Arabella Sheraton grew up on a diet of Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, and many other writers of that period. From Jane Austen to Georgette Heyer, Arabella has found both enjoyment and inspiration in sparkling, witty Regency novels. She also loves history and generally finds the past more fascinating than the future. Arabella wrote her first Regency romance to entertain her aged mom who loved the genre. Arabella is honoured to share the adventures of her heroes and heroines with readers.
A sparkling traditional Regency romance to enchant fans.
When the young and handsome
Earl of Pennington discovers the inheritance from his great-uncle depends on
him marrying at midnight on the eve of his thirtieth birthday, he is irate.
Marriage is not part of his plan to save his impoverished estates. He crosses
paths unexpectedly with the beautiful Roxanne Chesney, who is fleeing from her
He offers her a contract: marriage for six months to help him
fulfil the conditions of his great-uncle’s will, enabling him secure his
inheritance. In return he will pay her a small fortune.
Can Roxanne resist this
offer? What about the revolting Edgar Doyle who forced her into a loveless
marriage that has not been consummated? Roxanne has escaped Edgar’s clutches,
but she wonders how long she will manage to evade him. The earl’s contract has
no strings attached. The offer is irresistible except for the fact that Roxanne
is already married!
The candlelight cast a soft glow in the
room and imbued the bride with an ethereal radiance. Mr. Lobb had a faint sense
that the proceedings were slightly irregular. He could not remember anyone
performing a marriage ceremony at midnight before. It smacked of the exotic,
something he had never been encouraged to consider. However, the appearance of
Roxanne, a vision in ivory silk and lace rendered, the scene romantic rather
Mr. Lobb was even more agitated than ever
since brides in the village were never as beautiful as the dream of loveliness
that Roxanne presented. He gulped several times, and his large Adam’s apple
bobbed up and down as he found himself temporarily speechless. Roxanne shook
hands with him, and he gasped and wheezed before managing a strangled “Good
evening.” The worldly thought that the Earl of Pennington was to be envied in
his choice of
bride sneaked into the back of his mind,
and he uttered a small sigh of rapture. Mrs. Dawson and Gregson attended in the
capacity of witnesses. Rufus had been banished to the stables, but the howling
that emitted from behind the doors was so awful that Julian had relented at
last on the condition of good behaviour. The hound lay in front of the fire,
his nose on his paws, behaving impeccably.
Jace lives in Arizona with my family,
wife and five kids and a little dog. He writes fiction, thrillers and soft
sci-fi with a little short horror on the side. He holds an MBA and work sin
finance for a biotechnology firm.
Jace volunteers with the Boy Scouts, plays and writes music, and enjoys
everything outdoors. He’s also a novice photographer.
Spend an afternoon antiquing and it’s
not hard to figure out why picking has become one of America’s fondest
pastimes. It’s treasure hunting while connecting with history. But what if
those treasures hunt us back?
From old books, to vinyl records, antique mirrors, vintage figurines, or a
Bob’s Big Boy piggy bank, curses have no limits.
Featuring stories from D.J. Butler, Joy Auburn, Martin L. Shoemaker, Jessica
Guernsey, John D. Payne, Jen Bair, Karen Pellett, Steve Ruskin, Tanya Hales,
Lauren Lang, Frank Morin, Mike Jack Stoumbous, Kelly Lynn Colby, Jace Killan,
Jo Schneider, Gama Ray Martinez, Martin Greening, Chris Abela, A.J. Mayall,
Heidi A. Wilde, Shannon Fox, Lauryn Christopher, and Mark Leslie Lefebvre.
All proceeds of this book go to the Don Hodge
Scholarship Fund for writers
fought back the rage. After all she’d gone through. After all she’d suffered
and waited. This wasn’t hell. This was heaven. They were together. That’s what
heaven meant, right? To be with those you love? Forever?
Marni Graff writes two award-winning mystery series: The Nora Tierney English Mysteries and The Trudy Genova Manhattan Mysteries. She teaches writing workshops and mentors the Writers Read program, and is Managing Editor of Bridle Path Press.
