The Perpetual by Cindy Kehagiaras blitz with giveaway
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
The Perpetual: Cindy’s Version
Cindy Kehagiaras
(Tennent Surf, #1)
Publication date: September 17th 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
“CINDY’S VERSION” (like Taylor)
Shelly is a disciplined, schedule-loving attorney whose has written an internationally beloved romance novel based on an affair she had in the 1990s, her early twenties, with sexy, nomadic, professional surfer, Jason Mattis, whom she only saw once a year for five years in a row.
When Jason shows up to her book signing in 2019, she must come to terms with the fact that their chemistry is still as hot as it was thirty years ago. Before they can explore any rekindling, he gets a phone call that pulls Shelly into a part of his life that was previously unknown to her, involving an oil heiress, a Central American gangster and his menopausal wife, an antique crucifix, a group of women who are kindred spirits, and the undeniable attraction to Jason after all those years.
The Perpetual will make you believe in second chances at love, female friendship bonds, untapped personal strength and feeling sexy at any age.
The Perpetual won the coveted “Stiletto Award” for Contemporary Romance in 2023 and made the semi finals in the BBNYA Independent Book Awards in 2024.
This is Book One in the “Tennent Surf” series and this version is MY EDITS.
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Author Bio:
“The Perpetual,” my over 40-second chance romance, has won the coveted “Stiletto Award” by Contemporary Romance Writers in the Mid-length Contemporary Romance category.
BIO: My writing journey began after my 50th birthday, and the pandemic lockdown allowed me to write. Some of my stories have haunted my dreams for decades. When the characters shouted day and night, I knew I had to write about them. These days I love to read and write
stories about second chances with GenX characters in over 40, later in life, and mature steamy romances.
My previous lives have been in advertising, fashion, and small business owner. I’ve made it my life’s ambition to push through the challenges of dyslexia to consume novels, poetry, and articles and tell my stories.
A proud native Californian, I live in Hermosa Beach, CA, with my husband of 17 years, two beautiful kids, and two spunky-rescue kitties.
Please find me on all social media platforms.
GIVEAWAY!
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Runaway Hearts by Elsa Jacobs blitz with giveaway
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
Runaway Hearts: Seduced by Danger
Elsa Jacobs
Publication date: November 1st 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense
Have you ever wished to run away from your life?
Start anew and leave everything bad behind…
Marianne, a young woman hungry for a fresh start, can’t wait for her beach house getaway. But her plans take an unexpected turn when she picks up a mysterious hitchhiker on the way.
The irresistible stranger is the sole heir of a Japanese *organization*, and despite Marianne’s own anxiety struggles, she can’t say no to someone in need. As they travel together, swapping past traumas and dreams, love sparks. To heal her troubled mind, she must embrace her true desires, no matter how twisted they seem.
But as love deepens, an enemy from the man’s past threatens to pull them apart. In the midst of looming danger, Marianne must choose between sticking to her anxious ways or diving into the unknown for true love.
Get ready for a wild ride where each page brings new revelations and perils, leading to a destination unlike any other.
Runaway Hearts is a slow burn, steamy, contemporary romantic suspense with morally questionable characters. HEA.
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EXCERPT:
As I return to my car, a painful golden gaze greets me. The second I pull out of the alley, tires screech in the distance, a silver SUV closing in on us at great speed.
Stranger Danger turns his head when he sees my wide eyes. “Drive!” he yells with desperation.
And just like that, I’m thrown into a heart-pumping car-chase scene.
My hands grip the steering wheel with an iron resolve.
The engine roars as I speed through the city streets, determined not to be caught by my pursuers.
I’m not on the menu tonight!
My mind races, searching for an escape route. The unfamiliar streets of the city blur past me as I navigate through the labyrinth of alleys and side roads.
“Wow…” the wounded stranger says in the back.
I burst into a weird cackle. “Glad you’re enjoying the ride! Buckle up, it might be a rocky road.” Mm. Ice cream.
“Just try not to kill us both,” he replies, amusement and genuine concern in his voice.
Each turn is calculated, each maneuver executed with precision. I can’t afford a single mistake. It’s easier than the go-karts!
