New Release: New Beginnings - Iris Blobel

 

 

 

 New Beginnings

by Iris Blobel

 

Tagline:

To believe in new beginnings is to trust in tomorrow

Blurb:

Twenty-two-year-old Sophie Levesque has been guardian to eight-year-old
sister Mia since their mother’s death a few years ago. Luck comes their way when they inherit a small house in Hobart. Problem is, though, they don’t know or have even heard of Clara Bellinger, the testator, and Sophie is afraid it’s all been a mistake.

As Mia settles well into her new school and life in general, Sophie is not only occupied by her search of what connected her to Clara, but also her new studies and the two men, who suddenly have become part of her daily life - Mark O’Connor, the lawyer representing Clara’s estate, and Zach, the hunk from across the road.

 

 

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Sophie stared at the attorney, waiting for some answers. She and her sister, Mia, had been quietly sitting in Mr. O’Connor’s office for more than half an hour, and had learnt about the details of their inheritance.

"Who?"

"Clara Catherine Bellinger."

"Who is she?" Mia asked.

Startled by the subtle sound of the clock chiming across the road, Sophie’s gaze turned to the window, where she saw the post office building across the road. It looked impressive and old. Surely, an old place like this would have its own ghosts — after all, Hobart was renowned for its lively spirits.

Her younger sister’s gentle touch on her arm reminded her she hadn’t answered the question, yet. "I wouldn’t have a clue." Sophie shrugged and focused her attention back on Mr. O’Connor. Although hearing his words, she still found it hard to comprehend. Here she was in this old office, furnished with heavy antique oak furniture, the curtains in a pretty shade of aubergine, and the carpet beneath her shoes thick and warm in a matching shade.

"I believe she was a distant relative of yours. I’m afraid I don’t have any further details," he replied.

Sophie arched an eyebrow in disbelief. Was he serious? What kind of lawyer was he? Sure, Tasmania was at the very end of Australia, but wouldn’t they have the same education? With a slight shrug of her shoulder, she asked, "Why not?"

He stared at her. "Pardon me?"

Sitting up straight, she repeated, "Why not? Why aren’t there any further details?"

He looked uneasy, but she didn’t care. She needed to know. Sophie had received a call from the lawyer a week earlier, and he’d told her about an inheritance. He’d given her details on where to pick up tickets to Hobart. Some legality, he had said. She needed to come in and sign documents for the transfer of ownership.

"Ms. Bellinger was one of the partner’s clients. I was only given the details shortly after the client’s death."

Sophie drew in her lips. Her eyes darted over to the window as she took a few deep breaths, inwardly calming herself. Nothing had ever been easy in her life. "Why isn’t the partner here?"

He took a deep breath. "Retired."

As she pondered on that for a moment, she began to think about what life could be like with this inheritance. Different. Better. Another sigh escaped as she returned her gaze to the man behind the desk. "You can’t just leave your assets to just anybody, can you?"



"Miss Lever—"

"Levesque," she helped him.

Their eyes met.

"Are you refusing the bequest?" he asked hesitantly, and she clearly noticed how one of his eyebrows arched upward.

Staring blankly with her mouth open, she could feel the panic running through her veins with every thump of her erratic heartbeat. An uncomfortable silence fell over them for a moment. Then she quickly said, "No. No, of course not. We’re accepting." She turned to look at her younger sister. "We’re actually looking forward to seeing it."

And with one swift movement, he stood and went to a little cupboard near the window and retrieved a bunch of keys. "Would you like me to take you there?"

Still feeling that rush within her, Sophie took Mia’s hand and inclined her head in answer. "Is it far?" Her voice sounded tired. Even to herself. It had been a long day already. She stood and thinking how tired she was, Sophie placed her arm around Mia, who was probably exhausted.

"No, not at all. Five to ten minute drive, I’d say."

"I still don’t understand. Why us?" Sophie asked quietly, meeting his gaze and, for the first time, actually taking in his icy-blue eyes. He was very attractive. Too attractive for a boring lawyer. His face was tanned by wind and sun, and there always seemed to be a hint of a smile on his face. His blond curling hair was cut short. Her gaze fixed back on his mouth. Blushing, she quickly looked away.


The attorney turned to them. He scratched the back of his head. "Ma’am, what I know is that both of you are in the will. What I know is that I was supposed to fly you down here to officially read you the will. What I know is that I’m supposed to hand over the keys to you, and to let you know that your expenses are covered for the next twenty-four months. I did not know Ms. Bellinger, as one of the retired partners wrote up the will. I do not know who she was or in which way she was connected to you. I assumed she was a distant relative."

Sophie took her sister’s hand as she thought about his last comment. Distant relative? Her mother would have at least mentioned her once. She sighed and tried to understand, not the circumstances that had brought her there, but the fact that the attorney just didn’t know. "Oh well, let’s go then."

He pinched his nose with his thumb and index finger and took a deep breath. "Okay. Look, Miss Lever—"

"Levesque," Sophie helped him again. This time somewhat more firmly.

Running his thumb over his eyebrow, he stepped closer, but not so close as to be intimidating. "I’m sorry. It’s been one extraordinary week," he said with his voice just above a whisper. "Once I get back I’ll check with the partners here to see whether anybody knows more about it."

One extraordinary week? His remark irked her. In fact it was downright annoying. Holding Mia even closer to her side, she lifted her finger and pointed at him. "No offence, Mr. O’Connor, but it has been quite a week for us as well, and I was prepared to answer all your questions. I have one simple question, and you don’t know. Wouldn’t there be something in the file?" Sophie was a kind person.



Kindness was her middle name, but she wouldn’t have got that far in life if she hadn’t watched some of those nasty actresses on television and copied them. And the stare. Sophie met his surprised frown dead-on.

He frowned and seemed taken aback by her words. "No offence taken." And then he let out a deep breath. "You’re right. I apologise. As I said, I’ll find out details and let you know."

"Thank you, Mr. O’Connor," she replied as she blew out a breath.

"What about our stuff?" Mia whispered to Sophie.

Sophie moved her head to look down at her sister, but before she had a chance to say anything, he beat her to it. "What stuff?" he asked as he opened the door.

"Considering what we inherited here, we brought all our things," Sophie explained without looking at him.

The attorney stopped in his tracks. "All, as in all your clothes?"

Sophie’s eyes met his. She emitted a small sigh, but tried to keep her composure. It was something she had learnt over the last few years. Standing straight, she corrected him. "All, as in all our belongings."

They stepped outside the building and followed Mr. O’Connor with their suitcases. Two teenage boys walked past them, eager to get the attention of some girls across the road. Aware of the attention, the girls covered their mouths with their hands and broke into giggles. Sophie’s stomach churned. So many things she had missed out on in life. But it was going to be better from now on, she reminded herself, and straightened up as she followed Mr. O’Connor.

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Excerpt: Dangerous To Know - Nell Dixon

Jerome Mayer is tall, dark and dangerous to know. Normally Gemma would run a mile, but with a freshly broken heart maybe it’s time for this good girl to take a walk on the wild side. However the danger to them both turns out to be more than just emotional when someone objects to their attempts to uncover a corrupt land deal.

“Dangerous to know.”

Nathalie’s words about her elder brother, Jerome, resonated in Gemma’s mind.

“Strawberries taste better when they’re dipped in chocolate.” Jerome suggested and dangled one near her mouth.

Gemma licked her lips, a gesture that was purely automatic. It felt very warm inside Nathalie’s sitting room and she struggled to draw enough air into her lungs.

Why had she decided the best way to get over being dumped yet again was to boost her confidence by flirting with Jerome? The corners of his deep blue eyes crinkled and she knew he found her naïve attempts at flirtation amusing.

Gemma leaned forward and took the fruit from his fingers with her teeth. She chewed and swallowed as Jerome’s pupils darkened in the soft light from a nearby lamp.

"You’re right. It makes all the difference.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded husky.