Nurse Trudy Genova is making plans to
take her relationship to NYPD detective Ned O’Malley to the next level, when
she lands a gig as medical consultant on a film shoot at the famed Dakota
apartment building in Manhattan, which John Lennon once called home. Then star
Monica Kiley goes missing, a cast member turns up dead, and it appears Trudy
might be next. Meanwhile Ned tackles a mysterious murder case in which the
victim is burned beyond recognition. When his investigations lead him back to
the Dakota, Trudy finds herself wondering: how can she fall in love if she
can’t even survive?
Readers of Death Unscripted, the first
book in the Trudy Genova Manhattan Mystery series, will find the same pleasures
in this sequel: fast pacing, engaging characters, twists and turns on the way
to a satisfying close. From the award-winning author of The Nora Tierney
English Mysteries, this second series is a winner. Once again M.K. Graff
reveals her talents in crafting this delightful mix of amateur sleuth and
Part procedural, part cozy, Death at
the Dakota is a well-crafted and highly entertaining mystery.- Bruce Robert
Coffin, #1 bestselling author of the Detective Byron mysteries.
I fell in love — not only with
co-protagonists, Trudy and Ned, the richly detailed and historic setting of The
Dakota, and the unique cast of characters, but with the unusual plot of Death
at the Dakota. Sherry Harris, Agatha Award nominated author of the Sarah
Winston Garage Sale Mysteries
The noise of a jackhammer filled the spacious room.
Actress Monica Kelly let the curtain
drop along with her Jinx persona and crossed her arms in frustration.
I caught my best friend Meg Pitman’s
eye and we held our breath, waiting for an outburst from the director.
Phin Hill-Yorke stomped out from
behind the camera and over to the window, gangly arms and legs flying, frizzy
short hair stuck up around her head as though she’d had a recent encounter with
an electrical socket. “Meg!”
Poor Meg, off to the rescue.
My name is Trudy Genova, RN, and I’m
fortunate to have one of the best jobs a nurse could have. I’m a medical
consultant to one of New York City’s major television studios, the Passion
Broadcasting Junction. PBJ had decided to branch out into television films,
adding to their roster of talk, news programs, and Internet soap operas.
Meg had her first position as
Production Assistant on this movie, and the British director on loan from the
BBC had given her a battering at times all through the shoot. Not that the
rowdy woman singled out Meg—Phin embodied an equal opportunity harasser in a
mostly good-natured sort of way.
“Get your arse down there and sort
those wankers out. They were supposed to hold off on that pavement ‘til next
week. Bring that form from the chancellor’s office with you.” Phin yelled above
the noise that continued, patting her pockets for a cigarette. “Please,” she
added as an afterthought.
Meg hurried off with a wave in my
direction, silky blonde hair flying.
“It’s the mayor’s office here, Phin.”
China Barrett corrected Phin from her perch next to me, out of camera range.
Phin’s assistant and I exchanged tiny smiles, co-conspirators for the past six
weeks in the filming of this television movie close to wrapping.
“I don’t care if he’s the Prime
Minister, that racket must stop.” Phin consulted her watch. “Loo breaks all
around while we sort this out, boys and girls.”
Ren Garcia is a Science Fiction/Fantasy author and Texas native who grew up in western Ohio. He has been writing since before he could write, often scribbling alien lingo on any available wall or floor with assorted crayons. He attended The Ohio State University and majored in English Literature.
Ren has been an avid lover of anything surreal since childhood. He also has a passion for caving, urban archeology, taking pictures of clouds, and architecture. He currently lives in Columbus, Ohio with his wife, and their four dogs.
Three books in one:
The Temple of the Exploding Head
Starfarers and explorers, the League
settled on Kana thousands of years ago. They found it to be a paradise, a
perfect, virtually uninhabited planet waiting just for them in the cradle of
Lovely Kana … it was too good to be
But, all was not as it seemed.
Simmering beneath the ground was a demented god who had soaked Kana in blood
for untold ages, luring in victims, lying to them, and rejoicing in their
suffering as they died at the hands of his dark angels.
And there will be blood again … From
his Temple in the ground, the Horned God stirs.
When Lord Kabyl of Blanchefort, a
young man troubled by the weight of the world, dares give his heart to a girl
from a mysterious ancient household, one that pre-dates the League itself, he
comes to know the shadows of the past that hover over her.
