The Romance Reviews

The Romance Reviews

Sunday, 22 December 2013

Crazy, Crazy Nights




This is my last story of 2013! It's quite fitting actually. Since it encompasses several things - faith, belief, the end of one thing and the glorious beginning of another. Neiri is a divorcee who has lost her faith and Roshan Ahsani is the perfect man to help her rebuild it. At the time of the year when one really shouldn't be alone with one's maudlin thoughts of all one's failures. It was a delight to research, to write, to be a little... okay a LOT naughty with.

Enjoy and Merry Flipping Christmas to you all!

http://www.sharaazod.com/ebook/nights-roshan.html

Le Blurb

Neiri Halabi is a Christmas enthusiast and a cat allergist. She just wants to survive her first Christmas alone; with shop bought treats, her basement swimming pool and certainly without swallowing random cat hairs in said pool. Given there's only one other resident in the entire apartment building, it has to be Roshan Ahsani up to no good. While the extravagant building owner may be have a whale of a time keeping large pets and letting them share her space, Neiri isn't about to put up with it. She's going to turn spy and catch Roshan Ahsani at his own game. Shame she doesn't know that tigers are much better hunters...

Le Excerpt

She pressed her hands to her forehead. If she pressed a little harder, this could possibly be not taking place or Roshan would just point to a tiger in a cage and shout fooled ya! No such luck. “I let my grandmother get carried away. She even cursed my ex-husband with no testicles and that didn’t work.”
“Are you sure about that?”
It gave her pause. “The point is, it’s all superstitious, properly ancient madness that I didn’t mean. I didn’t mean to have any of this, least of all for me to be swallowing your moulting fur.”
“I do not moult,” he growled. “I came here because I was called. We have good hearing.”
“Really?”
“Better,” he corrected, adjusting the crease of his trousers with a flick. “It’s been a long time since anyone has called for our protection in that manner. So here I am.”
“That’s why you bought this place? Because my grandmother prayed?”
“Because you did,” he said softly. “Never heard of that? The grain of faith of a non believer being stronger than a whole field of wheat.”
Her grandmother had told her the prayers would only work if she truly believed in them. And in those desperately lonely moments, she wanted someone to come and make it all stop. Make it better. With her hands tight around her grandmother’s as the incense had burned before one of the many statues belonging to her family, she had the briefest vision of a cat padding towards her, growing in volume with each light jog, until it was as big as a man. It had touched her head with an enormous paw and vanished in a puff of smoke. Neiri’s grandmother asked her if she’d seen anything and she flat denied it. Instead, she’d gone to her GP for medication, saying the stress of the divorce was making her hallucinate. Oops.
She warmed her hands on the teacup, watching him for any sudden movements. “And you made Adil change his mind about the settlement?”
Roshan’s face flickered slightly, like a boy working out how to tell his parents he’d done something naughty. “I made him a decent offer which he accepted. It means you’re free.”
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “To owe you.”
“To do me a favour in return.”
Neiri closed a fist around the lapels of her robe. “I can’t give you anything.”
Roshan leaned back and glanced out the huge windows that lined the entire apartment. “Did your grandmother teach you the fertility ritual?”
She made a face of confusion. “Now you’re just making things weird.”
“I assume she would have, since you married.”
“It didn’t work.” She halted and waited until the bitterness wasn’t so sharp at the back of her throat. “It’s a fad.”
“But you know what to do.”
It was something she’d tried a thousand times before. She knew it better than her own name. “It really should be done in autumn.”
“Accounted for.”
“And you can only really do it on a full moon.”
“Indeed. Which is tomorrow.”
Checkmate. She tapped the side of her teacup. “So what, I do this ritual and what… We’re quits?”
Roshan nodded his head. “Absolutely.”
She didn’t quite believe him. Big cat or no, he was still a man. Men always wanted something. “When we say fertility ritual, it means no sex. Not that anything in me works for anything to come of it, anyway…”
“Neiriouri.” The way he said her name… She sat still and stared at him, eyes wide. “It will work. If you do it. And you mean it. Will you do it or not?”
Blinking rapidly, she nodded. “Yeah. Okay. I need some things first…”
He took a card from the coffee table and handed it to her. “Call this man. He will bring everything you need for the ritual. Be here. 9:30 p.m. The moon will be at its highest.”
“You can’t believe in this stuff,” she said, nervous laughter lilting her tone.
“You did,” he replied, getting to his feet. “Or else I wouldn’t be here. And neither would you.” He took her hand and tugged her to standing. Gathering the cup from her fingers, he set it down, and then led her from his wonderful flat. In silence, he took her to the lifts and walked with her until they reached her door.
“Until tomorrow.”
She opened her mouth to dissuade him and even managed to get a few words in. “Roshan, I’m not…”
“Faith,” he told her, his hands tightening around hers. “I know it’s been a long time, but have some in yourself.” He took a key from his trouser pocket and opened her door. With a short, almost bowing nod, he turned and walked away.

Well, she thought. That will teach me to snoop.

Monday, 16 December 2013

My Girl


The dad, the kid and the cafe owner have music to share with you. From Leila McNamara causing problems to Abigail Yeboah falling for the russet beardedness of Liam McNamara, here's the music of Sweet Child of Mine:


  1. No Money - Kings of Leon
  2. Otis Jay-Z and Kanye West
  3. I'd Rather Be High - David Bowie
  4. Gorilla - Bruno Mars
  5. Bleeding Love - Leona Lewis
  6. You Don't Know Me - Armand Van Helden 
  7. Royals - Lorde
  8. Voyeur - James Blake
  9. Wings - Little Mix
  10. Love Me Again - John Newman
  11. Dance Apocalyptic - Janelle Monae 
  12. Heart Skipped A Beat - The xx 
  13. No One Will Ever Love You - Connie Britton 
  14. Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen 
  15. Best Song Ever - One Direction
  16. Ready To Start - Arcade Fire
  17. Bang Bang - Will.I.Am 
  18. Together - The xx 
  19. War - Edwin Starr
  20. Baby baby - Justin Bieber 
  21. Joy - Ellie Goulding 

Thursday, 28 November 2013

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas...


Last year, everything was to the wire! I barely had time to breathe in between the wrapping and the shopping and the flamin' flu. This year, I've decided to be on my game. As a mini cadeau to say thank you for being delightful readers and my all round cheerleading team, I've written twelve short stories, one for each of the 12 days of Christmas, full of festive cheer and a little sauce. The sauce is because I like you lot. I like you lot quite a bit.

Click here to download the free collection from Weyward Thoughts, the collaborative blog I run with Janet Eckford and Nikki Winter (keep an eye on that for 2014 - things are happening!)

Each story has its own song and each song is perfect for the story. Read, baste yourself in some mulled wine and don't skimp on the pies. Work it off in January.


Past & Present Pleasures

  • The Fairytale of New York - The Pogues
Fate & The Future
  • Put A Little Love In Your Heart - Al Green 
The Gift Of Donna
  • Jingle Bells - Michael Buble 
India's Christmas
  • All I Want For Christmas - Mariah Carey
A New Noel
  • Mirrors - Justin Timberlake
Changing Lights
  • Dreaming Of A White Christmas - Nat King Cole
Shopping For Two
  • Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas - Christina Aguilera
Season of Diamonds
  • Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! - Frank Sinatra
Miller's Girl
  • Do They Know It's Christmas? - Band Aid
Jingle In The Night
  • Santa Baby - Eartha Kitt
Castle Family Christmas
  • I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day - Wizzard
Brooke & A Hard Place
  • Merry Christmas Everyone - Shakin' Stevens

Monday, 25 November 2013

Sweet Child Of Mine


Look at that?! Makes me feel all traditional and romantic and doing good service in the name of single fathers everywhere! Fathers who have daughters, coz as a Daddy's girl myself, I've made my father suffer. Suffer! The things that man has done with patience and a sigh and most probably several cigarettes after I've gone to bed. So this story is for the Dads to daughters. Fathers who will trek with their daughter to Topshop and endure the trauma so they can buy that skirt everyone's been on about. Fathers who will wear earplugs while their daughters sing along loudly and badly to their favourite boyband who they will marry. They totally will marry every member. Not the fat one though. Fathers who will watch that boy from across the street with suspicion because he is not allowed to look in his child's direction. Fathers who will iron school uniforms, do Design Technology homework before it is burned into a crisp, remember a much needed tennis racket and sneak a cheeky champagne to their daughter just so she knows the difference between the fake stuff and the good stuff. Thank you. You don't get enough credit.

http://www.sharaazod.com/ebook/sweet-child-mine.html

Le Blurb

Liam McNamara has enough on his plate. As a widowed father to a daughter he doesn't recognise, he really has no time for his mother's interference with his love life. She and her church friend can stop handing out photos of him to the single ladies of the congregation and let him try to be the paternal and maternal figure his daughter so desperately needs.

Abigail Yeboah ignores most of what happens in her mother's church. She's focused on her budding business and she's certainly not interested in playing Evil Queen to Liam McNamara's brat. But when Abigail catches his daughter in an act of vandalism, she finally understands it's not only the child who needs her, but the man.


La Excerpt


Abigail carried on clearing down the tables. “I’d like to be home before half eight,” she said. “I’m listening, but I do need this done.”
He leaned over and took the cloth and table spray from her hands. “Hold on a moment.”
His palms were warm and rough around her wrists. It made her freeze. Er...hello? Did she miss a conversation where this was all right? He gently tugged her in front of him, looking her directly in the eyes.
“I’m sorry about Leila’s behaviour. And I do appreciate you being decent, rather than taking her to the police station. It’s what I would have done. I’m sorry for snapping at you. It was uncalled for.”
She carefully pulled her wrists from his grasp and returned to cleaning down the tables. “Don’t worry about it. Nothing was broken.” The sigh that came from him forced her to look up. There was some truth in her mother’s words. The man was lonely. “Do you want to talk?”
“To a professional?” he asked ruefully.
She lifted one shoulder. “To me. I feel like you need to talk to someone who isn’t related to you or your vicar.”
He wavered, rubbing a palm over his beard. “Are you sure?”
No. “I’ve offered, so I’d hope so.”
Bowing his head, he stared at his shoes for a moment. “I’ll drop Leila with my mother. Shall I meet you somewhere in half an hour?”
“Just come back here,” she suggested. “Get a cab, come here. We’ll get on the wine I can’t serve until my licence kicks in. Get a cab home.”
He grinned. “You said the magic word. Wine. My mum was right about you. I’ll see you in half an hour.”
His mother was what? He disappeared, leaving her speechless, holding the cloth and cleaning spray like a doofus. Crap, did she have makeup in her bag? Hurriedly finishing the cleanup, she closed the café and rummaged through her bag to find a bit of blusher and lip-gloss. A little powder toned down the shine on her nose, but nothing was going to rescue the tired T-shirt printed with Books Are Friends or her torn jeans. She brushed a hand over her cropped hair—the cut that made her mother cry for two weeks straight. It did provide endless compliments as to how it emphasised her jawline and the shape of her eyes and drew attention to her mouth. Still, she looked boyish. Hell, Liam had more hair on his head than she did. What was she doing? Why was she getting overexcited about a grieving man?
Just as she thought about how to tell him to keep his widowed arse at home, he strolled back into the café.
“You should lock that,” he said, pulling one of her mismatched chairs from the table and sitting down. “Where’s this wine you promised?”
“Aren’t we bossy?”
“We,” he pointed his thumbs to his chest, “are in need of alcohol. A lot of.”
She bolted the front door, picked up a bottle of Pinot and a corkscrew. “You open that. I’m getting some food.”
He perked up. “Food? What do you have?”
“Goat cheese tarts to start and chicken parmigiano.”
His mouth parted for a moment before he burst out, “Jesus Christ, you fucking angel.”
“Calm down.” She laughed. “Just open the wine and I’ll bring it out.”
In five minutes, she brought out the warm tarts with onion marmalade. The smile in Liam’s eyes was enough to make her feel weak and all too aware of her femininity. “Before you say, this was all made fresh this morning. I just put it in the oven to reheat.”
“This is such a luxury, I can’t tell you.” His praise was all in his groan of appreciation after his first mouthful. “I’m a cheese monster.”
“Good for you,” she teased, taking a sip of wine. “Don’t you cook?”
“I have to. But I’ve been cutting corners recently. Trying to feed a twelve-year-old who thinks you’re Satan out to ruin her life means food needs to be done in fifteen minutes or less. I used to bake.”
Abigail choked on her tart. “You used to what?”
“Bake,” he said, barely pausing in between forkfuls of tart and salad leaves. “Bread, cakes, quiches. We’d do it together.”
Abigail tried not to tense, but the sensation invaded her shoulders. The image of his demon child and his perfect wife all laughing and giggling, throwing flour at each other, did not sit well in her stomach. “Why don’t you? Any more?”
“No incentive.”
“Come on. Having fresh bread is always an incentive.”
“Nice idea,” he murmured, flicking his eyes up from the plate to rest on her. “What’s happening with your licence?”
Normally, people only ever stared that intently at her to request service or more chocolate cake. “Refused for some unknown reason. Probably because Mrs. Dalbury-Scott’s husband is the local councillor. He deals with licences and she’s called The Library a ghetto.”
The woman had an issue with Abigail ever since she offered a breakfast and tea menu for local schoolchildren at a very reduced price. It was to help out struggling parents who had to rush to get their children to school and themselves to work. More so, it ensured those children ate well before and after a long school day. Apparently, Abigail was simply encouraging riffraff into the area and alcohol would increase the number of ASBOs the council would have to give out. Abigail wouldn’t put it past Mrs. Dalbury-Scott to imperiously command her husband to refuse the licence without thinking. Only to be petty and completely fuck up Abigail’s revenue.
Liam’s brows rose. “Does she know half the kids from her daughter’s fancy school are here every day?”
“Like yours?” she countered.
“Without the egging. I’m sorry about that... You don’t want to listen to me complaining about my child.”
Not really, but if he carried on talking she’d try to ignore what he was saying and instead focus on his voice—deep and smooth and as rich as the wine they were enjoying. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”

Thursday, 14 November 2013

Demon Heart



You thought I'd forgotten, didn't you? No, I love my musical influences too much to not collate a soundtrack list for any of my stories.

This is a lucky number thirteen soundtrack to Angel's Baby for your delectation. It's as varied and random as my emotions writing this story.
  1. Jack White - Love is Blindness
  2. Faithless - Insomnia 
  3. Gotye - Heart's A Mess
  4. Foals - My Number 
  5. Keaton Henson - To Your Health
  6. The xx - Missing
  7. Florence and the Machine - Seven Devils 
  8. Keaton Henson - Charon
  9. Olafur Arnalds - Broken (Broadchurch Soundtrack) 
  10. Gemma Hayes - Wicked Game
  11. The xx - Fantasy
  12. Jay-Z - Holy Grail ft Justin Timberlake 
  13. Tom Odell - Can't Pretend 

Sunday, 3 November 2013

That's Amore!




As promised, here's the Amazon link for A Life Sublime. Pages of Italian sunshine for you to enjoy. Blimey, it's been so long I've forgotten what happens in it...http://www.amazon.com

And now it's here, it means I can have a thorough chat about all the IK books in detail. I'll be at Violette Dubrinsky's Fantasyland on November 9th at 11pm my time, 6pm EST. Join us! It'll be quite a limencello filled riot!

https://www.facebook.com/events/1429477557271192/