A Lady of Many Talents


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Charlene Raddon is a lady I consider a friend even though we have never met in person. She is an exceptionally talented Author and an equally talented Cover Artist and Graphics Designer. I am pleased and honored to feature her work.


The Writing of:

“Writing Taming Jenna was the most fun I’ve had with any book. I love Jenna’s spunk. And Branch’s tough exterior and soft interior makes him my favorite kind of hero. The idea for the story came from an unusual source for me. I was at lunch with my critique group and needed a new story idea so I asked our most imaginative member to give me one. She said, “Write about a woman who has to find a man and the only way she can identify him is by a scar on his bottom.” Ok, sounds a bit kinky, but it challenged me.
Jenna becomes a Pinkerton agent to find her missing father. Her first assignment is to catch a train robber in Utah, and—you guessed it—he can only be identified for sure by a scar on his bottom. Jenna sees the job as a bit kinky, too, but, being Jenna, she plows forward and does her best. Which is pretty good, when it comes right down to it. Too good for the comfort of a certain bounty hunter, one Branch McCauley, who is after the same outlaw. Watching them try to defeat and out-do each other proved to be pure entertainment. Developing their romance provided a new challenge. You see, knowing what her mother suffered when her father disappeared, Jenna swears off marriage. Men? Who needs them? Branch, on the other hand, has reason to hate Pinkertons. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to pull this one off.
Of course I like the story—I wrote it. But judging from the five-star reviews on Amazon, I’m not alone.”

Taming Jenna by Charlene Raddon - 500 smallBlurb:

Deserted by her father at the tender age of seven, Jenna Leigh-Whittington had taught herself to ride, shoot, brawl…and steer clear of the opposite sex. But now, in a lonely Utah canyon, the Pinkerton agent has drawn her gun on a rugged stranger—only to discover that, far from the dangerous outlaw she’d been tracking, he is Branch McCauley, hired gun…and the most irresistible rascal ever to tempt and torment a woman!
If there’s one thing McCauley trusts less than a female, it’s a female who packs a six-gun. But what a woman! Vowing to bring the sensuous hellcat to heel, McCauley has no inkling that their passionate battle of wills has just begun. Taming Jenna will be the most seductive—and satisfying—job he’s ever taken on.


Jenna scowled as she studied the man by the flickering glare of his campfire. He had the right build and appeared close to thirty, Mendoza’s age. But something didn’t fit.
The Denver police chief had described her quarry as a spoiled aristocrat, too busy wooing Lady Luck and every other female to be much of a train robber, let alone a killer. But the rogue in front of Jenna looked too lean and hard to be spoiled, too wary and aloof to be a ladies’ man.
To Jenna he seemed the perfect gunslinger: cold, tough, and ready to spring. Like a big yellow cougar perched on a ledge. Or a rattler, tightly coiled. Either way, his bite would be deadly.
In spite of the cool night breeze, sweat oozed from her pores. She couldn’t forget that lightning draw. Why had she come here? How had she expected to take an outlaw Pinkerton’s other agents had failed to bring in? No, she refused to think that way. She was every bit as capable as any man to capture Mendoza. She had to believe that, the same way she had to do what she’d set out to do. Only one question remained: Was this Mendoza or not?
“Who are you, mister?”
“Who am I? Hell, who are you? ”
Blast! Did no male exist in this empty wilderness who wasn’t so taken with himself that he couldn’t cooperate for a change?
She took a calming breath. A body could catch more flies with honey than vinegar, old Charley Long Bow used to say. Jenna figured flies might fancy the hairy creature facing her, so she decided to try being friendly. “Listen, I smelled your coffee and hoped you might spare a cup, is all. You can understand me being a mite leery of walking into a stranger’s camp without knowing who I’m hooking up with.”
Firelight glinted on the man’s straight white teeth as his whiskers parted in a cold smile. “Don’t recall inviting company, but I’ll play your game. Name’s Branch McCauley. Now it’s your turn.”
His smile unnerved her. It held no humor, only a lethal sort of grimness that cannoned her stomach into her throat and made her wish she’d wired William Pinkerton for instructions instead of going off half-cocked this way. “I’m Jim…Jim White,” she lied.
“All right, Jim, how about some honesty? You come here looking for me?”
“I’m not looking for anyone named Branch McCauley. If that’s who you are, you’ve nothing to worry about.”
The wide, innocent eyes McCauley studied held honesty. He relaxed. “In that case…be glad to pour you some coffee.” He reached for the battered graniteware pot. His visitor’s next words froze him in a half-stoop: “I’d feel more welcome if you’d set aside your gun first.”
Cool as Montana sleet, McCauley straightened, hand poised above his holster. “Reckon you would. Wouldn’t do much for my sense of well-being, though.”
So much for trying to be friendly, Jenna thought. What now? She clenched her knees together to still their shaking and swallowed the fear knotted in her throat.
“Look.” McCauley shifted his weight to one leg. “Why don’t you put your gun away and have a sit? Could be I might know something about the hombre you’re hunting.
Hombre. Sounded Spanish. Like Mendoza. It must be him. She had to get his gun away from him. Surprise seemed the best means. She squeezed the trigger of the .44 Starr. The bullet kicked dirt onto the man’s scuffed boots. He jumped and let out a yelp as though she’d set his feet afire.
“Dammit, kid, going up against me won’t get you anything but a six-foot hole in the ground.”
“Shut up and toss over your gun or I’ll turn them boots into sieves. ‘Course, my sights might be a bit off.” She raised the muzzle toward his groin.
“You made your point,” he growled as he unbuckled his gun belt and tossed it over.
Instead of the fancy weapon she had expected a gunslinger to own, an ordinary, six-gun lay at her feet. No ivory handle or engraved barrel. Only an ordinary .44 Peacemaker, crafted and worn for one reason—to kill. The thought did funny things to her innards.
“All right,” she said, getting back to business. “You aren’t going to like this, mister, but I don’t know any other way to be sure who you are. Drop them trousers to your ankles.”
“Do what?”

