Thursday, April 18, 2019

[book blitz] Baseball & Broadway by C.L. King & Katrina Marie


Baseball & Broadway
C.L. King & Katrina Marie
Publication date: October 22nd 2018
Genres: Adult, New Adult, Romance, Sports
A broken heart is never an easy one to mend.
Alice spent years forming a new identity while chasing her dreams. A fresh start was just what she needed. When she scores the leading role in a Broadway hit, a new world of possibilities opens up, including singing the National Anthem at the very game her ex was playing.
The biggest mistake of Easton’s life was ending things with Alice before they left for college. No woman has gotten close to him since. Instead, his primary focus is on his baseball career. While warming up before a game, a voice comes over the speakers as the Anthem is sung. A voice that causes something deep to stir inside of him.
Is it possible to rekindle a romance after so much damage was done? This game is bigger than any Easton has ever played. Two hearts are on the line. Either he’ll strike out or slide into home for the win. There’s only one way to find out.
EXCERPT:
I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend the evening before I depart for college. There’s a twinge of bittersweetness coating the air surrounding our table. It’s the last time I’ll see my high-school sweetheart, Easton, until Thanksgiving break. The last time he’ll hold my hand in his, the way he’s doing it now, for a long while.
I’m not sure how well our long distance relationship will work, but we’ll do what we have to. We’ve been together for so many years, I don’t know what we would do if we weren’t one unit.
We’re at our favorite Italian restaurant, Ramona’s. The flickering candles on the table, our water in wine glasses giving us a look of sophistication, and the Dean Martin crooning from the speakers, keeps our last outing romantic. It’s exactly like I pictured it, down to a T.
It’s crowded in here, which is expected for a Friday night. I don’t hear the other patrons, though. My entire focus is on Easton, as I try to cement his looks in my mind to last me for a while. I’m going to miss his bright green eyes laughing at me when I do something ridiculous. The way his lips pull up into a smirk when I bust out in song and dance regardless of where we are. I won’t be able to cheer for him from the stands as he rounds third base and heads for home.
Just like that, my mood starts to dim. I try to keep my smile firmly in place, but I’m beginning to think I should have chosen a performing arts school closer to him. Even if they are subpar to the elite school I spent my whole life hoping to get into, and actually got the acceptance letter to attend a few months ago.
Easton brushes his fingertips across my palm, bringing me back to the present. He always seems to know when I start to get sad, it’s comforting. I know that I shouldn’t dwell on the future. Everything will work itself out. I glance down at our hands, feeling the butterflies come to life, as they always do. That’s how I know we’ll be okay. Even after the years we’ve been together he still manages to give me warm fuzzies. I always feel that new relationship giddiness.
When I glance up at him, he’s smiling, but it feels forced. His lips aren’t quite as upturned as they usually would be. My stomach fills with dread. Whatever he’s about to tell me isn’t good, and I’m pretty sure this boy I’ve loved for most of my teen years is about to break my heart. I just hope I’m strong enough to pick up the pieces afterward.



Author Bio:
Katrina Marie lives in the Dallas area with her husband, two children, and fur baby. She is a lover of all things geeky and Gryffindor for life. Welcome to Your Life is her debut novel and she hopes you enjoy reading it as much as she enjoyed writing it.
--
When CL King isn't hard at work writing you can usually catch her reading, baking cookies, dancing to music, or just simply being crazy. She has a huge passion for baseball and the theatre. But her true nerd side comes out when she is doing math for fun. She has an old soul which is evident with her love of the 70s show Emergency. If you want to get on her good side bring her an Ocean Water from Sonic. Even though she tries to focus on one project at a time she always seems to be working on multiple projects at once, it's a good thing that she is highly organized. Just don't take her to a bookstore, you do that and you are likely able to spend hours browsing.

