The original Kitty Shields was a titan at 5”0’. She could convince the tides to turn left and guilt the devil into helping her clean the house. She was a force of nature, and also my mommom. As with most love stories, this is as much legend as truth. But let me tell you a romance that started with a boy carrying a watermelon down the street.
Kitty Shields and Joe McElhenny grew up in the same neighborhood in South Philadelphia—both products of a strong Irish Catholic upbringing in a close-knit community. He was seven years older than her, so for the early part of their lives, they ran in different circles. Until one June morning when an eleven-year-old girl struggled to carry a watermelon twice the size of herself down the steep hill to her house. And a gallant eighteen-year-old boy offered to carry it for her. She never forgot that morning or the kindness of that boy.
The two continued to circle each other. As these things usually happen, Kitty grew into a beautiful woman. When she was about seventeen, she walked by a group of young men loitering out on their front steps. Joe saw her and called out, “Kitty, can I walk you home?” She looked him dead in the eye and said, “You look fine right where you are.” Because nothing says romance like telling the boy you like to stay the hell away from you. Years later, Kitty admitted her mouth sometimes went a little too fast for her head.
Soon after, Joe joined the Navy. It was 1938 and the U.S. had not entered WWII yet. In fact, his ship, the U.S.S. Canopus, pulled out of Pearl Harbor ten days before the attack that would take America into the war. In 1942, the U.S.S. Canopus was assigned to the Philippines, where the crew served and repaired submarines and other ships. After the surrender at Bataan, the crew scuttled and sank the Canopus rather than giving it over to the enemy. Along with over two hundred other members of the crew, Joe was taken prisoner and held by the Japanese for two years.
Meanwhile, Kitty took a job as an administrator at the Philadelphia Naval Yard. More than most, she was aware of what the war really cost in terms of lives. And like many people during that time, she had put her life and dreams on hold. But after the war was won, Kitty made a decision that she was ready to get married and she went looking for a certain boy that she remembered from the neighborhood. Using her connections at the navy, she tracked him down in the middle of the Pacific where he had been assigned on the U.S.S. Missouri.
Joe was out at sea when he received a letter from home, a letter in handwriting he didn’t recognize. He tore it open, worried about what news might be inside. After scanning the contents, he jumped up and headed out of the room where his friends were. They called after him, “Bad news, Joe?” He stopped long enough to grin back at them and say, “No. Best news of my life.” Then he ran off to write his reply.
After that, Kitty and Joe corresponded, getting to know each other and growing a healthy respect and affection for this person that neither had set eyes on in years. When Joe’s ship finally returned to Philadelphia, they dated properly. On the third date, Joe asked Kitty to marry him. She looked at him dead and said, “You’re insane. People don’t marry after three dates. We have to wait a while.”
“Well, what’s a while?” he asked.
“A year,” she said.
“Okay.” He shrugged. “I mean, I already know, but I’ll wait forever if that’s what you want.”
She didn’t make him wait forever. She did make him wait a year, though. At long last, they were wed, and Joe was transferred to the naval yard as a legal officer. Now, Joe was a bit sluggish in the mornings. And one morning he was being particularly slow to get out the door. Kitty threatened his life if he didn’t get his behind moving and get to work. She was eight months pregnant with their first, and a little ungainly and a lot uncomfortable.
He looked at her and said, “I’m afraid to leave you. What if you fall and I lose you? I can’t handle that.” She patted his cheek and stood on her tip-toes to give him a kiss and told him she’d be fine. And to please, get the hell to work.
Some love stories are epic. Some love stories are tragic. And some love stories are about falling in love with your husband all over again because he hovers over you while you’re pregnant. Kitty said she never forgot the way he looked at her that morning and knew she’d made the best decision of her life. Joe said he never loved anyone else. This is a love story that started with a boy carrying a watermelon down the street.
By: Kitty Shields (the younger)
About the Author: Kitty Shields (she/her) lives outside Philadelphia, where she writes to overcome the fact that she was born a middle child with hobbit feet, vampire skin, and a tendency to daydream. In her spare time, she binds books, takes bad photos, and dodges the death traps her cat sets.
You can check her debut novel Pillar of Heaven from Amazon here (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08GFV95K5). It’s a Tale of Assassins, Telepaths, & Lattes:
With the holidays looming and student loans coming to call, Kate McGovern needs to find a good-paying job and fast, preferably away from the masses of caffeine junkies and coffee snobs at her current job. But finding a job sucks. Finding your first proper job after college when you have no experience and no idea what you want to do really sucks. Then Kate’s favorite customer puts her up for an executive assistant gig with one of the richest men in Boston. And suddenly, Kate’s luck has changed. The catch? Her new boss expects her to read his mind. Literally. And she’s pretty sure he’s evil. No big deal. First jobs are always tough, right?
Not a fairy tale love story because “happily ever after” is little more than a smoky illusion. But a real love story.
It all started with a bet.
I’d seen Cathy several times before. I’d even said a casual “Hi” a few times. She was a pretty girl, sparkling green eyes, short brown hair, a slightly larger nose and warm smile. Oh, and not a bad figure, too. Most of the times when I caught sight of her, she had paint on her hands and sometimes in her hair.
Only sixteen at the time, I went to St. Xavier High School, an all guys school. I was in a play. Well, okay, I was only one of the multitude in the chorus but I was in the play. Cathy attended a girls high school across town but came to participate in the play. (It was a good way to meet guys.) In fact, she was the art director for the play and created the sets for the musical we were doing called Take Me Along.
Now to the bet. I got my nerve to approach her on dress rehearsal night while she was busy painting the final flat, a red dragon for the bar scene in the musical. I said, “I don’t think you’re going to have that ready for opening night.” (I know, great pick up line.)
She flashed that beautiful smile at me and asked, with a twinkle in those green eyes—at least I think it was a twinkle. She also had paint on her face. “What do you want to bet?”
“A coke.” I was a real big spender.
“Done.” She reached out her hand splattered with red and I shook.
Returning two hours later, I found her standing next to the finished flat, hands and face now clean. I bought her the Coke and we found a quiet place to talk. Oh, and we had our first kiss that evening in the bleachers. We still celebrate it as our first date. April 26.
But you see, I wasn’t that easy to catch. Back then, I considered myself somewhat of a ladies man. What did I know. I once invited three different girls to the same dance, one of them Cathy. (By the way, that didn’t go very well.) Other girls I knew and dated were prettier or had bigger hair or were more seductive, but Cathy had something special. When we were together and she gave me that incredible smile, my heart melted.
