Sunday, June 26, 2016

Rekindle the spark! #romanticidea and @Carmen_Books Till Life Do Us Part!


Here are Carmen Stefanescu's #romantic ideas to rekindle the spark :


                 Learn a romantic foreign language.

Take an intro-class together for a language that neither of you speak -  French, Italian, Spanish or Romanian  simply sound romantic -  and practice whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears, in that new language!

              Cuddle up together in a horse-drawn carriage ride.

You’ll probably feel like you are in a romantic comedy, and that’s a good thing.

                       Read each other’s Tarot Cards.

Take turns reading each other’s fortunes using Tarot Cards. Even if you don’t believe in divination, it will make for one fun evening spent together.

                          Go on a ghost tour together.

Find the nearest ghost tour in your city and head out on the adventure together. At least you’ll have someone’s hand to hold onto should things start to get a little spooky.

                             Feed each other fondue at home.

It really doesn’t get sexier than feeding each other chocolate dipped strawberries.

                            Till Life Do Us Part




Author: Carmen Stefanescu

Publisher: Solstice Publishing

Genre:  Paranormal Romance

Mystery, Suspense, Reincarnation,

Release date: 9th June 2016



Blurb

Barbara Heyer can hear voices of dead people. They whisper of their deaths, seek comfort for those left behind, and occasionally even warn her about future events. But when Barbara’s brother, Colin, is accused of murder, it will take more than her gift to prove his innocence.

Becoming smitten with the handsome investigator, Detective Patrick Fischer, is a serious complication given his assignment to her brother’s case. Barbara senses there is something far deeper—and perhaps much older—than the surface attraction between them. Could that be why she’s visited by a mysterious woman named Emma in her dreams? Could past life regression tie all the seemingly unconnected events together?

Barbara and Patrick must overcome heartache to find the truth to save Colin, and perhaps themselves.






Author Bio

Carmen Stefanescu resides in Romania, the native country of the infamous vampire Count Dracula, but where, for about 50 years of communist dictatorship, just speaking about God, faith, reincarnation or paranormal phenomena could have led someone to great trouble - the psychiatric hospital if not to prison.

Teacher of English and German in her native country, and mother of two daughters, Carmen Stefanescu survived the grim years of oppression, by escaping in a parallel world that of the books.

Several of her poems were successfully published in a collection of Contemporary English Poems, Muse Whispers vol.1 and Muse Whispers vol.2 by Midnight Edition Publication, in 2001 and 2002.

 Her first novel, Shadows of the Past, was released in 2012 by Wild Child Publishing, USA.

                   Carmen joined the volunteer staff at Marketing For Romance Writers Author blog and is the coordinator of #Thursday13 posts.



You can stalk the author here:








Trailer for Till Life Do Us Part: https://youtu.be/UbuntlWISc0

Buy Links:









 Short URL for Amazon:    https://goo.gl/H0dqkb


Excerpt:

With a determined stroke of her hand, Barbara applied a blob of scarlet paint on the flower, a slender poppy swaying in the breeze in the middle of a yellow wheatfield. She took a step back and admired the effect. It looked perfect in the August sunlight. She’d received an order from the friend of an acquaintance, whose wife loved flowers and owned a greenhouse, and the miniature canvas now completed the set Barbara painted with the theme Seasonal Flowers.

Sighing, she dipped the brush into another small pot of magenta paint and applied her signature at the bottom of her painting.

A whisper came, close behind her. “Beautiful!”

“Oh, Lord!” Barbara cried, as she dropped the paintbrush. Splashes of magenta scattered all over the floor. She turned her head to see the intruder, and to her bewilderment, realized she was alone.

“Colin, is that you? What kind of a joke is this? Are you in here? You’re frightening me.” She raised her voice to be heard in the front room. No answer. She picked up the paintbrush from the floor.

“Colin.” She called louder, a tinge of worry in her voice.

The only answer she received was a giggle coming from behind her. A tingling sensation swept across the back of her neck, and her fingers tightened on the brush. She didn’t turn her head again. No use for it. There would be no face in sight.

“Well, well, well. Visitors,” she whispered, shaking her head.

My mom took me one day to see a field with poppies. I touched their faces, though I didn’t pick them. Mommy said flowers cried when people took them away.

“What do you want from me? Who are you?” she asked, her voice steadier now, though she didn’t need to speak aloud to her visitor. Talking in her mind always worked well enough. There would be no harm from the one who spoke to her. A faint greenish light glimmered on top of her canvas.

I’m Alfie. When you see my parents tell them, please, I love them, and tell them not to cry for me anymore. I’m happy here now.

Barbara’s eyebrows shot up. Her thoughts asked, Do I know your parents? Who are they?

You painted those flowers for my mother, Sarah. Sarah and Richard Andrews.

My goodness. Yes, indeed. Richard Andrews is the one who ordered these made for his wife. I had no idea her name was Sarah or that she had lost a son.

They did. Me. Alfie. I died last year. I ran for the ball, out of our yard, and a speeding car ran over me. I’m in the spirit world now. Tell them I didn’t suffer.

Barbara sighed and put the paintbrush in a small tin beside the canvas. Oh, Alfie, I’m so sorry for you and for your family. It’s always heartbreaking for parents to lose their children. I’ll tell them what you want. I hope they don’t think I’m crazy.

Promise me you’ll talk to them right away, please. My mom grieves so much. She thinks it was her fault. She bought me that ball a day before the accident. Tell her not to blame herself.

The small glimmering light, like a fire fly, settled on the small address book near the telephone. It was the only way she could see the spirits contacting her.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you. Kathleen, for hosting my latest release!

    ReplyDelete