He comes to know of the Horned God,
and for love he is destined to face him. All roads lead to the Temple of the
Exploding Head, a place of evil and death, rooted in the ancient past, but also
tied to the distant future.
“We were evil once,” she said, “and
the gods are still punishing us…”
began having visions when she was five years old. All of her kind had visions,
and hers were especially vivid. She could see the future, and she didn’t want
to. Many of her family saw their deaths in their visions, at the hands of the
demons, and they crumpled up in sadness and waited for it to happen—waited for
the end to come. She watched one of her brothers waste away in such a state.
She went to her grandmother and pleaded
“Why, why does this have to be?”
And her grandmother calmed her as only she could and said: “Nothing has
to be. Nothing is indelibly etched. If you see bad future, or you see a
darkness coming, then make it better. Keep your head clear and fight for what
you want, as I have done. How do you think I’ve lasted so long?”
Her aunts and uncles didn’t like that sort of talk. What sort of thing
was that to tell a child? Filling her head with dreams and impossibilities.
Their motto was simpler and much more stark: Live your life while you can and
hope for the best, and, when the end comes, let your head swarm and take you to
places where there is no pain and sadness, where the demons can’t hurt you.
As if such a place could exist.
–Lady Sammidoran learning the
brutality of the world.
raised in the rainy streets of the Seattle Area, L.P. Masters spent her fair
share of time staring out rain-streaked windows and writing books. Masters has
always had extremely vivid dreams, which often spark inspiration for her
novels. In 1999, after one such dream, Masters began her first writing project.
She has participated in National Novel Writer’s Month every November since
2010. Writing isn’t the only thing she can do with a pen in her hand, she also
enjoys sketching and drawing—with varying degrees of success. Masters now lives
in the slightly-less-dreary city of Spokane Washington with her husband, four
wonderful daughters, and two crazy dogs.
for her afterlife is simple: survive as long as possible. The afterlife is a
ghost-kill-ghost kind of place. When she meets newly-dead Alec, she can’t help
her desire to protect him. Before she knows it, she finds herself falling for
him, despite the little voice in her head telling her it’s a bad idea.
Alec’s goals don’t mesh well with Gina’s plans. Determined to save his living
sister from a murderer, he’s willing to disobey the laws of a well-established
cult in the afterlife. If the cult finds out, they’ll kill him. Again. He’s
hesitant to accept Gina’s help and threaten her afterlife, but he’s guaranteed
to fail without her. Together they embark on a perilous mission, but the most
dangerous aspect of all is the threat of falling in love. Because in the
afterlife… love is death.
My vision blurred as I leaned my head against my stone. I fought the
feeling, but there wasn’t much I could do, so I slipped into a dream. Ghosts
rarely slept, but when we needed to, there was no stopping it.
I drew in a long, deep breath.
I was alive again as I dreamed.
I could feel the seatbelt chafing my shoulder, the cracked leather on the
armrest digging into my elbow. I could barely keep my eyes open. Streetlights
flashed through my closed lids as we drove down the road.
It was three in the morning. The party at Micah’s house had lasted all
night, and my boyfriend, Caden, and I had stayed up late the night before,
studying for finals.
“Did you have fun?” I asked Caden absently, eyes still closed. He
didn’t answer, but I didn’t think anything of it. I’d almost drifted back to
sleep when I heard the horn blaring.
My eyes flew open to the glare of headlights aimed straight through the
The dream turned to slow motion as that pair of headlights crashed through
my window. Pain like none I’d ever felt before ripped through me. The noise
rose to a crescendo, and I could feel.
I felt myself being torn apart, my soul wrenched from my body.
There was no question in my mind. No doubt about whether or not I was dead.
I walked to a rock that sat in front of a nearby driveway and hugged my knees.
I scanned the quiet streets, waiting for some sort of light or understanding.
Waiting for heaven. Heaven never came, and it didn’t take long for me to
realize that the afterlife was nothing more than hell on Earth.
Kristina Seek’s debut novel, The
Hashtag Hunt, was published in 2018. She is a graduate of Queens College in
Charlotte and a member of Romance Writers of America. In March of 2019, she
quit her day job to focus on a career in writing.
