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Saturday, October 25, 2025

Read Moon Fated Mate by Beth D Carter #Contemporary #Romance #Shifter

  


Moon Fated Mate
Sheridan Pack Book 2

Key Words: 

Shifter, PNR, Fantasy Romance, Short Romance Read, Werewolves, Alpha Male

Synopsis:

Brinnah lives virtually a slave in her traditionalist pack. As an unmated female, she is expected to cook, clean, and follow orders. She thought she’d be in that role forever, until a mating bond strikes … binding her to a mean, self-important sentinel wolf who drags her to the alpha, demanding to be set free.

Brinnah learns that the only person who can break the mating bond is an enchantress, and told to go to Sheridan, Colorado to find her. Only, when she arrives, she meets Everett Brice, and he instantly declares they’re mates.

He’s shocked when she says she already has one.

The more time she spends with Everett, the deeper in love she falls. Could the High Luna have given her a false mate in order for her to find her true moon fated mate?


Get It Now:

Excerpt:


The doctor tilted her head, studying her for a moment. Brow furrowing in confusion, he moved her hair around her ears and sucked in a breath. “Oh, my. I haven’t seen ears like yours in quite a while.”

“You’ve seen others with ears like hers?”

“Yeah,” Doc said. “From packs in the Northwest Territories of Canada. Backwoods beliefs if you ask me. More like a cult mentality.”

Fear sliced through her. “Please don’t send me back. I need asylum. I don’t want to return.”

Everett took hold of one of her hands. “You don’t have to. Alpha Jericho will take care of it.”

“I would never betray the trust of one of my patients,” Doc told her, patting her shoulder comfortingly. “I know what those packs are like. Who rules them. You’re safe here, my dear. Now, let me get a wrap for that ankle and then you can go.”

He left the room, leaving her and Everett behind. Suddenly self-conscious, Brinnah looked down at the floor. A gentle finger lifted her chin until she was looking at him.

“Don’t be scared,” he said. “You’ll never have to go back there again. I’ll protect you.”

“You don’t have to—”

He placed his finger across her lips. “Don’t finish that statement. Yes, I have to, because your scent is intoxicating. My wolf wants to wrap itself around yours. Brinnah, I think you’re my moon-fated mate.”

Immediately she shook her head. “No, I can’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Because I already have one.” Tears clogged her throat and it took her a moment to be able to talk again.

Stunned, Everett shook his head. “What? No, that can’t be.”

“That’s why I’m here,” she continued. “I’m trying to find out how to break the bond.”


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The Complete Series

  


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Who am I?

Beth D. Carter grew up in Missouri and began writing at a very young age after being influenced by her mother's very naughty romance novels.

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I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors, or corporate high rollers. I try to write characters who aren't cookie-cutter and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box. Music inspires me and each story has its own signature song.

I am a full-time writer and stay-at-home mom which means I watch a lot of animated movies. Over and over again. I hate washing dishes but I love cooking. I hate washing clothes but I love wearing them. Writing my bio is difficult because I never know what to say so I hope you like this one. My favorite color is red but I look best in black (it's slimming). I hate people who don't pick up their dog's crap in public places, people who don't use turn signals, and I really hate people who are rude and condescending. I especially hate discrimination in all and every form. And although I love holding a book in my hand, I absolutely adore my e-reader, whom I've named Ruby. So many books at the touch of a button! I love to hear from readers so I've made it really easy to find me on Facebook or Twitter or email me at: beth@bethdcarter.com.

Stalk Me

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bethdcarterauthor
Threads: https://www.threads.net/@bethdcarter
BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/bethdcarter.bsky.social
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bethdcarter/
Website: https://bethdcarter.webador.com/

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Friday, October 24, 2025

Read Two Men and a Baby by Isla Olsen #MMRomance #SexyNerds #SingleDad

  



Two Men and a Baby

Love & Luck Series Book 5

Key Words: 

MM Romance, Rom-Com, Hot Bearded Men, Sexy Nerds, HEA, Surprise Baby, Single Dad, Brother's Ex, Pining

Synopsis:

Josh
Here’s some advice for surviving your ex’s wedding weekend:
1. Just smile and nod whenever someone lays on the sympathy
2. Stay away from tequila
3. Don’t make out with any of your ex’s brothers

