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songtoyou · 3 years

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Chapter Three: Don’t Then

Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Fabiola Rossi (OC)

Story Rating: This story will mostly be rated 18+ as it is revolves around a relationship that is Dominant/submissive. For each chapter, I will do my best to rate it accordingly, but please know that the overall story will have very adult themes.

Chapter Rating: Rated R.

Warnings: Swearing, BDSM themes, public hand job.

Word Count: 3,019

Story Summary: Huge “Ransom” Drysdale always thought of himself as a powerful man. With his family’s money and status, Ransom could get away with anything. He had the power and control others would envy. Ransom could get any woman he wanted with a snap of his fingers. He was always in charge. He commanded attention. And he hated it. Never having a job in his life (thanks to his mother, father, and grandfather always there to supplement his bank account) or any real-life goals, Ransom felt incomplete and directionless. That is until Fabiola Rossi entered his life and turned it completely upside down.

Chapter summary: Fabiola and Ransom go on their first date. They are having a good time until someone stops by to ruin the evening.

A/N: It has literally been a year since I have updated this story. I apologize about that and hope to not take as long for the next chapter.

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I do not permit any of my fics to be distributed on other sites without my permission.

Taglist: @winchwm, @patzammit

With any sexual partner, it is vital to maintain the separation of fantasy and reality. Sexual activities deemed “kinky” do not always result in instant gratification moments like movies, books, and television tend to show. Many considerations need to be involved when partaking in the acts of BDSM, such as personal feelings and possible risks. It is crucial for the Dominant to not put his or her Submissive in any uncomfortable scenarios and vice versa. BDSM interactions need to be steeped in solid communication, along with the collaboration of willingness to take personal responsibility for one’s actions and choices.

For Fabiola, she was determined to make sure that Ransom understands the essential aspects of BDSM interactions. Since he was new to BDSM, particularly as a submissive, it was her duty to help guide him throughout this unique experience. It was a responsibility that Fabiola never took for granted when it came to being a Domme. It was her duty to protect and guide her Subs when playing a scene. She loved being a Domme.

Currently, Fabiola was standing beside her closet, picking our different outfits to see what would look best for tonight. She wanted something casual and nothing too fancy. So, Fabiola opted for her dark red bandage dress with strappy side cutouts, a halter neck, and an open back with zipper closure that flattered her figure. She accompanied the dress with a black bicker chic crop jacket. Fabiola adorned the ensemble with black peep-toe ankle boots with lace embroidery and buckles, along with a black clutch. Her long hair was curled to cascade down her shoulders in waves, with red lips and dark eyeliner highlighting her facial features.

Fabiola instructed Ransom to pick her up at 8:00 PM at her apartment, and not a minute over. One thing she wanted to do was implement structure and consistency with Ransom. She desired to get him in the habit of being responsible and taking accountability. Fabiola figured that was the best place to start.

As Fabiola finished up getting ready, she heard her cellphone buzz. Thinking it was Ransom, she quickly reached for the device only to deflate. It wasn’t Ransom.

Jonathan: I need to see you. I can’t stop thinking about you, Fabiola. Please give me another chance.

Fabiola let out a frustrated groan when she read the message. Jonathan was her former boyfriend/submissive who appeared not to get the hint that things with them were over. The guy was too clingy for Fabiola to handle. He always wanted to be around her. He wanted more than what she was able to give him.

Fabiola: I can’t talk right now. I’m busy.

Jonathan: Please! I need you!

Fabiola: NO! I told you that what we had is over. Now stop contacting me!

With a sigh, Fabiola put her phone in her clutch. ‘If you don’t want him to contact you, then block his number,’ Fabiola’s inner voice scolded her.

It wasn’t like Fabiola hadn’t thought about it. However, there was a part of her that couldn’t do it. She liked Jonathan. He was special to her. And some part of Fabiola still felt responsible for him.

She took out her phone and brought up the message chain.

Fabiola: Jonathan, I’m sorry. Look, I really can’t talk right now. How about tomorrow?

‘You’re an enabler!’ her inner voice yelled.

