Friday, October 31, 2014

THE BURIED by Shelley Coriell

THE BURIED by Shelley Coriell    (REVIEW)

"It's cold. And dark. I can't breathe."  Successful, ambitious state prosecutor Grace Courtemanche is at the top of her game. Then she gets a chilling call from a young woman claiming to be buried alive. Desperate to find the victim before it's too late, Grace will do whatever it takes . . . even if it means excavating the darkest secrets of her own past and turning to the one man she thought she would never see again.

FBI agent Theodore "Hatch" Hatcher is a man without roots-and that's the way he likes it. But when a grisly crime shatters Cyprus Bend, Florida, Hatch is dragged back to the small town-and the one woman-he hoped was in his rearview for good. Forced to confront  the wreckage of their love affair, Hatch and Grace may just find that sometimes the deepest wounds leave the most beautiful scars-and that history repeating itself may just be what they need to stop a killer . . . and save their own hearts.

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About the author: A former newspaper reporter, magazine editor, and restaurant reviewer. These days Shelley writes smart, funny novels for teens and big, edgy romantic suspense. A six-time Romance Writers of America Golden Heart Finalist, she lives and loves in Arizona with her family and the world's neediest rescue Weimaraner. When she's not behind the keyboard, you'll find her baking high-calorie, high-fat desserts and haunting local farmers markets for the perfect plum.

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Excerpt...“Shine the light to the right near the lilies,” Grace said as she squinted through the blackness, softened only by a sliver of moon. “Something’s been there.”
The spotlight cut across the lilies and landed on a flattened patch of broken reeds. His pulse spiking, he grabbed a low-hanging cypress branch and pulled them closer.
Damn. Too narrow for a boat, even a fourteen footer. “Another gator slide,” he said. Another dead end.

Grace maneuvered the boat out of the tiny creek, gliding to a set of yellow-slitted eyes poking out of the water. Hatch stared down the gator until it blinked and spun away. He’d take on every gator in Florida if it meant getting to Janis Jaffee in time. Although time was key, Grace continued to boat slowly down the river as he searched the banks, looking for any signs of human disturbance. Hatch ground his back teeth. Make that any signs of a disturbed human. They were dealing with a twisted and dangerous mind.

Once on the Apalachicola River, Hatch’s phone vibrated with a text from Lieutenant Lang. “Cell phone company just identified two towers picking up signals,” he told Grace. “Cross section of the towers is some place called Bremen’s Bayou. Name ring a bell?”
“Northwest of here,” Grace called out over the gun of the motor.

“Big area?” Hatch asked.

“Couple hundred acres.”

Even with the roar of the outboard, he heard the excitement in her voice. “What?”
“One of Lamar’s old hunting buddies keeps his dogs on a floating pen in that area. Janis heard the dogs right before she was dragged from the boat. We find the dogs, we’ll find the girl.”

Within fifteen minutes, Grace had them racing down the Apalachicola River and onto Bremen’s Bayou, a slow-moving waterway surrounded by cypress and oak dripping with Spanish moss. His light glided over cypress roots reaching up from the water like fingerless hands. The trees hung low over the water, and branches scratched the side of the boat. And some of the branches—

“Broken!” Grace said on a fast breath. “The wood’s still damp at the break. Someone’s had a boat back in here recently.”

She inched the boat through the tangle of branches. His light landed on a flattened bush and a pair of crushed white trumpet-like flowers. He fanned the light higher. “Drag marks. Too wide for a gator.”

Grace jammed the boat into the bank. He launched himself over the side, his feet sinking into swampy earth. Swatting brush, he chased the drag marks into the knot of blue-black shrubs and trees. Vines reached for his hands and legs. A ropy length of moss wrapped around his neck, and he yanked. Something snarled. Something else hissed. And still he ran.
The brush gave way to marsh. Mud sucked at his feet. His shins. His knees.
On the other side of the bog, he spotted the earthen mound.
He tore up the rise. Something sharp sliced into his right foot. Shoe. He’d lost a shoe.
At the mound, he fell to his knees and clawed the earth. “Janis!” he called. “It’s Hatch. I’m here.”

No banging. No choking gasp.

He scraped harder, faster, sandy soil flying. His finger scraped against something flat and cold. He tugged, and a rock came free. With the flat rock he shoveled earth.

Something crashed through the marshy grass and fell next to him. Another set of hands.
“Spotted three boats coming this way.” Grace jammed her hands in the dirt and shoveled.
His rock hit wood. Someone let loose a cry. Grace? Him? Janis?

