Tag Archives: #HobbyCareerPassion

#HobbyCareerPassion: Crab Fishing with Jack Devereaux ~ Author Constance Bretes

Welcome to my weekly feature where authors share about the hobbies, careers, or passions of their characters.

I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest, Jax Devereaux…

 

Constance:  What exactly do you do as a crab fisherman?

Jax:  I take a crew of 7 or 8 people, and we go out to the Bering Sea. I have 800 crate shaped open cylinders we call pots. When we get to the destination where we want to get crabs, We use a pulley and grab a pot, bring it to the deck, bait it with raw fish, attach a buoy to it and toss it in the sea. I mark the spot on my radar and GPS as well as write it on a pad of paper. We strong the pots along a line until all are dumped into the sea.

Constance:  What do you do after you string all your pots?

Jax:  We circle around and go back to the beginning. Sometimes it is 24 to 48 hours before we reach for the rope with the pulley, and pull the buoy and the pot up to the surface. When it reaches the surface, we lay it on a slab, open the pot, and dump the crabs in a chute, sorting them as we go. We are only allowed to keep male crabs that are a certain size. All others will be toss back into the sea. The chute takes them down to the holding tank.

Constance:  Where do you take the crabs you’ve caught?

Jax:  When we reach max weight, we head back to the harbor and offload at the warehouse where they process the crabs for distribution to the customers.

Constance:  What kind of crabs do you fish for?

Jax:  King crabs, Opillo crabs and Biardi crabs. Each has their own seasons.

Constance:  How often are you out at sea?

Jax:  Crab season starts in September and ends in the Spring. We are gone almost the whole season.

Constance:  How did you get into this profession?

Jax:  I’ve been a crab fisherman all my life except for the time I served in the US Coast Guard. My father and grandfather both were crab fishermen.

Constance:  Do you get to go home for holidays?

Jax:  No. We miss all the holidays, including Christmas, except for July 4th.

Constance:  What are the biggest concerns you have as far as deep sea fishing is concern?

Jax: Rove waves, severe weather, motion sickness and safety. Safety is my number one priority.

Constance:  How well do the crew perform in this condition?

Jax:   Everyone does a good job and pull their weight, that is, except one. My brother, Rudy. I have to light a fire under him to get him to perform at max potential.

Constance:  What made you famous?

Jax:  An author wrote a book called Midnight Escape where I’m the hero. It’s how I met Suzanne, the heroine. I snuck her on to my boat and took her crab fishing in an effort to shield her from the mafia who had a hit on her and was after her.

Constance:  I bet that was a ride of the lifetime.

Jax:  It was a hell of a trip. Poor girl, I had no idea Suzanne was deathly afraid of water.

 

On the run from the mob, Suzanne discovers that hunky Jax is just the man she needs.

Suzanne Pacheco is on the run from the mob after witnessing a murder and helping to put the killer in prison. Her trip across the country brings her to a small town in Alaska. But once again the mob’s hitman has tracked her down. She’s disheartened at the thought of leaving the town she’s developed a real fondness for, but there’s nothing else she can do. Until she finds help in the unlikeliest of places and embarks on an adventure like never before.

Commercial fisherman Jax Devereaux has his hands full fishing for crabs in the formidable Bering Sea, but when Suzanne needs his help, he adds yet another thing to his list of responsibilities. He takes her with him to the one place he thinks she might be safe—the middle of the sea. But there’s danger everywhere. Can he keep Suzanne safe, and will he lose his heart in the process?

Author Bio:

Constance Bretes is an author of contemporary romances.

When she’s not writing book boyfriends and strong heroines, she enjoys basket weaving, reading, making jewelry, and playing the piano as well as spending time with her husband and their two furball children, Tigger and Sunny. Constance is married to Jim, and they live in a small town in Alabama.

You can sign up for her newsletter here:  https://constancebretes.com

Email: bretesc@gmail.com

Website: https://constancebretes.com

Blog: https://www.constancebretes.com/connies-blog

NL Link:  https://www.constancebretes.com/news–things.html

Amazon Author URL: https://www.amazon.com/Constance-Bretes/e/B00IKSKRES/

Bookbub Author URL: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/constance-bretes

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/conniebretes/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7737457.Constance_Bretes

Instagram: constancebretesauthor

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/cbretes/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ConstanceBretes,

 

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#HobbyCareerPassion: A Passion For Paranormal by Robert Herold

Welcome to my weekly feature where authors share about the hobbies, careers, or passions of their characters.

I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest, Robert Herold…

A Passion For Paranormal

We all feel a little unnerved when the power goes out, when we are plunged into darkness, when we are booked into a room on the 13th floor, or when 13 is missing from the elevator options, and most especially when people we know pass away. People have huddled around fires since ancient times to keep away their fears, both real and imagined. Today, when the power goes out, we cluster around that scented candle on the coffee table, or that flashlight app on one’s cell phone—until the battery wears out. Are we really so different from those in the past?

Imagine it is 1885, the beginning of the modern era. Science is making new strides in hitherto unexplored areas: chemistry, physics, psychology, even applying the scientific method to the hereafter – exposing frauds and maybe, just maybe, proving the existence of life after death. This was a passionate sideline for William James, a real figure from history. He was a famed Harvard professor, father of American psychology, and brother to the famous writer Henry James (author of The Turn of the Screw, among many others).

Professor William James helped found the American branch of the Society for Psychical Research, who applied the scientific method to investigations of the supernatural. Eventually the group in America became headed by a dogmatic skeptic and James had a falling out. Using this as a springboard, I imagined he then started his own investigative group, The Eidola Project (eidola being a Greek word for ghost). Some real investigations, including those that are downright spooky, are woven into the story, especially while he is building his team of paranormal researchers.

In addition to William James (age 42), the Eidola Project consists of Annabelle Douglas (age 28), one of the first graduates of The Harvard Annex (later known as Radcliff), Sarah Bradbury (age 18), an authentic medium, Edgar Gilpin (age 26), a brilliant African American physicist and graduate of Howard and Yale Universities, and Nigel Pickford (age 39), one of the youngest Confederate officers, who in the years following the Civil War is plagued by paranormal visions & has become a drunken derelict. Each contributes to the group, but each has his or her own peculiar baggage and set of weaknesses.

Professor James directs The Eidola Project from Harvard, sending them off on various missions, and occasionally joining them (akin to “Rupert Giles,” a character in the TV show Buffy the Vampire Slayer). The Eidola Project are intrepid explorers of the supernatural, but in doing so, they enter the darkness and become ensnared in a dangerous investigation of a haunted house, where they encounter all sorts of things that go bump—or worse!

 

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-eidola-project-robert-herold/1133990920

Blurb:

It’s 1885 and a drunk and rage-filled Nigel Pickford breaks up a phony medium’s séance. A strange twist of fate soon finds him part of a team investigating the afterlife.

The Eidola Project is an intrepid group of explorers dedicated to bringing the light of science to that which has been feared, misunderstood, and often manipulated by charlatans. They are a psychology professor, his assistant, an African-American physicist, a sideshow medium, and now a derelict, each possessing unique strengths and weaknesses.

Called to the brooding Hutchinson Estate to investigate rumored hauntings, they encounter deadly supernatural forces and a young woman driven to the brink of madness.

Will any of them survive?                                                                

Excerpt:

Sarah retrieved the lamp and twisted the peg. The outhouse door swung open on its own, and she gasped.

“Momma?” Sarah asked as she held out her lantern. No. A ruined version of Molly stood in the doorway.

Before her disappearance, people often commented on the sixteen-year-old’s beauty, but in the last twenty-eight days birds pecked out her pretty blue eyes, and maggots now swam in the sockets. Molly’s head hung to the left at an odd angle. Her skin looked mottled with patches of gray, blue, and black. A beetle crawled out of Molly’s half-opened mouth and darted back in.

Sarah’s heart leaped to her throat, and she jumped back. She lost her footing, fell onto the outhouse seat, and dropped the lantern to the floor. She bent to retrieve it; thankful the glass globe did not break. Sarah looked up and saw an empty doorway.

Impossible, she told herself. Must’ve dozed off, had a nightmare, and woke up when I dropped the lamp. Her heart still pounded in her chest, and Sarah took a deep breath to calm herself.

Holding the lamp before her once more, she crept out… 

Available at:

https://www.amazon.com/Eidola-Project-Novel-ebook/dp/B07YRB4F99/ref=sr_1_1

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-eidola-project-robert-herold/1133990920

Animated Book Trailer (17 seconds!): https://youtu.be/SZovJ-MZQ5Y         

About the Author:

The supernatural always had the allure of forbidden fruit, ever since Robert Herold’s mother refused to allow him, as a boy, to watch creature features on late night TV. She caved in. (Well, not literally.)

As a child, fresh snow provided him the opportunity to walk out onto neighbors’ lawns halfway and then make paw prints with his fingers as far as he could stretch. He would retrace the paw and boot prints, then fetch the neighbor kids and point out that someone turned into a werewolf on their front lawn. (They were skeptical.)

He has pursued many interests over the years (among them being a history teacher and a musician), but the supernatural always called to him. You could say he was haunted. Finally, following the siren’s call, he wrote The Eidola Project, based on a germ of an idea he had as a teenager.

Ultimately, he hopes the book gives you the creeps, and he means that in the best way possible.

https://robertheroldauthor.com/

https://www.facebook.com/RobertHeroldauthor/

https://twitter.com/RobertHerold666

 

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#HobbyCareerPassion: “Say it loud, I’m Black and I’m proud” by Michal Scott

Welcome to my weekly feature where authors share about the hobbies, careers, or passions of their characters.

I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest, Michal Scott…

“Say it loud, I’m Black and I’m proud”

We all need to be inspired. I grew up in the “Say it loud, I’m Black and I’m proud” era, so I’ve been seeking and finding images and histories of African Americans for over fifty years. As part of that quest, I once bought a box of thirty-six famous Black Americans flashcards. Imagine my disappointment when only six of the thirty-six were women! Six?! And the six that were included were women I already knew. Three were important 20th century figures in entertainment, politics and civil rights and three were slaves. But weren’t there any other Black women I should know about? That question started me on my present hobby: specifically collecting pictures of African-American women. If a postcard had a Black woman’s face on it, I bought it and framed it. If there was book with a collection of photos, I bought three: one for the keeper shelf and two to cut up for framing. Soon I had so many Billie Holidays and Josephine Bakers, I started making and framing collages to fill 11×14 frames. I hung my treasures prominently around my home where I could receive inspiration from their presence.

Although I was initially disappointed by my flashcard purchase, those six cards impacted my writing. I became consumed with the question of how we went from being slaves to producing a famous Metropolitan contralto, the first Black woman elected to Congress and a fighter for civil rights that President Roosevelt included her among his advisors. The histories I learned as I became acquainted with these and the other women in my collection stirred my imagination. I began to model the heroines in my stories on them. Sometimes I’m able to incorporate incidences from their lives as well.

For instance, not many people know how later in life Harriet Tubman was so poor, she became vulnerable to swindlers. In One Breath Away my heroine, ex-slave Mary Hamilton, was victimized by someone she trusted and had her life put in danger as a result. One Breath Away is a romance that shows how she learns to trust again: herself and the man who wants to win her love.

I’ve recently moved from the Northeast to the Southwest and have over two hundred photos and drawings to be unpacked and rehung again. As I do I’ll be sharing my collection on Twitter and Facebook during Women’s History month hoping they’ll inspire others and they’ve inspired me.

 

Blurb:

Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was saved at literally the last gasp. She returns home to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone until the handsome stranger who helped save her re-enters her life one night at a dance, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more. Hope ignites along with lust until the past threatens to keep them one breath away from love…

Excerpt:

“Why—why do you want to dance with me?”

He smiled with the serpent slyness that probably charmed Eve. “I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.” “I might.”

He turned his head slightly. “Really? Your practiced calm says otherwise.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Practiced calm?”

“The face you present to the world until something touches your heart.” He gestured to his right. “Like when that baby there cried. Your expression changed to one of concern, then changed to one of contentment when his mother satisfied his hunger.”

Mary blew a breath through her mouth. This man was studying her. Really studying her. Should she be flattered or worried?

The one-two-three, one-two-three magic of the waltz began. He guided her in its dips and glides, through its rises and falls. The awkwardness attributed to her by past dance partners didn’t raise its ugly head. Her spirit lightened then soared until that still, small voice sounded the alarm.

You were fooled by another man and his fancy manners. Don’t be fooled by this one.

Hints of bay rum mingled with a manly scent against whose lure she struggled then lost. Once again her toilet water failed to hide the salty scent of her arousal.

Eban pinned her with a not-so-casual scrutiny. Could he smell her too? She tried but failed to read him. Dare she hope the ease in his smile meant he found it pleasing?

The other couples held their partners off with discreet and proper holds. Not Eban. Warmth radiated from the hand holding the small of her back hostage. The heat spread across her buttocks then seeped into places more private. He bent his elbow and gentled her forward so only their clasped hands separated them.

“Why, Miss Hamilton, I do believe you’re blushing.” His fingers held hers with a teasing yet possessive grip.

“I am not.” Her words shot out with a force she hadn’t intended. “I mean I don’t blush.”

“No?” A cheeky boyishness winked at her from eyes as dark as chocolate. He leaned down so his breath tickled her earlobe. “Not even if I kissed you behind your ear?”

She shrank back then stared up into the gaze showering her with attention. Her heart beat beneath her breast with a prisoner’s unease. An unease she knew well having once been a prisoner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bio:

Michal Scott is the pen name of Anna Taylor Sweringen, a retired United Church of Christ and Presbyterian Church USA minister. Inspired by the love mystics of Begijn, Audre Lourde and Bell Hooks, Rev. Anna writes erotica and erotic romance with a faith arc, hoping to build a bridge between the sacred and secular, spirituality and sexuality, erotica and Christ, you and a well-written spiritually-stimulating and erotically-arousing story. Her story settings also seek to give insight into the African American experience in the US. In addition to erotic romance, she writes inspirational romance as Anna Taylor and gothic romance and women’s fiction as Anna M. Taylor.

Social media: @mscottauthor1, www.michalscott.webs.com

 

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#HobbyCareerPassion: It Happens to Nice Men and Women Too by Alana Lorens

Welcome to my weekly feature where authors share about the hobbies, careers, or passions of their characters.

I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest, Alana Lorens…

It happens to nice men and women, too

Nice to meet you!  My name is Inessa Regan, and I’m an attorney practicing in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. While I handle many different kinds of cases, one particular kind of client really calls to me—survivors of domestic violence.

While we don’t like to think about it, our friends and neighbors (and maybe ourselves) are victims of this sad crime. According to the CDC, 1 in 4 women and 1 in 7 men will experience physical violence by their intimate partner at some point during their lifetimes. About 1 in 3 women and nearly 1 in 6 men experience some form of sexual violence during their lifetimes. In an effort to help reduce that number by any means I can, I often provide free legal services to clients who need to get out of a dangerous situation, and I work with the local shelters to help their clients when I can.

At the time in my life told in the novel SECOND CHANCES, I get the opportunity to help an Iraq veteran who’s being battered by his soldier wife. The wife suffers from post-traumatic stress from her own war experiences, but won’t get the help she needs. As is so often true, we wonder why the battered party doesn’t just “get out”—but it is very clear that each of these situations is more complicated than is seen from the outside.

Do you need help, or know someone who does? Here’s some numbers for you to call.

 

BLURB

When Inessa Regan gets a pink slip, laid off from her law firm at the age of 42, without prospects she’s sure her life is over. She hides from the world, until her neighbor brings her a client, a young Iraq war veteran dying of cancer.

Kurt Lowdon only wants to make sure his affairs are in order should the worst happen, but meeting Inessa gives him encouragement on the road to recovery. His quest to help her realize her self-worth leads them into dangers they never expected, as horrors from the war and long-hidden family secrets come back to haunt them.

EXCERPT:

“A lot of people back home don’t understand what it’s like,” Rafe went on, his throat tight with the strain. “People get pushed to the wall. You’re on edge all day, all night. Things happen when guys get stressed out, you know? They need an outlet. Relief.”

“’Things’? You mean what? Fights? Drinking?” He shook his head and she wondered what other kinds of ‘relief’ he might be talking about. Her thoughts took a darker turn. “You mean the reports about women raped by their fellow soldiers?”

He nodded. “It happened all the time. It happened…to Susan.” He choked up. “Most of the girls, they’ll stay in their bunks all night, no matter what, just so they don’t have to hit the latrine alone. One night, Sus just couldn’t. No one would go with her. So…”

Inessa saw confirmation in Kurt’s face. “And Susan blames you for what happened.”

“If I-I-I’d been more c-careful, or let J-Jimmie get that b-bomb…I shoulda looked out for her. No one would have t-touched her if I’d been there!”

Kurt walked around the desk to put a hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “Susan’s been violent. I’ve seen the bruises. But he won’t retaliate—he feels responsible.”

“She’s changed. She’s a whole different person!” Agitated, Rafe ejected from his chair and started pacing. “She was never like this with me, not before I was sent Stateside. After she got back to the Real World, she was damned moody, man. We got into it at least twice a week, sometimes about nothing. She quit going to counseling after she lost the last job, just like all the others, always a fight with co-workers or a boss, and then it’s done. Seven months now, we’ve lived mostly on my disability.”

He turned to Inessa, gaze intent. “Living with her’s like living outside the wire, you know? I couldn’t stay any more. When I told her I was leaving, she shoved me down the stairs. I had two broken ribs.

“I would even have let that go, ‘cause I know she’s had a bad time. But since I been home with my parents, she won’t leave me alone. She threatens me, threatens them, follows me all the time. I’m not worried about me, I can take it. Damn her, my parents have nothing to do with what happened to me, or to her! I can’t let her do this.”

Alana Lorens has been a published writer for more than forty years. Currently a resident of Asheville, North Carolina, she loves her time in the smoky blue mountains. One of her novellas, That Girl’s The One I Love, is set in the city of Asheville during the old Bele Chere festival. She lives with her daughter, who is the youngest of her seven children, three crotchety cats, and four kittens of various ages.

