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Catherine Castle

~ Romance for the Ages

Catherine Castle

Tag Archives: essay about life

Musings from a Writer’s Brain–Silver Sneakers by Anne Montgomery

18 Monday Oct 2021

Posted by Catherine Castle in Blog, books, essay, Guest Authors, Musings from a Writer's Brain, suspsense, women's fiction

≈ Comments Off on Musings from a Writer’s Brain–Silver Sneakers by Anne Montgomery

Tags

aging, Anne Montgomery, essay about life, exercise, Musings from a Writer's Brain, silver sneakers, Suspense fiction, women's fiction

by Anne Montgomery

I have worked out most of my life. I started ice skating at five. I skied and swam. When I was 24, I started officiating sports and called football, baseball, ice hockey, soccer, and basketball games, an avocation I practiced for 40 years. When I was 30, I got my first health club membership and I have had one ever since.

So, I’m a long-time gym rat. I’ve lifted weights, utilized aerobics equipment, and practiced yoga, but I’m primarily a lap swimmer. I mention this because recently I turned the golden corner for those of us who spend time at the gym. The reason? Silver Sneakers.

For the uninformed, Silver Sneakers is a health and fitness program that provides gym access and fitness classes for people 65 and older. It’s covered by some Medicare plans. That means I no longer have to shell out those monthly fees to the health club.

The idea, of course, is to keep old people moving so they’re less likely to succumb to problems like heart disease, broken bones from falls, high-blood pressure, diabetes, cancer, and obesity. If people get exercise, chances are they won’t become ill or injured, which keeps those Medicare costs down.

I’ve been swimming laps regularly for 35 years, so I am pretty comfortable working out.
I was feeling pretty smug the day I walked into the club and asked to be moved to the Silver Sneakers rolls. I had just finished swimming a thousand meters – sadly, I used to swim two thousand, but as I’ve already intimated, I’m old.

“Of course! I’d be happy to help,” a tall, twenty-something smiled down at me. “Sit right here. Just show me your ID and your membership card, Ms. Montgomery.”

I noted he was very solicitous.

After putting the important bits of information into the computer and handing me my new key fob, he placed both elbows on the desk. “Now, we can provide you with a free one-hour counseling session.”

“What for?”

He tilted his head. “To help you learn how to work out.”

I squinted. Did I look like I needed help finding my way around the gym? Did I look like I spent my days on the couch eating Ding Dongs? Did I look like I didn’t know a free weight from a foam roller?

Then, I had an I-glimpsed-myself-in-a-store-window moment. I know you’ve done it. You walk by a reflective surface and the person you see staring back is not the one you always imagined. I was forced to consider how this nice young man saw me. He smiled sweetly. I stared back, realizing I might now appear to be a little old lady.

I said I’d think about the offer. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to see if there’s anything I’ve been missing. I thanked him and left. Though I stared at the floor whenever I got close to a window.

Here’s a little from one of my women’s fiction books. I hope you enjoy it.

A woman flees an abusive husband and finds hope in the wilds of the Arizona desert.

Rebecca Quinn escapes her controlling husband and, with nowhere else to go, hops the red-eye to Arizona. There, Gaby Strand – her aunt’s college roommate – gives her shelter at the Salt River Inn, a 1930’s guesthouse located in the wildly beautiful Tonto National Forest.

Becca struggles with post-traumatic stress, but is enthralled by the splendor and fragility of the Sonoran Desert. The once aspiring artist meets Noah Tanner, a cattle rancher and beekeeper, Oscar Billingsley, a retired psychiatrist and avid birder, and a blacksmith named Walt. Thanks to her new friends and a small band of wild horses, Becca adjusts to life in the desert and rekindles her love of art.

Then, Becca’s husband tracks her down, forcing her to summon all her strength. But can she finally stop running away?

Amazon Buy Links
E-Book – Paperback

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Anne Montgomery has worked as a television sportscaster, newspaper and magazine writer, teacher, amateur baseball umpire, and high school football referee. She worked at WRBL‐TV in Columbus, Georgia, WROC‐TV in Rochester, New York, KTSP‐TV in Phoenix, Arizona, ESPN in Bristol, Connecticut, where she anchored the Emmy and ACE award‐winning SportsCenter, and ASPN-TV as the studio host for the NBA’s Phoenix Suns. Montgomery has been a freelance and staff writer for six publications, writing sports, features, movie reviews, and archeological pieces.

When she can, Anne indulges in her passions: rock collecting, scuba diving, football refereeing, and playing her guitar.

Learn more about Anne Montgomery on her website and Wikipedia. Stay connected on Facebook, Linkedin, and Twitter.

Musings from a Writer’s Brain-One Step Nearer the Epilogue by Carol Browne

26 Monday Apr 2021

Posted by Catherine Castle in books, essay, Fantasy, Guest Authors, writing

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Carol Browne, Elves, epic fantasy, essay about life, Gateway to Elvendom, goblins, Musings from a Writer's Brain, The Elwardain Chronicles

from Carol Browne

Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash

The metaphor that likens life to a book is a common one. Viewing our progress through existence as a series of chapters appeals to our need to put things in boxes and compartments. Each chapter can be titled after a significant event or rite of passage: infancy; puberty; marriage; first job; and so on. There is no set number of chapters and each one may have different themes and moods. The length of each chapter is as variable as the length of the entire book; it is, however, generally assumed that a valuable lesson or learning experience should be included in the narrative.

The latest chapter in my own book of life is the one headed ‘Retirement’. I have longed to reach this chapter but I am fully aware of the potential dangers that lie within its pages. For many, retirement is the end of usefulness when we become a drain on society and not a contributor anymore. It can make us feel less important and rob us of our self-respect and purpose. We tell ourselves that we have nothing to look forward to but an eventual decline into infirmity. But, as with all previous chapters, we have a choice in how we approach this new status. It’s all a question of attitude.

We can embrace our new freedom because we have earned it, and we don’t have to let ourselves go or stop learning. We can still work if we want to, but now we can choose what work we do, and when. Retirement doesn’t have to mean bingo and chamber music, complaining about the younger generation, or behaving with dignity at all times. The contribution of the elders to society should be enormous because finally we have the time and financial freedom we need to change the world. It’s not just by doing voluntary work or becoming politically active. We are now more useful than ever before because we have a lifetime of knowledge and experience and we can use that to guide those who are still struggling through earlier chapters. I would encourage all my fellow oldsters to reject the idea that they are on the scrapheap, because the fun is only just beginning.

I’m hoping ‘the undiscover’d country’ is some way off for me yet, but when they come to write my epilogue I hope it will show me in a favourable light. I hope it will include my successes as well as my failures. I would like to think I had made a difference to the world and left it in a better condition than I found it, even if it’s in a small way. I have plans for this particular learning experience and trust that the epilogue will celebrate my success. Most importantly of all, once my book is finished, I hope those I leave behind me will give it a five-star review.

Just to prove to you sitting in a rocker all day is not in my future, here’s a peek at my latest epic fantasy. I hope you enjoy it.

His adventures in Elvendom left Godwin a changed man, and now bereavement has darkened his world.

In another dimension, a new Elvendom is threatened by the ambitions of a monstrous enemy. But who – or what – is the Dark Lady of Bletchberm?

And what has become of Elgiva?

Reeling from the loss of their Elwardain, the elves ask Godwin for help.

Transported into a strange world of time travel and outlandish creatures, will he succeed in his quest against impossible odds, or will the Dark Lady destroy everything the Elwardain fought to preserve?

Amazon Buy Links USA – UK



ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born in Stafford in the UK, Carol Browne was raised in Crewe, Cheshire, which she thinks of as her home town. Interested in reading and writing at an early age, Carol pursued her passions at Nottingham University and was awarded an honours degree in English Language and Literature. Now living and working in the Cambridgeshire countryside, Carol usually writes fiction but has also taken a plunge into non-fiction with Being Krystyna. This story of a Holocaust survivor has been well received.

Stay connected with Carol on her website and blog, Facebook, and Twitter.

Catherine’s Comments–Age Doesn’t Matter by Catherine Castle

06 Friday Nov 2020

Posted by Catherine Castle in Catherine's Comments, essay, Romance, suspsense, Sweet romance, The Nun and the Narc

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

acheivements, Catherine Castle, Catherine's Comments, essay about life, inspirational romantic suspense, Sweet romance, The Nun and the Narc, writing success

I got a text from my daughter the other day. It read, “You’re kind of like Laura Ingalls Wilder. She didn’t get published until 65.”

I took a bit of umbrage to that statement, and pulled a bit of pride from it as well. I’d love to be an internationally well-known writer like Laura Ingalls Wilder, who was one of my favorite authors –as well as my daughter’s favorite author, now and when she was young. I wasn’t so crazy about the 65 bit, however. I was under 65 when my first book was published, and well under 65 in how-young-you-feel-and-look years. (And isn’t that what really counts?)

However, my daughter’s statement got me to thinking about how our accomplishments aren’t limited to age. I was actually in my early 40s when I began writing professionally as a stringer for our local town newspaper. I’d always loved to write and had filled a notebook full of poems, written dozens of short stories that never made it past the Mom-thinks-it’s-wonderful stage, and composed countless school essays that always made great marks. The writing assignments that other students groaned about, I relished. I loved everything about them, from the research, to the actual writing, and even the editing—things that serve me well now as a published author.

Writing and reading have always been my passions, along with singing and acting. As a teenager I wanted to be a rock-and-roll singer or act on stage. At the time, writing never even entered my realm of careers. It was only a hobby I loved. I never made it to the limelight of center stage, in spite of the many times I tried out for school plays or musicals. I got chorus parts, but never the starring roles.

Ahh, but never give up. There’s a time and a place for everything and, for some of us, that time comes later in life. Today, I’m a published author—both as a solo author and co-authoring with my husband. I sing onstage at church, praising the Lord who gave me my voice. I’m also co-writing plays for our church (with my husband), acting and co-directing in plays for our church. Granted, it’s not Hollywood, which I have decided I wouldn’t want to be part of now anyway. Nor am I on the New York Times Bestseller list, to which I still aspire. But I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to. I’ve discovered doing what you love, at any age, is satisfying beyond belief.

Here’s the interesting thing: Age doesn’t matter–just ask Abraham’s wife. After all, if he could give Sarah and Abraham a child in their old age, at just the right time to begin his plan of salvation for the world, who am I to question why my bit of success didn’t come when I was twenty? Knowing how everything turned out, I believe I’m right where God wants me to be, at the time of my life he wanted me to be there.

Mine is not to wonder why, but just to do and be satisfied. So, if you’re bemoaning the fact that you haven’t “made it” yet in the publishing world, or with any other goal you’ve set for yourself, don’t. Just keep working toward that goal and relish the success, no matter how big or small, whenever it comes.

Catherine achieved her goal of publication and also won several awards with her debut book, The Nun and the Narc. Check out the blurb and read a sample on Amazon.

The Nun and the Narc

By Catherine Castle

Where novice Sister Margaret Mary goes, trouble follows. When she barges into a drug deal the local Mexican drug lord captures her. To escape she must depend on undercover DEA agent Jed Bond. Jed’s attitude toward her is exasperating, but when she finds herself inexplicable attracted to him he becomes more dangerous than the men who have captured them, because he is making her doubt her decision to take her final vows. Escape back to the nunnery is imperative, but life at the convent, if she can still take her final vows, will never be the same.

Nuns shouldn’t look, talk, act, or kiss like Sister Margaret Mary O’Connor—at least that’s what Jed Bond thinks. She hampers his escape plans with her compulsiveness and compassion and in the process makes Jed question his own beliefs. After years of walling up his emotions in an attempt to become the best agent possible, Sister Margaret is crumbling Jed’s defenses and opening his heart. To lure her away from the church would be unforgivable—to lose her unbearable.

The Nun and the Narc is available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble

About the Author:

Multi-award winning author Catherine Castle loves writing. Before beginning her career as a romance writer she worked part-time as a freelance writer. She has over 600 articles and photographs to her credit, under her real name, in the Christian and secular market. She also lays claim to over 300 internet articles written on a variety of subjects and several hundred poems. In addition to writing she loves reading, traveling, singing, theatre, quilting and gardening. She’s a passionate gardener whose garden won a “Best Hillside Garden” award from the local gardening club. She writes sweet and inspirational romances. You can find her award-winning Soul Mate books The Nun and the Narc and A Groom for Mama, on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Follow her on Twitter @AuthorCCastle, FB or her blog.

Musings from a Writer’s Brain–Law of Small Things by Elliot Baker

26 Monday Oct 2020

Posted by Catherine Castle in essay, Musings from a Writer's Brain

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Elliot Baker, essay about life, Musings from a Writer's Brain, Pirates and swashbuckling fiction, The Sun God's Heir

by Elliott Baker

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

I was sitting next to my four-year-old grandson and he began his sentence with, “When I was a little kid…” We all see ourselves as more enlightened than we probably are. Just the nature of our egos.

One of the prime reactions of the younger part of ourselves is to direct responsibility elsewhere. We all do it. “Wasn’t me.” He did it, she did it.” If we are energy beings, collections of energy, and quantum theory as well as current scientific consensus says we are, then additional energy feels good, and less energy feels bad. We approach the one and avoid the other. Accepting responsibility costs us energy in the short term, but often saves us more in the long term. Here’s where delayed gratification comes in. We develop delayed gratification as we mature. Would I rather go to a movie, energy resource, than go to work, boring energy suck? You bet. But through a certain amount of learning pain, I choose the latter in order to pay for two movies at a later date. It works.

Exhausting fear through anger while displacing responsibility feels good in the moment, but does nothing to affect the cause of the fear, leaving it to grow larger while it continuously drains our energy.

Our most common response is, “What can I, one person, do against a worldwide problem?” The obvious answer is nothing and so I vent that fear through anger, all the while telling myself that I am helping the cause. I’ve done something because I shared my resentment with someone else and allowed them to share theirs in return. We both feel better getting that momentary relief from the emotional pressure of fear. Problem is, I wonder if that response does anything other than add energy to the problem without actually assisting in its solution.

Image by ipicgr from Pixabay 

Well, what can I do against the momentum of eight billion people? In physics there is something known as ‘weak force.’ I have to assume that it’s named that because each individual reaction is, well, weak. But in aggregate, it performs crucial work allowing for some spectacular results. Among others, it initiates the nuclear fusion that fuels our sun. Fairly significant. The law of small things.

What if, instead of venting our fear energy, we channel it into a positive exchange? Support another life stream in any way you can, whenever it occurs to you to do so. The size of the energy you expend is unimportant. That you sent the energy out in support of another, no matter how small or unmeasurable it might seem is everything. The law of small things will take it from there. Choose intent over outcome. Our control over the outcome of things is suspect anyway.

Venting resentment does little but congeal into violence which in turn does nothing but create more resentment which…

Why not try something different for a change. Compliment a friend or loved one. Add positive energy to the miasma of fear that currently envelops us all. Power is unimportant. Frequency is unimportant. Intent is everything. The law of small things.

Here is a little from my first novel in The Sun God’s Heir series. I hope you enjoy it.

René Gilbert awoke shackled to the wall of a four-foot-high ship’s slave hold.

The filthy bilge water splashed over his head and then receded. Under sail.

The North Atlantic, 1672. To survive René must escape a slave ship in the midst of the ocean.

Focus on the first thing, his fencing master’s voice rose from within his memory.

“Don’t drown,” he thought. His second thought was the memory of a wooden rod speeding toward him for his sarcasm.

Rapier sharp, pulse pounding action across the warp and weave of the seventeenth century. Sailing ships, pirates, and past lives contend in this first book of an award-winning trilogy.

Buy Links
Amazon Kindle – Amazon Paperback


ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award winning, international playwright Elliott B. Baker grew up in Jacksonville, Florida. With four musicals and one play published and done throughout the United States, New Zealand, Portugal, England, and Canada, Elliott is pleased to offer his first novel, Return, book one of The Sun God’s Heir trilogy.

A member of the Authors Guild and the Dramatists Guild, Elliott lives in New Hampshire with his beautiful wife Sally Ann.

Learn more about Elliot Baker on his website. Stay connected on Twitter and Facebook. Like Elliott’s Author Page on Facebook to learn all his latest news.

Musings from a Writer’s Brain–Spooky Mommy Magic by Catherine Castle

05 Monday Oct 2020

Posted by Catherine Castle in A Groom for Mama, Catherine Castle author, essay, Musings from a Writer's Brain, paranormal, Sweet romance

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

A Groom for Mama, Catherine Castle, Contemporary Romantic comedy, essay about life, Musings from a Writer's Brain, paranormal esp, Sweet romance

photo courtesy of pixabay

I got a text  message from my daughter the other day.

“I need your Mommy magic,” she said. “Help me find my missing items. Text me and let me know where they are.”

 She was looking for: a pill cutter, a monkey necklace, and a pair of orange-handled scissors she travels with.

Her Dad told me to text her that they would be in the last place she would look. I did, but then I sent her the locations of the items.

“The pill cutter will be on a shelf, possibly with some bottles. The necklace is hanging from something, and the scissors are in your kit bag, train case, or a suitcase pocket,” I said.

A few minutes later my daughter’s text came back. “The pill cutter was with other bottles of hubby’s medicine, in a ziplock bag. I told him, ‘Dang, she’s good!!!’when I read your description.”

Hah! Mama’s still got the Mommy Magic!

A few days later she told me she found the scissors in a travel bag.

Then she called and said she’d lost her pill case. I saw the hallway bookshelves. So she went on a house-wide search looking on all the book shelves.

When she couldn’t find the item, she called back and said, “Nope. What else did you see? What colors?”

“Blue,” I said. “Like a blue carpet.”

“I said the pill case was blue, Mom,” she said.

“I don’t remember that,” I replied. “I just know I saw blue when you asked me where it was.”

“But the hall carpet’s not blue,” she replied.

“Well, I saw blue. Look for it around something blue.”

And they were off on another search. A few minutes later, she texts me a photo of a popcorn box with the message, “Ur all wrong about the carpet.”

But I was right about the blue!

They found her pill box, in front of the popcorn box, which is mostly blue. I missed the carpet, but, Hey, I got the color right!

At the writing of this post, I don’t know if she found the necklace where I predicted, but 99-percent of the time when she sends me on a long-distance hunt for lost items, I can see the general location of the lost items.

I have no idea why I can do this. When she asks me to find a lost item, a picture pops up in my brain. I go with it. I have to say the first picture I see, even if it makes no sense—like it’s in a small, dark place. That was a real response once, and she found the item in a black, velvet bag after asking me what color I saw in the vision. Or if I envision something that is in my own house, like where my own pill cutter resides—on a shelf—possibly with other bottles—I still go with that first image. That was the first thing I saw that day. If I don’t go with the first thing I see, the magic doesn’t work quite as well.

Sometimes, even though she swears she’d looked in a location I’ve seen, a second search in the place I said to look will turn up the item. Other times she says she would never put it there, but that’s right where she finds the missing object. Occasionally, I get accused of sneaking into her house and placing the lost article where I predict just so she’ll find it there.

Trust me, I don’t.

I’ve even found things long-distance for my daughter’s neighbor.

Funny thing about this Mama-lost-item-finding power…it doesn’t work for me. I can lose things for weeks on end, searching unsuccessfully in every corner I can think of. Once I lost my Kindle and went into a panic.  I found it weeks later at the bottom of a pile of papers on my desk. Every time I do a sweep to clean the house quickly and dump every loose item I can get my hands on into a box, I’ll lose something. Sometimes for months on end, because I forget what I swept up in the frantic cleanup and where I put the box. Which begs the question: If I forgot what I lost, is it really lost or just forgotten?

Next time I lose something, I should call my daughter and ask her where it is. If I have this power, shouldn’t she? After all, she is my daughter.

What about you? Can you find lost items? Magically or otherwise.

If you’ve lost something and can’t find it, take a break after searching and pick up a copy of Catherine’s award-winning romantic comedy with a touch of drama, A Groom for Mama. You’ll laugh as you watch Mama search for a husband for her daughter.

A Groom for Mama

By Catherine Castle

Beverly Walters is dying, and before she goes she has one wish—to find a groom for her daughter. To get the deed done, Mama enlists the dating service of Jack Somerset, Allison’s former boyfriend.

The last thing corporate-climbing Allison wants is a husband. Furious with Mama’s meddling, and a bit more interested in Jack than she wants to admit, Allison agrees to the scheme as long as Mama promises to search for a cure for her terminal illness.

A cross-country trip from Nevada to Ohio ensues, with a string of disastrous dates along the way, as the trio hunts for treatment and A Groom For Mama.

About the Author:

Multi-award winning author Catherine Castle loves writing. Before beginning her career as a romance writer she worked part-time as a freelance writer. She has over 600 articles and photographs to her credit, under her real name, in the Christian and secular market. She also lays claim to over 300 internet articles written on a variety of subjects and several hundred poems. In addition to writing she loves reading, traveling, singing, theatre, quilting and gardening. She’s a passionate gardener whose garden won a “Best Hillside Garden” award from the local gardening club. She writes sweet and inspirational romances. You can find her award-winning Soul Mate books The Nun and the Narc and A Groom for Mama, on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Follow her on Twitter @AuthorCCastle, FB or her blog.

Musings from a Writer’s Brain–Win, Place, Lose…and Live by Catherine Castle

06 Monday May 2019

Posted by Catherine Castle in Musings from a Writer's Brain

≈ Comments Off on Musings from a Writer’s Brain–Win, Place, Lose…and Live by Catherine Castle

Tags

blog essay, Catherine Castle, Eleanor Roosevelt, essay about life, Kentucky Derby

courtesy Bill Brine Flickr.com

 

My husband and I watched the Kentucky Derby this weekend. As I was watching, it occurred to me that an awful lot of time and money had been spent on getting these animals ready to race. It costs over $51,000 to enter the race. According to a 2014 survey, the yearly average maintenance on a racing horse is $40,4023 a year. The cost of purchasing a race horse is between the low six to low seven figures in dollars. That’s a lot of money to spend on a two minute race, where only one horse will be the winner.

In many ways this cycle is sad, because the thrill of winning and the resulting fortune only lasts a while. The high from the win can quickly become a low, especially if you get disqualified like Maximum Security or lose the next race. The flowers on the winner’s wreath fade. The prize money gets spent, and eventually the horses are put out to pasture, old and has been.

This cycle is repeated with human athletes. They strive to become the best, and, if they are lucky, they may achieve that status for a while. But, like the winning race horse, the thrill of the win and their abilities eventually fade. And they are left with memories and bodies that can no longer do what they did in their youth.

The same fate befalls all of us humans. Time is not kind to us. The excitement from our successes, whatever they may be, fades over time. Our earthly bodies wear out, whether we are athletes or not. Heaven knows I can attest to that, as I’m sure many of you can, too.

Given the unkindness of time and the slim margins for being the winner, you might ask why should we keep striving toward the finish line, even if we don’t get there first or second or even end up the middle of the pack or worse?

I think that when the good Lord made us he instilled the desire in us to be the best we can be. No matter what that best is. We all can’t be rocket scientists or Nobel Prize winners. Some of us won’t go to college or graduate from high school. Others may only make enough money to eke by. Some of us will be dealt health issues that change us forever. But those limitations shouldn’t be things that keep us down or keep us from being involved in life. No matter what stage we are at in our lives we need to be striving to be better. Not better than everyone else, but better than our current selves.

Eleanor Roosevelt once said “When you cease to make a contribution, you begin to die.”

That contribution doesn’t have to be earthshattering. You can start with baby steps. Do something to improve yourself. Say a kind word to someone. Help someone in need. Do the thing you are afraid to do. Make a difference in another person’s life. And if you have the ability or the means to do more then do so.

“The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.” Eleanor Roosevelt

Run the race like you want to win it. Win, Place, or lose. To do less is to turn your back on the gift of life.

 

A Groom for Mama

By Catherine Castle

Beverly Walters is dying, and before she goes she has one wish—to find a groom for her daughter. To get the deed done, Mama enlists the dating service of Jack Somerset, Allison’s former boyfriend.

The last thing corporate-climbing Allison wants is a husband. Furious with Mama’s meddling, and a bit more interested in Jack than she wants to admit, Allison agrees to the scheme as long as Mama promises to search for a cure for her terminal illness.

A cross-country trip from Nevada to Ohio ensues, with a string of disastrous dates along the way, as the trio hunts for treatment and A Groom For Mama.

 

About the Author:

Multi-award winning author Catherine Castle loves writing, reading, traveling, singing, theatre, quilting and gardening. She’s a passionate gardener whose garden won a “Best Hillside Garden” award from the local gardening club. She writes sweet and inspirational romances. You can find her award-winning Soul Mate books The Nun and the Narc and A Groom for Mama, on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.

Follow her on Twitter @AuthorCCastle, FB or her blog.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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