Jenna Mitchell has spent her adult life under the control of her husband, her dreams of owning her own bakery pushed aside. But at twenty-eight, she's finally ready to reclaim her life and pursue her passion. Well… almost.
With the unwavering support of the Sensational Six—her close-knit group of friends—Jenna can finally envision a day where she is in charge of her own destiny, a big step forward for her. As she works at her friend’s café, Jenna begins to discover the strength and courage she needs to break free from her past and begin focusing on her future.
But can she quiet the echoes that keep finding their way back to her? Will the doubts they’ve created make it impossible for her to see—and trust—the path forward before her chance at a better life slips through her flour-dusted fingers?
Fans of Rachel Hanna will enjoy this warm and uplifting story about self-discovery, finding the courage to start anew, and the unbreakable bonds of chosen family.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
I was sifting powdered sugar over a just-cooled apple strudel when my husband called from county jail. Leaning over the tiny kitchen table in my tiny new apartment above the café where I worked, I was imagining myself with my apron-covered hip propped against a gleaming stainless steel table, putting the finishing touches on a last-minute order that had come in through my bakery’s website. Back and forth with the sifter… downy, white flakes danced around each other as they floated and settled into their resting places.
B-r-r-r-r-r-t
The rumble of the phone against the white laminate broke me from my time-worn daydream. I reached up to adjust the white baker’s cap that existed only in my mind, pressed pause on my dream, and shook my head to clear it. When I read the caller ID, my stomach folded in on itself.
‘Collect call’
Craig.
I took a deep breath that settled in my chest and refused to return. I set the sifter down on a nearby dish and picked up my phone. For a moment, just a moment, I held it in my hand and considered letting him go to voicemail. But a lifetime of experience told me that ignoring a man who will not be ignored would only delay the inevitable.
"Hello?" I said, forcing the air from my lungs.
My husband’s out-of-touch politician's voice poured through the phone. “Jenna, sweetheart. Are you busy?” Without waiting for me to answer, he continued. “I need you to do me a favor, baby. Can you please come down here and bail me out? I can’t sit here for one more day.”
I shifted the phone to my other ear and wrapped my free arm around my waist as I paced the twenty steps it took to reach the other end of my apartment and back. He wasn’t going to like my reply. "Craig, I just don't think I can do that. I don't have the money for it right now. I'm sorry."
This was apparently not the answer he was expecting, because, as expected, his demeanor slipped from the fake, sticky sweetness of corn syrup to hot, burning rage faster than a falling soufflé. "You're sorry? You're sorry? Be sorry that you haven't already come down here to get me. I'm your husband, Jenna. Remember the vows you took? Love, honor, and obey?"
Recognizing the opening line to the endless refrain of our marriage, I pulled a chair away from my kitchen table and willed my shaky legs to deposit me safely into it.
"Yes, I do remember, Craig. But I still can't afford to come and bail you out right now. I have expenses I need to think about."
The sound of what I could only assume was the phone bashing against a hard surface assaulted my eardrum. "You have expenses because you decided to leave our home and go live above that — that woman's café."
"That woman is my boss, and my friend," I reminded him, "and she’s been nice enough to let me stay here."
"You don't need to stay there," Craig argued back. "What you need to do is come and get me so we can go home together where we belong.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR:
Jess Ames is knocking on the door of fifty, but has the sense of humor of a twelve year old and the body of a fifty-four-year-old (according to her fitness app).
She is “mama” to nine, “mimi” to four, “friend” to all, an adequate wife, and living the dream of the little girl who wanted to be a writer when she grew up.
They are both still waiting for that moment, so she’s writing in the meantime.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish
Promotions. Christopher Kaufman will be awarding $45 worth of digital
products from his website to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner
to see the other stops on the tour.
A young civilization is turning the corner into the
future, but first they must face a terrible enemy from their deepest past - The
Vorm..
The main characters are a young man named Harl’ut and his
lifelong companion Vispushin - who is a perIanth, a kind of telepathic pegasus.
Join them on this epic adventure as they lead a group of young warriors into
the heart of the Vorm Hive.