 

Website https://wordpress.com/page/alana-lorens.com/21

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AlanaLorens/

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4829967.Alana_Lorens

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Alana-Lorens/e/B005GE0WBC/

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#HobbyCareerPassion: 911…What’s Your Emergency? by D. V. Stone

Welcome to my weekly feature where authors share about the hobbies, careers, or passions of their characters.

I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest, D. V. Stone…

 

911…What’s Your Emergency?

Hi, Alicia. Thank you for hosting me today on your passion blog. I am so excited to talk about First Responders. Though I haven’t been one for many years, I’ll never forget the times I did. It followed naturally that in my book Rock House Grill the main character is an EMT.

Here’s a bit of personal history. I became an EMT while working at the Hunterdon Developmental Center, working with the disabled. There’s a special place in my heart for these often-forgotten group of people. At first, I was a personal care attendant for my patients. When a position opened in the on-site clinic for an ambulance driver, I applied. Soon I was a certified EMT.

Our local volunteer squad always needed help. I joined and ran a routine duty night as well as picked up other calls when available. Only two blocks from the squad building often I was the first there to pull out the rig. Over the years, I worked and volunteered as an EMT, including in a women’s state prison and a hospital emergency room.

So, what is a First Responder? According to Merriam Webster, the definition of first responder is a person (such as a police officer or an EMT) who is among those responsible for going immediately to the scene of an accident or emergency to provide assistance.

Who is a First Responder? First responders typically include paramedics, emergency medical technicians, police officers, firefighters, rescuers, and other trained members of organizations connected with this type of work.

How many are there? There are over 1 million firefighters in the United States, of whom approximately 750,000 are volunteers. Volunteers in many places undergo a minimum of 110  to 171 hours of training. They continue that training throughout their careers via drills, meetings, and seminars.

Local police departments have an estimated 556,000 full-time employees, including about 436,000 sworn enforcement personnel.

Sheriffs’ offices reported about 291,000 full-time employees, including about 186,000 sworn personnel.

There are over 155,000 nationally registered emergency medical technicians (EMT).

My husband is also a volunteer firefighter. Though he is no longer active at a fire scene, he’s known to the children in our area as Fireman Pete. He and several others go to schools and daycare centers and teach fire prevention to the kids.

So many of these people run to danger instead of away. They miss time with their families, holidays, special occasions, etc. Unfortunately, First Responders are often targeted. Many years ago, when I volunteered, the danger was rampant. My partner and I both females responded to a man down. When we arrived, he was high and combative. Not only that, but those around him also had impaired judgment. My partner was knocked to the ground and I had to radio for assistance. Luckily for us, help arrived before we were further assaulted. One of the cities not far from us provided bulletproof vests to their EMTs. This was in the early 1990s.

Next time you see red and blue lights, I’d like you to remember the men and women who are manning the front of the line, which is often the line between life and death.

I hope this gives you a small peek inside the life of a First Responder.

One man’s choices—One woman’s impact

 Rock House Grill

 Coming in 2020

 Aden House, successful but driven chef and TV personality, refuses to slow down. His life implodes one night, damaging him both physically and emotionally. He’s rescued by a woman he thinks of as his angel.

Shay McDowell has rebuilt her life after her divorce. She juggles volunteer EMT duties and her job, while dreaming of becoming a chef. She finds her way to Rock House Grill and back into the life of the man she helped save.

Can love be the ingredient needed to survive the many obstacles they face?

Bio

Hi, my name is D. V. Stone. Recently, Rock House Grill, a contemporary romance, has been signed with Wild Rose Press. I host Welcome to the Campfire, a weekly blog. I am also a multi-genre author of two independently published books. Felice, Shield-Mates of Dar is a fantasy romance. Agent Sam Carter and the Mystery at Branch Lake is a mid-grade paranormal.

Born in Brooklyn, D.V. Stone has moved around a bit and even lived for a time on a dairy farm in Minnesota before moving back east. Throughout her wandering, she always considered herself a Jersey Girl. She met and married the love of her life, Pete—a lifelong Jersey Man.  They adopted Hali, a mixed breed from the local shelter.

D.V.’s career path varied from working with the disabled to become a volunteer EMT, which in turn led to working in hospital emergency rooms and then in a women’s state prison. After a few years, she took a break from medicine and became the owner of Heavenly Brew, a specialty coffee shop and a small restaurant. Now, when not writing, she is a medical receptionist.

“Thank you for taking the time to read about me. Each time you open the pages to one of my books, I hope you’ll be swept away by the story and find encouragement in your own life, never to give up on hope.”

 

Website          Facebook        Twitter            Instagram

Pinterest         Bookbub        Goodreads      Newsletter

Welcome to the Campfire Blog          Amazon Author Page

 

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#HobbyCareerPassion: The Mint Invasion: Out Of Chaos Comes Jelly…And Romance by M.S. Spencer

Welcome to my weekly feature where authors share about the hobbies, careers, or passions of their characters.

I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest, M.S. Spencer…

 

The Mint Invasion: Out Of Chaos Comes Jelly…And Romance

Up until my thirties, I traveled a great deal, living in many countries with amenities that many would consider below standard. So it wasn’t until I married and settled down in an old farmhouse with an acre of land that I could indulge my fantasy of growing my own food. We planted apple, plum, peach, fig, hazelnut, and cherry trees; gooseberries, strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries; all kinds of vegetables, including an ill-fated attempt to grow artichokes; and finally, lots and lots of herbs. I built a formal herb garden and planted thyme, lovage, rosemary, chives, tarragon, sage, and lemon balm. The one thing I couldn’t get to grow was mint. Yes, the gardeners among you will scoff, but it took me years to get a plot to flourish. Be careful what you wish for. When it finally got going, I had to do something before it took over the entire acre.

So I called upon my sister-in-law, to whom Whirlwind Romance is dedicated. She directed me to an old recipe for mint jelly. Once I’d mastered it, I went on to work up jelly recipes for all my herbs. Good thing we had a basement.

In Whirlwind Romance, my heroine, Lacey Delahaye, moves to an island in Florida and wants to reestablish the herb store she’d owned up North. Florida boasts innumerable ecosystems, from pine uplands, to coastal plains, to palm hammocks—all of which are host to many wild fruits, most of which can be made into jelly. Whirlwind Romance opens as she returns from a foraging trip, unaware that a hurricane had swept through, leaving an unexpected visitor in her mangrove swamp.

