REVIEW:

Oh my gosh! Jenifer Ruff has done it again! Does that surprise me? No. Not at all. She has written Lies In The Snow – An Agent Victoria Heslin Thriller 10. This is a series of stand alone thrillers that feature FBI Agent Victoria Heslin. You don’t have to read these books in order. The only thing that follows a timeline is her personal life. I have enjoyed reading them in order. I would urge you to jump right in and then if you love these books as much as I do, go back to the beginning and enjoy! I think I have the first two books to read yet. I’m going to save them. I just might need a Heslin fix down the road!

Lies In The Snow is about a vacation that goes all kinds of wrong. There is an avalanche and all the vacationers are trapped at the ski resort because the road in and out is blocked. Then a dead body discovered just off of one of the ski runs. Things go downhill throughout the book. There are some exciting, nerve-wracking times and I wanted to put the book down just to give my heart and brain a rest, but I was compelled to keep reading. It is a very intense read.

Of course, Victoria, Ned and her family are familiar characters but the others are all new. Some of them are typical of what you might think they would be. The bartender and the resort manager are examples of those people. The other ones you are trying to figure out if they are the culprits behind the crime that has been committed. My mind was working during my sleep to figure out who was the guilty one.

If you love a book that will keep you on the edge of your seat, keep your mind working to figure out what is going on and makes you wonder how in the world it is all going to work out, then Jenifer Ruff’s new thriller Lies In The Snow is the book you need to put on the top of your TBR pile. I think you will love it. Until next time…Happy Reading!

Don’t forget to support the authors you read by leaving a review. Even a few words help.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from the author. The opinions I have expressed are my own and I was not required to write a review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

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SYNOPSIS:

The weather outside is frightful… what’s inside is worse.

FBI Agent Victoria Heslin went to Black Ridge Ski Resort for a peaceful getaway with her fiancé. But a snowstorm triggers a massive avalanche that blocks the only access road, trapping them on the mountain.

Their isolation turns deadly when ski patrol finds a body on the slopes, and Victoria discovers the death is no accident. The killer is among them, and Victoria’s investigation threatens to expose secrets someone will do anything to protect.

With another brutal storm bearing down and panic spreading through the lodge, Victoria must identify the murderer before he or she strikes again.

An atmospheric, twisty thriller from USA Today bestselling author Jenifer Ruff.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

INTRODUCTION:

Part literary adventure and part historical farce, Karl Marx and the Lost California Manifesto by Scott D. Carlson imagines what might have happened if one of history’s most radical thinkers joined the Gold Rush.

In 1849, Karl Marx escapes debt and disgrace in London by heading to California, chasing gold for both himself and his cause. There he meets Sixto, a bright, kindhearted teenager raised by padres and hunted by a dangerous sailor. The two become unlikely partners on a comic and perilous trek through the Sierra Nevada, pursued by bungling Prussian agents hoping to reclaim Marx’s Manifesto. As they encounter miners, Miwok tribespeople, fugitives, and dreamers, Marx begins to confront the contradictions between revolution and survival, and Sixto learns that freedom often comes at a cost. Through its humor and humanity, the novel asks timeless questions about greed, idealism, and belonging.

EXCERPT:

From Lt. Junger and Lt. Fischel
to King Frederick William IV

May 14, 1849

To: His Excellency King of Prussia Frederick William IV
Re: Herr Karl Marx

To our most high King, the greatest sovereign in all of Europe— Ja in all the world! Your servants have cleverly followed, if we do humbly say so ourselves, Herr Marx and his Junge companion to this settlement called Sacramento, in the hinterland of California. It is a place even more remote and Scheiß-ridden than San Francisco. A flood came and turned the entire settlement into one great cesspool of Scheiß, mud, offal, garbage, and dead beasts. There are no wonderful water closets here like those your Majesty has at Sanssouci—in fact, there are no water closets at all. Always the whole settlement smells like the hind end of a peasant horse.

Expertly disguised as miners from Chili, we left San Francisco on the same steamboat as did Marx, the Junge, and their donkey. Because of our Chilian dress, we met on the boat the hostility of some drunken Americans, who insisted we must keep first to the aft, then to the forward part of the boat. This conformed perfectly with our plan, as we could then stay close to Marx and his accomplice.

In the morning, we witnessed Herr Marx engage in argument
with some of the passengers and then, as seems to be his habit, with the boat captain. Marx cannot tolerate anyone other than himself being the “captain.” As is also his habit of late, he came out on the losing end. He then ordered the boat captain to deliver him and the Junge to the bank of the river. The captain resisted but finally gave in, no doubt thinking it best just to be rid of Marx, and abruptly deposited them on a spit of sand in the river channel.

Soon after, we asked the captain to bank the boat and we
disembarked. After fighting our way through the bulrushes, we came out at a point from which we saw Marx and the Junge setting off overland. On the boat, Marx had been engaging in some very odd gymnastics, and he continued these as they set off toward the east. They, and we, did not know that they were headed in the direction of a native village, which they eventually entered.

From a distance we waited as the subversives conducted in the village what we believe to be benign business with an American woodsman. After seeing them leave, we entered the village. Through the woodsman there, we learned that the natives had been entertained by Marx, and that they expected us to perform for them too. Wanting to please, your servants proudly represented the Prussian nation by performing a very creditable Lauschaer Galopp, for which we received a standing ovation. The woodsman also revealed to us Marx’s probable ultimate destination in the mountains beyond Sacramento. As much as we then wanted to continue with our surveillance, our native hosts said we must, before leaving, eat a local dish of mashed boiled acorns garnished
with bits of tuberous material. We acceded, unfortunately, as almost immediately we were both befallen with, we are sorry to offend your Excellency, explosiver Durchfall, which disabled us for the rest of the day and that night.

However, the next day, we were able to muster the strength to
set off for this sorry settlement that makes a Latvian hamlet seem like Baden-Baden. Here ensued some temporary trouble from which we will soon extricate ourselves and again be hot on the trail of Herr Marx, to wit: We eventually located Marx and the Junge in one of the several houses of drink and gambling—an establishment charmingly referred to locally as a “café chantant.” This house also featured music provided by a French woman and an American piano player who had to be, we are sure, working together for the first time. The music was not to our taste, nor was the very bad beer—how we greatly miss the beloved brews of home! The French woman was an apparent lady of the night posing as a mumbling
chanteuse. The American played in the style of a Lutheran church organist, and the mismatch resulted in loud catcalls from the surly patrons.

We followed Marx and companion to a gambling table with
the intent that we might be able to bankrupt him, but quickly
discovered that the table, run by a Mexican card dealer, was
exclusively for speakers of Spanish. The confusion caused by this language obstacle was compounded by the unfamiliar game being played, and further so by having to endure the awful music. Oh how we miss the strain of accordions playing the Hohenfriedberger Marsch in a Biergarten! In short, we have been unusually frugal with your Excellency’s money, but we risked an imprudently large bet in the game and lost. Conversely, Marx, aided by the Spanish-speaking Junge, bet against long odds with what we believe was one
of his last coins—and won.

