gods on Trial by Opeshum Patroz – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Opeshum Patroz will be awarding a $50 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour bannr to see the other stops on the tour.

“Beyond the Father” sets the scene for the 8-book Sci-Fi Epic “gods on Trial: The Series,” delving into life’s determination to transcend all limitation. Set on the planet Xżyber, citizens of the Sub-Median Region, imperfectly reborn into metal, oppress those who are organic. Elsewhere, in the Central Kingdom, religion supports royalty’s brutal domination of the lowest class. War over scarce resources is coming, revolution within each region is brewing, and none know of the eccentric god who created them. This being watches, has fascinating conversations with his often-wiser companion, occasionally learns, and rarely intervenes. The many levels and threads of struggle distract nearly all from a far greater threat. Meanwhile, the young Prince Anglid’s vision quest into the unexplored Area X may ultimately change everything. However, just when you think you know the direction of the story, the author has yet another surprise.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Purvi’s face turned red as her anger mounted inside of her. The unfriendly exchange reminded her of the last time she spoke with Timmons, her grandfather. It was the day he had declined his chance to be uploaded to the Vangora Rima and achieve eternal presence.

It was a sullen afternoon, with the family and Timmons’ doctor. As they huddled around the bed where Timmons lay weak, his doctor implored him to reconsider his decision, given he was in the last few days of his life. However, Timmons refused to agree to the upload.

This was an opportunity his family could not fathom he would turn down, and an option only typically available to those who were at least 80% Mollard, or to those who had the means to invest in the technology.

However, Timmons, a brilliant Xżyberian—whose only misfortune was the constraints of poverty—had managed to write numerous social advisories intended to promote harmony between Mollards and Non-Mollards. He’d had hopes that his musings would provide him a source of regular income, but his published works were only well received by some. Highly criticized by most, he quickly won the label of an iconoclast and found himself forced into obscurity.

Yet still, his message captivated the Luminaries—the presiders over news and commentary—who deemed that Timmons’ writings could be useful in the management and wellbeing of the Non-Mollard community, and should be archived as a collection of noble artifacts.

With this came the rarest honor—the right to upload his consciousness to the Vangora Rima until a fully prosthetic body was constructed for him.

Purvi’s mother, who was the only surviving daughter of Timmons, sat by his bedside pleading with him to accept the offer. And Purvi, almost nineteen-years-old at the time, sat on the floor weeping.

“Dearest father, the Vangora Rima has never been within our family’s grasp before,” cried Purvi’s mother, Ariel. “We may never get there—any of us. So, why would you walk away from this now?”

Timmons struggled to speak. “Take my hand, Ariel,” he said through strained breathing. “Please remember what I taught you . . . what I taught all of you about desperation.” Timmons opened his eyes slightly. “It can and will cloud your view and disrupt your clearest thoughts.”

“But, Grandfather!” interjected Purvi. “We love you, and we want you to live forever!” Purvi placed her head down onto the bed, wiping her tears against Timmons’ frail arm.

“Ah, Purvi. My little Purvi,” he said, stroking her hair. “The Vangora Rima would not give you back the grandfather you know. The system would scrub me clean of what it deemed were my imperfections: my concern, and my empathy…my ability to love you.”

“I don’t care about how much it would change you, Grandfather,” Purvi cried. “I have enough love for the both of us.” Purvi looked up, her eyes filled with so much water she could barely see. “I am stronger than you think I am! I will love you even if you can’t love me back!”

“Shh . . . my darling, Purvi.” Timmons whispered. “Please gather yourself and listen to what I have to say.” Timmons removed a ring from his smallest finger and placed it in the palm of one of her hands. “One day, Purvi . . .” he whispered. “One day, when you are fully grown, you will look into the face of pure evil, and I am eternally grateful that that face will not be mine.”

That was the last time Purvi heard her grandfather speak.

About the Author:

Opëshum has been writing since she was a child, and believes that authors are selected by their characters to bring their stories to the world. Incredibly shy and introverted, Opëshum does not make public appearances. She prefers to remain behind the scenes as the characters in her books take center stage. Her current work, the 8-Book SciFi Epic gods on Trial: The Series™ kicks off with Book 1, BEYOND THE FATHER.

