Mary Anne Yarde's Blog: The Coffee Pot Book Club , page 81

Check out Anselle Frère's fabulous book — Dangerous Liaisons: The Prequel #HistoricalFiction @Laclosprequel

 

How did the Marquise & Valmont first meet?

What made their love so dangerous?

The answers lie in this discovered manuscript –

--Dangerous Liaisons: The Prequel

Lost for 250 years, here are the very first letters which passed between the young Marquise-to-be and the young Vicomte de Valmont. These reveal the beginnings of their dangerous attraction, their posturing, their powerplay.

Here also are the letters of their friends, foes and family: characters who fight to assert control over the young Marquise-to-be and Valmont.

The key to Sophie, the Marquise-to-be lies here: why she disdains to live by the rules of society of the ‘ancien regime’, why she throws off the constraints placed upon her sex, why she seeks control over the young male libertines who surround her –

--including the Vicomte de Valmont.

As her private letters unfurl, it becomes clear that not all predators are men:

---‘[I was] born to avenge my sex and to dominate yours’ Les Liaisons Dangereuses: Letter 81.

 

Praise for Dangerous Liaisons: The 

Prequel

 

“Dangerous Liaisons: The Prequel (Volume I) is wonderfully accomplished. Stylistically it's elegant, diverse and rich…this is the bottom line - it's a really good story…”

John Taylor – BBC Radio 4 producer of multiple adaptations including Proust and C.S. Lewis

Excerpt

 

Dangerous Liaisons: The Prequel

(Volume 1)

 

A novel presented in the form of a collection of correspondence.

  

1. A NOBLEMAN to the CHEVALIER D’IVRY (sent from PARIS, 9 AUGUST 1776)

 

In the off-season, a young man’s thoughts may turn to the seduction of another man’s wife. The wife might choose to fall prey to this seduction - the notion of ‘choice’ here being a treacherous one. It is this sort of treachery which brings to mind the great Rousseau who writes that ‘women are strong enough not to succumb unless they want to’…and this is a theme which now we must explore.

Monsieur, I put you on notice that for these two months past, your wife has chosen to take up a passionate liaison with me. It was not difficult to persuade her to break the sacred bonds of her marriage to you. Had I asked it of her, she would have stained all her future, reputation and society to be kept under my protection indefinitely. Never did her conscience cause her a moment’s hesitation and this, I was surprised to find, had its own curious charm.

There lies a reason behind my seduction of the Chevalière, your

Anselle Frère

 

 

 

Check out Ian Hunter's fabulous book — Quillan Creek and the Little War (Times Stones Book I) #YoungAdult #TimeTravel @IanHunterAuthor

Quillan Creek and the Little War

Times Stones Book I

By Ian Hunter

Jessie Mason has troubles enough in her young life. Orphaned and shunned, her aunt has been the one constant in her life. But when her aunt inexplicably disappears, and Jessie discovers her mother's Time Stone, events at the upstate New York children's home land Jessie in mortal peril.

Her escape is a summons to a world of conflict, upheaval and fear, 250 years in her past, and to three unlikely companions: Tip, Kes and Abe. The aged shaman, Nishkamich, takes them under his wing, promising an education in the powers of the stones which they each possess. Jessie, disbelieving all explanations of where she is, reluctantly agrees to remain in the hostile Onondaga village and listen to his instruction.

Over one long summer, Jessie warms to her strange new life, and the growing bond between her unpredictable fellow apprentices. But as Tip and Abe reveal the paths of destruction which brought them to the village, the friends have to consider that their stones are being ruthlessly hunted through history.

In ice and snow, a hunting trip suddenly becomes a deadly trial which will test their friendship, their wits, and the limits of their endurance, in the face of nature’s unforgiving winter and one man’s determination to seize what is theirs.

Excerpt

 

The chamber had emptied but for the four of them. Nishkamich made his way to the door, shooing Kes and Abe out ahead of him. Jessie fumed for a minute, then, seeing no benefit of staying behind alone, followed.

