Julie Elizabeth Powell's Blog, page 57
September 26, 2016
IF I HAD YOU by Heather Hiestand
IF I HAD YOU
The Grand Russe Hotel book #1
by Heather Hiestand
Genre: Historical Romance
Inside the glittering walls of a famous hotel, an ingénue experiences first passion . . .
As she stands before the gilded doors of The Grand Russe Hotel, Alecia Loudon is poised on the threshold of a profound awakening. It is the Roaring Twenties, and London is buzzing with opportunities for adventure . . . and indiscretion. The young personal secretary knows nothing of the ways of men, but a chance meeting with the hotel’s handsome night watchman sets her imagination afire.
Ivan Salter has noticed the quiet Englishwoman and wonders what delicate beauty might be lurking behind Alecia’s plain clothes. As the handsome Russian draws Alecia further into the hotel’s luxurious world, he introduces her to fine food, cool jazz, and forbidden assignations. Their dalliance is tested, however, by a surprising link between Ivan’s family history and Alecia’s bosses. Tangled up in international intrigue, the lovers must decide if their sparkling new romance is worth the cost . . .
As she stands before the gilded doors of The Grand Russe Hotel, Alecia Loudon is poised on the threshold of a profound awakening. It is the Roaring Twenties, and London is buzzing with opportunities for adventure . . . and indiscretion. The young personal secretary knows nothing of the ways of men, but a chance meeting with the hotel’s handsome night watchman sets her imagination afire.
Ivan Salter has noticed the quiet Englishwoman and wonders what delicate beauty might be lurking behind Alecia’s plain clothes. As the handsome Russian draws Alecia further into the hotel’s luxurious world, he introduces her to fine food, cool jazz, and forbidden assignations. Their dalliance is tested, however, by a surprising link between Ivan’s family history and Alecia’s bosses. Tangled up in international intrigue, the lovers must decide if their sparkling new romance is worth the cost . . .
“It isn’t midnight yet,” Alecia said when she spotted Ivan Salter coming toward her. She told her traitorous heart rate to slow. While he might be handsome, he wasn’t kind. She’d asked the Russian chambermaid who cleaned her room what myshka meant. Little mouse, indeed. An insult. She had thought him a creature out of a fairy tale.
As he approached, not speaking, she lifted herself from her slouched pose along the wall and straightened her shoulders. Pins holding her too heavy hair in its prim bun dug into her scalp. She needed to take it down and go to bed, but the music had drawn her. Better than a lumpy mattress, the Lusitania sinking.
When he was two feet from her, he stopped. His gaze wandered the space, taking in the empty sofa, and, oddly enough, the carpet.
“What?” she demanded, very un-mouselike. She had resolved to be as belligerent as a maiden aunt. “There isn’t a sign saying hotel guests are not allowed back here.”
He cocked his head. She wilted when he sucked in his cheeks, highlighting the magnificent structure of his cheekbones. No. He may have every blessing God might offer a man, but he was only a night watchman. She was just a secretary. Unless she was breaking a rule, he had no right to intimidate her. She would not be cowed.
“Say something,” she said very crisply, as if she was dressing down a young nephew.
His lips curved. She felt a sinking sensation in her midsection. How dare he look so knowing?
“Young ladies wandering about unchaperoned are looking to be kissed.”
“By you?” How stupid she was, to say this.
His teeth were exposed by his widening smile. The top row was perfect, but his two lower front teeth were just a little crooked. She fell in love even more. In lust?
“You knew you would see me tonight. I am the watchman.”
“Very well then.” She lifted her chin. “It is unlikely that I am looking to be kissed. I like to wander and have never been kissed.”
“Never, myshka? Such a pity. You are somewhat pretty.”
“How dare you!” Outrage bubbled in her lungs. She could not find any other words.
But the truth was, she could find another thought, even if she couldn’t say it aloud. She wanted to be kissed. By him.
As he approached, not speaking, she lifted herself from her slouched pose along the wall and straightened her shoulders. Pins holding her too heavy hair in its prim bun dug into her scalp. She needed to take it down and go to bed, but the music had drawn her. Better than a lumpy mattress, the Lusitania sinking.
When he was two feet from her, he stopped. His gaze wandered the space, taking in the empty sofa, and, oddly enough, the carpet.
“What?” she demanded, very un-mouselike. She had resolved to be as belligerent as a maiden aunt. “There isn’t a sign saying hotel guests are not allowed back here.”
He cocked his head. She wilted when he sucked in his cheeks, highlighting the magnificent structure of his cheekbones. No. He may have every blessing God might offer a man, but he was only a night watchman. She was just a secretary. Unless she was breaking a rule, he had no right to intimidate her. She would not be cowed.
“Say something,” she said very crisply, as if she was dressing down a young nephew.
His lips curved. She felt a sinking sensation in her midsection. How dare he look so knowing?
“Young ladies wandering about unchaperoned are looking to be kissed.”
“By you?” How stupid she was, to say this.
His teeth were exposed by his widening smile. The top row was perfect, but his two lower front teeth were just a little crooked. She fell in love even more. In lust?
“You knew you would see me tonight. I am the watchman.”
“Very well then.” She lifted her chin. “It is unlikely that I am looking to be kissed. I like to wander and have never been kissed.”
“Never, myshka? Such a pity. You are somewhat pretty.”
“How dare you!” Outrage bubbled in her lungs. She could not find any other words.
But the truth was, she could find another thought, even if she couldn’t say it aloud. She wanted to be kissed. By him.
PRE-ORDER ON AMAZON
FEBRUARY 14, 2017
I WANNA BE LOVED BY YOU
I WANNA BE LOVED BY YOU
For a young woman swept into international adventure, romance can’t be far behind…
The 1920s are in full swing when Sadie Loudon leaves her grandfather’s stodgy vicarage, and she dreams of the glamour and excitement she’s seen on the silver screen. But before she even begins work at the storied Grand Russe Hotel, she is ushered into London’s glittering nightlife by a handsome young businessman intent on introducing her to the pleasures available to a Bright Young Thing. Is it a fleeting romance…or something even more intriguing?
Les Drake is on the lookout for Bolsheviks when he encounters sweet, sexy Sadie. A British Secret Intelligence agent, Les has more experience with the seedy underside of the city than with innocent chambermaids, but he can’t deny that Sadie tempts him. Using her as part of his cover seems like a brilliant plan until the danger of his assignment threatens what has suddenly become a love he can’t bear to lose…
The 1920s are in full swing when Sadie Loudon leaves her grandfather’s stodgy vicarage, and she dreams of the glamour and excitement she’s seen on the silver screen. But before she even begins work at the storied Grand Russe Hotel, she is ushered into London’s glittering nightlife by a handsome young businessman intent on introducing her to the pleasures available to a Bright Young Thing. Is it a fleeting romance…or something even more intriguing?
Les Drake is on the lookout for Bolsheviks when he encounters sweet, sexy Sadie. A British Secret Intelligence agent, Les has more experience with the seedy underside of the city than with innocent chambermaids, but he can’t deny that Sadie tempts him. Using her as part of his cover seems like a brilliant plan until the danger of his assignment threatens what has suddenly become a love he can’t bear to lose…
Heather Hiestand was born in Illinois, but her family migrated west before she started school. Since then she has claimed Washington State as home, except for a few years in California. She wrote her first story at age seven and went on to major in creative writing at the University of Washington. Her first published fiction was a mystery short story, but since then it has been all about the many flavors of romance. Heather’s first published romance short story was set in the Victorian period, and she continues to return to historical fiction as well as other subgenres. The author of many novels, novellas, and short stories, she has achieved best-seller status at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. With her husband and son, she makes her home in a small town and supposedly works out of her tiny office, though she mostly writes in her easy chair in the living room.
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September 24, 2016
AUTUMN ALLURE by Allie Boniface
AUTUMN ALLURE
Pine Point Book #4
by Allie Boniface
Genre: Small Town Contemporary Romance
Time for this playboy to face the music. He just never dreamed it would be a lullaby…
Nate Hunter went to college for a business degree, but he prefers working as a bartender and enjoying his small-town, single life. Then a dying ex-girlfriend tracks him down to tell him he has a daughter he never knew existed.
Nate doesn’t know the first thing about being a father, but one look at Autumn and he’s a goner, so he agrees to take care of her until her aunt returns at Christmas.
When he asks no-nonsense librarian Maxine Abbott to move in with him and help take care of his daughter, she agrees – but only if he’ll pretend to be her boyfriend and get her mother off her back.
Their relationship of convenience works perfectly at first, until real feelings begin to chip away at their fake romance. Then Autumn’s aunt shows up early, and everything changes. Will Nate and Maxine’s budding love end in heartbreak before the last leaves fall?
“Nate!” Bethany called across the room. “Picture time!”
Oh, God. Now their charade would begin in earnest. Max closed one eye, afraid to see his expression as he walked over. He handed her a glass of chilled white wine and winked. “Here I am. Ready for the camera.” He leaned over and planted a kiss on Bethany’s cheek. “How’s the prettiest town council candidate in town?”
Bethany wriggled and cooed like a schoolgirl. Then she stopped, and her eagle-eyed gaze zoomed in on the table. “Why did you give my daughter a glass of wine?”
Max froze. Nate didn’t know, of course, that she was allergic to wine. And bananas and kiwi. The fruit allergy, they’d found out about years ago, when Max swelled up in first grade after eating banana bread that a classmate brought in. The doctor hadn’t bothered to tell her she might develop a wine allergy someday too. She’d found out about that one after ending up in the hospital her freshman year of college.
A boyfriend would know that. Bethany knew a boyfriend would know that. Max pushed the glass away and forced a laugh. “Sweetheart, I think you mixed up our drinks.” She reached for whatever he held, something that looked like scotch or bourbon on the rocks, and took a swallow.
Oh dear God, I’ve set my mouth on fire. She looked at Bethany, Parvati, and the cameraman, who seemed interested for the first time all night, and forced herself to swallow before she spit it out. “That’s your wine.”
“Of course it is. Sorry, babe. Got caught up in the moment, what with all the guests.” He took a sip and watched her intently over the rim of his glass. What else haven’t you told me? his gaze seemed to ask.
Max continued to sweat. They needed to sit down and make a list ASAP. They could start with food allergies and go from there. Likes, dislikes, favorite colors, favorite foods, and anything else they could think of. Max scolded herself for not doing it earlier. Bethany’s general intuition and desperation to marry off her daughter meant she’d be watching the two of them like a hawk.
Right now, though, Max needed to do something to wipe the look of puzzlement off her mother’s face. She thought about taking another sip of whatever horrible drink she held in her hand, but she couldn’t make herself. I never drink in front of Nate, she could say, but Bethany wouldn’t buy that excuse. My allergies never came up, she could say, but that seemed unlikely for a couple that lived together.
Nate solved the problem for her. He ran one hand over his white-blond hair, gelled into haphazard spikes. His blue eyes caught hers and twinkled. Then, with the Elks Club filled to capacity and the press looking on, he put down his wineglass, leaned over, and kissed Max squarely on the mouth.
