Astraeus by Haley Cavanagh – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions to celebrate the release of the audio version of ASTRAEUS. Haley Cavanagh will be awarding a $10 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.

One pre-apocalyptic Earth. One desperate space mission to find a solution. One unexpected alien.

When Dr. Sakota Thorell signed onto the mission to scout out a new, habitable planet, she knew discovering extraterrestrial life was always a possibility. But she never expected to find an alien adrift in space, nor for that alien to be so intriguing. Sakota feels an instant and undeniable attraction to Astraeus, but he represents a million possibilities, and just as many threats.

There are others hunting Astraeus, and his rescue may cost Earth its last hope.

Enjoy an excerpt:

“What are you called? What’s your name?”

He opened his mouth, and she moved closer, eager for his first words. Instead, he focused on her lips with obvious fascination. His intriguing eyes caught the light. Despite her disappointment that he couldn’t speak, a rush went through her. Alien or not, he was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on, with the kind of ethereal elegance some upper-class, privileged men on Earth spent fortunes on plastic surgery trying to achieve.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk, or if you can’t. We’ll get there. Now, I’m going to check you.” She kept her voice gentle, as she might use with a child. She pressed the button to disengage the protective bubble over the med bed and shone the retinal scanner in her own eye to demonstrate. “I just need to look at your eyes with this.” She motioned with the scope to him. “It won’t hurt. I promise.”

Warm puffs of his breath blew on her neck as she leaned in. She paused, noting the remarkable eight-pointed star-shape of his pupils. The mutation was his one physical difference, and only if one looked closely. The pupils dilated when hit by the scope’s light. She’d never seen eyes as remarkable.

“You’re doing great,” she soothed. Her head burst with countless questions. Where are you from? How did you get here? What do you want?

He appeared to like the cadence of her voice. His posture relaxed, and his breath against her was steady. How long had she been staring into his eyes? Should she push her luck and try to examine his mouth?

Before she could try, his finger stroked her inner arm. He was still restrained at the wrists, but he could reach her.

She allowed it. He stroked a featherlight finger along her forearm. As he did so, his gaze never left hers. She offered a kind smile. “That’s right. Friend. Sakota. Sa-ko-ta.”

He opened his mouth and let out a chicken-like squawk. “-Ota,” he said in a throaty, deep voice.

She raised her eyebrows. “Good. Very good.”

He tilted his head, watching her lips. “Gooood.”

Excited, she lowered the retinal light. “Can you understand me?”

He looked confused. “Me…”

“Okay. That’s a no. Then let me take this opportunity to say, in no uncertain terms, you, my friend, are the stuff of dreams and legends. I’ve waited my whole life for this. Are you getting this, Alistair?” she called out.

He came in over the speakers. “I am. Amazing. I’ll get to work on a linguistics program. Our friend seems to want to communicate.”

About the Author:

Haley Cavanagh is a military veteran, wife, and mother. She is an alumna of Columbia College, a musical theater nut, and she loves to dive into any book that crosses her path. Haley resides with her family in the United States and enjoys spending time with her husband and children when she’s not writing. She loves to hear from her readers, and encourages you to contact her via her website and social media.


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The audio book for Astraeus is live at Amazon, Amazon UK, or Amazon AU

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions to celebrate the release of the audio version of ASTRAEUS. Haley Cavanagh will be awarding a $10 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.

One pre-apocalyptic Earth. One desperate space mission to find a solution. One unexpected alien.

When Dr. Sakota Thorell signed onto the mission to scout out a new, habitable planet, she knew discovering extraterrestrial life was always a possibility. But she never expected to find an alien adrift in space, nor for that alien to be so intriguing. Sakota feels an instant and undeniable attraction to Astraeus, but he represents a million possibilities, and just as many threats.

There are others hunting Astraeus, and his rescue may cost Earth its last hope.

Read an excerpt:

“What are you called? What’s your name?”

He opened his mouth, and she moved closer, eager for his first words. Instead, he focused on her lips with obvious fascination. His intriguing eyes caught the light. Despite her disappointment that he couldn’t speak, a rush went through her. Alien or not, he was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on, with the kind of ethereal elegance some upper-class, privileged men on Earth spent fortunes on plastic surgery trying to achieve.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk, or if you can’t. We’ll get there. Now, I’m going to check you.” She kept her voice gentle, as she might use with a child. She pressed the button to disengage the protective bubble over the med bed and shone the retinal scanner in her own eye to demonstrate. “I just need to look at your eyes with this.” She motioned with the scope to him. “It won’t hurt. I promise.”

Warm puffs of his breath blew on her neck as she leaned in. She paused, noting the remarkable eight-pointed star-shape of his pupils. The mutation was his one physical difference, and only if one looked closely. The pupils dilated when hit by the scope’s light. She’d never seen eyes as remarkable.

“You’re doing great,” she soothed. Her head burst with countless questions. Where are you from? How did you get here? What do you want?

He appeared to like the cadence of her voice. His posture relaxed, and his breath against her was steady. How long had she been staring into his eyes? Should she push her luck and try to examine his mouth?

Before she could try, his finger stroked her inner arm. He was still restrained at the wrists, but he could reach her.

She allowed it. He stroked a featherlight finger along her forearm. As he did so, his gaze never left hers. She offered a kind smile. “That’s right. Friend. Sakota. Sa-ko-ta.”

He opened his mouth and let out a chicken-like squawk. “-Ota,” he said in a throaty, deep voice.

She raised her eyebrows. “Good. Very good.”

He tilted his head, watching her lips. “Gooood.”

Excited, she lowered the retinal light. “Can you understand me?”

He looked confused. “Me…”

“Okay. That’s a no. Then let me take this opportunity to say, in no uncertain terms, you, my friend, are the stuff of dreams and legends. I’ve waited my whole life for this. Are you getting this, Alistair?” she called out.

He came in over the speakers. “I am. Amazing. I’ll get to work on a linguistics program. Our friend seems to want to communicate.”

About the Author:

Haley Cavanagh is a military veteran, wife, and mother. She is an alumna of Columbia College, a musical theater nut, and she loves to dive into any book that crosses her path. Haley resides with her family in the United States and enjoys spending time with her husband and children when she’s not writing. She loves to hear from her readers, and encourages you to contact her via her website and social media.

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The audio book for Astraeus is live!

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Shades of Justice by Carolyn Arnold – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Carolyn Arnold will be awarding a personalized paperback copy of Power Struggle to a randomly drawn winner (International Giveaway) via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The line between good and evil isn’t always clear…

Detective Madison Knight has risked her badge—and her life—in the pursuit of justice before, and she just might need to do so again. Two victims are found murdered and naked in the home of Steven Malone, who is the largest contributor to the Stiles PD. One victim is his wife. The other victim is a John Doe. This high-profile double homicide immediately pits Madison against her sergeant, who seems more intent on protecting the Malones’ reputation and retaining a benefactor than catching a killer.

Madison will need to pull on her tenacity and courage if she’s going to follow the evidence without prejudice. In the process, it becomes clear that finding justice isn’t always black and white, and often the shades in between tell the fullest story—and it’s not something she will forget anytime soon.

Read an Excerpt

“What’s up?” Madison asked her partner as she bunched up the empty wrapper and tossed it into a garbage bin. It bounced off the edge and then went in. Score: three points.

“Where have you been?” Terry’s face was flushed, his nostrils slightly flared, his eyes wide, his chest heaving. Even for looking unhinged, every one of his blond hairs lay perfectly in place. She, on the other hand, resembled a blond cockatoo most of the time.

“I’m waiting,” Terry pressed. He was certainly in a mood this morning, and he was coming across as if he were the senior detective. He was three years her junior. “I tried calling you five times, left two messages. Why weren’t you answering your phone?”

Crap. She’d been so focused on chocolate she’d forgotten to turn her phone’s ringer back on. She rectified that and saw the missed calls. “I had an appointment.”

Terry pointed to her phone. “You had your ringer off?”

“I had an appointment,” she repeated while shifting her weight to her right hip and jutting out her chin.

“While you’ve been off doing whatever, we had a double homicide land in our lap.” Terry tapped the paper he was holding, and it sank in that it was likely a search warrant. “Quite a high-profile case at that,” he added.

He already had her attention with “double homicide.” As a city of about half a million, Stiles saw its share of murders, but rarely were two bodies found together at the same time. “I’m listening.”

“A man and a woman. Don’t have an ID for him, but she’s Lorene Malone.”

About the Author: CAROLYN ARNOLD is an international bestselling and award-winning author, as well as a speaker, teacher, and inspirational mentor. She has four continuing fiction series—Detective Madison Knight, Brandon Fisher FBI, McKinley Mysteries, and Matthew Connor Adventures—and has written nearly thirty books. Her genre diversity offers her readers everything from cozy to hard-boiled mysteries, and thrillers to action adventures.

Both her female detective and FBI profiler series have been praised by those in law enforcement as being accurate and entertaining, leading her to adopt the trademark: POLICE PROCEDURALS RESPECTED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT™.

Carolyn was born in a small town and enjoys spending time outdoors, but she also loves the lights of a big city. Grounded by her roots and lifted by her dreams, her overactive imagination insists that she tell her stories. Her intention is to touch the hearts of millions with her books, to entertain, inspire, and empower.

She currently lives in London, Ontario with her husband and beagle and is a member of Crime Writers of Canada and Sisters in Crime.

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And don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter for up-to-date information on release and special offers.

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How to Handle Negative Criticism by M.F. Sullivan – Spotlight and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

How to Handle Negative Criticism

Ah, negative criticism. Being a writer is difficult when you have an ego, and it’s almost impossible to avoid developing an ego as a writer. What’s a person to do? It seems like a lot of websites have cliched advice about lighting candles in the tub and confiding in friends, and by all means, please do. (Whatever you do, don’t respond!)
But I find that I go through a detailed mental process—a review of the review, if you will—regardless of whether I want to or not. That said, this mental process helps me shake off the odd bit of criticism (which, for what it’s worth, is usually motivated not by poor writing, but by soliciting the wrong audience members for the type of market—I suspect this is a problem with much negative criticism of good books), so perhaps a young writer plagued by thoughts of negative criticism can use my advice well.

First, examine the feeling the review instills in you. Are you angry? Insulted? Upset? Why are you having that reaction? With any strong emotional response, investigation is called for. Not to mention emotional honesty. Ultimately, with every negative critique or review, we have to stop to ask ourselves, “Am I reacting this way because this person has a point, or because they’re wildly off-base?”

A good example of this: my second novel, The Lightning Stenography Device, was a pretty controversial release. As a mix of intense literary fiction with a dash of horror which then morphs into a fantasy fable, a lot of readers expecting swordfights were turned off by literary pontificating, and a lot of people loving the literary stuff got upset at the fabulous turn halfway through. In between those, quite a few people loved it—the book has 21 reviews on Amazon.com at the time of this writing, the vast majority of them very positive—but because I used NetGalley to find reviewers, I got a lot of people who just weren’t the intended audience.

That said, I was still struck by the comments about the slow pacing of the first half of The Lightning Stenography Device, and I was forced to admit I agreed. It was a slow book for the first half; it wasn’t designed to be a fast-paced book, and for a second release while I’m building an audience, that might not have been the best idea. It became all the more important to me to apply these more valid critiques to my next work. As a result, The Disgraced Martyr Trilogy is fast-paced, funny, and sometimes horrific—I was pleased during proofreading galleys of The Hierophant’s Daughter to find I got through it in two days, which had yet to happen with one of my own final novels. So sometimes, when you listen to advice, good things can happen.

