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Thursday, September 18, 2025

Read an Excerpt of The Champagne Crush by Caroline O'Connell (#contests- Enter to win some nice prizes- 3 winners.)

The Champagne Crush
Caroline O ’Connell
(Les Femmes Series)
Publication date: September 16th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

 

For fans of The Paradise Problem, a slow-burn romance about a socialite in over her head in a high-stakes job promoting a new sparkling wine with a difficult boss who wants to see her fail—despite the electric sparks flying between them.

Catherine Reynolds has enjoyed a life of luxury, but her diplomat parents have cut her off financially, leaving her flat broke. She is determined to turn things around and gain her independence—so, when an old family friend offers her a lifeline as a PR consultant for his sparkling wine company, she jumps at the chance. But working with Chris McDermott, the company’s sexy, stubborn president, is anything but easy.

A purist at heart, Chris clashes with Catherine’s glitzy marketing flair; still, the chemistry between them is undeniable. As they travel from New York to Napa, Paris, and the Champagne region of France, their partnership blossoms amid high-stakes industry rivalries and a launch that could make or break them.

When sabotage threatens to shatter their dreams, Catherine must dig deep to prove her worth. With the dazzling unveiling of their new sparkling wine in Bordeaux in jeopardy, will she and Chris overcome the challenges of the past and present to secure their future—and find love in the process?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

 

 

 

Also check out Caroline’s other book, Affordable Paris Hotels!
Your Ultimate Guide to a Perfect Trip to Paris is the must-have resource for travelers who want charm, comfort, and location—without the luxury hotel price tag.


 

 Read an Excerpt

 

Sightseeing in Paris

(after work trip to Champagne)

As they walked out, Chris asked, “What’s on the agenda for this afternoon?”

Catherine’s eyes lit up. “Shopping, of course, though I’m on a tight budget. Mind if we stop at my favorite lingerie boutique?”

Chris draped his arm around her shoulders. “Far from it. Consider it my duty to assist in your choices—after you’ve modeled the contenders.”

“Sounds like an athletic event,” she said.

“Might very well be after you’re done.” Chris’s arm around her tightened as they found a nearby cab.

“What’s so special about this place?” he asked during their ride over to the Right Bank.

“Family tradition. My French grandma used to take me there. Herminie Cadolle is credited with inventing the bra in the late 1800s. She cut a corset in half and voilà.” Catherine made a cutting gesture across her chest. “Every garment was handmade, called sur mesure, to fit each woman’s body. Now much of their lingerie is ready to wear, prêt à porter.”

“Don’t they sell stuff like this in New York?”

She shook her head. “Not really. Cadolle is still run by Herminie’s descendants—same high standards, top silk and black French lace, quality craftsmanship.”

Ten minutes later, they walked into the boutique on Rue Cambon. A young saleslady welcomed them and directed Chris to a sitting area. Catherine perused ensembles hanging artfully on a partition while Chris was served coffee. Then the ladies got to work.

Catherine had a gift card from her French grandma; she hoped the amount would cover a matching bra and panty set and a silk cami. In her modeling days, she and Vanessa had worn

camisoles as an undergarment for an extra layer to stay warm or as a sexy top under a fitted suit jacket, buttoned up partway with the lace peeking out.

The saleslady understood exactly what Catherine preferred and they had a good selection in Catherine’s small size. Catherine playfully dangled a few lacy nothings in front of Chris on her way to the dressing room. She’d never been to a lingerie store with a man waiting nearby. She found it incredibly sexy. As she tried on each delicate bra and panties set, she envisioned modeling them for him.

Catherine knew she was playing with fire and had some trepidation. Chris had made his intentions crystal clear. No holds barred while they were in Paris. After the trip, they’d go back to their agreement to wait until the launch.

She was intensely attracted to him. Her quandary: She had difficulty letting her guard down when it came to intimacy. She might freeze up. That could nix this love affair before it started. She liked him so much she was willing to take the gamble.

There’s something to this French stuff, Chris mused, while waiting on a velvet settee with a cup of strong coffee. The French didn’t hide their appreciation for sexy lingerie. He’d passed more boutiques displaying lacy bras and barely-there undies on the streets of Paris than in any other city. Of course, the woman who’d captured his interest was all in on this enticing game.

