The Diamond Cross is a sweeping historical romance/saga that exemplifies love, hope, fortitude and personal triumph in a spectacular, hedonistic era. Siblings János and Eva Imre emigrate from Budapest to New York in 1873 in pursuit of elusive Bart Karolyi, a wolf in sheep’s clothing who has stolen Eva’s heart, her virginity and the entire Imre family’s savings. János and pregnant Eva face incredible odds after being processed through Castle Garden–the gateway to America. Will the family heirloom, a fabulously stunning diamond cross, help sustain them and guarantee a future for Eva’s bastard child? Or will it prove to be their undoing? Can Janós rise above adversity to gain revenge on the man who destroyed the simplicity and sanity of their lives?
Even in the midst of personal chaos, hope shines through as Janós and his son Brenton discover the presence of a striking thirteen year old girl in the lobby of their hotel in Saratoga Springs. Who is this young beauty and why was she abandoned upon their doorstep? Does she have the power to rearrange their lives, to forever imprint herself upon them? Heather Hatfield captures the hearts of the Imre men folk, maturing into a breathtaking young woman with a keen business sense. Neither János nor Brenton can get enough of her. But whose heart does she hold dear? Can she love both father and son equally? Is her presence in their lives a good thing, or will it destroy them?
Heather sang while bathing later that morning. She was still singing when she appeared in the lobby dressed in lilac and smelling of it, too. János spent the night in his office and looked weary, but she didn’t notice as she danced around the lobby, greeting the guests with a cheerful, “Good morning. Nice day, isn’t it?”
She was on her way to see Artemus when she heard Brenton’s voice coming from a room next to János’ office. It was a smaller office and Brenton was using it as his own until a larger one could be outfitted for his needs. Heather knocked once. Without waiting, she opened the door. What she saw curdled her blood. Veronica Farmingdale and Brenton sat face to face across a wide table and there were what looked like wedding invitations strewn upon it. Veronica had just addressed a white parchment envelope when Heather barged in.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Veronica said.
Brenton looked like Veronica’s cat had gotten the best of him as he said, “Hello, Heather.”
“Hello?” Heather mouthed in astonishment. “What’s going on here, Brenton?”
“We’re writing wedding invites,” Veronica said snottily. “I don’t believe I saw your name on our list.”
Heather grimaced. “Brenton, may I see you alone for a moment?”
Brenton’s brows furrowed, but he stood and followed her into the hallway. She led him inside the now empty dining room and stood looking at him for a long moment. When he said nothing, she tapped the toe of her shoe on the floor and said, “I believe an explanation’s in order.”
“Veronica picked our wedding date. It’ll be just before Christmas. We were just…”
“Addressing the invitations. I know. Brenton, after last night…”
“Last night was special, but it doesn’t change anything,” he said softly. “I’m still marrying Veronica.”
Heather’s heart went limp and she fought back tears of hurt and outrage. “How can you say that? How can you do that? You told me you loved me, Brenton.”
“I do,” he said sadly. “But Veronica’s good marriage material. I need to marry into money the way my father did. A match between Veronica and myself would cement our families and be a good investment for the Meredith Arms. With my education and her money, we could build this hotel into a palace and her father could help us secure even more properties.”
“That’s it?” she said incredulously. “A business investment? She’s marriage material and I’m not?” Heather felt herself fill with rage.
“We can still be friends,” he said. “We’ll see each other every day and…”
Heather slapped him, a swift palm slap to the side of his mouth which resounded in the otherwise quiet room and bounced off the walls. “You’re a bastard,” she shouted. “Go to hell.” She turned on her heels and stormed out of the room.
I’m excited to tell you about my latest Rebel Ink Press release:
It’s entitled Love’s Sweet Vengeance and it’s about a lady sheriff and a sexy male bounty hunter in the days of the Old West in 1866. It’s in ebook format and print copy and available from Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and All Romance e-books. Print copy is only available from Amazon.com.
The Old West in 1866 spells romance and danger. Pair a smart and independent lady sheriff in New Mexico Territory with a virile bounty hunter and you get sizzling chemistry, even though they’re at odds with each other and their objectives.
Garrett Wade and Amanda Larson form a truce to work together to track down Clem Jones, the outlaw responsible for Garrett’s wife’s murder. But will the justice they’re after consist of Amanda’s way or Garrett’s? Amanda, a lawman first and foremost, wants to bring Jones in for a fair trial, but Garrett wants only revenge–to put a bullet between the wretched outlaw’s eyes.
Their quest leads them into mortal danger, while a powerful lust brings them together in ways neither bargained for. Can they survive the peril, exact justice, endure a gut-wrenching separation, and still nurture their lust into an abiding love?
Through the trees a gray wolf appeared, its fangs dripping with saliva. The wolf saw Amanda the same time she saw it. She leveled the gun in her hand and was about to release a warning shot to scare away the wolf.
“Fire that gun and you’ll alert Clem Jones you’re on his tail.”
She turned quickly to her left where a man in black attire sat atop a handsome stallion. On his head was a ten gallon hat with ties beneath his chin. She recognized the face as that of Garrett Wade.
“How’d you get out of jail?” she asked.
He removed his hat and flung it deftly in the wolf’s direction, sending the animal scurrying back into the woods. Garrett dismounted and retrieved his hat. Dusting it off on the side of his leg, he crossed to where Amanda was standing.
“Your deputy’s a good man, Sheriff,” he said. “We had a little chat. I explained to him if he let me go, I’d look out for you and make sure no harm came to you. He said he promised your pa he’d take care of you. He admitted he didn’t like you riding out alone after that sonofabitch Jones.”
“John let you go?” she said, her pretty blue eyes wide as saucers.
“Sometimes it takes a man like him and not a boy like you to know what’s right and what’s wrong. He shares the same code of honor as I do.”
She frowned. Had she heard him correctly? He thought she was a boy? “A boy?” she said incredulously. “Are you calling me a boy?” Her scowl showed her irritation.
“No offense. You look kinda young to be a man.”
“You are a fool, Mister Wade. I’m not a boy. I’m a woman. ”
Even in the waning light she could see his startled expression and it pleased her. The idiot couldn’t tell a woman from a boy.
He looked her over as if seeing her for the first time then a slow smile spread across his face. He laughed. “Well, I’ll be damned. A woman sheriff? What won’t they think of next?”
If you leave a comment (include your name and email address) you’ll be entered into my giveaway of a free ebook copy of Love’s Sweet Vengeance. Thanks for stopping by and visiting my page. If you’d like to read my blog, go to http://www.joannecberroa.blogspot.com.
Here’s a wonderful book of recipes and more from Rebel Ink Press authors, including yours truly, coming out April 17th in ebook format as well as print. In the words of Rebel Ink Press:
Through the ages food has been seen as a way to commune with others, bringing fellowship to the table while nourishing the body. Food is key in celebration and in honoring. It’s also been commonly widespread everything from asparagus to honey to chocolate and oysters hold aphrodisiacal properties. But we at Rebel Ink Press believe not only is food nourishment for the body and fuel for romance, cooking is one of the sexiest and most nurturing things one can do for another.
It’s the way to the heart.
Rebel Ink Press presents The Way to the Heart, a collection of recipes from twenty-six Rebel writers, our charitable project for 2013. For every copy sold a charitable donation will be made to help nurture families and communities around the world through Heifer International.
PLEASE READ THE RECIPE ON PAGE 13 AS IT IS FROM YOURS TRULY!!!!
AND THANK YOU.
“My Life, My Heart” — a time travel romance with a “twist.” Available now for purchase.
“On Angels’ Wings” — a romance taking place during World War II. Available now for purchase.
“Love’s Sweet Vengeance” — love and danger in the Old West in 1866. Available now for purchase.
Please read my page for more information and purchase links.
See above tab in header for purchase links to buy these novels.
People have asked me how do I pick a location and/or time period for a new story? Well, that’s the fun part! I do my best thinking lying in bed just before falling asleep. Often my head is so full of ideas and thoughts I never fall asleep! Basically, I think of a time and place I would have liked to live, such as Medieval Times in England. Or back in biblical times. The characters come easily once I know where and when I’d like to write about because the characters are born from the era. If I’m writing about a war, it stands to reason one of my main characters will a soldier. I’ve written two novels with military heroes, My Life, My Heart and On Angels’ Wings.
Then I keep a file with new ideas and a working synopsis of each idea for future projects. If I’m in bed when I devise a plot, I get up and write it down so as not to forget it by the next morning. Many ideas for novels have come to me that way.
Picking a location is half the fun of writing. It allows me to live vicariously through my characters and my plots. It’s like living a multitude of life times! The writer’s life is great!
I’ve often read about truly inspired authors, but I never dreamed I’d be one of them. I’ve been writing all my life (and that’s more than a few years), and have had my ups and downs along the way. Times when words didn’t come easily, writer’s block, you name it. But when it came to writing My Life, My Heart, I became one of those “inspired” authors. Not only did it flow as if someone was over my shoulder giving me the words to write, it flowed fast and furiously. I do believe the person looking over my shoulder and guiding my hand was my late husband, who was a multi-published author and died suddenly in a car accident. I never had closure, so in my novel I emphasize the importance of closure, and of love everlasting. It’s nice to know someone on the other side is looking out for me!