Trailblazer by Michelle Diener – Spotlight and Giveaway

March 28, 2019 By 3 Comments

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

He’s on a mission . . .

She’s running for her life . . .

And if they get off-planet alive, she’ll have to trust he won’t reveal her darkest secret.

Tally Riva is not what she seems, and even she’s not happy about it. Infected, invaded, she’s not quite sure how to describe it, but on a disastrous mission to a ghost ship, something burrowed its way into her body. Into her mind.

When her commander decides the best cure for what he thinks is Tally’s trauma is to send her on the famous Veltos Trail, Tally goes without revealing what’s really behind her mental anguish. Anything to be seen as normal again, anything to ignore what she’s afraid is happening to her.

But Veltos isn’t the safe place it seems. The chosen military personnel lucky enough to be offered the chance to walk the Trail are supposed to be the only people on Veltos. But Ben Guthrie, a captain in Arkhoran Special Forces, knows they’re not. He and his team have been on Veltos for a month already, tracking suspicious enemy activity, and he’s gone undercover on the Trail in search of a satellite his superiors are sure has been shot down.

When Ben’s worst fears become reality, and they find themselves hunted by a cunning enemy through the thick forests of Veltos, Tally and Ben fight together to survive. And Tally has to decide if accepting the changes inside her will save them both, or be her doom.

TRAILBLAZER is part of the Verdant String series but can easily be read as a standalone novel. Other books in the series include Interference & Insurgency (Two Novellas of the Verdant String), and Breakaway and Breakeven.

Enjoy an Excerpt

It had occurred to her more than once that this ship was very much to her own proportions. That everything she’d found was built for hands like hers.

Could this be a lost Verdant String ship, from before the eight planets of the Verdant String had found each other? From those first centuries of space exploration?

Or even–her mind reeled at the implications–from another Verdant String planet, one they had yet to find?

Whatever it was, it was a major historical find.

She reached the halfway point across the walkway, and looked over the other side. It was more of the same, although there was also tanks that looked as if they’d once held liquid, now long dried up.

She shivered, her sense of isolation and insignificance seemed amplified in this massive space, and she moved a little faster as she headed for the other side of the walkway.

A door blocked her way. She stepped close to it, but it didn’t open automatically. She looked around for a button or handle, but there was nothing except a screen attached to one side.

She hesitated, then touched it, and it flickered on, an outline of a hand showing in pale gray.

A hand exactly the shape of her own.

Cautiously, she pressed her palm against it, and with a gasp that startled her, the door slid to one side.

She stepped into the room, and knew immediately it was the bridge, the center of the ship.

She lifted the light, but there was nothing in here, just chairs and machines.

There was one light, throbbing a dull red rather than glowing, and she walked up to it. She couldn’t understand the label written above it, but she accepted what she was going to do.

She pressed the button.

About the Author:

Michelle Diener writes historical fiction, fantasy and science fiction. Having worked in publishing and IT, she’s now very happy crafting new worlds and interesting characters and wondering which part of the world she can travel to next.

Michelle was born in London, grew up in South Africa and currently lives in Australia with her husband and children. When she’s not writing, or driving her kids from activity to activity, you can find her at her website, or online at Twitter and Facebook.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest

Buy the book at Amazon.

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Where Sleeping Lies Lie by M. Naidoo – Spotlight and Giveaway

March 27, 2019 By 5 Comments

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

“Two men… two worlds… one desperate promise…”

If Anna had only known how the simple push of a button would turn her life upside down, she would never have pressed ‘Play.’

Just 22 seconds into the recording she’s hit by the realization that, if the voice in the thick German accent is right, she has been living with an unthinkable lie for the past thirty years.

There is only one way to find out: Follow the instruction left by a dead person and head back to Germany, to a life Anna has next to no conscious memory of.

To her surprise, she finds an unexpected ally in Peter, an old childhood friend whose law degree and language skills prove to be more than useful. Besides, he has the most gorgeous blue eyes and the uncanny ability to push Anna’s buttons without the slightest effort. At every turn, their search for answers is littered with more lies and revelations.

Anna must ultimately decide whether even the noblest of ends, truly justify the means and whether some secrets should better stay buried.

“Mystery, history, and a twist at every turn. Brilliant characters and prolific storytelling… irresistible!”

Enjoy an Excerpt

Erich had a much different recollection of the conversation that followed Anna’s entrance into the garage two days ago. At that moment, he wasn’t sure what hurt him more, seeing his daughter so devastated by the phone call, questioning what she had always thought to be true, or knowing that this was only the start of a series of revelations that would turn both their lives upside down. One thing was for sure; their relationship would never be the same. Yes, they had lied to her back then, but she was only five years old for god’s sakes!…

A few minutes later he was watching Leni devour a double scoop of ‘Cookies and Cream’. Aside from the color of her hair, she looked so much like her mother, down to the dimples on her cheeks. The freckles, however, reminded him of his late wife. If Lisa could only see her granddaughter. If she could only be here now to help him get through the next few weeks. What the hell happened back then?

He knew he should have asked that question long ago. Instead, he had accepted that his wife did not want to talk about it and left it alone. Whatever she had discovered that day had changed the rest of their lives. “We’re leaving.” That was all she had said, with such cold determination that had left no room for negotiation. Less than two weeks later they had boarded a plane to LAX.

About the Author:M.Naidoo lives in Northern California with her husband, two daughters, and three dogs. Born and raised in Germany, she was able to draw on a wealth of memories and passed down stories for Where Sleeping Lies Lie.

When she is not in front of her computer, pounding out story lines and characters, she enjoys reading, movies, spending time with her family, and long walks on the beach – her proverbial ‘happy place’. M’s love for the shore line and ocean shine through in the vivid descriptions of the coast in her debut novel The Pelican.

“Juggling my life as a writer and a full-time ‘real’ job has its challenges. I don’t get to spend half as much time as I’d like doing what I love, and there are never enough hours in the day. Still, I feel extremely lucky to be following my passion, and I am enjoying every minute of it. Getting here has been one heck of a ride!”

Like and follow M. Naidoo on social media

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Lowcountry Incantations by C.J. Geisel – Spotlight and Giveaway

March 26, 2019 By 3 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. C.J. Geisel will be awarding a paperback copy of “Lowcountry Incantations” to a randomly drawn winner (U.S. Only) via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Quinn Riley has just had her life turned upside-down. Life is about to get worse…and weird.

After losing her job, Quinn Riley goes on the hunt for another boring, nine- to- five when a split- second decision to save a dog turns into a nightmare. The ghost of a stunning young woman in a blue dress starts to follow her, she is forced to move in with a stranger named Caleb, and events in her life have her questioning everything she thought she knew. With the help of Caleb, a new Psychologist turned friend, and a magical root doctor, she navigates the blessings and dangers of her new life.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Burn. It all needs to burn.

The thoughts raced through my mind over and over again, a record on loop. I’m shaking, match in my hand ready to strike. I picture Father and his evil smirk, reeking of beer and cigarettes, closing the door in my face as he prepares to defile Kailee. I hear her screams as if they were my own. Attempting to break the door down, the pain in my arm explodes, yet the locked entrance doesn’t budge. He must have wedged a chair under the door knob again. This wouldn’t be the last time. Mom comes to his defense, as always, declaring I’m full of it. She stands barefoot on the kitchen’s dirty linoleum floor, pregnant with another child that he would be sure to violate. I imagine her face, staring at me as if I were an abomination, making up lies about my own father to get attention. I was certain she could hear the screams echoing through the halls. How could she not care? The anger welling up inside of me seemed to grow exponentially, threatening to escape my throat and bellow into the wind. Her own flesh and blood was being beaten, assaulted by a monster while she stood in the kitchen, hands on her hips. She disgusts me.

About the Author:

CJ Geisel is the author of the paranormal crime thriller “Lowcountry” series. She lives in Florida with her boyfriend, family, and dogs. She is an animal advocate, especially for those who are misunderstood or disabled. She also loves baking, photography, and travelling.

Website ~ Twitter ~ Instagram ~ Facebook

Buy the ebook and paperback at Amazon.

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If I Had Never Heard of Me, Would I Read My Book? by John C. Waite – Guest Blog and Giveaway

March 22, 2019 By 2 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. John C. Waite will be awarding a $50 Gift Certificate to Nuts.com to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

If I’d never heard of me, would I read my book?

Even if I had never heard of me, I would start reading this book. Why? The cover.

It says the story is about dolphins. Dolphins have been special to me all of my life, starting when I was a kid and encountered one in the surf at Grand Isle, Louisiana.

I grew up in New Orleans, and our family occasionally drove the hundred miles through the swamps and marshes of south Louisiana to get to Grand Isle, a sizable chunk of sand stretching along the state’s southern coastline. It was home to a recreational fishing enclave, and numerous weekend camps. I always had a great time romping in the surf or fishing with my father and little brother.

But one day while at play in chest deep water a monstrous grey beast came hurtling by, almost knocking me off my feet. I yelled for my dad and he was there in a flash. Seeing the dolphin chasing mullet as few feet away, he surmised why I had summoned him. He poo-pooed my fears and told me about dolphin, noting that they were known to have helped drowning people survive.

Shortly after that, I came across a book, a piece of kid’s fiction called Children of the Sea. It’s a story about a Caribbean boy who is befriended by a dolphin that saves him from drowning. The book follows the boy and the dolphin through a number of adventures.

I had that in my mental back pocket when my best friend finagled me a job at the Gulfarium in Ft. Walton Beach Florida for the summer of my senior year in high school. He was diving in shows there. My job didn’t have the oomph that the divers’ jobs had, but it was a paying position. For my time there I lived in the Gulfarium, and after hours would often jump into the main tank and explore. I quickly became “friends” with a couple of the dolphin, feeling particularly close to them based on my previous experiences.

It wasn’t all good. One of the dolphins, a young and over-sexed male, died in an accident. He had been a particularly active little guy, and most of the female divers avoided him while in the tank because of his somewhat amorous advances. But his death was a tragedy that affected all of the diving cadre. We gave him a fitting funeral.

With those experiences in mind, drawing the dolphin who are part of The Tursiops Syndrome wasn’t difficult. Plus, there are reams of studies dealing with the species Tursiops Truncatus, the common bottlenose dolphin. And of course, there are the television programs that featured dolphin.

But, the common perceptions should be taken with a grain of salt. They are not “Flipper.”