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[book blitz] What Matters More by Liora Blake


What Matters More
Liora Blake
Publication date: April 9th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
A sexy contemporary romance about what happens when a casual one-night stand becomes anything but casual.
JT Maxwell has it all . . . well, almost. He’s a US Marshal, he looks like he belongs in an aftershave commercial, and he has tattoos—lots of tattoos. Unfortunately, he’s also in debt up to his pretty blue eyeballs. Between that and his recent divorce, his personal life is nonexistent these days. But when a free-spirited artist approaches him for a no-strings-attached one-night stand, things suddenly start looking up.
Anya Alves’s life is a mess. She’s lost her job, caught her boyfriend cheating on her, and if it weren’t for the house-sitting gig she just landed, she’d be homeless. On top of all that, her creative muse has up and disappeared. If she doesn’t get it back, her burgeoning career as an artist will be over before it starts. But after indulging in a steamy hook-up with a guy who makes it easy to forget her troubles, she gets her mojo back.
The last thing she expects when starting her house-sitting job, is to see her sexy one-night stand again . . . living right across the street.
EXCERPT:
Anya managed a nervous smile and thrust her arms forward, with the baking pan perched in her hands like an offering—one she suddenly wasn’t sure would be welcome.
“We made enchiladas for dinner,” she blurted out. “And we saved some for you. Tara said you can send her a thank-you note tomorrow. I kept them warm, and I have salad and some beer, too. Are you hungry?”
JT’s gaze zeroed in on the pan in her hands and he simply stared at it, not saying a word, even when Anya cleared her throat to ease the uncomfortable silence. She felt a blush creeping across her cheeks, and a panicked thought hit her. One that if she hadn’t lost her mind earlier, she would have been able to see coming before she found herself with these damn oven mitts on her hands.
Maybe this was a mistake.
She could see how this must look, this show of domesticity on her part that he certainly hadn’t asked for or even insinuated that he wanted. But here she was, making him dinner and keeping it warm until he arrived home, like she was some proper Kennedy-era housewife—which, on so many levels, she definitely wasn’t. Even the outfit she’d changed into, a lavender floral mini dress, made it look like all she was missing was a cute little vintage apron to complete the look.
Oh, God.
Of course this was a mistake.
Anya considered setting the pan on the ground and walking away without saying another word. But then JT locked his eyes with hers. A hungry, heated look was on his face, and because she was regretting this whole thing now, she wasn’t sure whether that look was for her or the enchiladas. Either way, she needed him to say something soon because she was about to drop this hot pan and swoon, although not necessarily in that order.
“I’m starving,” JT rumbled. Then he made his way toward the door into the house, opened it, and invited Anya in with just the tip of his chin. She scooted past him in the doorway and swore that when she did, he actually grunted quietly as she passed.
Even then, she still wasn’t sure what he wanted to eat first.



Author Bio:
Wife of one. Mom of three plus a Beagle.

Liora Blake is a contemporary romance author living in Colorado.
When she isn't writing, she's likely baking cookies she shouldn't eat, inventing elaborate excuses to avoid going for a run, or asking the nice barista to sell her another quad-shot Americano.

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Wednesday, April 17, 2019

[book blitz] Duncan by Dennis McCort



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Thriller
Date Published: February 2019
Publisher: Gatekeeper Press

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A cunning pederastic serial killer nicknamed “Santa” is making his way up the East Coast from New Orleans to Boston, leaving a trail of young bodies in his wake. Santa covers his tracks along the way by working as an itinerant bass player in a series of jazz combos. At the same time, the Driscoll family – Mark, Julie and their nine-year-old son Nate – who live in an upstate suburb of Syracuse, New York, struggle to come to grips with Mom’s quadriplegia following a horrific auto accident. The suspense builds to a fever pitch as these two plot strands approach each other for the inevitable confrontation. All this tension is heightened by the mystery of Duncan, Nate’s stuffed-toy gorilla, who is not only the boy’s beloved companion but becomes a kind of family totem, and, later on in the story, so much more.

