Thursday, November 30, 2017

Girl (Pirate) Power by Holland Rae

Hello Roses and Readers. I goofed by not posting Holland's blog on the 25th. Oh, so sorry, Holland. Today is my regular day to blog, but I've opened it up for Holland. It's all about pirates, one of my favorite topics, so please enjoy!

I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of female pirates. When looking for tales of powerful women throughout history, there is a surprising amount of inspiration to be found among the legends of Anne Bonny, Grace O’Malley, Mary Read and Ching Shih. Where so many other trades, institutions and dynasties are distinctly lacking in female presence, these powerful women ruled the sea and the world. Navies kowtowed to them as swiftly as their enemies and history remembered their names.
            Of course, these women were cutthroat, make no mistake of that. They killed and destroyed and stole and pillaged, just like any good pirate should. This is not to make light of the violence that pirates and seafaring vagabonds created in the Golden Age of Piracy. They were dangerous.
            But, to a young woman, a young girl, even, who got the watered down version of the world’s greatest friendship between Anne Bonny and Mary Read, who understood, in a visceral way, that these women were ahead of their time, female pirates are important. Because three hundred years after the Golden Age ended, we are still facing an unequal world. Women may no longer be traded for dowry of sheep in the Western world, but we face violence and discrimination every single day. Just look at the last five days of news, if you need any proof.
            And in a world that was worse for women, these dangerous, wild, angry women, they bucked the system. To twist a modern turn of phrase, make ‘em walk the plank, if they can’t take a joke. They abandoned their statuses, refused marriage and inspired the young feminist in me to say that if you don’t like the way that society is treating you, make your own damn rules.
            Such was my inspiration for Catalina Sol, the pirate-esque heroine of my recent release, Heart and Dagger. While not as extreme as the like of Ching and Grace – she is skilled with a sword and knows when not to use it, Catalina has fled life in England, an undoubtedly abusive marriage, and the rules of society that demand she behave as a proper lady. Instead, she creates her own rules, and in doing so opens up respite for women, children and even men that society has forgotten.
            I’ve always wanted to be a pirate queen. The lore and myth surrounding life at sea is vast and full of imagination, and the very idea of somehow mastering the great monster of ocean – or coming to an unlikely peace with it – is appealing. As is the aesthetic of britches, boots and undone silk shirts. But, of course, the reality is that being a pirate or a woman of the era would have been much more than simply difficult. Being both puts you in the history books. (Not to speak of the stench aboard a pirate ship.)
            So no, I’m unlikely to commandeer a ship, pick up a crew in Tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer my weasley black guts out.
But I can be a pirate queen of today. Catalina helped those who had no place to go in a time when women had no recourse, no opportunities. At the risk of sounding maudlin, there are many days when it feels as though our rights and liberties and opportunities are taken from us. So forget the swords, forget the ships, forget the fancy white shirts with the fluffy bits on the cuffs. I’ll make my stand for women all over the world today. I’ll be a pirate queen when I fight for Planned Parenthood, equal pay for equal work and respect for stay at home mothers. I’ll be a pirate queen when we march in the streets, demanding rights to our own bodies, demanding opportunities in the STEM sector, demanding that we get taken seriously.
Times have changed. It does not take four months to sail the ocean blue on new adventures. You cannot lose yourself in the wilds of America and leave your life behind. No, women are not still sold to the highest bidder, at least, not where I am from.
But our fight isn’t over, not by a long shot. And with a crew full of pirate sisters and brothers on my side, I look forward to entering the fray.

Heart and Dagger,
The Ships in the Night Series (Book 1)
Historical Romance
Holland Rae 


Lady Charlotte Talbot hasn’t seen Armand Rajaram de Bourbon, her oldest childhood friend and once betrothed, since his family returned to India when she was fifteen. Since then, she has left a groom at the altar, changed her name to Catalina Sol, opened a house for unwed mothers and orphans, and captained a ship, the Liberté, crewed by the best fighters in the Spanish Main. She’s no longer the lady he left behind, not that she’d admit to wishing he’d return.

When Armand’s brother is kidnapped, he breaks his rule of never engaging with pirates. But desperation drives him to the Liberté and a life he thought he’d left far behind. He’d do anything to save Henri, but Armand never expected to find Charlotte here, and now that’s he’s found her, he doesn’t have a clue what to do about it.

