Cold Hands by Daniela Alibrandi – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Daniela Alibrandi will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

In Rome, the past never stays buried for long. When a dangerous man, Cold Hands, is released from psychiatric detention and quietly returns to the city, Commissioner Rosco and his team are drawn into a shadowy investigation where old crimes, hidden grudges, and new threats begin to intertwine. Beneath the surface of ordinary lives, secrets fester in hospital wards, along the Tiber, and in the darkest corners of the capital. Seemingly unrelated crimes gradually intertwine within a hypnotic, subterranean world of hidden Rome, mysterious lakes and ancient legends, revealing a larger pattern that is difficult to recognize. As tensions rise, Rosco must protect the fragile happiness he has finally found while facing a menace that knows how to wait, watch, and strike. Atmospheric, gripping, and rich in psychological tension, Cold Hands is a suspense novel set in a Rome of buried memories and lurking danger.
*

Who will read the novel will discover the unbelievable seductive settings, on the shores of Rome’s underground lakes, in which a disturbed mind stalks its prey. They will enjoy this important step in the overall journey of the work, which intertwines serial crimes with murders of a different nature, even with the ancient legends that abound in the Eternal City.

Through the MultiDimensionCrime approach, the novel invites readers to enter a world where atmosphere, emotions, and events become almost tangible, entering the mind of the killer, the desperation of the victims, while investigating with the squad in increasing twists and suspense. The novel, set in the Eighties, is also published as an Extended Book, an innovative publishing format experienced by Morellini Editore, that enhances the reading experience. By scanning the QR code printed on the back cover, readers can explore the locations featured in the story, immerse themselves in its atmospheric world, and listen to a curated soundtrack of 1980s music that brings the novel’s setting to life. A journey that doesn’t end with the last page!

Enjoy an Excerpt

After watching the body vanish beneath the still waters, Cold Hands hurried back. He locked the gate with the padlock and, after making sure not a soul was at the tunnel’s exit, he shut the heavy iron door. The keys were in the dead man’s pockets. Another piece of evidence for the investigators: the orderly had gone down alone, for some mysterious reason.

He climbed the ramp and called the elevator, which, luckily, was free. Everything had gone off without a hitch, and he managed to slip inside before anyone appeared in the corridor—someone was pushing a noisy cart just then. As the doors closed, he caught a glimpse of the iron frame destined for the morgue. He pressed the button for his floor, and the elevator ride went uninterrupted. He stepped out and ducked quickly into the ward bathroom, unseen. He tore the document into tiny shreds, flushed them down the toilet, and went to wash his hands. Only then did a nurse enter.

“Ah, there you are! What brings you to this bathroom? Isn’t yours good enough?” the nurse joked. “Come on, I was looking for you for therapy.”

Cold Hands smiled and followed her.

*

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, but it doesn’t matter. I wanted justice, and in some way, I got it—even if it should have been me to give you death, not him. And I would have done it looking you in the eyes, to remind you what became of her.

About the Author Daniela Alibrandi is the author of successful thrillers and noirs in Italy and abroad. She was born in Rome, and lived and studied in the United States. In her professional life, she has been involved in cultural exchanges within the Council of Europe and the European Union. With her seventeen published novels, a Trilogy, an Anthology of short stories and seven English editions she is a prominent figure in the Italian literary scene. Her writings have often been featured in national newspapers and literary columns on RAI Italian television and radio broadcasts. The author, always present with her novels in the most important national bookfairs, has also won several national literary awards and the 2022 Women Art Week Award for her literary career. Some of her Italian editions are present in Harvard and Yale libraries as well as in New York Public Library.

For years and from various sources, such as literary critics and reviewers, this author’s style has been defined as multidimensional, until it was officialized as MultiDimensionCrime (Acronym MDCrime). A reading experience that forges imagination in a multi-dimensional way. In the complex and intertwined plots of her novels, which lead to sudden and unexpected twists, the characteristics of different strands are harmoniously blended. The reader follows the investigation to solve a murder and at the same time he amazingly enters the mind of the killer, reasoning alongside him, preparing the crime with him, and even partaking in the victims’ despair and terror. All in a growing suspense, both during the narration and in the final pages, when the reader often has to question all the beliefs he has developed during the reading. The settings the author chooses as well as the atmospheres are always amazing and palpable.