Jonathan: Yes! Thank you! Talk to you tomorrow, sweetheart. 😊

Fabiola rolled her eyes.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to stew over Jonathan’s messages for too long when the doorbell rang. She looked at the time, which read eight o’clock. She opened the door, and there was Ransom dressed to perfection. He wore all black from his jacket, shirt, slacks, and shoes. Very casual but still sophisticated. Fabiola could only guess Ransom’s clothes’ cost, which she knew each piece had to have been from a top designer.

“Hi,” Fabiola greeted. “You’re right on time.”

“I figured you’d count it against me if I didn’t,” Ransom confessed. He looked Fabiola up and down. “You look outstanding.”

“Thank you. So do you,” Fabiola complimented and walked out of her apartment to lock it up.

Ransom offered Fabiola his arm, which she took, and walked her to his car. He would show that he could be a perfect gentleman since he was the one who recommended they go out for the night before returning to her place.

He wanted to relax but also show Fabiola a good time. Wining and dining women was one of Ransom’s specialties.

“So, where are we going?” Fabiola implored as she looked over at the man next to her.

“I figured I would take you to Yvonne’s. It’s a restaurant and bar. Nice atmosphere. Cool décor. You ever been?”

“No, never been,” she answered.

“I think you’ll like it.”

The remaining drive to the restaurant was quiet. It was as if neither knew what to bring up to start a conversation, which was not surprising. Ransom and Fabiola still didn’t know much about one another.

“How is your writing coming along since we last saw each other?” Fabiola probed as the quietness was getting to her. She figured asking Ransom about his writing was the safest conversation starter.

“Uh,” Ransom began as he steered his car through traffic. “It is…well, to be honest, I’m kind of stuck. I don’t know where to take the story next.”

Fabiola nodded in understanding. “Writer’s block. All too common. You know, some writers have shared with me how they combat writer’s block. You want to hear?”

“All ears.”

“Do you ever develop a list of favorite things your characters like, such as food, music, television shows, all that stuff? A writer told me they did that to help flesh out characters. That way, it helped to steer them where they needed to go within the story. Another writer told me that they would write one-shots where a character would do something different outside of the overall story. That way, you’re still getting your creative writing juices flowing instead of stewing and feeling bad about yourself for not writing,” Fabiola advised.

In all honesty, Ransom appreciated the advice. He was not used to kindness from another person who did not appear to want anything from him, at least not regarding his money or status. With Fabiola, he could tell that she was genuine with her advice offering.

After another fifteen minutes of mindless chitchat, Ransom pulled into a parking lot. He put the car in park and got out. Ransom hurried to the passenger door to help Fabiola out of the car, but she got out before he could open the door for her.

“I’m sorry,” Fabiola giggled. “I never know if a guy is going to do that or not. I’ll let you open the door for me next time.”

With a chuckle, Ransom offered his arm once again and guided his date to the restaurant. Ransom was not kidding when he said that Yvonne’s décor was “cool.” Heck, it was more than that; it was fabulous. For Fabiola, it looked like gothic Alice in Wonderland, with its bookcases, elegant chandeliers, and other abstract lighting and art along the walls. Fabiola mainly got a kick out of the numerous skulls outlining the front of the bar.

“This place is amazing,” she gushed to Ransom.

“I had a feeling you would,” he smiled at her. Ransom was happy he was able to do something right.

They were greeted by the hostess and then escorted to their reserved table.

“I’m so tempted to go up to those bookshelves and check out what they got,” Fabiola raved as she continued to take in her surroundings.

Ransom tried to hold back his smile as he watched Fabiola. She looked like a kid in a candy store. He couldn’t fathom how this beautiful before him was a domme when she had the sweetest and, at times, goofy disposition. Fabiola was just who she was, carefree. Or at least that is what she presented on the outside. He wondered if she had any skeletons in her closet.

He put down the wine/cocktail menu and leaned his arms on the table. “Tell me something, Ms. Rossi,” he began, “What makes you…tick?”

She quirked one of her perfectly tweezed eyebrows at Ransom, “What do you mean?”

“Like, what drives you crazy? What annoys you?”

“Oh, that is easy. The answer to that is stupid people. I have an extremely low tolerance to people who willingly choose to be ignorant,” she answered and grabbed the wine/cocktail menu. “What about you?”

