’t ask. I don’t have a heck of a clue as to why. You know, somebody could write a darn fine doctorate thesis on the mysterious mis-workings of my mind. Anything for science after all, right?

Well, I will leave you here for today. I hope everyone is well kitted out in their winter wear as the eye of the previewing blizzard hits tomorrow!

Until then…

Chloe Stowe and her enigmatic brain

Merry Christmas!

I apologize for the lateness of the post today but I’ve got a village full of elves to back me up that I’ve actually been busy merry-making and making the world a jolly place to “ho-ho!’”

Forget the wrapping paper, bows and ribbons; let’s just get to the goodies…

Chapter Six: Playing Dirty

“You like when I play dirty.” Cane winced and then abandoned the military stance altogether as he got a whiff of the candies. Holding out his hand, he revised, “Ok, forget that I just said that. Give me a rum ball.” (page 82)

Wow. I provided you with smut and a rum ball. How very festive of me. I will, therefore, forgo the tinseling of your dear heads in lieu of gifting you with “Donner’s” WWII reindeer game…

I imagine Donner to be…

An ambulance driver in the heart of Vienna. A broken leg when he was five that had followed him into his adulthood as a nasty limp had prevented Donner from military duty. He considers the disability as a blessing now as his loyalty has turned away from the Germans who occupy his homeland. Now, the only ones that he serves are the people of his Vienna, a people who must survive the bombs of the Allies to see the light of a free day.  As he risks his life to bring an old woman to safety, Donner meets a man who could save a hundred lives… if only the man wanted to. Will Donner be able to set the man straight before more than lives are lost, but hearts as well?

I won’t keep you long today, nor will I ply you with the less than sane details of my life. You can thank me by returning tomorrow when I’m sure I can dole out some whine and questionable wisdom for your entertainment and my mental health (no snickering, people.)

Have a blessed Christmas night and may this eve be the best of your life so far.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe Stowe