By the end of our junior year, we found each other and “went steady” from then on. In fact, we dated for five years, through the end of high school and through three years of college—which is all it took me because I wanted to get married.
We tied the knot in 1972.
And that was only the beginning. Our love produced three beautiful, talented, loving children, a girl and two boys. Each new arrival stretched the bounds of the love story and only made it richer.
But it certainly wasn’t happily ever after. Our love story had to survive some very lean years. For more than a decade, we were a one salary family and a teacher’s salary at that.
“No dear, we have to wait till Friday to go the grocery. I’ll get paid then.”
“Sorry, son, we can’t afford to buy the Nintendo.”
Even broke, we managed to smile and laugh through most of it.
Our love story endured moves to six different towns, all for my work. Thank you, Cathy. Together, we built four new houses—you know, the experience they say makes or breaks a marriage. We survived and even prospered.
Fast forward Fifty years.
Perhaps, best of all, our story breathed love into our three grown children, one now the Aquatic Director for the largest YMCA in the country, another a senior computer engineer for Apple and the third, the Creative Director for CNN International and most important, each with their own love story. And all three are remarkable partners and parents. Then, the piece de resistance of our epic amore, seven incredible grandchildren, who only continue to expand our love story even further.
Don’t get me wrong, we’ve had easy times and not-so-easy times. We suffered through hard patches and had soft landings. Certainly not a bed of roses, although maybe that applies as roses come with plenty of thorns. A few years back, I thought I was going to lose Cathy when she contracted a strange infection, candida albicans, which claims 45% of its victims. She has recovered well but talk about obtaining clarity on what’s important.
Like I said, definitely not happily ever after.
The remarkable nature and longevity of our real love story hit me a few years ago. As it happened, we were touring Hawaii in February and were having a celebratory dinner on Valentine’s Day at this beautiful restaurant on the beach. For the occasion, the maître de was visiting tables and offering a rose to each of the ladies. He stopped, wished us Happy Valentine’s Day and asked how many we had celebrated together. Cathy and I glanced at each other, calculating, and after a beat, both announced this was the 50th Valentines Day we had shared. We hadn’t realized it until that moment.
To our surprise, the gentleman straightened up and announced to the entire dining crowd we were celebrating our 50th Valentine’s Day! Patrons around the room rose and gave us a standing ovation. We were a bit embarrassed, but secretly loved it. Throughout our meal, several woman came by to say congrats and handed Cathy their rose. She left with a bouquet.
Perhaps not happily ever after, but definitely happy.
Like I said, a real love story.
Hope this Valentine’s Day found you adding to your real love story.
Dr. Overbeck’s bestselling trilogy, the Haunted Shores Mysteries, have gained recognition and earned national awards—nine thus far—as convincing paranormal mysteries. But beneath the mysteries and the who-hoo lie a compelling love story. The lovers meet in Blood on the Chesapeake, their love blossoms in Crimson at Cape May and they honeymoon together in Scarlet at Crystal River, all the while unraveling mysteries and hunting bad guys. Perhaps, not your usual love story as it is entwined with murders and ghosts, but one readers will enjoy, especially during this month of romance. Details on his books can be found on his website,http://www.authorrandyoverbeck.com
I worked for a woman who told my teenage self that there was someone for everyone, if you are paying attention and grab them when they come into your life.
I met him because I was dating the guy who lived across the hall from him in the dorm. I saw him from time to time on campus and thought he was cute. He had a Southern kind of accent… And those amazing blue eyes.
We shared our first kiss before we ever had our first date. He invited me to his birthday party in the dorm. I was late for a date with someone else so I could accept the invitation to go to his party first. He walked me to my car and kissed me. It was remembering all the specifics of that kiss – on that February night standing next to my green Gremlin in the cold outside Scott Hall – that scored us big points in the Newlywed game we played at the church Sweetheart Banquet years later. When both of our answers matched exactly, the preacher said, “It must have been some kiss!”
In the fall, I stopped to see my friend, Susie, in that same co-ed dorm. She wasn’t in, but when I cut through the guys’ side, there he was. I must have been remembering that kiss. I invited him to come home with me for lunch, even though I was still dating someone else. He said yes. We had to make a detour on the way to my apartment, to the grocery store to pick up something to make for lunch – chicken noodle soup, bologna, bread and barbeque potato chips. If he thought it was odd that I had no groceries after inviting him to lunch, he didn’t say anything.
We had a nice lunch, sitting at my table in front of the big picture window of my first floor apartment. My landlord walked by and waved. He went back to the dorm after lunch. I was still thinking about him, when the guy I was dating called. He screamed, “You had a man in your apartment!” My landlord was his brother-in-law so news like that didn’t take too long to be delivered.
The long story made short is I called him sobbing about the break-up. I guess he felt sorry for me. In between sobs, he asked if I wanted to go out with him that night and forget my troubles. I said yes. On the way out the door, I dumped my penny jar in my purse. Much to the dismay of our waitress, we paid for our pitcher with two hundred pennies. The date was just what I needed. He was fun. He was smart and charming and those eyes… And the kiss six months earlier was only a preview of those to come.
After our impromptu date, there was no one else for either of us. Although, there was one old flame who liked to borrow albums from him so she could see him alone when he came to get them back. Her taste in music must have changed. When I picked up the borrowed album, instead of him, she never borrowed one again.
Now we celebrate two anniversaries every year – our first “date” and our wedding! That first kiss that started my romance was forty-nine years ago this month. The preacher was right… it was some kiss!
Kim Ligon has been writing stories for most of her life – some on paper and some only in her head. She has lots of source material growing up as the oldest child in a large family in a small town in Wisconsin. Her father was a veternarian so there were not only lots of children around, but all manner of house pets and farm animals too. Her love of reading comes from her mother who was seldom seen sitting down without a book in her hand. After a demanding career in healthcare information technology, she is now getting to do all the creative things she loves which includes writing her stories to share with you. She lives with her chief encourager and personal romantic hero, her husband of almost forever, in Alabama. Please follow her further adventures at www.spinningromance.com.
Kim’s debut novel, Polly’s List is available now.
CJ Reynolds couldn’t wait to escape his hometown. He’s loving his bachelor life as a software developer in California. So much so that he hasn’t been back in years to see the grandmother who raised him.
