Stella Marie Alden loves Zumba, yoga, watercolor painting, and fixing up her house. Growing up in Vermont, crayons fought over placement in their cardboard box and imaginary friends crowded the house. Her brother complained. “Tell her no one’s here, Mother.". She’s been a librarian, a clarinetist, recording engineer, electronics repairman, and now architects software. She lives in NJ with her life-long hero and two cats. Her girls are grown but ever supportive. Go Mom
Do you believe in lust at first touch? Neither did they.
As if electrocuted by two-twenty volts, I stare with my mouth dropped open. I know a God-damned spell when I feel one but can’t break free. That gorgeous tea-witch swears it’s not her doing but I'm not buying it. She's a little liar. Don't get me wrong, she's stunning and I'd do her in a heartbeat but that's not the point. I don't like being compelled to do anything. Besides, I got serious Guild work to do. There couldn’t be a worst time to get shackled.
He obviously doesn’t like this attraction any more than I do but there’s nothing to worry about. I don’t need a boyfriend and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t choose him. All male witches, healing or warring, are arrogant, pig-headed, and best if bedded for one night. Otherwise, they try to tell you what to do, where to go, and are generally a pain in the ass. Besides, this one’s got a shadowy side, I can feel it hovering right under the surface.
Is it lust or love?
How do two people, forced together by an ancient spell, find their real feelings?
2017 Rone Paranormal Finalist writes another spell-binding tale of Magic and Mating
She's got an artificial intelligence app. He's got her. If they don't get their sh*t together soon, New Yorkers are going to die.
Don't freak out, Jones. It's probably just a bug.
Oh. My. God. I'm on a bus with a friggin' terrorist!
In the bus's side window, my wide-eyed reflection gawks back, pale Irish skin tinted green. And instead of a successful entrepreneur, I see a woman biting down on her lower lip like a scared teenager.
Yeah, I want off this death trap. Who wouldn't? One small push on the stop bar and I could get free. But I can't just leave a bus filled with innocent people,can I?
I brace for the searing blast wondering if there really is a heavenly doorway with brilliant white light.
There's a clunk. I wait. Then nothing.
Finally a male voice shouts from upfront, "NYPD. Everyone remain seated!"
When I open my eyes, I figure I didn't survive the attack and this is the afterlife. Otherwise the chances of seeing Colin O'Brien again are what? A hundred zillion to one?
...He hasn't changed a bit. He's still got those dreamy baby-blues and jet-black lashes.I can't handle his intense stare, his breath. Just like long ago, his presence makes my panties melt.
Year of our Lord 1283
In the light of the early dawn, Lady Fay traverses her parapet wall and waits with bow drawn taut. Only when she realizes the group of men who exit the Saxon rowboat are tonsured does she allow herself to breathe. She need not shoot another of King Alexander’s suitors. At least not today. With a wicked grin, she lets go the bowstring, and the arrow makes a perfect arc to land directly in front of the one in the lead. She isn’t so fond of priests, either.
Nicholas Bruce jumps when the barb lands within inches of his sandaled feet. The former queen of the Isle of Man is just as beautiful and deadly as he remembers. Suddenly, he is not so certain that this holy disguise will work. Surely she’ll remember him, the bastard grandson of the mighty Earl of Annandale. But what choice does he have? If he wants to survive, he needs to bed her, and soon.
What foul devilry is this? They told her he was dead. After six long years without a word, her knight falls onto his knees and sings poetry. Then he denies their son? Heed this well. She’s no longer an innocent who’ll giggle and tarry on his every word. The sharp edge of her tongue and knife is the only welcome he’ll get. She’ll not marry him. Besides, the pain would be too much to bear should he ever leave again.
Her attitude is beyond understanding. What voice did he have? The king commanded and he obeyed. Regardless of her hatred, the Templar knight weds. This time she will travel with him and he will win back her favor. It’s a long road from London to Hadrian’s Wall. Evil deeds weave a plot laced with castles, kidnappings, and missives. Will the treacherous journey split them asunder forever? Mayhap only in heaven will he rekindle the passion they once shared.
Year of our Lord, 1276.
In the hours just before dawn, blasphemous curses echo throughout the stone manor. A knife clatters to the floor, and a feisty young widow is bound, blindfolded, and led to the marriage altar. The king couldn’t possibly have sanctioned this farce of a marriage, could he? After all, she alone transformed a few mud huts and starving serfs into a flourishing town, never once hesitating to pay generous taxes to his royal kingdom. Abandon her beloved people to be ruled by her new husband, an ignorant Templar knight? Never! the Lady Ann vows.
A murderous witch for a wife? The Beast of Thornhill finds himself in the middle of either a cruel jest or an evil conspiracy. After returning from the Holy wars, he accepts bestowment of a small parcel of land in return for saving King Edward’s life. But the reward comes with a warning regarding the estate’s mistress. Despite his insatiable attraction to the black-haired beauty, he allows her time to warm to him while observing her strange, forward-thinking ways. But when all is on the line, will he stand by her through the inquisition or will they both hang for her secrets?