Title: Ingrid (Daughter Of The Alvar #1 ) Author: Hannah Warren On a lonely windswept island off the coast of Sweden, there is a place so desolate it feels abandoned by the fates. And yet, it possesses a strange beauty, which summons souls to awakening. This is the Alvar. Its very nature is a contradiction, and it is this ambiguity that calls to Ingrid, daughter to the vicar of Smedby. Raised as God-fearing, she believes in charity, and when Kalle returns unexpectedly to the island community, her instinct is to help him. Considered a pariah by all due to his sordid past, one that saw him exiled for many years, he ventures into the Alvar to live, to escape the censure of the villagers. In this desolate place, how will he survive? Ingrid resolves to help him. No one will tell Ingrid why Kalle was exiled. Her father commands her to stay away from the poacher. Their housekeeper warns her off. Her brother does not know what happened. Her French tutor, Max, is new to the island. The mystery is overwhelming and the only one who knows the truth is Kalle himself. In the spirit of charity, and also curiosity, Ingrid befriends Kalle, hoping to uncover the past, hoping also to help him survive the Alvar. A gypsy reveals to Ingrid that she will lose everything, but the cossetted vicar’s daughter is headstrong. She enters the Alvar despite every warning … and meets her fate there. Ingrid continued to hate her father all week. It increased due to his stubbornness to lift the ban on her imprisonment, or come to talk to her in a reasonable way. All she did in her lonely hours was think of ways to escape her bedroom, a room she had come to despise, and to flee to Kalle. Of all people she knew, he had a tenderness and a caring in him that her own family lacked. And he was fluent in speech, enjoying to converse with her despite his uneducated brain. Knowing her father would keep a close watch on her from now on, Ingrid realised she would have no means of leaving the house without someone escorting her. That’s when her plan arose to escape in the middle of the night when no one would expect her to go out. Outside her bedroom window stood a huge oak tree with branches that reached almost to her windowsill. As children, Johan and she had managed to climb onto one of the branches and let themselves slip down with a rope they had attached to a thicker limb. The rope was no longer in place, but if she tore her sheet in small strips and tied them together, she could take them in her pocket before she climbed outside. Would that be feasible? It seemed like the only way to get out of the house. Apart from being obstinate, she also felt deeply that she had to show her father she was serious about her God as well. He wouldn’t want to listen in any other way. Having all the hours of the night and day, as nobody came to see her in her isolation, Ingrid plotted and planned. At regular times, Mrs Magnusson came up with a tray laden with food and drinks, mostly her favourite dishes, but Ingrid hardly touched any of it as she was angry with the housekeeper as well. Mrs Magnusson looked at her sheepishly each time she set down the tray. She tried to seduce the girl into small talk, but Ingrid didn’t respond. Sullenly, she kept staring out the window, over the Alvar, until she heard the housekeeper turn the key in the lock again. She hadn’t forgotten the harsh words Mrs Mags had spoken about Kalle. The only one who wasn’t to blame and whom she was going to miss was Max. He’d never really given his opinion on the matter. And of course, she thought of Johan, what he would think of her adventure, but decided she’d explain everything to him in two weeks’ time when he came home for Easter. Perhaps her brother would understand her better than their father. He might take her side. Anyway, by then, this storm would have blown itself out and they would all see that Kalle meant no harm. After all, she simply wanted to make a statement, for them to realise how serious she was about this charity cause. Ingrid dressed in her darkest clothes and put on her sturdy walking boots. Fully dressed she got into bed, extinguished the gas lamp and drew the cover over her. She listened as the house became silent. Wide awake, with big eyes and a pounding heart, she tried to lie still, but her legs kept moving because she was so nervous. At some point she thought she was idiotic to go ahead with her plan, but at other moments her anger flared up again and she knew she had to teach everyone a lesson. She waited until two in the morning before she slipped out of bed to put on her coat and wrap a dark shawl around her light hair. She listened at the door; there was no sound in the whole house. Carefully she undid the window latch and opened the window. Fresh night air swirled around her. For a moment she sat on the sill weighing her chances. If she failed to do this and fell down, she would either wake someone up because of the crash or - if she hurt herself - lie there until morning and hell would break ensue. “So you’d better do this right the