Celticlady's Reviews

Before Dorothy by Hazel Gaynor Book Spotlight! Will be published on June 17th, 2025.

2025-06-17T05:00:00.004-05:00

Long before Dorothy visits Oz, her aunt, Emily Gale, sets off on her own unforgettable adventure...

This summer, internationally bestselling author Hazel

Gaynor delivers a reimagining of characters from the

beloved The Wizard of Oz in BEFORE DOROTHY

(Berkley Trade Original; on sale June 17, 2025)

Bursting with courage and heart, BEFORE DOROTHY tells the story of Emily Gale, the woman who raised a beloved heroine, and ponders the question: what is the true meaning of home?

Chicago, 1924: Emily and her new husband, Henry, yearn to leave the bustle of Chicago for the promise of their own American dream among the harsh beauty of the prairie. But leaving the city means leaving Emily’s beloved sister, Annie, who was once closer to her than anyone in the world.

Kansas, 1932: Emily and Henry have established their new home among the warmth of the farming community in Kansas. Aligned to the fickle fortunes of nature, their lives hold a precarious and hopeful purpose, until tragedy strikes and their orphaned niece, Dorothy, lands on their doorstep.

The wide-eyed child isn’t the only thing to disrupt Emily’s world. Drought and devastating dust storms threaten to destroy everything, and her much-loved home becomes a place of uncertainty and danger. When the past catches up with the present and old secrets are exposed, Emily fears she will lose the most cherished thing of all: Dorothy.

Hazel Gaynor is an award-winning New York Times and internationally bestselling author of historical novels which explore the defining events of the 20th century. A recipient of the 2015 RNA Historical Novel award and the 2024 Audie award for Best Fiction Narrator, she was also shortlisted for the 2019 HWA Gold Crown, and the Irish Book Awards in 2017, 2020 and 2023.

Hazel’s co-written historical novels with Heather Webb have all been published to critical acclaim, winning or being shortlisted for several international awards.

She is a regular speaker at literary festivals, co-founder of The Inspiration Project, and programmed and hosted a series of Historia Live events in association with Dublin UNESCO City of Literature in 2024. Her work is translated into 20 languages and published in twenty-seven territories to date. Her latest novel, Before Dorothy, the imagine life story of Dorothy’s Aunt Em from The Wizard of Oz, will be published in June 2025.

Hazel lives in Ireland with her family.

https://hazelgaynor.com/

https://www.goodreads.com/hazelgaynor

Vacations Can Be Murder Dawn M Barclay April 28 - May 23, 2025 Virtual Book Tour!

2025-05-18T05:30:00.000-05:00

Vacations Can Be Murder

As Close as You Can Get to True Crime While Still Breathing!

For the true crime lover—finally, a travel guide from an award-winning travel journalist and suspense author that gives you the down-and-dirty on exactly where the major crimes occurred, and where the bodies are buried. For aficionados of paranormal, prison, and tombstone travel, there’s a goldmine of tourism suggestions for you here as well.

Along with summaries of the major crimes committed in New England, you’ll discover where to find the best crime and ghost tours; which hotels and restaurants are former jails, courthouses, or harbor paranormal activity; where infamous criminals are/were jailed, and which venues and attractions might feed your fancy for murder and justice.

Reading lists in each chapter will guide you to books expounding on the crimes discussed.. Best of all, suggested itineraries bring all the pieces together to help you traverse New England’s criminal landscape in an organized and entertaining way. Up for a true crime road trip? Let Vacations Can Be Murder be your ultimate travel guide.

Praise for Vacations Can Be Murder:

"The perfect reference book for the U. S. crime traveler. Barclay rounds up a collection of known and obscure crimes, arranged by geographic area, that features museums, cemeteries, hotels, prisons, and private properties.

She even offers itineraries, murder tours, a location-specific list of true-crime books, victim resources, and some ghost stories. This travel guide is a gem. Be packed and ready before you start reading because you’ll want to go explore."
~ Katherine Ramsland, author of Darkest Waters, The Nutcracker Investigations, and How to Catch a Killer

Vacations Can Be Murder Trailer:

Book Details:

Genre: True Crime, Travel
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: March 25, 2025
Number of Pages: 340
Series: Vacations Can Be Murder, Book 1
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt from Vacations Can Be Murder: A True Crime Lover’s Travel Guide to New England:

This is from the Crime Summaries section of the Connecticut chapter. The actual addresses of these crimes are all included in the Itineraries section of the chapter.

Hartford may be considered one of Connecticut’s most dangerous cities, but its suburbs have seen their fair share of crime over the years.

The Hartford Witch Trials occurred between 1647-1663. In all of Connecticut, there were 43 trials and 16 executions, many in Hartford and three in Wethersfield. On May 26, 1647, Alice (Alse) Young of Windsor was the first to be executed. Servant girl Mary Johnson was the first to confess to witchcraft in Connecticut but was likely coerced by extensive torture. She was executed somewhere between 1648-1650 (reports vary).

In 1839, The Amistad criminal and civil cases were tried at Old Statehouse in Hartford. The case revolved around a mutiny by, and subsequent charging of, 53 Mende African men, women, and children who had been captured and were being transported between Sierra Leone and Havana, Cuba aboard the ship to serve as slaves. The story was the subject of the Steven Spielberg film, Amistad. Several other Connecticut locations connected to the trial can be found at https://www.nps.gov/subjects/travelamistad/visit.htm.

Joseph “Mad Dog” Taborsky was a murderer sentenced to death after a string of brutal robberies and murders in Hartford and West Hartford in the 1950s. He was sentenced twice to be executed for two different crimes, but the first conviction was overturned due to the mental competency of a witness, his brother Albert, testifying against him. (Albert was later declared insane.) In December 1956, a little over a year after his release from prison, Taborsky launched a 14-month murder spree that killed gas station attendant Edward Kurpewski and customer Daniel Janowski, package store owner Samuel Cohn, shoe store customers Bernard and Ruth Speyer, and pharmacy owner John M. “Jack” Rosenthal. The second conviction stuck, and he died in the electric chair in 1960, the last execution in Connecticut until that of Michael Bruce Ross in 2005.

In 2004, Matthew Steven Johnson was convicted of the 2000 and 2001 slayings of three female sex workers he murdered—Rosali Jimenez (33), Aida Quinones (33), and Alesia Ford (37)—who were all found dead in the Asylum Hill neighborhood of Hartford. Each of the women had drugs in their system and were found with their bodies stomped upon, strewn with Johnson’s semen, and with their pants pulled down around one leg. Johnson was found guilty and sentenced to three consecutive 60-year sentences at the Cheshire Correctional Institution.

Lazale Ashby became one of the youngest prisoners on Connecticut’s death row for kidnapping, raping, burglarizing, and murdering his neighbor Elizabeth Garcia in 2002, when he was just 18. He was suspected of another Hartford rape, as well.

Ashby has actually been tried and sentenced three times for Garcia’s murder, the final time in 2023, when he confessed to the crime. Now that Connecticut has abolished the death penalty, he’s been sentenced to 46.5 years in prison. In addition, he was convicted and received a 25-year sentence for the 2003 fatal shooting of 22-year-old Nahshon Cohen of Manchester, whose body was found on a street in the city’s North End.

Speaking of Manchester, in August of 2010, the city became the location of a mass shooting at a beer distribution company, Hartford Distributors. Disgruntled former employee Omar Thorton, forced to resign after video evidence revealed he’d been stealing and reselling the company’s beer, fatally shot eight coworkers and injured two others. He then committed suicide on site. Those who knew him cited racism as the reason for his upset, but these allegations were disputed by the firm and not substantiated by the investigation that followed.

William Devin Howell’s rape and murder spree, which started on New Year’s Day in 2003, took place in Seymour, West Hartford, and Wethersfield, as well as New Britain. Triggered by a fight with his girlfriend, Howell succumbed to years-long rape fantasies, Referring to himself as the “Sick Ripper,” he would lure female drug addicts, unlikely to be missed, into his “murder mobile.” There, he would rape them, often videotaping bizarre sex acts, before murdering them and disposing of the bodies in a seldom frequented area behind a strip mall in New Britain which he called his “garden.” He was arrested in North Carolina and plea-bargained his way into a fifteen-year sentence for the manslaughter of Mary Jane Menard. However, new evidence that surfaced while he was already in jail earned him six consecutive life sentences (360 years in prison) to be spent at the Cheshire Correctional Institution.

In 1986 at the Jamaican Progressive League, a club in Hartford’s North End, Bonnie Foreshaw stopped to get a beer and ended up committing a murder that bought her the longest jail sentence ever handed down to a woman in the state. Having endured a lifetime of sexual and spousal abuse, when Hector Freeman offered to buy her a drink and wouldn’t let up when she turned him down, the encounter triggered her. She drew her handgun to fire a warning shot, but Freeman protected himself by using a pregnant woman, Joyce Amos, as a human shield. Foreshaw’s bullet killed her accidently.

Foreshaw spent the majority of her jail time at the York Correctional Institution in Niantic where author Wally Lamb taught a writing class for prisoners. Lamb took up her cause, believing she’d been over-sentenced, and thanks to his help, Foreshaw was granted clemency after serving just 27 years of a 49-year sentence. Once released, she changed her name to Bonnie Jean Cook and helped other ex-convicts adjust to life on the outside until her death in 2022.

All of these murders pale in comparison to the crimes of Amy Archer-Gilligan. While she was charged with five deaths (though only tried for one), she may have killed as many as one hundred. Archer-Gilligan ran the Archer Home for Elderly People and Chronic Invalids in the Hartford suburb of Windsor, where countless older residents were bilked out of money and then poisoned by arsenic, including the murderer’s own husbands. Other locations tied to Archer-Gilligan include Newington, where she and her first husband James Archer lived with John Seymour until he died, and then they transformed the home into Sister Amy’s Nursing Home for the Elderly. In 1917, she was convicted of the murder of Franklin Andrew and sentenced to death by hanging, but she appealed. During a second trial in 1919, she pleaded insanity and was convicted of second-degree murder, earning her a life sentence. In 1924, she was transferred to the Connecticut General Hospital for the Insane in Middletown, where she remained until her death in 1962. The play Arsenic and Old Lace is loosely based on her story.

Also in Hartford, the Circus Fire that killed 168 persons and injured 412-700 others through trampling and asphyxiation occurred on July 6, 1944 (“The Day the Clowns Cried”) and is considered one of the country’s worst fire disasters. The Big Top Tent was coated in paraffin plus gasoline or kerosene for waterproofing; therefore, it was highly flammable. On top of that, some of the exits were blocked by animal chutes. Arson was suspected; others blamed a carelessly tossed lit cigarette. A mentally ill man named Robert Dale Segee, 21, of Circleville, OH, confessed to setting the fire, as well as up to 30 other blazes in Maine, New Hampshire, and Ohio. He later recanted his confession and was never tried in Connecticut. However, Segee was indicted and convicted in Ohio on two charges of arson and served eight out of a four-to-forty-year jail sentence. He died in 1997.

Finally, on May 18, 1988, Billy “Hot Dog” Grant, a bookie who was in charge of Connecticut safe houses for New York’s five families, was reportedly murdered in the parking lot of the Westfarms Mall in Farmington. Grant, who had owned Augie and Ray’s Hot Dog and Hamburger shop in East Hartford, and later the South End Seaport restaurant on Franklin Avenue, was suspected of having given up details of the hiding spot of the brother of a mafia boss. He is supposedly buried underneath a Farmington residence.

***

Dawn M. Barclay is a veteran travel trade reporter and an award-winning author who writes nonfiction under her own name and fiction as D.M. Barr.

Her first nonfiction book, Traveling Different: Vacation Strategies for Parents of the Anxious, the Inflexible, and the Neurodiverse (Rowman & Littlefield, 2022) received a starred review from Library Journal, and won the 2023 Lowell Thomas Gold Award from the Society of American Travel Writers Foundation, Honorable Mention from the American Society of Journalists and Authors (Books that Make a Difference), and first prize in the Maxy Awards.

When not writing, she edits for various authors and publishers, creates book trailers, ghostwrites (nonfiction only!), plays competitive trivia, rescues senior shelter dogs, travel, reads, and apparently, drives her family nuts...but they won't admit it, of course, since she knows a lot about murder.

Catch Up With Dawn M Barclay:

www.VacationsCanBeMurder.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
Instagram - @authordmbarr
Facebook - @TrueCrimeTravelGuides

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

Enter Now for Your Chance to Win!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Dawn M Barclay. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

Can't see the giveaway? Click Here!

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

The Matchmaker’s Mare by Hywela Lyn Blog Tour!

2025-05-11T05:00:00.006-05:00

The Matchmaker’s Mare

When Megan Johnson inherits an old cottage in the Welsh countryside, she seizes the opportunity to cut ties with her past life, after a broken romance.

Her nearest neighbour, a horse trainer, is also something of an enigma. Single dad Glyn Phillips does his best to balance his love of horses and hard work, with his devotion to his son. When he meets his new neighbour, he knows he should resist any attraction. A feisty pony mare which mysteriously appears on his land adds to his problems, but another, larger problem lies ahead.

Two matchmaking spirits find their carefully laid plans may not go as smoothly as they hope

PurchaseLinks

Amazon UK

Amazon US

That's it.

Award-winning author Hywela Lyn spent most of her life in Wales, whose beautiful landscapes and wealth of myths and legends inspired her to write. A horse and dog lover, she weaves romantic Science Fiction adventures and fantasy romances set in Wales, past and present. She loves dreaming up characters who overcome the odds and go on to find deep and enduring love.

However difficult the journey, in the end love will always win. She hopes her stories will truly take you ‘out of this world’.

Her penname, Hywela Lyn is a combination of her first two names. (She has always been known by her second name 'Lyn' and thought it was time her Welsh first name was used as well!) She is a member of The Romantic Novelists' Association, and her local writing group, Chiltern Writers.

Beloved Enemy, the third book in her Destiny Trilogy, was shortlisted in the Paranormal category of the prestigious Romantic Novelists Association RoNA awards and was a Runner up in the RONE Awards in 2017.

When not writing or reading, she can usually be found outdoors with horses or her little dog - or just eating chocolate!

Social Media Links

Website

Https://Hywelalyn.co.uk

Blog

Https://hywelalyn.blogspot.com

https://x.com/Hywela_L

Instagram

https://www.instagram.com/hywela.lyn/

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1422651.Hywela_Lyn

Giveaway to Win an e-copy of Matchmaker’s Mare plus assorted goodies (Open to UK Only)

Prize includes Matchmaker’s Mare download, with signed cover flat, Matchmaker’s Mare Miniature book cover key chain, Lavender bag, Chocolate heart in sparkle gift box, Set of four heart shaped drinks coasters.

*Terms and Conditions –UK entries welcome. Please enter using the Rafflecopter box below. The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then Rachel’s Random Resources reserves the right to select an alternative winner.

Open to all entrants aged 18 or over. Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information.

This will be passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for the fulfilment of the prize, after which time Rachel’s Random Resources will delete the data.

I am not responsible for dispatch or delivery of the prize.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Series by Elena Taylor April 28 - May 23, 2025 Virtual Book Tour!

2025-05-09T04:30:00.013-05:00

The Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Series

by Elena Taylor

April 28 - May 23, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

ALL WE BURIED

Interim sheriff Elizabeth "Bet" Rivers has always had one repeat nightmare: a shadowy figure throwing a suspicious object into her hometown lake in Collier, Washington. For the longest time, she chalked it up to an overactive imagination as a kid. Then the report arrives. In the woods of the Cascade mountain range, right in her jurisdiction, a body floats to the surface of Lake Collier. When the body is extricated and revealed, no one can identify Jane Doe. But someone must know the woman, so why aren't they coming forward?

Bet has been sitting as the interim sheriff of this tiny town in the ill-fitting shoes of her late father and predecessor. With the nightmare on her heels, Bet decided to build a life for herself in Los Angeles, but now it's time to confront the tragic history of Collier. The more she learns, the more Bet realizes she doesn't know the townspeople of Collier as well as she thought, and nothing can prepare her for what she is about to discover.

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: Crooked Lane
Publication Date: April 7, 2020
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Penguin Random House

A COLD, COLD WORLD

Now In Paperback!

The world felt pure. Nature made the location pristine again, hiding the scene from prying eyes. As if no one had died there at all.

In the months since Bet Rivers solved her first murder investigation and secured the sheriff’s seat in Collier, she’s remained determined to keep her town safe. With a massive snowstorm looming, it’s more important than ever that she stays vigilant.

When Bet gets a call that a family of tourists has stumbled across a teen injured in a snowmobile accident on a mountain ridge, she braves the storm to investigate. However, once she arrives at the scene of the accident it’s clear to Bet that the teen is not injured; he’s dead. And has been for some time . . .

Investigating a possible homicide is hard enough, but with the worst snowstorm the valley has seen in years threatening the safety of her town, not to mention the integrity of her crime scenes – as they seem to be mounting up as well – Bet has to move fast to uncover the complicated truth and prove that she’s worthy of keeping her father’s badge.

A Cold, Cold World is nominated for a Foreword INDIES Award, Best Mystery of 2024 (winner announced early June)

Book Details:

Genre: Police Procedural, Mystery
Published by: Severn House
Publication Date: August 6, 2024
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Severn House

Praise for ALL WE BURIED:

"Well-crafted . . . Taylor skillfully sets the scene, describing the distinctive local landscape [while] the introspective, conflicted Bet proves her mettle. Readers will look forward to her next outing."
~ Publishers Weekly

"This spooky and suspenseful story should be a must-read for fans of Lisa Unger, J. A. Jance, and Julia Keller."
~ Booklist

"Extremely hard to put down . . . Would recommend this to anyone who loves mystery thrillers."
~ San Francisco Book Review

"This book stands apart due to its smart, thoughtful protagonist and its richly layered setting in the remote Washington wilderness."
~ Midwest Book Review

"A thrilling start to a mystery series."
~ BookTrib

Praise for A COLD, COLD WORLD:

"Readers who appreciate the strong woman police chief in Linda Castillo’s Kate Burkholder books or the vivid landscapes of Craig Johnson’s Walt Longmire mysteries will appreciate Taylor’s riveting crime novel."
~ Lesa Holstine, Library Journal Starred Review

"Taylor perfectly captures the tension and determination of a small town sheriff facing down an isolating blizzard while racing against the clock to solve a murder and save a missing child. Sheriff Bet Rivers will be your new favorite character"
~ Lisa Gardner, #1 New York Times bestselling author

"A terrific ensemble cast in a total immersion setting! Fans of CJ Box and Julia Spencer-Fleming will adore this novel – it’s whipsmart, completely cinematic, and full of heart. Not to be missed!"
~ Hank Phillippi Ryan, USA Today bestselling author of One Wrong Word

"Sheriff Bet Rivers is back with a suspenseful and shrewdly plotted story of deadly small town secrets . . . Think Longmire meets Yellowstone"
~ James L’Etoile, award winning author of Dead Drop and Face of Greed

"Tense and divinely atmospheric, this is the perfect book to curl up with on a cold winter’s day"
~ J.L. Delozier, author of the multi-award-winning mystery, The Photo Thief

Author Bio

Elena Taylor spent several years working in theater as a playwright, director, designer, and educator before turning her storytelling skills to fiction. Her first series, the Eddie Shoes Mysteries, written under the name Elena Hartwell, introduced a quirky mother/daughter crime fighting duo.

