I should have known I would end up here...
Give me a good book and I'm in heaven. Especially romance, mystery, mayhem, the fantastic and the fey. Give me a laptop and I'm writing any one of these, and not in any particular order.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Serad is the powerful, handsome pirate whose relentless plundering is the stuff of legend—but only a few know that his true identity is Lord Alexander Wakefield. His kidnapping as a child by Barbary pirates changed the course of his life. Now Serad is the master of the seas, accustomed to possessing whatever—or whoever—he wants.
He Stole Her Freedom…
When Serad boards the vessel La Mouette to loot for treasure, he discovers a cargo more precious than any trinket: the heiress Victoria Lawrence. A raven-haired, emerald-eyed beauty, Victoria captivates Serad as no woman ever has before. But the fiery young lady doesn’t seem to understand that she is now a captive, expected to honor her new master’s wishes and desires without question…
But He Must Win Her Heart
When Victoria set sail from India, she expected the voyage to deliver her into the arms of her betrothed—not a heartless gang of pirates. Now captured, she refuses to bow to any man, even one as commanding as Serad. Sharing his cabin, Victoria can barely resist her attraction to her captor. But if she gives in to her desires, Victoria knows Serad will accept nothing less than her total surrender…
Read an Excerpt
Serad headed back to his cabin. He dismissed the guard at the door and let himself in, only to find his entire cabin in disarray. Fury rocked through him, and he moved threateningly into the room, shutting the door behind him.
“What’s been going on here?” he thundered, his steely gaze fixed on Victoria alone as she stood, straight and proud, behind his desk, her hands down at her sides. He knew the gun was in the locked drawer, and he wondered if she’d found it. He didn’t dwell on that too long, for he still thought of her as a spoiled English lady, who wouldn’t know which end of a gun was which.
“Stay right there,” Victoria ordered, lifting the pistol. “I’m a dead shot and I’ll use it if I have to.”
Serad was angry, and he found it hard to believe that the emerald-eyed, determined woman holding his pistol pointed directly at his heart was the same inane, sophisticated beauty he’d dealt with up on deck.
“Just what do you plan to do with that?” Serad asked in a deceptively calm voice.
“I plan to make you let us go.”
“With one bullet?” His expression turned sardonic.
“One bullet is all it would take to kill you.”
“But after I’m dead, then what?”
“I have no intention of shooting you unless you force me to.”
“I’m relieved to hear that,” Serad mocked, deliberately trying to anger her. There was no way he was going to allow her to reach the deck holding a pistol on him. She was his captive, his slave. It was time she accepted the inevitable.
About the Author:
After working as a department manager for Famous-Barr, and briefly as a clerk at a bookstore, Bobbi Smith gave up on career security and began writing. She sold her first book to Zebra in 1982. Since then, Bobbi has written over 40 books and 6 novellas. To date, there are more than five million of her novels in print. She has been awarded the prestigious Romantic Times Storyteller of the Year Award and two Career Achievement Awards. Her books have appeared on numerous bestseller lists, including the NY Times.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Cynthia Riess will be awarding a set of Art History Mystery Books, Stolen Light and False Light (US only) to three randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour.
Academic sleuths Erika Shawn, art magazine editor, and Harrison Wheatley, a more seasoned art history professor, set out to tackle a brain teaser. This time the couple—married since their encounter in Stolen Light, first in the series—attempt to crack the long un-deciphered code of art forger Eric Hebborn (1934-1996), which promises to reveal the whereabouts of a number of his brilliant Old Master counterfeits. (Hebborn, in real life, was a mischievous sort, who had a fascination with letters and a love-hate relationship with art authenticators. I felt compelled to devise a puzzler on his behalf!) After publication of his memoir, Drawn to Trouble, published in 1991, he encrypts two copies with clues to the treasure hunt. On each of the title pages, he pens a tantalizing explanatory letter. One copy he sends to an art expert; the second, he releases into general circulation. The catch: both books are needed to decipher the code.
When the books are at last united 25 years later, Erik and Harrison are enlisted to help unearth their hidden messages. But when several research aides are brutally murdered, the academic challenge leads to far darker mysteries in the clandestine world of art crime. As the couple navigate this sinister world, both their courage under fire and the stability of their relationship are tested.
Read an Excerpt
Erika would not permit herself to sleep. She gave in to her selfish body only to allow it to lean its skull and spine against the wall as she went over, again and again, the day’s nightmare. Reliving it kept the memory raw; healing, impossible.
There was a light tapping on the door. She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there, only that the scant light in the room had dimmed. There was another tap.
“Miss Erika? May I come in?”
It was Grace. Erika had never heard the woman’s supplicating tone of voice, but who else could it be? “Grace?”
“Yes, Miss. Please, may I?”
A kind of dull curiosity moved her to answer, “Come in.”
Grace opened the door and entered the room. She was holding a tray, bracing one side of it with her forearm. She turned the knob with her free hand and shut the door, then better secured the tray. “I’ve brought you some cream of tomato soup and a muffin. You need some nourishment. Would you turn on the light? You wouldn’t want this old lady to trip, would you?”
Grace’s gentle prodding was so uncharacteristic that it caused Erika to rise to her feet and obey, as if to the command of a hypnotist. She clicked on the wall light and took the tray from Grace.
“Where should I put it?”
Grace scurried to the vanity table and pushed aside Erika’s pads and pens. “Right here is good.”
Erika did as she was told. Grace pulled out the chair from the vanity and reached up to touch Erika’s shoulder. “Now sit and have some soup.” She smoothed her scalloped white apron overlaying her starched black dress and stood there, waiting.
“I’m not hungry, Grace.”
“You don’t want to be hungry, but you are,” Grace said, without budging.
There seemed to be no choice but to heed Grace’s first prompt. Erika sat down. She had no intention of lifting the spoon provided. “Thank you.” She waited for Grace to exit the room.
