Showing posts with label Contemporary Fiction. Show all posts

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PEGASUS #Excerpt by Marilyn Holdsworth @M_Holdsworth #MustRead #Women #Contemporary

Posted on Friday, December 26, 2014

HANNAH RIDES PEGASUS ON A RACE TRACK
from the novel PEGASUS by Marilyn Holdsworth

Hannah slowed Pegasus to a walk as they entered the gate of the ranch's old training track at the far end of the paddock. Once inside the ring, Pegasus pawed the dirt eagerly, flicked his ears forward looking down the long stretch toward the first turn.

“Think you’ve seen somethin’ like this before, fella? I just bet you have.” She leaned forward to smooth his arched neck, tightened her grip on the rope and wound her fingers more firmly into his mane. “Okay boy. Let’s see what you remember.” Hannah crouched low on the horse, speaking softly as he pawed and pranced impatiently. Then suddenly she dug her heels sharply into his sides. “Go,” she yelled. “Go boy, go.” Her heels pummeled him and she slapped the rope against his neck.
Pegasus responded instantly, lunging beneath her into a full gallop, he bolted down the track. 

Thundering toward the first turn, he hugged the rail, his powerful stride lengthening as he rocketed on toward the backstretch. Hannah held on, hair streaming in the wind , her chanting words, “Go, boy go,” drown out by his pounding hooves. She clung to his neck , girl and horse melded into one as they streaked around the course.

 She caught a blurred glimpse of two figures standing by the rail as she flashed past. And when at last Pegasus slowed and she was finally able to pull him up, she saw Win vault over the fence. He reached her just in time to catch her as she slid to the ground.

“My God, Hannah, you could have been killed. What the hell did you think you were doing?  It’s a wonder you weren’t thrown and trampled. And Pegasus, you could have lamed him,” Win seethed.

You can read more about Pegasus at: http://marilynholdsworth.com/pegasus/


As a novelist, I draw on many real life experiences to provide background for my books. After completing studies in Literature and History at Occidental College, I became a staff writer on a travel magazine, and throughout my career I have traveled extensively all over the world. Because I love horses, I owned and trained them. I support horse rescue and wild mustang preservation. Based on my experience with horses and my research on abuse issues, I wrote Pegasus.

As a descendant of James Monroe, I did extensive research at the James Monroe Museum in Virginia about him and his wife Elizabeth Kortright Monroe. I also visited their home, Ashlawn/Highland in Albemarle County. This resulted in my novel, The Beautiful American. Making Wishes, was based partly on my experiences as creator, owner and operator of a greeting card company.

Making Wishes

Elloree Prince is an attractive, creative young woman who marries a wealthy businessman, Tom Randall. After courting his bride with unrelenting determination, Tom moves her into old-moneyed Oak View, where generations of Randalls have lived for years. Outwardly, Elloree appears to settle into raising their two sons within Oak View's stifling social structure, but inwardly, she yearns for her artistic work. 

An unexpected phone call from Mark Williams, her former employer, offers her the career opportunity of a lifetime, and she must make a choice. She is torn between her devotion to her sons and her love for her work. Her decision to return to Wishes, Inc. brings dramatic life changes to her and the people she loves.

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Genre - Women's fiction
Rating – PG-13

beautifulAmerican

"Abby Long is thrilled when she offers the winning bid for an antique desk at an auction. With its intricately inlaid woods and elegant style, the desk is perfect for Abby; it is the gift she promised herself to finally celebrate her thriving antique business. She has no idea that the antique desk holds a secret that will lead her on a fascinating, life-changing journey back in time.
When Abby discovers a hidden diary stuffed inside a secret compartment in the desk, she can hardly wait to read the spidery, faded script. As she carefully turns the tattered pages, she reads the captivating story of two remarkable women from opposite backgrounds who somehow manage to form an unforgettable bond against the backdrop of a fledgling America struggling to find its place in the world. Elizabeth Kortright Monroe, the wife of James Monroe, and Jasmine, a young slave girl, develop an extraordinary relationship as they are united by pivotal historic events, political intrigues, and personal tragedies.
 From a bucolic Virginia plantation to the bloodied, starving streets of post-revolutionary Paris, this powerful tale follows the lives of two courageous women from the past as they quietly influence—and inspire—a woman of today’s world."

