Whisper Bay: Oliver & Chloe: The Beginning"He had spoken in one breath and snatched mine from my lungs in the process." Clean Romance by Sybil ShaeMeet Chloe Tyson and Oliver Pettigrew from Whisper Bay, a small community where everyone knows everyone or at least they think they do. |
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cover by Margaret Daly |
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cover by Margaret Daly Not Available For Individual Purchase At This Time see Make Time For Love Link Below |
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Currently in Kindle Unlimited |
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Cover by Margaret Daly Read The Intro Whisper Bay is a series consisting of 3 parts. This book, part one, contains 3 novelettes. Expected to publish June 30, 2017. You can find Sybil Shae and read samples by clicking here! Or Have a cover designed by Margaret Daly, click here! Thanks for stopping by! We hope you will come back again! |


His visit to the house has awoken that which was sleeping: how many must be taken before IT can be laid to rest?’
For Sale again is Mister Jones’ family home: a house he had known and feared since his childhood. On a nostalgic whim he decides to visit the house, with disasterous results. The house reacts to his appearance and the estate agent who is showing him around vanishes. Shortly afterwards the next agent appointed to handle the sale of the property also disappears.
Mister Jones wants nothing to do with the property. His visit has awoken old memories for him, and the memories are not pleasant. But it is clear that something else has also been awoken by his visit, and when he is begged to help find the young agent who has vanished, he can no longer avoid the responsibility of facing his legacy of evil, and dealing with the curse laid upon the house.
But what will happen when he faces IT, and who will emerge alive?
If you knew just how much of this story is true, how well would you sleep tonight?
Portrait Of A Girl
Does lightning ever strike twice? It would seem so for the unfortunate Mister Jones. After a harrowing encounter with the paranormal in The Showing, once again he again finds himself in mortal danger on the borders of that shadowed world.
An antique painting holds a strange fascination for him - and others. What does the girl in the portrait want from Mister Jones and from the others who become entranced by her beauty? And can she be stopped before she unleashes her ancient evil into our modern world in a lake of blood?
‘This is a great read. I literally devoured it in less than 24 hours. If you liked The Showing... it's better. Spooky. It reads a bit like Sheridan LeFanu or Guy de Maupassant. Awesome. Classic horror short story, except this isn't short. It's a full novel. Just wanted to clarify, it READS like a classic horror short story. Tight, spare and invoking tons of imagination.’
The House Next Door
Mister Jones thought that he was finished with the world of the paranormal: but the paranormal world hadn’t finished with him… His next door neighbour is attracted to a statuette and takes it home. Shortly afterwards, her mother is brutally murdered, - and that isn’t the only death. As the casualties mount and the dead roam free, can Mister Jones stop the tide of evil?
When Sheila Balsam finds herself compelled to buy a genuine antique in a strange little shop, she didn’t bargain for what came with the statuette - and Mister Jones finds himself once again drawn into the dangerous world of the paranormal : this time via the house next door.
An ancient evil has found a way to break from his enchanted prison and the only one who is going to stand in his way is the unfortunate Mister Jones, who seems destined to live in interesting times.
The Curse Of Clyffe House
It was supposed to be a holiday, time away whilst his friend and neighbour wrote a book about their last adventure. But as soon as Mister Jones arrives at the holiday cottage things start to go wrong, and waking up to find a skeleton in his bed is only the start. Terror stalks this cottage and before long Mister Jones discovers an ancient Evil is plotting to wreak devastation across the land; and it plans to start with his death.
Poison, fear, and a horrific Shadow from long ago stand between their survival: can Mister Jones and his friend defeat the Curse of Clyffe House and live?
Coming In The Summer Of 2017
Demon's Reach
Mister Jones discovers more about his family in this fifth novel about his adventures. A relative he had never known appoints him both executor of his estate, and the beneficiary should the main beneficiaries have died before him. Surprised and curious to learn more about his family and their past, Mister Jones journeys to the mist haunted eastern coast of England, and the village of Hawkstowe.
There he finds that his family have an unsavoury reputation locally for their dealings in black magic, and that his arrival is viewed with fear and horror. So scared are the locals that Mister Jones might herald a return to the dreadful times they experienced many years ago that they decide to burn down the house in which he is staying.
Mister Jones must confront demons, monsters, and members of his family both living and dead to escape with his life and his sanity intact.
Meet The Author Will Macmillan Jones
99c
Muffy was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and 'came of age' in France which forged her joie de vivre and love for books and writing. Married and living in the tropical paradise of SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy writes and enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Burt.
Sep 2017 ~ Ribbons of Moonlight Sequel to Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences
Amazon Author Page
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How far would you go to find true love? @Monica_Corwin @mdaly_margaret #IARTG #Romance #RPBP
4/21/2017



Take a look at this young adult book, The Darziods' Stone by Richard Smith. It's not a romance but it's a great read! It is now available in eBook for the introductory price of $1.99!
Fun, scifi and mayhem!
"This is an exciting story! There were quite a few plot twists that I did not expect. I was on the edge of my seat much of the time. There is also magic, action and bravery exemplified as these teens battle against forces they have little comprehension about."

About The Book 'The Darziods' Stone'
When the school summer trip to Blackpool gets cancelled, Harry's parents offer to include Harry's friends in their trip to Tredock Cove in Cornwall. Amelia, Mitch and Asad are grateful - Cornwall will be great and even if it isn't as great as Blackpool, anything is better than being stuck at home, right? Ryan is less convinced. He's not the most open-minded of boys and he sincerely believes that Cornwall is full of carrot-crunchers. But he goes along anyway, even if it is reluctantly. Even Ryan doesn't want to be left at home by himself.
And it doesn't take long for the quiet break in Cornwall to turn into something much more exciting - and frightening. The kids find a secret code and become convinced that cracking it will lead them to hidden treasure. And it might well do, but the code will also lead them to something much more dangerous... because as readers of The Darziods' Stone will already know, thanks to a prologue dating back to 1798, Tredock Cove was once the scene of something very sinister indeed. A ship returning from the Napoleonic wars once stopped off there. Its captain and boatswain were murdered and the rest of the crew disappeared, never to be found. The world never knew this but an experiment conducted by a band of prisoner alchemists, led by the evil de Richlieu, was to blame.
As our heroes search for treasure, they find themselves pitted against these ancient forces and they will need some extraterrestrial help if they ever hope to defeat them.
5 Star Amazon Review!
"In love, as in war, timing is everything. Without it, we would all suffer from a lonely lifetime of six degrees of separation. Nothing happens until we meet, share a wistful glance, a brushing touch, a fleeing kiss or a heart beating as one. Have you ever thought of what might have happened if you chose another road or direction? Kissed a different man?
If you love toe-curling, heart-stopping, fast-paced eager romance, spanning time and overcoming obstacles, you will love this first release and introduction of Sybil Shae to the world of publishing.
Fall in love all over again, and again, because you will not be able to put this book down until you have embraced every word. And when you do? You’ll pick it up to read it again. Yes, it’s that good for what is better for the soul than a timeless romance? What feeds hope more than love?"


“Loved it! Such a clever story. Can’t wait to read the next book in this new series!”
“Well written! Impressed with the way the story explores time travel and relationships”
“Sybil Shae is a genius! This story is well thought out and loaded. BRAVO!”
That’s what I do—I deploy photographs for advertising purposes at a major Manhattan marketing firm. Most of the photos I wind up using are not taken by professionals, or at least no one more professional than might have taken your senior picture; they’re uploaded to PBase or Flickr or any of a couple hundred other image databases, and if they’re copyrighted then we pay twenty-five or fifty or a hundred bucks a pic. But then, with a little careful editing and some clever design work, that picture helps to make my clients millions. Of course, we do use some professional photographers, and if I can’t find just the right image after hours of looking I might commission a shoot or take a few shots myself, but most of what I do is look at what other people have done and imagine how it can be used for some purpose they could never have dreamed of when they did it.
That is, I suppose, why at Christmastime last year my grandma gave me the scrapbook. Now I know what you’re thinking and I was too, I’m about as far away from a scrapbooking grandmother as they come, but Grandma had something of the artist’s eye and the marketer’s spirit in her too—she’d designed the endcaps and window displays at Gimbel’s for years—and she understood, at least in principle, what it was I was trying to do. So, after the regular family gift exchange, and the obligatory large meal, while most everyone else was catching an afternoon nap, she called me into her bedroom.
“Kelly,” she said, patting the bed beside her and speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve got something else for you, but I didn’t want to do it in front of the rest of the family.”
I nodded my head and closed the door, then darted over to the bed with perhaps just a little too much glee.
“What is it, Gran?” She’d done things like this before, but it was mostly concerning my quirky sense of fashion or what my painfully conventional mother had always called an “artistic temperament”.
She held out a bundle wrapped in old butcher paper and tied up with twine. I looked at her skittishly and rolled my eyes but she just smirked and waved for me to open it up. Inside was, as I said, a scrapbook; well, I suppose it was something like a pre-scrapbook. It was a simple leather-bound journal, obviously with some age on it, and I could see from the way the pages bulged that there were photos pasted or clipped or taped inside. I looked at her again asking a question with my eyes, and she answered in kind, indicating I should open it up.
Inside the front page sat a single photo, centered more or less perfectly, and clearly pasted to the paper. It showed a simple little cottage which had clearly been built in two sections; the roof over one side appeared to be thatch, the other was corrugated iron. Standing out front were three young women: the eldest appeared to be about sixteen, while the others were probably fourteen and twelve. The younger girls were in plain dresses, probably homemade; one had a kerchief on her head, and the other had taken it off and tied it around her neck. Between the two, her arms around their shoulders was the eldest girl, looking very mature in a skirt-suit and hat, her hair stylishly done beneath and a prim little purse in one hand hanging off of the younger girl’s shoulder. Beneath was a caption which in neat, handwritten cursive simply read, “Leaving Home, 1945” and beneath it, “Clifden, Co. Galway, Ireland”.
“That was the day I left home,” she said. “I actually added that one later, after your Aunt Mickaela sent the photo by post. International mail used to take ages back in those days.”
I nodded my head absently as I turned the page. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.
There’s a famous picture of a sailor kissing a nurse out in front of Radio City Music Hall on V-J Day. It’s iconic and is shown in most World War II documentaries and such. Like a lot of the photos I mentioned before, it’s artistic value is questionable: the couple are slightly off-center, his hand is obscuring almost all of her face, it’s not clear if she’s really into it (she wasn’t as it turned out, but his enthusiasm was probably understandable); but it captured a moment in history unlike any other, and the enthusiasm on the sailor’s face is attractive to us still today, so it seems to work.
Sitting there, on the second page of my grandma’s old scrapbook was the Irish version of that same image. They were out in front of a Dunne’s Department Store, I thought I might’ve even recognized it from my trips back home with Gran. The man was wearing a British military uniform, but that wasn’t unusual given Irish neutrality during the war. The woman was not wearing a nurse’s uniform, but in fact the same skirt-suit as in the previous picture. And the most startling thing of all was not that she was kissing a man just back from the war, nor even that the man wasn’t may grandad (he had fought but was already living over here), but that she was doing the kissing.
“Gran!” I cried out in a stage whisper. “Who is this?”
She giggled to herself. “I haven’t the foggiest idea! I didn’t at the time either. But when I arrived at the port at Cobh to take my passage to America, there was a ship arriving with soldiers left to help clean up in France after the war. Most had been gone for three or four years; many had families waiting for them, everyone was kissing, and I saw this poor fella all by his lonesome, and I figured he deserved at least as warm a homecoming as the rest.” She flushed slightly.
I looked back and forth between her and the picture. “But where did you get this one from? Surely your sisters didn’t send this too”
“Ah, Gawd no!” She laughed to herself. “No, I went off to Cobh by myself; mother said it would be easier that way. No, I found this in a back copy of the Irish Times they were using to wrap fish and chips at the AOH Hall where I met your Granddad.”
I laughed, beginning to flip through the book more generally. “Hang on here, Gran,” I said. “The captions stop.”
Now the real grin came out. I knew when she got that twinkle in her eye that she was up to something, and she could barely suppress her delight.
“That’s the whole point. At first I was going to try and document my journey to America, how I made my life here, and how I built my family. But then, after I saw that picture in the old newspaper, I saw how my life could have been different. So I started collecting pictures that didn’t fit; any shot that showed a turning point or time where life went one way but could have gone another. And when your Granddad or the kids would drive me too nuts, or the work at Gimbel’s would just seem too much, I’d pull this out and indulge in a little fantasizing.”
“And what did Grandpa think of all this?”
She chuckled to herself. “He never knew.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
She bobbed her head like a doll on a dashboard. “Absolutely. I kept no other secrets from your grandad. I was faithful to him for more than sixty years. But to keep the peace in our relationship I kept this scrapbook and every couple of months I’d pull this out and spend an afternoon just…imagining.”
I was moved, not only by the gift but by her trust in me. Impulsively I leaned forward and hugged her tight. She grunted slightly.
“Thank you, Gran.” I let her go and sat back. I looked down at the book. “What do you want me to do with it? Add my own pictures?”
Gran shook her head. “Of course not. Do what you do?”
“What I do?”
“What is it you call it?” She gave me that smirk again. “Deploy the pictures?”
“You want me to use them in ads?”
“If you can make any money off of them, then they’ll have done us both some good. If not, at least use them as I did, to imagine…other things.” Her voice lilted at the end and we laughed over it together.
I reached forward and hugged her again. This time, as we released, she leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the forehead.
“I love you, Dearie.”
“I love you too, Gran.”
And that was the last time we ever spoke. She was dead by the New Year.
Sitting in a chair, at a desk with headphones on, typing away...
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Chicks Dig Scars by Kathleen Grieve
When Death Steps In...
Kathleen Grieve
Committed and compassionate intensive care nurse, Rachel O'Dea will do anything to save her patients. But when she loses a kind and loving man whom she forged a fatherly relationship with, Rachel unravels.
...or so everyone thinks.
The calm and soothing voices Rachel hears and the apparitions she sees are of the deceased man and his late wife as they navigate and persuade her to make important choices in her life, leading her right where she's supposed to be.
Free clinic doctor, Devon Jameson, needs more hands on deck. He can't possibly handle all the medical cases alone. When Rachel walks in, volunteering her services, he knows he has no choice other than to take her on board as she proves her worth when a pediatric trauma is left on his doorstep and thereâs no one else to assist. As the two begin working together, their lives intertwine and the attraction intensifies. Scarred deeply by their past and their pain, Rachel and Devon begin a future only angels could predict.

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Phase, my ass! It's a hunger! Damaged by L.M. Lee #99cent #NewRelease #Contemporary #Erotic #Romance
3/28/2017
Oliver Bentley remembers Emma as an unlikable girl, only the present Emma is nothing like her. He doesn’t want to find her desirable, but everything—from her inner strength, to her warm eyes, to the fierce love she has for her daughter, to his constant hunger for her—makes him want her more. The thing is…he doesn’t hate her at all.

For a dozen heartbeats, we study one another—long enough to turn my insides to the outside. A mischievous look takes over her face. “We’ll take your truck…if you can promise to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Are you implying I can’t?”
She steps closer, until her eyes are level with my collarbone. “I’m pretty sure you can’t.”
“I can stay away from you,” I tell her, knowing it’s a lie. Even now, it’s taking all I have to not touch her. Emma’s skin is warm, and silky, and smells sweet, like she’s been dipped in sugar.
“Oh?”
Nodding, I walk backward, away from Emma. An invisible rope pulls taut, telling me to stay close. Out of touching distance is too far. Damn it, I can’t even fool myself. I’ve got it bad for this woman. It’s just a phase. My mouth thins. Phase, my ass.
It’s a hunger.
Author
Sitting in a chair, at a desk with headphones on, typing away...That’s where you’ll find Sybil Shae most days. She loses track of time and reality as she dives into her romance world, becoming one with her characters and growing with them as they appear through words on the tablet screen in concert with the imagery of a fool’s paradise we all visit in our dreams.
Sybil Shae writes romance, both spicy romance and clean reads. She feels it, breathes it, and has built her world around it. Love is at the center of all things. Welcome to Sybil’s world.
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