My journey into the past: researching Madame Rebelle – #HistoricalRomance #WWII #Review #Giveaway

By Amber Leigh Williams (Guest Blogger)

During research for Madame Rebelle, I immersed myself in 1940s France to the point I began to dream in French (…or gibberish. Three semesters of high school French hardly make me fluent). One of the most interesting things I learned about the region of Champagne is that beneath the landscape is a network of limestone caves. This system of caves, known to local Champenois as crayères, is so vast that it was transformed into underground cities during the First World War.

Let's back up a bit. Actually, let's back up a lot—to the 3^rd and 4^th centuries when the crayères came into existence. Then, the Romans plumbed the wealth of chalk and salt deposits beneath the cities of Reims and Épernay, leaving behind subterranean tunnels and chambers the size of cathedrals. Fast forward to the 17^th and 18^th centuries when champagne growers realized how great their sparkling wine responded to the conditions presented by these ready-made cellars. Temperatures were ideal for aging and conditions underground never varied.

Champagne became vastly popular, of course. So popular that the more prominent champagne houses of the time expanded the crayères for aging and storage purposes. Several champagne houses in Champagne still use the original caves as a place to store and mature their product, such as France's oldest champagne house, Ruinart, founded in 1729. Its caverns run over 130 feet deep.

I guess we should have started even further in the past before human beings came into existence when Champagne was covered by warm water and bathed in a tropical clime. In one cave, some 300 species of fossilized shells have been uncovered. It is known as Cave aux Coquillages, or Shell Cave.

The history of the crayères is remarkable, to say the least, but never were they so remarkable than in the early 1900s when Champagne came under German bombardment. Instead of evacuating, the people of Reims fled into the caverns. There, they built cities complete with housing, hospitals, chapels, and schools. One cave, owned by the champagne house Taittinger, housed 200 students alone. As brutal warfare continued on the surface, hundreds of people spent the duration of the war in the safety of the crayères. Today, visitors to the caves can still see their carvings on the walls.

I was so intrigued by the stories from the caves that I knew they would play a major role in Madame Rebelle. When we meet the main character, Edmee Guillon, a young war widow in 1943, she is secretly using the crayères underneath her family's vineyard to hide refugees from the German Army. Over the course of the story, the crayères become the hiding place for a good many things Edmee must hide from the Germans and her family, including a wounded man in a German uniform who isn't at all what he seems.

I hope you have enjoyed learning about crayères and I hope you become as lost in 1943 Champagne with Madame Rebelle as much as I have been since my research journey started. Santé!

Blurb

Rebel. Smuggler. Spy.

Champagne, France 1943

Meet Madame Rebelle. Edmee Guillon is a smuggler. She hides people from the German troops surrounding her ancestral home. When a dying man in a German uniform seeks refuge at Maison Boutet, Edmee struggles to believe his claims that he is French. Her life, the maison and the people she loves are already at stake. Can she take the chance that this mysterious spy is who he says he is? And which side of this war is he really on?

Christian Vovk has been betrayed by someone inside his resistance organization. He knows asking the striking young war widow to hide him will put her in certain danger. However, Christian can help Edmee save as many refugees as she can. Falling in love with her will hinder his duty to the operation that brought him to her doorstep in the first place. When love and duty become inevitably tangled, will Christian sacrifice one for the other?

Excerpt

“You'll need to look as normal as possible.”

“What do I know of normal?” Edmée asked. “I’m tall. I have bright red hair. And I have this.” She waved at the mark on her chin.

The birthmark was unfortunate. Not because it was unpleasant to look at. It made an already interesting face fascinating to look at. It was unfortunate because it would be easy to remember. She was memorable. Christian wondered how long after they parted in Franche-Comté he would think about Edmée Guillon. “Do you think this is something you can do?” he asked.

She crossed to the table. Linking her hands on its surface, she gathered herself. “The hardest part will be convincing my uncle to let me go.”

“Use the same story we practiced,” he advised. “Practice it again. Your first pass at it can be with your uncle as your audience. You’ll gain confidence if he buys it.”

Her eyes circled his features. “You’ve trained other people to do this before.”

She was skilled at reading people. Reading him. He wasn’t an open book. But she saw him. He tried not to think about the growing admiration behind his regard for her. Leaning toward her in the halo of light from the lantern between them, he said, “You’re going to do fine, Edmée.”

“I hope so.”

Review by Lisabet Sarai

In September, 1943, France has been invaded by the Germans and partitioned into two sections, the south controlled by the authoritarian collaborator Vichy government, the north under direct German occupation. Red-headed widow Edmée Guillon lives in the latter, on her uncle’s Julien’s estate in the Champagne region. Julien maintains cordial relations with the occupying forces, supplying them with the best wines from the family vineyards. Meanwhile Edmée, her cousin Jacqueline and Jacqueline’s husband Michel secretly smuggle “undesirables” to countries outside the Nazi sphere of influence. Their charges – Jews and others who would otherwise be sent to concentration camps – secretly shelter in local caves until Edmée and her accomplices can acquire forged identity papers and pass the fugitives on to other members of the resistance who help them escape.

