BWL Publishing New Releases November 2025

 

(4) Paul Grant | Facebook

A small city tackles big city problems. Murder and meth have come to Moose Jaw on the wave of a pandemic. While the police got after the killers, journalist Eleanor Bell digs into the deeper story of drugs, real estate and money laundering on a global scale.

edenmonroeauthor.com

It’s love at first sight for strong male lead, Pate Kavenagh, when he meets the bewitching redheaded beauty, Dinah Gladstone. But at what cost? Pate’s jilted girlfriend, Colleen Sullivan, is heartbroken and seeks payback in this historical love triangle where emotions run at boiling point.

And then calamity strikes this tall sexy breeder of fine horses, but the stakes have always been high during the Kavenagh family’s life and death struggles in 1879 New Brunswick.

A headstrong and handsome man, Pate never considered himself capable of murder until he met Dinah Gladstone. He also never believed such a woman could take him so close to the edge in this rollercoaster romantic suspense set in beautiful Eastern Canada.

EDITORIAL REVIEW by Victoria Chatham

Tomorrow at Daybreak by Eden Monroe

On the face of it, the story of Pate Kavanagh and Colleen Sullivan seems deceptively straightforward. In a rural area of late 1800s New Brunswick, this couple had been seeing each other over the course of two years. Although the Kavanaghs have a less-than-stellar reputation, everyone, especially Colleen, expects a wedding will happen. Sadly for her, Pate has his heart set on someone entirely different.

Throughout what follows, we see hopes rise and fall, dreams shatter, and learn much about Pate’s family background. Families come together to help support one another during the hot, dry days of summer. Caring for the animals comes first in the cool of the morning, followed by the dust and sweat of hay making. There is birth and death, loneliness resulting from misunderstandings, and despair in the face of finally emerging truths. There is dignity in the day-to-day lives of the people who inhabit the pages of this story, where love eventually finds its way.

In this book, I found echoes of Lucy Maud Montgomery’s writing, and I wish Eden Monroe every success.

Jessie Pyne (Author of The Banished World (The Dreamwing Trilogy #1) | Goodreads

When, blind attorney, Velvet Morgan sets out to fulfill a dying child’s wish to meet the infamous villain Red Cypher, she doesn't expect to uncover the rot beneath the Super Alliance’s polished image. As Velvet and Red Cypher work together to expose the truth, they become targets of the Alliance’s golden enforcer, Black Bullet. A hero with a deadly past tied to Velvet’s own. In a world where heroes kill in the shadows and villains hold tight to the last shreds of humanity, justice isn’t black or white; it’s red, black and blue.

Editorial Review by Nancy M. Bell

Review

Pyne has woven together a tale of superheroes and supervillains and mixed in a smattering of romance just to add spice. The problem is, it's hard to tell who is the villain and who is the hero, it keeps you guessing to the end.

Editor with BWL Publishing Inc

(4) Facebook

Time is of the essence.  Japanese forces are inflicting death and destruction in the Pacific theater with superior arms, position, and equipment.  Their intelligence experts easily break American communication codes. Working with newly recruited marines, Luke Kayenta is training eager students in top secret work. Soon the first group of Navajo code talkers will be sent overseas.    

Fellow O.S.S. operative Kitty Charante arrives for a visit to the operation and Luke’s home and family.  When Navajo horses become frenzied amid chaotic gusts called whirlwinds, fear and mistrust ignites the community. Recruitment of code talkers dries up.  The whole experiment is now in jeopardy. 

Is witchcraft in the air? Yes, but not from an ancient source.  Commander Helmut Adler has landed off a U-Boat from off the Gulf of Mexico.  Well-versed in Navajo traditions, he’s using any means necessary to stop the code program before it can be used to aid the American war effort. 

Luke and Kitty have a home front terror on their hands. They must trap their persistent enemy.  

 

“Charbonneau’s writing makes poetry of glances between lovers and kin…” -–Kirkus Reviews 

“Many will read for adventure and romance, others will find deeper themes of prejudice and and revenge to ponder.…”—Booklist 

“The reader will be fascinated by the tale of love and sacrifice, but will also be learning a wealth of history…” —The Literary Times 

J. S. Marlo - Author/Auteure

The discovery of a century old Model T at the bottom of a northern lake sends shock waves across multiple communities. Buried secrets, hidden scandals, and forgotten tragedies resurface, unleashing deadly threats.

Hauk Ludwig leads the salvage operation. After losing one of his men, he is forced to hire a new diver, Star Fisher. Her investigative skills, feisty attitude, and tumultuous past stir up conflicting feelings and strange events that throw Hauk’s life, and the life of his crew, into chaos.

Disfigured by a violent attack and haunted by recurring nightmares, Star finds solace in the silent depths. The relics she discovers on the sandy bottom links the sunken wreck to the unsolved disappearance of a rich heiress.

Danger lurks above and below the surface. To protect their future, Star and Hauk must unearth the truth before they become victims of the past.

Editorial Review by Nancy M. Bell

Deep Beneath the Surface is a fast paced mystery/thriller with all the expected twists and turns. The setting of underwater salvage and the unsolved murder adds spice to the plot, then throw in a bit of romance and intrigue and voila!. You'll want to keep reading until the end. A hard book to put down.

Editor with BWL Publishing Inc.

Angel Revenge — Books We Love Publishing Inc.

Anila, peaceful warrior woman, trained all her life in the desert, at the monastery of the Celestial Gate, to take the vows of the mighty Protectors. That’s all she’s ever known, all she ever wanted. But a cloud of black wings haunts her nightmares.

When a barbarian horde invades from the north, Bayor Khan seems unstoppable, determined to destroy everything in his path. Rumors of his cruelty make the most powerful princes tremble in their stone fortresses.

Anila is pulled into the inevitable clash as a prophecy unfolds, blurring the lines between good and evil, testing her resolve. Nothing is as it seems… An ancient enemy rises in the shadows, and the falling darkness threatens to engulf Anila and everyone she loves.

Frankenstein's Algorithm

 

Halloween always conjures monsters in the mind. Be they crawling from a swamp or of a more spectral nature, we’ve (Western Civilization) built a foundational mythos for all that goes bump in the night and focused this investigation of the uncanny on the 31^st of October.

Now, in no way does this mean that all these fear-based fabrications are real in any tangible sense, but merely constructs spliced together from the darker corners of our own psyche and natures.  This was just the case with Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. We’re all familiar with the story, both in background and analysis, so I’ll not beat that to death here, but what I’d rather do is pose a new parallel: Just as Dr. Frankenstein pieced together a living, self-aware abomination for his own ends and with little regard to the potential fallout, so even now we are doing with Artificial General Intelligence, and nothing could be scarier.

 

As I write this, numberless start-ups, corporations, tech companies, defence contractors, and whole nations are throwing hundreds of billions of dollars at the problem of bringing to life a digital Frankenstein (yes, I know its “Frankenstein’s monster”, but for brevity here, lets go with the colloquial).  The upside will theoretically be that whoever can evolve this beast and chain it to their will is going to win. At everything. An entity that can become logarithmically smarter in microseconds and who will be for all intents and purposes omniscient will be able to surveil, analyze, and influence using current infrastructure every aspect of our existence, from defence to finance to communications and social engineering.

 

There’s a big ‘IF’ here: namely that such an entity, which we will suppose to be self aware, can be chained at all. I fear we’re just as ignorant as Victor Frankenstein himself when he said, “A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me.” How’d that work out for our ambitious Dr.? The problem being that when this rough beast slouches off into the digital night to do as it will, you’ll not be able to rally a posse of townsfolk with pitchforks and torches to do it in.

 

The hubris of our species will see that this shall come to pass. Maybe not on the hundredth, or the thousandth, or the ten thousandth instantiation, but eventually the right patchwork of salvaged algorithms and neural nets will yield new life.  How this being will respond to our band of violent and fearful apes is basically a coin toss.

 

Sleep tight, my friends, this Halloween night, and fear ye well the ghost in the machine!

 

The Editor

 

The Garden of the Gulf by Eden Monroe

 

https://www.bookswelove.com/shop/p/playtime?rq=paranormal

Imagine finding a creepy old toy that had been hidden in a wall for more than a hundred years.

 

 

That little toy dog’s name is Wheelie, pictured here.  He was found while carpenters were carrying out renovations to restore Yeo House to its current destination as a historic property.  So when I was asked to write a novel for The Paranormal Canadiana Collection, I decided Wheelie would be the perfect fit. I called it Playtime, and it’s set in the beautiful Canadian province of Prince Edward Island (PEI).

Before I go any further I’ll share a brief snapshot of Prince Edward Island, a small Maritime island known as the Garden of the Gulf  — surrounded as it is by the sparkling waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. PEI, as it’s most commonly known, is just under thirteen kilometres away from eastern New Brunswick, via the Northumberland Strait, within the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

PEI is a charming little Island with its red soil and rolling green farmlands and parks, and there are any number of highlights that will make a visit there unforgettable. From historic Charlottetown, the capital of the smallest province in Canada, to the much-celebrated Green Gables of Anne Shirley storybook fame, there are countless must-sees. According to https://www.journeysandjaunts.com/things-to-do-in-prince-edward-island/, some of the Island’s attractions may fall a bit under the radar, but absolutely shouldn’t be missed. Such as Island Hill Farm in Hampshire with the opportunity to “cuddle baby animals”, or popular Cavendish Beach at sunset. How about indulging your sweet tooth with a cone or two of COWS ice cream, or enjoying the unique experience of a Ceilidh:

“A cèilidh is a traditional Scottish or Irish social gathering. It usually involves fiddling, step dancing, singing, Celtic music and even story telling. It is an experience that will give you a glimpse of the culture and it’s really good fun at the same time.”

PEI was once only accessible by boat, but in 1997 the Island and the mainland of New Brunswick became attached by a pretty remarkable bridge.

Says https://thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/confederation-bridge: “The Confederation Bridge is the longest bridge in the world crossing ice-covered water. The toll bridge spans a 12.9 km stretch of the Northumberland Strait connecting Borden-Carleton, Prince Edward Island, to Cape Jourimain, New Brunswick.

“With the contract in place engineers now had to design a 13 km long structure that would have to withstand the harsh winters, ice flows and high winds of the Northumberland Strait. In addition, the contract with Ottawa stipulated the bridge would have to last 100 years — about two times longer than the average lifespan for bridges.”

 

 

During the winter this bridge sits in solid ice.

     It can be said there’s something for everyone on PEI, including well-documented paranormal activity. I had several options to choose from for Playtime, but ultimately decided on Yeo House in Port Hill (Tyne Valley). It’s a bit of a drive along the Island’s less-travelled western end, but well worth the trip.

Restored to its former glory, the Yeo mansion was originally built in 1865 by wealthy shipping magnate, James Yeo Jr.  Yeo House contains a wealth of beautiful and unusual artifacts. Wheelie is one of those recovered treasures, and there’s also a most off-putting heirloom known as a cooling casket. Made entirely of wicker, as the name suggests its purpose was to allow a dead body to cool off before being sent to the undertaker. The idea was to ensure that the dearly departed were actually … fully departed before they were buried. As if that weren’t macabre enough, it also served a more practical function, especially during warm weather, and that was to prevent flies from … well, nuff said.

Yeo House was the perfect backdrop for Playtime, and I share once again the back cover blurb to get you into the story:

“Darkness is often the playground of the supernatural … the eerily unexplained.

Yeo House is a haunted country home in Eastern Canada’s beautiful province of Prince Edward Island. The stately seaside mansion of a shipbuilding magnate and his family in the 1800’s, it was given new life in the twenty-first century. During renovations something unusual was found hidden in the walls — a little toy dog on wheels. Now freed from his wall prison, it seems he’s still being played with by the ghost of the child who once owned him.

When little Della Sayer and her parents visit the historic Yeo mansion to see the famous Wheelie, the little girl makes a strange and powerful connection with the antique toy. It is an unsettling paranormal knowing, a kindred ethereal awareness….

Life for the Sayers will never be the same again.”

In Playtime, Della’s mother, Jill Sayer, is a bona fide skeptic, determined to find a logical explanation for the unnatural phenomena on the Island. A playwright, she has decided to spoof these supposed hauntings until she is gradually overtaken by strange happenings and can no longer look the other way:

 “Descending the stairs, still absorbing the atmosphere, she hoped to find one of the guides to ask about the toy dog. And then she heard it, an otherworldly shriek! Upstairs from where she’d just come. It sounded as though it was in one of the bedrooms.  She felt the hair rise on her arms and the back of her neck. It was probably the wind blowing in the cupola, but she felt a strange presence. It was something that if she tried to describe it, she wouldn’t be able to. It was a feeling, a … presence…”

Most of the weird stuff, experienced by staff and visitors alike, happens on the second floor of the mansion. I know, I had my own creepy experience there which I shared in an earlier blog:

https://bwlauthors.blogspot.com/2025/08/playtime-paranormal-canadiana.html

Sooo … why don’t you go on up the stairs and see for yourself…

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorEdenMonroe/

https://edenmonroeauthor.com

https://books2read.com/Playtime-Paranormal-Canadiana

 

Halloween-A European Ancestral Festival

 

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Around this time of year in Europe, long ago, the ordinary folks had already celebrated Harvest Home, bringing in grain from the fields and hogs from the forests. The barley, oats and wheat, gathered in, was measured. Now the community knew, more or less, how hungry the coming winter would or would not be. The light was disappearing day by day, the sun setting earlier and rising later, as the northern hemisphere angles away from that ancient God--or in Germanic countries, Goddess--the Sun.

This was a time to celebrate the beginning of a new year, and this season, one of the four most important of the solar year was observed with three days of ritual, full of deep spiritual meaning. We can tell how important this observance was because the Catholic Church, after that entity had firmly established its rule, took over the ancient celebration and gave each of those three autumnal days a new, canonical designation.

Halloween is a contraction of "All Hallows Eve," that falls on the evening before what is today called "All Saints Day." Originally, on that night, all the fires in the village would be extinguished. Everyone would huddle in the dark and increasing chill of their homes. On this night, only the priestly caste dared to be out and about, because, now without firelight, evil beings could be stalking through the villages, the fields and the forests on every side. Offerings, sometimes a bowl of milk, sometimes cakes, were left outside each door in hopes of appeasing the endless hunger of these dreadful creatures. 

Today, all that is left of that practice are our children, costumed and masked, dressed as supernatural beings, who knock on our doors and beg for candy. 

On the morning after, as the sun rose, each housewife would sweep and gather the ashes of the central hearth and dispose of these into the purifying safety of running water. At the same time, religious leaders, male and female, would rekindle each village's sacred fire. Once this was established, flaming boughs would be carried house to house, to rekindle each and every village hearth.  Afterward, everyone set to work to make a communal feast. This day, eventually renamed by the Church "All Saints Day," was then rededicated to Christian Saints. In pagan times, however, this day was the first of the New Year and pagan gods and goddesses were the ones celebrated.

The third day of the feast, later named "All Souls," was originally in honor of the ancestors. Ancestor worship still exists today here and there on planet earth, but 2,000 years ago, this was a universal feature of most religions. Bones of last year's deceased, previously de-fleshed in various ways, and subjected to cremation and temporary housing in pots, might be brought out of dwellings to be reverently interred within the local barrow or stone burial chamber. 

In some places/times, when barrows were the fashion, the great stones which blocked the openings would be laboriously moved so that the year's dead would be carried within, to rest with those ancestors who had gone before. The rituals of deposition for cremains varied from place to place and age to age. Cremains urns have also been discovered beneath standing stones. Others carpet the ditches which enclose stone or earthen monuments, or the ditches that still exist, still guarding a long perished henge made of wood. 

In the Norse tradition, this period, after the full moon of the Autumn Equinox, was celebrated as the Disirblot, a feast in honor of the ancestral female spirits who guarded the family line and also in honor of Freya Vanadis, their chief. The celebration was local and domestic, and was also a harvest home. The pig, often portrayed as the mount of Freya, provided the pork for the feast. 

Of course, there are as many traditions as there are countries for this time of year. Divali, the feast of lights, is celebrated in India by closing the books of the last financial year and opening those of the next. Laxshmi, goddess of good fortune and wealth, asked for Her aid in business. What is most visible, however, are the oil lamps that line the streets and float upon the rivers. Many other divinities are honored during this feast in the vast and populous country.  In some regions it is great Kali with her necklace of demon heads
(She who embodies primeval energy/change and creative destruction) that is honored, in others it is Durga, demon slayer, seated upon her tiger. The Warrior God Rama also gets into the Divali celebration, as his devotees know that in the times long ago, this was the season of his coronation.

