New Release: The Test of Time

THE TEST OF TIME

by Nicole Zoltack

All that stands between Katia and finding the love of her life is the test of time.

Katia jumps at the chance to go to England with her best friend after Rose ditches her deadbeat boyfriend. While walking through the market, she spies a large mansion and recognizes the guy out front as her high school friend Tony. Just as they start to reconnect, Katia passes through times and lands in the arms of Lord Landon, who looks like Tony but certainly doesn’t act like him.

Soon, Katia learns that this 1815 is different from the one in history books. Trapped in a parallel world, Katia struggles to not fall for Landon but his charm proves too much for her. Just when she is about to confess her love for him, Katia travels through time yet again.

The course of love never did run smooth and if Katia can’t figure out and master the test of time, she’ll never see or friends again, or worse, never be reunited with Landon.

**** 

About the Author:

Nicole Zoltack loves to write in many genres, especially romance, whether fantasy, paranormal, or regency. When she’s not writing about knights, superheroes, or zombies, she loves to spend time with her loving husband and three energetic young boys. She enjoys riding horses (pretending they’re unicorns, of course!) and going to the PA Renaissance Faire, dressed in garb. She’ll also read anything she can get her hands on. Her current favorite TV show is The Walking Dead. To learn more about Nicole and her writing, visit http://NicoleZoltack.blogspot.com.

Available for purchase at:

Amazon US     Amazon UK     Smashwords     Kobo     Barnes & Noble     iTunes

Excerpt:

Katia Willgrave stared at the vendor's products. A blue silk scarf drew her attention, but the price the British salesman asked for was more than she could afford. Not if she wanted to be able to buy dinner tonight.

She glanced up. Most of the rest of her travel group had already made their way down the street, but still she dawdled, enjoying the sights and the sounds. She and her best friend had settled on this trip after Rose ditched her jerk wad of a boyfriend. Originally, Rose and Derek had planned it together.

His loss, my gain. She breathed in the fresh air. Some moisture hung in the air, but she did not mind, having spent a good deal of her childhood in Seattle. Then her father's job relocated their family to the East Coast.

But she did not want to think about her father right now, think about her own losses.

Rose was haggling with another vendor, and Katia smiled. If anyone knew how to get their way, it was Rose. She flipped her blond hair over her shoulder, and Katia snickered. The vendor didn't stand a chance. The pink tips of Rose's hair caught the last streaming remnants of sunlight.

After catching Derek hooting around, Rose had dragged Katia to the beauty parlor. In solidarity, Katia had the last inch of her almost black hair dyed a midnight blue. Only when the light caught her hair just right was the blue visible. She had expected to hate the color and figured she'd have it cut off in a week, but it had lasted a month now, and she often thought about dying it all to match.

Wouldn't Bob die if I did? Her boss was a stickler for everything. The editor-in-chief of the biggest newspaper in Philadelphia, he was no-nonsense and expected the same from his employees. I'm just glad he gave me the time off.

Her feet had continued walking as her mind wandered, and she reached the edge of the street. The rest of the group headed to the east, following their guide like lost sheep.

Feeling impulse, Katia moved to the west. The land stretched out here, into soft hills, and she just wanted to see the sights over the ridge. She'd keep the tour group in sight.

She reached the crest. A tall, mansion stood in the distance, majestic and awe-inspiring. Before Katia could grab her camera, a hand touched her arm. Rose, wearing new huge dangling earrings, sported a wide grin. "You wanna get lost?"

"Why not?" Katia smiled back. She had never felt more relaxed since she had come. Between the stress of deadlines and the incompetent nature of her staff—Bob liked to hire those with less qualifications to save a few bucks—Katia needed this as much as Rose did, albeit for different reasons.

"Find a hot English guy first," Rose reasoned, her grin growing wider.

"Like that guy you were chatting up at the café at lunch?"

They fell into step together as they rejoined the tail edge of the group. "Precisely. He's taking me out to dinner tonight. Henry." She all but swooned.

"You and your rebounds." Katia shook her head.

"Hey!" Rose knocked her hip into Katia's. "Okay, well, Derek had been a rebound. Maybe a rebound of a rebound is different. I mean, it's not like I want to marry the guy. Just hear him talk. Gotta love an accent."

Katia couldn't disagree there.

"Besides, you haven't gone out in forever yourself."

"I've gone out," Katia protested.

"I don't mean with me." Rose pursed her full, pink-painted lips. She had no problem getting guys to ask for her number or to buy her drinks. Katia, on the other hand, didn't. Work was all she had time for. Especially after…

Not now.

"Don't worry. I promise I won't eat dinner by myself since you're ditching me."

Rose's eyes took on a faraway look. "Henry… Remind me to ask him if he has a brother."

Katia laughed. Their tour guide shot them a "hurry up" look but they meandered, taking their time. What else was the point of a vacation? Their first time in Europe. They definitely wanted to take it all in.

Maybe after dinner, she could come back and snap a picture of that mansion. Ever since she was a little girl, she had always imagined she'd live in a place like that. Strange how similar the mansion resembled her dream one.

****

By the time dinner rolled around, and Rose had left for her date, looking like a model in a slick red dress and cute wedge sandals, Katia opted for a stroll by her lonesome. Their tour guide had repeated to them all endlessly not to stray from the group, but it would not be late for hours, and besides, this was England. Everyone spoke English. It wasn't as if she was in Germany or Spain. She'd be fine.

Her own sandals soon dug into her toes, and Katia untied them and carried them over her shoulder. Down into market she went and beyond, back to the same hill as before. The mansion crept into view like a castle floating above a mist. A fog had rolled in, making the mansion seem more dreamlike than before. With turrets and towers on either end, numerous windows, arches and flags, the building seemed too perfect to be real.

Mesmerized by its beauty, almost unaware of what she was doing, Katia moved toward the mansion. Despite the distance between them, she drew nearer far quicker than she would have thought. Rose bushes lined the paved walkway leading up to the front door, the grass trimmed short and impossibly green.

One perfect rose caught her gaze, and she bent down to sniff it. The floral scent filled her nose, and she closed her eyes, drinking it in.

"Can I help you?"

Broken from whatever trace had called her here, Katia jerked up and backward until she bumped into the twin bush on the other side of the walkway. A thorn snagged her skin. Not completely perfect after all.

"I…" She took in the man before her, his bare chest and heaving muscles. A bead of sweat eased down the ripples of his abs, and she forced her gaze up to his face. "Tony, is that you?"

Nearly impossible to recognize the scrawny, nerdy boy from high school as the man standing in front of her. A lot had happened since they graduated in six years.

"In the flesh." He glanced down at his bare chest, and a flush colored his cheeks. "What are you doing here, Katia?"

Knowing she couldn't return his question although she was dying to know why he was here—perhaps he works here—Katia gestured to the mansion. Up close, mansion did not seem to fit how massive the house was. "I wanted a closer look," she explained lamely.

He chuckled and ran a cloth over his face before draping it over one huge shoulder. "Want a tour?"

"I would love one."

Tony Wilson moved toward the front door, but she hesitated. "I had assumed you wanted a tour of the interior." He cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows raising, disappearing within his bushy brown hair.

In high school, he'd always sported a crew cut. This style, wild and crazy, just begging to be fixed, suited him quite well. Ugh, I'm going to turn into Rose at this rate.

She cleared her throat and stared at his mud-coated sneakers.

"What is it?" He crossed his arms, his muscles flexing with the simple movement. "You have that look in your eye."

"What look?"

"The 'I'm dying to ask a question' look." His chuckle was as warm and inviting as it had been in high school, and she joined in, just like old times. She had never had this flutter in her chest back then, though. Each year, she had had a different crush, but she had never fallen for her good old friend Tony.

Unable to hold back any longer, Katia burst out, "What are you doing here? What is this place? What have you been up to? Why didn't you go to our high school reunion last year? You never kept in touch like you said you would."

Tony laughed again. "Poke a hole in the dam and a flood of questions pour forth. Should've known better. I'm here because this…" He held out his arms. "…is mine."

Katia lifted her gaze from him to the mansion to the rose bushes to the lawn and back to Tony. "All of it?"

He nodded. "My grandparents lived here for years. There was some kind of mix up with the deed for a while and then my parents died and somehow, yeah, Philamore Mansion is mine."

"Wait, your parents died?" Curse her and her reporter mind for wanting to know every detail. She crossed the distance between them and placed her hand on his arm. Wow, rock hard biceps. "I am so sorry."

A veiled look crossed his eyes for a moment before disappearing. "So once the deed was changed to be in my name, I moved here. Wasn't making any name for myself with my screenplays anyhow. Too tough a business. Instead, I've been fixing up the place and working here and there, doing what I can." He nodded to the left, where a hole was dug. "Gonna plant a tree there, for shade. Far enough to not block direct view of the mansion. I'll plant another over there." Tony pointed to the right. "I forget what question was next."

