Crushed

Mystery Lovers Celebrate!

May 3, 2016 By Barbara Leave a Comment

In celebration of the May 22nd release of MUCH ADO ABOUT MURDER (book #2 in The Double Barrel Mysteries) I have two great deals for you this week!

Now Thru May 6th, get two great books for sooooooo little!

CRUSHED is #Free everywhere right now! (and) ROADKILL is just $1.99 at Amazon!

Kobo Kindle Nook iTunes Smashwords Kindle

Don’t forget to PreOrder MUCH ADO ABOUT MURDER now! Use the links below:

Nook iTunes Kobo Smashwords kindle

Thanks for stopping!

Barbara

SAVOR the moment

October 4, 2013 By Barbara Leave a Comment

SAVOR, the 3rd Fredrickson Winery Novel, is now available in paperback and ebook at most online stores. The last two posts here and here are excerpts from the first two winery novels, Entangled and Crushed. So if you missed them, you can catch up today.

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Savor the moment, cause it just might be your last…

Newly married, Billie and Handel find themselves knee-deep in another mystery. Defending awealthy San Francisco businessman against capital murder charges, Handel soon discovers that media attention brings more than fame and fortune. When Billie’s life is threatened, he believes it’s connected to the case, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.

Across the vineyard, Margaret has problems of her own. Davy’s Italian grandfather is in town and starts right in where his son left off. Throwing the weight of his money around, he intends to prove that Davy would be better off living with him in Italy. To complicate things further, Billie and Adam’s mom flies in from Minnesota and starts dating the man who is making Margaret’s life miserable.

~~~Now here is an excerpt of SAVOR. Enjoy!~~~

Margaret closed her eyes and tried to feel relaxed and confident as Carl had instructed, but at the sound of an unfamiliar voice booming behind the closed kitchen door she jumped. Her eyes flew open as a handsome, distinguished looking man pushed through the doors following Carl into the dining room.

Edoardo Salvatore wore a charcoal suit with a white shirt and slate blue tie. He was taller than his son, and broader through the shoulders. He must have been nearing sixty, but his hair was still dark and thick with just a sprinkling of grey. Of course that could have been the work of a talented hairdresser.

His eyes held hers as he approached, his gaze icy cold. But at Carl’s introduction, he took her hand and was all suave charm and kind words. She thought perhaps it was those pale blue eyes beneath dark lashes that made her think of ice. Agosto’s eyes had been so dark they were almost black. He must have taken after his mother in that regard.

“Ms. Parker,” he said, holding her hand a bit longer than necessary. “My son always did attract the most beautiful women.”

Carl clasped his uncle’s shoulder. “Please have a seat, Uncle. I’ll bring a bottle of wine.” He gave Margaret a reassuring smile and hurried off.

Edoardo Salvatore took the chair across from her, straightening his jacket as he did. “So, we finally meet,” he said, his eyes resting somewhere south of her chin for long seconds making her decidedly uncomfortable. “Agosto should have brought you home to Italia years ago. He always was a playboy, unwilling to compromise his enjoyment for a wife and children. He refused to see the bigger picture.” He sighed and lifted his shoulders in an expressive shrug. “Without heirs, we work for nothing. Sons are the future. They are our legacy.”

Margaret thought about all the hurtful things Agosto had said before he deserted her and his unborn son all those years ago. He was more than just a playboy; he was a cruel, heartless bastard. He thought the world revolved around his needs and everyone should fall into line and enjoy being used. They certainly shouldn’t expect anything in return. She squeezed her hands together nervously in her lap, fearful of saying something to offend this man, but not willing to let him roll right over her and Davy like a freight train. As the saying goes, the apple never falls far from the tree.

“Mr. Salvatore, I hope you won’t consider me rude, but as a single mother I do have responsibilities and a full-time job. May I be direct? What is it that you want?”

