Robyn Echols's Blog, page 11

Wednesday Wonders: CHANGES OF THE HEART

Today's Wednesday Wonders is part of a blog tour for Changes of the Heart by Debra Erfert    

A coincidence is God’s way of staying anonymous.
Buying the 1920s farmhouse south of Phoenix, where the rumors of John Dillinger’s gang hid out in the 30s, is supposed to be Grace Evanheart’s way of escaping an old romance. When she finds an ancient diary with a map under the bedroom’s floorboard, the rumors solidify into fact. She doesn’t know who to trust with the news; Micah Stevens, the handsome deputy and the great grandson of the original landowners with whom she’s attracted, or Jerry, the young historian who seems too intent on learning about her new home?Micah seems convinced their paths cross exactly at the right time and in the right place for them to fall in love. Now he just has to convince Grace of the same thing before suspicions of his real motive have her running again.          


"Debra lives in Southwest Arizona, and has been married to Mike for 36 years. She's the mother of two awesome sons, who married their forever loves, and she's a grandmother to three beautiful grandchildren with one more on the way.

Debra wrote her first novella thirteen years ago just for grins. That brief taste into the world of an author started an undeniable writing obsession rivaling only her love of chocolate. She's an award-winning fine artist, and loves traveling with her husband."
Connect with the Author:
                  


Book Review by Robyn Echols:
There were many ways in which I quickly identified with Grace Evanheart, the first-person voice of this story. She decided on a change in her life, bought an old farm house out in the country, and. even though the power was not yet turned on, moved in as it was starting to grow dark. Her idea of starter furniture was plastic, the type you inflate. Thanks to the author’s description, I could picture her as she set about pumping it up in the glow of flashlights while pondering how long it would be before the stink of newly unfolded plastic dissipated.
Turned out there was quite a story to that old house, and the novel revealed it piece by suspenseful piece.

The first person who started providing Grace with information on the history of the house was the grandson of the former owner, Micah Stevens, who also happened to be the local deputy sheriff. Unaware the house had been sold, and fearing the worst when he saw the play of flashlight beams through the windows, he met the new owner when he made a grand entrance law enforcement style. 

I enjoyed watching the relationships develop between the characters. Micah showed his attachment to the old family home by being almost too helpful to Grace, who definitely was not graceful. She ended up spending more time in hospitals than the normal person. Then  Jerry developed an interest in Grace, leaving her wondering if she should encourage a relationship with him. Add to that, strange happenings around the house and barn threatened Grace’s peace of mind and eventually her life. 

Then there was the old diary of Micah’s great-grandmother which Grace decided to read before turning it back over to the family. It gradually revealed clues to why sinister forces might have an interest in the house and a motive to get rid of her. The story kept me guessing just who might be behind the threat to Grace’s home and her personal safety.
The story was well-written, suspenseful, had good character development and a twist at the end that caught me by surprise. It is a clean romance. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it, and highly recommend it.  


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A coincidence is God’s way of staying anonymous. CHANGES OF THE HEART
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Wednesday Wonders: LOOKING FOR LOVE

This week's Wednesday Wonders features Looking for Love The Album Book 1 - Ella’s Story Contemporary, FantasyBy Kathy Bosman
  Blurb:

When Ella Haviland inherits a magic antique photo album that reveals the future of potential couples, she starts a part-time matchmaking business with the help of her three best friends. It's always been her dream to help people find love. But finding true love herself isn't in her plans — even when her best guy friend Ross confesses he's fallen for her. Friendship and love equals recipe for disaster in her mind.
Ross Mitchell is devastated that Ella doesn't want more from their relationship. He withdraws ... but maybe he should play along when Ella tries to matchmake him with a friend, just to make her jealous. He will do anything to make her notice him.
Through a series of adventures and happenings, Ella discovers that maybe The Album brings more than love and magic into the lives of the people it touches. But can she find true love herself, or is there too much holding her back?
Excerpt:
“We’re so similar, it’s scary.”He stroked her cheek. “It’s nice.”“You’re nice.”Close up, he really had the best face in the world—a face that brought her the most comfort.He bent toward her until his lips touched hers, only a brush. She jerked back. “No, Ross.”What just happened? Did I give him the impression I…?“Ella, I…” He moved forward again as though she hadn’t just said no.“Ross, please.” She stopped him on the chest with her palm, closing her eyes to block out the sight of his mouth close to her. “Leave the kissing out of it. We’re friends. We’ve never had anything romantic.”“I can’t see why not.”“Do you have feelings for me?” She opened her eyes as the ache in her chest expanded again. She didn’t know how she would handle it if he did.“I don’t know. I care about you. You just looked kissable. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”“Okay, you scared me there. The last thing I want is another boyfriend. I’ve had my fill of relationships for a century.” She rolled her eyes. Although her tone came out light-hearted, the fear he’d want more had paralysed her for a second. She could have lost everything—except her besties and new job—in one week.Ross nodded. “I can relate to that.”“I seem to keep on attracting the wrong guys, or rather ones who don’t understand me.”He patted her on the knee, once again his normal, kind self. “One day, you’ll find someone.”“Yeah, one day. But not today. For now, I’m concentrating on building a life for myself. We’re still friends, right?” She’d hate to lose her precious friendship because of an attempted kiss.“Of course. We’ll always be friends. My partner in crime.” He knocked his knuckles against her fist in a fun gesture. Phew, he didn’t seem at all offended at her pushing him away romantically. Truly a saint, he was.