Opëshum calls Sheridan, Wyoming her home, where she is currently writing Book 2 of this series. She lives in a modest Cape Cod dwelling on 3 acres of land where she lets a robust variety of sunflowers grow wild and untamed, while Aloe Vera and other succulents decorate almost every ledge within her house. An avid writer in the early morning and late at night, Opëshum often works on her manuscripts in rooms lit only by homemade candles.

She enjoys nature walks, full moons, and open spaces where she can stare up at the stars.

“I live my life in the shadows, and I am shy. For I know that my appearance is not pleasing to the eye.” – Opëshum Patroz

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Divorce: Just a Detour to your Destination by Neco Beasley – Spotlight and Giveaway

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

So many men and women who have gone through divorce feel that life is over for them. It is time to change that narrative. This is a book of resilience and determination that demonstrates that it is absolutely possible to press on and have a happy and successful life and career following the challenges of a painful divorce.

This book accompanied by the workbook are an excellent starting point for any man or woman going through divorce that wish to push through the pain and go on to live a fulfilling and happy life.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Testing Season

I had a series of traumatic events occur in my life for four straight years in a row. I felt like my faith was being tested. During those times of hardship, I asked God if I was going through trials like Job in the Bible. I experienced several tragedies in my life from 2011 to 2014 … From 2011 through 2014, we walked around in a fog with the challenges we faced. Our scheduled departure for Atlanta was six months away. I was excited to begin the next chapter in my life.

About the Author:

Born in Fort Wayne, Indiana, a close-knit midwestern city. Ms. Beasley discovered her gift as a stylist at a young age. She would pack her bag of supplies and walk to her family’s home to style their hair. Neco has been a licensed Cosmetologist for twenty-nine years, and a licensed instructor for thirteen. Ms. Beasley founded Star Network, a program that empowers women to be the best version of themselves while experiencing the effects of a divorce. Neco Beasley believes women should not allow detours to stop them from reaching their destination.

 

Ms. Beasley is blessed with four children and nine grandchildren.

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The Doc’s Holiday Homecoming by Virginia McCullough – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Virginia McCullough will be awarding a $50 Etsy Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Could her closed heart…

Still have room for him?

Olivia Donoghue’s life has turned a corner. The radiologist’s eleven-year-old daughter is finally healthy, and she just moved to her best friend’s dreamy hometown of Adelaide Creek, Wyoming. If only her friend’s prodigal brother, Jeff Stanhope, wasn’t complicating matters. It’s clear Jeff’s kindness knows no bounds, having taken in his late roommate’s teenage son and also offering her a cabin to stay in, but Olivia’s heart is already full…and safe. Is the former rancher worth the risk?






Enjoy an Excerpt

Olivia nodded toward the window. “Jillian and I have seen Carson out back practicing at the hoop. If he makes the team, I promised Jillian we’ll go to the games when I’m free to take her.”

Jeff turned to face her. “If you’re working, and you’re all right with it, she can come with me. I plan to get to every single game.”

Same as an attentive dad. That thought popped up, and equally fast, Olivia resisted it. Jeff wasn’t Jillian’s dad. Carson wasn’t her brother. Olivia was presuming something she wasn’t sure she was ready for. “I wouldn’t want to impose. That’s taking on a lot.”

“Not really.” Jeff frowned. “Those two are growing up friends. They’re creating memories that include each other, right down to picking out Christmas trees.”

“Yes,” Olivia said, not adding the part about their appearing to be siblings. Some days, a life with Jeff was so possible, so real, it left her shaky with fear.

About the Author:


Virginia McCullough is thrilled to share her eighth Harlequin Heartwarming release with readers. The Doc’s Holiday Homecoming, available November 29th, is the second book in her Back to Adelaide Creek series. Like all of Virginia’s romances, this holiday story comes straight from the heart and features characters who could be your neighbors and friends struggling with everyday life issues.

Born and raised in Chicago, Virginia spent years as a ghostwriter, producing more than one hundred books for physicians, business owners, professional speakers and many others with information to share or a story to tell. She’s moved around a lot, and a few years ago she landed in Green Bay, Wisconsin, where she enjoys hanging out with other romance writers, walking on trails, and downing mugs of dark roast at local coffeehouses. Her other award-winning romance and women’s fiction titles include The Jacks of Her Heart, Amber Light, and The Chapels on the Hill. Virginia is always working on another story about hope, healing, and second chances.

My Favorite Scene in the Book by Victory Witherkeigh – Guest Blog and giveaway

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

My Favorite Scene in This Book…

She smoothed the wrinkles down on her black Hermès slacks and shirt before turning the crystal hotel door knob.

“You bring nothing good into this world,” her mother said, baring her teeth. “You just corrupt and destroy everything. You’re a catalyst, a demonic catalyst. You’re only fit to annihilate. One day you’ll understand the destructive nature of your power. You’ll see the damage you’ll bring to those around you when it’s too late. All those people who tell us you’re amazing, they’ll figure it out. You’ve fooled them for now, but they’ll learn.”

The mother slammed the door as she walked out with that last statement. The tears flowed from the girl’s face as she looked at the door. Her breathing sped up as her stomach roiled, sending her sprinting to the toilet. Her hands were shaking, clammy, as she collapsed to the floor, chills running through her body as she looked up at the ceiling. The orange and bergamot scents of the soaps mixed with the stark, white porcelain tile floor were the only anchors she could focus on to stop herself from throwing up again. Deep in her gut, at the core of her being, there was only one thought she could grasp: she’s right.

“I don’t want to be evil,” she said, whimpering to herself. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“But you aren’t alone, pretty girl,” a voice said with a throaty laugh.”

***

This scene is one of my favorite scenes in The Girl, not just because of where it is in the novel, but how it came about in my constructing it. The excerpt presented here is part of a longer chapter, but it was, in fact, the first chapter I ever wrote on day one of NaNoWriMo 2019. I don’t remember what I was doing when I started. I only knew that I sat down at the keyboard, and this image I had in my head spurred me on – this picture of a young Pacific Islander girl crying alone in a hotel bathroom after a fight with her family. She would be angst, caught up in her emotions of loneliness, fear, and vulnerability at never feeling good enough. And just what if someone or something actually answered her back?

I remember crying as a teenager many times, thinking I was alone in the world with my burdens and wishing for someone to rescue me. But, it was only as I got older that I realized how much the thought of a ‘hero’ arriving just in time could be terrifying. After all, how does anyone ever know if the person they’re meeting on the street is who they say they are? This passage stayed with me every day that passed NaNoWriMo, and by the end of the month, it was the section that gave me enough courage to show it to a friend who was already a self-published author.

“Wow,” he said, texting me less than an hour after receiving my email. “This is incredible? Where did this come from? What happens next?”

I can’t believe I finally get to reply after all these years, “You can actually find out on December 6, 2022 – when my debut novel, The Girl, is released.”

The parents knew it had been a mistake to have a girl. At birth, the girl’s long, elegant fingers wriggled and grasped forward, motioning to strangle the very air from her mother’s lungs. As she grew older, she grew more like her father, whose ancestors would dream of those soon to die. She walked and talked in her sleep, and her parents warded themselves, telling the girl that she was evil, unlovable, their burden to bear only until her eighteenth birthday released them.

The average person on the streets of Los Angeles would look at the girl and see a young woman with dark chocolate eyes, curly long hair, and tanned skin of her Filipina heritage. Her teachers praised her for her scholarly achievements and extracurricular activities, from academic decathlon to cheer.

The girl knew she was different, especially as she grew to accept that the other children’s parents didn’t despise them. Her parents whispered about their pact as odd and disturbing occurrences continued to happen around her. The girl thought being an evil demon should require the skies to bleed, the ground to tremble, an animal sacrifice to seal the bargain, or at least cause some general mayhem. Did other demons work so hard to find friends, do well on their homework, and protect their spoiled younger brother?

The demon was patient. It could afford to wait, to remind the girl when she was hurt that power was hers to take. She needed only embrace it. It could wait. The girl’s parents were doing much of its work already.

About the Author:Victory Witherkeigh is a female Filipino author originally from Los Angeles, CA, currently living in the Las Vegas area. Victory was a finalist for Wingless Dreamer’s 2020 Overcoming Fear Short Story award and a 2021 winner of the Two Sisters Writing and Publishing Short Story Contest.