Whoops
Connor Kelly sure has changed over the past eight years. He’s no longer the scrawny emo kid I remember from before he moved away; and, oh yeah, apparently he’s into guys now...
But it doesn’t matter how hot Connor is, or how funny, or how charming - he’s my ex’s brother and that means he’s off limits.
It doesn’t seem like anyone’s ever explained that rule to Connor, though...
When he calls one day begging for my help, I’m expecting it to be yet another ploy in his effort to get me to go out with him. Cue my surprise when I find a shell-shocked Connor with a baby he claims is his son.
As if it weren’t already hard enough resisting Connor, watching the way he connects and bonds with his son is going to make it damn near impossible...
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More in the Series



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Who am I?

Isla is a cocktail-loving, history-obsessed Aussie who writes low-angst, high-heat queer romantic comedy.

She is best known for the Love & Luck series and P.S. I Loathe You.

Some of Isla's favorite tropes include: Friends to lovers, queer-awakening, age gap, enemies to lovers, best friend's/sibling's ex, secret fling...and many more!

Fun Facts about Isla:
If she had a time machine she'd go to London on July 13, 1985, to see Live Aid.
She's travelled to 44 different countries 
If she could re-live any year of her life it would be 2000
Her all-time favourite books are Cassandra Clare's Shadowhunters world
Her all-time favorite movie is Gladiator
Her all-time favorite TV show is Friends
Her all-time favorite song is "Live Forever" by Oasis, and she has the title tattooed on her forearm
The five people she'd invite to a dinner party are Neil Patrick Harris, JFK, Courtney Act, Miranda Hart, and Freddie Mercury

Stalk Me

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/islaolsenromance
Facebook Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/2346067248994507/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/islaolsenromance
Website: https://www.islaolsen.com/

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Sunday, October 19, 2025

Back to...writing!

 

Famous Murders 

As I've said here before, the summer months are usually slow for writing. I take notes, but I rarely sit down at my computer to work on a novel. Now that the days are shorter and the weather is rainy and windy, I have more time and enjoy sitting at my desk with a cup of coffee and my cat on my lap. I read what I’ve written so far and find my way back to the scenery.

FBI Agent Nicolas Hayes is confronted with a female serial killer who charms her victims, promotes their careers, and demands their devotion. When they fail her, she leaves them dead and looks for another man to manipulate. She has successfully evaded the FBI’s investigation thus far by changing states, locations, looks, and behavior.

It’ll be fun to write about how the FBI team deals with the case, and maybe even solves it in the end (Yes, I wrote stories in which the killer is not found in the end,)

Writing crime novels was never my goal when I started writing. I was more into science fiction and adventure, but when my muse suggested a loving couple and asked me what his profession might be, we agreed that a career agent in the FBI would be a perfect choice.

Here’s an excerpt from one of my previous novels, Famous Murders (book 2 in the series).

 

A killer on the loose, an FBI-agent in love, and a famous actor in danger.

After three murders in the Washington, DC, vicinity, the FBI Agents Hayes and Beckham are assigned to solve the case. Although the murders seem incoherent at first, it becomes clear that there are connections between them. It turns out that the murderer is far from having reached the end of his deadly list.

Aside from the investigation, Agent Hayes has to find a way to get on with his demanding girlfriend and her challenging love games. Can he do both and not lose himself?



Excerpt

“What are these?” Nick asked when she picked up a pair of unique handcuffs.

“Hands front.”

“As you say.” He held up his hands to be bound.

“These are handcuffs designed for hanging. They don’t squeeze your wrists, but spread the pressure on the inner wrists and along your palms.”

“Great. Does all that stuff come with a manual?”

“Step on the stool and reach above you. There’s a protruding beam.”

He looked up. “Don’t say you got that prepared while I was in the shower!”

“It wasn’t that much work, and I found a ladder around here. Or do you think Richard would pull out stacks from down here to have the rest tumble on him?”

“From what you told me, I wouldn’t take him to be a man to bother with carrying firewood.”

“Point taken.” Jacklyn made a face. “Now, reach for the beam and put the chain above it.”

Nicolas stretched to get it done. He tested the beam to carry his weight, and it held.

“Now, step down from the stool.”

“You want me to hang here? Like some piece of meat?” Nicolas breathed deeply when she didn’t budge and slowly stepped off the stool to find his toes hardly touching the sandy ground. “I’ve had more comfortable positions, that’s all.”

“You look ravishing, my lover. All those muscles are showing, and I’m free to kiss every one of them.”

“Not that I wouldn’t allow it at any other position.”

“That’s not the same.” She put the stool aside to brush her lips along his bare chest. “And now, let me show you why this is a perfect position.”

“Yeah, that argument will need some convincing elements. I already feel as if I’ll have arms as long as my legs.”

Jacklyn laughed merrily, and Nick knew he’d done something right. It was one thing to trust your partner. It was another to find true common joy.

“You’re still standing on your feet.”

“Toes. Only on my toes. What’re you doing?”

“Hmm, I’m thinking about heightening your pleasure by blindfolding you. Oh, I see, that’s a no-go. I understand.” She dropped what was in her hand and fetched a bowl with steaming water, two towels, and a razor. “That look on your face is worth the whole drive up here.”

“If you wanted to shave me, we could’ve stayed in the bathroom, right?”

“Not for this.” Apparently, Jacklyn took unearthly delight in lathering his chest and armpits to shave him smooth. “You don’t know how wet I am,” she whispered, smiling seductively. “Imagine me already dripping with expectation. I’m so hot for you I could touch myself now and come. Would you wanna watch?”

The razor elegantly swung toward his midsection before she put it beside the bowl to towel-dry his upper body.

Nick swallowed drily. “You would…you’re gonna…strip? Here?”

She opened his jeans and slowly peeled them down to his knees. Without losing eye contact, she rubbed her chin along the bulge and drew his boxer shorts toward his knees. Gently, still smiling the smile of impending delight, Jacklyn closed her lips around his member. He panted and looking down at her he realized he’d allow her to do anything with him if she caused him such pleasure.

Nick thought all body heat would immediately jump to his testicles. His buttocks clenched, but the way he stood left him no room to push forward and into her mouth. She licked him, stroked him with her teeth and slowly coaxed him up. Then she withdrew.

“Wow, Jacky, that’s some…vicious treatment!”

“Says the man who brings me to climax every time I sleep with him.” Jacklyn stroked along his trembling legs before returning to his cock and balls. “I think this is only fair. You make me a quivering mess, and I’m helpless in your arms.” She kissed his chest tenderly.

“Before long, my arms will be as stretched as Reed Richards’ in the Fantastic Four!”

Chuckling like only a woman could, Jacklyn made sure his arousal grew, no matter the precarious position. Her hands and mouth were on him, gently first, then harder until he stood erect and expecting. Again, she withdrew.

“Oh, come on, Jacky! Don’t…what the hell are you doing?”

Jacklyn lathered his pubic hair, then swung the razor around his quivering cock, changing his appearance profoundly.

“But—”

“Nick, only old men and those who never want to have sex have a jungle down here. All other men on this planet prefer this area neat and…” She cocked her head for a smile and impish expression. “Much easier to access for the rest of the toys I brought.”

Nick rolled his eyes heavenward, knowing she would get her way if he didn’t strongly object. Obviously, he’d missed that moment and now suffered from not speaking his mind in time. However, the feeling was strangely pleasurable, and Jacklyn was the most careful barber he could imagine. From the few insinuations she’d made during their conversations, he expected her to have experience.

When he looked down after Jacklyn was done, he felt alienated from his body. Since the days of adolescence, there had been pubic hair around his genitals. As if she understood his feeling of loss, Jacklyn caressed the soft, vulnerable skin with her lips and tongue and made him forget his regret in ten seconds. He was still hard, and the more she caressed him, the more he wanted off the hook and to carry her back to the bedroom, living room, or any other room in the cabin, just to sink his member into her.

Jacklyn opened her short morning gown, and he looked at her perfect nakedness.

“Like the look?”

He couldn’t help returning her playful smile. “I like everything about you, ma chérie, and you damn well know it. So…will you let me off the hook now?”

“No dice.” She placed the small stool in front of him, stepped on it, and touched his body with hers. “Like that feeling?”

Nick had always been a bad liar and denying his arousal when her hard nipples pressed against his chest was impossible. She caught his penis between their bodies and moved up and down slowly, one hand around his scrotum.

“Tell me, do you have plans for today?”

Nick’s laugh came out a strangled whisper because his mind couldn’t handle the sexual temptation and exchange of words at the same time. He was beyond desire and wanted release badly, but Jacklyn made sure he had no leeway to rub his body against hers and reach what she denied.

“Tell me. Is there anything on your list? Reading a book, maybe, or running a mile?” The question was accompanied by another, not so gentle, tug on his balls.

“Oh, ouch! Other than wanting to fuck you blind? No.” His panting grew louder. “Jacky, this is…torment.”

“Yeah, but a cockish way of torment, right? So fitting, this barn. I’m getting down on you dark and dirty until you can’t think of anything than being horny.”

“Got that accomplished, J, no question.”

“Don’t think you’re the only one aroused, G-man. You’re heating me up.” Her voice sank to a whisper. “All I want is to rub you so long until you scream out my name when you come.”

“That’s not that far away,” he said between clenched teeth, causing her to giggle.

“Ah, you can live like that for some time, believe me.”

“Don’t say you’ll let me—” He stopped to listen. “There’s someone out there!”

He had hardly spoken when a portly man rounded the corner to stop with his thumbs in his uniform pockets, looking concerned. He had a feisty face with a mustache and small eyes drawn to slits under his wide-brimmed hat.

* * *

Find my books at extasybooks.com,

have a look at my website annraina.com

and follow me on Instagram ann_raina_author

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Saturday, October 18, 2025

Witchy Weekend

 We're in October already. Time sure flies when you're having fun! The trees are changing, pumpkins are everywhere, ghosts, ghouls, zombies and witches are beginning to make their appearance in the neighbourhood. I don't decorate for Halloween. Do you? My neighbour does a great job and I enjoy their creation.

Halloween has never been one of my favourite time of the year. I think that spills over to dress up and costume parties. I always go as me. 

Do you get into the Halloween spirit?

But, that doesn't mean I don't like horror movies, sci fi scary stuff. I do. But all year LOL. I was hoping to get a witchy book out this month, but sadly it's not going to happen. I LOVE the story line and since it's not strictly a Halloween themed story, I've decided to put it off until next year to release. 

In the meantime, I'm writing book 3 in the Black Phantom series. The first two books - Obsession is only .99, and Temptation just came out a couple of weeks ago is available in paperback and ebook. The third book is tentatively titled Devotion. The plan is to get it out before January if not sooner.


Obsession - .99 for limited time

When Ellie accepted the hand of the tall, blond masked maître-d, she wasn't prepared for her response to him. He’s irresistible and she was captivated. She needed him. She wanted him.

Rourke is used to getting what he wants and he wants this mysterious woman more than he's ever wanted anyone before. He intends to discover who she is beneath her masquerade and have her.

Their true identities concealed, they set out to use each other for pleasure with no risk of entanglement or commitment…but that may prove easier said than done.

Content Warning: Explicit sex/language, domination, light bondage and kink.


Temptation - available in ebook & paperback


A man used to getting what he wants, Tom Rourke doesn’t take being discarded lightly. Smarting from Ellie’s rejection, he still can’t get her out of his head. She’d roused feelings in him he didn’t know existed. But they are no longer together. Refocusing his energy into ownership of the Black Phantom, he meets Heather Canyon. She casts an erotic web, but Rourke must resist her – or does he? – if she is to be his manager.

Rourke’s proposition is the perfect opportunity for dominatrix Heather to start anew and let her talents shine.

Ellie thought ending things with Rourke was the answer to her obsession with him. Her feelings for him run so much deeper than she thought possible. He is everything she desires, but he’s her boss.


Don't forget to sign up for my newsletter where all the news will be spilled first! Plus you get a freebie download.




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Thursday, October 16, 2025

The Art of Forgetting: A Writer's Best Friend

 


Once upon a time (many years ago), I briefly found myself in a clapboard, rusty trailer, semi-ghost town in Nevada. The hotel I stayed in was a rundown has-been, where ceilings soared high, and the lumpy, almost colorless wallpaper was surely a century old. 

Outside, an ever-buffeting wind dragged dust across the frozen ground, rattled low-lying grasses, and set the wooden doors of abandoned shacks tapping. 

The only warmth to be found was in the hotel’s shabby bar room where, under an ancient tin ceiling, a talentless band whined out bad country music, and eccentric locals dished up tall tales, wry humor, and suspicion. It was a singular place, that community, eerie, even magical, and I’d give anything to be able to go back to it…

But where was it?

Believe me, I’ve searched for it over and over, traveling back and forth across Nevada, peeking into shabby trailer communities, fading towns, boom towns, ghost towns, and I’ve never found it. What was it called? Was it the way I remember it? Perhaps my recollection has so distorted the place, I would never recognize it today. Even more troubling, has memory played me a trick, created a place that never existed?

Is that a bad thing? Certainly not. My faulty memory has helped create the semi-ghost town of Blake’s Folly, Nevada. Blake’s Folly is a backwoods community of abandoned clapboard shacks, endless wind, and scraggly vegetation with strange local names like snatch-it shrub and sticky snakeweed. Back in the late 1800s, this former boomtown boasted three mining companies, a railway line to Reno, a lot of money, many saloons, and quite a few brothels. 

But the glory didn’t last. It was soon clear that the silver was running out, and by 1904, those sane enough to do so were pulling up stakes and leaving. But a few did stay on — the courageous, the cranky, the loners, the rebels, and the sort of people who love windswept places and closely-knit communities.

All I had to do was write about them.




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Wednesday, October 15, 2025

What might a post-collapse world look like?

My upcoming book, Until We Met Again, is a time travel love story set against the backdrop of a post-collapse society. I was knee-deep in learning about climate change when I wrote it, hoping to understand this thing we call the Anthropocene and what parameters we could be working with as time rolls on.

It wasn’t the most uplifting subject of study, but it did help with figuring out how to build a ‘post-collapse’ world, a society of people getting by while waiting for their time travel mission to succeed. This nerdy topic is utterly fascinating to me, since it combines the disciplines of innovation and maintenance to secure human survival and well-being – contrast this with today where, often to our own detriment, innovation tends to overshadow maintenance and care.

Anyway, I wanted to share some facets of my fictional futuristic universe, in case you find this topic interesting too 💜

Small camps that grow enough food to sustain their population

According to the International Union for Conservation of Nature and Natural Resources, cities “cover only 2-3% of land, [but] account for 75% of natural resource consumption, up to 80% of energy consumption, 70% of greenhouse gas emissions, and 50% of waste production.” In light of this, a futuristic city didn’t feel quite right for a post-collapse society.

The place my protagonist calls home is instead a village-sized camp, one large enough to shelter the descendants of disaster survivors, and small enough to sustain itself on what it can gather and produce in the safer areas of surrounding terrain – most of which is underground, protected from any bad air and harsh weather that blows their way 🌬️

Unlike the beautiful long-ago deserts of the hinterlands, this one palliatively sustains what life remains on it, below it. Our small subterranean populations—dispersed, desperate and dwindling—barely eke out survival on this dying world. The wind comes from the west this evening, and the crackle of home is a soft, sparse patter. For now, the air is safe to breathe.

Contact parties: people sharing resources

Scattered across the country, these camps need a way to stay in touch and share resources. Though not completely technologically challenged, the survivor society considers it too expensive to stay constantly connected the way we are today.

The main technology for staying in touch over distance is good old-fashioned foot travel, bearing heartfelt messages along with extra supplies and manpower 👣

We first met at the bar on the other side of the refectory. You arrived with a contact party from one of the protein supply camps along the southwest coast. You brought a letter from my sister. You asked for me by name.

Oh yes, they travel back in time

My protagonist is gloomy about her life at camp. To the point where I’m almost sorry to subject you to her despondence, despite all the hope around her. But of course, I’m looking at this from a real-world point of view, where people like you and me can’t just go back in time to change stuff.

But she can. In this fictional world, where people weave furnishings from mushroom bark and human hair, volunteers willingly go back in time to make tiny changes, enacting big and hopefully positive impacts.

I’m not convinced we’d actually do something like this if we had the technology for it. We’d lose a lot by returning to the past too often. I imagine we’d get stuck, become culturally stunted, with future generations deprived of the chance to dream their own dreams.

Then again, maybe we’ve already lived out a disastrous future, and the present we’re experiencing now is a result of someone having gone back to save us from living the worst possible version of our lives.

Until We Met Again: A Time Travel Novelette by JL Peridot

A time traveller absconds to the past in search of her lost love.

One word: my name. A call from Origin through the neural lace grafted to my brain and nerves, connecting me to another place in another time. A reminder of what I’m here to do.

I clutch a bottle cap; its sharp metal edges ground me in the present. It’s funny, don’t you think, to consider this moment the present, as if the past and future I came from aren’t supposed to exist? If you were here, I’d ask. You’d smile and kiss my forehead and say you love my nonsense questions.

But you’re not here. They want me to forget you ever were.

💖 Preorders open until 27th October ðŸ’–

JL Peridot writes love letters to the future on devices from the past. Visit jlperidot.com for the full catalogue of her work or subscribe to Dot Club for a collection of her tiny stories.

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Monday, October 13, 2025

A Halloween Paranormal Romance complete series

 If you are looking for a Halloweeny read, check out this series:


The five young women of Hecate’s Fury are more than rock stars.

They are Shadow-walkers, chosen to help the supernatural world.

There’s just one problem. No one trained them.


(Each book is a standalone love story.)

                                            
                                              The Story behind Shadow-walkers

"Music is the strongest form of magic." Marilyn Manson



This series is inspired by my time as a rock and roll musician. Because of my love of everything otherworldly, I added a paranormal element to create a romance series featuring five young women in a controversial hard rock band who have supernatural powers. I always felt making music is a kind of magic, so this seemed like a natural addition.

Each story is a standalone love story. I'm really excited about this series because it's true to my heart. Plus, there is music to go along with this book series. I'm writing and recording songs again with my husband under the name Hecate’s Fury, the fictional band in my series.


Buy Links: https://www.kelleyheckart.com/shadow-walkers.html

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Sunday, October 12, 2025

The Magic That You Do - A Halloween Romance - Love Story #TinaDonahueBooks #HalloweenRomanceLoveStory #TinaDonahueMonthlyNewsletter #Giveaways #EyeCandy

 


AMAZON

The Magic That You Do

A Halloween Romance - Love Story


Passion. Friendship. Love. Some things a man simply can’t forget…

Finn has no idea what he’s doing at a haunted house on Halloween, but his tour guide Caty certainly rocks his world. Irresistibly drawn to her, he indulges in wicked delight and a return to their shared destiny.



TEASERS











What else will you learn about in my newsletter?

CLICK HERE TO READ




Thanks so much for reading today's post. Hope you enjoyed it!

Follow me on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue


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Saturday, October 11, 2025

The month of Halloween demands mystery!

Jan Selbourne—a writer whose work I admire and love to read—and I (as Anne Krist) wrote Evil Lives in the Night as novellas so readers could enjoy the suspense of a good mystery in a tidy package. As always, she brings her knowledge and love of her homeland, Australia, in her tone and nuance. You feel as though you’re a part of the Oz experience. For my historical mystery, I channeled my childhood in Iowa and my grandfather’s Lithuanian heritage for a tale that could have happened on the street where he used to live. We sure hope you enjoy these two novellas!


Blurb:
Two great historical mystery novellas that will keep you guessing.

In Jan Selbourne’s The Next Stop is Dead, a woman boards a city train one night and finds herself alone in the car with four strangers, all men. When she discovers one of them is dead, she has to find a way to exit the train and get help. Will she escape, or will the next stop be her final one?

In Anne Krist’s Missing, sisters Audra and Daina communicate using “twin language.” But how much difference will that make when Daina disappears? Can Audra find her sister before her abductor ends Daina’s life? Even with the help of an over-protective detective, saving her missing twin might not happen in time.

 

 

Buy link:
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Evil-Lives-Night-historical-suspense-ebook/dp/B0B5B2VPB6/

Amazon Aus: https://www.amazon.com.au/Evil-Lives-Night-historical-suspense-ebook/dp/B0B5B2VPB6/

 


Excerpt:
From The Next Stop Is Dead

Alison buttoned her coat against the cold wind blowing along the platform. Melbourne might be dull and staid, but we hosted the 1956 Olympic Games, we are known for our theatres and culture and Flinders Street Station was once the busiest in the world. Something the bragging Sydneysiders hadn’t achieved.

She looked at the ticket in her hand and up at the train timetable. The next train would go express from Richmond to Caulfield then stopping all stations to Dandenong. You can’t sit here all night.

Wheels on the tracks and the train pulled into the platform. Not one of the new blue trains but an old red rattler that should have been pensioned off years ago. Three young, laughing women wearing Footscray Tennis Club jackets got out of the end carriage and hurried down the exit ramp. Feeling miserable, Alison got in hoping she’d be on her own. Empty except for three men sitting together on the last row of seats. She walked to the other end of the carriage and sat down. The whistle blew and the train moved away from the platform and into the tunnel.

The train increased its pace through Jolimont Yard and without meaning to, Alison glanced at the three men at the other end of the carriage. They hadn’t moved, just sitting there reading newspapers without speaking. The man next to the window looked at her, lit a cigarette and after blowing a cloud of smoke into the air lifted his newspaper closer to his face. She turned to the window again as they passed the huge Melbourne Cricket Ground, holy ground for cricket fanatics and home of Australian Rules Football. Watching grass grow was more interesting than watching cricket.

The train was slowing down to stop at Richmond station. The door opened and she looked up as a man with a newspaper tucked under his arm got in. He walked past her and took a seat on the other side of the aisle. The train began to move out of the station.

Four men and one woman and they’d express through the next five stations before stopping at Caulfield. Feeling very uncomfortable she held her overnight bag closer and gazed through the window as the train gathered speed. Except for the clattering train wheels it was quiet, creepy quiet. They’d just passed South Yarra station and the reflection in the grimy window moved. That man was looking at her. Oh hell, he was standing up. Her chest thumped when he crossed the aisle and sat beside her.

A wide smile. “What are you like with crossword puzzles?”

Alison felt the blood drain from her face. Should she get up and go closer to the three men? It struck her then they hadn’t spoken or moved since she got on the train.

He lifted his newspaper. “The crossword is very hard today. Can you help me?”

Her throat went dry. “Pardon?”

“Two heads are better than one,” he said brightly and pointed to the top of the page. For a few seconds her eyes refused to absorb the words in thick capital letters. DO NOT LOOK UP. GET OUT AT THE NEXT STOP. THE MAN IN THE MIDDLE IS DEAD.

 

From Missing:

Something woke her. She moved and the magazine fell to the floor. Groggy, she scraped her hair back from her face and then rubbed her eyes. She didn’t need to look to see that Daina’s bed remained empty—she’d feel her sister if she were there.

The room was dark, the door closed. But she’d left the light on in the living room and the bedroom door open. Hadn’t she?

She’d forgotten to wind the alarm clock and it had stopped at two-oh-five. She clicked on the lamp on the table between their beds and got up to check her watch on the dresser. Three o’clock. Her heart raced and her mouth dried. Where in the world was her sister?

Suddenly, the front door closing sounded like a shot. She slid into her slippers and tightened the sash on her robe. “Daina!” She threw open the bedroom door and rushed to the apartment door.

Automatically grabbing her key from the dish by the door, she rushed out into the hallway and down the stairs. She hadn’t reached the bottom step when she saw a man halfway out the door. He turned to look at her and she gasped. His face was rough. Stubble made it dark. A jagged, angry scar ran from his left temple to his jaw line. There was no smile, no lightening of expression. With a scowl, he pulled a black, flat cap low and then left.

The door hardly made a sound but his presence in her building set off an explosion in Audra’s mind. Who was he? How had he gained entrance? What was he doing at three o’clock in the morning skulking around her building?

Fear gave way to panic. Her knees nearly gave out when the thought occurred that he might have been in their apartment, that it had been he who she heard closing their front door. Then the thought that screamed in her mind. Did he have anything to do with Daina’s disappearance?

On shaky lags, she climbed the stairs. She’d make a pot of coffee and then wait until daylight made it safe to walk to the bus stop to start the trek downtown to the police department. She’d think later about calling her parents but first thing this morning she’d have to file a missing person report for her sister. Her twin. The other half of her soul.

 


Reviews:

“I enjoyed these stories. They fit together despite being half a world apart. There's an innocence to the stories you don't find in the crime drama of today.” 4 Stars

“I really enjoyed these two novellas. I am a fan of mystery and historic novels, so these two were great to read. Keep up the good work ladies I am waiting for the next books or novellas to be published. They are great gifts for my sister. Highly recommended.” 5 Stars/4 Stars

 

A little about me:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

 After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Author links:

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

 

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