In a dressing room nearby, she was in the process of selecting an ensemble that he hoped to get her to model for him in private, post haste. Fortunately, their hotel was a few blocks away.

Catherine emerged with her purchases in a decorative gold bag and looked pleased with the results. This woman really does like to shop.

They got back to the hotel in record time. Chris suggested a stop at the Costes bar for a late-afternoon cocktail. He managed to find a dark corner where they could sit side by side in a

secluded leather booth with no distractions. After ordering the house specialty—a pitcher of Caipirinha, sugar cane, liquor, and lime—Chris reached for Catherine’s hand.

I’m head over heels for this woman. He hoped she felt the same and it wasn’t a dalliance on her part.

 

 

Author Bio:

CAROLINE O’CONNELL has written five travel guides and numerous travel articles for magazines, newspapers, and websites. Her Romance In Paris guide has won widespread praise: “There is no better person to guide you through Paris than Caroline” — Peter Greenberg, the Travel Detective, radio host, and Travel Editor on CBS-TV. And Library Journal raved — “Reading this breezy but informative guide to Paris is like having a series of conversations with a well-traveled friend…”

Her debut novel, THE CHAMPAGNE CRUSH: A Romance Novel (Spark Press), is due out on September 16, 2025.

Website / Goodreads / Twitter


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Wednesday, September 17, 2025

Book Blitz of The Magic of Painted Creek by Robyn Kilgore (#contests- Enter to win a PR Box.)

The Magic of Painted Creek
Robyn Kilgore
Publication date: June 24th 2025
Genres: Adult, Magical Realism

She only came back to settle a will, but her roots ran deeper than she bargained for…

Mabel Morrison considers herself fortunate to have a thriving art business at only twenty-five years old. After the sudden passing of her grandmother, Mabel leaves her mother, her only living relative, in Columbus, Ohio and finds herself back in Painted Creek, North Carolina to settle her grandmother’s affairs.

The longer she is stuck in town, the more she learns about her grandmother’s legacy and the family that came before her. As she starts to piece together a found family of her own, Mabel begins to embrace her other natural gifts within her paintings that she’s been denying for years. Suddenly, she imagines what life could be like in Painted Creek surrounded by friends, magic, and love. The future seems brighter than ever as she slowly begins to stray further from the path that was laid out for her when she was young.

But her newfound confidence is shaken when her new friendships are tested, setting off a chain of events that could change the course of Mabel’s life forever. Has Mabel inherited more than she bargained for? Or will she find the inner strength to embrace all of her gifts and hold on to everything she has never let herself want?

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

The alarm clock crashed to the floor as I smacked at it for the last time. “I’m leaving that damn thing here,” I grumbled to myself. I felt crazy for having such strong feelings about an inanimate object, but I hated that alarm clock. Sitting upright and running my hands down my face, I felt more like a zombie than a human girl. Woman.

Whatever.

Unfortunately, I’d missed the off button for the alarm and the clock’s fall from the table hadn’t broken it or ripped the plug from the wall, so it was still happily wailing away from under the bed. And it didn’t sound muted. Oh no, now it somehow seemed to reverberate through the entire room as if the under bed acoustics were the perfect amplifier for my morning agony. Flipping myself over the edge of the bed and hanging upside down, I yanked the cord from the wall and huffed in relief at the sudden silence. Calling on core strength I absolutely did not have, I wriggled upright and collapsed back into the pillows.

In the sudden stillness, I took a moment to really look around my bedroom in the apartment I’d had for the last five years, the first place I could call my own when I moved out of my mother’s house. Looking at it now though, I wondered if I really could call it mine. I paid the rent and other bills, sure, and maintained my responsibilities, and theoretically made all the decisions. But I felt no sense of “me” in this space. The walls were a dull builder grade beige, as was the carpet. Hell, even my comforter was a slightly darker shade of beige. The only pop of personality in the room was my dark purple sheets, and even they were hidden away when the bed was made.

My mother had helped me choose the apartment, and all the things in it, when she finally conceded to my desire to move out at twenty years old. I had been financially self sufficient for a couple years, I was lucky in that way. My painting business had really taken off right after high school, and in a mere year I had acquired a nice little nest egg that continued to grow while I still lived at home.

I shook my head, not wanting to mentally relive the fights we’d had when I told her I wanted a place of my own. But I couldn’t help but wonder as I looked around my bedroom if this is what I would have chosen for myself. Even the artwork, now carefully wrapped up and ready to move, was bland and muted in color. Neutral. Safe.

I glanced back over at the offending alarm clock. My mother had even gifted me that alarm clock, saying that productive people got their day started early. “You started this.” I narrowed my eyes, pointed at it, and huffed. I realized the clock probably sounded louder because the room was now almost completely empty, and therefore echoey, not because the electronic device was actually yelling at me.

After one more second of reflection, and one more glare at the clock, I squared my shoulders and got out of bed. “No time like a new beginning to change your interior design choices. And I’m more productive at night anyway.” With that, I headed to the shower, vowing to leave the alarm clock and all things beige behind in the move.

Author Bio:

Robyn Kilgore lives in Tennessee with her husband, kids, dog and business manager (the cat). When she’s not working on a writing project or reading, you can find her chauffeuring her kids to activities… usually by way of a coffee shop drive through. Her love of vintage treasures, whimsical findings, and seeking magic in every day life led her easily to write magical realism novels. Robyn also has a small handmade jewelry and craft business, her first (and forever) passion turned business venture. She gives a nod to the experience of making jewelry in her first novel, The Magic of Painted Creek.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Facebook


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The Magic of Painted Creek Blitz


Tuesday, September 16, 2025

Spotlight of The Quantum Revelations by Stuart Heinrich (#Contests- Enter to win a signed copy of the book.)


 
Book Details:

Book Title: THE QUANTUM REVELATIONS by Stuart Heinrich
Category:  Adult Fiction (18 +),  474 pages
Genre: Sci-fi, Mystery, Thriller, Scientific
Publisher:  Endless Tree Books, LLC
Release date:  July 31, 2025
Content RatingPG-13. My book is rated PG-13 for some religious profanities, violence involving firearms, as well as mature themes such as global warming and ecological collapse.
 
Book Description:

The world is on the brink of an apocalyptic climate crisis and quickly spiraling out of control into a dystopian nightmare. As everything collapses around them, two scientists struggle for relevance in their quest to build the world’s first practical quantum computer. They discover so much more: a mystery of physics that goes deeper than they could have ever imagined...
  BUY THE BOOK:
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Meet the Author:

Stuart Heinrich holds a PhD in computer science and a passionate interest in the fundamental nature of reality. The Quantum Revelations is his debut novel.

 
connect with the author:

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QUANTUM REVELATIONS Book Tour Giveaway



Monday, September 15, 2025

Guest Post by Christine Knapp Author of Murder at the Wedding (Modern Midwife Mystery Series, Book 1.)

Murder at the Wedding by Christine Knapp Banner

MURDER AT THE WEDDING

by Christine Knapp

September 8 - October 3, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

A Modern Midwife Mystery

Birth, death, mayhem, and murder…

Murder at the Wedding by Christine Knapp
Maeve O’Reilly Kensington loves her job as a nurse-midwife at Creighton Memorial Hospital in the quintessential New England seaside town of Langford. Nothing could bring her more pleasure than helping women usher new life into the world... except possibly having a child of her own with her husband, Will. In the meantime, she's happy to celebrate the families of those she treats, and content to support her husband in his newly formed catering business.

However when Creighton Memorial's Chief Obstetrician suddenly drops dead at his daughter’s extravagant wedding reception, catered by Will, Maeve's two worlds collide in the worst possible way. Suddenly murder is on the menu, and Maeve is desperate to help her husband and find out who killed the doctor.

With the help of her wealthy, acerbic sister Meg and quick-witted Boston Irish mother, Maeve sets out to solve a murder and clear her husband's name. Can she stay one step ahead of the killer? Or will they strike again... this time closer to home?

Praise for Murder at the Wedding:

"Christine’s writing style is very entertaining with sensory laden description of the various environment, characters, and even the state of Maeve’s cookies and knitting. Clever & Entertaining Gem!"
~ Kings River Life Magazine

"Readers will fall in love with this series immediately!! I highly encourage and suggest you grab your copy."
~ Cozy Mystery Book Reviews

Book Details:

Genre: Cozy Mystery
Published by: Gemma Halliday Publishing
Publication Date: June 10, 2022
Number of Pages: 249
ISBN: 9798835432134 (pbk)
Series: Modern Midwife Mystery Series, Book 1

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Audiobooks.com | Gemma Halliday Publishing

MODERN MIDWIFE MYSTERY SERIES

Check out the full Modern Midwife Mystery series: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Gemma Halliday Publishing

Murder on the Widow's Walk Modern Midwife Mysteries book #2 Christine Knapp
Murder on the Widow's Walk, #2
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Audiobooks.com

Murder on the Books Modern Midwife Mysteries book #3 Christine Knapp
Murder on the Books, #3
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Audiobooks.com

Murder at First Light Modern Midwife Mysteries book #4 Christine Knapp
Murder at First Light, #4
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Murder on the Green Modern Midwife Mysteries book #5 Christine Knapp
Murder on the Green, #5
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

 

GUEST POST: 

 

Maeve O'Reilly Kensington is a modern-day nurse midwife who practices at Creighton Memorial Hospital in the lovely seaside town of Langford, Massachusetts. Life is good. Maeve is married to Will, a local caterer, and through a gift from his beloved grandmother, they live with their beloved rescue dachshund, Fenway, in a restored carriage house with an ocean view. Maeve is living her dream but wishes they could add a child to their family.

Her close-knit family is nearby, and the midwifery practice is thriving. On a sunny day in June, Maeve makes her way to the society wedding of the chief obstetrician's only daughter. This is a make-or-break opportunity for Will's company, A Thyme for All Seasons. Lush flowers, a fancy country club, and designer wedding garb combine to make this an event to remember.

Suddenly, the chief obstetrician is stricken during the toast to his beloved daughter, and Maeve's life is turned upside down. All eyes turn to Will's catering. Was it something in the food?

Maeve and her acerbic but loving sister Meg decide they must investigate. With the help of their dynamic Boston Irish mother, they do a deep dive on some of the guests. In the midst of this, Maeve starts a fertility evaluation. Immediately, her world is upside down.

Will she solve the mystery?

Can Will's business recover?

Is a baby in her future?

Murder at the Wedding introduces Maeve's large family, her midwifery colleagues, and her seemingly idyllic town. The Modern Midwife Mysteries is just beginning. Don't miss this debut.

 

Read an excerpt:

from CHAPTER TWO of

Murder at the Wedding

The parking lot at St. Andrew's Episcopal was filled almost to capacity. Despite a recent visit to the car wash, my Jeep looked out of place next to all the Mercedes, BMWs, Range Rovers, Jaguars, and Porsches.

I took out and quickly scanned the engraved linen cream invitation. It read:

Matrimonial Ceremony of
Charlotte Alexis Whitaker
and
Brooks James Hawthorne IV
St. Andrew's Episcopal Church
Langford, Massachusetts
Saturday, the eighth of June, at two o'clock in the afternoon

As I approached the massive church, I saw all the pink plantings and railings wrapped in white tulle with pink peonies at precise intervals. It was a floral tour de force that must have taken an army of gardeners and florists a few days to accomplish. Inside there were pink roses, peonies, and hydrangeas everywhere. The scene was right out of InStyle Magazine. I wondered, were there any pink flowers left on the East Coast? On the West Coast?

As I squeezed into the last row, a large choir serenaded the full house in the loft above the congregation.

The choir began to sing "My Spirit Sang All Day" as Mrs. Whitaker, resplendent in a strapless, rose silk Carolina Herrera with a vibrant pink cabbage rose behind one ear and a necklace of marble-sized, green South Sea pearls, was ushered to the left front pew. Really? Strapless for the mother of the bride? Well, she does look amazing.

A hush fell over the crowd. The stained-glass doors closed, and the groom and his men filed to the altar.

Did one have to be six feet two, gorgeous, and ripped to be in this wedding party?

As the first strands of Wagner filled the air, the doors opened, and down the aisle came Anastasia Bleeker. She was one of the bride's four-year-old charges at Miss Bloomfield's School, where wealthy, pregnant women enrolled their offspring-to-be to claim a coveted spot. Anastasia was wearing a white tulle fairy-tale gown with a dark rose-colored sash. A circle of petite, light pink roses and baby's breath crowned her chin length, straight, white-blonde hair. She carried a small, white wicker basket in one hand, and with the other, she started to drop pale pink rose petals down the long aisle.

Channeling Lady Di, I thought.

