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Warm Up Your Nights with Alpha Revealed, a #SteamyParanormalRomance by Brenda Sparks

Alpha Revealed

Alpha Revealed by Brenda Sparks

Vlad is a man of many secrets. Natasha has a little secret of her own.
But secrets have a way of coming out…and
sometimes that is for the best.

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Author: Brenda Sparks

**Special Note!**
Alpha Revealed is the 5th book in my Alpha Council series, it can be read as a stand-alone novel. But for those who enjoy reading a series from start to finish, my publisher put the other books in the series on sale until March 27 for only $0.99 each. That means the entire series (all 5 novels) can be purchased for less than $9.00.

Book Blurb:
Natasha Peterhoff is the luckiest vampire in the world. Having pined over the sexy, but aloof Vladimir Starikovich for centuries, her feelings are reciprocated when the pair are drawn to each other the night of her brother’s wedding. Unfortunately, the stark light of day dawns, and the couple parts ways.

Back in Siberia, Vlad is overcome by doubts. Not only will Natasha’s brother kill him, but his own past is reason enough to keep her away. He vows to do everything in his power to keep her safe, even it if means never seeing her again.

With so many reasons to stay apart, will the ties that bind be strong enough to pull them together?

Buy Links:
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BookBub
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Alpha Revealed by Brenda Sparks

Book Excerpt:
She lifted one arm in his direction. He raised a hand to still her movement. “Don’t…touch me.”

Well, damned if that didn’t smart. He didn’t want her to touch him, even to offer him a little comfort. My, how things changed. He certainly hadn’t minded her touch the night of her brother’s wedding.

Fine. If he doesn’t want me touching him, so be it.

Natasha turned around, sending her harlequin colored pigtails twirling about her face and retrieved the bag of blood from the floor. Without looking in his direction, she stalked through the room and sat in the only padded chair. She punctured the bag with her fangs and drank, glaring at him over the top of the bag.

The blood seeped into her cells, nourishing both her and the baby. The baby moved as she continued to down the bag quickly. Her hunger pangs eased a little with each gulp of the life-sustaining liquid.

Vlad slowly straightened to his full height. The expression on his face, a cross between disdain and pain, softened her eyes. With an awkward gait, he gingerly moved in her direction.

“We need to talk,” he barked, his voice still rough with pain.

She just bet they did. No doubt, Vlad would tell her to leave. It was there on his face. He obviously didn’t want her in his home, and she didn’t blame him.

She had run out after they made love, avoided him for months, and now she had injured his manhood. If the tables were reversed, she probably wouldn’t want him around either.

Alpha Revealed by Brenda Sparks

Author Bio:
Born in Virginia, Brenda Sparks now resides in the Sunshine State. Balancing her professional commitment to the local school district with her writing is challenging at times, but writing suspenseful paranormal romance is a passion that won’t be denied. Her idea of a perfect day is one spent in front of a computer with a hot cup of coffee, her fingers flying over the keys to send her characters off on their latest adventure. Brenda loves to connect with readers. Please visit her online or stop by her website to say hi.

Author Links:
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Twitter Handle @brenda_sparks
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Alpha Revealed by Brenda Sparks

What’s in a dress? #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

Blurb:
Your Desire by Dee S. KnightYour Desire. A mysterious shop appears in town for one reason: to bring the spice of passion and the thrill of love to one special person. Magic is in more than the item purchased—it’s in the heart of the buyer, often hidden, usually surprising. And after enchantment takes hold ad the fantasy is fulfilled? The store fades from sight and memory, only to reappear somewhere else. Maybe in your town…?

The Artist and the Director
Derica Meadows, the conservative Director of Accounting at a large San Francisco firm, sees the most beautiful dress imaginable in a shop window. So different from her usual genderless pant suits, she’s swept into acquiring the gown for a formal business affair the next night. But a funny thing happens on the way to her party, in the form of a compelling man and a photo shoot. Suddenly, the normally logical Derica finds herself swimming in a sea of romance and sexual freedom she’d never before considered. The hunk of an artist can satisfy her fantasies, but what will happen to her climb up the corporate ladder in the process? And to her heart?

