Archive for the 'Author Friend New Releases' Category

HOT OFF THE PRESS!

December 9, 2024 | Author Friend New Releases

Women’s fiction and romance writer Stella May is excited to announce the new release of New Horizon, book 4 in her Rostoff Family Saga. Here is a brief introduction and excerpt for your reading pleasure.

A promise. A warning. A vow.

Will healing find a way or condemn them to heartbreak?

Though hundreds, even thousands of miles lie between her and those she loves, Natasha is convinced one of them is in great danger. She knows it with a certainty that triggers brutal migraines and a premonition of disaster that sets her heart thundering.

Which one is it? Who is about to be torn from her life without the chance to say goodbye—or ask for forgiveness?

Maybe Katia, a talented artist, an independent woman, who still believes the lie that Natasha is dead.

Or Peter, an FBI agent in a dangerous job, who’s burdened with a secret that’s destroying his soul from the inside out.

Or Dmitry, the man she once promised never to leave—until she was forced to abandon him and his children.

With the reading of the evil and vindictive Elizabeth Rostoff’s will fast approaching, Natasha’s day of reckoning is at hand. And so is the sense of danger she just can’t shake. Sick with guilt and secrets, she must gather her courage and face reality. And banish the specter of Elizabeth Rostoff’s ghost for good. No matter what the cost.

EXCERPT

When she finally fell asleep, Natasha plunged into a nightmare. Trapped in its chilling tentacles, she struggled to wake up, but all her desperate attempts only drew her deeper into the murky horror. It seemed terrifyingly real. The smell of burnt flesh…the burst of shots…the terrible screams …the screeching sounds of mangled metal…

Panic surged upward, hot and overwhelming. Paralyzed with fear, numb from it, Natasha helplessly watched the scene unfolding before her eyes.

Mayhem. Blazing inferno scorched her skin, the gunshots made her ears ring, and the smell…My God, the smell! Horrifying. Blind from smoke, half- deaf from the gunfire, she started to run. Fast, then faster. Fighting to draw air into her lung, she pumped her legs as if her life depended on it. A sudden searing pain ripped into her shoulder, then her back. Again, and again, like someone poked her torso with a hot cattle prod. Excruciating agony ripped through her body. Her left leg gave out.

Unable to run, she stumbled, then fell.

I am dying.

With a scream trapped in her throat, she woke up. Gasping, covered in perspiration from head to toe, she jerked against the mattress, and wrestled with the sheets in an attempt to free her legs. The shadows of her nightmare still swirled in her brain. Echoes of screams and gunfire rang in her ears. Her heart thundered in her chest, beating like a sledgehammer against her ribcage.

Something’s wrong.

Fear coated her gut, chilled her to the marrow.

Someone’s hurt.

Her infamous six sense that laid dormant for a long time, resurfaced now with a vengeance. Natasha dreaded it, hated it, but learned to never doubt it. Once upon a time, it saved Katia’s life.

Who is in danger now?

Someone she loved. Someone she deeply cared about.

That means Dmitry and Katia, Rose and Larry. She talked to Rose yesterday, and her dear friend sounded happy and cheerful. Thank God.

All the others were located at the estate, if not quite happy but safe.

She and Katia spent long hours into the night talking and getting reacquaint after eighteen years of separation. There were tears, and laughter, and joy, and thankfully, no accusations or blame on Katia’s side. Elated, happy, Natasha all but lost track of time. But that emotional reunion took its toll. Finally, both depleted and exhausted, they decided to retire for the night. As Katia’s declared, they now have the whole time in the world to talk.

So, everybody accounted for, except Petya.

Delayed because of his job. A very dangerous job. She tensed.

The images from her horrible dream swam before her eyes.

Blood, fire, mangled metal and burning flesh. The sounds of gunfire like a deadly staccato still echoed in her ears. The phantom ache in her shoulder and back and left leg began pulse and burn. And she knew.

My God, Petya!

Natasha jumped from the bed, stumbled, and fell heavily down. The pain from her knees hitting the hardwood floor sang all the way to her thighs. She cursed, absently rubbed her abused flesh, then sprung up. What to do? Wake up Dmitry? And what will she tell him? That she dreamt of blood and gunfire? Phone Petya? What time is it? She turned, glanced at the wall clock. Barely six AM. Too early? After a second hesitation, she grabbed her iPhone charging on the nightstand, and quickly punched in his number. It went straight to voice mail. She disconnected, more agitated than before. Deep in her heart she knew Petya was in trouble. But what to do?

Dammit, I must do something!

She grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed, and shrugged into it, then bolted from the room. A sudden bloodcurdling wail froze her to the spot. Where did it come from? Another sound of a desperate cry chilled her blood.

Somewhere downstairs.

Before her brain registered it, she sprinted toward the staircase, as another keening turned her blood to ice. She flew along the hallway, then a flight down the stairwell, and abruptly collided against Dmitry. He grabbed her shoulders, managing to break her imminent fall. They both jolted at another sound of mournful wailing.

“Someone’s hurt!” She strained her ears, as another chilling moan pebbled her skin in goosebumps. “Where…?”

“The parlor!” He pushed her away, and barreled down the staircase. She hurried after him. At the first-floor landing, they both swerved their faces left and right.

“Oh, Christ almighty.”

Full of despair, Dmitry’s helpless oath ricocheted around the vast room. She followed his gaze. She blinked a couple of times before her eyes focused.

Katia lay sprawled on the floor near the doors, her body partially on top of the two bodies of the dogs. Tears ran in rivulets down her face, as she hugged the unresponsive shepherds. Then Katia lifted her face. Another blood-chilling moan burst free. Terrifying, her grief tore at Natasha’s soul. Unmindful of her own tears, she took a step toward the girl, but Dmitry beat her to it. Dropping on his knees in front of his daughter, he lifted her from the bodies of the dogs, and gently shook her by the shoulders. “Katie, baby, are you hurt?”

Sobbing, she sagged into his arms. “No, I’m not, but Buyan and Buran, my precious boys…” She let out a low tortured moan. “They’re dead, Daddy. Both of them. Oh, Lord!”

Thank God. Not Katia.

No matter how horrible the dogs’ fate, Natasha slumped with relief.

Katia, unharmed. Most important than anything.

