Sunday, 31 August 2025

Five Classmates. Two Time Portals. What Could Possibly Go Wrong…


The month of September marks new beginnings. For some it’s their very first day of school. For others, it’s moving up a grade or even on to high school, college or university. For many, it’s back to work, a return to routines, and moving forward in the new season. However, autumn also marks the harvest season for hard-working farmers who reap what they have sown throughout the late spring and summer. I’m harvesting my own kind of crop by bundling Books 1-3 of the Last Timekeepers series so readers can escape to the past, and have a blast anytime of the year. Your reading adventure awaits…

Blurbs:

Books 1-3 in the Last Timekeepers series now available in one volume. Escape to the past and have a blast!

The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis: After 13-year-old Amanda Sault and her classmates uncover a mysterious stone arch, they learn that it's an ancient portal created by the lost civilization of Atlantis. Chosen by an Atlantean Magus, Amanda and her companions are swept into the secret world of the Timekeepers: legendary guardians entrusted with preserving history from a sinister force known as Belial.

The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret: In Nazi-occupied Amsterdam during World War 2, the Last Timekeepers are tasked with locating an ancient book before it falls into enemy hands. With help from the Dutch Resistance and a mysterious baron, they must stay one step ahead of a regime determined to silence the truth.

The Last Timekeepers and the Noble Slave: On his third Timekeeper mission, eleven-year-old Drake Bailey must confront a dark chapter of history: the antebellum South. In a time of fear and cruelty, Drake must outwit his captors, protect a vital bloodline, and find the courage to break the chains that threaten to destroy him. Do the Timekeepers have what it takes to complete their mission and protect the timeline?

Excerpt from The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis:

They were almost inside the glowing archway. Its light felt warm and welcoming, like the rising summer sun. Treena stuck her thumbs in the straps of her khaki backpack as if it doubled as a magic parachute. Amanda mimicked Treena and grasped the straps on Jordan’s backpack that she was still wearing. Ravi was the only other person wearing one, so all the rest had nothing to break their fall if that light suddenly cut them loose.

The brilliant, fathomless glow swallowed Amanda, blinding her. Calm and silence overrode her senses. In that moment, two things happened—Amanda sensed that there was no separation between her and the others—as if they were all connected by these tiny threads of light. Second, she started to feel as though she were free falling, moving fast and out of control. She regained her vision, just as the white light exploded into a whirling rainbow.

Drake laughed. “Wicked! This feels like a ride at Disneyland!”

“It feels better than that!” Jordan replied. “I’ve been to Disneyland twice, and there’s no ride that even comes close to this!”

“It’s as if we can fly!” Treena shouted, doing a somersault in mid-air.

“It does feel wonderful, doesn’t it?” Melody said dreamily.

Amanda grabbed both ankles and flipped herself over. She giggled. This freedom, this feeling, this flux was awesome. The huge, spiraling rainbow surrounding the group of seven gently juggled them in mid-air like floating balls in a never-ending lottery game. She glanced over at Jordan’s uncle. His cheeks were sucked in, and his body flopped one way then another like a fish out of water.

“Is your uncle okay, Jordan?” she asked.

Jordan maneuvered over to his uncle by spreading his arms and legs wide as if he were a free-falling parachutist. He grasped his uncle’s shoulder and shook him. “Uncle John? Uncle John! Don’t make me slap you again!”

He reached over, grabbed Jordan, and kissed him on the forehead. “It’s all true, Jordan! It’s all true!”

Jordan squirmed. “What’s true?”

“Time flows through us,” he answered, his voice cracking as if he were a young boy again.

The whirling rainbow burst into shards of light, and they all touched bottom.

It felt soft—like a cushy trampoline—as Amanda, her classmates, Melody, and Professor Lucas bounced easily until they all stood still. Then the ground became solid again. Polished marble walls and finely crafted pillars materialized through the fading light. A sudden high-pitched buzzing noise made her wince. Everyone seemed to hear it too; they cringed in unison. The sound of waves crashing against a shore replaced the buzzing, and a set of deep purple curtains miraculously appeared in front of them. Amanda rubbed her eyes. In the time it took her to take a breath, the curtains were drawn. The brilliant white light that had pulled them into the stone arch now hovered between the open curtains. It started to radiate out, then draw in, out, then in, changing its shape with each rhythmic movement, until it finally transformed into a woman.

The woman was beautiful in an otherworldly way. She had long, fair, flowing hair adorned with quartz crystals. Piercing blue eyes stared back at Amanda like she was peering into her soul. She had a long narrow face with high cheek bones that tapered down to a firm chin. Her nose was long and slender. Amanda smiled at her. The woman smiled back. Her teeth were white, small, and even. She was perfect in every way. A rich-blue sleeveless linen robe adorned her slim body, accentuating her ivory skin.

I wonder if she’s a princess. Amanda didn’t doubt it, especially with all the jewelry the woman wore. A sparkling metallic snake bracelet wound around her left arm, a string of gleaming pearls and shells hung around her neck, and a silver belt strewn with various green, blue, and red gems hugged her waist. The only piece of clothing that didn’t seem to belong was a plain pair of woven sandals.

Melody pushed Drake behind her and took a few steps forward. “I demand that you tell us where we are!”

The beautiful woman gave Melody a gentle smile, and nodded. She opened her arms wide and said, “Welcome to the Temple of Poseidon, in the City of the Golden Gates.”

Melody jerked. “I-I beg your pardon?”

“Atlantis,” Professor Lucas answered in a whisper. “We’re in Atlantis.”

Excerpt from The Last Timekeepers and the Dark Secret:

“I wonder what else is down here.” Drake beamed his cell phone across the basement, hitting jars of jams, pickles, and relishes. His stomach growled.

Jordan pulled the cheese from his pocket and handed it to Drake. “Trade you for your phone.”

“Best. Trade. Ever.” Drake passed his phone to Jordan.

Jordan walked over and grabbed a jar of pickles off the dusty shelf. At least they wouldn’t arrive at the baron’s place hungry. He hoped his uncle had managed to stop Amanda’s bleeding. His hand tightened over the jar, the ridges of the lid cutting into his palm. A scrape from behind the shelves made Jordan jump.

“Hello?” he asked, pushing jars aside. He flashed the cell phone into the small, dark area.

“Who ya talking to, Jordan?” Drake asked with his mouth full of cheese.

“Shhh, Drake.” Jordan listened. Hearing nothing, he shrugged and turned back around.

“I thought I heard—” Jordan stopped and pointed the phone at Ravi. His jaw dropped. “A-Are you serious, Sharma?”

Drake spat out his cheese, snorting with laughter.

“Is there a problem?” Ravi asked, tying the bowtie of his tuxedo.

“You look like a penguin with attitude!” Drake slapped his knee.

“Say what you want, but I’m glad we didn’t hit the cleaners on the way to school now,” Ravi replied, pulling down his sleeves, “or else I wouldn’t have these dry clothes.”

Jordan chuckled. Suddenly, he heard a door creak open, followed by heavy footsteps squeaking down the stairs. Panicking, Jordan stuffed Drake’s phone in his track suit jacket’s pocket and waved Drake over by the shelves. Drake slipped behind Jordan just in time, before the small light bulb above the bottom of the stairs clicked on. Jordan swallowed hard. There, staring directly at Ravi was a portly man in a blood-stained apron. Tufts of blond hair sprouted from the sides of his balding head. His brown trousers were pulled up past his waist, making him resemble an evil garden gnome. In one of his hands, he held a huge butcher knife, its blade flecked with blood.

Wielding the knife, the man pointed at Ravi. “Who are you?”

Ravi licked his thick lips nervously. “The name’s Bond. James Bond.”

Excerpt from The Last Timekeepers and the Noble Slave:

Drake glanced at Elvis standing by the back of the wagon, and their eyes locked. He didn’t appear to be dressed like the slaves Drake remembered in movies or had seen in textbooks. Wearing a dark frock coat over a white linen shirt, and a pair of tan trousers, Elvis seemed dressed more for city living instead of country life. He smiled at Drake and tipped his charcoal derby at him again. “Is…is Elvis your slave?” Drake asked.

“He’ll be free once I pass on.” The sides of Dixie’s hazel eyes crinkled. “But Elvis sometimes thinks he’s the one who wears the pants on account he takes care of me. Taught him how to read and write as best I could, but as you see, people don’t know what to make of him. His skin’s lighter than some white folks I know.”

“So Elvis is an albino.” Drake rubbed his chin. “I thought so. His skin would be the same color as mine if it wasn’t for the lack of a particular enzyme in his body.”

“Not sure what the devil you said, but sounds like you’re one smart boy. If I was you, I wouldn’t show off your schooling to the people ’round here. Folks don’t take too kindly to educated blacks, free or not.” 

“Don’t worry, Dixie, he’ll keep his mouth shut.” Jordan nudged Drake. “Right?”

“When hell freezes over,” Drake whispered to Jordan. He looked up at Dixie and grinned. “Right.”

“Let’s go, children, into the wagon.” Melody gave them the come along sign. “We don’t want to take up any more of Dixie’s valuable time.”

Dixie guffawed. “Pay no mind to the time, Melody. My pappy taught me that you get what you need in life, and I got plenty of time to help others get to where they need to be.”

The sound of Treena grunting into the back of the wagon made Amanda giggle. Drake caught Treena scowling at Amanda while Jordan helped her in. Ravi followed Jordan, careful not to brush his sherwani against the rough wooden sides. The wagon creaked against the added weight, but it seemed sturdy enough to transport them on the rugged dirt road. The Prof assisted Melody into the wagon, and she found a place next to Treena near the front. Jordan and Amanda sat next to each other near the back gate, while Ravi brushed away the dust from one of the sacks of grain before he planted his butt on it. Drake had never known Ravi to be this anal about anything, especially clothes.

“Come on, Drake,” The Prof held out his hand, “last but not least.”

Drake started toward the wagon and stopped, feeling a twinge in his bladder. Looking both ways, he spied a copse of tall shrubs leafy enough to allow him some privacy. “Um, give me a sec, Prof. Nature calls.”

“Hold on, I’ll come with you.”

“No thanks. I think I can handle this task.” 

Drake darted toward the shrubs before Professor Lucas or Melody could protest. Finding the most appropriate spot, he unzipped his pants and proceeded with his business. As soon as he was done, he zipped up his pants the same time a calloused hand roughly covered his mouth. Drake’s neck muscles corded while he was dragged deeper into the forest with what felt like a gun shoved between his shoulder blades.

UNIVERSAL BOOK LINK:  https://books2read.com/u/b5ExvR

Sunday, 24 August 2025

Author in the Kitchen: Healthy Homemade Mayonnaise and a Time Travel Romance Read Served Up by Stella May...

I enjoy cooking and making healthy food for my family and, of course, sharing the recipes that are our favorites. Here is one for my yummy homemade mayo that tastes great on sandwiches, as the basis for salad dressing, along with a topping for chicken and fish. Needless to say, we are not buying store-bought mayonnaise since…forever. 


Homemade Mayonnaise
1 large egg (must be room temperature)
1 cup (240ml) neutral oil (I use light olive oil)
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp Dijon mustard

I don’t use salt and sugar

In a tall container or a food processor, add oil, egg, lemon juice, and mustard.

Place an immersion blender at the bottom. Start blending without moving it until the mayonnaise begins to form. Then slowly move the blender upward until the ingredients are fully combined.

If using a food processor or whisk— add the oil slowly in a thin stream while continuously blending or whisking until the mayo thickens.

You can add a little seasoning like salt or a pinch of sugar. I don’t. Or experiment with flavors by adding garlic, herbs, or a touch of hot sauce.

Transfer the mayo to an airtight container and refrigerate. It lasts about 1 week in the fridge.

 Enjoy!

Here is a peek at book one of Stella’s time travel romance series for your reading pleasure. 

One key unlocks the love of a lifetime…but could also break her heart. 

Nika Morris’s sixth sense has helped build a successful business, lovingly restoring and reselling historic homes on Florida’s Amelia Island. But there’s one forlorn, neglected relic that’s pulled at her from the moment she saw it. The century-old Coleman house.  

Quite unexpectedly, the house is handed to her on a silver platter—along with a mysterious letter, postmarked 1909, yet addressed personally to Nika. Its cryptic message: Find the key. You know where it is. Hurry, for goodness sake! 

The message triggers an irresistible drive to find that key. When she does, one twist in an old grandfather clock throws her back in time, straight into the arms of deliciously, devilishly handsome Elijah Coleman. 

Swept up in a journey of a lifetime, Nika finds herself falling in love with Eli—and with the family and friends that inhabit a time not even her vivid imagination could have conjured. But in one desperate moment of homesickness, she makes a decision that will not only alter the course of more than one life, but break her heart. 

’Til Time Do Us Part is available in Kindle and Paperback at AMAZON


Talented author Stella May is the penname for Marina Sardarova who has a fascinating history you should read on her website

Stella writes fantasy romance as well as time travel romance. She is the author of 'Till Time Do Us Part, Book 1 in her Upon a Time series, and the stand-alone book Rhapsody in Dreams. Love and family are two cornerstones of her stories and life. Stella’s books are available in e-book and paperback through all major vendors.

When not writing, Stella enjoys classical music, reading, and long walks along the ocean. She lives in Jacksonville, Florida with her husband Leo of 35 years and their son George. They are her two best friends and are all partners in their family business.

Follow Stella on her website and blog Stay connected on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

Sunday, 17 August 2025

Guest Post: Breaking Rules Can Be Deadly by Author Anne Montgomery...



In a moment, the magnificent Sonoran Desert can become merciless, even deadly. I will never venture there again without following the rules.

In my YA novel The Scent of Rain, as in all my books, the beautiful but sometimes treacherous southwestern desert plays a part. I’ve lived in Phoenix, Arizona for over 25 years and I’d always believed that, in the event of a Zombie Apocalypse, I could manage to stay alive in the wilderness that butts up against our urban landscape. Years of Girl Scout camp, rock collecting in remote abandoned mines, and scuba diving in wild locales made me confident I could outwit the elements, if I found myself stuck in the middle of nowhere.

The key to survival is planning. Make rules and stick to them. As a sports official for over thirty-five years, I tend to be quite dedicated to rules. Still, one awful day, I committed the worst mistake imaginable. I broke my own rules: a decision that could have been fatal.

I was headed for a day of rock collecting in the Superstition Mountains. As always, I’d left a detailed map of where I planned to be and when to expect me home. Since finding a person in hundreds of square miles of mountainous wilderness is always a daunting task – especially when cellphone access is rarely available – the rule was that I would stay with the vehicle, which would be much easier to spot than a lone individual. My old Ford pickup was stocked with water and food, a sleeping bag, books to read, a tent, a bottle of tequila – to disinfect wounds, of course – and dog food. I traveled that day with Georgie, my aging sheltie collie, and a young spotted cattle-dog mix named Sadie.

Once off the two-lane road, I drove about a mile on a well-maintained dirt trail. But quickly, the ground became rocky and steep. A few twists and turns later, I stopped. The track was too rough. Unfortunately, I was between a rock wall and a small ledge leading into a sandy wash, so I couldn’t turn the truck around. I draped my arm over the passenger seat and started backing down the trail. Almost immediately, my rear tire slipped over the ledge, and the pickup slid into the wash. When I gunned the engine, the back tires sunk into the sand.

I swore loudly and jumped out, landing in a jumble of sharp rocks. My leg slipped into a crevice, and I fell, slicing my arm on a jagged boulder. Blood ran down to my elbow in bright red streaks. I swore some more.

I stared back in the direction of the road. I was only about a mile-and-a-half in. It would be a short hike on a cool, cloudy day. I could flag someone down and call home. I strapped two water bottles around my waist, grabbed some energy bars, reapplied my sunscreen, and squashed on my Aussie hat. I put the dogs’ leashes in my pack.

I walked on the sandy wash for a short time, admiring the rocky desert beauty: spindly ocotillos, majestic saguaros, and twisted mesquite trees dotted the landscape. The dogs bounded around me. Then I stopped. Two trails, right next to one another, led away from the wash. I thought for a moment. Which one had brought me here? I took the fork to the left. I can’t remember why.

Later that morning, I stood near the top of a small mountain. The dark, open face of an abandoned mine yawned at me. I’d taken the wrong trail. I turned and gazed out at the valley. With the exception of the massive Ray Copper Mine edging the horizon, I saw only wilderness. Where was the road?

Then, the sun came out, strong and hot. I squinted and saw what looked like a white roof way off to my left. We started down the trail, which forked again. This was a mining road, composed of jagged rocks. After about 30 minutes, Georgie stopped. My collie had cut her paws on the rough trail and sat down, refusing to budge. Both animals stared at me, tongues lolling out of their mouths. I reached again for the water bottles and was stunned that only about an inch of precious fluid remained.

The heat became stifling. I tried carrying Georgie, but she was too heavy. I looked for shade, knowing that we should wait out the heat and hike at night. But could we all survive on the little bit of water that remained? Death can come quickly in the desert.

Feeling sick to my stomach, I walked away from my girls. I’d leashed them to the meager shade of a scraggly bush, hoping to find help before dark. The coyotes would be out by then. Two tied dogs would have no chance against them.
I wiped tears from my face as I built cairns: trail markers that could lead me back. I’d had heat sickness before and recognized that I was beginning to succumb again to the light-headedness that precedes passing out. I finished the water.

Later, when I put my foot on a flat piece of pavement, I was stunned. The road simply appeared with no warning. Then, out of nowhere on that lonely stretch, a single car pulled up and stopped next to me. A young man, incongruously wearing a white button-down and tie, leaned out the window and asked if I needed help.

“You’re hurt,” he said looking at the dried blood on my arm.”

I cried.

The kind young man dropped me off at the Kearny sheriff’s office, where Mayberry-esq matrons in floral-print blouses fussed over me. “No, I don’t want a paramedic,” I assured them, red-faced, crying. “I want my dogs!”

Several hours later, Sheriff Joe Martinez drove his cruiser into the desert with me on the seat beside him. We followed the trail of stone markers. I worried about my girls and was afraid to look when he said, “There they are!”

To my relief, we were greeted with wagging tails. Later, Sheriff Martinez, in true western hero fashion, pulled my truck from the sand and waved me off.

Prior to my brush with disaster, I could sometimes be heard mocking ill-prepared visitors who would end up lost in the desert without food, water, sunscreen, or proper clothing: hikers who approached the desert environment like a walk in a pastoral garden.

I don’t do that anymore.

And I never, ever, break the rules.

Here is a brief peek at Anne's latest release.

Bud Richardville is inducted into the Army as the United States prepares for the invasion of Europe in 1943. A chance comment has Bud assigned to the Graves Registration Service where his unit is tasked with locating, identifying, and burying the dead. Bud ships out, leaving behind his new wife, Lorraine, a mysterious woman who has stolen his heart but whose secretive nature and shadowy past leave many unanswered questions. When Bud and his men hit the beach at Normandy, they are immediately thrust into the horrors of what working in a graves unit entails. Bud is beaten down by the gruesome demands of his job and losses in his personal life, but then he meets Eva, an optimistic soul who despite the war can see a positive future. Will Eva’s love be enough to save him?

Praise for Your Forgotten Sons

“Although a defty crafted work of original fiction, “Your Forgotten Sons” by Anne Montgomery is inspired by a true story. An original and inherently interesting read from start to finish, “Your Forgotten Sons” will prove to be an immediate and enduringly appreciated pick.”  Midwest Book Review

“This was a quick, riveting read that really challenged me to think differently about our servicemen and women, especially those who take on the jobs that don’t get heroically depicted in the media or news…I really highly recommend this book to anyone that is looking for a different take on American history. I left it with a newfound appreciation for the unsung heroes.” Bekah C NetGalley 

“This is the truth. It’s gritty and painful and bittersweet – and true.  When you think you’ve read every perspective of WWII, along comes Bud to break your heart.” Bridgett Siter Former Military Reporter

“Anne Montgomery writes a strong story and I was hooked from the first page. It had a great concept and I enjoyed that this was inspired by a true story…It was written perfectly and I was invested in the story. Anne Montgomery has a great writing style and left me wanting to read more.” –  Kathryn McLeer NetGalley 

Available at AmazonApple BooksBarnes & NobleGoogle Books, and Kobo

Anne Montgomery
has worked as a television sportscaster, newspaper and magazine writer, teacher, amateur baseball umpire, and high school football referee. She worked at WRBL‐TV in Columbus, Georgia, WROC‐TV in Rochester, New York, KTSP‐TV in Phoenix, Arizona, ESPN in Bristol, Connecticut, where she anchored the Emmy and ACE award‐winning SportsCenter, and ASPN-TV as the studio host for the NBA’s Phoenix Suns. Montgomery has been a freelance and staff writer for six publications, writing sports, features, movie reviews, and archeological pieces.

When she can, Anne indulges in her passions: rock collecting, scuba diving, football refereeing, and playing her guitar.

Learn more about Anne Montgomery on her website and Wikipedia. Stay connected on Facebook, Linkedin, and Twitter.

Sunday, 10 August 2025

Author in the Kitchen: The Perfect Peach Crumble for a Hot Summer's Eve by Cookbook Author Sloane Taylor...

A sizzling summer deserves a cool dessert. This tasty treat is one my family loves and because it’s so easy to make we have it often.

Peach Crumble

1 – 15.25 oz. can peach chunks in heavy sauce
½ tsp. cinnamon
1½ tbsp. cornstarch
¼ cup apple juice

Pour peaches into a small saucepan. Stir in remaining ingredients. Bring to a boil, lower heat and cook for 1 minute. Stir constantly so the mixture doesn’t burn. If the sauce is too thick add more apple juice one tablespoon at a time.

Scoop peach mixture into an ungreased 1 quart, or slightly smaller, ovenproof casserole. Individual ramekins work well, too.

Topping
½ cup flour
½ cup sugar
2 tbsp. butter or margarine, cut into bits

Preheat oven to 375° F.

Combine flour and sugar in a small bowl. Add butter bits then use your fingertips to blend the mixture into coarse crumbs. Sprinkle over peaches.

Bake 20 – 25 minutes or until topping is a lightly golden.

Serve smothered in whipped cream.

May you enjoy all the days of your life filled with good friends, laughter, and seated around a well-laden table!


Sloane

Sloane Taylor is an Award-Winning author with a second passion in her life. She is an avid cook and posts new recipes on her blog every Wednesday. The recipes are user friendly, meaning easy.

To learn more about Taylor go to her website Stay in touch on BloggerTwitter, and LinkedIn.

Taylor's cookbooks, Hot Mean Wear ApronsDate Night Dinners, Date Night Dinners Italian Style, Sizzling Summer, and Recipes to Create Holidays Extraordinaire are released by Toque & Dagger Publishing and available at all book vendors.

Sunday, 3 August 2025

This Summer, Welcome to Atlantis. We've Been Expecting You...


Legends. We love them. We can’t get enough of them. In fact, we NEED them. Legends connect humanity in ways we can’t fathom. A legend, by definition is a story handed down for generations among a people and popularly believed to have a historical basis, although not verifiable. In book one of my time travel series, The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis, Amanda Sault, her four classmates, and two tag-along adults are whisked through an arch they find buried in an overgrown garden and transported to the mythical continent of Atlantis. They’ve been summoned to become Timekeepers—legendary time travelers sworn to keep history safe from an evil force known only as Belial. Oh, BTW—they’re not just any Timekeepers—they’re the Last Timekeepers. No pressure, right? Well, maybe a smidgen.

The Timekeepers first mission involves going back to 1214 England, actually Nottingham to be precise. There, Amanda and her time traveling cohorts meet an adolescent Robin Hood, although he is known as Robyn Hodekin to the people of Nottingham. So, here’s the rub—in The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis, what’s myth and what’s made-up? That’s when it’s up to the reader to seek the truth and dispel the lies.

The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis, Book One

Children are the key to our future. And now, they are the only hope for our past.

When 13-year-old Amanda Sault and her classmates land themselves in hot water after a cafeteria food fight, they're assigned to yard duty as punishment. After the kids uncover a mysterious stone arch hidden in the overgrown backyard owned by the Witch of White Pines, they learn that it's an ancient portal created by the lost civilization of Atlantis.

Chosen by an Atlantean Magus, Amanda and her reluctant companions are swept into the secret world of the Timekeepers: legendary guardians entrusted with preserving history from a sinister force known as Belial. Their first mission? Travel back to 13th-century England to ensure a young Robin Hood fulfills his legendary fate.

But time travel comes with strict rules, and one wrong move could rewrite the past... and erase the future.

Packed with high-stakes adventure and a touch of ancient magic, THE LAST TIMEKEEPERS AND THE ARCH OF ATLANTIS is the first book in Sharon Ledwith's series of novels for middle grade readers and adults alike.

EXCERPT

They were almost inside the glowing archway. Its light felt warm and welcoming, like the rising summer sun. Treena stuck her thumbs in the straps of her khaki backpack as if it doubled as a magic parachute. Amanda mimicked Treena and grasped the straps on Jordan’s backpack that she was still wearing. Ravi was the only other person wearing one, so all the rest had nothing to break their fall if that light suddenly cut them loose.

The brilliant, fathomless glow swallowed Amanda, blinding her. Calm and silence overrode her senses. In that moment, two things happened—Amanda sensed that there was no separation between her and the others—as if they were all connected by these tiny threads of light. Second, she started to feel as though she were free falling, moving fast and out of control. She regained her vision, just as the white light exploded into a whirling rainbow.

Drake laughed. “Wicked! This feels like a ride at Disneyland!”

“It feels better than that!” Jordan replied. “I’ve been to Disneyland twice, and there’s no ride that even comes close to this!”

“It’s as if we can fly!” Treena shouted, doing a somersault in mid-air.

“It does feel wonderful, doesn’t it?” Melody said dreamily.

Amanda grabbed both ankles and flipped herself over. She giggled. This freedom, this feeling, this flux was awesome. The huge, spiraling rainbow surrounding the group of seven gently juggled them in mid-air like floating balls in a never-ending lottery game. She glanced over at Jordan’s uncle. His cheeks were sucked in, and his body flopped one way then another like a fish out of water.

“Is your uncle okay, Jordan?” she asked.

Jordan maneuvered over to his uncle by spreading his arms and legs wide as if he were a free-falling parachutist. He grasped his uncle’s shoulder and shook him. “Uncle John? Uncle John! Don’t make me slap you again!”

He reached over, grabbed Jordan, and kissed him on the forehead. “It’s all true, Jordan! It’s all true!”

Jordan squirmed. “What’s true?”

“Time flows through us,” he answered, his voice cracking as if he were a young boy again.

The whirling rainbow burst into shards of light, and they all touched bottom.

It felt soft—like a cushy trampoline—as Amanda, her classmates, Melody, and Professor Lucas bounced easily until they all stood still. Then the ground became solid again. Polished marble walls and finely crafted pillars materialized through the fading light. A sudden high-pitched buzzing noise made her wince. Everyone seemed to hear it too; they cringed in unison. The sound of waves crashing against a shore replaced the buzzing, and a set of deep purple curtains miraculously appeared in front of them. Amanda rubbed her eyes. In the time it took her to take a breath, the curtains were drawn. The brilliant white light that had pulled them into the stone arch now hovered between the open curtains. It started to radiate out, then draw in, out, then in, changing its shape with each rhythmic movement, until it finally transformed into a woman.

The woman was beautiful in an otherworldly way. She had long, fair, flowing hair adorned with quartz crystals. Piercing blue eyes stared back at Amanda like she was peering into her soul. She had a long narrow face with high cheek bones that tapered down to a firm chin. Her nose was long and slender. Amanda smiled at her. The woman smiled back. Her teeth were white, small, and even. She was perfect in every way. A rich-blue sleeveless linen robe adorned her slim body, accentuating her ivory skin.

I wonder if she’s a princess. Amanda didn’t doubt it, especially with all the jewelry the woman wore. A sparkling metallic snake bracelet wound around her left arm, a string of gleaming pearls and shells hung around her neck, and a silver belt strewn with various green, blue, and red gems hugged her waist. The only piece of clothing that didn’t seem to belong was a plain pair of woven sandals.

Melody pushed Drake behind her and took a few steps forward. “I demand that you tell us where we are!”

The beautiful woman gave Melody a gentle smile and nodded. She opened her arms wide and said, “Welcome to the Temple of Poseidon, in the City of the Golden Gates.”

Melody jerked. “I-I beg your pardon?”

“Atlantis,” Professor Lucas answered in a whisper. “We’re in Atlantis.”

 UNIVERSAL BOOK LINK: https://books2read.com/u/4NE2kx

ADDED BONUS: The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis eBook is permanently free in all online bookstores! Welcome to Atlantis. We’ve been expecting you.

Here’s a glimpse of the premises of both my young adult series:

The Last Timekeepers Time Travel Adventures…

Chosen by an Atlantean Magus to be Timekeepers—legendary time travelers sworn to keep history safe from the evil Belial—five classmates are sent into the past to restore balance, and bring order back into the world, one mission at a time.

Children are the key to our future. And now, they are the only hope for our past.

Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Mysteries…

In the small, quiet tourist town of Fairy Falls, a new-to-town teen, an unlikely hero who possesses an unusual psychic ability, is drawn into a mystery and is tasked with uncovering corrupt truths that threaten the town’s future.

Welcome to Fairy Falls. Expect the unexpected.

Buy Links:

The Last Timekeepers Time Travel Adventure Series:

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The Last Timekeepers and the Arch of Atlantis, Book 1 Buy Links:

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Legend of the Timekeepers, Prequel Buy Links:

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Mysterious Tales from Fairy Falls Teen Psychic Mystery Series:

Lost & Found, Book One Buy Links:

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Blackflies & Blueberries, Book Two Buy Links:

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Sunday, 27 July 2025

Author in the Kitchen: Quench that Dog Day Thirst by Sweet Romance Author Catherine Castle...

Iced tea is summer’s classic drink. I thought it might be interesting to talk about the history of this popular drink before the summer slips away and also share my Nectarine Iced Tea recipe.

The history of tea reaches back to 2737 B.B. when, according to Chinese legend, Emperor Shen Nong accidently discovered tea when a leaf from a wild tea tree fell into a pot of water he was boiling in his garden. He enjoyed the flavor the leaf lent to the water so much that he began to brew it.

Iced tea, however, is much younger. The first recorded recipes in the U.S. for iced tea appeared in The Buckeye Cookbook in 1876 and in 1879 HouseKeeping in Old Virginia. The 1879 recipe, published by Marion Cabel Tyree, called for green tea to be boiled and steeped throughout the day. The liquid was then poured over ice and sugar and served with lemon.

The popularity of iced tea using black tea is believed to have started at the 1904 World's Fair in St. Louis, where Richard Blechynden, the Commissioner of Tea for India and one of the fair's directors, was exhibiting hot black tea. Because the temperatures were high, hot tea wasn't selling. So, Blechynden brewed and chilled the tea, and thirsty fair visitors began buying. The trend caught on and by World War I iced tea appeared in the kitchens of Americans and in restaurants on a regular basis. Today, iced tea—black, green and herbal, in bottles, boxes and pitchers—is a staple on America’s menus.

Iced tea also appears on the tables in other countries, but many have a different take on the drink than Americans do. Here we have what most Southerners know as sweet tea, which is sugared, and regular iced tea—most common with Northerners, which is usually unsweetened. Tea drinkers have the option of adding a squeeze of lemon, or not.

In Brazil, particularly in Rio de Janeiro, mate tea, not the camellia sinensis tea associated with black tea, is the preferred drink for iced tea. Yerba mate dried leaves are boiled in water, then strained and served in cups.



Iced tea in Greece is usually flavored with peach or lemon. If you order peach tea, you’ll still get a lemon slice on the rim of the glass.

Ginger lemon, lemon and peach flavored teas are popular in India.


In Hong Kong tea is served with lemon slices that are crushed, releasing the volatile oils into the tea. There is also a milk tea version of iced tea made with green tea, flavored with jasmine blossoms and tapioca pearls. The tea is served warm and poured over ice, creating a creamy iced tea.

Taiwan has an interesting tea called Bubble Tea. This tea is usually a strong black tea, sweetened with sugar and condensed milk. It is served cold usually with tapioca pearls. Sometimes pudding, jelly, or chunks of fruit are put into it instead of tapioca pearls. Bubble tea can also be made with other types of tea.

Thailand iced tea is made from strongly brewed black tea, sweetened with sugar and condensed milk. Evaporated milk, coconut milk or whole milk are also used. The tea and milk are usually mixed together and then poured over the ice.

You might think that with tea time being a staple in the UK iced tea would be as popular there as in the rest of Europe. But not so. The popularity of iced tea in United Kingdom has only begun to rise since 2000.

Today, when you ask, “Would you like some iced tea?” Most people expect brewed black tea, with or without sugar and lemon. But plain old camellia sinensis isn’t the only option. With hundreds of flavored and herbal teas, the varieties of iced tea are only limited by one’s imagination.

At my house our favorite iced teas are decaffeinated Sun Tea, made by steeping tea bags in cold water using the heat of the sun to brew it, and hibiscus tea made from pouring boiling water over the dried flowers of the hibiscus plant. I’ve even begun putting my leftover morning tea, usually Mrs. Patmore’s Pudding Tea or Irish tea with cream, into the refrigerator and drinking it cold later on in the day. I’m surprised at how tasty it is.

For your summer tea enjoyment, I’ve included a fruity iced tea recipe I developed. I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Nectarine Iced Tea
4 peach flavored green tea bags
2 cups boiling water
1 ripe nectarine
2 fresh, sweet cherries with the stem, optional
Sugar or sweetener to taste

Place tea bags in a 2-cup heat-proof measuring cup. Pour boiling water into cup and steep tea bags according to directions.

Halve the nectarine and peel⅔ of the fruit. Reserving 2 peeled slices for garnish.

Slice the peeled nectarines into sections. Place ½ the sections into a bowl and crush the fruit to break down the flesh and release the juices.

Drop ¼ of the crushed nectarine into two 16-ounce glasses and stir well. Add ice and then remaining peeled nectarines.

Pour cooled tea over the ice and fruit in the glasses.

Garnish the glass edge with the unpeeled fruit and drop a fresh sweet cherry with the stem on into the top of the tea.

Add sugar or sweetener to taste. The riper the fruit the less sweetener you’ll need.

How about a peek at my latest sweet romance while you sip your refreshing tea?

One date for every medical test—that’s the deal. Allison, however, gets more than she bargains for. She gets a Groom for Mama.

Beverly Walters is dying, and before she goes she has one wish—to find a groom for her daughter. To get the deed done, Mama enlists the dating service of Jack Somerset, Allison’s former boyfriend.

The last thing corporate-climbing Allison wants is a husband. Furious with Mama’s meddling, and a bit more interested in Jack than she wants to admit, Allison agrees to the scheme as long as Mama promises to search for a cure for her terminal illness.

A cross-country trip from Nevada to Ohio ensues, with a string of disastrous dates along the way, as the trio hunts for treatment and A Groom For Mama.

EXCERPT
With a sweep of his hand, Jack spread the photos out on the table in front of Allison and Beverly. “Here’s a few I just grabbed from the database. Any of them interesting?” He studied Allison’s reaction. She didn’t bat an eyelash as she scanned the men’s pictures. Then, without warning, she scooped them up and shoved them at him.

“I told Mama I wasn’t going to do this. It’s a stupid idea.”

“I’ll admit it’s not the ‘some enchanted evening, see a stranger across the room’ romantic way to find a husband, but it’s not totally unacceptable. Several of the couples my company has brought together have married.”

“And lived happily ever after?” she retorted.

“It’s a new company, Allison. I don’t have the stats yet.” He pushed the photos across the table. “Just take a peek. What harm can it do?”

Beverly grabbed the photo of a particularly handsome man. “How about this one? His coloring complements yours. You’d have beautiful children.”

Mama!” Allison snatched the photo away. “We’re not going to discuss my possible, yet unlikely, progeny in front of Jack.”

A flash of Allison kissing this guy flew through his head. He grabbed the photo from her. “He’s not your type anyway.”

“And just how do you know?” she asked.

“I dated you, remember? You ditched me for some suave, corporate hotshot. At least it’s what you said.”
“Allison!” Beverly exclaimed. “You never told me that.”

Allison shot him a fierce scowl. “I’m not comfortable discussing my love life with you, Mama. Besides, what’s done and over with should be buried . . . in the past.” She picked up another photo. “What about him? Or him and him?” She pointed to two nerdy-looking fellows. “They seem corporate.”

Mama leaned over and checked out the pictures Allison had indicated. “Too ugly,” she said. “He’s got to be handsome. Like Jack. I want to know my grandbabies will be as beautiful as you two.”

He grinned. “Thanks for the compliment, but I know I’m not your daughter’s type.” He laid a sheet of paper on the counter. “Fill this out. Then I can get a better idea of what you want in a husband.”

“I don’t want—”

“I know,” he interjected. “But, for your mom’s sake, just pretend you do.”

Second Edition Coming Soon

Multi-award-winning author Catherine Castle has been writing all her life. A former freelance writer, she has over 600 articles and photographs to her credit (under her real name) in the Christian and secular market. Now she writes sweet and inspirational romance. Her debut inspirational romantic suspense, The Nun and the Narc, from Soul Mate Publishing, has garnered multiple contests finals and wins.

Catherine loves writing, reading, traveling, singing, watching movies, and the theatre. In the winter she loves to quilt and has a lot of UFOs (unfinished objects) in her sewing case. In the summer her favorite place to be is in her garden. She’s passionate about gardening and even won a “Best Hillside Garden” award from the local gardening club.

Learn more about Catherine Castle on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook and Twitter. Be sure to check out Catherine’s Amazon author page and her Goodreads page. You can also find Catherine on Stitches Thru Time and the SMP authors blog site.

Sunday, 20 July 2025

Guest Post: KEEPING BRITAIN TIDY a Never-ending Task by Fantasy Author Carol Browne...


One of my favourite activities isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, although I wish more people would take it up. Once a week, I join a couple of neighbours and we go litter picking in our local area.

There’s an expression in the UK – “It’s like painting the Forth Bridge.” Said bridge spans the Forth Estuary in Scotland and is so big a structure that, in the days before new tech, painting it was a question of getting to the end only to have to start again at the beginning. It was a task that was never finished and so it is with litter picking.

Have humans become more thoughtless with their rubbish over the years? It does seem so. There’s more packaging on everyday purchases too, and people eat fast food on the go. When did everyone start taking bottled water and cans out with them wherever they went? What is the mentality of fly-tippers who are happy to make their rubbish someone else’s problem rather than dispose of it responsibly themselves?

Litter isn’t just unsightly; it poses serious danger to wildlife and the environment. Broken bottles can injure dogs’ paws and start forest fires. Plastic can holders trap and strangle animals – they should be cut up before disposal. Plastic that is loose in the ecosystem breaks down into tiny fragments that enter our food and water and, eventually, our bodies.

In past ages, rubbish was biodegradable. Forest floors were littered with dead leaves not crisp packets. Broken clay pottery returned to the earth from which it was made. Textiles were mended and reused. Leftover food items became compost to grow more food. There were no cigarette ends ground underfoot, no plastic bags taking flight over windswept fields.

So, my neighbours and I do our bit to clean up the detritus of modern life. We have fun doing it – you’d be surprised what we find! It’s a satisfying pastime because we can see that we’ve made a difference to our neighbourhood, and it sets a good example to others – litterally! Imagine if everyone just kept the area outside their own home litter-free, wouldn’t that be something!

The characters in my epic fantasy trilogy The Elwardain Chronicles would be horrified to see the rubbish-strewn vistas of the 21st century. They would be appalled by our carelessness and lack of respect for nature. Their 6th century world is unspoilt and unpolluted. If you would like to escape to a cleaner, simpler time, why not take a trip through my trilogy and walk into a world of beauty and magic.

The journey begins now with Book 1, The Exile of Elindel, available in eBook and print.

Banished from Elvendom and forced to seek refuge among the Saxons, young Elgiva faces a grim future - until she crosses paths with Godwin, a Briton enslaved by the people she must now call allies.

When a dark power rises to claim dominion over Elvendom, Elgiva and Godwin set off on a dangerous quest for the legendary Lorestone: the only thing that can stop the looming darkness. With a reluctant elf boy as their guide and a stubborn pony by their side, they must navigate the treacherous land and harness ancient magic before it’s too late.

As battle lines are drawn, Elgiva must embrace her true heritage, and Godwin must learn to wield the secret power he possesses. But can they find the Lorestone in time - or will Elvendom fall forever?

An historical fantasy adventure set in 6th century Britain, THE EXILE OF ELINDEL is the first book in Carol Browne's The Elwardain Chronicles series.

UNIVERSAL BOOK LINK


Once upon a time a little girl wrote a poem about a flower. Impressed, her teacher pinned it to the wall and, in doing so, showed the child which path to follow.

Over the years poems and stories flowed from her pen like magic from a wizard’s wand.

She is much older now, a little wiser too, and she lives in rural Cambridgeshire, where there are many trees to hug.

But inside her still is that little girl who loved Nature and discovered the magic of words.

She hopes to live happily ever after.

Stay connected with Carol on her website and blog, Facebook, and Twitter

Tuesday, 15 July 2025

Author in the House: Interview with Middle Grade Fantasy Author Kathryn Rossati...


Welcome to my virtual hub! Today I’m featuring middle grade fantasy author, Kathryn Rossati, who is a fellow author-mate with Next Chapter, and also writes time travel tales. We’re definitely kindred spirits! I loved the questions that she sent me to answer for her blog post recently, so I asked Kathryn if she’d like to be a guest on my blog, and answer those same questions. She loved the idea, so without further ado, here are the results of this collaboration. Enjoy…   

Welcome, Kathryn! When did you realise you wanted to be a writer?

I’ve loved writing down stories since I was very young, as I daydreamed a lot and wanted to keep those daydreamed worlds safe. In terms of writing professionally, as soon as it dawned on me that people actually wrote books for a living, I knew that’s what I wanted to do – so perhaps age eight or nine.

What's your latest book about?

My latest published novel is an upper middle grade time travel story, called Naturally Nic/k. The story focuses on an autistic girl called Nic, who ends up back in time along with two of her bullies, who immediately vanish in the bustle of the Thames Tunnel Fancy Fair. Nic bumps into a young magician, Nikolai, whose brother has gone missing, and decides to team up with him to find out where her bullies and the missing kids from all over London have been disappearing to.

The story is written in dual point of view, with chapters alternating between Nic and Nikolai’s perspectives, and it was great fun to create their individual voices. It’s also the first novel I wrote after receiving my autism diagnosis back in early 2019, and I drafted it at a time when my mental health was really quite low. I’ve very proud of how Naturally Nic/k turned out considering that, and it feels wonderful to have written a character that young autistic people can connect with.

Where do you get your ideas from?

My ideas for books and poems can come from anywhere. Naturally Nic/k was inspired by my husband, who practices card tricks as a hobby, but some of the things that sparked my other books and poetry collections have been turns of phrase, being out in nature, mishearing something, a specific piece of artwork, and other forms of media like TV series and films. Music always fuels my creativity too.

Do you have any writing rituals?

I like to write once all the housework is done for the day, so it’s not cluttering up my mind. (I have ADHD as well as being autistic, so my mind is rather cluttered and busy anyway.) I like a quiet space to write in, though that’s not always possible if my parrot and budgie are playing a game of ‘who can shout the loudest’ – fortunately, I’m used to their shenanigans, so that doesn’t tend to distract me too much (plus I have ear plugs if they or any sounds from outside get too overwhelming). I’m also a fan of having a good cup of tea next to me, though I often forget about it and only remember when it’s gone cold.

What do you hope readers will gain from reading your work?

Escapism, first and foremost. I’m a huge reader myself, and I know the power of settling down with a good book after a stressful or overwhelming day, so my hope is that my books can provide that comfort and enjoyment for someone, if only for a short time.

I also hope that readers will really connect with my characters and the worlds they live in, and particularly in the case of Naturally Nic/k (and a few of my upcoming books), find themselves represented in the narrative.

Who are you favourite authors?

It’s so hard to choose, because there are so many authors whose books I love, but as of this moment, I can think of:

Diana Wynne Jones, whose books cover just about every type of fantasy you might imagine.

Thomas Leeds, who is a spectacular writer and the first author I’ve read who wrote a fantasy adventure trilogy featuring a main protagonist with a brain injury and epilepsy (starting with Jayben and the Golden Torch).

Alan Gibbons, who wrote the amazing Legendeer series which completely blew me away when I read it as a child, and which I still adore now.

Jonathan Stroud, who wrote the excellent Lockwood and Co. series which really got me into paranormal fiction.

Do you have any dreams about where you'd like your writing career to go? (like film adaptations, merchandise, having your book on everyone's shelves?)

It would be lovely to see a stage or screen (either film or series) adaptation of any of my books, but what I would really like is just for more people to discover them.

What's your favourite book/film/song/piece of art?

It’s tough to decide on what my favourite book is, but I’d say Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones. I love the characters, the world, and just the cosy vibes it gives off while reading. It’s one of those books that I can read again and again and always find something new to love about it.

My favourite film is probably The Mummy (1999) which I’ve loved ever since it came out. I’ve always had a fascination with Ancient Egypt (even though I’ve never delved deep into researching it – not yet, at least), and I love a good adventure with some humour, so those things make a winning combination for me.

For music and songs, I think The Mummers’ Dance by Loreena McKennitt is my favourite; I even had it playing at my wedding! It always makes me think of long treks, adventure, and being swept up in a story, and it’s one of the songs I turn to if I’m having a bad day and need something soothing.

My favourite piece of art is by surrealist artist Max Ernst, and actually has a few different titles as it was renamed a few times: The Angel of Hearth and Home/Fireside Angel/The Triumph of Surrealism. I first came across it when I was researching surrealist painters for my art G.C.S.E. many years ago, and something about it really captured me. The story behind the painting is actually about the chaos of politics (or there abouts), but I didn’t know that until recently. I think the reason why I like it is that there’s this fierceness and confusion surrounding the figure, but also a sense of deep pain. It’s very thought provoking.

Any hobbies or things you love to do?

I’ve been learning to paint with watercolour and gouache for the past two years, which I very much enjoy, and I also love to go for walks in nature. Unfortunately, as I have a dynamic disability (hypermobility spectrum disorder and dysautonomia, for anyone who’s curious), I’m not able to go out for walks as often as I’d like. Fortunately, the house my husband and I rent has a lovely garden and we have a birdfeeder, so I often watch the birds outside. I also like playing computer games, mostly fantasy adventure games like The Legend of Zelda (which I’m a huge fan of).

Any other fun facts you'd like to share about yourself or your writing?  

I have several writing projects in the works this year. I’m currently drafting my first ever fantasy novel aimed at adult readers, self-editing a paranormal upper middle grade book which I’m very excited about, and working on a commission involving the Isle of Wight National Landscape (which means I get to develop my nature writing). I also have a poetry collection due to be published all about nature and wildlife, which I’m looking forward to sharing.

Kathryn Rossati. is an AuDHD and disabled author based on the Isle of Wight, and writes young adult
and middle grade fiction, as well as poetry. She’s also an aspiring artist, focusing on watercolour and gouache. 

Kathryn loves most genres of fiction, with a particular soft-spot for books inspired by mythology and fairy tales, and often incorporates those ideas into her own work. She also enjoys narrative non-fiction about nature, folklore, and history. 

She always looks forward to hearing from readers and fellow writers, so if you're a fan of her books or have questions about writing and publishing, feel free to reach out with questions, feedback or just to say hello.

You can connect with Kathryn Rossati at her website: https://linktr.ee/kathrynrossatiwrites