Dolphins are quite intelligent, but that intelligence applies to their world, not ours. They should not be thought of like a buddy. They are big, strong animals with lots of teeth. Respect them for their intelligence, but don’t make them mad.

The dolphins in The Tursiops Syndrome become tools of an unscrupulous human being.

Don’t be that person.

###

How do you get a nuke into the heart of the city? Maybe a dolphin can help. From Author John Waite, the tale of a police detective who matches wits with a mad scientist and terrorists intent on destroying America. When detective Hickory Logan joins Park Ranger Kevin Whitehead investigating the mysterious death of a dolphin she finds herself sucked into a far deeper whirlpool. Can she and Kevin stop the tide of terror that threatens to kill thousands or will they be fodder for a nuclear fireball?

A newspaper review described Tursiops thus: “The writing is, well, wonderful. Waite has a gift for dialogue and story-telling, and his plot is adventurous and perfectly paced.”

Enjoy an Excerpt

Red Logan hunkered down next to the Humvee’s left front wheel. He folded his lanky frame in several places to assure that the vehicle shielded him from rifle fire emanating from the house a hundred feet away.

A furious fusillade had greeted A-Company, first battalion, 407th Special Forces when their vehicles pulled to a halt in front of what was a rather strange building for northern Afghanistan. In the early morning darkness it looked for all the world like a California ranch-style home.

But there was no BMW parked in the driveway.

The firefight lasted less than fifteen minutes. There was only an occasional round pinging off the slate-riddled soil and infrequent bursts of automatic fire keeping the soldiers from charging the structure. Red wondered why the squads weren’t using some of the heavier weapons. He knew the unit armament included shoulder-fired missiles and a Carl Gustav 84-mm recoilless rifle but so far, the big stuff had been silent.

The tip had placed Azam al-Zawahiri, Al-Qaeda’s chief organizer for nine-eleven, in the house.

Numerous such tips over the past two years had come to nothing. Most of them originated in minds overly-motivated to garner the twenty million American dollars offered for the capture of several of the world’s most wanted terrorists.

At least one Osama bin Laden look-alike had been found dead. And it took weeks before authorities identified the body. The man had been killed and left in a house to which an Afghan citizen directed U.S. forces. Not only did he not get the reward he sought, but his countrymen also jailed him for mutilating the corpse by cutting off its hands and feet.

Army intelligence, a title Red thought oxymoronic, had considered tonight’s tip more credible than most since it had come in anonymously. The tipster hadn’t mentioned the reward. So the Special Forces unit had headed out in the predawn darkness for a two-hour drive north from Kabul into the mountainous terrain.

“Red?”

The voice belonged to the figure squeezed into the wheel well behind him.

He could barely see Jessie’s sinewy shape, strangely gawky where the video camera and its now-dark lights rested on her right thigh.

“Yeah, what?” he whispered.

“Should I get some video?” Jessie asked, cocking her left hand back over her shoulder.

“Hell no. We’re reporters, not soldiers. CNN’s not paying us to get shot. Just keep your ass down. There’s nothing to shoot.”

Before he could finish his sentence, an amplified Afghan voice rang out from the vicinity of the lead Humvee, imploring the occupants of the house to surrender. The answer was a three-shot rifle volley, the rounds pinging off the hard-pack and whining away into the darkness.

“Now,” Jessie said, pushing past Red and swinging the camera onto her shoulder, leaning on the Hummer’s hood.

“No.” Red yelled, trying to pull her to the ground. But it was too late. The light on Jessie’s camera flared brilliantly then died in a crash of glass and the harsh double bark of a Kalashnikov. The rounds zinged away into the darkness, but Red heard in the report the crunch of bone.

“Jessie.” he screamed.

About the Author:

Thousands of author John C Waite’s words flew past Alpha Centauri years ago, heading for the center of the galaxy, perhaps sparking an arthropod’s grin in route. Waite, a degreed journalist and retired Merchant Mariner has numerous writing and broadcasting awards to his credit, and millions of words in print and broadcast media. Originally from New Orleans he has called Panhandle Florida his home for fifty years, but still retains a taste for things Creole and Cajun. A recreational and professional sailor, his travels have covered the Caribbean, the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, portions of south and Central America, Canada, Hawaii, Ireland, Britain, and Europe. John resides in Pensacola, Florida. He is a father to four and grandfather to four. His books are available on Amazon.

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Buy the book for only $0.99 during the tour at Amazon.

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Legend of Song de Light by Kaitlynzq – Spotlight and Giveaway

March 22, 2019 By 3 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding 2 $15 gift cards to her book boutique, 2 $10 gift cards to her book boutique, and 4 $4 gift cards to her book boutique to randomly drawn commenters (8 winners) via Rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.


The stories within Legend of Song de Light
connect, unfold, interweave many character’s stories needs, feelings, desires, dreams
their threads as two crescent moons connected under the firelights
that layer the chords, and form the lyrics

all of you entered my world as dawn’s awakening sky of soft palette my garnet heart melted in iridescence to bloom in sun’s rays glow in night’s depth as the stars echo the rhythm of my heart my insides sigh and expand in delight harmonious blend as our lives circle the melody

The audiobook is recorded in Kaitlynzq’s voice with a blend of music like a heart’s wave into downloadable mp3 files.

An audio book that is interwoven in the Lovecontu Song de Light Lovecontu series that includes

Ancient Script of Lovecontu audio poem
Legend of Song de Light audio book Legend of Song de Light audio play
Lovecontu Song de Light Lovecontu audio set

Listen to the synopsis: https://youtu.be/j2XiCz03N0Y

Read an Excerpt

“…I awoke to a sonic dream of rhapsody ensemble, hummingbird wings, and chimes that were the arrangement…”

“…Again and again I muted the caution sign, and proceeded with Kamille, but my mind got even more insistent as I thought of telling her…”

“…Those chrysanthemums burst a duet of color that are silk to the touch, and bring visions of a certain lady, but I haven’t returned to the garden since that day in May…”

About the Author:

My fictional stories are written from the inside view of a character’s interior heart-that beautiful, vulnerable, intimate space feelings, desires, needs, dreams a blend of delicate feather ripples of heart waves needs, feelings, dreams, desires quiet, gentle heart strings tender, continuous soft, vulnerable air mist circles, weaves to caress a sonic sea of heart’s breath

Woven into audio books that are recorded in my voice with a medley of music as a heart’s wave into downloadable mp3 files;

audio plays adapted from the audio books, and layered into pdf files like a heart’s song;

audio poems that are multiple poems designed to connect to form a story as a heart’s breath;

and audio sets that are sets of these interconnected stories with elements from each story that interweave in one another as heart’s wave, heart’s song, heart’s breath.

Website | Author’s Boutique | Blog | /Vlog |
Goodreads | Email | Contact Page
Buy the audiobook at the Author’s Boutique

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Finding the Right Words by Jean M. Grant – Guest Blog and Giveaway

March 20, 2019 By 18 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jean M. Grant 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.

Finding the Right Words

I had a fun time researching slang and vernacular for my New Zealander, Matiu, in Soul of the Storm. I watched YouTube videos, pored over various websites, and ran the manuscript by a few native New Zealanders for accuracy. How much is too much slang and Kiwi-isms? Not sure. My accuracy readers helped me with that. Just enough of a sprinkle to build the character’s voice and for the reader to wonder: what does that mean? Oh, that’s cool.

Some of my Kiwi favorites in this story:

Choice, sweet as, bugger/bloody (used sparingly), egg, mate, bro, all good, cuz, good as gold, cheers, straight-up, chocka, footy, knackered, nah yeah, jandals, gumboots, Godzone, tramping (no, it’s hiking; get your mind out of the gutter!), Aotearoa, hokey pokey, she’ll be right, plus a handful more…

And a few Maori sayings are sprinkled in, too:

Kia Ora (Hello, Good day), Ata mārie (Good morning), Po mārie (Peaceful night to you), plus a few more Maori words.

While I was at it, I helped my Massachusetts-born Charlotte and my local Vermonters along:

Creemees, brookies, townies, bubbler (bubblah), wicked, Cah (okay, I could not resist this one as I, too, live in Massachusetts though I wasn’t born here), flatlanders (non-Vermont city folk), plus more here and there.

I’m a chart-making writer, so when I develop any characters, regardless of historical or contemporary, I also leave a spot for their preferred slang, expletives, proper or vernacular phrases, and other little ‘isms that make them who they are. My characters also like filler words, but my editor had advised me to limit those little beasts. Even though people tend to use them in conversation in real life, they don’t translate as well on the page for a reader (words such as yeah/yup, mmphmm, och, err, gripes, eh, ugh, hmm, uhm, aye, oh, etc.). In my historical novels I also use Gaelic and Norse words. Just a sprinkle. Just enough.

So how much is enough? Who knows! Words and how we use them add another layer to character and story authenticity. I do enjoy a good dusting to my characters to bring their personalities, upbringing, culture, and lifestyle to life on the page. And I hope you enjoy reading them, too!

Charlotte MacGregor lost the thrill of conquering mountains five years ago when her sister disappeared on a hiking adventure without her. Still guilt-ridden, Charlotte heads for a vacation to rustic Vermont with a friend—where she’s surrounded by reminders of her devastating loss and plagued with unanswered questions.

Matiu Christiansen is an outdoors buff. He works multiple jobs to save for his dream of owning an outfitter in New Zealand. He’s never quite felt at home in the United States and he yearns for his Maori roots, but his attraction to Charlotte puts a kink in his plans to move home later this year.

Thrown together by coincidence, Charlotte and Matiu form a kindred bond through their shared love of the outdoors. Can Charlotte surmount her demons to assist Matiu on a rescue when a late-season snowstorm hits? And can Matiu help Charlotte heal from the pain of the past?

Enjoy an Excerpt

She went to feel her ring on her finger with her thumb…but the ring wasn’t there. That old habit would not die even years later.

A dog bark intruded. The man crossed to the back door. “Reka, sweet girl, take your nap. Only a few hours here and then home, okay?” He spoke to her like a father to a toddler. The dog barked again. “A swim and walk this morning weren’t enough for you?”

He approached the dog, petted it, and whispered affections.

Charlotte made a soundless “Aww” and kept perusing.

The man returned, nearer. Residual sweat traced his brow. He pointed to a selection of books in the middle. “These are the best. Depends on what you’re looking for. Honest reviews or glorified fantasies?”

“Honest reviews, always.”

He stroked a hand through his neck-length black hair, the longer top layer falling over his forehead. He squatted and withdrew a few books from the lower shelf. “You could go with the popular or famous names, sure, but I like these authors.” He handed her one.

A book on South America sat in her hands. She muttered, “Thanks. Don’t need that one.”

“Oh, already been there, eh? All good, all good.” He took it and shoved it back on the shelf. “Where do your dreams lie then?”

She swallowed. No, I wasn’t there in that way. I was supposed to have been there. Five years ago. Instead she said, “Well, Vermont for now.”

“You’re in luck. I’m from Willow Springs.”

About the Author: Jean’s background is in science and she draws from her interests in history, nature, and her family for inspiration. She writes historical and contemporary romances and women’s fiction. She also writes articles for family-oriented travel magazines. When she’s not writing or chasing children, she enjoys tending to her flower gardens, hiking, and doing just about anything in the outdoors.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | BookBub Author Page | Amazon Author Page

Buy the book at The Wild Rose Press.

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What Would I Tell a New Author? by Hawk MacKinney – Spotlight and Giveaway

March 19, 2019 By 23 Comments


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Hawk MacKinney 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.

What Would I Tell a New Author?

Seems like it was about the same time Moses was leaving Kemet-Egypt that this writer was ‘new’. We writers are solitary modified nerds. We change the world – we handle the spotlight as part of our marketing, but all said and done, we like our solitude; i.e., peace of mind. Without it the creative juices are sidelined and crippled.

MAIN STUFF

 Write it. Edit it and edit it again. There’s no such thing as being done, but there is a caveat – one can over-edit and change good to pitiful.

 Don’t say NO to the person in the mirror.

 When words and actions don’t match…don’t sign any contract with anyone like that. Don’t be professionally associated with them – the marketing-publishing world is small – everyone talks.

 Don’t publish excerpts of your unpublished works on the Internet. That’s public domain, and most publishers usually won’t consider it after your manuscript has been published in any form.

PITFALLS

 Don’t throw anything away, including any scribbles/ideas/deletions, AND keep your backups current.

 Trust editors you know. Those you trust, listen to them. That doesn’t mean do what they say…but consider it. I shy away from editing others’ works—their work comes from their structuring of tales and characters, etc. etc. I’ve no access to those juices. I like editing my own work – sometimes as much as 12-20 times with each title.

 Watch out for quickie critiques from those who just talk instead of actually sitting down and doing the work of writing.

 Use rejections as personal opportunities to learn – especially from editors/publishers you trust. They’re rare as oak trees on the moon. If it was easy, everyone would be doing it—quality has always been rare.

 Ignore putdowns about “Have you published?” It’s jealousy and ego trouble. Are you an author? If you’ve written something you’re an author!

 Have a marketing budget. You’ve done the work. You’ve edited it; made it shine. Crow about yourself BUT DO NOT put others down. If you achieve success as a writer, you have an obligation to help other new authors.

 In presentations and Q&A audience participation panels, I-I-I-I and me-me-me are ego sputter and self-serving parades. Answer questions from the audience when asked, but if you are fortunate enough to be invited to participate on a panel, don’t use it to simply talk about yourself. For example, I often get asked about where I’ve taught/faculties/multiple postdoctoral degrees/commission officer military services, Dead Gold being Book 4 in a Moccasin Hollow Mystery Series and how I did so-and-so which I am happy to answer but only if asked. As writers, it is not our talents and gifts that make us what we are BUT how we use them. Runaway ego-putdowns ain’t cuttin’ it.

 Love your work. Never quit writing. An author is a loner in a room full of paper – ain’t it fun!

The dazzling lure of Olympic gold fame is a spotlight glare hotter than any fifteen minutes of fame.

During plans for a cross-country ski vacation, Aspen Police Department Criminal Investigation Division Detective David “Spinner” Krespinak and SEAL-bud Craige Ingram are ensnared by glamour, upmarket glitz and bling, and greed in the deadly champagne powder world of a money-gets-you-anything high-country ski-mecca. Body parts start turning up in the most unlikely places. As the two friends start their investigation, A hornets nest of the local elite do not want the publicity. For good reason it seems, they may be part of the mystery of bodies and body parts piling up at the morgue.

The closer they get to the killer the more confused they become. Who is behind the murders and mutilation? The list of suspects grows as they close the net on the killer.

The tender underbelly of Aspen is not what it seems. It is a raw open sore that oozes blood, drugs, and murder.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Spinner staggered the clutch and gear-shift. Kept his foot off the brakes as his vehicle slewed in the razor-edged chunky refreeze of the deep off-road ruts until coming to a stop. Killed the motor, and set the hand brake. Gusts of wind sliced at a square jaw on his devil-may-care rugged face as he climbed out and turned up the collar on his sheepskin coat. Big thick champagne-powder snowflakes clung for a moment to dust his dark hair, and just as quick blew-gone in the capricious strong up-slope drafts. He ducked under the fluttering yellow plastic ribbon with its black letters: POLICE LINE—DO NOT CROSS.

The charred black remains of the older model sedan slumped in a sooted blotched circle surrounded by undulating pristine white and candlestick-caked trees. It spoke loud and clear to Spinner—the burn had continued for some time after the storm. Wheel rims, frame, heat-crazed windows were still smoldering from hood to trunk.

As he walked toward her, salt-and-pepper-haired Pitkin County Medical Examiner-Coroner Candelaria Lopez didn’t have to look up. She knew the cadence of Spinner’s footsteps. “Looks like we have us a bungled hurried torch job.”

About the Author: Hawk MacKinney served in the US Navy for over 20 years. While serving as a Navy Commander, he also had a career as a full-time faculty member at several major state medical facilities. He earned two postgraduate degrees with studies in languages and history. He has taught postgraduate courses in both the United States and Jerusalem, Israel.

In addition to professional articles and texts on chordate neuroembryology, Hawk has authored several works of fiction—historical love stories, science fiction and mystery-thrillers. His titles are not genre-centered, but plot-character driven. Moccasin Trace, a historical novel nominated for the prestigious Michael Shaara Award for Excellence in Civil War Fiction and the Writers Notes Book Award, details the family bloodlines of his serial protagonist in the Moccasin Hollow Mystery Series—murder and mayhem with a touch of romance. Hidden Chamber of Death, the first book in the mystery series, was followed by Book 2, Westobou Gold and his latest, Book 3, Curse of the Ancients. All have received national attention. The Bleikovat Event was Vol I in The Cairns of Sainctuarie Science Fiction Series followed by Vol II, The Missing Planets. Vol III, Inanna Phantom is in final galleys.

Website | Amazon Author Page | Barnes and Noble Author Page

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The Next to Last Mistake by Amalie Jahn – Spotlight and Giveaway

March 18, 2019 By 9 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Amalie Jahn 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.

Tess Goodwin’s life in rural Iowa is sheltered and uncomplicated. Although she chooses to spend most of her free time playing chess with her best friend Zander, the farm-boy from next door, her skills as a bovine midwife and tractor mechanic ensure that she fits in with the other kids at East Chester High. But when her veteran father reenlists in the Army, moving her family halfway across the country to North Carolina, Tess is forced out of her comfort zone into a world she knows nothing about.

Tess approaches the move as she would a new game of chess, plotting her course through the unfamiliar reality of her new life. While heeding Zander’s long-distance advice for making new friends and strategizing a means to endure her dad’s imminent deployment to the Middle East, she quickly discovers how ill-equipped she is to navigate the societal challenges she encounters and becomes convinced she’ll never fit in with the students at her new school.

When Leonetta Jackson is assigned as her mentor, she becomes Tess’s unexpected guide through the winding labyrinth of cultural disparities between them, sparking a tentative friendship and challenging Tess to confront her reluctant nature. As the pieces move across the board of her upended life, will Tess find the acceptance she so desperately desires?

Read an Excerpt

When I was nine-years-old, my dad was the one who dealt with illness and injury, bovine or otherwise. Knowing this, I didn’t question the concern in his voice the morning he hollered through the screen door for the rest of us to get dressed and meet him in the barn as quickly as we could. Groggy and still rubbing sleep from my eyes, I ran into the barn, following his voice to the partitioned stalls where cows are kept if they can’t stay with the rest of the herd for some reason. Mom and I were surprised to discover, on this particular occasion, one of the heifers had been separated because she was having difficulty delivering her calf on her own. And although I’d witnessed dozens of calves being born over the years, this was to be the first time I would assist in the delivery.

The pregnant cow, one of the herd’s youngest, was stomping her hooves and braying mournfully in distress.

“The calf is breech,” Dad explained as he stood by the heifer’s side, patting her neck as if she were the family dog. “I didn’t realize until this morning she’d gone into labor overnight, and now I’m afraid she’s been trying to give birth for too long.” His eyes were frantic, and I felt the weight of his accountability. “I tried correcting the calf’s position, but my hands are too big. I can’t get a good grip on the blasted thing.” He turned to me then, pleading. “I need you to try and turn the calf so the front feet come out first, or there’s a chance we’ll lose them both.”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking if I could or if I would. He was telling me to slide my tiny nine-year-old hands into the cow and turn the baby around.

I didn’t hesitate.

After several minutes trying to distinguish hind hooves from front hooves, I finally felt the smoothness of the calf’s snout and was able to begin correcting the presentation from breech to head-first. Slowly, laboriously, the calf twisted within its mother’s womb, and once I was convinced I’d done it properly, my dad instructed me to pull.

Moments later, I held the calf in my arms as Dad tried in vain to resuscitate it, covering its mucus-laden snout with his entire mouth while the heifer looked on. Sadly, the calf would not survive.

“Remember this, Tess,” my mom said, handing me a tissue to dry my eyes as we shuffled back to the house in the pale light of morning. “Let the pain be a reminder—you can’t get attached to these animals. They’re a commodity. Nothing more. Don’t waste your tears on the herd.”

But as I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t stop thinking of the mother cow. Of how woefully she’d watched as we’d carried her baby away. Her soulful eyes haunted me as I stared at the ceiling—I couldn’t let her spend the night alone. And so, after slipping on my coat and boots over my pajamas, I snuck out of the house, cringing as the screen door scraped against the jamb.

I found her back in the barn, lying on her side amongst a fresh pile of straw, no longer damp with birthing fluids. She lifted her head to greet me, and I recognized for the first time how her spot did sort of resemble Florida. I could see it now, if I turned my head to the side, even if it was a stretch.