He smiled and her heart skipped a beat. “Well, there’s more if you want some.” His fingertips were coated in melted chocolate from the fountain that stood in the centre of the platter of fresh fruit.

His words held the unmistakable note of challenge. Gemma sucked in air. This was not a good idea. She was in too deep. She tried not to stare at his fingers or imagine the taste of his skin. Phew, she felt hot…

“Gemma, Tali says could you come and be on the photo she’s taking?”

Gemma blinked and tore her eyes away from Jerome. Polly, Nathalie’s little stepdaughter, stood waiting in her pink party dress.

“Of course, where is she?”

“She’s in the hall. She said to get you as well, Uncle Jerome.”

“Lead the way then, princess.” Jerome wiped his hands on a napkin and leaned forward to murmur, “Later,” in Gemma’s ear. His words fell soft and intimate on her hot face and her heart rate quickened.

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New Release: Two-Room Flat - Jill Urbach

Blurb: Spicy fiction made novelist Claire Gissler a star, but she can’t pen a sentence to save her life since her husband’s accidental death two years ago. Now, deeply in debt, her only hope of reviving her crumbling career is to flee small town America for big city London. Trouble is, she can’t afford the move. That is, not until handsome Adam Lambright — her husband’s best friend and the man she blames for his death — offers to let her stay in his flat… with him.

Adam Lambright used to know how to smile, how to have fun, how to love, but that was before watching his best friend die and his wife wither away from cancer. Now, ticked off at God, he’s vowed never to love again. That doesn’t mean he can’t help out his best friend’s widow. Heck, her life’s more of a mess than his own.

Seeing no other possible option, Claire moves to London. In that exciting city, she faces the challenges of rebuilding her career — and the attentions of her sexy English publicist. But, it’s her growing feelings for Adam that present the biggest challenge: learn to forgive or face heartbreak once again.

Excerpt: Chapter One
The irritatingly dramatic voice drowned out the squeal of the espresso machine.

"Claire Gissler! Where have you been hiding yourself?"

Sometimes she cursed the day she moved to a dinky Pacific Northwest island. Couldn’t she get a stinking cup of coffee without running into half the people she knew? Okay, one person. Just her luck for it to be the biggest mouth in town.

Claire dug a five-dollar bill out of her jeans pocket, slapped it on the counter in front of the teenage barista and grabbed her extra-hot vanilla latte. “Thanks, Tyler.”

“Take care, Mrs. G.” Tyler gave her a sympathetic smile from behind the register as she turned to leave.

“Hi, Bea. Sorry. I’m in a hurry.” She attempted to brush past the large woman.

No such luck. A simple shift of weight was all it took for Beatrice Atwell to block her exit.

“But I’ve got wonderful news.” Bea leaned in confidentially, although her volume didn’t alter a bit. Apparently she’d never learned the difference between inside and outside voices that any sane mother taught her children. “I’ve found someone for you.” She bared her teeth in what was probably supposed to be a smile.

“Excuse me?”

“A man. He’s taking over Dr. Wainright’s dental practice. I know several women who would love to meet him, but you’re at the top of my list.” Bea looked like she couldn’t have a more perfect gift if she had been Santa Claus himself.

The nerve of the woman! Who did she think she was, throwing random men at her — as if anyone could take the place of Mark? Claire narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. "I’m not looking to be set up.”

Bea placed a fleshy hand on Claire’s shoulder. “It’s time, dear. And he’s perfect!”

Time? As if there were a limit on how long one could be alone? She bit back an angry retort and tried again. "I don’t date dentists."

"Nonsense. It’s a perfectly good profession. And I hear he’ll be offering Botox." Bea had the gall to point to the creases between Claire’s eyes. Creases that were getting deeper by the second. It was time to try a new strategy.

“Botox? That’s fascinating!” Claire’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I wonder if he’ll do it for free if I sleep with him? After all, it works for the plumber, the eye doctor, and my lawn boy.”

Bea’s bright pink mouth fell open. Good. That shut her up. Then the single clink of a teacup settling into a saucer alerted Claire to the general silence that had descended on the rest of the patrons. She looked around to find several pairs of eyes resting on her. Most faces wore expressions of shock or disbelief, with the exception of one man leering at her through a grizzled beard, hastily pulling out a business card.

So much for snappy comebacks. When would she learn to just bite her tongue?

Her cell phone rang. Thank heavens. Saved by the bell, for once. She grabbed her cell phone from the pocket of her fleece jacket and buried her attention in it while she made a hasty exit from the coffee shop.

“Hello?”

“Well it’s about time you answer your phone.” Flo Liebowitz was her agent. Claire had been avoiding her calls for a week.

She stifled a groan. “Sorry, Flo. I’ve been busy.”

“Writing, I hope.”

She didn’t bother answering. They both knew that wasn’t the case.

“I’ve got bad news.” Flo never beat around the bush.

“What is it?”

“They’ve dropped you.”

And with those simple words, on a rain-soaked sidewalk overlooking the marina, her career ended.

“Claire?”

“I heard you.” She sank onto a nearby bench and immediately regretted it. She’d have a cold, wet butt on her mile-long walk home. She sighed deeply.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen Flo’s news coming. Her publisher had been threatening to drop her for several months unless she presented him with a new manuscript for her Hetty Graham series. She’d tried, she really had. But without Mark in her life, the words just wouldn’t come.

“What about Emily? Won’t she fight for me?”

“Emily left to have her kid. You’ve got a new editor. And he thinks Hetty’s finished.” To her credit, Flo’s voice softened, as much as her voice ever did. “One more thing.”

“I’m not sure I can take one more thing right now.”

“Understandable. But I have to tell you.”

“What?”

“They want their advance back.”

One hundred thousand dollars. She closed her eyes. How on earth was she going to pay that back? Unbidden, the stack of unpaid bills on her desk at home came to mind. Claire shook her head and opened her eyes. She couldn’t think about that now. She’d figure out how to pay that back another day.

“I’m sorry, Flo.” Brash though she was, Flo had stuck with her during these last two years of creative destitution. Claire hated to disappoint her.

“We’ll figure it out, hon.” The sympathy in Flo's voice made Claire’s heart swell with affection in spite of the bad news she was delivering. This woman had been there for her in her time of need.

“Now that I’ve dished out the bad, I’ve got good news for you, too.” Flo’s brisk tone meant she was back to business.

“I’ll take any good news I can get.”

“A London publisher is picking up the series.”

“Really? Someone’s finally taken us up on the foreign rights?”

“Yep. They want to publish in August.”

“Well, that’s something.” Claire cradled her coffee to keep herself warm while the sun struggled to shove aside the oppressive March cloud cover. Not likely. The words “sun” and “March” simply didn’t go together in the little island town of Friday Harbor.

“There's one condition.” Were those Flo’s acrylic nails she heard tapping on her desk over the airwaves?

“What?”

“They insist you do a book tour.”

“In London?”

The gloom that shrouded Claire started to lift. She hadn’t visited London since college. It was one of her favorite cities. One that, sadly, she’d never experienced with Mark. They’d always planned to go, even talked about renting a place there once Anna went off to college. But that hadn’t happened. And now it never would.

Still, it was London. Claire almost smiled. “I could use an all-expense paid trip to London.”

“You’ll be lucky if I can get them to cover your airfare. I wouldn’t count on much more.”

“But, it’s work.”

“Everyone’s cutting costs these days, and you’re in no position to demand much.”

“Well, how on earth am I supposed to do that?” Claire sprang off the bench and stormed down the sidewalk in her frustration, paying no attention to where she was headed. “I’m broke. I have a daughter in college, remember? My credit cards are maxed out. I… oomph—”

She collided with a broad male chest.


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New Release: In Shadows of Magic - Alison F. Prince

Mandy McKinney lives the charmed life. She is beautiful, athletic, popular, dating the hottest jock in school, and certainly doesn't have any time for her loser twin sister. But Mandy also has a secret. When the truth is unveiled, her world is twisted upside down, and her very life is at stake.


Mandy's twin sister, Brianna, has never had any success in the dating department. When Brianna finally meets the guy of her dreams, it turns out that he has secrets of his own. Dangerous secrets. Just her luck.

The twins are about to be swept away into a world of beauty and power beyond their wildest imaginations where nothing is what is seems, danger is lurking in the shadows, and their only chance of survival is finding themselves, and each other, once again.

Brianna's eyes felt as big as saucers. "What's it like?"

Jared took a deep breath. "It's like…magic. I'd rather show you than tell you."

She hesitated. "I don't know."

"Do you trust me?" Brianna searched his eyes and was captured by his gaze.

"Yes." She meant it.

"Then come with me."

The air beside her began to glimmer, every shade of every color emerging in the black of the night. An immense oval of colorful lights were suspended in midair, as if thousands of glowing gems had been melded together. Jared took her hand. "Come inside," he said.

Brianna took a deep breath and then stepped into the sparkles.

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Excerpt: Be My Hero - Nell Dixon

Nathalie Mayer is thirty-four. On the surface she is an attractive, happy, single, successful woman running her own bridal business. Despite her line of work and her obvious delight in other people’s weddings, including that of her twin brother, Nate. Nathalie has always declared that a settled relationship is not for her. There has only ever been one man whom Nathalie felt she could love.

Evan Davies is back in town after a six year absence. Last time he was here, he and Nathalie had tentatively begun to take their friendship to a different level. Now he’s home again and has the reason for his sudden departure from six years ago with him – his daughter, Polly.

The shop bell jangled again and a delivery man came in with an enormous basket of dark red roses.

“Oh, aren’t those gorgeous!” Gemma and Karen exclaimed together.

“Delivery for a Miss Nathalie Mayer?” The man read from a clipboard he carried in his other hand.

“Tali, they’re for you,” Gemma breathed.

“Wow, you must have an admirer?” Karen’s face was alive with curiosity.

Nathalie quickly took the basket from the man. “Thank you.” She moved away and rested the flowers on the counter. Karen and Gemma crowded around as the delivery man left.

“Open the card,” Gemma urged.

“Who are they from?” Karen asked.

Nathalie’s hand trembled as she slid the small white card from the envelope, even though she already knew who they must be from.

“Evan!” Karen announced in a triumphant voice before Nathalie had a chance to hide the card from view.

Nathalie pushed the card into the pocket of her jacket. “Can you take these through into the back of the shop please, Gemma?”

Gemma looked puzzled. “I’ll put them in your office.”

“Just friends, hmm?” Karen queried.

“The flowers were a thank-you for something I’d given his daughter,” Nathalie fibbed. She didn’t want Karen to spread her private life all over town. Unfortunately, she had a feeling it might already be too late. Karen had drawn her own conclusions.

“Are you bringing him to my rehearsal dinner?” Karen asked.

“I told you, no. We aren’t on those kinds of terms.” Nathalie felt herself flush.

“Well, those flowers look to me like the kind a man sends to a woman when he wants to be on those sorts of terms.” Karen picked up her handbag ready to leave. “Dark red roses? Please. Those are the flowers a woman gets the morning after a night well-spent with a man.” She nudged Nathalie’s arm. “And you look as if you didn’t get much sleep last night.” She swept off out of the shop.

Excerpt: Fire & Ice - Michele Barrow-Belisle

Blurb: Adventure wasn't something Lorelei Alundra was interested in. Gifted with two otherworldly talents for singing and healing, she’s always shied away from her gifts and the spotlight, preferring quiet anonymity, over attention and fame. But when she meets the enigmatic Adrius, with his dark and dangerous mystique and eyes that could see into her soul, her uneventful life becomes irrevocably altered.

Adrius turns up in every one of her classes and knows more about her than any newcomer should. Including the condition of her mother who is suffering from a mysterious illness. Accepting his offer to help leads her into a terrifying and thrilling world, where Elves are even hotter than Legolas, and Faeries.... are nothing like Tinkerbell. The two magical beings are fire and ice opposites. One Lorelei can’t help falling for, and the other she's compelled to be with.

Now she’s trapped, expected to prevent a war between witches and faeries, or forfeit her mother’s life. Nothing is what it seems. Not her family. Not the Fey. Not even Adrius, whose feelings for her balance precariously between desire and danger. Despite her better judgment, she can’t say away from him.
As secrets unravel and unsettling truths are revealed, Lorelei must fight to save much more than her mother’s life. One mistake could put the fate of his world, and her soul in jeop-ardy.

But hey, no pressure… right.

I’d die for him. When all was said and done, that’s what it came down to. I would give my life in exchange for his. Only he was immortal, blessed with eternal life. —And I was the one who was dying. Even after everything we’d been through I still wasn’t sure what he’d be willing to give in exchange for my life.

Climbing out of bed, I wandered out to the courtyard, towards the south border of the Wyldewood Forest. Apparently, I’d been granted one last night to sleep in my room. Adrius had given the guards posted outside my door his assurance that I wouldn’t try to escape, although there was the unmistakable click of a lock when he closed the door. Even if it had occurred to me to use magic to free myself, I wouldn’t have known how. The powers I’d somehow summoned with Octăhvia had receded to some inaccessible place deep inside me.

The message that had arrived hours earlier was as short and curt as the messenger who’d delivered it. Golden scrawled parchment simply read ‘Meet me in the glen bordering the south forest before daybreak.’ I’d been awake ever since, too anxious to sleep.

Sunrise dragged. I wanted to see Adrius again; see that he was past the worst of whatever he was thinking. I wanted everything to go back to normal. Normal; that was funny. Nothing had ever been normal here. In truth, nothing in my life ever had been.

I waited for what seemed like an eternity, pacing an uneven groove in the dew-soaked grass. It wasn’t yet daybreak and the sky was still laced with Mediterranean hues. A soft breeze carried the fragrance of wild herbs. It caressed my skin and the tiny hairs on my arm stood on end. I didn’t have to turn around to know who was behind me.

Adrius. I would recognize the electricity of his presence blindfolded. He was surreally gorgeous. Even now as he regarded me with distant, unreadable eyes. He was aloof; not as angry as he’d been last night, but still not himself. He had sent for me and so of course, I came. And now here we were in the very place we’d been when I first arrived in Mythlandria so many weeks ago. There was a familiarity but also an unnerving strangeness. I didn’t like not knowing what to expect. Or what he was thinking. I attempted to use the Inner Eye necklace to access his thoughts, but a seerer can see when he’s being read. And his mind was completely closed to me, leaving me in the dark.

“Follow me.” He said with a fleeting gaze.

I took a deep breath and I followed him, to what could possibly be my end. He was an Elven knight bound to his father’s will. And right now his will equaled me dead.

The thickness of the forest encircled us, swallowing us in its mist. Twigs snapped and crunched beneath our steps and occasionally his arm brushed mine, but he made no attempt to take my hand. Given the circumstances, it was pretty insane for me to hope that he might.

By the time the sunrise peeked through the trees, the silence had become deafening. It was clear I would have to be the one to break it if I wanted any answers. I didn’t like feeling so unsure about him. I knew what the curse could do, but I’d always felt comfortable. Safe. It was different now and I hated it.

“Where are we going?” I asked a little breathless from the quick pace he’d been keeping.

“Not much further.” He looked back at me. “Are you cold?”

I was doubly puzzled by his cryptic behavior. Wintry and detached one minute, worried about my comfort in the next.

I shook my head, suddenly aware I was shivering.

That was all he said before dropping into another uncomfortable stretch of silence. I realized he didn’t answer my question. It made me cringe to consider why.

