Tales of Méhns Móri, Book 1

Date Published: May 19, 2026

Kingdoms burned. Ancient powers fell. And in the ruins they left behind, the
shadow of Coruk-Azul the one-eyed god of death still lingers.

Hidden among the remnants of that forgotten age lies the Scepter of Selene, a
divine relic once capable of maintaining balance between gods and mortals. Now
broken into scattered fragments, the scepter has become the center of a brutal
race that could reshape the fate of the world.

Endymion, a healer from distant Miletus, never sought glory or war. But after
arriving in the Greek colony of Phanagoria at the edge of civilization, he is
drawn into a deadly conflict alongside warriors, exiles, and survivors bound
together by prophecy, secrets, and survival.

Because something ancient is rising.

Vädumir.

Undying conqueror. Cursed warlord. A tyrant who has outlived kingdoms and
buried entire empires beneath blood and ash. For centuries, Vädumir has
hunted the fragments of the scepter, and he will destroy anyone standing in
his path.

If the relic is restored, balance may return to a dying world.

If it fails, something far worse may awaken beneath the ruins of the gods.

Blending dark fantasy, Greek mythology, celestial magic, vampires, giants, and
ancient Black Sea civilizations, The Shadow and Scepter is a fast-paced
historical fantasy epic perfect for readers of John Gwynne, Joe Abercrombie,
and Jay Kristoff.

About the Authors

Long before they began writing epic fantasy together, Timothy Manley and Shawn
McMichael were Navy brats growing up on Treasure Island in San Francisco Bay.
They filled their youth with adventures, imagination, and late nights lost in
role-playing and strategy games where heroes, monsters, and distant worlds
first took shape. Decades later, that shared love of storytelling became The
Shadow and the Scepter, the first novel set in the mythic world of
Méhns Móri: a realm forged from ancient history, forgotten
legends, and the sweeping traditions of heroic fantasy.

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History / War / Biography

Date Published: April 13, 2026

Publisher: MindStir Media

What happens when training ends—and real combat begins?

In ROOM 13:
A Fighter Pilot’s Story, Colonel Kenneth Gilmore delivers a gripping,
firsthand account of life as a fighter pilot during the Vietnam/Laos conflict,
where survival was never guaranteed—and every mission could be your
last.

This powerful military memoir traces Gilmore’s extraordinary journey
from a college football coach to an elite U.S. Air Force fighter pilot, flying
some of the most iconic aircraft of the era, including the F-102, F-101, A-1
Skyraider, and F-106.

But nothing could prepare him for the brutal reality of war.

220 Combat Missions. One Life-Changing Experience.

Assigned to
fly the A-1 Skyraider—an aircraft with one of the highest loss rates of
the Vietnam War—Gilmore quickly learned that traditional training fell
short in the face of enemy fire.

After being shot down during mission 130, he survived hours on the ground
before rescue—an experience that would forever shape his life,
leadership, and understanding of war.

The Seven Rules That Meant Survival

In the chaos of combat,
Gilmore and a fellow pilot developed seven essential rules for
survival—lessons forged under extreme pressure and life-or-death
conditions.

These principles became the foundation of his leadership when he later
returned to command and mentor fellow fighter pilots as an Operations Officer.

A Story of Courage, Leadership, and Sacrifice

Over the course of
his career, Gilmore flew 220 combat missions and earned numerous honors,
including three Distinguished Flying Crosses for heroism. His rapid rise
through the ranks to Colonel reflects both his skill and leadership—but
also came at a cost, pulling him away from the cockpit he loved.

About the Author

Colonel Kenneth Gilmore (USAF Ret.) is a decorated Vietnam War fighter
pilot and author of ROOM 13: A Fighter Pilot’s Story. With over 220
combat missions in the A-1 Skyraider and three Distinguished Flying Crosses
for heroism, his experiences in air combat shaped both his military career and
Phis life. Today, he shares his story to honor fellow pilots and educate
future generations about the realities of war.

 

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Children’s Picture Book

Date Published: 07-02-2026

Publisher: Solander Press

About the Author

Kelly is a former elementary, middle grade and college educator. Her work at
LEGO Education spanned two decades in a variety of positions from Curriculum
Specialist to Global Master Trainer. Kelly loves to travel, meet new people,
and learn about the world around her. She is active in her community, serving
on several non-profit boards.