With the Bet Rivers Mysteries, Elena returns to her dramatic roots and brings readers much more serious and atmospheric novels. The series introduces Collier, Washington, with its dark and mysterious lake, tough-as-nails residents, and newly appointed sheriff with her sidekick Schweitzer, an Anatolian Shepherd.

Elena is also a senior editor with Allegory Editing, a developmental editing house, where she works one-on-one with writers to shape and polish manuscripts, short stories, and plays. If you’d like to work with Elena, visit www.allegoryediting.com.

Her favorite place to be is at Paradise, the property she and her hubby own south of Spokane, Washington. They live with their horses, dogs, and cats. Elena holds a B.A. from the University of San Diego, a M.Ed. from the University of Washington, Tacoma, and a Ph.D. from the University of Georgia.

Catch Up With Elena Taylor:
www.ElenaTaylorAuthor.com
Elena's Blog: The Mystery of Writing
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @elenataylorauthor
Instagram - @elenataylorauthor
X - @Elena_TaylorAut
Facebook - @ElenaTaylorAuthor

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on the Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Series tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

JOIN IN ON THE GIVEAWAY:

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Elena Taylor. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

Can't see the giveaway? Click Here!

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

The Whisper Legacy by Tj O'Connor April 28 - May 23, 2025 Virtual Book Tour! #TheWhisperLegacy: #PoliticalThriller #ActionThriller #DetectiveMystery #ThrillerReads #ConspiracyThriller

2025-05-08T05:00:00.025-05:00

THE WHISPER LEGACY

by Tj O'Connor

April 28 - May 23, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Curran’s enemies thought he was dead.
They were wrong.
He thought his past was left on the Voula Beach Road.
He was wrong.
Now, that nightmare is drawing his enemies out.
The halls of power are being targeted—but by who?
Is the secret of the Voula Beach Road behind the chaos?
Curran knows the answer.
It’s all in The Whisper Legacy . . .

Marlowe “Lowe” Curran was once a freelance intelligence operative swashbuckling around the world—until Greece—until the Voula Beach Road. There, he lost everything and nearly his life.

Now, he’s a luckless, aging PI living on guilt and nightmares—barely paying his rent if not for Tommy Astor, a well-connected Washington powerbroker. Curran becomes a suspect in the murder of a philandering husband. He has an alibi—but that will get him arrested. Is committing crimes trying to resolve other crimes still a crime? For Curran it is, especially after he’s a suspect in two murders. Chasing the real killer, Curran is haunted by his demons from the Voula Beach Road, and something called Whisper. On his trail is an angry, vengeful US Deputy Marshal, gun-happy assassins, and a shadowy figure thwarting Curran’s every success. For each step forward, there’s another threat, another roadblock, another piece of evidence stacking up against him. Whisper is at the center of his nightmares—whatever Whisper is. Is Whisper why Charlie Cantrell had to die? Why bodies are dropping across Washington? Why the President’s shortlist for running mates is getting shorter?

Faced with old foes and aided by his last surviving Voula Beach friend, Curran must stay ahead of the assassins, rescue a kidnapped little girl, and find the deadly secrets hidden within The Whisper Legacy.

Praise for The Whisper Legacy:

"O’Connor’s The Whisper Legacy is an addictive joyride. Sometimes the loudest sound is a whisper when PI/Consultant Marlowe Curran finds himself in the crosshairs as political figures drop. The secrets are buried in The Whisper Legacy."
~ James L’Etoile, award winning author of River of Lies and the Detective Nathan Parker series

"Former intelligence operative/now down-and-out PI Marlowe “Lowe” Curran is a fascinating character who takes us on a wild ride through murder, kidnapping, high-ranking political scandal and long-buried secrets in The Whisper Legacy. Author Tj O’Connor does a masterful job of providing chills, thrills, excitement, suspense - and lots of fun too - along the way. Highly recommended!"
~ R.G. Belsky, author of the Clare Carlson series

"With The Whisper Legacy’s heart-pounding pace, well-written characters, plot twists, action, and intrigue, TJ O’Connor once again proves why he is a master of the political thriller."
~ Westley Smith, author of Some Kind of Truth and In The Pale Light

"Tj O'Connor has a rare gift of combining unique character development with a fast-moving story pace that not only transports you into his world, but also makes you want to stay. From elaborate settings, to plot twists you won't see coming, to larger-than-life but relatable characters, O'Connor's story continues to gain momentum, and I would recommend everyone come along for the ride."
~ Jay W. Foreman, award-winning author

"Tj O'Connor's spy thriller novel The Whisper Legacy is a tour de force that grabs readers by the scruff of the neck, impelling them forward, and it doesn't let go until the last word. Though Lowe Curran is a compelling and humorous protagonist, who endears himself to the reading audience with ease, there are truly spine-tingling moments of terror and horror that he must endure to stay alive and unravel the intricate web of intrigue at the highest echelons of power. The author shows real tradecraft not only in his writing style and character. "
~ Seth T. Thatcher, award winning author of the epic sci-fi novel Zendra of the Periphery

"Binge read in one sitting! THE WHISPER LEGACY has all the makings for sleep deprived night. "
~ TG Wolff, co-host Mysteries to Die For podcast

THE WHISPER LEGACY Trailer:

Book Details:

Genre: Political Thriller, Action Thriller, Detective Mystery
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: March 25, 2025
ISBN: 978-1685129149
Series: A Pappa Legacy Novel, Book 1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Bookshop | Goodreads | BookBub

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One

Marlowe “Lowe” Curran

Getting old is not for the meek. Especially when in your youth, you were an adventurer and risk-taker—a man of mystery and worldliness. You know, stuff that made your heart rumba and your pulse sizzle. Having to perform menial, boring deeds in your later years is tough. Especially when you sit around with good bourbon and reminisce about the old days. You tend to drink too much and pine for those glory days and lost adventure. So much that it eats at you. Not that I’ve ever done that, mind you. Just saying, you know, it happens to other people.

For instance, if anyone had told me twenty years ago that one day I’d be standing outside an old, two-story brick Rambler in Leesburg, Virginia, at ten in the evening, wearing old, raggedy pajamas, an ill-fitting robe, and carrying a dog leash—absent the dog—I would have been offended. Such a scenario might have suggested I’d lost my faculties too early in life. Perhaps I’d gone crazy or became homeless. Of course, I’d never seen a homeless person wearing pajamas and a robe at ten in the evening, crazy or not. Still, you get my concern.

I’m Curran. That’s Ker-in, not Kuur-an. It’s Irish—not that it matters. But pronunciation is important.

Don’t get the wrong idea about me. I don’t normally dress up in old pjs and walk neighborhoods with a dog leash. It just seemed like the thing to do tonight. I’m also not that damn old, either. At present, I’m pushing my early-mid-fifties and have a full head of dark, reddish hair, and almost always in need of a shave. It’s not that I’m trying to be suave and cool. I’m sorta lazy about shaving. I’ve been told I look like the dashing Sean Bean. No, not Mr. Bean—Sean Bean. Anyway, that’s me and I’ll explain more later. For now, my pjs were falling down and the ratty robe I had on wasn’t fitting all too well, either.

My feet were sore from my ambling down a block of crumbling sidewalk in the middle of this beautiful August night. Of course, August in Virginia was hot, humid, and, well, hot. My ensemble was cooler than jeans and sneakers, but it did not include slippers. Barefoot was not accidental. It’s for effect.

See, I was going for that crazy old dude persona.

Most concerning to me was my partner. Or lack thereof. Actually, he was my long-time friend and co-conspirator in many such episodes of my life. He’s missing. Stevie Keene should have been here an hour ago and running countersurveillance. He should have been watching my back and ensuring I wasn’t walking into a gunfight or a pair of handcuffs.

He wasn’t.

Stevie hadn’t responded to my cell calls. He also wasn’t in the van parked across the street from our target like he should be. That was bad. Real bad. I was going in blind.

“Stevie? Where in the flying monkeys are you?” I whispered to his voicemail again. “You’re late. I can’t wait any longer. If you get here while I’m inside, stay put and watch my escape route. And brother, you better have a good story—like being abducted by aliens.”

I peeked at the old Rambler’s front windows and dangled the dog leash. I called out as loud as I could, “Rufus? Come on boy. I’ve got cookies.”

No, I had no dog named Rufus. I also had no cookies. Try to keep up.

The house windows were blacked out—odd even for this part of town. I knew someone was inside. First, a thin sliver of light escaped through a corner of the window. Second, the electric meter around the side was whirling away like a NASA satellite station. Third, and perhaps most important, I’d seen the short, pudgy, receding hairline kid with his embarrassing attempt at a beard slip inside an hour or so ago. He looked like he’d glued stray hair here and there on his cheeks. His eyes were inset, or maybe his fat cheeks hid them.

Billy Piper reminded me of that dumpy loser who tried to smuggle dinosaur eggs off the island in Jurassic Park. He got eaten in the first thirty minutes of the movie. Served him right—poor defenseless dinosaurs.

“Rufus? I’ve got cookies.” I banged loudly on the door and rattled the doorknob. “Don’t hide on me, Rufus. Don’t be a bad dog.”

If Piper was trying to be stealthy, he failed. I heard him approach the door inside before he peeled back the window covering and glared out.

“What are you doing, old dude? Get lost.”

As I’ve already said, I’m not that old. But, given I’d put on a shaggy gray wig and plastered fake beard crap on my face, I give it to him.

A dog barked then yelped as the face pushed closer into the window. “Shut up, mutt. What good are you? This old fart is almost in the house and you just noticed?”

Time to play the role.

“You got my Rufus? Give me my dog.” I banged on the door again. “Now, before I call the cops. Dog napper.”

“It’s my dog, old dude,” Piper yelled. “Get off my property or I’ll kick your old ugly butt.”

I held up the leash and took a step back, turned in a slow circle to appear dazed. Then, I began to cry. It took nearly a full minute before Piper opened the door and stepped cautiously outside.

“What the hell is wrong with you, old dude? My dog isn’t Rufus.”

I turned to him, reached up to wipe my tearless eyes, and let my bright red identification bracelet show below my pajama sleeve.

“Where am I? Who’s Rufus?” I turned in a circle again and let a few more whimpers out. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?”

At first, Piper turned red-faced with anger. Then, when he saw my medical bracelet, he reached out and grabbed it. “Oh, you’re one of those Alzheimer’s people. Get the hell out of here. Understand? Go home. Shoo.”

Home, indeed. “This is my home. What are you doing here?”

Beside Piper, a brawny black lab trotted into the doorway and barked. Not a threatening bark. More like an obligatory “woof.” After two such woofs, he trotted up to me and sat wagging.

“Useless dog. What are you doing inside?” He grabbed the dog by the collar and dragged him past me. He shook him several times, cursing. After berating him again with another smack to his hindquarters, he found a short chain affixed to a big walnut tree in the front yard and clipped it on his collar. “Flippin’ mutt. You’re supposed to warn me before they get to the door.”

“Don’t hurt my Rufus,” I yelled.

The chain was twisted and wrapped around the tree. The lab only had about two feet of room to move. There was no water bowl and no signs of one anywhere. The wear marks on the grass suggested the dog spent too much time chained to that tree.

What an asshole.

“What are you doing to my Rufus?” I growled. “Where’s his food and water?”

“Screw the dog. Maybe now he’ll bark when he’s supposed to.” Piper shoved me sideways and reentered the house. “Get the hell out of here or I’ll call the cops.”

“Call? I didn’t call you.”

“Jesus, I don’t have time for this.” He squared off on me in the doorway. “Get lost, old dude.”

“What about my Rufus?” I shoved Piper back a step. That surprised him. I guess old men with Alzheimer’s should be weak and defenseless. “Get out of my house.”

Piper reared back to strike me and held his fist in a threat. “I’m gonna put you straight.” His smartwatch buzzed wildly and flashed like Dick Tracey was calling. If you don’t get the shout out to Dick, forget it. You’re way too young to understand. “Go dammit.”

“Not until I get my Rufus.”

His watch signaled him again.

“Ah, shit. No. No. No.” Piper shoved me sideways and I feigned a fall just inside the doorway. He kicked at me and barely connected as I parried with my arm. “Get outta here, old dude. Wander or doddle your way back where you came. I got my own problems.” He shoved me out the doorway, swung the door to shut it, and ran down the hallway.

I, not being a confused old geezer, lodged my foot in the door before it closed. With no more than a sore big toe when it hit, I kept the door ajar.

I followed his footfalls to the back of the house. I might be committing a few felonies soon, so I slipped on leather driving gloves to eliminate the chance of any fingerprints. After all, my felony count had just started and the night was young.

I know cool TV stuff like that.

At the end of the hall, I descended the stairs into a dark basement. There, a small room lay ahead, lighted by a single overhead light that bathed the room in a hazy illumination. There were only a few old boxes stacked around and a bicycle hanging on a wall rack. Ahead was a heavy, steel door, still ajar. A carnival of flickering lights escaped through the opening. Beyond, I heard Piper cursing and babbling in a panicked voice.

I eased inside and found a larger section of the basement. The space was lined with soundproof tiles and heavy industrial carpeting. There was a refrigerator and small stove on one side of the room, and cabinets of computers and electronics on the other. Between them was a command console and two gamer’s chairs facing a wall of computer monitors and large video screens. The walls not blocked by computer gadgets were covered with movie and book posters of every major spy thriller I’d ever heard of. One was a poster of a pale-faced Alec Guinness wearing oversized, dark-framed glasses—an aged, probably original collector’s poster of John Le Carre’s Smiley’s People.

Holy crap, Billy Piper was a wannabe spy.

“Shit, they caught me.” Piper stood in front of a shelf of electronics and spun around when I stepped inside. “What the hell, old dude?”

We had to talk about that old dude thing. I was getting there, but really, how rude?

“I told you what would happen if you didn’t leave.” Piper balled his fist and came toward me. “It’s gonna cost you. You should’ve left to find Rufus.”

“Who the hell is Rufus?” I asked.

I don’t know if it was my sudden calm, steady voice, or the silenced .22 pistol in my hand—aimed at him—that startled him the most. Either way, I had his attention.

“What the … who are you, old dude?” He stared at the pistol. “You don’t have Alzheimer’s.”

“Nope.”

“Who then?” He took a step back as his face tightened and filled with so much anger his cheeks were ablaze. “Ah, shit. Are you with them?”

“Them?” I waived my pistol back and forth to keep his attention. “Explain.”

“Screw you.” He spun around as his computers began wailing some kind of alarm. “Come on man, I got bigger problems than anything you can bring. If you don’t get outta here, those problems are going to be yours, too. Go find Rufus or whatever. Get out.”

I aimed the pistol at his head. “I think not, Billy.”

He spun back around at me. “You know me? Did they send you?”

“Oh, I know you.” Boy was he slow. “I’m here about money and information. I have no idea who ‘they” are. Although, ‘they’ might be like my clients. You hacked them and now they want their files and money returned. Right, Chip Magnet?”

“Oh, man. You are them.” His face blanched and the tough guy drained away. “Dude, I got money. I can pay. I pay you and you say I wasn’t home. Deal?”

Desperation replaced his bravado he’d taunted me with moments ago. “Chip Magnet, are you for real? What a totally bullshit handle, Piper.”

He shrugged. “It means—”

“I know what it means, idiot. Look, Billy, you hacked the wrong people—my people. I’m here to fix things. And in the future—if you have one—you might take care who you hack. Some folks out there don’t go to the police. They don’t hire lawyers or call the credit bureau.”

“Huh?” His eyes locked on my pistol as it raised to eye level. “What?”

“They send me.”

Chapter Two

U.C.

The man in the expensive Saville Row suit and Gucci loafers sipped his vodka martini and settled back on his king bed, pillows plumped and perfectly positioned by the staff. He glanced around his Waldorf Astoria suite feeling very pleased with himself. Never had his accommodation been as nice. Never had his payment been as nice—nor as often—as with this assignment. He wondered how long it would be before it would all end.

The man wore a collarless shirt that fit snug over ripped muscles. His head was mostly bald but for close-cut, thinning dark hair around the sides and back. His face was narrow and strong, accentuated by a salt and pepper beard that was three days of growth meticulously trimmed for effect—a dangerous, stay-clear effect. In the years he’d operated at the higher end of his profession, he found his persona and image as daunting to his prey as his skills. The million-dollar benefactors he serviced expected a little refinement and image, not to be confused with Hollywood assassins cloaked in black leather feigning brooding personalities. His clients demanded thoughtfulness, the ability to move in any surroundings—Washington dinner clubs or Bangkok brothels.

U.C. had mastered the chameleon persona years before.

The satellite phone on his nightstand vibrated. He scooped it up. The Controller didn’t like to wait. Not for the million-dollar price tag for U.C.’s services. Glancing at the screen, the call wasn’t from the Controller, but one of the minions sitting in a lesser hotel room somewhere in the bowels of Alexandria, Virginia.

“Yes?”

The voice was frantic. “U.C., I found him. There’s a problem.”

“Problem?” U.C.—bestowed upon him many years prior because of his preference to operate against his targets Up Close—sipped his drink. “If you found the target trying to hack our servers, just send me the address and—”

“He got through.”

“What?” U.C. bolted upright and spilled his drink. “You told me the security was impenetrable.”

Silence.

“Well?”

“Someone left some nodes insecure, maybe. I don’t know.”

U.C.’s mind raced. “An inside job?”

“Maybe.”

He closed his eyes. “Sweet Jesus.”

“U.C.?” The caller hesitated. “The hacker got all the way into the E-Suite.”

He was on his feet now, moving around the room gathering his things—the most important ones—his shoulder bag, jacket, and silenced pistol.

“Did you hear me?”

U.C. grunted, “Text me the address. Get four men there fast. I’ll meet you there.”

Hesitation, then, “Orders?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

U.C. tapped off the call and instantly activated the satellite text program. As he did, the Sat phone concurrently launched an encryption program that NSA would take years to break—another luxury of working for the Controller.

He typed out a simple message—Urgent. Hack successful. Compromised. I’ll contain.

Miles away, across the Potomac, the Sat Text arrived at the Controller’s private office. It took only moments to return a response.

U.C. rarely initiated such calls. Rarely one marked with “Urgent.”

The Controller—Define compromise.

U.C.—Total.

The Controller—Confidence?

U.C. finished his text and exited his suite—Whisper is compromised.

***

Tj O’Connor is an award-winning author of mysteries and thrillers. He’s an international security consultant specializing in anti-terrorism, investigations, and threat analysis—life experiences that drive his novels. With his former life as a government agent and years as a consultant, he has lived and worked around the world in places like Greece, Turkey, Italy, Germany, the United Kingdom, and throughout the Americas—among others.

In his spare time, he’s a Harley Davidson pilot, a man-about-dogs (and now cats), and a lover of adventure, cooking, and good spirits (both kinds).

He was raised in New York’s Hudson Valley and lives with his wife, Labs, and Maine Coon companions in Virginia where they raised five children who supply a growing tribe of grands.

Catch Up With Tj O'Connor:

tjoconnor.com
Goodreads
BookBub - @tj37
Amazon Author
Instagram - @tjoconnorauthor
Twitter/X - @Tjoconnorauthor
Facebook - @TjOConnor.Author
YouTube - @tjoconnorauthor3905

#BookRecommendations #BookLovers #MustRead #Suspenseful #NewRelease #PageTurner #Bookworms #BookAddict #BookBuzz #BookishCommunity #AmReading #BookNerds

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

Don't Miss Out! Enter Now for Your Chance to Win!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Tj O'Connor. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

Can't see the giveaway? Click Here!

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

The Last Door Ajar by Michael Holly Barrett Book Blast!

2025-04-25T04:00:00.113-05:00

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Michael Holly Barrett will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

It is 1945. The infamous Max Smartz, superspy; Eva Braun, wife of Adolf Hitler; Joseph Goebbels, propaganda minister; and Otto Klugg, intelligence officer, do not die at the end of World War II, but trick the guards in the Fuhrerbunker tunnels, allowing them to make their escape. Their escape plan is to reach war-neutral Southern Ireland, where Maxwell Smartz has an established base and is familiar with rural south Kerry and its people.

They evade capture and eventually reach France. Here, they meet with a good friend and colleague, an undercover agent called Maurice Le Blanc, who asks them to assist him in retrieving some stolen gold bars.

After finding the fortune, the friends attempt to retrieve it in an old Dutch van but are continually thwarted and risk losing everything. To complicate matters, they learn that Max's brother, Victor, has been incarcerated in the notorious Spandau prison and is being tried for Nazi war crimes. They hatch a plot to save him, but is it worth the danger of going back to Berlin and being caught?

Read an Excerpt

After the D-Day landings, things started to go all wrong for Hitler and his Third Reich. Even before that, things started to go wrong for Hitler. He was not a good military strategist, in fact he was a bad one, and he meddled where he shouldn’t have poked his nose in. Invading Russia and attacking England were two big mistakes. That weakened his former strength. When 1945 came, it was near the end for him. By April the 20th, his birthday, it was almost all over for Germany. The bunker was built as a last resort, tunnels were dug out as escape routes when the worst came to the worst, and the worst did come to the worst. But all was not lost for Herr Hitler and he didn’t know it; his wife of only a few weeks, had other plans. She was not about to give up her life to some mad dog Russians or Yankee Americans. Now she was scheming on how to broach the subject with the boss. When is the best time to let him know of their plans of escape? She already had made contact with people on the outside who could help her, them. The Russians and the English, Yanks were all involved in a race to get into Berlin first and claim the head of the monster, Hitler. Goebbels was given implicit instructions when the final day would come to commit suicide, and he would have to dig a hole outside the bunker and then set fire to their bodies and fill in the hole. It was all so depressing for the newly-wed woman — the honeymoon was short-lived, and her grave was just a few hundred yards away.

About the Author: My humble beginnings in a terrace house with an outdoor toilet and indoor rats. The drinking water was got from a public pump in the street. We were all sailing in the Titanic,Third Class, but we were not aware of anything better. We had so much fun, swimming in the river. As kids we had wonderful imaginations.The only luxuries we ever saw were in the Cinema, usually American films, people smoking and drinking alcohol.

Everyone in the town of County Cork, Ireland seemed to be in the same boat; we made the best of it until the swinging sixties came along and changed everything. In spite of our poverty, I managed to get a College education. But opportunities were as scarce as rich Uncles. The Christian Brothers were brutal, and handy with the cane, in National School. I was lucky like many fellows my own age to get an apprenticeship as a diesel mechanic. Soon developed a taste for Alcohol, and got into trouble pretty soon, was lucky again to find A.A. and get my act together in 1978.

My hero died in 1977, Elvis Presley, the music stopped, the sixties was over, the Beatles were broken up, CCR, too. So getting sober was the best thing to do, under the miserable circumstances. I got a job as a Pipe Welder with ASME 1X certificate and began working around Europe, finally settling in warm Spain, Barcelona and met a Catalunya woman.

Started writing for the first time, mostly comedies, Peter Sellers style, another hero of mine.

This is my second published book, I also self published earlier works Like ,'Gorilla Days in Ireland' by Michael Barrett, on Amazon. The Frankie Stein Enigma, and others, I paint oil and acrylic pictures, write mountains of poetry, sing and play the guitar.

' I do just about everything, that doesn't make any money for me.' But love doing what I do, writing poetry is mind stimulating, energising.

My favourite actors are William Holden, Warren Oates, Gregory Peck, and favourite detective the great Peter Falk in Columbo, a genius and Clouseau, Peter Sellers, and Peter Ustinov.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100045861996652
Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/michael-barrett-78b686103/

AMAZON.COM: https://amazon.com/dp/177962574X
AMAZON.CA: https://amazon.ca/dp/177962574X
BOOKTOPIA: https://www.booktopia.com.au/search.ep?keywords=9781779625748
ABEBOOKS: https://www.abebooks.com/products/isbn/9781779625748
BETTERWORLD BOOKS: https://www.betterworldbooks.com/product/detail/9781779625748

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Murder at Meadows Lake Clubhouse (Soup the Supernatural Kitten Mysteries) by Debbie De Louise Book Tour!

2025-04-25T04:00:00.111-05:00

Widow and retired realtor, Rose Fairchild, is gifted with a sixth sense. Moving from Long Island to a community in South Carolina, Rose is reluctant to leave the house she shared with her husband Harvey and her cat Moxie before they died, but a strange vision of a disappearing kitten on the community’s website intrigues her.

When Rose arrives in the Meadows Lake community, she meets two singles her age: Grant, a real estate agent and widower, and Blake, the divorced Fallsview sheriff. She also meets the orange cat of her vision who introduces herself as Soup and claims to be sent by Rose’s husband as a guide for her new life.

Soon after, a murder takes place at the clubhouse. The victim is the restaurant cook who wasn’t well-liked, and Rose becomes involved in the sheriff’s investigation, only to receive a written threat to stop snooping around. Will her visions help her solve the case... or will she need help from her supernatural kitten?

About Debbie De Louise

Debbie De Louise is an award-winning author and a retired reference librarian. She is a member of Sisters-in-Crime, International Thriller Writers, and the Cat Writers’ Association. She writes two cozy mystery series, the Cobble Cove Mysteries and Buttercup Bend Mysteries.

She’s also written a paranormal romance, three standalone mysteries, a time-travel novel, and a collection of cat poems. Her stories and poetry appear in over a dozen anthologies. Debbie also writes articles for cat magazines.

She recently moved from Long Island to South Carolina, where she lives with her husband, daughter, and three cats.

Learn more about Debbie and her books by visiting her website at

https://debbiedelouise.com

Website/Blog/Newsletter Sign-Up

https://debbiedelouise.com

Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/debbie.delouise.author/

Twitter

https://twitter.com/Deblibrarian

Goodreads

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2750133.Debbie_De_Louise

Amazon Author Page

http://amzn.to/2bIHdaQ

All Author

https://allauthor.com/author/debbiedelouise/

Instagram

https://www.instagram.com/debbie_writer/

https://www.linkedin.com/in/debbiedelouise/

Bookbub

https://www.bookbub.com/profile/debbie-de-louise

Debbie’s Character’s Chat Group

https://www.facebook.com/groups/748912598599469/

Sneaky the Library Cat’s Blog: https://Sneakylibrarycat.wordpress.com

Purchase LinkS

TOUR PARTICIPANTS

April 23 – Jody's Bookish Haven – SPOTLIGHT

April 23 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT

April 24 – Christy's Cozy Corners – AUTHOR GUEST POST

April 24 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

April 25 – Ascroft, eh? – CHARACTER INTERVIEW

April 25 – Celticlady's Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

April 26 – Socrates Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

April 26 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book

– SPOTLIGHT

April 27 – Cozy Up With Kathy – CHARACTER GUEST POST

April 28 – Boys' Mom Reads! – REVIEW

April 28 – Frugal Freelancer – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

April 29 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

April 30 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT

Asset in Black by Casey Prescott Book Tour! @SilverDaggerBookTours #AssetInBlack #CaseyPrescott #JanetMorris #ChristopherCrosbyMorris @PerseidPublishing @perseid_press

2025-04-24T03:32:00.001-05:00

A man without a country.

A spy without a master.

A rogue with one more mission.

Asset in Black

by Casey Prescott

From the minds of Janet & Chris Morris

Genre

Action Techno-Thriller

A man without a country.

A spy without a master.

A rogue with one more mission.

Cordell 'Cory' Hunt, a renegade free agent who has worked for both U.S. and Soviet intelligence agencies, is recalled from Morocco by U.S. agents to give one final debriefing. Within hours, he's headed on a nightmare black op with more hanging in the balance than he'd ever expected.

Asset in Black is the single best espionage/spy thriller I've ever found. Complicated characters, women in major roles, shifting alliances and shifting loyalties, layers on layers, tremendous action sequences, a sleek plot, everything in perfect focus, a dog, and supremely satisfying ending. Thirty years after I first read it, it remains remarkably undated, and I'll still place it at the top of my top ten list. – Amazon Review

Amazon * Goodreads

Casey Prescott is a pseudonym for authors Janet Morris & Chris Morris

Best selling author Janet Morris began writing in 1976 and has since published more than 30 novels, many co-authored with her husband Chris Morris or others. Most of her fiction work has been in the fantasy and science fiction genres, although she has also written historical and other novels. Morris has written, contributed to, or edited several book-length works of non-fiction, as well as papers and articles on nonlethal weapons, developmental military technology and other defense and national security topics.

Christopher Crosby Morris (born 1946) is an American author of fiction and non-fiction, as well as a lyricist, musical composer, and singer-songwriter. He is married to author Janet Morris. He is a defense policy and strategy analyst and a principal in M2 Technologies, Inc. He writes primarily as Chris Morris, but occasionally uses pseudonyms.

Website * Facebook * Twitter

* Instagram * Bookbub

Amazon * Amazon * Goodreads

#technothriller #actionbooks #thrillerbooks #spybooks #suspensebooks #militarythriller #books #booklovers #BookTour #Giveaway #bookrecommendations #BookBlogger #Bookstagram #bookish #bookclub #MustRead #Writersofinstagram #AmReading #BookPromo #AuthorPromo #writingcommunity #readerscommunity

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Enter to win a choice of print or ebook copy of

Asset in Black

a $10 Amazon giftcard

– 1 winner each!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Melody of Evil Hani’s Daughter Mysteries by N.L. Holmes Book Feature!

2025-04-24T03:00:00.068-05:00

Ancient Egypt’s Most Reluctant (and Beloved) Investigators

This series doesn't scream “tour” — it whispers, “pull up a stool in a shadowy courtyard, and listen closely.” Through four standalone books, N.L. Holmes introduces Neferet and Bener-ib, healers who stumble repeatedly into murder — and make the choice to uncover the truth, no matter the cost.

Whether it’s a party gone wrong (The Melody of Evil
), or an investment scheme leaving a trail of bodies (Wheel of Evil), Holmes invites readers into a quiet corner of ancient Egypt rarely explored in fiction — one where justice is personal, and healing sometimes starts with truth.

Luka A Los Angeles Quakes Hockey Series Book 2 by Alisa Jean Book Tour! @SilverDaggerBookTours #Luka #LAQuakesHockeySeries @alisajean.author

2025-04-23T21:44:00.084-05:00

From rivalries to secret glances across the rink,

dive into a story filled with passion, ice, and a little bit of chaos.

Luka

A Los Angeles Quakes Hockey Series Book 2

by Alisa Jean

Genre: Sports Hockey Romance

As the hottest left-winger in the league, I was the handsome golden boy for the L.A. Quakes. But after suffering horrific injuries during a game, my life is on a breakaway to disaster. My biggest fear is a darkness from my past is about to repeat itself. All I want to do is hide from the world, but fate has another plan.

Feisty beauty Liliana Alvarez doesn’t suffer fools lightly, especially when it comes to her kids in her new non-profit outreach. She’ll drag me, kicking and screaming, if necessary, from the hole I’ve crawled into if it’s the last thing she does. For some reason, she is patient enough to wait for me to heal and something sparks between us, wounds, and all. But her abusive ex-boyfriend threatens to shatter our hopes of a happily ever after.

Can enemies-turned-lovers help save each other or is the ice tilted against us?

Luka:
Hockey Romance,
Enemies to Lovers,
Beauty & The Beast,
Tortured Hero,
Curvy Heroine
Different Cultures,
Stalker Ex-Boyfriend

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Google * Kobo

Lincoln

A Los Angeles Quakes Hockey Series Book 1

L.A. Quakes’ fans stomped their feet to cheers of “Caveman!” when I made incredible saves in the crease, leading the team to two Stanley Cup victories. I thought I could go on forever, but at thirty-six, the clock’s counting down even for Lincoln Cavanaugh. Social media and fan sites are filled with rumors of me being traded. Or worse. My future looks as uncertain as a loose puck on the ice.

My fate rests in the hands of Catherine Bishop, daughter of the team’s owner and a power to be reckoned with. And what fine hands they are, along with everything else about her. A chance encounter leads to sparks between us, but is falling in love with this incredible woman worth the risk?

Because with her by my side, I’m once again an unstoppable force between the pipes, and victories pile up like never before. However, our love is a ticking time bomb because Catherine has dreams of making history as the first female and person of color to own an NHL team. Sleeping with a player would make that all go up in smoke. I fear when the truth comes out, it will be the final buzzer for us.

Lincoln:

Hockey Romance

Forbidden Love

Dating the Boss's Daughter

Sneaking Around

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Google * Kobo * Smashwords * Books2Read * Bookbub * Goodreads

#sportsromance #romancebooks #romancelovers #Luka #LAQuakesHockeySeries @alisajean.author #books #readers #reading #booklovers #BookTour #Giveaway #bookbuzz #bookboost #bookrecommendations #BookBlogger #Bookstagram #bookish #bookclub #MustRead #Writersofinstagram #AmReading #BookPromo #AuthorPromo #writingcommunity #readerscommunity

Alisa Jean is the pseudonym for award-winning authors Marla A. White and C J Bahr. They first teamed up over thirty years ago over a bottle of Zima (don’t ask) while polishing their gear for a horse show. They’ve since moved on to better beverages and writing novels. Separately, Marla prefers to murder characters in the usual way, while C J uses paranormal means. The long-time best friends joined together as a writing team through their mutual love of hockey. Wonder twin powers activated! Their hockey romances examine flawed characters with heart, humor, and sexy sizzle.

Website * Facebook * Instagram

* Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a $20 giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Only in September by Cynthia Flowers Virtual Book Tour!

2025-04-23T09:15:00.000-05:00

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions to celebrate the release day of ONLY IN SEPTEMBER by Cynthia Flowers.

Cynthia will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

When Jacqueline follows her trusty Labrador Bailey down a hidden path to the beach, she's unaware that her vacation plans on a small island off the New England coast has already taken her life in a new direction. Running into an unassuming local beach comber stirs new thoughts, desires, and a self-determination she never knew she possessed. Jacqueline will need to trust her instincts and make the most of what fate has in store if she wants the future that, until now, she has only dared to dream of.

Read an Excerpt

Hours later, the sound of clanking wine bottles in Jacqueline’s beach bag announced her arrival. Michael turned to her with feigned surprise.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he teased.

She raised her beach bag. “Where should I put these ladies?”

“Under the deck next to the cooler should be fine,” he directed.

Everything seemed set up. A blanket laid with plates, flatware, wine glasses, and nearby a cooking fire pit.

“It looks like you’ve been here for a bit. Is our sumptuous gourmet meal in there?” She pointed to the soft-pack cooler tucked under the deck.

“Oh yes, our Michelin three-star gastronomic feast awaits!” he announced with a wink.

Little was spoken while they ate. Instead, they each emitted sounds of contentment with every other bite.

“Well, I can’t say that you outdid yourself because this is the first meal of yours that I’ve eaten. However, I can say that it outdoes anything I ever made for a picnic dinner.” She raised her empty glass of Sancerre.

He acknowledged the praise with a humble nod and reached to refill her glass.

She pulled her glass away before he could pour. “I think I’ve reached my limit. Even though it’s a small island and I know my way home, I’d rather be safe than sorry. Besides, where are the pooches?”

“Oh, they’re at the beach just below us.” He motioned as he helped Jacqueline up, so she could see.

“Wow, a full moon. Look, it’s lighting up the ocean all the way out to that small fishing boat.” She pointed. “I could sleep out here all night.”

“Funny you should mention it. I did bring two sleeping bags just in case. They’re stowed under the deck,” he said with a bashful grin.

About the Author: Cynthia Flowers, a recently retired advertising professional, now grant writer, resides with her husband and four-year old Labrador named Eddie, at their “sanctuary” in Upstate New York, Although previously published, this is Cynthia's first book of fiction. Early on in grade school, Cynthia looked forward to creative writing class and enjoyed reading her stories aloud to her eager classmates.

Amazon

GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE

Cynthia Flowers will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Fantaisie by Michael Kenneth Smith Book Feature Tour April 21-25, 2025!

2025-04-23T05:00:00.053-05:00

In Fantaisie, Michael Kenneth Smith explores how love and loyalty survive in the shadow of political unrest. Jan Orlinski, a pilot haunted by war, and Sophie Gordon, a woman seeking atonement, find themselves on opposite sides of an invisible battlefield. What follows is a suspense-filled journey through betrayal, strategy, and hope.

Smith previously authored The Postwoman, a novel based on the real-life heroics of a WWII resistance figure. Fantaisie adds to his body of work focused on historical transformation and the people caught in it.

Website | Facebook | X

Excerpt

The black sedan was still following them as they neared the airport, albeit at a distance. Jan decided whoever it was wanted to keep an eye on them but wasn't looking for a confrontation. He glanced back again as Brian made a quick turn and then another. After four years in Matadi, he knew the city's streets well. Soon, they were headed back across the bridge into the heart of town, the sedan no longer visible behind them. The sun beat down as Brian guided the truck through Matadi's bustling streets, which smelled of exhaust and overripe fruit from market stalls and street vendors. He turned down narrow alleys twice, the truck's tires screeching in protest.

Five minutes later, they pulled up to a small, tidy house in an affluent neighborhood.

"Come on," Brian said. "We need to talk."

They entered the house, mostly empty and neglected in contrast to its well-maintained exterior. Dust motes danced in shafts of sunlight, revealing bare patches where furniture once stood. In the kitchen, a mountain of dirty dishes teetered in the sink. Brian gestured to one of two wooden chairs. "Water?"

"Yes, please," Jan said, taking a seat and accepting the glass. The water tasted brackish; he grimaced.

"Matadi water," Brian said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Safe, but an acquired taste."

Jan's eyes fell on a large black box next to the refrigerator. It hummed softly, its face a maze of dials, switches, and blinking lights. An antenna poked out from behind it, disappearing through a small hole in the wall. A large radio? He pushed the glass away and folded his arms as Brian sat.

"First of all," he said, "my name isn't Brian Rich. Until recently, I worked for the Office of Strategic Services, or OSS. It was established in 1942 by President Roosevelt as America's first centralized intelligence agency, created to coordinate espionage activities behind enemy lines during World War II. Our work in the Congo was part of a larger operation called the Alsos Mission. Alsos is Greek for 'grove,' which was General Groves's codename—he was the head of the Manhattan Project."

"The people who created the atomic bomb," Jan said.

"Exactly. And Shinkolobwe is where the uranium came from."

"Hold on," Jan said, feeling numb. "Are you saying—"

Brian nodded. "That's not cobalt ore you've been hauling. It's uranium. We kept it from the Germans, though truthfully, they never seemed that interested. Our Alsos teams discovered their program was years behind ours. But the Russians, on the other hand..."

Jan drank more water, taste be damned. "The Russians? Is that why—"

"Why did they steal your cargo? Most likely. They want the bomb, Jan. They want to be a superpower. And now that Alsos has been disbanded and the OSS is being dissolved, replaced by something called the Central Intelligence Group, there's a vacuum. The Soviets are rushing to fill it."

"But wait," Jan said. "What about Gerston? If he's supplying the Russians, why would they need to steal my cargo?"

"That's the question," Brian said. "Maybe multiple entities are competing to be Russia's supplier. Or maybe this Gerston is trying to keep the uranium out of Russian hands. Or maybe he's working for another country that wants the bomb. We just don't know."

"Okay, so what now?" Jan asked, his voice hoarse.

Brian stood, pacing the small kitchen. "I'm sending an encrypted message to Washington. We should hear back by tomorrow. Until then, let's get you back to the airport."

Brian took an entirely different route this time, but no one seemed to be following them. As they pulled up to the C-47, he turned to Jan. "I'll be back in the morning after I get word from Washington."

As Brian's truck disappeared into the distance, Jan slumped against the side of the C-47, its metal skin still hot from the day's sun. He hoped Burundi had found a mechanic and would be back soon. He wanted to get home. He was done working for Gerston, that much he knew. In fact, he would have abandoned the man's plane, but Jan had no other way home.

The African sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and purple. Jan climbed into the plane for the night. With his cargo stolen, nothing was left to guard, and there was no reason to sleep outside again under the plane's wing. He supposed that was a silver lining. He was about to close the rear door when something across the tarmac caught his eye. He squinted into the gathering darkness and saw the black sedan, parked almost out of sight behind a dilapidated hangar. He pulled the door shut, locked it, and lay down with the revolver at his side.

While researching for Fantaisie, I hit a roadblock trying to accurately portray the mechanics of the two-seater Messerschmitt Bf-109G-12 that plays such a crucial role in Jan and Sophie's escape. Aviation forums and history books offered conflicting information, and I was struggling to visualize how a fighter pilot accustomed to a Hurricane would adapt to German controls.

My breakthrough came at a small aviation museum outside Paris where they had a partially restored cockpit section. The curator, noticing my intense interest, introduced me to an elderly aviation engineer who had worked on restoring various WWII aircraft. Though he'd never flown them in combat, he understood their mechanical differences intimately.

He spent an afternoon explaining the quirks of the Bf-109's control systems, even sketching diagrams of the cockpit layout and explaining how the handling would differ from Allied planes. His technical knowledge paired with his storyteller's ability to convey the sensory experience of these machines transformed what would have been generic flying scenes into something much more authentic.

When the book was nearly finished, I sent him the chapter featuring Jan's escape flight. His note back simply said, "I could feel the wind through those bullet holes in the wing fabric." That validation from someone who truly understood these machines meant everything.

A Dead Man Speaks by Lisa Jones Gentry Book Blitz@#ADeadManSpeaks #LisaJonesGentry #XpressoTours @XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣⁣

2025-04-23T03:00:00.001-05:00

A Dead Man Speaks by

Lisa Jones Gentry

(The Clive January Mystery Series, #1)

Publication date November 29th 2024

Genres

Adult, Mystery, Paranormal, Thriller

Introducing the first in a new paranormal crime mystery series set in 1980s, New York City on Wall Street

Clive January is a driven, self-made Black man, a ruthless, wildly successful investment banker who had it all – until he is shot and killed from behind by an unknown assailant. As Clive lies in a pool of blood, his life slowly ebbing away, he hears voices, unearthly beings tormenting him, telling him that he will burn in hell, unless he finds out who killed him. Now before it’s too late, his ghost must solve the crime of his own murder and his only choice is to work with the white racist cop assigned to his case, Detective Bob Greene.

Their relationship begins in hate and distrust, but soon they each realize that they have more in common than they could ever believe. And in the wrenching ending, they discover the truth that frees them both.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

—

Lisa will be at the LA Times Festival of Books on Saturday April 26th at 12 noon!

—

EXCERPT:

I slipped into my car, the creamy leather seats enfolding me as I whizzed down the expressway…the smell of the ocean filled the car…an aphrodisiac, teasing my senses. I thought about her waiting for me…opening the door…And then I saw her face, the light green eyes clouded against her golden, taffy-colored skin, the thick mop of dark, curly hair framing her face. How often had I held her, how often had I seen her lips part in that same half-teasing, half-defiant smile…

“Hi…”

I grabbed her, wanting to make love to her before I told her. But she smiled playfully, pushing me away. “Look what I got.”

She pulled out a gram of icy, white coke, licking the edge of the paper hungrily. “To celebrate.” Would she still want to celebrate when I told her that I’m leaving, but not with her? All the years between us, but I still can’t do it; I still can’t surrender my soul to her. Would she understand this time, too?

“Here, Clive. It’s good…” A sucking noise. The dull light glinted against the pipe, trembling ever so slightly. She must really be fucked up.

“Almost as good as the first time…remember…”

That’s what she always said. Ssssssssssssss, a nice long one. My eyes shut tightly, letting the feeling curl over me like a woman’s touch, soft, seductive, and always so deadly.

“I’m gonna get some champagne.” She leaned down over me, kissing me slowly. I could taste the coke on her lips. Her hand rubbed my cheek. Tiny, soft hands.

My eyes followed her small body weaving out of the room, down the hallway, and into the kitchen. I closed my eyes again, going over every detail of my plan in my mind for the hundredth or maybe thousandth time; I’d lost track now. Every step sharpened by time and urgency. One more week, and I’d have the final payment and my freedom from a life that was no longer mine.

I was finally starting to relax; the blow was starting to kick in. It always took longer when I was tensed up, but now the tingly feeling was rushing through me. A sharp, searing pain was suddenly tearing through my back, ripping the breath out of me. I doubled over. It felt as if someone had taken a thousand knives and exploded them in me. And it was all a blur, except for blood everywhere: on my chest, covering my hands, the white carpet, and the room’s empty.

And I realize, I’d been fuckin’ shot…somebody’s…but now the room was spinning. I knew this was it. The dark curtains were enveloping me and then the light…like the light at home, soft…beckoning…taking me to the place I thought I’d forgotten. And then I smiled, I understood now, all the years, all the money…the lies, but you could never escape, it would always pull you back…

⁣⁣#bookstagram #bookworm #bookish #booklover #bibliophile #booknerd #booksofinstagram #bookaddict #bookstagrammer #igreads #bookshelf #bookaholic #instabook #writersofinstagram #bookblogger #readersofinstagram #instabooks

People would consider Lisa Jones Gentry, the author of “Forbidden Love” a true renaissance woman, because the former entertainment attorney, became an artist, author, creative executive, and writer-producer for film, television and digital content…

Lisa discovered her passion for the creative side of the business while serving as broadcast counsel at CBS in New York City, where she was the lead attorney on deals ranging from multi-millions to billions, such as the Olympics and Major League Baseball deal. But her Hollywood calling changed from “behind-the-deal” to “behind-the-laptop”, and ultimately moved to LA to break into the business as a writer-producer. As luck would have it, the first film script that she and her writing partner wrote was optioned by Paramount.

For the next four years they had several screenplays and teleplays optioned and set up at networks and studios, including development deals. She then took that creative experience and brought it to her position as EVP of Development for the stalwart Western International Syndication, formerly a division of renowned Western International Media, once the largest media buying entity in the world. Charged with expanding the company’s traditional roster of syndicated programming into network and cable, she executive produced over 100 hours of television in various formats and genres, airing on broadcast and cable. She also structured a joint venture between French broadcasting giant TF-1, Stephen J. Cannell Productions and Western for the international distribution of a one hour dramatic series.

Though “behind-the-deal: again, she didn’t stop her work behind-the-laptop and during that time wrote her first novel, “A Dead Man Speaks.” It garnered her an NAACP Image Award nomination for Best Debut Author, followed by a Literary Critics Award nomination for best general fiction. And her creative roll continued with a First Look Deal for Lisa and her writing partner at Sony Pictures under their Screen Gems banner.

With the cataclysmic changes in the “business,” like many other writers and producers, it wasn’t long before Lisa expanded her focus to digital media and due to her writing and executive experience was recruited to be the CEO of Comedy Express, a start-up broadband network targeting the young adult male demo. Ultimately, Comedy Express was acquired by the famed National Lampoon.

Following the acquisition of Comedy Express, Lisa not only managed to write another book – this time as a co-author of the nonfiction, “So You Want to be A Lawyer,” now in its second printing –she continued her expansion into digital media and technology and worked as Co-CEO of another early stage start-up company that launched two 24/7 television networks on cable, IPTV and satellite networks outside the US in Europe and Asia. Today, Lisa is a frequent speaker on technology and digital media, at the Tribeca Film Festival, the FCC start up conference and many other venues.

As if all that she’s done isn’t enough, Lisa is also an accomplished artist, and has been exhibiting and selling her work for several years. She has had worked featured in television series and TV Movies and buyers of her work have included on air talent, Arthel Neville and television Executive Producer, Samm Art Williams.

And while she loves exploring her artistic side, Lisa has no intention of slowing down her writing, as she continues to flex her creative muscle with several TV and film projects that she’s developing as well as her current book, “Forbidden Love,” the true love story of a white nun and a black priest in the segregated fifties as told by their son Joe Steele.

Website

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

—

After Pearl by Stephen G. Eoannou April 14 - May 9, 2025 Virtual Book Tour!

2025-04-22T05:00:00.001-05:00

A Nicholas Bishop Mystery

1942

War rages in Europe. Pearl Harbor still smolders. And alcoholic private eye Nicholas Bishop wakes up on a hotel room floor with two slugs missing from his .38 revolver. The cops think he’s murdered lounge singer Pearl DuGaye, mobsters think he saw something he shouldn’t have, and Bishop remembers nothing…

Together with his indomitable assistant Gia Alessi, who he may or may not have fired, a WWI vet who often flashes back to 1918, and a one-eyed female dog named Jake, Bishop tries to piece together the events that took place during his disastrous five-day bender. Along the way, he stumbles across a dirty politician, a socialite and her unfaithful husband, and a cabal of American Nazis who are undoubtedly up to no good.

Written in the spirit of classic noir, Eoannou adds his own unique voice and flair to the genre in this, the first action-packed outing of the Nicholas Bishop Mysteries…

Praise for After Pearl:

"...thanks to Stephen Eoannou, Buffalo has a hard-boiled detective to call its own. Say hello to the irrepressible Nicholas Bishop"
~ Tim Wendel, Author of Rebel Falls

"After Pearl is a wonderfully rendered hard-boiled historical mystery reminiscent of Chandler's Marlowe novels."
~ Bruce Robert Coffin, International Bestselling author of The Turner and Mosley Files

"Mickey Spillane and Dashiell Hammett would be proud of this next generation author who takes their styles and not only matches them but adds his own unique flair and voice to the genre. This is a novel dying to be made into a movie."
~ Historical Fiction Company 5 Star Review

AFTER PEARL Trailer:

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Noir
Published by: Santa Fe Writers Project
Publication Date: May 1, 2025
Number of Pages: 260
ISBN: 9781951631475 (ISBN10: 1951631471)
Series: A Nicholas Bishop Mystery, Book 1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Talking Leaves Books

Read an excerpt

Chapter 1

Nicholas Bishop named the one-eyed dog Jake even though she was female. Jake seemed like a good name for a pup missing an eye. He couldn’t remember where the mutt had come from. When he awoke on the floor of his room at The Lafayette Hotel, she sat close by, giving him a single eye stare. Strong odds said he stole the dog. She didn’t weigh much, maybe ten pounds, easy enough to scoop under his arm as he staggered home.

He struggled to a sitting position and waited for the room to stop teetering. Vertebrae ground together as he rolled his head, hoping that would end the pounding between his ears. It didn’t. He massaged his closed eyelids. The corneas felt swollen beneath his fingertips. Jake watched all this, never once taking her eye off him.

Bishop took inventory when the world righted itself. Rubbing his chin, whiskers whispered against palm. He tried to guess how long it’d been since he’d shaved. Two days? Three? His shirt cuff was dirty and frayed. He pushed it higher on his arm. The Bulova was still on his wrist, the crystal cracked, hands frozen at 2:30. His pewter-handled cane was on the floor next to an empty bottle of Four Roses. The pain in his right foot stabbed sharper than usual. He wondered if it would swell when he unlaced his shoe. No memory of reinjuring it came to him. He patted his suitcoat and felt his wallet in the inside pocket and the .38 Detective Special holstered near his heart. The wallet was empty. There were four slugs in the snub nose. Not six. He sniffed. It had been fired.

He crawled to bed and pulled himself on the mattress, not bothering with his clothes. Jake hopped up, circled twice, then settled by the footboard, keeping her eye on Bishop as if her doubts about him were increasing now that he was conscious.

Memories were slivered as he tried to recall when he had fired the gun:

Day drinking at the Kitty Kat.

The revolving bar at The Chez Ami.

Perfume.

A blonde.

A car ride.

No recollections about a one-eyed dog or gunshots.

He checked the .38 again. Who had he fired at? Had he hit them? Killed them?

The ringing phone was an ice pick to his ear. The only way to stop the pain was by answering.

“Hello,” Bishop said, his voice raspy.

“Coppers.”

It took a heartbeat for the desk clerk’s voice to register. The line died. When it did, Bishop slammed the receiver into its cradle and swung his legs to the floor. The world again tottered. He swallowed bile until his swollen eyes teared. His damaged foot bore weight but each metatarsal sent ripples of agony with each step. He retrieved his cane and hat from the floor without toppling, something he considered miraculous, and felt grateful to the angel or demon in charge of keeping crippled detectives upright.

The hallway was deserted. He limped to the stairwell before the elevator full of cops arrived at his floor. Bishop didn’t mind talking to the police, but he wanted to know what they were after before he did, certain it had nothing to do with a stolen dog but everything to do with two fired slugs. Guilt, thick and dark, oozed through him but he couldn’t tell if it was old remorse or something new, heavier.

It was slow going down the stairs. He couldn’t outrace the fattest cop, not with his 4-F foot. He gripped the railing and leaned on the cane as he eased down each step, moving like a man much older than thirty. Jake waited on the landing, tilting her head as if to listen for shouts or thunderous feet descending from the floors above. There were none.

Was Buffalo’s Finest tossing his room, rifling through drawers, pulling suits from hangers, checking pockets for…what? His gun? He wished he could walk into The Allendale Theater, buy a nickel bag of popcorn, and watch the last few days of his life projected on the silver screen, certain it would be more informative than any newsreel.

When he reached the ground floor, he pushed open the fire exit and was blinded by sunshine reflected off the sidewalk and car fenders.

So, it’s afternoon, he thought. But was it Monday or Tuesday? Bishop raised his hand to shield his eyes. He didn’t see his Packard anywhere.

Benny The Junk Man stood by the hotel’s dented garbage cans. His cart was loaded with the day’s salvaged items—bundled rags, andirons, dresses, blouses. The clothing looked newer and of better quality than what Benny usually found. Bishop wondered if they’d been pulled from clotheslines. Unlike the mean drunks and meaner children who tormented him, Bishop knew Benny wasn’t stupid. He’d left the best part of himself in the Argonne still fighting that battle two decades later. He spent his days pushing his cart through the streets, crisscrossing Buffalo, searching for discarded treasures. His body passed through alleys rummaging for things to pawn, but what remained of his mind was mired in that burning forest surrounded by the dead and dying. Still, Benny sometimes saw and heard things that were real:

A woman got her purse snatched on Genesee Street.

There was a new girl, a real doll face, working at the Michigan Avenue brothel.

A big card game was going on above The New Genesee Restaurant.

He would whisper these truths to Bishop, and the shamus would pay for the information—a quarter, fifty cents, maybe a buck—even if it had nothing to do with the case he was working. Other times Bishop asked him to keep an eye out for a certain car or dame—nobody paid attention to a junk man lingering on a corner, just like no one had paid attention to a fifteen-year-old Bishop when he’d started working the streets. The information that Benny provided that was relevant to Bishop’s investigation was worth a fin or more—a fortune to a rag collector. Benny was still the good soldier, putting the mission first, and most times getting information the gimpy detective needed. Jake sniffed the junk man’s unlaced army boots.

“Benny, what do you know? What do you hear?”

Benny turned from the garbage pails and squinted as if trying to pick Bishop out of a crowd of gathering ghosts. Recognition registered in stages from the top down—brow wrinkled, eyes widened, mouth curved to a smile. “I didn’t know you had a dog, Bishop.”

“You see her, too?”

The junk man wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Have you seen my car, Benny? The Packard?”

“Your car?”

“The green convertible.”

Benny looked around the hotel alleyway and down Ellicott Street. “There’s no green car here, Bishop.”

“Keep your eyes open for it, all right? You know which one it is, don’t you? Let me know if you spot it.”

“You think someone stole your green car?”

“It’s probably parked in front of The Kitty Kat or The Chez. Hopefully, it’s not in a ditch somewhere.”

“Why would you leave your car in a ditch, Bishop?”

“For safekeeping,” Bishop said. “Say, you hear anything about a shooting or why the cops are looking for me?”

“I haven’t heard about those things.”

“Okay, maybe it’s nothing. But if you hear something or find my car, you come tell me. If I’m not here, leave a message with Corbett at the front desk.”

Benny saluted, his hand slicing the air as sharp as it had in 1918.

“Good man. Carry on,” Bishop said, and the junk man resumed rummaging through the garbage pails.

It was a four-block limp to The Kitty Kat to hunt for his car. Bishop wasn’t sure he could make it. He was considering sticking out his thumb when Lieutenant Darcy rounded the corner. His face, flushed pink from the heat, broke into a wide grin when he saw Bishop.

“Rats are always in alleys, but I found a weasel. You think you can outrun the law with that crippled foot, Bishop?”

