Loving someone is something you never forget how to do . . .
Zoe Hornsby has enough on her plate. Her pet grooming business tucked inside her friends’ veterinarian clinic is busy, and all her free time outside of work is dedicated to caring for her mother’s ailing mind. Dating is certainly not on her agenda. For all she cares, the town gossips of Redwood Ridge, Oregon, can set their matchmaking sights on someone else. Because no way would she consider sexy veterinarian Drake O'Grady her perfect guy. Once upon a time, she may have harbored a little crush, but he’d only had eyes for her best friend. And the crazy attraction building between her and Drake now? Down boy, down.
After Drake lost his wife to cancer, he’s finally clawed his way out of grief and beginning to feel more like a part of the human race. But he’s appalled to learn his prying family thinks he's ready to jump in the dating pool. And the woman they thrust at him couldn’t be more inappropriate. As his dead wife’s best friend, Zoe is off limits. Even if they seem to share a common sadness, she is too potent a personality to get romantically tangled with. Yet she’s making his heart beat and blood roar like he never thought it could again. And he doesn't want to just exist anymore . . .
Yes, this will is me, blubbering through yet another emotional review for a Kelly Moran book, but as long as she keeps writing them, I am pretty sure I will be blubbering... Because I am having a serious author crush on her and her writing style to take the stories so deep to the dark corners of the human mind, to the hidden emotions that make us so vulnerable, to the depth of the passion and adoration that makes lovers inseparable...
And in New Tricks she touches an issue within a family that had me floored from the chapter one - the (early set) dementia and its consequences on any family it touches, and the tough, wrenching labor of love it is for the family members to witness it and take care of those who suffer from it. The moments with Zoe's mom are filled with love and respect, yet so realistic and painful, as are the conflicted feelings Zoe has about her mother's care.
The whole cast of characters won me over in the book one of the series, and even though these stories are standalone novels, the family is important to all of them, and thus all the members are playing an important role in each book.
I have been waiting to read about Drake and Zoe, to see how they manage to find their way to a romantic relationship, how they will get over Heather's death, and the part she played in their lives. And it is a touching, beautiful, intense road, that had more roadblocks than expected, yet so filled with true love and scorching passion it had me smiling, sighing, swooning, and tearful through the night as I inhaled the story on one emotion-filled swoop.
Drake O'Grady is the hot, brooding, oldest brother and surgeon vet, and a widow. His high school sweetheart passed away four years ago, and it had taken Drake years to find the way out of the foggy existence of grief. His anchor and dear friend through it all, Zoe, is suddenly waking up feelings in him that baffle and scare him, while intriguing and alluring him to find out more. The battle to let go of the past was getting easier each day, now he just had to convince Zoe that the one he wanted to build future with was right there in front of him the whole time.
Zoe Hornsby is one tough, capable, colorful, independent lady. I admired her, I adored her, I wanted to be like her. She faces the storms of life head-on, showing no fear even though it is festering inside. She has a tender, loving, loyal heart, yet there aren't many she is willing to show it or admit its existence to. She works hard, she takes care of her mother, she has given up her own life, her own goals, and dreams and even her teenage crush, yet she is no martyr, there is not an ounce of bitterness in her.
The connection and chemistry between Zoe and Drake are tangible and something so special, tender, sweet, hot, and sensuous it took my breath away. Yes, it is an emotional journey, yet the emotions touch the whole range from joy and jubilee to raw pain and fear.
Yet again the author has managed to stun me with the amount of emotional depth she manages to put into a story. The natural flow of the story keeps the mind hooked to the tale, the allure of the fascinating characters is strong, the road to happily ever after lined with both beauty and barries, and there're pets, cute, doting doggies and cats...!
~ Five Spoons!
New Tricks comes out September 27th - The perfect time to read books 1 & 2 while waiting...
Bestselling author Kelly Moran says she gets her ideas from everyone and everything around her and there’s always a book playing out in her head. No one who knows her bats an eyelash when she talks to herself, and no one is safe from becoming her next fictional character. She is a Catherine Award-Winner, Readers Choice Finalist, Holt Medallion Finalist, and earned one of the 10 Best Reads by USA Today's HEA. She is also a Romance Writers of America member. Her interests include: sappy movies, MLB, NFL, driving others insane, and sleeping when she can. She is a closet caffeine junkie and chocoholic, but don’t tell anyone. She resides in Wisconsin with her husband, three sons, and two dogs. Most of her family lives in the Carolinas, so she spends a lot of time there as well. She loves hearing from her readers.
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Wanted: Husband and Father
Stunned that his sister ordered him a mail-order bride, John Wallin insists he's not the husband Dottie Tyrrell needs. The scholarly logger knows Dottie will make the perfect wife--for some other man. Yet he's compelled to invite the lovely widow and her infant son to stay with his family...but only until she can find her own way.
Dreams of true love are for other women. Betrayed by her baby's father, Dottie just wants a safe home for her precious child. But who could resist a man with John's quiet strength? When her secret past brings danger to their door, they may yet find this mail-order mix-up to be the perfect mistake...
What a delightful, refreshingly genuine, and endearing story! Last night I was just going to start the book and finish it today, but I was so engaged in the twists of the plot and the destinies of the characters I could not put it down until I reached the very satisfying ending of the tale.
The story is well balanced and the plot is built cleverly. It has the perfect portion of drama and trouble, joy and sweetness, faith in God and growth as a character. All the elements are well embedded into the romance, suspense, and the everyday life at the frontier, engaging the mind of the reader, and welcoming to join the scenes.
John Wallin is such a good, lovable man. He is humble, kind, helpful, generous, protective, great with kids, adults, and pets. His doubts of his own worth and input to the society showed his unpretentious nature and made me love and appreciate him even more. He is both alpha and beta, and the perfect mate to Dottie Tyrrell. I loved his relationship with the Lord. John's faith is a natural part of him, and his conversations in prayer with God are artless and sincere.
Dottie's life is currently driven by the motivation to keep her son safe, and herself away from her baby's father. The fear, shame, worrying and suppressing her life, emotions, and future goals and needs are all temporary. Underneath it all is a kindhearted, capable, and lonely woman, wishing for a connection and circle of friends, even family, to belong to.
The connection between John and Dottie is adorable and tangible. The danger intensifying around them increase the depth of the emotions growing between them, yet the feelings are true and real and hold the test of the drama and trouble surrounding Dottie's past.
A charming, genuine, earnest tale that captivated my mind and won over my heart.
~ Four Spoon with a teaspoon on the side
by J.L. Meyers
Genre: Psychological Thriller
A fatal car crash. The sole survivor. And the dark hooded stranger that wants her dead.
When a terrible accident--not accident--stole my parents’ lives, my whole perfect life changed. My memories are hazy, and there are scars on my wrists. I’ve been locked away for my own protection…until I prove my sanity, until I lie. There was no hooded figure on the road that day, no one standing over me as I lay paralyzed watching my parents burn.
I am Cassidy Lockheart…20-year-old orphan.
Determined to free my caged mind, I find myself far away on an unexpected trip to help return my forgotten past. The snow was part of my life before, but now it’s like a blank slate, until an avalanche changes everything. But I’m not alone. These other ‘lucky’ trip winners may not be the strangers they pretend to be. And my hooded attacker…I see him everywhere.
Is this real? Or delusion caused by head trauma?
Either way, I’m being watched. I can sense it. I can feel it. Someone is after me; maybe they’re after us all. The avalanche was no accident. It was staged to deliver us to this abandoned place. A place where the walls whisper dark secrets of a sinister past…a past no one can escape. Trapped, this snow won’t let up…it won’t let us leave. My lost memories hold clues, but they’re buried so deep, polluted and twisted in my every waking nightmare. What is real? I don’t have the answers. But I need them. Time is ticking and if I don’t figure this all out soon it will be too late.
The past is coming for us all…and it wants blood.
Warning - This book contains some graphic scenes that are only for an adult audience.
Psychological Thriller / Horror
"Think of the tension of Silence of the Lambs combined with the horror of Carrie and you have Nerve Damage. This is a psychological thriller that won’t let you put it down, yet you are almost too scared to turn the page!”
This chilling tale from J.L. Myers is a suspenseful and twisted addition to other great psychological thrillers from the likes of Sarah A. Denzil, K.L. Slater, and Dot Hutchison.
I trudged along a scenic, tree-winding road that saw at most a few cars every hour. In gray jeans and a black hoodie, I blended into the dreary surroundings, just another shadow below the early morning ashen clouds.
A deep ache settled in and I shrugged my clanking backpack higher once, twice, three times after a few more steps. My gloved hand on the strap kept the heavy load from sliding back down. My car was well out of reach now. Out of sight too, down over the steep drop-off to the right in an isolated parking lot no one used in these colder months of the year. Safe and hidden…until I needed it. The rain that fell was ignored, the crunch of wet gravel under my combat boots lost to the sway of wind-battered trees.
Though I stared ahead, what I saw was not the hardening downpour or the flying of loose leaves. Instead, I saw a girl’s face. Young. Innocent. Twentyish with forest-green eyes and long, almost black hair. Her smile had been infectious and the words from her pretty mouth had set my course. “…Saturday morning. At the crack of dawn. My dad doesn’t believe in waiting for sunrise. Not when the whole day is waiting. That Kananaskis Trail…”
Now I was here. Soon I’d be the one waiting.
Right before a hairpin bend on this less-traveled road, my booted strides stopped. Anticipation filled me with a flood of warmth, but a deep breath of brisk air tightened my chest. I ignored the discomfort as raindrops trickled down my brow and cheeks. After days, months, and years this was it. There was no turning back now. This was my only escape, my only way to make the past right.
Dropping my backpack with a clatter and quick stretch of my back, I bent over. A flash of cold metal came free, long like a chain but not as smooth. The long length jangled as I stretched it out over the asphalt and then the weedy grass beyond before tucking the end behind a bush.
A quick jog delivered me back across the road and I reclaimed my lumpy backpack. Then I was back at the bush and crouching behind it. A quick grab and click cemented the scene as my Polaroid camera hummed out a happy snap. A memento. As I tucked the device back out of the rain, a set of headlights shone around a smooth bend back down the road and brought my head up.
“Shit!” I spat from beneath my hood as an old sedan sailed too fast up the rain-slicked road. My gloved hands tugged the length of metal back just before the sedan’s tires could claim those sharp spikes. Heart pounding like a drum, I muttered as I watched the red taillights disappear around the bend. Wrong car. Then I ran out to string those spikes back in place. An approaching white glow had my hood snapping up to see another car coming.
Right on time.
Racing back over the road, I dove for cover behind the bush. The headlights of the approaching white Merc flashed on highs for two beats.
I’d been spotted.
And then the front tires hit the spikes. With a hiss of released air, traction was lost. The man driving yanked the steering wheel and anchored on the brakes, the tires barely squealing on the wet asphalt. But it was too late. The drenched road provided a slippery passage as the sedan fishtailed then spun, sliding sideways over the edge too fast to stop. It tipped on the sudden drop-off, tumbling guts over roof, guts over roof.
The tall cypress tree that halted its descent with a deafening clap wasn’t a Godsend. Metal cried out as it curved around the tree, reshaping the driver’s side and shattering the windshield.
And then there was a moment of pure quiet, nothing but the sound of peaceful whooshing wind as the rain eased off.
Tugging back the spikes and concealing them behind the bush, I hoisted up the backpack and unhurriedly made my way down the slippery path to the wreck. The next part to come was a means to an end. My anticipation lied in the aftermath but not in this act. And yet with each step, I felt nothing. No uncertainty. No regret. Those feelings I’d shed long ago. I’d had no choice.
Reaching the wreckage, red was visible beneath the mud-caked windows. My backpack was dropped to gain a closer look. The middle-aged female in the front passenger side was out cold, with cuts that leaked blood down her face to her blouse. In the driver’s side, the man’s features were unrecognizable, covered in glossy red. There was a creak of movement. It wasn’t him. In the back, there she was, her perfect lips no longer smiling and dark bruising puffing up her pale face. With a blink of her lids over her bloodshot green eyes, she wasn’t dead.
Unfortunate for her…she was coming around.
I tugged the car’s back door open and reached in, taking hold of the young woman and dragging her out. She was pretty out of it, eyes dazed and lids twitching. She was injured too, with multiple cuts and bruises on her face and arms. A bump on her forehead was ballooning beneath the skin. Her feet trailed as I dragged her by her arms across the mushed-up ground.
Then I noticed the object she somehow clutched in her tight fingers. A phone. Relieving her of the device once we were well out of reach, I positioned her to face the wreck.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you now.”
