Take a journey into the past and meet the men who laughed, lived, and loved in a bygone era. This collection includes three short but sweet tales of infatuation, adventure, humor, and even a dash of the paranormal.When Love Walked In... Private investigator Bruce Shannon’s cases of missing persons and infidelity don’t inspire warm feelings around Valentine’s Day. Luckily Bruce is quite happy with only his cat for companionship—until handsome Jace Scarret wanders off the street and into Bruce’s life.
In His Corner... Former world heavyweight boxing champion Jessie “the Demon” Dalton needs a cornerman, and Eli jumps at the chance, hoping for answers about why Jessie broke his heart years ago. It soon becomes clear that Jessie needs Eli in his corner—and in his life. Now all Eli has to do is convince Jessie.
Believe Me, Beloved... Robert Bradley dreams of singing on the radio, and when he attends the masked ball of handsome station owner Gabriel Chase, Robert has no idea his dream is about to take an unexpected paranormal turn.
Buy links: Dreamspinner | Amazon US | Amazon UK
Cat gives this one 3 Meows with a 3 Purr heat index...
Normally I rate short stories individually but since these are all so short I am going to do a general overall review.
All three stories have historical settings. One of the three has a supernatural or paranormal element.I liked all three stories especially the last one. I think it was my favorite. I would have liked to have seen all of these in longer stories. The characters are all good, the stories, charming and I loved the settings. They all just left me wanting more and with a few questions.
If you like quick reads, historical stories, Private eyes, boxers, second chance, paranormal, shifters and all over good romance this is a nice collection of short stories for you.
Excerpt...
Chapter One
“WELL, THAT’S the last of ’em.”
Bruce Shannon leaned back in his worn leather chair and rubbed his hands vigorously over his face. What a stinker of a day. Not that he gave a hoot over something as off the cob as Valentine’s Day, but having to let dames know the week of said schmaltzy holiday that their beaus had found their way onto greener pastures wasn’t his idea of a good time. Then again, when did being a private dick have anything to do with having a good time? Besides, good times were a thing of the past. When the market had gone to hell over four years ago, the world had gone with it. Good for his business, bad for the soul. FDR had his work cut out for him. The key word there being work—something that was in short supply these days.
A deep purring dragged him out of his thoughts, and he smiled, scratching the scruffy black feline under her chin.
“We do fine on our own, don’t we, sweetheart?”
A slightly louder mew and twitch of the tail made Bruce chuckle. “Yeah, I suppose a tomcat now and then wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” With a sigh he stood and closed the file on his desk. That was something he damn well wasn’t going to start thinking about. This blasted holiday had him feeling enough of a heel as it was, without making him want to board that particular train wreck waiting to happen.
He opened his bottom desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of Old Forester, refilled his whiskey glass, then tossed it back. It wasn’t as if he had far to go to get home, and the brisk walk in the cold would sober him up some anyway. What the hell, one more wouldn’t hurt. After pouring himself another, he carried the glass to the cabinet and cursed under his breath when he found it locked. With a frustrated grunt, he went back to his desk and all but took it apart looking for the key.
“Damn that woman! Where is it?”
He swiped the telephone off its cradle and somehow found the patience not to bark at the operator as he asked to be connected.
A pleasant voice on the other end greeted him cheerfully. “Hello?”
“WELL, THAT’S the last of ’em.”
Bruce Shannon leaned back in his worn leather chair and rubbed his hands vigorously over his face. What a stinker of a day. Not that he gave a hoot over something as off the cob as Valentine’s Day, but having to let dames know the week of said schmaltzy holiday that their beaus had found their way onto greener pastures wasn’t his idea of a good time. Then again, when did being a private dick have anything to do with having a good time? Besides, good times were a thing of the past. When the market had gone to hell over four years ago, the world had gone with it. Good for his business, bad for the soul. FDR had his work cut out for him. The key word there being work—something that was in short supply these days.
A deep purring dragged him out of his thoughts, and he smiled, scratching the scruffy black feline under her chin.
“We do fine on our own, don’t we, sweetheart?”
A slightly louder mew and twitch of the tail made Bruce chuckle. “Yeah, I suppose a tomcat now and then wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” With a sigh he stood and closed the file on his desk. That was something he damn well wasn’t going to start thinking about. This blasted holiday had him feeling enough of a heel as it was, without making him want to board that particular train wreck waiting to happen.
He opened his bottom desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of Old Forester, refilled his whiskey glass, then tossed it back. It wasn’t as if he had far to go to get home, and the brisk walk in the cold would sober him up some anyway. What the hell, one more wouldn’t hurt. After pouring himself another, he carried the glass to the cabinet and cursed under his breath when he found it locked. With a frustrated grunt, he went back to his desk and all but took it apart looking for the key.
“Damn that woman! Where is it?”
He swiped the telephone off its cradle and somehow found the patience not to bark at the operator as he asked to be connected.
A pleasant voice on the other end greeted him cheerfully. “Hello?”
Bringing you stories with heroes, humor, and heart.
Charlie Cochet is an author by day and artist by night. Always quick to succumb to the whispers of her wayward muse, no star is out of reach when following her passion. From adventurous agents and sexy shifters, to society gentlemen and hardboiled detectives, there’s bound to be plenty of mischief for her heroes to find themselves in, and plenty of romance, too!
Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found reading, drawing, or watching movies. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.
Sounds like a fun read. Thank you for the post!
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