Ghostly Returns Ghostly Howls Book 2 by Stephanie Hansen Genre: Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, Romantasy

 

Irish folklore meets small town USA

Ghostly Returns

Ghostly Howls Book 2

by Stephanie Hansen

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, Romantasy

Irish folklore meets small town USA

Strange visitors have appeared in Ethel, their clothes and mannerisms jarring against the familiar rhythm of the coastal town. The woman in Orla and Dave's spare room speaks in archaic phrases and marvels at electric lights, while the silent man staying with Molly and Cormac carries a translucent device that glows with symbols no one recognizes.

As fog rolls in from the sea, bringing with it the now-familiar whispers and cold spots that signal another haunting, the four friends realize they must unravel the temporal mystery before them. The clock tower strikes at midnight, and both past and future hang in the balance.

*Contains mature themes, open door sex scenes, and mature language.

 

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Three years ago, the small town of Ethel, VA, was rocked to its core when the lighthouse became a beacon for something an-cient and hungry. Every year since then, we’ve cast a protection spell, tying knots in rope while visualizing a protective shield, at the weathered tower a week before Samhain, our voices car-ried away by the salt-tinged wind. This year’s no different.

Cormac’s slender fingers intertwine with mine as we ap-proach Orla and Dave across the grassy shoreline. We’ve man-aged to mostly heal from the toxic tendencies of the past—the jealousy, the competition, the midnight arguments that left scorch marks on the walls. Magical abilities complementing each other have a tendency to do that, like puzzle pieces finally finding their fit.

The mid-October sunlight glints off Cormac’s long, blonde hair, turning each strand into spun gold against the blue sky. We don’t meet here at night anymore, not since the shadows began to move independently of their owners. She gently squeezes my hand in reassurance, slight crow’s feet crinkling around her eyes with a smile that blooms one of my own in return. She tries to continue her broody exterior by wearing a scuffed leather jacket with silver buckles, but her face is too full of light these days to continue the façade.

“It’s about time you two showed up,” Orla says as she wraps me in a hug, her dark curls tickling my cheek. Her automatic soul-possessing ability takes hold straight away, a warm honey-like sensation flooding through my veins. I feel her anxiety—sharp and metallic—and she feels mine. While hers is about the treacherous events three years ago, mine is about the small vel-vet box burning a hole in my pocket, holding a moonstone ring for Cormac.

I know she’ll say yes; I hear Orla’s thoughts echo in my mind like a whisper in an empty room. To assuage her anxiety, I push forward images of Cormac and me from earlier in the morning. We’d stayed in bed, all consumed with passionate kisses and bodies moving in rhythmic dance together; sheets twisted around our ankles, the taste of her still on my lips.

Okay, okay, you’re excused for being late, Orla sends through the connection, her mental voice tinged with amuse-ment. Then it’s gone as Dave, tall and broad-shouldered in his flannel-lined jacket, gently pulls her out of the hug. He com-plements her power as Cormac complements mine, his deep voice carrying over the crash of waves against the shore.

“Did you actually expect them to be on time?” he asks her, his breath visible in the chilly air.

Orla looks at me, her eyes sparkling, and we snicker like schoolgirls sharing a secret.

“Some of us know how to keep a woman in bed,” I goad Dave, watching his cheeks flush crimson.

Before he can respond, Cormac says, “Guys, I think you should come over here,” her voice tight with tension.

She’s rounding the other side of the lighthouse, her boots crunching on the path. I jog over to her, worried she might be in danger, the wind whipping my hair across my face. Once I’m next to her, I’m struck with frozen terror, my breath catching in my throat. As Orla and Dave’s footsteps catch up, I try to count the sleeping bodies sprinkled around the remnants of a bonfire.

Sprawled across the damp autumn ground lies a peculiar as-sembly of slumbering figures—some adorned in woolen cloaks and flowing medieval gowns; others draped in shimmering flapper dresses and tweed vests and flat caps. The incongruous sight sends a chill down my spine, conjuring memories of that haunted night years ago when phantoms in pheasant feathers and tarnished armor materialized from the mist. Could history be repeating itself? I draw Cormac closer, my fingers tightening protectively around her shoulder. A bitter wind sweeps through the clearing, rustling crimson leaves and stirring the strange visitors from their dreams.

“Oh, halloo,” calls a woman with cascading silver-streaked hair that catches the morning light. Deep laugh lines frame her eyes as she rises gracefully to her feet, brushing debris from her embroidered skirts. Her button nose crinkles above heart-shaped lips as she smiles warmly. “I’m Marie. We weren’t expecting anyone so early.”

“You’re days early for Samhain,” Orla informs her, her voice carrying across the clearing.

“Samhain!” exclaims a younger woman with stylish curls and bright eyes. She leaps up, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm, silver bracelets jingling at her wrists. “I’m Florian. I absolutely adore a proper shindig.”

Another woman glides forward, her tweed vest firmly hug-ging her body. She loops her arm possessively around Florian’s slender waist and extends her other hand, adorned with bangles that glint in the early light. “Kiersten,” she offers, her voice me-lodic but guarded.

“Molly, and this is Cormac,” I reply, mirroring Kiersten’s protective gesture by drawing Cormac against my side, feeling her warmth through her leather jacket.

“Might there be lodgings available in your village?” Marie inquires, her eyes scanning the distant rooftops visible through the thinning trees.

“Not anywhere that could accommodate a gathering of this size,” Dave responds, his weathered hands resting on his leather belt.

A tall woman with anxious eyes approaches Orla hesitantly. A man with sandy blond hair clutches her trembling arm as she nervously smooths out her skirt. Dave and I don’t miss her flinch with his touch, juxtaposing their closeness. It resurfaces memories from when Dave and Orla couldn’t touch. “Hello, I’m Claudia,” she murmurs, “and may I present Alex?” Her delicate fingers twist together nervously while Alex soothingly rubs her goosebump-covered arms.

“Orla and Dave,” Dave announces, nodding curtly. When Alex extends his hand to Orla, Dave intercedes and shakes his hand, so Orla doesn’t have to.

“Um, Orla,” Alex interjects, his deep voice surprisingly gen-tle. “Pardon our intrusion, but might Claudia ask you something rather personal?”

“Of course, what troubles you?” Orla asks, leaning forward with interest.

“Do you perceive others’ thoughts when you make physical contact?” Claudia whispers, her pale cheeks blooming with a rosy flush that spreads to the tips of her ears.

“Perhaps we should escort this assemblage to our home-stead,” Dave interrupts, clearing his throat. “We have several spare rooms. Not sufficient for everyone, but certainly prefera-ble to camping outside.”

“We’d be eternally grateful,” Marie responds, casting a con-cerned sideways glance at Claudia’s distressed expression. “A proper rest would benefit us tremendously after our... unusual journey.”

Ghostly Howls

Ghostly Howls Book 1

Irish folklore meets small town USA

A heartbroken half banshee, a cockle selling soul possessor, and a town haunted by mysteries…if they don't find the killer, Orla and Molly might die before finding their soulmates.

Orla and Dave's love has been unrequited for as long as they can remember. Cormac and Molly are used to drawing outside the lines. None of them are prepared for the new ghostly neighbors.

In a town that's always ostracized them, can Molly and Orla finally use their powers openly in order to save the citizens?

*Contains mature themes, open door sex scenes, and mature language.

*Don't miss the YA series also by Stephanie Hansen - Altered Helix & Replaced Parts

 

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Stephanie Hansen is a PenCraft and Global Book Award Winning Author as well as an Imadjinn finalist. Her debut novella series, Altered Helix, released in 2020. It hit the #1 New Release, #1 Best Seller, and other top 100 lists on Amazon. It is now being adapted to an animated story for Tales. Her debut novel, Replaced Parts, released in 2021 through Fire & Ice YA and Tantor Audio. It has been in a Forbes article, hit Amazon bestseller lists, and made the Apple young adult coming soon bestsellers list. The second book in the Transformed Nexus series, Omitted Pieces, released in 2022. Her debut spicy paranormal romance, Ghostly Howls, released 2023. Her debut historical magical realism, Armored Hours, released 2024. The Armored Hours sequel, Guarded Time, released 2025 and the Ghostly Howls sequel, Ghostly Returns, released 2026. She is a member of the deaf and hard of hearing community, so she tries to incorporate that into her fiction.

 

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The Reign of the Occult The Occult Series Book 1 by Lauren Louise Hazel Genre: YA Urban Fantasy

 

A shuddering, thrilling urban fantasy series

The Reign of the Occult

The Occult Series Book 1

by Lauren Louise Hazel

Genre: YA Urban Fantasy

The Reign of the Occult is a shuddering, thrilling, urban fantasy for Young Adults. Filled with hair raising chases through shadowy streets, frightening fights and mind-blowing magic, it's sure to keep many a different genre loving reader happy.

The battle between the Underworld, full of darkness, and the Overworld, full of light, has been evenly balanced for millennia. Caught between them is the mortal world, where humans have become so afraid of a magic they cannot understand or control that they allow the Occult to rule them. After the Occult joins forces with the Underworld, the balance shifts and the Overworld is decimated.

But still, in the mortal world, the magic won’t die. It appears when a supernatural being and a human have a child, like Prue.

This is the first volume in an epic new fantasy series that spans the three richly detailed worlds as Prue, her non-magical half-brother Everett, and all Magic Users, fight to survive. They are being hunted by the Occult, who turn the Magic Users they capture into tools to eliminate their own kind and, eventually, to destroy all traces of magic.

 

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Chapter 1 – Run

“Prue!” Everett gasped, unable to disguise the desperation in his voice. His legs were aching, his lungs burning, and his heart was pounding erratically in his chest – a reminder that, despite everything, he was still alive.

Maybe not for much longer.

He wheezed, attempting to inhale more air, but from the weakness in his legs, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Prue! Which way?” he cried, casting a panicked glance at his sister. He imagined he could hear them, the cocking of their guns, drawing near. Every flicker of movement in the streetlight, every sound, felt magnified, as though even the shadows were poised and ready to pounce.

“Both ways are blocked,” Prue replied at last, her feet pounding the pavement beside Everett, faltering only as they approached the junction. She frowned, eyelashes fluttering, and clenched her fists, her nails leaving angry red indentations in the palms of her hands. She was very pale.

“What are you talking about?” Everett gasped, slowing to a canter.

“Nothing is certain.”

Everett, while used to his sister’s cryptic remarks, was not in the mood for games. “That’s not helping!” he cried, skidding to a halt as they reached the turning. He cast a glance over his shoulder. “Are we going left, or right?”

Prue froze and her eyes did too, as they often were when she saw things nobody else could. “I told you,” she said, in a detached tone. “Both ways are blocked.”

Everett cocked the gun he’d held loosely in his palm, trying to ignore the way it slipped slightly in his grasp, dampened by his sweat-slick skin. “Does that mean we’re dead either way?” he asked, with a carelessness he didn’t quite feel. He checked his ammunition, if only to busy his shaking hands, knowing it would probably make little difference in the end. Maths had never been his strong point, but he knew one gun against hundreds were never favourable odds.

“They’re coming,” Prue informed her brother, although she did not meet his eyes. She was staring into the blackness at the other end of the street; Everett followed her gaze, but as always, saw nothing.

“Where—?” he began, before freezing. He couldn’t see, only hear, the rapid pounding of footsteps along a cobbled street. Low at first, the sound was growing louder, clear in the otherwise silent night. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up in warning. “Ok, you’re right,” he conceded, in a generous tone, “They’re coming! No foresight needed for that. Which way do we go?”

Prue shook her head, dark hair clinging to her bowed face, her eyes crunched in concentration. She was covered in sweat.

“Wait— wait—” Everett muttered, in a panicked breath, realising his sister was going to be of no help. He could see them now, shadows moving in the darkness, emerging at the end of the street. The Officers of the Occult. He shot three times in quick succession – one, two, three – and something must have found its mark, from the strangled cry of pain that followed. They were still alive, then. Good.

Everett had only a moment to feel relief before the others swarmed. They were closing in on them. Although in range, they had yet to fire a single shot; as he expected, their aim was to capture, not to kill.

“Something is changing,” Prue said from beside Everett. She clutched her head, fisting her fingers into her hair, as though physically trying to remove something from her mind. “Another factor is clouding things. His choices are unclear. He’s conflicted already.”

“Prue!” Everett cried, trying to pick something of use from her incoherent ramblings. He pushed her sideways, behind the wall of a garden and out of sight – at least for the moment. They were running out of time – the Officers would be upon them in less than a minute, and then there would be no escape. “Pick a way! Which way has more chance of survival?”

Prue gazed up at the sky, but she was seeing nothing. “Left,” she replied at last, “Maybe he will spare us.”

Without taking a second to contemplate what his sister might mean, Everett grabbed her slippery hand and pulled, turning a sharp left, the Officers of the Occult temporarily vanishing from view. 

The Queen of the Underworld

The Occult Series Book 2

The Queen of the Underworld is the second novel in the award-winning The Occult Series by Lauren Louise Hazel.

Following the fall of The Occult and its Head, Prue receives visions of The Queen of the Underworld—a powerful Demon who was once overthrown by her allies and exiled from her homeland—rising in its place.

Prue sees that the Queen is connected to Prue’s best friend, Lily. This leads Prue and her half-brother, Everett, on their mission across worlds to destroy the Queen and save their friend. But nothing is what it seems.

The Queen is ready and waiting for them—and she will stop at nothing to secure her future and wipe out anyone who opposes her.

 

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Lauren Louise Hazel is a Cyber Security Manager by day and writes YA fantasy by night. She has one annoying brother and younger sister. As she was growing up, the only item her dad would buy her without demanding her pocket money was books. He’s hoping the writing is successful so he can get a Ferrari!

Some of Lauren’s favourite books and influences include the classics – like Lord of the Rings and The Hunger Games – and anything by Haruki Murakami and GRR Martin.

 

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Land of Two Moons by D.L. Gardner Genre: YA Epic SciFi Fantasy Adventure

 

Political unrest, war over valuable mines, forbidden love, and a homesick dragon bound in chains threaten the land of two moons.

Land of Two Moons

by D.L. Gardner

Genre: YA Epic SciFi Fantasy Adventure

"The gritty reality of trench warfare and the smoky chaos of riots is striking in D. L. Gardner's Land of Two Moons...a rich and ambitious fantasy novel that successfully builds a world trembling on the brink of magical and political upheaval. This is a delicate, intricate novel that rewards patient reading." - Independent Book Review

 

Arthur and Hallie are twin siblings, son and daughter of the Duke of Lodesmoor. Humble teenagers who befriend the village people and sympathize with their grievances. Their father, Lord Balmier, whose duchy is approaching financial collapse, uses his subjects as pawns in a battle over a string of valuable mines.

Lord Balmier sees his son's sympathy toward the serfs as an alliance against him and soon acts to squelch Arthur's sedition.

Hallie clings to a forbidden love, and both siblings must resist their father's harsh rule.

All the while they are unaware that their mother keeps a mystical dragon named Killian, bound in chains by a spell, whose fate will affect them all.

As the twin moons approach a rare and magical eclipse, alliances shift, secrets unravel, and Arthur and Hallie must choose between loyalty, freedom, and sacrifice to save their people and themselves.

 

“With strong pacing and a cast of memorable characters – including a homesick dragon, this is the perfect book for fans of the ‘fantasy’ genre. Highly recommended!” - The Wishing Shelf

 

 

***Check out the kickstarter campaign!**

 

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Land of Two Moons will be a limited edition leather hardcover signed and numbered, a special edition case laminate hardcover, an eBook, and a paperback with printed edges. A rigid slip case is available for the hardcovers. 

 

***Check out the kickstarter campaign!**

Prologue

     Pattin didn’t know what they were fighting for. All he knew was that when their commander yelled the order he was to let loose his arrows toward another trench opposite theirs somewhere in the Red Sands desert. Rumor was they were fighting over mines, dukes, power, and money. Nothing he’d ever be privy to. It didn’t matter. He was here because he’d been conscripted.

He'd been in this trench for nine days straight. Hot, drenched in sweat, sick to his stomach, and with little to eat or drink. Tired of swatting flies and stepping over the bodies of his comrades, he was ready to leave. No one wanted to be here, especially not the lads from Bidsworth, and especially not on the front lines.

He spat the dust out of his mouth and bit another piece of jerky.

“When is she going to come for us?” he asked his friend.

“Tonight, they said. Maybe,” Ivan whispered.

“What do you mean, maybe? She promised.”

“She can only take five at a time.”

“Bloody Marks, she’s been here every night for a week. What’s she going to do, get everyone but us? The more people who leave, the less chance of survival for those who stay. I’m too young to die in this rat hole.”

Ivan shrugged—a hint that he wasn’t happy about the situation either.

“We could try and make a run for it on our own,” Pattin whispered, his lips barely moving, glancing around the desolate countryside.

Over the sand, the heat waves danced, crafting a mirage of water, a deceptive illusion that only a fool would pursue. Bait for the enemy. Pattin licked his lips, wishing for a drink of cool water from the springs in Bidsworth, his homeland, a wealthy duchy whose stone structures mirrored the color of the red earth. Here in the wasteland, iron ore poisoned the vegetation, and there was nothing but dust as far as the horizon. The soldiers hated this place, and rumors of desertion were burning the ears of the agents at base. The officers were watching the troops like hawks.

“Fool. We’d have bolts in our backs, dead. Is that what you want? If I’m going to desert, I’m doing it with Kezia.” Ivan wiped the sweat from his brow; his face caked with red earth. Even his eyelashes were laden with dirt.

“What makes her so special that she can get us out with no one noticing?”

Ivan snickered and glared at him. “She’s the duke’s daughter, remember? Plus, she’s smart, crafty, and wicked.”

“Duke sabotages his own army through his daughter!” Pattin mumbled.

“Stop complaining or she’ll never come and get you.”

Pattin wiped his brow, his mouth fixed in a frown. She might not come for him at all. It’s everyone else’s luck to be saved by a duchess.

"Heads up!" The dreaded warning arrived just as a flurry of bolts blotted out the sun.

Pattin covered his head with his shield. Ivan lifted his own targe to cover his body while the plummeting projectiles thundered on it.

“Move!” came the command.

Like a terrified beetle, Pattin crouched on the ground and joined the others, locking his shield with Ivan’s as the company crawled through the trench, hands and knees bleeding, while avoiding the corpses of friends who didn’t survive. Away from the onslaught they moved, abandoning their supplies. Someone would be sent back for them when the sun settled on the horizon and the two moons rose.

Soon everyone here would have to leave the trenches and charge at the enemy. That was a standard maneuver, and it was just a matter of time. Hand to hand combat would kill him, Pattin was certain. With practiced ease, he could loose an arrow, always striking the mark. But his end would come by the cold steel of a sword. He hoped it would be tomorrow. He wasn’t ready to die today.

Maybe Kezia would draw his name and come for him tonight. Maybe he would live through this bloody war, after all.

D.L. Gardner is an award-winning author, artist, filmmaker, and screenwriter with over 28 published works to her credit. Writing and painting are her passions and fantasy her forte. When she's not pounding keys on the computer, she's canning salsa, picking apples, listening to the voices of critters in the woods, or watching flowers grow. She loves visiting far-off lands through books by both reading and writing.

