Wishing you the happiest holidays from our frog tent to yours! See you in the new year!
Monday Mayhem – Diving in
Here we go, kids!
I just turned in the manuscript for LOVE AND ROCKETS (Coastal Heat #3) last night. Wooohoo! What does this mean? It means it’s time for me to get to work on RANSOMED HEART (Warrior #2)!
I’m excited to start on something new, but that doesn’t mean I’m done with the Coastal Heat series. I’m preparing a proposal for two more books in the series, so cross your fingers and toes. I’m also excited because the first book in the series, GOING DEEP, is on sale!
Brooke and Brian started it all. Now they’ll have company as Laney and Harley’s story comes out in April and Jake and Darla’s in October. It’s so much fun to see this world grow to encompass so many new love stories.
A new year means new plans. As 2016 starts, I’m working on 2017 and beyond. I can’t wait to share these new adventures with you!
Merry Christmas!
The greatest gift of all is friendship.
Thank you for giving me yours!
Teaser Tuesday – Lucy Parker
This just in: romance takes center stage as West End theatre’s Richard Troy steps out with none other than castmate Elaine Graham
Richard Troy used to be the hottest actor in London, but the only thing firing up lately is his temper. We all love to love a bad boy, but Richard’s antics have made him Enemy Number One, breaking the hearts of fans across the city.
Have the tides turned? Has English rose Lainie Graham made him into a new man?
Sources say the mismatched pair has been spotted at multiple events, arm in arm and hip to hip. From fits of jealousy to longing looks and heated whispers, onlookers are stunned by this blooming romance.
Could the rumors be right? Could this unlikely romance be the real thing? Or are these gifted stage actors playing us all?
Teaser Tuesday – Marina Myles
Excerpt – CINDERELLA AND THE GHOST
All at once, Ella remembered standing in front of the long-case clock, precisely like this. But how could that be? She must have repressed memories from her visit here as a child. Yet, she couldn’t explain the vision of herself dancing with the handsome man.
Once she confirmed that a life-sized painting wasn’t hanging in the ballroom, she made her way up the grand staircase. Inexplicably, she felt drawn to where she was going. When she reached the second floor of the house, she studied a wall of faded frescoes depicting late seventeenth century life. When something told her to go on, she padded to the third floor landing.
A palpable hush filled the corridor ahead of her. Then a charged stream of energy rushed forward. Since all the curtains were drawn over the arched windows, the hallway sat in darkness and shadow. Ella should be doing so many things. Unpacking. Cleaning. Deciding which bedroom would be hers. But a sense of urgency prompted her feet to continue.
What will I find in this part of the house? Glimpses of the valiant but very dead Jean-Daniel Girard?
Gulping, she opened door after door and peeked in each one. She finally came to a storage space, with an additional staircase leading up to an attic. Creeping up those stairs, she surveyed the articles on the landing. Broken mirrors and articles of furniture draped in white sheets lay strewn about. Tangled strings of cobwebs swathed the wood paneling.
A glowing beam of sunlight angled into the room. Ella’s pulse sped. In the corner, she spotted an item covered with a black cloth. The object reclined against the far wall—and appeared to be larger than she was. Pushing the curtains open, she allowed more sunlight to bathe the space. Hands quivering, she moved back to the draped item and pulled away the black cloth.
The painting’s gilded frame was stunning. On it, Ella located a nameplate.
Jean-Daniel Girard—Viscount de Maincy
1677-1703
Slowly, as though her life was being altered with every centimeter, her stare ascended to the nobleman’s astonishing face and instantly, the world fell into a compelling silence.
Jean-Daniel Girard was tall, muscular, and inarguably handsome. In fact, his striking good looks affected Ella so deeply that she could barely breathe as she gazed upon them. More than that, she knew she’d seen the viscount’s face somewhere before. While she racked her brain about where she’d seen it, her gaze roamed over Jean-Daniel’s sold body, penetrating aquamarine eyes, and angular features. He could be described as classically handsome. The epitome of male beauty, really. And thankfully, that classic quality helped him transcend the fanciful clothing and wig he wore.
Ella took a step in and studied him some more. True to subjects painted in that era, he wasn’t smiling. Rather, he seemed a pensive and a bit melancholy. However, she could tell from the laugh lines bracketing his generous mouth that he grinned often.
