Today I'm so happy to welcome Anaiah author Michelle Lowe to the blog! Welcome, Michelle! Please tell us a bit about yourself. I have lived in the same small area of North Carolina all of my life. I am blessed to have my husband of over twenty-two years,...
Last night I posted on Facebook about the mass shooting in Uvalde, Texas. The senseless killing of 19 children and their two teachers outraged me. I asked how any mother who’d borne a child, adopted a child, or poured her life into a little one, wouldn’t also be outraged by what had happened.
For silent moments, Wild Wind stared down at her. An eagle feather fluttered from a lock of his long, dark hair. A fringed buckskin shirt and leather leggings molded his muscular frame. A rifle slung over his shoulder hung from a leather strap.
The years they’d spent apart hadn’t tempered his arrogance. He sat tall and erect upon his mount, head unbowed, his lean features expressionless. At last, he spoke. “Lona.”
Jessica returns home after a divorce and her friend and neighbor, Liam, is there to help her pick up the pieces of her heart. Although Liam has been in love with Jessica for years, the fact that she was married meant he couldn’t show her how he felt. Now that she is single again, he decides to show her how much he cares. As their friendship grows into a romantic relationship they face many challenges, not the least of which is problems with Jessica’s ex.
Who knew that it would take a year of seclusion amid a pandemic to provide me with the opportunity to go public with it all? It wasn’t until then that I understood why the Lord had lain Jeremiah 30:2 upon my heart in January 2020: “This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘Write in a book all the words I have spoken to you.’” Looking back with 20/20 vision, it all makes sense to me now. If I’m completely honest, I welcomed the pandemic as a gift—a reprieve, if you will.
Following a tragic accident over a decade ago, Zoey Wright vowed to never move home to Harmony, Illinois. When her career stalls, however, she’s back in town and working with her high school sweetheart, Noah Kidwell, on his company’s special collaboration. Dealing with her ex is the last thing she wants to do, but she has to take the opportunity to snag a much-needed promotion. Besides, she a professional—she can handle Noah for a few days, right?.
“I am a recovering ass. Of course, at times I still am one, but it’s less often. I now recognize my “assness” more quickly, recalibrate, and take action to make amends for my poor behavior. It’s important to acknowledge the truth of our mistakes without turning towards self-contempt, shame, or beating ourselves up for the harm we have caused to those we love. Yet, we must take full responsibility for our poor behavior and fully own what we have done and learn to live differently, becoming men who bring life rather than further heartache. This book is just as much for me as it is for you. I am in the process of learning to become a good and safe man and writing out these truths in this book has helped me immensely. I hope it will help you on your journey to becoming the man you most desire to be.”
Everyone knows Lily Atwood―and that may be her biggest problem. The beloved television reporter has it all―fame, fortune, Emmys, an adorable seven-year-old daughter, and the hashtag her loving fans created: #PerfectLily. To keep it, all she has to do is protect one life-changing secret.
Today’s interview is with mystery author Karen Abrahamson from our Sisters in Crime – Canada West Chapter. Karen is the author of the police procedural Detective Kazakov Mysteries and the amateur sleuth Phoebe Clay Mysteries, She also writes fantasy and romance novels. Her latest short fiction can be found in the anthology ‘Moonlight and Misadventure’, and in upcoming issues of Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine and Black Cat Mystery Magazine.’ When she isn’t writing she can be found with a camera and backpack in fabulous locations around the world.
“At last she reached the edge of the porch roof where she remained crouched like an awkward gargoyle, her arms out, her tee-shirt plastering itself against her shivering body.
The chair under the doorknob in the bedroom squealed suddenly as someone tried to push the door open and she glanced down at the ground, fifteen feet below her. If she missed the tree, she could really hurt herself.
Then the bedroom door burst open in a shriek of splintering chair and she launched herself off the edge of the roof.
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