Tuesday Tales: More From Same Time Next Year

badge-for-tt-very-small-1Good morning and welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. It’;s been a crazy week for me. I had my first television interview as a writer–a five-minute spot on local cable TV, but I’m hoping it will generate sales. and lead to other things. Today, I bring you a tease for my new manuscript, a contemporary paranormal. I used this image and the word BIKE since I wasn’t sure how the group had left it. I may have contributed more than my share to that little mix-up. pond

Here’s your tease.

Rather than answer her granddaughter, Twyla looked out the window. How many times had she ridden her bike along this road and others leading to the cottages on Indian Lake? There had been a special place she’d loved, a small pond hidden in the trees, where she’d often gone to read, lying on the rocks above it, enjoying the peace and quiet. That was where he’d first kissed her.


“I’m sorry. I was just admiring the scenery. The last summer I was here, I met a young man whose family owned one of the nearby cottages. He had just finished his last year at the Royal Military College in Kingston and was working as a canal guard. We knew our time was short. I had to return to New Jersey and he had to put in his five years in the Canadian army, but we promised to stay in touch, and if possible, to come back at the same time the following year, and to keep doing so until we met again.”

“Were you in love?” The creases on her granddaughter’s brow were deep while her eyes shone with unshed tears.

“We thought so, but our relationship was doomed from the start. He was poor Irish Catholic and Father hated papists as he called them. We thought we had lots of time to find a way around that, but then suddenly I was a married to another.”

Twyla looked away, unable to stop the one lone tear from crawling down her cheek.

“That’s so sad, but you wrote to him, right? You explained what happened?”

“I tried, but he never answered my letters. I need to see him again, make him understand.” She jutted out her chin. Nothing would stop her from finding Michael.

That’s it for this week! Don’t forget to check out all the other posts on  Tuesday Tales.


Friday’s Featured Author: David Russell

Russell-HeadshotMy guest today is David Russell, a British author. His accolades are many.  Born in 1940,  David is a resident of the UK.  He writes poetry, literary criticism, speculative fiction and romance. His main poetry collection is Prickling Counterpoints (1998). He’s also published poems online in International Times. His primary speculative works are High Wired On (2002); Rock Bottom (2005). He’s also translated the Spanish epic La Araucana, Amazon 2013. Among his romances you’ll find Self’s Blossom; Explorations; Further Explorations; Therapy Rapture; Darlene, An Ecstatic Rendezvous (all pub Extasy (Devine Destinies). He’s also an indie author of self-published work, which includes a collection of erotic poetry and artwork, Sensual Rhapsody, 2015. As if that isn’t enough, he’s a singer-songwriter/guitarist whose main CD albums  are Bacteria Shrapnel and Kaleidoscope Concentrate. You can find many tracks on You Tube, under ‘Dave Russell’.

Dreamtime SensualityI’ve had the chance to read Dreamtime Sensuality, a combination of four distinct stories.  According to the blurb, “the characters in this quartet of stories are intelligent, sensitive, and literary. They are also supremely voyeuristic and open-minded. Their intelligence is counterbalanced by inhibitions, which they can only lose by premeditated seduction scenarios, which relate intimately to their professional, creative, and cultural lives. The great effort each couple puts into arranging a scenario seems to enhance the quality of the experience. A great source of inspiration for this and other works has been the novel The Girl Beneath the Lion by André Pieyre de Mandiargues.

Review: 3.5 stars

I’ll be honest, I found the stories disturbing since they all involve acting on sexual fantasies with a stranger, something I could never see myself condoning. The writing style is interesting and unique–almost poetry and yet prose. David has a good command of the English language, but some might find it difficult to follow and not just because of the British aspect to it. The vocabulary does have words that most of us don’t use on a regular basis. Still, don’t let that put you off.  If you’re into voyeurism, sexual fantasies, and delayed gratification, I’m sure this will be right up your alley.

Here is more of David’s work and some reviews provided by the author:

Fools’ Paradise Reviews

Fools' ParadiseJim Herrington has found himself wandering and hitchhiking across America, trying to find his place in the world after some difficulties in his Academic workplace. Staying at a cross between a commune and youth hostel, he struggles to fit into the alternative, volatile situation he finds himself in. Celia, the “house mother” is a strange, mysterious woman prone to sudden changes of heart, yet Jim finds himself unaccountably attracted to her.

This is a slightly strange book, unlike most anything else I’ve read. Told in the first person in some ways it’s difficult to understand what’s going on, as we can only see things from Jim’s perspective and experience. Also, while much is alluded to throughout the story, I didn’t feel as if some things were very clearly explained, things like why – exactly – Jim found himself at this hostel, what he was running from and whether he was complicit in much of the drug trafficking and such. In some ways this felt to me like one of those “confessions of” stories, and while I did enjoy it, I spent most of the time mystified as to where the story was going, what was fully happening with the plot, and what the thrust of the plot really was. Despite this I wanted to understand, the author’s writing was quick, precise and interesting and so I continued to read in the hopes of illumination. While even upon completion I still didn’t get most of it, I didn’t feel as if I had wasted my time either, reading something completely alternative and refreshingly different.

There’s no traditional romance or erotica in this short story, the sex is held pretty much behind closed doors (there’s no graphic content to it, merely a build up to it and then declaration of the act having been performed) and while it’s clear the main relationship is between Jim and Celia, I didn’t personally find any romance between them. For an erotic short story this surprised me, but seemed to resonate with the first person, slightly disjointed, mysterious tone and presentation of the whole tale. I feel that readers who are looking for something completely outside the box and different might truly enjoy this, but readers wanting just a quick, sexy read mightn’t find what they’re looking for here.

A really different read, but still enjoyable.


Further Explorations:

FURTHEREXPLORATIONS (2)David Russell doesn’t hold back in Further Explorations. I enjoyed reading about Cedric and Janice. They share so many of the same qualities, thoughts and experiences. Reading about characters with a lot in common was a breath of fresh air, as most wo/man pairs are drawn together by their differences, opposites attract and all. Cedric and Janice, on the other hand, are drawn together as if they are one being no matter how much physical distance is between them.

As Cedric and Janice take off to different parts of the world, we get to experience the depth of their understanding of each other, their wild experiences, and how they communicate with one another. For example, Chapter 15 was especially memorable because their instinct told them that their beings had fused, that they were in absolute synch wherever in the world each of them was, whatever the physical distance between them.

Further Explorations is a great read because David really focuses on getting into the character’s mind. This novel does a great job communicating the experiences of Janice and Cedric, and pulling your mind into their connection. David’s descriptive writing is rich and any woman who loves a slow burning read will enjoy Further Explorations.
thumbnail_rendezvous72 (2)[1]An Ecstatic Rendezvous Review

This is a short story, told in first person, about a shy man who is inexperienced with women, yet a self-proclaimed narcissist, and he is seeking a sexual encounter with the woman of his dreams. The narrating voice is quirky and comical, at times, making it a fun read as this man takes you through his rendezvous, an experience he has clearly thought about at length beforehand and meticulously planned. Great read and I look forward to reading other stories by this author! This story has a sequel entitled Darlene.

This is an interesting short story, told in the first person from the male protagonist’s point of view. I enjoyed how it was somewhat like one of those “tell a secret” confession letters, but still rich in detail and descriptions. There’s quite a bit of internal discussion – as one would expect from a first-person tale – and I was pleased that for a change we got to see and experience everything from the man’s point of view. It was different to how a woman would have told the story, and I found this made the story fresh and quite interesting.

I found the dialogue a little stilted, almost oddly formal in places considering it was a sexual experience – for example “At last, your courage has fused with your admirable circumspection”. I wondered if this was written on purpose – to add to the air of an old film, or perhaps the unreality of a fantasy come to life. The slight off-beat language jarred me now and then, but wasn’t strong enough to make me want to stop reading, and certainly didn’t dampen my curiosity about how it would all end up.

I was also a little surprised at the dichotomy of the protagonist. In his opening sentence he declares “Yes, I’m a narcissist and proud of it”, yet he’s too shy to ask a woman out for a date. He’s spent months exercising and buffing his body up to perfection, but can’t gather the courage to ask a still-life model out for dinner and a date. While this paradox confused me, it also intrigued me. I’ll admit to still being a little confused even by the ending, but as this was his first experience and he later explains further about his shyness, I came away with the feeling that the protagonist was a lot more complicated than we could get to understand in the briefness of the story.

This was a very different style of story and probably won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. Still I have to admit I really enjoyed it. I liked the different perspective, the feel of a romantic confession and the fact it was unlike practically every other story I’ve read. It’s fresh and different and that alone made it well worth the read. There is one very tastefully written sex scene, quite graphic but nothing I found remotely offensive. I think readers interested in a take on a man’s sexual experience and fantasy, or those who enjoy “confessions of” style tales should find this quite enjoyable. 

