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Entangled

Groundhogs, Valentines, & Dead Presidents

February 9, 2022 By Barbara 4 Comments

February is the deepfreeze month stuck between New Year’s and the March of Leprechauns. Although the shortest of months, it has three auspicious days of note.

Groundhog Day leads the way on the 2nd! This is the day big fat rodents determine the length of our suffering in cold and darkness. Not strange at all, right? Apparently, Pennsylvania and Nova Scotia are the main areas where this weather forecasting animal is used, but regardless of its superstitious origin, someone managed to get this bizarre date included on the national calendar. Having their own day must really puff those little diggers up. I bet from their exalted status, they look down upon all the moles, voles, prairie dogs, and gerbils with utter disdain.

On the 14th, February is suddenly all about romance and love, full of chocolate hearts, flowers, and insanely priced cards. Some people claim Valentine’s Day is a made-up holiday, as though a day to celebrate rodents is completely legitimate but a day to celebrate the one you love is a government conspiracy.

And finally on the 21st, we have President’s Day. I’m old enough to remember it being called George Washington’s Birthday, but apparently it became a birthday celebration for George and Lincoln ( who both had February birthdays) and then finally in the 1970s was officially changed to President’s Day. Probably because the other dead presidents felt slighted. Or more likely, the live ones did.

In Minnesota, February is basically the beginning of our second winter. We get about 4 days of above freezing and then we’re back to black-ice, frost-bite, and a drop in crime as all the criminals head south.

With winter feeling extra long this year and February being a tri-celebration month, I am gifting a book for you! From my own experience, cold months are great reading months! So…

February 11th-28th, ENTANGLED (A Fredrickson Winery Novel) will be FREE at all online stores! Pick up a copy if you haven’t read it yet, and tell your book-loving friends and family members to download a copy too!

Get it here> ENTANGLED

Thanks for stopping! Leave a comment and tell us which February holiday you enjoy celebrating the most, or do you have another one I don’t know about??

Barbara

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Barbara Ellen Brink, Entangled, fiction, Free book, Groundhogs, mystery, Presidents Day, ValentinesDay

A Sweet Deal for Halloween!

October 26, 2013 By Barbara Leave a Comment

Entangled is the 1st novel in my Fredrickson Winery series. To help you get caught up on the happenings in Napa, you can pick it up for only 99¢ for the next few days. Get your copy now and fall in love with Billie, Handel and the whole gang at Fredrickson’s!

entangledfrontcover2013

 

ENTANGLED

 

A Minneapolis attorney inherits a small California winery, reawakening memories that have lain dormant for twenty years. Secrets lie buried beneath Fredrickson Winery’s innocent facade and Billie intends to get to the root. But disturbing the past lays bare the skeletons of others, including her mother’s. Can she live with the consequences of full disclosure or will she run home where everyone is Minnesota nice?

Purchase Entangled 

Amazon  Kobo  iTunes  Smashwords

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Savorcovertiny

 

 

~~~

Happy Reading!

Barbara

Barbara is the author of 9 novels. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
Barbara is the author of 9 novels. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Entangled, Fredrickson Winery Novels, mystery, Napa, sale, wine, womensfic

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

Barbara is the author of 9 novels. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
Barbara is the author of 9 novels. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.

 

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Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Barbara Ellen Brink, Crushed, Entangled, excerpt, fiction, FredricksonWineryNovel, mystery, Napa valley, new release, Savor, wine

Revisiting Entangled

September 30, 2013 By Barbara Leave a Comment

In celebration of the release of the third Fredrickson Winery Novel this week, I’m revisiting the first two novels in the series. Today I have an excerpt for you from ENTANGLED. 

Enjoy! entangledfrontcover2013

Dreams of shadows hovering over me stole the restfulness from my sleep, and I woke still tired and irritable. I got up and moved about the room, admiring the view from my window, and taking a closer look at the artwork on the walls. In here too was an assortment of paintings, abstract and bold in composition, frightening in intensity. I didn’t like them and blamed the room’s heightened atmosphere for my less than adequate nap. I promised myself that I would take them down and store them in the back of the closet before I slept in here again.

I stole into my mother’s room and saw that she was still sleeping, a little mascara smudged beneath her eyes, but her hair quite perfect in its protective shell of spray. Mother was one of those people who always woke fresh as a spring flower, happy and talkative. When I woke, no matter how long I slept or how still I lay, I always looked like Attila the Hun after a night of pillaging and mayhem.

The sound of a child singing wafted through the open window, and I tiptoed past the bed where Mother slept to lift a slat of the closed blinds and peer out. Our rooms were situated at the back of the house where the view of the vineyards was obscured by dozens of full-grown oak, redwood, and eucalyptus trees. A small boy of about six was sitting in a tire swing, suspended from the branch of a tall oak. He pushed his bare feet against the ground for momentum as he sang at the top of his voice.

“Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys…”

I watched him for a moment, a smile on my lips, as he swung higher and higher, his voice floating up into the branches of the trees. Suddenly I felt a shiver run down my spine as the scene changed and I imagined myself as a little girl sitting in that tire, swinging back and forth, back and forth, like the pendulum on a clock, unable to stop or get off.

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. What was wrong with me? I wasn’t remembering this place, that swing, the week I spent here as a child. I blew out a breath of exasperation, realizing my imagination was working overtime. My father had hung a tire from a large maple tree in our yard in Minneapolis when I was seven. That’s what I remembered. I’d fallen out of the thing one time and broke my arm. I turned away from the window and silently exited into the hall, closing the door behind me.

Exploring the house alone was like rummaging through a stranger’s underwear drawer. I felt strangely voyeuristic. I knew it would all belong to me eventually, once the paperwork went through, but I didn’t necessarily relish the idea. Inheriting “holdings” was one thing, but becoming the proud owner of someone else’s toilet brush, kitchenware, and music collection was quite another. I made a mental note to schedule a yard sale as soon as possible.

The kitchen door opened into the backyard, and I went out in search of the boy. Was he one of the field worker’s sons or a neighbor child wandering aimlessly, looking for entertainment in the long afternoon? I followed a path of stepping-stones through the trees to the back section of the house where I’d seen him swinging. The tire hung empty now, but still moved gently with the breeze as though a ghostly hand were in control. I stood there a moment, straining for the sound of his voice in the distance, but there was nothing but the creak of the branches above me and the rattle of leaves in the wind.

I walked toward the front of the house, following the flagstone path back past the kitchen windows and on around to the garage. Rose bushes climbed a trellis along the outside wall, reaching for the sun, their blooms a deep, startling red against the pale brick. I picked one and held it beneath my nose, breathing in the heavy, sweet fragrance that I loved, enjoying the touch of the delicate petals against my skin.

“I see you’re making yourself at home.”

Handel’s caustic voice brought me out of my mellow mood and straight into defensive mode. “You startled me.”

“Sorry,” he said, stepping closer. He’d changed clothes at some point. Now wearing khaki slacks, a pale blue polo shirt, and a dark blue sport-jacket, his hair combed straight back from his forehead; he looked like a model for a sailing magazine. “Did you find everything to your satisfaction?” he asked.

I met his gaze, my eyes narrowed against the setting sun, and nodded politely the way I’d been raised to. My mother would be so proud. “Yes, thank you.”

“Well, if you and your mother are interested I could give you a tour of the winery before dinner.”

“My mother is sleeping. Traveling always wears her out. But I’d be interested, if it’s not a bother,” I said, giving him my brightest smile. Perhaps the old adage was true, you caught more flies with honey. Not that I wanted to catch him. I just wanted to be treated with respect, and ironically, also admired for my long legs.

“No bother. Most of the employees have gone for the evening. You won’t be in the way now,” he said, as though my presence earlier would have set back wine production indefinitely. “Shall we go?”

I breathed in the heady fragrance of the rose bushes once more before following Handel Parker toward the winery.

~~~

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

Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled, Crushed & Savor, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.
Barbara is the author of the Fredrickson Winery novels, Entangled, Crushed & Savor, the award winning thriller, Split Sense, and Christian suspense novels, Running Home and Alias Raven Black. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and two lovable mutts.

 

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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.

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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 4th 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

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Split Sense

Split Sense

When a senator and pharmaceutical giant partner to experiment with a new drug on pregnant women, they tap into a world they never knew existed – the supernatural touching the natural – and it will cost the innocent more than they know. Grace Awards Winner!

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