Devika Fernando's Blog, page 57

Review - 'Rudraksha - When Gods Came Calling' by Readomania

Not long ago, I read the fascinating book "Crossed & Knotted" by Readomania (India’s first composite novel), an unusual anthology of short stories by various authors that were each a chapter of a novel coming full circle in the end. So I was more than happy to receive a review copy of Readomania’s latest offering "Rudraksha – When Gods Came Calling", edited by Sutapa Basu. The tantalizing cover whetted my appetite just like the promising blurb with Indian mythology at its heart, so I dove right in.

Instead of reading the whole book in one go, as I so often do it, I deliberately made myself read only one chapter at a time, so I could savour and relish each bite and swallow the morsel whole before forming my opinion on the whole dish (book).

The book kicks off on a modern and unlikely note that had me wondering how on earth Indian gods would fit in. As soon as understanding dawned, I found it to be really well written, witty and entertaining. And these three words can be applied to the other stories too. They switch from contemporary to historical, from funny to dramatic, from human-centered to godly in every way. It made me feel glad that I had chosen to read each story separately, for although there is a common thread holding them all together, they do not form a ‘composite novel’ like "Crossed & Knotted". I thoroughly enjoyed all the mythical tastes I got, although viewed together the many characters and different styles are a bit overwhelming. The readers need to concentrate, which isn’t a bad thing because that way they’ll discover a few gems along the way – among them the title story "Rudraksh" by Ayan Pal, "Come Back As Anyone" by Paulami Duttagupta, "The Woman Who Prayed!" by Deepti Menon and "One Woman, Many Forms" by Sanchita Sen Das.

Ultimately, the books shows the hidden human sides of the gods and the hidden godly sides of the humans, which in itself is no easy feat. I’d describe this collection of mythological short stories as alike to those delightful bags of spicy Indian snacks. Filled with various nuts, bits and pieces, some a little bitter, some slightly sweet, some astonishingly hot, some crunchy and some soft, some round and puffed up and some small slender sticks. Each bite is a difficult to define mix of flavours, and no bite the same, although there is an overall sensation of satisfaction.

Rating: 4/5

Tornado Giveaway 2: Book 78: THE MADRAS AFFAIR by Sundari Venkatraman

Go to Book No. 77 Check all the Books Here 

Name of the Book: THE MADRAS AFFAIR
Author: Sundari Venkatraman

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1. Deepti Menon 
2. xxx
3. xxx

The Story:

Sangita Sinclair was not always this successful & passionate lady, heading the NGO “Penn Urimai” for downtrodden, abused and homeless women….
When Sangita catches the eye of Gautam Sinclair she is a simple, homely girl; utterly unaware of her charms & capabilities. She has the devil’s own time in overcoming her inhibitions, hesitation, and her family’s orthodox and outdated rules before recognising her love for Gautam.
Will Gautam be able to solve Sangita’s Dilemma or will she be forever trapped in her past?

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About The Author 


Sundari Venkatraman 
Even as a kid, Sundari absolutely loved the ‘lived happily ever after’ syndrome as she grew up reading all the fairy tales she could lay her hands on, Phantom comics, Mandrake comics and the like. It was always about good triumphing over evil and a happy end.

Soon, into her teens, Sundari switched her attention from fairy tales to Mills & Boon. While she loved reading both of these, she kept visualising what would have happened if there were similar situations happening in India; to a local hero and heroine. Her imagination took flight and she always lived in a rosy cocoon of romance over the years.

Then came the writing – a true bolt out of the blue! She could never string two sentences together. While her spoken English had always been excellent – thanks to her Grandpa – she couldn’t write to save her life.

All this changed suddenly one fine day in the year 2000. She had just quit her job as a school admin and didn’t know what to do with her life. She was saturated with simply reading books. That’s when she returned home one evening after her walk, took some sheets of paper and began writing. It was like watching a movie that was running in her head – all those years of visualising Indian heroes and heroines needed an outlet and had to be put into words. That’s how her first novel, The Malhotra Bride, took shape. While she felt discouraged when publishing didn’t happen, it was her husband who kept encouraging her not to give up.

In the meanwhile, she landed a job as Copy Editor with Mumbai Mirror. After working there for two years, she moved to the Network 18 Group and worked with two of their websites over the next six years, as Content Editor.

