#Friday'sFeaturedTitle #WildIrishRogue

Title: Wild Irish Rogue

Author: Genie Gabriel

EMAIL: genene@genenevalleau.com

Genre: Mystery/Romance

Buy at: Amazon, Barnes and Noble

TAGLINE

Can a hot-tempered Irish rogue become a loving dad, a heroic cop, and a small town legend?

BLURB: Wild Irish Rogue

After a series of tragedies, Bernie O'Shea turns his Irish stubbornness to becoming a loving dad, a heroic cop, and a small-town legend. He doesn't plan on finding a woman who becomes his courageous life partner or enemies among those he thought were his friends.

EXCERPT: Wild Irish Rogue

Bernie's heartbeat stuttered as his old pickup topped the gentle rise of land that marked the boundary of his grandparents' farm. The burned out remains of the old house slammed memories as hard as a fist into his gut as he braked to a stop.

The flames licked greedily up the brick chimney, consuming the tinder dry wood siding, and lighting up the night sky. Bernie bellowed in helpless rage, dunking himself in the water trough used for livestock before plunging into the flames and toward the bedroom his grandparents had shared since their marriage decades earlier. 

Fury fueled his strength as he cradled his grandmother in his arms and carried her outside, then returned for his grandfather. He laid them side by side on the cool, damp grass, searching frantically for a pulse. But he knew it was futile. They were already dead. 

Tallie laid her hand over Bernie's whitened knuckles. Through the sheen of his tears, he saw the mirror of his sadness in her eyes. He turned his hand over and clasped hers tightly.

Together, they would rebuild. A house. A family. A legacy this town would never forget. 

Bernie lifted his foot off the brake and drove the pickup a short distance past the site of the old house.

"Is the barn safe?" Tallie asked. "Perhaps we could set up the tent near there so the boys would have a place to play if it rains?"

"Good idea." Bernie smiled at her. "I married a woman who is both beautiful and smart. We'll check it out."

~ * ~

Bernie pushed open the door to the general store and stepped inside, pausing to fill his lungs with the remembered smells of ripe cheese, pickles, cured meats, leather, and tobacco smoke that had permeated the building's walls since the store opened over a hundred years before. 

Even the old pot-bellied stove remained in one corner, flanked by several wooden chairs that once invited pioneers to sit a spell and swap stories. 

However, shelves once crowded with treasures that fascinated Bernie as a boy now held only a few sparse items.

"Well, Bernie O'Shea. I heard you were back in town." A white-haired old man with a curved back limped slowly toward him with the assistance of a knobby cane.

"Mr. Haroldson." Bernie walked across the plank flooring and stretched out his hand in greeting. "I need a few things to build a house on my grandparents' place."

"So it's true?"

"Yessir."

"Took you long enough to come back, boy."

"I have a wife and two boys now. We plan to make our home here."

A slow smile curved the older man's mouth. "The hell you say."

"Think you could order some lumber, nails and roofing for the house?"

"Might need some plumbing supplies and paint too."

"That we might. I can give you the cash up front."

The old man grinned and clapped Bernie on the shoulder. "Welcome home, boy. Welcome home." 

~ * ~

A satisfied feeling settled in Bernie's gut as he drove back to his grandparents' property. The feeling lasted until he topped the rise of land from where he could see the site of their future home—and a police car parked in the driveway. 

Bernie pulled his shotgun out of its rack as he drove the pickup around the cruiser. He stopped beside Tallie and the boys, opening the door so it shielded her. When he stepped out of the pickup, the shotgun was pointed at Randall Weston's chest. "You're trespassing, Weston."

The chief of police eased back toward his cruiser. "Just checking out a report of squatters at your grandparents' property."

"My property. My wife. My kids. Get off and don't come back."

"Well, that's not very neighborly—"

The metallic ka-ching of Bernie cocking a shell into the barrel had Weston back-stepping quickly. He slid behind the wheel of the police cruiser and sped away.

#TheTalisman #HistoricalRomance

The Talisman by Christine Young

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level:

Buy at Amazon

Blurb: The Talisman

The Talisman

Running from a marriage that lasted one night, Dr. Moriah McKeown discovers the land she has settled on is coveted by determined and lawless men. Yet the proud young woman who once vowed never to abandon her home has second thoughts when her adopted children are threatened. Her only recourse is to enlist the aid of a dark, dangerous gun for hire. 

