FREE eBOOK! Grabs yours today!

You’re all aware mostly that I’m running a book promotion at the moment for my second novel, Charming Mr Stewart. Its free for anyone to download and start reading right away! What better way to take the plunge and discover a new book, or a new writer. Of course I’ll be saying that, right?

Kindle eBook Giveaway: Charming Mr Stewart 

Promotion ends: 3rd December (midnight, US time)

Why don’t you give the story a go? Here’s a little excerpt to get you started, help you in making that decision.

 

Chapter ONE: Too Many Boxes

The medieval-looking wine goblet, with its talons holding the glass vessel, gleamed as Elle slid it into a far corner of the cupboard with a shiver. “Trust Uncle Steve to give such a gift,” she mumbled. She wanted to throw them out, or give them away, but she knew her uncle. It was just a matter of time before he’d ask for wine in those very things. She unwrapped the last of them and slides it next to the other three. They would sit in that dark corner till Elle deleted them from memory.

Hopping off the step ladder, she eyed the disaster zone. Piles of cardboard boxes and countless crinkled newspaper littered the kitchen floor like an aftermath of a badly orchestrated explosion. There were still two more boxes labelled ‘Kitchenware’ to unpack.

It could take her days at the rate she was going. The house was teeming with boxes of various shapes and sizes, itching to be unpacked. For the first time since the move, she wished she’d taken up her mother’s offer to come and help for a few days.  It was almost eleven at night and she’d been working in the kitchen for four hours straight. By God, she was kaput.

“Should you or shouldn’t you, Elle?” She eyed the two untouched boxes and sighed, pulling one to her. “Only two to go.”

An hour later, she didn’t give a hoot about the misaligned glasses unlike most days. She stepped off the ladder, crunched her way through the piles of newspaper, and headed down the corridor to her bedroom, buggered as hell.

Elle relished the silence as she stood before the closed door for a moment. Neighbour’s dogs were having a barking fest, nor were there highway traffic whizzing past. No blaring of sirens, keeping her awake most nights thinking if Blake was in amongst them. Nor would there be any more phones ringing in the middle of the night making her minds rush to all sorts of mishaps.  Not anymore.

The shrill ring of her cell phone startled her then and sent her scrambling into the room, stumbling over a suitcase in the dark.  She dove next to the bed and found her handbag, fishing out her phone with annoyance. “What is wrong with you?” she eyed the figure on the bed that slept undisturbed.

“I was worried. You hadn’t called yet.” Trish asked.

“It’s almost midnight Mother…”

“So you see why I was beginning to panic?!” her mother interrupted. “I wanted to see if you both have settled in okay?”

Elle tiptoed out of the room, pulling the door close behind. “I was a busy unpacking, Mum.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t have all that unpacking to do if you were still here!” Trish fired sarcastically. “Is Maya in bed yet?”

“Sleeping already, Mum, or I hope she still is.”

“Why didn’t you say so in the first place? It’s getting late. I would have called tomorrow.”

Elle leaned against the wall.  “That would be better, Mum.”

“Well, get some sleep then. You’re probably tired. You know, your dad and I still think you shouldn’t have moved away….”

Elle slid all the way to the floor and massaged her temples.  She’d heard this before. Many times in fact.  “Mum, we’ve been over this.”

“Moving her across the world from her family and all…” her mother continued.

“An hour away is not across the world, Mum!” Elle clenched her jaws, holding back her anger.  “Now, will you hang up, or do I have to sit here in my dusty clothes listening to you rant for another hour about the same things? I’m tired.”

“Fine, you always do whatever you want anyway. Goodnight.”

The dial tone beeped in Elle’s ear. She knew her mother; this argument was far from over. She wanted to hurl the phone across the hallway and watch it shatter.  No phone, no one to bug you with constant calls of paranoia and concern. Right? She pushed off the dusty floor.

“I’m only a widow, for God’s sake, not dying of an incurable disease and leaving my child to fend for herself.” She walked back into the bedroom, relieved to hear the soft rumble of Maya’s breathing. She peeled off her dusty, sweaty clothes, grabbed a towel and an oversized shirt from her overnight bag and walked to the bathroom.

She stood for ages in front of the mirror. Her hair dripping, her eyes sunk, her lips a pale pink. The only thing she liked was the shirt. The shirt that was several sized too big for her. She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing it were a pair of strong arms wrapped around her instead, smelling of pine and musk. She’d always liked how Blake had smelt. She sniffed the sleeve, breathing in the scent of him. I miss you.

“Mummy?”

“Yeah hunny?” She called from the bathroom, flicking off the bathroom light and plunging the room into darkness She felt her way to the bed and slithered in.

“Mummy” Maya stirred under the cover.

“I’m here, honey. I’m here.”

“I miss Daddy.”

Elle blinked back the sudden tears that flooded her eyes and kissed Maya’s soft curls. “I miss him too, baby,” she whispered. “Now, get some sleep, baby. It’s late.”

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It’s ALIVE: Free EBook GIVEAWAY

Grab you copy. GO!

Charming Mr Stewart, an easy romantic read about a young widow who has a two year old in tow, and is fighting an urge to decline a great opportunity for her career, in a crazy effort to avoid the extremely charming Mr Stewart. Who just so happens to be someone who won’t take no for an answer.

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It’s available on Kindle, and as of today, till it 8pm Sunday afternoon, 3rd Dec (Aussie time), the book is absolutely FREE. Grab a copy for your self, tell your friends and family who’d love a read to grab a complimentary copy while they can.

Have a best friend who is a hopeless romantic? Know someone who loved Pretty Woman, or Bridget Jones, or couldn’t help feel charmed by Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You? Pass on the word.

I can’t wait to hear how you found it. And that link again for you: https://www.amazon.com/Charming-Mr-Stewart-Eva-Acharya-ebook/dp/B06VV2HGDW

Share the joy. As they say, happiness grows when its shared.

Love,

Eva

 

 

Don’t forget to mark your calendar: Free book giveaway

Don’t forget to mark your calendar: Free book giveaway

On 1-3rd December I’m freely giving away my book on kindle, Charming Mr Stewart, to all you good, gorgeous, and stunning folks out there who love a bit of a read. Perhaps a refreshing romance sitting on your favorite chair in that corner where the light is just right. Or sitting in your favorite chair with your best cup of tea, diving into the alluring world of a single mother trying to find her mojo back. Or silently read in your seat on a crowded train or a bus and drown out the day? 

Sound like you? Well, here it is, not that far away now. Free to download across the world. Know someone in England, Russia, New Guinea, Malta who would love to discover a new romance? Or where ever they maybe in the world? Why not let them know as well. 

In the spirit of the holidays, spread the word, download away and let me wonder in my own corner of the world how you are finding it. 
1-3 December (US time). Charming Mr Stewart on kindle free to anyone! 
Want to read an excerpt? Click here.

Mark the date: Free Book Giveaway Promotion coming your way!

Hello my lovelies,

It’s been a while, I know. Where does the time go, seriously. This year has gotten so busy time-wise that I haven’t had that much time to focus on my blog, and you. Hopefully, with the holiday season fast approaching, that will change. I’m quite looking forward to it to be honest. Have so many plans with my stories! (Writing them, editing them, writing more…) endless!

At least this year I managed to publish my second book on Kindle, Charming Mr Stewart. Have you had a chance to check it out? It’s a bit of a romance, but it’s also about a woman learning to live her life her own way after a tragedy. About a mother who goes from feeling like she doesn’t know how she is raising her kid alone, to a woman empowered and confident in herself and her actions.

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(Image: Cover of Charming Mr Stewart available on Amazon Kindle)

NOTE: Free Kindle eBook giveaway scheduled for 1-3 December 2017 to celebrate the start of the giving season!

Can’t wait for you to grab a copy of it and enjoy reading with your favorite glass of wine and AC blaring cool air at you in the heat, or by a crackling fire if you are somewhere cold. I like to say the book has an air about The Runaway Bride, and a touch of Pretty Woman about it if you love reading love stories about two most unlikely people to fall in love. (Damn, I gave away the story line!) NO, but seriously, if you love your Marian Keyes, and a bit of Nicholas Sparks, then I’m pretty sure you’ll like this.

Some of you have already read my first novel, In Strange Company, and you loved it. The responses I got for it were so overwhelming that they made me emotional. After all, it’s pretty much why most writers write, so to see so many people grabbing a copy of that was very heartfelt moment for me. So here I am, once again, hoping that you will support and love this new book of mine.

A free book giveaway campaign for it will be running from December 1st to December 3rd to celebrate the wonderfully quirky year I’ve had, and to celebrate the beginning of the holiday season and hopefully what will be a beginning of something new and better for everyone. It’s the season for hopes and dreams and those pesky New Year resolutions to be completed and new ones set. This is me, trying to tie up one of my resolutions still outstanding this year… Promote my book, give it some sort of chance to become its own thing, one tiny step at a time.

How many of you struggle to promote you work? Am I the only one that struggles this much and draws a blank? I suck at promoting, and that’s a fact. When I was writing this latest book, I was thinking about pitching it, and would always come up blank.  Pitching is the bane of my existence. It’s the thing that makes my heart race, and my palms sweat because I have no idea how its done, nor what should be the way to approach it. Definitely a skill I have yet to master, but I haven’t done Charming Mr Stewart enough justice. I haven’t pitched it to enough and I feel very guilty, like I’ve neglected a child or something. But no more. Here is one of my resolution come full circle. I published a book, and I have to make an effort to promote it to, one small step at a time.

I hope you’ll join in on the days and grab yourself a free copy of your own to enjoy.  1-3 December. Don’t forget!

You want to read the beginning? You can find the first few chapters here.

Much love!

E

Other-worldly (7)

Somewhere on the other side of the world, in the middle of an arid land was a homestead where no man lived. Here, only three generations of women lived, grandmother, mother, and their 8 year old daughter, Phoenix. These three were the Williams girls. They arrived in the little town in the countryside some eight and a half years ago. No man in sight. Just the two women, the younger of which heavily pregnant. They moved into the homestead an hour out in the middle of nowhere, derelict and rundown. Miles away from any real neighbors. It was crazy to think that such a place was suitable for two women alone, one who was in a delicate situation. But alas, Mary and Eliza proved everyone wrong. Within the month or so, their house looked half decent, repairs here and there. Their land looked less and less wild, and they had adopted several sheep and goats.
Here, in this small house, something extraordinary was about to happen. After all, it wasn’t very often a young girl turned nine, or have the okay from the very private ladies of the house for a party. 
Phoenix had been tasked with making a list of everything they would need for a suitably decked out party. Mary, her mother had said they were heading into town that afternoon for shopping. 
‘Can we buy huge cake?’ She asked, eagerly jotted down ‘big cake’ in her list. 
Mary shook her head, and her lone wooden chopstick looking hair pin moved on top of her hair as she did. Her mother always wore that thing. Never a hair band, never an elastic, forever always with that pin in her bun. Guess some people had their rings and necklaces, and her mum had her hair pin. Phoenix had been so curios as a child once that she’d snuck into her mother’s room at night to see if she even worr it to bed. ‘I’ll make you a cake.’

Phoenix’s brows rose. ‘You don’t know how to bake, mum.’

