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The Winston Brothers Box Set is 99¢

January 3, 2024 by in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Spotlight tagged as , , , ,

★★Box Set DEAL★★

The Winston Brothers Box Set, from New York Times bestselling author Penny Reid, is only 99 PENNIES for just a short while on Amazon! This swoony collection contains the first two books in the series, ‘Beauty and the Mustache’ and ‘Truth or Beard’, and is a great introduction to Penny’s fantastic small-town romances.

★★⁣⁣Grab your copy TODAY or Read in Kindle Unlimited★★

⁣⁣Amazon US: https://amzn.to/41jKOCe  

Amazon UK: https://bit.ly/486fMjF

Amazon CA: https://bit.ly/3tjsnB8

Amazon AU: https://bit.ly/47dInlL

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Featured Author: Denise M. Colby

January 1, 2024 by in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Featured Author of the Month tagged as , , , ,

Denise M. Colby loves to write words that encourage, enrich, and engage whether it’s in her blog, social media, magazine articles, or devotions. With over 20+ years’ experience in marketing, she enjoys using her skills to help other authors.

Denise Colby |The Writing Journey

She treasures the written word and the messages that can be conveyed when certain words are strung together. She, being an avid journal writer, is often seen with a pen and notepad whenever she reads God’s word. Denise is writing her first Christian Historical Romance Series, and you can find her at www.denisemcolby.com

Denise is a member of OCRW, Faith, Hope & Love Christian Writers, ACFW (where she was a semi-finalist in the Genesis contest Historical Romance Category), OC Chapter of ACFW, and Novel Academy.

You can read Denise’s column The Writing Journey on A Slice of Orange, or follow her on Facebook or Instagram. You can also sign-up for her newsletter.

Big news for Denise!

In November of 2023, she won the grand prize in the  Scrivenings Press #GetPubbed writing contest. Her novel. When Plans Go Awry, is scheduled to be published on June 4, 2024. You can read all about it: From Aspiring to Contracted.


 Denise M. Colby’s Books


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Featured Author: Bethlehem Writers Group, LLC

December 31, 2023 by in category Apples & Oranges by Marianne H. Donley, Contests, Featured Author of the Month tagged as , , , , , ,

About Bethlehem Writers Group, LLC

The Bethlehem Writers Group, LLC (BWG), is a community of mutually supportive fiction and nonfiction authors based in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. The members are as different from each other as their stories. BWG also publishes quality fiction through their online literary journal, Bethlehem Writers Roundtable, and their award-winning A Sweet, Funny, and Strange Anthology series.

Each anthology has an overall theme—broadly interpreted—but includes a variety of genres. All but the first anthology include stories from the winner(s) of The Bethlehem Writers Short Story Award.

Their first anthology, A Christmas Sampler: Sweet, Funny, and Strange Holiday Tales (2009), won two Next Generation Indie Book Awards: Best Anthology and Best Short Fiction.

An Element of Mystery: Sweet, Funny, and Strange Tales of Intrigue is the latest in A Sweet, Funny, and Strange Anthology. This anthology was a finalist in both the 2023 Next Generation Indie Book Award and the 2023 Killer Nashville’s Silver Falchion.

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About An Element of Mystery

The Bethlehem Writers Group is pleased to present this collection of tales of mystery and intrigue—the latest in its award-winning series of Sweet, Funny, and Strange® anthologies. From classic whodunnits to tales of the unexplained, each of the twenty-three stories contained herein have an element of mystery that will keep you guessing and wanting to read just one more story.

We’re thrilled to have old friends, but new members of BWG, join us this year. Award-winning author Debra H. Goldstein favors us with a mystery set among volunteers at a synagogue entitled “Death in the Hand of the Tongue,” while “Sense Memory,” by the multi-talented Paula Gail Benson, brings a delightful mix of mystery and the paranormal that helps a young couple find their way to each other.

In addition, we are happy to bring you the winning stories from two of our annual Bethlehem Writers Roundtable Short Story Award competitions: “Good Cop/Bad Cop” by Trey Dowell (2021 winner) and “The Tabac Man” by Eleanor Ingbretson (2022 winner).

