Saturday, 13 December 2014

Festive Greetings

freedigitalphotos

Well, the end of the year is fast approaching.  It's been a busy, chaotic year but many lessons have been learnt and new friendships formed.  I hope to start editing my next novel, Serendipity, which is set in Busselton, Western Australia.  This is the first novel I actually completed many years ago so I'm eager to reconnect with the characters.  The cover hasn't been designed yet but I have a general idea of how I want it to look.  There will be a boat!  Can't wait to see what my cover artist comes up with.  She's a talented lady and designed my last cover.  Pretty, don't you think?


Wishing everyone a wonderful Christmas and Happy Holiday Season!


Tuesday, 11 November 2014

Remembrance Day



They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning. We will remember them. Lest We Forget


Tuesday, 14 October 2014

Goodreads Winner!




Congratulations Lola!
You will be receiving a paperback copy of 
'Escape Down Under'.
The gorgeous cover was designed by 
I hope you enjoy the story.



Tuesday, 23 September 2014

Blonde or Brunette?


I'm currently taking a break from writing but that doesn't mean I've stopped thinking about my next project.  The first draft of 'Serendipity' has been written but I have a long way to go before publication.  I have also started to think about hair colour. The main female character has been written as a blonde and the main male character has black hair but I'm now leaning toward having the female character as a brunette. 
This was the first novel I wrote, many years ago, so it needs a lot of tweaking. What is your preference? Blonde or brunette?


Thursday, 4 September 2014

Being Creative



My latest novel ‘Escape Down Under’ has just been released.

It is the fifth book I've published since 2010 and I’ve decided to have a little break before jumping into my next Work-In-Progress. The sixth novel ‘Serendipity’ has been written but needs a lot of work before publication.  So, in the meantime, I have swapped the keyboard for my crafting tools.  I rarely watch TV so making beaded bookmarks and a variety of trinkets keeps me busy.  


Tools of the trade



 I have a little etsy shop which is a lot of fun. You’re welcome to come by for a visit.



Thursday, 21 August 2014

No Regrets


Today I'm sharing this Blog Post from Novel Rocket. 
Click on 'Read More' at the end to go to their website.


Edie Melson is the author of numerous books, as well as a freelance writer and editor. Her blog, The Write Conversation, reaches thousands each month. She’s the co-director of the Blue Ridge Mountains ChristianWriters Conference and the Social Media Mentor at My Book Therapy. She’s also the Military Family Blogger at Guideposts. Com, Social Media Director for SouthernWriters Magazine and the Senior Editor for NovelRocket.com. Connect with her on Twitter and Facebook.

Life is full of regrets and the writer's life is no different. But since I'm a few years further down the path than a lot of you, I thought I'd share some things I wish I'd done differently. These are some regrets you don't have to have if you pay attention now.




Tuesday, 19 August 2014

Giveaway

Print Copies of 'Escape Down Under' will arrive in Australia Soon.
They are already Available from 
I'm giving away a FREE copy on Goodreads.  Enter to Win...


Goodreads Book Giveaway

Escape Down Under by Jeanette Hornby

Escape Down Under

by Jeanette Hornby

Giveaway ends October 14, 2014.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Enter to win

Monday, 4 August 2014

Escape Down Under - Chapter One

Sharing Chapter One of my latest release.