Together, they must face kidnapping, pirate captains, blackmail, and themselves. The Liberté may sail thousands of miles from the shores of England, but that might not be far enough to escape the past.

Buy Links  

Author Bio:

Holland Rae is the author of several works of erotic and romantic fiction in both the contemporary and historical genres, and enjoys pushing the limits of freedom, feminism, and fun in her stories.  She has been an avid writer for many years, and recently moved back to her home state of New Jersey from Boston, after completing her education in journalism and creative writing.

In her free time, she loves to travel, and spent a semester abroad living in a 14th century castle in the Netherlands. When not exploring the world, she likes dreaming up stories, eating spicy food, driving fast cars, and talking to strangers. 

Find her on:


“Like you, Armand?” she asked him. Her voice had reached an even tone, with no emotion evident, and that was far more terrifying than her angered yelling. Like him. He could have been her husband these years now, had he ever written back, had he not turned himself away from everything London and Paris were to him. He had been a coward and fool.

And yet, the knowledge did not serve to calm his temper in the slightest. Instead, he nearly ground his teeth to dust, as she continued her even speech.

“I have never needed a man to care for me,” she said, her gaze so full of disdain, Armand felt himself growing smaller in the wake of it. “I have never needed anyone to care for me.” This time, when she spoke, there was no denying the sadness that filtered through her words, or the expression in her eyes, and Armand felt his own grief in it, felt his own sadness as it mirrored hers.

“Why are you trying to change me?” she asked him. He knew he needed to back down, knew that if he spoke right at this moment, as this woman stood before him in her britches, then he would regret it forever. He knew all these things, and yet the anger seemed to consume him, anger, fear, sadness.

“It’s about time someone tried.”

He watched her finish dressing and leave without another word, but there was no denying the pain he saw in those beautiful eyes, and he felt all the hurt he had caused her as acutely as if someone had dug a knife into his very own body. Of course he didn’t want to change her, not the glorious laughter that exposed her long stretch of beautiful neck, not the way she treated the world’s misfits, offering them love and joy, so much more than just clothing and food. There was not a single thing in the world he would change about Catalina Sol.

He stopped short, eyes still wide upon the doorway through which she had only just left. If he didn’t want to change her, then why had he said so? Why had he said the one thing he knew would hurt her more than all the rest?

Because she had done the same.

She hadn’t even said no, hadn’t even rejected him in a way that stood to break him, but as Armand stood in Catalina’s chamber all alone, he realized he hadn’t proposed out of honor. He hadn’t suddenly developed the sense of responsibility that had forsaken him all those years ago.

He had proposed because he wanted to marry her. The thought was like a knife turning in his belly, and it sent a shard of new pain through his temple.

He had wanted to marry her.

As she had lain in the morning sunshine, her hair spread around her, that delicious glow upon her skin, Armand had believed it his duty to marry Catalina, but it hadn’t been his duty. It hadn’t been his responsibility. It had been his desire.

And then she had laughed, had laughed and thrown his betrayal of their once future in his face, and Armand hadn’t understood why he had been so angry. But he understood now, he knew exactly what had driven him to say the words he knew would bring her to her knees. Because she had brought him to his knees and Armand Rajaram de Bourbon, earl, comte, somewhere in line for an Indian princehood, didn’t like the sensation one bit.

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

The Holiday Table by Mackenzie Crowne

© Adobe Stock

For a girl who grew up in a large Irish clan full of loving loudmouths, Thanksgiving Day kicks off a time of family, food, fellowship, and…football, of course. 'Tis the season of goodwill and, for our family, the holiday table has always been ground zero for experiencing the joy of the season. Each year, beginning in mid November, the table expanders were pulled from the closet to accommodate the extra bodies that inevitably joined our gatherings. Stampedes into the living room to secure the best seat for the game followed the hours of overeating, conversation and laughter.

Come to think of it, that describes my memories of pretty much any given fall or winter Sunday when I was a girl.

With eight kids, our table was large even before the expanders were inserted. On normal days, that scared stretch of wood sat ten and there was rarely an open seat. One side didn’t actually have chairs. Instead, there was an oversized, hard wooden bench that stretched the full length of the table. Thank God we were a skinny bunch, since most of the time, those relegated to the bench shared it with four other bottoms.

