Introducing a series like no other—the Seekers of the Past
series will take you on a journey where the past meets the present and love
lives forever.
Seeking the Past...
Emma Wells
has uncovered clues that might prove an old family tale as being true. Strange
things lead her to question whether her grandfather’s death may not have been
an accident and goes in search of something worth killing him for buried on her
property. When she asks an old friend to assist, the man who comes in his place
is the last person she ever wanted to respond to her call for help.
Seeking a Second Chance…
Sam
Martinelli has been hoping for a reason to get close to the woman he still
loves since he destroyed their relationship five years ago. His foolish actions
drove her away then, but now he’s hoping his expertise as well as time working
with her allows him another chance.
Uncovering Secrets...
When
Emma’s suspicions prove to have substance, she convinces Sam to help her even
if he still carries doubts. Being with him again, she begins to question her
heart and past as well as her foolish pride. When things take a dangerous turn,
Emma realizes she must trust the man she trusts least, especially when the past
collides with the present and the truth of it all is uncovered.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Expected release date is
planned for July 10, 2018.
As soon as it’s up for pre-order, I’ll let you know and share a peek or two,
or
maybe three, into the world of the Seekers of the Past.
Anyone interested in reading for review, feel free to contact me. xo
Captain Theobald
Raynalds lost his leg at the Battle of Trafalgar and with it, his belief any
woman could find a cripple like him unobjectionable enough to love.
Louisa
Bennet finds Theo incredibly attractive—both as a man in his own right and as
an alternative to the odious cousin her father has arranged for her to marry.
First, however, she must
convince the Captain her interest in him stems from the man he is, scars and
all, and not on his being the lesser of evils.
EXCERPT:
After the Captain’s
sister quit the room, Louisa took her advice and dozed until a knock on her
bedchamber door brought her back to herself. Just as she opened her mouth to
ask who was there, Capt. Raynalds called through the door, “Miss Bennet, may I
have a word?”
She hesitated before
answering. As desperately as she wanted to see him and hear what he came to
say, her sense of propriety told her to refuse him entry. Entertaining a
gentleman in her bedchamber was shockingly improper. Under the circumstances,
however, she could not bring herself to send him away.
Pulling the bedclothes
to her chin to cover the sheer nightgown his sister had loaned her, she said,
“Yes, Captain. You may enter.”
He opened the door and,
with the aid of his cane, limped to the bedside and looked down at her, his
expression inexplicably stern. “Does my sister speak the truth?”
The question at once
shocked Louisa’s heart and aroused her fury. She could not decide which she
would rather do, curl up and die or strangle his sister with her bare hands.
How could the girl betray her confidence by telling her brother her plans?—if,
indeed, that was what she had disclosed. Perhaps it was not, in which case,
Louisa would be wise to tread carefully to avoid betraying her own secrets (and
his trust in the process).
She blinked under his
probing stare. “How can I answer that when I have no idea what she might have
told you?”
“She told me your father
intends to marry you off to a man you despise.”
He looked very unhappy,
which pleased her immeasurably. “Yes, that is true. He wants me to marry the
cousin to whom his estate is entailed—to ensure my mother and sisters will have
somewhere to live after he departs this world.”
The Captain, hands
stacked atop his cane, shifted his stance uneasily. “I can understand his
motives—he is only doing what he believes best for his family, one can only
presume—but I cannot agree with his forcing you to marry a man you abhor. Does
he know how much you loathe your cousin?”
“He does.”
“And he insists upon you
marrying this man in spite of your feelings?”
“My feelings are of
little consequence to my father, I assure you.”
He scrubbed a hand down
his face. “Surely there must be some way around marrying this person.”
Did she dare share her
idea? No, she mustn’t. If she did, he would never come to trust her. “There is
not, short of running away and living as a gypsy.”
He stood there a long
time, as if fighting an inner battle. At length, he said, “There is one way I
can think of…but I fear I am not the man for the job.”
Louisa’s heart wilted.
“You are right. We are strangers. So why should you care what becomes of me?”
Softening in demeanor,
he came closer and sat beside her on the bed. “I do care what becomes of you,
Miss Bennet—beyond what I am willing to admit—but my heart is not quite
invested enough to put a ring on your finger. Neither is my trust. And now, in
addition to my standard reservations, I suspect you mean to use me to avoid
marrying this cousin of yours.”
“That is untrue!” She
looked away so he would not see the desperation in her eyes. “Well, it might be
partially true…but I shall endeavor to fall in love with you as soon as I’m
able.”
He smiled at her
sympathetically. “Forgive me. I by no means wish you unhappy. Truly, I do not.
But neither can I consent to binding myself to a woman on the off-chance she
will fall in love with me.”
“So, you refuse to help
me?”
Turning away from her,
he said, with an indignant edge to his voice, “That is supremely unfair, Miss
Bennet. Have I not helped you already? Did I not come to your aid when you fell
off your horse? Did I not take you in when your own mother left you to my care?
Have I not kept my distance to protect you from scandal and ruin?”
The last bit astonished
her. Did he really fear what might happen if they were alone together? Were
that indeed the case, she might exploit his passions to aid her cause. Much as
she hated to resort to such deceitful measures, she could see no other way to
escape her marriage to Charles. And it would not be entirely an act; for just
now, with him sitting so near, so dangerously near, she wanted nothing more
than to be in his arms.
“What if I want you to
ruin me?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Nina Mason is an incurable romantic who strives
to write the same kind of books she loves to read: those that entertain, edify,
educate, and enlighten.
Ms. Mason, born and raised in Southern
California, currently lives in Woodstock, Georgia.
Paige is
having a marvelous time playing at Ventures. After all, what girl doesn’t love
a nice spanking now and again? On her own terms that is. A welcome reprieve from
her work as co-owner of the Shifting Hearts Dating Agency, play is exactly what
she’s looking for. In between dodging calls from her uber douchelord ex,
avoiding conversations with her hormone ridden inner kitty about a
super-hottastic dark eyed dominant, fixing up Bat girl, and getting ready for
the charity auction at the club, she has her hands full. And, damn it, why
won’t it stop raining?
His beast
called to hers.
A storm is
brewing in town but that’s nothing compared to the one in Tyler’s own life.
Being surrogate father to his strong-willed niece, and running his own
woodworking and restoration business, keeps him more than busy. When a charity
auction at Ventures provides the opportunity to spend time tied up with the
submissive both he and his cat have been lusting after, he can’t resist the
call to do good and possess her at the same time. When unforeseen circumstances
and a family crisis strike in the midst of a dangerous storm, Tyler has to come
to terms with his inner cat and the mate that could be torn from his arms
forever. Some things are worth fighting for, and fur is about to fly.
About the Author:
Erzabet
Bishop is a USA Today award winning and bestselling author of paranormal and
erotic romance. She lives in Houston, Texas and when she isn’t writing about
sexy shifters or voluptuous heroines she enjoys playing in local bookstores and
watching movies with her husband and furry kids.
Carey Baldwin has done it again. She’s conjured
a thriller that will keep you turning the pages late into the night with
COUNTDOWN, book 5 in the Cassidy & Spenser Thriller series from Witness
Impulse.
***purchased for my personal reading but
sharing an honest and unscripted review
Blurb for COUNTDOWN:
Don’t believe everything you
see.
Special Agent Atticus Spenser
and forensic psychiatrist Dr. Caitlin Cassidy are in Tahiti enjoying a
much-needed break from the FBI when they spot newlyweds taking fun photos on
the beach. But as the groom carries his bride deeper into the waves, Spense is
positive he sees a flash of terror cross her face. All his instincts scream
that this woman is in danger. Yet moments later, it’s the groom who has nearly
drowned… and the bride has vanished, leaving a bloody wedding dress floating in
her wake.