Haunted by the past and a betrayal he will never forgive, Ian Civanovich uses his fast gun and his reckless courage to forget the faithlessness of a woman in his past. He will trust no female--nor will he rest until the threat hovering over Moriah McKeown is put to rest.

This is a wonderful tale, full of action, emotion and a bit mystical at times. Enjoy this one.

Maura
Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance & More 4 Cups

EXCERPT: The Talisman

Buffalo Creek, 

South Dakota 

1895

Hot, dry air scorched the prairie grass. Sweat slid along his spine. Danger clung to every whisper; seemed to swirl and grow with each passing second. Ivan Civanovich watched the woman below. With deadly purpose, he studied the lady who had hired him--the woman who had bought his gun and perhaps death.

"Reckless courage," Ivan mused. 

"Si Senor, she does have what you call a great courage, but I don’t know about the reckless part. She is always so very careful," Pedro said. 

"I’m a dangerous man, Pedro." 

"This is why she hired you."

"The lady has no business hiring men like me. She’s a woman. She is supposed to nurture lives."

"She needs you to keep the bad men from taking the land away--our home," Pedro said.

Ivan pushed the tip of his hat back from his brows. From his vantage point, he considered the woman while she hung the freshly laundered white sheets on the line. A strange shudder swept through him, his muscles tensing with the sudden feeling he knew this woman, had known her forever. The sensations were too strong, the feelings too acute, and it troubled him because knowing her was impossible.

Her hair, a wild mop of red curls, battled with the stiff, hot wind rising off the prairie. The breeze and her hair flowed in undulating currents between the lines, threatening to tangle themselves in the wire. She bent over at the waist, giving him a perfect view of her backside while she toyed with something on the ground. Seconds later she picked up the object of her curiosity, turned it over in her hands then tossed it aside.

He didn’t like to think about what could happen to her in the next few weeks. She’d advertised for a gun for a hire. She didn’t know what she bargained for, and he’d bet his inheritance she didn’t have any idea what kind of trouble she’d purchased. 

When she looked up the hill, his grin widened. She couldn’t see him, but her shoulders tensed and she sucked air. Her hand touched her forehead, shielding her eyes from the blinding sunlight. She scanned the horizon, turning a complete circle before she stopped.

"Good," he said, "she is cautious." 

"She knows someone is up here," Pedro announced. 

"She’s got more starch in her drawers and the stiffest backbone of any woman I’ve ever seen." Ivan whistled through his teeth, his eyes intent and focused upon the woman.

"Si." Pedro agreed. "She sure enough does but her heart is made of spun gold."

Ivan wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. Beads of sweat dripped down his back. His gaze swept across the barren landscape then followed the line of trees that bordered the creek. He lifted the glasses to his eyes and turned his attention to a spot about a mile north of her ranch. The railroad wanted easement rights. So why wouldn’t she sell to them. "Spun gold, huh." He dropped the binoculars, letting them dangle from their strap around his neck.

"Si, boss."

"I see." Ivan leaned forward, resting his forearm on the saddle horn.

Ivan wasn’t sure he understood. Women had a lot of fine qualities, many of which he didn’t want to live without but a soft, feminine heart shouldn’t be deciding life and death matters. 

Spun gold.No, he’d never met a female with a heart of gold, spun or otherwise. He’d never known a woman who wouldn’t betray a man for a piece of gold. Save one, he amended, and his best friend had married her. Alexi Popov had his trials too. He had kidnapped Angela and spirited her away to his home in the Crimea. In the end though, he gave up his title, his land, and most of his wealth for Angela. He followed her back to America and married her.

This is a wonderful tale, full of action, emotion and a bit mystical at times. Enjoy this one.

Maura
Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance & More 4 Cups

#TheGift #HistoricalRomance

The Gift

Christine Young

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 1

Buy at Amazon:  

BLURB: The Gift

A man and a woman on opposite sides of the Civil War get a second chance at love after one final battle returns soldiers to their war-torn homes to rebuild their lives.