Next, isolate and ignore parts of the message which are negative messages about you, or which are baseless (sometimes seemingly intentional) misunderstandings or misrepresentations of your work. A lot of articles about negative reviews fail to take into consideration the utter vitriol with which a reader somehow slighted by a book is capable of responding. Understand that reading can be a very challenging experience on an emotional level, sometimes for reasons readers don’t consciously understand. They may be angry that you’ve inspired certain feelings or made certain points, but they may be unable or unwilling to articulate that anger in a coherent way—instead, they’ll leave you a one-star Amazon review with a tone like you’ve just taken their cat out back and shot it. Once the bitter anger they’ve bounced back onto you with this digital poison pen letter dissipates, you’ll see they’ve made themselves look like clowns by getting angry at a piece of artwork, and they’ve increased the standard of deviation for your book, and left the true source of their displeasure in the subtext of their review.

Remember, too, all classics have a vast standard of deviation; when I was bemoaning The Lightning Stenography Device’s harshest review, I looked up a review of the Philip K. Dick masterpiece, VALIS, which was almost identical and had the same complaints. Hard-working writers are always despised as much as they’re revered. You’ll hit the people you’re meant to hit.

Finally, ignore the rude. I once got a letter from a woman who said, “Maybe people would respect you as a writer if…” This was the only bad letter to which I’ve ever responded, because she did point out a valid grammatical error I’d made, and I wanted to know if she had a few examples so I could correct them—but oh how I grit my teeth while I did! Had to let that little line of hers whizz right by my head while I did it, of course, but that’s what an adult’s self-control is all about—and that’s what negative reviewers, and people who are generally rude, don’t have.

After all this mental processing is done—go to bed! Sleep on it. Take a nap. If I’ve done the emotional processing I need to undergo, by the time I wake up the next day, the emotional impact of any bad review is cut drastically. In fact, the impact of sleep on our emotions is a prominent theme in The Disgraced Martyr Trilogy: I strongly believe we should sleep on our problems and let them sort themselves all out tomorrow! Adopt my strategies, and maybe you’ll come to agree with me.

By 4042 CE, the Hierophant and his Church have risen to political dominance with his cannibalistic army of genetically modified humans: martyrs. In an era when mankind’s intergenerational cold wars against their long-lived predators seem close to running hot, the Holy Family is poised on the verge of complete planetary control. It will take a miracle to save humanity from extinction.

It will also take a miracle to resurrect the wife of 331-year-old General Dominia di Mephitoli, who defects during martyr year 1997 AL in search of Lazarus, the one man rumored to bring life to the dead. With the Hierophant’s Project Black Sun looming over her head, she has little choice but to believe this Lazarus is really all her new friends say he is–assuming he exists at all–and that these companions of hers are really able to help her. From the foulmouthed Japanese prostitute with a few secrets of her own to the outright sapient dog who seems to judge every move, they don’t inspire a lot of confidence, but the General has to take the help she can get.

After all, Dominia is no ordinary martyr. She is THE HIEROPHANT’S DAUGHTER, and her Father won’t let her switch sides without a fight. Not when she still has so much to learn.

The dystopic first entry of an epic cyberpunk trilogy, THE HIEROPHANT’S DAUGHTER is a horror/sci-fi adventure sure to delight and inspire adult readers of all stripes.

Enjoy an Excerpt

The Disgraced Governess of the United Front was blind in her right eye. Was that blood in the left, or was it damaged, too? The crash ringing in her ears kept her from thinking straight. Of course her left eye still worked: it worked well enough to prevent her from careening into the trees through which she plunged. Yet, for the tinted flecks of reality sometimes twinkling between crimson streaks, she could only imagine her total blindness with existential horror. Would the protein heal the damage? How severely was her left eye wounded? What about the one she knew to be blind—was it salvageable? Ichigawa could check, if she ever made it to the shore.

She couldn’t afford to think that way. It was a matter of “when,” not of “if.” She would never succumb. Neither could car accident, nor baying hounds, nor the Hierophant himself keep her from her goal. She had fourteen miles to the ship that would whisk her across the Pacific and deliver her to the relative safety of the Risen Sun. Then the Lazarene ceremony would be less than a week away. Cassandra’s diamond beat against her heart to pump it into double time, and with each double beat, she thought of her wife (smiling, laughing, weeping when she thought herself alone) and ran faster. A lucky thing the Governess wasn’t human! Though, had she remained human, she’d have died three centuries ago in some ghetto if she’d lived past twenty without becoming supper. Might have been the easier fate, or so she lamented each time her mind replayed the crash of the passenger-laden tanque at fifth gear against the side of their small car. How much she might have avoided!

About the Author: M.F. Sullivan is the author of Delilah, My Woman, The Lightning Stenography Device, and a slew of plays in addition to the Trilogy. She lives in Ashland, Oregon with her boyfriend and her cat, where she attends the local Shakespeare Festival and experiments with the occult.

Blog | Twitter | Amazon Author Page | Goodreads

Buy the book at Amazon, NetGalley, or Barnes and Noble.

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The Character Interview by Bishop & Fuller – Guest Blog and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Bishop & Fuller will be awarding a $25 Amazon or 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 and see our review here.

The Character Interview

Some writers, to pull out of the doldrums or to access other parts of the brain, switch from keyboard to notepad, jump to another project, get drunk—many options, and we use them all, to some degree and with mixed degrees of success. A less common technique for fiction writers—but of great value—is the character interview.

We have the advantage of being veteran actors for whom “embodiment of the other” is the heart of the trade. But we’ve offered countless workshops for folks ranging from priests to felons to teachers, and have vivid memories of the “characters” who’ve emerged. Anyone can do it. No different, really, than what happens when you put on a tux, high heels, or just a different hat or hair-do: a new “you” emerges.

For the writer, the process is simple. You choose one of your characters. You turn on a recording device. You embody the character. A colleague asks you questions. You reply as the character. You might spend ten minutes, you might spend an hour. Afterward, you listen to what you’ve recorded, take notes or transcribe sections that are useful.

There’s a difference between sitting at the keyboard and embodiment. Start with putting on the character physically: what feels right at each stage: the spine, the way the person sits, the breath pattern, the variations of eye focus, the physical points of tension. What does the person do with his/her hands? How often do they shift? Vocal placement? How does adopting different physical elements affect how you think, vocal patterns, pauses, compulsive flows?

This isn’t a performance: it’s an exploration. Lots that’s said will be irrelevant, some will be contradictory, some will be dead stupid. But it’s like a first draft: it’s up to you what stays and what goes. Granted, it can feel for a moment as if you’re stark naked, but if you’re simply focused on being the character, that quickly passes.

It requires a partner—friend, spouse, fellow writer—but with no special skills. It’s not playing a scene, a cross-examination or therapy: it’s just asking questions that occur, from the sublime to the ridiculous. We’ve had a question like, “What’s your favorite color?” result in a major new character element. It’s good to give them a brief summary of the character and what the character does—but make it brief. One value of the session is to see what questions arise in the questioner.

Another value, sometimes, is to see what your character doesn’t answer, and how he/she avoids it. We all have our bounds, and the “wrong” question might receive a hard stare, a stammer, or a circumlocution worthy of a Presidential candidate. Those are as useful as the most brilliant flow of words.

With BLIND WALLS, based on our 1997 play, which involved a great deal of improvisation in its development, the one character that was greatly expanded in the novel was the blind tour guide, Raymond Smollet, who serves as the unwilling narrator of the story he encounters on his final tour before retirement. We had talked a lot about his backstory, but what came to us in the interview was more his “manner” than any concrete information. His gestural pattern, his slightly-arch, slightly self-deprecating humor, his willingness to accept what life might offer him—all these were there, sorta, in earlier drafts, but the interview gave us a solid grasp.

And same as with any editorial comment, review, or nightmare, the real challenge is in deciding what’s useful.

[If you do happen to try this, we’d love to hear how it worked for you, or how it didn’t. We’ve done it many times in workshops, but never tried to coach long-distance. Email us at eye@independenteye.org.]

It’s a monstrous maze of a mansion, built by a grief-ridden heiress. A tour guide, about to retire, has given his spiel for so many years that he’s gone blind. On this last tour, he’s slammed with second sight.

He sees the ghosts he’s always felt were there: the bedeviled heiress, her servants, and a young carpenter who lands his dream job only to become a lifelong slave to her obsession. The workman’s wife makes it to shore, but he’s cast adrift.

And the tour guide comes home to his cat.

The pairing of Bishop and Fuller is a magical one. . . . It’s a brilliant opus, melding the past, present, and future with intimate, individual viewpoints from a tightly arrayed cast of believable characters in as eerie a setting as might be dredged out of everyman’s subconscious searching. . . . Blind Walls offers a weird alternative world, featuring a blind man with second sight and an acerbic wit as its charming, empathic hero.

—Feathered Quill

These characters are so well developed that one has to think of them as live people – laughing with them and crying with them, even getting old with them. This is an amazing story based on the Winchester Mansion and told with such quiet, compelling, raw humanity that the reader simply can’t stop until the entire tale is told. A wonderful, spooky look into others lives and what may or may not happen on any given day.

—Dog-Eared Reviews

Bishop and Fuller have constructed a story rich with imagined detail and visionary ideas about life’s possibilities. The cast of ghostly characters, servants, workman, and family light up the story with dramatic effect as their actions and choices are observed. . . . The authors’ prose is effortless and moves easily from humorous to weighted seriousness. The dialogue is perceptive, giving voice to compelling characters and particularly to the tour guide whose second sight he confers on the readers. The latter will not want to look away from the myriad rooms of Weatherlee House.

—US Review of Books

Enjoy an Excerpt

As always, I stood by the Here sign under a fig tree sprinkled scantily with small ripe figs. Behind me, as always, I felt the looming massive labyrinth of Weatherlee House.

Being a short man, I habitually assumed a military stance, stretching myself upward at least a quarter of an inch. My clipped hair, which I’m told is mostly gray, added gravitas to my otherwise bland face, or so I imagined. My tour guide’s uniform—crisp navy blazer, burgundy rep tie—bulged only modestly at the midriff. A brass name plate, over the buttoned pocket where my heart might be, labeled me Raymond Smollet. My round wire-rimmed black glasses were the only discordant feature in my demeanor. The fact is that I am blind.

The figs and my necktie hue I knew only by report. The wire-rims made my nose itch. I had tried wrap-arounds, but my supervisor Mr. Bottoms said they looked creepy. In fact, Management surely discerned that I looked even creepier with wire-rims. I could intuit patrons peering in sideways at my fixed milky orbs, a perfect match for those haunted-house billboards that sucked them in. People would pay top dollar to visit alien worlds where the only true risk was blurring a snapshot.

Today was the final day of my life and now the final hour. Final, at least, for life as I had lived it. I stood cockily under my fig tree on the brink of my retirement—a Friday that marked the completion of thirty years as a tour guide of Weatherlee Ghost House.

About the Authors: Conrad Bishop & Elizabeth Fuller’s 60+ plays have been produced Off-Broadway, in regional theatres, and in thousands of their own performances coast to coast. Their two public radio series Family Snapshots and Hitchhiking off the Map have been heard nationally. Their books include two previous novels (Realists and Galahad’s Fool), a memoir (Co-Creation: Fifty Years in the Making), and two anthologies of their plays (Rash Acts: 35 Snapshots for the Stage and Mythic Plays: from Inanna to Frankenstein.)

They host a weekly blog on writing, theatre, and life at www.DamnedFool.com. Their theatre work is chronicled at www.IndependentEye.org. Short videos of their theatre and puppetry work are at www.YouTube.com/indepeye. Bishop has a Stanford Ph.D., Fuller is a college drop-out, but somehow they see eye to eye. They have been working partners and bedmates for 57 years.

Website | Facebook | Conrad Bishop Amazon Page | Elizabeth Fuller Amazon Page | Conrad Bishop Goodreads | Elizabeth Fuller Goodreads | Conrad Bishop Facebook | Elizabeth Fuller Facebook | YouTube

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The Rings of Faolan: Rubies by Kristal Dawn Harris

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn commenter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

From the first, Michael Faolan and Natalie Terrence knew they were destined to be Lycan mates, but constant danger in Michael’s life keeps them separated. They are stalked by the hunters, a group of men who plan to eradicate all Lycan as vermin. Natalie refuses to acknowledge the bond that she has with Michael until hunters burn down his barn and he is gravely injured. She cannot resist his call, even with the threat hanging over his head. Michael Faolan has secrets of his own, but he is happy to accept Natalie’s ministrations. Their attraction ignites into flames of passion as they continue to fight the hunters. Could his secrets dampen the hunger Natalie feels for her mate, or can they use that desire to build a family and forge a love so strong no man, woman, or beast can tear them apart?

Read an Excerpt:

Pale moonlight descended over Heather Ridge, adding a menacing air to its aged appearance. Her eyes slowly lifted to the second-floor windows as she thought of Michael. He dominated her every moment and had secretly become her own private obsession. She felt his eyes. She sensed his presence. Silver orbs gazed back from the dingy, dark windows. Her hand involuntarily came up to rub the base of her throat. She couldn’t look away, spellbound in the moment. Her feet refused to move. It felt like forever passed when the outline of his body finally turned away from the window.

Natalie’s nervous laugh broke the eerie silence of the twilight. The porch light turned on at that exact moment, and she jumped. Her breath caught in her lungs and she doubled over gasping for air. She chided herself for being afraid and shook her head. She was Lycan, a predator, and she belonged in the night, but the wind refused to support her confidence as it moaned through the forest.

Natalie shivered and rubbed her arms as gray fog leaked from the forest. It swirled around the corners of the house just as her feet climbed to the top of the limestone steps. She stopped only for a moment and watched with wide eyes as it creeped slowly up the steps behind her. With her back against the front door, she turned the door knob. The front door creaked as she pushed it open then slammed shut with a loud bang.

About the Author:

Kristal Dawn Harris is an American author, born in Middletown, Ohio, on August 16, 1970. She currently resides in Ohio with her husband. Kristal has been married for 27 years and has two children. She graduated from Carlisle High School in 1988, then furthered her education at Miami University. She has a business degree in Accounting Technology. Kristal spent twenty years working as an Office Coordinator in the hospital until she released her debut novel, “The Rings of Faolan-Emeralds,” through The Wild Rose Press.

In 1999, Kristal suffered a debilitating disease called “Guillain-Barre Syndrome.” This rare disease damaged the nerves in her body requiring the use of drop-foot braces in order to walk. Kristal considers herself a survivor and encourages anyone with a disability to follow their dreams.

Kristal has one more book contracted with The Wild Rose Press which will release in 2019. She is considered a hybrid author since she published “Hand-Carved Wolf” on her own. Kristal is an avid reader who enjoys romance from all genres, but paranormal is her favorite.

CURRENT BOOKS BY KRISTAL DAWN HARRIS

The Rings of Faolan-Emeralds
Hand-Carved Wolf
The Rings of Faolan-Rubies
The Burn
The Red Heart

UPCOMING RELEASES

Red Snowflakes


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Til Death Do Us Part by K.S. David – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. K.S. David will award a $20 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn commenter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Quinn McGuire is settling into her new life just fine. She’s moving beyond the trauma of her past. She’s fallen in love with her best friend, Jack Lassiter, and slowly rebuilding the career she’d once abandoned. Then her old nemesis is arrested for murdering her husband. To the surprise of everyone, Glenda Penderherst wants Quinn to represent her as legal counsel. Quinn doesn’t do criminal defense anymore. Nope, she’s focusing on areas a little more refined – less drama.

Naomi Banker, the resident vibrational therapist, asks Quinn to look into an intellectual property rights claim. The request seems innocent enough – but boring. Things soon spice up when Quinn discovers that Naomi was romantically linked to Glenda’s murdered husband. Soon, more bodies start to surface and like it or not, Quinn finds herself caught in a whirlwind of broken hearts and private alliances, all while trying to manage a few special secrets of her own. She’s convinced of Naomi’s innocence and starts to dig for answers. But if she’s not careful, she’ll end up being added to the body count.

Enjoy an Excerpt:

“That went well,” I teased. Jack and I stood on the front lawn of his mother’s home. He rocked back and forth on his heels, a sheepish grin brightening his tan face. The tension that had hardened his shoulders earlier was gone.

“I don’t regret holding back our news,” he said, “but I understand their disappointment.” Taking the edge of my jacket and drawing me closer, he confessed, “Call it selfish, but I liked having you all to myself for a while. Now that Emma knows we’re official, she’s going to drag you from one end of Kentucky to the next. When the baby comes it’s going to be impossible to keep those two ladies back.”

“I know, but we’ve been planning to have this conversation for weeks, even before we found out about the baby.”

“Do you wish we’d done things differently?” He lowered his head to gaze deeper into my eyes. “That you’d had the pretty gown? Family and friends.”

“Absolutely not. I can’t imagine a more magical moment than our wedding day and I wouldn’t have wanted anything different.”

While his mother and T-Lynn were overjoyed to hear our good news, their delight had turned to irritation. We’d left them out of one of the most significant moments of our lives. Not only had we gotten married without them, we’d been living with the secret for months.

Emma had planned her son’s wedding since birth, expecting him to marry at the house and fill their massive lawn with tents for hundreds of guests. She wanted to plan engagement parties and bridal teas. She wanted to shut down the hussies at the country club when she sat me beside her and she wanted to see their salty faces when they realized her Jack wouldn’t be marrying any of their daughters.