The authorities aren’t sure
who to believe—the groom, who insists his wife tried to murder him… or her
twin, who claims her sister must have acted in self-defense. Intrigued, Spense
and Caity agree to help investigate. But when they discover that the missing
bride is the daughter of a notorious confidence man, they begin to suspect that
all is not what it seems. Now they’ll need to separate victim from villain,
fact from fiction, truth from lie, to determine if there’s really a killer on
the loose… or if it’s all one big con.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Caity and Spense are in Tahiti to get married.
The last thing they want or expect is to be drawn into a mystery regarding
another couple they watch doing their photo shoot at the water’s edge after
happily getting married on the same beach where they plan to have their own
ceremony. As they watch the happy couple play and romp in the surf, everything
suddenly turns serious when it looks as if the couple might be in trouble, possibly
drowning. Spense springs to action and dives into the surf to help, with Caity
right behind him. Suddenly, nothing is as it seems. The bride pulls out a gun,
and shoots the groom, tears off her wedding dress, swims away and climbs into a
nearby boat. When the bride appears in Caity and Spense’s bungalow later that
night in her wedding undies, holding that same gun on them, they become very
involved in what turns out to be the greatest of all cons.
This is by far my favorite of the series. From
the moment I read the first page, the action started and never seemed to stop
until the very end—an ending that brought tears to my eyes. Weddings don’t
usually do that to me in books, but this one did. Caity and Spense are one of
my favorite couples not just because they solve crimes together in a unique and
sometimes, unorthodox way but because these two are truly perfect for each
other. At times, they even seem to know what the other is thinking. They are fun
together, even when aggravating each other. They are so in love with each
other, even when they are fighting their feelings for each other. So to see
them get their magic moment in the sunset was just wonderful. Especially after
solving a con perpetrated by the last person, you ever expect to be instigating
it. Excellent! Carey totally caught me by surprise.
If you love thrillers. If you love puzzles. If
you love a watching a couple fall in love, work like a team, and want an
action-packed page turning story, I highly, highly recommend COUNTDOWN, the
fifth book in the Cassidy & Spenser Thriller series. If you haven’t read
the first four, I recommend it but I suppose you could start anywhere. But if
you do, I know you’ll want to go back and experience how these two met, and how
their wonderful relationship came to be, and how it progressed to such a happy place. Thank you, Carey, for reminding me why I love this series so much.
Happy Reading Everyone!
COUNTDOWN, a Cassidy & Spenser Thriller by
Carey Baldwin, Witness Impulse, available now at Amazon,
Barnes
& Noble, and Kobobooks.
I know I’ve been away for a long while, and I
apologize for that. Family responsibilities keep me from reading at the rate I
normally do but I assure you that I am
reading, and I will continue to review any book I feel you will enjoy reading.
It’s taken me almost a year but I finally finished reading STOLEN by Carey
Baldwin. STOLEN is the fourth book in the Cassidy & Spenser series of suspense
thrillers from Witness Impulse. If you love a good edge of the seat story, this
series is for you.
***purchased for my own personal reading but sharing my
honest and unscripted review.
Blurb
for STOLEN:
Is she missing…or a
murderer?
When Laura Chaucer,
daughter of a U.S. senator, vanishes from her college campus, celebrated FBI
profilers Special Agent Atticus Spenser and forensic psychiatrist Dr. Caitlin
Cassidy are called in. Thirteen years ago, Laura and her nanny disappeared from
her family’s Denver home. Laura was found alive, but her nanny wasn’t so lucky…
and the killer was never caught. Laura could identify him—if only she didn’t
have a deep, dark hole in her memory.
Now she’s missing again.
Did the troubled young woman run away or has the kidnapper returned? As women
who look eerily similar to Laura’s nanny begin turning up dead, the Chaucer
family psychiatrist renders a disturbing opinion: Laura is unstable, a danger
to herself and others. Who knows what terrible secrets lurk in the shadowy
recesses of her mind? Cassidy and Spenser must solve one of the most infamous
cold cases ever to uncover the answer: Is Laura a killer, or is a monster still
out there, waiting to claim another victim?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Thirteen years ago, Laura Chaucer was kidnapped,
and her nanny murdered. Memories, as well as the lack of memories, have plagued
her ever since. She has also felt as if she’d yet to be freed from the
nightmare since her Senator father continued to protect and control every
aspect of her life. When she decides to change colleges and returns to a school
near the site of her kidnapping, trouble finds her again. Now she has awakened
surrounded by blood, naked, sick, and there is an all too familiar lock of hair
tied with a pink ribbon. But where is the monster from her nightmares? When
will he return to finish her off, or is it possible that she is the killing
monster all along?
Called in to be part of the task force
investigating the disappearance of Senator Chaucer’s daughter who was kidnapped
thirteen years earlier, Caitlin and Spense put their investigative and
profiling skills to work. Much to Caitlin’s chagrin and Spense’s annoyance, the
family’s therapist is also a man from Caity’s past and as far as Spense is
concerned, a possible suspect. As the evidence begins to unfold, secrets become
known, as well as possibly more victims, and suspects present themselves
including Laura Chaucer as one.
As always, Carey Baldwin manages to weave an
exciting and suspenseful thriller…and STOLEN is no exception. However, I had a
bit of problem with how, when in Laura’s point of view, she seemed already to know
Caity and Spense’s names. I also stumbled over some very obvious proofing
errors but it was the prior problem that had me holding back from being totally
hooked into the story.
However, later, as the mystery began to unfold,
I got past all of that and became completely engrossed in the who-done-it and
just when I thought I knew who it was…Carey knocked my feet out from under me
and surprised me! I will say that I pride myself in figuring out the bad guy
before the reveal, but she got me this time. Brava Carey! That made up for any
other gripe.
I highly recommend STOLEN by Carey Baldwin to
anyone who loves a good thriller with suspense, danger—physical and
psychological, bad guys seemingly crawling out of the woodwork, and secrets
that blow the story wide open as the serial killer bad guy is finally revealed.
This entire series is exceptional and although the thriller part of the stories
stand alone, the ever-increasing intimate relationship between Caitlin and
Spense lends to this series being read in order. By the way, there’s a big
romantic gesture in this one. And just so I don’t miss out, I’m moving directly
on to reading book five in the series, COUNTDOWN.
Happy Reading Everyone!
STOLEN, a Cassidy-Spenser thriller by Carey
Baldwin, Witness Impulse, available now at Amazon,
Barnes
& Noble, and Kobobooks.
In ancient Greece,
one of the twelve labours of Heracles was to bring back a golden apple from the
Garden of Hesperides. To archaeologist Oriel Anderson, joining a team of Greek
divers on the island of Helios seems like the golden apple of her dreams.
Yet the dream
becomes a nightmare when she meets the devilish owner of the island, Damian
Lekkas. In shocked recognition, she is flooded with the memory of a romantic
night in a stranger’s arms, six summers ago. A very different man stands before
her now, and Oriel senses that the sardonic Greek autocrat is hell-bent on
playing a cat and mouse game with her.
As they cross
swords and passions mount, Oriel is aware that malevolent eyes watch her from
the shadows. Dark rumours are whispered about the Lekkas family. What dangers
lie in Helios, a bewitching land where ancient rituals are still enacted to
appease the gods, young men risk their lives in the treacherous depths of the
Ionian Sea, and the volatile earth can erupt at any moment?
Will Oriel find the
hidden treasures she seeks? Or will Damian’s tragic past catch up with them,
threatening to engulf them both?
EXCERPT:
Oriel had been sitting
on the boulder for a long time, gazing distractedly towards the water, when she
became vaguely aware of something moving in the shallows. The moon had by now disappeared
behind a bank of cloud, extinguishing the glitter of the waves and the silvery
patina on the rocks. The shift in darkness of the night sky made it difficult
to see what had rippled the surface of the water. Frogmen night diving, she
thought, or the slight undulation of the sea in the warm, salty breeze. She
didn’t give it another thought, returning her attention to the winking lights
of fishing boats on the horizon – and then, abruptly, he emerged …
It was a man, but not
one wearing a wetsuit, fins or diving mask; this one was almost naked, his
modesty barely protected by what could only be defined as an apology for a
low-rise brief. He was no mere trick of the light. Sleek and glorious, he was
suddenly hurtling out of the water, throwing spray off his body like Poseidon
rising from the waves.
Oriel’s breath caught in
her throat as she watched him, a small frown crinkling her brow. A curious
sense of apprehension seeped into her veins. In the near-darkness he looked
large, somewhat menacing and disturbingly masculine as he strode through the shallows.
There was an air of unquestioned dominance about this man, an arrogant power
that expressed itself in the controlled motion of his body as he sauntered on
to the beach.
For that fateful minute,
she was totally helpless, in the grip of emotions too basic to be controlled by
rational thought. Instead of turning to leave quickly, she continued to stare
at the stranger who had materialized like a Greek god wading from the depths of
the sea. The moon slid into view again, throwing a wash of silver over long
muscular legs and narrow hips, wide shoulders and a sculpted torso, all
combined in a vibrantly athletic stance. As his approaching form became more
discernible, each smooth, fluid curve of muscle, each long line of sinew and
bone, and each angular feature glistened with a radiance that stabbed Oriel
straight to the heart. Hair as dark as the devil’s soul was dripping wet across
his forehead and he lifted his hand to slick it away from his face, the
moonlight catching every droplet that glittered like tiny diamonds across his
skin.
All at once, Oriel
gathered her wits, conscious that she too was only lightly clad, just a muslin
sarong covering her bikini. She remembered her mother’s warning that it wasn’t
wise for a woman to venture out alone on a deserted beach, and she stood up to
hurry back to her hotel, quickly tucking the letter and photograph into her
sarong.
Too late! She had barely
taken a step before she found herself confronted by the tall, dark figure. Well
above the average height of other Greek men, he towered over her, a dark
silhouette against the moonlit sky. His eyes gleamed like steel against his
deeply tanned skin as his gaze wandered over her and then rested upon her hair,
which cascaded heavily down her back, pale and shining as the moon on the
water. He had a strong masculine face, rather insolent and somewhat primitive –
so much so that despite the tinge of fear fluttering through her, Oriel
couldn’t help but feel mesmerized by this Adonis.
‘What brings a beautiful
girl to such a deserted place on this enchanting night?’ he asked in English.
His obvious Greek accent gave a delightful, smoky edge to his deep voice and
sent an involuntary warmth up her spine. Slicking back his wet dark hair once
more, he studied her openly. ‘You look like the ocean nymph, Calypso, waiting
for Odysseus on your island, ready to bewitch him with your mesmerizing voice.’
Oriel had been too
startled, too alarmed, to reply at first. His comment was unexpected, and those
glittering grey eyes seemed to hold her prisoner, flickering with amusement and
something more intense. It was she who was bewitched.
‘I thought I was alone,’
she murmured, finally finding her voice.
His mouth quirked. ‘So
did I.’ He nodded behind him. ‘I dropped anchor back there to come in for an
evening swim. It’s been a hot day.’ His eyes returned to her, intent and
appraising.
Oriel’s gaze flitted
away and caught sight of a small boat, moored next to the rocks to her left.
Partially obscured by the craggy ridge that shaped the deserted cove, only the
top of the sail was visible, billowing gently in the balmy breeze. She’d been
too preoccupied by her brooding thoughts to notice its arrival.
She felt an urge to push
past this handsome stranger and run away to the safety of her hotel bedroom,
but something about this man had held her there, transfixed. The intriguing
power of his personality gripped her imagination. This stranger could have
stepped straight out of Homer’s Odyssey.
A silky platinum lock
slipped from the scarf Oriel had tied around her head in a band to keep her
heavy, tumbling mane in place, and the breeze blew it across her face. He
reached out a bronzed hand with tapering long fingers and lightly pushed the
strand away, before caressing the length of her hair almost reverently. There
was a sultry burn now in the gaze that wandered from her hair to her mouth and
then settled on Oriel’s wild doe eyes, which stared back at him. Her stomach
curled with instinctive heat.
She felt the impulse to
escape, like a fawn fleeing into the brush. Instead, she stood there, pulse
racing, her legs trembling as an unfamiliar and exquisite sensation flooded the
lower part of her body. It was madness! Never before had this sense of danger –
of seduction – hit her with such potency. Surely it was the island air that had
gone to her head like an enchanted potion.
The dark waves murmured
on the sand, their gently rolling edges lit a luminous blue under the
moonlight. Everything was cloaked in unreality and it was as if the two of them
were caught in a dream. Oriel sensed that the mysterious stranger before her
was also aware of the extraordinary atmosphere that engulfed them.
His fingers were still
touching her hair and she backed away. This man was so overwhelming, and she
was disoriented. In a sudden, desperate panic, Oriel turned to run, hardly
looking where she was going, her bare feet stumbling through the wet sand in
the silver-washed half light. Before she had time to register it, her foot came
into contact with something hard and she tripped and went sprawling forwards.
In the same split second she was jerked sideways by a pair of muscular arms as
the Greek god sprang forward and caught hold of her, their bodies colliding in
mid-air.
Oriel gave a choked cry.
The stranger fell with her, holding her, his body going into a complicated
twist just before they hit the sand so that she landed on top of him, the fall
softened for her by his body. She lay winded for an instant; then, before she
was over the shock, he took her by the shoulders and gently slid her from him
sideways. She found herself on her back, staring up at the milky moonlit sky.
His bulk arched over her, blotting out the moon with the dark circle of his
head, and she looked wildly up at him as the weight of his muscled body pressed
down, splaying her against the sand.
‘Don’t!’ she cried out,
struggling in his arms. His skin was hot and smooth, and she fought the impulse
to relax and let herself melt into him.
The stranger’s eyes
glittered and held hers beneath the perfect arc of black eyebrows. ‘You were
headed for a nasty fall on that rock, you should look where you’re going.’ His
was a face out of Greek tragedy itself. It was so close to hers that Oriel felt
his warm breath on her cheek and her pulse quickened; with it came an acute
awareness: the needs she had suppressed for years were suddenly rushing to the
surface. An aching feeling was invading her lower limbs, a strange weakness. It
was magnified a hundredfold when he leapt to his feet and a strong brown hand
helped her up, his powerful frame looming over her. His silver eyes skimmed the
taut curve of her breasts and she prayed her flimsy bikini top was displaying
no signs of her arousal.
He didn’t let go of her
hand as his eyes bored into hers. ‘You’re trembling, beautiful Calypso.’
Oriel blinked. He was
terrifyingly attractive. She pulled her hand from his, now embarrassed at her
clumsy attempt to flee. ‘It’s nothing. Thank you.’
His sensuous lips
stretched into a slow smile, uncovering a row of pure white teeth. ‘You must
have been here centuries ago, waiting for me on your island.’ Even his speech
was theatrical. She found herself returning his smile and entered into the
spirit.
‘And who were you?’ she
breathed, the question almost catching in her throat; she already knew the
answer.
‘Odysseus, of course.
Remember? I was shipwrecked and washed up on the shore of this island. You fell
in love with me and held me prisoner, but you weaved your magic spell over me
with your beautiful long hair, spun from moonbeams, your mesmerizing voice and
enticing body, and your manipulative ways.’
Oh, he was daring and
arrogant – and irresistible, too. Despite herself, Oriel took up his allusion
of the ancient Greek myth and ventured boldly down the same path, perilous
though it was. ‘And even though I promised to make you immortal, you refused
and wanted to return to Ithaca and your wife.’
Now it was the
stranger’s turn to look surprised. He regarded her with amusement. ‘We made
love and I was lost for seven years.’
‘But it was me who saved
you and built the boat that eventually took you home.’
Finally he laughed,
transforming the hardness of his features into an expression that was
devastating, making Oriel’s heart leap. Even the sound of his laughter was
huskily exotic. ‘Maybe you do not believe in the reincarnation of souls,’ he
said. ‘I’ve never really thought about it.’
The images he evoked
made Oriel long for him to take her in his arms, to be clasped by those strong
hands that had stroked her hair with such gentleness … To lose herself beneath
that powerful body again.
Surrounded by such
beauty and serenaded by the sea, it was as though they were trapped in time.
Maybe it was the lingering adrenaline of her anger at the contents of the
letter and her heightened nervous system. Perhaps it was the nature of this
deserted place that made everything seem like an alluring fantasy. Or maybe it
was simply that this man was unlike any other Oriel had ever met. He was no
Odysseus, she decided: that Greek hero had been a mere mortal. Indeed this man
seemed the personification of Poseidon himself.
His eyes glinted darkly
and pinned her with their glimmering steel, setting her nerves tingling. Had he
read her thoughts? Was he aware of the emotions he had stirred up as he plucked
at needs deep within her that no one had yet aroused? Oriel’s was dry, her lips
parched, and she passed the tip of her tongue over them.
Oh Lord, there was no
sense to this!
Shocked at her
disturbing reaction, she stepped forward to move past him. ‘I’m sorry … I need
to go,’ she murmured, but his fingers caught hold of her wrist. She felt the
strength of them, before his thumb brushed sensually against her skin,
caressing it, melting her very insides.
‘Don’t break the spell,’
he said faintly, his voice low and hoarse. Close to this man, every sensible
instinct told Oriel that she had been right to make a run for it, but as the
shifting moonlight caught and held in his irises, she stared into them,
profoundly aware of his dark masculine beauty and power. Sometimes it took only
a single glance to say everything and, in that moment, she felt her old beliefs
crumble inexorably around her. She lowered her eyes and a frisson of emotion
ran through her body.
FROM THE
AUTHOR:
When I was a child, my governess told me fairy stories. These
tales, full of superstition and magic, were my first inspiration, and the
warmth and colour they still evoke greatly influence my writing. They were also
the experience through which I learned to become a storyteller, as my governess
and I had an agreement – whenever she told me a story, I would have to tell her
one in return.
As a
novelist, I am obsessed by vivid colours, lush landscapes and tales of exotic
customs in far-off lands. I can trace much of this back to a dear and
long-departed friend of my family, Mr. Chiumbo Wangai, who fascinated me as a
teenager with stories of the witch-doctors and magical ceremonies in his native
Kenya. When I visited the country myself, I soon fell in love with its
beautiful countryside and unforgettable sunsets.
Though I
have been telling stories since I was a child, it was only after my children
had grown up and my husband and I had turned our family business into a success
that I felt I could devote myself to writing full time. After I dug out the
various ideas and sketches I had jotted down over the years, I realised how
profoundly my travels throughout Europe, the Mediterranean and particularly
Africa had burned themselves into my memory. I felt driven to turn them into a
novel.
The mystery, magic, heat and passion of Kenya’s landscapes
inspired me to use them as the setting for my first novel. Burning
Embers, a passionate love story set against the backdrop of
the country in 1970. My later travels through Europe provided rich fodder for
more stories, including my novels The Echoes of Love, set in Venice and
Tuscany, Italy; and the AndalucÃan Nights trilogy,
set in the smouldering heat of AndalucÃa, Spain.