Buy link:
Amazon KU

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:
Your Desire. The name was painted on the door in simple block print. She pulled the handle and stepped into the cramped store, where she came face to face with an older, prim man in a well-worn suit. Gray touched his temples but not his thin moustache. His dark brown eyes warmed her to her core, and she felt immediate trust in him.

The shop didn’t inspire such trust, however. It was on the shabby side of shabby-chic, and like the man’s suit, had seen better days. That explained why she hadn’t noticed the place before—it wasn’t the sort of establishment in which she usually shopped.

“May I help you?” the man asked.

She turned toward the window display. What the hell! The effect remained the same. The satin seemed to change shades of purple depending on her position. One way she noticed the beads, another she saw the pearls. Now she saw barely visible lines of sequins between folds of the skirt. Although there was no breeze, the skirt seemed to shift, and tiny shards of light shot from the sequins otherwise hidden in the yards of material.

“Yes, that dress in the window, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It is unique, part of our special collection.” He sounded proud. “May we make one like it for you?”

“Make one?” She stepped forward and reached out. The touch of her fingers caused swirls of violet to run through the fabric from waist to hem, and she gasped as she jerked her hand away. “No, I need the dress for tomorrow night.” Curious, she faced the man. “I can’t believe you made this. It’s wonderful!”

He closed his eyes and graciously nodded his acknowledgement.

The mannequin in the window drew her attention again. She’d never owned anything so soft and feminine. Suddenly her black pantsuits seemed totally unsuitable for the office party, dull and lifeless, even when she imagined them paired with a bright scarf or lacy camisole.

“How much for this dress?” Damn! She’d failed to keep intense interest from her voice. If she were the salesperson, she’d immediately jack up the price.

“Oh, you don’t want that. It’s only for display and very old. I can’t guarantee your satisfaction.”

Slowly Derica turned to the man, her mind turning over possibilities of why he wouldn’t want to take advantage of a sale. Did he think to haggle and increase the price, now that she’d shown her excitement? Well, if that was his game, she could play, too.

“Perhaps you’re right. I have a formal affair tomorrow night. Do you have anything else?” Casting a glance at the drab interior, she carefully kept her expression neutral. “I’m a size eight,” she offered, seeing him give her an appraising look.

He nodded. “That’s exactly what I would have said. If you’ll follow me, I think we have just what you’re looking for.”

They walked to the back of the store and through a curtained doorway. There she found a softly lighted alcove with two stuffed chairs on either side of a dark-stained piecrust table. A cup of steaming tea and a plate of shortbread were on a tray. She examined the room in amazement, not having expected a showroom. In fact, she’d barely expected curtains on the dressing rooms, based on the appearance of the shop.

“Just make yourself comfortable, and we’ll see what we have, shall we?” He waved her into one of the chairs then turned toward another, smaller doorway to her side. “Edwina, we’re ready.”

A young woman dramatically swept aside the material covering the entryway and emerged wearing a pink chiffon formal with a fitted bodice and long sleeves. What caught Derica’s attention however, was the woman’s shape. She could have been Derica’s body double with her long legs, narrow, rounded hips, and tiny waist. The woman’s breasts would have nicely filled out Derica’s own B-cup bra. The difference came in her beautiful violet eyes and heart shaped, Kewpie doll lips, painted bright red.
And also in her short spiked hair that was a most interesting shade of yellow. Derica was so taken with their similarities in shape, it didn’t occur to her to wonder why the woman was poised and ready to model formal gowns.

“This is my granddaughter, Edwina.” The man beamed at Edwina then turned his warm smile on Derica. “And I’m Nigel Brown.”

“I’m Derica Meadows. That’s a lovely gown, Mr. Brown,” she said, as the woman twirled to show off the flow of the skirt. “But it looks like something for a prom.”

