How extraordinary love can change our lives

In my new book Claimed by the Sheikh, I am integrating new material advocating ONE LOVE re peoples of different faiths following the brutal slaying of Moslem men, women, and children in the Christchurch Mosque attack.

Interestingly, before I shared this my readers one of my BETA readers urged me to take care with Islamic-centered themes.

“I think women love to read about Sheikhs. They are strong, sexy, exotic, spicy and unpredictable to us. Rudolph Valentino was huge. But right now, there is a lot of anti-Islamic sentiment in the world so tread lightly there.”

And she is so right. There is a lot of anti-Islamic sentiment—or rather there was a lot of malevolent feelings toward Muslim people. Especially prior to the Mosque slayings in Christchurch, New Zealand. I’m a New Zealander, and like many people globally I have witnessed the huge outpouring of love following this murderous act.

Since then sentiments have changed considerably. I’m proud to say that unlike other countries, rather than place the media spotlight of the villain, we are placing our attention of the people and their families he victimized. We are placing our focus on the innocents – of which there are many. Including some as young as two and three-years-old.

The youngest victim of the Christchurch terror attack was recently released from the hospital.


Two-year-old Averroes was saved from serious injury in the Linwood mosque attack because his father, Zulfirman Syah, shielded him from the bullets with his own body.

Syah is still in the hospital with multiple gunshot wounds. Interestingly All-Black legend, Jerry Collins also shielded his 3-year-old daughter during the fatal car crash that claimed his own life and his Canadian wife Alana Madill.

Again, because of his heroic actions, he saved his young daughter’s life. It was this scene that inspired my current WIP Claimed by The Sheikh.

And it is these recent hate-crimes in New Zealand that have inspired me to integrate more about the beauty of Muslim into my story and the values that unite us all.

Many of the Muslim killed in Christchurch people are new immigrants to our country. They have been fleeing the tyranny of distorted truths and power-hungry men of darkness. And no, it hasn’t escaped me that this hateful crime took place in “Christ …Church.”

Some men who claim to be Muslim’s have distorted the teachings of Islam—as tyrants have always done across many other faith-based teachings. Take Catholicism for example—one moment the Roman Emperor Constantine was murdering those who believed in Christ’s teachings—the next he was converting and turning his murderous degrees on those he once led and now branded as pagans.

Constantine established himself as the head of the church around 313 A.D., which made this new “Christianity” the official religion of the Roman Empire—look out if you didn’t willingly convert!

Instead of preaching and supporting universal God principals of love, compassion, unity, men of darkness only speak the language of feed fear, torture, oppression, and murder. They insist their way is the only way. Throughout history, this intolerance of others rights to believe what they like and to live in peace has fueled war after war after war.

There is no place in religion or spiritual beliefs for war. This is against all teachings. Those who encourage wars are flawed, wounded humans, not divinely inspired beings. Remember that.

Rid yourself of ignorance. Seek first to understand the unity that binds Buddhism, Islam, Catholicism, and other man-created segregation. Love. Love is the cure. Love is the road to redemption,

Give peace a chance. Do not fight back against acts of aggression with more aggression.

The ideal society according to the Qur’an is Dar as-Salam, literally, “the house of peace” of which it intones: And Allah invites to the ‘abode of peace’ and guides whom He pleases into the right path.

According to Ibn Hajar al-Haythami, there will be an era in which justice, plenty, abundance, well-being, security, peace, and brotherhood will prevail among humanity and one in which people will experience love, self-sacrifice, tolerance, compassion, mercy, and loyalty.

Help save the world from chaos, injustice, and moral collapse.

I hope from this tragedy in New Zealand that finally some good will come. My heart weeps with those who have been impacted by this cruelty. My heart prays for peace.

One of my favorite poets is the spiritual teacher is Rumi. Jalaluddin Rumi (better known simply as Rumi). He was perhaps the finest Persian poet of all time and a great influence on Muslim writing and culture. His poetry is still well known throughout the modern world, and he is one of the best-selling poets in America.

Mother Theresa once wrote, “We are all pens in the hands of a writing God, sending love letters to the word” Many of Rumi’s beautiful words hold much healing during this difficult time:

“The wound is the place where the light enters you” Rumi

“Your task is not to seek for love, But merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it!”

Sorrows are the rags of old clothes and jackets that serve to cover, then are taken off. That undressing and the naked body underneath is the sweetness that comes after grief.”

“This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all. Even if they are a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight. The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.”

“The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing and invite them in. Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.”

“Ignore those that make you fearful and sad, that degrade you back towards disease and death.” 

I share more of Rumi’s beautiful teachings in my photo book Flower Power (see details at the end of this post).

big love – developing the spirituality, or more precisely the inner character

So, while there is darkness in some peoples hearts towards Islamic teaching, in millions of other hearts there is tremendous love. Like many of the Muslim people who have had to flee Somalia, Indonesia, Iraq, and other countries, Rumi too had to flee his country.

Increasing Mongol incursions ( when he was around the age of eleven forced his family to leave Afghanistan, who traveled to Baghdad, Mecca, Damascus and finally settled in Konya in Turkey. Rumi lived here for most of his life.

Rumi was the son of a renowned Sufi scholar, and it is more than likely that he was introduced to Sufism from a young age.

Sufism is a branch of Islam primarily concerned with developing the spirituality, or more precisely the inner character, of a Muslim.

This is not what Muslim extremists and fundamentalists teach. This is not the world of ISIS. In fact, the Truth of Isis is that she is a goddess. A goddess of magic, healing, and the giver of life.  She was one of the most powerful of the Egyptian gods and goddesses, using her great powers to the benefit of people. In her capacity of the Divine Feminine, she still does.

You can read more about this beautiful Egyptian goddess of rebirth on Sharon Turnbull’s inspiring and informative site—

isis copyAs Sharon shared with me when I was researching my historical novel (still in progress) Mona Lisa’s Secret or Lisa and Leonardo (I’m not sure what to entitle my renaissance novel because someone used the former title in another work),

“There are numerous references on the web to the depictions of ‘Isis and Horus’ being the template for so many of the famous ‘Mary and Jesus’ paintings and, indeed, most Mother and Child art.”

The goddess Isis also inspired Leonardo’s da Vinci’s portrait of Lisa Giocondo – more famously known as the Mona Lisa. My friend Thierry Gallier writes more about this in his extraordinarily fabulous and intriguing book, Mona Lisa Revealed—


experience life yourself, rather than blindly following the scholars of the day

Back to the timeless wisdom of 13th-century Persian poet, and mystic, Rumi. Both he and his father were firm believers in the revelations of the Qur’an but criticized the mere outwardly legal and ritual practice that was being promoted at the time. In fact, much of his work is dedicated to waking people up and encouraging them to experience life themselves, rather blindly following the scholars of the day.

This is so important and speaks to why organized religions (or controlling religions) with dangerous men at the helm with their own malignant agendas can be so poisonous—and yes they are men—men who exclude women from leadership positions. These organized religions, including Catholicism, distort the true teachings and specifically incite the hatred, blame, persecution, and subjugation of women. As a recovering Catholic, and a woman, I speak with authority.


Another woman who speaks with authority is Queen Rania of Jordan. She is a beautiful example of a powerful Islamic woman and world leader. She has also been particularly vocal about the importance of cross-cultural and interfaith dialogue to foster greater understanding, tolerance, and acceptance across the world.

It is an absolute lie that women should not be educated knowledge is power. Malevolent men who seek to control others know this.  I love the way Rania and her husband both rule Jordan as lovers, as leaders and as equals – king and queen united to rule with light together

lovers of God

Rumi spent his early years, like many Muslims of the time, learning and studying Arabic, law, ahadith (the body of sayings of the Prophet Muhammad), history, the Qur’an, theology, philosophy, mathematics, and astronomy.

By the time of his father’s death, he had become an outstanding scholar in his own right. He took over his father’s position as one of the highest scholars in the country at the young age of 24.

He spent his time teaching and giving lectures to the public, and until the age of about 35, lived a fairly non-descript life.

Then in 1244 Rumi met a traveling Sufi, called Shams (or Shamsi Tabrizi) and the whole course of his life changed.

Shams became fast friends with Rumi, in whom he recognized a kindred spirit. The two developed a very close friendship and it was at this point that Rumi became more and more secluded, shunning the society of those he previously would discuss and debate matters with.

His relationship with Shams caused great jealousy in his family and other students, and after a few years, Shams disappeared. Many believe he was murdered, but Rumi himself did not think so.

He traveled for years looking for his friend, and it was this loss that led to the outpouring of his soul through his poetry.

He wrote numerous lines of love poetry, called ghazals, but though they outwardly seem to be about Shams, it is not difficult to see that they are in fact poems describing his overpowering love of God.

Shams’ effect on Rumi was decisive. Whereas Rumi had before preached Islam soberly, he became, through Shams’ influence, filled with the love of God. What was inside his soul finally came out.

love of God is what unites all faiths

I love this. Love of God is what unites all faiths. Where things stray dangerously is the various names people called GOD. A number of traditions have lists of many names of God, Some Quakers refer to God as The Light.

Another term used is King of Kings or Lord of Lords and Lord of the Hosts. Other names used by Christians include Ancient of Days, Father/Abba which is Hebrew, “Most High” and the Hebrew names Elohim, El-Shaddai, Yahweh, Jehovah, and Adonai. Jehovah’s Witnesses call God Jehovah. Allah—meaning “the God” in Arabic—is the name of God in Islam.

There are multiple names for God’s Various Forms worshiped as Deities (Devata and Devi) in Hinduism.

“The one God”, used to signify a monotheistic or ultimate Supreme Being from which all other divine attributes derive, has been a subject of ecumenical discourse between Eastern and Western scholars for over two centuries.

What is needed, as it has always been needed—is the development of closer relationships and better understandings. What is needed is more tolerance and acceptance of people’s right to believe what they like in the name of peace, love, and healing.

love wins

I am a New Zealand author. I stand for love. I write about love. I tell stories about forgiveness, healing, and compassion.

The terrorist attack in Christchurch against people who are also standing for love, praying in their sacred place, is shocking and distressing to me.

War, prejudice, and hatred have no place in our hearts.

Say no to hatred, bigotry, violence, and retribution.

Affirm yes, yes, yes to love.

Yes yes yes

Say no to glamorizing, and publicizing and making famous through over-indulgence in the media the stories of those who perpetrate acts of terrorism and unconscionable crimes against humanity. Yes, yes to sharing real and heartfelt stories of the lives of those impacted through everyday senseless crimes. Bring into our consciousness, our hearts, and our deepest compassion the innocent lives who suffer needlessly.

proud to be a New Zealander

I am proud to be a Kiwi – especially when I see the tremendous outpouring of love following the attack. I am especially proud of our Prime Minister (who also inspired scenes and dialogue in my romance novel Claimed by the Sheikh).

She has embodied the divine feminine qualities of love, compassion, and strength. She ruled quickly to outlaw weapons of mass destruction – semi-automatic rifles that make it easy for cowards to slay innocents.

She ruled that we shall not allow him to bask in publicity. We shall deny him his murderous misclaim to fame.

Inform, educate, break down barriers… see what unites

Here’s a wee draft excerpt from Claimed by The Sheikh:

“For an educated woman you are very misinformed,” Tariq said, his tone laced with sardonic derision.

He stood in front of her—a tall man, broad-shouldered and formidable, the starkly moulded framework of his face highlighted by the spurt of flame from the torches.

He exuded authority and a compelling magnetism that still keep her pulse soaring. But Melanie’s face heated under the sting of his criticism. She silenced her retort and looked steadily at him, imploring Tariq to enlighten her.

“There is more that unites us then divides us. Islam is not about oppression. It is not about murder. It is not about suppressing all that is beautiful.  Beauty is God. God is love. Evil, malevolent men have taken the teachings of Mohammed, God’s messenger on earth, and twisted them. We believe as Christians believe, as many people believe, in the language of love. God commands us to be of service to mankind. Service to humanity. Service to ensuring peace and kindness and generosity. Above all we rever beauty. We honor and celebrate and dedicate ourselves to the beauty that Allah, the creator, God, call him what you, has enabled us to create. This is the true path. It’s what distinguishes us from animals.”

“Are you saying that rather than seek to dominate the world that Islam encourages unity and equality among all individuals, regardless of age, color, gender or social status? Don’t you don’t support the creation of a totalitarian state?”

“Isis,” Tariq said simply.

“Exactly,” Melanie said, more confused than enlightened.

“Isis is not an organization,” he said, the force of his anger flaring in his eyes. “Isis was a woman. A goddess. An agent of healing. Those who taken her name have taken this Truth and twisted her and made her an object of evil just like they did with the swastika in Indonesia. Just as they distorted Mary Magdalene, the Virgin Mary, and other powerful women.  Sinister, flawed humans take strong powerful women and then turn the divine feminine into something malevolent. The world is in danger of being overcome by fear and tyranny. I for one stand against this. What does ISIS stand for?

Melanie shrugged, “Islamic State?”

“I and S. Where is I and S and I and S. They don’t make sense. Rational, right minds know this. They should be called ‘WAS’…. they are nothing,” Rage ignited his words. “No, not nothing,” he corrected. “They are evil. They seek to repress all that is beautiful. This is how you see their true face. They are the face of darkness. They make everyone wear black. They force everyone to abandon the beauty of color. We must recreate beauty. We must be the face of light. We must be the lamp of love.” As he spoke the torchlight arched toward him, illuminating his amber eyes, sparking with intense emotion.

“The group’s use of Islamic scripture is illegitimate and perverse. The practices employed by the Islamic State, who incidentally have no sovereign authority to speak on behave of Islam are explicitly forbidden by Islam—torture, slavery, forced conversions, the denial of rights for women and children, and the killing of innocents. It is abhorrent.”

Melanie felt her respect and admirable for Tariq soar in the wake of the passionate conviction with which he spoke. She had misjudged him. She had been ignorant. And worse, she had been manipulated into believing all Islamic people supported the Islamic State.

“I will continue to lead my people to rise up against evil, to expose their distorted truths, to shed light on their lies, to fight against all that stands in the way of peace—their reign of terror will die. In the end, love wins. We know love wins.” He looked at her deeply and intensely allowing the word to linger in the space that separated them.