~~~

Purchase SAVOR: Amazon Apple iBookstore Barnes & Noble

There is also a Goodreads giveaway going on right now! Enter for your chance to win a paperback of SAVOR

~~~

Thanks for stopping!

Barbara

Harvest in Napa: CRUSHED

October 2, 2013 By Barbara Leave a Comment

Continuing the celebration for the release of SAVOR, I have an excerpt for you from the 2nd Fredrickson Winery Novel: CRUSHED

Enjoy!

“I can’t believe you’re really here.” Billie released Adam from a rib-crushing embrace. She motioned him into the house and watched as he hefted his bag. “You brought your guitar? You must be planning a long visit.” Her brows drew together in a little frown.

Adam grinned to hide his uneasiness. “Sure, why not? I’m out of school, looking for my path in life. I might as well search in California as well as Minnesota.”

“I thought you already had a job offer.” The reprimand in her voice was obvious but instead of waiting for a reply she closed the door and led him through the house, down a hallway into a guest room.

A tall four-poster dwarfed the space, but the painting at the head of the bed immediately grabbed his attention. The surreal vision of vibrant colors fighting one another to dominate the canvas was almost more than he could take in. Billie was right when she told him her uncle was exorcising personal demons with his art.

“Uncle Jack’s work?” He dropped the bags and stepped around his sister to get a better look. “I thought you auctioned them off or something.”

She shrugged and lifted her chin. “I kept a couple. It seemed wrong to sell all of them. He was our uncle, after all. Besides, I see them in a different light now.”

“Really? In a dark room with a dim flashlight?”

She smacked his shoulder. “Same little smart aleck you always were,” she said, her voice light with laughter. “Are you hungry?”

He nodded and followed her to the kitchen.

“What did Mother say about you flying out here?” She pulled leftovers from the refrigerator; chicken breast, wild rice, and broccoli materialized from containers. She lifted a carton of milk. “Seems funny she didn’t call me.”

Adam scratched at the stubble along his cheek. “That’s cause I didn’t mention it to her.”

She looked up from her preparations, amusement flickering in the depths of her eyes.

“She’d just try to talk me out of it. You know how she is.”

Billie bit at her bottom lip, a longtime habit since she was a kid, and slipped the plate of food into the microwave. “Haven’t learned how to deal with Mother yet without running away?” she asked. She turned to face him as they waited for the food to heat.

“Hey! I’m not the one who moved to California,” he reminded her.

“I didn’t move here to get away from Mother. That was a bonus.” She smiled smugly.

“I’m going to tell her you said that,” he threatened, and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket.

She laughed and shook her head, unafraid as ever. “No you won’t. Cause then she’ll know where you are.”

“You’re right. I’d rather be sucked into quicksand than have that conversation now. I’m too tired and hungry to deal with thirty questions.” He sat at the butcher-block table, and propped his head on his hand. “You aren’t going to quiz me, are you?”

“Not tonight,” she said as she set the plate before him. “Maybe tomorrow.” She watched him eat with obvious sibling affection.

~~~

Purchase links for Amazon: ENTANGLED CRUSHED SAVOR

Purchase links for Barnes & Noble: ENTANGLED CRUSHED SAVOR

Available at most online stores.

There is also a Goodreads giveaway going on right now! Enter for your chance to win a paperback of SAVOR

~~~

Thanks for stopping!

Barbara

Rescue Me!

July 16, 2012 By Barbara 1 Comment

This topic has been on my mind ever since I went to the store and found myself stuck in neutral in an aisle with around four billion (give or take) choices of skincare products.

If you have a nose and find it itching often, it isn’t hard to choose unscented over floral, ocean breeze, sport, powder fresh, or citrusy. Although, I am very intrigued by the smell of “sport.” Would that be sweat with a lemon tang, the smell of a soccer ball, or the odor of da’feet?

Anyway…besides all the scented selections, you have to decide on how moist you want your skin to be. I know some people, myself included, really don’t like the word moist. I don’t know why. It just sort of creeps me out. So, I would like to use the word, rescued. How rescued do you want your skin to be?

The brand that starts with a V has a line of lotions that begins with “regular” and ends somewhere around “intensive.”

Years ago they only had one product. It was just called – lotion. Now they have a whole selection of different color bottles, and different degrees of rescue.

Repairing moisture boasts that it boosts moisture levels by 300 percent. I don’t know how you measure that, but at my age “repair” sounds good so I threw it in the cart.

There is also a lotion “with benefits.” (not those kind) Aloe Fresh says it sooths your skin with aloe and cucumber. Well, sometimes my skin feels pretty tense and unhappy with the years I’ve put on it, so I tossed one of them in the cart too.

Cocoa Radiance evens skin tone and leaves it smooth & supple. Definitely need some of that.

Men’s Cooling Hydration. Packaged just for men, it has a “cool,” dark blue, manly container that men should find more appealing than cucumber. Now if they just combined it with sport scent I’m sure it would be a best seller. Men love the smell of locker rooms at half-time. But I don’t, so I passed.

Trying to rescue my skin is turning out to be quite an investment. If I’d known in my twenties what I know now I would have started a rehydration savings account.

Barbara

Barbara Ellen Brink

Barbara lives in MN, and is the author of Entangled, Crushed, Split Sense (2011 Grace Award Winner), Alias Black Raven, and Running Home.

Independent & Proud of It!

July 3, 2012 By Barbara Leave a Comment

This summer is popping by like a string of firecrackers, the days hot and quickly gone. I don’t know what happened to June. The last thing I remember was thinking I would get a lot of writing done… More thinking got done than writing, but I’m sure July will be more productive. At least, that’s my hope.

Tomorrow is the country’s big day. Independence Day, or the Fourth of July as most people think of it these days, is usually filled with grilling, picnicking, parades, and watching fireworks explode in the night sky. It’s a celebration commemorating the Declaration of Independence from the tyranny of Great Britian. Take that – you red-coated English poppycocks!

We have other forms of tyranny to contend with in this decade, but Americans are still much the same. Independent. We don’t like anyone telling us what to do, how to think, what to eat, what to believe, or where our money should go.

In fact, I don’t even like the dentist telling me I should floss daily. Sometimes in defiance, I only do it once or twice a week.

We certainly don’t like anyone forcing us to drink tea. Americans are tougher than that. We drink coffee…black and strong. And if anyone says any differently, they can just go to London!

Americans shoot off fireworks because…well, we really like explosions. I’m pretty sure Hollywood has some kind of clause in their movie contracts that say, “there must be at least four explosions in every theatrical release to keep the film from being a complete bomb.” And yet…many are still bombs. Go figure.

Actually there are other reasons for shooting off fireworks on the 4th but the younger generation might not remember them. I didn’t actually live back in the day when we fought for independence from the King of England (shocking, isn’t it) but I often get a little choked up singing, “The Star Spangled Banner,” written by Francis Scott Key in 1814. I also think it’s pretty funny that they set his words to a popular British tune. Kind of like thumbing our noses at the King every time we sing it.

O say can you see by the dawn’s early light,

 What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming, 

Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,

 O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming? 

And the rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air, 

Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there; 

O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave,

 O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?  

It gives you a little tingle up the spine, doesn’t it?

Happy 4^th of July! See you at the local fireworks show!

Barbara

Barbara Ellen Brink, Novelist

Author of: Entangled, Crushed, Split Sense, Running Home & Alias Black Raven

Photo purchased at Fotolia.cm

Lights, Wipers, and Smart Glasses

June 27, 2012 By Barbara Leave a Comment

I was driving home from Nebraska the other night when suddenly the skies grew dark and rain began to pour down. I flipped on the wipers and continued on my way, hoping to avoid an incident of hail damage to my fairly new car. There was no hail, but the rain grew heavier and heavier and pretty soon visibility shortened considerably.

Traffic that had been traveling at the brisk pace of 70mph or so, quickly slowed to under 40mph. Still determined to reach home within my normal six-hour time frame, I pressed on. But as the weather grew wilder, fellow drivers grew stupider.

Apparently, they didn’t have on their smart glasses like I did, because as I tried to pass in the “passing lane” (the left lane, for those unfamiliar with the term) other drivers began to hug the center line and even embrace it in a full straddle as though their car might at any minute be swept from the highway and thrown into the sea.

Point of fact: As many of you know, Minnesota is no where near the coast.

Other drivers refused to leave the passing lane and move to the “slow lane” (right lane reserved for those going slower than other traffic and/or under the speed limit), even though they were blocking traffic and potentially in a position to be rear-ended due to lack of visibility, and the fact that many failed to put their lights on.

In the past I’ve actually been in worse weather on my motorcycle. Not something I’d like to relive, but I did survive. Hands down it was much wetter and more uncomfortable than riding in an air-conditioned vehicle with radio, cell phone, and seat warmers at hand. Even riding motorcycles with 60 mile an hour gusts nearly blowing us over, we managed to stay in our own lane. So I kind of, sort of, expected the same from big, heavy, rain-protected cars that aren’t blown about quite so easily.

Finding that many drivers who were not adhering to customary rules of driving etiquette, and afraid that they would at any second stop abruptly in front of me, I decided to get off and sit for a while. I pulled off on an exit with a McDonald’s and sat in the parking lot watching dozens of cars pass through the fast food drive-through like squirrels stocking up for winter–or Noah stocking up for the flood.

Before I left, an ambulance showed up for someone. I wasn’t sure if the stress of driving in the storm caught up with them or a chicken McNugget was somehow the culprit, but when I continued on toward home I passed another McDonald’s and there was another ambulance with lights flashing.

So now we know. Avoid the big M when traveling. And if you can’t drive in the rain… move to Nevada. It’s closer to the ocean.

Barbara

Barbara Ellen Brink, Novelist

Author of: Entangled, Crushed, Split Sense, Running Home & Alias Black Raven

Mystery Lovers Celebrate!

SAVOR the moment

Harvest in Napa: CRUSHED

Rescue Me!

Independent & Proud of It!

Lights, Wipers, and Smart Glasses

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Crushed

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