Showing posts with label contemporary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contemporary. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Love in Bloom featuring Delaney Cameron


EXCERPT and GIVEAWAY
Love at Last
(Finding Love Book 6)
by Delaney Cameron

Love at Last (Finding Love Book 6) by Delaney Cameron

Throughout the month of April, we will be featuring 10 fabulous authors who write clean romance. Today we feature Delaney Cameron with Love at Last, the sixth book in the Finding Love series.
This book blast and giveaway is brought to you by I Am A Reader.


Description
Working on her grandmother’s house gives Rosemary a reason to escape the media attention of a very public broken engagement. In St. Marys, she hopes to rekindle the music that used to flow easily from her mind to paper and rediscover the girl who’s somehow lost her way. Instead she finds someone who challenges her beliefs about love and tests her resolve to guard her heart.
Fresh from a writer’s convention in New York, Jase is excited to return home and start putting into practice all the things he’s learned. He has no idea that his gesture of kindness to a mysterious woman on a plane will turn his life upside down and give him his first tantalizing glimpse of true love. But unlike the fiction he spends his days writing, he can’t simply remove all the obstacles in his path to happiness. Love comes in its own time and on its own terms.

Excerpt
Rosemary sat down on the steps and waited for Jase to do the same. She loved this time of day when the last rays of the setting sun bathed the backyard in a mellow glow and the crickets in the bushes began their nightly roll call. “Last time we did this, my legs were longer than yours.” His chuckle brought her glance to his face.
“I bet mine are longer now.” To prove his point, he proceeded to stretch out his leg next to hers. “By at least three inches.”
Her legs might be almost as long, but they looked like a child’s in comparison. His thighs were thick with muscles and easily double the width of hers. When she realized she was staring, she rushed into speech. “This is something of a novelty for me. I’m taller than most of the people I work with.”
His grin told her that he’d noticed her perusal of his legs. She waited to see if, like most men, he would make a comment about it, but he didn’t.
“I spent the majority of my teenage years worried that I’d never grow. Every few months, my dad would give me a pep talk about growth plates and being a late bloomer. He’d remind me that Quinn had been the same way. I wanted to tell him that all of that was fine and good, but I needed those extra inches right then, not five years down the road.”
Rosemary leaned against the balustrade and tilted her face toward the darkening sky. “My biggest hang-up was wearing glasses. By the time I was fourteen, my lenses were as thick as the bottom of a glass soda bottle. My mother finally let me get contacts, but by then my eyes were so bad I still had to wear glasses to read or drive. After I left home, I saved enough money to have laser surgery. That took care of the problem.”
“I’ve compared high school to a refined sort of torture. At a time when you’re the most insecure about your appearance is when you look your worst. I remember the horror of waking up in the morning to see a huge pimple on the end of my nose, but that wasn’t nearly as bad as the time I was standing at my locker right after P.E. and realized I’d forgotten to put on deodorant. Before I could make my escape, the girl who had the locker next to me showed up. I had a major crush on her at the time, so it was even more mortifying when she kept asking me what the smell was. I wanted to crawl into a hole.”
At least his embarrassing moments were confined to high school. Rosemary had tripped over her own feet while walking around on stage during a concert. “Did you ever get together with her?”
“Sadly, I did not. I really thought that being given lockers next to each other was the universe’s way of telling me to go for it. My ability to quote the periodic table backwards and forwards wasn’t nearly as impressive to her as the muscles on the man-among-boys who had the locker on the other side of her.”
Rosemary sent him a quick sideways glance. “You don’t appear to be doing too badly in that area now.”
He shrugged. “I sold out to the myth that a guy with a six-pack can get any woman he wants.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “So women are the reason you spend your days in the gym staring at yourself in those floor-to-ceiling mirrors.”
“That was my motivation at first. Now I do it because writing is sedentary. I need the exercise. But I don’t stare at myself in the mirror. I use it to see if there are any pretty girls working out that I might like to talk to.”
“So you use the mirror to check out girls? That’s even worse.” She reached over and pinched one of the legs she’d been admiring. The shocked look on his face was priceless.
“What was that for?”
“I don’t know. I just felt like doing it.”
One eyebrow went up. “Does that rule apply to me, too? There might be something I want to do some time.”
It wasn’t so much his words as the gleam in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat. “I took a self-defense class. Proceed at your own risk.”
He laughed. “Thanks for the warning.”
Rosemary heard Ambrose pawing at the door. Before she could move, Jase reached behind them and let the cat outside. Ambrose surveyed the situation and made his move, placing himself in the six inches of space between her and Jase.
“Ambrose is giving me the same look I used to get from the fathers of the high school girls I dated.”
She stroked the cat’s head. “He’s a little protective of me. Are you going to tell me why you’re willing to take care of him?”
“Is the other subject getting too hot for you?”
“Do you want another pinch on the leg?”
“Sure, but could you switch to the other leg? I bruise easily. As for Ambrose, why wouldn’t I want to help you? That’s what friends do for each other.”
“I haven’t been too lucky with my friends lately.”
“You have to get back on the friendship horse and try again. I’m a good place to start. You have some history with me.”
“Why do you care?”
He smiled, and Rosemary’s breath lodged in her throat and refused to budge.
“Isn’t it obvious? I like you.”
She liked him, too. Much more than seemed possible after only a few hours together and definitely more than was wise considering she couldn’t see him again.
“Is something wrong, Rosemary?”
“Wrong? Not at all.” She rose to her feet with a quickness that belied her words. It was the rabbit bolting into the nearest hole all over again. “I’m in the mood for some pudding. How about you?”
“I’m game.”
By the time they were eating their dessert in the living room, the momentary panic that had seized her on the porch had faded. She was making too much of too little.
Jase pointed to the dark wood paneling on the walls. “Have you thought about just painting over it?”
“Can I do that?”
“I don’t see why not. If you get the primer tinted to match the paint, you’d probably only have to use one coat.”
“So you know about painting, too?”
“I know a little about a lot of things; you know, a jack of all trades, master of none.” He sat up and reached for his wallet. “Do you have a pen I could borrow?”
“Sure. Let me get one out of my purse.”
After she handed it to him, he wrote something on a business card. “If you decide you want to go with Winnie and me on Wednesday evening, you can reach me at this number.” He laid the card on the coffee table and rose to his feet. “I should get going. I have an errand to run for Quinn before I go home.”
“Thanks again for fixing the sink. I really appreciate it.”
“It was my pleasure. Goodnight, Rosemary.”
“Goodnight, Jase.”
Only after he pulled out of the driveway did she return to the living room and pick up the card he left her. The front of it had a picture of a bouquet of flowers along with the contact information for a florist shop called Violets are Blue. On the back, along with his name and number, he’d written, “We don’t lose friends; we just learn who our real ones are.”
His words touched her and at the same time made her feel guilty. Why did he have to be so thoughtful and funny and nice and sweet and charming? It made closing the book on her reunion with him that much more difficult.
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]


Praise for the Book
“While I loved all the books so far in the Finding Love series I think this was my favorite. […] Read this book and the entire series you won't be disappointed.” ~ Mary Rhonda Marquez
“This is my first Delaney Cameron book but it won't be the last. I loved how she wove ordinary life into a tale of great love. There wasn't the drama of misunderstandings and heartache. Instead it was a sweet story of love in a mostly linear progression. No soap operaesque details involved, just genuine characters finding their way to life together. Jase and Rosemary are inspirational.” ~ Granna C
“I wholeheartedly recommend this story. Actually, you can't go wrong with any of Delaney 's books.” ~ Dacia W.
“This was a New author for me. Loved her book and style. The book was clean. No sex and no swear words. Loved the H and h. Good read for all ages. Will definitely read more by this author.” ~ Avid Reader
“I have loved this whole series ... each book has had great characters but Jase is probably my favorite. He was definitely swoon worthy to me!!! He was so romantic and sweet ... definitely my favorite book boyfriend in this series” ~ booklover

About the Author
Delaney Cameron
I’m a Georgia girl at heart if not by birth. I love to read, watch college football, and spend time with my husband. I’m a hopeless romantic so there will always be a happily ever after in my stories. I also like to write about second chances because love doesn’t always work out the first time.
My books are sweet romances set in both contemporary and regency settings featuring stories about the journey to love, from that first meeting to the point where two people know their hearts are no longer their own. My characters aren’t perfect. They make mistakes and have faults like the rest of us. They learn the sometimes painful truth that the path to love isn’t always smooth, but it’s a road worth traveling.

Also by the author:

Giveaway
Enter the blast-wide giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card or PayPal cash.


Links


Friday, April 13, 2018

Love in Bloom featuring Laurie Lewis


EXCERPT and GIVEAWAY
Love on a Limb
by Laurie Lewis

Love on a Limb by Laurie Lewis

Throughout the month of April, we will be featuring 10 fabulous authors who write clean romance. Today we feature author Laurie Lewis with Love on a Limb, which is FREE today only (13 April).


This book blast and giveaway is brought to you by I Am A Reader.


Description
Matthew Grayken is young, successful, and dying, which is why he’s about to propose to a total stranger. He isn’t interested in love. He needs a caregiver, a companion, and someone to be his legal voice when he can no longer speak for himself.
Lonely, compassionate nurse Mikaela Compton is intrigued by Matt Grayken’s tender request, but when their friendly marriage turns into love, she rejects the inevitability of Matt’s death and prays for a miracle instead.
Mikaela succeeds in reigniting Matt’s will to fight, but his body is losing the battle and he is suffering. She recognizes that her urgent need to save Matt has caused her to betray the fundamental promise she made him–to help him die peaceably.
Matt needs a miracle, and Mikaela believes one is attainable, but she will need to leave him at the hour of his greatest need. She’s about to learn that while love sometimes draws you close, it sometimes requires you to go out on a limb.


Excerpt
“All right, smarty-pants.” She leaned close to deliver what Matt assumed was another comic barrage, but as she drew near their eyes met and understanding passed between them. Understanding that, despite their efforts to make light of their situation, they were alone in a valley and the way out would require a hard, bloody crawl. He saw determination mixed with fear and pure love. It warmed him, as if the hands of her heart had reached into his chest to warm and calm his own trembling heart. Her face hovered near his, becoming almost iridescent from the emotion there. Her expression spoke a language of its own, one Matt translated before she uttered a sound.
“Your plan failed,” she whispered. “I know you already love me.”
Matt felt the skin of his face prickle as heat rose from deep within him. A sheen of sweat broke across his skin from the stop-and-go battle raging inside. He knew his face took on the same sleepy-eyed glow of unanswered want she showed. He leaned forward, closing the inches between them and whispered back. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, Mikaela. I’ve always loved you. From the first day I watched you walk through the clinic.” He closed his eyes. “But what does it get us?” He looked down at his bruised body and shook the papers about AHCC and cow shares. “Look at the fight we have ahead.”
Mikaela closed the distance and brushed her lips over his. His sensible side told him to push back, but he had no will to send her away again. His battered hands framed her face and pulled her mouth to his. He felt wholly alive for the first time in weeks, not a patient first, but filled with the thoughts and feelings of a man. Of a husband. He tried to raise his arms to wrap her close, but a sharp pain ended the effort as Mikaela pulled back an inch, her smile completely happy and her eyes joyfully bright.
“I love you, Matt.” The words were spoken in a whisper, so light and airy that they tickled his lips. “Just finally be mine. Give me these arms to hold on to. This shoulder to lay my head on. This mouth that speaks honesty to me and gives me kisses. These are enough until you’re well. Just knowing you love me is enough.”
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]


Praise for the Book
“Not just great writing but spectacular. This is a book that I will keep in my library and cherish.” ~ Amazon Customer
“This book is an inspirational read, but not preachy! I added Laurie L.C. Lewis to my list of authors that I will be reading in the future.” ~ Kimberly
“Oh my goodness me, this book...what can I say? It wrenched so many emotions from me I didn't know where one finished and the next one started! Beautifully written, this book deals with the tricky subject of impending death, which could have become mired in misery but is quite the opposite. It is uplifting, heartfelt and hopeful. […] I was riveted from the first page to the last words. Superb book.” ~ R. Norman
“I seriously don't have words to describe the deep emotional roller coaster ride this book launches you on, leaving you dizzy, breathless, and believing in hope. It is little short of perfect in terms of a clean romantic read. As always, Ms. Lewis is at the top of her craft. I imagine she'll stay there forever.” ~ K Swinton
“This is a book that can be very emotional and overwhelming at the least. […] This was a book that I read at one sitting and I think that it was hard to put down.” ~ Ester Farthing

