Hello all! Today I have Beverley Bateman visiting with her book, The Fourth Victim. She shares a little story of a practical joke someone pulled on her. Something that would certainly freak me out!!!!!
Like others, I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of something humorous that has happened in my life, and I may have written about it. But I write romantic suspense and usually kill people I don’t like. Then I remembered when I was back in nurses training and lived in residence. We had a curfew with lights out at that time. However, I knew how to sneak in to residence through a basement door from the hospital. (Not that I did this very often) I was late one night, and it was lights out. I snuck up to my room on the sixth floor and down the corridor to my room, in the dark. I opened the door and reached inside to turn on the lights. I let out a shriek when I touched a cold, clammy hand.
My ‘wonderful’ classmates in the rooms around me opened their doors and laughed and chuckled. I untied the rubber glove filled with cold water they’d hung over the light switch. Thank heavens it was on the sixth floor and our night supervisor didn’t hear me. It was a good joke on me and I was very careful when I sneaked in late after that. But no, this hasn’t showed up in any of my stories.
Oh my gosh! I can only imagine the things running through your mind on that! LOL
Tell us about your story!
Sara’s emotionally abusive husband dies unexpectedly. She’s struggling to reclaim the intelligent, independent person she was before she married. She vows never to let a man take over her life again. Now she’s part of a special team, training to help other women.
Mac is has been responsible for training women in special ops techniques so they are prepared when they are challenged to save other women. When he meets Sara, sparks fly between them. He wants her to quit the training and let him take care of her.
Sara graduates and now she and her team have to save Sara’s daughter from a serial killer. Can Mac step back and trust her in a dangerous situation? Can Sara and Mac resolve their issues, or will they go in opposite directions?
18 months earlier
The office said he’d had a heart attack. Was he alive? Did she want him to be? What if her husband had to stay home for a few weeks to recuperate? Palms sweating, Sara’s breath came in short, shallow bursts at the thought.
The taxi jerked to a stop in front of the hospital emergency entrance.
Sara fumbled through her purse and counted out her meager number of dollar bills. Gordon didn’t allow her to have a credit card and he only allowed her to have a small amount of cash. She didn’t have enough money to pay the taxi.
“I’m so sorry. I left home without any cash. I…I… Would you take a check?” Tears spilled over and trickled down her flushed cheeks.
The driver spun around. A short stubby finger waved at the sign over the rearview mirror. “Look lady, it says right there—No Checks.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. My husbands had a heart attack and I… I don’t know what to do.” Sara ran her fingers through her hair and scrunched the tight bun at her neck.
The driver shook his head. “Aw, shit. Go ahead, lady. Write the check.”
Sara pulled the single crumpled check Gordon allowed her carry for emergencies out of her purse. When she touched the check a vision of Gordon floated in front of her.
She froze and rapidly blinked her eyes. She only saw the ghosts of dead people. Gordon didn’t believe her and forbid her to ever mention it.
Could he really be dead?
“Gordon?” she whispered.
“Lady, are you writing that check or not?”
“Yes, sorry.” Sara scribbled her signature on the bottom of the check. “Please, fill it in, and give yourself a generous tip. Thank you, thank you so much.” She clutched her worn purse to her chest, slid out of the cab, and scurried through the emergency room doors.
What if he was dead? She didn’t have any money. Gordon did all the finances and never shared anything with her. How would she manage?
Twenty years ago, she could have handled it. Could she do it again? But he couldn’t be dead. Gordon would never allow that to happen.
His face flitted in front of her, fixed in an angry glare.
He had to be dead or she wouldn’t be seeing him. He didn’t want to be dead. He didn’t want her to be free. If he thought she could see him he’d be furious.
Sara shuffled toward the reception desk. She glanced over her shoulder, searching for some sign of Gordon, listening for his voice, waiting for him to yell at her. She couldn’t believe he was really dead, even though she had seen him. She clung to the edge of the transition counter, her head down, chewed on her lower lip and waited to be noticed.
Finally, a brusque voice snapped, “Can I help you?”
Sara looked up to see a heavy set, older woman in a loose blue top. The woman’s thick dark brows met in a v in the middle of her forehead.
“I’m sorry, I… I’m looking for my husband. His office phoned to say he’d been brought here.” Sara shrunk into her body.
“Name?” the woman commanded.
“Gordon, Gordon Peters.” Sara stared at her worn black oxfords, then at the scuffed, gray linoleum with the red, blue and yellow lines that led to different areas. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Maybe she should have waited for Gordon to call and tell her whether she should be here or not. But if he was dead she would have to make her own decisions. Her pulse raced. Her head pounded. For the last nineteen years she had never made a decision. Gordon made all of them for her.
“When was he admitted?” The woman reminded Sara of a sergeant major.
“I’m not sure, less than an hour ago. They told me to meet him here. Maybe he’s been discharged already?” She chewed her thumbnail. If Gordon had been discharged, he’d be furious at her for spending all that money on a taxi. But she’d seen his ghost.
Tension twisted her stomach into knots. The pain caused her to clutch her purse tightly against her abdomen. She needed to get home and start dinner. She’d have to take a bus. Did she have enough money? She opened her purse.
The woman moved to a second pile of folders and pulled one out. “You’re his wife?”
Sara nodded. “Yes. Can I see him?”
A sob slipped out. If she didn’t find see him soon, he’d be furious. He’d think she was too stupid to even find him in a hospital and he’d be right.
His ghost floated in front of her. This time confusion mixed with his anger
“Have a seat, Mrs. Peters. I’ll have the doctor speak to you.” The sergeant major’s voice softened. She indicated a chair near the desk.
“No, please, I need to see him right away. He’ll be upset if I’m late.”
The woman rounded the desk and laid her hand on Sara’s shoulder. She squeezed gently for a second. “It’ll be okay, honey. You just sit down for a minute. The doctor will be right out.”
Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-fourth-victim-saras-story-beverley-bateman/1129787236;jsessionid=DCE3DC6D307F1874CC82403A3F744C44.prodny_store01-atgap02?ean=294015575173
How intriguing. I think I'll go and get me a copy of the book!
What can we find out about Beverley Bateman?
Murder, mystery and romance fills award-winning, Canadian author, Beverley Bateman's life. She loves to plot, kill and hopefully baffle the reader. Her nursing and public health nursing background helps with some details and administering a community care facility program had her investigating and directing investigations into irregularities and sometimes a death. She even has court experience.
She began writing in her preteens and loved to write locked room mysteries. Reading Nancy Drew helped her figure out plots. Facing breast cancer, she decided she needed to do what she’d always wanted and began to write. She completed her first romantic suspense novel and hasn’t stopped writing since. She recently moved and now lives among ranches and wheat fields in southern Alberta, with her husband and Shiba Inu dog.
Facebook Authorpage - http://www.facebook.com/AuthorBeverleyBateman?ref=hl
Amazon author page http://www.amazon.com/Beverley-Bateman/e/B008M01F5E
BLOG - http://beverleybateman.blogspot.ca/
Triberr blog http://beverleybateman.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default?alt=rss
LinkedIn - email@example.com https://www.linkedin.com/in/beverleybateman/
tumblr - darkwriter.tumblr.com
Beverley Bateman and her latest release The Fourth Victim are guests on https://www.constancebretes.com/connies-blog #MFRWAuthors #Newrelease
Check out The Fourth Victim and the secret Foundation at https://www.constancebretes.com/connies-blog #MFRWAuthors #Newrelease #Romanticsuspense
The Fourth Victim, a secret organization and a serial killer check it out at https://www.constancebretes.com/connies-blog #MFRWAuthor #Newrelease
Thank you so much for stopping by, Beverley. I hope you have great success with your book.
If you are visiting, please leave us a comment and let us know you've stopped by, we love to hear from our readers!
Please welcome Kate McKeever to my blog today with her book, Sinner's Redemption. She shares an interesting tidbit about her DIY project that is sure to bring a chuckle...
I’ve always been an independent being. My mother said my first sentence was “Me do it,” and I’ve been insisting on doing things myself for ever since. And, yes, it’s definitely gotten me in trouble.
When I think of examples of the above, I come up with way too many but one that stands out in my mind is the time I bought drainage pipe. If you’ve ever done any work on your yard or house, you’re probably familiar with the flexible plastic pipe that is buried in the ground and connects to either a larger drainage pipe or the guttering of your house. It serves a wonderful purpose, that of making sure your yard doesn’t become a welcome wagon for mosquitos, mold and contractors who have to drain your basement.
I had such a back yard. When I bought my first house, a new construction with a small retaining wall at the back of the patio, I realized quickly that, with any rainfall, the runoff settled in my back yard, making it a squishy, sloshy mess until the sun dried it up. I, being a frugal, responsible home owner and above mentioned independent woman, decided I’d forgo the handyman or contractor route and figure out the drainage problem myself.
I did well with the planning. Always do, it seems. It’s the execution that goes south for me. I compiled a list, headed to the nearest big box hardware store and purchased all the items necessary for my drainage project. However, I hadn’t counted on space. The space in my Toyota Corolla’s trunk, to be precise.
I’d purchased fifty feet of drainage pipe and it came neatly coiled and tied with plastic ties, so to be easily transported. And so it was, until I got to my car. I’d figured on a tight fit but not on the fact that the pipe was too fat, in its nicely tied bundle, to go in the trunk. So I, in my independent wisdom, untied it.
Yep, you guess it. The pipe proceeded to snake its way across my lane in the parking lot and back toward the store, as if missing momma. I ran after it, gathering it up in my arms and hustling it to my car. After all, if someone ran over the pipe, it wouldn’t take any water anywhere.
After trying to escape my car trunk several times, the snakey pipe finally got corralled when I crawled into the trunk, released the back seat lever and folded the back seat. I then threaded the pipe into the back seat and trunk and happily drove home with the pipe in. my rear view all the way.
And no, no one asked if they could help, but I provided quite a show for the early bird contractors in the parking lot.
I haven’t written this in a book, yet. But I have plans!
You probably didn't realize this, but there was probably a whole bunch of guys inside the store watching you. LOL
Tell us a little bit about Sinner's Redemption
About Sinner’s Redemption
Ex Seal sniper Cole “Sinner” Ramsey left the service when one mistake ended an innocent’s life. His job now, that of a rehabilitation counselor at the Brighter Days Ranch outside of Eagle Rock, Montana, keeps him busy and is fulfilling his desire to be of service. He’s put his past behind him. Or so he thinks until Vanessa “Van” Hastings shows up at the ranch with PTSD and memory loss after being held hostage in the middle east for weeks. As Cole tries to put his resentment of her part in his career ending mistake on the back burner, Van’s beauty, bravery and vulnerability make him rethink this woman’s purpose, both in his life and for her own. As Van recovers her memory, the couple realize more may be at stake than their affection for each other. Can they stay alive long enough to find out if love is possible for them?
Cole sighted the target in his night scope and sussed the situation. Too many people around the man now, he needed to wait until there would be no ancillary harm. The woods and brush around him provided cover, along with the ever-present vines. He ignored the trickling sweat pouring down his back, grateful for the band he’d tied on his forehead. It wicked the moisture from his face, keeping sweat out of his eyes. Cole stayed in place, waiting for interminable moments, patient. Watching.
“Sinner,” his commander’s voice hissed over his com unit and Cole clicked in reply. “You got em?”
“In my sights. Waiting for clutter.”
“Take em now, we gotta get the woman out.”
Cole stifled a curse and clicked in reply. He took a breath, centering his body and looked down his scope again. The hostage, a dark-haired woman dressed in dirty jeans and a stained t-shirt, stood alongside the target, her hands behind her. As he squeezed the trigger, Cole watched in slow motion as the woman bent over and pushed at the target with her shoulder. Cole corrected automatically and his second bullet found its home. He wasted a moment to see the results of his shots. Damn it! Instead of the one hit, he’d taken out two. And one of them an innocent.
He policed his area and silently pulled back as all hell broke loose in the encampment. As he ran through the South American forest, Cole tried to get the image of the fallen innocent out of his mind but the blank eyes stared back at him, accusatory, judging.
Cole strode across the snow-covered Montana ground, his hands plunged in his denim jacket pockets. Damn, it was cold and not even officially winter yet. He’d have to get something warmer if he planned on staying at the Brighter Days Ranch for any period of time.
He stomped up onto the porch and entered the main house, wiping his boots on the mat before greeting Hannah, the program head. “Hannah, you didn’t tell me my ass would be numb here.”
She glanced up from the pile of paper on a work-worn table and laughed. “You’re a big boy. You should have done your research on the ranch before agreeing to come work for me. You need a coat, not that dinky jacket.”
Her husband, Taz Davilla leaned against the kitchen counter, a mug in his hand. “After the hot spots you’re used to, I don’t doubt you’re freezing your balls off. Sorry, babe,” he glanced at Hannah and grinned. “The truth’s the truth.”
She shook her head and gestured toward the coffee pot. “Get something to drink and we’ll go over the cases we have.”
Cole ambled to the counter and filled a mug to the brim before taking a tongue scalding sip. He sighed and removed his jacket, hanging it on a hook and took a seat at the table. “You got an office, right?” At her nod, he continued, “Why work at the kitchen table?”
She tilted her head. “I love this room, always have. It’s more comfortable than the office.”
“And she can watch everything that’s going on from here,” Taz joked and kissed his wife on the cheek before straightening. “I need to check in with Hank, babe. I’ll see you later,”
She nodded and Cole waited as she watched her husband leave the room. “He still working for Hank?”
“He takes assignments near home,” she replied. “Neither of us want him to be traveling all over the world and Brotherhood Protectors is growing. He still likes to ‘keep his hand in’, as he says.”
“Better him than me,” Cole muttered and ignored the sharp look Hannah sent his way. He’d been out of the military four years and it hadn’t gotten any easier, dealing with the dreams and memories.
“Are you satisfied with counseling?”
He nodded, not offering any explanation. Rehab counseling suited him now.
“I’ve noticed you still do lots of PE and target practice.” She laid a file aside, face down and opened another, not meeting his gaze.
He shrugged, “I loved shooting targets as a kid. I guess that never goes away.” And paper targets didn’t bleed.
She didn’t question him further. Hannah was good like that. He nodded toward the files, “What do we have?”
She handed a couple files to him for review. “A couple amputees are coming in this week. One has been out of the military for a year and the other is just coming out. And we have a non-military case.”
He glanced up from the folder he’d been perusing. “You haven’t taken any non-military cases, have you? Not in the time I’ve been here, anyway.”
“We make exceptions now and then. This one was a special favor from the State Department.” She pushed the folder toward him. “An amnesia case, along with some trauma. You’ll be in charge, since her wounds are more emotional than physical.”
“She was a hostage,” Hannah murmured and Cole felt his pulse quicken. “She got out of the hospital last week.”
“Syria. Apparently, the extraction team took out a hornet’s nest of bad guys and they found her in the middle of it all. They didn’t even know she was there until they went in to clean up.”
Cole grunted an absent response as he surveyed the information. "Female, early thirties, undernourished, scars from probable beatings, no memories of her imprisonment. Diagnosis of PTSD."
“She’s from DC, worked as a reporter for one of the cable stations. Went on assignments all over the world. She’d been freelancing this past year, after the station let her go. That’s why no one knew where she was.”
“No one reported her missing?”
“Seems that she went on that assignments without letting anyone know her destination. Right now, she’s pretty subdued. And scared. She’s in cabin three.”
Cole finally looked at the name tab on the side of the chart. He didn’t spout expletives, didn’t throw the file across the room, didn’t even change his breathing. Inside, the name Vanessa Hastings made his blood run cold. The woman responsible for the ancillary death was his new assignment.
He stood and refilled the half full cup at the counter, taking precious moments to regain his composure. Vanessa Hastings had bad luck with hostage situations. His last assignment as a Seal sniper, to assist in her extraction from a drug encampment years before, resulted in a final casualty for which he couldn’t forgive himself. If she hadn’t shoved the target–. Damn. His head started splitting with an intense headache, radiating from his neck. He took a breath and turned to Hannah.
“Let me look over her file and I’ll pay her a visit. She okay with me being in the room alone with her?”
Hannah shook her head. “No, we’ll have one of the women counselors with her at first. And the initial meeting will be with her handler.”
“Handler? She that important?”
Hannah tilted her head in consideration. “I think the information she can’t remember is that important. This request came down from pretty high in the government. I couldn’t have refused without a good reason, even if I wanted to.”
He grunted. “The handler male or female?”
“Male. And there’s a secretary that accompanies him everywhere he goes.” Hannah smirked. “Between you and me, that secretary probably has a nine millimeter inside her jacket."
Cole nodded. So the handler had a body guard. Did that mean Ms. Hastings needed one too?
Available at Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Sinners-Redemption-Brotherhood-Protectors-World-ebook/dp/B07K89LSBD/
I've always liked stories that have military heros. This sounds really intriguing and I look forward to reading it.
Let's find out a little about Kate McKeever.
Kate McKeever was born and raised in the south and spent her childhood rambling in the woods and reading, often at the same time. She spent a lot of time in libraries as a volunteer and reader, then as a perennial student, so her mother thought. She tried several careers before settling down on her current one. Writing is a passion and joy. Kate loves to write sweet and spicy contemporary and paranormal romances.
Thank you, Kate, for stopping by and sharing your story.
I hope you all enjoyed today's blog, and please, leave a comment and let us know you stopped by. We love to hear from our readers.
Please welcome back Barbara White Daille to my blog today. She shares a little experience she's had making Christmas ornaments, and her book, Snowbound with Mr. Wrong. Thank you, Barbara, for joining us!
Thank you to Connie for inviting me back to the blog!
I love the holidays and especially love decorating the Christmas tree and the house with all kinds of handmade ornaments. Uhh. . . handmade by other people, that is. LOL
A long time ago, I tried to get crafty at Christmastime. Really. At the time, I was a Brownie (the younger version of a Girl Scout) and our troop used to spend the November and December meetings getting ready for Christmas. Part of the prep involved making ornaments. Knitted snowmen. . . felt stockings cut out in fancy designs with the pieces hot-glued together. . . wreaths made of macaroni glued to paper plates and spray-painted. And everything I attempted turned into a disaster!
I’ve now passed along my unhappy experiences to Nick, the hero of my first Snowflake Valley book, Snowbound with Mr. Wrong. Nick is trapped in a mountain lodge with his ex and three unrelated kids. As you’ll see in the excerpt below, I put the icing on the cake. . . or should I say, the trimming on the tree?. . . by having the heroine rope Nick into making ornaments with her and the kids. :)
Thanks to my publisher, Snowbound with Mr. Wrong is on sale for 99 cents in e-book format at most etailers for the entire month of November. I hope you’ll check it out!
LOL, I remember those years when making ornaments with disastrous results! I've a feeling Nick is in for a surprise!
Worst. Day. Ever. After Lyssa Barnett’s sister tricks her into reprising her role at Snowflake Valley's annual children's party, she doesn’t think anything can be worse than squeezing into her too-small elf costume. Then tall, dark, and way too handsome Nick Tavlock shows up to play Santa…and an unexpected storm leaves them snowbound in the isolated lodge.
The last thing Nick wants is to spend a cozy Christmas Eve with a trio of kids and the woman who dumped him. But as much as Lyssa frustrates him, he can't stop thinking about her. And soon, he's fighting very un-Santa-like thoughts of kissing a certain sexy Miss Elf under the mistletoe. As Nick starts to fall for Lyssa all over again, he knows it will take nothing short of a miracle to have Lyssa in his arms on Christmas Day.
Lyssa sat on the floor in front of the coffee table sewing her own stocking, making tiny, even stitches invisible to him from this distance.
Nick stared down again at the table and the two fabric pieces meant for his stocking. He still had no plans to join in on this sewing bee. He had flunked basket-weaving at summer camp and botched every project planned during every weekend retreat his parents signed him up to attend.
But somehow his skill in threading a needle had branded him an expert, at least in Tommy’s eyes. The little boy sat next to him on the couch and showed him every stitch he made.
“Do you think Santa likes my stocking?” Tommy asked.
The kid emphasized the word, as if someone here had already insulted his work. “I’m sure he’ll like it. In fact, you’re doing such a great job, I think you should make my stocking, too.”
“But Santa doesn’t—” The boy cut himself off and put his head down over his work again.
Across the room, Mollie gave a huge, exasperated sigh.
Till this morning, the little girl had seemed inclined to stick by his side. Since they had all returned to the living room, she had sat apart from them in his former Santa chair, stabbing her stocking-shaped piece of fabric with her needle as if it were some kind of voodoo doll. He pitied the person she was picturing as her target.
“When we get back to civilization,” he said, “we’ll need to make a shopping trip.”
That caught Mollie’s attention, though she looked up without a word.
It caught Lyssa’s attention, too, judging by the way her hand holding the needle had frozen in midair. Already he could tell she was forming objections to his plan. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to please her.
“Shopping?” Tommy asked. “What can we buy?”
“Christmas presents for all your parents.”
“But I told…I told Santa I made a card.”
“And that’s very nice. But there’s no reason you can’t give your mom and dad a present, too.”
“We’ll make ornaments,” Lyssa said.
“Make how?” Tommy demanded. “And what’s a ormer…that thing you said?”
“It’s a decoration for your Christmas tree. We’ll make them with a very special recipe I have for clay. We use flour and salt and glue and food coloring. Just like you do in school with Miss Barnett, right, Mollie?”
The girl shrugged and stabbed her stocking again.
This time, Nick didn’t blame her. The thought of having to make a stocking had been bad enough. And now, this?
Lyssa was going to great lengths to keep the kids occupied. He had a sneaking suspicion her efforts were also aimed at making sure he and she didn’t get to spend any time alone. After last night, he couldn’t blame her.
Yet even the fresh wave of guilt he felt now couldn’t keep him from wanting her.
Amazon Canada: http://bit.ly/swmw-ca
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/swmw-bn
Entangled Publishing: http://bit.ly/swmw-pg
I will definitely have to get the book to find out how this goes......
Let's find out a little more about Barbara.
Barbara White Daille lives with her husband in the sunny Southwest. Though they love the warm winters and the lizards in their front yard, they haven’t gotten used to the scorpions in the bathroom. Barbara also loves writing, reading, and chocolate. Come to think of it, she enjoys writing about those subjects, too!
Barbara wrote her first short story at the age of nine, then typed "The End" to her first novel many years later...in the eighth grade. Now she's writing contemporary romance on a daily basis. Sign up for her newsletter to keep up with the latest in her writing life: https://barbarawhitedaille.com/newsletter.
And don’t forget to check out Snowbound with Mr. Wrong while it’s sale-priced at $.99 during November!
Social Media Links
Amazon author page http://www.amazon.com/Barbara-White-Daille/e/B002J6B0QQ
Harlequin author page https://www.harlequin.com/shop/authors/23759_barbara-white-daille.html
Entangled author page http://entangledpublishing.com/category/barbara-white-daille/
Thanks so much Barbara, for stopping by. I hope you have great success for your book.
If you're a visitor, please leave us a note and let us know you've stopped by. We love to hear from our readers!
Please welcome Mia Jo Celeste to my blog. She is sharing her book, "Other Than" a Gaslamp Fantasy/ Paranormal Historical Romance that certainly sounds intriguing. Let's see what she has to say....
A Rose is a Rose by Any Name, Right?
Like many authors I have a pen name. I like names. When I start a new story, I spend far too long picking out a perfect moniker for each character. I collect baby name books and frequent online sites for expectant moms. I never thought I’d be renaming myself, yet that’s exactly what happened.
Years ago, when I started taking Creative Writing classes at the community college, I kept my hobby a secret. Until my mother put a stop to it. At a family wedding my aunt asked me how I was keeping myself busy.
Not admitting to writing, I hemmed and hawed.
Then my mother jumped in, announcing loudly, “She’s writing a novel, but, of course, it’s under a pen name.”
My head jerked up. I hadn’t considered picking a pen name, but now that I was outted, I had to make it so. I chose Mia which means mine and Celeste which means heaven—my heaven, because I love creating stories. That’s heaven for me. Jo is my middle name and it helps me stand out from all the other Mia Celeste’s on Facebook and other online sites.
Names are interesting things. My friend was named Ozella in honor of the woman who gave her seat to my friend’s very pregnant mom on a crowded bus. As a kid she hated the name, but now she likes being a little unusual. How did you get your moniker? I’d love to hear your tale.
Names are interesting, aren't they? My real name is Constance, that was what my Mom wanted me to be called. When I got into kindergarten, everyone called me Connie. She spent a year battling it out with the teacher before she gave up and allowed everyone to call me Connie.
Other Than’s Blurb-
It only takes one drink from the Water of Immortality to kill Evie Woods—halfway. Trapped in undead flesh, the world’s last skin-slider wakens on an island purgatory where a cursed spring bubbles with immortality, and zombie cannibals crave living flesh.
Her only hope of escape rests in the hands of the one man who would see her fail. Bound to her by cords stronger than death, Lord Victor Lowell is both the man of her dreams, and her darkest nightmares. Contrary and intractable, Victor preys on others to maintain his angelic charisma and preternatural prowess. Drawn to the compellingly gallant and vulnerable soul behind his mercurial humors, Evie can only watch as protecting her forces Victor to sacrifice yet more of himself to the ancient evil long tethered to his soul.
Trapped in an ever-escalating war they can’t stop, Victor and Evie fight time for a cure, but as the long days pass blackness tears at Evie, ripping her thoughts from her one memory at a time. Victor will to do whatever it takes to prevent her from deteriorating into a rotting husk, even if it means dooming himself, but Evie won’t surrender his soul without a fight. Battle lines drawn, the soul mates resolve to find redemption or die trying.
He materialized in the inky shadow.
Or rather his apparition did. His ghostly frame hovered before her, sinuous and lithe. Against his shadowed form, the string glimmered like liquid silver. Slowly he unwrapped her, tossing the spectral bands to the floor until a coil lay between him and her.
Something inside her chest fluttered. “You followed me.”
He nodded. With a slight shrug, he spread his hands. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
She wanted to turn, giving him her back, but her betraying gaze remained fixated upon him. When he paced around her, she waved him away. “Don’t.”
He caught her hand and placed an insubstantial kiss in her palm. “Let me help you…please.”
A gallant gesture, perhaps, but her skin-slider sensitivity noted the rigidity of his stance, the twitch along his jaw, and the slight narrowing of his eyes. How could he think of helping her when he was in so much pain?
Ordinarily, she might be grateful. Might…if loss hadn’t hollowed her.
She ripped her cooling flesh from his spectral arms. “I don’t deserve kindness.”
“Good.” He gave her a rakish smirk. “Because I’m not kind.”
She shook her head, biting back the emerging smile that had no place on her countenance. She couldn’t be civil, couldn’t risk the involvement. “I can’t go on like this—stuck betwixt life and death.”
“You must. Don’t you see, sweet dove? You’re beyond both. You’re immortal. Like me.”
This sounds so intriguing, I think I'll add it to my TBR list! Thank you for sharing your book. Le's see what we can find out about Mia!
Author Bio- Mia Jo Celeste comes from a family of writers and English teachers, so it was no surprise when she chose to pursue both careers. She grew up watching horror movies and reading romances. To her, the two genres go together like salty and sweet in kettle corn.
Amazon author page amazon.com/author/miaceleste
Facebook fb.me/ Mia.Jo.Celeste
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B01N9JGDVI
Thank you, Mia, for stopping by, and I hope you have great success with your story.
If you're a visitor here, please leave us a comment and let us know you've stopped by. We writers really love to hear from our readers!
Hello everyone! Today I have Janie Franz visiting my blog with her book, Ruins Legacy. She shares a humorous event that ended in one of her books, The Neighbor. Let's find out what happened....
As I was trying to think of a humorous story to share that made it into my books, I was straining my brain. I write with some humor on occasion but it’s usually the stray observation that’s colored by black humor. But I did shake through the cobwebs and remembered one incident in my horror short, The Neighbor.
My husband at the time and I had retired to the bedroom on lazy Sunday afternoon to read. We’d do that because we could stretch out and perhaps doze after a time. We were settled all comfy, propped up against the pillows, with our books in hand when through the bedroom wall we heard our neighbors having a romantic afternoon delight. The noises the guy made were loud and trumpeting. He sounded like a moose or an elk!
We looked at each other and started to laugh. But since we didn’t want to be heard, we started to stuff an end of the comforter over our mouths. But it was too much as we listened and saw at how silly we both looked. We finally fled to the bathroom and shut the door so we could let out long belly laughs.
Our neighbor, poor guy, was forever dubbed Moose Call when we talked of him.
That incident did make its way into that creepy story.
A couple of my other books do have a humorous scene or two. Sugar Magnolia has a couple. Those characters are so out there it was fun to write them. And my latest book Ruins Legacy does have some warm circumstances that brought a smile was I wrote them
Of course, there was a scene in Ruins Artifacts where the heroine sticks a fork into her husband’s jeans-clad thigh (no harm to him except maybe a bruise) when she’d gotten tired of his posturing. It never happened in real life to me, but it was a scene I relished writing.
Oh my gosh. Moose Call? That is hysterical! LOL.
Tell us a little bit about your book, Ruins Legacy.
Anthropology grad student Kate Ferguson stumbles upon desert ruins, ancient rituals, and psychic gifts, as she finds herself the target of a power struggle—a struggle that has always led to death and disaster for any woman attracted to Paul Rodriguez. Dark secrets lurk around Paul, locked in the shaman stone he wears, leading to murder, danger, and temptation to prevent Kate and Paul from unraveling one ancient mystery after another as they trek around the world. The journey reveals disturbing answers and hidden secrets about Paul and a dark legacy for Paul’s heir.
Kate Ferguson’s life is crumbling around her as she is shoved out of her ten-year-old son’s life as he prepares for his testing to be the next shaman. Relegated to babysitting a pregnant woman she doesn’t even know in an unfamiliar place, she is bombarded by her son’s growing abilities and her own, dark secrets, strange revelations, spiritual trials, and an intriguing female ranch hand who challenges everything she knows.
The book is still on special at all of these locations:
MuseItUp Publishing (You can get all formats here in one download.):
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ruins-legacy-janie-franz/1128841982?ean=2940155562153
If you live in Australia, you can get the book at Angus & Robertson:
This sounds very intriguing. I look forward to reading it.
Let's find out about Janie.
Janie Franz comes from a long line of liars and storytellers with deep roots in East Tennessee. Her anthropology degree is a refection of her wide curiosity. She is an author, a professional speaker, the US acquisition editor and a content editor for MuseItUp Publishing, an academic editor, ghostwriter, and reviewer. Previously, she published an online music publication (Refrain Magazine) and was an agent/publicist for a groove/funk band, a radio announcer, a yoga/relaxation instructor, a music festival publicist, and private chef. She is the author of twelve titles with MUSE, a freelance writing manual, co-author of two wedding how-to books, and a self-help book. Refrain, Book 2 of The Lost Song trilogy, was a Top 10 Finisher, Best Sci-Fi/Fantasy, 2013 Preditors & Editors Reader Poll. She lives in Santa Fe where she writes fantasy, archaeology thrillers, paranormal, and contemporaries—and can be found on a dancefloor.
Thank you, Janie, for stopping by today and sharing your book, Ruins Legacy. I hope you have great success with the book.
If you are a visitor, please leave us a comment that you've stopped by and let us know. We love to hear from our readers.
Hello all. Today I have Kryssie Fortune back with her new release, Marriage Mobsters and the Marine. Before we get into the details of the book, she's here to share a little something about herself, horror films and her kittie.
I’ve always had cats. I love their independence. Mickie, a black and white moggy who used to ride on my shoulder, once scared me to death.
Let me make it clear – I don’t like horror films.
So why was I watching The Happening late at night?
Because my husband turned it on, and it sucked me in.
Our room has louvre doors that hang from the top.
The on-screen tension mounted.
I held my breath
Then something banged behind me.
I leaped to my feet. My heart beat like a steam hammer.
I was so terrified I could barely breath. Were those mutant plants attacking me? How had they got in? And where could I run
Bang. Bang. The louvre door was moving. Lifting at the bottom. Something wanted in, but not as much as I wanted out.
My husband simply slid the louvre door open and let my cat through
OMG, that's hysterical. I've had a few moments when I've heard things that scared the bijeeves out of me.
Tell us about your book!
This exciting Christmas romance in on sale for 99c between 2nd and 5th of November only.
Or read for free in Kindle Unlimited
Grab your copy today
Amazon.com buy link -https://www.amazon.com/Marriage-Mobsters-Marine-Heroes-Westhorpe-ebook/dp/B07DYZPF4C
Christmas sucks. No family. No tree. No decorations.
Abigail Montgomery lives for her regular visit to Masked Nights BDSM club. Thanks to her great-aunt’s will, she needs to abandon her spanking lifestyle and find a husband—fast.
Desperate, she advertises for a husband.
Jared Armstrong, a former, Marine, cold-blooded sniper, and occasional Dom, needs $125,000. Without it, Mobsters will murder his family. His solution – marry Abigail for her money.
Jared plans to hunt down the mobsters then reimburse Abigail. Together they face extortion, a kidnapping, and an attempted murder. Along the way, Jared steals Abigail’s heart, but she’d promised him a divorce after two years.
Will Jared walk away? Or can he work some Christmas magic and make their relationship real?
A stand-alone romance and Book One of the Heroes of Westhorpe Ridge Trilogy
Rising to his feet, he held out his hand. “Jared Armstrong. Pleased to meet you.”
He towered over her diminutive frame, six-feet-six to her five-feet-four. She studied him a moment, reached out, and shook his hand briefly. “Abigail’s enough for now.”
He sat back in his seat, forcing himself to appear relaxed. “Okay.”
He regretted not pulling her chair out and seating her, but she was a prospective employer, not his date. A good thing too, since she didn’t seem to have an ounce of vanity or dress sense. He sipped at his water and waited for her to speak.
Blushing, she sucked on her lower lip. “This is awkward. Can I ask you some questions?”
He nodded. “I don’t guarantee answering them, but ask away.”
God, he wished she’d get on with it, but she studied the unopened menu as though her life depended on it. Finally, she lifted her head. “Are you married?”
His eyes narrowed. “Your advert said no ties. I’m single, HIV free, and I don’t screw anyone for cash.”
She choked on her drink, coughing and splattering water over the table. Jared watched and waited, unwilling to make it easier for her when she was the one who placed the advert.
Across the table from him, Abigail curled her hands into fists and laid them on her lap. Her smile faded and her voice trembled. “Will you marry me?”
“Are you pregnant?” he shot back.
Her cheeks turned scarlet. “No. In fact, I came on my period two days ago. But I do need a husband. I know I’m not what you imagined in a wife, but I’m willing to pay a $75,000 advance as well as house, feed, and clothe you for two years. After that, I’ll pay you another $150,000 when we divorce.”
He stared at her intently, trying to decide if she needed therapy—or perhaps a few weeks in the local insane asylum. “You’re serious?”
She took a sip of mineral water. “I am.”
His eyes narrowed, and his forehead furrowed in anger. “I’ll feed and clothe myself. Can I still put time in with my business, or should I get a job local to where you live?”
When she finally smiled, it felt as though the sun had come out on a cloudy day.
Putting her glass on the table, she took looked anywhere but at him. “I’m glad you want to do so. In fact, it’s one of the reasons I chose you. You have values and goals. All I have is an insane great-aunt, or I did until recently.”
“Tell me about it,” he demanded.
This sounds like an exciting book, I think I'll add to my TBR list. Thanks so much for sharing a scene from the story. So, what can we find out about Kryssie?
About Kryssie Fortune
Kryssie Fortune writes the sort of hot sexy books she loves to read. If she can sneak a dragon into her paranormal books she will. Her paranormal heroes are muscular werewolves, arrogant Fae, or BDSM loving dragons.
Kryssie likes her contemporary heroes ex-military and dominant. Her heroines are kick ass females who can hold their own against whatever life - or Kryssie - throws at them.
Kryssie's pet hates are unhappy endings, and a series that end on a cliff hanger.
Her books are all stand alone even when part of series. Plot always comes before sex, but when her heroines and heroes get together, the sex is explosive and explicit. One review called it downright sensual.
Kryssie loves to hear from her readers.
You can contact her here
Amazon Author Page http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO
Thank you, Kryssie, for stopping by and sharing your book with us. I hope you have great success with it.
For our visitors, please leave a comment that you've stopped by. We love to hear from our readers!
Today I have Seelie Kay on my blog with her new release, Snatching Dianna. First she shares a little tale about her sister when they were young.
When I was a little girl, my little sister kept telling us she didn’t believe in Santa Claus. We didn’t know how or why she felt that way, but she was pretty vocal about it. At the time, my other siblings still believed, as did I. We kept telling her that if she didn’t believe, she wasn’t going to get any gifts. Her disbelief culminated in an encounter with a street corner Santa. She walked up to him, kicked him, and called him “an old phony.” That Christmas, we awoke to gifts under the tree and clamored to get to them. Amidst all the unwrapping, my sister sat quietly with one gift. She opened it slowly, then let out a scream. Inside was a roll of toilet paper with a note. It said, “Dear Jeannie, you have to believe.” To this day, my sister will not admit that Santa does not exist!
"Oh my. That little trick did it, huh? LOL. Tell us about your new release.
The hours are counting down as investigators try to prove that Dianna Murphy has been snatched. Unfortunately, without witnesses and solid evidence, all the police really know is that she is missing.
When suburban Milwaukee law student Dianna Murphy fails to connect with her roommate, there is no real evidence that she has been snatched. Until Law Professor Janet MacLachlan, a former covert agent, discovers a single clue, one that points to a taking by a slave trafficking cartel. In a race against time, Janet recruits her husband, secret agent Cade Matthews, small-town Police Chief David Manders and his wife, criminal defense attorney Julianna Constant, and other law students to uncover the truth. Can they prove she has been taken, before Dianna disappears without a trace?
Romantic Suspense (Three Flames)
After what seemed like hours in the sweltering van, it lurched to a stop.
Dianna heard a man bark orders. A door to the van opened and someone pulled the rope from her feet, then removed her hood. She took a deep breath. A man grabbed her by the arm, forced to her feet, and pulled from the van. Dianna stumbled when she hit the ground. The stones were hot and her feet were covered by athletic socks, no shoes. Show no weakness.
Dianna immediately surveyed her surroundings. It was still night, but she was in a well-lit courtyard. A large stone mansion stood in front of her. She looked to her right, then her left. The courtyard was enclosed by a large stone fence, at least eight feet high. A fortress. Fortunately, Dianna was a rock-climber. She could rappel over the fence with the right equipment. All she would need was something to serve as a pick, maybe a rope. A knife, a screwdriver, even a fork. Keep your eyes and ears open. Be ready.
A large black man, dressed in a white suit and a maroon turban, walked out of the front door and down the stairs. He stopped and flashed a malevolent smile. He flung his arms wide and in a cultured baritone boomed, “Welcome to paradise, ladies. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
Some of the guards laughed.
“Crikey,” Tillie muttered. “Sounds like a blasted genie.”