Apparently feeling flush, Herr Marx proceeded to drink several glasses of the lousy beer. Then, in a break in the chanteuse’s “music,” and presumably inspired by her nationality, Marx stood upon a table and began singing the revolutionary Marseillaise anthem. We were alert that this might be a signal or coded message to other revolutionaries in and around the “chantant,” but the catcalls grew very loud and Herr Marx was struck by bottles thrown by a table of
Australians. One of the Australians then turned his attention to us. He wanted to know “what the hell you’re gawkin’ at” and wrongly accused us of Sodomitic desires. His compatriots soon joined in abusing us. We could not speak openly without giving away our identities to Marx. And we are not French puffs “de crème.” One thing led to another, and we found ourselves outside in a fistfight with the Australians. We fought bravely but were outnumbered and were pitched into a mudhole caused by the recent flooding. To add insult to injury, the Australians exposed us to several lewd gestures
which were of a nature unlike any we have ever seen, even in a Prussian enlisted men’s barracks. However, the Australians received a comeuppance of sorts as they—and we, too, unfortunately—were arrested by constables and arraigned by the local justice of the peace, who apparently makes his living by taxing foreigners with outrageous fines, nonpayment of which results in confinement. We had only a small sum left after the gambling table and thus are enduring an unpleasant stay in the “hoosegow” with the Australians but expect to be released shortly.

Your Excellency may be assured that despite losing Herr Marx’s trail for a short time, we are confident we will be able to find him, as we know of his intended destination. However, we regret to report that we are very short of funds. Our accidental gambling loss has drained our “treasury,” so to speak—please send money, your Highness! You may send it to Sacramento, in care of our cover names, “Hozay and Horhay the Chilians.”

We thank you profusely and remain deeply dedicated to your
service.
Your servants,
Lt. Ernst Junger
Lt. Franz Fischel

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Scott D. Carlson’s writing reflects a life spent exploring the many layers of human experience. He’s worked as a teacher, lawyer, cook, and farmhand, and his storytelling is steeped in the wit and empathy of someone who’s seen the world from many perspectives. He holds an MA in Creative Writing from New York University and lives in the Bay Area, where California’s history continues to fuel his imagination. Learn more on his website.

Amazon: https://bit.ly/4nWC6nK

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/242443484-karl-marx-and-the-lost-california-manifesto

Q & A

Writing Process & Creativity

How did you research your book? 

I’m lucky to have a good public library, and access to a university library, that both have a lot of books containing first-hand accounts by “49ers,” of their experiences coming to California and what it was like in the mountains. A lot of these books are online, via the Internet Archive or Project Gutenberg, which are great resources. 

What’s the hardest scene or character you wrote—and why?

I think the “action” scenes in the book are difficult. For example, the duel, and later Sixto and Marx roping the Prussians. I want readers to be able to “see” these clearly in their imaginations, so you have to be pretty detailed about who does what in space, and when and how, etc. 

Where do you get your ideas?

The idea for this book came from reading a biography of Marx. In 1850, he and Friedrich Engels both seriously considered coming to America, but were so broke they couldn’t afford the boat fare. I had to wonder: What if he had come?  Reading about gold miners’ lives also gave me more ideas than I could handle.

What helps you overcome writer’s block?

Ego. Seriously, the writer Flannery O’Connor said something like “Just get behind your machine!” And another writer, E.L. Doctorow, who I studied with, said that he was sitting at his desk staring at a wall, started writing about the wall, and it turned into his novel Ragtime.

Your Writing Life

Do you write every day? What’s your schedule? 

I try to write every morning, Monday to Friday, for anywhere from 2 to 4 hours, sometimes a little longer. Weekends are mostly reserved for other parts of my life.

Where do you write—home, coffee shop, train?

I can’t write anywhere but home, and when I’m there, not anywhere but in the little world of my “office.” With the two doors closed. I can stare out the window there, at a bunch of oak trees. 

Behind the Book

If your book became a movie, who would star in it?

Good question, but tough. The real Marx would have been 31 years old in 1849. If Timothy Chalamet can pull off Bob Dylan, he could maybe do Marx. I haven’t really watched the show, but I’m wondering if a couple of the guys in Reservation Dogs could play Sixto. He’s just as important, or more so, than Marx.

Fun & Lighthearted Qs

Which author(s) most inspired you?

There’s a whole host of them, but to name a few: J.M. Coetzee; Saul Bellow, John Updike, Joan Didion, Hilary Mantel; Vladimir Nabokov, and Richard Ford. 

What’s your go-to comfort food? 

I’m a chocoholic. But for “real” food I like…beans and lentils? And eggs. Do they count?

What are you binge-watching right now? 

I don’t do a lot of bingeing, but recently I did do season three of The White Lotus. I was prepared to not like it, but I got hooked. I thought it was much better than season one. 

If you could time-travel, where would you go?

If I knew I would survive them, almost any of the epic early sea voyages, like Magellan’s and Drake’s circumnavigations, or Cook’s voyages. But the food would have been horrible. No comfort food there. 

What 3 books would you bring to a desert island?

The American Heritage Dictionary, so I wouldn’t forget my language, and, believe it or not, entertain myself with it. Probably a complete collection of New Yorker cartoons, for when I need a laugh. And “The Yale Shakespeare,” his complete works. 

What’s something that made you laugh this week?

A sentence that I wrote in a novella I’m now writing. It’s a good sign, I think, if I can laugh at my own writing. 

REVIEW:

I have read a few books by Tess Thompson that have been part of a series with other authors. Second Act is the prequel to a new series that is coming out. It is called The Parent App. I had so much fun reading the prequel and am looking forward to the series and am hoping to be able to review it for you. The first book comes out in November and book two in December. Be watching for them.

This is a series about five women who have five children the same age. They bonded over a coffee get together the first day their kids started school. They had so much in common and have formed a family of choice. The five kids decide their moms need a man in their lives when they head off to college in a few years. They just finished Junior High and are headed to High School next year. They have decided to put a profile for their moms on a dating site to see what happens. 

I can just imagine what happens when they tell the moms about their scheme. Can’t you? I really want to read that book. Then the following books have to be the moms going on first dates and finding Mr. Wrong and Mr. Right. There has to be some funny and heartbreaking moments. Don’t you think?

In just this short prequel, I found the characters are beautifully developed. I feel like I’ve met some new friends to spend some time with. I love characters that are so open and relatable. It allows me to just fall into the story and enjoy myself and their antics.

I think these books are going to be right in my wheelhouse and bring me a lot of enjoyment. If this sounds like anything you might like, I encourage you to check out The Parent App Series! The Second Act is free right now so, go grab a copy for yourself. If you put these on your nightstand, let me know what you think. I can’t wait to hear from you. Until next time…Happy Reading!

Don’t forget to support the authors you read by leaving a review. Even a few words help!

I received a complimentary copy of this book from the author. The opinions I have expressed are my own and I was not required to write a review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

SYNOPSIS:

What happens when the kids put their single moms on a dating app?

Unexpected connections, heartfelt confessions, and the first sparks of second chances in this clean & wholesome small-town romance prequel.

Five kids. Five single moms. One unforgettable summer.

In the coastal town of Willet Cove, five kids have grown up side by side, bound together like family. Their moms—five single mothers who’ve built a found family of their own—have given them everything.

But as high school looms, the kids see what their mothers won’t admit: behind the laughter and busy lives is a quiet loneliness. And they’re determined to fix it.

The plan? Create dating profiles for all five women on a matchmaking app called Second Chance.

What begins as a secret experiment soon opens the door to truths, risks, and possibilities none of them imagined. Because sometimes it takes a child’s love to spark the second chance you never saw coming.

Heartwarming, emotional, and full of healing and hope, this novella launches The Parent App series of small-town romances about single moms, lasting friendship, and the second chances we all deserve.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tess Thompson is the USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author of contemporary and historical Romantic Women’s Fiction with over 50 published titles. Her books are emotional and heartwarming with themes of second chances, redemption and the power love has to change lives and create community.

She lives in the Pacific Northwest in a house on a small lake with her husband and kitties. Her four children are now young adults exploring their own paths and adventures, leaving an empty nest and a lot more time to write. She and her husband enjoy a quiet life, obsessed with birds and the other wildlife on their property, which makes them officially old. On any given day their yard could be visited by deer, bears, coyotes and squirrels.

Most days, she can be found curled up in her favorite chair reading or in her office writing while keeping an eye out for hummingbirds in the feeder outside of her office.

REVIEW:

Debbie Macomber is one of my favorite authors for a darn good Christmas Story. If you haven’t found your Christmas book for this year, I highly recommend to you A Ferry Merry Christmas. It is such a heartwarming and feel good story, it will keep you in the holiday spirit for days.

A Ferry Merry Christmas takes place mostly on a Ferry in the Puget Sound. I have memories of taking that Ferry and of some of the other places mentioned, it was a good book to reminisce while reading. This particular trip didn’t go as planned. The ferry broke down right in the middle of the trip to Seattle. This never happens and people were a little put out because it was so near Christmas and they were headed to see Santa, family and do a little Christmas shopping. This breakdown was really sinking the plans of a lot of folks who were on board.

We get to meet some really nice people on board and some who are waiting at the terminal for family members to arrive. You can imagine there are people grumbling over the delay in their plans especially when the wait is longer than promised. There is at least one circumstance that ultimately brings them together in harmony and helps to solve a problem in a most unique way. It reminded me and the ones involved what the season is really all about.

If you love a great story that reminds us about the spirit of Christmas and the love we are supposed to have for our fellow human beings, then Debbie Macomber’s A Ferry Merry Christmas deserves to be on the top of your tbr pile on your Nightstand. Until next time…Happy Reading!

Don’t forget to support the authors you read by leaving a review.

I received a complimentary copy of this book from the #DebbieMacomber, #Netgalley and #BallentineBooks. The opinions I have expressed are totally my own and I was not required to write a review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

SYNOPSIS:

A delayed ferryboat brings people together in the best of ways during the holiday season in this enchanting Christmas novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber.

Avery and Reed Bond grew up sharing a close-knit relationship, weathering life’s storms side by side. Even so, Avery often finds herself exasperated by her brother’s relentless matchmaking, while Reed can’t resist teasing his sister—after all, isn’t that what siblings do?

Facing their first Christmas without their beloved Grams, the woman who lovingly raised them, Reed and Avery decide to spend the holiday together at Reed’s home. However, their plans take an unexpected turn when the ferry Avery’s traveling on stalls in the middle of Puget Sound, stranding its passengers and leaving Reed waiting a now undetermined length of time for her arrival. What is at first an inconvenience threatens to ruin the plans of a number of commuters, but Avery and Reed soon discover that this unforeseen delay might end up being be a perfectly timed blessing in disguise.

While stuck on the ferry, Avery meets a handsome sailor and witnesses a Christmas miracle that reignites her belief in the holiday spirit. Meanwhile, Reed runs into a coworker who’s also waiting for a family member to arrive, and sparks a surprising and delightful connection.

In this tale of holiday magic, the Bond siblings find themselves taking a chance on love, proving that sometimes the best moments in life come when we least expect them.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debbie Macomber is a #1 New York Times bestselling author and one of today’s most popular writers with more than 200 million copies of her books in print worldwide. In her novels, Macomber brings to life compelling relationships that embrace family and enduring friendships, uplifting her readers with stories of connection and hope. Macomber’s novels have spent over 1,000 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list. Fifteen of these novels hit the number one spot.

In 2023, Macomber’s all-new hardcover publication includes Must Love Flowers (July). In addition to fiction, Macomber has also published three bestselling cookbooks, three adult coloring books, numerous inspirational and nonfiction works, and two acclaimed children’s books.

Celebrated as “the official storyteller of Christmas”, Macomber’s annual Christmas books are beloved and six have been crafted into original Hallmark Channel movies. Macomber is also the author of the bestselling Cedar Cove Series which the Hallmark Channel chose as the basis for its first dramatic scripted television series. Debuting in 2013, Debbie Macomber’s Cedar Cove was a ratings favorite for three seasons.

She serves on the Guideposts National Advisory Cabinet, is a YFC National Ambassador, and is World Vision’s international spokesperson for their Knit for Kids charity initiative. A devoted grandmother, Debbie and Wayne live in Port Orchard, Washington, the town which inspired the Cedar Cove series.

Today’s feature is The Great Dick: And the Dysfunctional Demon by Barry Maher, a supernatural thriller that’s wickedly funny, deeply unsettling, and impossible to put down. If you’re looking for a story that fuses dark comedy with bone-chilling suspense, this one belongs on your list.

It’s 1982, and Steve Witowski is running from his past and the law when he saves a woman named Victoria from a brutal assault. Victoria has just bought a crumbling church with a dark history, and Steve’s single act of heroism entangles him in her world of grave robbing, occult rituals, and secrets that demand blood. Steve refuses to believe in the supernatural, but as visions torment him and the demon’s grip tightens, he learns denial can be fatal. The Great Dick: And the Dysfunctional Demon is a thrilling descent into horror and humor, where reality and nightmare blur until neither can be trusted.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Barry Maher may be the only horror novelist who’s ever appeared in the pages of Funeral Service Insider. In his misspent youth, his articles were featured in perhaps a hundred different publications and, in order to eat, he held nearly that many different jobs. Sometimes he lived on the beach. Not in a house on the beach. On the beach. With the sand and the seagulls.

After a sentence with a Fortune 100 company, he started speaking professionally. He told stories to audiences across the country and around the world: his client-list a Who’s Who of multi-national corporations and large associations.

Awhile back, Barry lost the ability to tell time, courtesy of a baseball-size, cancerous, brain tumor. He awoke from having his skull cut open without the tumor, but with the story that became “The Great Dick: And the Dysfunctional Demon,” a darkly funny, supernatural thriller set in California in 1982. Early praise calls the book “wholly fresh and original,” “witty, literate, scary, sexy,” and “an absolute blast.”

On the downside, Maher’s actually been incarcerated twice. Once for not making a left hand turn out of a left hand turn lane, and once for aiding and abetting a loiterer. He’s deeply repentant.

Barry Maher has lived many lives — poet, journalist, syndicated columnist, and international speaker. Known for his dark humor and sharp perspective, he’s been featured in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and appeared on The Today Show, CNN, and CNBC. His work, whether on the page or on stage, always surprises and captivates. Learn more on his website or connect with him on Facebook.

REVIEW:

Jenny Colgan has written a new Christmas novel for our added enjoyment of the holiday season. The new book is titled The Secret Christmas Library. If you are an avid reader, the title itself will peak your interest. I know it did for me. All I needed to see after that is that the setting is in Scotland. I do have a tiny bit of Scottish blood in my DNA and that really drew my interest.

Ms. Colgan is not one of those authors who I read without reading the synopsis. I always check her books out before I decide to read them. There are some of her series that I absolutely love and others that I find are not what I am into. That’s ok. I just think she likes a variety of subjects and to be honest, I think I am too old for some of them.

This book was fun and interesting. It is about a man named Jamie who has inherited a run down castle, probably beyond saving. He has information that hidden within the castle is a priceless book. If he can find it, he might be able to save his family home. He enlists the help of Mirren and Theo to help him find the book in a castle that is hoarded with books collected by his grandfather. 