Next came the ring bearer, Barrington Cabot. He was another nursery school trust-fund-baby-in-the-making in white linen shorts and jacket and a head of black, curly hair. Then six breathtaking models, or rather bridesmaids, dressed in rose-colored tulle skirts and pale pink lace wrap blouses, floated down the aisle carrying white and pink hydrangeas wrapped in rose-colored ribbons. They looked like an upscale version of an ad for the United Colors of Benetton.

After a slight pause, the stained-glass doors parted again, and Dr. Whitaker appeared in his morning suit, standing at Charlotte's right side. She was breathtaking in a Vera Wang white silk ball gown glittering with thousands of tiny seed pearls. A deep rose satin ribbon wrapped around her bouquet of white peonies. Her Belgian lace veil trailed behind her down the aisle.

The ceremony went on amid candlelight, roses, and organ music. It was like being in a dream, albeit a very, very expensive dream.

Finally, vows were exchanged, there were no objections, and Charlotte and Brooks were off to the photo-taking session in a vintage, white Bentley. As they left, the guests milled about outside the church for a bit and then headed to the reception.

Evelyn Greyson, the sixtyish director of Obstetric Nursing, stood at the top of the church stairs as I exited. She was dressed in a powder blue suit with a short jacket with peplum and knee-length, fitted skirt. A pearl necklace, her ever-present pearl brooch, and small pearl stud earrings completed the look. Her graying hair was, as usual, in her trademark chignon.

"Beautiful wedding," I said.

"Magnificent," Evelyn replied. "Dr. Whitaker wouldn't have it any other way. See you at the reception, dear." And then she strode off to her car.

Evelyn always agreed with everything Dr. Whitaker said and did. She worshipped him. Did she also have an unrequited crush on him?

I quickly greeted a few colleagues but didn't linger because I wanted to see how Will was doing.

The Country Club was buzzing with activity when I drove through the porte cochère, pulled up to the main entrance, and handed my keys to a valet. The grand foyer was glittering with hundreds of candles and still more massive floral arrangements in blush pink. A string quartet played Pachelbel's "Canon in D" beside the grand staircase.

Out on the veranda, the wedding party was taking pictures before an expanse of green lawn and brilliant blue sky and sea. It would be a wedding album worthy of its own issue of Town & Country.

Large silver serving trays were circulated among the guests, offering tiny crab cakes topped with dill aioli, mini beef Wellingtons, smoked salmon pinwheels, and tomato and goat cheese on toast points. There were massive silver bowls of fresh shrimp on ice on round marble tables.

"Maeve! Maeve! Over here!" one of the midwives called. Looking around the ballroom, which held table settings for six hundred guests, I saw that the Creighton Memorial staff was on the right side of the room while family and friends were on the left. I waved to the midwives but walked over to the table where Grand, Will's grandmother, was sitting with Will's parents, Will's sister, Eloise, her husband, Taylor, and Will's younger brother, Teddy.

"Hello, Maeve." William stood and extended his hand. Never a hug, never a kiss on the cheek, just a handshake.

"Hello, so nice to see you all," I replied, shaking his hand as I nodded to the table. I saw that Lydia, my mother-in-law, was outfitted in a mint green silk cocktail dress with a large diamond necklace and matching drop earrings. She tilted her head toward me and smiled but said nothing.

"The Country Club is such a perfect wedding venue," I offered.

"Quite lovely," she replied.

"You look beautiful, Maeve," Grand said.

"Thanks, Grand."

"Sweet dress," Lydia said.

Sweet dress? What, am I five years old? Lydia was a master of the backhanded compliment, and she was not my biggest fan. Keep it together, Maeve.

Eloise was in a sleeveless, pale green and cream striped dress with an emerald and diamond pendant and earrings. Like mother, like daughter.

"Well," I said, "enjoy the meal. Will has been creating a masterpiece." I saw William's and Lydia's smiles tighten. They did not respond. They were not pleased with Will's chosen profession.

"I can't wait," Grand said.

I gave a little wave and headed over to find my table.

Scanning the room, I saw my sister, Meg, cross her eyes and raise her wine glass in a mock salute. Meg was the Langford real estate agent of choice for the wealthy and had been invited along with other top business leaders of the town. She knew I had just navigated a minefield with my emotionally distant in-laws. As soon as I reached my table, I quickly sat down and took a long drink of chardonnay.

