Showing posts with label Book Sunday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book Sunday. Show all posts

Sunday, March 23, 2025

Book Sunday at #OurAuthorGang

 Featured book today

Paranormal romance

Read a chapter

Davina Guy (AKA David W. Thompson)

“Damn girl, pick up the stupid phone already! Or turn down the volume – I’m tired of hearing it ring.”

Julianna rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and glanced at the alarm clock by her bed. God, I’m so tired! A full day of exams with only a twenty-minute nap to recover wasn’t cutting it.

She pulled herself across her bed and picked up her phone. Lorelei. She considered fabricating an excuse to steal the reward of a few hours of sleep, but with the next ring, she sighed and answered the phone.

“Hey Lor, what’s up? Is everything okay?”

“I guess it’s nothing a full-frontal lobotomy wouldn’t fix.”

“Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad… let me guess, Mom again?”

“Well, yeah, Mom. Who else? She’s batty, Jules, and battier than normal, I mean. I’m at my wit’s end. She waits for me to fall asleep and goes sneaking out to the woods like before, doing her magical incantations or some shit, I don’t know.”

“Is she taking care of you? You know, during your moon cycle.”

“Taking care of me? Hmm… yeah, if you consider keeping me locked up down there for two days as taking care of me! Then, when she comes down to the basement, it’s like she doesn’t even remember I’m there. She made me miss my Senior Prom, Jules!”

“All right, I’m coming home. It’s good timing with spring break; I just finished my exams. I miss you anyway, and you don’t need to be alone and having to deal with all that. I’ll leave in the morning and should be there by mid-afternoon.”

“No, you don’t have to do that. I was hoping maybe you could talk to her. She might listen to you, and I don’t want to get her upset.”

 “Seriously, Lorelei? You know, the two of us mix like oil and water. I’ll be there. See you in the afternoon.” Julianna hung up before her sister could argue further and dialed the gym. Frank Matheson, the owner, was a good guy to work for. He wasn’t happy to hear she’d miss leading her classes, but Frank seemed to understand at least. Like everyone else, he had enough family issues of his own.

Julianna slipped into yoga pants and a halter and faced her kickboxing bag. She threw a round kick followed by an uppercut and a long series of jabs. Her Yorkie Xena whined from the bed as Julianna completed her routine.

“It’s okay, Xena, I’m not mad at you, baby.” Julianna scratched her behind the ears. She pulled on her slippers and went to the kitchen to tell her roommate, Amy, of her plans. Amy was at the sink, elbow-deep in pots and pans.

Oh boy, I will be a guinea pig for another bout of experimental recipes. Cooking and new food fads were Amy’s antidotes for depression.

“You need to get dressed, Julianna. I’d kill for your beautiful copper skin, but you don’t have to flaunt it, princess.” Amy flipped her perfect blonde curls out of her eyes.

 “This will work for around the apartment, I think.”

“At least put on some decent clothes before everyone gets here.”

“What? Who?”

“Come on, Julianna. Did you forget the guys are coming over tonight? And you tease me about being a dumb blonde.”

“Crap, I did forget, but I’m going to have to be a party pooper. Sorry, but something has come up, kind of a family emergency, and I need to drive home tomorrow. I’ll hang out for a bit, but I really must turn in early tonight.” 

Amy scrunched her lips together and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

Great, Amy’s pissed, but tough, it can’t be helped. The mental release of a party might be exactly what she needed, but all she felt up to right now was sleep, and she dreaded what faced her at the end of her journey tomorrow.

Julianna quickly showered, dressed, and spent time on her research paper before the doorbell rang.

Jen and Deborah arrived together, early, of course, and Amy put them to work arranging the appetizers. Everyone looked up when Amy’s treasured cuckoo clock began announcing the hour from the living room. Julianna knew they were all thinking the same thing.

“Where do you suppose they are?” Jen asked. “I swear, if John and Katie are late, the world will literally end!” In mid-cuckoo, a knock sounded on the door. Deborah cackled in delight when the newly “coupled” couple entered the kitchen.

 “We know you guys too well,” Deborah said, still giggling.

“Well, I’d hope so. We’ve only been best friends since freshman year.” Katie gave each of her friends a hug. “At least we aren’t all finishing each other’s sentences like you and Jen do.”

 Amy laughed. “Yeah, I think I need some new friends. It’s a rare weekend when we aren’t all hanging out together at some point. But speaking of which, I invited two new guys I met on campus tonight. I think you’ll like them.”

“Fresh meat?” Katie winked at Julianna, who shot a look in Amy’s direction (what Amy called her evil eye: one eyebrow hooded, and the other raised), but Amy responded with her sweet, innocent little girl smile, complete with matching dimples. Two guys. Wonderful. That means one for Amy and another one that she intends to fix me up with.

Amy responded to the knock at the door and returned with a blond-haired man attached to her arm. She introduced him as Shane. He was tall, six foot or so, with a tight, well-built body, obvious even under his sports jacket. Julianna assumed he worked out and wondered why she had never seen him at her gym. He looked good, even if he was overdressed for a college party. A freshly pressed shirt and tie completed his dressed-to-impress ensemble. He smelled of money.

Hell, I bet he even irons his socks. No, his maid probably does that. She stared at his earring, a gold crescent moon, an odd decoration for a man’s ear, but then, she didn’t like earrings on men, or on women much either for that matter. Maybe that was the one thing she was old-fashioned about. Julianna preferred the strong, silent, rustic type, a real Marlboro man, but who knew? A different kind of man might change her luck.

As Shane got acquainted with the six friends, Julianna’s gaze swept over him from his head to his brightly polished shoes and he unconsciously paused here and there.  It was a shame she had to bail on the party tonight; it might have been fun. It had been so long since she’d had a break from her hectic life.  She shook her head. No, not tonight. Julianna consoled herself knowing how nice it would be to be home, at least to see her sister, and Lorelei needed her.