She has print publications in the horror anthologies Supernatural Drabbles of Dread through Macabre Ladies Publishing, Bodies Full of Burning through Sliced Up Press, and In Filth It Shall Be Found through OutCast Press.

Her first novel, set to debut in Spring 2024 with Cinnabar Moth Publishing, has been a finalist for Killer Nashville’s 2020 Claymore Award, a 2020 Cinnamon Press Literature Award Honoree, and long-listed in the 2021 Voyage YA Book Pitch Contest.

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Lessons Learned During Self-Publishing by Lani Gonzalez – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Lani Gonzales 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.

Lessons Learned During Self-Publishing

Before I self-published my first book, Rebirth of a Sage, I did my best to learn about the process of self-publishing. I took a helpful online course that explained the editing and publication process. The course also sought to manage the expectations of new self-publishing authors. The teacher of the course explained that that average self-published book will sell approximately 250 copies within the course of 2 years. Another course explained that less than 1% of self-published books will be sold in a physical store.

My goal was not to make money, but I was still disappointed and discouraged. Rebirth of a Sage is a labor of love, and my goal was to share my story of healing with as many people as possible: to share a message of hope, to spread love and light to those still searching in the darkness. Determined to make a difference in the world, I set my goal: to sell 500 copies within 2 years. To my surprise, almost 1,000 copies of Rebirth of a Sage were sold within the first month and is now being sold in a local store. I am humbled and grateful to share my story with so many people. Through my experience self-publishing my first book, I learned a valuable lesson: there are no bounds to our infinite potential if we believe that we are limitless and we honor the beauty and power of our dreams.

A TRANSFORMATIONAL MEMOIR OF LOVE AND LIGHT.

In Lani Gonzales’ intimate self-help debut, Rebirth of a Sage, readers meet the woman she was when she discovered ayahuasca and commenced her journey toward spiritual rejuvenation. Panicked, fearful, and drained, she hoped for an escape for both her and the lonely little girl she’d buried inside. Guided by the Shamans and supported by friends she made along the way, her cleanse progressed one ceremony at a time, culminating in a state of pure spiritual refinement.

Through eleven soul-stirring chapters enriched with enlightenment and healing, readers experience a kaleidoscope of emotions as they journey with Lani. A heartwarming chronicle ensues, traversing the blissful highs and devastating lows she faced along her way to rebirth. Unburying her darkest demons, she inspires us to do the same, gradually weaving threads of transformation and encouraging us to reconnect and reignite the divine flame within our souls.

Enjoy an Excerpt

I will not carry the weight of your sin.
It is yours to carry, and not my own.
When my innocent eyes looked to you,
You took your life, and I slowly lost my own.
But that is your sin to carry, and your sin alone.

I will not carry the weight of your sin.
It is yours to carry, and not my own.
You taught me that life was worthless,
Something that easily comes and goes.
But that is your sin to carry, and your sin alone.

You trespassed on my innocence, the pureness of my soul.
But that is your sin to carry, and your sin alone.

I will not carry the weight of your sin.
It is yours to carry, and not my own.
You told me to be silent. You told me to be still.
But something inside me rotted; something inside me grew cold.
But that is your sin to carry, and your sin alone.

I will not carry the weight of your sin.
It is yours to carry, and not my own.
You violated my body, using it for the needs of your own.
But that is your sin to carry, and your sin alone.

I will not carry the weight of your sin.
It is yours to carry, and not my own.
The weight I’ve tried to shed.
The weight I’ve tried to purge.
Deceived into believing it should be shed from my body, the vessel for my soul.
But the weight that should be lost is that of your original sin, your sin, and yours alone.

I will not carry the weight of your sin.
It is not mine to carry.
It is yours and yours alone.

About the Author:Born in the Philippines, Lani Gonzales immigrated to Virginia, USA, with her family when she was only two years old. Determined to emulate her parents’ discipline and ambition, Lani worked through college and law school and is now a practicing partner in a successful law firm in Tampa, Florida. A world-traveling, volunteering, energy-healing, aspiring hypnotherapist, Lani is committed to using her light as a beacon to help others find theirs.

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gods on Trial by Opeshum Patroz – Spotlight and Giveaway

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

“Beyond the Father” sets the scene for the 8-book Sci-Fi Epic “gods on Trial: The Series,” delving into life’s determination to transcend all limitation. Set on the planet Xżyber, citizens of the Sub-Median Region, imperfectly reborn into metal, oppress those who are organic. Elsewhere, in the Central Kingdom, religion supports royalty’s brutal domination of the lowest class. War over scarce resources is coming, revolution within each region is brewing, and none know of the eccentric god who created them. This being watches, has fascinating conversations with his often-wiser companion, occasionally learns, and rarely intervenes. The many levels and threads of struggle distract nearly all from a far greater threat. Meanwhile, the young Prince Anglid’s vision quest into the unexplored Area X may ultimately change everything. However, just when you think you know the direction of the story, the author has yet another surprise.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“Fleet number, rank, and make?” asked the assignment officer at GATE 11, on the central floor of Team Command.

“44772PX, cadet, 40% Non-Mollard,” the next in line replied, quickly.

“Cleared. Report to HAS 4 in Field 8,” the assignment officer abruptly responded. “Next? I need Fleet number, rank, and make!”

“23619RX, cadet, 30% Non-Mollard,” replied the next in line.

“You’re cleared. Report to HAS 1, in Field 10,” said the assignment officer. “Next!”

“Thank you, yes! I’m next,” responded another cadet, rushing up to the window. Her rucksack slid off of her shoulder, where the stub of a missing arm stuck out just beyond the sleeve of her shirt. “Here are all of my papers,” the cadet said, spreading out a pile of disheveled notes.

“Hold it! I just need a fleet number, a rank and your make. I don’t need your life story,” snapped the officer.

“Of course. I’m 24005RX . . . sub-cadet, 100% Non-Mollard.”

The assignment officer studied the cadet disapprovingly. “100%—non-Mollard,” he repeated, carefully scanning the cadet’s face. “Didn’t know they still let your kind in. And who is your commanding officer?” he demanded.

“Umm . . . Officer Liara, sir. And my name is Purvi,” continued the sub-cadet.

The assignment officer pushed the papers back at Purvi and frowned. “I don’t need all these papers,” the officer scowled. “And I don’t need your name!”

“I see. Thank you, sir,” Purvi responded, retrieving her papers. But then she paused. “But, you’re a Non-Mollard too, aren’t you?” she pressed. “In which case . . . well, it’s just so hard connecting with anyone here. My whole fleet is mostly Mollard, and . . .”

“Why are you still talking?” the assignment officer interrupted, while entering something into his database. “You’re cleared for HAS 12 over in Field 3.”

Realizing her gestures were unwelcome, Purvi quickly repositioned her rucksack and turned to walk away. But then she turned back around and reapproached the window, consumed by what had become a theme in her life—the burning desire to challenge what she felt was wrong. “Why are you so full of hate when you are still part flesh yourself?” she challenged.

Shocked, the assignment officer slowly looked up to meet Purvi’s bold stare and revealed the circuitry behind his colorless, prosthetic eyes. “How dare you talk to me that way, you little ‘scunt!” he seemed to growl through clench teeth. “How dare you even open your mouth to speak to me without being asked a question? You remind me of everything that shouldn’t be. You’re an unfortunate arrangement of flesh and mineral—with a mouth!” Growing even more impatient, the assignment officer stood up quickly from his chair. “You are just a waste and a burden to us all. Your kind shouldn’t even be here,” he sneered, leaning forward to make his point. “Make no error in. I am part of the new Xżyber and you’re . . . you’re completely expendable.” His voice became deeper, as did his frown. “Now get out of my line!”

About the Author:Opëshum has been writing since she was a child, and believes that authors are selected by their characters to bring their stories to the world. Incredibly shy and introverted, Opëshum does not make public appearances. She prefers to remain behind the scenes as the characters in her books take center stage. Her current work, the 8-Book SciFi Epic gods on Trial: The Series™ kicks off with Book 1, BEYOND THE FATHER.

Opëshum calls Sheridan, Wyoming her home, where she is currently writing Book 2 of this series. She lives in a modest Cape Cod dwelling on 3 acres of land where she lets a robust variety of sunflowers grow wild and untamed, while Aloe Vera and other succulents decorate almost every ledge within her house. An avid writer in the early morning and late at night, Opëshum often works on her manuscripts in rooms lit only by homemade candles.

She enjoys nature walks, full moons, and open spaces where she can stare up at the stars.

“I live my life in the shadows, and I am shy. For I know that my appearance is not pleasing to the eye.” – Opëshum Patroz

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Last Chance Town by Ron Kearse – Spotlight and Giveaway

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

In this, the Further Adventures Along the Road Without End, we fast forward from where the story left off in 1983, to Vancouver, BC, in 1988. Warren Givens has completed his second jail sentence four years previous, after which he’s vowed to lay low and stay clean so there’s no return to “Clown-College,” as he calls it.

A chance meeting at a pub one night introduces us to Daryl Kellerman, at first as Givens’ one night stand, which quickly develops into a love and live-in relationship between them.

Warren’s distant past comes front-and-centre in the form of his birth mother, who lost him to Social Services before he was ten years old, and has been looking for him ever since.

We get to know Warren’s past and what’s made him the way he is.

This, along with some other drastic life changing occurrences, propel Warren into a life he never thought he would live.

Later, we get to know what life was like living with Givens through Daryl’s eyes as he reminisces over the years since their initial meeting.

Last Chance Town is the third book in the Road Without End Trilogy.

Enjoy an Exclusive Excerpt

We take a cab to where Hastings-Sunrise meets Grandview-Woodlands in East Vancouver. We get out of the cab and go up the front walk to his place. It’s an older house, two storeys, blue and grey. Looks like it could use a little TLC as far as repair work goes. We enter the front hall. There’s music coming from the kitchen.

“Ah, the roomie’s home,” he says pointing at the pair of runners in the front closet. “You want something to drink?”

“Sure.”

We take off our shoes.

“This way,” he says as he leads me into the kitchen. Somewhere Tom Jones is singing “Kiss” as part of the Art of Noise cover.

We pass a large, framed poster on the wall in the hallway. I stop to have look at it. It’s square and features a red background with a black bull within a circle of words that read, Transcend the Bullshit. Makes me chuckle.

In the kitchen, we’re greeted by a guy in his underwear doing what looks like ballet moves. Daryl glances at him. “You’re drinking red wine again?”

“When have I stopped?” His roommate answers as he twirls across the kitchen floor.

“Givens, this is Hunter,” Daryl says pointing at him.

“Good to meet you.” I wave as he twirls out of the kitchen into the dining room, and that’s when we hear ka-THUNK!

Daryl sprints into the dining room with me right behind him.

“You okay?” Daryl asks.

Hunter gets up from the floor, laughs then shakes my hand. “Good to meet you too.” Then he twirls around and out of the room then bolts upstairs.

“Christ,” I say, “I want some of whatever Hunter’s been smokin’.”

“Yeah,” says Daryl with a wry smile, “you’ve entered another universe. But don’t worry about it, you’ll fit in just fine.”

About the Author: Ron Kearse had a nomadic upbringing and finds inspiration in traveling, art, friends, reading, and photography. He’s written reviews and features for local periodicals, co-hosted radio programs, conducted interviews on-air and in print, and has a colourful and varied resumé. He’s hosted art exhibitions of his works and has had his photographs displayed in public showings. He presently lives in Victoria, BC, with his partner, James.

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Lessons I Learned from my Hero by Lou Kemp – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Lou Kemp will be awarding $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.

Lessons I Learned from my Hero

When I began the Celwyn series in 2018, I superficially knew details about the immortal peyote-chewing magician Jonas Celwyn and the other characters. The journey since then has been educating both for me, and for Celwyn.

The Violins Played before Junstan was initially written as a 15-page story for the Mystery Writers of America anthology Odd Partners. When it was finished, I realized there was so much I could do with it. I had already two strong characters who were just beginning to mesh as dual protagonists, a mechanical bird with an attitude, a villain who had died about page 14, and a premise that opened up a world of possibilities. When I began turning it into a novel, it only took about another five pages to know it was time to back up and add in a few things.