About the Author:

Kathy lives in South Africa, where the summers are hot, the winters cool and bugs thrive. She writes romance in many forms, most of the time with women who feel deeply, men who care strongly and characters who learn lessons along the way. Every so often, she sprinkles a little magic in her stories. When she’s not writing, she makes sure her kids work hard as they do school at home, tries not to get too distracted by dust bunnies and cooks up a storm to keep the tummies full. When she’s not hectically busy, she loves reading romance and fantasy novels, watching movies, and dabbling in different crafty things, depending on her mood.

Buy Links:Amazon  |  Smashwords  |  Kobo  
Connect with Kathy:
Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads  |  Pinterest  |
  Amazon Author Page  |  Newsletter Subscription Please tweet this blog Post:A magic antique photo album reveals the future LOOKING FOR LOVE @KathleenLBosman http://bit.ly/1oigqUr #WedWonders    
 

Wednesday Wonders: YET TO FORGIVE

This week's Wednesday Wonders features
About the book:
An 1880’s Western Saga…

When Boone Dillingham’s wife died unexpectedly, he blamed himself.  Lonely and self-destructive, he shut out everyone around him, even his own child. With nothing left to offer his son, Boone sends him to live with relatives in Coltonville, Texas. Will he lose his boy forever?
Buck is a precocious ten-year-old, even though he’s been orphaned by his mother and abandoned by his father. Undaunted, he refuses to lose hope. Running away from his new home, he embarks on a dangerous journey, believing that love is strong enough to change his father’s heart. Will he survive traveling hundreds of miles, only to be devastated by his father’s brokenness?
Caught between father and son, Colleen, the preacher’s daughter, will do everything possible to reunite them. 
Excerpt:
Topeka, Kansas January 1882          
CHAPTER ONE
     “How much do I owe you for the room?” Not wishing to be noticed, his voice was hushed and raspy.     Elizabeth Brody looked up at the ragged, unshaven man, and her gaze was drawn to the dark circles under his sad eyes. “Well, good afternoon, Mr. Dillingham. I hope you rested well. We told you last night that the room is on the house. You don’t owe us a thing. After all, we practically forced you to stay.”     Daniel “Boone” Dillingham didn’t remember the woman, who was obviously an owner of the hotel. And he surely didn’t remember any conversation about spending the night. It was all a fog, but he wasn’t about to admit it.     “Look, Mrs.—?”      “Brody. I’m Elizabeth, and my husband, Adam, is over there. She pointed across the room. “We own this establishment. I remember you were here sometime— last year, wasn’t it?”     He chose to ignore the question. “I’m paying for the room, whether you like it or not, ma’am. I may be a miserable excuse for a guest, and a fool to boot, but I can still pay my own way in this God-forsaken world. I apologize for the inconvenience.” He peeled off a couple of bills and tossed them on the counter before he turned to walk away.      Boone knew he was being rude, but he couldn’t get to the door fast enough. He was as humiliated as he’d ever been.      All he’d wanted to do yesterday was get into town for a good meal. He’d grown weary of his own cooking, as well as tired of eating alone. Not that he had anyone he’d like to actually sit with; he’d just wanted to watch something other than the wall of his cabin for a change. After he’d had his fill, he’d remembered the last time he’d sat at that particular table in the dining hall of the Brody Hotel, and he ordered a drink.      He didn’t want to remember last night. But as he walked down the road toward the stables, Boone cussed himself for having acted like a drunken fool, knowing full well he’d given in to the memories first, and then to the whiskey. He was able to keep his emotions in check, except when he drank.      Last night he drank to remember, and then he drank to forget. But how precious the memories that had surrounded him! With a feeling in his gut that threatened to take his breath away, even now the memories caused his heart to ache. He could just about imagine Amanda’s presence again. His precious wife, with her long dark hair and light brown eyes. She’d been so close to him last night, he’d have sworn he could reach out and touch her.      Following another drink, he’d imagined he’d heard her laughter, deep and soulful. A calm spirit had washed over him when he’d remembered her voice again as he’d sat at the corner table in the hotel’s dining room. Fingers wrapped around his small glass of light brown whiskey, he’d embraced the thoughts warming his mind and body.     He’d ordered yet another drink and remembered loving how she’d looked when the moonlight kissed her skin. Those walks had been his favorite, even when they’d awakened their young son to show him the brilliance of the moon in the Kansas sky. They’d adored him, and sharing the moonlight with him had become a family tradition. Boone, Amanda, and Buck. He groaned quietly. They were a family no more.     “Buck.” He whispered the boy’s name as yet another wave of sadness clutched his heart. He reached for his leather wallet and pulled out a sketch Amanda had drawn of his son. The pain he felt was all too familiar.     What had he done to his boy? He wouldn’t allow himself the memory of the last time he’d seen him.  
                              YET TO FORGIVEA Story of Redemption
Buy it by CLICKING HERE.



About EMILY CLAIRE…
I live in Arlington, Texas, with my husband and four children. Loving them is my first priority. We homeschool two of our children, and my goodness, that’s quite an experience! 

After proofreading for friend and USA Today bestselling author Kirsten Osbourne, she said to me, “You're going to write a book.” It wasn't a question, it was a statement. “I don't write books. I proof them,” I countered. She proceeded to strongly encourage me to “just do it.” I’m so glad she did! What an adventure to write and share what’s in my heart and mind.
Why write? I considered what was important to me. I'm a Christian. I've struggled. I've received so much grace in my life and have learned a few things about changing and healing along the way. I love to laugh, but sometimes I cry. Life is about feeling and experiencing! I wanted to share it. But I certainly wasn't interested in writing about myself and I wanted to make it enjoyable.

REAL. LIFE. STORIES. My desire is to share "G" rated (“sweet”) stories about people facing the ups and downs that life throws at them. I prefer settings that reflect a simpler pace and lives with less chaos, but the solutions to life’s puzzles are remarkably the same whether they occurred in the 1800’s or in 2016.
I’m honored when I hear from my readers that they’ve laughed, or cried, or contemplated deeper meanings and have been touched by my words.
Besides writing, I enjoy proofreading for other authors. I also provide administrative support for a friend's therapy center for children with autism and other behavioral issues. I have children on the spectrum, so it’s a privilege to serve others in this area.
I’d love to hear from you! You can contact me on 
Facebook  ~  Email  ~  Website  ~  Amazon Author Page
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Wednesday Wonders: THE ZION TRAIL

Today's Wednesday Wonders features The Zion Trail by Marsha Ward.




About the book: On a hot summer day, young Elijah Marshall stops plowing to give a drink of water to two strangers and invite them to lunch with his family. His neighborly act sets in motion events that will drastically change his future.

The strangers share a new religion, which the family embraces. But the neighbors want no part of Mormons. Multiple acts of unkindness and starvation drive the Marshall family to flee to the Mormon city on the banks of the Mississippi River, Nauvoo.

Then the path of Elijah's life takes perilous detours, with twists and turns he never expected to make.

In a 19th century coming-of-age story ranging from Pennsylvania to the Great Salt Lake Valley, Elijah plunges into harrowing adventures filled with sorrow, danger, and romance.Excerpt:
I spent a nervous night under the wagon, anticipating my meeting with strangers. In truth, my family and I would be the interlopers, but that thought did not calm my anxiety. At last the dawn came, and with it, the Sabbath day. I ate the food Ma gave me, but it sat upon my stomach like a lump of rock: undigested and indigestible.

We left our camp nearly forty-five minutes before the appointed hour for the meeting, in case we should get lost. I had worked myself into quite an unsettled condition by the time I pulled the horses to a halt at the appointed street corner.

We had arrived in the center of the town. The streets were practically deserted, cloaked in an appropriate stillness for the Lord’s Day. However, I could see no building resembling a church.

“Are we there, Lije?” Mary Eliza called from the back of the wagon.

I groaned inwardly. She had asked that same question time and time again during our travels. I wondered how Pa stood her infantile questions.

“I’ll find out, Pumpkin.”

I looked from one building to the next, seeking to verify that we had come to the correct intersection in the city. Ma, who sat beside me on the wagon seat, looked as puzzled as I felt. She glanced at the paper in her hand, furrowed her brows, and nodded to me.

We were at the right location, but the directions we had been given had brought us to a saloon.

I stood and surveyed the four corners of the intersection. I was mistaken. I counted one, two, three, four saloons, each one firmly planted on its own corner.

“This cannot be correct,” I muttered, wrapping the lines around the brake handle. “I’ll go ask where the Mormon’s church house is to be found.” I vaulted to the ground and looked around for a friendly face I might approach for guidance.

A sandy-haired man dressed in his Sunday best, accompanied by a woman and four children, came into view from around a corner, walked past us, then stopped before the saloon closest to us. He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket.

Surely he wasn’t taking his family into that den of iniquity?

Sure enough, he unlocked the door, opened it, and headed inside.

Perplexed by his actions, I looked for another avenue for enlightenment, but none was at hand. Needing information, I sidled toward the man and his family, who were filing after him through the doorway.

I caught up to him inside the saloon. “I beg your indulgence,” I said. “Might you give me directions?”

“Certainly, brother,” he replied, which I thought was a strange greeting.

“I’m looking for the Mormon edifice.”

“Edifice?”

Perhaps I hadn’t imagined a grand enough structure. I tried again. “Cathedral?”

“Oh, you’re looking for their meeting place.”

“Yes, I—”

“You’ve found it, lad.”

“What? Here?” I looked around the bar room in confusion. A depiction of a wanton woman hanging behind the bar caused me to blush.

The man chuckled as the woman I presumed to be his wife handed him a covered basket. “Yes. We have no building of our own, so we rent the saloon. It’s closed on Sundays, you know.”

“You’re a Mormon?”

“Indeed, I am.” He stuck out his hand and grasped mine. “Ralph Peters, at your service. I’m the branch president here.”

“Branch president?” I shook his hand, wondering what the words signified.

He must have guessed at my confusion. “I’m the local leader. Are you of our faith?”

“Newly baptized,” I told him, and pointed toward the door. “My mother and my brother and sister are outside. The elders said we were to come here to meetings.”

He nodded and placed the basket upon the bar. As he took off his hat and coat and began to roll up his shirtsleeves, I shifted my gaze sideways at the bottles lined up behind the bar and noticed that a piece of cloth had been draped over the painting, thankfully covering the nakedness of the soiled woman.

I looked further around the room. A young man of about my age and his younger brother were engaged in stacking the tables in a corner. Bright red hair peeked out from under their caps. A girl nudged a chair into a row. Her braids were not red, but a pleasing yellow color.

Evidently ready to engage in more conversation, Mr. Peters said, “When they last stopped by, Elders Caldwell and Long mentioned they had made converts of several families out in the county. Did your father not come?”

“He’s laid up with injury,” I said. “My older sister is tending to him. He thought it important that we come.”

“And rightly so,” Mr. Peters said. “Saints must gather together for strength, particularly hereabouts.”

Remembering my manners, I gave my name, and that of my mother and siblings.

“Well now, young Brother Marshall, bring in your family and help us make the place decent. We’ll begin on the hour.”Endorsements:
“Once again, Marsha Ward has woven an exciting historical novel. Elijah Marshall's adventures, trials, and faith building experiences as he journeys on The Zion Trail will keep readers turning pages until the end!”
~Loralee Evans, author of The Shores of Bountiful, and other novels.

“Marsha Ward's genius rises to her highest peak in The Zion Trail, with spot-on period terminology and meticulous attention to detail. It pulled me back to that time when my fourth-great-grandfather converted to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and took that Zion trail, and beyond.”
~Debra Erfert, author of Window of Time, Changes of the Heart, It Takes a Sleuth, and Relative Evil.

“Marsha Ward has long been one of my favorite Western authors. She is a masterful storyteller who paints a picture so vivid, I feel as though I'm peeking back in time and catching a glimpse of life a hundred years before I was born. I highly recommend The Zion Trail.”
~Amelia C. Adams, author of the Kansas Crossroads series.

“A wonderful book with heartwarming characters. I enjoyed every moment of it.”
~Rebecca Shelley, author of the Dragonbound series.

“From an unexpected beginning in Pennsylvania, Elijah Marshall travels through heartbreak to claim his purpose in life. While the story illustrates the early history of the LDS church, the message is one of personal triumph through perseverance, culminating in a most satisfying resolution you won’t want to end.”
~Carolyn Steele, author of Soda Springs and Willow Springs.

Author Bio: Amazon best-selling author Marsha Ward writes authentic historical fiction set in 19th Century America, and contemporary romance. She was born in the sleepy little town of Phoenix, Arizona, in a simpler time. With plenty of room to roam among the chickens and citrus trees, Marsha enjoyed playing with neighborhood chums, but always had her imaginary friend, cowboy Johnny Rigger Prescott, at her side. Now she makes her home in a forest in the mountains of Arizona. She loves to hear from her readers.

Ebook Buy Links:Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble  |  Smashwords  |  Kobo  |  Apple iTunes

Connect with Marsha:
Website  |  Blog  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |   Amazon Author Page
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He sets in motion events that will drastically change his future. THE ZION TRAIL @MarshaWard bit.ly/1RKBwm2 #RobynEcholsBooks 

Wednesday Wonders: BY THE STARS

Today's Wednesday Wonders features By the Stars by Lindsay Ferguson.  
About the book:
Deep in the alcoves of 93-year-old Cal Morgan’s mind is an unexpected and intriguing past. Recollections of growing up a farm boy during the Great Depression, learning to foxtrot in the largest ballroom in America, and serving as an infantry soldier in World War II are fragments of his memories. But perhaps above all, a once in a lifetime love story is seared in his soul, reminding us that some things in life are meant to be.
When Cal finally gets a chance with In the suffocating jungles of the Philippines Cal encounters the chilling life of a soldier and deadly battles of war. But with Kate’s memory always near and willing him on he puts his trust in God, ultimately driven to return to her. Inspired by a true story, By the Starsshows that love, faith, and perseverance can overcome insurmountable obstacles.
   My Book Review:
What a delightful romance, and a testament that good things come to even ordinary people. Cal was not considered among the popular crowd. He missed out on a lot of frivolous fun because of his long hours spent working on the family farm, a mundane but essential family business. That put him out of the path of the popular social group. Kate, a girl he meets and befriends when she is assigned a school locker next to his, soon goes on with her life as if Cal doesn’t exist. He admires from afar, but does not believe he can compete with the popular guys in Kate’s social circle.

I loved the way the characters were written. Cal was an ordinary guy, not flashy, but a young man who did his duty to both his church and his country. Even though he loses contact with Kate several times during his young life, he never completely forgets her. Occasional chance meetings throw them together often enough to keep his interest in her alive. Kate is a delightful young woman, but disappointed in her expectations. As much as she enjoys socializing and having fun, she decides to follow a path that excluded marriage and family—probably the only reason she was still single in the short period of time between Cal’s mission and his military service in World War Two.
I think my favorite part in the entire story was when he visits family at church after being gone three years. He is late for the meeting, and sees one seat open halfway down the chapel. Just as he reaches that spot and prepares to ask the person sitting next to it if it is available, the young woman turns to face him. It is Kate. At that moment, the lyrics of the opening hymn, “…Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,…” is sung and resonates through him. But, it didn’t with Kate. She agrees to go dancing with Cal, but not to enter into a romance with him.
Once again, after only a few weeks at home, Cal is inducted into the Army as an infantryman where he will eventually be sent to the Philippines, a duty that would lead to years of difficulty for him. He left expecting never to see Kate again. What happened while he was in training had me raising an eyebrow. The incident is based on a true story, but I’m pretty sure it could never happen in today’s world.
The romance is clean and proper. The story was uplifting. I could identify with Kate’s feelings and got a chuckle out of some of her antics. I also could not help but admire Cal as proof that quiet, dependable men who work hard and do their duty are sometimes the best heroes of all.
About the author:
LINDSAY FERGUSON has been immersing herself in stories since her childhood days of sneaking a flashlight into her room and staying up reading The Babysitters Club series way past her bedtime, writing spinoffs of The Twelve Dancing Princesses, and imagining herself in fascinating, far-off places. She still dreams of traveling the world one day, and finds getting lost in a good book almost as absorbing as penning her own stories and experiencing them unfold. A Communication graduate from the University of Utah, she worked as a PR and marketing writer for a computer software company for several years before resigning to focus on raising her family. She has also contributed lifestyle articles to various media outlets. When she felt the itch to attempt novel writing a fascination with history created a natural inclination toward historical fiction, with a romantic flare, of course. She lives in a suburb of Salt Lake City with her husband and four children. By the Starsis her first novel.
You may purchase By the Stars at the following:
Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble  |  Books & things  |  Deseret Books 
Connect with Lindsay Ferguson:

Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads  | 
Please tweet this blog post:Some things in life are meant to be. BY THE STARS @lb_ferguson http://bit.ly/24PU7qs #RobynEcholsBooks

Wednesday Wonders: IT'S CALLED FENG SHUI

This week's Wednesday Wonders features It's Called Feng Shui by Kathy Bosman     About the book :  Renni has burned out from being on tour as the drummer of ‘Eat Your Words.’ When she visits Nolan’s spa at Block Island for a day, she impulsively applies for a position as the assistant massage therapist as a means to drop out of tour.
Nolan is taken aback by the woman in his office with pitch black hair and body piercings. He can’t imagine her working in his spa, but her persistence fascinates him so he gives her the job — on one condition — she gets rids of the excess piercings.
The attraction between Nolan and Renni is immediate despite being opposite personalities. Renni’s fresh energy and charm draws Nolan as does his intensity attract her. Finding they have a lot more in common than expected, they fall in love, but Nolan has a secret and Renni carries baggage from past hurt. Will they focus on their differences or the things that draw them close?
Watch the Trailer: Click HERE .
Excerpt: 
The resort reception area was almost a clone of the one in the spa, yet with three indoor plants and a fountain instead of a large fish tank. Palms were potted in large urns sculpted like Greek columns. Minimalist was a good word for the décor — simple blues, silver, and white — peaceful colors and clean lines. Renni didn’t have much time to consider the connection she made with Feng Shui and Mr. Richie’s comment to her earlier, because he was the one behind the reception desk. Bracing herself for his usual glare, she walked up to him and smiled.“Don’t you take a break?” She rested her hands on the counter. Close up, he was austere but also uncomfortably handsome. Maybe his austere manner added to the handsome, almost unapproachable feel he gave her, like a demi-god one had to pay homage to in order to gain his approval.A laugh wanted to bubble out of her at the image. Somehow, he didn’t intimidate her as much as Peggy made out he should. She liked his cold exterior, because she knew it hid something brewing and bubbling beneath the surface. At the moment he was the perfect antithesis to the flirty Curtis. Maybe he was one of the many treasures Block Island enticed to be discovered. Also, she loved that he didn’t idolize her like other men did. He couldn’t care less if her band had won an American Music Award for Favorite Rock Band or reached the top of the charts.“Your hair’s still black.”“Donna did a good job, didn’t she?”“At least it’s not as black.”She laughed and then took a breath. The exhaustion of the last few months still wanted to take away her laughter and her oxygen. It weighed heavy on her, and she suddenly didn’t feel like fighting with her new boss.“I’d like a room, please.”“We only have one available. We’re fully booked.”“I’ll take it.”He froze for a moment, his eyes large, and then he put on a professional smile. “It’s next to the penthouse suite on the top floor.”“Um…do you live here?”“In the penthouse suite.”Figures. The man doesn’t fancy being near to me. Too bad. I need to rest. For a long time.“How much?”He gave her a figure. Oh well, her savings would be seriously reduced. She sincerely hoped she would soon find a rental home on the island.“But it’s in terrible disrepair. I haven’t allowed anyone in there for months it’s in such a bad state. So, I won’t charge you anything to stay there.”“Oh, thanks.”He grunted. “You probably won’t say thanks when you see it. I’ll fix it up for you.”“You don’t have to.”“I should.” He focused on a computer screen and input something with lightning-fast finger-work.Okay, maybe Peggy was right. He did have good inside. Buried deep inside.“You’re very kind.”He jerked his head up and stared at her, his mouth gaping.“How come you haven’t removed the metal yet?” The mouth transformed to a thin line immediately.“Um…I want to do it in front of a mirror in private, if you don’t mind. The room does have a mirror?”Was that a blush? “I’m not sure. I’ll have to check.”“May I have the keys?”He unlocked a panel on the wall and removed a key from a hook. When he put the key in her hand, tingles ran up her arm. Whoa! She hadn’t felt that way with anyone the last few years except for Curtis. Curtis! Did she have to think of him?

Author Bio:

Kathy loves reading and writing even more. She homeschools her three kids, so in between unsuccessfully explaining the difference between subject and predicate or how to divide fractions, she enters an imaginary world of troubled and passionate characters whose stories take over the page. Kathy lives in Kwazulu Natal, South Africa, where the summers are hot, the winters cool, and bugs thrive. Her first published novel, Wedding Gown Girl, came out in 2012 with Astraea Press (Clean Reads). She belongs to the Romance Writers of South Africa Group (ROSA) which has been her greatest support and inspiration the last few years.  Buy Links:
Amazon  |  Barnes & Noble  |   Smashwords  |  Kobo  |  Scribd
Connect with Kathy:
Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads  |  Pinterest  |
YouTube  |  Amazon Author Page  |  Newsletter Subscription Tweet this blog Post:What if opposites were really soulmates in disguise? IT'S CALLED FENG SHUI @KathleenLBosman bit.ly/1ONT3rl #WedWonders  
      

Wednesday Wonders: THREE PLUS THREE

Today's Wednesday Wonders features the story Three Plus Three  by Cindy Flores Martinez in the Valentine Pets & Kisses collection.
Book Description:

Make your Valentine's Day tail-wagging and purr-fect with 14 brand-new romances from award-winning and bestselling authors! (When it comes to stories involving our four-legged pets, one day a year to share tales of love isn’t enough.) Today we feature story #14:
Three Plus Three - Cindy Flores Martinez

A grieving widow and her beloved doggie meet a handsome widower the day before Valentine's Day.



Excerpt:
She scooped Cookie up in her arms, but before she could get a firm grip, the eager dog jumped out of her grasp and darted down the sidewalk toward the ocean. Violet was stunned, too stunned to move for the first few seconds.She watched, agape, as Cookie descended on Ocean Avenue, a small two-lane road that lay between Main Street and the beach. Traffic was heavy on that street. Although the cars moved slowly, they were still a crescendo of hot, shiny metal and rolling wheels. They were no match for a dog, especially one as small as hers."Cookie!" Violet raced after her while passersby's watched. "My dog! Please stop her!"Several people tried to grab hold of Cookie, but she got away. She reached the curb, stepped off it, and dashed in front of the cars.Violet felt as if her heart leaped out of her chest.The sound of screeching tires filled the air as drivers slammed on their brakes.Cookie's body came within inches of the wheels on a minivan.A horrified scream escaped Violet's lips. She covered her eyes with her hands, unable to watch Cookie's horrible end. Her body tensed as she braced herself for what was about to come.When all remained quiet, she uncovered her eyes and glanced ahead. Cookie safely reached the other side of the street, hopping onto the sidewalk with her tiny back legs.A wave of relief swept over Violet at the sight. She lunged forward, and her high heels click-clacked on the ground as she chased after Cookie, crossing in front of the cars that were still stopped. "I'm sorry," she said to the drivers.Arriving at the other side of the road, she caught a glimpse of Cookie heading toward a cement ramp beside the pier. It led out to a parking lot where more cars might cross her path.Violet's heart began to race. "Somebody, please stop my dog!" She slipped out of her high heels and ran after Cookie in her bare feet.Seal Beach was much smaller than the other beaches in the area. A long pier cut through two narrow parking lots, which quickly met the sand. The water was just a few feet away. She could tell Cookie remembered how to get there and that she was determined to get there at whatever the cost.Violet darted down the ramp as fast as she could. By then, Cookie was dashing toward a small separation wall that shielded the parking lot from the sand. Thankfully, there were no moving cars in front of her, but Violet knew it wouldn't take long for Cookie to reach the water. She had loved playing in the ocean to no end, but Violet had always been there to watch her. The current on this beach was fierce, easily pulling anyone and anything underneath its clutches. Lately, there had been sharks and jelly fish swimming close to the shore because of the warmer-than-usual ocean temperatures.Horrible images flashed through Violet's mind of killer sea creatures lurking in shallow waters waiting to feast on pet dogs. At that moment, Violet decided she was never going to let Cookie out of the house again, ever.
  About the Author:

Cindy Flores Martinez writes sweet romantic comedy and inspirational romance in English and Spanish. The Spanish version of her debut novel, Mail-Order Groom, which is titled Novio Por Correo, has been an Amazon US and international Spanish romance bestseller. Cindy has an MFA in Creative Writing with an emphasis in Screenwriting. She has been a screenwriting instructor, screenplay consultant, script reader, and screenplay collaborator.


You may purchase Valentine Pets & Kisses which includes Three Plus Three by clicking HERE.

 
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Wednesday Wonders: COURTING CASSANDRY

Today's Wednesday Wonders features the medieval novel,  Courting Cassandry by Joyce DiPastena 
About the Book:

Is it too late for second chances when the girl you loved in your youth comes back into your life?

Gerolt de Warenne became guardian to a child-heiress named Cassandry when he was only nineteen-years old. As he watched her grow into a lovely young woman, he found himself falling in love with her, but Cassandry viewed him as an older brother. So, burying his feelings, he gave permission for her to marry another.

Twenty-four years later Gerolt and Cassandry meet again. With the loss of their respective spouses, Gerolt hopes to finally court Cassandry, but she desires to remain a widow. Instead, they agree to a betrothal of their children.

Matters become complicated as their friendship begins to evolve into the romance Gerolt has always wanted. But by the law of the medieval Church, Cassandry and Gerolt can’t marry if their children do. Can they find a way to be together? Or must they sacrifice their future for the love of their children?

"Courting Cassandry" is a “Hearts in Autumn” romance, medieval romances revolving around heroes and heroines “in the autumn of their years.” Because love isn’t only for the young!
Excerpt:


Cassandry sniffed dismissively. “Boyhood mischief. You grew out of it. Samson did not.”
“I might not have. There was worse ‘mischief’ as I grew older. Gambling and drinking. We had begun to walk a dangerous road together, Sam and I. Do you know what stopped me?”
She shook her head, grappling with the implausible portrait he had drawn.
“You.” Gerolt turned his head to meet her shocked gaze. “Had my father not died and left you in my care, I might have remained as reckless and undisciplined as Sam. But suddenly I was responsible for raising a nine-year-old girl, and I knew I could not do so if I drank away my days in a tavern. You were still grieving for your parents. Even after a year in my father’s wardship, you still carried that lost, lonely look in your eyes. The day after I buried my father, I vowed I would find a way to make you smile, to win your trust, to raise you to be as fine a lady as my mother had been. I did not have a notion how to do any of it, but there was something about you that made me determined to try. It was not easy. I made a great many mistakes.”
“I do not recall a one,” she protested.
He grinned. “You were small, and, as you said yourself, age has dulled your memory.”
She swatted playfully at his shoulder. “It is not that dull.”
He laughed, sending up another scolding from Jenny Wren. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling silence until the bird settled back down. By then Gerolt had grown sober again. He straightened, folding up his stretched out legs.
“I hoped fatherhood would steady Sam, as caring for you did me. But instead he went off on that wretched crusade.”
“What, so now I was a daughter to you? Or did raising me merely make you feel ancient?”
That brought the twinkle back to his gray eyes, but another expression lurked behind it, something warm but cautious. “And what was I to you? A brother?”
Her breath caught a little. “Yes . . . then.”
The twinkle faded at the little pause between her words, but if anything, his eyes grew brighter. “And now?”
She did not answer, but neither could she pull her gaze away from his. Not until he shifted his position and his face slowly drifted ever so close to her own. Then her lashes brushed against her cheeks as she closed her eyes and waited for his hand to tenderly touch her face, his breath to brush her lips . . .

About Joyce DiPastena:   Joyce DiPastena dreamed of green medieval forests while growing up in the dusty copper mining town of Kearny, Arizona. She filled her medieval hunger by reading the books of Thomas B. Costain (where she fell in love with King Henry II of England), and later by attending the University of Arizona where she graduated with a degree in history, specializing in the Middle Ages. The university was also where she completed her first full-length novel…set, of course, in medieval England. Later, her fascination with Henry II led her to expand her research horizons to the far reaches of his “Angevin Empire” in France, which became the setting of her first published novel, Loyalty’s Web (a 2007 Whitney Award Finalist). Joyce is a multi-published, multi-award winning author who specializes in sweet medieval romances heavily spiced with mystery and adventure. She lives with her two cats, Clio and Glinka Rimsky-Korsokov, in Mesa, Arizona.
Purchase Links:


Amazon          Barnes & Noble          iBooks            Kobo        
Author Links: 
Website          Author Blog         Medieval Research with Joyce

Facebook          Twitter: @JoyceDiPastena          Pinterest Board for book


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Wednesday Wonders: THE SPIDER AND THE SPARROW

Today’s Wednesday Wonders features the World War One adventure novel, The Spider and the Sparrow , by A. L. Sowards.
Book Description:
May 1915. After tragedy strikes during the Second Battle of Artois, Frenchman Julian Olivier will do anything to get out of the trenches. So when British Intelligence recruits him to spy behind enemy lines, he jumps at the opportunity. Just before he begins, however, he has a chance encounter with a young French woman who leaves his heart marked for the remainder of the war—even if he doesn’t know her name.


Warren Flynn is a Canadian airborne hero, and dogfights with the Germans are all in a day’s work. Second only to his love of flying is his fascination with Claire Donovan, the daughter of an American munitions manufacturer living in Paris. Warren flies Julian into Germany and soon receives orders to post the Allies’ newest operative—an attractive peasant woman named Evette—in Claire’s home.

As a dangerous ring of spies and saboteurs threatens to turn the war against the Allies, Julian discovers goodness in his enemies’ hearts. But even if he survives, will he ever be reunited with the woman whose memory he can’t erase? Will Warren survive the war, and will Evette unearth the infiltrator in her own territory before it’s too late?

Book Excerpt:
French trenches - WWI
The sky rained water droplets and artillery shell fragments through the loud, misty morning. The water left puddles under the duckboards at the bottom of the French trenches and turned Julian Olivier’s horizon-blue uniform into a muddy mess. The artillery, most of it fired from French 75mm Soixante-Quinze guns, landed largely on the Germans, and thus troubled Julian little.Amid the shrill whines and distant booms of the guns, Julian huddled under a rain block fashioned from broken rifles and a tattered greatcoat. Water dripped from the edges and leaked through in three spots along the center, but the shelter was sufficient to protect his paper from rain damage as he finished a letter to his parents.Spring has skipped the trenches. I don’t suppose it can compete with the artillery. Has spring come to Calais? I miss the blossoming trees and the new green grass filling the meadows. Is the Channel clear? When I picture home, I imagine the harbor full of shipping from England. We’ll take all the men, horses, and ammunition they can send. I wish I was home to help with the extra work this time of year always brings, yet I am also glad to sacrifice for France. Our existence here is rough, but Lieutenant Roux tells us we will be relieved within the week. I would do much for a bath and a real bed. Mother, you would be horrified by how filthy I look and smell, but since everyone else has been unwashed just as long, we grow used to it.Julian paused, his pen hovering above the paper. He decided to spare his mother the description of trench rats. She despised rodents, and he didn’t want her to worry. Maybe he’d already said too much in complaining about the smell, but the scent of unwashed men was minor compared to the stench of decomposing bodies. He scratched the hair on the back of his neck. When washed, it was chestnut brown, but for now it was like everything else: the color of mud. He decided to omit the mention of lice from his letter as well. Nor would he tell her about the German shells that frequently pounded his position, but his father would want to know about French weapons.Our current artillery barrage is strong, thus my friends predict we shall soon see action. I hope to make you proud when we drive the enemy from our soil.Today it rains, but I am well. Please pray for me, as I ever pray for you.Your loving son,JulianHe added the date to the top of the sheet: May 6, 1915. After the ink dried, Julian folded the letter and stuck it in his breast pocket for safekeeping. He would post it tomorrow after he’d had time to reread it and make sure he hadn’t said anything he wasn’t allowed to discuss. During their last period away from the line, he’d written that the cramped barn they were stationed in was covered in more manure than straw. A censor had refused to mail the letter and had given Julian extra work duty as punishment for his complaint.He left the shelter and stepped into the rain, climbing onto the firing step next to his friend to peer through a hole in the sandbagged breastwork across no man’s land. How long before they’d be asked to go over the top? And when they went, what would they find, other than more mud and bullets? “They’re awfully quiet over there.” Maximo Durand turned fro
Author Bio:


A.L. Sowards grew up in Moses Lake, Washington, then came to Utah to attend BYU and ended up staying. Now she’s a busy mom with young kids, but she does her best to squeeze writing time in between naptime, stroller rides, and homework sessions. She enjoys reading, writing, learning about history, and eating chocolate, sometimes all at once. As an author, she is known for heart-pounding action, memorable characters, careful historical research, clean romance, and family-friendly language. Prior to The Spider and the Sparrow, Sowards wrote four novels set during the Second World War, including two Whitney Award finalists. This is her first novel set during the Great War, but she doubts it will be her last. 
Find A.L. Sowards online at:
ALSowards.com, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, or Goodreads.

Purchase Links:

Amazon  |   Deseret Books  |  Seagull Books

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Wednesday Wonders: BECKY'S KISS

Nicholas Fisher is a college professor and a sports enthusiast. He writes adult horror under another name, but thought of the idea for Becky’s Kiss while coaching his son’s baseball team. Since the story involved high school drama he decided to write his first young adult piece. When not writing or teaching, Nicholas Fisher enjoys pizza, reality television, and playing the banjo. He lives in Pennsylvania with his wife and his son goes to Arizona State University.

http://nicholasfisherbooks.weebly.com/

https://www.facebook.com/nicholasfisherbooks/

https://twitter.com/NicholasFisherA 

Synopsis:
Becky Michigan meets the boy of her dreams on her first day of ninth grade, a gorgeous blonde baseball player named Danny with crystal blue eyes, but no one else in the school ever heard of him. To make matters worse, Becky starts having dreams that she is the greatest pitcher on the planet, and when she throws an orange in the cafeteria at more than 90 miles per hour, she has some questions for the boy who keeps disappearing.

The stronger Becky’s feelings grow for Danny the faster she throws, and the faster she throws the less he shows up! Suddenly she is offered the opportunity to try out for the varsity baseball team, a shot at being popular for once, but does this mean she has to give up the hope of ever finding true love? All answers come to light out behind the high school at midnight, on an old overgrown ball field in the woods behind the real one, fifty feet off the third baseline. It is a magic field. One of dreams. Or possibly nightmares.


http://www.amazon.com/Beckys-Kiss-Nicholas-Fisher-ebook/dp/B016NGFXI8

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/beckys-kiss-nicholas-fisher/1122797722

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/becky-s-kiss

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Nicholas_Fisher_Becky_s_Kiss?id=2Vq4CgAAQBAJ&hl=en

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/585214

Ready for a snippet? There was only one place left to sit in the crowded cafeteria, at the empty table by the trash cans next to the concrete support beam that had a poster of Frederick Douglass on it. It was an old science desk at the edge of the walking aisle separating the two halves of the room, and one of its legs was broken at the base. The wobble-table.  For losers.One kid was sitting there, the Asian boy from English class. He had stuck his math book under the short leg, and was politely sipping soup, robotic and rigid, nothing else on his tray but a couple of pieces of fruit. Becky walked over, pulled out the chair across from him, and slipped off her backpack.“What’s your name?” she said.He was startled, but clearly glad he had a visitor.“Joe,” he said.  “Joey Chen.”  He smiled then, and even though he had funny teeth, the expression had an interesting effect, like craft-show glass, like sidewalk art. His eyes glinted.  “You,” he said, “are Becky Michigan.”She shrugged.“Are you new here?”He looked down at his soup.“I am from China. I been here one year, three months, eleven days.”Becky sighed. A whole year and he was eating lunch alone. And counting the days.“You like this great food?” she said.“No.”“Me neither.”“And I don’t like bullies,” he said. “This place is full of them.”
Becky sighed again, and then something hit her in the ear. The projectile rolled and wobbled across the table, settling at the far edge. It was a grape. A purple grape.Another one struck her right on the end of the nose, leaving a hint of moisture, making her blink stupidly, and yet another plinked off her forehead. So immature! Bullies, oh yes, Joey had a point now didn’t he? She pushed back her chair and looked over in the general direction of the assault. There, across the aisle and about eighteen rows down, was Cody Hatcher, the big kid who had been teasing her in English class, sitting at the edge of the table with what seemed to be four of his idiot friends, all of them laughing like hyenas, one stamping his foot he was so overcome with the hilarity of it all. Hatcher stopped and looked right at Becky. He reached in front of him and took a purple grape off the stem. He put it in his mouth and chewed real slow. Swallowed. Licked his top lip and winked. Then his friends were laughing again, slapping him on the back.Becky didn’t think, she just acted. Joe didn’t have time to move. In a flash, she reached across the table, knocked over his milk, grabbed his orange, and pivoted back, side-stepping into the aisle. She had a split second to look at her target, and Hatcher had his mouth open, all teeth, eyes up at the ceiling he was laughing so hard.
She kicked up a knee and spread her hands, throwing-arm dangling way low behind her. There was a moment of perfect balance there, and then her body became a machine: all hot fluid and angry levers. She stepped into it deep, cocked up her arm, snapped her hips, and fired.           The orange flew out of her hand as if on a clothesline. Even through the noise, she could hear it hiss through the air, and heads turned with it as if in slow motion. Hatcher had just enough time to adjust his eyes from the ceiling and focus on what was coming. It hit him square in the forehead with a hard splat and his hands flew up. It knocked him straight back out of his chair, and the fruit ruptured in a blast of spray and peel.
People roared. Gossip exploded, and Becky could hear a lot of “Did you see that?” and “Who is that girl?” and “What happened?” and “Did you see how freakin’ hard she chucked that?” Everything was echoing, sounding unreal, and the teachers on lunch duty were darting their eyes all around to pinpoint exactly where the disturbance was. Becky got back in her chair, and Joe had his mouth open.Becky was trying not to shake. “He had it coming,” she managed.Check out all the great blogs that are a part of this event by following along on the Facebook page.https://www.facebook.com/events/564215317070627/

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