lives in the UK with her family and two cats. She spends most of her time
writing or reading, loves anything paranormal or romantic, and has an
overactive imagination that keeps her up until the early hours of the morning.
By the age of
nineteen, Mia had published nine books, including the Elemental Killers series and the Seasons of Change series.Since then, her books have charted on numerous Amazon Bestseller Lists,
and she has also had poems published in a many anthologies. With an ever growing
list of ideas, Mia continues to create fictional worlds through her writing,
and is trying to keep up with the speed at which her imagination generates
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“Not my fight? How did you
come to that conclusion? You made it my fight when you sold me, Cora. This is
your fault not mine, and you only have yourself to blame!” Nick roared, his
grip tightening to a new painful intensity.
“I did not sell you. I cut a
deal with Rogan and you were collateral damage. I couldn’t help it.”
Even Cora flinched at her
words. What she had done to Nick was awful, but it was a necessity if she was
going to survive.
“You signed my life away.
You ruined my life by forcing me into a god-damned contract that has no loop
holes. Not only that, but then you had the audacity to attack me when you
escaped Rogan’s mansion last time. That is not collateral damage!”
He didn’t realise he was
shaking her fragile body until she let out another low groan.
“You weren’t meant to be a
part of the deal. I couldn’t help it. I tried to get you out of it, but there
was no way. It was me or you.”
“Don’t bullshit me. You know
there was a way out. I did nothing to you but be there and you sold me out,
just like your friends have done to you.” His words cut Cora like a knife,
slitting her deep.
“You knew too much…you knew
my secret…you weren’t meant to survive.” Cora muttered the last line, her jaw
tight with anger as she finally admitted the truth she had kept bottled up. He
wasn’t meant to hear it, but he did.
“What did you just say?” He
was shaking her once more, anger flowing out of him as he was finally
enlightened as to why Cora had betrayed him.
“You weren’t meant to
survive. You shouldn’t have passed the first test Rogan puts his men through.
You weren’t meant to come back. I was meant to be safe.”
“Well unluckily for you I
manned up. Not only did I pass every test Rogan threw at me but I worked my way
up. I’m now his second in command. How’s that for irony?”
“Screw you,” Cora spat,
tired of the conversation.
“You wish. For now though, I
think I’ll return the favour you so kindly granted me all those years ago.”
“Let me go, Nick, for old
time’s sake. I thought we were friends?” It was a lousy defence and Cora knew
it, but it was all she had left.
“We stopped being friends
years ago when you shafted me, Cora. I couldn’t care less what happens to you
anymore. Now shut up and move.”
Becoming a parent can be daunting at the best of times, but for Flynn, a business lawyer in Melbourne, it almost pulls the feet from right underneath him. He’s become a father to six-year-old Nadine literally overnight! He had no idea about her existence, and the news throws him into chaos, even more so when he is asked to take over custody.
With the help of Emma, an employee at the hotel where Nadine and her grandparents are staying, and his parents, Flynn tries to do the right thing. Yet, the right thing in his eyes differs from his parents’, and Emma is voicing her opinion as well. And right in the middle is little Nadine, still grieving the loss of her mother and finding a wonderful friend in Emma. There’s no doubt she’s afraid where and with whom she will settle. But in the end, it’s a letter Flynn receives that helps him figuring out what to do.
Emma’s shift was only starting in an hour’s time, and she was enjoying a delicious breakfast at the hotel’s café. Like most Mondays she had accepted a lift from Jack, who worked an extra hour Monday and Fridays to cover for a longer lunch when he was allowed to use the gym in the basement.
Emma turned around and looked into Nadine’s beautiful eyes. “Good morning, Nadine. It was Nadine, wasn’t it?”
The girl’s face lit up. “Yes, but Mum always called me Naddie.”
“May I call you Naddie?”
Emma filled her glass with more orange juice, all the while studying the little girl out of the corner of her eye. Nadine held on to an oversized doll, which seemed to be dressed in the same outfit as Nadine – pink T-shirt imprinted with My beautiful Princess, a denim skirt with a princess on it surrounded by lots of pink hearts in all sizes, and pink shiny sandals. Her brown hair had been done up in a ponytail.
“Where are your grandparents, Naddie?”
“Still in the room. Talking on the phone. Grandmother is always on the phone,” Nadine added.
“Do you think you’re allowed to have a bit of breakfast with me?”
With excitement spreading across Nadine’s face, she nodded her head eagerly and sat down opposite Emma.
I am a big fan of Miss Blobel's work. I love her characters and get so into their lives and how that comes together and culminates in the end. I loved Flynn and his apprehension about having to be a new Dad to a child he had never met. Emma's involvement and her torment of having to chose the right man. Jack's dormant abusive behavior and Teresa indifference to Nadine, who by the way was a very endearing child. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and Kudos to its author!!
A very good story that keeps you turning the pages to find out what is going to happen next. A fairly predictable ending but who doesnt like a happy ending?
Welcome to Tuesday ... Welcome to Tuesday Tales ...
I continue with my story about Connor and his dad Jack, who's ill with cancer. Connor lives in London and is visiting his father who lives in a small town along the Victorian coast.
Today's prompt is: ARM
Enjoy - and feel free to leave a comment. And don't forget to click the link below to go back to the main Tuesday Tale site for more stories by very talented authors.
Emily was glad when she finally arrived at her house just before six o’clock. She was close to getting a headache her body was so tense from anticipation as well as apprehension. After a quick shower, it took her almost three quarters of an hour to figure out what to wear, when she realised she still had to prepare the salad. Hastily, she pulled up her hair in a ponytail before heading into the kitchen. She’d decided on a casual apricot-coloured summer dress. Although she thought it was silly, she still made sure she wore her sexy underwear. Not sure what to expect or whether she read too much into the dinner invitation, she sat down for a moment to take a deep breath. Calming herself down, she reassured herself that he possibly only wanted to catch up on his past. After all, it seemed he had truly forgotten most, if not all of it.
She remembered the photo of them five in the top drawer of her desk and went into her study. They’d only started school a few weeks earlier and they’d all been still excited about the novelty of going to school every day. Still, they’d met most days at the beach. It’d been a hot summer that year. Their parents had made sure that there’d been at least one adult to supervise them, but as hard as Emily tried to think back, she wasn’t able to figure out what had been different that day. They’d been on their boogie boards for a while before heading for the cliffs. Niall had taken his sandals off because he’d been slipping on the rocks, but Connor had helped her up on a rock and hadn’t seen the sandals. He’d tripped, slipped, and hit his head against a rock. Blood had run down his face instantly from a cut above his eyes. Emily vaguely remembered tears, but most of it was a blur. Jack had been there in an instant carrying Connor to the car and taking him to the hospital.
Her finger traced his face on the picture. That was the last time she’d seen him until earlier this week. Nobody knew what had happened afterwards. Jack had been quiet about the subject, but his loss and his pain had been obvious.
Emily had been only a small girl, but in her own little world she’d already had it all planned —their wedding, children, retirement. She chuckled. Ethan was right. No other man had ever been good enough for her.
The doorbell rang and she startled. Quickly, she placed the photo back into the drawer and rushed to the door.
“Sorry, I’m a bit late. I had a little chat with Jack.”
She shook her head. “Not at all. Come on in.”
Emily tried to ignore the fluttering sensation in her stomach and the sudden thumping of her heart when his arm brushed hers as he stepped inside.
Oliver Dempsey, pitcher for a Melbourne baseball club, loves the women,
and they love him…
But he keeps
them at an arm’s length, and when he meets Tamara, he’s unprepared for the
attraction he feels for her. Told by his coach that she’s off limits,
only draws him in more.
Tamara Amis moved to Melbourne to find some distance between her past
help of her uncle, the coach of a Melbourne baseball club, she quickly finds a
job, and a place to live. Yet, one meeting with the handsome pitcher stirs
unexpected emotions that threaten to overwhelm her.
Oliver’s injury that brings them together, but as they find out about each
other’s pasts, how can they be ready to share a future?
Sweat ran down Oliver’s back, soaking his shirt. He’d been on
the field for a couple of hours, but frustration grew in him with every ball he
missed. He placed his hands on his knees and took a deep
breath, fixing his
stare at the ground. For Pete’s sake, he was a pitcher, not a hitter, and well
known for his fastballs as well as his perfect curveballs. Alas, he had
neglected his hitting. Today, his swing was below average, and, unable to
focus, he walked over to the bench where he spotted Coach Becker shaking his
head towards him.
Pointing his finger back towards the field, the coach said,
“Head right back out there, Oliver. You need to improve your hand-eye
coordination. I want to see more, and better.”
Oliver cursed under his breath. “It’s not going to happen. My
shoulder’s killing me. It’s been a long day.”
Coach Erik Becker rubbed his face.
“It’s not gonna happen today,” Oliver persisted.
With a grimace on his face, his coach nodded.
"Righteo, call it a day.
But I want you back out there again in the morning, though.”
Oliver eased off his gloves and
shoved them into his back pocket, before removing his helmet.
The coach gave him a gentle
slap on his back. “I need you to concentrate more tomorrow. Remember what I
told you. You need to focus on your proper stance as well as swinging the bat.
Keep your eye on the ball as it comes towards you. Try to connect the
bat with the ball, preferably at the fat of the bat. We have a game coming up
soon. Go and deal with the shoulder issue. Check in for a massage.”
Oliver wiped his forehead with
his arm when he noticed a woman standing in the coach’s shadow. Raising his
eyebrows, he nodded towards her as to ask who she was.
Erik turned slightly. “Oliver,
this is my niece, Tamara. She’s moved here from Perth. Tamara, this is Oliver.”
Oliver extended his hand
towards her. “Nice meeting you.”
She ignored his hand and took a
step back. Taken aback by her reaction, Oliver instinctively checked his hand
for dirt or sweat. Questioningly, he looked at his coach.
Erik ignored the situation and
simply said, “Have your shower and see me before you head off to discuss your
Nodding, Oliver took another
quick look at Tamara. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and he was puzzled by
her expression. It seemed as if her intense blue eyes were trying to hide
something. The distant look in them was almost mysterious, and combined with
her body language, he couldn’t help but get the impression something was wrong.
She was very guarded.
With one last look towards
Tamara, Oliver turned and left.
As soon as he got to the locker
room, he peeled off his t-shirt. Pain shot through him the instant he lifted
his right shoulder. He’d been ignoring the twinge during the training session,
but knew he had to have it looked at. The fucking skateboard rider had nearly
knocked him over the previous day when he came out of nowhere. Oliver hadn’t
had a chance to move out of the way fast enough and slammed his shoulder into a
He slowly stripped out of his
track pants before grabbing a can of Coke out of his bag. Leaning against the
wall, he chugged half of the drink while enjoying the quietness around him.
Everyone else was still out on the field trying to please Coach Becker. He
choked a laugh, hoping his mates would put Erik in a better mood than he had.
They had a few important games over the next few weeks before the season ended,
and for the first time in years, the club was doing well.
he walked to the showers, he thought about his training session and wondered
whether his shoulder was to blame for the bad hits, or his lack of training.
But who was he kidding, he always liked to throw everything he had at people,
yet was hopeless in receiving anything thrown at him. That applied in baseball
and in life. When he’d been to see his first baseball game as a kid in Los
Angeles, he’d known he was born to pitch.
Gabriela Martinez, psychopaths do strike twice. In The Coin, two star-crossed
lovers were cruelly used by fate—and now, in The Book of Hours, destiny isn’t
Gabriela almost lost her life to a psychopath hoping to claim her artwork, her
career, her body, and her love. If not for Richard, the operative sent to
protect her, she would have fallen victim to his twisted vision. The
dramatic showdown pushed Gabriela and Richard together, even in the face of countless
With someone new
threatening Gabriela's life, Richard will risk everything to protect the woman
he loves. But with a new villain on the horizon, bent on possessing
Gabriela's latest work no matter what it takes, she is forced to fall back on
old friends, including the man who changed her life not so many years ago.
With an even more
dramatic threat looming, and far more to lose, if they don't stay one step
ahead of the danger, their lives, their love, and their future may very well go
up in flames.
Maria Elena Alonso-Sierra is a full-time novelist based in North Carolina. With Cuban roots, she has lived in many countries, including France, the setting for her first novel, The Coin. She speaks English, Spanish, French, Italian, and German, and reads Latin, Middle English, and old French. She holds a Masters in English literature, specializing in medieval romances, and is currently an active member of the Carolina Romance Writers. She loves to hear from her readers, and always hopes to open a dialogue with her fans.
stilled at the soft sound of her name. For a moment, she stood listening, then
shook her head like a wet dog shaking off water. You are such a fool, her mind supplied. Disgusted, she stabbed at
the cerulean blue on her palette. Her mind had deceived her yet again. She slobbered
the paint on the canvas, realized what she had done, and hissed. Since agreeing
with Jean-Louis to call Maurice later that evening, she’d been a nervous wreck.
Throughout the noon hour, her brain had staged all sorts of encounters with one
infuriating, unforgettable man. Like a dutiful stage manager, her mind had
supervised every possible scene, every possible emotion under its tutelage.
She’d jumped from rage, to indifference, to haughtiness, but longing had
finally won, hands down. No matter how hard she tried to avoid it, she could
never escape the terrible need she felt for him, a need that went deeper than
the instinct to breathe.
The lyrics from
the song she’d impulsively put on swirled around her, teased her. The singer,
in his soulful tenor voice, sang about the moment of encounter with his
beloved, anticipation heating his blood, nerves tingling in expectation of the
seduction. His words mimicked her own guilty longings, her desires. Oh, God. How would she ever get through this
day? How would she find the courage to do what must be done?
This time the
voice penetrated, took form. It called out to her, familiar and unmistakably
real, a living entity that caressed her skin and raised goose bumps on her warm
flesh. This was no figment of her imagination, no mistake. She felt him, her
nerve endings suddenly electrified, awareness shaking her. Panic sent her heart
scurrying. Hope and love made her turn around slowly, ever so slowly.
thinking her eyes were deceiving her, but Richard’s tall frame stood static
before her, his chestnut hair combed by the soft breeze, his eyes intense,
pinning her and caressing her all at once. The embers of irrational hope fanned
to life like a conflagration. For an unguarded moment, her eyes reflected her
hope, her joy, but especially her hopeless love for him.
those powerful emotions play across her face and relief slammed him.Gotcha.She’d always had such an expressive, beautiful face.Now, no matter what she did, but especially
said, he would know the truth.The love
was there, and it flared like a beacon.