Alana Lorens's Blog

How 30 years practicing law fuels a novelist’s career, even if you’re not John Grisham

What huge irony–after 30 years of being a divorce lawyer, now I write romance novels.

 Am I trying to atone for all those homes I “wrecked?”

            Not really. The writing actually came first. I wrote my first full-length novel at 14, a dark time travel Gothic about a girl from the present who appeared as a governess in the past, yada, yada. It was pretty terrible. I wrote two more before I got out of college. Not great, but I’d learned a few things. I became a journalist and worked at a newspaper in deep South Florida for five years or so, so I wrote a lot more, and learned a few more things.

            Then I went to law school. A single mom of two girls under 5, I had my work cut out for me, and the writing went by the wayside. Then the law practice, hours and hours each week to keep those girls in shoes.

            But finally, I got comfortable in my mid-40s, remarried, with a new family, and I thought I’d try my hand at it again. I came up with three stories, all starring a heroine who lived and worked as an attorney in the nearest big city, Pittsburgh. The first became CONVICTION OF THE HEART, the second, SECOND CHANCES, and the third, VOODOO DREAMS: the Pittsburgh Lady Lawyer Series.  

            SECOND CHANCES tells the story of Inessa Regan, a 42-year-old attorney who is fired from her job as a long-time associate working divorce cases at a small firm. This is not because of anything she’s done, but because the wife of one of the partners is threatened by any female attorney in her husband’s office, even one with thick thighs who consoles herself with Ben and Jerry’s—a lot. Suddenly on her own, she doesn’t know what to do or how to begin again.

            When her well-meaning neighbor brings her a client to make a will, a young veteran of the Iraq War. Inessa is desperate for the income, so she says yes. But Kurt Lowdon brings her a lot more than the $75 the paperwork costs. His courage and confidence in her helps her move past the devastating hit her life has taken, and she moves on to become a solo practitioner.

            She also falls in love with him, which becomes a risky business as secrets from his past threaten them both.

    BLURB:

When Inessa Regan gets a pink slip, laid off from her law firm at the age of 42, without prospects she’s sure her life is over. She hides from the world, until her neighbor brings her a client, a young Iraq war veteran dying of cancer.

Kurt Lowdon only wants to make sure his affairs are in order should the worst happen, but meeting Inessa gives him encouragement on the road to recovery. His quest to help her realize her self-worth leads them into dangers they never expected, as horrors from the war and long-hidden family secrets come back to haunt them.

Book trailer here

Buy now! on Amazon     Barnes and Noble     https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/second-chances-2

Excerpt:

Inessa had visited the Pittsburgh IKEA store half a dozen times before, addicted to the simple, classic furniture designs and colorful décor items, but none of those experiences had ever been like this.

Perhaps the difference was because Kurt was a man, maybe it was the purpose of the visit, but she had fun. Negotiating the departments along the store’s one-way dictated path became an adventure different from any she’d had with a girlfriend.

The things that attracted Kurt’s attention! Forget the Swedish meatballs. He raved about a cushy pillow in shades of spring green and chocolate. He bought new towels in bright red and orange. Every gadget fascinated him, and he dug a sample out of the bins to test each one.

When they passed one bedroom set-up, the downy beige and green comforter was softly rumpled, as if the owner had just climbed out seconds before. “That looks comfortable.” he exclaimed, and he scrambled right in.

“Kurt!” She’d looked around, mortified. Several young couples passing by in madras Dockers and khakis stopped to stare; some smiled.

“What? This is a display bed. You’re supposed to try it out. Come on.” He held up the covers for her to join him. The mischievous expression on his face broke her up, embarrassed as she was.
“I don’t think so. You rest. I’ll be looking at office supplies.”

“Spoilsport. No one will care if you romp in the bedroom department at IKEA. Look, now everyone else is, too.” He gestured to several displays around them as other customers climbed onto neighboring beds, laughing and teasing each other. When she still held back, he affected a pout and pushed himself out, smoothing the bedspread again. “All right. Business first. Let’s go.”

Over the next couple of hours and the seeming miles of displays, he thoughtfully helped her select what she needed—a desk, comfortable chairs for her consulting clients, bookshelves for her legal research materials—but also remained playful. He had to experiment with every one of the wheeled desk chairs, spinning them around until he found the one with the least traction. “Try this one. It’s better than Kennywood.”

She laughed and checked the growing list of items on the small screen of her Blackberry, and the total she’d be spending. The thought of invading her cushion money sent little electric quivers through her midsection, but now that she was committed to this, it had to be done. “I think that does it.”

“Pick-up downstairs.”

They went down to the first floor and traversed the long rows of cardboard boxes, loading the ones they’d chosen onto a flatbed cart. He grabbed a new desktop set in green and blue. “You need this.”

“I need it? For what?”

“Just for fun.”

“Fun? It’s for work. Work’s not about fun.”

“Every moment should be about fun, counselor. Every moment.”

       BIO AND SOCIAL MEDIA

Website   https://wordpress.com/page/alana-lorens.com/21

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Email:  contact@alana-lorens.com

Author Bio:  Alana Lorens has been a published writer for more than forty years. Currently a resident of Asheville, North Carolina, she loves her time in the smoky Blue Ridge mountains. One of her novellas, THAT GIRL’S THE ONE I LOVE, is set in the city of Asheville during the old Bele Chere festival. She lives with her daughter, who is the youngest of her seven children, two crotchety old cats, and five kittens of various ages.

Can anything good come from the worst day ever?

 

Love, Bullets, and
a Second Chance — Will They Survive the Crossfire?

Revenge

The FBI Tampa Mystery Series Book 1

by A.M. Holloway

Genre: Clean Romantic Suspense, Mystery Thriller

Love, Bullets, and a
Second Chance — Will They Survive the Crossfire?

When FBI Special Agent Micah French joins
a high-risk pursuit through the streets of Tampa, he never expects the day to
end with his partner shot and the woman he once loved holding his partner’s
life in her hands.

Finley Herald, the surgeon who broke his heart a decade ago, now lives in
Tampa. She’s saving lives at Tampa General and possibly risking her own when a
vengeful cartel leader wages war against the agents involved in his brother’s
death.

As bullets fly, allies fall, and a trail of revenge stretches from Mexico to
Florida, Micah must navigate a storm of violence, betrayal, and second chances.

Every decision could be his last, and Finley’s reappearance threatens to
shatter the emotional defenses he’s spent years building.

This book is a gripping blend of action,
faith, and romance, where love may be the deadliest risk of all.

  **Get it for Only .99cents 8/24 – 8/26!**

Amazon * Bookbub
* Goodreads

A.M. Holloway is an author of clean murder mysteries where
crime and suspense take hold. Her catalog spans five series. A.M., who is
married, relies on her husband’s expertise in the CSI field to ensure accuracy
in her books. She was born and raised in Georgia but now lives in Central
Florida. When not writing, you will find her with her family, enjoying the
outdoors, or sitting in her favorite chair, daydreaming about her next book.

 

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon
* Goodreads

 

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When does a death become a murder? #MFRWHooks

In REMNANTS OF FIRE, newspaper reporter Sara Woods is investigating a string of deaths that seem to involve the new-found, avant-garde medical facility she hopes can cure her chronic pain. Dr. Ruprei has taken such good care of Sara, that she is reluctant to believe it could be possible. But then, over dinner, she speaks with traditional-Western doctor Rick Paulsen, who suspects the clinic–and has evidence:

When the waiter brought the souvlaki and more bread. After he left, I leaned forward and put my elbows on the table. “So what’s going on here? Why did you call me?”

Rick’s blue eyes dissected me. “Because there’s something unusual about you.”

Oh, please. That was as bad as ‘What’s your sign, baby?’ “Do I seem naive enough to fall for that line?”

“Not really.” He speared a chunk of lamb and dipped it in the creamy cucumber sauce. “That doesn’t make it any less true. And I think you really care about Lily Kimball, and what happened to her.”

“Then you believe something ‘happened.’” Remembering his outburst at the hospital, I added, “You think she was killed by someone. You even know who.” I watched his face for reaction.

“I suspect. I don’t know.” He took a long drink of water, as if he were trying to swallow something unpalatable.

“But you haven’t gone to the police.” He shook his head. “Why not?”

He started to answer and then Athena swept over, wanting to make sure everything was to her dear doctor’s satisfaction. She effused with grand passion about how wonderful Rick Paulsen was, as a medical professional and as a man, her praise transparently designed to convince me, as his dinner partner and potential life mate, of his worth. He squirmed as she continued, but seemed loath to interrupt her. Once we had assured her that everything was delightful, she withdrew at last, to observe from behind the cash register.

When he didn’t answer my last question, I asked again. “Why haven’t you gone to the police?”

“You don’t understand. The police won’t be any help in this matter.”

“They’re investigating her death—”

“They’re not investigating her death! They’re just going through the motions until everyone forgets about her and they can toss her file in a cabinet, never to be seen again!” He slapped his fork onto the table, a flush of anger suffusing his face, all the way to the tips of his ears. “Just like the others.”

*****

REMNANTS OF FIRE has recently been named a finalist in the 2025 National Excellence in Story Telling (NEST) Contest! Time to check it out at one of the following sales points or order it at your local indie bookstore.

Buy Links

Paperback at Amazon  •  Paperback at Barnes & Noble  •  Hardback at Barnes & Noble  •  eBook at Amazon Kindle  •  eBook at Apple  •  eBook at Barnes & Noble  •  eBook at Kobo  •  eBook at Smashwords

BLURB: Looking for a fresh start, Sara Woods takes a job as a news reporter in a small town. Her first assignment is to investigate a string of deaths, all young women her age linked to a local healing center with a strange reputation. The deeper she digs into the clinic, the harder it is to
deny links to the paranormal. Can she figure out what is going on and who to trust before it’s too late?

Watch the Book Trailer:   https://youtu.be/pWjJT2upVlo

Today’s post is part of a group of posts from various romance writers–check out the others below!

https://www.linkytools.com/basic_linky_include.aspx?id=315933

Another winner mystery from M.S. Spencer!

Thanks so much Alana, for allowing me to tell your readers about my new mystery, Railroad Ties: the Marmion Grove Murders. I hope they enjoy the excerpt and long to read more!