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My Take on Critique Groups by Beth Ford – Guest Post and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Beth Ford will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

My Take on Critique Groups

As a writer, putting yourself out there by letting someone else read your work can feel scary, especially the first time you do it. It’s like revealing your heart’s deepest desire for critique. However, critique groups are an absolutely necessary part of the process.

I’ve participated in a number of critique groups over the years. Some have lasted only as long as a writing retreat, some have hung on locally for several months, and some have maintained themselves over Zoom for years. All are valuable.

Critiques are also incredibly useful not just for the feedback you get on your own work but for the process of crafting and listening to critiques of other people’s works. Like many things in life, it’s often easier to see the flaws in someone else’s work than your own. Often, you can also draw parallels between the other piece being critiqued and your own. If a group offers an insight to someone else’s work around dialog, for example, you might recall that the next time you’re writing a dialog heavy scene, or it might even prompt you to revise a scene you’ve been struggling with.

As is the case with other forms of critique from beta readers, editors, etc., part of the challenge is knowing how to respond. Of course, you should always try to accept critique with grace rather than be defensive, as difficult as that can feel. But some of the hardest work comes after the critique, when you have to make a plan for revisions.

When I receive feedback, I generally read through it all first. I might make some initial notes to myself, but I don’t act yet. I let it sit for a couple of weeks. During that time, while I might actively be working on another project, my brain is often spending its downtime working on the problem of how to address the critique so answers start to emerge.

One thing to keep in mind is that you don’t have to address everything. It’s your book and if a point of feedback doesn’t fit with your vision, then disregard it, though you should try to articulate the reason why to make sure it’s not just because you refuse to kill your darlings. If multiple people have provided similar feedback, though, you should think about it carefully. Sometimes, even if you don’t agree with the specific feedback or the solution they’ve proposed, the critique is highlighting an underlying problem. Make sure you understand the underlying problem before discarding the feedback.

I’ll give you an example. The very first book I wrote (which remains unpublished), had an opening line from the main character’s first-person point of view that mentioned him struggling with a duvet. Many people, including agents and editors, told me they assumed the character was a woman based on that first line. How ignorant, I thought! How sexist! Until I asked a non-writer friend what he thought about the line after reading the first few pages, and he said, “I know because it’s mentioned first it must be important so I should pay attention to it.” That was a thunderbolt moment. I realized that what everyone had actually been trying to tell me was that they were struggling to attach meaning to something that I didn’t think was terribly important. That revelation forced me to change the opening sentence so the duvet didn’t have such prominence.

Critique groups are essential part of a writer’s life. You may have to try out a few before you find one that works for you, but don’t be afraid to put yourself out there!

Cassie Woods yearns to be a real journalist. But in 1880s New York City, her only assignments are women’s interest stories. Until, that is, a cookbook author she’s meant to interview goes missing and Cassie finds herself in the midst of a police investigation involving one of the city’s major crime families. Surly but handsome Detective O’Neill threatens repercussions to her career if she continues to interfere. Will Cassie get in over her head or will she save the day and solve the mystery?

This collection contains seven connected stories, each centered on an exciting new case for Cassie to solve while navigating the highs and lows of her relationship with Detective O’Neill.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“A lady reporter?” the policeman at the front desk asked her. “Are you serious?”

“Quite serious, I assure you.” She pointed at the card he held in his hand.

“Anyone could have these printed.”

“Are you going to let me talk to the detective who’s investigating her case or not?”

The man scowled, making his bushy blond eyebrows meet in the middle. Without a word, he walked through a door and out of sight. He returned a few minutes later followed by a fortyish man with strong cheekbones and striking green eyes. The first policeman returned to his duties at the front desk while his handsome superior continued into the lobby. Cassie turned her most charming smile on him.

“Are you the detective?”

“I can’t have reporters interfering in my case.” He spoke in a rough Irish brogue.

Her face fell. Clearly this man was not one to be charmed. “I’m merely asking for information.”

“What does the News Desk want with this story anyway? And why send you?”

“I’m the women’s editor—”

“Women are reading missing persons cases now, are they?”

“I’m simply trying to ascertain where the investigation currently stands. Mr. Walker’s lawyer—”

“What lawyer has he got?”

“Mr. Greene—”

The detective harrumphed. “No good swindler, that one.”

“I’m sure such a description applies to many lawyers you encounter, Mr.…”

The man glared at her. “O’Neill.”

About the Author: Beth Ford writes historical and time travel stories that transport you in time. She is the author of the novels In the Times of Spirits, Love Between Times, Love Across Time, and After the Spirits Come: A Continuation of Dickens’s A Christmas Carol. She also writes the Cassie Woods, Reporter historical mystery romance novella series. Her work has also appeared in a variety of literary journals. She lives in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley of Virginia.

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Unladylike by Regina Louise – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Regina Louise will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Unladylike: A Mythopoetic Reclamation of Love is a lyrical collection of poetry and prose exploring love, survival, embodiment, and the journey of returning to the self. Blending literary poetry with personal reflection, Regina Louise examines relationships, identity, trauma, healing, and the process of reclaiming one’s voice after loss and betrayal.

Through intimate poems and essays, Unladylike maps the emotional terrain between heartbreak and self-discovery, inviting readers into a deeply human exploration of resilience, self-love, and personal transformation. Her work speaks to readers interested in emotional healing, spiritual growth, women’s voices, and the reclamation of dignity through storytelling and creative expression.

Rooted in mythopoetic inquiry and lived experience, this collection moves through memory, desire, grief, and repair, offering language for those navigating change, recovery, and the search for meaning. Unladylike is both an artistic work and an invitation-to witness oneself honestly and to return to what was always there.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Teeth Jewelry

I didn’t take it lying down—
my legs spread eagle, leaking,
like a broke-back Aphrodite,
or Erzulie Freda dispossessed of her longing.

The way you uninvited me
to the wedding—
I’d planned for two months to attend.

Fresh out of a group home,
I was certain I would arrive.
I showed up at your front door.
My hair set in Jada curls—
edges swooped in,
baby hairs laid down—
two hours under a hot-ass dryer
to get them right.

Your brother answered,
fraudulence jutting from his eyes,
said you weren’t home. Yet.
What about the black and champagne
Bentley in your driveway?
Your hubcapped feet, your only wheels.
It belonged to the girl from Baldwin Hills.
Eyes same color as mine.
Her daddy was a doctor.
Yours ran a dojo.

I took my financial aid money,
got myself a crepe de chine
Norma Kamali mini dress—
on sale, sale, sale at I. Magnin.
Fishnet pantyhose.

My first manicure—
to dig desolation from beneath
my dirty fingernails,
just to look respectable.

In pointed-toe flats,

I kicked and scratched my way
through the door,
two stairs at a time.

I followed my knowing into your lair.
My right hook, a javelin.
I threw a punch at your face—
a black belt trophy, barely missed.
You were fifth degree.

My jaw dislocated instantly
from the butt of your palm.

She ran for her life.
I ran into your fury.
And then—
my skin tore
you bit my face,
my arms,
the tops of my hands,
my wrists
my neck,
my bicep,

my shoulders,
the soles of my hands.

Clad in a blusa campesina,
a peasant shirt, off-the-shoulder,
in technicolor—my flesh on parade
fresh with the imprint of your
Central, lateral incisors.
Canines.

I returned to my social work theory seminar.

I wore your teeth jewelry
like a queen.

A gypsy skirt sashayed my hips.

I wore ankle bracelets
with fake gold coins
and fabricated seashells.

Everyone heard me coming.

I returned from Spring Break
baptized in a pain so exquisite,
one might mistake it
or all of who I was.

No matter.

I got my licks in, too.
Not just for me—
but for Tina Turner.
And all the rest of us
who stayed—
wired to do so.

