I am a Christian, a retired teacher, a mother and a grandmother. I love to read and I love the Lord Jesus Christ! Unless otherwise specified ,all visual illustrations are from the YOU VERSION APP of the Bible.
Mostly clean read with some intense scenes and some violence
This was a very fast-paced read with action that was almost non-stop. From the first page when Deputy Kaitlyn Lanz responds to a car crash outside the Delaney compound, the action and the interaction between the main characters begins. Nick Delaney is a multi-millionaire (by birth) and should be haughty and arrogant and unapproachable. However, he is none of those things. When his friend Lexi is critically injured trying to come to him to escape ruthless villains, he volunteers to take care of her tiny infant Rosie and vows to do all that he has to do to protect her. With car chases, ambulance rides, gate-crashing weapons teams and various other heart-stopping action scenes, this book is not your typical laid-back Christmas romance. The suspense was thrilling and the developing relationship between Kaitlyn and Nick was subtle and mostly hidden for most of the book. I thoroughly enjoyed how invested both of them were in protecting Rosie and in finding Lexi’s secret and turning it over to the authorities. There were multiple surprises in the book that definitely kept me glued to the pages. I highly recommend this book to those who like a lot of suspense and a little bit of Christmas thrown in. Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from Harlequin via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
Available on December 15, 2020! You can pre-order today. Purchase Links:
Award winning, multipublished author Terri Reed discovered the wonderful world of fiction at an early age and declared she would one day write a book. Now she’s fulfilling that dream by writing for Love Inspired. She is a member of both Romance Writers of America and American Christian Fiction Writers. You can visit her online at http://www.terrireed.com or email her at terrireed@sterling.net or leave comments on http://craftieladiesofromance.blogspot.com/ or http://www.loveinspiredauthors.com
This is a lovely story about a young woman who needs to learn to trust again and the sheriff in a small town who helps her along the way. Tess Harper lives alone with her toddler daughter who has Down’s Sydrome. Being the parent of a special needs daughter is a challenge, but being alone in that frightening world is even more so. The author expresses perfectly how fiercely protective Tess is of her daughter and of her heart. When Sheriff Anson Curry enters their lives, it’s like exploding stars. Little Hannah just eats up his love and attention and Tess is gradually swayed to begin trusting him. I thoroughly enjoyed this Christmas story of love and acceptance, even in the midst of great trials. The author did an amazing job of characterization and her plot moved along at exactly the right pace to keep me engaged. The events evoked tears, anger, happiness…all the expected moods for a romance with just the right dab of conflict. Fans of Christmas romances will love this book, especially the portrayal of a little girl looking for her perfect circle. Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
I would rate this book PG-13 because it does have extramarital sex included, although the salient details are not there. Author Bio: Makenna Lee is an award-winning romance author living in the Texas Hill Country with her real-life hero and their two children. Her oldest son has Down syndrome and taught her to appreciate the little things, and he inspired one of her novels. As a child, she played in the woods, looked for fairies under toadstools, and daydreamed. Her writing journey began when she mentioned all her story ideas, and her husband asked why she wasn’t writing them down. The next day she bought a laptop, started her first book, and knew she’d found her passion. Now, Makenna is often drinking coffee while writing, reading, or plotting a new story. Her wish is to write books that touch your heart, making you feel, think, and dream. She enjoys renaissance festivals, nature photography, studying herbal medicine, and usually listens to Celtic music while writing. She writes for Harlequin and Entangled Publishing and believes everyone deserves a happy ending.
First, a warning…you can’t read this book without a few tears, or at least I couldn’t. The puppy mills portrayed were so very sad, but not as heart-wrenching to me as the situation that Constance and Rhett are in. Constance is trying to work through the emotional problems caused by a devastating loss and the resulting depression. Rhett owns a gym called Semper Fit (clever name) in which he pours all of his frustrations from PTSD into intense, extreme exercise routines. Both main characters find out that you cannot run from your problems, and since this is a romance, they both eventually find solace in each other. The getting there to understanding that they are better together is told masterfully in this wonderfully written romance. There is lots of emotion between the humans in the story as they interact with each other, and there are also plenty of emotional scenes between humans and dogs. My heart went out to the dogs being rescued by Constance’s sister Sunny. Those scenes were so realistic that I wanted to jump into the page and help the pups myself. Since both of the main characters are injured in their hearts and their heads, it may take a dog to actually rescue them…the best part of the story was finding each other! Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
Rated PG-13 because of contentElysia Whisler was raised in Texas, Italy, Alaska, Mississippi, Nebraska, Hawai’i and Virginia, in true military fashion. Her nomadic life has made storytelling a compulsion from a young age. She doubles as a mother, a massage therapist and a CrossFit trainer and is dedicated to portraying strong women, both in life and in her works. She lives in Virginia with her family, including her large brood of cat and dog rescues, who vastly outnumber the humans.
One Constance slammed on her brakes. Steam rose from the street as rain gurgled through the ditches. She killed the engine, stepped into the pattering droplets and scanned the shoulder of the road. Nothing there but the remains of a goose carcass. “Where are you, boy?” Constance gave a low whistle. It hadn’t been her imagination. The picked-over goose only made her more certain she’d seen a dog, weaving through the foggy afternoon air like a phantom. A lost dog, with his head bent against the rain as he loped along the muddy ditch. Constance whistled again. Silence, but for the sound of rain hitting the trees that lined the road. “Maybe I’m just tired.” She’d done a lot of massages today, which made her feel wrung out. Constance almost ducked back into the van, but halted. There he was: a white face with brown patches, peeking at her from behind a bush. “Hey, boy.” Constance squatted down, making herself smaller, less threatening. The dog watched, motionless. Constance drew a biscuit from her coat, briefly recalling the cashier’s amusement at the grocery store today when she’d emptied her pockets on the counter, searching for her keys. Five dog biscuits had been in the pile with her phone, a used tissue and the grocery list. “Dog mom, huh?” the elderly cashier had said. “Something like that.” More like dog aunt, to all of the rescues at Pittie Place. Her sister, Sunny, had quite the brood. Constance laid the biscuit near her foot and waited. A moment later, the bush rustled and the dog approached. He had short hair and big shoulders. He got only as close as he needed to, then stretched his neck out for the prize. As he gingerly took the biscuit, Constance noted a droopy abdomen and swollen nipples, like a miniature cow. So. He was a she. Constance inched toward her. The dog held on to the biscuit, but reared back. Constance extended her fist, slowly, so the mom could smell her. “You got puppies somewhere?” The dog whimpered, but crunched up the biscuit. “Where are your puppies?” The dog whimpered again. Her legs shook. Her fur was muddy, feet caked with dirt. She had blood on her muzzle— probably from the dead goose. By her size and coloring, Constance decided she was a pit bull. Constance rose up, patted her thigh and headed toward her van. She slid open the side door, grabbed a blanket and spread it out, but when she turned around, the dog was several yards away. Her brown-and-white head was low as she wandered beneath a streetlamp, the embodiment of despair in the drizzle that danced through the light. Constance followed, slipping on the leaves that clogged the drainage ditch. The dog glanced once over her shoulder, but her pace didn’t quicken. Constance decided her calm demeanor was working, keeping the dog from fleeing. And let’s be honest: the biscuit hadn’t hurt. Chances were, the dog would be happy to have more as soon as she got wherever she was going. “Let’s see where you’re headed, then. Show me if you’ve got a home.” Constance followed her across the road, around the curve and down the narrow lane. Frogs popped like happy corn all over the slick street, but the chill of the oncoming winter slithered through Constance’s blood. She followed the dog for a good quarter mile. Even before she hooked a left down the unpaved road hidden behind the trees, Constance had figured out that the mama was headed to one of the handful of empty places that sat decomposing on the hundred or so acres the Matteri family owned. Constance paused only long enough to squelch the sizzle of anger that bubbled up inside before she pressed on, determined to know if the dog was a stray or a neglected mother from Janice Matteri’s puppy mill. Constance took the same turn and watched as the dog neared the abandoned house up ahead. Nobody had lived there in years. It was only a matter of time before it became condemned. The dog bypassed the crumbling porch of the old colonial and went around back. Constance knew little daylight was left, and she hadn’t brought a flashlight. She broke into a trot, clutched her coat tighter around her and didn’t slow until the dog came back into view. Constance followed her, her heart thumping harder with each step. The dog passed the rusted chain-link fence and disappeared over a rise in the property, near an old shed so overgrown with trees it was only recognizable by a pale red door. Just as she reached the hill, Constance heard a squeak. The sort of high-pitched noise that echoes from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Another squeak came. And another. She crested the hill and saw the dog slink inside the shed door. Constance got to the shed and pushed inside. The dog had reached her destination: a battered old mattress, three shades of brown, lying a few feet inside. The mewls, now loud and hungry, came from a shredded section of the mattress. Constance narrowed her eyes. At first, she counted only two bobbing, brown heads, but as she drew closer there was a third. Then a fourth. The last one didn’t move nearly as much, just sort of waded on his stomach. The puppies had cocoa-colored fur and black muzzles. Eyes open. The ones that moved didn’t really walk, just stumbled into each other, like drunks. Mama dog curled around them and they all wiggled toward her abdomen. Constance knelt down next to the mattress and watched the suckling puppies. She decided they were about two weeks old. The air in the shed smelled of sour milk, poop and urine. She dug out another biscuit and reached, slowly, her hand in a fist to protect her fingers, her gaze on the mama for any sign she was upset, such as pinned ears, bared teeth or a raised ridge of fur down the back. The energy around the mom and her pups was calm, to the point of exhausted. Constance had certainly helped with enough of Sunny’s dogs over the years to know. She offered the biscuit and the mom took it. With her mouth busy, Constance carefully touched the smallest puppy, who shook so hard the tremble came from deep inside, beneath his skin and fur, straight from his bones. Constance rose slowly and did a quick search of the vicinity for more puppies, which turned up nothing but trash, vermin and an old orange crate, which she brought over to the mattress. Now to see if Mom was going to accept help. Though daylight was precious, Constance waited until the pups were done suckling before she offered a third treat. “Let’s go back to my place,” Constance said as Mom accepted the biscuit. “My sister has a rescue for critters, just like you. And I help her all the time. You’ll be safe there. Does that sound okay?” While Mama crunched, Constance reached for the two pups closest to her and, keeping an eye on Mom the whole time, she lifted them and settled them in the crate. Mom’s chewing quickened, so Constance acted fast, lifting the last two pups swiftly but carefully. She rose to her feet, crate in her arms. The mother dog was on her feet almost ahead of her, pointing her muzzle at the crate and whining. Constance knew the mom would follow her anywhere she took those pups, but she also lacked any signs of aggression, almost as though she knew that this was their only chance. Or as Pete, owner of Canine Warriors and Constance’s longtime childhood friend, would put it, “You just got something about you, Cici. Everybody trusts you. People. Dogs. The damn Devil himself.” Constance headed back to her van, chasing the sunset. As expected, the mother followed. Once to the vehicle, Constance opened the van and set the crate full of pups next to the blanket she’d spread out earlier. The mama dog leaped in after them. Constance slid the door closed, settled behind the steering wheel and let out a great sigh. Mission accomplished. She edged down the long, lonely road. The rain pattered on the windshield and the scent of dirty puppies hit her nose. She’d take them home tonight and get them settled in, see how they reacted to a new environment, then text Sunny in the morning. Constance had worked with enough dogs, and people, to know that introducing another new person this evening was bad news. Let Mama get used to Constance first, and get some good food and rest, before she was moved to Pittie Place. Tonight, at least, this girl and her babies belonged with Constance.
Although this is the fourth book in the series, I read it as a standalone and understood the plot and was able to catch up quickly on who the characters were and the roles that they played. Taking place both in the U.S. and Canada, the basic tale is one of a RCMP detective, Liam Bearsmith, who had fallen in love with a witness in protection two decades previously and now sees her, follows her and the action really begins. It seems that Kelly and Liam have a daughter named Hannah who is married to a computer hacker names Renner. The plot got very unbelievable at times, with a gang called the Imposters determined to capture Renner and get a master key that he had discovered. The cutest character, by far, was the infant named Pip who is Hannah and Renner’s daughter, and thus Liam’s granddaughter whom he has just met. There are numerous other characters, members of Liam’s team, who jump into action to assist him. Again, many of the scenes during rescues and hostage-taking were far-fetched, but they were still entertaining. It was a fast-paced Christian romantic suspense with plenty of action to go along with the tons of characters. I I didn’t even try to keep the characters straight; I just kept reading to find out the ending. I knew that it would all be okay, but I didn’t know how that was going to be possible since one character would get out of trouble and another would fall into a trap. I liked the settings, rural and very Canadian wilderness like. Fans of clean romantic suspense who enjoy constant action will enjoy this book. Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from Harlequin via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
This is a completely clean romantic suspense.About the author: Maggie K. Black is an award-winning journalist and self-defense instructor. She’s lived in the United States, Europe and Middle East, and left a piece of her heart in each. She now makes her home in Canada where she writes stories that make her heart race.
Excerpt, CHRISTMAS WITNESS CONSPIRACY by Maggie K. Black
He turned and walked toward the restaurant, so quickly and firmly she couldn’t have grabbed his hand again if she’d wanted to. She followed him up the stairs and across the deck—the empty deck with its picnic tables inches deep in snow. He reached for the door, found it unlocked and pushed it open. They stepped into the restaurant. It was empty and dark. Chairs were stacked upside down on empty tables. As the door clicked shut behind them, a young man in a thick beard stepped out from behind it and pressed the barrel of a gun to the side of Liam’s head. “Down on your knees.” The voice was low and mean. His face was lost in shadows and the click of the gun was unmistakable. “You’re about to learn what happens to someone who tries to lie to Bill Leckie, and it ain’t going to be pretty.” “You tell Bill, I didn’t cross him,” Liam said calmly, raising his hands, “and I await his apology when he figures that out. Now, tell me, what exactly does Bill think I’ve done?” Then, before the man could even formulate an answer, Liam struck, apparently more interested in distracting his attacker long enough to get the upper hand than hearing what he had to say. Kelly watched as Liam spun toward the gun-wielding man, grabbing the weapon before he could even fire and slamming him into the wall. She felt a gust of wind and heard the door slam and click shut again. She blinked. Liam had disarmed his attacker, thrown him out and locked the door behind him, without even breaking a sweat. Then she felt Liam’s strong hand on her shoulder, guiding her and the still-sleeping baby underneath a table, sheltering them with his body. “Stay here,” Liam whispered, his voice urgent. His face was just inches from hers. Worry flooded his eyes. “It’s an ambush. That guy won’t be alone and just because I was able to catch him off guard doesn’t mean the others won’t put up more of a fight.” Not to mention the guy he just locked outside would be trying to get back in, no doubt. “There are other doors to this place, but we’d have to go through the kitchen or down the hallway, both of which are risky. This is an easier place to defend. Whatever Bill thinks I’ve done, he won’t want his goons hurting you or the baby. He’s got way too much honor than to allow a woman or child to get hurt on his watch, and has probably already told his attack dogs to leave you alone. I’m the one they’re after. I’ll get you out of here. Just promise me, if you get a clear path to escape, just take Pip and go, okay? Don’t wait for me and don’t look back.” Before she could answer, his hand slid to the side of her face. His lips brushed over her forehead. Then he rolled back out into the room and leaped to his feet, knocking a table in front of Kelly and Pip’s hiding space as he did so, further shielding and protecting them. “Like I told Bill, I have a woman and baby with me!” he shouted to the seemingly empty room. He tucked the gun he’d lifted into his belt. “If you’re Bill’s men you’ll know full well that hurting innocent women and children is against his code. Whatever his problem is, it’s with me, not them. And no weapon fire, please. The kid’s asleep and Bill won’t want you making things loud and scaring her awake.” He sounded so calm and in control, as if he was the only person there who really understood what was going on. Kelly slid Pip’s car seat into the corner against the wall, sheltering it with her body and praying God get back in, no doubt. “There are other doors to this place, but we’d have to go through the kitchen or down the hallway, both of which are risky. This is an easier place to defend. Whatever Bill thinks I’ve done, he won’t want his goons hurting you or the baby. He’s got way too much honor than to allow a woman or child to get hurt on his watch, and has probably already told his attack dogs to leave you alone. I’m the one they’re after. I’ll get you out of here. Just promise me, if you get a clear path to escape, just take Pip and go, okay? Don’t wait for me and don’t look back.” Before she could answer, his hand slid to the side of her face. His lips brushed over her forehead. Then he rolled back out into the room and leaped to his feet, knocking a table in front of Kelly and Pip’s hiding space as he did so, further shielding and protecting them. “Like I told Bill, I have a woman and baby with me!” he shouted to the seemingly empty room. He tucked the gun he’d lifted into his belt. “If you’re Bill’s men you’ll know full well that hurting innocent women and children is against his code. Whatever his problem is, it’s with me, not them. And no weapon fire, please. The kid’s asleep and Bill won’t want you making things loud and scaring her awake.” He sounded so calm and in control, as if he was the only person there who really understood what was going on. Kelly slid Pip’s car seat into the corner against the wall, sheltering it with her body and praying God would protect Pip from realizing they were in danger. Then Kelly crouched up onto the balls of her feet and looked out through gaps in the chairs and fallen table that barricaded her from view. As she watched, two more men, of varying heights, wearing plaid jackets and with full-length beards, stepped out of the shadows. Liam had been so convinced that Bill would protect them and he’d been wrong. Lord, please keep us safe. She watched as Liam raised his badge high. “I’m Liam Bearsmith!” he shouted at the approaching men. “RCMP. Stand down! Now! Or I’ll arrest you for assaulting an officer.”
A romance packed in with a lot of drama, this book was a fun, entertaining and fast-paced read. Mara Reed has moved to Starlight, escaping Seattle and her ex-husband with all of the bad memories that the divorce brought. Not least of the bad memories was Paul’s divorce attorney, the very gifted Parker Johnson, who absolutely destroyed Mara’s reputation and left her with little in the way of finances in order to support her small daughter Evie. Parker is in town to help his brother build businesses and meet a deadline. While there, he also helps his brother Josh in coaching a young soccer team which includes Evie. The romance is inevitable but how Mara and Parker get there is a magical mix of author insight and just plain good writing. The tale weaves around the two soon-to-be lovebirds, but it also includes Josh and his plight as a single father and little Evie who is so damaged her cruel father who basically ignored and disparaged her. I enjoyed the characterization the most in this story as well as the cute setting of a small town in which everyone knows everyone and also all about the relationships happening at any one moment. I especially enjoyed how Mara was willing to help Josh and build her own self-confidence after Paul’s unending attacks on it. Finally, I liked that Parker was willing to self-reflect about his part in Mara’s discouragement and lack of trust of males. All in all, this was a quick and excellent romance that I highly recommend. Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
Because this book includes extra-marital sexual relationships, I would rate the book a definite PG-13.
Author bio: Michelle Major grew up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. Soon after graduating with a degree in Journalism, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Her life and house are filled with one great husband, two beautiful kids, a few furry pets and several well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion writing stories with happy endings. Michelle loves to hear from her readers at http://www.michellemajor.com.
This is a very quick and entertaining book! The premise is that a former newscaster from LA is in witness protection, and the U.S. Marshalls hide her with an Amish family. Dressing like the Amish is not a big problem for Leah, but learning the Amish way of life was a bit of a challenge. Much of the book reads like a primer about the Amish lifestyle and religious beliefs and I found it all very interesting. The characters were believable and likable as well as presented realistically for that culture. My favorite character was a young woman named Rachel who had physical problems but who tackled life with zest and wisdom. The plot also includes drama, conflict and a romantic interest between Leah and a young Amish man named Isaac who is devoted to his faith. Both of them know that for her to have a relationship with him would be almost impossible since she is “Englisch” and he tried that world and returned to his Amish life. I really enjoyed the descriptions of how the Amish do things like laundry and healthcare, things that we take modern conveniences for granted. I learned more about reading this book than I thought possible and was entertained as I read it. Fans of light, clean romance will enjoy this book and the light that it sheds on a group of people who live a different kind of life. Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from Harlequin via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
Good, CLEAN read with an unbelievable but entertaining premise
About PATRICE LEWIS:
Living on a remote self-sufficient homestead in North Idaho, Patrice Lewis is a Christian wife, mother, author, blogger, columnist and speaker. She has practiced and written about rural subjects for almost thirty years. When she isn’t writing, Patrice enjoys self-sufficiency projects, such as animal husbandry, small-scale dairy production, gardening, food preservation and canning, and homeschooling. She and her husband have been married since 1990 and have two daughters.
So,” he added as he released her hand and fell into step beside her, “you said you were from Los Angeles?” “Yes.” “Big city. Why are you here in Pikeville?” Leah froze inside. It was the one question she didn’t want to be asked, but at least she had a predetermined story she could tell, one that mingled with just enough truth to be plausible. “I was in a car accident.” She touched her cheek. “It messed me up pretty badly. I used to work as a television journalist, but you can’t be in television with a face like this. I—I needed to get away. I have friends who know the Bylers, and they invited me to stay with them until I heal up.” Unlike some other men she’d encountered, Isaac didn’t seem to be put off by the scar in the slightest. “And then what? What happens after your face heals?” “I don’t know.” Her shoulders slumped, and for a moment she allowed despair, which was never very far away, to claim her. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ll have to change my career, and it’s something I’m reluctant to do. I loved being a TV journalist.” “Why are you dressed in Amish clothes? It seems unusual for a visitor.” That was a question she hadn’t anticipated. “Uh… uh…since I’m here for so long, I wanted to fit in. I speak a little German, and Edith thought it best if I didn’t stand out. But I’m hoping everyone can forgive me for any blunders I make.” “Oh, they will.” He fell silent as she padded along, her bare feet still tender. “Will you be attending the hot dog roast at the Millers’ tonight?” “I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s polite to show up without an invitation.” “The Millers won’t mind. They’ll have a large crowd of youngies anyway, so one extra person won’t matter.” “What’s a hot dog roast?” “Just as it sounds. They have a long pit where they build a fire, so everyone has a chance to stand by the flames and cook their hot dogs.” “But what do they do, besides eat hot dogs?” “Talk. Sing. Play games. And sometimes flirt.” He grinned at her. Leah caught her breath. If she didn’t know any better, she might have thought Isaac was flirting with her. If so, it was subtle almost to the point of imperceptible. And there was no possible way she could flirt back, not with a man bound within the rules of a faith she didn’t share. She looked away. “I’m much older than Sarah or Rachel. Is this a gathering just for young people?” “How old are you?” he blurted, then made a gesture as if to snatch the words back. “Sorry, I hope that wasn’t rude.” His expression was so comical she laughed. “It’s no secret. I’m twenty-eight.” “Ain’t so? Me too.” “And you’re not married? That seems unusual, from what I know of the Amish.” “I had—” He hesitated. “I spent some time away. Many years, in fact. Now I’m back and I intend to stay, but many of the women in the community aren’t encour-aging when it comes to risking their future with me. I have too much Englisch in me, they say.” She couldn’t help but chuckle. “I assume Englisch is the catchall phrase for anyone who isn’t Amish.” “Ja. It’s not meant as a pejorative, just a distinguisher for anyone who isn’t Amish.”
This is a nicely written romantic suspense with some intense love scenes included. Coral Staufer and Trevor Stone were previously married, to each other, and when Coral is threatened by the Russian mob, Trevor shows up as her protector. He is part of an elite group of covert law enforcement, kind of like the CIA, but not. The head of the mobsters is a woman, Anna Markova, and she has hidden lockboxes on Coral’s property and will stop at nothing to retrieve them, including murder. Her reach is long and that seemed to be very realistic, although I don’t know much about mobs. Anyway, this is the first book that I have read by this author and she definitely kept my attention, especially during the tense escape scenes. Her characters are realistic in that they have weaknesses and flaws that are totally believable. The scenario itself was a little far-fetched for me, but I bought into the plot line and actually really enjoyed it. Fans of romantic suspense will enjoy this new romantic suspense from Harlequin. Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning The Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
Incognito Ex, Silver Valley P.D. number eight, is my favorite SVPD book to date. Coral and Trevor once had it all, including a marriage that both allowed to fail for myriad reasons. When they come face-to-face again, during a night of Russian organized crime madness, it’s not a forgone conclusion that they’d made a mistake by divorcing. But as the stakes rise and both of their lives are at risk, all of the resentments and sorrow of the past melt away to reveal the truth: Trevor is the only one for Coral, and she for him. But there are some big issues to solve first, like how to stay alive while being stalked by a former FSB/KGB agent!
While the situations and characters in my stories are fictional, emotions are universal. We’ve all wondered about our choices, past and present. Perhaps, like Coral and Trevor, we’ve felt the pangs of regret over ending a relationship too soon. I hope you enjoy the suspenseful ride with Coral and Trevor, but more than anything, I hope their love brings you healing in your life, too.
Dr. Faith Finley is a renowned psychologist and is married to Liam, a famous food critic. Everything is good in her life until it isn’t. On her trip home after a book signing, Faith crashes the car and Liam disappears. The assumption is that she did something to him. Then she starts getting threats herself, photos of a woman bound and gagged with excerpts from her recent book. Faith seeks the help of her former boyfriend Will to protect her and to find out what happened to Liam and what is happening to her. Although this book stretches the realm of imagination, the author is brilliant in her depiction of Faith’s fear and all of the undercurrents of tension going on all at once. I don’t think I have read a book that kept my attention as well as this one did. I soared through the pages, wanting to know where Liam was, why Faith was being threatened and who could be trusted. Although the beginning was slow, the pace picked up quickly and raced to a stunning conclusion. Fans of psychological thrillers and suspense will enjoy this book. Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
Because of mature topics and references to violence, I would rate this book a strong PGAuthor Bio: Seraphina Nova Glass is a professor and Playwright-in-Residence at the University of Texas-Arlington, where she teaches Film Studies and Playwriting. She holds an MFA in playwriting from Smith College, and has optioned multiple screenplays to Hallmark and Lifetime. Someone’s Listening is her first novel.
WHEN I WAKE UP, IT’S BLACK AND STILL; I FEEL A light, icy snow that floats rather than falls, and I can’t open my eyes. I don’t know where I am, but it’s so quiet, the silence rings in my ears. My fingertips try to grip the ground, but I feel only a sheet of ice beneath me, splintered with bits of embedded gravel. The air is sharp, and I try to call for him, but I can’t speak. How long have I been here? I drift back out of consciousness. The next time I wake, I hear the crunching of ice under the boots of EMTs who rush around my body. I know where I am. I’m lying in the middle of County Road 6. There has been a crash. There’s a swirling red light, a strobe light in the vast blackness: they tell me not to move. “Where’s my husband?” I whimper. They tell me to try not to talk either. “Liam!” I try to yell for him, but it barely escapes my lips; they’re numb, near frozen, and it comes out in a hoarse whisper. How has this happened? I think of the party and how I hate driving at night, and how I was careful not to drink too much. I nursed a glass or two, stayed in control. Liam had a lot more. It wasn’t like him to get loaded, and I knew it was his way of getting back at me. He was irritated with me, with the position I’d put him in, even though he had never said it in so many words. I wanted to please him because this whole horrible situation was my fault, and I was sorry. When I wake up again I’m in a hospital room, connected to tubes and machines. The IV needle is stuck into a bruised, purple vein in the back of my hand that aches. In the dim light, I sip juice from a tiny plastic cup, and the soft beep of the EKG tries to lull me back to sleep, but I fight it. I want answers. I need to appear stabilized and alert. Another dose of painkiller is released into my IV; the momentary euphoria forces me to heave a sigh. I need to keep my eyes open. I can hear the cops arrive and talk to someone at a desk outside my door. They’ll tell me what happened. There’s a nurse who calls me “sweetie” and changes the subject when I ask about the accident. She gives the cops a sideways look when they come in to talk to me, and tells them they only have a few minutes and that I need to rest. Detective John Sterling greets me with a soft “Hello, ma’am.” I almost forget about my shattered femur and groan after I move too quickly. Another officer lingers by the door, a tall, stern-looking woman with her light hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her skull. She tells me I’m lucky to be alive, and if it had dropped below freezing, I wouldn’t have lasted those couple hours before a passing car stopped and called 911. I ask where Liam is, but she just looks to Sterling. Something is terribly wrong. “Why won’t anyone tell me what happened to him?” I plead. I watch Detective Sterling as he picks his way through a response. “The nurse tells me that you believe he was in the car with you at the time of the accident,” he says. I can hear the condescension in his voice. He’s speaking to me like I’m a child. “They said ‘I believe’ he was? That’s not a— That’s a fact. We came from a party—a book signing party. Anyone, anyone can tell you that he was with me. Please. Is he hurt?” I look down at my body for the first time and see the jagged stitches holding together the bruised flesh of my right arm. They look exaggerated, like the kind you might draw on with makeup and glue for a Halloween costume. I close my eyes, holding back nausea. I try to walk through the series of events—trying to piece together what happened and when. Liam had been quiet in the car. I knew he’d believed me after the accusations started. I knew he trusted me, but maybe I’d underestimated the seeds of doubt that had been planted in his mind. I tried to lighten the mood when we got in the car by making some joke about the fourteen-dollar domestic beers; he’d given a weak chuckle and rested his head on the passenger window. The detective looks at me with something resembling sympathy but closer to pity. “Do you recall how much you had to drink last night?” he asks accusingly. “What? You think…? No. I drove because he… No! Where is he?” I ask, not recognizing my own voice. It’s haggard and raw. “Do you recall taking anything to help you relax? Anything that might impair your driving?” “No,” I snap, nearly in tears again. “So, you didn’t take any benzodiazepine maybe? Yesterday…at some point?” “No— I— Please.” I choke back tears. “I don’t…” He looks at me pointedly, then scribbles something on his stupid notepad. I didn’t know what to say. Liam must be dead, and they think I’m too fragile to take the news. Why would they ask me this? “Ma’am,” he says, standing. He softens his tone. This is it. He’s going to tell me something I’ll never recover from. “You were the only one in the car when medics got there,” he says, studying me for my response, waiting to detect a lie that he can use against me later. His patronizing look infuriates me. “What?” The blood thumps in my ears. They think I’m crazy; that soft tone isn’t a sympathetic one reserved for delivery of the news that a loved one has died—it’s the careful language chosen when speaking to someone unstable. They think I’m some addict or a drunk. Maybe they think the impact had made me lose the details, but he was there. I swear to God. His cry came too late and there was a crash. It was deafening, and I saw him reach for me, his face distorted in terror. He tried to shield me. He was there. He was next to me, screaming my name when we saw the truck headlights appear only feet in front of us—too late.
What an excellent, heart-tingling in all the right places kind of book! Roz had a hard life as a child, ended up marrying the brother of her childhood sweetheart and now she has been diagnosed with cancer. A widow with three children she has no one else to call on except her brother-in-law, Paul Martin. Paul reluctantly leaves his prosperous fitness center empire behind to go to Sweet Briar to help Roz as she undergoes treatment and hopefully recovers. This book touched me in all of the right ways. With a theme of forgiveness and second chances, it was well-written with charming characters. Little Suzanne, a precocious six year old, is totally besotted with her Uncle Paul as he helps her to overcome her fears about her mommy’s future. Nathaniel, a mature eleven year old, is happy to have the help with his mom and sisters and needs the role model that Paul provides. Roz and Paul have a long way on a separate journey to go before there is even the possibility that they can get together again. This is a totally clean read, which is always a real bonus to me. Fans of romance that is uplifting will enjoy this book. Even if you are like me and have not read any of the other Sweet Briar books, you will definitely find something to enjoy in this one: love, hope, laughter, and even a few tears. Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
Author bio: Kathy Douglass came by her love of reading naturally – both of her parents were readers. She would finish one book and pick up another. Then she attended law school and traded romances for legal opinions.
After the birth of her two children, her love of reading turned into a love of writing. Kathy now spends her days writing the small town contemporary novels she enjoys reading.
Kathy loves to hear from her readers and can be found on Facebook.
Excerpt, THE SINGLE MOM’S SECOND CHANCE by Kathy Douglass
Paul drummed his fingers on his desktop. “Do you want to get to the reason you barged into my office today? I’m sure it wasn’t just to look at me.”
Roz’s face grew hot as she struggled to keep from staring at him. As a teenager, he’d been dedicated to clean living and his body had reflected that. The years had been very good to him. He was six feet two inches of lean muscle. His brown skin glowed with good health, and his face was beyond hand-some, even with his eyes narrowed with irritation.
She took a breath but the word cancer clogged her throat, leaving her unable to speak. To her horror, her eyes filled with tears and her vision blurred. Blinking back the moisture, she forced herself to talk. “I need your help.”
“With what? Not that it matters. The answer is no. We don’t have that type of relationship. Remember? If you’d thought it through, you could have saved yourself the trouble and me the time and aggravation.”
“Are you still holding what happened when we were kids against me?”
“No. But I’m not willing to pretend that we’re friends either. And since Terrence has died, we are no longer family.” He made air quotes with his hands making it clear he’d never accepted her as part of the family.
“Do you consider my kids your nephew and nieces? Are they still your family? Do you still love them?”
“Of course I love them. What do they have to do with this favor of yours?”
“Everything. If not for them I wouldn’t be interrupting your workday.” The annoyed look on his face indicated that her time was coming to an end. Since there was no easy way to say it and she doubted the word would affect him the way it affected her, she just blurted it out. “I have cervical cancer.”
He blinked and jerked as if she’d given him an electric shock. “What?”
“You heard me.” She couldn’t say it again. Her voice wobbled and one of the tears she’d tried so hard to hold back escaped and then slid down her face. She brushed it away, hoping he hadn’t seen it. She didn’t want Paul to see her cry. He might accuse her of using her tears as a weapon, and she wasn’t pre-pared for that battle.
His mouth moved but no sound emerged. She could relate. She’d been floored when her doctor had delivered the news. Though she’d been sitting down, her knees had shaken like Jell-O in an earth-quake. Even now, it was a struggle to stand. But she couldn’t worry about his state of mind. She needed to get to the point of this meeting. “I’m going to be undergoing chemotherapy and having surgery soon.”
When he simply stared at her, his face devoid of all expression, she continued. “I won’t be able to take care of my kids. I have friends who will help me but that won’t be enough. I’m going to need live-in help. Hiring someone is out of the question. I don’t want my kids to have to adjust to a stranger in the house in addition to dealing with my illness. If there were someone else I could go to for help, I would. But there isn’t. Your mother offered to postpone their cruise again, but I can’t ask them to do that. Your father needs to get away from here in order to move past his grief and start living again. So I need someone—you—to come to Sweet Briar.”
Paul’s head was swimming and he fought against a sudden wave of dizziness. Cancer. Roz had cancer. The word echoed in his brain, then slammed repeatedly against his skull. It didn’t make sense. How could she be so sick?
She looked fine. She’d always been slender, with small breasts, a tiny waist and slim hips, but, upon closer examination, she did appear a little thinner than she’d been at Terrence’s funeral last year. Her white top was a bit loose and she kept adjusting the strap, preventing it from slipping off her shoulder. Although her face was as beautiful as ever, the spark in her eyes had been replaced by fear and her brown skin looked dull. Her lips trembled as she tried to smile. Apparently, her mouth refused to cooperate, and after a moment, she gave up the attempt.
“I know it will be inconvenient for you, but you’re my only hope. I’m determined to get well fast, so you shouldn’t have to stay for long. And Nathaniel is old enough to help with Megan and Suzanne.”
It took a minute for her rapidly spoken words to register. Was she still trying to convince him? Was she that uncertain that she could rely on him? “Of course I’ll come. Whatever you need.”
Her body sagged in relief. “Thank you.”
“Did you think I’d say no?”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure. I’d hoped you’d say yes but I came prepared to be turned down.”
Considering that he’d initially said no before knowing what she needed, there was nothing he could say in his defense. “When did you get your diagnosis?”
“A week ago.”
A week? And she hadn’t said anything to him? “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Her eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? We haven’t spoken a civil word to each other in years unless there was someone else around. As you just pointed out, we’re neither family nor friends.”
The words sounded so much crueler now. He’d been unnecessarily harsh. Shame battered him, leaving him speechless.
“My oncologist is working on a treatment plan. He’ll have it together by Friday, with dates and schedules. I’ll check with you before I confirm any-thing with him, to make sure you’re available first.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be there whenever you need me to be.”
This was a slow-paced suspense book that had several twists in it that I did not see coming. Daisy is a primary school teacher, Simon is an interior designer and Millie is a happy little ballerina who enjoys her friends at primary school and her dance lessons. They seem like the perfectly blissful unit, but as the title suggests, there are lots of secrets. Simon’s love for a drink after work has turned into alcoholism, a secret that is hardly hidden but Daisy chooses not to address it. Millie, their beloved daughter, becomes a victim of their secrets and lies one night when there is a horrible accident. This is where lots of twists and turns begin in the book and this train raced to the surprising and stunning conclusion. The author did a masterful job of dealing with some really dark topics in the context of the plot, including post-natal depression, sexual violence and addiction. None of the characters were particularly likable, so I didn’t really relate to any of them, but I did sympathize with their plight. At times, I felt like just screaming at the pages of the book, “Talk to each other for heaven’s sake!” That makes lack of communication the theme that ran throughout the book and is the reason for the title. Fans of mystery and suspense will enjoy this book. Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I purchased a copy of this book from The Book Depository. I also received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guides Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
Because of the topics that are central to this novel, I would rate it a hard PG-13.
Author Bio: Adele Parks was born in Teesside, North-East England. Her first novel, Playing Away, was published in 2000 and since then she’s had seventeen international bestsellers, translated into twenty-six languages, including I Invited Her In. She’s been an Ambassador for The Reading Agency and a judge for the Costa. She’s lived in Italy, Botswana and London, and is now settled in Guildford, Surrey, with her husband, teenage son and cat.
Available on August 4th online and at your favorite bookseller.
Simon was six years old when he first tasted beer.
He was bathed and ready for bed wearing soft pyjamas, even though it was light outside; still early. Other kids were in the street, playing on their bikes, kicking a football. He could hear them through the open window, although he couldn’t see them because the blinds were closed. His daddy didn’t like the evening light glaring on the TV screen, his mummy didn’t like the neighbours looking in; keeping the room dark was something they agreed on.
His mummy didn’t like a lot of things: wasted food, messy bedrooms, Daddy driving too fast, his sister throwing a tantrum in public. Mummy liked ‘having standards’. He didn’t know what that meant, exactly. There was a standard-bearer at Cubs; he was a big boy and got to wave the flag at the front of the parade, but his mummy didn’t have a flag, so it was unclear. What was clear was that she didn’t like him to be in the street after six o’clock. She thought it was common. He wasn’t sure what common was either, something to do with having fun. She bathed him straight after tea and made him put on pyjamas, so that he couldn’t sneak outside.
He didn’t know what his daddy didn’t like, just what he did like. His daddy was always thirsty and liked a drink. When he was thirsty he was grumpy and when he had a drink, he laughed a lot. His daddy was an accountant and like to count in lots of different ways: “a swift one’, “a cold one’, and ‘one more for the road’. Sometimes Simon though his daddy was lying when he said he was an accountant; most likely, he was a pirate or a wizard. He said to people, “Pick your poison’, which sounded like something pirates might say, and he liked to drink, “the hair of a dog’ in the morning at the weekends, which was definitely a spell. Simon asked his mummy about it once and she told him to stop being silly and never to say those silly things outside the house.
He had been playing with his Etch A Sketch, which was only two months old and was a birthday present. Having seen it advertised on TV, Simon had begged for it, but it was disappointing. Just two silly knobs making lines that went up and down, side to side. Limited. Boring. He was bored. The furniture in the room was organised so all of it was pointing at the TV which was blaring but not interesting. The news. His parents liked watching the news, but he didn’t. His father was nursing a can of the grown ups’ pop that Simon was never allowed. The pop that smelt like nothing else, fruity and dark and tempting.
“Can I have a sip?” he asked.
“Don’t be silly, Simon,” his mother interjected. “You’re far too young. Beer is for daddies.” He thought she said ‘daddies’, but she might have said ‘baddies’.
His father put the can to his lips, glared at his mother, cold. A look that said, “Shut up woman, this is man’s business.” His mother had blushed, looked away as though she couldn’t stand to watch, but she held her tongue. Perhaps she thought the bitterness wouldn’t be to his taste, that one sip would put him off. He didn’t like the taste. But he enjoyed the collusion. He didn’t know that word then, but he instinctively understood the thrill. He and his daddy drinking grown ups’ pop! His father had looked satisfied when he swallowed back the first mouthful, then pushed for a second. He looked almost proud. Simon tasted the aluminium can, the snappy biting bitter bubbles and it lit a fuse.
After that, in the mornings, Simon would sometimes get up early, before Mummy or Daddy or his little sister, and he’d dash around the house before school, tidying up. He’d open the curtains, empty the ashtrays, clear away the discarded cans. Invariably his mother went to bed before his father. Perhaps she didn’t want to have to watch him drink himself into a stupor every night, perhaps she hoped denying him an audience might take away some of the fun for him, some of the need. She never saw just how bad the place looked by the time his father staggered upstairs to bed. Simon knew it was important that she didn’t see that particular brand of chaos.
Occasionally there would be a small amount of beer left in one of the cans. Simon would slurp it back. He found he liked the flat, forbidden, taste just as much as the fizzy hit of fresh beer. He’d throw open a window, so the cigarette smoke and the secrets could drift away. When his mother came downstairs, she would smile at him and thank him for tidying up.
“You’re a good boy, Simon,” she’d say with some relief. And no idea.
When there weren’t dregs to be slugged, he sometimes opened a new can. Threw half of it down his throat before eating his breakfast. His father never kept count.
Some people say their favourite smell is freshly baked bread, others say coffee or a campfire. From a very young age, few scents could pop Simon’s nerve endings like the scent of beer.
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