‘Oh, I don’t? Really?’ 
‘I’ve never even seen you turn the oven on,’ she laughed, brushing aside the used black rubber, the result of her erasing out the ‘big cake’. ‘I think grandma does more cooking than you do.’
Mary eyed her mother, too busy watching some crazy videos of cats that Mary just couldn’t see the humor in. ‘Damn right, I do more cooking.’
‘Well, perhaps either of you would like to go work and bring home money? I’ll gladly exchange lives with either of you.’
‘Don’t be silly, mum. I’m eight.’
‘Well then, remember that next time you complain about my cooking. I can’t do everything around here.’ Mary threw the wet clothes in the laundry basket harshly. ‘Hurry up, Phee, we don’t have all day.’ Just as she said this and picked up the basket, she heard the sound of a bird’s sweet call. She stopped in her tracks and dropped the basket on the dinning table next to Phoenix and pulled the list from her. ‘Go get ready, I’ll finish this off. At this rate the shops will close. You and grandma head off once you’re changed.’
‘What about you?’ Phoenix looked perplexed.
‘I’ll come once I’ve done some cleaning. Meet you there. Maybe we will have dinner out.’
Phoenix’s face lit up and she bounded away, just in time to miss Grandma Eliza wandering over to her mother and the bird chirp to sound again. ‘Haven’t heard that call in a long time.’ She looked worrisome at the younger woman. 
‘It’s The Hallow.’ Mary reached in her pocket and pulled out a thick gold coin, the one that looked exactly like Siyon was carrying in the realm of magic, except, the wings of the bird were flapping in slow motion in this, with the call of the bird getting louder. 
‘What would they want after all the things they’ve done?’ Eliza sneered.
‘I don’t care to talk about the past, Neer, just take her away so I can go talk to them.’
Eliza sneered again. ‘Don’t call me that!’
‘Sorry.’
Eliza snapped at the car keys from the table and the list from her hand before hunching away. ‘Be careful.’
‘Always.’
‘Drive safe.’ She called out, watching the duo wave goodbye and step out. 
It was a moment before Mary pulled the pin from her hair and etched out a rune on the table, the wood singed a little before placing the coin on top. ‘Speak.’
‘Are we clear?’ A gravelly male voice escaped. 
‘Yes. It’s just me.’

Nostalgia: down memory lane

Today I felt like going through some of my old pieces, see what lay there buried in the deep dark and forgotten dusty memories, and I happened upon a poem I wrote 3-4 years ago. It had been one of my favorites back then, and reading over it today, it’s become a favorite again. 
I thought I’d share it with you. Some of you may have read it years ago, but for others, it’s a buried treasure I thought I’d share, this rear day I feel like celebrating some of my pieces, starting with this humble piece, ‘Poem, Yours’.
My love of writing was what inspired it, and I hope somewhere, your own passions starts talking g to you as you read it. 
I give you….
Poem, Yours

Your voice speaks

With written words

Off tea-coloured pages
Visions, images –splashed

With characters

In spreading black ink
Your quill turns

With the slightest whiff

That the scribes are true
Freshness of verse engulfs

And dawn-colour steals across

The neon-blue heavens
Like a lover, your laughter floats out

Through the fibrous tangles

Reaching my longing ears
And I hear…
The paragraph that holds life

Sprinkled here and there

The words of love
You are the very poem

You compose in the twilight

You are my favourite creation.
And I read…
The words, the

Feeling behind the piece…

I read you.

Other-worldly (3)

Balan landed roughly upon the Whispering Reeds, several miles away from his intended target, The Hallow, one of the only few protected sanctuaries of The Keepers of Light left on Earth. He looked up at the waning moon, and sighed. Lucky it wasn’t a full moon. He was smack in the middle of the Southern Wolves territory. Had it been a full moon, he would have been shredded by now. Those nasty little buggers had a habit of hiding in the reeds as they approached the Quaint Town, hunting for those wayward teens out here on their Keeper training.
He felt something slimy and cold slither past his ankle and shivered. ‘Darned Nymphs!’ He dusted off his long leather coat and stomped his feet hard on the ground. The vibration rippling around him for a hundred meters or more, and he could hear the skittering of the beings. ‘That’s right. Keep away. Man on a mission here!’
By dawn, he knocked on the tall, wooden door, carved with centuries of history upon its face. A face whose carvings mysteriously moved up as new events took up space on the bottom. The older the stories, the higher up they went until the door disappeared with the air. Balan looked at the bottom most event, which was the coronation of King Antal, sometime a year ago. No major event had happened since that could change the course of the Veiled World. No event till now that was. He could see a new event beginning to take shape on the very bottom. A story that was vague and murky yet. 

Balan knocked again, harder this time and heard the faint vibrations run up the panel. 

‘Coming!’ A voice boomed from the other side. ‘What’s the impatience? You realize what time it is?’ 
The door swung open and there stood Monk Misser, garbed in nothing more than his pale gray shorts and shirt. It was a freezing morning but that didn’t seem to faze the old man. ‘What do you want Keeper Balan? What’s the meaning of this unholy hour’s visit?’
Balan quickly slipped inside the compound and the door swung closed silently. He always thought that was a weird thing, for a door as heavy and as thick as it was for it to be absolutely silent. 

He bowed to the Monk briskly. ‘Apologies my dear sir, it’s an emergency.’
The Monk stared at him. ‘I am no knight, Balan. And this isn’t the safest hour to be arriving.’
Balan looked around the courtyard they were standing in and a chill ran down his spine. The ancient trees were sleeping and he could hear them breathing. Eeriest sound he’d ever heard. He’d never much liked those trees at night even during his training as The Keeper of Light. 
‘Pardon me, Master Misser, I’ve travelled long to be here, and I would have been here hours ago, but I don’t know why I overshot The Sanctuary and landed at the Whispering Reeds. My compass must be off.’
Monk Misser faintly smiled. ‘So it’s working.’ Balan understood then that other wards must have been put up since his last visit. ‘Myra has been trying to conjure new wards for ages, and she’s been successful it seems in casting a deflection ward.’ He started walking off down the path, to the main entry of the building, and Balan followed. 

‘Though it seems she wasn’t as successful in getting the ward to touch ground, otherwise you’d have never been able to get past the Reeds. I must tell her in the morning.’
Balan quick shuffled behind the surprisingly agile man, whose age must be nearing at least two centuries. 
‘Three,’ Monk Misser corrected as if Balan had said his thoughts aloud. ‘So what’s your emergency? The Keepers don’t normally come to us for help unless it’s for training, illness, or retirement.’
Balan took off his necklace and handed it over to the man as they walked through the main doors. 
‘Your Seeing stone?’ There was a hint of surprise in the Monk’s voice. 
‘I cannot explain what I saw, nor how to report it. Best you watch it for yourself and advise me on the course of action, or even if caution is worthy. Though I doubt that would be the case.’
‘Who brings a Seeing Stone, Misser?’ the head of the Hallow walked out into the ante chamber from his chapel. ‘Ah, Keeper Balan. Long time.’
The man reached out for the stone and ushered the two men into his office further down the chamber. He looked like he’d been up for hours. But then again, Balan had always heard rumors that the Grand Monk did not sleep. He did not need to. 
‘What has you worried Balan?’ He put the stone on his desk in a small crystal abode. 
‘I believe it’s a Black Widow, Master.’
The two monks passed ever so slightly worried looks at each other before the Grand Monk asked them to pull up a chair and sit. 
‘There hasn’t been a Black Widow sighting in centuries.’ He mumbled an incantation and Balan’s stone began glowing a weak green. The Monks stared at it, their eyes flicking minutely as if they were watching something. No doubt the visions Balan had been gathering the last year as he followed the case of Mrs Bigum and her mysterious wealth and her equally mysterious home. 
It seemed a long while before the two men came out of their trance with measured looks.
‘We have a lot to do young, Balan. Send word to your hold. We need as many Keepers as the Red Fort can spare.’
Balan nodded, but his curiosity hadn’t abated. ‘What did you see, Master?’
‘Earth’s doom. Now go! Take the fastest wings and go. We have already lost so much time.’