Dianna glanced sideways and for the first time, got a look at her new friend. She was tall and thin, her body well defined. She looked strong and aware, almost fierce. Her eyes seemed to be studying the place, taking everything in. She showed no fear. Instead, she seemed interested. Something was off. Tillie did not act like a victim as the others did. She was not cowed. Was she a cop? Or like Dianna, someone who would not permit themselves to be broken?
There was only one thing of which Dianna was certain. She had found a friend. A useful one.
Barnes and Noble: Coming soon
Oohh this sounds so suspenseful, looks like I'll be adding this to my TBR list. Let's find out more about Seelie Kay.
About Seelie Kay:
Seelie Kay is a nom de plume for a writer, editor, and author with more than 30 years of experience in law, journalism, marketing, and public relations. When she writes about love and lust in the legal world, something kinky is bound to happen! In possession of a wicked pen and an overly inquisitive mind, Ms. Kay is the author of multiple works of fiction, including the Kinky Briefs series, The Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, and The President’s Wife.
When not spinning her kinky tales, Ms. Kay ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. She resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she shares a home with her son and enjoys opera, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.
Ms. Kay is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!
Twitter: @SeelieKay https://twitter.com/SeelieKay
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Seelie-Kay/e/B074RDRWNZ/
Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing your new release, Seelie. I hope you have great success with it.
Please leave a comment if you are visiting and let us know you stopped by. We love to hear from our readers!
Hello all, please welcome Lyncee Shillard to my blog today. She shares a funny event that happened to her at a haunted house! YIKES!
Thanks Connie for having me!
Here is a funny Halloween story from my teens. I’ve never written it into a book but there is always the next one ;-)
When I was sixteen, I went to a haunt house with friends. Not a real haunted house but one of the sponsored by an organization haunt house. As we are riding down, the kids I was with were telling ghost stories about the marsh that is just outside the town I lived in.
There were swamp monsters, zombies, cannibal hermits, and crazy women who found life in our stories about that marsh.
This was the first haunted house I had been to, so I wasn’t sure what to expect…
We entered the haunted house (aka a vacant store space in the mall). The first room was filled with form and sand. I lost my sandal – I know who wears slip on sandal in October in Michigan to a haunted house? A 16-year-old who wants to look good – in the ‘sinking sand.’ I’m bent over trying to get my sandal back.
Some guy in a crazed lumberjack serial killer get-up comes up to me and nudges me. I’ve had numerous people tell me that he was trying to get me to move along afraid I was trying to destroy something. Whatever.
I tell him to leave me alone. He PICKS ME UP! (I was small) I scream. He has to from the marsh. He’s going to take me to the marsh and do horrible things to me. I scream some more.
A guy comes in with his daughter. This is my chance to free myself. Screaming, I grab the guy’s shirt and scream ‘help’. Really loudly. The guy smiles. He tells me I’m a really good actress.
Lumberjack serial killer tightens his hold. I cry. Just as I’m sure my future is going to have a torture room in the marsh, my friends return.
I scream – some more. They laugh but tell lumberjack serial killer that they will take me off his hands.
Lumberjack serial killer releases me and I run out of the haunted house leaving my favorite super cute slip on sandal. My friends all tell me I that I have over reacted. He wasn’t a crazed lumberjack serial killer for the marsh.
Friends, what do they know? I was so NOT over reacting!
Now I’m all about Halloween… and of course murder…and well doughnuts…and vodka.
My newest book – Murder and Treats – is a novella about all those things!
My favorite Halloween doughnut trick is…insert vamp teeth into a sugar doughnut. Drizzle red frosting for blood, or have gummy worms crawling out of the mouth, or decorate with gummy boogers.
My favorite Halloween drink is the Wicked Witch… it’s caramel vodka, apple vodka, and whip cream vodka all equal parts mixed with apple cider. Sooo good and so wicked.
Lila Maxwell is coaxed into attending All Treats, a Halloween speed dating event by her best friend. Instead of the soul mate promised one Halloween ghoul after another appears at her door until Cowboy Bill.
Jax Carlson has spent the last year focusing all of his attention on starting his own business. Hiring Lila Maxell over the Internet as his project manager was the final piece to his prefect plan. Set to open for business in three days, Jax plans on spending a couple of days on his boat relaxing. However, his friend Erik has a different idea – a speed dating Halloween party.
Jax has spent the night plotting the best revenge possible for Erik until Sally opens the door. The woman dressed in the pale lavender Harem costume ignites a fire that Jax thought was impossible without the aid of his formulated dating list.
After a night of mind-blowing sex, Lila sneaks out before they exchange real names believing it was no more than a one-night stand.
Lila's first day is full of surprises, the biggest being Cowboy Bill is actually her new boss, Jax Carlson. She thinks keeping her hormones in check while convincing Jax that love doesn't follow a formula is complication enough until she learns the participants of the All Treats speed dating event are being killed.
And just a peek…
Walking into her bedroom, Lila froze mid-stride. On her bed was a knife coated with blood and small plastic number five. The glass slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, spraying her foot and leg with red wine.
Murder and Treats is available at
Come and hang out with me... we will talk about doughnuts and vodka...
Blog : https://lynceeshillard.wordpress.com
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Lyncee-Shillard/e/B007WGBKYK/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1534257851&sr=8-1
Thank you, Lyncee, for stopping by and hope you have wonderful results with your Halloween release!
Please leave a comment and let us know you've stopped by. We love to hear from our readers.
Until next time
Today, I'm having my first holiday visitor, Angela Drake, with her new release, An Ozarks Christmas. Let's discover Angela's thoughts on using real versus created settings....
WHEN THE SETTING REALLY DOES EXIST
By Angela Drake
An Ozarks Christmas is the first book in my Planned to Perfection series and is set in the heart of the beautiful Ozark Mountains. Eureka Springs Arkansas is a quaint Victorian-themed tourist town. Decades ago, people came from all over the world for their healing springs. I have to tell you, that still today just driving into town puts me in total relaxation. I have the feeling of having come home.
Known as a stair-step town, many of the buildings built over one hundred years ago still house gift shops, restaurants and hotels. One of the most haunted hotels in the country, The 1886 Crescent Hotel stays booked year round and is where I set the opening scene for this book. There are steep winding streets, cobblestone walkways, stone walls and trolley cars to help you navigate all the nooks and crannies. There’s usually live music from traveling musicians in Basin Park. Every weekend is like a festival and there’s always something going on.
When setting this series in Eureka Springs, I was concerned about using actual places, such as the famed Crescent Hotel, in my book. Most places are public domain. As long as you are not going to say anything bad about a place, or persons, you should be okay. Most will recognize the free advertising you’re providing. I knew I’d be okay with a sweet romance. Would I have done the same if writing erotica, or even any hint at racy? No. I don’t want to offend anyone. Shine a bright, positive spotlight and let business owners know ahead of time you plan to feature their establishment. Most are thrilled. If they aren’t keen on the idea, change the name of the establishment. Make the place your own.
Whatever setting you choose, make the place come alive for your reader. Take them on the vacation of their dreams and they’ll love you.
To find out more about Eureka Springs, visit https://www.eurekasprings.org/
I tend to do the same as you suggested, Angela. If I can't use a setting positively, then I change the names and descriptions.
Tell us a little bit about An Ozarks Christmas.
From the moment he sees Stephanie across the crowded restaurant, Brendan Keane knows he has to have her… and does. Unaware that four years later, their lives would take different paths and Stephanie will marry someone else.
After the murder of her husband, Stephanie Douglas takes her two children and moves to the Ozarks, carrying with her a secret she’s harbored for ten years.
When Stephanie’s company, ’Planned to Perfection’, is called upon to plan his daughter’s wedding, Brendan’s back in her life. And this time Stephanie fears she won’t be able to tell him good-bye.
“May I join you?”
So much for wishes. Her heart felt as if a beat had skipped then fluttered back to life. She knew without looking the voice belonged to Brendan Keane – entertainer, playboy and thief. Focusing on her wish, she hadn’t heard him open nor close the ballroom door as he came outside.
Glancing to her left she could see the tall, strong frame of the man she couldn’t forget. The man who had stolen her heart so long ago.
“Of course.” She struggled to keep her voice even. She wanted to tell him to go away. Not just from the hotel but from the close-knit community she called home. She hadn’t wanted him here from the beginning but her ultimate goal for the event to be a success over-ruled. This fundraiser would insure that every child in Eureka Springs and the surrounding area would receive a visit from Santa Claus. Being the biggest draw in the music business, Brendan Keane would make that possible. The fact he had volunteered to perform was a big boost to the benefit’s bottom line.
“I’m sorry if I intruded.”
An apology? In all their time together she’d never heard him apologize for anything – and he’d had plenty of occasions.
“Not at all. I need to go back in anyway.” She hated that her voice shook. His mere presence shouldn’t be affecting her.
Amazon USA - https://amzn.to/2pItaXG
Sooo intriguing, I've got to add this to my TBR Holiday reads!
So Angela, what can we find out about you?
Angela Drake believes in happy endings, the magic of ‘what if’ and second chances. When not living vicariously through her characters, Angela spends her day working social media accounts for musicians and authors. She enjoys time with her granddaughters, gardening, journaling, and a myriad of artistic pursuits. She shares a home in the Ozarks with her husband, two dogs and three cats. She loves networking with readers and writers through her Facebook, twitter Instagram and blog.
It's great to have you on my blog today, Angela, and I hope you have great success with your story.
Readers, please leave us a comment and let us know you've stopped by. We authors are sometimes a lonely bunch when writing, and love to hear from our readers.
Today I have Liese Sherwood-Fabre visiting my blog with her book, Virtual Harmony and Other Short Sweet Romances. Before we read about these intriguing titles, let's hear what she has to say about the practical jokster in her life....
Life with a Practical Joker
My husband is a practical joker. He comes by it naturally. When he and his siblings would drive to the beach as children, his father would tell them to lick the back of their hands. “Can you taste the salt? We’re near the ocean now.” (That they were sweating in the back of an un-air-conditioned car never occurred to them.)
This proclivity appeared early in our relationship. On one date, a waiter placed a plate with two round orange slices next to each of us. I cut a section with my fork, but before I could spear it, my date (now husband of 37 years) told me, “Don’t eat that. It’s a decoration.”
I argued with him but left the cut piece on the plate. When the waiter arrived again, he asked him, “Is this a decoration?” I must have turned to our server because I’m certain behind my back, he signaled the waiter to go along with the gag. The man nodded and said, “Yes, don’t eat it.”
With the server’s assertion, I pushed the piece back into place and waited for our meal. After a minute my husband chuckled and said, “You can eat it. I was just pulling your leg.”
While this particular incident hasn’t appeared in a story, it is not above some of my characters to pull off a ruse—like being in disguise in front of the one person they’ve wanted to get to know better. Misunderstandings can sometimes be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
I too, live with a practical jokster and I also have a step-son who likes to do practical jokes from time to time. Especially around my birthday.....
Tell us a little about your book, Virtual Harmony and Other Short, Sweet Romances.
Love can bloom in infinite ways.
Virtual Harmony and Other Short, Sweet Romances shares eleven tales of love through cute meets to taking friendship to the next level to rekindling a marriage. Feelings can be sparked by an errant computer file, a hunt for diamonds, or even a fortune teller's tale. All that is needed is to open one's heart to let them in. Search, find, and deepen love along the way in these sweet romances.
From "Virtual Harmony":
I slumped into an empty chair at the coffee bar around the corner from my apartment. I was ending this foolishness. Now. For two weeks I’d been on a wild goose chase and gotten nowhere.
Time to give up.
It’d all started innocently enough. After plugging in my new MP3 player, and booting up my computer to download my playlist, my finger froze just above the mouse. An unfamiliar file folder appeared along with the others: "George's Songs."
Who was George, and how did he get on my computer?
Having moved into the neighborhood less than a month ago, I didn’t know anyone in the area, and no one had access to my computer. Another new icon appeared at the bottom of my screen and blinked on and off. My new wireless system was working. I returned my gaze to the “George’s Songs” icon. Somehow, my computer's system had picked up this George’s file and downloaded it to my machine.
Curiosity won out over caution, and without thinking twice, I opened the file to check out his playlist. Almost the entire list of songs I’d planned to download onto my MP3 player were already in George’s.
Whoever he was, George had good tastes.
Available for PREORDER through Barnes and Nobles | Kobo | iBooks
Available at these sites and Amazon on October 15
This sounds really intriguing and I think I'll just have to get my hands on this book!
Let's find out a little about Liese.
Liese Sherwood-Fabre, knew she was destined to write when she got an A+ in the second grade for her story about Dick, Jane, and Sally’s ruined picnic. After obtaining her PhD from Indiana University, she joined the federal government and had the opportunity to work and live internationally for more than fifteen years—in Africa, Latin America, and Russia. Returning to the states, she seriously pursued her writing career and has published various pieces. Her debut novel Saving Hope, a thriller set in Russia was based, in part, from her observations while in that country. Along the way she has written and published a number of short stories, garnering awards such a Pushcart Prize nomination. She recently collected eleven of these tales into a volume: Virtual Harmony and Other Short, Sweet Romances, available October 15.
Find out more about Liese's stories at
It is nice to meet you, Liese, and I hope you have great success with your book.
If you are a visitor, please leave us a comment and let us know you've stopped by. We're lonely writers and we love to hear from our readers.
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