BLURB:

Scuba instructor Mia Whitman has traveled to Bonaire to forget, not forgive, the man who broke her heart. But trouble is brewing in this Caribbean island paradise — above and below the waterline. When Mia witnesses a crime, she becomes a target, and even she has to admit that having a Navy-SEAL-turned-New-York-City-cop at her side has its perks. Ryan Hayes has a knack for saving her life and stealing her heart — a tricky combination for a woman on the run. Before Mia can stop herself, she finds herself in deep — in love and in trouble.


Excerpt from “Windswept” by Anna Lowe
 
          “And our last guest today—” Mia nodded toward the late arrival “—is…”
          She watched as he lifted his hands toward the hood. Strong, tough, tanned hands that suggested he spent a lot of time outdoors chopping wood or scoring touchdowns or wrestling Bengal tigers or some such thing. He was bare-chested under that hoodie, as a stack of perfectly sculpted abs showed. Too bad Mia had sworn off men, because this one could have featured in a pinup calendar: Scorching Hot Divers of the World.
          Then he threw the hood back, and everything in her screeched to a halt. The kind of stop that comes when you slam into a brick wall after roaring along at full speed. Her breath, her circulation, her thoughts — all on pause.
          God, please. No. Not him.
          Because she knew those piercing green eyes. The ruffled brown hair. The strong, square jaw. She knew every curve of his face, every contour of that hard body just as well as he knew hers.
          In other words, intimately.
          A little sigh went up from the female guests at the sight of that face.
          “Hello, Mia,” he said in a voice so low, it might have been a whisper.
          “You…you…you…” She scrambled for something to say.
          Stanley leaned in with the camera. Mia wasn’t sure who she was closer to punching, Stanley or her ex-lover.
          Probably her ex-lover. Her Navy-SEAL-turned-New-York-City-cop ex-lover. The one who hadn’t bothered sharing those minor details of his life in the four weeks they’d been together.
          Four sizzling weeks. Four fun weeks. Possibly the best weeks of her life. He’d swept her right off her feet without even trying, and she’d fallen for him from day one.
          Right now, though, her hand squeezed into a fist. The tiny bump where his nose had once been broken — the only imperfection on that striking face — made a handy target.
          “Ryan,” she managed.
          “Mia,” he replied, equally tight-lipped.
​

If you like alpha men who are in the habit of rescuing women in need, then you'll love Windswept. It is book three in the Serendipity Adventure Romance series. This short tale includes intrigue, danger, and sizzling romance. Ryan is a former Navy Seal, and is now a cop. Mia, the dive instructor, who witnessed something she shouldn't have and becomes a target. Ryan and Mia had history before back in New York.  Ryan runs interference as they escape together. 
 
This is fast fun read, especially for dive fans and military romance lovers.

Blurb
The town’s favorite troublemaker, Avery Hamilton, is all grown up and has returned to Warm Springs—this time to stay. She used to envision following in her grandfather’s footsteps and opening her own general practice. But, that dream was before. Before she made the mistake that derailed her life, a mistake she’s tried hard to put behind her. Returning to the one place she loves most in the world will help her heal, but not before the man she’d left waiting forces her to confront her past.
 
Everyone’s favorite cop, Nick Holloway, has his sights set on making detective, but when the one woman he thought could’ve been the one blows back into town, his world tilts on its axis. While focused on his future, his life starts to unravel, both professionally and personally. And, the one person Nick never saw coming is the one who hates him enough to stop at nothing in order to ruin his life. Even if that means hurting the people he loves.
 
Nick and Avery must find a way to let go of their pasts to secure a future, but if the man out for revenge has his way, they may not get the chance.
 
Hook
The girl he’s always wanted and the man who wants him dead, but he never saw coming, will converge in Warm Springs. It’s up to Nick to get the woman of his dreams to admit her feelings and to save them both from the faceless man from his past.
 
Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01695HA5C?keywords=christina%20kirby&qid=1444960059&ref_=sr_1_2&sr=8-2
 
Excerpt
One last morning of freedom. That’s what Avery had before her first nightshift at the new medical center. Her first job as an attending, she reminded herself. Finally. After three years of residency, this was it. Twelve more hours and her career would begin.

She’d spent the previous night low key, though her nerves jumped inside her. She’d played cards with Honey and Vera at the house, and then reviewed some notes, after they’d gone to bed.

“Make sure you get some sleep today.” Honey sipped her morning coffee from her favorite floral mug. “You don’t want to be dead on your feet on your first night.”

Honey was right, she did need to draw the shades and get in a nap soon, but first, she had to alleviate some of her nervous energy.

As the first glimmer of sun appeared and the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed, she jumped up from her chair, unable to stand the early morning tranquility any longer.

Honey took her attention away from the newspaper and eyed her over her glasses. “What are you doing, child?”
Avery slid into her jacket and zipped it. “I need to go out for a little while.”

She smiled and leaned over to peck Honey goodbye on the cheek. It almost seemed like Avery was a little girl getting ready for her first day of school as opposed to a grown woman starting a new job.

“I’ll see you when I get back, before I go to bed.”

The wind and grass rushed by in a blur as Avery increased the throttle and shifted into the next gear. This was what she needed before her job started. A job where she’d be confined inside for days at a time. Before she started saving lives, she craved the chance to feel the warm air, the speed, the freedom of the open road. She glanced at the RPM reading and shifted again, this time smiling inside her helmet.

The pastures on either side of the road were beautiful as the early morning sun sent shafts of light streaking across them changing the muted colors to bright jewel tones. The green corn stalks were alive and full and that’s exactly how she felt as she came up over the hill. Alive.

A siren cut off and on. She glanced in her mirror and sure enough a police cruiser was behind her, lights flashing. Her stomach dropped when she saw the speedometer. There was no way she was getting out of this one.

