Sara Daniel Romance Author

Monday, October 24, 2016

It's Pumpkin Season! Carve them. Then make #soup! @DominiEastwick #recipe

by Dominique Eastwick

One of the many reasons I just love about fall are pumpkins. I love to carve them, look at them, and eat them.

I love pumpkin muffins, pumpkin pancakes, pumpkin bread, pumpkin ice cream, pumpkin pie, pumpkin spice Latte…I could go on and on. But one of my favorite things is Pumpkin Soup. So celebrate this spooky day with a bowl of the easiest soup ever, especially if you use canned pumpkin. And you can quote me on this - nothing tastes better on a cold day.

Pumpkin Soup
1 stick butter or margarine
2 clove garlic, finely chopped
4 tsp. packed brown sugar
2 cans of chicken broth
1 cup water
½ tsp. salt (optional)
2 cans (15 ounces) Pumpkin or 2 cups pureed fresh pumpkin
2 cans (12 fluid ounces) evaporated milk
½ tsp. ground cinnamon
Ground nutmeg to garnish

Melt butter in large saucepan. Add garlic and brown sugar; cook for 1 to 2 minutes or until soft.

Add broth and water; bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. Cook on low, stirring occasionally, for 15 minutes.

Stir in pumpkin, evaporated milk, and cinnamon. Cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

With real pumpkin you may need to puree your soup again.

Serve warm and enjoy.

serves 10

How about a hot read while you enjoy a warm bowl of soup?

The babies are coming… the Wiccan Haus will never be the same.

Things are not as calm at the Wiccan Haus as they usually are. The impending birth of Dana and Rekkus’ cubs has everyone on edge. The last thing anyone wants or expects is a series of uninvited guests.

Ashlynn Stone hasn’t spoken to her sister Dana since she left for the Wiccan Haus over a year earlier. But when a fluke accident on the fashion runway forces her to seek the healing of the Wiccan Haus, she has no choice but to pack her bags and take the ferry to the island with her family in tow.

Shadedor has been sent to the Wiccan Haus to assess the situation. But he soon finds more than he expected. His soul mate in need of healing. Can he negotiate the issues of the Wiccan Haus and overcome the walls Ashlynn has built to protect herself.

As the Haus prepares for the biggest event since it opened, can the siblings find harmony and manage to do what they do best, heal those in need? Or is it too much for them to take?

Welcome back to the Wiccan Haus.

He walked. This morning, he had been right next to her, and there had been constant contact. Now they would appear to anyone passing to be complete strangers. “You want to tell me what is going on?”

“We are attempting to remove all stress from your life in hopes of easing the headaches.”

“No, with you. If you would prefer to be elsewhere, I can go back to my room and lie down.”

He stopped. “There is nowhere I would rather be.”

“Then why are you acting like I have the plague? Was it the kiss earlier?”

“I overstepped my boundaries this morning. I should not have done so.”

“Do you regret it?”

“I am assisting the staff here in your healing. It is inappropriate for me to come on to you.”

“Are you on staff here?”


“That settles it.” She smiled. Closing the distance between them, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I do not know what is going on, but I do know my pain and fears ease when you are near. I don’t claim to understand how you discern all you do, but I am starting to see things here aren’t always black and white, and sometimes I have to have faith and trust.”

After a brief second of him standing as still as a statue and her wondering if she read too much into this morning’s embrace, he relaxed. His arms snaked around her, pulling her against his hard body. His mouth came down on hers begging her to open for him, demanding she submit to his kiss. She might have started this dance, but he would damned well be leading it.

Amazon - Decadent Publishing

Award-Winning author Dominique Eastwick currently calls North Carolina home with her husband, two children, one crazy lab and one lazy cat. Dominique spent much of her early life moving from state to state as a Navy Brat. Because of that, traveling is one of her favorite pasttimes. When not writing you can find Dominique with her second love…her camera.

Learn more about Dominique Eastwick on her website, blog, and Amazon author page. Be sure to join her Newsletter for up to the minute info on new releases, contests, and more.

Stay connected on Twitter, Tublr, Tsu, and Pinterest.

Thursday, October 20, 2016

Sneak in one more picnic this fall #romance #picnics

Picnic Power
Guest Post by Eris Field

Picnics have long been known to have the power to move wooing to marriage. Wooing or courting is different from dating. It is the process by which one person, having decided that he/she has found an acceptable life partner, convinces the other person that they should forsake all others and move forward toward marriage.

In the past, a certain hierarchy of enticements was used by a gentleman wooing a lady. Love letters written in perfect penmanship on personal stationery was often the opening salvo. Unlike email or text messages, letters could be stroked, sniffed, hidden in bodices, tucked under pillows, and read repeatedly by candlelight.

Photo by John Kasawa
Candy and flowers followed. Boxes of candy—carefully selected candies nestled in elaborately decorated boxes were delivered to the lady with a brief message written on a card. The language of flowers was carefully studied so that the right message would be conveyed by the bouquet.

While letters, candy, and flowers were effective, they took time. A gentleman determined to marry, and soon, pulled out the heavy artillery—the picnic. Picnics have two elements—seeming innocence and surprise. The gentleman would not disclose the destination or the contents of the picnic basket. Please note it was a basket not a cooler, Styrofoam chest, backpack, or plastic bag from the deli. The gentleman carried a blanket over one arm that had the purpose of keeping grass stains off the lady’s dress and the picnic basket over the other arm.

Contents of the basket included the essentials: a bottle or two of wine, two glasses, napkins, and delicious food that was usually not encountered at regular meals and so had a slightly forbidden quality. Tempting items included: crisp bread or rolls, cheeses (Brie, Gruyere, Provolone or Jarlsberg), thinly sliced smoked turkey, cold fried chicken, prosciutto, Lebanon salami, hard boiled eggs, olives, nuts, and fruits. The basket always held the lady’s favorite dessert.

Picnic settings, with careful planning, were private and, with the blanket, fairly comfortable. The wine was crisp and the food delicious. In fact, over time it was found that a properly planned picnic had a fairly strong correlation with marriage.

In my contemporary novel, The Gift of Love, psychiatrist Andrew, in a hurry to convince Laurel to marry him, finds himself using his elderly Aunt’s courting instructions, including the picnic.

Laurel, a slightly impulsive pediatric nurse who spent her early years in foster care, dreams of having a family of her own—six children, no men in the dream. Laurel doesn’t just dream, she has a plan—stop her stepsister’s compulsive hoarding, clear out the mountains of paper engulfing every room, and sell the old house that is pushing her toward bankruptcy. As a last resort, she raids her retirement fund to go to a conference on the newest treatments for compulsive hoarding.

Andrew, a psychiatrist, is never impulsive. A reticent, somewhat austere man, he limits his interactions with people to his work. About to leave for the conference where he has agreed to fill in for a colleague, he suddenly finds himself the reluctant caretaker of a two and a half year old boy.

When they first meet, a series of unfortunate events cause Laure to view Andrew as arrogant, rude, but disturbingly attractive, while Andrew to view Laurel as a dangerous distraction to be avoided. Faced with a crisis, they are forced work together, but will they be able to put aside their protective armor and trust each other enough to let love in?

Amazon Buy Link

Eris Field was born in the Green Mountains of Vermont—Jericho, Vermont to be precise—close by the home of Wilson Bentley (aka Snowflake Bentley), the first person in the world to photograph snowflakes. She learned from her Vermont neighbors that pursuit of one’s dream is a worthwhile life goal.

As a seventeen year old student nurse at Albany Hospital, Eris met a Turkish surgical intern who told her fascinating stories about the history of Turkey, the loss of the Ottoman Empire, and forced population exchanges. After they married and moved to Buffalo, Eris worked as a nurse at Children’s Hospital and at Roswell Park Cancer Institute.

After taking time off to raise five children and amassing rejection letters for her short stories, Eris earned her master’s degree in Psychiatric Nursing at the University at Buffalo. Later, she taught psychiatric nursing at the University and wrote a textbook for psychiatric nurse practitioners—a wonderful rewarding but never to be repeated experience.

Eris now writes novels, usually international, contemporary romances. Her interest in history and her experience in psychiatry often play a part in her stories. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America and the Western New York Romance Writers. In addition to writing, Eris’s interests include: Prevention of Psychiatric Disorders; Eradicating Honor Killings, supporting the Crossroads Springs Orphanage in Kenya for children orphaned by AIDS, and learning more about Turkey, Cyprus, and Kurdistan.

Learn more about Eris Field on her website. Stay connected on Facebook.

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

The Last Timekeepers & the Dark Secret #exclusive #excerpt @sharonledwith @Saphs_Books @MirrorWorldPub

Only a true hero can shine the light in humanity’s darkest time.

Book Details:

Title: The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret

Series:  The Last Timekeepers, Book 2

Author Name: Sharon Ledwith

Genre(s): Middle Grade, Young Adult, Science Fiction, Fantasy, WWII

Release Date: October 17, 2016

Publisher:  Mirror World Publishing

Exclusive Excerpt:

Jordan Jensen stared at the hurdles lined-up before him. He checked his wristwatch. 8:15. Good. Got time to do another lap, then head for the showers and get to class. He inhaled, shook out his legs and arms, and proceeded to stretch. He allowed the late September air to cool him down, before he took his mark on White Pines High School’s track. There he spied an enormous acorn, the size of a ping pong ball, in front of him. Strangely, Jordan felt drawn to it as if the acorn allowed him a glimpse of the blueprint of an oak tree, with its deep roots, strong branches, and large leaves.

He frowned, thinking back to the day that changed everything. The day when Jordan and his classmates, Amanda, Treena, Ravi, and Drake, were chosen to become Timekeepers—legendary time travelers sworn to keep Earth’s history safe. Drafted along with them were Melody—a recent transplant from England and now their motherly influence—and his Uncle John.

Jordan sighed. Now it seemed like a blurry dream to him, remembering how Ravi had plowed into the time portal in Melody’s backyard. All they were supposed to be doing was serving out their detention doing yard work for her. Instead, the seven of them had been suddenly sucked through that arch and into another dimension where Lilith had acknowledged them as the ‘Last Timekeepers’. Jordan bit his bottom lip. It was tough enough keeping all his sports’ schedules straight and getting his homework assignments done, let alone being a Timekeeper. His shoulders sagged, feeling the added pressure of being responsible for the world’s future.

Laughter from across the field infiltrated his thoughts. Jordan glanced up to see a group of boys tossing a football back and forth. On the scoreboard above a new set of bleachers sat a turkey vulture, perusing the green. It spread its wings, stretching them to welcome the sun, and then took off into the sky toward the line of tall trees.Jordan turned his attention back to the acorn. It’s still hard to believe time travel is even possible. He plucked up the acorn and stood. He let it roll around on his palm. “Guess you can’t imagine being a mighty oak a hundred years from now, can you?”

Jordan grunted. He was wasting too much time with trivial thoughts. He tossed the acorn aside, set his jaw, and then squatted between the white lines on the green track. A large, light blue stone on the end of a copper-colored necklace around Jordan's neck rolled out from under his T-shirt and clipped him under his chin, reminding him once again of his responsibilities as a Timekeeper.  His necklace was the same as those worn by the rest of the Timekeepers. Lilith called them Babel necklaces. They allowed the wearer to communicate in any language and also conveniently let Lilith summon the Timekeepers to the Arch of Atlantis when she needed them for a mission.

Jordan stuffed his Babel back underneath his shirt. He looked forward and cleared his mind. Immediately, Coach clicked on in his head. You have what it takes inside of you to remove any barriers that will confront you.

Jordan nodded. The voice he had dubbed Coach had always been a part of him, and there for him, ever since he could remember. In a way, Coach was his form of discipline, personal trainer and mentor wrapped into one. It was probably also the reason he was so awesome at sports. Jordan  listened and focused before making his play.