Switching her gaze at the poor animals, Natasha shuddered. Lying on their sides, with their open eyes glazed with death, both huge dogs seemed to have shrunk in size. Such a horrible and sad picture. Poor Buyan and Buran. She squinted, then focused on their mouths. Thick white foam covered their muzzles, dripping down.

Poison.

The dogs were poisoned. Murdered. Intentional or an accident? Maybe, they swallowed something toxic? She shook her head. No, as trained guard dogs, they’d never root in the utility closet with all the stored cleaning supplies, much less accept food from a stranger.

So, someone from this household deliberately killed the dogs. But why? And who? Who could have done such a cruel, senseless thing?

Katia’s sudden loud scream knifed the silence. “It’s him! I know it! No one is brutal enough to do such a despicable act.”

Natasha swiveled her head at whoever Katia pointed at. It surprised her to find so many people crowding the parlor. Vera, the cook, Larry and Nick, Dmitry’s driver, and a couple of other people she failed to recognize. Towering over the group, dressed in his usual black attire, Ivan stood out like a messenger of doom.

Visibly shaking, Katia pointed her finger at him.

“You, miserable excuse for a human being, how could you! How could you take your revenge on them. They didn’t do anything to you, you bastard. They were just dogs. I’m going to kill you, I swear. I’m going to scratch your stinking eyes out of your morbid face!” And like a live missile, Katia launched to her feet and bolted toward Ivan. It took both Dmitry and Larry to intercept her, bodily dragging her away from the old butler. Like her namesake, the girl clawed, kicked, and screamed. And then, as abruptly as it started, her rage deflated. She covered her face with both hands and dissolved into heart-wrenching sobs.

Get your copy on Amazon and other popular vendors.

Stella May is the penname for Marina Sardarova who has a fascinating history you should read on her website.

Stella writes women’s fiction along with fantasy romance as well as time travel romance. She is the author of ‘Till Time Do Us Part, Book 1 in her Upon a Time series, and the stand-alone book Rhapsody in Dreams. Love and family are two cornerstones of her stories and life. Stella’s books are available in e-book and paperback through all major vendors.

NEW RELEASE FOR STELLA MAY

September 23, 2024 | Author Friend New Releases

Multi-published romance author Stella May is elated to announce the release of her latest novel New Life, Book Three in the Rostoff Family Saga! Here’s the blurb and an excerpt to pique your interest.

In a kingdom held together by secrets and lies, the truth could heal—or destroy.

The queen is dead. But the damage Elizabeth Rostoff leaves behind to lives, hopes, and relationships lives on.

Seven years ago, Peter Rostoff severed all ties with his family—including his sister, Kat.

But at his father’s insistence, he reluctantly returns for the funeral worn thin by his FBI position and burdened by a secret shame. But mostly by one haunting mystery—why the woman he loved like a mother disappeared…

All those years ago, Natasha Sokolova thought abandoning Dmitry Rostoff and the children she’d come to love as her own was the right thing, the only thing, to do. Resurfacing after Elizabeth’s death isn’t the healing experience she’d prayed for, but a gut-wrenching discovery of yet more secrets, and news that could destroy her for good.

Kat Rostoff lives in a bubble filled with her doting father and a mentor that helped mold her into a world-renowned artist. Yet nothing can fill the empty space, and a vague sense of guilt, left behind by the mother figure she barely remembers, and the brother who fled Paris seven years ago without looking back.

Four lives, set on diverging paths with only a glimmer of hope for reconciliation. But will the queen’s evil reach out from beyond the grave to destroy it for good?

EXCERPT

A candid snap of a teenage girl, beautiful in her budding femininity, smiling shyly in the camera. Hair of true platinum color, a rare Nordic shade, long and silky, and eyes the color of a sky before it rained. Katie… His beautiful princess, his baby sister… No, not a baby anymore. Peter sighed.

Ekaterina Rostoff, a famous artist, sculptor, celebrity.

His salvation. And curse.

Just thinking about her made his heart melt and sigh and stutter.

And burn with shame.

Peter lifted his hand, then dropped it down without touching her beautiful image. With a helpless oath, he turned away, pulled at his hair with both hands. Defeated, he dropped into a chair, and closed his eyes. As if conjured by his unruly imagination, her face swam before him. Peter fisted his hands.

Dammit.

Seeing Katie in Zolotoe Selo took a toll on him. For almost seven years, he deliberately stayed away from her, from California and his grandmother’s estate  where they grew up. If not for Elizabeth’s funeral, he would never have returned to that place.

That estate and the monstrosity of the manor house repelled and attracted him at the same time. Two days ago, as soon as he saw it again after all these years, the memories ambushed him. Bittersweet and poignant and heartbreaking.

It made him feel again like a lost little boy from so long ago.

Or just yesterday? Two decades seemed to shrink to just two days. Or even minutes. His imagination played a nasty trick, as the painfully familiar face of a young woman swam before his eyes. Red curly hair, impossibly green eyes, petite frame. And the voice, deep and velvety, like raw honey drizzled over milk. Natasha. His first adolescent crush, his best friend, his second mother.

With an effort, he banished her image from his mind, shut a lid on his memories. Eighteen years ago, Natasha vanished into a thin air after accepting a hefty check from Elizabeth. She never reappeared again.

Her betrayal still hurt. It always will. He forced himself to stop wondering where she might be, or worrying if she was alright. No point to dwell on it. He wished her well.

But dammed if he was able to forget or forgive.

Even the vivid reminder of Natasha paled in comparison with meeting Katie.

She stole his breath the very first time he saw her. Just a tiny baby, to him she seemed the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. That moment etched into his memory forever. The gazebo in his grandmother’s estate, the small cradle, and the tiny baby with a mop of a silky hair. She slept with her cherubic mouth half-open, covered in a pink blanket. And when she opened her eyes, blinked, and smiled at him, she claimed his young heart. Forever.

Almost two decades later, she still remained the most beautiful thing under the sun. And still every time she aimed her pewter eyes at Peter, his heart broke.

Katie. His princess. His greatest joy.

His worst nightmare.

AMAZON BUY LINK

Stella May is the penname for Marina Sardarova who has a fascinating history you should read on her website.

Stella writes fantasy romance as well as time travel romance. She is the author of ‘Till Time Do Us Part, Book 1 in her Upon a Time series, and the stand-alone book Rhapsody in Dreams. Love and family are two cornerstones of her stories and life. Stella’s books are available in e-book and paperback through all major vendors.