About the Author
Laurie (L. C.) Lewis
Laurie (L. C.) Lewis knows that wherever life takes her, she will always be a Marylander at heart - a weather-whining lover of crabs, American history, and the sea. She admits to being craft-challenged, particularly lethal with a glue gun, and a devotee of sappy movies.
Therapists have been chasing her down to diagnose her multiple personality syndrome, since she writes under three names – historical fiction as L. C. Lewis, romance and women’s fiction as Laurie Lewis, and general fiction as Laurie L. C. Lewis.
Laurie was honored to win the 2017 RONE Award for Inspirational Romance. She also has been an IndieBRAG Medallion Honoree, and a New Apple Literary Medallion winner. She has twice been named a Whitney Awards finalist, and a USA Best Books Award finalist.

Also by the author:

Giveaway
Enter the blast-wide giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card or PayPal cash.


Links


Tuesday, April 10, 2018

"Lies in the Wind" by Judy Bruce


NEW RELEASE and EXCERPT
Lies in the Wind
(Wind Series Book 5)
by Judy Bruce

Lies in the Wind (Wind Series Book 5) by Judy Bruce


Today we feature Lies in the Wind, the fifth book in the Wind Series by Judy Bruce. The author stops by to share an excerpt from the book. Keep an eye out for my review, coming soon. Also available: Voices in the Wind (read my blog post), Alone in the Wind (read my blog post), Cries in the Wind (read my blog post), and Fire in the Wind (read my blog post).

Alone in the Wind by Judy BruceCries in the Wind by Judy BruceFire in the Wind by Judy Bruce


For another book by this author, please check out my blog post on Death Steppe: A World War II Novel.

Description
In the fifth book in the Wind Series, two Dexter residents die in an apparent murder-suicide. Sensing great evil, Megan seeks the truth. When another murder occurs, Megan and the police understand the mortal danger to others, including a young autistic.
Meanwhile, Megan’s love life falls apart. Again. With the help of Edgar Allan Poe, she uncovers fraud, betrayal, and lies, thereby exposing the killer, and forcing a fight for survival. Again.