Grace wasn’t going anywhere. She strode to the desk and dragged the desk chair to the vanity, placing it directly alongside Erika’s chair. She sat down. “You must take care of yourself—for yourself as well as your husband,” she said. “He loves you so. I have never seen him so distraught.”
“Harrison will be fine,” Erika said, staring straight ahead.
Grace shook her head. “Not if you aren’t.” She took Erika’s hand in her own. “I haven’t been very cordial to you. I apologize.”
“Apology accepted,” Erika said, feeling nothing.
“I have no children,” Grace said. “I worked for Harrison’s grandparents for fifty years. I’ve known Harrison all his life, and he is family to me; my only family. He is a dear man, but terribly naïve. It broke my heart to see his first wife take advantage of him. She nearly destroyed him. I was afraid you might do the same.”
“I won’t.” She withdrew her hand from Grace’s.
“I know you won’t. I see how you are with him. I see how you look at him. My prejudice made me blind to this, but now I see.”
Erika turned to Grace. “I’m empty, Grace. Do you see that?” She returned her focus to the wall.
About the Author:
Claudia Riess, a Vassar graduate, has worked in the editorial departments of The New Yorker and Holt, Rinehart, and Winston and has edited several art history monographs.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Gina Briganti will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
She lives life below the waves. What will a man sacrifice to discover it’s not a dream?
Mermaid Velvet has always had a special fascination with the World. And studying its two-legged humans has given the aspiring comedian unique skills to make her audiences laugh. But when she saves a human who believes he’s drowning, she’s stunned by the magic that flows between them.
Saunders is trapped between two realities with no memory of his past. Lost in a strange, underwater domain, he comes face-to-face with an alluring goddess of the sea. When he disappears from her realm, he’s desperate to reunite with the entrancing beauty.
As Velvet continues to bring Saunders out of the darkness, her love for him grows along with her fear that his next disappearance might be his last. And as his memories slowly return, Saunders must decide if he’s willing to leave the World permanently for a chance to be with the mermaid he desires.
Can Velvet and Saunders overcome his terrible fate and sink into each other’s perfect arms? Saunders’ Choice is a standalone novella in the enchanting Natural Gifts fantasy romance series. If you like irresistible attraction, mystery, and love against the odds, then you’ll adore Gina Briganti’s tale of the deep.
*An early version of Saunders’ Choice was published in the Changing Worlds anthology. Buy Saunders’ Choice to dive into an ocean of passion today.
Read an Excerpt
Knowing that she had only one more day to explore that part of the Dreaming, Velvet took advantage and swam out into another new part of the ocean. Here the water was bubbly and warm, a natural hot spring. Velvet relaxed and allowed the bubbles to massage her back and neck.
Domino surprised her by approaching her in a blended form of a water snake and a seahorse. He looked like an extra-long, coiled, seahorse. In the absence of his usual black and white clothing, he colored himself in black and white triangles.
Velvet couldn’t hold her curiosity any longer. “Domino, where do you get your ideas? You always surprise me.”
Domino’s seahorse mouth was able to smile. “They come to me, maybe the same way your ideas come to you? Some pop into my head, already formed. Others I work with until I like what I see. The more outrageous I look, the more comfortable I feel. Creatures stare, but this way I know why.”
Velvet nodded because ideas did come to her in a variety of ways. “Would you like some bubbles?” She graciously offered to move over, even though the spot she was in was prime and she was enjoying it. Domino had sought her out for a reason, and having to cancel their show at Shugey’s might have been hard for him. She reasoned that he would benefit from the bubbles more than she could.
About the Author: Gina Briganti writes fantasy and sci-fi romance in north Texas. She also writes holistic health non-fiction because real life can be magic, too. Her credentials in holistic health include certification as a Reiki Master Practitioner and teacher, certification as a nutrition consultant, and a degree in holistic nutrition.
When she’s not writing, eating delicious healthy food, reading, or making videos, she is spending time with family and friends. Her constant companion is a special soul who masquerades as a lab and chow mix.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. A. R. Kennedy will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Naomi and her estranged sister are off on a trip of a lifetime—an African safari, a bucket list trip for Naomi on which she got a last-minute deal. Naomi thinks traveling with her sister will be the worst part of her African safari until she finds one of their fellow travelers, the unlikable Dr. Higgins, dead. She gets more adventure than she bargained for when she starts investigating what she thinks is murder but the luxury lodge says was a tragic accident. She only has a few vacation days, and a few game drives, to find the killer.
Read an Excerpt
For fifteen minutes, we stood at the conveyor belt, waiting for my luggage to arrive. The constant trail of luggage became a trickle and I began to worry. I had a vision that my vacation slideshow would be me in my Supernatural TV series T-shirt and jeans, with a soundtrack of my sister’s voice saying, “I told you so.”
I glanced at Charlotte. After a fifteen-hour flight, Charlotte had emerged refreshed. I was a little worse for wear. She gave me a dismissive look and I wiped a few crumbs from breakfast off my jeans.
She smiled briefly and the other expression returned.
“You know you look like Mom when you’re annoyed,” I told her.
She glared at me and whipped around. She and her bright pink luggage stormed off. Her pink flowy top wafted over leggings with a black-and-pink chevron pattern. I had to admit, she did look nice. And did not look like she had spent almost a day traveling. I looked down at myself. The same could not be said. My wrinkled black T-shirt and torn jeans, paired with Converse sneakers with tips that used to be white, made me cringe. Nothing about me said glamour.
I didn’t worry about being left in a foreign country by myself. I could find her a mile away with that highlighter pink gear.
I said a quick prayer before turning back to the luggage belt. I exhaled and smiled. She didn’t see the last bag to drop onto the conveyor. My worn tan duffle bag.
About the Author:
A R Kennedy lives in Long Beach, New York, with her two pups. She works hard to put food on the floor for them. As her favorite T-shirt says, ‘I work so my dog can have a better life’. She’s an avid traveler. But don’t worry. While she’s away, her parents dote on their grand-puppies even more than she does. Her writing is a combination of her love of travel, animals, and the journey we all take to find ourselves.
Jo A Hiestand will be awarding a $30 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
Ancestral Whispers
by Jo A Hiestand
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE: Mystery (British)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
Each
year the residents of Nether Haddon celebrate the village’s founding in the
time-honored way with games, music, and performances by their sword dancers.
But something new is added to the fancy footwork this year: a team member dies
… murdered. Fear, jealousy and suspicion quickly engulf the group, emotions
as tightly interlocked as the five swords used in the dance: a series of turns,
jumps and clogging steps intricate as Celtic knots. Was the victim the intended
target, or should it have been someone else? In the course of the CID
investigation, a mysterious 17th century puzzle is discovered. Does it hold a
clue to the murder? Detective Brenna Taylor and her colleagues have more than
enough to worry about. But unbeknownst to her, career criminal King Roper has
escaped from prison where he was serving time for murder. Now free and eager to
settle the score for his capture, Roper tracks down Brenna’s whereabouts, ready
for revenge…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
Mark bent over, silently cursing. No other police officer
could be seen and I didn’t want to stop the shoppers to ask if they’d seen
Delmar Goodfellow running for his life. I was about to suggest we go back to
the car when I saw a person walk away from the corner of Jack Darkgate’s house.
Tapping Mark’s arm, I nodded in the direction of the movement. Goodfellow raced
along the path leading up the hill, but we weren’t far behind him.
The trail plowed through the patch of grassland between
Jonah’s and Jack’s houses, from the lane to the base of the hill. From there it
snaked uphill, alternately hiding and showing itself through the curtain of
trees and boulders. As we came to the hill, I hesitated and glanced up. Late
afternoon already wrapped the side facing us in indigo shadow. Violet-tinted
shapes that could be trees or stones stretched onto the path. A flock of
jackdaws rose from the cliff face, screeching against the sky and wheeling over
the hilltop. I called to Mark to stop. He turned, the look on his face betraying
his annoyance at losing even one second.
“What?” His breathing was loud and deep.
“It’ll be dusk soon, Mark. It’ll be hard to see in the wood.”
Despite his desire to rush on ahead, he glanced to his left.
The wood held the last vestiges of daylight but farther to the west the trees
lost themselves to the anonymity of approaching twilight. He exhaled loudly and
shook off my hand. “I’m going ahead. You don’t have to. I need to catch him.”
Before I could reply, he raced on.
I ran as best as I could, but the rocky path slowed my
speed, and nettles and twigs grabbed at my trousers. Mark evidently took no
notice of this, for he was at least twenty yards ahead of me.
As the path angled upward, it leveled slightly and I made
better time. The soil was less rocky here, although closer to the cliff face,
and I slowed slightly so I wouldn’t fall. Several yards farther on, the trail
veered to the left, leaving the cliff, and I plunged ahead as fast as I dared
go. Mark was in front of me, and though I could see him, it was the sound of
breaking twigs and his shoes pounding the trail that guided me.
Which gave me an idea.
A dozen yards ahead the wood thinned to a small clearing.
The light here was brighter and I could see Mark pause on the other side of a
dead oak. He stood where the path branched and looked at the ground. I jogged
over to him, careful not to step on the twigs and pinecones littering the area.
Holding my right index finger before my lips, I turned my head to my left, listening
for Goodfellow’s mad crash through the trees.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
A month-long
trip to England during her college years introduced Jo to the joys of Things
British. Since then, she has been lured
back nearly a dozen times and lived there during her professional folksinging
stint.
Jo’s insistence
for accuracy–from police methods and location layout to the general “feel” of
the area–has driven her innumerable times to Derbyshire for research. These explorations and conferences with
police friends provide the details filling both her Peak District mysteries and
the McLaren mystery series.
In 1999 Jo
returned to Webster University to major in English. She graduated in 2001 with a BA degree and
departmental honors.
Her McLaren
mystery, BLACK MOON, received the ‘N.N. Light Best Mystery Book’ award for
2019.
Jo lives with her
cat, Tennyson, and way too many kilts in the St. Louis-area.
Roger Peppercorn will be awarding a $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
Author Interview
1. How did you choose your genre? What made you write this book?
Well
they say to write what you know so I’m write crime fiction. Which, now that I
say that out loud sounds bad. I really don’t know much about crime at least not
in the firsthand stance. But I do read a lot about crime, and the commission of
crime. Which again doesn’t sound that good when you say it out loud.
What
made me write this book. After a while it was either sit down and write it or
attach electrodes to my frontal lobe and flip the switch. Again, not like it
sounds out loud like it does in my head.
Kidding
aside I had been working on it for a long time and there was a point where this
story was consuming a lot of my inner dialogue so at some point I sat down and
just let it flow through my fingers to the keyboard.
I
have two new projects I’m thinking about all the time one is the follow up to
my first book which is titled The Sometimes Long Road home which will
have all of the main characters from the first book, It picks up about a year
and a half later.
I’m also working on a new set of characters for a book that right now is called Bearing the Cross. It will revolve around an ex-priest named who still is doing the work of a priest just without the collar. This will be a different kind of crime thriller with a whole new set of characters. But I promise there will enough murder and mayhem to keep you entertained.
2. Writers write what they know, and must observe the world. Are you a first born, middle or last child and how does this shape your view of the world?
Really
good questions, Well, I’m a first born. I have one other sibling who is a cop
oddly enough. Not sure how the order of birth shapes my views of the world but
I spent some years in the service when I was much younger. I have always had a
bit of a wonderlust in me. Always looking to the horizon wanting to know what
is on the other side. After I got out my wondering the earth didn’t stop. I got
a job in telecom that allowed me to work all over the states and some time over
in Europe and of course Canada.
Those
travels probably more that anything else really forged my views of the world.
What you realize after all that time on the road is most places are the same. I
mean everyone has the same priorities which are family, health, food on the
table, paying the mortgage, and retirement. Trying hard not to make the mistakes
of their parents not that they have kids.
Probably that more than anything else is what has formed my views on the world. Maybe get out more go beyond the borders of where you exist. I don’t know I guess that’s probably it.
3. Where is your favorite place to write?
Favorite
place to write is probably in a hotel room while I’m on the road. It’s quiet
without any distractions. Maybe some light music in the background. Yeah
probably that’s my favorite place. Definitely late at night.
I
so wish I could get up throw a pot of coffee on sit down and pound it out. But
that’s not really my writing style. Sometime after eight there is generally
whiskey or beer involved. Normally I’ve been working on a scene or a few scenes
throughout the day and now its time to sit down and write them out. If nothing
else I get the premise of the scene out of my head.
I’m
also big about spreading out. I need a lot of room for the elbows. Now this is
going to sound maybe a bit weird or diva like, but I have this thing about sitting
and writing in one spot for a long time and my arms sweating on a desk so I
will put hand towels under my arms so they don’t sweat. So, nothing to weird or
odd I hope.
I think you definitely need a fairly routine place to create but there are no real rules to writing.
4. How do you feel about killing your darlings, and what do you do with the remains?
Well
when you write murder and mayhem, I suppose you can’t be hung up on some gore. But
and this next part is going to sound preachy. I don’t knock someone off lightly
and there is a bit of the dramatic when it happens. Plus, I think it is a lot
like nudity in film and TV. It should not be gratuitous, and it should serve the
story in a way that moves it along. I also don’t think it needs to be that
graphic which is a bit hypocritical because all of my death scenes are pretty
graphic.
All of my characters make it through the first book but not everyone will make it to the end of my next novel. Those scenes are taking a lot of planning and prep ahead of writing them.
5. You are introduced to your favorite author. Who is it, and what is that one burning question you must ask them?
Well my favorite author is James Lee Burke and probably its going to be about scene setting and his dialogue structure. When he sets the table in a scene it is very vivid to the reader which makes the fictional world he has created another main character. It adds layers to not just the story but also every scene, but it is his dialogue between characters that really stands out. The back and forth between characters and the reactions they have are just so crisp. From a storytelling perspective it’s next level writing.
6. Inquiring minds want to know…tell readers something about you that no one knows.
Ah,
man these are really good questions. Something no one knows. Well for those
that only know me through the dust cover or social media they know a lot. And I’ve
given you a lot in this interview. But to hit the highlights I was born and
raised in Colorado which is convenient since that’s where the book takes place.
I now call South Dakota home, Primarily in the beginning because that’s where
my wife is from and I really fell in love with the area and now four kids, four
dogs, a bird and seventeen years later it’s hard to imagine living anywhere
else.
In
the last couple of years, I have taken up smoking as a hobby, and that’s not
the Mary Jane or Marlboro smoking either. I’ve always wanted a smoker for
things like chicken wings or any other kind of meat. I have perfected smoked
chili and meatloaf that is awesome to say the least.
But
probably the thing they don’t know is I am horrible at grammar. I failed it often
when I was in high school. Right after I signed on with Wallace, I did give
them a heads up this was not my strong suit. Leesa my publisher told me not to
worry because I didn’t own the patent on bad grammar.
So yeah probably that. I suck at grammar.
7. You are stranded on a deserted island with only a backpack for company. What three items are in your survival pack?
Man,
these are really good questions. A backpack for company and three items in my
survival pack. So if this is the genie in the bottle and the obvious like kids
and wife aren’t part of it because obviously you know they would be if I could.
Endless
supply of electricity for a laptop cause you know why not? It’s a deserted
island so I assume there are pirates at some point which means rum so I’m good
there. Of course the electricity could also be used for the smoker. Shoes. Have
to have a really good pair of shoes because in that movie castaway and die hard
that whole not having shoes thing seems like it’s a problem.
So
electricity for the smoker and laptop (came with the talking backpack doesn’t count)
and good shoes.
This probably says a lot about me, right? I may have to come back to this question and change it up so I don’t sound so weird.
8. If you could have one superpower in your existence, what would it be?
Ooh
flying would be nice, No more airports. But then there is transporting so good
news is I wouldn’t have to wear tights and a cape cause nobody should have to
see me in tights and a cape. I kinda like the idea of way super smart. But then
I’m going to be explaining everything and that seems like its going to become a
real pain at some point.
How
about that magic ring to create things? That could be fun but then again there
would be a mask and a hidden identity plus now I’m back to tights but not a
cape. So maybe that doesn’t work out the way I think it does. Which by the way
what is it about capes and tights to the superpower? A bit overdone at this
point isn’t it?
How
about invisible? That could work. I like that idea. Cept at some point it maybe
gets a little creepy right? And then not to mention your out on a date with the
wife and she’s talking to some dude she can’t see and now she has to worry
about getting locked up for mental issues and your kids start to think your
god. So, yeah that’s going to be a problem. Not sure how that works itself out
in the end.
Superpower
in my existence. Can I make one up? Which sounds stupid because that’s not a
thing. By the way and this is off topic I love those shows that hunt for
bigfoot. And the in-camera interviews talking about bigfoot. My kids love those
shows.
How about not being a jerk ever? Always have the right response no matter the situation. You’re a lot more likable, no tights or a cape. Your wife and kids aren’t getting carted off for talking to themselves all the time. I don’t sound like a ego maniac or narcissist. So, I’m going with that. Not being a jerk ever.
9. Favorite snack?
My
daughter got me hooked on those little halo oranges. We eat a lot of those
around the house and even when I’m on the road I generally get a bag of those
and snack on them.
But
if its not the healthy snack then it would have to be those jellybeans that are
covered in the nerd candy. Not sure what they are called or where she got them,
but they are awesome. Love those things.
However,
its hard to beat a good solid corn chip and salsa. And for whatever reason you
can only get the good chips in Mexican restaurants. Why is that by the way?
Can’t
say no to a good chocolate bar though. But if you go that route there should be
peanuts and cherry filling involved. Plain chocolate is good, don’t get me
wrong but if its going to be your favorite then you shouldn’t have to scrimp.
Pudding
is making a comeback in our house. My wife has been getting those little
pudding cups for snacks around the house. I like those.
Another good question.
10. Indy 500 – Do you know how to get where you’re going or do you drive the speed limit?
I
mean it’s the 500 so who cares if you know how to get there and I’m definitely not
driving the speed limit. This has to be Fast and Furious territory here. Like
the only time you get to be nasty on the drive. But your going to need the
soundtrack to really pull this off because otherwise you’re just driving aimlessly
really fast and for not a lot of good reasons.
Could
you imagine driving a high-end sports car on the way there, but you never break
like 45mph? Kind of feels like a crime in of itself.
I
really enjoyed this. Loved the questions. Thanks for the time and opportunity.
RP.
On The Devil’s Side of Heaven
by Roger Peppercorn
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE: Thriller / Crime
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
With the drop of a
judge’s gavel, Walt Walker has finally lost everything. The badge and gun he
used to carry and the moral certainty of right and wrong, good and evil that
used to keep him grounded. Now Walt, sans gun, gets his badges from an Army
Navy store. He spends his days in South Florida, working for a boutique
insurance firm as their investigator. He spends his nights in dive bars, trying
to forget the mess he has made of his life.
Ronald Jacobs always preferred the title Human
Resource Manger to Hitman. But now that he’s retired, he can concentrate on
living in the shadows as a respectable gentlemen farmer. Far from the reach and
pull of his past life.
Their transgressions are behind them but a chance
encounter and a failed assassination attempt sets the two of them on a
collision course of violence and retribution. Hunted by contract killers, the
law, and corporate bag men, they are pursued across the unforgiving adobes and
the sweeping vistas of the Mesa Valley in Western Colorado.
Survival means putting their past in front of them
and their differences aside, because in this world the only thing that matters
is to cast not others on the devil’s side of heaven, lest you be cast in with
them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
A little after midnight on a clear and cold morning in
March, Jimmy Dix parked his car three miles from the farmhouse. From here it
would all be on foot. The sky, dark and overcast, would cover his approach to
the farmhouse situated in the adobe desert, fifteen miles from the little town
of Loma, CO. His target presumably would be asleep and unaware of his impending
death.
Big Max Benson had been clear in his instructions. The job
had to be tonight. Jimmy hadn’t bothered to ask why. Fifteen thousand dollars
had been more than enough to silence any idle curiosity he may have had. And
the promise to convert all the red ink that bore Jimmy’s name in Big Max’s
ledger to black had been the clincher. He had driven fifteen hours in a rental
car he had picked up in a hotel parking lot just outside of Billings, MT. In
the trunk, Big Max had left a cut down 12 gauge shotgun, an AR-15 and a 9 mm
pistol. Each weapon had come with more than enough ammo to do the job. Jimmy
had brought along his own set of NVGs for the nighttime raid.
He sat in the car, staring out the windshield, thinking about the three mile hike he had in front of him. The car heater was cranked up to high. The dashboard clock read 12:02; the hike would take him about an hour. He thought about the task at hand. After he arrived, he would need probably thirty minutes to scout his final approach plus maybe another fifteen to twenty minutes to get set up. Maybe another five minutes to carry out the job. Jimmy did the math in his head and figured that worst case scenario, he would be back in the car no later than 4 a.m. This would leave him more than enough time to get clear of the area. Jimmy smiled at the thought of coming in under the cover of darkness, killing someone and then leaving under the same veil before any cops showed up.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Roger
Peppercorn has suffered for the better part of his life from wanderlust and
this need to see the other side of the horizon has taken him to all parts of
the world. The people and backdrop of his travels have served as
the inspiration behind his characters and storytelling.
As a
child, his mother taught him to read and write. His father’s collection of
Louis Lamour novels provoked the fantastical images in his mind and the romance
of the written word. In the seventh grade, his history teacher brought the
characters of a bygone era alive. From that point on, Roger began to hone his
skills in storytelling. After high school, Roger took a course in creative
writing that was taught by a long haired hippy in a Hawaiian shirt.
Roger’s
grandmother used to tell hypothetical tales of traveling across the plains in a
covered wagon, the woes of having a son sent off to war, and the
larger-than-life man she met at Pea Green Hall who later became her husband.
His
first two novels “On The Devils Side of Heaven” and “The
Sometimes Long Road Home” take place on the western slopes of Colorado, in
the sleepy town of Fruita, where he grew up. They center on the strained
relationships and sorted histories of three characters – Walt, Ronald and
Jessica, and violence that erupts around them.
Roger
is married and is a father of four beautiful children. He currently calls South
Dakota his home.
David Siegel Bernstein will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
Author Interview
1. How did you choose your genre? What made you write this book?
Before I answer this wickedly deep question, I
want to thank Danita Minnis for inviting me here (virtually).
I chose to write a mystery because I enjoy thinking
up the perfect crime and fictionally getting away with it… almost. It is all
about creating puzzles that appear unsolvable. My heroes struggle to a solution
and sometimes, if you pay close attention in my stories, so will you.
I also enjoy writing quirky characters, and
mysteries are especially conducive to quirk. In what other genre could Nero
Wolfe solve crimes while never leaving the house and sipping his afternoon
beer? Where else could Ms. Marple snoop as she knits away without being confined
to a rest home? Where else could Hercule Poirot wax his mustache as his little
gray cells solve a crime? Where else could Holmes, you know, be Homes? Of
course, my characters in Poisoned Pawn are much quirkier and better than them.
I’ll let you in on a secret. Another reason I enjoy about writing a mystery: I like catching the baddie.
2. Writers write what they know, and must observe the world. Are you a first born, middle or last child and how does this shape your view of the world?
I’m a first born so I’m the heir apparent. I view the world as mine. Now that I think about it, so does the villain in Poisoned Pawn. Coincidence?
4. How do you feel about killing your darlings, and what do you do with the remains?
Read Poisoned Pawn. It is a challenged
NOT to be killed. When you read Poisoned Pawn, I think you can guess
which darling’s demise I most regret with. I’m still doing tequila shots to get
over the killing.
In general, I keep my “cut” prose and characters in a virtual file for possible future use. I hate cutting material I spent a lot of time on. I guess that makes human. Who knew?
5. You are introduced to your favorite author. Who is it, and what is that one burning question you must ask them?
It is a toss-up between Harlan Ellison and Neil Gaiman. Since Ellison is dead, and if he weren’t, he would probably yell at me about something, I’d ask my question to Gaiman. The question would be how I get into graphic novel writing.
6. Inquiring minds want to know…tell readers something about you that no one knows.
I’m assuming the answer should be PG, so I’ll tell you I’m a Dr. Who fanboy.
7. You are stranded on a deserted island with only a backpack for company. What three items are in your survival pack?
I’d choose the book War and Peace by Leo
Tolstoy. It would be the only time I’d be able to get through it. A satellite
phone, so I can call for help after I gave up on War and Peace. And
beer.
8. If you could have one superpower in your existence, what would it be?
To be able to speak any language upon hearing
or reading it. This includes computer programing languages.
9. Favorite snack?
Fritos and dark chocolate, but not at the same time. I need dark chocolate hourly.
10.
Indy 500 – Do you know how to get where you’re going or do you drive the speed
limit?
Read Poisoned Pawn and you will see I’m not afraid of overdrive! Sometimes I even get where I’m going.
Poisoned Pawn
by David Siegel Bernstein
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE: Detective, Mystery
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
Caleb Jacobs is a man with a past. After serving on a failed dark ops assignment in Afghanistan, he leaves Marine Corps Intelligence to try to build a new life in Philadelphia as a homicide police detective.
Jacobs is happy, for a time, until he is assigned to solve the murder of Shannon Faraday. During the investigation, he is convinced the evidence points to him as the killer. He knows it is only a matter of time before other investigators see the same. He has no alibi and the clock is counting down.
Behind his partner’s back, Jacobs hires a private investigator named Lawrence Holmes. The PI is an irritation to the police, but he is unmistakably brilliant. And, many powerful people in the city owe him favors. Holmes is a bit odd. He insists on calling Jacobs Watson but claims to never have heard the name Sherlock. Jacobs can live with this kind of crazy as long as together they find the real killer.
They quickly link the murder to a series of seemingly unrelated crimes occurring throughout Philadelphia, and Jacobs becomes convinced the murder is related to the truth of what had happened during his time in Afghanistan. Old secrets have come back to haunt him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
I felt like shit for having to hire a private investigator,
especially one who was most likely insane. Still, I couldn’t deny that his type
of crazy got results. Reluctantly I handed over an envelope to the man sitting
on the sun-bleached bench.
He opened it. Satisfied with my offering, he slid it into
his jacket. “Ah, Watson,” he said. “Good to see you again.”
I shook my head and dropped onto the bench next to him. “My
name is Jacobs. Caleb Jacobs,” I said, hoping the reminder might stick this
time.
He turned to me. “Did you say something?”
I sighed. “No, Holmes.”
If I wasn’t desperate for his help, I’d strangle him. Of course my superiors at the Philadelphia Homicide Unit wouldn’t appreciate that. But I wondered if a cop hiring a private investigator was any worse of a violation. I needed Lawrence Holmes for his connections and unique viewpoint, things my PHU colleagues couldn’t provide. He might not be the fictional character he played at, but he was a talented PI.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
To support his writing addiction and excessively extravagant
lifestyle, David Siegel Bernstein, PhD, is a data scientist who consults as a
forensic statistician. That sounds really boring until you realize that his
clients include the US National Security Agency (NSA), the Secret Service, the
FBI, the Department of Justice (DOJ), and a host of other acronymonious
agencies who cultivate exciting and shadowy reputations. Alas, those
reputations are mere facades that disguise the real reason these organizations
exist, which is to keep him entertained and fed.
When David wants a break from this spellbinding work, he writes.
His fiction credits encompass two novelettes and sixty shorts. His nonfiction
has appeared in newsletters, popular blogs, academic journals and he is the
author of the book Blockbuster Science: The Real Science in Science Fiction.
He lives within the shadow of Philadelphia with his wife,
Michelle, two children, Seth and Gwendolyn, and a dog named Ringo Biggles
Woofington.
Kimberly Daniels will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
Author Interview
1. How did you choose your genre? What made you write this book?
I love to read both contemporary and young adult romance, so these types of stories just swim around in my head all the time. I figured it was time to start letting them live on paper. This book is special because it continues the first story I ever published, Lost Until You and allowed these characters to live a little bit longer.
2. Writers write what they know, and must observe the world. Are you a firstborn, middle or last child and how does this shape your view of the world?
I am the youngest, only having one older brother. I can definitely say that since he is three years older than me, I was able to first watch him make decisions and mistakes. I can definitely say he paved a more direct route in life for me.
3. Where is your favorite place to write?
I
love to write in bed. I stack all the pillows I can find behind me and prop myself
up. I do best when I am comfortable.
4. How do you feel about killing your darlings, and what do you do with the
remains?
I work like a Mafia Boss – don’t ask, don’t tell. But the swampy marshes around New Jersey bays would hide remains!!
5. You are introduced to your favorite author. Who is it, and what is that one burning question you must ask them?
Colleen
Hoover is my favorite Romance author. I really would love to ask her how she’s
able to produce so many stories, yet keep her ideas so fresh.
6. Inquiring minds want to know…tell readers something about you that no one
knows.
I can write cursive with my toes. Gross, but kind of cool at the same time!
7. You are stranded on a deserted island with only a backpack for company. What three items are in your survival pack? My iPhone, Diet Dr. Pepper, and York Peppermint Patties
8. If you could have one superpower in your existence, what would it be?
I
would want to be invisible. I would love to witness things with never being
seen. I could watch history in the making!
9. Favorite snack?
If I’m going salty, I lean toward Cheez-its. If it’s my sweet tooth, I going soft-baked chocolate chip cookies.
10. Indy 500 – Do you know how to get where you’re going or do you drive the speed limit? I live in the country where you get pulled over for going just eight miles over the speed limit, so I definitely drive the limit.
Saved by You
by Kimberly Daniels
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GENRE: Contemporary Romance
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
Cole
Stevens thought he was finally given a second chance in life. With the woman he
always loved now by his side, an adopted son who felt like his own since the
day he met him, and a baby on the way, Cole could finally see his forever. And
then his past showed up on his doorstep, threatening to take it all away.
Now forced to relive painful memories and bring dark secrets to light, Cole begins a downward spiral that leads him back to the place he spent years trying to escape. As the pain of his past collides with the present, he finds himself lost again, fighting for his family’s future. How can he find the way back in time for his forever to be saved?
Excerpt:
I let go of him and he falters back. Dusty wraps his arms
around me to pull me back and Camryn is begging me to stop. Her voice
registers, sinking through the fury that just consumed me, and my head snaps up
realizing where I am. Camryn’s hands are over her mouth and I can see her
fighting back tears. And that’s when I see him, my little superhero, crying and
shaking at Camryn’s side. My sweet little boy, my Gavin—how could I let myself
get to this point?
I reach out to him and he shudders back, sinking into Camryn
even more. At that moment, my heart shatters, seeing that my son, the one I
vowed to protect, is afraid of the menace I just became. My gaze travels to
Camryn and I see the pain in her eyes, which I am sure I put there. “Take him
home, away from me.”
She reaches her hand and grasps my wrist, pulling me with
her. “Come home with us.”
I pull my hand away and begin to back away from them. “Take him home without me. Right now, he’s afraid…of me.” I can’t bear to stay here and look at what I did to Gav and Camryn, to see that the old Cole has never really left. I rush off the beach, away from my family, the ones I disappointed again with my thoughtless actions. I try to grasp the realization that I’m no longer the superhero Gavin once thought I was. Today, I became the villain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Kimberly Daniels is a middle school English Teacher who took the advice of her students to pursue her writing hobby as a career. When she’s not at her laptop dreaming up new happily-ever-afters, she can be found glued to the TV or Kindle consumed with a new show or book addiction. She lives with her husband and two daughters in the suburbs of Philadelphia, spending weekends at basketball games, softball fields, and dance recitals.
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions for AUSTRALIA BURNS, three collections published by The Wild Rose Press for a very special purpose. Stories in this collection are contributed by authors who care about Australia and the relief efforts from the devastating bushfires. All profits from the book will be donated to charities involved with the recovery efforts. The publisher and authors are not affiliated with the charities. They simply want to show Australia their love and support. The books will be available on February 14, but are currently available for pre-order. Enter the Rafflecopter for a chance to win a $10 Amazon/BN GC.
Volume 1
Stories in this collection are contributed by authors who care about Australia and the relief efforts from the devastating bushfires. All profits from the book will be donated to charities involved with the recovery efforts. The publisher and authors are not affiliated with the charities. They simply want to show Australia their love and support.
A collection of Short Stories in Mainstream Fiction, Women’s Fiction, Thrillers, and Mystery
A Solicitous Wife by Madeleine McDonald
No One Knew by Larry Farmer
Pinochle by Brenda Whiteside
The Tuesday Night Meeting by Peggy Jaeger
911, What’s Your Emergency? by D. V. Stone
Tall Tales by Laura Strickland
Fare Gain by Alexandra Christle
The Note by Stephen B. King
Three Ghosts by Julie Howard
Detective Paws and Lip Gloss by Maureen L. Bonatch
The Ring by Margaret Ann Spence
Portrait of a Gunfighter by Hywela Lyn
Six Hours or So by Lisa Wilkes
Prussic Acid by Melody DeBlois
Volume 2
Stories in this collection are contributed by authors who care about Australia and the relief efforts from the devastating bushfires. All profits from the book will be donated to charities involved with the recovery efforts. The publisher and authors are not affiliated with the charities. They simply want to show Australia their love and support.
A collection of Romance, Young Adult, and Women’s Fiction Short Stories
Che Gelida Manina by M. S. Spencer
Recipes for Love by Carol Henry
Waiting for Caleb by Gini Rifkin
Wings of Fire by Jana Richards
A Lark by Gabbi Grey
Apple Crisp by Terry Graham
Goody Twoshoes by Mark Love
The Number by Barbara Bettis
Deadly Homecoming by Peggy Chambers
An Egg-Cellent Witness by Marilyn Barr
Season of Withered Corn by Judy Ann Davis
Beneath the Pines by Debby Grahl
Christopher Reisner by Linda Griffin
Unexpected Love: Chase Allen by Anna Lores
The Cowboy and the Lady by Jean Adams
The Heart Necklace by Amanda Uhl
The Relaxation Response by Darcy Lundeen
Dancing Through Tears by Jeny Heckman
Volume Three
Stories in this collection are contributed by authors who care about Australia and the relief efforts from the devastating bushfires. All profits from the book will be donated to charities involved with the recovery efforts. The publisher and authors are not affiliated with the charities. They simply want to show Australia their love and support.
A collection of Paranormal, Horror, and Sci-Fi Fiction Short Stories.
The Pilot’s Son by CJ Zahner
The Vengeance by Rhonda Gilmour
A Climb to Kill by ML Erdahl
Born of Fangs by Sydney Winward
Johnny Appleseed by Robert Herold
Rebellion in Slot III by Roni Denholtz
Home, Sweet Mobile Home by Alana Lorens
The Filthy Human by Tori V. Rainn
Baby Daddy by Kerry Blaisdell
The Witch of Calico Island by Cat Dubie
Stained-Glass Vision by Mary Morgan
A Witch’s Protocol by Tena Stetler
I Choose Life by Kristal Dawn Harris
Together Forever by N. Christine Samuelson
Where Is Your High School Sweetheart? by Donna Kunkel
Lost and Found by Joanne Guidoccio
Nursery Chimes by D.S. Lucas
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. J.M. Adele will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
We were connected in more ways than one—I knew it when we met. What I didn’t know was how close he would bring me to death. And that death would be a blessing.
Andrea has always been able to tap into messages from somewhere beyond. When she meets Ben, an unrelenting force draws them together. But it’s going to take some convincing to help Ben realise their potential. Ben never thought his friend’s little sister would be anything more than a nuisance. He was wrong. She’d always been so much more. And now, their bond could be severed and her pulse silenced forever.
*Recommended for readers 18+ due to mature content.*
Read an Excerpt
“You’ve gone quiet. What’s wrong?”
I flicked a glance at his nose, knowing that if I looked him in the eye he might see something I wasn’t ready for him to see. Something I was trying to understand for myself before I admitted it to anyone else. I wouldn’t be admitting it to him, that was for sure.
“Hm? What? No, nothing. I’m just hungry.” I hid my hands under the table. Way to play it cool.
One of Ben’s brows inched up.
Tapping a finger on the edge of my seat, I ignored the weight of his stare. The silence was like a wedgie that I couldn’t get rid of.
I cleared my throat and aimed for casual conversation. “So, are you a league convert yet?”
He scoffed. “Never. I was only helping out a friend.”
“If you hate it so much, why’d you do it?”
“I don’t hate it. I’m just loyal to my code.”
“Plenty of players switch.” I picked my brain trying to remember the names Dad had said at the game. “Like, you know, that guy, The King. What’s his name?”
“Wally Lewis?”
“Yeah, him.” I think. He was the only player I could think of.
“Just ’cause The King switched doesn’t mean I have to.”
“Fair enough.”
Ben stood by his convictions. I liked that. My eyes drifted sideways in a bid for some reprieve from his gaze. Two tables away, the boys were slapping each other’s hands, doing some customised shake thing, and laughing like loons.
“They’re good mates.” Ben’s comment brought me right back to those crystal blues.
“They are.” I tilted my head. “Why are you friends with my brother? Seriously?”
His lips quirked. “Stewart’s all right.”
“He’s different with his friends, I guess.”
He hooked an arm behind his seat, twisting his chest towards me. “I know he can be a dick sometimes. He has a weird way of getting attention. He means well.”
The fact that he was defending my brother endeared him to me even more.
“Do you play any sport?” Ben scratched behind his ear like he was uncomfortable talking about Stewart.
I was happy to change the subject. “I dance.”
“You dance?” His brows rose as he leaned back a little. “Like ballet?”
“God, no. I’m not graceful enough for that. Hip-hop is my thang.”
“Your thang?”
“Yeah. Like this.” I jumped out of my seat and gave him a demo—legs popping, arms locking, all while Nelly Furtado and Timbaland sang about promiscuity in my head.
His mouth dropped open and his eyes bugged out.
Am I that bad? I slid back onto my seat, heat infusing my cheeks.
“You’re good.”
Pulling my shoulders back, I puffed out my chest. “Thank you.”
“No, I really mean that.” He blinked, swallowing.
I relaxed against the back of my chair. Sincerity. Another tick on the list of his good characteristics. I was sure there had to be some negatives.
I already liked so many things about him. His commitment. His discipline. His arse. But if I told him, I’d scare him away. He wouldn’t get it. Not for another few years at least. I wasn’t sure how I knew that either. I just did. The thing was, I didn’t understand how or why it was going to take a few years. And that worried me. What was about to go down that I’d have to wait so damn long to have him by my side?
The air grew so thick, my lungs had trouble dragging it in. I shuffled my butt, fighting against the unbearable tug urging my eyes to connect with his. “It was nice of you to help out the opposition, even though they couldn’t find a uniform that fit you.”
He placed his arms on the table, his elbow bumping mine. It was the final yank in the tug-of-war. My gaze snapped to his crystal blue stare.
A hint of a smirk played on his lips. “It’s no biggie.” Deliberately bumping my elbow again, he set his grin free.
He’s laughing at me! My mouth popped open before clamping shut.
The rest of our group approached through the glass, trays in hand. Their arrival would mean the end of our conversation. Last chance to make an impression. “Yeah, you’re right. Their team lost. You were no help at all. I don’t know why Dad whinged that you’re not a league player. Seriously, you sucked. Stick to what you know, Benji.”
Ben’s grin dropped off his face, and his eyebrows jumped high as he barked a laugh.
Like idiots, we grinned at each other, and something more passed between us. That thing that I couldn’t yet define, but saw behind the gaze reflecting back my smiling face. It was so familiar. I’d seen it before. I knew it.
Unbelievably, his face aged ten years in ten seconds. Suddenly he was a man with the beginnings of wrinkles fanning from his eyes. And I was … huge. I checked myself out. A wedding ring dug into my swollen finger. My stomach was round and full. And moving. We were both naked. Naked!
My gaze snapped back to his, finding his face in transition again. Light reflected off his bright blue irises, splitting into a prism of colour before swirling and blending into a muddy dark brown. A colour that could swallow you whole if you let it.
“Emmeline.” I saw his mouth move, but it wasn’t Ben. I was staring at a young man with scruffy brown hair, sweat and dirt smeared on his neck. “Emmeline,” he pleaded.
Who was Emmeline? Who was he?
About the Author:
Author of smart, sexy characters, J.M. Adele loves to flit between the dark and light sides of romance. Somewhere along the way an almost constant procession of imaginary characters settled into her thoughts and she picked up a pen to share their stories.
She lives in Queensland with her three greatest loves, her children. When she’s not writing or being a mum, you might find her hiking up a mountain, singing in the car when nobody is looking, or curled up with a good book.
