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Tell us a bit about your family.
I have a wife of more than 24 years, and a son who just turned 13
How do you work through self-doubts and fear?
Day by day.
What scares you the most?
Anything negative happening to my family
What makes you happiest?
Watching people close to me, including my son and wife, succeed.
What’s your greatest character strength?
My loyalty to family and friends.
What’s your weakest character trait?
My loyalty to family and friends.
Why do you write?
For the rest, relaxation and enjoyment
James Crofter was ripped from his family at age 11.
Within a year the prince was a pauper in a foreign land.
Is nature stronger than nurture? And even if it is, can James find the happiness he so richly desires?
Genre - Historical Fiction, Romance
Rating – PG
And
today, of course, the sun was shining miserably on my head, as I
quickly headed for the oak-tree shaded bus stop. In my rush to get out
of the house, I’d forgotten to put on my dark sunglasses, but I dug them
out of my pack now, twisting around awkwardly as I made my way into the
comforting shadows. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Katie Parker
coming out of her house across the street.
“Great,”
I muttered under my breath. Placed beside Katie’s blonde, tanned
perfection, I looked all the more irregular. I tried to put on a happy
face anyway and be sociable, a definite struggle for me.
“Hi
Katie,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. I refused to
ever say ‘good morning,’ as I hated mornings and saw nothing good about
them whatsoever. I didn’t expect much in the way of a reply. Katie,
annoyingly perky in her cheerleading uniform, was miles away from my end
of the social spectrum. So, I was shocked when she turned her bright
blue eyes on me dazzlingly, and spoke to me in a way she never had
before this day.
“Hi Maura!” She was so chipper, it was stifling. “Beautiful morning isn’t it?”
I
wondered briefly what she would say if I shot back: “Actually, I like
the rain,” like I was thinking. I thought better of it and replied,
“Sure is.”
“Aren’t you excited about prom?” she bubbled.
Oh,
so that was it. She was overexcited about prom and probably just
needed an outlet for venting all her pent up enthusiasm. Prom was in a
few weeks and no one had asked me, not that I really wanted to go. The
thought of my pale shoulders exposed in some fancy dress made me
cringe. I tugged at the edge of one of my long sleeves unconsciously in
response.
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Maura’s life just can’t get any worse…or can it?
Isolated
and sheltered by her lonely mother, Maura’s never been the best at
making friends. Unusually pale with a disease-like aversion to the sun,
she seems to drive her classmates away, but why?
Even
her own father deserted her, and her mother, before Maura was born.
Bizarre physical changes her mother seems hell bent on ignoring, drive
Maura to fear for her own life. And her luck just seems to get worse.
Life
is about to become even more bewildering when her mother’s abrupt…and
unexplained…decision to move a country away sets off a chain of events
that will change Maura forever. A cruel prank turned deadly, the
discovery of love and friendship….and its loss, as well as a web of her
own mother’s lies, become obstacles in Maura’s desperate search for a
truth she was never prepared to uncover.
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Genre – YA Paranormal Romance
Rating – PG
pages 71 – 73 of The House by Sebastiana Randone
One
day, not long after Percy had discovered the truth of his birth, he
accidentally stumbled upon a journal that he had inherited
following Lady Elizabeth’s death. It had been lying in wait somewhere
forgotten, amongst many other objects. With its very existence having
faded from his memory, it took him aback that this diary should
suddenly appear, particularly during such a momentous period. So with
the guilty fascination of a voyeur, he opened the aged book. Most of
what was written offered Percy no significant insight, then with the
fading of the afternoon light, and just when he was about to close the
journal, he came upon the following passage:
Today having woken to another dark and foreboding morning. I found myself in a situation by day’s end that in all my too brief life never happened upon. We had a visitor. Uninvited, there she lay, fear stricken, wildly presented and most mysteriously, of a name that alarmed me, by its reference to darkness. By night’s entrance, I was inclined towards the belief that the devil himself had orchestrated provocation on a house already burdened by much dispiritedness.
Well there was the proof! All ambiguity had suddenly dissolved with this one passage.
Some
days later Sammy had made good his word, and arrangements were made for
a fortune teller to come to Alderry Place. The friends, who naturally,
had invited themselves along, were irresistibly compelled to be audience
to this most unprecedented happening.
