Winter Blogfest: C.H. Lyn

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $50 gift card to Barnes and Noble or Amazon, reader’s choice!

Preparing for Christmas by C.H. Lyn

For the past five years or so, my husband has struggled to hold Christmas at bay. He enjoys Thanksgiving and believes the decorations should stay away until after that fateful turkey day. As for me, while I’m not one for having reindeer up for sale before Halloween ends, I definitely prefer putting up Christmas decorations to baking pumpkin pie.

We’ve settled on something of a truce. I’m ready. Prepared for a bombardment of garland, lights, and tinsel. Black Friday doesn’t mean shopping in my house. It means decorations galore. It means hauling the tree out of the garage and carefully handing the kids ornaments they won’t easily destroy. It means candy canes everywhere, peppermint hot chocolate for the kids (peppermint mochas for me), and the beginning of the true holiday baking season.

My Gran used to make tins full of homemade candy every year. Caramels, fudge, butterscotch, cookies, brownies, blondies… you name it, she’d have it in a tin. We would go together, handing them out to her friends a few weeks before Christmas. It’s one of my most cherished memories.

That being said, I’m not about to spend seventy hours baking homemade candy. She was retired and didn’t have toddlers running around the house. I stick to a simple set of recipes, a few favorites that I enjoy sharing with the neighbors (and eating).

My eldest child is 4 this year. She fully understands the concept of this winter holiday, and is anxious to wrap the presents we’ve already picked out, bake with mommy, and have family visit. Both kids are also pretty psyched about the possibility of snow and a sledding filled Christmas Day.

It’s early November as I write this. The sky is blue, no snow clouds visible on the horizon. I’ve left out the gourds, and other fall themed decorations that aren’t specifically Halloweeny. I’ll wait, somewhat patiently, until Thanksgiving night to pull from the boxes in my garage. It is the truce, after all. And yet, I can’t help the grin as I think of the tiny colorful Christmas tree my youngest asked me to buy at the store the other day. It’s on the top shelf in their bedroom, out of sight unless you’re looking for it. A small decoration only the girls and I know about… promising a lovely holiday season.

 

International travel means international danger.

Lacey Devaine is a four-year veteran of a spy ring which fronts as an exclusive escort service, Miss Belle’s Travel Guides. Maintaining her cover is Lacey’s number one priority to protect the integrity of the operation she works for.

While on assignment in Tokyo, a nosy newspaper reporter threatens to blow the lid off a scandal that will put dozens of innocent lives at risk. To protect her cover, Miss Belle is called in to act on intelligence Lacey has uncovered.

Can these beautiful, intelligent, and deadly women complete this assignment in time and emerge unscathed? Or will this mission be their last?

C.H. Lyn live in Colorado with her husband, two little girls, and a massive German Shepherd. She enjoys the mountains and trails Colorado has to offer, especially the easier ones she doesn’t have to carry the kids on. She loves to write, and finds time for it while the kids play and after they’ve gone to bed. She is working on more Miss Belle’s Travel Guides books, as well as several projects for Kindle Vella. She can be found on almost all social media platforms @chlyn.author

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Winter Blogfest: Michael Preston

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a digital copy of my book Ticket to Paradise for one lucky winner.

Christmas at Grandma’s Farm by Michael Preston

The holidays are here, and of course that brings up many memories of times past when I was a kid growing up in the 60’s. I especially remember Christmas at grandma’s farm in Ohio. She was a widow, living in a large brick house built in the early 1800’s by Quakers. Originally, it had no indoor plumbing. There was an outhouse in the backyard where the early inhabitants would go to do their business, but when grandma bought the place, she converted one closet upstairs into a bathroom. The water pressure was terrible. It would take fifteen minutes to fill up the bathtub.

There were several wells from which water could be hand pumped for cooking and washing. I still remember the delicious taste of the cold water I would drink right from the pump. Grandma kept the pumps even after the indoor plumbing was installed. My cousins and I would play with them for hours, and eventually we would all be soaked.

As the days would go by and it would get closer and closer to Christmas, I monitored the weather forecasts daily. We lived a good hour’s drive away from grandma’s house. My worst nightmare was there would be a big storm the day before Christmas, making the roads impassable, and we could not go to grandma’s house. This meant missing out on presents and seeing my cousins. This was the only time all year we would all be together.

Our family tree was not huge. I had only five cousins, plus my younger brother and sister. You can imagine the excitement when we were all in the same room. While the adults sat and talked in the living room, we were running all over that old house, sliding down the banister on our stomachs, playing hide and go seek, and eating everything in sight. Grandma was an excellent cook, and she would make popcorn balls for all of us kids to eat. There would always be a huge turkey dinner with all the trimmings, which we would woof down quickly, because as soon as dinner was over, it would be time to open presents!