Buy Links:

Barnes and Noble

Tender Touch by Charlene Raddon  - 500Blurb:

They had lost everything that mattered . . .

Three nightmarish years of marriage has shattered Brianna Wight’s sheltered world. Leading her husband to believe she’s been murdered, she flees to St. Louis . . . harboring terrible secrets that could be the death of her.

The tragic loss of his Indian wife left Columbus Nigh a wanderer; necessity made him a wilderness guide. But now he finds himself drawn to the enigmatic woman who’s hired him to lead her westward. Her gentle strength stirs his lonely heart . . . her tender beauty arouses his deepest passions.

Would they find love again on a western journey?

But the perils of the Oregon Trail pale beside the murderous wrath of the man who tracks them across the harsh frontier. Briana knows the only way to save herself and Columbus is to risk their tender love. Only then can she free herself from the horrors of the past — and embrace a rapturous future . . .

Buy Links:

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Their love was fated . . .

A mail-order bride from Cincinnati, Ariah Scott traveled all the way to Oregon to Forever Mine by Charlene Raddon - 500marry one man, only to lose her heart to another. What will become of her now? Ever since her father died at the hands of a vengeful relative, Ariah’s life has been shadowed by dark secrets. And now her forbidden desire for Bartholomew Noon fills her with uncertainty — and a secret longing that can never be fulfilled.

And forbidden . . .

From the moment Bartholomew saw Ariah standing alone at the Portland train station. the keeper of the Cape Meares Light was lost. Hopelessly in love with this angelic beauty who is fated to live beside him at the isolated lighthouse as the wife of another man, Bartholomew never dreams that destiny will someday bring them together. Is Ariah truly the woman he can cherish . . . forever?

Buy Links:

Barnes and Noble

To Have and To Hold by Charlene Raddon - 500sm


A woman without a prayer . . .

A widow with two children, Tempest Whitney has had to mortgage everything to repay the money her husband had stolen. But even as she struggles to hold onto her Utah homestead, a scheming rancher buys up her debts, demanding she either get off his land or marry him. Then a dark-haired stranger shows up, claiming to be her dead husband . . .

A man without a past . . .

Buck Maddux spent two years in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. Now a deathbed promise has brought him to Tempest’s homestead. A man without roots, he doesn’t plan to stay — or to feel so fiercely protective of this feisty beauty he saves from a hated marriage of convenience. Suddenly, Buck years for a home, a family, a lasting love. But what can he offer Tempest? The surprising answer lies in the forbidding canyons of an ancient Anasazi tribe, where fortune and danger await–along with a passion more precious than gold . . .

Buy Links:

Barnes and Noble


A woman’s smile . . .

Rosalyn Delaney’s husband, Josiah, vanished six years ago. Following a private The Scent of Roses by Charlene Raddon 500smdetective’s lead, Rosalyn leaves Salt Lake City and boards a train heading to the mining town of Whiskey Ridge, Arizona. She arrives at Rose House, an old mansion reputed to be haunted, only to discover that her missing husband has been killed, and his business partner, Whip Kincaid, is wanted for his murder. Determined to uncover the secrets surrounding Josiah and his death, Rosalyn decides to stay–even though she begins to receive nightly visits from a charming “ghost” . . .

A Ghost’s Kiss . . .

Escaping a troubled past, Whip Kincaid had hoped he could make a fresh start in Whiskey Ridge and open a saloon with his friend Josiah. Now, as a murder suspect hiding in his own house, Whip’s future looks bleak indeed . . . unless he can find the real culprit. But the unexpected intrusion of Rosalyn ruins his plan to sneak out at night to investigate. Scaring her away is his first step in clearing his name, but Rosalyn doesn’t rattle easily. And Whip isn’t sure he wants the lovely widow to walk out of his life — especially when she’ll take his heart with her.

Buy Links:

Barnes and Noble

For Information or to contact Charlene:



Amazon Author Page





Tirgearr Publishing

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Samples of Charlene’s Stunning Work:

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A Novel to suit most Tastes – Willow Springs


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My guest today is Carolyn Steele.

I am thrilled and honored to host her and to be able to spotlight her book –

Willow Springs.



Crissa stared at them with vacant, horrified eyes before shooting out of bed to stand, shaking, in the middle of the room. “Molly!  Something has happened to Molly!  I must leave here. I must get to Molly!”

            “Cristalina, älsking, your friend is fine. It was only a bad dream.”

            “No, Signe, it was more than that. It was a warning. A tecken. I must get back to Willow Springs immediately.”

Crissa Engleson, an immigrant from Sweden, fled Boston hoping to start a new life, unknown and unencumbered, in the West. The quiet Pony Express town of Willow Springs in the Utah desert seemed the perfect spot until the intrigue of her past and rivalries of the town’s leading families envelope her. She falls in love with an Express rider, Drake Adams, but their courtship is thwarted by blackmail and treachery. Crissa must decide which is stronger: her desire for Drake, her own safety, or her love for the two young children left in her charge.

Willow Springs is written for anyone who enjoys Westerns, History, Romance or Intrigue. Men and women alike have expressed great interest in this story.


