Friday, 12 July 2019

Temporary Bride by Arabella Sheen - EXCERPT 5


Temporary Bride
  
Arabella Sheen



Max Jordan is one of America’s most powerful, leading corporate lawyers. He is also the major stockholder and head of the billion-dollar corporation - Jordan Diamond Empire.
Max must marry soon to keep the business safe and the company secure from a takeover.
Returning to England in search of the only woman he knows and trusts to help him in his moment of need - he tracks Amy down and asks her to marry him.


Amy Denver wants nothing to do with Max Jordan…and she certainly wants nothing to do with his marriage proposal. Five painful years have passed since Max disappeared from her life and a lot has happened to her in between. Amy has a secret she’d rather he didn’t discover…her secret is Jake…their son. Once again Amy finds herself surrendering to Max and his demands as he whisks her and Jake off to Waterfront, his private, secluded home in the Hamptons.

Excerpt  5 continued...

The whole room was waiting to gauge James’s reaction to Max’s request. James simply shrugged his shoulders offering no objections.
“If it’s alright with Amy, it’s alright with me,” he replied.
Amy panicked.
“I’m sure I can find someone from the typing pool to assist Mr Jordan,” she offered hurriedly. “And if there are any problems he can…”
“No, it’s alright. Max can have you,” said James Martin laying down the law.
Amy knew there would be no arguing with James. A decision had been made.
“Max will have a heavy workload and he’ll need all the help he can get. You’re the best we’ve got Amy.” James had turned to look at her.
Max can have you.
She didn’t like the sound of that. How dare they pass her about as if she was a slave to be bartered with?
She was totally opposed to working with Max but that didn’t seem to matter to anyone. It seemed Max was being handed what he wanted on a plate…and he wanted Amy.
Unwillingly and reluctantly Amy had to agree that logically the decision was the right one.
If they hoped to achieve the impossible and win the Diablo case, Max would need all the help he could get and she was the most suitable assistant for the job.
When the meeting was over and everyone was leaving, Amy made a quick dash and escaped to her own office.
She was on the point of collapse and could scarcely stand.
All she wanted to do was close her office door and shut out the world. However, when she turned around to do just that, she found Max had followed her from the conference room and was now standing behind. He towered over her and she almost buckled at the knees.
Now he had her cornered in her office. For the first time in five years, she was once again alone with Max Jordan.
“Not now Max, please,” she said, almost begging.
“Amy, at some point we have to talk,” he told her bluntly. “I’ll leave you to choose the time and the place if you like. If you want somewhere that’s private, that’s fine. But we need to talk. We have unfinished business.”
He wasn’t asking her. He was telling her. And there was no question he would get what he wanted. Max had walked back into her life and he wasn’t being quite about it.
“We’ve nothing to talk about Max. Either privately or in public,” she said sternly.
She was determined to avoid being alone with him at all costs.
“I’ll work with you during office hours,” she told him. “But only because I have to. If you want to talk to me about anything other than what we’re working on, I’m not interested. I’m not going to listen to you and I don’t want to know.”
Max simple ignored what she’d just said.
“I have a full day ahead of me with James and I’m not sure when we’ll be finished.” He looked quickly at his watch. “We ought to get through the case notes by about five o’clock. I’ll look in here after we’ve finished and we can . . .”
“I won’t be here,” she told him in no uncertain terms. “And I’m not waiting.”
 “You never did wait. Did you? That was one of our problems.” He shook his head in frustration and took a deep breath. “If you’re not here how do I get hold of you?”
“You don’t...I’ll call you.”
She smiled a tight smile as if her face would crack.