Herend Chinese Bouquet china in pink, Gorham Newport Scroll sterling, and Baccarat crystal decorated each setting.

My gosh, they'll have to pat everyone down before they leave.

Murray Alfond, the famed orchestra leader, turned on his mic and said, "Please be seated while the bridal party arrives."

There was sustained applause as Charlotte and Brooks triumphantly paraded into the ballroom. "The bride and groom will dance to a classic personally chosen by Brooks," Alfond announced.

"The Very Thought of You" wafted through the room as Charlotte and Brooks took to the floor. They obviously had attended many ballroom dancing classes in preparation for this moment, and they danced impeccably.

Then the entire wedding party sashayed to "Fly Me to the Moon." It was like watching La La Land. They were all perfectly coiffed, dressed, and ready for filming. Plus, they could dance.

When they were done and returned to their seats, Alfond intoned, "Please bow your heads while Reverend Lucas Mathers says grace."

The Episcopal pastor of St. Andrew's, Reverend Mathers, was slightly rotund with flushed pink cheeks. He ran his hand through receding black hair, obviously feeling the weight of this moment. Then he bowed his head.

"Dear Holy Father, thank you for this glorious day! What a wonderful celebration! We ask you to bless Charlotte and Brooks, as well as their families and friends, and we beseech you to grant this special couple a life together that is happy and blessed. We further ask you to bless this fabulous repast and grant your blessings on all present. Amen."

Gee, that was short. He must be hungry.

A phalanx of waiters served the first course of spring green and white asparagus spears with shaved red onion. As we started in on the delicate vegetables, the best man, Ry Farmington, took the microphone and asked all to raise their glasses in a toast to the couple.

"Brooks has been like a brother to me since our first day at Hollis in Harvard Yard. We've seen many adventures together—none of which, out of respect for your patience and his reputation, I will go into here."

He paused for applause and a few knowing hoots.

"In the words of the Bard,
No sooner met but they looked;
No sooner looked but they loved;
No sooner loved but they sighed;
No sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason;
No sooner knew the reason, but they sought the remedy;
And in these degrees have made a pair of stairs to marriage

Please rise and toast to their lives together."

Six hundred guests rose and toasted the couple.

Then came truffle-scented tenderloin with dauphinoise potatoes and tender baby carrots. I snuck a look first at the Whitaker table and then at William and Lydia. They all seemed to be enjoying the meal, and I prayed that all the reviews would be excellent.

For dessert, a chocolate mousse with a crème brûlée center was placed at each setting. I knew the wedding cake would be cut and served later.

Just then, the wait staff re-entered the room. They set a Baccarat champagne flute filled with pink champagne at each place. A hush came over the ballroom. Dr. Whitaker was standing at the head table, staring the crowd into silence. Then he picked up his glass and smiled adoringly at Charlotte.

Everyone listened as he gave a long, loving toast to his daughter. Finally, he took a moment to gather his thoughts before saying, "Charlotte, your mother and I found this magnificent champagne in France a few years ago and had it shipped in for your wedding."

Mrs. Whitaker stared at Dr. Whitaker with a huge Miss America smile.

Dr. Whitaker continued, "Would everyone please rise and toast my lovely daughter Charlotte and her husband, Brooks." He lifted his crystal flute to his lips and took a sip while beaming at Charlotte.

Immediately, his cheeks turned scarlet, and he started to wheeze. The crystal dropped from his hand and shattered on the ground. He clutched at his throat while making extensive gasping attempts to pull in a breath. Then he went limp and collapsed to the floor. The room erupted into pandemonium.

***

Excerpt from Murder at the Wedding by Christine Knapp. Copyright 2022 by Christine Knapp. Reproduced with permission from Christine Knapp. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Christine KnappChristine Knapp practiced as a nurse-midwife for many years. A writer of texts and journal articles, she is now thrilled to combine her love of midwifery and mysteries as the author of the Modern Midwife Mysteries. Christine currently narrates books for the visually and print impaired. A dog lover, she lives near Boston.

 

 

 
 
Catch Up With Christine Knapp:

ThoughtfulMidwife.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @cwknapp4478
Instagram - @maevecw
Threads - @maevecw
X - @chriswknapp
Facebook - @Christine Whelan Knapp
TikTok - @maevecw

 

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