Love Has No Limits by Armine Papouchian

 Please welcome Armine Papouchian author of Love Has No Limits

Armine Papouchian will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

Love Has No Limits

by Armine Papouchian

 

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GENRE: Self-help / spiritual

 

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BLURB:

 

At sixteen, Armine fell in love for the first time and lost that love for the first time. She was the youngest daughter of three in Armenia and the only one underage when her parents decided to immigrate to the United States. She had to go with and leave her beloved Alex behind. Her parents saw a land of opportunity while Armine saw heartbreak. It wasn’t the end of her story with Alex and certainly not the end of her life,as it had felt at the time, but there was more pain to follow. Sixteen-year-olds are resilient, but even when losses and hurt came calling repeatedly throughout Armine’s life, she had the strength to love and to rise again and again. Even as life moves on for Armine and Alex, their lives intersect again and again over the course of thirty years. Through deaths and divorces, their lives never quite line up from their opposite sides of the globe. Love Has No Limits is Armine’s story of keeping faith in oneself and in love despite heartbreak, betrayal, and loss. It reveals the joy available to those who rise and rise again.

 

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EXCERPT:

 

While drinking a glass of red wine, I watched the blazing fire roll down the hill. I got the second emergency alert call to evacuate immediately. I couldn’t believe this was happening again. Last time this happened my son still lived at home, my parents lived with us, and Peaches, our sweet dog was still alive. Back then, I had to get everyone organized, packed, and ready to evacuate. Back then, I’d been more nervous, concerned about my aging parents, my teenage son and our dog, who could sense the tension and had anxiously paced back and forth with her tongue hanging out. This time, it was just me. I thought about what I should take with me. After all, I had already lost so much in life, yet at the same time, I felt I was blessed with all that I still had. After all, my parents had moved me halfway around the world when I was a teenager, leaving my love behind. I had grieved losing two husbands by the time I was 50, another husband in between who betrayed me at my most vulnerable moment, and I’d struggled with my father’s cancer, which ended in suicide. Just as I was catching my breath, I had to put my dog to sleep followed by my mother’s long-term illness and her painful 1 death. At the same time, I was so grateful for all I had. I was so happy that I was not angry and resentful. I was not bitter; I was content. I had love again, and I was stronger than ever before. I was still standing. As I packed a change of clothes, my laptop, few photo albums that my son requested and my small metal safe deposit box with important documents, I reflected on how little all our possessions really matter to us. As I was packing the albums, the memories started to come back, old wounds flared up and I started to feel the pain and the deep sadness. I ached for my son who had lost his father at age ten. I felt lonely; I missed the people I had in my life that I’d loved and lost. I missed all they brought to my life. At times, I could not believe I had survived all that had happened in my life in such a short time. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I realized the effects those pictures had on me and why I did not even want to take those albums with me. I had the memories in my heart and that’s all I could ever have, the rest of my life. I realized that’s why I no longer made photo albums. I realized how simplistic life had become for me. I did not need much. I cherished the moments I was with the people I loved and that is all I ever needed.

 

 

 

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

 

Arminé was born in Soviet Armenia and immigrated to United States with her parents when she was 17.  She worked in the health care industry for 33 years and held key leadership roles in various health plans. Most recently, she retired from a senior executive position to pursue service and paying forward.  

 

She is currently involved in various volunteer roles. In her free time, she enjoys reading, hiking, gardening, art museums, concerts, dancing, and spending time with family and friends. 

 

Love Has No Limits is her first book. 

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56512392-love-has-no-limits

Buy Link:: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08RJ6152L/ref=x_gr_w_bb_sin

 

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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE

 

Armine Papouchian will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

 

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f3648

#COLD #YA #Fantasy

 

Title: Cold

Author: Courtney Rene

Genre: YA/Fantasy/Action and Adventure

Book Heat Level: 3

Price: 3.99

 

Buy at: Amazon, Barnes and Noble

 

Read first chapter

 

TAGLINE

 

Four extraordinary teens meet, each with a corrupted gift from one of the four elements: Water, Earth, Wind, and Fire. Why were they created? Who is chasing them? And, what do they want?

 

BLURB: Cold

 

Four extraordinary teens, each with a corrupted gift from one of the four elements: Water, Earth, Wind, and Fire, come together to face a common threat. Their creators, scientists of a genetic engineering company, have been hunting for them since they were children. Each alone and on the run for years, they inexplicably find one another and decide not to hide any longer. Before they can face their creators, they have to learn to trust one another as well as who they are and what they can do.

Cold, is Nora’s story. Water is destructive all by itself but turn water to ice and it can become even more deadly, especially in the hands of an angry young woman out to right a wrong.

 

 

EXCERPT: Cold

 

“Start at what your gift does,” Eve said. “Show us something wonderful. We could use wonderful.”

I looked from Eve over to the little pond. Something wonderful, that I could do.

I stepped over to the pond, in a small open space between all the cattails. I squatted down by the edge of the water and lightly touched the surface. At the same time, I both breathed in and pushed out through my fingers the ice from within my body. The water under my fingertips froze. Then the cold ice spread and circled around, forming the shape of a snowflake. I pushed a bit harder, then another formed, and another, all interlocking and creating a blanket of giant frost snowflakes along the surface of the pond until the entire pond was covered in them.

I smiled lightly, proud of my creation, as I stood and turned to face the others.

Eve had her hands clasped together in front of her mouth. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the pond.

Ash smiled, and Reed gave me a sort of half-nod then winked at me.

Eve finally couldn’t contain her excitement one second more and she gushed, “Oh, it’s beautiful. I can’t believe it.” She half-ran and half-skipped closer to the pond. “How long will it last?”

I shrugged. “The water is pretty warm. I doubt it will last very long at all.” Even as I said the words I could see the center of the snowflake blanket darkening as it melted.

Eve spun around and said, “What else can you do?”

“If it’s ice or cold I can do it,” I said a bit sheepishly. I wasn’t bragging, but it felt a bit like it. Too much attention was on me and I didn’t really like it.

“Like what?”

I indicated Reed and said, “I made him an ice marble when we met.”

“That was pretty cool,” he said.

“Do one for me!” Eve demanded, but the demand was sweet as she was almost childlike in her eagerness.

I didn’t hesitate a moment. I closed my hand into a fist, pulled forward the ice into my palm, and, a moment later, handed Eve a one-inch in diameter perfectly smooth and round ball of ice.

She took it into her hand and inspected it like it was the finest gift she’d ever received.

“You have the coolest gift!” she said.

“I don’t know about that,” I replied. “It has its drawbacks, like all the rest.”

That got everyone’s attention.

“Like what?” Reed asked.

“I need to sit,” I said, and dropped to the ground right where I’d stood and sat tailor fashion.

The others joined me right away and sat back to listen to my story.

“That’s one of them. My gift seems to take a lot of energy away from me.”

“Why?” Eve asked.

“Actually, let’s start further back,” I said. “I’m getting a little ahead of myself.” I thought over my short life and where I should begin. “I guess the best place to start is my gift didn’t come all of a sudden. It was more of a slowly blossoming flower. I could make it snow early. My mom was always afraid of it. What would people think? That sort of thing. I scared her. My gift wasn’t harsh or scary, but I was different and that scared her. When the company came for me, it wasn’t an easy time. I closed in on myself and refused to cooperate. I refused to use my gift. They found ways to get it out of me all the same. All they had to do was get my emotions out of control and out it would come every time.”

 

 

SOCIAL LIINKS

 

Website: http://www.courtneyrene.com/

 

Blog: http://ctnyrene.blogspot.com/

 

Facebook page:  https://www.facebook.com/Shadow-Dancer-and-more-by-Courtney-Rene-164433473646449/

 

Twitter: ctnyrene

 

Murder with Strings Attached by Mark Reutlinger

 Please welcome Mark Reutlinger author of Murder with Strings Attached

Mark Reutlinger will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

Murder with Strings Attached

by Mark Reutlinger

 

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GENRE: Suspense/Mystery (crime caper/humorous fiction)

 

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BLURB:

 

Sometimes even the most carefully conceived burglary can take an unexpected turn. Florence Palmer has her eye on concert violinist Aaron Levy's priceless violin. Unfortunately, she finds it's already been stolen. Her surprise doubles when the virtuoso she'd planned to burgle offers to hire her to help him steal it back. But they're not the only ones looking for the missing violin. When Flo inadvertently becomes the prime suspect in a case of murder, she and Aaron need to clear her name. Will they find the real killer and get the violin back to its rightful owner without anyone else, especially themselves, being killed?

 

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EXCERPT:

 

Passing the front desk on my way to the elevator, I wanted to avoid eye contact with any of the clerks on duty. But, like Lot’s wife, I couldn’t resist just a peek. Unfortunately, one of the check-in clerks, an older woman with gray hair pulled back into a tight bun, happened to be looking in my direction and our eyes met.

 

The woman immediately called to me, “Miss, would you please step over here?”

 

I returned a mimed “Who, me?” gesture. The bun lady nodded in the affirmative.

 

Damn, that’s all I need, I berated myself. I just had to look, didn’t I? But I knew I now had no choice but to comply. I walked over slowly as I tried frantically to think of answers, having no idea what the questions might be. Would I be asked who I was and what I was doing here? If so, would my answers be credible? When I reached the desk I tried to act nonchalant.

 

“Yes, ma’am?”

 

The bun lady said, “Just a moment, please,” and reached under the desk. 

 

Totally irrationally it flashed through my mind that the woman was going to pull out a pistol and place me under arrest. Good thing I’d just peed, or I’d probably have done it now. It’s amazing what tricks a guilty conscience can play on you. What she actually pulled out, however, was a stack of letters. She handed them to me and, motioning toward a mail box mounted on the far wall, said, “Would you be a dear and drop these in the box over there?”

 

I accepted the letters and the assignment with relief. “Certainly, ma’am. No problem.”

 

I marched directly over to the mail box and deposited the letters. I then continued on my way to the service elevator, this time resisting any urge to look anywhere but straight ahead.

 

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

 

MARK REUTLINGER is an attorney and former law professor. He now writes novels in which the law is frequently broken, including his “Mrs. Kaplan” cozy mystery series (MRS. KAPLAN AND THE MATZOH BALL OF DEATH and A PAIN IN THE TUCHIS) and the political thrillers MADE IN CHINA and SISTER-IN-LAW: VIOLATION, SEDUCTION, AND THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES (under the pen name M. R. Morgan). MURDER WITH STRINGS ATTACHED is his latest novel. He is also a reviewer for the New York Journal of Books.

 

Mark and his wife Analee live in University Place, Washington, where in addition to reading and writing he plays clarinet with the Tacoma Concert Band and enjoys tennis, biking, exotic cars, model railroading, and various arts and crafts. He has no idea where he finds the time for it all.

 

Visit Mark at MarkReutlinger.com and MRMorganAuthor.com.

 

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/markreutlinger

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1192934.Mark_Reutlinger

 

Find MURDER WITH STRINGS ATTACHED at:

 

https://www.amazon.com/Murder-Strings-Attached-Mark-Reutlinger/dp/1509233210/ref=sr_1_1

 

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/murder-with-strings-attached-mark-reutlinger/1138134761

 

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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE

 

Mark Reutlinger will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

 

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f3620

#EditingByAngels

Editing by Angels

Rogue’s Angels would like to help make the publishing process a little bit easier. We offer editing, proofreading, and covers at a reasonable price. 

Rogues Angels have years of editing experience, starting in the 90’s. Please check out resumes at the Rogue’s Angels blog: http://roguesangels.blogspot.com

Editing plus proofreading rates are:

$150 for under 50K words

$250 for 50K to 100K words

$350 for over 100K words.

Covers price varies. Once a cover is used it will not be used again. Check out pre-made covers at:

http://www.designsbymsg.com/SpreeSpecials.html and http://www.designsbymsg.com/FastTrackForSale.html

For more information contact Christine Young ~ achristay@aol.com

AVAILABLE  COVERS:

 

#ChristmasPaws #Fantasy #humor

 

Title: Christmas Pawsibilities

Author: Genie Gabriel

Genre: Fantasy/HUMOR

Book Heat Level: 1

 

Buy at: Amazon, 

 

Read first chapter

 

TAGLINE

 

The dogizens of Planet Candid crash land on Earth in the midst of Aunt Maddie’s zany family planning a Christmas wedding.

 

BLURB: Christmas Pawsabilities 

 

With their world destroyed and their space ship malfunctioning, the dogizens of Planet Canid have little choice but to crash land on Earth--in the midst of Aunt Maddie's zany family planning the Christmas wedding of Ryan and elfenchaun, Dori. Under cover of a Nertz tournament staged by the Blue-Haired Ladies, the family hides the royal dogizens from a dastardly plan to use them for tortuous experiments by the evil commander of the Geeks in Green.

 

 

EXCERPT: Christmas Pawsabilities

 

“So where is this alien craft?”

Fletcher had never completely trusted Commander Viktor Atrocitor. Since he had taken command of GIG two years ago, the atmosphere at the agency had become cold and suspicious, like the man himself. He seemed carved from six and a half feet of granite, blocky and scowling.

“It has disappeared.” Fletcher knew this statement would draw Atrocitor’s ire and disdain, but what was the use of denying the obvious?

“Fool! Can you do nothing right?” Atrocitor turned to the GIG agents waiting at a wary distance. “Search the neighborhood. Someone must have seen something or is hiding them.”

While Atrocitor berated Fletcher, other GIG agents spread throughout the neighborhood, offending pretty much everyone by demanding they stay in their houses while their property was overrun and searched.

After two hours of fruitless searching, Commander Atrocitor called a halt. “If you want to save your career and this town, you will bring me these aliens within twenty-four hours.”

As Fletcher watched the caravan of GIG vehicles disappear down the road out of Watermark, he felt like a six-year-old kid again. Bullied and humiliated for his belief that beings from distant galaxies simply wanted to explore and build alliances. They weren’t like aliens in movies who wanted to destroy humanity.

That’s why Fletcher started working at Geeks in Green. He thought he found other humans like himself who believed alliances with aliens could benefit everyone. Now he was starting to believe the rumors about Commander Atrocitor being heartless and determined to eliminate aliens were true. How could he know for sure?

His thoughts were interrupted when Agnes staggered out the back door toward the barn. “Who’s disturbing my goats?”

With her hair disheveled and her clothes askew, she did indeed look as if she had spent a raucous night of partying—the after-effects of being zapped by a ray gun.

Laycee and Fletcher followed Agnes into the barn, where the spacecraft was once again visible. Now the hatch was open, with guards standing on either side pointing ray guns at Agnes, Laycee and Fletcher.

“Holy extraterrestrial!”

With a sizzle of purple, one of the alien guards fired his gun and Fletcher crumpled to the ground.

“Why did you do that?” Ryan hustled out of the spacecraft.

“He is of GIG,” one of the guards stated. “He is a danger to our Queen.”

“Is he dead?” Ryan knelt over Fletcher’s inert body.

“Simply stunned. We will revive him when the danger to our Queen is gone.” The two guards loaded Fletcher onto a transport board, which levitated and moved inside the spacecraft.

“Your mouth isn’t moving but I can hear your words.” Laycee’s shocked whisper matched the stunned expression in her eyes.

“Our Canine Queen is birthing and is not to be disturbed.” This time the alien’s mouth moved as he spoke, and he looked like any other human except for a twinkle of star light in his eyes. “Weren’t you getting milk for the royal puppies?”

“Yes.” Ryan refocused his attention on this task, determined to ignore Laycee’s presence. What was she doing here anyway? “Agnes, do you have milk from your goats?”

“My goats don’t much like to be milked.”

“Surely it can’t be that difficult,” Ryan said.

Agnes lifted an eyebrow. “You’re welcome to try. I’ll get a clean bucket.”

Determined to get milk for the Queen’s puppies, Ryan began stalking one of the goats.

“I think it should be a female,” Laycee said.

Ryan felt like a first grader again. “I knew that.”

Laycee coughed behind her hand to cover her laughter. “There’s a girl goat on top of the space ship.”

Ryan looked up the curved, smooth surface. “Maybe there’s another girl somewhere easier to reach.”

He stepped around the space ship and over the boards broken when the craft crashed through the roof. “There’s a girl! Help me get her into a stall.”

“Um-kay.”

While Ryan circled around the nanny goat one way, Laycee closed in on her from the other side. The little goat narrowed her eyes at the humans and, when they were within a couple feet of her, she let out a bleat and ran between Ryan’s legs. Startled, he stumbled and dropped to one knee.

“Watch out!” Laycee’s shout made Ryan turn in time to see an irritated male goat charging toward him.

 

 

 

Website URL: www.GenieGabriel.com

 

Blog URL:http://quantumcanines.blogspot.com

 

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/genene.valleau

 

 

 

My Rite of Passage During the Summer of ‘76 by H. Downing Lane

 Please welcome H. Downing Lane  author of My Rite of Passage During the Summer of ‘76

H. Downing Lane will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

My Rite of Passage During the Summer of ‘76

by H. Downing Lane  

 

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GENRE: Memoir

 

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BLURB:

 

MY RITE OF PASSAGE DURING THE SUMMER OF ’76 is a riveting coming-of-age memoir about adventure on the high seas with philosophical musings that add a resonant layer of depth.

 

In this memoir, H. Downing Lane recalls the 25-day transatlantic sailing trip he took in 1976 as a young man, the details of the journey around Iceland, the Faroe Islands, and other locales, and reflects on its significance as a coming-of-age learning experience.

 

H. Downing Lane was 26 years old in 1976 when he decided to sign up for a transatlantic sailing trip into the Arctic with an accomplished captain named E. Newbold Smith. In this vivid, often exhilarating memoir, Lane draws from journal entries written during his time at sea to share an account of the remarkable voyage.

 

The Atlantic crossing was a 25-day affair, from Chesapeake Bay, around Iceland, the Faroe Islands, and the coast of Norway. It was undertaken at a point in Lane’s life when he was feeling particularly vulnerable, as he was recovering from an accident in which he had lost an eye. He wished to “prove [his] mettle,” not to the other men aboard the boat, but to himself. As it turned out, Captain Smith was something of a kindred spirit, as he too had survived a devastating accident many years earlier. Lane provides the reader with a realistic vision of what life aboard a sailing vessel is like, from the often freezing temperatures above and below deck, to the many challenges presented by simple bodily necessities. He describes various technical aspects of working on the boat, but his language never devolves into jargon; his account is always perfectly clear and accessible.

 

Lane seasons the text with literary and philosophical quotes that frequently allow him to consider the greater meaning of his experience, and even of life itself. There are also numerous stunning photographs included of the boat and the various stops along the way.

 

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EXCERPTS:

 

 

For a time during the third gale no one manned our deck. No one was steering Reindeer. No one was on watch. No one was navigating.  No one was cooking. No one during that seven hours stretch could see an approaching iceberg, ship, log or shore. As far as we knew there weren’t any. Ignoring all floating obstacles in our path and trusting we sailed towards our destination, we sailed sideways 50 miles. With all navigational instruments turned off. No Lorraine. No radar or radio. No ship or shore. No warning if we hit something. This night was like no other. No one was steering. We had lashed our wheel to one side. We had trimmed our sails accordingly. We were hove-to.

 

We had our companionway closed and locked. All hatches were shut tight.  We had sealed ourselves off from the gale roaring outside. We were sailing blind without any lookout.  Not that we could see anything as it was.  We not only trusted our Reindeer to take us northeastward, but we also had to trust a night watch without one. After almost a week of rough weather, Newbold decided sleep was most vital to our voyage. We had sighted nothing since our departure from St. John, Newfoundland. He said he could sense our exhaustion and he knew we could make mistakes if we were too tired. So rather be concerned about something that did not exist on our radar or within sight, he chose to send all of us to our soggy bunks. I remember feeling the odd sensation of sailing without any control. Maybe it kept me a wake for a minute or two. When I considered a hove-to I suddenly turned religious. This godsend message became a gift from above.  No one questioned its wisdom. All were too tired to realize what it meant. All were too stunned to do anything but be obedient and dutiful. Within moments after the aftershock of this announcement, all eight of us lay horizontal. Too chilled and disoriented we all followed orders with barely an utterance. We all were soon sleeping soundly. Likely dreaming while holding on to bunk with hope. With the stale stench of seasickness trapped below, we all rested in our sleeping bag cocoons. 

 

Before he got any shuteye, our weather radio reported icebergs south of us, but we never saw or dodged any during our 10 days sailing from Newfoundland to Iceland. We also never had dodged the weather, wind or waves, We were, however, unable to dodge exhaustion.  Ironies floated around us all the time. Here we were sailing blindly towards a destination we could not see except in the daytime. Of course, there was no difference in light, as the storms did not abate in those 9 days. Overcast skies, I could barely notice the difference in gales. All seemed like one big storm to me. The wind came and went, but the only differences were velocity and size of waves. The waves only seemed to grow with the intense gusts.

 

 

 

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

 

H. Downing Lane is a retired educator, tutoring business owner, English teacher, coach and administrator who sails in his spare time. Presently he is writing a series of books that chronicle his sailing adventures.

 

Born and raised on the eastern shore of Maryland, he has returned home after 40 years to write. Henry taught sailing for eight years on Long Island Sound and sailed competitively on the Chesapeake Bay, crewed transatlantic to Iceland and Norway, been a crew member of a number of Annapolis – Newport and Newport – Bermuda races and sailed much of the Caribbean and Bahamas.

 

In 1978, he sailed the SORC around Florida.  In 2008, he purchased Mystique, a 40′ leopard catamaran, and in 2013, he sailed it to Santo Domingo, the Turks and Cacaos and eventually to Florida.

 

In 2016, he sailed solo for 51 days through the Exumas. On another adventure he and Lainie Wrightson had a calamitous time together – losing both rudders – the basis of his second book, Bluewater Mystique. 

 

He has chartered boats to sail the Dalmatian Coast, Belize, Abacos, Eleuthera and the Maine coast. While maintaining his blog www.bluewatermystique.com, he has written numerous blogs about life and sailing.

 

He is a dedicated learner and loves sharing his experiences and stories.

 

Social Links

 

Website https://hdowninglane.com/

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/HenryDLane

Twitter https://twitter.com/hlane4200

 

Buy Links

Amazon https://amazon.com/dp/0228813638

Indigo https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/my-rite-of-passage-during/9780228813651-item.html

Barnes & Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/my-rite-of-passage-during-the-summer-of-76-h-downing-lane/1136878784;jsessionid=95301DEE645C56E3F36E9185A65C64A5.prodny_store01-va02

Kobo https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/my-rite-of-passage-during-the-summer-of-76

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1015994

 

 

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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE

 

H. Downing Lane will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

 

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f3641

#Christel'sSunrise #HistoricalRomance

 

Title: Christel's Sunrise

Author: Christine Young

Email: achristay@aol.com

Genre: Historical Romance/Paranormal

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 4

 

Buy at: Amazon; 

 

BLURB: Christel's Sunrise

 

He Made Her An Offer...

 

Life has thrown Christel McClellan some experiences that could have devastated a less determined woman. Beautiful, self-assured and fiercely independent, she is trying to forget the loss of her stillborn child. But is the child alive?