The book took place over the Christmas holiday. They have a couple of snowstorms that strand them at the castle for a little longer than originally planned. I did like the shift in the relationships during that short time. I will say there was a lot packed into those few days. I think the book was a little too descriptive of the castle and how miserable life was within its walls. I got a little bored with that. It may have just been me. I tend to agree with Mirren that it was all a bit like a fairy tale to be there imagining life like it used to be and what the castle looked like in its heyday.

This was a Christmas story of sorts but it was not a traditional Christmas at all. They did make do with what they had and especially what they didn’t have. I think my favorite character was Jamie. He felt stuck with his position in life and we got to know his true inner self. He will steal your heart.

If you love old castles and lots of descriptions. Stories that take place in Scotland and the people and their customs, you will definitely enjoy Jenny Cogan’s new book The Secret Christmas Library. I enjoyed the book for the most part and would still recommend it to my best friend. Until next time…Happy Reading!

Don’t forget to support the authors you love by leaving a review. I received a complimentary copy of this book from the author. The opinions I have expressed are my own and I was not required to write a review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

SYNOPSIS:

A new holiday story set in the Scottish Highlands to warm booklovers’ hearts by Jenny Colgan, New York Times bestselling author of Midnight at the Christmas Bookshop.

Mirren Sutherland stumbled into a career as an antiquarian book hunter after finding a priceless antique book in her great aunt’s attic. Now, as Christmas approaches, she’s been hired by Jamie McKinnon, the surprisingly young and handsome laird of a Highland clan whose ancestral holdings include a vast crumbling castle. Family lore suggests that the McKinnon family’s collection includes a rare book so valuable that it could save the entire estate—if they only knew where it was. Jamie needs Mirren to help him track down this treasure, which he believes is hidden in his own home.

But on the train to the Highlands, Mirren runs into rival book hunter Theo Palliser, and instantly knows that it’s not a chance meeting. She’s all too familiar with Theo’s good looks and smooth talk, and his uncanny ability to appear whenever there’s a treasure that needs locating.

Almost as soon as Mirren and Theo arrive at the castle, a deep snow blankets the Highlands, cutting off the outside world. Stuck inside, the three of them plot their search as the wind whistles outside. Mirren knows that Jamie’s grandfather, the castle’s most recent laird, had been a book collector, a hoarder, and a great lover of treasure hunts. Now they must unpuzzle his clues, discovering the secrets of the house—forming and breaking alliances in a race against time.

A treat for booklovers and treasure hunters alike, The Secret Christmas Library serves up a delicious mystery with a hint of romance, and plenty of holiday spirit!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Jenny Colgan (born in 1972 in Prestwick, Ayrshire, Scotland) is a writer of romantic comedy fiction, sci-fi and has written for the Dr Who line of stories. She writes under her own name and using the pseudonyms Jane Beaton and J. T. Colgan.

Bio from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

INTRODUCTION:

Crime, romance, and history converge in Marlene M. Bell’s Annalisse series, where priceless antiquities carry secrets powerful enough to change lives—or end them.

For antiquities appraiser Annalisse Drury, priceless artifacts often come with a hidden cost, and each discovery propels her deeper into a world where history and danger collide. Marlene M. Bell’s Annalisse series follows Annalisse across continents and into conspiracies that threaten not only her life but also her fragile, complicated romance with Alec Zavos, heir to a powerful family with secrets of its own. The series begins with Stolen Obsession, where Annalisse’s grief over her best friend’s murder leads her to cursed Persian jewelry tied to a string of deaths and a perilous alliance with Alec. In Spent Identity, she returns to her hometown in Upstate New York to face her aunt’s disappearance, a shocking corpse in the barn, and family secrets long buried. Scattered Legacy transports Annalisse and Alec to Italy, where Mafia conspiracies, embezzlement, and betrayal entwine with Alec’s late father’s reputation, forcing them into a labyrinth of lies. Finally, in Copper Waters, Annalisse flees to New Zealand in search of peace, only to find herself enmeshed in a small-town mystery of political corruption and suspicious deaths. Across all four novels, the series layers romance, international intrigue, and heart-pounding suspense, with twists that keep readers guessing until the last page.

EXCERPT:

STOLEN OBSESSION – Book 1 – Chapter Twenty

Waves spanked the thirty-nine-foot hull of the Gen Amore, rocking the Zavos vessel anchored in the Sea of Crete. The afternoon sun blazed overhead as Annalisse inhaled salty brine and studied the picture-perfect yacht Generosa had described dozens of times. Small enough for them to sail without a crew and large enough for she and Pearce to be intimately comfortable. The teak marine deck gleamed between twin masts, and navy-trimmed sails crackled from above. Wooden chairs were placed alongside lounges covered in striped cushions and square azure pillows. A fashion statement by the same designer who had decorated the yacht to match the island villa.

Sitting next to Generosa, Annalisse watched the rainbow windsock twist and swirl its streamers above their heads. She hadn’t counted on such a cool breeze and shivered in her one-piece swimsuit that exposed too much skin. She set her Mimosa on the side table and wiped her freezing fingers along the chair slats, dissipating some of the moisture.

On a diagonal from them, the men chatted, with Alec and Pearce gesturing with their arms as they talked about current events. It was easy to conceive how Generosa had fallen for a man like Pearce Zavos, currently barefoot in Bermuda shorts, and richly tanned everywhere. If Annalisse were several years older, a single man with Pearce’s attributes would’ve been irresistible to her, too. Pearce was the mature version of Alec with the same muscular physique, light eyes, and wavy hair graying at the temples. Where both of Alec’s cheeks were dimpled, Pearce had a single dent near the corner of his mouth and a super-cool cleft chin. Annalisse was a sucker for actors with cleft chins. They were aphrodisiac city.

Without a doubt, Pearce had to know the answer to how he’d ended up with a relic from the 1500s, and why two identical horsehead necklaces existed. Brushing off the notion a viable evilness had chased them to Greece, Annalisse planned to catch Pearce alone and ask a few generic questions any antiquities appraiser would ask the buyer of an important artifact.

“We’re a long way from shore. Shouldn’t I know how to use the ship’s radio?” Annalisse tossed her question out there.

“Gen knows, but I’ll show you too, if you’d like.” Pearce smiled. “Finish your drink. There’s plenty of time for how to use the radio and flags later.”

“Mr. Zavos, how did you and Gen settle on Sitia when the entire island is so lovely?”

“First, please call me Pearce.” He paused a few beats before answering. “I met Gen in Italy at the wedding of a mutual friend. Since her family fished the Adriatic, Gen admired the homes on the ocean. She’s an excellent swimmer, you know—loves the water as much as she loves me.” He winked at his wife. “My family vacationed in Sitia when I was a boy, and I promised myself that one day I’d buy a home that faced this sea. Gen was ecstatic about theidea.”

“After Dad retired as a stock car driver in North Carolina,” Alec added.

Pearce lolled his head back and watched the sail’s flap cutting the air. “I had to think about Alec. When I had a close call on the track, we decided it was time for me to get out.”

Alec shifted in his seat and looked at his mom. “Will Luciana be gone long?”

“She’s due back tonight.”

“The time to ourselves gave us a good excuse to run an errand in Heraklion City,” Pearce said.

“Who’s Luciana?” Annalisse slid her sunglasses on top of her head. “Sorry, dear. Luci is our villa maid and the daughter of a long-time friend. We wanted lots of playmates for Alec, but it wasn’t to be.” Generosa gave a wistful sigh and looked at Pearce. “God has a habit of testing us.”

Her heart wrenched at the truth in Generosa’s words, for Annalisse understood the pain in her voice. Little on earth hurt as badly than losing a child, her aunt had reminded Annalisse years ago.

Generosa had incredible mothering instincts, but Annalisse wasn’t hard-wired for kids. Small babies were too dependent, and their shrill cries made her nervous. Short of a miracle, having children wasn’t in Annalisse’s future, but she admired those who had the patience for kids.

“What’s wrong?” Alec looked at his father who’d started and stared at a section of water.

“Hand me the binoculars. Hurry.” Pearce pointed to a pair on the table next to Alec.

Annalisse observed a tiny black dot speeding toward them that carried the faint hum of a speedboat with it.

Pearce spent seconds with the binoculars, and for Annalisse, the wait for him to say something felt excruciating. She stood alongside the men to get a better look at the boat.

“Ladies, get below, now. And take the keys to the yacht with you. Hide them someplace where no one will find them, and hide yourselves,” Pearce said.

“Why?” Generosa asked.

“We may be getting unwanted guests.”

“You can forget it; I’m staying here.” Generosa planted hands on her hips in revolt.

“Same goes for me,” Annalisse added.

In less than a minute, a black boat filled with dark men closed on the Gen Amore. A red flag with a symbol fluttered ominously on the bow of their low-profile craft.

“Gen, Go. Hide That key,” Pearce hissed through closed teeth. “If you won’t stay down there, then come back, but hurry.” As if he’d changed his mind, he gave the binoculars to Alec. “I’m going below with your mother. Watch, but do not engage; wait for me.”

As the strangers steered closer, Annalisse noticed they were shaved bald, without beards, except for one person. A blue and white keffiyeh covered his head and most of the face from the bridge of his nose down. Her hands twitched, evoking the man from the brownstone, whose eyes were the only thing visible beneath his mask.

When the couple returned topside, Annalisse whispered to Generosa, “Where’d you hide it?”

“In a small vase. They’ll never find it.

”Annalisse sought out Alec and asked, “Any guesses who they are?”

“Not sure. Turkish, maybe.”“Are we accepting more refugees on Crete?” Generosa stepped toward Pearce.

“The men have rifles, which doesn’t bode well for us,” Pearce said. 

Annalisse’s stomach roiled with a vengeance. Against multiple weapons they were all in deep trouble, and wouldn’t be able to keep the men at bay for long—unless Alec’s dad was a well-trained sharp shooter.

“Did you leave the Glock on the island?” Annalisse asked in Alec’s ear, knowing he’d done exactly that by the way he held his mouth. “Why don’t we pull anchor and run?”

“Ladies, listen. They’re closing fast and we can’t outrun them. No matter what, don’t lead them to the key. On the black market, this yacht’s worth plenty. Say nothing. Do nothing,” Pearce said.

“Pirates.” Alec spat a quiet curse at the deck.

Annalisse and Generosa chimed together, “Pirates?”

“Or they could be refugees.” Pearce added the option, but Annalisse couldn’t imagine refugees would be heavily armed. When people left their countries, most came with children and the clothing on their backs— four men with guns weren’t seeking asylum.

Annalisse’s French toast was dangerously close to making a deck appearance.

Pearce slid a small pistol inside his belt at the back of his Bermuda shorts and dropped extra ammo in a pocket.

Alec hadn’t reminded her about the extra risks of sailing in the area. She’d forgotten how many were fleeing the region. Mentally, she envisioned a world map of Lebanon, Syria, Egypt, and Turkey bordering the eastern Mediterranean Sea. Émigrés fleeing bombs and homeland wars would possess rougher physical characteristics. The men in the boat had a smooth bone structure and rounded features.

As the boat sloshed water to the starboard side of the yacht, a male with two missing fingers hailed them.

“Do any of you speak English?” Pearce asked, three decibels louder than usual.

They glanced at each other and laughed. “We speak English good.”

“What do you want?”

The thinnest in the group, with arms and legs tattooed, brandished a sinister AK47 with a pistol grip at them. He held his weapon like he’d comfortably used it before.

Annalisse calmed herself, curious about the men’s tattoos. She noted their red shoulders from hours on the water, worsened by the ocean’s glare. They weren’t muscular men, rather a rag-tag crew of stringy characters with lifeless eyes and broken teeth.

“We need gas. Pay in gold.”

“No need for guns.” Pearce pointed to the man’s rifle. “I’ll give you what you want.” Then he added under his breath, “I have plenty of lead.”

Annalisse’s heart stopped when Alec jerked her behind him and whispered, “Shh.”

“Take the gas and leave.” Pearce’s tension wafted the deck.

“We come on boat. Put rope down so we board. Now!”

During the back and forth, the two most sunburnt marauders had slipped into the sea, clinging to their boat hooks, only feet away from the Gen Amore’s hull.

“We don’t want trouble. Stay in your boat. I’ll give you the supplies.” Pearce hugged the brass rail, his voice even and stern while he convinced the men to stay with their boat.

An object burned her lower spine, and Annalisse saw a shadow cross the deck.

“Alec!” she yelled.

The butt of a rifle struck Alec at the base of his skull, echoing over the water.

He collapsed in front of her in a motionless heap.

Two goons, wet with salt water, stood close enough for her to smell their dense body odor— so powerful, the ocean water hadn’t washed it away. Annalisse gulped, to keep down thevomit surging in her throat.

Someone yanked her hair hard, jerking her backward, stinging the scalp where fingernails dug and scratched.

Annalisse scanned for Generosa and Pearce, but the sun’s blaze overhead blinded her.

“Let me go. I have to help him.” Annalisse gritted her teeth and hitched forward while sending an elbow backward at her captor. She hoped to catch him off guard with the seesaw action and land near his genitals.

He yelped and released her.

Annalisse grimaced and grabbed her painful scalp, feeling hair missing, then scrambled toward Alec’s still body. His breaths were shallow ones, but he was alive.

“Where is boat key?” an accented voice asked her.

Annalisse shook Alec by the shoulders. “Wake up!” She rotated around and blurted, “I don’t know where the key is.” Her attention immediately went back to Alec. “Please open your eyes, hon.”

“Get away from them!” Pearce screamed.

Generosa shouted, “Watch out, Pearce!”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Marlene M. Bell is an award-winning author, artist, and photographer whose storytelling reflects her many creative talents. Her Annalisse series has been recognized with Best Mystery honors, the IPPY for Best Regional Australia/New Zealand, the Global Award for Best Mystery, and a Chanticleer International Mystery & Mayhem shortlist for Copper Waters. She also writes for children with Mia and Nattie: One Great Team!, a heartfelt picture book inspired by true events from her East Texas sheep ranch that celebrates unconditional love and belonging. Beyond her writing, Marlene is an accomplished artist and photographer, infusing her work with layers of creativity that resonate across genres and age groups. Connect with her through her website, Instagram, Facebook, and X.

Amazon: https://bit.ly/4mNJwsk

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/series/262904-annalisse-series

WRITING JOURNEY:

When I began to publish my work in 2009, I had no idea how intricate and complicated the writing process would be. The publishing world was brutal when I set out with an idea for a new novel. But first, I had to test the water with a silly little non-fiction book for our 4H lamb club…

The club asked me to write a primer on how to raise sheep—which I eventually accomplished over a two-year period. At that time, I wrote for families and people who knew me in the sheep world of raising club lambs. Friends and family were forgiving and supportive, and had given me a false sense of security about my abilities to explain what I’ve learned over twenty years with sheep. Writing is easy and so much fun, I used to say. Now that I’m about to publish my eighth book, reading is easy, but writing original fiction takes patience and loads of editing.

The 4H sheep book was a joy to write, I’ll admit. A great beginning for a new author writing fiction—it was not. My book adviser through Book Surge (Amazon’s publishing company at the time) expressed surprise at my switch from non-fiction to genre fiction. Actually, he was shocked. His reaction seemed strange to me at the time.

It wasn’t until I waded deep into the fiction process, that I understood my advisor’s gasp on the other end of the phone. The literary pool I’d fallen into had water in it way over my head. The research and years of studying various genres was arduous, and the harsh critiques I received from literary agents from online bootcamps stomped on my heart and broke my self-esteem. Writing is hard. It’s that simple. Writing fiction takes endless imagination and the ability to take everyday situations and twist them into excitement for a reader.

In 2018, Stolen Obsession, book one in the Annalisse series, went live in paperback and eBook. What a proud moment to finish my first novel after writing it for ten years. It was written as a standalone with the possibility to blossom into a carefully planned series because of so many plot points in the first drafts.

The Annalisse series adventures include an antique-loving amateur sleuth who can’t keep herself out of mischief, and villains who want to destroy Anna and Alec as a couple. Each novel enters various countries and subtly slides into different genres. The cross-genre books happened accidentally—but I’m thankful for the change in direction from my original idea of a straight romance. My comfortable niche is mystery.

Writing the first four books in the Annalisse series has taken me from romantic suspense, to romantic mystery, and finally into a new standalone thriller. Release date, spring of 2026. I’m excited about this one! Shh, more is coming soon.

Having Anna and Alec begin their dating experience while traveling exotic locales in the series sends readers to places most of us won’t visit in a lifetime. Writing in different genres allows me to reach a wider range of readers. Some of you have asked to hear more about Annalisse and Alec’s detective friend, Bill Drake… In upcoming book five, I’m taking a deep breath and sending the series in a new direction. Where? You’ll have to wait and see!

SYNOPSIS:

The rules of justice are changing, and in Serves You Right by Orion Gregory, one detective discovers that the truth may be deadlier than the crimes themselves.Sydney Livingstone thought her new role as a small-town officer would mean balance after years of pressure in professional tennis. But her life in Walsh County takes a sharp turn when The Enforcer—a faceless vigilante—launches a crusade against criminals and the very system meant to contain them. His attacks are brutal, his digital manifestos chilling, and his reach grows with each strike. Sydney suddenly finds herself not just on the case, but in the crosshairs.As trust inside the police department fractures and evidence points toward betrayal from within, Sydney must sift through secrets, lies, and the fear of those closest to her. All the while, a stalker shadows a veteran officer, the press swarms the community, and the body count climbs higher. To survive, Sydney must decide who to trust, who to doubt, and how to stay one move ahead of a predator who is always watching.

EXCERPT:

He looked over at Andrea, who was happily finishing a chili dog next to a side of circular, mangled fries. She was saying something about changing the drapes in the front window of her house, but Frank wasn’t listening.

His hamburger looked nauseating. Even the idea of taking a sip of beer made him want to vomit. The smell was now all-encompassing.

A pair of young boys chased each other, darting between tables. One bumped their table, causing some of Frank’s beer to spill.

“Undisciplined brats,” he muttered. “Can you imagine what kind of adults they’re going to be?”

Murderers? Spouse killers? There goes Sheila again, funneling bullshit into my mind.

“We were all there once,” said Andrea. “Just ignore them.”

Frank smiled, wondering how Andrea wasn’t overcome by the disgusting smell. “You know what, I’m not really hungry,” he said. “I’m going to throw this stuff out.” Distracted by the unpleasant odor, Frank forgot about the possibility he was being followed. He fell into line behind two teenagers who were attempting to shove their trash inside an overflowing receptacle. The park seemed to be growing more crowded by the minute.

The park noises consumed Frank’s thoughts. Ice cream machines revved crazily in a high pitch, barbeque grills hissed louder than usual, and soda machines buzzed. Kids squealed at their parents while nearby game operators hollered at customers to step forward and win prizes.

He glanced upward, noticing hot-air balloons in the distance, moving toward the theme park. They were decorated with bold, contrasting colors. The late afternoon sun cast its light onto them, creating a living rainbow of color in the open air.

Frank’s eyes honed on one particular balloon, a white teardrop with silver accents and a printed logo. Four passengers waved cheerfully at everyone below. He struggled to read all the letters, but his mind was quick to fill in the gaps.

Murderer.

Frank was now trapped by the growing crowd. They jostled him, making it impossible to breathe properly. If he had the military sword that he found in Afghanistan, he could clear a five-foot radius around himself with a 360-degree swing. And what was that stinging sensation near his spine? Had a bee or wasp stung him? Or did someone accidentally jab him with a plastic fork?

But the stinging sensation was less noticeable than the certainty that he was being taunted from the heavens by some bastard who had rented a hot-air balloon. How was that possible? Who would’ve even known he would be at this theme park at this exact time?

Frank saw Andrea walking toward him, carrying a hot-fudge sundae. “Surprise!” she said. “I bought you a little treat. I figured maybe some ice cream would stimulate your appetite.”

Andrea, he thought? Of course. She was the only person who knew they were coming here today. But she would never betray him, would she? Andrea had stood steadfast by his side for two years. Had someone gotten to her? Was she gaslighting him so she could end up with everything? No,that couldn’t be right.

Andrea handed the ice cream to Frank. “Have some,” she said. “It might make you feel better.” Why wasn’t she looking skyward? Playing coy? Perhaps. But then again, maybe someone else was behind all of this.

Frank let the sundae fall out of his hands. It struck the ground, cracking its plastic container and oozing white and brown onto the concrete.

“Shit, Frank. I just paid seven bucks for that. What the hell are you doing?” “Look up,” said Frank. “That white-and-silver balloon to the west. Tell me what you see.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s nice,” she shrugged. “They all are. Why are you acting so strange?” “Read the message on the balloon,” said Frank. “Tell me what it says.” Andrea squinted, looking upward. “I don’t understand why it matters, but I’ll give it a go. Um – it appears to be a moving and storage company, I think. Yes, ‘Furderer Moving and Storage.’ Now, why was that important enough to drop your ice cream?”

Furderer. Not Murderer? Shit. In all the hullabaloo of the last several years, Frank had neglected to update his contact lens prescription. “Andrea, I am so sorry,” he said. “For some reason, I’m not feeling well.” Perhaps it was the combined smells of the food court, or maybe it was something else. The stinging sensation on his back was now more painful.

“I think I need to find a place to sit. Andrea placed her hand on his shoulder and attempted to help him navigate through the tight crowd. In the distance, Frank could see a few vacant seats located around a water fountain. It looked inviting – water spraying upward in a fanning arc, sparkling in the sun’s reflection. He’d cool off near the fountain. Once he gathered his thoughts, they could leave and resume their romantic getaway. He grabbed Andrea by her outstretched arm and pulled her toward the fountain.

When he was only steps away, Frank collided with a distracted man – holding four large translucent cups of beer – coming from the opposite direction. The impact caused the man to lose his balance, sending the cups tumbling out of his hand and onto the ground.

