Book Fair! New Releases

man wearing pink polo shirt with text overlay

Photo by Artem Bali on

Good morning and welcome to November’s book fair, sponsored by Australian author, Iris Blobel. As always, I’m thrilled to have been invited to participate with my new, soon to be released novel, Murder & Mistletoe, due out November 21st, but available for pre-order today.  And as pumped as I am about my release, there are many great books and anthologies available to you.


Banner New Releases Book Fair

You’ll find mystery, romance, history, comedy, and more, so take a few minutes to pop over to

and find a new book to read or even a new author to follow. Remember, some of the books will be free to read on KU.

Lastly, heads up,  Amazon has been working in the background and it seems many international readers are currently unable to view some kdp books on the The problems vary from the book not even being there to messages like “This title is not currently available for purchase”. If that happens, please check the Amazon. that you are expected to use for purchasing. This won’t affect US  readers or those of you with an American IP address. Sorry for any inconvenience this may cause. 

Have a wonderful weekend!



Midweek Tease: More from Murder & Mistletoe

MWTease15Hello and welcome to the Midweek Tease. I’m a week away from the release date for this book and thought I would continue to share from its opening chapter. Thanks to Angelica Dawson and all the fine writers who make this blog possible.

I have recently discovered that due to Amazon’s strange way of doing things, many of my books, available in kindle format, are not showing up on my author page and this is incredibly frustrating for me.  I hope you understand that this is out of my control.  So far, I believe Murder & Mistletoe is visible. Fingers crossed it stays that way!


M&M teaser

July 18th

Rain, rain, and still more rain. It seemed as if the sun hadn’t shone since he’d lost Amy. The wind howled, its eerie mournful sound raising goosebumps as the unseasonable cold burrowed deep into his bones. Water dripped from the mistletoe on the ash tree in the cemetery, the gentle plops on his umbrella strangely soothing. Scotty clutched his arm, his shoulders quaking.

The last month had been sheer hell. Because of the circumstances, a full police investigation had been launched into the fire, meaning they’d had to sit on their hands and wait for the body to be released.

The authorities had been forced to use dental records to identify Amy, her corpse so badly charred that the coroner refused to let him see it. No closure, no final goodbye. Harvey Winston, an old friend from school and now the Special Agent in Charge for the Georgia Bureau of Investigations for the region had visited the house a week ago. His words reverberated inside Steve’s head in a never-ending chorus and would haunt him the rest of his days.

“Steve, I know this won’t be much comfort, but Amy didn’t suffer. They found her in the library under a bookshelf. According to the medical examiner, her skull was crushed and death would’ve been instantaneous, but it wasn’t because of the bookshelf. There was granite dust embedded in her skull. Whoever did this must’ve expected the place to be empty, and when she surprised him, he killed her. We’ll pull out all the stops to find the one responsible. It was probably a robbery gone wrong with the fire set in order to cover it up. There were a lot of chemicals in the house that would fetch a high price on the black market. We’re keeping the actual cause of her death quiet while we investigate. Maybe we’ll smoke the bastard out. We’ve got fences on the look out for antique frames and light fixtures—there wasn’t much left in there to steal—but I won’t get your hopes up too high. The fire destroyed whatever evidence the killer might’ve left. I’m sorry. This might take a while to solve, but by God, we’ll do it. By the way, we didn’t find her cellphone. We’ve got technicians watching to see if it comes on, but so far nothing. I’ll keep you posted.”

Guilt had swamped him. Not an accident as Michael had suggested. Nor was it Jeremy’s ghosts and the damn family curse, but a flesh and blood killer. If he’d been there, he could’ve protected his wife. The coward who’d struck her wouldn’t have even attempted the robbery with him around. He should’ve asked David to take Scotty to that game, but Amy had gone on and on about father-son time. If only he hadn’t given in to her.

He and his son were staying at Magnolia Hills with Jeremy and Celia, well away from the ruins, unable to live in Mistletoe Manor, the home Amy had designed for them before Scott was born—there was just too much of her there, too many memories to consume them. Next week, he would move into a newly renovated house along the Fargo Road. He couldn’t bear the thought of living on the plantation a second longer.

Murder & Mistletoe is available for pre-order from:


Please check out the rest of this week’s teases. 

#MidWeekTease November 14, 2018


Tuesday Tales: From a Picture

New TT imageGood morning. Welcome to this week’s edition of Tuesday Tales. It’s picture week, and since I couldn’t find a way to use the picture in the story I’ve been doing, I could use it in the one I’m editing. Murder & Mistletoe will be published next Wednesday, November 21st. Enjoy this peek into the story. Here’s the picture.

dark tunnel

She blinked, shook herself, and stood, picking up the flashlight. She was going to have some damn fine bruises tomorrow.

“Candy! Where are you?”Steve’s voice came from above her.

“I’m down here,” she cried. “The water from the fire hoses must’ve rotted the floor, and I fell through. I’m in some kind of tunnel.” She flashed the light around. “Unfortunately, I don’t see any stairs. You’ll have to find a ladder or something.” She swallowed. “And find it quickly please. I really don’t like it down here.”

“There’s a ladder out near the carriage house. Stay right where you are.”

“Not a problem. Did I mention I don’t like things that creep, crawl, or slither?” her voice wobbled on the last word.

There could be any number of black widow spiders and poisonous snakes in here.

“I’ll be back as quickly as I can.” Steve yelled down.

“Hurry.” She probably hadn’t needed to say that. Steve would move as fast as he could.

Walking slowly forward, she examined her temporary prison. The tunnel or whatever it was stretched ahead of her, farther than the beam of light could reach. In her mind’s eye, she saw doors and windows off of it, openings long gone when they’d added the extension to the house. Oak leaves littered the floor. They were still damp. That meant someone had brought them in on their shoes in the not too distant past. She slipped them into her back pocket. If there was a way into the tunnel from outside, then the tunnel had to have a way into the house other than the glorious hole she’d just made.

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

Midweek Tease: More from Murder & Mistletoe

MWTease15Good morning and happy November.

As we move toward the end of this year, the weather is still crazy. Let’s hope for better things to come. Thanks to the lovely Angelia Dawson for making this weekly blog possible. If you’re a writer and would like to join us, message me for the linky link!

This morning, I will give you another peek at the opening scene from Murder & Mistletoe, my new Christmas Romance Suspense.

M&M teaser

Going home for Christmas can be deadly.
Candy Kayne agrees to go to Black Oaks, the Georgia plantation her ancestor reluctantly left after the Civil War, to meet the family she’s never known and help Steve set a trap for his wife’s killer. Even the wildest tales have a kernel of truth in them and as she learns more about the family’s history, she realizes that coming here may have been the biggest mistake of her life.
Losing Amy almost destroyed Steve Anderson, but when Candy steps into his life, her sweetness chases the dark gloom away. But when he realizes the man who murdered his wife may have set his sights on Candy, he’ll do whatever he has to in order to keep her safe.

Here’s this week’s tease.

Claiming the house had an outstanding bone structure and swearing she could see the beauty and majesty of its heyday, Amy had put her heart and soul into this project—her labor of love. Pain stabbed so deep that he expected to see blood gushing from his chest. How was he going to tell his six-year-old son that his mother was dead?

“I told Uncle Luke restoring this place was a mistake, but he was hellbent on preserving the family history as if the thing deserved it.” Jeremy, the most superstitious and outspoken of the cousins, gritted his teeth. “The family abandoned it for a reason. The damn house is cursed and no amount of dancing around the issue and pretending it doesn’t exist is going to change that. We’ve all seen the lights bobbing in the windows late at night. How many accidents have you had on the worksite since you started the project? Three? Four?—and now this. We should’ve taken the damn thing down years ago and carted away every last brick and board. If Stowe had set her book at Black Oaks, Simon Legree would’ve been a choir boy compared to the plantation’s owner. Old Tobias is probably sitting at Satan’s right hand, gloating. If Uncle Luke thinks he can make up for all those atrocities by donating to every charity that knocks on the Kayne Foundation’s door, he’s got another think coming.” He shook his head, his fists clenched at his side. “I know you love the old man, but damn it. His single-minded obsession has cost you your wife and daughter. I won’t let it cost me mine. Let the accursed building burn until there’s nothing left of it. Maybe the tortured souls in there can finally rest in peace.”

Before Steve could answer, the fire chief stepped over to him. The man removed his helmet and licked his lips.

“Mr. Anderson, I understand your wife was inside the building. Was she alone?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know. I think so … She shouldn’t have been here at all, but…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

The man nodded. “Where might she have been? It’ll give us a place to start looking.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Steve frowned. Amy had been more excited about this restoration than anything else she’d ever worked on, but as much as she’d loved the work, she’d joked about the heebie-jeebies the place sometimes gave her when there was no one else around, as if every now and then, someone was looking over her shoulder. Why had she stayed late tonight?

“If something kept her, she would’ve been in her office—it’s on the ground floor near the front of the house, in the old dining room next to the library,” he answered, the words fighting their way out of his clogged throat as he sought to organize his jumbled thoughts.

“Did your wife often stay at the construction site alone?”

“I don’t like your implication,” his brother spoke before Steve could. “Amy was the architect in charge of this project for Anderson Restoration. Despite what you may be thinking, there’s nothing suspicious about her being here.”

“I didn’t mean to imply there was, Michael,” the chief’s voice betrayed his sympathy. He and his brother went way back to the days they’d played football together in high school. “I was just wondering whether or not there might be more bodies in there. We’ll save most of the original house—the fire seems to be contained in one area, but the addition at the back is gone.” He shook himself. “A couple of trees out there should probably come down, too.” Donning his helmet, he smiled, but there was no joy in it. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He touched the brim of his helmet in salute, and walked back to his men.

Within minutes, four firefighters, oxygen masks in place, climbed the front steps and disappeared inside.

Steve watched and waited, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t be in there, that she was at Mistletoe Manor sound asleep, but the pain burning deeper and deeper with each beat of his heart told a different story.

Had time stopped?

When two fireman came out, a body on a stretcher between them, his keening cry rivaled that of a banshee as he collapsed to the mud-soaked ground.

Murder & Mistletoe is available for pre-order with November 21 as the release date.


#MidWeekTease November 7, 2018

Tuesday Tales: From the Word SUDDENLY

New TT imageWelcome to November’s first Tuesday Tales. It’s hard to believe how quickly time flies.  Now that we’ve returned to Eastern Standard time, the days seem shorter than ever.

For those of you visiting for the first time, Tuesday Tales are a collection of scenes from works in progress post by select authors in this group. Each post is based on a word or picture prompt and limited to a specific number of words. Today, our word prompt is SUDDENLY, and the word limit is 400.

I’m continuing with The Price of Courage, Book Two of my Canadiana series. Enjoy.

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Lucien agreed, suddenly angrier than he’d ever been. “I want to go after them and make them pay for what they’ve done, but is vigilante justice what New France deserves?”

“I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it, and I’m sure Okwaho wouldn’t either,” Yves said, moving closer to the fire. “He’s out there mumbling in his own language. I’ve never seen him like that.”

“But if we take the law into our own hands, we fall to their level.” Lucien ground his teeth. “Sometimes, doing the right thing is the hardest of all. They won’t get away with their crimes, but for now, we must be patient, even if it chafes. Did you take care of the bodies?”

“Yes, I wrapped them tightly in the sailcloth I found in the outbuilding where they must’ve stored their furs. I suspended the corpses from the rafters in the loft. The animals won’t get them there. Tomorrow, if the snow allows, we can build a pyre and give the men a proper burial—it may not be the Christian way, but it’s better than covering them with snow and letting the animals have them.” Yves lowered his voice. “Did she tell you what happened?”

“She did.” Lucien recounted Huguette’s story, including the details about the mittens. “The men we caught when we helped find Isidore Poirier and my sister-in-law, tried to bribe us with the same tall tales as these. They claimed the secret map was already in Ville-Marie. I wish there was some way I could get a message to Guy. This conspiracy we’re chasing may be far greater than he suspects, and since it presumes there are traitors in Ville-Marie, he should watch his back. There will be a special place in hell for the men who’ve done this, although the one who tried to save her may have earned himself a time in purgatory instead. How does it look out there?”

Yves pursed his lips. “The snow’s coming down hard. I can’t see those fools coming after us in this. Let me warm up a bit and add wood to the fire, then I’ll make another perimeter sweep before settling on the veranda behind the woodpile. You’d better get some rest. If I need you, I’ll call.”

A log popped in the fireplace,momentarily upstaging the howling North wind.

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

New Release from Iris Blobel: Innocent Tears


It’s my pleasure to welcome one of my favorite Australian authors and her newest release.

by Iris Blobel


I’m excited to tell you all about the re-release of INNOCENT TEARS,
The book has enjoyed a rewrite and an awesome new cover.
I hope you’ll give Flynn and Emma’s story a chance.

♥♦♥ ~ OUT NOW ~ ♥♦♥
FREE for KU Subscribers



♥♦♥ Blurb ♥♦♥

Becoming a parent can be daunting at the best of times, but for Flynn McCormack, a business lawyer in Melbourne, it pulls the feet right out from underneath him. He’s become a father to six-year-old Nadine literally overnight. He didn’t know about her existence, and the news throws him into chaos, even more so when he is asked to take over custody.

With the help of Emma, an employee at the hotel where Nadine and her grandparents are staying, Flynn tries to do the right thing. Yet, the right thing in his eyes differs from his parents’ ideas, and Emma is voicing her opinion, too, leaving Nadine right in the middle of it all, still grieving the loss of her mother. There’s no doubt she’s afraid about where and with whom she will settle.

Will a letter Flynn receives help him decide what to do?

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Midweek Tease: Quick Peek at my New Release: Murder & Mistletoe

MWTease15Hello and welcome to the Halloween edition of the Midweek tease.  The weather here is lousy, but hopefully the rain will stop before the little goblins come out. Thanks to Angelica Dawson for making this blog hop possible.

This week, I’m teasing from my soon to be released Christmas Suspense novel, Murder & Mistletoe. The book is available for pre-order and will be released November 21, 2018.

Here’s the very first public posting of the cover.Murder&Mistletoe

Going home for Christmas can be deadly.

Candy Kayne agrees to go to Black Oaks, the Georgia plantation her ancestor reluctantly left after the Civil War, to meet the family she’s never known and help Steve set a trap for his wife’s killer. Even the wildest tales have a kernel of truth in them and as she learns more about the family’s history, she realizes that coming here may have been the biggest mistake of her life.

Losing Amy almost destroyed Steve Anderson, but when Candy steps into his life, her sweetness chases the dark gloom away. But when he realizes the man who murdered his wife may have set his sights on Candy, he’ll do whatever he has to in order to keep her safe.

And here’s the first ever look at the new book!

June 18th

“No, God, no, don’t do this. Don’t take them from me this way,” Steve cried, tears coursing down his cheeks, his heart and soul shattered. How could a loving God let this happen? But then God hadn’t always been the one in charge at Black Oaks. You only had to listen to the rumors and know a smidgen of the family’s history to realize that darkness held sway here.

Thick black smoke burned his throat, but nothing could hide the vicious flames still leaping into the sky as firefighters poured gallon after gallon of water on them, slowly bringing the beast to heel. He stood beside one of the massive evergreen oaks that lined the driveway, its branches heavily festooned in mistletoe despite constant efforts to cut it back. Flames soared high into the sky as the original mansion built by Tobias Kayne, a Welsh sea captain turned plantation owner, burned hot and steady, taking with it yet another Kayne woman.

Steve hadn’t wanted to leave her today, that strange sense of doom hanging over him, but she’d insisted. Scotty had his heart set on attending that Little League game in Atlanta. They’d been in the top of the fourth inning when he’d gotten the call—an explosion at Black Oaks, Amy missing.

The speed limit had been irrelevant as they’d raced back to the plantation, stopping at Magnolia Hill where he’d left Scotty with Celia and, with Jeremy by his side, had rushed the last three miles here.

“Steve, this isn’t your fault.” Jeremy held him back. “Maybe she wasn’t in there.”

“Then where the hell is she?” His voice broke on the last word, his cousin’s arms the only thing keeping him on his feet. He pushed Jeremy away. “She would never put Scotty or me through this. If I’d been here, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Michael growled, grabbing his left arm and yanking him around to face him. “Whatever caused the explosion and fire had nothing to do with you. If you’d been here you would’ve gone up in flames, too. That place was full of chemicals, gases, and other materials for the restoration. Someone screwed up—didn’t close a valve all the way. How many times has your night watchman had to chase kids away from here? Maybe one of them knocked something over that mixed with something else with deadly results. It’s tragic, but it happens. We’ve seen it before. Think of your son. He needs you now more than ever.”

Jeremy scoffed. “If this was an accident, I’m the next lottery winner.”

Steve shook his head. Deep down inside, as an architect, he knew houses were nothing but bricks and boards, windows and roofing materials, paint and wallpaper, but damn it, this place had filled him with foreboding from the moment he’d removed the heavy boards blocking the front door, the stale air, strangely reminiscent of that in the crypt they’d opened last year, making his flesh crawl.

According to Uncle Luke, no one had been inside for more than forty years, not since seventeen-year-old Amelia, s distant cousin, had fallen down the stairs and broken her neck. To prevent another accident, the house had been sealed shut until four months ago when this project had started.

Steve didn’t believe in ghosts and curses, even though at least a dozen women had died within its walls, but there was something sinister about the place where the sun never reached. He’d had the oak trees in front of the house trimmed, but that hadn’t dispelled the gloom. Acid roiling in his stomach, he’d begged Amy to reconsider heading this project, but his wife had been as stubborn as they come. Discovering she was pregnant two months ago hadn’t even slowed her down.

Pre-order your copy today!


Don’t forget to check the other post this week!