Monday, April 30, 2012

Hearts Crossing Ranch - Tanya Hanson

Welcome, Tanya!

Well, I've said before, there's no better hero than a cowboy! They just have it all: the proper manners, respect, an appreciation for God's creation, the joy of living. They're just prime hero material...not to mention, they're usually hunks! (Oops, did I say that??? LOL) Gotta love 'em!

 I've got some catching up to do, and I want to beat the new release that's coming! So here's Tanya's first in this series, Hearts Crossing Ranch.


A beautiful city slicker and a rugged cowboy…The perfect Wild West adventure. Cowboy Kenn Martin bears the guilt for allowing a coach to ruin his younger brother’s bright athletic future. Feeling unworthy of any happiness, he’s lost his faith in relationships and in God. When he meets Christy Forrest, he begins to hope for redemption but soon learns his past mistakes aren't something she'll easily forgive. On the Colorado wagon train adventure planned by her late father, landscape designer Christy Forrest seeks to find peace in the nature she loves. However, she can't let go of her anger at the drunk driver who killed her dad—or the woman who did nothing to stop the man from driving. Falling for Kenn Martin begins to lighten her heart…until she realizes the handsome cowboy carries heavy a burden all his own—a burden she’s not sure she can accept.


“How’d you do?” Kenn was at her side to help her down as soon as the wagon parked in a sun-bright meadow so breathtaking words stopped in her throat. For a moment, she wobbled as she got back her ground legs.

“Oh, Kenn, it’s grand. Glorious. More than I could have imagined.” She smiled with delight at the sight of him, and all thoughts of her wavering faith vanished in Kenn’s presence. “Although I don’t think the Blake boys are happy about leaving their iPods and cell phones behind.”

He chuckled. “That’s the rule. No electronic devices. Hearts Crossing Wagon Tours are as close to nature as we can get. One customer pouted the whole trip. He couldn’t believe we don’t have Wi-Fi.”

“Yeah. Mitchell firmly believes three days without texting will ruin his life.”

Both of them laughing, Kenn led her to a fragrant meal, arranged buffet style on the back of the chuck wagon. Portable tables and chairs were set up, but a group of boulders did nicely for seating as well. Around the bluff, ponderosa pines and mountain alder trees thirty feet tall reached to the clouds. The creek she’d noticed along the trail burbled nearby, and with birdsong in the air and that exquisite sky overhead, Christy couldn’t imagine a setting more perfect.

“It’s like I had a checklist and could mark what I want. And it’s all here,” she mumbled as Kenn handed her a tin blue spatter plate.

“Hmm?” Deep brown eyes looked down at her, sun-streaked brown hair ruffling the back of his neck in the breeze.

“It’s just perfect. More even than your brochure promised.” For a flash, she pondered what Mom would be doing back home in Pomona. After his retirement, Daddy had wanted to move to Palm Springs near Aunt Ruth, but so far, Mom refused to leave the house on Faculty Row.

Christy filled her plate with fragrant down-home fare while Kenn took twice as much. “Just perfect,” she repeated.

“Well, we aim to please.” Without even talking about it, Kenn and she headed for the boulders at the same time. Through her jeans, the rock was warm and soothing.

“So, cowgirl, it’s perfect, huh?” Kenn definitely had a triumphant tone in his voice, but his eyes had a glint that set her heart to smacking hard against her ribs three or four times.

She gobbled a brownie before answering. No dainty manners here despite that glittering gaze. “Absolutely. The only thing I need now is to ride a horse. I can do that, can’t I?”

“You’re a horsewoman?” Kenn didn’t sound completely surprised, and she got it. Her hat, the boots. Gear she wore on her landscaping projects.

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I can ride. I took lessons at Girl Scout Camp when I was thirteen.” Of course that had been, well, seventeen years ago, but wasn’t it like typing or skiing? Once you learned, you never forgot?

Kenn swallowed a big bite of burger and then pursed his lips. He had a hearty appetite to be sure, but took his time. Nothing messy or wolf-down for this cowpoke. “Yeah, all right. We got some mounts good for greenhorns.”

Obviously he’d done the math and realized it had been a long time. She gave him a rueful grin.

“I read your rules,” she said. “I’m wearing padded bike pants.”

“You’re somethin’.” He chuckled as his words warmed her through in a little drawl all his own. “Then you can mount up after we eat. How’d you hear about us?” He took another masculine, but mannerly, bite.

Glad for her own mouthful, she gathered her composure and took her own time to reply. She’d save the sob story for another time. “My late father. He was a professor of American studies and loved the Old West. I guess growing up with TV Westerns, this is something he always wanted the family to do.”

Suddenly she realized she had to explain somewhat. She was here alone, after all. “But he… passed away before he got the chance. So I’m here representing all of us.” She nodded, her hat bouncing along with her head. Daddy had given it to her one birthday not long ago.

“Well, whatever reason brought you here….” Kenn’s voice was soft, but she heard every word above the lunchtime chatter and wind in the trees. “…I’m sure glad it did.”

She liked what he said, wanted to know whatever he would share with her without being nosy. “I know all the nightmare stories, about real wagon trains getting caught in snow in the Old West. So I know you don’t do these tours in winter. What do you do then?”

“Ski on weekends. Rest of the time, I guess I’m a kindred spirit of your dad. I teach American Lit at Mountain Cove High. About eight miles from Hearts Crossing.”

Something fun and crazy skittered up her spine. A teacher? American Lit? Didn’t they say girls always ended up with guys like their fathers? She held off an eye roll and shoved the foolish thought from her brain.

“What about the rest of your family?” she asked, quick to change the subject. “Do you all help out?”

“Yep. All eight of us,” Kenn stretched out his legs. “When we were kids, Pa told us right off the ranch couldn’t sustain everybody. So we have other jobs and help out here when we can.”

“Wow. Eight. That must be some Thanksgiving dinner. I’m an only child.” Even she heard the trace of wistful in her tone.

“Must be lonely.”

Christy shrugged over her last bite of brownie. Never shy about food, she’d taken two. “Well, yeah. But Faculty Row was a tight community. Most of the profs had kids. But tell me about the eight of you.”

“Me and Hooper, you already know. I’m the fourth. Kelley, after me, is sous chef at a restaurant in Denver. Uses her vacation time to cook for the tours.” He slathered more barbeque sauce onto his burger. It was delicious, and she wondered if Kelley made it from scratch. “You sure you want me to go on? Could be a snooze-fest.”

“Oh, yes. Inquiring minds want to know.”

He shrugged. “All righty, then. Rachel’s second-oldest, after Hoop. She’s an attorney, and Hearts Crossing is her biggest client. Right now, she and Nick are expecting their first child. A boy.” His shy grin melted her heart. “Third born, Pike is a wrangler—” he pointed to another good-looking cowboy working with the string of horses “—as well as a large animal vet. Scott comes after Kel. He and I take turns as wagon master and alternate running our Cowboy College. He’s also our webmaster and runs our on-line store. ”

“Cowboy College?”

“Yep. Back at the ranch. Our three-day workshop on ranching skills. Roping steer. Branding. All the things you can imagine a cowpoke ought to know how to do.”