Copyright © 2014 by Jeanette Hornby

CHAPTER ONE


“It’s bloody hot out there,” a man said as he walked into the airport terminal and wiped sweat from his brow.
 Susan Reynolds’ gaze moved to the glass door where she looked out at the blazing sun.  The heat seemed to bounce off the ground and shimmer before her eyes. 
When she left the cool confines of the airport foyer to join the taxi queue, she realised the man was right.  ‘Hot’ was an understatement.  Her cotton shirt grew damp with perspiration and it was hard to believe that only a few hours ago she’d been rugged up against the harsh English winter. 
Thoughts of England squeezed the air from her lungs and she took a breath before brushing a weary hand across her forehead.  Only God knew when her luggage would turn up.  Fear of losing her prized possession made her heart thump.  She exhaled slowly.  She needed to leave the mayhem of the airport behind and find her hotel. 
Finally, she was first in the queue and she quickly climbed into the waiting cab.  The radio blared and a strong odour of nicotine stung her nostrils.
“Where to, Miss?” the taxi driver asked in a gruff accent.
Susan located a crumpled piece of paper from her purse and read the address.  “The Indian Ocean Hotel in Scarborough, please.”
The taxi driver turned and smiled at her, his teeth like stucco.  “That’ll cost you about fifty dollars.”
“Yes, fine.”  She pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and wiped it over her face.
“Buckle up,” the taxi driver told her.
She fumbled with the seatbelt.  It had a greasy feel to it, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust.
The taxi suddenly lurched and took off with speed while Susan grabbed at the leather upholstery to steady herself.  The Aussies hadn’t lied about Mad Max’s driving skills.  It seemed he was alive and well, and driving this taxi.  She hung on tightly as the cab raced forward.
When the taxi finally slowed with the line of traffic, she wasn’t sure if she should relax or prepare herself for the next onslaught. 
She took a calming breath and looked out at the surroundings through the taxi window.  It was all traffic and buildings, not the wide open spaces she’d imagined.  Perhaps that was only in the brochures.  She sighed in disappointment. 
The sway of the taxi made her eyelids heavy and she longed desperately for sleep.  The remainder of the journey went by in a blur.
“Here you are,” the driver said as the cab stopped.
Susan looked up at the hotel.  The tall, obtrusive building looked like it was still wedged securely in the ’70s.
“Are you orright?” the driver asked. 
She would have to get used to the way the Aussies strangled the English language.  She nodded.  “How much do I owe you?”
“Forty-nine seventy,” the man answered. 
She searched through her purse for the right note.  Luckily, she had remembered to exchange some currency at the airport.
“Thank you,” she said as she handed him the money.  The taxi driver gave her some change and she climbed out of the car.  She stretched her back before walking quickly into the hotel to escape the heat. 
Refreshing cool air circulated throughout the lobby and Susan let out a huge sigh of relief.  Her low heels clip-clopped across the polished floorboards to the jarrah-topped counter.  An attractive brunette sat behind the desk.   
“Can I help you?” the woman asked in an accent far removed from that of the taxi driver.  Her name tag read, “Elizabeth”.
“Yes.  I booked over the internet.”  Susan handed over the confirmation letter.
“Let’s see,” Elizabeth said as she turned to her computer.
Susan took the opportunity to look around her.  The entire ceiling was covered in dark wood panelling and so were most of the walls down the hall.  The plain circular clock showed three-fifteen.
“Here we are.  You’re on the second floor, room two-zero-seven.”  Elizabeth pushed a piece of paper in front of Susan and handed her a pen.  “Please sign this form.”
Susan’s sweaty fingers fought with the pen as she signed her name.   Messy, but that would have to do.  It seemed strange to be using her maiden name again. 
Elizabeth handed her the key to her room.  “Do you have luggage?”
“No.  It didn’t arrive with my flight.”
“Oh, dear,” Elizabeth said, sympathetically.
“Is there anywhere I can buy something to drink?”
Elizabeth pointed down the hall.  “Walk through the hallway and turn right.  We have a fully stocked bar.  Call out if no one’s at the counter.”
Susan was relieved.  “Thank you.”
It was a short walk to the bar.  She noticed the outdated furniture and fittings but everything looked clean and neat.  Several black-and-white photographs hung on the wall, one section showcasing the hotel’s history, another section, it’s proposed future development.
“Can I help you?” someone asked from behind the counter.  A short, shapely woman with kohl darkened eyes, piercings in her brow, and black-dyed hair gazed at Susan and waited for a response.  Yet another era jammed into the room. 
Susan decided against buying alcohol.  “I’d like a bottle of lemonade.”
“Of course, Madam.”  The twang of her voice seemed at odds with the term of address.  She retrieved a bottle and handed it to Susan.
“Thank you.  Can you put it on my bill?  Room, two-zero-seven.” 
“Of course.  Please sign the docket.”
After signing her name, Susan smiled.  “Thanks.”
The woman gave her a quick nod and continued with her tasks.
Susan soon found the elevator and closed her eyes as it moved to her floor.  Relief and fear battled in the pit of her stomach.  She was alone, just as she had planned for so long, but the stark reality of it did nothing to ease the doubts circling in her mind. 
The elevator signalled its arrival with a ding and she opened her eyes.  Soon, she was safely in her room with the air conditioner on, and she quickly took a sip of her lemonade.  The sweet liquid eased its way down her dry throat before she turned on the TV.
“And it seems we will be in for another scorcher tomorrow,” said the woman on the screen.
Unexpectedly, the small room closed in on Susan, and she struggled to breathe.  To distract herself, she walked quickly out to the balcony. 
 As the full force of the heat hit her again, she gripped the balcony wall and tried to concentrate on the view.  From this angle, all she could see was the hotel’s swimming pool.  It was flanked by a couple of palm trees and was oddly comforting.  She let herself be lulled by the calm blue water and wished she had a swimsuit to change into.
The warm gusty breeze brushed over her skin and she thought of what she had overcome.  Soon, her breathing returned to normal. 
She re-entered the room and moved to the bathroom where the reflection in the mirror showed her tousled blonde tresses. She shrugged at her unruly appearance, undressed, and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel.  She turned on the tap, washed her underwear in the basin, and wrung it out before moving it to the balcony.  With this heat, her clothing should be dry in no time. 
There was no clothes line so she placed the damp garments over a plastic chair in the corner and went back inside.
She sat on the edge of the bed and pondered the day’s events.  It had been a long journey and the airport terminal had been chaotic.  There had been so many people and so many different nationalities.  She hadn’t expected that.  She’d always thought of Australia as some sparsely populated, distant land. 
And here she was without any luggage.  “Twenty-four to forty-eight hours,” the woman behind the airport desk had told her.  What would she do until then?  Thank God, she still had her handbag.
Everything suddenly seemed surreal.  Had she truly done it?  Was she actually, finally, on Australian soil? 
“Join us tomorrow at Myers and grab a bargain,” said a voice on the TV.  The distinct Australian twang hit home, and she knew no dream could be this vivid. 
She longed to sleep but she was so wound up she knew it would be pointless to even attempt it.  Instead, she channel-hopped and marvelled at the difference of the Australian culture to her own. 
An hour passed quickly and her gaze moved to the balcony.  She remembered her underwear and pulled the towel tight around her as she made her way outside.
She gathered her dry lingerie and turned to go back inside when she heard masculine voices.  Intrigued, she walked to the edge of the balcony wall and peeked over but she couldn’t quite see.  As she leaned over, her towel began to slip and she grabbed it but the quick movement loosened her grip on her underwear.
A strong gust of wind took hold of her panties and she grasped at the air to no avail.  “Oh, no!” she cried as her panties floated gracefully below.  When they landed at the feet of a passer-by, she recoiled in horror.  
The man reached for them and looked up.  Susan was rooted to the spot, her face aflame, as their eyes met.  The pull of his gaze made her gasp.  She stared wordlessly as she took in his darkly arresting appearance.  Every muscle was defined under his close-fitting white shirt, and his blue jeans revealed the strength of his limbs.  Everything about him screamed masculinity.  Susan closed her mouth.
A smile spread across the man’s face as he held up the renegade panties and she wanted to…she struggled for breath…she wanted to die!  She did the next best thing and ran into her room, slamming the door shut.  Her heart beat wildly.  She wanted to cry but began to laugh instead.
As she thought of her predicament, she was instantly quiet, and hugged herself with trembling arms.  She was alone in a strange country with no friends, no luggage, and now, no panties.  What had she done? 
She rubbed her temples where a dormant migraine was stirring, moved slowly back to the door of the balcony, and peeked out.  She couldn’t see anyone which was probably just as well.  What would she say anyway?  “Excuse me, Sir, may I have my panties?”  She shook her head.  It could only happen to her.  What now? 
She collapsed onto the bed and the image of a tall, dark-haired, extremely masculine man, clutching her silky, hot-pink panties sprung to mind.  That image would forever be burned in her memory.  Great!  Just what she needed.
Sleep! she ordered.  She closed her eyes tight and let exhaustion overcome her.

Click here to purchase: 
Amazon   
Smashwords 
iTunes

I'm giving away 5 ebooks from Smashwords and 5 ebooks from Amazon.
G+,Tweet, or Share on FB to be in the draw.

Winners announced 1st September - the first day of Spring in Australia.


Tuesday, 29 July 2014

Beautifully Forgotten - New Release




Title: Beautifully Forgotten
Series: Beautifully Damaged #2
Author: L.A. Fiore
 Release Date: July 29, 2014 


SYNOPSIS

Successful restaurateur Lucien Black’s blue-green eyes and unattainable attitude drive women wild. But his abandonment issues and criminal past have left him emotionally closed off. When a familiar face shows up for a job interview at his nightclub, the ache he has tried to forget tears at his heart—it’s the girl who once healed him…and then abandoned him.
Darcy MacBride still remembers Lucien’s delicate touch when they were both wildly in love teenagers. His gorgeous eyes had soothed her hurt after she’d been dumped off at the orphanage where Lucien lived. Darcy felt his jagged edges fit perfectly into her own, and she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with him—until a mysterious man warned her away. Now, fourteen years later, she’s ready to endure the torture of Lucien’s indifference and having him as her boss…just to be near him. But when it seems that they might finally take up where they left off, a devastating secret buried in their past threatens to tear them apart again.

L.A. Fiore’s story of smoldering love recaptures the tormented romance of Beautifully Damaged.



LINKS TO BUY



ALSO AVAILABLE



  


EXCERPT

Lucien watched as Darcy struggled to get the printer working. Even from his distance he could hear the cursing, which made him smile. It had been a week since their relationship had taken a very pleasant turn. She was still just as feisty as he remembered and it wasn’t hard for him to recall why he had fallen for her in the first place. Their sparring was verbal foreplay and he fucking craved it. His eyes moved over her. Her body was nothing like the one he had known, with curves that his hands itched to touch. Her hair was up, though he preferred it down, and tendrils were falling out of the twist. He remembered vividly the sight of it spread out over his pillow.

He had to admit that she was still just as interesting to him as she had been at fourteen. Despite everything, she was still his Darcy—sweet, witty, and guileless, except at the moment. She looked about ready to torch the printer, so he moved to help her. As he approached, she was actually staring into the paper tray, yelling at the creatures that lived inside it.

He chuckled, which must have taken her by surprise, because she leaped backward and landed on his foot.

“Fuck!” he cursed.

“Sorry.”

He looked down at her strappy sandals with heels high enough to stake a vampire and had a vision of those legs draped over his shoulders. Instantly, he was hard.

“I was going to offer to help you. The printer can be temperamental, but now I’m bleeding out from a stab wound.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “It probably didn’t even break the skin. What is it you guys say? Rub some dirt into it.”

He eyed her shoes. “Those things should be listed as lethal weapons.”

“Hardly. There are far cheaper ways to kill someone.” She bent to stare into the printer again and Lucien took the opportunity to check out the curve of her ass in the little black skirt she wore.

“Stop checking out my ass and help me.”

Not at all repentant for getting caught staring, he replied easily, “It’s a paper jam.”

He thought he was being helpful and when she straightened slowly, he entertained the notion that she was struggling with the need to throw herself into his arms in gratitude.

One look at her face, though, and he knew he wasn’t going to be copping a feel.

“Your powers of deduction are astounding. Seriously, you should give a seminar on mastering the obvious.”

He tried not to laugh, but he lost that battle. And she responded by flaying a layer of skin off him with her sharp tongue.

“I know it’s a paper jam, Sherlock, I just can’t find it.”

“It’s usually in the back,” Lucien said as he reached for the back of the printer, his arm brushing up against her on purpose. Darcy’s inhaled breath in response had his balls tightening. He dislodged the paper and pulled it free.

He turned to her with a smug smile, which she returned with uncanny accuracy before she said, “Thanks. I almost lost my cool.”

“Almost?”

A slight smile touched her lips. “I should go restart my print job.”

“Probably, unless you can get the little men in the printer to do it.”

Brownies.”

“What?”

She laughed. “Not the baked goods, the little mischievous mystical creatures.”

“They live in my printer?”

“Maybe.” She started away, but stopped and turned to him.“Thanks.”

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

She eyed him through her lashes before she said, “You’re on.”

And then she turned and disappeared into her office.





AUTHOR BIO

L.A. Fiore lives in Bucks County, Pennsylvania with her husband, two children, their dog, two kittens and Willow: their three-legged hamster. Her twin sister lives right down the street and being a seasoned zombie hunter, there is comfort knowing when the zombie apocalypse comes they'll be ready. L.A. loves hearing from readers and can be reached through Facebook at the link below.

AUTHOR LINKS

GIVEAWAY

  

Monday, 14 July 2014

Pizzica Pizzica


Pizzica – Italian word meaning to bite, pinch or sting.

I received this beautifully illustrated book from the author – Hayley Egan.  In simple, yet bold colours and pictures, the story enfolds in both English and Italian.  Based on a fable from Italy’s southern region of Apulia, Pizzica Pizzica is a dance ritual providing an antidote to the venom of the Tarantula spider.

What I loved about this story was its connection to my own southern Italian heritage of Calabria.  We know the dance as the Tarantella.  I also loved reading the story in Italian as well as English.  I hope to share the story with my grandson as he gets older.




Hayley Egan is an artist, musician, author and mother of two. She is the author of bilingual children’s book ‘Pizzica Pizzica’, and is currently in the initial stages of her second project.
Her journey with bilingualism commenced in 2003 with travel to Siena, Italy, the beginning of a long and complex relationship with the Italian culture that would involve a degree in Italian studies, raising two bilingual children, and an obsession with food that is probably difficult for some to understand.
In 2008 she moved to Valladolid, Spain where she lived with her partner musician and ethnomusicologist Salvatore Rossano, who founded the international world music/jazz ensemble AzzBand. Both Hayley and Salvatore performed with this group during the 5 years they lived in Spain.
During this time, Hayley also worked as a freelance artist, taught English, studied art history at the University of Salamanca, developed a series of bilingual art workshops for children, and became a mother to Coco, who was born at home in Valladolid.
In 2013 the family moved across the world to Melbourne Australia, where they welcomed Ravi, also born peacefully at home. They now live in a country town outside Melbourne.
Hayley currently dedicates her time to painting, music, picture book making, and her family.