This is a novel not only for readers addicted to thrill rides and maddening suspense, but also those who are curious about the abnormal psychology of the pedophiliac killer. The book gives food for thought as well as a kind of perverse satisfaction for the imagination and senses. It is a thinking reader’s thriller.



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Excerpt

It was the best cut at the ball little Joey Simmons had ever taken, but he fouled it back over the chain-link fence. As catcher, Zach Moss had the job of retrieving it. He slipped down through the hollowed-out area under the fence, looked both ways before crossing the empty street lined with warehouses and loading docks, and darted across to where the ball lay nestled against the curb—just a few feet in front of the charcoal van. It was Sunday afternoon and the area was deserted. As Zach reached down, out of the corner of his eye he spotted the tall man in the black polo shirt leaning casually against the van’s open sliding door, kicking a crushed paper cup to the curb.

                “Whatcha got there, pal?”

                “A baseball,” Zach answered shyly, noticing the van was empty.

                “Wow, that looks like a Phillies ball. I’ll bet you caught it off the bat of Ryan Howard or some big slugger like that, huh? Could I have a look?”

                Zach hesitated, torn between advancing and retreating, politeness and caution. That hesitation sealed the boy’s doom. The man made as if to reach for the ball, but grabbed the little wrist holding it instead. It was a deft move, a practiced move, and lightning fast, carried out with the larcenous dexterity of a seasoned pickpocket. The boy was so stunned that he forgot to scream.

                The sliding door slammed shut and the man was behind the wheel pressing the accelerator before the boys on the ball field knew what was happening. He had kept himself on the sidewalk side of the van during the entire abduction, carefully hidden from their view. Zach knew he’d done something very wrong, even though he hadn’t meant to. All those endlessly repeated parental warnings raced across his mind, all the “Don’t ever listen’s” and “Always avoid’s” and “Run screaming from’s.” Could he have another chance? Please! He’d do it right this time. He splayed his fingers against the window, crying out—too late—to his friends as the van pulled away. He hadn’t noticed that its windows were dark-tinted, transparent only from the inside.

                Passing through the industrial outskirts of the city, the van headed up Old York Road into the northern suburbs. It neither sped nor lagged and it obeyed all traffic laws. The man at the wheel enjoyed a supreme confidence in his trapping skills. It was a craft, an art even, and he had mastered it. Soon there was more wilderness than houses, until at some point the van turned left off the main road onto a poorly marked crossroad that, in short order, forked at a dirt road. The van took the dirt road across a tiny rustic bridge spanning a creek, continuing then across a cleared, open field on the right, at the end of which stood a modest white colonial house atop a gently sloping lawn. Potted plants overhung the small porch with its two rockers diagonally facing each other on either side of the front door. The place stood in the open, yet was well hidden by hilly wilderness beyond property boundaries. The dirt road saw little traffic.

                The van pulled off the road and circled around to the rear of the house, stopping next to the angled steel cellar doors. The man got out, looked around and inhaled deeply, basking in the mellow sunlight of late afternoon. He was alone, the only sound that of the gently rustling trees. He slid open the van’s side door and leaned in, hands braced against the roof, ogling his prey with satisfaction. And lust.

                Terror widened the boy’s eyes, making them—and him—all the more alluring to his captor. He cowered, pressed against the corner of his seat, his body balled up in futile self-protection.

                “What do you want, mister? Why am I here?” he asked tentatively, knowing full well the man knew he knew why he was there.

