Author: N. Kuhn
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Blitz Host: Lady Amber's Tours
Synopsis:
Janelle hasn't been home in ten years. All of a sudden, she has to deal with
her mothers death, her broken relationship with her sister, and some sexy
stranger following her. She doesn't know whether to be scared, or excited.
Janelle hasn't been home in ten years. All of a sudden, she has to deal with
her mothers death, her broken relationship with her sister, and some sexy
stranger following her. She doesn't know whether to be scared, or excited.
Damien needs to restore his families honor. He needs to use Janelle to do it,
there's one problem. There's someone standing in the way. He's vowed that
no one will stand in the way or getting what's his.
there's one problem. There's someone standing in the way. He's vowed that
no one will stand in the way or getting what's his.
Together they must save what's left of both their families, and along the
way, deal with what's going on between them. Join them on the beginning of
their journey, under the Mohawk Moon.
way, deal with what's going on between them. Join them on the beginning of
their journey, under the Mohawk Moon.
Author Bio:
The N in N. Kuhn is actually Nicole. She was born and raised in western New
York. She grew up with a love of books, and a passion for writing. She was
always found with her nose in a book. She finally decided to take the steps
to embark into self publishing at the urging of her Grandmother. Mrs. Kuhn
has dedicated her second book to Janet Starr, as she passed just days after
being published.
The N in N. Kuhn is actually Nicole. She was born and raised in western New
York. She grew up with a love of books, and a passion for writing. She was
always found with her nose in a book. She finally decided to take the steps
to embark into self publishing at the urging of her Grandmother. Mrs. Kuhn
has dedicated her second book to Janet Starr, as she passed just days after
being published.
Nicole survives on coffee alone. Mostly Tim Hortons. (It’s a NY thing.) A fan
of drinking it from the time she gets up, until she finally rests. When not
writing, she crochets and spends time with her beautiful daughter and her
of drinking it from the time she gets up, until she finally rests. When not
writing, she crochets and spends time with her beautiful daughter and her
husband. Her friends call her Octo-Mom because she multi-tasks so well.
Between her full time job, family, crochet and writing, it’s a wonder she ever
sleeps.
Between her full time job, family, crochet and writing, it’s a wonder she ever
sleeps.
Mrs. Kuhn feels that reading in our youth is a very important trait to instill. She reads with
her young daughter as much as she can. “It’s the most important thing a parent can ever
do with a child. Read, teach them to read. Don’t buy them toys, buy them books,” She
says.
her young daughter as much as she can. “It’s the most important thing a parent can ever
do with a child. Read, teach them to read. Don’t buy them toys, buy them books,” She
says.
Links:
Mohawk Moon on Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/Mohawk-Moon-Series-ebook/dp/B008HHCZTC/ref=sr_1_2?
ie=UTF8&qid=1361998443&sr=8-2&keywords=mohawk+moon
Mohawk Moon on Amazon
http://www.amazon.com/Mohawk-Moon-Series-ebook/dp/B008HHCZTC/ref=sr_1_2?
ie=UTF8&qid=1361998443&sr=8-2&keywords=mohawk+moon
Mohawk Moon on Barnes and Noble
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mohawk-moon-n-kuhn/1114777410?
ean=2940016179865
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mohawk-moon-n-kuhn/1114777410?
ean=2940016179865
Facebook
www.facebook.com/nkuhnauthor
www.facebook.com/nkuhnauthor
Twitter @mrsnkuhn
Excerpt:
“Come in,” I say. Sammy opens the door and enters. “The funeral is in forty minutes,
get ready.” She turns and leaves, not even waiting for me to answer, slamming my door
behind her. I’m left alone again. I sigh and get up. So much for the loving family reunion.
“Come in,” I say. Sammy opens the door and enters. “The funeral is in forty minutes,
get ready.” She turns and leaves, not even waiting for me to answer, slamming my door
behind her. I’m left alone again. I sigh and get up. So much for the loving family reunion.
I pull the only dress I own out of my suitcase. I had gotten this little black dress
when I thought I would try to date seriously. It was a soft satiny material, hung off the
shoulder, and accentuated my curves in all the right places. Not very appropriate for a
funeral, but it’s all I had. I slip into it, not bothering to do much with my hair. It’s always
been long, thick and straight as a stick. I slide on my black stilettos and stand at my
window. I don’t know what possessed me to buy these items. They are so unlike me. I
prefer jeans and t-shirts, sneakers, boots, casual clothing. I hated shopping. Seemed a
waste when I didn’t need anything.
when I thought I would try to date seriously. It was a soft satiny material, hung off the
shoulder, and accentuated my curves in all the right places. Not very appropriate for a
funeral, but it’s all I had. I slip into it, not bothering to do much with my hair. It’s always
been long, thick and straight as a stick. I slide on my black stilettos and stand at my
window. I don’t know what possessed me to buy these items. They are so unlike me. I
prefer jeans and t-shirts, sneakers, boots, casual clothing. I hated shopping. Seemed a
waste when I didn’t need anything.
Not like I ever met any guys worth dating. Most men I met were losers.
Criminals, married men looking to cheat, or violent. I wonder which category that
man from the station fits into. Why can’t I get him out of my head? What was it
about him that worries me? Besides the fact that I believe it was him following
us last night. It’s not like I can’t handle dangerous men. Between work and my
personal life, I’ve seen it all. I always pick the worst ones to date. I was raised
seeing a man treat women like garbage. I know it’s wrong, but I guess I craved
the confrontations. I wanted to prove to myself I was stronger than Ahi. Unlike
her, I fought back. I slip my .22 short into the small leg holster. I gaze at myself in
the mirror. Old habits die hard I suppose. Back in Chicago I won’t go anywhere
unarmed. I smooth down the sides of my dress, unnoticeable. Good. I pick up
my large black Coach purse, one of the few indulgences I allowed myself, sling it
over my shoulder, and I’m ready to go.
Criminals, married men looking to cheat, or violent. I wonder which category that
man from the station fits into. Why can’t I get him out of my head? What was it
about him that worries me? Besides the fact that I believe it was him following
us last night. It’s not like I can’t handle dangerous men. Between work and my
personal life, I’ve seen it all. I always pick the worst ones to date. I was raised
seeing a man treat women like garbage. I know it’s wrong, but I guess I craved
the confrontations. I wanted to prove to myself I was stronger than Ahi. Unlike
her, I fought back. I slip my .22 short into the small leg holster. I gaze at myself in
the mirror. Old habits die hard I suppose. Back in Chicago I won’t go anywhere
unarmed. I smooth down the sides of my dress, unnoticeable. Good. I pick up
my large black Coach purse, one of the few indulgences I allowed myself, sling it
over my shoulder, and I’m ready to go.
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