I hope all of you out there have memories of past Christmas gatherings which were as joyful as mine. If you’re stumped for a last-minute gift, my book Ticket to Paradise could fill that void.

Merry Christmas!

Art Garcia, a small-time drug dealer, is always looking for his ticket to paradise, the one thing that will make all his problems go away. Angela, his sociopathic sister, couldn’t care less about her brother. Abused as children, their twisted lives are going in different directions until greed brings them together in a perilous venture.

Their partnership ends suddenly when Angela is found dead after a rainstorm, buried in a massive mudslide. Detectives Ron Jackson and Mary Ann McDonald take the case when an autopsy reveals someone shot Angela dead before the mudslide. While searching for her killer, the detectives discover that eight children under Angela’s protection, vanished without a trace. As suspects die, the detectives race to find Art; the only one left alive who knows what happened to the children.

Art finally has his ticket to paradise, a winning lotto ticket. But cashing it will provide the detectives with a motive for the murder of his sister. Torn between greed and the fear of prison, his situation grows more and more desperate.

I am a freelance writer with a background in telecommunications and appraising. “Ticket to Paradise” is my first novel. When I am not writing, I like to amuse myself by creating mounds of sawdust in my wood shop, or visiting a country I have always wanted to see.

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All Signs Point to Murder by Connie di Marco – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Connie di Marco will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Rob Ramer was the perfect husband until he committed the ultimate family faux pas—he shot his sister-in-law to death. Believing himself under attack by an intruder in his home, he fired back. But when evidence is discovered that Rob’s wife, Brooke, was plotting his murder, Brooke is charged with conspiracy in her sister’s death. Geneva, a third sister, is desperate for answers and seeks the help of her friend, San Francisco astrologer Julia Bonatti. Geneva’s lost one sister and now it seems she’ll lose the other. Was this a murder plot or just a terrible accident? Julia vows to find the answer in the stars.

Enjoy an Excerpt

The same headlights stayed behind me for several blocks, remaining about two car lengths behind. I’m very careful about locking my car doors, especially at night. I look over my shoulder when getting into my car too. I clicked the door locks again for good measure. Two cars passed me in the next lane, but the car behind remained at the same distance. When the next light turned green, I accelerated quickly and kept my speed up for the next few blocks, hoping a police cruiser wasn’t waiting in an alleyway speed trap to ticket me. The car following matched my speed. Why would anyone be trailing me, and if so, how long had I been followed?

I cast my mind back, trying to remember if I had noticed anything outside Macao or earlier. No one had been around. I hadn’t seen any cars pulling out behind me. But then, it was the last thing on my mind. I was only intent on meeting Tony.

After the next light, I slowed to a crawl, watching to see if the driver would become impatient and pass me. Again, the car matched my speed. A chill ran down my spine. Someone was definitely following me and they didn’t care if I knew.

I quickly reviewed my options. I had no intention of leading a stranger to my apartment. Of course, after my wallet was left open with my exposed driver’s license that night in Moira’s apartment, my follower, if he were the same person who attacked me, would already know where I lived. I nixed the idea of heading for my grandmother’s house. I didn’t want to bring any trouble to her doorstep, nor to Gale’s. Even so, that would involve driving back toward Russian Hill. I could return to Cheryl’s but didn’t like the thought of being unprotected on a deserted downtown street when I got out of my car. Whoever he, or she, was, I had to lose them. On the off chance they didn’t know where I lived, I had no intention of leading them to my apartment.

When I reached Divisadero, I turned left and headed for a neighborhood that I knew was a warren of intertwining streets. I made a fast turn heading west on Turk and an even faster right on Baker, leading me up Terra Vista. By now I was too frightened to even look in the rear view mirror. I raced up Terra Vista and took the corner on two wheels. I didn’t see car lights behind me as I turned the corner, only the ambient glow of headlights down the hill. I drove halfway down the block and spotted a long driveway leading to a garage at the rear of a house. I pulled down the driveway and parked behind the house. I doused my headlights and turned off the engine. My hands were sweating and my heart was pounding.

I hadn’t imagined the black sedan following me. I had no idea what kind of car it was, only black, late model, could have been a Mercedes, a Cadillac, I honestly wouldn’t know the difference unless I saw an insignia. My engine made small metallic pinging sounds as it cooled. I waited but heard nothing. I carefully rolled down my window and listened. A glow from headlights highlighted the tall tree branches in the next yard. I heard a car moving slowly down the street. The motor was almost silent, but I could hear the crunching of dry leaves under tires. He was searching. I had temporarily lost him, but now I was trapped in a driveway behind a private home. I prayed no one in the house would turn on outside lights or do anything to signal my presence. How long would he cruise the street?