Kristina lives in North Carolina with
her husband and son. She cherishes time with her friends and family, loves
traveling to new destinations, and plans to cross many other items off her
Visit www.KristinaSeek.com and sign
up for her mailing list to receive updates and exclusive offers!
The only reason Lauren entered the
Hashtag Hunt was for the $10,000 grand prize. She needed seed money for her
startup, and it sounded easy enough: twelve hours to text twelve photos to
someone called the Wizard.
For hashtag number five, Lauren needs a
#HottieInTheWild, and with the help of her best friend, Ivy, she finds the
The only reason Brenner entered Barkley’s Pub was to have
beers with Scott, an Army brother back in town. The reunion is interrupted when
a woman is caught crouched in a dark corner, taking pictures of Brenner.
explains, and though embarrassed, she accepts Scott and Brenner’s offer to help
with hashtag number six.While hunting for hashtags, Lauren finds adventure and
romance with her #Hottie, but she must stay focused to beat the clock and win
“I’m sorry. Are you saying ‘hottie?’ ‘In the
wild?’” Scott didn’t hide his confusion. “That’s not a thing, is it?”
“Oh yeah,” Ivy said. “It’s a thing. My Facebook
friends post pictures of hot guys out in public all the time. Subways,
airports, Disney World, construction sites, tattoo parlors, in line for coffee,
carpool…” she trailed off with a shrug. “Wherever.”
“Are you serious?” Scott looked at Brenner and
said, “I’m not sure men could get away with a ‘Honey in the Wild’ Facebook
“Please, Scott. We ladies are making up for lost
time,” said Ivy. “A handful of hotties on Facebook doesn’t compare to the tons
of T & A on the Internet.”
All who heard Ivy’s voice nodded, and Margot
“Okay. Let me see if I understand what you’re
saying,” Jess said as she sat up straighter in her chair. “Women take and post
pictures of hot men they see out and about in town.”
“All. Day,” confirmed Ivy.
Jess left her chair and went behind the bar. She
bent down and then reappeared, plopping her oversized purse on the bar top. She
fished her phone out of the bag. “Show me the way.”
“Get on Facebook.” Ivy walked over to Jess. “I got
Lauren looked at Brenner. Pointing to Ivy and Jess
at the bar, she said, “I did not take your picture for that Facebook group. I
needed it for this contest, I swear.”
Brenner said, “I’m flattered you found me
attractive enough for your photo.”
“I knew it!” Ivy shouted from the bar. She looked
up from Jess’s phone. “I told her any normal guy would love knowing he was a
hottie in the wild.”
“Well,” said Jess, looking at her phone, “Facebook
just got a hell of a lot better.” Lauren watched her move her thumb across the
screen. “And these guys have no idea these pictures are being taken?”
“Plenty of women get caught,” Ivy said with a
pointed look toward Lauren. “Most play it off by pretending they’re texting
someone or taking a selfie. A friend of mine once acted like she was looking
for a coupon when she was busted in line at Dick’s Sporting Goods.”
Jess looked up from her phone and said, “And some
women run away and hide in the ladies’ room.”
“Take it easy on her,” Brenner said to Jess. He
turned his attention to Lauren and said, “It’s worth it if the picture helped
you win the contest.” When Lauren didn’t respond, he asked, “Did you win?”
“The contest doesn’t end until tomorrow. I have to
take twelve pictures, and yours was number five,” Lauren responded. “If your
picture is accepted, I’ll get a text with instructions for number six.”
“And if it’s not accepted?” Brenner asked.
“Then I’m out of the contest. First contestant to
have twelve pictures approved before the deadline wins.”
“Wins what?” the crowd asked.
“Ten thousand dollars,” said Lauren.
grew up in the American West, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she knows how
to ride a horse. What it does mean, however, is that she loves to weave the
country’s rich history into riveting tales full of romance and intrigue.
When she’s not writing, Julia enjoys cooking, sewing costumes for her children,
spending time with her husband, and watching her children perform in sports or
plays—or, if she’s really bored or stuck on a plot twist, cleaning the house.
She also writes contemporary inspirational romance under her real name, Laura
Follow Julia as she unveils heroes whose strength and courage are only
surpassed by their tenderness, and heroines who hide their lonely hearts with a
cover of steel. It will take overcoming insurmountable odds and an iron will
for them to find a love that lasts forever. Luckily, they have Julia to help
To guard his heart or protect two little girls . . . Is he willing to risk it all?
Pinkerton detective Chas Bryant’s last job for the agency is supposed to be
easy—deliver a cache of stolen items back to Mount Vernon after recovering them
from profiteers. Soon, however, Chas discovers that nothing in this case is
simple. When he’s called upon to search for a little girl gone missing after
her parents are murdered, there’s only one woman who can help him . . . but
he’ll need to make her his wife in order to complete the investigation.
Jessica Flanders is only trying to rescue her younger sister from a fate
bleaker than death. How can the powers that be possibly think that separating
them from each other is a good idea? Jessica made a dying promise to her
parents. Now she needs Chas’s help to get her sister back, but when they dig
deeper into the matter, they discover another little girl with an even greater
need for being rescued.
Soon it becomes clear that someone else is searching for the missing girl, too.
Can they keep her safe until the case is solved and the murderers are caught?
If so, Chas and Jessica will need to forge a bond that is stronger than the
evil forces surrounding them, and in the process, a love that will never be
Read each of the Pinkerton Matchmaker stories in any order. These agents give
the phrase “married to your work” a whole new meaning!
“I’ve made a promise to serve and
protect the people of this land, and that is what I intend to do. You are old
enough to fend for yourself. This little girl isn’t. And wanting to keep her
under your delicate wing, without a husband to aid you, is not only pure
foolishness but selfish to boot.”
Jessica reared back as if she’d been
slapped. How could wanting to take care of her sister be considered selfish?
She stood to her full height of five-foot-six and told the deputy, “I resent
that remark. I demand that you hand my sister over right this minute!”
“And I demand that you remove yourself
from the premises. You have until the count of three before I arrest you.”
“Jessica!” Amy whimpered, her huge
eyes nearly taking up all the space in the upper half of her face.
Jessica’s heart pounded. What should
Whatever it was, she needed to do it
Lord, show me a way to keep Amy.
“There you are, darling!”
A new voice, one that Jessica didn’t
recognize, came from her left. The deep baritone cut off the deputy’s threat.
Jessica turned toward that voice to find a man whose dark hair was cut short on
the sides, and whose slight beard and temples were touched with gray, approach
from her side. “I’m sorry I was so late getting off work. I saw your note,
saying that you had come here, and followed as fast as I could.”
Jessica’s jaw went slack. As the man
placed one large hand on her shoulder and leaned in for a kiss on her cheek,
she fought the urge to slap him for taking such liberties. The stranger smiled
even wider at her discomfiture and resumed his playacting. “What seems to be
the problem? And why are we meeting here at this orphanage?”
The man had eyes that were bluer than the
Potomac. Oh, my.
Ann has been a writer since junior high, but to
pay the bills she has waited tables, delivered newspapers, cleaned other
people’s houses, taught school, and had a stint as a secretary in a rock-n-roll
radio station. She also worked as a 911 operator and a police dispatcher.
Her fiction began to win awards during her college days. Since then she’s
published several short stories, novels, and novellas. She’s always reading and
always writing, but even if she never sold another story, Ann would not stop
writing. For her it’s a necessity, like breathing. Most of the time, it even
keeps her sane.
They call him the Killer Cartographer because he
carves the map coordinates of each victim on the femur of the one before. Then
he tattoos the information on his skin.
Can Detective Kendra Dean bring him in,
or will she become his next tattoo?
This book is on offer for .99 for the month of October! Buy your copy today!!!
The bones were wet and cold. The clay in the
soil trapped the moisture as efficiently as a layer of mulch in a flowerbed.
When Edgar held the femur up to the moonlight, he was thrilled to observe how
fully the dirt and mold had settled into the cuts. It created an inky
labyrinthine abstract on the once-white
He caressed the soil around the bones, and
then lifted the rest of them from their shallow bed. “Welcome back,” he