Tuesday, 30 September 2014


Currently a free promotion is running on my hot historical romance Midnight Caller. The first novella in the Moonlight Romance series is free on Amazon and iTunes.

I love star-crossed lovers.  Romeo and Juliet is probably the most famous example. Although I much prefer when the lovers find a way to make their forbidden romance work! I always like to root for the underdog, and as individualist I get excited when characters dare to break society’s rules.
I write historical romance… and while star-crossed lovers can exist in every genre they are more prevalent in historical romance. A common off-shoot of this trope is loving above one’s station. Whether it is the maid falling in love with the millionaire, the jester falling in love with the princess or the commoner falling in love with the socialite they can all make me sigh with pleasure.
Since this is my favorite trope I think it is only natural that I have tried my hand at it.
Midnight Caller uses this trope, but it is actually based on a true incident I read a history book. :)


When Emma Bennett’s husband dies in a carriage accident in 1865, she is released from her loveless, controlling marriage. Now she has a chance to find happiness and raise a family. But before she begins courting again she wants to experience her freedom. At the advice of the leading socialite in town, she takes a black lover to fulfill her sexual needs. His raw, masculine power awakens feelings she didn’t know existed. After the first touch she craves more.

Frederick works as a roustabout by day and moonlights as a prostitute. He knows better than to fall in love with his white client, but Emma enchants him the first time he calls on her. To keep them both safe, he works hard to put up barriers. Unfortunately, he can’t protect Emma from the slimy Mr. Hawthorne, who wants her as his bride. Frederick vows to keep her safe even if his forbidden love costs him his life.


“You know, Mr. Hawthorne is interested in you.”

Emma gave a slight nod. Everyone in town knew Mr. Hawthorne was interested in her. Hank had forbidden the telegraph operator to come around her again, but now Hank was gone, would he pursue her?

“Mr. Hawthorne is a respectable man,” Mrs. Dimshire said.

A throbbing pain began above Emma’s left eye. Surely, the old lady wouldn’t try to set them up. Out of all the eligible bachelors in town…with his thinning auburn hair and long, homely face, he was as attractive as a gnarled tree. She couldn’t imagine sleeping next to him. Her lungs compressed, making each breath a chore.

“He isn’t my type,” Emma squeaked out. He was worse than Hank. He would be more than demanding and controlling. He would be jealous and overbearing, maybe even violent.

She picked up her cup again, hoping the tea would be soothing. It wasn’t. Her hands shook and she set the cup down before she spilled it on the white lace tablecloth.

Mrs. Dimshire’s wrinkled hand grabbed her wrist tenderly. Emma’s heart punched her ribs. The touch was probably meant to be comforting, but she felt trapped.

“Do you know how I get through each day without Connor?”

Emma shook her head.

“Whenever I feel the need to have a man next to me, I satisfy that need.”

Emma’s eyes bulged. Had the leading socialite in Louisville just said she shared her bed with a variety of men? But there would have been gossip, surely. No one had said a word.

Mrs. Dimshire’s eyes were sincere and she spoke as matter-of-factly as if she had just ordered a cut of beef from the butcher.

“I know you are not ready to remarry.” The older woman’s fingers slipped away from her skin. “But I thought you might like some male company once in a while.”

A thrill rushed from Emma’s head to her toes. Being with a man, no-strings attached. All the power and freedom she wanted. She could control the affair.

“Ah, I see the glow in your eyes,” Mrs. Dimshire said. “Yes, it is exciting and invigorating for a woman to take charge. I can tell you where to go. No one will ever find out.” Mrs. Dimshire paused and leaned back in her brown-and-burgundy striped chair. “And I trust you will keep my secret.”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course.” Going against Mrs. Dimshire would be social suicide.

“There is one thing though that might dissuade you,” Mrs. Dimshire said and then dabbed her lips with a linen napkin. “The men are colored.”

If you haven’t checked out my Moonlight Romance series yet here is your chance!

Buy Links:


Haley Whitehall lives in Washington State where she enjoys all four seasons and the surrounding wildlife. She writes historical fiction and historical romance set in the 19th century U.S. When she is not researching or writing, she plays with her cats, watches the Western and History Channels, and goes antiquing. She is hoping to build a time machine so she can go in search of her prince charming. A good book, a cup of coffee, and a view of the mountains make her happy. 

Visit Haley’s website at http://haleywhitehall.com.

Where to find Haley Whitehall:

Tuesday, 23 September 2014

Paranormal Activities - Week Seven - A very nice chutney

She smiled, satisfied with the pungent aroma of Christmas. Cinnamon and apples, wild plums and sultanas.
She loaded the apples into the pan, glanced up as her husband shook the wet from his fur before shifting into his human form. Stark naked, his warm eyes twinkled at her from across the kitchen.
“Good run?”
“Hmmm, Zeke raced me. I won.”
“Of course you did.”
He stepped closer, sending a river of longing through her veins. “Smells like Christmas.” The deep resonance of his Irish voice tempted her to abandon her project.
“I won’t be long. Once I put this little bag in the pan, it just needs to simmer for around three hours.”
“Three hours.” His eyebrows raised, gave a little twitch. “I’ll be in the shower.
She leaned over the counter to admire his swift swagger and his very fine ass.

The recipe


Friday, 12 September 2014

Lila’s Wolf blog tour

The one with Richard Hammond and the exotic food

You know what it's like when you go on a foreign holiday, and the food is unfamiliar, and you aren't sure what to eat. Everything looks strange, especially if you're not used to adventurous food. I loved one of the Top Gear specials, where the guys were riding a variety of motorbikes across Vietnam. Richard Hammond had a deep mistrust of the local food, and ended up eating breakfast cereal. All the time. I couldn't help feeling sorry for him.

In my new time travel series, that would be a constant problem for my travellers. They can't exactly take their own food with them, when they go hundreds of years back in time. They're supposed to be fitting in with the locals, and embedding themselves fully in the period, and that means eating the local cuisine.

How do you cope with exotic food? Do you dive in and try anything, or dig through the menu for something safe? Tell me in the comments, and you'll go into a draw to win the blog tour giveaway.

In Lila's Wolf (Out of Time #1), it's the opposite problem for Jared. He'll eat pretty much anything, if he can get it.


A quick glance at Hilde. She gorged on a bowl of rabbit stew, a trickle of gravy dribbling down her chin. It smelled good, and his stomach growled, reminding him it was a long time since breakfast, not that he’d been given much. The slaves were fed a thin gruel and rough bread in the morning, and then whatever leftovers were available for supper. As a diet, it sucked. He tried to supplement it by stealing the odd cup of milk or piece of fruit, but that was risky at best.

Hilde spoke to him, and he dragged his attention back, catching the last words. More bread. He nodded and stepped into the main floor space, heading for the back wall to the table laden with food. He kept his eyes downcast, hands loose by his sides, maintaining the protocols that had been beaten into him.

My name is Jared, and I will be free again.

The temptation to rip off an extra chunk of bread was immense. He entertained a brief vision of cramming it in his mouth unseen, filling his empty belly without Hilde knowing, and then he sighed and dismissed it as a pleasant fantasy. He had a lot of those and most were about Lila.

Lila’s Wolf (Out of Time #1) is available 4 September 2014, from Hartwood Publishing

Genre: Dark time-travel romantic suspense


The only way to save him, might be to leave him behind


When Lila Cammell is abandoned by her time-jump partner, leaving her alone in Britain in the Dark Ages, revenge is the only thing on her mind. She’d trusted Jared Grohl with her life and her heart, and bringing him to justice will be sweet.
Finding him captured and enslaved by the Saxons changes all her assumptions. Now it’s a fight for survival, but the only way to save him, might be to leave him behind.

Video trailer


I’m giving away a $10 Amazon gift card and a swag bundle to one lucky commenter. Just leave a comment at whichever site you visit, and you’ll go into the draw. The more sites you visit, the more chances you get to win J


Catch me blogging with Allyson Lindt at www.GeminiGirls.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Sofia.Grey.Romance.Author
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/sofiagrey1/
Twitter: @SofiaGreyAuthor

Blog Tour – find me here:

Blog post


Google & conspiracy theories
Vampire bonding & eye colours


Picture books & virtual streets

TARDIS & the grassy knoll
Solar powered fridges & the right dress


Battlefield & giant library
Richard Hammond & exotic food



Ghardians & timelines
Fluffy plans & dark ideas

Time travel & love stories


Paradox & runaways
Beautiful society & Ghardians

Loophole & ideas file

Rosemary Sutcliff & history classes

Loralie Hall        
Tetris & good bathrooms


Giant library & dodgy Utopia

About Author

Romance author Sofia Grey spends her days managing projects in the corporate world and her nights hanging out with wolf shifters and alpha males. She devours pretty much anything in the fiction line, but she prefers her romances to be hot, and her heroes to have hidden depths. When writing, she enjoys peeling back the layers to expose her characters’ flaws and always makes them work hard for their happy endings.
Music is interwoven so tightly into my writing that I can’t untangle the two. Either I’m listening to a playlist on my iPod, have music seeping from my laptop speakers, or there’s a song playing in my head – sometimes on auto-repeat.

Check out my playlists on Pinterest


Wednesday, 10 September 2014


Hi Libby it’s lovely to meet you and congratulations on your new release PASSIONATE HISTORY.  I’m really pleased you have brought Professor Worthy *strokes the sleeve of his jacket*  with you. Pull up a chair, grab a coffee and please excuse me while I *sigh, takes another stroke of his arm* …ask, Aidan (I can call you Aidan can’t I?) some questions.

