August 6th, 2026
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On Top Shelf
📚 New Books This Week 📰 Latest News 🎪 Reader Games

Fresh Fiction for August Is Here

Cowboys, castles, and shiftersβ€”this month has it all.

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Hotter than a Tuscan summer.


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Some promises cost you the one you love.


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Only she can pull him back from the darkness.


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One golden retriever knows this is love.


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Trust is the fiercest transformation of all.


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From Himalayan stargazing to the London Blitzβ€”one love endures.

Vonnie Alto

2 comments posted.

Re: Touch If You Dare (1:46am July 24, 2011):

A hero who can style women's hair. I need someone like that. Jarvis sounds like my kind of hero. I can't wait to read the book!

The one hero that makes me swoon is the Scarlet Pimpernel. There is none like him. He's dashing. Debonair. An action adventurer. A fop. A spy. A rescuer. And oh, so romantic!

Re: A Ghost of a Chance (9:28pm June 22, 2011):

I realize that everyone has psychic abilities or the potential to be psychic. I wish I knew how to develop mine. I wish I could stop things from working or see spirits. But mine is different. I often see flashes of cats out of the corners of my eyes--probably my kitties that have passed. Sometimes, I'll suddenly turn around and see bigger blobs (ie persons) but I can't distinguish the form. After my dad died, I thought that I saw him briefly. Just a flash but I could have imagined it.

I seem to have a tendency to connect or feel energy. When I was in the waiting room to see my doctor, a very anxious pregnant woman was there. I became anxious for no reason. When I walked into a bookstore (Murder by the Book?), I had to immediately leave. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with red blood everywhere.

I often get messages from the departed. Not usually verbal messages but signs that they are present. A few years ago, we didn't know that a family friend had passed away. My mom had bought me a Christmas card with a poinsettia on it and had forgotten to give it to me. We had also forgotten that she had given me that same card before. Somehow, throughout that day, she kept finding it in her hands. When she finally gave it to me, I figured out what was going on. I remember the deceased friend, Laurie always having a poinsettia in her home around Christmas. I knew she had been sick so I looked her name up on the internet and found that she had passed. I told Mom that Laurie was trying to tell us what happened to her.

I could also mention the time my writer friend died. The day I found out I went to the library. Lo and behold, there was a copy of a book she had given me, now facing me on a bookshelf. I knew it was Charlene with me. I also felt her presence at other times, too, telling me that she is with me.

But mostly I have the uncanny ability to find research when I need it or want it. In fact, I don't find it. It finds me. I can't begin to tell you how

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