LATEST RELEASES FROM BOOKS WE LOVE AUTHORS:
With a new set of possibilities opening at every turn, DEATH GAME will challenge your sense of what is true and even what is real. It will take you straight into a world you probably didn’t know existed, the dark and disturbing realm of teenage Internet games.
DEATH GAME will have you asking yourself if you really know where your children are—even if they’re sitting in their bedroom.
In everyday life we face dilemmas, obstacles, and situations where a decision needs to be made. Whether we choose the right or wrong path, only time will tell. In Aleatory, the residents are used to strange occurrences, to newcomers travelling through but never returning. But for these newcomers, Aleatorys Junction will prove to be more than just a fork in a corner out of town. For some, it will mean an ultimate life changing euphoria. And for others well let’s just say a mirror of who they really are.
Raised by an occult worshipping, incestuous mother, a bastard son becomes a man carrying on his own sadistic torture. In 1978, one man boiled over with sickness ravishing the farm girls of Western Illinois, while another man must sacrifice his beloved belief in family or sacrifice one of his own, 13 year old, Jennie Grace. The story shows the wicked circle of abuse, progressing from generation to generation. Jennie Grace is a survivor, and her mind has no choice but to become just as strong in this emotionally charged, suspenseful, action packed novel.
The Tree is a about a young boy, who escapes the horrors of his daily life by finding shelter and protection under The Tree outside of the small Iowa farm community of Gilman. Drugs, death and crime surround him, plaguing his every step as the boy struggles to become a man, eventually forced to make it on his own. After 25 years of running from the demons he tried to leave behind in Gilman, he reluctantly returns as a man to face the demons that haunt him.
Witches Night is the first in our series of anthologies celebrating Halloween night, when the veils between worlds are thinnest and anything can happen. To kick it off properly, we’ve put together a collection of spicy, saucy, magical tales of witches and the people who love them. From the dabblers and charlatans to the full-fledged sorceresses of old, each of these stories is filled with curses and spells, wit and passion by authors familiar to our readers as well as some new, exciting faces. Seven very different witches, seven passionate, engaging stories that will draw you completely under their spell!
Step through our "front door" & meet some interesting characters: one of Santa's top elves, investigating a vandalized playground...a Jewish mother, finding her way, now that the kids are grown...a serial killer, taking a date for a ride in the snow...a woman walking alone on Halloween night, suspecting she may be followed...a superstitious girl, taunted by the local bully...a Swedish woman, heartbroken over a rumor...a tiny fairy, summoning the courage to save the coming spring...a preschool teacher, stumbling upon an old flame...and a desperate mother of four young children, rediscovering the gift of giving..
In STEP ON A CRACK by Elizabeth Delisi: Superstitions are just old wives' tales. Or are they? Linda Mae Watkins lives her life by those old sayings, and she knows different...
Welcome to Whiterock, Oregon, where peculiar happenings are taken for granted. Whiterock is where Sally Carruthers is stuck, nursing a dying father. Whiterock is where Gus Loring seeks forgetfulness. Whiterock is where people are from, because there's nothing left to hold them there. Perhaps there's something more to Whiterock than dusty streets, shabby buildings, and discouraged residents, because everything changes when Gus and Sally find each other. The future once again holds hope and promise.
Or does it?
Three British Columbia island stories to delight you: a couple leaving their fancy west end condo to experience life on Gale, a Gulf Island; a young woman leaving her beloved Gulf Island to experience life in the city; and a humorous vignette of life in Tofino, on Vancouver Island.
Four stories, each a separate adventure, about unusual characters who first appear like ordinary people. Is Margaret who she appears to be or someone altogether different? Can a new suit really alter our appearance? Who is the man, sitting at the side of the road? Step into the future and learn about clones.
In the snowy woods of Northern Ontario, two stories are fusing into one. One is contemporary; the other as old it seems as time itself.
In the first, twelve students are rehearsing Shakespeare's Macbeth during a freak snowstorm which has them trapped in their school and worrying about "the curse of the Scottish play" as it affects not only their production but their lives. Their fears are hardly allayed by their teachers who both have their private problems—one with a fear of accepting responsibility, the other with an irrational terror of blizzards.
(featured in "A Littlest Angel Book")
When a lizard, a bird, and a bumblebee are all too busy to play, the blue dinosaur gives them a friendly grin and leaves. He offers to help a young turtle swim in the ocean waves. The next day his other friends join them.
Laura Madison, the general manager of a south Florida camping resort is the perfect businesswoman, who is being stalked by an unknown and potentially deadly psychopath. She must rely on the assistance of a self-employed, arrogant, sexy, obnoxious and charming private investigator in her quest to find out who the demented stalker is.
Song Without Words by Barri Bryan:
Raye Larson awakens in a hospital room with blurred vision, a headache, no knowledge of her past, and no clear understanding of the events and actions that are taking place around her.
The man who insists that he’s her husband is handsome, charismatic and exudes a masculine charm that is both potent and compelling. Does she dare trust Craig Larson when every instinct she possesses warns her that she shouldn’t?
Hayley Carmichael has lost everything … can her sanity be far behind? She has no mother, no job, and no home, so Hayley follows her newly acquired fiancé, Brody, to his hometown of St. Augustine, Florida. Brody’s not there, but his family is. There’s Drake, Brody’s sullen twin, identical to his brother minus a little hair; his unhappy wife Meredith, whose marriage is sinking fast; and Eleanor Northwood, Brody’s mother, an eccentric old woman with a big heart and an agenda to match, who invites Hayley to stay at her beautiful inn, Plenty O’ Peace.
But peace isn’t so plentiful when Hayley discovers the house may be haunted and Eleanor’s sexy step-nephew, Jordan, is getting under her skin.
MESSAGES IN A BOTTLE
by April Star
Interesting, Mac thought to himself. Another bottle washed up on the shore. “You’d think somebody would throw out a full one,” he mumbled as he walked out into the cove and lifted a white zinfandel wine bottle from the waves before walking back to shore.
He pulled the cork from the bottle, and with a stick, fished out the note from inside. “Help, I’m stranded all alone on a desert island.” Mac walked to his signal fire, pulled a small stick from the flames, and with the burnt end he wrote, “Me too!” on the back of the note. Then he put the note back in the bottle, corked it, and threw it back into the water. Then he sat down on a rock beside his signal fire and looked at the dozen or so bottles he had collected-- all of them with similar notes inside. “Is this island some kind of post office?” he shouted. “Or am I just going crazy?
And so begins the mystery of the bottle that washes up on a deserted beach somewhere in the middle of some ocean. Could it really be there were that many wine connoisseurs stranded on deserted islands in the middle of nowhere? Why were so many of their messages, their hopes, their dreams of discovery, all ending up on the same beach that just happened to be the beach where Mac was stranded? Is it some kind of unexplainable Bermuda Triangle thing or is Mac really crazy?
Destiny watched from the shore, her long blonde hair glistening against her soft tanned skin. Every day for weeks and weeks she has spent most of her days watching for ships in the distance. Food was plentiful on the island, and if not for the fact that she was all alone, Destiny believed she could come to love the natural beauty and bounty that the island kept secret from the world. “Oh well,” she said to herself, “might as well try it again.”
She walked over to where several wooden cases of white zinfandel lay on the beach, uncorked a bottle, poured the wine on the sand, and placed a piece of paper inside of the bottle before replacing the cork and tossing the bottle into the sea. “See ya’ around sometime – yeah right.”
Tired of the many weeks lost at sea, Mac finally decided he would never be found. As he had no tools, he began to gather the limbs of trees, which he was able to break-off, along with the biggest vines he was able to tear-away from the dense undergrowth of the tropical forests. Over the course of the next few weeks he constructed a crude raft to use in an attempt to rescue himself.
On another beach, Destiny decided that she too would never be found, so she began construction of a crude hut built from sticks, vines, and palm fronds not unlike the huts she had seen on television so many times before, though the huts on television seemed to stand-up much better than hers.
One day, while combing the beach for driftwood, Destiny discovered a bottle that had washed ashore. She removed the bottle from the sand, pulled the cork from its mouth and shook out the note that was inside. Unfolding the note she read, “Me too.” Stunned, Destiny sat down on the beach and said, “Me too-- what kind of message is that?” Then she turned the note over and read in her own handwriting, “Help, I’m stranded all alone on a desert island.”
“This is too weird,” Destiny spoke aloud. “I send a message in a bottle and it comes back with a reply from somebody else who’s stranded too. Is this some kind of sick joke? What could be worse than that?” Then she placed the note back in the bottle, grabbed some paper from a small notebook in her purse and began to write another note.
A few days later, Mac again saw a bottle floating in the cove. Just as before there was a note inside, only this note read, “Please tell me you’re a handsome young man who is on his way to rescue this beautiful sea nymph who is stranded all alone on a deserted island.” Chuckling aloud, he walked to his signal fire, pulled out a small burnt stick and wrote a message on the back of the note.
“I can’t believe I ever married that guy,” Destiny mumbled. “If I hadn’t gotten married then I wouldn’t have been miserable, and I wouldn’t have gotten divorced and went on a cruise that sunk in the middle of the ocean. And I wouldn’t be dreaming about being rescued by some guy who sails up to my beach on some kind of homemade raft. I’m so stupid sometimes.”
Destiny got up and walked to the beach, her tattered clothes exposing her, her skin as deeply tanned as if she were native to this part of the tropics. As she looked out towards the ocean she saw yet another bottle floating in the waves. “What the heck,” Destiny said as she stripped naked and started walking towards the water, “It’s not as if anyone is going to see me.”
A few minutes later she walked back up on the sandy beach, her body glistening as the sun reflected on the droplets of water that covered her firm young body. “What’s this?” she asked as she read the note. “Send a full bottle? What kind of survivor expects full bottles of wine to float up on the beach?” She walked to the open cases, picked up a full bottle and tossed it into the sea. “Enjoy, whoever you are.”
“Well I’ll be,” Mac laughed as he pulled the bottle from the sand beneath his feet. “She sent me a full bottle of wine. A full bottle. Who would have ever thought it?”
Mac awoke the next morning laying in the sand next to his signal fire which had burned out the night before. “Ah well,” Mac said, “doesn’t matter anyway, I’m taking off tomorrow so it really doesn’t matter. Mac picked up one of the bottles from the pile, removed the note from inside and began writing, “I’m setting sail on my raft tomorrow morning. Best as I can tell it takes about three days for these messages to reach one another, so look for me on the day after you find this message.” Then he tossed the bottle back into the sea.
Early the next morning Mac dragged his crudely built raft into the cove, and with a pole he began pushing the fragile craft towards the open waters beyond the coral reef that protected this part of the island from the crashing waves of the open seas. He remembered having swum to shore after the airplane went down and the days he spent looking for other survivors of the crash. If any others had survived then they most certainly had landed on the shore of some other speck of rock, sand, and palm trees in the middle of nowhere just as Mac had landed on his island. “I wonder what she’s like? Goodbye you wretched island. I hope I never see you again!”
“Oh well,” Destiny said as she tossed the bottle to the sand, the note still in her hand, “if he makes it then at least I won’t be alone. Nothing could be worse than spending the rest of your life alone. Maybe I should start trying to make myself look a little bit better? I wonder if I can find a sharp enough rock to shave my legs before Mister Mystery Hero gets here.”
Mac had barely gotten out into the waves when his raft started taking a beating. Without tools he had been unable to cut any substantial sized trees from which to build his raft and ensure safe passage to wherever it was he was going. To make matters worse, at the end of the first day he wasn’t even out of sight of the island he was attempting to leave behind. It appeared that through some freak force of the ocean’s currents, he was simply circling the very island he had hoped to get away from.
“Okay Mister Mystery Hero,” Destiny said as she sat in the sand looking out at the open seas. It’s been over twenty-four hours since I found your last note. Are you coming or not? Don’t tell me you crashed on some other island somewhere. Where are you, Mister Mystery Hero?” she grumbled.
It was late in the day when Destiny finally began seeing pieces of vines and sticks washing up on the shore. She looked but there was no raft, no boat, no anything but ocean as far as she could see. “No! No, no, no! I don’t want to think about it! I don’t want to think you didn’t make it! I don’t want to think about spending the rest of my life alone on this island! What could be worse than being alone for the rest of your life? What?”
“How about spending the rest of your live trapped on a deserted island with your x-wife?” a voice from behind her asked. Shocked at hearing another human voice, Destiny turned around to see her x-husband, Mac. “’Till death do us part, Baby.’”
THE CHRISTMAS WISH
by
JennaKay Frances
Daniel Evans dropped his duffel bag with a heavy sigh, straightened, smoothed the wrinkles from his uniform and took a deep breath of relief. Home. God, it was good to be home again. And for a whole month. One whole month before he had to return to that godawful heat of Brazil, his post. He glanced out over the tidy little snow covered yard that surrounded the old white farmhouse. His gaze swept over the fields beyond. Fields that had once belonged to his family but had been sold off years earlier as his parents aged. He remembered playing in those fields, running through the tall grasses, getting his first kiss amongst the corn stalks. Yes, the place held good memories.
He glanced down as a large orange tabby cat leapt onto the wooden porch. The cat sauntered up to him and rubbed against his leg, purring. Daniel laughed and reached down to scratch the animal's head. "You're getting hair all over my uniform, you know," he murmured.
The cat answered by rubbing against his other leg. Daniel shook his head and once again straightened. He took another deep breath and rang the doorbell. This was to be a surprise. His parents didn't even know that he had gotten leave.
He heard his father grumbling as he stomped to the door inside. Daniel had probably interrupted the usual Sunday morning ritual of a farm breakfast served beneath the Sunday paper. His father hated having anything interrupt that. But Daniel was sure that this would be one exception. He was right. His father yanked the door open, a scowl on his thin face, ready to rail at whomever stood there. Instead, his watery blue eyes grew wide and a gasp escaped his lips.
"Sakes alive!! Danny!!" he breathed, then yelled over his shoulder. "Mother!! It's Danny! Come here. Come on! Sakes alive, boy!" He pushed open the screen door and hauled Daniel inside and into his arms.
Daniel grinned and looked over his father's shoulder as his mother hurried into the room. She stopped cold just outside the kitchen. She was just the way he remembered her. Still beautiful with her golden hair plaited and rolled into a top bun, her full cheeks rosy from the heat in the kitchen. Her large, brown eyes filled with tears and she held her arms open for him. His father released him and he went to his mother, scooping her into his arms, burying his face in her shoulder, trying in vain to hide his own tears. She smelled of eggs, bread, apples and coffee. He breathed deeply, trying to regain control of his emotions. She pulled him back and appraised him quickly.
"Sakes, boy! Don't they feed you in the military? You're all skin and bones! Come on, I've got breakfast going. You need to eat!" She dragged him into the warm, brightly lit kitchen and guided him to a chair at the old, wooden table.
"I'll get your bag, son," his father called.
"Pop, be careful," Daniel called back. "It's heavy!"
"Oh, sakes!" his father retorted. "I've lifted heavier things than a bag full of dirty clothes!"
Daniel chuckled. He knew his father would get the bag into the house no matter the struggling he would have to do to accomplish that. Daniel sat still, one hand gently stroking the red and white gingham tablecloth, while his gaze traveled over the familiar kitchen. Everything was the same. The brightly painted red and yellow cabinets, the well-scrubbed wooden floor, the little lacy curtains with one row of red and one row of yellow rickrack sewed at the bottom. The old black cook stove in the corner was radiating heat, the copper tea kettle atop singing gently as the water inside bubbled for tea. Daniel's gaze went instinctively toward a spot just behind the stove and he laughed out loud. "Ma, kittens?"
She followed his gaze and shrugged. "Oh, that cat! Always running around getting himself into trouble. The Farley's told me if their cat had one more litter, they's mine to raise. So, here they are." She paused, glancing at the orange balls of fur. "Cute little things though."
"Yeah, they are. At least if anyone at the orphanage asks for a kitten for Christmas, I'll know where to get one," Daniel said. He rose and hunkered down by the cardboard box to stroke the soft felines.
"The orphanage?" his father echoed, sauntering into the room. "Old Mac's got you playing Santa again, don't he?"
Daniel laughed. "Yes. He saw me get off the bus in town and grabbed me." He hesitated, the smile fading from his face. "Sondra still playing Santa's elf?"
There was a moment of silence before Daniel's mother answered. "No, Danny. Sondra…well…she up and married Farley's boy some months back. They moved away to the city."
"Oh." Daniel was quiet for a moment, then shrugged and rose. "So, who replaced her?"
"Oh, Danny, you're gonna like this one," his father said with a wide grin. "She's something special, this one is. Real cute and real sweet."
"Oh, papa, how do you know?" mother said.
"Cuz I talked at her, dangit! The other day when I was in town. She's a nice girl. You remember that, Danny. She's a real nice girl. Real sweet."
Daniel nodded, then chuckled and sat down to breakfast.
Two weeks later, Daniel adjusted his Santa's hat and took his place on Santa's throne. He had not met the new elf yet. In fact, he had made it a point not to. He just wasn't ready to meet anyone. Sondra was still a painful hole in his heart. But when he saw the elf enter the room, his breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful! Tall and lithe, her elf's costume showed off her figure to the best advantage. Her long black hair flowed down her back, reminding Daniel of a raven's wings. It seemed all the colors of the rainbow were hidden in the black tresses. She turned large, expressive green eyes on him and her small mouth turned up in a smile of greeting. Daniel was speechless. He swallowed hard and tried to at least nod in return.
The day went by quickly, too quickly in Daniel's mind. The children were excited, their high-pitched voices filling the room as they hovered around him, asking questions, giving their wishes and hugging him so tightly he thought he would faint. It was a wonderful day, made more so by the presence of his helper elf. He hadn't had a chance to talk with her at all and was hoping to do so after the party. He hurriedly changed back into his regular clothes and returned to the party room. But she was gone. With a sigh, he began the walk home.
The night was cold, the air still and crisp. It hung over the snow covered landscape like glass, encasing all in peace and beauty. Daniel took the long way home, pausing on the old wooden bridge that crossed Stentlers Creek. He gazed down at the thin layer of ice and the water bubbling underneath. An image of the elf's beautiful face smiled back up at him. God! He had only just met her! How could he have such feelings! He didn't even know her name!
"It's Ella," came a soft voice.
Daniel whirled with a gasp. The 'elf' stood not more than five steps away. He had never even seen her approach. He calmed his rapid breathing, tried to calm his pounding heart. "H…hello," he stammered, then chastised himself for sounding like a schoolboy.
She smiled and came to stand beside him. "I don't think you sound like a schoolboy at all," she said.
Daniel stared at her in shock. She was reading his thoughts! "H…how…are you…" he could not seem to get his words out.
Ella laughed, the sound reverberating lightly, gently through the icy air. "It's a gift," she explained. "Most elves can do it. I seem to be better at it than some. Does it bother you?"
"N…no," he returned. "Elf?" He was thoroughly confused.
"Yes. I'm the real one. A real elf." Ella appraised him through her clear green eyes. "Does that bother you?"
Daniel didn't know how to respond to that question. He shook his head in bewilderment.
Ella giggled. "I can prove it," she said. "Make a wish. Any wish and I'll grant it. Provided, of course, it's a reasonable wish."
Daniel found his voice. "No. No, that's all right. I…I guess in a way, my wish has already come true. I was hoping to get the chance to talk to you. Now, I have. Are you from around here?"
"No, silly. I told you, I'm an elf. I'm from the North Pole. We go out occasionally to help out with a good cause. I heard about your little town here losing its elf. I thought I would take the job. I had no idea that I would meet such a handsome Santa though."
Daniel felt the color rise to his cheeks. This was crazy! He was crazy! And yet…somehow he believed her. He shook himself and glanced back down at the stream. After a moment, he looked at her. "Would you like to join me for a hot chocolate?"
She nodded. "I'd like that very much." She linked her arm through his and together they returned to town.
The next two weeks went by in a heady rush for Daniel. He was deliriously happy. He had fallen completely in love with Ella. They had spent every spare moment together. He had brought her home to meet his parents and she had spent Christmas day with them, though he was puzzled by her absence on Christmas eve. He hadn't been able to find her anywhere. She had told him she had to work, but she hadn't been at the orphanage and she had never said anything about another job. Still, Christmas day, she had showed up at his parent's house and the day was spent in warm celebration.
Now, he stood in his bedroom, staring dismally at the packed duffel bag at his feet. He was leaving that afternoon. Going back to his station in Brazil, back to the oppressive heat and the loneliness that had been his life since leaving this little town and Sondra. It wasn't fair! He had finally found the love of his life and he had to leave. He had quizzed her time and again on where she lived. He wanted to at least write her, maybe even call her. He just didn't want this relationship to end. He loved Ella with all of his heart and soul.
Yet, she was steadfast in telling him that the North Pole was her home, and that they would be together. He didn't see how. Not unless she was planning on moving to his base in Brazil. He rose and walked to the window to stare out over the white fields. He wished with all of his heart that he could just stay here, be with her, marry her, raise a family, have his own little cardboard box filled with kittens. With a heavy sigh, he turned toward his duffel bag, then stiffened at the sound of the doorbell. Ella? Heart pounding, he tore down the stairs, only to see his father closing the door.
"Hey, Danny," the old man said, "you got a telegram. Looks official." He handed the white and blue envelope to Daniel.
With a frown of puzzlement, Daniel opened it. He read the brief note with a gasp, then burst into wild laughter. His parents stared at him in concern and confusion. Daniel leapt about the room in giddy joy. "I've been reassigned!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "I've been reassigned to the North Pole!"
