New Release: In the Shadow of War by Colleen Adair Fliedner

I’m pleased to announce the release of In The Shadow of War by my friend, Colleen Adair Fliedner. Colleen has penned a wonderful story of war, spies, disaster and love.

The sinking of the Lusitania is not as well known as the story of the Titanic, perhaps because the Lusitania was a victim of war rather than a spectacular freak accident. Or perhaps because there has never been a blockbuster movie about the Lusitania.

Unlike the Titanic, which took hours to go under, the Lusitania sank in a matter of minutes, eighteen to be exact. 1198 people died and only 761 survived.

In the Shadow of War cover

In 1915 while the First World War raged on in Europe, Americans, and especially New Yorkers, faced their own “silent war” at home. Disgruntled with America’s so-called promise of “neutrality” and overt trade deals with England and France, the German government set up a spy ring headquartered in Manhattan. Their espionage and terrorist networks had tentacles reaching all the way to the German Ambassador in Washington D.C. German operatives planted explosives on American and British cargo ships en route from New York to England, France, and Russia. They plotted to blow up trains, bridges, factories, and even the U.S. Capitol Building.

In the Shadow of War back cover

In the Shadow of War is available in bookstores in hard cover and paperback; e-book available exclusively at Amazon or read free with Kindle Unlimited.


“MY GOD,” Josette gasped. “They did it! They really did it!”

Seaman Morton glanced down at her and Curtis with a terrified expression. “Torpedo heading this way! Run!” He dropped the megaphone and disappeared inside the Bridge doorway.

Without a word, Curtis grabbed her arm. Together, they sprinted aft, in the direction of the stairwell. The thunderous sound of shattering metal followed a loud thud. An instant later, an explosion emanated from the heart of the liner, violently shaking the deck beneath their feet.

“This can’t be happening!” Her knees went weak, buckling beneath her. She grabbed the handrail on the bulkhead wall. Screams and shouts came from everywhere. Footsteps pounded on the deck.

“The dogs!” Josette turned around just in time to see a terrified-looking Mrs. O’Reilly, the three dogs, and several other passengers running in their direction. A thick column of water and steam spewed up from the area where the torpedo struck. Everything – the forward deck, the passengers, the dogs – were wet from the heavy spray and shaft of steam that had blown over the front section of the ship.

“Get your vests on!” a terrified Mrs. O’Reilly yelled, as she bolted past, heading for the stairwell. “We’re all doomed!”

“Wait!” Curtis yelled. “Are you all right?”

Mrs. O’Reilly didn’t answer, didn’t look back, and disappeared around the end of the bulkhead. Little Sassy followed her owner, her leash dragging behind her.

As Mr. Duns sprinted past, Curtis tried to grab him. Panicked, the Westie wasn’t having any of it. He zipped through Curtis’ grip and kept running.

“We need to go after poor Dunsy,” Josette yelled, feeling the urge to cry.

“No. We can’t. We need to get our life jackets.”

“No! I have to save him.” She stepped out to run.

He grabbed her arm. “Wait, Josie. Go get your life jacket. My room is near Mrs. Donaldson’s. I’ll check to make sure the dog—”

A deafening sound, an explosion far greater than the first one, shook the ship with such force that both Curtis and Josette were knocked to the deck. The ship shuddered, its bow lifting, then dropping hard. Horrible sounds – things crashing, breaking glass, shattering windows – could all be heard over the screams. The Lusitania rolled from side to side, finally settling itself.

Her ears ringing, Josette raised her head and glanced in the direction of the blast. The plume of steam was laced with fiery orange and black fragments, rising hundreds of feet into the air. Josette gasped, covering her mouth with her gloved hands. It looked like a volcanic eruption.

Strangely, the wreckage which had shot skyward seemed to hover in the air. As the ocean liner continued to move forward, burning chunks of debris began to rain down – wood shards, pieces of metal, and bits of glowing black matter – bounced and plinked as it hit the smokestacks, the Bridge, and the deck close to them.

“Get down!” Curtis said, pushing her to the deck and closer to the bulkhead wall. He laid on Josette to shield her, yanked at his coat, and pulled it up to cover the back of their heads. “Don’t move,” he whispered in her ear.

Josette laid face down, her cheek against the deck. Trembling, she closed her eyes. Where was her sister? Her parents?

author Colleen Adair FliednerYou can find Colleen online at:




Linda McLaughlin

New Release: Avenging the Earl’s Lady by @AlinaKField #Regency

My friend, Alina K. Field, has just released her latest Regency romance. If you haven’t read one of her books, you’re missing out on a fun read.

A proper spinster thwarts a retired spy in his plan for revenge.

Avenging the Earl’s Lady
Book Five, Sons of the Spy Lord
Regency Romantic Suspense
Word Count 58650
260 pages
Release date: November 12, 2018

Avenging the Earl's Lady coverBlurb:

He’s the most irritating, inscrutable, insufferable lord in the kingdom.

Also nosy, managing, and manipulative, and a man who’s made an art of revenge.

She ought to know better than to encourage his attentions. But…he’s rich, and when an impossible debt from her past comes due, theft seems the only answer.

What had he missed about her?

She’s nobly born, and proper. If he wanted a wife, she’d be perfect. Not to mention, he’d very much like her in his bed.

But she’s gone missing, along with a priceless painting he needs for revenge on one last enemy.

Avenging his own honor is everything—until that of his lady is threatened.

Find out what happens when the invincible Spy Lord meets his match!


She ought to know better than to encourage the attentions of the most meddlesome lord in the kingdom.

Lady Jane Montfort stretched on a sofa in the small library, trying vainly to snatch a few moments of much-needed sleep. Outside, the sea crashed and pounded, the din circling this snug Yorkshire cottage and slipping in through the half open window, as relentless as the rumbling male voices floating across the parlor from the council of spies in the dining room.

When another muffled drumming joined in, she rose and pushed the wood sash higher.

A sharp wind rushed her, far too chilling for the late July morning. No one was visible on the lane leading to Gorse Point Cottage, but there was no mistaking the hard-pounding hooves. A rider was coming.

She tiptoed through the parlor to the heavy wood entrance door and paused.

“I shall have to seduce information from her myself, then?”

The Spy Lord’s deep baritone rolled out from the meeting room, the sound slithering up her spine, at once chilling and warming, sending her nerves tapping to match the other noises.

The Earl of Shaldon would casually try to seduce another woman for information, would he? Well, she supposed he’d been doing that all over Great Britain and the Continent since King Louis lost his head.

And if she had a drum—one of those small military ones would do—she’d crash it down upon Shaldon’s firm-jawed, handsome head, ripping to shreds the taut leather or linen or bloody whatever else was stretched over the hoop.

The massive front door didn’t so much as squeak when she stepped out. As she gulped in a great breath of the salty, moist air, the rider came into view, long-legged and plainly dressed. She couldn’t discern if he was a mere messenger or one more of Shaldon’s operatives galloping here at the Earl’s behest.

Anger bubbled up in her. Except for Shaldon’s daughter, Lady Perpetua, they were all here at the Earl’s behest. But like Lady Perry, she herself was most certainly neither servant nor operative.

No, Shaldon was a handsome, enticing, and skilled manipulator, and so here she was, caught up in his schemes and blasted temptations while she had other matters, pressing matters, personal matters, to attend to.

She swallowed the moisture leaking down her throat. He’d kissed her mere hours ago. He’d fondled parts of her body that had been sleeping for more than two decades. Heavens, he’d all but seduced her in the stable yard, and she, an aging spinster, had been naught but a willing victim.

More fool her.

One of Shaldon’s men came around from the back of the house and took the reins while the rider dismounted and tossed his bag over his shoulder. Words were exchanged. The messenger shook his head and hurried to the front door.

He doffed his cap to reveal an abundance of glorious red hair. “My lady.”

He knew her, but she didn’t recognize him. He wasn’t one of the Shaldon House servants. She knew all of them.

Behind her the air stirred. Warmth circled around her and pressed into her back, and she had to fight the urge to lean into it.

“Ah, Ewan, isn’t it?” Shaldon said.

The Spy Lord himself had crept out of the door right behind her, and she hadn’t even noticed.

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Alina K FieldAuthor Bio:

Award winning author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but her true passion is the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California and hasn’t looked back. She shares a midcentury home with her husband, her spunky, blonde, rescued terrier, and the blue-eyed cat who conned his way in for dinner one day and decided the food was too good to leave.

She is the author of several Regency romances, including the 2014 Book Buyer’s Best winner, Rosalyn’s Ring. She is hard at work on her next series of Regency romances, but loves to hear from readers!

Visit her at:

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