Mollie Mathews's Blog, page 4
March 5, 2025
Allow Art to Take You Places You’ve Never Been
“Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” – Thomas Merton
Have you ever read a book so immersive it felt like stepping through a portal into another life? Or stood in front of a painting and felt the world shift beneath your feet? Art has this magical ability to transport us—to places we’ve never been, to emotions we’ve never fully understood, to dreams we didn’t know we had.
Art isn’t just about what we see or read; it’s about what we feel. It’s the sensation of standing before Van Gogh’s Starry Night and feeling the swirl of the cosmos pulling at your soul. It’s getting lost in the vibrant pages of The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, where magic and imagination blur the boundaries of reality. It’s stepping into Frida Kahlo’s The Two Fridas and sensing the duality of heartache and strength in one striking image.
Art reminds us that we are never truly stuck. It opens doors to new worlds, even when we feel confined by circumstance. As Georgia O’Keeffe said, “I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way—things I had no words for.”
True Love 2-Book-Bundle Box Set (Love in Greece and Love in Santorini).
There’s a reason why certain paintings, stories, and songs leave an indelible mark on us. They reflect pieces of our souls, waiting to be seen. They whisper, Come closer. There’s more to discover.
Claude Monet’s Water Lilies invites us into a world of endless peace and reflection, where light dances on water, and the rush of life slows to a meditative stillness. Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic reminds us that creativity isn’t something reserved for the chosen few—it’s an energy available to all of us, waiting to be embraced. The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho teaches us that life is a journey, and the pursuit of our dreams is a map leading us home to ourselves.
Wherever we are, whatever we’re facing, art offers a way through. It reminds us that there’s more beyond the horizon, more color in the sky, more stories waiting to be told.
Forgotten By The Sheikh (Asim and Yasmin)
Next time you pick up a book, listen to music, or lose yourself in a painting, let it take you somewhere new. Let it show you what’s possible. Let it remind you that the world is vast, beautiful, and full of stories waiting to be discovered.
Because as Vincent van Gogh once said, “What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?”
So go. Dream. Wander through art. Let it take you to places you’ve never been—inside and out.
What works of art, a book or a painting, have transported you somewhere magical? 
Let’s share and celebrate them together.
A Crazy Little Thing Called Love—sold from my studio in the Bay of Islands, New Zealand and traveling somewhere it has never been—California, USA!
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The post Allow Art to Take You Places You’ve Never Been appeared first on Mollie Mathews.
March 2, 2025
Make peace, not war
Dear reader,
Recently, in the wake of the war-drums beating, I saw a reel by Yoko Ono where she contrasted the war machine with the peace machine. It struck a chord and together with recent events, inspired a new sheikh story.
Here’s a transcript from Yoko’s reel:
I think that every artistic effort, music or art or films or any of, well, even a florist, anybody who is participating in the peace industry is making the world better“I think that every artistic effort, music or art or films or any of, well, even a florist, anybody who is participating in the peace industry is making the world better. Anybody who is participating in the war industry is making the world worse. And so we just have to not be too critical about each other in the peace industry and just get together, be gentle to each other, be gentle and loving to each other and try to create a big peace industry and make it bigger than the war industry.
Could you explain this idea of the war industry? Does it just include weaponry?
“Weaponry and people who use the weaponry, and people who make money on the weaponry, and people who want to intimidate other countries and maybe conquer them or maybe use the other countries to make profit and power. And to create power.
Now, the peace industry, you say that includes art, music, floristry. Not just art, music, films. Not just those creative, so-called creative work. Everybody who is doing something that is peaceful, that’s what I’m saying. A person who is a dress designer, a florist, a mother, a child who is cleaning up his room or whatever, they’re all equal. They’re all participating in the peace industry.
And so I would say that they are the silent majority. But the silent majority is the power of this world. There’s an opinion that a lot of art created today, it’s become appropriated by the world of commerce and that it’s sort of used to sort of decorate the homes of these people in the war industry, for example. Now, do you think that’s true, do you think?
Every art, every creative work has the opportunity. Every creative work has the opportunity of becoming commercial. And, you know, if you want to make it commercial, that’s fine. If you don’t want to make it commercial, that’s fine, too. I think the only thing that you should be concerned is not to change the spirit of your work just to make it commercial. But if your work is, the spirit of the work is not changed at all, but it happens to sell, there’s nothing wrong with it. Because I think. I think that the peace industry has to become just as viable, or if anything, more viable than the war industry, if we want it to have a true, peaceful world.
Now the idea of world peace and how desperate the people want world peace is getting bigger.”
Deceived By The Sheikh is currently with my BETA readers and will be released later this month.
Here’s the blurb (read to the end for an excerpt of the prologue):
She sought the truth. He held the power. Neither expected love to be the most dangerous deception of all.A fearless journalist. A powerful sheikh. A love forged in deception, tested by fire.
Investigative journalist Lina Darzi has spent her career exposing corruption, but her latest assignment is the most dangerous yet—Prince Rafiq Al-Hadid, a ruthless billionaire ruler accused of eliminating a political dissident.
Determined to uncover the truth, Lina follows a lead to Istanbul. But before she can publish her exposé, she’s abducted—and wakes up aboard Rafiq’s private jet.
He doesn’t just want to silence her. He wants her to listen.
Rafiq is no stranger to betrayal. The evidence against him is fabricated, and Lina has been played by powerful forces seeking to destroy him. He gives her a choice: stay, learn the truth, and decide for herself—or leave, but never know what really happened.
But as she delves deeper into his world, passion ignites between them, and Lina realizes the most dangerous thing isn’t Rafiq. It’s the way he makes her feel.
When war threatens his throne, Rafiq must choose between his kingdom and the woman who changed his world.
And Lina must decide—does she fight for love, or walk away from the most dangerous man she’s ever loved?
Perfect for fans of enemies-to-lovers, forbidden love, and sizzling royal romances, Untamed by the Sheikh delivers passion, intrigue, and a love story as untamed as the desert itself.
DECEIVED BY THE SHEIKH is part of Mollie Mathews’ THE SHEIKHS UNTAMED BRIDES series starring Maverick Sheikh Billionaires. While it can easily be read as a standalone story, you’ll likely enjoy reading the other books, too.
THE SHEIKHS UNTAMED BRIDES
Claimed by the Sheikh (Tariq and Melanie)
Stolen By The Sheikh (Anwar and Lucy)
Bought By The Sheikh (Fazza and Grace)
Forgotten By The Sheikh (Asim and Yasmin)
Untamed By The Sheikh (Khalid and Amara)
Unveiled By The Sheikh ( Haleem and Laila)
Deceived By The Sheikh (Rafiq and Lina)
Coming soon.
Tamed By The Sheikh (Hamad and Nicky)
Freed by the Sheikh (Rashad and Haya)
Destined For The Sheikh (Omar and Danielle)
EXCERPT: PROLOGUELina Darzi’s fingers tightened around the brush as she scrolled through the news feed, her eyes flicking from headline to headline, each one a fresh reminder of the world’s madness. The threat of impending war loomed like a shadow over the day, but the real battle—the one she cared about most—was the war for truth.
Stay in your heart, the astrologers she followed uncouraged. A hollow platitude, a meaningless whisper in the face of tyranny.
Love—what would love do?
She glanced at her half-finished painting, thick strokes of ketamine yellow illuminating the three sunflowers she had been working on for hours. They represented loss. Resistance. Hope. They represented Yulia Navalny, a woman who had lost her husband to Putin’s regime. A man, part Ukrainian, part Russian. A man who stood for democracy. A loving husband and father, not a philandering dictator. ‘The evil will fall, and the beautiful future will come,’ she had said, taking up her husband’s fight after his death.
Love left behind legacies. That was what Lina wanted to do—leave a legacy of love, of truth. It seemed impossible. No more possible than David defeating Goliath. But one could not give up. One could not allow tyrants to get away with murder.
Her weapon of choice? Not the billions in exports the English Prime Minister had recently announced, manufacturing arms and bombs to protect Ukraine against Putin. No.
Her war was fought with a brush and a pen, sending love letters to the world, sending truth bombs into the chaos.
You have to stand up to dictators.
She dipped her brush into the paint, sweeping more yellow onto the petals. Sunflowers—the flower of resistance, the flower of the truth-seekers.
Her mind drifted to her own country, to the man at its helm. She had once thought businessmen made good leaders. Pragmatic. Efficient. But take her nation’s president—bankrupt more times than she had fingers to count, a man who walked away from his debts, leaving a trail of people in financial ruin. And now, his nepotistic children were cozying up to an Arab dictator—a man charged with butchering a journalist.
A journalist like her.
Lina exhaled sharply, setting her brush down. She shouldn’t be thinking about these things. Hadn’t she left that world behind?
She was an artist now. That was the plan. Focus on the inner world. Stay in your heart.
But that was just it. She had a heart.
She couldn’t pretend not to care. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t see, didn’t hear, didn’t know.
She was an artist, yes. But she was also a journalist. A writer. A thinker. A questioner. And, as some had come to call her—
A dangerous woman.
The phone buzzed beside her.
She almost didn’t look, but habit died hard.
An anonymous message flashed across her screen.
STOP DIGGING. BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE.
A chill ran through her.
She had seen these kinds of threats before. But something about this one felt different.
Something told her she was about to walk into something far more dangerous than she had ever imagined.
And she had no idea that in just a few hours, she would be stepping onto a plane she would never have boarded willingly—face to face with the one man she had sworn to expose.
Prince Rafiq Al-Hadid.
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The post Make peace, not war appeared first on Mollie Mathews.
February 14, 2025
Anti-Valentine Love Stories
Hi my loves, the seeds of a new love story sprouted on Valentine’s Day. You may be surprised to learn of the unlikely source of inspiration—the trending hashtag on #antivalentinesday.
I wondered, as authors do, why would anyone be anti the day of love? But then I remembered this day can be so full of heartbreak and broken dreams for so many. I remember many Valentine’s Days on my own. I didn’t meet my partner until I was 44—I’d almost given up on love after so much heartbreak and disappointment.
So my story prompt began there, ‘where the heroine reveals all the heartbreak she has felt on Valentine’s Day.’
I hope you enjoy this excerpt, and I hope wherever you are, whoever you are with, love is in your heart. (READ TO THE END FOR THE 2-BOOK BUNDLE!)
Amazon; Kobo; iBooks; Barnes and Noble
Chapter 1: The Ghosts of Valentine’s PastThe restaurant was dimly lit, the scent of roses thick in the air, as if love itself had seeped into the walls. Couples leaned in, whispering sweet nothings over candlelight, their faces illuminated by the golden glow of romance. But for Sophia Hartwell, Valentine’s Day had never been anything but a cruel joke wrapped in red ribbons and false promises.
She sat alone at the corner table, nursing a glass of deep red merlot, watching the parade of lovers, feeling like a ghost haunting the holiday that had never once been kind to her.
“How many times have I been here before?” she murmured under her breath, tapping a manicured nail against the stem of her glass. “How many versions of heartbreak have I lived through on this wretched day?”
Sophia had loved. Oh, she had loved deeply, foolishly, with the kind of reckless hope that made a person believe in things like fate and forever. But Valentine’s Day had always been the day that shattered those illusions.
She thought of Ryan, her first love. Senior year. The boy with the crooked smile and a promise he’d never keep. They’d planned the perfect Valentine’s date—chocolate-covered strawberries, a lakeside picnic under the stars. But instead, he’d taken another girl. She remembered the way her heart had cracked, the humiliation burning through her cheeks as she watched them together, blissfully unaware of the devastation they’d left in their wake.
Then there was Daniel, the man she’d thought she would marry. They had spent two years wrapped in what she believed was an unshakable love. On Valentine’s Day, he’d given her a small, velvet box, and for one foolish second, she had believed it held an engagement ring. Instead, it had contained a pair of diamond earrings—his way of cushioning the blow when he told her he wasn’t ready for a lifetime together.
And James… James had been the worst of them all. A love that burned too brightly, consuming everything in its path. He had made her believe in magic, in soulmates. And then, on Valentine’s Day, he’d left. No explanation. No goodbye. Just a note on the kitchen counter that read: I can’t do this anymore.
Now, here she was, years later, a woman who had given love every chance, only to have it ripped away each time. Valentine’s Day wasn’t a celebration—it was an anniversary of loss.
A low chuckle pulled her out of her reverie. “Drowning your sorrows, Sophia?”
She turned, her gaze settling on Adrian Blackwood, the one man who had never given her a reason to hope or a reason to cry. He was handsome in that effortless way—charcoal-gray suit, dark hair just unruly enough to hint at the rebellion underneath. He slid into the seat across from her without invitation, his sharp blue eyes full of something between amusement and understanding.
“You look like a woman with a vendetta against Cupid,” he said, signaling the waiter for another glass.
She lifted a brow. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
He studied her, his gaze lingering on the way her fingers curled protectively around her glass. “Tell me,” he murmured, leaning in slightly, “why do you hate this day so much?”
Something about his tone—gentle but unrelenting—made her exhale a shaky breath. She didn’t know why she answered, why she let herself unravel in front of him, but maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the exhaustion of pretending she wasn’t wounded.
“Because Valentine’s Day has always been the day I lose,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “The day I realize love isn’t what I thought it was. It’s not grand gestures or whispered words or rings in velvet boxes. It’s disappointment wrapped in pink ribbons. It’s love letters that turn into goodbye notes.”
A shadow passed over Adrian’s face, and for the first time, she wondered what his ghosts looked like.
“You ever think,” he said slowly, “that maybe it’s not the day that’s cursed? Maybe you’ve just given your heart to the wrong people.”
Sophia let out a dry laugh. “Well, if that’s the case, my track record is abysmal.”
Adrian didn’t laugh. Instead, he reached for her hand, the unexpected warmth of his touch making her pulse stutter.
“Maybe,” he said softly, “you’ve been looking for love in the wrong places.”
She wanted to scoff, to pull away, to remind him that she was not some starry-eyed fool waiting for a love story. But something in his expression—steady, unflinching—held her still.
And for the first time in years, on a night she had always dreaded, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t lost the war on love just yet.
Chapter 2: The Man Who Never Believed in LoveAdrian Blackwood had never been a man for grand gestures. He didn’t believe in sweeping declarations or hearts carved into tree trunks. Love, to him, had always been something transactional—a currency exchanged between two people who needed something from each other.
He had watched too many relationships crumble under the weight of their own illusions. His parents, once the embodiment of devotion, had shattered their marriage like fine glass, leaving behind nothing but splinters of resentment. He had learned early that love was a dangerous bet, one that left you empty-handed in the end.
And yet, sitting across from Sophia Hartwell, watching the way her shoulders curled inward as if she could protect herself from memories that still cut deep, he felt something tighten in his chest.
He had known her for years—seen her through heartbreaks, through failed love affairs, through the quiet resilience she carried like armor. But tonight, she wasn’t just the woman who had survived Valentine’s Day after Valentine’s Day of betrayal. She was the woman who had never been given the kind of love she deserved.
And for the first time in his life, he wanted to be the man who gave it to her.
Adrian leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, letting the silence stretch between them. She wasn’t looking at him—her gaze was fixed somewhere past him, past the crowded restaurant, past the years of disappointment she had relived in a single breath.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his voice low, measured. “When was the last time you believed in it?”
Sophia blinked, turning her gaze back to him. “Believed in what?”
“In love.”
She let out a breathy laugh, the kind that wasn’t really laughter at all. “I don’t think I ever did. Not really.” She paused, then admitted, “But I wanted to.”
Adrian felt that confession settle in his bones. He knew that feeling well—the desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, love wasn’t the illusion he had always believed it to be.
“I used to think,” she continued, tracing the rim of her wine glass with a delicate finger, “that if I just gave enough, if I just loved hard enough, it would be enough to make someone stay.”
He didn’t miss the tremor in her voice. He wanted to tell her she had never been the problem. That she had never needed to prove her worth to men too blind to see it. But words had never been his weapon of choice.
Instead, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing over hers. She flinched—just barely—but she didn’t pull away.
“Maybe love isn’t about making someone stay,” he said, watching her carefully. “Maybe it’s about finding someone who doesn’t need convincing.”
Her breath hitched. And for a fleeting moment, Adrian wondered if he had said too much. If he had let too much slip.
Because this wasn’t just about Sophia’s heartbreak.
It was about his own.
About the nights he had spent convincing himself he was better off alone. About the moments he had watched her from the sidelines, never daring to step forward. About the years he had told himself he didn’t feel anything when, in reality, he had been feeling everything.
He had never wanted to be the man who caught feelings. Never wanted to be the one who saw someone else’s pain and ached to take it away.
But sitting across from Sophia, he realized that maybe love wasn’t the lie he had always believed it to be.
Maybe, just maybe, it had been waiting for him all along.
Chapter 3: The Risk of FallingThe warmth of Adrian’s fingers lingered long after he pulled away. A simple touch, nothing more. And yet, it unraveled something inside her—something she wasn’t ready to name.
Sophia had spent years building walls so high even she sometimes forgot what lay behind them. She had learned to smile through disappointment, to laugh at the absurdity of her own failed love stories, to wear her heartbreak like an elegant coat that no one could see through.
But Adrian had always seen.
It unnerved her, the way he looked at her now. Like he wasn’t just listening to her words but hearing the ones she hadn’t spoken. Like he knew how much she wanted to believe in love again but was terrified of what it might cost her.
Because that was the truth, wasn’t it?
Love had never just been a feeling for her. It had been a risk. A gamble. A slow-building hope that had shattered every time she placed her heart in someone else’s hands.
And Adrian Blackwood was a man who had never gambled with emotions.
“I don’t think I know how to trust it anymore,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Love, I mean.”
His gaze never wavered. “Maybe that’s because you’ve never been given a reason to.”
She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It is.”
Sophia arched a brow, studying him. “You say that like you’ve figured it out.”
“I haven’t,” Adrian admitted. “But I know that love isn’t supposed to feel like something you have to earn.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
Because that was exactly what she had been doing—her whole life.
Trying to be enough. Trying to fit into someone else’s idea of who she should be. Trying to shape herself into the kind of woman a man might choose to stay for.
She had spent years contorting herself into someone more lovable, more desirable, more worthy. And still, they had all left.
Her first love, who chose another girl.
The man who dangled a velvet box in front of her, only to fill it with jewelry instead of promises.
The one who walked away without a goodbye, as if her love had meant nothing.
And now Adrian sat across from her, saying words that were unraveling every lie she had ever told herself.
Maybe you’ve just given your heart to the wrong people.
Maybe you’ve been looking for love in the wrong places.
Maybe love isn’t supposed to feel like something you have to earn.
She wanted to believe him.
God, she wanted to believe him.
But she was afraid.
Afraid that if she let herself believe—if she let herself hope—she would only end up proving herself right. That love was nothing more than a beautifully wrapped illusion, waiting to break her all over again.
“You think I’ve been looking in the wrong places,” she murmured, her fingers toying with the stem of her glass. “Tell me, Adrian… where should I have been looking?”
She didn’t know why she asked. Maybe she wanted to hear him say it. Maybe she wanted him to finally put words to what had been lingering between them for years.
For a long moment, he was silent.
Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he reached for her hand again—this time, threading his fingers through hers.
“Here,” he said softly. “Maybe you should have been looking here.”
The world stilled.
Sophia felt her heart slam against her ribs, her breath catching in her throat.
Because there it was—the risk.
Right in front of her.
And for the first time in a long, long time, she wondered if maybe… just maybe… it was one worth taking.
I hope you enjoyed this excerpt. The full-length story, The Valentine Gamble: A runaway bride, friends-to-lovers-romance is out now!
AMAZON:
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DX9SCVJT
CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0DX9SCVJT
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DX9SCVJT
AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0DX9SCVJT
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p.s. you may also enjoy
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AMAZON:
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DXDLTHW3
CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0DXDLTHW3
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DXDLTHW3
AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0DXDLTHW3
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https://books2read.com/u/3806ZL
free chapters: Lucky: The Sheikh’s Forbidden LovePrologue: The Day Everything ChangedThe sun hung high in the sky, fierce and relentless, baking the marble courtyard beneath Haya’s bare feet. She barely noticed. She only had eyes for her daughters—her whole world wrapped in the giggles and tiny hands of three little girls.
Nine-year-old Amira, bold and fearless, twirled like a desert dancer, her dark curls catching the light. Six-year-old Laila sat cross-legged beside her, carefully painting a picture with the watercolors Haya had given her that morning. And three-year-old Noor, her baby, clutched her mother’s dress, humming softly as she traced patterns in the dust with her little fingers.
Haya closed her eyes and breathed them in, their laughter, their innocence, their scent of jasmine oil and fresh air. A moment so perfect it almost hurt.
Then she heard the gate creak open.
Kareem.
Her estranged husband’s presence always sent a chill through her, despite the blistering heat. Tall, impeccably dressed, with the kind of wealth that could buy silence, he moved with the quiet arrogance of a man who had always controlled everything—except her love.
The post Anti-Valentine Love Stories appeared first on Mollie Mathews.
A Love Story
Hi my loves, the seeds of a new love story sprouted on Valentine’s Day. You may be surprised to learn of the unlikely source of inspiration—the trending hashtag on #antivalentinesday.
I wondered, as authors do, why would anyone be anti the day of love? But then I remembered this day can be so full of heartbreak and broken dreams for so many. I remember many Valentine’s Days on my own. I didn’t meet my partner until I was 44—I’d almost given up on love after so much heartbreak and disappointment.
So my story prompt began there, ‘where the heroine reveals all the heartbreak she has felt on Valentine’s Day.’
I hope you enjoy this excerpt, and I hope wherever you are, whoever you are with, love is in your heart.
Amazon; Kobo; iBooks; Barnes and Noble
Chapter 1: The Ghosts of Valentine’s PastThe restaurant was dimly lit, the scent of roses thick in the air, as if love itself had seeped into the walls. Couples leaned in, whispering sweet nothings over candlelight, their faces illuminated by the golden glow of romance. But for Sophia Hartwell, Valentine’s Day had never been anything but a cruel joke wrapped in red ribbons and false promises.
She sat alone at the corner table, nursing a glass of deep red merlot, watching the parade of lovers, feeling like a ghost haunting the holiday that had never once been kind to her.
“How many times have I been here before?” she murmured under her breath, tapping a manicured nail against the stem of her glass. “How many versions of heartbreak have I lived through on this wretched day?”
Sophia had loved. Oh, she had loved deeply, foolishly, with the kind of reckless hope that made a person believe in things like fate and forever. But Valentine’s Day had always been the day that shattered those illusions.
She thought of Ryan, her first love. Senior year. The boy with the crooked smile and a promise he’d never keep. They’d planned the perfect Valentine’s date—chocolate-covered strawberries, a lakeside picnic under the stars. But instead, he’d taken another girl. She remembered the way her heart had cracked, the humiliation burning through her cheeks as she watched them together, blissfully unaware of the devastation they’d left in their wake.
Then there was Daniel, the man she’d thought she would marry. They had spent two years wrapped in what she believed was an unshakable love. On Valentine’s Day, he’d given her a small, velvet box, and for one foolish second, she had believed it held an engagement ring. Instead, it had contained a pair of diamond earrings—his way of cushioning the blow when he told her he wasn’t ready for a lifetime together.
And James… James had been the worst of them all. A love that burned too brightly, consuming everything in its path. He had made her believe in magic, in soulmates. And then, on Valentine’s Day, he’d left. No explanation. No goodbye. Just a note on the kitchen counter that read: I can’t do this anymore.
Now, here she was, years later, a woman who had given love every chance, only to have it ripped away each time. Valentine’s Day wasn’t a celebration—it was an anniversary of loss.
A low chuckle pulled her out of her reverie. “Drowning your sorrows, Sophia?”
She turned, her gaze settling on Adrian Blackwood, the one man who had never given her a reason to hope or a reason to cry. He was handsome in that effortless way—charcoal-gray suit, dark hair just unruly enough to hint at the rebellion underneath. He slid into the seat across from her without invitation, his sharp blue eyes full of something between amusement and understanding.
“You look like a woman with a vendetta against Cupid,” he said, signaling the waiter for another glass.
She lifted a brow. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
He studied her, his gaze lingering on the way her fingers curled protectively around her glass. “Tell me,” he murmured, leaning in slightly, “why do you hate this day so much?”
Something about his tone—gentle but unrelenting—made her exhale a shaky breath. She didn’t know why she answered, why she let herself unravel in front of him, but maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the exhaustion of pretending she wasn’t wounded.
“Because Valentine’s Day has always been the day I lose,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “The day I realize love isn’t what I thought it was. It’s not grand gestures or whispered words or rings in velvet boxes. It’s disappointment wrapped in pink ribbons. It’s love letters that turn into goodbye notes.”
A shadow passed over Adrian’s face, and for the first time, she wondered what his ghosts looked like.
“You ever think,” he said slowly, “that maybe it’s not the day that’s cursed? Maybe you’ve just given your heart to the wrong people.”
Sophia let out a dry laugh. “Well, if that’s the case, my track record is abysmal.”
Adrian didn’t laugh. Instead, he reached for her hand, the unexpected warmth of his touch making her pulse stutter.
“Maybe,” he said softly, “you’ve been looking for love in the wrong places.”
She wanted to scoff, to pull away, to remind him that she was not some starry-eyed fool waiting for a love story. But something in his expression—steady, unflinching—held her still.
And for the first time in years, on a night she had always dreaded, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t lost the war on love just yet.
Chapter 2: The Man Who Never Believed in LoveAdrian Blackwood had never been a man for grand gestures. He didn’t believe in sweeping declarations or hearts carved into tree trunks. Love, to him, had always been something transactional—a currency exchanged between two people who needed something from each other.
He had watched too many relationships crumble under the weight of their own illusions. His parents, once the embodiment of devotion, had shattered their marriage like fine glass, leaving behind nothing but splinters of resentment. He had learned early that love was a dangerous bet, one that left you empty-handed in the end.
And yet, sitting across from Sophia Hartwell, watching the way her shoulders curled inward as if she could protect herself from memories that still cut deep, he felt something tighten in his chest.
He had known her for years—seen her through heartbreaks, through failed love affairs, through the quiet resilience she carried like armor. But tonight, she wasn’t just the woman who had survived Valentine’s Day after Valentine’s Day of betrayal. She was the woman who had never been given the kind of love she deserved.
And for the first time in his life, he wanted to be the man who gave it to her.
Adrian leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, letting the silence stretch between them. She wasn’t looking at him—her gaze was fixed somewhere past him, past the crowded restaurant, past the years of disappointment she had relived in a single breath.
“Tell me,” he murmured, his voice low, measured. “When was the last time you believed in it?”
Sophia blinked, turning her gaze back to him. “Believed in what?”
“In love.”
She let out a breathy laugh, the kind that wasn’t really laughter at all. “I don’t think I ever did. Not really.” She paused, then admitted, “But I wanted to.”
Adrian felt that confession settle in his bones. He knew that feeling well—the desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, love wasn’t the illusion he had always believed it to be.
“I used to think,” she continued, tracing the rim of her wine glass with a delicate finger, “that if I just gave enough, if I just loved hard enough, it would be enough to make someone stay.”
He didn’t miss the tremor in her voice. He wanted to tell her she had never been the problem. That she had never needed to prove her worth to men too blind to see it. But words had never been his weapon of choice.
Instead, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing over hers. She flinched—just barely—but she didn’t pull away.
“Maybe love isn’t about making someone stay,” he said, watching her carefully. “Maybe it’s about finding someone who doesn’t need convincing.”
Her breath hitched. And for a fleeting moment, Adrian wondered if he had said too much. If he had let too much slip.
Because this wasn’t just about Sophia’s heartbreak.
It was about his own.
About the nights he had spent convincing himself he was better off alone. About the moments he had watched her from the sidelines, never daring to step forward. About the years he had told himself he didn’t feel anything when, in reality, he had been feeling everything.
He had never wanted to be the man who caught feelings. Never wanted to be the one who saw someone else’s pain and ached to take it away.
But sitting across from Sophia, he realized that maybe love wasn’t the lie he had always believed it to be.
Maybe, just maybe, it had been waiting for him all along.
Chapter 3: The Risk of FallingThe warmth of Adrian’s fingers lingered long after he pulled away. A simple touch, nothing more. And yet, it unraveled something inside her—something she wasn’t ready to name.
Sophia had spent years building walls so high even she sometimes forgot what lay behind them. She had learned to smile through disappointment, to laugh at the absurdity of her own failed love stories, to wear her heartbreak like an elegant coat that no one could see through.
But Adrian had always seen.
It unnerved her, the way he looked at her now. Like he wasn’t just listening to her words but hearing the ones she hadn’t spoken. Like he knew how much she wanted to believe in love again but was terrified of what it might cost her.
Because that was the truth, wasn’t it?
Love had never just been a feeling for her. It had been a risk. A gamble. A slow-building hope that had shattered every time she placed her heart in someone else’s hands.
And Adrian Blackwood was a man who had never gambled with emotions.
“I don’t think I know how to trust it anymore,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Love, I mean.”
His gaze never wavered. “Maybe that’s because you’ve never been given a reason to.”
She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It is.”
Sophia arched a brow, studying him. “You say that like you’ve figured it out.”
“I haven’t,” Adrian admitted. “But I know that love isn’t supposed to feel like something you have to earn.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
Because that was exactly what she had been doing—her whole life.
Trying to be enough. Trying to fit into someone else’s idea of who she should be. Trying to shape herself into the kind of woman a man might choose to stay for.
She had spent years contorting herself into someone more lovable, more desirable, more worthy. And still, they had all left.
Her first love, who chose another girl.
The man who dangled a velvet box in front of her, only to fill it with jewelry instead of promises.
The one who walked away without a goodbye, as if her love had meant nothing.
And now Adrian sat across from her, saying words that were unraveling every lie she had ever told herself.
Maybe you’ve just given your heart to the wrong people.
Maybe you’ve been looking for love in the wrong places.
Maybe love isn’t supposed to feel like something you have to earn.
She wanted to believe him.
God, she wanted to believe him.
But she was afraid.
Afraid that if she let herself believe—if she let herself hope—she would only end up proving herself right. That love was nothing more than a beautifully wrapped illusion, waiting to break her all over again.
“You think I’ve been looking in the wrong places,” she murmured, her fingers toying with the stem of her glass. “Tell me, Adrian… where should I have been looking?”
She didn’t know why she asked. Maybe she wanted to hear him say it. Maybe she wanted him to finally put words to what had been lingering between them for years.
For a long moment, he was silent.
Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he reached for her hand again—this time, threading his fingers through hers.
“Here,” he said softly. “Maybe you should have been looking here.”
The world stilled.
Sophia felt her heart slam against her ribs, her breath catching in her throat.
Because there it was—the risk.
Right in front of her.
And for the first time in a long, long time, she wondered if maybe… just maybe… it was one worth taking.
I hope you enjoyed this excerpt. The full-length story, The Valentine Gamble: A runaway bride, friends-to-lovers-romance is out now!
AMAZON:
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DX9SCVJT
CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0DX9SCVJT
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DX9SCVJT
AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0DX9SCVJT
iBOOKS, BARNES & NOBLE AND OTHER GREAT BOOKSTORES:
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p.s. you may also enjoy
free chapters: Lucky: The Sheikh’s Forbidden LovePrologue: The Day Everything ChangedThe sun hung high in the sky, fierce and relentless, baking the marble courtyard beneath Haya’s bare feet. She barely noticed. She only had eyes for her daughters—her whole world wrapped in the giggles and tiny hands of three little girls.
Nine-year-old Amira, bold and fearless, twirled like a desert dancer, her dark curls catching the light. Six-year-old Laila sat cross-legged beside her, carefully painting a picture with the watercolors Haya had given her that morning. And three-year-old Noor, her baby, clutched her mother’s dress, humming softly as she traced patterns in the dust with her little fingers.
Haya closed her eyes and breathed them in, their laughter, their innocence, their scent of jasmine oil and fresh air. A moment so perfect it almost hurt.
Then she heard the gate creak open.
Kareem.
Her estranged husband’s presence always sent a chill through her, despite the blistering heat. Tall, impeccably dressed, with the kind of wealth that could buy silence, he moved with the quiet arrogance of a man who had always controlled everything—except her love.
The post A Love Story appeared first on Mollie Mathews.
February 13, 2025
Lucky: The Sheikh’s Forbidden Love
A Marriage of Convenience, Enemies-to-Lovers Sheikh Romance
DIRECT l AMAZON l IBOOKS l BARNES & NOBLE l OTHER
A Sheikh. A Mother’s Lost Daughters. A Love That Defies a Kingdom.
She thought she had lost everything. He proved that love is worth the fight.
After her daughters were stolen from her, Haya vowed never to love again. For ten years, she searched for them, surviving on sheer determination and the belief that a mother’s love could conquer even the darkest forces. But when she crosses paths with Sheikh Rafiq Al-Masri, a ruler bound by duty and power, he offers her a deal—one that could reunite her with her children.
The price? A marriage of convenience that would shatter every wall she has built around her heart.
Rafiq has spent his life as a king, bound to his kingdom, never allowing himself the luxury of love. But when Haya storms into his life with her fire and defiance, he risks everything—including his throne—to bring her daughters home.
But when a devastating betrayal is revealed, can their love survive the truth? Or will the cost of happiness be too high?
A slow-burn, high-stakes romance filled with passion, betrayal, and redemption
A billionaire sheikh torn between duty and love
A mother’s relentless fight for her lost daughters
An unforgettable journey across Santorini and the golden sands of the desert
A love so powerful, it changes everything
DIRECT l AMAZON l IBOOKS l BARNES & NOBLE l OTHER
The sun hung high in the sky, fierce and relentless, baking the marble courtyard beneath Haya’s bare feet. She barely noticed. She only had eyes for her daughters—her whole world wrapped in the giggles and tiny hands of three little girls.
Nine-year-old Amira, bold and fearless, twirled like a desert dancer, her dark curls catching the light. Six-year-old Laila sat cross-legged beside her, carefully painting a picture with the watercolors Haya had given her that morning. And three-year-old Noor, her baby, clutched her mother’s dress, humming softly as she traced patterns in the dust with her little fingers.
Haya closed her eyes and breathed them in, their laughter, their innocence, their scent of jasmine oil and fresh air. A moment so perfect it almost hurt.
Then she heard the gate creak open.
Kareem.
Her estranged husband’s presence always sent a chill through her, despite the blistering heat. Tall, impeccably dressed, with the kind of wealth that could buy silence, he moved with the quiet arrogance of a man who had always controlled everything—except her love.
She straightened, instinct tightening around her ribs.
“What are you doing here?”
Kareem barely spared her a glance. His gaze was on their daughters. A gaze that made her blood run cold.
“They’re coming with me.”