Chapter 1
“Would you look’a there,” Myrtle Thompson said, nodding toward the door as a young man raced past on horseback.
“That’s not!” Ethel gasped.
“Oh, yes it is,” Agnes chimed in. “That’s the Bateman boy.”
Agnes clucked her tongue. “And with his wife still in confinement.”
“He’s up to no good, I tell you,” Doris said. “It’s shameful.”
Ruth and Mary bobbed their heads in agreement. “Indeed. Shameful.”
Cringing at the cackles coming from the dining room, Crissa peered through the kitchen doors to where the six Thompson sisters dominated the near corner of the room. That table was their table—on the last Thursday of every month, anyway. There wasn’t anything special about this table except that it sat in the corner between the kitchen and the stairway and had a direct view to the front door on the opposite wall. Any comings and goings, and eatings for that matter, were thoroughly scrutinized by the ladies of this table. The unused bar was also within their line of sight, and gentlemen of proper upbringing made sure not to duck behind the bar to refill their flasks if “the sisters” were present.
“Wicked gossips,” Marida whispered. Her simple English was laced with a thick Italian accent. “They usually gone by now. Must be waiting for miners come in.”
For Crissa’s two weeks in Willow Springs, Henders Inn had been mostly quiet, save for the few bachelor shopkeepers who took their meals here. The stagecoach had come in earlier in the evening, depositing four guests for an overnight stay. In the middle of Crissa trying to situate the travelers, the Thompson sisters had arrived for their monthly gossip fest—and to give Crissa a collective looking over. The potatoes weren’t quite as fluffy as usual, it seemed. The corn bread was too gritty, the meat loaf drier than they had remembered it—even the green beans were stringy until Molly informed the sisters that Marida had done all of the cooking, same as usual.
It didn’t seem to matter that Crissa smiled extra friendly or spoke extra politely. She was met with frowns and turned-up noses from “the sisters’ table.”
“Don’a you worry,” Marida tried to reassure Crissa. “They see you not after their husbands, they like you fine.”
Husbands. Crissa had to suppress a shudder at the thought. If I had wanted a husband, I would have stayed in Boston. The last thing she wanted was to get involved with any of the men in the town. Indeed, Crissa considered Willow Springs to be the nearest thing to her idea of purgatory. It was dry and desolate—nothing like the bustling city of Boston or the rich farmland of Uppsala. She certainly did not plan to stay here long.
“Miners?” Crissa asked. “Why will the miners be coming?”
“Is payday. They come for dinner on way to Ely.” Marida gave Crissa an exaggerated wink. “Are sporting women in Ely.”
“How many will be coming?” The thought of more strange faces to watch made Crissa edgy.
“Depends on if miners more hungry or more . . .” Marida winked again.
Gasping at Marida’s boldness, Crissa turned back to study the guests in the dining room. “We do not have many tables left tonight.”
“No worry,” Marida informed her. “When miners come, many these people will leave.”
“Why? Do they not like the miners?”
Laying her finger alongside her nose, Marida gave Crissa a sidelong glance. “Today payday at mine. You watch out for them. They no gentlemen.”
“But, Marida, surely—”
“You listen. You watch out.”

® 2014 Carolyn Steele. All rights reserved.

Buy Links:


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Powells Books

Seagull Books

Deseret Books

Books & Things



Born and raised in Utah, Carolyn Steele was introduced to western novels at a very young age by her grandfather, the son of a gold miner. She has been writing technical and marketing communications for most of her adult life. Her nonfiction articles have appeared in numerous national magazines. She earned her undergraduate degree in Communications from the University of Utah. Married and living in Salt Lake City, Utah, Carolyn loves researching obscure history then weaving it into stories. She also enjoys family dinners with her children and grandchildren, photography, travel, golf, reading, and all forms of needlework–in her spare time.

Carolyn’s second book (not a sequel), will be released in time for Christmas.

Social Links:


Facebook Author Page



Brand New Release – Rise From Ash


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Rise from Ash - Promo BannerRise from Ash
(Book Two – Daughter of Fire series)
Michelle Irwin


Bottom Drawer Publications is proud to present Rise from Ash, book two in the New Adult Urban Fantasy series Daughter of Fire, by Michelle Irwin.


Book Details:

Genre: New Adult Urban Fantasy Romance
224 pages – 92,300 words


Love has cost Evie Meyers everything. Wounded and alone, she has no choice but to learn how to survive without becoming the monster she is thought to be by the man she loves.

When she discovers a cryptic message from that very man, Clay Jacobs, her mind is thrown into turmoil. It’s second nature for Evie to run, but there is no escaping the memories of their time together. While she is certain it’s a trap, she longs to discover the true meaning of his words. With heart battling mind, her choices send her on a collision course with what was once lost, leaving her life hanging in the balance.

Can Evie rise from the ashes of her charred dreams, or will she burn in the attempt?.

Buy Links





For more information:



About the Author


Michelle Irwin

Michelle Irwin has been many things in her life: a hobbit taking a precious item to a fiery mountain; a young child stepping through the back of a wardrobe into another land; the last human stranded not-quite-alone in space three million years in the future; a young girl willing to fight for the love of a vampire; and a time-travelling madman in a box. She achieved all of these feats and many more through her voracious reading habit. Eventually, so much reading had to have an effect and the cast of characters inside her mind took over and spilled out onto the page.

Michelle lives in sunny Queensland in the land down under with her surprisingly patient husband and ever-intriguing daughter, carving out precious moments of writing and reading time around her accounts-based day job. A lover of love and overcoming the odds, she primarily writes paranormal and fantasy romance.

Find Michelle at:

Western Romance – Canadian Style


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I have a very special lady with me today – Brenda Sinclair.

Brenda, along with Caroline Clemmons and Margaret Tanner was one of the first authors to reach out and encourage me when I first began writing. Her friendship is valued and hopefully one day I will meet this amazing author and lady in person.


Thank you for having me join you today. I’m delighted to share some of my musings about my historical western romance stories in the Spirit Creek Series.

Did you have all of the plots roughed out for all six books, or at least, thought about in advance? Or do you plot each book one at a time as you go?

The title, No More, has never changed since the first draft over ten years ago, but CoverFinalLG-NoMorethe plotline evolved over time and several scenes were cut. Of course being of the opinion that this ‘brilliant writing’ *wink, wink* couldn’t be lost forever, I toyed with the idea of writing a trilogy. And some of the rejected scenes worked in book two. Then the trilogy morphed into a six book series when plotline ideas wouldn’t stop popping into my head! I suppose that’s a good thing. I prepare a detailed plot summary (yes, I’m a plotter) of each book before I start writing. And I write down ideas for scenes as they occur to me, but plotline changes are constantly evolving even as I write.


How do you keep all your recurring characters straight?