And I love it.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I catch a glimpse of the pursuer’s SUV closing in. Their dark, tinted windows hide their identities, but their malevolent presence creeps like a shadow up my spine. A sentiment I can’t recognize fuels my every move, pushing me to the limits of speed and agility.
“Who’re they? Why’re they chasing you?” I shout, teeth clenched as I drift a tight turn.
“Not now! Just fucking drive!” he snaps, tension radiating from him like heat.
The answer should scare me, but instead, it ignites something within. A reckless defiance maybe. I punch the gas harder. The SUV fades in the distance.
Where’s the police now?
As I navigate through the streets, the city becomes a haze. The thrill of the chase is intoxicating, but the danger is very real.
“Just one more crazy move and I’ll lose them,” I say, pulse thudding hard in my throat as adrenaline spikes through my system.
I need to shake them off for good. Ahead lies a narrow alleyway, barely wide enough to fit my car. Shit. My fingers grip the wheel tighter. The alley is empty. On an impulse, I slam the gas, my heart drumming as I squeeze through the tight space. The pursuers hesitate, thrown off by the daring move. I bet their SUV is too large to come in here.
I cackle, my breath hitching with the rush, as I put distance between us and the furious men. The sharp sting of sweat trails down my spine, but relief crashes through me.
“Ha! Suck on that, you oversized tin cans!” I yell, voice ragged, throat dry from the wild tension that’s been gripping me.
It’s been ages since I’ve felt truly alive. I rush with abandon, the music blasting. Nothing can touch me at this moment of pure euphoria.
As the sky turns shades of pink and orange, I finally reach the outskirts. The energy from the chase has left me breathless yet exhilarated. With every turn, the weight of my life lifted off my shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of freedom. I bite back the “whoop!” threatening to escape my mouth.
I didn’t even know I could drive like that. I slide the sun visor’s mirror to look at myself and burst out laughing. My cheeks are a deep pink, my eyes have an electric gleam, and my lips are stretched into the most wicked smile I’ve ever seen on myself.
“That was wild,” I whisper to myself.
Stranger Danger shakes his head with amusement and worry. “You drive like a maniac.”
“Maniac but living!” I reply, a wild grin on my face.
But the adrenaline surge recedes, leaving my heart rate back to normal and my heart empty. A quick look to the rearview mirror shows me an empty road.
Phew.
Stranger Danger has changed his clothing, but he remains lying across the back seat. I didn’t even see him change his underwear, and that’s a disappointment. A car chase will do that to you.
Author Bio:
I’m Elsa Jacobs, an indie author of contemporary romance and romantic suspense/thriller. I write unique love stories with a substantial amount of twists, turns, and spices.
Let me tell you how it all started. A few years back, I was battling brutal insomnia that just wouldn’t quit. Nights were a blur of characters and plots swirling around in my head, refusing to let me catch some shut-eye. It was maddening. Writing became my escape hatch—I had to get these stories out of my head.
In less than a year, I wrote four drafts, all because I needed an outlet for the chaos that was keeping me up at night. Publishing wasn’t even on my radar; I just needed some peace of mind. But then, something unexpected happened. I sent a chapter to an editor, not really expecting much to come of it.
But instead of a brush-off, I found myself teaming up with that editor to bring my first novel to life.
It was a game-changer. That’s when I decided to take the plunge and share the rest of my drafts, bit by bit, with the world.
My stories might have been born out of sleepless nights, but they’ve become my sanctuary, and I hope they become yours too.
Cheers,
Elsa.
GIVEAWAY!
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Feeding My Addiction….
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
Skipped last week’s new additions post with nothing to share and still don’t have too many new titles. My ever towering TBR is of course thankful to not be piled onto too terribly much but I’ll probably make up for it soon. Until then here’s three new titles to share this week!
As always clicking the covers will take you to the book on Amazon!**
New additions from Netgalley Oct 13th – Nov 3rd
A sexy, dark romantic thriller—with a shocking twist—by the author of Everything We Never Said.
When eighteen-year-old River Santos’s house burned down, she lost everything. Her clothes. Her guitar. Her songbook.
Most importantly, she lost her father.
But when someone anonymously donates two million dollars to her GoFundMe, it’s like she’s won the worst sort of lottery. She’s a millionaire, but at what cost?