Excerpt from Chapter 1
Life calmed down a bit—I hadn’t killed anyone for several weeks. And I didn’t intend to shoot my new boyfriend, Jay. I spent a horrible day in jail falsely accused of murdering my last boyfriend, but I made bail and was later dismissed from charges. I continued to wallow in grief and guilt over the death of my unborn child; otherwise, life was good.
Still, as I rode my black stallion across a swath of buffalo grass, I sensed the roiling in my guts meant something was coming to invade my desolate corner of the world, also known as western Nebraska. I’d been shot at, divorced, knifed twice, and I’d solved murders and family mysteries; yeah, I knew about trouble. After I slowed Strider to a canter, I checked my smartphone for messages, but found none. I turned my horse around and spurred him to a full charge certain of one thing—the calamity now brewing would find me.
***
The next day passed normally, though my clients shocked me with their punctuality; still, my barometer of danger, my guts, percolated. Late in the afternoon, I stood chatting with Eldon Strumple, a retired minister, in the doorway of my law firm office when pounding sounded at the front entrance. Glenda, my receptionist, asked through the intercom who called.
Glenda turned toward me and said, “It’s Celeste Percival. She’s rather excited.”
“Let her in,” I said as I shook Eldon’s hand.
As Eldon wandered over to chat with Glenda, who was preparing to leave for the day, Celeste burst through the door, paused, spotted me then ran toward me.
“Megan! My aunt and uncle are dead and they’ve arrested my dad!”
Well, that got my attention. I ushered her into my office and closed the door. Celeste was early twenties, with dark hair and a medium build. I met her during my jail stint.
“Okay, now take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”
“Well, my mom called me and that’s what she said.”
“So your father was arrested for murder?”
“Yeah.”
“Hang on,” I said as I dialed my phone. Within a few minutes, one of my law partners, Rich Dewey, entered the room.
“Now, let’s go through this step by step,” I said. “Your dad has been arrested. Do they think he killed your uncle?"
“And my aunt. He went to their house because no one came to get Mitch and they didn’t answer the phone.”
“What police department was at the scene?” asked Rich.
“Ah, the county sheriff. But this makes no sense. My folks and my aunt and uncle always got along. Now they’re dead. My God.”
When she began to blurt and sob, I summoned Glenda, who brought a root beer and a cream cheese pastry.
After Celeste took a few swigs of the root beer, she said, “No sense, no damn sense. Those Redmonds always hated the Goblets and my mom is a Goblet and my aunt Val is a Redmond and Shiny Goblet would kill anyone for a buck.”
Rich looked at me in utter confusion then turned to Celeste and said, “I’ll go the sheriff’s office to see your dad. I’ll be in touch.”
Rich closed the door behind him.
“Who’s Shiny Goblet?” I asked.
“Fred Goblet.”
“Oh, right, he operates an insurance agency in Kimball. He seems respectable enough.”
“Oh, he’s a snake, a’right. A slimy cheat. Got divorced because he was foolin’ around on his wife. That was years ago.” She heaved a great sigh. “My aunt and uncle…just can’t believe it…finally getting’ that room built on…and now they’re dead.”
“Celeste, I want you to go home. Mitch is there, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. Van brings him about quarter till four.”
“Then go home…help take care of him. I will go to the scene. You’ll hear from me or Rich, or maybe Gus, my other partner.”
“But I want to go with you,” she said.
“They’ll never let family get close. I don’t even know if I can get in even as the family attorney. Listen, your family needs to keep Mitch, at least for now. I’ll try to collect clothes and things and bring them over.”
Celeste nodded as she rose and walked stiff-legged to the door. It occurred to me that I hadn’t smelled smoke on her, which pleased me.
I rang Melanie Sundstrom, my Nordic-blonde paralegal, who quickly appeared at the door. I gave a quick sketch of the situation then told her to follow Celeste home.
“Wait, take this.” I walked over and gave my National Geographic floor globe a spin. “Mitch loves this…the colors and the texture of the mountains. I can get a new one.”
“I saw Junior and Valerie at Custer’s just last week,” she said.
“I know...it’s horrible. Oh, let Gus in on things when his meeting ends. Thanks.”
On the way to the Percival house on this chilly November day, I thought about Edward  “Junior” Percival and Valerie Percival. Last week, they’d brought in Mitch, their only child, a profoundly autistic, mentally retarded, nonverbal youngster of fifteen. That poor boy—he struggled greatly with change, so the permanent disappearance of his parents would hit him hard. As I neared the Percival house, my hands began to sweat. I’d never visited a murder scene—well, except for the ones I’d participated in. Three Cheyenne County cruisers were parked in the street blocking traffic. So I parked a block away. Onlookers gathered in the yards. An ambulance was parked backwards in the single-lane driveway behind a silver pickup truck I assumed to be Junior’s. The Dexter police car was parked directly in the front of the house—the presence of our chief of police heartened me.
Chief Tate McNeill met me as I approached the sidewalk of the narrow, light beige, single-story house.
“Megan, I don’t know if they’ll let you in,” he said.
“Well, let me try.”
The moment I approached the front porch, the county sheriff and one of his deputies crowded me to a stop.
“What do you think you’re doing?” said Sheriff Stan Smythe.
“Do you know Mitch?” I asked.
“I know about him,” said the burly cop.
“Then you know he’s epileptic.”
“Ah, right.”
“Now that boy is going to suffer greatly over a loss he’ll never understand. I don’t think he needs seizures on top of the deaths of his parents, do you?”
The sheriff scratched his late-day whiskers.
“I’m here to collect meds and clothing for Mitch. I’m also his attorney and the attorney for the Percival estate. Now, I’m asking that you allow me to enter this house. Chief McNeill can supervise me.” I handed him my card.
“You will not disturb or take photos of the crime scenes,” said the sheriff.
“I have no legal interest in the criminal aspects of the case. I do plan to bag up several of Mitch’s toys and DVDs, with your permission and inspection, of course.”
“All right, make it quick,” said Sheriff Smythe.
As soon as I stepped into the front room, I heard him—a gasp of surprise then a grunt. And I felt it—evil. Cold and terrible. Then I saw him—flat on his back, blood had run down from the bullet hole under Junior’s chin onto his neck, staining his sweatshirt collar dark. Blood had pooled beside him on the wood floorboards and the edge had been smudged. Blood was splattered on the taupe wall behind him. A rifle lay on the floor next to him, but not in his hand. My God.
I knew this man. He was no more. Why?
Chief Tate gently tugged my arm and I walked with him. But leaving the room gave me no relief—the house was thick with menace and pain; fear hung in the air as we entered the kitchen. The second death happened here—I knew it before I saw her.
A scream jolted me to a stop. She had screamed in terror, gasped, and then gurgled. I stepped forward and peered around the kitchen table. Val was slumped against the door to their bedroom, a dark hole in her forehead. She wasn’t bloody, but a dark smudge was visible on the left side of her neck. Her head was propped up by the frame of the door, her arms hung down at her side, and her left leg was straight out in front of her as the other was bent so that her foot rested against the inside of her left knee. Along the inside of the pant leg was a dark spot and the sole of her gray slipper showed a dark smudge. Like Junior, she wore jeans, but with a royal blue fleece pullover, probably the clothes they changed into after work. My phone buzzed inside my purse, but I ignored it.
“The evil just hangs in the air,” I said.
“Um, right,” said Chief Tate. “The Sheriff says Junior must have shot her, shoved her against the door…she’s got bruises on both sides of her neck. Then he went into the front room and shot himself.”
“But that can’t be. I know these people…I mean, not close…but it doesn’t seem right.”
My whole body went to lead. Chief Tate pulled me to a cupboard in the kitchen.
“Ah, right. Meds.” I started opening the cupboard doors.
“Here,” Tate said as he looked into a cupboard beside the sink.
On the inside of a door was a list of medications, their dosages, and the schedule of times for administration. Prozac, Seroquel, Risperdal, Depakote, multivitamin, Miralax, melatonin—no wonder they needed a list. I found a box of plastic bags. I started loading the stash of bottles into the sack. Tate gently pulled down the list from the door and added it to the bags. I took it to the front door where I set it down for the deputies to investigate. The sheriff walked over to me.
“Judge Shelton is a family friend. I’m going to tell him of your good judgment in allowing Chief and me to get these items for Mitch…or would that get you in trouble?”
He nodded to me. “That would be fine, Miz Docket.”
When I walked back to the kitchen, Tate was grinning at me.
“Quite the diplomat,” he whispered.
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]