Pulled over to the side of the road, kickstand out, but still straddling the bike, she waited for the officer to make his way to her. She could hear the loose rocks crunch beneath his government issued boots as he approached, but she didn’t turn. What could she say?


“Ma’am, do you have any idea how fast you were going?”
​
At the familiar voice, she pulled her helmet off and smiled. “Hello, Nick. Miss me?”

 
Author Bio:
Christina Kirby holds a degree in Public Relations from Auburn University. She worked in banking for four and a half years before deciding to become a stay at home mom to her two sons. Moving every couple of years because of her husband’s job, Christina has had the opportunity to meet all kinds of people and live in many different states. Fortunately, writing is something she can take with her no matter where she lives. Christina is an avid reader of romance, young adult and anything having to do with pop culture. She also knows a copy of Entertainment Weekly and a chocolate chip cookie can cure anything.
Find her on:
Twitter: @CKirbyWriter
FB: https://www.facebook.com/christina.kirby.395?fref=ts
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9791223.Christina_Kirby
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorchris0192/
Sign up for her newsletter on her website: www.ChristinaKirbyBooks.com
​

Courting the West 
10 Western Novels 
Available as a boxed set for a limited time! 

NYT, USA Today and Bestselling authors bring you ten Western romance novels featuring sexy cowboys and sultry heroines. This boxed set is loaded with a variety of sweet to steamy romances designed to entice your senses and warm your heart. 

* * * 
Painted Montana Sky by Debra Holland, NYTimes and USA Today Bestselling author. 
Can two lonely hearts find their hearts' desire under the majestic Montana sky? "You'll fall in love with this town and these characters." 

Daisy (Brides of Seattle series) by Kirsten Osbourne, USA Today Bestselling Author. Can she possibly find love and contentment or is she doomed to a life of regret? "I definitely recommend this book and this series to Everyone!" 

His Brother’s Wife by Lily Graison, USA Today Bestselling Author. A high society mail 
order bride with a 14 year old bridegroom and his devilishly handsome brother all under one roof. What could possibly go wrong? “An emotional roller coaster ride, right up to the end.” ~Charlene Botha 

Tame a Wild Wind by Cynthia Woolf, Amazon Bestselling Author. Revenge is a dish best served cold. “Love, trust and lust just in the right combo...” 

Sleight of Heart by Jacquie Rogers, Amazon Bestselling author. A strait-laced spinster, a gambler with magic hands, and a fortune to be won—by sleight of hand, or Sleight of Heart? “It's a full house with romance, high stakes and adventure. You can always count on Jacquie Rogers for some laughs, and she doesn't disappoint...Enjoy the ride!” 
~Meg Mims, author of Double or Nothing 

A Hero’s Heart by Sylvia McDaniel, Amazon Bestselling author. Wade Ketchum is searching for his only surviving sibling when he finds a ready-made family. A 1996 Golden Heart Finalist. 

Laying Claim by Paty Jager, Amazon Bestselling author. Jeremy Duncan heads into the 
Yukon Territory by dog team in the middle of a blizzard to keep one strong-willed, business-minded beauty alive. “A wonderful plunge into the Alaskan gold mining era.” 

Sarah Sunshine by Merry Farmer, Amazon Bestselling author. Only love can stop history from repeating itself before it’s too late…. “Loved Sarah’s story! Makes you 
feel good about life and how you can overcome your past.” 5 Stars Amazon Reviewer 

Chasing the Dead by Keta Diablo, Amazon Bestselling author. A sinister ghost chases 
Deacon, Madrid and the Indian maiden, Sacheen, across the desolate landscape of New 
Mexico. “The old west and paranormal all wrapped into one page turning book. A 
five-star read!” The Book Heathens 

The Most Unsuitable Courtship by Caroline Clemmons, Amazon Bestselling author. Storm Kincaid wants justice; Rena Dmitriev wants vengeance. “More than just another western novel. A well-plotted action thriller that's full of romance and passion and peopled by very likable characters.” 

We left off in Chapter Three when neighbor Herman Fremont was about to explain the legend attached to the house.

She’d doubted the man would stay considering how cold he was. “I want to hear it!” The words came out more like a demand than a polite request. Still, Herman didn’t act offended.

“It’s more of an urban legend, a rumor that stuck around a long time, from the end of the nineteenth century. Construction had started on your house. A sea captain commissioned the house for his beloved wife. He wanted to broadcast his financial success in the form of an elaborate home. People at that time didn’t live in McMansions they couldn’t afford but managed to finance. Nope, they paid cash for homes, primarily to build one. Loans existed but weren’t popular. Peculiar belief that you shouldn’t live in a house you couldn’t afford.”

Donna nodded her head while she fisted her hands inside her jacket pockets. What she really wanted to do was shake Herman and yell Get on with it! A brief history of the home loan wasn’t necessary.

“The construction foreman had a brother, a dashing fellow who always had plenty of money, looks, and charm. The prevailing gossip was he was a jewel thief. Squired all those loaded old broads around, and their diamonds vanished. None of them would point a finger at him although most people thought he helped himself as payment for his services.” Herman stopped, punctuating the story with a wink.

“I got it.” She volunteered that she understood the jewel thief brother doubled as a gigolo to prevent Herman from explaining what services the jewel thief offered. Ick.

“At the time, a major crime occurred in the nearby city..” Herman stopped his story as Taber approached the two of them.
The detective held out the coffee cup to Donna. “It’s probably cold now. You could nuke it when you get home.”
Herman looked at the detective, then back at her, then around her, pointing. “Look, there he goes!”

The three of them watched Daniel follow the blonde with more wiggle in her walk than gelatin poured into a pair of pantyhose.