With every person who comes into the diner where she works, she wonders, “Was it you?” The only person she’s sure didn’t donate the money is her extremely hot—and extremely standoffish—coworker, Logan Evans. Ever since he started at the diner, he’s acted like he hates her. Which is why she’s shocked when he helps her save face in front of her ex…
Their attraction can’t be denied, but when River discovers a long-hidden family secret, she suddenly finds herself questioning everyone in her life. Her dad, who wasn’t as perfect as he seemed. Her chaotic mother, who left without so much as a goodbye at the beginning of her senior year. The anonymous donor, whose intentions may not have been altruistic after all. And most especially Logan, who has dark secrets of his own.
After the fire, River thought she had hit rock bottom. But as it turns out, there’s always more to lose…
Bestselling Rebel of the Sands author Alwyn Hamilton is back with a glittering fantasy thriller about a glamorous media darling, a surprise heiress, and the magical competition of a lifetime.
At sixteen, Honora “Nora” Holtzfall is the daughter of the most powerful heiress in all of Walstad. Her family controls all the money—and all the magic—in the entire country. But despite being the center of attention, Nora has always felt like an outsider. When her mother is found dead in an alley, the family throne and fortune are suddenly up for grabs, and Nora will be pitted against her cousins in the Veritaz, the ultimate magical competition for power that determines the one family heir.
But there’s a surprise contestant this time: Lotte, the illegitimate daughter of Nora’s aunt. When Lotte’s absent mother retrieves her from the rural convent she’d abandoned her to, Lotte goes from being an orphan to surrounded by family. Unfortunately, most of them want her dead.
And soon, Nora discovers that her mother’s death wasn’t random—it was murder. And the only person she can trust to uncover the truth of what happened is a rakish young reporter who despises everything Nora and her family stand for.
While the dangers of the Veritaz competition threaten each of the Holtzfall girls, and the stark class differences turns political outrage to terrifing violence—the new cousins must fight to stay alive, no matter what.
Incredible tests, impossible choices, and deadly odds await both girls. But there can only be one winner.
When a blaze takes both a neighbor’s home and his life, Emily Dickinson and her maid Willa have a burning desire to crack the case in this new historical mystery from Agatha Award–winning author Amanda Flower.
Amherst, 1857. The Dickinson family braves one of the worst winters in New England’s history. Trains are snowbound and boats are frozen in the harbor. Emily Dickinson and her maid, Willa Noble, have never witnessed anything like it. As Amherst families attempt to keep their homes warm, fears of fire abound.
These worries prove not to be unfounded as a blaze breaks out just down the street from the Dickinson in Kelley Square, the Irish community in Amherst, and a young couple is killed, leaving behind their young child. Their deaths appear to be a tragic accident, but Emily finds herself harboring suspicions there may be more to the fire than meets the eye. Emily and Willa must withstand the frigid temperatures and discover a killer lurking among the deadly frost.
If You Lie: A Thriller by Caleb Stephens blitz with giveaway
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
If You Lie: A Thriller
Caleb Stephens
Publication date: November 1st 2024
Genres: Adult, Thriller
A buried past. A new-age cult. A floating prison with no way off.
Seven years ago, Olivia woke up in the trunk of a stranger’s car—and barely escaped with her life. She’s been looking over her shoulder ever since.
Now, Olivia is a true-crime podcaster on a mission to help other women avoid her fate. But years spent covering violence and crime have left her burned out. So when Olivia’s estranged sister Quinn invites her to reconnect on an exclusive cruise, she jumps at the chance for a break…only this trip won’t be the relaxing vacation she’s hoping for.
The ship is elegant, the meals are divine, and the people are friendly—maybe too friendly. But Quinn isn’t the sister Olivia remembers. And strange things are starting to happen that echo Olivia’s past in unsettling ways.
When someone on the ship goes missing, Olivia realizes she’s playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Only this time, she might not survive.
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EXCERPT:
Sounds came.
The steady ping of rain drumming against steel.
The muted whoosh of wind. The high whine of rubber kissing asphalt.
I was moving.
Why am I moving?
Air clawed up my throat and slid back down again—slowly, painfully—my lungs pulling harder than my esophagus would allow, my chest rising and falling in uneven shifts. I couldn’t breathe.
I should be able to—
My eyelids snapped open to darkness. Pure black. I tried to scream and couldn’t. My voice was gone, lost in my burning throat. Another sound came instead—this one closer, directly overhead.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
I raised my hands and brushed a loose rod, then pushed past it and felt cool metal press against my palm. I followed it lower, the metal curving behind my head until it terminated in a rubber seal.
A car, I thought. I’m in a trunk.
Oh, God …
Oh, fuck.
It’s why my knees were jammed in a fetal position, why a rough pad of carpet burned against my cheek and scratched my neck. A shot of cold panic swam down my spine. Time stuttered, and I wheezed for oxygen. It felt like I was breathing through a straw. I was going to pass out if I didn’t get it together and fast.
Focus, Olivia. Stay calm.
And then: He thinks I’m dead.
It’s why my hands weren’t bound, why my mouth wasn’t gagged. It’s why my ankles weren’t slung in an interstate of knots. The man who’d done this to me thought I was dead. I could still feel his fingers squeezing, digging into my neck, could still hear his voice burning hot in my ear.
Fucking die, already!
Those words pouring over me in a shower of sour breath.
Clack. C-Clack. Clack.
Think, Olivia! You have to think!
I slowed my breathing and forced my mind to calm. There had to be a way to open the trunk or signal another car. A wire to rip free from the brake lights or a latch to pop. Didn’t all the newer cars have those specifically for situations like this? For women who, like me, simply disappeared?
And I would disappear if I didn’t find a way to get out.
My heart sloshed in my chest, and I rolled to my right, toward the sidewall of the trunk, and extended an arm. My fingers brushed over objects I recognized. Jumper cables, and a can of gas. Coiled rope and boxes. A hard plastic case. Duct tape. Nothing else.
Jesus, no latch.
I tried the other side, muttering a prayer as my hands crawled through a graveyard of clinking bottles, my fingers scraping over the dry brush of cardboard and through the crinkle of plastic sacks. Dust tickled the back of my nose, and I nearly unleashed a sneeze before I bit it off. Don’t! He’ll hear you. Then I tried again, moving slower this time, feeling for what had to be there.
And it was—nestled a few inches above the floor of the trunk.
A trunk release. A lever to pull.
Reality wobbled. My heart fluttered and crashed.
Work, I thought. Please, God, work.
I pulled.
There came a click, and the world exploded into a fireball of light. A gray sky moved above me, swollen with thunderheads, trees sweeping past on either side. Headlights coasted behind the car in a sea of rushing metal. Cold rain lashed against my neck. I forced myself upright, and the brakes slammed and sent me hurtling backward as the car screeched to a stop.
Move! Move! Move!
I scrambled from the trunk.
One foot connected with the ground. The other slipped. I crashed to the road, and the sound of rain filled my ears along with the heavy thunk of a door opening. Two boots hit asphalt.
His boots.
Air scabbed over my lips. The world swam.
Go! I pushed myself upright—and I ran. Across the white line on the shoulder of the road and into traffic with brakes shrieking all around me. Horns tearing past. Rain pelting my face. Wind hissing in my ears. Behind me came a full-throat roar.
“Stop, you fucking bitch!”
My lungs burned for air, everything smearing to a blur.
“I said, stop!” Louder this time. Closer.
But I didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. I kept running—pushing through the fire in my chest, ignoring the pain in my throat—until I stumbled off the road and tumbled down a grass-slicked descent.
Rolling now. Everything spinning. Gasping for air.
I splashed into a pool of muddy water and came up coughing, wiping my eyes to a sight that filled me with terror. The man stood above me on the hill, looking down with one hand balled into a fist and the other holding a knife.
You’re dead, I thought. He’s going to kill you.
A cloud of blue and red light rose behind him followed by a voice. “Remain where you are! Drop the knife!”
But the man didn’t. He just stared down at me with his breath turning to mist.
And took a step. Took another.
Then the gunshots rang out.
Author Bio:
Caleb Stephens is an award-winning author writing from Denver, Colorado. His novels include the thrillers If You Lie, The Girls in the Cabin, and Feeders, as well as the darkly humorous urban fantasy novel, Soul Couriers, which is forthcoming in 2025. His fiction collection If Only a Heart and Other Tales of Terror includes the short story “The Wallpaper Man,” which was adapted to film by Falconer Film & Media in 2022. He’s hard at work writing his next thriller.
GIVEAWAY!
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Here Lyeth by Johanna Frank blitz with giveaway
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
Here Lyeth
Johanna Frank
(A Lifeline Fantasy Novel)
Publication date: November 1st 2024
Genres: Fantasy, Supernatural
A small-scale supernatural fantasy on big, real-life values. A story of rewiring unworthiness and searching for a place to belong. Pre-order your copy today for an extraordinary, heartwarming read that is sure to unearth you. Release date, November 1, 2024.
Answers are buried beneath a grave marker. Only it happens to be her own.
Something was missing. It was easy for Lexxie to bury that niggling sense, she had all the love and protection a young woman needed. But when the man she thought to be her father spilled a fever-pitched confession—that she’d been taken from her real family as an infant—her content and isolated life ended.
STIRRING… EXTRAORDINARY… UPLIFTING…
Angry and heartbroken, Lexxie left the people she loved on a mere hint—her true father lived in Vereiteln Dorf, two villages over. Once there, she’s drawn to an unconsecrated graveyard. Since answers don’t come easy from the locals, she’s forced to make many assumptions and patch puzzling pieces together. But the more she does, the more her presence in this superstitious village becomes a threat, and the more she gives credence to a voice coming from a pit of ashes. The perils of a noose amid a 1688 witch hunt lay heavy on her shoulders.
Years earlier, in the same village, young Meginhardt succumbs to a vicious attack. Ethereal beings take him on a time-traveling journey to shake away the lad’s deeply rooted struggles of unworthiness.
But when Meginhardt learns that some woman named Lexxie is the chosen one to carry forward his father’s line of descendants, he throws away all he’s been shown. Fits of jealousy ensue—a dream shattered. It should have been him. He becomes frantic to ensure the demise of this undeserving woman. In apparitional form, he delivers Lexxie a message, face to face.
Her future lyeth in his words.
-The standalone background story to the Prologue in The Gatekeeper’s Descendants
-Book length approximately 90,000 words
-Recommended for Young Adults (14+) and up
-An edifying story involving feelings of unworthiness and a need to belong
-A small-scale fantasy representing the outskirts of heaven
More from the author:
The Gatekeeper’s Descendants, a standalone family drama involving bullying and grief
Jophiel’s Secret, a standalone adventure involving unforgiveness and grief
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EXCERPT:
Anger tucked aside, she scurried up without bothering to read the inscriptions on the risers. Needing the strength of both arms, she pulled the door open wide. The haunting drawn-out creak confirmed a renewal of focus on her single priority. Find my lineage, my true father. Then new life is certain to follow.
An entrance hall revealed itself, though dark with looming shadows. Unable to avoid inhaling the displeasing odor, a mixture of lingering day-old incense and strong lye soap, her throat did a gaggle. Nothing like the sweet-pine pews inside her white-stucco church.
Attempting to step quiet-like, she still clicked her shoes against the marble floor, her feet inside all that lavish commenced to swell and pine for attention. Huh, stomping through town in modish spikes, ’tis not wise.
A figure across the room sat up on its knees and twisted a neck to inspect the visitor. Even in the darkness, the woman appeared maturely aged.
Unfolding with a painful slowness, the woman stood and rubbed her hands into her apron. With such a crippling figure, she couldn’t have had an easy go at life. Her head, a weighty slump, her neck, cranked to one side. Had she eaten in a while? So thin. And dressed in all black. Scrubbing a floor that already shone—preparing for a wedding or cleaning after the ceremony of a disposed corpse perhaps?
“State yer business,” the woman gnarled.
The plucky tone surprised. “Guten morgen, I’m, ah, here to examine the registers for births and deaths—if I may.” Politeness best protect her from being turned away. Harmon always said one achieved more with kindness than with harshness.
“Yer a stranger.” The woman’s shaking middle finger accused.
Huh. This woman the epitome of the latter.
“Madam, ’tis that I am. Please be, I intend no harm. I assure you. Just seeking. I shan’t be long.” Should be easy to check births around the time of her own, though this woman need not know that specific detail.
“Seeking? Huh, seeking ye what?”
Was it so wrong to seek? Lexxie sucked in a full breath. Her throat irritated by resins, she stifled a cough. But nay, she hadn’t come all this way to permit some grumpy old spinster to blockade her. Forget the kindness of honey, Harmon. Time for some harsh vinegar.
“Are ye cloaking history? Is that what you are saying, madam?”
The old woman shot an indication to a wooden door hidden beside the nave.
Lexxie jockeyed between pews in the direction the bony finger specified, stifling the clicks of her shoes as much as possible.
Whew. She knocked.
“We don’t lock history.” The old woman’s crusty voice echoed, having the last word.
This door, not nearly the heft nor clangor as the one fronting the church, Lexxie nudged and invited herself in. Larger than one might expect, the narrow room hosted wooden shelving loaded with books up to the ceiling sidelong. A movable ladder rested against the end wall, and an unlit kerosene lamp awaited on the single high table.
Help would be nice, some guidance as to the order of records. Lexxie glanced back where the scowling woman gave her a second glance. Then again, Lexxie could figure it out herself. After lighting the lamp, she shut the door for privacy.
A musty flavor and layers of dust from decades past awoke and scurried about. No window to allow a breeze of any sort. Once her sneezes settled, she walked the length of the room, thankful now for those daylong lessons in reading and writing with Grossmutter. ’Twas the age of enlightenment, Grossmutter would say. She kept at least one lesson ahead of Lexxie, so as to in turn share the blessing.
A thin cotton curtain covered one section of shelving beside a nailed sign—Prohibited Books. She edged closer to shelving with books of various sizes, difficult to distinguish due to caging, each row with its own locked latch. Huh, don’t lock history, say you?
She wandered to a series of consistent volumes laying heavy on their own, their leathery pasteboard covers bound with cord and red edging their pages. Numbers stitched atop.
Years, yes! Those ones were organized by years. They had to be the records she sought.
All she possessed now was her birth year. Harmon wouldn’t have lied about her age, would he?
A shiver ran through her veins. There had to be over seventy books, each covering a year, each varying in thickness.
Here it be: 1671. Energizing another dust cloud with a loud exhale, she heaved the book off the shelf and clutched it tight to her bosom. Her heartbeat thumped against the pasteboard cover. The registry for the year she was born must speak to her, reveal information she was desperate for. Vital to get on with any way of future.
She released her gripping hug, placed the heavy book on the table, and wiped dry her sweaty palms down the skirt of her new frock.
Overwhelm assaulted her. Harmon, the loving father she adored all those years. Grossmutter, the wise, gentle, and kind grandmother, her only female influencer. Was it true they be not her family? Would opening this book mean turning her back on them?
’Course, she’d already done so, hadn’t she?
If only they were cruel or unloving. Made her work like a slave. Cussed and cursed her day in and day out. This then would be so much easier. Her fingers twitched to shove the book back onto its shelf. Her legs urged her to take flight, run all the way back to Avondale, and bury this outlandish nonsense.
But nonsense, it weren’t.
The pounding in her chest begged to keep going, threatening to explode if she stopped now. She almost missed the rubbing of hinges, the only door to this library tomb opening, a male figure entering, the unwelcoming floor-polishing ogre poking her head around him to catch a glimpse.
“Searching, are we?” The man’s monotoned query struck an unexplainable chord.
Author Bio:
Not proud to admit, I’ve struggled with authority and routine since I can remember. A feisty red-headed child, I’ve barrelled my fist through windowpanes, ran away numerous times (to a bowling alley of all places), and even once, used a water pistol on my high school science teacher (right in his face, it was a dare). I actually managed to attain a master’s degree in business (though, really didn’t use it much). Instead, I preferred weekday evening classes in
theology and weekend scribbling sessions of fantasy fiction. Losing a beloved teenage daughter to cancer snapped me to attention, then another (the second, a dear step-daughter) really did me in. Besides relishing the dearness of my husband and our other three children and their families, I write fantasy fiction with meaning. My mantra (which I made up of course) …because even a little heavenly imagination can loosen the chains of life. – Johanna Frank
“Frank, one of Canada’s emerging authors in spiritual fantasy, walks a fine line between general fantasy and faith-based fiction. Her work aims to innovate and transcend traditional boundaries, catering to a hungry market of curious readers who don’t want to be preached to but are open to exploring spiritual themes through fantasy.” – Sheri Hoyte, Reader Views
GIVEAWAY!
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