Today, I'm hosting a promo, on Colleen L. Donnelly's latest release, I Have a Story, as a part of the ongoing exclusive excerpt tour. Check it out! Find the exclusive excerpt from I Have a Story in the following post.
Colleen L. Donnelly will be awarding a $15 Amazon/B&N gift card to a randomly drawn winner.
Colleen L. Donnelly
Published: May 21, 2025
Jim Turner writes crime but doesn’t live it. He respects his grandfather’s tales of heroes but doesn’t believe them. When his failing grandfather sends him to a remote peninsula to write the end of his own heroic love story, Jim includes a war criminal interview to maintain his edge.
Chastity is an anomaly, a misfit in pre-WWII culture as well as in Jim’s life. Her spritely charm and endearing features turn Jim’s world upside down, especially when she reveals his grandfather’s peninsula as the site of her upcoming wedding.
Do good journalists flee when their interviewee is murdered? Do heroes write fiancés out of another’s story and themselves in? “The End” become the hardest words for Jim to write.
Chastity is an anomaly, a misfit in pre-WWII culture as well as in Jim’s life. Her spritely charm and endearing features turn Jim’s world upside down, especially when she reveals his grandfather’s peninsula as the site of her upcoming wedding.
Do good journalists flee when their interviewee is murdered? Do heroes write fiancés out of another’s story and themselves in? “The End” become the hardest words for Jim to write.
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Author's Note: Boy meets Girl. He’s a writer. She’s an unattainable beauty. Can he pen the essence of her love for another?
“First of all, since you are a writer, would you compose a flowery announcement for the newspaper? You know, something that will make the heart go pitter-patter?”
Normally I stopped hearts in the stories I wrote. “Certainly. But to do that, we should include the location of the ceremony.” Not to mention the groom.
“Right,” she said again, then began to pace around her menagerie of colorful objects. For the first time, I noticed a collection of bracelets jangling around both of her wrists—beads, tiny pearls, and charms created a cacophony of clatter and glimmer. My gaze traveled up her long arms to the bodice of the loose shirt which fluttered in the breeze as she zigzagged through her home. “Dwayne prefers the outdoors. And I have always loved gazebos.” She tapped her lips as she continued her trek.
As if I knew what I was doing, I considered the time of year and pondered the types of flowers currently in season. Then I smacked my forehead. Here I was, Jim Turner, renowned author of suspense, plotting greenery suitable for tender nuptials instead of a mass murder. “I don’t think I’m going to be much help…”
“Oh, Jim.” She darted to me, gripped my arms, and pinned me with her large blue eyes. “You are perfect for this job. Your books prove how good you are at planning and executing a scheme. I have three days. Who better than you to pull this off?”
Dwayne came to mind. “No one,” I said instead. If my talent was enough for her, those blue eyes were enough for me.
“First of all, since you are a writer, would you compose a flowery announcement for the newspaper? You know, something that will make the heart go pitter-patter?”
Normally I stopped hearts in the stories I wrote. “Certainly. But to do that, we should include the location of the ceremony.” Not to mention the groom.
“Right,” she said again, then began to pace around her menagerie of colorful objects. For the first time, I noticed a collection of bracelets jangling around both of her wrists—beads, tiny pearls, and charms created a cacophony of clatter and glimmer. My gaze traveled up her long arms to the bodice of the loose shirt which fluttered in the breeze as she zigzagged through her home. “Dwayne prefers the outdoors. And I have always loved gazebos.” She tapped her lips as she continued her trek.
As if I knew what I was doing, I considered the time of year and pondered the types of flowers currently in season. Then I smacked my forehead. Here I was, Jim Turner, renowned author of suspense, plotting greenery suitable for tender nuptials instead of a mass murder. “I don’t think I’m going to be much help…”
“Oh, Jim.” She darted to me, gripped my arms, and pinned me with her large blue eyes. “You are perfect for this job. Your books prove how good you are at planning and executing a scheme. I have three days. Who better than you to pull this off?”
Dwayne came to mind. “No one,” I said instead. If my talent was enough for her, those blue eyes were enough for me.
Giveaway:
About the Author:
Colleen L. Donnelly put her science education to use for years and then put it behind her to pursue other passions. Her first love is writing and her second is hunting—hunting for that next good story, hunting for relics and antiques, hunting for the next good author to read.
An avid believer in work hard/play hard, Colleen splits her time between indoors and out, always busy at something.
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