                “All in good time, Zach, all in good time,” the man chuckled. He’d heard the other kids call the boy by name weeks ago when he first began scouting him. He always made sure, if at all possible, to get a kid’s name before taking him. The process went much smoother that way. Strategic use of a boy’s name soothed the boy with the delusion that, despite appearances, his captor was well disposed towards him. A tactic that would make an adult instantly wary tended to pacify an eight-year-old. He’d learned that the hard way many years ago from the debacle in Austin when the words, “Whaddaya say, kid, let’s hang out,” triggered a shrieking that forced him to start, rather than end, the process with lethal violence. After that, from Atlanta through Nashville and Blacksburg and on up the east coast—it was his first “tour”—he made sure to get the name up front and learned to soften his diction. It was part of his evolution from a seat-of-the-pants amateur predator to a serial pedophile of deadly proficiency.   

                “Why don’t you climb out of there and come in for a cold drink, Zach? You must be thirsty. Catchers eat a lot of dust. They need to rehydrate all the time.”

                “No! I don’t want to! I wanna go home!”

                “I’d like you to think you are home—for now.”

                “No, I’m not!” the boy cried with mounting panic. He began to whimper.

                “Come on now,” the man said, mildly irritated. He extended his powerful right arm inside, like reaching for a prize in a grab bag, and gently but firmly pulled Zach out of the van. Then, bending over slightly while holding onto the boy, he pulled open the already unlocked cellar doors with his free arm.

                Instinctively, Zach began to buck. He tried to pull away and squirmed furiously—to no avail. He had never felt such physical strength before. It was like trying to jerk a piece of wood loose from the vice in his father’s basement tool shop. Even when, not so long ago, his father would playfully toss him up in the air and catch him coming down like a medicine ball, it was nothing like the sheer physical resistance, the total control by another, he was feeling now.

                The man carried the boy down the steps, bracing him on his hip like a surfboard. They entered a finished basement, though one that had the same dank, musty air all basements have, with or without dehumidifiers. The smell of the air caused a new spike in the boy’s panic, suggesting as it did the mold of the grave. Even at eight Zach was aware of the connotations of mold. The man cuffed him, as if scolding a pet, and got off on it. It was all part of the one-way foreplay.

                The man carried him to the far end of the dark basement, which was largely uncluttered by the usual piles of stored junk, as if the house hadn’t been occupied long enough to accumulate much to store. There, well behind the furnace and hot-water heater, was a small, inconspicuous room, walled off from the rest, no doubt originally intended as a study or office. But the man had converted it to a kind of private pleasure cave. Richly paneled and lushly carpeted, hung with lurid pornographic images, both paintings and photographs, of naked children, many interacting with “erect” naked men, the windowless room was the sick expression of what had become the man’s sole reason for being. He had left the door unlocked and ajar for quick and easy sequestering of his latest prey. Lowering the boy onto the quilt-covered king-size bed that occupied more than half the room’s space, he raised an index finger to his smiling lips to shush the signs of panic contorting the boy’s face and body language. Then he leaned forward and switched on the portable CD-player on the nightstand. The soft strains of “So What” filled the room, the opening track of Miles Davis’s cool-jazz masterpiece, Kind of Blue, with the insouciant opening base sequence introducing Davis’s smokey trumpet. It was always the same music, always “So What,” setting the same naughty jazzy mood— anything else would have been unthinkable to him.

                As the man pulled his shirt over his head and began unbuckling his jeans, the boy’s whimpering swelled into alternating sobs and shrieks. He had no idea he was playing right into his predator’s game plan, for the man’s lust was spiked above all else by another creature’s helplessness. He wanted the boy to beg for his innocence, his bodily integrity—his life. He craved the dark bliss of godlike power over the destiny of another, especially when that other was fully aware of his own utter dependency. This was his drug, his elixir, immeasurably more potent than the heroin he had tried so many times, which, while bestowing bliss, had also dulled his senses, and he lived for the sharpening of his senses. This got him out of bed in the morning.

                “Zach, Zach. It’s all right. We’re just gonna cuddle for a while. Okay? Just lie together and hold each other and make each other feel good, you know?”

                “I wanna go home!” the boy bawled in tearful protest, apparently shocked by the urgency of his own voice, for his sobbing escalated, opening up to a pathetic wail fueled by panic.

