Corsair’s Cove Orchard: The Complete Set

Corsair’s Cove Orchard: The Complete Set
Secret Vintage, Secret Seed, Secret Spring
Rachel Goldsworthy, Shelley Adina, Sharon Ashwood

Genre: small town sweet romance with a paranormal twist

Publisher: Moonshell Books, Inc.
Date of Publication:  2018
Number of pages: 344
Cover Artist: Wicked by Design
Tagline: Let Corsair’s Cove draw you home again …
Book Description:
Corsair’s Cove has a reputation for being one of the most haunted places in the Pacific Northwest. Back in Prohibition days, it was a roaring hive of rumrunners, flappers, money, and betrayal. Big Tom Macfarlane and Marigold Mayhew met in the old apple orchard, loved hard, and died young, but their story isn’t finished. Because some betrayals have consequences that echo down through time … and demand the kind of resolution that only true love can bring …
That same apple orchard has now been sold to the local carpenter to make a home for his bride—and has become a bone of contention. Who knew that the cider apple that made Joe Johannsen’s family famous during Prohibition—an apple thought to be extinct—would still be growing there?
When Joe and Siena Panati discover the secret recipe hidden in plain sight, will it mean their future—or will it tear their friendships apart? Then Sam Wilson’s return to the Cove for an antique car rally triggers a series of ghostly visitations. The last thing he needs is for Marigold’s ghost to reveal herself to Haley Struthers, the botanist who discovered the apples. But Haley has something very real to be afraid of, and only Sam can help her. It all comes to a head when Lora Trelawney returns to the Cove. With the help of Spike the bartender, she discovers that some secrets aren’t meant to be kept … even from herself … and love is the only way that the Cove’s Jazz Age secrets will ever be resolved …
Readers have fallen in love with Corsair’s Cove, its small-town atmosphere and quirky characters.  The Reading Café called the Chocolate Shop novellas “swoon-worthy love stories sure to sweeten your life.” The Orchard series simply raises the bar—giving you stories as tasty as a slice of homemade apple pie!
Secret Vintage Book 1 – Rachel Goldsworthy
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Secret Seed Book 2 – Sharon Ashwood
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Secret Spring Book 3 – Shelley Adina
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From Secret Seed by Sharon Ashwood:
“I never thought
I’d see you in Corsair’s Cove again,” said Eloise Wilson as she picked at the
cookie crumbs on her plate.
Sam’s gaze
settled on his sister. She’d chosen the gingerbread cookie with big crystals of
sugar on top. It was the same treat she’d always picked, all through childhood.
Had two decades actually passed since then?
All families had
issues, but theirs were extra-special by anyone’s measure. Now they sat in the
upstairs bay window of the Zephyr’s Rest Inn, the space just big enough for a
tiny table and two chairs. The stage was set, but Sam wasn’t sure of his lines.
“Sorry I didn’t
visit sooner,” he said, sipping his mug of black coffee. No cookie for Sam—he
wasn’t into sweet things. “I got busy.”
“Yeah?” His
sister’s bright green eyes were apprehensive, as if afraid he might vanish into
mist. “Are you sure there aren’t other reasons for staying away?”
Sam sighed inwardly.
He loved Eloise, really he did, but she had to talk everything to death. “What
do you want me to say?”
“The truth?”
He raised his
head to answer, but instead of meeting Eloise’s eyes, something caught his
attention—a flicker of something white. From his seat in the window, he could
see down the long hallway with its double row of guest room doors. This place
was nearly as old as the town. Sam would have stayed someplace more modern, but
rooms were hard to come by in tourist season.
So here he was at
the Zephyr. Even in daytime there wasn’t much light in the upstairs of the inn.
Nothing dispelled the shadows that clung to old places like this. That alone
made his skin creep, but sometimes—like now—there was more.
The young woman
stood halfway down the dim corridor. She wore a pale sleeveless dress and a hat
that almost hid her bobbed hair. When was that fashion from? The 1920s? 1930s?
Sam wasn’t a clothes guy but he’d learned some history the hard way—like when
it was lurking under the bed, ready to yell “boo!”
The woman saw
him looking and waved gloved fingers. Sam looked away, finding sudden interest
in his coffee cup. It was never good when the ghosts knew he could see them.
They always wanted help with unfinished business—as if being a psychic automatically
made him a customer service desk for the dead.
Eloise turned
her head to follow his line of sight. “Who were you looking at?”
“What are you
talking about?” he asked gruffly.
Eloise frowned
at him. “Corsair’s Cove has more ghosts per square foot than anywhere I’ve ever
been. This inn has six I’ve been able to identify.”
And that was
what made them siblings. Other families went for picnics or took cooking
classes together. The Wilson kids saw ghosts. The big difference between them
was that Eloise had always owned her gifts, however much that cost her. He was
the exact opposite—don’t ask, don’t tell—which was why he avoided this town
like the plague.
 “Six hauntings, huh? I think I’ll be sleeping
in my car.” Sam grinned to hide his thundering heart.
“It was
Marigold, wasn’t it?” Eloise raised one brow. “A flapper girl? She likes pretty
young men.”
Sam pushed his
empty cup away. “That’s the last thing I need.”

