All the Missing Pieces by Julianna Keyes – Spotlight and Giveaway

September 17, 2020 By 2 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Julianna Keyes will be awarding a physical $25 Amazon GC, (US/Canada only) to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Reese Carlisle hates her life. Three years after her father’s arrest for one of the largest embezzlement schemes in history, twenty million dollars is still missing, and the world believes she knows where it is.

Two years after her brother’s death, they still think she killed him.

One year later, she’s still hiding.

When the loneliness is too much, she seeks out strangers for one dark night, no questions asked. She makes up a name, puts on a disguise, and tries to forget.

One night she meets a new man. She tells him her name is Denise, she’s a dental assistant, and she loves dogs. He tells her she’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s funny. Things she hasn’t heard in too long.

Things that are too good to be true…

Enjoy an Excerpt

I enter my dark apartment, the wall of windows providing enough ambient light to see my uninspired, decidedly minimal decor. I drop my purse and press my back to the door, sliding down to the floor. My black skirt rides up my thighs and my legs flop apart, knees rubbery, ankles weak.

I’d like to think I had too much wine, but that’s not true.

Not even after a night of halfway decent sex am I this shaky.

I know what the issue is.

My gaze flickers to my purse the way it would to a ticking time bomb. I fumble with the clasp before retrieving the shiny black room key and turning it over and over in my hand like a magician with no trick.

I yank off the cheap wig. I have a closet full of them, thanks to my brother’s short-lived career in theater management. They’re one of the few items that were returned to us after the raid. At least they came in handy. They help me become Harriet and Isabel and Jess. People nothing like the person I was. And most definitely nothing like the woman I am.

The stranger wouldn’t want this woman. He likes redheads with brown eyes who laugh when they’re not supposed to. My once-bleached hair is back to its natural black, my fingernails haven’t been painted in three years, and I only bother to shave my legs when I have a date. I don’t think the stranger would know what to do with this girl. He could read a million newspaper stories exposing my father’s crimes and hypothesizing about mine and never find the truth.

Liar. Thief. Murderer. Whore.

It’s in there somewhere.

About the Author: Julianna Keyes is a Canadian writer who has lived on both coasts and several places in between. She’s been skydiving, bungee jumping and white water rafting, but nothing thrills—or terrifies—her as much as the blank page. She loves Chinese food, foreign languages, baseball and television, though not necessarily in that order, and writes sizzling stories with strong characters, plenty of conflict, and lots of making up.

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Sleeping with the Enemy by Jackie Barbosa – Spotlight and Giveaway

September 16, 2020 By 2 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jackie Barbosa 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.

When Mrs. Laura Farnsworth discovers the blood-stained body of a man wearing the distinctive red coat of the British army, her first instinct is to let dead dogs lie. It has, after all, been just two days since the Battle of Plattsburgh, and the disposition of enemy corpses is hardly her purview. But then the man proves himself to be very much alive by grabbing her ankle and mumbling incoherently.

After almost twenty-five years in His Majesty’s service, Lieutenant Colonel Geoffrey Langston never expected to wake up in heaven, much less being tended by an angel. But when he regains consciousness in the presence of a beautiful, dark-haired woman and with no memory of how he came to be there, what else can he think? Except it’s rather odd for an angel to have an American accent.

As the long-widowed Laura nurses the wounded Geoffrey back to health, the attraction between them heats from a simmer to a boil. Bound by his oath to the British crown, Geoffrey should be working to find his way back to his regiment and from there, to England. Instead, he’s sleeping with the enemy…and thereby committing the crime of desertion if not treason. But then, who’s going to find out?

If only Geoffrey didn’t have a family back home who refuse to take “missing in action” for an answer.

Enjoy an Excerpt

As she added seasoning to the broth, she contemplated the question she had not dared ask herself before he awakened. What should they do with Lieutenant Colonel Langston now?

The obvious answer would be to take him to Fort Moreau as soon as he could reasonably be expected to tolerate the journey. There he would be held by the army as a prisoner until such time as the war ended, at which point he would likely be returned to the British in exchange for American prisoners. He would be treated well during his stay, insofar as any person denied his freedom could be said to be treated well, and eventually return home to his family in England. Clearly, it was the only reasonable—and possibly the only lawful—course of action.

Why, then, did even the idea fill her with misery and remorse? It wasn’t as if she knew anything about him save his name, military rank, and nationality.

And that he had beautiful eyes in a shockingly handsome face.

Dear God, am I really that shallow? That shameless?

Then again, perhaps after almost ten years alone, she had earned the right to be the slightest bit shallow, the tiniest bit shameless.

About the Author:

I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want to be a writer when I grew up, but there were plenty of times when I wasn’t sure I ever would be. As it turns out, it just took me about twenty years longer to grow up than I expected!

