Lydia Bennet was a pretty young thing, but rather vacuous. She took his mind off his troubles though, made him smile. When she proposed the idea of running off together, he initially resisted. After all, she wasn’t from a wealthy family. But she was adamant that if they forced her father’s hand, he would give them at least a few hundred pounds a year and pay off George’s gambling debts rather than face a scandal.
Lieutenant George Wickham grimaced and set down the empty glass.
He’d done a fine job of becoming a rake and a ne’er-do-well.
Hey, friends, great news! The second installment in the Carlingford Chronicles novella trilogy is now available at Amazon.com in Kindle and paperback.
Check it out!
Robin Adair: Carlingford Chronicles Book 2
by Whitney L. Schwartz
A marriage of convenience. A hidden love. A gambler out for revenge.
Robin Adair and Shane O’Reilly grew up together. Robin’s been sweet on him since their schoolyard days, but Shane’s always been a wild child.
Robin’s life, with her sick mother and abusive father, has never been easy. When the situation worsens to the point where she can’t bear to live in her father’s house anymore, she’s desperate for a way of escape.
Shane has spent so much time at the pub, it’s become more home than his house. However, he’s also become too well acquainted with the bottle and the cards. When Shane finds himself in over his head with gambling debts, he’s desperate for a solution.
Robin and Shane find their way out in a marriage of convenience.
Will their marriage be loveless or will romance bloom between them? Will Shane change his ways or will his past catch up with him? And will they survive when a disgruntled townsman comes looking for revenge?
Set in 1801, Carlingford, Ireland, the second installment of the Carlingford Chronicles trilogy mingles faith and drama with humor and romance.
Fall in love with Robin and Shane’s story set against the vivid backdrop of historical Ireland.
“Logan, lights out; it’s time for bed!” Beth called out from the hallway.
“Yeah, I just have to level up!” Logan yelled above the noise blasting in his ears through the headphones.”
His thumbs moved furiously across the game controller. His avatar did his bidding on the screen and fought his way with a lightning-powered saber past an army of alien soldiers and a giant, winged, acid-breathing serpent. Continue reading “Level Up”→
The photographs scattered like blackbirds frightened from their forest coverture by a hunter’s gun. The flames reached up their greedy hands and clutched at the images, drawing them down into the fire where they curled and charred around the edges, turning black, catching fire and dying upon the blazing logs. Nina watched them burn until there was nothing left except for ashes. She glanced up at the night sky, watched gray clouds pass over the moon, inhaled a deep breath of the cool night air tinged with smoke. The smoke of her past. If only the memories could burn up and die as easily as the photographs. Continue reading “Made New”→
I heard him before I could see him. It was the voice of Thomas Boyd, the octave of a freight train and commanding as an admiral. He didn’t raise his voice; he never had too. It was just that deep, authoritative timbre that told you the man knew what he was talking about and if you got in his way you were liable to get crushed like a grape in a winepress.
The man came around the corner, barged into my office, and commandeered the leather chair behind my desk as if it were his favorite recliner. Continue reading “How Much?”→
Jonathan’s soul burned within him as he walked, remembering his father’s words.
The quick, low chirruping of a sandgrouse in a cypress tree echoed across the plain. The morning clouds glowed fiery orange against the lightening purple sky.
When he reached the field, he stopped and turned to the boy with him. “‘Run, find out now the arrows which I shoot.’”
The boy took off through the prairie grass with the swiftness of youth.
Jonathan pulled an arrow out of the quiver at his back, readied it in his longbow, and released. It whipped through the air and landed several hundred feet beyond the boy. Continue reading “Saving David”→
A continuous bevy of shots from assault rifles and machine gun fire filled the air like a devilish percussion straight from hell. Mortars and grenades exploded around them like thunder cracks of mass destruction. Bullets, dirt, and shrapnel shot through the air. Men shouted and screamed as blood poured out upon the earth.
“Danny!” Joe yelled as he saw his friend take a bullet.
Crimson blood stained the front of his olive-drab field jacket as he clutched at his stomach. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground.