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Friday, July 14, 2017

The Duchess and the Highwayman by Beverley Oakley

The Duchess and the Highwayman
By Beverley Oakley


Beverley is giving away a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate and an ebook The Mysterious Governess.to randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Please use the RaffleCopter below to enter. Remember you may increase your chances of winning by visiting the other tour stops. You may find those locations here

BLURB: 

A duchess disguised as a lady’s maid; a gentleman parading as a highwayman.
She’s on the run from a murderer, he’s in pursuit of one…

In a remote Norfolk manor, Phoebe, Lady Cavanaugh is wrongfully accused by her servants of her brutal husband’s murder.

There’s little sympathy in the district for the duchess who’s taken a lover and made clear she despised her husband. The local magistrate has also vowed revenge since Lady Cavanaugh rebuffed his advances.

When Phoebe is discovered in the forest wearing only a chemise stained with the blood of her murdered husband, she persuades the noble ‘highwayman’ who rescues her that she is Lady Cavanaugh’s maidservant.
Hugh Redding has his own reasons for hunting down the man who would have Phoebe tried and hanged for murder. He plans to turn ‘the maidservant with aspirations above her station' into the 'lady' who might testify against the very villain who would see Phoebe dead.

But despite the fierce attraction between Phoebe and the 'highwayman', Phoebe is not in a position to admit she's the 'murderous duchess' hunted across the land.

Seizing an opportunity to strike at the social and financial standing of the man who has profited by her distress, Phoebe is drawn into a dangerous intrigue.

But when disaster strikes, she fears Hugh will lack the sympathy or understanding of her unusual predicament to even want to save her a second time.

Buy Links: 
Amazon | All other buy links

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Excerpt:

Chapter One

It was an evening like any other: dull with a hint of menace and tension so thick Phoebe imagined slicing a neat hole in it and disappearing magically into a new life.
Any would do.
The company had retired to the dim, close drawing room, gentlemen included, following a gluttonous dinner. By the fireplace Phoebe worked at her embroidery, glad to be ignored though she knew that wouldn’t last for long.
The reprieve was even briefer than she’d anticipated. Brutus exhaled on a shuddering snore truncated by a yelp as he chased rabbits in his dreams; this caused James the footman, who was stooping over Ulrick in the act of offering his master a drink, to jump in fright and deposit a snifter of brandy upon her husband’s waistcoat. Not that it would concern Ulrick who was snoring more loudly than Brutus and whose waistcoat was already stained with drool.
The footman cast the mistress a sideways glance as he unwound his lordship’s stock and dabbed at the sticky mess but Phoebe held her tongue and made do with a dispassionate look. She’d never liked James. She was certain he’d conspired with Ulrick on more than a few occasions to put her on the back foot and to tarnish her name below stairs. Despite her obvious disdain, she was afraid of the power he wielded.
“That will be all, James.” She rose with a dismissive wave and the rustle of silken skirts. “I’ll attend to my husband. Please see Mr Barnaby and Sir Roderick out.”
Sir Roderick, that most unwelcome of neighbours, appeared before her, bony and wraithlike; malevolent as ever. “I believe your dog that needs more attention than Lord Cavanaugh.” His thin mouth turned up in a parody of amusement as he wafted a fastidious hand about his nose, indicating Brutus’s greater guilt than his master’s snoring.
Phoebe offered Sir Roderick a cold smile. On the other side of the room Ulrick’s two other guests conversed in low voices by the window.
She inclined her head as she ignored his attempt at levity. “Good night, Sir Roderick.”
Sir Roderick straightened his spare, weedy frame, which she saw trembled with supressed outrage at being so summarily dismissed by the lady of the house.

Phoebe refused to turn away from his challenging gaze. Sir Roderick was another who couldn’t wait until the doors of Blinley Manor were closed against her the moment Ulrick breathed his last. She’d offended his honour, having bitten his lip and kneed him in the groin six months before when he’d accosted her in a dimly lit corridor and suggested in lewd terms how he might assist in the creation of an heir for the already ailing Ulrick. An heir that would ensure Phoebe kept a roof over her head.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Author Info: 


Beverley Oakley was seventeen when she bundled up her first her 500+ page romance and sent it to a publisher. Unfortunately drowning her heroine on the last page was apparently not in line with the expectations of romance readers so Beverley became a journalist.
Twenty-six years later Beverley was delighted to receive her first publishing contract from Robert Hale (UK) for a romance in which she ensured her heroine was saved from drowning in the icy North Sea.
Since 2009 Beverley has written more than thirteen historical romances, mostly set in England during the early nineteenth century. Mystery, intrigue and adventure spill from their pages and if she can pull off a thrilling race to save someone’s honour – or a worthy damsel from the noose – it’s time to celebrate with a good single malt Scotch.
Beverley lives with her husband, two daughters and a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy the size of a pony opposite a picturesque nineteenth century lunatic asylum. She also writes Africa-set adventure-filled romances tarring handsome bush pilot heroes, and historical romances with less steam and more sexual tension, as Beverley Eikli.
You can get in contact with Beverley at:
website | Facebook | Pinterest | Twitter | Goodreads


Interview with Beverley Oakley
About her latest release, The Duchess and the Highwayman

1. What is your favorite part of this book and why?

When Phoebe is on the run from her ex-lover who is trying to frame her for the murder of her late husband, I love her first encounter with the ‘dangerous highwayman’ whom she believes is trying to rape or murder her. Of course, we soon find out it’s her lovely hero, Hugh, who is in fact pursuing the man Phoebe is running away from. It’s during these crucial few moments that Phoebe has the chance to be completely honest about who she is but instead chooses to masquerade as a lady’s maid rather than reveal herself as the duchess she is.

2. If you could spend time with a character from your book whom would it be? And what would you do during that day?

Why, Hugh, of course. In my first draft of the book I’d made Hugh a bit of a rake but he was so much the honourable gentleman by the end of the book that I went back to the beginning and reworked his character considerably. Personally, I’m not into bad boys, so Hugh would be my perfect consort. He’d take me up in his high perch phaeton and we’d barrel recklessly over rutted roads until he’d stop in a clearing in the midst of a forest where he’d have organised a table to be laid with a crisp linen table cloth with flowers and champagne. Then we’d sup while the sun went down. Ahh yes, true romance. It’s a gesture I can imagine my husband making.

3. If you could have been the author of any book ever written, which book would you choose?

Karleen Koen’s Through a Glass Darkly. I loved the intrigue and drama of a romance set during the 1720 English financial crisis, known as the South Sea Bubble.

4. Are your characters based off real people or did they all come entirely from your imagination?
They’re all completely created from my imagination. I don’t know anyone as villainous as Wentworth, my antagonist. Having said that, though, I believe many of the heroes in my stories – Hugh included – are based on my husband.

5. What made you want to become a writer?

I really don’t know. I just know that I have loved stories – reading them and writing them – from a very early age. My first attempt at a novel was my Medieval family saga, The Cavanaughs. That was never finished but I’ve used the name – Cavanaugh – in The Duchess and the Highwayman.
I think I’ll always write, regardless of how old and decrepit I become and whether or not anyone reads my stories.

Thank you for having me!

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The Mafia and His Angel: Part 1 Tainted Hearts Series #1 by Lylah James


The Mafia and His Angel: Part 1

Tainted Hearts Series #1
by Lylah James
Publication Date: August 1, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Alessio…

Cold. Ruthless. Killer.

I am respected and feared by all.

I wasn’t put on this earth to love or be loved. I was put here to wipe out every last member of the damn Abandonato mafia, to pay them back for my mother’s death.

When I find a strange girl hiding, beaten, under my bed, I don’t let her live out of compassion.
She’s a trinket, my plaything.

Ayla…

I thought Alessio was only one more man who wanted to use me, hurt me, and throw me away. I don’t know what it is to trust anymore. I can’t find my heart under the pain.

Alessio found it. He touched it, and brought it alive again.

But if he discovers just how dangerous I am to him…I’ll lose my life.

About Lylah James

Lylah James lives with her parents and younger brother somewhere in Canada. While pursuing her dreams to become a Financial Economist, she uses all her spare time to write. If she is not studying, sleeping, writing or working – she can be found with her nose buried in a good romance book, preferably with a hot alpha male.

Writing is her passion. The voices in her head won’t stop and she believes they deserve to be heard and read. Lylah James writes about drool worthy and total alpha males, with strong and sweet heroines. She makes her readers cry – sob their eyes out, swoon, curse, rage and fall in love. Mostly known as the Queen of cliffhanger and the #evilauthorwithablacksoul, she likes to break her readers’ hearts and then mend them again.

Vanquished by LeTeisha Newton


Vanquished

by LeTeisha Newton
Publication Date: August 14, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark Romance
Preorder: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks
If I should die before I wake,…

Then my soul is Caesar’s to take. He pulls up down, he lifts me up.

And then he leaves me in the muck.

If should fall before I fly…

Then they know it was the fault of mine. He taught me better, he led the way.

I just didn’t know how to stay.

And if I should not gain his heart…

Fuck that, he made me this way. Curled my thoughts and twisted me.

He belongs to me, forever.

About LeTeisha Newton

Writing professionally since 2008, LeTeisha Newton’s love of romance novels began long before it should have. After spending years sneaking reads from her grandmother’s stash, she finally decided to pen her own tales. As many will do during their youth, she bounced from fantasy, urban literature, mainstream, interracial, paranormal, heterosexual, and LGBT works until she finally rested in contemporary romance.

LeTeisha is all about deep angst and angry heroes who take a bit more loving to smooth their rough edges. Love comes in many sizes, shapes, and colors, as well as with—or without—absolute beauty and fairy tale sweetness. She writes the darker tales because life is hard … but love is harder.

Don't Give a Witch Reveal








Witch/Paranormal Cozy Mystery
Date Published: July 19, 2017

 photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

Dylan Apel is at it again…

When the Magical Abilities contest is announced, Dylan couldn't give a flip about entering. But when she discovers the prize is the coveted Never Forget, a spell that makes you immune to mind erasing, she's all in.

That is, until the potion is stolen. Now, she's on lock down in Castle Witch with a thief on the loose. But lucky for her, the witching elite has also arrived, and Dylan's convinced one of them is the Master, an elusive criminal who she believes committed a heinous murder twenty years ago. All Dylan has to do is slip a magical ring on the right person's finger and she's got her killer.

But when the ring is stolen, Dylan's not sure who to trust. Things get worse when her boyfriend is arrested for a theft he didn't commit, a close friend can't remember important details, and Dylan herself is accused of cheating in the contest. Before things get any worse Dylan must find a thief and a murderer—before she becomes the next victim of the Master.

Don't miss another Southern fried witchery—read Don't Give a Witch today!


BLESS YOUR WITCH series:

Excerpt

An arm snaked around my waist. My breath caught in my throat.
“It’s been too long since I’ve smelled your hair,” came the gruff voice over my shoulder.
I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t know you had a hair fetish. That’s totally weird.”
Hot breath parted my locks like fingers. “You’ve got a knack for ruining romantic moments. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
I giggled. “Anyone ever tell you that telling a girl it’s been too long since you smelled her hair is weird?”
Roman spun me around. I pitched forward only to be caught by muscular arms as soon as made of iron as they were of flesh and blood.
“Hold on there. Don’t fall over.”
I straightened. Sea-green eyes met my poo-brown ones. Yes, they were poo brown.
Blond hair grazed the top of his shoulders. I wove my fingers through the ends, pretending to be getting out a bit of lint or something, but really I just wanted to touch his hair.
He wrapped me in a quick hug. “You do smell good.”
“I try.”
We parted and he smiled at me. A goopy look filled his gaze. I bit down on the lopsided grin I knew was stitched on my own face.
“So,” I said. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Roman pocketed his hands. “You come to weddings often?”
“All the time.”
“I bet you go to pick up men.”
I rocked back on one heel. “Am I that obvious?”
Roman leaned on one hip, studying me. He rubbed his chin. “You’re not that obvious. It’s more of a sense I get from you.”
I quirked a brow. “Oh?”
“You seem like the type who goes to weddings, picks one guy, dances with him all night. It’s just long enough for that guy to fall a little bit in love with you. Then you dump him.”
My jaw fell. “That’s horrible. Why would someone do that?”
Roman shook his head. “Ever heard of a black widow?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re terrible. I’m not a black widow. If anything, you’re a dark assassin.”
It was time for Roman to do some major eye rolling. Which he did. Which didn’t surprise me. “Right. Listen, how about you agree that I’m right and we do some dancing?”
I folded my arms over my chest. “Is that the proper way to ask a lady to dance?”
In a flourish of testosterone, Roman dropped to one knee and extended his hand to me. “My lady, would you care to dance with this poor soul?”
I nearly busted my gut laughing. Tears blurred my vision as I said, “Yes.”
Roman guided me out past the chairs. The quartet strings thrummed as he twirled me into the space. Others quickly joined and the post wedding fun kicked into high gear.
I have to tell you, those of us who weren’t centaurs had to make a lot of room for them.
Laughter buzzed in the air as the romance of the wedding took hold of us. Roman and I fell into a smooth rhythm, my head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around me protectively. There was no place else I would rather have been.
A crack of light splintered into the center of the dance floor. People screamed. Others leaped back. Roman pushed me behind him, shielding me with his body.
My heart hammered against my ribs. Heat rose in my chest, rippling up my neck. I peered over Roman’s shoulder.
A man stood in the center. He wore an ebony cape with lapels starched up to his eyebrows. His amber hair was slicked back and he had a deep widow’s peak that plunged down his forehead.
He clapped his hands. “Greetings, everyone!”
The air stilled. The looks of shock on people’s faces quickly changed to confusion.
The man’s gaze washed over the crowd. He studied the gathering as if analyzing us in bits and pieces. He clapped his hands again. “I’ve come with good tidings to the happy couple.”
From his seat at the wedding table, Pearbottom gave a stiff nod. Eliza clutched his hand, her knuckles stretched to white.
I was surprised that neither Pearbottom or Roman had moved on this guy. The small bit of analytical brain I had quickly realized they didn’t consider him to be a threat. That one notion made me relax a tiny bit, the muscles in my neck and shoulders unknotting.
The man flashed a brilliant smile. “This year’s Magical Abilities contest is open for submissions. The grand prize is a vial of Never Forget.” His eyes swept across us once more, landing on me. His piercing gaze made my stomach knot. Maybe it was the cape, but I felt kinda creeped out by him. 
The man raised his hands. “You may enter the contest,” he brought his watch to eye level and said, “starting now!”
A puff of gray smoke billowed up around him. The smoke took on lines, becoming sharper at the edges, more delineated until small circles broke off from the edges. These orbs of gas transformed into doves. Their wings fluttered as they rose high into the sky before disappearing.
A shimmering picture remained where the caped wizard had been standing. A halved roman column sat squat on the ground. Resting on it was a small, golden trophy. A halo shot out around it. After a few seconds the picture faded away, revealing a red banner with yellow script.
REGISTER NOW FOR THE MAGICAL ABILITIES CONTEST!
ALL ENTRANTS MUST BE RECEIVED WITHIN 24 HOURS
From all around me, the wedding crowd released a collective breath.
Roman turned. “You okay?”
I dragged my gaze from the banner. Energy still bubbled in my stomach from where the wizard had stared right through me.
“Hmm?” I said. I shook my head. “Yeah. I’m fine. Wow. That was totally weird. What was that all about?”
“I’ll tell you what it was about, toots.”
I glanced over and saw my paternal grandmother, Milly Jones, caning up to us. She’d dressed up for the occasion. Oh, she still wore black orthopedic shoes, beige support hose, a dark skirt and a shapeless cardigan. But this sweater had sequins!
“Milly, you’ve out done yourself,” I said.
A loud snort jutted from her gnarled hook nose. “I spare no expense when it comes to weddings. What can I say? I love seeing people get married. The only thing better than that is playing with babies,” she said flatly.
I really didn’t know if she was being serious or not. Milly loving babies? That was kind of like an alligator liking small deer.
Not that Milly was going to eat said children. She didn’t do that. Of course not. But she just didn’t strike me as the type to love playing with sweet, cooing babies.
I’d been known to be wrong before, though. It could happen again.
Milly eyed Roman like a pirate eyed treasure—with a glint. The only thing she was missing would have been a metal hand and maybe a gold tooth.
“Roman, it’s good to see you.”
“Good to see you, Milly.”
She studied the magical banner. People were milling about, taking their places once again on the dance floor.
“So I missed the announcement,” she said.
I pulled a tissue from my clutch purse and dabbed a splotch of sweat from my neck. “Where were you?”
“Bathroom.” She drifted toward the banner. “So it’s time again, huh? Time for the contest.”
I shrugged. “Looks like.”
Her neck snapped back to me. “You know you need to enter.”
I dropped the tissue. I shot her a panicked gaze. “Me? Why me? Why do I need to enter?”
She thumbed her nose. “All of you do. You and your sisters.”
“Why do we have to enter?”
Milly’s lips coiled into a serpentine smile. “So that you can win the Never Forget spell.”
I frowned. “Why would I need that?”
Her eyes dragged across the pavilion until they landed in my grandmother Hazel’s direction. “You need the spell,” she said slowly, “so that you can start remembering.”
Confusion fogged my brain. “Remembering what?”
Milly glanced back at me, her eyes stony cold as she said, “Everything your other grandmother makes you forget.”




About the Author 





Amy Boyles grew up reading Judy Blume and Christopher Pike. Somehow, the combination of coming of age books and teenage murder mysteries made her want to be a writer. After graduating college at DePauw University, she spent some time living in Chicago, Louisville, and New York before settling back in the South. Now, she spends her time chasing two toddlers while trying to stir up trouble in Silver Springs, Alabama, the fictional town where Dylan Apel and her sisters are trying to master witchcraft, tame their crazy relatives, and juggle their love lives.

Contact Links

GIVEAWAY

$50 Amazon GIFT CARD
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Signed paperback of DON'T GIVE A WITCH
Marshmallow Fluff BODY SPRAY
Ulta NAIL FILE
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Amy Boyles LIP BALM


Reading Addiction Blog Tours

Royal Replicas book blitz

The Rake’s Bride by Lynn Winchester with interview and giveaway








The Rake’s Bride
Dry Bayou Brides
Book Five
Lynn Winchester

Genre: Historical Western Romance

Publisher: Charizomai Press, LLC

Date of Publication: June 27th

Word Count: 57k


ASIN: B072VVRP1N

Cover Artist: Dar Albert

Tagline: Lies, Fate, Redemption…

Book Description:

Jean-Luc La Fontaine is tired of sowing his wild oats. So, after a disastrous summer in France, he’s back in Dry Bayou, ordering himself a mail-order bride. A new wife will help him forget about the siren with sapphire eyes…

Intelligence, wealth, prestige… It means nothing when you fall in love with the wrong man. So, when scandal chases Isabeau Montefret from France, she runs to America, determined to forget the man with the wicked smile. Isabeau hoped becoming a mail-order bride was the answer to her problems. She’d change her name, start a new life, and lose herself in a small town. When she discovers that the man who disappeared with her heart is the man she agreed to marry, Isabeau settles in for the fight of her life.

When the one woman he’d left France to forget arrives in town, claiming she’s his new bride, Jean-Luc doesn't know what to feel. But when pain gives way to the truth, he must risk keeping a dark secret, one that would steal every chance at happiness. Isabeau once made him believe in happily ever after, now he must learn how to keep his new bride at a distance, lest he lose everything.

Can Jean-Luc be a true husband to the woman he's been deceiving? Can Isabeau convince Jean-Luc she’s his one true love? Will these two rediscover what they had once upon a summertime?




#2

Luc
stared down at her, his jaw muscles working, his nostrils flaring, and the
black eyes behind his dark lashes flashing fire.
Isabeau
spun and walked toward the desk, trying to put distance between them. Enough
distance that she could take a deep breath. The sound of the door closing and
lock turning made every hair on her neck stand on end.
She
was trapped.
Silence
ruled, and the ticking of the clock on the wall only reminded her of each
pressing moment.
Finally,
he stepped forward. She could feel his heat burning into her back, his very
presence thrilling through her blood. Oh, how she missed him. Did he miss her?
Hope flared to life within her, but she remembered what Tilly had said: You already know Mr. La Fontaine? Luc La
Plume, the man she’d met and fallen in love with one summer in France, was
Jean-Luc La Fontaine, the man she was there to marry. A man who had no idea the
woman he’d left behind was the same woman he’d agreed to wed.
She
swallowed as the truth hit her: he’d left. He’d forgotten about her. And had
planned to marry someone else. It didn’t matter that she was that someone else. It only mattered that he hadn’t cared
enough to tell her he was done with her.
The
trickle of apprehension she felt when she’d first spotted him across the
restaurant slowly gave way to the cool head that would serve her much better in
this situation.
“Marielle.”
Deep and resonant, his voice vibrated through her, and she nearly moaned at the
memory of the words that voice had spoken in the warm and fragrant gardens of
La Chateau du Montebleu.
Sucking
in a deep breath, Isabeau spun on her heel and pinned Luc with her gaze. He
cocked an eyebrow, and something she recognized from their summer together
blazed in his eyes—but then it was gone. Swallowed up by disdain. Pain took
shape in her chest, but she swallowed down the rising ache. Don’t look away, don’t look away. Don’t let
him know how much he hurt you.
“Mr.
La Fontaine, I see you aren’t dead,”
she said in French. She thanked the Lord her voice was stronger than she’d
expected. Though, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. She always seemed to find
her strength when she was with Luc. All her life, she’d fooled herself into
thinking she thrived in the shadows, hidden away from the people and the
chatter and the expectations. It’d taken a dashing rake, his astute
observations, and his gentle manner and touch to show her she wasn’t thriving
along the wall of her life—she was dwindling. Like a rosebush planted in
perpetual shade.
With
Luc, she’d learned to speak with frankness and face challenges with courage.
Challenges like leaving the only home and family she’d known to travel across
the ocean and make a new life in a wholly terrifying place.




About the Author:

Lynn Winchester is the pseudonym of a hardworking California-born conservative, now living in the wilds of Northeast Pennsylvania. Lynn has been writing fiction since the 5th grade, and enjoys creating worlds, characters, and stories for her readers.

When Lynn isn't writing she is running a successful editing business, reading whatever she can get her hands on, raising her four children, making sure her husband is happy, and binge watching shows on Netflix.







Interview with Lynn Winchester
Where do you get inspiration for your stories?
All over the place. Watching a movie, reading a book, having a conversation with the husband. Inspiration is everywhere because I take my Muse with me wherever I go.
How did you do research for your book?
Google. I know, I know, that’s the ‘easy’ way to research. So what? Why does it have to be difficult?
Do you have another profession besides writing?
I do have a day job. I am a copyeditor for Hart’s Reader Pulse. I love helping fellow authors shine their books into gems.
If you could go back in time, where would you go?
As a woman of color, I’d have to be a little (a lot) careful about to ‘when’ I travel. Also, I’m a creature of comforts, and travelling back in time would mean the lack of modern conveniences. I think I’ll stay here in 2017, thanks.
What is your next project?

I am working on several projects: book six in my Dry Bayou Brides series, book two in my Dry Bayou Legacy series (a Montana Sky Kindle World series), and I am in the planning stages for a new series coming in 2018.
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Worth Remembering by Holly James

Worth Remembering banner


This is my stop during the book blitz for Worth Remembering by Holly James. This book blitz is organized by Lola's Blog Tours. The book blitz runs from 14 till 20 July. See the tour schedule here.



Worth RememberingWorth Remembering (English Rose #1)

by Holly James

Genre: Romance

Age category: Adult

Release Date: June 4, 2017



Blurb:

Running into her head-over-heels first love during a week’s holiday in Mallorca with her spirited friend Lou was not what Samantha Hillcrest had planned. When sparks fly on the idyllic Mediterranean island she wonders how she’ll be able to return home to her husband and grown-up children, pretending her life hasn’t been turned upside down. Caught between family commitments and the red-hot, sizzling chemistry she shares with Gabriel—her love from twenty-five years ago—Samantha faces an impossibly heart-breaking choice.



A stand-alone novel, Worth Remembering is the first story in the English Rose series which follows a group of authentic English women on their complicated romantic journeys.




You can find Worth Remembering on Goodreads



You can buy Worth Remembering here on Amazon

Worth Remembering is part of Kindle Unlimited.



About the Author:

Holly James was born and raised with her three siblings in Norfolk, England. She packed her bags at eighteen to spend the next four years at university. She lived in Newcastle, Birmingham, London, France, and Spain before settling in beautiful New Zealand. Her daily loves are good coffee, writing, her children, and her husband—the order depending on what kind of day she’s having.

All Holly’s books are stand-alones with no cliffhangers. To be notified of new releases subscribe to her mailing list at http://www.hollyjamesauthor.co.uk



You can find and contact Holly James here:

- Website

- Facebook

- Twitter

- Goodreads

- Amazon