first and only time,” she told herself as she stretched out her arms to grab the nearest branch. She got hold of it and pulled it towards her. “Now,” she ordered, and for a moment felt her body dangle in mid-air before she managed to climb onto the sturdy branch by using all the force in her arms. “See I can still do this,” she whispered to herself with relief, taking a moment to catch her breath. Stealthily she climbed further down the tree to the branch Johan used to tie a rope. Unrolling the strips of linen, she tied them tightly around the branch. She pulled to check its strength. This is the moment, she said to herself as she climbed down a little further until she would have to rely on the sheet. The distance to the ground was more than three yards, too far to jump. Hanging onto the makeshift rope, she trusted it to hold her weight. Sliding down, the ground came nearer and nearer until she stood on solid earth. She was free. Hallelujah. She checked the downstairs part of the house, but there were no lights. The sheet would remain hanging on to the tree so she could climb back up later that night. Tentatively, she found her way through the dark. It was a clear night with a sickle of the new moon hanging low. A myriad of sparkling stars twinkled in the firmament. A clear night in March meant it was quite cold and the ground was covered with a thin layer of frosty white. Ingrid shivered, cursing herself for not having put on her winter coat. She walked briskly instead. As she knew the way so well, she didn’t hesitate where to put her feet and soon found herself on the footpath that led to the stone wall. The moment she was about to climb over it, she stopped in her tracks and looked back towards Smedby village. All was dark. Nobody was following her. The white church tower was vaguely visible. Suddenly she wasn’t so sure of her plan. What would Kalle think when she arrived in the middle of the night? Or maybe he wasn’t even there, poaching somewhere. What would she do then? She would just have to return and hope she could climb up to her room again. She had left the latch on the window open; if she returned before daylight, she might be able to get in without anyone having noticed she’d been missing. Shaking herself from her fright, she looked ahead towards her goal. What would she say to Kalle? That they were in this together; that she owed it to him to stand firm and withstand her father’s command. She would try to persuade Kalle to come with her to the vicarage and present himself to her father. That way her father could see for himself that the man was innocent and had a right to a decent home and decent treatment by society. She would urge her father to find Kalle a job, maybe again with Martin the blacksmith. Or maybe as someone’s farm-hand. Ingrid became more and more enthusiastic about her project, confident it would work out in the end. After she’d manage to rehabilitate Kalle Ljundberg, she would make it clear to her father that this was the kind of work she wanted to do in her life. She didn’t want to marry. She wanted to devote herself to working for the poor. Maybe set up a school for children that now had to go out and work at a tender age because their parents needed the extra income. That was another of these blatant situations the rich of Södra Öland turned a blind eye to. Papa would understand she needed a goal in life. Max’s lessons were interesting enough in themselves, but didn’t really teach her anything about real life. While she was thinking these thoughts, Ingrid sought her way over the limestone plates and around the low bushes and muddy pools with more difficulty then she had anticipated. She made slow progress and realised the walk was going to take her twice as long as usual. When she finally arrived, she would wait until it was light and then return together with Kalle. The option to return in the dark became slimmer and slimmer. If only he was home to let her in. Ingrid filled her lungs with the cold air and said a prayer. “Lord Jesus Son of God, Have Mercy Upon Us.” She kept praying this sentence over and over and found a kind of cadenza walking and speaking these words. They comforted her and made the cold less piercing. In the distance she thought she saw Kalle’s demarcation wall, but when she came closer she saw it was a herd of cream-coloured cows huddled together. Farmers were free to let their cows graze on the Alvar, where nobody ever came to steal them. Ingrid wasn’t afraid of the animals dozing in the night, some lying down, snorting wheezily as the girl passed. “Hello, cows,” she greeted. Finally she was glad to see Kalle’s territory before her and she opened the provisional gate in the wall. All was silent. She had no idea if he was in the house or not so she called out, “Kalle are you home?” When nothing stirred, she called a little louder, “Kalle, it’s me Ingrid. Are you there?” Still nothing. She walked around the house and tried to peer in, but the oilcloth was attached from the inside and she couldn’t see anything. She knocked on the door, calling his name again. She started to panic, feeling too alone in the dark, afraid, not knowing which way to turn. Desperately, she banged on the door, begging him to let her in, crying now, deep sobs rising up from her chest, suddenly feeling weak with hunger. She hadn’t eaten properly for days. Again she listened. Close by a bird scattered and flew up in the air, its night’s rest disrupted by the noise. A cow lowed, and then the silence reigned over the Alvar again. Shivering and miserable, Ingrid started for home. The haze in her eyes made her stumble and miss her footing several times. She sprained her left ankle and stumbled on, not sure which way she was heading. A low mist closed in around her, steely wet, impenetrable. She was losing her way, she was losing her mind. She needed to lie down and sleep, but understood she would most probably suffer from hypothermia if she did, so she kept going, trying to discern the first signs of dawn, which would have to be behind her. She had to head west, west, ever west. “Papa,” she cried several times, ‘Papa, help me.” The landscape was completely devoid of human activity. In the end she gave up and sat down on a huge stone that had stood fixed in the land since the last ice age. “I just want to rest a little bit,” she told herself, “until I’ve regained my strength.” In 2016 I joined the writer’s collective 13th Sign Publishing where – apart from publishing our books- we publish a free quarterly eZine on healthy living, healthy eating and great reading. When I’m not writing or thinking about writing, you can find me at the paid job at my local university translating stuff and recruiting international students, experimenting with organic food in my kitchen, stretching my old bones in Yoga or glued to WhatsApp exchanging funny messages with my grown-up kids. But writing is the real deal for me. My books focus on female characters who are faced with impossible choices in their lives but still manage to crack it whether they perish or survive. My stories are dark and gritty. After all ‘this life is not a stroll across the meadow’ as Doctor Zhivago already observed. I write both contemporary and historical fiction, sometimes with a dash of fantasy.
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Title: Pas De Deux Author: Wynter S. K. Genre :Romance Cillian Ronan is a U.S. Army soldier home from a disastrous second deployment that resulted in the death of one of his best friends, and is struggling to take ownership of his father’s historic gym from the money-hungry, unethical businessman he’s forced to work with. Sammi Carnevale is a closed-off young woman with a traumatic past who's trying to rebuild her life and realize her dream of opening her own dance studio. When they meet, it quickly becomes clear how much they need each other's friendship and support. Sammi relies on a dangerous habit to deal with her dark secret, and the pain of the loss of his friend haunts Cillian day and night. Their bond strengthens after all of their secrets are laid bare, and in the wasteland of pain they share, they decide to trust each other. Just when it seems that they're ready to take their friendship to the next level, Sammi's past resurfaces in a horrifyingly public way, and the blame is placed squarely on Cillian. Will he lose everything he's worked so hard for and the woman he's fallen in love with? Will Sammi be able to fight through her pain and the trauma of her past without Cillian, whom she's come to rely on for strength and understanding, when everything crumbles to ash? Will these two broken souls be able to heal apart, or is it only the power of love that can make them whole again—together? Wynter S.K. is her name, and razor-sharp romance is her game. She considers herself a pioneer of the notion that crème brûlée is a good source of calcium, and has the uncanny ability to explain to you, in detail, why wine is basically salad. She’s turned vocal novelizations of her favorite TV shows (Supernatural, anyone?) into a drinking game, and frequently laughs herself into asthma attacks. She’s mom to two furry kids, the Pushy Pomeranian and the Contemptuous Cat. Oh, and you know those idealized, Alpha male, “book boyfriend” types we all love that are super tough and sweet and hot, all in one unfair and unrealistic package? Yeah, she’s married to one. He’s a cop and a U.S. Army soldier, and after over a dozen years together, he still makes her heart go ka-thump. Title: To Catch A Flame Author: Lily Freeman Genre: Erotic Romance Publisher: Fifth Star North A contemporary erotic, BDSM novel. 