Book One: Battle In The Sky is the first of five books which
comprise the opening series of this epic tale. Here, Harl’ut and Vispushin and
The Princess Bryn’lynn, engage in desperate battle over the southern plain with
savage Vorm warriors. You will be uplifted by the passionate and thrilling
conclusion of the first installment of this fantasy adventure.
Book Two: Descent Into The Abyss, Harl’ut recovers from his
harrowing adventure from Book One: Battle In The Sky. He walks through the
streets of The Ocean City, visits the Sculpture Garden and his friend, Elá, the
bard, and engages in exciting training games with warrior/mentor, Calanctus.
Then the story takes you down the throat of the vast volcano, Pla’than’taa,
once worshipped as a god, where Harl’ut enacts a deadly initiation ritual,
confronts the barbaric past of his people and battles a terrifying monster.
Read an Excerpt
Next to the eerie bulk of the WarChief alit the most
impressive of all Perianths, the silver-maned stallion, Zhi’ga’fra. On his back
was a man, lean and tall, his skin a deep burnt-orange color. Light green armor
adorned his body. Whitish hair sprouted from under a simple gold helm. A mystical
spray of light refracted from a bright green diamond prism in place of his left
eye.
Verden, the ancient warrior who served as war-leader of
Pla’than’taa, should such be needed, dismounted Zhi’ga’fra and pulled from the
hideous bulk his green lance. He cleaned it on the tall grass next to the lake
and looked about him. The WarChief’s remains were now collapsed in a heap, but
Verdin noticed movement.
He went to it, kicked around, he saw the bulbous antennae on
the WarChief’s head pulsing like a beacon. He drew a green coral blade from his
sash, cut out the grotesque tentacle and tossed it, now lifeless, beside the
wrack.
He felt a crushing weight of sadness fall upon him. He
looked over to see Zhi’ga’fra, standing over the body of Zhii’gla, his son.
Verdin sighed, “I am so sorry dear friend... he was a great
being... and died a tremendous warrior...” in response he felt from Zhi’ga’fra
only a complex wave of grief, almost beyond even his ability to translate in
his mind...“There will be more strife Zhi'ga'fra... I see war ahead.“
“Yes...as do I,” echoed the great creature, “These...
things...Perianth’s have fought them before...long ago... an age past...I
believe your race has encountered them as well...” Imagery now streamed in
Verdin’s inner eye as he glimpsed the scenes flowing in Zhi’ga’fra’s mind.
“We thought they were all destroyed...we call them... the
VORM...they are hideous and evil...and incredibly dangerous if their hive is
reformed.”
About the Author:
Christopher Kaufman is an author, composer,
presenter, illustrative artist and performer. He started imaginative fantasy
books with illustrative art at the age of nine. During high school years he
found music and attended The New Orleans Center for The Creative Arts and went
on to major in music composition in college. He finished his schooling - earning
his DMA in music composition at Cornell University where he studied with
Pulitzer Prize Winning composers who prize his abilities as a composer.
Christopher is the type of person who needs imaginative
fantasy scenarios to get to sleep. Therefore, he emerged from Cornell, not only
with his degrees in music, but with the full event structure for his classic
epic fantasy series Tales Of The Ocean City in his mind.
He began writing the story down in the early 2000’s, but it
did not really come to life until he developed his home music ‘laboratory’ and
started creating the music and text at the same time. Thus books one and two of
TOC came about simultaneously as both graphically illustrated pages and
effulgent audio albums filled with cinematic epic symphonic music.
They exist now as physical books and audio albums (that go
together) and the new Video Book version. He performs live tours with the music
pouring through speakers, live narration and the colorful pages streaming on
screen -a true immersive multi-media experience.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish
Promotions to celebrate the release day of ONLY IN SEPTEMBER by
Cynthia Flowers. Cynthia will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a
randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the
tour.
When Jacqueline follows her
trusty Labrador Bailey down a hidden path to the beach, she's unaware that her
vacation plans on a small island off the New England coast has already taken
her life in a new direction. Running into an unassuming local beach comber
stirs new thoughts, desires, and a self-determination she never knew she
possessed. Jacqueline will need to trust her instincts and make the most of
what fate has in store if she wants the future that, until now, she has only
dared to dream of.
Read an Excerpt
The ferry was taking its sweet time making its way to Block
Island.