PIZZA EXTRAORDINAIRE

June 24, 2024 | Author Friend New Releases, Cooking

from Sharon Ledwith

Ready for some comfort food? I bet you are! So, let’s go with a fan favorite – PIZZA! Not just any pizza, but one so extraordinaire you’ll toss all those take-out menus and never order in again. The sauce is superb and flavorful and is worth adding the numerous ingredients. This pizza is perfect for game night and gatherings on those cool or damp days at your vacation or stay-cation home. Now that’s Amore!

 

SAUCE

Combine all ingredients in a small bowl. Stir well, breaking up any cheese clumps.

Allow the sauce to sit for 30 minutes to blend flavors. Spread sauce evenly over the dough. Add any of toppings you like.

CRUST

Use a large bowl to dissolve yeast and brown sugar in the water. Let sit for 10 minutes.

Stir salt and oil into the yeast solution. Mix in 2½ cups of flour.

Turn dough out onto clean, well-floured surface, and knead in more flour until the dough is no
longer sticky. You may or may not use all of the remaining 1⅓ cups of flour.

Place dough into a well-oiled bowl and then cover with a cloth. Let dough rise until double, approximately 1 hour. Punch down dough and then form it into a tight ball. Allow the dough to relax for a minute before rolling out.

Preheat oven to 425° (220° C).

If you are baking the dough on a pizza stone, you may spread the sauce and add your favorite toppings on the dough and bake immediately. If you are baking your pizza in a pan, lightly oil the pan, and let the dough rise for 15 or 20 minutes before topping and baking it.

Bake pizza until cheese and crust are golden brown, about 15 to 20 minutes. 

While you’re enjoying your slice of mouth-watering, made-to-order pizza why not put your feet up and relax on the couch with a good book? May I suggest a visit to Fairy Falls, or if you’re feeling really adventurous, a trip back in time with The
Last Timekeepers? Whichever you choose, I assure you that either series will take you on a journey far away from the chaos and problems of your world.

 

The only witness left to testify against an unsolved crime in Fairy Falls isn’t a person…

City born and bred, Hart Stewart possesses the gift of psychometry—the psychic ability to discover facts about an event or person by touching inanimate objects associated with them. Since his mother’s death, seventeen-year-old Hart has endured homelessness, and has learned ways to keep his illiteracy under wraps. He eventually learns of a great-aunt living in Fairy Falls, and decides to leave the only life he’s ever known for an uncertain future.

Diana MacGregor lives in Fairy Falls. Her mother was a victim of a senseless murder. Only Diana’s unanswered questions and her grief keeps her going, until Hart finds her mother’s lost ring and becomes a witness to her murder.

Through Hart’s psychic power, Diana gains hope for justice. Their investigation leads them into the corrupt world threatening Fairy Falls. To secure the town’s future, Hart and Diana must join forces to uncover the shocking truth, or they risk losing the true essence of Fairy Falls forever.

Sharon Ledwith is the author of the middle-grade/YA time travel series, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS, and the teen psychic mystery series, MYSTERIOUS TALES FROM FAIRY FALLS. When not writing, researching, or revising, she enjoys reading, exercising, anything arcane, and an occasional dram of scotch. Sharon lives a serene, yet busy life in a southern tourist region of Ontario, Canada, with her hubby, one spoiled yellow Labrador and a moody calico cat.

Learn more about Sharon Ledwith on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter, Google+, Goodreads, and Smashwords. Look up her Amazon Author page for a list of current books. Be sure to check out THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS TIME TRAVEL SERIES Facebook page.

NEW RELEASE FOR STELLA MAY

June 17, 2024 | Author Friend New Releases

Acclaimed romance author Stella May is elated to announce the release of her latest novel New Hope, Book Two in the Rostoff Family Saga! Here’s the blurb and an excerpt to pique your interest.

Love can heal the rift between them. But can it survive an act of supreme cruelty?

For five years, Natasha Sokolova has loved and cared for jewelry tycoon Dmitry Rostoff’s two children, Peter and Katia, on her own. Her nights haunted with achingly cruel dreams of unrequited love, and promises never made.

Peter’s eighteenth birthday arrives. Dmitry is returning home to celebrate. Nathasha is five years stronger, five years smarter—and she’d rather die than give Dmitry the satisfaction of knowing he broke her heart.

Dmitry put thousands of miles between him and the act of betrayal that nearly destroyed him. Only for Peter does he break his vow never to return, endure the ugly memories of an evil mother, and swallow his bitterness just long enough to make his son happy—then make his escape.

One look at the beautiful woman who stole his heart—and the angelic daughter he once couldn’t bear to lay eyes on—loosens the knot of hatred coiled inside him. The desire to free himself from his past, and his family from the prison of the Rostoff estate, sparks a plan that Dmitry is certain will succeed.

But the Rostoff matriarch has no intention of allowing her grandchildren to slip from her control. To further strengthen her dominance, she plots to create a rift between Dmitry and Natasha that is impassable—and permanent.

EXCERPT

Natasha roamed through all the rooms of the suite ready for Dmitry to occupy during his visit. It became her habit over the past few days to return here and stay for a minute or so. She didn’t know why this particular suite pulled her like a magnet. The fact that he will occupy it, sleep in the huge bed, look out of this window?

Maybe. Probably. More than likely. She drew a deep breath.

You are acting silly, Natasha. He already forgot about you.

But silly or not, she came here every day. And remembered.

Five years, Natasha mused. Five long years since she last saw him, or talked to him. She learned about him from his son Peter, Petya as she preferred to call him in Russian. From the bits and pieces of information he provided, Natasha knew about Dmitry’s life in Paris, his work, his friends. But nothing about his private life. She didn’t want to know. No concern of hers. He wasn’t her concern.

Or so she tried to convince herself. Every day for the last five years.

No, really, she cared less if he found someone else. Svetlana, his true love, died a long time ago. Life should go on with or without people we love as the natural order of things.

So, why is your life going nowhere?

Oh, my life’s just great!

Habitually Natasha debated with her opponent, her inner voice that recently disagreed with her too often.

I have a family, even friends. I have all I need; all the life I can handle!

Yeah? Then why are you coming to his rooms every night? Do you like torturing yourself?

I’m not! Torturing myself, that is. I just…

You just… what? Remember? Dream?

Well, yes. And what’s wrong with that?

Nothing, except that dreams are cruel. You should know that.

She sighed. Yes, she should. And she has. She shouldn’t even think about him, not now, not ever. Except….

So many issues bound them together.

Svetlana, the kids.

And, yes, memories.

He left five years ago without a word. Just like that. Like he never was.

She felt rejected. Betrayed. Even though she had no right to feel that way. He never said anything, never promised her anything. He never even touched her except that night in the gardens, when he held her. Close, but not close enough.

The memory of that one night haunted her for a long time. Instead of ignoring them or locking them inside, Natasha often intentionally dragged her memories from her subconscious mind, forcing herself to face them. That self-imposed torture cost her dearly, but it also helped her to accept the truth. She meant nothing to Dmitry Rostoff. Their chemistry was just a fluke born out of the shared traumatic experience. No less, no more. She accepted it, learned to live with it.  But she could never forget.

Whatever happened, or rather not happened, between them five years ago didn’t die a natural death. No, a brutal amputation ended everything. And like any chopped limb it throbbed and bled. Still.

Amazon Buy Link and other noted sellers

Stella May is the penname for Marina Sardarova who has a fascinating history you should read on her website.

Stella writes fantasy romance as well as time travel romance. She is the author of ‘Till Time Do Us Part, Book 1 in her Upon a Time series, and the stand-alone book Rhapsody in Dreams. Love and family are two cornerstones of her stories and life. Stella’s books are available in e-book and paperback through all major vendors.

Piping Hot and Satisfying

January 24, 2024 | Author Friend New Releases, Cooking

from Vonnie Hughes

This soup tastes great and is sure to be a crowd pleaser.

MINESTRONE SOUP

1 tbsp. butter
4 slices bacon, chopped or ½ lb. gravy beef, minced/ground
1 onion, chopped
½ lb. fresh tomatoes or 1 jar/can, chopped
1 carrot, scraped and chopped
1 potato, peeled and chopped
2 sticks celery or other seasonal vegetable, chopped
½ cup haricot beans that have been soaked overnight
3 tbsp. macaroni
3 tbsp. rice
3 tbsp. spaghetti
½ tsp. salt
Pepper to taste

Melt butter in a frying pan. Add bacon or meat and fry until crisp. Stir in onion and tomatoes.

Carefully pour mixture into a slow cooker or pressure cooker. Fill pot halfway with water. Stir in remaining ingredients.

Cook 2 hours in slow cooker or 15 minutes in pressure cooker.

Here’s a little from my latest romantic suspense. I hope you enjoy it.

Who can you trust if you can’t trust your own mother? Through the clammy fog, Celie Francis hears the chilling message. “I know who you are, Celie. I know where you live.” And in the terrifying aftermath she reconnects with her dysfunctional family in ways she had never imagined.

BLURB:
Abused and abandoned as a child, Célie Francis knows better than to trust anyone. But after she witnesses a murder, she’s placed in the Unit “New Zealand’s witness protection program” where she’s expected to trust strangers with her life.

It’s psychologist Brand Turner’s job to ease witnesses into their new identities, not to protect them, but Célie stirs feelings in him that are far from professional. When it appears someone is leaking critical information that could endanger Célie, Brand will do anything to protect her. But first he has to convince her to trust him.

Adrift in a frightening world, Célie would like to believe the handsome psychologist is everything he seems, but as witnesses are murdered and danger swirls around them, Célie must decide “can she trust Brand with her life?

 

Vonnie Hughes is a multi-published author in both Regency books and contemporary suspense. She loves the intricacies of the social rules of the Regency period and the far-ranging consequences of the Napoleonic Code. And with suspense she has free rein to explore forensic matters and the strong convolutions of the human mind. Like many writers, some days she hates the whole process, but somehow she just cannot let it go.

Vonnie was born in New Zealand, but she and her husband now live happily in Australia. If you visit Hamilton Gardens in New Zealand be sure to stroll through the Japanese Garden. These is a bronze plaque engraved with a haiku describing the peacefulness of that environment. The poem was written by Vonnie.

All of Vonnie’s books are available on The Wild Rose Press and Amazon.

Learn more about Vonnie Hughes on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Goodreads.

Sharing Excerpts

October 16, 2023 | Author Friend New Releases

from the Turning Stone Chronicles

By C.D. Hersh

Often, we are asked what is our favorite book or author. As writers there is another favorite that we have and that is certain sections of the books we have written. These favorite sections or excerpts become the lines shared to promote interest in the book. Today we thought we’d share some of our favorite lines from our paranormal romance series, The Turning Stone Chronicles Series.

Each of these books is a standalone in that there is a HEA in each. However, you will understand the continuing characters and their relationships if you start with the first book in the series.

With that said we will start our excerpts with the first book, The Promised One.

Tucking his gift under her arm, she started to leave.

“Hey.” He pointed at the other gifts. “Aren’t you going to add yours?”

“Nope. I’ll give it to you later, when we’re alone.”

“Ooh. Something special. Mineral or animal?” His right eyebrow raised, his smile growing.

Alexi laughed. “Just embarrassing.”

“For you or for me?”

“I’m not telling.”

Sidling close to her, he backed her against the wall. “Come on. Just a hint,” he said, a purr in his tone as he placed his hand on the wall next to her shoulder and moved into her personal space with the ease of a lover. One of his famous melt-the-girl looks smoldered in his gaze. The golden flecks in his green eyes lit up like fireworks. Hot fireworks.

Enjoying his closeness and the raw sensuality emanating from him, she lingered for a minute, then slowly moved away. Standing this close she could get burned, and she wasn’t ready to play with fire . . . not yet. She shook her head. “Not a chance.”

He crossed his arms, obviously irked that she hadn’t succumbed.

“My irresistible charms work on everyone else. Why not you?”

Oh, if you only knew. She had to fight to resist him. She flashed him a smile. “Because I’m special. And I’m your partner. Keeping your back safe is more important than getting you on your back.”

He laughed, a deep, throaty, and utterly sexy sound.

She locked her knees to keep from melting into a puddle.

“I like the sound of that.”

Of course you would. She felt her face flame.

Now for the second book, Blood Brothers, excerpt.

Sylvia Jordan Riley winced as Falhman dug into her shoulder and extracted a bullet. He dropped the bullet into the trash and swabbed the wound. “You want to tell me how you got injured?” he asked as he reached for the needle to stitch the gaping hole.

“Chasing Promised Ones.” And the man who murdered my ex-husband.

“I hope it was worth this.”

“It was.” She’d torn Baron’s killer to shreds, but that wasn’t the best part of her news. “I’ve found someone who shifted with me by using the power from my ring.”

Falhman stopped stitching and stared intently at Sylvia, his eyes glittering with undisguised interest. “Is he a rogue shifter?”

“I don’t think he’s any kind of shifter. He seemed startled when the shift occurred.”

“A non-shifter who can use the ring without the incantation? What’s his name?”

“Temple. Rhys Temple. There’s only one problem.” Sylvia paused then continued, “He’s in love with Baron Jordan’s niece, Alexi.”

“I thought that whole family was dead.”

“She’s the last one left, and I think she’s on track as a Promised One.”

Falhman went back to stitching Sylvia’s skin with practiced ease. “Get rid of her and get him. If we can control someone with that kind of power, we can control the world.”

Sylvia looked at her superior. He made it sound simple. Kill Alexi Jordan and lure Rhys to the dark side. Piece of cake? Not if a Jordan was involved. From her recent dealings with Alexi, she knew there would be one heck of a fight if she tried to take her man.

The third book in the series, Son of the Moonless Night, has some new characters but continues the underlying story. Here’s the excerpt:

A head of lettuce and a grapefruit escaped from the paper grocery sack as Katrina leaned sideways on tippy toes to get the topmost lock. The vegetables rolled across the small concrete patio at the bottom of the stairway well and stopped against a leg of the wrought iron café table. Whispering an expletive, she pushed the door open and placed her purse and grocery sack on the entryway table just inside the door. Then she swiveled to get the runaway vegetables.

A very pleasant and interesting sight greeted her. A pair of dark trousers caressed a toned posterior of the man bending over to retrieve her vegetables. She fought to rein in the path her mind started down. Been too long, Katrina, she said to herself as the vision straightened and turned around.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “I thought you had gone inside.”

The way he held the vegetables out in front of him made her wonder what his hands would feel like if he held her breasts in that manner.

“Hello? Are you awake?”

“Ah, ah,” Katrina sputtered as she focused on his face to get her mind out of the gutter.

“Okay. Awake, but not here yet.” The corner of his lips started to rise.

“You,” she breathed when she recognized him. “Where’s my grandmother’s afghan and my Cleveland Brown’s hoodie?”

“Nice to see you, too, and thank you, I’m feeling fine.”

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “If you hadn’t run off I’d have known you were okay.”

The smile inched up the side of his cheek, lighting his electric blue eyes. “You worried about me. How sweet.”

“Sweet, my patootie. I just . . . You could have bled . . . Oh, crap. Where’s my stuff?”

He took another step closer to her. The deep blue ring around his amazing eyes seemed to darken.

She leaned back from him.

Without taking his eyes off her, he nodded to a brightly colored gift bag on the ground beside the door. “I got blood on the afghan so I had it cleaned. It wasn’t badly stained. The blood came out. The hoodie’s a different story. I couldn’t salvage it, so I bought a replacement.” Balancing the vegetables in one hand he lifted the gift bag to her. “Forgiven? Please?”

Book four, The Mercenary and the Shifters, gets more characters involved in the struggle. Here’s the excerpt:

Mike Corritore wheeled up the circular drive of the impressive house on Lakeshore Road and cut the engine on his motorcycle. After a quick glance around, he shouldered the bags containing his clothes, ammo, pump shotgun, and talwar sword. Then he headed for the carved front door. The doorbell echoed inside indicating the mansion had a cavernous entry hall. He searched the entrance stoop for security cameras and found none.

What the heck had he gotten himself into? A rich bitch, with no security on her home, mixed up with a bad syndicate spelled major trouble. With this chintzy level of security, it would take more time than he originally anticipated to make her house and business secure.

After a couple of minutes, the door opened.

“Can I help you?” asked an attractive redhead.

“I’m Mike Corritore. Here to see Fiona Kayler. Will you tell her I’ve arrived?”

The redhead looked him over, then braced her legs shoulder width apart and crossed her arms over her curvy bust. “Do you have identification, Mr. Corritore?”

Mike returned her once-over. Her porcelain complexion blushed pink at his bold examination, and she tossed her mane of wavy, mahogany hair defiantly.
Damn, she was gorgeous.

If she thought her insolent pose enough to keep him, or intruders out, she’d better reconsider.

“Hugh sent me.” He stepped forward but she blocked him.

“A driver’s license for your very expensive motorcycle will suffice,” she said, wiggling her fingers at him. When he didn’t comply, she stepped back and reached to the side of the door.

The distinct cachung of a gun cocking sent him flying to the right of the doorway.

“Identification, Mr. Corritore. Please,” she said as she leveled a pistol at him.

Mike dug in his rear pants’ pocket. “Hugh lied,” he said as he held out his driver’s license. “You don’t need protection.”

After inspecting his identification, she lowered her weapon and waved him inside. “For my business, Mr. Corritore. I’m capable of protecting my home, but I can’t draw my gun just anywhere.”

“You should get a conceal and carry license,” Mike said as he entered.

She put the safety on the gun and stashed the weapon in the table beside the front door.

“I take it you’re not the help,” he said, glancing around the entry hall.

She held out her hand. “Fiona Kayler. Nice to meet you, Mr. Corritore.”

“Mike,” he said, taking her hand. Her palm, warm and soft, told him she lived a life of leisure. But her strong grip screamed, No patsy. He held her hand a bit longer than he should have. She wriggled free and waved him to the left.

“Ladies first.”

With a nod, she led him toward a sumptuously decorated room. He followed, his eyes taking in the soft curves of her rear as she sashayed across the marble-tiled floor. Mike’s body reacted to the seductive wiggle of her bottom. She walked as sexy as she looked.

Keep your mind on the job, Corritore. He shifted his gaze away from temptation, searching the ceiling and corners of the entry for security cameras. If she had them, they were well hidden.