Ten minutes elapsed but it felt like an hour. I twisted in my seat and once again saw the same glow of headlights. Again I heard the crunching of leaves and small branches under tires. The car came to a stop directly in front of the driveway. Its headlights were fixed against the wall of the house next door.

My mouth was dry and I could barely swallow. If the driver found me, what would he do? What could I do? I could lean on the horn and hope to wake the occupants of the house. The arrogance of following me in such an overt manner was more frightening than an attempt to track me covertly. Was someone trying to discover where I lived, or did they already know? Did someone wish me harm or were they only trying to frighten me? If so, they were doing a damn good job of it.

My heart was racing. I closed my eyes and deliberately slowed my breathing and prayed. Then I heard an engine rev and tires squeal. The sedan barreled down the street as if angry to have lost me. I was too afraid to turn the car around and pull out. It could be a trick. He could be waiting at the foot of the hill. I was cold now and shivering. I wanted to be home in my own bed more than anything in the world. I had to take a chance. I turned on my parking lights and saw that the driveway continued on past the garages. A narrow space next to the last garage led to an alley behind the homes. I started the engine but left my headlights off. I followed the concrete path along the side of the garage and through the opening to the alleyway. It led to an intersecting street. At the corner, I hit the brakes and looked around carefully. Nothing moved. I glanced up at the street sign. Fortuna Street. I almost laughed with gratitude at the name. I wiped tears from my eyes and
took a deep breath. Following Fortuna I reached Turk again. No other cars were on the street. I turned west toward the Avenues keeping a lookout, but didn’t spot the black sedan again.

When I reached home, I pulled the car into the garage, made sure the heavy door was properly locked and climbed the back stairs to my kitchen. Wizard padded out to greet me. He tried to make a dash for the yard, but struggling to hold on to my purse and keys, I grabbed him at the last moment. I didn’t want him out this late at night, and I was too tired to have to call him in later. I reached down and closed the hatch on his kitty door before he could get free. He looked at me and uttered a low growl in his throat.

“No. Sorry. It’s been a rough day and a rougher night. You’re in.” I doled out a couple of kitty treats and dropped them in his plate. He attacked them at once. I turned off the kitchen light and in the dark, peeked out the living room windows to the street below. I saw no cars that seemed out of place. Then I walked down the stairway and shoved the bolt across the front door. Wizard eyed me strangely, sensing something was out of kilter. Upstairs, I shed my jacket and poured a glass of wine. The light on the answering machine was blinking. Gale had left a message reminding me of the open house on Sunday. Cheryl hadn’t spoken of it earlier and I suspected she might bail on the whole idea. Then I kicked off my shoes and shed my clothes. I slipped into my flannel pajamas, propped some extra pillows on the bed and settled in.

I thought about the couples I knew. Cheryl dealing with a divorce, Brooke in jail accused of planning her husband’s death, Moira dead, and forced to turn over information on her boyfriend to the police. David and Geneva seemed the only happy people in the world, in spite of their family difficulties. Only Gale was completely content as a single woman. Maybe I was better off in my alone state than I knew.

Wizard climbed onto my lap and started kneading the comforter furiously. Was Cheryl right? Was it was time to consider dating? The thought of it brought no joy. If someone told me to climb Mount Everest with no equipment, it would seem an easier prospect. But if I didn’t take a chance, I’d be a woman alone with her cat forever. I finished the wine, turned off the bedroom lamp and snuggled down under the comforter. I heard the foghorns in the distance as my eyes closed involuntarily.

About the Author:

Connie di Marco is the author of the Zodiac Mysteries featuring Julia Bonatti, a San Francisco astrologer who never thought murder would be part of her practice: The Madness of Mercury, All Signs Point to Murder, Tail of the Dragon, Serpent’s Doom and Enter a Wizard, Stage Left (a prequel e-book novella). Writing as Connie Archer, she is also the author of the national bestselling Soup Lover’s Mysteries from Penguin Random House. You can find her excerpts and recipes in The Cozy Cookbook and The Mystery Writers of America Cookbook. Connie is a member of Mystery Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, Crime Writers Association (UK) and Sisters in Crime.

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Bloodstains and Candy Canes by Marla A. White – Spotlight and Giveaway

This stop is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Marla A. White will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Attending a swanky cookie exchange is the last thing on veterinarian Dr. Mandy Brown’s holiday to-do list, but she agrees to help a friend out. The party comes to a screeching halt after a body turns up on the kitchen floor, a carving knife jutting out of his back.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Mandy comes face-to-face with Officer Dylan Shaw, a man she thought she was dating until he ghosted her. Tensions escalate as motives for murder come out of the pantry as fast as guests scarf down the pot-spiked brownies, making everything all the merrier.

Although the case seems open and shut, Mandy doesn’t believe the evidence. Can she and Dylan put their differences aside and find the real killer, or risk one of the bakers getting away with murder?

Enjoy an Excerpt

“Call him.”

Dolores is right. Shaw once told me 911 calls are automatically routed to the Highway Patrol where they get sorted to the appropriate agency. If you know the local police number, you’ll get a faster response by calling them directly. But I also know the last person I want to see right now is Officer Dylan Shaw.

“Who cares?” I ask. “The dead guy isn’t going anywhere.”

Dee narrows her eyes and gives me an icy gaze. “No, but the killer is. The police need to get this place locked down fast if they’re going to have a shot at finding them.”

Well poop, I hadn’t thought of that. My head is too far up my own butt to think past my broken heart. “Fine, I’ll call him.”

She nods, pulling the sobbing Bethany under one arm and uses the other to guide, coerce and otherwise wrangle Agnes, the guests, and caterers alike back to the veranda. Very few people have the strength to refuse Dolores’ will of iron.

When everyone is gone, I slip into the den and grab my phone. Stomach lurching with dread, I hit the button for Shaw and wait the tension-filled five seconds as it rings once before he answers. “Hey Mandy, what’s up?”

His cheerful tone surprises me until irritation sweeps away the pleasure his voice brings. Does he not realize I’m mad at him for ghosting me? “This isn’t a social call, Shaw.”

About the Author: Marla White is a story analysis instructor at UCLA and writing coach who lives in Los Angeles. She graduated from the University of Kentucky where she took her first horseback riding lesson. After dabbling in hunters, barrel racing, and weekly trail rides, she fell hopelessly in love with the sport of eventing. She conquered Novice level before taking a break to pursue novel writing but hopes to return to the saddle some day soon. When she’s not writing, she’s out in the garden, hiking, putting together impossibly difficult puzzles, or (of course!) baking.

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Under the Cloud by B.R. Erlank – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. B.R. Erlank will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

They call themselves The Settlement Bureau. A faceless, soulless organization coercing individuals with threats to expose their improprieties and vulnerabilities. Inhumanely persistent, they’ve secretly driven hundreds of victims into bankruptcy, despair – and several even to suicide.

But when this organization tries to blackmail IT expert Terry Reynolds, they make a serious mistake. Terry is down on his luck. He is penniless, divorced and in a dead-end job. Yet, the abuse of his personal information stirs Terry out of his lethargy and he fights back. He embarks on a digital game of cat-and-mouse with the cold, calculating minds behind The Settlement Bureau – and in doing so, uncovers a sprawling criminal conspiracy.

Under The Cloud is a chillingly plausible new thriller by B.R. Erlank. With a plot ripped straight from the headlines, advance readers warn, “this book delivers a roller coaster ride right up to the final pages.”

Enjoy an Excerpt

Charlie’s canine senses were on high alert. He growled and stared across the street. There was a commotion in the shadows of a tree. Then Terry heard a frail, plaintive voice, “No, no, leave me. That’s mine. Let go!”

Terry knew that voice; it was Joe. What sort of low-life attacks an old homeless man? There was a thud and a howl of pain. Charlie was the first to react; the dog raced across the street with Terry behind him. Under the streetlamp, Terry could make out the old man’s face, bleeding and distorted with fear, as he shouted, “You imbecile, you don’t know…”

The attacker was dressed in black and was at least six inches taller than Joe. The assailant pushed Joe hard, then his fist smashed into the old man’s face. Joe slumped against the tree, and the thug pulled back his fist for another punch.

Terry shouted, “Hey! Leave him!”

The man briefly turned and hesitated. Then, before he could plant the fist again, Charlie lunged and sank his teeth into the man’s wrist. The attacker cursed, and a knife appeared in his other hand. The blade glinted in the streetlight, and Charlie’s bark turned into a surprised yelp, then a whimper. The attacker ran.

For a split second, Terry’s rage commanded him to follow, but the sight of Joe and Charlie, both crumpled and bleeding, stopped him in his tracks. He knelt by the old man, whose face was smeared with blood, one eye beginning to swell. His breath was coming in desperate rasps.