You’ll also find stories from your favorite BWG authors, including Courtney Annicchiarico, Jeff Baird, Peter J Barbour, A. E. Decker, Marianne H. Donley, Ralph Hieb, DT Krippene, Jerry McFadden, Emily P. W. Murphy, Christopher D. Ochs, Dianna Sinovic, Kidd Wadsworth, Paul Weidknecht, and Carol L. Wright.

So get ready to be mystified . . . or intrigued!


Next up for BWG

BWG is working on their eighth anthology, Season’s Readings: More, Sweet, Funny, and Strange Holiday Tales.

In connection with this anthology, they are hosting The Bethlehem Writers 2024 Short Story Award

The 2024 Short Story Award opened on January 1, 2024. The theme will be Holiday Stories (broadly interpreted).

BWG is seeking never-published short stories of 2,000 words or fewer. First Place will receive $250 and publication in their upcoming anthology: Season’s Readings: More, Sweet, Funny, and Strange Holiday Tales or in Bethlehem Writers Roundtable.

The final judge of the 2024 Short Story Award is Marlo Berliner, the multi-award-winning, bestselling author of The Ghost Chronicles series.


Books from Bethlehem Writers Group, LLC


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A Winter’s Tale

December 30, 2023 by in category Quill and Moss by Dianna Sinovic, Writing tagged as , , , ,

One memory from this time of year that’s still as crisp in detail as the night it happened was when I was eleven. That was more than thirty years ago, a time before cell phones or Taylor Swift. A time when I hadn’t yet left the magic of childhood.

My Uncle Charles picked me up several days before Christmas to buy a tree. It was our annual outing, just he and I. My family celebrated the holiday, but my parents didn’t care whether our tree was live or fake. In fact, I’m told we had a fake silver tree decorated with glossy red balls for the first few years of my life. I have no memory of that.

At some point, my uncle stepped in, insisting that we have a fresh-cut tree even if he had to foot the bill. And, he said, I was to be his yearly assistant; my Aunt Ruth was too busy to join us on our search for the perfect tree.

The year that’s so vivid has the late afternoon sky spitting snow when my uncle stopped by for me. I grew up in a suburban Bucks County neighborhood, but Uncle Charles wasn’t interested in buying a tree from one of the tree lots that sprang up at the area malls. He drove me out to the Springtown Holiday Tree Farm, which covered acres and acres of Pennsylvania countryside with Douglas fir lined up in neat rows. 

He and I shared a game each year: As we walked up and down the lanes of trees, we pretended we were judges, intent on selecting that season’s winner. Once we had our top three picks, the tree that ranked first was the one he bought. In addition, he always purchased a second tree for himself and Aunt Ruth, even if it wasn’t as lovely or full, even if it had a few less-than-perfect branches.

That year, with a light snow dusting our hair and shoulders, we cast our ballots. My favorite, and his, was a tree that stood a good head taller than my towering uncle. Without fail each year, we picked the identical tree as the “winner.” Looking back now, I think that my uncle only pretended to vote; he ultimately ceded the decision to me.

After paying for the two trees, he expertly sawed each down. I’ve always wondered at his skill with the saw. My father—his brother—had no affinity for sharp tools—or any tools, for that matter.

My uncle gently placed the trees in the back of his pickup and tied them down carefully so they wouldn’t be damaged on the journey home, a good forty-five minutes away.

By the time we were ready to head out, the snow had increased in intensity. Thick flakes now blanketed the fields, and the long farm drive had maybe three inches on it. 

I was nervous about the weather. My mother hated driving in snow, so I must have inherited that autonomic fear from her. 

“Don’t you worry, Elf,” my uncle said, using his nickname for me as he started down the drive toward the main road. “It’s just a little snow.”

But once we were on the two-lane highway, the snow worsened into a squall. Switching the wipers and defroster to high, my uncle slowed his speed to a crawl. It was difficult to see the road ahead, and the rear window was iced over. No one else seemed to be out, not even the plows. In that time before cell phones, we couldn’t call my parents to let them know we would be later than we’d hoped.