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Genre - Historical fiction
Rating – G

pegasus

Widowed at thirty, Hannah Bradley is a successful journalist focusing on animal abuse issues. An accidental meeting introduces her to lawyer, Winston Caughfield III. Drawn to Hannah’s gentle beauty and fierce commitment to her work, Win joins her in a fight to save wild mustangs from slaughter. Together they rescue a badly injured horse with a mysterious background. Hannah’s search to discover the animal’s true identity leads them into a web of black marketeering and international intrigue. 
Action packed with crisp colorful dialogue the story propels the reader to a race against time conclusion. Marilyn Holdsworth delivers a gripping tale of mystery, adventure and romance guaranteed to hold the interest and capture the heart. She brings true-life characters together with real-life issues to create a fast-paced irresistible story.

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Genre - Contemporary fiction
Rating – PG
More details about the author
 Connect with Marilyn Holdsworth on Facebook & Twitter

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WITNESS TO MY HEART by Loni Flowers @LoniFlowers #Excerpt #Romance #GoodReads

Posted on Saturday, October 11, 2014

“Do you know how great that bathing suit fits you?” he commented.

I was surprised by the unexpected compliment. “Thanks. It’s definitely not the bikini I should have been wearing, according to Caroline.”

“You can see just as much in a bra and panties, which I’ve already seen.”

“Only the bra,” I corrected him.

“Personally, I’ve always preferred a woman in a one-piece. The way it molds to the skin… perfectly outlining every delectable curve on her body. There’s only one thing sexier than that.”

“Oh yeah? And what is that?”

“Nakedness.”

When I didn’t respond to his answer, Max plucked my empty bottle from my hand and set both bottles on the on top ledge of the pool behind my shoulder as he moved in closer. “Shall I get you another?”

I shifted back a bit. “No, I’m good. I hope you’re not trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me?”

He took another step closer. “You accepted the beers. I didn’t make you drink them, or ask you to get in the pool. And I would never force myself on a woman just to get what I want.”

“Is that because alcohol makes it so much easier for you?” I retreated another step and my back reached the tiled side, indicating I had nowhere else to go.

“The alcohol means nothing; and the fact that you brought it up tells me you’re trying to find an excuse. What I’m trying to figure out is: do you want me more right now? Or that day I pushed you against the wall? Or was it when you came out of the bathroom last night, dressed in a tight, little tank top and shorts?”

My heart started racing at his sudden forwardness, but I couldn’t let him get to me. “I see the decent conversation we enjoyed tonight has ended. Now you’re full of delusional assumptions.”

“Your eyes give you away.”

As soon as he said that, I stared into the water. There was only about an inch of space between us.

“And so does your breathing. I affect you more than you realize, or will admit.”

“You’re so full of yourself. I just met you. I don’t even know you.”

“I’m only stating the facts. You want me and you can’t even admit you do.”

“I do not! I’m not sure what gave you that idea.”

“The gaze in your eyes, your increased breathing, your mouth, hell your whole body reacts to me when I’m around. I can even smell it on you!” Max raised his arms and put them on each side of my head as he gripped the ledge with each hand. Water trickled down his arms and dripped back into the pool. “When I’m this close, your body sends out pheromones and signals, like it is calling me. Your hands find their way to my skin… like now.”

My hands were pressed against his chest. Like a magnet, they were drawn to him over and over again without any forethought on my part. Closing the gap between us, Max pressed his body against mine and I found it hard to resist the moan that nearly escaped my mouth.

Leaning down, his lips barely brushed mine when he spoke. “And right now, you’re wondering what it would feel like to have my lips tasting yours. Possessing you. But I won’t take what I want, Abi. So, tell me… what do you want?”

Witness to my Heart

Keep a low profile. That's what Abigale Peterson was supposed to do, especially when the person she was being protected from was one of the world's worst crime lords. After seven years in the Witness Protection Program, she felt no safer now than she did when she was seventeen. Revenge was rarely forgotten when it came to a professional criminal like Zerilli.

