Ash Watts ha esattamente la vita che vuole: una fiorente carriera, uno splendido ragazzo e un appartamento con una vista favolosa su Los Angeles. Ma il suo mondo perfetto crolla quando apprende della morte prematura della sua unica sorella. Quando atterra a Freedom, in Alabama, non trova solo una piccola città ad attenderlo, ma anche segreti che potrebbero cambiargli per sempre la vita.
Kaleb Gibson, cowboy nato e cresciuto a Freedom, aveva trovato la sua migliore amica in Annie Watts dal momento in cui era arrivata in città. La sua morte ha lasciato un buco nel suo cuore e, nonostante il fratello di Annie abbia i suoi stessi capelli scuri e i suoi stessi occhi verdi, Kaleb non riesce a perdonarlo per aver trascurato la sorella quando lei aveva bisogno di lui più.
Alcune rivelazioni contenute nel testamento di Annie uniranno Kaleb e Ash in modi che non avrebbero mai immaginato. Sarà in grado Kaleb di rispettare le ultime volontà di Annie senza uccidere il suo amato fratello e senza rivelare un segreto del proprio passato che potrebbe distruggere tutto? E Ash resterà abbastanza a lungo da capire che Freedom potrebbe regalargli una vita ancora più perfetta?
“Buongiorno, miei cari. Ho deciso di regalare una copia cartacea di “Hope”, grazie alla cortesia della Triskell Edizioni.
ciò che dovete fare è lasciare un commento con il vostro indirizzo
email e il nome del cowboy che vi è piaciuto di più tra quelli
incontrati nei libri.
La mia stilosa assistente sceglierà un vincitore il prossimo fine settimana.
Tammy Wynette was right. Kids do say the darndest things. Those of us with the wonderful little soul-sucking parasites will know the unbridled laughter that comes with some of the random stuff our rugrats spew forth.
I post a lot of my random conversations with my children on my Facebook wall, and my friend, Mary, is always telling me I should write them down and make an altogether different book from the one I usually write. The biggest difference of all being that you really can't make this shit up!
Let's start off with the time when Alex was very young and playing on his toy phone. I was in the kitchen when I heard him throw the phone down and declare, "Blucking phone!" I knew what he meant to say, which beggared the question of how many times I'd sworn on the phone, so I admonished him for saying a bad word. His response? "But, Mummy, I only said blucking I didn't say barst'd."
Then, of course, one particularly difficult bedtime, in the attempt to get maybe just sixty more seconds out of me, he got up for the umpteenth time to inform me that he didn't want to get up, he was just coming in to tell me his hair was growing. I must confess, that is one of my favourites. Along with watching him put his Teddy on the naughty square for a time out and instructing him that while he was there he should think about why he was there.
Of course, it didn't end there. When he entered year four he told me he was excited because they were going to be playing with giblets in class. My first thought was, I hope they'll be wearing gloves, followed by, what the hell are they doing with the inside of a chicken? So I asked him. "What are you doing with giblets, Al?" "Well," he said. "We're going to feed them and clean their cage and hold them." After staring blankly at him for several moments I realised what he was talking about. "Do you mean gerbils?" "Yes. That's what I said." No, love, it really wasn't.
Oh and when we got our new car and were deciding whether to give it a boy's name or a girl's name. Alex suggested it would be a good idea if we waited until we went to get petrol and then had a look underneath to see which sex it was.... and yes... he was deadly serious.
Gracie is just as bad, if not worse. She's the more practical and caustic of my sproglets. There are beautiful Kodak moments such as the time when she turned 9 and asked me not to stop singing her special song to her. I of course replied, "Not even when you're 99." To which she said sleepily, "I love you mummy.... but you do know you'll be dead when I'm 99 don't you?" Kodak moment gone.
And this week's classic when she found out I didn't breast feed her. "Thank God. I wouldn't like the taste of breast food. Boobs are for lying on, not eating on."
Which was followed by an even better one by Alex... "Mum why do cannonballs eat people?" He meant cannibals and was most miffed with me when I nearly laughed up a lung.
There are so many I couldn't possibly remember them all, so I suppose I should start writing 'em down. Even if it's just for them to look back on in year's to come.
What about your mini-me's? What are the little conversations that have stuck in your mind?
My new release, Just Jack, is out now. At heart I am a big softy,
so writing Just Jack was a way to bring together some of my favourite things –
the magic of winter and snow, fairy tales, fantasy, and romance.
When the line between
fairy tales and magic, and the real world become blurred, can love really
Leo Marsh is having a bad day. He just caught his boyfriend
cheating on him, and not for the first time, then he falls, quite literally,
for a man who has to be too good to be true.
When Leo slips and falls on some ice in front of Jack, Jack
sees something all too familiar in Leo's eyes. For over fifty years, Jack has
existed in a solitary life of ice and bitterness. Just like Leo, he was
betrayed by a man he loved, and swore no one would ever break his heart again:
he gave up on love, and it seemed love had given up on him.
But if by fate or magic, Jack and Leo find their paths
crossing for a second time, and with a little guidance from friends, dare to
take a chance on each other. The problem is, Jack isn't the charming and
uncomplicated guy Leo thinks he is. When Jack gave away his ability to love, he
became something else, someone cold and unloving. He became Jack Frost.
As Jack and Leo get closer, Jack is left torn and confused.
Jack yearns for anything that reminds him of his humanity, but the truth is, he
feels nothing, not warmth, not love, and he knows he might never be able to
love Leo the way he deserves to be loved.
It was seven in the morning, barely light. The early risers
heading for work were up and out in their driveways, complaining about the cold
as they defrosted their cars. The sidewalk was covered in fresh snow, which
glistened beneath the man-made lights and was, as yet, undisturbed by human
feet, just a spattering of prints from birds and what was possibly a cat. Jack
loved the cold, and he smiled as a chilling breeze circled him, carrying with
it the fresh scent of the day and the crisp brown leaves that had fallen from
the trees. The prickle of cold against his skin was one of his favorite
feelings, like a thousand icy fingers pinching at his arms and face. God, how
he loved it.
Opening the top button of his jacket, he savored the cold
against his chest and gently traced his fingertips over his chilled skin. He
breathed deeply, content with his icy touch and the feel of the cool air
whipping up around him. What he wouldn’t give to be wrapped up in a blanket of
cold. To slip inside the deliciously chilled wind and zip it up as if it were a
sleeping bag made just for him.
Holding out his hand in front of him, Jack encouraged the
breeze into a spiral that wrapped around his arm and caused a delightful shiver
to pass through him. The air glowed the most beautiful shade of blue as it
danced around Jack, and his chest ached from the knowledge this beauty was only
for him—and those like him—to see. Anyone watching would think he was mad. They
wouldn’t see the dance of blue and silver, nor would they hear the wind’s
angelic song reverberating in the air.
Jack stroked the breeze as it snaked through his fingers,
gently drawing moisture from it and into the palm of his hand. He rotated his
fingers, spinning the moisture into a sphere, and then gently teased it with
his icy breath until the sphere hardened. The size of a tennis ball, the sphere
became a ball of ice, and Jack flicked it into the air and caught it.
“Perfect,” he said.
The ball was smooth, flawless, and transparent. He reached
out his other hand and dragged his fingers over the hedge he passed. The leaves
of the hedge crackled and curled in on themselves beneath his touch, which left
them coated in wintry white frost. All he needed now was someone to have a
little fun with. He grinned at the thought.
A dog barked, and Jack looked ahead. “Perfect,” he said
again and teased the ball between his finger and thumb.
Love Lane Books are running a competition to celebrate the
release of Just Jack. There is a chance to win a $15 gift card for Amazon/Are
and 2 e-books. You can enter via Rafflecopter HERE
Meredith Russell lives in the heart of England. An
avid fan of many story genres, she enjoys nothing less than a happy ending. She
believes in heroes and romance and strives to reflect this in her writing.
Sharing her imagination and passion for stories and characters is a dream
Meredith is excited to turn into reality.
Desdemona Darkly is the first in a new series by story teller extraordinaire, Mathew Ortiz! In this story we meet Mickey and Hugh, who are in fact meeting each other! Mathew is one of my favourite authors and weaves a world that pulls you in and characters you fall in love with, as they are falling in love with each other - with a good dollop of naughtiness and a wicked sense of humour.
Blurb: "Are we rolling?" "Yes Mr. Sherwood. Just say the lines as we rehearsed." "Got it." Mickey nodded and sucked in a lungful of air. Blowing it out, he began. "Welcome to Desdemona Darkly, your premier online site for adult toys and accessories. I'm here to introduce myself and tell you about our site and staff. My name is Mickey Sherwood Co-Founder and CEO of Desdemona Darkly. My staff and I are committed to providing you with only the highest quality intimate products and superb customer service. We have the online site to order from or if you wish, you can speak to one of our customer service team members, if you have questions with your order. You can also call us if you have any questions at all, regarding our products. Our phone lines are open twenty-four seven for your convenience. Making you happy and satisfied is our primary goal, here at Desdemona Darkly. Thank you again for choosing us, for your personal pleasuring needs."
Mickey grinned. "Was that good?"
"Excellent Mr. Sherwood."
Mickey slid out of his chair, grinning. With this new commercial, he was hoping to increase sales for his company. So far everything was a success in his world, except his love life. Phfft, what else is new? Flicking on his phone he checked his messages. He had stopped by the studio to film the commercial before heading to the docks. A customs official, a Mr. Hugh Brannough, was cocking up the shipment of some of their badly needed merchandize. Well Mr. Brannough, I'm coming for you!
A shiver suddenly raced down Hugh's spine, as he sat at his desk at the docks. I wonder what the hell that was about? Shrugging, he went back to work… BUY HERE!
Last night was definitely the night the hormones came home to roost in our house.
Remember that little baby you brought home from the hospital? The one that slept for the first three months. Ate everything you gave to him. Only cried when he was hungry? No? Oh, just me then. 'Cause that's the baby boy I had. There weren't even any terrible twos. He was a happy go lucky, sweet little boy who did as he was told and when I said jump asked politely, "How high, mama." Okay, maybe not quite like that, but I can dream.
Don't get me wrong, he's still a sweet little boy, but since he turned eleven he has... well... turned!
The sudden pitches in his voice when he's upset or shouting which (although highly amusing) indicate that one morning he's going to wake up with a voice like Barry White and frighten the crap out of me. Then there are the mood swings - oh dear God the mood swings! Where he alternates from normal, to "I hate you" to full on exorcist. I'm talking head-spinning, pea-souping, priest-punching, the whole nine yards!
And just when you think it can't get any weirder, along come the emotional outbreaks. The tears that appear from nowhere for the most bizarre reasons. Yesterday he wandered into the front room with tears streaming down his face to tell me he'd just gone up a level on the Xbox game he was playing. Yes, you heard me right! Tears of joy because of a video game, followed by the tears of sadness over the same game because someone blew him up!
Then, quick as a flash, he's my baby again. The same, kind, sensitive little soul he's always been, leaving me wondering what the hell just happened. I went through puberty, I know I did. But I don't remember being like this! Is it a man thing? Oh dear God, what happens when he notices girls? Or finds a hair on something?
I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for this. I think I might move out until it's all over!
The first Sunday Serenade of 2015 is one of my favourite songs... and this is my favourite version... especially when you're snuggled under the covers on a wintry Sunday morning. Have a wonderful day my lovelies :)