One night Edmée comes upon a seriously wounded man wearing a German uniform in the woods near the estate. Conflicted and suspicious, but unable to abandon a fellow human being in need, she hides him underground and gradually nurses him back to health. The man, who calls himself Christian, claims to be French despite his clothing. Edmée soon realizes that he is a spy of some sort, with secret goals he will not share, for what he claims is her own safety. Despite his concerns, however, Edmée becomes ensnared in his strategies and plans, engaging in increasingly risky endeavors to support his plans and to escort one last band of refugees to freedom.

I generally enjoy historical romance, but in most books in this genre, the history takes second place to the romantic relationship. Madame Rebelle is a welcome exception. Amber Leigh Williams does a magnificent job bringing the period to life – in particular the fear that pervades everything in the heroine’s world. Edmée’s conscience leads her into actions that could easily result in her being imprisoned, tortured or executed. Everyone around her – in particular the enigmatic but admirable Christian – faces the same risks.

At the same time, the author doesn’t turn the Nazis into cardboard super-villains. Partly because of her relationship to her collaborator uncle, the occupying forces treat Edmée with some level of courtesy, giving her the opportunity on several occasions to deceive them.

In one of my favorite sequences, Edmée agrees to travel by train to the city of Troyes to deliver a message for Christian. She’s nearly unmasked as a spy, but her courage and her ability to think quickly under pressure help her to escape detection. She has both a strong moral compass and a powerful survival instinct. Nevertheless, she’s still very human. The author lays bare her doubts, her flaws, her insecurities and her deep-seated sense of betrayal by her deceased cowardly husband. That shame may be part of what drives her in the direction of heroism, a desire to make amends and to make a difference.

The romantic elements in this story simmer beneath the surface, as Edmée and Christian gradually come to trust and to admire one another. Given the desperate circumstances in their lives, this is realistic. Eventually they do come together, as we suspect they will. That consummation, however, is not the author’s primary focus.

Instead, she wants to show readers the realities of the historical period: the brutality, the treachery and the bravery. The book includes extensive notes on the historical background. In the preface, Ms. Williams provides a very personal discussion of the novel’s roots, which stretch back to the first time she read Anne Frank’s diary. Indeed, the book is dedicated to Anne, which seems very apt.

Madame Rebelle is not a light book. It’s not a story you’ll forget. If, like me, you are a fan of strong, heroic women, I suspect that it is a story you will enjoy.

About the Author

Amber Leigh Williams writes pulse-pounding romantic suspense, historical fiction, and contemporary romance. When she’s not writing, she enjoys traveling and being outdoors with her family and dogs. She is fluent in sarcasm and is known to hoard books like the book dragon she is. An advocate for literacy, she is an ardent supporter of libraries and the constitutional right to read.

Website: https://amberleighwilliams.com

Instagram: https://instagram.com/amberleighwilliams

Facebook: https://facebook.com/amberleighwilliamsbooks

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B0030VZW2C?ccs_id=972a6661-be68-4275-b311-8f8e0b259f83

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2713894.Amber_Leigh_Williams

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/amber-leigh-williams

Madame Rebelle - Purchase Links

Amazon Ebook: https://a.co/d/b7e849S

Amazon Paperback: https://a.co/d/cIS1iOp

Amber’s Website: https://amberleighwilliams.com/madame-rebelle

Amber Leigh Williams will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.

 

Not perfection, but presence – #SelfHelp #Relationships #Giveaway

Blurb

In an age of extreme technology and growing separation, we've lost our way. We've traded authentic human connection for a world of aggressive tactics, self-serving behaviors, and fleeting transactions that leave us feeling isolated and unfulfilled.

The Art of Human Connection offers a powerful and ethical alternative, a return to our shared humanity.

This educational book is your essential guide to mastering the simple yet profound skills that form the bedrock of true success. Through a series of practical insights and transformative principles, you will learn how to:

- Cultivate Self-Awareness: Understand your own emotional landscape and its impact on every interaction.

- Build Authentic Relationships: Master the art of empathy and genuine communication to forge instant rapport and build lasting trust.

- Navigate with Confidence: Learn to move through professional and personal challenges with less friction and more grace.

"The truest version of a person is never who they perform to be, it is who they become when they forget to perform!"

This is a powerful call to action, inviting you to reflect on your own experiences and visualize a clear path to improvement. By embracing this approach, you will discover a liberating truth: your greatest success and most profound connections begin the moment you stop performing and simply start being.

Excerpt

The Ultimate Hack to Connecting: Forget the Script and Just Be Real

I remember a colleague sharing with me about the recent time walking into a boardroom once where the air felt heavy. Everyone sat stiff, guarded, waiting for the “pitch.” You could almost hear the silent checklist in their minds: Is this person credible? Are they trying too hard? Can I trust them? In that moment, he felt the old instinct to perform, to tighten my shoulders, polish my words, and deliver the perfect script. But then he remembered a truth from The Art of Human Connection:

“The truest version of a person is never who we perform as, it is who we become when we forget to perform.”

So, he dropped the act. He softened his posture, smiled, not the rehearsed kind, but the kind that comes from seeing the people in front of him. He asked a question and let the silence linger. And something shifted. The room exhaled. People leaned in. The barrier dissolved.

That’s the real hack to connection: not perfection, but presence.

Drop the Act: Your Silent Superpowers

Before you speak, your body and voice are already telling your story.

• Body Language: Open posture, relaxed shoulders, and a genuine smile signal honesty and collaboration. When you’re real, others mirror it back.

• Voice: Let your tone carry warmth and variety. Use pauses like punctuation, moments that invite attention and reflection.

The Detective Mindset: Reading the Room

Connection isn’t just about what you say, it’s about what you notice.

• The Pause: After asking a meaningful question, resist the urge to fill the silence. Watch what emerges in the stillness.

• The Cues: A drop in energy signals resistance. A nod and steady eye contact?

That’s your green light to go deeper.

The Liberating Truth

You don’t need to be flawless. You just need to be real.

When you stop performing and start observing, when you trade polish for presence, you become magnetic, not because you’re perfect, but because you’re human, and in a world full of scripts, nothing is more refreshing than someone who simply shows up as themselves.

Ditch the Baggage: Forgive Past Flops

Everyone makes mistakes, and sometimes, a conversation just feels clumsy. But dwelling on past perceived failures leads to Self-Condemnation and overthinking, hindering your ability to connect now. The solution is simple but hard: don’t let past perceived failures sabotage your present interactions. Remember, failure happens only when we quit. 

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Art-Human-Connection-Professional-Interaction-ebook/dp/B0CWDKJV3P

About the Author

Adir Biniamini is a visionary coach and the author of The Art of Human Connection. His journey into coaching began after a long and successful entrepreneurial career where he learned firsthand that genuine connection is the cornerstone of success.

From working at a flea market as a teenager to launching multiple businesses, Adir quickly discovered the power of authentic communication. A pivotal piece of advice, "Be exactly who you are . . . real, friendly, inviting," became his guiding light. Thirty years and successful businesses later, this commitment to genuine human connection remains the cornerstone of his success.

Adir's unique philosophy, forged from a lifetime of business and personal challenges, is built on the belief that a deep connection to ourselves is the key to creating meaningful relationships with others. Through his work, he helps clients master the essential skills of emotional intelligence and rapport, empowering them to navigate challenges and create lasting success in every facet of their lives.

https://adirbiniamini.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/60102851.Adir_Biniamini

Adir Biniamini will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.

Friday Friends: Luscious femdom from Lawrence Westerman -- #Femdom #FridayFriends

Today I’m starting a new feature here at Beyond Romance: Friday Friends.

I’ve been part of the erotica and romance writing communities for two and a half decades. I’m grateful to be surrounded and supported by so many talented and creative people. Over the years, they’ve critiqued my works in progress; shared my books through their blogs and social media; reviewed my stories; and buoyed my spirits when I’m feeling frustrated by the difficulty of reaching readers.

Beginning this week, at least one Friday per month I’ll be creating posts that showcase my author friends and their work. This isn’t just marketing. In many cases, I’ve read and reviewed their books, and can recommend them to my own readers.

Today I want to introduce you to the work of Lawrence Westerman, who writes femdom erotica that is sensitive as well as sensual. Although Lawrence’s work is sublimely kinky, it’s also intelligent and character-driven. His personal fascination with powerful, dominant women comes through clearly in every story he creates.

Here’s a sampling of his books.

 

Adoring slobs become devoted subs on the Hubby Improvement Plan!

Devin must clean up his act. He secretly loves serving Uma, but does he have what it takes to succeed?

Uma will settle for nothing less than absolute perfection. When Devin confesses his desire to serve, they embark on a journey from which there can be no return. Together they explore the outer limits of female domination—domestic servitude, strap-on play, corporal punishment, remote control domination, electro-play, enforced male chastity and sexual humiliation.

What happens when a loving couple plunges headlong into femdom? Sign up for the “Hubby Improvement Plan” and find out!

Only the fortune teller knows how deep the rabbit hole goes.

When Martin confesses his kinky desires to his beautiful wife Nicole, he doesn't know what kind of rabbit hole he’s fallen into. She enthusiastically embraces the dominant role. As she takes him deeper, he wonders—is she trying to put the spark back in their marriage—or gain control?

As Nicole reveals part of her past, he must confront his deepest fears. Can he endure the humiliation of being Nicole’s submissive cuckold? Only the fortune teller knows for sure.

Take a deep dive into the dark heart of dominance and submission.

Bootboy has done the inexcusable. He stands accused of disrespecting Commander Lenore and defying her orders. Now he must defend himself before an unforgiving judge and nine pitiless, black-robed counselors, or face being banished from House Anais.

Why has Commander Lenore forsaken him? In a matriarchy like Ortheria, none will believe the word of a lowly male slave. Without his commander to serve, Bootboy's life will lose all meaning and purpose.

Never in the history of Ortheria has a slave been permitted to defend himself before the High Court. Bootboy has no memory of committing the offenses of which he’s been accused. He knows the charges against him are false, but his fate rests on his ability to win over the judge without knowing who is accusing him or why.

Bootboy’s Baptism of Fire is the first book of The Bootboy Chronicles, a trilogy blending femdom fantasy with sword and sorcery-style action. It takes place in Ortheria, a matriarchy where women rule and men are slaves. The stories chronicle the adventures of Commander Lenore and Bootboy as they defend Ortheria against rebel bandits and other dark forces seeking to destroy it.

 

Will Commander Lenore and Bootboy end up as flies caught in the Spider Queen’s web?

Bootboy is Commander Lenore’s devoted slave—serving at her feet, polishing her boots till they gleam, and protecting her with his life. Whether brandishing a sword in her service or satisfying her voracious carnal appetites, Bootboy’s allegiance is always to his commander. 

When the sultry Lieutenant Sierra comes to visit, he must serve his female superiors on his knees while they make passionate love, laugh at his expense, and use him in the most intimate ways imaginable. 

What more could a humble slave ask for?

With the matriarchy in the grip of a terrible plague, the commander, lieutenant, and Bootboy are called upon to vanquish a malevolent force deep in the heart of Ravenwood. Frivolity soon turns to terror when they are confronted by dark forces beyond their understanding. In shadowy places far beneath the earth, their strength and endurance are tested like never before. Caught between two opposing forces, Bootboy is buffeted about like a rag doll in the wind. Only his courage, loyalty, and devotion can prevent the destruction of everything he loves.

I particularly love Lawrence’s Bootboy Chronicles series, which combines femdom tropes with epic fantasy. Here’s a spicy excerpt from Curse of the Spider Queen.

Excerpt

“Aren’t you going to say hello?” She pushed back her hood. Lieutenant Sierra seemed not to have aged since the last time I’d seen her. Her skin was impervious to wrinkles and had deepened to the color of chocolate in the sun. Her generous mouth seemed almost too wide for her face, but her smile lit up the room. When she removed her cloak, I saw her hair was bound in braids that hung around her shoulders and down her back like long black snakes. She wore brown leather armor and brown knee-high boots. Her body was sleek, muscular, and battle-ready. My heart filled with joy at the sight of her.

“Lieutenant! I’m so happy to see you! It’s been so long!”

“Lieutenant Sierra! You’re a sight for sore eyes! Welcome to House Anais!” Commander Lenore entered the room, hair tousled, with a blanket wrapped around her. She embraced her friend in a warm hug. As she did, the blanket dropped to the floor revealing her nakedness.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Commander!” Lieutenant Sierra stood a full head taller than Commander Lenore. She placed a possessive hand on the commander’s bottom, pulling her in closer.

I watched transfixed as they kissed. The rich brown of the lieutenant's complexion was an enchanting contrast to the commander’s creamy whiteness. The commander opened her legs, pressing her mons against the lieutenant's leather boot as their tongues intertwined. When they finally disengaged, they grinned at each other.

“How long has it been?”

“Over ten years!”

“You haven’t aged a day. A wood nymph must have enchanted you.” Commander Lenore snapped her fingers. “Bootboy, where are your manners? Take the lieutenant's cloak and hang it up!”

“Right away, Commander.” As I took the lieutenant’s cloak, a little brown spider skittered outof the folds and ran up my arm. I hurriedly shook it off and crushed it underfoot.

“Another one of those spiders?”

“Yes, ma’am.” I replied with chagrin.

“Apologies. They seem to be everywhere these days,” she said to Lieutenant Sierra. “I’m so glad to see you. So happy you made it here safely from House Octavia.”

“Thank you, Commander. I almost didn’t. We encountered bandits on the road.”

“I was afraid of that. The roads aren’t safe for women or beasts anymore. Bootboy, have you forgotten how to greet a superior when she enters the room?”

Glaring at me sternly, Commander Lenore slipped on an elegant, black, satin robe. Her black hair was clustered, bushy, and unkempt around her face. A long silver streak ran dramatically down one side, so vivid it could have been painted there. She’d been napping and sleep still clung to her eyes. There was something infinitely adorable about her when she’d just awoken. Sometimes, I almost forgot she was a warrior capable of wiping out an entire platoon single-handed.

“Beg pardon, Lieutenant.” I knelt before Lieutenant Sierra and reverently kissed the toe of her boot, dusty and caked with mud. She reached down and ruffled my hair.

“I like his beard. It makes him look more like a boot man than a boot boy.”

“Thank you. It suits his position as my bull, though he’s really more like my slave. I can also lead him around by it.”

Lieutenant Sierra giggled.

“Remove her boots, slave. You'll clean and polish them later when you have time.”

Lieutenant Sierra extended her foot so I could remove her boot. I knelt before her, doing my best to pull it off without falling over backward. She offered me the other boot and I removed that one too. Her feet were fragrant, having been trapped in leather boots all day. I eagerly kissed her toes, savoring their delicious aroma.

“Don’t get carried away!” Commander Lenore laughed. “I have big news. At my request, Lieutenant Sierra is taking over as our captain of the guard. That means she’ll be taking over your combat training as well, little one.”

 

I hope you’ll check out Lawrence’s work.

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B072BMFFGX/about

In addition to his books on Amazon, he also publishes on Medium.com. His bio is short and to the point: “As a lifelong devotee of femdom, I relish putting my fantasies & experiences into words.”

Just a stop along the way – #HolidayRomance #MFRWHooks #LaterInLife

Welcome to this week’s MFRW Book Hooks blog hop. Hard to believe it is already December! Anyway, for the rest of the month I’ll be sharing juicy bits from my holiday-themed titles, starting today with a snippet from Cherry Pie and Mistletoe, a sweet and spicy later-in-life holiday romance.

In keeping with the festive spirit, I will give away a copy of this book to one person who leaves me a comment.

Blurb

At ten thirty on a stormy Christmas Eve, I really didn’t expect any business, but the sign for our diner out on the highway reads “open until midnight”, and I’m a woman of my word. Good thing I didn’t close; the half-frozen long haul trucker who wandered in really needed some hot coffee, not to mention a slice of my luscious cherry pie.

Something about the grizzled, bear-like man with the chocolate-brown eyes and ready laugh spun me back to my scandalous, sensual younger days. I hadn’t wanted anyone in years, but I wanted Dave Driver. Was I brave enough to act on my desire? And would he flee, screaming, from the amorous attentions of a white-haired little old lady?

The Hook

Before he could mention it, I refilled his empty mug. What was it about this guy? Ants crawled along my skin. Butterflies danced in my stomach. My nipples felt heavy and hard as polished stones and a hungry void pulsed between my thighs.

Our eyes met. Heat flickered through me. I held my breath.

“You got any cherry pie?” he asked at last. Had he wanted to request something else?

“Um—yes, yes, of course,” I gasped. Disappointment and relief warred inside me. After all, I wasn’t a girl anymore. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. “Best cherry pie in three counties, in fact.”

“And would you happen to have something to do with that, Marnie?”

“I certainly would. It’s my mother’s recipe—by the way, what’s your name?” I winced at my own boldness. “Since you know mine.”

“Dave,” he replied. “Dave Driver.”

I giggled. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. Guess I was fated to be a long-haul trucker.” Sadness tinged his smile. “Anyway, Marnie—how about that pie? It’s great talking to you, but I’ve got to be in Nebraska by Thursday morning.”

“Coming right up.” I cut him a more-than-generous slice and topped it with a scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream. Ruby-red fruit oozed from the flaky crust. Fingers of creamy white dripped over the top and pooled on the plate. I garnished the whole thing with a sprig of fresh mint and presented it to him with a flourish.

“Very Christmas-y,” he said. “Looks delicious, too.”

“It is.” I watched him devour a big, gooey chunk.

“Wow! This is amazing!”

“Thanks.” It felt so good to be the cause of his innocent delight. “Glad you like it.”

“Why don’t you join me? Have a piece of your own?”

“I shouldn’t. It’s bad for my cholesterol.”

“It’s Christmas Eve, and you have to work. You deserve some compensation!” He held out a moist forkful of cherries and cream. “Here, take some of mine, then.”

Giving in to impulse, I leaned over the counter, opened my mouth and let him feed me. Flavors exploded on my tongue: the sweet-tart burst of the fruit, the richness of the ice cream, the buttery lightness of the crust. Dave scrutinized my face as I chewed and swallowed, savoring every moment. I couldn’t stop licking my lips. His eyes followed my every move. A blush climbed into my cheeks, even as I chided myself for being immature and overly sensitive.

“See?” he said gravely. “You should listen to me. Go get yourself some of your incredible cherry pie.”

I didn’t resist any more. I wanted the pie. I wanted him, too. Not much I could do about that second desire, but I could certainly fulfill the first. Hard as it sometimes was to believe, I was sixty four. Did I think I’d live forever?

With my pie and ice cream (a somewhat smaller piece than I’d given him), I perched on a stool inside the serving area. Facing each other across the counter, less than a foot apart, we ate in silence.

I tried without success to concentrate on the exquisite taste of the dessert in front of me, as Dave seemed to be doing. Instead, I was intensely aware of how close he was—and how paradoxically attractive. I watched his sensual mouth opening and closing around forkfuls of pie, the flick of his tongue over his lips as he gathered stray crumbs, the shift in his throat as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee.

He drained his coffee cup. He’d nearly finished. When he was done, he’d disappear into the winter night. He had a long way to travel before morning. His job probably depended on providing a reliable delivery schedule.

I was just a stop along the way.

 

Find all the buy links at https://www.lisabetsarai.com/cherrypiebook.html

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Book Hooks!

And don’t forget to leave a comment. You could be my winner!

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Review Tuesday: Love's Inheritance by Cheyenne Blue — #lgbtq #LesbianRomance #ReviewTuesday

Love’s Inheritance by Cheyenne Blue

Ylva Publishing, 2025

Clea Winneke, manager of Yarra Grounds coffee shop, enjoys her chats with regular customer Patrick. He’s thoughtful and supportive, the way a friend should be. She’s thoroughly shocked to learn of his sudden death, especially when she’s summoned to attend the reading of his will and learns that he had a long-ago romance with her free-spirited mum, and is actually her father.

Patrick bequeaths most of his substantial estate to his wife Maeve and their daughter Zara. To Clea, he leaves his beloved but struggling factory, Shamrock Sausages, along with the stipulation that she must guide it to profitability within one year. Armed with a business degree but near zero experience, Clea accepts the challenge. Her inexperience isn’t the only obstacle to Shamrock’s success, however. Before long she realizes that her step-mother is working hard to sabotage the company so that she can take over the valuable land associated with the factory.

Complicating the work of the novice CEO is the presence of food scientist Kat Nordling. Kat and Clea struggle to manage their mutual attraction and keep their relationship appropriately professional. Love’s not something that can be denied, though. And together, they might have a better chance of saving Shamrock than Clea would by herself.

A sausage factory isn’t your typical setting for a romance. For me, that’s a plus. Cheyenne Blue does a great job depicting the industrial setting: the routine, the machines, the constant required maintenance, and the scary feeling that the business and everyone’s jobs are teetering on the edge of failure. I enjoyed getting to know the various supporting characters who work at Shamrock, though given some of their blue collar backgrounds, I was a bit surprised by their uncritical acceptance of Clea’s and Kat’s lesbian connection. In the U.S., even today, I believe this would be far more of a problem.

Even more than Clea’s work colleagues, I adored the characters of her commune-dwelling, flower-child mother Tamsin and Kat’s elderly neighbor Elsie. The wisdom of age plays a pivotal role in helping Clea and Kat navigate the inevitable storms in their relationship.

Maeve’s underhanded and duplicitous behavior is plausible. The author manages to evoke a smidgeon of sympathy for the wealthy widow. Like Clea, she didn’t expect Patrick, a man in the prime of life, to disappear in an instant.

Finally, though I’m much more of a cat than a dog person, I could not help falling in love with Putchi, the rainbow pride dog. He’s a reminder of the power of simple joy.

Love’s Inheritance is a feel-good lesbian romance that left me smiling. It doesn’t offer much in the way of serious conflict, however. There’s never any doubt that Clea and Kat will finally come together, or that Shamrock will survive.

Fans of Sapphic fiction will enjoy the slow-burn pace and the frank acknowledgment of mutual attraction. The author is expert in focusing on the small details that generate or broadcast arousal. To be honest, I found the flirtation and first hesitant kisses more erotic than the actual love scenes, which had no suspense and seemed a bit rushed.

Finally, the book left me with an urge to visit Melbourne. I’ve never been to Australia, though I have many friends there. Clea and Kat walk by the river, stroll along the beach, visit friendly-sounding restaurants, bars and cafes and generally support the impression that this is a diverse and lively city. I always appreciate books that provide a sense of place. This novel could serve as tourist marketing for its setting.

All in all, Love’s Inheritance serves up a tasty Sapphic tale without an excess of angst. Relaxing and entertaining!

Come as many times as you want – #KinkyChristmas #SaturdaySpanks

I haven’t done a Saturday Spanks event in a really long time. For those of you who like things kinky, I’ve got a sexy BDSM scene – holiday style. This excerpt is from A Contract for Christmas, one of the stories in my boxed set Comfort & Joy. The book is free on Kindle Unlimited.

