I am elated to announce the release of my latest novel New Hope, Book Two in the Rostoff Family Saga! Here’s the blurb and an excerpt to pique your interest.

Love can heal the rift between them. But can it survive an act of supreme cruelty?

For five years, Natasha Sokolova has loved and cared for jewelry tycoon Dmitry Rostoff’s two children, Peter and Katia, on her own. Her nights haunted with achingly cruel dreams of unrequited love, and promises never made.

Peter’s eighteenth birthday arrives. Dmitry is returning home to celebrate. Nathasha is five years stronger, five years smarter—and she’d rather die than give Dmitry the satisfaction of knowing he broke her heart.

Dmitry put thousands of miles between him and the act of betrayal that nearly destroyed him. Only for Peter does he break his vow never to return, endure the ugly memories of an evil mother, and swallow his bitterness just long enough to make his son happy—then make his escape.

One look at the beautiful woman who stole his heart—and the angelic daughter he once couldn’t bear to lay eyes on—loosens the knot of hatred coiled inside him. The desire to free himself from his past, and his family from the prison of the Rostoff estate, sparks a plan that Dmitry is certain will succeed.

But the Rostoff matriarch has no intention of allowing her grandchildren to slip from her control. To further strengthen her dominance, she plots to create a rift between Dmitry and Natasha that is impassable—and permanent.

EXCERPT

Natasha roamed through all the rooms of the suite ready for Dmitry to occupy during his visit. It became her habit over the past few days to return here and stay for a minute or so. She didn’t know why this particular suite pulled her like a magnet. The fact that he will occupy it, sleep in the huge bed, look out of this window?

Maybe. Probably. More than likely. She drew a deep breath.

You are acting silly, Natasha. He already forgot about you.

But silly or not, she came here every day. And remembered.

Five years, Natasha mused. Five long years since she last saw him, or talked to him. She learned about him from his son Peter, Petya as she preferred to call him in Russian. From the bits and pieces of information he provided, Natasha knew about Dmitry’s life in Paris, his work, his friends. But nothing about his private life. She didn’t want to know. No concern of hers. He wasn’t her concern.

Or so she tried to convince herself. Every day for the last five years.

No, really, she cared less if he found someone else. Svetlana, his true love, died a long time ago. Life should go on with or without people we love as the natural order of things.

So, why is your life going nowhere?

Oh, my life’s just great!

Habitually Natasha debated with her opponent, her inner voice that recently disagreed with her too often.

I have a family, even friends. I have all I need; all the life I can handle!

Yeah? Then why are you coming to his rooms every night? Do you like torturing yourself?

I’m not! Torturing myself, that is. I just…

You just… what? Remember? Dream?

Well, yes. And what’s wrong with that?

Nothing, except that dreams are cruel. You should know that.

She sighed. Yes, she should. And she has. She shouldn’t even think about him, not now, not ever. Except….

So many issues bound them together.

Svetlana, the kids.

And, yes, memories.

He left five years ago without a word. Just like that. Like he never was.

She felt rejected. Betrayed. Even though she had no right to feel that way. He never said anything, never promised her anything. He never even touched her except that night in the gardens, when he held her. Close, but not close enough.

The memory of that one night haunted her for a long time. Instead of ignoring them or locking them inside, Natasha often intentionally dragged her memories from her subconscious mind, forcing herself to face them. That self-imposed torture cost her dearly, but it also helped her to accept the truth. She meant nothing to Dmitry Rostoff. Their chemistry was just a fluke born out of the shared traumatic experience. No less, no more. She accepted it, learned to live with it. But she could never forget.

Whatever happened, or rather not happened, between them five years ago didn’t die a natural death. No, a brutal amputation ended everything. And like any chopped limb it throbbed and bled. Still.

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Stella May is the penname for Marina Sardarova who has a fascinating history you should read on her website.

I write fantasy romance as well as time travel romance. I am the author of ‘Till Time Do Us Part, Book 1 in the Upon a Time series, and the stand-alone book Rhapsody in Dreams. Love and family are two cornerstones of my stories and life. All my books are available in e-book and paperback through all major vendors.