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Monthly Archives: May 2021

Barbara White Daille lives with her husband in the sunny Southwest. Though they love the warm winters and the lizards in their front yard, they haven’t gotten used to the scorpions in the bathroom. Barbara also loves writing, reading, and chocolate.

Thanks to Beverley for the chance to share my Snowflake Valley stories with you!   The books are sweet romances set in a tiny tourist town that celebrates the winter holidays 365 days a year.   Snowbound with Mr. Wrong and One Week to Win Her Boss feature two of the “bad luck Barnett” sisters who have had no luck at all with relationships.   Their luck is about to change—though unfortunately not for the better.  

Below are quick peeks at both books, which my publisher has sale priced for 99 cents through May 17. See Buy Links below,

From the cover of book one, Snowbound with Mr. Wrong :

Worst. Day. Ever. After Lyssa Barnett’s sister tricks her into reprising her role at Snowflake Valley’s annual children’s party, she doesn’t think anything can be worse than squeezing into her too-small elf costume. Then tall, dark, and way too handsome Nick Tavlock shows up to play Santa…and an unexpected storm leaves them snowbound in the isolated lodge.

The last thing Nick wants is to spend a cozy Christmas Eve with a trio of kids and the woman who dumped him. But as much as Lyssa frustrates him, he can’t stop thinking about her. And soon, he’s fighting very un-Santa-like thoughts of kissing a certain sexy Miss Elf under the mistletoe. As Nick starts to fall for Lyssa all over again, he knows it will take nothing short of a miracle to have Lyssa in his arms on Christmas Day.

Page one teaser:

The elf suit definitely hadn’t felt this tight a year ago.

Sitting half-dressed in a virtual stranger’s bedroom, Lyssa Barnett muttered under her breath as she continued to struggle into her green velvet costume. She should have known better than to give in to her sister’s pleas for help with this Christmas party again. After all, it wasn’t as if what happened after last year’s party had ultimately left her with such pleasant memories.

And from the cover of book two, One Week to Win Her Boss :

Single mom Amber Barnett loves family, kids, Christmas…and unfortunately, her boss, confirmed bachelor Michael DeFranco. It’s a crush she really  needs to get over. Except, when she’s temporarily forced from her apartment, her only option is to stay at Michael’s private ski lodge, where she’s the housekeeper. No problem. Her handsome boss rarely visits Snowflake Valley unexpectedly, plus he’s spending the holidays with his family. Or so she thinks…

A stormy Christmas Eve reunion leaves Michael seeking the solitude of his lodge, where he finds Amber in residence—and in trouble. Attempting to save her from her matchmaking family, he announces they’re a couple. His good deed backfires when they’re instantly included in each and every holiday event in town. So much for solitude. 

Only the more time he spends with the beautiful, cheery brunette, the more he yearns to make things real between them. But he and Amber want different things, and Michael could never be the family man she’s looking for. 

Page one teaser:

The jingling of Santa’s sleigh bells jolted Amber Barnett awake on the couch. Following the bells came a thud, a crash, a clatter, and a long string of muttered curses.

That couldn’t be. Santa wouldn’t swear like a sailor, especially not on Christmas Eve.

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Sale links to the books at Entangled & other favorite booksellers:


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Ha rlequin  


Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of traveling and literature. She has two children, a stray live-in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

2020 Character Interview

Beverley: What’s your name?

Andrew: Andrew Conroy, although that wasn’t always my name.

Beverley: Where did you grow up?

Andrew: Kent, England.

Beverley: During what time period does your story take place?

Andrew: 1918 to 1919.

Beverley: What’s your story/back story? Why would someone come up with a story about you?

Andrew: World War One was raging and like millions of men I enlisted. Not out of patriotism, to avoid arrest for assault. I was shipped over to the bloody battlefields of France, and on the eve of the Battle of Amiens, I got talking to a bloke of similar colouring and build. Like me he had no family. Next day, in the thick of battle a shell exploded killing him and wounding me. In front of me was the one chance of a new life. It was a hanging offence, but I was past thinking clearly. I swapped identity discs.

Beverley: What’s your goal in this story?

Andrew: To survive, I cannot make one mistake because my new identity pushed me into a life of family greed and murder.

Beverley: What conflicts are you facing?

Andrew: I’m in the middle of a family at war with each other. And, to complicate things more, a young woman desperately needs help.

Beverley: Do you have a plan for resolving them?

Andrew: Not making one mistake is essential, but planning is impossible when I don’t know what will happen next.

Beverley: Is there anything else you’d like us to know about you?

Andrew: That one desperate act pushed me into a life of lies and now, as I grow closer to this young woman who needed my help, honesty is the only way forward. What will she think of me when I tell her I stole the name of a man who died for his country?

Blurb for The Proposition

They met on the eve of a battle. One enlisted to avoid prison, the other enlisted to avoid the money lenders. On the bloodied fields of France, Harry Connelly collapses beside the corpse of Andrew Conroy. It is a risk, a hanging offence—and his only hope for a future. Harry swaps identity discs.

Now as Andrew, he is just another face in post-war London until a letter arrives with a proposition. Accepting is out of the question, refusing pushes him into a nightmare of greed, blackmail and murder. To survive he must live this lie without a mistake. Then he falls for Lacey and her secrets. Will the truth set them free or embroil them even further in the webs of deceit that surround them?

Excerpt from The Proposition

It took many seconds before his eyes told his brain the craters were dark red and littered with dozens of bloodied, twisted bodies. Some stared up into nothing, some face down. Harry looked behind him, he’d been pinned beneath bodies submerged in the crater still smoking from an exploded shell. The entrails of one body oozed into the bloodied soil and the other body, oh God. Harry’s stomach heaved, he was covered with blood and guts. The ground shook again making him cringe. In the distance, a thick pall of black smoke was covering the rows of men fighting furiously while shells pounded around them, but it was eerily silent. Like the films at the picture house without the words on the screen. 

Harry struggled to his knees and almost fainted from the pain in his leg. Closing his eyes, breathing deeply, he reached down to feel the blood oozing through his trouser leg.

“Come on, move, move.” He dragged himself forward until he came to a mound. “Give up,” his mind screamed, then his eyes settled on a water canteen half buried in the earth. Pulling it out, he unscrewed the cap and drank. Nectar. Spitting the dirt out of his mouth he gulped the water greedily, feeling it flowing through his body and clearing his mind.

“Oh, Jesus.” The mound was a pile of bloodied bodies with sightless eyes. He couldn’t crawl over them. He couldn’t do it. Wheezing with the pain in his leg he inched around them and looked back. The crater was barely thirty feet behind him. He had to stop. Why crawl to the trees? Stay here. Rest.

The throbbing in his leg forced Harry’s eyes open. If he could crawl to the little rise ahead of him, he’d stop there. Using his elbows to propel him, he inched forward and without warning, the earth gave way. Tumbling down the small slope he fell against a solid lump. A lump in uniform whose blank eyes stared directly into his. Jerking back, he clutched his head as excruciating pain tore through his ears. Moaning, he rocked back and forth until it eased and when he opened his eyes bile ran into his mouth. Insects were taking up residence in the gaping, oozing chest cavity while the neck and chin, mouth and nose were strangely untouched. The scalp had gone. Harry turned away as his stomach heaved again. Move, move. Inching forward, his fingers touched a shiny object in the churned soil. He stared stupidly at the unscathed cigarette case.

“Oh no!” he turned back and leaned closer to read the name on the identity discs. Andrew Conroy, his service number and C E. The poor scared bastard with no family. He wanted to move away but his feeble strength failed. He’d rest here for a while.   Holding the cigarette case with both hands, he lay back against the crumbled mound. He was so damn tired.   Voices, shouting. Blinking, he squinted at the hazy moving objects, oh yes, the Red Cross stretcher bearers and wagons were picking up the wounded before the ghastly task of removing the dead.

Harry looked at the cigarette case in his hand and its owner lying next to him. It was a hanging offence. If he did, there would be no turning back. If he didn’t…

He had no strength; his fingers wouldn’t work. Do it, for Christ’s sake, do it. His chest wheezed, and his weak hands fumbled with the effort of pulling Andrew Conroy’s discs over the gaping skull. His arms ached with the mammoth task of removing his. When it was done, he lay beside the body. He wanted to say something, beg him to understand, but he couldn’t find the words. 

His tears dripped onto the soil. “Mate, you are in a better place.”

Buy Link for The Proposition

The Proposition – Kindle edition by Selbourne, Jan. Literature & Fiction Kindle eBooks @

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Don't Go by Beverley Bateman

"It had all of the hallmarks of romance that I've come to expect (and love) and so, so much more! I am a fan. I almost didn't buy, but some greater force made me. lol I'm so very glad it did." 

4 Star Review by VintageLover on Amazon 

Don’t Go is a dark romantic suspense that takes place predominantly in Reno. Sam is a Washoe Sheriff detective with a background of sexual abuse. Now she works in teen chatrooms to catch sexual predators.


A serial killer is targeting blonde teen girls in chatroms and one of the girls from Sam’s chatrooms is now missing.


Devlin is a Reno cop who like undercover work and doesn’t do missing kids – except they’re short staffed and he’s assigned a missing girl. He doesn’t believe in relationships and likes one night stands. Now he’s stuck working a case with a computer smart detective who obviously doesn’t do one night stands and has no use for Reno police.


Reluctantly, they must work together to solve this case. Can they resolve their personal issues and bring down a serial killer?





She leaned back in her chair. Her forehead squeezed against her skull, shooting barbs of pain to her eyes. The chocolate hadn’t helped the stress.

“How did I miss this one?” She punched her fist into her palm. Insidious memories crept from the dark corners of her subconscious, spun a cocoon around her and dragged her back into the dark, tangled web of her own past.

The sickening sweet smell of overpowering aftershave snaked up her nostrils; fat, sweaty palms grasped at her thighs. She knew what was going to happen. She was unable to scream, unable to escape…no one to help her.

The images crashed over her, scattering years of counseling like broken shells on a beach, covering her soul with the spray of desperation and anger.

Sam scrubbed at a tear drifting down her cheek, and forced the images back into the darkness, back into the locked box.

It’s not about me. It’s about this girl and another predator creep.

With clenched fists she white-knuckled the arms of the chair to keep from throwing the damn computer against the wall.

“Find anything?” Kerensa strolled back into the computer room, a partially eaten sugar donut in her fingers. A faint white trail drifted behind her. “They got a whole box of these out there if you want to grab one before the other detectives get back and scarf them all.”

“Damn it! I should have seen it coming. Where the hell are they?” Sam kicked her chair away from the computer and stood. “No thanks. Those things can kill you. I’d have to work out an extra hour tonight.”

“Hey, they’re no worse than that stash of chocolate you hide in your bottom drawer.”

“A girl has to have something to combat the frustration. Besides, dark chocolate is good for you.”

“Right, if you say so. You know, girlfriend, you need to learn to relax, enjoy life, and find a man who likes his woman well-padded.” Kerensa patted the green uniform shirt stretched across her protruding belly. A safety pin protected a button from popping off.

“Like Tim?” Sam allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of her mouth. “You’re lucky. Chocolate is my replacement for men. Chocolate won’t screw with me.”

“Too bad, ’cause being a natural blonde with a great bod, you could probably get any man you wanted.”

“Yeah, right.” Sam shook her head and walked toward the door. “I’m taking a break, but not to get donuts. I need to think.”

“Take your time, girl. Hey, if there’s any of those donuts left, bring one back for me, will ya?”

Sam nodded. She rubbed her temples with her fingers, trying to exorcise the images of what the girl would go through if she met that damn creep. A sigh slithered out into the squad room as she headed toward the pot holding the day-old coffee.

“You okay?” Pete Sandusky nodded in her direction.

The acrid, slightly burnt odor of chicory and rancid coffee beans made her wrinkle her nose before she even reached the coffee maker.

She shook her head, poured a half cup of the sludge, and rested her butt against the table beside the box of sugar donuts. “No. Not really.”

With her mug clutched in both hands, she stared across at Pete. He was a good cop. He’d been there about twenty years and looked everyday of it. Gray fringe around a shiny pate; round, gold-rimmed glasses perched on a short, flat, boxer-type nose, and an inner tube that had settled around his waist under the dark green uniform.

“It’s a feeling I’ve got.” After a quick sip of the disgusting liquid she stuck out her tongue. “Yech. Why doesn’t someone throw this crap out?”

Pete shrugged. “What doesn’t feel right?”

What genre do you write? Is it one of the best-selling categories? I was curious as to what was the best-selling genre, especially since Covid. And apparently, there are a thousand different surveys and best-selling lists. I   checked out a couple.

The first one said the best-selling genres were:

Memoirs and Biographies.

Self Help.

Religion and Spirituality.

Health, Fitness, and Dieting.

Politics and Social Sciences.

The next one was similar:

Religion and Spirituality.

Biographies and Memoirs.

Business and Money.

Self Help.

Cookbooks, food, and vine.

Wait a minute – where are the fiction books? Here they are. This is where I found them.

1. Romance – Contemporary

2. Literature Fiction – contemporary fiction – Women

3. Romance – New Adult

4. Literature Fiction – Coming of Age

5. Romance – mystery and suspense

6. Science fiction and Fantasy – Paranormal and Urban

7. Erotica

And this Fiction one comes from


Science Fiction




Detective and Mystery




Historical Fiction

Young Adult (YA)

Children’s Fiction