Veronica Forand's Blog

RELEASE DAY – FEBRUARY 25, 2025

 

She’s the only one who can save her sister’s life…

He’s the only one who can save hers

For Zoe Goodwyn, dog-sitting for her twin shouldn’t be a life-and-death situation. But when she’s mistaken for her hard-hitting journalist sister, security specialist Noah Casey stops the kidnapper. And designates himself her bodyguard to keep her safe. Zoe knows the only way to catch the culprit is to use herself as bait—endangering her life and her heart. The heated attraction between Zoe and Noah is almost as overwhelming as the current threats, even with Noah vowing to protect her. But will this well-meaning mission lead to deadly consequences?

From Harlequin Romantic Suspense: Danger. Passion. Drama.

~~~

THE TWIN’S BODYGUARDby Veronica Forand

Chapter 1

For as long as Zoe Goodwyn could remember, she’d put the needs of her twin sister, Allison, first, even if it meant sacrificing her own needs. She’d given up career opportunities and even let go of a boyfriend or two to remain in their hometown to care for their father. Her latest sacrifice seemed mild by comparison—abandoning plans with friends to catch the ferry from Nantucket and watch her sister’s dog.

Stepping off the bus into the heart of Boston, Zoe shielded herself from the city’s loud energy, a sharp contrast to the meditative qualities of waves breaking on a sandy beach and the call of seagulls darting across the sky. The salt air in Boston felt invigorating, but the bags of trash waiting for pickup added a somewhat sour city smell that wrinkled her nose. Although Zoe enjoyed visits to Boston, she preferred when Allison traveled to Nantucket so Zoe could remain in her zen place. Not that she entirely disliked the city. Just city people. People acted differently in large groups. They had more of a survival of the fittest mentality. She preferred any groups around her to be under the age of ten. In fact, her third-grade students were her favorite people. Everyone else brought too much with them. Too much noise, conflict, gossip, expectations, and superiority. She slipped away from the crush at the bus station while texting her dad that she’d made it into the city.

Zoe relaxed as she reached her sister’s neighborhood. Few cars ventured down the one-way cobblestone road to the three-story brownstone. Pausing in front of a florist, she bought a bundle of white and pink peonies before traveling the final block to her destination. Flowers always made everything a touch brighter and more fragrant.

A woman, dressed in a pale blue shirtdress and walking a large white dog, waved from across the street. “Allison, I loved your report on stolen pets. Keep up the good work.” As a young and energetic investigative reporter for a local news channel, Allison had minor celebrity status in the city. She thrived among people and could persuade anyone to hand over their most personal stories. She also loved getting in the middle of complicated issues.

Normally, Zoe would ignore people confusing her for her sister, but she couldn’t make her sister appear unfriendly. Trying to explain that she was not, in fact, Allison, was always too much of a chore. Not many people knew about Allison’s sister, and Zoe liked it that way. Her baseball cap, ponytail and sunglasses should have kept her identity hidden. This was her sister’s neighborhood, however, so perhaps, people could see through a disguise here. She waved and mouthed thanks to the woman, who smiled and continued down the street with her dog.

Once inside the building, Zoe heard howling. Marlowe. Mrs. Peterson, an older woman with a tousled, pewter bob and a charming disposition, never disciplined Marlowe when she watched him. She preferred the bribery method in restraining him. Zoe entered the apartment and was greeted by one very excited beagle. As soon as the door closed behind her, she let go of her suitcase, kicked off her red Mary Janes, never allowed on the perfectly waxed floor, and headed to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. Marlowe’s intensity didn’t slow. His tail wasn’t wagging. Instead, he appeared distressed. He was always happy to see her, so his behavior caused her to pause and crouch down to his level.

“What’s the matter, little man?” Zoe asked the shaking beagle. Normally, he’d greet her between blistering romps around the foyer, into the kitchen, over the living room furniture and right back to her side. Now he didn’t leave her side.

She dropped the flowers on the counter and scanned the room. The kitchen and living room seemed as sterile and minimalist as always, but quiet, except for Marlowe.