“Cool.” It did sound great, inviting even. His large and busy family intrigued her. “But that only brings us to six,” she said.

“Bragg’s a CPA.”

For whatever reason, he stumbled over the name, and his fingers tensed around his fork, but then he spoke up in his usual tone. “He’s busy during tax season for folks all over Jackson County, but rest of the time, he tends the ranch finances. And Chelsea, well, she was Ma and Pa’s little afterthought. She’s a freshman at Boulder. My alma mater. You?”

“Oh, I love Boulder. It’s noted as a ‘green’ campus. I’m a landscape architect in Calabasas, California.”

For a moment, sadness surged. It was Dad’s insurance money that had helped her expand Forrest for the Trees Landscape Design in the high-end community. Business had really taken off, recession or not. Of course the guest feature on HGTV last winter had certainly helped.

She forced out the words as casually as she could. “Dad used to read to me every night. Regular stuff like Where the Wild Things Are and Little Women. When I was in middle school, he started me on Walden. Thoreau taught me something about myself I hadn’t known.”

“What was that?” His voice was soft.

She looked down at her toes, somehow shy. “That I wanted to get down and dirty with nature.”

“Thoreau’ll do that to you.” Kenn spoke the name almost reverently. Wind rustled like music. “We’ve something in common, then. After reading him, I knew I was meant to teach American Lit. And get my nature fix here at Hearts Crossing.”

Something in common. Christy liked the sound of that.


Oh, I loved this story! Kenn and Christy both have so much to learn, and so much to gain as they draw closer to each other and to the Lord. And using the beauty of the great American west, with a touch of the adventurous spirit of the settlers is absolutely wonderful! I loved the scenery, the view of the great outdoors - of God's country - the perfect setting for drawing closer and finding who God really is.

Wonderfully written. I thoroughly enjoyed this story!

Buy link:

About the author:

Although she's a California beach girl, Tanya Hanson loves setting her stories in the wild American West. Cowboys make great heroes. A high school teacher of American Lit and writing, she enjoys traveling with her firefighter husband and spoiling their two little grandsons. You can reach her and

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Monday's Child - Clare Revell

Welcome Clare! I've been anxiously waiting for the start of this series! You have such a great touch with suspense I just couldn't wait to read it! I love the rhyme that tells about the stories to come in the series!

Monday’s Child must hide for protection,
Tuesday’s Child tenders direction
Wednesday’s Child grieves for his soul
Thursday’s Child chases the whole
Fridays Child is a man obsessed
Saturday’s Child might be possessed
And Sunday’s Child on life’s seas is tossed
Awaiting the Lifeboat that rescues the lost

So here's a bit about the first:

Monday’s Child must Hide for Protection...

This was not the assignment Luke Nemec expected when he came to the UK—babysitting a beautiful widow. It wouldn’t be so bad if Sara wasn’t such a hostile witness. Despite her complaints and continued jibes, Luke finds himself falling for her.

When, Sara Barnes is thrown into the witness protection programme, she becomes the “wife” of Lt. Luke Nemec, an American cop on temporary assignment with the British police. Despite Luke’s American bravado, she finds he’s kind and considerate in ways her late husband never was.

But things aren’t always what they seem, and Luke soon realizes he’s fighting a battle of two fronts to keep Sara safe. Loyalties are called into question, and he’s no longer certain who he can trust. Luke is way out of his depth. As the threats against Sara escalate, it’s a race against time to find her husband’s killer before Sara is silenced forever.


Just a perfect June day...Sara leaned into Jamie as they walked the damp, dark streets toward the car. The movie had been great, her new husband’s company magical, but the thought of the rest of the evening made her heart sing. Not even the drizzling rain could quench her joy. God had been gracious to her, by placing a wonderful man like Jamie Barnes in her life, at a time when she thought she was destined to be alone.

Jamie was a charmer, with dark curly hair and movie star looks to match. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve his attention, never mind his sudden proposal, but she wasn’t complaining. He loved her, so she could overlook his foibles and long days he spent travelling for work.

A jarring thud jolted her as the bag twisted violently off her shoulder. “Hey...” She gripped at it to find herself flying through the air, her head hitting the ground hard.

“You all right, babe?” Concern flooded Jamie’s voice.

"Yes...don’t let him get away.”

Jamie set off after the thief, as Sara struggled to her feet, seeing stars. Her head spun, and she felt sick. So much for the perfect day. She turned to see Jamie and the thief struggling under the streetlamp. A flash of metal, a swift upward movement of an arm and Jamie hung writhing, looking down at his chest. She screamed his name, her heart pounding as a stab of fear and shock hit her hard. “Ja-a-a-a-m-m-m-m-i-i-i-e-e-e…”

The tall thin man turned to face her, the knife in his hand. He released Jamie, letting him slump to the ground. The man’s piercing gaze, the hatred in his eyes, and the cruel thin hardness of his lips burned into her memory as Sara ran towards her husband’s motionless body. Long greasy locks and fine rain outlined against stark white streetlight framed the assailant’s face like a halo, reminding her of the angel of death.

The terrifying sound of a gunshot tore through the misty night air. The sound ricocheted off the alley walls, blue smoke expanding outwards little by little. Pain exploded though her as a bullet ripped into her body. Sara screamed as the blast knocked her to the wet ground. She landed hard, next to where Jamie lay in an ever increasing pool of blood, her breath coming in short gasps.

She grabbed her leg in pain as slow, deliberate footsteps squelched towards her. Black lace-up combat boots stopped in front of her face. There was a loud click as the hammer on the gun rose, but she wasn’t as scared as she thought she might be. Lord, if I am to die now let it be swift.

Footsteps ran down the street towards them, shouts echoing. A closer voice called. “We have to go. Someone’s coming.”

The man gave her a cold stare. “You’ll keep, doll. I’ll be back for you. That’s a promise.” The threat in his voice echoed in the empty recesses of his eyes. Sliding the gun under his jacket, he vanished into the night, taking her bag with him.

Buy link:


Wow, with an opening scene like that how can you not just jump right in? I know I had to! What a great story! Ms. Revell keeps the twists and turns coming. And you've been warned - things are not always as they seem!

If you love a good romantic suspense then grab this one quick! You won't be disappointed!

Monday, April 23, 2012

Lesson in Lone Creek - Mary Manners

Welcome back, Mary! I am enjoying this new series so much, I thought I'd welcome everyone back to Lone Creek Ranch for another visit as the cast of characters grows. Brother #3 is absolutely wonderful! Wow! They just keep getting better!


Nick Merrill longs for adventure, and he finds it as one of the most highly-praised smoke jumpers on the West Coast. But when his best friend dies fighting a blaze, he returns to Lone Creek Ranch to shake off the loss. There he finds Sawyer Landon, a local middle school teacher who has a gift for reaching even the most difficult kids. When Sawyer asks him to speak at the school's annual Career Day, sparks fly. But Nick knows teaching and adventure are as polar opposite as it get--or are they?


Nick Merrill wrinkled his nose at the acrid odor of burned wood that permeated the cab of his pick-up truck. No amount of fabric refresher seemed to be enough to remove the foul smell. He grimaced and shifted in the passenger seat as memories rushed in to crowd his head—memories of Jeremy’s harrowing last minutes here on earth.

For a moment the blue horizon, framed by swaying grass of a wheat-tan pasture that was just beginning to green, faded and Nick was back to that fateful day. He could almost feel flames coursing across his back as he and Jeremy delved deeper into the fire-engulfed forest of Washington State. The resulting furnace had turned their jumpsuits to ovens. Heat licked up Nick’s spine, singeing hair at the nape of his neck. He shifted the pack on his back, thankful for the protective fireproof tent folded inside. If the winds shifted, even slightly, he’d need it. He clenched his jaw and the muscles across his shoulders knotted into a keen, tight ball. The roar was deafening…who would have thought flames could devour the ground—and everything in their path—with such a howl?

The truck hit a pothole, jarring Nick back to the present, and Dalton, his older brother by less than two years, glanced over from the driver’s seat, his deep-blue eyes narrowed with worry.

“Hey, bro, are you OK?” Dalton’s voice, low and gravelly, did battle with a cool breeze that rushed through the passenger window.

“Yeah.” Nick brushed a hand across his stubbled chin and turned his head so Dalton couldn’t see his eyes. They felt gritty with sleep, and his shoulders ached from another restless night. He hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, and was considering just letting the shadowy patch grow. He rolled his shoulders to battle the ache as his gaze drifted to the pasture grass beyond the window. Spring kissed the horizon, and the foothills of the Smoky Mountains danced with a flurry of Bradford Pears coming into full bloom. The snow-white blossoms wreaked havoc on Nick’s sinuses, and he swiped a hand across his face, drawing a ragged breath. “Just trying to wake up.”

“You’ll adjust to the early hours again.” Dalton nodded. “The ranch is changed now, and, well, it never really sleeps. We have programs morning to night, and Carson keeps the schedule pretty tight. You’ll get used to it.”

“You know how much I love mornings…” Nick had always been the night owl of the four Merrill brothers, and usually he could function on a shoestring’s worth of sleep. But losing Jeremy, his smokejumping partner and best friend, had really thrown a wrench into his system. Now, all he wanted to do was sleep. He’d let Dalton drive his truck, because his brain fogged from the pills he’d downed the night before in hopes of losing the gut-twisting memories for a while. And now he wondered why he’d allowed Dalton to roust him from bed and talk him into riding along into town at this early hour. Sleep was a much more comfortable option.

Dalton cleared his throat and pressed the gas. The truck flew over the highway. “I tossed a box of flyers behind your seat. Would you mind dropping them by the middle school while I head over to the building supply store? The school is expecting them to arrive this morning.”

“Flyers for what?”

“That camp Carson has slated to start next month—an outreach for troubled teens.” Dalton’s voice softened and Nick marveled that his brother cared so much about wayward kids. What had happened to the headstrong, bull-riding tough guy he’d known all his life? Dalton’s next word offered a clue for the change. “Emilee has a friend who teaches English at the school, Sawyer Landon, and she thought it would be a good idea to distribute the information, maybe draw in a few more kids who’ll benefit. Apparently, there’s a need for a camp like ours.”

Emilee…Nick might have known she was the reason for the transformation he’d seen in Dalton. Come to mention it, Jessica had worked a number on Carson, as well. The two brothers walked around starry-eyed, with grins the size of watermelons, whenever their wives’ names were mentioned. Marriage might work for them, but Nick had no desire to jump on that particular wagon.

A woman named Sawyer sounded like the kind of trouble Nick didn’t need—or want. “I’d rather go to the supply store and you deliver the flyers.” He pressed a finger to his temple to battle a throbbing ache that drummed like rain on a metal roof. “At least the store’s quiet, but the middle school…not so much.”

“Overruled.” Dalton thumped a palm over the steering wheel. “Suck it up and deal, Nick. The building supply store is my gig. Emilee would have my hide if the building order got mixed up.”

“Yes, she would.” Nick turned to Dalton, frowning. “And, you’re still bossy, you know.”

“It’s one of my favorite qualities.”


Between the beautiful view she paints with her opening words, and the emotional turmoil in the hero’s heart, Ms. Manners drew me into this story from the start.

Sawyer is precious, just a little spitfire, a bundle of energy that reaches out to everyone around her, and obviously touches Nick’s heart even when he can’t see beyond his own pain. You can’t help but hurt for Nick, for the loss of his friend. And yet his good-heartedness shines through when he meets up with trouble of the teenage variety. What a great story!

Although this story is short, it’s packed with emotion. I loved it!

For more about the author, visit Mary at

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Injustice for All - Robin Caroll

Welcome Robin! I just love romantic suspense, and this story is a great one! I realize this is the first book in your Justice Seekers series, and the second one will be out in September (can't wait to get my hands on it).

Here's a peek:

A federal judge lies bleeding on his office floor, betrayed by a most unlikely source—people who helped him bring criminals to justice. Now, why would someone working for the FBI need to disappear after witnessing this crime?

When Remington Wyatt sees her godfather’s murder, she recognizes the killers and knows it’s only a matter of time before they come to silence her. She must do the only thing possible to stay alive . . . run.

FBI agent Rafe Baxter is serious about his career, and solving a cold case involving a federal judge’s death puts him in line for the promotion he so desires. But the case leads him to the small town of Hopewell, Louisiana, where some secrets seem inextricably hidden deep within the bayou.

Injustice for All explores what happens when everything a person believes in is utterly destroyed. Who can you trust?



Every muscle in my body stiffened, and my mouth went spitless. Chambering a round was a distinct sound, unmistakable.

My hand gripped the railing as questions swarmed my mind. A gun? In Daniel’s house? He’d been opposed to firearms ever since my father was murdered.

I took a step off the second-story landing. My palm itched to grip my own handgun at the moment, but knowing how Daniel felt, I’d never bring it over. Even when I spent the night.

“Put that gun away.” My godfather’s voice held a tremble as it drifted up to me. Never, ever, had I heard Daniel’s voice be anything but commanding.

My heart pounded harder than before—my ribs felt the punishment. My knees weakened.

“Not hardly. You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you, Daniel?”

I broke out into a cold sweat, recognizing that voice. And the angry tone. I should have—sure had heard it enough times. Was this real? Not him. I had to be mistaken. Because if he’s the one with the gun…

I descended, my feet making no sound on the plush stair runner. Reaching the first floor, I glanced at the alarm system control panel by the front door. No indicator lights ablaze. My throat and gut flipped places. Why have the security feature if Daniel wouldn’t use it? I padded across the cold marble floor of the darkened foyer and activated the silent alarm. 
The gated community security would arrive.

Would it be soon enough?

“When government witnesses come to me after a trial and confess your team pressured and bullied them to fabricate their testimony, what am I supposed to do? Look the other way?” Indignation rose above the wobbling of Daniel’s voice. “That’s not who I am.”

A boulder slammed sideways in my throat. I froze. This couldn’t be happening.

A lone siren howled in the night. Shivers took over my self-control. I peeked down the hall. Light spilled from Daniel’s office.

I quickened my pace down the hallway, careful not to bump into the entry table with the lamp that had crystals hanging from it.

“Too bad. It could have saved your life.”

“Get out of my house or I’ll call the authorities.” Daniel’s voice, once again strong…authoritative.

