Passarinho and the Highlander: Adventures in Love and War by Fran Connor Genre: Historical Romantic Adventure

A privileged young woman in 1730s Boston sets out on an adventure to rescue her father from a debtor’s prison in Jamaica. A dashing Scottish soldier offers to help her in return for her help in exposing a traitor. Shipwreck, spies, murder, war and a rival for the Highlander’s affections combine to thwart her mission. She finds the darker side of life in the Caribbean is a far cry from her sheltered upbringing. To survive and succeed in her rescue she must adapt and, on the way, she discovers a secret about herself that could have disastrous consequences for her future. Buy or download now through Kindle Unlimited and enjoy this gripping Romantic Adventure with a flawed heroine. Goodreads * Amazon

I live in SW France for the lifestyle after a career in a UK Police Force. I have six published novels, three more in the pipeline and six plays that have been produced on stage. My screenplays portfolio contains seven feature length scripts with one about to go into production. I write mainly Historical Fiction but I do other genres too. I don’t do cop stories, I had enough of the real thing. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

She could see the ship better now as it cut through the surf towards her. Had they seen
her? Pain shot through her legs as she lifted herself onto her knees. To stand up, she knew,
would capsize her makeshift life raft. She did not care if they were pirates or if they were
French, Spanish or British. All she wanted as she knelt looking at the ship was a drink of
water to slake her desperate thirst.
Susannah may have grown up in a sheltered environment back in Boston, but she was
no foolish or naive girl. A semi-naked woman appearing before men who may have been at
sea for months may invite disaster. But water… she needed water.
Now the ship was close enough for her to see the people onboard, though she could not
tell their nationality. A man stood on the poop deck with a telescope that she hoped was
looking at her. She pulled up her chemise to try to cover her breasts.
An awful feeling swept through her body when she saw the ship turn away from her,
and then elation. They lowered a boat over the side, furled the sails and dropped anchor.
Susannah looked up at the sky. “Thank you!”
Her eyes searched the boat party for an officer or gentleman as it approached. That was
more of a hope than a likelihood as she checked them out. Her mind flitted through available
options and found none.
Without a doubt the vision that the nearest sailor beheld must have been the strangest
he’d ever seen. Had he read Robinson Crusoe published twenty years before? His tarred
pigtail and scarred face did not suggest to Susannah a reader.

The boat pulled alongside Susannah’s raft. Still on her knees with one hand trying to
hold up her chemise, she looked at the sailors. “Hello, could you help me? I’ve had rather a
difficult problem. I would appreciate passage to civilisation.”
The men in the boat roared with laughter.
One of them seemed to have a slight resemblance to an English gentleman from the way
he held himself. His clothes, though well-worn, did have signs of quality, and he wore a
tartan sash.
“Glory be! And of whom do I have the pleasure?” said the man in a cultured Scottish
accent, much to Susannah’s relief.
“Miss Susannah Fitzpatrick of the Boston Fitzpatricks, sir. I am a survivor of the Diana
shipwreck.”
“Well, Miss Fitzpatrick, I do believe you will have a fascinating story to tell. It must
wait until we are aboard. We cannot anchor off for long for reasons that will become clear to
you. I am Donald Murray of the Auchterarder Murrays, Miss Fitzpatrick, at your service.” He
gave a slight bow while still sitting down in the prow of the boat and then offered his hand to
help her aboard.
Donald Murray, in Susannah’s brief assessment, was a man in his late twenties. Under
his sunburn, red beard and long, unkempt hair that matched the colour of his beard, he may
even have been handsome. His bearing, which she first mistook as that of an English
gentleman, was that of a proud Highlander.

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Once in a Lifetime Opportunity by Jessica Hardy as told to Lizzie Ashworth Genre: Memoir Publication Date: November 4, 2019

In the mid-20th century, an entire generation of women found themselves caught up in a revolution. Young women tossed aside society’s rules that had governed women with an iron hand for hundreds of years. Suddenly women had agency, the right to their own identity. And their own sexual adventures. The story of Jessica Hardy and her seven-year marriage to Parker Grant brings that enormous cultural shift down to the personal level. As she enters college in 1966, Jessica is desperate to break out of her strict upbringing. Parker is her salvation, a graduating senior who becomes the love of her life. Newly married, they immerse in Parker’s duties as an air force officer and a world of their own making—nights in Las Vegas, windy Pacific beaches, and long summer days in the Philippine Islands. Slowly, with Parker’s encouragement, Jessica gains self-confidence and a sense of herself. But Jessica has a problem. She wants more. More knowledge, more experience, autonomy. Leaving no stone unturned, Jess breaks one rule after another—illegal abortion, drugs, one man then another, even time in jail. It’s an unexpected spiritual awakening that opens the door to the rest of her life. Once in a Lifetime Opportunity reveals this tumultuous time in a gut-wrenching portrayal of a woman determined to find her own way and the man who loved her. Goodreads * Amazon

Early years of my life raced by with little time for writing as I pursued a technical career, raised children, and made questionable progress in learning to paint. Finally with time to write, I dedicate myself to stories of pleasure as well as the occasional editing project. I enjoy cooking, gardening, and time at the Pacific coast. Sunrise and sunset bring special moods, the twilight between two worlds–fully of creative energy. I love snuggling up with a good book most of all–and a cat or two. Website * Facebook * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

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Black Heart Boys’ Choir by Curtis M. Lawson Genre: Horror

Great art demands sacrifice. Lucien Beaumont is a teenage misfit and musical prodigy ostracized by his peers and haunted by familial tragedy. When he discovers an unfinished song composed by his dead father—a song that holds terrible power—Lucien becomes obsessed. As he chases after the secret nature of his father’s music, the line between gruesome fantasy and real life violence begins to blur. To complete his father’s work Lucien believes that he and his group of outcast friends must appease a demonic force trapped within the music with increasingly sadistic offerings. As things spiral out of control he finds that the cost of his art will be the lives of everyone around him, and perhaps his very soul. Goodreads * Amazon

Curtis M. Lawson is a writer of unapologetically weird, dark fiction and poetry. His work includes Black Heart Boys’ Choir, It’s a Bad, Bad, Bad, Bad World, and The Devoured. Curtis is a member of the Horror Writer’s Association, and the organizer of the Wyrd live horror reading series. He lives in Salem, MA with his wife and their son. When he is not writing, Curtis enjoys tabletop RPGs, underground music, playing guitar, and the ocean Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

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The Flying Woman Terrific Book 1 by Daniel Sherrier Genre: Superhero Fantasy The impossible has become reality! A masked man possesses extraordinary powers, and he’s using those fantastic abilities to fight crime and pursue justice. Meanwhile, Miranda Thomas expects to fail at the only thing she ever wanted to do: become a famous star of the stage and screen. One night, Miranda encounters a woman who’s more than human. But this powerful woman is dying, fatally wounded by an unknown assailant. Miranda’s next decision propels her life in a new direction—and nothing can prepare her for how she, and the world, will change. Add to GoodreadsAmazon * B&N * Books-A-Million * IndieBound

Daniel Sherrier is a writer based in central Virginia. He is the author of the novel “The Flying Woman.” A College of William & Mary graduate, he has worked for community newspapers, written a few plays that have been performed, and earned his black belt in Thai kickboxing. And there was that one time he jumped out of an airplane, which was memorable. Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Amazon * Goodreads

1

The elevator carriage settled, and Miranda expected to find Officer Hoskins somewhere along
the well-lit path, ever vigilant as he stood guard over the park. But once the door opened, she saw
only a long, vacant stretch of brick surrounded by topiaries and impenetrable darkness. The park did
span several acres around the tower. Perhaps something demanded Hoskins’s attention.
Miranda kept her phone in hand as she began her brisk walk, reminding herself that this was one
of the safer parts of town. Still, her parents had issued many warnings about the dangers a city held
after dark, and her mind replayed the greatest hits. Miranda felt her ears expanding to catch even the
faintest rustling of leaves.
She heard something else. Not leaves or wind or any scurrying critter. Nothing from nature.
Nothing natural.
A moan. It was coming from somewhere behind those bushes. Miranda’s senses all dialed up to
maximum.
She decided to ignore it and stay on the path, stay under the lights. Keep her eyes on her phone
and check the hell out of those text messages. Or pretend to while secretly poised to dial 9-1-1 if the
need arose—a need like someone leaping out and strangling her.
Whatever it was, Officer Hoskins was probably already on it. That explained his absence. But
what if he was the one moaning?
“I’m hurt,” the moaning person called out from the darkness, her voice hoarse.
It was definitely a woman’s voice, not the policeman’s. And he wasn’t around to respond to the
cry for help.
This could have been a trap—some creepy man lurking, sheathed in the dark, ready to throw the
first unsuspecting good citizen into a black van. And if not, well, really, what could Miranda do to
help? Aside from the simple task of dialing 9-1-1.
It would be the right thing to do, in case someone was suffering. Miranda could make the call
and run away.
“Help. Please.”
Miranda wanted to keep walking until she exited the park, but her feet refused to budge and she
cringed. She remained physically capable of forward momentum, just not mentally.
Her stomach folded in on itself, threatening to incite debilitating queasiness unless she did the
right thing. If she walked away, she’d spend days or weeks dwelling on whatever she walked away
from, constantly checking the news for any hints about what the hell this was. All food would lose its
appeal, and she would look back on the concept of sleep with nostalgic fondness.
She considered running back up to Ken, but he was nearly half a mile above the ground. And
someone right here might be hurt.
Miranda dialed the digits 9-1-1 and positioned her thumb over the “call” icon. Without hitting it
just yet, she advanced toward the source of the moaning and commanded herself not to dissolve into
a shivering mess of nerves. She did not heed herself. Her shaking thumb almost jabbed “call” by
accident.

Didn’t happen, though. A flash of light cut through the park for just a second, and she stopped.
Where did it come from? Not the park’s lighting system. Was it … Fantastic Man? Was she about to
meet Fantastic Man? This seemed more like something he should handle, not her.
“That was me,” the woman said, each word scraping against Miranda’s ears. So scratchy and
parched. She wasn’t far, maybe only a few feet into the darkness. “Want to make sure I … have your
attention.”
Without stepping off the path, Miranda dared to look between the bushes. A new source of light
flickered low to the ground, revealing a much older woman lying on the grass. The light came from
the strange electricity that was cascading over her unusual outfit, which looked like a superhero
costume—emerald tights with a scarlet cape. A deep red symbol occupied the center of the chest, the
silhouette of a bird’s wing melding into a fierce, sharp beak. The costume lacked a mask, though. But
this woman had to be at least fifty, maybe sixty, and Miranda had never seen her before. Surely if an
older female superhero had emerged, she would have dominated the news as much as Fantastic Man
did, probably more so on account of her unexpected demographic affiliation.
Or was she a supervillain? Was this a trap? Was Miranda stupidly falling into a trap?
The woman was clutching her side, pressing her hand against a dark liquid …
Blood. The super electric woman was wounded to the point where she was bleeding all over the
grass. Miranda did not care to stick around to learn who did the wounding, nor did she relish the idea
of running away and unwittingly intercepting such a person.
The woman reached toward Miranda with her free hand, which glowed as bright as a standard
light bulb, no more intense than that. The electricity never sparked beyond her elbow, so the hand
appeared safe.
“Come here,” the woman said. “Help me up. The pain … is too great.”
If she was actually in pain. Miranda started to wonder. The injury seemed real, but the woman
almost looked like she was smirking. Miranda’s eyes were still adjusting to the aura of electrical
light, though, and she wanted any excuse to get the hell away with a clear conscience.
Paranoia was not an excuse to let someone suffer, so Miranda started to reach for that bright,
quivering hand. And paranoia froze her anyway, after only an inch of movement.
“Should I call an ambulance or the police?” Miranda asked, continuing rapidly without pause,
“And who are you and where is that electricity coming from? Am I in danger just by standing here?
Are you going to kill me? Please don’t kill me.”
The woman chuckled through gritted teeth, as if Miranda had told a joke. “Just grab my hand,
dear.”

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Stella of Akrotiri: Diana An Ancient Greek Tale of Immortals Book 3 by Linda Rae Sande Genre: Epic Fantasy, Romance Publisher: Twisted Teacup Publishing Publication Date: December 25, 2019

Born an orphan, raised as a warrior princess, desired by men. Can an Immortal claim her heart? The first adopted daughter of Stella and Darius, Diana has been raised as if she were one of the fabled Amazon princesses. Her mornings are spent training with Darius at the agōgē, her skills as a warrior matched only by a few of the Deminon army recruits. Her afternoons are spent with Stella as she learns the art of diplomacy and the importance of service to others. Never does Diana wonder why her parents are so devoted to one another, or why they seem to speak of the past as if they lived in it. The curious stares aimed in her direction by the agōgē’s doctor, Antony— even when she’s not in the circle of battle—has Diana on edge. Learning she has a much older adopted brother—one who seems to youthen as he ages—has her questioning her origins. So the arrival of Augustus of Assyria seems fortuitous. Her father’s oldest friend is welcomed with open arms even as he is followed by a threat to the future of Deminon. With his intimate knowledge of her parents, perhaps he’ll have the answers Diana seeks. Or will the Roman senator’s revelation about her only complicate matters? For his attentions are far more intense than those of Antony—and far more arousing. Goodreads * Amazon

Stella of Akrotiri: Deminon An Ancient Greek Tale of Immortals Book 2 Publication Date: December 25, 2018

Love can last a thousand lifetimes when you’re an Immortal… or so they thought. What’s become of the Immortal Darius? His wife, Stella, worries about his fate as she rules over their city-state of Deminon, especially when she learns he’s been the victim of treachery. She’ll do anything to get him back. Enslaved as a traitor to Rome, Darius is forced to fight gladiators as part of the funeral rites of powerful Romans. His years of experience on the battlefield serve him well in the arena—until he’s forced to fight Marcus—a younger, stronger gladiator who is unaware of his own immortality. Sure he’s about to suffer a defeat by the hand of Marcus, Darius is forced to make a decision that will change his future and Stella’s—preserve his essence by allowing his body to die so that he can live on in Marcus. His two-thousand years of memories and life experiences should be powerful enough to overcome the essence of the untested Immortal. Allow him to return to Stella and resume their life together, even if she won’t immediately recognize him. But Marcus isn’t giving up so easily. Especially when he meets Stella. Will Marcus help Darius take revenge on the one whose deceit led to his arrest on charges of treason? Or will Darius’ essence slowly be subsumed, the memories of his nearly two-thousand-year lifespan—and of Stella—fading away in the mind of Marcus? These Immortals once had all the time in the world. Now it’s suddenly of the essence. Add to GoodreadsAmazon * Apple * B&N * Google * Kobo

Stella of Akrotiri: Origins An Ancient Greek Tale of Immortals Book 1 Publication Date: June 28, 2019

Immortality can be a lonely existence, especially when the world is about to implode. For over six hundred years, Darius of Agremon has fought wars on behalf of those who needed his skills in combat. As a lechagos on Strongili, he spends his days commanding the Minoan coastguardsmen against pirates and marauders. His nights are spent alone, for despite having had wives in the past, he has watched them all grow old and die, childless, as he continues to live. So when he senses immortality in an olive farmer’s young daughter, Darius bargains to take her to wife when she is old enough to marry. A foundling, Stella works in her adoptive father’s orchard above Akrotiri, climbing the ancient trees to prune and to harvest the strings of pearls from their branches. She fears invaders when she watches flaming arrows arc in the sky, a sign the island is under attack. She worries about how the ground quakes beneath her feet and steam erupts from cracks in the ground. She wonders at the odd tingling she experiences whenever Darius of Agremon is near, a sensation not unlike the one she feels when spending time in the oldest trees. Unaware of the arrangement her father has made with the lechagos, Stella thinks she has been sold into slavery when Darius comes for her. Her youth has been spent admiring the man who helped her father’s business thrive. Now she has only contempt for him and his hard-headed manner, despite the pleasures he incites whenever he claims her body. While the earth trembles and a volcano threatens to destroy the island of Strongili, these two will have to forge a relationship that will last far longer than a lifetime—one that must endure an eternity and the disaster that’s about to wipe out the only home Stella has ever known. Add to GoodreadsAmazon * Apple * B&N * Google * Kobo

A self-described nerd and lover of science, Linda Rae spent many years as a published technical writer specializing in 3D graphics workstations, software and 3D animation (her movie credits include SHREK and SHREK 2). An interest in genealogy led to years of research on the Regency era and a desire to write fiction based in that time. A fan of action-adventure movies, she can frequently be found at the local cinema. Although she no longer has any fish, she follows the San Jose Sharks. She is a member of Novelists, Inc. (NINC) and makes her home in Cody, Wyoming. Website * Blog * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Pinterest * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

“How is this possible?” Augustus repeated, his gaze turning on Stella. He arched an eyebrow,
as if she could interpret the gesture.
Stella shook her head. “I am sure I do not know what you mean,” she repeated, at a loss to
understand what she just then realized was a hint of something else.
“How is it possible you have a daughter of such beauty and of an age to have children of her
own?” Augustus clarified. “And yet you still look as young as the day I first met you?” he teased.
Relieved there wasn’t more meaning to his query, Stella grinned. “Your flattery will be rewarded
with the very best meal this evening.” She couldn’t help the niggling feeling that he referred to
something else, though, and she made a mental note to ask him about it later.
Diana gave a start when Augustus lowered himself to one knee and reached for her hand. He
pulled it to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles, sending a shiver unlike anything she
had ever felt coursing through her entire arm. Meanwhile, the tickle at the edge of her
consciousness warmed into a pleasant tingle.
If the sensation hadn’t been so pleasant, she would have struck the man’s chin with an upraised
knee and sent him sprawling on the dock. No one had ever dared touch her hand like this
before. No one had ever kissed her hand before. And yet the strange shiver his touch had
incited traveled up her arm and into her very being.
Were kisses supposed to feel like this?
Is this why her mother welcomed her father’s kisses?
And why wasn’t Takoda threatening him with a growl and bared teeth?

She couldn’t being to count the number of times she had paid witness to her father doing this to
her mother. Never had Stella shown any indication it affected her the way this kiss seemed to
have affected her.
Diana was determined Augustus didn’t learn of his effect on her, though. Keeping an impassive
expression on her face, she sent a questioning glance in her mother’s direction, and Stella
replied with a slight shrug and a grin as Augustus returned to standing.
“I am very honored to meet you, my lady,” Augustus said.
Diana allowed a nod. “As am I to meet you, Senator Augustus.” The words came from memory,
drilled into her by Stella when they had reviewed protocols as to how visiting dignitaries were to
be greeted when they arrived.
“Call me Augustus, please,” he insisted, finally giving up his hold on her hand. “I count your
father as my oldest and dearest friend.” His gaze swept the dock and the white marble buildings
before him. “Stella, I see you have kept your city-state in good stead,” he said with appreciation,
noting the lack of graffiti and the good condition of the low buildings closest to the harbor.
“Unlike our Rome, which continues to fester as the years pass by.”

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