112,000 words After PJ and Luke’s final volatile encounter, she struggles to cope, but she’s not alone. Mika and Elliot have moved into her home, her bed—stripping her bare and stealing her heart. PJ’s no longer terrified of the man who tried to break her, just terrified of falling in love with the two men she knows she can never have. Or can she? All it takes is a confession, one little word, and her entire world tilts abruptly. What they’ve hidden from her is the sweetest of betrayals, and PJ’s devastated by it, yet she just can’t fight the pull towards them any longer. The love they have for her, and each other is intense and all consuming, but something’s not right. It’s subtle at first, a word, a gesture, a pair of handcuffs—an exchange of power. Despite her trepidation, her trust in them allows PJ to explore the things about herself that Luke tried to destroy, and she does until she’s faced with a soul-breaking ultimatum. Secrets and lies, wants and needs. Once again, PJ finds herself completely bound by someone else's desires, only this time, there’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. This time, she’s forced to face her fears so that she can claim the hearts of the two men who were always meant to be hers. I didn't discover writing like most authors do. There was no childhood dream, no undeniable urge to put pen to paper. My story started off with an unexpected life changing event : a sizeable tax refund and a water-taxi ride caught from the wrong side of the Thames. I've always been an avid reader and a daydreamer, so when an idea for a novel was born from those three seemingly unrelated events, I ran with it. That idea became an obsession and also a passion. My characters are big and bold, the men are dominant to a fault and the women are strong and sassy. I'm fascinated by the concept of fate. One decision causing another and another, all of them having consequences which ultimately draw my characters together only to tear them apart. There will always be a happy ending, because there's no denying, I'm a romantic at heart - but a little pain woven amongst all that pleasure makes for a very explosive plot. When I'm not writing or meticulously plotting my next novel, I am a wife and a mother. I have a healthy appetite for physically challenging sports and I love coffee. If all else fails you'll find me reading a book which was how my journey began and will no doubt be how it will end. Lily. Title: Free Falling Author: GL Chapple Genre: Romance Maddie Love shouldn’t hurt. Love should make your heart soar - not break it apart Love should make you feel safe - not broken and vulnerable. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Marcus Anger shouldn't be all-consuming. Anger at her for leaving me Anger at her for showing for me that life could be more - and making me crave it. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Two damaged people, free-falling through life. Two friends. Two choices. Two questions. If you’re unable to save yourself, can you really help anyone else? Can happy-ever-afters exist if you no longer believe in fairy tales? Friends told me how sorry they were – but it wasn’t their fault. They told me I needed to move on - as if it were that fucking easy, and I could just pick up and carry on. They apologised for my loss – as if I’d misplaced an item of value, instead of the person that had helped hold me together, all the broken, messed-up pieces of me…It devalued her and everything that we had, and I hated that they could make such stupid, thoughtless and ridiculous statements. I knew they cared and I knew they were concerned, but it took all my willpower not to punch them and tell them to fuck off and leave me alone. I couldn’t give them what they wanted from me. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to feel… GL Chapple is a welsh author that strongly believes she was born in the wrong country. She lives for hot, sunny days (of which there are never enough in her country of birth and residence!) Despite this, she can often be found at the beach with her husband and two young children. She has always loved to read and write and promised herself, one day, she would have a book bearing her name on her shelf. She will read almost any genre and despite her belief that the kindle ranks in the top ten of inventions, she still loves cuddling up with a paperback. She writes what she loves to read about: stories with heart, humour and heat. Title : Inked Babies (The Inked Brotherhood Epliogue) Author: Jo Raven Genre : Romance Photographer: Eric Battershell Models: Burton Hughes and Coco Liliana Hughes Five brothers in all but blood, five girls who love them, emerging from a past fraud with darkness and danger. There are wedding bells, and baby cries and laughter all around. They have found their happy ending. Only one cloud is marring these blue skies, and it has to do with Zane, the rock of the brotherhood. Nobody knows exactly what is wrong, but here’s the thing, folks: There are five of us, and we’re brothers in all but blood. We stand all for one and one for all. If you messed with one of us, you’ve messed with all of us. We protect our own. And Zane is more than one of our own. He’s our leader. He’s our steady center. If our center shatters, we all shatter. This brotherhood is strong. We’re gonna find out what troubles him and put it to rest, once and for all, bury it, stomp on it, crush it until it’s fixed or gone. Time we celebrated our happy ending. “How many lines do you see?” Audrey asks. “I’m not drunk, you know.” “Maybe I am. Humor me.” We’re both kneeling on the cold tiles of the bathroom, but can’t seem to move from the spot. “Two. Red. Lines.” I lick my lips. “And that means?” She punches me in the shoulder. It’s like a kitten pawing at me. “Ash.” “What?” I grin. “You know very well what it means.” She starts to laugh, covering her face with her hands, and she sounds kinda hysterical. “Oh my God, Asher Devlin.” I can’t stop my grin from widening. “We’re having another baby.” The pregnancy test is positive. I knew it in my gut for weeks now that she was pregnant, and here’s proof. I feel sorta proud, and scared, and happy at the same time. I whoop and draw her into my arms to kiss her mouth. “I love you, Auds.” “Love you, too, but…” She trembles a little in the circle of my arms. “So soon? Scott is not even two yet. He’s still breastfeeding, for God’s sake.” I lower my hand to her still flat tummy. “And he’ll love a brother, or a sister to play with.” “It will be hard.” “We’ll be fine. We’ll do this together.” I bite my lip not to laugh at the look she sends me. “Well, I’ll help as much as I can. Rub your feet and all. Rub anything you need rubbed.” I lift my hand to cup one of her breasts, and yeah, I had thought her tits were heavier, and look, I’m right. “It’s your fault,” she mutters, that mutinous look still flashing in her green eyes. “You and your… your cock.” “It’s a super cock.” Apparently. I glance down where my dick is starting to rise to the occasion, tenting the front of my briefs. All this talk of baby making and the feel of her breast in my hand are giving it ideas. “Super Cock would like to say hi to Super Mommy.” “Stop it.” She punches my shoulder again, and I brush my thumb over her hardening nipple, making her gasp. Wow, her tits are almost spilling out of her fine-laced bra, and all I wanna do is drag her to our bed and sink into her. Looks like she’ll need some persuading first, though. Her fine brows are knit. “I’ll never finish my studies, not with another baby. Oh God…” “Hey. Auds.” I put my hand under her chin, tilt her face up until she’s looking at me. “Yes, you will. This baby wasn’t planned, hell, the previous one either, but we’re in this together. I meant it when I said it. I’ll help. We’ll find a way, and you’ll do everything you’ve ever dreamed of, okay? I promise.” She nods, her eyes filling up, but she’s smiling. “I want your babies, Ash. All your babies. I trust you.” My girl. I brush my mouth over hers, tasting her sweetness. “I hope I never give you cause to regret it.” “You won’t.” She smiles at me, and her expression turns dreamy, just like it did the time we found out she was pregnant with Scott. Her hand covers mine over her tummy, and I try to imagine us with another baby. A sudden stab of panic hits me, and I swallow hard. “Am I… Am I doing this right, Auds? With you and Scott? Am I…?” “You’re the perfect daddy,” she whispers, calming me down like every time my fears flare up. “You’re amazing, and I’m yours.” Jo Raven does a fantastic job with her revisit to the Inked Brotherhood! There's babies, wedding planning, a proposal and life after their individual stories concluded, but not all things are tied up and wrapped with a bow for these couples. The leader of the group, Zane, is battling demons of his own and trying to do it without the help of his brothers. What Zane forgets though is like he has done for all of the men, they will push to help no matter what the situation is. As Tyler, Asher, Dylan and Rafe band together to protect their own they are drawn into a fight none could comprehend the magnitude of the ripples it causes. The fight that takes them from the comfort of Madison to Wausau, where Zane's nightmare began and back to Madison where that nightmare is currently haunting him. The ladies of the Inked Brotherhood are just as tight as the guys so when Dakota is struggling Erin, Tessa, Megan and Audrey are there to help. These couples struggle to keep their happy endings and even though they have found the other half to their souls the relationships still take work and nobody is completely healed from their past. I absolutely loved coming back to the Brotherhood and surrounding myself in these guys all over again. Jo Raven never ceases to amaze me with her writing, the depth of her characters and the (sometimes) hard to read torture she puts these guys through, but through it all she has me hooked from the first to the last page. Jo Raven is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, best known for her series Inked Brotherhood and Damage Control. She writes edgy, contemporary New Adult romance with sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines. She writes about MME fighters and tattoo artists, dark pasts that bleed into the present, loyalty and raw emotion. Add to that breathtaking suspense, super-hot sex scenes and a happy ending, and you have a Jo Raven® story. Find all her books here .
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