Despite her work schedule, she continued to write novels and then short stories and had them published in her blogs. She also blogs voraciously, writing on many different topics – travel, book reviews, film reviews, restaurant reviews, spirituality, alternative health and more.

Her first eBook Double Jeopardy – a romance novella – was published by Indireads and has been very well received by readers of romance.

In 2014, Sundari self-published The Malhotra Bride (2nd Edition); Meghna; The Runaway Bridegroom; Flaming Sun Collection 1: Happily Ever Afters From India (Box Set) and Matches Made In Heaven (a collection of romantic short stories).

2015 brought yet another opportunity. Readomania came forward to traditionally publish this book – The Madras Affair – a mature romance set in Madras.

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Tornado Giveaway 2: Book 77: DONE WITH MEN by Shuchi Singh Kalra

Go to Book No. 76 Check all the Books Here 

Name of the Book: DONE WITH MEN
Author: Shuchi Singh Kalra

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1. Dola Basu Singh 
2. Inderpreet Kau rl Uppal
3. Nilima Mohite 

The Story:

Travel journo, Kairavi Krishna (Kay) has had it with men. After a series of disasters (losers, philanderers, leeches, mama's boys and possessive psychos), she is all too tempted to walk out on the prospect of ever finding love. Accompanied by her best friend and flat-mate Baani, she sets off for Goa, hoping to get away from her miserable love life and vowing to stay clear of the male species.
Goa however, has a host of surprises in store for her. Ricky, her pesky ex-boyfriend, is busy painting the town red with his hot new girlfriend. Now what is poor Kay to do other than overdose on vodka, smoke pot, get an outrageous tattoo and fall off the hotel balcony? She wakes up in the hospital to the tender ministrations of Dr.Vivian D'Mello--young, suave and handsome as hell. Will Kay stick to her guns or will she fall for his ridiculously sexy charms? And what's up with the mixed signals he's giving out?

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About The Author 


Shuchi Singh Kalra 
Shuchi Singh Kalra is a writer, editor and blogger based in India. She has been writing since 2005, and has freelanced with major print and online publications including Femina.in, Hotelier International, Good Housekeeping, Home Review, Parent & Child, Vista, Dogs & Pups, Women’s Era and Time ‘N’ Style. She also writes for several businesses from across the world.

Shuchi is the owner of Pixie Dust Writing Studio, a writing and editing firm that services a global clientele, and the Indian Freelance Writers Blog. She has started dabbling in fiction only recently and her first book, Done With Men (published by Indireads), has received rave reviews from readers and reviewers alike. Her short stories have appeared in Love Across Borders, Stories For Your Valentine and NAW Anthology 2013.ne of India’s leading eye hospitals. Traveling is her first love and she leads a happily nomadic life with her fauji husband and livewire toddler.


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#FreeDailyRead - When I See Your Face, Part 32 - THE END

When I See Your Face, Part 32 - The EndGripping the folded poster in one hand and all her courage in the other hand, Cathy stepped into the lofty gallery that hosted Michael’s exhibition. She remained standing close to the entrance and surveyed the situation from there, realizing that she wasn’t so much filled with trepidation as with anticipation.

With every beat, her heart asked "yes? no? yes? no?" and her mind willed her to believe that the answer would be yes.

In front of her lay a room neither big nor small, devoid of any furniture and filled with maybe twenty people ambling around. His art hung on the walls, one long wall opposite her dedicated to the pencil sketches, vivid nature paintings displayed to the left and right of her. The drawings screamed at her to come closer and inspect them.

Cathy, who had kept her woolen hat and scarf on for fear of being recognized as the person portrayed, ducked her head lower and tried as hard as possible to walk at casual speed like the rest of the people in the room. She stopped close to the biggest picture, sitting prominently in the center of the wall and showing her face half covered in tresses of hair, looking deep in thought, somehow at the same time vulnerable and strong in a quiet, inward way, as if focused on something.

She stared and stared at the drawing, feeling as though he had looked right into her innermost sanctuary and known her for who she was at a time when she hadn’t known herself.

And wasn’t that what had drawn her to this man who physically incorporated all that she had learned to fear and loathe, but in behavior and character was her dream partner incarnate? In such a short time and with such awkward situations, he had seen through everything and managed to understand her better than anybody ever had, including herself, her parents and her former husband. Remembering him and their short, mostly happy time together sent her pulse racing and her heart aching with longing. As impossibly sentimental as it sounded, his soul and her soul must have connected. Which made it all the more hurtful that he had hidden the truth from her and that she had not given him a real chance. Talking about chances…

When she broke out of her reverie and moved on to the other portrays, all somewhat smaller but no less meaningful and beautiful, it slowly registered that people were whispering comments about the pictures. A word here and there got carried to her.