He got the message. He knew she wouldn’t be calling him. She didn’t have his mobile number and he realised she wouldn’t make an effort to get in contact.
“Although you might think it, I wasn’t born yesterday. Give me your number and I’ll phone you,” he demanded.
She wasn’t giving him her number at any costs. She didn’t want anything to do with him and there was absolutely no way she going to become involved with him for a second time.
As far as she was concerned the past was over and done with. She had moved on and she had started a new life.
“Amy! What’s your number?” he barked out threateningly between clenched teeth. “Tell me . . .”
She was brought back to reality with a jerk.
Quickly she found a scrap of paper and scribbled her number on it before unwillingly handing it over. She felt like she’d just signed her life away.
“I’ll be here at five. Wait for me,” and then he was gone.
With her head in a spin from the whirlwind of events that morning, Amy pressed a button on her desk putting the switchboard on hold and left her office.
Passing reception she entered the nearby stationary store cupboard where the surplus office equipment was kept and, slamming the door shut behind her, she burst into tears sobbing inconsolably.
Everyone, even the most junior members of staff, knew you never went into the stationary store cupboard if the door was shut.
It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later, when Cathy came to grab a quick cup of coffee and a gossip with Amy about the meeting, that it was discovered she was still nowhere to be seen. She hadn’t returned to her office.
Cathy went in search of her friend and was pointed in the direction of the store cupboard by one of the reception staff.
Tapping on the door and receiving no reply Cathy cautiously turned the handle and found Amy with a very damp handkerchief mopping her eyes and vigorously blowing her red nose.
Amy looked up and saw her friend.
“Oh Cathy…” she cried, before once again collapsing into a snivelling wreck. “I never cry…never…not even when Jake had meningitis and we couldn’t bring his temperature down. And the time I sprained my ankle and I couldn’t walk for a week. I never cry.”
“I know…I know,” said Cathy soothingly. “But sometimes we need to cry.”
“But you don’t know. You can’t know what’s happened,” Amy sniffed loudly.  
“No, I don’t. But whatever it is, it will be alright. Nothing can be that bad. Except if something’s happened to Jake. Nothing’s happened to him…has it?” Cathy asked.
All of a sudden Amy turned as white as the stack of A4 sheets of paper piled in front of her on the storeroom shelves.
“Jake? No, it’s not Jake At least…he’s supposed to be in day school. No, it Jake’s father. He’s found us. Max is here,” she cried.
“Max? Max Jordan?” Cathy said reeling from the shock.
“Cathy, you’ve set alarm bells ringing. I’ve got to call the school and see if Jake’s alright. I have to see if he’s still there. He might have been taken. I wouldn’t put it past Max to . . .”
But Cathy didn’t hear the remainder of what Amy was saying. Amy had already left the store cupboard and was running to her office where she frantically dialled the number of Jake’s school. Her hands were shaking.
The school reassured her Jake was still in class and he wouldn’t be leaving until she came to collect him.
Putting down the phone Amy sank into her office chair and put her head in her hands.
“Drink,” Cathy said as she put a steaming cup of tea on the desk in front of Amy.
Amy picked up the cup and did as she was told. She took a few sips of the hot, sweet, steamy liquid and made a face.
“You know I don’t take sugar,” Amy said grimacing.
“It will do you good and whilst you are drinking it you can tell me what’s going on,” Cathy said firmly.
Then the two friends sat and talked together for a while.
“So you see Max came, he saw, and he conquered…and then he deserted. Well not literally. It’s just that other things probably got in his way,” Amy explained. She had no idea why she was making excuses for the man.
When Cathy heard the story Amy had just told, she didn’t see, or couldn’t see and wouldn’t see, how anyone would willingly leave beautiful, gentle Amy.
Only a fool would have walked away when Amy had given him her heart.