More sandy soil flew through the air. He unearthed one corner. Another. With two feet of wood exposed, he banged the rock at the seam along the top. The wood split. He grabbed the broken lengths of wood and yanked, every muscle in his body straining. Nails screeched, the wood splintered, and half of the top board broke off, exposing a pale, dark-haired young woman.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014


BLURP...What happens when you find the right one at the wrong time?
Cara Medlen has a serious case of animal attraction. And it's not because of all the foster dogs she's rescued. She's got it bad for her incredibly sexy neighbor. Her one rule: Don't get attached. It's served her well with the dogs she's given to good homes and the children she's nannied. Yet the temptation of Matt's sexy smile might just convince her that some rules are made to be broken.

Matt Dumont doesn't need his skills as a private investigator to detect disaster on the horizon. Cara is everything he thought he'd never find-gorgeous, funny, and caring. But there's no way he can start a relationship just as he's about to move to another state. Talk about bad timing. As their attraction sizzles too hot to deny, they'll have to make a decision: forget the consequences and let loose, or forget each other and let go...

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AUTHOR BIO...Rachel Lacey lives in North Carolina, with her husband, son, and their own rescued pup. She volunteers her spare time with Carolina Boxer Rescue and truly has a passion for helping our furry friends. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America as well as her local Heart of Carolina RWA chapter. Keep up with the latest news at

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EXCERPT...The temperature had indeed begun to fall as they drove home. Matt was glad for the jacket he kept tucked behind the back seat. He shrugged into it, then walked Cara to her front door.

“Thanks for dinner, and for helping us out. Really, if you get us the evidence to get those dogs seized, I won’t even know how to thank you.” Her warm eyes shone up at him as they stood on her front porch.

Matt gave her a devilish grin. Seriously, did she say these things just to drive him crazy?

Cara licked her lips and took a step back toward her front door.

“No problem.” His gaze slid to her neck, soft skin gleaming white as marble in the silvery light of the moon.

He saw her pulse pounding there. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. Her eyes met his and held on like a magnet drawing him in.

Matt tried to resist. He really did.

And then her lips parted, and his blood turned to steam, and the only thing he could hear was his own pulse hammering away in his ears.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. Cara let out a whimper that caught in his chest and tugged at his restraint. Her lips were soft and warm, tentative as they pressed against his. Her eyes slid shut.

Matt gave her one more gentle kiss. Just a little goodnight kiss, nothing either of them would regret in the morning. He ran his fingers through her curls, and they were as soft as he’d imagined. Softer.

She was kissing him back now, her lips pushing against his, asking for more.

His tongue swept into her mouth. She tasted spicy, like wing sauce and the promise of hot, sweaty sex. The next thing he knew, she was pressed against her front door, Matt’s body crushed against hers. Cara’s arms were around his neck, her tongue tangling with his, her soft moans driving him right out of his mind.

After a minute, she ripped her mouth from his, gasping for breath. “Damn, what did they put in those wings?”

All he could do was smile.

Cara leaned in and brushed her lips against his. Then she winked. “Goodnight, Matt.”

She slipped inside and shut the door in his face.

Matt swore under his breath. He was really starting to develop a love-hate relationship with Cara Medlen’s front door.


Oh. My. God.

Cara leaned against the wall, heart flipping in her chest, silly grin on her face. She couldn’t quite believe she’d just been wedged up against her own front door with Matt’s big, hard body pressed against hers while he kissed her like she was a friggin’ Playboy model.

Okay, now she got the fuss about kissing. With other guys, she’d enjoyed it, but it was nothing she couldn’t live without. She was always worried about where she should put her hands and how quickly he was going to start unbuttoning her blouse.

She’d have unbuttoned her own blouse if Matt had asked. Good lord. His kiss had heated her blood and curled her toes, all those clich├ęs she’d heard but not experienced. Phew.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

An Amish Christmas Quilt by Charlotte Hubbard, Kelly Long, Jennifer Beckstrand

An Amish Christmas Quilt by Charlotte Hubbard, Kelly Long, Jennifer Beckstrand

Warmth that comes from the heart is the kind to last for all seasons

It is with a great talent that three writers can come together and craft stories that work independently as well as together.  There is the theme of each one having a quilt that brings joy and a wealth of love in each one but the stories are told from different perspectives about lives unique and filled with colorful adventures.

Love is always the underlying idea for each story and they are each told from a different perspective and shown how love grows and endures through the years.  Some battle different ideas, or how a life should be led but with the love from above and on earth each family displays the wonders that come when one heart beats for another.