Here is the latest review for SINCE ALL IS PASSING. It's an amazing review, and I'm delighted to share it with you all.

The reviewer also gave it a Reviewer's Top Pick Award:

Please check it out!

LADY OF THE TWO LANDS is a winner!

Great news: LADY OF THE TWO LANDS has won first place in its category in the Affaire de Coeur cover art contest!

Here's the cover:

Isn't it gorgeous, and absolutely deserving of the award?
And here's the ribbon attesting to it!
The cover art is by talented artist Cora of Cora Graphics
Absolutely made my day!


By Elizabeth Delisi
Tirgearr Publishing

One minute, Hattie Williams is in a museum, sketching Hatshepsut's gold necklace, the first female Pharaoh of Egypt; and the next, she's sent back in time to ancient Egypt.

Soon, Hattie learns three things: She's become Hatshepsut; the heir to the throne wants her dead; and she's falling hopelessly in love with Senemut, Hetshepsut's steward.

What's an obscure artist from Chicago to do when she's crowned ruler of all Egypt?

Pre-order your copy today for just 99c/99p on Amazon:

All pre-orders delivered automatically on Friday, 24th of June. The sale runs through Sunday, 26th of June.


Oh my goodness, something wonderful has happened. Will Hughes, an amazing Voice Over artist, has produced a narrated excerpt of my book SINCE ALL IS PASSING. It gives me shivers just to listen to it.

Please take a few minutes to check it out yourself:

Awesome, isn't it?

If this intrigues you, you can get your own copy of SINCE ALL IS PASSING in various formats here:

Since All is Passing Available for Pre-Order!

SINCE ALL IS PASSING is available for pre-order from now through May 18, for the bargain price of 99 cents! Get your copy now, while the sale price is in effect.

When Marie Kenning witnesses the kidnapping of a child, she relives the horror of the death of her own child and husband.

Officer Chris Whitley takes on the case—and an interest in Marie—but evidence quickly indicates the child is dead.

Days later, Marie stumbles across the kidnapper and his very-much-alive victim. Unable to convince the man she loves of the truth, Marie sets out alone on a dangerous cross-country mission to save the child.


October, 1982
Marie Kenning hummed, her eyes half closed as her husband, John, maneuvered the car along the damp, curving road. The sun was setting. The headlights made little impact in the fog and swirling leaves, but the melancholy October weather didn’t dim her spirits in the least. Marie was six months pregnant; she and John were on their way to their first childbirth class.

“What are you humming, honey?” John asked. “Sure sounds pretty.”

“‘Brahms’ Lullaby,’” Marie said. “My mother sang it to me every night, and now I’m singing it to our baby.”

John laughed. “Don’t you think it’s a little early for lullabies? You’re not due for almost three months. Or are you just getting in some practice?”

“Actually, it’s not too early at all, I read an article saying that babies recognize music played to them before they were born. So I’m giving our child a head start.” She patted her stomach. “Maybe he’ll grow up to be a musician.”

John covered her hand with his. “Maybe he will. But he’s already the luckiest baby in the world to have you for a mother.”

“Or could it be a girl?” Marie teased, closing her eyes again. She was impatient to hold their baby, boy or girl, in her arms. Even more, she couldn’t wait to see John cradle the child, protecting it as he’d always protected her.

Her pleasant train of thought was broken when John jerked his hand away from hers. “What the…?” he muttered.

Marie’s eyes flew open, and she stared out the windshield. A pair of headlights, set on blinding high beams, came straight at them. “Look out!” she gasped, jamming her right foot against the passenger side floor and grabbing the armrest on the door.

John jerked the car to the right and slammed his foot down on the brake pedal. The car spun on the wet, leaf-strewn road, twisting from side to side. He struggled to regain control.

Time diminished to a crawl. Marie watched everything in bizarre slow motion—the merciless headlights bearing down on them, John’s contorted features as he wrestled with the steering wheel, the deafening impact, the flying glass. The howl of tortured metal and squealing rubber was unbearable. Marie blacked out.

When she regained consciousness, it was silent—ominously silent. How much time had passed? Marie felt warm blood trickling down her face, but she didn’t have any pain—yet. She turned her head slowly to look at John. His head hung low, his eyes closed. A thin stream of blood, black in the waning light, ran down his right temple. The steering wheel, pressed against his chest, and the shoulder belt appeared to be the only things holding him upright. His hair and clothing were coated with pebbles of broken safety glass that glittered in the fading light of dusk. Panic gripped her at the sight of his pale, still face. How long had she been out?

Marie whispered, her voice trembling, “John? Honey, are you all right? Can you hear me?”

He didn’t answer.

She reached out to touch him, but a sudden sharp pain in her left side, just under her shoulder belt, stopped her. Releasing the buckle, she probed the tender area. Pain blossomed again. Her dazed senses told her she probably had a broken rib.

Moving with care, Marie touched John’s arm. He didn’t respond, gave no sign of life. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing. Frightened, she pushed him harder. He slumped away from her in the seat like a rag doll. His head hit the side window with a loud crack.

“John!” she cried. “Wake up!” She shook his arm.

A fierce new pain slashed across her abdomen. It lasted only a few seconds, but it left her gasping for breath and covered with a fine sheen of sweat. Although this was her first pregnancy, Marie instinctively knew she had just felt a labor contraction.

“My God,” she moaned, tears sliding down her cheeks. “What am I going to do? I can’t lose John—I can’t live without him. And I can’t lose our baby! What am I going to do?”

In the distance Marie heard the wail of an approaching siren. Clutching John’s sleeve as though her grip alone could keep him with her, she closed her eyes and prayed, willing her husband and her baby to hold on.

Practical Passion Available for Pre-Order

PRACTICAL PASSION is available for pre-order from now to April 21, for the bargain price of just 99 cents! Get your copy while it's on sale.

Practical Passion

Julie Preston worked hard raising her younger sister, Emily, after their parents died, and creating a career. She gave up simple pleasures like love and relationships. So when a friend drags her to a singles bar, Julie’s ready for anything. She meets a gorgeous guy and they spend several passionate hours together. There’s real chemistry there, but Julie regretfully sticks to her promise: a one-night stand, no strings.

When Julie hires a tutor to help Emily pass English, she’s shocked to find Douglas Dean is the man from the bar. Seeing him in her house makes it hard to keep her hands off him, but he isn’t looking for a long-term relationship since he’s a singles bar patron. Right?

How many miles can Julie jog before she gives in and jumps him?


Tanya glanced over her shoulder in the direction Julie was staring, then turned back and kicked Julie’s shin under the table. “Close your mouth,” she hissed, tapping her chin with the back of her fingers for emphasis. “You look ridiculous.”

Julie snapped her mouth shut and swallowed, disgusted with herself. She was all but drooling, for heaven’s sake. Had it really been so long since she’d been paid any attention? She smoothed her long brunette hair with a trembling hand and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. He was just a man. A good-looking one, but just a man. A man she’d like to eat for breakfast…

“Hello, ladies,” the man said, smiling down on them. His voice was deep, resonant and luscious. “My name is Stephen. And you are?”

“Marie,” Tanya said, delivering another kick under the table. “I’m Marie, and my friend is Anne.”

Julie and Tanya had agreed to use only their middle names if they met anyone promising. “There’ll be no complications that way,” Tanya had assured her. “You can have a one-night stand if you want, and the next day it’ll be as if it never happened. No way for the guy to track you down and cause an embarrassing incident.”

“Hi, Marie,” Stephen said, shaking Tanya’s hand. Then he took Julie’s hand in both of his. “Pleased to meet you, Anne.”

Julie tried to stifle a gasp. Stephen’s hands were warm, comforting, and yet somehow erotic. His touch shot a lightning bolt of desire straight to her groin. She jerked her hand from his grasp and shook her head, puzzled. Was she really so desperate after a few years of celibacy? Or was there something between them, some instant connection?

“Won’t you have a seat?” Tanya said.

Julie tucked her legs under her chair to avoid the third kick she knew was coming.

“Yes, please do join us,” Julie added. She needed to get her mind back on track and remember her manners if she didn’t want to lose the opportunity to spend some time with the best-looking guy in the place.

“Thanks, I’d like that,” Stephen said, and dropped into a chair between the two of them. Julie shivered as she caught a whiff of his spicy aftershave. He smelled like heaven.

“Why don’t you two get to know each other?” Tanya said with a wave of her bangled arm. “I have to visit the little girls’ room and powder my nose.” She rose and left the table, winking at Julie when Stephen wasn’t looking. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Julie groaned. What wouldn’t Tanya do? She turned to Stephen. “So, Stephen…um…are you from around here?”

“Yup, I am.” He grinned at her and her heart pounded. “You?”

“Yes. No. Well, I’m from around here, but not right here. I live…over there.” She pointed west and floundered to a stop as warmth crept up her cheeks. Lord, she was babbling like a fool. “Would you…um…like a drink?”

He shook his head. “I’ve had one and I’m not ready for another. What I’d really like now is to dance with you. Shall we?” He gestured to the crowded dance floor.

Julie looked at the bar patrons moving to the music. The band was playing a fast-paced eighties disco number, and the couples were so far apart, it was hard to tell who was dancing with whom. “Sure,” she said. “Let’s dance.” It seemed harmless enough—safer than more alcohol. She was already making an idiot of herself.

She let Stephen take her hand, steeling herself to avoid reacting to his touch, and he led her out onto the dance floor.

No sooner had they reached a small open spot than the band began to play a slow, sensual love song. Stephen opened his arms and waited for her to step into them, a sexy smile on his handsome face.

Julie was stuck. She couldn’t very well back out of their dance now, after she’d accepted his invitation. That would be rude. She stepped closer, and he pulled her to him, moving in time to the music. She mirrored his moves. He was a fabulous dancer, no question about that.

Her resolve to maintain distance between them weakened, and she allowed her head to rest on his shoulder. He smelled wonderful. His warm, hard body, pressed against hers, felt better than anything she’d ever experienced, his strong arms holding her just tightly enough. He knew how to move, how to hold her, how much pressure to exert to lead her where he wanted her to go. They swayed to the music together, in sync, one. The rest of the world faded away.

Damn. Julie knew she was lost.