 

Her genres include all fantasy, historical, and mystery.

 

Get to know D.L. through her websites and blogs or send her a message her on Kickstarter.

 

Currently a FINALIST (2025 March) in the Cannes World Wide Film Festival for her screen adaption of her book An Unconventional Mr. Peadlebody.

 

Other awards include Wishing Shelf book Award 2023 for audio, B.R.A.G. Award 2022 for the Cho Nisi series, Book Excellence Award 2019 and 2015 for Ian's Realm and Cassandra's Castle. Best Screenplay adaptation from her book Dylan at the Paris Screenplay Awards, Mile Hill International Screenplay Awards, L.A. Edge Awards, European Cinematography Awards, and Moondance Film Festival. Best Screenplay Award for adaptation from her book An Unconventional Mr. Peadlebody at Veers Film Festival, Best Screenplay Award for adaptation of Ian's Realm at the Twin Falls Sandwiches Film Festival and many more.

  

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Circus Bim Bom

  

 A Cold War Adventure

Historical Fiction/Cold War Fiction w/romance subplots

Date Published: 03-01-2026

Publisher: Bim Bom Books

There are no accidents in life, only opportunities wearing different clothes."

When the first privately owned Soviet circus arrived in 1990 America as the Soviet Empire unraveled, its elite performers expected to build cultural bridges through spectacular shows. Instead, this prestigious troupe faced a perilous journey through Cold War America.

Circus director Yuri had to navigate treacherous waters where American mobsters, Soviet agents, and political forces circled like predators. Young aerialist Anton dreamed of becoming a clown against his family's wishes, while forbidden romances and unexpected connections bloomed between Soviet performers and Americans who saw past the ideological divide. As high-stakes conspiracies threatened to tear the circus family apart, they had to choose between the authoritarian chains of home and the uncertain promise of freedom.

As The Ringmaster reminds us, "The best Soviet stories are like vodka—they burn with suffering, intoxicate with conflict, keep you stewing in reflection, and yearning for your heart's desire." This genre-bending tale explores whether human connection can transcend ideology—and whether storytelling can bridge the divides that separate us.

 

About the Author

 

 Cliff Lovette is a father, storyteller, and dog lover living in Sandy Springs, Georgia. For over 40 years, he practiced entertainment law, serving as Senior Vice President at LaFace Records and representing artists including Usher and Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes. His passion for bridging historical divides led him to co-produce a groundbreaking reconciliation event between descendants of Buffalo Soldiers and Lakota Native Americans. In 1990, when Bobby Liberman—road manager for the first privately owned Soviet circus touring America—became his client, Cliff discovered the true story that inspired this debut duology.

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• Signed bookplate

• Digital circus poster

• Charter Bim Bom Book Club Membership

• Exclusive access to "Rabbit Hole" chapters

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Montana Matrimonial News

  

Historical Fiction

Date Published: 10-07-2025

Publisher: NorthStar Press

Loneliness gnaws and chews like the relentless prairie wind. Dakota homesteader, Digger Dancy, props his feet in the oven and waits for the storm to end. His brother, George, barges into the soddy in a swirl of blowing snow. George announces he will abandon his claim to seek a wife. He can’ t stand the loneliness. Digger slaps a stack of old newspapers on the table and convinces him to place an ad for a correspondence bride in the Montana Matrimonial News. Doctor Gamla, the almost-doctor and midwife, treats George’ s frostbite, and offers a cure for his melancholia. She tells of two sisters living in tar-paper shacks along the Mad Dog River. The brothers cannot imagine how Doctor Gamla’ s cure will change their lives. Nickelbo’ s whole world is wheat. The homesteaders talk about crops, worry about the weather, complain about prices, and dream what they’ ll buy after the harvest. Asa Wainwright busts sod with a grasshopper plow. Ingrid Larson dallies over planting to avoid her sister’ s wedding. Drunken Oscar Borgom gets lost in a storm on the way to the outhouse. Through it all, Doctor Gamla delivers babies, treats ailments, and offers advice. “My cures work if you can stand them."