Summer's Song ✯ Winter's Wonder ✯ Spring Secrets
Allie Boniface is the USA Today best-selling author of over a dozen novels, including the Cocktail Cruise, Hometown Heroes, and Pine Point series. Her books are most often set in small towns and feature emotional, thought-provoking, sensual romance with relatable characters you'll know and love.
A graduate of the University of Rochester and Case Western Reserve University, Allie currently lives in a small town in the beautiful Hudson Valley of New York with her husband and their two furry felines. When she isn't teaching high school English, she likes to travel, lose herself in great music, or go for a long run and think about her next small town story.
Take some time to browse around Allie's website, check out new and upcoming releases, and sign up for Allie's newsletter. You'll get all the news about releases before everyone else, along with the chance to review books before the general public. If you're interested, you can join Allie's All-Stars as well, an exclusive readers' group on Facebook where fans and friends chat with Allie about life, characters and story ideas, as well as win gift cards each and every week!
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HEART OF THE KING by Bruce Blake
HEART OF THE KING
Khirro's Journey Book 3
by Bruce Blake
It began with a vial of blood, a curse, and a quest to a haunted land.
Now, Khirro's Journey comes to its end.
A king's spirit. A coward's heart. Together, a kingdom's last hope.
Sheyndust, the Archon, desires to be Necromancer and wield dark magic the likes of which the world has never seen. For years, her deadly plan has fallen into place piece by piece, treachery by treachery, death by death. With her enemies on their knees and an army of the dead at her command, nothing stands between her and the ultimate power for which she thirsts.
Nothing except a farmer and a dead king.
The curse that bound Khirro to his task was broken when the blood of the king spilled, but the king's spirit—a tyger of vengeful flame—burns bright within him. It pushes Khirro through hostile lands to return to his home. It pushes him to be more than he ever thought he could be despite the doubt and fear devouring him. It pushes him in a race against time to save the kingdom, a race he is bound to lose.
As the final pieces of the Archon's plot fall into place, and her power and army grow, it looks certain that all will be lost.
Unless a coward can look inside himself and find the heart of a king.
Now, Khirro's Journey comes to its end.
A king's spirit. A coward's heart. Together, a kingdom's last hope.
Sheyndust, the Archon, desires to be Necromancer and wield dark magic the likes of which the world has never seen. For years, her deadly plan has fallen into place piece by piece, treachery by treachery, death by death. With her enemies on their knees and an army of the dead at her command, nothing stands between her and the ultimate power for which she thirsts.
Nothing except a farmer and a dead king.
The curse that bound Khirro to his task was broken when the blood of the king spilled, but the king's spirit—a tyger of vengeful flame—burns bright within him. It pushes Khirro through hostile lands to return to his home. It pushes him to be more than he ever thought he could be despite the doubt and fear devouring him. It pushes him in a race against time to save the kingdom, a race he is bound to lose.
As the final pieces of the Archon's plot fall into place, and her power and army grow, it looks certain that all will be lost.
Unless a coward can look inside himself and find the heart of a king.
Chapter One
“They’re coming.”
Therrador sat on the pile of dirty straw, elbows on his knees, head hung. He didn’t raise his head when he heard the words.
Enough days had passed for him to lose track of their number; the guards had woken him every time he appeared to doze, and brought only water enough to keep him alive, nothing more. No food, no change of clothes, no medicine. The filthy bandage wrapped around his hand reeked of infection, and the stump of thumb hidden beneath ached with numb pain, though not so much as the untended wound in his thigh.
“They’re coming.”
A woman’s voice spoke the words, so he knew it to be either hallucination or the Archon toying with him. He had no interest in either.
“They still carry the essence of the king.”
The muscles in Therrador’s back and shoulders went rigid at the last words.
“Leave me be, witch. Haven’t you punished me enough?” His voice cracked in his parched throat and its tone of defeat surprised and embarrassed him.
The temperature in the cell dropped, and the feeling of a presence beside him brought goose flesh to Therrador’s arms. He looked up into the burning green eyes of a young woman, her freckled cheeks framed by red curls, and thought she might be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
A trick.
“I am Elyea. I’m here to help you.”
“You’re not real,” Therrador croaked. “You’re another of the Archon’s tortures.”
“I’m not.”
She crouched in front of him and held her hand out to him. In the dim light cast by the torch in the passage outside the cell, and with his lack of strength and focus, it took a minute for Therrador to realize she held a cup.
Hallucinating like a dying man in the desert.
He stared at it but made no move to accept it. The woman didn’t move, either.
“Take it.”
Therrador considered for another moment before reaching out a weak and shaking hand. His fingers brushed the side of the clay mug, felt its solidity, its realness. Saliva rushed into his mouth at the thought the cup may contain relief from the thirst burning at the back of his throat, but he kept his eagerness carefully hidden. His fingers wrapped around the vessel’s cool surface and brought it close to his face; he peered over the lip at the liquid inside.
It looked like water.
He leaned closer to it and sniffed deeply.
No odor.
The edge of the cup touched his mouth and a splash of water lapped against his lips. Cool, tasteless. He slurped a little onto his tongue, the promise it held making his parched throat howl for more and, before he could stop himself, Therrador quaffed the water as fast as his mouth would take it. Water spilled over his chin, ran down his neck into his shirt. The cup’s supply never seemed to end allowing him to drink and drink and drink.
He drank until his belly hurt.
Energy flowed back into the king’s limbs. He pulled his mouth away from the rim of the cup and tilted his head back, drawing a satisfied breath in through his nose before gazing at the woman’s face. Her full lips tilted up at the corners in a gentle smile, her eyes shone. He didn’t know her, had never seen her before, but inexplicably felt he should trust her.
“Elyea, is it?” he whispered. “Who is coming?”
“You’ll know him when he comes, but he’ll need your help.”
Therrador scratched his stubbled cheek, felt the heat of fever burning in his head, and wondered if this woman and her words could be real. He turned the clay cup between his fingers; it felt real enough.
If the man bearing the king’s blood was coming, and he aided him, perhaps the Archon might be defeated. But this knowledge of her enemy’s inevitable arrival might also be the bargaining chip he needed to get his son back. He looked toward the cell door and saw the shadow of his undead guard beyond, so leaned toward the woman. She smelled of roses.
“When will he come?”
“Soon, and there will be a battle. That is where your help will be needed. Not even the king’s spirit can defeat the army of Kanos without help.”
Therrador nodded and stroked the long beard trailing from his chin, the braid which normally held it in place abandoned soon after he landed in the dungeon cell.
“I’ll need out of here.”
“I can’t help with that; it’s up to you. But I can help with this.”
The tips of her fingers brushed his wounded thigh. Pain flared along Therrador’s leg as if she’d touched him with a lit torch, and he sucked a breath between his clenched teeth, biting down against the agonized cry in his throat. The wound throbbed and burned, his body tensed. She pressed her palm flat against it and, a minute later, the pain settled to a tingling sensation, then finally disappeared.
The woman removed her hand and Therrador replaced her touch with his own. The flesh felt tender and sore, but the wound was gone. He raised his right hand wrapped in the stinking bandage, hoping she would do the same for the wound beneath the gray cloth. She looked at it and shook her head, then stood, and Therrador saw her form was translucent.
“You have some time, but not much.”
The imprisoned king stared as she seemed to float across the cell toward the door, feet hidden beneath her long white gown. She didn’t pause when she reached the bars, but passed through and faded from sight like a morning mist burned away by midday sun.
A ghost?
Therrador touched the back of his hand to his forehead and found his fever had broken, disappeared along with the wound to his leg. Perhaps sickness and hallucination weren’t to blame. The king had never believed in apparitions, but neither did he believe in men brought back from the dead until they laid siege to the fortress. It had been a season of oddities: the king’s blood, undead soldiers, and now a spirit come to his aid.
Is this an opportunity to save my son, or is my mind finally snapping in two?
If the ghost’s words were true, he had little time to decide which was the case and how to best use it to his advantage.
He rose from the filthy straw, joints creaking with disuse, and brushed dirt from the seat of his breeches before taking an unsteady step toward the cell door. When his previously injured leg didn’t falter beneath him, he strode across the floor, energized by the ghostly woman’s water. He reached the bars and wrapped the fingers of his good hand around the cold steel, pulled his face close. A short way down the hall, his undead guard stood motionless, staring at the blank wall ahead, as always.
It didn’t see the woman.
“Guard,” he called, his voice strong and filled with the authority bred of years commanding men. “I need to see the Archon. Now.”
Therrador sat on the pile of dirty straw, elbows on his knees, head hung. He didn’t raise his head when he heard the words.
Enough days had passed for him to lose track of their number; the guards had woken him every time he appeared to doze, and brought only water enough to keep him alive, nothing more. No food, no change of clothes, no medicine. The filthy bandage wrapped around his hand reeked of infection, and the stump of thumb hidden beneath ached with numb pain, though not so much as the untended wound in his thigh.
“They’re coming.”
A woman’s voice spoke the words, so he knew it to be either hallucination or the Archon toying with him. He had no interest in either.
“They still carry the essence of the king.”
The muscles in Therrador’s back and shoulders went rigid at the last words.
“Leave me be, witch. Haven’t you punished me enough?” His voice cracked in his parched throat and its tone of defeat surprised and embarrassed him.
The temperature in the cell dropped, and the feeling of a presence beside him brought goose flesh to Therrador’s arms. He looked up into the burning green eyes of a young woman, her freckled cheeks framed by red curls, and thought she might be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
A trick.
“I am Elyea. I’m here to help you.”
“You’re not real,” Therrador croaked. “You’re another of the Archon’s tortures.”
“I’m not.”
She crouched in front of him and held her hand out to him. In the dim light cast by the torch in the passage outside the cell, and with his lack of strength and focus, it took a minute for Therrador to realize she held a cup.
Hallucinating like a dying man in the desert.
He stared at it but made no move to accept it. The woman didn’t move, either.
“Take it.”
Therrador considered for another moment before reaching out a weak and shaking hand. His fingers brushed the side of the clay mug, felt its solidity, its realness. Saliva rushed into his mouth at the thought the cup may contain relief from the thirst burning at the back of his throat, but he kept his eagerness carefully hidden. His fingers wrapped around the vessel’s cool surface and brought it close to his face; he peered over the lip at the liquid inside.
It looked like water.
He leaned closer to it and sniffed deeply.
No odor.
The edge of the cup touched his mouth and a splash of water lapped against his lips. Cool, tasteless. He slurped a little onto his tongue, the promise it held making his parched throat howl for more and, before he could stop himself, Therrador quaffed the water as fast as his mouth would take it. Water spilled over his chin, ran down his neck into his shirt. The cup’s supply never seemed to end allowing him to drink and drink and drink.
He drank until his belly hurt.
Energy flowed back into the king’s limbs. He pulled his mouth away from the rim of the cup and tilted his head back, drawing a satisfied breath in through his nose before gazing at the woman’s face. Her full lips tilted up at the corners in a gentle smile, her eyes shone. He didn’t know her, had never seen her before, but inexplicably felt he should trust her.
“Elyea, is it?” he whispered. “Who is coming?”
“You’ll know him when he comes, but he’ll need your help.”
Therrador scratched his stubbled cheek, felt the heat of fever burning in his head, and wondered if this woman and her words could be real. He turned the clay cup between his fingers; it felt real enough.
If the man bearing the king’s blood was coming, and he aided him, perhaps the Archon might be defeated. But this knowledge of her enemy’s inevitable arrival might also be the bargaining chip he needed to get his son back. He looked toward the cell door and saw the shadow of his undead guard beyond, so leaned toward the woman. She smelled of roses.
“When will he come?”
“Soon, and there will be a battle. That is where your help will be needed. Not even the king’s spirit can defeat the army of Kanos without help.”
Therrador nodded and stroked the long beard trailing from his chin, the braid which normally held it in place abandoned soon after he landed in the dungeon cell.
“I’ll need out of here.”
“I can’t help with that; it’s up to you. But I can help with this.”
The tips of her fingers brushed his wounded thigh. Pain flared along Therrador’s leg as if she’d touched him with a lit torch, and he sucked a breath between his clenched teeth, biting down against the agonized cry in his throat. The wound throbbed and burned, his body tensed. She pressed her palm flat against it and, a minute later, the pain settled to a tingling sensation, then finally disappeared.
The woman removed her hand and Therrador replaced her touch with his own. The flesh felt tender and sore, but the wound was gone. He raised his right hand wrapped in the stinking bandage, hoping she would do the same for the wound beneath the gray cloth. She looked at it and shook her head, then stood, and Therrador saw her form was translucent.
“You have some time, but not much.”
The imprisoned king stared as she seemed to float across the cell toward the door, feet hidden beneath her long white gown. She didn’t pause when she reached the bars, but passed through and faded from sight like a morning mist burned away by midday sun.
A ghost?
Therrador touched the back of his hand to his forehead and found his fever had broken, disappeared along with the wound to his leg. Perhaps sickness and hallucination weren’t to blame. The king had never believed in apparitions, but neither did he believe in men brought back from the dead until they laid siege to the fortress. It had been a season of oddities: the king’s blood, undead soldiers, and now a spirit come to his aid.
Is this an opportunity to save my son, or is my mind finally snapping in two?
If the ghost’s words were true, he had little time to decide which was the case and how to best use it to his advantage.
He rose from the filthy straw, joints creaking with disuse, and brushed dirt from the seat of his breeches before taking an unsteady step toward the cell door. When his previously injured leg didn’t falter beneath him, he strode across the floor, energized by the ghostly woman’s water. He reached the bars and wrapped the fingers of his good hand around the cold steel, pulled his face close. A short way down the hall, his undead guard stood motionless, staring at the blank wall ahead, as always.
It didn’t see the woman.
“Guard,” he called, his voice strong and filled with the authority bred of years commanding men. “I need to see the Archon. Now.”
Blood of the King ✯ Spirit of the King
Bruce Blake lives on Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada. When pressing issues like shovelling snow and building igloos don't take up his spare time, Bruce can be found taking the dog sled to the nearest coffee shop to work on his short stories and novels.Actually, Victoria, B.C. is only a couple hours north of Seattle, Wash., where more rain is seen than snow. Since snow isn't really a pressing issue, Bruce spends more time trying to remember to leave the "u" out of words like "colour" and "neighbour" than he does shovelling (and watch out for those pesky double l's). The father of two, Bruce is also the trophy husband of a burlesque diva.
September 20, 2016
Terra Nova by Christine Hart
TERRA NOVA
Book #3 of The Variant Conspiracy
by Christine Hart
The end of humanity and an unrecognizable future Earth are now days away. After their first glimpse of the Terra Nova virus, Irina and her variant friends know their former employer’s plans are almost at hand. Their failed attempt to publicize Ivan and Innoviro Industries’ horrific activities has left them utterly reliant on their own wits and weapons.
After surviving a catastrophic earthquake in San Francisco and destroying a secret viral testing facility, Irina’s crew has traveled by a variant portal to London. On the other side of the world, they begin tracking when and where Terra Nova will be unleashed on the world. They know stopping Terra Nova is only the beginning of unraveling Ivan’s plans to reinvent the planet, but if they can’t stop this virus, there will be no one left to save.
After surviving a catastrophic earthquake in San Francisco and destroying a secret viral testing facility, Irina’s crew has traveled by a variant portal to London. On the other side of the world, they begin tracking when and where Terra Nova will be unleashed on the world. They know stopping Terra Nova is only the beginning of unraveling Ivan’s plans to reinvent the planet, but if they can’t stop this virus, there will be no one left to save.
Faith returned with four glowing green drinks in a cup holder tray. Clear plastic cups, lids, and straws let the liquid inside glow through. It smacked of something that would spawn ninja turtles. “These are the Incinerator’s own toxic spills. They’re just vodka and sprite with a capful of that crap they put in glow sticks. Did you know you can drink that shit?”
Jonah reluctantly took a plastic cup. “Are you sure we should drink it?”
“It’s not going to kill us. No more so than the alcohol.” Ilya picked up a cup and took a long generous pull on his straw.
I took an experimental sip. It tasted like vodka and sprite. There was a mildly synthetic aftertaste, but nothing toxic. I took another, much larger sip. Aha – the warmth I’d been craving since my shower. I might stand a chance of sleeping tonight after all.
Jonah followed my lead and took a slurp on his straw, pausing to let the liquid do its work. He leered at me with a devilish grin and grabbed my hand, pulling me off to the dance floor. His touch radiated energy into me, right through my skin waking up every cell in my body.
He leaned down and kissed me, running his hands through my hair. His powerful grip felt restrained, as though his mind fought to control his body. The intensity surpassed our first night together. After we had spent so long mocked by his unstable mutation, first hurting me and then nearly killing him, we were both finally stronger than ever.
“I can’t help myself. I need to touch you. I don’t ever want to let you go. We’re going to make up for some lost time tonight.” His lips brushed my ear as he spoke. His fingers traced the line of my neck and it sent shivers down my spine. So much for sleep!
Jonah reluctantly took a plastic cup. “Are you sure we should drink it?”
“It’s not going to kill us. No more so than the alcohol.” Ilya picked up a cup and took a long generous pull on his straw.
I took an experimental sip. It tasted like vodka and sprite. There was a mildly synthetic aftertaste, but nothing toxic. I took another, much larger sip. Aha – the warmth I’d been craving since my shower. I might stand a chance of sleeping tonight after all.
Jonah followed my lead and took a slurp on his straw, pausing to let the liquid do its work. He leered at me with a devilish grin and grabbed my hand, pulling me off to the dance floor. His touch radiated energy into me, right through my skin waking up every cell in my body.
He leaned down and kissed me, running his hands through my hair. His powerful grip felt restrained, as though his mind fought to control his body. The intensity surpassed our first night together. After we had spent so long mocked by his unstable mutation, first hurting me and then nearly killing him, we were both finally stronger than ever.
“I can’t help myself. I need to touch you. I don’t ever want to let you go. We’re going to make up for some lost time tonight.” His lips brushed my ear as he spoke. His fingers traced the line of my neck and it sent shivers down my spine. So much for sleep!
In Irina’s Cards is the story of 19-year-old Irina Proffer who discovers a world of fringe genetic science and supernatural mystery. Following visions inspired by a strange deck of tarot cards, Irina learns of an amazing variation in her genetic code. She has the ability to see the past, present and future, in her life and the lives around her.Irina sets out from her northern home for BC's coastal capital to get answers. She is drawn in by a powerful first love and a compelling, yet dangerous mystery. Working at Innoviro Industries and meeting other 'variants' brings Irina closer and closer to the dark truth about her origins. She finds herself at the heart of two overlapping love triangles as she scrambles to escape her employer's grip. At the close of the novel, Irina realizes she has merely scratched the surface of a frightening conspiracy on a global scale.
“You know what they say about the people here in Victoria, right?” said Jonah, as he watched me watch everyone else.
“No, I can’t say that I do. More money than they know what to do with?”
“True, but not as bad as Vancouver. Ever heard of the saying ‘newlyweds and nearly deads’ or as my mom says, ‘God’s waiting room.’”
“Kind of a dark way to look at things, isn’t it?”
“My mom’s a dark lady, but hilarious. I hope you don’t mind, but I also invited Cole and his sister. You’ll love this little restaurant. It’s got awesome food and live music, but not too hipster-ish,” said Jonah.
Something dropped in my chest. If Cole brought his sister, we were just a group of friends going for dinner. I felt silly for having thought that we were going on a date. We turned another corner and Jonah pulled the car over next to a brick building with a 50’s style neon sign that read ‘Cymbals’ next to a caricature of a drum set. I followed Jonah through the wrought iron gate and looked up at the oak tree on the lawn next to the patio. Tiny fresh leaves and new buds covered the gnarled old tree. It was also home to dozens and dozens of sneakers, canvas shoes, skate shoes, oxfords – basically any kind of shoe with laces to tie together.
The air felt warm enough to linger, so I walked over to the tree and looked upward. I smiled. I reached up to one of the lower branches and touched one of the shoes. The yard and the tree melted away. I saw the face of a girl with faintly bluish skin and platinum hair. She turned and I saw two leather-like wings flex and relax. Her shirt had been cut to make room for her wings which stretched out past the frayed edges of the fabric. She was standing in a sewer or catacomb.
Faces milled around the winged girl. It wasn’t quite like a party, maybe more like a camp. An older lady standing next to the winged girl reached down to the ground. She pinched the concrete and plucked something, maybe a stone, off the surface. The stone wriggled. It was a camouflaged beetle, exactly like the one I’d seen on my first day in the city. She lifted the beetle to her mouth and I reeled back.
The yard outside Cymbals surrounded me again in a blink. Jonah stared at me. I noticed my arm had stayed raised beneath the shoes and withdrew it.
“Are you all right?”
“No, I can’t say that I do. More money than they know what to do with?”
“True, but not as bad as Vancouver. Ever heard of the saying ‘newlyweds and nearly deads’ or as my mom says, ‘God’s waiting room.’”
“Kind of a dark way to look at things, isn’t it?”
“My mom’s a dark lady, but hilarious. I hope you don’t mind, but I also invited Cole and his sister. You’ll love this little restaurant. It’s got awesome food and live music, but not too hipster-ish,” said Jonah.
Something dropped in my chest. If Cole brought his sister, we were just a group of friends going for dinner. I felt silly for having thought that we were going on a date. We turned another corner and Jonah pulled the car over next to a brick building with a 50’s style neon sign that read ‘Cymbals’ next to a caricature of a drum set. I followed Jonah through the wrought iron gate and looked up at the oak tree on the lawn next to the patio. Tiny fresh leaves and new buds covered the gnarled old tree. It was also home to dozens and dozens of sneakers, canvas shoes, skate shoes, oxfords – basically any kind of shoe with laces to tie together.