The man turned to Frank, his face red with anger. “Watch where you’re going, asshole!” he shouted. “That’s $36 of beer you spilled. You’re either gonna pay me back, or I’m going to kick your ass and take the money out of your wallet myself.”

The stinging sensation seemed to be increasing by the second. He tried to focus on the man, but his vision blurred. The man leaned in, transferring saliva into Frank’s face as he continued his verbal barrage. Frank understood the most logical solution would be to remain calm and pay the man for the spilled beer, especially after the last two tumultuous years. But between the insult and challenge to his manhood, Frank certainly wasn’t going to back down now.

Frank’s tormentor was about 6’ 2” and would be fortunate to reach 160 pounds. He looked like someone who had experienced a few too many go-rounds with methamphetamines.  With Frank’s superior size and strength to go along with his hand-to-hand combat techniques, he knew he’d have this guy on the ground in a matter of seconds, begging for his life.

The man grinned, displaying two missing front teeth. His crooked nose had obviously been broken before. He sported a stained blue ballcap, a heavy-metal T-shirt, and his bluejeans displayed holes in the knees.

Andrea tugged at Frank’s shirt sleeve. “Let’s just go.”

Frank moved closer. “I give you one free shot,” he growled. “From that point on, I’m only defending myself.”

Frank held his hands low. Even a direct shot didn’t really concern him. He’d taken huge punches from some of the top instructors in the area during his martial arts classes. Surely, this guy wouldn’t even come close to matching them.

Frank suddenly was seeing two images of the man in front of him. And then three. The world was rotating around him like a turbo-charged merry-go-round. He no longer was thinking about moving his head at the sight of an incoming fist. He couldn’t focus his vision on any one thing. He could hear Andrea begging him to stop among the chats of a bunch of high school kids who were encouraging the other man to throw a punch. And the stinging pain in his back had become even more intense. He lost all feeling in his legs.

At the same time, the man barreled his head into Frank’s face. He heard laughing from above him. Everything was a blur. And still, there was that stinging sensation in his lower back. He heard Andrea scream. And then, Frank lost consciousness.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

For Orion Gregory, crime fiction has been a lifelong passion, first sparked by the puzzles of Agatha Christie. His career path led him through award-winning journalism, advertising, and sports writing, before decades of work in sales. Alongside his professional life, he raised a family with his wife, Fran, and coached tennis, a sport that sharpened his instinct for strategy—something he weaves into his thrillers. Now living in Southwest Ohio, Gregory creates stories that blend relentless suspense with human complexity.

IN HIS OWN WORDS:

I discovered writing as a kid and realized that I wasn’t too bad at it. I was always drawn towards mysterious stories, either in books or on television. I loved it when you didn’t know who the culprit was or why they were doing it. It was fun to watch those shows with others and take a poll on who we thought was the perpetrator.

In grade school, we had to complete projects and present them to the class. Never an artist by any means, I always opted to write stories and read them aloud. As an avid sports fan, I was always reading newspaper articles on every major sport and some off the beaten path. I remember informing my parents that I wanted to be a sportswriter.

So after graduating from college with a Communications Degree, I found a job at a small community newspaper in the sports department. I loved every minute of the job, despite working more than 50 hours a week. The problem was that the salary was so low, I couldn’t even afford to purchase a pair of jeans. When I finally saved up enough money to purchase an engagement ring for my wife, my bank account was never able to recover.

I left sports writing and worked in advertising for a few years. The pay was better but still stiflingly low. My wife and I wanted to have a family, and I felt it was better if we could actually FEED the kids. So that started a 25-year career in sales where I sold many different products for several companies, including pagers, computer supplies, credit card processing equipment, and finally janitorial supplies. It helped pay our bills, but my love for writing never left me. In fact, it called to me on a regular basis.

We saved our pennies and invested wisely. I was able to retire early. From that point, I declared that I would never do work again that I didn’t enjoy. So now I spend most of my time writing novels and coaching and teaching the sport of tennis.

My ultimate dream has nothing to do with making millions of dollars or achieving any sort of fame. But rather, if I could walk down a beach and observe vacationers reading and enjoying my novels, then I will have achieved my goal

SYNOPSIS:

What do you do when your dream opportunity becomes a waking nightmare? In The Standout, Laurel Osterkamp delivers a psychological thriller packed with paranoia, secrets, and emotional reckoning.

Robin Bricker joins The Standout, a ballet-themed fashion reality show, expecting drama—but she never expected to be targeted. A chilling email demands she end her engagement. Then, a website emerges to publicly humiliate her. As pressure mounts and sabotage intensifies, Robin struggles to separate friend from foe—and truth from fiction. With only her brother and a cautious new ally to turn to, she must confront long-buried memories before she loses her grip on reality.

INTRODUCTION:

Laurel Osterkamp is an award-winning author whose work spans psychological thrillers, romantic fiction, and literary women’s fiction. Her novels—The Side Project, Beautiful Little Furies, and Favorite Daughters—have been recognized for their emotional depth and smart storytelling. Laurel holds an MFA in writing and spent over twenty years teaching English and creative writing. Her characters often wrestle with identity, ambition, and the messy beauty of reinvention. She lives in Minneapolis with her family and two cats. Follow her on Instagram or visit her website.

EXCERPT:

The last time I saw my old sex-buddy Robert was years ago, when he ran from Clara’s tree house, but this morning he texts me with a picture attached. He’s sprawled on his bed, wearing nothing but a suggestive pose and a cowboy hat. What’s even more horrifying is the message: I’ve been thinking about you too.

Never mind how uncanny the timing of his text is. No. My first reaction is repulsion; how could I ever have slept with a guy who’d send a picture like this? The hat is so tacky! But after I get over his poor taste in accessories, I realize there are multiple reasons to be disturbed. The feathered cowboy hat is just the tip of the pornographic iceberg.

What if Nick had been around when I’d gotten that text? How could I possibly explain it away? And why did Robert decide to text me now, with everything else that’s been going on? It has to be more than a coincidence.

So I text him back. Can we talk? Today?

Sure, he responds, and sends me his work address.

His single-story office building is on the edge of downtown and I wait outside during lunch hour. At 11:52 I spot Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome walking out and heading straight forthe Jimmy Johns. I step into his path.

“Hi, Robert.”

His face has aged little in the last few years. Unlike Clara’s mother, Robert seems virtually unchanged by tragedy.

“Robin.” He smiles like he can picture me in nothing but a lacy thong. “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m fine, good actually. I’m getting married.” I dig my heels into the sidewalk and hug my arms to my chest. The wind whips through me, but I’ll make it clear: I do not want him warming me up. “I’ve never been happier and I can’t imagine EVER doing ANYTHING to jeopardize that.”

“Congratulations.” He tugs at his tie and the realization that I’m not going to sleep with him skips across his face. “Look, it’s great seeing you, but I’m pressed for time—”

“This won’t take long. I’m sorry to hear about Clara.”

Robert’s finely chiseled jaw goes rigid. “Thanks. But we separated years ago, pretty much right after she found out about you and me. I mean, it’s terrible that she’s missing, but—”

“Missing? Her mother said she’d died.”

“She’s presumed dead.” Robert’s nostrils flare but his shoulders sag. “Clara was traveling in Greece and there was a bus accident. Lots of bodies were burned. It was pretty gruesome. But they looked at dental records and her body was never found.”

“Oh.” Images flood my mind: a bus tumbling down a cliff and erupting into flames, Clara’s beautiful face melting in the ashes, or perhaps, Clara getting up and walking away?

Robert raises his hand as if to pat my shoulder but then he changes his mind. “Sorry, Robin. I really do need to go. Good luck with your marriage; I’m sure you’ll need it.”

He’s almost become a blur on the sidewalk before his comment sinks in.

What a jackass.

MOST ASKED QUESTIONS & ANSWERS:

What were the biggest rewards and challenges with writing The Standout?

Writing The Standout was both very rewarding and challenging for me. I was in grad school when I began, and two of the first courses I took were in flash fiction and in YA fiction. Flash fiction is all about using a brevity of words for a maximum impact, and leading your readers to a point where they can infer where a character is going on their journey. Several of The Standout’s chapters, especially ones from Ted’s POV, began as flash fiction assignments for that course. I would count how many words I’d written, trying to eliminate as many as possible to stay under the assignment’s limit. This really taught me a golden rule of writing, that often less is more. And, the YA fiction writing class was invaluable for me while writing from Zelda’s POV. At the same time, I felt challenged because I’d never written from a male point-of-view before, and it had been a long time since I’d attempted a teenager’s voice.

How did you research your book?

Just about all my research was done online. However, while I was researching The Standout, there was a show at The Walker (a modern art museum in Minneapolis, where I’m from) that was all about fashion. I went and bought a couple of books in the gift shop afterwards, which were a great reference when writing about Robin’s fashion design challenges. I also dug into my old childhood books to find this compilation of stories from classic ballets, like Swan and Giselle. I referenced it for the design challenges that Robin and Zelda were a part of, and for the condensed ballet stories that Zelda tells. But for everything about climbing roofs, parcour, and Ted’s private investigator course—that was all found via YouTube and Google.

Where do you write—home, coffee shop, train?

Occasionally, if I’ve dropped my daughter off somewhere far from home, and she’ll need a ride back in under two hours, I go to a coffee shop or a library to write. But it isn’t ideal for me. I like to write at home, where I can get up to get a snack or go to the bathroom, and not worry about leaving my laptop out. I also get distracted when people nearby are chatting or whatever. It’s nice to be in my own space, where I can play music and possibly pet my cat, who is my most loyal writing buddy

Exploring the Places That Inspired My Novel

I live in Minneapolis. Nearly twenty years ago, my best friend moved from California back to Kansas City (we both grew up in Lawrence, Kansas.) When she moved, we decided that once a year, we’d meet up in Des Moines, IA, which is almost equidistant from our homes. We’d book a hotel room, and spend uninterrupted time going for walks, talking about our lives, eating out, and drinking wine. This time with my friend is invaluable, but I also enjoy the alone-time that this trip affords me almost as much.

Because, I often get there first, just for the chance to explore a place where no one knows me, and where I can be invisible for a while.

So, over the years I’ve gotten to know Des Moines well. My favorite suburb is West Des Moines, home to Jordan Creek mall. The houses in that area seem nice, but not cookie-cutter, where they’re all built from the same design. West Des Moines is a suburb with sidewalks, trails, and parks. The backyards are spacious and there’s a ton of stuff nearby.

Thus, it’s no coincidence that Robin—the main character in three of my novels—is from Des Moines. So is her extended family. While my decision to put Robin in Des Moines wasn’t random, it wasn’t something I mulled over either. I’d already set a couple of novels in Minneapolis, and I wanted somewhere different, but also where I could write from an informed perspective. Des Moines seemed like the perfect spot, and now it almost feels like a second home.

Tomorrow, I leave on my annual pilgrimage to visit Des Moines and to see my best friend. It’s always one of my favorite weekends of the year! One of the first things I’ll do upon arriving is walk alone through West Des Moines’ neighborhoods. I’ll imagine Robin and her extended family living in the homes I go past, like they’re real people and I’m paying them a visit. (Or just peeking through their windows. Don’t worry—that part is all in my imagination!) It’s a wonderful chance to live inside my own head for a while, and explore a fictional life that might have been my own.

REVIEW:

The Hidden Daughter by Soraya Lane is the seventh book of The Lost Daughters Series. The series will consist of eight books and will soon come to a conclusion. Now is the time to start binge reading if that is what you like to do. I will be sad to see this series end. It has been very enjoyable. I think I have a couple of books to go back and read because life has gotten in my way a bit. Let me tell you what I love most about this  series.

First of all, each book is a story unto itself and can be read as a standalone book. The common thread is a little box of mementos that a mother has left behind for her daughter when she is grown. The daughters are ones that are adopted out because the mother was not able to care for their baby for one reason or another.

The second thing I like is that each book takes place in a different country. You get fabulous descriptions of the surroundings. You learn a little of the culture. I love learning about things in a fun way and this is definitely a fun way to learn a little bit of each country. This book was about Norway. That really grabbed my interest since my Grandmother was born there and came to the United States with her mother and sister when she was six years old.

The mother in this story is about Amelie and her daughter’s name is Aina. Charlotte is the character in the book that received the little wooden box and was prompted to go back home to Norway. She is Aina’s granddaughter. The chapters rotate between 1950 in Norway and the present day. This book tells the story of the whole family and what they have all been through in the last 75 years. It was so good and had me in tears more than once.

If you love wonderful family saga’s and travels to different countries, I highly recommend The Lost Daughter Series. The Hidden Daughter is one of my favorite books so far in the series. They certainly deserve a spot on your nightstand especially if you love Historical Romance. Until next time…Happy Reading!

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I received a complimentary copy of this book from #Soraya Lane, #Netgalley and #Bookouture. The opinions I have expressed are my own and I was not required to write a review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255.

SYNOPSIS:

Norway, 1951: ‘I need you to know how much I love you, Amalie. I never wanted us to be parted, and I will do whatever it takes to come back to you and our baby. Please wait for me.’

London, present day: Everything in Charlotte’s life is about to change. As she clutches a small box in her palm containing a diamond ring and a Norwegian crest, she knows she must return home to be reunited with her beloved great-grandmother Amalie and her Norwegian family.

Accepting her dream job as a head chef at Norway’s most prestigious hotel, Charlotte is welcomed by the hotel’s head designer, Harrison. For years, Charlotte sacrificed everything for her career. As she tours her new surroundings with Harrison, she soon starts to see a way of focussing on her heart too.

But when Charlotte takes the box to Amalie, everything Charlotte thought she knew about her family changes in an instant. As Amalie clutches the ring that she thought had vanished forever, she reveals a tragic love story and a precious secret that stayed buried for years.

When Charlotte discovers the huge sacrifice Amalie made to keep her family safe, will it give Charlotte the strength she needs to follow her heart? Or will she leave Norway forever?

An utterly heart-warming and stunning story about the importance of following your heart and never being afraid to find your new beginning. Perfect for fans of Santa Montefiore, Lucinda Riley and Victoria Hislop.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Soraya Lane graduated with a law degree before realizing that law wasn’t the career for her and that her future was in writing. She is the author of historical and contemporary women’s fiction, and her novel Wives of War was an Amazon Charts bestseller.

Soraya lives on a small farm in her native New Zealand with her husband, their two young sons and a collection of four legged friends. When she’s not writing, she loves to be outside playing make-believe with her children or snuggled up inside reading.

For more information about Soraya, her books and her writing life, visit sorayalane.com or http://www.facebook.com/SorayaLaneAuthor, or follow her on twitter @Soraya_Lane. She would love to hear from you.