                Its only effect was a quickening of the man’s desire. Stimulus … response. No one could hear them there, and it was all just becoming so delicious. As the man slipped out of his jeans, Zach’s eyes were riveted on the bulge in the crotch of his briefs. At eight, he had just enough sexual awareness to know what that bulge meant. Still, it was his dim but nightmarish sense of what might come afterward that intensified the stabs of panic.

                The man lay down on the bed and snuggled up to his prey, whose flinching reflex merely spiked his lust once again. The man was lost within the dark caverns of his desire, the boy trapped within those same caverns.

                “This is so nice,” the man breathed dreamily, reaching down deftly to their mutual nether regions while pressing the sobbing boy to him with unnatural strength …



The sun was down and a purplish twilight graced the overgrown area behind the house as a dark figure strode purposefully from the cellar doors in the rear into a little copse of oak and cedar about a stone’s throw away. He was carrying a base fiddle case. But his firm grip and taut right arm left no doubt that the case’s contents were heavier than any fiddle.  

                After a while, the only sound to pierce the darkening stillness was the rhythmic thrusting of the spade into the soft earth. Far from being drained by the effort of the

cleanup, the man felt juiced, energized, expansive, and, at the same time, utterly relaxed. He reveled in the digging, each thrust of the shovel a little aftershock of that explosion of pleasure for which he lived. Finally, dropping the shovel behind him, he sank to his knees, opened the case and stared for a while at the olive-hued double-strength trash bag that served as a shroud for the lifeless body. Gently lifting the body from the case, he lowered it into its shallow grave, again staring and carefully straightening out both the bag and the body it contained, though without attempting to pose the body in any way. No tableaus, no “necro-symbolism” to titillate the profilers. Just putting it where it belonged.


About the Author

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Author Dennis McCort (1941-) was born and raised in Hoboken, New Jersey, the „mile square city“ on the Hudson, in the shadow of Manhattan. He writes of his experiences growing up there in the postwar industrial era before gentrification in his book, A Kafkaesque Memoir: Confessions from the Analytic Couch (PalmArt Press). McCort is now retired from Syracuse University in upstate New York where he taught German language and literature over a long career. He has authored literary studies on German and Swiss writers and on the influence of Zen Buddhism on such Western writers as J.D. Salinger, R.M. Rilke and Thomas Merton. His understanding of Zen, both as scholar and practitioner, i.e., from both outside and inside, helped him to add layers of complexity to the fascinating personality of the pedophiliac protagonist of Duncan. McCort has also written a comic novel, titled The Man Who Loved Doughnuts, about a young professor who fails to get tenure at his upstate university and spends a lost weekend in lower Manhattan. It is available as an Amazon Kindle eBook. Duncan is his novelization of a macabre seed-concept coming from his wife Dorothy: that of a serial pedophiliac murderer on a collision course with a young boy whose only defense is his stuffed toy gorilla. Both McCort and wife describe the book as a “thinking man’s thriller.”


Contact Links



Purchase Links



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[cover reveal] Cold Falling White by Gabrielle Prenderghast






Today
Gabrielle Prendergast and Rockstar Book Tours are revealing the cover for COLD
FALLING WHITE, the sequel to her Sci-Fi Book ZERO REPEAT FOREVER which releases
November 19, 2019! Check out the awesome cover and enter the giveaway!


On to the
reveal! 


About The Book:
Title: COLD FALLING WHITE (The Nahx Invasions #2)
Author: G.S. Prendergast
Pub. Date: November 19, 2019
Publisher: Simon Schuster Books for Young
Readers
Formats: Hardcover, eBook, audiobook
Pages: 352
Find it: GoodreadsAmazonKindleAudibleB&NiBooksKoboTBD

The 5th Wave meets Beauty and the
Beast in this fast-paced and heart-stopping follow-up to Zero Repeat Forever,
which VOYA called “an edge-of-your-seat page-turner.”