That is no small feat when you’re keeping track of an entire town’s population! Mind you, several recurring characters appear in every book. But new citizens have arrived and a few births and deaths have occurred. A huge poster board occupies an office wall with color-coded Post-its covering every square inch. Blue means a deceased citizen, yellow is for children and pink is adults currently alive. I love writing about so many unique citizens, and I’ve had reviewers mention they enjoyed having the characters from an earlier story appear again in future books.

What can you tell us about the books in your Spirit Creek Series?

How often have we heard the old saying Variety is the spice of life? Too frequently to count, right? We all enjoy variety in our leisure activities, in our hobbies, in the movies we watch and, of course, in the books we read. When I plotted the Spirit Creek Series, I kept this concept of ‘variety’ in mind.



Book One, No More, finds a recent widow and a wealthy rancher involved in a marriage of convenience to provide their children with two parents. Of course, their secret feelings for each other get in the way, along with a number of other problems facing their blended family.



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Book Two, No Time, was written for readers who enjoy lots of plot twists with their romance. Ellie Thomas is a schoolmarm who considers the town’s lawyer a friend who stands by her when she needs help. But Robert has loved her from afar for years, and he hopes to win her heart.




Book Three, No Chance, was written for readers who enjoy a few steamy scenes in a romance story, so beware if you’re not a fan of a ‘hot’ read. Chance Maxwell and Sadie Peterman heat up the pages and each other while Sadie learns a few harsh life lessons.



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Book Four, No Ties, is another sweet romance between Sheriff Ernest Jones and schoolteacher, Ivy Paterson who told a little white lie years ago, shortly after arriving in Spirit Creek. When she recognizes a stranger in town, she realizes her fibs are coming back to bite her in the bustle.





Book Five, No Way, is my latest release. This story involves a troubled widow who arrives in Spirit Creek by mistake. Ada Perkins is keeping secrets and hoping to escape a troubled past while starting a new life. When someone from her past arrives in town, she could pay for her secrets with her life?




Book Six, No Hope, featuring an abducted schoolteacher who was a minor character in No Chance and a widowed rancher, will be released in autumn 2015. Can you guess who the heroine will be?

index 4The Christmas novella, No Peace, ties up one lose end from No Ties. With Blake Connor’s life in chaos, he is torn between proposing to the love of his life, Gertie the hotel waitress, and just leaving town to keep her safe.

All of the books in the Spirit Creek Series, print and/or ebook versions, are available on





Thank you so much for letting me join you today! I hope the readers enjoy reading my series as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. Happy reading, everyone!

Thank you being here today Brenda, I wish you the very best with your series.

For more information about Brenda and all of her books visit:




Red Hot!!


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Fire Sale Final.1(¯`·.·´¯) (¯`·.·´¯)
`·.¸(¯`·.·´¯)¸ .·
×°× ` ·.¸.·´ ×°×
99c Sale – Get it while it’s hot! 
Ever since Clay, a soldier for an organization tasked with ridding the world of non-humans, stumbled upon the secret of her birth, Evie’s been on the run. Now he’s back, and she’s unprepared as he forces his way into her heart.
★★★Buy Links★★★

New Release for Lovers of Romance and Weddings


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If you love contemporary wedding romance, enjoy a touch of the paranormal–witches, psychic pets, ghosts–or if your favorite beach read is romantic comedy, historical or military romance, don’t miss this engaging boxed set!index

–All stand-alone wedding stories (no cliffhangers)
–Includes 14 New Releases written expressly for this set

–Limited time only (Buy your copy now!)

15 Romances by USA Today and National Bestselling Authors

Whether real or only in the hearts of the bride and groom, the magic of weddings is undeniable. And irresistible! As these 15 enchanting happily-ever-afters by bestselling and award-winning authors prove.

From sweet to spicy, the romances bundled into this set cross time and unite hearts, cast spells of laughter, battle wedding jitters and fight back tears, while weaving love’s hopeful magic throughout 1400 pages.

Her Wedding Wager by Leigh Michaels, National bestselling and Award-winning author. Unless Celia can marry a titled gentleman before Lady Stone’s house party ends, she’ll end up in an arranged marriage with her distant cousin Simon. It’s Simon who’s wagered she can’t win the most important bet of her life, so why is he the only one who can hold her attention?

The Last Wedding at Drayhome (Breens Mist Witches) by Aileen Harkwood, author of paranormal and fantasy romance. Never underestimate the power of a witch and warlock in love who have nothing left to lose.

The Dress by Eve Devon. Two couples, 400 years apart. From a masquerade ball in Venice 1615 to a wedding in England 2015, can a dress laced with magic weave its spell through the fabric of time?

Second Chance Bride by Raine English, USA Today bestselling and Award-winning author. She thinks she’s marrying the man of her dreams, until a telepathic rescue dog leads her to someone else… Will this bride-to-be say “I do” to the wrong man?

Two Hearts Surrendered by Tamara Ferguson, Bestselling and Award-winning author. After years of fighting their feelings, Kelly and Luke share a night of passion at her sister’s wedding.  But will one night of enchantment be strong enough magic for Luke to surrender his heart to the woman he loves – once this military hero returns home as a disheartened wounded warrior?

Something Borrowed, Something Blue by Lynda Haviland. She has a wedding to crash–until love gets in the way!

Heart of the Secret (Witches of Lane County) by Jody A. Kessler, Bestselling and Award-winning author of new adult paranormal romance. A 500 year-old curse, a witch who will do anything to marry her one true love, and the heart of a secret that will either divide them or bring them together…forever.

The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel by Jane Lark, National bestselling author of Regency historical romance. How do you fight a calling that comes from your soul?

A Wedding Across the Winds of Time by Bess McBride, National bestselling author of time travel romance. Darius and Molly found each other Across the Winds of Time. Now, it’s time for their wedding!

Kiss This by L.L. Muir, National bestselling and Award-winning author. You never expect the florist to catch the bouquet…

Caution is a Virtue by Jennifer Gilby Roberts, author of Regency romance and women’s fiction. How much is too much to risk for love?

Loving Lindy by Jan Romes. In order to become the bank’s new Vice President, Gunther Justin has to be “settled.” With Lindy McPherson posing as his fiancé everything is set to go off without a hitch–until real feelings get in the way.

With this Kiss by Heather Thurmeier. Can a simple kiss under the Bridge of Sighs wield enough magic to reunite former lovers, or will what happens in Vegas simply stay in Vegas?

Real Magic by Elsa Winckler. She’s the bridesmaid, he’s a best man. Will the magical evening stay just that or will it turn out to be real after all?

The Wedding Guests (A Tassamara Short Story) by Sarah Wynde. When unexpected guests attend Akira and Zane’s wedding, lives will change forever. But for better or for worse?

Great Value, Buy Now:


Winner – Series


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The winner of the Series Category in the 2015 Easychair Bookshop Competition is Destiny by JL Perry.This category had 11 Entries.

Judges Comments:

“I laughed, I cried, I loved every word”
“I couldn’t put this down”
“This is the best series I have ever had the pleasure of reading”



Brooke gave up her dreams, relocating to another state with her husband Jake so he could pursue his, but when he commits the ultimate betrayal against her, she’s lucky to escape with her life.
After moving back to her hometown, alone, she runs into Logan, the man who helped her, all those months ago. From the moment they first met, Brooke felt that they had a connection, and now she finds it stronger than ever.
There is one thing stopping her from acting on her feelings towards him, though…her past.


From the moment he saw Brooke, Logan knew that she was the one he’d been searching for his whole life. Can he convince Brooke to let go of her insecurities so they can be together?
What will happen when Brookes past comes back to haunt her? Will Logan still be around her to help her, or will she be left to face it on own her own?

Join Brooke and Logan as they share their dramatic story in My Destiny, the first of a two part instalment in the Destiny series. Their story is told in dual POV.


My Forever is a continuation of Brooke and Logan’s fairy-tale love affair that started in My Destiny.


Brooke finally lets go of her insecurities and accepts what’s in her heart…her undying love for Logan. After everything they went through in the beginning of their relationship, Brooke’s hopes of a happy life with her soul mate are crushed when tragedy strikes them yet again.

LoganLogan finally has everything he ever wanted. Now that the threat to Brooke’s safety is behind them, all he wants is to live out the rest of his days with the woman of his dreams. Unfortunately, we don’t always get what we want. He has no idea that over the next few years they will face their toughest challenges yet.

Will their love for each other be strong enough to survive what lies ahead? Or will their fairy-tale finally come to an end?

Join Brooke and Logan in the final and dramatic conclusion to the Destiny series.


Jacinta’s story takes place seven years after the day Brooke and Logan Cavanagh saved her from the violent clutches of her father. Her mother has now remarried and Jacinta has a new step-brother, Connor, whom she adores.Jacinta

After Jacinta’s step-brother Connor moves to Sydney, she decides to move back there to live with him.
She’s still so damaged from her violent past that, at twenty years of age, she has never had a serious boyfriend, and is still a virgin. So her best friend, Cassie, convinces her to have a one-night-stand with a stranger before her twenty-first birthday.
The next day, Jacinta is surprised to find she’s actually upset that she will never see him again, but would not take back the memories of that night for anything. She also feels that she is way too damaged to ever have a serious relationship anyway.
Unbeknownst to her, their paths will cross again. Will the attraction she felt that night still be there? Or will she regret it ever happened?


Mason doesn’t do relationships…ever. He has sex with random women, often. When he meets Jacinta though, things change. He finds there’s a deep connection between them that he just can’t explain.
When she does something that not only leaves him feeling crushed, but extremely pissed, he is left feeling lost. He doesn’t even know her real name and has no way of finding her.
But when fate brings them together again, will he be able to forgive her for what she did? Or will he forget about that one night they spent together?

I’d been living in Melbourne for just over six months now, but I wasn’t happy with where my life was heading. I moved here with my husband, Jake, after he’d been offered a position in a large law firm, Cavanagh and Associates.
Melbourne’s a beautiful city, renowned for its restaurants and art, but it’s not home—it’s not Sydney. The weather’s a lot cooler here. Sure, it still gets stinking hot in the summer, but it also rains a lot.
Cavanagh and Associates was one of the largest law firms in the country. Jake told me that between their Sydney and Melbourne offices, they had over one hundred lawyers on staff. It’s a very prestigious firm, being the main reason Jake jumped at the chance to work for them. They specialised in a vast range of law, but most of their clientele were either rich, famous, or both. Jake was hoping that after a few years in Melbourne, he’d be able to transfer back to the Sydney branch of the firm. That was our goal, anyway.
Jake and I had been married for five years. Up until our move, I was content with my life and with our marriage. Since moving to Melbourne, everything had changed. Well, Jake had changed. I’m still the same person I was five years ago. I wasn’t sure if it was the stress of the job or the crazy long days that Jake had been putting in, but my husband was no longer the person I fell in love with all those years ago.
I gave up so much to move to another state with him, and I did it so that he could further his career as a lawyer. Lately, I’d been regretting my decision.
Before moving here, we’d been living in Sydney, and I was working at a large dance studio as both a teacher and choreographer. It was a good job and I really loved it. Teaching was my passion in life…my dream job, so to speak. I’d been saving all I could for three years now so that I could fulfil my lifelong dream of opening my own studio.
Since we’ve been living in Melbourne, I’ve had a few good job offers, but Jake made sure to express that he was no longer happy with me working. He told me that since his salary had almost doubled, I should give up my silly dreams of dancing and concentrate on being a good wife.
My dreams aren’t silly; I am a good wife!
Sometimes he made me so angry with his chauvinistic ways. All Jake wanted was for me to stay home all day, looking after the house and him. He obviously didn’t understand how important dancing was to me. With the exception of Jake, dancing was my life.
I miss teaching my dance classes but, at least since moving here, I’ve managed to secure six students to whom I teach piano. I give lessons on various days during the week. Apart from the piano lessons, my life consisted of cleaning the house, cooking, and waiting around for Jake to come home.
I’d love to start a family some day; however, there’s never any mention of having children—at least not in the near future. When we first got married, Jake had wanted children, but sometime over the last few years, he decided that being a father no longer fitted into his life’s plan.
I was a good wife and I’ve always done just as he asked, but giving up my dreams of teaching dance is where I draw the line.
As I lay in bed that night, waiting for Jake and worrying about what the future holds for us, I could feel my eyes getting heavy. I looked over at the clock on my bedside table. It was nearly 11:00 p.m., and Jake still wasn’t home from work.
As I drifted off to sleep, I had no idea that in less than twenty-four hours, my life as I knew it was to be turned upside down, before spiralling out of control. I was also unaware that destiny would step in and play its part, changing the course of my life forever…

Winner – Novella


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The winner of the Novella Category in the 2015 Easychair Bookshop Competition is Cowboy Bred, Cowboy Born by D’Ann Lindun. This category had 37 Entries.

This story comes from the Cowboy Up Anthology.

Judges Comments:

“A beautiful love story”
“A true 5* read”
“I loved every word”
Freedom or family?  Only love can make the choice.
Photographer Alannah Murphy refuses to be tied down. She watched her parents struggle to hold onto their dairy farm until it killed them. The mere thought of the same fate makes her shudder. When she meets rancher Sterling Gentry she has to face her fears, or lose him.
Sterling Gentry longs for someone to hand his ranch down to. Like his father before him, he has sacrificed everything to hold onto the land his ancestors settled. But finding Ms. Right proves harder than he imagined. Then he meets Alannah Murphy with her big city ways. How he can ever take a chance with a woman exactly like his mother, who abandoned him when he was a child?
Despite their determination to stay the course they’ve each chosen, attraction pulls them together as steadily as a nail to a magnet. Can these two find a way to mesh Alannah’s need for freedom and Gentry’s desire to hold onto his land?
Still snapping photos, the woman approached him. When she came within speaking distance, she waved. “Hello.”
“Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in the middle of the road? Don’t you know better than to stand in the way when somebody’s herding stock?”
Her mouth opened and closed a couple times. “I didn’t think—”
“Hell no, you didn’t think,” Gentry shouted. “Damn it anyway.”
“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “The shot was just so good…”
The shot? She’d ruined hours upon hours of exhausting work because she’d wanted a picture? Who the hell would do something so stupid?
Only a damn greenhorn.
For the first time he noticed her get-up. A straw hat only a city girl would wear, floaty pink top with tiny straps that left her bare shoulders exposed to the unforgiving Arizona sun, cut-off jean shorts and red cowboy boots. Daisy Duke personified. He shook his head in disgust.
Reality crashed over him.
The New York photographer his mother had enticed out here, hoping an article in The Cowboy magazine would bring attention to the Santa Gertrudis cattle they raised.

Winner – Crime/Mystery


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The winner of the Crime/Mystery Category in the 2015 Easychair Bookshop Competition is NightWatch by Linda Hall. This category had 32 entries.

Judges Comments:

“This book kept me on the edge of my seat”
“The clues are there but I was still kept in suspense”
“A beautifully crafted mystery”
Desolate Maine shores… Murder… And peace slipping away on the outgoing tide…

For yacht delivery captain, Em Ridge, having a billionaire’s daughter go overboard on her first captaining job is not a good beginning.

The sailboat is new, state of the art, her crew on this trip include two close sailing friends. But an unknown fourth, who can’t even tie a bowline, and the unruly owner’s daughter turn the idyllic trip into an adventure not wanted. Two years ago Em buried her husband, her soulmate, her sailing buddy, and with him buried a secret. As hours on the open seas slide by, secrets are resurrected that tie Em’s past to a present, awash with murder and deception. Will Em’s career go overboard? Will the investigating detective help her or hurt her? Any why does the best boat delivery captain on the east coast pull at her heart strings?
The oft foggy coast of Maine holds secrets it does not want to give up, and a lot of bodies can be hidden in The Pine Tree State’s largest city.


Chapter 1
I was in the middle of a Jesse dream when Kricket disappeared. It was the best Jesse dream I’d had in a long time, and I wanted to stay in that place forever.
We were sailing. We always sail, the two of us, in Jesse dreams. We were out in the middle of the bay on my old wooden catboat, the one I had before I knew Jesse, before he was such a part of my life. I sold that boat years ago to someone who trailered it to Lake Ontario. But dreams are like that, full of curiosities and strange chronologies, yet somehow making full sense at the time.
The wind was a steady ten knots, the sun warm on our necks. We moved effortlessly on the tops of the waves as if across silk. I leaned back, held the tiller with both hands and pressed my sandaled feet down onto the leeward side. The creaking of the pintles, the whoosh of the water beneath us, and the wind filling the sail were the only sounds. We didn’t talk.
We don’t talk in Jesse dreams.
Down, almost at water level, Jesse was winching the sail in tighter, tighter, one beat-up boat shoe braced against the bulkhead. I looked with longing at the curve of his bare ankle. I wanted to reach out, trace my fingers along its bone, cradle it against my cheek. It had been so long. Too long. Almost two years gone. Yet, in some ways, it will always be yesterday.
I wanted to call out to him, but have learned not to in Jesse dreams. If he turned to look at me, would I see the face with the sun-ruddied grin? The mussed hair always in need of a cut? Or would he stare at me with cold, unseeing eyes, face streaked with blood? Would it be a stranger’s face even, which turned to gaze up at me?
Jesse dreams always hold a sharp edge of terror that leaves me breathless and gasping when I finally claw my way up toward waking. Yet, despite this, I crave them, hunger for them. I will take the horror—all of it—for one moment more with Jesse.
He was calling to me? He never speaks to me in Jesse dreams. I held my breath and watched the muscles in his forearms as he gripped the lines tightly, barely moving as the boat made its way toward ever-deeper water. He moved his foot, and I saw it on the bottom of the boat, wrinkled, wet, lying there—the postcard. I looked away as fear rose in my throat like bile.
Em? He was tapping at my foot, touching it. Over and over. Tap. Tap. Louder.
I tried to speak, could not.
I blinked, opened my eyes wide, and in an instant came fully awake in the half-light. I scrambled out of my berth, knocking my glasses to the sole as I did so.
“Wha-what?” I bent down, grabbed for them. No, I wasn’t on a catboat with my dead husband. I was the delivery captain of Blue Peace, a fifty-two-foot luxury sailboat, and we were somewhere out in the Atlantic Ocean en route to Bermuda. It was night, and I was being shaken awake by a crew member. No one wakes a captain unless it’s a Mayday-Batten-Down-The-Hatches-All-Hands-On-Deck-9-1-1 emergency.
I put on my glasses, tried to focus. Rob Stikles, one of my three crew members, was standing in front of me, opening and closing his mouth, Adam’s apple bobbing. The boat moved unnaturally in the sea swells, and I grasped for a handhold.
“You turned the engine on,” I said.
“Yeah, um…”
“The winds die? If you’re on watch, Rob, you don’t need to wake me up every time you have to turn on the engine. I presume you know how to pull in the sails and turn on the engine—”
“It’s—it’s—not that…”
“What then?” At eye level, we were exactly the same height.
“It’s Kricket.”
I sighed. He woke me for Kricket? “What? She forget to take her seasick pills again? Is she puking over the side at”—I glanced at the brass clock affixed to the teak bulkhead—“two thirty in the morning?”
I pulled a gray sweatshirt, one of Jesse’s, over the T-shirt and sweats I wear when I sleep on boats. “Let me go talk to her.” I moved determinedly into the main salon. Kricket would be there, I was sure, lying on a settee in a fetal position, clutching at her stomach and demanding that we turn this boat around right now—right now—and take her home.
Behind the nav station, Joan, my chief navigator, was sleeping soundly, only the tiniest scruff of gray hair peeking out from under her thick woolen Hudson Bay blanket. I switched on one of the overhead lights, and the salon glowed eerie red. To maintain our night vision, we use only red LEDs down below after sunset. The light made Rob’s face look ghostly, and it reminded me of tenting trips with my two younger sisters and holding the flashlight under my chin and growling at them, and them screaming and holding on to each other until our parents demanded that we all go back to sleep.
“Where is she, then?” I made my way toward the stern and to Kricket’s aft stateroom.
Rob followed me. “She’s not seasick. She’s um, she’s gone.” He wailed this out, face flushed. His hands would not be still. His fingers kept crawling up the sides of his squall jacket like crabs. Joan stirred slightly.
Gone? What did he mean? Gone, as in dead? But, no one dies of being seasick. I pressed my palm into my forehead to get rid of the last remnants of Jesse. “Rob,” I said, quietly now and trying to muster a certain amount of command to my voice. “Where is she? Where is Kricket?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. Well, not for sure. She’s…” He paused. “She’s not on the boat.” He stopped.
I raced up the companionway and out into the icy air which ripped at once through my sweatshirt. “Where is she?” I looked frantically around me but all I saw was black ocean. “She fell off the boat? Is that what you’re saying? How did this happen?” I studied the chart plotter.
“Yes.” He was behind me and shivering.
“Did you hit the Man Overboard button?”
“The what?”
“On the GPS.” I turned and looked him straight in the eyes. “When you saw she went overboard, did you at least hit the Man Overboard button?” Even though I tried to keep my voice even, it was painfully strident at the end of all my words.
“I don’t—No. I thought maybe she went down below. So, I didn’t. No.” His teeth were actually chattering.
The boat made a sideways lunge as we plunged through a sea swell. I grabbed the edge of the binnacle. Carefully studying our track on the chart plotter, I wrenched the wheel around. We would retrace our track. Maybe, just maybe we would be lucky. Once I had again engaged the autopilot, I raced down through the companionway. Rob followed.
“Joan! Peter!” I yelled. “Man overboard! We need you! We need everyone.”
Rob slumped down onto a settee and put his head in his hands. I didn’t have time to evaluate whether he was crying or not. I didn’t know Rob. My other two crew members, Joan Bush and Peter Mauer, were almost family to me. Joan has always been like my wiser, older aunt. She and her husband, Art, were closer to me than my own family after Jesse died. Peter, cook extraordinaire, is like my hunky little brother. I’d known Peter forever. I first met him when I was in high school and taught sailing as a summer job. He was the brightest and smartest little kid in my class of ten-year-olds. I connected with him again when he was a cook on Windjammer cruises, where I crewed for two summers. He’d gone to chef school for a year, but then dropped out to work on boats. We’d been buddies ever since.
We hadn’t needed a fourth crew member, yet Peter asked to have Rob come along. His friend was trying to build up his sailing résumé and needed more blue-water experience, he told me.
Yet, after less than a week on the water, I seriously doubted whether Rob had ever been on any kind of boat before. Something as easy as tying a bowline or a simple clove hitch had him fumbling all his fingers. And why had he not thought of hitting the MOB button? There was something else, too, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He seemed very familiar to me, like I should know him from some place. And it wasn’t a good memory.
On top of that, it was clear that there was no love lost between Peter and Rob.
Then there was Kricket. She was the owner’s daughter and had come aboard her father’s yacht with great reluctance. I’d been told that her father ruled his family like he ruled his corporations and felt his wild daughter needed a bit of an “outward bound” experience.
“And put her to work,” Roy Patterson had told me on the phone. “I’m going to be asking you if she pulled her weight.”
That little part of the equation had proved difficult, if not impossible.
“What’s going on?” Joan sat up now and ran her fingers through her hair. A few strands of it were sticking up at the back. None of us looked our best this time in the morning.
“Kricket’s missing,” I said. “Possibly overboard.”
“What! How? Was she wearing her PFD?” Joan quickly pulled a long-sleeved shirt over her slim frame. I frowned. We had not yet reached the Gulf Stream, where the water suddenly warmed. If Kricket had gone into the frigid Gulf of Maine water, it would be unlikely she would survive, personal flotation device notwithstanding.
“Yes.” This came from Rob.
I turned to face him.
“She was wearing her PFD,” he said.
“That’s something, anyway,” I said.
Peter was by now entering the main cabin in sweats and a Mount Gay Rum T-shirt that showed off his biceps. He ran a hand across his unshaven face.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“It’s Kricket,” I said. “We think she’s overboard.”
A look passed between Peter and Rob, a look I didn’t have time, at this point, to evaluate. I grabbed my yellow squall jacket from the hook at the bottom of the companionway and my PFD, stepped into my sea boots and headed topside. Too much time had passed with no one at the helm. Even on autopilot, a careful eye needed to be kept for stray containers from ships and other floating debris.
Joan followed. The wind on this night held a bitter edge and sliced into my face like a sea urchin’s spines. In all directions, the ocean was a molten gray of constant movement. It wasn’t white-capping, but the swells were high. It caught at me, as it always does, that here we are, a mere speck of flotsam on a huge indifferent sea. I tugged the hood of my jacket up over my head and pulled the elastic toggles tight under my chin, wishing I’d remembered my wool toque. Next time I went down below, I’d get it, along with my gloves.
I tried to collect my thoughts as I followed our jagged line backtracking on the chart plotter. I increased the RPMs and let out a bit of jib to steady us. I tried to remain calm, but I kept swallowing. My cold hands shook. The boat was pitching and yawing in the waves, and I fought back a flutter of nausea. Even in the calmest of weather, the sea is never still. It moves back and forth and sideways, a motion that experienced sailors get used to. It’s called “getting your sea legs.” But right now all I was feeling was sick.
“Em,” Joan said behind me. “Why don’t you and I give this boat a thorough going over? There are lots of places where she could be curled up sleeping, cubbyholes and things. Peter and Rob can watch.”
Her idea gave me hope. It would be a good idea to exhaust all possibilities before I called a Mayday.
The opulent interior of this custom-built Morris sailboat included two staterooms with their own heads, plus a crew cabin consisting of two bunk-like berths. There were many places where Kricket could be even now. Joan and I went into her stateroom. Because Kricket was the owner’s daughter, she got the best room, the aft cabin with its queen-size bed and private head. As captain on this trip, that room should have been mine, but I took the second-best bed, the one on the forward starboard side.
This was the first time I’d been in her room since we left Canada, and I stood in the doorway. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that someone had come in here and trashed the place. Shirts, jeans, sandals, bikini tops and bottoms, and bottles of this and that hair product and makeup looked as if they had been cast here and there in no particular order. Her phone lay across her unmade bed, its earbuds trailing across the mound of clothes like worms. Her Louis Vuitton suitcase was open and heaped with clothes—scarves, sundresses, tank tops, shorts and more.
I rooted through the pile of clothes on her bed. She wasn’t underneath. I opened the door to her private head. This was a girl, I realized, who was not used to having to pick up after herself. A cylindrical bottle of designer shampoo rolled back and forth across the sole in rhythm with the sea. I picked it up and put it in the sink.
A feeling of raw fear began to gnaw at my insides. This was my first captaining job after getting my Coast Guard captain’s license, and Kricket had to be okay. She had to be. I promised Roy Patterson that I’d take good care of his daughter. Back out in her stateroom, I opened the door to her hanging locker. This is where most sailors keep jackets, fleeces, woolies and foul-weather gear. Not Kricket. Her locker was hung up with pretty summer dresses. Clearly, she was looking forward to party time in the Caribbean. Without speaking, Joan and I went through all of her cupboards and cubbyholes before we left that room to search through the remainder of the boat.
After we had exhausted every locker, every cubbyhole, every closet, every closed and open space on the entire boat, I, Captain Emmeline Ridge had to concede that the absolute worst had happened. We were out in the middle of the ocean, a day from landfall and Katherine “Kricket” Patterson, the daughter of the very rich owner of this magnificent yacht, who’d given me my first-ever captaining job, had truly gone overboard.
I made my way to the nav station. With shaky fingers, I picked up the mic on the SSB radio.
I said clearly and distinctly and slowly, “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is Blue Peace, Blue Peace, Blue Peace. We have a man overboard and missing. Repeat, we have a man overboard and missing. We are at latitude—”

New Cover Reveal – Savage Stalker


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Title: Savage Stalker

Series: Savage Angels MC #1

Author: Author Kathleen Kelly

Cover Designer: RBA Designs



Savage Stalker

Savage Angels MC #1


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Katarina Saunders. Kat to the world, international rock star. Lead singer for The Grinders.
Until she has an accident that ruins her career and sends her running into the mountains, away from everything and everyone.
Dane Reynolds, President of the Savage Angels MC. Fierce, strong and loyal. He’s had his eye on Kat for a while now and has been waiting for her to come to him but he’s had enough of waiting. He’s decided it’s time to make her his.
But so has her Stalker, he’s been waiting for far too long…
Can Dane save Kat? Or will her savage stalker get to her first?


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Savage Fire

Savage Angels MC Book 2


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Kathleen Kelly was born in Penrith, NSW, Australia. When she was four her family moved to Brisbane, QLD, Australia. Although born in NSW she considers herself a QUEENSLANDER!!
She married her childhood sweetheart and they live in Brisbane with their two furry kids. A British Short Hair called Grace and a Burmese called Jack .
Kathleen enjoys writing contemporary, romance novels with a little bit of erotica. She draws her inspiration from family, friends and the people around her. She can often be found in cafes writing and observing the locals.
If you have any questions about her novels or would like to ask Kathleen a question she can be contacted via e-mail: kathleenkellyauthor@gmail.com or she can be found on Facebook. She loves to be contacted by those that love her books.





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