Praise for the Book
“I’m a huge fan of the Wind Series and this one is by far, the best! Judy Bruce pushes Megan, already reeling from the loss of her unborn child and many other lives, to the very limit and we’re left to watch as Megan picks up the pieces. Emotional roller coaster wrapped up in a brutal double-murder is the crux of Lies in the Wind. While there was quite a bit more characters to keep straight, it added to the depth of the mystery and I enjoyed trying to figure it out before Megan did. An edge of your seat thriller with a flawed female protagonist who puts her life on the line to help solve the crimes in her town. Highly recommend!” ~ N. N. Light
Lies in the Wind is a murder mystery with just enough romance sprinkled in it to give it a real down to earth feel. This novel is evenly paced and is a well-written whodunit. Bruce covers all her bases on this one keeping the reader involved, tracing over the clues and the characters woven into the story. Bruce will keep you guessing who the killers and if Megan Docket will be able to prove the guilt of the real murderer? The mix of deduction, intuition, and well, quiddity kept the pages turning. I just could not wait to see what happened next. So if you’re up for a ‘who done it’ with a little Western/American Indian twist you could easily get hooked with this latest in Judy Bruce’s Wind Series. You can rest assured you will not be able to set it down.” ~ AuthorsReading
“Bruce keeps up a crackling pace in her fifth Docket novel, helping the reader keep track of a large cast through good exposition and a cast list. Megan’s psychic abilities help nudge her in the right direction but aren’t overly convenient, giving her room to demonstrate her lawyerly and investigative chops. As with the previous novels, Megan’s personality interestingly blends compassion and practicality. She’ll kill if she has to but pleads with God, ‘Please don’t let me be evil.’ A few clever surprises keep readers guessing with a satisfying outcome. Another fine series entry, featuring a well-rounded heroine whose psychic abilities are just some of her gifts.” ~ Kirkus Reviews

About the Author
Judy Bruce
Judy Bruce is a novelist and screenwriter. In addition to her acclaimed novel, Death Steppe: A World War II Novel, five stories have been published from her Wind Series: Voices in the Wind, Alone in the Wind, Cries in the Wind, Fire in the Wind, and Lies in the Wind. Judy maintains a website and a blog. She is a wife, mother, and sister residing in Omaha, Nebraska, and a Creighton University law school graduate. Her autistic son keeps her in touch with her quirky side.







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