The measured click of her high heels on the hard marble tile floor disappeared as they stepped on the thick, white carpet of the living room. This room appeared cozier than the entry. A huge gold, gilt-edged mirror hung over the fireplace reflecting the scene outside the oversized plate-glass window.

She motioned to a seat beside the fireplace. Mike chose a location less exposed to the exterior, where he could watch the entrance to the room. Fiona dragged a side chair across the room to where he sat, positioning it at a right angle to his seat. Two vertical furrows appeared in the carpeting, bisecting their shoe impressions and the vacuumed paths in the thick fibers. Apparently, she didn’t use this room much.

“So, Ms. Kayler—”

“Fiona,” she corrected.

“Fiona, exactly what do you need me to do?” As he said the words, he had a lurid vision of what he’d like to do to this lovely woman. He shook it off. She was Hugh’s friend and in trouble. He had no business screwing around with damsels in distress. They were needy. The last thing he wanted.

“A couple of years ago I had a problem with smugglers. They brought in some hazardous materials which got me in trouble with Homeland Security and the FBI. They cleared me, but my business took a pretty big hit. To keep things afloat, I’ve had to get in bed with some rough characters recently.”

At the phrase get in bed with Mike cocked his eyebrow at her.

“Not literally,” she amended quickly, as a dusky pink blush crept over her pale complexion. “I need my security beefed up, so I don’t have a replay of two years ago.”

“Any good security company could upgrade you.”

“I also need someone I can trust implicitly. Hugh vouched for you, and I trust Hugh.”

“We should start with your home security. I didn’t see surveillance cameras at the door.”

“My home is perfectly safe. It’s my business I’m concerned about.”

Fiona crossed her arms over her chest, her body language closing off to further suggestions. Mike followed her motions. As he did, he spotted a red dot on her chest. The dot wiggled.

“Get down!” Mike shouted as he dove for Fiona.

They hit the floor as the pottery on the raised fireplace hearth exploded, sending shards across the room. Mike shoved Fiona behind the nearest chair then scrambled across the rug to the blown-out window. Removing his gun from his back-of-the-waist holster, he peered over the windowsill. Seeing no one in the driveway, he swiveled around to check on Fiona. The red laser point danced around the room, searching for a target.

We hope you enjoyed this look into some of our favorite lines from our books and maybe got interested to follow along with the story.

Putting words and stories on paper is second nature to the husband and wife co-authors whose pen name is C.D. Hersh. They’ve written separately since they were teenagers and discovered their unique, collaborative abilities in the mid-90s while co-authoring a number of dramas, six which have been produced in Ohio, where they live. Their interactive Christmas production had five seasonal runs in their hometown and has been sold in Virginia, California, and Ohio. As high school sweethearts, Catherine and Donald believe in true love and happily ever after. Which is why they write it!

The first four books of their paranormal romance series entitled
The Turning Stone Chronicles Series page are available on Amazon. Their standalone novella, Can’t Stop The Music, is in the Soul Mate Tree collection with twelve other authors from various genres.

When they aren’t collaborating on a book, they enjoy reading; singing; theatre and drama; traveling; remodeling houses (Donald has remodeled something in every home they’ve owned); and antiquing. Catherine, who loves gardening, has recently drawn Donald into her world as a day laborer. Catherine is an award-winning gardener — you can see some of her garden on their website.

They are looking forward to many years of co-authoring and book sales, and a lifetime of happily-ever-after endings on the page and in real life.

You can see excerpts of their books, connect with, and follow C.D. Hersh at:

Website, Facebook, Amazon Author Page, and Twitter

NEW RELEASE FOR EMMA LANE

August 21, 2023 | Author Friend New Releases

Soul Mate Publishing is happy to announce they released an intriguing Recency romance from noted author Emma Lane. Here’s a little to pique your interest.

Lord Sutcliffe meets a pretty miss on a dusty country road and rescues her from an embarrassing dilemma. It must have been magic as his intention was only to steal a quick buss. Instead, he is astonished to find himself involved in a passionate kiss which leaves him shaken to the core.

Frances, the vicar’s eldest daughter, should have put that impudent, frivolous lord in his place. Why she responded to his kiss the way she did, she’d never know, only that the feelings were too delicious to resist.

Frances, consumed with prejudice, and the baron, filled with pride, enter a relationship that begins with them both skeptical they would ever measure up to the roles they are destined to play.

What did he know of estate matters? He was born a military man. How could he convince a vicar’s daughter to join him and fill his lonely days as well as the long nights?

Will Frances’s quest to fill her mother’s shoes cause Frances to turn away from a passionate, happily-ever-after love of her own so freely offered?

BUY LINK

This book is dedicated to young love everywhere and to a special young lady, ERM. Many thanks to an understanding publisher and her staff.

Janis Lane is the penname for gifted author Emma Lane who writes cozy mysteries as Janis, Regency as Emma, and spice as Sunny Lane.

She lives in Western New York where winter is snowy, spring arrives with rave reviews, summer days are long and velvet, and fall leaves are riotous in color. At long last she enjoys the perfect bow window for her desk where she is treated to a year-round panoramic view of nature. Her computer opens up a fourth fascinating window to the world. Her patient husband is always available to help with a plot twist and encourage Emma to never quit. Her day job is working with flowers at Herbtique and Plant Nursery, the nursery she and her son own.

Look for information about writing and plants on Emma’s new website. Leave a comment or a gardening question and put a smile on Emma’s face.

Stay connected to Emma on Facebook and Twitter. Be sure to check out the things that make Emma smile on Pinterest.

NEW RELEASE for STELLA MAY!

May 31, 2023 | Author Friend New Releases

The acclaimed time travel series, Upon a Time, from Stella May goes full circle with Book Four, releasing May 31, 2023. A Twirl in Time shows how it all began. Be sure to get your copy today!

A jaded CEO. A fiercely focused ballerina. A love that defies all society’s rules.

SoHo, 1962

JJ Morris, successful CEO, leads a secret double life, playing saxophone to his heart’s content in his hole-in-the-wall dive bar. Yet he can’t escape the feeling he’s slowly petrifying into just another jaded millionaire.

Then a gorgeous blonde steps into his bar and shakes up his world. Certain this fierce little swan of a woman is exactly what’s missing in his life, he maps out a plan to wed her by Christmas. With or without his snobby mother’s approval.

Most women would be thrilled to learn that the tall, handsome bar musician is, in fact, a wealthy prince charming. Verochka Osipoff is less than impressed. She’s focused on becoming a prima ballerina, and everything hinges on her next audition. She can’t afford distractions, especially a rich playboy slumming it in SoHo.

Yet the heat of their attraction melts Verochka’s heart like warm chocolate. But JJ’s world is a cold, glittering nest of vipers. And their venom could destroy their love song before the first movement ends.

EXCERPT

The sound of a saxophone halted her steps. That deep, velvety voice grabbed her by her throat, and refused to let go. Holding her breath, mesmerized, Verochka stopped, then pivoted. Where did it come from? Straining her ears, she looked around, searching the almost empty street. Guided by her hearing, she glanced at the closed doors on her right. The Broome Street Bar. Inside, the sax murmured its enchanting tale, sad, and touching, and heartbreaking.

Mon Dieu! What must one feel to play like that?

Verochka closed her eyes and swayed to the music. Her arms by their own volition lifted and moved in a lazy, unhurried wave. She visualized the dance in her mind, something slow and sensual. Strange, but she never paid attention to jazz before. Then again, she was never partial to any music except classical.

To her, there was nothing and no one compared to Tchaikovsky. But the soulful notes of that sax fascinated her as much as the famous opening theme from Swan Lake. When the sound trailed off, she felt almost bereft. She craved to hear more. Will the musician play again? Oh, she hopped so. She’d wait for it.

Outside? On the sidewalk at almost ten at night?

Unwise, not to mention quite dangerous. Granted, this spot in SoHo was not prone to crime. But still. A young woman alone was bound to attract some attention.  Verochka looked at the closed door of the bar, biting her lip.

To go inside, or continue on her way? The wisest thing to do, of course, was to turn around, and go home, to her tiny apartment. It was late. She must rest before her wake-up call at 5:30 AM. All morning classes of Madame Valeska started at precisely 6 AM, and God forbid if any of the dancers were late even by a minute. The wrath of her teacher definitely equaled to her worldwide fame as a former principal dancer of The Royal Ballet.

Tired after the long day of classes and rehearsals, then cleaning the premises, Verochka barely kept upright. She hated her after- hours janitorial obligations, but promise was a promise. And Verochka Osipoff never broke her word.

No matter how spent she was, each and every evening, after all the dancers went home, and the school was closed, she headed to the closet for a broom and a bucket. At first, she didn’t mind it at all. It was an arrangement made in heaven. An eighteen-year-old orphan from France, determined to reach her dream, Verochka arrived at the doors of the famous New York ballet school with nothing but fifty dollars to her name and a small satchel that belonged to her father.

After her initial shock faded, the formidable Madame Valeska, the owner of the school, ordered Verochka to change into her leotards, and dance.

Her final verdict delivered in a grumbling voice was like a heavenly music to Verochka’s ears.

“You have a potential, Miss Osipoff. I’ll take a chance on you, and let you stay for a probationary period of three months. After that, we’ll see.”

Verochka’s elation was huge, but temporary. The school was obscenely expensive. No way she was able to afford the tuition. There was a stipend, but applying for it took only God knew how long, with no guarantee that it will be granted in the end.

On top of it, she was a foreigner, all alone in the strange country, and barely able to speak English.

Madame Valeska, quickly assessing the situation— more accurately, feeling sorry for her— offered Verochka a deal: the education in exchange for cleaning services. A tiny room in the attic as a temporary place to live was added to that offer. To Verochka, it was like a Christmas gift she could never have dreamt about.

Overwhelmed, moved to tears, Verochka grabbed the opportunity with both hands. After a while, she got her stipend for the gifted and unprivileged students, thanks to Madame Valeska’s help, and was able to cover most of her tuition.

The convenience of living on the premises saved her the expense of a rent, and occasional participation in corps de ballet’s performances made everything else manageable. She didn’t need a lot of food, as her extremely strict diet fell mostly into yogurt and fruit category. As to clothes— she learned at her dancing parents knee the skill to mend tears and repair pointe shoes.

Two years later, Verochka was still living in the attic, and still mopped the floors, and cleaned the premises. But it didn’t matter. Her main goal to become a prima ballerina of The Royal Ballet took the precedence over everything else.

Ambitious? Maybe. But, as her father always said, you must dream big. Otherwise, what was the point? So, she dreamed big, and worked like a woman possessed in order to reach that dream. She was content, and happy, and along the way, fell in love with New York, her new home. Her only home. She learned English, and became quite fluent in it, even though her accent stubbornly refused to be erased.

Of course, she missed France, and Paris, and small street cafes, and long strolls along the Seine. Oh, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sprinkled with powdered sugar beignets! Sometimes, she could smell them in her dreams.

But most of all, she missed her parents. She was sure they were looking at her from heaven, smiling, proud of her accomplishments.

Her occasional nostalgia was usually sweet, and short, like a children’s lullaby.

But not tonight.

After finishing her duties, Verochka was ambushed by a sadness so huge, she almost doubled down with it. Suffocated in the large empty building that housed the ballet school, she was lonely, isolated, until she couldn’t bear another minute longer locked inside. Hence, her impromptu evening walk that brought her in the middle of SoHo, to the Broome Street Bar.

The plaintive sounds of sax reached her ears again.

Oh, yeas, please.

Listening to those seductive low rumbles, she wondered about the player.

Who was he? Or was it a she? Why was that melody so sad, so sorrowful?

Available at BOOKS2READ, AMAZON, and GOOGLE PLAY BOOKS

Stella May is the penname for Marina Sardarova who has a fascinating history you should read on her website.

Stella writes fantasy romance as well as time travel romance. She is the author of ‘Till Time Do Us Part, Book 1 in her Upon a Time series, and the stand-alone book Rhapsody in Dreams. Love and family are two cornerstones of her stories and life. Stella’s books are available in e-book and paperback through all major vendors.

When not writing, Stella enjoys classical music, reading, and long walks along the ocean with her husband. She lives in Jacksonville, Florida with her husband Leo of 25 years and their son George. They are her two best friends and are all partners in their family business.