 

She Couldn’t Deny...

 

Life is carefree for Ryder MacLaren who loves to see what is on the other side of the sunrise. Laird of Clan MacLaren, he is wealthy, handsome and happily unencumbered...until stunning Christel McClellan enters his life. When he hears her story, he believes the child she thought dead has been sold to a wealthy buyer.

 

REVIEW: Christel's Sunrise

 

Highland Sunrise by Christine Young
Publisher: Rogue Phoenix Press
Genre: Historical
Length: Full Length (174 pgs)
Heat Level: Spicy
Rated: 4 Stars
Reviewed by Dandelion

 

I loved the rapport between the two main characters. Although at times they both struggled to find the right words to explain their feelings for each other, somehow they managed. They both loved the other and so over time it became easier. Both were also very independent and that caused a little friction between them. However, Ryder would typically just shake his head and go with the flow. There were a huge number of sex scenes, and I think this story would have stood alone quite well without so many (there were times they did nothing to forward the plot, but seemed added just to have a sex scene), but they didn’t detract from the plot either.

 

There were so many other fascinating and fun characters in the story: her sister, her cousins, their husbands, her aunt, the Duchess. Reading about all the things they attempted and succeeded in doing was really fun. They were not the typical regency “tonnish” people of the days. This made this story much more fun.

 

And of course, although there was a lot of fighting, terror, murder and mayhem, the story has a very satisfying ending.

 

 

EXCERPT: Christel's Sunrise

 

But Christel pushed away from him and pointing, "There, do you see her. She is sitting on the wall."

Ryder strained to see the apparition Christel pointed toward but he saw nothing. "No, but I think I hear her."

"Yes, she is crying, not weeping as usual. Do you know anything about her story?" Christel turned to him, hope shining in her soft blue eyes.

"I've heard her lover died. But that was a long time ago."

"How?"

Ryder pulled her back into his embrace, not ever wanting her to leave. He would hold fast to her for as long as she would allow him. "At war... I don't recall which one. The clans seem to have always been at war with someone, especially the English."

He felt the nod of her head against his chest. "Does anyone know the legend? I would seek them out."

Her breathing was slow and she seemed relaxed. But Ryder feared for her. If she started asking questions, would this ghost come to harm her? He didn't know anything about apparitions. But he also knew he would have to give her a chance to discover the truth. "Only if you let me go with you. I would be honored. There is a woman, older than time. She wanders the castle grounds. Most see her in the late evening and early morning."

"Old as time, no older?"

A shimmering silver light hung over the castle and floated above the turrets. Ryder pointed toward the light. "Is that her?"

"She's a bit reclusive." Christel turned in Ryder's arms. "Yes, that's her."

"One might say that about her." His hands rested at the small of Christel's back. He wanted to kiss her but didn't want to frighten her again. Maybe a lazy gentle kiss would be accepted. The thought made him grin.

He traced her neck with the tip of his finger, hoping she would find his attentions acceptable then bent close to her. "I want to kiss you. Will you let me?" She shivered in his arms but turned her face up to him.

"Yes." She breathed softly. Her words gentle yet hesitant.

Her reticence bothered him. What had happened in her past? His thoughts shot to Lord Rathen and her hasty departure from London. Every part of him tightened with disgust. He would discover the truth and make the despicable rake pay for any injustice committed against Christel.

Watching her eyes for signs of fear, Ryder lowered his mouth to hers. He touched her gently, molded his lips against her, thrilled to hear the sigh of pleasure emanate from her. He ran one hand up her back, pulling her closer, reveling in the feel of her softness against his hard planes. Her breasts pushed against him. The need to feel every inch of her pulsed through him but he didn't dare.

He moved back and once again looking into her eyes. She lowered her lashes then returned his gaze.

"Don't think, little one, just feel and know that I would never hurt you. I want more but I won't rush you."

She touched his cheek with one slender fingertip. "Kiss me again."