The fact is, the only thing that distinguished Thanksgiving and Christmas from just about every other weekend at our table was the expanded menu. Christmas meant roast beef, one of Dad’s specialties and a personal favorite of mine, while Mom oversaw Thanksgiving and the dry bird. She made a mean cherry pie but, unfortunately, like me, she wasn’t much of a cook. (Hence the skinny butts)

Many years have passed since our clan gathered around that scarred table, but the raucous and wonderful memories we made there never fade—like the yearly battle over the wishbone, or the year dad choked out a laugh at something my brother said, and spittled dessert over all of us. We have our own tables now in Boston, Orlando, Tampa, Dallas, Denver, and Phoenix. Mom, Dad, and a beloved brother share a table in Heaven these days, and thousands of miles separate the rest of us, but the love and laughter we found at that table draw us back together often.

So, as we enter this joyous season and you and yours gather around your own holiday tables, here is my wish for you. May your Turkey be juicy, your favorite team victorious, and your bottom skinny.

When Mac isn’t gathering for the holidays with family and friends, she spends her time weaving HEAs for her characters, like Gabe and Jane, the hero and heroine of A CASE FOR CALAMITY, a Christmas novella via

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Everything Told Is New Again by Jacqueline Diamond

Roses and Readers, please welcome Jacqueline Diamond as our guest blogger. In addition to a fun post to read, Jacqueline is giving away five ebook copies of her zany romantic comedy Designer Genes, in your choice of formats. Just email her at and put Contest Entry in the subject line. If you’ve read Designer Genes & want a different one of her books, please specify the title in your email. And if you’d like to be added to her mailing list, please mention that. It is not required and won’t affect your chances of winning.

Now for the post!

Those of us who’ve been writing books for many years face a challenge that, historically, authors never had to consider. When our publishers return the rights to us, what do we do with them? 

A word of explanation: as a rule, authors don’t sell manuscripts to publishers; we lease them. Depending on the contract terms, at some point, we can reclaim the books. 

In the past, most novels simply went out of print. Ever visit a dusty old used bookstore? That was the only place to find them. 

The new field of digital publishing (ebooks) gives us an exciting option. Which brings me to my point. 

While I’d love to have a magic wand, my older books (and I’ve had rights reverted for about 50 so far) don’t simply transform themselves into ebooks. They need new covers, new blurbs, updated material such as introductions, and so on. 

This takes a lot of time that I’d rather spend writing. On the plus side, I get to fix mistakes that sneaked past (or in a few cases were introduced by) an editor. I can also revise out-of-date references that might annoy readers. Remember the Soviet Union? Pay phones? Getting film developed? 

What else do authors do with our new-old books? I’m a better writer than I was thirty years ago, so I appreciate the chance to polish creaky prose. It’s also been fun designing my own covers (except for my Regencies, which were created by There’s been a steep learning curve, but thanks to Photoshop and stock photo sites that sell images, I’ve created bright up-to-date covers. I hope you’ll check these out on my website, 

On rereading my earliest books, I became concerned that some fell short of my current standards. Either the premise was too dated or the characters weren’t strong enough. I’d hate for a first-time reader to pick up one of those moldies and assume that’s what all my books are like. Regaining the rights has allowed me to retire half a dozen tales that couldn’t be whipped into shape. 

What’s the best part of reissuing old gold? I love reaching new readers who missed those novels the first time around. I also enjoy hearing from longtime fans who delight in re-discovering a story. 

At times, I’m rediscovering them myself. Some of the zanier tales make me laugh out loud, because I’d forgotten the humorous twists. These include romantic comedies like The Bride Wore Gym Shoes, Kidnapped? and Designer Genes. I hope you’ll enjoy the excerpt! 

Title: Designer Genes

Blurb: There was a shocking mix-up at the sperm bank. Now blonde L.A. sophisticate Buffy Arden arrives in Nowhere Junction, Texas, to introduce her cute little girl to the infant’s unprepared father, auto mechanic Carter Murchison. As for Carter, he’s not sure how to deal with this smart-mouthed lady who happens to have the same name as his cat and who quickly turns his life upside-down. “A comical tale with witty dialogue, humorous scenes and fun characters.”—Romantic Times. 


       Buffy decided to take a sharper tone. “What is your problem?” she demanded of the car. “You’re being unreasonable.” How unfair that it should die now, after making it through the Snoring Desert, which was kind of like an endless beach with neither an ocean nor good-looking surfers.

It wasn’t actually named Snoring, although it deserved to be; it was the Sonoran, whatever that meant. Thank goodness for GPS, since geography had never been Buffy’s strong point. Having grown up in Los Angeles, she viewed the United States as consisting of three major coastlines dominated by L.A., New York and New Orleans. Anything in between had a squishy name that started with a vowel, such as Omaha, Ohio or Utah. 

Buy links:


Jacqueline Diamond, who received a Career Achievement Award from Romantic Times, has sold more than a hundred novels. She is best known for romantic comedies and her Safe Harbor Medical romance series. A former Associated Press reporter, she currently writes the spin-off Safe Harbor Medical mystery series.

Monday, November 27, 2017

A Time for Family and Friends by Betsy Ashton

We've officially arrived at THE HOLIDAYS. Be you Hindu or Buddhist, Christian or Jew, Muslim or agnostic, nearly everyone gets together over THE HOLIDAYS with family and friends, share a meal or a drink, exchange presents, enjoy the season.

Alas, for too many, the season is fraught with arguments over politics. I heard from so many friends that their families didn't check their politics at the door, thus leading to loud arguments and one actual fist fight. I frankly am burned out on politics and can't wait to wave goodbye to 2017.

Another alas comes in when stress mounts and people allow themselves to be overwhelmed. I used to be one of them. I was a Martha Stewart wannabe. I decorated my home to the nth degree, wrapped more presents than anyone needed, baked and cooked more food than we needed, all to collapse the day after Christmas into a puddle of cleaning, self-pity, and exhaustion. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't turn my home and family into the Brady Bunch decorated by the indomitable Martha.

My family wanted a quiet day, a gift or two, a decent meal, and people who weren't stressed. They finally got it.

I turned in my Martha card and took out membership in the Martha Stewart Never-Be club. I set aside three days to decorate my house. What's not in place at the end of those three days goes back in the garage, Maybe next year. Maybe not. I like the way the house looks and smells. I like to cook, but I don't overload the table. Usually, holiday meals are my husband and me, and maybe a couple of friends. Gone are the days of 25 people sitting down to eat in my house.

How did I manage this? Well, it was easy: My husband and I moved 500 miles away from most of the family. We make the drive to New York for an annual "Between the Holidays" luncheon at a restaurant equally convenient for the locals up there. Terry and I host. We enjoy good conversation, good food, and no clean up afterwards.

The grands are part of this "Between" party. We deliver gifts and enjoy watching them open just ours. If we were there on Christmas Day, we'd have about five minutes before they would be carted off to other family members. We're selfish. We like a day alone without competition.

When we get back from New York, we are home for at least eight weeks. No travel, no appointments, no nothing but what my husband and I want to do.

I hope you all enjoy your holidays in your own way. If you like political arguments, this is one year when there is plenty of opinions to go around. If you like peace and quiet, may you find it.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year. See you in 2018.

Sunday, November 26, 2017

NaNo Wrap-up

I had a successful NaNo, I think. I made a good start at getting some business stuff done and I've mapped out what I want to do for next year. Of course, I actually have to do it, but at least it's down in writing about "work on this in 2018".

I also started a new book. My goal, perhaps foolish, is to finish it by Dec. 31. I think that's doable, but we'll see. It's one of my Remembered Classics and I have the basics all blocked out -- characters, location, and a few key scenes and high/low points. I just need to sit down and write it.

I had some distractions: emergency surgery for the Spousal Unit. He came through with flying colors, but that was still a drain of time and energy. Then I had an emergency up come (vision problem that had me pretty freaked out for a time). That appears to be under control now, so I should be able to focus on the writing.

This is my last post for the year (I don't participate in the story party in December). So here's wishing you a happy holiday season, a happy new year, and here's to 2018 --full steam ahead!

J L Wilson

Friday, November 24, 2017

Those Good Distractions by Brenda Whiteside

We writers often speak of distractions that keep us from writing. I like to think I can write through most anything. I'm not saying how good my prose is when I'm in the throes of life's complications, but I shoulder on. MOST of the time. These last few weeks, not even yours truly could get a word down on paper.
A game of Jenga on Thanksgiving

If left alone, regardless of what ails me or is disrupting my mental calm, I write. What I like to call physical distractions are another story. Our RV is only a year old and we've had problems from day one. We're supposed to be at the RV ranch mixing it up with our winter visitor friends, but the RV had some issues and we had to take it to Prescott which is two and a half hours away. It turned into a week of frustration. While in Prescott we stay with Mom, sister, and brother-in-law. They are what I mean by physical distractions. Although my mom is my biggest fan and can't wait until my next book comes out, she doesn't quite get it that it won't happen unless I have time to write. to love them.

We barely got the RV parked and we were off to our son's home for Thanksgiving. It's a short,
She cooked it all plus pies!
wonderful holiday and I wouldn't even want to write. We've had a great time, and I'm particularly thankful I have a daughter-in-law who likes to cook because mom-in-law doesn't. She did every little thing for our feast. I was tasked with playing with my granddaughter. Oh what a job. LOL

We'll head back to the RV ranch today, but it will be at least two days before any writing gets done. There's tons to unpack and set up. AND I'll miss all my wonderful distractions called family!

Looking for a good book to read between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Or maybe a Christmas present? Books are the best kind of present. Look here:
Brenda's Amazon Author Page

Thursday, November 23, 2017

Being Thankful On Thanksgiving by Margo Hoornstra

Happy Thanksgiving!

As I celebrate this day with family and friends, I find I really do have a lot to be thankful for. Such as:

  1. A strong, healthy, loving and tremendously supportive immediate family. Led by my husband Ron, the list includes my four children and in-law children, as well as four precious grandchildren.
  2. An equally strong, healthy, loving and supportive extended family. My brother, brothers-in-law, sisters-in-law (who read and praise my work!), nieces, nephews and cousins. None better in this world.
  3. Many friends, both writing related and otherwise. Those I have met face to face, and those I only know through our on-line connections. All are similarly treasured.
  4. The ability to walk. A few years ago, I 'blew a knee' I couldn't put any weight on for a few weeks. Being pushed in a wheelchair when I wanted to be out and about, was an eye opening experience. I give thanks every day my injury was only temporary.
  5. The appearance when I need it/them the most of my muse, inspiration, ideas, scenarios. Whatever you call the phenomenon that allows me to transfer the ramblings in my head into cohesive, and hopefully entertaining, words, sentences, chapters and books.
  6. Popcorn. Be it caramel coated, kettle, cheese or plain. The best snack ever. Especially at the movie theater.
  7. Living in a country where we are free to do and be what we want, within reason of course, and those who sacrifice to keep us and them free.
  8. Having signed four, count them 4 contracts for Brothers In Blue books (two written and two yet to be) and released in 2017, 2018, 2019 and 2020.
  9. Getting appropriate medical tests, one of which detected an early cancer that was quickly taken care of. And having excellent professional care available for whatever the future brings.
  10. Being part of this wonderful blog known as The Roses of Prose which allows me to share and express myself knowing my colleagues have my back no matter what.
So how about you? I know you've been asked this before, but humor me. What are some of the things you are thankful to have in your life? List as many as you care to, then share them here or not. No pressure. Just enjoy your day.

My days to blog here are the 11th and 23rd. For more about me and the stories I write, please visit my WEBSITE


Wednesday, November 22, 2017

A Writer’s Thanks! By Leah St. James

It’s the day before the U.S. Thanksgiving, and if you’re as busy as I am, you won’t have much time for reading blogs, so I’ll keep this short.

When I contemplate my author life, here are a few biggies I am grateful for:
•    My hubby who encouraged me to write after I speed-read every romance novel in our local library;
•    Virginia Romance Writers for that unpublished author contest that gave me hope that I might have something;
•    Virginia Romance Writers for encouraging me to submit my crazy story to The Wild Rose Press; and
•   TWRP editor who took a chance on that  crazy story (and she knows who she is!). :-)

But beyond those, I'm grateful for readers who pick up our stories and give them a chance, especially when you consider the millions of books currently on the market (100 pages of Romantic Suspense alone on Amazon!).

Special thanks to all who write reviews, even the woman who trashed my "Christmas Dance" with a 2-star review and called my characters selfish. She was right, by the way, but that was kind of the point of the story! She said a whole lot more that I have (in selfish, self-preservation mode) blocked from my memory, but the point is that she cared enough about the story to stop and post her thoughts. And thankfully there were other reviewers who reacted a bit less negatively to the story. :-)
And then there are the readers who don’t like posting reviews but who tell their friends and co-workers about a great book they just read. If that’s you – thank you! Word of mouth is the author’s best friend.

So a big THANK YOU today to those who read. You keep us going.

Wishing all my fellow Roses, all my fellow authors, and all my fellow readers a joyous and blessed Thanksgiving. 


Leah writes stories of mystery and romance, good and evil and the power of love. Learn more at, and stop by and visit on Facebook. She loves talking to other readers and authors!

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

No Noel this year by Barbara Edwards

The Christmas stories written on The Roses of Prose add so much joy to the holiday. I love what my friends share and am sorry I'm not joining in the fun this year. I'm working on two manuscripts and just couldn't fit  it in. I do want to remind everyone of my Christmas stories from The Wild Rose Press. I hope you all find the time to read them and they brighten your season.

Journey of the Magi 
by Barbara Edwards 
Blurb: Widow Noel Martin never breaks promises, and she promised her kids they'd have Christmas at her childhood home in Connecticut. But driving across country takes money. Noel is broke when a snowstorm blows them into a tiny Minnesota cafe owned by a man who can change her mind. She accepts his offer of a job. Despite her attraction to him, she makes it clear she is only temporary help.
Dan Longstreet isn't adopting any more strays, but he needs a waitress. Dan works so hard to make his cafe a success, he doesn't have time for love. Though Noel's slender blonde beauty stuns him and her two adorable children tug at his heart, he denies how they threaten to change his life.
When tragedy strikes, their new-found love is the first victim. Noel can't stay and Dan can't leave. Will their journey be the gift that reunites them?

Excerpt: An Arctic blast from the opening door fluttered napkins on the deserted tables in the darkened café, extinguished the two remaining candles, and ruffled the sawdust spread on the floor to absorb the melting snow. Dan casually checked the baseball bat hooked under the counter. Only trouble arrived this late. 
His gaze latched onto the petite female and he swore he smelled spring flowers. And sunshine. He couldn’t take his gaze off her as she undid the knitted green muffler wrapped three times around her coat’s up- turned collar to reveal a thin pinched face. 
His chest ached with the urge to cradle her in his arms; she looked so cold. Even with her knit hat pulled down over her ears, her high cheekbones and the up- tilted tip of her nose flamed as bright red as a cheap statue of a Christmas elf. She blinked in the bright light. 

Praise for Journey of the Magi 
“With a deft touch of her brush, word artist Barbara Edwards paints an endearing story that showcases the true meanings of Christmas—love, sacrifice and the wide-eyed hopes of children. Her attention to detail, her ingenious stroke of the brush breathe life and love into this delightful story.” 
~Vonnie Davis, award winning romance author 
Praise for Barbara Edwards 
“Barbara Edwards writes with passion and conviction.” 
~Maggie Toussaint, mystery and romance author 
“Barbara Edwards writes engaging and fun stories.” 
~multi-published author Stephanie Burkhart 

Late for the Wedding (Twelve Brides of Christmas Book 2) 
by Barbara Edwards 

Heather Green will do anything to make her twin’s wedding perfect. Despite an impending nor’easter, she sets out with the wedding dress, cake, favors and cake topper in her car. As the snow piles up, her car is wrecked and she barely misses injury in a major accident.
Nicholas Burnes would rather be ensconced with his latest cuddle than drive a tow truck, but his brother needs his help. He reluctantly agrees to help Heather find a way to the wedding locale, but when the storm closes the roads, he ends up offering her shelter in his penthouse.
Warm and rested at last, Nick and Heather explore their powerful attraction to each other, only to part when he delivers her, on time, to her sister’s wedding. But weddings breed weddings…

Buy Link:

Dixie’s Gift
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-

Author: Barbara Edwards

Blurb: Ellen Carter deeply grieves for her husband Dan, but at least she still has Dixie, her beloved Malinois. However, soon Dixie leaves her too. But the faithful dog cannot rest easy in heaven while her mistress is unhappy. Dixie pleads with the Archangel Michael to let her send help, and intercedes for Ellen in the only way she can. But will Ellen get the message, and more importantly, will she accept Dixie's gift?
Sexy newcomer Michael Burke can barely take enough time from his successful restaurant for a decent night's sleep, let alone romance. Still, he is intrigued by the beautiful widow and can't resist entering her shop. Sparks fly, and when Ellen has an accident in a snowstorm, he comes to her rescue. Trapped by a blizzard and aided by Dixie's Gift, Ellen and Michael find more than shelter--they find love.

He brushed a wisp of her hair from her cheek. It clung like spider silk to his fingers.
He rubbed the strand and his heart raced. When her lips parted, he bent forward to taste their soft curve.
Sweet, so sweet, he thought as her mouth melded with his. His hands slowly slid from her slender shoulders to her waist. Soft as a feather, she sighed. Her curves fit against his hard chest like matching puzzle pieces.
The lights blinked, dimmed, and then flared back on.

Dixie's Gift tugs at your heart, and though the snow threatens, you can't help but be warmed by this sweet story. A must read! -- Kara O'Neal, Author

"Dog lovers, do not read this book . . . without a box of tissues nearby. A touching story of love and compassion." - Diane Burton, author of the Outer Rim series.

"Delightful. . .Barbara Edwards weaves a heartwarming holiday tale of rediscovering love after the death of a spouse and the loss of a beloved pet. It's a refreshing story with a theme of joy and peace and filled with engaging characters. And who can resist a romantic winter setting with lots and lots of snow?" ~ Judy Ann Davis, Author and Educator

Dixie’s Gift by Barbara Edwards is a gift of a read. Sweet, romantic, poignant, and touching, it will bring a lump to your throat and satisfaction to your heart. If you don't shed a tear, you're a robot." ~ Award winning author Alicia Dean

Please follow, friend or like me. I love to hear from my readers.
Amazon Author’s Page

Monday, November 20, 2017

What Happens When a Vampire Finds He's Stuck On Diaper Duty????

December 11, 2017 is the release date for 

 This sweet and funny novella follows The Blautsaugers of Amber Heights series but can be read as a stand-alone. In it, you will learn the story of what happened to John Alden, Rafe Blautsauger's Enforcement Partner, and Dr. Michaela Blautsauger's lab assistant, Joann Clarkson. And you'll meet two-year-old Cody Clarkson who is as cute as he is stinky.

The vampire deserves combat pay. Not for recovering the single mom, but for babysitting her toddler. Steely vampire on one side and determined toddler on the other. Who will prevail?
Can the tough vampire be brought to his knees by a toddler?
Blurb: During the Civil War, Union soldier, John Alden took a musket ball to the gut. As he gasped his final breath, he was turned into a vampire and started life anew in Amber Heights, Missouri. For over one hundred and fifty years, he's lived a rather solitary life as a vampire Enforcer. Young single mother, Joann Clarkson, needs a job and fast. Hoping to be rehired, she returns to Dr. Michaela Blautsauger's lab prepared to eat a hefty helping of humble pie. She comes to regret that decision when she's taken hostage. Things look grim, but she'll never stop fighting to escape. Her son needs his mama. As an Enforcer, John must hunt down the vampire who kidnapped Joann. In his search, John winds up babysitting her toddler, Cody. Changing diapers might be worse than getting staked, but nothing compares to how he feels when both mother and child fall into danger again.

      “I brought you here for two reasons.” John turned to place a hand on her arm.
       “To keep us safe.” Joann remembered what he’d told her in the car.
       John nodded. “That was the main reason. I do want you and Cody secured until Sabriento is taken care of once and for all.” Suddenly looking tired, he ran a hand over his head. “After thinking about what he said to you, I suspect he’ll soon be back in Amber Heights and looking for you. So that’s the main thing. My other purpose is to give you the option of being mesmerized—” he gave her a lopsided half-smile—“once you’re out of danger. And since Justin has more skill at it than me, if you choose that option, I want him to do the adjustment.”
       “What does that mean?” Totally at a loss, Joann looked from one to the other vampire.
       John hesitated before answering, “It eradicates memory and will wipe the existence of vampires from your mind. You won’t remember being snatched or fed on. Consequently, you won’t suffer panic attacks or nightmares caused by the ordeal. Bad memories are replaced with something mundane. Like you got busy at work before finishing your shift and going home.”
       “It’s painless,” Justin said mildly. Although she frankly examined their expressions, Joann was unable to read either vampire’s  opinion on the matter.
       John stretched his legs out in front of him. “Better make that you’ll remember going home late,” he amended. “The same memory will be given to your nutty neighbor.”
       To never remember or have to think about Vincent Sabriento—to stop replaying the paralyzing horror of being bitten. She’d also forget she currently worked for a vampire. Dr. Blautsauger would go back to simply being a rather cold and exacting boss.
       It sounded like heaven. Then Joann caught sight of the sad little quirk lingering in the corner of John’s mouth. It sounded like hell. “Can…can I think about it?”

Check out what I'm working on now at:

Buy Links for R E Mullins' books:

Diaper Duty Vampire now available for preorder.