Percy however, felt no such
keenness, due mainly to a delicate mental state which rendered the poor
man hesitant lest any further revelations should arise. To
the collective however, this imminent occasion lent a theatrical flavour
to their reality, the confounding and abstruse nature of Scura’s
manifestation had certainly brought renewed animation to all.
It
was on a moonless night when the fortune teller Luna Llena arrived,
bringing with her an air of inscrutability, in the form of a solemn and
shrouded figure clad in dark earthy shades. Of an indeterminable age,
her sombreness was intensified by dark and ancient eyes, and with a
bearing that exemplified the archetypal mystic, there was promise at the
very least, of an eventful soiree.
Sammy
had found her practicing her craft on the streets of London, and
rapidly made arrangements for her to visit Alderry Place, where now,
candles and incense added a mystical tone, while a table dressed in
indigo velvet, was primed for the impending spiritual consultation.
Earlier
that day, Scura had felt an extreme aversion to the thought of
partaking in this paranormal scrutiny. In fact, it anguished her
such that she remained in her room. Adeline now entered and upon seeing
the downcast girl, sat beside her and said in an upbeat tone:
“Darling
you are still here. Why don’t you join us? She has arrived.” She placed
her arm around Scura, in the hope of drawing her out
from introspection. Adeline who in contrast, was feeling loquacious
declared; “You won’t believe her name.”
Scura
looked up at her mirthful friend and shrugged her shoulders. “Luna
Llena! Can you believe that? It is wonderfully befitting. Full moon!
That’s what her name means.”
“Yes I know it is Spanish.” Scura replied nonchalantly.
“Oh
sweetie, do come and join us.” Adeline goaded Scura while she sat on
the bed, continuing to embrace her dispassionate friend.
“Why are you so concerned? I recall you telling me that you did not believe in spirituality.”
“Yes,
I’m aware of that. But then again how can I believe anything anymore!
With all that has happened, it is now highly illogical of me to hold on
to these tenets.” Scura glumly stared at the floor. “I have felt
more tranquil this month than I have for a long while, and I fear that
something outrageous will be disclosed and anxiety will reign once
more.”
It
is true to say that since that astonishing revelation, Scura
had managed to settle into a residence that was hospitable, beautiful
and populated with affable people. This was especially the case with
Adeline, with whom she had developed a warm and close amity, almost
bordering on sisterhood.
Unfortunately,
these amicable feelings were not felt towards Sammy however, an uncouth
and ribald character who repelled Scura. It seemed incomprehensible
that a refined and sophisticated individual such as Percy should be
enamoured with such a coarse and devious scamp. It was patently obvious
that Sammy was taking advantage of the poor man and was visibly detached
from his affections.
Having
noticed Sammy’s salacious attentions towards her, prompted Scura to
speak to Adeline about this unwanted attention, only to be informed that
he was here as an expedient only. That he had been witnessed flirting
with wealthy older women, and it was common knowledge that he desired a
more ‘conventional’ arrangement. Disinclined towards male partnering,
Sammy was only planning on being at Alderry Place until such a time that
he might entice a lonely and prosperous widow.
Not wishing heartbreak upon Percy, Scura felt extremely vexed by this knowledge.
“Why don’t you tell Percy of this?”
“He knows.” Adeline stated in a matter of fact tone.
“He knows? Then why doesn’t he send him away? It is obvious that Sammy does not share the same feelings.”
“It is a long story my dear girl, do you really wish to hear it?”
“I suppose I do, then again, perhaps not.”
“All in good time, sweetie, all in good time” She replied, while stroking Scura’s hair.
The
two women had formed an emotional liaison. Adeline, a committed
Sapphic, had by now fallen in love, while Scura, disinclined towards
such an association, was nevertheless still comforted by her friend’s
geniality and fondness.
The House is an adult fairy tale rich in mystery and intrigue.
Here
is a tale of a woman so absorbed with historical novels that her own
reality ceases to offer any hope of romance and beauty.
Until
one day this dreamy idealist finds herself in a mysterious forest. How
she arrived there is unknown. Soon she encounters a dilapidated house,
within whose ancient walls magical rooms that transport to parallel
worlds lie in wait. There she is transmigrated to 18th century England,
where our heroine interacts with an odd mix of characters whose
dysfunctional lives become immediately apparent.
Her
first tribulation involves a nefarious lord, an archetype of the
monstrous characters one encounters in fairy tales. The ramification
from this confrontation sets the tone for the narrative.
A
magic portal finally enables escape from the austere Georgian dwelling.
She is then spirited back to the enigmatic house, and a journey to
Regency London follows, where a large cast of eccentric identities
present themselves.
Late
one night, following a long stay in Florence, a young, heart-broken
poet arrives. His introduction to the beautiful time traveller offers
promise of restoration and love. But there are several more obstacles
ahead before her destiny in this curious adventure is made apparent.
In
the end an unexpected twist is revealed. But like all good fairy tales,
this surprising conclusion is pleasing, even though the means of
getting there are dark, and at times sinister.
Genre - Historical, Fantasy, Romance
Rating - PG-16
My mind is like my office, cluttered with creativity. On one wall are two sets of book shelves sweeping the ceiling. A few of the shelves are filled with papers scribbled with writing for various books that will one day be written. There is one shelf reserved for notebooks where each notebook contains notes or writing for a particular book. I have piles of notes on the table next to me. These piles are for my current book I’m working on and for my next book.
I believe the mind has more than one subconscious. My theory is that the brain has a layer of them and I have a subconscious for each book I plan to write or have partially written. For me, writer’s block doesn’t exist. If I get stuck, I simply forget about it, knowing that the next morning, the writing will be there. My subconscious has written it while I was sleeping.
There are two times my mind likes to write. One, of course, is when I’m sitting in front of the computer deliberately writing but never forcing the words. The second time is, sometimes, when I’m relaxed. I’ll be at my Zumba class exercising and suddenly my subconscious will start writing. Dialogue or narration comes spilling out. Sentences, paragraphs, or plot will disappear if not put on paper as soon as possible. My mind only comes up with it once and then moves onto another part of the book.
When I go out to eat, I often have to write on napkins because my mind decides to become creative in the middle of a chicken salad sandwich.
I have piles of scribbling. I try to get organized and write in a notebook. I’ve got two notebooks laying around with writing for my current book. I have ten notebooks dedicated to future books with scribbling that came out as fully-written prose.
When I begin a new book, I go through the scribbling to find what’s already been written. Sometimes it’s dialogue or prose, or plot, or character development, or a sketchy outline of the story. Often it’s the ending of the book or the beginning.
My brain, also, likes to write when I’m driving. I’ve had to pull into parking lots to scribble on pads of paper. This doesn’t happen often any more since I no longer have to commute to a job but write full time. I once tried a tape recorder, but a different part of the brain does speech. As soon as I open my mouth, the writing vanishes from my subconscious, and I can’t remember a word or what it was even about. But if I write with my subconscious, the words flow.
When I’m trying to go to sleep, my mind will start writing occasionally. I have to keep getting up and scribbling on the notebook I keep on my nightstand. I sometimes finally tell my brain to shut up so I can sleep.
If I’m beginning a new book, my brain will go nuts and the words and voices spill out like a fountain.
The last thing Miranda ever expected was to see her brother’s ghost at the fallen Twin Towers.
It’s bad enough survivor Christopher Michaels scares her with claims that if one dies violently, his ghost will haunt the place that holds his name. And to top it all, one of those thousands of ghosts follows Miranda to her hotel. The only certainty is the ghost grabbing her under the covers is not Jake.
Their parents’ deaths separated Miranda from Jake when they were kids. Michaels insists Jake brought them together and it’s no coincidence that of thousands mourning at Ground Zero, it’s his best friend she bumps into. Some best friend. Michaels is more like a moocher. The cheapskate never has money, just a blood-stained wallet he broods over. Miranda has no choice but to hang out with the weird Michaels in order to unravel her brother’s past.
As Miranda spends time with Michaels, she begins to wonder who he really is. Against her better judgment, Miranda becomes emotionally entangled with Michaels, a bitter alcoholic with a secret linked to her brother and that blood-stained wallet.
I Will Always Love You is part mystery, suspense and romance, a novel that will keep the reader turning the pages!
Genre – Suspense, Mystery, Romance
Rating – PG
“Guys, would you excuse me for a moment. Daphne teased biting her lower lip in an adorable half smile. Jack, I’ve got something to show you.” Her voiced pitched as she trained her pretty eyes toward mine anticipating my reaction.
“Nice, Honey. While you’re out there…tell the V.P.—we’ll meet with her on Monday.”
“Are you sure, Jack?” Locking eyes, “Your Mondays are always so full?”
“Sweetie, just fit her in the best you can—between something else – we might as well get it over with. Ten minutes tops.”
Daphne leaned into my side to whisper, “Okay, I’ll be right back,” I couldn’t see them, but I imagined her raising her perfectly brushed brows. She leaned in closer, her pretty voice got softer, “With a surprise – I’m just dying to show you the dress I bought for the wedding.” Her breasts and tummy pressed against my arm as she tenderly whispered the words.
“How’s that a surprise if you told him?” Alyson asked freshly. “I heard you.”
Daphne was generous with her touch and rubbed into me. I’ve never met a girl more comfortable in her own skin. Placing one hand firmly on my leg, she squeezed, delicately leaving the chair, before performing her usual sexy slink toward the door. This girl couldn’t help being beautiful!
Alone together, Alyson piped up, “That’s why woman hate her, Jack.” She added shaking her head gently against my chest, “That walk – it’s like she’s always trying to turn you on. Every minute she’s around you – she never let’s up. She’s so competitive – do you see it? And,—thatvoice – nobody talks like that!”
I put both arms around Alyson and held tighter to reassure her, “Honey, – this job would kill me if I didn’t have you girls to take the edge off.” She seemed satisfied to hear me excuse Daphne’s sultry antics. We sat quietly a moment before she started fidgeting with the ends of her dress.
“I’m sorry, Jack – you must think I’m just as bad the way my dress is riding up. It’s so short to begin with – I wore it for you.”
“Don’t ever worry about me, – you’re a wonderful distraction.”
“You know what – the heck with it then, I’ll just let it ride up so you can see the tops of my thighs.” She giggled.
“They’re beautiful. I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”
Alyson snuggled closer, getting more comfortable, “Really, Jack? It’s my body and I want you to see it. For that matter these are my lips,” I felt a trace of lip-gloss, scented cherry.
“My mouth wanted to kiss you.”
“Yeah?” I said a bit too softly, wishing I’d said it in a deeper tone. Rubbing her arms, feeling tender towards her. “It’s sort of funny, your body does whatever it wants.”
She giggled and smiled, “I guess.”
“Okay, I’m good, Sweetie.”
“Hey, Jack? What ever happened to Elsa?” Changing the subject.
“Elsa? We located her shoes. We found them in a Greek brothel. The girl that had them told our crew Elsa was auctioned off to a Saudi Sheik.”
“Oh my God.” Alyson covered her mouth.
“No, that’s good news because chances are she’ll still be alive when we go get her.”
“You’re going after her?”
“We sure are. Tip has your dad training on weapons and systems right now. It’s going to take him a few days to get him back up to speed. He’s been out of commission for a while, but as soon as he is ready he’s heading over there to rescue her.”
“Jack, do you think the sheik will just hand her over?”
“No, it’s going to be messy, we’ll have to wreck the place, but we’re sending a message. The only thing that matters is that Elsa will be coming home. And, girls like her will be safe. We’re going to stop human slavery once and for all.”
“What about in the U.S., Jack?”
“Here it’s a different story – we need to beef up law enforcement. We already have the means to stop trafficking, but it’s been allowed to go on.”
“Why?” Alyson asked in disbelief.
“Tip would be angry for me telling you – for your own sake, Sweetheart—you really don’t want to know…” Just as I was about to spill it—Daphne saved me from having to explain any further. Sauntering in wearing a peach form fitting tube dress—flattering her knock out figure to lengths I hadn’t ever allowed my mind to go. All-over- glitter silver stilettos shining over glossy black platforms gave her a statuesque long-legged appearance. She made her way toward me stopping short in the middle of the room. Daphne had a way of making love with her eyes.
Two months have passed since the long awaited inauguration of the New President of the United States – Jack Canon. Now he must live up to his promises. The World is wounded, people are hurting, the new President must keep the country afloat. Jack leads a very full life – The first couple’s relationship is hot with passion, but he can never admit that to Sandy, his best friend who is also head over heels in love with him. The Women of the House provide a welcome distraction while helping with the arduous task of running the country.
As President Jack must make tough decisions: Global Terrorism, Human Trafficking, Korea on the brink of war, all while thwarting International Greed. Women of the House is a story of noble sacrifice at extremely high cost. Who’s going to be the first to be strong enough and willing to pay? It’s not all work in Women of the House – Think the Wedding of the Decade meets the Crime of the Century.
Jack Canon’s Women of the House, is a story filled with Love, Lust, and Loyalty where passions can run wild! In Sandora’s monumental sequel, patriotism and valor mingle with an undying love that refuses to quit. Ride along as Jack Canon fights back against the most evil people on the planet. Readers are sure to embrace this unforgettable tale which will appeal to fans of political adventure, suspense and romance alike. Jack Canon’s Women of the House is a story of kindness, passion and courage that can’t be separated.
Genre - Romantic Thriller
Rating – PG-13
What’s your favorite place in the entire world?
Disneyland. I love it and every year I pack up my kids and we spend a week there. Next to that it’s the Gulf Islands, each one is a jewel, and absolutely unique.
When and why did you begin writing?
For me, I have a need to write. I had always journaled. But never sat down to write a story. I am and always have been an avid reader. I devour books. And it was in 2003 I had this dream abut story and I sat down and started writing. I don’t know how long it took me but every morning before my children were awake I would be up two to three hours before them just writing.
How long have you been writing?
I began my writing career in 2003, that’s when I sat down to write my first novel. Now getting published is a different story, I didn’t receive an offer for publication until 2008.
What genre are you most comfortable writing?
It’s a tie really between Western Romance and Romantic Suspense.
What inspired you to write your first book?
I had a dream. Seriously, I did. It was this story and then I had a need to write it. Everyone morning I got up really early before my kids were awake and I wrote the story. It was then titled The Captain’s Lady, the publisher made some changes,but I received the rights back and with the help of my editor I rewrote the book, gave it a brand new title, and I believe now it’s a stronger story.
It is vital to get exposure and target the right readers for your writing, tell us about your marketing campaign?
Yes absolutely. You have to understand your genre first. And then find the readers. Blog tours, ads on relevant sites for your books genre, book blasts, ads on goodreads.
How often do you write? And when do you write?
I try to write every day, and always in the morning. Unfortunately as of late though I am getting only about five mornings to write.
Do you have an organized process or tips for writing well? Do you have a writing schedule?
You have to be organized to write. I am a single mother so I really have to organize, and be fiercely protective of my writing time. Every morning I write. I do not schedule meetings, appointments anything in the mornings if it can be helped. And I’ve had to tell people no, do not phone, drop by or anything in the morning, unless it is an emergency. And I try to write ten pages a day in that time, most days I can do it.
Have you met any people in the industry who have really helped you?
Yes I have. I have teamed up with an amazing group of authors some formerly traditionally published, and all using the Amazon platform and cross promoting each other. The one thing about our group, we play to win. Everyone is driven, succcessful, and some amazing authors. Two mentions are Carolyn McCray and Taylor Lee, there are many others behind the scenes as well, but Carolyn and Taylor have been two key authors in my success and have shared so much valuable information to stay at the top of my game.
What do you hope people will take away from your writing? How will your words make them feel?
I always hope that first and foremost that people will enjoy my stories. And for them to feel the emotion and injustice in the story my characters are living. Everyone is going to take something different away, they will either love or hate my characters. But the one thing I want people to feel good.
How do you tell a man there is something wrong with his child?
This is by far one of the best books I have read. Lorhainne Eckhart proved herself yet again by pulling you in with a heartfelt story and keeping your attention with the passion that fills the pages. ~ ROMANCE JUNKIES
A Real Tear Jerker: Omg, I loved this book. I stayed up all night trying to finish it. I cried, My heart broke, I have an 18 year old with autism. This would make a fabulous movie... Tammy
Overview:
He wasn't looking to love again. But what he got was a woman who shook his lonely bitter world upside down, and touched him in a way no other woman could.
Emily Nelson, a courageous young mother, ends a loveless, bitter marriage and strikes out on her own. She answers an ad as a cook and live-in caregiver to a three-year-old boy on a local ranch. Ranch owner Brad Friessen hires and moves in Emily and her daughter. But Emily soon discovers something's seriously wrong with the boy, and the reclusive, difficult man who hired her can't see the behavior and how delayed his son is. So Emily researches until she stumbles across what she suspects are the soft signs of autism. Now she must tell him, give him hope, and help him come to terms with this neurological disorder--to take the necessary steps to get his child the help he needs.
As their lives become intertwined, their attraction is unavoidable--a connection sparks between them. But just as they're getting close, Brad's estranged wife, Crystal, returns after abandoning the family two years earlier. Among the shock and confusion is one disturbing question Brad can't shake: How does Crystal know so much of his personal business, the inner working of the ranch, and Emily's relationship with his son?
Crystal must've had a plan, as she somehow gains the upper hand, driving a wedge in the emotional bond forged between Brad, Emily, and the children. The primary focus for care and therapy of three-year-old Trevor is diverted. The lengths to which Crystal will go, the lies, the greed, just to keep what's hers, are nothing short of cold and calculating. Emily's forced out of the house. Brad fights to save his boy, to protect what's his, and struggles over his greatest sacrifice--Emily, and the haunting question: Has he lost her forever?
More Praise for THE FORGOTTEN CHILD...
"Brilliant, there is no other word for it, heart grabbing, heart warming, gut wrenching, well written well researched, wanted to read it over & over again." Amazon Reviewer – Maureen
BLACK RAVEN'S REVIEWS - Ms. Eckhart has crafted a delightful story with engaging characters, enough drama for a Hallmark movie, and enough unconditional love to last a lifetime. ~Rated 5 Ravens and a Recommended Read by AJ!~
READERS FAVORITE *5 Star Review A real page turner ~ fast moving plot ~ a must read!
Reviewed by Brenda C. For Readers Favorite
I didn't expect I'd fall for the four main characters as hard as I did, but The Forgotten Child is an amazing book, not just for a romance fan like myself, but for single parents who may or may not have a child with autism. ~ Reviewer ~ Adria
Genre – Contemporary Western Romance
Chapter Four
The Majestic rose up out of the water in its Liverpool dock with all the glory of its name. Amelia held one hand to her hat and stared at its iron sides, its two dun-colored funnels and three tall masts.
The ship was a strange thing to her, a mixture of old and new, progress with hints of the past. It had sails that could be unfurled in a pinch, but with its powerful new engines, the ship could cross the ocean in a week.
Seven days to a new world. It was an exact description of everything her life had become. It was every bit as daunting.
“What am I doing?” Amelia whispered, staring at the hopeful monstrosity in front of her. It was one thing to accept an offer for a new life. It was another thing entirely to go through with it.
She turned away from the ship, swallowing the nausea that had plagued her since she’d left her mother’s house. This time it wasn’t morning sickness. That was long past. At the moment, the baby was the least of her worries. Her stomach rolled over the idea that she was about to board a ship heading for a new life at the mercy of a stranger, a man, no less. The last time she had trusted her life and her future to a man had been a disaster.
She paced, purse clutched to her chest, scanning the busy dock in search of her American savior.
Men, women, and children crowded the gangplanks, eager to start their journeys, excited and hopeful. Many of the third-class passengers carried bundles that indicated theirs was a one-way trip as much as hers was. Eric had left her there to go buy her ticket, but there was nothing stopping him from running off and leaving her stranded. Like her father. Like Nick. She was a fool to agree to this. She pivoted and marched away from the ship.
No, she stopped herself after a handful of steps, this was the best decision she could have made. She may have felt small and lonely standing by herself, waiting, heart and stomach fluttering, but she was as much a part of the intrepid adventurers seeking a new life in America as any of her fellow passengers. This was right.
Maybe.
“Well, we got a minor problem on our hands.”
The twang of Eric’s accent shocked Amelia from her worries. She spun to face him as he approached her with wide strides, scratching his head and looking as guilty as a schoolboy.
“A problem?” she asked, voice fluttering.
“Yeah. I went to buy you a ticket, but they’re plumb sold out.”
Amelia’s chest tightened and her tender stomach lurched. “Oh. Oh dear. Well I suppose….”
She lowered her eyes, heart aquiver. As quickly as it started, her chance for a new life was over. All
that worrying for nothing.
She squared her shoulders to face her fate. “I … I thank you for your efforts on my behalf regardless, Mr. Quinlan.”
Eric’s brow crinkled into a curious frown. “Regardless?”
“I suppose I could find work here in Liverpool,” she explained. “Surely there must be a shop somewhere that would look the other way from….” She lowered her hand to the mound of her stomach.
Eric’s lips twitched. The morning sunlight caught in his eyes. “I didn’t want to have to put you in third-class, so I told them you were my wife.”
Amelia blinked. “You what?”
“I told them we’re newlyweds. I reserved my stateroom in first class last year when I came over. Good thing I paid for it then too, ‘cuz after this fiasco of a trip I’ll never ride first-class again. Anyhow, when they said they didn’t have any more rooms, I told them you were my wife and that we would be staying in the same stateroom. They sold me a ticket for that.” He handed her a fresh, clean ticket with her name written as ‘Mrs. Amelia Quinlan’. “Sorry.”
Amelia held perfectly still on the outside, but on the inside her heart pounded and her stomach rolled with guilt for questioning him. He wasn’t abandoning her. He had gone out of his way to help her. Her heart squeezed as it never had before. She took the ticket from him with a trembling hand, hardly noticing when her fingers brushed his. She was rescued after all.
“Thank you, Mr. Quinlan. You have no idea how much this kindness means to me.” She had to concentrate on breathing, standing straight, and looking up into his handsome eyes with a smile to keep her tears at bay.
“You don’t mind sharing then?” he asked her.
Genre – Western Historical Romance
Rating – R
Tate surprises Kenzie by showing up on her doorstep late one afternoon… Standing on her front step, he rang the bell and listened to her footsteps hurrying toward the door. The smile on her face forced him to catch his breath.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” Kenzie asked, kissing his cheek then stepping aside so he could come in out of the cold.
Curiosity got the best of her when he stood staring at her, his good hand still behind his back. Trying to look around him, he turned so she couldn’t.
“What are you hiding?” she asked, her eyes warm and inviting when he stepped inside and nudged the door shut behind him with his boot.
“I couldn’t help but notice you’re missing a very important component of proper Christmas décor,” Tate said, sounding all knowing and official.
“What could I possibly be missing?” Kenzie asked, looking behind her and sweeping her arm toward the living room that did look particularly festive, thanks in part to Tate. “I’ve got a poinsettia, a beautiful Christmas tree, garlands, pine boughs, sugary treats, and a blazing fire. Did you bring me some chestnuts to roast? If you did, I’ve got no clue what to do with them, so you’re out of luck.”
Laughing, Tate raised his arm and held a bunch of mistletoe over their heads. “It seems to me this is the most important decoration of all.”
“Possibly,” Kenzie said, reaching out and looping her arms around Tate’s neck, pulling his head down to hers. Teasing and gentle at first, their kiss soon gained momentum until he dropped the mistletoe on the table near the door and she pressed as close against him as his thick coat would allow.
Taking a breath, she quickly unfastened the snaps on his coat and slid it off his shoulders, carefully over his injured arm, until it dropped to the floor. He tossed his hat on the little chair Kenzie kept by the door while a groan escaped his throat. He took in every feature of her face, the mouth-watering summery fragrance surrounding her, and the softness of the hot pink sweater she wore. Her favorite color currently matched the shade of her flushed cheeks.
Lowering his head to hers again, Tate wrapped his good arm around her waist and slowly backed her toward the living room without breaking the connection of their lips.
“I missed you,” he whispered against her mouth as he carefully guided her to the couch. When her knees connected with the edge, she sank down on the soft cushions, still holding onto Tate. He went down with her, ravishing her neck with sizzling kisses that made her whisper his name in a throaty tone, sending blood surging through his veins.
Genre – Romance (contemporary western)
Rating – PG
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