In a short story, the action is high and timelines tight, and details had to be minimal to meet the 3000-word limit. For the novel, I began layering in the details, which also provided color and the opportunities for the plotting. Since I’m a pantster, aka writing by the seat of my pants without a plot, this stage was relatively easy: I did not have to change anything major, just go with it.

I also learned early on that I as I wrote, I naturally planted clues and set-ups for the other characterizations and the other plots for the books in the series. Not only those things were important; I also had to keep track of all of those red herrings, real herrings, and fancy herrings. I didn’t need a story board yet, or was too stubborn to use one. There is probably a lesson here.

As I wrote, I fell in love with my characters, so much so, I protected them from being injured or … drumroll … killed off. You can imagine the flak from editors and friends. The darlings/enemies you love must be in danger: lesson learned. In book 6 one of them is killed. I will miss this character.

It is probably obvious to many readers, and most authors, that a protagonist is usually an extension of the author’s ego, or soul in some cases. I learned a few good and bad things about my personality, aka Celwyn’s personality. He has changed during the making of the first 6 books and four years, and for the better overall. An example:

Celwyn realized this: At the end of book 3, Professor Kang and Celwyn get into a fight about a dangerous task that must be undertaken. Kang tells the magician that he won’t back his plan because Celwyn “can’t kill a woman unless she is directly endangering” him, and that he only would do so if someone he cared about were threatened. Celwyn argues that he’d killed dozens that morning. None were women. The plot goes on.

There will be many more lessons learned. Bartholomew’s superstitious reactions to Celwyn’s magic have evolved as he grows stronger as a character. He is less afraid. I really want to turn him into a vampire if he is ever mortally wounded (probably in book 8).

While on a mission to avenge the death of his lover, the immortal peyote-eating magician Celwyn is hired to deliver an automat, Professor Kang, to a priest. But Celwyn quickly learns that everything the priest told him was a lie. Now his ship, the Zelda, is stuck in a horrific storm and Celwyn knows he must reconsider his allegiance if he is to steer his vessel in the right direction and continue his quest.

Enjoy an Excerpt

San Francisco, 1865

Late in the evening, thick ribbons of fog moved like a living animal, breathing, then thinning to vapor before revealing the shadows between the wooden barrels that lined the docks. Beyond the Opera House’s silhouette, oily glimmers of the bay cut through the darkness, only to be obscured by the fog again.

As Celwyn neared the docks, he heard virulent cursing above the commotion from a carriage as it charged down the cobblestones toward him. When the coach drew level, the driver raised a whip above his horse. On its descent to the horse’s back, the tip suspended mid-air and snake-like, the whip shimmied out of the coachman’s hand.

The man steered the hackney to a stop. As he slithered out of the high cab, the whip followed him, wrapping around his ankles, lifting him feetfirst into the air. His cursing echoed to screams as he disappeared into the night sky. A moment later, a splash could be heard, and a satisfied smile crossed Celwyn’s lips; he couldn’t stand to see anyone mistreating an animal. The horse trotted down the street, rather jauntily, back toward the stable yard as the magician stepped around a snoring drunk and into Salty’s tattered and dingy atmosphere. Celwyn could have sworn it was the same drunk he stepped over last night.

About the Author:Early work was horror and suspense, later work morphed into a combination of magical realism, mystery and adventure painted with a horrific element as needed.

I’m one of those writers who doesn’t plan ahead, no outlines, no clue, and I sometimes write myself into a corner. Atmospheric music in the background helps. Black by Pearl Jam especially.

More information is available at LouKemp.com. I’d love to hear from you and what you think of Celwyn, Bartholomew, and Professor Xiau Kang.

Milestones:

2009 The anthology story Sherlock’s Opera appeared in Seattle Noir, edited by Curt Colbert, Akashic Books. Available through Amazon or Barnes and Noble online. Booklist published a favorable review of my contribution to the anthology.

2010 My story, In Memory of the Sibylline, was accepted into the best-selling MWA anthology Crimes by Moonlight, edited by Charlaine Harris. The immortal magician Celwyn makes his first appearance in print.

