Welcoming Rob Samborn and his book - The Prisioner of Paradise - to my blog

Today I'm welcoming Rob Samborn and his book - The Prisoner of Paradise (Book 1 of The Paradise Series) - to my blog as part of the blog tour hosted by The Coffee Pot Book Club (founded by Mary Anne Yarde)

Delighted to share an excerpt with you all, but first I will introduce the book.

The Prisoner of Paradise

The world’s largest oil painting. A 400-year-old murder. A disembodied whisper: “Amore mio.” My love.

Nick and Julia O’Connor’s dream trip to Venice collapses when a haunting voice reaches out to Nick from Tintoretto’s Paradise, a monumental depiction of Heaven. Convinced his delusions are the result of a concussion, Julia insists her husband see a doctor, though Nick is adamant the voice was real.

Blacking out in the museum, Nick flashes back to a life as a 16th century Venetian peasant swordsman. He recalls precisely who the voice belongs to: Isabella Scalfini, a married aristocrat he was tasked to seduce but with whom he instead found true love. A love stolen from them hundreds of years prior.

She implores Nick to liberate her from a powerful order of religious vigilantes who judge and sentence souls to the canvas for eternity. Releasing Isabella also means unleashing thousands of other imprisoned souls, all of which the order claims are evil.

As infatuation with a possible hallucination clouds his commitment to a present-day wife, Nick’s past self takes over. Wracked with guilt, he can no longer allow Isabella to remain tormented, despite the consequences. He must right an age-old wrong – destroy the painting and free his soul mate. But the order will eradicate anyone who threatens their ethereal prison and their control over Venice.

Trigger Warnings.

Violence, a rape scene, a torture scene.

Publication Date: 30th November 2021

Publisher: TouchPoint Press

Page Length: 333 Pages

Genre: Commercial Thriller, Historical Fiction, Magical Realism

You can purchase a copy of the book via -

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B09F8RYG2M

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09F8RYG2M

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B09F8RYG2M

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B09F8RYG2M

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/the-prisoner-of-paradise-1

iBooks: https://books.apple.com/gb/book/the-prisoner-of-paradise/id1593897696

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-prisoner-of-paradise-rob-samborn/1140407539

Now for the excerpt -

 Angelo’s breath caught in his throat. Siòra Scalfini differed dramatically from her friends. Her flawless olive skin was not powdered white. Her eyes smiled. They were sparkling, like polished marble, offering a reflection of himself in her dark pupils. But they weren’t marble—they were alive and vibrant, twinkling with innocence and sensuality simultaneously. Her glance pierced his soul. Angelo was overcome by her radiance.

Ivan prodded him and flourished his hand in introduction. “May I present Angelo Mascari, the finest young swordsman in La Serenissima.”

The woman bowed her lashes and extended her gloved hand. Angelo took it and brought it to his lips. The embroidered white leather smelled exquisitely floral but with a stronger scent mixed in, possibly cinnamon or pepper.

“I am enchanted, my lady,” said Angelo.

Her eyes widened. “Are you suggesting I am a witch, sir?”

“What?”

“That I can enchant you with a spell?” Isabella continued in a solemn tone.

“My lady, no.” Angelo stumbled for the words. “I meant—”

“How he blushes,” Isabella said, giggling along with her friends. “At ease, my good man. I only tease.”

She locked eyes with Angelo over their joined hands. He swayed back. Her contemplation of him felt deeply intimate, though a moment prior she had been playfully mocking him.

A pleasurable sort of queasiness rolled through Angelo’s gut. He was reluctant to release her fingers, but Ivan tugged at his sleeve.

“There you are.” A loud voice resonated from behind the group. Renzo Scalfini took his place at his wife’s side.

Ashamed, Angelo dropped her hand at once.

“Siòr Mascari,” said Ivan. “Allow me to introduce Siòr Renzo Scalfini.”

Angelo fought to regain his composure. “Happy Christmas, siòr,” he managed, extending his hand to Renzo.

Renzo narrowed his eyes, not reciprocating the salutation. “This is the swordsman you were squealing like washer girls about?” he asked Vito and Ivan.

Vito laughed off the insult. “One of the Republic’s most promising. He’s in need of a sponsor. Are you not, Angelo?”

“It would be an honor,” he said to Renzo.

“I think not,” Renzo snapped. “You speak of honor, yet you have none.”

“Siòr?” Angelo asked, shocked at this accusation. “Have I offended you in some manner?”

“You gape at my wife with lecherous eyes and have the audacity to ask if I have been offended? Not only do you lack honor, but you also lack intelligence or sincerity. Or perhaps all three.”

The group stood stunned.

“Siòr Scalfini, I assure you, while your wife is a remarkable beauty, I had not an inkling she was your wife, nor anybody’s wife. You have my humblest of apologies.” With that, Angelo bowed low in deference but kept an eye on the lady.

Isabella lit up at Angelo’s description of her. Renzo noticed her reaction. “Come, Isabella,” he said, practically dragging her away.

The Bird Brothers exchanged a brief look of disappointment. They bowed their heads to the remaining women, then guided Angelo back to the other end of the hall.

“That did not go as planned,” Ivan said. He pulled Angelo’s ear to him. The man’s pungent breath reeked of wine. “You were expected to curry his favor now and seduce his wife later, not instantly repel him.”

“You have squandered this opportunity, Mascari,” Vito agreed.

Angelo watched Isabella, who had returned to her friends. His chest expanded with an unfamiliar ease. “All is not lost.”

“And how is that?” Vito asked. “He didn’t consider a sponsorship for an instant.”

“I do not need a man’s sponsorship to win a woman’s affection.”

Ivan and Vito followed Angelo’s gaze across the room. He was staring at Isabella, entranced.

As if she heard his mental call, she turned to him, smiled, and batted her eyelashes. He could have sworn that in that moment, something flickered in her eyes. Something… angelic.

Rob Samborn

In addition to being a novelist, Rob Samborn is a screenwriter, entrepreneur and avid traveler. He’s been to forty countries, lived in five of them and studied nine languages. As a restless spirit who can’t remember the last time he was bored, Rob is on a quest to explore the intricacies of our world and try his hand at a multitude of crafts; he’s also an accomplished artist and musician, as well as a budding furniture maker. A native New Yorker who lived in Los Angeles for twenty years, he now makes his home in Denver with his wife, daughter and dog. 

You can connect with Rob via these platforms -

Website: https://robsamborn.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RobSamborn/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RobSambornAuthor

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/rob-samborn/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/robsamborn/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/robsamborn

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-prisoner-of-paradise-the-paradise-series-book-1-by-rob-samborn

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Rob-Samborn/e/B09FQ4HCBY

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21829341.Rob_Samborn

You can learn more about the book and the author by visiting the other blogs on this tour. 

https://maryanneyarde.blogspot.com/2021/09/blog-tour-prisoner-of-paradise-paradise.html

That's it for now.

Till the next time.

Take care Zoe

 

 

 

 

 

 

Welcoming Kinley Bryan and her book - Sisters of the Sweetwater Fury - to my blog

 Today I'm welcoming Kinley Bryan and her book - Sisters of the Sweetwater Fury - to my blog as part of the blog tour hosted by The Coffee Pot Book Club (founded by Mary Anne Yarde)

Delighted to share an excerpt with you all, but first I will introduce the book.

Sisters of the Sweetwater Fury

Three sisters. Two Great Lakes. One furious storm.

Based on actual events...

It's 1913 and Great Lakes galley cook Sunny Colvin has her hands full feeding a freighter crew seven days a week, nine months a year. She also has a dream—to open a restaurant back home—but knows she'd never convince her husband, the steward, to leave the seafaring life he loves.

In Sunny’s Lake Huron hometown, her sister Agnes Inby mourns her husband, a U.S. Life-Saving Serviceman who died in an accident she believes she could have prevented. Burdened with regret and longing for more than her job at the dry goods store, she looks for comfort in a secret infatuation.

Two hundred miles away in Cleveland, youngest sister Cordelia Blythe has pinned her hopes for adventure on her marriage to a lake freighter captain. Finding herself alone and restless in her new town, she joins him on the season’s last trip up the lakes.

On November 8, 1913, a deadly storm descends on the Great Lakes, bringing hurricane-force winds, whiteout blizzard conditions, and mountainous thirty-five-foot waves that last for days. Amidst the chaos, the women are offered a glimpse of the clarity they seek, if only they dare to perceive it. 

Publication Date: 12th October 2021

Publisher: Blue Mug Press

Page Length: 324 Pages

Genre: Historical Fiction

You can purchase a copy of the book via this link -

Universal Link: https://books2read.com/sweetwaterfury

Now for the excerpt -

Cordelia and the crew of the Marguerite had been waiting almost twenty-four hours since dropping anchor Saturday night. They were far from alone. The twenty-five-mile-wide Whitefish Bay was dotted with anchored ships, an argosy sandwiched between gray flannel sky and dark choppy water. The snow fell and the wind gusted near forty miles an hour, and because whatever lay beyond the Whitefish Point Lighthouse was surely worse, they had waited. Most storms blew themselves out in three days, and so by Sunday afternoon Edmund expected the weather to improve at any moment. He was intent on leaving the bay for the open water of Lake Superior before nightfall.

So that the officers would be ready as soon as there was a break in the weather he had requested an early supper. The steward served beef hash and creamed carrots in the officers’ dining room. Edmund ate quickly, his mood soured. This trip had taken on an element of desperation; clearly he was anxious to avoid yet another late arrival. Cordelia had given up any pretense that this was a honeymoon, a chance to get to know her husband better. This was her husband’s job. His work was difficult to begin with, and the storm made it immeasurably harder. Edmund, never effusive, had no time for long conversations with his new wife.

It was her fault. Despite never having set foot on a straight decker, she’d assumed Great Lakes sailing, even on a bulk freighter in early November, would be a romantic endeavor. The daughter of a life-saving station keeper ought to know better! And now she found herself in a dark, vast bay at the eastern tip of the continent’s largest body of freshwater, waiting for a storm to end.

As they left the dining room at the ship’s stern, Edmund looked to the sky. Somewhere beyond the heavy cloud cover the sun was setting. The snowfall had ceased at last, the winds lessened. The storm’s worst had passed, he said, and it was time to leave Whitefish Bay. The snow had already put him a day behind schedule, and the owners wouldn’t be happy about that.

Cordelia was eager to cross Lake Superior, too, if only to hasten the trip’s end. She couldn’t rid her mind of those iced-over ships locking down at the Soo in a ghostly procession. She shivered despite her overcoat and gloves, despite Edmund’s arm around her as she held the lifeline. The gray sky darkened to charcoal, and the other waiting ships’ lights grew more distinct, points of yellow-white scattered across the bay.

In watching that expanse of dark water stippled with whitecaps, it wasn’t hard to imagine a fantastical sea creature like Mishipeshu rising up and thrashing ships with its gigantic tail. She’d read too many novels, as her mother would say, and they’d poisoned her mind. Be that as it may, Cordelia found a penny in her coat pocket and tossed it furtively into the water, an offering to the copper-loving Great Lynx.

Kinley Bryan

Kinley Bryan is an Ohio native who counts numerous Great Lakes captains among her ancestors. Her great-grandfather Walter Stalker was captain of the four-masted schooner Golden Age, the largest sailing vessel in the world when it launched in 1883. Kinley’s love for the inland seas swelled during the years she spent in an old cottage on Lake Erie. She now lives with her husband and children on the Atlantic Coast, where she prefers not to lose sight of the shore. Sisters of the Sweetwater Fury is her first novel.

You can connect with Kinley Bryan via these platforms -

Website: kinleybryan.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kinleybauthor

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kinleybryanauthor/

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Kinley-Bryan/e/B09J5GWDLX

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59240907 

You can learn more about the book and the author by visiting the other blogs on this tour.

https://www.coffeepotbookclub.com/post/blog-tour-sisters-of-the-sweetwater-fury-by-kinley-bryan

 

That's it for now.

Till the next time.

Take care Zoe

 

 

 

Welcoming Liz Harris and her book - Darjeeling Inheritance - to my blog

Today I'm welcoming Liz Harris and her book - Darjeeling Inheritance - to my blog as part of the blog tour hosted by The Coffee Pot Book Club (founded by Mary Anne Yarde)

I'm delighted to share an excerpt with you all but first I will introduce the book.

Darjeeling Inheritance

Darjeeling, 1930

After eleven years in school in England, Charlotte Lawrence returns to Sundar, the tea plantation owned by her family, and finds an empty house. She learns that her beloved father died a couple of days earlier and that he left her his estate. She learns also that it was his wish that she marry Andrew McAllister, the good-looking younger son from a neighbouring plantation. 

Unwilling to commit to a wedding for which she doesn’t feel ready, Charlotte pleads with Dan Fitzgerald, the assistant manager of Sundar, to teach her how to run the plantation while she gets to know Andrew. Although reluctant as he knew that a woman would never be accepted as manager by the local merchants and workers, Dan agrees.

Charlotte’s chaperone on the journey from England, Ada Eastman, who during the long voyage, has become a friend, has journeyed to Darjeeling to marry Harry Banning, the owner of a neighbouring tea garden.

When Ada marries Harry, she’s determined to be a loyal and faithful wife. And to be a good friend to Charlotte. And nothing, but nothing, was going to stand in the way of that.

Publication Date: 1^st October 2021

Publisher: Heywood Press

Page Length: 365 pages

Genre: Historical Romance 

You can purchase a copy of the book via -

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Darjeeling-Inheritance-Colonials-Liz-Harris-ebook/dp/B0938Y6XVS

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Darjeeling-Inheritance-Colonials-Liz-Harris-ebook/dp/B0938Y6XVS

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Darjeeling-Inheritance-Colonials-Liz-Harris-ebook/dp/B0938Y6XVS

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/Darjeeling-Inheritance-Colonials-Liz-Harris-ebook/dp/B0938Y6XVS

Now for the excerpt - 

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ada lay still in her bed beneath the mosquito net and listened to the muffled sound of the conversation below.

Charlotte and Mrs Lawrence had been talking downstairs for some time, their voices raised occasionally in sharpness. She hadn’t been able to discern any words, but it wasn’t difficult to guess the subject of the conversation—Mrs Lawrence wanted to go back to England as soon as possible, and Charlotte, in a state of insanity borne out of grief, was determined to learn about estate management before she got married.

But whatever either said, the reality was that Winifred would have to remain at Sundar until Charlotte came to her senses.

Finally, she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, first Winifred’s slower steps, and then Charlotte’s lighter tread, and then she heard their doors close.

Silence fell upon the house.

She turned restlessly on to her side. If only she could lose herself in sleep!

She’d been longing to do so since the moment she’d come to bed, but sleep had eluded her—frustratingly so, as she’d wanted to dazzle them all at her wedding.

Winifred Lawrence and Charlotte weren’t the only people on the brink of change—she, too, was. In the morning, she’d be casting aside the last vestige of her past life and taking on the role that she’d had the greatest good fortune to be given, and she wanted to look her very best on the first day of that new life.

Although, perhaps in a way, her new life had begun the moment she’d been introduced to Charlotte on the platform and they’d boarded the train for Southampton together, the arrangements for her to chaperone Charlotte back to India having been made in advance by Harry and Charles.

As she’d sat in the train across from Charlotte, she’d inwardly resolved that despite their slight difference in years, and the obvious naïvety of Charlotte, she’d make sure that they became good friends. And she’d promptly buried the old Ada Eastman and become the woman who was travelling to India to marry Harry Banning.

A woman without a past.

From the moment she’d accepted Harry’s written proposal, she’d sworn to herself that she’d never again let herself think back to the sheer exhilaration of being with George Kendall, and to the passion she’d felt for him, a passion she’d had no right to feel, being in a position of trust as governess to his daughter, Julia, and sitting down daily with George and his whey-faced wife.

She turned on to her back and stared up at the mosquito net. Who’d have thought that the governess job she’d been so unwilling to do would have opened the door to so much unexpected pleasure?

Becoming a governess had been the only suitable position she could undertake, given her circumstances. Although her father had been a High Sheriff, her family had little money, and with a dearth of prospective husbands in the small town in which they lived, she’d been obliged to seek paid employment.

Being respectable and educated, she’d been hired as a governess by a local family who lived in a nearby hamlet, but she’d found it so stifling to be in so small a community, with virtually no hope of meeting any eligible men, that when the opportunity to move to London and take up the post of governess to George’s daughter had presented itself, she’d jumped at it.

She’d never forget the day she first saw George.

Upon arriving at the house, she’d been ushered into the front hall by the housekeeper just as George had been coming down the stairs. While the housekeeper had been telling him her name and that she’d been appointed by his wife, she’d stood beside her travel bag, her eyes cast down with a modesty appropriate for a governess. When the housekeeper had finished talking, a rush of air told her that he’d turned towards her, and she’d sensed his gaze run down the length of her body.

Unable to resist seeing what he looked like, she’d glanced quickly up at his face, and had almost gasped out loud—he was quite the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

Tall and lean, he had glossy black hair that was longer at the sides than was commonly worn. A lock of hair had fallen across his high forehead, giving him a somewhat rakish look. And his eyes! From beneath dark brows, his ice-blue eyes burned into her face, the initial curiosity in them giving way to open desire.

She’d felt a strong sensation deep in her stomach.

The sound of a woman’s footsteps hurrying down the stairs had broken the mood of the moment, and she’d quickly returned her gaze to the pine floorboards, her heart still beating fast. George had said a hasty goodbye to his wife and left the house, his musky scent clinging to the air in his wake.

From that day on, she seemed to be forever meeting him in the corridors, in the hall, on the stairs, at dinner, and with each passing day, her hunger grew for what his every glance promised.

By the time the longed-for day arrived that she and George were completely alone in the house, they’d stood facing each other across the bedroom. An expectant silence weighted the air between them. And then, at the same instant, they’d fallen into each other’s arms and given in to a passion that overwhelmed them and left them gasping for breath.

In the weeks that had followed, she’d willingly yielded to that passion again and again—she, who’d read countless novels in which a young woman had fallen into destitution after her married lover, despite his many declarations of undying love, had rejected her upon the discovery of their illicit affair.

Within her head, she’d known the risk she was taking. But in her heart, she’d been firmly convinced that the intensity of their love was so great that neither would ever be able to part from the other, and she’d eagerly welcomed his attentions at every possible opportunity, longing for the day when they could be together forever.

Those weeks with George had been the most thrilling, most exciting weeks of her life. For every single minute of every single intoxicating day she’d felt nerve-tinglingly alive.

Until that terrible morning.

Liz Harris

Born in London, Liz Harris graduated from university with a Law degree, and then moved to California, where she led a varied life, from waitressing on Sunset Strip to working as secretary to the CEO of a large Japanese trading company.

Six years later, she returned to London and completed a degree in English, after which she taught secondary school pupils, first in Berkshire, and then in Cheshire.

In addition to the ten novels she’s had published, she’s had several short stories in anthologies and magazines.

Liz now lives in Oxfordshire. An active member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association and the Historical Novel Society, her interests are travel, the theatre, reading and cryptic crosswords. To find out more about Liz, visit her website at: www.lizharrisauthor.com 

You can connect with Liz Harris via these platforms -

Website: www.lizharrisauthor.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/lizharrisauthor

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lizharrisauthor

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/liz-harris-b866341a/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/liz.harris.52206/?hl=en

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Liz-Harris/e/B009V1G8UA

You can also learn more about the book and the author by visiting the other blogs on the blog tour.

https://www.coffeepotbookclub.com/post/blog-tour-darjeeling-inheritance-the-colonials-by-liz-harris-lizharrisauthor

 

That's it for now.

Till the next time.

Take care Zoe