The Mistress of Pennington's Tour

Friday, 19 September 2014

Welcome romance author, Leigh Carron...

1.     What do you wish men understood about women?
That we can value our independence, yet still need a strong, steady male shoulder to lean on.
2.     Do you only work on one book at a time?
I tend to direct the majority of my focus on one while dabbling in other projects. Just that bit of variety breaks the routine and keeps the creative juices flowing.
3.     Who is your favorite fictional couple?
My new favorite fictional couple is Reagan and Derek from Jasinda and Jack Wilder’s Captured. I love perfectly imperfect characters and stories packed with heart, hope and heat!
4.     Favorite TV show?
Hell’s Kitchen for badass Chef Ramsay and Scandal for smutty drama. 
5.     Do you set daily writing goals? Word count? Number of chapters? Do you get a chance to write every day?
Hm…goals might be a stretch, but I try to write something every day. I don’t do well with too much structure…my muse is more of a go-with-the-flow kind of girl.
6.     Who was the last person you hugged?
My 12-year-old daughter, J. She’s a riot.  Fun-loving, silly and very huggable.
7.     What are you working on now?  
Mostly A Naked Beauty, the conclusion to Fat Girl. However, I’m itching to tell Jordyn’s and Lexie’s stories. They are Dee’s friends, introduced in Fat Girl. Jordyn is fun to write. I love her feistiness. She will definitely meet her match in Color Blind

Fat Girl by Leigh Carron

Genre: Romance (Contemporary, Steamy, Adult Content)

About Fat Girl: Years after fleeing small-town Springvale, Illinois, Deanna Chase has picked up the pieces of her shattered heart and built a new life for herself as a child advocacy lawyer. Her food addiction is quasi under control, her secrets are buried, and she has even made a tenuous peace with her plus-size body. Until…
Micah Peters—the very sexy and now famous man she fled— walks through her office door and sends Dee reeling. His demand that she help a young boy caught in a custody battle will reunite her with the past she left behind. 
Torn between duty and self-preservation, Dee isn’t easy to convince. But when obligation wins, the former lovers get more than they bargained for—a searing passion that burns hotter than ever and startling revelations about what really happened the fateful night she left.
Will the truth set Dee free to love again? Or will past hurts and lingering insecurities destine her to walk away from her heart again, this time for good?
Fat Girl is the first book in this provocative two-part series about love and self-acceptance.

Now available at

Praise for Fat Girl
An addictive, steamy read.” —Wynne Channing, best-selling author
“This is one of those books that sucks you in and keeps your interest until the very end.” —Jodie's W.I.N.E. List
“This was a refreshing, real story that had me captivated from the first page. Dee and Mick were wonderful characters full of real flaws, real strengths and real passion.”  — Beth S
“A brilliantly written, steamy, sexy, thought-provokingly wonderful novel.” — Olivia P
 “A MUST READ!!!” — Christine K

About Me: An American living in Canada. Chocolate snob. Recovering yo-yo dieter. Devoted mom and wife, blessed with a brilliantly witty daughter and unintentionally humorous husband. My wacky family feed my creativity and fuel my passion. Most nights, you will find me either curled up with a great book or, more often, sitting at my computer, tapping out the countless visions in my head. 
To me, there is nothing better in a narrative than perfectly flawed but strong characters and intense romance that is sexy, deep, and sensual. Mm…I liken such stories to a box of Godiva. Decadent and delicious! You can’t stop at just one. In fact, I’m now hard at work on my next novel—A Naked Beauty, the conclusion to Fat Girl.

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Giveaway: An ecopy of Fat Girl at each stop, and four tour prizes: 1) A signed paperback copy of Fat Girl , bookmark, and $20 Visa gift card, 2) a $15 Amazon gift card, 3) $10 Body Shop gift card, and 4) $10 Starbucks gift card.

Excerpt #2: (PG)
The click of the front door, followed by the report of heavy footsteps, breaks my concentration.
My first thought: definitely male. My second: I’m not expecting anyone and walk-ins are rare. As I begin to rise from behind my desk, the thud of leather soles on the hardwood comes to a halt. Ah. My heart settles. Whoever is out there must see the toy box and Wii console in the waiting area, and realize he’s wandered into the wrong office loft. It happens sometimes. Even with Deeana Chase, Child Advocacy Services, embossed on the glass.
Lowering myself back into my chair, I’m about to return to the case I’ve spent the past hour prepping for mediation, except there are no sounds of retreat. I cock an ear and listen. Nothing. My nerves begin to buzz again as my mind swings back to something Lena, my assistant, said before she left for the day. A man called to ask if I would be in this evening but wouldn’t disclose his name or purpose. Strange for sure and I should have locked up. A rule I set for both Lena and myself when either of us was working alone. But, true to form, preoccupation with a case took over and I forgot. Now I wish I’d been more vigilant.
Imagination racing in time with my rapid pulse, I pull a can of pepper spray out of my purse and, slipping off three-inch heels, silently move across my office. I’m cautious by design, though rarely this jumpy. The only logical explanation is that last night I stayed up late watching The Deliberate Stranger, an old movie about a notorious serial killer who lured his victims with charm and good looks. In hindsight, probably not the type of program a woman living on her own should watch. But having worked in Chicago for all of my adult life without encountering a problem, I feel relatively safe here.
I angle my head and peer around the doorway into the reception area. The man standing with his back to me is partially concealed by a giant leafy ficus, but the parts of him I can see are impressively built. He has to be more than six feet, judging by the bit of dark hair peeking just above the leaves. And he’s broad and muscular, if the way one shoulder fills out half of a black leather jacket and one rounded butt cheek flatters blue-washed denim are any indication. Under different circumstances I might enjoy the view, but all I’m thinking is his fine ass isn’t going to matter much if he’s another Ted Bundy.
In sheer masculine volume, this Adonis would have no trouble taking me and my extra weight down without breaking a sweat. I tighten my grip on the metal trigger with a good notion to spray first and ask questions later.
Fortunately, logic kicks in before my imagination spins further out of control. Would any man intent on harm stand there all this time studying the corkboard on which I proudly display cards and drawings from my young clients? The rational answer is no.
I take a deep breath and chide myself for being ridiculous. “May I help you?” I ask, moving into the open doorway.
There’s a pause—a noticeable hesitation—before he steps from behind the plant and slowly pivots.
I know even before our eyes meet.
My breath stutters.
I freeze.
And the can falls from my numb fingers.

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