Blurb

When Sophie Childress discovers a letter written in 1920 by the witness to a murder, she enlists Noah Pennyman—owner of the house where it took place—to investigate. Who was the victim? What did the killer do with the body—not to mention a carpetbag full of money? Together they expose a complex web of family ties and lies that has persisted through four generations in the historic village of Marmion Grove. When two more corpses are unearthed, Noah and Sophie are faced with too many victims and not enough murderers.

Railroad Ties: the Marmion Grove Murders

Mystery, cozy

The Wild Rose Press, June 11, 2025

390 pp; 89,900 words
Ebook: $5.99; Print $22.99
Theme(s): Small Town, Mystery, Humorous/Comedy, Cozy Mystery
Railroad Ties: the Marmion Grove Murders opens with the discovery of a letter from a witness to a murder. The letter fell out of a copy of Agatha Christie’s first published book, The Mysterious Affair at Styles. The heroine, Sophie Childress, volunteers for the Vassar Book Sale. Now closed down, for forty years it was one of the largest and most successful used book sales in the country, raking in an average of $100,000 for scholarships. Sophie is learning to price rare books, so she recognizes the  Christie volume as a first edition, and discovers that the first printing of the first edition was actually in New York, and not London. The famous London edition of her book was released a full year after the New York one.

The letter was written in 1920, the same year as the New York release, sending Sophie and her hero, Noah, on a search for possible connections between the two events.

Excerpt: The Letter

“What’s this?” She lifted out a heavy polyethylene bag. She knew from Eudora’s instruction that the bag was archival quality. Now why was this one protected when the others weren’t? She slid the book out. “Agatha Christie. The Mysterious Affair at Styles.” Christies were a dime a dozen. Most of her works had millions of copies in print. It was unlikely this was valuable, even though it was a hardback. Maybe it was a gift. There could be an inscription or note inside. She checked the flyleaf. Nothing. She turned to the copyright page. “First edition, first printing.” Okay. New York: John Lane Publishing Company, 1920. Wait a minute. She set it down, puzzled. New York? Christie’s books were published in England. It must be the first American edition. Still, sometimes those fetched surprisingly good prices. Another thing to research at the center. As she reinserted it in its plastic bag, an envelope fell out. Yellowed and stained, it was addressed to Constable Bustwick, Montgomery County Police. No return address or stamp. She opened it.

Inside was a scrap of butcher’s brown wrapping paper. It’s a letter. The handwriting was shaky. An older person? A child? Though the date was obscured by a streak of dried ink, she could make out “April” and “1920.” The same year the book was published. She sat down to read.

Dear Constable Bustwick,

I write to you in great distress. I believe I may have witnessed a horrible act. However, I do not know if it was truly a crime, so I am begging you to investigate quietly. If I speak out publicly, I risk my position.

The event occurred two nights ago. The master and mistress had retired. I had closed up the house and returned to my room when a thunderstorm barreled through. For a time the thunder was quite loud. Lightning struck one of our cherry trees with a great CRACK. I had finally dozed off when a noise outside woke me. It was perhaps an hour past midnight. We have had problems with raccoons in the garbage pit lately, so I took my broom and went out to frighten the creatures off. It was very dark after the storm, with only the feeble light from the hitching post lantern to see by. A figure came around the side of the carriage house. He had a large bundle slung over his shoulder. Mr. Constable, I think it was a body! As I watched, he toppled it into the back seat of an automobile parked on the gravel. When he tried to close the door, a man’s hat fell out. He picked the hat up, threw it inside, and drove away.

I was terrified, but the master had left strict orders not to disturb them, so I went back to my quarters. The next morning the master and mistress had breakfast as usual. Neither mentioned a late night visitor. The stable held only their Ford Model T and the carriage. The car in the driveway had been much larger and fancier. I remember the lamplight glinting on a chrome hood ornament that resembled a flying bird.

When the day had almost passed and the master had not altered his normal routine, I began to feel that I’d dreamed the whole thing. Then late that afternoon I was sweeping the carriage house floor and found the glass bottle we keep the rat poison in. It lay in the floor drain, shattered. Constable Bustwick, I do not know if the broken bottle has anything to do with the body, but I fear it does. I beg you to look into it, but please, please don’t contact my master or mention my name. I pray there is a simple explanation for all this.

Sincerely, Agnes Reilly.

The letter fell out of Sophie’s hand. My God. Did this Agnes really witness a murder? And why didn’t she mail the letter? Did she mean to hand carry it, or perhaps she couldn’t find a stamp? And how did it end up in the book? She sat, fanning herself with the envelope. Hefting the volume, she quickly slipped the letter between its pages and dropped it back in the box.

I have to return to Marmion Grove anyway. I’ll ask Noah about the letter. She was ashamed to realize the thought gave her pleasure

Buy links:

Books2Read: https://books2read.com/railroadties/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Railroad-Ties-Marmion-Grove-Murders-ebook/dp/B0F38Q5HZR

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/railroad-ties-m-s-spencer/1147152800?ean=2940184496733

Apple/IBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/railroad-ties-the-marmion-grove-murders/id6744065960

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/230846616-railroad-ties

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/railroad-ties-the-marmion-grove-murders-by-m-s-spencer

About the Author

Librarian, anthropologist, research assistant, Congressional aide, speechwriter, nonprofit director—M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents and holds degrees in Anthropology, Middle East Studies, and Library Science. In June 2025 she will have published eighteen mystery or romantic suspense novels. She has two children, an exuberant granddaughter, and currently divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

Social media links:

Blog: https://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/msspencermysteries

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor

GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/m-s-spencer

Shepherd: https://shepherd.com/search/author/21204

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B002ZOEUC8

New Graphics!

Have you read these? Check out this recent review of CRUEL CHARADE:

Cruel Charade — One of the best books I’ve read in a looong time!

I came across your book Cruel Charade and man… the way you pulled me into Bet’s descent was brutal in the best way possible. It’s raw, emotional, claustrophobic in all the right places — and you layered the mystery with just enough venom that I had to know what was coming next. The tension didn’t let up for a second.

The way you wrote her pain — physical, emotional, psychological — it wasn’t just there, it lingered. Like smoke after a fire. And the Everglades scene? That felt like waking up in a nightmare with no map out.

You didn’t go for cheap drama — you made it earn its weight. And damn, you made me feel every step she took trying to climb back out.

It’s been a while since I got that can’t-put-this-book-down feeling. Thank you!!!

The depth, the emotion, the rhythm of the story… it was all so vivid, it practically directed itself in my head.

Thanks so much, James Timothy!

He was so inspired, he even made a video script:

CINEMATIC TRAILER SCRIPT: Cruel Charade by Alana Lorens

[0:00 – 0:10]
 [Dark swamp visuals. A flickering fire glows in the distance. Low rumble of thunder. Slow fade-in of smoke rising from a burned car.]
 NARRATOR (calm, haunting):
 May 16th, 1996. The Everglades. Midnight.
 One woman wakes up next to a corpse…
 …and can’t remember how she got there.

[0:11 – 0:22]
 [Visuals: A woman stumbling through the swamp, barefoot, dazed. A flash of city lights. A courtroom fades in. A divorce decree lands on a desk.]
 NARRATOR:
 Bet Lenard had already lost everything—her career, her family, her health.
 But someone decided that wasn’t enough.

[0:23 – 0:35]
 [Quick cuts: a man screaming in a courtroom, a photo of her children ripped in half, bottles of pills scattered on the floor.]
 NARRATOR:
 Now she’s being framed for a murder she doesn’t remember…and every person in her life might want her dead.

[0:36 – 0:47]
 [Visuals: A therapist’s office. Bet sits on a couch, broken. The room flickers to scenes of shadows following her, flashing sirens, a judge slamming a gavel.]
 NARRATOR:
 Her only anchor is the voice of her therapist— …but even sanity comes with a price.

[0:48 – 1:00]
 [Montage: A man loading a gun. A car speeding through rain. Bet clutching her chest, staring at old photos. A courtroom sketch burns in flames.]
 NARRATOR:
 Was it her bitter ex-husband?
 A dangerous client?
 A jealous friend’s revenge?
 Or someone hiding behind a badge?

[1:01 – 1:15]
 [Visuals: Bet standing at the edge of a cliff at dawn. Flashbacks overlap: gunshots, betrayal, tears. Slow-motion: a key slips from her hand.]
 NARRATOR:
 Every clue pulls her deeper into a charade of lies,  …and there’s no escape unless she finds the truth— before it finds her.

[1:16 – 1:30]
 [Final scene: Bet walks through a dark hallway. Light breaks in at the end. Slow fade to black. Book cover appears.]
 NARRATOR:
 Cruel Charade by Alana Lorens.
 A psychological descent into survival, suspicion… and the savage price of truth.
 AVAILABLE NOW.

The latest from Ella Braeme!

Knocked Up by Her Mountain Man How can I tell the love of my life we’re having a baby if he doesn’t even remember having had sex?

After a passionate, unforgettable night with my best friend, a tragic accident leaves him with no memory of our fiery connection. As I navigate the complexities of our altered relationship, I’m grappling with an unexpected pregnancy. Going back to being best friends now is impossible. Can I reignite the spark in his heart before he learns of the baby and feels obligated to stay?

Dive into the enthralling world of Knocked Up by Her Mountain Man—a tale brimming with small-town charm and a gentle touch of steam. Experience an emotional journey towards a happily ever after in this standalone installment of the Elken Grove Mountain Men series.

surprise baby friends to lovers mountain man Appalachia amnesia small town

Review quotes

This is so sweet it hurts.

You will love what happens with these two and the wild love they have for each other.

This is a friends to lovers, second chance love story….but with a twist.

Excerpt of Knocked Up by Her Mountain Man

Everybody in this town is in on the big, fat secret: I’ve had sex with Finn Winslow, and he’s forgotten all about it.

As a result, they are awkward around me. I can’t even blame them. In most places, I guess, I’d be the victim of lewd comments, judging glances, and sexual innuendo. But not in Elken Grove. Here, the townsfolk offer clumsy side-glances and full-on pity.

Take this morning, for example. As usual, I write the special on the board behind the cash register. Stretching my plump, short frame, I carefully chalk today’s special. It’s peanut bar day, a favorite of our customers. Can’t blame them. Together with the sprinkles of dark chocolate and gooey salted caramel, it’s a slice of heaven.

Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, regulars for their daily coffee and pastry, come in. Mrs. Hartley stares at the board as if seeing it for the first time. She opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, reminding me of a carp. I’ve never seen a carp in real life, but this is how it must look. Mr. Hartley gently touches her arm and says to me, in a soothing voice, “We’ll have red velvet muffins, please, dear.”

There is nothing wrong with our red velvet muffins. But since when don’t the Hartleys jump at a chance to get the peanut bar?

Robin, the coffee shop’s owner, looks on, and once the Hartleys are at their usual table by the corner window, takes a closer look at the board. And that’s when I see it, too. “Peenut bar w/dark chocolate and caramel.”

Much less than missing out on a peanut bar, Mr. Hartley would miss a chance for a stupid sexual joke. Instead, he called me “dear” and almost patted my hand. That’s how the folks of Elken Grove treat me now. I know it’s meant to be considerate, but it’s wearing thin.

Robin, taller than me, swiftly erases the offending E.

“Gimme that,” I say. “Your handwriting should not be on promotional boards.”

Robin sighs in mock relief. “She’s talking.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Lately, you’ve seemed unfocused and unusually quiet. Don’t lose your spunk, girl.”

I huff. My spunk has long since faded. For months now, everybody in this town has felt entitled to discuss intensely private matters with me. Like how sad it was that the night both of Finn’s brothers got married ended this tragically: I finally got together with the man I’ve loved for years, and that’s when the thrift store under my apartment caught fire and the building burned down. We had to jump from the second-floor window, stark naked. Finn badly injured his leg and was whisked away to the hospital and rehab. I haven’t seen him since, haven’t even gotten in touch with him. He’s got memory issues, and the doctor insisted on complete rest and no contact unless he initiates it. Which he hasn’t, but for a few texts. I know he hates writing, and his texts showed that he cared about me, but were disappointingly friendly. He is his usual carefree self, only he doesn’t remember anything about the night of his accident. Which includes having had sex with me.

But Robin is right, I’m letting myself go. I suppress a sigh and resolve to fake it until I make it. I snatch the chalk. “I’m sorry, I’ll just redo the board.”

Robin looks unconvinced. That’s what you get when you’re friends with your boss: well-meant meddling.

Meghan comes in and rattles off her order for the hardware store. As I make her coffees, and we chat about the unusually mild, but rainy March weather, I feel almost normal. When she leaves, she passes a grinning Patty Winslow in the door. My heart starts beating like a drum. I haven’t seen Finn’s mother this happy since before the night of the fire, so maybe she’s bringing good news. Perhaps I finally will be able to talk to Finn.

Patty comes straight for me. She takes my hands in hers and, with tears in her eyes, announces, “He’s coming home. He just called from the road.” A sob escapes her. “He’ll be home this afternoon.”

My knees weaken and tears well up, but my face breaks into the biggest grin ever. He’s coming home!

Patty looks around at the customers present. The Hartleys are here, and Mr. Vance is—they are the biggest gossips in town. Soon everyone will know that Finn is returning.

With a loud voice to make sure everybody hears, she declares, “I spoke with the doctor again, and he stressed how crucial it is for Finn to remember that night on his own. No one is to tell him. He needs to remember by himself.”

I’ve never understood that. Don’t doctors usually encourage patients meeting their friends and family? Talking about what happened? This feels wrong, but my formal education ended when I left high school, so I wouldn’t know anything about amnesia but for what I’ve read about since that night.

Patty turns back to me. “I’m sorry, dear. You’ll have to be patient a little longer. But the doctor is confident that, if you really matter to him, Finn will remember sooner or later.”

What if he doesn’t? Am I not important enough to be remembered?

How can I possibly tell him we’re having a baby when I’m not allowed to remind him we’ve had sex?

Read on: https://books2read.com/knocked-up-by-her-mountain-man

About the author

Ella writes sweet’n’steamy romances that are meant to provide short vacations from your everyday life. She loves to read, mostly romances, of course, and to putter around in her backyard, forever trying to turn it into a blooming garden. She’s got a dog who is helping greatly with all the garden work by supervising everything Ella does and—for the most part—not digging up her flowers.

Meet Ella

Follow Ella on Instagram @ellawritesromance

or on BlueSky https://bsky.app/profile/ellawritesromance.bsky.social

Sign-up to her emails and get a free novella https://ellabraeme.com/newsletter.htm

Visit the website https://ellabraeme.com

Other books by Ella BraemeContemporary RomanceElken Grove Mountain Men

Butting Heads with Her Mountain Man
Her Rock Star Mountain Man
Knocked Up by the Mountain Man

Married in Windfall

Nice Enough
Anyone at Hand
Someone I Chose
Santa’s Proposal
Married in Windfall (the entire series available as paperback)

Suspense RomanceShielded Hearts

Mountain Hideout ← free with sign-up

Touching the hand of God through watching birds

Janet on one of her many travels!

Please welcome my friend and sister writer, Janet Pierce!

Thanks for being with us today. First, would you tell us a bit about yourself? What area of the country do you live in, do you have a family, pets, etc.

I live in the eastern suburbs of Pittsburgh, PA with my husband. Occasionally our granddog Norman comes for a visit, with or without my grandsons. I have two sons, one lives in Cranberry, north of Pittsburgh with his wife and a mini-me, my granddaughter. My other son lives in the western suburbs of Pittsburgh with his wife, my two grandsons and Norman, the wonder dog- as my husband calls him.

Are you a coffee fiend, or do you have another “addiction” you must have on your desk at all times?

 I love coffee but it is not always at my desk. I may have water or tea, especially if it’s hot out or I have to do some talking with my critique groups.

Is your education relevant to your writing, or have you branched off in something entirely different to create? How would you best describe your books?

That’s an interesting question. I have written many different types of discourse. My very first attempt was when I was about 13. I was bored at our summer cottage after reading all the books I had brought with me, so I wrote The Carson Twins Mysteries- 2 of them. My twin sister illustrated them. They tell you to write what you know- so I wrote about twin sisters, used settings I was familiar with and mysteries which I loved to read at the time.

Years later, after getting my undergrad degree in Elementary Education and French, I couldn’t get a job in education right away. So, I wrote 2 children’s books for my sons, not published but now works in progress. Then I wrote and put on murder mysteries with my company Murder Most Mysterious. But after a year or two I found I did not like putting them on, I preferred to write them. So, I stopped that. While I was doing these things, I had my two sons. They even helped with the shows on occasion. Imagine having an 8- and 10-year-old in the cast. I was also writing and editing a weekly newspaper at the time. I enjoyed it but the money wasn’t very much. I also did free-lance feature stories for the Tribune Review during that time. I met a lot of interesting people for those stories. I loved doing the historical stories of people who had family members who did unusual things. As for myself I got a chance to go on a wagon train ride and found it fascinating. I rode in a surrey, a farm wagon and a Conestoga. I was in the surrey going up alongside a highway when a tornado went through the area. The sky darkened and wind howled. The horses formed a circle and turned inward. Luckily it did not come close to us.

Then as my writing job was being phased out at the newspaper, I managed to get a part-time teaching job. I taught English as a Second Language part-time while writing and then having to go to grad school to keep my teaching certificate. I had created my own double degree as an undergrad at Slippery Rock University and I ended up doing the same thing 28 years later at the University of Pittsburgh.

Eventually the reporting job ended, and I taught full-time. When PA said ESL teachers had to get an ESL certification, I was one of the few teachers who were able to get my certification through the creation of a work portfolio. I ended up teaching classes and developing online classes for the educating entities at the time. That led to my first self-published book- Teaching English Learners-Cultural Implications, Communications, Connections, and Curriculum. I also traveled up and down western PA teaching school district personnel how to create an ESL curriculum. In the 2000s I felt my job was threatened when another woman in my school district went back to school to get her ESL doctorate. So, I applied, was accepted and within 5 years, while teaching full-time, I got my PhD in English- Composition and TESOL. I actually graduated ahead of that teacher and was the oldest and first to finish in my cohort. I published articles in newsletters, and TESOL journals as well as having a chapter in one of their books- Revitalizing a Curriculum for School-Age Learners. I continued teaching until 2018 when I retired and decided to return to my first love- writing fiction. Now I am learning  another type of discourse.  I love history and researching so I use that in my fiction writing. I also love to watch birds at my bird feeders as I read or listen to my Bible.

Tell us about your most recent publication/whichever book you’d like to talk about today? 

My most recent publication is “Observations at the Bird Feeder, published the end of February.

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available  on Amazon https://a.co/d/0uVwo08

What inspired you to write this story? What interesting thing did you learn or research to write it that you didn’t know before?
I enjoy watching the birds that come to my bird feeder as I eat my breakfast and either listen to the Bible or read it. I started writing down my observations and how their actions reminded me of my own or other peoples’ reactions to things and then thought- “What does God think or say about this?” Having the app on my phone I was able to get key words and their scriptural basis as I wrote. I learned a lot of information about birds, and I learned a lot of scriptures. I was blessed to see these actions through both my eyes and the eyes of God as He talks in scriptures.

What’s your favorite thing about the book featured here today?

I am very pleased at how the book turned out, the pictures worked well and everything fell into place once I started getting it ready for publication.

Any special memories you have in the creation of it?

First of all, I never thought of these devotions as a book. It started as just a way to practice my writing skills, learn about birds and God. In one of my critique groups, I submitted a couple of them for our session and a woman told me, “You should get these published.” I asked the others what they thought. Now some of these woman were not overtly Christian and I didn’t even know if or what they believed so when they concurred, it was an Ah Ha moment. Of course, when I submitted the work to a couple of publishers, I was told it was too niche. That did not deter me. I finally decided to self-publish it. It is going well so far and I know a little bit about marketing (did I tell you I also worked in advertising for a very short time? ) but I try to remember, this book and the sales are my and my husband’s way of outreach, to others about how God is with us in all things and ways.

What do you most like about writing? I like imagining, and creating the stories, the writing and the research to learn more. Least like? Maybe doing the marketing, although I don’t hate it, it’s just that once more I have a lot to learn.

When did you first know you wanted to be an author?  Well, I’ve always had something to say and I like writing, it is one thing I’ve always done well, albeit after learning a bit of how to write in a particular genre.

Do you belong to any writing groups?

Yes, I belong to Pennwriters, and to St. David Christian Writers.

Are there any writing websites you find particularly useful?

I have a few sites. I get links for Jane Friedman, Roseanna White, Reedsy, Authors Publish, Thomas Umstadt, and Writers Helping Writers.

Is there any special music you like to listen to while writing?

No, I really like silence, so I can get into my thoughts and just write with no distractions. 

How does it inspire you? It doesn’t when I am actually writing.

On my walks and driving the car, yes, Christian music does inspire me. I have written songs and performed them as I played guitar in my younger days. I still sing, but arthritis keeps me from playing guitar.

Do you belong to a critique group? What do you find most valuable about the experience?  Yes, I belong to 2 critique groups- both online. I attend one that has helped me learn a lot about writing- POV, head-hopping, deepening tension are just a few of the things I’ve learned. I also run an online group that has members who have ebbed and flowed in and out from time to time. I wouldn’t mind running another one for Christian writers. I love doing it online too.

I drive to a Panera near me to meet with 3 other women who are Pennwriters and we discuss what we are doing, sharing pitfalls and encouragements.

To encourage those still on the path, tell us a little about your path to publication.  Don’t give up. Join a critique group, read and learn about writing.  You can ALWAYS learn. Pray a lot and network. This is the advice I would give to any writer.

My path has been a winding, meandering one, over many years. I’ve had to be patient and be persistent.

How many books have you published?  I self-published. My first one.-

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How many books did you write before selling one? What do you think was the key to selling that first book?  When I designed the ESL courses for the state of Pennsylvania, I used the book for several of the classes. So they had to order and use it. Since there were no other books like mine, it was necessary. I have sold of 1,200 books in the past 20 years.

What are you writing now?  I am currently working on my historical inspirational saga– Seasons: The Trevellian Family Saga.  There are to be 4 books in it. My agent is currently shopping the first one- Helena’s Autumn to publishers.

I also have an idea for another devotional. A pictoral book of the various things you see that reflect the wonder of God’s world on walks and what he has to say about them. The working title is- Walking in Wonder.

 What’s next for you—will you be making personal appearances anywhere our readers can find you? Yes. I may be doing a book crawl in Pittsburgh mid-May (details still to be worked out); I will be presenting at the Pennwriter’s Conference in Pittsburgh May 16-18th, and St. David Christian Writers in Meadville, PA  June 17-22nd, at the Ohio Heritage Festival in Westerville Ohio August 16th, and a book signing August 24 at the Carpenter Loghouse in Boyce Park, Plum Borough, PA. I will also be at the Pennwriters Area 1 Road Trip in October 3-5.

Anything else you would like to add?

It has been an honor to talk with you and thanks for this opportunity.

You and everyone can reach me on my blog- https://www.janetpierceswritingcafe.com

And my author page on face book- https://www.facebook.com/JanetPierceAuthor

And on Instagram- https://www.instagram.com/jpierce494/

Last chance!

We’re in the last hours of the stretch goals kickstarter for our HERitage book! In these UNPRECEDENTED times–and aren’t you sick of that word??–we need to read some stories that make us feel uplifted!! These stories all take a view of what might have changed history if various woman were victorious at specific times.
My story is a veiled reference to the Anita Hill hearing in the 1990s and how society might be today if we had all embraced the end of sexual harassment in the workplace. Imagine who might be president now… you gotta read it.
Check out the description here– for as little as 13 bucks, you get an ebook with beautiful art drawings. Rewards go up from there–if you donate $100, you can request your name be added to any story as a heroic character. Or if you need to name someone who needs a worse fate, you can do that too!
Last chances!! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/bluetrixbooks/twisting-turning-timeshifts

In a city renowned for being risqué, she’s setting new standards for sin

“All I ask, Lauren, is that you not embarrass me.”

When sexually emancipated MILF Lauren Gordon accompanies her husband to a convention in Las Vegas, she’s hoping for some R&R—ideally of the carnal variety. But Elliott’s running for president of NADA—the National Association of Divorce Lawyers—and he’s worried that his wife’s free-wheeling ways will undermine his chances. Reining in her frustration, Lauren promises to avoid any erotic interactions with conference attendees or hotel staff.

Fortunately she meets Annie O’Reilly, a redheaded Vegas native with luscious curves and few if any inhibitions. With Annie as her companion, Lauren becomes intimately acquainted with some outrageously wanton denizens of Sin City. Then her husband unfairly accuses her of breaking her promise and Lauren decides it’s time to go for broke.

Bringing together characters from Lisabet’s Vegas Babes and The Slut series, The Slut Does Vegas delivers heat, humor and a surprisingly happy ending.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1782-the-slut-does-vegas-vegas-babes-book-6/

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DZ15M9KK

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DZ15M9KK

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1719616

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-slut-does-vegas

Books2Read UBL: https://books2read.com/u/4E0GOY

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/228636610-the-slut-does-vegas

Add on BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-slut-does-vegas-vegas-babes-book-6-by-lisabet-sarai

Excerpt:

“All I ask, Lauren, is that you not embarrass me.”

Her husband’s unexpected utterance grabbed Lauren’s attention. She’d been ogling the cute waiter who was circulating from table to table, topping up coffees. A few years older than her son Josh, the guy had a hundred-watt smile and a luscious butt.

“What?” People at nearby tables gave her strange looks. “What do you mean, Elliott?” she continued, reducing her volume. “Embarrass you in what way?”

“You know… with any of your extracurricular activities.” Elliott’s mouth pursed as though he’d eaten something sour. “It would look really bad if you got…” He lowered his voice to a near-whisper. “Um…involved with anyone from the conference.”

She glanced around the hotel restaurant at the other people finishing their breakfasts. You could tell which ones were the lawyers. They wore expensive suits and expressions of self-importance. “I doubt I’d be interested in any of the conference attendees,” she commented dryly.

“The hotel staff wouldn’t be much better.” Maybe he’d noticed the attention she’d been giving the server. “If anyone here finds out about our – arrangement, it could kill my chances for the Association presidency.”

“You really want to be president of the National Association of Divorce Attorneys?” She chuckled despite herself. Who’d be oblivious enough to name their organization NADA?

“It’s really important for my career,” he insisted, wiping his mouth and pushing his plate away. “And it means a lot to me personally. Plus the connections could bring in a lot more business.”

“I understand that you’d like the recognition, hon. And I know you deserve it.” She rested her hand on his for a moment. “But from what I can see, you’re already swamped with work.” She downed the last swallow of her grapefruit juice, then licked her lips. “That’s one of the reasons for my ‘extracurricular activities’, as you so delicately put it. Let’s face it, you don’t have the time to keep me satisfied.”

Her husband slumped in his chair, as if she’d punched him in the gut. “I know I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve, baby,” he said softly. “And I’m okay with you getting what you need elsewhere, as we’ve agreed. But I need you to be discreet.”

“Do you think I’m so blatant about wanting sex?”

“Well, just look at the way you’re dressed, for starters.”

“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” She’d thrown on some casual clothes to join him for breakfast: a dungaree skirt that reached to mid-thigh and a striped tee shirt. True, the denim hugged her curves and the scooped neckline showed off her generous cleavage, but that would be true of almost anything she wore.

“You look – well, you look a bit slutty.”

Lauren burst into laughter. “Hon, this is Las Vegas, Sin City, where even the nuns dress like hookers. Nobody is going to think this outfit is slutty.”

Firing the architect’s desire

Welcome author Neil S. Plakcy and his latest sexy romance!

https://amzn.to/4hXVa1I

When enemies share a hotel room in a Boston snowstorm, things are bound to heat up…

Miami preservationist Victoria Whitmore has met her match in Alex Rivera—a devastatingly sexy developer who’s determined to tear down the historic neighborhood she’s sworn to protect. With his smoldering dark eyes and perfectly tailored suits, he’s temptation personified. Too bad he’s also her sworn enemy.

Self-made developer Alex Rivera has always gotten what he wants through hard work and determination. But proper, passionate Victoria Whitmore tests his control like no one else. When she challenges him with that aristocratic tilt of her chin, he doesn’t know whether to argue with her or kiss her senseless.

Forced to work together against a ruthless competitor, Victoria and Alex find themselves sharing a hotel room during a Boston snowstorm. One bed, two stubborn hearts, and enough chemistry to power all of Miami Beach.

BLUEPRINT FOR PASSION sizzles with forbidden attraction, forced proximity, and the undeniable heat of Miami nights. This steamy enemies-to-lovers romance proves that sometimes the best foundations are built on opposites attracting.

Content warning: Contains a Latin lover who knows exactly how to push all the right buttons, steamy scenes that will fog up your windows faster than a Miami summer day, and enough sexual tension to rival the Florida humidity.

• Powerful Hero

• Strong Professional Heroine
• Slow Burn Steamy Romance

Heat level: (4 out of 5 peppers)

ASIN: B0DXHLZ2Y2 https://amzn.to/4hXVa1I

Published February 16, 2025, Samwise Books

Genre: Contemporary Romance

About the Author:

Neil Plakcy crafts engaging stories that celebrate love, identity, and found family across multiple genres. From the charming Golden Retriever mysteries to the gritty Mahu series featuring a gay Hawaiian detective, Plakcy’s work engages and delights readers.  Whether penning contemporary romances or Victorian-era tales, Plakcy’s straightforward, immersive style transports readers worldwide, from Miami to London. With over two decades of experience, Plakcy invites readers to see the world through different eyes.

Excerpt:

Movement at the edge of Elder’s Landing caught her eye. A Subaru SUV pulled up to the curb and she watched with curiosity as Alex Rivera stepped out of the driver’s side. The SUV was not the flashy sports car she’d expected from Miami’s newest development golden boy.

Damn. The photos in the business journals hadn’t done him justice. Even from her balcony vantage point, she could see why the planning board had fallen for his charm offensive. Tall, easily over six feet, with a lean, athletic build.

His dark hair had a slight wave that suggested resistance to Miami’s humidity, and his olive skin spoke of Cuban heritage. The charcoal suit was perfectly tailored to highlight those broad shoulders, but it was his face that held her attention. Strong jawline, remarkable cheekbones, and eyes that managed to be both shrewd and warm at once. He moved with the contained grace of someone completely comfortable in their own skin, confident but not arrogant. When he smiled at whoever was inside the car, the expression transformed his whole face, adding a boyish charm to his otherwise serious demeanor.

He turned to open the passenger door, and Victoria absolutely refused to acknowledge the little flutter in her stomach when he smiled at whoever was inside.

Then he looked up.

For one endless moment, their gazes locked across the morning air. Victoria refused to step back, though every instinct screamed at her to retreat from the intensity of that stare. Instead, she lifted her chin slightly, a silent challenge. His answering smile was slow, appreciative, and far too knowing.