Disclaimer, Copyrights and Publishing
Any names or characters have no existence outside the imagination of the
 author or are used fictitiously and actual events are purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, copied,
stored in a retrieval system known or hereinafter invented, without
 written permission of the publisher.

Copyright © 2013 by – Arabella Sheen
Published by priceplacebooks 
All rights reserved.
ISBN 978-0-9575698-0-5

Wednesday, 10 July 2019

Welcome to Contemporary Author - Celia Anderson


I’m delighted to welcome Celia Anderson to my blog.


Hello Celia. It was lovely to connect with you through the Romantic Novelists’ Association. I find the RNA to be a wonderful place in which to meet fellow authors and affiliates, all of whom are eager to share exciting news about books.
When asked what your genre was, you said: 59 Memory Lane is classed as contemporary fiction, but has also been described as ‘Up-Lit’. This new ‘Up-Lit’ genre (new to me at least) is something I’m going to have to research.
But before we discover more about your latest release, 59 Memory Lane, here are a few questions which will hopefully give your readers an insight into some of the things that matter to you.


Arabella: How did you manage to get your novel published and what did you learn from the experience?
Celia: After reading (and loving) The Keeper of Lost Things’ by Ruth Hogan, I decided to take my courage in both hands and approach her agent, Laura Macdougall, who is now with United Agents. Laura wasn’t altogether bowled over by the book I sent her but was encouraging about my next idea, so I put all my energies into finishing what was to become 59 Memory Lane before she changed her mind!
When she read the final version and offered to represent me, I couldn’t believe my luck. We worked on this novel together until Laura was ready to submit it, and that was when I discovered the art of patience - my biggest learning curve so far. Constantly checking my emails to see if Laura had had any replies from publishers, and then the exciting, nerve wracking journey to eventual publication with Harper Fiction after well over a year has taught me that good things are definitely worth waiting for.

Arabella: If you could choose, which would it be: A walk in the woods, a walk along a beach front to dip your toes in the sea, or a day shopping for clothes?
Celia: Definitely the sea. Living in the centre of the UK means I don’t get to paddle nearly often enough. 59 Memory Lane is set on the Cornish coast, so I escape there in my head as often as possible! My next novel involves maps and adventures, so the seaside figures again, and Cornwall was high on my list of places to include. Moving much further north, the atmospheric island of Lindisfarne features in it too.  I love the wide expanses of sand in Northumberland, especially around Bamburgh. Perfect for a plotting walk.

Arabella: Who or what inspired you to write your latest release, 59 Memory Lane?
Celia: This is a story involving families, friendships, memories and intrigue, and was inspired by a huge cache of letters discovered by my cousin Jill when her father died. He lived in Cornwall for all of his married life, and the Midlands family’s faithful correspondence with him dates back to 1945. Reading these words from the past has brought my mum and her siblings alive again for me. An emotional experience that also provided the jumping off ground for May and all her friends to appear.


Arabella: Where do you read? Sofa or bed or ____?
Celia: Mostly in bed, although I do love to read on the train. Both daughters live in Brighton so I get a good four hours of reading in when I visit them, and since I signed with my agent and also got more involved with the Romantic Novelists’ Association, I travel to London on a regular basis – more kindle catch-up time.

Arabella: Some authors write at first light, others need a mug of coffee or a glass of wine before putting pen to paper. When writing, are there any “essentials” you need to help the words flow?
Celia: It’s a good job you can’t see me writing this, because I’m in my dressing gown and not looking my sparkling best. Five o’clock in the morning is my most productive writing time, and I usually start with a big mug of chai or peppermint tea. Then after breakfast I keep going for a while, if time permits. The early evening stint is massively helped by wine…


Arabella: You’re halfway through the work-in-progress, you’re about to kill off the hero and there is going to be no happy-ever-after. In other words, you’re stuck! If you had to contact an “author/publisher/editor friend” for guidance, who would it be?
Celia: I would get in touch with Laura and also with Charlotte Ledger, who’s my brilliant publisher at Harper Collins. Both are fantastic at replying quickly to emails and give excellent, forthright advice. I recently had lunch sitting in the sunshine at a pavement cafe with Charlotte as we dissected my next book, which had hit a very sticky patch. Laura had already given her advice, so we pooled all our ideas and then celebrated with some amazing Italian ice cream.
I’m very lucky to have a great set of writing buddies, most of whom revel in the collective name of The Romaniacs. Sue, Laura, Lucie, Debbie, Jan, Catherine and Vanessa (plus Mandy James and Christine Macpherson, my other lovely gurus) are just wonderful. Sometimes the answer to a problem is just staring you in the face, but it takes another writer to state the obvious!

Arabella: The T.V. is on and you’re in control of the remote. Which is it to be: A quiz programme…An afternoon of sport…A family soap…A romantic film you always wanted to see but missed when it was shown at the cinema?
Celia: I don’t watch much live TV, it’s usually old box sets like Larkrise to Candleford, Sherlock or Jeeves, but if the TV is ever on in the day, I can’t resist property programmes. The Romaniacs were lucky enough to meet Kirsty Allsopp after Catherine won an afternoon tea competition. Cake and Kirsty – two of our favourite things. And she also had prosecco!

Arabella: Do you have any great writing, publishing, or marketing tips you’d like to share to “want-to-be” authors starting out on their writing journey?
Celia: My biggest tip, apart from everyone’s favourite of ‘just keep going and don’t mind the rejections’ is to get more involved in the world of authors. I joined the RNA in 2011 and have met some of the most fabulous people ever. I’m now on the committee, and organise the judging for the Romantic Novel of the Year Award which involves meeting lots of writers at different stages of their careers. The encouragement they give to each other is superb. Also, online forums are good for venting about the inevitable one star reviews and getting through those waiting hours. Writing can be a lonely business and there are lots of roles within the RNA that are crying out for enthusiastic volunteers!