I’d never been to Florida, but I’d heard it was a sunny place.

“I’m going to call you Sunshine,” I said as I spread a blanket on the ground behind her and propped myself against her back. “I’m sorry about your baby. But I promise to always be your friend.”

Standing with her now, I remember my pledge and feel the overwhelming urge to look away. Down the line are Greta, Flower, Minnie, Daisy, Maggie, Bella, Penelope, Annie, and Muffin. I smile to myself because despite my mother’s counsel, every cow on our farm has a name.

Names that will be lost forever the moment we move away.

About the Author:

Amalie Jahn is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than 8 young adult novels, including The Next To Last Mistake, her latest release (Light Messages Publishing 2019).

Amalie is the recipient of the Literary Classics Seal of Approval and the Readers’ Favorite Gold Medal for her debut novel, The Clay Lion. She is a contributing blogger with the Huffington Post and Southern Writers Magazine, as well as a TED speaker, human rights advocate, and active promoter of kindness. She lives in the United States with her husband, two children, and three overfed cats.

When she’s not at the computer coaxing characters into submission, you can find Amalie swimming laps, cycling, or running on the treadmill, probably training for her next triathlon. She hates pairing socks and loves avocados. She is also very happy time travel does not yet exist. Connect with her right here in the present day at these social media sites:


Website | Light Messages | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram
Visit Amalie’s website to join her FREE Readers Group and in addition to receiving promotional discounts, sneak peeks, and monthly newsletters, your membership will now grant you exclusive access to bonus material (shorts and novelettes) delivered right to your inbox!

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, or Kobo.

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A Fool’s Circle by Suzanne Seddon – Q&A and Giveaway

March 12, 2019 By 9 Comments


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Suzanne Seddon will be awarding a $10 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.

What is your take on critique groups?

I suppose everyone is entitled to their own opinions.

What is one of your writing quirks?

Getting too close to my characters. I see them and hear them!

What kind of writer are you?

A very truthful one! I don’t sugar-coat anything. I like to keep things raw.

What is your favorite genre?

My favorite genre has always been crime/fiction/thrillers

What is your day like?

Well, I have a teenage daughter who is Harry Potter mad! After I have listened to the latest conspiracy in the Potter world and she has gone to school… I’m a single parent. Loads of chores, etc. Then, in the afternoon, I sit down and start writing until my daughter comes home from school. I must have complete silence, otherwise I can’t write. It’s only once she has gone to bed in the evening, I can really get back in to my writing.

Kate Sanders has suffered many years of physical and mental abuse at the hands of her abusive husband Alan, and convinces herself that she is only holding the family together for the sake of her eight-year-old daughter. If it wasn’t for her best friend Jill Reynolds, she would have taken the suicide option a long time ago.

As she desperately seeks a way to escape, she is contacted by a solicitor. Kate’s old aunt has died and she has been left a small fortune.

For the first time, she sees the light at the end of the tunnel. She dreams of a fresh start, a new home, a new life. What Kate doesn’t know is that Jill and Alan have their own secrets, and are both desperate to get their hands on her money.

Kate soon finds herself falling for the charms of Jonathon Jacobs in what she believes to be fate finally intervening and offering her a second chance, unaware that each move he makes has been directed, orchestrated and well-rehearsed as he begs her to leave her husband Alan.

But is it all too late, as she finds herself in the frame for murder?

Enjoy an Excerpt

A blonde head bounced on the floor in time to the yelling. Rays of the early morning sun caught her golden hair, and motes of dust hung in the air. Sophie Saunders was eight years old. Kneeling down on the floor she played with her dolls, drumming Ken and Barbie against the carpet, her body bent forward, almost as if she were praying in her immaculately clean and pressed school uniform. But today her school uniform was the last thing on her mind. She bashed the dolls’ heads off the pink floor in unison.

‘Ring-a-Ring-a-Rosie,’ she sang aloud to herself as she tried to drown out the voices that rose up through the floorboards. The noises from downstairs were a regular occurrence, and fast becoming the norm. Sophie felt her dad’s anger, ever-present in his voice as it vibrated through her bedroom, positioned over the kitchen. Scared, she dropped her dolls, raising her arms and clasping her small hands over her ears. Sophie closed her eyes. Blinded, she felt for Barbie and Ken, gripped the toys by the legs. With one in each hand, she remained still for a moment, and as the voices intensified beneath her, she sensed them possessing the dolls.

‘You’re an old bag. I hate you!’ Sophie’s voice was deep and rough, as she rammed Ken’s head into Barbie’s chest.

‘Why are you always so nasty to me?’ She raised the pitch of her voice as she shook the dolls hard.

‘Because you make me want to vomit when I look at your fat ugly face,’ she growled.

‘Please stop being so cruel to me,’ she enunciated. ‘Who do you think you are? Don’t you dare tell me what to do, bitch!’ With each word, she struck Ken against Barbie, again and again, until finally Barbie’s head popped off and rolled across the carpet.

That hadn’t been her intention. She didn’t mean to decapitate the poor doll. Shocked, she stood up as she searched for the missing head. She found it under the bedside cabinet at the back by the wall. She crouched down, stretched out her arm and grabbed it. Sophie sat up on her knees, struggling to reattach the plastic head to its body.