About the Author: Boris Erlank grew up in Southern Africa. He has lived and worked in places as diverse as Luanda, Cape Town, Singapore and San Francisco. Boris recently gave up his job as Global Privacy Manager with a Fortune 100 company to focus on writing full-time.

He has an extensive background in IT, data privacy and cybersecurity, and has drawn on that experience to craft his latest novel, Under the Cloud. His previous novel, Catch You Later, is a murder mystery set in Cape Town.

Boris lives with his family and two dogs in the foothills of Mount Diablo, east of San Francisco. He likes to cycle and hike. “Those solitary pursuits give me time to dream up the characters and plots for my novels,” he says. Boris also enjoys choir singing, travel, and listening to audiobooks.

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The book is on sale at Amazon for $0.99 until November 22.

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Body Snatched by Ana Diamond – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Ana Diamond will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

What’s worse than losing a body from a funeral home? Losing two. But mortician and amatuer sleuth, Lily Reynolds has a hunch. The new visitor in town, Rick Drakon, may have charmed his way into her life but she’s not fooled by his smooth talking ways. Problem is, Rick is a long-time friend of Lily’s new husband, Detective James Rivers. While James is busy convincing her to look elsewhere, Lily embarks on a dangerous path toward uncovering the truth. Will this case come between the couple or will Lily find herself closer to evil than ever before?

Enjoy an Excerpt

She sprinted toward the ambulance with James inside. Her heart leaped into her throat. She didn’t want to alarm the others, but she didn’t really know if he was going to make it. Antonio had not. And what would she do if he didn’t? Images of her life with James flashed before her eyes.

From the moment when she’d first laid eyes on his silky black hair and tattooed biceps in the basement of her funeral home to their wedding day when he told her they would be together forever, this could not be the end. She would not want to go on. Tears flooded her eyes, clouding her vision as she ran toward the ambulance James had been loaded into. Yanking the back door open wide, she propelled herself inside.

His eyes were closed but his body had been hooked up to monitors that beeped incessantly. Intravenous fluids ran down the tubing and into James’s arms. And there was blood—lots of blood on the floor of the truck and on the linens of the stretcher. She willed herself into tunnel vision to avoid seeing nothing but red. The paramedics sat on opposite sides of the ambulance monitoring the machines hooked up to him.

She stood at the foot of the stretcher watching for any movement. Was he unconscious? Had he slipped into a coma? Was he only minutes from death? She’d stopped breathing altogether until she touched his leg and his eyes popped open.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve ever been shot.” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

She released the air from her lungs and chuckled at him. Her heart could beat again. “Congratulations. I’ll tell you what you’ve won later. Now work on not dying.”

He smiled and laid his head back on the pillow. “Yes, ma’am.”

About the Author:When Ana Diamond isn’t writing about tough gals finding love in unexpected places, she’s at work by day in the medical field. She writes romantic cozy mystery novels with feisty strong women and alluring men who can’t resist them. Her books are fast paced, entertaining and heartfelt all at once.

Ana is a 2020 Tara Contest Finalist for Body Conscious and 2015 Melody of Love contest finalist. She lives in New York with her husband, two children and two needy but wildly entertaining kitty cats.

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Raven Remix by Sarah Hualde – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Sarah Hualde will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Most people run from death,
But not Penny.
She chases it down.

Penny’s premonitions put her friends in peril. Join her as she stalks the bird of death by following the musical clues he leaves behind.

Will she and her cheeky cat, Spades save the day?
Or will the Raven be one step ahead?

This Paranormal Penny Boxset features books 1, 1.5, and 2 in the Paranormal Penny Mystery Series.

Join Penny and Spades as they thwart murderers before they strike.

Enjoy an Excerpt

It wasn’t life that flashed before my eyes as Betty Fae thwacked me between the shoulder blades. It was death and disaster—replays of all the faces of shock and sadness worn by acquaintances of my past. Death of one sort or the other followed that stupid Raven.

I remembered them all. Vividly. The writer, the homeschool mom, the surfer, the politician. They were among the near-strangers I’d encountered and endangered.

Following their faces came the really painful pictures. The friendly child advocate, the sweet boy next door, and losing my aunt and uncle. After them, but always above them, followed the loss of my sister and father.

All because of the same intolerable bird. Gracious enough to give me a glimpse of their perils before nudging them to the brink. Impending doom sat, staring at me, from the cup of the only friend I had in town- Janice Rockland. It lingered there amid the froth bubbles, telling me Janice Rockland had twenty-four hours, at most, left to live.

My eyes watered. My throat closed all the tighter. Even after it dislodged my Belgian waffle. Air battled past my suffocating emotions. I gulped it down, despising myself and fearing for my boss.

Janice and Betty Fae offered me a glass of water and napkins, thinking they’d saved the day. Little did they know. Trouble had just landed in their small town.

Janice watched me through the rest of the meal. If I told her she was about to die, would she be able to eat? I sipped my coffee and avoided conversation.

About the Author:Sarah lives in California, in a home that brings her happiness and hay fever. She loves God, loves her family, and loves freshly brewed coffee. She has a husband who cooks, a son who stop animates, a daughter who loves animals, a dog that follows her everywhere, and a turtle who scowls at her condescendingly.

Her mother raised her on Mary Higgins Clark, Diane Mott Davidson, and Remington Steele. Her grandmother shared True Crime stories with her as they plotted how to get away with the perfect murder. It’s no surprise that Sarah became an award-winning spinner of suspenseful tales brimming with quirky characters. Mysteries are in her blood. Not that she could survive one of her own stories. She confesses, “I’d be snuffed out by chapter two.”

Website | Sarah’s Super Sleuth Squad | Super Squad Newsletter | Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Goodreads

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Ten Things Most People Don’t Know About Jennifer Juvenelle – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jennifer will be awarding a $50 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

10 Things Most People Don’t Know About Me
Here is a fun list of things most people don’t know about me. Even my closest friends might be surprised about a few on the list!

1. I’ve had lots of odd jobs but the one that makes most people who meet me go, “Huh???” is the fact that I became a Medical Assistant and worked in a urology clinic for over a year!

2. I’m a Reiki Master. I discovered energy healing in my early twenties and quickly became a Reiki practitioner.

3. I’m bilingual and a half! I’m fluent in English and French, and thanks to living in Mexico for the last two years, I now speak conversational Spanish.

4. In middle school, instead of walking, I used to skip down the hallways at school. So much energy!

5. I didn’t know I wanted to be a writer until I started writing a book at the age of 32. The very one featured in this giveaway!

6. At 23, I dropped out of college to move to Paris. Bonjour!

7. When I was little I wanted to play in the dirt with worms but I didn’t want to get dirty so I would don a pair of latex gloves and play til my heart’s content!

8. I love the smell of coffee but rarely, if ever, drink it. I’ve never been much of a beverage drinker outside of water until recently. My husband has gotten me into drinking tea (he’s Australian), and living in the tropics has me drinking TONS of coconut water.

9. As an only child growing up, I spoke to cats in their own language. As an adult, I still commune with them whenever possible. Meow!

10. I rejected my husband when we first met! Thanks to years of earnest persistence and genuine friendship, I eventually grew to see what an amazing catch he is! Not to mention doing oodles of work on myself to stop going for the wrong kinds of men. (Can I get an amen!)

Some Family Trees Should Be Burned. . .

Greer Girls are special. Greer Girls are rare. Greer Girls are central to the secret Order of Belial.

Sophie Greer knows none of this. All she knows is that her now ex-boyfriend cheated on her, she’s alone working in Paris, and her mysterious billionaire boss, Edward Hughes, is way too interested in her life.

But when Sophie is kidnapped in Moscow while on a business trip, she’s plunged into the dark underbelly of the global elite and a sinister secret society with deep ties to her family; ties that lead to revelations darker than anything Sophie could have imagined.

Betrayed by the man who raised her, and targeted by the illustrious Hughes family, only one thing is certain—family history can be deadly. If Sophie is to survive, she must decide who to trust and what to believe, or risk being crushed beneath the weight of the all-powerful secret Order of Belial.

Enjoy an Except

Smoke from the other vehicle’s engine fills the back seat. Coughing, I cover my nose and mouth as I desperately search for a solution. The whole right side of the vehicle is smashed in. There’s no getting out that way. I’m considering trying to break the back left window when I spy the dividing curtain swinging in the cool fall breeze.

Tugging the makeshift divider aside, I peek into the front to see the driver hunched over the steering wheel, unconscious. If I move carefully, I might be able to climb around him to get out the driver’s side. I’m about to make my move when the back door squawks open. A large gust of fresh air rushes into the banged-up vehicle. My head swivels to assess the new arrival.

No. It can’t be. A trillion queries rise and fall as I look upon my assailant—my savior? It’s too much. Between the plane ride, the abduction, and being left alone to rot for a week in a gaudy prison then carted out like a virgin for sacrifice, I’m spent. Where does it end?

There’s a popping sound as my mouth forms a tiny O in stunned surprise. Edward, looking like James Bond in a classic European-cut suit (probably Armani) and a light-grey dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, is standing in the open doorway, hand outstretched in a gesture of chivalry as if these were the most natural circumstances under the Russian moon. I give him a blank stare.