Aidan, it’s lovely to meet you.
Uh, thanks, Diane, it’s lovely to be here.

Can you tell me how you first felt when you met Bree?
Bree was a breath of fresh air – young, vibrant, and enthusiastic about learning about Italian Renaissance art—my speciality.

Was she one of your students?
Er, yes, she was in my class the last semester of her senior year. Then we lost touch for a while, but she found me again at her five-year reunion.

You must have young women *gulp, touches Aidan’s arm yet again* throwing themselves at you all the time. How do you deal with that on a professional basis?

Well, I don’t…I mean, I haven’t really noticed…most of my students are very professional, just as I strive to be. There’s an implicit trust between a teacher and a student and I have an ethical duty not to break that trust.

What inspired you to become a teacher?
I love sharing my knowledge with thirsty minds, and I learn something new from my students every day.

What was the very first thing that attracted you to Bree?
Her legs. No, her hair. No, her wit. Um. Can I just say she’s the complete package?

Describe your first kiss.
Well, that’s rather private. But I will say it was utterly unexpected and utterly thrilling.

Okay, take a few breaths to calm down, and then tell me what Bree looks like.
Bree is fresh as a spring lily and strong as steel. Her hair is a luscious auburn, like a bewitching fairy’s. Her legs are long and she likes to show them off by wearing tiny little sundresses. I love them. The sundresses, I mean. And her legs, too, of course.

How would she describe you?
Endearingly stuffy, I suppose.

Tell us about what you are wearing today.
Oh, the usual. Trousers. Blue button down shirt. Loafers. It’s quite hot and humid in Massachusetts at the moment, so I’ve left my tweed jacket at home.

What does she love about you the most?
I think Bree loves that on the outside I’m a dedicated, passionate teacher and lover of the arts, but she gets to see the side of me that I don’t show to anyone else – passionate about her, and passionate about making her feel amazing.

What makes her want to throttle you?
Ah, well, I’m not always sensible when it comes to mixing business and pleasure. We had quite a few kinks to work out in that department, but I think it call came out in the end.

Now I’ve got to get back to my Art History 101 lecture. 
Thank you for having me, Diane.

Passionate History
by Libby Waterford

A contemporary erotic romance novella

On the eve of her college graduation, Bree Ross seduces her favorite art history professor. She doesn’t expect buttoned-up Professor Worthy to give her the best sex of her life, or anticipate that leaving him to start her post-college life would be so difficult. Their unforgettable encounter haunts her, and five years later, she finds herself back on campus for her college reunion—with a specific goal in mind. How hard could it be to convince her ex-professor to write her a letter of recommendation for graduate school?

Straight-laced Professor Aidan Worthy has adhered to his carefully-aligned morals his entire teaching career…until Bree Ross walks into his classroom. Guilt plagues him for his one transgression because that one amazing night has been seared onto his brain. When she waltzes back into his life after five years of silence, he’s not thrilled. But he can’t deny the illicit spark they once shared has not disappeared, and he worries he won’t be able to resist temptation a second time.

Over the course of the tumultuous reunion and commencement weekend at Weston University, rain, relatives, and rental cars force the two to confront their sizzling desire and burgeoning feelings. Is their passionate history enough to keep them together, or will it drive them apart?

Get Passionate History

Short blurb:                                                                                                                               

On the eve of her college graduation, Bree Ross crosses a blurry line and seduces her favorite professor. Aidan Worthy has never been able to erase the guilt, or the erotic memories, from his one night with Bree. After five years, neither of them is thrilled to find their paths intersecting again, but they can’t deny the illicit spark between them lives on.

About the Author:

Libby Waterford writes steamy contemporary romances. She lives in Los Angeles with her family and works off her weekly pilgrimage to In-N-Out by swimming and climbing the city’s hidden staircases.

Contact Libby:

Email: libby@libbywaterford.com
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/libbywaterford

Enjoy the following excerpt for Passionate History:

“Professor—Aidan,” she said, sounding embarrassed.
Good. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to find my rental car. I think I parked it somewhere around here, and I can’t exactly remember what it looks like.”
“Can’t you click the remote key? If it’s nearby the lights will go off when you unlock it.” There, his brain had produced a sensible suggestion, even as it occupied itself with cataloguing her scent, the tired smudges under her eyes, and the curve of her hips outlined by a flowy skirt.
“I would, except the only car left on the lot was some micro-budget sedan. I can’t remember the model.” She held her key out to him. “No remote entry.”
“Can you call the rental car company?”
“I tried. They’re closed.”
Aidan stood in the street, staring at her. Bree Ross. Former student. Former lover. It was unbelievably frustrating how much he still desired her. But perhaps this was the universe telling him he had a second chance to be a gentleman.
“Well, you can’t go around looking in every car on campus. You’ll get arrested. Come on, I can give you a ride.”
“Oh, no, thanks. I can walk.”
“It’s pitch black and about to rain. I’m not letting you walk anywhere alone tonight.”
“I can go to the green, to the dance. I can catch a ride with a friend.”
“Then I’ll walk you to the dance.”
“That’s all right—”
“Bree.” His voice was a warning. “Don’t be an idiot. Let me help you.”