“I’m not running, Lieutenant. I’m walking my dog.”

“That’s a dog? It’s in worse shape than you.”

“Me and Jake aren’t morning people.”

“Morning people? The day’s half done, Bishop.”

“Time flies.”

“Not in prison it don’t. Which is where you’re headed, draft dodger.”

Bishop winced and hoped it didn’t show. “Is sleeping late a crime?”

“No, but murder is. What do you know about Pearl DuGaye, smart guy?”

“Never heard of heard of her. Who is she?”

“A singer from The Chez Ami gone missing. We found her purse not far from here. Cleaned out, of course, except for one thing.”

“Trolley fare?”

“Your business card.” Darcy pulled out the card and read, “Bishop Investigations. Civil. Criminal. Missing Persons Located. Licensed and Bonded. Who the hell would bond a coward like you?”

Bishop took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “When did this DuGaye woman go missing?”

“Saturday.”

“What’s today?”

“Thursday.”

Jesus.

Darcy wiped his face with a handkerchief. “Funny you never heard of her. Not only was your card in her purse, I got a revolving bar full of people at The Chez Ami who saw you two together. They say you weren’t exactly acting like brother and sister.”

“You ever seen my sister, Lieutenant? She’s a looker.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you. I wouldn’t put anything past a guy who sticks his foot in front of a moving taxi to keep out of the army. Were you working for DuGaye or just working her?”

“I honestly can’t say, Lieutenant,” Bishop said, and wondered if she was blonde.

“If she hired you to protect her, it looks like you did your usual swell job. Speaking of which, how’s business?”

“It pays the light bill.”

“Not at your office it don’t. Heard you had to close that down. Got rid of that good-looking secretary, too. Lucky Teddy Thurston must be rolling in his grave.”

“I work out of The Lafayette now. Teddy would be fine with that.”

“The hell he would. Only whores work out of hotels. Funny how business dried up on you. I guess folks who lost husbands and sons on December seventh and at Bataan don’t want to hire a chicken-shit Jap lover. Makes me wonder why DuGaye hired you. She must be as shady as Fat Ira. I read you work for him these days.”

“I hear you work for Joey Bones. Have been for a long time.”

Darcy took a step forward and jabbed a finger at Bishop. “Listen, you crippled shit. If this Pearl DuGaye shows up dead, I’m pinning it on you. I got a nice frame already picked out.”

“Pleasure talking to you, Lieutenant, but I’m late for an appointment.”

“With which bottle?”

“Say hello to Joey for me.”

“Watch out for taxis, weasel. Wouldn’t want you to have two crippled feet.”

Bishop caned his way down Ellicott as Jake trotted ahead. The sun was hot on his neck. He could smell bourbon seeping through his pores. His stomach cramped and he wondered when he’d last eaten, uncertain he could keep anything down if he ate now. Guilt weighed on him, its cause remained unclear.

***

Stephen G. Eoannou is the author of the award-winning short story collection Muscle Cars and the novels Rook, Yesteryear, and After Pearl.

He holds an MFA from Queens University of Charlotte and an MA from Miami University.

He has been awarded an Honor Certificate from The Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators and the Best Short Screenplay Award at the 36th Denver Film Festival.

His latest novel, Yesteryear, was awarded the 2021 International Eyelands Award for Best Historical Novel, The Firebird Book Award for Biographical Fiction, and Shelf Unbound’s Notable Indy Books of 2023. He lives and writes in his hometown of Buffalo, New York, the setting and inspiration for much of his work.

Catch Up With Stephen G. Eoannou:

www.SGEoannou.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @seoannou
YouTube - @stepheneoannou341
X - @StephenGEoannou
Facebook - @steve.eoannou

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

Don't Miss Your Chance to Win! Enter Today!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Stephen G. Eoannou. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

Can't see the giveaway? Click Here!

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

The Ballad of Mary Kearney by Katherine Mezzacappa Blog Tour! #TheCoffeePotBookClub @cathiedunn #HistoricalFiction #IrishHistory #WomensFiction

2025-04-22T04:11:00.205-05:00

Book Title

The Ballad of Mary Kearneys"

Series

n/a

Author

Katherine Mezzacappa

Publication Date

14th January 2025

Publisher

Histria

Pages

288

The Ballad of Mary Kearney

Genre

Historical Fiction

Any Triggers

Some scenes of violence,

including judicial killing; rape.

Twitter Handle

@cathiedunn

Instagram Handle

@katmezzacappa

@thecoffeepotbookclub

Blurb

‘I am dead, my Mary; the man who loved you body and soul lies in some dishonorable grave.’ In County Down, Ireland, in 1767, a nobleman secretly marries his servant, in defiance of law, class, and religion. Can their love survive tumultuous times?

‘Honest and intriguing, this gripping saga will transport and inspire you, and it just might break your heart. Highly recommended.’ Historical Novel Society

'Mezzacappa brings nuance and a great depth of historical knowledge to the cross-class romance between a servant and a nobleman.' Publishers Weekly.

The Ballad of Mary Kearney is a compelling must-read for anyone interested in Irish history, told through the means of an enduring but ultimately tragic love.

Buy Link

Universal Buy Link

https://books2read.com/u/3yxPpJ

Author Bio

Katherine Mezzacappa is Irish but currently lives in Carrara, between the Apuan Alps and the Tyrrhenian Sea. She wrote The Ballad of Mary Kearney (Histria) and The Maiden of Florence (Fairlight) under her own name, as well as four historical novels (2020-2023) with Zaffre, writing as Katie Hutton. She also has three contemporary novels with Romaunce Books, under the pen name Kate Zarrelli.

Katherine’s short fiction has been published in journals worldwide. She has in addition published academically in the field of 19th century ephemeral illustrated fiction, and in management theory. She has been awarded competitive residencies by the Irish Writers Centre, the Danish Centre for Writers and Translators and (to come) the Latvian Writers House.

Katherine also works as a manuscript assessor and as a reader and judge for an international short story competition. She has in the past been a management consultant, translator, museum curator, library assistant, lecturer in History of Art, sewing machinist and geriatric care assistant.

In her spare time she volunteers with a second-hand book charity of which she is a founder member. She is a member of the Society of Authors, the Historical Novel Society, the Irish Writers Centre, the Irish Writers Union, Irish PEN / PEN na hÉireann and the Romantic Novelists Association, and reviews for the Historical Novel Review.

She has a first degree in History of Art from UEA, an M.Litt. in Eng. Lit. from Durham and a Masters in Creative Writing from Canterbury Christ Church. She is represented by Annette Green Authors’ Agency.

Author Links

Website

https://katherinemezzacappa.com/

Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/katherinemezzacappafiction

LinkedIn

https://www.linkedin.com/in/katherine-mezzacappa-09407815/

Instagram

https://www.instagram.com/katmezzacappa/

Bluesky

https://bsky.app/profile/katmezzacappa.bsky.social

Amazon Author Page

https://www.amazon.com/author/katherinemezzacappa

After Pearl by Stephen G. Eoannou April 14 - May 9, 2025 Virtual Book Tour!

2025-04-22T03:00:00.068-05:00

A Nicholas Bishop Mystery

1942. War rages in Europe. Pearl Harbor still smolders. And alcoholic private eye Nicholas Bishop wakes up on a hotel room floor with two slugs missing from his .38 revolver. The cops think he’s murdered lounge singer Pearl DuGaye, mobsters think he saw something he shouldn’t have, and Bishop remembers nothing…

Written in the spirit of classic noir, Eoannou adds his own unique voice and flair to the genre in this, the first action-packed outing of the Nicholas Bishop Mysteries…

Praise for After Pearl:

"...thanks to Stephen Eoannou, Buffalo has a hard-boiled detective to call its own. Say hello to the irrepressible Nicholas Bishop"
~ Tim Wendel, Author of Rebel Falls

AFTER PEARL Trailer:

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Noir
Published by: Santa Fe Writers Project
Publication Date: May 1, 2025
Number of Pages: 260
ISBN: 9781951631475 (ISBN10: 1951631471)
Series: A Nicholas Bishop Mystery, Book 1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Talking Leaves Books

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

Memories were slivered as he tried to recall when he had fired the gun:

Day drinking at the Kitty Kat.

The revolving bar at The Chez Ami.

Perfume.

A blonde.

A car ride.

No recollections about a one-eyed dog or gunshots.

He checked the .38 again. Who had he fired at? Had he hit them? Killed them?

The ringing phone was an ice pick to his ear. The only way to stop the pain was by answering.

“Hello,” Bishop said, his voice raspy.

“Coppers.”

When he reached the ground floor, he pushed open the fire exit and was blinded by sunshine reflected off the sidewalk and car fenders.

So, it’s afternoon, he thought. But was it Monday or Tuesday? Bishop raised his hand to shield his eyes. He didn’t see his Packard anywhere.

A woman got her purse snatched on Genesee Street.

There was a new girl, a real doll face, working at the Michigan Avenue brothel.

A big card game was going on above The New Genesee Restaurant.

“Benny, what do you know? What do you hear?”

“You see her, too?”

The junk man wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Have you seen my car, Benny? The Packard?”

“Your car?”

“The green convertible.”

Benny looked around the hotel alleyway and down Ellicott Street. “There’s no green car here, Bishop.”

“Keep your eyes open for it, all right? You know which one it is, don’t you? Let me know if you spot it.”

“You think someone stole your green car?”

“It’s probably parked in front of The Kitty Kat or The Chez. Hopefully, it’s not in a ditch somewhere.”

“Why would you leave your car in a ditch, Bishop?”

“For safekeeping,” Bishop said. “Say, you hear anything about a shooting or why the cops are looking for me?”

“I haven’t heard about those things.”

“Okay, maybe it’s nothing. But if you hear something or find my car, you come tell me. If I’m not here, leave a message with Corbett at the front desk.”

Benny saluted, his hand slicing the air as sharp as it had in 1918.

“Good man. Carry on,” Bishop said, and the junk man resumed rummaging through the garbage pails.

“Rats are always in alleys, but I found a weasel. You think you can outrun the law with that crippled foot, Bishop?”

“I’m not running, Lieutenant. I’m walking my dog.”

“That’s a dog? It’s in worse shape than you.”

“Me and Jake aren’t morning people.”

“Morning people? The day’s half done, Bishop.”

“Time flies.”

“Not in prison it don’t. Which is where you’re headed, draft dodger.”

Bishop winced and hoped it didn’t show. “Is sleeping late a crime?”

“No, but murder is. What do you know about Pearl DuGaye, smart guy?”

“Never heard of heard of her. Who is she?”

“A singer from The Chez Ami gone missing. We found her purse not far from here. Cleaned out, of course, except for one thing.”

“Trolley fare?”

“Your business card.” Darcy pulled out the card and read, “Bishop Investigations. Civil. Criminal. Missing Persons Located. Licensed and Bonded. Who the hell would bond a coward like you?”

Bishop took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. “When did this DuGaye woman go missing?”

“Saturday.”

“What’s today?”

“Thursday.”

Jesus.

“You ever seen my sister, Lieutenant? She’s a looker.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you. I wouldn’t put anything past a guy who sticks his foot in front of a moving taxi to keep out of the army. Were you working for DuGaye or just working her?”

“I honestly can’t say, Lieutenant,” Bishop said, and wondered if she was blonde.

“If she hired you to protect her, it looks like you did your usual swell job. Speaking of which, how’s business?”

“It pays the light bill.”

“Not at your office it don’t. Heard you had to close that down. Got rid of that good-looking secretary, too. Lucky Teddy Thurston must be rolling in his grave.”

“I work out of The Lafayette now. Teddy would be fine with that.”

“I hear you work for Joey Bones. Have been for a long time.”

Darcy took a step forward and jabbed a finger at Bishop. “Listen, you crippled shit. If this Pearl DuGaye shows up dead, I’m pinning it on you. I got a nice frame already picked out.”

“Pleasure talking to you, Lieutenant, but I’m late for an appointment.”

“With which bottle?”

“Say hello to Joey for me.”

“Watch out for taxis, weasel. Wouldn’t want you to have two crippled feet.”

***

Stephen G. Eoannou is the author of the award-winning short story collection Muscle Cars and the novels Rook, Yesteryear, and After Pearl. He holds an MFA from Queens University of Charlotte and an MA from Miami University. He has been awarded an Honor Certificate from The Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators and the Best Short Screenplay Award at the 36th Denver Film Festival. His latest novel, Yesteryear, was awarded the 2021 International Eyelands Award for Best Historical Novel, The Firebird Book Award for Biographical Fiction, and Shelf Unbound’s Notable Indy Books of 2023. He lives and writes in his hometown of Buffalo, New York, the setting and inspiration for much of his work.

Catch Up With Stephen G. Eoannou:

www.SGEoannou.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @seoannou
YouTube - @stepheneoannou341
X - @StephenGEoannou
Facebook - @steve.eoannou

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

Don't Miss Your Chance to Win! Enter Today!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Stephen G. Eoannou. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

Can't see the giveaway? Click Here!

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

Death at the Dogpark Neil S. Plakcy and Neil S. Plakcy Virtual Book Tour!

2025-04-22T03:00:00.052-05:00

About Death at the Dogpark

Death at the Dogpark
Cozy Mystery

Publisher ‏

‎ Samwise Books (March 13, 2025)

Paperback ‏

‎ 192 pages

ISBN-13 ‏

‎ 979-8230651178

Digital ASIN

‎ B0DY1RXVLB

Two gripping novellas explore murder, mystery, and mayhem at the local dog park in this unique collection from authors Neil S. Plakcy and Joanna Campbell Slan.

In "Dog's Punishment," Steve Levitan and his intuitive golden retriever Rochester uncover dark secrets when investigating the death of a controversial dog trainer. After Melissa Kawamoto is found dead at the local dog park, Steve must untangle a web of professional rivalries, stolen patents, and bitter grudges to catch a killer who turned a revolutionary training method into a deadly weapon.

In "Lamb Chopped," craft store owner Kiki Lowenstein's peaceful morning at the dog park turns horrific when her Great Dane Gracie digs up a severed hand. The discovery pulls Kiki into a disturbing investigation involving missing pets, corrupt officials, and a shadowy network trafficking shelter animals to research facilities. With help from her homicide detective husband, Kiki must expose the truth before more animals—and humans—become victims.

Both stories showcase the unbreakable bonds between humans and their canine companions while delivering clever mysteries filled with twists, turns, and compelling characters.

A must-read for fans of cozy mysteries and anyone who believes dogs have an uncanny ability to point us toward the truth.

About Neil S. Plakcy

I've wanted to be an author since I was about sixteen when a high school assignment on A Separate Peace showed me how powerful writing can be.

At the University of Pennsylvania I studied creative writing with Philip Roth and Carlos Fuentes; I went on to receive my MFA from Florida International University.

My first published novel was Mahu, about a Honolulu homicide detective dragged out of the closet during a tough case. I put a lot of myself into Kimo Kanapa'aka, the hero, and yet he’s very much his own character, and much better than I am! He has had a powerful hold on my imagination for many years. I love writing about him and hope to keep doing so for a long time. He’s also the source of my favorite reader question. A few years ago, someone emailed to ask if he was circumcised.

My first reaction was “Man, I’ll bet Stephen King doesn’t get questions like that.” But then, his are probably even weirder. I went online and did some research and discovered that at the time Kimo was born, hospital circumcisions were common. So there you go.

My path to publication was a long and checkered one, as is the case with many authors. My first published stories were magazine erotica, and I still like to keep my hand in (no pun intended) with that kind of writing. But for the most part now I write mystery and romance—all my books seem to have both those elements, though in different proportions.

I began writing the golden retriever mysteries because I spent so much time walking my golden, Samwise (yes, I’m a Tolkien geek). He had so many funny habits and such a strong personality that I just knew I had to write a book that featured a dog like him. (Fortunately, Sam had no habit of finding dead bodies.)

I live in Hollywood, Florida now, with my partner and our golden retrievers, Brody and Griffin.

Author Links

WEBSITE:                                         www.mahubooks.com
BLOG:                                              http://mahubooks.blogspot.com
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE:            http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001JP4EL6
FACEBOOK:                                     https://www.facebook.com/neil.plakcy
GOODREADS:                                  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/126217.Neil_Plakcy
PINTEREST:                                     http://pinterest.com/neilplakcy/boards/
TWITTER:                                        https://twitter.com/NeilPlakcy
BOOKBUB:                                      https://www.bookbub.com/profile/neil-s-plakcy
INSTAGRAM:                                  https://www.instagram.com/neilplakcy/
LINKED IN:                                      www.linkedin.com/in/neilplakcy
SUBSTACK                                       https://substack.com/@goldendad
THREADS:                                       https://www.threads.net/@neilplakcy
TIKTOK                                            https://www.tiktok.com/@neilplakcy
YouTube:                                        https://www.youtube.com/@plax1612
Amazon Author Profile               https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B001JP4EL6

Joanna is a New York Times Bestselling, USA Today Bestselling, and Amazon Bestselling author as well as a woman prone to frequent bursts of crafting frenzy, leaving her with burns from her hot glue gun and paint on her clothes. And the mess? Let’s not even go there.

Otherwise, Joanna’s a productive author with more than 80 written projects to her credit. Her non-fiction work includes how to books, a college textbook for public speakers, and books of personal essays (think Chicken Soup for the Soul).

Currently, she writes six fiction series: The Kiki Lowenstein Mystery Series (Agatha Award Finalist, contemporary, St. Louis setting, crafting), the Cara Mia Delgatto Mystery Series (contemporary, Florida setting, DIY, and recycling), the Jane Eyre Chronicles (Daphne du Maurier Award Winner, 1830s England, based on Charlotte Brontë’s classic), the Sherlock Holmes Fantasy Thrillers (late 1800s, based on Arthur Conan Doyle’s books), the Tai Chi Mystery Series (featuring a mature female amateur sleuth!) and the Friday Night Mystery Series (set in Decatur, IL in 1986 with a spunky female heroine.)

A former TV talk show host, college teacher, and public relations specialist, Joanna was one of the early Chicken Soup for the Soul contributors. She won a Silver Anvil for her work on the original FarmAid concert to benefit farmers.

In her ongoing quest never to see snow again, Joanna lives with her husband and their Havanese puppy, Jax, on an island off the coast of Florida.

Author Links
Newsletter sign up: https://joannacampbellslan.substack.com/publish/home
Street Team sign up: https://joannacampbellslan.com/
Website — https://joannacampbellslan.com/
Facebook — https://www.facebook.com/JoannaCampbellSlan
Facebook Group — https://www.facebook.com/groups/1602372550058785
Twitter — https://twitter.com/JoannaSlan
Amazon Author Page — https://amzn.to/3uF3h0g
Instagram — https://www.instagram.com/JCSlan/
Goodreads — https://www.goodreads.com/joannacampbellslan
Bookbub — https://www.bookbub.com/profile/joanna-campbell-slan
LinkedIn — https://www.linkedin.com/in/JoannaSlan
Pinterest — https://www.pinterest.com/joannaslan/

TOUR PARTICIPANTS

April 15 – Cozy Up With Kathy – CHARACTER GUEST POST

April 16 – Frugal Freelancer – CHARACTER GUEST POST

April 17 – Jody's Bookish Haven – SPOTLIGHT

April 18 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

April 19 – Boys' Mom Reads! – REVIEW

April 19 – Socrates Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

April 20 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

April 21 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT

April 22 – Celticlady’s Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

April 23 – Christy's Cozy Corners – CHARACTER GUEST POST

April 24 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT

April 25 – Ruff Drafts – SPOTLIGHT

April 26 – Deal Sharing Aunt – AUTHOR INTERVIEW – INDIVIDUAL GIVEAWAY

April 27 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

April 28 – Cassidy's Bookshelves – CHARACTER GUEST POST

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Have you signed up to be a Tour Host?
Click Here to Find Details and Sign Up Today!
Want to Book a Tour?
Click Here

The Night Menagerie by Kathryne Lentes New Release Blitz! The Pact of the Veil, Book One @ninestarpress #DiverseReads

2025-04-21T00:25:00.001-05:00

Title: The Night Menagerie

Series: The Pact of the Veil, Book One

Author: Kathryne Lentes

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 04/15/2025

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 25400

Genre

Paranormal Romance, Romance, paranormal, urban fantasy, lesbian, trans, shapeshifters, police detective, disappearance, role-playing game

Add to Goodreads

Description

Sah Williams is used to navigating the fantastical worlds of her own creation, but when her sister disappears, she is thrust into a world of magic and shapeshifters beyond anything she would have put to page. The only things she might be able to count on are a mysterious detective who she suspects has their own agenda and her novel’s main character’s voice whispering her advice.

Excerpt

The Night Menagerie
Kathryne Lentes © 2025
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

I woke to the sound of a person screaming. I sat bolt upright in bed and looked around, trying to remember where I was. There was no one else in the room, and I realized it had been me who had screamed. My heart beat like a jackhammer and I clutched the blanket to myself. Instinctually, I reached out to the right side of the bed, but there was no one there. There had not been anyone there for almost six months, and most nights, I had no problem remembering that. Robert had been a comfort in the darkness, able to quiet the nightmares I had. Nisha, my sister, had loved him for that. He could also make you laugh, no matter how hard times were. Everyone loved Robert—everyone but me, I guess, or at least I could not love him in the way he needed me to. I was most at home in solitude and did not really believe in just one person, one love, for the rest of a person’s life.

I reached out and ran my hands along my shoulder; the pain had been so intense in the dream when the beast had torn a chunk of flesh, I half expected to find blood on my fingers. I looked around at the plain white walls barely visible in the moonlight and took several long, slow breaths, forcing myself to calm down. Slowly, my heart began to beat slower, and my mind distanced itself from the nightmare and came back to reality. Okay, let’s start with the first question: where was I?

The room was small and sparsely furnished. I could hear the hustle and bustle of the street outside, even at this hour, and remembered this was my new apartment. I had not decided if I would stay in New York after my breakup. There were a lot of memories here, good and bad, and it was where Dominique lived. Dominique Fortune, an international thief and woman of mystery, is a character I created for my novels. Dominique had given me everything I had dreamed of when I was a kid. She lived in New York so, as soon as I could afford it, I moved here, even though I have always felt my real home is Saint Louis. Some people are method actors; I think I am a method author. I had to get into all the details and experiences of a character if the book was going to feel real when I was writing it.

I reached out for the notebook I kept by the side of my bed and tried to remember the dream that had shocked me awake. That notebook had served as a constant stream of inspiration, and I wrote down almost every one of my dreams, from the scary to the spicy. This dream was different somehow, and it seemed to be fading quickly; the only thing reverberating in my head was the howl of an animal and that searing moment of pain.

I involuntarily reached out again to the untouched right side of the bed. I knew I could have been using the whole bed, but even after six months, the right side was still Robert’s side. Not sure if the loss of the relationship had hit me so hard because of what it said about us or what it said about me, I lay back and closed my eyes to dispel thoughts of him and tried to return to sleep, but when I did the fear rose inside me like the beast was waiting for me in my dreams. I gave up and looked at my phone, but it was dead. The clock on the wall said 4:45 a.m. Well, it was too late for warm milk and cookies and too early for a shot of whiskey and a beer, so I figured I might as well go for a jaunt.

I got up out of bed and pulled out some sweats and a baggy T-shirt from the top drawer. Before I met Robert, my choice of outfits had been sexier, but now all I wanted was something that would not shred when I did a jump or tumble. Dominique had taken up parkour. Thus, so had I, joining lock picking, mastering security systems, combat driving, and generally being sneaky in a series of skills I had acquired to make the novels feel more real. Parkour or free running was all about trying to cover a distance from one point to the next in the most efficient way; usually that included flips, rolls, and jumps using any piece of available architecture to maintain your momentum.

“If you’re not moving forward, you’re moving backward.” As I said it out loud, I could hear my dad speaking. It was something he picked up in the service from some drill sergeant and passed on to us. I’m not sure what Dad would have said about my current career. His life had been built on service, and all I did was entertain.

I had grown up as an army brat traveling with my father. He went from infantry to the rangers, to OCS, and finally to a battalion command. It had been a long road and my only companion had been my twin sister Nisha. I allowed myself a smile that turned bittersweet. Whenever I thought of my sister, my thoughts naturally went to our mother. She had died in childbirth, and the only thing we had to remember her by was our names, Nisha and Sah; they were small pieces of her—well, our—Nepal ancestry. My parents had met when my dad had been serving in East Asia, and from all the stories he told, it had been true love at first sight. After she had died, he refused to be apart from us except when he was deployed in a forward position. He even put special effort into allowing us to develop our own identities and never dressed us the same or pigeonholed us into being like each other, except when it came naturally. Nisha was more of a girly girl and loved fancy clothes, while I was more of a tomboy and could usually be found halfway up a tree or on a rooftop.

He also decided at an early age to teach us how to take care of ourselves. We both learned general hand-to-hand combat, but he also gave each of us specialized instruction. Nisha was trained on how to handle knives and blades of assorted sizes, while I was taught how to shoot. When I was young, it had always seemed strange that my father had split things up between us, with him constantly trying for us to be a family, but I soon realized that it provided time for each of us to be with him individually. Also, it meant any of the boys who had tried to go too far in high school had an unpleasant surprise waiting for them.

We did have one thing that united us: no matter where we went, we loved stories. It started when we would constantly ask our father to tell the story of how he and our mother had met and their courtship. Then, when Dad was deployed, we would tell each other those stories, and it soon grew into us creating new stories all our own. We would while away the hours working on huge, convoluted sagas filled with action and romance. Nisha would come up with a grandiose flight of fantasy, and I would populate it with the day-to-day details that would make the story believable.

I was still focused on my memories to get rid of the aftereffects of the nightmare when I climbed out onto the fire escape. A moment later, I was on top of the building and sprinting across the heights, leaping, and rolling from one elevated position to another, hopefully looking like a cross between Jackie Chan and Spider-Man.

I had been a gymnast in high school, but this was so much more intense, and after a couple of months in the gym, I was hooked. I had replaced my daily jog with a run over the rooftops in my neighborhood. As I sped through the city, I saw a huge divide looming in front of me. The gap between the buildings was large, but nothing I had not done with pads on the floor. I dug my heels in and propelled myself faster and faster, but as I got closer, a little voice spoke up inside my head.

You’re not Dominique. That is a long way down. You can’t do this.

Contrary to what most people believed, being too gutsy was not the greatest danger to a free runner; the biggest threat was hesitation. The moment you were not confident, a person got hurt, and suddenly, my attention was diverted.

I panicked and slammed on the brakes, breaking into a slide. My feet kept moving on the gravel.

A moment later, I felt air under me. I started to tumble downwards. As I fell, I saw out of the corner of my eye a clothesline between the buildings. I had no thoughts, just a blind instinct to reach out my hands. I grabbed the rope, the impact causing the line to cut into my fingers, but I held on; for one long moment, my descent was stopped. I took a deep breath as I hung there, then the hook holding the rope to the far building pulled out of the wall. I swung backward, desperately keeping a grip on the rope, and slammed into the wall. The impact smacked the wind out of me, and I tumbled onto the fire escape.

“What the fuck are you doing out there?” A guy looked at me with a menacing glare and turned back to cooking his breakfast.

You gotta love Brooklyn. If I did this in Hell’s Kitchen, I would probably get some yuppie calling the cops. Brooklyn, a little profanity and everything is forgotten. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the protest of my body, and swiftly went down the fire escape to the street before the person I woke up decided I was a burglar.

I limped my way back to my apartment. As I walked in, I grabbed my mail. There was a package wrapped in brown paper from my sister in there. I threw the rest of the mail on the nearby counter and ripped into the packaging. It was a thick book with a note stuck to the front.

Hey, sis, I’ve been playing this new game and thought you might like it. I know you don’t normally do the DND thing, but you might find the world-building cool. Let me know what you think.

Hmm.

@ninestarpress

#bookaddiction #bookshelf #mustread #instabook #fortheloveofbooks #bookrecs #newbook #readersofinsta #tbrpile #whattoread #newbook #weekendreads #romance #paranormal #urbanfantasy

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Kathryne Lentes has been writing stories as long as she could hold a pen in her hand. She is a transwoman who, when not working on her own projects, operates Paper Phoenix Ink, a blog showcasing queer creators. She is currently living in Saint Louis with her wife, two cats, and a pile of science fiction and fantasy books.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Changing Lanes A Roxy Adams Mystery Book 1 by Claire Yezbak Fadden Book Tour! @SilverDaggerBookTours #cozymystery #mysterybooks #romanticsuspense #murdermystery #romancebooks #humorousbooks #suspensebooks #ChangingLanes #RxyAdamsMystery @claireflaire @claireyezbakfadden #books #readers #reading #booklovers #BookTour #Giveaway #bookbuzz #bookboost #bookrecommendations #BookBlogger #Bookstagram #bookish #bookclub #MustRead @SilverDaggerBookTours #Writersofinstagram #AmReading #BookPromo #AuthorPromo #writingcommunity #readerscommunity #cozymystery #mysterybooks #romanticsuspense #murdermystery #romancebooks #humorousbooks #suspensebooks #ChangingLanes #RxyAdamsMystery @claireflaire @claireyezbakfadden #books #readers #reading #booklovers #BookTour #Giveaway #bookbuzz #bookboost #bookrecommendations #BookBlogger #Bookstagram #bookish #bookclub #MustRead @SilverDaggerBookTours #Writersofinstagram #AmReading #BookPromo #AuthorPromo #writingcommunity #readerscommunity

2025-04-18T04:30:00.006-05:00

For fifty-something Roxy Adams, the days are drenched in sunshine and a passion for her boyfriend, Sam Reyes.

That is until he turns up dead in the trunk of Roxy's limo and she's arrested for his murder.

Changing Lanes

A Roxy Adams Mystery Book 1

by Claire Yezbak Fadden

Genre

Humorous Cozy Mystery, Romantic Suspense

For fifty-something Roxy Adams, life is simple and beautiful. Her days are drenched in southern California sunshine and passion for Sam Reyes, the man she loves and shares a business with.

When Sam vanishes with their savings, leaving only a note behind, Roxy is faced with a harsh reality. Broke and confused, she learns they never owned the business. The actual owner will let her keep her job if she provides him with benefits.

Convinced there’s no knight in shining armor riding to her rescue, Roxy dusts off her chauffeur’s hat and returns to the career she trailblazed twenty years earlier.

With a steady income, new friends, and the possibility of romance, joy slowly replaces insecurity. Foxy Roxy is back. Life is wonderful and exciting once again. Until Sam turns up dead in the trunk of her limo. And Roxy is arrested for his murder.

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo

* Smashwords * Bookbub * Goodreads

Pennsylvania-native Claire Yezbak Fadden lives in Orange County, California with her husband and two spoiled dogs. She spends her spare time playing with her four grandchildren and immersing herself in the words of other authors.

Website * Facebook * X * Instagram

* Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

#cozymystery #mysterybooks #romanticsuspense #murdermystery #romancebooks #humorousbooks #suspensebooks

#books #readers #reading #booklovers #BookTour #Giveaway #bookbuzz #bookboost #bookrecommendations #BookBlogger #Bookstagram #bookish #bookclub #MustRead s #Writersofinstagram #AmReading #BookPromo #AuthorPromo #writingcommunity #readerscommunity

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a $20 Amazon giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Organ Broker by Deven Greene Book Tour! @SilverDaggerBookTours #SharkyAndTheJewel #TheDeliverers @TheDeliverers

2025-04-18T03:30:00.046-05:00

A devoted wife and mother faces the unimaginable as her life crumbles.

Crystal Rigler seems to have a perfect marriage. Derek, her handsome and charismatic husband, and their adult daughter, Cordelia, are her whole world. In addition to her already busy life, Crystal supports the volunteer organization she and Derek started: STOP (Stop Transplants of Organs from Prisoners).

STOP aims to end a new government policy of harvesting organs from executed prisoners. They learn that these organs are not distributed by the national transplant list, established to allocate organs fairly. Instead, a shadowy figure known as Broker Al pulls the strings. He expedites the execution of young and healthy prisoners and sells their organs at a high price to the rich and well-connected.

After Crystal learns a disturbing secret, events are set in motion that will potentially dismantle STOP, change her life, and cost her everything. Unless she is willing to do the unthinkable…

Praise for The Organ Broker:

"The Organ Broker by Deven Greene was intricate and captivated my attention from the first page. The story was fast-paced with not a single dull moment."
~ Readers' Favorite

"If you enjoy moral dilemmas, complex characters, and a plot that feels uncomfortably plausible, this book will leave you thinking long after the ending."
~ Literary Titan

"...electrifyingly intense... Introspective and entertaining, The Organ Broker navigates the delicate balance between principles and priorities."
~ Indies Today

"The Organ Broker … teeters between thriller, novel, a story of medical and social challenge, and more. It stands out from others about organ harvesting simply because it evolves a complex plot that engages characters and readers in a moral and ethical dance spiced with intrigue and the unexpected."
~ D. Donovan, Sr. Reviewer, Midwest Book Review

THE ORGAN BROKER Trailer:

Book Details:

Genre: Psychological Suspense
Published by: Panthera Publishing
Publication Date: April 2025
Number of Pages: 321
ISBN: 9781964620060 (ISBN10: 1964620066)
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Google Books | Apple Books | Kobo | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

The East Texas sun was hotter than usual for September, the few clouds high above providing no relief. A half-hour earlier, overcome by heat and exhaustion, Crystal had let her sign reading “Save Kwami” slip to the ground. Standing near the front of the crowd, Crystal pushed up the visor on her baseball cap to get a better look at her surroundings. She was pleased with the impressive turnout which she estimated to be close to one thousand people. It was the largest they’d ever had. Most of the other protestors continue to hold their placards high, displaying myriad slogans such as “Justice for Kwami,” “Let Kwami Live,” “Impeach Gov. Percy,” and the most popular, “STOP.” She took a deep breath and lifted her sign again, fighting the pain in her fingers as she held it as high as she could.

The crowd of protestors was comprised of a cross-section of the community— young, old, couples, families, Black, White, Hispanic, and Asian. A colorful array of baseball caps, bucket hats, visors, straw hats, and cowboy hats protected most of the heads from the constant flood of the sun’s rays.

The makeshift podium and public address system were rudimentary, and there was the usual milling around often seen in large gatherings, but the audience, for the most part, was paying attention to the pudgy young man with a man bun speaking to them. At times, the crowd burst out in synchronous claps and hoots of approval. The assembly was peaceful, with only a few skirmishes breaking out at the edges where police stood watch.

Still thirsty after having finished her bottle of water, Crystal let her mind wander as the speaker droned on about the immorality of what was about to take place. Her clothes clung to her sweaty body, and despite wearing sunglasses with polarized lenses, the bright sun hurt her eyes. Looking down, she swatted away a bug that landed on her arm. Uncomfortable and impatient, she was eagerly awaiting the next speaker.

Finally, the man at the podium looked up and announced, “And now, the man you’ve all been waiting to hear, the leader of our organization, Mr. Derek Rigler.”

The mood of the crowd changed, and participants started chanting “STOP” in unison as they raised and lowered their signs. A tall, muscular man with tan skin and wavy blond hair, took to the stage next to the previous speaker and scanned the crowd with his magnetic blue eyes. Crystal looked up and smiled. His handsome, chiseled features gave him the look of a confident leader. Although he was nearly fifty years old, he looked at least ten years younger. He hasn’t lost the ability to attract attention whenever he enters a room.

Derek took his place on the podium and held out his arms as if to give a benediction. After almost a full minute of roaring applause, he raised and lowered his hands several times to quiet the crowd.

Crystal looked around, energized by the enthusiasm bubbling over. She noted more press vans set up around the perimeter than in the previous protest. Their organization, STOP, was gaining traction.

She wondered if Derek had picked her out of the crowd. If she were taller, he’d probably see her—she wasn’t far from the front—but she imagined her five-foot two-inch frame made her visage difficult to identify in the sea of people. From what she could glean, Derek hadn’t spotted her. After all, she was just another brunette under a baseball cap, surrounded by many others. Even so, Crystal smiled widely, wondering if anyone nearby recognized her. After all, she was notable as Derek’s wife and the mother of his child, Cordelia.

As Derek started his familiar diatribe against the Texas death penalty laws, Crystal tried to lock eyes with him, but his eyes never found her. Instead, he focused on members of the audience near and far, concentrating his gaze on one person for several seconds before moving on to the next pair of waiting eyes.

Crystal recognized the usual arguments against the event that was scheduled to take place momentarily—the uneven death penalty sentencing, the ugliness of exacting revenge, and the irreversibility of the punishment once meted out. The speech was powerful, and she agreed with everything Derek said. She could recite the words by heart, not only because she had heard them during Derek’s practice sessions, but because she had written them herself. Every time the crowd reacted with hollers and claps, she felt taller, each breath a bit more satisfying. She’d been to over six of these rallies in the past year, each protesting the execution of a prisoner found guilty of a crime deemed fitting for capital punishment.

The death penalty had never sat well with Crystal, but over the past two years, the practice had escalated, with four more executions scheduled over the next six months in Texas alone. Not only was the ultimate punishment meted out more often, but the evidence leading to convictions was frequently less convincing. She’d made up her mind to do something to stop the injustice and had established STOP almost a year earlier. A small, grass-roots collection of like-minded people, it was taking hold, thanks to her speech writing, community outreach, and organizational skills, bolstered by her husband’s charisma. He was the face of the organization.

Derek’s address was interrupted by a loud commotion as the officers stationed around the perimeter began to forcefully clear a path through the protestors to the entryway of the large building looming behind the speaker. Despite shouting and resistance from the crowd, with the most passionate demonstrators being handcuffed and dragged away, the police were able to open a wide berth.

“We are nearing the time,” Derek shouted above the commotion, “the time when our brother Kwami will be taken from us in an act that can only be described as state-sponsored murder. Let all those who have participated in this mockery of justice one day pay for their crimes, and let all those who directly benefit from this violent act realize the wrong they have participated in.”

A police transport moved through the clearing in the crowd as demonstrators chanted “Kwami, Kwami” in unison. Although the windows of the vehicle were covered, all knew who was inside—Kwami McKinney, sentenced to be executed that day. The van didn’t stop until it was a mere five feet from the door to the building. A massive construction of cement and glass six stories high, the structure dwarfed the trees and other buildings nearby. Derek was silent as he turned to watch the Black prisoner, his head shaved, exit the van's side door.

Dressed in an orange jumpsuit accessorized with ankle and wrist shackles, Kwami was escorted by two armed guards, each holding onto one of his arms. Two more prison officers took up the rear. As the party of five walked towards the glass doors of the building, a Black woman around fifty years old ran towards them screaming. She was forcibly stopped by police, who grabbed onto her arms long before she could interfere.

Everyone there knew the woman was Sally McKinney, Kwami’s mother. She yelled and cried hysterically, flailing against those restraining her as her son was led through the automated doors that opened before him and the guards. They disappeared inside the structure as the glass doors shut.

People in the crowd yelled and cried, drowning out Ms. McKinney's wails. Frustrated tears filled Crystal’s eyes; their protest had done nothing to dissuade the authorities from carrying out their sentence. She hadn’t expected the proceedings to be halted, but held onto a glimmer of hope until now, irrational as it was.

She looked to Derek for comfort, hoping they might finally lock gazes and convey their sadness to each other, but Crystal’s thoughts were interrupted by a female acquaintance. “Fantastic speech,” the woman said.

“I can’t disagree,” Crystal answered, buoyed momentarily by the woman’s words.

“You must be very proud, being his wife. He’s so handsome, and brilliant to boot. You two are the perfect couple. I’d sure like to be a fly on the wall at your dinner table to hear about all his great ideas.”

The words stung slightly, as Crystal chuckled politely. She was accustomed to being thought of as a mere appendage of her charismatic husband, but, she’d tried to convince herself that a successful protest, with Derek delivering a resounding speech, was all that was important. She didn’t need the admiration of others like he did. “Our dinners aren’t as interesting as you might think. Mostly, we talk about how we’re going to pay our bills.”

Members of the press, who until now had been scattered amongst the protestors while taking notes and silently recording videos, were now talking and interviewing people on camera. The crowd thinned, but Crystal didn’t want to leave. She’d have liked to remain until she knew Kwami had taken his last breath, but that moment was hours away.

She listened as a nearby male telecaster spoke into a camera. “Emotions are again high as another execution is about to take place. While many people feel that the crimes Kwami McKinney was convicted of, armed robbery and hostage-taking, justify the death sentence, some feel the punishment is too severe for the crimes the prisoner was convicted of. Still others believe he is innocent of the charges against him.”

The reporter turned to a middle-aged female bystander and asked, “What do you think of today’s events? Do you think justice is being carried out today?” After posing the question, he shoved the microphone close to the woman’s mouth.

“This is a travesty of justice,” she answered. “The real criminal was wearing a ski mask during the robbery, and escaped capture immediately following the crime. That was made clear during the trial. We also learned that Mr. McKinney was picked out in a lineup by two unreliable witnesses days later. There was a boatload of evidence that the so-called witnesses had drug charges against them dropped shortly after identifying Mr. McKinney. What kind of justice is that?”

The telecaster quickly turned to the camera and continued his reporting. “Despite the controversy, Kwami McKinney is still scheduled to be executed here and now at New Lake Hospital. While we are happy for the families of the six unnamed individuals who will be the recipients of much-needed organs, many are questioning the legality and morality of what is now becoming a common method of organ procurement. The objections are being led by the organization STOP, which stands for Stop Transplants of Organs from Prisoners.”

***

Deven Greene lives in Northern California, where she enjoys writing fiction, most of which involves science or medicine. She has degrees in biochemistry (PhD) and medicine (MD), and practiced pathology for over twenty years.

She has previously published the The Erica Rosen MD Trilogy (Unnatural, Unwitting, and Unforeseen), and Ties That Kill, as well as several short stories.

Catch Up With Deven Greene:

#middlegradebooks #fantasybooks #adventurebooks #teenbooks #yafantasy #MGFantasy #epicfantasybooks #teenfantasybooks #SharkyAndTheJewel #TheDeliverers @TheDeliverers #books #readers #reading #booklovers #BookTour #Giveaway #bookbuzz #bookboost #bookrecommendations #BookBlogger #Bookstagram #bookish #bookclub #MustRead #writingcommunity #readerscommunity

www.DevenGreene.com
Subscribe to Deven's Blog
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub @Deven_G1
Facebook @DevenGreeneFiction

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

Don't Miss Your Chance to Win! Enter Today!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Deven Greene. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

Can't see the giveaway? Click Here!

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

Behind the Scenes: A Most Unusual Princess Book 1 of the “Royal Desires” Series By Kelli A. Wilkins!

2025-04-16T05:30:00.001-05:00

Behind the Scenes: A Most Unusual Princess

Book 1 of the “Royal Desires” Series

By Kelli A. Wilkins

www.KelliWilkins.com

This “Behind the Scenes” blog is part of a series examining my romance novels. In each blog, I’ll talk about why I wrote the book, share my thoughts on the plot and/or characters, and reveal what I loved most (or least) about writing the book. Warning: Blogs may contain spoilers.

If you missed any blog in this series, you can catch up here: https://www.kelliwilkins.com/blog

Hi everyone,

Many years ago I wrote A Most Unusual Princess for the Amber Quill Press “Amber Heat” romance contest. My premise was simple: a headstrong, spoiled princess has to find a husband. Her father has arranged for her to meet a lot of eligible bachelors while being watched over by her new bodyguard, Dalton. (Basically, it’s a medieval style of speed dating.)

Elara is an independent young woman and insists she doesn’t need a husband. But what she’s really saying is she doesn’t want to be controlled by a man. She wants to make her own decisions in life and refuses to allow anyone to tell her what to do. She is an unusual woman for her time—smart, quick-thinking, and knows what she wants. Or at least she thinks she does... then Dalton enters her life.

Dalton and Elara’s first meet is anything but typical. On his way to the palace, Dalton comes across a young lady bathing herself in a pond... except she’s not exactly bathing. Dalton knows he shouldn’t watch, but he is captivated by the beautiful free-spirited woman. When Elara discovers she is being spied on, she gives Dalton hell and tries to slap him—but he’s not bothered by her actions. In fact, he finds her amusing... and enchanting.

Later, things really heat up when Dalton learns he has been assigned to watch over Elara while she courts suitors. He is not allowed to leave her side and decides to make a pest of himself. At first, Elara resents Dalton for being around her all the time, but over the course of the story, they realize how compatible they are. Along the way they also discover how easy it is to share a few forbidden passionate encounters.

When I wrote the novella, I wasn’t exactly sure what defined erotica, so I decided to spice things up right on the first page. (Believe it or not, erotica and erotic romances were a new subgenre at the time.) I made sure to keep the romantic/sexual tension between Dalton and Elara building throughout the story.

One of the things I liked best about writing the book was coming up with the different situations for Dalton and Elara to bond over. Each encounter between them (whether they are arguing or teasing each other) helps build their relationship and show how well-matched they really are.

Dalton is unmoved by Elara’s tantrums and moodiness and has the ability to settle her down when she gets riled up. (Her calls her “little princess” to annoy her. She insults him by saying he’s “just a bodyguard” to her.)

Dalton isn’t intimated by Elara when she tries to pull rank on him; instead, he finds it entertaining. The more Elara insists she doesn’t want a husband, the more she finds herself falling for Dalton. The longer Dalton stays with Elara, the more he realizes he doesn’t want to lose her to anyone else. He goes out of his way to protect her and even fights for her honor—with mixed results.

When I wrote this novella, I had no idea it would be the first book in a trilogy (collectively the three books are known as the Royal Desires series). Readers fell in love with the characters and wanted more. Elara and Dalton were fun characters to write for, and I wanted to explore more of their relationship and give them new erotic adventures. So I wrote a sequel, A Most Intriguing Temptation. (I’ll talk more about that book in another blog.) Although the story is part of a series, it stands alone as an individual read.

A Most Unusual Princess is still one of my favorite romances for many reasons. I love the connection and banter between Dalton and Elara. It’s a lighthearted, humorous, and sexy story. And it’s anything but boring.

I hope you will read the book and fall in love with Elara and Dalton as much as I did. Here is the summary and links:

A Most Unusual Princess

Princess Elara needs to find a royal husband, but claims that no man can satisfy her. Her father hires Dalton, a special guard, to watch over her while she’s courting suitors. Dalton finds her unusual behaviors charming—and enthralling.

Dalton’s aloof manner intrigues Elara, and despite their differences, they share tender moments and intimate nighttime encounters. Elara is heartbroken when her father chooses a “proper” husband for her—until she meets the mystery man.

The Royal Desires series is available on Amazon & other platforms. Catch this hot historical/fantasy trilogy from the start:

Book 1: A Most Unusual Princess:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01CBX43D8

All other platforms: https://books2read.com/u/me00L9

Read reviews here: https://www.kelliwilkins.com/a-most-unusual-princess

Then Read Book 2: A Most Intriguing Temptation:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01D8P8604

All other platforms: https://books2read.com/u/47kkvj

Read reviews here: https://www.kelliwilkins.com/a-most-intriguing-temptation

Don’t Miss Book 3: A Most Unfortunate Prince:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Most-Unfortunate-Prince-Historical-Fantasy-ebook/dp/B01DMBYJ6E

All other platforms: https://books2read.com/u/3yPPM6

Read reviews here: https://www.kelliwilkins.com/a-most-unfortunate-prince

I hope you enjoyed this “Behind the Scenes” look at the making of this romance.

I welcome questions and comments from readers and other authors. Contact me via the form on my site or on social media.

Happy Reading,

Kelli A. Wilkins

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kelli A. Wilkins is an award-winning author who has published more than 100 short stories, 24 romance novels, and 8 mystery/horror ebooks. Her romances span many genres and settings, and she likes to scare readers with her horror and mystery stories.

Her twenty-fourth romance, For Love’s Sake, an epic historical/fantasy romantic adventure, was published in January 2025.

In August 2024, she released Surreal Escapes, a collection of 7 speculative/spooky stories. Anything can—and does—happen in this anthology.

Kelli also released her fourth gay romance, A Thousand Summer Secrets, in 2024. This tender contemporary romance takes place over a summer weekend, where two friends reconnect while seeking love and acceptance.

She published The Route 9 Killer, a mystery/thriller set in Central NJ, in 2023.

Follow Kelli on her Facebook author page

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKelliWilkins

and visit her website/blog www.KelliWilkins.com for a

full title list and social media links.

Cowboy Watch The Watchers Book 1 by Petie McCarty Book Tour! @SilverDaggerBookTours #CowboyWatch @petiemccarty

2025-04-15T04:30:00.123-05:00

Someone—or something—wants Kellen out of town . .

Kellen Brand’s inheritance comes as a monumental shock—

a rundown farm she doesn’t want and one paroled Watcher all her own.

Cowboy Watch

The Watchers Book 1

by Petie McCarty

Genre

Paranormal Small

Town Romantic Suspense

The Watchers Series—

Fallen angels cast out of heaven by the archangel Michael for coercing with Satan to gain control. Some of these turncoats—duped late in the game by Satan's lies—doubled back to seek redemption for their unwitting betrayal. Offered parole in exchange for penance, these Watchers are given the toughest bodyguard missions with little leeway for success.
One last chance.
These are their stories . . .

Someone—or something—wants Kellen out of town . . .

Kellen Brand's inheritance comes as a monumental shock—a rundown farm she doesn't want and one paroled Watcher all her own. Kellen's eccentric mother believed Watchers to be fallen angels seeking penance by guarding individuals who had lost their way. Seriously? A Watcher?
Only her mother . . .

Since Kellen vows no sane woman would choose to live in Riverside, she's on a mission to dump the old farm fast and to the first buyer who comes along. Unfortunately for her, the only buyer is a resort developer, spurned by a townful of objectors and one handsome cowboy—her neighbor, Luke Thornton. Luke must block Kellen's farm sale or risk exposure of his own family's secrets. He can ill afford his immediate and compelling attraction to his new neighbor.

Someone is watching Kellen, but not who she thinks. Someone deadly and intent on scaring her out of town. Or worse. Luke has a hellish choice to make—step in and rescue Kellen from her threats, or to protect his family, stand by and watch . . .

**On Sale for Only $1.99 for a limited time!**

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

Silver Dagger Tour Excerpt #1:

“Vera tells me she told you about the haunted cemetery,” Gerald called to her, as the front door jingled again.

“She did,” Kellen called back and placed a few candles in her basket.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” said a familiar voice from behind her.

If it was possible for a voice to leer, this one did. She slowly turned. “I don’t need any protection, Sheriff.”

Reilly maneuvered way too close for her liking and cornered her between the last two rows of shelves. “You never know what to expect here in West Virginia, right?” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and his rat eyes glittered like two black aggies.

A wave of apprehension chilled her skin. The evil eyes of the mean boy who threw dirt clods had changed to the leering eyes of a much larger and quite fearsome man. The mean boy was now the sheriff. If he threw dirt clods, who would she call?

He edged closer.

She stepped back and bumped into the last row of shelves. She felt just like the jackrabbit her dog once cornered in the barn.

“I can look out for you while you’re here, Kellen. Special-like.”

The way he said her name sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel the lower shelf jabbing into the back of her calves.

He took one more step. His sour breath invaded her space and she wanted to gag. Like David, she let this man get to her.

“Real special.”

She could hear Gerald talking to a customer. No help there.

Reilly reached a hand toward her face, and a fist snagged the sheriff’s wrist.

“She doesn’t need any protection,” a deep voice growled. “She has plenty.”

Luke Thornton had an iron grip on Reilly’s wrist, his knuckles white with the effort. Reilly tried to glare him into submission, but the steel-like glint in Thornton’s eyes forced the sheriff to blink. Thornton tossed off the wrist but stood his ground, edging a shoulder between Kellen and her assailant. For a brief instant, Kellen forgot how maddening Thornton was. She wanted to grab him and kiss him for saving her from the foul-breathed sheriff.

“Watch yourself, Thornton,” Reilly growled. “I run this county.”

“Not all of it, you don’t.”

Kellen took deep breaths to slow her racing heart. She blinked, and the sheriff was gone. Luke stood so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body, and that certainly didn’t quiet her pulse. She stared into his dark-chocolate eyes and held on to the breath she’d been so desperate to suck down only moments before.

“Are you all right?”

Was that worry in his eyes? For her? Oh, good heavens—she was still staring. He was asking her something. What was it? Oh yeah, was she all right?

She nodded.

Words were too much at the moment. Too many emotions. Panic at Reilly accosting her again after all these years and then discovering her knight in shining armor. Luke’s focused gaze had her heart fluttering and from more than fear. She couldn’t manage to release the air in her lungs.

Silver Dagger Tour Excerpt #2:

On the south side of town, Luke gave Windsor a little nudge to speed him up since Grandfather’s property was close. Horse and rider slowed to make the turn at Laden Mill Road, and Luke gazed out over the open pasture before he gave Windsor his head again. That grassy pasture belonged to him now and looked in desperate need of a good mowing. If he didn’t get someone to cut it soon, he or Hank would have to do it, and neither of them had the time. He reined in Windsor at the entrance drive and scanned the barn and then the house.

Stunned, he gaped at the old farmhouse. Someone stood on the front porch and peeked in his windows—a red-haired someone. He gave Windsor a poke with his heels, and the horse leaped forward in response. Galloping down the entrance drive, Luke reined in hard at the bottom step and startled his trespasser.

“And you are on my front porch because?” he barked while holding the skittish stallion in place. Windsor had had his head, and he wanted it again.

Kellen’s eyes went wide with guilt. “I was just—”

“Snooping?” Windsor sidestepped to the right, forcing Luke to twist around in his saddle to hold eye contact.

She stiffened and her brilliant green eyes flashed with temper. “I was not! You . . .You . . .” She stamped her foot.

“Owner?” he retorted, unwilling to let her off the hook for an instant. Not when he had her good and cornered. Thank God, Windsor kept him so busy he didn’t ogle her like a schoolboy.

“No, I was going to say—”

The horse reared and pawed the air, effectively cutting her off. Of course, Luke’s little heel nudge and rein tug instigated the ostentatious display. He swiftly turned the horse back around so he could face her.

“So, why are you here? On my front porch. Peeking in my windows.”

She gave him a glare fit for the devil. “I was not peeking. I was trying to see if anyone was home.”

He waited.

Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t want anything.” She hesitated. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Well, if you didn’t want anything and you weren’t doing anything . . .” He eased the powerful horse right up next to her though she stood her ground on the bottom step. “. . .then you must need a ride home.”

He snatched her off the step before she could answer and counted on the little spitfire having the presence of mind to swing her leg over the horse when Windsor took off. She didn’t disappoint him. The stallion streaked for the break in the tree line, and she clung to him like a tick on a coon dog. The feel of her arms around his waist had his heart rate racing like Windsor’s rhythmic gait once again. Through the tree break and across her unplowed fields, they galloped.

He should slow his horse on the uneven ground. He really should. But if he did, Kellen would loosen her death grip on him.

The sure-footed stallion galloped across the fields as though he knew right where Luke was headed. He waited to the last possible second to rein in the black horse at Kellen’s front steps, then reached around at the same time to slide her off Windsor’s back. Once her feet touched the ground with her balance assured, he tapped his heels to the stallion and cantered back across the fields. He didn’t dare risk a backward glance and spoil his memory of the ride with another hard glare from the beauty.

Silver Dagger Tour Excerpt #3:

Slowing near the treeline to get her bearings, Kellen focused on a spot where the bank jutted out over the water. Climbing out of the car, she scanned the shoreline. To her right, the slope flattened out and provided easy access to the water. The Tanawoc River maintained a good current, sending soggy leaves and debris speeding past in its flow. Grassy hills rolled back from the opposite riverbank, and she wondered if the Clandestine Mining Company still owned all that property.

A familiar aroma wafted up from the river, a combination of humus, plant material, microscopic plankton, and a touch of fish. Unable to stop the smile slowly stretching across her face, she untied her sneakers, rolled up her jeans, and slipped into the icy water. She immediately gasped and felt her smile deepen to a grin. Remaining in the soothing current for a long time, she absorbed her surroundings as trout darted in and around the submerged rocks to grab their plankton lunch.

A horse suddenly whickered behind her, followed by the telltale creak of a saddle. Too close for comfort. The back of her neck prickled. Ankle deep in the water, she couldn’t make a decent sprint for the car, and Kellen regretted her impulse to visit this deserted stretch of riverbank.

Easing around, she spied the towering silhouette of a powerfully built man astride a huge black stallion no more than ten yards away. The rider’s face lay shadowed beneath a wide-brimmed Stetson. The cowboy made an impressive and, at this moment, intimidating sight—a throwback from the frontier days of the Wild West.

The horse whickered again and sidestepped away from the edge of the embankment, forcing the cowboy to twist around to keep her in sight. She could feel his dark eyes scanning every inch of her. The intensity in his gaze raised goose bumps on her arms, and a tiny shiver edged up her spine. Trapped here along the edge of the river, she felt vulnerable yet strangely unafraid. Would he come any closer?

A horn blared up on the highway, and she jumped with a yelp. The big horse reared at the sound of her cry, and Kellen caught a brief glimpse of the cowboy’s dark eyes, eyes that could stare right through to a girl’s soul. She scrunched her own eyes shut and forced herself to breathe. When she opened them, the rider was gone.

Had she imagined him? Another mild shiver rifled up her spine. No, the fearsome rider was definitely real.

Scrambling up the embankment, she scanned the twisting riverside lane in both directions, but the cowboy had vanished. A wave of inexplicable disappointment caught her unawares, but she shook it off. She had no business sharing this deserted stretch of riverbank with a complete stranger. Better if she climbed back in her car and drove through Riverside. Eight blocks wouldn’t take long to see.

Petie spent a large part of her career working at Walt Disney World—"The Most Magical Place on Earth"—where she enjoyed working in the land of fairy tales by day and creating her own romantic fairy tales by night, including her new series, The Cinderella Romances. She eventually said good-bye to her "day" job to write her stories full-time.

These days Petie spends her time writing new Cinderella series tales, her new The Watchers series, sequels to her regency time-travel series, Lords in Time, and more contemporary romance standalones to go along with her two previous releases—Any Fin For Love and Ambush in the Everglades.

Petie shares her home on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee with her horticulturist husband and an opinionated Nanday conure named Sassy who will make a cameo appearance in the upcoming Book 2 of The Watchers series, Christmas Watch.

Website * Facebook * X * Instagram

* Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

#smalltownromance #romanticsuspense #romancebooks #romancelovers #paranormalbooks #paranormalromance #OnSale #books #booklovers #BookTour #Giveaway #bookboost #bookrecommendations #Bookstagram #MustRead #Writersofinstagram #AmReading #BookPromo #AuthorPromo

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Enter to win either an Autographed copy of Any Fin for Love by Petie McCarty (US only)

or a $20 Amazon giftcard (WW) – 1 winner each!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sanguine Shadows by Will Okati New Release Blitz!

2025-04-15T04:00:00.013-05:00

Title: Sanguine Shadows

Author: Will Okati

Cover Art: Marteeka Karland

Genres: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Wildest West

Themes: Age Gap (Older Man), LGBTQ+ Gay, Vampires

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 50

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

This is where everything changes.

Darce has done his best to live off the radar as one of the bloodkind, keeping himself separate from the company of other vampires and the danger they court. The cowboy might be lonely in his solitude, but he's safe.

Raven's come to change that. He's come to change everything.

A newly made bloodkind, Raven's out to shake up the old world order that oppresses their kind. He carries Darce along in his wake like a leaf on the tide, pushes and goads and tops from the bottom, inciting Darce to lust, passion and action. He makes a centuries-old cowboy feel alive again, something well worth taking risks for.

But when Raven challenges the Sanguine, the most dangerous of all vampires, has he gone too far?

Excerpt

Sanguine Shadows

Second Edition

Will Okati

All he'd wanted was a quiet drink.

Darce swirled the drop or three of tequila left in his shot glass and raised it to the guy who tended bar in this backwoods dive. If he had a name, or if the bar did, Darce didn't know it and he liked it that way. Tall and skinny as a pool cue, his head shaved just as bald, he didn't talk much and took Darce's glass with a grunt. Didn't ask what Darce wanted. You had your choice here of PBR, Bud, Jose and JD. Like 'em or find somewhere else to drink.

Tequila suited Darce fine. Didn't do anything for him, no, his being a dead man walking and all -- vampire, as some might say -- but he'd developed a taste for agave over the years. He held up one finger. Already had two, and three was one more than his usual.

The bartender shrugged, not giving too much of a damn. Maybe the folks around here knew what he was. Maybe they didn't. Knew enough to keep their mouths shut, anyway.

One more drink in peace and it'd be time to walk. He had a peaceful stretch of road home, nothing but the cicadas and bullfrogs and the yellow half-moon to guide him on his way. Nothing to hinder him.

Until the stranger slid onto the bar stool next to Darce and jostled him like they were old friends, bumping his shoulder. "I've got this one," he said. Sounded young. "One for me, too."

The bartender eyed Darce's new companion.

"I'll pay my own way," Darce said; that, and nothing more.

"Ouch. Not too friendly there, cowboy," the new arrival said. He swung around to give Darce a bold once-over.

Out of his peripheral vision, Darce got a good enough look at the new kid. Pretty. Fresh-faced and young, his jaw cut firm and his grin made for promising wicked deeds in the dark. He had a dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks that nearly tempted Darce into a snort of humor because he'd seen a lot in his time but a vampire with a scattering of pale sepia freckles was a new one on even him.

"I'm Raven," the vamp said, offering his hand along with his unlikely name. Darce snorted quietly. Raven, Silvershadow, Witchlight, Darce had heard 'em all and believed none. This one would be newly made, then, not knowing of the rules by which their kind lived. Which were no rules at all, for the most part, except to watch your back in case someone was sneaking up to shove a silver knife in it, and most of all to keep to yourself.

"That a fact," Darce said, not asking it. He caught the shot glass as the bartender slid it his way, amber drops spilling over the backs of his fingers.

Raven waited, then laughed under his breath. "And you're not going to tell me your name. That's okay. I already know who you are."

Darce stilled. That was more than he cared to have bandied about. "You'd be wise to keep that to yourself. That and your own name. Names get you in trouble."

"Do they really," Raven murmured. He swallowed his drink like a man with nary a grimace nor a cough. Not new to that game, at least.

Darce shot him a sideways glare. He shook his hair back and slammed the tequila neat, no salt or lime around here. Damn hair; it'd been long, near to chin length when he'd come across, and no matter how he cut it back it'd grow out by the next new moon.

Freckles there had short hair, crisp-cut dark, some kind of gel keeping it stuck up in spikes that looked sharp enough to prick a finger on. So young he was damn near veal, and fresh meat for any who cared to take a bite. No wonder he'd been turned. Someone had wanted to keep him that young and pretty for good, was Darce's bet.

And he'd gotten away. Darce wondered how, for a second, then discarded the question. Not his business. He backslapped his empty shot glass across the bar and licked his lips to get the last of the burning-hot taste off them.

"Now there's a pretty sight," Raven said, his gaze hot where it glanced over Darce's face.

A vampire sometimes liked to pretend to breathe, to mix in all the better, and for the most part Darce did it well. He drew air in through his nose and let it out slow and smooth. "You want to watch that kind of talk around here," he said. "Matter of fact, you want to keep your mouth tighter shut overall if you don't want trouble."

Raven laughed loud enough to draw a few wary looks. No one who drank in that backwater Texas dive wanted to draw attention, except this young'un. "You honestly think you're fooling anyone?" He lazily drew his finger around the rim of his shot glass. "Look around you, old man. Pretty crowded in here tonight for a place like this. I count fifteen heads, yours and mine and Baldy's not included, and it's not a big bar. Yet there's an empty space three men deep all around you. No one wants to get too close. They all know, even if they don't say. Maybe they don't want to admit it's true, but somewhere inside them they all know what you are -- what I am -- and that's why they leave you be."

Darce ground his back teeth together. His fangs, folded up against the top of his mouth usually, rattlesnake-style, slid down and pricked his tongue as he clamped his jaw shut.

"Must be lonely." Raven pushed his luck, shifting closer. "How long's it been since you traded more than a handful of words with anyone else? How long have you been around, old man?"

Something cool and firm brushed the top of Darce's thigh, tantalizingly close to his groin. He inhaled sharp and quick, and cursed it as a giveaway that Raven pounced on as sly and quick as a fox.

"If you want," Raven said, thumbing half an inch away from Darce's stiffening cock -- it had been a long, long time, whether he'd admit it out loud or not, "I'll leave you be. All you have to do is say 'go,' and I'll be out the door."

"Like hell you would."

"I think we're gonna get along, you and me." Raven stroked higher up and closer. "You know me already."

"I know you're trouble walking on two legs," Darce said. He fought with the urge to rise into the teasing pressure. Damn, it'd been half of forever since someone, anyone, laid a hand on him not in anger or with an addict's mindless craving. "I know I want you on your way as fast as you think you can run."

"No, you don't." Raven's palm molded over Darce's cock, his touch firm and strong as any vampire's, and for half a moment Darce burned with curiosity over what this kid's story was, anyway. What'd shaped him this way? He forgot that in the next second when Raven moved fast in the way of their kind, faster than most, his lips brushing Darce's ear, and said, "I could leave, or I could take you around back and suck your dick." He pierced Darce's earlobe with one of his fangs, slim and needle-sharp. "Your choice."

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true.

Also still one of the quiet ones to watch out for, but life -- like storytelling -- is always a work in progress.

Website | Facebook

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $10.00 Changeling Press Gift Code!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Oscar’s Tale by Chris Bishop Blog Tour! @CBishop_author @cathiedunn Instagram @thecoffeepotbookclub Twitter / X: @cathiedunn IG & Threads: @thecoffeepotbookclub Bluesky: @cathiedunn.bsky.social

2025-04-15T03:30:00.001-05:00

Book Title

Oscar’s Tale

Series

n/a

Author

Chris Bishop

Publication Date

new paperback

February 25th, 2025

Publisher

Historical Fiction Company

Pages

166 (pb)

Genre
Historical Fiction

#HistoricalFiction #AngloSaxon #Vikings #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub

Oscar’s Tale is that of a Saxon boy who sets out to find and rescue his father who has been taken by Viking slavers.

The story begins in 877, just prior to the Viking attack on Chippenham in which King Alfred was routed. Against this backdrop, Oscar is obliged to set out on his all but impossible quest and quickly becomes embroiled in all that’s going on in Wessex at this turbulent time, culminating in him playing a small but important part in the battle at Edington.

But this is not just a story about blood thirsty battles and fearsome warriors, it’s about a boy struggling to live up to his father’s reputation as a warrior and trying to find his place in a dangerous and uncertain world. For that, he is forced to confront many dangers and earn the respect of others who are far above his station. Along the way he also finds love – albeit at a cost far higher than most would have been willing to pay.

‘For is it not the wish of every man that his son will achieve more in life than he did?’

Universal Buy Link:

Chris was born in London in 1951. After a successful career as a Chartered Surveyor, he retired to concentrate on writing, combining this with his lifelong interest in Anglo-Saxon history.

His first novel, Blood and Destiny, was published in 2017 and his second, The Warrior with the Pierced Heart, in 2018 followed by The Final Reckoning in 2019 and Bloodlines in 2020. Together they form a series entitled The Shadow of the Raven, the fifth and final part of which - The Prodigal Son – was published in 2023.

Chris has published numerous blogs about various aspects of Anglo-Saxon history and is a member of the Historical Writers’ Association.:

Website

www.chrisbishopauthor.com

Twitter

https://x.com/CBishop_author

Goodreads

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/207271.Chris_Bishop

Tour Schedule Page

@SilverDaggerBookTours Beyond the Realms A Young Adult Epic Fantasy Anthology with stories by K.M. Jenkins, Christina Wallace, Joli Campbell, Megan Charlie, R.E. Joyce y #BeyondTheRealms @authorkmjenkins @StorytellerPub22 #books !

2025-04-14T04:00:00.047-05:00

A Limited Edition Collection of YA Epic Fantasy

Authors on PreOrder for 99 Pennies!

Beyond the Realms

A Young Adult Epic Fantasy Anthology

with stories by

K.M. Jenkins, Christina Wallace, Joli Campbell, Megan Charlie, R.E. Joyce

In lands far beyond our world heroes step forward to take on epic journeys into the unknown. They must face the thrill of adventure, love, and magic to find themselves as they go. But when fate plays with their destiny, they find they are on a path they never saw coming. From SwordMasters to Fae creatures you will find a mix of fantasy creatures that will keep you reading until the very end. Grab this limited-edition box set before time runs out.

Written by authors of Fantasy Romance and Epic Quests, this boxset is sure to take you on an epic journey.

Featuring tales by Christina Wallace, debut author Joli Campbell, International Bestselling author K.M. Jenkins, Megan Charlie, and R.E. Joyce fill these pages.

Twisting tales of battle, magic, intrigue, love, and tragedy. Perfect for those looking for light romance with epic adventures to enjoy.

Genres

Young Adult, Epic Fantasy, Swords and Sorcery, and Fantasy Romance

Tropes

Enemies to Lovers, One Bed, She saves herself, Strong female lead, Fae, Task-based quest/epic journey, No spice second chance romance, Epic quest, Magical test, Facing ones fears, Hero's journey, The mentor, and Love triangle turned inside out.

**Only .99 cents!!**

Amazon * Apple * Kobo * Smashwords

* Books2Read * Bookbub * Goodreads

The Swordmaster Brothers

by K.M. Jenkins

EVERY YEAR SWORDMASTERS ARE CHOSEN. But first they have to be tested. Together, Rikkin and Roulle must endure the trials that will reveal their greatest strengths and weaknesses and possibly lead to their deaths. Can two brothers survive the challenge of the GrandMaster to become the next generation of SwordMasters? Only through overcoming their greatest fears can they change their destinies forever.

K.M. Jenkins is a published international bestselling author that writes epic battles, forbidden romance, and tales of fantasy and adventure. She has a big love for the fantasy genre and loves dragons above all creatures.

When she is not writing, you will find her chasing her twin boys around the house. Between the three she has epic battles throughout the day and nothing ever gets boring.

Website * Facebook * Facebook * FB Group * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

#YAFantasybooks #fantasybooks #EpicFantasy #Romantasy #romancebooks #paranormalromance #anthology #readers #reading #booklovers #BookTour #Giveaway #bookbuzz #bookboost #bookrecommendations #BookBlogger #Bookstagram #bookish #bookclub #MustRead #Writersofinstagram #AmReading #BookPromo #AuthorPromo #writingcommunity #readerscommunity

Follow the tour HERE for special content

and a giveaway!

$10 Amazon

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Celticlady's Reviews

Before Dorothy by Hazel Gaynor Book Spotlight! Will be published on June 17th, 2025.

Vacations Can Be Murder Dawn M Barclay April 28 - May 23, 2025 Virtual Book Tour!

Vacations Can Be Murder

As Close as You Can Get to True Crime While Still Breathing!

Praise for Vacations Can Be Murder:

Vacations Can Be Murder Trailer:

Book Details:

Read an excerpt from Vacations Can Be Murder: A True Crime Lover’s Travel Guide to New England:

This is from the Crime Summaries section of the Connecticut chapter. The actual addresses of these crimes are all included in the Itineraries section of the chapter.

Catch Up With Dawn M Barclay:

Tour Participants:

Enter Now for Your Chance to Win!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Dawn M Barclay. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

The Matchmaker’s Mare by Hywela Lyn Blog Tour!

The Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Series by Elena Taylor April 28 - May 23, 2025 Virtual Book Tour!

The Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery Series

by Elena Taylor

April 28 - May 23, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

ALL WE BURIED

Book Details:

A COLD, COLD WORLD

Now In Paperback!

A Cold, Cold World is nominated for a Foreword INDIES Award, Best Mystery of 2024 (winner announced early June)

Book Details:

Praise for ALL WE BURIED:

Praise for A COLD, COLD WORLD:

Author Bio

Catch Up With Elena Taylor: www.ElenaTaylorAuthor.com Elena's Blog: The Mystery of Writing Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub - @elenataylorauthor Instagram - @elenataylorauthor X - @Elena_TaylorAut Facebook - @ElenaTaylorAuthor

Tour Participants:

JOIN IN ON THE GIVEAWAY:

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Elena Taylor. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

The Whisper Legacy by Tj O'Connor April 28 - May 23, 2025 Virtual Book Tour! #TheWhisperLegacy: #PoliticalThriller #ActionThriller #DetectiveMystery #ThrillerReads #ConspiracyThriller

THE WHISPER LEGACY

by Tj O'Connor

April 28 - May 23, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Praise for The Whisper Legacy:

THE WHISPER LEGACY Trailer:

Book Details:

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One

Marlowe “Lowe” Curran

Chapter Two

U.C.

Catch Up With Tj O'Connor:

Tour Participants:

Don't Miss Out! Enter Now for Your Chance to Win!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Tj O'Connor. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

The Last Door Ajar by Michael Holly Barrett Book Blast!

Murder at Meadows Lake Clubhouse (Soup the Supernatural Kitten Mysteries) by Debbie De Louise Book Tour!

Asset in Black by Casey Prescott Book Tour! @SilverDaggerBookTours #AssetInBlack #CaseyPrescott #JanetMorris #ChristopherCrosbyMorris @PerseidPublishing @perseid_press

The Melody of Evil Hani’s Daughter Mysteries by N.L. Holmes Book Feature!

Luka A Los Angeles Quakes Hockey Series Book 2 by Alisa Jean Book Tour! @SilverDaggerBookTours #Luka #LAQuakesHockeySeries @alisajean.author

Only in September by Cynthia Flowers Virtual Book Tour!

Fantaisie by Michael Kenneth Smith Book Feature Tour April 21-25, 2025!

A Dead Man Speaks by Lisa Jones Gentry Book Blitz@#ADeadManSpeaks #LisaJonesGentry #XpressoTours @XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣⁣

After Pearl by Stephen G. Eoannou April 14 - May 9, 2025 Virtual Book Tour!

A Nicholas Bishop Mystery

1942

Praise for After Pearl:

AFTER PEARL Trailer:

Book Details:

Chapter 1

Catch Up With Stephen G. Eoannou:

Tour Participants:

Don't Miss Your Chance to Win! Enter Today!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Stephen G. Eoannou. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

The Ballad of Mary Kearney by Katherine Mezzacappa Blog Tour! #TheCoffeePotBookClub @cathiedunn #HistoricalFiction #IrishHistory #WomensFiction

After Pearl by Stephen G. Eoannou April 14 - May 9, 2025 Virtual Book Tour!

A Nicholas Bishop Mystery

Praise for After Pearl:

AFTER PEARL Trailer:

Book Details:

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

Catch Up With Stephen G. Eoannou:

Tour Participants:

Don't Miss Your Chance to Win! Enter Today!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Stephen G. Eoannou. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

Death at the Dogpark Neil S. Plakcy and Neil S. Plakcy Virtual Book Tour!

Catch Up With Elena Taylor:
www.ElenaTaylorAuthor.com
Elena's Blog: The Mystery of Writing
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @elenataylorauthor
Instagram - @elenataylorauthor
X - @Elena_TaylorAut
Facebook - @ElenaTaylorAuthor