The Mentorship Edge: Creating Maximum Impact through Lateral and Hierarchical
Mentoring by Deborah Heiser, PhD Category: Adult Non-Fiction (18+), 224 pages Genre: Non-Fiction, business and personal development
About the Book:
Written by Deborah Heiser, an
applied developmental psychologist with more than twenty years of
experience as a researcher and coach, The Mentorship Edge: Creating Maximum Impact through Lateral and Hierarchical Mentoring
explores how we connect to others, feel valued, get pleasure from life,
and believe our lives have meaning through forming mentor relationships
with others. This book covers both personal and professional mentorship
in various fields, including business, research, entrepreneurship, and
even art.
The traditional hierarchical mentorship we’re all familiar with is
simple and often very effective. But there is also lateral mentoring,
where you connect with a friend or colleague―someone you can be
vulnerable with―whether they work in your department, another
department, or outside of your organization entirely. Lateral mentoring
solves many common problems with mentorship, like feeling intimidated by
those above us at work, while still providing all of the key benefits
that mentorship has been proven to give.
The goal of this book is to inspire individuals to engage in mentoring
naturally, whether hierarchically or laterally, in work settings and in
their home life. Heiser shares the insights gained from in-depth
research and her extensive experience running The Mentor Project, a mentoring organization with more than 100 mentors at the absolute top of their fields.
Whether you have an emotional desire to give back to others to solidify
your legacy and ensure that all the boxes you’ve checked over the
previous decades mattered, or you’re seeking to connect with more
successful individuals as a mentee, The Mentorship Edge
is an essential guide to understanding the value of different types of
mentorship and taking the first steps towards using this special type of
relationship to create a better life for yourself.
DEBORAH HEISER, PhD, is CEO and
Founder of The Mentor Project, a nonprofit that enlists the help of
numerous thought leaders and accomplished professionals to offer
mentoring services to students. She is The International Association of
Top Professionals 2025 Top CEO and Mentor of the Year, and also an
applied developmental psychologist, a TEDx speaker, Marshall Goldsmith
100 Coaches, and a Psychology Today contributor.
Bartered to Viscount Hudson Becker by her father, Lady Lavinia
Holbrook escapes her arranged marriage and travels to her Godmother, the
Duchess of Chauncy to seek asylum. Determined to put men and marriage
behind her, she is unprepared for the duke’s interest or his heated
kisses.
The Duke of Chauncy believes love is a weakness and refuses
to take a bride despite his mother's scheming. When the duchess makes a
wager he will marry by Christmas, he considers the matter a lark. Until
Lavinia gets under his skin, and he rethinks his position on love and
happy ever afters.
On This Christmas I Thee Wed is available through these fine retailers…
I began writing in 2018. I had a story in my head that needed to be told. I considered the idea several times over the last couple of years and in 2018, I made it happen. It took me most of the year from start to finish, but it was worth every second.
Can you tell me who or what the inspiration for the book was?
On This Christmas I Thee Wed is my sixteenth story. In a previous story, the groom left the bride at the altar, and I thought a Regency Romance where the bride left a very eligible groom at the altar would be a fun story to write.
Can you tell us how you came up with your title?
The title to this story incorporates the Christmas Theme with the wedding vows. I had to do a search to see how many books had similar titles before I settled on it.
Can you tell us a little about your main characters?
My heroine abhors the idea of being subjected to the whims of a man and runs away, hoping to make a different life. She refuses to live the life her mother and sisters do and takes matters into her own hands.
The duke has just as much reason to avoid marriage as my heroine but for different reasons. He has seen the devastation losing the love of your life can cause and avoids the situation at all costs because he believes love is a weakness.
Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it?
I do suffer from writer's block and the way I deal with it is to go do something else for awhile. Usually the writer's block clears up within a day, and I am able to continue.
Where is this book set, and why did you choose that setting?
The book is set in Northern England in the 1700's. I love Regency romance and always have. The reason the story is set in Northern England is plot specific.
What’s next on your writing to-do list?
I am currently finishing up the fourth addition to Calhan Brides featuring the oldest Calhan brother, Connor. This series is my historical western romance series following the Calhan Family.
Can you tell me about your experiences finding a publisher for the book?
I write for The Wild Rose Press so finding a publisher for this story was simple. When I first started writing, I bought a copy of the Guide to Literary Agents and submitted to several who were open to submissions and printed romance. I signed with The Wild Rose Press not long after.
If you were going to hang out with one of your characters, who would that be?
I would hang out with the Duchess of Chauncy. She does not concern herself with the rules of society and has a great sense of humor. I believe everyone should have an eccentric lady in their family.
What do you like to do for fun when you’re not writing?
I love to watch the ocean waves on the beach. Any ocean and any beach. I also sew, embroidery, crochet, and play with my grandchildren. That's pretty great in my opinion.
Book Excerpt
His mother planned his downfall into marriage with meticulous care or she wouldn’t have goaded him with her bet. And he didn’t believe her innocent of sending Lavinia to the wrong chamber last night, despite her feigned innocence.
Nay. His mother had nothing to do but plot his matrimonial demise and design a nursery for his progeny.
God. Though he loved her with all his heart, why wouldn’t she accept his decision to remain a bachelor?
Lavinia’s voice played in his head.
There, neither Papa nor the viscount can order me
to do anything I don’t want to do.
He understood her frustration, but even Scotland wouldn’t save him from his mother. The woman had a tenacious streak to rival Satan’s.
And who the hell was the viscount? He knew of no scandal involving Lavinia. Her voice continued.
I refuse to be some man’s broodmare, impregnated and discarded…
Snorting, he wanted to add his discontent to being a…What would a man forced to sire a child be called, anyway? A brood sire?
He chuckled. Discarded like a settee in the parlor.
Forgotten until the lord required someplace to sit. The girl used amusing analogies, he thought. But if she were his, he wouldn’t be sitting on her. Nay, she would be atop
him. The memory of her soft body in his arms made him rigid.
Shifting in his seat to ease his ardor, he remembered her mentioning being abducted by a Scot and taken to the highlands to ravish. Then her voice went all dreamy and soft as if ravishment by a highlander were every girl’s fantasy.
His lips tightened as he swung his chair around to stare out the window, steepling his fingers in thought.
English lords were much better lovers and far superior in every other avenue. What the devil did she have against them?
Perhaps her parents were the answer. The Earl of Holbrook and his wife were the epitome of a marriage of convenience, and with their history, he could understand her reluctance to join the marital throng. He avoided the marriage noose for much the same reason. Thoughts of being tied to some of the ladies his mother paraded through the castle made him shudder with revulsion.
Good god, what a dreadful thought.
– Excerpted from On This Christmas, I Thee Wed by Virginia Barlow, The Wild Rose Press, 2024. Reprinted with permission.
About the Author
Virginia Barlow has been a dreamer her whole life. She loves reading, traveling, and roses. She will dive headfirst into any romance she can get her hands on in any genre. Although her first love is Regency Romance and always will be. Something about the era calls to her soul like a siren’s song rising from the depths.
She loves to write steamy romances whether fantasy, historical, or contemporary, all are liberally spiced with adventure and sensual, seductive heroes. Her heroines are just as compelling with equal parts intelligence, sass, and backbone. They give as good as they get whether saving their man’s life or responding to his heated kisses, they’re all in.
The most important thing in Virginia’s life is her family, and spending time with them. When she is not bouncing a grandbaby in her arms or handing out popsicles, she is writing and dreaming up her next love story. Virginia has published fifteen romance novels with another two on the way and has half a dozen more circling around inside her head eager to make their debut.
In the heart of Chicago, where shadows conceal secrets and organized
crime reigns, one retiree embarks on an extraordinary journey.
David Blazen didn’t know what to expect from retirement. Witnessing a
murder that police are calling a suicide definitely was not how he
planned to spend his “golden years.”
With a strong need to know what happened to the victim and why, David
attends the funeral, where he discovers an unusual cast of characters
in attendance: the FBI, the frontrunner candidate for Mayor of Chicago,
disciples of Chicago’s two dirtiest crime lords, and dozens of police
officers.
David begins to investigate why all these people cared about the
victim and why no one was calling it a murder. In his search for truth
and justice, he gets caught in a web of contentious situations, each
filled with a mixture of humor and suspense.
The further his investigation goes, the more he realizes he shouldn’t
be asking who killed the victim or why it was being covered up. As
David ultimately is confronted with becoming a criminal himself, the
real question he has to ask is how much bad can he justify in the name
of good?
As one reviewer said, “This book has the many twists and turns that a
great mystery will throw at the reader. It is a fun read, witty, and
suspenseful with many surprises turning up throughout the story. If you
think you have this story figured out, you don’t!”
Guest Post:
Have you ever asked a police officer how to commit a murder?
I have.
I was writing a key scene for Boomsters: An Unexpected Adventure, and without giving too much away, I'll just tell you that a character is murdered. I talked to a friend about the scene and explained how the character dies, and my friend looked at me, confused.
"David, that doesn't make sense," my friend said. "There's no way the character would die the way you explained it."
I thought my friend was just giving me a hard time, but as I started to tell more people about the scene, I realized I might have a problem. Some people agreed with how I set the scene, but just as many people agreed with my friend.
How was I going to solve this predicament? I didn't really want to ask Google if this scenario would kill someone.
One day I was doing some writing at a public cafe, and I noticed a police officer walk in. If anyone could help answer my question, I figured an officer of the law could. But what if he got the wrong idea? I wrote this book to help keep my creative mind fresh, not end up in the backseat of a squad car. I thought about it for a minute or so and decided to go for it.
I walked up to the officer and began by thanking him for his hard work. Then I got right to it.
"Officer," I said, "I have a rather unusual question for you."
"OK?" he said questioningly.
"You see, sir, I'm writing a mystery, and in it, there's a murder. I fortunately have never committed a crime or considered murdering anyone, but I have an active imagination. Anyway, I wrote out the whole scene and thought it worked out, but then I showed it to a buddy and he said it didn't make sense."
By this point the officer seemed captivated by my saga.
"I see," he responded. "Well, tell me what happens."
I went ahead and painted the whole scene for him. I explained how I thought the murder would happen and then shared how my friend thought it would go down. The officer listened intently. When I finished, he remained quiet. I prayed he wasn't considering whether my tale was a confession. Fortunately, he was apparently just deep in thought about the dilemma.
After a few seconds, he told me he agreed with my buddy.
I thanked him for his time and opinion, and I reiterated that this was only for a book and that I'd never consider following through and making this work of fiction a reality. He appreciated that and shook my hand.
"So, who's the killer," the officer asked as we began to go our separate ways.
"You'll have to read the book to find out," I said with a smile.
I packed up my things and headed home. On the way, I called my friend and said a cop agreed with him and that I'd fix the details the next morning.
When I woke up, before getting to the revisions, I scoured the local news, hoping no one committed a crime like the one I created. Once I confirmed I was in the clear, I went back to the scene and rewrote it to match the logistics the officer shared. Satisfied, I sat back and thought about the officer's last words.
"Who's the killer?"
I'd lost count of how many times I'd been asked that question from people who knew about the story. I'd usually give a light-hearted remark like what I shared with the officer, but from the moment I realized this was going to be a book, I knew I wanted it to be more than a whodunnit.
I wanted readers to get more than just that type of mystery.
I wanted readers to meet a cast of characters straight out of a Coen Brothers movie, each with their own distinctive backstory, and figure out how they fit together.
I wanted readers to be entertained with humor while being confronted with ethical and moral dilemmas.
I wanted readers to have to answer the question of how much bad could be justified in the name of good.
Thank you to the hundreds of readers who've told me I accomplished that goal.
Thank you for reading this far and considering reading Boomsters.
And thank you to the officer who helped me out. I never caught your name, but if you're reading this, reach out to me at contact@boomsters.com. I'd love to send you a signed copy of the book.
Read an excerpt:
Chapter 1
BOOMSTERS
“We are gathered here today before God and in the company of loved ones to celebrate life,” Rabbi Rabinowitz said. “The life of—” He paused. “The life of—” Another pause. Finally, he pulled a notecard from his pocket. “We are here to celebrate the life of Melvin Weinberg.”
I adjusted my tie as I leaned toward Mary. “More like celebrating his death,” I said. She rolled her eyes as she listened to the rabbi.
“Melvin, or Mel, as most of you probably knew him, was a husband and a father, a man whose life was cut short at the age of fifty-six. The world will not be the same without him.”
“Yeah, it will be safer now,” I whispered to Mary, who responded with an elbow to my left kidney. “What? Clearly this rabbi never met Mel.”
Candidly, I had never met Mel either, but I was confident I knew more about him than any of the two hundred or so people at the funeral. My guess was most were here not because Mel would be missed but because so many people wanted to confirm he was dead.
When you’re in your seventies like I am, you become familiar with funerals and the certain routine that comes with them, but it was easy to see nothing was routine about this one. Sure, the rabbi forgot the dead man’s name, but now he was extolling Mel’s virtues. Mel had no virtues. He was a murderer, a rapist, and a gambler. You can’t live life as a jerk and die a mensch. Clearly the rabbi was officiating as a favor to someone.
But that wasn’t all that was off. Those in attendance were also peculiar. First, a half-dozen FBI agents patrolled the room. Sarah Cutler—the woman expected to be Chicago’s next mayor—was sitting in the front row for all to see. Scattered throughout were members and employees from the West Coast Club, a fitness center I’ve worked out at for more than twenty years and a place I know Mel was no member of.
Then there was the crowd in the back row. On one side sat associates of Tony Santori, the head of the notorious Italian crime family. Santori expanded his family’s corrupt and dishonorable reign from New Jersey to the Midwest six years ago, and although he wasn’t in attendance, his presence was certainly felt. On the other side were members of the Deli Boys, a pack of Jews who’d owned Chicago’s streets for decades, at least until Santori arrived. Solomon Feldman was their leader, though he, too, was not present. A line of uniformed Chicago police officers blanketed the room’s back wall, there primarily to keep the peace between the two families.
Keep the peace? At a funeral? Like I said, the whole scene was bizarre. Then again, I guess it was fitting for the unique set of circumstances surrounding Mel Weinberg’s death. Why they were there was a legitimate question, as was this: As a retired businessman who spent fifty years selling trinkets like light-up Christmas necklaces and pens that sang “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” what the hell was I doing there?
To answer that question, I needed to take a step back.
—–
David Blazen is my name, born soon after World War II ended at eight pounds and who cares how many ounces. Growing up, I loved to watch Saturday morning television, where Superman stood for justice and Captain America defended our country from evil. All the shows I gravitated toward appealed to me because they focused on doing the right thing, no matter if the hero was a rifleman or a collie. I liked when bad people were caught and justice prevailed. When I couldn’t find the right story on our black-and-white TV, I’d find it in my piles of GI Joe comic books. Before I fantasized about girls, I dreamed about being GI Joe.
The best education I got came from my World War II-veteran dad, a navy man who was the smartest person I knew, even though he never made it past fifth grade. From him I learned how to be human. His motto was simple: “It’s nice to be important, but it’s more important to be nice.”
I went to Wright Junior College in Chicago, but saying I went there is a loose term. I only showed up when I wanted, which wasn’t often. I wanted to learn to be a salesman, so when I wasn’t in class, I was practicing my craft. At that time, I sold personalized pens. I decided I learned all the school could teach me three months into my freshman year when I sold Wright Junior College ten thousand pens emblazoned with the school’s name on them.
After my brief stint in college, I started my own business. I sold creative impulse merchandise of all kinds—things people decide they can’t live without, like an extendable back scratcher or holiday-themed ice trays. Those who knew me then would call me creative and fast-paced, and I would agree. I had a zest for being zestful. My creativity was not stymied by what others did or what books said, only by the limits of my imagination. Every day, I challenged my brain to think outside the norm.
I got married to an incredible woman, and we raised four incredible children. I lost her to cancer far too young, before she could see any of our ten adorable grandchildren.
I retired after five decades at the helm of my company and issued my declaration of independence—I call it that because I truly felt independent for the first time in my life. No parents or teachers telling me what to do. No customers to worry about. No colleagues to manage. When I got that gold watch at my farewell party, it wasn’t just a sign of gratitude; it meant I was on my own.
The irony was I didn’t have anything to do; who cared what time it was?
When people asked about my retirement plans, I joked I’d figure something out, but really I didn’t have a clue. One advantage was I wouldn’t be completely alone. My girlfriend, Mary, retired from her forty-year business career the day after I left mine, and we entered this new world enthusiastic to travel, relax, and enjoy our lives with one another, like those hokey life insurance commercials with aging couples hugging on a boat, grateful to have time together.
It took us four days to realize we didn’t like boats and there was only so much hugging to do.
We went from leadership positions where others counted on us for direction to spending virtually every waking minute together. It used to take only one of us to squeeze the tomatoes at the produce counter, but now it’s a two-person event complete with discussion and, in most cases, a concession on my part. I was no dummy, though; bigger decisions would be needed at the avocados. What used to be short trips now became extended outings. Lunch was another discussion, followed by a compromise. Everything we did was a discussion, then a compromise.
The one thing we agreed on was we needed a new plan.
***
Excerpt from BOOMSTERS by David Marks. Copyright 2024 by David Marks. Reproduced with permission from David Marks. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
David Marks launched DM Merchandising, a wholesale marketplace for
business owners, in 1988. He spent 30 years relying on his creativity in
the hopes of developing the world’s greatest impulse products. He
retired in 2018, thrilled for a new chapter in life, only to discover
his creativity had hit a brick wall. One day he was an innovative
workaholic with a team of more than 200 employees, the next day he found
himself with no forum to exercise his mind.
Desperate to do something creative, he imagined a fictitious
character facing the same traumatic reality of retirement. Inspired by
watching crime stoppers on TV, David began pondering the question of how
much bad could be justified in the name of good. With no clerical staff
and limited typing skills, he put his thumb to work and began tapping
out a story on his iPhone. A book was never the goal. The exercise was
simply meant to help keep his mind sharp. But in the process, Boomsters was born.
This is a giveaway
hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for David Marks. See the
widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.
Step One Grier Cooper (Indigo Ballet Series) Publication date: November 15th 2024 Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult
When Indigo lands a role in Ballet Russia’s touring production of The Nutcracker, it’s a dream come true…. Or is it? Her arch nemesis is also part of the production. So is dashing Russian viral video superstar Dimitri Volkov, who’s playing some kind of game she doesn’t quite understand.
As Indigo dances alongside the rising stars of Ballet Russia she struggles to rise above constant criticism from Ballet Russia’s Director, Yuri Kanofsky. But first she’ll have to dig deep and silence the doubts running through her mind if she wants to rise to their level and drive her ballet career forward.
When unexpected events turn Indigo’s world upside down overnight she’s forced to decide how much she’s willing to sacrifice to get there.
And one innocent mistake just might cost her everything.
“You.” The single word from Yuri yanks me out of my reverie. “Indigo, is it?” I nod numbly. “Come here, please.” Yuri points at the center of the floor then folds his arms and waits. I take my position there standing still.
“We begin like this,” he says, posing as I remember from the video of Irina. He shows me the first counts of eight for my solo and I mark the steps as I watch. I’ve memorized them after the second time he walks them through; thankfully I’ve always been quick to pick up choreography.
“You have it?” he demands gruffly. I nod. “Show me.” he steps back and leans on the barre at the front of the room, watching me intently, like a cat tracking a careless bird.
I spread my feet wide and bend forward at the waist, imagining the pose as I remember Irina did it. Aside from Yuri’s counting, the room is silent and still; I feel the others watching. But I can’t think about that. I must only think about the counts and where my body is going, one second ahead so I am there when I am supposed to be–
“No!” he claps loudly. “Let me see position again.” I recreate the pose I was in before he interrupted. “No.” he shakes his head vigorously. “It is like this.”
He strikes the pose. “You see?”
I don’t understand the difference but I don’t dare say anything. I nod.
“More energy in fingertips,” he suggests. I try again, this time I imagine sparks shooting out of my fingertips. This seems to work, since he lets me continue. I rise en pointe, bringing one leg into passé retiré, the toes touching the side of my standing leg near the knee.
“Stop.” More clapping. He marches over to me again. “Make me passé,” he says. I rise back into the position, more forcefully this time, but still he shakes his head. “It is impossible,” he states. “This is not passé. It must be in front of knee, like this,” he says, demonstrating.
Miss Roberta would frown on this placement, I think. Another example of how different ballet technique is from one company to the next, from one country to the next.
Still, I comply. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing to learn slight variations, to have more translations in my pocket. You never know when they might come in handy in the future. Another passé, then close in fifth position, and pirouette from fifth–
“No again.” He clenches his hands into fists this time and stomps over to Skinny Snow White. I catch the first word, “Olgachkova” and then get lost inthe flurry of words that follow, none of which I understand. When he falls silent,
Skinny Snow White nods in assent and replies, “Da.”
Skinny Snow White removes the plastic warmup pants she was wearing and makes her way over to me. Yuri flaps a hand at me impatiently, indicating I should step aside. “Olga will show,” he says, turning to her with an enormous smile of beatitude.
I edge out of her way, trying not to feel crushed. I know that having Olga dance in my place is meant to be a teaching tool, something to help me ultimately, but it still stings.
That feeling intensifies as she moves gracefully through the choreography, flowing smoothly through the passés and turns as effortlessly as a fish swirls through water. I try to focus on what she’s doing so I can learn. I’d like to figure out exactly what it is that Yuri’s looking for, that I haven’t got. Yet. But it’s almost impossible to ignore that this woman is one of the most exquisite dancers
I’ve ever watched.
I’ve told myself oodles of time I must never ever, under any circumstances, make comparisons–because comparison is always a losing game. But how not to when the glaring differences are practically smacking me in the face?
Yuri claps again. “Enough. Khorosho, blagodaryu vas, Olga. We will break. Return in twenty minutes.”
I stand paralyzed, mute with a flurry of thoughts pirouetting in my mind.
After watching Olga dance I don’t know how I will ever measure up. I want to, but it seems like an impossible task. Where to even begin? Who can help? Can anyone? What do I need to do to reach that same level of precision and perfection?
All I can think is that even if I were to sneak from my bed and dance all night long, wearing out pair after pair of pointe shoes every night up until our performances, like the Twelve Dancing Princesses fairytale, I’m not sure even that would be enough.
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Author Bio:
Grier left home at fourteen to study at the School of American Ballet in New York. She has performed on three out of seven continents with companies such as San Francisco Ballet, Miami City Ballet, and Pacific Northwest Ballet, totaling more than thirty years of experience as a dancer, teacher and performer.
Her work has been praised as "poignant and honest" with "emotional hooks that penetrate deeply." She writes and blogs about dance and has interviewed and photographed a diverse collection dancers and performers including Clive Owen, Nicole Kidman, Glen Allen Sims and Jessica Sutta. She is the author of Build a Ballerina Body and The Daily Book of Photography. Grier's work has also appeared in Conscious Dancer, Discovery Girls, Skipping Stones, and Dance Advantage, among others.
The Forest and the Sea: A Cinderella Retelling Tracy Zumwalt Publication date: November 12th 2024 Genres: Fairy Tales, Retelling, Romance, Young Adult
Reynette is desperate to escape the servitude of her step family at Laudermann Manor and the lustful desires of the loathsome, Sir Bjorn.
Lord Ehrhart seeks to please his father and their subjects by securing a future wife and future Duchess of Badenberg.
Will a chance meeting in the woods lead them to find their hope and future within each other’s arms?
The people of Badenberg are preparing to celebrate the anticipated, Midsummer Festival.
In the worn hallways of Laudermann Manor, a young servant girl longs for freedom and love. Bound by duty to her cruel step family, she yearns to attend the festival and meet a kind, brave suitor who will seek her floral wreath and therefore, declare his intent to pursue her.
Her hope takes a turn when her wreath is sought by a mysterious, yet somehow familiar man.
Meanwhile, Lord Ehrhart, son of the Duke, is under growing pressure to find a bride. Trusting his future to the Duke’s advisor, Ehrhart agrees to a series of balls to seek the next Duchess of Badenberg.
But, behind the festivities and beautiful floral decor, a dangerous scheme unfolds— the Duke’s brother and his ruthless son, Sir Bjorn, conspire to seize the Duke’s position, putting love, power and loyalty to the ultimate test.
Help arrives through an unexpected ally as Reynette and Ehrhart seek to unravel the web of deceit and hidden motives.
Extravagant balls are thrown, secrets are revealed, and murderous plots are uncovered in thisreimagining of the Cinderella story.
His father and Badenberg needed him to find a suitable wife. Ludwig’s solution was to host the two balls and hope Ehrhart found a wife among the wealthy and titled of Badenberg. But, though Ehrhart had agreed to such a plan, he couldn’t help but feel he’d find a wife on his own terms. Would that be Beatrice? He stared down at his hands loosely wrapped around the reins. Beatrice was certainly a plausible solution to his problem, but could she be a woman he’d love for the rest of his life? She appeared interested in him and his attention, but did he truly know
her intentions? He had meant what he’d told his sisters, he was interested in more than just a pretty face.
Suddenly, a loud thud echoed through the trees, followed by another and another. Then he heard a piercing crack to his left. Ehrhart peered up just in time to watch a tree fall along the path. The jarring movement and sound caused Storm to rear.
With his hold on the reins so loose, the sudden jolt sent Ehrhart out of his saddle and towards the ground.
He closed his eyes and braced for the impact, which came quickly. The wind was knocked out of him. He gasped and breathed deeply to restore the air to his lungs, but his vision was slow to clear. Squeezing his eyes tightly, he tried moving his limbs and muscles. His legs and arms moved without pain, but his back felt stiff from the fall. He opened his eyes, staring at the trees above him. Streaks of sunlight pierced the canopy.
To his left, he heard light footsteps drawing near. Someone was attempting to sneak up on him. He was vulnerable while lying on his back. An urge to protect himself flooded his senses. He grunted as he lifted his head and reached for the dagger concealed within his boot.
After drawing the knife from its sheath, he pulled the weapon into a defensive position near his face. The hilt was held securely in his palm while the blade rested upon his skin, extending up and past his wrist. He was still on the ground, but the knife gave him hope in defending himself.
He waited for the steps to get closer.
When they did, he swung his arm from his face and rolled to his left side, allowing him to look into the eyes of his would-be attacker.
Author Bio:
Tracy Zumwalt abandoned her dream of writing a novel over fifteen years ago.
But, through her daughter’s newfound love of fairytale romance, Tracy has revisited her once discarded bucket list item and entered into the world of fairytale retelling. She is all about the happily ever afters and finding inspiration in the world around her, whether that’s through exploring new places or simply savoring moments at home.
When Tracy is not crafting new stories, she is either on the move, staying active, or in the kitchen, cooking up plant-based meals to share with family and friends.
She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two children. Together, they’ve created a life committed to love, adventure and finding the joy in both the simple and complex moments of life.