“You never
know.” Eloise licked sugar from her fingers. “I don’t remember you mentioning a

About the Authors:
Rachel Goldsworthy grew up on the West Coast, sitting quietly in the kitchen of one aunt or another and nibbling homemade Nanaimo bars while the relations told tales. Some were factual, and some were true. When the time came to earn a living, Rachel took those listening (and eating) skills, and wrote for magazines and newspapers stories of the people and places of the coast. Now she’s writing the adventures of people she’s crazy about in Corsair’s Cove where love and family, like the tide, might ebb and flow, but chocolate is eternal. Every word is true.

Shelley Adina is the author of 24 novels published by Harlequin, Warner, and Hachette, and a dozen more published by Moonshell Books, Inc., her own independent press. She writes steampunk (including a band of air pirates), contemporary romance, and young adult fiction, and as Adina Senft, writes women’s fiction set among the Amish and other plain communities. She holds an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University in Pennsylvania, where she teaches as adjunct faculty. She won the Romance Writers of America RITA Award® for Best Inspirational Novel in 2005, was a finalist in 2006, and in 2009 was a Christy Award finalist. When she’s not writing, Shelley is usually quilting, sewing historical costumes, sneaking another succulent chocolate out of the box of See’s Nuts and Chews, or hanging out in the garden with her flock of rescued chickens.
Sharon Ashwood is a novelist, desk jockey and enthusiast for the weird and spooky. And chocolate. And pirates. Chocolate-covered pirates would be a definite plus. Sharon’s books include urban fantasy, paranormal romance, historical adventures and more. She is the winner of the RITA® Award for Paranormal Romance. She lives in the Pacific Northwest and is owned by the Demon Lord of Kitty Badness.

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Bad Blood by Shyla Colt

Bad Blood
Bad Duology 
Book One
Shyla Colt
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Date of Publication: 9/28
Number of pages: 230
Word Count: 53,317
Cover Artist: Dreams 2 Media
Tagline: He saved her life, and stole her Freedom
Book Description:
A reluctant knight
A magical descendent
A race against time
A freak accident thrusts Nakeeta Alva into a dangerous world of secrets, ancient spells, and a legacy she never wanted. The last in a magical line, she’s tasked with restoring the balance to a supernatural world poised for ruin.
Tasked with the care of their savior, Crewe’s main focus is survival. Used to giving orders, the knight isn’t prepared for the sassy witch’s mouth or her lure. The powerful woman reminded him of his humanity and challenged his beliefs.
Keeping her safe is his mission, but the real danger may be losing his heart.
Together, they will save the world … or die trying.

