**Due to intermittent internet problems on my side of the world, I’m posting this a bit early**
I’d like to introduce Anita Birt, another great author with Cerridwen Press.
Anita says that for her, writing romance novels is like having a love affair with words. Characters emerge. Plots develop. Crises erupt. Her historical stories are set in England, Scotland and Wales, countries she knows well.
The writing gene is in Anita’s blood as well. Her mother, Elsie Bell Gardner, wrote adventure stories for girls. Although The Maxie Books are out of print they can be tracked down at ABE Books.
Anita is an avid reader and knitter. She lives on Vancouver Island with her husband, three African violets, a Christmas cactus that never blooms at Christmas and a demanding computer that sulks when neglected.
Blurb:
On a sunny June morning in Llandrindod Wells, Sally Carter stops for coffee at the Celtic Café. She notices a beautiful young woman dressed in somber Victorian black sitting at a window table weeping over the pages of a diary. When the girl disappears without a trace and the waitress insists the table had been vacant all morning, Sally is compelled to discover the girl’s identity.
Unraveling the mystery leads Sally on a wild goose chase with the assistance of Dr. Dan Conway, a handsome Welsh history professor. But it’s not until she returns home to Toronto that the final pieces of the puzzle fall into place.
Even then the question lingers. Why was Sally the only person to see the girl?
by
Excerpt:
Sally was brushing her teeth when the phone rang. Spitting out foaming toothpaste, she rinsed her mouth and dashed to answer it.
“Dan Conway, Ms. Carter. Are you free this afternoon?”
“Sure, any time you are.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Where shall I meet you?”
“In the lobby.” Before leaving the bedroom she scanned her reflection in the bathroom mirror and hoped the dear old professor wouldn’t be shocked at her short shorts and clingy T-shirt. After sending her hiking clothes to the hotel laundry, her wardrobe choices were limited. She had one summer dress too pretty to waste on detective work.
She freshened her lipstick, picked up her handbag with her notes, hurried downstairs and dropped into a chair facing the entrance. He arrived within five minutes looking very professorish. About five eight, slightly stooped, gray hair, thick glasses perched on the end of his nose. Sally hurried over to greet him.
“Dr. Conway, thank you for coming.”
The man backed away. A worried frown creased his brow. “Oh dear me, you’ve made a mistake. I’m looking for my wife. She’s supposed to meet me here.”
“Ms. Carter?”
Sally recognized the voice and whirled around. Momentarily speechless, she stared at Dr. Conway. A solid six foot and then some with broad shoulders, a strong, well-muscled neck and dark brown curly hair. He was handsome in a rugged kind of way, more like a street fighter than a history prof. The sleeves of his faded blue denim shirt were rolled up to his elbows. He had a sports watch on his left wrist.
Sally pulled herself together, smiled and held out her hand. “Dr. Conway, I presume? I’ve frightened that elderly gentleman. I mistook him for you.”
“Please drop the doctor, I’m Dan.”
Humor lurked in his green eyes. He held her hand for a few seconds and the Earth shifted under Sally’s feet. Unreal.
She withdrew her hand and dropped her gaze to the safety of his denim shirt. His touch had triggered an aftershock, probably from surprise when she’d expected a musty old professor.
“I’m Sally. I hope I haven’t dragged you here on a wild goose chase.”
“Not at all, your story interests me.”
His matter-of-fact comment reassured her. “I’ve made some notes,” she said. “Let’s sit in the garden behind the hotel. It’s pretty back there.”
In her sexually deprived condition Dan was too overpoweringly male for her to cope with, but he’d changed his plans to accommodate her. She could hardly fall ill, plead a headache and retreat to her room. That would be cowardly. But two years as a single woman had made her wary of men’s intentions. Dan Conway wasn’t on trial. Not yet. Depended on whether he kept his hands to himself while they solved the mystery of the girl in the café.
All the same she wished she hadn’t sent her loose cotton shirts and jeans to the hotel laundry. Her navy shorts were too short and her white T-shirt hugged her breasts leaving nothing to the imagination. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
This was a wonderful book. I enjoyed if from the start to the finish.
by Anny Cook February 1st, 2008 at 5:19 ami love the title of your book.
by peggy February 1st, 2008 at 12:17 pmthe excerpt is great.
Great excerpt! Like this Friday feature.
by NIna Nash February 1st, 2008 at 1:40 pmA brief window of connectivity!! I so so so hate it when our internet is down, I feel so cut off!
Anita’s excerpt is great isn’t is? Thanks for stopping by everyone!
Jenyfer
by Anonymous February 2nd, 2008 at 5:57 amLoved the blog. First time I heard of you. I found you through link from another site. Your books look interesting.
by squiresj February 3rd, 2008 at 3:06 amI also have a Christmas Catcus that never blooms at Christmas. I am told to put in darkness in Oct awhile but nothing really works.