‘Bloody shit! Why won’t it go on?’ The racket from below grew ever louder. ‘Bloody shit.’ Frustrated, she gave up, and flung the dolls across the room.

Downstairs, her father, Alan, almost lost his head. He shouted louder as his wife, Kate, persisted as the peacemaker.

‘As useless as a one-legged woman in an arse-kicking contest.’ His voice echoed around the large stark white room, drowning out the soothing music from the old radio sitting on the window ledge.

‘You’re one useless bastard!’ The barrage of abuse had just hit average level.

About the Author: Suzanne Seddon was born in 1968 in Islington, London. After leaving school she had many interesting jobs, from swimming teacher to air hostess, and was able to travel the globe. Now a single mum to her teenage daughter Poppy-willow, Suzanne spends her days writing and has written several articles for magazines and newspapers.

Growing up, Suzanne witnessed mental and physical abuse within her own family which strongly influenced her when she wrote her first play, A Fool’s Circle, when she attended the famous Anna Scher Theatre. Suzanne, however, was not content to leave it there and decided to go ahead and transform her play into a novel.

Not one to shy away from exciting challenges, she also wrote, acted, directed, cast and produced a trailer for the book around her hometown in Islington with the support of local businesses, who recognised the drive and importance of Suzanne and her work.

Suzanne is a passionate writer and she is determined to be heard so that the issue of domestic abuse is raised amongst the public’s consciousness, empowering others to speak out. She wants those who suffer at the hands of another to have their voices heard, loud and clear.

Publisher’s Author Page | Facebook | Twitter | InstaStalker | Twitter

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Research Is Important But Never Lose Sight of Creativity by Gareth Frank – Guest Blog and Giveaway

March 8, 2019 By 11 Comments


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

Research is important, but never lose sight of creativity.

“Write what you know.” It is a regularly repeated dictum that often collides with the necessity of creating something interesting and readable. I first try to find an interesting idea whether I am an expert in that field or not. After I have found a story, I can always research what I don’t know. It is only after my initial research that I mix in my own experiences.

That being said, never write a novel that is controlled by your research. You can easily get trapped in minutia. My first novel, was about the Vietnam war protests of the sixties and early seventies. I grew up in that period, so I already had a base of experience, but because I was writing a historical novel, I wanted to know what happened in the real world on every given day. I was driven to look deeper and deeper. To make matters worse I kept trying to make my characters part of all the amazing events of the time. It was a crucial mistake. I became just as concerned about the historical events as I was about my story.

In my latest novel, The Moment Between, I spent no less time on research, but I was much more cognizant about how to use the product in my book. I don’t know how others do it, but I start my research very broadly. I wanted to incorporate near-death experiences, afterlife, neuroscience and even physics in my budding novel. Even though I had read previous books on the subjects, I took the time to read six or eight books that I thought were most relevant, taking notes as I went, and trying to capture facts and ideas that were integral to the story I envisioned. As I began writing scenes, I referred back to this base research, but invariably items would arise that needed further exploration. For that research, the internet was crucial. I can’t imagine how much time I would have spent in the library in the good old days.

I would often get sidetracked on a sentence or a paragraph, researching for hours just to get the right facts and words. My favorite example is the research I did on brain surgery, especially the time I spent watching doctors on YouTube as they sliced into flesh and brain. The truth is I loved it. While that may seem like an extravagant use of time, if it fits in the story, it is never a waste, even if you don’t use it.

The only time research is a waste of time is if you misuse it. Always keep your eyes on the prize. Story comes first.

After four years of mourning, Doctor Hackett Metzger is determined to stop letting his wife’s death control his life. He is finally beginning to live again, but his recovery leads to an unexpected fight for his own survival and startling revelations about what happens to all of us in The Moment Between.

Hackett, a brilliant neurologist, is a skeptic. He doesn’t believe he will one day be reunited with Jean, or dwell with God in heaven. What he does believe is that he should have seen the warning signs of her heart attack; he should have saved her. He also cannot accept the possibility that his clinical study of near death experiences could prove the existence of a conscious afterlife. When Hackett falls for the mother of a patient, grief finally begins to fade. But he has no idea his new love is hiding her dangerous past. Will Hackett’s damaged spirit endure another heartbreak?

Enjoy an Excerpt

In those first months, he tortured himself with the notion that Jean’s voice had been real. He was sure that she had been present while he tried to save her. He prayed that she lived on in death, hoped that even as he failed, she had a soft landing on the other side. Her voice became his torture.

And so he understood death as he never had before. He understood grieving and pain. He understood what it meant to miss someone and to know that he would never see that person again. He understood loneliness. Most of all he understood the foolish and painful illusion that life might somehow continue. There was no voice. Jean had not talked to him from beyond. He had tortured himself from within. She was dead. He had learned to accept that cold hard reality. Anger had settled into the dark hole that was his memory of that day, poisoning his spirit. For weeks he stayed home from work, for months the blackness held him captive, until slowly he emerged into the world once more. His sanity hinged on his acceptance that Jean’s voice had been an illusion. Death was just death.

About the Author:Gareth Frank is a former union organizer and administrator. He received a Master’s Degree at the University of Wisconsin and later studied at the Writer’s Center in Bethesda, Maryland. The Moment Between is his first published novel. His short stories have been published in various journals and have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize as well as the Silver Pen Write Well Award.

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