Mikal Benson believes he small town is perfect for raising her son, Will, alone. When Mikal finds her neighbor, Polly Rogers, sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood, barely clinging to life, she calls Polly’s grandson – CJ Reynolds – and insists he must come home. Now!
From her coma, Polly whispers three words that change everything. Did she fall or was she pushed? CJ, Mikal, and Will form an unlikely team coming together to discover the truth as danger engulfs and love transforms them into a family.
WWII has been over for nearly two years, but the Occupation is ongoing. Americans hold Bavaria and the small city southwest of Munich where my mother lives. She’s 26, still living with her parents. She’s lost a brother in the submarine corps. Her sister’s husband was shot down on the Russian front, but he somehow made it home. Rationing and curfews are the stuff of their daily life. She works the late shift as a nurse’s aide. She and her coworkers must be escorted home by the US Military Police.
Drafted at his high school graduation on VE day, my father is barely 20, one of the lucky ones posted to Occupation Europe. It’s cold, damp, and the rations are nothing to write home about, but he grew up in the Northwoods without indoor plumbing or electricity, and he worked his way through high school milking cows. Life in the Army is pretty good for a smart kid who doesn’t drink or smoke. He’s already a sergeant in the MPs.
One night he and his partner escort local nurses’ aides home after curfew. They pick them up in their jeep and drive the women home through darkened cobblestone streets. One of the women, a pretty brunette with long, wavy hair smiles at him. He remembers that smile. She only speaks German, but he can fix that. The army offers courses in German. Soon, he’s teaching her English with comic books while he practices his German.
By 1948 he and his buddies all have German girlfriends, and some couples want to marry. Regulations say anyone who marries a foreign national must return stateside with the spouse within a month of the wedding. Decision time. Will my mother leave everyone she loves, the city she grew up in, her entire culture to follow this American soldier to a country that defeated hers? Will she step into the unknown with only the man she loves to keep her company? Will the new world be better than the current one?
It’s a life-changing choice, but she makes it. In a whirlwind they have three weddings over two weekends: one to satisfy the German government, one to satisfy the American government, and one to satisfy the church. Then they’re on a train to Bremerhaven for her first ocean crossing. As she stands on deck, she says goodbye to her homeland, her continent, wondering if she’ll ever return, if she’ll ever see her family again.
She’s followed her man to New Jersey, then to his home in the Northwoods while he serves in Korea, then to Illinois when he returns. On to Ft. Lewis, Washington, traveling across this vast nation by car in 1956, then back six months later all the way to the port of NYC for a much-desired return tour of duty in Germany for three years to spend reconnecting with family. Then to West Texas for three years, then back to Illinois, then on to the Northwoods when he retires. Now she has a new role, wife of a teacher. Later, when he retires from that, she’s the wife of an alderman.
Seventy-two years she’s followed her man, become a citizen, adapted to a new culture, worked and played and made friends, raised a family. Together, she and my father have created a legacy of love, hard work, and adventure for those of us that follow. When love calls, they’ve shown us, take a chance.
After growing up following these parents around this country and Europe, I couldn’t help but take their example to heart. I’ve followed my man in government service from Montana to the Midwest, and we’ve traveled together to three continents and dozens of countries. Everywhere I’ve lived or visited has informed my writing, and the love I’ve seen and shared inspires my work. My author tagline is “Hearts in Search of Home” because I’ve learned that home is wherever those you love choose to make it: https://helencjohannes.blogspot.com/
In celebration of the Month of Love, I’ve put my first book on sale on Amazon Kindle for 99 cents. An enemies-to-lovers fantasy romance, THE PRINCE OF VAL-FEYRIDGE, Crown of Tolem Series #1, is loosely inspired by that sense of adventure and willingness to take a chance my parents imparted to me.
She’s all wrong for Prince Arn, this lowborn healer who keeps meddling in his march to conquer her homeland. If only she hadn’t helped him, and he hadn’t kissed her, he could stop looking for her everywhere, hoping to find her…again.
When people say “love defies boundaries,” I’m pretty sure they mean national, geographic, or even topographical. The Chinese-Welsh couple. The girl from Seattle and the boy from Miami. The groom who climbs the mountain to claim his bride on the other side.
My experience of love is that species is as permeable a boundary as any other. I’ve been lucky enough to find interspecies sweethearts many times, from my first turtle Soozie to my boa constrictor Stripe. But my heart was never filled—or broken—so thoroughly in cross-species love as by Blanche.
Blanche got her name from A Streetcar Named Desire. You know, the character Blanche DuBois, who says, “I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” Blanche came to my hand as a ten-day-old feral kitten. When I say “came to my hand,” I mean that literally. She was so tiny her whole body fit on my palm. Her eyes hadn’t opened yet.
I had lost my longtime feline friend Kitty O’Shea just a month earlier, and wasn’t ready for another cat. Definitely not ready for an infant cat, one whose chances of survival without a mother and littermates was slim.
“Oh, no,” I told my friend John, who’d found the kitten on his farm. “I can’t do this.”
“I couldn’t just leave her. That mother cat never comes back to her kittens. She’s stressed and dumps them so she can survive.”
The harsh truth of feral life. I didn’t try to argue about it. Instead, I gave a heavy sigh, put the kitten in a nest of rags with a hot water bottle, and went out to buy feline pediatric formula and the tiniest feeding bottle I had ever seen.
At an age when my own fertility was a rapidly receding image in the rear view mirror, I became a new mom. Four-hour feedings—including in the middle of the night. My furry newborn had such strong feral genes that she fought even sustenance, and a nursing session left me with bloody scratches on the hand holding the bottle. After the feeding, came the burping, with Blanche draped over my shoulder on a flannel cloth to catch the bubbles of milk when she belched. Then, the bum washing, which I learned to do under a stream of warm water from the sink faucet. After that, the patting dry, the stowing of the by-then sleeping baby in a padded orange crate, with a corncob pillow heated gently in the microwave.
Feed. Burp. Wash. Dry. Tuck in. Sleep. Repeat.
When Blanche got old enough to walk without falling over, she explored. Tiny circles on the living room rug at first, then slightly bigger ones, always returning to my lap. She was a cute infant, but with each passing day she became more beautiful. More beautiful, in fact, than any cat I’d ever owned. (And believe me, I passed that “every life has nine cats” yardstick a couple decades ago.)
She was totally white, not a black hair on her body. Pink toe pads, nose, and inside ears. Eyes … Blanche’s eyes were sapphires, seen through ice. Large, brilliant blue, clear, knowing.