Light dappled through the leaves. Something in the way the beam hit the ground reminded me of my mother. She’d always loved the play of sunlight. That was one of the reasons our house had been designed with so many large windows. My stomach twisted. I missed my mother. My house. My life. I had to go home... but, he could come with me. That was the best solution. We’d be far from his father, and Venus and the spell that bound his soul to hers and his mind to his father. Far from Zanthiel. We could pretend to be normal. Human. Finish school and then head off to college. Together. That was the plan. It could still work. We just had to get past this. If he could find the strength to spare my life, we’d be halfway there.

He glanced at me, his lips pressed in a thin line, and for a moment I wondered if he had been listening to my thoughts. Then I remembered the chain hanging from my neck, and the protective pendant blocking his access to my mind, tucked safely inside my dress.

We climbed uphill over thick coiled roots still sleeping on the forest floor, which confirmed how early it was; the trees weren’t even awake yet. Then he stopped so abruptly I nearly slammed into him. High above the forest below, we stood, still enclosed by the thickness of trees.

He’ll get over this. We can get over this. He needs some time, I told myself. The words weren’t very convincing. I could feel something burning a hole in my chest. Panic maybe.

He turned to face me. The air was thinner here and I shivered, but not from cold. I felt sick and a little dizzy, like I was teetering on the edge of a precipice, about to fall. I tried to steady my breathing. I kept telling myself it was all going to work out. That everything would be fine. But the look on his face made it impossible to believe that was true. I twirled a lock of hair around my finger. His eyes followed my hand, and for a split second his gaze softened. A half smile touched his lips; that same slightly crooked smile that melted my heart. Only it didn’t have time to reach his eyes before it faded. Then it was gone, as quickly as it had come leaving his emotions carefully shielded behind expressionless eyes. They were still beautiful....they were always beautiful, but the chill had returned. More than anything I missed their warmth.

I stood motionless, unable to breathe. Barely noticing the coiling mist that had risen and was swirling knee high.

Being alone in the forest with him used to be my favorite place to be. Now I was chocking from the dread rising in my throat. For an agonizing length of time he stared at me with those eyes that once lit up when he looked at me. His jaw tightened, and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. He shifted his weight, and frowned. A vein in his temples pulsed. Gritting his teeth, his hand reached for his sword. But then fell away. Raking a hand through his hair once, he finally broke the throbbing silence.

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Excerpt: Crossing the Deep - Kelly Martin

“Rachel, are you going to hate me forever?” Sid asked as he draped his arm around her shoulder. His dark red coat matched his hat so perfectly that Rachel wondered how long he had searched for a coat the exact same shade as his favorite headpiece.

“I don’t hate you,” she said, shrugging him off.

“Sure you do. You both do. Carly told me you did.”

“She did what?”

“Yeah, in the van. She said both of you royally disliked me, and I wanted to hear it from you.”

The soft sound of the running water echoed through the trees. It sounded peaceful, tranquil. If only Sid would be quiet long enough for her to enjoy it.

Rachel held on to the flimsy, wooden handrail as she started across the swinging, single person bridge across Deep Creek, which ran perpendicular to the trail. Deep Creek wasn’t very big; maybe fourteen feet across, and appeared more of a trickle than a creek. She didn’t even see a waterfall. It kinda bummed her out.

“Deep Creek,” Sid read the sign at the beginning of the bridge and followed behind her. “Original. Misleading, but original.”

Rachel couldn’t argue with that. A few boulders were scattered across the creek basin. To Rachel, it looked like if something bad did happen and the water actually covered those rocks, then the creek would live up to its name.

“I don’t know what Carly told you, but I don’t hate you.

Carly is her own person and can think or feel what she wants,” Rachel said once she reached the other side of the bridge. ”But I don’t hate you. I don’t like what you did, but I don’t hate you.”

“Look, I know I messed up. I more than messed up. I screwed up and hurt someone I care about. I know that. If I could take it back, I would. Can you just please talk to Carly when we get to the picnic area? Make her see that I’m not a bad guy.”

Rachel didn’t know what to say to that. She had always heard once a cheater always a cheater, but she also knew it was her Christian duty to forgive.

“Come on. Help a guy out,” he added in a pitiful voice. “I told her I was sorry. What more does she want?”

“You’ll just have to figure that out yourself,” Rachel said, unsure of how to help him.

“Just talk to her. Pleeeeeeeeeeeease…”

“Okay!” she said just to shut him up.

“Thank you!” His face lit up like a Christmas tree, and he kissed her on the cheek before running up the trail toward Asher, who was leaning on a tree. “You’re the best!” he yelled back at her.

Rachel stopped walking. What had she agreed to, and what was Sid thinking kissing her like that? It wasn’t like he was letting his intentions be known, as her grandma liked to say. But still, being kissed — even in a chaste way — wasn’t something that happened to her every day.

She watched as Sid slapped Asher on the shoulder before running by him, and without thinking, her fingers went to the little spot on her cheek where his kiss had landed.

“If you get that riled up from a little peck on the cheek, I’d hate to see what would happen if you got a kiss on your lips,” Asher yelled, folding his arms with that same smirk he’d had at the snack machine. Rachel’s cheeks burned like fire, knowing what she must look like, staring all swoony--‐‑eyed at Sid. When did she start swooning?

“On second thought,” Asher said, narrowing his eyes, “maybe it would be a fun thing to see.”

“That would imply that I’d let you.” Rachel made her legs move again.

“Very true.” Asher laughed, falling in step beside her.

“What are you doing on this trip anyway?” Rachel asked, harsher than she meant. Her mouth was in defensive mode.

He shrugged, not seeming to take any offense. “Didn’t have any other place to be.”

Awkward silence filled the space between them as they walked. Rachel just wanted him to run ahead with Sid and leave her alone.

“You should cut him some slack, you know?”

“Who? Sid?”

“Who else? Yeah, Sid. He messed up, sure. He cheated. We all mess up. Even perfect little Christians like you.” He had a lot to learn about her. “I’m by no means perfect,” she said, her voice hard.

“And neither is Sid.”

“I’ve never cheated on a boyfriend.”

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

Ouch, that stung. “That’s none of your business.” Sure, she had never had a boyfriend, but she knew without a doubt she wouldn’t cheat on one.

“I’m sorry,” he said, almost like he meant it.

“Whatev—”

“And Sid’s sorry too,” he said without skipping a beat. “Making out with Easy Emily wasn’t the smartest move. One, because her lips should be retired for excessive use, and two because it hurt someone he cares about a lot.”

Rachel knew he was right. She’d even used the same argument with Carly. For some reason, she just wanted to stay mad at Sid, more so after he thought it wise to buy her help with a little peck on the cheek. The kiss had irked her. And her reaction to it irked her even more.

Asher spoke when she didn’t. “You Bible types are all about forgiveness,” he shook his head, “until it'ʹs you who has to do the forgiving.”

“What do you know of the Bible, Asher?” she spat. “Do you even own one?”

Without warning, Asher stepped in front of her. She could either stop or run over him; she chose to stop. Her eyes came up to his chest, and she tilted her head up to see his face. That close, she could see how blue his eyes were and the little moon--‐‑shaped scar on his chin. He didn’t look amused anymore, and the twinkle was gone from his eyes. “You think you know it all, don’t you? It’s all black and white with you. No gray areas. All or nothing. Well, guess what?”

He moved his hands to her shoulders and pushed her windblown curls back. “The world doesn’t work like that.” Asher lingered a moment, staring into her eyes. He stared so long, Rachel wondered if he was going to kiss her too, but that was stupid, because he obviously didn’t like her. Without a word, he turned and walked away.

Watching him go, her mind raced and felt completely empty at the same time.

She had no idea what in the world was happening on this trip.

ASTRAEA PRESS | AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE

Excerpt: Along Came Jordan - Brenda Maxfield

Laine was at EC -- was there no escaping her? When I walked in, she looked up and for a split second, I saw fire flare from her eyes. “Emili, you lost?” she asked in a voice pulsing with irritation.