The air felt warm enough to linger, so I walked over to the tree and looked upward. I smiled. I reached up to one of the lower branches and touched one of the shoes. The yard and the tree melted away. I saw the face of a girl with faintly bluish skin and platinum hair. She turned and I saw two leather-like wings flex and relax. Her shirt had been cut to make room for her wings which stretched out past the frayed edges of the fabric. She was standing in a sewer or catacomb.
Faces milled around the winged girl. It wasn’t quite like a party, maybe more like a camp. An older lady standing next to the winged girl reached down to the ground. She pinched the concrete and plucked something, maybe a stone, off the surface. The stone wriggled. It was a camouflaged beetle, exactly like the one I’d seen on my first day in the city. She lifted the beetle to her mouth and I reeled back.
The yard outside Cymbals surrounded me again in a blink. Jonah stared at me. I noticed my arm had stayed raised beneath the shoes and withdrew it.
“Are you all right?”
Irina and her renegade variant friends are scrambling to pick up the trail of their former employer, Ivan, and his globally catastrophic scheme. After strategically sharing their story with the media, the group heads south from Vancouver to Seattle hoping to recruit more experienced—and lethal—variants to their cause.Their attention develops a laser focus on an engineered disaster mere days ahead of them. Ivan is using what staff and resources remain of Innoviro Industries to set off a violent earthquake in San Francisco. While they fight to stop the earthquake, Irina pushes the love of her life Jonah as far away as she can, trying to keep his unstable genetic degradation in check.
Irina’s friends think they’ve seen the worst that Innoviro could bring forth by the time they reach a secret facility in the Mojave Desert. As they near the property, the group uncovers a horror none of them had ever imagined.
I awoke standing on an orange cliff under a purple sky. An unfamiliar canyon wound under the horizon on either side. I looked down to see a river of metallic sludge oozing along the canyon floor. Chunks of debris floated in the sludge. Steam intermittently bubbled here and there. The sky darkened as I watched the river. Lights streaked across the sky, red and white, blinking. Black pellets fell from the lights, exploding in the distance as they hit the ground.
A figure walked through the smoke left by an explosion on the cliff directly opposite from me. While the smoke cleared, Ivan reached the edge of the cliff. His face distorted with a ripple. He reached up with both arms, burying his hands in his hair. His fingertips pulled on his scalp. Ivan’s expression melted. He peeled off his face in a downward motion taking the rest of his body with it. In Ivan’s place stood a red-eyed humanoid reptile with giant curling horns, identical to what I’d seen reflected in the window of Ivan’s apartment.
The horned figure let out a ferocious roar. The ground shook. The landscape shivered until the canyon transformed into a green valley below dry sage-covered hills. Ivan seemed himself again, smiling and tapping his wristwatch, strolling toward me. I shuddered, shaking my head. The green grass floor trembled and a crack opened horizontally between us. Trembling turned to shaking. The crack ripped into the ground in both directions until a canyon separated us.
A hand brushed my cheek. I whirled to find the source of the touch. I found myself lying in bed back in the guest bedroom in Josh’s farm house. I shouted and sat up.
A figure walked through the smoke left by an explosion on the cliff directly opposite from me. While the smoke cleared, Ivan reached the edge of the cliff. His face distorted with a ripple. He reached up with both arms, burying his hands in his hair. His fingertips pulled on his scalp. Ivan’s expression melted. He peeled off his face in a downward motion taking the rest of his body with it. In Ivan’s place stood a red-eyed humanoid reptile with giant curling horns, identical to what I’d seen reflected in the window of Ivan’s apartment.
The horned figure let out a ferocious roar. The ground shook. The landscape shivered until the canyon transformed into a green valley below dry sage-covered hills. Ivan seemed himself again, smiling and tapping his wristwatch, strolling toward me. I shuddered, shaking my head. The green grass floor trembled and a crack opened horizontally between us. Trembling turned to shaking. The crack ripped into the ground in both directions until a canyon separated us.
A hand brushed my cheek. I whirled to find the source of the touch. I found myself lying in bed back in the guest bedroom in Josh’s farm house. I shouted and sat up.
Located on BC’s beautiful West Coast, I write from my suburban Burnaby home staring at North Vancouver’s iconic Coast Mountains. I love writing about places and spaces with rich history and visually fascinating elements as a backdrop for the surreal and spectacular.In addition to my undergraduate degree in writing and literature, my background also includes corporate communications and design. I am a current member of the Federation of BC Writers and SF Canada.
When not writing, I have a habit of breaking stuff and making stuff – in that order – under the guise of my Etsy alter-ego Sleepless Storyteller. I share my eclectic home and lifestyle with my husband, baby daughter and preschool son.
Fallen Death by RB Austin
FALLEN DEATH
Book #3 of The Trihune Series
by RB Austin
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Hurt. Maim. Kill.
An explosive, volatile demon lives inside Sarid.
The monster seeks murder and destruction. The man seeks peace; or a silence that can only be found in death.
Until he meets her.
But his secret could ruin everything.
The monster seeks murder and destruction. The man seeks peace; or a silence that can only be found in death.
Until he meets her.
But his secret could ruin everything.
Trust her instincts.
Asjhone will do anything to keep her son safe. She conceals her terror during the day, but when the sun goes down, it’s locks, chains, and nightmares.
Until she meets him.
Sarid is everything she’s dreamed of. He adores her son, is kind, and would never hurt her.
But her secret could ruin everything.
Until she meets him.
Sarid is everything she’s dreamed of. He adores her son, is kind, and would never hurt her.
But her secret could ruin everything.
Life is made up of choices.
Lose his life or lose his love? Run from her past or stand up and fight?
They must confront their pasts together, and fight for their future against a demon determined to win.
They must confront their pasts together, and fight for their future against a demon determined to win.
“Your turn, what do you do?” Asjhone said.
“I . . . work in security,” Sarid answered.
“Security? I thought you were a college professor or maybe worked at a museum.” At his puzzled expression, she continued. “The pastor said you were a historian.”
“Ah. Well, no. I’m not a teacher.”
“Security, huh?” She studied him.
Every spot her gaze touched, his body warmed. Face. Chest. Shoulders. Arms.
“I can see that. For a company?”
“A private company.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s what I’m good at.”
An eyebrow lifted. “That doesn’t really answer the question.”
His lips turned up at the corners before quickly falling. “My job gives me a sense of purpose. The sense that maybe I’m doing good in the world. Sometimes, also, a feeling that I am worthy.”
Her expression softened. She reached across the table, stopped inches from his hand. “Worthy of what?”
He wanted to close that distance. Mesmerized by her stare and closeness, he answered truthfully. “Life.”
She inhaled sharply and her gaze immediately swung to Keandre. Sarid’s did, too. Keandre was watching them, forehead scrunched.
Sarid’s hand tightened on the fork, so hard he felt it bend. He lowered his head and with careful movements, set the utensil on the table. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
Then her hand was covering his, squeezing gently. “No. It’s—”
“My dad was a Marine.”
Asjhone startled, then, “Keandre, interrupting is rude.”
“Sorry.” The boy’s gaze didn’t move from Sarid. “He won a medal. He died serving the country. He’s a hero. That’s what the medal says. Isn’t that right, Mom?”
“Keandre!” Asjhone whispered sharply. “Now isn’t the time.”
“Your dad sounded like a brave man,” Sarid said quietly.
Keandre stared at him with suspicion. “Do you like camping?”
“I used to sleep outside with the stars above as my nightlight.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Without a tent?”
“Yes. Hunted for my own food, too. Cooked it over a fire.”
“Wow.” Then he snapped his mouth shut, narrowed his eyes. “What about basketball?”
“I play with my brothers sometimes.”
“I play with Devan. And sometimes Devan’s dad plays, too. Me and Devan team up against him. Last time we won.” He beamed.
“You must be a very good player.”
“I am.” Keandre scratched his chin, then, “I want a dog.”
“Dogs are loyal. I could never have a pet, but if I did I think I’d want a dog.”
“I know, me, too. I mean, I have fish.” He rolled his eyes. “But they don’t do anything. A dog can play fetch and run outside and sleep in your bed. Devan has a dog. It’s super cool. When he goes camping with his dad, they take the dog. His name’s Trevor. When I get a dog, I’m going to name him Ben.”
Sarid blinked. “Ben’s a good name for a dog.”
“Yeah, I think so, too. Mom says we can’t get a dog because we live in an apartment. But Devan has a dog and when he has to go outside, they just put him on a leash and walk him out. I’ve done that before with Devan. It’s not hard at all. I could totally do it. Don’t you think I could do it?”
Sarid glanced at Asjhone. A myriad of emotions flashed across her face. She either wanted to laugh, get angry, or cry. “How about we clear the table and then you can show me the hero super masher in your room?”
“Okay,” Keandre laughed. “But it’s Super Hero Masher.” He picked up his half-eaten pie and almost empty glass and ran into the kitchen.
“I . . . work in security,” Sarid answered.
“Security? I thought you were a college professor or maybe worked at a museum.” At his puzzled expression, she continued. “The pastor said you were a historian.”
“Ah. Well, no. I’m not a teacher.”
“Security, huh?” She studied him.
Every spot her gaze touched, his body warmed. Face. Chest. Shoulders. Arms.
“I can see that. For a company?”
“A private company.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s what I’m good at.”
An eyebrow lifted. “That doesn’t really answer the question.”
His lips turned up at the corners before quickly falling. “My job gives me a sense of purpose. The sense that maybe I’m doing good in the world. Sometimes, also, a feeling that I am worthy.”
Her expression softened. She reached across the table, stopped inches from his hand. “Worthy of what?”
He wanted to close that distance. Mesmerized by her stare and closeness, he answered truthfully. “Life.”
She inhaled sharply and her gaze immediately swung to Keandre. Sarid’s did, too. Keandre was watching them, forehead scrunched.
Sarid’s hand tightened on the fork, so hard he felt it bend. He lowered his head and with careful movements, set the utensil on the table. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
Then her hand was covering his, squeezing gently. “No. It’s—”
“My dad was a Marine.”
Asjhone startled, then, “Keandre, interrupting is rude.”
“Sorry.” The boy’s gaze didn’t move from Sarid. “He won a medal. He died serving the country. He’s a hero. That’s what the medal says. Isn’t that right, Mom?”
“Keandre!” Asjhone whispered sharply. “Now isn’t the time.”
“Your dad sounded like a brave man,” Sarid said quietly.
Keandre stared at him with suspicion. “Do you like camping?”
“I used to sleep outside with the stars above as my nightlight.”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Without a tent?”
“Yes. Hunted for my own food, too. Cooked it over a fire.”
“Wow.” Then he snapped his mouth shut, narrowed his eyes. “What about basketball?”
“I play with my brothers sometimes.”
“I play with Devan. And sometimes Devan’s dad plays, too. Me and Devan team up against him. Last time we won.” He beamed.
“You must be a very good player.”
“I am.” Keandre scratched his chin, then, “I want a dog.”
“Dogs are loyal. I could never have a pet, but if I did I think I’d want a dog.”
“I know, me, too. I mean, I have fish.” He rolled his eyes. “But they don’t do anything. A dog can play fetch and run outside and sleep in your bed. Devan has a dog. It’s super cool. When he goes camping with his dad, they take the dog. His name’s Trevor. When I get a dog, I’m going to name him Ben.”
Sarid blinked. “Ben’s a good name for a dog.”
“Yeah, I think so, too. Mom says we can’t get a dog because we live in an apartment. But Devan has a dog and when he has to go outside, they just put him on a leash and walk him out. I’ve done that before with Devan. It’s not hard at all. I could totally do it. Don’t you think I could do it?”
Sarid glanced at Asjhone. A myriad of emotions flashed across her face. She either wanted to laugh, get angry, or cry. “How about we clear the table and then you can show me the hero super masher in your room?”
“Okay,” Keandre laughed. “But it’s Super Hero Masher.” He picked up his half-eaten pie and almost empty glass and ran into the kitchen.
A fantastic read By DMBaca
I loved this book. RB Austin is a master story teller. This story pulls you in and doesn't let go until the end. The characters are well developed and well written. I can't wait to read the others in the series by this author.
Hurt, Maim, Kill.... Can you imagine dealing with an evil presence within yourself every minute of the day? By Rebecca
Fallen Death is my favorite of the Fallen books by RB Austin....so far!
I love reading books involving inner conflict, strong characters, and good vs. evil. This story has all that and more.
Hurt, Maim, Kill.... Can you imagine dealing with an evil presence within yourself every minute of the day, let alone controlling it to keep innocent people safe? I'm not talking about a bully....this evil Other will literally rip a heart out and slice it up for dessert....women, children, co workers...no one is safe.
Sarid's soul is meshed together with this evil soul who surfaces like the Incredible Hulk. The Other speaks to Sarid and sometimes all hell breaks loose.
Asjhone's character is strong, silent about her past, and very protective of her son. She is unaware of the paranormal world she is about to be thrown into and huge, scaly, dragon-monsters are not nearly as scary as her estranged husband.
When I read Austin's first two books, I was really nervous when the characters I cared about stood even close Sarid...would he be in control or would the Other within him break free? To read a book from Sarid's perspective was amazing. I hated the demon, loved the demon, and now can't wait to see what Austin will write next.
I recommend Fallen Death to Paranormal-Suspense-Thriller readers who enjoy reading a bit of steamy romance. Nice combo!
I loved this book. RB Austin is a master story teller. This story pulls you in and doesn't let go until the end. The characters are well developed and well written. I can't wait to read the others in the series by this author.
Hurt, Maim, Kill.... Can you imagine dealing with an evil presence within yourself every minute of the day? By Rebecca
Fallen Death is my favorite of the Fallen books by RB Austin....so far!
I love reading books involving inner conflict, strong characters, and good vs. evil. This story has all that and more.
Hurt, Maim, Kill.... Can you imagine dealing with an evil presence within yourself every minute of the day, let alone controlling it to keep innocent people safe? I'm not talking about a bully....this evil Other will literally rip a heart out and slice it up for dessert....women, children, co workers...no one is safe.
Sarid's soul is meshed together with this evil soul who surfaces like the Incredible Hulk. The Other speaks to Sarid and sometimes all hell breaks loose.
Asjhone's character is strong, silent about her past, and very protective of her son. She is unaware of the paranormal world she is about to be thrown into and huge, scaly, dragon-monsters are not nearly as scary as her estranged husband.
When I read Austin's first two books, I was really nervous when the characters I cared about stood even close Sarid...would he be in control or would the Other within him break free? To read a book from Sarid's perspective was amazing. I hated the demon, loved the demon, and now can't wait to see what Austin will write next.
I recommend Fallen Death to Paranormal-Suspense-Thriller readers who enjoy reading a bit of steamy romance. Nice combo!
Fallen Redemption ✯ Fallen Darkness
RB Austin enjoys torturing dogs (dressing her Cairn terrier in knitted sweaters and booties), embarrassing her daughter (singing in the car . . . at the top of her lungs . . . with the windows open . . . at a stop light), and indulging in the second deadliest sin (chocolate, Swedish fish, chocolate, sour patch watermelons, and chocolate).This author’s love of the sun puts in her in the more-than-likely-not-a-vampire category, unless you’re referring to the bloodsuckers in her Trihune series, then all bets are off.
Feeling stalkerish? Visit her website, and learn where she hangs out on the Interwebs.
MoB Promotions
September 19, 2016
New from Maria Savva
Hello, everyone - writers and readers...here's a treat for you!
Available now!
Maria Savva has released a new story called, The Spider, which is available now!
I've been lucky enough to read it (preen) and it's fabulous, although, you may like to keep on the light when you do.
UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Spider-Maria...
USA link: https://www.amazon.com/Spider-Maria-S...
What a fantastically spooky cover!
***
Blurb:
‘No one’s ever come out of that house alive...’
What lurks behind the door of 8 Goldfern Road?
Are you brave enough to step inside?
By entering the sinister house, George and Glen become entangled in a dangerous battle of wills.
“The Spider” is a story of obsession, infidelity, and broken dreams
***
Here's what I think:
As always, Maria Savva writes with skill, stories that immediately hook you - The Spider is no exception.
It's not easy saying too much without spoilers, but I will say that this story is spooky, mysterious, intriguing and thought-provoking. The characters are well-developed, realistic and believable, despite the fantasy /paranormal story line.
Its descriptions are deliciously atmospheric and...ooh, I can't say anything else...read it for yourself, you won't regret it.
Recommended read!!!
***
Although I love all Maria's stories, there are two further favourites I'm going to mention - The Dream and Haunted.
***
The Dream
UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dream-Maria-...
USA link: https://www.amazon.com/Dream-Maria-Sa...
***
Blurb:
Lynne cannot shake her feelings of dread; her dreams tell her she is making a terrible mistake, she must not marry Adam. But, how can she believe the dream? Lynne and Adam have shared their lives for three years now. She is certain she loves him.
It is not that love, which her dream warns against.
It doesn't matter that she loves this man she will soon marry. If she marries him, the voice in her dream says her soul mate will die. Her true love will perish.
Soon, Lynne's world is transformed and becomes almost unrecognisable, except for the déjà vu. Time doesn't seem to mean much anymore, and
things are not quite as they seem. As her world spins out of control, Lynne must sort out what's real and what isn't to fulfill her destiny.
***
My review:
I was intrigued from the start of this story, as it began with a delicious mystery, which continued to develop and then unfold with pleasing affect.
A clever tale, where its heroine, believable and likeable, helps the reader relate and sympathise with many of the `love' issues, yet pins us to our seats wondering what will happen next.
I thoroughly enjoyed the book and would recommend it to those who are fascinated by that `something extra', that something which allows the imagination to wander where enigma is the watchword.
***
Haunted
UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Haunted-Mari...
USA link: https://www.amazon.com/Haunted-Maria-...
***
Blurb:
Nigel Price has MURDER on his mind.
He can run but he cannot hide. Nigel's past has come back to haunt him. The truth is, his past has never left him... it follows him without remorse, catching him at every turn. There is no escape.
Regret, guilt, nightmares, despair... these fill his every waking hour and disturb his sleepless nights.
Take a trip inside Nigel's mind, in this dark, psychological thriller with a paranormal twist.
***
My review:
I was lucky enough to read this story in advance of publication and I loved it from beginning to end.
I really enjoyed the in-depth character building - so important to a story - where I could see into the minds of each of them, making for great reading. The plot was dark and clever and kept me guessing until the end.
The story gave great insight into the emotions of mankind, where guilt can create an obsessive and insane point of view. We can wonder what we'd do in the circumstances given in the plot and whether conscience is a spark for 'doing the right thing' and if we don't, we have to accept the consequences - these issues are dealt with creatively, yet never once leaving behind reality...cleverly done.
A fantastic read, well written within its many twists and turns, and so far, my favourite story by this talented author.
Highly recommended.
***
Aren't I lucky to have read them?
Maria is a talented and versatile author and I've enjoyed all her work - you will, too!
You can find Maria and more about her books here:
Website: http://www.mariasavva.com/site/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
Amazon: https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=cm_cr_...
Twitter: http://www.mariasavva.com/site/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mariasavva.a...
***
Great friend and writer, too. Wonderfully supportive to me and other independent authors.
Thank you!!!
Here's hoping all the best to you and your new book, Maria!
The best way you can support Maria is to buy her book /s and leave a review.
Thanks, everyone.
Available now!
Maria Savva has released a new story called, The Spider, which is available now!
I've been lucky enough to read it (preen) and it's fabulous, although, you may like to keep on the light when you do.
UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Spider-Maria...
USA link: https://www.amazon.com/Spider-Maria-S...
What a fantastically spooky cover!
***
Blurb:
‘No one’s ever come out of that house alive...’
What lurks behind the door of 8 Goldfern Road?
Are you brave enough to step inside?
By entering the sinister house, George and Glen become entangled in a dangerous battle of wills.
“The Spider” is a story of obsession, infidelity, and broken dreams
***
Here's what I think:
As always, Maria Savva writes with skill, stories that immediately hook you - The Spider is no exception.
It's not easy saying too much without spoilers, but I will say that this story is spooky, mysterious, intriguing and thought-provoking. The characters are well-developed, realistic and believable, despite the fantasy /paranormal story line.
Its descriptions are deliciously atmospheric and...ooh, I can't say anything else...read it for yourself, you won't regret it.
Recommended read!!!
***
Although I love all Maria's stories, there are two further favourites I'm going to mention - The Dream and Haunted.
***
The Dream
UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dream-Maria-...
USA link: https://www.amazon.com/Dream-Maria-Sa...
***
Blurb:
Lynne cannot shake her feelings of dread; her dreams tell her she is making a terrible mistake, she must not marry Adam. But, how can she believe the dream? Lynne and Adam have shared their lives for three years now. She is certain she loves him.
It is not that love, which her dream warns against.
It doesn't matter that she loves this man she will soon marry. If she marries him, the voice in her dream says her soul mate will die. Her true love will perish.
Soon, Lynne's world is transformed and becomes almost unrecognisable, except for the déjà vu. Time doesn't seem to mean much anymore, and
things are not quite as they seem. As her world spins out of control, Lynne must sort out what's real and what isn't to fulfill her destiny.
***
My review:
I was intrigued from the start of this story, as it began with a delicious mystery, which continued to develop and then unfold with pleasing affect.
A clever tale, where its heroine, believable and likeable, helps the reader relate and sympathise with many of the `love' issues, yet pins us to our seats wondering what will happen next.
I thoroughly enjoyed the book and would recommend it to those who are fascinated by that `something extra', that something which allows the imagination to wander where enigma is the watchword.
***
Haunted
UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Haunted-Mari...
USA link: https://www.amazon.com/Haunted-Maria-...
***
Blurb:
Nigel Price has MURDER on his mind.
He can run but he cannot hide. Nigel's past has come back to haunt him. The truth is, his past has never left him... it follows him without remorse, catching him at every turn. There is no escape.
Regret, guilt, nightmares, despair... these fill his every waking hour and disturb his sleepless nights.
Take a trip inside Nigel's mind, in this dark, psychological thriller with a paranormal twist.
***
My review:
I was lucky enough to read this story in advance of publication and I loved it from beginning to end.
I really enjoyed the in-depth character building - so important to a story - where I could see into the minds of each of them, making for great reading. The plot was dark and clever and kept me guessing until the end.
The story gave great insight into the emotions of mankind, where guilt can create an obsessive and insane point of view. We can wonder what we'd do in the circumstances given in the plot and whether conscience is a spark for 'doing the right thing' and if we don't, we have to accept the consequences - these issues are dealt with creatively, yet never once leaving behind reality...cleverly done.
A fantastic read, well written within its many twists and turns, and so far, my favourite story by this talented author.
Highly recommended.
***
Aren't I lucky to have read them?
Maria is a talented and versatile author and I've enjoyed all her work - you will, too!
You can find Maria and more about her books here:
Website: http://www.mariasavva.com/site/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
Amazon: https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=cm_cr_...
Twitter: http://www.mariasavva.com/site/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mariasavva.a...
***
Great friend and writer, too. Wonderfully supportive to me and other independent authors.
Thank you!!!
Here's hoping all the best to you and your new book, Maria!
The best way you can support Maria is to buy her book /s and leave a review.
Thanks, everyone.
People Are Strange
The Mind's Eye Series Book 5
How many of us think that people are strange? As a writer, I am constantly observing people's behaviour - yep, strange.
But what if you were given a photograph and asked to write something that was inspired by said photograph, all the while keeping in mind that people are strange?
Well, here is the result - 12 stories and 7 poems - each inspired by 19 photographs.
Universal Link: books2read.com/u/mYRppV
***
Two of the stories are mine: The Devil's Catch [paranormal] and Halflings [science-fiction] and I think they are brilliant!
But it wasn't just me - wow, I am honoured to be amongst these talented authors.
Maria Savva
Darcia Helle
Maria Haskins
J. Michael Radcliffe
Ben Ditmars
Helle Gade
Thomma Lyn Grindstaff
Photographs are from Helle Gade and Martin David Porter - just fabulous.
Thanks to Kim Stapf for allowing me to use one of her amazing photographs for the cover design. Oh, yes, I did that, too.
Not forgetting Robert Helle for his tireless work on the editing. I hope the differences in what we English think is correct spelling to the American way, didn't give you too many headaches.
***
Blurb:
We are more than what we say
And less than what we wish
Living together, separately,
United by division
Connected, disconnected
Oh, People Are Strange
***
My review:
Yes, I'm one of the authors of the collection, and yes, I think my two stories are brilliant!
However, this is what I think about the others...
These stories inspired by photographs (unusual and clever ones, too) have been drawn from a deep well of imagination - my favourite thing in writing. This is the perfect springboard for something different. And these stories are certainly that.
I'm not going to talk about any specifics, but will say that these tales are filled with spooky, creepy, mind-bending and downright odd topics. Some will make you smile, some screech while others will make your heart curl and your brain overload with the possibilities.
This collection will also give readers a glimpse into several authors and their amazing writing talent - and maybe they'll want to investigate further.
Loved them all - stories and poems and, of course, the fantastic photographs.
Well done, everyone. I'm a fan of you all.
Thanks, Bob, for spotting the typos - super editor. And thanks to Kim Stapf, who allowed me to use one of her photographs to design the front cover.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3...
***
What else can I say except - if you enjoy this collection of stories and poems, and appreciate the fabulous photographs, please think about posting a review .
How many of us think that people are strange? As a writer, I am constantly observing people's behaviour - yep, strange.
But what if you were given a photograph and asked to write something that was inspired by said photograph, all the while keeping in mind that people are strange?
Well, here is the result - 12 stories and 7 poems - each inspired by 19 photographs.
Universal Link: books2read.com/u/mYRppV
***
Two of the stories are mine: The Devil's Catch [paranormal] and Halflings [science-fiction] and I think they are brilliant!
But it wasn't just me - wow, I am honoured to be amongst these talented authors.
Maria Savva
Darcia Helle
Maria Haskins
J. Michael Radcliffe
Ben Ditmars
Helle Gade
Thomma Lyn Grindstaff
Photographs are from Helle Gade and Martin David Porter - just fabulous.
Thanks to Kim Stapf for allowing me to use one of her amazing photographs for the cover design. Oh, yes, I did that, too.
Not forgetting Robert Helle for his tireless work on the editing. I hope the differences in what we English think is correct spelling to the American way, didn't give you too many headaches.
***
Blurb:
We are more than what we say
And less than what we wish
Living together, separately,
United by division
Connected, disconnected
Oh, People Are Strange
***
My review:
Yes, I'm one of the authors of the collection, and yes, I think my two stories are brilliant!
However, this is what I think about the others...
These stories inspired by photographs (unusual and clever ones, too) have been drawn from a deep well of imagination - my favourite thing in writing. This is the perfect springboard for something different. And these stories are certainly that.
I'm not going to talk about any specifics, but will say that these tales are filled with spooky, creepy, mind-bending and downright odd topics. Some will make you smile, some screech while others will make your heart curl and your brain overload with the possibilities.
This collection will also give readers a glimpse into several authors and their amazing writing talent - and maybe they'll want to investigate further.
Loved them all - stories and poems and, of course, the fantastic photographs.
Well done, everyone. I'm a fan of you all.
Thanks, Bob, for spotting the typos - super editor. And thanks to Kim Stapf, who allowed me to use one of her photographs to design the front cover.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3...
***
What else can I say except - if you enjoy this collection of stories and poems, and appreciate the fabulous photographs, please think about posting a review .
Why did I write The Star Realm?
The simple answer as to why I wrote The Star Realm was because I'd created the world of Avalon for my first published book, Gone, and loved it.
But let me tell you more about it.
The world of Avalon came to me as I wrote Gone, developing enough so to answer the questions that had accumulated during the tough times of reality.
So how could I let it go to waste?
I knew that the wonderful world of Avalon would be the perfect setting for adventure - one more for children (about 12). Yet, I love stories that are meant for children, so what does that say about me? Let's say it's for 12ish /YA /young at heart.
I delight in fairy tales and the oh, so mysterious lands filled with enchantment and adventure, where anything can happen and rules can be broken (hmm, I have 'thing' about rules, but that's for another time).
Avalon is filled with mystery, magic, enchantment, danger, morals, questions and so much more.
Avalon is also the place where resides the Time Keeper, Ezrin, who is the one to call the five children. He leads them to the Glass Dome and after a ride in the Gyro-Monitor, they spy the Orb of Caprice - a giant orb which is made up of countless heptagonal pieces, each a different world - and so are allowed to visit the Star Realm.
Upon entering the Star Realm, Puzzle Woods is on the left of a huge meadow - a place of danger, mystery and the unexpected - and on the right is the Elysian Forest - where cascades the waterfall into the Rainbow Pool. Across from the Pool is another path which leads...
There is also a village, which houses the smithy, the bakery, the inn and the bookshop...and another place of secrets.
There are many characters within this world, ranging from goblins, fairies, talking flowers, a witch, an angel and...
One of my favourite characters, Chamber (the Gatekeeper to Puzzle Woods), waits patiently as folks cross the meadow and ask to enter the Woods (now why would they?) And within the Woods is...
So, Davie, Ben, Anne, Chrissie and Billy begin the quest...
*****
Here is their first encounter with Chamber:
The man appeared massive close up, even though he was sitting on a wooden chair that seemed to be slowly sinking into the soft earth. He had an abundance of dark, shaggy hair, which fell across his eyes as he concentrated on the book, while his tattered clothes strained to fit him, the collarless, grey shirt alone more frayed than Billy’s oldest jeans…and they’d been passed down from Jimmy. His trousers so dirty they matched his muddy boots perfectly.
“Erm, hello…” Davie tried again, the others now standing near.
Dark hooded eyes peered from under thick, wriggly brows, as the stranger barked, “Yes, damn it!”
“Er…you must be Chamber. Mister Brown from The Star Inn told us you’d be here.”
“And why would Samuel Brown talk about me, like?” grumbled the man, his loud voice booming, as he slid the book further onto the table away from him.
“So you are Chamber, Gatekeeper of Puzzle Woods?”
“Seems you know everything, like.”
“He said you’d be able to help us find some stuff,” chimed Billy, elbowing forward.
“Is that so, damn it?”
“Uh huh, so can you?”
Slamming the book closed, the figure rose before them but Billy didn’t flinch, only bent his neck to stare into the grubby face that, he saw, had a scrap of paper stuck to it amongst the stubble. “Maybe I can, like.”
“Oh, great!”
“Or maybe I won’t!”
“Oh!”
“I’ve had enough of trouble, and you smell like you were made for it!”
Billy swallowed; unable to keep his eyes from the paper quivering like a fledgling bird, as the thick, wide lips moved. “Blood and sand!”
“That’s as maybe, now get away, damn it!”
Watching him sit down again, Anne blustered forward. “But you must help!”
“Must I? And are you going to make me, like?”
“You bullies are all the same, you like to frighten others but I bet you’re a coward!” Anne retaliated, hands on hips, her face chinned in Chamber’s direction. “Listen, we know that you’re here because of what happened, but it’s not our fault. Are you going to help us or not?”
Billy gaped in admiration, a grin spreading across his face. Taking a step back, he folded his arms and waited; glad it was someone else’s turn for a change.
Both Davie and Ben now flanked Anne, ready to act, though were completely shaken when the stranger threw back his head and laughed.
The deep, rich sound echoed through the meadow until it reached the blackness of the trees in front of them, and then seemed to stop as if an unseen mouth had swallowed it.
“You’re brave, I’ll give you that, damn it. Nobody has spoken to me like that since…” He looked into the distance, a weird twist on his lips.
“Well, I’m sorry if I was rude, but…”
“Don’t expect much else from humans, damn it. Though I’ve been wrong on occasions, like. So, what did Samuel Brown have to say, then? Never did know when to keep his trap shut…forever telling all and sundry, like. It’s a wonder he doesn’t go Elsewhere himself and blast out all our secrets, damn it.”
“It wasn’t like that, we sort of, well it was Mister Grey really and…”
“That idiot…he’ll drown himself in rules one day, damn it! Still sits on that ridiculous chair, does he?”
Billy sniggered, choking it back when Chamber glared at him.
“Well, anyway,” continued Anne, “he told us…Mister Brown I mean, about um, Princess Rosanna, how she’d disappeared and that you were angry but…” her voiced tailed off into a whisper.
“None of your business…any of it, damn it!” growled the Gatekeeper, his hands gripping the sides of the giant book.
“But…”
“Maybe we can help each other?” Davie intervened.
The huge man merely glowered at him.
Davie stared back.
Tracing one fat finger over the face of the book, following its intricate pattern, Chamber snapped, “How, like?”
“Um, well, if you could help us find…”
*****
I thoroughly enjoyed writing the story, but found it so long that I had to split it into three: The Star Realm is #1 of the epic fantasy adventure.
And just to tempt you into reading it (if I haven't already), The Star Realm will be FREE 25-29 August on:
Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Star-Realm-Av...
Amazon USA
http://www.amazon.com/Star-Realm-Aval...
And even if you miss the 'sale', it's only £1.96.
FYI - If you would like to continue the story:
#2 Invasion
Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Invasion-Seco...
Amazon USA
http://www.amazon.com/Invasion-Second...
#3 Secrets Of The Ice
Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Secrets-The-A...
Amazon USA
http://www.amazon.com/Secrets-The-Ava...
All three books in the Avalon Trilogy are also available in print at http://www.lulu.com/julizpow
I hope I've whetted your appetite for a fantastical story, which both child and adult alike would enjoy (well that's what I think).
Thank you :)
But let me tell you more about it.
The world of Avalon came to me as I wrote Gone, developing enough so to answer the questions that had accumulated during the tough times of reality.
So how could I let it go to waste?
I knew that the wonderful world of Avalon would be the perfect setting for adventure - one more for children (about 12). Yet, I love stories that are meant for children, so what does that say about me? Let's say it's for 12ish /YA /young at heart.
I delight in fairy tales and the oh, so mysterious lands filled with enchantment and adventure, where anything can happen and rules can be broken (hmm, I have 'thing' about rules, but that's for another time).
Avalon is filled with mystery, magic, enchantment, danger, morals, questions and so much more.
Avalon is also the place where resides the Time Keeper, Ezrin, who is the one to call the five children. He leads them to the Glass Dome and after a ride in the Gyro-Monitor, they spy the Orb of Caprice - a giant orb which is made up of countless heptagonal pieces, each a different world - and so are allowed to visit the Star Realm.
Upon entering the Star Realm, Puzzle Woods is on the left of a huge meadow - a place of danger, mystery and the unexpected - and on the right is the Elysian Forest - where cascades the waterfall into the Rainbow Pool. Across from the Pool is another path which leads...
There is also a village, which houses the smithy, the bakery, the inn and the bookshop...and another place of secrets.
There are many characters within this world, ranging from goblins, fairies, talking flowers, a witch, an angel and...
One of my favourite characters, Chamber (the Gatekeeper to Puzzle Woods), waits patiently as folks cross the meadow and ask to enter the Woods (now why would they?) And within the Woods is...
So, Davie, Ben, Anne, Chrissie and Billy begin the quest...
*****
Here is their first encounter with Chamber:
The man appeared massive close up, even though he was sitting on a wooden chair that seemed to be slowly sinking into the soft earth. He had an abundance of dark, shaggy hair, which fell across his eyes as he concentrated on the book, while his tattered clothes strained to fit him, the collarless, grey shirt alone more frayed than Billy’s oldest jeans…and they’d been passed down from Jimmy. His trousers so dirty they matched his muddy boots perfectly.
“Erm, hello…” Davie tried again, the others now standing near.
Dark hooded eyes peered from under thick, wriggly brows, as the stranger barked, “Yes, damn it!”
“Er…you must be Chamber. Mister Brown from The Star Inn told us you’d be here.”
“And why would Samuel Brown talk about me, like?” grumbled the man, his loud voice booming, as he slid the book further onto the table away from him.
“So you are Chamber, Gatekeeper of Puzzle Woods?”
“Seems you know everything, like.”
“He said you’d be able to help us find some stuff,” chimed Billy, elbowing forward.
“Is that so, damn it?”
“Uh huh, so can you?”
Slamming the book closed, the figure rose before them but Billy didn’t flinch, only bent his neck to stare into the grubby face that, he saw, had a scrap of paper stuck to it amongst the stubble. “Maybe I can, like.”
“Oh, great!”
“Or maybe I won’t!”
“Oh!”
“I’ve had enough of trouble, and you smell like you were made for it!”
Billy swallowed; unable to keep his eyes from the paper quivering like a fledgling bird, as the thick, wide lips moved. “Blood and sand!”
“That’s as maybe, now get away, damn it!”
Watching him sit down again, Anne blustered forward. “But you must help!”
“Must I? And are you going to make me, like?”
“You bullies are all the same, you like to frighten others but I bet you’re a coward!” Anne retaliated, hands on hips, her face chinned in Chamber’s direction. “Listen, we know that you’re here because of what happened, but it’s not our fault. Are you going to help us or not?”
Billy gaped in admiration, a grin spreading across his face. Taking a step back, he folded his arms and waited; glad it was someone else’s turn for a change.
Both Davie and Ben now flanked Anne, ready to act, though were completely shaken when the stranger threw back his head and laughed.
The deep, rich sound echoed through the meadow until it reached the blackness of the trees in front of them, and then seemed to stop as if an unseen mouth had swallowed it.
“You’re brave, I’ll give you that, damn it. Nobody has spoken to me like that since…” He looked into the distance, a weird twist on his lips.
“Well, I’m sorry if I was rude, but…”
“Don’t expect much else from humans, damn it. Though I’ve been wrong on occasions, like. So, what did Samuel Brown have to say, then? Never did know when to keep his trap shut…forever telling all and sundry, like. It’s a wonder he doesn’t go Elsewhere himself and blast out all our secrets, damn it.”
“It wasn’t like that, we sort of, well it was Mister Grey really and…”
“That idiot…he’ll drown himself in rules one day, damn it! Still sits on that ridiculous chair, does he?”
Billy sniggered, choking it back when Chamber glared at him.
“Well, anyway,” continued Anne, “he told us…Mister Brown I mean, about um, Princess Rosanna, how she’d disappeared and that you were angry but…” her voiced tailed off into a whisper.
“None of your business…any of it, damn it!” growled the Gatekeeper, his hands gripping the sides of the giant book.
“But…”
“Maybe we can help each other?” Davie intervened.
The huge man merely glowered at him.
Davie stared back.
Tracing one fat finger over the face of the book, following its intricate pattern, Chamber snapped, “How, like?”
“Um, well, if you could help us find…”
*****
I thoroughly enjoyed writing the story, but found it so long that I had to split it into three: The Star Realm is #1 of the epic fantasy adventure.
And just to tempt you into reading it (if I haven't already), The Star Realm will be FREE 25-29 August on:
Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Star-Realm-Av...
Amazon USA
http://www.amazon.com/Star-Realm-Aval...
And even if you miss the 'sale', it's only £1.96.
FYI - If you would like to continue the story:
#2 Invasion
Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Invasion-Seco...
Amazon USA
http://www.amazon.com/Invasion-Second...
#3 Secrets Of The Ice
Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Secrets-The-A...
Amazon USA
http://www.amazon.com/Secrets-The-Ava...
All three books in the Avalon Trilogy are also available in print at http://www.lulu.com/julizpow
I hope I've whetted your appetite for a fantastical story, which both child and adult alike would enjoy (well that's what I think).
Thank you :)
TO DANCE AGAIN & ESMERALDA AND THE SECOND-HAND SUITOR by Hebby Roman
TO DANCE AGAIN
&
ESMERALDA AND THE SECOND-HAND SUITOR
by Hebby Roman
Genre: Contemporary Romance
They say a woman never forgets her first love, and Maricel Cardona hasn't forgotten Ramón Morales. She remembers dancing all night in Ramón's arms to the sensual beat of their homeland, Puerto Rico. When her family forced her to move to the States, she didn't know she was carrying Ramón's child.
A self-made multi-millionaire, Ramón hasn't forgotten Maricel and the passion he felt, dancing with her. Now, at the pinnacle of his success, he's withdrawn from the world to safeguard his own secret. A secret that, if revealed, would change his life forever.
Reunited after twenty-seven years, will the high school sweethearts get a second chance at love or will their secrets tear them apart?
A self-made multi-millionaire, Ramón hasn't forgotten Maricel and the passion he felt, dancing with her. Now, at the pinnacle of his success, he's withdrawn from the world to safeguard his own secret. A secret that, if revealed, would change his life forever.
Reunited after twenty-seven years, will the high school sweethearts get a second chance at love or will their secrets tear them apart?
Placing his glass on the coffee table, he half-turned toward her. “When did you realize you loved me? And what kind of love is it? Are you in love with me as a man or as a fond memory?”Her head pounded. Too much booze. Too many questions.
Why was he doing this—giving her the third degree? And who gave him the right, rubbing her nose in it? Fury flooded her but rather than stay and fight, she wanted to run away. She needed to get away from him, like when they’d been driving.
But she wouldn’t run. Not this time. Instead, she threw caution to the winds. “I’ve always loved you, Ramón, from the very beginning, since we were kids.”
He crossed his leg and ran his hand down the pleat of his pants, as if to smooth it. His action was so controlled, so cool and collected, she wanted to scream.
“You could have fooled me,” he said. “You went to the States with your parents and never looked back. I begged you to return and marry me. You kept putting me off.”
“You mean you couldn’t wait. Your impatience and pride got the better of you.” She took a deep breath. “You were supporting your mother, for heaven’s sake. We both needed degrees to survive.”
“Did we? We were young and in love; we would have gotten by.” The tone of his voice was uncommonly hard, unforgiving as stone.
So this was it. He wanted her to pay for an ancient wrong? But he'd been in the wrong, too; he hadn't known how much she'd needed him.
“What’s a forty-year-old virgin doing in a predicament like this? Looking for a husband but not because she wants one. Shy and inexperienced, Esmeralda Garcia is terrified to be dating and would rather stay at home with her three cats. But her late father’s will decrees she must marry or forfeit her orchard, her only means of support.
Hank McCall, as a romantic prospect, leaves a great deal to be desired. Twice divorced and older than Esmeralda, he wants to enjoy his semi-retirement and avoid being entangled in a long-term relationship again.
Scarred by their pasts and challenged by the gap in their ages, Esmeralda and Hank struggle with their mutual attraction and growing affection. When Hank is faced with losing Esmeralda or surrendering to her yearning to have a real family, their fates hang in the balance.”
Hank McCall, as a romantic prospect, leaves a great deal to be desired. Twice divorced and older than Esmeralda, he wants to enjoy his semi-retirement and avoid being entangled in a long-term relationship again.
Scarred by their pasts and challenged by the gap in their ages, Esmeralda and Hank struggle with their mutual attraction and growing affection. When Hank is faced with losing Esmeralda or surrendering to her yearning to have a real family, their fates hang in the balance.”
“Aren't you going to ask me inside?” Esme asked.
“No, I'm not,” Hank replied.
“Why not?” The stricken look on her face almost undid him.
“Because I got a contract job and need to make an early start tomorrow.”
“Oh, that's nice.” She smiled. “I'm happy for you. But I thought work was secondary and money was no object.” She trailed her fingertips along his jawline.
He kissed the palm of her hand. “It is, but I do have to live.” Then he grinned and admitted, “And it's for a friend and he's given me a rather aggressive deadline.”
“How aggressive?” She settled her hands on his shoulders and massaged them with her fingers.
He tilted his head to one side and said, “Mmmm, that feels good. Don't stop.”