Join her email list to get updates on her latest releases and her monthly
newsletter.

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Facebook: @AuthorKellyReddin

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Date Published: 4-21-2026

Publisher: Ground One Press

New York City, 1981. Dianna leaves her small southern town for the bright
lights and rich culture of the Big Apple and a prime job at the Met. Sparks
fly when she crosses paths with a charming Lebanese diplomat. A shared night
of passion launches her into an exciting romance and opens her eyes to a
bloody conflict far from home. But as warring factions take hold overseas, she
can’t shake the feeling that her new love is hiding dark secrets.

Qasim has never known peace. When he gets the chance to bring his
country’s troubles before the United Nations, he abandons his family
obligations to heal his war-torn homeland. But his true mission takes a detour
when he falls for a beautiful American woman. Against the urging of his
closest friend and mentor, he wants to share his heart and hopes with her.

In the face of cultural barriers and mounting war, can Dianna and Qasim find
the strength to stand up for their love and a lasting peace?

Having firsthand experience in the places she writes about, Kathryn brings a
unique authenticity to her stories, blending rich cultural details with the
universal themes of love, redemption, and peace. She studied creative writing
at Hollins University, and publications management at George Washington
University. She currently lives in Maryland with her husband. They have two
adult children, off to their own world adventures, but still parent a feisty
feline. Next on their bucket list: Croatia, Portugal, or Tanzania!

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A Paranormal Murder Mystery Romance

Date Published: June 5, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

The secretive Duke of Aberystwyth has invited Madge Majesty to a murder
mystery party, but he’s the first victim!

Madge is a harpy, mystery writer, and amateur sleuth with a nose for murder.
At her side is her faithful chauffeur, Hayden, who is a telekinetic ex-thief
— and a confirmed bachelor.

Now it’s up to Madge to solve the whodunit. Her suspects are a motley
assortment of inverts and very nervous heterosexuals, all of whom have more
than just their sexual foibles to hide. Is it the cross-dressing vampire, the
packless werewolf, the voyeuristic doctor, the gargoyle majordomo, or the
promiscuous man who seems bent on getting everyone into his bed, including
Hayden?

 

 

Excerpt

 

 

 

All rights reserved.

 

Copyright ©2026 Lena Austin

“Madame?”

Madge Majesty looked up from her study of the papers spread on her lap
and across the seat of her beloved 1912 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost Limousine.
“Yes, Hayden?”

“Madame, Dunraven Castle is but perhaps half an hour away. You requested
a warning.” Hayden had lasted years longer than any of her other drivers, so
he knew he was liked, but wasn’t fool enough to take advantage of that
knowledge. Harpies were not creatures to take lightly.

“Hmm. So I did.” She gathered up her papers and stuffed them into her
leather case. Wearily, she pulled on the gloves she’d laid to the side and put
on the ridiculously large hat with an immense array of feathers decorating it.
“There. I’m properly adorned.” She huffed out an unladylike breath, as much as
her corset would allow. “I’d give a great deal to be back in Greece where the
fashions were sensible.”

Hayden quirked a smile at her. “But not warm, Madame. Wales in winter is
considerably chillier.” As if to emphasize his point, the wind rattled the
Rolls with no respect for the craftsmanship that went into it.

“I’m very sorry I agreed to be the Duke’s hostess for this mystery
party. Why didn’t I refuse and stay in our lovely townhouse in London, where I
could enjoy a party or write as I pleased?” Madge rubbed her chin
thoughtfully. “Ah, well, what’s done is done. We’ll make the best of the
weekend and be toasting our toes in front of the home fires soon enough.”

“I’ve never been to a mystery party, Madame. How does one throw a party
for a mystery?”

“Very simple. It’s all in this box.” Madge patted the locked strongbox
beside her. “There are clue cards and the basic plot for me to follow. This
one is perfect for a winter game, called The Santa Clause. Who wouldn’t love
to murder a solicitor or two now and again?” She shrugged. “I certainly would,
upon occasion.”

Hayden retreated into silence and returned his attention to maneuvering
her precious new car through the few treacherous roads that Wales bothered to
have at all. The ex-thief was not fond of anyone who had anything to do with
the law. He was officially rehabilitated, but a mere ten years of service as
her driver didn’t negate a lifetime of running from authority. An extremely
careful and quiet man by nature, he was — in Madge’s opinion — the perfect
companion, much better than a twittering peahen of a lady’s maid.

The car lurched and slid to one side on a patch of icy mud, throwing
Madge against the door. She bore it in stoic silence. Hayden wouldn’t
understand how much they needed the money provided by this weekend of enforced
merriment. Everyone was writing books in this day and age, and she wouldn’t
say the money she earned was paltry, but it certainly didn’t allow for a
lavish lifestyle. In fact, if the truth were known, Hayden was the only
employee she could afford. Thus, while on their jaunts — often paid by those
who wished for a bit of fame and glamour to rub off on them — Hayden served
as chef, chauffeur, lady’s maid, and man of all work.

Since it suited her to be knowledgeable about subjects many men hadn’t
even the stomach for, Madge pulled out of her case one of the few books where
the great Sigmund Freud appeared to change his mind on the subject of anxiety
and inhibitions. Madge grinned to herself. She did love humor, especially when
humans meant to be serious. “Of course we all have inhibitions, moronic little
man.”

Her mumble caught Hayden’s attention. “Why do you bother with that
mumbo-jumbo, Madame? He thinks everything has to do with sexual congress!”

“Hmm, yes, well, he does have certain prejudices, doesn’t he? I’m not
aberrant because I enjoy sex, and I seriously doubt the way your mother
changed your nappies has anything to do with your homosexuality. Do be
forgiving, dear. He’s hopelessly addicted to cocaine, and trapped in a
repressed society.”

Sadly, everything she said was true. “You’d know more about repressed
societies than I, Madame. I’m only a poor human, after all.” Hayden gave her
one of his infamous Mona Lisa smiles — a smile that showed no teeth but
implied much more than mischief while keeping well into propriety. Bless him,
he never stepped a toe out of line publicly, unless called upon to do so.

Madge, on the other hand, had no compunctions about showing her fangs,
even when she covered her retractable dagger-like talons with silk gloves. The
pointed ears peeking out of dark curls and her Grecian looks marked her as a
foreigner in a land notable for its snobbery, but Madge saw no need to bother
hiding herself. Well, all right, she hid the wings. Blasted things got in the
way if she didn’t, but that was for her convenience and not propriety. She was
what she was — an expatriate harpy who told a good story and occasionally
found cause to use her bloodthirsty nature to solve a mystery.

The irony was, no one ever thought to accuse her of the murders because
harpies weren’t known for subtlety when it came to killing. Madge acknowledged
the legend with twisted lips, and didn’t bother to remind anyone that she was
free and no longer the slave of the Furies.

Framed by snow clouds the color of a pigeon’s breast, Dunraven Castle
hove up from the surrounding hills like a fairytale. Beautifully situated and
scrupulously maintained by a trust none of the Duke’s wastrel ancestors could
touch, it was a welcoming sight in the gathering gloom of dusk. Thanks to the
road conditions, if you dared call the deeply rutted mud tracks by the same
noble word the Romans used for their craftsmanship, they were hours late.
They’d missed tea in their haste to make up time, and now her stomach rumbled
audibly. “Have we time for a biscuit, Hayden?”

“Was that your stomach, Madame? Surely I thought we were about to have a
storm.” Hayden pretended to study the sky very seriously. At the same time,
his hand reached back imploringly. “I’d love a bikky, thank you. No doubt I’ve
missed the servant’s dinner, and I’ve no mind to make do with a bit of cold
chicken and some bread until morning.”

Chuckling wickedly because he knew she always insisted he sit with her
at table, forestalling any foolish matchmaking attempts, Madge handed him a
large shortbread biscuit from her hamper, and they munched companionably.
Finally, the car traversed the bridge atop the dry moat and passed through the
portcullis into the courtyard of Dunraven.

“Just do me one small favor, Madame?” Hayden did not move from the seat
to open her door.

“So serious! Very well, what is it?” She thought she knew, but made him
ask.

“Let’s try not to let this weekend become a real murder mystery?” His
hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and she imagined under the proper
driving gloves of his profession, his knuckles were white. Poor thing, he
really had suffered at the last mysterious weekend, and had ended up
incarcerated for three days until Madge had proven to everyone’s satisfaction
that another had committed the deed. For poor Hayden, it had been a truly
miserable occasion.