“Isn't this Environmental Club?”

She jumped from her chair and came over to me. “Are you joining? Don't you think it might be too much? I mean, a new school, and already on decorations committee for the ball?”

I regarded her expression, and noted the hint of desperation lurking behind the cool façade. “I think I can handle it.”

There was an awkward silence, and I thought she was going to forbid me to join. Then she broke into a stiff smile which didn't reach her eyes.

“Okay, listen up!” She looked around the room and everyone gave her their attention. “This is Emili. She's a sophomore, and she's new here. She'll be joining us.”

Thank you, Your Highness for introducing me.

I raised my arm in a half-wave and sank into a chair. On my left sat the most gorgeous guy I'd ever seen. His smooth chestnut hair swooped over his deep toffee eyes. He sat relaxed, dominating the chair with his size. I saw how his broad shoulders strained the fabric of his Nike T-shirt. A shiver crawled up my spine. I couldn't help it, I stared. Was this Jordan, the guy I'd decided to avoid?

ASTRAEA PRESS| AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE

New Release! A Stormy Knight - Amy Mullen

BLURB:In twelfth century England, Gemma de Vere and Nicholas de Reymes find love at a young age. Too naïve to truly understand what is happening, their fledgling relation-ship is torn apart by political games and scheming minds. Nicholas and his family dis-appear into the night and Gemma is left with a shattered heart.

Seven years later, Gemma still harbors a broken heart, and retreats into a life in which she will not be foolish enough to fall in love again. Mysterious deaths and accidents begin to plague those living within the walls of Blackstone Castle, and her father falls ill. She has no choice but to seek the assistance of King Henry.

Help arrives in the form of her childhood love, the handsome and imposing Nicholas, who is now a fierce and loyal knight bent on revenge. The pain and anguish he feels over the fate of his family casts Gemma as his enemy. To him, she represents all the misfortune in his life as he tries to keep her at arm’s length and far away from his heart.

Their journey towards truth is riddled with treachery and danger from an unlikely source. Will they find their way back to each other, or will his need for revenge outweigh the love he feels in her arms?

EXCERPT:
"I see you have charmed my sister," Gemma said.

"Would you rather I abuse her and make her scared of me?" he asked.

"Of course not."

"Then thank goodness for small favors and quit trying to make me out to be the enemy here. I am here to protect everyone, and you would do well to remember that," he snapped as he took a sip of his wine and slammed his goblet down on the table before him.

She squirmed in her seat. "I was worried you would be cruel to all. You have been so angry since you arrived."

"My anger is toward you, Gemma, as you had a hand in what happened to my parents. I was never good enough for your family. Someone must pay for what happened, but until I know who that person is, I will not alienate those who would serve me."

Anger rose and then ebbed quickly as she tried to contain herself. She tried desperately to be thankful for what he had just said, even though he had implied she herself might suffer. So be it. He was deluded about the past, and she would show him the truth no matter how long it took or what she had to do.



This book is available through Astraea Press HERE. Also available at most other ebook retailers including Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iBooks, Kobo, etc.

Blog Tour Promo: At What Cost - Jessie Andersen

During her junior year, sixteen-year-old Maggie Reynolds expected to shop for prom dresses not maternity clothes. Now, instead of studying for the SATs, she’s reading, What to Expect When You’re Expecting. Maggie’s ‘Mother Dearest’ lives in fear that Maggie will somehow taint the family name, so Maggie can’t turn to her for help. Meanwhile, her father is oblivious to anything but his 9-9 job. And her boyfriend, Justin? She’s pretty sure he’ll stay by her side.

While Maggie wrestles with her options, Justin offers a solution: abortion. It would solve all her problems quickly, easily, and effectively. And her parents would never know, which means they won’t throw her out and cut her off like they’d always threatened if she got herself knocked up. But an easy decision becomes difficult when Maggie’s aunt discovers her secret and sets out on a mission to stop the abortion, putting a kink in Maggie’s plan. Now Maggie must decide which choice she can live with: abortion or teenage motherhood. Either way, it’ll be a tough road to travel.

*Young Adult RONE finalist award and the USA Best Book Award finalist in Youth Issues *

Special Note: At What Cost can be purchased for 99 cents at Amazon and Barnes & Noble for this week only!

Buy Links: Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Astraea Press | Kobo | Smashwords | Audible


“You’re pregnant?” It was a harsh half statement, half question punctuated with clenched teeth.
“Wha—?” Maggie was too shocked to realize what had happened, but when she looked back to where she stood, she spotted a sheepish looking Lauren mouthing the words, “I’m
sorry.”
“Ugh.”
“Well, are you?” His grip on her tightened.
“Justin, you’re hurting my arm.”
He let go and motioned for her to sit with a quick thrust of his hand toward the table, but his eyes revealed his anger. He was furious, but then she saw a hint of fear hidden behind his golden irises. In those moments, she was five years old again, the day she’d broken her mother’s favorite vase. Her mother had loomed over her, drilling her for information. Pointed and yelled. This time, it was Justin.
“Are you, or aren’t you?” His eyes crinkled, his brow furrowed, and a deep crease appeared on his forehead. Trying to control his reactions proved to be impossible, and soon, his leg bounced under the table, and he wiped the nervous sweat on his palms off on his jeans.
This still wasn’t the place to talk. The cement walls of the school were beginning to feel like a jail cell; anywhere she went, Maggie felt trapped.
“Can we talk about this after school?” Maggie said, trying to be assertive.
His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists. “No, we can’t. If you’re pregnant, I need to know.”
This wasn’t how she had pictured it. She was supposed to plan the conversation and the place. Definitely not in the corner of the cafeteria with people walking by who might hear her secret, a secret she hadn’t decided how to handle. Thank you so much, Lauren!
Justin grabbed her wrists from across the table. “Maggie, it’s a simple yes or no question. Are. You. Pregnant?”
She could feel the rage rolling off him in waves, and she knew stalling was not an option.
“Yes.”
The silence grew louder, and Justin didn’t move. He stared at her, his eyes shifting across her eyes in a quick staccato. She didn’t know she could feel so uncomfortable, so she tried to ease that discomfort by looking away. When she met his gaze again, he glared at her, not saying a word. He never spoke. Not when he let go of her wrists, not when he got up from the seat across from her, not when he left the room.
Not a single word.
Author Info: Jessie Andersen lives in a small town in Western New York with her husband and three kids. A former English teacher, she now spends her time writing while the kids are at school and the baby is sleeping. She volunteers at the local library and sings in the church band. You can find information about her books at her website, and you can follow her blogs at her personal blog and her book blog. You can also follow her on Twitter and on Facebook.

New Release: My Life As A Lumberjack {Or How I Fell For the Wrong Guy(s)} - Sarah Olds

Me, Mercedes Bennion? Working for the US Forest Service? I’ve never thought of myself as the outdoorsy, hard-working type. But one quick glance at those mouth-watering forest rangers and oh, baby, sign this seventeen-year-old up for a whole summer of fresh air, mountains and starry, starry nights!

“Oh,” breathed Adrienne as she stood next to me.
“What?” My stupid overstuffed pack was caught between the van seats, and because it weighed at least sixty-five pounds, I couldn’t get it to budge. I yanked on it again. My focus had turned to releasing it from the aisle’s death grip.
“Benz,” she whispered. What was up with that?
“What!” My irritation had grown into a growl. I swear if my pack strap tore — or worse yet, the stinking fabric ripped — what in the world would I do for the rest of the week?
“Benz!” Her hand fluttered against my leg.
Swatting like one would a pesky mosquito, I tried to push away her attempts to get my attention.
“Benz!”
“What!” I spun away from the van, nearly toppling Adrienne as I rotated. Before me stood an unfamiliar man.
I’d been expecting another Forest Service uniform, but this man wore jeans, work boots and a plaid cotton shirt — open midway to his chest. The bright sunlight brought out glints of gold in his longer than shoulder-length tawny curls, which displayed many shades of browns, reds and blacks. The front of his hair was pulled back and bound in some way, leaving the rest to hang to his shoulders. Dark metal aviator glasses sat on his nose as he peered over the top. Despite the angle of the sun, which made me squint, I could clearly see his brown eyes studying us. Whoa.
“Now that I have all your attention.” His focus bored into me. “My name’s Dan.”
Dan=rugged. Dan=tall, tan and oh my goodness! Dan=maybe better than Norm.
I felt a slow easy smile creep across my face. It’s official. I love Away Camp.