Her mouth turned dry. How she wanted to open up to him, to share with him her own misery so that he didn't have to feel so alone, but she couldn't bring herself too. The hurt in his eyes had been so great as it was. She would not risk adding to it. "Our reunion."

But the pain returned to his blue eyes. "Too busy," he said, his voice clipped and curt. "Next."

"Wasn't a question so I'll rephrase. Why didn't you keep in touch after we graduated?"

"It takes two to keep in touch," he pointed out.

True. Oh so true. Katia could have called or texted or emailed. She was just as much to blame as he was. A lump formed in her chest, and she failed to rub it away. "I'm here with my college roommate, Rose. She's into sports medicine. A real fitness nut. Thought about being a fitness model but she likes chocolate a little too much."

Tony nodded politely. "And you? World famous reporter yet?"

"Have you read any of my articles?"

He shook his head. "Can't say I have. Not any that weren't under the heading Mount Holly High."

"Then I'm not world famous yet. I am a reporter though."

"Good for you. Now, about that tour…"

At that moment, Katia's stomach grumbled. Heat rose to her face, and she crossed her arms over her stomach, praying he hadn't heard it. Her mother used to say her stomach could wake the dead.

And of course, Tony heard it. His grin erased her discomfort. "I'm hungry too. First stop, the kitchen."

"No, no, I don't mean to impose."

That laugh again. So relaxing, the antithesis of his anguish. She'd do anything to keep him happy. "You marched on to private property but no, you didn't mean to impose." His gaze traveled over her body, noting her summer dress, her bare feet, and windblown hair. A strand blew into her face, and he caught it. Another gust of wind blew it out of his hand. "Blue," he noted, his voice colored with surprise.

"You like?"

"It suits you. Now, before you stomach demands substance again…"

She scowled.

He held out his arm for her to take. Once she did, he led her toward the house. "Don't act like this is the first time I've heard it. Come."

They passed pillars on their way to the front door, which creaked upon opening. A few boards groaned beneath their feet as they walked inside. Katia gasped. They were standing in a ballroom straight out of the days of old.

"My grandparents kept this floor in great condition. The others, not so much." He removed his sneakers and allowed her a few minutes to walk around, to see the various paintings up close, to take in the ornate crown molding, before moving past a curtain to a concealed hallway.

"I thought your grandparents lived in Manhattan."

"My father's parents did. This belonged to my mother's parents. I never met them. They hated planes, or so I was told."

Planes. Katia shuddered.

"Are you cold?" Tony entered the massive kitchen. The island in the center alone was a large as the kitchen Katia and Rose shared in their apartment back home. No, the island had to be larger. Despite being outfitted with a double oven, as well as one built into the island, and other modern commodities, even the kitchen had an old-time feel to it. "I can get you a coat."

"I'm fine." But she wasn't. Her mouth had grown so dry Niagara Falls could not moisten it. Her breathing grew short, and her vision spotted. She had attempted to sit onto one of the stools near the island, but she missed. Down she fell, and her head connected with the ground.

RELEASE DAY: Vivian Roycroft "Shenanigans in Berkeley Square"

 

Blurb:

The right man doesn’t know she’s alive. The wrong man’s out to change that.

Coralie Busche can only admire Kenneth Rainier from afar. He’s a most handsome philosopher of the Romantic movement and for months she’s eavesdropped on his conversations at the coffee house. If only she had the courage to join his debates… and perhaps more. Her feminine education of singing and sewing could be of no interest to such a man — but then that vexing rake, the Duke of Cumberland, brings her to Rainier’s attention and she can’t hide any longer.

Rainier has lived with his mercenary sisters for too long to suffer any illusions about women. They value money, position, and precedence, not life’s important things such as poetry or painting, and only very lucky men find true love. But when he notices Cumberland staring at a dark-eyed beauty hiding in the coffee house’s corner, Rainier is smitten. Perhaps there’s a chance he could be one of those lucky men.

Cinderella meets Romeo and Juliet with a gorgeous gown, an unusual ducal matchmaker with motives of his own, and two cynical, jealous sisters. With All Hallow’s Eve approaching, tempers flaring, and a duelist’s challenge thrown down, how can His Grace, the Scoundrel of Mayfair, teach some loving sense to two soaring sensibilities?

 

 

Author:

Vivian Roycroft is a pseudonym for historical fiction and adventure writer J. Gunnar Grey. And if she's not careful, her pseudonymous pseudonym will have its own pseudonym soon, too. Plus an e-reader, a yarn stash, an old Hermès hunt saddle, and a turtle sundae at Culver's.

You can find Vivian and her writing compadre, J.L. Salter, at their shared blog, www.TakeTwoOnRomance.Weebly.com, or follow her on Twitter as @VivianRoycroft.

 

 

 

Now available on
ღ Amazon ღ Barnes & Noble ღ Smashwords ღ

 

Excerpt:

 

Chapter One

 

Thursday, October 14, 1813

 

Strong sunlight poured between the pretentious columns fronting the Olympic Pavilion. Beneath the portico moved shadows not cast by the neoclassical architecture, shadows of completely the wrong shapes and sizes; and, when His Grace approached to a sufficient proximity, shadows creating noises both indiscreet and inappropriate for a public street. A flash of copper curls and a clashing maroon sleeve caught his eye, and surely only one couple in all of Mayfair would dare sport such an unfortunate combination of colors. Deliberately he clumped on the pavement, announcing his presence. The shadows whipped behind their sheltering column and the salacious noises ceased.

But as he passed, a calculated glance back proved his theory correct. Mrs. Beryl Fitzwilliam, née Wentworth, stood on her tiptoes and peered over her new husband’s shoulder. The Duke of Cumberland, His Grace, Ernst Anton Oldenburg, gave her a victorious grin; her bewitching green eyes lit with glee and she wrinkled her nose at him. Satisfied, he resumed his more usual manner of walking and continued on his way, permitting them to resume — well. Perhaps better not to pursue that thought.

Enchanting Beryl’s adventure was complete, her dreams now reality.

Leaving him free to acquire a new target.

Who unknowingly awaited his tender attentions within Trent’s coffee house, beyond the Temple Bar on Fleet Street, where he’d first laid siege to delicious Anne Kirkhoven, now Mrs. Frederick Shaw, a woman delighted with her husband’s literary success and essaying upon a few attempts of her own.

As His Grace crossed the coffee house’s threshold into its shadowy, happy clutter, a hush descended upon the crowded patrons, heads swiveling in tribute to his entrance. He’d long ago become accustomed to such moments and let his lips curl into a rogue’s smile in greeting, doffing his beaver, tucking it beneath his elbow, and tugging off his gloves.

There they sat, at a table near the yellow-curtained casement windows, three elegant gentlemen of the ton staring at his entrance. They all wore similar expressions of eyebrow-arching recognition, although George Anson’s little smile seemed tinged with a certain amount of relief, as well. Whatever topic they had under discussion, perhaps it was more beyond his reach than usual. Not that Anson was stupid, not at all; merely limited in his understanding of deeper subjects, such as anything beyond Goodwood, sporting life, and Gentleman Jackson’s saloon on Bond Street.

But his manners remained impeccable. “Well met, your grace. Won’t you join us?”

“It would be entirely my pleasure, Mr. Anson. Thank you.”

Surprise joined Anson’s relief. Well, if the subject was that deep, the invitation might be his first contribution to the discussion since sitting down.

They made room for him, Henry Culver and Kenneth Rainier scooting their chairs to the sides. Round-faced Trent brought a steaming pot and matching cup — his best, the ivory with blue and white flowers — sans any cream or sugar; only lesser mortals doctored Trent’s invigorating brew. Preparations complete, His Grace leaned back, cradling the cup, and inhaled the coffee’s essence. The aroma alone was sufficient to wake half the ton at dawn and keep them that way for days.

Deliberately, and with malice aforethought, His Grace stared even more pointedly than normal at Miss Coralie Busche, who hid in the shadows beside the dark paneling.

 

Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy: “The School Teacher's Scandal”

Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy:

 “The School Teacher's Scandal”

 

 

Released: 12 May 2014

 

 

Blurb:

Although times are hard in 1934, rural school teacher Alice Ettinger lands on her feet with a new job teaching in town. She boards with the local undertaker, a widower with two small children, but when tongues wag, scandal threatens!

                

About the Author:

Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy is a native of historic St. Joseph, Missouri and now makes her home in the beautiful Ozark Mountains. As a wife and mother to three children, she spends her days penning her stories, substitute teaching, gardening, cooking, and all the other daily duties. She has a BA degree in English and History from Missouri Southern State University and an AA degree from Crowder College. She has worked in broadcasting, education, and retail. Lee Ann is a member of Romance Writers of America, Missouri Writers Guild, and the Ozark Writers League. Her multiple works include full length novels, novellas, and short stories. Lee Ann has also contributed to more than two dozen anthologies including the popular Chicken Soup For The Soul series. She writes a weekly column for the local newspaper and writes several romance genres and subgenres.

 

 

Now available on

 ღ Amazon ღ Barnes & Nobel ღ Smashwords ღ

 

 

Excerpt:

May 1934

Her routine was as fixed as the constellations in the night sky. The moment the children's voices and laughter faded into the distance, Alice Faye Ettinger slipped out of her heavy pumps with a sigh of relief. Her shoes, handed down from her married sister in Springfield, refused to be broken in properly and rubbed her heels raw each day. Once the shoes were off, Alice pulled out the hairpins and let her braid fall free of its figure eight pattern and down her back. Then she undid her top button, the one so tight she often thought she wouldn't be able to draw the next breath. Sometimes she took time to heat water for a cup of tea and savored it before she put her shoes back on for the walk to the Richards', where she boarded during the school year. On the nights she knew in advance Mrs. Richards – Mollie – would serve cabbage, green lima beans, or stewed turnips, the three things she loathed the most, Alice ate some of the graham crackers she kept in the bottom drawer of her desk or a few saltines. Sometimes she opened a tin of sardines as a treat.

Since she'd spotted Mollie out in the garden early picking the first tender green beans and digging new potatoes, Alice knew what would be served so she didn't even make tea. After a quarter hour of hard earned solitude, she stuck her feet back into the pumps and began gathering her things. This late in the season, she didn't mind the mile and a quarter walk to the Richards' home through the greening fields and trees as long as she didn't linger until dusk.

With a sigh, she reached for her shoes. If she waited much longer, the shadows in the wooded areas would thicken into near darkness. At the same time she stood up, pumps in place on her feet, a car horn blared into the quiet.

"What in the world?" Alice said aloud as her fingers fumbled her top button back into place. She flipped her braid over one shoulder as the car, an old Model T, came into view. Although she didn't recognize the driver, she knew the passenger and tensed. The superintendent of rural schools usually made one visit a year, and his appearance now didn't bode well. Alice steeled herself as he walked through the door.

"Hello, Mr. Bartholomew," she said, her voice schooled to be calm and polite.

"Miss Ettinger," he replied and doffed his hat. "I've come on an errand, and it's not happy news, no, it's not."

Her heart fumbled a few beats. "Would you care to sit down?"

He waved his hand in dismissal. "No, thank you. It's best if I just state my business. As the rural superintendent, it's fallen to me to close some of the schools. With hard times making the rounds, I have to shut down schools with the fewest students. Harvest Moon School's numbers have declined steadily. Too many families have left to find work in the cities or to try their luck in California. When this school year ends in a few weeks, it's the end of this school. The remaining pupils will attend Spring Creek School, and I apologize but I won't be able to offer you another position. Your final pay will be mailed to your home address."

Alice stared at the man. As stunned as a bird who's just smacked into window glass and dropped to the ground, she remained wordless, something which seemed to increase his anxiety.

New Releases: "Pearl" and "Quilt"

Hi guys! We have two new releases for you guys this week! They are both fabulous and I hope you pick them up especially if you love sweet romances. (I'm sort of fangirling over Trevor from Pearl Valley! Read it and you'll understand... SWOON!)

Anyway, have a great weekend and check out the new books!

~Kelly

 

Anne Brown loves her job at The Stitching Post Quilt Shop in Grandville, Michigan, but she keeps a suitcase packed so she can leave at a moment's notice. Living under the radar, she longs for a normal life, but settles for listening to family stories told by the friendly ladies of the quilting club who meet at the shop on Tuesday evenings. When she meets Brad, the handsome band director of an area high school and his adorable daughter, Anne begins to hope for a happily ever after of her own. But someone has far different plans.

Brad Carmichael is juggling the demands of his job as band director at Rivertown High School with trying to be a better father to his daughter. When Brad is late picking Jennie up from a birthday party, the pretty young clerk from the local quilt shop comes to his rescue. Kind-hearted and talented, Anne becomes a vital part of his and Jennie’s lives. Until her past threatens to destroy their relationship.

 

$4.99

AMAZON

BARNES AND NOBLE

~*~*~

 

A town plagued by mysterious fires, and two people struggling to find peace.

Trevor Jacobs, ex-navy seal, lost his leg during a military excursion. Not only is he hampered by physical limitations, but he has to suffer the pitying stares of strangers whenever he ventures into the public eye.

Janie Dossett lost her mother to a fire ten years ago, and her life changed forever. Now she shies away from the public, secluding herself in the only place she feels comfortable, her hometown.

When Trevor Jacobs shows up searching for Jane Dossett, Janie doesn’t readily reveal herself. Trevor is seeking something from her, something she doesn’t think she can give.

 

$3.99

 

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

 

Contemporary Romance With Sweet Spice

Astraea Press has multiple subgenres of romance but also mystery, ya and middle grade. But one thing every book has is an author who creates with a voice signature to themselves. Delaney Diamond offers up her latest release of sweet with a spicy female lead and conflict that keeps the book moving. Check out Worth Waiting For

Fall Between The Pages Blog Hop Tour: Astraea Press Publishing House

We are so very excited to be participating in the Fall Between the Pages Blog Hop Tour. Before we get to the post and prizes we have to go over the rules first.

Tour Rules

1) HAVE FUN!!!

2) INVITE ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS!!! SPREAD THE WORD!!!

3) THIS TOUR STARTS: Monday, Sept 19, at Midnight (Arizona Time)

THIS TOUR ENDS: Monday, Sept 26, at Midnight (Arizona Time)

Winners will be drawn and posted Sept 27! ***

4) MEET AND MINGLE WITH ALL THE AUTHORS AND BOOK PAGES! EXPERIENCE A NEW PARTY DESTINATION AT EVERY STOP! PARTICIPATE IN EVERY BLOG CONTEST AND BE ENTERED FOR CHANCES TO WIN MULTIPLE PRIZES! EVERY BLOG VISITED IS ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY TO WIN!!

5) PARTICIPATION AT ALL BLOGS IS RECOMMENDED, BUT NOT REQUIRED. REMEMBER, THE MORE BLOGS YOU HOP, THE BETTER YOUR CHANCES OF WINNING PRIZES. EVERY AUTHOR AND BOOK PAGE IS WAITING TO MEET AND INTERACT WITH YOU, SO PLEASE BE SURE TO SHOW EVERYONE SOME LOVE!

6) DID I MENTION TO HAVE FUN? WHOO! HOO!! 


***Hosts have full discretion to choose an alternate winner in the event any winner fails to claim their prize(s) within 72 hours of their name being posted or after notification of win, whichever comes first. Anyone who participates in this blog hop tour is subject to these rules***

Now for the fun part..Fall and Books.

Autumn is an amazing time of year. Halloween, cooler weather, apples, pumpkins, and for your paranormal lovers the releases seem to kick out more in that genre this time of year. But all and all whenever we think about autumn at Astraea Press we think about books. Maybe it's back to school, maybe it's cooler nights, and shorter days that open up to reading by a fireplace or with a cup of cider. All we know is we love it. And what better way to celebrate that love than be giving away some of our amazing reading material.  

Before we can get to the prizes we have to go over the requirements. They aren't hard at all. 

1. First follow our blog and leave a comment or ask a question on this post. Make sure to leave your email so we know how to contact you if you win. 
2. Second go to our Facebook page here and like us and leave a comment letting us know.
3. Third go to our Twitter page here and follow us. 
4. Fourth Share the hop with your friends.

Time for Prizes 

1. First Place Winner will receive their choice of 6 Astraea Press eBooks, a shout out on our social media, in addition to a critique of the first three chapters of a manuscript
2. Second Place Winner will receive their choice of 4 Astraea Press eBooks.
3. Third Place Winner will receive their choice of 2 Astraea Press eBooks. 

Here are just a few of our titles to check out. Go here to get a head start of picking out your favorite books. 

A gunshot echoes thrusting Darby Lambert into a near death experience.  Inside the confines of an ambulance, she meets “the man in white light”.  He takes away the guilt, but makes her question everything. “You will see them,”  he whispers, as he catapults her back into the real world where she is plagued with dreams of demons, nurses, and rock stars. 

Why has He sent her back? Does she have the courage to rectify her sins? Given the chance, could you erase it all?

Fired with a determination to find the reason why the Moon affects his planet so badly, Berannes gains the magical skills to transport himself there. On misty, sparsely-populated Lume he discovers the sorcerer Tironsar, bent on completing his mysterious Lodestone, which may give him supreme domination over many worlds; and the lovely princess Falmorwy of the Far Galaxy, who is somehow involved in the sorcerer’s plan.

 Berannes finds his dreams of becoming a hero don’t always turn out the right way. The two “star-horses” may be allies, but they carelessly order him around; and dwarfish Dron and Lalmi also have a different agenda for him. Even his growing love for the princess brings him inner torment, as she insists on returning to the perils of the sorcerer’s Citadel on a quest for further information. And always he is conscious of the fact that time is running out—fast!

Michael Drake, a part-time private investigator and part-time jazz club owner, starts the day as he has many others, doing a favor for a friend. In doing so, he falls right into the middle of a torrid affair. As Michael tries to decide whether or not to tell his friend of his wife's indiscretion, she is murdered. Through no fault of his own, Michael is entangled in a murder plot that reaches back to his days in college. The problem lies in the fact that, in clearing himself, he may implicate the friend that he intended to help. That is only the beginning when murder and passion collide in a small south Louisiana town. When the true killer is revealed, Drake must deal with the consequences and the lives he helped destroy.

Don't Forget to go back Here and hit the other blog hops. Happy Hopping.

 

Writer or Story Teller by Iris Blobel

Writer or Storyteller?

“To be or not to be “ ..... Now I’m not here to tell you that there’s a difference. Quite honestly, I wouldn’t dare. I’m not Wikipedia. But in my humble opinion, yes there is one. See, when people come up to me and ask whether I’m an writer I’m always tempted to tell them I’m a storyteller.

Character Monday: Meet Amelia!

Today Amelia, the heroine of “Matching Wits With Venus”, has agreed to speak with me at The Saddle Ranch, a western-themed restaurant on Sunset Boulevard. Amelia is already seated at a booth against the wall when I arrive. As she stands to greet me, I see she’s wearing a white lace sweater over a tight black dress.

I love your sweater!

(Amelia blushes slightly.) Thanks. I got it at the Rose Bowl flea market. It was part of the trousseau of an old Hollywood star. At least that’s what the woman selling it told me. The white lace reminds me of a wedding dress.

After Amelia shakes hands with the manager, who has come over to our table to greet her and insists on introducing him to me, we resume our conversation.

Amelia, where do you live?

Here in West Hollywood, with my dog Petal, who’s a Maltese-Shih-Tzu.

Are you a native of this area?
Yes. My father is Gerard Coillard, the research scientist. Maybe you’ve heard of my mother, Stella Sweetwater? She was in a lot of movies in the 80’s.

What do you do for a living?

(As Amelia smiles I see a slight dimple in her right cheek.) I’m a matchmaker.

So it’s true, you are the Amelia of “Happily Ever After by Amelia”?

(Amelia nods and offers me the fruit platter the manager has sent to our table.) People are always surprised that anyone would want to be a matchmaker, especially in Hollywood, where a lot of marriages have a shorter shelf life than a tub of cream cheese. But that’s the challenge.

Do people really want to find a soul mate?

Everyone is looking for love. I just show them how to find the perfect partner.

What’s the best part of your job?

The wedding invitations. Well, that and the baby announcements.

Learn more about Amelia in “Matching Wits With Venus”.

For centuries Cupid has longed to be more than Venus’s arrow boy.  When he’s sent to eliminate “Happily Ever After by Amelia”, the matchmaking business threatening Venus’s status as the goddess of love, Cupid decides to steal Amelia’s methods and make his own matches.  While spying on Amelia, Cupid accidentally shoots himself with his magical arrow and falls in love with her.  But bereaved Amelia doesn’t believe in the existence of Roman gods, and she’s certainly not looking for romance.  She’s too busy perfecting the patented personality profile that’s made her Hollywood’s favorite matchmaker.

Disguising himself as a mortal financial advisor, Cupid manages to break through Amelia’s guarded exterior.  As their passion deepens so does Cupid’s guilt about deceiving Amelia.  Cupid’s interference with Amelia’s life causes her business to falter, leads to a sterile spring that threatens the animal kingdom and shatters the longstanding peace between the Roman and Greek gods.  With the fate of the natural and under worlds at stake, Cupid must decide whether to reveal his true identity and risk losing the chance to live happily ever after with Amelia.