Jack rubbed his derriere where T-Lynn had given him an old-fashioned slap on the ass. “Vegas, Jack! You took her to Vegas? Of all the places in the world to get married, that’s where you took Quinn?” She’d pressed her fingers to her temples and sighed. “I pray that Elvis wasn’t your officiant and Marilyn Monroe wasn’t a witness.”

The truth was that we were married in the Valley of Fire at sunset. I don’t remember the heat, though Jack says it was sweltering. I don’t remember details like the red sand dunes or the ancient Indian petroglyphs. The only thing I remember with absolute clarity was the way Jack looked at me when we exchanged our vows. I remember feeling a sense of love and yearning for him so strong and full, it felt like my heart would burst. And I remember that when Jack kissed me, after we’d been announced man and wife, the taste of him was so wonderful that it eclipsed anything that had ever given me pleasure before.

I lifted on the tips of my toes when Jack leaned in to kiss me. Just inches from my embrace, he asked, “So, you want to tell me why you were late? And don’t give me that story again about checking on your client’s case.”

“Geez, that’s right.” I’d almost forgotten. “I was with Naomi.”

“The crystal lady?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You taking her case?”

About the Author: K. S. David lives in the Mid-Atlantic with her husband, their three children and a menagerie of pets. New storylines are constantly running through her head. She keeps notebooks tucked in pockets of the car, the nightstand and makes voice recordings just about all day long. She’s addicted to true life mysteries and crime shows, both of which marry well with a great romance. Some of her favorite things are long walks, reading in bed, baking and of course, writing her next novel.

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Jars of Clay by Mary Ann Poll – Guest Blog and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Mary Ann Poll 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.

Jars of Clay
Mary Ann Poll
America’s Lady of Supernatural Thrillers
“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” 2nd Cor 4:7

A day came when I was confronted with an indisputable fact. My eternal soul lives in nothing more than crockery. That day changed me forever – literally.

You see, I come from “good peasant stock.” In other words, I am a direct descendant of the hard-working American farmer. In a time when women were seen as weak, I prided myself on the fact I could do, and enjoyed, heavy physical labor usually reserved for men. I am also blessed with a decent intellect. So, I could not only take care of myself, I could make a good living. Until…

I awoke for another day of work. I stretched that wonderful morning stretch and stopped in tear-producing pain. It gave me pause and caused a nagging concern. I shook it off, took an Advil and went to work.

By noon, I couldn’t stop the pain unless I held my right arm at chest-level. My resolve to ignore the pain gave way to tears. Me, the proud and independent woman, was forced to call my husband to take me to the emergency room!

The diagnosis was serious. A disc herniated in my neck, and I faced surgery with a long recovery.

With this incident, I came to a place where I promised myself I would never, never go. This self-sustaining woman became physically and financially dependent on others. In the blink of an eye, everything I thought made me valuable had been ripped away. Despair and devastation flooded my mind and soul.

Just as with all grief, I went through shock, denial, anger, then acceptance. I saw the orthopedic surgeon who said, “You need surgery—yesterday!”

After I heard the risks involved, and because I am one who has more terror of an operation than of pain, I looked for other alternatives. (In retrospect, I do not recommend my approach to healing a herniated disc sitting in the spinal column. However, hindsight is 20/20.)

So, in my ignorance, I went to regular physical therapy sessions. They did little to alleviate the pain. Finally, I found an osteopath who was willing to adjust my muscles to help alleviate the spasms while the disc healed. I did small things to help my neck stay limber and to keep me moving.

It just so happens my only pain-free activity was reading. So, I read. Always the over-achiever, I read 100 books in three months. To keep me (and himself) sane, my dear husband made trips to the library.

By the grace of God, I began and continued to heal. I was so happy. I dreamed of returning to my life before this unfortunate affliction. I was destined for another deep disappointment and a time of overwhelming sadness.

No matter how I wanted to go back to my previous career, I couldn’t. I was unable to sit at an office desk and computer for more than a couple hours a day.

One day a friend of mine said, “You should write a book.”

I laughed. And laughed. And laughed. “Not happening,” I quickly answered.

As you may have guessed, my fear spoke for me. It terrified me to put something on paper and submit it to a publisher. Rejection is not my favorite feeling.

Still, after the initial feelings subsided, I thought about it. The more I thought, the more I became interested. After days (maybe weeks) of the idea rolling around the back of my head, I said, “What do I have to lose? It’s not like I’m going to submit anything to a publisher. I can just write. It gives me something to do.”

As I said, I could spend a couple of hours at a computer. I used those couple of hours to try my hand at novel writing. I sat down and stared at a blank screen. In a matter of minutes, the words cascaded out of my brain onto the paper. I could barely type as quickly as my mind was creating the scene.

The energy behind the writing should have been a definite and undeniable sign that I was destined to be an author. But no.

It took five years for me to defeat the self-doubt. To be honest, in those years, I was trying to convince myself I was not a writer, and I was being foolish. But, the passion and the excitement of writing would not leave.
I finally took writing classes, joined a writing forum, and talked to my family until they were ready to throw me out on my ear. (Kidding, they were very supportive. They still are.)

In 2010, I was blessed to see my first book Ravens Cove, An Iconoclast Thriller, in hard copy. When I held the book in my hands, I was flooded with joy, excitement and a overwhelming sense of achievement. What a wonderful day that was!

Between 2011 and 2017 I wrote three additional books which completed the Iconoclast series. This year, I was even more blessed when Ravens Cove came out in a second edition. A new book and yet the same.

When my disc ruptured, I thought my world was ending. To my amazement, God performed a miracle and put me on the road I was meant to travel. A road where I am constantly pulled out of my comfort zone and made to grow. A road where I live an abundant life—full of joy, and passion; and yes, a road where, on occasion, I must jump over the puddles of self-doubt and potholes of fear. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Endings aren’t always endings. Sometimes, they are amazing beginnings to the rest of our lives.

Welcome to Ravens Cove, Alaska, a tiny town nestled in a small hollow on the majestic Cook Inlet. A town familiar with storytelling—after all, Alaska abounds in rich legends. In Ravens Cove, though, legends have a tendency to come to life.

Meet Josiah Williams, the peculiar stranger whose warning to lifetime residents Kat Tovslosky and her cousin, Sheriff Bart Andersen, raises more questions than answers; a man whose dark past and knowledge of the murders make him a suspect more than an ally. Join Kat and Bart as an unlikely troop forms (including a very unwelcome FBI agent) to discover the identity of a killer. The unearthing of which will throw the reluctant warriors into a battle for their very lives and the lives of all who call Ravens Cove home.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Josiah marched to the back of the church, lifting his hand, waving it back and forth to part the black mist covering the door.

It shot to one side before he walked through, a dark curtain blown by an invisible wind.

The dark mist, Atramentous by name, vibrated with hatred, then fear at what he saw. An angel of God stood beside this man.

“Uriel!”

The angel turned and nodded. “Atramentous.”

Atramentous bent his head to avoid the blinding light. After they passed, he raised his head, formed an invisible mouth, a deep red chasm where the black mist had been. A guttural, gurgling roar spewed out to sound the alarm, sending sleeping birds flying into the sky crying in terror.

About the Author: I’m Mary Ann Poll, America’s Lady of Supernatural Thrillers and charter member of Author Masterminds. The first question most people ask is, “What is an Iconoclast?” Iconoclast means, “The destroyer of religious beliefs or symbols.” I took this definition and applied it to the supernatural realm, which is how the Iconoclast Thriller series was born. My books revolve around the battle between good and evil. They also revolve around the heroic acts of ordinary people who must face extraordinary, even unbelievable, circumstances.

I draw from real-life experiences, as well as my imagination, to create these supernatural thrillers. My love for a creepy, goosebump-creating ghost story and my love for Christ come together in these books.

I am a proud pet lover, which is also reflected in my writing. In my off time, I enjoy gardening, swimming and spending time with beloved family.

I pray you enjoy reading Ravens Cove as much as I enjoyed writing it. Blessings in Christ!

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Murder by Munchausen by M.T. Bass – Spotlight and Giveaway

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

A police procedural sci fi thriller ripped from future headlines!

After Jake shoots and kills a murder suspect who turns out to be the son of a powerful city councilman, he finds himself demoted to the Artificial Crimes Unit, tracking down androids hacked and programmed to be hit men.

When his case of an “extra-judicial” divorce settlement takes a nasty turn with DNA from a hundred-year-old murder in Boston and a signature that harkens back to the very first serial killer ever in London, Jake finds himself tangled up in the brutal slayings of prostitutes being investigated by his former Robbery/Homicide partner, Maddie–who is now his lover.

But a madman, The Baron, is just getting started with his AI recreations of Jack the Ripper’s brutal crimes. And Maddie and Jake are teamed up again to stop the carnage as the Baron’s army of human replicants imitate history’s most notorious serial killers.

“It might not make sense, but the beloved Media tags it ‘Murder by Munchausen.’ For a price, there are hackers out there who will reprogram a synthoid to do your dirty work. The bad news: no fingerprints or DNA left at the crime scene. The good news—at least for us—is that they’re like missiles: once they hit their target, they’re usually as harmless as empty brass. The trick is to get them before they melt down their core OS data, so you can get the unit into forensics for analysis and, hopefully, an arrest.” [excerpt from Murder by Munchausen]

Artificial Intelligence? Fuhgeddaboudit!

Artificial Evil has a name…Munchausen.

Enjoy an Excerpt

The Three Laws

1. A civilian-owned and operated synthetic humanoid entity may not act in any manner so as to engage in or cause any harmful or offensive contact against a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

2. A civilian-owned and operated synthetic humanoid entity must obey the directives and orders given it by human beings except in those instances where such directives and orders would conflict with the First Law.

3. A civilian-owned and operated synthetic humanoid entity may protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws.

Federal Technology Administration Regulations

About the Author:

M.T. Bass is a scribbler of fiction who holds fast to the notion that while victors may get to write history, novelists get to write/right reality. He lives, writes, flies and makes music in Mudcat Falls, USA.

Born in Athens, Ohio, M.T. Bass grew up in St. Louis, Missouri. He graduated from Ohio Wesleyan University, majoring in English and Philosophy, then worked in the private sector (where they expect “results”) mainly in the Aerospace & Defense manufacturing market. During those years, Bass continued to write fiction. He is the author of eight novels: My Brother’s Keeper, Crossroads, In the Black, Somethin’ for Nothin’, Murder by Munchausen, The Darknet (Murder by Munchausen Mystery #2), The Invisible Mind (Murder by Munchausen Mystery #3) and Article 15. His writing spans various genres, including Mystery, Adventure, Romance, Black Comedy and TechnoThrillers. A Commercial Pilot and Certified Flight Instructor, airplanes and pilots are featured in many of his stories. Bass currently lives on the shores of Lake Erie near Lorain, Ohio.


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Cakewalk to Murder by MK Scott – Spotlight and Giveaeway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. MK Scott 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.

Bake-off fever is in full-swing and Donna can’t help but have visions of becoming the next great baking star, but the competition is stiff, and someone is willing to kill to win.

When one of the contestants is found dead, a twist of fate puts Donna at the center of the competition. That’s the perfect position to unravel the mystery, but only if she doesn’t get caught in the crosshairs.

 

Enjoy an Excerpt

The judges strolled to the next baker standing proudly by a five-layer cake dusted with cocoa and decorated with live violets.

“This is the one,” Donna declared and scooted up in her wing chair to be even closer to the television.

Her college-age helper, Tennyson, stroked his scruffy beard in a fair imitation of her husband, Mark, when he was in his contemplation mode. Ten dropped his hand and shook his head. “I don’t know. What about Alastair? He used all those egg whites to make his cake lighter.”

“Please.” She lengthened the word, then gave a derisive snort. “That’s so old fashioned. My great grandmother did that. Judges wanted something new, cutting edge, while still bringing indescribable joy to their taste buds.”

“You think putting flowers on a cake will do it?”

A door sounded in the distant before Donna could reply. Currently, there were no guests in the inn, and she had locked all the doors guaranteeing she could have peace while watching The British Bake-Off Show. Unfortunately, she couldn’t lock out Tennyson who had taken an interest in the program.

Jasper, her aging puggle, gave a welcome bark. It meant Mark was back from his Chamber of Commerce meeting, which he agreed to attend so Donna could watch the show in real time. If she had recorded it, Janice would ruin it by calling her up, telling who the winner was, and would make all manner of comments as if she had actually seen the show. No, thank you.

The judges talked amongst themselves as the tension built. Often, she imagined herself on the show and what she would make to tempt the finicky judges. The contestants must be nervous. Strangely enough, Donna was, too. A throw pillow found its way into her hands, and she squeezed the pillow as the judges mentioned the third and second place finishers. They might have called them winners, but almost everyone conceded there was only one winner.

“And the winner is…” The lead judge paused for a moment. “Alastair! With his lighter than air angel food cake. It reminded me of my dear old Granny and her ability to make every moment special.”

About the Author:

M. K. Scott is the husband and wife writing team behind The Painted Lady Inn Mysteries and The Talking Dog Detective Agency. Morgan K Wyatt is the general wordsmith, while her husband, Scott, is the grammar hammer and physics specialist. He uses his engineering skills to explain how fast a body falls when pushed over a cliff and various other felonious activities. The Internet and experts in the field provide forensic information, while the recipes and B and B details require a more hands-on approach. Morgan’s daughter, who manages a hotel, provides guest horror stories to fuel the plot lines. The couple’s dog, Chance, is the inspiration behind Jasper, Donna’s dog. Overall, both are fun series to create and read.

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Living in Shadows by Anna Volk – Guest Blog and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Anna Volk 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.

*****

My advice to a new author is to write for yourself. Follow your dreams. I write for myself and will probably never be able to support myself with my writing career. It is definitely not a get rich quick scheme. I’m so thankful for my husband working to support us as I follow my dreams as an author. Do not be afraid of corrective criticism. I do my best work after receiving it. I may not change everything that I am criticized on but it sure makes me stop and think. It allows my creative juices to flow.

This is just a little something about me. I never, ever allow my family to critique my book. I once made the mistake of having my hubby (whom I love dearly) read through one of my stories. Now just a little info, hubby is not a reader (that should have been my first clue) Any how back to my story. Hubby laughed at my work…. It wasn’t funny and I was so hurt…. I vowed than that he would never read another word. Don’t get me wrong my Hubs is incredibly supportive and I couldn’t do what I do with out him. But if you’re going to have someone critique your work have a fellow reader do it for you. Know your audience. Side note the book he laughed at got great Reviews… Again, get critiques from people that are interested in your types of stories.

Don’t be afraid to follow your dreams. Write what you Love. Your writing is something that can never be taken away from you. Even if you never sell a book. How many people can say that they did, no one can take that accomplishment away from you.

Four Powerful Couples, All Living In Shadows

Walking In Shadows Dylan and Jilly have been rivals for years yet Dylan has always been attracted to Jilly but will there new found love survive her secrets?

Hiding In Shadows Savannah has suffered betrayal and chooses withdraw from the world. Is Jimmy the man to drag her from her self-imposed prison.

The Hunter Cassandra and Michael are in love and can’t wait to announce their engagement. But Michaels brother Justin wants Cassandra for himself even if the result is Michael’s death.

Defender of Shadows Marcus has spent years walking and hiding in shadows. Now he must learn to trust and accept help to get redemption and protect the woman he loves and more importantly whom loves him despite the shadows that lurk within.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Dylan moved to stand behind her. “Come on, Jilly; give me a chance to prove I’m not the poacher you think I am.”

Jilly sighed, tired of fighting for everything and everyone, tired of being alone. Sable lived with her but she seldom left her bedroom. It might be nice to have a conversation with someone else and Dylan was right they did share a lot of the same interests.

“Okay, dinner and a movie. I have to work at the bait shop until seven. I’ll meet you at my place after I close.” she conceded and climbed onto the bench seat of her truck; the slamming of the door echoed in the now quiet back road.

“Great, I’ll see you then.” Dylan looked to make sure her back was turned before fisting his hand and bringing his knee up “yes!” he mouthed while doing a little victory dance. Jimmy watched the whole thing from the tailgate of his pickup and smiled before lifting another chip to his mouth.

“Later, Jilly.” he waved as she pulled away. Jilly winked as she threw a treat out the window which Jimmy caught one handed.

“See that the old girl gets that, will ya?”

Jimmy laughed and saluted her with his pop can. “You’re a trial, Jilly. You’ll drive him nuts,” he said to himself as she was already flying down the road with the dust trailing behind her. He tipped the can to his mouth and swallowed the last drops of the cola. All was good; Dylan needed someone special in his life and he’d always had feelings for Jilly. Things were about to get very interesting. He dusted the crumbs from his Levis and jumped off the tailgate of the old pick-up and rubbed his hands together. Let the fireworks begin.

About the Author: I’ve been an avid reader my whole life. When pregnant with my 2nd child I decided to try my hand at writing. 21 years later I’m still doing what I love. I’ve been married to the love of my life for 29 years. We have two wonderful boys who have grown into remarkable young men and have found beautiful soulmates. I have been blessed with my first grandbaby and he keeps us all on our toes and fills our days with laughter.

I love to hear from my readers. You can visit my Facebook Page Anna’s Journey to receive sneak peeks of my works in progress as well as links to purchase my books.

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