Excerpt: Waiting Fate - W.B. Kinnette

As he walked her to her door, she slid her small fingers into his, and he ran his thumb across the back of her hand. The night was cool. At the door she turned, smiling up at him. “Thank you Archer. It was… fun.”

He couldn’t see clearly, but he could swear she was smirking. Yeah, you blew your chance. Way to go. So he hugged her, wrapping his arms around her waist, like he’d done a hundred other times before. They were a huggy group.

He was surprised when she rose on her toes and slid her arms around his neck, holding tight like he was a lifeline. He pulled back, just a bit, hoping but afraid to hope as he searched her eyes. They sparkled, just a bit, and then she leaned forward, closing the gap between them and brushing her lips against his.

Time stopped. The world stopped and he froze in shock. It took him several seconds to realize what was happening, and then he kissed her back, holding her tight against him. He could feel her heart racing, matching his. When she relinquished his lips, he sucked in a breath, struggling to breathe. “I’ve wanted to do that since high school,” he muttered, almost without realizing it.

Excerpt: Hauntings of the Heart - Joselyn Vaughn

“You’ll never believe who I saw at the Register of Deeds yesterday afternoon.” Edith tossed her purse on the red vinyl booth across the table from Minnie before she scooted into the seat.

Minnie waved to their favorite waitress, Rachel, who balanced a tray of the daily specials and a half--‐‑empty pot of decaf coffee. She acknowledged them with a nod and headed toward the rear of the dining room. The rest of the diner held the usual bunch of early lunchers, reminiscing with their cohorts on the morning news, the chance of an early frost, and the state of affairs at the
zoning commission. Years of baked--‐‑on grease permeated the air and accounted for the signature flavor of the scrambled eggs.

Edith smoothed down her more‐‑salt‐‑than--pepper coiffure and reached for the specials card clipped to the jellies. “I didn’t think he’d ever set foot in Carterville again.”

“Who?” Minnie asked, already knowing the name that would spill from Edith’s lips.

Edith slapped the menu down on the table. Her eyes slid both ways, then she leaned across the table. “Gordon Anderson.” She raised her eyebrows conspiratorially.

“I had hoped he wouldn’t.” Her stomach roiled. He’d been here sixteen hours and already she was jumping out of her skin at every sound, expecting him to appear whenever she turned her back. She attributed it to loathing, but it felt like a high school crush.

Rachel arrived at their table and flipped their sturdy brown coffee mugs over. “Just decaf today, ladies, or half‐‑and--half?” She held the orange--rimmed carafe poised over Minnie’s cup.

“It’s a half‐‑and--half day,” Edith said. “Any day Gordon Anderson comes to town requires a dose of caffeine.”

Minnie snorted. “It requires Jack Daniel’s, but it’s a little too early in the day.”

Knight of the Dead - Jennifer Rae Gravely

When Mark returned to the conference room about three hours later, Rose and Persephone sat at the table drawing.

“Daddy, I drew a picture of the different seasons. Miss Purr-So-Funny told me the story about her name.” The child frowned. “I wouldn’t want to be kidnapped.”

“Your father would never let that happen.” He patted her head.

“I know.” Her smile stretched into a yawn.

“It’s time to go home and get to bed. Are you ready?” Rose nodded. “Say good-night to Persephone.”

She jumped up and threw her arms around Persephone’s neck. “I can’t wait till tomorrow.”

“Me either,” Persephone said.

Persephone stood and moved toward her black sweater coat draped over a chair. Mr. Lawrence handed her money and followed her to the front door. “Thank you for helping out with Rose tonight. I hope she wasn’t any trouble.” They stood in front of the flowers and the mirror next to the door. He loved the smell of freshly cut flowers, even in the dead of winter.

“Not at all. Goodnight, Mr. Lawrence.”

“Please, call me Mark.” He ran his fingers through his hair out of habit. “Will you be okay driving home?”

“Yes, Mark.” She smiled, pulling her arms through her sweater coat and tightening the belt around her trim waist. He leaned forward and opened the door for her. The gush of wind brought a hint of lavender to his nose, and he realized it was the smell of her hair. She stepped out to the porch. About a third of the way down the stairs she turned and waved at him. He caught his
breath.

Excerpt: Matching Wits with Venus - Therese Gilardi

Chapter One
“You have GOT to do something about that woman or before you know it they’ll be tearing down all those statues of me and calling HER the goddess of love!”

Venus flicked her cream silk scarf over her slender shoulders as she peered through the ultra-powerful telescope she had set up in her hilltop villa, which was a replica of one of her favorite Roman palaces. She knew she should stop looking through the lens every hour, but she couldn’t help herself. For thousands of years, across all parts of the globe, high in the heavens and deep in the underworld she’d been the undisputed queen of matchmaking. But now, for the first time in over two millennia, Venus was beginning to fear she’d met her match.

In the valley below, not far from a string of psychic reading rooms, the Ripley’s “Believe It or Not” museum, and the famous thirty foot white block letters that spelled out “Hollywood”, Amelia Coillard stretched out her hands to receive a large homemade almond vanilla pie.

“I spent all evening making this for you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” A tall woman wearing an enormous pear shaped ruby on her left ring finger sputtered as she bowed slightly. “Really, Amelia, you’re the best. David and I want to invite you to our wedding. On June twenty-first. It’ll be a way to mark our own new season together.”

Amelia smiled. She was used to these follow-up visits from grateful clients, women and even some men who had been certain they’d been fated to be alone until they’d discovered “Happily Ever After by Amelia.”

“Glad we could help Susanna. Don’t forget to tell your friends about us.”

The woman giggled as she pushed past the wrought iron marble topped café table where Amelia met with clients. As she pulled the beveled glass door closed behind her the intertwined pink and purple wooden hearts that hung against the wooden frame banged together. Amelia waved as Susanna disappeared into the rising March sun.

“We’ve got another wedding. Guess when,” Amelia called out to her assistant Jennie as she stepped into the backroom and placed the pie on a distressed pine sideboard, next to the boxes of chocolates, baskets of figs, bottles of champagne, potpourri sachets and bundles of beeswax candles. If there was a foodstuff or a house ware associate with love, lust or fertility Amelia had received it from a satisfied client.

“Not the summer solstice,” Jennie said, and Amelia rolled her eyes.

“Of course. Flowers in bloom, longer days, baby animals at the zoo. It can all mean only one thing. June brides. I don’t know how people can be so sentimental.”

Jennie laughed.

Amelia walked to the little cupboard in the corner and withdrew the fitted white crocheted sweater she always wore when she was at work. She’d gotten it two years ago, right after she opened “Happily Ever After by Amelia,” at the Rose Bowl flea market. The woman she bought it from said it had originally been part of the trousseau of one of the old studio stars that lived up in the Hollywood Hills. Although Amelia didn’t believe her, the delicate pattern had reminded her of wedding lace, so she’d worn it to every meeting since, believing it sent out positive subliminal messages to her clients. She pulled it over top of her black mini-dress and adjusted her wavy auburn hair over its pearl-trimmed collar.

“So what’s the day look like? Oh, wait, there’s Justin.”

Amelia rapped her knuckles on the window as a man whose face and body reflected the brutal realities of living rough in the hot California sun passed by. He was like many others in the neighborhood, most likely younger than the lines on his face implied.