Time is the ultimate dictator. Where did I hear that? I
couldn’t have just come up with that one on my own.
Jacqueline French grabbed one of the last outside seats on
the Block Island Ferry. It had only left Point Judith, RI, ten minutes ago, but
for her, it seemed like ten hours ago. This would be her fourth September
visiting this tiny tear drop-shaped island nestled between the south coast of
Rhode Island and Montauk Point, located at the eastern tip of the south fork of
Long Island, New York.
She always preferred visiting Block Island this time of
year, after many of the Labor Day vacation stragglers dispersed and the kids
were back at school. Although there were still a fair number of visitors, the
din of racing mopeds was confined mostly to the weekends. Thanks to Michael,
who she met on her first trip to Block Island, she came to know virtually every
back road and trail on this seven-mile-long by three-mile-wide island. Beyond
its beauty, Jacqueline’s deeper connection with the island was its shape. She
shed many tears lately over the fate of her marriage and the direction her life
had taken.
She always brought Bailey, her chocolate Labrador retriever,
on her September sojourns to Block Island. Bailey enjoyed seeing the seals
every year, and they seemed curious about her. But Bailey had become too
arthritic to make the trip this year.
About the Author: Cynthia Flowers, a
recently retired advertising professional, now grant writer, resides with her
husband and four-year old Labrador named Eddie, at their “sanctuary” in Upstate
New York, Although previously published, this is Cynthia's first book of
fiction. Early on in grade school, Cynthia looked forward to creative writing
class and enjoyed reading her stories aloud to her eager classmates.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish
Promotions. Joanie Olson will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card
to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on
the tour.
Searching for an answer to a question you haven't
asked yet? You are not alone. One small realization and a whole world
unravels.
Woven through these pages are a series of my most
significant life events relating to narcissistic victim/survivor syndrome.
Inside are keys unlocking mysteries of complex PTSD, compounded through various
forms of abuse.
A journey of highs, like the Freedom Convoy, and the lows of
a failed longtime marriage. With spiritual forces at work behind the scenes,
could a Christian home have so many secrets? The smoke will clear to reveal our
true mirrored self.
Read an Excerpt
I was paralyzed, not just by fear but by dread and over
exhaustion. It felt as though given the opportunity I could sleep for days, yet
struggled to find rest. I relied on prescribed meds, and the morning was
showing the outcome of dependence. Irish cream was a favorite to put in my
first cups of coffee for added motivation. As nice as this hotel was, there was
no minibar to ease the angst.
I was immobilized, unable to move, begging God to take me.
How can I do this? How can I manage the full brunt of this day without any of
the vices that helped me survive for some time?
I turned on the TV, made some hotel room coffee and laid
there motionless, praying for the Lord to take me home. A text came in from my
office manager, Sharon, a reserved woman who I had a sincere bond with. She
encouraged me daily, and I valued her advice.
“Hey girlie, how are you doing over there?”
My response was as she suspected. She knew how hard the
meetings were for me. She was my closest confidant, a friend that sticks closer
than a brother. Such a blessing to me, she was gifted with an ear to listen,
non-judgmental and caring. She loved me and I loved her right back.
I told her about forgetting my pills and couldn’t get out of
bed. I couldn’t do anything. Her response was comforting. She said, “Then
don’t, don’t go. Do what you need to do. Take care of yourself and don’t worry
about the rest.” Her approval in this seemed to sooth my soul. She made me
self-aware that I DID have the power to not go if I didn’t want to. I could
just say I wasn’t feeling well, but something inside me won’t give up. I can’t
give in to negative, intrusive thoughts just waiting for my demise.
About the Author: Joanie was raised on a
farm in Saskatchewan, Canada. Life revolved around chores, school and church.
Six older siblings and all the nieces and nephews added up to a large family.
Strong in doctrine and armed with a passion for truth, she's
walked the walk of faith, facing challenges to overcome. She was married at 19,
became a mother to a stepdaughter, and later birthed two children. Following
years of turmoil in her marriage, she hit the inevitable breaking point.
Starting life over, she attended broadcasting college, going
on to anchor morning news for the airwaves. Feeling isolated and rejected, her
drive to help others who have gone through similar circumstances inspired this
book. Through the Refiners fire, she's ready to share tools required to escape
the fake and embrace the truth.
To celebrate A Dilemma for the
Duke's release, I'm thrilled to join the
A Marriage to the Marquess
book tour. USA Bestselling author Ruth A. Casie combines regency romance with
suspense, swoon-worthy heros and smart heroines. Check out an excerpt below and
be sure to take advantage of pre-release pricing for book two.
In a world of secrets,
love, and ticking clocks, their alliance of convenience may just become a
marriage of the heart.
Ewan,
the Marquess of Glenraven, finds himself returning to his home in Belgrave
Square, summoned back to London by his former commanding officer, Lord
Barrington. Ewan’s been entrusted with the task of unraveling a deceitful
gambling scheme and uncovering the truth behind the mysterious deaths tied to
it. He is also faced with a pressing personal ultimatum: either secure his
trust by marrying by his 30th birthday, five weeks hence, or risk losing it
all.
In Cavendish Square, a mile north of Belgravia,
Lady Juliet Hayward carries the heavy burden of her late brother, Bradley’s
gambling debts. Her own future teeters on the brink of destitution. Determined
to confront the man who has her brother’s vowels and control of her survival,
she’s determined to find him and negotiate a solution.
As Ewan and Juliet are drawn together, they conceal their true intentions,
not knowing they both seek the one person who holds the cards. However, time is
not on their side. In a bold move, they confess to each other and devise a
plan—a marriage of convenience, a calculated business arrangement—to simultaneously
fulfill Ewan’s inheritance requirement, settle Juliet’s brother’s debts, and
expose the scheming ringleader As they dig deeper, they uncover a far-reaching
conspiracy, orchestrated by a clandestine organization manipulating events from
behind the scenes. Yet, a single kiss on their wedding day unleashes a deluge
of conflicting emotions within each of them, shattering their carefully
constructed façade.
This is a
breathtaking Regency tale of love, sacrifice, and the resilience of the human
spirit.
“Oh, sir, could you help us, please?” A neatly
dressed man called out to him from the puppet stage.
The crowd, which he realized had gathered waiting
for the puppet show, turned their attention toward him.
Glenraven scanned the area, unsure if the gentleman
was calling out to him. He glanced back at the man.
“Yes, sir, you. You look like a man who would help
a lady in distress.” A soft chuckle rippled through the onlookers. “It is a
simple script that needs to be read.”
“Forgive me. I would gladly help a lady in
distress.” Glenraven glanced at the crowd. “I see some lovely ladies.” He
nodded to several ladies not too far from him. “But I do not see any ladies in
distress.”
The man operating the puppet stage peeked under the
curtain. “My lady. Are you in distress?” he called out.
“Yes, my lord,” came a voice from behind the
curtain. As the puppet master opened the curtain, a female puppet was revealed.
“I have no Punch.”
Glenraven checked his watch. It was ten minutes
past one. “Ne’er let it be said that I didn’t come to a lady’s aid.”
Glenraven made his way to the stage to the crowd’s
chuckling and applauding.
“Thank you, my lord. Thank you.” the puppet master
whispered to him before turning to address the audience.
“Kind people. I am the puppet master, Percival
Thimbleby. You’ve already met Miss Juliet Hayward, who will be our Judy. She
has taken her place. This is,” the puppet master turned to Glenraven and
waited. He coughed and waited a bit more. “And this is?” He raised his eyebrows
at his Punch.
With a good natured smile, he slightly bowed to the
audience. “Lord Glenraven at your service.”
“My lord.” The puppet master doffed his cap and
bowed to him. “Ladies and Gents, we have a real hero,” he added with a playful
eye roll, making everyone laugh. “Lord Glenraven will be playing our Punch. We
are fortunate to have found two willing people to help us today. They do not
know what has happened in the story so far. It will be very telling how they
portray this scene. Be gentle with my actors, my friends. I dare say they are
new to this trade. We want to encourage them. Who knows, you may witness the
beginning of a most enchanting partnership.”
The puppet master turned to Glenraven. “This way,
my lord. While you and your Judy say your lines, I will manage the
puppets.”
He guided Glenraven to his spot, handed him his
script, and then returned to address the audience.
Glenraven glanced at the paper and burst into
laughter, the sound echoing for all to hear.
“Are you all right, my lord?” the puppet master
called out.
“Quite. I see you are also a magician. For us
mortals, the script is blank.”
The audience laughed along with him, clearly in on
the jest.
“Well, my lord. I am a poor puppet master. I only
had one script and, as a gallant puppet master, gave it to your Judy as I know
you would want me to. After all, you are a gallant hero.”
“Yes, I am.” Glenraven chuckled. “I accept the
challenge. You, my friend, may have to suffer the consequences.”
“Very well, my lord. I am certain your quick wit
and heroism will come to the fore.” Again, the audience chuckled.
The puppet master turned to the audience.
“I will set the stage. Punch has brought back a
treasure and must convince his Judy to let him keep it.” The puppet master
paused. “Punch. You can begin whenever you are ready.”
Glenraven took a moment, cleared his throat, and
began with a theatrical flair.
“Oh, Judy, my love.” Glenraven’s voice, a warm
whiskey baritone, rang out. “I have fought hard and long. I’ve brought back a
treasure. It must be protected at all costs.” He paused a heartbeat and
continued, his voice a bit lower, “I won’t let anyone take it from
us!”
“But Punch, dear, we must be careful.” His Judy’s
voice was sweet and slightly breathless. “There are those who covet what we
have.”
“Fear not, my sweet Judy.” Glenraven’s Punch
declared with theatrical bravado. “I’ll stand against them all, even if it
means facing the darkest of contenders.”
He imagined Judy gazing at Punch as she went on,
her voice sweet and a touch unsteady, “Then let us be strong together, my
Punch. Our love will guide us through.”
Glenraven stared at the curtain separating him from
his Judy and put the papers down. He focused all his attention on his unseen
partner.
“And when the storm clouds gather,” Punch
continued, his tone filled with anticipation, “and the world around us seems
uncertain...” A dramatic pause lingered. “We’ll find shelter in each other’s
arms, and our hearts will be our fortress. But, Judy, my love,” Punch’s voice
softened, “there’s one thing you must know. Our journey won’t always be
easy.”
The puppet master skillfully moved Punch to Judy’s
side, his puppet arm around her.
“I understand, Punch. I’m prepared to face whatever
challenges lie ahead.”
“Then, my dear Judy, let us embark on this
adventure together, hand in hand.” The puppet master had Punch take Judy’s
hand.
“Together, we’ll find the strength to conquer all,”
Judy declared.
“And as we travel through life’s mysterious twists
and turns...” Punch turned his head and looked around. “We’ll uncover the
secrets hidden in the shadows, and they shall not hold us back. Judy, my love,”
Punch’s tone deepened with passion, “desire burns within me like an
unquenchable fire.”
Judy delicately touched Punch’s face. “And what of
commitment, Punch? Will your flames endure, or will they be snuffed
out?”
“Fear not, dear Judy,” Even the audience could hear
the smile in Punch’s voice, “for desire may kindle our passion, but it’s a
commitment that fuels our eternal flame.”
“Then let our love burn brighter than the stars,
Punch, for we are bound by both desire and commitment.”
This little game excited Glenraven in ways he
hadn’t anticipated. The essence of sincerity he heard in ‘Judy’s’ voice warmed
him. The more he spoke, the more the line between him and his Punch
blurred.
Absurd. He gave himself a mental shake. This puppet
performance is only a game. Judy isn’t the only one capable of playing a
believable game.
“So, my love,” Punch said tenderly, “let us dance
through the pages and write our own story, bound by fate and love.”
“Forever entwined, together we’ll craft our own
destiny. It awaits, Punch, my dearest.” There was a pause. “Forever,” was
Judy’s breathless reply.
RUTH A. CASIE is a USA
Today bestselling author of historical swashbuckling action-adventures and
contemporary romance with enough action to keep you turning pages. Her stories
feature strong women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and all. She
lives in New Jersey with her hero, three empty bedrooms and a growing number of
incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she found her voice, she was a
speech therapist (pun intended), client liaison for a corrugated manufacturer,
and vice president at an international bank where she was a product/marketing
manager, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now-writing romance. She
hopes her stories become your favorite adventures.