Incredibly lifelike, the nobleman seemed capable of emerging from the painting right then and there. Ella’s skin tingled.
Her gaze drifted to the adorable dog sitting at the viscount’s feet. A splendid example of a hound, it possessed a gleaming brown-and-white coated, an open mouth, and a protruding tongue. Oddly, the dog seemed to be smiling.
“I can tell you loved your master,” she murmured.
Mesmerized by the man in the painting, Ella stared at his image for what felt like hours. The more she analyzed it, the more she noticed its “lost soul” quality. She crossed her arms. No, that wasn’t it. Instead, there seemed to be something underlying the viscount’s solemn face. As if he weren’t solemn at all. As if he possessed a sense of unfinished business.
To die so young…
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Teaser Tuesday – Sandra Jones
HIS MOST WANTED
By Sandra Jones
It’ll take more than a badge to get her to confess her secrets.
Kit Wainwright only meant to stop the thief making off with his beloved uncle’s ashes. He wants to hang up his gun, become a law-abiding citizen and leave his violent past behind. But the mayor takes notice of his sharpshooting skills, slaps a badge on his chest and puts him in charge of cleaning up this lawless town. Starting with tracking down the notorious Velvet Grace.
Bordello owner Cora Reilly never meant to become a crusader. But after shooting the last corrupt sheriff in self-defense, she’s spent the last few months turning her hastily donned disguise into a local legend to defend the girls in her town from riff-raff.
There’s no way Cora can trust the handsome new sheriff. Yet Kit’s kisses leave her wanting to open her arms—and her bedroom—to soothe his grief. Even if it brings him too close to the truth that could send her to the gallows.
Warning: Contains a reluctant sheriff with a keen eye for a moving target, and a take-no-crap madam who isn’t about to let him get close. Okay, maybe just a little bit closer. Just this once…
Available in Print and Digital:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/His-Most-Wanted-River-Rogues-ebook/dp/B013HUVF4O/
Barnes & Noble:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/his-most-wanted-sandra-jones/1122473891?ean=9781619226258
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/his-most-wanted
Itunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/his-most-wanted/id1027696511?mt=11
All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-hismostwanted-1873637-162.html
Samhain: https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5635/his-most-wanted
Author Bio
Sandra Jones is a multi-published author of historical romances. A former bookseller and librarian, she’s always had her nose in a book.
When not researching or writing her next novel, she enjoys being with family, reading, cooking for her husband, and watching British TV. At home in the South, her house overlooks a river and a farm, where most days you can find her working to the sounds of wildlife and cattle.
Sandra loves to hear from her readers. Visit her website at www.SandraJonesRomance.com
Author Links
Website: http://www.sandrajonesromance.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sandra-Jones-Author/428923117143918
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SJonesRomance
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/SandraJones
Teaser:
The gun, still warm from shooting the sheriff, fit just right against Cora Lynn Reilly’s ribs, wedged beneath her breasts between her corset and her blouse. Her heart thundered like a cannonball as she looked for a way to exit the room that wouldn’t require going near the body on the floor, but unfortunately, there wasn’t one. The sound of the blast would likely bring someone upstairs to check on the man, and she couldn’t be caught alone with him.
Balancing on her toes to miss the blood spreading across the boards, she stepped over the first booted leg, her skirt spanning Bill Sidlow’s bloated thighs. She lifted her hem to avoid dragging her petticoat across the man’s torso, now damp and crimson, and set her left foot down with care between his side and his spread-eagle arm.
Don’t look, don’t look. But morbid curiosity got the better of her. She had to be absolutely certain the bastard was dead, so she glanced down at Sidlow’s face. His sightless eyes stared back at her, familiar enough to make a frisson of terror run down her spine again after he’d cornered her against his apartment wall with demands of sex.
“Shoulda known better,” she scolded beneath her breath. But whether she’d directed her words at the sheriff or herself, she wasn’t sure.
He gave no response, his flaccid mouth and sagging jowls glistened with spittle—no different than in life, she supposed. When he’d visited the club earlier that night, he’d pulled her aside to invite her here to his place for a private word, and even then his breath against her ear had been wet and disgusting.
She’d assumed he wanted to talk about business away from the girls and their customers, because if he’d wanted to make any advances of a sexual nature, where better than the Willows, the popular social club she owned on the Row? But she’d been wrong. The sheriff had wanted more than to talk. He’d wanted to take, and that was something Cora wouldn’t allow.
Now, one mistake and a bullet later, she had to get out of his apartment fast before anyone found her here.
Tearing her stare away from the sheriff ’s corpse, she set her body in motion for the door, but the sudden tread of boots on the stairs outside stopped her in her tracks.
“Sheriff? Was that your gun I heard?” Mrs. Murphy, wife of the boarding house owner, called from a short distance below.
Cora’s pulse raced. She scanned the room again. There was a window, but she didn’t
recall seeing a way down. She was certain no one else had seen her enter the building. She couldn’t let Mrs. Murphy find her now, for who would believe a bordello madam who’d shot the sheriff with her pearl-handled pistol in his own bedroom?
No way would she allow anyone to hang her for the likes of Bill Sidlow. She’d never shot anyone else in her life and hadn’t even taken her gun out of its case before tonight. The only reason she’d brought the weapon was in case she was accosted by one of the drunks in the streets outside.
Besides, her girls needed her. Especially now that there would be no one to keep the town’s worst ruffians from their doorstep, and God knew, Fort McNamara had its share of those.
She swept another glance around the room for something she could cloak herself in. The bed was stripped to the sheet, but a long blue velvet drapery hung above the lone window. It would have to do.
A knock sounded at the door. “Sheriff? You all right?” Mrs. Murphy asked again.
Cora vaulted over the body and yanked the heavy fabric from the rod. Returning to the door, she swirled the drape around her head and shoulders until she’d fully cocooned herself, then she waited for a chance to escape.
The door metal rattled. When Mrs. Murphy peeked in, Cora threw her weight against the wood panel, knocking the woman outside off balance, and then barreled past. She descended the stairs, running as fast as she could in the tight wind of her drapery cloak.
As she reached the front door of the boarding house, she heard the woman’s shriek of horror at discovering her boarder’s remains. “Murder! Help, the sheriff ’s been murdered!”
Bursting outside into the darkened street, she kept to the shadows, holding the fabric closed at her neck as she dodged drunken cowboys looking for good times. She averted her face, praying no one would recognize her until she made it back to the bordello.
One thing she knew for certain, after this night, she had better get used to carrying her pistol.
Teaser Tuesday – Jen Crane
Rare Form
Descended of Dragons, Book 1
by Jen Crane
Purchase Rare Form:
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A Secret Past
Fiery redhead Stella Stonewall can’t decide between a margarita and a manhattan.
The rest of her life? Please. Stella has never really fit in, and her pretty world comes crashing down when she learns it was never her world at all.
Rowan Gresham is domineering, brooding, and as sexy as chocolate-dipped sin. When he transports Stella to the magical realm of her parents she recognizes her rightful place immediately. Gresham’s motivations are less clear.
A Scorching Chemistry
The enigmatic Gresham aids in Stella’s metamorphosis and their chemistry ignites, though a long-time girlfriend and a significant age difference stand in the way.
A Battle for the Rest of Her Life
Stella’s life fast-tracks to extraordinary when she enrolls at Radix Citadel for Supernatural Learning, an enchanted college whose students turn furry on the regular. As Stella learns to navigate the magical new world of Thayer she must also find her animal form, a task as elusive as her ancestry. Stella soon faces an even greater challenge: staying alive long enough to learn to manipulate an animal form she never knew she possessed.
In this scene Stella runs into her newfound mentor Rowan Gresham
at a school mixer. This time he has company.
“Mmm-hmmm,” I hummed playfully. Riling Rowan Gresham up was just too easy. Was I flirting? Maybe.
My attempt to hide my grin behind a sip of my drink was unsuccessful, and the tension soon left his shoulders. As I inquired further about Gresham’s “special projects,” I caught sight of a lovely brunette in her late thirties as she approached him from behind. She ran her hand through Gresham’s arm and clasped his bicep possessively.
“Hello,” she said coolly. “I’m Livia Miles.”