~Juliet Waldron

My Not-Very-Scary Halloween Blog Post By Connie Vines #BWL #Zombies, #Halloween RomCom #Halloween Novella #FantasticHalloweenReads

 👻💀🎃🍫

My not very scary Halloween (October) Blog

As I've stated before, I'm a bit of a sissy when it comes to frightening stories, movies, etc.

My contribution is a portion of a current release, Here Today, Zombie Tomorrow.

I realize I'm not adhering to all the rules of an "All Hallows Eve" story... it is a RomCom, after all🎃👄

Opening Scene 

“You and Elvis have done a great job on this house," Meredith said as her older sister led the way downstairs toward the kitchen, where the tour began. “Sorry I couldn't get over, until now, but I've been sort of… well, busy."   Slipping her Juicy Couture tortoise-shell framed sunglasses into a bright pink case, Meredith crammed them into her black Coach handbag.  She hoped her sister didn’t ask her to define busy.  Becoming a zombie and dealing with the entire raised from the dead issue over the past six months was not a topic easily plunked into casual conversation. 

Pippa waved the comment aside. “I'm glad you like it. We had such fun decorating. Of course, we couldn’t do it all at once, but it's more satisfying putting it together treasure by treasure."

Meredith glanced from Pippa’s impish features and short spiky black hair to the perimeter of the room.  Taking in every detail and nuance of Pippa’s decorating talent, she let her gaze rest on a collection of figurines by fantasy artist Jasmine Beckett-Griffith crouching at the top of the ebony-stained cabinets.  A black arch-top fireplace mounted against the wall, flames flowing from a bed of clear river stones, and HOME SWEET HOME embroidered on a sampler with a tiny vine of blood-red roses tangling through the letters completed the focal point of the room.  

Even though Meredith was on the best of terms with her sister, she couldn't help but feel a sharp nip of jealousy.  It hadn’t been so long ago that she’d had her own happy home.  Unfortunately, she’d filed for divorce from Viktor, and then there’d been that bizarre little accident where she’d ended up dead, and then undead. 

While Pippa’s two kids, Ethan and Emma, played in the living room, to the accompaniment of a 1960s rock-and-roll musical on cable TV, Meredith sat in the kitchen with her sister, fiddling with the end of the tea bag that dangled from the rim of her China cup.

Since her sister was contemplating the contents of a tin filled with Danish cookies, Meredith found herself cataloging the events that led up to her ‘accident’.

A charter member of the SoCal Arts Association, she’d been participating in the annual Zombie Walk Festival in Long Beach when it ‘happened’. Crowds always made her uncomfortable, but this particular event was to raise money, so she was obligated to attend.   And it only made sense; this year’s participation broke all past records.  

Twelve thousand gleeful ghouls stormed Long Beach’s renovated Promenade.  The crowd became so large that it spilled out over Pine Avenue for an all-out downtown invasion.  Meredith didn’t recall much about the accident, nor who or what reanimated her.  She remembered overhearing a security officer informing a pungent-smelling zombie that he couldn’t purchase an alcoholic beverage (apparently, he didn’t match the photo ID). Within moments, a shoving match between the two men ensued, quickly escalating into zombie chaos:  shouting, running, and chomping. 

Chomping?

At the time, Meredith thought it was all part of the festivities, perhaps a little odd and definitely crazy.  Just like the cornstarch-based zombie vomit and fake blood, everyone had globbed and smeared on themselves, but hey, it was an Arts event. Even after finding herself wedged in the center of the zombie mob, lunging and bumping along until they were in sight of the pier, Meredith wasn’t overly concerned.

In hindsight, she may have been highly concerned.  Because the next thing Meredith knew, she was in a zipped body bag, feeling entirely not like herself.

No.  She wasn’t going to dwell on the past.  Again. She’d just keep muddling on with her life and try to focus on the bright spots.

Pippa and her family were a definite bright spot in her life.

 “I wish you would let me help with dinner,” Meredith said, pulling herself back into the present.  “I feel guilty just sitting here doing nothing while you do all the work.”  Being a vegan, Meredith found her transition to zombie-hood particularly exigent.  Brains, human or otherwise, had never been on her menu—now, protein, in fowl or bovine form, was a requirement of her reanimated state.  Difficult though it was, she had to come to terms with the change.  After discovering an underground support group that met monthly in a banquet room of a coffee shop near the I-10, she was thankful she didn’t require human protein like most of the other Zombies.  However, she discovered that consuming tofu with herbal tea (her lunch before reanimation) had unfortunate and unexpected side effects.

Pippa, turning from the stove with the pecan pie captured between two oven mitts, shook her head.  “Meri don’t even think about helping me with the meal.  When Elvis’s mom and dad decided to take a paddleboat cruise up the Mississippi, I thought I wouldn't have anybody but my own offspring to fuss over on Thanksgiving Day.  You just sit there and relax."

 "I really appreciate the invitation," Meredith said, glancing out the window to catch a Monarch butterfly pick its way along a lipstick red hibiscus blossom.  "Cooking turkey for one just isn't my style."

Pippa did a double-take at Meredith’s statement, but didn’t comment.  Instead, she said, “You’re welcome to come for Christmas dinner too, you know."

"Thanks, Pippa, but Christmas is out.  I have to finish the new book by February, so I'm driving up to Forest Falls tomorrow.  I'll be staying there for a month or so."

"Christmas at the cabin," Pippa mused.  "That sounds nice.   Are you sure you want to be up there all by yourself?"

 "I’m not hiding,” Meredith replied.

 "I know.  You’re healing. . .” She left the words: and licking your wounds, unspoken.  “I just don't want you to be lonely." 

"I won't be,” Meredith reassured her.  “I'm taking Gertie with me."

Pippa laughed indulgently and shook her head.  "A hamster doesn't count."

"Don't say that when Gertie’s within earshot.  She follows me all around the house in her exercise ball.  We’re BFs."

 “Well, I'm glad you could join us for Thanksgiving," Pippa said.

            ***

As Meredith surveyed the beautifully decorated dinner table, irony struck right between her eyes.  A lot had happened in the six months or so (being reanimated unexpectedly), and then there were all the hidden expenses.  Body moisturizers, specialty make-up loaded with anti-decay properties, hydrating beverages, bimonthly injections—to keep the virus semi-dormant so that she didn’t partake in some zombie flash-mob; or worst, (morph into a Hannibal Lector type wearing red stilettos, roaming the suburbs).  While she still had a lot to be thankful for, it was difficult adjusting to the significant changes in her life.

Her career, however, was something Meredith gave her stamp of approval.  After seven years as a struggling advertising/blog writer, she’d finally gotten her big break!  Not only was The Isis Factor published, but it was also a huge success!

 There were book signings, press parties, interviews, and even an e-book launching cruise.  Not bad, for a girl who worked her way through college waiting tables and writing nonfiction articles on spec.

The Luxor Papers, published a few months later, had been an even greater success.  Who would have ever thought that Meredith Misso, author of quirky short stories and nonfiction articles, would've found her niche in the Steampunk market (Steampunk: Victorian science fiction/fantasy—circa 1850 to pre-World War I, often set in London, England)?

“I really wish you'd reconsider and spend Christmas with us,” Pippa said later.  As she and Meredith took turns rinsing the dishes and loading the dishwasher, they worked efficiently. “I like the thought of you all alone in that cabin during the holidays.”

Meredith smiled, touched by her sister’s concern.  Same-old Pippa. It was reassuring that one part of her life hadn’t changed.  “Don't worry about me,” Meredith told her, readjusting her thick plastic gloves. “I'll be just fine.  Being alone is what every writer hopes for—a writer’s mantra, in fact.  Without interruptions, I can finish the book and maybe even start the next one.”

“Glad to see you’ve lost none of your ambition,” Pippa remarked, fitting a casserole dish on the top rack of the dishwasher.  I can't even imagine wanting to work right up until Christmas.”

Meredith shrugged, feigning indifference.  "It's just a day like any other," she said.

"Have you thought about calling Viktor?"

"No way, Pippa,” she snapped, yanking off her plastic gloves and placing them on the edge of the sink. 

“Touched a raw nerve, did I?”

Meredith looked down at her manicured fingertips, a small, sad sigh escaping her pale lips.  “It's over.   The divorce will be final soon, and that will be that.  Hopefully, I'll never have to deal with Doctor Viktor again." 

"I always thought Viktor was kind of sweet.  You know, reserved, serious—“

“Arrogant,” Meredith added.

“Not to mention smart,” Pippa countered, with a wink.

"That's because you didn't have to live with him, Pippa.  Trust me, there's nothing more irritating than a guy who knows everything from who flew the first paper airplane to what Genghis Khan had for breakfast the day he invaded Transylvania!" (Yes, Genghis Khan really did invade Transylvania. Meredith triple checked.)

"He couldn’t—“

“Pip—“

“I guess he could be,” she backpeddled. “But he sure is good-looking." 

Meredith gave a nod of agreement.  There was no arguing there.  Viktor was the most attractive and, unquestionably, the sexiest man she’d ever known.

Pippa watched her sister’s expression soften as she gave Meredith a questioning look.  "So, who's vying to replace your professor?" 

"Nobody," Meredith answered emphatically.  "For the time being," she grinned, "and you can quote me on this. I'm done with men."

Pippa, with her natural talent for meddling, shook her head.  "Meri, I don't know what to do about you!  At only 32, you don't look a day over 25.  You should be out having fun!”

Meredith resisted the urge to finger-comb her caramel-highlighted ‘surfer-girl’ hair.  Viktor had said she was his angel.  That was why she’d been blessed with her shining halo of golden hair, his reminder to keep on a heavenly, albeit somewhat boring, path.  She’d laughed, but she melted into his embrace, his deep, slightly accented baritone a loving rumble against her ear. The beginning of their relationship was magical.  Then everything seemed to change... 

 “You’ve got this marvelous career and money and everything that you could possibly want,” Pippa continued, jarring Meredith out of her thoughts, “and there's nobody in your life to share with."

"You mean I should have a couple of kids by now?" Meredith responded.  That was so not going to happen.

"You need a man to have kids, little sister."

 She almost said, "Zombies can’t reproduce," but stopped herself just in time.  Instead, she managed a convincing comeback. "Well, right now I'm not in the marriage market.  Believe it or not, I'm perfectly happy just the way I am."

Pippa’s expression shouted she seriously doubted that, but she allowed the topic to rest.  "If you say so,” she replied, good-naturally.  "How about a second cup of coffee to go with a slice of pecan pie?"

“It wouldn't be Thanksgiving without it," Meredith agreed.

#

I hope you enjoyed my "Halloween" teaser. The novel is available in an ebook via your favorite online book seller (Kindle, Apple, Smashwords, Amazon, etc.)

Currently, I'm in the rough-draft stage of "Bell, Book & Gargoyle," Book 2, in my Fun and Sassy Fantasy Series. (Pub date: October 2026).

Halloween Hack: Conjure up a fragrance for fall

1. Small caldron or mini crockpot to brew an autumn fragrance.

2. 2-3 cups of water

3. Add your favorite seasonal scents: apple slices, pumpkin pie spice, cinnamon sticks, cloves, vanilla extract, ground coffee, orange peels, etc.

4. Remember to keep an eye on your brew; add more water if it evaporates.

5. After your brew scents begin to fade and your caldron/crock pot cools, soak your cooking device in warm soapy water. The spices can stick to the sides; soaking will make cleanup easier.🔮

Available October 2026

Happy Reading, my Halloween Goblins :)

Connie 

Reminder:  Winter and the holidays are the perfect times to gift an audio or eBook for yourself :) Or several friends!

https://www.amazon.com/Today-Zombie-Tomorrow-Connie-Vines-ebook/dp/B00OA25GJY/ref=la_B004C7W6PE_

(or any of your favorite online bookstores)

Amazon Review

Badass Lioness

4.0 out of 5 stars Fun, not gory, zombie story with romance

Reviewed in the United States

Format: KindleVerified Purchase

This was a fun romp. I avoid zombie stories because of the gore, but this doesn't have any. The banter between her and her ex was fun, too. Meredith is 34 and, after an accidental zombie party bite, has become a zombie but eats like a human carnivore.

Her sexy, arrogant, and surprisingly kind ex shows up, and everything changes. He seemed to be different to her, or maybe she was noticing what had been there all along.

I would like to read more in the series as it seems to hint that there will more twists and fun with the paranormal genre. I feel that it will get even better as it goes on. The writing is very good.

Who doesn't love a cowboy?

New on Audible: Lynx, Rodeo Romance Book 1
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link to Amazon ebook ($2.99) 

Link  to both items:

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=lynx+by+connie+vines&i=audible&crid=35N2C5Y2FIERO&sprefix=lynx+by+connie+vines