“Mrs. Peterson?” she called out, as Marlowe continued his barking. He nearly tripped her as she tried to walk into the room. “Go to bed.” She pointed to Marlowe’s bed and looked around for Mrs. Peterson. She paused and stared him down. He popped into a down position on his bed, but as soon as she walked further into the apartment, he bounded to her side.

Turning away from him, she took a deep breath.

The energy inside the apartment felt unfamiliar. Something was off. Whatever created the tension in the room lifted the hair on her arms and made her almost turn around and run back out the door. But Mrs. Peterson had to be here because Zoe could smell hints of the jasmine perfume she always wore.

Marlowe rushed ahead, barking and winding up again. Zoe stalled at the door to Allison’s study. Papers and drawers and files had been tossed all over the floor. Marlowe skittered back into the hall away from Mrs. Peterson, who was face down on the floor.

Zoe rushed over to her. It appeared as though she’d fallen or maybe collapsed. A good-sized gash was on the back of her head, matting her hair with blood.

“Mrs. Peterson, are you okay?” she asked, knowing she wasn’t. Marlowe rushed toward her, barking louder. Zoe wanted to comfort him but had to focus on the unconscious woman in front of her.

“You’re here?” A gruff voice came from behind her.

Before she could turn, the stranger’s hand reached around and covered her mouth with a cloth. She tried to push him away, but his grip was strong and her ability to fight was fading. Her eyes closed, the barking grew faint, and everything went black.

 

***

My favorite heroine is back!

Untrue Colors
by Veronica Forand

It’s been two years since Untrue Colors has been available. The book is now up on Amazon and available on Kindle Unlimited.

Enjoy the thrill!!!

Meet Alex Northrop, a brilliant art appraiser with a dark past. Her ex used stolen art to fund his shady dealings, implicating her in his scheme as well until she goes into hiding. It’s not just her survival at stake – her family’s safety hangs in the balance, and she must remain hidden to protect them. Enter the dashing Professor Henry Chilton, whose world gets turned upside down when he discovers a mysterious and beautiful stranger in his bed. Things take a twist when she reveals that one of his family’s paintings is a forgery – the very artwork he had planned to use to support a women’s shelter. The discovery sets off an international adventure that neither of them saw coming. Alex’s art expertise is unmatched, and Henry’s attraction to her is undeniable. But as they embark on a quest to uncover the genuine masterpiece, Alex risks exposing her true identity and jeopardizing her life.

Join Alex as she fights against time to reveal the truth behind Henry’s forgery and unlocks the secrets of her mysterious past.

AVAILABLE ON AMAZON!

Reviewers loved Untrue Colors.

“This book was full of adventure, mystery, action, fear, anger, pain, hope, loss, family reunions and so much more…I was a little sad when I finished it because I wanted the story to continue.” – 5 Star Top Pick Review, Night Owl Reviews

“The plot is filled with globe-trotting intrigue, stolen art, secret identities, and dangerous villains, and Forand balances the suspenseful mystery with a passionate romance. Alex is an intriguing heroine–a linguistic genius and a master of disguise with an uncanny eye for appraising art. She’s complemented by Henry, a dashing anthropology professor and earl who’s dedicated his life to helping abused women and children. Their romance unfolds in scenes that are both tender and erotic. The supporting characters are also strong, including Simon, whose sexy swagger conceals an unrequited love…Detailed settings and references to real stolen art, including Henri Matisse’s 1901 painting The Luxembourg Gardens, enhance the story. A briskly paced romance featuring breathless suspense.” – Kirkus Reviews

“Untrue Colors is one of the best Romantic Suspense books I have read.” – Ellesea Loves Reading

“Seriously, one of the better contemporary romances that I’ve read in a while. The plot was very well written. It was equal parts mysterious, suspenseful and romantic.” – Christine Marie’s review for Lulo Fangirl

“Gripping, fast-paced, and wickedly unique.” – Jodi Linton, Author of “Pretty Reckless”

“WOW – a superbly written roller coaster ride that keeps the reader on the edge of their seat from the very beginning.” – Elaine from SplashesIntoBooks

 

 

The cover is here for Christmas Blizzard Rescue.

The book is up for pre orders and will be released on October 24, 2023.

 

 

Pre order now at

AMAZON

BARNES AND NOBLE

KOBU

BOOKS-A-MILLION

BOOKSHOP.ORG

HARLEQUIN

I am so excited to announce that I’m publishing my next romantic suspense in Harlequin’s Love Inspired Mountain Rescue series. I anticipate it coming out in 2023 and will keep you up to date as I learn more.

Max came into my life just over two years ago.  A golden retriever with the sweetest disposition. At first I wasn’t sure how focused and hardworking he’d be with search and rescue. A dog needs to love his work and be willing to continue searching in winter and on the hottest days of summer. At first, he was distracted by squirrels, and dead animals in the forest, and birds, he loves birds, but he loves people more. Although his training took longer than I’d anticipated with parks and recreation areas closed, he excels in area searches.

He doesn’t head into the woods in search of a specific scent. He’s an Air Scent SAR dog. That means he looks for any live human in the area he searches. Although tracking dogs who focus on a specific scent are useful, air scent dogs can cover larger areas in a shorter amount of time. Occasionally, he “finds” a hiker in the woods and I reward him as though he located the actual hidden subject.

We practice two times a week on search specific training. I also work with him on an agility course, climbing an A frame, using weave poles, jumping, tunneling, and even crossing a teeter totter. He’s always ready to go outside and train, no matter what we’re doing.

I’ll keep you updated on his progress.

-VF

I adopted a Golden Retriever in November 2019. Max. We’ve been training to certify as a Search and Rescue dog. He’ll be my third operational dog if he gets through the training. The pandemic has not been supportive of our efforts, but he’s progressed to finding lost persons in a hasty search of a trail. He’s got a ways to go to become fully operational, but he has so much love for searching that I know we’ll get there. 

When the words aren’t flowing and the manuscript gets rejected and your back hurts from too many hours at the computer, writing sucks. After fifteen completed novels, it doesn’t get any easier. The ideas have to be unique, the characters need arcs, the pace needs to move, and words somehow have to find their way from head to fingers.

This is the point non-writers ask why I would waste my time. They’d remind me that I’m not banking the amount of cash that Higgins, Grisham, and King are. I’m probably not even making the interest on their royalty checks.

Writers, however, understand. I have so many stories in my head I could sit and type for the rest of my life and never run out of plots and new characters. Creating conflicts, describing a scene, polishing up my first drafts. It’s all a labor of love. The worlds become so vivid I ignore my own family to stay with the interesting people populating my head.

Even with the pull of the words, I remain functional. I practice law, hang with my kids, chill with my husband, cook, sort of clean, and I even attempt gardening, but the words hum inside when I’m not writing and if I try to put it off, they shriek until they have my attention.

Today, I’m editing a book I love. The more I tinker with it, the better it gets. I can see the world moving from black and white to high definition color. I could take the day to work on the pile of files on my desk, go for a walk, clean my basement, or phone a friend, but despite the aching back and the need for far too much coffee than is good for me, I prefer writing.

 

It’s here. I’m beginning my fiftieth year.

Fifty.

It’s been a long road to get where I am through swamps, over mountains, across oceans, and under my covers. I spent the last year trying out fifty new resolutions to bring with me into the second half of my first century. I didn’t find fifty things to actually resolve, but along the way, I made some serious moves toward being the person I’ve always wanted to be.

Here’s a few discoveries I’ve made last year:

I’m resilient. A few things came at me like a tsunami in the past two years, and I survived them all. I might have been knocked down, but I was never knocked out. Experience makes a person stronger. I can survive some pretty good hits and that gives a confidence I didn’t have when I was younger.
My friends are my lifeline. A person doesn’t need a lot of friends, but the ones I have are priceless. They support me when I need it, and lately I’ve needed them more than ever. My hope is to make it up to them in the next half century.
Raising children is not a job for perfectionists. My kids, no matter how much I try to convince them, will not take the easy road to success that I’ve laid out for them. They push out in directions I would never go, and they face challenges that they wouldn’t be facing if they only listened to all of my advice since birth. Yet, they’re forging amazing paths that perhaps I would have been too fearful to pursue. So, as I stand back and allow them to fail when the road gets too bumpy, and watch them brush themselves off and head out into even more difficult challenges. I’m glad they didn’t listen to everything I said, because their lives are turning out perfect for them.
I’m privileged. I grew up in a middle class family with the most amazing parents. They supported me in all my efforts. Financially and emotionally. As a brand new lawyer, I married a medical student who worked hard and made something of himself. Our careers allowed me financial freedom many people don’t have. Today, his everyday efforts have allowed me to pursue careers in public service and writing while raising our children. Some of the hurdles I’ve had to jump over on my way to success were lower for me than for others following a similar path. I understand that and appreciate it, and my law practice hopefully will make the road a bit easier for others as well.
I’m a hard worker. I definitely have advantages in my life others don’t have, but I never squander opportunities. I take each task I do and commit to doing it the best I can. As I tell my kids often ( too often if you ask them), in most cases of success, it’s not about talent, luck, or genetics, it’s about showing up and putting in your best effort every step of the way. Hard workers who can overcome challenges and setbacks stand a better chance at success than someone who arrives at the top without any effort, because to stay at the top, effort will be necessary.
I can’t eat flour and sugar. Not even a little. I have no willpower when it comes to sweets. One bite of a cookie can become a plate full of cookies in less than fifteen minutes. I gave up eating the evil substances back in December and am surviving. In fact, I feel better than ever. My Youngest can even eat ice cream next to me on the couch and remain safe from me attacking her for the last bite.
Someone told me to write a bucket list for my next 50 years. It’s not necessary. I’ve achieved pretty much everything I’d wanted to achieve during the first fifty years of my life. I traveled all over the place, I met so many wonderful people, I was able to work in many fields, and I found my best friends and my home. For the next fifty years, I want to make it all matter.

 

My newest resolution? Working at a solid, steady pace, not rushing myself into an unworkable frenzy.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been finishing a book. It’s done. In the process, I fell away from some important rituals that kept me sane. Meditation, diet, normal bedtime, exercise. I was all over the place in terms of pacing. Huge amounts of words in a crazy all-nighter, then nothing the next day as I survived on coffee to function. It did not benefit my writing.

I’m starting a new project today, but I made a promise to myself to pace myself. I have a set schedule and, God willing, should move a quick, but not insane pace. I’ll keep everyone updated on it. In the meantime, I have a ten minute appointment with Headspace.

A lot of people have been asking me when the hell I’m turning fifty, since I’ve been blogging on and off about the transition for over a year. The truth is, I’ll be fifty in February. My goal was to transform myself before I hit the date.

I still have time.

My newest resolution? Don’t quit, even when a tsunami knocks you from your path.

It’s never easy, but I’m a work in progress. Every morning I begin the day with a list of things I need to accomplish. I finish some, ignore others, and never make it to the rest. But everyday, I move forward. My health is improving. My focus is better. My French isn’t better, but I don’t put any time into improving it. It’s all about choices and never giving up.

This year decided to kick me in the ass, but as I look back, I wouldn’t change a thing.

The best thing that could have happened to my writing career was getting thrown off the mountain. It’s made me regroup and go back to writing for the joy of it. Only now, experience and education has made my craft better than before.

I had a major knee injury which made me pause in my physical activity. I’ve now added a weight lifting element into my workouts. Something I wouldn’t have done without the need to improve my muscle strength to support my knees.

I gained ten pounds this past year. It was as if my metabolism had decided to take a vacation. But that’s made me really look at what I eat and when. The pounds still refuse to budge, but I feel better and have much more energy.

My family went through a tough spell. We regrouped and are a closer unit, despite one of the clan moving three thousand miles away. I would never go back to our past dynamics.

So all in all, I’m moving toward fifty at a decent pace with a better life than I’ve ever had, and a much better attitude.

Have you had a set back this year? If so, I hope you conquer it and move forward stronger than ever.