Inspirational.
Emotional.
Deep.
Dreamy.
Talented.

All words she would have used to describe the artist himself more than his work. Only in hindsight had she realized how difficult it must have been for Michael, knowing that he had feelings for his hated twin brother’s ex-wife. The whole past that he had been so successful at forgetting must have come crashing back, just as he had looked like a demon from her past, and proven to be an angel leading the way into a better future.

How had it felt to grow attached to someone who could destroy all the peace for which he had paid such a dear price? How hard had it been for him to live with the knowledge that he was holding something back from her that might separate them forever? She had during all these months wondered about his side of the story so many times, and Aunt Grindle’s letter had made her think some more. It had brought all the warmth back that his smile, his kindness, his intelligence and his confidence had awoken inside her at a time when she had felt frozen in place. Somehow, it was as though he had been the reason for her breaking out of her chrysalis and turning from a timid caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly testing out its fragile, yet shiny wings.

 When she woke from her thoughts, she overheard a woman saying to her husband that the pictures spoke of a close bond between the artist and the model, and somehow, that filled her with an even deeper love and gave her more courage than she had thought she possessed. She turned around in a pirouette slowly, searching for Michael and spotting him in the opposite corner, explaining something to a guest under a big painting of a delicate orange-yellow rose surrounded by a lighter bud and a half-opened second rose.

As though he had sensed her gaze and felt her longing, he turned in her direction.

Their eyes met.

Time stood still.

It was impossible to identify the look on his face from the distance, but she clearly saw that he had stopped in mid-sentence and didn’t know how to go on.

Cathy, her feet automatically starting to carry her closer to him, bumped into somebody. In the moment it took her to mutter an excuse without showing her face too clearly, he had moved. When she searched for him, she caught him walking out of a side door.

Feeling that there had never been anything more important in her life, she hastened after him. She went through the door and came out on a roof-top terrace that was covered in fluffy white snowflakes resting atop a hard sheet of frozen old snow. It was deserted but for Michael.

He was standing with his back to her, arms wound tightly around his torso and staring ahead. Simply being so close to him again sent her emotions on overdrive. She felt the overwhelming need to reach out and touch him, make sure that he was real and that this wasn’t one of a million dreams she had reveled in ever since their separation. She wanted him to hold her and make her feel safe the way he had as soon as she had managed to look behind the face and see the real him. There were so many things to say. Most of all, she wanted to be sure that she was doing the right thing.

Something told her that nothing in life was ever as sure as people wanted it to be. It had felt like the right thing to do to come here, and now she would not go back. Whatever his reaction, her feelings for him were true. With every breath she took, she needed him, wanted him and loved him. This was her chance to make things right. Their second chance. How many people had the luck to be given second chances?

She stepped over the threshold, all inward and outward shaking gone.

At the sound of her boots crunching on the snow, Michael wheeled around, shot her one of those intense looks she remembered so vividly, opened his mouth and closed it again.

He had changed in the few months, as surely as she must have changed too. There was a slight gauntness to his face that had been slim and finely boned before. He looked as though he hadn’t been very happy the past few months, the lines in his face slightly more pronounced now, his eyes deep and speaking of hurt in a way that she knew her eyes must have reflected those days. Her heart clenched at the thought that she must be the cause for his unhappiness, but then her spirits lifted because she was holding the key to be the cause for his happiness from now on. At least if she had interpreted all the signs correctly.

Part of her wanted to continue looking at him for some time, to feast her eyes on the face that had haunted her dreams and was inevitably connected to the rest of her life. She realized that he was staring at her in much the same manner, though probably with less hope in his heart and less determination in his mind. His eyes wandered over her as though he meant to memorize every detail of her appearance, for fear of losing her again and not having more than those fresh memories.

How she wished she knew what he was thinking and feeling right now!

Not wanting him to speak first, she gave herself a mental push and moved toward him, the few feet over crunching snow feeling like a mile-long trek across dangerous terrain. Extending a hand to him and smiling her brightest smile up into his for once unreadable, handsome face, she said, “You must be the artist whose works are displayed inside. They’re wonderful, especially the portraits! By the way, my name is Cathy Langley. Pleased to meet you.”

For a long second, there was only stunned silence, ringing loudly in her ears, but at the same time drowned out by the fierce hopeful beating of her heart.

“My Cathy,” Michael whispered, his voice breaking with feeling.

“No, no, this won’t do. Your line should have been, Pleased to meet you too. That is the way we should have met the first time. Better not to remember that messed up first time. This is our second chance. This is our new life,” she said, her own voice just as croaky and on the verge of tears.

As an answer, he swept her off her feet and spun around with her in a circle, laughing and peppering her face with kisses.

THE END

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Tornado Giveaway 2: Book 73 - SECOND NATURE by Marie Lavender

Go to Book No. 72 Check all the Books Here 
Name of the Book: SECOND NATURE
Author: Marie Lavender

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1. Devika Fernando  
2. Nadene 
3. Sara 

The Story:

She never expected it…
Desiree Edwards has a problem. She’s been attacked, kidnapped and forced to get along with a vampire of all things. It’s something right out of the story books she reads, or her worst nightmare. But, sometimes he’s not the monster he appears to be. He seems so humanlike that she can’t help it when her emotions betray her, when her body betrays her. To make matters worse, she finds out more about herself than she ever wanted to know.
She was unlike any other…
Alec has a problem. The animal in him wants Desiree. But, so does the man. The more he learns about her, the harder it is to deny what he wants. But, he’s a freak, and she’s just a human. The two species don’t mix that way. Then an old enemy surfaces and Alec is forced to make a choice. His life or hers.
Can Alec’s soul be saved by this unique human? Or will it be far too late?

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About The Author 


Marie Lavender  
Bestselling author of UPON YOUR RETURN and 20 other books. Poetry winner of the 2015 PnPAuthors Contest. Honorable Mention in the 2014 BTS Red Carpet Book Awards. Finalist and Runner-up in the 2014 MARSocial's Author of the Year Competition. Honorable mention in the January 2014 Reader's Choice Award. Liebster Blogger Award for 2013 and 2014. Top 50 Authors on AuthorsDB.com. Winner of the Great One Liners Contest on the Directory of Published Authors.

Marie Lavender lives in the Midwest with her family and three cats. She has been writing for over twenty years. She has more works in progress than she can count on two hands. Marie has published twenty-one books in the genres of historical romance, contemporary romance, romantic suspense, paranormal romance/fantasy, mystery/thriller, literary fiction and poetry. Her current series are The Heiresses in Love Series, The Magick Series and The Blood at First Sight Series. Feel free to visit her website at http://marielavender.com/ for further information about her books and her life. Marie is also on Facebook, Twitter, Google+ and LinkedIn.

A list of her books and pen names are as follows:

Marie Lavender: Upon Your Return; Magick & Moonlight; Upon Your Honor; Second Nature; "Lovers Like Us" (from the book anthology, Poets & Writers in Action); A Little Magick

Erica Sutherhome: Hard to Get; Memories; A Hint of Scandal; Without You; Strange Heat; Terror in the Night; Haunted; Pursuit; Perfect Game; A Touch of Dawn; Ransom; Leather and Lace

Kathryn Layne: A Misplaced Life

Heather Crouse: Express Café and Other Ramblings; Ramblings, Musings and Other Things; Soulful Ramblings and Other Worldly Things.

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Go to Book No. 74 
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#FreeDailyRead - When I See Your Face, Part 31

When I See Your Face, Part 31For a long time, Cathy sat rigid, the letter in her hand, staring blankly ahead.

She pictured Aunt Grindle and Michael, the handsome man’s face more deeply lined than ever while pouring out his story, the old landlady shocked and at the same time trusting and trying to console him. Vividly, she could imagine Mark and Michael as boys and young men, the former always more forward, calculating and successful than the latter. She might have mistaken Michael for her husband in that first instant, but hadn’t she noticed those small differences afterward?

The longer she had known him, the less she had been reminded of Mark. Surely she had fallen in love with him not because of his looks but because of the way he had treated her. After running away, every action of his seemed to confirm what Mark had spit out that day. She had been certain that Michael had deliberately concocted a story to associate with her, planning to wiggle his way back into the family or profit from the fortune he thought she would end up with after the divorce.

In the weeks following her hasty departure, she had slowly begun to doubt. People could be wrong about first impressions and generalizing and accepting half-truths, couldn’t they? Hadn’t she taken Mark for granted too many times and ruined her life with it? How was she to know whether he had spoken the truth?

Now, Aunt Grindle’s letter fuelled all those doubts and her inner readiness to take Michael’s side. Yes, he had made a huge mistake those days by involving himself in such business. However, he repented, and mistakes were human. Yes, he had made another huge mistake by hiding his identity from her. Then again, had he told her, she wouldn’t have given him a single chance, would she?

Biting her lip and setting the letter down, she let out a deep sigh.

She couldn’t get his face out of her thoughts, dreams and wishes. Maybe he had acted so guiltily before her running away precisely because he knew he had been wrong and wished so much that it were otherwise? Maybe that was what separated him most from his brother, that one thought he was always right and deserved the best and the other thought he didn’t deserve the best and was doomed to be connected with what he had done wrong? Maybe he had renamed himself Newland because on the one hand it was closely related to Nolan and on the other hand it signified him stepping onto new land? Maybe she was ready for the relationship now that she was standing on her own feet and didn’t feel like she depended on his help or that her new life was inseparably tied to him? Maybe…

She picked up the folded piece of paper that had been in the envelope and unfolded it to its considerable size. What she saw made her breath stop.

The paper was a poster advertising an art exhibition, in the very city where she now lived and by no other than Michael Newland. The exhibition was titled When I See Your Face and the poster displayed about ten different works as well as the date. What drew her eyes more than the splashes of color depicting flowers in the top row were the many pencil sketches that took up the most space on the poster. One was the hillside on the outskirts of the village. Right next to that was what looked like a fairy dancing through fields of flowers. It sent a jolt through her, remembering that afternoon walk where they had made future plans and kissed, remembering the bliss she had felt despite all the forebodings and doubts.

The rest of the drawings all showed the same person. Herself. She stared at the playing-card-sized prints. Her face laughing, next to a sun shining exuberantly. Her face all scrunched up in concentration. Her face half hidden behind a veil of hair, contemplative. A full-body portray of her leaning on a spade with tussled hair, dirt-streaked clothes and a tentative smile. One of a woman, who must also be her, crouching in the corner of a room with a shadowy man raised threateningly above her as if to strike out. The likeness was uncanny, the skill so much more than what she would have expected from the art she had seen with her own eyes.

Her heart beating on overdrive, Cathy took a decision.

(To be continued tomorrow.)

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Tornado Giveaway 2: Book 67: TAKE A CHANCE ON ME by Mia Epsilon

Go to Book No. 66 Check all the Books Here 

Name of the Book: TAKE A CHANCE ON ME
Author: Mia Epsilon

Read some reviews:

1. Torie James
2. Krista Kelly 
3. Dawn Brower

The Story:

Friends and lovers rarely mix well with coworkers and embezzlement cases, just ask Christine and Charlie.
After a near fatal accident leads to one incredible night of amazing sex, Christine and Charlie take the leap from friends to lovers.
Christine has battled many demons in the last few years. Charlie has always been her confident and support. When Charlie refuses to answer emails or texts after an embezzling scheme arises at work, Christine must come to terms with not only losing a fabulous lover and her best friend but her job as well.
Charlie carries his own scars when it comes to women. Yet there's something about Christine which brings out his protective side and makes him hope for love he's wanted for years.
Christine and Charlie must work together to catch the thief before they can secure a love of a lifetime. Can they catch the embezzler before they lose not only their jobs and each other, but their lives as well?
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About The Author 


Mia Epsilon
Mia Epsilon is the author of the 'Weddings by C & C' contemporary romance series featuring a location wedding company and set in Hawaii. The first two books, Take a Chance on Me and Wedding Belle Blues, are available now with the third, fourth and fifth due out later this year. A feisty red head, Mia lives with her enduring hubby in the gorgeous Blue Ridge Appalachian Mountains, USA. She's an avid reader of almost anything and loves to be curled up with a great book. She never misses an episode of Doctor Who or Sherlock and happily suffers coffee and chocolate addictions. She can most often be found at her computer spinning new stories or in a quiet padded nook with her e-reader.

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Go to Book No. 68 
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#FreeDailyRead - When I See Your Face, Part 30

When I See Your Face, Part 30Biting her lip, she continued her journey upwards, the letter now feeling heavier and the empty crate mocking her with all the hopes she was wasting on it.

Four months had gone by and she had partly succeeded in leaving her past behind. Her divorce case was running smoothly despite Mark doing his best to disentangle himself from any responsibility. Frankly, after the confrontation at Michael’s doorstep, her husband hadn’t much entered her thoughts at all. It was a chapter almost closed that had no hold on her present and future. What did have a hold on her, was embedded in her heart like a thorn from the many roses she had planted alongside Michael, was the love she still felt for him. Yes, love.

For, as much as she might try to convince herself of the opposite, she clearly still had feelings for him and she missed him. At night and on evenings huddled in a blanket in front of the TV, it didn’t matter that he had lied to her, that he had probably planned on using her, that she shouldn’t forgive him and that they didn’t have a chance. It simply didn’t matter in her heart of hearts, although her mind came up with page-long lists of pros and cons. She missed him, illogically and achingly, as though he were an integral part of her. She dreamt of him, sometimes happy dreams full of romance, sometimes nightmares full of remembered hurt.

Only recently had it felt easier to shake those feelings off and immerse herself in her cake future and in her new single life. She concentrated on how good it felt that with her own ideas and personal marketing campaigns, she was on her best way to acquire a steady clientele. She concentrated on how good it felt to not depend on anybody, to live in a city full of amenities and possibilities without being caged in an empty, richly decorated mansion like a bird by a husband who didn’t make her feel like a wife.

Why? Why did this letter have to reach her now?

She unlocked the door to the flat, called out and was luckily rewarded with silence. She peeled herself out of the gloves, winter coat, scarf and knee-high boots and went into the kitchen. After putting down the empty crate and switching on the kettle to make herself a cup of coffee, she threw both envelopes into the dustbin and walked away. After a few steps, she raced back, took the letter addressed to her out and placed it on the kitchen counter. While waiting for the water to boil and preparing her cup of coffee, her eyes kept returning to the envelope, inconspicuous though it looked, a white rectangle against a reddish wooden counter top. Like a magnet, the letter drew her attention to it with its many possibilities and fears it created inside her.

She drank a scalding hot sip of coffee and went into her room with the cup and the letter. Locking the door behind her, which she had never done before, she sat down on the bed, eyed the letter wearily for what must have been several minutes and tore it open full of trepidation.


Cathy dear,

You must be wondering how I got your new address. It so happened that Bertha’s son had gone into the city for a delivery and seen your leaflets in the supermarket. Knowing how much I was hoping from a word from you, he brought one back. It makes me glad to see that you are apparently keeping fine and on your way to making your business dream come true. I wish you wouldn’t have left like that.

Don’t let me waste time on these matters. As I so like to say, what happened in the past had better stay in the past.

And now let me break my own rule by dragging up a matter from the past that has sadly bullied its way into the present and that I feel might keep you from a happier future. I can only hope and pray that you will give yourself and others a chance by reading on and being open for the truth.

On the day that you left, Michael visited me and told me what had happened. Believe me, I can understand what a shock it must have been for you. I had no idea that he has a twin brother who is or was married to you. Do you remember how surprised I was when you showed me that photograph? Anyway, he explained why he had been hiding his past from you. I will give you a summary here because I think you deserve to know the truth although you might not want to know it. And I swear to you upon my honor: I have not been asked by Michael to tell you all this or contact you. He has no idea whatsoever that I am writing to you.

Apparently, Michael and Mark grew up together and were inseparable until about the age when they entered school. Soon, though they were both brilliant and liked the same subjects, their characters developed in different ways. During their teenage years, Mark was the leader, the charmer and the connection to the world and Michael would follow his lead and remain quiet on the inside. Grandfather Nolan, who had founded the house and property business and recruited his own son from the earliest time possible, soon decided to integrate the two promising twins in the family enterprise.

Both graduated from high school with flying colors and went to university, at the same time entering the company as trainees under their father’s watchful eyes. Before he had finished his Master’s Degree, Mark replaced his father as the Manager of the company when the doctors recommended to take things slow because of his heart problem. Michael worked alongside his brother all the time, but showed less and less enthusiasm for the business as time went on. After some years, Mark had succeeded in changing several things, modernizing the business and making it more known nationally as well as internationally.

There came a time—I don’t know whether you remember it because you lived much closer to where things happened and were later to become Mark’s wife—when the company lost one of their biggest customers. The media smelled a scandal and investigated, finding out that Nolan House & Property had apparently cheated on a huge scale. Before things could get ugly, Grandfather Nolan stepped in, threw his weight around and managed to silence the media more or less. Said customer filed a court case. Both brothers were accused of fraud. I don’t know the details because I told Michael that I wouldn’t understand them anyway and he looked about ready to die with shame and guilt.

To cut the long story short, the company’s lawyers and the powerful Nolans managed to keep the damage as low as possible and wipe the company’s name clean by blaming some minor employee and handing out wrong information to the media. Both brothers were sentenced to 12 months of prison and a high compensation payment. Mark wiggled out of this too, but Michael renounced himself from more cheating, broke all ties with his family and actually went to prison. He was released several months earlier due to perfect conduct and came out a changed person. Nobody of his family had ever contacted him apart from Grandfather Nolan, and even that in secret. Notifying the family’s main lawyer of his plans and never looking back, Michael came to our village and started a new life on a different name.

He has made it very clear that he admits that he is to some extent guilty, but that he used to hate what he had to do and that he vowed at that time never to cheat anyone again. When he met you, he fell in love with you despite finding out that you were, of all people, his brother’s soon-to-be ex-wife. His plan was to give you a chance to get to know the real him without being influenced by the past he has left behind and by his likeness to a brother he hates as much as you.

He had wanted to give you some weeks before he revealed everything to you, thinking of enlisting Grandfather Nolan’s help if that meant he could earn your trust and affection, though he hadn’t contacted any family member for years. Now, with Mark having presented the story in a slightly different, though essentially true, light and their grandfather not among the living, Michael’s hopes have been shattered. He scolds himself for not coming clean right from the start and doesn’t want to search for you, though he is still head over heels in love with you. I’m quite good at recognizing those things, although or maybe because I am an old village lady.

I am much less sure about your feelings. However, I have seen you two together and couldn’t imagine a better pair. However, it is not my intention to bring you two back together. It is up to you both to sort out your lives. I have done what my heart tells me is my duty. Let me sign off with wishing you all the best, telling you that I would love to keep in touch and attaching something that might interest you.

With warm regards and high hopes,
Aunt Grindle

(To be continued tomorrow.)

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#FreeDailyRead - When I See Your Face, Part 29

When I See Your Face, Part 29Chapter 10  

4 months later

“Bye and thanks once again!”

She waved cheerfully and walked out of the bakery with an empty plastic crate under her arm, careful not to slip on the ice-covered pavement.

This was the third time in a row that the baker’s wife had bought her cakes. The first time, roughly two weeks ago, she had offered the lady and her husband a free slice each of three of her best cakes. They had liked the taste and placed a tentative order of two cakes of each variety. Those had sold out in record time, so last week and the day before, they had ordered 4 of the same three cakes. The baker’s wife had promised her that she would place the advertising leaflets on the counter. On those, Cathy offered a whole cake-on-demand of the slices available at the bakery if given one day’s notice.

Standing at the bus halt, she went over her weekly schedule in her head. Tomorrow was Friday, which meant she had to deliver a set of 47 cupcakes to the IT company around the corner from where she lived.

A month ago, she had approached the cafeteria supervisor with some leaflets and a tray of cupcakes, trying her utmost to convince the young man that serving something nice and sweet at least once a week as a brunch or with the afternoon coffee would make a positive impression on the staff. The supervisor had referred her to the Office Manager and she had succeeded in letting her give a trial run. Her cupcakes, which she had colored blue and white and topped with a computer symbol made out of icing, had been a hit.

Ever since that day, once a week, she delivered a cupcake for each staff member to the cafeteria. The Customer Care Manageress had ordered a set of 60 cupcakes for her forthcoming birthday party, if possible decorated with a tiny cat on top of whipped cream. She had accepted and surprised herself with being bold enough to ask for an advance to buy all the ingredients.

Stepping from one foot onto the other in the cold and watching her breath create white clouds in the air, she made a mental list of ingredients she would need for the Santa-shaped Christmas cake that a kindergarten had ordered.

Business was growing, slowly but steadily. She was already making enough money to cover the cost for the ingredients and have a little spare cash at hand. On Saturdays and Sundays, she worked as a waitress at an Italian restaurant not far away, which gave her enough income to start paying back the loan she had taken.

The several thousand pounds she had managed to obtain from a private creditor after much to and fro and throwing around her weight by mentioning the Nolan company were allowing her to pay the rent and cover the food expenses as well as get started with her business by buying some important baking equipment. She had created and published her website, which had already provided her with one wedding cake order two months ago, and printed a set of leaflets. During the week, she spent her time travelling the neighborhood to approach potential customers with cake samples and distribute her flyers.

Much of what she did reminded her painfully of Michael’s ideas and tips but felt exactly right.

The bus slid to a halt in front of her. She stepped aboard, found a seat at the back and dropped the crate to the floor. Taking her brightly striped gloves and her matching woolen hat off, she rubbed some life and warmth into her fingers and thought back on the past four months.

The bus in which she had fled the village had taken her to this big city that looked so much like the one she had left behind yet also provided her with what she needed for a new start.

After pawning her mobile phone and using the money to pay for a bed in a group room in a youth hostel that had a breakfast buffet included in the fees, she had spent a whole day on a park bench, hugging herself and thinking hard.

The morning after, she had woken up to the noise of boisterous school children and been filled again with that strange determination to take things into her own hands. The following days had been spent researching on her laptop, tapping into the hostel’s free Wi-Fi and cheering herself up with some nice cake photos whenever despair threatened again. With hardly a cent in hand—living on the generous breakfast, the rolls and odd apple or banana she pilfered from it and the water from the filter in the hostel’s common room—she managed to survive. Deciding against a job search that would take too much time without getting her anywhere, she had approached several creditors and finally found an open ear and full purse to come to her aid.

The next steps had been comparatively easy. Buying a handful of warm clothes and the most important baking utensils, she had commenced baking and getting her business rolling. Within several days, she had been able to move out of the hostel and into a two-roomed apartment that she shared with a History student only three years younger than her. With the girl mostly sleeping over at her boyfriend’s place, she had the kitchen mostly to herself and poured all her hope into baking.

She was waiting for a confirmation email from a catering service that was thinking of including personalized cakes for special events on their list. If she landed that deal, it would bring more financial stability.

What was missing in her life was not so much security and hope rather than someone to share it all with, someone who would care and support her whenever doubts paralyzed her again.

* * *

Cathy pulled two letters out of their common letter box and climbed the five flights up to the apartment, hoping that as usual, her flat mate wouldn’t be at home. While climbing up, she scanned the envelopes of the letters. One was clearly some advertisement or other, touting from the front that she shouldn’t miss the opportunity of her lifetime. The other looked more promising and felt quite heavy. At the front, her name and address were written in slanting cursive letters that looked somehow old-fashioned. Was that another customer? She turned the envelope over and stopped in mid-track, unable to breathe for a moment. Among an address, two words written on the back in the same neat print jumped out at her: Aunt Grindle.

She trembled, not sure whether it was from standing still in the unheated stairwell or from shock.

How had Mrs. Grindle, the kind old landlady at the village guest house, found her address? Why on earth would she write to her? Did she want to read the letter? Why should she bother?

(To be continued tomorrow.)

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Tornado Giveaway 2: Book 64: WORST WEEK EVER by Liza O'Connor

Go to Book No. 63 Check all the Books Here 




Name of the Book: WORST WEEK EVER
Author: Liza O'Connor

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The Story:

What do you get when you put a hardworking, can-do middle-class young woman together with a egoistical, outrageous, billionaire boss, then throw in the worst week of disasters imaginable?
Book 1 of the 3 book series A Long Road to Love, named Worst Week Ever.
Trent Lancaster spends one month without his Executive Assistant (or as his drivers refers to Carrie: 'Trent's brain, left hand, and right hand'.) He's had a miserable month without her at his side and to ensure it never happens again, he intends to marry this brilliant beauty. Only given all the times he's threatened to fire her, he's not sure she even likes him. However, the future of his company and his happiness depend upon him succeeding, so Trent begins a slow one week seduction, that happens to coincide with Carrie Hanson's Worst Week Ever when everything that can go wrong does so in hilarious form. (Hilarious to the reader, Carrie is not having much fun this week.)
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About The Author 


Liza O'Connor 
Liza lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small cessnas in NJ, hang glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer and dabbler in watercolors. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels. She loves to create interesting characters, set them loose, and scribe what happens.

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