Monday, 6 July 2020

New Book Release Spotlight with an Extract: The Rebel Heiress and the Knight by Melissa Oliver



The Rebel Heiress and the Knight by Melissa Oliver

She must marry the knight

By order of the king!

Widow Eleanor of Tallany Castle knows her people are broken by the taxes demanded by King John. So when she’s ordered to marry Hugh de Villiers, a knight loyal to the king, she’s furious—even if he is handsome! As gallant Hugh begins to heal the scars of Eleanor’s abusive first marriage, she’s even more determined to keep her secret: she is the outlaw the king wants to send to the gallows!

The extract below is from a scene a day before Hugh de Villiers and Eleanor Tallany’s imposed marriage. Here they’ve gone riding in the hope of getting to know each other a little better despite their feelings of frustration.

Bitterness, anger and fear coursed through her. She resented this. These feelings that she had thought to have buried long ago. And she resented being made to marry once again against her wishes, to another handsome, young knight who thought far too much of himself.
‘Would you see it beneath yourself to take a challenge, Sir Hugh? This would be in the hope that you may change your mind regarding the limited constraints of being only a woman.’ She held her head high not daring to look at him.
‘You are not in shackles, Eleanor.’ He flashed his lazy, lopsided smile that made him more absurdly attractive.
‘Is that so?’ She inhaled sharply, trying to hang onto her temper.
‘What is this challenge you wish to propose?’
Eleanor knew that she shouldn’t allow herself to rise to whatever scheme this man was devising but it wasn’t easy. She should, instead turn the conversation back to gaining any useful information Hugh de Villiers had about her outlaw friends which would serve them better. Not that that topic of conversation was any safer. Still, she could steer it in the way she wanted whilst not risking losing her temper.
She turned her gaze to the gently rolling hills before her. Beautiful, she thought, wistfully. She had grown up here and knew every blade of grass and branch of tree. These were her lands, her ancestral lands, which would soon belong to him. As would she…
‘Well, my lady?’
‘A race to the third oak tree, over there, you can see it in the distance.’
‘I do see but… a race? On horseback? With you?’ He smiled slowly, raising a brow. She continued to stare out in the distance with what she hoped was her steely gaze and did not even bother to look at him. With the answer given, he made her even angrier, if that was possible, when he chuckled in response. He was laughing at her again?
‘Perhaps you are scared to be bettered by someone like me?’ she said. ‘Well?’
‘You’re not serious, my lady?’
‘Deadly so.’
‘Hardly a fair contest, Eleanor? Come, let’s forget all of this.’ He spoke so gently that it vexed her all the more.
‘Do you accept or not?’ She scowled, finding it hard to remain composed.
‘Very well if you insist but let it be noted that I did warn you. I hope you will
not be too disappointed when I win.’
‘We will see, Sir Hugh, we will see. Quickest to the oak I mentioned, by any means.’
‘Then call it, my lady.’ He brought his destrier round beside her palfrey, towering over it and grinned at Eleanor, taking her hand in his and pressing it lightly. She snatched it back.
‘Now!’ Eleanor pushed forward, galloping away to get a fast start before realising that he had held back, allowing her to get ahead.
His laughter roared behind her as she sped out in front. Of all the confounding, patronising and infuriating males!


Amazon UK           Amazon US 

 Growing up in Richmond- Upon-Thames, Melissa Oliver used to walk past the old Mills and Boon offices as a teen, and wistfully sigh that one day her dream of writing for them will come true. Amazingly, after all these years, it finally has...& now she can bring all those stories out onto the pages of her books. Melissa lives in south-west London with her gorgeous husband and equally gorgeous daughters, who share her passion for castles, palaces and all things historical.

Twitter- @melissaoauthor 



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Friday, 3 July 2020

New Release Spotlight & Exclusive Extract: Fresh Eggs and Dog Beds 2 by Nick Albert



Fresh Eggs and Dog Beds 2 – Still living the dream in rural Ireland by Nick Albert


 An exclusive extract from Fresh Eggs and Dog Beds 2, written by bestselling author Nick Albert and published by Ant Press.

Although Nick and Lesley Albert moved to Ireland on a whim, their desire for a better life in the countryside was a long-held dream. Unforeseen events and a leap of faith forced that dream into reality, but getting to Ireland was only the beginning of their story.
Now foreigners in a foreign land, they set about making new friends, learning the culture and expanding their collection of chickens and unruly dogs. But their dream home was in desperate need of renovation, a mammoth task they attacked with the aid of a DIY manual, dwindling funds and incompetent enthusiasm. With defunct diggers, collapsing ladders, and shocking electrics, what could possibly go wrong?

In this scene, Nick is trying to get the renovations underway, but quirky Irish ways are making things complicated.

Given we were about to begin a major renovation project, whilst working with a limited budget, I thought it would be prudent to find a good supplier. I did some research, but came up empty handed. Aside from a few firms in Dublin, the internet claimed that there were no builders merchants in Counties Clare, Galway, or Limerick. The Golden Pages business directory listed most firms by name, rather than by business type and the familiar British retail chains had not reached the west of Ireland. If you didn’t know the business name, you were stuffed. I had spotted a lorry delivering to a new build development, but when I asked the driver how I could go about ordering my building supplies, he told me their business was strictly ‘Trade Only’.
Our saviour lay behind the door of a nondescript shop in a local village. It was the same place where Paul had bought a hydraulic pipe. As well as selling pots, pans, batteries, clocks, shoes, sports equipment, and wheelbarrows, they were also a builder’s merchant and tractor repair shop. Even though I was not a ‘proper builder’, the nice young girl behind the work-wearied counter was happy to take my order and even promised me free delivery for the duration of the renovations. It felt good to put some money into the local area. However, when the first lorry load of building materials arrived, the driver had not been given an invoice and refused to take a cash payment.
“I’m sorry,” he shrugged. “I don’t have anything to do with invoices.”
“But this lot’s worth several hundred euro!” I exclaimed. “You haven’t even got a delivery note.”
“No, I’ve got a delivery note,” he replied, showing me some writing on the palm of his hand, “but you’ll have to see the shop about payment.”
“Right!” I replied. “I’ll get my car.”
“I shouldn’t bother,” he said, putting a calming hand on my shoulder. “They’re shut for the day. Anyway, I’m sure there’s no rush. Just pop in next time you’re passing.”
And he was right.
Even though we had never before met, it transpired the girl in the hardware store had automatically opened an account and extended us a substantial line of credit. Although Lesley and I were gradually learning the Irish ways, we had brought one unbreakable rule into our new lives – no credit, ever again. The young girl in the hardware store seemed a little baffled when I settled our invoice with cash and then insisted on paying for all of our future purchases before delivery, but she accepted anyway. Perhaps she was getting used to our strange British ways.
A few days later, a similar thing happened. Lesley arrived home from a shopping trip to Ennis and immediately crossed the lawn to where I was laying concrete blocks for the pump house walls. Earlier I had given up trying to master the bricklayer’s trowel in favour of wearing bright yellow washing-up gloves and applying the mortar by hand.
Lesley watched me for a while, before she spoke. “Interesting technique.” She smiled encouragingly.
“It works,” I replied. “Perhaps I should patent it.”
Unimpressed, she humphed quietly and then changed the subject.
“I’ve been thinking,” my wife said brightly.
A cold shiver went down my spine, ran across the floor and hid in the corner quivering. I sensed she wanted to tell me something and I could see no obvious means of escape.
“Go on then, what have you been thinking?”
“Rugs!” she said triumphantly.
“Oh jolly well done!” I teased. “What are we having for dinner?”
She ignored my caustic wit. “I think we need rugs, for the sitting room floor.”
“We do?” I asked, picturing the constant snow of woodworm dust and dead spiders that coated the floor daily. “Won’t they just get dirty?”
She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, “Not for now! For afterwards – when the work is finished.”
Sensing at least a temporary reprieve, I relaxed. “Oh. You mean for later. Well that’s alright then.”
She spoke quietly, whilst carefully inspecting a fingernail. “Only we need them now – because they were on sale.”
I eyed her suspiciously. “Were on sale? What did you buy?”
“I didn’t buy anything, yet. I was at a shop in Ennis and they had these Persian rugs. They’re beautiful and they were practically giving them away.”
“Okay, fine,” I conceded. “The next time we’re in Ennis, we can go and have a look.”
“No need!” she said jubilantly. “They’re in the car. All six of them.”
“SIX?” I squealed.
Lesley nodded and smiled.
“But you said you didn’t buy them,” I whined.
“I didn’t.”
“I suppose they just gave them to you?” I suggested mockingly. “Without asking you for a deposit or anything?”
“Actually they did,” she said with a big smile. “Come and see.”
It was true. Lesley had arrived home with several thousand euros’ worth of fine Persian rugs in the back of her car. The staff in the shop were so keen for her to buy, they had insisted she take them home – just to try them for size.
“It’s incredible,” she exclaimed. “They didn’t ask for any deposit, or credit card details or identification. They didn’t even bother to take a note of my name.”
“Good grief!” I exclaimed. “The level of trust here is just wonderful.”
“I think it’s nice,” Lesley sighed.
I agreed. It was nice, and further evidence of how delightfully innocent and crime free County Clare was. Overall, it seemed that our lessons in ‘Learning to be Irish’ were going rather well.


Nick and Lesley's desire for a better life in the countryside was a long-held dream. Unforeseen events and a leap of faith forced that dream into reality, but moving to rural Ireland was only the beginning of their story.
Foreigners in a foreign land, they set about making new friends, learning the culture and expanding their collection of chickens and unruly dogs. But their dream home was in desperate need of renovation, a mammoth task they attacked with the aid of a DIY manual, dwindling funds and incompetent enthusiasm. With defunct diggers, collapsing ladders, and shocking electrics, what could possibly go wrong?
Will their new life live up to expectations, or will the Irish weather, dangerous roads, and a cruel twist of fate turn this dream into a nightmare?

Amazon UK
Amazon USA


Nick Albert was born in England and raised in a Royal Air Force family. After leaving College he worked in retail management for several years before moving into financial services where he quickly progressed through the ranks to become a training consultant. As a very passionate and reasonably talented sportsman, Nick had always wanted to use his training skills towards creating a parallel career, so in the mid 1980's he qualified and began coaching sport professionally. After a health scare in 2003 and in search of a simpler life, he and his wife Lesley, cashed in their investments, sold their home and bought a rundown farmhouse in the rural west of Ireland - a country they had never before even visited. With little money or experience and armed only with a do-it-yourself manual, they set about renovating their new home, where they now live happily alongside a flock of chickens, two ducks and several unruly, but delightful dogs.
In 2017 Nick was signed to Ant Press to write a series of humorous memoirs about his life in rural Ireland. Fresh Eggs and Dog Beds (book one) was published in September 2017 and soon became an Amazon bestseller. Book two in the series was published on 1st June 2018 and book 3 in August 2019. Book four is due out in 2020.
Nick is also the author of the twisty thriller, Wrecking Crew, the first in a series of books featuring reluctant hero Eric Stone.



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