His smile fell ever so slightly. “Oh, dear. Well, Edwina…” He shooed her behind the curtain.

After what felt like only seconds, Edwina came out again, wearing a lime green skirt and white ruffled blouse.

“No, that’s not right at all. I need something for a company dinner, and I want a gown that will knock everyone back on their heels.”

She’d barely taken a sip of tea before Edwina left and came back, this time in a sleek black sheath that displayed too much leg on one end and far too much cleavage on the other. Derica cringed then smiled, thinking of the reactions of The Wives if she wore this dress to the party. But a sexy little number wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted mystery underlying a thoroughly feminine sophistication.

She wanted the dress in the window.

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Awards and affirmation: BVS’s talented authors

AwardWhat’s in an Award? Maybe just what you need to keep going.

If you’ve spent much time reading Black Velvet Seductions authors, you know you’re delving into some pretty good stuff. I’m not saying that because I’m one of their authors, though it’s always special when you feel you’re among really good company. And that’s how I’ve felt ever since Richard Savage accepted my first BVS book, Naval Maneuvers. The company is a class act all the way, and their writers prove that with each new release. I’d like to highlight two friends at BVS who recently won awards for their books. If you haven’t read either of these ladies, you really should.

Jan Selbourne

Jan writes historical fiction, some very romantic and some more plot driven then romance driven. Either way, this woman has a way with words that will draw you in and make you stay up late reading. Jan won 5 stars and recognition for two of her books last year at Coffee Pot Book Club. One of those books, Lies of Gold, won Silver for historical book of 2019! Although Lies of Gold isn’t a BVS book, one of Jan’s very best books, I think, is: Perilous Love. It’s one of my favorites! But really, with Jan, you can’t go wrong!

Book: Lies of Gold
Silver medal for Historical Book of the Year, 2019
Awarded by: The Coffee Pot Book Club
Date of award: December 3rd, 2019

Here’s what Jan has to say about winning her award.

NA: What was your first reaction when you saw that you’d finaled in a Lies of Gold by Jan Selbournecontest and then won?
JS: I did receive a senior school prize for best short story, but I think mum and dad were more excited than I was. Fast forward to now – or should I say 2019, when my book The Proposition was given a wonderful review and 5 Stars Award by Mary Anne Yarde, Coffee Pot Book Club. Encouraged, I submitted Lies of Gold to Mary Anne and was thrilled to receive a glowing review and 5 Stars Award. I thought that was it until her email in November informing me Lies of Gold was a finalist in the 2019 Book of the Year – Historical Romance category. We would be informed of the results in early December. My first reaction? Stunned. When that email appeared in my Inbox I was too nervous to look. Closed my eyes, deep breath, hit the mouse, opened my eyes to read the words Silver Medal. Lies of Gold had been awarded Silver Medal! I was speechless – and that doesn’t happen often.

NA: How did your family/friends react?
JS: They were really pleased and like me, surprised – wow.

NA: What was the result of your winning the award (i.e., did you make any changes in the way you wrote or what you wrote; did you try to emulate the winning book/story instead of trying new things, etc.)?
JS: The result was a real shot in the arm for me. Promoting and marketing can be tough. However this award convinced me I must be doing something right. Don’t stop writing!

Alice Renaud

If you enjoy fantasy and magic mixed amongst your romance, you should definitely read Alice Renaud’s Sea of Love series. Her writing is so engaging, and she can paint a picture with words that few others can. Her third book in the series is coming out this year from BVS and I’m saving a place on my Kindle for it! Either of the two current books in the series (A Merman’s Choice and Music for a Merman) can stand alone, so dig in with the first or the second. Alice won the award for the series—quite an accomplishment!

Sea of Love series by Alice RenaudSeries: Sea of Love
Best Paranormal Series, 2019
Awarded by: The Paranormal Romance Guild
Date of award: January 2020

Here’s Alice’s reaction to her winning.

NA: What was your first reaction when you saw that you’d finaled in a contest and then won?
AR: Incredulity – I never thought my first book A Merman’s Choice and the series it’s part of, Sea of Love, would be nominated – let alone win!

NA: How did your family/friends react?
AR: My husband was very proud. My friends were impressed – I think they began to realize this writing lark could be a serious thing for me.

NA: What was the result of your winning the award (i.e., did you make any changes in the way you wrote or what you wrote; did you try to emulate the winning book/story instead of trying new things, etc.)?
AR: Mainly it motivated me to keep on writing – I was beginning to get discouraged because I wasn’t selling many books and thought maybe the books weren’t any good and perhaps I should just give up. It proved my writing was good. I started a new series, Conjuring Love, which is different in content and style from the Sea of Love series.

I guess I’ll slide in here, too. Last year my book, Only a Good Man Will Do, won a prize from the Las Vegas Romance Writers. It thrilled me to death, and I’m very grateful for their recognition. I’ve won a few contests before, including the Maggie Award of Excellence from the Georgia Romance Writers and it’s always an exciting surprise. But I had taken a few years off from writing, and this was just my second book since trying to come back. Maybe that’s why it was so thrilling. Whatever, the reason, thanks to the LVRW for giving me this honor!

Only a Good Man Will Do by Dee S. KnightBook: Only a Good Man Will Do (Book 1 of the Good Man series)
I Heart Indie, Best Erotic Romance of 2019
Awarded by: Las Vegas Romance Writers
Date of award: September 1, 2019

Here’s what I thought.

NA: What was your first reaction when you saw that you’d finaled in a contest and then won?
DSK: I was shocked. And then I jumped up and down and texted my husband right away.

NA: How did your family/friends react?
DSK: Jack was as happy for me as I was for myself. He knew how hard it had been for me to get back into writing. In his own way he’d nudged and cajoled, so I think he’s taken credit for the award. 😉

NA: What was the result of your winning the award (i.e., did you make any changes in the way you wrote or what you wrote; did you try to emulate the winning book/story instead of trying new things, etc.)?
DSK: As Alice said, we’re our own worst enemies. When there is not a lot of recognition—especially sales and lots of followers and such—it’s easy to feel you don’t deserve to be recognized because you aren’t good enough. It’s easier now to cut myself a little slack and admit that maybe I am good at what I try to do.

That’s the main point I want to end with. There are others at BVS who have won awards with their work (but were to shy to say so here). Some writers there maybe haven’t won an award award, but they’ve received recognition for their writing in other ways, through great sales or love notes from their fans and such. An award doesn’t matter that much in the long run. It’s the love of the readers and the joy of being able to do what we love. Those are awards enough.

Check out some wonderful writers at BVS and see how great reading can be.

The monsters are real! Meet Augustina Van Hoven

Monsters and vampires and things that go bump in the night! Welcome Augustina Van Hoven and The Hidden!

The Hidden by Augustina Van Hoven

For most of her life, Lily Montgomery had thought the creatures that inhabited her dreams lived on only in the pages of the horror novels she wrote. Until she was kidnapped by a vampire and forced to go on the run from werewolves and other shapeshifters. And from her emotions. For, against all reason, her heart was also at risk of being captured by the vampire.

Valerian DuCharme had been turned into a vampire against his will. But in the turning, he did not lose his charisma or his caring. Now the enforcer for one of the princely houses of the Community, he tried to ensure the safety of anyone who came within range. And of many who didn’t. But it was all reflex, until he met Lily. And emotions he hadn’t felt for hundreds of years surfaced.

Buy links:

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Meet Augustina:

Augustina Van Hoven Augustina Van Hoven was born in The Netherlands and currently resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, dog and two cats. She is an avid reader of romance, science fiction and fantasy. When she’s not writing she likes to work in her garden or in the winter months crochet and knit on her knitting machines.

 

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Look, Mom! I won! #MFRWauthor

Lottery!Ah! Winning the lottery Who doesn’t dream of this happening? I’ve dreamed of it so often, for years I considered it my Retirement Plan. No. Really.

But then again, I’m already retired and have I won the lottery? Heck no. Good thing I kept my day job.

Still, it’s fun to play “What if…?” I know a few things I would do, for sure.

  • Take the money in a lump sum. None of this doling out the funds year by year. No one knows how much time they have left, and if I get called to heaven sooner than I think I will, I want to have enjoyed every single cent I can before I go.
  • Pay off all my debts. Not that there are all that many, but I’d like not to have to worry about owing anyone. That way I can lay on that beach with nothing niggling at the back of my mind. “Did I pay the mortgage this month?” “Do I have anything left on the student loan?” “Have I paid the pool boy his monthly stipend?” Nope. Don’t want any of that on my mind.
  • Gift those I love and who have loved me all these years. I’d give my mom and aunt anything their little heart’s desire. Ditto for my wonderful in-laws. And my friends—I have a few who could really use some help. One dear friend has a son with autism, and another has a brother in the same boat. I’d like for them not to have to worry about their loved one’s futures.
  • Donate to my favorite charities. Shriners Hospitals would get a big donation, as would several other places. If I have it, I want to share it.
  • Go back to Scotland. It’s one of the places I’d like to visit again and Piper in Scotlandshow it off to Jack. Scotland is one of my favorite places on earth.
  • Buy books. If I have anything left after all that, I’d buy as many books as I want.Yippee!

When we buy lottery tickets—which is not all that often—we buy only one. Don’t have particular numbers, don’t say a prayer beforehand or go through any special rituals. I figure if God wants me to win the lottery, one ticket will be enough, and it won’t matter which numbers I choose. If God doesn’t want me to win (and so far, not that I doubt His wisdom, but I do think it’s an oversight on His part), it won’t matter if I buy a thousand tickets or use the birth date of the Archangel Michael for the numbers. So far, God has seen fit to keep me humble…and poor. Oh well. Life is still good.

What would you do with lottery winnings?
.
Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

Burning Bridges #MFRWBookhooks

Burning Bridges by Anne KristI recently received a 5-star Recommended Read from Coffee Pot Book Club for Burning Bridges! I’m so excited and grateful!

Blurb:
Consider the role of strangers in our lives. An unknown postman in Virginia hides a bag of mail one day. His simple action set in motion untold consequences for many others—strangers—all over the country. How many bridges were burned in that forgotten mail pouch?

Sara Richards’s world is rocked when three love letters from 1970 are delivered decades late. The letters were written by Paul Steinert, a young sailor who took her innocence with whispered words of love and promises of forever before leaving for Vietnam. Sara is left behind, broken hearted and secretly pregnant, yearning for letters she never received.

Then Paul died.

Now, years later, she discovers the betrayal wasn’t Paul’s, when her mother confesses to a sin that changed their lives forever. How can Sara reveal to Paul’s parents that they have a granddaughter they’ve missed the chance to know? Even worse, how will she find the words to tell her daughter that she’s lived her life in the shadow of a lie?

Picking her way through the minefields of secrets, distrust, and betrayal, Sara finds that putting her life together again while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

Buy link: KU

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:

Sara stared at the letters arranged before her in numerical order. The moment in time she and Paul shared was long ago, yet her dream had conjured his presence as though she’d just seen him. In her mind, his blue eyes darkened with passion before his lips captured hers, and he moaned his appreciation when their tongues met. She tasted his sweetness and knew the steel of his arms as he held her. How many nights had she put herself through hell reliving those memories? Too damn many.

After the concert, they’d met clandestinely on weekends, mostly at Sandbridge, where they could walk and talk undisturbed. With each meeting, stirrings built deep in Sara that pushed her to want more, but Paul insisted they restrain themselves because of her age.

Then the weekend before he shipped out, she’d planned a surprise and her life changed forever.

The kettle screeched, bringing her back to the present. Sara prepared a cup of tea and then picked up the envelope marked twenty-eight. At one time, she would have given her right arm to hold this letter. Now, curiosity and the desire for a brief escape drove her more than the passion of youth. Blind love had faded when she’d had no word to bolster her during the long weeks after the ship left.

First had come the waiting. No letters arrived, even though she wrote him daily. There were no phone calls, no notes, no anything, for days that dragged into weeks then crept into months.

Anticipation morphed into anxiety. She worried he was sick or hurt and unable to write.

One day she admitted that Paul must be afraid to write for some reason, and she feared what he would say if she did receive a letter. That their time together had been a mistake, that she was too young to be in love. That he really loved someone else and Sara had been only a stand-in while he was in Virginia. Perversely, she began to sigh with relief when she arrived home and found no word.

Now, knowing why she hadn’t received mail, what would she feel if she opened this letter and her old fears proved to be true?

“Nothing,” she murmured. “Paul’s dead. He can’t hurt me anymore.” At the very least, his letters might allow her to put his ghost to rest. For that reason alone, she had to read them.

She slid her thumb under the flap and ripped the envelope open. A single sheet held his hurried scrawl. 

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New! In audio! Lyrical Embrace by Amber Daulton

Lyrical Embrace - AudioLyrical Embrace, Book 4 of the Deerbourne Inn series
Narrator: Georgia Allens
Audiobook Release Date: January 23, 2020
Ebook Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Ebook Release Date: February 11, 2019
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Length: 40k
Heat Rating: 3 Flames

Blurb
Out-of-work violinist Erica Timberly decides enough is enough. She leaves her abusive boyfriend and flees the big city, but then her car breaks down in the middle of the night. Though wary of men, she accepts help from Dylan Haynes, a stranger driving by on the road, and soon recognizes him as the sexy former drummer of her favorite indie rock band. Maybe, just maybe, her run of bad luck is finally turning around.

Music teacher Dylan Haynes knows Erica is in trouble, and her black eye is only the first clue. The stubborn yet vulnerable woman needs a friend, but he’s determined to give her everything she deserves.

Will Erica listen to the music in her heart and trust Dylan, or will her past always threaten her future?

Lyrical Embrace by Amber Daulton

Excerpt
Dylan deepened the kiss and lightly tugged on her bottom lip. Tears streaked his flushed cheeks as he smiled at her. “I’m so grateful I found you, baby. I heard you screaming. When I saw that bastard press a gun to your head, my heart nearly exploded. I thought I might lose you. I promise you, Erica, I will never control you as Phil did. You will always have the ability to choose. I just want to make you happy.”

She gripped his hand and brushed her lips across his calloused knuckles. “I know. You do make me happy. You took a bullet for me.” A sob constricted her throat, but she pushed it down.

A blast of noise rent the air. Fireworks filled the sky, visible in the alley from the narrow stretch of space between the buildings.

Erica loved the bright colors and designs, but hardly cared about watching the spectacle. She dropped her gaze back to Dylan.

A grin spread across his face. “It’s been one wild Fourth of July. Why don’t we do something more low-key next year? How about no guns and crazy exes? Just us, the creek, and a bottle of wine. Clothing optional.”

She laughed softly, amazed he could make light of the situation. “That sounds perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Want to hear a sample?

 

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Audio Buy Link (UK)
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Interested in the ebook instead? You can grab a copy here:
Books2Read 

Lyrical Embrace by Amber Daulton

About the Author
Amber DaultonAmber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through The Wild Rose Press and Books to Go Now, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats.
Amber lives in North Carolina with her husband and four demanding cats. Feel free to visit her at http://www.amberdaultonauthor.blogspot.com.

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Daylight Saving Time: Bleh! #MFRWauthor

Daylight Saving TimeI might be one of those few people who really things the great outdoors is overrated. I don’t particularly enjoy being in the bright sunshine (I have to worry about a lady’s fair complexion), I’ve never been one for sports or strenuous activities, picnics only attract insects, and sitting out in the late evening with a cup (or glass) of an adult beverage has me swatting mosquitoes and wishing I were inside on my recliner. In other words, having an extra hour of afternoon sunlight has never been important to me.

In the natural course of the seasons, the sun is going to rise and set differently regardless of what humans do. God made it that way. God should be the only one to change it. And God knows, when He does change it, we won’t be able to escape the change!

I don’t like the whole Spring Forward scenario. I feel tired for days afterward for missing that hour of sleep. And even when we Fall Back, I actually feel like the day should be over long before it is. It’s not good for a body to have to adjust like that. Cows agree with me. They want to be milked when they want to be milked and be damned what the clock says. You know that’s right.

Plus, there’s always one clock or two that doesn’t change automatically.Changing time Or one that doesn’t backup, only changes by going forward and you have to go through a whole day’s worth of hours in order to get it set properly. One year I forgot how to change the time on my car’s clock and had to keep the correct time in my head by mentally adjusting it back until I was relieved by the fall’s change. Such a pain!

Therefore, I protest Daylight Saving Time. Do away with it! To heck with the amusement and entertainment world and the retail outlets who want that extra daylight for people to come and spend money. There’s plenty of time for fathers and mothers to get home from work and cut grass and barbecue without changing the Course of the Clocks. Down with Daylight Saving Time!

Do you agree?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers 

When it rains, it pours. Good news for Oz!!

I know I’m not alone in dreading the daily news of the corona virus. Turning on the TV or our car radio or computer brings more serious and worrying updates. This morning I didn’t want to listen to the gloom and doom, so I decided to go for a walk. Damn, I couldn’t do that either because it had begun to rain. Back inside, opened my laptop, flicked through various news channels and stopped at the ABC Rural news heading:
Widespread rainfall in western NSW gives hope to farmers for strong harvest

I thought, “Stop complaining about the rain preventing a walk, three months ago we were praying for the wet stuff to end the drought and put out the fires.” So, while today’s pandemic news is grim, I’d like to share something more cheerful.

Russell Crowe's propertyWhile Australia is no stranger to bushfires, this season was unprecedented with out of control fires in every state and territory from September 2019 to February 2020. When our fireys were stretched to the limit, their brothers-in-arms from America, Canada, Singapore and New Zealand arrived to help. We were overwhelmed by the support, donations and prayers from around the world but what we needed was rain. And we got it when Mother Nature decided to turn on all her taps. Some drought-stricken areas received more rain in a few days than they’d had in two years. Sydney had flash flooding after weeks of being shrouded in smoke.

Where I live, 4 inches fell over one weekend and that was mild to what some other places received. The huge Warragamba Dam which supplies 5.2 million people in the Greater Sydney Area rose from just 43% to over 60% in 24 hours, and the rain didn’t stop. We watched the news showing ecstatic farmers splashing in water streaming through their properties and the faces of little children who’d never seen puddles. A man holding a glass under his overflowing water tank and gleefully drinking the contents with, “bloody good, mate.”

One farmer stripped off – well not quite – to celebrate the rain.

Creeks and rivers were running again, and roads flooded. And smiles grew wider. Countryside down to the dirt is now brilliant green pasture.

It will take more follow up rain before some areas are out of drought and we are very optimistic and very glad to leave that horrific summer behind.

Before I sign off, here’s a video that made me laugh – and right now we need a laugh. I hope you enjoy it too. The ventriloquist act.