Xander Liu survived the end of the world—just barely. For more than a year he
has outsmarted, hidden from, and otherwise avoided the ruthless alien invaders,
the Nahx, dodging the deadly darts that have claimed so many of his friends.
When the murder of his friend Raven leaves him in the protective company of
August, a rebellious Nahx soldier, Xander is finally able to make his way back
to human controlled territory and relative safety.


But safety amongst the humans is not what it seems. Nothing is anymore.


Raven remembers dying in the arms of August. She remembers the pain, and the
way he cried as she faded away. But months later when she wakes up on a wide
expanse of snowy sand dunes, shackled to a boy she thought was dead too, she
has a lot of questions. What has happened to her and the other reanimated
humans gathered on the dunes? What is the meaning of the Nahx ships that hover
ominously above them? And most pressing of all, where is August, who promised
to keep her safe?


In the shadow of an unforgiving Canadian winter, Xander and Raven find
themselves on opposite sides of an alien war neither of them signed up for.
Left with little choice about their roles in the great battle that now seems
inevitable, they search for answers and allies, all while feeling inexorably
drawn back the place it seems their respective fates were determined, and to
the one who determined them: August.



Title: ZERO
REPEAT FOREVER (The Nahx Invasions #2)
Author: G.S.
Prendergast
Pub. Date: August
29, 2017
Publisher: Simon &
Schuster Books for Young Readers
Formats: Hardcover,
Paperback, eBook, audiobook
Pages: 496
Find it: GoodreadsAmazonKindleAudibleB&NiBooksKoboTBD

The
5th Wave
 meets Beauty
and the Beast
 in this fast-paced and heart-stopping novel about an
invasion of murderous creatures and one girl fighting for her life at the end
of the world.
He has no voice, or name, only a rank, Eighth. He doesn’t know the
details of the mission, only the directives that hum in his mind.


Dart the humans. Leave them where they fall.


His job is to protect his Offside. Let her do the shooting.


Until a human kills her…


Sixteen year-old Raven is at summer camp when the terrifying armored Nahx
invade, annihilating entire cities, taking control of the Earth. Isolated in
the wilderness, Raven and her friends have only a fragment of instruction from
the human resistance.


Shelter in place.


Which seems like good advice at first. Stay put. Await rescue. Raven
doesn’t like feeling helpless but what choice does she have?


Then a Nahx kills her boyfriend.


Thrown together in a violent, unfamiliar world, Eighth and Raven should feel
only hate and fear. But when Raven is injured, and Eighth deserts his unit,
their survival comes to depend on trusting each other… 

ZERO REPEAT FOREVER Book Trailer:




About Gabrielle:


Gabrielle
is a writer, teacher and designer living in Vancouver, Canada.  You
can read about her books 
here. She is represented by Barbara
Poelle at the 
Irene Goodman Literary Agency.
In 2014 she
was the Writer in Residence at Vancouver Public Library. In 2015 she was
nominated for the BC Book Prizes and chosen to tour the province to promote BC
Books. In 2017 Gabrielle took part in the TD Canada Children’s Book Week Tour.
She has also been nominated for the 
White Pine Awardand the CLA Award.

Gabrielle
won the 
Westchester Award for Audacious. Audacious was included
in CBC’s list of 
100 YA Books That Make You Proud
to be Canadian.
 A
poem from 
Capricious was chosen for the 2014 Poetry in Transit Program. Pandas on the East Side was chosen as an Ontario
Library Association Best Bet for Junior Fiction in 2016. It was also
nominated/shortlisted for the Chocolate Lily Award, The Red Cedar Award, the
Diamond Willow Award and the Myrca Award.


Giveaway Details:
1 winner
will receive a signed Zero Repeat Forever hardcover, USA and Canada Only.