Thank you so much for this opportunity to be interviewed on your blog, Arabella.
Celia x


Celia - Thank you for being such an amazing guest. You gave some marvellous answers which I’m sure your readers and followers will have devoured with enjoyment.
And I must say...I’m in awe of your time management skills. Not only do you start writing at 5am, but you also mentioned you have been busy helping to organise this year’s RNA - Romantic Novel Awards and all the entries that have been flooding in!
A big thank you . . . to you and all the RNA members who willing devoted their time and energy to such happenings. It takes a certain sort of someone to do this! And I'm full of admiration for your stamina. I’d be exhausted!

Best wishes and lots of happy-ever-after writing…
Arabella Sheen


About Celia Anderson

Celia Anderson lives slap bang in the middle of the Midlands and dreams of owning a cottage by the sea, or at the very least on a canal or river. She makes do with living next door to a pond full of ducks but often manages to sneak more impressive watery places into her writing. Celia loves walking, reading, having large bubbly baths, eating and drinking wine. Over the years, she has found that all of these activities bar the first may be done simultaneously, although this can be messy. Previously a teacher and assistant head, she now writes full time and keeps her feet on the ground by running children's clubs that mainly involve drama and cake.

Social Media Links:

Twitter - @CeliaAnderson1 https://twitter.com/CeliaAnderson1
Facebook –Celia Anderson Author Page https://www.facebook.com/CeliaAndersonAuthor/


Blurb - 59 Memory Lane

May Rosevere has reached the grand old age of one-hundred-and-ten, thanks to several slices of toast with butter every morning, a glass (or two) of port, and the wonders of the Cornish sea air – or so she tells everyone.
But there’s much more to May than her remarkable age. She has a secret. One that no one has ever discovered …
59 Memory Lane is published in both paperback and audio formats on June 27th  2019. The eBook came out on April 1st.

Buy Link



Friday, 5 July 2019

Temporary Bride by Arabella Sheen - EXCERPT 4


Temporary Bride
  
Arabella Sheen



Max Jordan is one of America’s most powerful, leading corporate lawyers. He is also the major stockholder and head of the billion-dollar corporation - Jordan Diamond Empire.
Max must marry soon to keep the business safe and the company secure from a takeover.
Returning to England in search of the only woman he knows and trusts to help him in his moment of need - he tracks Amy down and asks her to marry him.

Amy Denver wants nothing to do with Max Jordan…and she certainly wants nothing to do with his marriage proposal. Five painful years have passed since Max disappeared from her life and a lot has happened to her in between. Amy has a secret she’d rather he didn’t discover…her secret is Jake…their son. Once again Amy finds herself surrendering to Max and his demands as he whisks her and Jake off to Waterfront, his private, secluded home in the Hamptons.


Excerpt  4 continued...