Apart from beauty, she had courage—another donation from her feral genes, or so the vet said. She was so fearless she scared the wits out of me at least once a day. One of her favorite perches was the top edge of an interior door—an inch and a half in width and six feet off the floor. For safety’s sake, since suburbia is at least as dangerous as the country, she lived indoors. But there wasn’t a square inch of my 1920s bungalow that Blanche hadn’t found a way to turn into a jungle gym.
And not just the house. Blanche loved the car. John and I had an Irish band, which periodically meant piling instruments, P.A., and ourselves in a van and heading off to festivals, workshops, ceilis, concerts, pub gigs, St. Patrick’s Day … After the gear went in, Blanche went in, too. She had a traveling crate, of course, but her favorite perch was on top of a speaker, where she could glare out the window at people in passing cars.
People. That’s where the love story becomes complicated. Blanche—who apparently thought I was her birth mother—adored me. Every day, in a dozen different ways, she said I was the center of her universe, her reason for getting off the bed in the morning and curling up peacefully at night. John, she tolerated. Most of the time.
And that was it. She let one pair of two-legs into her life and the needle of her tolerance went to Full. It wasn’t just dislike of outsiders; it was full-on, battle-ready rage. The plumber, the a/c repair tech, the census taker, the UPS person, the hapless kid selling candy bars for the high school band—in Blanche’s book, they were marked for death the instant they attempted to ring the doorbell.
It was—challenging. Over the years, I adapted more and more to Blanche’s unreasonable and unyielding hatred of strangers. She couldn’t change. I could, and I did. Over time, I got fewer visitors and had almost no friends left. Unscarred ones, anyway.
Some people—people who’ve never loved an animal that deeply and been loved that deeply in return—thought I was loopydoodle. They’re entitled to an opinion. Blanche would have given her life for me; that was her opinion. If that plumber or a/c repairman or kid with the candy bars had made the slightest hostile move in my direction, my furry warrior would’ve taken them on. A fight to the death to protect her loved one. Morituri te salutant, as the gladiators said.
Blanche had to be euthanized, due to terminal lymphoma, at age ten. At the end, she could only get around by dragging her hindquarters. She hadn’t eaten in weeks, and weighed four pounds. She was on morphine for the pain. But the blue fire of her eyes—that still glowed. And the beat of her heart, the tiny heart I’d felt against my shoulder when she fell asleep after a bottle feeding …
That heart was still there. It beat for me, as mine—after years and years—still beats for her.
A career historian, Annie R. McEwen has lived in Spain, France, the U.K., and Morocco. Her background helps her create award-winning romance set in faraway times and places. Winner of the 2022 Page Turners Award, Genre (Romance) Category, Annie also garnered both First and Second Place honors in the 2022 RTTA (Romance Through Ages Award from Romance Writers of America) and multiple Honorable Mentions and/or publication on platforms like Globe Soup, Reedsy, and others. When not in her 1920s bungalow in Florida, Annie lives, researches, and writes in Wales. Annie is represented by Blue Ridge Literary Agency. To follow her journey check out her website: https://www.anniermcewen.com/
I was the new hire at JCPenney, working in the fragrance department. I had just graduated from high school, and was ready to fulfill big dreams. Upon clocking in, going on break, and clocking out, I had to walk through the young men’s department; where he worked. Spiky black hair, deep brown eyes, an infectious laugh, garnished with a studded belt and a leather wrist strap.
I don’t know if the traditional version of love at first sight exists, but I do know that I felt something when I locked eyes with him. (Uh, yeah, Chelsey, it’s called lust.) No, it wasn’t. The thoughts running through my mind were not, “Omg, he’s so hot!” There was a strong spiritual pull, and I had to get to know him.
For the first several weeks all we exchanged was a smile and “Hi.” Then one day he stopped me. “How do you say your name?”
“Chelsey.” I looked down at his name tag: GERSON. I was screwed. My rudimentary high school Spanish had not prepared me to even begin to attempt a correct pronunciation. “How do you say your name?”
He smiled. A wicked glint in his eye. “Try.”
I stared at his name tag. “Gare-sun?”
He chuckled. “Close. It’s Grr-sun, rhymes with person.”
The correct pronunciation is actually hare-sone. When Gerson was in kindergarten, his teacher called him “grr-sun” and he stuck with it.
The summer was almost over when Gerson overheard me talking to another coworker about college preparations. Gerson butted into the conversation in what I would later learn is his personal brand of teasing. “You’re going to BYU?” His tone came across as incredibly judgmental. (You see, in Utah, you either love BYU or hate BYU.)
I might have put my hand on my hips. “Yeah. Do you have a problem with that?”
Gerson laughed. “No. I go to BYU, too.”
Shortly after that, he learned I was 18, and I learned he was 24. We almost stopped pursuing one another, but we couldn’t stay away. Plus, in our shared religious culture, that kind of age difference isn’t a big deal. I technically asked him on our first date, but I brought my friend as a third wheel so it wasn’t a real date. I wanted him to ask me on our first real date; and he did, a couple days later.
From that second date on, we ate lunch together on campus every day. We spent every free moment together. We fell in love fast and hard. Even then, I didn’t think we should get engaged for at least a year. I was barely 19, had big dreams for my ballroom dance career, and he was six years older than me. Gerson agreed because he didn’t want to push me and lose me, but he was ready to marry ASAP.
Gerson went home to California for Christmas, and I was miserable. When couples spend time apart, one of two things happen: “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” or “Out of sight, out of mind”. Luckily for us, the first one happened. When Gerson returned to Utah to celebrate New Year’s with me, I told him I had missed him so much that I didn’t want to wait a year to get engaged. I wanted to marry him as soon as he wanted.
Telling my parents was really scary. I talked to my mom first. I started crying and asked her if she and my dad would support me if I married Gerson that year. She hugged me and said, “Of course!” She talked to my dad privately and he called Gerson and I into his office. (The fourth bedroom in our house, full of storage boxes and a card table with my dad’s desktop computer and my mom’s sewing machine.)
“Mom said you two want to get married.” His facial expression was neutral.
My heart stopped. Gerson and I looked at each other, panic in our eyes. “Yes.”
My dad smiled. “It’s okay. We’ll support you.”
We did things a little backwards after that. We picked the date and booked the venue before he officially proposed, but the ring was on its way. We knew we were going to get married.
Gerson had one more fun conversation to have with my dad: the traditional asking for permission. They were watching sports (probably Football considering it was February) and my dad was grading papers (he’s a high school math teacher).
Gerson cleared his throat. “I don’t know if Debbie told you, but the ring arrived.”
My dad nodded. “Yeah, she told me.”
“And I know I’m supposed to ask you permission…”
My dad leaned back and chuckled. “I have always told Chelsey that I will never tell her who to marry, but I will tell her who to not marry. And I haven’t told her to not marry you.”
Gerson nodded. “Thanks.” And they went back to watching TV.
He proposed on the banks of Utah Lake, where he had asked me to be his girlfriend five months prior. It was Superbowl Sunday, and I felt pretty special that he missed the beginning of the game to propose – though he would later admit it was because he didn’t care about the teams playing that year. Still, it was a great day, and February is a special month for us.
I may have been young. We might have dated for too short a time in the eyes of many. But thirteen years later, I don’t regret it. We have a beautiful family. We support one another in our dreams and desires. And we love each other.
This post is the first of several other Real Life Romances to come during this month of love. New authors, new stories each post. Check back Friday February 3rd for the next installment.
I read the first three Harry Potter books when I was in third grade. That was 1999. I got to stand in line at midnight for the remaining releases. I grew up with Harry. I was 10 when the 4th book was released, 13 when the 5th book was released, 15 when the 6th book was released, and 17 when the 7th book was released. However, if the entire series had already been published by the time I discovered the books in 1999, I would have gotten to the 5th, 6th, and 7th books and a lot of vital information would have gone over my head.
In between book releases, I discovered another series: Charlie Bone. The first book Midnight for Charlie Bone by Jenny Nimmo, starts out a lot like Harry Potter. Charlie is a young boy on the cusp of adolescence, and has discovered that he can hear people in photographs. Charlie’s father died under mysterious circumstances, and he was raised by his mom, two grandmothers and three great-aunts.
Upon the revelation of Charlie’s powers, his paternal grandmother and great-aunts decide he is no longer worthless and send him to Bloor’s Academy, a school for the gifted and talented. On the surface, the gifted and talented students are either budding artists, musicians, or actors. Hidden behind the school’s walls, a small group of students are there because they have very special talents like Charlie: one student can hypnotize, another can feel the emotions in clothing, and another can turn into a beast.
People who have such talents are considered to be descendents of the Red King, an ancient sorcerer whose crumbling castle lies behind Bloor’s Academy. The Red King had twelve children, who began to fight as they grew up and moved away. Descendents loyal to their ancestor continue to fight on the side their ancestor chose.
There are eight books in the series. Throughout those eight books Charlie works on his talent, helps his fellow classmates, and tries to solve the mystery of what happened to his dad.
The order of the books are as follows:
Midnight for Charlie Bone
Charlie Bone and the Time Twister
Charlie Bone and the Invisible Boy
Charlie Bone and the Castle of Mirrors
Charlie Bone and the Hidden King
Charlie Bone and the Beast
Charlie Bone and the Shadow
Charlie Bone and the Red Knight
The reason why I think this series is a great segue to Harry Potter for young readers is one, the obvious similarities. Two, each book only covers a few days to a few weeks of time. So from book one to book eight, Charlie ages only one or two years, which keeps the danger, death, and evil to age appropriate levels (for my conservative mind, anyway). Granted, there are some characters and scenes that as an adult, I noticed are way more evil and cruel than I realized when I was young; but it’s kind of like adult jokes in a Disney movie – the kids don’t get it, but the parents know exactly what’s going on.
The Charlie Bone series is definitely a hidden gem in mid-grade literature. If your young readers like fantasy, this is a great series to introduce them to.
If that title feels like a mouthful, it is. You see, if I had titled this post “Favorite Books from 2022”, it would give you the impression that I was going to tell you about my favorite books I read in 2022 that were also published in 2022. That is simply not the case because I am nowhere near that caught up on my to-read list.
Shouldn’t this list have come out sometime in December? Perhaps. It is common to publish “The Year’s Best” in December, not January. However, I was going to finish two books on December 31st, so if they were going to make this post, I had to wait a few days.
Out of the 69 books I read in 2022, 16 make it into the “best” category. Here are my favorite reads from 2022:
Lord of Druemarwin by Helen C. Johannes is the sequel to The Prince of Val-Feyridge. Together, they make The Crown of Tolem series. Both books follow a larger plotline of a fantasy world separated into three kingdoms. The three kingdoms used to be one. A descendent of the original king, Prince Arn is on a military campaign to reunite the three kingdoms. On this campaign he meets a seemingly magical healer named Aerid, and an intense enemies to lovers storyline brings us through the unification of two of the three kingdoms. The sequel gives us a new couple: Raell and Naed. Naed is the new Lord of Druemarwin, an important principality in the third kingdom. Raell’s father is a Lord in Arn’s kingdom. The two met at the end of Arn’s and Aerid’s story, and their attraction to each other works with Arn’s plans for the kingdoms. There are, of course, players who don’t want a unified kingdom, and will sabotage Naed’s and Raell’s relationship to prevent that. Naed and Raell come from different worlds. And after successfully proving that he fits in hers, it’s Raell’s turn to prove she fits in his.
I devoured both of these books. I normally read 2-3 books at a time, rotating chapters. (Don’t judge, I just simply can’t read only one at a time.) But with both of these I paused all my other reading and read only this series, it was that good. I loved the complexity of the characters. The obvious care Ms. Johannes had taken in world building. And of course the danger mixed with romance – I always need some action and excitement with my love stories. I hope more stories in this amazing world are on the horizon.
Revolting by Maureen Atsali is a fated mate romance on the Dreame reading app. The reason this one made the list is because it is so unique from other fated mate stories on Dreame.
Revolting starts out as a trope that I generally don’t care for: the Alpha doesn’t want his mate, but his wolf won’t let her go, so he keeps her prisoner while he sleeps with other women. I almost stopped reading. But then, Ms. Atsali went off the traditional path and gave us a wonderful story about a strong woman escaping her abuser and mate bond, and taking charge of her life.
Nina’s father (Alpha of her pack) sets her up in an arranged marriage with the Alpha of another pack they need an alliance with. Alpha Nolan turns out to be her fated mate, but he doesn’t want a mate. He goes through with the marriage, but treats Nina horribly. Nina overcomes the mate bond, rejects Nolan and runs away. Her short time in Nolan’s pack earned her some friends who hate how their Alpha is treating her, and they run away with her, and work on creating a new pack.
If you like fated mate stories, this one is definitely worth a read.
The Last Tudor, The King Maker’s Daughter, The White Princess
I have been a huge fan of Philippa Gregory since I was 17. My high school English teacher lent me his personal copy of The Other Boleyn Girl and told me he thought I might like it. I loved it. It’s still my favorite Philippa Gregory book to this day. And that book put me on the path to becoming a high school history teacher.
I like Ms. Gregory’s form of historical fiction. She focuses on women, which gives her less factual information than if she were writing about a man. This leads to lots of hole filling on her part. Because of this she is often criticized for inaccurately depicting many of her characters; but she always explains why she deviates from the commonly accepted narratives – and she usually has some merit with those reasons. Even if I disagree with an angle she might put on some events and characters (which is rare), I respect her reasons why.
The Last Tudor is about the three Grey sisters: Jane, Katherine, and Mary. They were the final living Tudor relatives of Elizabeth I. Jane’s fate is the most well known: queen for 9 days and ordered to the execution block by her own cousin Mary I. Katherine survived Mary’s reign, but not Elizabeth’s. She married for love and gave birth to two boys. Because her husband was high born as well, her children were threats to Elizabeth and her throne. Elizabeth separated them, and Katherine died alone and heartbroken. Mary thinks she will avoid Elizabeth’s jealous gaze if she marries a widower of a lower status. But Elizabeth will never allow her relatives to be happy while she isn’t.
The Kingmaker’s Daughter is about Anne Neville, Richard III’s wife. Her entire life was a constant roller coaster. As the Yorks and the Lancasters fought for the throne, her family rose and fell depending on who was king – with her dad in the middle of the fighting. Anne and her sister, Isabelle are her father’s only legitimate children, making their marriages of utmost importance in his political games. She was first married to the Lancastrian heir, and widowed in a few months. She later married Richard in secret, putting her back in the royal family as her husband was King Edward IV’s youngest brother. Many familial dramas and battles later, Anne became Queen of England. But being queen isn’t the glamorous life her childhood dreams imagined.
The White Princess covers the early years of Elizabeth of York’s marriage to Henry Tudor. Princess Elizabeth was going to marry the winner of the Battle of Bosworth: Richard III or Henry Tudor. Either way, she would be Queen of England. Richard was supposed to be the obvious winner, but last minute turncoats caused a Tudor victory. Elizabeth and Henry’s marriage was a constant rotation of hatred, love, and suspicion. The part of their marriage this book highlights surrounds the legend of Elizabeth’s missing brothers – the princes in the tower. In Gregory’s series, the older Prince, Edward did die, but the younger brother, Richard was smuggled out. He returns as a grown man, married, and ready to get his family’s throne back. Elizabeth is torn between protecting the inheritance of her own sons, and her baby brother whom she thought long lost.
The Sookie Stackhouse Series by Charlaine Harris
I came across the world of Sookie Stackhouse from a facebook comment of all things. I had commented on a Harry Potter fan page meme about turning the books into a TV series. I said that I had yet to watch a TV series that stayed true to the book. In fact, I consider most TV series adaptations fan fiction because most only keep the characters names and maybe small aspects of the original plot. Because TV series have so much more wiggle room than movies, they can add characters and side plots and all sorts of other things, then all of a sudden it’s no longer the same story. I gave the examples of Pretty Little Liars, The Vampire Diaries, and Witches of East End. The replies to my comment focused on The Vampire Diaries, and we went down a vampire hole, with one person recommending HBO’s True Blood. My personal mantra is to read the book first, so here I am, reading the Sookie Stackhouse series before I sign up for HBO so I can watch True Blood.
Sookie is a barmaid in Bon Temps, Louisiana. She has struggled her whole life because she can read minds. Everyone in Bon Temps knows, but tries to pretend it’s not true. People avoid her and treat her as less than. Vampires have recently gone public, and when Sookie meets a vampire for the first time, she is pleased to learn she can’t read vampire minds, which gives her a nice break. Saving a vampire, Bill Compton from drainers (human hunters who drain vampires of their blood), and her special ability throws Sookie into the supernatural world. Throughout the series she gets involved in vampire conflicts, shifter conflicts, witch conflicts, and fairy conflicts; all while trying to figure out a steady love life.
There are thirteen books in the main series, starting with Dead Until Dark, which was published in 2001. In 2022 I read books 2-8. I’m currently on book 10, so I haven’t finished the series yet. But so far I have loved Sookie’s story. I think my favorite thing is Sookie’s growth throughout the series. In the earlier books she lets people walk all over her – a mixture of southern manners and trauma from being bullied for being different. As we get into the later books, Sookie finally starts standing up for herself and calling people out when they mistreat her. I also love all the worldbuilding done for all the supernatural species Sookie encounters.
Hands down, my #1 books from my 2022 reading list was the Sookie Stackhouse books. I look forward to finishing the series, and I can’t wait to watch True Blood.
Jillie by Olive Balla is an amazing suspense novel. 12 year old me would have read this over and over again – shout out to my two member club I founded with my cousin: The Mystery Hiking Girls. Jillie, the titular character, has been recently orphaned and taken in by her older sister and her sister’s abusive husband. One day, her sister is being beaten up by said husband, and Jillie stabs him to protect her sister. The stab is lethal, and Jillie ends up in juvenile court. The beating put her sister in a coma, which sends Jillie to her dead brother-in-law’s parents’ house. His vengeful and selfish family makes Jillie’s life a living hell, so she runs away. The rest of the book covers Jillie’s adventure as she evades her brother-in-law’s family, the police, and befriends energetic elderly twin sisters – who get their own spin off called Code Murder. Like The Crown of Tolem series, I paused my other reading to devour this book, and Olive Balla’s other books are now on my radar.
The Bridgerton Series by Julia Quinn
Like many other new Bridgerton fans, I came across these books after falling in love with Daphne and The Duke of Hastings on Netflix. I read the first three books before Season 2 came out, so now I’m ahead for future season releases. In 2022, I read books 3-5, which cover Benedict’s, Colin’s, and Eloise’s stories.
For those of you who don’t know, the Bridgerton series is about a family of eight siblings and their mother in early 1800s in London. As each child reaches marriageable age, Violet Bridgerton goes to great lengths to get her children married. Each book is about a different member of the Bridgerton family and their love story with their future spouse.
What I love about Julia Quinn’s storytelling, is she takes common tropes that can feel overdone, and makes them fresh and new. One of my least favorite tropes is fake dating, and yet I devoured The Duke and I. I always enjoy a good enemies to lovers, so The Viscount Who Loved Me was a given that I would love it. (I also deeply connected with Kate because during my teenage years, my cousin always got the guys.) I will be the first one to tell you that Cinderella retellings are overdone, and yet An Offer from a Gentleman drew me in immediately. What makes this one so unique, is the story starts with the ball, and the main plot focuses on two years later. By the time the reader gets to Romancing Mr. Bridgerton, we are ready for Penelope to get her happy ending, so one can easily overlook the friends to lovers trope if it isn’t your thing. And in To Sir Philip, With Love Eloise is our sunshine trying to figure out if Mr. Grump Sir Philip will make a good husband (a.k.a. opposites attract).
A side theme that Julia Quinn covers quite nicely is the historical culture surrounding the taboo of talking about sex – especially among the young ladies. She creates the perfect mixture of humor, awkwardness, and compassion. Poor Daphne goes into her wedding night knowing nothing. Violet tried to talk to her about it, but was so embarrassed herself, the entire conversation was cringe. Kate was better prepared, but went in viewing it more as a duty rather than a way to grow closer with her husband. Sophie, having spent most of her life as a servant – and servants see and hear more than they should – is the most prepared. Penelope is just as unprepared as Daphne. And Eloise tells her mother she doesn’t need the talk because she forced one of the recently married servants to tell her all about it when she was a teenager. I find all of these scenes really important and enlightening because I also grew up in a really conservative family and religious culture, and so I was able to connect to many of the conversations.
Overall, Bridgerton is sexy, romantic, and hilarious.
Here’s to a great 2023! I hope the books I read this year are just as entertaining.
The magic of Christmas through the eyes of a child is my favorite thing about Christmas. Ever since I became a mom almost ten years ago I have been saying, “I liked Christmas when I was a kid. But I love Christmas as a parent.” I love planning, shopping, and wrapping gifts for my kids. Watching them get excited at bedtime the night before, waking me up at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning, and the energetic unwrapping is so fun. Leading up to Christmas, we make desserts, watc movies, and play games.
Because of this child centered Christmas in my home, my favorite books about Christmas are children’s books. Allow me to introduce to you my top 4.
The Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburg
I think this may be the most popular of the four books on my list. Script writers even added extra plotlines to turn this story into a full length movie. A little boy is struggling to fall asleep on Christmas Eve. The sound of a train brings him outside of his house, and sure enough, a train is sitting there. The conductor invites him on and the train is filled with other children, and the train is taking theml to the North Pole. The North Pole is a large city – quite different from the small village it is more commonly depicted in other stories. The train’s passengers get to watch Santa take off for his flight around the world. The little boy – who is the narrator, so we don’t know his name, but the movie gives him the name of Billy – is chosen to ask Santa for a gift. He chooses a bell from Santa’s sleigh, it is the first gift of Christmas. On the train ride back home, the boy realizes that his bathrobe had a hole in the pocket, and the bell fell out. He is devastated, but the next morning, opens a present that has the bell in it and a note from Santa. His parents can’t hear the bell ring and think it’s broken. He and his sister can. As they grow up, his sister also loses the ability to hear the bell, but he never does because he believes.
Drummer Boy by Loren Long
A little boy gets an early Christmas present: a little drummer boy. The child’s love and attention warms the drummer boy’s heart, and he plays his drum for the boy when they are alone. One morning the dog’s tail accidentally knocks the drummer boy into the trash can, and the drummer boy goes on an adventure. On this adventure he plays his drum for a rat in the dump, baby owls in a nest, the entire city on the top of a bell tower, the stars while impaled on a thorn bush, a snowman, and a cemetery. The entire time he misses the little boy. The next morning in the cemetery, he hears, “Merry Christmas, Grandpa.” It’s the little boy! While visiting his grandfather’s grave, the boy sees his missing toy and takes him home. The child places the drummer boy in the nativity decoration, and the drummer boy plays his drum for the baby Jesus and his heart feels warm.
The Tale of Three Trees: A Traditional Folktale by Angela Elwell Hunt
In this story, three large and tall trees are growing near each other, and talk about their dreams for the future.The first two trees want to be chopped down and built into a treasure chest and a powerful ship. The third tree hopes to remain in the ground and grow as tall as he can. He wants people to think of heaven and God when they see him. All three trees are chopped down. The first two are made into versions of their dreams. The one who wanted to be a treasure chest is presented to a baby filled with fine things of the ancient world. The one who wanted to be a powerful ship is made into a fishing boat. One day a man who can control the storm and walk on water sails in him. The third one is made into a feeding box for animals. One special night, a baby is laid in him. And in that moment he knows he will inspire people to think of God.
Santa’s Book of Names by David McPhail
It’s Christmas Eve, and a young boy, Edward, has woken up to Santa delivering presents to his house. He sneaks out to the living room, but Santa is gone. Edward finds a book he can’t read, but correctly guesses it’s Santa’s book. He tries to catch Santa before he takes off. The best he can do is draw a giant “B” in the snow. Santa returns, and Santa has lost his glasses, so he enlists Edward to read through his book to tell him what gift is assigned to whom. Edward’s night with Santa helps him improve his reading skills.
All four of these heartwarming stories have a similar theme: belief. “Billy” from the Polar Express keeps his belief all through his adult life, allowing him to always hear that Christmas bell from Santa’s sleigh. The drummer boy believes in his song, and after half a dozen practice audiences, knows that it is a valuable gift to the Savior of the world. Though the three trees did not get their original visions of their futures, they all served Jesus Christ and believed he was special. And Edward learns to believe in himself just as his parents and Santa believed in him.
I have said in previous posts that my favorite fantasy/paranormal beings are witches. My second favorite are vampires. I especially love vampire romances. When I was on the older end of playing pretend, I played this solo game by myself where I was the new girl in a small Transylvania town. Since my pretend self was different, I got teased at school, which opened me up to being targeted by the local vampire coven. No, I promise Twilight did not inspire that game. I played that when I was 12, Twilight came out when I was 16.
Speaking of Twilight, like many young women of my generation, that series was my introduction to paranormal romance and paranormal fiction. I inhaled the first two books in three days and set myself on the path to other great series: Beautiful Creatures, Witches of East End, The Vampire Diaries, Sookie Stackhouse, The House of Night.
Vampire stories are in abundance. And some people think that means they are overdone. But like any other product, publishers accept stories based on what they think will sell. Plenty of readers enjoy vampire romances, and are eager to read more. I am one of those readers. So, if you haven’t already found this delectable series, I highly recommend theAlpha Council Chronicles by Brenda Sparks.
This adventurous six book series takes readers through the courtship of six different couples around the world. Throughout the series readers get to visit Las Vegas, Georgia, Russia, Wyoming, and Australia. These couples are connected through the male vampire in each partnership, as these men form a group known as the Alpha Council. The Alpha Council ensures that vampires around the world stay hidden and don’t kill humans indiscriminately. One example of vampire morals in this world: “good” vampires do not drink from pregnant women or children, and they don’t drain their food.
In Ms. Sparks’ world, vampires can have biological children with each other; but fertility rates are low, and female vampires who do become pregnant have a high risk of miscarriage or death during labor. Born female vampires have an easier chance of becoming pregnant than turned female vampires, because turned female vampires’ bodies have been damaged during the turn and need centuries to heal.
Vampires have soulmates called heartmates, and they know who their heartmate is when they taste their blood. If their heartmate is human, they have to cautiously court them, introduce them to the vampire world, and convince them to turn. If their heartmate is already a vampire, courtship should technically be easier – though the two books that have that coupling prove it’s not always sunshine and rainbows. And when their heartmate is a previously unknown species, well, things get very interesting.
Alpha Mine is the first book and features Stephen von Haas and Katrina Spencer. Katrina was attacked by vampires in her late teens, and then saved from one: Marcus Botticelli. Marcus gives her a home and job in Las Vegas. Marcus is a member of the Alpha Council, and when his leader Stephen visits, the pull between Katrina and Stephen is instant. There is only one problem, Katrina will not allow Stephen to drink her blood, so he must settle for falling in love with her without knowing if she is his heartmate. While their relationship blossoms, Stephen gains an enemy from an ancient vampire who does not want to adhere to the Council’s rules for modern day living. He sets his sights on Katrina as leverage and revenge.
Deadly Alpha is Marcus’ turn for love in Savanna, Georgia. He comes upon a multi car pileup on the freeway, and decides to help because he needs to get home before the sun rises. He meets a nurse, Christina Prescott, one of the victims of the accident. However, her injuries are minor, and she is able to help the other victims once Marcus frees her from her car. Christina gets a small cut on her forehead from the accident, and one drop of her blood falls into Marcus’ mouth. Sparks fly. She’s his heartmate. Unlike our previous couple, where the human female knew all about vampires, Christina is completely unaware of the supernatural. Marcus must cautiously and carefully court her. In the meantime, the Council is called in because a rogue vampire is kidnapping, torturing, and killing human women all over the city. Before they can stop the attacks, the anonymous villian targets Christina; and now the clock is ticking. Marcus must identify, find, and capture the rogue before he takes Christina away forever.
Alpha Lover takes us to Russia where Nicholai Peterhof is a prince from the middle ages who did not die during the plague, but was turned into a vampire. One of his personal moral rules is to not drink from the locals. When an American and British tourist dine in his restaurant, he seduces them into his office. The American, Juliett Saint-John is his heartmate. Not only is Juliett human and lives a continent away, but she is a widow mourning her twin daughter’s death and dealing with self-esteem issues from her first marriage. This causes Nicholai to move slower than Marcus did. In this third installment, the reader is introduced to a new species: demons. Demons are shape shifters who live in deep mountain compounds due to their susceptibility to human disease. A demon princess is in Russia hunting the vampire who killed her husband. She mistakes Juliett for a vampire since she is covered in Nicholai’s scent. This puts Juliett in the line of fire. Nicholai has to figure out how to properly protect Juliett while choosing the best time to tell her what he is.
In Alpha Pair, the reader has met both male and female protagonists before: Demetri Romanoff and Tatiana Bolovich. Demetri is Nicholai’s cousin and sire. Out of the seven members of the Alpha Council, Demetri is the one most stuck in the old ways when it comes to gender roles. Tatiana is a leather wearing female warrior who does not need a man. She’s also a natural born vampire, which makes her desirable to any male who wants children. Tatiana has known Demetri is her heartmate since Marcus’ story, but has kept it a secret due to trauma from her past. Demetri went missing following a lead about the demons at the end of Nicholai’s story, and Tatiana is called upon to find and rescue him. Demetri’s time in captivity provides information as to why vampires are being targeted by demons. During the rescue Demetri learns Tatiana is his heartmate, and the two must learn how to work together and accept each other for who they are. While they figure out how to be in a healthy relationship, the demons are hot on their tail, choosing their friends’ wedding as the perfect event to hit.
Alpha Revealed takes us to Australia where Nicholai’s sister, Natasha lives. Natasha has been in love with Alpha Council member Vladimir Stairikovich for centuries. Due to his close friendship with her protective brother and cousin, the two have never been able to try a relationship, let alone test if they are heartmates. When Natasha’s neighborhood is infiltrated by demons, she is forced to flee to Vlad’s isolated farm in Siberia. In such close proximity, Vlad and Natasha must decide if risking Nicholai’s and Demetri’s wrath is worth the pull they feel. Meanwhile, Vlad’s abusive and toxic sire has been searching for him. Even if Vlad earns Nicholai’s and Demetri’s approval, he will do anything to protect Natasha from suffering the same fate as his first wife when he was human.
Alpha Eternal is the final installment, and it covers my favorite trope: forbidden love. The vampires and demons have a common enemy, so the two species must put aside their past differences in order to stand a chance of defeating the big bad. Our final Alpha, Alexander Hall, has been assigned to spend time in the demon king’s compound as an ambassador for the vampire’s and a secret spy. A female demon named Shira is ordered by her king to be Alexander’s guard while he stays in her mountain home. Shira is convinced she hates Alexander, while Alexander is having way too much fun making her blush. In the midst of a very serious world safety issue, the two have to decide if they are willing to trust each other and defy their respective leaders. Readers also get a bonus seventh couple as well!
The Alpha Council Chronicles is my favorite vampire series to date. I would rate the entire series 5 stars, as well as each individual book 5 stars. It’s also the series that introduced me to The Wild Rose Press. If you love vampires, romance, sexy couples, and high stakes, this series is for you.
Chelsey M. Ortega 