Friday, 4 July 2014

A Good Read


4 Stars



An enjoyable read. All tales were interesting and unique with engaging situations and characters. The shorter stories had me wanting more, a testament to the good writing.


Tuesday, 17 June 2014

Covered

After releasing my first two novels, I learned a valuable lesson.  The reader wants to see the 'hero'. Luckily for me, I have a type, and that type is Jimmy Thomas.  I also used Jimmy on my novel, Candy's Man.  I must say, he is a talking point.  What do you think?


The complete cover of my WIP for print.  To be released soon.
Thank you to Dawn from Dark Dawn Creations 



Tuesday, 10 June 2014

What Lies Beneath

Sharing this great poem.


What Lies Beneath.

Stop what you’re doing and listen.
Put it down, all of it.
The laundry basket full
of other peoples things.

Their thoughts, and your old stories
Of who you should be
tangled up with mismatched socks
and worn-out layers

Now Shhh, don’t move, don’t talk.
It’s simple, and just about impossible
Be still, silent.
Just listen.

She will creep out from under the pile
if you let her.
She’s been hoping and waiting
for you to notice

She may whimper at first
or bound out boldly
after too many years
being trapped underneath.

She
is the deep down inside you.
Perhaps the hidden, unknown, forgotten
You.

Your voice,
The one you may have lost
When you became another.
A mother.

She may need to travel or sing
Paint, write or draw.
She could learn to dance, or run.
Anything.

She could play soccer, and wants to fly
Step aside
and trust
for she knows just what to do.

When all is quiet, listen.
Believe her when she speaks
of what lies beneath the lists and chores
and layers of endless things.

So go on, put it all down, and take her hand
For she wants to show you a secret path,
that leads right back
to you.

Copyright (C) 2010. By Meg Lawton. All Rights Reserved.



Tuesday, 3 June 2014

TBR

My 'To-Be-Read' pile is getting bigger and bigger. 

 My latest acquisition is a free copy of 
Comfy Shorts by L.K. Campbell.
Thank you to the author!

I'll let you know what I think when I get a chance to read it.  





Tuesday, 20 May 2014

A writer's mind...

I'm sharing a blog post from Sweet N Sexy Divas by Tina Donahue.


Sweet N Sexy Divas: When I tell people I’m a writer, they shake their heads and tell me they’d never be able to create a world with fictional characters and paint a story with words. Or less eloquently put, they ask how I get story ideas.

Hair of the Dog, for example, was inspired by my former job. Once upon a time I worked at a fraternal organization. You know—one of those men’s clubs named after a majestic animal. The kind with secret handshakes, rituals and salutations. Sometimes they wear goofy hats or colorful vests adorned with regalia and call each other Brother. 

As a general rule, my mind does not operate paranormally, but I thought what if…what if the members of these benevolent societies were actually shifters of whatever fierce critter was their namesake? Wolves and Cougars and Bears, oh my. That’s a start, right? What’s next? Set the story in a sleepy little mountain town where shifters come to rejuvenate, relax and vacation. Throw in a magical hot spring in danger of drying up and an enchanted fairy prophesized to save the town and you’ve got the beginnings of a story. Sprinkle with romance, drizzle with sex and serve sizzling hot.  

Great idea for a series? What kind of shifter do you like to read about?  

Read more here




Sunday, 30 March 2014

Maria Savva - New Release


Maria Savva lives and works in London. She studied Law at Middlesex University and The College of Law. She is a lawyer, although not currently practising law. 

She writes novels and short stories in different genres, including drama, psychological thriller, and family saga. 
Many of her books and stories are inspired by her years working as a lawyer, although she has not written a courtroom drama to date. 
She has published five novels, the most recent of which is Haunted, a crime fiction/psychological thriller. 
Far Away In Time is her sixth collection of short stories. You can find out more about her work at her official website: www.mariasavva.com



Our lives are a series of stories, and we are the characters with the starring roles. The memories, regrets, secrets, and struggles that fill these pages are at once unique and relatable. These stories belong to us all.

Eight unforgettable tales reaching out to a place Far Away In Time...


View the Book Trailer


Available on Amazon Kindle:

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