Tuesday, 9 September 2014

Paranormal Kitchen Activities Week 6 - Fruit Cake Recipe & A Free Book

“Hmm, something smells good.”
He nuzzled his face into the curve of her neck absorbing her scent. She always smelled sweet and womanly.
“It’s a boiled fruit cake.”
“A boiled cake?”
Her body moved with the chuckle and he tightened his arms around her to appreciate it more, he snuggled her back closer to his chest as he peered over her shoulder.
“Yep, it’s easy, see.” She fluttered fine, long fingers at the cake.

It looked normal enough. The smell had his mouth watering. Then again, her smell had his mouth watering too. He was torn. Grab the babe and run for the bedroom or sample the cake? Could he have his cake and…
Her sharp elbow to his ribs grabbed his attention again.
“See, you dump all the ingredients into a pan, sultanas, raisins, cherries, water, butter, sugar. Boil it up for 15 minutes. Take it off the heat and when it’s cool, you simply throw in an egg, flour and spices. Pop it in a tin and bake for an hour.”
She sliced the cake in two. Showed him the middle.

“Would you like some?”
His attention shot back to her. Heat raged through him as his sexy new wife swiped her tongue over her top lip.
“It’s very…moist.”

And right there and then, he lost his capacity to think.

The Recipe
3oz (75g) Sultanas
3oz (75g) Currants
3oz (75g) Raisins
3oz (75g) Cherries
4oz (100g) Sugar
4oz (100g) Butter
1/4 pt (125ml) Water 
1 egg
8oz (200g) Self-raising flour
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/4 tsp nutmeg

Place all dried fruit, sugar, butter and water in a pan and simmer gently for 15 minutes. Remove from heat and cool. Beat in the egg, fold in the flour and spices. Turn into a lined loaf tin and bake in the oven at 150oC (300oF) Gas mark 2 for 1 hour.

A Note from the Author

If you haven't yet heard, Loving Lydia, book 1 of my Atlantic Divide Series is FREE right now from Apple and Amazon. Grab yourself a copy, eat cake, drink coffee, read a book.

Tuesday, 2 September 2014


The bittersweet smell of dark chocolate filled the kitchen, making his mouth water almost as much as the curvy woman swiping the melted goo over sheets of acetate.
“You need to let it cool a little before you put it on or it curls the sheets.”
With a delicate hand she slid the sheets into the fridge to set. Her warm cinnamon eyes met his.

“You don’t need to watch.”
He rested his elbow on the counter and grinned.

“Yeah, I do.”
Her responding smile made his heart warm.
He watched her cute butt-wiggle while she measured ingredients into the mixer, shimmying to the sound of Adele with a fire in her heart. Much like the one in his.
Thick chocolate frosting was whipped up then smoothed all over the three tier cake. Tempted to dip his finger in, he raised his hand.

“Don’t think about it.”
Like he wouldn’t dream of it, he rested his chin on his hand as though that had been his plan all along. She knew him so well, the gleam in her eye told him so.

She slipped the sheets of chocolate out of the fridge, used a tape measure and efficiently ran a pizza cutter through the partially set chocolate.
“You measure all around each cake, divide the measurement by however many panels you want.”
Hmmm, bright as well as artistic. She slipped them back in the fridge.
Amazed at the efficient swooshing of frosting all over the cake, he shuffled in his chair to get a little closer, delighted when she handed him the bowl to scrape out.
“Should you have chocolate?”
“I thought it wasn’t good for dogs.”
Insulted he whipped his head up and stared at her.
“I’m not a dog, I’m a wolf – and currently I’m in my human form. Chocolate is good. Do not try to deprive me of it.”
She turned her back, but he still heard her soft snort.
The bowl full of half dipped strawberries had almost the same result on his taste buds as the chocolate, but nothing could compete with the effect the woman had on him.
Quick and proficient, she removed the chocolate panels from the fridge, touching them to the sides of the frosting so they stuck.
“It’s a bit like glue.”
“Tasty glue.”
Removing a round panel from the acetate, she slipped it on top of the chocolate fudge cake.
“It needs a little more security, because the sponge is so soft it may not be able to hold the strawberries.”
She piled them in so it gave the effect of an overflowing basket, then placed single strawberries on the ledges of the next two layers.
A quick swipe of dark chocolate on the exposed board, then she whipped a pretty ribbon around and stuck it down.
“Ta Da!”