The words shattered the afternoon like glass hitting stone.
Haya stepped forward, her breath shallow. “No.”
“They are my daughters, Haya,” he said smoothly, as if she were an inconvenience rather than their mother. “And I am their father.”
She shook her head violently. Something was wrong. Kareem never showed interest in the girls, never spent time with them. Why now?
“They’re not going anywhere.”
Kareem’s lips curled. “You don’t have a choice.”
She did then what every mother would do. She fought.
She grabbed Noor, her arms tightening around the toddler’s small body. She reached for Amira and Laila, but Kareem’s guards were already stepping in.
The girls were screaming.
“Mama!”
“Let me go!”
“Please, Mama!”
Haya struggled, kicked, screamed until her throat burned, but it was like fighting against a hurricane. Kareem’s men pulled her away, ripping her babies from her arms.
The last thing she saw was Noor’s tiny fingers reaching for her, Laila’s sobbing face pressed against the car window, and Amira—strong, brave Amira—beating her fists against the glass.
Then they were gone.
Just like that.
Her world ended.
Haya sat in the darkness, Malik’s small body pressed against her side.
The boy, only five, didn’t understand. He had never been hers, not by blood, but she had raised him since the moment Kareem brought him home from another woman’s womb.
His little hands clung to her. “Where are Amira and Laila?” he whispered. “Where’s Noor?”
Haya swallowed her grief, her rage.
“I don’t know, habibi.”
But she would find them. She would fight for them. She would not lose her daughters.
Then the phone rang.
She answered with trembling fingers. A man’s voice, unfamiliar. Cold.
“There’s been an accident.”
The words blurred together—a crash, a fire, no survivors.
Kareem was dead.
And with him, the only truth about where he had hidden her daughters.
Haya dropped the phone. A scream built in her chest, a mother’s agony so raw it could tear the world apart.
Instead, she did the only thing she could.
She wrapped her arms around Malik and held on—because he was the only child left.
And she would love him, fiercely, completely, as if he had been hers all along.
Because love was the only thing she had left.
Chapter 1: The Woman Who Lost EverythingThe waves lapped gently against the shore, their rhythm steady, unchanging, indifferent to the passage of time. Santorini’s whitewashed buildings shimmered under the golden afternoon sun, standing against the backdrop of an impossibly blue sky. It was the kind of beauty people traveled across the world to see.
For Haya, it was simply home.
Ten years had passed since her world shattered. Ten years since her daughters were taken. Ten years since she had vowed never to let herself love so deeply again.
Now, she poured all her devotion into Malik, the boy who had been left behind.
At seventeen, he towered over her, his once-round face sharpened by time. He had Kareem’s dark, knowing eyes, but they were filled with a warmth his father had never possessed. He had been her salvation and her purpose, the only thing that had kept her standing when grief had tried to pull her under.
Malik didn’t remember much of his father. Maybe that was a blessing.
He had grown up on the island, helping her run the boutique hotel she had built from nothing. The guests adored him—his easy laughter, his ability to charm with just a look. He was everything his father had never been.
And today, he had finally convinced her to take a break.
“Mama, you need to leave the hotel for more than five minutes. I’m serious.” Malik had practically dragged her out the door that morning, his eyes filled with affectionate exasperation.
So here she was, sitting on a sun-drenched bench in the town square, watching as he played soccer with a group of local kids. He had always been easy with people, quick to laugh, quick to care.
She had raised him well.
She should have been happy.
But instead, she felt hollow.
Because every time she watched Malik play, she saw ghosts.
Amira. Laila. Noor.
Would Amira have been just as fearless? Would Laila have been the quiet observer, the artist? Would Noor have been clumsy like she was at that age?
Would they have forgiven her for not finding them?
Haya swallowed against the ache rising in her throat, her fingers curling into her lap.
She had learned to live with the pain.
She had not learned to silence it.
Laughter rang through the air—a sound she had once loved, now a reminder of what she had lost.
A woman sat on the next bench over, scrolling through her phone while her two daughters—one six, the other nine—chased each other through the park.
The same ages as Laila and Amira had been.
Haya forced herself to look away.
But then the woman sighed dramatically, shaking her head as if her life was the greatest burden in the world.
“You’re lucky you’ve only got one child.”
The words sliced through Haya like a blade.
She turned slowly, her chest tightening as she took in the woman’s tired expression, the casual way she spoke, as if she didn’t see the gift in front of her.
“Luck?” Haya’s voice was hoarse.
The woman barely looked up. “Yeah. These two fight all the time. They drive me crazy. Honestly, I wish I’d just had one.”
Haya went still.
Something inside her cracked, and before she could stop herself, the words poured out like poison.
“Be careful what you wish for.”
The woman blinked, finally giving her a proper look. “What did you say?”
Haya’s heart pounded. She should walk away.
She didn’t.
She turned fully toward the woman, her voice a whisper edged with steel.
“I wish I had my girls all the time. I wish their father hadn’t taken them that day. I wish I’d listened to my intuition and snatched them back. I wish I’d been luckier.”
The woman’s mouth parted in shock.
But Haya wasn’t finished.
“People like you make me sick.” Her voice trembled, but it didn’t break. “You’ve got all the luck, and all you can do is complain. And then there’s me. Do you know what I’ve got?”
The woman shook her head, silent now.
Haya’s breath shuddered. “My daughters were stolen from me. My husband hated me so much that he killed the people closest to me. And the only child I have left? He’s not even mine by blood. But I love him. And if I’m lucky, he won’t grow up with the same hate that destroyed his father. If we’re both lucky, he’ll grow into a man who knows how to love.”
Her voice dropped, barely audible now.
“But it won’t be luck. It will be a choice.”
The woman stared, wide-eyed, speechless.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the wind and the sound of children laughing.
Haya stood abruptly, her pulse roaring in her ears.
She needed to leave.
She turned away, her hands shaking, her breath uneven.
But before she could take a step, a voice—deep, unfamiliar, laced with something she couldn’t name—stopped her in her tracks.
“Who are you?”
She spun around.
And there he was.
A man standing at the edge of the park, dressed in crisp white linen, dark eyes locked onto hers with quiet intensity.
Sheikh Rafiq Al-Masri.
The moment their gazes met, the world shifted.
Haya didn’t know it yet.
But the past she had buried was about to rise again.
And her life—her carefully rebuilt, guarded life—was about to be changed forever.
DIRECT l AMAZON l IBOOKS l BARNES & NOBLE l OTHER
Buy this book through the links below…
Direct from Mollie:
Lucky: The Sheikh’s Forbidden Love
To enjoy your copy from Amazon:
US:https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DWYHM38D
CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0DWYHM38D
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DWYHM38D
AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0DWYHM38D
IBOOKS, BARNES & NOBLE, KOBO and other great bookstores:
https://books2read.com/u/mZkg62
LUCKY: THE SHEIKH’S FORBIDDEN LOVE is part of Mollie Mathews’ SHORT SWEET SHEIKH LOVE STORIES collection, starring maverick Sheikh billionaires and fiercely independent later-in-life heroines. It forms the genesis for longer sheikh-inspired romances to be released. If you find a character you love, they could be in another full-length novel!
Short, Sweet Sheikh Love Stories
Destiny (Omar and Danielle)
Perfect (Hamad and Nicky)
Full-Length Love Stories
The Sheikhs Untamed Brides
Claimed by the Sheikh (Tariq and Melanie)
Stolen By The Sheikh (Anwar and Lucy)
Bought By The Sheikh (Fazza and Grace)
Tamed By The Sheikh (Hamad and Nicky) Coming soon.
Tamed By The Sheikh (Hamad and Nicky) Coming soon.
True Love:
Love In Venice (Mauro and Maggie) (3rd prize, Koru Excellence in Romance Award)
Love In Mexico (Ruby and Oliver)
Love In Sicily (Gianni and Kate
Love In Montana (Lizzie and Jack)
Love in Tuscany (Lorenzo and Sophia)
Love In Greece ( (Sophia and Aris)
Love in Santorini (Helena And Damon)
The post Lucky: The Sheikh’s Forbidden Love appeared first on Mollie Mathews.
February 11, 2025
Writing from the Heart: How to Write a Book Review That Matters
I recently received the following email from a reader and it made me think about how important it is to write from your heart.
“Dear Mollie:
I don’t think I have posted reviews before, because I never know what to say. The reviews that I have read kind of scare me; they sound so knowledgeable and sophisticated. I only know whether I enjoyed a book or not. Do you have to be taught how to review a book?”
I only know whether I enjoyed a book or not.
This email touched me deeply because it’s a question I know many readers wonder about. If you’ve ever hesitated to leave a review because you weren’t sure how to express your thoughts, you are not alone.
The truth is, you don’t have to be a literary critic to write a great review. The best reviews come from the heart. They don’t need to be long, scholarly, or full of fancy words. They simply need to be honest and genuine.
Why Book Reviews MatterAs an author, I can’t tell you how much a review means to me. When you take a few moments to share your thoughts, you help other readers decide whether a book is right for them. You also support authors—especially independent authors like me—by helping our books reach a wider audience.
Think of it this way: when you recommend a book to a friend, you don’t pull out a literary analysis. You simply say, “I loved it!” or “The characters stayed with me long after I finished.” A review is just that—a conversation with other readers.
How to Write a Simple Yet Meaningful ReviewIf you’re unsure where to start, here are a few simple questions to guide your review:
1. How did the book make you feel?Did it make you laugh, cry, swoon, or keep you on the edge of your seat?Did you feel transported to another place or time?Example: “This book swept me away to Tuscany, and I felt like I was right there, drinking wine under the stars!”
From Mollie
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Amazon
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Kobo
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iBooks
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Barnes and Noble
Example: “I fell in love with the hero! His devotion to the heroine melted my heart.”
Direct;
Amazon
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Kobo
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iBooks
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Barnes and Noble
Example: “If you love feel-good romances with a touch of adventure, this book is for you!”
Amazon; Kobo: iBooks; Barnes and Noble
4. Short and Sweet Works Too!A review doesn’t have to be long. Even a single sentence helps!
Example: “This book was a beautiful escape—I couldn’t put it down!”
Reviews of My Books—From Readers Just Like YouI want to share a few reviews from readers who wrote straight from the heart. They weren’t professional critics—just book lovers like you.
Love in Venice“Mollie Mathews has a way of making you feel like you’re right there, walking through the winding streets of Venice. I fell in love with the city and the characters. A truly magical read!”
Love in Montana“This book had me laughing, crying, and completely immersed in the love story. Jack and Lizzie’s chemistry was sizzling, and I couldn’t get enough of their banter!”
Love in Tuscany“I finished this book in one sitting! The descriptions of Tuscany were so vivid, and the romance was utterly swoon-worthy. I can’t wait to read more by Mollie Mathews!”
Ready to Write Your First Review?If you’ve ever read one of my books—or any book—that moved you, I encourage you to share your thoughts. Remember: there’s no wrong way to write a review. Whether it’s a heartfelt paragraph or a single sentence, what matters most is that it’s your voice.
And if you’d like to leave a review for one of my books, you can do so on:
Amazon Goodreads BookBub
Thank you for supporting books and authors—you make a difference!
Have you ever struggled with writing a review? Or do you have a favorite book review you’ve written or read? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments!
Mollie Mathews
The Power of Leaving Book Reviews: Why Your Opinion Matters
Why your reviews matter…
The post Writing from the Heart: How to Write a Book Review That Matters appeared first on Mollie Mathews.
February 6, 2025
Untamed By The Sheikh
Enemies by fate, lovers by desire—a royal romance that burns as hot as the desert sun.
Amara Sinclair is an ambitious archaeologist determined to uncover the secrets buried in the sands of Jafir. But her bold quest brings her face-to-face with Sheikh Khalid Al Karim, the untamed and enigmatic ruler of the desert kingdom. Known for his unwavering adherence to tradition, Khalid is a man who protects his throne at all costs—even if it means silencing Amara and the truths she seeks to uncover.
When Amara’s discovery threatens to expose a scandal that could shake Jafir’s royal lineage, Khalid offers her a dangerous deal: stay under his watchful eye in the palace or abandon her research forever. Forced into close proximity, their fiery clashes ignite a forbidden passion neither of them can deny. But as political tensions rise and secrets come to light, their undeniable chemistry turns into a love that could destroy them both.
Khalid must choose between his duty to his people and his heart, while Amara wrestles with the cost of sacrificing her independence for the man she never expected to love.
Can two fiercely independent souls find a way to bridge the gap between their worlds, or will the desert winds carry their love away?
Perfect for fans of enemies-to-lovers, forbidden love, and sizzling royal romances, Untamed by the Sheikh delivers passion, intrigue, and a love story as untamed as the desert itself.
Buy From Mollie l Amazon; Kobo: iBooks; Barnes and Noble
FROM MOLLIE:
Untamed By The Sheikh
AMAZON:
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DVD59L26
CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0DVD59L26
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DVD59L26
AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0DVD59L26
iBOOKS, BARNES & NOBLE AND OTHER GREAT BOOKSTORES:
https://books2read.com/u/4A0wQK
UNTAMED BY THE SHEIKH is part of Mollie Mathews’ THE SHEIKHS UNTAMED BRIDES series starring Maverick Sheikh Billionaires. While it can easily be read as a standalone story, you’ll likely enjoy reading the other books, too. All of Mollie’s series are linked. If you find a character you love, they could be in another book!
THE SHEIKHS UNTAMED BRIDES
Claimed by the Sheikh (Tariq and Melanie)
Stolen By The Sheikh (Anwar and Lucy)
Bought By The Sheikh (Fazza and Grace)
The post Untamed By The Sheikh appeared first on Mollie Mathews.
February 1, 2025
FEBRUARY IS FOR ROMANCE!
Hi my lovely
I am still dining out on this lovely memory of the sunflowers Lorenzo sent me last Valentine’s Day!
Not many sleeps now until the day of love rolls around again. Here’s some love-inspired gifts for you. Read to the end for a free excerpt from my new release, Untamed By The Sheikh.
Discover new reads by filling your e-readers with these fantastic free offerings-including my The Italian Billionaire’s Christmas Bride and 5 Nights With The Duke (written using my pen name, Eloisa George.
https://books.bookfunnel.com/FebruaryisforROMANCE/f3xu1yi6uj
Enjoy Claimed By The Sheikh and other great reads on this giveaway promo:
https://books.bookfunnel.com/351z1432ik/4of5hy1fgl
Enemies by fate, lovers by desire—a royal romance that burns as hot as the desert sun.Dear Romance Adventurers,
Are you ready to be swept away on a sizzling, sun-drenched escape? Untamed by the Sheikh is your VIP ticket to a world of forbidden desire, scorching chemistry, and a love story that will leave you breathless. Think moonlit desert rendezvous, an untamable sheikh with secrets of his own, and a heroine who just might be his match in every way.
ENJOY A FREE EXCERPT BELOW
Here’s a little more re the story:
Amara Sinclair is an ambitious archaeologist determined to uncover the secrets buried in the sands of Jafir. But her bold quest brings her face-to-face with Sheikh Khalid Al Karim, the untamed and enigmatic ruler of the desert kingdom. Known for his unwavering adherence to tradition, Khalid is a man who protects his throne at all costs—even if it means silencing Amara and the truths she seeks to uncover.
When Amara’s discovery threatens to expose a scandal that could shake Jafir’s royal lineage, Khalid offers her a dangerous deal: stay under his watchful eye in the palace or abandon her research forever. Forced into close proximity, their fiery clashes ignite a forbidden passion neither of them can deny.
But as political tensions rise and secrets come to light, their undeniable chemistry turns into a love that could destroy them both. Khalid must choose between his duty to his people and his heart, while Amara wrestles with the cost of sacrificing her independence for the man she never expected to love.
Can two fiercely independent souls find a way to bridge the gap between their worlds, or will the desert winds carry their love away?
Perfect for fans of enemies-to-lovers, forbidden love, and sizzling royal romances, Untamed by the Sheikh delivers passion, intrigue, and a love story as untamed as the desert itself.
GRAB YOUR COPY
Buy From Mollie l Amazon; Kobo: iBooks; Barnes and Noble
EXCERPT: UNTAMED BY THE SHEIKH
Amara Sinclair shielded her eyes from the blazing desert sun as she stepped off the rickety truck that had brought her to the edge of Jafir’s capital. The air shimmered with heat, the vast expanse of golden sand stretching endlessly around her. Yet, she felt no discomfort. Her heart raced, not with the thrill of discovery, but with a simmering determination. This was her chance to make history, and no one—not even the infamous Sheikh Khalid Al Karim—would stand in her way.
The palace loomed in the distance, its domes and spires gleaming like a mirage. The sight took her breath away for a moment, its elegance a stark contrast to the harsh, untamed landscape that surrounded it. But Amara was not one to be easily impressed by grandeur. She had seen beauty before—in ancient ruins buried beneath centuries of earth, in the intricate carvings of forgotten civilizations. Beauty was fleeting. Truth was eternal.
Adjusting her satchel, she made her way toward the palace gates, where guards clad in flowing white robes and ceremonial swords blocked her path. Their piercing gazes flicked over her dusty jeans and linen blouse, their expressions a mixture of suspicion and disdain. Amara straightened her spine, her chin lifting in defiance.
“I have an appointment with His Majesty, Sheikh Khalid Al Karim,” she announced, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her stomach.
The guards exchanged a glance. One of them murmured into a sleek communication device, and within moments, a stern-faced man in a tailored suit appeared. His presence was as commanding as the palace itself.
“Dr. Sinclair, I presume?” he said, his English tinged with an accent as polished as his attire. “His Majesty is expecting you. Follow me.”
Amara’s pulse quickened as she was led through the palace’s labyrinthine halls. The scent of jasmine and sandalwood lingered in the air, mingling with the faint hum of a fountain somewhere nearby. The walls were adorned with intricate mosaics and tapestries that spoke of Jafir’s rich history—a history she was here to uncover.
But as she stepped into the grand chamber where Khalid awaited her, she felt a different kind of tension. It was not the awe of history but the intensity of the man himself.
Seated on a gilded chair, Sheikh Khalid Al Karim exuded a quiet power that was more arresting than any royal regalia. His sharp amber eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. He rose slowly, his movements deliberate, like a lion sizing up its prey.
“You are late,” he said, his voice low and rich, a blend of disdain and curiosity.
Amara’s cheeks flushed, but she refused to let his intimidating presence rattle her. “I wasn’t aware punctuality was your greatest concern, Your Majesty,” she replied, her tone crisp.
A flicker of amusement crossed his face, though it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “You come into my kingdom, demanding access to sensitive archives, and now you insult me?” He stepped closer, his gaze narrowing. “Why are you really here, Dr. Sinclair?”
Amara refused to back down. She met his gaze head-on, her voice steady. “Because history matters. Your archives hold the key to understanding Jafir’s past—a past that could illuminate the future for your people. But I suspect you already know that, and you’re afraid of what I might uncover.”
Khalid’s jaw tightened, and the tension in the room crackled like a desert storm. “You tread dangerous ground,” he warned. “There are truths that should remain buried.”
“That’s not for you to decide,” Amara shot back. “History belongs to everyone, not just those who hold power.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, the air between them charged with an unspoken challenge. Khalid’s gaze softened, but only slightly, as though he saw something in her that intrigued him.
“You are bold, Dr. Sinclair,” he said finally, his tone colder than his words. “But boldness will not grant you what you seek.”
“Neither will fear,” she countered.
Khalid’s lips curved into a faint smile, one that did little to disguise the edge in his expression. “Very well,” he said. “You may have one chance to prove yourself. But know this: If you overstep, you will regret it.”
Amara’s heart thundered as he dismissed her with a flick of his hand. She turned on her heel, her head held high, though the weight of his gaze followed her all the way to the door.
As she stepped back into the labyrinth of the palace, she felt a strange mix of triumph and foreboding. She had secured her chance, but at what cost? Sheikh Khalid Al Karim was no ordinary ruler. He was a man of contradictions—unyielding yet curious, ruthless yet intriguing. And Amara couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a battle far more dangerous than she had anticipated.
The desert winds whispered through the palace corridors, carrying with them a promise: nothing would ever be the same again.
ENJOY NOW!
FROM MOLLIE:
Untamed By The Sheikh
AMAZON:
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DVD59L26
CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0DVD59L26
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DVD59L26
AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0DVD59L26
iBOOKS, BARNES & NOBLE AND OTHER GREAT BOOKSTORES:
https://books2read.com/u/4A0wQK
UNTAMED BY THE SHEIKH is part of Mollie Mathews’ THE SHEIKHS UNTAMED BRIDES series starring Maverick Sheikh Billionaires. While it can easily be read as a standalone story, you’ll likely enjoy reading the other books, too. All of Mollie’s series are linked. If you find a character you love, they could be in another book!
THE SHEIKHS UNTAMED BRIDES
Claimed by the Sheikh (Tariq and Melanie)
Stolen By The Sheikh (Anwar and Lucy)
Bought By The Sheikh (Fazza and Grace)
Untamed By The Sheikh
AMAZON:
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DVD59L26
CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0DVD59L26
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DVD59L26
AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0DVD59L26
iBOOKS, BARNES & NOBLE AND OTHER GREAT BOOKSTORES:
https://books2read.com/u/4A0wQKUNTAMED BY THE SHEIKH is part of Mollie Mathews’ THE SHEIKHS UNTAMED BRIDES series starring Maverick Sheikh Billionaires. While it can easily be read as a standalone story, you’ll likely enjoy reading the other books, too. All of Mollie’s series are linked. If you find a character you love, they could be in another book!
THE SHEIKHS UNTAMED BRIDES
Claimed by the Sheikh (Tariq and Melanie)
Stolen By The Sheikh (Anwar and Lucy)
Bought By The Sheikh (Fazza and Grace)
The post FEBRUARY IS FOR ROMANCE! appeared first on Mollie Mathews.
January 25, 2025
Unapologetically you
Dear reader
The short story below was inspired by a true event and the incredible resilience of those who have faced unimaginable challenges. In December 2020, a young girl survived a traumatic dog attack that left her with life-altering injuries. Despite the physical and emotional scars, she found the courage to continue showing up for life.
Her journey inspired me to explore the quiet strength it takes to reclaim your identity after trauma, especially in a world that often focuses too much on outward appearances. The connection between Chloe and Poppy Pac reflects a universal truth: we all carry scars, visible or invisible, and they shape who we are. But our scars don’t define us—they tell a story of survival, courage, and the beauty of being human.
To anyone who has ever felt held back by their scars, this short story is for you. May you find the strength to embrace your unique beauty and live unapologetically.
With love,
Mollie Mathews
The Beauty in Our Scars
Chloe sat in front of the mirror, staring at the tube of lipstick in her hand. It was a bold red—striking, unapologetic, alive. Everything she felt she wasn’t. Her reflection bore the faint, jagged scars that ran from her lip toward her cheek. Her top lip, carefully reconstructed from a piece of her own body, never quite matched the rest of her face. She’d long ago learned to blend into the background, avoiding bold colors, loud laughter, and anything that might draw attention.
When she was ten, the dog attack had left her broken in ways more profound than the physical. Kids at school had been merciless. Their cruel taunts echoed in her mind even now:
“Your face looks like your butt!”
“Chloe Arse-Face!”
The words stung then, and they stung now. She touched her lip self-consciously. Lipstick felt like an impossible indulgence, a beacon calling for attention she didn’t want. Yet here she was, staring at this bold red color, daring herself to wear it.
The knock on her door startled her. It was Poppy Pac, the lipstick designer who had built an empire on empowering women. Chloe hadn’t expected her to come. She hadn’t even expected her to read the letter she’d written—a long, rambling note about scars, shame, and why lipstick terrified her. But Poppy had not only read it; she’d arrived with her trademark confidence and warmth.
“Can I come in?” Poppy asked, stepping into the room without waiting for an answer. She carried a small bag, its golden logo glinting in the light. “I brought a little something for you.”
Chloe hesitated but nodded, her fingers curling around the lipstick in her hand.
“I know what you’re feeling,” Poppy began, her tone soft but resolute. “When I was thirteen, a freak accident left me with scars I couldn’t hide. Everyone could see them, and no amount of makeup could make me forget they were there. For years, I didn’t look in the mirror. I didn’t want to see myself because I thought I was ruined.”
Chloe blinked, startled. “You don’t look… I mean…”
“I don’t look scarred?” Poppy smiled knowingly. “That’s the magic of time and learning to love the things that make us unique. And the truth is, scars tell a story—our story. My story is written on my skin, and so is yours. And you know what? That’s beautiful.”
Chloe looked away, her eyes misting. “It’s not just the scars. It’s… how it happened. The teasing. Knowing people look at me and see something wrong.”
“Wrong?” Poppy’s voice turned firm. “There is nothing wrong about surviving. That dog didn’t take your beauty, Chloe—it gave you a story of strength. And you know what? It would be such a shame to let it hold you back. To let it stop you from living. From experiencing your first kiss.”
Chloe flushed. “I don’t… I don’t want anyone to see me that close.”
“I thought that, too,” Poppy admitted. “But then I realized, the right person doesn’t see the scars. They see the soul. The humor, the courage, the kindness. Everything else is just details.”
Chloe held the lipstick tighter, the weight of it suddenly feeling significant. “I’m just scared,” she whispered.
“That’s okay,” Poppy said gently. “Being scared doesn’t mean you stop. Being scared means you’re about to do something brave. And Chloe, putting on lipstick, looking in the mirror, and saying, ‘I am beautiful’—that’s brave. Don’t let that dog, those kids, or your fear steal that from you.”
Chloe hesitated, then, with trembling hands, uncapped the lipstick. She looked at her reflection again, at the faint scars and reconstructed lip that had once made her feel small. Slowly, she applied the vibrant red to her lips.
It was bold. Striking. Alive.
Poppy smiled, her eyes warm. “Now, look at you. Beautiful. Unapologetically you. In fact, it’s the perfect name for that lipstick. I’m going to name it after you.”
For the first time in years, Chloe smiled at her reflection. And she felt it—just a flicker, but enough. Beauty in her scars.
FOR THE LOVE OF LIPSTICK: COVER REVEALI hope you love this cover as much as I do. I am having so much fun writing this love story and researching the art of creating the perfect lipstick.
This book was inspired by my desire to create the perfect shade of lipstick. My perennial favorite, a Lancôme color called Persian Rose, had been discontinued, and I wondered if I could recreate it.
I went down the rabbit hole of research, finding many delightful treasures and scandalous secrets along the way. Who knew lipstick could be so thrilling?
If you read and enjoyed Bought By The Sheikh, you’ll have met my fledging lipstick designer Poppy Pac. I’ve always enjoyed hearing about people who, trying to survive a traumatic event, turn a hobby into a profitable career.
PREQUEL COMING SOON! MEANWHILE YOU MAY ENJOY MEETING POPPY IN BOUGHT BY THE SHEIKH
★★★★★ “A storyline that is not only poignant but chock full of beautiful life messages that warm one’s heart.”
Sometimes, love wins. Is this one of those times?
Charismatic playboy Sheikh Prince Fazza na Hassir faces a challenge that will test his business acumen and his heart. When his life collides with Grace Hunt, a fiercely independent and brilliant CEO who has relocated to Aibud to escape her toxic family, Fazza attempts to win her over with his wealth and power.
Grace remains steadfast in her determination not to be bought by the sheikh. Their clash of wills sets the stage for a mesmerizing tale of love, passion, and destiny.
Set against the backdrop of opulent Arabian palaces and the thrilling world of luxury cars, “Bought By The Sheikh” takes you on a journey where love knows no boundaries—a story of two souls, seemingly worlds apart, who find solace and strength in each other.
Defying the odds and rewriting their destinies, “Bought By The Sheikh” teaches us that sometimes, unconditional love is the greatest freedom of all.
Readers who love sheikdom stories will love this one with its familiar enemies to lovers; opposites attract the wrong side of the track and forced proximity tropes.
Enjoy this book through the links below…
AMAZON US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CRR3XQ5M
AMAZON CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0CRR3XQ5M
AMAZON UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CRR3XQ5M
AMAZON AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0CRR3XQ5M
UNIVERSAL LINK: https://mybook.to/BoughtByTheSheikh
iBOOK, BARNES AND NOBLE, AND OTHER GREAT BOOKSTORES
https://books2read.com/u/mKXvo5
Meet Poppy’s best friend, Lizzie
Meet Poppy’s best friend, Lizzie in Love In Montana. You’ll love following Lizzie and billionaire rancher Jack Archer’s rocky road to love.
Purchase direct from me and save: https://www.molliemathews.com/love-in-montana/
Amazon; Kobo: iBooks; Barnes and Noble
AMAZON:
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DHQSZQTG
CA:https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0DHQSZQTG
UK:https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DHQSZQTG
AU:https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0DHQSZQTG
iBOOK, BARNES AND NOBLE, AND OTHER GREAT BOOKSTORES: https://books2read.com/u/3JGv9K
The post Unapologetically you appeared first on Mollie Mathews.
January 8, 2025
Love More Loudly: A Call to Action
Recently, I came across a powerful message from British astrologer Pam Gregory, and it struck a deep chord in me. Her words, “Love more loudly,” resonate as both a plea and a challenge. In a world consumed by fear, war, and terror, her call reminds us of our incredible capacity to choose love as our loudest response. It’s about rising above the noise of negativity and embodying a force that uplifts, heals, and unites.
But how do we do it? How do we “love more loudly” when the world feels so heavy? I’ve been sitting with this question and came up with practical ways to turn this sentiment into action. Let me share some ideas with you.
1. Speak LoveWords are powerful. Use them to spread love—loudly and unapologetically. Compliment a stranger, tell your loved ones you appreciate them, or leave uplifting comments on someone’s social media post. Imagine what would happen if every kind word created a ripple of joy that traveled further than we could see.
2. Act LoveActions amplify words. Small acts of kindness—like helping a neighbor, donating to a cause you believe in, or surprising a friend with a thoughtful gesture—create an undeniable wave of love. Even holding the door open or smiling at someone can make a difference. Let love be the intention behind your actions.
3. Be LoveThis one’s personal. Be the love you wish to see in the world. Practice self-love and compassion. Meditate, journal, or spend time in nature to keep your own heart open and your spirit resilient. When you operate from a place of self-love, your energy inspires others to do the same.
It’s a truth universally acknowledged by storytellers: some of the best, most gripping stories come from real-life experiences—especially the messy, unresolved ones. Read more on my blog>>
4. Share LoveSocial media can be a powerful tool. Use it to share messages of hope, inspiration, and positivity. Share stories of people helping others, beautiful moments of humanity, or even your own reflections on how you’re learning to love more loudly. Let’s drown out the noise of fear with a flood of love-filled content. Sharing love is one of the primary reasons I write love stories—I share more about this on my blog>>
5. Choose LoveWhen faced with conflict, disagreement, or frustration, take a deep breath and choose love. Respond with kindness instead of anger, empathy instead of judgment, and patience instead of irritation. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.
6. Create LoveWhether it’s art, music, writing, or cooking, pour love into your creative pursuits. Share your creations with others—they’re extensions of your heart. Creativity is a universal language that connects us all.
Love is The Answer, SOLD.
7. Love the EarthThe planet needs our love too. Plant a tree, reduce your waste, or spend time appreciating the beauty of nature. When we care for the earth, we honor the love that sustains all life. Every time I sell a painting, for example, I plant a tree.
Some people rescue dogs, others cats, and my hero in Claimed by The Sheikh rescues endangered animals. My partner and I are rescuing endangered Monarch butterflies—I share more on my blog>> and write about butterflies in my love story, Flight of Passion
8. Build LoveGet involved in your community. Volunteer, mentor, or participate in initiatives that make a positive impact. When we come together to create solutions, we amplify love on a larger scale.
The noise of fear and terror thrives on division and despair, but love is louder. Love unites. Love heals. Let’s make it impossible for hate to drown out love by choosing to love more loudly, every single day.
A fun and creative way to create more love is by creating empowering stories. I hope you enjoy this fairy tale, inspired by the oracle card I drew today, Five of Cups Michelle Knight-Waite
The Tale of Seraphina and the Forgotten Chalicethe maiden of sorrow became the queen of light, her wings a beacon for all who sought to heal and rise again
In a land where stars kissed the hills and rivers murmured secrets to the skies, there lived a maiden named Seraphina. Her heart, though kind and tender, carried a shadow of sorrow. She was known for her butterfly wings—magnificent and golden—that shimmered like dawn’s first light. Yet, despite their beauty, Seraphina rarely flew, weighed down by grief that tethered her to the ground.
One fateful evening, while wandering through the emerald meadows, Seraphina stumbled upon an ancient chalice lying amidst wildflowers. It sparkled with a golden glow, yet it stood overturned, its contents spilled into the earth. Around it lay four other chalices, broken and battered, their once-bright surfaces dulled by time.
As she gazed upon the forgotten cups, a voice as soft as moonlight spoke. “Seraphina, why do you linger in sorrow?” It was the Star-Queen, descending from the heavens in a gown woven from galaxies. “These chalices are your story.”
Seraphina knelt, her butterfly wings trembling. “What story? My heart knows only loss.”
The Star-Queen gestured to the broken cups. “Each represents pain you have endured. But look closer.”
Seraphina peered at the chalices. In the smallest cracks of the broken cups, tiny seedlings had sprouted—vivid greens and delicate blossoms, fed by the spilled waters of the past. The standing chalice, gleaming and upright, was empty but untouched.
“You see,” the Star-Queen continued, “from every sorrow, something new blooms. And though much was lost, one cup remains whole—a vessel for hope.”
Tears fell from Seraphina’s eyes as she realized her pain had not been in vain. The Star-Queen touched her wings gently, and they began to glow brighter than ever before.
“The chalice is yours to fill,” the Star-Queen said. “Your journey begins anew.”
With newfound courage, Seraphina lifted the unbroken chalice and took to the skies, her golden wings carrying her higher than she had ever flown. As she soared, she felt the weight of sorrow melt into the winds. Below, the meadows she had wandered began to bloom with life—fields of flowers spilling across the horizon.
From that day on, Seraphina was known as the Butterfly Keeper, the one who carried a chalice of hope and reminded the world that even in brokenness, beauty could grow.
And so, the maiden of sorrow became the queen of light, her wings a beacon for all who sought to heal and rise again.
The stars, watching her ascent, whispered, “Even from fallen cups, the nectar of life may flow.”
*** THE END ***
I’ll leave you with a question that I’m carrying with me: What’s one way you can love more loudly today? Let’s inspire each other in the comments.
YOU MAY ALSO ENJOYJoy and Sorrow The Inspiration behind Stolen by The Sheikh
The Light That Never Fades: Free Short Story
Claimed By The Sheikh Free Chapters
The post Love More Loudly: A Call to Action appeared first on Mollie Mathews.
