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An interview with author Karina Bartow

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

On a professional level, I’ve been writing novels for fifteen years and have been traditionally published five times since 2015. I’m living in my childhood home in northern Ohio and am an auntie or “Nin Nin” to two. I also have a very spoiled and feisty parakeet.

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

Coffee all the way, specifically iced mochas.

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

I didn’t attend college, but I trained to be a bridal consultant back in the day. Deep down, though, I always wanted to write, so I also took some honors writing classes in high school. My bridal consultant course gave me a few good tips about sculpting family drama in my plots!

I’ve written a mix of mysteries and love stories. In all of them, I try to entertain readers as well as make them feel something. I also like to add laughter here and there.

Tell us about your most recent publication.  Accidental Allies is the third installment of the Unde(a)feated Detective Series , which follows deaf detective Minka Avery. In its forerunner, Minka left the police force to be a stay-at-home mom to her daughter, Caela. Accidental Allies jumps ahead about four years, with Caela starting kindergarten. Conveniently, a position for a detective at her former precinct opens up, paving the way for her to return to the career she loves. She doesn’t have a very quiet reunion, however, as the county courthouse is bombed the night before she reports for duty.

What inspired you to write this story? What interesting thing did you learn or research to write it that you didn’t know before?

When I decided to bring Minka back to the police force in Accidental Allies, I wanted her return to be suspenseful, much like her departure was in Husband in Hiding. Thus, I set it around an explosion. You can’t get much more action-packed than that, right? Given the crux of the plot revolves around a bombing, most of my research pertained to that…to my mother’s chagrin! I won’t elaborate on what I learned in doing so, but considering I only have one working hand with very little coordination, everyone can rest assured I won’t be putting my knowledge to use!

What’s your favorite thing about the book featured here today? Any special memories you have in the creation of it?

At its heart, the Unde(a)feated Detective Series is about family, and Accidental Allies stays true to that, with an emphasis on friendship. I really enjoyed paying homage to a few of my cherished friendships. As far as a special memory goes, I was able to scout out the area of Orlando around the courthouse and its surroundings, which was fun. We even ate at the diner I feature, so my research was full-sensory.   

What do you most like about writing? Least like? When did you first know you wanted to be an author?

I love being able to create your own world, and there’s no right or wrong—just room for improvement. The part of the gig I don’t particularly love is marketing and self-promotion because it’s really out of my comfort zone.

I first knew I wanted to be an author when I was nine years old, after my mom took me to meet a children’s book author at our local library. Her passion for writing rubbed off on me, so that became my dream from then on.

Do you belong to any writing groups? Are there any writing websites you find particularly useful?

No, I don’t belong to any per-say, but I’ve had the privilege of collaborating with other authors, such as TG Wolff on her Mysteries to Die For podcast and book series. I also subscribe to Authors online magazine and AuthorsPublish.com for new opportunities and helpful tips.   

Is there any special music you like to listen to while writing? How does it inspire you?

I love music, but I can’t write with it on. I like to focus on one thing at a time. However, I was listening to a fairly unknown Daughtry song called “Undefeated” as I mulled over what to name my series, and it hit me—The Unde(a)feated Detective Series!

Do you belong to a critique group? What do you find most valuable about the experience? I’ve always been a bit insecure about my writing, so a critique group terrifies me. My family isn’t even allowed to read my books before they’re published. That said, I’ve entrusted an astute and beloved former teacher of mine to read my work before I submit it to anyone, and her guidance has benefitted me immensely. She even impelled me to write my 2022 love story, Wrong Line, Right Connection.  

To encourage those still on the path, tell us a little about your path to publication. How many books have you published? How many books did you write before selling one? What do you think was the key to selling that first book? 

Husband in Hiding, my debut novel, was the third book I’d written but the first one that I took seriously about publishing. I submitted it to 120 publishers and agents, receiving fifty rejections and the rest going unanswered before I landed an acceptance letter. I think the key was persistence as well as taking into account the few suggestions that were offered to me. In the four books published since then, thankfully, I haven’t racked up rejections like that. I’ve still had to change publishers a couple of times.    

What are you writing now? What’s next for you—will you be making personal appearances anywhere our readers can find you?

 I’m working on another novel in the Unde(a)feated Detective Series, as well as two mini-installments in the form of short stories for TG Wolff’s Mysteries to Die For series.
Anything else you would like to add?

Check out the Accidental Allies book trailer on Youtube! https://youtu.be/byywsuDgo9g?si=wKdDCL6GqbFhg24

Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Accidental-Allies-Unde-feted-Detective-ebook/dp/B0CHWKQ98F

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/accidental-allies-karina-bartow/1144069605;jsessionid=D196D6EF2F76C613F15D81D65BCDF7D5.prodny_store02-atgap06?ean=9781509252077

Books-A-Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/p/Accidental-Allies/Karina-Bartow/9781509252077?id=8973185582242

Walmart: https://www.walmart.com/ip/Unde-a-Feated-Detective-Accidental-Allies-Series-3-Paperback-9781509252077/5087500511?from=/search   

Bio:

Karina Bartow grew up and still lives in Northern Ohio.  Though born with Cerebral Palsy, she’s never allowed her disability to define her.  Rather, she’s used her experiences to breathe life into characters who have physical limitations, but like her, are determined not to let them stand in the way of the life they want.  Her works include Husband in Hiding, Brother of Interest, Forgetting My Way Back to You, and Wrong Line, Right Connection.  She may only be able to type with one hand, but she writes with her whole heart!

Social Media Tags:

Website: https://www.KarinaBartow.com 

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

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/KarinaBartow

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/karina.bartow/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/karinabartow/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Karina-Bartow/author/B076L4FCGV?ref=ap_rdr&store_ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

When women ruled the world–oh, man

PLEASE WELCOME GUEST AUTHOR CATHY HESTER SECKMAN and her new release, RIGHTSIDE/WRONGSIDE!

I wrote my first novel when I was 10. It had at least a dozen pages, and featured a scarecrow, a tin man, and a lion.

It’s been a very long time since then, and my writing journey has diverged in multiple directions along the way.

  • 1971: a teacher told me I had writing talent
  • 1984: a newspaper editor said I was a “very good writer”
  • 1984-present: I worked for three different newspapers; won some newswriting awards; wrote more than 150 magazine articles; became a professional indexer with more than 200 to my credit (so far); had a middle-grade novel released; indie-published three novels and an anthology with friends; and had two non-fiction books published.
  • 2023: “Rightside/Wrongside,” my dystopian matriarchal fantasy, debuts today from The Wild Rose Press!

“Rightside/Wrongside” developed from a thought about the absurdity of one sex dominating the other. What would happen if the Middle Ages dynamic between the sexes was reversed? What if women had a turn at being in control?

I loved the idea, but the actual writing took more than a dozen years. After several starts and stops, it was finally finished in 2017. Being tired of the indie-publishing slog, I decided to look for an agent. Sixty-seven rejections later, the R/W files got buried and forgotten.

Fast-forward to 2022. I signed up for a pitch appointment at a local writers’ conference, and lightning struck. I signed a contract with Wild Rose, and here we are!

In Rightside, women are in charge of everything. Men live behind a 200-mile Fence in Wrongside, and can only see women when the women feel like having sex. Sounds great so far, doesn’t it?

But there are difficulties (of course). Women keep their daughters, and men never know of them. Sons are sent across the Fence to their fathers, and their mothers never know if they live or die.

Women live in a rigid, stifling society plagued with political strife, smuggling, and sabotage. Men live in a lackluster kind of way, raising their boys and not caring much about the kind of society they live in.

Things start to come to a head. In Rightside, Jessie takes an illegal test to discover the sex of her baby. It’s a boy, and she vows she won’t send him to Wrongside alone. Her friend Tenosha has already sent a son across the Fence, then vows she can’t live without him.

In Wrongside, childless Bud sees a smuggled piece of Rightside art depicting a mother and daughter. For the first time, he vows to find out if he ever fathered a daughter. Doc Medina pines over a woman he met once for sex, and vows to find her somehow.

Things fall apart, trouble escalates, civil war erupts. When the last shot is fired and the last combatant falls, both sides realize their way of life is untenable and they need to begin talking to each other. My next book, “Oceanside,” will continue their story.

EXCERPT

The old man dozed over his paperback. Even in a busy week his job was boring as hell. What made it worthwhile, besides the status and the pay bag, was the free bed. Old Willie lived right in the Transfer Cabin, backed up against the Border Fence in Cody, and that suited him fine. He took his meals at a bar down the street – had a few good friends there – and spent most of his free time nodding over a book or stoking his small stove.

It was a nice quiet life, a safe life. Nobody bothered the man in the Transfer Cabin. Yeah, it suited him fine.

The bell rang, startling him out of his doze. It wasn’t a simple ring, for boxed goods or vehicles through the big Door, but the four-note flourish they used for a baby. It sounded again, signaling two to transfer. “It never rains but it pours,” he mumbled, and limped over to answer the bell.

When the ready light flashed on, Old Willie pulled out the heavy metal Drawer set into the back wall of the cabin. He smiled down at the two sleeping babies.

“Welcome to Wrongside,” he said softly.

The babies didn’t even wake up as Willie started his paperwork. That was good – it would give him time to heat some bottles after he finished.

He puzzled over the babies’ names, rolling possibilities slowly across his tongue. “Trader, Travis, Trevor? Brandon, Bert, Brock, Buford?”

Willie liked naming babies. It was his favorite part of the job. The last few transfer agents had been lackadaisical about it – most folks around here were named Bob or Mike or Tom – but Old Willie tried to be creative. He had an antique pre-Settlement book on baby names, and it was brittle and dog-eared with age and use.

“Henry, Hollis, Hoss, Hud?”

The dark-haired baby let out a wail.

“Okay, Hud, you little asshole, couldn’t wait till I was finished, could you?” Willie scolded. He picked up the crying infant and slung him over one shoulder, cradling the head carefully.

“You’ll just damn well have to ride over here with me till I get you a bottle warmed up,” he said, heading for the kitchen.

The baby, lulled by the warmth of Old Willie’s body and the rumble of his voice, drifted back to sleep.

Willie peeked down at the closed eyes. “Little asshole,” he commented absently.

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS

www.cathyseckman.com

Cathy Hester Seckman (Author of Ohio Day Trips by Theme) | Goodreads (20+) Facebook

A Father’s Inspiration

TODAY’S GUEST POST FROM author LISABET SARAI!!

My latest book, Serpent’s Kiss, is dedicated to my father. He has been gone for for nearly fifteen years, but I still feel his presence, every day. During the time since his passing, the pain of loss has healed. I’ve come to understand that he’ll always be with me, in my memories and in my heart.

More than any other individual, it was my dad who inspired me to read, and to write. He had the gift of words, and passed it on to his children. I recall him reading aloud to my siblings and me, folk tales, fairy stories, adventures like Treasure Island and Robinson Crusoe. He told his own stories, too, inventing worlds and characters for our pleasure. There were the Gulkons, terrible demons who lived in the fire on the hearth, and Houligan, the god of snow. (I grew up in chilly, stormy New England.) I still remember sitting spellbound while Dad recounted his story of the hapless wizard Thomas Carl Sefney who had to touch his wand to every one of the monster’s thousand tentacles before it consumed him.

Both my parents encouraged me to write. My first poems date from about third grade. During my childhood I wrote fantasies about Martians and ghosts, and plays about the Beatles and politics. In my adolescence, too shy to speak to any of my crushes, I poured out my adoration in anguished free verse. In my twenties and thirties, I wrote science fiction and first tried my hand at romance. Finally, in my forties, I actually managed to publish something (other than in my high school newspaper). My first thought was to call my father.

My dad and I shared favorite books, characters and authors. When he and I got talking about Sherlock Holmes or Frodo Baggins, H.P. Lovecraft or Edgar Allen Poe or Anne Rice, the rest of the family would roll their eyes and leave us to our obsessions. I never had any difficulty figuring out what gift to get him for his birthday or Father’s Day. There was always some book that I had seen or heard about that I knew he’d love.