“I’d like to believe that,” she said. “Sometimes it just seems so—” she shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems like there is so much evil in the world. I just feel so powerless. But I’d like to do what I can. I’d like to help you create something beautiful here in N’avana. Something to show the world that we care.”

A smile danced across his lips. “You really are the most beautiful woman.”

For a moment she was thrown with this unexpected compliment.

“You are beautiful not just on the outside but on the inside. Kindness, compassion, beauty shines from your eyes,” he said drawing closer to her. “There is more that unites us then divides us, my love.”

She could hear her chest rise and fall as he stood in front of her, not taking his gaze from her face. She studied her toes, kicking the hot desert sand with her left foot.

Tariq lifted her chin with his long, tapered fingers so that her eyes met his. “Love wins” he said and then he pressed his sensuous lips to hers and kissed her.

I hope you enjoyed that wee excerpt. It’s just a draft at this stage. One that, together with my blog post, may give you, what I hope, is an interesting insight into my writing process.

Blank white book w/path 


Flower Power: How Extraordinary Beauty Can Change Your Life

Who doesn’t love flowers?

Beautiful photography blends with the timeless wisdom of 13th-century Persian poet, and mystic, Rumi, to inspire, delight, and heal.

Aesthetically, we know that flowers enrich our lives and symbolize our emotions, yet they also have the power to restore and replenish us on a mental, physical, and spiritual level.

Whether you’d love a gorgeous book to grace your coffee table or waiting room, a place to retreat to when you need a lift, or you’d love to purchase this book as a gift for someone you love, “Flower Power” will provide lasting benefits and a greater sense of appreciation for one of nature’s most stunning and diverse wonders.

In “Flower Power: How Extraordinary Beauty Can Change Your Life”, Amazon #1 bestselling author, of “Stress Less. Love Life More: How to Stop Worrying, Reduce Anxiety, Eliminate Negative Thinking and Find Happiness” and “Bounce: Overcoming Adversity, Building Resilience, and Finding Joy”, Cassandra Gaisford (BCA, Dip Psych) shares one of the simplest and most profound ways to boost happiness and joy.

Drawing upon her love of flowers and favorite inspirational words, personal photographs and professional success as an award-winning artist, and holistic therapist, discover how extraordinary beauty can change your life.

“Simply Stunning.”


Available in hardcover here—

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Yusuf Islam, formerly known as Cat Stevens, performs at the National Remembrance Service following the Christchurch Mosque attack at Hagley Park—

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The Gemstone Billionaires Boxed Set

Three Book Box Gemstone Billionaires

“You’re the one” –  tender love in exotic locations grab these sophisticated & sensual escapist reads today. Lose yourself in these beautiful stories of broken hearts and second chances.

The Gemstone Billionaires Boxed Set contains the first three books of AMAZON BEST-SELLING author Mollie Mathew’s romantic series set in the captivatingly beautiful and exotic landscapes of New Zealand, Fiji, and Mexico.

If you adore beautifully written stories and true heartwarming sensual romances which sparkle with humor you’ll love traveling along the road to love with these changing and evolving men and women as they open their heart’s again and find true love.

The first three Gemstone Billionaires books (over 650 pages) included in this bundle are:


The Italian Billionaire’s Christmas Bride

What if the person who is so, so, so wrong for you is really so, so, so right, but you’re too afraid to give love a chance?

Last Christmas, art therapist Issy Riley was jilted by her fiancé. This Christmas she’s running away. A week with a client on his private Fijian island promises to save her from cheating men and the London festive season. But when the client turns out to be a gorgeous and magnetic Italian billionaire, he threatens her resolve to never again trust her heart to the wrong man.

As the tropical heat soars, they discover that in this battle between work and play, resistance only fuels attraction—and sometimes two wrongs make a very passionate right.

The Italian Billionaire’s Scandalous Marriage

Three women. Three lives. And the lies that bind them. Why is everyone afraid of the truth?

When a lonely young American woman inherits a painting she discovers her whole life was a lie. Desperate for the truth, she goes in search of her true identity.

The painting is her only clue. But everyone is determined to keep its secret past repressed, including Vitaliano Rossi, the Italian gold tycoon, unnaturally suspicious of her motives, who wants the painting vanquished. How can she discover who she really is and convince him that his love means more to her than gold?

Flight of Passion

Past love and passionate obsessions. What will you do when love flies back into your life? 

Billionaire investor Oliver Hart is used to getting what he wants. Single, thirty-five and a committed bachelor, he plays by his own rules. On a personal quest to discover a rare, elusive and very valuable butterfly, he’s unwittingly distracted by a former flame, Ruby Diaz—a woman who callously abandoned him eight years earlier. Deciding he wants to reclaim the beauty as his own, in his mind, it’s as good as done.

But Ruby is not his for the taking. Risking everything to help the woman he loves to gain her freedom, Oliver entangles himself in an emotional net that alters his life forever.

These standalone sensual & sophisticated romance novels guarantee a HEA, and tales of romance that will capture your heart.
Reader reviews:

“Fast paced, heart-wrenching, completely unexpected twists, excellent storylines, and a hell of a good read.”
~ Rae Waterhouse

“This book contains carefully crafted, truly original love stories. Mollie’s wonderfully descriptive narrative paints a picture in which it is easy to lose oneself. A touching and heart-warming book, well worth a read.”
~ Cathy Rioran

“Mollie Mathews has written a beautifully scripted story of two people wildly attracted to each other but too constrained by family expectations to allow themselves to commit. When they meet again after eight years can they move beyond old patterns of behavior or are they doomed to always want, but never have?”
~ Jane Whitmeyer

“Mollie is just such a good writer with enormous appeal in her story – an excellent read on a rainy day.”

“An enthralling read. Keeps me captivated from start to finish and leaves me wanting more.”


The Gemstone Billionaires Box Set is a fun read with healthy doses of escapism.

If you love reading contemporary women’s fiction, clean romance, and true love stories you’ll love escaping into these sensual and sexy romances with this beautiful three-book box set.

Pick up your copy today by clicking the BUY NOW button

Here’s a wee peak at some of the settings—all photos by moi!:


P1030980Screen Shot 2017-03-17 at 2.29.27 PMcentral otago lake


img_7538alpacas and me crouching

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Romance books set in New Zealand

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Coming soon…large print! Now you won’t have to reach for your glasses to fall in love:) I hope to have the large print ready for Valentines Day…The Kindle version is available for immediate enjoyment by clicking the following link. Normal print is also avail…
This was such fun to write—and set in an extraordinarily beautiful part of New Zealand.
fun, suspenseful and full of romantic longings
“A great read for anyone, like me, with a passion for art and a love of mysteries embedded in a painting. Bride of Gold is light, fun, suspenseful and full of romantic longings – everything I love in a book. I also enjoyed the New Zealand setting and learning more about this beautiful country. I do love a good Mollie Mathews book!”

~ Lauri

an engaging and passionate read
An engaging and passionate read. Once again Mollie Matthews delivers a story full of passion and makes me keep turning the pages. Mollie’s writing is engaging and I didn’t want the story to end! I’m looking forward to the next one!”

~ Alli 

an awesome read
“An awesome read. Just love Mollie Mathews style. There’s a good story as well as the romance, the passion and the pain that goes with deep love. Just had to keep reading – abandoned the chores until I had reached the end. More please Mollie.”

~ Rae

so much passion
“What a wonderful book Bride of Gold was. I just couldn’t put it down, but glad to read it in the nights. How wonderful you have written this love story with so much passion and fighting for love and acknowledgment one can give. Thanks once again to have been able to download it and enjoy it with so much eagerness to just keep on reading. Keep up your good work in writing. Such wonderful loved filled clean romantic books. Full of passion, love and tenderness. Words can’t describe the real way I found this book. Fantastic.”

had me laughing, crying and gasping
“I loved, loved, loved this book.  It had me laughing, crying and gasping following the back and forth between Alexandra and Vitali!! I now want to go to New Zealand even more than I did before.”

~ Glenda

Escape the chores—throw yourself into a great New Zealand-based romance today!
The Kindle version is available for immediate enjoyment by clicking the following link. Normal print is also avail…
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Danielle Steele and the joy of working on many projects at the same time

Currently, I’m writing a short story about my recent toxic work experience. The working title is, I Want You To Want Me. It’s a love story—so yes, it will have a happy ending.
I can relate to Danielle Steele who says she works on many projects at the same time. You can read one of many articles where she shares how she manages to be so prolific here>>.
So rather than lose heart about all my loose threads my focus is on weaving them together into a neat completed bundle of soon-to-be-released books.

One of these loose threads is my new novella “Love Me As I Am” – Book three in the Seven Sister’s series.

This story was sparked by a true event—the tragic murder of a mother and one of her daughters in a small town near where I live. I wondered how would her death affect the children she left behind. How would it affect their lives? What if something good could come from this tragedy?

So I began to write a love story. For love is the only antidote to hate. Forgiveness, the only path to healing. And purpose the gift that can come from tragedy.

As with all of my books, some of the characters and events in the story were also inspired by true events in my own life. Including, when my paternal grandmother was channeled by a psychic. She asked my disbelieving and skeptical self, “Your grandmother says you don’t believe she is here. But she is holding out a flower, and she wants to know, “Do you remember the jasmine flowers growing over the house?”

I didn’t.

But when I drove home I called into to Araby Lodge, where my grandmother used to live and where until her death, she bred and trained her beloved horses. At the time my father lived in her house. I asked him, “What is that vine growing over the house?”

I didn’t want to tell him anything about what the psychic had said because I was still skeptical and I didn’t want to influence the answer. My father said, “Oh, that old jasmine vine? That’s been there forever.”

My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. It was at that point that I began to believe in spiritual and psychic phenomena, and in time, many years later, to awaken my own gifts.

I named the story, Love Me As I Am, for isn’t that the deepest love of all. To love and be loved unconditionally—weirdness, flaws, fears, insecurities, our beautiful uniqueness…and so much more.

These introductory novellas are currently published under the series: PASSION DOWN UNDER SASSY SHORT STORIES:


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And of course, there are my standalone love stories, Love in Venice, and also Claimed By the Shiekh. I adore these stories and really want to do them justice, as I do all my stories.

If you’re new to my love stories and clean romance you may enjoy, Flight of Passion—a rapturous tale of love and obsession. Available in ebook and paperback from all excellent retailers, including Amazon here:

Sign up for my mailing list and get a free preview of Flight of Passion—



P.S. Would you enjoy a fun and frisky 30 minute read? Download TWIST OF FATE for free here— It’s a short story set in my former hometown, Wellington. New Zealand. 5-star reviews!

If you love it, or any of my stories, would you consider leaving a review on Amazon and Goodreads? 

Thank you!


cassie colour jan 2019 img_1695

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Love Me Forever…a stunning new love story


I’m so excited about my soon-to-be-released “Love Me Forever”….a sassy short story for a quick, fun read. And I’m super pleased with my first 5-star review:)

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I’ve always believed in magic, so it was natural when, after the still-birth of my sister Sophie and her husband’s first son, and she was struggling to conceive naturally and IVF had failed, I wrote a prayer. I buried my wish beneath the ancient walnut tree in the middle of a beautiful vineyard, in Marlborough, New Zealand—tucked inside a walnut.

As I wrote in Love Me Forever, “As she gazed down at the note she thought with satisfaction that the wish looked like twins lying nestled in their crib.”

And that’s virtually what happened. Several years later, Freya, appropriately named after the Norse goddess of love, was born. Quickly followed by her brother Finlay, meaning ‘fair hero.’ A better name couldn’t be had! As I wrote the final draft of this story (24 Feb, 2018) it was Finnie’s seventh birthday!


Here’s a wee insight into what this story is about.


Sometimes the end is just the beginning…

Viticulturist Joey Harper’s organic vineyard is under siege from neighboring landowners with chemical sprays, wanting to turn a fast profit, and someone purchasing large tracts of land under incredible secrecy.

But Joey’s not someone who dwells on her own troubles. She has only one wish—following the still-birth of her sister’s first child, she prays her much loved younger sister may conceive again.

Using her inherited gift for magic, she enlists the aid of the ancient walnut tree which towers majestically over her organic vineyard. What she doesn’t realize is that her one wish, begets another, and her unselfish desire for her sister’s happiness send’s love to her—in the form of a most unsuitable and irresistible admirer.

Venetian winemaking tycoon Tomasso Rivetti has it all: a loving family, good looks, and a considerable fortune. When he ventures Down Under to New Zealand, underneath his apparently perfect world, cracks begin to appear…and no one is more surprised than Tomasso when the billionaire lifestyle he takes for granted is turned upside down by a chance encounter.

But despite Tomasso’s determined pursuit of Joey’s affection, her broken heart remains closed—to protect herself and her vineyard from a terrible threat.

Distance keeps her safe. But as a final battle draws close, Joey and Tomasso are drawn irresistibly together. And while they succumb to the heat between them, they both know there can be no tomorrow…

The prequel to the magical new series, The Seven Sisters, from bestselling author Mollie Mathews, Love Me Forever is a spell-binding story of heartbreak, family, destiny and unconditional love.

If you enjoy romance with fantasy elements you’ll love this powerful new love story

‘Tugs at the heartstrings’

‘I love Mollie Mathews’

‘Heart-warming and beautiful with passion’

Love Me Forever is available for pre-order now—

This short story is a prequel to the first in a magical new series, The Seven Sisters, from bestselling author Mollie Mathews—seven spell-binding stories of heartbreak, family, destiny and unconditional love.


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Free Excerpt: Married by Christmas…

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Che cavolo! No! No! No! This will not do. Only an anorexic model could wear something that resembles a straw,’ thundered Massimilliano Balforni, CEO of Emporio Balforni, Milan’s most prestigious fashion house. His coal black brows knitted in a fierce line as he looked with disdain at the scatter of sketches the young designer splayed on Max’s 15th Century walnut desk.

His protégé began to protest but one piercing look from the maestro forced his lips shut. His body stiffened as if frozen to the floor, reminded that his employer’s wrath was more dangerous than black ice

‘Alexandria Gorbetz is a real woman, the world’s richest woman, and someone like me that demands perfection.’

Max’s mouth curved in a controlled smile. Was that fear he detected in the young man’s face as Max pierced him with his dark gaze? He had every reason to be afraid. Enemies and friends alike knew Max had destroyed promising careers for lesser transgressions. Infinitesimal precision, extraordinary control, unrivaled beauty—Max suffered nothing less.

Pressing his fingertips to the smooth, cool parchment, he paused momentarily as a childhood memory stirred in his consciousness. He sucked in a breath and swept his hands brusquely across the page. He was no longer the lonely child who furtively sketched movie stars in beautiful clothes and dreamed of a Hollywood life.

What was once an escape was now a thriving commercial enterprise with insatiable demands. Max flourished his gold fountain pen across the page, adding a sweep of curves to the hips and breasts of the bespoke wedding gown his fashion house had been commissioned to design.

Now at the helm of his multi-billion dollar empire, Max was no longer a hands-on designer, but nothing went out the door without his final veto. Some called him a control freak and this he took not as a criticism but as the highest compliment.

He waited to feel the rush of joy he used to feel when drawing as a child. He stopped to await the all-consuming love that arose from knowing that no one possessed his raw talent and genius. He paused to feel the pride that came years later from knowing he designed dresses perfectly, to satisfy only one client on her most important day. There was nothing.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. He had long ago accepted that he was unable to feel the joy that other people did. He’d turned off that part of himself years ago and had vowed never again to succumb to vulnerability. In its place, carefully groomed aloofness and instilling fear in others were traits he prized and relentlessly cultivated.

As his protégé braced for the consequences Max forced his thoughts back to the commission. While he felt nothing in his heart, what he did experience as he looked at the drawing of the wedding dress executed to his design was a coolly detached appreciation that satisfied the perfectionist in him.

The lines and structure now conformed absolutely to his definition of ideal. The controlled steel gray pallet reflected his personality and every detailed aspect had been meticulously executed as he had commanded. No randomness or chaos anywhere.

Having witnessed his parents’ brutal marriage and subsequent divorce, Max had no misguided notions of happily-ever-after, nor any desire to marry.

Perfection in relationships was simply unattainable. But the knowledge that he was at the helm of an empire that created exquisite, extraordinarily elegant gowns admired by the world’s most elite, at the same time preserving a historic tradition, filled him with a degree of pride.

But as for the rest of his life—the personal, emotional side—he felt nothing. And that suited him perfectly.

Max’s long supple fingers drummed an impatient rhythm on the armrest of his chair. ‘Allora?’ Well? People react to fear, not love, he reminded himself as he kept his voice soft, but somehow containing all the might of the towering spires of the Duomo looming beyond his window.

A slither of fear crept into the young designer’s hushed apology. ‘I should have thought more about the woman beneath the dress.’

‘Thinking is not enough,’ Max commanded, his voice a dark, stark thing in the quiet of his office. ‘You must apply.’ Taking the drawings in both hands he tore the pages down the middle. ‘Begin again, and this time bring me excellence.’

Ignoring the tiny pin like tremors piercing his chest Max pushed back from the desk and rose to his feet as the young man retrieved the torn fragments and scuttled quickly toward the door. Striding across the room Max willed his racing heart to cede to his control.




‘Calm yourself, please Maxie,’ Sophia Balforni said, sweeping into his office she cast the young man a sympathetic look as their paths crossed. ‘Have you thought about what I suggested?’ she asked, gesturing to the art therapy brochure peeking from beneath a pile of contracts.

‘I am surrounded by amateurs and now you want me to play like a child, mia sorella. I have never heard something so ridiculous.’

‘You’re my brother. The best brother in the world, but do you know what’s holding you back? You’re afraid of losing control. You’re afraid that without all of this, she said, sweeping her hand around the room, ‘you’re worthless.’

‘But all of this means nothing if you’re dead. And none of this means anything without someone to share your heart and soul. I hope one day you’re able to realize that you’re wonderful for who you are, not just for what you’ve accomplished. But most of all I hope you’re able to experience the unconditional love and support of someone who loves you for you.’

Max was neither given to excessive emotion nor impetuousness but his mood wrestled with his need for control. He threw open the shuttered windows of his office and inhaled the frigid Milano air with shallow, measured breaths.

He ran his hand over his broad chest, fingering momentarily the fine scar snaking across his heart. His mind had the endurance and stamina of one thousand oxen but two months ago his body had betrayed him.

His gaze swept down the Piazza then flew up the spires of the Duomo, dusted with snow and bejeweled in dazzling pre-Christmas lights as the cacophony of Vespas buzzed like irritated wasps through the open window.

Although he had always hated Christmas, he loved tradition and he loved the supreme elegance that the Milanese never failed to deliver, but it pained him to concede that never had his beloved city been so irritating. In fact, everything, and everyone was irritating. Even his designs bored him. He knew better than most that he must continually innovate or die. Grudgingly he accepted his sister was right. He needed to get away.

‘I admit it’s a little unconventional,’ Sophia said, taking an assortment of pills and vitamins from a gold embossed pillbox and, after pouring a glass of mineral water into a crystal tumbler, she passed the pills and water to Max.

‘Unconventional?’ Max tossed the pills into his mouth, took a gulp of water and threw back his head, grimacing as they slid down his throat. ‘What you are suggesting is childish.’ Childish, isn’t that exactly what his father had thrown in his face when, as a young boy, he’d first shown him his sketches. ‘If this got out to my competitors,’ he said, forcing his mind from a memory he vowed never to revisit, ‘can you imagine what it would do to my reputation?’

‘Not nearly as damaging as being paralyzed by a stroke and having to be spoon-fed, Sophia snapped. ‘And since when have you cared what others think? Besides, you have an island on the other side of the world.

‘One which you’ve been too busy to visit. Fiji is remote enough for you to step away from the constant flash of cameras and be virtually anonymous,’ she said, lowering her voice as Max’s new PA cat-walked into his office. ‘Call yourself Mr. Johnstone, or Mr. Smith, or whatever else you want, to protect your privacy.’

Beneath long-fringed lashes the PA gave Max a sultry look, trailing her gaze over his lean and muscled form, as she placed a collection of fashion magazines and media cuttings in a neat pile precisely as she’d been trained.

‘Thank you, that will be all,’ Sophia said, dismissing her.

‘A nudist camp would be vastly more appealing,’ Max’s gaze trailed after his PA as she left his office. While he had no time for relationships, that didn’t stop him from appreciating beauty. How much easier it would be to lie naked amongst a bevy of loveliness than expose his feelings to the spotlight.

Sophia rolled her eyes. ‘I can just imagine what that would do to your blood pressure. Art, unlike making a career of intimately studying the curves of women, my dear brother, is therapeutic.’

‘So you want me to go to kiddy school and make a fool of myself.’ Irritation coursed through his veins as he ran his fingers around the neck of his shirt and loosened the starched white collar.

‘You never had a childhood,’ Sophia said, her voice almost a whisper. ‘You grew up too fast. We both did. And now you’re a thirty-five-year-old man who may not see forty.’

‘I know you are trying to help but I told you I can handle it.’ And he would. He would never abandon his responsibility. Unlike his father who had tried to combine work with marriage and failed at both, Max had gladly sacrificed his personal life for his career.

Abandoned at birth by his biological parents, raised briefly by strangers, then dumped in a boarding school, he had turned what could have been a weakness into his biggest strength.


‘All this stress has engulfed you, Max. Only you can’t see it. And it scares me. You’ve become a shell of yourself—more than you were already. A man so cut off from his feelings that you are devoid of emotion. You’ve become a lighthouse of a man—lonely in a crowd, aloof and detached. Uncaring.’

The words bounced off Max’s chest like the final shards of Milan’s winter sun reflecting off the panoramic glass windows. It was true. He no longer cared.

‘What do you want from me, Sophia?’

She paused, concern pooling in her dark eyes. ‘I want what our mother wants. I want you to be happy.’

His lips curved into a tight mocking smile. When had his real mother ever cared about his happiness? He knew what she really wanted. After suddenly reappearing in his life, she wanted a daughter-in-law and she wanted a grandson. Max shook his head and gave a short exacerbated sigh. She wanted the impossible.

He plunged his hand through his hair, raking it back from his brow. He should have had it cut razor short last week. Instead, he’d thrown himself into the rollout of his retail network of 60 Massimilliano Balforni boutiques and jewelry stores throughout China, and the pending development of his luxury hotel in Dubai, with such single-minded, unrelenting focus there had been no time for indulgences.

‘I’ve done my research,’ he said, adding his signed consent to the final contracts, ‘and from every angle it all seems based on spurious psychology.’ His hand closed around the pen as he looked up sharply.

Sophia sucked her breath as though steeling herself to battle with his formidable will. ‘Unless you make some changes, and I mean massive changes,’ Sophia glanced momentarily in the direction of Cimitero Maggiore, Milan’s largest cemetery, then fixed Max with a penetrating gaze, ‘you’ll end up like our father. Morte.’

‘That will not happen to me,’ he said, balling his fingers into a fist. ‘I am nothing like our father.’

‘No, you’re not. You are loyal, honest and immensely generous to the people you care about—nothing like our father. But you are an unrelenting workaholic like he was. No better than an addict, because despite all your willpower, all your determination, all your talent, all your wealth you can’t stop working. My God, you even live above your office.’

Mia sorella, even if I wanted to go finger painting, which I do not, there is no way I can get away. People need me. I cannot just walk away without everything collapsing.’

‘Even geniuses need time out to replenish. Super-heroes too,’ she laughed. ‘You, Clark Kent, need a rest from being Superman, a week out of this world. Not eternity. I will take care of things until you’re back.’

The blood vessel in his temple pulsed, whether out of conviction or rebellion he didn’t know, but her suggestion was not without merit. His sister had proven herself capable in so many ways since her appointment to Director of Public Relations.

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers against his lips as he savored a compelling idea. What if he could achieve several goals by leaving Italy? While he did not believe in fate, he did believe in destiny. Was it not destiny after all that had led him to this career, launching him from male model to CEO of a multi-billion dollar empire?

Max began to wonder if his recent conversation with some Fijian silk merchants was also pre-destined. Until that meeting he hadn’t known there was such a large population of Indians in Fiji, and he’d been intrigued by the innovative textile developments they had shared with him.

And he could maximize efficiencies by going undercover and checking out his hotel chain in the Pacific. Yes, he thought, warming to the idea, perhaps a change of scene, getting away from all things European might just revive his flagging spirits.

His creativity was blocked, young designers were licking at his heels. He needed to continually innovate, but nothing inspired him. The plan was worth considering after all. Nothing else had worked. Plus it would get Sophia off his case. And the art therapy gimmick she was so convinced he needed?

What could any dowdy art therapist do to him that he couldn’t control?




‘First time to Fiji?’ the porter asked art therapist Issy Riley as they wove past the rows of poolside loungers. Bronzed men and women wearing barely-there swimsuits tanned their lithe bodies beneath the last rays of the sun.

Issy was by far the most uniquely dressed, she thought euphemistically, gazing beyond the pool to the azure sea, fringed with coconut trees. Some, no doubt, would argue she was, in fact, the worst-dressed person at the resort, but then she’d never cared for fashion.

She pushed up the sleeves of the yellow shaggy pile of her jumper as two women sauntered past, tanned from crown chakra to pink toenails, their double d-cups jiggling like caramel panacottas.

Surrounded by an ocean of virtual nakedness Issy felt prudish dressed head-to-toenails in winter discomfort. Certainly less chic than the five-year-old girl meandering past, resplendent in streaming caftan and matching overly bejeweled sandals, snapping the sunset with her iPhone.

‘Yes. First time anywhere overseas, actually,’ she ran her fingers over the roll of her turtleneck, wishing she’d thought to wear a tee-shirt so she could peel the jumper off.

As always she’d left things too late. She’d been in a mad panic to get to the plane and hadn’t even thought to pack spare clothes to change into once she’d arrived at Nadi airport.

Taking refuge beneath a palm tree Issy momentarily relaxed as a choir of Fijian men and women dressed in flowing white gowns began to sing in the open area just beyond the pool. Their voices soared through the humid air. Then suddenly realizing they were singing Christmas carols tension knotted her shoulders.


When she’d offered to help her business partner Nancy, and take this last minute client, she’d thought she could escape the festive season, dripping with tinsel and baubles, and the promise of happiness.

Her fingers tightened around the note the receptionist had passed her when she’d checked in. At least work meant she wouldn’t have to spend the holiday season at her mother’s with HIM—the traitorous, lying, three-timing control-freak of a fiancé. Make that ex-fiancé, she corrected. She had dumped him immediately, but that didn’t stop her heart from taking a hit.

Issy stared into the distance her attention diverted by a huge Christmas tree blazing with a rainbow of colored lights. She closed her eyes and sighed. Why couldn’t she find a promise-keeper?

Married by Christmas? Nope. Once again the bus of happily-ever-after failed to pull up at her stop, but to find out on Facebook that James was cheating on her weeks before their wedding? No one deserved that humiliation.

Even if her mother still thought James was the best thing since sliced toast, at least Issy had the balls to shut down his lies, the courage to confront the truth, the strength to face life on her own again. She swallowed hard as the sharp edge of betrayal ran a ragged line through her chest. She’d had a lucky escape.

The porter smiled stiffly as though sensing her discomfort. ‘Holiday?’

Issy looked longingly at people relaxing by the pool, her gaze hovering over a loved-up couple entwined on a sun-lounger. She felt a tug of disappointment. Would she ever trust enough to fall in love again? She crushed the note from her client in her hands, pressing her lips together as she turned away. ‘Business.’

All the men in her life, even her father, had let her down terribly. Work was a most welcome distraction. She didn’t need a man in her life, she reminded herself. Not anymore.

A riot of shouts from the beach pulled her attention toward a group of men jabbing at something writhing on the sand at the edge of the lagoon. Whether it was an instinctive sense of brutality etched in the men’s postures or the impact of the powerful figure brushing past her, she didn’t know, but every whisper of her body hair stood erect.

Issy watched mesmerized, adrenaline lapping her body as a 6 foot 3 Adonis with olive toned six-pack abs and a body that could easily grace a billboard strode toward the men on the beach, clad only in tiny trunks.

He looked strangely familiar in an unfamiliar sort of way, like a celebrity in a magazine, the same handsomeness, and aloof assurance, although she knew she’d never met him before. He looked like a movie star, only tougher? Certainly not a man anyone would forget.

His muscles rippled gold fire under the heat of the fading tropical sun as, with powerful, lithe steps like a panther about to lunge, the titan advanced upon the men on the beach. Fear shadowed their faces as they turned to each other, eyes widening, aware this was no normal man approaching but a warrior, a leader of men, a man not to be defied.

Allora! Stop!’ His rich honey-toned voice, edged with a deep sultry Italian accent, sent shivers coursing through her body.

Tearing her eyes away from this perfect specimen of a man Issy perched on her toes, squinting under the bright sun to see what the titan was so vigorously trying to protect.

‘Sea snake. Very poisonous,’ the porter said.


The warning flashed red in her mind and jackknifed through the air. Was it the snake she was afraid of or the rush of molten emotion the stranger incited?

‘Come and see,’ the porter beckoned.

She hesitated, torn between fear and fascination. Her pulse hammered, pummelled by the unexpected handsomeness of the man and stricken with curiosity. What sort of person would go to a snake’s rescue?

For the first time in forever she felt excited, alive, her body on edge, ablaze. Why, when she was officially off men, and as she walked toward him did every whisper of hair on her body stand alert?

She frowned, trying to remember any man ever having inflamed such a reaction, as his muscular arms took the sticks from the assailants. Arms that could crush an opponent or protect a woman against his powerful lean body.

‘We’re only trying to protect the resort guests from danger,’ the men shouted.

Che cavolo! Can you not see the baby snake?’ he jabbed his finger towards the rocks. ‘Would you deprive it of its mother?’ His eyes were a lethal shade of gunpowder blue, his gaze unyielding, freezing the men in a chilly silence. ‘She will not strike unless provoked.’

Issy’s breath caught in ragged gasps as she glanced at the tiny snake lingering in the distant shadows. Was this guy for real? Someone like her, who cared nothing for the senseless killing of animals.

‘We didn’t see it. We didn’t think,’ they said, stepping back. ‘Sorry, Sir.’

Issy smiled, her body flooding with something that felt uncomfortably like admiration.  She dragged her eyes from him and focused on the snake lying washed ashore, exposed in its vulnerability.

As dangerous as the snake was alleged to be the artist in her was captivated by the beauty of its iridescent pearl and obsidian stripes. But she was wary too of its potent power. Was the snake feigning death or was it spellbound, against its will, offering herself to the giant of a man before her?

Issy’s heart seemed to freeze then pounded like the sea crashing on the distant reef. She could relate to feeling out of her depth. She stole a glance at the knight without armor standing in far too skimpy trunks as with soft, deft movements that belied his powerful physique, he gently nudged the snake toward the sea.

Issy kept her gaze firmly on the snake as it uncoiled slowly, writhing in the wet sand as Issy drew closer to its rescuer. She stood a body’s length away from him, agonizingly aware of the rich luster of his full head of blue-black wavy hair, his impeccably shaven jaw, and the intoxicating aroma of his cologne coiling through the balmy air. Earthy, sensual, exhilarating.

What was up with that, she wondered bamboozled by the commotion clanging through her mind. Her eyes recklessly savored every contoured edge of the Adonis’s body as he stood at the water’s edge watching the snake slither to freedom. She traced his broad, bronzed, well-oiled chest, before sliding down the tantalizingly playful coils of soft dark hair dividing his sculptured six pack and marching a confident line from his navel, before vanishing below the rim of his tiny ‘spray on’ trunks.

Suddenly the Adonis turned toward her and she was immediately captured in the web of his intense blue eyes.

Issy looked away quickly. Too quickly.


Her face flamed carmine red as she studied her feet, wishing the escaping waves of rose pink hair that fell over her face as she did so would hide her indefinitely. After a brief moment she glanced up, hoping he had not read her mind when she’d gawked at him. The smirk on his face and the intensity of his gaze left her in no doubt he’d registered her attraction.

‘Thank you for saving the snake Mr. Johnstone,’ said the porter, offering him a towel as he went to his side.

‘Johnstone?’ her voice eked out. Her eyes ping-ponged between the stranger and the porter. Thrusting her hand in her pocket, she unfurled the note the receptionist had given her. Issy’s stomach dived a nervous somersault that would have done an Olympic swimmer proud as she reread the message, studying the words forged in firm, confident handwriting—no sign of weakness anywhere. “Meet me at the pool. (Signed) Mr. Johnstone.”

Oh, God. Mortification coiled through her body. ‘You can’t be that Mr. Johnstone.’

He stared at her as if she was insane.

She bit her lip, holding back any attempt at an explanation for her earlier behavior that she knew would only dig a deeper hole. ‘There must be some mistake.’


Did you enjoy this excerpt?


Married By Christmas

Book One in the Passion Down Under series—available now from Amazon here:


Praise for Married by Christmas

“A good read that takes you away to a tropical island to experience the steamy heat of two people determined to stay single in case they get hurt again. Max, a sexy, jaded Italian multi-billionaire meets up with Issy, a playful children’s art therapist who has recently found out her fiancé was having an affair. Although I was initially skeptical as I usually go for historical romances, I’m glad I trusted my friend’s recommendation because this book was delightfully compelling. The emotional vulnerabilities and character quirks combined with the sexual tension kept the pages turning. A frisky novel to curl up on the couch with or take away on your next trip.”

~ Pauline Roberts

“This was a fun read I really enjoyed. It’s perfect for a lazy weekend. This is the first book I have read by this author but it won’t be last. I can’t wait to be more.”

~ Poppy

“Beautifully written. The author’s vivid and descriptive writing style pulled me into a world I never wanted to leave. I loved the connection of art between two very different people and the healing it brought them both. A Very beautiful story!”

~ Hugh Harrison

“I joined Max to make the slow journey from betrayed broken-hearted individuals to the trusting and loving couple they become. Molly Mathew’s writing transports you to places she is describing where you can kick back and relax for a while as this endearing story unfolds. Her characters soon become visible through her careful picture-building. Readers will like the Kiwi vernacular Issy invoices every now and then, and I think readers will enjoy getting to know the strong characters and the beautiful islands we’re visiting. The author also tucks in some great life advice for everyone telling in the telling of this charming story. I hope you enjoy this book, too. I did.”

~ Alfie Rues

“I loved, loved, loved this book. An instantly gripping, compelling and fun read. Escapism at its best. I couldn’t put the book down and read it in one night. With exotic backdrops like Italy and Fiji and passionate characters, it made the perfect holiday read. Can kindness thaw a cold-heart? That’s the question Mollie Mathews poses in her book about second chances and learning to love again.

Issy is a funny, compassionate art therapist who wants to escape Christmas after her jerk of a fiancé cheated on her. Even though she only works with troubled children she agrees to take on a last minute client for her friend and business partner. What she doesn’t know is her client is hunky fashion house CEO Massimilliano Balforni. Sparks fly and it’s an attraction Max vows to deny. He doesn’t want Issy and her colored pencils from bringing the wounds of his childhood to the light.

Mollie Mathews skillfully creates a gripping dynamic between Issy and Max that sensually blends their animosity with undeniable attraction making the tension soar. I definitely recommend this book.”

~ Lauri


The idea for this story was sparked when I read about a very successful Italian fashion-tycoon who said, ‘My biggest regret is that I gave my life to my job.’ It struck me as very, very sad.

I wondered why he had chosen to live his life this way. Despite all his wealth, all his mansions around the world, and all the ‘fans’ who adored him for the identity he had carefully cultivated, he loved no one and no one loved him back for who he truly was.

Although he never said it outright, he’d thrown himself into his work following the death of his life partner. His work was pure escapism—protecting him from feeling the pain of loss again.

He’d originally trained as a medic but after experiencing the horrors of war, he sought refuge in a fantasy world.

As a child, he’d loved the glitz and glamor Hollywood offered. After a brief stint in the war where he witnessed the deaths of friends, he found an escape from the harshness of reality returning to the fantasy of Hollywood

I wondered what sort of woman would be able to touch this frozen man at the deepest level. Everything in his life was controlled measured, predictably precise. I wondered what if the darkness of the past, his unhealed wounds began to impact his work, stifling his creativity and threatening to destroy everything he had fought so hard to achieve.

I wondered what if, as part of his recovery, he was forced to spend time with a woman so opposite in every way to the order he imposed in his life. And what if this woman was a children’s art therapist. A woman unimpressed by the fame and fortune he’d amassed, but who believed strongly in the power of play, fun, and spontaneity—things he considered reckless

What if this woman had the power to transform his life, and he hers—but they were both afraid. Hearts have been broken, love lost, trust betrayed. What if this woman had her own wounds? Don’t we all?

What would it take to make all the masks fall? To be vulnerable? To risk it all? What would it take, in spite of the fear, to believe you deserve, you want, you need to give love a second chance?

You’ll discover the answers in Married by Christmas. I hope you love this story as much as I loved writing it.

p.s. I took the photo below during a Christmas trip to the Warwick Resort in Fiji. You can see how the location inspired my writing. I was also inspired while staying in a beautiful cottage that is for couples only.  The house was called Lomani on an exotic island called Taveuni just off Fiji’s mainland. Lomani” is the Fijian word for love. I fell in love with this idyllic slice of paradise and can’t wait to return someday.


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Can You Judge a Book by its Cover?

Can You Judge a Book by its Cover?

Check out the stunning selection in this free giveaway….I’m so thrilled my book Flight of Passion is amongst the nominees! The cover was designed by the mega-talented Hang Le.

Grab a FREE copy from a range of beautiful books—navigate to here 

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What I’m working on now…

I’ve been finishing off a few non-fiction, self-empowerment projects in the last few months and very much looking forward to picking up my romance-writing pen again. I’ve set myself an aspirational goal to release the very first love story I ever attempted, Love in Venice.

I started this over ten years ago and was stalled in my tracks by some stinging feedback. As always, I’m still beset by self-doubt. But I’m determined to push through it and write for the pure joy of telling my story—just for fun. If I love it, then I hope you will too. And if you don’t, perhaps you’ll like my next book. Thinking like this helps cure the inner critic.

Last night I re-read some of the notes in my passion journal—a journal I write every year to provide focus and encouragement throughout the year—and I came across the following comment from feedback I had collated:

“Keep up your love stories Mollie, they are heart-warming and beautiful with passion for the still young at heart like me.” ~ Estella van Rhyn

I am so thankful for the comments and help so many of you have given throughout the year. You have generously given up your precious time to thoroughly proof-read my books. Even though I have had them edited by professionals somehow the pesky errors slip through and I know this ruins the story. So thank you!

And thank you to those readers who have been fabulous BETA and ARC readers—I am improving because of you.

If you are curious about my passion journalling process you may enjoy my new non-fiction book, The Passion-Driven Business Planning Journal: The Effortless Path to Manifesting Your Business and Career Goals. Only $2.99 and full of inspiration and practical tips for anyone wanting to live and work with passion.

The strategies apply not just to career but also life. I manifested my partner using a passion journal. Find out how in my new non-fiction book! Or you may enjoy my new online course, . I know you’ll love the video tutorials where I share stories and examples. 

As many of you know—I am one author with two names and genres Mollie Mathews for romantic fiction and Cassandra Gaisford for non-fiction self-empowerment), but all my works are dedicated to creating more love in the world.

Cover Reveal—Which Do You Prefer?

Version One: With Castle


Version Two: With Lavender




Would you enjoy being a BETA reader for Love In Venice?

Simply email me at and I’ll add you to my Dream Team. I anticipate having a nearly finished draft completed in the next couple of weeks.

DId you enjoy Twist of Fate?

Many of you offered to be ARC readers for my super short story, Twist of Fate. Sadly, only two reviews have been posted. If you forgot, would it be possible to post your review in the next few days?

Here’s a little bit about the story:

What if a twist of fate could change your life?

Still reeling following his unexpected divorce, billionaire Tech guru Jonathan James has returned from London to New Zealand feeling disillusioned and low in spirits. The last thing he needs when he flies home is complications.

When a baggage mix up leaves him with nothing but a suitcase full of stilettos, lush lashes, and Dolly Parton-like wigs, he goes in search of the owner. He quickly discovers that all is not as it seems as his life takes off in a hilarious and unexpected direction.

As Margaret wrote to me, in her early review, ‘”Twist of Fate” is a short story full of quirky humor and the promise of romance.”

Set in Wellington, New Zealand—the coolest little capital in the world (my old hometown).

If you love clean romance short stories with a twist of humor, you’ll enjoy “Twist of Fate”.

Available for instant download from Amazon here:

Twist of Fate - a well-written short story Screen Shot 2017-11-01 at 8.04.09 AMTwist of Fate Margaret Review Screen Shot 2017-10-31 at 5.17.42 PM

Featured reader of the month: Rita Kunselman

From the very beginning of my romance writing career, Rita has been an outstanding supporter. I truly am indebted to you Rita for all your constructive criticism and cheerleading.

You’ve been firm when you needed to be regarding where improvements need to be made and generous with kind words when you feel they are warranted.

Comments like the below sustain me:

Mollie –
It’s a beautiful book. You should be very proud of being able to write it. I read a lot of books, lately it’s been about one a day, and, you have a different way of writing. When you read it you can feel the passion. You put your all into it. You’re not writing to get done but, to let us know the beautiful story you have in you.

Rita K

I’m still savoring my holiday in Bali with my mother, affectionally known as “Little Joy.” Mom’s name is Joy and she is just over 5ft tall. But she is overflowing with a large love of life—despite the grief she still feels after losing her beloved Ted to cancer several years ago.

I can’t wait to finish the short story I wrote while in Bali—about a man who opens his heart to love again after the tragic loss of his wife on their honeymoon. So many books to write—so little time.

Chat soon!

Much love


P.S.  Please don’t forget to vote in the Can You Judge a Book by its Cover promo . While you’re there pick up some wonderful books to read this holiday season.

Posted in Flight of Passion, New romance novel, short story, Twist of Fate, Writer's Life | Tagged , , | Leave a comment