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Welcome Claudia Connor

It’s a rare, rare author that blows you away on their first book (Worth the Fall), then follows it up with their second (Worth the Risk)!ย  Meet Claudia Conner! You guys are really going to want to read these books!

519PThNcS1L._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-v3-big,TopRight,0,-55_SX278_SY278_PIkin4,BottomRight,1,22_AA300_SH20_OU01_WORTH THE RISK … in Claudia’s words:

Three things that inspired my new release:

ย My Favorite Restaurant:
Sometimes I picture real places when writing a scene, usually because I had a vision of the scene when I was actually there. In this case, itโ€™s the restaurant Stephen and Hannah go to on their first date. My apologies to the people I was having dinner with. My mind is more often attuned to those who arenโ€™t really there in the flesh. ๐Ÿ™‚

Songs:
A single word in a song, sometimes just the emotion in their voice, can set me off on a writing marathon. Many times itโ€™s like the background music of a movie scene. No dialogue, just watching them, feeling whatever theyโ€™re feeling. In Worth The Risk, Oats In The Water by Ben Howard played in the background of a particular rough time for Stephen.

Real Events:
Itโ€™s rare for any character in my mind to be based on a real live person, in fact this is the first time ever. But the tragedy of Stephenโ€™s fiancรฉ is the true story of a friendโ€™s sister. After hearing the pain of her familyโ€™s past, I couldnโ€™t stop thinking of the man left behind. How did you move on from something like that? How did he recover? Did he recover? I donโ€™t personally know the man who was left to put himself back together, but I do know that after almost twenty years he did find love again.

WORTH THE RISK

5164CWb4xQL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-v3-big,TopRight,0,-55_SX278_SY278_PIkin4,BottomRight,1,22_AA300_SH20_OU01_New York Times bestselling author Claudia Connor follows up her heartfelt debut, Worth the Fall, with a novel about Mattโ€™s brother, Stephenโ€”and when a McKinney brother falls in love, powerful emotion and overwhelming desire are never far behind.

Two hearts locked away . . . Hannah Walker spends her days coaching children through injury and trauma, one therapeutic horseback ride at a time. She knows all too well how violence can change a child and leave scars that never heal. Itโ€™s easy for her to relate to the kids; what isnโ€™t easy is the thought of facing her own harrowing past.

Millionaire playboy Stephen McKinney could use a little coaching himself. Five years ago he encountered his most horrible nightmareโ€”and the nightmare won. No matter what he achieves, nothing can make up for that awful night . . . or so he believes.

Both desperate for a second chance . . . Stephen is used to getting what he wants. And he wants Hannah. So when she turns him down, heโ€™s intrigued. What he doesnโ€™t know is that her secrets will lead him to a place he never wanted to go again . . . to a side of himself heโ€™s tried to forget . . . a side that would scare Hannah away from ever loving him. Now his only chance to win her trust is to bare his soul, risking everything he tried so hard to protect.

READ ON FOR CHAPTER ONE … and at the end for an eBook Giveaway of both Worth The Fall and Worth The Risk courtesy of Claudia!

Chapter 1
Hannahโ€™s eyes burned and her head ached from the effort not to cry as she pulled into a parking spot at Foodland. At eight oโ€™clock that morning sheโ€™d walked into the veterinarianโ€™s office a dog owner. Three hours later sheโ€™d walked out . . . not.
She cut the engine, her forehead dropped to the steering wheel. Sheโ€™d known Max wasnโ€™t himself, that he might be sick, that eleven was old for a dog, especially a large shepherd mix. But she hadnโ€™t expected to hear the words nothing we can do, or best thing for him.
Biting her lip against tears, she forced herself out and into a spring day so bright and beautiful she couldnโ€™t decide if it was cheerful or a slap in the face.
She grabbed a cart and mentally planned her route hitting produce first. Avocados, jalapeรฑos, tomatoes. She searched her fuzzy brain for what else she needed for guacamole, her standard contribution when she went to her brotherโ€™s. Exactly where she did not want to go tonight. She didnโ€™t want to watch the brothers whoโ€™d raised her tiptoeing around, giving each other worried looks, thinking they needed to fix it like they always did. They couldnโ€™t fix this. A lot of things couldnโ€™t be fixed.
Finished with that, she silently repeated the rest. Chips, bread, beer. Chips, bread, milk, beer. She added things and ticked them off as she went. But old habits were hard to break, and like a car on autopilot, she found herself in the dog food aisle.
All she saw were Maxโ€™s big eyes fixed on hers. Trusting her when she said it would be okay, not understanding the vetโ€™s syringe was filled with enough anesthesia heโ€™d never wake up. The lump in her throat swelled until she couldnโ€™t swallow past it. Her nose burned and the bags in front of her blurred.
Just get the beer and go. She wheeled around and turned the corner of the next aisle.
She couldnโ€™t handle a pity party tonight. Of course if she didnโ€™t go, if she said she just wanted to hang out at home, theyโ€™d cancel the whole March Madness deal and insist on coming to her house. Her house, where a certain brown-eyed shepherd wouldnโ€™t be waiting. An enormous weight settled on her chest.
Donโ€™t cry. She scanned the beer case and swiped at her eyes. She wasnโ€™t going to cry. She bit down on her bottom lip.
Damn it. She was. No wonder her brothers treated her like glass. Broken glass.
โ€œBad day?โ€
Hannah jerked at the deep voice beside her. Right beside her and way too close. Dark, tall and wide, the man filled out his expensive-looking black suit like an athlete entering the stadium tunnel before a game.
โ€œIโ€™m fine.โ€
He angled his head, smiled, and her heart actually stumbled. โ€œYou know, people usually cry in their beer after they drink it. Just saying.โ€
He continued to study her with soft brown eyes, and for the first time in a long time, she didnโ€™t want to look away. But she did. And pulled the sides of the long-sleeved shirt she wore open over a tank top closer together. Because of the frigid air coming from the beer case, and because no matter what she had on, no matter how covered, she could never shake the feeling people could somehow see through to what lay beneath. โ€œWell, Iโ€™m done now.โ€
He looked back to the case as well, but even from the side she could see a smirk pulling at his lips. โ€œThatโ€™s good.โ€
She grabbed a six-pack of AmberBock, spun her buggy around, and headed to the front, feeling the strangerโ€™s eyes burning her back the entire way.

Stephen McKinney watched her go, enjoying the way she moved in tan riding breeches that hugged her legs before they disappeared into tall, brown leather boots. He smiled, enjoying it a little longer. Golden-blond hair hung in a long, loose braid nearly to her waist. He had a flash of it tangled in his fingers, spread across silk sheets. Beautiful. And gone.
He loosened his tie and opened the top buttons of his dress shirt as he made his way through the express lane.
Still feeling a stab of disappointment, he exited alone. But the sun warmed him and, it seemed, blessed him, with extreme luck, because, as he stashed his items in the tiny trunk of his Porsche, he caught sight of Goldilocks pushing her cart straight toward him.
Grinning, he pretended to search his bags as she made a wide birth around him and stopped at the neighboring carโ€”a black 4Runner that had seen better days. She rearranged some piles in the back then stashed her groceries, not once looking at him.
While she delivered her basket to the holding pen, he closed his trunk and stepped around to lean against the side. He waited, watched, noting the deliberate way she walked. Tall and lean, though he still had a good six inches on her.
Still several feet away, she slowed, a touch of fight-or-flight in her eyes. She took a few more steps, maintaining a certain distance he felt compelled to close. But he stayed where he was, legs crossed in front of him, effectively blocking her way. โ€œHave dinner with me.โ€
Golden eyes blinked up at him. Not the shade of the gold bars stacked inside the national reserve, more like the dark whiskey heโ€™d drunk too much of not so long ago.
โ€œWhat?โ€
โ€œIโ€™m asking you to dinner.โ€
She looked around again, seeming more concerned with the parking lot than with him. โ€œOh.โ€
Not exactly an answer and not the effect he usually had on women. โ€œStephen,โ€ he said and offered his hand.
She hesitated so long, he thought she might leave him hanging. But finally, and with obvious reluctance, she slipped her small hand into his. He got a little buzz from the slide of her palm against his. He imagined the rest of her would be just as soft. โ€œYour name?โ€
โ€œHannah.โ€
โ€œSo, Hannah,โ€ he said, wanting to tug until she was flat up against him. โ€œWill you please have dinner with me?โ€
โ€œNo.โ€ She didnโ€™t consider it for even a second and pulled her hand free.
โ€œAh.โ€ He inclined his head toward her bags. โ€œChips. Beer. You have plans. Another night then.โ€ He crossed his arms over his chest. โ€œGive me your number and Iโ€™ll call you.โ€
โ€œYes. I mean . . . no.โ€
โ€œNot sure?โ€ Now he was getting somewhere. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. If she was playing hard to get, he could play too. And he would win.
โ€œI mean I canโ€™t give you my number and yes, I have plans.โ€
She flicked her eyes toward her driverโ€™s side door.
Nervous? It was broad daylight and not like they were standing in a darkened alley, but he straightened, gave her a bit more space. Though there was no way was he about to leave things like this, just watch her drive away. Not when he was dying to touch her, brush back the wayward strands feathering around that gorgeous face.
โ€œMaybe just a drink then. No pressure.โ€
Seconds ticked by and she bit at her lip again, making him think about biting it too. She seemed to weigh her options, possibly deciding which was the better offer. If heโ€™d been interested before, now he was damned intrigued.
โ€œI guess I could meet you somewhere.โ€
He cocked his head, resisted giving her the head-to-toe perusal he wanted to. โ€œIs that the best deal Iโ€™m going to get?โ€
โ€œItโ€™s the only deal youโ€™re going to get.โ€
In the second their eyes connected, he caught a touch of sass, before she looked away. Cute. Very cute, on top of being very beautiful. โ€œOkay. Renoโ€™s.โ€ If she was surprised at Norfolkโ€™s exclusive, impossible-to-get-into restaurant, she didnโ€™t show it. His phone rang and, without taking his eyes from hers, he slipped it out of his pocket. โ€œSeven thirty?โ€
She gave a swift nod and escaped to her car.
As a businessman he knew compromise could often get you farther. And sometimes, he thought, sliding into the deep black leather, it was best to let your opponent think theyโ€™d won.
He brought the cell to his ear. โ€œHey, Adam, whatโ€™s up?โ€ As he listened to the young intern heโ€™d recently taken on, he watched Hannah leave the parking lot.
โ€œSo how should I reply?โ€
Stephen started his own car and pulled out. โ€œYou tell them the dealโ€™s off. They want to sell more than we want to buy. Thatโ€™s the point. Find out why theyโ€™re so eager and then we squeeze. Three to one he caves by midweek.โ€ Which were better odds than his date showing up tonight.
โ€œAnd thatโ€™s why youโ€™re the shark.โ€
Stephen smiled at the young manโ€™s enthusiasm. โ€œIโ€™ll be back in the office in twenty.โ€ He ended the call and dropped his phone into the console, his mind more on a golden-haired angel than a major land acquisition. He had other acquisitions in mind.
His smile grew at the thought as he muscled into midday traffic and took the I-4 into downtown. Breast-hugging tank top heโ€™d only gotten a peek of thanks to the shirt she wore over it. That shirt had also partially blocked his view of a very fine ass. Just the right curves in addition to a sinfully sexy mouth. And a single tear tracking down her cheek that had twisted something inside him. Not at all the kind of thing he liked.
He preferred happy and carefree, conceited and self-involved. All of which turned the spotlight on someone else and turned both parties away from matters of the heart. But he was a man who got what he wanted, and the longer heโ€™d stood there beside her car, the more heโ€™d wanted Hannah. Plus, sheโ€™d said no. That alone had sealed her fate.
Feeling triumphant, Stephen pulled up to his office located in one of Norfolkโ€™s newest high-risesโ€”his high-rise. All glass and sleek metal, the silver edges gleaming in the afternoon sun, the space between reflecting the clear blue sky.
Damn, he loved this building. And he should, heโ€™d had a lot to do with the design. More than that, it had come at a time when heโ€™d needed it most. His tangible proof that heโ€™d made it through the nightmare that had almost destroyed him.
But it hadnโ€™t. The glass building stood, breakable but surviving. And so was he.
He crossed the cool lobby, his dress shoes clicking against the smooth black marble, and keyed into his private elevator. He gave a smile and a nod to the young blonde manning the main desk as the doors closed, taking him swiftly to the top of his own company, Trace Development.
He strode down the hallway to his home away from home. Heโ€™d been gone longer than heโ€™d planned, working hard for a date with an alluring woman whoโ€™d shown a hint of sadness.
He didnโ€™t slow down as his admin got up from behind her desk. โ€œYou have six calls. Tanner and Associates and Robert Sinclair are the most pressing. You have a conference call with Mr. Jiaฬ„ng at two.โ€ She quick-stepped to keep pace with him. She had no choice.
Stephen smiled at his straightforward administrative assistant. In a black skirt and standard white blouse ruffling out at the top, she looked as formidable as ever. Her crisp voice and gray bob only added to her air of efficiency. โ€œThank you, Dee.โ€
First order of business was to cancel his prior commitment for the evening, easy enough. He sat at his desk and pulled up the number. Heโ€™d had a fun couple of weeks, but things between him and Nicole had run their course and they both knew it. Sheโ€™d been the one to cancel last time. Women used him for his money and prestige. He used them for . . . some would say sex. He thought of it more as sleep aid without the pills.
Nightmare suppressers.
When that was done he dug into the Shanghai file, barely looking up when his partner, Dave Pietro, strode in. His tie was a blast of orange against a navy pinstripe. And that was Dave, from his three-thousand-dollar shoes to his slicked-back hair and shrewd black eyes. Daveโ€™s favorite saying was โ€œshock and awe.โ€ More often than not, it was just shock. But he was sharp, and he enjoyed playing the political side, something Stephen had no patience for.
โ€œCongratulations.โ€ Dave waved a magazine, one heโ€™d already seen.
Stephen McKinney, Norfolkโ€™s Most Eligible Bachelor.
โ€œYou didnโ€™t tell me.โ€
โ€œI forgot.โ€ Since making his first million in college and being dubbed the Stock Whisperer by Forbes, it was always something. Heโ€™d been recognized in Top Ten Young Professionals more times than he could count. One article had even called him a young Donald Trump. That one he appreciated, as he had great respect for the man.
Heโ€™d strategized, negotiated, and outsmarted, gaining power and leverage with surprising speed. But it was the bigger, more recent, risks that had gotten him farther, faster. It wasnโ€™t hard to risk everything when you had nothing to lose. Nothing to live for.
โ€œSo, how many women did you have to screw to get that Most Eligible status?โ€
โ€œI donโ€™t know,โ€ Stephen answered dryly, thinking Dave actually sounded jealous. โ€œI didnโ€™t count.โ€
โ€œWell, either Iโ€™m not screwing enough or not the right ones. Better up my game.โ€
Stephen looked up just in time to see Dave cover his tone with a smile as he passed him a file.
โ€œNew property. I want it.โ€
Always with the new deals, the quick and easy profit. Stephen wasnโ€™t against quick money, but he held majority in Trace and small projects offered little challenge, in addition to wasting time. While Dave went on about an empty stretch of land and the commercial opportunities, Stephenโ€™s mind wandered to a real challenge.
Hannah. The name suited her somehow. Soft and earthy. Full lips and a mouth he could spend hours exploring. He was well aware he might never see her again.
It wasnโ€™t at all like him to care.

BUY WORTH THE RISK (Stephen book 2)

BUY WORTH THE FALL (Matt book 1)

COMMENT FOR A CHANCE TO WIN an eCopy of WORTH THE FALL & WORTH THE RISK – 2 winners. Claudia will send one book to each. Check back Sunday for winners. (Personally I wouldn’t wait to win, buy & start reading at least one of them, they’re that good!)

36 thoughts on “Welcome Claudia Connor”

  1. I read WORTH THE FALL last week and I absolutely loved it. I’m looking forward to reading more of Claudia Connor’s books. :reading:

  2. :bemine: Happy Valentine’s Day :bemine:

    Never read this author. These look good. Going to have to check her out!

  3. Always love learning of new authors to read, on my way to Amazon to check these out!! Thank you for keeping readers informed. ๐Ÿ™‚

  4. These books sound so good and I just ordered them. I love reading new authors works and then continue to follow them. It is exciting to see how they improve the more they publish and these sound like a great start.

  5. I love it when one of my favorite authors recommends an author I haven’t previously read. If you like it, it must be worth reading. Thank you. I will most certainly look into these books. Or win them maybe?

    • Oops. I lied. (Sorry again!) I purchased Worth the Fall, just haven’t read it yet. You can be dang sure I will, and soon!

  6. Would love to win one of these books. I’m on hold for the second book because the first is not available. Love that authors support each other. :flagwave:

  7. I read the snippet from Worth the Fall, I want to finish it! I would love a free copy, but I will probably buy it if I don’t win it. Thanks for introducing me to a new author.

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