On the road to publication, I took a few detours, including a stint in academia (I hold an MA in Classics from the University of Chicago and was a recipient of a Mellon Fellowship in the Humanities) and many years as a technical writer/instructional designer for a data processing company. I still hold my day job, but my true vocation has always been writing fiction and romance in particular.

I’m a firm believer that love is the most powerful force in the world, which that makes romance the most powerful genre in the world. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise!

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They Called Me 33 by Karen Chaboyer – Spotlight and Giveaway

September 16, 2020 By 4 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Karen Chaboyer will be awarding a $20 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.

Karen longed for acceptance, validation and love, but had no ability to form healthy, meaningful relationships. Born into a large family already suffering the effects of two generations of residential school, and surviving her own nine years at St. Margaret Indian Residential School, Karen (like everyone she knew) had been systematically stripped of her dignity, identity, language, culture, family and community support systems.

Not wanting to be alone as an adult, Karen tolerated unhealthy relationships with family and partners. Still, she was coping. But after suffering further trauma, Karen turned to alcohol and other addictions to numb her pain.

Eventually, Karen found the strength to reach out for help. She learned to grieve through layers of shame and was finally able to embrace her identity. Karen also discovered what has long been known in her culture – the healing power of sharing your story. Karen would now like to share this book, her story, with you.







Enjoy an Excerpt

My Childhood


It was a hot sunny day; a soothing breeze was flowing off the lake through the open screened windows. My mother and I were both lying sideways across a double bed, next to the open window, enjoying the afternoon together. I was on my stomach, legs in the air, as my eyes followed a bee buzzing around outside the screen window. My mother was lying on her side, legs dangling off the bed. She was a hard-working woman, young in spirit, all the while loving her family. There was no rest, having twelve children to tend to, but that afternoon she was taking a break with me anyway. Out of the blue, I asked, “Mom, what was it like when you gave birth to me?” 



Mom looked out the window, reminiscing on the day she gave birth to me. Her face brightened as she began to tell her story. She said she went into labour the wee hours of the morning, and as the sun began to appear across the horizon, she prepared for her journey into town, packing a suitcase with her belongings and some baby clothes. My mother prayed that she would make it to the hospital on time. She had plenty of experience giving birth. 





Dad took the suitcase down to the boat. There, he carefully prepared our big ole fishing boat for the trip by making sure there was plenty of gas and by laying blankets on the floor of the boat, so Mom could lie down as she bore each contraction. As my mother wobbled down the hill toward my dad, he grabbed her hand and helped her into the boat. He made sure she was comfortable on the blankets before starting their journey. Like all dad’s, he was nervous. He remained silent and hoped they would make it into town on time. The two-hour ride seemed like eternity. 


The water was calm and serene and looked like a glass mirror. There was no breeze, and all you could hear was the motor putting slowly across the lake. Occasionally, my mother moaned in pain as she would breathe into each contraction. While gasping, Mom saw a stork flying across the lake as they approached our Couchiching First Nation reserve. Immediately, upon seeing the stork, Mom had suspicious thoughts that her baby might be taken away. She prayed that she would make it to the hospital safely and that I would be healthy. 



As my parents approached land, houses appeared on the lakeshore, and she knew that things would be fine. As Dad docked the boat, he climbed out of the boat and opened his hands to help Mom out of the boat. Once he had the boat docked and Mom was safely on land with her personal belongings, he ran to the nearest house to call a taxi. The trip to the hospital was only a ten-minute drive, but they had railway tracks to cross. If the tracks were blocked by a train it would prevent them from getting into town.




God answered their prayers, and everything turned out fine. Mom explained that I was a dry birth because her water broke several hours before I was born. Despite it all, Mom and Dad became proud parents once again. I was now the tenth child and second girl in the family. It was mandatory that we stayed in the hospital for the next ten days as my mother recuperated and regained her strength. When we checked out, I had a good bill of health.


About the Author:

Karen Chaboyer is an Ojibwa mother and grandmother from Rainy River First Nations, a community in northwestern Ontario. She is proudly admired by her children, who have witnessed her transformation as she worked through layers of shame and learned to embrace her identity. A second-generation survivor of residential school, Karen now shares her experiences with audiences throughout the Toronto area, where she now resides. Karen’s goal is to educate people on the extent to which the tragedies of the residential school system have impacted individuals, families, communities and entire cultures to this day.


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Baculum by Christina Bauer – Cover Reveal and Giveaway

September 15, 2020 By 1 Comment

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a Dragon leather journal to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

As King of the Thrax, Lincoln leads the most powerful demon fighting force in the after-realms … yet he cherishes nothing more than his Angelbound love, Myla. All of which is why Lincoln loses his freaking mind when a demon horde targets his pregnant wife.

So. Not. Happening.

Sometimes, a warrior just needs to ignite his baculum sword and kick a ton of evil ass.

ANGELBOUND LINCOLN
 

Stories from the perspective of Mister The Prince

1. Duty Bound
2. Lincoln
3. Trickster
4. Baculum
5. Angelfire

 

About the Author:

Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too.

Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.

Be the first to know about new releases from Christina by signing up for her newsletter.

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That Dreaded Reality of Public Readings: Or, How to Put Together a Night of Readings of Local Authors by Ron Kearse – Guest Blog and Giveaway

September 15, 2020 By 4 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Ron Kearse 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.

That Dreaded Reality of Public Readings: Or, How to Put Together a Night of Readings of Local Authors

Many authors are introverts and don’t like being the center of attention. Meanwhile there are others like me who have hambones as wide as the sky. One of the realities of being a writer/author is that, at some point, you will be encouraged to appear in front of an audience to read a passage or two from your story. In spite of being the show off that I am, when I began to understand that concept, it sent a bit of a chill through me.

Over the years, I have acted in plays, and I’ve been a co-host for both radio and television community broadcasting programs. I was used to being in front of an audience, and apart from the usual stage-jitters I was fine being there.

So, just as the release of my first novel was immanent, I was told that I should seriously consider a launch party where I would have to read a passage from the novel for up to forty-five minutes. This was different from my past experiences, as I would be telling a story, much of which was based on happenings from my past, and it made me feel vulnerable. Talk about feeling like I was going to be naked in front of an audience!

In spite of that, I made arrangements with a local independent book store to help me host a launch party for my novel. They provided the refreshments and set up provisions for book sales, and I provided the audience. Everything was tremendous! I had a good turn-out, and chose a part of the novel that I had always found amusing and the audience appreciated it too.

There have been several things that I’ve learned as I’ve been putting together reading nights since that time. The first is, it’s easier than I originally thought, because there is always help available to you, you just need to ask. The second is that it’s always more fun when you can assemble up to a half-dozen authors for a night of short readings. Your audience appreciates it as well.

It’s always good to try to have authors of different genres, (poetry, short stories, novels, I’ve even had a musician appear a couple of times). And it helps if you can give the evening a catchy name. One of the participating authors suggested that we should call the evening Authors Unbound. So that became the name for the series.

Your local library is always an ideal place to assist arranging a reading night. There may be a nominal security fee, but they will gladly help you put an event like this together. In many cases, that would include having your event posted in their newsletters and e-notices, as well as assuming responsibility for setting up the space, providing the microphones, etc., and clearing the space afterward.

Many independent book stores are fantastic when it comes to playing host to reading nights, it always means possible business. Most times, they will happily arrange for all book sales be done through their till. That makes sales easier to deal with for everybody. It’s standard practice for the book stores to ask the authors to provide an invoice for: the names, titles, suggested prices and the number of the individual books being consigned to them.

It’s always good to have some refreshments on-hand as well, even the basic chilled, bottled water. People will appreciate it. Some libraries may be hesitant about having food and liquids on premises, but others will make provisions for refreshments, as will independent book stores. Check information like that beforehand.

Oh, and of course, have a display table of the participating authors’ works–usually at the back, or to the side of the room for book sales, and an available float as well–in the case of a library where cash registers are not usually available.

You’ll want to advertise your event as well: posters and flyers on community billboards, small notes in the Community Section of your local community newspaper, and libraries and book stores will post your event on their websites. Of course, don’t forget word-of-mouth notice, I’ve found that it’s more powerful than we give it credit for.

One would think that during the Covid 19 crisis, book readings would be non-existent, and I’m sure in a lot of cases this is true. However, I’ve done a quick-scan of the Eventbrite website for Vancouver and area, and found there are many book readings still happening in spite of Covid. It appears that you have to reserve a seat ahead of time, and you have to come prepared to social distance and wear a mask, but they are still happening! The best advice I can give you is for you to check with your local library and independent book stores to see if they are still hosting book readings at this time.

All of this is to tell you that if there are no book readings happening in your area, you can make them happen. And once you’ve put together a couple of reading nights, it becomes a really easy thing to do. Just remember, there is always lots of assistance available to you to arrange these events. Just ask.

Just Outside of Hope, the sequel to Road Without End, moves through the early years of the 1980s. It takes us from the Canadian Prairies to the pubs, bath houses and nude beaches of Vancouver, British Columbia.

It is now September 1980 and ex-Lieutenant Jim Whitelaw is dealing with the guilt he feels from the fall out of a military tribunal, and lingering family issues which make things worse. But just as he feels he’s getting his life together, cracks appear once more and he has to make some serious decisions.

Meanwhile, in a matter of a moment, Jim’s friend and sometimes lover Bert Gilhuis, finds himself trapped in a serious situation that eventually sees him set off on new adventures in Vancouver.

These are two more stories in the continuing series of the lives of gay men who lived through the most exhilarating and terrifying of times.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Bert stares silently down at the table. This moment of silence seems like forever.

“I’m going to miss the hell out of you, Jim. It’s too bad you’re leaving. We could have had something really good together.”

Then he takes a deep breath. “What does it matter though? I’m probably going off to jail for the next little while, and even if you stayed here, I probably wouldn’t be seeing much of you for God-knows-how-long anyway.”

We’re silent again.

“I think it’s good that you’re going back to help your family in their time of need,” he says. “I really hope your father will be okay, somehow, and I really hope that someday you can come back to Calgary.”

I smile at him and nod.

One of the guards knocks then opens the door. “Five minutes to count Gilhuis!” Then he shuts the door and goes back behind the counter.

“Count?” I ask, “What’s that?”

Bert looks at me sadly. “That means I have to go. They stick us back in our cells just to make sure we’re all still here,” he says with a sigh. “They do this to us about three or four times a day.”

We’re momentarily silent again.

“Bert, I won’t forget you.”

“Jim, I sure as hell will never forget you. Promise that you’ll write to me?”

I smile sadly and tell him I will. I slowly get up from the table. I look into Bert’s eyes wanting to say something, anything that won’t sound trite or superficial. But what do I say at a moment like this? I want to kiss him, to hug him, but I don’t dare, not in here.

It’s as Bert is reading my thoughts. “You don’t have to say anything, Jim. Just go. You have a life to live.”

I bow my head and leave the room. I open the door I look back to Bert. He has a sad but stoic look in his eyes.

“Goodbye, Jim.”

My voice cracks as I say, “Goodbye, Bert.”

I turn and walk through the door.

I feel overwhelming sadness. It’s strange where time brings everybody. I think of my life and twists and turns it’s taken over this past year and a half. I think of Bert, my father, Glenn, Bryn and Marcel, the military and the tribunal. I think of Cliff who has made a special trip out from Manitoba and is at my place packing some boxes for me. I think of how every change in my life seems to be more dramatic and comes at me more quickly. Somehow though, I seem to muddle through those changes and manage to carry on. I don’t know what these next years are going to bring, but I can tell you this much, I’ll conquer every single one of them. This I promise myself.

About the Author: Ron Kearse lists travelling, photography, art, reading and history as his main sources of inspiration.

An artist, broadcaster, actor and writer, Ron has a colourful and varied work resumé.

Having lived a nomadic life, Ron has finally settled in Victoria, BC where he lives with his partner James Howard.

Just Outside of Hope is the second installment in the Road Without End Trilogy, he has also published a photo book of Vancouver Street Art in the mid-1980s called Lost History.

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A Day With Me Behind the Scenes by Miriam Newman – Guest Blog and Giveaway

September 15, 2020 By 4 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Miriam Newman 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.

A Day With Me Behind the Scenes

Ah, it’s so tempting to lie.

How I would love to write an idyllic scene in which I awake to coffee and croissants in bed served by one of the hunks in one of my books, followed by a leisurely chat with my faithful assistant who will handle the multitude of take down letters issued to sites stealing my books while that person arranges promotions, composes graceful answers to fan mail and perhaps arranges a photo shoot for a new head shot. Presumably, my fans want to see how I really look and not how I looked twenty years ago. Oh, and of course he or she must go the post office to clear out new fan letters and generous royalty checks from publishers.

Instead, here is what happens. Between 4:30 and 5:30 a.m., one of my four rescue dogs steps on my head. Aroused by growls as they fight for this honor, I stumble out of bed—usually cursing—and down the steps with a flashlight in my hand. Eventually all of us are fed, one of us is dressed, and after checking my computer it’s off to work I go. I work for a small rural municipality you’d think would be quiet and peaceful, but you would be wrong. All day long, I will be bombarded by requests for building permits from people who are still pretty much locked down and are taking this opportunity to build a deck, put in a generator (our electric service rivals a Third World country), construct a garage, etc., etc. Sometimes this involves earthmoving and digging that involves the EPA and Health Department because nobody knew it was being done and it is flagrantly illegal. Those days are especially entertaining.

I cannot tell a lie—I do check my emails, my blog and Facebook during the day. Sometimes this prompts me to get straight to work when I get home. More often, it prompts me to take a nap to gather the energy to get to work. Then, after courting my muse with an hour of watching something like Game of Thrones or my current love, Yellowstone, I become the keyboard warrior. This may involve actually hitting keys or it may be a case of staring longingly at my monitor, waiting for inspiration to strike. If I have a work in progress, inspiration usually strikes. If I don’t, it’s a matter of sorting out the dozen books that all want to come out AT THE SAME TIME. It’s like choosing among your children. Eventually, one of them outshouts the other.

That lasts till about 10 p.m., when the same four dogs inform me in no uncertain terms that’s it is time for biscuit and bed.

So this, my friends, is the exciting life of a writer, or at least this writer. At one time, it was punctuated by long stretches of caring for a barn full of horses, which I did happily for fifty years. But it’s time for a rest. You may, however, see some of them making appearances in my books. They are many happy memories.

Born to a mysterious Celtic woman and a Roman father in Britannia, Domi seems destined for a life of ignominy until he is adopted by a Roman tribune. When he is forced to choose between his native land and his adopted one, and between the living and the dead, which will he choose?

Enjoy an Excerpt

Brittania, 60 A.D.

The boy knew Moire was dying. For some time now she had lain on her cot, not eating, barely drinking, complaining of a pain in her side like a beast trying to claw its way out. She was skeletal because she did not eat even when he brought her food, and stank because she could no longer clean herself. It was the same with the animals when they grew old and their time had come—their coats matted, their eyes grew dim. He knew death when he saw it.

It was a sad thing for animals to die so they could be eaten, but why people should die was a mystery. He had often wondered, but had to be content with the Druids’ explanation that they would be taken up by the Tree of Life, to come again. He needed a Druid.

He knew that Moire had hoarded coins in a small box beneath her cot against such an eventuality. Bound by honor, he had never filched a single coin even when he would have liked a sweetmeat to relieve his tedious diet. She did feed him and he had some gratitude for that. He was not a slave, but yet was not her family, so his position had always been tenuous. He supposed she hadn’t been obligated to offer him anything, so he had been honest and worked hard for his keep. But finally, this day, she told him to take out her pathetic horde.

“When I am gone,” she said, “boil the eggs.”

“Boil the eggs?” he repeatedly dumbly. It was the kind of remark that always infuriated her. They had lived together, widow and foundling, for all of his eleven years since his mother had come into the village, far along in labor and claiming no kin. The women had helped her out of kindness, but understood her predicament when she said the baby she delivered came from rape by a Roman. Such a child could be exposed if she wished it, but Moire had asked to have him, pointing out that she had no husband or children to care for her in her old age. And so she had brought him up after a fashion, but they had never understood each other.

“They will keep in the shell if you do not crack them,” she said, more patient than usual. “Take care of the animals and then wrap the eggs and some oatcakes. When I am gone, take them and go to Cloin the Druid. Give him my money and tell him I need burial. Then go south.”

“South?” He was completely confused.

“To the Romans,” she said. “You look like one of them. They may take you.”

About the Author:Fantasy poetry driven by myths and legends has been my passion for as long as I can remember. I was published in poetry before catching the romance writing bug. I bring that background to my writing along with a lifelong addiction to horses, an 18 year career in various areas of psychiatric social services and many trips to Ireland, where I nurture my muse. My published works range from contemporary fantasy romance to fantasy historical, futuristic, science fiction and historical romance. Currently I live in rural Pennsylvania with a “motley crew” of rescue animals.

Website | Website | Blog | The Celtic Rose Blog | Facebook | Twitter | BookBub | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

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A Day with Barb – Behind the scenes…by Barb Jones – Guest Blog and Giveaway

September 14, 2020 By 6 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Barb Jones will be awarding a $15 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.

A Day with Barb – Behind the scenes…

What’s a typical day with me like? Well, how about getting up at 4 AM, regardless of the day of the week it is. The first thing on the agenda is 20 oz of ice cold water, followed by an intense 1.5 hour long work out. In addition to being an IT Senior Level Consultant and an author of Blood Prophecy series, I am also a Fitness Trainer, Nutrition Coach and Master Life Coach. Each comes with a unique set of certifications that I maintain. My workouts vary as I never exercise the same muscle group. Then, it’s off to work till about 5. I work remote, so I don’t have to drive anywhere. What about eating? Simple. I live and eat healthy and allow myself balance with sweets! Really – I can’t be expected to give up chocolate, can I?

Once the work day is done, and I am ready to relax – I enter my cave. This is where I will religiously do the following: work on my family tree for about an hour, prepare for upcoming fitness training sessions with clients, followed by working on all things related to Blood Prophecy. This not only includes fan email, looking at what happened via social media but writing. This is where I really sit down and relax. Sounds pretty straight forward, right? Well, let’s dive into it more. If you noticed, I tend to write like I am really just talking to you about my day. That’s what is relaxing to me. Come enter my world!

What do I do when I write? This is probably what everyone wants to hear, right? Well, let’s start with my office area. The music that I listen to is Nickelback. I can’t really write listening to anything else. I love to use my voice recognition software about half of the time. I use that only when I know exactly what the scene is going to do, or if I need my hands to mimic out a fight scene, for example, and I want to capture it. Otherwise, I will either type or put pen to paper. On some nights, I can write a lot while on others, just a scene or two. The reason it varies is because I write what I feel at that time. I have sticky notes all over the place with ideas, thoughts and more. I’ve even been known to have a story idea while on a date of all things!

When I am done for the day, I usually get another small workout in using my home equipment and then it’s dream time. A lot of my ideas for the books come from dreams, so going to sleep is work for me as I hope to create the next amazing scene or even an idea for the next book!

When the darkness was compelling and the heart knew no bounds, was there really a right choice? With Michael’s life hanging in the balance, Amber had a choice: save her star-fated love or keep on the crusade to unite the magical community. For Amber, her fate was sealed even before her birth and it was her destiny to fight the great battle ahead of her. But, when it came to her heart — her friends, her great love — Amber’s torn. Not only was she the Queen, but she was a human in every sense of the word. She was vulnerable. And so the very people — Chloe and Michael — that gave her strength, quickly became her weakness. It wasn’t her fault she loved too much, was it?

Nevertheless, the Tall Dark Man had set a plan in motion that could threaten the very existence of the Blood Prophecy. Would he gather his dark forces and succeed in destroying Amber once and for all? Or, would she assemble her powerful friends and save the world?

Enjoy an Excerpt

Malakai, Seattle, Present Day

With the betterment of both Michael and Rae, Malakai was glad that they were well and fine; nevertheless, he needed some time to decompress. All the magical commotions that had occurred were too overwhelming for him. He needed some sort of release.

He enjoyed the brisk jog in the park, as he cut through the sharp wind of the cold night. But this did nothing to lift his spirits. He was happy that Amber’s smile finally met her eyes. That was all he’d ever wanted for her: happiness, that’s it. There was nothing more he could ask for—she was his priority. Yet, in the back of his mind, as in his heart, he couldn’t help but believe the ancient legend that he’d heard so long ago was the certifiable truth, as it was written in Eschmun’s scroll.

…her fate is tied to the true alpha of the wolves. A blood drinker will stand formidable, but it is the nature of the child to call upon the true alpha and bring him to the queen’s inner heart.

Could this be the truth? he often wondered as he traveled the world collecting artifacts and evidence supporting this notion. Yes, he’d crafted a reliquary, quite accidentally, and people assumed it was to keep the magic insulated, away from the humans. But that wasn’t the case, at least not for him. He so wanted to believe, just from the sheer fact that it was said in the scroll. But Malakai was a man of logic, driven by cold hard data. Although wanting to romanticize that his destiny was tied with Amber’s, he needed confirmation. He wanted validation for the strong emotions he was feeling.

About the Author:I was born in Hawaii, a place rich with culture and storytellers. As a little girl, scary tales about vampires, werewolves, angels, demons, and witches were my favorite kind — much to my mother’s dismay.

The scarier, the better.

My love for the supernatural never went away, even after moving to Seattle, far from Hawaii’s majestic beaches with unusual colors. Nothing compares to the landscapes of Maui, Lanai, or Oahu. But somehow, Seattle stole my heart anyway. It became the place where my love for stories took on a new form, in a book of my own: The Adventures of Little Arthur and Merlin the Magnificent. This book is for kids who love stories, just like I did.

Then I had an idea while sleeping.

One night, my mind began to work overtime. In a dream, I saw a unique storyline involving all the races and an epic battle of good versus evil. It was a modern day plot with a three thousand year old prophecy, The Blood Prophecy. I finished the first book in 2014, The Queen’s Destiny. Two years later, I released The Queen’s Enemy. The last book in the series, The Queen’s Ascension, released on August 17, 2020.

Today, I live in Florida with its beaches and sunshine. But I’m still a Seattle girl at heart. And so all my stories take place in the Northwest.

I always keep to my roots when I write.

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Over the River and through the Woods: Choosing a Setting for THREADS by Charlotte Whitney – Guest Blog and Giveaway

September 14, 2020 By 24 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.Charlotte Whitney will be awarding a $50 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.

Over the River and Through the Woods

Choosing a Setting for THREADS: A Depression-Era Tale

Set in farm country in in south-central Michigan, during the throes of the Great Depression, THREADS presents a mystery that is unraveled by three sisters: ages seven, eleven, and seventeen. Those who have read the book know that the setting is almost another character. On the surface it’s simply a white clapboard farmhouse, a weathered barn and outbuildings, an immense garden, fields, woods, and creek. But to the girls, it’s a place to frolic while looking for pollywogs in the springtime, to discover arrowheads from previous dwellers, the Pottawatomi Indians, and to make up games to deal with the day-long tedium of picking strawberries or hoeing onions amidst mosquitoes and other blood-hungry insects. It’s also the place where young Nellie, when exploring for pirate treasure, digs up the tiny blue-black hand of a dead baby.

Most of the scenes are played out on the farm. Ma gives bean sandwiches to train riders who eat them out at out the windmill, where they also can get a drink of water. A drunken food thief is apprehended outside of the sloping cellar door that opens to the coal bin. Panic ensues when a fire is discovered in the aging barn. Whether it’s eavesdropping on horse thieves from the henhouse, discovering a rattlesnake down at the “crick,” or outwitting a cruel child molester at the end of second meadow, the setting plays an integral role.

My inspiration for the book was my grandparents’ farm near Marshall, Michigan, a small slice of the rural Midwest during the 1930’s. When I wrote the scenes (the plot is entirely fictional) I always had my grandparents’ farm in mind. In fact, a distant relative emailed after seeing the book’s cover and remarked how similar it was to that farm. This was no accident. I worked closely with the cover artist to achieve that semblance. If you look closely at the cover you’ll see the windmill set between the house and barn, exactly the same as my grandparents’ farm. Also, you’ll notice the dark clouds, depicting a sense of foreboding, a menacing evil floating over the back meadow and woods.

Making the setting my grandparents’ farm, also inspired me to imbue the characters of Ma and Pa with a sense of integrity, honesty, and generosity, characteristics of my own grandparents. Many years ago, I asked my grandma about the Depression. She didn’t want to talk about it, but she did say this, “We were very, very lucky because we only went hungry for a year.” This from farmers who grew their own food, had dairy cows, pigs, and chickens. But remember prices for farm goods had plummeted and there was immense pressure to pay taxes and the mortgage to avoid foreclosure. Many did lose their farms and many farmers went to bed hungry.

An early reader of THREADS indicated that the book wasn’t plausible because Ma gave bean sandwiches to train riders who came to the door asking for a bite to eat, even when they didn’t have enough food for themselves. But that’s exactly what my grandmother did! If my grandma didn’t have a crock of beans, then she gave out sugar sandwiches, made out of bread, butter, and sugar, even if that meant my grandparents, themselves, went to bed without supper.

While writing THREADS, I had no idea that a pandemic was right around the corner. However, I’m hearing from readers about the many parallels with the Great Depression. The loss of lives and livelihoods. The desire to “get back to normal.” Simply not knowing how long it will last. The need to connect with others. The sense of community among neighbors.

I hope in some small way, this book will help ease the way for readers to get through these uncertain times and still provide some hours of escape and entertainment.

It’s a boring, hardscrabble life for three sisters growing up on a Michigan farm during the throes of the Great Depression. But when young Nellie, digging for pirate treasure, discovers the tiny hand of a dead baby, rumors begin to fly. Narrated by Nellie and her two older sisters, the story follows the girls as they encounter a patchwork of threatening circumstances and decide to solve the mystery.

Enjoy an Excerpt

When I woke up this morning the first thing I thought of was that baby. What a dark, scary place for a baby to be buried. So alone, away from everyone. Where were its parents? Babies need to be held and cuddled and kept warm. Even dead babies need to be buried in the churchyard with purty flowers, not off in the cold, dark backwoods.

I keep thinking ’bout the Preston’s baby girl, such a sweet baby. I held her once when Mrs. Preston was sitting beside me on the davenport. The baby kept sleeping, then blew a little bubble and later I could feel her little fart that warn’t stinky at all. All the time she jist kept sleeping. When she finally woke up and fussed, Mrs. Preston picked her up and jiggled her and talked baby talk to her so she quit fussing. That’s how babies are posta be treated.

But thinking ’bout the Prestons made me sad, too. They lost their farm and had to move away to Mrs. Preston’s parents’ place in Indiana. Ma said we might never see them again. Ma and Mrs. Preston both cried when we said goodbye. Pa and Mr. Preston shook hands and Pa bit his lip. I’d only seen him do that once before, at my grandpa’s funeral.

About the Author: Charlotte Whitney grew up in Michigan and spent much of her career at the University of Michigan directing internship and living-learning programs. She started out writing non-fiction while at the University and switched to romance with I DREAM IN WHITE. A passion for history inspired her to write THREADS A Depression Era Tale chronicling the stories of three sisters on a farm during the throes of the Great Depression. She lives in Arizona, where she loves hiking, bicycling, swimming, and practicing yoga.

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Everything Changes by Melanie Hansen – Spotlight and Giveaway

September 14, 2020 By 2 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Melanie Hansen will award a randomly drawn host a $25 Amazon/BN GC. Click on the tour banner to see the rest of the stops.

Two battle buddies. One fateful deployment. Two vastly different sets of wounds. One friendship changed forever.

A childhood in foster care taught Carey Everett to hold tight to what he has. Enlisting in the Marines gave him purpose, but a life-threatening injury ended his career—and took his leg. Now fully recovered, Carey’s happier than he’s ever been. He has a fulfilling job, a chosen family and, best of all, a cherished friendship with Jase DeSantis, the platoon medic who saved his life.

Despite Jase’s heroism in combat, he’s haunted by his actions overseas. Playing music with his band keeps the demons at bay, but it’s a battle he’s starting to lose.

After a week of sun and fun in San Diego, Jase and Carey’s connection takes an unexpected turn. With change comes a new set of challenges. For Jase, it means letting someone else into his deepest pain. For Carey, it’s realizing love doesn’t always equal loss. In order to make their relationship work, they’ll have to come to terms with their pasts…

…or risk walking away from each other for good.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Carey snatched up his crutches and hopped to the kitchen.

Seated at the table with a tumbler, Jase took one look at him and burst into laughter.

“What?” Carey asked crossly. “I have a booger hanging out my nose or something?”

“No, the saying on your shirt.” Wiping his eyes on the hem of his own black tee, Jase wheezed, “‘Marine: Some Assembly Required.’”

Wordlessly, Carey turned to show him the back, which read: “I had a blast in Afghanistan.”

That sent Jase into peals of more laughter, the husky sound brushing like crushed velvet along Carey’s skin. “Glad you find it amusing,” he said drily. “Adele actually gave me this.”

At the mention of the physical therapist who’d treated Carey at Walter Reed, Jase’s cheeks turned pink. Carey couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I know about you two. She told me.”

“She did?”

A perpetually cheerful woman anyway, Adele had had an extra spring in her step one morning as she’d bounced into the amputee clinic. “Had dinner with your friend Jase last night,” she’d said, eyes sparkling. “And also, you know, breakfast.”

Carey had grunted, not in the least concerned about Jase’s sex life. “Can you spot me on the weight bar?” he’d asked, and that was that.

Now he regarded Jase thoughtfully. “It amazes me, how you stay friends with all your exes.”

An indignant look crossed Jase’s face. “What do you mean, all my exes? And Adele isn’t an ex, not really. That was mostly timing, comfort.” He shrugged. “Fun.”

Carey lowered himself into a chair. “Well, she still asks about you when she comes out to work at the ranch. Gets this faraway look on her face.” He snorted at Jase’s smug glance. “Oh, you’re just that good, huh?”

Jase lifted an eyebrow. “Wanna find out?”

Even though Carey knew he was joking, a frisson of remembered heat flashed through him. He cleared his throat. “Nah. You’re the bi one here, not me.”

Their eyes met and held before Jase murmured, “Hmm. Pity.”

It was Carey’s turn to blush as a tingle of heat spread from his belly down between his legs. He risked a glance at Jase again, only to find gentle teasing on his face.

Shaking his head, Carey shot him a rueful smile. “You goof. What would you have done if I’d said yes?”

“If you’d said yes—” Jase got to his feet and poured Carey a few fingers from the bottle of Tennessee Honey liqueur on the counter. After he’d set the tumbler down in front of him, he leaned in close. “I’d have made sure you thoroughly enjoyed yourself. What else?”

With a wink, Jase sauntered off to his bedroom, leaving Carey staring after him, his pulse pounding so hard he wondered if Jase could hear it.

About the Author:

Melanie Hansen doesn’t get nearly enough sleep. She loves all things coffee-related, including collecting mugs from every place she’s visited. After spending eighteen years as a military spouse, Melanie definitely considers herself a moving expert. She has lived and worked all over the country, and hopes to bring these rich and varied life experiences to the love stories she gets up in the wee hours to write. On her off-time, you can find Melanie watching baseball, reading or spending time with her husband and two teenage sons.

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Amber Eyes by Gabbi Black – Spotlight and Giveaway

September 11, 2020 By 7 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Gabbi Black 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.

School principal Gage Clayton is still grieving the death of his wife and submissive, yet he can’t ignore his Dominant needs. As he enters Club Kink, he’s inexplicably drawn to a newly released sub with an intriguing proposition and the most captivating amber eyes. But she has disturbing baggage and her expectations prove quite a challenge, one that would necessitate a commitment he’s not ready for.

Rielle Reid needs a Dom while she waits for her former Master to return. When she invites a handsome stranger to her home dungeon for a night of play, she’s surprised at his gentle dominance—and her response to it. But in the light of day, his demand for equal footing confounds her. After living four years as a twenty-four/seven slave, she has no concept of how to be anything other than property.

Gage must find a way to master Rielle to free them both from the shackles of the past.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Temptation personified.

She leaned over the railing to watch the goingson below, and Gage struggled to identify her expression. Grief? Loneliness? Wistfulness?

Some combination of all three?

As if sensing his gaze, she straightened, angling toward him.

She had caught him staring, and he wasn’t the least bit inclined to turn away. Even in the dim light, her eyes were an amazing light brown. Like brandy—smoky and smoldering. Short brown hair with bangs fringed a delicate face with high cheekbones. Light pink colored her lips, and he
admired their perfect bow shape. Something passed in her eyes, just a flash, but it spoke to him.

Unabashedly he shifted his gaze from her eyes and scanned her body. All-black clothing with stilettos at least three inches high complemented a lean shape with gentle curves around her breasts and hips. Wow, was he actually reacting to her nearness? Not just the subtle beauty, but her impression of a fawn waiting to startle at the slightest noise. A faerie who could disappear if he took his gaze away.

His fingers itched to touch, but that’d be against the rules. Admire? Yes. Touch? Oh hell, no.

About the Author:

Even though Gabbi Black is a firm believer in happy endings, she makes her characters work for it in every romance she writes, no matter what the genre. From contemporary to BDSM, they are penned late at night in her home on a beautiful British Columbia mountain surrounded by magnificent trees and every conceivable woodland creature—including bears. She also writes gay romances as Gabbi Grey.

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