Madge patted his shoulder. “Buck up, Hayden. I’m planning nothing more
than a game all weekend. After all, what could happen in the Duke’s presence?”

 

About the Author

Someone cursed Lena Austin with “may you have a life so full you’ll have many
tales to tell your grandchildren.” Lena’s a “fallen” society wench with a
checkered past. She’s been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio
DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman,
BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order.
She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba
— she’s got a lifetime of “Research material!”

Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won’t listen anyway? Writing them
down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM
Mistress to take up crocheting or something?

 

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

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Children’s Picture Book

Date Published: June 2, 2026

Join a curious child and their loving Ammamma on a joyful kitchen adventure
filled with crispy dosas, colorful chutneys, and heartwarming family
traditions. As they learn about different kinds of dosas, they discover that
the real magic isn’t just in cooking—it’s in the time spent
together.

Dosa Day is a playful children’s picture book celebrating Indian
cuisine, family traditions, and intergenerational love. With rhythmic
read-aloud text and vibrant illustrations, this story creates a rich sensory
experience that introduces young readers to culture, connection, and mindful
togetherness.

Perfect for children ages 3–7, this diverse picture book is ideal for:

• • • • • Multicultural children’s books
        • Indian and South Asian culture stories for kids
        • Picture books about food, family, and traditions
        • Engaging read-aloud bedtime stories

About the Author

 In the quiet magic of the Mojave Desert, where the sky stretches wide and the
sunsets set everything golden, Veena Katikineni found the perfect place to let
her imagination wander.

Dosa Day was born from a heart full of cherished memories: big, bustling
family gatherings with her beloved Indian family, where the house was always
full, the food was always flowing, and the smell of something delicious was
always drifting through the air. Food wasn’t just food — it was
love, laughter, and the heartbeat of every gathering.

A physician by training, Veena has spent her career caring for others, but she
has always believed that stories heal in their own special way. This is her
love letter to dosa, to her roots, and to the joy of sharing both with the
world.

When she’s not writing or seeing patients, you’ll find her on her
yoga mat, planning the family’s next adventure, or exploring the world
with her loving husband and two spirited boys, her favorite companions in
wandering and in life.

She believes magic lives in the everyday moments, especially the ones shared
around a table.

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Mystery and Suspense

Date Published: 05-04-2026

Publisher: Mission Point Press

A henpecked husband learns that “till death do us part”
isn’t the end of the story when his dead wife returns.

A newly retired couple uncovers a pestilent secret buried beneath their dream
home.

A young woman retreats to the countryside to discover herself, only to stumble
upon an unsolved tragedy calling out for justice.

Voices Carry Here is a collection of short stories steeped in mystery,
suspense, and the supernatural. Set against the beauty of Michigan’s
Upper Peninsula, these tales will reveal secrets just beneath the surface of
tranquil lakes, cries for help echoing from shadowed campgrounds, and
small-town characters experiencing extraordinary circumstances.

Blending chills with warmth, author Gail Galotta’s flair for
supernatural suspense is tempered with touches of humor, romance, and
nostalgia.

Excerpt from “The Pestilence House”

We moved into our newly constructed home in early June. The first nightmare occurred just two weeks later.

I awoke to the sound of heavy breathing. Thinking at first that it was Ken, I swept my arm across to his side, but it was vacant. I quickly realized that something else was present in the room, something that was steadily approaching the bed. I lay there paralyzed, my back to the presence that hovered above me for a moment and then lowered toward my head. I could feel the subtle waves of labored breaths against the nape of my neck. I tried to scream, but terror froze my vocal cords. Is this a dream? It must be a dream! Where is Ken! Then, another sound invaded my ears—a guttural noise, like that of an animal. A racoon? A coyote? I jerked my head around and opened my mouth to fend off the beast with a mighty shout. Instead, my lips encountered the extended tongue of a different creature. His distorted face—with its bulbous nose and bulging eyes—scarcely seemed human. His skin was dappled with bruises and only thinly veiled the skeletal frame beneath. Suddenly, the tongue retracted, and the jaw extended in an effort to speak—or bite. I screamed. A bloodcurdling scream that vanquished the intruder and sent my very human husband rushing upstairs.

Ken turned on the light and sat next to me on the bed while I attempted an explanation of…I wasn’t sure what. He suggested that my nightmare may have been prompted by something I heard from the movie he had been watching. My trembling eased as he continued. “Sometimes I wake up and think someone’s at our door. You know, like when our dog used to hear a doorbell on TV.”

The reference made me smile. “I didn’t bark, did I?”

Although Ken’s theory seemed plausible, I wasn’t totally convinced. Especially after I suffered a similar experience a few nights later.
Our cocker spaniel had been gone for several years, but when I felt the mattress yield to the weight of something at my feet, my first thought was of that beloved pet, and I instinctively adjusted my position to accommodate her. Then my eyes flashed open. Something was moving slowly along my body. I could feel the light depressions on the blanket, like footsteps in the snow. This time I didn’t scream. My breaths quivered as something pressed gently on my back and then my shoulder. I lay still, waiting to throw off the…squirrel? Rat? But when a whisper approached my ear, I bolted upright. Whatever noise I made alarmed Ken. This time the television was off, and the only ambient sound that could have possibly inspired my dream was
the rhythmic breathing of my husband, who had been asleep next to me in bed.

About the Author

She’s always been drawn to the mystical pull of water, which often
shapes the settings of her stories. An award-winning writer and former English
teacher, she lives in Vulcan, Michigan, overlooking the same lake that
inspired her earliest work. When asked what inspires her latest fiction, she
offers only a cryptic smile.

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Riptide MC, Books 6

Date Published: June 6, 2026

Publisher: ChangelingPress

Wynter — Scary Guy lived up to his name, threatening to rape me and sell me
as a whore. Not happening. I reached for the hidden blade at my ankle just as
a tattooed biker wearing a Riptide MC cut stepped in to save me. The dude knew
how to handle an asshole like Scary Guy without breaking a sweat. Gorgeous as
he is, this biker isn’t just eye candy. I find myself kissing him in the
middle of a crowd of nerds and superheroes. I have a thing for tough guys with
tattoos. My head tells me to run, but I want more. I want him.

Shadow — I noticed her the second she slipped in front of us, alert and
watchful like she expected trouble just for existing. When some ape starts
pawing her, I step in. Nobody manhandles a woman in front of me. I pretend she
belongs to me, and she plays right along. I’m willing to do more than
just talk tough if the bastard won’t back off. When he proves how stupid
he is, attacking her in the parking lot, I’ve got the excuse I needed to
beat some sense into him. Wynter’s mine, whether she knows it or not.
Trouble’s not finished with her, and neither am I.

Wynter

I glanced over my shoulder. He was still there.

I’d dubbed him Scary Guy.

I tried to convince myself I was just being paranoid and the guy just happened
to be headed in the same direction as me. I’d never seen him before; I
was sure of that. You didn’t forget a face like his with a jagged scar
down the side of his cheek and a spider web with a skull in the center
tattooed on his neck. There was no reason for him to be fixated on me.

I certainly wasn’t the kind of woman men liked to fantasize over. I was
short, wiry, and dressed as a Browncoat, one of the characters out of my
favorite sci-fi series. I didn’t have a spectacular rack or an hourglass
figure and my hair hung in a single braid down my back, the only way I’d
found to keep it from exploding into a messy tangle.

I assessed him out of the corner of my eye. He was big and solid, although at
this distance it was hard to tell if that bulk was muscles or a beer belly. He
had on some kind of dark costume with a black cape that fell to mid-thigh.
This was a comic book convention, so his outfit wasn’t all that strange.
I had no idea who he thought he looked like. I swear ninety percent of the
people here wore capes of some type. It could be anybody or nobody.

He looked dangerous, though, the kind of guy you avoid being caught alone
with. Unfortunately, I was well acquainted with the type. I grew up in the
projects, daughter of a junkie too deep into her addictions to care about me.
Self-preservation meant I’d developed a sixth sense when it came to
creeps like this a long time ago.

I gave my head a mental shake. This may not be Dragon Con in Atlanta, but
there were still several thousand people here. He couldn’t just drag me
off to a dark room, even if he wanted to, so why did his stare send shivers of
apprehension down my spine?

As if he could sense my attention, the asshole grinned at me and licked his
lips. Yikes! If I had any doubt that he was focused on me, it fled right then
and there.

“Excuse me.” I shouldered my way between a young woman dressed as
Batwoman and a couple dressed as Shrek and his bride. Zigzagging back and
forth, I headed for the doorway. Maybe I could lose the creep in the crowd.

“Hey, watch it!” A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle glared up at me
when I accidentally stood on her foot. This section of the event was crowded,
waiting for some promised celebrities to appear. I mumbled an apology and
continued to wade my way through the crowd, trying to recall the map
they’d handed me when I got here. The place was a warren of smaller
rooms radiating off a central hall. I should be able to find a spot to hide.

A quick glance behind me showed Scary Guy was following me. My heart rate
increased as adrenaline flooded my system. I had too much at stake right now
to be caught in an altercation with anyone.

The crowd parted in front of the jerk with no effort from him. I got it. One
glare from that face and no one wanted the kind of trouble it promised. I
still didn’t understand why he’d singled me out. Just my bad luck?
I felt like a rabbit being stalked by a coyote, looking for a hole to vanish
into. I just needed to get out of his line of sight long enough to dart into
one of those smaller side rooms and disappear.

It seemed like forever before I finally reached the doorway and plunged out
into the main hall. The crowds were thinner here, and I took advantage of the
opportunity to dash across to the far side and slide into the Marvel Comics
section.

Not surprisingly, the room was crowded, people packed in shoulder to shoulder.
For once my lack of height played to my advantage. Anyone scanning the area
from the entranceway would have a hard time seeing me when most of the
gathering towered over top of me. Making my way to the center of the room, I
turned to scan the area behind me.

Nothing.

Scary Guy was nowhere in sight. I let out a ragged breath and put a hand up to
my chest. I could feel my heart racing beneath my fingertips. So much for
being a brave member of the Resistance. All it took was one creepy guy to send
me scurrying for cover. He hadn’t even been that close to me, let alone
within touching distance.

I inhaled deeply, trying to remember the meditation class I’d once
attended. I needed to calm down. It’s not like this was the first time I
found myself running from the hint of danger. As a kid, my life had been
chaotic at best. My mother might have been a junkie who cared more about her
next fix than me, but in order to stay out of the foster care system,
I’d had to make sure she stayed alive.

Sometimes that meant doing things that could get me thrown into juvie, like
pick-pocketing for rent money. It was more luck than skill that I never got
caught. I became an expert at shoplifting and begging long before I hit double
digits. I had a plan, and I clung to it like a drowning man clinging to a life
raft. All I had to do was make it to sixteen without drawing the attention of
Child Protective Services, and I could split. Free from the threat of foster
care, I could do anything I wanted.

A simple plan, but a workable one.

Then my mom got pregnant again.

I have no idea who Star’s father is, and I doubt Mom did either. She was
at that point in her addiction where she would sleep with anyone for a fix so
there were lots of candidates to choose from, and none of them had names.

My little sister was born on a hot July day, in the back of a dealer’s
van, and I was instantly smitten. Somehow Child Protective Services
didn’t get wind of the birth, or they were too overworked to care about
one more kid who wouldn’t amount to much. Mom brought the baby home, and
I took over, making sure Star was fed and clothed and stayed alive.

I already knew how her life would go if I didn’t stick around, so
it’s not like I had a choice. Star blinked up at me with those big blue
eyes, and my heart melted. I promised myself then and there that I’d
look after her.

Star wasn’t exactly a normal name, but then neither was Wynter. Mom had
a thing for weird names. Maybe it came from having such a boring name herself,
or maybe she thought naming my little sister Star would give her a chance in
life. In her own way, when the need for a fix wasn’t consuming her, I
liked to think Mom cared about us.

My attention snapped back to the present. Something was happening in the front
of the room. A buzz of excitement swept through the crowd. I stretched up on
tiptoe to see, but there were three big guys in front of me blocking my view.
They laughed and joked with one another, oblivious to me or anyone else in the
crowd.

Gritting my teeth, I squeezed between them.

No wonder the crowd was so excited. From a partially hidden door up front,
four of the Marvel Avengers stalked into the room. Iron Man, Captain America,
and the Hulk all took their seats at the signing table while the Black Widow
stood up and swept the room with a piercing gaze. With a theatrical flourish,
she picked up the microphone from the table in front of her. Laughter and
excitement rippled through the crowd as she introduced herself and her
companions as if everyone present wasn’t very aware of who they were.
Showing off her agility with an impressive back flip, she landed in her seat
and indicated the signing was now open.

The crowd surged forward, carrying me along with it. I had no intention of
paying to have someone sign a comic for me, no matter how famous or agile they
were, but the crowd’s excitement was contagious. It didn’t cost
anything to watch, and if I got close enough, I might even be able to get a
picture of one of the fabled Avengers on my phone. Star would love that. She
was eight and loved comic books the way I loved to draw. I fished my phone out
of my pocket and let out a sigh of relief when I saw I’d actually
remembered to fully charge it the night before. Now I just needed to get close
enough to that table to snap a picture or two.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I glanced behind me, expecting
to see Scary Guy. Instead, my gaze landed on the three big guys I’d seen
earlier, still laughing and joking with each other. I’d noticed that
they all wore leather cuts with some kind of logo on the back, and I’d
spent enough time on the streets to know what that meant.

It showed their motorcycle club affiliation, and not the granddaddy going for
a Sunday ride kind of club. That alone should have twigged my survival
instinct, but for some reason it didn’t. They certainly looked the part
of outlaw gang members. Tough, tattooed, leather-clad guys with muscles to
spare, they had that aura about them that spelled danger. Not a bunch
you’d want to mess with, especially if you were trying to convince the
courts you were a responsible, law-abiding citizen.

The biker in the center looked directly at me, and a slow grin spread across
his face. He lifted one brow as if questioning my attention. Damn, he was
mouthwatering, although maybe that wasn’t quite the word. Appealing?
Sexy? Tempting? Definitely not hard on the eyes. I could picture myself
licking my way down his…

I blushed, but I didn’t look away. He looked like the kind of guy who
wouldn’t be shocked by my home life or my mom’s abdication of her
parental responsibilities. Maybe a carnal distraction might help settle my
nerves before the court date.

A commotion erupted in the entranceway, pulling me out of my daydream. Scary
Guy and his buddies were pushing their way into the room, knocking other
attendees out of their way like might made right or some other stupid macho
shit. Abandoning my silent exchange with Sexy Biker, I pivoted to face the
front of the room. Hopefully Scary Guy wouldn’t be able to pick me out
of the crowd if he couldn’t see my face. Not like we were old buddies or
anything.

The Marvel characters were hamming it up, signing, and occasionally posing for
photos. A couple of conference workers dressed in shirts with the Marvel logo
on them were collecting money from the fans as they handed over comics to sign
or the fee for having their picture taken with one of the celebrities. When
the characters stood to pose with the fans, I managed to snap some shots with
my phone, although I wasn’t close enough for details. I could tweak the
pictures when I got back home, editing out the fans. With any luck, I’d
have a few usable pictures for Star to gush over.

I jumped as an enormous hand clamped down painfully on my shoulder.
“Thought you could get away, did you?”

Shit.

Scary Guy.

I couldn’t afford to just knee the asshole in the balls, tempting as
that was. The courts would definitely frown on that. Plastering a calm
expression on my face, I twisted around and drew my brows down in a puzzled
frown. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

His grin was pure evil. “Not yet, but I plan to fix that. You’re
coming with me to a place where we can get to know each other real
well.” Keeping his hand on my shoulder, he swept my body with a glance
that left me feeling dirty. “Real, real well.”

I shook my head, trying to resist the temptation to pull my knife out of its
hidden ankle sheath. “Sorry, but I don’t think my boyfriend would
like that.” I tried to shrug his hand off my shoulder. “He’s
a bit old-fashioned when it comes to things like that.”

Scary Guy dismissed my imaginary boyfriend with a flick of his hand.
“Where is he? My boys can take care of him.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m flattered you think I’m worth that
much trouble, but I’m going to pass. I have things to do today.” I
shrugged out from under his hand and took a step toward the back of the room.
The people around us were too wrapped up in the excitement of the Avengers to
pay any attention to my discomfort and shifted to let me through.

Scary Guy reached out to stop me, hooking one meaty hand into the belt at my
waist. I twisted in his grip, and anger mottled his expression. “I
don’t think you understand, bitch. I’m not asking you, I’m
telling you.”

So much for playing the model citizen.

I reached for my knife.

About the Author

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue
dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many
fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but
finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate
was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and
just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then
she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all
with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending
time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing
with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing
guitar, singing and of course, reading.

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Teens & Young Adult, Self-Help, Stress Management

Date Published: May 31, 2026

Publisher: Growth Mindset Publishing

School is stressful, your social life is stressful, and the thought of the future is stressful.

Sometimes it seems as though everything is stressful.

If you’re feeling the pressure from every direction, you’re not alone.

Whether they admit it or not, most teens feel this. In fact, research has found that 83% consider school a major source of stress… and that’s before we even get to social media or your relationships with friends and family.

Since everyone’s dealing with it, you might have thought this is just something you have to live with, but did you know that there are things you can do to fortify yourself so that all the stress, anxiety, and overwhelm can roll off your shoulders like water off a duck’s back?

There are a ton of coping strategies that take no more than a few minutes to perform that will make a really big difference in how you handle it all.

Better yet, you can develop the skills that will make it easier to navigate relationships and social situations so that your anxiety doesn’t get so high in the first place.

You’re about to discover it all in this practical and engaging guide, and you’re bound to start noticing the difference immediately.

Inside, you’ll discover:

• Exactly what stress is, why it happens, and how to catch it early
• ·Simple coping strategies for fast relief in any situation that has your heart racing or your mind swirling
• How to stay present (and why this will make such a big difference)
• What “the white bear effect” is, how it’s affecting your emotions, and what you can do to make all your big feelings easier to handle
• How to rewrite your inner voice, bounce back stronger, and build an inner strength that will carry you through life
• The art of healthy communication (with practical advice for dealing with conflict, setting boundaries, and much more)
• The secret to staying organized without burning out (take the stress out of deadlines and overload)
• Your complete social life survival guide: Make your interactions easier and less overwhelming both on and offline
• What to do when you’re worried that your stress or anxiety is becoming too intense for you to handle on your own
• Fun and practical activities to help you put your new skills into practice right away
• And much more.

If you’ve been told to “just relax” or to stay positive more times than you care to remember, you might doubt that there’s much you can do to make life less stressful and overwhelming. You might even have started to worry that you’re the only one who feels like this.

But how are you meant to relax or stay positive when you don’t know what you need to do to get there?

You absolutely have what it takes to handle whatever life throws at you and bounce back from stress, worry, and fear as though you barely felt it at all. All you need are the right strategies—and you’re about to get your hands on all of them.

Ready to armor yourself for life? Get your copy today!!

About the Author

In his books, Chad explains money, investing, and life skills in clear, practical steps that teens can understand and apply. He avoids jargon and lengthy lectures, instead offering real-world guidance to help readers build confidence, make informed decisions, and plan for their future, whether by saving, investing, or developing long-term thinking.

Chad distinguishes himself by making financial education empowering, practical, and engaging. His writing encourages teens to take responsibility for their decisions, build strong habits, and believe in their ability to succeed regardless of their background.

Chad’s books have become trusted guides for teens and families who want more than just information; they want action, growth, and a better future. If you are ready to build confidence, take control, and create opportunities your future self will appreciate, Chad K. Smith is poised to guide the way. Take the next step today by downloading a free chapter from his latest book or scheduling a family meeting tonight to set financial goals together. This simple action could be the start of your journey towards financial empowerment.

Amazon

Date Published: May 1, 2026

Retired archaeologist Phyllis Doran is enjoying the quiet beauty of the
Arizona desert, until a mysterious crossword puzzle leads her to a trail of
hidden clues. As curiosity pulls her deeper into the puzzle, Phyllis discovers
that some secrets are buried for a reason… and solving this one may
take all her wit and courage.

 M. J. Coss is the author of the Phyllis Doran Mystery series, beginning with
Across and Down in the Desert. Blending puzzle-driven storytelling with richly
detailed settings, his work explores the intersection of history, language,
and human resilience.

Set against the striking backdrop of the American Southwest, his mysteries
follow retired field archaeologist Phyllis Doran as she uncovers buried
secrets that refuse to stay hidden. With a love of wordplay and layered clues,
Coss crafts stories where every answer leads to a deeper question, and every
puzzle carries real consequences.

He is also the author of the Grady the Groundhog’s Maplewood Tales
series for young readers (also available on Amazon), written under the name
C.A. Coss.

Coss lives in Northeast Ohio with his family, where he continues to write
stories that celebrate curiosity, perseverance, and the thrill of discovery.

Contact Link

BookBuzz

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Amazon