[cover reveal] A Gift of Jacinth by Allie McCormack


A Gift of Jacinth
Allie McCormack
(Wishes & Dreams #2)
Publication date: June 4th 2019
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Douglas needed a miracle. What he got was a genie…
Veterinarian Douglas McCandliss considered himself an ordinary kinda guy with an ordinary kinda life. He had no idea why he’d bought the old silver teapot, and when a young woman appeared before him claiming to be a genie, he almost wished he hadn’t. If only she wasn’t so damned cute.
Ebullient and cheerful, Jacinth loved granting wishes and helping people. So she was thrilled when her teapot’s new owner, a single father with custody of two young children, asked her to stay until he could find a nanny. The problem was, the longer she stayed, the more she was attracted to Douglas, and she was certainly not willing to turn over care of Ben and little Molly to just anybody. But she was a 900 year old genie, and had no intention of falling in love with a mortal man. None whatsoever.
Sequel to:



Author Bio:
A career medical transcriptionist, Allie McCormack is now writing from home full-time. Allie has traveled quite a bit and lived many places all over the U.S., and also a year in Cairo, Egypt as an exchange student, and a year in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia under contract to a hospital there, plus a short stint with NATO while she was in the Army. As a single mom, she raised a wonderful daughter who's recently married and there are plans afoot for grandchildren. A disabled veteran, Allie now lives in the beautiful Sorona Desert in southern Arizona with her two rescue cats and writes full-time.
Allie says: "A writer is who and what I am... a romance writer. I write what I know, and what I know is romance. Dozens of story lines and literally hundreds of characters live and breathe within the not-so-narrow confines of my imagination, and it is my joy and privilege to bring them to life, to share them with others by writing their stories."

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Monday, April 15, 2019

[book tour] Father of Contention by Lanie Mores


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Science Fiction and Fantasy, Paranormal Romance
Date Published:  April 9, 2018
Publisher: Tellwell Talent

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There was only ever meant to be one Creator.

In 1972, German scientist Renner Scholz travels to Barbora Bay, Washington where he meets the love of his life, Milena Nowak. Only believing in things proven by science, he becomes obsessed with determining the underlying genetic basis of Milena’s psychic gift.

Stumbling upon an occult ritual, Renner is connected to the spiritual realm where he discovers an unrivaled power that fuels supernatural abilities. But, the answers he’s been searching for come at a cost—his soul.

Driven by new darkness that resides within him, Renner has a breakthrough in his research—able to genetically produce psychic abilities in humans. Milena helplessly watches as her husband becomes deceptive, volatile and both physically and mentally more powerful. Can Milena save Renner from this evil presence? Or will she become an unwilling participant in his next experiment—one of the darkest kinds?




About the Author

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Lanie Mores resides in Ontario with her family, although she enjoys traveling to alternate realities through reading, binge-watching Netflix or playing video games.

She has worn many hats throughout her life: cashier, medical records secretary, psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, personal trainer, mom and now author.

Inspired to write by Stephen King, Diana Gabaldon, Jean M. Auel, and Margaret Atwood, Lanie works diligently to complete her four-part FATHER OF CONTENTION series.

With her writing, Lanie hopes to inspire her readers to think and live outside the box, to be courageous in following their own passions, and live a life of purpose.


Contact Links



Purchase Links




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Saturday, April 13, 2019

[book blitz] Three Star Island by Kat Caulberg


Three Star Island
Kat Caulberg
Published by: Soul Mate Publishing
Publication date: April 10th 2019
Genres: Adult, Historical, Romance, Time-Travel
Stepping through a time portal into 1716, historian Penny Saunders didn’t expect to get stranded in the past. Five years later, now a pariah to the townsfolk of Three Star Island, she endures solitude and ridicule until a hurricane tosses a dangerous castaway onto her shores.
William Payne’s history precedes him. Pirate, outlaw, and ruthless captain, he’s a monster among men. . . or so it seems. Desperately seeking redemption for his blood-soaked past, he upends Penny’s world by showing her a passion she’s never experienced.
But time is closing in on them; the governor of the Carolinas has rescinded his pirates’ pardon, the locals are growing suspicious of Penny’s new houseguest, and she can’t keep her secrets from William forever. When everything falls apart, she must use both wits and weapons against lawmen and pirates alike to save the one man who would tear down the world for her.
EXCERPT:
Penelope stood in the crater the time portal had sliced into the tree line. Sheared-off branches sprouted new growth overhead, and grass choked the scorched ground, concealing most of the sand that had been fused into glass globules by the rift. Frowning, she dislodged one of the spheres with the tip of her shoe and kicked it into the dunes. This gate hadn’t opened in months.
Two days prior, a hurricane had ravaged Three Star. Alone on the southern tip of the island, Penny had ridden out the storm in her farmhouse while gales ripped up centuries-old live oaks by their roots and tossed debris through the walls of her outbuildings. She’d seen a time gate’s flicker in the immediate aftermath half a mile from where she now stood on the beach, but there had been no reason to dash out into the dwindling rain in hopes of reaching it before it shut.
None of them would let her go home again.
Grasping her skirts in one hand, she made her way through the oat grass to ascertain what the storm had offered her in compensation. The summer of 1721 had been a blistering one, providing scarcely any rain to offset the heat. With few thunderstorms of much note, ships in the area had enjoyed a season of calm, returning to port with full holds and happy sailors, and Penny’s larder suffered for it. Without wreckage to pick through, she’d survived on meager rations from her garden and the bones of a sloop that ran aground on the shoals to the south.
Yesterday threw one more long, hard bout of rain at the island, keeping her inside until dusk. Now, with the sun a few hours into the sky, she hurried to collect her share of the shattered remains of dead men’s fortunes. This time, she was determined it wouldn’t bother her. She tucked a short strand of hair behind her ear, knuckled her glasses higher, and proceeded to the shore.
The sea mirrored the heavens, flat and tranquil. Whitecaps lapped the sand, pulling back to reveal a stripe of broken shells stretching as far as she could see. Currents funneled past the rock barrier jutting out into the water, and a smattering of planks and splintered crates gathered on the sand bars the rising tide would soon submerge.
Penny stooped to dip her fingers into a mountain of sea foam. Lacework-white and delicate, it dissolved at her touch. A flicker of movement caught her eye. Slanting toward the beach on a downdraft, a laughing gull shrieked its peculiar, broken cry and swooped over a figure lying in the surf.
Her stomach dropped. The waves had disgorged a body.
Straightening, she fidgeted with her apron strings. The tide was rising. Soon, the ocean would reclaim the life it had taken, leaving no trace of the drowned man behind. Here, he was alone and unknown. Somewhere else, however, he would be an empty seat at a hearth, a bed half-filled, a promise unkept. Like her, he could never go home again.
Penelope sighed. Unable to bury him, she could at least bear witness to his return to the sea. Keeping close to the water, she trudged toward him.
She stopped when his arm moved. It was a tiny motion she could’ve mistaken for a trick of the wind, his sleeve toyed with by the breeze, yet when his fist clenched the sand, she was certain.
He was alive.
“Son of a . . .”



Author Bio:
For as long as she can remember, Kat Caulberg has been obsessed with history and the paranormal. Somewhat to the dismay of her parents, her interests led her into both museums and graveyards as a child, a trend which has continued into her adulthood. This has influenced her reading tastes and her writing, whether it be a good ghost story, thrilling tales of time-travel, or devouring endless volumes of ancient warfare.
She signed a contract with Soul Mate Publishing in 2018 for her first novel, Three Star Island, a time-travel story set in 1721. She enjoys writing strong, quirky heroines, and has a weakness for cheeky heroes who have as much compassion as they have flaws.
Kat currently lives in North Carolina with her Englishman and a few cats.

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