2018 The story, The Violins Played before Junstan is published in the MWA anthology Odd Partners, edited by Anne Perry. The Celwyn series begins.

Book 1, The Violins Played before Junstan reissue with the publisher, the 4 Horsemen on 10-17-22. The 4 Horsemen will publish the remaining books in the series beginning with Music Shall Untune the Sky, The Raven and the Pig, The Pirate Danced and the Automat Died. The companion book, Farm Hall continues the story of Pelaez, another immortal magician and Celwyn’s brother will also be available.

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The Adventures of a Southern (Baptist) Buddhist by Pamela McConnell – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Pamela McConnell 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.

This true story is about a girl who is born up north; into a conservative, fundamentalist/evangelical family—but then becomes a Liberal Buddhist.

Her family moves back to their roots in the Appalachian south, where Pam is molested by her grandfather. She later owns her sexuality by becoming promiscuous; beginning a pattern of serial dating, marrying, and divorcing.

She is first married at 18 to another 18-year-old, who gives her a beautiful son—but he is a redneck and they have nothing else in common. Her second husband is a talented musician but turns out to like sex with men. Her third husband speaks five languages and is a Pakistani, but he beats her up. Her fourth husband is a chef who makes delicious meals but turns out to be a felon and a crackhead. Finally, the love of her life neglects to tell Pam for seven years that he is married.

In the meantime, Pam completes two degrees and works as a counselor, and then 20 years as a hospice social worker. She begins her hospice career in Southern California, where she has moved to get away from the DEEP South. That is where she converts to Buddhism. From that point, she begins to look inward for the answers to her questions about life’s meaning.

Pam leaves the country after two failed relationships, some years apart. She spends a year teaching English in South Korea and goes from there to Pakistan with her third husband. In between, her dad dies and Pam reconnects and bonds with her mom, backpacking on the Appalachian Trail. When she leaves the love of her life, she goes on Pilgrimage to India and Nepal. The meaning of her life is coming into focus.

At the end of the book, Pam goes on a trek in the Himalayas, on the Annapurna Circuit. Just over the three-mile high pass is a magical Pure Land in Muktinath, with a Buddhist temple that is dedicated to the female Buddha Vajrayogini. With a new perspective, Pam has the realization that her Enlightenment is ensured; she WILL become a Buddha someday.

Enjoy an Excerpt

I was born on a Sunday and attended my first (of many) church services that Wednesday. My first memory was gazing up at a bright globe of light, mesmerized. It was a church light and I was a babe in mom’s arms.

At the end of many sermons, our beloved pastor would give an altar call. Many would go down to the altar (a bench that one knelt before and prayed). I remember it sounded like a loud beehive: the sounds of many praying out loud; crying, shouting and whispering all over the church.

I would look around, noting the distress and fervor on the parishioner’s faces. At that point, no one was paying any attention to us kids. It seemed endless. Toward the end, someone might ‘feel the spirit’ and start jumping around or even running up and down the aisles, shouting joyfully:

“Hallelujah!”

“Thank you, Jesus!”

After that, folks would be called to stand up and testify about what God had done for them. The standard testimony for us kids was:

“I love Jesus with all my heart and I want to go all the way with him.”

We were ‘saved’ after confessing our sins and letting Jesus into our hearts as our Savior.

There was another, higher level, called being ‘sanctified.’ That was when the Holy Spirit entered you. I was saved at about five years old; sanctified at about nine. I felt full of the love of Jesus and began reading The Bible and praying.

About the Author:

Pamela McConnell, MSW, LCSW was raised in a fundamentalist/ evangelical Christian church and family. At age 34 she converted formally to Buddhism. She has recently completed a Pilgrimage in India and Nepal. Earlier, she spent two years in Asia: a year teaching English in S. Korea and a year in Pakistan with her 3rd husband. She worked as a counselor after earning a B.S. in Psychology. She worked as a hospice social worker for the last 20 years of her career after earning an MSW degree and becoming licensed as an LCSW. She is an avid backpacker and trekker, having done 500 miles on the Appalachian Trail and more than half of the Annapurna Circuit in the Himalayas.

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

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

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

Enjoy an Excerpt

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

About the Author:

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

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