Low profiles meant no social life and definitely no love life.

Paranoia and lies became daily habits, going against everything Abigale believed in, but they kept her safe. They kept everyone safe.

Until a house fire puts her out of that safety and into the arms of a stranger. Max Smith is sexy, smart, and has major attitude. He’s the only one who seems to get her. He calms her fears and comforts her from her nightmares. But he also sees right through her lies.

Before Abigale can stop, she’s in too deep; confiding too much and breaking the one rule she promised herself to uphold: Never fall in love.

Buy Now @ Amazon
Genre – Contemporary Romance
Rating – R
More details about the author
Connect with Loni Flowers through Facebook & Twitter

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A LIFE LESS ORDINARY #Excerpt by Victoria Bernadine @VicBernadine #Women #ChickLit

Posted on Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Manny glanced up as her assistant energetically bounced in.
“Morning, Manny.”
“Morning, Roxie. How was your evening?”
“Great–went to that new Robert Downey Jr. movie–rrrooowwwrrrr! Phil wasn’t too impressed with my drooling though.”
Manny laughed. “I’d expect not. I guess I need to go see it then.”
“Yeah, sure. When was the last time you actually went to a movie in the theatre?”
Manny paused, considering the question then shrugged carelessly. “Can’t remember, actually.”
Roxie shook her head in exasperated fondness and sat down in front of Manny’s desk. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “So, the new boss starts today?”
“Yep,” Manny replied absently, reviewing the e-mails in her inbox.
“Are you going to be okay with this? I mean, you–”
“Of course I’m okay with it. Steph’s a nice person, bright, energetic, competent, levelheaded, full of new ideas. She may have a bit of a learning curve ahead of her, but she’ll do just fine. She may be just what we need around here. Perk us up a bit.”
“Yeah, but you–”
Manny took her hands off the keyboard and turned to face Roxie directly. She gave her a reassuring smile and calmly held her gaze.
“I’m okay with it,” she said. “Really. I didn’t want to be the boss anyway.” She paused then continued. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see. A new boss will be fun!”
Roxie grimaced cynically and Manny shook her head in mock disapproval.
“We should get to work,” she urged gently.
Roxie nodded and stood. “Yeah, that at least never changes. But Manny…”
Manny raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“It should’ve been you.”

For the last fifteen years, Rose “Manny” Mankowski has been a very good girl. She turned her back on her youthful fancies and focused on her career. But now, at the age of 45, she’s questioning her choices and feeling more and more disconnected from her own life. When she’s passed over for promotion and her much younger new boss implies Manny’s life will never change, something snaps. In the blink of an eye, she’s quit her job, sold her house and cashed in her pension, and she’s leaving town on a six month road trip.
After placing a personal ad for a travelling companion, she’s joined in her mid-life crisis by Zeke Powell, the cynical, satirical, most-read – and most controversial – blogger for the e-magazine, What Women Want. Zeke’s true goal is to expose Manny’s journey as a pitiful and desperate attempt to reclaim her lost youth – and increase his readership at the same time. Leaving it all behind for six months is just an added bonus.
Now, armed with a bagful of destinations, a fistful of maps, and an out-spoken imaginary friend named Harvey, Manny’s on a quest to rediscover herself – and taking Zeke along for the ride.
Buy Now @ Amazon & Smashwords
Genre – ChickLit, Contemporary Fiction
Rating – PG-13
More details about the author
 Connect with Victoria Bernadine on Twitter

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Olga Soaje Shares Top for Creating a Great Work Area #WriteTip #AmWriting #Women

Posted on Thursday, May 8, 2014

When I read this post topic, my mind raced with images of a perfect table with a soothing candle and peace all around or maybe a coffee shop with some hot latte and a cozy chair on the corner. Either of those could fit perfectly for me on any given day, but the reality is inspiration hits by spaces and you can’t always make the perfect place every day.  

I try and always carry a piece of paper with me and write ideas as they materialize though the day, when I finally get the opportunity to sit in front of a keyboard I take the time and make the most of it. I doesn’t matter  if I’m at my sons basketball practice, on a coffee shop waiting to pick one of them up or home between errands, the time I have it’s just me and the characters I want to bring to life with words, the only things that’s needed for me is not the space but music. In all of these places the only thing that’s a must are ear buds and music the rest is divinely delivered.



Can anything good follow the best thing that ever happened to you?
Amelia Weiss loved her husband of thirty-five years very much, but now he’s left her a widow. Without him, she is unable to work in her sculpture studio without crying. She no longer has a bridge to her estranged daughter. And she can’t seem to keep her mind in the present.
But when her daughter reaches out asking for her help and her agent threatens a lawsuit if Amelia doesn’t deliver for an upcoming exhibit, she’s forced to make a choice. Will she reengage with her life and the people in it—allowing room for things to be different than they were before? Or, will she remain stuck in the past, choosing her memories over real-life relationships?
Thrust fully into the present, Amelia stumbles into a surprising journey of self-discovery.
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Genre – Contemporary Fiction, Literary Fiction, Women’s Fiction
Rating – PG-13
More details about the author
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"Shy Feet: #ShortStories Inspired by #Travel" by Frances M Thompson @BushBirdie #Contemporary

Posted on Friday, March 14, 2014

The following is an extract from The Flowers Sleep Tonight, one of the twelve short stories in Shy Feet: Short Stories Inspired by Travel.
THE FLOWERS SLEEP TONIGHT
Her 
I chose an empty table and waited to find out which of the square’s restaurants was going to look after me. A waistcoated man with a dark frown eventually approached and I ordered quickly. The Rioja was fiery, the patatas bravas left my lips tingling and the chorizo was beautifully blood red.
My plates removed and my belly full, I started to daydream about the ocean and how its cool spray would linger on my face when I walked my mother’s dogs along Curl Curl beach. I imagined my sister up on the CentralCoast, raising chooks and children against the soundtrack of the kookaburra. I could return to either of these places to reclaim a life, or I could set up in a place of my own. Melbourne or Perth, perhaps? On my own. I was starting to think I’d be okay with that.
My thoughts were interrupted by a foreign voice speaking English and I assumed it was the waiter offering me coffee. But when I looked up, there was the shock of a familiar face.
Him 
“Can I sit down?”
She blinked and it seemed to shimmer down her body. It was a shudder; she recognised me.
“May I…?”  I asked again.
Her mouth gaped open, but she gestured to the chair next to her.
“Thank you.” I sat and smiled. “How are you?”
“I’m… I’m okay,” she replied in a whisper. “How…” She coughed. “How are you?”
“Good. Thank you.” I kept my backpack on my lap because of what was inside. I knew she’d forgotten my name. Maybe she never knew it.
“Well, this is a… coincidence.” She reached for her glass of wine, her lips twisting into a smile I’d never forget. I ordered a beer.
“No, it is not a coincidence,” I said.
Her forehead gathered in a frown and I noticed new freckles on her nose.
“I knew you were in Barcelona so I came here to find you,” I explained.
“You came to find me?”
“You left Mexico so quickly after we… after we were together. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”
She leaned back abruptly, knocking her back against her chair. “But Mexico was… It was just a… Mexico was a long time ago.”
“Five months and three weeks.” I let the time hang in the air.
Her
“It’s Thomas, isn’t it?” Memories started to flood back in uncomfortable, wild waves.
He nodded, pretending to not be hurt.
“So, what are you doing here?”
“I told you. I saw that you were here and so I came to find you.”
“From Germany?”
“No, Italy. I was working there, but my contract finished yesterday.”
“What do you do?” I didn’t have the first clue.
“I’m a cameraman.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and I also do some other things, film producing and editing.”
“Like, for movies?”
“Kind of. Well, no. Not big films. Not Hollywood.” His nose twitched when he smiled. “Some short films for friends. But I’ve actually been trying to do other things too so I can work as I travel.”
“You didn’t go back to Germany after Mexico?”
“No, I’ve not been back to Germany for over two years.” I noticed that his eyes were very dark, almost black. They clashed with his mousey crop of hair.
“You’ve been travelling this whole time? And working as you go?”
“Yes.”
“And what are these other things you’ve been doing?”
“Photography, that’s what I want to do. And it’s much easier to do while I keep travelling. I don’t need to look for contracts. I just have to sell my photos.”
I pinched the stem of my glass. My cheeks were warm from the wine, but I was thinking clearly. He scared me, just like he did in Mexico. I ran away from him back then. I could do it again, if I wanted to. This time it would be easier, I knew where I was going next. I was going home.
“And you never go home?”
“Define home…?” He faced me and I felt his stare slice into me. I shivered again despite the warm, sticky air that cloaked us.
“So, are you any good? At photography?” I changed the subject.
“Would you like to see some of my photos?” he asked, his eyebrows raised high over those deep, dark eyes.
Him 
Now was the time. Now was when I did what I came to do. Five months, three weeks, two days. I was within breathing, touching, finishing distance of her. It was time to show her.
ShyFeet
"This collection of stories is like a blanket woven from 100% wanderlust under which you can hide as Frances M. Thompson tucks you in with her words and keeps you warm with her descriptions of characters you'll love and places you can tell she knows by heart." Gesa Neitzel, www.bedouinwriter.com
Shy Feet: Short Stories Inspired by Travel is a collection of twelve quirky, charismatic and touching tales of travel.
The inquisitive Ruth tells the story of The Lost Children of Gatwick Airport and in Max's Holiday we learn what a seven-year-old boy considers a "proper holiday" to be. In The Flowers Sleep Tonight, we meet Thomas and Carly, two solo travellers whose paths keep crossing... because that's exactly what Thomas wants. A spontaneous plan to elope is revealed in The Runaways and Homes from Homes is about the lessons Patricia learns from the hotel bellboy she has a fling with. Oh, Henry is the story of how a dream holiday can mean two different things to two lovers and Katie's Maps is an offbeat love letter to a vast collection of maps. Extracts from a travel journal tell one woman's life story in All the Beaches are Made of Pebbles and find out what Australia and underpants have to do with Claudia wanting to leave her husband of forty years in The Road is Long.
From the unforgiving Australian Outback to the jagged beauty of the Amalfi Coast, along the pebbled beaches of Brighton & Hove and down the busy streets of late night Barcelona, this collection of short stories highlights how travel intersects and enriches all of our lives, often without us realising it...
"Shy Feet: Short Stories Inspired by Travel transports you to exotic locales without leaving your armchair and leaves you wanting more... Frances M. Thompson has a novel in her and I can't wait to read it." Nathalie Harris, www.acooknotmad.com
Buy Now @ Amazon & Smashwords
Genre – Short Stories, Contemporary Fiction
Rating – PG13
More details about the author
Connect with Frances M Thompson on Facebook & Twitter

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Along The Watchtower by David Litwack @DavidLitwack #Excerpt #Fantasy #AmReading

Posted on Saturday, February 15, 2014

Physical Therapy
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. In less than a minute, I found myself in physical therapy. Like the rest of the hospital, the room was green-tile sterile, but someone had made an effort to cheer it up. Porcelain clowns lined the windowsill. Stuffed circus animals—lions and elephants and a family of monkeys—surrounded the rack that held the free weights. And a variety of fresh-cut flowers had been set in mugs in the cup holder for each exercise bicycle and treadmill. Later, I’d learn from Ralph that Becky kept them fresh, paying for them out of her own pocket. He said she’d deny it, but he’d seen her sneak in on more than one Monday morning with an armful.
Fresh-cut flowers. Mom used to get them every Monday as well, to brighten up the gingerbread house. But after Dad died, she started leaving them too long, not replacing them until they’d decayed so badly they smelled. After Joey died, she stopped buying them altogether.
The girl I met in the courtyard stood over a rolling aluminum table, organizing things I didn’t much like the look of. She was sufficiently absorbed that she didn’t notice us until Ralph called out.
“Afternoon, Becky. Brought you some fresh meat.”
She turned and grinned. “Always love a new victim.”
“Great. I’ll leave you two alone. Sounds like you need some privacy.”
After he left, she went back to finishing her preparations, making me wait. Finally, she came over and extended a hand.
“We already met, but let’s make it official. You’re Lt. Williams, but I can call you Freddie. I’m your worst nightmare, but you can call me Becky.”
I reached out and shook her hand. She didn’t seem scary.
“Ralph says you’re the best, that if anybody can bring me back, you can.”
“Ralph’s wrong. I’m just the guide. You’re going to do most of the work.”
“But are you the best?”
“Let’s say I haven’t lost one yet.”
“So I’ll be back on the basketball court in no time.”
Her grin vanished. She grabbed a chair, dragged it over and sat next to me.
“We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, Freddie, so we need to be straight with each other, right from the outset. My goal is to get you back to as normal a life as possible. If you work hard, I’ll have you out of that wheelchair and on crutches in a month. A month after that, maybe a cane. Beyond that, we’ll see. I make no promises other than to work as hard as you will.”
She stared at me. I stared back, captivated by my reflection in her gray-green eyes. She blinked first and went back to the rolling table.
. . . . . . .
She sat down again and undid the Velcro from my brace.
I winced. I hadn’t looked at my leg much since my peek the week before. The incision was less angry and the oozing had stopped. But what shocked me were the muscles. Where once I had bulges, now there were hollows. Not the leg of an athlete or soldier. Not the leg of a guy who might someday dunk. The leg of an invalid. Becky’s words rattled around in my brain. Crutches, then a cane. After that, we’ll see.
“It may not be pretty,” she said, as if she’d read my mind, “but it’s yours. Take a good look. Let it motivate you when you start making progress. And trust me, you will make progress.”
She squeezed some ointment from a tube onto her hands and rubbed them together.
“This will feel a little cold.”
She spread the ointment, swirling her fingertips over what had once been my quad. When she started the e-stim treatment, I felt the muscle spasm and contract involuntarily, a strange but not entirely unpleasant feeling. As she slid the wand around, humming along to its buzz, I noticed her touch more than the current.
She spoke out of nowhere. “I read the report. Says you have no family.”
I kept staring at her making figure-eights on my leg.
“Is that right?” she said.
I nodded.
“What happened?”
“I was born an orphan.”
She turned off the e-stim and looked up at me.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Ralph said you don’t talk much.”
“I talk when I want to. I don’t want to talk now.”
“Fine with me.” She resumed the treatment, hummed a few more bars, and then spoke without looking up. “Ralph was right about another thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You are a hard case.”
She was quiet after that, going about her job while I focused on the clowns at the windowsill. Every now and then, I’d sneak a look at her. A beautiful, happy optimist. But she’d never lived my life.
Crutches and a cane. After that, we’ll see. I was different from her—a realist. I knew what “we’ll see” meant. I’d need more than physical therapy to bring me back. I’d need a miracle.
AlongtheWatchtower
WINNER: Readers' Favorite Book 2013 Bronze Award Winner, Drama Category -Fiction
A Tragic Warrior Lost in Two Worlds...
The war in Iraq ended for Lieutenant Freddie Williams when an IED explosion left his mind and body shattered. Once he was a skilled gamer and expert in virtual warfare. Now he's a broken warrior, emerging from a medically induced coma to discover he's inhabiting two separate realities. The first is his waking world of pain, family trials, and remorse--and slow rehabilitation through the tender care of Becky, his physical therapist. The second is a dark fantasy realm of quests, demons, and magic that Freddie enters when he sleeps.
In his dreams he is Frederick, Prince of Stormwind, who must make sense of his horrific visions in order to save his embattled kingdom from the monstrous Horde. His only solace awaits him in the royal gardens, where the gentle words of the beautiful gardener, Rebecca, calm the storms in his soul. While in the conscious world, the severely wounded vet faces a strangely similar and equally perilous mission--a journey along a dark road haunted by demons of guilt and memory--and letting patient, loving Becky into his damaged and shuttered heart may be his only way back from Hell.
Buy Now @ Amazon
Genre – Contemporary Fiction, Fantasy
Rating – PG
More details about the author
Connect with David Litwack on Facebook & Twitter