REVIEW: The Gift

This story is straight from the heart. Told in a passive voice and as a first person account through Elice and Micha's eyes. Their thoughts tug your heartstings. Their memory of their past life, the war and of course the present. They never fell out of love but exhuming those feelings hurt. They also had to face the consequences of their actions when an unexpected visitor arrived in their plantation home. Elice and Micha found out that in war, there is something worst than death and it is cowardice.

EXCERPT: The Gift

He listened to the soft sound of slippered feet at the door. Then a hesitant knock before he heard her enter the tiny room. He let his head rest on the back of the tub, planning the next steps to winning over Elice Weld.

"I have bath sheets for you." Her voice was unsure and Micha didn't like the vulnerability he heard. 

"Come in," he said. If you have the courage to confront the man you love.

The silence that followed unnerved him. He'd wanted so badly to pick up the pieces from where they'd left off five long years ago. He'd been a fool to think picking up the pieces would be remotely possible. A long campaign would only wear her down. The skirmishes would not make her love him, nor would it regain her trust in him.

The door creaked open. The creak was one of a long list of things to do to help Elice with the upkeep of her home. He'd already set his men repairing fences as well as the land for spring planting. He'd talked to them for a long time about the work, and the men he'd brought with him were all willing to help out before they traveled home. Some said it was a hell of a lot better than fighting.

"I'll put them on the shelves here. Don't let me bother you." She stared openly at him for a half-second before flushing crimson and turning her back on him. But she didn't leave the room.

Do you like what you see?he wanted to ask. "You would never bother me. You can stay," he told her. "Wash my back."

"When pigs fly." 

He grinned. That held shades of the woman he loved. "You don't have any," he said. "So that's hardly fair." 

Her shoulders stiffened and the steel rod in her spine couldn't get any straighter. He needed to find a way to bring back the woman he once knew without changing the indomitable courage that seemed to have become her calling card.

Buck naked he rose from the bath, water sluicing from his skin. He heard her slight gasp, and he wondered if he had just made a huge mistake. She'd seen him naked before. Inwardly, he sighed. One step backward and two steps forwards sometimes worked. He stepped from the tub. He wondered if the wounds on his body upset her. She didn't look upset just curious.

"Could you hand me a bath sheet," he asked nonchalantly.

Her beautiful azure eyes were huge. He watched her swallow then lift her chin a notch. She unfolded a sheet and walked to him, holding it out. He didn't mean to make this too easy for her. But he also didn't want to scare her away. He let her get within a few inches before taking the sheet from her. He wrapped it around his waist and grabbed another sheet from the counter where she'd set the rest of them. He towel dried his hair and chest then sat down on a chair near the tub.

"I'm ready anytime you are. Do you want to change your mind?"

"I'm not afraid of a Yankee soldier, if that's what you're asking," she said as she put the scissors and the razor on a table near the chair where he sat.

"Maybe you should be."

She ignored him. "Scoot the chair out so I can get around the back," she said, the tone in her voice told him her courage returned full force.

He obliged with a smile and a nod. At the moment, teasing her didn't seem like a great idea so he rested his hands in his lap and let her work her magic. When she ran her fingers through his hair, he closed his eyes and clenched his fists, wishing for things that couldn't be right now. Beneath his ribs his heart thundered as loud as stampeding horses. When she smoothed the soap across his jaw and upper lip, he hardened. When she moved in front of him, his legs spread wide to let her stand between them. He understood a need so great he'd do everything in his power to convince Elice Weld he deserved another chance.

He groaned.

She paused, the razor hovering near his upper lip. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"Just dandy," he said, wondering why he'd wanted to torture himself. One of his men could have done this.

Ah, but not as well as Elice and not with her breasts an inch away from his mouth, not with the scent of vanilla lingering and swirling around him, enticing every sense he possessed.

"Do you want me to take off the mustache?"

"Yes," he choked out. When he made love to her, he wanted to feel every soft and gentle touch of her finger tips.

Thinking about making love brought an unconscious reaction from him. Without giving it a second thought, he brought his hands to her hips. His fingers tightened, his thumbs and hands exploring while he still had the chance. 

Startled, the razor nicked his cheek. "That's probably not such a good idea," she whispered.

"What?" he asked, knowing full well of what she spoke.

"Touch me," she whispered raggedly.

"I thought you would never ask," he said smoothly but let his hands drop to lap once again.

#TellTaleTuesday #Banner'sBonus

Title: Banner's Bonus

Author: Carole Ann Lee

Email: carolescorner@aol.com

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 1

Buy atAmazon, Barnes & Noble:  

BLURB: Banner's Bonus

INNOCENCE MEETS HEDONISM:He’s a father’s worst nightmare.  Yet cargo pilot, Nick Banner, is Jonathan Loring’s onlyhope of getting his daughter, Tressa, safely off-planet and out of harm’s way. 

Within the tight confines of Banner’sship, Tressa battles a girlhoodcrush gone dangerous.  As a sheltered teen, she secretly worshipped the hotshot cargo pilot from afar. Even his carnal reputation seemed romantic. But, now, those old feelings are unsettling.

Banner misses nothing, particularly hercoy glances.  Yeah, he’s noticed, and sexual tension smolders. Danger stalks them across the galaxy and when Tressa is captured by pirates, Banner finds himself willing to sell his soul to free her.    

EXCERPT: Banner's Bonus

Without so much as turning to address her, Nick’s satin baritone calmly broke the silence. "It’s a damned good thing we don’t have any more days left on this run. With your lengthy showers everyday you’ve managed to put our more-than-sufficient water supply into the red."

"I have not been taking lengthy showers. For your information, I’ve been very conservative."

Nick smiled. "Yeah, well we’ve got a flashing indicator here that says differently."

Tressa cast a glance at the pulsing light on the console, then made her way to her seat. "I can assure you that’s not myfault."

"No of course it’s not. It’s TiMar’s." Reaching overhead, he flipped a series of switches and waited for a cluster of lights to turn green.

"It appears to me," Tressa said as she settled into her chair, "that once again your immaturity is at fault."

"Is that right." He continued monitoring the controls.

"Yes. Did you ever stop to think that the cause of the low water supply might be all those cold showers you keep taking?" The instant the words were out Tressa regretted them.

His head came around with a slow grin, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was about to be had for lunch.

"You think that’swhat I’ve been doing in there?"

With heat scorching her cheeks, Tressa looked away, refusing to respond. 

Taking a cold shower is probably the least of your busy little activities behind a closed door. A silent voice added.

"Tressa? I asked if that’s what you--"

"I really don’t care what you do, Banner." Glancing down, she feigned sudden interest in her fingernails.

"Ah, but you’ve wondered, haven’t you?"

She ignored him.

There’s nothing to wonder about, flyboy.

"Haven’t you, Tressa?" he taunted. "You had it all figured out."

She slid him a retiring look.

He grinned. "Besides, why the devil would I be taking cold showers?"

Refusing to rise to the bait, Tressa began examining one particular fingernail with avid interest. "I couldn’t care less why," she mumbled beneath her breath.

"What was that? You say something?"

Without looking up she replied, "The low water supply is just another classic example."

"Of what?"

"Your lack of self-control, of course."

Silence.

You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?

Tressa didn’t dare look at him. He was spoiling for a fight and she had just delivered the first punch.

And if you don’t stop, you’re going to find yourself out-gunned on a subject you’ll wish to stars you hadn’t opened.

"Ya wanna know what I was reallydoin’, Irish?"

Feigning boredom, she turned her sights to the small port window. "No thanks, Banner, you can keep the details to yourself."

"Allow me to satisfy your curiosity by enlightening you on several ways in which-"

"I’m not interested."

"But I’d be happy to educate you on some of the--"

"How much longer before we get there, do you think?" she asked, releasing a heavy sigh.

Satisfied and grinning, Nick turned back to the control panel. "Never challenge me, Irish--either directly or by insinuation--and particularly on a subject you know so precious little about." With a wink he added, "You’ll lose every time. I guarantee it."

Tressa didn’t respond, at last heeding the silent voice of reason.

5 Stars--Naomi of Fallen Angel Reviews

Banner's Bonustotally blew me away! I absolutely loved every page.

Linnea Sinclair--Award Winning Science Fiction Romance Author  

What a wild ride! Futuristic romance fans will love the passion and adventure in Lee's Banner's Bonus. Nick Banner can swagger through the stars with the best of them! 

#MysteryMonday #BannersBonus

Title: Banner's Bonus

Author: Carole Ann Lee

Email: carolescorner@aol.com

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 1

Buy atAmazon, Barnes & Noble:  

BLURB: Banner's Bonus

INNOCENCE MEETS HEDONISM:He’s a father’s worst nightmare.  Yet cargo pilot, Nick Banner, is Jonathan Loring’s onlyhope of getting his daughter, Tressa, safely off-planet and out of harm’s way. 

Within the tight confines of Banner’sship, Tressa battles a girlhoodcrush gone dangerous.  As a sheltered teen, she secretly worshipped the hotshot cargo pilot from afar. Even his carnal reputation seemed romantic. But, now, those old feelings are unsettling.

Banner misses nothing, particularly hercoy glances.  Yeah, he’s noticed, and sexual tension smolders. Danger stalks them across the galaxy and when Tressa is captured by pirates, Banner finds himself willing to sell his soul to free her.    

EXCERPT: Banner's Bonus

Without so much as turning to address her, Nick’s satin baritone calmly broke the silence. "It’s a damned good thing we don’t have any more days left on this run. With your lengthy showers everyday you’ve managed to put our more-than-sufficient water supply into the red."

"I have not been taking lengthy showers. For your information, I’ve been very conservative."

Nick smiled. "Yeah, well we’ve got a flashing indicator here that says differently."

Tressa cast a glance at the pulsing light on the console, then made her way to her seat. "I can assure you that’s not myfault."

"No of course it’s not. It’s TiMar’s." Reaching overhead, he flipped a series of switches and waited for a cluster of lights to turn green.

"It appears to me," Tressa said as she settled into her chair, "that once again your immaturity is at fault."

"Is that right." He continued monitoring the controls.

"Yes. Did you ever stop to think that the cause of the low water supply might be all those cold showers you keep taking?" The instant the words were out Tressa regretted them.

His head came around with a slow grin, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was about to be had for lunch.

"You think that’swhat I’ve been doing in there?"

With heat scorching her cheeks, Tressa looked away, refusing to respond. 

Taking a cold shower is probably the least of your busy little activities behind a closed door. A silent voice added.

"Tressa? I asked if that’s what you--"

"I really don’t care what you do, Banner." Glancing down, she feigned sudden interest in her fingernails.

"Ah, but you’ve wondered, haven’t you?"

She ignored him.

There’s nothing to wonder about, flyboy.

"Haven’t you, Tressa?" he taunted. "You had it all figured out."

She slid him a retiring look.

He grinned. "Besides, why the devil would I be taking cold showers?"

Refusing to rise to the bait, Tressa began examining one particular fingernail with avid interest. "I couldn’t care less why," she mumbled beneath her breath.

"What was that? You say something?"

Without looking up she replied, "The low water supply is just another classic example."

"Of what?"

"Your lack of self-control, of course."

Silence.

You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?

Tressa didn’t dare look at him. He was spoiling for a fight and she had just delivered the first punch.

And if you don’t stop, you’re going to find yourself out-gunned on a subject you’ll wish to stars you hadn’t opened.

"Ya wanna know what I was reallydoin’, Irish?"

Feigning boredom, she turned her sights to the small port window. "No thanks, Banner, you can keep the details to yourself."

"Allow me to satisfy your curiosity by enlightening you on several ways in which-"

"I’m not interested."

"But I’d be happy to educate you on some of the--"

"How much longer before we get there, do you think?" she asked, releasing a heavy sigh.

Satisfied and grinning, Nick turned back to the control panel. "Never challenge me, Irish--either directly or by insinuation--and particularly on a subject you know so precious little about." With a wink he added, "You’ll lose every time. I guarantee it."

Tressa didn’t respond, at last heeding the silent voice of reason.

5 Stars--Naomi of Fallen Angel Reviews

Banner's Bonustotally blew me away! I absolutely loved every page.

Linnea Sinclair--Award Winning Science Fiction Romance Author  

What a wild ride! Futuristic romance fans will love the passion and adventure in Lee's Banner's Bonus. Nick Banner can swagger through the stars with the best of them! 

#RomanceSunday #Ariel'sLocket

Ariel's Locket by Chrsitine Young

Excerpt Heat Level: 1

Book Heat Level: 

Buy at Amazon

BLURB:: Ariel's Locket

Seeking revenge for crimes against his family, Misha Petrovich follows a path that leads straight to Ariel Cameron's boarding house in Mist Harbor, Oregon. A family heirloom in Ariel's possession leads Misha to believe she is guilty. The locket has been handed down to the oldest girl in the Petrovich family for generations. Ariel is innocent of wrong doing, but her father is not. Misha is torn by his feelings for Ariel and his need for restitution against her father. Knowing that the relationship between them is fragile, Misha does everything in his power to protect Ariel's father. His efforts are to no avail when her father is shot. Ariel comes to realize Misha's steadfast courage and determination to protect her and her father despite what has happened to his family. Ariel's love and devotion heals Misha's heart. 

The Legend: Ariel's Locket

The Crimea, 1294

Light mysteriously broke from the eastern horizon. The dark silhouette of a man on horseback stood in bold relief. In one hand he held a saber, in the other a rose. He held both objects aloft, his arms stiff while his battle cry filled the air, the sound stark and terrifying. 

The lone man remained on top of the hill but a moment and then, as if the delicate flower burned his hands, he threw the rose to the dry desert sands. When he turned his horse and rode away, the rose was trampled beneath the hooves of his stallion.

A breeze lifted the petals of the flower from the stem one at a time, leaving only the thorns behind. Clouds rolled in, thunder demanding its place next to the sheets of lightning that suddenly controlled the dawn.

EXCERPT: Ariel's Locket

Oregon Coast,1894

Bone-weary from a hard day at sea, Misha trudged up the long mud-rutted road to the boarding house that sat on top a hill less than a mile outside Mist Harbor, Oregon. A thick, cold mist hovered close to the ground wetting everything: the rhododendrons that grew wild, the azaleas that lined the cement walkway to the front porch, and the saw grass that grew easily in the sandy soil. Misha paused a moment to push back a lock of hair that repeatedly fell across his brow and into his eyes.

The land was windswept and salt battered, yet he enjoyed the salt-taste of the air and the swooping sea birds as well as the playful sea animals. He loved the way the trees bent to the power of the wind and found a way to survive despite the brutality of the elements. 

His purpose here was short lived, he reminded himself. He didn’t intend to find himself attached to these parts in any way. 

He smelled of a hard days work. The lingering aroma of sweat and Chinook salmon filled his nostrils. It was not a scent he had any use for, but for the time being the job on the fishing boat gave him a reason for staying in the small coastal town. Right now he couldn’t wait to submerse himself in a hot bath, wash the stench from his body, and ease his stiff, strained muscles. 

The sea had always been one of his favorite places. But fishing?

By God no, he’d just as soon relax and watch the sails billow on a clipper as the majestic ship rounded the horn or stand at the tiller with the wind whistling around him. He’d even rather battle a hurricane off the Bermudas. 

Blending in with the people who lived in this small coastal village had been imperative.

The quest he’d undertaken had led him straight to Miss Ariel Cameron’s boarding house in Mist Harbor, and there the trail stopped. Thinking about Ariel set his nerves on edge. 

Ariel was willow thin, femininely delicate, and hardly capable of the atrocities he’d set out to avenge less than a year ago. Yet the evidence he’d uncovered had sent him here, to her home. The name he’d followed had been her name. The men he’d followed had landed in Mist Harbor more than once, her father one of them. 

He walked up the immaculately kept steps to the house and opened the door to the screened in porch.

"Misha," the captain boomed out a welcome. "Fine weather we’re havin’ now. Just right for the salmon runs."

The rocker squeaked as the captain moved back and forth in the wicker chair.

"Just right," Misha acknowledged and stepped through the next door to the parlor. A blast of heat met him as he nodded his head in polite recognition to the other borders. In a pale blue day dress, Ariel moved with a slight limp through the hallway and disappeared into one of the first floor rooms. Even though she seemed to favor one leg, the sway of her hips enticed all of Misha's senses. 

He didn’t understand the feeling but in a way no other woman had touched him, she beckoned to him. Her amber colored eyes were wide and when she smiled, they glistened and shimmered, reminding him of the bronze mosques in Constantinople when the sun beat upon them. Miss Ariel Cameron was unique--unconventional--and she fascinated him. She was the key to his revenge as well as his salvation.

The Locket is a very exciting tale with a dramatic setting. Overall, this is a very entertaining story.

Maura
Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance