A Sale, a Prize, and Goals for 2020

The Protecting Series

For years I have been a writer, a tutor, an editor, and a writing coach. I seem to be editing more than I am writing or tutoring, I do have writing projects to finish.  I don’t make resolutions, but I do make goals.  

I plan to finish my 3 or 4 book demon sisters series and 2 stories in which my buddy, the Elvis tribute artist, comes into the story to save the day.

I plan to clean out 2 unwanted and unneeded pieces of furniture left over from my divorce 18 years ago and few clothes.

Catching up with my blogs and social media is a given.

ABOUT THE BOOKS ON SALE! Each of the books is reduced to $1.99 for the next week.

Mary’s links






Follow Mary Marvella on Twitter @mmarvellab



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Just in time for Christmas: For the Love of Christmas!

Each short story shows what Christmas means to its characters.

In “A Very Bella Thanksgiving”, a 4 year old child meets her extended family for the first time. A small town Christmas parade and a visit with Santa give her more than anyone would guess. I patterned Bella after my daughter, Danielle. She didn’t start talking with baby talk, so when she spoke in complete sentences adults were confused. She was a perky and friendly little person who charmed adults who met her. Bella shares those characteristics. One never knows what Bella will repeat that she has heard. One favorite expression is “I’m no hongry I could eat the south end of a north bound mule. she learned this from her grandpa.

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Special coupon sale!

Haunting Refrain.

The code for 60 % off is UP73M

The code expires on: 2019-10-14s.


The code expires on: 2019-10-14


Forever Love. FREE

The code is: XH52Z

The code expires on: 2019-10-14


The code is: KQ32E
The code expires on: 2019-10-14

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Mary Marvella, storyteller and grammar geek!

Mary Marvella is a Georgia girl through and through!  She writes romances that range from sweet to steamy and suspenseful, as well as women’s fiction. She’s a writer, an editor, and a teacher/tutor/writing coach.

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Marvella who loved to make up stories. We aren’t talking about lies or fibs, but stories with characters who lived in her imagination. This child lived in a time long ago when few families had a television set. The screens were small and black and white, about the size of a tablet, actually. Mary’s family didn’t have a TV set, so reading and radio were their entertainment. Her family did enjoy an occasional movie at a drive-in movie or picture show. Mary loved playing in the playhouse her daddy built using wooden containers large enough to transport tanks during World War ll. Mary’s stories became more complicated as she aged. Writing them wasn’t something she considered, it was all about telling them. Her stories sometimes frightened her. 

After Mary became a teacher she used her imagination to entertain students and then her own daughter. As each book she read to and then with her daughter ended she made “what happened next” stories. Only after she stopped teaching in the classroom did she decide to write stories to sell. Finally, the romance bug bit her. Characters wandered at will in her imagination, waking her from sleep and telling their stories to her as she washed dishes and as she ran errands.  

Mary and typewriters never became friends, so she had challenges writing even a short story that wasn’t riddled with typos. Her ex got a computer for their photography studio. This miracle invention, a Macintosh with 2 gigs of ram and a screen maybe 5 X 5, opened a world where Mary’s stories could live and become real!  Computer folks are probably laughing at this! She used a dot matrix printer, a REALLY old one!

Now Mary has 10 novels on Amazon and has been hooked on writing since she used that first Mac!

Mary fell into writing Romance novels because she found Georgia Romance Writers and Southeastern Writers Association and Nancy Knight a teacher.

Protective Instincts, Mary’s first novel, is part of the Protective Series. She has two books published as M. M. Mayfield, Write Dirty to Me and Her Deception.

Contact the author:





https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mary-Marvella- Author/121044561311561


Follow Mary Marvella on Twitter @mmarvellab 


MaryMarella on Instagram

Posted in Family life, FICTION, personal and a author visit, Teaching | Leave a comment

A Pleased Teacher/Tutor

Pink Fuzzy Slippers Authors

I have been a teacher since I was five. Well, not a real teacher, except when I helped my daddy pass the GED when I finished fifth grade. Later when I was in high school I helped Daddy teach a night class in math.

After teaching in the classroom for fifteen years I began my tutoring career and have loved that I can work with a student one-on-one. I ‘d like to share this most recent thank you and proof that I am a DAMNED GOOD teacher.

This girl and I have been working together for four years. She was home-schooled and her dad moved around for his positions in hospitals. I have followed her and her brother by using Skype. They have a home in Canada and return there between jobs and so Doctor Dad can work Emergency on weekends. Dad-the-doctor expects this girl to be a doctor. We…

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My birthday book release!


Protecting Melissa is a Romantic Suspense set in Georgia.

Melissa isn’t looking for romance since the murder of her cheating, swindling husband. She wants to teach and mind her own business. However, someone her husband cheated is determined to make her repay money her husband stole before his murder in the bed of one of his paramours.
Complications arise when Gabe, her former crush, walks into her classroom to check on his son, one of her students. The kid has a secret, she knows that secret, and his father wants to know that secret.
When Gabe and Melissa leave a basketball game and find all four tires on her vintage Mustang flat, he determines she needs his protection, despite her insistence she doesn’t. Gabe and Melissa’s brother were best friends. He looked after her when she tagged along behind him and her brother. Since her brother is out of the country Gabe feels obligated to protect her, just until her brother returns.
Someone has planted cameras in her house and made intimate looking photographs he shares on the Internet with her students. Who is sending her threatening emails and how far will her go to get what he wants?


“You’re out of your mind! There’s no way that man could have been in my house. I’d know it. You’re trying to scare me. Why?”

“Just help me check things out. Look for anything he might have moved.” God, he hoped her home hadn’t been invaded. If it had he’d make her move in with him and Jay until her family returned.

Cabinets, shelves, and drawers looked undisturbed. Even a neat housekeeper was likely to leave a small space with dust, but no clear spaces or trails showed things had been moved. Nothing seemed out of place.

Hours later Melissa stared at her luminous clock face. After tossing and turning forever she was nowhere near sleep. Though she’d opened, then closed, then opened her bedroom door, shadows took on life. Settling sounds, the icemaker, clocks, and other sounds she would have normally ignored became ghost, monster, or boogie-man.

Two o’clock. Damn. Melissa threw the covers back and reached for her robe. No point staying here. Her den was dark except for the glow from the fireplace. Only quiet breathing and an occasional pop from the fire broke the silence.

Gabe slumped on the extra-long sofa. At least he could stretch out and rest. His face, bronzed by the firelight, made her breath catch in her throat. God, he was beautiful! The room was warm, but she reached for the afghan spread over the back of the lounge chair. He’d removed his boots. No holes in his socks. That made her smile. She reached out to spread the cover over his prone body.

“Wanna join me?” a deep scratchy voice asked. “There’s room. You can stretch out beside me.”

Like hell! “No can do, friend. I just came to check on you, to see if you need anything. Sorry I woke you. I’ll just get myself a glass of milk. Want one?”

“I wasn’t sleeping, either, Lissie. I was thinking about you, listening to your bed creak as you tossed and turned. And I was wondering what you wore to bed.” He chuckled at the sound of her indignation. “Yeah, I’d love a glass of milk.”

He didn’t follow her into the kitchen. She’d know his jeans were tight with his arousal. He managed to sit up without cutting off the circulation there by the time she returned with the glasses of milk.

His hard-on had calmed, but she was enough woman to make any man want to the point of pain. Tousled auburn hair framed her slender face then tumbled down her back. At least now he knew she hadn’t gone to bed with curlers in her luxurious hair. Her face, bare of makeup, looked younger than her twenty-eight years. He knew her age as well as his own, thirty-four.

He squirmed to make himself more comfortable. His body still reacted like that of a seventeen-year old around her. He’d bet she didn’t realize her cotton gown was sexy as hell. When her robe parted the clinging fabric outlined her legs. Back-lit by the firelight, it became almost transparent.

“Sit,” he ordered, pulling her down on the sofa beside him. “Drink your milk.”

He emptied his glass in several swallows as she watched. She sipped hers. He removed her empty glass from her hands and placed it on the floor.

“Just put your head on my shoulder and rest your eyes while I talk.” His arm behind her on the sofa made it easy for her to use his chest as her pillow.

“Remember the time” helped him remember he had stayed to protect her, not to lust after her.

Lissie’s body was soft in all the right places. His own was painfully hard in one particular place. She fought sleep, but she’d succumbed to exhaustion. He’d never have guessed how much he’d enjoy just holding her and reminiscing. Her laughter had been like music to his ears, low pitched, deep and throaty.

She‘d fallen asleep and he’d dozed. The first time he’d jerked himself awake her body was sprawled across his, her hand caressing his arousal. Carefully he’d maneuvered himself so she rested beside him. Like a trusting child she allowed him to move her without awaking. He moved her body so that spoon fashion, his chest to her back, their bodies aligned to make the couch long enough. At least he didn’t doze again.

Contact the author:

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07QP7LX8R/  3 ebooks for $ 7.97






https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mary-Marvella- Author/121044561311561


Follow Mary Marvella on Twitter @mmarvellab 


on linkedin MaryMarvella



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Fairy Tale Royal Wedding Gowns

I hope you can see the gorgeous wedding gowns, thanks to Linda Nightingale!

Pink Fuzzy Slippers Authors

There is a particular intrigue to the monarchies that have survived until today, be it the United Kingdom, Sweden, Norway, or Monaco.  The Royals are historic and romantic.  Like famous movie stars, they are always in the public eye.  People are eager to learn what Harry’s and Megan’s everyday life is like.

It is no wonder that the royal gown is a hot topic of discussion and the most likely to be remembered. For a few moments, let’s enter the world of the nobility.

In 1840, Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom wore a white wedding gown in her marriage to Prince Albert of Saxe, Coburg and Gotha. The plain satin gown was made from fabric woven in Spitafields near London and trimmed with a deep flounce and handmade lace from Devon. William Dyce, head of the then Government School of Design (later the Royal College of Art) designed and…

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Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

For the recipe lovers!

Pink Fuzzy Slippers Authors

Enjoy this authentic Irish Scones recipe, brought to you by a granny in County Derry, Ireland.

Irish Scones:

2 cups flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4-1/2 stick margarine
2 tsp. baking powder
4 oz. buttermilk
Set oven to 450F. Grease cooking tray and sift dry ingredients. Cut and rub in margarine.
Mix quickly and lightly to a soft dough
Turn onto a floured table and knead.
Roll and cut out small scones
Brush with egg or milk
Bake 10-15 minutes in preheated oven.
I have converted grams and milliliters and rounded off. Hopefully errors have not occurred! I also learned that sweet milk is buttermilk, and cooking butter is margarine.


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Does the Passion or Story Come First?

Welcome Addison Brae!

Thanks for hosting me today, Mary. Readers often ask what inspires plots and characters. Here are my thoughts.

  1. How do you get ideas for plots and characters?
    Life experiences, dreams, people I’ve met, and what’s going on in the world bring up the questions, ideas, and emotions that make up a story. Characters are based on stories I’ve heard, mashups of people I know, or inspired by real people like Whistle Bitch,a real bartender we met at an all-night diner in Seattle near the Space Needle. She whistled while she worked and earned the nickname from her coworkers.
  2. Have any of your characters ever shocked you?
    Yes, but do they shock readers? Gillian is hell-bent on getting justice for what she believes was murder. She does things I never thought she’d do, but I couldn’t stop her. She’s 21, naïve, and invincible. She also wants to prove to herself she has the courage to do something important.
  3. Which comes first, the passion or the story idea?
    With Becker Circle, definitely the passion to raise awareness about and stop domestic violence and inspire peopleto seek help. Becker Circle is about Gillian starting over without violence. Fresh starts come with doubts, but those doubts are rarely worse than what already happened. Like Gillian, we’re never alone. There’s always help from friends,family, co-workers, police, and organizations like Hope’s Door New Beginning Center. Here’sa scene from Becker Circle where Gillian grows stronger in her fresh start.


“That’s what I hear.” I pour another round of shots. “Be right back. Just going to deliver these.”

On my return, I run into Bradweiser coming from the bathroom. “Give me a hug.” He opens his arms and squeezes me. It’s uncomfortable. When he loosens his grip, he slides around where his arm wraps around my throat. Tight.

I gasp for breath and my tray crashes to the wood floor breaking the somber near silence.

Everything rushes back. The night Connor left huge bruises on my neck then dragged me across the floor by my hair. All because I wasn’t ready to get engaged.

This time I’m not afraid. I’m ready to fight. Feet firm on the ground I wrap one leg behind Brad and slam my knee into the back of his. His knee bends and I twist out of his tight hold.

“What the hell are you doing?” I pick the tray up off the floor and step back to a safe distance, my heart still racing.

“I’m sorry,” he begs. “I’m so sorry, Gillian. I just wanted to hug you.”

“Gillian, are you hurt?” Steve asks, stepping between us with Joey right behind him.

“I’ll make it up to you. The best restaurant in town. Sunday?”

I don’t care how much Brad’s sleepy eyes beg, it’s not happening. “I don’t think so, Brad.”

“Brad, time to go home.” Steve leads him to the door. “I’ll close out your tab.”

Rule seven of my new life—violence is a deal breaker. No exceptions.

Connect with Addison Brae on her website, TirgearrPublishing, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, or YouTube.

You can purchase Becker Circle on Amazon US, Amazon UK, Smashwords, iTunes, Kobo, B&N Nook.

Posted in FICTION, Paranormal, romance books | Tagged | Leave a comment

A Very Bella Thanksgiving

Coming soon!

Matt’s Christmas Angel

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