Woven throughout the story are descriptions of the wild fruits of Florida and the western Caribbean. For fun, I added recipes to each chapter. Here’s one for a common tropical wild fruit:

 Cocoplum Jelly

The cocoplum is native to South Florida and occurs naturally in cypress hammocks and wetland areas. Evergreen, it forms a dense, clumping bush. Fruit is a dark purple drupe one to two inches in diameter, and ripens May through August. The nut is also edible.

200 cocoplums to make 2 cups juice

2 cinnamon sticks

4 cups brown sugar

1 box (1.75 oz.) powdered pectin

Place peeled plums and cinnamon sticks in water to cover. Bring to a boil and simmer for about 1 ½ hours, or until liquid is dark purple. Remove from heat and strain, reserving the nuts. Add water if necessary to make 2 cups of liquid.

Shell the nuts and chop. In a jelly pan add the juice, nuts, and pectin and bring to a rolling boil. Pour in sugar all at once and bring back to a rolling boil. Boil exactly one minute. Remove from heat, skim off any foam, and ladle into hot, sterilized jelly jars to within ¼ inch of the top. Wipe rims and place the two-piece canning lids on the jars but do not tighten completely. Turn the jars over and leave upside down for five minutes on a padded rack. Turn upright and tighten the lids completely.

Alternative method: Process filled, tightly closed jars in boiling water for 15 minutes.

Cool.

Makes about 4 pints.

I give other jelly recipes in the book for Sea grapes, Kei apples, Beautyberries, Passionfruit, Roselle, and Shining Sumac.

Pirates, Puritans, propaganda, and princes—pieces of the puzzle in the whirlwind romance between a beautiful jelly maker and a mysterious castaway:

Whirlwind Romance by M. S. Spencer

Blurb:

In the aftermath of a hurricane,  jelly-maker Lacey Delahaye discovers a man washed ashore in her mangrove swamp, and tumbles into a sea of troubles. Kidnapped along with her shipwrecked sailor, she is taken to a tiny island in the western Caribbean. There, the two must escape from pirates, defeat a power-made ideologue, deflect a jealous ex-husband, and prove her companion’s birthright.

Excerpt (PG): Slipping Briskly

As she turned to leave, he touched her arm. “Stay a minute?”

How could she admit she had to get out of there quickly or she wouldn’t be able to go at all? His handsome face—the strong chin covered with stubble, the pearly teeth contrasting with his tan skin, not to mention the long, graceful fingers he held out to her—all conspired to lure her closer. Her heart led the way, propelling her to his side. She sat down. “What is it?”

“Lacey…um.”

Her body tensed as desire fought to get out, and she fought just as hard to keep it in. I have to go. I have to…go. “What?”

His words came out in a rush. “Lacey, the other day—the first night—when you rescued me. When we…we…”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Christ.

“I…uh…want you to know I don’t do that on a regular basis.”

His air of shy ambivalence gave her courage. “I see. You don’t have sex on a regular basis?”

“No, no, it’s not that.” He stopped, flustered. “Er, I mean… I don’t sleep with women indiscriminately.”

Should she let him off the hook? Nah. “But you do sleep with a lot of women?”

“No! Lacey, you’re being difficult on purpose. I meant, that I didn’t mean to…you know. It just happened. Forgive me?”

“I—”

Armand interrupted her. “Not that it wasn’t enjoyable.” He seemed distracted, running a finger down her arm. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Too short.” He peered at her. “Lacey, you must know how beautiful you are. You have the most perfect cheekbones I’ve ever seen.”

“Cheekbones?” What the hell is he talking about?

“I’m an amateur photographer. Those cheekbones could belong to a supermodel. Perfectly sculpted. And your nose…” He tapped the tip. “A little pixie nose. It even turns up slightly. Your long, fine hair is the russet-gold of burnished copper pots I once saw piled high in a shop on Martinique. Your eyes…” He closed his. “Your eyes are the blue-green of a freshly mowed cricket field, of the emeralds that grow deep in the mountains, of the lagoon near my home on a blustery day.” He touched her hand. “Then there’s your body—as I remember it—a soft, comfortable, pillowy—”

“Hey!” Lacey shook her head to break the spell. “I think you’ve said enough. Get some sleep.”

She tried to rise, but he slipped his arms around her and drew her close. She wanted to struggle. She tried to struggle. It was no use. The long kiss filled her with a warmth that matched a fire on a cold night, a cup of cocoa, or a hot bath. When he lay back, the warmth turned to blazing passion. The power of it frightened her. I’ve got to go. She ran out of the room before he could stop her.

Whirlwind Romance

Wild Rose Press (2016)

Contemporary romance/Action Adventure
Rating: Hot (R)
358 p.

Buy links:

Wild Rose Press 

Amazon

Bookstrand

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Google

ITunes

Walmart

Indigo

About the Author

Librarian, anthropologist, Congressional aide, speechwriter—M. S. Spencer has traveled the globe. She holds a BA from Vassar College, a diploma in Arabic Studies from the American University in Cairo, and Masters in Anthropology and in Library Science from the University of Chicago.  All of this tends to insinuate itself into her works.

Ms. Spencer has published thirteen romantic suspense or murder mystery novels, with two more on the way. She has two fabulous grown children and an incredible granddaughter. She divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

Blog: https://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/msspencermysteries

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor

GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/msspencerauthor/

Linked in: www.linkedin.com/in/msspencerauthor

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/m-s-spencer

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/M.S.-Spencer/e/B002ZOEUC8/

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#HobbyCareerPassion: Write What You Know – Horses by Pamela S. Thibodeaux

Welcome to my weekly feature where authors share about the hobbies, careers, or passions of their characters.

I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest, Pamela S. Thibodeaux…

Write What You Know…

Horses

Horses have always been my passion. I’ve loved them as far back as I can remember, even owned a few in my lifetime. In memories of dreams past, I recall the desire to be a Veterinarian and work with horses. I’ve also held Bandera, TX near and dear to my heart since I visited the area as a small child with my grandparents. And, as most women, young and old, romance, and the desire for it, is a passion of mine. So how does all of this pertain to my writing?

I write contemporary romance and women’s fiction and my Tempered series is set in none other than, Bandera, Texas!

In Tempered Hearts (book 1), Tamera Collins is the culmination of that long-ago dream and obsession with horses.  A large animal Vet, she describes her love of these majestic animals like this…

“I’ve always had a passion for horses, much to the dismay of my mother. From the time I was very little, my daddy swore I was part horse. He said I squealed with delight every time I saw a pony.”

Hero, Stanley Morrison is the horse lover in Tempered Fire (book 3). His desire is to raise horses… “Not many, but well bred, well trained, high-quality horses. Quarter, Thoroughbred, Walkers, and Arabians; horses for speed, strength, show and beauty.”

Horses play a large part in any contemporary, cowboy series set on a ranch, but the Tempered books are not the only place horses appear in my writing.

In Circles of Fate, the heroine, Shaunna owns a horse. Keri’s Christmas Wish depicts a horse on the cover, one that Keri owned as a child which died when she was a teen. I’ve even written a story of how being around horses while living/working on a ranch in (you guessed it!) Bandera, TX during one of the darkest times of my life virtually saved me. The story is included in The Horse of My Heart anthology (Revell, Oct. 2015).

My love for horses has not dimmed over the years despite decades of not owning and years of not riding, however horses will most likely show up in books and stories for years to come.

All of these books can be found on my Amazon Author Page

Author bio: Award-winning author, Pamela S. Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers Group in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well as creative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with an Edge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamier and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.” Sign up to receive Pam’s newsletter and get a FREE short story!

 

Links:

Website address: http://www.pamelathibodeaux.com

Blog: http://pamswildroseblog.blogspot.com

Newsletter: http://bit.ly/psthibnewsletter

Face Book Personal: http://facebook.com/pamelasthibodeaux

Face Book Author page: https://www.facebook.com/pamelasthibodeauxauthor

Twitter: http://twitter.com/psthib @psthib

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/pamelasthibodea/

Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1jUVcdU

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/pamela-s-thibodeaux

Instagram: https://instagram.com/pamelasthibodeauxauthor

 

 

 

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#HobbyCareerPassion: A Fine Line Between Passion and Obsession ~ Linda Nightingale

Welcome to my weekly feature where authors share about the hobbies, careers, or passions of their characters.

I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest, Linda Nightingale…

A Fine Line Between Passion and Obsession

Morgan D’Arcy

How closely does your passion border on obsession? Quite frequently, for very passionate people, their passion in life is an obsession, particularly those cursed with creativity.  I freely admit that I am one of those people.  For centuries I have dreamed of a woman to be my wife, the first to bear the title of the Lady of St. Averil since 1685. There’s a problem or two with my dream. You see, a vampire siring a child from a human woman is prohibited by Les Elus, the ruling council of the Vampyre.  In fact, such a child is removed from the Vampyre Gene Pool as soon as his/her existence is known. Not only is the offspring killed but both parents suffer the same fate.

The ritual of conception is very exact and very dangerous for the mother. She must be fed the vampire’s blood three times over a short period, then drained near death when she is impregnated.  If the father fails, he loses not only his dream but the woman he loves.

My hope was that my vampire/human child would have the powers of the vampire and the morals and sensitivity of its human ancestors.  The Vampyre have gifts to offer to humankind. Our blood will heal grievous human ills, and temporarily slow aging. I’m sure there will be quite a call for vampire doctors. I hope my child will be a bridge between two different species. Make no mistake—vampires and humans are different species. The Vampyre Effect alters the mortal’s DNA (Isabeau could explain this better than I) and grants immortality to a predator.

All lofty dreams aside, now a mortal woman has become my passion….Isabeau. She’s beautiful and brilliant—a gifted geneticist (which will come in handy). She loves me, too, but enough to stand the test of eternity?  I never dreamed that the woman who’d be my partner in crime would become my passion.  Oh, I still cherish my dream of a race of half-breeds, but she is my focus, and I find it difficult to even think of risking her life to make my dream come true.

Sinners’ Opera tells the story of our folie a deux, our double madness.  Read but do not judge. Les Elus will sit in judgment one day too soon.

Love is a passion. Obsession is a passion. Love and obsession tread the same fine  line as  between genius and insanity. Passion means standing naked before the mirror of one’s desires.  Do you have the courage? I’m not sure I do.

Any ideas?

BLURB:

Morgan D’Arcy is an English lord, a classical pianist, and a vampire. He has everything except what he desires most—Isabeau. As the Angel Gabriel he’s steered her life and career choice, preparing her to become Lady D’Arcy.

Many forces oppose Morgan’s daring plan—not the least of which is Vampyre law.

Isabeau Gervase is a brilliant geneticist. Though she no longer believes in angels, she sees a ticket to a Nobel Prize in Gabriel’s secrets—secrets that have led her to a startling conclusion. Gabriel isn’t human, and she fully intends to identify the species she named the Angel Genome. Morgan is ready to come back into Isabeau’s life, but this time as a man not an angel. Will he outsmart his enemies, protect his beloved and escape death himself? For the first time in eternity, the clock is ticking.

EXCERPT:

Razor-sharp memory sliced through me, jerking me upright.  “’od’s teeth!”

Before the fall, I’d been shot.

Rapid-fire images snapped before my eyes.  I saw my Jag plunging over the guardrail at the top of the Old Cooper River Bridge.  Now, in the silence of a church, I felt the wind whistling past my face as the force of the fall sucked the breath from my lungs and tried to pluck me from the convertible.  Irrationally, I’d clung to the wheel while my beloved roadster sank, in a slow rocking ballet, to the river bottom.

During that interminable swift plunge, I hadn’t been afraid of dying.

Mary touched my arm.  “Be still, hon, or you’re gonna start bleeding again.”

I was in no danger of bleeding to death or dying from any natural cause.  I knew why I’d heard her thoughts, why the aroma of her blood bedeviled me.  I knew who and what I am.

The blood staining her blouse was a miracle drug that could cure the most grievous of human diseases—and secure eternity for a predator. The wound that would have been fatal to a mortal had almost healed.  Within hours after the ritual blood exchange, a fragile yet potent virus had mutated my DNA.  I’d never actually died; would never feel death’s cold hands.  The Vampyre Effect was a transformation from one species to another.  For almost four centuries, I’d been a vampire.

The woman leaned over me.  I heard the blood whispering in her veins, saw the jugular bulging with each strong heartbeat.  Even the scent of my own blood fed the craving.  Hunger wrenched my stomach, the need for blood shuddering over me in flashes of heat.  The pain twisting inside me was a living thing—ugly, urgent, older than the world.  In a vain attempt at control, I ground my teeth until my jaw ached.  My hands clenched into fists, the tendons bunched like steel bands beneath the skin.  I was losing it, my eyes turning red.

“Run, Mary,” I panted, shoving her.  “For God’s sake, run.”

Her hands branded my shoulders.  Need coursed through me.

Her brow puckered.  “How did you know my name?”

“You look like a Mary,” I gasped, trying to crawl away.  “Bloody hell, run, woman.”

 

BIO :

After 14 years in Texas, Linda just returned home to her roots. She has seven published novels, four of which are available from Audible.com in audio. For many years, she bred, trained and showed Andalusian horses. So, she’s seen a lot of this country from the windshield of a truck pulling a horse trailer. She retired from a career as a legal assistant at MD Anderson Cancer Center to write full time.

She has 2 wonderful sons—one in Texas; one in England—and 4 equally marvelous grandchildren.

She loves horses, sports cars, music, and piano, and enjoys dressing up and hosting formal dinner parties.

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/LNightingale

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/LindaNightingaleAuthor

Web Site:  http://www.lindanightingale.com

Blog:  https://lindanightingale.wordpress.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4839311.Linda_Nightingale

Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/lbnightingale1/

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/Linda-Nightingale/e/B005OSOJ0U

BookBub:   https://www.bookbub.com/profile/linda-nightingale

 

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#HobbyCareerPassion: My Secret Rose by Kara O’Neal

Welcome to my weekly feature where authors share about the hobbies, careers, or passions of their characters.

I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest, author friend, Kara O’Neal…

My Secret Rose:

My name is Corinne Taylor, and when I was twelve, I was given a piece of land near an offshoot of Pike’s Run, one of the rivers that runs through my hometown. I’ve always loved nature. Its beauty has helped me escape a strained and unloving environment. And this tract of land is surrounded by pine, oak and maple trees. It’s magnificent. It’s inspired me to create, to nurture, and in this idyllic space I made a garden of roses. Over time it’s grown into an ethereal hideaway with numerous paths of all different types of roses. Ones that climb, ones that sit low, ones that stand tall. Pink, white, purple, peach, yellow, every bush is a surprise of color, and has turned my garden into a riot of exquisiteness.

I didn’t know I had a talent. It came from love, from a yearning deep inside me to be my own person. My mother is stifling and does everything within her power to control me. She even chooses my fashions, which are ruffled monstrosities. I can’t explain to you why I can’t break her hold over me, but at least I’ve found a way to be happy.

I’ve learned so much about roses. There are many different breeds, and each has its own identity. My favorite are the Madame Hardy, from the Damask family. Mr. Hardy bred them for his wife and named the white flower after her. Every time I see the blooms, I think of the love he had for her, and it warms my heart. I hope I’m as lucky as she one day.

Right now my garden is hidden away from the world. Only a select few know about it, which is very wrong. I should share it, and I long to do so, but as soon as my mother finds out about it, I know she’ll do everything in her power to rip it from me. One day, I’ll be strong and fight her. One day, I’ll share my love with all of my friends and the town. For it deserves to be seen in the light.

My roses. So beautiful. And I can make them grow.

 

Blurb:

Corinne Taylor has a secret. And it must be protected. If her mother discovers what Corinne has been hiding, Hell will not describe the place in which she will find herself. Beulah, Corinne’s mother, has proclaimed herself “queen” of Pike’s Run, and no one crosses her, especially not her daughter.

And while Corinne does what she can to guard her secret, her best efforts aren’t enough. War comes to Pike’s Run and the Taylor household when Beulah learns of her daughter’s betrayal. The battle that ensues forces Corinne to seek help from a new arrival.

Jonathan Pierce, a successful lawyer, has come to Pike’s Run looking to find solace from his past. When Corinne asks for his support, her innocence and bravery call to the needs within his broken spirit, and he can’t turn her down. She is capturing his heart, but if she ever learns of his cowardice, she will reject him, killing any hope he has left of finding love.

Excerpt:

She let out a slow breath then drew in another deeply. After a few moments, she lowered her arms to her sides and lifted her chin. “Would you like to see them?”

“Your roses?”

She nodded.

Pleasure spread through Jonathan. “Of course.”

Aware she gave him an opportunity only a handful of others had experienced, he didn’t dare turn down her offer. He should, though. In fact, he should be going on his way, putting distance between himself and a woman who tugged at his basic needs and protective side.

But instead of heeding good sense, he followed her.

When hedgerows appeared, she unlatched a gate and let him in. He hadn’t gone two steps before amazement struck him. He stopped in his tracks and stared at the beauty.

Was it acceptable to even breathe amidst this labor of love? The blooms were open to the five o’clock sun streaming in. The bright orange light danced off of shades of purple, pink and red. Yellow dazzled the eye, along with peach and white.

He felt a nudge at his elbow. He looked down, and the smile directed up at him put the flowers to shame.

“You can walk around. You won’t hurt them.”

The teasing glint in her eyes made his mouth tip up at the corners. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the luscious curve of her lips. Warmth spread through him, but he turned away, avoiding the lust curling inside. Instead of a reply, he went down the stone walk, allowing the glory of her handiwork to delight his eye.

He paused at different varieties, noting the shape of the petals or how they lay against each other. Their fragrance wafted around him, making him want to sit and soak up their loveliness. Which was odd.

When he reached the center, he turned and found her several paces behind him. She hadn’t said a word as he’d explored. He could only describe the expression on her face as one of pleasure. She seemed glad she’d shared her haven with him.

“You did all this?”

She nodded, a blush staining her cheeks.

Even standing amidst the evidence of her talent, modesty enveloped her. He couldn’t help the slight smile that formed. “It’s magnificent.”

“Thank you.”

Should he venture into her world and help her? If he did, he feared the safety of his heart.

Bio:

Born and raised in Texas, the state had to be the setting for my first series. From the food to the fun, like floating the rivers, it is the fire in my blood that inspires me. My family and friends take center stage in my books. My sisters and best friends are my heroines, and my husband created my favorite hero. Love and family are the point of my stories, and I seek to entertain, relieve stress, and inspire people. Books can take one on a journey that one can relive over and over. I am extremely grateful to those authors who did that very thing for me. I learned and I fell in love with their words and characters. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Please visit me at www.karaoneal.com.

 

Social Media Links:

Website –  http://www.karaoneal.com

Bookbub –  https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kara-o-neal

Amazon –  http://www.amazon.com/Kara-ONeal/e/B00FL19TH8/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1465007993&sr=8-1

Barnes and Noble –  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/kara+o’neal?_requestid=845025

Facebook –  https://www.facebook.com/KaraONeal84/

Twitter –  https://twitter.com/KaraONealAuthor

Pinterest –  https://www.pinterest.com/karaoneal7/

Goodreads –  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7278350.Kara_O_Neal

Blog — http://www.karaoneal.com/blog

 

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#HobbyCareerPassion: Finding Your Roots with Family History by Heidi Wessman Kneale

Welcome to my weekly feature where authors share about the hobbies, careers, or passions of their characters.

I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest, Heidi Wessman Kneale…

 

Finding Your Roots with Family History

Image by Mary Pahlke from Pixabay

Family History is one of the biggest hobbies in the world, inspiring millions to learn where they came from. Any famous people in your history? Any amazing stories? You could even be descended from a king.

In my book “For Richer, For Poorer”, Beatrice Nottham has traced her family roots back over a thousand years. Turns out she is descended from Norman nobility, but her roots also come with a family curse…

I can’t claim to have gone back quite that far in my own family history but have been able to trace my line back to French and German nobility and even a Swedish king.

It’s not so much the blue blood flowing in my veins that makes family history so fascinating but the stories of everyday people. Our families did not live boring lives!

A great-great grandmother of mine, Elizabeth Pugsley Hayward, was a Suffragette. She was one of the first women to be elected to a State political office before women were even allowed to vote. This meant she was successfully elected by a hundred percent male vote. She served as a State Representative, then later as a State Senator. She was even introduced the bill to ratify the 19th Amendment to the State Senate, successfully.

There’s a history of strong women in my family, even one who wasn’t a woman.

A 19th Century ancestor of mine was Edwin Pettit, an American Pioneer. When his family emigrated out West, he had to remain behind, as he was apprenticed to a cruel master.

One night, Edwin managed to sneak out and make his way to a pioneer camp. There, everyone conspired to dress Edwin up as a girl, skirts, curls and all. He remained in this disguise for as long as it took until his master, who had come looking had given up.

Not many people can lay claim to a cross-dressing ancestor.

How can you get started in your family history?  Ask your parents, your grandparents, your aunts, uncles and other family members for their stories. Write them down. Get as much information as you can, for once they die, they take their stories with them.

For those who have passed on, you can look them up in Census records, on Family History sites like FamilySearch.org and Ancestry.com. Many public libraries and family history centres offer free access to Ancestry.com.

Don’t feel discouraged if you’re not able to immediately find records of your family. Every month more and more records are transcribed and made public, even records for families that, until now, have been almost impossible to track and trace. For example, the family histories of many African Americans are coming to light, thanks to the tireless work of historians like Amy Tanner Thiriot and genealogists like Thom Reed.

Knowing your family history can give you a sense of belonging, a sense of place. Join millions of fellow human beings around the world who are learning where they come from.

 

For Richer, For Poorer is available in ebook format and as an audiobook.

 

 

Blurb:

The Deveraux line is famous…for a family curse. The rich must marry the poor or lose their prosperity. Peter Baring is the last of the Deveraux and sinking slowly into poverty. But will marriage to his icy business partner save him?

Beatrice Nottham dreams of leaving Earth for a fresh start. But only married couples are allowed to move off-world. Marrying a man she’s unsure she loves will solve that problem…but at what cost?

When Beatrice visits England to research her branch of the Deveraux family tree, she meets Peter and sparks fly. Both question everything they ever believed would fulfill their dreams. If they dare to be together, will the Curse follow them beyond the stars? The answer to breaking its power could lie in the heart of a crumbling tapestry…if they have the courage to try.

Excerpt:

What were the exact conditions of the Curse?

That the richest must marry the poorest? Sure. But other than that? Peter wondered, did Gytha love Phillippe?

She must have, to stay for so long. Or was it love? Did she stay simply so her family could be provided for? If she loved him, would she have cursed him thus? Or was she thinking of her sons? Clearly, she loved them more than anything.

“Peter?” Beatrice’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“Whether or not my marriage to Francie will break the Curse is irrelevant, because last night I decided I’m not going to marry her.” He hung his head. “And forgive me,” he murmured, “I haven’t told her yet.”

He wanted to take Beatrice’s hands, but thought that most improper. He did not know how she was taking this news. She stood as she had through the story of the Curse, one hand wrapped about her waist, the other hand pressed to her lips.

“I don’t love her,” he confessed. “Not one whit. I never did.”

Beatrice closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. “Yet you were going to marry her.”

He shrugged, at a loss for an answer. “I thought she loved me.”

“But you didn’t love her.” Was that disappointment in her voice?

“I liked her,” he hedged.

There was pain in her voice. “But you love the land more? You’d marry her so not only would the prosperity return, but she’d know how to develop the land properly so it’d turn a profit.” She hugged both arms tightly about her. “Or perhaps you love money? Perhaps you see this as the only way of restoring your fortune.”

 

BIO:

Heidi Wessman Kneale is an Australian author of moderate repute. By day, she wrangles computers as a way of supporting her writing habits. By night she stares at the stars in the sky. Noble blood flows through her veins; she is the daughter of kings and can prove it.

Links:

@heidikneale

http://RomanceSpinners.blogspot.com

http://tinyurl.com/heidikneale/

mailing list: http://eepurl.com/c9vM9L

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