She pronounced this la-VEE-yah. Her gray eyes were sharp and assessing as she took in my proximity to Gresham. I backed up a step instinctively. She extended a bony hand, and I took the time to do a little assessing of my own. Now, I like to consider myself fairly well-groomed, but Livia was the type of woman who always looked…pristine. Her nails were perfectly manicured, and the shine on her toe polish caused me to blink. Her smooth skin had obviously been exfoliated and buffed to perfection, her makeup was flawless, if on the heavy side. Her jewelry was tasteful and expensive, and her hair…god, her long brown curls absolutely gleamed reflecting the overhead lights. A tight black lace dress revealed a runner’s legs and no breasts to speak of, thank the good lord for small mercies.
“Livia, this is Stella Stonewall,” Gresham put in. “Stella is a primos, and will likely be in your department’s Intro to Craft and Ritual class.”
“I know who she is, Gresham,” she said icily.
“Oh, uhm… Nice to meet you, Professor Miles,” I stumbled. “Craft? I’m sorry; Orientation is tomorrow. I know very little about the coursework here.”
“Dean Miles,” she corrected. “Craft. The art and science of causing change in accordance with one’s will.”
I must have looked as clueless as I felt, because she turned to Gresham.
“Ugh. Rowan. She is an imbecile. Wherever did you find her, and what moron allowed her into this institution? If this is the caliber of student my department is expected to instruct, I…”
“Stella is new to our ways, as you know, Livia,” Gresham growled. “She is a bright young woman, and will catch on quickly, I am sure, with the help of exceptional teachers like you.”
To this obvious schmoozing, Livia seemed appeased. I had a sneaking suspicion he had just saved me from some serious in-class discrimination.
I couldn’t recall the last time I had been so flagrantly insulted. Fifteen responses and backhanded insults raced through my mind, as did a speedy synopsis of my circumstances—new town, new school, new teacher. Don’t make enemies, I told myself. Swallow your pride. Hold your tongue.
But the fact was I had real difficulty with those particular virtues.
Teaser Tuesday – Seducing Steve Sale!
Get your clicky finger ready!
To celebrate next week’s release of Going Deep, I’m making Seducing Steve FREE on Amazon September 10-14, 2015!
EXCERPT:
“So, I asked you here for a reason.”
Steve cocked his head as he took the bottle of beer Sara offered. She tucked one leg under her bottom and sank onto the couch next to him, sitting a little closer to him than normal. He swallowed hard and did his best to ignore the fission of electricity that danced up his arm when her sleeve brushed his. All in all, he was pretty proud of himself for not flinching or jerking away. He’d honed his defenses a long time ago.
He set his beer aside and raised the lid on the pizza box. “Not because you wanted me to buy your dinner and let you torment me with whatever chick flick was mailed directly to your door?”
“Those would be the surface reasons.” She used the hem of her sweater to twist the cap from her bottle. “There’s a deeper reason.”
Swallowing hard, he focused his attention on liberating a loaded slice of pizza from its cardboard confines. God, he loved that little flash of hip and bare belly. “Oh yeah?”
“I want to talk to you about my next book.”
Ignoring the impulse to touch, he lifted the slice and prepared to take a bite. “What about it?”
“I need your help.”
He cast a puzzled glance in her direction. “My help? I’m not a writer. Why would you need my help?”
Sara lounged against the cushion. He resisted the urge to fidget under her steady gaze. A prickling sensation crept up the back of his neck.
“The story I’m working on has a friends-to-lovers angle.”
The statement struck him with only slightly less impact than Sharon Stone’s infamous leg-crossing scene. Friends-to-lovers. Holy shit.
“We’ve been friends a long time.”
She threw that line out there like an expert fly fisherman. Woman. Whatever. It just dangled there, waiting for him to take the bait. He shot her a wary glance and leaned forward, preparing to take a giant bite of his pizza. “Yeah. So?”
“I thought you might help me with the sex.”
He choked and sputtered. A piece of pepperoni lodged in his windpipe. She gave his back a solicitous pat, but the shift in proximity only made his throat close up more.
“I’m sorry, bad timing.”
Her hand slid up to his shoulder. His fingers went lax and the slice slipped from his grip, landing in the box with a splat. Graceful fingers curled into the muscle, kneading the knot of tension at the base of his neck. Her touch had the same effect it always did—his brain stutter-stepped, his breathing slowed, and his cock stirred. He was almost pleased to note there was nothing new there. He could handle this. He’d been handling inappropriate thoughts about his best friend for years.
He washed the pizza down with a healthy pull from his bottle of beer. He gasped, lowering the bottle. “Sex?”
His dick perked, prepared to sit up and beg on command. He stretched one leg, hoping to make an unobtrusive adjustment to the denim biting into his crotch.
“You remember sex, don’t you?”
The husky tease did little to slow his racing pulse. “Vaguely.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as his mind raced. Her fingers slipped into his hair and his Johnson all but stood up and cried ‘Hallelujah!’ Desperate, he grabbed the pizza box and hauled it onto his lap, hoping mounds of cheesy sausage would camouflage the pepperoni threatening to burst from his jeans. “We don’t talk about sex.”
Sara scooted closer still, angling her body toward his, and he stopped breathing altogether. “I need to talk to someone about it.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex.”
He glanced at her. Her blue eyes shone with earnest intensity. He was glad for the cardboard buffer between them. “Why me? Isn’t there a, uh, girlfriend, or maybe your mom…”
“I need a man’s perspective on things. A friend’s, so I can figure out how the transition would go.”
“Transition?”
“From friends to lovers.”
He gaped at her as she gently pried the box from his grasp and set it aside. His cheeks flushed, and he feared they glowed as red as his hair. “What kind of things do you want to know?”
“Haven’t you ever thought about it?”
“Thought about what?” he asked, though he knew damn well what she meant.
“Steve, how long have we been friends?”
His brow puckered. Wavering between fight and flight and wishing ‘fuck’ was on his list of options, he shook his head in disbelief.
“I don’t know… Eight, nine years?”
“And how many times have we come close to kissing?”
His heart stopped beating. A well-worn montage of near-kisses flashed in his mind’s eye. “We don’t kiss.”
“We don’t kiss because we both know once we start, we won’t want to stop.”
Teaser Tuesday – Julie Anne Lindsey
Teaser Tuesday: A Geek Girl’s Guide to Murder by Julie Anne Lindsey
I dashed my coffee with cinnamon and grabbed a little wooden stir paddle. Bernie’s blog was right. There was trouble at the clubhouse. I pressed the cup to my lips and inhaled tendrils of bitter steam. My eyes slid shut while I counted to ten and organized my thoughts. What exactly were residents receiving in email? Whatever it was, it hadn’t come from me and I doubted it came from the clubhouse system. Could they be lying? How many complaints were there?
A long shadow overtook me.
My lids popped open, and I jumped to attention, stuffing swollen feet back into their luxurious torture devices.
The shadow had a stiff-looking man in his midthirties at the end of it. “Mia Connors?” His voice was deep with a hint of Southern charm.
Hmm. White dress shirt. Shiny shoes. “Are you a cop or a salesman?” I squinted through foggy glasses and set my coffee aside. “I met with our software rep last week, and we’re all up-to-date on licensing, so I guess cop.” Cops wore uniforms and carried twenty extra pounds but, for some inexplicable reason, most men liked being mistaken for one. He was definitely new to Horseshoe Falls. Resident? Guest?
He frowned. “I look like a cop?”
I wasn’t expecting the frown. I gave him another long look. The light bulb flickered on in my scrambled brain. “Oh.” I dug into my handbag, searching for my business cards. “Are you looking for some technical assistance?” I stage-winked. Detailed internet research was my specialty. If the information existed, I could find, compile and deliver it with great discretion. For a reasonable fee.
“Technical assistance?”
“Sure. Online. I can clean up anything you need or get details on anything you want.”
He tented his brows.
I backpedaled. “Research is a passion of mine.”
He shifted foot to foot and stretched a hand in my direction. “Before you say anything else and this conversation takes a whole new turn, I need to introduce myself. I’m Jake Archer. I’m the new Horseshoe Falls Head of Security.”
“You’re not wearing a uniform.” I gave him another once-over. “Why are you in a suit?”
“It’s my first day. I’d hoped to make an impression. Disappointed?”
Disgusted with my lack of insight. Of course he was the new guy. Bernie described him on her blog. Handsome. Sullen. “I thought you’d be more brooding.”
He slouched forward and looked at me with narrow eyes. Like I wasn’t making any sense. Which I wasn’t.
I pinched my lips between my teeth. “I mean, someone said you were brooding. Not me.” I flailed mentally. “Not brooding.” Swarms of staffers rushed past us. The meeting was over.
A nervous laugh bubbled up, and I tamped it down. “I meant serious. You’re very serious. Probably in cop mode. Security mode? I’m sure you’re not at all brooding. I’ve got to go.” Ugh. I turned away, stuffing napkins and sugar packets into my bag for later. I’d finish mixing my coffee behind the safety of my office door.
He followed me down the narrow hall toward the line of employee offices, easily matching his pace to mine. “Anything you want to tell me?”
“I sometimes help people erase things they don’t want online. I also help them with research. I thought you were approaching me for my help.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope.”
“Why’d you assume I was a cop?”
“Or a salesman.” I slowed my pace, relieved to reach my office door. “It was just a guess. You know, like when you go to a restaurant or a party and someone catches your attention, so you make up what you think they’re saying, what they do for a living and why they’re there. Then you get closer to see if you’re right.”
Jake blinked. “No.”
Of course not. Normal people didn’t do that kind of thing. Socially awkward girls with insane imaginations did. “Well, anyway. This is my office.” I turned my back to the door, hoping he wouldn’t follow me inside. “I’ve got work to do if I want to get the system’s problems worked out before we’re all fired, and I’m having a rough day anyway so…”
He didn’t make a move to leave.
My heart stammered. Why was he grilling me like this? I couldn’t take confrontation. I babbled. I behaved stupidly. I filled quiet moments with my personal brand of crazy.
Two seconds later, I caved. “First, some jack—someone took my parking space, and now I have to fix whatever has happened to the email system or lose my job.” I exhaled deeply. “You should go.”
His scrutinizing blue eyes pierced me to the door. “Why do I make you nervous?”
I tugged at the neckline of my dress to circulate the suffocating air and chomped on the inside of both cheeks. You’re too close. Asking a whole heck of a lot of questions and way too close. My fingers curled at my side. I shut my eyes and cried out to the Universe, Help!
“Nothing else you want to tell me?”
I rolled the back of my head against the office door. “Uh-uh.”
A Geek Girl’s Guide to Murder, The Geek Girl Mysteries, book 1
IT manager Mia Connors is up to her tortoiseshell glasses in technical drama when a glitch in the Horseshoe Falls email system disrupts security and sends errant messages to residents of the gated community. The snafu’s timing couldn’t be worse—Renaissance Faire season is in full swing and Mia’s family’s business relies on her presence.
Mia doesn’t have time to hunt down a computer hacker. Her best friend has disappeared, and she finds another of her friends murdered—in her office. When the hunky new head of Horseshoe Falls security identifies Mia as the prime suspect, her anxiety level registers on the Richter scale.
Eager to clear her name, Mia moves into action to locate her missing buddy and find out who killed their friend. But her quick tongue gets her into trouble with more than the new head of security. When Mia begins receiving threats, the killer makes it clear that he’s closer than she’d ever imagined.
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About Julie:
Julie Anne Lindsey is a multi-genre author who writes the stories that keep her up at night. She’s a self-proclaimed nerd with a penchant for words and proclivity for fun. Julie lives in rural Ohio with her husband and three small children. Today, she hopes to make someone smile. One day she plans to change the world.
Learn About Julie at:
Julieannelindsey.com
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Teaser Tuesday – Mary Carter
Will Ava finally step up and step out?
Ava Wilder’s home in small-town Iowa is her sanctuary. A talented sketch artist with severe agoraphobia, Ava spends her days drawing a far more adventurous life than her invisible disability allows. Until she receives a package from London, explaining that she has inherited her Aunt Beverly’s entire estate—on condition that she lives in Bev’s West End flat for a year.
Once overseas, Ava wonders if she’s simply swapped one prison for another. The streets and shops are intimidating, and Bev’s home appears to be a drop-in center for local eccentrics. Worst of all, Bev left a list of impossible provisos to be overseen by her quirky, attractive solicitor. Ava is expected to go out—to experience clubs, pubs, and culture; to visit Big Ben, Hyde Park, and the London Eye. After years of viewing the world through a pane of glass, she’s at the messy, complicated center of it. As exhilarated as she is terrified, will she be able to step up, step out, and claim the life she was meant for?
Buy now at Amazon!