I never did introduce him to my erotica, though. I was so tempted to show him the pile of paperbacks with my name on the cover, the multiple volumes I had penned or edited. I wanted to autograph him a copy of my first novel, telling him how much he had contributed to my literary endeavors. I wanted him to be proud. However, I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. I recalled the way he reacted when I gave him Anne Rice’s BDSM classic The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty – an embarrassed grin and a “oh, that’s interesting”. We didn’t discuss that book much. Though I would have welcomed the opportunity to open up to him about my own pursuits in the world of sex and sensuality, dominance and submission, I sensed that he would rather not know.

I guess that there are just some things you can’t share with your parents, no matter how close you are. But at very least, I can acknowledge him as my lifelong inspiration.

OUR STORY:

When a woman atoning for past sins heals the human avatar of an ancient god, she’s drawn into a perilous dance of destiny and desire.

From the first, Dr. Elena Navarro senses that the wounded man she discovers outside the gate of her rural clinic is not an ordinary mortal. With his chest ripped open, Jorge Pélikal still demonstrates unnatural strength and power. Elena is irresistibly attracted to Jorge, although he warns her their coupling could open the gates of chaos and cost her life. Despite his dire predictions, they fall in love. Gradually Elena comes to understand that Jorge is a supernatural player in a cosmic drama that will determine the fate of the earth and of mankind—and that even if he triumphs in his apocalyptic struggle with his nemesis, she may lose him forever.

Note: Serpent’s Kiss was previously published by Totally Entwined. This new edition has been re-edited, revised and expanded.

Reader Advisory: This book may not be appropriate for individuals with a fear of snakes.

Excerpt :

“Doctora!” The voice rose out of the darkness—the voice of the man who had vanished that morning from a sealed room, leaving no trace but a brilliant, multi-colored feather. As if conjured by her thoughts, Jorge Pélikal emerged from the shadows. He waited at the foot of the steps, mutely requesting her permission to ascend.

He looked far healthier than when she had seen him last. His step was firm and strong, with no indication that he was in pain. His hair cascaded over his shoulders, gleaming in the light of the rising moon. She could not see his face—he was still too distant—but she could smell him. Vanilla and wood-smoke—the same scents that were evoked by the mysterious token she had found under the bed.

He was dressed in rough-woven trousers and a peasant’s cotton tunic, all in white. His skin, in contrast, was a deep cocoa-brown.

Elena’s heart rose into her throat. He was beautiful. He was dangerous—she sensed this—not because of what he might do, but because of who he was. But who exactly was he?

“Jorge! Why did you run away?” She gestured for him to join her on the porch. In an instant, he stood in front of her, a half-smile on his full lips.

He grasped her hands. His skin was cool now, and moist like the jungle night. His fever is gone, she thought gratefully. Joy bubbled up in her chest. She almost laughed. She had thought that she would never see him again.

“I had no choice. I was in grave danger. And by remaining in your clinic, I was placing you in danger.”

“Moving when your chest has been ripped open and is held together by nothing more than a few feeble stitches wasn’t exactly the safest thing to do,” she scolded. “But I’m happy to see that you’re so much better.”

“Much better, thanks to you…Elena.” He squeezed her hands. Desire raced through her, sharp, irrational, irresistible. “I’m sorry that I had to return and place you at risk once again. But I left something behind. Something important.”

“I know. I have it, hidden safely away.”

He searched her face, apparently trying to determine how much she knew about the feather. “Give it to me, then, and I’ll leave you in peace.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No—I don’t want you to go. I’ll give you the feather, but only if you promise to spend the night with me.” Listening to herself, Elena was appalled. What was she saying?

She had not planned this. She was keeping the feather for him and had honestly intended to return it. But now she wanted him, with a single-mindedness that drove out all reason. She would do anything to satisfy this uncharacteristic craving. She could not let him escape again.

He cupped her cheek in one of his strong brown hands. Elena nearly swooned.

“You don’t know what you’re asking. It’s not possible.”

“I know what I want. What I need. And I won’t return the feather until you give it to me.”

He removed his hand, leaving her mourning for his touch. “I could force you.” Though his voice was soft, his words rang with power.

“Go ahead and try.” Elena’s words were defiant, but there were tears in her eyes.

“You don’t understand what you ask. If we couple, you and I, we will open the gates of chaos.” He hovered close, leaning over her, gazing into her eyes. His scent made her dizzy.

“I don’t care. So be it.”

“No. I dare not, Señora.” Taking a step backward, he glanced around the porch, as if seeking a way to push past her and enter the clinic. She moved to block the door, legs apart and hands on her hips.

Perplexity marked his handsome features. She didn’t doubt he was strong enough to physically overpower her, but he seemed reluctant to do so.

“Please.” Now his voice held a note of supplication. “Be reasonable, Elena.”

“Don’t you want me?”

“What I want does not matter. I must do my duty and refuse you. The tasks before me will be difficult enough without the distraction of love.”

Love? That wasn’t what she was asking for, was it? The desire that raged through her seemed as far from love as a fierce hurricane from a gentle spring shower. At the same time, her intuition told her that a single night in Jorge’s arms would never be enough.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1317-serpents-kiss/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CL2HPVV4

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CL2HPVV4

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1465062

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/serpents-kiss-lisabet-sarai/1017488008?ean=2940166119209

Kobo  – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/serpent-s-kiss-26

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6469359665

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/199721219-serpent-s-kiss

Add on BookBub – https://www.bookbub.com/books/serpent-s-kiss-by-lisabet-sarai-2023-10-15

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, LGBTQ, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh


Could you spend a night at the Stanley?

Welcome my guest, author Terry Segan!!

Who wants to tour a haunted hotel? You should all have your hand up! After all, it’s Halloween season.

While I write paranormal mysteries that are pure fiction, I love a good ghost story based on reality. My tour of The Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, CO, fed those cravings. I’ll tell you upfront that I did not see any spirits with my own eyes (insert disappointed foot stomp here), but the whole time spent had a spooky vibe, which I loved.

The first surprise about the hotel is that it’s a stone’s throw from the town of Estes Park. As hauntingly beautiful the drive to The Overlook Hotel is depicted in Stephen King’s The Shining, it is not off by its lonesome. Rolling up to the actual structure, however, wiped away any disappointment as the hotel is simply majestic.

Of course, there were many touches referring back to the original movie, despite not being filmed there. It surprised me to hear from the tour guide that Stephen King and his family only spent a single night. The author received enough inspiration from the setting and the stories told by the staff that he wrote the novel.

My tour guide not only believed in spirits, but related personal encounters she’d had at The Stanley. She also shared pictures of apparitions that were sent to her from previous guests. Room 217 has been renamed after the famous writer who stayed there, and reservations for the suite are booked out two years. The only paranormal experience I had took place in a large room on the ground floor, which had once been the bar. Immediately upon entering, most guests (myself included) felt a heaviness to the air.

Many of the historical facts about the two Stanley brothers, who built the structure, can be found online. My attraction for the place lies in the paranormal aspects attributed to the hotel. As a writer, much of my own inspiration comes from places I’ve lived or visited. Every trip I take leads me to create plot lines, scenes, and even mishaps which could find their way to the pages of my books.

Today’s release of Manatee Soul, The Marni Legend Series Book 2, came about from a girls’ trip to Crystal River, FL. My two main characters, Marni and her sister, Gloria, participate in some of the tourist activities I enjoyed. While my travel companion and I both willingly ventured into the water, Gloria didn’t have quite the same enthusiasm, as you’ll discover. Add in Phil, a snarky ghost demanding the sisters’ attention, and you’ll embark on quite the aquatic adventure.

Book & Author Details:

Title: Manatee Soul

Author: Terry Segan

Blurb:

Marni Legend has embarked on the most perilous journey of her life—a vacation with her sister. The women are like two peas in a pod, providing each pod came from a different mother ship. One day into their Florida adventure, Marni questions her choice of travel partner. Gloria strives to understand her carefree younger sibling while kayaking and snorkeling without chipping a nail.

With nothing but eternity on his hands, Phil insists the sisters resolve the circumstances of his untimely demise. The wise-cracking spirit leads them on a trail filled with bartenders, bikers, and the promise of a hidden treasure.

Her greatest challenge will either be enduring a week with Gloria or surviving the thugs searching for the stolen booty. Can Marni figure out who to trust, who to avoid, and who she’d most likely want to be trapped alone in an elevator with?

EXCERPT

“What’s wrong? Can’t hold your liquor?” Phil quirked from beside the outer rail.

“You are not allowed to comment,” Gloria rasped.

“Why not? This is terribly amusing.” Phil stood with arms crossed.

“We went to the bar because of you,” Gloria said.

“And did I make you down several beers and shots of tequila?” Phil asked.

Gloria put a palm to her forehead. “Can you talk quieter? I can’t handle shouting right now.”

Phil snickered.

“Phil, give her a break. She’s not used to playing the wild girl.”

“And I’m not used to playing the dead guy. Guess we all have our issues. At least she’ll recover from hers.”

She sucked down more soda. “Why is he still here?”

“Because you haven’t helped me to move on. You really are slacking on your responsibilities.” He shook his head.

Letting out a loud gasp, Gloria said, “I don’t mean here, like still on this planet. I mean why are you still here on our balcony? If you don’t stop prattling, my head will explode.”

Phil rubbed his hands together. “Now that would be fun to watch. And by the way, I do not prattle.”

“Just let me die in peace.” Did she end that comment with a growl?

“If that were to happen, then we’d be together for eternity.” Phil clapped his hands together like an excited toddler. “Marni, quick, more tequila.”

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Manatee-Soul-Marni-Legend-Book-ebook/dp/B0CF6HFHKD

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1143894199

KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/manatee-soul

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/195939375-manatee-soul

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/manatee-soul-the-marni-legend-series-book-2-by-terry-segan

Author Website: https://terrysegan.com/

Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/AuthorTerrySegan

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/terrysegan

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SeganTerry

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@authorterrysegan

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Terry-Segan/e/B087YQGXMD

BIO

Terry Segan, originally from Commack, NY, now resides in the desert where she’ll never require an ice scraper or snow shovel again. The beach is her happy place, but any opportunity to travel soothes her gypsy soul. The stories conjured by her imagination while riding backseat on her husband’s motorcycle can be found throughout the pages of her paranormal mysteries. Growing up immersed in sarcastic humor and science fiction movies, Terry’s goals are to cause her readers to laugh out loud, cry with joy, or cower under the covers wondering if the noise under the bed was real or imagined.

For those special kind of toys…

And now for the adventurous side…CONTENT WARNING: This promo is for an erotic steampunk novel…so be governed accordingly.

Please welcome our storyteller, Lisabet Sarai!

Who is Gillian Smith?

Gillian Smith, the heroine of my Toymakers Guild series, is a scientific genius and a sexual adventurer. She’s only nineteen when she shows up at the door of Randerley Hall, successfully figures out the access code and demonstrates sufficient talent in both the technical and carnal realms to win a place for herself among the secretive and selective band of erotic artificers.

As the series continues, she becomes more mature, taming some of her impulsiveness and learning to understand the nuances of desire. She assumes increasing responsibility for the work of the Guild, providing design guidance and supervising the other engineers. Meanwhile, she remains open to the varied opportunities for sensual pleasure offered by Guild membership. She understands that lust is the lubricant for the Guild’s creativity and that despite the outrageous ways that it is sometimes expressed, the bonds among the Toymakers go far beyond the physical.

Authors often – perhaps even always – use aspects of themselves when creating their characters. Nevertheless, Gillian is not me. When I was nineteen, I was a dreamy bookworm, not an engineer. While she is bold and self-confident, I was painfully shy. Her appearance – tall, slender, with curly reddish hair – has little in common with my short, curvy build and mousy brown locks.

Still, at her age I was as fascinated by sex as she is, if nowhere near as active. As I grew older, that fascination deepened. I began to explore my kinks and cravings and live out my fantasies in a manner that she’d understand. I’ve had sexual adventures she’d find quite familiar. In the meantime, my view of sexuality ended up having quite a lot in common with hers – that even what seems like casual lust has emotional and spiritual dimensions.

I also must admit to basing some of Gillian’s emotions and behavior as a technical project leader on my own experience. I did end up as an engineer of sorts: a software engineer. Most of the technology in the Toymakers Guild series comes straight out of my imagination. I couldn’t wire a motor or machine a set of gears to save my life. But I do know what it’s like trying to deal with bugs in your programs when you’re facing a critical deadline. I understand the heavy burden of responsibility that comes with commitments that seem impossible to fulfill.

So, yes, Jill and I do share some traits and beliefs, though there’s more than a century between our worlds and half a century between our ages.  To me, though, she’s an independent individual – and after three novels, remarkably real. As an author, I’m amazed by the way characters develop over the course of writing a book. They begin as a sketch, perhaps borrowing from people we know (including ourselves), but before long they have lives of their own. Having followed her for more than three years and two hundred fifty thousand words, I know who Gillian Smith is. Honestly, though, I don’t know where she came from.

At Randerley Hall, lust is a lubricant to creativity. Nothing is impossible. Nothing is forbidden.

Defying the repressive morality of the Victorian era, the Toymakers Guild uses advanced technology to fabricate bespoke sexual devices for the discrete pleasure of select clients. Its members are not only brilliant engineers but also sexual renegades seeking freedom from the prudish society that surrounds them.

Nineteen-year-old prodigy Gillian Smith arrives at Randerley to apply for an apprenticeship in the Guild. With her technical abilities and her lascivious temperament, she is eminently suited to join the Master Toymaker’s close-knit band of uninhibited erotic artisans. Gillian flourishes among the Toymakers, designing and implementing ever-more-outrageous carnal contraptions. Each voluptuous commission she completes, each sensual adventure she enjoys, binds her more tightly to the Guild and to the perverse, tortured genius who is its founder.

If you like brilliant, wanton women and kinky steam punk sex toys, dive into the alternate universe of the The Toymakers Guild.

Buy Links

Available exclusively on Amazon:

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https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-toymakers-guild-the-complete-series-by-lisabet-sarai

EXCERPT:

Gillian stepped into a vast space, two storeys high, luxuriously panelled in dark wood. Excitement made her heart race. The place was like something from a dream.

Overhead, a dome of leaded glass bathed the room in daylight. At the second storey level, a semi-circular gallery followed the curving walls, reachable from a stair to her left. Arrayed on the wall to her right was a dazzling collection of pliers, metal snips, tweezers, wrenches, hammers, drills, clamps, vices, springs, glass tubes, rubber piping, brass flanges, hydraulic cylinders, coils of wire, gears and pulleys, switches and dials, gauges and meters—every sort of tool and part she’d ever encountered as well as many that were unfamiliar.

On the far wall hung parts of another sort: hands, fingers, feet, splayed thighs, open mouths, as well as phalluses of varied proportions. She could not determine the materials from across the room, though some of the models looked startlingly life-like. Her diligent studies of the catalogue suggested some might be fashioned of leather, others from India rubber.

Several large workbenches filled the centre of the room, each cabled with its own electric lighting fixture dangling from a rack above. Ian and Archie huddled together at the closest table, peering through a magnifier at a mess of wiring.

“Mr. Burns! Mr. Fawcett! Let me officially introduce our new apprentice. This is Gillian Smith.”

Archie looked up, startled. “What? You accepted a girl?”

“Provisionally.” Amelia frowned at the florid young man. “Subject to the Master’s final approval. Meanwhile, I expect you to welcome her, introduce her to our procedures and processes, and put her to work.”

“I’ll put her to work, for sure,” Ian muttered.

“What did you say, Mr. Burns?”

“Um, nothing, ma’am.”

The director stepped closer to the contraption on the bench. “Is this the circuitry for the Marlborough device?”

Ian swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And do you have it functioning yet?”

“Almost,” Archie volunteered. “Just one more small problem to fix, and we’ll be ready to test.”

“Indeed.” She scrutinised the web of copper strands for several minutes, then turned to Gillian. “Perhaps you can assist them, Miss Smith. They appear to be somewhat out of their depth.”

Apparently feeling that this was sufficient instruction, Mrs. Featherstone headed for the door, but she paused exiting. “I shall see you all at dinner. And I shall expect a full report on your progress. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Mrs. Featherstone,” the young men chimed in unison.

Gillian just grinned.

Ian and Archie wore glum expressions in the wake of Amelia’s departure.

“So what’s the problem?” Gillian asked.

“You know about electrical stuff?” Archie asked.

“To some extent. My father taught me the basics.”

“Main motor’s not getting power,” said Ian.

“Or else the motor itself is defective,” countered Archie.

“Impossible. I’ve built a dozen motors with this design.”

“Well, I’ve successfully wired at least two dozen dildos.” Archie grimaced in Gillian’s direction. “He does mechanical, mostly. I do electrical. How about you?”

“I have some experience with both types of work, though my speciality is mathematics and logic.” She stepped closer to the circular magnifier.  “Might I take a look?”

“Be our guest,” said Ian. “We are well and truly stuck.”

Under the lens, every detail of the circuitry became clear. In fact, the design was quite elegant, the layout logical and precise. She scanned the interwoven wires, focusing on their connections. In thirty seconds, she had located the fault.

“There,” she said. “Between pins fourteen and fifteen. The solder is not adhering.” Backing away, she let Archie look.

“By Jove, you’re right.” A smile lit his boyish face. “Thank you!”

“May I try fixing it? Just for practice?”  She added a bit of softness to her voice, a tentative quality that did not reflect her true nature. The last thing she wanted was to intimidate the other apprentices.

“Why not?” said Archie gallantly. “If you have trouble, I can take over.”

He handed her a length of solder and a tiny torch. The tip where the flame emerged could not have been more than a sixteenth of an inch in diameter. Gillian had never seen anything so marvellous.

It took no more than a minute for her to melt the silvery metal into a miniscule blob that bridged the two wires. She surveyed the circuit again. “That’s the only issue that I can see. Why don’t you switch it on, Archie? We can see if that did the trick.”

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

When you find the man of your dreams… and he disappears

Welcome sister lawyer author Seelie Kay and her latest, SAINT CON!! Let’s get to know her first.

Q. Why do you write romance?
It began as a way to relieve the stress of a career as a lawyer/journalist and dealing with MS “on the side.” Writing has always been my outlet and the best way to break away from reality for a bit was to write romance. Plus, I love happy endings. I get rather emotional (yes, I’m a crier) but it’s a wonderful release.
Q. Do you prefer a certain type of romantic hero?
I adore smart, dashing gentlemen who aren’t afraid to live on the edge. They can be a lawyer, a bad boy, a billionaire, a prince, or a secret agent. That hint of danger just hooks me! However, they have to be paired with strong, independent women who aren’t afraid to fight for what they want, even love. And brains over brawn, every time!
Q. Why did you write “Saint Con?”
It all began when I woke up to an AMBER and SENIOR alert on my phone. For some reason, I began to wonder why I never saw an alert for an able-bodied adult gone missing. I did a little research and found that in WI, only proof of harm or the passage of 72 hours will trigger a missing person’s investigation.
The burden of finding an able-bodied adult falls on friends and family. That just seems wrong, because most people don’t have the skill or resources to conduct an investigation. However, as you learn from crime shows, the first 72 hours are critical to gathering evidence and finding a missing person. Suddenly, I had the plot, and I knew I wanted to incorporate a character I had been playing with, a street lawyer for the homeless. “Saint Con” was born.
Q. You pretty much use lawyers as your main characters. Why?
It’s what I know. After 30 years, the law and the legal world are so firmly embedded in my brain that I can’t flush them out. That has become the lens through which I view the world and that naturally guides my characters and plots. Injustice infuriates me, but it also leads me to great stories. Even in this book, I find a way to explore social and criminal justice issues.

It was a night dreams are made of, until the man of Jessica Knight’s dreams disappears.

Genre: Romantic Suspense

It was a night dreams are made of, until the man of Jessica Knight’s dreams disappears.

When self-proclaimed good girl Jessica Knight literally bumps into apparent bad boy Connor O’Brien in a suburban Milwaukee wine bar, she is skeptical—of his intentions and the prospect for real love. A former priest, Saint Con is now a street lawyer for Milwaukee’s homeless. After a night of sizzling romance, Jess begins to thaw, and in the days that follow, she is so charmed by Con that she allows herself to start falling in love. Unfortunately, on their first real date, Con fails to appear. Jess doesn’t know if she’s been ghosted or if Con was unavoidably detained, but she leaves their meeting spot devastated.

Until she discovers that Con is missing. Really missing.

The police won’t help because he’s not a vulnerable adult nor is there proof that he has been harmed. So, it falls to Jess and her friends to find him. After surmounting numerous obstacles, Con is finally found, gravely injured and in a coma. Suddenly, it appears a promising love match may be over before it really began.

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * eXtasyBooks * Bookbub * Goodreads

Award-winning author Seelie Kay writes scintillating tales of lawyers in love, sometimes with a dash of kink.

Writing under a nom de plume, the former lawyer and journalist draws her stories from more than 30 years in the legal world. Seelie’s wicked pen has resulted in more than 24 works of fiction, including the new paranormal romance series Donovan Trait, as well the erotic romance Kinky Briefs series and The Feisty Lawyers romantic suspense series. She also authored The Last Christmas, The Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, The President’s Wife, The President’s Daughter, Seizing Hope, The White House Wedding, and participated in the romance anthology Pieces of Us.

When not spinning romantic tales, Seelie ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. Currently, she resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, WI, where she enjoys opera, the Green Bay Packers, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.

Seelie is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!

Seelie can be reached at http://www.seeliekay.com, http://www.seeliekay.blogspot.com, or on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, or TikTok.

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The latest in the Stranger Creatures series!

Kylie Claremont wants answers. She was the victim of a brutal experiment that caused her to develop telekinetic abilities. The position she’s offered as a liaison between Shifters United and the Psy Guild will give her the chance to find the elusive research company that disappeared after experimenting on her and bring them to justice. The only thing standing in her way is an arrogant coyote shifter who is convinced that Kylie is a threat to shifters and shouldn’t be allowed to be a part of Shifters United. She never expected to fall for the gruff, mistrusting man.

Coyote shifter Trevor Ryland will never trust the psy. Still, he knows the time has come to strengthen the tentative alliance between shifters and psy. He fully intends to ignore his attraction to the beautiful psy liaison, but he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her. His plan to protect Kylie from afar is wrecked when they’re forced to work together. She could be his mate but Trevor can’t let that happen. The struggle to deny his need for the one woman with the power to destroy him gets harder every day.

Trevor and Kylie uncover a web of greed and deceit during their search for a travelling research group. They’ll have to work fast and fight hard to stop the CEO’s latest plans or shifters and psy everywhere will suffer.

EXCERPT:

Kylie told Trevor, “I’ve heard about coyotes’ trust issues, as well as some of their other issues. Believe me, as much you want nothing to do with me, not even for a fun, adrenaline come-down session, I have no desire to spend any unnecessary time around you either.”

He wanted to tell her that being with her that night would have been so much more than a quick moment in the sheets to ride the adrenaline high of a rescue nearly gone wrong, but he didn’t dare, instead he signed, “I don’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with me.”

Kylie glared at him. “And no offense but coyotes seem wired wrong if they can’t deal with a break up or a backstabbing. When someone screws you over, you’re supposed to cry, punch things, get a little more cynical, maybe exact a plan for petty revenge, and then move on.”

She’d twisted a knife into the heart of the truth. Coyote shifters were wired just a little wrong. They were more feral than other shifters and needed more time in their animal form. Their curving canines were designed for causing maximum pain and damage. Their claws could shred any living creature in seconds. Coyotes were often gruff and not too sociable but they used their strength and abilities to protect the people who needed protecting.

“Yes. I’m,”since he didn’t know the sign for the word defective, he signed “broken,”then added, “and not good to people who deserve better.”

She closed her eyes and took in a breath as if she were gathering strength for something. When she met his gaze again, he couldn’t look away. She had the most beautiful eyes, whether they were cold or angry or full of passion. Hell, if he could tell a joke and hear her laugh again like she had in her hotel room, her light might destroy him. Not happening. She thinks I’m defective anyway.

Purchase Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZT58GXZ

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/coyotes-vow-christina-lynn-lambert/1143274092?ean=2940185830819

Apple iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/coyotes-vow/id6447381379?ign-itscg=30200&ign-itsct=books_box_link

Kobo Books: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/coyote-s-vow

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1370196

Google Books: Coyote’s Vow by Christina Lynn Lambert – Books on Google Play

Author Bio:

Before I had the wild idea to write a book, I worked in a few different fields. I was in sales for a while, and after I finished college, I worked as a case manager. When my children were little, I was a personal trainer and running coach. During the evenings, when I was supposed to be studying for another fitness training certification, I started writing a story. Finally, I gave in and acknowledged that writing is what I’m meant to do. I love creating imperfect but determined characters who find the courage to love and the strength to survive in a world where there are no guarantees. My stories include a fair amount of sarcasm, suspense, steam, and violence. When I’m not writing, I enjoy spending time outside and finding ways to avoid cooking. I live in beautiful Virginia with my husband, two teenagers, a sweet, hairy monster of a dog, and two devious cats. 

Author Social Media Links:

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Christina-Lynn-Lambert/e/B01MCYK0K7

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The latest from Cynthia Terelst!

Coming out July 31, 2023!

Love can heal the scars on your heart

Lachlan

So what if I’ve gone through four nannies in three short years? I know what’s best for my children and it’s not the nanny my mother and ex-wife have hired.

Peyton may be all kinds of beautiful but she is totally unsuitable—city girl, former doctor and no experience.

Problem is, everybody loves her. I don’t want to feel the same; one failure at love is enough. Besides, I have a duty to my family and the farm.

Except the more I spend time with her, the more I’m drawn to her honesty and bravery. I need to remember, a farm is no place for a woman like Peyton; she will not stay.

Peyton

After an accident put an end to my surgical career, I jumped at the opportunity to be a nanny. Moving to Australia will get me away from my controlling family. It’s time I start making my own decisions.

But falling for my boss is not the wisest one I could make, even if it feels right. It doesn’t hurt that his singing makes my panties melt.

Everything is perfect—I feel heard and seen for the first time (and I don’t just mean my scars).

I’m where I belong…until my family get involved. Then I’m left with no job and no home.

Now I need to make the biggest decision of all—stand up to my family, choose my happy and fight for love.

**This is a standalone romance with medium heat**

Excerpts:

Two figures made their way down the stairs. I knew Ann instantly from our video calls.

The man beside her was striking. Sunlight glinted off his thick golden-brown hair like surgical blades would shine under focused lighting. He was tanned and muscular with tattoos down one arm, a mixture of black and white and colour, indistinct at this distance. Wowsers, I didn’t know farmers looked like that. I blushed. While Ann oozed warmth, he oozed stoic resignation.

***

“Peyton.” Lachlan’s voice aroused me from my sleep. I forced my eyes open. I was lying on the couch. Where were the kids? Lachlan reached out for the remote and turned the TV off. I must have fallen asleep during the movie.

“It’s time for bed,” he said.

I didn’t want to move. My eyes were awake, but the rest of my body was in slumberland. My eyes wanted to follow. 

“Do I need to carry you to bed like the kids?”

I let out a soft laugh. “I’m quite a lot heavier than a child.” 

“You don’t think I could?”

“No.”

Before I could swing my legs around to sit up, Lachlan had lifted me from the couch. I yelped. Then to help him with my weight, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. I breathed in grass and man. Good man, not just aftershave and cleanliness. Earth and strength.

I melded into him, swaying with every step he took. Being in his strong arms, I felt secure. I shouldn’t feel like this. But I didn’t try to jump out of his arms. What was I doing? 

“Show off,” I mumbled against his shoulder.

“Just proving you wrong.”

He walked into my room and made his way to my bed.

“Is it wrong to like you?” I asked. My heart beat fast in my chest. Would he think I was stupid?

He lay me down on the bed. His face was shadowed. Was he going to answer?

“No, it’s not wrong.”

He bent down and kissed my temple softly.

Oh, the sweetness of it. I sighed. My eyes closed as my body floated in bliss. 

“I like you too.”

Was I dreaming?

I opened my eyes. He was gone.

Buy Link – https://books2read.com/Bull?store=amazon

Author Bio

Cynthia Terelst is an Australian author based in regional Queensland, where the sun shines 283 days a year. She is a document controls manager by day and a writer by night. Her contemporary romance novels share a little bit of history, some Australian scenery and a whole lotta love. Cynthia does not shy away from difficult topics, as she feels they should not be ignored.

Terelst has published seven books in her Love Down Under Series and has added short stories to multiple anthologies. She refers to her writing style as heat with heart. Her stories will leave you feeling warm and hopeful.

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Remember Chincoteague?

PLEASE WELCOME M.S. SPENCER!

Thank you so much, Alana, for giving me space to talk about my new mystery The Wishing Tree: Love, Lies, and Spies on Chincoteague Island.

My family has been going to Chincoteague for decades, and my mother is buried there. We loved birding and beaching.  Addison (my heroine) says about Chincoteague, “there is something about it—hardscrabble, rough, enduring, clinging to its roots with all its might in the face of an implacable Mother Nature.”

While most people draw a blank when I mention Chincoteague, they perk up when I mention the ponies. Assateague salt hay ponies—probably descended from shipwrecked horse—were made famous by Marguerite Henry’s books, especially Misty of Chincoteague. There’s a statue on Main Street of Misty. The ponies are still there. There are several herds, maintained by the Chincoteague Fire Department, which holds the famous annual Pony Swim. Every July they round up the horses and swim them across the channel from Assateague to Chincoteague, where they are auctioned off. Many people choose to sponsor a pony—leaving him on the island but monitoring his welfare.

OUR STORY:

Will the wind whip her token from the Wishing Tree and make her wish come true?

Addison Steele dreams of the day her husband—lost at sea—returns to her. Instead, she meets Nick Savage, whose every word may be a lie. She is soon embroiled in mystery, all related to the top secret science station at Wallops Island, Virginia.

After a Belarusian scientist at Wallops is murdered, the questions multiply. Was it because he caught the person stealing classified documents or because he wanted to defect? Is Nick the spy—or is it his brother? How can she trust the man who is slowly claiming her heart when his story keeps shifting?

Excerpt: Cheyenne, the Pony & the Lounge

He gestured at the passenger’s side door. “May I offer you a drink? I thought I’d head to that place on Main Street for something to raise my temperature.”

“You mean Dobie’s?”

“That’s the one. The upstairs bar is called something else though.”

“Cheyenne’s Lounge. Cheyenne is Dobie’s mare.”

“Mare? Isn’t that a little chauvinist?”

“What? No, he sponsors her. He…” She petered out.

He grinned. “I knew what you meant. Cheyenne is one of the salt hay ponies that locals can sponsor, right?”

She nodded, relieved. “Yes.”

“So, how about that drink?” When Addison looked pointedly at her car, he held up a palm. “Oh, I see. Well, you can leave it here, and I’ll bring you back.”

Did he just wink? Despite her attraction, her mother’s voice rang in her ear. Never get in a car with a stranger. She cleared her throat. “No…urk…no, thanks. The refuge closes at dusk. The entrance is barred.”

“I see. I could drop you off at your house then.”

Oh, and never let him know where you live. “Then I’d have to find a ride back to the refuge in the morning. So…sorry.”

His friendly optimism dissipated. “Oh. Well. Then I guess I’ll see you around the ’hood.”

“No! I meant…I’ll meet you there.” She smirked. “A hot toddy would be nice.”

His eyes narrowed. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, it’s a standing joke around here. The bartender at Dobie’s is nicknamed Toddy.”

“I see. Does he entertain?”

“Huh?”

“You know…” He wiggled his hips. “Do a pole dance or strip?”

“God, no.” She envisioned the squat old man with the pug nose. “God. No.”

“Well, let’s hope he knows how to make a good hot toddy, then.”

He fired up the tank and rumbled over the sand to the refuge road. Addison’s Subaru felt like a wind-up toy trundling along behind him. They’d almost reached the ticket booth at the entrance to the refuge when she remembered that she hadn’t made her usual prayer to the storm gods to take her token and bring her husband back.

The Wishing Tree: Love, Lies, and Spies on Chincoteague Island

The Wild Rose Press, July 17, 2023

First Edition, 2023

368 p.; PG-13

Murder mystery (Cozy), Romantic Suspense

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About the Author

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

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Any husband in a pinch?

She never wanted an arranged marriage. Now she’s got the husband to prove it.

Blurb:

Marrying a perfect stranger to nix Neha’s parents’ plans to marry her off seemed to be a great idea. It was for show only, after all. That is, it was until Neha’s powerful father threatened to have the marriage annulled so she’d be free for the fiancé he had chosen for her. Neha thought hard and long for a sanctuary, but the only place that came to her mind was her husband’s. And so she was stuck in exactly the scenario she had tried to avoid: make-do with a stranger as a husband.

Someone I Chose takes off where the second book in Ella Braeme’s Married in Windfall series ended, yet it is part of the multi-author Hallow Fall series, set in the Colorado mountains. If you like small-town romances about reluctant lovers, you’ll love this one.

This is a standalone novella for a mature audience.

About Ella Braeme:

I’ve dreamed of being a writer since I had learned how to read. The first stories I sold when still in grade school were handwritten. Then life got into this writer’s way and it took me decades to start writing again. My romances are short, a little over the top, with a pinch of sizzling heat—in short: The perfect getaway.

Someone I Chose is my third book and part of my Married in Windfall series. This is the first time a book of mine is part of a multi-author series, Hallow Falls. It was fun to work together with other authors and make our stories intertwine.

Tags:

small-town romance, marriage of convenience, steamy, novella

Excerpt:

And then the bouquet hit the fan.

Like in a movie, suddenly everything became so slow that one could perceive many things at the same time. At first, laughter bubbled up in Neha. The bouquet toss ending in the large ceiling fan was funny, after all. The dismayed cries of the single ladies that had been fighting over the best spot to catch the flowers were funny, too. Neha hadn’t meant to be part of this stupid game. She had no intention at all to be the next bride, thank you very much.

The fan grabbed the bouquet and swirled it around a couple of times. An angry whooshing sounded from the ceiling. Whether it came from the aggressive fan, or the captured bouquet was impossible to make out. After a few tours around, centrifugal forces helped the flowers to come loose—and sent them Neha’s way. They surged towards her in big cartwheels, mocking her attempt to stand at the far side of the venue, trying to not partake in a ceremonial divination of who would marry next.

Oh, her parents would love this! They had been nagging her about getting married and starting a family for years, but, with her thirtieth birthday only months away, they had become veritable pests. The constant badgering was grinding on Neha’s nerves, and she was appalled at fate’s trick to send her the bouquet. Her feet felt like they were glued to the ground, and her spine was unyielding—she could neither move to the side nor duck away. The only thing she could do to avoid being hit in the face by the stems of two dozen roses was to catch them.

She stared at the flowers in her hands and let them drop to the ground. Her hands itched, and she wiped them on her bridesmaid’s gown.

Everybody was staring. Some laughed and cheered. Neha wished to vanish. She turned to the door, but before she even took a step, Shanae came running and wrapped her into a tight embrace. Who would have thought her best friend would toss her wedding bouquet that wretchedly?

Shanae whispered, “I’m sorry.” She rubbed Neha’s back.

Neha hated to see that mortified look on her friend’s face. Just because she abhorred the thought of getting married off didn’t mean she wanted to ruin Shanae’s wedding. “I’m fine.”

Shanae squinted at her. “The hell you are.” They had lived together as roommates long enough to know each other well.

“No, really, I’m fine. It’s just flowers, you know.” Neha smiled and hooked her arm into the bride’s. “Let’s get back to the party.” She took Shanae’s hand and pulled her to the dance floor. Together, they egged the guests on to start dancing again.

Neha even let Nathan, the best man, whirl her around the dance floor, but a little while later she sneaked out. The rain had lessened to a soft drizzle, and it wasn’t too bad to walk through the dunes for a few minutes. Neha walked towards the shore and breathed in the salty, fresh air. Her shoulders relaxed. The errant bouquet had been an unfortunate sling slip. No clairvoyance involved at all.

Just when she had managed to calm herself, her phone rang.

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