Julianna answered another knock on the door, and a sweet candy-like scent teased her nose. She did a double take when Chase Graves, one of her classmates in a few courses, strode in.

He had emerald green eyes, dark wavy hair, and chiseled good looks. No doubt, young women were swooning over him before he even sprouted whiskers, although it was difficult to picture him without his well-groomed handlebar mustache. Chase wore his usual – tight-fitting jeans and a plaid flannel shirt that couldn’t hide his trim and muscular body. He made casual look so hot, so male. In short, he was definitely her type, at least regarding appearances.

Chase reached out and wrapped his arms around her in an awkward hug.

“It’s good to see you again, Julianna.”

Her mind drifted back to the classes they attended together and their coffee dates soon after. They started as fast friends. Then over dinner one night, he started acting possessive, relationship possessive. In all honesty, Julianna didn’t trust her feelings around him, even after their short acquaintance. She had even fantasized that someday, if the family curse was broken, she could get used to having him in her life. He seemed to know every button to push on her heart – and body. Therefore, she no longer let herself be alone around him. Sex had been off the table. Her body warmed at seeing him, but she pushed the thought away. She couldn’t allow herself that, not with the secrets in her family closet.

“I only want us to be friends,” she’d told him after a weekend of soul-searching.

“Very good friends, I hope. What about friends with benefits?” He flashed a white-toothed smile.

“I don’t believe that’s even possible. Friendships like that either become much more or end altogether. I don’t want either one.”

“Then we are at an impasse because I want, no, I need, more.” His green eyes locked with hers before he walked away.

Julianna saw him everywhere around campus after that, always with a woman or two. She ignored him, and the more she did, the more effort he expended in the pursuit, the more he flaunted his female “friends” whenever she was near. Was he ever interested in her as a person? Were they ever really friends, or did he play it up as a ploy to get in her pants? She did the math, and it added up. He had played her. He wanted another notch on his belt, and the harder a woman was to get, the bigger the challenge, and that realization hurt. If he’d been honest with her, she might have considered being one of those notches!

Amy greeted her latest guest and introduced him to everyone.

“We’ve met before,” Chase said, looking at Shane.

Julianna noted the hostility passing between the two men. “So you guys know each other?”

“Yeah, we go way back.” Chase’s nostrils flared.

God, men and their childish machismo, she thought.

Xena strolled into the room and headed to her corner bed until she heard Chase’s voice. She ran toward him, jumped up on the couch, and propelled herself into Chase’s arms.

“Hey, Xena, there’s a good girl,” he cooed in her ear.

Amy pulled Julianna to the side. “Okay, so I spotted you and Chase together in the library, and…”

“We weren’t together, he just sat there. I didn’t invite him.”

“Well, I could see how he looked at you from across the room, but I knew you weren’t interested anymore. I’d love to hear that story sometime. Anyway, after checking out my books, I walked over to your table, but you were gone, so I asked him over tonight. He’s so damn hot, but is it all right with you? I mean… well, you aren’t into him, right? He’s fair game? If he and I were to …”

“He’s all yours, Amy. Rock his world, girlfriend!” Amy was right about one thing, though, Julianna thought. Chase was hot enough to make a woman sweat just being near him, and suddenly, her old desires raced through her body, electric, tormenting her. She had almost forgotten how tantalizing he was. No! If and when she needed her itch scratched, Shane’s chances for a no-strings horizontal thrash were more probable than Chase’s. Shane might at least be honest and appreciative afterward, but a night with Chase would be a seduction built on lies, cheap and tawdry, and just another check mark in his little black book.

Amy gave Julianna a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Jules. Shane’s a good catch, too. I know he’s a little stiff initially, but I heard his dad’s filthy rich, and he only has one brother.” She winked at her, and Julianna rolled her eyes.

Julianna made nice and enjoyed the conversation over light appetizers. She had a few drinks with her friends, both old and new. Chase flirted with all of the girls, even Jen and Deb. Either he hoped they were switch-hitters, Julianna thought, or else he lacked a lesbian notch on his belt, but she still felt his eyes following her whenever she moved.

Julianna thought of how people often grow into their names, but the name of the sluttiest girl she had ever met was named Chastity, and she knew a skinny, nerdy kid who went by Hunter…but Chase? His parents nailed it with his name.

Shane bantered with the other guests but hung on Julianna’s every word, making it clear she was the one he was interested in. When her glass ran low, he was quick to top it off. He was attentive and a perfect gentleman, perhaps too much so. She wondered how he would look in a flannel shirt and jeans – maybe even under her flannel sheets!

“Hello? Julianna?” Shane broke into her thoughts.

“I’m sorry, I was daydreaming.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I’d have to give you change.” She laughed. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“Your necklace, it’s beautiful. I love turquoise, always have.”

“It’s the goddess Diana, the huntress,” Amy interrupted. “It’s Julianna’s one concession to fashion. You will rarely see her without it.”

 Shane looked up from the pendant to Julianna’s eyes. “A woman who looks like you needs minimal ornamentation.”

She smiled. “Why, thank you, Shane. It was a gift from my father, who’s passed, so it’s special to me. Besides, turquoise is the essential adornment for all Native American women.” This guy is quite the flirt. At first glance, he seemed way too prissy for her taste, but there was another deeper element to the man, like when a book doesn’t match its cover. She felt a primal draw just as she felt when she was around Chase.

In a hurry to get to bed or because the drinks helped her relax, Julianna sucked them down and felt lightheaded. She asked to be excused, gave the explanation of her family needing her at home, and said her good nights. She went to the kitchen for a glass of water, and Shane followed. He slipped up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Julianna?”

She turned to face him. “Yes?”

“I had a great time tonight, and I’d like to see you again soon. You said your family lives in Morton, and mine are in Ramsey. Do you think I could give you a call while you’re home? I’m going home over the break too, so maybe we could have dinner together? We are practically neighbors.”

“My father said all mountain folk are neighbors, especially West Virginians. Look, I’m sorry to cut it short, too, Shane. I’d like it if you called. Just don’t tell Amy. I’d never hear the end of it.”

They exchanged phone numbers, and Shane hugged her. He bent over for a quick peck goodnight, and her arms circled his waist in return. A quiver moved down her spine as his lips touched hers and settled at her core. She could feel the muscles of his chest pressing against her breasts through the thin cloth. Julianna was greedy for a human touch, preferably a human male’s touch, and suddenly, this wasn’t just a casual kiss between two new friends. She hugged him tighter and he lifted her to the counter. She felt Shane’s hand slip under her blouse and stopped it before it could continue its advance. Oh God, not this . . . not tonight.

“No, Shane. Stop… I – ”

“Oops, sorry, am I interrupting?” Chase asked from behind them.

“I assume that’s a rhetorical question.” Shane flashed his dark eyes at the other man. Chase glared back, did a slow about-face, and left. Shane turned back to Julianna, tried to step between her legs, and again snaked a hand beneath her blouse.

She grabbed it before it reached her breasts and brought her knees together. “Stop. I like you, Shane, but… stop. I’m not very used to alcohol, not to mention the fact that I just met you or that all my friends are here. There’s no way this is happening.” She tugged on his arm, and he withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry. Good night.” She hurried off to bed.

Sleep found Julianna despite the flash heat Shane had stirred in her and the incessant ramblings of her troubled mind. When she heard the creak of the door’s hinges and Shane stepped inside, she knew she was dreaming.

He pressed his muscular body against her from behind, spooning. One hand stroked its way over her back to cup a breast, then took a lazy tour of other parts of her body – kneading and caressing. His fingernails trailed up and down the back of her thighs, and electric pulses coursed through her at each change of direction. She sighed.

 His hand continued its journey along her body, always stopping just shy of more intimate places. It’s just a dream, Julianna. No harm done.

She heard the rustle of his clothes, and his hands resumed their teasing caress. Her body trembled at his touch, a sweet agony.

He rolled her over, so she lay flat, and his magic mouth followed the path of his hands. Warmth and tingling shocks flushed through her. She wanted him! 

He kissed her belly button, then he moved up and kissed the nape of her neck and her lips and nuzzled her ear.   

 Her eyes flew open, and she quickly surveyed her room. She felt like a child searching under the bed for monsters—but no one else was there.

It wasn’t her imaginary passion that woke her, and no phones were ringing, but there were loud voices coming from the living room. When she heard a loud crash, Julianna grabbed her robe and the baseball bat from the closet before sneaking out of the room. Down the hall to the shared living room, she stared open-mouthed at the scene unfolding before her.

Shane got up from the floor, rubbing his chin, and turned to face Chase. They looked like two battling bantam roosters with their shoulders squared off and chests puffed out. Fire burned in their eyes as each tried to stare down the other. Oh God, this is just what I need: a drunken alpha male showdown. Amy’s treasured cuckoo clock lay smashed on the floor. She sat at the farthest point of the couch, eyes peeking through her hands and mouth wide open. Their other friends were nowhere to be seen.

“Never fucked an Indian before…” Chase started but shut up when Julianna entered the room.

Unbridled fire rose to her cheeks. He didn’t want a notch on his belt for the number of women he’d screwed but for the races he’d seduced. No wonder she was on his hit list. Native American women were rare enough on campus. What a sick shit! “What the hell is going on?” If you guys have a problem, take it outside. We don’t need this crap in here. Are you okay, Amy?”

Amy nodded, and both men looked at her like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Sorry, Julianna, I –” Shane started.

She lifted her bat for emphasis, and she had no qualms about using it. Amy stirred from her trance, jumped up from the couch, and placed a hand on Julianna’s bat.

“I’ll take care of this, Jules. Go back to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone with these assholes.” Julianna glared at the two men.

“I’ll take care of it. I know how to handle them. Get some rest. You have a long day tomorrow.”

Julianna retreated to her room, listened, and waited. At the sound of the apartment door closing, she lowered her guard and fell into a blissful sleep.

David W. Thompson

https://www.david-w-thompson.com

David is a multiple award-winning author, Army veteran, and graduate of UMUC. He’s a multi-genre writer and a member of the Horror Writers’ Association, and the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers Association. When not writing, Dave enjoys family, kayaking, fishing, hiking, hunting, winemaking, and woodcarving.

Sunday, March 16, 2025

Book Sunday at #OurAuthorGang

 Featured books today is an Anthology Series

The What If? Anthology Series

When a collective of talented authors merge their literary skills and unleash their imaginations, a series is born to delight readers who crave thought-provoking stories and aren't afraid to ask the question, "What if?"

With each turn of the page, readers are transported to fantastic worlds where anything is possible, and every twist and turn leaves them eagerly anticipating what will happen next.

This collaboration of creative minds brings to life a captivating journey for those who dare to question the boundaries of reality and embrace the possibilities of the unknown. Each story is a treasure trove of imagination and creativity, showcasing the authors' diverse voices and talents.

 

https://books2read.com/u/b5wDEA

 

https://books2read.com/u/mv9Pxj

 

https://books2read.com/u/m27NQd

 

https://books2read.com/u/mq5qNO


Sunday, March 9, 2025

Book Sunday at #OurAuthorGang

 Today's recommendation

A sleuth mystery by Dawn Treacher

Extract from The Seeds Of Murder

Cedric was a village vicar until his wife packed a small case and left on the bus and didn’t return. There was gossip and speculation. The loss was hard for Cedric to bear. He took to gardening and writing but he soon discovered that lies grow thickly like weeds in a garden and the villagers had secrets of their own.

*** 

Dead heading the roses was always the first job of the day, Cedric’s early morning mug of tea balanced on the fence post beside him. The robin who followed him around the garden as if overseeing his progress, sat a few feet away, a worm wriggling in her beak. Each year the rose bush had grown stronger, its leaves a rich glossy green. Nimbly he snipped the dead blooms, dropping them one by one into his bucket. He’d followed the instructions for propagating a rose to the letter and had marvelled as the limp stick of rose grew roots and sprouted tiny shoots of new life. He’d chosen the spot in his new garden carefully, ensuring it had plenty of sun and room to spread. Now it had grown almost as large as the bush that had spawned its rebirth. He may not have been able to bring his wife’s favourite rose bush with him when he moved that bleak day in early March, but she would have been proud of what he’d achieved, not just in that corner of the garden, with its neat flower border alongside a manicured lawn, but in the multitude of tubs that erupted colour in the form of fuchsias and marigolds and early petunias.

Scarlett had been more supportive than he could have hoped and had even bought him an edging tool for his birthday.

“You should start a blog, Dad,” she’d joked, wheeling a barrow of ripe manure and tipping it over the base of the rose bush.

“Vicar turned gardener, you’d have all the housewives hooked.” Her pony tail of thick auburn hair glinted in the sunlight. Cedric looked away. From the back view, his daughter looked so much like Carolina as she’d looked then, the year took on the vicarage, with its garden so thick with nettles he’d doubted she’d ever tame it. But he’d been wrong to doubt her and indeed had learnt more than he dared to admit from her determination to build a garden from a wasteland loved by bees and thistles alike.

“I’ll set it up for you,” called Scarlett, abandoning the wheelbarrow and slumping herself down on the lawn, kicking off her boots to wriggle her toes. “You just need to provide the words, and we know how good you are with those.”

Cedric joined her, but blogging wasn’t his style at all. It was far too personal, intrusive, letting people comment on what he held dear, mock him for his failings; as insidious as ground elder under the bushes.

Vicar leaves parish under cloud of scandal

Cedric never did discover who the journalist had been talking to, but as with all local papers, gossip sold much better than news and even a vicar made the occasional enemy. He’d left such rumours behind him when he moved ten miles to a new village outside the parish boundaries. No, a blog was far too public and his garden was his and his alone. Amongst the flowers in summer and the fallen leaves in winter, he felt his wife was near in spirit if not in body.

Now, Cedric stood and looked at the pebbled drive which extended down the side of the small bungalow which he and Rubens called home. His new office, as that was what he’d decided to call it, would fit nicely just below the window of his bedroom. He’d be able to sit inside and look out upon the roses; hear the birds singing in the trees. And Scarlett had promised him the WIFI would reach and the whole thing could be plugged into the electrics. He could even make tea.

He heard the crunch on the drive, the sound of an engine stopping, followed by footsteps on the path. Stage one of his plan had arrived in the form of a shabby 1970’s Buccaneer caravan, rather green upon its roof, its windows yellowed in the sun but to him, it was perfect.

Scarlett took charge to dress that caravan as if it were a house in need of a makeover. She may have dropped out of college, claiming fashion design had no future and that lifestyle YouTubing was where all the money was, but she certainly had the flare and the skill. Using Carolina’s old sewing machine at full pelt, Scarlett had soon replaced the faded poppy upholstery on the sofa cushions with smart new green velvet covers and added thick curtains with a tweed finish at all the windows with cord curtain tie backs and matching tweed cushions.

“It’s masculine, yet chic,” she said, as she plumped the cushions and laid down a brown striped rug between the two sofas. She’d found a perfect high coffee table in a charity shop which would hold Cedric’s laptop and notebooks, painted all the cupboards a deep gloss maroon and even bought him a little whistling kettle for the stove top. “You’ll get your novel finished in no time in here,” she’d said, settling herself down on one of the sofas next to Rubens, who’d decided it was better than any armchair in the bungalow. He purred loudly in his sleep.

Yes, it would do nicely as a place to write, but though his manuscript, handwritten in a set of matching notebooks was sitting beside his laptop, that wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he’d bought the caravan from a scrap dealer for a measly three hundred pounds. No, it was an office but not just any office. Now was not the moment to tell Scarlett, or anyone else for that matter. As Scarlett was intent on potting up some plants to decorate the gravel around the entrance to the caravan, Cedric settled down with a mug of tea and bourbon biscuit, notebook open and pen in hand. Rubens, who always took the opening of a notebook as a sign that he had to help out in the art of writing, stretched and then jumped up off the sofa cushion, leapt up onto the coffee table and sprawled out, one paw draped over the edge of Cedric’s work of the day before. Cedric gave the cat’s tummy a tickle and began writing.

“...Pushing open the door, Inspector Barnabus found himself in a room in which he doubted another single object could have been wedged onto the shelves which crowded the damp stained walls or  crammed into drawers so stuffed full several failed to close at all. It never failed to surprise him that no matter how heinous the crime or objectionable the perpetrator first appeared, inside each house he searched, hoping to find clues and blame, he found threads of a life, woven tightly together, portraying on the outside the normal existence of a blameless soul. Rooms full of memories and mementoes that the perpetrators never believed would one day be carefully sifted through, catalogued and photographed. This room was no different but as he removed each layer and veneer of deception, just maybe beneath he would find the tiniest fragment of a clue. And here, inside a drawer full of what would appear to be old utility bills and final reminders, was a ticket for a dry cleaners and a quick check on his phone confirmed his suspicions, that it wasn’t one from the city, not even the neighbouring town, but one two hundred miles away.”

It was late afternoon by the time Cedric put down his pen and closed his notebook. He started up his laptop and opened a file on the desktop. Rubens had long since decided his assistance was no longer required and had taken to the floor of the caravan where he’d begun the ritual of washing first his belly then in between his toes.