About The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret:

Fourteen year-old Jordan Jensen always considered himself a team player on and off the field, until the second Timekeeper mission lands him in Amsterdam during World War Two. Pulled into the world of espionage, torture, and intolerance, Jordan and the rest of the Timekeepers have no choice but to stay one step ahead of the Nazis in order to find and protect a mysterious book.

With the help of the Dutch Resistance, an eccentric baron, Nordic runes, and an ancient volume originating from Atlantis, Jordan must learn that it takes true teamwork, trust, and sacrifice to keep time safe from the evils of fascism. Can Jordan find the hero within to conquer the darkness surrounding the Timekeepers? If he doesn’t, then the terrible truth of what the Nazis did will never see the light of day.

Read an Excerpt:

“I wonder what else is down here.” Drake beamed his cell phone across the basement, hitting jars of jams, pickles, and relishes. His stomach growled.

Jordan pulled the cheese from his pocket and handed it to Drake. “Trade you for your phone.”

“Best. Trade. Ever.” Drake passed his phone to Jordan.

Jordan walked over and grabbed a jar of pickles off the dusty shelf. At least they wouldn’t arrive at the baron’s place hungry. He hoped his uncle had managed to stop Amanda’s bleeding. His hand tightened over the jar, the ridges of the lid cutting into his palm. A scrape from behind the shelves made Jordan jump.

“Hello?” he asked, pushing jars aside. He flashed the cell phone into the small, dark area.

“Who ya talking to, Jordan?” Drake asked with his mouth full of cheese.

“Shhh, Drake.” Jordan listened. Hearing nothing, he shrugged and turned back around.

“I thought I heard—” Jordan stopped and pointed the phone at Ravi. His jaw dropped. “A-Are you serious, Sharma?”

Drake spat out his cheese, snorting with laughter.

“Is there a problem?” Ravi asked, tying the bowtie of his tuxedo.

“You look like a penguin with attitude!” Drake slapped his knee.

“Say what you want, but I’m glad we didn’t hit the cleaners on the way to school now,” Ravi replied, pulling down his sleeves, “or else I wouldn’t have these dry clothes.”

Jordan chuckled. Suddenly, he heard a door creak open, followed by heavy footsteps squeaking down the stairs. Panicking, Jordan stuffed Drake’s phone in his track suit jacket’s pocket and waved Drake over by the shelves. Drake slipped behind Jordan just in time, before the small light bulb above the bottom of the stairs clicked on. Jordan swallowed hard. There, staring directly at Ravi was a portly man in a blood-stained apron. Tufts of blond hair sprouted from the sides of his balding head. His brown trousers were pulled up past his waist, making him resemble an evil garden gnome. In one of his hands, he held a huge butcher knife, its blade flecked with blood.

Wielding the knife, the man pointed at Ravi. “Who are you?”

Ravi licked his thick lips nervously. “The name’s Bond. James Bond.”

Purchase Links:

Mirror World Publishing: 



Barnes & Noble: 

Meet the Author:

Escape to the past and have a blast.

Sharon Ledwith is the author of the middle-grade/young adult time travel series, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS, and is represented by Walden House (Books & Stuff) for her teen psychic series, MYSTERIOUS TALES FROM FAIRY FALLS. When not writing, researching, or revising, she enjoys reading, exercising, anything arcane, and an occasional dram of scotch. Sharon lives a serene, yet busy life in a southern tourist region of Ontario, Canada, with her hubby, one spoiled yellow Labrador and a moody calico cat.

Learn more about Sharon Ledwith on her WEBSITE and BLOG. Look up her AMAZON AUTHOR page for a list of current books. Stay connected on FACEBOOK, TWITTER, GOOGLE+, and GOODREADS. Check out THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS TIME TRAVEL SERIES Facebook page.

Connect with Sharon Ledwith:

Sharon’s Website:

Sharon’s Facebook Page:!/seledwith

Twitter: @sharonledwith:

Amazon Author U.K. Page:

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Saturday, October 15, 2016

#MySexySaturday She said what? #badboy #smalltownromance

“Fondle me, you bastard. Make it good.”

These 7 My Sexy Saturday words were certainly a surprise to me when they spilled from my heroine's lips in my latest release! Did he do? You'll have to see for yourself.

He’s supposed to be the town hero. He’s not!

Haunted by comrades he was unable to save, Drake Miller walks away from his military career for the relaxed, quiet life of running his father’s bar in Regret Hollow. Too bad no one tipped him off that his father sold the bar.

While the townspeople treat him to a hero’s welcome that he doesn’t want and doesn’t deserve, he finds one person who doesn’t fall at his feet, calls him out for bad behavior, and kisses like a fantasy. Unfortunately, she also owns the bar that was supposed to be his.

As a single mom and small business owner, Mallory Marquette takes her commitments and responsibilities seriously. She can’t give away her livelihood just because Drake thinks he’s entitled to it—even if he is the town hero and the first man in a decade who gets her blood flowing. Besides, she needs a reliable bartender much more than she needs a lover.

Can this hero turned bad boy step up to a lifetime commitment, or will the freedom he sacrificed so much for cost him everything?

Buy links:

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Meet Regret Hollow's Newest Bad Boy! #badboyromance #smalltownromance #newrelease

He’s supposed to be the town hero. He’s not!

Haunted by comrades he was unable to save, Drake Miller walks away from his military career for the relaxed, quiet life of running his father’s bar in Regret Hollow. Too bad no one tipped him off that his father sold the bar.

While the townspeople treat him to a hero’s welcome that he doesn’t want and doesn’t deserve, he finds one person who doesn’t fall at his feet, calls him out for bad behavior, and kisses like a fantasy. Unfortunately, she also owns the bar that was supposed to be his.

As a single mom and small business owner, Mallory Marquette takes her commitments and responsibilities seriously. She can’t give away her livelihood just because Drake thinks he’s entitled to it—even if he is the town hero and the first man in a decade who gets her blood flowing. Besides, she needs a reliable bartender much more than she needs a lover.

Can this hero turned bad boy step up to a lifetime commitment, or will the freedom he sacrificed so much for cost him everything?

“Wait a second.” He held up a hand. “I know you. You’re the stuck-up high school princess who was too good to give me the time of day. Mallory Yates.” His lips curled into a sneer.

In what universe did a pizzeria waitress have anything in common with a princess? Whatever. She couldn’t reason with guys like him. She didn’t bother to correct him on her name, either. If not for Ryan, she’d have returned to the Yates surname after her divorce. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and neither do you, but thanks for showing me you’re still the same insensitive jerk you’ve always been.”

He laughed. “You’re ever so welcome, princess. Now are you going to spray me with that pepper spray or just intimidate me by waving it around?”

She glanced down at the tiny bottle in her fist. If the rumors about his capabilities were true, he could disarm her in the blink of an eye. Regardless, he sure wasn’t the least bit intimidated.

“Neither.” She shoved the canister in her back pocket and advanced on him. “I want you to think next time before you do something stupid.” She shoved his chest, which proved as solid and unmoving as a brick wall.

He grasped her hands before she could withdraw them, trapping them against his heat. His eyes glittered in the growing darkness. 

“Sometimes thinking is overrated. I like to do and deal with the consequences later.” He lowered his head toward her.

No way. He wouldn’t. He had as much disdain for her as she had for him. She glared at him, refusing to call his bluff and pull away.

His lips pressed against hers, hard and demanding. He plunged his tongue into her mouth. She gasped as fire raced through her veins. Clenching her fingers around the fabric of his T-shirt, she met the demands of his mouth.

She refused to be intimidated just because he was sexier than sin and could kiss a hell of a lot better than anyone in recent memory or, um, in ever. Oh God, she couldn’t remember anyone else. She couldn’t even remember her own name.

A moan tore from her throat. She bit down on his lip then thrust her tongue, tangling it with his.

He bracketed her ribs, sliding beneath her jacket and the hem of her shirt then over her waist and up, cupping her breast.

Holy hell. Who knew being groped could feel so good? With one touch, she nearly believed she could leave behind stress and responsibility and reclaim her femininity. “Fondle me, you bastard, and make it good.”

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Monday, October 10, 2016

Down-home Fried Chicken with author and kitchen goddess @sloanetaylor2 #recipe #menu

October is down-home cooking time with author and kitchen goddess Sloane Taylor. So tie on your aprons and let’s get to it!

Sloane’s Down-home Fried Chicken
Mashed Potatoes
Fresh Green Beans

Sloane’s Down-home Fried Chicken
1 tbsp. salt
Tap water
6 chicken legs, or thighs or 4 breasts, skinless and boneless
1 cup flour
1tsp. thyme
½ tsp. marjoram
Freshly ground pepper to taste
1 large egg
1½ tbsp. milk
½ cup solid shortening or lard, plus more as needed

Dissolve salt in a small amount of water. Add chicken pieces then cover with more water. Set this in the refrigerator for 4-8 hours.

Remove chicken from fridge 2 hours before you plan to cook. When you’re ready, drain the chicken and pat dry.

Combine flour and seasonings in a paper or plastic bag. Shake gently to combine ingredients. Mix egg and milk in a bowl. Set a clean plate or platter on the counter to hold the breaded chicken in one layer.

Place one chicken piece at a time in the bag, shake gently to thoroughly coat, then dip in egg mixture, then return the piece to the bag and gently shake again. Set chicken on the plate. Repeat the process until all pieces are coated. Set the uncovered plate in the fridge for at least 30 minutes.

Heat the shortening in a large frying pan over medium-high heat. Test to be sure shortening is hot enough by adding a small piece of bread. It should sizzle and toast quickly.

Carefully add the chicken pieces. Maintain the temperature, but adjust it so chicken doesn’t burn and grease doesn’t splatter everywhere.

Turning frequently, brown the chicken on all sides. Cover and cook 20-25 minutes or until juices run clear when pierced with a sharp knife.

Lay pieces on a plate lined with paper towels to absorb any oil. Transfer them to a clean platter and serve.

Mashed Potatoes
1 small russet potato per person
Chicken stock
Sour cream
Parsley, snipped or chopped for garnish

Pour one inch chicken stock into saucepan. Peel and quarter the potatoes, then place in saucepan. Add tap water to cover by one inch. Put a lid on the pan and bring to a boil over medium heat. Lower temperature to a strong simmer. Cook approximately 20 - 25 minutes. They are done when a fork inserts easily into a potato.

Drain potatoes. Stir in butter, sour cream, and pepper. Mash well. Drizzle in the milk. Mash and continue to add milk until you achieve the consistency you prefer.

Fresh Green Beans
Photo by SOMMAI
1 lb. fresh green beans, trimmed but left whole
3 tbsp. butter
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Bring large pot of water to a hard boil. A high heat setting is best.

Drop the beans in by the handful. Boil 10 to 15 minutes or until the beans are just tender. If you plan to reheat the beans, boil for less time as the reheating will cook them further.

Drain beans in a colander. Add butter to the hot pot and swirl to melt. Return beans to the pot. Toss with butter and coat well. Season with pepper and stir again.

The beans may be made earlier and reheated on low heat. Be careful not to scorch them or burn the butter.

Photo by khumthong
This meal screams for ice cold watermelon for dessert. Early in the day cut your melon into large chunks. This is a good time to get rid of the rind.

Place the melon into plastic bags, seal, and refrigerate until your dinner is settled.

You may want to make one of those bags Adults Only by lacing a few shots of vodka over the melon. Very tasty!

Award-winning author Sloane Taylor is a sensual woman who believes humor and and good food are healthy aspects of our everyday lives and carries that philosophy into her books. She writes romances that takes you right into the bedroom. Being a true romantic, all her stories have a happy ever after.

Her books are set in Europe where the men are all male and the North American women they encounter are both feminine and strong. They also bring more than lust to their men’s lives.

Taylor was born and raised on the Southside of Chicago. Studly, her mate for life, and Sloane now live in a small home in Indiana and enjoy the change from city life. She is also an avid cook.

Learn more about Sloane Taylor on her website . Check out her blog for more tasty recipes. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter.

Thursday, October 6, 2016

#newrelease Pirate Summer from HL Carpenter #YAlit

The creative genius of HL Carpenter shines in their latest book. Pirate Summer is the story of a sister and brother who discover the importance of each other and the consequences of lying. Enter the handsome privateer who steals Josey’s heart and commandeers her on the adventure of her life and you now have the perfect summer read for all ages.
Fifteen year old Josey is a liar. She’d like to stop. But after Mom left, the lies started popping out, like the time Josey left her little brother at the library and told Dad he’d run away.

Then Josey meets a boy who tells bigger whoppers than she does. He says he’s the son of a privateer who’s been dead two centuries. He’s so convincing Josey’s brother believes every word and sets off to find the privateer’s hidden treasure.

When her brother disappears, Josey is sure she knows where he's gone. But everyone thinks she's lying again. Everyone, that is, except the so-called privateer’s son. He knows she’s telling the truth because jeweled riches are only part of his tale. There’s also the snooperscope, a device that makes time leaps possible, like the one that brought him to the present.

The story is fantastical...and yet Josey will do anything to save her brother, including traveling back in time two hundred years with a boy she can’t trust.

The basic tale hadn’t changed since the first time I’d heard it, though Gran had added a few embellishments. I wondered who she’d been practicing on, then remembered she was on call as a substitute teacher for the Sea Cove school system. Thanks to her, generations of Sea Cove residents knew the legend of Alastair Morgan, a pirate who’d haunted the Florida coast during the early 1800s.

Andy jiggled on the seat. He had a vivid imagination, a by-product of his oversize I.Q., and he was caught up in the midst of the hurricane Gran was describing. The huge storm had blown the Morgan pirate ship off course and into Sea Cove.

“Alastair Morgan was familiar with Sea Cove,” Gran said. “He sought refuge in the harbor. When the skies lightened, the rain slowed. He rowed to shore with his son, some of his crew and seven trunks of gold and jewels. They had buried the treasure and were rowing back to their ship when the storm started again.”

“Didn’t he realize the calm was only the eye of the hurricane?” Andy asked.

“Good question, and no, he didn’t. He was surprised when the winds and rain picked up, only from the opposite direction.”

“Silly of him. He should have known. Being a sailor and all.”

Gran met my gaze over Andy’s head. Her lips twitched.

I grinned, forgetting for a moment how annoyed I was. By the time I remembered, Gran had looked away, out the front windshield.

She gasped. “Brake, Josey!”

I jerked my head around. I’d only been distracted for a second—exactly enough time for the truck to drift to the right side of the road. A skinny teenage boy walked there, his back to us.

“We’re going to hit him!” Andy shouted.

I leaned on the horn, smashed the brake, and yanked the wheel to the left. The tires screeched. The seatbelt dug into my hips. Andy shouted again as an invisible force shoved him back, then forward. Gran shot out her arm to hold him in place.

In front of us, the boy whirled. He yelled and raised his palms toward us as if he could ward off the truck with his bare hands. At the last moment, he flung himself onto the dirty sand beyond the edge of the black pavement.

I lost sight of him as the pickup jolted to a shuddering, shaking stop, sideways across the highway.

Amazon Buy Link

Florida-based mother/daughter author duo HL Carpenter write sweet, clean fiction that is suitable for everyone in your family. The Carpenters write from their studios in Carpenter Country, a magical place that, like their stories, is unreal but not untrue. When they’re not writing, they enjoy exploring the Land of What-If and practicing the fine art of Curiosity. Visit their website to enjoy gift reads and excerpts and to find out what’s happening in Carpenter Country.

Stay connected on Pinterest, Linkedin, Google+, and their Amazon Author Page.