Follow Stella on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

THE BOY WHO BECAME A ROBIN

April 24, 2023 | Author Friend New Releases

From Linda Lee Greene Author/Artist

I am always in search of ways to connect with my Cherokee roots, and in that effort, I belong to several Facebook groups centered on Native American history and lifeways, both past and present. The following, delightful “coming of age” Chippewa legend “The Boy Who Became a Robin” was posted on Facebook initially by my Facebook friend, Katherine Collins (Lady Night Hawk).

“Once upon a time there was an old Indian who had an only son whose name was Opeechee. The boy had come to the age when every Indian lad makes a fast in order to secure a Spirit to be his guardian for life.

“The old man was very proud, and he wished his son to fast longer than other boys, and to become a greater warrior than all others. So, he directed him to prepare with solemn ceremonies for the fast.

“After the boy had been in the sweating lodge and bath several times, his father commanded him to lie down upon a clean mat, in a little lodge apart from the rest. ‘My Son, endure your hunger like a man, and at the end of twelve days, you will receive food and a blessing from my hands.’

“The boy was careful to do all his father commanded, and lay quietly with his face covered, awaiting the arrival of his guardian Spirit who was to bring him good or bad dreams.

“His father visited him every day, encouraging him to endure with patience the pangs of hunger and thirst. He told him of the honor and renown that would be his if he continued his fast to the end of the twelve days.

“To all of this the boy replied not, but lay on his mat without a murmur of discontent, until the ninth day, when he said, ‘My Father, the dreams tell me of evil. May I break my fast now, and at a better time make a new one?’

“‘My Son, you know not what you ask. If you get up now, all your glory will depart. Wait patiently a little longer. You have but three days more to fast, then glory and honor will be yours.’

“The boy said nothing more, but covering himself closer, he lay until the eleventh day, when he spoke again. ‘My Father, the dreams forebode evil. May I break my fast now, and at a better time make a new one?’

“’My Son, you know not what you ask. Wait patiently a little longer. You have but one more day to fast. Tomorrow I will myself prepare a meal and bring it to you.’ The boy remained silent and motionless beneath his covering except for the gentle heaving of his breast.

“Early the next morning his father, overjoyed at having gained his end, prepared some food. The food in hand, he took it and hastened to the lodge intending to set it before his son. Upon approaching the door of the lodge, to his surprise he heard the boy talking to someone. He lifted the curtain hanging before the doorway, and looking in saw his son painting his breast with vermilion. And as the lad laid on the bright color as far back on his shoulders as he could reach, he was saying to himself, ‘My father has destroyed my fortune as a man. He would not listen to my requests. I shall be happy forever because I was obedient to my parent, but he will suffer. My guardian Spirit has given me a new form, and now I must go!’

“At this his father rushed into the lodge, crying, ‘My Son! My Son! I pray you leave me not!’

‘But the boy, with the quickness of a bird, flew to the top of the lodge and perching upon the highest pole, was instantly changed in a most beautiful Robin Redbreast. Looking down with pity in his eyes, he said, ‘Do not sorrow, O my Father. I am no longer your boy but Opeechee the Robin. I shall always be a friend to men and live near their dwellings. I shall ever be happy and content. Every day I will sing you songs of joy. The mountains and fields yield my food. My pathway is in the bright air.’

“Then Opeechee the Robing stretched himself as if delighting in his new wings and caroling his sweetest song, flew away to the nearby trees.”

Here is a brief intro to one of Linda’s bestselling novels.

Guardians and Other Angels, multi-award-winning author Linda Lee Greene’s novel, chronicles the story of two heroic families played out against the bad and the good of the early to mid-twentieth century, years of worldwide economic depression and war, as well as the spawning of the “Greatest Generation.” Firsthand accounts of the times in authentic letters written by members of the families are peppered throughout the book.

Available in paperback and eBook on Amazon

Multi-award-winning author and artist Linda Lee Greene describes her life as a telescope that when trained on her past reveals how each piece of it, whether good or bad or in-between, was necessary in the unfoldment of her fine art and literary paths.

Greene moved from farm-girl to city-girl; dance instructor to wife, mother, and homemaker; divorcee to single-working-mom and adult-college-student; and interior designer to multi-award-winning artist and author, essayist, and blogger. It was decades of challenging life experiences and debilitating, chronic illness that gave birth to her dormant flair for art and writing. Greene was three days shy of her fifty-seventh birthday when her creative spirit took a hold of her.

She found her way to her lonely easel soon thereafter. Since then Greene has accepted commissions and displayed her artwork in shows and galleries in and around the USA. She is also a member of artist and writer associations.

Visit Linda on her blog and join her on Facebook.

 

NEW RELEASE for STELLA MAY

December 5, 2022 | Author Friend New Releases

The eagerly awaited Book Three in Stella May’s highly acclaimed time travel romance series Upon a Time is here! This series makes a great Christmas gift for all readers on your list. It is available in e-book and paperback. Here is a peek of Stella’s New Release.

The only way to save their future is risk a journey back to her past.

Time is running out. The message rings in Abby Coleman’s head as clear as the chime of the grandfather clock, her time portal on Amelia Island. Her instincts scream that she must move. Act. But where? And why?

Through she leaped forward a century in time to live an independent life, she reluctantly admits she needs Alex, the insufferable thorn in her side who had the audacity to make her hope. Dream. Yearn.

Alex is through waiting for Abby to come to her senses. And to his complete surprise, the maddening, beautiful woman admits she loves him. Yet to his everlasting frustration, she refuses to marry until she solves her mystery.

In a blinding flash of light, the portal spits out a desperate, heavily pregnant Nika, and the reason becomes all too clear. With Abby missing from her own time, Eli stands accused of her murder. The only way to clear his name is for Abby to go where Alex can’t follow—back through the portal. And one passionate night together may be all they’ll ever have.

AMAZON BUY LINK E-BOOK

AMAZON BUY LINK PAPERBACK

Stella May is the penname for Marina Sardarova who has a fascinating history you should read on her website.

Stella writes fantasy romance as well as time travel romance. She is the author of ‘Till Time Do Us Part, Book 1 in her Upon a Time series, and the stand-alone book Rhapsody in Dreams. Love and family are two cornerstones of her stories and life. Stella’s books are available in e-book and paperback through all major vendors.

When not writing, Stella enjoys classical music, reading, and long walks along the ocean with her husband. She lives in Jacksonville, Florida with her husband Leo of 25 years and their son George. They are her two best friends and are all partners in their family business.

Follow Stella on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.