Jan

Jan SelbourneJan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

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Fantasy and magic are the key #MFRWHooks

Your Desire by Dee S. KnightThis is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!
Blurb:
Your Desire. A mysterious shop appears in town for one reason: to bring the spice of passion and the thrill of love to one special person. Magic is in more than the item purchased—it’s in the heart of the buyer, often hidden, usually surprising. And after enchantment takes hold? The store fades from sight and memory, only to reappear somewhere else. Maybe in your town….
Buy link:
KU https://tinyurl.com/ux3asvo

MFRW Book Hooks

Excerpt:
The whir of a sewing machine traveled across the ether. As intended, the sound blended with the those of a lawn mower in Cleveland, a blender in Dallas, an electric razor in Seattle. Some people, those specially attuned to properties outside the normal realm of humans, heard buzzing that could have been a sewing machine, but it was faint and truly indistinguishable for what it was. More like a mosquito at the ear. They heard it but couldn’t decipher exactly where to swat, so they did their best ignore it.

Of course, the sound was not supposed to be heard, and therefore not investigated. The very few who did hear it clearly, who also heard Nigel and his granddaughter clearly, well, they generally resided in a hospital setting where three squares a day were provided and tranquility came in the form of little green pills. At the least, they saw a shrink three times a week. Their knowledge wasn’t taken seriously.

This worried Nigel, but what could he do? It wasn’t his fault humans had devolved to the point where they no longer believed in enchantment. He shook his head and tsked as he sewed. When he was a boy learning the business from his grandfather as his granddaughter now learned from him, no one would have believed the universe could get to this point, where people believed in the “magic” of technology but not the magic that could be found in their own hearts.

Of course, challenges were exciting, and skeptical humans certainly kept him on his toes.

Absently, he hummed as he completed the final seam on the full, purple satin skirt. He pulled it from the machine, snipped the threads and shook the material out before pinning it on the dress form.

“Edwina! I have the skirt finished. Come here, dear.” Standing back to cast a critical eye over how the skirt hung, he held up an artist’s rendition of what the final product should be. He looked from drawing to garment, made a few small adjustments to the pleating around the waist and nodded in satisfaction.

“Hey, Gramps,” his granddaughter said, bounding into the room.

For the millionth time, he mentally cringed at the lack of style in today’s youth. Their kind had the ability to appear any way they wished. Glancing in the mirror, he saw a debonair David Niven reflected back. The sleeves of his snowy white shirt were rolled to his elbows, but the Windsor knot in his tie was perfect, as was the knife-sharp crease in his trousers and the shine on his shoes. When he rolled down his sleeves and put on his jacket, he would look every inch the gentleman. Quirking his brows in approval, he unconsciously ran a fingertip lightly over his moustache. Instead of selecting what he would consider an appropriate shell, Edwina—a name which screamed propriety—chose to look like a bag lady gone wild.

Like today, for instance. Long blond hair, streaked with pink and purple, pulled up into a ponytail to hang down the side of her head. Black lipstick and eye shadow. Two earrings in one ear and four in the other. A bright orange tank top and faded jeans—separated scandalously by a good three inches of bare stomach—looked as though they’d been worn (and torn) for centuries. And her feet—her lovely, dainty feet!—were shod in horrid, ugly brown things that not even the most desperate soldier in Caesar’s army would have donned.

When he had questioned her once about her appearance, she’d said with delight that she was starting her own trend. A Lauper-Madonna-Pink look. It was not something he’d understood. Today, after a quick perusal, he leaned closer.

“What is that?” He swiped his thumb across her cheek, then examined what was on the pad.

“Body glitter. Isn’t it cool?” She grinned at him.

Her enthusiasm, as well as her utter lack of self-consciousness, brought the slightest of smiles to his eyes, even as his mouth formed a moue of reproach.

“Yes, well.” He wiped his thumb on a handkerchief pulled from the pocket of his jacket, hanging on the wall behind Edwina. “‘Cool’ is what ice cubes provide. I don’t know what body glitter is good for.”

Giggles flowed from her, reminding him of when she was a small girl instead of the nearly grown youngster she was now. Where had the centuries gone? Despite the shudders her wardrobe caused, he loved Edwina enormously and strove to give her the very best education in what they did, which was make dreams come true.

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