Diane Saxon Blog Spot

Kilchoan, Mainland Scotland 1672 Swathes of wet hair clung and tangled around her face in a heavy curtain, enough to obscure her view as another spasm seized her. Pain far worse than she’d ever imagined wrenched through her, and clutched deep into her belly to tear at her insides. Pride refused to allow her to cry out. As she surfaced, she snatched another lungful of air. The frigid waters chilled her to the bone, sending a fresh rash of shudders through her between each painful contraction. The villagers crowded closer, faces twisted with fear and rage. People she’d known all her life, people she loved. Women she’d tended in childbirth, and men whose wounds she’d healed. The sentiment turned vicious as the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon rose in the darkened sky. After a full day of her tied to the ducking stool, their disgust in her was palpable at not obtaining the confession they sought. How could she confess to something that wasn’t true? She’d ne...

“Are you about to stand there all day dreaming of things that’ll never happen, or will you grab hold of the young deputy and shear the hair off him?”  Heat swarmed up her neck into her face to burn her cheeks while the quiet snickers of her aunt’s patrons heated her ears. “But, I thought you…”  “You thought wrong, sugar. I’m in the middle of curling Ms. Stewart.”  It wouldn’t take her aunt long, and then she’d leave the woman’s perm to cook so she’d be free to cut Sean’s hair, but there was no point in arguing. It would only make her look stupid. Or scared. And she was neither. She raised her chin. She’d sorted the deputy out before; she could do it again. She tilted her head to one side, almost blew a bubble with her gum in childish rebellion, but knew the response she’d get from her aunt.  Unable to turn and face him, she watched him through the mirror. “You want to take a seat?”  In no apparent rush, Sean unfurled his long limbs from the low ...

Kilchoan, Mainland Scotland 1672 Swathes of wet hair clung and tangled around her face in a heavy curtain, enough to obscure her view as another spasm seized her. Pain far worse than she’d ever imagined wrenched through her, and clutched deep into her belly to tear at her insides. Pride refused to allow her to cry out. As she surfaced, she snatched another lungful of air. The frigid waters chilled her to the bone, sending a fresh rash of shudders through her between each painful contraction. The villagers crowded closer, faces twisted with fear and rage. People she’d known all her life, people she loved. Women she’d tended in childbirth, and men whose wounds she’d healed. The sentiment turned vicious as the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon rose in the darkened sky. After a full day of her tied to the ducking stool, their disgust in her was palpable at not obtaining the confession they sought. How could she confess to something that wasn’t true? She’d never consorted...

A part of me saw her as a delicate beauty that needed protecting. But she wasn't a flower that gets torn apart in a storm; she was the storm. Before it’s over, someone will die. Attacks are coming from all sides: arrests, sabotage, picketing, even being framed for murder. Who is the invisible force behind it all? And what secrets has Joe Bishop been keeping about both Adriane’s and Alec’s pasts? Available November 4 th . Preorder: Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076BPWKC7 Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/forever-the-storm

Amazon.com  http://amzn.to/2x7oagv Amazon.uk http://amzn.to/2xXHsc6 Deserted by her boyfriend, labelled a tramp, and thrown out of her family home, 16-year-old, pregnant, Dani Westin leaves behind a life she would rather forget. In a small town, where relationships are close and gossip rife, Dani tries to find a place for her and her daughter, despite the early influences of her own upbringing, and the cruelty of her mother. With help from Aunt Jessie, and Hairway to Heaven, Dani works hard, keeps quiet, and flies under the radar, ever conscious of the town’s disapproval. Until the day she soaks the local Deputy Sheriff to the skin, grabs herself a whole load of unwanted attention, and appreciates what a real man is made of. After his first encounter with the defensive sixteen-year-old, Dani, Deputy Sheriff Sean Swann has kept his distance from the luscious hair stylist. Not afraid of the trauma she might inflict on his person, he’s more concerned by the damage ...