“My family. They are the worst. You’d hate them for sure. But I won’t spoil the evening talking about them.”

“How about we order drinks,” Fabiola suggested as she continued to look at the drink menu. “Help us relax more, eh. What’s monkey shoulder?” she asked Ransom as she pointed to the drink that was called ‘Monkeys In A Pear Tree’ that had monkey shoulder, spiced pear, vanilla, almond, and orange bitters.

“It’s a blended malt scotch whiskey. It’s rather good. You should try it. Not with all that other shit in the drink, just the whiskey.”

“Yeah, I don’t need all that sugar. And I’m not a whiskey girl, unfortunately. I think I’ll go with a glass of wine,” Raina pointed out.

Ransom took the list back and perused the assortments of wine offerings. “How about I get us a bottle. Red or white?”

“Let’s go with red. You pick.”

Waving a waiter over, Ransom ordered a bottle of the red 2017 Syrah. It was a good wine. Not too sweet, but not too “woody” tasting as some would describe certain red wines. With their glasses filled, both opted to go for the shareable plate items—nothing too heavy, just enough to satisfy their stomachs.

While they waited, Fabiola scooted her chair closer to Ransom. They were seated at a corner table with dim lighting. No one would be able to see what Fabiola was about to do. She placed one of her manicured hands on his thigh. Fabiola began to move her hand up and down. As Fabiola trailed her hand higher up Ransom’s thigh, she watched his face for any reaction that she should stop. When she didn’t see any hesitation from him, she rested her hand against the bulge in his pants. Fabiola squeezed it, and Ransom almost jumped from his seat.

Ransom felt Fabiola begin to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper. He looked around the restaurant to make sure no one was looking over at their table. Fabiola let out a little chuckle.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked him.

He shook his head ‘no.’ “I need you to voice it, Baby Hughie,” Fabiola ordered him in a low voice while she continued to rub him out. He stirred in his seat as she slipped a hand under his briefs.

“Don’t stop,” Ransom managed to breathe out. His cock was almost rock hard.

Fabiola continued to stroke him. Back and forth. Nice and slow. Agonizingly slow. Ransom began to move his hips to try to increase the friction against his cock.

“Look at you. So needy. You want to cum, don’t you? Is that what you want? You want to cum in a public setting, Baby Hughie?” teased Fabiola as she leaned over and began to kiss Ransom from his neck to his ear. “I want to see how long I can tease you before you eventually beg me to let you cum.”

Even when the waiter brought their food (who was oblivious to what was going on under the table), Fabiola did not remove her hand from Ransom’s pants. She ate her food with her other hand while she continued to stroke his cock with the other. Sometimes Fabiola would bring her fork to Ransom’s mouth so he would eat when she noticed he was barely touching his food.

When Ransom felt a thumb rub his tip, he let out a low groan. “I need to cum,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

“I know you do, but I’m not going to allow it,” was all Fabiola said and continued to eat her food.

It was only when she was finished eating that she stopped stroking Ransom’s cock and removed her hand from his pants. She assisted in zipping and buckling Ransom back up to make sure he looked presentable. Fabiola stood up from the table. She handed Ransom one of the clean napkins. “Wipe the sweat from your forehead and drink some water. I’m going to go wash my hands.”

As Ransom watched Fabiola’s retreating form, he leaned back in his chair and let out a loud sigh. Reaching for his wine glass, he downed the contact in one gulp and poured himself another. Ransom squeezed his own junk as it was still hard. He began to think about other things to stifle the hardness. ‘Family reunions. Aunt Joni in a bathing suit. Grandma in a bathing suit.’ Ransom throughout in his head.

Unsurprisingly, they worked. His stiffened cock was beginning to recede. Gulping down another glass of wine, Ransom poured himself another. He didn’t quite know how to feel at that moment. He was unsatisfied with not being allowed to cum, but also intrigued with how turned he felt.