Humming pulled
her from the void.
“Mama?” she
croaked as she peeled open her eyes in response to the gentle voice and the
light squeeze to her hand.
“My sweet child.
That’s it. Let me see those pretty eyes, bug.”
The light was
kinder to her retinas as she focused on the gently lined, oval-shaped face that
was dear to her.
“Praise God,”
her mother whispered. She stood and bent down, kissing her forehead. Her coarse
curls tickled her face. Her nose twitched in response. Her mother smoothed her
hair back from her face and sank back into her seat. Nakeeta smacked her lips.
“Let me get you
some water.” Her mother hurried off as she acclimated herself with the waking
world. How long have I been here? Her
mother returned with a large, pink plastic cup with a straw. “Let’s get you sitting up.” Her mother hit the button and
slowly pushed her up into an upright position.
“Yes,” she
“Here you are.” She held the cup
out, and she wrapped her lips around a straw and sucked the cool water down her
sore throat. The relief drew a hum from her throat. Pulling away, Keeta cleared
her throat.
“I’m so sorry.
Times run out,” her mother whispered.
“What are you
talking about, Mom?” She furrowed her brow.
“We did our best
to protect you, Keeta. Growing up we tried to keep you away from all things
magical, but the power ran too deep. The spirits tried to tell me, but I was
too stubborn to listen. You were my child, and I wanted the best for you. Your
magic was a part of you that refused to be ignored or denied. So, we switched
gears, tried to prepare you for what we knew would come, and hid you for as
long as we could. I knew the moment I saw you and looked into your eyes you
were the one our family had prophesied about.”
“Hid me from
what?” Is this some sort of fever dream?
Am I still in a comma?
“Everyone who
would use you as a weapon.” Her mother’s whisper was full of sorrow and
“Use me? Mom, you’re not making any sense.” Exasperated,
she huffed. Her body ached, and her head
felt barely attached to her shoulders. A combination of the powerful medication
and exhaustion that came from healing
warped her perception. A hazy recollection of a dream tugged at her. What was I supposed to remember? Her
brain protested the strain with a dull throbbing at her temples that stopped
her from thinking too hard.
Her mother held
her hand. “You’re different.”
“Yes, like our
entire family is,” Keeta replied, unsure of what her mother wished to convey.
She’d never been the type to beat around the bush before. Why hesitate now?
“Yes, but you
have power. A scary amount of it. Things have
always been drawn to you. Even with us cloaking you to dampen your light, it
shone so brightly.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “We tried to do
right by you, Keeta. Now I’m not sure we were right.”
“Mom, you’re
scaring me.” Her voice warbled.
“Destiny will
only be denied so long, baby. Yours is at hand.”
Her stomach
knotted. The storm that had been threatening overhead was finally breaking.
“Our family is
made up of more than powerful magic workers. We descend from a long lineage of
gifted magical beings. It goes back further than you can imagine, and some of
the spells created and cast changed the
shape of the world as we know it.” She glanced around nervously. “I’m not sure
how much time we have. You’re a part of a bigger plan, Keeta. The laws keeping
humans safe are crumbling into themselves. You can help change that. I won’t
tell you it’ll be easy, or comfortable, but it’s necessary. If I could take
this burden from you, I would.” She shook her head. “But it wasn’t meant for
“I don’t
understand. What am I supposed to do?
Why?” Keeta shook her head. She’d never seen her mother this distraught. Dark
circles ringed her puffy red eyes. Regret and apprehension stiffened her muscles and turned her dark brown eyes nearly
“I want to tell
you more.” Her mother bowed her head. Her mouth clamped shut as if it’d been
glued together. “Mmm. Mmmm.” She struggled to speak. Her face turned purple.
“Mom?” She
gripped the blankets hard and leaned forward. “Breathe!”
Her mother
gasped, greedily sucking in air as her slender form trembled. Tears rolled down her face in a steady stream of salty
water. “I can’t. God help me, I can’t.” Her anguished cries sliced at Keeta’s
“You can’t
what?” she whimpered, feeling her mother’s pain as her own.
Exasperated, her
mother threw her hands into the air and shook her head so hard she thought she
might strain a muscle. “T-the d-deal,” she stuttered, stumbling over her
“What deal?” Her
stomach plummeted, and her heartbeat spiked. The monitors beeped nosily in
“The one she
made to save your life,” a masculine voice answered from the doorway.
Her spine
stiffened. The room felt too small. She shrank back against her pillow. His
aura was dark and powerful. Nearly six-foot with pale blond hair, crystalline
blue eyes, and cheekbones that could draw blood, he oozed strength and
Predator. He slammed against the wall, pinned into
place. She gasped. Did I do that?
“Nakeeta!” her
mother hissed.
She’d never been
able to manifest her powers this way. She trembled. Images of the powerful
medicine man and his words filled her brain. A headache burst through her head.
“Stop this,” her
mother demanded.
I don’t know how. She
wouldn’t share that weakness in front of this—
His eyes flashed
His thin, pink
lips curved, revealing fangs. “Now she realizes. Because you are vulnerable and
your brain is muddled, I will allow your impertinence to slide this once.” 