Blurb

Isabella plans to surprise her husband Greg with an intimate Christmas Eve dinner. She’s left with only her fantasies of Greg’s dominance, though, when a blizzard strands him a thousand miles away. Then Greg’s best friend James shows up at her door, tempting her to surrender to his quiet authority. This Christmas Eve will alter their three-way relationship forever.

Kinky Excerpt

Stripping off his shirt with typical economy and ease, he folded it on the vanity stool. His jeans followed. Before he set them down, he extracted his belt from the waist. “I’m going to want this,” he said, laying it alongside my outstretched body so I could smell the leather. “And these, of course.” He dropped five or six condoms onto the bed table.

I couldn’t help laughing. “How many times do you plan to fuck me, James?”

He kneeled between my legs, his engorged cock bobbing as he moved. “As many times as you can handle, woman.” He picked up the belt, running it over his palm. “Then I’ll fuck you some more.”

He loomed over me, fierce and unsmiling. A burst of fear tingled through me.

“But first, I’ll beat you. Do you agree?”

I closed my eyes, momentarily overwhelmed. No one but Greg had ever inflicted the sort of pain I knew the belt would produce. Even in our three-way scenes, my husband had always taken the lead when it came to punishment. I was scared. What if James couldn’t read my signals? Would he know, the way Greg always did, when I’d had too much?

He sensed my uncertainty, at least. His voice was gentle when he spoke again. “What’s your safe word, Bella?”

“Artichoke. But with Greg I never…”

“Use it if you need to. I think I know you well enough walk that fine line between not enough and too much, but don’t be afraid to stop me if I’m wrong.”

“And if you really don’t want me to whip you,” he added with a grin, “just say so. I have lots of alternative ideas.”

“No, no—I want it—I want your belt—it’s just that you—you…”

“I’m not Greg,” he answered. “I know. But I am your master, at least for tonight. You’ll know that soon.”

Without warning, he brought the belt down just above my right knee. A line of fire stitched its way up my thigh, then jumped to ignite my sex.

“Oh, God—James!—oh—” I bit back my words, afraid he’d misunderstand, that he’d stop. Instead, he lashed at my other thigh, a strong, pure blow that only fanned the conflagration.

I’m not a pain slut like some subs. Mostly I endure the hurt in order to please my master. This beating, though, was different. The leather played across my skin, cutting, bruising, heating me to a fever that was like nothing I’d never felt before. Pain, but somehow not pain—not when I watched the flow of muscle under James’s skin, the graceful arc of the strap as he prepared another stroke, the dark energy dancing in his eyes.

He had perfect control over his instrument. Every lash landed exactly where he intended. For the most part he concentrated on my thighs, but occasionally he’d flick the leather across my nipples. I screamed, thrashed, strained at my bonds, driven higher each time the belt connected with my flesh.

James whipped me into a frenzy. Between my legs the ache built and built, and built some more. I needed to come, more than I needed air. Yet still he whipped me, and I let him. I understood that was what he needed—what only I could give him.

The belt edged closer to my cunt. Dazed and drunk with lust, still I guessed how this would end. Yet his final stroke took me by surprise—the one that kissed my clit and sent me spinning into climax.

Pleasure poured through me in a flood that cleansed me of the pain. It left me stranded. I lay on the bed, limp in my bonds, gasping and shuddering as though I’d just escaped drowning.

“Are you all right, Bella?” James peered down at me, looking concerned.

“Oh, yes,” I sighed. “Wonderful. Thank you, sir.”

This time, that felt right.

My new master broke into a grin. “Don’t mention it.” He reached across my body to retrieve a condom from the table. His cock grazed my belly, smearing me with pre-cum.

“But you haven’t come yet.”

“I plan to remedy that shortly.” I watched his deft movements as he rolled the latex down his shaft. I wanted nothing more than to feel that hardness inside me.

“By the way, when you’re with me, you don’t need permission to come. Come as many times as you want. As you can. Starting now.”

Buy Links

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08P2CM6KL

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08P2CM6KL

Welcome to the Asylum – #HistoricalSuspense #Review #Giveaway

Blurb

For decades, Roy Orville fleeced money from fools. Now reunited with his grown daughter, he has found new purpose and a use for his particular set of skills beyond his own needs. But in the midst of the Great Depression, even an experienced con man has difficulty finding work.

Then, a golden opportunity: a wealthy target who could secure his daughter’s future. One hitch—the mark is locked in Greystone Asylum for the Insane. Undaunted, Roy dives in, certain that his talents will seal the deal. But Greystone hides dark secrets: predators masquerade as healers, and the stakes soar beyond his wildest bets.

In a race against time, Roy pits his wits against a sinister foe; a man holding more than one innocent life in the balance. It’s a gamble that will take him to the edge of his sanity.

Excerpt

“It all seems quite reasonable,” he said just before taking a small bite of his unseasoned boiled chicken.

Roy blinked. After all that, he had fully expected a polite refusal. To hear the contrary came as a most welcomed surprise. Perhaps it would be a productive day after all.

“Quite so,” he replied brightly. “We’re not greedy, after all, but we do know what we’ve got. Now, may I presume we can put you down for-”

“It’s this line here that’s giving me heartburn.”

And there it is.

“Eh?”

Chauncey shifted in his seat, turning the paper and indicating the offending line. Surprisingly somewhere halfway down the page. He had actually read the blasted thing.

“You don’t have the manufacturer lined up yet?”

“Oh, as to that…” He scrambled. “You see, we’re only modifying the chairs. Yes, Charlie’s cousin was able to acquire warehouse space late last year and there they remain until it’s time for the workers to go in and make the modifications – simple changes that may be performed with hand tools.” He waived his hand dismissively. “Isn’t that right, Charlie?”

The brute stared at him blankly. It took nearly five full seconds for the two electrodes between his ears to make a spark.

“Oh, yeah. Ah… Mickey’s got your stuff.” He wound up, about to elaborate more, but Roy cut in, somewhat to the man’s chagrin.

“So, there you have it, Chauncey. I assure you, sir, this isn’t my first rodeo.” That part, at least, was the truth, albeit not the way the mark understood it. Roy had parted more fools with their money than he could count. Though, admittedly, this one was proving to be a singular hard nose.

Review by Lisabet Sarai

Roy Orville makes his living as a con man. For decades he has worked diligently to separate prosperous but overly trusting individuals from their money. He’s quick-witted, observant, well-spoken, a shrewd judge of character and a master of social disguise. In the midst of the Great Depression, though, he’s barely surviving, despite his impressive skills. Living in an abandoned rail car, he eats at the cheap local diner and stays awake at night worrying about how he’ll manage to pay the hefty college tuition fees for his formerly estranged daughter.

Searching for his next mark, Roy zeroes in on an heiress who is locked away in the imposing Greystone Asylum for the Insane. Annie spiraled into acute depression when her bankrupt husband committed suicide and her child was still-born. After months in the asylum, her psychological state has improved, but Dr. Corbran, the powerful and corrupt Chief Attending Physician, keeps her prisoner for his own twisted enjoyment.

Desperate to get Annie’s signature on the papers that will transfer her inheritance to his pockets, Roy impersonates a psychiatrist and infiltrates Greystone’s wards. With his easy-going personality, active imagination and natural charm, he soon becomes enmeshed in the lives of both patients and staff. As he discovers more of the Asylum’s secrets, he comes to realize that George Corbran is more than just an inconvenient obstacle – he is a mortally dangerous enemy.

It took me a while to get into The Gold in the Grey, but by the time Roy donned his white coat and began his masquerade as Dr. Calvin Young, I was hooked. Flawed and morally compromised, painfully aware of his own weaknesses, determined to take advantage of other people but unable to suppress his empathy for them, Roy is a fascinating, likable and believable character.

Corbran, on the other hand, is so thoroughly villainous that he’s almost a cartoon. Almost, but not quite. The author occasionally gives us a chapter from the doctor’s point of view. We learn a bit about his unfortunate background, which helps provide some motivation for his evil intentions and actions. Certainly it allows him to personally feel justified in what he does.

Annie serves as a third voice in the novel, giving us a first-hand sense of her terrifying lack of control over her own fate. Institutions like Greystone can strip their occupants of humanity, turning them into playthings and pawns for their cruel or unscrupulous warders.

From a literary perspective, these three voices could have been more balanced. Roy is clearly the focus character, but his perspective is periodically interrupted by chapters featuring Corbran or Annie. In particular, the novel both begins and ends in with sections from Corbran’s point of view. The author seems fascinated by his own villain, perhaps because the doctor makes concrete the sinister possibilities of the imposing and mysterious asylum.

As I mentioned earlier, the book begins a bit slowly. Once the plot has been set in motion, however, the pace picks up, speeding along to a thrilling and suspenseful climax. Wes Verde does an excellent job bringing together the different threads to tie up the story in a satisfying, if somewhat gruesome, manner.

Overall, I found the The Gold in the Grey to be original and engaging. I was particularly interested to discover in the Afterword that the Greystone Asylum was a historical edifice – though one that has since been dismantled. I can appreciate how this might have inspired the author to weave it into a story.

About the Author

Wes is an engineer by trade, a busybody by habit, and a lifelong Jersey boy.

Writing has been a hobby in one form or another since 2006 when he started drawing 3-panel comics. When he is not putting words down, he is picking them up; the “to-read" pile only seems to grow larger.

A fan of nature, he spends as much time outside as possible.

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Website: https://wesverde.com/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/239923058-the-gold-in-the-grey

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FMFDNCBN

Wes Verde will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.