Hope warmed my chest.

“As if that would do any good? We’re acting on orders here. Orders from higher than our pay grade. We’ve always been acting on orders. You’re the one who is dispensable, Daniel.”

Daniel’s gasp was barely audible. Unlike my pulse pounding in my head.

Thwap. Thwap.

No mistaking that sound either—shots fired with a silencer.



Oh my goodness, this story just grabs you from the first page and has you on the run with Remington until the end. The prologue alone is enough to pull you in, to draw you to Remington's side, to want to see justice done!

And Rafe - so torn between emotion and ambition, what he has to do vs. what he really wants. What great characters! Ms. Carroll gets you right under their skin.

This is one heart pounding thriller that keeps you on the edge of your seat with a steel thread of faith running through it to hold on to. The plot is intricately woven and the author layers danger and secrets, love and fear, faith and forgiveness with such a light hand that you don't even realize how deep you've gotten until there's nowhere to look but up.

Inspirational romantic suspense doesn't even come close to telling you all that this book is. It's a gut wrenching thriller that will hold you captive until you reach "The End" - and then you just want more.

I can't wait for the next one!

Robin Caroll has authored eleven previous books including the critically acclaimed Deliver Us From Evil. She gives back to the writing community by serving as conference director for American Christian Fiction Writers. 

A proud southerner, Robin lives with her husband, three daughters, and one precious grandson in Arkansas.

For more about the author you can find her at:

Monday, April 16, 2012

Inspirational fiction - Shadows, Book of Aleth, Part One

Welcome, Michael. Thank you for stopping by to share a bit about Shadows, your first book with Pelican Book Group. (The first of how many in this series, enquiring minds want to know...or is that yet to be determined?) Well, now that’s a good question.  The sequel comes out this summer.  It’s called – Revelation: Book of Aleth, Part Two. My belief is that I will have the entire story told in a total of four books, but we’ll have to see. J

You know, this story rings of some of my favorite fantasy writers: Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, Herbert's Dune, Terry Brooks' Sword of Shannara, Piers Anthony Xanth. A quest and a mismatched band of characters who I'm sure are capable of so much more than they ever expect of themselves...makes my fingers itch to start turning the pages.

Thank you! To be named with such company is an honor indeed. You put me in rarified air! I’ve read every author you named – and they all serve as inspirations for me.

It has been my desire to write about such mismatches because I find this reality in the church. God brings together such different personalities and gifts to accomplish His will that to try and make this rag-tag group all the same is just not what is real in the work of God.

So true! We all need each other, and we all bring something different to the table.

So, when did you first start writing seriously, as in know that you had a book in you? Can you tell us a bit about your path to becoming a published writer?

I knew that I had a “book in me” very early on in my life. I was sixteen when I started writing my first story. But, when I started thinking of my life and future (I graduated at 17), I was told by my dad that I needed to pursue other career choices. Literally, he told me “that’s no job for a man.” Having that dream successfully crushed, it wasn’t until I was 35 that I regained the desire to write.

Now, however, I had been walking in the Lord for 16 years and was a pastor. So I thought that I should write theological books. But the nagging desire to write stories began to awaken. Like a long-lost friend, I found my passion for fiction and put together the first two books of the Aleth series.

That was in 2003. I finished writing the initial draft (yes—the rough draft). Little did I know then that it was SO rough! I shared it with an editor (who is still a good friend) and she told me that the story was great – and would be wonderful once it was written by someone with some skill. I was summarily crushed and decided to take some time to learn the craft.

Two years of study (through the Christian Writer’s Guild) I reworked my manuscript and shared it with a plethora of publishers. However, as I prayed and listened to God, Harbourlight (Pelican) always returned to my field of view. Finally, after rejections uncounted, an email came from Harbourlight and an offer. I knew it was God’s doing and I joyfully signed the contract.

God definitely directs our paths! Personally I love Pelican Book Group, such a Spirit filled group.

So how does your writing life fit in with pastoring? And how do your church members feel about you being a published author now? Are they supportive?

Yes, my church is very supportive. At first, they didn’t understand why I was pursuing this but they did understand that it is better to pursue God’s will even when it doesn’t make sense. So, they encouraged me. When Shadows was published, they were the first to purchase copies! One went so far as to purchase several copies and share them with her family.

Being a writer does fit well with the pastoral ministry. It took some time for me to work it all out (as far as time constraints) but I love to teach God’s word and both venues provide the opportunity to do so.

Praise God, isn't that the truth!

Has fantasy always been your favorite genre? And who are your favorite authors?

Fantasy has always been my favorite genre!  I have loved the authors you mentioned earlier (Anthony, Tolkien, Hebert, Brooks) as well as others like David Eddings and Anne McCaffrey captivated my imagination.

Ooh, I loved Anne McCaffrey, RIP, with her dragons...

So here's a little about the story for those who haven't had a chance to read it yet:

If history is written by the victorious, what if the victors lied?” This is the question that weaves its way through the heart of this story. Shadows is an allegorical fantasy about Aaron, a captain in the Royal Guard, who discovers that all he’s ever known to be true is a lie. He sets out on a quest to find the one book—the Book of Aleth—(Aleth is the Greek word for truth) that will unlock the swirling mysteries that haunt his life and plague his thoughts. Accompanied by unlikely companions, Aaron is beset by difficulties and betrayals.

This first book is a part of a larger series where Aaron must recover the Book of Aleth and rescue the nation of Celedon from the deceptive dominion of the usurper, Emperor Therion. The prophetic time of restoration looms and the Book of Aleth is the key. Aided by elves and dwarves, and all those loyal to the truth, Aaron embraces his role as the Protector of Celedon and sets out to restore the nation he has sworn to protect.


A stolen text...When the Book of Aleth is stolen, Aaron, captain of the Royal Guard, is ordered by Emperor Therion to reclaim the ancient tome. The mission thrusts Aaron into a world he's never known--a world of elves and dwarves, races long thought extinct; a world where everything he has known and believed is a lie. A secret past... Forced to challenge his long-held beliefs, Aaron and his companions, two soldiers of the Royal Guard and two men of the Dwarvish kingdom of Brekken-Dahl, set out on a quest to recover the Book. Aaron resolves to discover the truth, and rescue the empire he is sworn to protect.

Ooh, this sounds great! Can we have a little teaser, please???


An explosion of fire shook the ground. The Protector stumbled to his knees and gazed upward at large daemons soaring through an ash-filled sky. The dark, leathery-winged creatures hurled flaming spheres at the lone defender. Each ball of fire burst in a violent detonation that shook the earth, but the sword he held radiated even brighter, its emerald glow thwarting every attack. No magic could penetrate the radiant circle of light. 

Undaunted, Celedon’s captain rose to his feet and held his ground.

The Protector’s heart raced with anticipation. In his steeled eyes, a fierce anger burned against the Usurper. He knew that his greatest challenge drew near. He suffered no fear, but hungered with the desire to avenge himself upon the hosts of evil. He knew his duty—to protect the King and defend Celedon, and at that duty, he believed he had failed. He thought of his wife and son and all those who remained inside, of those who stood loyal to the King. He gazed back toward the last, great city.

The high, granite walls of Charis guarded the hosts of those loyal to the King. Atop the battlements, the Protector saw archers of the High-Born elves, vigilant and ready to defend the city. The tall, oak gates at the center of the city wall remained closed. Along the ramparts, flags displayed the crest of the King of Celedon and fluttered in the breeze. Beyond the massive wall, in the midst of Charis stood the Tower of the Wind, a regal spire of white marbled stone. It shimmered in contrast to the black curtains of smoke. The Protector gazed up to the pinnacle of the tower where he saw a rampart and upon the rampart stood the King.


If you enjoyed Tolkien's world in the Lord of the Rings series, then you will certainly enjoy Shadows, The Book of Aleth.

Michael Duncan has masterfully created a fantasy world riddled with evil, sometimes unseen. And through it all, the great hope inspired by The Book of Aleth touches the hearts of even the staunchest unbeliever, and all who learn of it begin to see through the lies of their world.

It's been years since I've read anything in the fantasy genre, but I must commend the author for a well-inspired, well-written work. This story truly deserves recognition in the fantasy realm...I'm sure Gandalf would agree.

This book is available at online retailers such as and Barnes and Noble. It is in both print and e-book formats. For more information, you can find it at: 

 For more about the author, go to:

Friday, April 13, 2012

Deadly Chase - Wendy Davy

Welcome, Wendy! It's been a few months since we've seen you here, but welcome back. I believe Stranded was the last time you were here back in October, and that was a great story! I'm so glad you're here again! 

I've enjoyed a number of your stories and I really enjoy the variety! It seems to me that suspenseful stories are a favorite of yours. Is that true? Yes! I love suspenseful stories, especially if they are romantic suspense. I enjoy trying to figure out who the bad guy is. :)

LOL Now you sound like me! Well, this one was full of suspense and I loved it! You're great at keeping your reader on edge right to the end! Thanks:"> blushing

Do you have anything else planned at this time? Sure do. I have my next three stories lined up. One of which is a sequel to Deadly Chase. I thought Chase's brother, Jake, deserves his own romantic suspense story. He's such a cool guy, and I thought his career as a National Park Forest Ranger would be fun to explore...

Ooh, sounds great! He seems like such a neat guy. So quiet, but you know what they say about still waters running deep. Now I can't wait for more!

 Thanks again!

Well, let me give them a peek at this one before we get too carried away!


Sierra Malone trusted the wrong man and now he's trying to kill her. After narrowly escaping Kevin Eason's brutal attack, Sierra leaves her home, her family, and everything familiar. She finds temporary shelter, but it provides little relief from her constant fear. Desperate and alone, she considers an offer of protection from a stranger--but she soon learns he's harboring a potentially deadly secret. Chase Price wants Eason behind bars, and he's willing to do anything to get him there, even if it means waiting for Eason to strike again. With an innocent life on the line, Chase sets out to finish this battle once and for all--but he soon learns guarding Eason's beautiful victim leaves him wanting much more than he anticipated.


Stark terror brought Sierra Malone fully awake as a heavy body pressed her deep into the mattress. Darkness cloaked the room, but she didn’t need vision to know who had invaded the privacy of her home. His sickening, familiar scent washed over her, confirming Kevin Eason’s reign of terror continued. 

His sweaty palm clamped over her mouth and powerful fingers closed around her throat, constricting her airway. She clawed his skin and thrashed her legs. Sheets tore from the bed, wrapping her in a shroud of tangled cotton. His bruising strength outmatched hers, dooming her attempts at freedom. Pinpricks of light danced before her eyes. Just when she feared she’d pass out, Kevin removed his hand from her mouth and eased the ironclad hold on her throat. Sierra filled famished lungs to capacity and opened her mouth to scream, but managed only a strangled sound. 

He shifted and switched on the lamp. As light flooded the room, Kevin’s face—contorted with fury—came into focus. Revulsion turned her stomach. How could she ever have thought him charming and handsome? Blood beaded along his jaw where her fingernails had penetrated, and a heavy drop fell onto Sierra’s bare shoulder. 

"If you kill me, they’ll put you in prison for the rest of your life." She forced the words through her raw throat. 

"They didn’t catch me before. They won’t this time."

"What do you mean?" Sierra rasped the question as panic squeezed her chest.


I loved it! Deadly Chase is an edge-of-your-seat, can't-put-it-down kind of book. My heart was thumping right along with Sierra's as she tried to outrun the evil that was after her. 

The characters in this story are so true to life that you can't help but root them on, and share their triumphs - and their tears. Chase is a hero after my own heart. I love it when a hero is real, is willing to admit his faults and doesn't try to hide them. 

And the emotions between Chase and Sierra  just keep on building while terror looms over her every step of the way. 

Great story! Very well done!

Wendy Davy is an award winning author with several titles available. She uses her active imagination and love of adventure to create faith based stories of the heart. When not writing or chasing around her young children, she spends time reading, enjoying her real-life hero and watching movies. 
She loves hearing from readers and can be contacted at .
Visit Wendy at

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Hearts Key - Marianne Evans

Oh my goodness, and last, but certainly not least, today, Marianne Evans visits us from the Woodland Church family with her story Hearts Key. It's so sad that this is the last of the series, I'll miss you and this lovely cast of characters, Marianne! Woodland Church feels so much like home.

And what about that cute little girl on the cover??? Pyper is adorable and this cover captures her perfectly!

Okay, so once again, assuming I'm not the last person in this crowd to read this one, Marianne has made a liar out of me again. THIS ONE IS DEFINITELY my favorite! LOL okay - I can't choose - they're all wonderful and I can't believe it's over. I think we should all be doing the standing ovation thing to bring on an encore!

Here, I'll show you what I mean about this story. Take a look...


A chorus of faith sung in the key of second chances.

Once the effervescent leader of the pack, Amy Maxwell should have had the perfect marriage. Instead, she escapes with nothing but the clothes on her back and her daughter, Pyper.

Once the shy teen, Tyler Brock has evolved into a powerhouse in Christian music, and when he returns to Woodland for a benefit concert, Amy can’t believe he is as faithful and tender as ever. He even manages to touch the heart of a doubtful Pyper.

But Amy can’t escape her own self-doubt, and she questions the wisdom of her heart when it comes to the charismatic musician who is so different now, yet so much the same.

Can the key to their hearts unlock a lifetime of love?


“Mark? Mark, where’s Pyper?”

His answer was an unintelligible, guttural sound.

Alarms sounded in Amy’s mind, making her heart pound. “Marcey from next door was sitting with her while I shopped. What happened to Marcey?”

Braving it up, Amy crossed through the living room, taking stock. Her footsteps came to an abrupt halt. On an end table by the couch rested an open, well-sampled bottle of whiskey. Positioned right next to it she spied a tumbler, coated by dripping beads of condensation. Inside the glass were traces of gold liquid and a pool of melting ice. So, Amy seethed, Mark had come home, and imbibed in the hard stuff. Nice.

She wilted, but continued on to the kitchen. How long had the booze been out in the open? They had a rule about no whiskey in the house. What was a bottle of high-proof alcohol doing within potential reach of their four-year-old daughter?

In that instant a flashpoint occurred. Resignation and sadness morphed into rage. His reckless disregard for the safety of their daughter added fuel to her mood. “Mark!”

Mark Samuels stepped into the threshold, planting his feet firmly while he braced against the archway between the living room and kitchen. He wobbled a bit, but the stance said it all: drunken belligerence. “Back off on the sanctimonious vocals, Amy! I’m not in the mood! I’m not taking any of your crap! I mean it!”

She was so used to this. Instance by instance, Amy became immune to his menacing tone; it bore no impact or dissuasion. Calmly she moved past him and set her groceries aside on the small kitchen table. Then, she returned to the living room and picked up the bottle and glass. The new food could sit and rot for all she cared. Amy pushed past him on her way back to the kitchen where she planned to dispose of both the whiskey and the glass.

“Back off?” She stepped up to the sink but turned to glower at her husband. “Back off when you’re home early from work, guzzling liquor? Where’s my daughter?”

“Our daughter,” he amended harshly, “is in her room. She’s being punished. She wasn’t listening and refused to do what I told her to do, so I sent her to her room until dinner.”

Amy stopped short. Dinner wouldn’t be ready for a couple of hours. On this humid, stifling summer day, being jailed in her room would be terrible for Pyper. Their home wasn’t air conditioned, and there wouldn’t be much for the four-year-old to do. Toys, games, and furnishings were sparse. In fact, it was a miracle they maintained possession of their home, considering the heavy debt load they carried and Mark’s sporadic income.

She became aware once more of the bottle and glass she held. “After I toss this out, I’m telling her she’s free to leave her room.”

“Oh, no you’re not.” Mark swore liberally as he stalked in close. Looking him straight in the eye, Amy poured the remaining whiskey down the drain and threw the glass into the sink so hard it shattered.

“I see. So you think that’s how it is.” Vindictiveness shone in Marks’ eyes. “That’s just fine.”

He staggered to the small china hutch tucked into a corner of the kitchen. Crafted of maple, it was well worn, a beloved heirloom from Amy’s grandmother. They had inherited the piece a couple years ago. Mark yanked open the doors. With sloppy motions he reached inside. He grabbed stacks of dishes from inside and just let them fall.

Irreplaceable, depression-era glass and Rosenthal china smashed to the floor. “We even yet? Want s’more?”

Amy ran, pulling on Mark’s arm in an attempt to get him away from the cabinet. But he was a big man, solid muscle; when she came near, he shook her off easily, sending her to the floor in a sprawl. She righted herself quickly, stumbling against the refrigerator.

“Stop it! Stop! Please stop!” Helpless, she could do nothing but watch while Mark swiped at an artfully arranged display of wine goblets. Soon they were reduced to nothing more than sparkling shards that decorated the hardwood floor.

Amy cried out, thinking of the beautiful memories held within those few precious mementos from her past: the family dinners, holiday celebrations, happy laughter. Her china was sacrosanct, one of the few things she refused to pawn in order to support her family.

The china and…

Mark spied her camera, a simple digital unit that was her lifeline to sanity. A part of what augmented her income as a receptionist for a fitness center in Sterling Heights, Michigan. Her heart lurched. No, she screamed in silence. Please, no! I have a freelance assignment this weekend!

The inner plea came just seconds too late.

He hefted the small, silver unit, which gleamed and still looked like new even two years after purchase because Amy pampered and cared for it. Photography was her release, her joy…and Mark was about to destroy it!

He threw the camera against the wall; it burst apart on impact and Amy cried out, sinking against the counter.

“I got fire—laid off today.” He continued to storm through the kitchen. “Stupid idiots in charge of that stinkin’ factory don’t know their left hand from their right.” He spun toward her. “So if you push me now, I’ll push you right back. If you get in my way, I’ll take you right out of it!”

Amy didn’t doubt that fact for a minute. However, she hadn’t missed the slipup Mark made between being fired and being laid off. Her husband was defeating himself. Again. He was taking her right down with him. Again. Gambling, booze, and spotty work attendance had combined to do him in. Again. Amy scraped the very bottom of her heart, trying desperately to find even the tiniest piece of hope for her relationship with Mark. The effort was answered only in an emptiness that stole her joy, and ever increasing fears for herself and Pyper.


This story is wonderful! Oh my goodness, I can't tell you how many times it made me smile, or laugh...or cry.

Ms. Evans touched on many sensitive subjects in this one story, and handled them with tender loving care. The way she develops Amy's personality and shows the depth of her love, as well as Tyler's is indescribable. Amy is such a spiritual work-in-progress, and after all she's been through it's like watching a flower blossom - then start to wilt - then come to full bloom. It's beautiful. And the patience Tyler shows, after waiting a lifetime for this love to come to fruition, can only come from God.

Wonderful story! Don't miss it!

Marianne Evans loves to tell a good story. She’s seen a number of her books published. Kensington Publishing purchased her first book, Friends & Lovers. Her second contemporary romance, Right Hand Man, followed shortly thereafter. Her third release from Kensington, Hannah’s Heart, won critical acclaim in The Oakland Press. Her fourth book, a novella entitled With This Kiss, is her first offering at The Wild Rose Press. Hearts Crossing is her first inspirational romance and marks her debut at White Rose Publishing.

A resident of suburban Detroit, she’s happily married with two kids and a family that never fails to support and encourage. An active member of Romance Writers of America, she’s a long-time member of Greater Detroit RWA where she served the chapter in a number of capacities, most notably as treasurer and two terms as president.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Hearts Communion - Marianne Evans

Surprise! Welcome back, Marianne! I loooooved this story! I don't know why I've waited so long to read this series (well, other than the fact that I had other time commitments...). I can't begin to say how sweet this story is - how heartfelt! What a joy to read!

You are a real wonder, Marianne!

Okay, so if there's anyone else out there who hasn't read this one, I can't say enough good things about it, obviously. It's a GREAT story! Here, take a peek...

Jeremy "JB" Edwards dreams of one thing: Having a loving wife and children of his own. Not a surprising ambition, since he was raised at the heart of a large, tight-knit family. Monica Kittelski spends her days at Sunny Horizons Daycare Center pouring her heart and faith into other people's children. But Monica harbors one impossible dream: Having children of her own someday. JB and Monica seem the perfect match, but what will come of their electric, sassy relationship when Jeremy learns of Monica's infertility? Hopes and reality collide when they must confront the idea of finding God's plan and following His will when a dearest hope is destined to remain unfulfilled. Can these two loving, passionate hearts survive a communion of dreams and reality?


Jeremy Edwards’s cell phone came to life. A vibration sizzled against his hip, and as he unclipped his BlackBerry, the display screen lit up with an incoming text:

HELP! Ur nephew is raging with 101 fever. Can u pick him up from daycare n keep him 4 a while? Txt, don’t call. Im in class. DESPERATE! APPRECIATE! C

Jeremy, JB to everyone who knew him best, re-read the missive from his brother, Collin. Collin’s wife, Daveny, was out of town, pitching a corporate landscaping project in southern Ohio. Collin would be teaching his high school English class for another—Jeremy flicked his wrist and quick-checked his watch—two hours or so, depending on student demands.

So he stopped painting freshly installed drywall and stepped off the ladder, calling out to one of the crewmen at work on the task. “Greg, I’m gone for a couple hours. Tell Mindy I’ll be back later tonight to install the dishwasher for her.”

“Will do. See ya, JB.”

Gotta love flexibility, Jeremy thought with honest gratitude. Leaving behind a living room buzzing with remodeling activity, he went to the kitchen of the modest, three-bedroom bungalow his construction company was helping to renovate. Gratis. There he grabbed his leather jacket from the spot where he had draped it over a chair at the dining table. After sliding it on, he texted his “yes” to Collin’s request and hit the send button.

The project he currently spearheaded was part of an effort to give back to his hometown, especially as summer construction activity slowed down and a fiery Michigan autumn bent toward winter. That fact drove itself home as soon as Jeremy stepped out the back door of the kitchen and found himself buffeted by a stiff, biting wind. He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets, lowering his head as he jogged to his pickup truck.

He auto-started the vehicle, then his thoughts zeroed in on Jeffrey, his nearly three-year-old nephew. Jeremy grinned to himself. He was happy to help Collin. After all, Jeremy absolutely doted on his nephew—and everyone else in his family.

Climbing into the cab of his truck was a welcome relief from the elements. Before leaving, he pulled out his phone once again and performed a location search on Sunny Horizons Day Care Center. He had a vague idea of where the facility was located, but had never been there.

Navigation in place, he backed down the bumpy driveway of Mindy Nather’s home, frowning at the cracks he saw in the asphalt.

“Needs work,” he muttered, driving toward the business district of Saint Clair Shores. Meanwhile, he mentally mapped out crews, supplies and the time necessary to repair the driveway, tacking that aspect of the job onto the living room and dining room renovations, which were nearly complete. He used downtime at a stoplight to open up a pack of cashews and pour a few into his mouth.

Crunching the snack, he shook out some more and moved forward, following traffic to an area of the city that featured a number of stand-alone retail buildings. Behind them were neighborhoods full of nice homes, still-green grass and trees gone spindly and barren. JB munched on more cashews, chewing while he kept watch for the address of Jeffrey’s daycare center. According to technology, he was getting close.

Sure enough, a minute or two later he spotted a wooden sign featuring a rainbow, a large sun full of rays, and the words Sunny Horizons painted in a variety of bold, primary colors. The moniker resided on a patch of grass in front of a well-maintained ranch-style home crafted of red brick that had been converted to commercial use.

Finishing up his get-me-through-to-a-late-dinner protein boost, Jeremy tossed the wrapper into a cup holder and turned into the parking lot. He brought the truck to a stop, thinking about his nephew. Poor Jeffrey. He’d take him straight home to Collin’s place where the boy could rest up and recover in his own bed.

But what, exactly, should somebody give a sick two-year-old? How much of that liquid medicine stuff would Jeffrey need? While he considered, and made plans to call Collin on that count, JB walked past the window line of the facility and glanced inside

That’s when his focus sharpened on the scene inside, and his footsteps came to an abrupt halt. A thought slipped into place with compelling impact: What a gorgeous woman. Long blonde hair fell forward in layers, framing a face that featured fair skin and expressive, baby-blue eyes. The straight, thick strands swung as she moved from place to place, spotting pre-school kids currently playing Twister, which caused his insides to spark. Jeans and an aqua colored sweater showed off a trim figure. She laughed easily, talking the kids through difficult moves and exclaiming when players tumbled and fell.

Quick as a blink he watched the lovely lady shift focus. She turned away from the Twister competition and whisked up one of the smaller toddlers who lingered shyly near her legs. Lovely Lady stepped into a clear space. Face alight with pleasure, she spun the toddler, who seemed to laugh and enjoy it just as much as her female charge.

In fact, the sensation was contagious. Jeremy smiled in response to the pair.

And I’m still riveted to the sidewalk. He silently chastised himself, performing a mental shake that jostled him back to the moment at hand. Stay on point, JB! Jeffrey. Nephew. Sick kid in need of help.

He approached the entryway and stepped inside. But rescue mission or not, he looked forward to meeting the woman.

Buy link:


Ooh, a mystery woman, and an all-around nice guy - with chemistry flying all over the pages. What a great story!

Between Monica trying to protect her heart from wanting the one thing she can't have, to Jeremy on his mission to get to know her better, trying to get past all the walls she hides behind, this story just flies by. I loved it. I can't begin to say how sweet it is, what a joy to read!

Come share in the moments of fear and joy, and love and heartbreak - and wrap yourself in this family that truly knows how to love.

Really, if you haven't read this one, get yourself a copy, and sit down and enjoy. Warning. You won't want to put it down!

About the author:

Marianne Evans loves to tell a good story. In fact, she’s been enthusiastic about writing ever since she could string sentences together. Joining White Rose Publishing gives her the opportunity to combine two of her greatest passions – love of the Lord and exploring the world of romance.
She’s seen a number of her books published. Kensington Publishing purchased her first book, Friends & Lovers. Her second contemporary romance, Right Hand Man, followed shortly thereafter. Her third release from Kensington, Hannah’s Heart, won critical acclaim in The Oakland Press. Her fourth book, a novella entitled With This Kiss, is her first offering at The Wild Rose Press. Hearts Crossing is her first inspirational romance and marks her debut at White Rose Publishing.
A resident of suburban Detroit, she’s happily married with two kids and a family that never fails to support and encourage. An active member of Romance Writers of America, she’s a long-time member of Greater Detroit RWA where she served the chapter in a number of capacities, most notably as treasurer and two terms as president.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Journey's Edge - Dora Hiers

Welcome, Dora! Well, after a little confusion here folks, I realized that I never read Book One of this series, which I'll be sure to correct and get back to you on! But for now, let's celebrate Dora's new release of Journey's Edge. It's a wonderful story even though I didn't read the first one. Thanks for stopping by with it, Dora!


A Routine Audit? Hardly. Red flags—including some goon who's following her—raise McKinley Frasier's suspicions that numbers don't add up at the insurance firm. When someone tries to snatch McKinley's daughter from school, she turns to police officer and ex-fiance, Renner Crossman—the cop who walked out on her a month before their wedding. But Renner's not the same guy who broke her heart ten years ago. He calls himself a "new man." She trusts the new Renner with her daughter's safety...but what about her heart?


McKinley stopped at the door to her room and inserted the card into the lock. The red light flashed.
A door closed farther down the hall. McKinley glanced over her shoulder. A man stepped from the stairwell into the hallway, his head turned in the opposite direction.
But she recognized the suit.
The same suit she had stared at all day. Malcolm Brugman, so-called insurance agent. Also know as thief, slime ball.
Her pulse raced, and a giant clump of fear lodged in her throat. How did he find her? What did he want? Whatever the reason, it couldn’t be good, and she wasn’t sticking around to find out.
She yanked the card out of the slot, inserted it again.
Still the red light. Come on. Come on.
With shaking fingers, she jerked the card out and tried again, pressing her body against the door. The door swung open. McKinley lunged into the room.
Her face plowed into an expansive, muscular chest. Strong hands grabbed McKinley’s upper arms. A vague, familiar smell permeated the man’s torso, a citrus and woodsy scent mingled with masculine deodorant. She heard the door close behind her and felt legs wimp out on her. Good thing this guy held her up or she would have sank straight to the floor like a pile of spaghetti. She angled a hand to eject chest hair from her tongue, trying not to make a face.
“Honey, if you’re looking for that kind of action, you’ve got the wrong room.”
“What?” McKinley gasped. She knew that voice, that rich timbre with just a hint of teasing. Always teasing, forever flirting.
Renner Crossman.
Oh, no! What kind of twisted sense of humor did James suffer from? She didn’t want to see Renner. She only wanted to know that he was in the hotel.
McKinley tilted her head back, inching her line of vision up to Renner’s face. Just to be sure. A lot could change after ten years. Look at her. She was a prime example.
She heard his deep intake of breath. Shock? Yeah, well, she could relate.
Ten years faded into yesterday. Those espresso-colored eyes still gleamed with mischief. Or was it something else? Maybe he hadn’t changed that much.
His hands tightened around her arms, pulling her against him. She closed her eyes and leaned into his chest.
His heart thumped a tune with hers. His breath whispered against her hair. And the scent of his aftershave was like a dear friend. She sighed. What was it about him that latched on to her innermost dreams and desires and wouldn’t let go? His grin? His have-no-cares-in-the-world style against her organized, have-to-know-everything-beforehand outlook?
He looped his arms around her back and pressed his forehead to hers, just like he used to do. When he’d made her feel loved and cherished. Protected. Special.
A clamp tightened around her stomach, cut off air, and she almost tossed the cookies she’d scarfed down in place of dinner. Gag.
Yeah, right. More like used and abused. Thrown away with the trash.
She wasn’t safe in here, either. She braced her hands against his chest and jerked a step back, telling her brain to reject his familiar, comforting scent. She would take her chances in the hall.
He dug his hands into his jeans pockets. “It’s good to see you, Kinny. Thanks for coming.” His words carried only a hint of teasing, more the weight of sadness.
“I didn’t come here to see you.” Liar. Why didn’t you check into the Sheraton right down the street? She shook her head to mute that mocking inner voice.
“But…you’re here. I’m glad.”
“Yeah. So am I.” Oooh, what was she saying? She pressed fingertips against her forehead. “Not the glad part. The here part.”
One corner of his lips curved. She glanced away from him, away from the power he still apparently held over her, taking in the male clothes strewn over the back of the couch. Still a slob. But was he alone?
Her fingers tightened their grip on her shoes. “What are you doing in my hotel room?”
“I was here first, sweetheart.”

Buy link


I absolutely  loved, loved, loved the early scene where McKinley literally falls into Renner's...chest. LOL What a great story this is. Heart pumping fear, and confused emotional tension saturate this story and keep the readers on the edge of their seat listening for footsteps in the hall, or headlights in the rear view mirror...or the citrusy woodsy scent of a man lingering in a room.

Ms. Hiers does a wonderful job of making you feel like you're right there in the story in the middle of the action. And then toss in a man who has a heart for kids and...well, he's every woman's hero. And Renner does make a FINE hero.

I love romantic suspense, and I especially love it when it's well written, and this one certainly is.

Great job!

About the author:
After a successful auditing career, Dora left the corporate world to be a stay-at-home mom to her two sons. Eventually, needing something more to fill her days, she started writing heart-racing, God-gracing books that glorify her Creator. Dora belongs to the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) and the Carolina Christian Writers.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Hearts Surrender - Marianne Evans

LOL Well, Marianne, welcome back again. I guess I should have invited you to come back soon. Or did I? LOL Well it's springtime in New England, and we don't quite know what to expect. From 70 degrees F to 30 in one week has been quite a jump, though! But I must admit, visiting Woodland has certainly been warm and welcoming!

So here we have another wonderful tale of the unexpectedness of love - how sometimes it finds us when we're least expecting it - obviously by God's design. Take a look!


Kiara Jordan is a sophisticated modernista, but beneath an engaging personality and super-model looks, her heart hungers, and she longs for deeper meaning in her life. Ken Lucerne is the charismatic young pastor of Woodland Church; he's adjusting to life as a widower and copes by keeping as busy as possible with his parish and missionary work. A home-building mission in Pennsylvania brings them together, and forces them to look hard and deep at the relationship they share, and where God means for it to go. Already bound by mutual respect and caring, love dawns, a love that takes them to a life-point neither would have expected. After all, can a chic, vivacious woman find fulfillment within the quiet, mission-centered life of a clergyman? Can they trust God's hand strongly enough to surrender their hearts to one another...forever?


In an unexpected, graceful motion, Ken caught her swing by the chains. He held her in place, suspended backward, with nothing but a cushion of air between them. All at once Kiara went dizzy and hyper-focused, tempted once more by that full, supple mouth, and the satiny-looking fall of his thick brown hair as he leaned over her. He was close enough to touch. In this moment, she wanted nothing more than to do just that.

“Some time, at some point, I’d like to hear more about that, Kiara. I’d like very much to know how you became the woman you are.”

She looked at him steadily. “I’d bore you to tears. It’s nothing extraordinary.”

“All present evidence to the contrary.” He set her gliding once again and Kiara’s stomach performed a sparkling fall-away. She delighted in his words but forced herself to brush them aside before they could take root and sway her into believing he saw richness to her spirit. After all, it was part of Ken’s persona to be gracious and encouraging.

But he continued, and those arguments splintered to shards when he said, “You're moving forward in directions that are not only admirable, but eye-opening—not just for you, most likely, but to everyone who's part of your life—don't hold to what other people see, or expect of you. Be who you are. And while you're at it, create the best version of yourself you can imagine. The only question, with the only relevance that matters, is this, Kiara: Who are you now?”

Buy link:


I just love the way Ken puts Kiara on the spot - pointing out her obvious desire to serve. The way these two "click" and fit together so perfectly is wonderful to behold, even as they struggle past the obvious difficulties that a relationship entails between pastor and parishioner, and a widower pastor at that.

The way he deals with the people in his church, the understanding, as well as correcting them when they're wrong is the true heart of a pastor to God's flock. Ms. Evans has captured it perfectly!

She also has a wonderful way of touching the heart of the reader as she delves into the spirit of her characters. I loved this story just as much as the others of this series. She could just keep 'em coming as far as I'm concerned, and I'll keep gobbling them right up. It's sad that the series is already finished. But don't worry, I'll share the rest with you next week!

Marianne Evans loves to tell a good story. In fact, she’s been enthusiastic about writing ever since she could string sentences together. Joining White Rose Publishing gives her the opportunity to combine two of her greatest passions – love of the Lord and exploring the world of romance.
She’s seen a number of her books published. Kensington Publishing purchased her first book, Friends & Lovers. Her second contemporary romance, Right Hand Man, followed shortly thereafter. Her third release from Kensington, Hannah’s Heart, won critical acclaim in The Oakland Press. Her fourth book, a novella entitled With This Kiss, is her first offering at The Wild Rose Press. Hearts Crossing is her first inspirational romance and marks her debut at White Rose Publishing.
A resident of suburban Detroit, she’s happily married with two kids and a family that never fails to support and encourage. An active member of Romance Writers of America, she’s a long-time member of Greater Detroit RWA where she served the chapter in a number of capacities, most notably as treasurer and two terms as president.