“What have you done, Mama?”

About the Author:
Shyla Colt is the sassy USA Today Bestselling author of the popular series Kings of Chaos and Dueling Devils M.C. This genre-hoppers stories feature three of her favorite things: strong females, pop culture, and alternate routes to happy ever after. Listening to her Romani soul, she pens from the heart, allowing the dynamic characters, eccentric interests, and travels as a former flight attendant to take her down untraveled roads.
Born and raised in Cincinnati, Ohio, this mid-west girl is proud of her roots. She used her hometown and the surrounding areas as a backdrop for a number of books. So, if you’re a Buckeye, keep an eye out for familiar places.
As a full-time writer, stay at home mother, and wife, there’s never a dull moment in her household.
She weaves her tales in spare moments and the evenings with a cup of coffee or tea at her side and the characters in her head for company.
You can interact with Shyla Colt online
Twitter: @shylacolt

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Malevolent by S. Peters-Davis- Haunted Halloween Spooktacular

Soren’s Calling
By S. Peters-Davis
The tree, miles inside the dense Michigan forest, billowed with majestic energy, same as it did fifteen years ago. I’d sensed its power even then, at ten years old. Something marked in my memory like a reoccurring dream called me back to this place.
I touched the kaleidoscope of bark, reveling in its swirls of uneven texture, and swore it shivered. Or was I vibrating to its high frequency? Excitement and exhaustion sliced through me. “Hello, old friend,” I whispered.
A sudden heaviness settled into my body and eyelids. I dropped my backpack and leaned against the tree, bending until I rested on the ground. The sketch book. I pulled it from the pack and thumbed through the pages of my drawings. There he was. I want to see you again.
My eyes closed of their own volition, sending me into the darkness of deep sleep.
* * *
Breaking branches, rustling leaves, and a thud on the ground next to me startled my mind to consciousness. I jumped to my feet, the sketch book landing with Soren’s page open. I glanced at it for a second before scanning the area and seeing nothing. Then…he stood in front of me.
His violet-rimmed dark eyes studied me. He’d grown in stature, still long-limbed with clawed hands and feet. His shoulder-length silver hair was drawn away from his sculpted face by a couple slender braids. He sniffed the air and his mouth opened showing long incisors.
“It’s me, Becca.” I reached my hand toward him and he jerked back, snarling, the talons on his fingers displayed in full. The hair across the nape of my neck snapped to attention, reminding me of the graphic way he’d stopped a wolf from attacking us years ago.
Maybe this wasn’t Soren. I lowered my gaze to the drawing at my feet. He stepped closer backing me against the tree, his thin brows pinched together as he studied the drawing. He looked back at me, wide-eyed, and planted his hands on both sides of my head. Somehow, we fell inside the tree.
We plummeted into a wind tunnel. His arms locked around me as he spun my body around until our heads were up and our feet were down.
What the heck just happened? I didn’t recall this part.
Warm shimmering light surrounded us, making the violet color of his eyes opalescent as we free-fell in this make-shift elevator of air.
“Becca,” he whispered and nuzzled my neck. “You came back.”
My eyes moistened. “Soren, I’ve missed you.”  His earthy cocoa-spice scent doused my olfactory in memories. The three days and nights we’d spent together, climbing the tree, finding mushrooms, swimming in an icy pond, enjoying campfires…until my parents found me wandering the forest alone.
We never went to that forest again for our spring mushroom hunts.
All this time I thought the tree and Soren were figments of a child’s wild imagination. I returned to the forest in hopes of finding the tree, where I’d first fallen asleep so long ago. I lifted my head away from Soren’s shoulder to study him closer. His face appeared more human. The fangs had receded. His ears lost their pointed tips and his nose wasn’t so snout-like.