She opened the door and smiled as the tall, slightly scruffy man in the red and black jacket turned around and came back to where Amelia stood at the door that opened onto the alley.

“I’ve got something for you.”

Amelia handed Justin the pie, along with a fork, cloth napkin and water bottle.

“Thanks Amelia. I’ll bring it by later,” Justin said, nodding at the place setting.

“No problem. Now, what’s on tap,” she said, turning back to Jennie.

“Three women coming in this morning to fill out their personality profiles. You know one actually had the nerve to ask me if you’d e-mail it to her so she could complete it on her own time? Yeah, and she can forward it to everyone she knows and before you know it your secret formula is out in the open.”

Amelia laughed.

“It’s not as mindless as that. You make it sound like I’m just making random matches, sending someone out there to shoot arrows into an unsuspecting public. Who do you think I am, Venus?”

Jennie smirked.

Amelia looked out the window at the back of her little storefront, toward the faded ocher stucco mansion with long French windows and a red-tiled roof that sat atop the highest of the Hollywood Hills. Long verandas seemed to wrap around the house, although it was impossible to know for certain if they ran across the back of the home, since the far side of the walled property was not accessible by road or foot. It sat atop a fault line. No one dared venture onto the rocky terrain, for fear of disrupting the crusty earth beneath the bougainvillea bushes.

Jennie put her arm around Amelia.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t go down that path, Lia. It’s not going to take you anywhere you want to be.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, let it go.”

Amelia sighed.

“Do you have any idea how many cakes, cookies, tarts, baskets and bouquets I left on those stone steps? Do you know, I used to climb up to that gate every year on Christmas Eve and what should’ve been my parents’ anniversary and leave her these hand written letters I’d actually sealed with a kiss. I taped those little Hershey’s candies to the envelope when I was little and then, when I was in high school, I’d slather on red lipstick and run my mouth across the envelope. I can’t believe I was so stupid!”

“We all do dumb things.”

“Yeah but come on. Believing that an ancient Roman goddess exists AND that she lives right here in my own neighborhood?”

Jennie laughed.

“It does sound absurd when you put it that way. Plus everybody knows that house has been abandoned for decades. Why they don’t add it to the Haunted Hollywood tour is beyond me.”

Amelia nodded. As she took a final look at the mansion, she thought she saw a flash of rose-colored light shooting across the bottom floor.

Excerpt: Until We Meet Again - S.E. Campbell

Osier Schmidt stood inside of a graveyard, his hand perched on his belly. There was a flask of liquor in his fat, clenched fist, and he gazed at a gravestone in front of him. It belonged to Eden Schmidt, his daughter. He gritted his teeth and then pivoted to peer at the gravestone next to that. It belonged to Rebecca Schmidt, his wife.

He took another chug of his drink. It dulled the edges of his mind, causing everything to be a blur. The world became softer in this haze, and he preferred it that way. It wasn't like he had a job, or anything else, to be presentable for. Alone. All alone. He peered at the gravestones again. Chances were good it was entirely his fault his daughter had died.

The sound of voices in the distance caused him to turn around and look up at the rolling hills covered with gravestones. A massive crowd was forming at the top of the hill. Curiosity sparked inside of him as well as the feeling of intense loneliness. He peered down at himself and knew he was not presentable for such a gathering. Osier wore a white T-shirt stained with beer and a pair of loose shorts. Sweat ran down his back.

I'll just have a look. He sighed and headed up the hill. Halfway up, his breathing became strained. He could hardly breathe.

At the top of the hill, he spotted a beautiful brunette woman wearing all black clutching her face. Tears streamed down her cheek. He guessed she was a widow or a parent. At her side was a cold-eyed man. Osier made his way through the large crowd and stared down at a dark brown casket. There was a picture of the deceased person on a piece of board by the casket. To him, it appeared cruel to have a picture of such a young, beautiful girl displayed so prominently when everybody knew hers was a face they would never see again. But what did he know? At one time he’d thought he knew everything, but now he was well aware he didn't know anything at all. As he clenched his fists and continued to look at the picture, he sighed.

A collective gasp from the people who had gathered interrupted his thoughts. He spun around, frowning. Even the beautiful brunette woman had stopped weeping. A flash of white erupted from beyond the crowd.

What's going on? He leaned forward, curious.

A girl stepped forward, through the throng. His breath caught in his throat as he saw who stood before him, shrouded in white, with long golden hair trickling down her back.

It was Eden, the daughter he had lost twenty years ago.

Excerpt: Battlefield of the Heart - E.A. West

A dark-haired guy with an athletic build, not more than an inch or two taller than her height of five foot nine, stood scanning the area as though he was lost. Clean-shaven, with just a hint of a five o’clock shadow along his jaw, he wore a T-shirt and jeans, both fitting just tight enough to hint at lean muscles. Cindy considered taking a candid photo and sending it to her girlfriends, but her cell phone was in her purse and digging it out would be too obvious. Maybe she could find another way to share this cutie with them.

His actions reminded her of her own during her first semester there. She’d had to ask someone where to find buildings so many times. Without those sympathetic upperclassmen, she would have been perpetually lost.

If he was a new student, that made her the sympathetic upperclassman. She stopped near him and smiled. “Hi, can I help you find someplace?”

He didn’t seem to hear her. She moved closer, thinking he might not realize she was talking to him. “Excuse me.”

He twisted and grabbed her wrist with startling speed. She screamed as he spun her around, bringing her arm behind her and forcing her to the ground as he said something unintelligible, but undeniably commanding. As he put a knee on her back and pulled her other arm, she heard people running toward them and prayed they could help. The guy was strong and no amount of struggling did any good. He just tightened his grasp on her wrists and applied more pressure with his knee, making it difficult for her to draw in a breath.

“Danny, let her up!” a male voice said as the running steps stopped beside them.

“He’s a threat.”

He? Before Cindy could figure out what the guy was talking about, she felt some of his weight lift from her back.

“She’s a noncombatant, Sarge,” a third male voice said.

The grip on her wrists loosened. “What?”

“You’re in the States, man.”

“Crap!” He released her wrists, and his weight lifted from her completely.

Exerpt: Rescued By A Duke - Ruth Hartman

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “You are not in trouble. I only wish to know your circumstances and how you happened by the dreadful hole I pulled you from.”

Her circumstances? A deep longing for her older brother burdened her heart and held the anger at arm’s length. Anger about Samuel. His lies. His broken promises… Even with all of her hurt feelings toward him, her world had ended when he'd been killed. He was far too young. Though her situation was dire, indeed, she didn’t want to appear weak in front of the duke. She was on her own and needed to take care of herself. I must not let him see my fear of being here. Helpless. At his mercy. She tilted her chin towards the duke. “I recently lost my brother, your grace. So I have no family to repay your kindness.”

“There is no need for repayment. It is I who am responsible that you had the mishap of injuring your leg on my property.”

Sasha shook her head. “You have been most kind to me, your grace, putting yourself at risk to save me when I was in the wrong. If it would be possible…”

He leaned closer. “Yes?”

“Is there room for me here—”

“Of course.” He tilted his head.

“—to work as a maid perhaps?”

He frowned and sat back. “You owe me nothing, Miss Douglas. Believe me, my heart aches at the thought of what you have been through. Your injury will take time to heal. Until then, I insist you stay here, in my home, where you can be properly looked after.”

“But—”

“No.” He stood and pushed the chair back to its original place. His eyes flashed anger, the pupils enlarging. Had it been her offer to work for him which had caused this response? Perhaps the gentry handled such matters differently than the working class. Why hadn’t she asked the kind maid? No. Instead she’d blurted out the question. To him! If only she could take back the words. Her eyes widened as he left the room, as stormy as a black cloud, the maid following in his wake. Sasha scooted down in the bed and drew the covers over her head as tears threatened to fall. Would he now demand she leave, even though she couldn’t walk on her own? If that happened, what would she do?

