Manic Readers

Mimi Barbour


     Mimi Barbour lives on the beautiful west coast on Vancouver Island and writes her paranormal romances with tongue in cheek and a mad glint in her eye. Asked why she prefers paranormal, she answers - chuckling.

     “Because it’s fun! Imagination can be a lot more interesting than what happens in real life to so-called normal people. I love my characters, and my goal is to make the readers love them also. To care about what happens to them while the story unfolds. If I can steal my booklover’s attention away from their every-day grind, absorb them into a fantasy love story, and make them care about the ending, then I’ve done my job.” 

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Current Releases

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His Devious Angel
Abbie Taylor has a thousand things to do before the big day, help the vicar with his needy families, organize the Christmas nativity, and spare time for a distraught baby at the orphanage who only settles when she’s near. Falling into a coma...
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Together for Christmas
Naïve and love-starved, Annie will soon to be celebrating her big 3-0. Something needs to be done! Celi, her ‘down-to-earth’ guardian angel appears to help kick-start Annie’s big change—her looks, her job, her whole li...
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My Cheeky Angel
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The Vicarage Bench Series Traveling forward in time, Dani Howard’s spirit becomes magically united with that of reporter Troy Brennan. He’s everything a girl could want in a man, and she falls deeply in love. Though she must return...
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Together Again
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The Vicarge Bench--Out now from The Wild Rose Press Includes all three stories in one print book. Imagine having to share your body with an invading time traveller. Dr. Tobias Andrews, guardian of the magic, assists each trapped spirit&mda...
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The Vicarage Bench
Back Cover          A casino owner from Vegas, Rhett Parks, was relaxing on a bench in a small English town.  To his dismay, a young woman interrupted his sanctuary. A minute later, his body was out c...
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He's Her
Blurb for #We’re One”   Crystal was a celebrated Vegas star with a strong affinity to the animal world—except for the human male animal, that is.  When she uses her trusty baseball bat to change the odds for eas...
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We're One
A spoilt model, Jenna McBride, sits on a bench in 2007, pricks her finger on a rose bush and gets transported back to 1963 England to inhabit the body of chubby Lucy McGillicuddy. As her spiritual roommate, Jenna’s cynicism forces Lucy to ad...
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She's Me

A Peek Into the Life of Mimi Barbour

#4 in Vicarage Bench Series

#4 in Vicarage Bench Series
#3 in Vicarage Bench Seeries

#3 in Vicarage Bench Seeries
#2 in Vicarage Bench Series

#2 in Vicarage Bench Series
#1 in Vicarage Bench Series

#1 in Vicarage Bench Series

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Excerpt from new release - "Together Again"



So this is what the inside of the pub looks like. I’ve wondered.”

“Why would you care?”

“Being it’s a sanctified adult area, all kids want to know what goes on here. Some of my mates got phoney cards and have tried to get in, but they were I.D.ed and thrown out.”

“And so they should be. It’s no place for youngsters.”

“I’m a youngster. I’m here.”

“Yeah! But you’re with me, and if there’s any nonsense going on you shouldn’t see, I’ll close my eyes.”

Erupting giggles tickled him. He lowered his head and stared at the beer-foamed glass in his hand so no one could see the silly grin fighting to appear on his face.

Dani, the bane of his existence, made him laugh more than anyone else he’d ever known. And she was only sixteen years old.

“I’m not a child, you know. And I’m almost seventeen.”

“So tell me, Miss Methuselah, how did you get inside me? Are you ever going to explain? I’m thinking to take out a long-term lease if you’re planning to homestead.”

She teased right back.” You’ll have to co-sign for me, ‘cause I’m underage.”

“Whoa! I’ve never met anyone who can play the age game better than you. You’re an adult when it suits you, but reverting back to childhood when you feel the need doesn’t bother you at all.” He loved hearing her cheeky laughter, but not nearly as much as he liked the warmth flooding over his internal self. Exuberance filled him, and he had to admit to getting hooked on the high.

“You are so easy, Troy. I’m gonna hate to leave you. But I guess I’ll have to, since tomorrow’s Saturday, and that’s the day we’ll be able to undo the switch. Right. Here goes—and don’t interrupt, no matter how silly it seems. The fact is – well, it really is the rose bush.”

“You’re still trying to feed me that baloney. The rose bush! I thought we settled that subject. Next you’ll be saying it’s magical.”

“It is.” Her voicestrongly emphasised the last word.

He filtered through his senses systematically. And was forced to accept one thing. She was telling the truth. A magic rose bush! “Holy cow!”

“According to my uncle’s notes, if I understood them correctly, and I think I did, I read them twice and—”


“Right! He’ll have my body near his rose bush—the one I pricked my finger on, at precisely twelve noon each Saturday until the changeover occurs to get me back there. He’ll prick my finger in hopes that you will also prick yours at the same time. He knows I’m aware of the magic and how it works, because he’ll know I read all his notes about a similar case he investigated last year. I accidentally knocked them off his table, the notes that is, and probably didn’t get them back in their correct order. It’s what started this whole thing.”

“And you’re sure it’ll happen?”

“No. But it’s what I gathered from going through his papers, and it worked for two other women who had the same experience.”

“Great! Tomorrow! We’ll be there early.”



He had hurt her feelings.

     She shut herself off, hiding away so he couldn’t feel the devastating ache that clutched at her and made her gasp. Tears, a physical reaction to release overwhelming pain, weren’t available to her. Emotions too advanced for a young girl tore away rose-coloured glasses, wounding, maturing. Her almost seventeen-year-old psyche had started connecting to him in a way that confused her. Every moment she’d shared his life, little bits of her soul had shifted to him until there wasn’t much left he didn’t own. 





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