“No!” The word exploded out of her mouth as she darted across the lawn. Her hand landed on Daniel’s arm before he reached the porch stairs. “Stop! I need you.”

The frustrated blonde-haired woman put both hands on her hips and glared at both of them. Oh, the annoyed stare? Really, she thought that would work on her. Think again, sister. She stepped in front of her brother, cutting off his view of the siren, channeling her disdain into a freezing look directed toward the female. “My brother needs his jacket back, too. I imagine a turn in the washer will eliminate the stink of cheap perfume.”

“Donna!” Her brother’s use of her name reminded her once again she stepped over the line of polite behavior. The door of the house slammed as the angry woman’s response.

Here she thought she could run a B and B. “Daniel,” she snapped back. “What were you doing marching into Delilah’s house?”

He blinked a couple of times. ‘Delilah, who’s Delilah?” He angled his head in the direction of the house the blonde had slipped into. The front door opened suddenly, and Daniel’s jacket flew out. “You must mean Deidre. She had a creaky door she wanted me to look at once I explained I’m in construction.”

Her brother must have missed her eye roll as she reached for his jacket. “Daniel, I love you, but how many houses have you entered to fix lonely women’s leaky faucets, stuck windows, and cabinet doors that resulted in something extra.”

 Daniel took the offered jacket and shrugged it back on. His habitual aw-shucks grin appeared, melting some of her ire. “I’ll admit I’ve had a few run-ins with lonely women. A few might even rate up there as succubus status, but I’m married now.”

“Exactly.” She held her hands in front of her making a clapping motion. He got it. Finally. “That’s why you don’t check out the various household problems.”

“All right. You don’t have to go all big sister on me. I understand, but what if she really did have a squeaky door?” He shook his head as if she were somehow the person at fault.

 Everyone in their family readily accepted that Daniel received the looks and charm. That must have been all he got because his intelligence was MIA sometimes, or he was thinking with a different head. “If the door bothered her that much there are plenty of people she could have called to fix it. She could have used a YouTube video for instructions. She could have gone to the hardware store and asked for help. All perfectly acceptable ways of dealing with it. So much better than allowing a total stranger into her home.”

Her brother looked chastened, which didn’t make her feel any better, but somehow her point may have sunk in. All the same, why not hammer it home. “Maria wouldn’t like you going into a strange woman’s home.”

A huge laugh exploded not from her brother, but Taber, who looked silly carrying her oversized handbag. “You’d be lucky not to be bunking on the couch for the foreseeable future,” the detective told him.

Daniel acknowledged the detective with a nod. “You’re right.”

Really. He basically repeated what she said, although he used different words, and suddenly it’s right coming from a man’s mouth. Maybe he needed someone different to point him in the right direction. Her brother did have a tendency to tune her out after years of helpful directives. She should know better than to offer advice since unsolicited help is not always welcome. It was a habit; one she’d honed over the years.

The two men conversed as if they were old friends. Donna’s lips twisted as she considered what they had to discuss. Murder. Mayhem. Her. Their laughter indicated it might be the latter. Yay. All of her neighbors had disappeared, including the informative Herman.

Donna inquired, “Where’s the old man? He was in the middle of a story.”

Taber stopped guffawing long enough to answer. “He went home complaining about it being cold.”

The wind chose that moment to expel an icy gust, rattling the few leaves stubbornly clinging to their branches, despite being dead. Leaves staying on a tree signaled the tree was dead, rather like a ghost, sticking around and being unaware it was a ghost. Maybe the two weren’t the same. Her botany information might not be totally on the level either. The tidbit came from a man she went out with once on a coffee date. The tree bit had served as the highlight of their conversation. She shook her head realizing her thoughts had followed a mental rabbit.

Great. Now she’d never know about the legend. Wait. She knew his name. Shouldn’t be that hard to look up his address. At his age, he wouldn’t be the type to have an unlisted phone number. The street name she knew. All she had to do is bake some of her trademark macadamia and chocolate chip cookies and show up with a plateful. The idea had merit. Her lips went up, imagining the elderly man confiding all the needed facts to catch the killer. Of course, she’d be the real hero and would merit a small blurb in the paper mentioning her inn.

“Why are you smiling?” Her brother’s question alerted her that both men’s attention had switched to her.
Smiling, really? She must have done it right that time.

Taber stared at her, his hand resting on her purse strap draped over his shoulder. No reason for levity, especially in a murder investigation. It gave her the appearance of being some insensitive, macabre figure. “Ah yes, well honestly, it’s you holding my purse. You look so…” Before she could finish, he pulled the bag off his shoulder, holding it away from him as if he’d discovered an open vial of smallpox inside.

“Don’t drop it.” She darted toward her purse, snatching it by the shoulder strap. “That wasn’t a cheap bag, even on clearance.” Hands wrapped firmly around the strap, she hoisted it to her shoulder. “I was only joking.”

The detective nodded and then winked. Was that a wink? Difficult to tell with those bushy eyebrows. Could be the morning sun was too much or something flew into his eye. Didn’t mean a thing. “Am I good to go?”

“Sure. I have your number, and you’ve got mine. Give me a call.” He lifted his eyebrows a tiny bit before adding, “If you think of anything else.”

“Will do.” She nodded, before stepping close enough to her brother to elbow him. “Let’s go, Dano. We can reconvene at The Good Egg while I explain your incredible effect on women, again.”

Her brother wrapped an affectionate arm around her shoulder. “I remember the lecture. Women expect ordinary guys to be friendly, polite, and helpful. They expect handsome men to be arrogant jerks. When a woman encounters a handsome, charming man, like myself, they go a little bit crazy.”

“Ah, spoken like a condescending jackass. There’s hope for you yet. It would help if you managed to insert the word wife in every other sentence. My beautiful wife enjoys the sound of a squeaky door. My resourceful wife can fix a leaky faucet. I can’t wait to get home to my loving wife because every moment spent away from her is agony.”

Daniel chuckled slightly as she knew he would. He tightened his grip and then relaxed his hold. “You’re right. I’ve been single so long I haven’t got the marriage behavior down yet.”

“Hmm, I noticed, as has Maria, I’m sure.” His truck sat close to her small car on the crowded street. Parking would be the first issue for her. A discreet parking lot in the back would be a necessity. What was she saying? “Oh, just assume every woman is hitting on you because 99% of the time they are.”

“Will do. Do you believe every guy is hitting on you?” He made a wry face at her.

Her brother thought he had made a funny. “Good one. Of course, not. I’m not you. Rumbling over the hill into fifty-one, no man looks twice at me unless he has a heart attack.”

Nope, men didn’t go for tall, intelligent women who spoke their minds, especially if they had some mileage on the odometer. They preferred the petite fluffy females who flattered their fragile egos. It certainly explained why her covert attempts at online dating never resulted in anything; something never mentioned to anyone in the family. They all already feared she’d die alone and be eaten by her cats. She’d have to have cats first for that to happen.

“Donna, I know I’m the little brother, and you think I’m clueless. Sometimes, you’re the clueless one.”

A snort and a vigorous shake removed his arm. “Are you out of your mind?”

He laughed, “Maybe to disagree with you might be classified as insanity. I’m a man, and you aren’t. I noticed plenty of men over the years giving you the once over. The only problem was you never stared back.”

The thought made her bark with laughter. Her laugh resembled a seal’s somewhat instead of the usual ha ha most people had. Her amusement always sounded like har, har, har, rough and discordant to the ears. It made her self-conscious and unable to laugh at most things she even found funny. It also firmed up her reputation as a serious, no-nonsense nurse.

BLURB

Stella’s college life transforms from sweet to rancid when her boyfriend asks her to do the unthinkable. How did she end up holding her best friend’s future in her hands? Anything she does will trigger the disastrous conclusion. If that isn’t bad enough.


       Add in a lunatic minister, a demi-goddess, and a walk through another dimension full of vindictive shrubbery and wildlife. It’s a freshman year  that she may not survive.

EARLY REVIEWS

"An enchanting tale that could not be truer about life, love and being a witch."  Kaylin R. Boyd, Author

"A book about young love and finding one's path, woven beautifully in a tale of magical time travel and adventure." Jan Raymond, Author

'A magical journey of a girl finding her way and mission in life' ~Karlee Lawrence, Reviewer

"Bold, new, and enchanting. Rayna Noire draws you in with this book. Once you pick it up you won't want to put it down! Best book I have read in ages!" - Sarah Velociraptor Conklin, coolest person in the universe & reader.

EXCERPT
One of the girls immediately stood up, teetering a little in her sky-high heels. Shouldering her expensive purse, she remarked over her shoulder. “We’ll be back when the cute guys are working.”

 Her friend got up more slowly, returning Stella’s glare with a malice-filled one of her own. “Don’t think it’s over, bitch. You may be head witch, here, but not for long.”

Instead of answering, she merely watched the girls leave. Silence at the right time could be powerful too. Too many people made the mistake of thinking they had to respond to everything. Miss I’m All That thought she’d wounded her by calling her a witch. Hah, she had no clue how right she was. As for being a bitch, well it took one to know one.

 A few of the students started clapping. A couple more thanked her. She nodded, accepting their appreciation and muttered, “No problem.” Keeping her back straight, she strode toward the open door, sanctuary. She preferred to be on the anonymous side of the Plexiglas. Closing the door behind her, she released a huge sigh. Thank the Goddess that was over.

Lauren popped to her feet and wrapped her in a huge hug. “Thank you so much, I could never have gotten them to leave.” Stella was about to admit her doubts about getting the two to leave when Mitch came over. Lauren still held her in an impromptu embrace when Mitch awkwardly patted her on the back. The slight contact left behind a psychic handprint. Her eyes met his over Lauren’s shoulder. Did Mitch follow the Goddess? Have a bit of magick in him?

Technically, everyone possessed some earth magick, but few knew how to wield it. Often simple divination magic came under headings like hunches and lucky guesses. Others blessed with the ability to enchant often used their skills as a form of manipulation. Most who identified with the earth-based religions enjoyed spending time in nature. His warm hazel eyes twinkled as he spoke, “You were glorious.”

 Glorious? No one had ever called her glorious. A bubble of warmth expanded in her chest. If all it took to be glorious was to kick two mean girls out of the lab, she might do it more often. The problem was if she did, she’d end up losing her job because one of their daddies would accuse her of harassment, terroristic threatening, or similar nonsense. A huge smile blossomed on Mitch’s face, animating his features. Goodness, he was even handsome when he forgot about trying to make himself invisible. A decent haircut, new frames, and more self-confidence and he’d be the one the mean girls came back to attempt to wrap around their manicured fingers. The thought dimmed the warmth spreading through her. None of them was worthy of Mitch.

 A familiar scent rode the air. It didn’t blend with the smell of dust, monitor wipes, or the metal smell of CPUs. Her nostrils flared a tiny bit as she tried to draw the aroma in. Sandalwood, she was almost sure of it. Sandalwood incense was a favorite for meditation, but there would be no incense in the lab. It could be sandalwood oil, which sometimes showed up in men’s cologne and love potions. 