About the Author Regina Louise is a poet, writer, teacher, speaker, executive coach, whose work explores the intersection of memory, belonging, identity, and emotional liberation. The author of three books—two of which have been adapted for film: Somebody’s Someone, Someone Has Led This Child to Believe and Permission Granted: Kick Ass Strategies to Bootstrap your Way to Unconditional Self-Love—she has spent more than three decades helping people transform adversity into authorship through story, self-inquiry, and radical compassion.

A senior teacher with the Hoffman Process, Regina is known for guiding profound conversations about restoring dignity, resilience, attachment, and the art of becoming fully oneself. Whether on stage, in classrooms, behind a microphone, or in intimate workshop settings, she invites audiences to reimagine the stories that have shaped their lives and discover the freedom that awaits beyond them.

Her forthcoming collection, Unladylike: A Mythopoetic Reclamation of Love (September 2026), marks her debut poetry collection. Blending poetry, lyrical prose, and aphoristic reflections, it is a fearless meditation on love, loss, self-possession, and the sacred work of returning home to oneself.

Regina Louise lives in California, where she continues to write, teach, and create work that honors the transformative power of language to restore dignity, deepen connection, and reclaim what has always belonged to us.

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From the Depths of the Stars by C.D. Clark – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. C.D.Clark will be awarding a digital copy of the book to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Jordan Blue works to survive on the oppressive, corporate colony world, Shoar. A random, near-fatal encounter puts her in the company of Kuvett, a space faring creature of the stars. While Jordan tries to figure out the inscrutable Cosmari, Kuvett sneaks about the dilapidated Outskirts to find out just what happened to the planet, what secrets the impenetrable Meritopolis hides, and why it is there.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“What is, then?” Kuvett challenged her with a hardened stare. “Complete obsequiousness to a faceless, parasitic organization that takes and only takes? Or exchanging your very life for security and the mockery of one?”

Jordan clenched her fists as tears spilled, unafraid of the danger she felt herself in. “That’s easy for you to say. You can fly around anywhere and everywhere. I can’t. I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to.”

Kuvett folded her arms. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you really want to leave?” Kuvett inclined her head to the balcony as if to invite Jordan to fly away somewhere else.

“Of course, I do,” Jordan responded as she turned and leaned against the wall beside the doorway, “but I can’t. I just can’t.” Her protests grew more silent as she slid down to the floor and hugged her knees.

With a quiet sigh, Kuvett unfurled herself and floated past Jordan. She looked down, disappointed and agitated. “Then you won’t.”

Jordan peeked through her knees and scowled between tears. “Get out.” Her lip quivered as she turned away, hiding her face behind her arms.

Without another word, Kuvett made her way to the main room. Jordan did not try to stop Kuvett as she opened the doorway to the balcony, leaving the carcass. Jordan closed her eyes and sobbed as the only friend she had made left her alone. Again.

About the Author: From his youngest days, C.D. Clark has always loved stories and the worlds they could take him to. His writing career began with original, fan-based fiction which led to his passion for writing. Over the past twenty-five years, C.D. Clark has developed his craft, all the while celebrating his successes and reveling in any spectacular failures, using them as learning experiences. Ever eager to learn, he continues leaping towards the future while creating fantastic new worlds and passing along poignant messages through his books.

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Duke du Jour by Petie McCarty – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Petie McCarty will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

She’s waiting in the past . . . He belongs in the future.

Jared Langley, present-day Duke of Reston, tumbles into an abandoned fountain on his ducal estate and is pelted back in time to the year 1816. There, Reston servants and local villagers think him a dead ringer for his namesake and rakehell ancestor—the seventh Duke of Reston, gone missing at the Battle of Waterloo. Unfortunately, Seven got mixed up with French spies out to assassinate the Duke of Wellington, and an unwary Jared ends up in their crosshairs.

Lady Ariana Hart has loved Jared Langley, the seventh Duke of Reston, since she was twelve years old, until the night the rogue broke her heart. Given up for dead, her rakish neighbor makes a miraculous return from Waterloo. Only Jared shows up a changed man and reignites all the feelings Ariana had long ago buried.

Jared is in a race against time.
His tasks?

Waylay the suspicions of his quirky servants and neighbors
Get to Wellington before the French spies do
Fix his fountain–before Seven shows up–so Jared has a way home
And definitely do not fall in love with the irresistible Lady Ariana . . .

Second Edition

Enjoy an Excerpt

The sound of hoofbeats and wheels churning came from the path to the old stone stable. Seconds later, what looked to be a perfectly restored nineteenth-century curricle pulled up with a magnificent pair of spirited blacks in harness. The young man driving tied off the reins and jumped down, and Jared could only stare in stunned disbelief.

Curricle Man matched Jared’s height and build and wore scuffed knee-high boots, what appeared to be knickers, and a woolen waistcoat over a loose, long-sleeved white shirt with a linen scarf stuffed in the collar. A wave of dizziness struck Jared again. Curricle Man strode over and bowed.

Bowed?

“Chappy said you were back, Master Jared. So I took the liberty of bringing round your curricle, so you could take straight off to see Lady Wilder.”

This tableau had quickly turned into a nightmare.

“I do this often,” Jared said. The words came out sounding like a question, and he received two incredulous looks.

“As soon as you arrive, Mast—uh, Your Grace. At least, you did on the last few visits before you left for the continent,” Curricle Man offered. “I only thought―”

“Well, do not think. Maybe this visit I choose to be different. I can change.”

Jared got the you-must-be-daft look again. Truth be told, he felt a bit daft since he had not known he owned a curricle and had no intention of driving this one until he learned how. Harness-racing sulkies he knew.

Restored curricles, not at all.

“Begging your pardon, Your Grace,” Curricle Man persisted, “but you always said if you did not go there, Lady Wilder would come here. And you hate that.” The man gave him a wary stare. “Of course, that was more than two years ago.”

Jared’s head pounded in earnest, and he fought off a wave of nausea brought on by the accompanying dizziness. He did not know these people, he had no idea what or whom they were talking about, and he feared a climactic ending to this delusional scene.

“Yes, but this year is—” He had meant to say different, but Cook—who had been strangely silent throughout their discourse—beat him to the punch.

“—Eighteen sixteen, of course,” she said, looking worried. “Are ye sure ye didn’t hit yer head back at the fountain, Master Jared?”

“Eighteen sixteen?” he asked weakly.

“Right,” the two strangers agreed in unison.

Oh, dear Lord in heaven! I am not just named after Jared Langley. I am Jared Langley, seventh Duke of Reston.

Then everything went black.

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

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

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

Visit Petie at her website to get to know her, learn about her current projects, and discover her other published works.

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The CAll to Authorship by Tim W. Lindsay – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Tim W. Lindsay will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click to see the other stops on your tour.

Embrace the call to authorship: 10 steps to leverage the power of a book!

Books help people—they inform, inspire, and engage. Books are also a powerful force for those who write them. Publishing a book builds your authority, sharpens your thinking, and opens doors to media exposure, speaking engagements, partnerships, and more.

Despite the greater accessibility of publishing than ever before, many would-be authors hesitate. They get stuck with self-doubt or believe producing a book is incompatible with a busy life. They may start writing but don’t finish. Or they finish but don’t publish or market their books.

The truth? With a little dedicated time, consistent effort, and the right guidance, anyone can publish a book that changes lives for the better. And they should.

Put down your phone. Take the leap from consumer to creator!

This step-by-step guide will show you how to:
– Use a one-page tool to clarify your goals, target audience and plan.
– Craft an outline that drives your manuscript forward.
– Overcome mental roadblocks and craft habits to finish your first draft in months, not years—even with a busy schedule.
– Select a publishing model, refine your manuscript, and make informed design and distribution decisions.
– Employ promotional strategies to achieve goals that transcend royalties.

Become more than you are. Have courage. Commit to growth by authoring a book, strengthening your ability to serve. Write with purpose. Publish for impact!

Bonus for book professionals: Special content for book coaches, editors, and ghostwriters—those helping ordinary people become extraordinary authors.

Enjoy an Excerpt

We live in an age of swipes, scrolls and soundbites, where attention is fragmented and surface-level engagement is the norm. In such a world, choosing to sit down and write is bold indeed.

Writing a book is an act of meaning-making. It’s how we wrestle with ideas, make sense of experience, and speak into the noise with words that are considered and enduring. It takes courage to believe that your words matter. It takes character to see them through and shape them into a book.

That journey often begins with a spark. Maybe you’ve been through something, built something, learned something—and now you feel the quiet tug: This should be a book.

But with that tug often comes hesitation: Who am I to write this? Will anyone care? I’ve heard those doubts from countless aspiring authors through my work at Tellwell, where we’ve helped thousands turn that first spark into a finished book. And I’ve watched them write anyway. What followed was often extraordinary.

For Cindy Cherry, that moment came unexpectedly. For years she resisted writing a book about her father, Don Cherry, the outspoken hockey commentator who became a household name in Canada. She feared a memoir about her dad might seem biased, or worse, opportunistic. But everything changed when a Google Alert lit up her phone screen: a news organization was praising the Western Hockey League for cutting ties with Don following what she calls “Poppygate,” and for erasing his name from an organ-donation campaign he had helped champion, raising nearly half a million dollars. This cause was close to Cindy’s heart. As a teenager she had donated one of her kidneys to her younger brother.

She realized that the public narrative was being written in a way that dishonoured the man she knew and loved.

About the Author Tim Lindsay founded Tellwell in 2015. Since then, he and his team have guided some 5,000 authors including entrepreneurs, professional speakers, coaches, consultants, experts, course creators, community builders, religious and nonprofit leaders, Indigenous organizations, athletes, influencers, and everyday citizens. Discover more at Tellwellpublishing.com.

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Heidenröslein: The Little Rose on the Heath by Christopher Whittaker – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Christopher Whittaker will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Two men. Two worlds.

One war that will remake them both.

Peter Schiller, a disciplined officer from privilege, is trained to lead—but not for what war truly demands.

Günther Klein, a working-class recruit, is thrown into the trenches and forced to learn fast or die.

In the mud and ruin of the Great War, rank and class begin to dissolve. Orders blur into instinct. Honour bends under necessity. What remains is survival—and the thin, unspoken bond forged between two men who should never have met.

But war does not end when the guns fall silent.

Heidenröslein is a powerful, unflinching story of war, brotherhood, and the quiet, irreversible cost of becoming what the battlefield demands.

Enjoy an Excerpt

1914

The kitchen was small, but it carried the quiet dignity of people who owned little and cared for everything.

Against one wall stood a heavy sideboard of dark timber, polished by years of careful hands rather than luxury. Fine China sat arranged behind glass doors, each piece positioned with deliberate precision. The plates were reserved for Sundays, feast days, or visits important enough to justify the risk of using something fragile. Crystal wine glasses hung above them, catching the weak morning light and holding it in muted amber reflections.

Nothing in the room was fashionable.

Everything in it was treasured.

In the center stood a small round table worn smooth at the edges where elbows, plates, and years of conversation had rubbed away the varnish. The stove and icebox stood side by side beneath the far wall, black iron beside chipped white enamel, both old enough to have become part of the family itself. Beneath the kitchen window ran a long washing trough, damp to the touch, carrying the faint scent of soap, starch, and boiled cabbage that seemed to linger permanently in the wood.

At it stood Frau Klein.

She held a cup beneath the water, slowly moving the cloth around its rim although it had already been cleaned twice over. Her hands worked from instinct now, broad and reddened from years of labour, fingers thickened from kneading dough, wringing cloth, hauling water, carrying coal, and doing every invisible task required to keep a household alive.

She had once been handsome in the soft, rosy-cheeked way of country girls.

Now life had settled heavily upon her.

About the Author: Chris lives in Perth, Western Australia with his wife Dianne.

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The Tale of the Prince and the Spider by Sasha Hopkins – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Sasha Hopkins will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Prince Alexander is a boy filled with courage, laughter, and light, until a chance encounter with a mysterious new “friend” changes everything. Trapped in a web of fear and silence, he must find the strength to fight back against a dark trickster who wants to steal his voice, his joy, and his future.

The Tale of the Prince and the Spider is a modern fairytale for children, parents, and anyone who has faced fear in silence. Told with warmth, honesty, and hope, it reveals how secrets can poison, how love protects, and how even the smallest voice can grow into a roar.

Through Alexander’s journey, readers discover that pain does not define us—courage does. His story is both a thrilling adventure and a gentle reminder that you are stronger than your fears, your voice matters, and you are never alone.

This is more than a tale of princes and monsters. It is a story for every family who longs for healing, resilience, and light in dark times. Beautifully written to spark conversations between children and adults, it invites readers to talk openly about bravery, truth, and the power of standing tall.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Over hills and around turns, sunlight peeked through branches, making shadows dance on the ground—castles, boats, horses one minute, then growling animals the next as clouds sailed on. Alexander stopped by a stream, Menace drinking loudly, and smiled at the light’s game. “I’m not scared of tricks,” he said boldly, his voice cutting through the stillness. One more hill, one more bend—he’d find out what was next.

Excitement buzzed as he turned a corner, the Lost Forest rising on both sides. A dusty path split off, leading to a little house sitting at the woods’ edge—small, bent, its shadow sharp against the trees. Curiosity pulled him—who lived there? With a prince’s daring, he hopped off Menace and walked to the door, his boots crunching the dry ground.

About the Author

Sasha Hopkins is a father of five and a storyteller from Melbourne, Australia. His journey has been shaped by both love and hardship. As a child, Sasha endured trauma that left deep scars, yet he chose not to remain silent or let those experiences define him. Instead, he transformed his pain into a story of courage, resilience, and hope.

He wrote The Tale of the Prince and the Spider during a period of recovery in Western Australia, creating it as a gift for his children, Winter, Hunter, Hudson, Navy, and Orion. What began as a father’s offering of love became a timeless fairytale for families everywhere: a reminder that even in life’s darkest moments, light can be found, voices can be heard, and healing is always possible.

Through his writing, Sasha shares a powerful message: your past does not diminish you, and speaking out is an act of bravery that can inspire others. When he isn’t writing, Sasha is adventuring with his kids, encouraging them to embrace adventure, laughter, and the strength within themselves.

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Deadly Odds 9.0 by Allen Wyler – Spotlight

A trusted ally. A relentless terrorist. An artificial intelligence network racing to uncover the truth. Deadly Odds 9.0 by Allen Wyler blends cybercrime, suspense, and personal stakes as Arnold Gold finds himself fighting a threat that refuses to stay confined to the digital world.

Seattle cyber-detective Arnold Gold has learned that instincts can be as valuable as evidence, and they tell him something is wrong during what should have been a quiet evening with Kara Winston. His fears are confirmed when Rashidi, a patient and methodical terrorist, begins targeting Arnold through the people he values most. The discovery that someone has tried to poison his dog, Chance, signals that the danger has become immediate and deeply personal.

Meanwhile, Gold, Patel, and Associates is struggling with growing internal conflict that threatens to undermine the firm from within. As sophisticated cyberattacks continue to unfold, Arnold turns to SAM, his advanced AI network, to identify those responsible before more lives are placed at risk. With enemies closing in from multiple directions, every decision becomes part of a much larger fight for survival.

Enjoy an Excerpt:

Prickly spider tarsi skittered up Arnold Gold’s spine, causing his shoulders to scrunch together as the hair on the back of his neck became erect. Stopping in mid-sentence, he glanced over his left shoulder—as if he intuitively knew that was the only possible reason for such a strong sensation—but he only saw other diners and the familiar maître’d. Suddenly his eyes locked onto a darker skinned male hurrying toward the front door, the image triggering a sense of foreboding familiarity.

I know him.

Arnold stared at the space the man vacated as the visceral sense of danger subsided. Why did the fleeting image vise-grip his attention with a déjà vu familiarity and instinctive animal fear?

Did he know that person?

Naw, not possible.

Really?

Perhaps, but there needed to be a reason for such sphincterspasming sensations playing hide-and-seek with him these past few days?

“What’s wrong?” Kara asked, obviously alarmed.

Slowly he returned his attention to her. Overshadowed by the familiar restaurant clatter, the spine-scintillations faded like echoes in a canyon. Not just a passing glance—serious scrutiny. But like other episodes of the past few days, he’d seen nothing out of the ordinary when he looked.

He wasn’t just imagining them. They were as real as his right hand. Yet they continued to skitter in and out of consciousness, waxing and waning. His Spidey senses didn’t cry wolf often—they were damned canny.

“Arnold?”

After a quick headshake, he spoke.

“Naw, it’s nothing.” He instantly realized how insincere that sounded. “Really,” he added, and knew immediately he’d only made things worse.

Kara went through an exaggerated show of sniffing the air, then flashed a blatantly insincere smile before saying, “Smell that?”

Furrowing his brow, Arnold sniffed the air. “No. What are you talking about?”

“No? Really? Because I swear I smell bullshit.”

Poof. Just like that, the glow of his first honest-to-god date with Kara Winston evaporated.

As the background restaurant din settled heavily over their table, Arnold scrambled for words to salvage the evening, realizing that the longer he stayed mute, the deeper the hole got—and the harder it was to figure out what to say.

She gave a resigned sigh, then said, “Nothing? Seriously? You’re really a terrible liar, dude.”

Guilty as charged. It was precisely why he never played poker face to face—only online, where opponents could only see his cards.

Now what?

Tell her? Yeah, and sound totally whacko paranoid? Naw, that idea was a non-starter. And, as just proven, trying to bullshit wouldn’t fly. So, where did that leave him?

About the Author: Allen Wyler is a retired neurosurgeon who lives in Seattle. Visit him at his website.

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Cops in Space by Gail Koger – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Gail Koger will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Once upon a time, I was a “normal” teenager. Now I’m a galactic cop with a deadly predator as my boss. I get to deal with flesh eating monsters, alien babies, hunky warlords, space battles and not so bright bad guys. Plus, the fate of the universe rests in our hands. What could possibly go wrong? Did I mention the baby? (It’s a boy).

Enjoy an Excerpt

“Has your father talked to you about the physical differences between a human male and a Coletti?”

“No.” Where was this going?

Uncle Zarek frowned. “Did he explain to you what happens between a male and a female?”

I stared at him in utter horror. Oh, my, God. He wasn’t going to give me the birds and the bees speech, was he? “Relax I had sex education classes in school.”

“Sex with a Coletti warrior is not the same. I need to educate you on our anatomical differences.”

God, just kill me now. “Do you hafta?”

“Yes, I hafta. Some females find our penis frightening.”

A giggle escaped me. “Seriously? Does it have teeth or something?”

“No.” Uncle Zarek rubbed a hand over his face. “Did you notice the slit in Kaelen’s abdomen?”

I nodded.

“We are a warlike race and to protect our ability to procreate, the Goddess placed our appendages in a shielded pouch inside our abdomens.”

Okay. That kinda made sense. “So, kicking a Coletti warrior in the nuts is only going to piss him off?”

“Exactly.”

What was he being so mysterious about? “Ok, what’s so scary about your man parts?”

Uncle Zarek stared at me for a long moment, and an image formed in my head.

My eyes widened in horror as a snakelike penis with a frill of tentacles around the top slid out of a stomach slit. “Tentacles? Are you freakin’ kidding me? What is it with aliens and tentacles? Ewww.”

About the Author I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher for the Glendale Police Department and to keep from going totally bonkers – I mean people have no idea of what a real emergency is. Take this for an example: I answered, “9-1-1 emergency, what’s your emergency?” And this hysterical woman yelled, “My bird is in a tree.” Sometimes I really couldn’t help myself, so I said, “Birds have a tendency to do that, ma’am.” The woman screeched, “No! You don’t understand. My pet parakeet is in the tree. I’ve just got to get him down.” Like I said, not a clue. “I’m sorry ma’am, but we don’t get birds out of trees.” The woman then cried, “But… What about my husband? He’s up there, too.” See what I had to deal with? To keep from hitting myself repeatedly in the head with my phone, I took up writing.

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