Advice for New Authors by p.m. terrell – Guest Blog and Giveaway

May 29, 2026 By 2 Comments

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

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My first nonfiction book was published in 1984, and my first fiction book in 2002. I’ve seen a lot of changes in the publishing industry over the years, including book chain mergers, the rise of digital media, and the mainstreaming of self-publishing.

However, one factor remains constant: write the best story you can.

Before committing to a story, do some market research. This will prevent you from writing a story that nobody will care about. Take classes and learn from everything you read. I often learn the most from terribly written stories, as it shouts to me what not to do. Make the characters multi-layered and complex, even if they are minor characters. Write the setting so the reader feels as if they are there, standing in the middle of it. Make the events that occur resonate with the reader. Create a story that is unforgettable.

The days of a rough manuscript being discovered in a slush pile and polished to perfection by a team of editors are long gone. The largest publishers have replaced the slush pile and interns with third-party literary agents who will only recommend stories that are near-perfect and about which they are passionate. They have become the gatekeepers for the pinnacle of publishers.

There is an ever-growing number of small- to midsize publishers. Do your homework; some are better options than the largest publishers, while others are individuals in a spare bedroom.

Do not rely on family or friends to tell you how great your story is. Get the best editor you can afford. Every punctuation mark and every sentence structure must be perfect. I am comma-challenged; I was taught throughout my school years to place a comma anyplace where I take a breath. Apparently, I breathe at the wrong times. A good editor will catch each one.

If you plan to self-publish, you should understand that there is a world of difference between being a writer and being a publisher. Simply uploading your book online won’t sell it. Learn as much as you can about the publishing industry, marketing, and advertising online and off.

Often, traditional publishers and moviemakers will pay attention to self-published books that are rising in various bestseller lists. The more you understand about the industry, the better positioned you will be for success.

Padlocked is an epic historical and visionary novel that follows the lives of a group of ordinary people who find themselves in extraordinary, life-altering circumstances as Nazi Germany invades Poland in 1939.

Two foreign photojournalists, an American and a Spaniard, are trapped between armies at Festungsfront Oder-Warthe-Bogen, along Poland’s western border with Germany. It is Hank’s last overseas assignment, and he’s been counting the days until he can go home to North Carolina to be with his family. Rafe fled Spain after the dictator, Francisco Franco, targeted his family. The experience changed him, and he now sees the rise of fascism in Europe as a battle between good and evil. They will find themselves embedded with the Polish, Nazi, and Soviet forces at varying times, forcing them to face moral and ethical decisions in their struggles to survive.

A young woman is separated from her sister in Warsaw as the Nazis encircle it. Agata made a vow that she would return to take Elsa to safety, but soldiers and barbed wire prevent her from entering the newly established Jewish sector. She is consumed with guilt over their separation, and when she discovers her sister was taken by train to a work camp near Krakow, she navigates her dangerous, war-torn country in search of her. Her quest will force her to confront a Hell on Earth to find her.

A young man joins the Jungdeutsche Partei, or the Young German Party. Once bullied as a child, Max’s new affiliations promote him to a position where he can dictate life or death and settle scores. In order to thrive under Nazi occupation, he makes daily choices that legitimize brutality and erode humanitarian principles and scruples.

While they don’t know one another at the start of their journeys, each will make decisions that have the power to transform them and place them on paths that ultimately converge on January 27, 1945, as the 60th Army of the First Ukrainian Front opened the gates to Auschwitz-Birkenau for all the world to witness.

This is ultimately a story about the strength of love, courage, faith, and resilience in the face of unimaginable hatred and obsession with power, and how every decision we make places us further along specific paths.

Enjoy an Excerpt

The throngs pushed her this way and that, so she felt like she was attempting to run through thick mud. She made slow progress, and yet, something inside her propelled her forward. She reached the end of the block to find cars racing past, ignoring intersection rules, and she hesitated to get her breath. Someone from behind pushed her to the ground, stomping over her dress as she lay prone, scores of feet scuffling over her while she tried vainly to rise.

A hand reached through the crowd. Amidst the shouting, his words were louder and deeper than the others. “Get back!” he shouted as he grasped her by the waist and hauled her to her feet. “Get back!”

As the mob stepped back and then rushed forward in another direction, the man pulled her away from the others. It was easy to see why the crowd had obliged him and given her space. He was a soldier in the Polish Army, his cropped, sandy hair almost hidden beneath a crisp cap bearing the Polish White Eagle. His trim figure was clothed in an olive uniform, and he wore a wide black belt and knee-length black boots.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Fine, thank you.” Agata wiped her hair off her forehead and was surprised to find pebbles from the ground in her hair.

“Where were you going?” he asked.

“I—” She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“The school—”

“No. I need to leave the Jewish sector. I need to be across town.”

“Is that where you live?”

Agata looked around her in impatience. “I am wasting time here. Thank you for assisting me to my feet, but I must go. The Germans—”

“The Germans are coming,” he finished. “And we are digging in. You will be safe if you remain in Warsaw, Jewish sector or no.”

“Then, thank you, and good-bye.” She turned to run, but he held out his hand and stopped her.

“Do you have an address where you are going? I have a motorbike. I can get you there faster than you can run.”

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere right now? Like, fighting the Germans?”

He laughed so unexpectedly that Agata was shocked. “There will be time enough for that, don’t you worry. My name is Piotr. Come. My motorbike is over there, on the opposite corner.”

As Agata rushed across the busy street with him and settled behind him on the motorbike, she took a long look at the school down the street. It was difficult to know what was happening as people rushed in all directions at once. Her eyes fell on the top step, at two figures holding one another so tightly they appeared as if they might be one. A tear rolled down her cheek as the motorbike zoomed to life, and she held onto Piotr as they took off. Soon, the people blended behind them while the memory of Ira and Elsa on the step seared into her mind. “I will be back tomorrow,” she thought. “I will be back, just as I promised.”

About the Author: My full name is Patricia McClelland Terrell, and I have been writing under the pen name p.m.terrell ever since a publisher presented me with my first fiction book cover. The graphic designer had also entered my 026/05/author-image-3-239×300.jpg” alt=”” width=”239″ height=”300″ class=”alignleft size-medium wp-image-132842name in lower-case letters; my editor hated it, and I loved it. It’s been p.m.terrell ever since.

I began writing when I was nine years old, inspired by a schoolteacher and elementary school principal. Scott-Foresman published my first book, a computer instructional for universities, in 1984. Scott-Foresman, Dow-Jones (Richard D. Irwin branch), Palari Publishing, Paralee Press, and Drake Valley Press have published 27 books to date.

Before embarking on a full-time writing career, I founded McClelland Enterprises, Inc., in the Washington, D.C., area in 1984, specializing in workplace computer instruction. I opened another business, Continental Software Development Corporation, in 1994, which focused on custom application development, programming, website design and development, and cybersecurity.

I was honored to be the first female President of the Chesterfield County/Colonial Heights Crime Solvers. Since moving to North Carolina, I served on the boards of the Robeson County Friends of the Library and the Robeson County Arts Council.

I launched The Book ‘Em Foundation with Waynesboro, Virginia, Police Officer Mark Kearney, and assisted in Virginia, New Hampshire, and South Carolina events before establishing the Annual Book ‘Em North Carolina Writers Conference and Book Fair, chairing it for several years before turning it over to Robeson Community College in Lumberton, NC.

Padlocked is available in all eBook formats, trade paperback, hardcover, and large print editions.

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My Writing Process by Jessica Rakus – Guest Post and Giveaway

May 6, 2026 By 2 Comments

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

I started writing as a teenager, the summer before I started high school. It was a magical time where I could write instead of paying attention in class, bring my notebook to my evening job at Walmart and jot some lines when things were quiet in the fabric department, and stay up until three in the morning reworking random scenes. Those were the days!

Now, in my mid-forties, with two busy kids, finding a single moment to even breathe is special. Hearing my own thoughts, let alone the thoughts of my characters, is a bonus.

This has obviously changed my writing process – I take the chance to write any time I can get it, including jotting down a few lines on my phone or writing on the back of a receipt I dug out of my purse. But since that becomes a disaster, I have to corral myself a bit.

I’m very much a pantser when it comes to writing, so while I have a general idea of where I want the story to end up, I mostly just let the characters get there how they want (or sometimes they end up somewhere completely different, and that’s okay). This means I can’t just write scenes willy nilly as they come to me. This has ended up in so many situations where I write a scene I love, and I can’t make it fit with where the story starts going, and then I have to set that scene aside and just read it by myself and think of what could have been. I have to write the whole story in order, beginning to end. Once that’s done, I can slow down and go back in and find moments that need more and let myself toss random lines in, or remember that I really wanted a scene where two of my characters meet for the first time simply because I think that moment would be funny, even though it doesn’t serve the plot, given that the whole story happened without it.

I do find that I hit a wall around the 75% finished first draft stage, which I think is tied to writing the story start to finish – I would argue the 75% mark of most books is where the book hits a wall. It’s usually a moment of calm before the storm that is the climax of the book. The climax is the fun part! The part where everything is going well for the characters is boring! Let’s ruin their lives, come on! But all in all, this process works for me, and it got me here to Haven Strong. I hope you love the book, and the journey they took me on.

Josephine Grant lives a charmed life – a husband, three perfect children, strong bonds with family and friends in the small town where she’s lived her entire life. She’s the helper, the hostess, the one who always shows up. The person who can do it all.

Then the bus carrying her son’s basketball team crashes, and Jo’s husband and son are among the lives lost. Now she has a new identity. Widow. Single mother. Woman who lost everything. Grief begins to tear apart the place that’s always been her home. Infighting among friends. Gossip and rumors. Wounds that may never heal and bonds that just might.

Now Jo has to rebuild her life, but as the person who thinks of herself as the helper, asking others to help hold her together is impossible. Jo must learn to lean on others as she learns to stand on her own.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“Josephine Grant?”

The grocery bag in my hands threatened to fall. He was here for me.

I’d known it since I first saw him, and praying I was wrong had done nothing.

I swallowed hard before turning. “Yes?”

He didn’t speak again until he’d navigated the driveway and stood in front of me. I set down the bag of groceries; my shaking hands and knees had rendered holding things impossible.

“Could we step inside for a moment to speak?” he asked.

I glanced toward the door. “My daughters are inside.”

He nodded, seeming to understand my concern. Whatever he had to say, he didn’t want them to overhear any more than I did.

“Mrs. Grant, I’m so sorry. There was an accident earlier today involving a bus. Two of the people on the bus were identified as Stephen and Matthew Grant.”

No. No no no.

“We’re still trying to figure out exactly what happened, but emergency personnel at the scene did everything they could for everyone. I’m sorry to tell you they passed away at the scene.”

My legs gave out and I collapsed to the ground. Cold seeped through the knees of my jeans, but I didn’t care. My head dropped, my forehead settling into the gray slush that lined the driveway.

The officer crouched beside me as a sob burst from my throat.

“Is there someone who can come stay with you?”

Crumbled on the ground, I struggled to extract my cell phone from my back pocket, but I lacked the strength to pull myself up. Finally I got it. Through the blur of tears, I fumbled to find the button to make a phone call. Instead I landed on random apps, frustration adding to the crush in my chest.

The officer took my phone gently from my hand. “What name?”

“Esther Franklin,” I replied. “My mother.”

He stepped away, and without someone standing over me, I could no longer stop the tears. I sobbed into the cold gray concrete, praying my daughters wouldn’t come looking for me.

About the Author Jessica Rakus is a debut novelist, after many, many years of writing practice. She currently lives in Louisiana, after living briefly in seven other states.

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The Reluctant Patriot by Susan Lohafer – Spotlight

April 27, 2026 By Leave a Comment

Not every part of the Civil War was loud or immediate. In some places, it unfolded slowly—through divided households, strained trust, and the growing sense that staying neutral might not be possible for long. In The Reluctant Patriot, Susan Lohafer focuses on that kind of tension as it builds.

In East Tennessee during the Civil War, divisions within communities created an environment where loyalties were constantly questioned. Harrison Self, a farmer determined to remain neutral, believes he can keep his life separate from the conflict surrounding him.

That belief begins to collapse when his son is linked to a Unionist conspiracy to burn Confederate railroad bridges. The resulting arrests and trials bring the conflict directly into his life, exposing him to suspicion and scrutiny.

Accused of treason, Harry is drawn into military courts where outcomes depend heavily on testimony and shifting allegiances. In a system where justice is uncertain and trust is fragile, he must navigate a reality that offers little stability. As the situation unfolds, the story explores how neutrality, once seen as protection, becomes something far more complicated.

A father. A son. A war that turns neighbor against neighbor.

In the divided mountains of East Tennessee, loyalty isn’t a matter of politics-it’s a matter of survival.

Harrison Self is a farmer who wants nothing to do with the Civil War. He believes in staying out of it, keeping his land, and protecting his family. But when his teenage son is drawn into a dangerous Unionist plot to burn Confederate railroad bridges, that distance collapses overnight.

Within days, Harry is arrested, accused of treason, and thrown into a system where trials are little more than theater and a single accusation can end in the noose.

What follows is not a battlefield story, but something closer, more dangerous. A world where neighbors watch each other too closely, where loyalties shift without warning, and where survival depends on choices no one should have to make.

Inspired by the true story of Harrison Self and the 1861 East Tennessee bridge burnings, The Reluctant Patriot is a work of Civil War historical fiction that brings to life a lesser-known chapter of American history-one where the war was fought not just between armies, but within families and communities.

As violence closes in and trust erodes, Harry is forced to confront the question he’s spent his life avoiding: what do you stand for when staying neutral is no longer an option?

Rich in historical detail and grounded in real events, this is a story of divided loyalties, moral courage, and the quiet, devastating cost of war-perfect for readers drawn to character-driven historical fiction and overlooked stories from the Civil War era.

Enjoy an Excerpt

As he stepped carefully among the saddled horses, Harry could hear them moving their hobbled weight in the gloom. Their warm breath clouded the November chill. Here and there, he stroked a muscled neck, lifting the nap of coarse hair. In the dark, he was wary of their stamping hooves. “Pay me no mind,” he whispered. Time was short, and yet he slowed in their midst, feeling their inner heat, their careless strength, their indifference to the road they traveled. They were as tolerant of him as if he’d once had four legs.

Peering up into the heavens, he lost his gaze in the liquid dark, hoping to catch God’s eye. All he saw was the paleness above the tree line. All he knew was what he’d learned in half a century. Must be about nine, he judged, as if he’d heard nature’s clock chime. Then the pain flooded back, gushing through his veins and pooling in his stomach. How much simpler it would be if his toes were mashed to pulp. His heart on a spit wouldn’t satisfy Corniah if he failed to bring their son back.

Harry crossed the patch of swept earth and mounted the single stair. He leaned into the solid wood he’d helped Jake saw and plane and settle into place on hinges strong enough to stop a bull. The planks gave an inch, then resisted, heaving with the crowd on the other side.

Harrison Self firmed his jaw. This was his brother-in-law’s house, where, on any other day, he could enter without knocking. From his own front door, it was only a mile’s walk, though tonight he’d forced Castor to a gallop that surprised them both. Nor had he expected what followed. To be standing on this doorstep, fighting to gain a toehold, was like milking a wooden cow. If you had sense, you lost interest.

But he couldn’t give up. They had his son in there, he was sure of it, and there was no going home without Hugh. When an opening appeared, he lodged his foot in the crack. They would not keep him out, no, they would not, though earlier in the day he’d refused to be one of them, said it was none of his affair. “Only a fool lights a match in his own barn,” he’d said, thinking he had clinched the argument.

Yet his son had trailed after them, so here was Harry, come to pull the child back, lest he burn himself.

No one’s fault, then, but Hugh’s, that his father looked ridiculous as he fought with the stubborn door, though no one saw him but the waiting horses. It was a sizable herd, and he reckoned most of the able-bodied men of Greeneville must be visiting the Harmons.

About the Author: Susan Lohafer is the author of The Reluctant Patriot, a historical novel based on true events from the Civil War in East Tennessee.

A graduate of Harvard University (B.A., magna cum laude), Stanford University (M.A. in Creative Writing), and New York University (Ph.D. in American Literature), she spent her academic career at the University of Iowa, where she specialized in short fiction theory and narrative structure.

Her previous books include Coming to Terms with the Short Story and Reading for Storyness: Preclosure Theory, Empirical Poetics, and Culture in the Short Story, as well as the co-edited volume Short Story Theory at a Crossroads. Her shorter works have appeared in publications such as The Southern Review, and a 2011 essay was on the ‘Notable’ list in The Best American Essays.

She lives in Tennessee.

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Winter Blogfest: Michael DeStefano

December 25, 2025 By 5 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $25 gift card to Barnes & Noble.

The Roadside Oasis

    The sign would have read “The Snowshoe” but for a burned-out bulb. Inside, a kindly woman greets a traveler. Her tag says Regina. Regina’s tone possesses all the tranquility a weary traveler could hope for. He sags as one might when submitting to another worthy of trust.

    “A bit road-weary?” Regina intones. The traveler suffers a lapse in deportment. The consequence is laughter, contrary to humor. “Begging your pardon; did I say something humorous?” Regina maintains her graciousness, though an arched brow betrays what she thought of the traveler’s laughter.

    “My apologies,” the traveler cries. “I passed road-weary days ago.”

    Regina boasts, “We’ve got a stew certain to revive anyone.”

    “Sounds like a bowl of Heaven,” the traveler croons.

    Regina’s smile reveals a bizarre irony that unsettles the traveler. Before Regina makes for the kitchen, she asks, as a passing curiosity, “What’s your destination?” The traveler replies, “It’s indeterminate.”

    “Destinations can be tricky,” Regina warns.

    Scanning the room, something strikes the traveler: The paradoxical look that came over Regina when he idiomatically called her dinner recommendation a bowl of Heaven was apparent on everyone’s face. Next, a man, abandoning a hand of solitaire, rises from his seat and marches toward the kitchen. As he approaches, he wavers, sighs, then disappears beyond the swinging doors.    

    “Who was that man?” the traveler asks Regina.

    “George. He’s been here for years. Had a friend with whom he played chess, but the friend moved on. Lately, George has resigned himself to solitaire.”

    “George is permitted in the kitchen?”

    “No one is unless summoned by the cook,” Regina explains.

    “I didn’t hear George’s name called.”

    Assuagingly, Regina warns the traveler, “You weren’t listening.”

    The farcicality of The Snowshoe as a waiting room where souls gather before being granted passage into Heaven unsettles the traveler, as does the existential catastrophe of his having failed to survive his journey.

    Familiarity lilts in chorus. Was death a shared experience? Some seem too reconciled for their demises to have been recent affairs; they view death as a humorous irony, an escape from a fraught world, while others regard the swinging doors with misgiving. The traveler dispels what he resolves are illusory thoughts and settles on The Snowshoe as a stopover for travelers in need of revival.

    Regina reappears with a bowl of stew. The traveler asks, “Why am I the only one eating?”

    Regina explains, “You’re the only one who requires sustenance.”

    Before the traveler’s twisted expression elicited an explanation, someone rose, tossed aside a newspaper for which they were grateful to no longer feign interest, and marched toward the kitchen.

    “Was he summoned by the cook?”

     Regina nods.

    “Will the cook summon me?” the traveler warily peeps.

    “What’s your name?” Regina asks.

    “Melcior,” the traveler replies. “I’ve searched for whatever sanguinity a forbidding world affords. I’m following a star.”

    “Two came before you,” said Regina. “Caspar and Belthazaar. They, too, are following a star. You’ll meet in Bethlehem. There, you’ll kneel before He who was foretold. Make haste, Melcior, for the day of rejoicing is upon us.”

 

Screenshot

As America pivots from embittered passions over her Vietnam initiative to Cold War anxiety, the stars align for three teens seeking independence, encountering the unimaginable.

Set in Philadelphia in the mid-1970s, American Odyssey chronicles the coming-of-age journey of Addison Caldwell, Cillian James, and Joey Brosco. In their quest for independence, the trio encounters the recently widowed Leila Bennett, a former prostitute turned farm owner. For Leila, a sultry summer blossoms into an odyssey of hope and healing; for the boys, work and awakening. Leila—a girl discarded and rescued—teaches the threesome that virtue does not lie in the struggle for independence or what one must sacrifice for its behalf, but in love that reinforces enduring friendship.

 

Michael DeStefano runs a hairstyling salon, where he has spent the past four decades beautifying the super of Philadelphia. His past titles include the historical family saga “The Gunslinger Companion,” the comedy/tragedy “Waiting for Grandfather,” and “The Bohemian.” You can find these novels and the short stories, “Eternity’s Corridor”, “A Requiem for Oliver Clinch,” and other writing at https://michaelscorner.blog

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Background of the Book by Mark A Hill – Guest Blog and Giveaway

November 17, 2025 By 12 Comments

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

Background of the Book

I have always written, whether it be poetry, lessons, courseware or angry notes on the fridge to my wife and son. Writing is an emotional release, a way of saying things that you don’t have the time or energy to express during the working day.

I have had my poetry published in several collections and literary journals. I have written two somewhat complex, obscure novels and notwithstanding the many compliments on my style and the kind words received, I’d had difficulty in finding a willing publisher. Besides, I guess you never know if someone is really complimenting you when you receive a selection of rejections. I decided that I needed a more structured approach to writing so I decided I would write a crime novel.

In 2019, I was teaching a group of judges and ex-judges in Bologna. It was a state sponsored courses that certain Italian institutions organise for privileged social groups and during those lessons, we started to talk about the Bologna massacre of 1980. That year, there was a terrorist bombing of Bologna Centrale railway station, which killed 85 people and injured over 200. It was Italy’s most serious terrorist attack. Although several members of the neo-fascist terrorist organization Nuclei Armati Rivoluzionari (NAR, Armed Revolutionary Nuclei) were subsequently sentenced for the bombing, there is still a lot of controversy over who was actually responsible. Some commentators accuse the far right, some accuse the far left. The secret services of several countries and many foreign terrorist groups have been investigated.

I did a lot of reading around the subject and decided that the whole incident was so compelling and there were so many conspiracy theories that reverberated around it, that there was probably enough material for a novel.
So, with a little dose of reality and a whole lot of imagination, I set about writing. I created the classic private investigator character, the villain, Carlos the Jackal, the corrupt Italian politician couldn’t go amiss. Who’s not going to identify with that? A little bit of love interest and off I went.

I disciplined myself to recount a straightforward narrative in chronological order, with a basic structure, using simple ideas and style. It is an attempt to narrate events in a more disciplined way than I had used in the past, I tried to eradicate any complex descriptive passages in a more high-flown poetic style. When I edited and it sounded like I was showing off, I just eliminated the offending paragraph and rewrote it as I actually perceived it, like I saw it happening step by step, in front of me.

I remember that year I was free 3 or 4 mornings a week and I just leaned into it. I’d write in streams and just throw the ideas down and then work back through, correcting the dialogues and description, the structure, the punctuation and spelling. It took me about three months to get a first draft. I remember I was quite free at that time in the mornings and able to throw myself into it without any great personal sacrifice. Whenever I am creating something that is fun, I don’t regard the time as ever being wasted.

Finishing the first draft is always a worrying moment because you risk thinking that the hard work is done. Personally, I find it much more difficult to rewrite rather than to write. You have to be relatively harsh on yourself and willing to bin whole chunks if they’re not up to standard. Revise, revise, revise is not bad advice.
I sent the novel to Wallace Publishing and they agreed to take it on. After some intense editing, the COVID years and a series of other bureaucratic setbacks, the book came out in July this year.

As an aside, in September my collected poems were published by Hidden Hand Press so, at the moment, I am promoting both books.

Mitchell Rose and the Bologna Massacre is a crime story that explores the last fifty years of cross-fertilisation between the Italian criminal underworld, its secret services, politics and the judicial system.

When Mitchell Rose is called to Milan by Remo Rhimare, a local judge who wants him to investigate the Bologna bombing of 1980, he knows it would make more sense to turn the job down.

To make things even more complicated, Rhimare also wants Rose to rein in his errant daughter, who is becoming increasingly wayward.

As Rose begins to investigate, the two missions surprisingly become one, culminating in a dreadful dramatic climax.

Enjoy an Excerpt

I twitched nervously. The will to move out of there and toward the action was strong. I wanted to be an integral part of the scene that I could see reflected there in the mobile phone. Alessandra raised a hand and made a gesture that encouraged me to stay put. In doing so, she touched me softly on the left shoulder with her long fingernails. Being discovered there would put me back to square one. Robuyuki was gonna get his from Cambio’s guards, but I had to stay still, I couldn’t move.

“It’s also my favourite drink.” The chef offered.

“But you don’t drink, Robuyuki.”

Robuyuki lifted the glass to his lips and forced the drink down his neck, licking his lips with satisfaction.

Cambio had been silenced and we heard the clumped, mechanical tramping of feet as they exited the restaurant. Alessandra heaved a sigh of relief and we slowly moved apart. I poured a glass of Grand Marnier into the glass that I had seized and we shared it there in the cellar. The sense of relief was overwhelming and we hugged each other, but without the intensity that there had been between us moments before. There was still a layer of fear that lay like a film across the room, and that fear had rendered us sexless siblings. Robuyuki knocked on the cellar door and we climbed back up and thanked him sincerely.

About the Author:

Mark A. Hill has an Economics degree from the University of Lancaster and both CELTA and DELTA qualifications to teach English to second language learners.

In 2005, in Cagliari, Italy, he founded English Teachers, which offers language services such as English courses, translations and interpreting. He collaborates as a translator and interpreter with the Cagliari Law Courts, several universities throughout Europe, and numerous private and public organizations both in the Cagliari area and throughout Italy.

Every summer, he teaches English for Academic Purposes (EAP) to Postgraduate students at Swansea University in the UK.

Mark A. Hill’s poetry has been published in The UK Poetry Library’s Top Writers of 2012 and the Live Canon 2013 Prize Anthology. He was highly commended in the 2015 Segora Poetry Prize and was short-listed for the Canon 2015 First Collection Prize. In 2016, one of his poems was commissioned, published and performed at The Victoria and Albert Museum, London, for the anniversary of Shakespeare’s death.

Mark A. Hill has also published academic courseware in collaboration with Delfis s.r.l.

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Look Over Your Shoulder by Sharon Overend – Spotlight and Giveaway

October 27, 2025 By 1 Comment

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Sharon Overend will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A haunting, lyrical exploration of family, silence and the secrets we inherit.

Years of avoidance and blame have left the McLaughlin clan fractured and ill-equipped to face the critical illness of one of their own. When long buried memories of a neighborhood child’s death while in their care resurface the family truly begin to unravel.

Told in alternating voices, Look Over Your Shoulder, reveals how secrets ripple through generations, and how healing begins when someone finally dares to speak the truth.

Enjoy an Excerpt

ANNE

I slipped away. In slow motion, I raised one foot after the other, one step at a time, upstairs. My limbs now disconnected from my body, my head bobbing in a black fog, I drifted across the hall and toward my bedroom. I lay on top of the covers but dragged a throw over my hip.

The buzz of distant conversations crawled into the room, and my window shook each time the front door opened or closed. Knuckles rapped, an empty hanger slapped against the door panel, the buzz amplified, feet shuffled forward, a presence lingered, a hand touched my arm, a voice whispered.

“Mom.”

I said nothing until her feet shuffled back toward the door.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed into the pillow seconds before the hanger again rattled, and the hum of voices roared back into the room. I wasn’t sure whether I’d wanted her to hear me or not.

“For what?” She had heard.

“For resenting you.”

The weighty creak of floorboards, a car engine idling, a woman’s laughter, a child’s shriek, a toilet flush.

“You’re tired,” Marilyn said, now close enough to touch me. “Sleep.”

“You scare me,” I said, still telling the pillow, not her. “Your strength and your capacity for forgiveness are things I’ve never experienced before. But I have to know. Have you ever forgotten?” Shame had stalked me my whole life, a shadow dancing across my peripheral vision, now fully in view.

“We’ll talk in the morning.” She lifted the fringed edge of the blanket, pulled it over my shoulder, and tucked it beneath my chin. A blue spark of static electricity sprang between her fingers and my face.

About the Author:

SHARON OVEREND, is an award-winning author whose fiction, creative non-fiction and poetry has appeared in the Canadian, American and British literary journals and anthologies including Antigonish Review, Avalon, Descant, Grain, Matter of Time, Spirit of the Hills, Surfacing, Wild Words, Word Weaver, UK’s Dream Catcher, CafeLit, The Best of CafeLit and A Coup of Owls.

Sharon and her husband live on a 156- rural acre property in Ontario, Canada where she has found inspiration for many of her projects.

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A Gilded City Trilogy by Jane Loeb Rubin – Spotlight and Giveaway

October 1, 2025 By 4 Comments

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

In the Hands of Women, (June 2023) takes the reader on an electrifying ride through the dawn of the 20th century, delving into the restrictive state of women’s rights, backroom abortions, the plight of immigrants to the Lower East Side of NYC and the prison system at Blackwell’s Island, all through the voice of a young OB/Gyn, Tillie’s younger sister, Hannah.

Threadbare, (June 2024) is a historical novel written as a tribute to Jane Rubin’s great-grandmother, Mathilda (Tillie), who died from a ‘woman’s disease’ in the early years of the twentieth century. It explores the ultra-conservative late Victorian era through a Jewish female character living among the poor, struggling to build a garment company and pushing back against antisemitic and misogynistic values dominating the time. She acquired wealth, only to have life upended by a cruel, unexpected challenge.

Over There (June 2025) brings four family members of Threadbare and In the Hands of Women, all doctors and nurses, into The Great War, each facing down authentic challenges of the period. Meticulously researched and crafted on four stages, the reader experiences the jarring reality of trench warfare, magnificent rise of the American Hospital in Paris, unimagined medical innovations owed to the dedication of healthcare workers, and the universal, frightening impact war has on children.

Enjoy an Excerpt from IN THE HANDS OF WOMEN

I glanced at Nurse Hammond. Her head was bent to the wood floor, hands squeezed so tightly, I could see the white in her knuckles. The navy muslin dress worn beneath her white apron matched the dark circles under her eyes. I held back from the pack of students as they left the ward.
Nurse Hammond was at the end of her night shift, little time left to hear the full story.

“Nurse, were you in delivery during the twins’ births?” I whispered.

“I was.” She straightened her back, darting her eyes to the nursery.

I took a step closer to her. “Did anything unusual happen?”

After a lengthy pause, she rubbed her fingers, eyes downcast.

“Nurse Hammond, what happened?” I persisted.

“You know Adams, always impatient.” She turned her eyes from the floor then to mine. “He couldn’t stand the mother’s screaming and knocked her out cold with ether. Then he went in deep with the forceps, taking forever. I think he would have had more luck if he kept her awake and changed her position.” She took in a sharp breath. “But who am I to say? You can’t utter a word. I need my job. I’ve four children at home.”

I nodded, understanding. “You can trust me. Go home and get some rest.” I scurried down the hall to the nursery.

“Where’ve you been, Isaacson?” Dr. Adams barked as I walked through the doorway.

“My apology doctor, lavatory.”

Dr. Adams crossed his arms on his chest, haughtily shaking his head at the ring of men standing around the twins’ bassinettes. “See there, gentlemen? That’s what happens when women are allowed into the profession. Always needing to fix their hair.”

Blood shot to my face. How long would he get away with his negligence? I stifled my annoyance, while studying the infants. The smaller baby’s hand began to tremor.

About the Author: Author, Jane Loeb Rubin has won numerous awards including the Historical Novel Society’s First Chapters short list for Over There, released May, 2025 by Level Best Books. She will be speaking at numerous Florida events as listed on her website.

With an extensive healthcare background Ms. Rubin began writing in 2009 after a serious cancer diagnosis. She now has a four-book deal with Level Best Books (Threadbare-2024, In the Hands of Women-2023, Over There-2025, The Hat Trick-2026), following the fictional life of her great-grandmother’s family.

In the Hands of Women, (June 2023) takes the reader on an electrifying ride through the dawn of the 20th century, delving into the restrictive state of women’s rights, backroom abortions, the plight of immigrants to the Lower East Side of NYC and the prison system at Blackwell’s Island, all through the voice of a young OB/Gyn, Tillie’s younger sister, Hannah.

Threadbare, (June 2024) is a historical novel written as a tribute to Jane Rubin’s great-grandmother, Mathilda (Tillie), who died from a ‘woman’s disease’ in the early years of the twentieth century. It explores the ultra-conservative late Victorian era through a Jewish female character living among the poor, struggling to build a garment company and pushing back against antisemitic and misogynistic values dominating the time. She acquired wealth, only to have life upended by a cruel, unexpected challenge.

Over There (June 2025) brings four family members of Threadbare and In the Hands of Women, all doctors and nurses, into The Great War, each facing down authentic challenges of the period. Meticulously researched and crafted on four stages, the reader experiences the jarring reality of trench warfare, magnificent rise of the American Hospital in Paris, unimagined medical innovations owed to the dedication of healthcare workers, and the universal, frightening impact war has on children.

The Hat Trick, Ms. Rubin’s work in process (May 2026) transports her family characters into the mid-1920’s in the years before the Borscht Belt in Sullivan County, NY.

Ms. Rubin, a graduate of the University of Michigan (BS, MS) and Washington University (MBA), retired from a 30-year career as a healthcare executive to begin writing full-time. She lives with her husband, David, an attorney, in Northern New Jersey. Between them, they have five adult children and seven grandchildren. Ms. Rubin’s work is available at all on-line retailers, Indigo Books, select Barnes and Noble Book stores and upon request from Level Best Books.

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Miss Moon by Alan Ramias – Spotlight and Giveaway

September 29, 2025 By Leave a Comment

Here’s a collection that invites readers to see the world in a new light, where the ordinary becomes unforgettable.

Miss Moon offers a series of lyrical, self-contained narratives that shimmer with insight and intimacy. Alan Ramias weaves portraits that move between whimsical, poignant, and quietly shattering, reflecting the beauty and complexity of being human. With themes of memory, love, loss, and family, the collection bridges the deeply personal with the universal.

Ramias’s work reflects both his military service in Vietnam and his decades of global experience helping people and organizations grow. The result is a book that carries truth, beauty, and resonance — a collection readers will return to again and again.

This author was an Army reporter and photographer whose first novel, The Bridge, placed us in the middle of the devastating war in Vietnam. Now in the first part of this book Alan Ramias reaches deeper into the psyches of soldiers sent there, offering three stories, each based on real-life characters and incidents.

Where friends struggle with clashing emotions of love and jealousy while navigating loneliness and the dangers of a war that had no boundaries or front lines.

Where a young man is forced to live the ungodly experiences of war by a controlling monster of a father.

Where a worn and tattered veteran returns home to an endless darkness of broken promises, trashed friendships, an unfeeling family and an indifferent hometown.

This is the Vietnam War and its aftermath as it really was.

The second half of the book is a collection of poetry written by the author over a span of 40 years: humorous, quietly reflective, experimental, and always fascinated with language and imagery.

Enjoy an Excerpt

The first night of guard duty was typical: uneventful, boring, hard to stay awake. That’s what it was like for seasoned soldiers. But for the newly initiated, it was the ultimate in ceaseless terror: every noise, every movement, every shift in the breeze, every change of lighting brought ominous imaginings. Everything looked swollen, enlarged, animate. The skin could tingle so strongly it felt hot. The eyes strained until they throbbed and the vision turned watery. Sitting in a watch tower, glancing at the moon’s progress. Two hours on, four hours off, performed twice over a twelve-hour shift. Trying to sleep during the hours off was impossible even for some veterans; for the newcomer, not a chance. So it was for Tinkerbell.

There were three guards who took turns. He got the first shift—6 to 8 p.m.—and the fourth—12-2. The only difference from the ordinary routine was that instead of being alone in the tower, Tinkerbell was accompanied by LaPointe, who kept up a steady patter of instructions, observations, cautions, jokes and homesick talk.

Still, by the end of that first shift, Tinkerbell looked sweaty, pale and shaky as he came down from the tower where LaPointe had already descended and was waiting with the second-shift guard. After LaPointe gave a quick sitrep he guided Tinkerbell to a nearby tent with cots draped in mosquito netting, one of which was occupied by the third-shift guard.

When shaken two hours later, Tinkerbell got back up looking even worse. He opened his canteen, tipped it and pulled clumsily at the water, spilling some on his fatigues.

LaPoint, watching him stonily, said, “For chrissake, man, relax. We just gotta do this for two more hours. You’ll never make it at this rate.”

Tinkerbell looked at him dubiously. “You think something’s going to happen? We gonna get shot at?”

About the Author: Alan Ramias served as an Army reporter in the Mekong Delta during the Vietnam War, where he documented the daily lives of soldiers and civilians in a world marked by uncertainty. Those experiences became the foundation for The Bridge, a story about connection, loyalty, and the unexpected friendships forged in the shadow of conflict. After the war, Alan earned degrees in English, Philosophy, and an MBA, and built a distinguished corporate career helping organizations improve performance around the globe. Today, he draws on both his military service and decades of working with people from many cultures to create fiction that explores the complexities of human relationships, memory, and the moments that stay with us.

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Researching Tip by Helen Gillespie – Spotlight and Giveaway

September 23, 2025 By 6 Comments

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

Researching Tip

The Internet isn’t the “end all” to research. I love that we have the World Wide Web at our fingertips, allowing us to gain knowledge about any subject. However, it sometimes falls short. Even with Chat GPT and other AI tools, knowledge seekers need to ask the correct questions to get the correct answers. Oftentimes, we need to augment technology with human intelligence.

During my writing of The Goodbyes, I was firm that it took close to two hours to travel from Marshfield, Missouri to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. My editor said it took much less time. Of course, I used a map app, and she was correct; it takes maybe an hour. I couldn’t shake off the nearly two-hour trip I thought I had remembered. “Perhaps the Interstate wasn’t completed at the time,” I thought. My computer search proved me wrong. I decided to call a librarian at the local library in Marshfield in hopes of clarifying why I thought the trip was longer. I shared my challenge with her, and right away she responded, “I lived here during the time. The speed limit was 55 then.” Surely, that would have accounted for the more extended trip. However, two hours was still an overestimation. As a result, I rewrote the sentence to exclude the time spent traveling the distance, in case a reader doesn’t recall the 55 miles per hour speed limit as I hadn’t.

This wasn’t the only time while writing The Goodbyes that I depended on human intelligence. I asked a police officer friend of mine if my portrayal of an officer approaching a crime scene was believable. To my relief, she said yes and offered a few suggestions to enhance the scene.

In the sequel to The Goodbyes, I am relying heavily on human intelligence. I’m interested in learning what life was like in the early ’90s in an area I am only somewhat familiar with. I have a multitude of facts, but an accurate and believable picture of people’s feelings and memories is what makes a plausible and enjoyable story. Therefore, I’ll ask others.

Struggling with becoming an adult in a small mid-western town, Dianne must confront family secrets, deception, and discovery during her last year of college. As she cares for her ailing mother, her world begins to unravel and she is challenged to navigate through lies, friendships, love…and murder.

Meeting the wrong person makes it possible for her to recognize the right ones and to find the strength she needs to survive. Realizing that she is responsible for her own destiny, she learns that to say hello to a new life, she must first say goodbye.

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All living creatures hold secrets for basic survival. Humans keep secrets to preserve their image, hide their misjudgments, or protect those they care about. Only in the safest conditions, absolute trust or vulnerability, can humans feel safe divulging their secrets, laying bare their hidden selves.

Katrina England and her husband did not keep secrets from Dianne or indulge in the usual childhood fantasies of princesses or fairy godmothers with her daughter. Even Santa Claus was introduced from a historical perspective rather than as a magical elf. The Englands were doting parents who disciplined their daughter when necessary and answered her questions honestly, only withholding information that surpassed Dianne’s maturity. Yet, despite this philosophy, Katrina did hold a few secrets, one very close.

As Dianne approached adulthood, Katrina began to share these secrets. By then, Dianne’s father had died, leaving the two women to navigate life together as a family with no other relatives living close by. Katrina often grappled with the lifelong weight of a childhood secret and her secret of late, a terminal cancer diagnosis. Both became weightier as her cancer took hold. When Dianne began dating the MegaMart store manager, Katrina’s concern of her daughter’s future turned to worry.

Dianne, nearing graduation while dealing with her mother’s illness, found herself facing unexpected challenges. When Michael D. Glossen entered her life, her challenges became problems. Oddly, she met “Michael D” when a cream rinse emergency arose.

About the Author: Throughout grammar school and college, Helen Gillespie loved developing story sketches or full stories but kept them hidden within herself. That creative spark proved valuable in unexpected places, first on assignment as a musician in the US Army, and after leaving the Army, when she earned a degree in elementary education. After reentering the Army in 1981, she put pen to paper, or rather, “fingers to an Olivetti.” She officially learned the art of journalism to serve the Army, but it quickly became a personal passion. Interviewing fellow soldiers, exploring their jobs and personalities, and publishing useful information for the military community formed the basis of her skill and enjoyment. Those years of thought, training, education, and experience laid the foundation for crafting her first novel, The Goodbyes.

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Ten Things Most People Don’t Know About Me by MG da Mota – Guest Blog and Giveaway

September 16, 2025 By 10 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $25 Amazon/BN.com gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Ten things most people don’t know about me
1. I don’t like dresses or skirts. And since my 18th birthday the times I wore a dress or a skirt can probably be counted by the fingers of one hand!

2. I love the night sky and can stand looking up at the stars for hours in a dark place, with little or no light, in the middle of nowhere.

3. People know me as a classical music, opera and ballet lover but I enjoy some rock music too. When I lived in Germany I went, among others, to the live concerts of Queen, Bruce Springsteen, Pink Floyd and Gary Moore. The experiences were memorable.

4. I worked in IT for many years but before that I was a TV presenter, a translator and a teacher of foreign languages and history but always continued to write in parallel to these jobs during my spare time.

5. I kept my writing secret from most people, except my brother and best friend, for many years because I thought people would think I was weird.

6. I don’t like ice cream and I will always prefer cheese to cake or sweets, however, I love chocolate, especially dark chocolate and find it difficult to resist.

7. I don’t like tea. It is something I never drink. I find it just tastes like hot water though it can have nice aromas.

8. I like fast cars and motorbikes and I used to fly as a co-pilot fixed-wing small planes with a friend of mine in Germany a long time ago. When I moved to the UK I learned to fly helicopters.

9. The things I most hate in life are boredom and stupidity.

10. I lived in Germany ten years and while there I hitchhiked often and travelled all over the country in that way.

A woman living alone in a coastal Sussex town in 1998 plants a copper beech sapling at 3 a.m. on a dark, cold night. Why?

A ballet dancer in 1960s East Germany is oppressed, longs for escaping with his little daughter but not his wife. Why? Will he make it?

In 2022 Karsten von Stein, widower and principal of the Royal Ballet, with two young children, meets Ivone Benjamim, a Portuguese, newly-arrived principal dancer. They discover a magical chemistry when dancing and soon it transfers to their private lives.

Against the background of ballet and its dancers, a woman called Grace tells her story from a rehab centre. Obsessive, delusional she begins believing Ivone robbed her of the man of her dreams—Karsten. And then a skeleton is found in a garden…What connects all these people and their stories?

You’ll be the audience facing the stage of this balletic novel.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Prologue
Southeast England, late November 1998

She looks out of the window. Dark night. Black but clear. Twinkling dots punctuate the raven velvet of the sky. Stars shimmer cold and icy. Their light slightly wavering. She knows it is the Earth’s atmosphere. But that’s neither here nor there. It doesn’t matter a jot. Not at this moment anyway.

Darkness is the important thing. No moon. New moon. Why do people refer to a new moon when there is no moon or when one cannot see the moon from our revolving, ever turning blue dot? The moon is still up there in the sky. It’s just that at some point during its orbit its farther side from us is facing the sun. So the side facing us is dark and we can’t see it. As simple as that.

Tonight is new moon. An ideal night. She opens the window quietly and glances at the houses to her right first, then to her left. Like hers they are all immersed in silent darkness. People sleep. She looks at the luminous hands of her alarm clock on the side table. The shorter hand points at the number three, or close to it, and the long hand at somewhere between ten and fifteen. Probably around 3:12 in the morning. Her house stands almost but not quite alone on top of the hill. To her right, looking from her bedroom window that faces the back garden, there are two houses. The one closest to hers is empty.

About the Author: M G da Mota is Margarida Mota-Bull’s pen name for fiction. She is a Portuguese-British novelist with a love for classical music, ballet and opera. Under her real name she also writes reviews of live concerts, CDs, DVDs and books for two classical music magazines on the web: MusicWeb International and Seen and Heard International. She is a member of the UK Society of Authors, speaks four languages and lives in Sussex with her husband. Her website, called flowingprose.com, contains photos and information.

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