Rayna Noire is an author and a historian. The desire to uncover the truth behind the original fear of witches led her to the surprising discovery that people believed in magick in some form up to 150 years ago. A world that believed the impossible could happen and often did must have been amazing. With this in mind, Ms. Noire taps into this dimension, shapes it into stories about Pagan families who really aren’t that different from most people. They do go on the occasional time travel adventures and magick happens.

www.facebook.com/AuthorRaynaNoire

www.twitter.com/raynanoire

www.raynanoire.weebly.com

Starcrossed author Carla Caruso, www.carlacaruso.com.au
 
Tell us about yourself: I’m an Aussie romantic comedy author (and sometimes write books with a dash of ‘cosy mystery’). I’m also a jogger, fashion and R&B lover, horoscope junkie, mum of two-year-old twin boys, sometimes journalist, wife, and a cat person. Creativity is what I live for!

What was your first book? My debut novel was Cityglitter (Penguin). I wrote it as a sort of ‘girly’ answer to Twilight when that book happened to be all the rage. Cityglitter is about a gorgeous half-fairy living a glamorous life in the big city, who does the one thing she swore she’d never do: fall in love with a human. Find out more here: https://www.penguin.com.au/products/9781742536552/cityglitter-destiny-romance ;)

Describe your first break. My luck has only ever been through the slush pile! Penguin in Australia has a thing called the ‘Monthly Catch’, where aspiring writers sans agents can try their luck emailing in a manuscript on a particular day. I nearly fell off my chair when an editor emailed me, saying they were interested in my story but wondered if I could ‘up’ the romance quotient and resubmit. I did, and the rest is history. This chick-lit author became a romance writer! (I had the same kind of success later with HarperCollins, too.)

What is your favorite genre to read? To write? My fave to read is still chick-lit, or women’s fiction. Books by writers like Sophie Kinsella, Maggie Alderson and Zoe Foster are my ‘comfort reads’. I know the writing style, I know roughly what I’m going to get plot-wise… it’s like pulling on a pair of comfy bed socks every time I dive into the pages. I love writing funny, cosy sorts of yarns, too, with a quirky cast of family and friends – and I often try to weave in some sort of mystery or secret that needs airing. My current novel, Starcrossed, is a bit darker and more somber than my usual fare, though, I should warn!

Are happy endings are must in your stories? Yes, I write romances, so – tick, tick – you can expect a happy ending. Even if it doesn’t pan out exactly as you thought!

What makes a protagonist interesting? Imperfections, flaws! Who wants to read about a cookie-cutter heroine who is perfect at everything she does, always lands on her feet, and has impossibly shiny hair (or such a hero, for that matter)? Not me! I want to read about ‘real’ characters, who don’t always do the right thing (even when they know they should).

What is the best thing about being a writer? Just being inspired by life 24/7 and being able to channel that into your writing! For example, I picked up a library book today and the previous borrower had left their receipt in it. It had the guy’s name and the other books they’d borrowed, and I just started having a little fantasy in my head, wondering what if a guy dropped the book on the way out of the library and a girl picked it up, found the receipt and fell in love with who she thought he was from his reading list. She works out the courage to ask him out on a date, prepping herself with all the topics she thinks he’ll be interested in, then finds out it actually wasn’t his library receipt, but the previous borrower’s… As you can see, you can just play around with your imagination like a big kid as a writer.
As well, I like to use writing as ‘therapy’ – when something bad/embarrassing happens to me, I turn it into a funny scene in a book and it instantly makes me feel better.

What is the worst thing? How long manuscripts take to write! I have so many ideas floating around in my head and not much patience, and yet I have to project months/years down the track for a book’s deadline. My background’s in journalism and I’m used to writing an article (or more) a day, then being onto another topic the day after. I also now juggle writing with being a stay-at-home mum to twin boys and can only write when they have a two-hour nap each day, so, yes, it’s a very slow process!

Pantser or plotter? I’m somewhere in between! I do a really loose outline of the book first. So it will be the main dot-points of what’s going to happen per chapter – like, seriously, a line per point! Then I kind of tinker with the characters and their conflicts, and just get going. Different scenes will come to me as I write, and am inspired by life.
Writing out a really detailed plot first would ‘kill’ it for me creatively. I like finding the magic along the way. But everyone’s approach is different and there’s nothing wrong with that! Oh, and I keep a mini notepad in my handbag, which I’m always scrawling notes in – from manuscript tweaks to future scene ideas. I’m always plotting in a way.

What do you see the direction of your future writing taking? What can we expect next? Give us a little taste. Actually, I’ve been blogging about my research for a recently-finished manuscript, with the working title, Tomato Season, at my site, The Un-Italian Wife (www.theunitalianwife.com).
Despite coming from a long line of ‘domestic goddesses’, I can't cook to save my life. So I've been writing a novel, inspired by my Italian ancestry and market gardening heritage, and learning to cook and be 'more Italian' along with the heroine in my novel. The main character, Nella Martini, has just inherited her late grandma’s market garden and wants to sell up ASAP and fulfill her dream of buying a city fashion boutique. But a handsome neighbor and other life challenges impede her plans…

Just for fun…

Cat or dog person? Cats! I have a Maine Coon cat from the animal shelter called Luca who’s a real dude J He just meowed for me to open the home office door spookily!

Favorite food? I’m a savory girl, so gosh, probably something like tuna mornay or ravioli. I’ve recently turned pescatarian (seafood-eating vego), so I probably would have said roast otherwise!!

Favorite book? Tossup between The Un-domestic Goddess by Sophie Kinsella and Enid Blyton’s The Magic Faraway Tree (to appease my inner child)

Favorite movie? I used to say Grease as a kid, but rom-coms like Sweet Home Alabama and Four Holidays do it for me, too – hard one to pick! Oh, and oldies but goodies like Big. I really can’t choose…

Favorite holiday destination? Monaco! Though I’m still yet to visit the US, which I’m dying to do. J

Would you rather be the princess or the villain? Why? Princess! Hello tiaras, balls, pretty frocks, no need to work, assistants … and handsome princes!