“You two know each other?” James asked. He was somewhat taken aback.
“Amy and I go way back,” Max explained and he raised an eyebrow suggestively.
Amy felt a blush of embarrassment covering her face and it was there for all to see.
Max was still holding her hand and she knew he could feel her body trembling. She was shaking from head to toe, dreading what was about to come.
Max Jordan wasn’t supposed to be here.
He was supposed to be out of her life. He was supposed to be somewhere on the other side of the world…not here in England.
Feeling fenced in, she began to panic. She had to get away from him. She felt she couldn’t stay there a moment longer.
Amy was about to make a run for it but Max gripped and held her tightly against his side. Now that he’d found her, it seemed he wasn’t letting go.
“What? You two know each other? Amy, you dark horse,” James said. “You could have warned us you knew Max.”
“Oh no, I don’t know Max. I mean…I don’t know Mr Jordan,” Amy spluttered, trying to keep her composure.
She was frantically denying the fact she knew Max. Looking around the room she tried to convince everyone she was telling the truth.
“We were only briefly acquainted,” she explained. “And I never really knew him.”
And then she said something unforgivable. “And I don’t need and I don’t want to know him now.”
She heard a sharp intake of air as Max drew in his breath through clenched teeth.
It seemed she had hit a nerve.
She had gone too far and, although she was dismayed at what she had unthinkingly said, she couldn’t and wouldn’t take the words back.
They were true.
She had never really known the true Max and she didn’t want to get to know him again. She had too much to lose. She was aiming to avoid Max at all costs.
“You always did have a reputation of saying what you thought,” Max said smiling.
“Oh, so now I have a reputation. And what sort of reputation would that be Mr Jordan? A ruined reputation?”
The sarcasm was dripping from her tongue and Max made a face as if she had just wounded him deeply.
What right did he have to look at her like that? She was the injured party. Not him.
She desperately wanted to leave and get away but she couldn’t. With the room full of lawyers waiting for her to start the meeting, there was no chance of an immediate escape.
She was forced to stay.
Max was still holding her against his side and discreetly she started tugging away from him until reluctantly he had to release her. As their contact was broken she felt his energy draining from her.
“Ladies and gentlemen please be seated.” Max was taking command of the meeting. “I believe we’re to have a presentation followed by a discussion,” he said. “If everyone’s here…shall we proceed?”
On shaky legs and with some difficulty, Amy went over to the hologram projector and started operating the high-tech equipment.
She gave the opening speech flawlessly and when her presentation of the facts had ended the senior partners took over. Then they started getting down to the nitty-gritty.
When discussions finished it was unanimously decided Max was the best man to represent both sides of the Atlantic. He was the lawyer who was going to present the case to the English and American judicial systems. He was the man for the job.
With everyone anticipating a long, complicated, legal battle that could take months of court appearances and high powered negotiations, concerns were voiced about the amount of travelling Max would have to do. But Max shrugged off their worries telling them travel wasn’t a problem for him.
As Max began closing the meeting he stood up to address the group.
“Well, that seems to be it,” he told them. “I believe we’ve covered the most urgent points on the agenda and I’d like to say thanks for giving me such a warm welcome to Martin and Campbell earlier. I think I now have some insight into how things work here and where to go if I’m in trouble. And as I’m always in trouble, you’ll probably be seeing a lot of me.”
There was a burst of shared laughter from his audience.
“Officially I’m not one of the team but at some point, I shall probably need one of you to help me with my legal work when I’m in England. I’d like someone who knows the ropes and can organise me. Someone who can do the legwork so to speak.”
At the back of the room, someone mumbled something and a chuckle of agreement came from various staff members.
“Amy has great legs.”
Max had heard what was said and Amy saw his lips curve into a grin of agreement.
Didn’t the man miss anything?
Max was waiting expectantly for someone to volunteer and then he said, “Someone has just kindly suggested Amy and, if there are no objections, I’d like Amy to work with me whilst I’m here.”
“Who wouldn’t want Amy?” It was the same voice and everyone laugh again.
Everyone, that is, except Amy.


Disclaimer, Copyrights and Publishing
Any names or characters have no existence outside the imagination of the
 author or are used fictitiously and actual events are purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, copied,
stored in a retrieval system known or hereinafter invented, without
 written permission of the publisher.

Copyright © 2013 by – Arabella Sheen
Published by priceplacebooks 
All rights reserved.
ISBN 978-0-9575698-0-5

Wednesday, 3 July 2019

Welcome to Crime Writer - Wendy Clarke


I’m delighted to welcome Crime Writer Wendy Clarke to my blog


Hello Wendy, I was so pleased when you said you were able to join me on Arabella’s Blog and Chit-Chat this week as I know how busy you must be writing and promoting your books.
But ... before we get to know about your latest release, What She Saw, here are a few questions which will hopefully give your readers an insight into some of the things that matter to you.


Arabella: Are there any organisations, writing, or reader groups, you belong to? And, how do they support or help you in creating such wonderful, inspirational novels?
Wendy: I belong to the Crime Writers’ Association and the Romantic Novelists’ Association. My debut psychological thriller, What She Saw, went through the RNA’s New Writers’ Scheme and the suggestions and encouragement I had from my critique reader gave me the confidence to go forward and find a publisher.

Arabella: Where do you read? Sofa or bed or ____?
Wendy: I read anywhere and everywhere. My favourite place to read is in bed with a cup of tea with the swing chair in the garden coming a close second!

Arabella: In your latest release, What She Saw, who is your favourite character and why? Wendy: I think it has to be Beth, Leona’s teenage daughter. She struggles to find her place in the world and her individuality makes her a target for school bullies. I like her because she is creative and has a sensitivity that makes the reader root for her.


Arabella: When writing a novel, how do you work? Are you a plotter or pantser?
Wendy: That’s an interesting one. If you had asked me this question a few years ago, when I was writing stories for magazines, I would definitely have said a pantser. Now I’ve moved on to novels, I’ve found that having a basic plan helps me stay on track. Also, my publisher asks to see a synopsis of my novels before I write them, so I’ve had to force myself to edge into the planning camp. I have a mind map App on my iPad which I use to brainstorm ideas before linking them to make a story. Then it’s all systems go!

Arabella: Which would you prefer to do: 1) spend a morning vigorously working out at the gym, 2) be pampered from head to toe at the spa and beauty salon, 3) indulge and pile on the pounds with a romantic dinner for two?
Wendy: Absolutely not number one – I’ve never been to a gym in my life and don’t intend to. I get my exercise in other ways: dancing, pilates, badminton and dog walking. A spa day is nice for an occasional treat, but you can’t beat a lovely meal with your husband… so number 3.


Arabella: Which do you prefer to wear: beach shorts and top, a long evening skirt and blouse, pyjamas and slippers?
Wendy: Not the second (unless I’m ballroom dancing), not the third as I don’t wear pjs and don’t possess slippers, so it will have to be beach shorts and a top… unless it’s winter of course. If I could add a fourth choice, it would be jeans and boots.

Arabella: We all have a long list of books we keep meaning to read but never have the time for --- which book is a must read for you this summer?
Wendy: This would have to be ‘The Family Upstairs’ by my favourite suspense writer, Lisa Jewell, which, by coincidence, is coming out the same day as my second psychological thriller, We Were Sisters!

Arabella: What about your future plans? Any books or series in the making?
Wendy: My second psychological thriller, We Were Sisters, will be published in August and I’m about to start my third. Can’t wait!


Thank you for joining me on Arabella’s Blog and Chit-Chat, Wendy. I’m certainly going to have to check out the Mind Map App you mentioned. I’ve never heard of such a thing (I’m not terribly computer/app savvy) and this app sounds fascinating – especially if it helps an author to plan and plot a novel.
Best wishes and happy writing, Arabella Sheen



About Wendy Clarke

Wendy Clarke is a full time writer of women’s fiction. She started writing when the primary school she taught in closed down and after completing two creative writing courses, began writing short fiction for magazines.

Since then, she has sold over two hundred short stories and her work regularly appears in national women’s magazines such as The People’s Friend, Take a Break Fiction Feast and Woman’s Weekly. She has also written serials and a number of non-fiction magazine articles.

Wendy lives with her husband, cat and step-dog in Sussex and when not writing is usually dancing, singing or watching any programme that involves food!

Apart from three collections of her short stories, she has now been contracted by Bookouture for her first two full-length novels.



Blurb: What She Saw

How far would you go to keep your daughter safe?
Everyone knows Leona would do anything for her daughter, Beth: she moved to Church Langdon to send Beth to the best school, built a business to support them and found the perfect little cottage to call home. They hike together, shop together, share their hopes and fears. It’s the relationship every mother dreams of.

But Leona never talks about why they moved to the Lake District.
She’s never told Beth anything about her father.
She says Beth should never speak to strangers. She says Beth doesn’t need friends.
She’s only trying to protect her daughter.

But sometimes the person closest to you is the person you shouldn’t trust.




Blurb: We Were Sisters

I turn to where I left my baby in his pushchair and pull up short. With a racing heart, I look around wildly, fear gripping my stomach. I only looked away for a moment. The pushchair and my baby are gone.

Kelly is taking her twin daughters to their first day of school, ushering them into the classroom, her heart breaking to think they might not need her any more, when she turns around and sees her newborn baby is gone.

As a desperate search ensues, baby Noah is quickly found – parked in front of a different classroom But when Kelly reaches forward to comfort him, she finds something tucked in the side of his blanket. A locket that belonged to her sister Freya. A locket Kelly hasn’t seen since the day Freya died.

And then Kelly’s perfectly-ordered life begins to unravel…


HER THREE CAPTAINS - Arabella Sheen - Excerpt 1

      Her Three Captains Arabella Sheen     The Honorable Olivia Trevillion lifted the long skirts of her embroidered silk evening g...