The feeling of not being in control was all-new for Ransom. At that moment, it was Fabiola who called the shots. She told him that he was not allowed to cum. He noticed the chastising tone in her voice when she ordered him to wipe off his sweat and drink water. Normally, Ransom would scoff at someone commanding to do things, but there was something incredibly erotic when Fabiola did it. He picked up his napkin and began to wipe off the sweat from his forehead. He drank his water and waited for the woman, who excited and astounded him, to return.

Unfortunately, Ransom’s euphoria came to a crashing halt when he heard, “Hey, son. What are you doing here?”

Ransom looked up to see his father, Richard Drysdale, standing before him. “What the Hell are you doing here?” Ransom retorted coldly.

Ignoring his son’s cold tone and icy glare, Richard took it upon himself to take a seat at the table. He began picking the food off of the plates and took Ransom’s glass of wine to sip for himself.

“You got a date?” Richard probed his son.

Ransom let out a frustrated groan. He needed to get out of here. “Is mom here as well, or are you with one of your side pieces?”

Before Richard could reply, Fabiola came back to the table. She was caught off guard by the new addition who was eating their food and drinking their wine. “Sorry I took so long. I got caught up talking to a woman who wanted to know where I purchased my shoes, then we got off tangent, and well…I’m back now. Who is this?”

“No one important,” Ransom replied.

Richard glared at his son but hid his animosity with a laugh. “He’s a kidder that one. Hi, I’m Richard Drysdale. Ransoms’ father,” he introduced himself. Richard stuck his hand out for Fabiola. Which she accepted with the hand that was previously stroking his son’s cock.

“Fabiola Rossi.”

“Well, aren’t you beautiful,” Richard complimented. Ransom noticed a look in his father’s eyes. He knew that look. It was the look Richard always had when he wanted a woman that was not his wife.

“Again, I ask, what are you doing here?” Ransom again asked his father.

Richard looked over at the bar with Ransom and Fabiola following suit. They saw Richard wave a young woman who waved back. “I’m here for a business dinner.”

“Bullshit.”

Ransom knew that his father was having an affair. Everyone in the family knew, except for Linda. But that was his mother. She would rather ignore the problems in her marriage and family while pretending everything is perfect.

“Look, son, I didn’t mean to crash your date. I just stopped by to say ‘hi,’ that is it,” Richard pointed out.

Ransom merely scoffed. “Okay. You said your ‘hi,’ now leave.”

“Actually, Ransom, I think we should start heading out,” Fabiola spoke up while looking around for their waiter.

“I didn’t mean to cut your evening short,” said Richard as he got up from the table. He stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before bidding adieu and going back to his “business dinner.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ransom was more than annoyed; he was fuming. He was ready to blow, and Fabiola could see it. She watched as Ransom pulled out a couple of hundred bills from his wallet and stood up. She stood up as well gathered her jacket and clutch. Following Ransom’s lead out of the restaurant, Fabiola was only a few steps behind him as they walked to the car. He stopped in front passenger door side and turned around. He watched as Fabiola put on her jacket. Her hair was lightly blowing in the night wind. His father was right; she was beautiful.

Moving towards Fabiola, Ransom ran his hands up and down her arms to help warm her up. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, indicating what happened in the restaurant with his father. “My dad…he isn’t someone I…”

“It’s fine, Ransom. Let’s not have him ruin the rest of our night. You still want to come over, right?”

Ransom leaned his forehead against Fabiola’s before pressing his lips against hers. He didn’t deepen the kiss and retreated after only a couple of seconds. Ransom went back to resting his forehead against Fabiola’s while she stroked his left cheek.

“Tell me what you want?” she asked him.

Ransom looked into her eyes like he was searching for something. He sighed at what felt like the hundredth time that night. “I don’t know what I want. That is the problem. All I do know is that I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to be my dad.”

Fabiola nodded her head in understanding. “Don’t then.”

#chris evans #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x ofc #ransom drysdale x oc #knives out fic

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jenmedsbookreviews · 7 years

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So. Funny old week. Started off in a rather unspectacular fashion. Went to work. Did work type stuff. Got bored. Rinse and repeat on Tuesday. Well, Health and Safety meeting on Tuesday so I was mainly depressed by lunchtime, but still relatively uneventful. Flying visit to Dublin on Wednesday (literal as it’s a long walk from my house) in which I managed to set the Irish budget (mostly). Go me. On the plus side I got a lot of reading in at the airports and on the plane so it wasn’t all bad.