My combats squelched through the mud back to the car, and with a lean over the dead man, a click sounded as I unlocked the fuel tank. Back around the Merc, I found the fuel lid open and unscrewed the cap. My black Zippo lighter came free of my pocket along with a long rag. A minute or so after soaking the rag and I was yards away, the Zippo’s flame fighting the wind and rain and losing.
“Cassidy…” The woman still in the car—the young woman’s mother—was waking up. Still alive. She moved as her hand came up to her head. “Cas…talk to me.” She groaned, and then sucked air as she twisted to get a better view, seeing her husband and the empty back seat. “Cas!”
The girl’s eyes fluttered then went wide. Her voice was a painful rasp. “Mom…”
“Time to say goodbye.” There was a crunching scrape as the Zippo sparked back to life. The flame met the material’s end and I returned to the girl, turning to see the fire retreat.
“Mom!” The girl’s voice was shrill, and she swayed as she scrambled to get up. Her eyes rolled like marbles, bringing her back down. And then it was too late. With a whoosh the soaked rag below the sedan ignited in a fiery ball, climbing up the metal walls and curving inside the dry cab. The woman’s shrieks cut through the dying rain as my camera immortalized this moment in time. But the sounds of her death faded all too fast, the fire taking her pain away. Taking her life away.
As the girl I’d saved from the wreck whimpered, I readied what I needed before returning. Standing over her, the small boulder in my hands blocked the view of my face. The hefty weight of the rock returned that ache to my tired shoulders. “Don’t worry, Cassidy. This isn’t the end. I need your help…to bring them all to me.”
Jessica L Myers' vivid imagination and quiet demeanor as a child led her to the imaginary worlds of books. Even at a young age, her love for the supernatural was prevalent, with her first loved books being R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps series. Following that she took an interest in other non-fantasy fiction, including Virginia C. Andrews series Flowers in the Attic.
In her teen years, Jessica spent many school hours writing poetry and dark short stories and took up sketching some of the terrifying things that came from the graphic night terrors she’d grown up with.
As an adult and after meeting the love of her life, Jessica got married and started a small construction business with her husband. With the birth of her son, Jessica suffered PPD and found escape in her books and their fantasy landscapes. It was at this time that her need to write flourished. In 2009 the decision was made and the first words to her New Adult Paranormal Romance novel What Lies Inside were written.
When Jessica isn’t immersed in writing about extraordinary characters with dangerous abilities and deadly obstacles to overcome, she likes to spend time with her two kids and husband, curl up with a good book, or watch anything and everything supernatural.
Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!
RISKING HER HEART
Sloane Hartley is deeply rooted to her family’s ranch in Blue Falls, Texas. So she isn’t about to risk falling for a tempting tumbleweed like Jason Till. To Sloane, Jason is a handsome heartbreak waiting to happen. Like all rodeo cowboys. If she ever let herself love again, she certainly wouldn’t pick someone like him!
Jason only has eyes for one prize – the steer-wrestling championship. And he can’t afford any distractions. Certainly not a blond beauty with trust issues like Sloane. She represents everything a cowboy on the circuit can’t have anyway – home, family, a real relationship. Everything he thought he didn’t need. But when he’s with Sloane, Jason can’t remember why winning at the rodeo seemed so important…
I have really enjoyed seeing the Hartley siblings falling in love and finding their partners for life. There is something so heartwarming and outright fun about the family, the caring, the protectiveness, the banter, the teasing, the bond they have and how they are with each other - it was impossible for me not to fall for them!
Sloane has from the start been the most brickly sibling in the bunch, she keeps people at the arm's length even though it is obvious she has a heart the size of Texas, and she truly cares for the people surrounding her. Her camp for the foster kids is something she burns for, has a great passion for, to create lasting, happy memories with those whose everyday life is more challenged than most kinds lives ever will be.
The foster kid aspect of the story and the adopted siblings in the family are told about in an inspiring and encouraging way. I find myself wanting to support the cost and to make a difference after each book I have read in the series. That is a rare occasion that a story speaks so strongly to my heart, an admirable accomplishment for sure!
Jason Till is a true cowboy hero. He is kind, generous, considerate, handsome, and good with kids. He captures Sloane's attention, yet it takes a true effort on Jason's part and the whole family's help, to get Sloane to trust her instincts and her feelings. Thankfully, Jason has patience, good intentions, and his heart is true as enticing Sloane is not easy and it takes time for her to open up and trust both Jason's and her own feelings.
Then life throws a curveball and the budding relationship is put to a test either of them could not have foreseen.
A tender and sweet romance in a charming tale of rodeo cowboy on the road, falling in love with a woman whose trust and love is as challenging to win, as the national rodeo championship.
~ Four Spoons
HIS HIGH-STAKES BRIDE
Texan Brides #3
by Martha Hix
Genre: Historical Romance
Pub Date: 8/29/2017
Win, lose—or fall in love . . .
After losing her mama and all she has, vagabond Patience “Patty” Sweet dreams of reuniting with her father in the New Mexico territory. So she teams up with a no-good gambler whose winnings enable her to get her closer to her destination. Patty hates hanging around saloons and poker parlors, pulling dishonest deeds. But when a game of five-card draw goes wrong in Lubbock, Texas, Patty gets offered up as collateral—to a handsome stranger who’s about to turn the tables . . .
Lawyer Grant Kincaid has no intention of claiming his prize—a nearly nineteen-year-old petite beauty with sweet eyes—who has a hold on him he can’t deny. But as he tries to help Patty untangle herself from her shady partner, he discovers she’s not as innocent as she seems. For starters, she’s already stolen his hardened heart . . .
Lubbock, Texas, 1910 Under a full moon
It is a sad day in a woman’s life when she comes to grips with weakness of character. Today might have been that way for Patience Eileen Sweet, but she couldn’t dwell on something like that. Not this day, which had turned into a warm autumn night in 1910. Not when she intended to escape the mess of her own making. Her papa would have told her, “Patty Cake, proceed with caution.” He always claimed full moons bring babies, lunatics, and any number of disasters, particularly mine cave-ins.
Tonight would bring change; that she knew beforehand. This night unfolded for Patty in a saloon. By the midnight hour the floozies had served their last drinks and were nowhere to be seen, most of the customers having cleared out. The bartender did nothing to cover his yawns. Cigar smoke still curled toward the tin ceiling. Gaming chips still pinged. Three gamblers refused to give in or give up.
Still and all, it would be over soon.