“Can I come in and give you a more private massage?” Her dark brown eyes glittered in the half-light thrown from his porch lamp.
He grinned. “I wish. I've got a two-day deadline. I'll probably start tonight, not even wait until tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She stopped massaging his shoulders and let her hands stray down his chest. “I understand, especially if it's for a friend.”
“Good, but when it's done, I want to see you again.” And he did.
He hated being without her, hated missing her, trying to fill up his lonely days. Esme was a force of nature, a quiet and unassuming force of nature, but for him, she was special. After what Melanie had done to him; he hadn't known if he was capable of caring again. And two failed marriages to boot. You'd think he'd learn and give up.
But Esme was like no other woman, not even his first wife, who'd also been innocent and naïve when they'd started dating. He couldn't say what was so special about Esme, but he knew how he felt. As if he could see himself spending the rest of his days, making her happy.
Good Lord, was he falling in love with her?
“I want to see you again, too. When would be convenient?” she asked.
He frowned and tried to get his bearings. What had he said and what was she answering? Then he remembered. But the thought that he was falling in love with a woman he'd never been intimate with had blanked out his thoughts, stolen his reason.
“Uh, yeah, I think I need to work the weekend, but then I should be free. I'll give you a call.”
She grabbed the lapels of his shirt and stroked down, smoothing them. “Uh, Hank, I had an idea.” She smiled. “But I don't want you to think I'm being pushy or trying to get you to work more. I, uh, after today, I—”
“Spit it out.” He grinned back at her. “I'll take what you say with a grain of salt.”
She shook her head and her pink tongue snaked out between her teeth. Seeing it, he almost groaned. He leaned closer, wanting to kiss her again.
“My father used to say that but in Spanish.”
He pulled back. “I'm not certain I want to remind you of your father. I know I told you how old I am today, but still…”
“No, I'm not,” Hank replied.
“Why not?” The stricken look on her face almost undid him.
“Because I got a contract job and need to make an early start tomorrow.”
“Oh, that's nice.” She smiled. “I'm happy for you. But I thought work was secondary and money was no object.” She trailed her fingertips along his jawline.
He kissed the palm of her hand. “It is, but I do have to live.” Then he grinned and admitted, “And it's for a friend and he's given me a rather aggressive deadline.”
“How aggressive?” She settled her hands on his shoulders and massaged them with her fingers.
He tilted his head to one side and said, “Mmmm, that feels good. Don't stop.”
“Can I come in and give you a more private massage?” Her dark brown eyes glittered in the half-light thrown from his porch lamp.
He grinned. “I wish. I've got a two-day deadline. I'll probably start tonight, not even wait until tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She stopped massaging his shoulders and let her hands stray down his chest. “I understand, especially if it's for a friend.”
“Good, but when it's done, I want to see you again.” And he did.
He hated being without her, hated missing her, trying to fill up his lonely days. Esme was a force of nature, a quiet and unassuming force of nature, but for him, she was special. After what Melanie had done to him; he hadn't known if he was capable of caring again. And two failed marriages to boot. You'd think he'd learn and give up.
But Esme was like no other woman, not even his first wife, who'd also been innocent and naïve when they'd started dating. He couldn't say what was so special about Esme, but he knew how he felt. As if he could see himself spending the rest of his days, making her happy.
Good Lord, was he falling in love with her?
“I want to see you again, too. When would be convenient?” she asked.
He frowned and tried to get his bearings. What had he said and what was she answering? Then he remembered. But the thought that he was falling in love with a woman he'd never been intimate with had blanked out his thoughts, stolen his reason.
“Uh, yeah, I think I need to work the weekend, but then I should be free. I'll give you a call.”
She grabbed the lapels of his shirt and stroked down, smoothing them. “Uh, Hank, I had an idea.” She smiled. “But I don't want you to think I'm being pushy or trying to get you to work more. I, uh, after today, I—”
“Spit it out.” He grinned back at her. “I'll take what you say with a grain of salt.”
She shook her head and her pink tongue snaked out between her teeth. Seeing it, he almost groaned. He leaned closer, wanting to kiss her again.
“My father used to say that but in Spanish.”
He pulled back. “I'm not certain I want to remind you of your father. I know I told you how old I am today, but still…”
Hebby Roman is the multi-published, Amazon best-selling author of both historical and contemporary romances. Her first contemporary romance, SUMMER DREAMS, was the launch title for Encanto, a print line featuring Latino romances. And her re-published e-book, SUMMER DREAMS, was #1 in Amazon fiction and romance. Her medieval historical romance, THE PRINCESS AND THE TEMPLAR, was selected for the Amazon Encore program and was #1 in medieval fiction. She was selected for the Romantic Times "Texas Author" award, and she won a national Harlequin contest. Her book, BORDER HEAT, was a Los Angeles Times Book Festival selection. Her contemporary romance, TO DANCE AGAIN is a 2016 RONE Finalist.
Family Illusions by Bess George
FAMILY ILLUSIONS
by Bess George
Her life was a lie.
Charlie Gomez always fantasized about a better life or at least a job that didn’t involve scrubbing other people’s toilets. The death of her mother reveals a past that’s based on lies and an unexpected inheritance gives her the opportunity to become a private investigator—the perfect chance to learn a skill for the future while she figures out the past. There’s only one negative in this new gig and that’s her antagonistic sexy new boss.
He has nothing left but a company on the brink of bankruptcy.
Jaxon Roberts was a street orphan who survived and thrived thanks to the kindness of a generous benefactor. But when his adopted father passes away, he’s left with the daunting task of saving McKenzie Investigations and a major surprise: his father left a biological heir, and she’s the key to his company’s survival.
As tension and rivalry give way to love, dark shadows of the past put their future—and their lives—in grave danger. When Charlie disappears, Jaxon is faced with a choice…walk away and preserve the world he knows, or fight for a future with the one woman who can truly teach him what family is all about.
Charlie Gomez always fantasized about a better life or at least a job that didn’t involve scrubbing other people’s toilets. The death of her mother reveals a past that’s based on lies and an unexpected inheritance gives her the opportunity to become a private investigator—the perfect chance to learn a skill for the future while she figures out the past. There’s only one negative in this new gig and that’s her antagonistic sexy new boss.
He has nothing left but a company on the brink of bankruptcy.
Jaxon Roberts was a street orphan who survived and thrived thanks to the kindness of a generous benefactor. But when his adopted father passes away, he’s left with the daunting task of saving McKenzie Investigations and a major surprise: his father left a biological heir, and she’s the key to his company’s survival.
As tension and rivalry give way to love, dark shadows of the past put their future—and their lives—in grave danger. When Charlie disappears, Jaxon is faced with a choice…walk away and preserve the world he knows, or fight for a future with the one woman who can truly teach him what family is all about.
A woman’s voice sounded to the left of her hidden nook. “What do you mean you’re running late? I need to get this stuff out of here now while there’s no one here. Okay, it’ll be in the usual spot.”
Intrigued by the conversation, Charlie remained motionless as the sound of shoes clicked away toward a back door that led to an alley. The door closed with a bang and she crept forward. The Sahara Desert held more moisture than her mouth at the moment. Where the heck was Tony? If she took the time to go find him, she might lose the chance to see if this was the thieving employee.
One foot eased forward and then Charlie rocked back on her heels in doubt. This is your job. Do it. She scurried over to ease the back door open a crack. There was no sign of anyone so she slipped through the opening. A movement to the right caused her to pull back into the recessed door frame. From where she hid, all she saw was a white trash bag as it sailed into the dumpster. Heart pounding, she ducked inside and busied herself at the dishwasher in case the woman returned the same way.
The kitchen door slammed back against the wall when someone entered. Footsteps came closer and then stopped directly behind where she worked to empty a rack full of clean glasses. After a moment, the woman continued on into the dining area.
Charlie hurried back outside and over to the trash dumpster. Even with her height, she couldn’t see into the dark depths. Looking around, she spotted an old plastic crate on the ground. She pulled it over and gingerly stepped up. The stench of rotting meat and soured cheeses made her eyes water and with one hand holding her nose, she leaned in as far as possible.
A lone pale lump glowed brightly in the left back corner among the other dark green mounds. She stretched one arm out as far as it would go. Almost. She stood on her tiptoes to gain another few inches. Her thrust forward caused the crate to slip from under her feet. A precarious balance on the metal rim of the dumpster, she struggled to keep from sliding down into the disgusting mess.
More in than out, gravity worked against her, and she landed face first in the soft piles. Disoriented, her surprise turned to horror as the more she moved, the more she sank. Had something alive brushed her leg?
Charlie was still shrieking when Tony’s surprised face appeared over the side. Between his laughter and her flopping about, it took them several attempts to get her out of the large container. While Tony retrieved the bag, she stared down at her clothes and sighed. She needed to go back and reread the chapter on dumpster diving. The book made it sound so easy.
Intrigued by the conversation, Charlie remained motionless as the sound of shoes clicked away toward a back door that led to an alley. The door closed with a bang and she crept forward. The Sahara Desert held more moisture than her mouth at the moment. Where the heck was Tony? If she took the time to go find him, she might lose the chance to see if this was the thieving employee.
One foot eased forward and then Charlie rocked back on her heels in doubt. This is your job. Do it. She scurried over to ease the back door open a crack. There was no sign of anyone so she slipped through the opening. A movement to the right caused her to pull back into the recessed door frame. From where she hid, all she saw was a white trash bag as it sailed into the dumpster. Heart pounding, she ducked inside and busied herself at the dishwasher in case the woman returned the same way.
The kitchen door slammed back against the wall when someone entered. Footsteps came closer and then stopped directly behind where she worked to empty a rack full of clean glasses. After a moment, the woman continued on into the dining area.
Charlie hurried back outside and over to the trash dumpster. Even with her height, she couldn’t see into the dark depths. Looking around, she spotted an old plastic crate on the ground. She pulled it over and gingerly stepped up. The stench of rotting meat and soured cheeses made her eyes water and with one hand holding her nose, she leaned in as far as possible.
A lone pale lump glowed brightly in the left back corner among the other dark green mounds. She stretched one arm out as far as it would go. Almost. She stood on her tiptoes to gain another few inches. Her thrust forward caused the crate to slip from under her feet. A precarious balance on the metal rim of the dumpster, she struggled to keep from sliding down into the disgusting mess.
More in than out, gravity worked against her, and she landed face first in the soft piles. Disoriented, her surprise turned to horror as the more she moved, the more she sank. Had something alive brushed her leg?
Charlie was still shrieking when Tony’s surprised face appeared over the side. Between his laughter and her flopping about, it took them several attempts to get her out of the large container. While Tony retrieved the bag, she stared down at her clothes and sighed. She needed to go back and reread the chapter on dumpster diving. The book made it sound so easy.
Bess George lives in Texas with her hubby and kids. Even though Bess crunches numbers for a living, she’s managed to work in some unusual places over the years. The oil business, a gun range, and a golf course are a few jobs where she met all types of characters. She loves to hear stories about people finding the unexpected hero inside each of us.