Thursday… what to say about Thursday? Well, first up, I was only in work for half a day which is always nice. I had the afternoon booked off to attend the book launch of Lloyd Otis’s debut novel, Dead Lands. Great book which I’ll be reviewing very soon and which, coincidentally, I was actually reading on my way to London. Arriving in London, me and my sister decided to treat ourselves to some wonderful Danish pastries at Ole & Steen on Haymarket. If you like Danish pastry (and I mean the real deal not the soggy stuff you find festering in the cake department fo supermarkets) then you could do worse than visit this place. I’m not being paid to say this, not at all. I just happen to think their food is lush and very reasonably priced for a central London Cafe/Restaurant.

So, one lovely toastie and cake fest later, Mandie and are are headed to the nearby (overpriced) giant sweet shop so that she can buy her friend a stick of pink rock. It’s a thing… Don’t ask. While I’m loitering in the entrance trying not to get enraged by the prices they are charging (£10 for a box of Oreo cookies!!!) I decide to check my emails. Oh my giddy Aunts. I won’t lie. I know I must have looked like a complete div. I know this as while I was reading one particular email I was stood staring out at Piccadilly Circus literally opened mouthed in shock, waiting for Mandie to join me and check that I wasn’t actually seeing things. Please note – I am getting very old and I wasn’t wearing my glasses so I could quite honestly have been reading anything. But no. I wasn’t seeing things. What I was reading was real.

I had received an e-mail from The Writer Awards, telling me that I had been named as one of the top nominated book blogs. Apparently they had been seeking nominations and from 1000+ recommendations, my little old blog had been selected as one of the best. Now, being honest, and being blind, I hadn’t read the whole email and I am always cautious about selecting links in emails as you never know if it’s a virus. I’d seen mention of top 33 so I figured number 30 wouldn’t be bad, but being the sceptical soul that I am, I googled The Writer Awards rather than followed the link. Sure enough a site showed up a the top of Google and I clicked through to find the Blogger Awards near the top of teh site. As I started clicking through the list, I really expected to be scrolling through for hours. Imagine my surprise when at No.10 I found Jen Med’s Book Reviews. No. 10!!!

I double checked the e-mail and sure enough there it was. Ranked no. 10. Of 1000+ blogs. And why – well apparently this little weekly mind melt is one of the reasons. Who knew. I thought it was just a good way to fill a gap in my blogging diary 😀

For those of you reading this on a phone, what this says is

This blog nicely weaves in the author’s own adventures through weekly recaps. It’s like you’re following a bookish journey from book tours to recaps to the reviews themselves. The creator’s personality really shines through!

Now personally I believe that they missed the word disorder out of the above statement but let’s look at the facts: Weekly adventures from book tours (Dead Lands – check), recaps (look below – check) and the reviews themselves (see the bottom of the post for links to all of last weeks posts – check). Well. Yep. That’s me then.

All joking aside, I am still rather stunned to have received the email. I’ve only been blogging for around 15/16 months, and in all honesty, only really been pushing myself to take it seriously since last November (a post a day for months now excluding Christmas) so this is absolutely amazing. Whoever it was that nominated me, thank you. It really means a lot. I knew nothing about this, can’t really understand how I got here, but at least I know that all of my hard work (well reading and occasional rambling) does mean something. I often feel that although I have a bias towards crime fiction, my blog is neither one thing or another, and so it feels like it’s harder to build a following that it might be for a dedicated crime fiction or Sci-fi/fantasy focused blog for example. And anyone who knows me will testify that being recognised for my ‘personality’ has seldom been a good thing in the past. 😉 So, for a gal without a gimmick I’m feeling kind of proud.

Enough of the fluffiness… Back to Thursday night. What an evening. So great to see Lloyd again and to be able to help him celebrate his success. I have no doubt that Dead Lands is going to do really well and that he has an amazing future in front of him. I first met Lloyd at Crimefest which seems forever ago now – long I’m sure for Lloyd – but it is so good to be able to support him on his journey, even if it’s just by way of a review. Good luck, Lloyd.

So. Back to my week. Friday was all work. Boo hiss… Any way. Moving on.

Book post wise – well Monday saw my last Mr Men Christmas book arrive so I am all set for Christmas month on the blog. Sort of. And, you know how Thursday was a pretty awesome kind of a day? Well what I didn’t mention is that when I popped home at lunch before catching my train I was greeted by the Post Man bringing me a parcel. A bookish parcel. A very exciting bookish parcel. It was only Now We Are Dead by Stuart MacBride which I’ll be reviewing for First Monday Crime in November. Stuart will be appearing alongside authors Vaseem Khan, Simon Booker and Elodie Harper, with the panel charied by Barry Forshaw. I was lucky enough to attend October’s panel and I’m sure as heck going back for the next one. Maybe I’ll see you there.

Book purchase wise – well aside from the signed copy of Dead Lands (whoop whoop), I’ve been a very good girl. I only bought 4 books. Just 4. 2 preorders, Helen Phifer’s Dying Breath and Susi Holliday’s The Deaths of December, and two books recommended in Ann Girdharry’s recent Book Love post as they sounded right up my street, LaRose by Louise Errdich and Red Blood, Yellow Skin by Linda L.T. Baer.

Netgalley saw me downloading two titles again, both for blog tours. First up Stephen Edger’s Dying Day and also Kierney Scott’s Now You See Me. I also received an ARC of Jennifer Gilmour’s new book (more on that tomorrow).

And aside from some teeny tiny audible purchases, namely Elly Griffiths’ The Chalk Pit, Val McDermid’s Insidious Intent and B.A. Paris’s Behind Closed DoorsBehind Closed Doors that is absolutely it.

B.Reading wise, I read just the four books this week. Been busy and in schock 😉

Books I have read

Zenka by Alison Brodie

Devious, ruthless, and loyal.

Zenka is a capricious Hungarian with a dark past.

When cranky London mob boss, Jack Murray, saves her life she vows to become his guardian angel – whether he likes it or not. Happily, she now has easy access to pistols, knives and shotguns.

Jack discovers he has a son, Nicholas, a male nurse with a heart of gold. Problem is, Nicholas is a wimp.

Zenka takes charges. Using her feminine wiles and gangland contacts, she will make Nicholas into the sort of son any self-respecting crime boss would be proud of. And she succeeds!

Nicholas transforms from pussycat to mad dog, falls in love with Zenka, and finds out where the bodies are buried – because he buries them. He’s learning fast that sometimes you have to kill, or be killed.

As his life becomes more terrifying, questions have to be asked:

How do you tell a mob boss you don’t want to be his son?

And is Zenka really who she says she is?

I read Alison’s last book, Brake Failure last year and really enjoyed the blend of humour and action. Based around an East End crime boss who is trying to get to know his son for the first time, this book is packed full of laughs, action and the odd body dump. It had me chuckling all the way through at the series of mishaps and misunderstandings. And god help Olga!!! You can see my review next week and in the meantime you can order the book here.

…

Dead Lands by Lloyd Otis

The stunning debut from thriller writer Lloyd Otis.

When a woman’s body is found a special team is called in to investigate and prime suspect Alex Troy is arrested for the murder. Desperate to remain a free man, Troy protests his innocence, but refuses to use his alibi. Trying to protect the woman he loves becomes a dangerous game – questions are asked and suspicions deepen.

When the prime suspect completes a daring escape from custody, DI Breck and DS Kearns begin the hunt. Breck wants out of the force while Kearns has her own agenda and seeks revenge – and a right-wing march provides an explosive backdrop to their hunt for Troy.

Lloyd Otis brings a startling account of the past back to life over a burgeoning ’70s landscape, and delivers a thrilling piece of crime fiction that will excite any fan of the genre.

What a debut. Full of suspicion, tension there is a ruthless and brutal killer on the loose but is he the man the police suspect? Set in 1970’s London I loved the freedom that this brings to the narrative as well as adding to the tension as you know that the police cannot rely on the forensics to get their man. So will justice prevail? Well – read for yourself to find out. I have and I’ll be reviewing in a little over a week for the blog tour. However, the book is available now and you can bag a copy here.

…

A Cosy Candlelit Christmas by Tilly Tennant

All singleton Isla wants for Christmas is to be left in peace, but a surprise trip to the Alps means there’s a chance for romance in every snowflake that falls…

It’s the week before Christmas and Isla McCoy has just received an unexpected gift: a letter announcing she is due a life-changing inheritance, but only if she’s willing to make amends with the father who abandoned her.

She has absolutely no intention of forgiving him, but who could resist an all-expenses-paid trip to the French resort of St Martin-de-Belleville?

There she meets smooth-talking Justin and nerdy glaciologist Sebastian; two very different men, with two very different agendas. Torn between her head and her heart, Isla finds herself utterly lost in a winter wonderland of her own feelings.

Surrounded by twinkling candles and roaring log-fires, Isla’s resolve finally begins to melt. But will she learn how to reconnect, not only with a whole new family, but with herself and her heart?

A gorgeously heart-warming festive read to help spark a little romance in those long winter nights. Perfect for fans of Jane Linfoot, Debbie Johnson and Jenny Colgan.

The difficult situation of meeting her estranged father is what greets Isla this Christmas. But maybe that’s not all. In an idyllic ski-resort setting, with crisp white snow and beautiful scenery all around, could love also be on the cards. Released on 26th October, I’ll be spilling the beans on this book really soon, in the meantime you can order a copy right here.

…

The Lost Child by Patricia Gibney

They placed me in here and threw away the key. I look down at the gown they’ve put on me. I want my own clothes. I don’t know how long I’ve been here.

An elderly woman is found murdered in her own home, and Detective Lottie Parker and her partner Detective Boyd are called in to investigate. When they discover that the victim’s daughter is missing as well, they start to fear for the safety of the whole family…

Two days later as a nearby house is set on fire and with the body count rising, Lottie and her team begin to unpick a web of secrets and lies, as the murders seem to link back to a case investigated by Lottie’s father before he took his own life.

With little knowledge of what really happened to her father, Lottie knows this is a case that could give her some answers. But how much does she want to know? And how far is Lottie prepared to dig to uncover the truth?

The Lost Child is a thrilling page-turner from the bestselling author of The Missing Ones and The Stolen Girls that will have you guessing right to the very last page. Perfect for fans of Rachel Abbott, Angela Marsons and Robert Dugoni.

Book three in the Lottie Parker series sees our troubled Irish Detective investigating a murder and brutal attack which could well have links back to her own father. With her personal life as complicated as ever, can Lottie keep her head clear enough to get to the truth? You can find out when the book is released on 27th October if you preorder the book right here.

…

I’ll take that as I’ve been busy this week. Blogging wise, another really full on week of reviews and book love which you can follow right here.

The Unexpected Inheritance of Inspector Chopra

#BookLove: Anne Williams

Snowflakes, Iced Cakes and Second Chances

#BookLove: Ann Girdharry

Cover Reveal: Conrad Jones

Press Release: Heywood Hill Competition

Her Last Secret by Barbara Copperthwaite

The Fallen Agent by Oliver Tidy

Snare by Lilja Sigurdardottir

The week ahead is just as busy with a mammoth number of blog tours. First up today is Zoe Sharp’s Fox Hunter; on Wednesday is The Second Son by Andy Blackman, Thursday is Lily Graham’s Christmas At Hope Cottage and Friday is Sharon Maas’ The Girl From The Sugar Plantation. I’ll also have book love posts from Joanne Robertson of My Chestnut Reading Tree and Meggy Roussel of Chocolate’n’Waffles and my second Inspector Chopra review. Busy, busy, busy – just how I like it.

Adventure wise – well nothing bookish but I’ve got to travel to Manchester and Edinburgh this week to deliver some project training so who know what I’ll listen to along the way.

Have a fabulous week of bookishness all.

JL (award winning book bloggist )

Rewind, recap: Weekly update w/e 15/10/17 So. Funny old week. Started off in a rather unspectacular fashion. Went to work. Did work type stuff.

#Rewind Recap #Weekly Round UP

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