“I told you I’d find you.” His silky voice floats past my ears, rattles around in my brain and down to my chest, where it nuzzles itself snugly into my heart.

About the Author: JENNIFER JUVENELLE is a Native American/French author born in Hollywood, raised in Detroit, and fashioned in France. Formerly an actress and model, Jennifer now splits her time between crafting psychological thrillers and the magic of motherhood. A survivor of childhood sexual abuse, Jennifer made healing from trauma a priority when her life became untenable. Daughter of Belial is the unexpected product of her journey from trauma to triumph. An eager explorer, she currently lives in a remote Mexican seaside-jungle village with her debonair Aussie author husband and their young son.

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A room of one’s own, with extras by Jinny Alexander – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jinny Alexander will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A room of one’s own, with extras

In my daydreams I write in a tidy, warm, quiet room, on a cliff-top, overlooking the sea. On bad-weather days, the windows are shut tight and the raging volume of lashing water – rain or sea – can’t get in. On calm days, or gentle-breeze days, the windows are flung wide open, and I sit industriously at an intricately-carved, cast-iron table, tapping away at an old-fashioned typewriter…

If I spent less time daydreaming and more time writing, maybe this would become my reality. Reality is a small, converted bedroom, painted a warm egg-yolk yellow, filled with my day-job paraphernalia – cuddly toys, flashcards, puppets, files and papers, pens and diaries. I’m an online ESL teacher when I’m not a writer. Much of this ESL clutter spills over into ‘things I use for writing’. You can never have enough pens and notebooks, right? The view from my window is not over the sea, although I can’t complain. I live in the country and am surrounded by mature trees and rolling fields.

From my window, I get to watch the ever-changing seasons, although, to be honest, I would see them better if I got up and cleaned the glass – another thing for the Procrastination from Writing List. Today is sunny, and windy and the view from the window is all about the orange glow of autumn and dancing shadows as the trees rustle in the wind. Unfortunately, my windows are old, and draughty, so inside the room, things also rustle in the wind. Mainly the screwed-up papers of novel ideas and plans I wrote and then changed as soon as I began to transfer them to the laptop, or the heap of discarded tissues in the bin; proof that at this time of year (autumn through to spring) the coldness of this old house will seep into my bones and leak out again in sniffs and sneezes.

Also in this room is a laundry airer, usually full of wet washing, and artfully placed to be out of webcam view. I prefer not to air my clean washing in public – my dirty washing, of course, is the stuff my books are made from! My webcam focuses on the bookshelves behind me, with its carefully selected writerly books, books I’ve written, and educational books for teaching. Not like the teetering stack of mixed novels beside by bed, which includes anything from chicklit to psychological thriller to the latest 2022 debut to research to mystery and back again. When one of my online students told me he thinks I live in a library, my heart swelled and the backache I get from sitting slightly askew to ensure ‘best background view with no dripping socks or knickers’ was instantly worth it.

Add to this yellow-walled room at least one dog; maybe two. Sometimes a cat, sometimes two. Sometimes all four animals at the same time, fighting over the chair, scratching at the door to come in, or to go out. Add also, a large and hairy spider who has lived in the sash of the window for so long I miss him when he doesn’t come out, and you’d be forgiven for thinking that my room is most certainly not my own.

You’d be mistaken. This, for now, is a room of my own, in which I will write the next novel, and the next, and the next. The cats and dogs remind me I must get up and leave it from time to time, but, for the time being, it is the room where I will work and write and stare out the window daydreaming for as long as it takes to get that other room; the one on the clifftop with the sea raging below.

Ballyfortnum Get Slim group–putting the die in diet.

In the close-knit Irish Village of Ballyfortnum, getting slim might just get you dead. Mystery-lover Jess O’Malley is distraught when her elderly friend dies, but that’s not all–he’s the third of the local slimming group to die this year and it’s only February. Is something amiss in the Get Slim group?

Jess, aided by her sidekick Fletcher, her boisterous Labrador, must convince local policeman Marcus that there may be a murderer at large in the village. If she doesn’t solve the mystery, will another of the dieters end up dead? Or worse–if she doesn’t stop asking awkward questions, will Jess become the next victim?

Enjoy an Excerpt

Jess shuddered, remembering how, on the Wednesday of that week, she had bumped into Breda in the refrigerator aisle of one of the supermarkets in Lambskillen. They chatted for a while in front of the fish section, each clasping a warming bag of prawns while discussing the merits of various shellfish. Breda had never had mussels before, she’d said, peering dubiously into the fridge.

“Nor any shellfish, sure I haven’t,” she’d told Jess, brimming over with the enthusiasm of one discovering new tastes. She gestured back towards the fridge. “Nor octopus … sounds suckery—however would you cook it?”

There was a whole section of seafood recipes in the newest Get Slim magazine that she was going to try out, Breda said, managing to sound both wary and excited. Adding a jar of tartare sauce to her basket, Breda moved on.

Jess returned her own lukewarm bag of prawns to the fridge, and selected instead a bag of battered onion rings from the freezer below, tossed them into her trolley, and wheeled off into the wine aisle. She waved at Breda across the car park as they loaded their shopping into their respective car boots.

Three days later, as she’d considered the news Mrs Dunne had shared, wondered if Angela had been trying out the same recipe. Food poisoning, Mrs Dunne had reckoned. Dodgy prawns? Jess shudder as she relived the moment she’d decided to choose unhealthy—but delicious—battered onion rings instead of the nakedness of wrinkled prawns, put off by the thought of accidentally purchasing something healthy that Kate might construe as a sign to try to persuade Jess to join Get Slim.

About the Author:Jinny was first published in Horse and Pony magazine at the age of ten. She’s striving to achieve equal accolade now she’s (allegedly) a grown up. Jinny has had some publishing success with short story and flash competitions and secured a publishing deal in December 2020 for her first three novels. The first of these, Dear Isobel, was released in March 2022. A Diet of Death is Jinny’s second novel and the first in her Cosy Mystery series. Jinny is currently studying an MA in Creative Writing at the University of Hull, UK.

Jinny also teaches English as a foreign language to people all over the world. Her home for now is in rural Ireland, which she shares with her husband and far too many animals. Her two children have grown and flown, but return across the Irish Sea when they can. She quite likes to shut the door on them all and write.

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Daughter of Belial by Jennifer Juvenelle – Spotlight and Giveaway

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

Some Family Trees Should Be Burned. . .

Greer Girls are special. Greer Girls are rare. Greer Girls are central to the secret Order of Belial.

Sophie Greer knows none of this. All she knows is that her now ex-boyfriend cheated on her, she’s alone working in Paris, and her mysterious billionaire boss, Edward Hughes, is way too interested in her life.

But when Sophie is kidnapped in Moscow while on a business trip, she’s plunged into the dark underbelly of the global elite and a sinister secret society with deep ties to her family; ties that lead to revelations darker than anything Sophie could have imagined.

Betrayed by the man who raised her, and targeted by the illustrious Hughes family, only one thing is certain—family history can be deadly. If Sophie is to survive, she must decide who to trust and what to believe, or risk being crushed beneath the weight of the all-powerful secret Order of Belial.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Smoke from the other vehicle’s engine fills the back seat. Coughing, I cover my nose and mouth as I desperately search for a solution. The whole right side of the vehicle is smashed in. There’s no getting out that way. I’m considering trying to break the back left window when I spy the dividing curtain swinging in the cool fall breeze.

Tugging the makeshift divider aside, I peek into the front to see the driver hunched over the steering wheel, unconscious. If I move carefully, I might be able to climb around him to get out the driver’s side. I’m about to make my move when the back door squawks open. A large gust of fresh air rushes into the banged-up vehicle. My head swivels to assess the new arrival.

No. It can’t be. A trillion queries rise and fall as I look upon my assailant—my savior? It’s too much. Between the plane ride, the abduction, and being left alone to rot for a week in a gaudy prison then carted out like a virgin for sacrifice, I’m spent. Where does it end?

There’s a popping sound as my mouth forms a tiny O in stunned surprise. Edward, looking like James Bond in a classic European-cut suit (probably Armani) and a light-grey dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, is standing in the open doorway, hand outstretched in a gesture of chivalry as if these were the most natural circumstances under the Russian moon. I give him a blank stare.

“I told you I’d find you.” His silky voice floats past my ears, rattles around in my brain and down to my chest, where it nuzzles itself snugly into my heart.

About the Author

JENNIFER JUVENELLE is a Native American/French author born in Hollywood, raised in Detroit, and fashioned in France. Formerly an actress and model, Jennifer now splits her time between crafting psychological thrillers and the magic of motherhood. A survivor of childhood sexual abuse, Jennifer made healing from trauma a priority when her life became untenable. Daughter of Belial is the unexpected product of her journey from trauma to triumph. An eager explorer, she currently lives in a remote Mexican seaside-jungle village with her debonair Aussie author husband and their young son.

Facebook | Instagram | Website

Buy the book at Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway