A Life Through Books

Mystery
Date Published: April 27, 2015



Shelby Nichols isn’t your average soccer-mom turned private investigator. She’s more on the quirky side with a little wild thrown in. That’s because a near-fatal gunshot wound to the head left her with the ability to read minds. This lands her in all kinds of trouble, and this time is no exception. Helping a reporter, Billie Jo, get the low-down on a case is just the tip of the iceberg. When her best friend’s niece goes missing, Shelby is pulled into a conspiracy that involves the police and the leader of a violent drug ring. Add to that a stranger in town with ties to the mob-boss she works for, along with a known assassin out to kill him, and Shelby is crossing danger at every turn. Will she find the answers in time? Or will this be her last adventure?




EXCERPT

I stood inside the small women’s locker room dressed in white drawstring pants that ended several inches above my ankles, and a robe-like top that crisscrossed to close in front. Luckily, I wore a black tank top underneath, since there wasn’t anything besides a white belt to hold it together.
I tied the belt in a knot and let out a breath, hoping I’d done it right. The white training uniform was a bit stiff, and worse, felt like a poufy marshmallow around me. I let out a disgusted huff, knowing that I looked like the womanly version of the Pillsbury dough-boy.
Billie Jo waited just outside the door, but it was hard to step out there dressed like this. Did I really need to do this? Especially since I’d know what everyone was thinking about me? Reading minds often came in handy, but not in situations like this.
Of course, the fact that a serial killer had recently taken me hostage and nearly killed me certainly helped. It was time to learn some self-defense, so nothing like that could ever happen to me again.
So what if I looked silly, and that with my ‘superpower’ of reading minds I’d know what everyone thought of me. I could take it. Besides, I had to start somewhere, right?
I took a calming breath and opened the door.
Billie smiled encouragingly before glancing down at the way I’d tied my belt. Her brows drew sharply together, and she was thinking it looked like a disaster. No way did she want me out on the mat looking like that. “Here…let me help you with that. Tie it this way…” She demonstrated how to do it, then pulled it tight. “Okay. Now you’re good to go.”
“Um…thanks,” I said.
She didn’t miss the embarrassed flush creeping up my neck and was thinking I should just suck it up and be grateful she was there to keep me from looking like a dork. With an indulgent smile that contradicted her thoughts, she turned and led the way to the mat.
Swallowing my pride, I followed behind, noting that her black skirt-like pants with the waist-high belt looked ten times better than my outfit. Compared to her, I looked like I was still in my underwear and had forgotten to put my pants on.
A vision of getting out there and everyone laughing at me crossed my mind but, given how Billie made sure my belt was right, I didn’t think she’d let me embarrass her like that. Still, once we got to the mat, I let out a relieved breath to find I wasn’t the only one wearing white training pants.
Billie did a quick bow before stepping onto the mat, so I bowed as well. I followed her to stand in a line before the teacher, or Sensei, as everyone called him. He wore the same black pants as Billie but, on him, they seemed more dignified and masterful. He was also a big, tall and brawny kind of guy. With his long, gray-black hair pulled back into a ponytail, he intimidated the crap out of me.
He caught my gaze and nodded a cool greeting while I tried to hide my jittering nerves. After he introduced me to the rest of the class, we began with a few stretches and warm-ups. Then he taught us that the most important part of Aikido was learning how to fall safely and then roll around to get back up.
Besides Billie, there was only one other woman in the class. Her name was Melissa, and she was a second-degree black belt like Billie. With the two of them paying special attention to me, I began to relax and actually started to enjoy myself. Even the rolling-around part didn’t seem so bad. They showed me some basic techniques, and my confidence grew.
Near the end of class, Sensei asked if I had any questions, so I blurted out the one thing I’d been thinking about all night. “Yeah. I was just wondering…if someone was to get me in a choke hold with his elbow around my neck and started dragging me backwards, would I be able to get away?”
His gaze caught mine, and his eyes narrowed. He was thinking that, from the fear in my eyes and the tone of my voice, it probably wasn’t a rhetorical question. No. I had the look of someone who’d been there, and a spike of anger rushed over him. He’d seen it more times than he liked, and it always made him furious.
“Yes you can. I’ll show you how.” He turned his gaze to Melissa and asked her to help him demonstrate the technique. Since she was about my size, and he was huge, I was interested to see how she could possibly take him on and come out on top.
He stood behind her and clamped his elbow around her neck beneath her chin. “The first thing you do is tuck your chin down so they can’t choke you.” She did this, and Sensei proceeded to explain how she needed to pull down on his elbow and step back, then grab his wrist and forcefully push outward with his elbow still bent. “At this point, you will break his arm.”
Whoa! That sounded pretty awesome, and I couldn’t help smiling with wicked delight. He demonstrated the technique a few more times, adding different variations to the attack, and then asked me to practice with him. Him! The biggest guy in the class!
I nervously licked my lips and, as he put his arm around my neck, that feeling of helplessness washed over me. But he patiently talked me through the moves and, after breaking his hold a few times, confidence replaced my fear. I even forced him to the mat once. Who would have thought? By the end of class, I was pumped. This was the right place for me, and I could hardly wait to come back and learn more.



About the Author

As the author of the Shelby Nichols Adventure Series, Colleen is often asked if Shelby Nichols is her alter-ego. "Definitely," she says. "Shelby is the epitome of everything I wish I dared to be." Known for her laugh since she was a kid, Colleen has always tried to find the humor in every situation and continues to enjoy writing about Shelby's adventures. "I love getting Shelby into trouble...I just don't always know how to get her out of it!" Colleen lives in the Rocky Mountains with her family. Besides writing, she loves a good book, biking, hiking, and playing board and card games with family and friends. She loves to connect with readers and admits that fans of the series keep her writing.

Historical Romance
Date Published: April 17, 2015




Can she betray the Gypsy clan who saved her for the love of a stranger?

Martine Petrulengo is stifled by the traditions of her adopted Gypsy clan. They gave her new life when she was left all alone. And now she is expected to marry in order to forge clan allegiances. When she nurses handsome and charming Lord Declan Forrester back to health, she is lured by the seductive idea of life outside of the clan—and the prospect of love with the Irishman.

Can he prove his innocence in order to claim his Gypsy?
Lord Declan Forrester trades prison bars for a loveless marriage in order to save his soul. And now he’s trying to prove his innocence not only as a traitor, but that of his wife’s murder.  When the lovely and beguiling Martine saves him, he falls in love for the first time. Yet, the obstacles of his past seem insurmountable.

Martine and Declan must fight tradition, prejudice and the haunting ghosts of their past in order to fight for their love and ensure their future.


EXCERPT

A rider urged his horse forward. He wore a leather doublet of a quality she’d never seen. The black hide was pierced with metal and thick stitching formed elaborate Celtic designs. Regal and rich. His breeches hugged his thighs so closely ’twas indecent, but that didn’t stop her gaze from venturing along the hard expanse of his legs. Heat crept up her neck and flushed her face like a flame.

He tipped his head in her brother’s direction. Martine gasped.

The stranger from the glen.

“We’ve business,” was all he said.

Rafe nodded, but didn’t twitch a muscle. Martine wanted to run from the confrontation, hide in her grandmother’s berth safe from the bewitching blue eyes of the intruder. But her feet stayed rooted to the ground.

Och, this man was handsome. Strong jaw, brilliant eyes, and a broad mouth composed a man so striking. His face was a composite of hard planes of granite that matched the intense glare of his eyes.

The man sighed and his comrades inched closer to his side. They dressed as he did, except their clothing lacked the obvious quality she could see stitched in the leather of his.

“The villagers are concerned with your presence, Gypsy.”

She could feel the tension in the tight line of her brother’s shoulders, taste the anger in the air that hummed about him and the stranger. His jaw clenched and he remained silent.

“I’ve come to ask you to leave. Gypsies bring foul memories to Riverton.” His voice was rough, husky, as he commanded her brother.

Rafe stepped forward. She knew he wished to throttle the tactless man. “We’re Tinkers. Men and women with skills and trade.”

“And itchy fingers if Lady Bannon’s sheep have say of it,” the man behind the stranger spouted. The other men chortled and slapped the man on the back.

The stranger held up his hand and was rewarded with instant silence.

Her brother shrugged, a harmless action unless you were Rafe Petrulengo. “My clan has no need of other people’s sheep.”

Martine took a step forward.

The stranger’s head snapped in her direction.

He leaned forward in his saddle. “You’ll leave my land, or pay the consequences.” His tone brooked no room for argument.

“We’re people of the land, trainers of dogs, and masters of horses.”

Her brother’s words seemed to befuddle the stranger’s friends. They looked to one another, smirks creasing their faces. If only they knew her brother’s genius.

“I’m Lord Declan Forrester, Earl of Riverton,” the stranger pompously said. “This is my land—and you are to leave.”

Rafe bowed deep at the waist, his extended arm almost grazing the dirt before him. “As you wish.”

“Be gone by morning. ’Tis all the time I’ll give you.”

A shiver ran up her spine at the cold gruffness of his voice. He clucked his horse forward, a magnificent animal, well-muscled with a gleaming coat of black.

Martine was so aware of the lord’s presence, her skin tingled. And she knew without looking up that trouble was about to ensue. He stopped the horse before her and just sat. When her gaze met his, the lord nodded his head and gave a mocking salute.

She sighed, not knowing why she was reacting so unlike herself, why she was enthralled with the stranger.

With a nudge to his horse’s side, he was off without a backward glance at her or her brother.

One look at Rafe and she knew he’d witnessed what had transpired. Rage boiled in his dark eyes and tension pulsed his jaw. He tapped a pointy leather boot against the packed earth. The women of the clan weren’t to be appraised by Gajos. Especially a Gajo who’d ordered the Kapo to leave.

No matter, she thought with a smile of satisfaction. Lord Forrester had acknowledged her, and the realization swept through her with unparalleled warmth.



About the Author

Madelyn Hill has always loved the written word. From the time she could read and all through her school years, she'd sneak books into her textbooks during school. And she devoured books daily. At the age of 10 she proclaimed she wanted to be a writer. After being a "closet" writer for several years, she sent her manuscripts out there and is now published with Soul Mate Publishing. And she couldn't be happier! A resident of Western New York, she moved from one Rochester to another Rochester to be with the love of her life. They now have 3 children and keep busy cooking, watching their children's sporting events, and of course reading!

Contemporary Romance
Date Published: 3/29/15




Endings always lead to new beginnings.

Dawn Delaney must forge ahead when her marriage crumbles. But for this formerly rich Mrs., entering the working world, and possibly dating again, makes her feel like a fish out of water.

Bradford Shaw has a soft spot for curvaceous Dawn from the moment he sees her. Brad senses she’s scared of a romantic relationship after all she’s been through. But he’s going to show her that after a dark period in one’s life, there’s always a new dawn.




EXCERPT

Chapter One


Two Years Earlier


“You’re wearing my favorite lingerie.”

Dawn Delaney cringed at her husband’s words. There was no awe in Gary’s voice. The words fled his lips as if he were reading the weather report.

She tried to fight the panic demanding to take over. She had to contain her emotions if she wanted to seduce her husband of over eighteen years. She wore an expensive white La Perla bra and panty set that framed her curvy shape nicely. Her skin glowed from a generous rubdown of mango and papaya body butter. Dawn could smell the vanilla fragrance she’d spritzed at key spots on her body. If Gary walked a bit closer, he’d be able to smell it too. But so far, Dawn’s efforts had no effect.

She wasn’t a size six, seven, or eight for that matter. And after years of marriage, Dawn wasn’t too keen on wearing the revealing lingerie when one of her regular nightshirts was more comfortable. Still, she made the effort.

Gary strolled over to the La-Z-Boy recliner in their bedroom and picked up the Clarks shoebox. He’d asked Dawn to buy the black leather shoes for him earlier that day. She’d called him while shopping at Pentagon City Mall. It’d save him the trouble of driving there later in the week. As usual, Dawn obliged his request.

She watched as he examined the Clarks, turning them upside down to take a look at the soles. New shoes held Gary’s interest more than their marriage—their old marriage.

Dawn stood waiting. She recoiled further because she knew she deserved better treatment from Gary despite being a stay-at-home mother and a housewife. But what was she to do? She wanted for nothing because of him.

She sighed and rested both hands on full hips. Another man would devour me right now, she thought. Dawn tried to squelch the desire she still had for Reginald. The fling with the contractor, though physically satisfying, only made her more confused about her marriage.

Dawn thought about the good times she and Gary’d had in the past. How he used to make love to her two and three times a day. She thought of the grand way he’d proposed to her and the utter feeling of bliss that had consumed her when she’d said yes. She thought of their daughter, Sherine, whose simple existence comforted Dawn. Gary and Dawn had raised a great kid together, who’d soon be off to college when summer ended.

They had to get their marriage back on track. It was one thing to miss Gary, who often travelled, while Sherine had lived at home. But Dawn couldn’t imagine being alone in the family’s spacious house with no one to talk to.

It was the memories of the good times that made her hang on.

She cleared her throat. Gary finally put down the shoes. He sighed and put his hands in the pockets of his Armani pants. His jacket wasn’t on. Dawn knew that it was downstairs, hanging on the back of a kitchen chair. Gary always took off his jacket and placed it on a chair as soon as he got home. It was a constant in an otherwise impulsive man.

“Why don’t you go take a quick shower and then let’s have some fun?” Dawn rested most of her weight on her right foot, tilted her head, and smiled seductively.

Gary exhaled and adjusted his tie. “I don’t think this is working for me anymore.”

“Excuse me?” Dawn straightened her posture. She couldn’t have heard Gary correctly.

“Us.” Gary moved his hands back and forth in the air. “I want a divorce.”

Gary, please. But the words didn’t come out. Anger temporarily muzzled Dawn. She felt it surge. “You’ve chosen your mistress over me,” she spat.

Gary shook his head. “It’s not that.”

“That WASN’T a question.” Dawn’s chest heaved up and down. She felt like she couldn’t breathe under the pain pounding down on her. “You told me…promised me, that you’d end things with her.”

“We’re different people now, Dawn.”


She shook her head. “You’re the one who changed.”

Gary shrugged. “I guess money can do that to you.”

Fantasy
Date Published: April 14, 2015



Kalen has escaped from Morinvale, but at a heavy price. Blind and crippled, the best hope for his people is for him to choose a new Rift King, forfeiting his life in the process. With his failure to broker peace between Kelsh and Danar, war is inevitable. For the first time in a thousand years, the Rift prepares to ride into battle.

Choosing his successor is only the beginning of Kalen’s troubles: his Guardians have turned against the Code and Covenant. Instead of securing the Ascension of a new Rift King, they’re doing everything in their power to ensure Kalen’s survival, even if it means the destruction of the Six Kingdoms.

To make matters worse, the skreed conjured in Morinvale aren’t just growing stronger. They’re breeding, and they aren’t picky about what—or who—they’ll eat.


EXCERPT

Kalen’s rage flared, fueled by the First’s fury. “That’s one thing I’d like to do before I die,” he snarled.

“What?”
 “I’d like to kill every last one of those Blood Priests and stick their heads on spikes.”

“How barbaric.”

“I wouldn’t want to poison the poor nibblers with their filth.”

“How kind of you. Won’t you save a few for us?”

Kalen snorted. “The offer’s open. If you want to be the Rift King, you’ve my blessings without question. Then you can do whatever you want to the Blood Priests.”

“Kalen,” Maiten growled.

“I’m blind and crippled. I’m in no position to stop an assassin. That’s just the truth. I might be good, but I’m not that good. I don’t know of anyone who is. You understand, don’t you?”

“How can you be so calm about this? You’re talking about your own death!”

Kalen sighed. It used to scare him, and that fear had driven him to do anything necessary to survive. The years had, like the wind on stone, worn him down. “I told you, Maiten. You’re one of my oldest friends, you know that. You’ve known it from the beginning of my reign. I’m tired. It used to frighten me. Sometimes, it still does. You know what they say about Rift Kings.”

“People say a lot of things about the Rift Kings. That doesn’t mean any of it is true, Your Majesty.”

“The Rift Kings aren’t served out of love. They never were. They never will be. It’s always out of fear. There’s a reason for that our—there’s a reason our voices aren’t heard among the songs of the ancestors. What’s left?”

Maiten was quiet for a long time before he said, “You’re different.”

Shaking his head while laughing, Kalen replied, “No, I’m not.”



About the Author

RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.

When she isn't playing pretend, she likes to think she's a cartographer and a sumi-e painter. In reality, she herds cats and a husband, and obeys the commands of the Ghost of Tsu Dhi, the great warrior fish.

In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Should that fail, her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until she is satisfied.