















Haunting Miss Trentwood (illustrated hardcover) signed
Cozy Victorian paranormal fantasy romance • Hesitant Mediums
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It is a truth universally acknowledged that being Victorian England's most reclusive spinster has its perks, until a lawyer, a blackmailer, oh, and your father's ghost interrupt your peace. Mary Trentwood was rather excited to read alone in her library, but cheeky Alexander Hartwell—and her father's ghost—have other plans.
A timid raindrop splashed on Hartwell’s hat brim. He scowled at the gathering clouds. It was most definitely going to rain, and he was most definitely going to be caught in it. Did that butler give him an umbrella? Oh no, that would have been far too sensible, and what did sensible thinking have to do with a house governed by a haunted lady?
Nothing, that’s what. Absolutely nothing.
Hartwell felt so exasperated he could have stomped his way down the gravel drive, through the wrought iron gate, and down the English lane to find Mary. But Hartwell was sensible and knew that stomping that distance would exhaust him, let alone take far too long. Hartwell threw the blanket over his shoulder, shaking his head. He knew what he was in Compton Beauchamp for, he just wasn’t sure it was worth all this nonsense.
Hartwell had little difficulty following Mary’s hasty retreat to the lonely gathering of trees in the middle of an empty pasture. He slowed his pace at the end of the clearing in the middle of the trees, hearing voices.
Rather, not voices, but one low voice, carrying a stilted, one-sided conversation.
Hartwell ducked behind one of the larger beech trees and shivered in the cold. On the front step before an opening that seemed to lead underground sat a woman in all black. She was looking to her left as though listening for something.
To something.
To someone?
She lifted her veil with trembling fingers. Hartwell was too far away to see her face clearly. This was definitely Mary Trentwood, however. He couldn’t think why that rascal Pomeroy would lead him elsewhere.
The wind blew, racketing a shudder through Hartwell, who hadn’t dressed for chill weather. Had he not been so cold, he might have held onto his exasperation. There was something frightening about the way Mary spoke to herself. It was almost as though she believed she was haunted.
“Oh, I am,” she said to nothing and no one. “Just not enough to ask about it.”
Hartwell stepped closer to get a better look. He winced when a branch snapped beneath his foot. He swallowed when she swiveled to fix her serious, alarmed, hazel gaze at him. Oh well. Best to satisfy his curiosity and hope the answer would alleviate the queasiness in his stomach.
“Who are you talking to?” he asked, stepping into the clearing.
Mary jumped to her feet. She readjusted her veil so it guarded her face. “Who are you? Are you following me?”
The panic in her voice reminded Hartwell that if she was haunted, then the last thing he wanted to do was raise the ire of her ghostly father. He shook his head. What am I thinking? There are no such things as ghosts. I’m tired, that’s all.
“My name is Alexander Hartwell. I watched from the library window as you escaped the manor house.” He held up the blanket. “Your butler sent me with the message that a storm is coming.”
He wasn’t sure, what with the veil masking her expression, but Hartwell thought Mary might have allowed a wry smile before a blush crept over her cheeks.
“Well,” Mary said, “if Pomeroy sent you, then I suppose I’ll have to speak to you, shan’t I?” She didn’t wait for his response before reclaiming her spot on the stone. She brushed her skirts briskly, arranging them until she was satisfied, and looked at Hartwell expectantly.
Hartwell stepped closer, incredulous. “You want to talk here?”
“What’s wrong with here?” Mary looked around the clearing, though what she saw in it, Hartwell had no idea. “It’s quiet here.”
Hartwell frowned at the sarsen stones, the way they were stacked like a deck of cards to make a shelter, of sorts, but with a flat top. “It looks like a tomb.”
Mary shrugged and flicked a speck of dust from her skirt. “I think it is.”
“It is what?”
“A tomb.”
“And you see no problems with holding a conversation here?”
“Not at all, it’s very quiet here, we won’t be interrupted.”
“That’s because it’s a tomb,” Hartwell exploded. He was going to continue, but the tree boughs swayed overhead. Not a good sign. True to his suspicion, the rain began to pour onto his hat and shoulders. He grunted.
Mary stood, brushing off her backside, and turned to stare at the tomb’s opening. If anyone was buried there, they would be nothing but bones. But still she hesitated. The woman had obviously lost her mind, Hartwell figured, or was somehow still in shock over her father’s death. Indeed, the latter explained the ghost farce quite nicely.
In any case, Hartwell, having had the misfortune of having to stand through too many rain showers, saw no reason to stand through this one. He threw the woolen blanket over his head and shoulders before dashing to Mary’s side. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her inside the doorway of the tomb.
“For someone who seems quite averse to the idea of tombs, you’re rather ready to jump into one,” Mary said. She pulled away from Hartwell to crouch as close to the doorway as possible.
There was hardly room for standing in the little cave-like structure, and it smelled of mildew. Better that than decomposing bodies, Hartwell thought darkly. He stooped, his shoulders scraping the top sarsen stone. He shuddered to know what his coat would look like after this unforeseen romp.
There was a bed of rotting leaves beneath their feet, adding to the sickly sweet smells assaulting Hartwell. A gust of wind threw a sheet of rain into the tomb, and Hartwell backed away from the opening. Mary, however, remained where she stood.
Hartwell clamped his jaw. “Would you rather stand in the rain and catch your death of cold than stand beside me?”
Mary gave him a steely glare. “I will die eventually, Mr. Hartwell, but it won’t be from catching cold, not if I can help it.”
Hartwell resisted the urge to scratch his head, puzzled as to why he felt he had royally put his foot far into his mouth. Maybe it was the way Mary’s shoulders were hunched. Or the way she was inching as close to the door as possible, and therefore as far away from him as she could get without venturing into the rain. Or maybe it was the way she had said, “Not if I can help it.”
He still couldn’t see her face very well, what with the veil firmly in place. But then, he didn’t need to see her face to talk to her.
“Miss Trentwood, I feel we’ve started on the wrong foot.”
“To say the least,” she replied.
She had no reason to be so terse with him, she could have no idea why he was in town. As he mulled over her reactions, he realized he was still holding the blanket over his head.
Mary looked very little standing there, rocking back and forth ever so slightly, shivering as she hugged herself. It must be her mourning weeds that made her so small—she looked nearly his height, and he was tall by anyone’s measure. Ashamed by his callous behavior, Hartwell stepped close enough to wrap the blanket around Mary’s shoulders gingerly. She stiffened, but when he stepped away, she relaxed. Marginally.
“Well, we won’t be going anywhere anytime soon,” Mary said. “Why don’t we share the blanket and you can tell me why you destroyed my mother’s bell pull, frightened my aunt so that she locked herself in her bedroom, and dragged me into this tomb.”
Mary looked at him then, her hazel eyes transfixing him. “Whatever it is, it must be very important.”
Hartwell coughed. In all his thirty-five years, he had never been as uncomfortable as this moment. He couldn’t tell her the real reason. For all he knew, she was part of the plot.
No, he wouldn’t tell her the truth, but some approximation of it. Something close enough to the truth that he could remember the details, as he had always been, and probably would continue to be, an awful liar.
“My sister was schoolmates with your aunt, Mrs. Durham,” he began.
“What?”
Hartwell repeated himself, unsure why Mary frowned so.
“Then you’re not my father’s solicitor? Or related to him in any way?” Mary asked, her voice flat.
Hartwell’s responding frown wavered, then exploded into an understanding smile that threatened to become a laugh. Hartwell liked to think her voice was flat with embarrassment and a sort of sheepish dismay.
“You thought I was a solicitor?” At Mary’s nod he did laugh, a little. “No wonder you ran away.”
“I didn’t run away, I went for a walk.”
“A walk to a tomb.”
“It’s my favorite spot. No one bothers me here, usually.”
Hartwell didn’t mistake her meaning. “I’ve come, Miss Trentwood, at the behest of my sister. She heard of your sorrows, from your aunt, I assume.”
Mary stood very still, her neck craned to see him. It was obvious she hadn’t noticed his scar yet. She still considered him an annoyance rather than someone to be feared. He had every intention to use this to his advantage, and made sure to stay shadowed as long as possible.
Mary shifted, pulling the blanket closer around her shoulders. “And what does your sister intend for you to do, Mr. Hartwell?”
“My sister has asked me to help in any way I can, being such friends with your aunt. Perhaps,” he said, hesitating slightly, “when the real solicitor’s representative arrives I can be of service?”
“So you are familiar with solicitors, then?”
“Oh yes, my father was one.”
“That only makes you familiar with the person. What does that mean in terms of a solicitor’s business? I thank you, but no.”
Hartwell inhaled, not expecting such a blast of sharp logic thrown at him. He fought the urge to study her expressions and guess her responses before she had the chance to make them. She was the trial, he realized, that Frank Brown had warned him about. Not the death in the family, not the unwillingness of Mrs. Durham, but Mary Trentwood.
She had a logic that rivaled many of his schoolmates. That rare sort of common sense that cut to the point and left casualties in its wake.
“I am often in the company of solicitors, Miss Trentwood,” he began.
“Do you often require their services?”
“Yes,” Hartwell snapped, “I do. I’m a barrister, Miss Trentwood. It is my profession to require the services of solicitors.”
Mary was quiet far too long for Hartwell’s liking. She seemed to be looking behind him, listening intently to something he couldn’t discern. Her expression seemed to go slack for a moment, and then tightened as though she had just heard most unpleasant news. When she spoke, finally, Hartwell jumped, bashing his head into the stone ceiling.
“Well,” Mary said, pausing for him to shake away the stars from his eyes. “First, you better sit down in case you’ve hurt yourself.” She scooted to the side ruefully, giving him room to plop beside her.
Hartwell hesitated. She had given him space to sit to her right, which would have put his scar in view. For whatever reason, he wanted to postpone the unveiling; he was, he found with great amusement, enjoying her odd manner of speaking. He didn’t want to discourage this frank dialogue by startling her. He sidled to her left and waited for her to shift positions to afford him a space to sit. She did so with her brow wrinkled in confusion.
“Second,” she continued, the way a prodded child might, “you might as well stay for dinner, since you’ve come all this way.”
Still rubbing his head, Hartwell said, “Thank you. What’s the third item?” It sounded as if Mary wasn’t quite finished.
“Third, I don’t believe your story about your sister, and I don’t like you, but we’ll have to see what my aunt says, given her supposed history with your family.” She glanced at him with a very slight curl in her lip. If Hartwell hadn’t been looking, he might have missed it altogether. “Pomeroy saw something in you, though I’m not sure what, so I’ll have to give you a chance, I suppose.”
Hartwell’s mouth dropped open. What a pert mouth on this one! Had it been anyone else, he might have given them the benefit of the doubt and excuse her manners for grief or shock. But the words and tone came too easily—this was how she was, he suspected dourly.
“Technically,” he said, keeping his tone light, “wouldn’t those be items three, four, and five? You had conjunctions in there.”
Mary narrowed her eyes at him.
“Oh look,” she said, “the rain is letting up. Do let us return and show Pomeroy he doesn’t get to hurt you.”
“Oh yes, let’s,” Hartwell said sarcastically.
Romantic rating: No or low heat content with a focus on emotion and kissing.
Why you'll love Haunting Miss Trentwood
- Grumpy father, charming suitor: A ghostly father with strong opinions and an unexpectedly delightful suitor.
- Annoyances to lovers: She just wanted to read in her library. He just wanted to find a blackmailer.
- Ghost matchmaking: No one asked for a ghost to play cupid.
- Found family: It’s not just about the living; it’s about who’s there for you, even after they’re gone.
- Comedy of manners: Proper Victorian decorum with a side of ghostly chaos.
- Slow-burn romance: Two people forced into each other’s lives… and slowly realizing they don’t mind.
- Victorian fantasy charm – A cozy, whimsical world full of ghosts and heartwarming moments.
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Haunting Miss Trentwood (illustrated hardcover) signed

Standalone cozy fantasy romance
Hesitant Mediums
It's Bridgerton vibes, with way less spice and way more ghosts. Where no-spice romance meets reluctant ghostbusting in Victorian London.
Series includes 4 novels, 5 short stories
Let customers speak for us
from 140 reviewsGreat author, wonderful follow through and very involved in the process
The stickers were adorable and I loved using the bookmark from this pack with the book!

Hier herrscht das Gegenteil von Langeweile, und es geht deutlich ernster und auch gefährlicher zu als im ersten Band. Phantasievoll, spannend und nichts für Kleingeister …

This was a bit different for me to read and the characters had a lot going on. It was a period piece centering on Tessa, a very powerful medium. Being a medium, and a young woman of color made things challenging at this time in history, but she handled it. I liked Tessa. She was smart, competent and strong. No wilting or the vapors for her. Her line of work didn't afford that. Especially with ghosts running all over the place all the time.
Called in to train a new charge (Mary), an old love reappears in her life (Jasper), with a big bad coming for her, Tessa steps all the way up with the help of her newfound squad.
The story was entertaining. The pacing was good and the plot points were relevant to each other, had enough scary to it and didn't stuck in one place for too long.
Overall, we get a sweet, tidy ending with a classic battle of good versus evil with a human soul hanging in the balance! Quite the ride!
I received a free copy of this book via Booksprout and am voluntarily leaving a review

A Spirited Engagement is book two of The Hesitant Mediums series by Belinda Kroll. This can be read as a standalone story and there is more than enough context given if needed, however, this book does carry over some details from the first book to some extent.
I absolutely adore the concept of this book (and series). Drawing on VIctorian England's fascination for Spirits, Seances and Mediums, it has the feels of something worthy of Charles Dickens (or at least an episode of Doctor Who minus the time travelling alien). Add into this a mixed race, resilient leading lady - Miss Tessa Preston - who has experience enough racism to make her wary of many.
Tessa Preston is also a medium who has the ability to see and speak to ghosts, a gift that she gained after a tragic carriage accident brought her close to death and she lost her parents. Now she has her uncle, Sir Hubert Preston, who escorts her as she takes on jobs helping people with her medium skills. That job has brought her back to London for the first time in nearly a decade, to help an old friend and his fiancé. However, things get complicated when another man from her past, who incidentally broke her heart, turns up also needing help.
Jasper Steele's biggest problem was once his mother's continual nagging for him to find a wife. But at one of those attempts to match him, he attended a seance and now has the ghost of a Society Belle attached to him and adamant that he is now her fiancé. Finding Tessa again, Jasper wants to make things right and make it clear that his intentions for her are completely honourable. Yet, in between all that there is a wild ride of ghosts, shadows, ghouls and they pose a danger to both Jasper and Tessa.
I am looking forward to the next book, which appears to follow the story of the living twin sister to the young lady ghost that had attached herself onto Jasper. Incidentally, that lady's ghost, Eloise, made me laugh with her continual antics - but being an Eloise myself, I am always charmed to see my name come up in books since it so rarely happens.
I received a free copy of this book via Booksprout and am voluntarily leaving a review.

I really enjoyed this book! Loved the characters. Tessa was excellent, and I was really rooting for Jasper. The story is more intense than book 1 and a little darker. Because of this, it wasn't as funny as the first one, but it was still very engaging. A sweet love story, and the interracial element was very well done.

This was so much fun! I had not read any other stories from this series, so I went into this completely blind. While I was definitely a tad bit confused at times, it wasn't enough to keep me from thoroughly enjoying myself on this fun little journey.
I adored the mix of historical romance, historical fantasy, ghost story, and intrigue. Belinda's writing was witty and superb, andI will absolutely continue on with this series (and go back and actually read the first book in the series!). I can't wait to learn more about Jasper and Eloise and to journey back into this world!.
Thanks to the author for a review copy of this book. I am leaving this review voluntarily.

Belinda Kroll's humor shines through as brightly - and perhaps a bit more - as it did in Haunting Miss Trentwood, and her characters are as enchanting as ever!
Jasper returns in this story to find his match in Tessa, a sassy medium hoping to prove herself. She finds her worth as she helps Mary learn to control her new medium abilities, and rid Jasper of the ghost determined to marry him. While Tessa believes they are in an enemies-to-lovers story, Jasper thinks this is his second chance romance. Let the hilarity ensue!
When I read Haunting Miss Trentwood, I desperately wanted Jasper to grow a backbone for his story, and I can assure you he does just that. The man redeems himself fully for everything he got caught up in with Mary and Alex. I honestly didn't think I'd love him as much as I love Alex, but I do! He's exactly the right man for Tessa.
By the end of the book, I was biting my fingernails for how action packed and exciting the climax was. If you thought Haunting Miss Trentwood ended with a punch, hold on to your bonnets because Tessa does NOT mess around! She's the kick butt hero I want in my corner if ghosts ever come calling.
I read this book in one sitting because I could not put it down! It was everything I loved from Haunting Miss Trentwood and so much more! I can't wait for Book 3!

I absolutely ADORED this book!
When I first read the synopsis, I was a little worried I was getting into a scary story, but I'm very pleased to tell you I had nothing to worry about. Instead of hiding under the covers of my bed I was laughing all the way through! Belinda's characters are sassy and hilarious and she weaves a beautiful sweet romance into this cozy Victorian setting.
Mary and Alex's story starts out with one of my favorite tropes - annoyances to lovers! I'm a sucker for two people who start off on the wrong foot and then completely fall head over heels for each other. Alex is just everything, and Mary feels familiar in so many ways. I adored them and cheered the whole way through as they grew to love each other. Then there's Trentwood. He will have you laughing so hard your friends and family will look at you funny as you look at your phone screen because you have to know what he's going to say next. I fell in love with all of them and was a little sad when I turned the page to the Acknowledgements because it meant I didn't get more Mary and Alex.
This whole book is darling and I love it! I can't wait for Jasper and Tessa's story and to get to see Jasper grow up - and good heavens I hope the man grows a backbone. This really is your next feel good read!

This charmingly well written story reminds me of a humorous classic Cary Grant movie. Who wouldn’t want a loving, caring parental ghost to crawl from the grave to protect them from danger? I thoroughly enjoyed this combination mystery, ghost story, and romance tale. This is one of those stories that you have terrible putting down. Definitely worth reading!

I read A LOT, so it’s rare when I see a book—especially a fiction book--that is truly something different. This is one of those rare unique books, and though I’ve finished it, I haven’t quite decided whether or not I like it.
The book feels a bit uneven to me, going between a very British tongue-in-cheek humor and a somewhat macabre Gothic feel. The dialogue felt a little stilted at times, like the author was trying a little too hard, perhaps. If the dialogue were better, I think I would have been more firmly on the “like” side of the equation.
The characters have strongly distinctive voices; you can easily determine which perspective character a chapter is written from before you read too far. The heroine is strong, cannily intelligent, and sure of herself, even in unusual circumstances. The hero is a no-nonsense guy… who has to deal with a lot of nonsense. The butler Pomeroy was a hoot, in the classically English understated way, whenever he showed up. The ghost dad was a bit gruff, but you could tell he loved his daughter and wanted the best for her.
So, this is a quirky read that you’ll probably either love or hate, depending on how you feel about a book that could be called whimsically Gothic.

this was a great short story in the hesitant mediums series, the characters had what I enjoyed from the first book and left me ready for the second book. The plot does what I wanted it was really well done.

A short story bridge between book 1 and the upcoming book 2. Miss Tessa Preston's story continues in this story. A fun short story to read. I received a copy of this book via Booksprout and am voluntarily leaving a review.

Haunting Miss Trentwood is a charming, sweet romance that will have you devouring each chapter in pursuit of answers and just more time with these eccentric characters. The ghost is very nearly the star of the show with his frank and teasing observations. That said the rest of the cast hold their own, each being interesting individuals with backstories, motives and agendas of their own.
For all the darker moments, ultimately this story is charming and more often than not the characters leave you smiling and wanting more. I loved reading every page of this story.

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Writing & illustrating cozy fantasy
Hi, I'm Belinda
Snuggle into my cozy romantasy world where comedy-of-manners charm meets 'he falls first' romance, all set in historical settings with a dash of magic.
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