Well, that’s it.  Have a great weekend.




Thursday Thoughts: End of the World–Again?

St Lawrence and USAGood morning, at least I hope it’s been or going to be a good day for you. I intend to make it a productive, good day for me, unlike yesterday when I let current events and doomsday prediction steal my creativity from me. Today, I’m trusting that God and cool heads will prevail.

I took this photograph standing on the Canadian shore looking across to New York State. That’s how close I am to the United States of America, and essentially, what happens there, affects what happens here. Whether or not I believe Mr. Trump to be the right person to lead that nation is a moot point, but the decisions he makes impact my country, too.

Take his rhetoric on immigrants. Last winter, people died out on the prairies, trying to cross into Canada from the US. I’m talking men, women, and children. Why would a parent endanger their own child like that? At the moment, there’s an influx of Haitian immigrants crossing into Quebec, only a couple of hundred miles from here. These people aren’t coming from Haiti itself–no, they escaped that place and went to Florida, but now, for reasons I actually find confusing, they are seeking asylum in Canada. And not just a few of them, either. By my count, based on last night’s news, we’re looking at hundreds. Why? It makes no sense to me.

Like many, I’ve been caught up in the news, and most of it isn’t good. Mother Nature seems to have gone crazy with animals — birds and fish — behaving uncharacteristically. Some are blaming it on the upcoming solar eclipse on August 21st, but


I don’t buy that. We’ve had eclipses before during my lifetime. Others are looking once more at doomsday prophecies. The latest one has the world coming to an end on Septem

ber 19th.  That tune’s been overdone.  The ones I remember best were the end of the world caused by Y2K in 2000, and of course ,the Mayan prophecy of 2012. Guess what? We’re still here. My husband and I often watch disaster movies, something we started doing years ago with The Towering Inferno, Earthquake, Volcano, Armageddon, The Day After, Sinkhole — the list goes on. Most of the movies deal with some natural phenomena, often from outer space, or a man-made disaster because we’ve failed to take good care of the planet. Strangely, the sinkhole swallowing some of Florida has me remembering one of those movies.  While it’s true Florida is prone to sinkholes, I don’t ever remember one of the size and destructive ability of the one they have now. Seven homes lost according to the news on August 7th.


But as bad as those things are, they aren’t what’s keeping me awake at night. My problem is that I’m stuck again in an old mindtrap, the one that terrified me in the early sixties. Screen-shot-2015-09-04-at-1.11.43-PMDo you remember the sirens? the drills? the crawling under your desk, your heart pounding a mile a minute in case this was the real one? I do, and sadly, those terrors of my early teens have come back to haunt me. But the sirens that were to warn us against imminent dangers were all taken down in the 1970s by the Department of Defense — they were old and rusty, becoming eyesores — and we no longer needed them.


Back in the fifties and sixties, my parents were in the army reserves  and were part of the EMO, the Emergency Measures Organization.  Our greatest fear? An atomic bomb  from the USSR–The United Soviet Socialist Republic. Cornwall wasn’t considered a target per se in the early fifties. We were a receiving center, but after the dam was built and the St. Lawrence Seaway opened, that changed. Our dam provides power primarily to the Eastern Seaboard of the US. Knock out our dam, and millions of Canadians and Americans are without power. And, once one part of the grid goes down, it can take out the rest of it–a domino effect. We’ve seen that happen a couple of times before.

fp_20170517_nk_missile_rangeThese past few weeks, the news has been full of doomsday predictions thanks to North Korean dictator, Kim Jong-un flexing his muscles against the US. I’m hearing rumors and reading real news reports — not those pesky fake ones — that tell me that this threat may be more real than anyone wants to believe.  But we aren’t looking at an atomic bomb. Kim has a nuclear arsenal and he’s been testing his delivery system, claiming it can now reach the US and if it can reach them, it can reach us.  So, trapped in the sixties again, what do I do? Build a bomb shelter? Stock up on bottled water?