Looking up from her mending, she meant to steal a glance at her “stepbrother,” but she locked gazes with one of the gamblers instead, and not for the first time this evening. The three were close enough that she could get a good look—he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen. As he had the other times, he nodded once. There was a puzzled, curious look to his fine features, certainly not the nasty-old-pervert leer that Dorinda had warned her to look out for.
She did like this man’s black-haired, blue-eyed looks. He wore the garb of a West Texan—a yoked shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons and denim britches that hugged him just right. His boots were the same kind that cowboys wore, only this ’poke’s weren’t scuffed or worn out. His clothes looked too clean, his hair and chin too smooth for a man of the land. He looked rich.
Patty moved her line of sight to her partner-in-crime, Chet Merkel. It was his turn to deal, and she could tell he was losing at five-card stud. They couldn’t afford for him to lose, not even for one evening, yet she prayed for his bad luck.
She knew what his next move would be. He’d barter her virginity. For the third time.
Twice before to two different men in two different towns.
Tonight it was Scarlet Garter Jenny’s Saloon. The “winner” would be a short, dark sheriff wearing a big, thick wedding ring. Or else the winner might be that curious fellow—the smooth-shaven pretty boy that the drunkards, gamblers, and preening waitresses called “counselor” and “mouthpiece,” with “Grant” or “Kincaid” thrown in from time to time. Well, the painted ladies usually said “Sugar.”
Neither of these men looked as gullible as the previous winners of her so-called prize.
Anyway, Patty knew how to get out of being the night’s reward. Did she even want to? Just looking at Grant Kincaid had her in a tizzy. One way or another, things would be different tonight. She was cutting all ties to her double-dealing snake of a “stepbrother,” Chet Merkel.
Definitely, she wouldn’t be rendezvousing with Chet later.
* * * *
Grant Kincaid spent many nights at the poker table. As a bachelor uninterested in ice-cream socials or musical recitals performed by the boring flowers of Lubbock society, he lacked choices beyond reading and visiting friends or relatives. Not that he had any local relatives, beyond the Kincaids of the High Hopes farm and ranch and their relatives, the Craigs. He hailed from the shoals of the Tennessee River in northwest Alabama. Besides, he enjoyed playing cards. After the last hand of an evening, he sometimes got lucky with one of the tarts, two if he was really lucky. He liked ’em ripe, filled out, and hotter than a thin-skinned jalapeño pepper
under the broiling Texas sun.
Tonight, he’d been leery of the tinhorn already at the Garter when Grant arrived for Thursday night poker. The odd-looking fellow, who’d shown up with an adolescent sister in tow, wanted to join the game between Grant and the general store proprietor, a local rancher, noted baker Mrs. Jewel Craig, and Sheriff Wes Alington, who played whenever his mother went visiting in San Angelo.
The last seat was occupied by a cotton-gin salesman from Dallas. Since the High Hopes Ranch showed that cotton could be successfully grown in West Texas, cotton had become a popular way to make money in the previous decade.
Tonight, the table cleared early with the less-than-dapper newcomer— he introduced himself as Chet Merkel—taking several hands. Jewel the baker bowed out first. Next went the general store man and the rancher. The cotton-gin representative took his leave after his third bad hand. That left Alington, Grant, and the tinhorn.
Luck started going Grant’s way, then the sheriff’s.
Always cool and quiet at the table, the compactly built lawman wore black and a shiny silver star, but never a sign of his wealth. His history with card playing didn’t reach far back. After he’d married a Valkyrie from the Hill Country, he’d taken up gaming. His mother had and would object to just about anything that might have “enjoyment” tacked to it, but the missus advised Alington just to do what he wanted, as long as he was smart enough to hide it from Mother Dear and it didn’t involve cavorting with other women. That was laughable. The sheriff had eyes only for his Lisa-Ann. Grant hoped when he found a wife that he could love her even half as much as Alington idolized the blonde from The Divide.
“Do you plan to answer my bet, Mr. Merkel?” Wes Alington pointed to the five green chips he’d slid to the center of the baize-covered table.
A bead of sweat popped on Merkel’s temple. Carelessly flicking cigar ashes on the floor, he cast a glance at his sister who sat primly in a straight chair in the corner, mending a garment that looked to be a shirt.
Grant eyed the girl, as he had several times. This dimple-cheeked young lady had long titian-hued hair held up in a big white bow. Dressed in the childish style of a sailor, she wore leggings that covered her slender calves, and her hems were short, befitting a little girl. He would bet every last chip in front of him that she wasn’t a day over sixteen.
She was too young to be candy to the senses. Most men of his age wanted to marry girls of sixteen or seventeen—often even younger, to pluck a cherry from the tree—but this man preferred women to girls, and he wasn’t angling for a wife.
That’s what he liked to tell himself. In truth, he yearned to find the ideal lady to fill the emptiness of his heart and home.
Martha Hix grew up in Texas and didn’t mind listening to stories about how her ancestors had been in the place for a long, long time. Well, in Texas that just meant more than a hundred years. This weird kid soaked up the stories and became an ardent student of family and general history, which came in handy when she took to writing both fiction and non-fiction. Eventually, her romance novels were translated into many foreign languages, some of them very foreign, like Japanese, Greek, and Turkish. On the home front, she lives in the fabulous Texas Hill Country with her husband and their spoiled four-legged kids. Visit her on the web at marthahix.com.
Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!
Sir Arthur's Legacy #5
by Sarah Hegger
Genre: Historical Romance
Pub Date: 8/29/2017
A light in the darkness . . .
The youngest son of Anglesea, the once idealistic Henry has survived the Holy Pilgrimage, but lost all his deeply held beliefs in honor and nobility. Captured in battle, he is sold as a slave into the home of Alif Al-Rasheed, a wealthy Genovese merchant who has converted to Islam. Bereft of faith, imprisoned in a foreign land, Henry has lost hope in his ability to love again—until he lays eyes on his captor’s beguiling daughter.
A marriage of opposites . . .
To Henry, Alya is a beacon of beauty he cannot ignore. But the heart of this proud daughter of Cairo will not be won so easily. Divided by religion, language, and culture, Ayla has little in common with the disillusioned Englishman—and yet he has vowed to protect her life in exchange for his freedom. As they embark on a perilous journey to safety, their bond will grow—and be tested—in ways neither can anticipate. For their greatest challenges will arise where Henry least expects. With threats conspiring to divide them, will he find the strength to stand by Ayla—and together will they find a common ground on which to build a future?
A mix of dust, goat, and spices of a hundred evening cook fires infused the air. Cumin, coriander, and cinnamon twined together and made English’s mouth water. Sunset splashed the sky above Cairo in burnt orange, growing brighter closer to the fiery ball sinking behind the soaring minaret. He tried to remember the name of that mosque, but his head didn’t work like it used to.
After herding a small flock of goats into their pens for the night, he ended his working day with the soft click of the latch.
From the city beyond the walls came the wail of a muezzin calling the faithful to prayer. “Allah is great; Allah is great.”
The inner courtyard emptied as people sought their prayer mats. “I bear witness that there is no divinity but Allah.”
English bore witness to no divinity, and he did not pray. At one time, in another land and to another god, he might have.
Drawn to the heat the stones gathered during the day, he pressed his aching back to the wall and waited.
Like him, she did not pray. The girl on the wall. He knew her name as Alya, had heard it called often enough, but to him she remained the girl on the wall.
Curtains fluttered at the open doorway on the roof balcony. Here she came. For certain, she remained unaware of him concealed in the deepening shadows and watching. To be caught with his eyes on her now would mean Bahir and his whip. Still he waited, would not move from this spot until he saw her.
There. A slim figure shrouded by her hijab.
The girl on the wall stopped at the parapet and faced the street. She pushed aside the hiqab, which concealed all but her eyes. Then, she lifted her hijab and shook her hair free. It spilled down her back as she raised her face in a silent blessing to the day that passed. Dying sunlight rushed to pay tribute to her loveliness. Her hair dark and lustrous as the wood of the wild cherry that grew in a thicket he had once walked, her skin like crushed almonds.
Not that he could see from this distance, but her eyes above her niqab were lighter than he would have expected. A mix of green and brown that he had only glimpsed in passing before she hastily lowered her head. He wouldn’t call her beautiful in the way of other women now hazy in his mind. Her chin held too firm a jut, her nose slightly hawk-like. The strong slash of her cheekbones bore testament to her mixed blood. She had a strong face, fascinating, and in her private moment on the rooftop her elemental fire drew him like a starving man to a feast. Her very essence called to that barely living part of him that remembered life in abundance. In her evening ritual, she discarded the modesty she showed during the day. She believed the rest of the household to be at prayer and in these forbidden moments before she would be called in, or admonished by the older woman who always accompanied her, English became a man again.
* * * *
“Come in, Alya.” Nasira beckoned from beyond the curtains. The old woman knew Alya well enough to end her prayers early and drag her back inside before anyone else saw her. Creases on Nasira’s craggy features meant another lecture on the way.
As Alya reached the point on the rooftop garden where her hoarse whisper could be heard Nasira started. “You show your face like a street woman.” Nasira shook her head. “What will people think when they see you like so?”
“Nobody sees me.” Alya pushed the gauzy curtains aside. A stiffening evening breeze sent them dancing around her. “I only do it when nobody else is about.”
“Somebody is always about.” Grabbing a brush, Nasira motioned for Alya to sit. “Especially now.”
“Why especially now?” Nasira’s tone gave Alya pause. She tried to turn and look at her.
Nasira rapped her on the head with her brush. “Stay still. Your father has called for you to attend him after prayers.”
“He did?” They always ate the evening meal together.
Huge frown creasing her brows, Nasira nodded. “There has been trouble, habibti. In the suq today.”
Trouble in the suq hardly deserved the look of doom Nasira’s face. Trouble blew perpetually through the suq. One merchant squabbled with another, buyers quibbled over prices, and the constant thieves threaded through the place like snakes, always looking for the chance to strike. “What happened?”
“I will let your father tell you, but it is bad. Bad.” Nasira lowered her head in obeisance. “Enna lillah wa enna elaihe Rajioun.”
“Did someone die?” Alya swung about on the stool, wincing as Nasira’s hold on her hair tugged at the roots.
“You ask too many questions.” Nasira grabbed her shoulders and turned her about again. “Your father will tell you all you need to know.”
Her nurse should know better than to think she would leave it there. “But someone did die?”
“Come.” Nasira bustled to her clothing and grabbed a fresh tunic. “I sent the boy for water, you must wash and attend your father.”
A new tunic meant the news her father bore was weighty. She washed and dressed quickly, flinging her veil over her shoulder as she trotted out of her chamber and down the stairs to the small, inner courtyard shaded on one end, where her father and she shared their evening meals. The table lay set for their meal but her father sat beside a small pond, staring into the water.
His skin was so darkened by the sun, a stranger could never tell he had not been born in this land, but had come from somewhere beyond the sea. “Alya.” Holding his hands out, he smiled and drew her forward for a
kiss on both cheeks. “Nasira tells me you have been on the roof again.” “The sunset was particularly beautiful today.” She could always get
around him with a bit of teasing. He smelled as he always did of silk and spices, and fruit tobacco from his hookah.
Tonight, he turned from her and went back to his study of the pool. “You need to be careful, Alya.”
“What happened in the suq?” Father dressed, ate, spoke, acted and even prayed as a son of this land, but he had raised her differently. Nasira warned his indulgence of her would come to no good, but Alya had always been encouraged to speak openly with her father.
“A merchant was killed.” Father trailed his fingers through the water. Flashes of light glimmered beneath the surface as fish darted away from him. “A foreign merchant. He was murdered.”
“Why?” Alya sank to the low stone lip of the pond. Her father acted not
as himself this evening. Dread prickled across her skin and sunk deep into her belly. “What are you not telling me?”
“The tension between the local merchants and the foreigners grows worse.” With a sigh, he sat beside her and rubbed the back of his neck. “And the Sultan does nothing to aid the foreigners. What, with the same battle taking place in his palace, his hands are tied.”
“You know why?” Father looked up at her. She had her eyes from him, a mix of green and brown that marked them clearly as not from here.
Alya nodded, she did know why. “The army of unbelievers.”
Even now, years after the Nile had risen and forced the invaders to flee, the distrust lingered.
“You must be more careful than ever.” Father captured her hand and squeezed. “Eyes are everywhere and looking for a way to discredit us.”
When dripped with venom from the wrong tongue, her simple act of freedom on the walls at sunset could take on the worst of connotations. She nodded. “I will be more careful.”
“Let us enjoy our dinner.” Father smiled but the worry lingered. “And then I must see Bahir.”
Born British and raised in South Africa, Sarah Hegger suffers from an incurable case of wanderlust. Her match? A Canadian engineer, whose marriage proposal she accepted six short weeks after they first met. Together they’ve made homes in seven different cities across three different continents (and back again once or twice). If only it made her multilingual, but the best she can manage is idiosyncratic English, fluent Afrikaans, conversant Russian, pigeon Portuguese, even worse Zulu and enough French to get herself into trouble. Mimicking her globetrotting adventures, Sarah’s career path began as a gainfully employed actress, drifted into public relations, settled a moment in advertising, and eventually took root in the fertile soil of her first love, writing. She also moonlights as a wife and mother. She currently lives in Colorado with her teenage daughters, two Golden Retrievers and aforementioned husband. Part footloose buccaneer, part quixotic observer of life, Sarah’s restless heart is most content when reading or writing books.
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The perfect summer escape…?
Professional dog-walker Felicity Knight loves everything about New York…until her ex-husband starts working at her local vet clinic. She hasn’t seen Seth Carlyle in ten years, but one glimpse of him – too gorgeous, and still too good for her – and Fliss’s heart hurts like their whirlwind marriage ended yesterday. So when her grandmother in The Hamptons needs help for the summer, it seems the perfect way to escape her past…
Their relationship might only have lasted a few scorching months, but vet Seth knows Fliss – if she’s run away to The Hamptons, it’s because she still feels their connection and it terrifies her. He let her go once before, when he didn’t know any better, but not this summer! With the help of his adorable dog Lulu, and a sprinkling of beachside magic, Seth is determined to make Fliss see that he’s never stopped loving her…
From Manhattan With Love is the one series this year that I have bought all the paperbacks for, addition to having the ebooks because I love the series so much that I wanted to have them visually present on my bookshelves, as keepsakes. I guess that is a true book-girl thing...
Why do I love the series - and Holiday in the Hamptons -so much?
The characters are real, they are like us, like the people we meet every day and spend our time with. They live in this fairytale, yet they have real problems, real issues, relationships that are challenging, and families that not only drive them mad but shaped them to be the people they are today.
The dialog is lively, it is sassy, and borderline bantering even when talking to and with their grandmom. And the dialog is refreshing, it is fun, and it is built such way that it keeps the plot flowing forward and the moment alive and vibrant, keeping the energy elevated in every scene.
Each story in the series has had me completely lost in the tale, right there with the characters, feeling and experiencing life with them. I love the closeness of the friends they have, the love and support for their siblings are admirable.
Felicity 'Fliss' Knight is a bit of a drama queen, she is a woman with big emotions. Fliss is the most loyal, protective, and loving to those she cares about, yet she is the master of hiding her feelings and running from the emotions that tumble inside of her heart and mind. Coming from a dysfunctional family, she is used to protecting her twin sister, she is used to standing in front of any threat towards her, might that be bullying, hurtful words, or painful emotions. At the same way, she has learned to protect herself and her feelings, hiding from the possible pain a rejection and dismissal might bring.
Seth Carlyle is the golden boy, the successful, friendly, kind, considerate, handsome vet of the town, that everyone admires. He is open, honest, and a loving man and recent loss had made him realize letting Fliss go ten years ago was the biggest mistake of his life. Determination and patience are Seth's strengths, and he is going to need them to convince Fliss that trusting him, opening up to him, and learning to love him are going to be a worth the risk of pain.
As much as this is a story of second chance romance, this is a story about families, the influence the growing up years has on us, and how it shapes us as people. There is always more going on behind the closed doors than anyone outside can know, there is no such thing as a perfect family. Yet the love and caring are there, the loyalty, and protectiveness is strong. Fliss has a lot to learn from the broken family of hers and she has much more to offer to people around her that she might give herself a credit for. Holiday in the Hamptons is a story about learning to trust, to be open, to share the deep, dark, scary thoughts and emotions that most would rather run away from. It is a story about learning to be vulnerable and exposed to loved ones to make the relationship work and last a lifetime.
While this was a fun, entertaining, and witty story of love, trust, and families, it also has life lessons embedded in it that made me take a notice. A cleaver, smoothly flowing, humorous, and delightful tale to continue the brilliant series
~ Four Spoons with a teaspoon on the side
Their future was set. He was going to be a firefighter, and she was going to be a filmmaker. They were going to get married and live happily-ever-after with two kids and a dog…She supposed one out five ain’t bad.
Mackenzie Sutton was an award-winning documentary filmmaker who had put her past where it belonged, behind her. But when her old flame’s hometown becomes the setting for her new project, she’s forced to remember what she wanted with all her heart but never got to have.
Eli Bishop achieved his goal and became a firefighter. And although the sexy hero risks his life daily, in reality, he has nothing to lose since he lost her all those years ago.
With fate giving them a second chance, both Mackenzie and Eli will be forced to relive the past if there is any hope of them having a future in…Fire and Love.
Stand-alone Hope Falls romance, complete with HEA--and plenty of heat and heart along the way! For 18+
Returning to Hope Falls sort of feels like coming home, so many memories there with people you have grown to care about. And it was nice to run into couple characters from the original cast, I swear I had this smug smile on my face while reading about the book club 'I knew them way before...'. Hah.
Eli Bishop and Mackenzie Sutton have that special bond of a teenage first love. But the love they experienced at the young age wasn't puppy love, it was one of those rare occasions where the young feelings take a deep root, where the intentions are sincere and the desire to build a future together is real. But life happens and they are torn apart without a word of explanation or a goodbye.
Eli, the kind and considerate firefighter, who is always willing and able to extend a helping hand, who cares and take care of people around him, is genuinely a nice guy. He has that boy next door vibes, he adores his mom and has a great relationship with his parents. He would do anything to protect his family and is not afraid to stand up for bullies. His feelings for Mackenzie are bottomless, passionate, and true. He knows what he lost a long ago when he walked away from her and is now willing to do the hard things, to have the difficult conversations, to be vulnerable and open to get her back, if only she would give him a chance for that.
Mackenzie Sutton had her heart broken by Eli when he walked away without a word of explanation. She has done her best to built her life, to fulfill her dreams and goals, yet the yearning for more, the longing for Eli, and missing what they had has always been at the back of her mind. Mackenzie knows her feelings for Eli will always be there and can be ignited to a blazing inferno by one touch. To enjoy the physical connection and flame between them is one thing, to be open and talk about the past, the hurt and pain Eli cost her and the reasons for it is too dangerous for her peace of mind.
The dance between Eli and Mackenzie and their flaming feelings is a beautiful, emotional, and adorable thing to witness. The palpable heartache, the tangible passion, the earnest feelings, adoration, and admiration they have for each other string all the feels of the reader, causing smiles and sighs throughout the tale.
Fire and Love is a charming tale of first love, the kind of love that last a lifetime and no distance or disruption can dim its force or its fierceness. It is a story about a delicate second chance with love, a delightful new chance with the alluring fire burning in Eli and Kenzie for each other. It is a wonderful, smoothly flowing romance story that hits all the feels as it unfolds.
~ Four Spoons with a teaspoon on the side
Pretend You're Safe
by Alexandra Ivy
Genre: Romantic Suspense
He Sees You
First came the floods. Then came the bodies. The victims—strangled, then buried along the shores of the Mississippi—have finally been unearthed, years after they disappeared. He remembers every satisfying kill . . . each woman’s terror and agony. But there’s only one he truly wanted. And fate has brought her within reach again . . .
He Knows You
Jaci Patterson was sixteen when she found the first golden locket on her porch. Inside were a few strands of hair wrapped around a scrap of bloodstained ribbon. Though the “gifts” kept arriving, no one believed her hunch that a serial killer was at work. Now Jaci has returned home . . . and the nightmare is starting once more.
And He’ll Never Let You Go
Back then, Rylan Cooper was an arrogant deputy sheriff convinced that Jaci was just an attention-seeking teen. It was a fatal mistake. There’s a murderer in their midst, someone determined to settle old scores and keep playing a twisted game. And it won’t end until Jaci is his forever . . .
“Alexandra Ivy gives readers a nice balance of romance and suspense in her fast-paced, well-plotted novel.” --Kat Martin, New York Times bestselling author
On some level Jaci knew that Elmer was keeping up a running conversation, but it was impossible to make out the words over the buzzing in her head. And thankfully the older man didn’t seem to expect a response as he coaxed her to drink the overly sweet coffee and eat one of the muffins she’d baked earlier that morning.
God, it seemed a lifetime ago.
Since then, a dead body had been found floating in a field. And a skull. The sheriff had dismissed her fears as if she was a whackadoodle. She’d endured a meeting with her mother. And her mysterious stalker had made a return, leaving one of his creepy lockets for her to find.
She didn’t know which was worse.
As she finished the muffin, however, the sugar kicked in and her shock began to ease. At least enough to be aware of the sound of the back door closing and Rylan moving to stand next to the sofa.
Tilting her head, she felt the familiar jolt of awareness.
The same awareness she’d felt when she’d returned home to see Rylan standing in her front yard. And again when she’d opened her eyes minutes ago to find him bending over her, his expression tight with concern.
Heck, she’d been aware of this man since she first understood the difference between boys and girls.
From a very young age, Rylan had been stunningly handsome. His features were finely chiseled, with a proud, aquiline nose and wide brow. His eyes had always been a fascinating shade of gold, but they were emphasized since his move to California, where his skin had been tanned to a rich bronze and his hair had been bleached to a light blond.
He also had the sort of body that made a woman itch to run her hands over every inch of his hard, perfectly sculpted muscles.
But it was his raw, male power that captured and held her attention. He had a potent energy that could fill a room and stir a woman’s deepest fantasy.
It was really no surprise she’d been plagued by a desperate puppy love for her gorgeous neighbor. Even when he’d made it painfully clear that he wasn’t, and never would be interested in her as more than a friend.
She was a young woman in a town where gorgeous men were few and far between. The only surprise would be if she hadn’t been obsessed with Rylan Cooper.
Now she grimly squashed her predictable response to his presence as she glanced toward the window. She could hear people moving around her porch, but she couldn’t see anyone.
“Where’s Mike?” she demanded.
Rylan’s gaze moved to the tray she’d set on the low coffee table, as if assessing whether or not he was satisfied with how much she’d managed to eat.
“He’s doling out duties to his deputies,” he at last said. “He’ll be in once he’s done.”
She frowned in confusion. “What duties?”
“Dusting for prints and taking pictures.”
“I asked Ed to photograph your driveway as well as the yard for any footprints,” Mike explained as he entered the living room, clearly having used the back door. “It’s a long shot, but it’s better than nothing.”
“Mike.” She managed a shaky smile as she watched her friend move across the room, taking a seat on the sofa next to her.
“Hey, Jaci.” He removed his hat, then reached to take her hand so he could give it a tight squeeze. “I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you earlier.”
She wrinkled her nose. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“It does, but we’ll discuss it later,” he said. Mike was the sort of person who was always harder on himself than anyone else. He glanced toward the looming Rylan. “We’ll need some privacy.”
Rylan frowned, clearly not happy. “Why?”
Elmer moved to grab his son’s arm. “Come on, Ry.” Rylan dug in his heels. “No.”
Mike narrowed his gaze. “Is there a problem?”
“Yeah,” Rylan said, his jaw tight. “Jaci just suffered a severe shock. I’m not leaving her here alone.”
Mike scowled. “She’s not alone.”
With a firm tug, Elmer was urging his son out of the room. “We’ll be in the kitchen.”
Mike watched them leave before he turned his attention back to Jaci.
“Is there something I should know?”
She gave a slow shake of her head. Rylan had always been the sort of guy who stuck up for the underdog. He’d punched the local bully, Joey Burke, in the nose for picking on the younger boys. And risked his neck to save a baby duck that was trapped in an abandoned well.
Was he feeling some need to be her protector because she’d fainted?
Or was it a symptom of his guilt because he hadn’t believed her when she’d asked for his help all those years ago?
“I think the world’s gone insane,” she said.
“Me too,” Mike agreed. He sounded like his day had been almost as crappy as Jaci’s. Quite a feat. “Now tell me about the locket.”
Jaci gave an abbreviated version of her return home to find the necklace hanging on her doorknob.
She didn’t need to share her breathless reaction when she’d first caught sight of Rylan. Or her awkward haste to get rid of him, which explained why she hadn’t noticed the locket until she was just inches from the door.
Mike nodded, reaching beneath his jacket to pull out a small notebook and pencil that he’d no doubt bought at the local dollar store. In this area, cops had a limited budget. They had to trim costs whenever possible.
“Did you notice anyone when you were driving home?” Assuming he meant after she’d turned onto the gravel road that ran in front of her house, she gave a shake of her head.
“No.” She stiffened as she recalled the SUV. “Oh.”
“I thought I saw Blake, but I can’t imagine what he’d be doing out here.” She shrugged. “Besides, I spoke to Mother when I was in Baldwin and she mentioned he was flying back from St. Louis later tonight.”
A strange expression settled on his blunt features. “What about Christopher?”
“What about him?”
“Did you see him today?”
She stared at him in confusion. “I haven’t seen my half brother for almost two years, although I heard he’s back home,” she said.
Mike didn’t bother to write anything in his notebook. Instead he abruptly changed the direction of his questions.
“Is there anyone you can think of who would want to scare you?”
It was a question that had haunted her for years. “No.”
“Any enemies?” He held up a hand as her lips parted. “Even if you don’t think they would leave the locket?”
“You’re sure?” he pressed. “You’re a beautiful woman with a growing business. That can make people jealous. Especially if they think your success has come at their expense.”
She forced herself to consider his words.
It was true that there had been a few local ladies who had their noses out of joint at the high demand for her pastries. And there had been at least two farmers who’d tried to pressure her into selling her grandfather’s land after his death.
But they certainly weren’t her enemies.
Well, not unless she counted her half sister, Payton. But she couldn’t make herself believe the younger woman would sneak around to try and terrify her. She far preferred being a bitch in public.
“I really can’t think of anyone,” Jaci insisted.
Mike tapped his pencil on the notebook. “There haven’t been any other threats?”
“What do you mean?”
“Strange phone calls? Letters? E-mails?”
She frowned with impatience. Why was he wasting time?
“Mike, we both know this isn’t about some neighbor who’s pissed off about me baking muffins or selling crafts in my garage. The locket has something to do with that body you found this morning.”
His lips flattened. “I don’t want to leap to conclusions.” She flinched, disappointment slicing through her. How many times did she have to go through this?
First the fear. The knowledge some sicko was out there playing with her emotions. Then the pain at the realization that no one believed her.
She started to stand, only to be halted when Mike placed a restraining hand on her shoulder.
“Jaci, I’m trying to protect you,” he growled. “Something I can’t do if I don’t keep an open mind and investigate every potential threat.”
There was a sincerity etched on his face that made her heave a small sigh.
“I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. She felt chilled to the bone. “I just can’t believe this is starting again.”
His hand lightly glided over her shoulder and down her arm. “You know you can stay with me until we figure this out.”
It was tempting. Not only because she was a little itchy at the thought of remaining in such an isolated spot on her own. But because no lunatic would dare to try and get to her while she was in the protective custody of the sheriff.
Only the knowledge that she couldn’t hide in Mike’s house forever made her stiffen her backbone.
She had a life. And this was her home.
She wasn’t going to let the mysterious jerk steal either of them from her.
Alexandra Ivy is the New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of romantic suspense, paranormal and erotic romance. She has also written Regency historicals under the name Deborah Raleigh. A five-time RT Book Award Finalist, Ivy has received much acclaim for her Guardians of Eternity, ARES Security, Immortal Rogues and Sentinels series. She lives with her family in Missouri and can be found online at AlexandraIvy.com.
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Duty and danger bring an alpha hero to Mystery, Montana
Waylon Fitzgerald had a life of adventure all planned out--one that did not include returning to his family's ranch to bring his missing ex-wife into custody for murder. With so much bad blood between them, the sexy military police officer understands why his ex's sister, Christina Bell, hates him. And yet he and Christina spark a sizzling attraction.
What changes everything for Waylon is Winnie, Christina's adorable ward...and the startling revelation that he's her father. When she goes missing--her mother a killer at large--Waylon's world is upended. Will he redeploy to follow his passions around the world...or stay where his heart has found an unexpected Christmas present?
Mr. Serious takes us back to Mystery, Montana where the murder investigations take a new turn, as Waylon Fitzgerald come home to help his brother to find his ex-wife who is the suspect in the murders of two women.
I liked Waylon, he made it easy to relate to him and admire him with his sensible look of life, his kindness and humbleness were outstanding. He is a take-charge kind of man, yet he can follow the rules and take direction. He's flexible and protective, he has a good sense of humor and a soft spot in his heart for Winnie from the first time he laid his eyes on her. He is a talented investigator, knows what he is doing, and gets results fast. His tangible love and respect for his family are admirable, the banter between the brothers is entertaining and fun.
Christina Bell has made a home on her sister's ex-husband's parent's ranch. She is the caretaker of little Winnie after Winnie's mother, who is also Christina's sister, goes missing. Even though Christina knows about the instability of her sister, she has taken her sister's stories about Waylon as the truth and judged him by those words before meeting him. Christina seems to leap before looking when it comes to most matters. She has a quick temper, and with the stress and fear in the air, it flairs. She keeps people at the arm's length, a lesson she learned well in her childhood home. And maybe that's the reason why I had such a hard time connecting with her.
Christina jumps right in to help Waylon and Wyatt with the investigation and while working together the sparks ignite between Christina and Waylon. Yes, it is like a daytime show with all the family relations getting mixed in, but the characters were aware of the drama as well. The secret the whole family has been keeping from Waylon is unacceptable, yet he seems to get over it fast. I don't understand the reasoning behind keeping the information from him, but I was in the minority since Waylon found the understanding and forgiveness in his heart rapidly.
The investigation has its intriguing twists, the tension escalating through the story keeping the suspense high.
The relationship between Christina and Waylon moves swiftly from dislike to admiration to attraction as the deeper feelings take root. But the road ahead of them will not be an easy one, and Christina is not convinced there could be a chance of future together for them.
I would recommend reading the book one in the series, Ms. Calculation, first. This story continues the suspense around the murder and mayhem happening in Mystery, Montana even though the couple trying to find their way to each other and a future together is a new one.
Adrent yet sweet love story on the side of tension riddled family secrets, murders, kidnappings, and burglaries moves the plot forward with a rapid space while the tension escalates, and loyalties are tested. A fascinating small town crime spree that takes unexpected turns and leaves the reader anticipating for more to come in the series
~ Four Spoons
Danica Winters is an Amazon bestselling author who has won multiple awards for writing books that grip readers with their ability to drive emotion through suspense and occasionally a touch of magic. Most recently, Danica was the winner of the Paranormal Romance Guild’s Paranormal Romantic Suspense Book of the Year Award and Chanticleer Media’s Paranormal Book of the Year for her novel Montana Mustangs.
When she’s not working, she can be found in the wilds of Montana testing her patience while she tries to understand the allure of various crafts (quilting, pottery, and painting are not her thing). She always believes the cup is neither half full nor half empty, but it better be filled with wine.
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