New Release//Excerpt: Beyond A Doubt - Felicia Rogers

Blurb: Bryce Cameron is finally going home. Years spent away have him longing for the craggy landscapes from his childhood.

Lucy Lombard is on a mission. The mantel she carries was never meant for her possession yet it has been passed to her anyway. Alone and in danger, Lucy stumbles onto her greatest find.

Rescuing Bryce is either a blessing or a curse but regardless time is running out. With Bryce's help can Lucy fulfill her mission or will she be too late?



Chapter One Scotland, June 1557

Water swirled around in a torrent, sucking him under the vast currents. His arms flailed helplessly, attempting to grasp a rock, a limb, or anything available, only to have it ripped away. The noise of the rushing water confused him and severed his mental hold on his location. Tossed about by the raging water, he managed to surface long enough to catch a breath and notice a large boulder looming ahead. But it was too late to react. His ribs slapped the rock’s flat face and the wind was knocked from his weakened form.

So this was the end, to die by drowning so close to his destination. How had everything gone awry?

****
Several days earlier…

Bryce Cameron couldn’t be happier. Behind him, nestled amongst jagged rocks and trees, rested the Sinclair keep and his past. Before him awaited beautiful grasslands, with free-­‐‑roaming sheep and his future.

Leaving Grant behind had been a kind of necessary torture. His cousin needed to sever ties, whereas Bryce needed freedom to travel. The call to home beckoned. Who knew what would happen if he waited any longer?

For the arduous journey ahead, Duncan, the Sinclair laird, had given him a horse and a sword. Arbella, the laird’s wife, had supplied him with food and blankets. With gladness, he’d accepted the gifts. Without a worry, Bryce set out for home. His woman awaited.

Crissy, a red-­‐‑haired lass, short and round, full in bosom and hip, had a twinkle in her eye which constantly hinted at mirth.

Temper was her middle name as she took pleasure in exhibiting it most of the time. But instead of deterring Bryce, it only endeared her to him. With his mild-­‐‑mannered, laid-­‐‑back ways, having a forceful woman seemed necessary. Besides, when her temper flared, her adorable dimples showed, and he couldn’t get enough of them.

Thoughts of Crissy sent his feet knocking the sides of his horse, urging the beast into increased speed. The animal cantered by a field dotted with white sheep lazily plucking at the ground, chewing in a slow rhythmic motion. As he sucked in the fresh air, he also smelled the odor of wet wool and the bleating of ewes. With it came the desire to arrive home more quickly.

Daydreams of a field full of sheep and a house full of children floated through his mind. Crissy would be in the middle of both. Strong, secure, and fierce, his soon-­‐‑to-­‐‑be wife would be a force to be reckoned with.

A smile tugged at his lips, a laugh escaped. The trail suddenly grew quiet and daunting in the afternoon sun. Since his journey had begun, there had been no traffic. An unnerving silence pervaded the area. The sooner he arrived on Cameron lands, the better he would feel.

The miles sped by. Nothing was prettier than the Scottish countryside. Forests, fields of flowers, and inhabited and uninhabited keeps dotted the landscape. Bryce avoided stopping in civilized areas, which would lead him off course. Without any delays, the road would have him home in a week’s time.

At night, Bryce slept under the stars. The weather stayed clear and warm, cooperating with his journey. He gave thanks to the Almighty for his uneventful passage.

After several days of travel, the end neared. The smell of sheep excrement increased. Within a day, he would arrive home and into the waiting arms of his betrothed. All the ways he might be greeted by his love entered his mind. Perhaps she would run out of her home and throw her arms around his neck, even going so far as to flatten a chaste kiss upon his cheek. Or maybe Crissy would set up a fuss about the length of his absence, in which case he would smile and agree, enjoying the sight of her anger thus presented.

A faint wind blew. The odor of his unwashed body sent his nose crinkling upward. Perhaps a bath was in order before meeting his beloved.

Bryce knew a river ran near Cameron lands. It would take no time to stop and bathe before going to meet his love. In fact, Crissy might be more affectionate if he removed the stink. The thought of increased affection hurried him along.

A path through the foliage opened to the river. Dismounting, Bryce tied his horse to a thick branch. Tunic removed and laid over his arm and his trews still in place, he waded in. One step into the chill waters almost led to retreat. Only the desire to please Crissy kept him moving.

The water was now waist high. His teeth clacked together as he shivered with cold. Grasped by the moving water, his tunic fell from his shoulder and floated away. Exasperated, Bryce reached to grab the floating fabric. Each time his fingertips brushed the water-­‐‑ logged cloth, the moving waters jerked it away before he could retrieve it.
Without thought, Bryce followed it further and further in. As he approached the middle of the river, his foot slipped. His feet flew out from under him and the water swept him underneath its surface, surprising Bryce with its fierceness.

Life flashed before his eyes. The brevity of time depressed him even as the water sucked him under once again. Thoughts rankled. A life ending without Crissy by his side, without having had his children, or raising his sheep, thoughts of dying over a stupid tunic.

White water rushed around and over him. When his head rose above the caps, he quickly sucked in a breath. Less and less Bryce came up for air as the water tumbled him head over heel, over and over. Death was close at hand. Now there was one more regret to add to his long list. No one would know what had happened to him.

His chest burned as his wet wool clothing dragged his body down one last time.

Excerpt: The Trouble With Charlie - Catherine Bennett

“No, Amanda. There’s nothing between Charlie and me.”

Before Charlie could move, think, or even breath, Evan caught Amanda up in his arms. She heard Amanda’s gasp of pleasure – or pain – a second before his mouth crushed hers. Charlie loosened her grip on the tree. The scene in front of her seemed to slow to a crawl. She staggered back a step.

Someone bumped into her from behind, causing her to let out an unladylike “ugh.” Evan let go of Amanda so quickly that she fell to the pavement.

“Charlie?” His voice penetrated the fog in her brain. She spun around and ran, willing her feet to go faster than the strappy sandals would allow. She exploded out of the grove of trees, pushed her way through the crowd, and headed toward the parking lot. Her spiked heels dug into the soft turf. Swearing soundly, she bent down and yanked the shoes off, breaking the straps in the Without them she could fly. She rounded the side of the building, dodging potted plants and party guests. She scanned the long line of cars through a blur of tears. They all looked the same. She continued down the drive to the street, juggling her purse, shoes and the car remote.

“Charlie!”

Her pace quickened. How many black SUV’s can there be? Little stones dug into the bottoms of her bare feet, but she barely felt them. Holding the remote in front of her, she clicked it several times, hoping to see a set of headlights switch on in the dark.

A hand grabbed her from behind and spun her around. Charlie’s free arm swung out quicker than the scream that followed it. The heel of her sandal barely missed the side of Evan’s head.

“Get away from me, Evan! Just get away!” Charlie brought her knee up, but he sidestepped.

“Woman. Would you stop trying to maim me?”

“I’m leaving. Now!”

“Would you calm down and come over here?” he demanded. She resisted, but he kept a firm grip on her arm and wrestled the remote out of her clenched fist. After dodging her flailing purse, he clicked the passenger door open and nudged her in. He ran around the front of the vehicle before she could escape, swung the door open, and slid in next to her.

Charlie didn’t look at him. She simply folded her arms and stared straight ahead. They sat in angry silence for a few minutes. She wiped the back of her hand under her runny nose. He snapped open the glove box, handed her a tissue, and leaned back in the seat.

“What did you hear back there?” he asked finally.

“Everything.”

Evan ran his hand through his hair. “Did Amanda know you were spying?”

“Even if she did, you’ve got control over what you say. Over what you do.”

“I know. I know. I was angry. She was pushing me.”

“Angry? So that’s your excuse? That’s why you kissed her?” She balled her fist up and he flinched. Good. Let him be afraid. Let him be very afraid.