Yesterday, I spent the day worrying about the threat of war and what that would mean for my children and grandchildren, and I realized that there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop this if it’s going to happen. Ever since 9-11, we’ve been under one threat or another — the Taliban, ISIS, lone wolf terrorist, people with guns shooting up schools, workplaces, you name it. This isn’t like trying to save the environment, cutting back of fatty foods, getting more exercise, or spending quality time with family. This danger is out of my hands, and if I let it get to me, I’ll destroy my peace of mind and whatever good life has left for me. We’re all here for a finite number of days. When our time’s up, it’s over, but until my time is up, I have to look away from the negative and find the positive. I’ll put my faith in the Lord and hope cool heads prevail.

What about you? Will you let the news and doomsday prophecies ruin whatever time you have left?


Midweek Tease: More From Chapter One, No Good Deed

New midweek tease imageHello everyone. Last week’s debut for No Good Deed was a good one. It made # 40 in Books > Mystery, Thriller & Suspense > Thrillers & Suspense > Crime > Organized Crime on Amazon.ca. Would love to see it show results like that elsewhere.

Welcome to this week’s Midweek Tease, the weekly blog made possible by Angelica Dawson. Take time to check out the other offerings, but be warned, most of them are definitely for adult eyes only!

Here’s this week’s tease. 

Final cover, No Good DeedPushing gently to enlarge the opening enough to pass through, Alexa took three steps into the room, and peered around the corner, stopping cold at the scene before her.

What in God’s name had she stumbled into?

Four men stood in a straight line, each of them with a gun pressed against the back of the head of a man kneeling in front of him. While the four stood like statues, three of them with their gazes fixed on the man who appeared to be the leader, they made no sound. The tears and pleas came from the faceless men before them.

No one had seen her yet, but once they did … There was nothing she could do for these men. Sweat coursed down her back, her breath came in pants, and her heart beat out a staccato. Her hands trembling so badly she was afraid she’d drop the wine, she edged her way back to the hallway, praying she could make it to her car undetected. She would call 9-1-1 as soon as she was safe and hope help could arrive in time.

The man in black spoke, but the only words she recognized were ton visage before the sound of firecrackers exploding tore through the air, piercing her ears, and she screamed, muzzling her mouth with her empty hand. Too late. As four kneeling bodies melted to the floor, eight eyes found her. The wine bottle slipped from her hand and smashed on the tile, the golden liquid slithering across the sloped floor toward the bodies.

Three of the men glared at her, their eyebrows pulled down, lips in a tight, straight line, chins jutting out. The man in black, who’d been looking at her over his shoulder like the others, turned to face her. His mustache twitched and his mouth opened slightly, a smile playing at the edge of it. He cocked an eyebrow, the one tipped with a dark mole, and nodded. The diamond stud in his ear sparkled in the lamplight.

“Well, well, look who we have here. The gods do favor the bold,” he said in English before switching to another language—not French, maybe Greek? She concentrated on each syllable, trying to imprint the words in her brain.

If she didn’t know it was impossible, she would swear the man knew her. Perhaps she resembled an acquaintance. Had she seen this devil before, she would remember him. She licked her dry lips and swallowed what little saliva she had. Inhaling, she choked on the vile aroma of feces mixed with the pungent scent of gunpowder.

For a second, she couldn’t breathe as her brain tried to make sense of what she was looking at. Had this been an execution? What could they have done to deserve such horrific deaths? She exhaled shakily.

She was about to run when another firecracker exploded, this one accompanied by an incredibly strong blow across her lower back. The whack, like the powerful crack of a bat hitting a grand slam out of the park, sent her sprawling, face first, into the blood of those who’d been shot. Seconds later, the agonizing pain was replaced by an intense burning so hot she was certain it would sear right through her. Black spots floated before her eyes, and despite the torment, she fought to stay conscious. What the hell had happened? Using every ounce of strength she had, she reached around to the spot where the pain was centered. Liquid oozed over her hand.

Slowly, cold as intense as the heat of the bullet claimed her fingers and toes, then her hands and feet, creeping up her body until she shivered violently, flopping on the floor like a fish out of water.

Warm fingers checked her carotid pulse. How much longer would the blood flow through it? The screech of sirens filled the air. She braced herself for a blow that didn’t come.

This was how it ended. Why waste another bullet? She was dying, the final seconds of her life ticking past. Where was the beautiful white light she’d been told would appear? There was nothing but the numbness and the inevitable burning.

Calm filled her, and she licked the coppery blood from her lips—it might be hers, but then again, it could belong to one of these four men. Soon, her brain would cease to function from lack of blood, her organs would stop working, and like the men beside her, her bowels would empty. She would be nothing but another smelly corpse for the coroner to cut up and catalog.

The sirens were louder. Like water swirling before it ran down the drain, blackness replaced light. There was no pain now. Regret for all the things she never accomplished filled her, almost instantly replaced with euphoria. Funny the way things turned out. By dying, she would finally be free of him.

I won. I made it. He’ll never hurt me again.

No Good Deed is available from:

Amazon.com https://www.amazon.com/No-Good-Deed-Susanne-Matthews-ebook/dp/B071F7N8M4

Amazon.ca https://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B071F7N8M4

Amazon.co.uk https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B071NZS7HY

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/no-good-deed-susanne-matthews/1126398214

i-Tunes https://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/no-good-deed/id1236917968

Google Play https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Susanne_Matthews_No_Good_Deed

Kobo https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/no-good-deed-29

Simon and Schuster: http://www.simonandschuster.ca/books/No-Good-Deed/Susanne-Matthews/9781507205631

#MidWeekTease August 9, 2017

This is a Blog Hop!

Tuesday Tales: From the Word Business

badge-for-tt-very-small-1Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Summer’s still with us here in Eastern Ontario, and I for one hope we have at least another month of it. Autumn’s not far behind though since the maples have already started to turn red–not many of them, but enough to remind us that fall will be here sooner than we think.

Tuesday Tales are essentially a look at a work in progress. This weekly blog hop gives you insight into the heads of a few talented authors, and it always amazes me to find myself in such esteemed company. Thank you, Jean Joachim, for making this weekly event possible.

This week, I’m continuing with my new contemporary paranormal entitled Same Time Next Year and this week’s word is BUSINESS. I hope you enjoy today’s scene, which continues where last week’s ended.

“Do you want me to pull over so you can stretch?” Lana asked, breaking into her thoughts. “It looks like there’s a snack trailer over there. We’ve been in the car for more than two hours since the last stop.”

chip truck.png“Around here, they call them chip trucks. They sell French fries and probably poutine now, too.” Twyla laughed. “I can’t imagine my mother ever eating fries smothered in beef gravy and fresh cheese curds.” She shook her head. “Mother was always complaining about her weight. She would certainly have given Billie a run for her money in that department. If you don’t need to get out to stretch then neither do I. I’m anxious to get there and settle in. As strange as it sounds, the closer we get, the younger I feel, almost as if this place is rejuvenating me.”

Lana laughed. “I think it’s knowing you won’t be under Mom’s eagle eye for four whole weeks that’s doing that.”

Twyla chuckled. “You’re probably right. Thanks again for doing this. I realize our escape is mutually beneficial, but don’t worry about me. Once I start writing, I’ll be fine. Did you get hold of your friends?”

Lana signaled a left turn and slowed the vehicle. Once she was on the country lane, recently paved Twyla noticed, her granddaughter looked at her, an impish grin in place.

“I might’ve let Dillon know I would be in the area. He’s working at the American Embassy for the summer. He’s staying at his cousin’s—Max got him the job—and says I can crash there if I can make it to Ottawa. His sister, Rachel, is staying there, too. You do realize Mom will have a fit if she finds out what we’ve done.”

Twyla pursed her lips. She loved her daughter, really she did. She’d been her whole life for much of it, but at times Billie was even more overbearing than William could be. “Your mother has been having one fit after another for as long as I can remember. She means well, but she’s too much like your grandfather, needing to be in complete control of her environment at all times. She has to let go of both of us. Despite what she thinks, Billie can’t live the rest of my life for me and she can’t live yours. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

Lana shook her head. “When you put it that way, I can almost feel sorry for her. She’s been hounding me about where I’m going to live in Cambridge. I want to get into one of the big sororities, but if she’s around, I won’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of doing so.” She snorted. “Dad’s promised to take her to Europe with him on his business trip at the beginning of September. The only thing she likes better than sticking her nose into my life is shopping. Now, tell me the real reason we’re going to this resort.”

Twyla smiled as the weight of years of broken promises seemed to slip from her shoulders.

“There’s no secret to that, sweetie. I promised someone I would come back.” She sighed. “Circumstances beyond my control have kept me away, but not any longer.” She let the memories engulf her.

“My mother was born in Kingston, Ontario and moved to New Jersey when she married my father. As a girl, she would come here for a month each summer, and once my brother Ethan and I were old enough to travel, she decided to continue the tradition. Father drove us up, stayed a couple of nights, and then drove back home. He rarely took any time away from work. He saw it as his sworn duty to make that Studebaker dealership the largest one in the state. Truth be told, he was such a quiet man that being alone without Mom to harp on him and Ethan and I underfoot was all the rest he needed. When our month was up, he would come back for us.”

1964-Studebaker-03-e1412538759404“A Studebaker dealership? Wow. I saw one of those cars at that antique car show in Newark. Too bad they went belly-up. That must’ve been tough.”

Twyla closed her eyes. Tough wasn’t a strong enough word for it. Vacationing at The Colonel’s Inn had been an annual thing until that last year when fate had conspired to destroy her only chance at love and happiness.

“Gramma?” Lana asked, looking over quickly. “Are you okay? That sigh came from your toes.”

“I’m fine. I  was lost in thought. When you get to be my age, you have a lot of memories, but not all of them are good ones. My last visit here ended just three days before my brother was killed in Viet Nam. Your Uncle Ethan was three years older than I was and against father’s wishes, he dropped out of business school and joined the army. Father was furious and said terrible things to him the night before he deployed. I’m sure he regretted them, but that was before the Internet and world-wide connectivity. He never got to apologize and took his only son’s death hard. While I didn’t know about his financial problems–apparently, he’d sunk everything into the dealership and Studebaker stocks–I knew something was wrong. A few weeks later, Studebaker announced it had gone into bankruptcy. Losing everything right after Ethan was just too much for him, and his heart gave out. My mother was bitter—I don’t think she ever forgave him for what she claimed was wishing himself to death. Left with nothing but a pile of debts, she turned to my Uncle Sherman who took control. Within the month, he’d sold everything we had and we moved to Newark. Aunt Agnes introduced me to your grandfather, and William and I were married six weeks later. Thanks to his generosity, Mother returned to the lifestyle she wanted, and I concentrated on being a good wife.”

“How romantic.” Lana sighed. “It must’ve been love at first sight.”

“Love at first sight?” The words were bitter on her tongue. “Sweetheart, while I came to care for your grandfather, our marriage was more of a business arrangement to settle the last of your grandfather’s debts than a love match. As heir to his father’s law firm, William required a wife to satisfy the other partners, and I needed stability. Uncle Sherman saw it as an advantageous match for both of us.”

Lana raised the corner of her upper lip. “You mean you were sold off to him to pay debts?  That’s gross!”

“It wasn’t that bad. William and I got along famously and had twenty-five satisfying years together.”

But they’d been lonely years. William had been a kind and attentive man, but he’d never claimed her heart just as she’d never had his.

“Lana, don’t feel sorry for me.  I’ve had a good life, and I certainly don’t regret it. Without your grandfather’s support, I would never have become an author. People don’t always marry for love and passion. William and I were content, and your mother brought us both great joy. Had he lived, he would’ve doted on you, too.”

Lana smiled, but her eyes were shadowed with sadness. “If you say so. Who did you make the promise to?”

That’s it for this week! Don’t forget to check out all the other posts on  Tuesday Tales.

Friday’s Featured Author: Heather Renee

falls banner


To The Falls

The Falls Trilogy: Book One

By: Heather Renee

Sale Date: August 4th, 2017

Genre: YA Fantasy


falls cover 1

Back Cover Copy

Kaliah “Kali” Atwater is awaiting two things, finishing sophomore year in college and her upcoming twentieth birthday. The day before Kali’s birthday, she finds out that the dream she’s had every night for almost a year of a beautiful land, isn’t a fantasy at all. It’s her birth place.
Every twenty years a new generation of Guardians return to Arvata to bring life back to their world and renew the magic of the Falls. Now it’s Kali’s turn, but dark magic has made its way into her new home preventing the Falls from replenishing.
Kali must accept the role assigned to her by the Fates or let Arvata crumble. Can she and her friends save Arvata in time? Will new love make her stronger? Or will the darkness finally win?

Only the Fates know for sure…

Buy Links: Amazon (Kindle Unlimited)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2vN6NCh

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2tNIZRs

Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2w43Igk


From The Falls

The Falls Trilogy: Book Two

By: Heather Renee

Release Date: August 4th, 2017

Genre: YA Fantasy

falls cover 2

Back Cover Copy
After defeating the darkness that endangered the Falls, Arvata is thriving once again. With the turmoil behind her, Kali is finally getting a handle on being an Elder, finding ways to master her Arelia abilities while enjoying her blissful life as a newlywed. The only thing missing is the town healer who mysteriously left a year ago without reason.

But Lorelle returns with grave news, and she requires help from the Elders with her mission. Half-Guardians, hybrids unknown to Kali’s world, are in danger and time is running out to protect them from a greater evil lurking in the Otherworld. Possessing powers unlike full Guardians, it is us up to Kali and her friends to figure out how to protect them, and prevent more from being created.

Trust must be earned. Unseen powers will emerge. Loved ones’ lives will be threatened.

Will the risk be worth it in the end?

Buy Links: Amazon (Kindle Unlimited)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2uGv8tf

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2tNMG9A

Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2h6Bq2t


Author Bio:

Heather Renee is a new indie author that lives in the gorgeous Pacific Northwest in Oregon. She writes YA Fantasy that has a mixture of suspense, humor and a little romance.

When Heather’s not writing, she is spending time with her beautiful daughter and an amazing husband. Two cats, and a dog who loves the snow complete their household. On weekends if she doesn’t have a book in her face, you can find Heather going on different adventures with her family. Her favorite being hiking to Multnomah Falls.

She loves to hear from her fans, so visit her webpage and the Contact Me link for ways to connect. http://www.HeatherReneeAuthor.com

Author Links:

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teaser 1

Throwback Thursdays: Memories and a Teaser

Birthday flowers 2017Hello and thanks for stopping by again today. This has been a busy week for me. On Monday, No Good Deed was released.  Of the twenty novels I’ve written, this is my eighth release with Crimson Romance, but the first one officially published by Simon and Schuster who now own that imprint and are my publishers. As an author, it’s always been a dream of mine to actually write and get published by one of the “BIG” publishers. Having a dream come true is a big moment in one’s life.

Tuesday was another big moment as I celebrated my birthday. It seems they come far more often now than they used to, and each one brings new aches and pains. I always thought getting old would take longer as the meme a friend sent me said. While realistically I know time passes at the same speed it always has, I can’t help  thinking it’s been in zoom mode these past few years. But, I’m still on the right side of the grass even if I do move more slowly than I did.

Yesterday, I got more exciting news. I’m going to be interviewed by our local cable television station next week. It won’t be my first time on television, but it’s scary and exciting at the same time. Big question is what to wear. The camera adds ten pounds, right? No white is all I was told, so I have a week to decide on an outfit!

Today’s Picture comes from the summer of 1990 when we went to

John and I in Atlantic City 1990

Atlantic City for a couple of days. Hard to believe I was ever that young–and that thin. LOve the glasses my hubby’s wearing. I think those are actually back in style.

We had a great time as I recall, visiting the various casinos just to look around. Back then, most places had a signature cocktail you could buy and you got to keep the glass. When we left Atlantic City we drove down to Cape May and spent a night there. I watched the news and saw the damage inflicted on the area by Hurricane Sandy a few years ago, but my memories of those gorgeous colorful Victorian houses are still strong. I can look through my albums and see them any time I want.

Final cover, No Good DeedNow, for today’s teaser from No Good Deed.

Alexa had taken three steps toward the front when the slap of skin on skin made her cringe. What if someone really did need help?

The man pleading loudly could be the store owner. He could have a wife and children back there that someone was threatening, to force him to open a safe. Didn’t it sound like more than one person crying? She couldn’t walk away if there was even a remote chance someone’s life was in danger. Better to make a fool of herself than leave someone to be murdered. It had taken her months to get up the courage to try to escape once more, but helping someone else was a different matter.

Gripping the wine bottle by the neck, an unlikely weapon but the only one she had, she crept down the hallway, past the washroom, and stopped. The door leading into the back of the building wasn’t completely closed, and through the crack, she spotted a man’s back. Was that another kneeling in front of him?


No Good Deed is available from:

Amazon.com https://www.amazon.com/No-Good-Deed-Susanne-Matthews-ebook/dp/B071F7N8M4

Amazon.ca https://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B071F7N8M4

Amazon.co.uk https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B071NZS7HY

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/no-good-deed-susanne-matthews/1126398214

i-Tunes https://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/no-good-deed/id1236917968

Google Play https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Susanne_Matthews_No_Good_Deed

Kobo https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/no-good-deed-29

Simon and Schuster: http://www.simonandschuster.ca/books/No-Good-Deed/Susanne-Matthews/9781507205631