Excerpt

Digger Dancy paced back and forth across his soddy, ten steps from door to stove, eleven steps from table to bed. He had survived four long winters, and he would survive now. It was a matter of mental discipline. He focused on pleasant things: playing baseball in July, a keg of beer cooled in the river, turning the crank at the ice cream social, dancing to a polka band. Don’t think about Christmas coming. Don’t count the months until spring. Don’t worry about your brother. Read. Sing. Recite poetry. Read some more. Remember the poems you memorized in school. Listen my children and you shall hear of the midnight ride of Paul Revere. And the Bible verses you learned in church. Jesus wept. God is love. The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want. Get ahold of yourself.

Digger cracked open the door and peered out into the storm. A white curtain of blowing snow wrapped the world into a cocoon. He couldn’t see a thing. Yesterday, the storm roared out of Canada and dumped three feet of snow across Dakota Territory. Snow was still coming down. Icy cold robbed his breath. He slammed the door and added kerosene to the lamp. The earthen walls absorbed the light, leaving only a feeble glow.

He had sweet-talked his brother into homesteading the adjoining claim. They would share work and keep each other company. They would build their own life, away from their bossy mother and relatives. Sitting on a claim for five years was worth the title from Uncle Sam, in his opinion, but George suffered from melancholia. Dark winter days pushed him to the edge of sanity. George always snapped back in the spring, but even so, Digger worried about him. Lately he had been withdrawn and morose. As soon as the weather cleared, he would go check on him. Dear God, don’t let him do anything rash.

He pulled his chair next to the stove, rested his feet on the open oven door, and opened a Fargo Argosy that was almost old enough to vote. He reread a report of a baseball game. Homesteaders were too busy and too isolated to play much ball. Next summer he would convince his neighbors to play a game once in a while. It was the only thing he missed about Iowa. He didn’t miss his bossy mother or the town gossips. He didn’t miss everyone trying to tell him how to live his life.

 

About the Author

 

 Candace Simar likes to imagine how things might have been. She combines her love of history with her Scandinavian heritage in historical novels that examine the early days of Minnesota and North Dakota. “I write historical novels to share painless history lessons about the fascinating and unique history of our region.”

Her historical novels include: Sister Lumberjack, book five in the Abercrombie Trail Series (North Star Press, March 2024) Follow Whiskey Creek (Sweet Honey Press 2023) Escape to Fort Abercrombie (Five Star Cengage 2018) Shelterbelts (North Star Press 2015), Blooming Prairie (North Star Press 2012) Birdie (North Star Press2011) Pomme de Terre (North Star Press 2010), and Abercrombie Trail (North Star Press 2009). Her short story collections: Dear Homefolks (River Place Press 2017) and The Glory of Ordinary Time (Wolfpack Press 2018). Farm Girls (River Place Press 2013) is a book of poetry co-written with her sister, Angela Foster. Candace’s short stories have been published in the anthologies: Spoilt Quilt (Five Star Cengage 2020), Librarians of the West (Five Star Cengage 2021); and Why Cows Need Cowboys (Two Dot Press 2021).

Simar is a Spur Award winner and Spur finalist from the Western Writers of America for her Abercrombie Trail series. Shelterbelts was a finalist in both the Willa Literary Awards in Historical Fiction and the Midwest Book Awards. Escape to Fort Abercrombie holds a Will Rogers Gold Medallion and a Peacemaker Award from Western Fictioneers.

Her short stories and poetry have received awards from the Bob Dylan Creative Writing Contest, Lake Region Review, League of Minnesota Poets, National Federation of State Poetry Societies, Dust and Fire, and the Laura Awards for Short Fiction.

Candace enjoys sharing her research and writing with groups and book clubs across the nation.

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