On one sharp curve, the tires on the truck slipped, and we skidded toward the edge of the road. The brakes were useless, and although my uncle tried, he could not keep the truck from sliding into the ditch.

He cursed softly, but immediately checked on me. We were both unharmed, yet the vehicle was mired in the snow. He fought his way out the driver’s side door to make sure the tailpipe wasn’t buried, and then turned the engine back on to keep us warm.

One hour became two, became three. Uncle Charles switched the engine off every so often. The slender self I was at eleven got cold even with the heater on intermittently, and Uncle Charles dug out a thick Carhartt coat from behind the seat to snuggle around me. He also discovered a few wrapped chocolates and a stale package of crackers in the glove box, and we shared that scant dinner.

While we waited, he told stories of his own childhood. I learned things about my father’s family no one had ever mentioned: Uncle Charles and Dad had had a sister who died of the measles at age three. My uncle thought the world of Dad, although Dad always seemed to resent him. 

Even in the darkness that surrounded us on that silent stretch of roadway, the cab was illuminated with a glow and a warmth I can’t explain. I must have drifted off.

When I awoke, I was riding in the jump seat of a tow truck. Uncle Charles was in the front seat with the driver. The pickup was trailing behind us as a tow. 

“Almost home, Elf,” my uncle said. He handed me a paper cup of hot chocolate. The snow had stopped, and the sky was lightening toward dawn. The plows had cleared the road, and we made good time.

My mother remembers it differently. She says that we were not stuck in the snow for nine hours, but only for about two. That I was home and in bed by midnight. That my uncle had more personal problems than I was told about at age eleven.

But I know what I recall: It was the night my uncle saved my life. Unfortunately, he passed away several days afterward, having succumbed to a bad case of the flu. 

And the tree we brought home? I still have a photo of it, ablaze with extra lights from Aunt Ruth, and glittering with tinsel and glossy cellophane candy canes. Decorated with love.

I take the photo out every year and prop it on my mantel. To remind me.

Read more of Dianna’s stories in the following anthologies:

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More Holiday Reading

December 28, 2023 by in category Quarter Days by Alina K. Field tagged as , , ,

How is your Yuletide shaping up?

This autumn I managed two extraordinary (for me) writing accomplishments:

1. Some butt-in-the-chair speedy writing for a last-minute holiday collection of stories put together during a time when I was attending two different week-long writing events, and

2. Writing short (8000 words). Which of course, helped me meet the deadline. Ideas for developing secondary characters came to me later. When the rights revert to me in a few months, I just might work in some changes.

Christmastide Kisses

My story, Twelfth Night Treasure is set among some longer novellas. The tales in this collection put together by four of us Bluestocking Belles plus author friends Ruth A. Casie and Aileen Fish will help brighten your holidays:

  • A beleaguered uncle whose wards have run off every governess–what he needs is a wife, if only he can persuade the latest applicant
  • A country solicitor who becomes an earl and then finds a secret that changes everything
  • A very proper clergyman who battles very improper urges when he and a lady with a murky past find themselves snowbound
  • A viscount whose search to unearth generations-old family secrets kindles the fire of love for his lovely search partner
  • A former army captain who wonders if the best friend of his ex-fiancee is the woman he should have married
  • A vicar with a misspent youth and the duke’s daughter who brings out the best in him

Six gentlemen and the ladies with whom they discover the power of a Christmastide Kiss.

A Villainous Vicar Reforms

The hero of my story is a clergyman who happened to be something of a villain in the my 2022 Christmas story, Flowers for His Lady. He had a whole year to reform since he almost ruined his sister’s chance at happiness last year. I’ve done my best to redeem him. If you read the story, let me know if you think I succeeded!

Happy Rest of the Holidays!

Besides taking time for holiday reading, be sure to grab a kiss under the mistletoe if you can!

I’ll be back in March for another Quarter Days Post.

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