“Rubens,” said Cedric, typing now. “There’s more to searching for clues than looking in obvious places.” He proceeded to add to a list he’d been compiling in a file entitled: Finding the missing. Look for the mundane in hidden places.

Dawn Treacher

www.dawntreacher.com

Dawn Treacher is based in North Yorkshire, England. She writes in both adult crime fiction and children's middle grade fantasy adventures. She is also an illustrator of children's fiction, an artist and plush artist. She runs both a writing critique group and a creative writing group and goes into schools to promote storytelling.

Sunday, March 2, 2025

Book Sunday #OurAuthorGang

 Today's recommendation

Cozy small-town mystery

Mysterious things happen in small towns.
When Danielle finally quits her boring accountant job and opens an Antiques & Stuff store, her life changes for the better. But soon happy life starts to spin out of
control when the snobbish new owner of the Couture mansion brings a seemingly worthless painting into Danielle’s shop. The ownership of the painting is questionable, and the town’s future is threatened by the plans of the ruthless, rich owner who wants to build a leather factory on the estate, too close to town.
An unexpected visitor arrives, and he may possess the much-needed solution to everyone’s problems in this quaint little town.

Read a chapter from the book

Danielle fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. In her jumbled dream, she was running in a dense forest and her shoes kept sticking in mud slowing her down. She tried to scream but couldn’t make a sound. Someone or something was chasing her, and she knew she had to get away. Suddenly, a beautiful man appeared and embraced her. She felt the warmth of the sun on her face and all her fears disappeared. She held onto his strong arms and looked into his passionate eyes. He started talking in a soft voice and Danielle struggled to hear his words but couldn’t. He caressed her shoulder and when their lips met in a sensuous kiss, she felt a pleasant tingle deep inside her body.

A sudden crashing sound yanked her out of the sweet dream. ‘Bloody Hell’ she heard a man’s muffled voice. What the— someone’s in the store! Fear coursed through Danielle as she stood up and reached for the handgun she kept by the couch, just in case. She felt safer when she occasionally slept in the store after a long day.

Gun in hand, she tiptoed from the backroom and turned the light on. “I have a gun, and I’m a good shot,” she warned, cocking the gun, trying to sound confident.

“Don’t shoot!” The man yelled and Danielle saw him running toward the door. He yanked the door open and heard his footsteps as he was running down the street. A minute later she heard a car engine and then the car speeding away.

Danielle took a deep breath and put the gun on the counter. Her hands were shaking as she dialed the police. “A man broke into my store! He’s gone but I’m afraid he might come back!” she cried.

“The dispatcher instructed her in a calming voice, “Hide in a room where you can lock the door. I’m sending a patrol car right away.”

Danielle was afraid to stay alone and called Sarah. Her best friend didn’t need a long explanation. “I’ll be there in a minute, don’t hang up,” she said, in a sleepy voice and Danielle heard the jingle of keys and Sarah starting her car engine a few seconds later.

The police car arrived at the same time as Sarah’s car screeched to a halt in front of the store. She jumped out and ran into the store barefoot, still in her pajamas. “Are you okay?” she cried out running to Danielle and hugged her.

“I’m fine,” Danielle assured her and looking at the two officers entering the store with guns in hand, continued. “He ran out of the store when I put the lights on, and I heard him driving away.”

“Did you see his face?” the taller officer asked, putting his gun in the holster.

“No, he stood here in front of the counter,” Danielle recalled. “But he turned his back to me so fast that I couldn’t see his face. All I saw was his dark overcoat, and he had gray, neatly trimmed hair.”

“Please look around to see if anything is missing.”

Danielle scanned the shelves and looked at the register. “Nothing seems to be missing.”

“The lock is busted,” the officer observed. “We’ll park in front of the store for a while. I advise you to go home.”

“No, I want to stay here,” Danielle replied. “I’ll call the locksmith in the morning.”

“Then I’m staying with you.” Sarah decided.

“I have spare clothes in the backroom. Go, change.”

“Okay.” Sarah turned and walked by the counter suddenly becoming upset. “Put that gun away, Danielle! I hate guns.”

“I will, don’t worry.” Danielle smiled and put the gun on the shelf under the counter.

After the officers walked out to the patrol car, Danielle closed the door behind them and secured a sturdy chair under the doorknob to hold the door closed. She left the lights on and legs still shaky, walked to the backroom to make coffee.

“Who could it be and what did he want?” Sarah questioned, putting the sweater on she found in the closet.

Danielle spooned the coffee into the filter and filled the machine with water. “I have no idea. Nothing is worth a lot of money in the store.”

Sarah cocked her head and pulled her thick, curly hair into a ponytail with a scrunchie. “Maybe he thought he’d find cash, or perhaps he knew exactly what he wanted.”

“He didn’t seem like a bum or addict who would steal anything to get his next fix. He looked well-groomed and wore Italian loafers. I recognized it because the lawyer down the street wears those kinds of shoes and he makes sure everyone knows that they’re Italian leather.”

“Yeah, he’s a pompous fool.” Sarah giggled and then her voice changed to a serious tone. “But if this man wasn’t just an average burglar who steals anything, he could get his hands on and wanted something specific, why didn’t he just come to the store and buy it?”

“I have no idea. I’m sorry I woke you up, but I was really scared. Thank you for coming over so fast, even in your PJs,” Danielle hugged Sarah.

“Of course, what are besties for?” Sarah patted Danielle’s back.

“I’m too wired to sleep, but you need rest. You’re working today, right? It’s 2 a.m. so you can still sleep for a few hours.”

“Nope, I’m off today, and I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re safe.”

Danielle held up the coffee pot. “Do you want some?”

“No, it always gives me heartburn in the middle of the night. Why don’t you lie down to sleep a little? I’ll stay up.”

Danielle filled her cup. “I’m too wired to sleep. I’m going to paint for a while.”

“Okay, then I’ll rest my eyes on that comfy couch.” Sarah yawned.

Danielle walked to her painting corner and after taking the cover off the half-done painting, she changed her mind. I’m going to clean the portrait of the Musketeer. Let’s see what’s hiding under that new coat of paint.

***

Danielle heard a knock on the window and looked up startled. She saw Mr. Jones straining to peek into the store through the window. Sitting on her stool in front of the easel with a brush in hand, she glanced at the clock. Oh, my! Is it nine o’clock already? She stood up and hurried to the front door. Pulling the chair from under the doorknob, she opened the door.

“Thank God you’re okay!” Mr. Jones pushed through the half-open door and hugged her. “I just heard from the butcher. Do you know who it was? Did they take anything? Did they try to hurt you? Why were you in the store so late?” his questions came as he was trying to catch his breath.

“I’m fine,” Danielle assured the worried mailman, smiling. “I haven’t the faintest idea who it was and what he wanted. He ran away when I yelled out and cocked my gun.”

“Oh, good! You should’ve shot him in the leg. He deserved it.”

“I don’t think he’s from around here,” Danielle speculated. “Only the lawyer down the street wears that brand of expensive loafers.”

“You don’t think…”

“No, he has brown hair and the burglar had silvery gray hair.”

“Now wait a minute!” the mailman grabbed Danielle’s arm in his excitement. “I might have seen that man at the Couture mansion. Mrs. Van Bramer’s secretary said he’s an art expert.”

“What’s going on?” Danielle heard Sarah’s sleepy voice behind her. “Oh, good morning Mr. Jones.”

“Mr. Jones just told me he saw the man who broke into the store,” Danielle explained to her best friend.

The mailman yanked his carrier bag higher on his shoulder. “I’ll stop at the police station and report this.” He started walking away but turned back. “Oh, I almost forgot. The bakery is open. Lucy’s niece had a baby boy. I got you fresh croissants.” He smiled and handed a paper bag to Danielle.

“Thank you, Mr. Jones! It was very nice of you,” Danielle called after the mailman as he hurried away down the sidewalk, and then turned to Sarah. “You’re not going to believe what I’ve found! Come, let me show you.” She reached for Sarah’s hand and led her to the corner in the store.

“Phew, it smells like turpentine over here.” Sarah crinkled her nose.

“I’ve been working on taking off the new layer of paint and now the signature of the artist is visible. He was a much sought-after painter in 17th century France.”

“Let’s search it,” Sarah perked up. “Maybe this painting is worth a lot of money!”

“I’ll boot up the computer, but first, I’m going to call the locksmith. While the computer is warming up, we’ll eat the croissants Mr. Jones brought.” Danielle decided and covered the painting.

“Your ancient computer takes forever. You have to get a new one.”

“I know.” Danielle sighed. “I never had the money for it, but after the surge of customers, now I do.”

The locksmith said he’ll stop by before lunch and by the time the women finished breakfast, the ancient computer was ready for search. Danielle Googled the name of the artist and her jaw dropped when she clicked on the first website which popped up on her screen.

Sarah peeked over Danielle’s shoulder. “What? No way!” she shrieked and read the headline out loud. “The portrait of a noblewoman of the famous 17th century artist was sold to a well know American art collector for ten million dollars.”

Danielle, not believing her eyes, backspaced and clicked on the next link. It was the auction website where the price of the painting was confirmed. She kept searching and found fifteen more paintings from the same artist that had been sold for similar amounts in the past ten years. “I have to tell Mrs. Van Bramer about this. She gave me the painting not knowing the possible value of it.”

“Wait a minute!” Sarah exclaimed. “What if that so-called expert knew the value of the painting and lied to Mrs. Van Bramer? I think he broke into the store. And what if she wants the painting back after she finds out how much it’s worth?”

“I’ll give it back to her, of course. She bought the house and found the painting in the hidden room; it belongs to her.”

“Nah-uh!” Sarah announced. “That’s not right. It belongs to the Couture family. I bet the old lady didn’t tell her relatives about the hidden room.”

“Or, maybe she didn’t even know about it. But you’re right; it had to be a member of the family who hid the painting in the secret room. It belongs to them. I’m going to finish cleaning the signature part to be sure, and then I’ll call Mrs. Van Bramer.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sarah decided. “I’m gonna go home to change but I’ll come back around one o’clock to bring you lunch.”

CONTINUE READING


Erika M Szabo

https://authorerikamszabo.com

Erika loves to dance to her own tunes and follow her dreams, introducing her story-writing skills and her books that are based on creative imagination with themes such as magical realism, alternate history, urban fantasy, cozy mystery, sweet romance, and supernatural stories. Her children’s stories are informative and educational and deliver moral values in a non-preachy way.

Sunday, February 2, 2025

Book Sunday #stories4you from #OurAuthorGang

 Today we recommend

A YA adventure by Lorraine Carey


Dean Banks returns in Out of the Ashes, the thrilling sequel to Mysteries of the Red Coyote Inn. This Young Adult Paranormal Novel takes readers deeper into the heart of danger and mystery.

The stakes at Red Coyote Inn have never been higher. Strange events spiral out of control as Dean shoulders a monumental mission: protecting the fabled Lost Dutchman Mine and its sacred grounds from ruthless thieves, treacherous allies, and shadowy government experiments. As if that weren’t enough, his girlfriend’s mysterious illness pulls at his heart and resolve.

But Dean’s journey isn’t just physical—it’s spiritual. To uncover the truth and save everything he holds dear, he must embark on a perilous Vision Quest, where the answers he seeks could either empower him… or destroy him.

Will Dean rise from the ashes, or will the weight of the unknown bury him? The adventure awaits.

Read a sample chapter from the book: 

Chapter 7: A Dark Discovery

Dean followed the hawk deeper into the cave and flicked on his flashlight. He could still smell the lingering stench of the Gila. As he shined his flashlight along the walls of the cave, he could see deep grooves where a gold vein had been extracted. Faint luminous glows were emitted from the walls, and the ground had some fragments that had been left behind. He picked up one of them; never having seen this type of gold before. It had a whitish cast to it and set off a weird neon glow. He stuck a piece of it in his pocket and carried on the path with his hawk buddy flying ahead, signaling him to move on.

Dean entered another tunnel and walked for about half a mile. He felt overheated, so decided to sit down and drink some water. “Ah, I needed that!” His friend circled up ahead as if waiting for him and also added protection. Dean held his talisman in his hands as he felt it vibrate. He sensed he was getting a message from spirit as he was in for an unexpected encounter.

As he followed the hawk, he found himself at a dead end with a strange doorway off to the left. It was a large iron door, medieval-style with heavy black bars and laden with black iron bolts.

“Okay, now what? I’m supposed to know some magic words to open them?”

He noticed the hawk circle his head three times and with a whoosh, it was gone. Dean sat down to make some sense out of this. Let me think, I‘ve been cornered by a giant Gila, am aware of pillaging for gold, and have not shifted? What gives, Elders?

He sensed a cool breeze coming from behind him. He turned around and noticed a white glowing apparition, one that he was all too familiar with.

Soon the lady in white materialized. He knew who she was – Aponi, dressed in her usual white flowing dress, the sheer veil covering her face. The breeze again caused the beads and shells that dangled from her dress to clink and tingle, like windchimes.

“Hello, Dean,” she murmured. “I’ve come to warn you that evil is upon you. I’m sure you’ve sensed that yourself. Be on guard, for you will find your enemies are very close now. Remember, all is not what it seems.” Her image faded and then vanished.

“Wait! Don’t go!” Dean called out, but it was too late.

Dean stood up and felt his body overheating again. He could feel the blood course through his veins, making them bulge. He watched the ones in his arms become so defined he resembled the transparent human body models they used in his science class. Soon he could see the muscles in his arms triple in size as they inflated and ripped through his t-shirt. “What the heck? Now I’m the Hulk!”

Soon his head was overcome with great knowledge. The imprinted mark on his chest burned red, and he was filled with the desire to bust through the iron doors.

With two tries, he managed to rip a gaping hole in the iron door large enough to crawl through. As he reached the other side, he was shocked at what he saw. There were vaults built into the side of the walls with plaques labeled with hieroglyphics that he didn’t understand. In the middle of the room was what looked to be a medical operating table, hooked up to an IV machine with bags of fluid in them. Behind it were more medical equipment and a few computers that were shut down. As he stood there for a moment, he could feel his heart race and his back start to throb. I’m going to shift again soon. I’ve got to hurry and finish exploring this room. As bad as he felt, he walked over to the corner of the room where he found glass vials labeled ‘atomic gold’. They were stacked neatly in steel crates. Some vials were as small as test tubes; others were as big as beakers. He remembered seeing this in his chemistry class. He placed one of the smaller vials in his pocket. What on earth is going on here?

Soon Dean felt the rush of blood to his head. He became very dizzy and fell to the floor. He could feel the strange electrical field surrounding his body. It crackled and smelled of burning wires. His body shook and he could feel his legs elongate and the skin stretch out as each toe was peeled back to release a giant talon. His back split open as if someone had slit him with a knife from his neck to his waist. Huge wings jutted out and he could see their size was double than they had been before. A loud screeching was all that was heard from the cave before Dean flew out, into the dark Arizona sky.


Lorraine Carey

https://authorlorrainecarey.blogspot.com/

Lorraine Carey is a reading specialist and an Award-Winning Author. She was living in California until fate whisked her off to Grand Cayman. She currently lives in Florida. Her love for paranormal stories began at a young age, and is no stranger to the paranormal, having encountered unexplainable events that are woven into her stories.

Sunday, November 3, 2024

Book Sunday

 Enjoy our featured books



In online bookstores, readers often discover new books by browsing the bestselling titles in their desired genre. However, countless hidden gems may not receive as much promotion but offer incredible stories that deserve recognition and readership.

Time travel romance



Embark on a journey through time with Dylan Anderson, the lead guitarist of Ablaze, as he strives to recreate the magic of the '70s, inspired by Kenny Chesney's iconic hit, "I Go Back." In his pursuit of reliving his golden days, Dylan becomes entangled in the hidden world of a mysterious cult, eager to uncover the secrets of time travel.
The stakes are high, and the risks even higher – challenges he's prepared to confront head-on.
This adventure is far from a solo act. With his enduring love, Jennifer Kovich, by his side, Dylan is determined to bring her along on this journey whether she's ready or not. However, there's a catch – The dark spell Dylan has created will not allow him to return to the present even if he ever wanted to. Only Jennifer would have a chance at finding an escape route back home, but according to Dylan, it's almost impossible. Or is it? Brace yourself for a tale of love, danger, and the irresistible pull of a past era as Dylan leads us on an unforgettable voyage to the heart of the '70s.

Review by Readers Favorite
"Lorraine Carey uses an intoxicating brew of romance and mystery with a tinge of the paranormal to take you on a captivating time travel adventure odyssey you don't want to end. With an absorbing narrative, Carey captures the vibe and atmosphere of the 1970s flawlessly, offering readers a chance to immerse themselves in the golden era of rock and roll. The characters are not only well-developed but also very likable for the most part. While Jennifer's interactions with Dylan are entertaining, I also enjoyed her friendship with Paul. The plot has its share of surprises to keep readers hooked. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and heartily recommend it to romance lovers who don't mind dipping their toes into the paranormal genre."

Sci-fi space opera


Kathy Masters never expected to journey to the stars. When she does, she experiences the adventure of a lifetime.
That all changes when she is selected by the prestigious Galactic Geographic Society to photograph and record the flora and fauna of a newly discovered class M planet. Filled with hope and enthusiasm, she boards the S.S. America for the trip to Beta 3 Epsilon to begin her new project. On the way she is abducted and brought aboard the privateer Rapier.
Going from captive, to slave, to induction into the infamous Brotherhood, Kathy finds herself raising the adopted daughter of the crew of the Rapier. Given the responsibility to raise their princess, Cindy, they travel among the stars preying on merchant ships, dodging Chinese warships, fighting pirates, visiting strange worlds, and encountering fantastic creatures, all under the watchful eyes of Commodore James Ulysses Black. Trying to raise a young girl among gunfights, swordfights, ship-to-ship battles, slave trades, deals, and some of the most feared raiders in human space is no small challenge.
The only question is, Is Kathy up to the task?

Review by Travis B
"The face-paced, in-the-present style of writing always keeps the story moving along at light speed. But after each jump to or from hyperspace anything can happen and does. Swimming with whales living in nebulae of thick, colorful gases. Horse-sized wolves and never-before-seen natives and underwater adventures to meet the almighty, giving ones: bioengineering “gifts” with omnipotent capabilities. And sword-fights, blazingly fast strokes of the gleaming steel, bellies bursting, men keeling over."

Ghost suspense thriller


A powerful curse cast thousands of years ago by the Grand Vizier. Tanakhmet cursed Prince Akhmose to never enter the Field of Reeds, the heavenly paradise. Why did he want him to linger as a restless ghost among the living, forever?
By reading the hieroglyphs, Layla, a young Egyptologist, inadvertently breaks the curse and frees the ghosts of both Prince Akhmose and the Grand Vizier whose thirst for revenge is stronger than ever.
With Layla’s help, can Prince Akhmose finally cross into the afterlife?
Or perhaps, because of the charms of the mortal woman, he doesn’t want to…

Review by Termite Writer
"I’m always attracted to stories with archaeological subjects and this story deals with ancient Egypt and its curses, mummies, and ghosts. Through the machinations of the Pharoah’s evil Grand Vizier, Prince Akhmose is murdered and his soul is sent into the future, while his lover’s soul is also reincarnated in a modern woman who happens to be an Egyptologist. Her skeptical roommate Mara adds some enjoyable humor to the tale."

Gothic romance


Fernal Thorn always suspected her family had secrets.
But she has no idea how dark and dangerous these secrets are until a mysterious man, his horde of followers, and a powerful demon invade her forest home. Badly beaten and alone, she is rescued by an aloof high-born stranger who takes her to his family’s ancient estate in Cumbria.
There she finds allies and enemies with secrets of their own. Captivated by her alluring yet reclusive rescuer, Fernal is torn between vengeance and love, and she must find a way to defeat the evil that has plagued her family for centuries—or die on the next solstice.
Deeply compelling and seductive, Eternity Awaits is a richly textured story that will dwell within you long after the last pages are read.

Review by aerowell
"Intriguing story that has something for everyone: mystery, suspense, romance and the supernatural. The characters had flaws and insecurities with which we can all relate. Eternity Awaits is an entertaining page-turner with unexpected twists. "



Sunday, October 20, 2024

Book Sunday

 Enjoy Our Featured Books



 


 


 


Paranormal suspense

Lauren has everything she’d ever wished for. Great career, financial security, loving husband, and devoted friends. When her Raven spirit guide warns her of impending danger, she takes the omen seriously, but she doesn’t have enough time to perform the protection spell her grandmother taught her.
Someone breaks into her office and after the brutal attack and the Raven’s repeated warnings, she knows her life is in danger.
Who wants her dead and why?

Sci-fi space opera

Kathy Masters never expected to journey to the stars. When she does, she experiences the adventure of a lifetime.
That all changes when she is selected by the prestigious Galactic Geographic Society to photograph and record the flora and fauna of a newly discovered class M planet. Filled with hope and enthusiasm, she boards the S.S. America for the trip to Beta 3 Epsilon to begin her new project. On the way she is abducted and brought aboard the privateer Rapier.
Going from captive, to slave, to induction into the infamous Brotherhood, Kathy finds herself raising the adopted daughter of the crew of the Rapier. Given the responsibility to raise their princess, Cindy, they travel among the stars preying on merchant ships, dodging Chinese warships, fighting pirates, visiting strange worlds, and encountering fantastic creatures, all under the watchful eyes of Commodore James Ulysses Black. Trying to raise a young girl among gunfights, swordfights, ship-to-ship battles, slave trades, deals, and some of the most feared raiders in human space is no small challenge.
The only question is, Is Kathy up to the task?

Sci-fi galactic empire

The Sinistrati are fierce warrior-sorcerers who seek to expand their control over the galaxy. The Archontate, an assembly of the seven fiercest Sinistrati rule for the enigmatic King Megadrian.
Archon Regent Ryon Tacitus serves as the liaison between the Archontate and the king. As the most powerful member of the seven, his house has no shortage of dark secrets and enemies.
Ryon’s son, Ares Tacitus, the last born of House Tacitus, loses everything the day he is born.
Servants Mira and Eisen are the only other survivors of an enemy attack against House Tacitus and flee with the newborn, Ares.
After a tragic encounter with Archon Ryon Tacitus, Mira makes a promise to find Taro Wyn, a being with immense power who will guide the boy in reclaiming his birthright.
Mira flees Kendosa with Ares and builds a life on far away Acama, working for an archeological dig.
Years pass in the ‘Tent City,’ and with the hardships, they enjoy a few small pleasures until the truth of the boy’s Sinistrati heritage catches the attention of the dig’s foreman as the enemies of House Tacitus close in. Ares becomes the key player in a deadly game that could make or break his future.