Who has more fun – orcs or hobbits? Oh dear, I don’t even know what an orc is! My hubby is a big fan of the Lord of the Rings, so he would probably laugh at me right now, but fantasy film plots tend to go over my head. I was brought up on rom-coms, TV sitcoms, and the odd documentary! J I’ll say ‘hobbits’ just because I’ve heard of them… sorry Ring fans

Starcrossed
by Carla Caruso
 BLURB:
 Fledgling romance author Simona Gemella is hoping the rugged wilderness of South Australia's Kangaroo Island will help reignite her creative spark after her husband walked out on her (calling her a workaholic and filing for divorce).
 
She's joined her best friend, Nessie, on a health and wellness retreat at a mysterious old manor on the island, run by an astrology guru.
 
Though Simona's sworn off men, she can't help being distracted by a darkly dangerous man with a scorpion tattoo - Denham Cobalt - who's also staying at the manor. Then strange things start to happen, including uncanny accidents and even a possible murder.
 
It all culminates at a masquerade party on the night of a total lunar eclipse. Will Simona survive - with her heart intact?
 Excerpt Two:
 Simona woke with a start, her heart pounding. A dream featuring dark-eyed strangers and clawing scorpions had been interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Real ones. Growing closer. Not far from her bed. She could have sworn it. Although, the pitch black revealed nothing.
 
The noise had seemed to come more from the right side of the room, behind the wardrobe. Almost inside the wall. Which was ridiculous. She turned her head, peering into the darkness. 3:08 glowed in fluorescent green digits on the alarm clock radio.
 
Grasping the covers under her chin, Simona lay still, waiting for more, her ears pricked. Three glow-in-the-dark star stickers shone down from the ceiling. She imagined a travelling mum sticking them there to soothe their child, remind them of home. Unfortunately Simona needed more than that to placate her.
 
Aside from the occasional breathy snort from Nessie, though, silence reigned. Her friend had finally hit the pillow after kicking on to play pool with some backpacker. She had called Simona a stick-in-the-mud earth sign for leaving the pub early. Nessie always had a knack for making her feel dull.
 
Simona strained her ears. Still nothing. Her writer’s imagination had obviously conjured up the footsteps. Pity, as she had found it hard to get to sleep in the first place. Phone in her possession again, she had been kept up, mulling over a three-star Goodreads review from a writers’ group pal. Yup, three measly stars. Friends were meant to give you five stars, or four at least to look realistic. It was an unofficial rule.
 
But her supposed mate, who had hidden behind a code name (undone by the profile pic of her pet dog), hadn’t been so generous. She had written: I fell in love with the rugged hero and the unique story. The only shame was that some of the more intriguing plotlines weren’t further explored, sacrificed for the romance aspect of the book …
 
Um, it was a romance novel, hence, the emphasis on that particular component. Really. Of course, any criticism only hurt because she feared it was true: she was her own worst critic.
 
Then, just as Simona was drifting off, Nessie had crashed home, flicking on the lamp so that she could put on her so-called ‘lucid dreaming’ sleep mask. Another bizarre Nessie-style item. This one, she reckoned, helped encourage creative thinking. Though what Nessie needed it for, Simona didn’t know. Dreaming up more crazy holiday ideas? If anyone required it, it was Simona with her severe case of writer’s block.
 
And now? Now she was imagining things that went bump in the night.
 
Why oh why had she been fooled into believing going on holiday with a friend would be fun? It never was. She would have had more luck with inspiration striking at home. Where the internet was never far from her fingertips, and her thoughts weren’t clouded by no-good men.
 
Willing sleep to come soon, Simona unearthed an arm from beneath the doona and stretched to tap the bedside table three times. For luck — in case she wasn’t crazy and someone really was lurking about. Touching wood was a vice of hers. Nessie would probably say it had something to do with her being an earth sign and needing to be close to Nature. Really it just meant she was a tad OCD. Besides, the footsteps she’d heard before probably were just in her head — a symbol of her fear of being walked out on again.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 AUTHOR Bio and Links:
 
Carla Caruso was born in Adelaide, Australia, and only 'escaped' for three years to work as a magazine journalist and stylist in Sydney. Previously, she was a gossip columnist and fashion editor at Adelaide's daily newspaper, The Advertiser. She has since freelanced for titles including Woman's Day and Shop Til You Drop.
 
These days, she plays mum to twin lads Alessio and Sebastian with hubby James. Visit www.carlacaruso.com.au.
 
https://twitter.com/carlacaruso79
https://www.facebook.com/carlacarusoauthor
http://www.carlacaruso.com.au/
http://www.theunitalianwife.com/
 
Buy Link:   http://www.amazon.com/Star-crossed-Carla-Caruso-ebook/dp/B00XTG48KU/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1438109170&sr=8-1&keywords=starcrossed+Carla+Caruso&pebp=1438109194844&perid=1ANFG1TJ42J9JQC2XG34

Chapter Three
 
Donna stood beside the detective’s car staring at the personnel milling around The Painted Lady Inn. Initially, she thought the name provocative since it could have several meanings. The exterior would sport varying hues of lavender, pink, and blue similar to the homes she saw when she visited Savannah.

An errant cold breeze tugged at the ends of her hair, blowing a lock across her face. The dropping temperature and gathering clouds heralded a weather change. Perfect, exactly what she needed to make her day complete. The way her luck was running, it would be a blizzard. Curious neighbors drifted back indoors due to a combination of falling temperature and no immediate scenes of blood and mayhem. Only a few gawkers remained. The non-athletic ball throwing father herded his prodigy into the house. Pajama pants worked for a casual looksee but didn’t make the long haul. An overly made-up blonde attired in a tight sweater, jeans, and stiletto heel boots kept Daniel from making his way to Donna’s side.

Her brother didn’t seem to be trying too hard to get away. His natural charm insisted he speak to everyone who talked to him, which made it difficult to go anywhere with him. The majority of the people eager to exchange a word were women. His wife, when she accompanied her husband, could stop female traffic with a single icy look. Maria’s initial meeting happened because of an inane question she’d posed. Not surprising, she questioned other women’s motives when they did the same. It was tough to keep the women away when her brother seldom wore his wedding band due to his job in construction. More than a few men lost a finger and even a life when a ring caught while using power tools. Maria accepted his explanation but didn’t like it. Donna suspected the truth had more to do with he liked attention, always had.

Taber promised to retrieve her purse and coffee. So far, nothing indicated a result of his search. A couple of police officers jogged from the impromptu gab session huddled on her front lawn and headed for cruisers. The whine of the siren indicated the possibility of a crime somewhere else. Yep, the party was over. A lone person attired in a parka with a trailing crocheted black muffler shuffled along the sidewalk with the help of a cane. Someone could possibly be out for an early morning walk. People do that even when a murder doesn’t happen in the immediate vicinity. Whoever it was dressed more appropriately than the woman talking to Daniel. She kept dancing on one foot and then the other until her brother predictably offered his jacket. A sigh escaped her lips as she shook her head. Yeah, her brother meant well, but sometimes he just didn’t get it.

Like a good sister and even better sister-in-law, she’d have to intervene before the woman invited him in for coffee and a pastry on the side.

“Looks like Delilah has located another good looking sap.”

Her indignation over an insulting summation of her brother’s behavior, even though she’d mentally already done the same, heated her blood. She threw the newcomer a downward glance. The man marched right up to her, without bothering to pretend he wasn’t on an information-gathering mission. She had to admire such forthright behavior.

“That’s my brother you’re talking about.” Her declaration didn’t have the desired effect on the man. No excuses, apologies, or general bluster. Instead, it had no effect. He kept talking.

“Best save him now before she pulls him into the house and throws him out a few days later, just a shell of a man after she’s done with him.” His rusty laugh sounded more like a cough than amusement. Only his twinkling eyes announced he found some humor in his statement.

His words created an image of a pale Daniel with sunken eyes and beard stubble staggering out of one of the surrounding houses. His shirt would be misbuttoned and untucked. An angry Maria would be at the end of the walk casting daggers with her eyes not at Daniel, or the floozy that lured him into her home, but at Donna. As the oldest, the responsible one, her parents informed her early on that it was her job to look out for her younger brother.

“No worries, he’s married.” She hoped her words would reassure her as much as the man.

His eyebrows lifted high, disappearing behind a thick wedge of white hair peeking out beneath the rim of his fur-lined parka hood. “She’s lured more than one married man inside her house. I’m not even sure she’s above using a stun gun to immobilize them when her surface attractions don’t do the trick.”

Would the man ever shut his yap? His constant commentary annoyed her, especially when she wondered if there might be a grain of truth in any of it. The idea of her brother wandering wasn’t one she wanted to examine. It took forever for him to marry after having a buffet of potential mates thrust upon him. Her mother gave up on Donna early, but with Daniel, she had hopes for grandchildren.

She just wanted the man to leave her alone, but then an idea occurred. The man knew the neighborhood and its occupants and had time to spy on them. If he could detail the goings-on, he might be able to give her some history of the house and even better, the dead man.

She thrust out her right hand in the man’s direction. “Donna Tollhouse, your new neighbor.” He took her hand in his glove-clad one and gave it a surprisingly firm shake.

“Herman Fremont. I see you overcame your desire to throw me off your property. Was it my sparkling repartee that did it?” His eyes danced above his drooping mustache.

“Ah, thought it would be good to get to know my neighbors.”

His snort and crossed arms demonstrated his disbelief. “Okay, Donna. You strike me as a woman of sense and determination, which should make you stick out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood. Nothing but frivolous females more concerned about looking good than contributing anything while on the right side of the ground. Oh, and there is one bitter, old biddy who’ll sue the pants off anyone who crosses her.”

“So I heard.” She recognized Taber’s voice as he talked to the few remaining officers standing nearby. He’d be here any minute, ending her conversation with Herman and any chance of getting needed information. “I’d like to know more about the neighborhood and its history.”

“Uh-huh.” He cut her a sly glance before continuing, gesturing to his head. “You saw all the snow on the roof and decided this old geezer probably knows a thing or two.”

Donna stretched her lips into what she hoped was a smile. Normally, she didn’t do it all that much. The fact that it felt strange and awkward meant it resembled the desired expression. “Oh no, I noticed you were a keen student of human behavior.”

“Knock off that fake smile. Looks more like you’re constipated and trying to pretend you aren’t.” He thumbed in the direction behind him. “Live over that way.” A perfect location if he had any need to spy on her house.

Her smile faded. Did he think she acted as if she found him attractive? No, never. She just wanted to stroll through his collective memories.

“Better. I like an honest female. None of this fluttering eyelashes or phony expressions. What is it you want to know?” He shoved his gloved hands into his pockets, shuffled his feet, and hunched his shoulders.

Taber would arrive in seconds. So much, she wanted to ask, but one question would have to do. “Do you know who owned the house?”

His eyes rolled upward as he worked his jaw from side to side, popping it once. “Hard to say, lots of people owned it, passed through hands several times. A few folks were attracted to the legend. A couple, like you, had hopes of making it into a B and B.”

How did he know what her plans were? She’d told the realtor who initially walked her through, who must have mentioned it to some else. The gossip train must make a regular stop at Herman Fremont’s place. Legend, interesting.

​“What legend?” Her imagination raced ahead creating romantic triangles, suicides, and consequential haunting, and even disappearing residents. Such things could either hurt or help her business. It’d be best she knew the story, too.

You show quite an attachment to the badge. So why did you end up in Italy behind a desk? Have you been pushed to quit the MET Police?

>Let’s put it that way: it was a mutual decision from both sides, mine and Scotland Yard’s. Sometimes it’s better to end a marriage before it turns to a nightmare. I couldn’t fit the position anymore and Scotland Yard wasn’t happy about me either.
 
I know another version of this story, though, about you being kicked out and your father covering a hot case you screwed badly.

>Gossip. People like creating fuzz about silly matters.
 
Mmmm. I see. I feel you’re not comfortable about that topic so let’s skip to another one. You mentioned the ladies of your family being worried about their men’s safety. What about your woman, if there’s any?

>I used to have a girlfriend in London but we broke up. Not a happy story at all as she cheated on me - I have nothing to be ashamed of and I’m totally cool with that right now.
 
Sorry to hear that. This means you’re available on the market for the Italian ladies outside?

>If they dare to, yes. Normally Italian girls are quite attracted by foreigners at first but then lose interest because we’re different than Italian men [he sighs]
 
Speaking about Italy, why did you choose the little-known Tursenia instead of bigger, more popular cities?

When I decided to move out London, Italy was my first choice. I could speak a little bit of Italian (which was definitely better than the French I learnt at school) and my best friend lives in Italy, in Tursenia precisely. Since he was also the only person I used to know in Italy at that time, the choice was pretty much mandatory to me.
 
Your best friend is Tursenia’s Police Inspector Angelo Alunni. How did you meet?

>Our fathers met back in the Sixties during some kind of training/cooperations between Scotland Yard and Italian Police forces. They got along very well and kept the relationship after the training. I used to go to Angelo’s pretty much every summer and he used to come to London pretty often as well. He’s basically family to me.
 
What’s your favourite thing about Italy and the one you don’t like at all?

>It’s difficult to say. You know, sometimes what I like the most can be also the worst one. Take the food, or the culture, for instance: they’re really different than mine and I can equally love and hate them in pieces. I’m not a keen blogger, but this is precisely the topic of my most popular post. If I have to pick one good thing and one bad thing overall, I’d say the landscapes as a good thing and the Tursenians driving skills as the most disgraceful one.
 
I reckon your lifestyle has sensibly changed since you moved to Italy. What aspect has changed the most and why?

>I’d like to say the detective side but Angelo always drags me in his most complicated murder cases, so mysteries and investigations are still part of my life. I’m always the same restless guy I used to be in London. In Italy, though, I found real friends. My lifestyle has improved on the human side: living in a smaller city than London allows me to nurture stronger social relationships. People come and go less often, in my neighbourhood there are fellas who have been lived there for more than forty years - that’s unbelievable to me.
 
In conclusion, can you tell us anything about your close future? Would you be willing to join the Italian Police Force one fine day?

>Oh, no way! Even if I get the Italian citizenship, I will never join any Police Force ever again. I’m going to stay the way I am now - a former cop who snoops around every now and then. If Angelo asks me for some support or backup I’m pretty much in to help him out, but I won’t be a full time cop or a private detective anymore. I’m done with that. 
 ​
Find out more about Chase & Author Stefania Mattana

Cutting Right To The Chase Vol.1 :http://bit.ly/1ns1my3

Chase Williams's life seems to be filled with crimes and mysteries to solve, even if he is not working at Scotland Yard anymore. In Tursenia, a pretty, Medieval city in the heart of Italy, Chase tries to live a normal life as an import/export executive for an international cashmere firm, but it's not as easy as it appears. 

Chase's investigative eye never stops catching glimpses of crimes despite his career change. Throughout these six detective short stories of 1000 words each, Chase deals with a sequence of mainly minor but baffling offences that anyone could stumble upon. 

Strange flights, teenagers at the mall, quirky neighbours and a special mission with Chase's childhood friend, Inspector Angelo Alunni, will introduce you to the Tursenian world, where other, nastier crimes can happen. 
​

Cutting Right To The Chase Vol.3: http://bit.ly/1NLg0Mr

Volume 3 of the Chase Williams flash fiction series delivers yet another brilliant batch of ten short mystery stories of 1,000 words each. Ten fast-paced detective stories, ten dark portraits of seemingly serene Tursenia. Central Italy is not all medieval towns, stunning art and lovely food: mysteries swirl and crimes lurk in the labyrinth of alleys in the historic city centre not so far from the tourist routes. 
Chase investigates offences perpetrated by normal people whom you would never imagine could hide a dark criminal mind, hence making them all the harder to nail. 

Chase flanks Inspector Angelo Alunni again whilst solving bloody murder mysteries and cold cases, as well as extraordinarily topical daily dramas. This is a superb collection of short stories to read either one at a time when you can snatch a few minutes, or altogether when you have more time. 

Into The Killer Sphere: http://bit.ly/1i02sRe

Chase Williams is looking forward to a solitary week off, away from the office, when he is dragged into a strange murder mystery by his friend, Inspector Angelo Alunni. 

Piero Galli has died as a result of a chandelier falling on him and breaking his neck. It looks like an accident, but Alunni is not convinced: so who killed Galli? 

Despite his plans for a vacation, Chase ends up in a detective story; he has to unravel the knots in a high ranking family of Tursenia, a Medieval city in the heart of Italy, where appearances always come first and foremost, especially if you are wealthy. 

As well as rough-necked youths, an interrupted wedding and a handful of noisy dogs, Chase has to cope with that Italian classic: meddling neighbours.  
This is a cozy mystery novella where attention to even the tiniest detail could make the difference between leaving a killer on the loose or bringing him or her to justice. 

Will Chase take down the assassin before there are more deaths? ​