The tunnel opened into a vast terrain of vegetation, thistle huts, pools, gardens; a whole underground civilization. Our descending slowed until our feet rested on solid ground.
“Where are we?” My focus went ballistic, attempting to take in everything at once.
Soren tapped my chin, closing my mouth.
I laughed. “We didn’t come here as kids. I would have remembered it, especially the trip down.”
“No. Our kind never brings humans here.” He grabbed my hand.
No humans? My stomach roiled and my knees shook then folded. The whole falling through a tree into another world of beings wasn’t connecting inside my brain. A living nightmare might work as not one human knew where I’d gone, too hard to explain a child’s quest.
“Becca, you must stand, now, or everyone will know.” He pulled me up and wrapped an arm around my waist. “We must hurry.”
I jerked to a stop. “I don’t understand. Why did you bring me here?”
“Shhh. No scene. Come now.” His nostrils flared and he eyed the gathering crowd. “Explain in a moment.”
A pack of wolves came to mind. My stomach flipped a couple more times at their red eyes, flaring nostrils, and growing fangs and claws.
Soren yanked me along a narrow grassy path, the others followed on our heels. Their snarls and growls closed in. Soren lifted me in his arms and ran toward a large round hut. He pushed through the fabric-like doorway into a cool dimly lit room. Not one of the creatures entered after us.
“They want to hurt me. Or eat me. Why did you bring me here?”
He set me on my feet and motioned for me to sit on the cot in the center of the room. Then he slid my sleeve above my wrist, his fingertips touched two small scars. “Those are what called you back. I marked you long ago, as you slept, with the intention of giving you another that bonds. It is why we were attacked. Spring is our season to bond, no matter what age, we bound our mate and when the age is ripe, like now, we mate for life.”
“Instinct brought me here? You told me humans aren’t allowed.” My heart beat into my ribs so hard my body moved to its pulse. A mix of emotions swept through me in a shiver.
“There are no humans here, only our mates and us.” His face morphed, fangs extended.
“No.” My voice a mere whisper as he pushed me back and his fangs sank into my neck. 

A Kendra Spark Novel
Book Two
S. Peters-Davis

Genre: Supernatural, Suspense-thriller, Romance

Publisher: BWL Publisher

Date of Publication: August 10, 2018

Number of pages: E-book length: 150  
Number of pages: Print length: 195
Word Count: 57,500
Cover Artist:  Michelle Lee
Tagline: Trafficked girls marked to lose their souls by a malevolent supernatural entity require someone with explicit abilities for their rescue. Will Kendra be able to save them?
Book Description:
Kendra Spark, suspense-mystery writer and communicator with the dead, signs on to the next FBI Special Task Force case, trafficked girls that are marked to lose their souls.
Jenna Powers, ghostified criminal analyst, sticks close to the case as she and Kendra are also marked by the same malevolent supernatural force.
Derek Knight, lead FBI Agent on this case, learns of the malevolent entity and the deeper paranormal realm of danger.
Kendra’s unfiltered feelings for Derek struggle to take a backseat, and as the menacing threat grows more intense, so does her passion for Derek.
Derek faces uncertainties he’s never dealt with in his past, like malicious entities and the loss of his heart to love. How can he protect Kendra against forces he can’t see?    
As boundless supernatural danger intertwines with the future reality of the trafficked teens, Kendra and Jenna realize only they can shoulder the rescue by calling in a voodoo priestess…
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About the Author:
S. Peters-Davis writes multi-genre stories, but loves penning a good page-turning suspense-thriller, especially when it’s a ghost story and a romance. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, playing with grandchildren, or enjoying time with her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan.
She also writes YA paranormal, supernatural novels as DK Davis.
BWL Publishing Inc.:

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