Ghost #BookHugs ~ RUSSIAN PRIDE by Holly Bargo

#BookHugs

Russian Pride by Holly Bargo #BookHugs #hot #mafia #romance

The fourth and final book in the Russian Love series. Discounted e-book launch price of $0.99 good thru October 15, 2017.

Holly Bargo

Tag

The marriage alliance between the Russians and Italians embroils both organizations in a deadly war with the Chinese Triad. Can love grow in such circumstances?

Book Description

A victim of domestic violence, Inessa recuperates in the home of mafia captain Giovanni Maglione. Her parents, Bratva chief Maksim Andrupov and his wife Olivia, learn that Inessa’s recently deceased husband double-crossed the Chinese Triad and they’re coming after her for reparation. Thinking to save their daughter, Maksim and Olivia convince Giovanni to marry Inessa, who doesn’t particularly want to marry again and yet finds herself agreeing to the scheme.

The ruse fails and the Chinese pursue their target with bloodthirsty determination. Giovanni draws upon the resources of his own colleagues and rival mobs to engage with the Triad, avoid prison, and save his family, which now includes Inessa. The most dangerous man in Cleveland displays a surprisingly tender and gentle aspect of his character as he engages in terrible violence to protect what’s his… and Inessa is most definitely his.

Buy Link

Amazon (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0756ZR13R)

Excerpt

Marriage to a woman he found himself wanting and who did not want him back promised to punish him for every evil deed he had committed.

Giovanni had committed many.

Hours later and covered in snow, Paolo admitted without rancor that Inessa had built the better snow fort and won the battle with her superior ammunition. The younger boys merely cheered and flopped down in the snow to make snow angels and build snowmen until Bianca called them in for supper.

Gathered around the kitchen table that evening for supper, Bianca held court as usual. Lively conversation and friendly insults flew back and forth in a merry combination of affectionate bickering that Inessa still had not quite gotten used to. These boisterous, openly emotional Italians bewildered her, especially when Paolo flung an insult at his cousin that no one in the Bratva would have dared utter to her father. Yet Giovanni laughed it off and gave the boy a playful swat, while the elderly housekeeper frowned in resigned acceptance that the hooligans at her table might never grow up and act like gentlemen. Giovanni’s sparkling eyes met Inessa’s across the table. She felt a blush rise at the instant transformation of amusement to heated desire.

A hand gently patted hers, distracting her from the man’s intense stare. Looking at Bianca’s soft smile, she smiled back, though her expression held more than a tinge of anxiety. She could not—and would not—deny that Giovanni Maglione was one sexy, beautiful man. But the thought of submitting to a man made her blood run cold. The nightmares of experience doused any answering spark of desire.

Giovanni would want and expect children.

Inessa lowered her gaze to her plate and let the family discussion flow over her.

From the head of the table, Giovanni forced a smile at whatever inanity his young cousin spewed. Paolo, he knew, attempted to show off his wit to impress the shy, lovely woman who would marry into the family and unite Bratva and mafia. He also knew that his adolescent cousin, suffering from surging teenage hormones, had a crush on the quiet Russian woman. He made a mental note to keep a watchful eye on Paolo to ensure the boy didn’t do anything too stupid.

Giovanni also noticed the pretty blush that turned Inessa’s cheeks such a lovely pink. Within his mind, he winced at the sudden fear that flashed in her eyes and surmised her thoughts. Somehow, he had to convince her that hurting women was not his style. He would never hurt her, would never tolerate a hand raised against her.

She was his and he protected what was his with all the considerable resources at his disposal.

About the Author

Holly Bargo is the author’s pseudonym and really did exist as a temperamental appaloosa mare fondly remembered for watching over toddler children and grinding a brand new pager into dust. Holly lives on a hobby farm in southwest Ohio with her husband, a clowder of cats, an elderly llama, and an even more ancient horse that looks and acts half her age. Until recently, Holly and her husband’s two children also lived with them, but kids grow up and leave home.

Holly has published 17 fiction books since 2014—many of them steamy romances—and works full-time as a freelance ghostwriter and editor. All her books can be found on Amazon.com.

Holly Bargo

SECRETS WE KEEP by Faith Hogan #excerpt #giveaway

Faith HoganSecrets we keep

by

Faith Hogan

Faith HoganGenre: Women’s Fiction

Release Date: February 2017

Publisher: Aria Fiction – Head of Zeus

Two distant relatives, drawn together in companionship are forced to confront their pasts and learn that some people are good at keeping secrets and some secrets are never meant to be kept..

A bittersweet story of love, loss and life. Perfect for fans of Patricia Scanlan, Adele Parks and Rosamunde Pilcher.

The beautiful old Bath House in Ballytokeep has lain empty and abandoned for decades. For devoted pensioners Archie and Iris, it holds too many conflicting memories of their adolescent dalliances and tragic consequences – sometimes it’s better to leave the past where it belongs.

For highflying, top London divorce lawyer Kate Hunt, it’s a fresh start – maybe even her future. On a winter visit to see her estranged Aunt Iris she falls in love with the Bath House. Inspired, she moves to Ballytokeep leaving her past heartache 600 miles away – but can you ever escape your past or your destiny?

Extract from Secrets We Keep by Faith Hogan

‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Kate said. It was her first thought as they turned down the cove and saw the bathhouse snuggled into the cliff face. It was a turreted, stocky grown-ups sandcastle. ‘It could have been emptied from a child’s bucket,’ was her first reaction. It had been painted, white with a light blue trim once, then the waves and the spray had all but washed that away. It still sat proudly, if shabbily, on a huge flat rock, that upturned in a lip over the sea. It was a plate, large enough for any giant.

‘Genesis Rock – it’s a metamorphic rock, probably over a thousand million years old,’ Rita said. ‘Sorry, did I mention I taught geography and home economics, once upon a time.’

‘No, but I probably should have guessed.’

‘I don’t remember the bathhouse even being open. I could imagine that I’d have spent all my days here if I had.’ Rita looked at the washed white walls that reached high into the cliff face.

‘Well, Archie said they ran it for a few years, but he didn’t say when it shut.’ This place probably held sadness for Archie, if his brother died here. Kate couldn’t feel it. Instead, it made her feel energized, as though the sea was spraying something like an invitation deep into her lungs. It made her heart pound with an expectation she hadn’t felt in years. Even the deserted castle keep that loomed up in grey stone at the tip of the headland seemed to carry a hopeful secret in its towers.

‘It must have been lovely once. Even now, you can see.’ Rita rested her hands on the thick window ledge, her nose pressed firmly to the cold glass of the windows. ‘It looks like they just closed up one evening and never came back.’

Kate walked to the back of the bathhouse; it dug into the cliff face, as though the construction of one depended on the other. Alongside the building, a small narrow road clung to the cliff for a couple of hundred yards before it feathered off onto what counted as a main road in these parts. Far below, the waves lapped serenely against the stone. It was low tide now; Kate wondered how close the water actually came to the rock. ‘I’d love to get a look inside.’ Rita followed her round to the front of the bathhouse. They peered through a sea sprayed window for a few minutes. Inside, Kate could see there were tables and chairs, a small stove and an old-fashioned counter where once someone had taken orders for afternoon tea. ‘It’s a little café, wouldn’t it be lovely if it was open for coffee?’ Kate mused, it was so much more than just a bathhouse.

BUY LINKS

 

Amazon.com:

Secrets We Keep – Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk:

Secrets We Keep – Amazon.UK

Kobo:

Secrets We Keep – Kobo

Nook:

Secrets We Keep – Nook

GooglePlay:

Secrets We Keep – Googleplay

iBooks:

Secrets We Keep – iBooks

About Faith Hogan

Faith Hogan

Already an international best seller, Faith Hogan is an original voice in women’s fiction, she has been hailed as a Maeve Binchey for a new generation. Her stories are warm and rooted in a contemporary Irish landscape which has lost none of its wit or emotion thanks to its modern vibe.

Faith Hogan was born in Ireland. She gained an Honours Degree in English Literature and Psychology from Dublin City University and a Postgraduate Degree from University College, Galway. She has worked as a fashion model, an event’s organiser and in the intellectual disability and mental health sector.

She was a winner in the 2014 Irish Writers Centre Novel Fair – an international competition for emerging writers.

‘Secrets We Keep,’ is her second novel published with Aria Fiction. Her first, My Husbands Wives has been a top ten best seller and is currently available in paperback.

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

Twitter: @gerhogan

Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15109450.Faith_Hogan

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

Website: https://faithhogan.com

GIVEAWAY

Win a signed copy of Faith’s book Secrets We Keep!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

THE CURTAIN TWITCHERS OF OAKLEY PLACE by Deborah Hodgetts #giveaway

curtain twitchersThe Curtain Twitchers of Oakley Place

by

Deborah Hodgetts

curtain twitchers

Series: Book One in The Truth Seekers Series

Genre: Young Adult

Release Date: 4th July 2017

Publisher: The Beautiful Music of Words Limited

Barney Lumsden a homeless teen arrives in Oakley Place, situated in the depths of the Buckinghamshire Countryside. But was Oakley Place a perfect idyll and what are the dark secrets that lay buried.

Barney Lumsden unwittingly uncovers more than he could ever imagine, and it also seems that he’s caught up in a Government cover-up going back centuries.

From casually glimpsing the strange activities of the Curtain Twitchers that day on the village green, to uncovering the deathly secret in which he is part of the key – nothing will ever be the same again, as time itself unravels.

Will Barney and the strange Ms Pemberton close the loop, and restore this perfect idyll or will their journey unravel further across time?

Puzzling as this journey looks, it’s not the heart of the book’s mystery, nothing is black and white and everything is filled with infinite possibilities.

Who are the Curtain Twitchers? Why is the government involved? What is the mystery of the ancient talisman and it’s connection to the plague? Will you decipher the code of ‘The Curtain Twitchers of Oakley Place’? Can Barney find the answers he seeks and begin again?

Only you hold the key…

curtain twitchers

 

ABOUT DEBORAH HODGETTS

 

curtain twitchers

I am Deborah M. Hodgetts: a Published Poet in the UK and USA, Author of Young Adult novels, News Columnist, Freelance writer, Artist, Photographer, Screenwriter and Creative mind.

I live in a leafy village in the glorious countryside of Buckinghamshire, surrounded by beautiful nature, which always provides ample inspiration.

To find out more about me, and my writing you can usually find me in the following places: Twitter, Facebook, and Linked In.

Please pop by to my blog:

‘The Beautiful Music of Words’ or visit my website to see news on new publications, competitions and promotions.

I look forward to seeing you soon…

Deborah x

Facebook: http://facebook.com/debbie.hodgetts1

Twitter: @TheBeautifulMusicofWords @DeborahMHodgettsauthor1

LinkedIn: http://deborah-m-hodgetts-11689723

Blog: The Beautiful Music of Words at http://angelstar7.blogspot.co.uk/

Website: www.deborahhodgetts.co.uk

GIVEAWAY

All New Kindle Fire – 7″ Tablet with Alexa. 16 GB sent direct to the winner and Signed copy of the Curtain Twitchers of Oakley Place.

Second prize – to become a character in the next book and signed copy of The Curtain Twitchers of Oakley Place.

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Ghost #BookHugs ~ LEGACY OF EVIL by Sharon Buchbinder

#BookHugs

Ghost #BookHugs from Romance Authors: Legacy of Evil: The Hotel LaBelle Series, Book 2

by Sharon Buchbinder

 

Sharon Buchbinder

Release date: October 13, 2017

Keywords: Paranormal, Mystery, Thriller, Suspense, Fantasy, Psychics, Undercover Agents, Small Town, Native American Heroine, Biker Hero

Blurb: When a wild mustang is shot in Montana, renowned horse whisperer and telepath, Emma Horserider, is called in to calm the herd and find out what happened. Once on scene she is almost killed by a bullet-spewing drone, and calls her black ops brother for back-up.

Emma’s help roars into her life covered in tattoos and riding a Harley. Remote viewer Bronco Winchester takes the assignment because he is ordered to, but he wonders what type of assistance, his boss’s sister needs. That is until he sees Emma, a valiant Warrior Woman proud of her Crow heritage.

Posing as a married couple, Emma and Bronco go undercover to infiltrate and stop a hate group. Both are anxious enough without the now growing attachment they feel for one another. When the lives of many are on the line, they are not sure if they will live or die—let alone have a chance at love. One battle, one outcome. Who will win? Good or evil?

Excerpt:

Bronco now stood squinting in the late afternoon sun, knocking at a door with no bell, and waiting for a response. Dogs barked and a window curtain twitched. Good. Someone was home. He adjusted his pack, leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and said, “Any time now.” As the words slid out of his mouth, he heard the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped.

Uh. Oh.

He raised his hands. “Don’t shoot. I’m unarmed.”

Turning slowly to face his fate, his jaw fell open, and his heart rate kicked up a notch from being on thewrong end of a shotgun or from the weapon holder’s looks, he wasn’t sure. A raven haired Amazon in a tank top, jeans, and metal tipped cowboy boots held the Mossberg 500 in a perfect military stance. Long strands of hair blew across her face in the hot breeze. A large purple bruise bloomed on her left cheek. She squinted her dark brown eyes and gave him a laser-beam once over from his dusty black boots to his sweat soaked do-rag.

“Who are you, and what do you want?”

If he hadn’t been so intent on not getting killed, he would have spent more time staring at those full, luscious, kissable lips and thinking about how she would taste. As it was, he guessed he had less than a minute to respond before getting blasted into the next county.

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/qBbgsW_GiMI

BUYLINKS:

The Wild Rose Press: https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/5290-legacy-of-evil.html

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0755RFJFG

About the author:

Sharon Buchbinder

Sharon Buchbinder has been writing fiction since middle school and has the rejection slips to prove it. An RN, she provided health care delivery, became a researcher, association executive, and obtained a PhD in Public Health. When not teaching or writing, she can be found fishing, walking her dogs, or breaking bread and laughing with family and friends in Baltimore, MD and Punta Gorda, FL.

Author Links

Facebook: Sharon Buchbinder Romance Author: https://www.facebook.com/sharon.buchbinder.romanceauthor

Twitter ID @sbuchbinder: https://twitter.com/sbuchbinder

Instagram: https://instagram.com/sharon_buchbinder/

Blog: http://sharonbuchbinder.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.sharonbuchbinder.com/index.html

A Message from the Author…

One of the things I have learned in my life as an author, professor, wife, sister, mother, aunt, grandmother, great-aunt, and pet lover is that we are more alike than not. For me, romance is not only about the story of people falling in love, but also about connecting with readers and their lives. We are living in challenging times and at times those challenges can feel overwhelming. I call on each of us to take a moment to reach out and connect with other people. Let someone know they matter. It only takes a few words of kindness to lift someone up. You may be the one person who helps someone get through a rough patch.

Hugs,

Sharon

Ghost #BookHugs ~ IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES by Lisa Chalmers #paranormal

#BookHugs

If Tomorrow Never Comes

by

Lisa Chalmers

 

Lisa Chalmers

Blurb:

How hard would you fight for the one you love?

Josh Collins has the perfect life—a beautiful girlfriend and a baby on the way, until an accident takes his life.

Avery Rhodes’ world imploded the moment she lost Josh. Her life and future unravelled in an instant. Alone and pregnant, she finds herself facing an unimaginable, turbulent and painful new reality.

With his newfound guide Gabriel, Josh is witness to the unintended consequences of his death, until he can’t take it anymore. He has to fight for everything and everyone he loves.

Together, Josh and Avery are forced to learn what happens IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES.

Excerpt:

Josh had the sketchbook Gabriel had given him propped on his legs as he sketched absently as he sat on the beach, the sun rising behind him, not concentrating on what he was doing, the pencil moving quickly across the paper. His thoughts were where they always tended to drift to lately, Avery and the baby. He’d been afraid to sneak down and see her since the day he’d actually held her. It tore him up inside to be away from her for so long, but he didn’t understand what that meant, that he could suddenly touch her and she’d feel it. He didn’t want to scare her somehow. He smudged one of the lines he’d drawn and studied his work. Her face stared back at him. He darkened a few lines before he set the book beside him on the warm sand and closed his eyes, thinking back.

He’d decided to go with her to that very first doctor’s appointment, the one to confirm whether or not her suspicions were correct. It was uncomfortable being the only male in the doctor’s waiting room, being smiled at by every woman who walked in. He could still see the surprise on the nurse’s face when she walked out and found him there by himself for the first time. He’d tried to keep from squirming around anxiously in the chair every time he heard a door open and close in the distance. He wondered just how long it took to come back with test results anyway. They’d called and said they were in, so it didn’t take all that long to tell her yes or no, did it? He kept stretching his legs out ahead of him then bringing them back, not wanting to trip anyone as they were called for their appointment. He’d been there at least an hour waiting, jumping at every noise. He’d been sure the nurse was about to give him something for his nerves when he felt someone nudge his foot. He scooted his feet back, letting whoever it was pass by on their way to their appointment.

“Good quiz in Cosmo?” Avery’s voice came from behind the glossy pages.

He lifted his gaze in record time. “Who cares?” He tossed the magazine on the empty chair beside him.

She read the cover. “Rating your lover in twelve easy questions.”

“Avery?”

“What?” She’d been reaching for the magazine.

“I want to know.”

“I haven’t taken the quiz yet.” She giggled as he batted her hand away. “You’re absolutely crazy.”

He glanced around the almost deserted waiting room before he pulled her down to sit on his lap. “I want to know if we’re going to have a baby.” His arm wrapped around her waist, his fingers sliding beneath the back of her shirt, rubbing the soft skin at the small of her back. “I need to know.”

“You need to know, huh?”

His eyes locked on hers. “Come on, Aves. Am I going to be a daddy?”

She took one of his hands and moved it around, resting it on her abdomen. She bit her lip for a moment before breaking out into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “I think Daddy’s crazy, don’t you, baby?”

Josh’s jaw dropped, his mind going absolutely blank as he tried to comprehend her words. She was kidding, she wasn’t kidding. She didn’t look like she was kidding. That smile on her face, the way her eyes were shining as she waited for his reaction. “Oh my…oh my God…”

“So I guess I was right.”

“Let’s take you home,” he said suddenly, his hand tightening over hers.

“Why?”

He leaned in close to her. “Because I want to talk to the baby and then I want to make love to his beautiful mommy.” He stared into her eyes. “All right with you?”

She blushed as she slid off his lap. “More than all right with me.”

Purchase Link:

https://www.amazon.com/Tomorrow-Never-Comes-Lisa-Chalmers-ebook/dp/B00BHOCMMC

 

Author Bio:

Lisa Chalmers writes wherever her muse takes her – which is usually somewhere warmer – Florida, Los Angeles or Las Vegas. She has a deep love for the paranormal. IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES is her first release.

Author links:

http://www.lisa-chalmers.com

http://www.twitter.com/lisaink

https://www.facebook.com/LisaChalmersInk/

http://www.bookbub.com/authors/lisa-chalmers

Newsletter – http://eepurl.com/cLjCCf

Lisa Chalmers

WATCH FOR ME BY MOONLIGHT by Kirsty Ferry #timeslip #highwayman

Kirsty FerryWatch for me by Moonlight

by

Kirsty Ferry

Kirsty Ferry

Series: The Hartsford Mysteries series

Genre: Timeslip

Release Date: 6th October 2017

Publisher: Choc Lit

“It was the first full moon since that night. She waited and watched by moonlight, as she had promised …”

When her life in London falls apart, Elodie Bright returns to Suffolk and to Hartsford Hall, the home of her childhood friend Alexander Aldrich, now the Earl of Hartsford. There, she throws herself into helping Alex bring a new lease of life to the old house and its grounds.

After a freak storm damages the Hall chapel and destroys the tomb of Georgiana Kerridge, one of Alex’s eighteenth-century relatives, Elodie and Alex find a connection in the shocking discovery brought to light by the damaged tomb.

Through a series of strange flashbacks and uncanny incidents, they begin to piece together Georgiana’s secret past involving a highwayman, a sister’s betrayal and a forbidden love so strong that it echoes through the ages …

EXTRACT

Elodie had no idea how she made it to the church so quickly when she could barely see anything for the rain bucketing down in front of her eyes.

Pushing her way out of the gift shop, she ran, ploughing through mud and churned up grass, splashing through ankle deep puddles. Water was fountaining out of the drain covers like so many geysers, but Elodie didn’t look down, didn’t look to see where her feet were going. Her trainers would need to be binned and her clothes would probably never dry out again, but who cared? She just kept her sights on the church.

Against the shadows, she saw a tall figure running towards the place and knew instinctively who it was.

‘Alex!’ The wind tore the words out of her mouth and blew them somewhere towards Norfolk.

He reached the church moments before she did and stopped short at the door.

‘Alex!’

This time he heard her and spun around, rain dripping off his messy dark hair and into his midnight-blue eyes. ‘The roof, Elodie, it’s been hit. I was in the greenhouse. I saw it happening.’

‘I know!’ She drew up next to him, quite breathless. ‘I saw it too, from the gift shop.’ She hurried past him and put one hand on the ancient bronze door handle, but Alex’s hand came down on her wrist and held it in place.

‘Let me go first. I don’t know if it’s safe.’

Elodie relinquished the handle and hovered near him as he pulled the door open.

They both coughed as a cloud of dust and plaster came out, but thankfully there was no smell of burning.

‘Thank God,’ said Alex, clearly expecting the worst. ‘I’m still going in first though. You stay here until I call you.’

‘Okay. But come right back out if it’s looking bad!’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t hang around if it is.’ He disappeared into the building and Elodie peered anxiously in after him. After what seemed like an age, he called out to her. ‘It’s pretty grotty, but safe enough I think. The Lady Chapel got the worst of it. You can come in if you’re careful. But if it’s too much for your asthma, go straight back out.’

‘I will. But the poor Lady Chapel!’ Her heart pounding, she hurried into the church. As she stood there in the dark with the modern-day emergency lighting glowing in the rafters, and tiles smashed beneath her feet, and one of the beams hanging at a crazy angle from the ceiling to the floor, and one candle still miraculously lit and flickering wildly in an alcove near the altar, Elodie fought back the worst feeling of dread she’d ever experienced in her life.

‘Oh, my God!’

The Lady Chapel, which housed Georgiana’s tomb, was behind the fallen beam and rain was streaming down as if someone had aimed a garden hose through the roof. If anywhere in the place had suffered the worst from the lightning strike, it was, as Alex had said, that area. It had been built on to the church especially for Georgiana’s monument and never seemed to be quite fully part of the old building. The storm had obviously decided that the time had come to sever the connection completely – and it just felt all wrong, somehow. Damn.

‘I have to check Georgiana!’ Elodie scrambled over the rubble and crunched her way towards the Lady Chapel.

‘You’re not going over there on your own! God knows what it might be like. I’m coming with you.’ Alex tossed some bits of wood out of the way and followed her. With difficulty, they climbed over the beam and choked their way through the plaster cloud, the rain still hammering down and bouncing off the stone floor, but doing little to dampen the dust. Elodie felt the tell-tale tightening in her chest that warned of lungs that weren’t particularly happy in that sort of environment, but she had other things to think about and tried to ignore it.

She’d never forget what she saw after that – Georgiana’s beautiful marble tomb was split, right down the middle. It was as if the lightning strike had come straight through the roof and pierced the heart of the monument. It was all sort of broken in half and the place wasn’t filled with plaster dust: it was more like a mist of marble fragments. There were shards of the stuff scattered around and huge parts of the figure were shattered too. Even Georgiana’s lovely face was cracked from forehead to chin, yet she still looked so, so peaceful. And with the rain flowing over her cheeks, it seemed as if she was crying.

‘Oh, Georgiana!’ Elodie whispered and reached out, touching her hair.

There was an ominous creaking and groaning – then: ‘Look out!’ Alex grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her towards him as the whole tomb collapsed in on itself. The side fell off and Alex yanked Elodie out of the way. She lurched into him and automatically buried her head in his sopping wet chest. Then there was a horrible silence and all she could hear was the rain pounding on the wreckage of the tomb and Alex’s heart beating.

The silence was broken by Alex swearing.

‘Where is she?’ he asked. ‘Where the hell is she?’

BUY LINKS

Amazon UK: www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0758K49D4/

Amazon US: www.amazon.com/Watch-Me-Moonlight-Choc-Lit-ebook/dp/B0758K49D4/

Kobo: www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/watch-for-me-by-moonlight-2

iBooks: www.itunes.apple.com/gb/book/watch-for-me-by-moonlight-choc-lit/id1271346379

The title of my new book, Watch for me by Moonlight, is a line taken from my favourite poem, The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes. I’ve wanted to write about a highwayman for ages, and I suspect the inspiration came from three things – that poem, the romantic idea of the famous highwayman Claude Duval, and the fact I grew up in the ‘eighties and Adam Ant’s Highwayman character was very much a ‘thing’ in my days at primary school! My friends would paint stripes on their faces and strut around a bit, but I was never allowed to get my hands on make-up which was rather sad!

However, it was around that time we studied the Noyes poem and I was caught up in it from the very first reading. The images of the Highwayman falling for the beautiful Bess and the ultimate sacrifice she made to save him haunted me for years. At the time, I didn’t really understand the effect it had on me – at nine or ten years old, it was a rather scary, rather chilling and very romantic story; but the fact that even now I can remember sitting in class and reading those words and feeling the goosebumps on my arms, and that I kept thinking about it even after I went home and have remembered those feelings and Noyes’ words all these years, must have meant it touched me deeply.

Ben, the highwayman hero in Watch for me by Moonlight, is also based heavily on Claude Duval. He’s not really a bad guy; he’s an adventurer, and rather dashing – and stole a dance instead of Georgiana’s jewels when he intercepted her coach one dark night. The real Duval is said to haunt the Holt Hotel in Oxfordshire – and my Ben is said to haunt the woods at Hartsford Hall, the fictional stately home I created for my new series, the Hartsford Mysteries. I decided that Hartsford should be in Suffolk, which is a bit (okay, a lot) further south than my Rossetti Mysteries series, which is based in Yorkshire. However, I have still managed to link the two series together, and if anyone has read my novel The Girl in the Painting, then they will be familiar with the contemporary heroine of Moonlight, and maybe be pleased to find out a little more about some of the Rossetti characters as well!

ABOUT KIRSTY FERRY

Kirsty Ferry

Kirsty is from the North East of England and won the English Heritage/Belsay Hall National Creative Writing competition in 2009 with the ghostly tale ‘Enchantment’.

Her timeslip novel, ‘Some Veil Did Fall’, a paranormal romance set in Whitby, was published by Choc Lit in Autumn 2014. This was followed by another Choc Lit timeslip, ‘The Girl in the Painting’ in February 2016 and ‘The Girl in the Photograph’ in March 2017. The experience of signing ‘Some Veil Did Fall’ in a quirky bookshop in the midst of Goth Weekend in Whitby, dressed as a recently undead person was one of the highlights of her writing career so far!

Kirsty’s day-job involves sharing a Georgian building with an eclectic collection of ghosts – which can sometimes prove rather interesting.

You can find out more about Kirsty and her work at www.rosethornpress.co.uk, catch her on her Facebook Author Page or follow her on Twitter @kirsty_ferry.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kirsty.ferry.author/

Twitter: @kirsty_ferry

Blog: www.rosethornramblings.wordpress.com

Website: www.rosethornpress.co.uk

Welcome Rachel Dove and The Flower Shop on Foxley Street #giveaway

Foxley Street

The Flower Shop on Foxley St.

by

Rachel Dove

 

Foxley Street

Series: Westfield series – Can be read as a standalone.

Genre: romantic fiction

Release Date: 26th July 2017

Publisher: HQ Digital/Harper Collins

A new love could be about to bloom for Lily in this bright, warm women’s fiction title that fans of Holly Hepburn and Cathy Bramley will love.

Lily Rose Baxter loves her little flower shop on Foxley Street and the freedom and independence from her family that it represents.

Lily can’t help but feel that something is missing from her life…, but when mysterious stranger Will Singer comes into her shop looking for the perfect bouquet of roses, all that could be about to change.

BUY LINKS

AMAZON UK

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EXTRACT

Will Singer looked every inch the thirty-two-year-old man he was. The bathroom mirror rarely did anyone any favours, but this particular winter morning it appeared to be magically channelling the mirror from Snow White in terms of stark clarity and downright truth. Who’s the hottest man of them all? Certainly not you, dude.

He had badly needed a shave. People were starting to comment on it, but the clean-shaven Will was not a great improvement. At least his dark stubble had detracted from the huge Kardashian-sized luggage wedged under his eyes. Without his hairy mask, Will felt naked, unable to hide.

Even worse was the fact that the lack of hair on his face left people free to roam over his other features, in particular the mop of hair sprouting from his head. He looked like Lionel Messi mixed with Mufasa the lion. It did well for them, but Will wasn’t sure it was such a great style for him. Any longer and he would have to buy an Alice band like Beckham. Start sporting a man bun. He was pretty sure the villagers had never seen a man bun. It might scare them enough to dust off the pitchforks and torches. He had a sudden vision of his uncle Archie dressed like Braveheart, rallying the twin set and mohair-clad villagers into action from atop a horse. ‘People of Westfield, we shall not lie down and die. The man bun must be destroyed!’

He chuckled to himself at his own humour. He would have to tell Lily that joke later.

ABOUT RACHEL DOVE

Foxley Street

I am a wife, mother of two boys, perpetual student, avid reader and writer of words. I sometimes sleep, always have eye bags and dream of retiring to a big white house in Cornwall, with 2 shaggy dogs, drinking wine on my seafront balcony whilst creating works of romantic fiction. All done with immaculate make up and floaty dresses.

In the meantime, I nearly always remember to brush my hair, seldom have time to look in a mirror and write many, many to-do lists.

My first solo novel, Crossing Life Lines is out now in Kindle and paperback format. Look out for my horror shorts, published through Bayou Brew Publishing: The House of Sugar Blood, August 2013 and Uni Assassin, out now, and my short story, Mallow Girl, out now.

In July 2015, I won the Prima magazine and Mills & Boon Flirty Fiction Competition, with my entry, The Chic Boutique on Baker Street, out now in ebook and paperback, and the follow up novel in the series, The Flower Shop on Foxley Street.

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WriterDove

Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5831003.Rachel_Dove

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

Blog: https://racheldoveauthor.wordpress.com/

Giveaway

1st Prize: Signed paperback copy of The Flower Shop on Foxley St. (open internationally)

2nd Prize: A Signed paperback copy of The Chic Boutique on Baker St. (open internationally)

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Ghost #BookHugs BETWEEN DESPAIR AND ECSTASY by Daryl Devoré #hot #romance

#BookHugsBetween Despair and Ecstasy by Daryl Devoré #BookHugs #hot #romance

The finale of Erika and Darien’s epic rollercoaster romance.

Daryl Devoré

Tag – How can Erika prove to herself and Darien that she loves and trusts him? Simple. All she has to do is jump out of a plane.

Concerned for his fiancée, Erika Bailey’s safety, rock star Darien Scott races to Bangkok to protect her, only to discover his brother is missing. Fearing the worse, he contacts his nemesis, Gan, and makes a repulsive deal that will free his brother and protect Erika’s club, The Pink Flamingo. Or so he thought. When a python and Gan are involved, things go sour, and Darien sinks into a deep depression.

Erika is disheartened by the betrayal of her parents. Her father’s destruction of her club, and the humiliation of her mother’s drunken behavior have her feeling down, but those are the least of her worries. She has a wedding to plan, but won’t. Having been betrayed too often, she’s scared to trust Darien.

How can Erika prove to herself and Darien that she loves and trusts him? Simple. All she has to do is jump out of a plane.

At – eXtasybooks

Excerpt

Sweat streamed off Darien’s brow. Some dripped into his eyes. It stung. His heart throbbed against his ribs. Fire inched down his throat. Every muscle in his body ached. His head pounded from the pandemonium. The explosions. The screams. The pain threatening to split his skull. Dropping his head back, he closed his eyes. His chest heaved as he gulped air. He needed a moment. Get some strength back.

The screams grew louder.

Damn.

He inhaled and released a long breath.

They wanted him. He had to continue. To perform. Like a trained monkey. Do people even do that anymore? Train monkeys? He peeled his eyes open. The glare of the overhead lights blazed down at him. He lifted his head. The screams grew louder.

“Oh. So, you want more?”

But what if I don’t have any more? What if I just can’t continue? Twelve weeks. Four shows a week. I’m beat.

The roar from eighty thousand Parisians was tumultuous. Fans yelled at the top of their lungs. They pounded their feet on the floor, raising their hands in the air, clapping. Glow sticks, cell phones, and lighters swayed like flowers in a breeze.

He grinned. Eighty thousand Parisians and one fiancée. He glanced to his left. Seated on the top stage step was Erika. She’d arrived just minutes before the show started. Just enough time for a passionate, but quick, hello kiss. He needed more. He needed her, and he knew it. She smiled at him. He loved that smile. He could stare at it all day. The way her soft lips curved up. A hint of sassiness in her expression.

Just finish the show. Grab Erika and run. Dodge the fans. Just get out of here.

He looked out over the crowd. “But what if I’m too tired to continue?”

“No,” the crowd wailed.

He grinned. “Well, maybe I could go on if you told me you loved me.”

The cacophony of sounds was deafening. “Je t’aime. Love you.”

He lifted his hands. “Do you love me?”

Oui. Yes.”

He ripped his black t-shirt over his head and threw it into the fans. “Do. You. Love. Me?” He yelled out as he glanced at Erika.

She jumped up and down, screaming with the crowd.

“I can’t hear you.”

The building shook with the fans’ frenzy.

“Five. Six. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.”

Fireworks exploded. Lasers shot around the stadium. Cass, the drummer, crashed the symbols as Darien spun, posed then inhaled a deep breath and opened his mouth to sing.

Daryl Devoré

About the Author

Daryl Devoré lives in an old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, a black cat named Licorice and some house ghosts. Daryl loves to take long walks up her quiet country road or snowshoe across the back acres, and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She’s touched a moon rock, a mammoth and a meteorite. She’s been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flown high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life’s an adventure and Daryl’s having fun living it.

Where to find Daryl Devoré

Blog – Romance Sweet to Heat

Facebook

Twitter

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An Inspirational Thought

Friendships are important. How do they start? CS Lewis knows

Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: “What! You too? I thought that no one but myself…”

 

My first International Writers’ Conference ~ #ScotsWrite17

#ScotsWrite17Wow! #ScotsWrite17 What a great adventure. Jet-lag aside, I’m still processing the entire weekend experience.

It was great to meet up with fellow author friends that I know virtually and in person – even better to meet up with others that I’ve only known online.

Back in May, hubby and I arranged to meet up with our friend, Chris Longmuir, whom we’ve known for quite some time (in person as well as virtual) and Wendy Jones, who until our arranged day trip to Aberdeen, I only knew as as a cyber-space entity. It was on this day on the train returning to our respective lodgings the plans were put in motion for us to attend the conference.

Friday night kicked off with a fantastic meal followed by keynote speaker, Joanne Harris, author of the award-winning novel Chocolat, which was turned into a movie by the same name.

Saturday morning, after a full Scottish breakfast (including haggis – yay!), we got down to it.

After a welcome from the Society of Authors in Scotland chair, Linda Strachan, historical author, Jane Johnson started the day with her talk about her life in books. It wasn’t until a break later that I realized who she was … well sort of. Turns out I have her book, The Sultan’s Wife, and I remember a thing on Facebook asking you to select the cover you liked best.

Breakouts (or as we call them workshops) began. Hubby came with me and since some of the workshops I wanted conflicted, he went in my place. Like translation and planning for the unexpected.

Prior to our lunch break, Charlie Higson gave a presentation on diversification.

After lunch, hubby and I both attended Caro Ramsay‘s ergonomic workspace breakout (I love her sense of humour) followed by one I really, REALLY, REALLY wanted to attend… Joanna Penn‘s Book Marketing Masterclass. I came away from this one with loads of ideas for marketing my books, including reviving my podcasts. Biggest decision there, do I put the podcasts on the website or my blog?

Joanna Penn signing a book

A debate on what to expect from one another from the perspective of a novelist, agent and editor provided some interesting points that quite possibly many of us never thought of.

A gin tasting and drinks reception followed in the lead up to the dinner and ceilidh.

And for those doubting Thomases who claim I never wear a skirt (always trousers), here’s proof that I do.

Complete with my red leather jacket and matching shoes that I wore at my book launch in Kansas.

#ScotsWrite17
Saturday night’s meal

Since coming to this conference all came about as a result of an earlier trip to Scotland and spending the day with Chris and Wendy, I thought I would post a picture of us from then.

Here we are on our wander around Footdee village in our casual attire, suitable for such a day. I mean you can’t wear your glad rags when you’re looking for body dump locations. You need to be comfortable in case you have to high-tail it out of the place, lest you’re really pegged as a murderer *egads*.

#ScotsWrite17
Chris, Melanie and Wendy – aka the three muskateers

And wanting to recreate our “three muskateers” photo from earlier in the year, we had another one taken between the meal and the ceilidh on the Saturday night.

#ScotsWrite17
and the three of us again in our glad rags

Not quite from the same angle, but the three of us scrub up well, don’t you think?

The Martainn Skene Highland Dance Band

Our ceilidh band. First dance of the night was the ‘Gay Gordon’s’.

#ScotsWrite17
Don and Wendy dancing the Gay Gordons

Before the night was over, we danced The Dashing White Sergeant, Strip the Willow, Virginia Reel, and more…

The very last dance (and we stayed right to the end), was a waltz.

#ScotsWrite17
The only two couples on the dance floor

On the Sunday morning, Joanna Penn talked about how to make a living from your writing. I wish I had a fraction of her energy. Wow!

We attended the two breakouts on Scrivener software for writers. I can see me getting this in the not-so-distant future.

All too soon, the weekend conference came to an end and we found ourselves on the train back to Paisley Gilmour Street station and the bus to the airport, and our room at the Holiday Inn.

The original plan was to only take one of our large suitcases. We brought both because we needed casual and dress clothes and knew we would be bringing stuff back with us. Good thing we did because when all was said and done, we had 44 pounds in each bag.

I’m looking forward to putting the things I learned at the conference into practice and can’t wait until the next one comes around.