 

Nishkamich was waiting on the other side of the door. Without asking, he took her arm as they walked. She welcomed the breeze on her face after the suffocating heat of the council chamber, and lifted her head to meet the cool air. Above, the heavens stretched unbroken, an uninterrupted vast expanse of black purple above them. Countless millions of stars turned a flat canvas into an immense picture, which had no frame, no beginning, no end. Jessie stopped and turned where she stood, in awe at the size of the sky, until, halfway through, she caught her breath. A fabulous brushstroke, full of subtle pinks and oranges, greens and purples, brilliant white light and dark sepia clouds, the Milky Way was a beautiful, brooding, magnificent flaw in the masterpiece.

 

“Such wonder,” Nishkamich broke the spell.

 

Her anger returned.

 

“Who were those people? And where have they taken Tip?” Her voice was sharp.

 

The old man looked to where Abe and Kes were now out of earshot in the shadows of a nearby longhouse.

 

“Those are the false faces. Were you impressed?”

 

Jessie grunted. “What’s this ceremony?”

 

With a squeeze of her arm, he directed her off towards some logs arranged around an empty fire pit, eased himself on to one, and invited her to join him.

 

“Tiponi has been disturbed since she arrived here, you know this. The village believe she is battling a spirit…”

 

“Not that rubbish again!” Jessie retorted. “I’ve explained…”

 

The hard stare and narrowed eyes held her tongue.

 

“You are a guest in this village Jessie, and you must respect the traditions and beliefs of my people.” He softened his voice. “I think you appreciate how that worked to our advantage tonight,” he smiled with satisfaction. “We see things differently from you. Our traditions, our stories, explain life and death and the world we live in. My people do not have the advantage, or the curse, of the knowledge available in your world.”

 

She felt sufficiently chastened to keep quiet for a few seconds.

 

“Hold on...,” Jessie frowned. She had missed something. “Wait a minute…” She held up a hand as she cast her mind back.

 

Nishkamich remained silent as she collected her thoughts.

 

“You were quite sure on our first morning that I would find nothing of my world here. And you talk of how knowledge has changed the world. How could you know? How could you possibly know what I expected to see, unless you had seen it yourself? You’ve been there.” Her statement sounded like a challenge.

 

Instead of answering, Nishkamich scanned the stars, while Jessie waited impatiently. Then, having given his answer sufficient consideration, he turned to Jessie.

 

“You may find it hard to imagine me an impetuous young man, but I assure you I was once.” He smiled at his own light heartedness.

 

Jessie kept her features blank, wanting him to get to the point.

 

“Many summers gone, when the stone first came into my possession, I took it upon myself to explore and learn. I told myself I was curious, but I was arrogant; reckless and dazzled with the power I had been given.”

 

“White people were already changing our world, so I decided to go and see who they were. A different world, just beyond the forest, was mine to explore. I visited New York when it was a small town on a large island. I went further, to Boston and Charleston. The whites were hard and cruel. More than once I had to flee from beatings and capture. So, I started travelling further. Not just to other places but, as I soon discovered, other times. The further I went the more I wanted to see. I got myself into some situations…”

 

Nishkamich chuckled quietly, then the smile slipped from his face.

 

“But luck runs out, Jessie. Never forget that. When you surrender your fate to luck, when you stop considering the consequences of your actions, that is when luck fails. I arrived, by accident, in a time for which I was unprepared; where I had less understanding of my surroundings than a young child. So many people, and so much noise. I recognized nothing but the cruelness of people. The air smelled burned, the rivers were poisoned and sick. I longed for the forests, but they had vanished.”

 

“I was lost and alone and the Haudenosaunee gone. That world was truly frightening, Jessie. I am sure you think the same way about this village.” He smiled again, and this time Jessie returned his grin.

 

“I returned here like a frightened dog and never dared explore again.”

 

An avalanche of questions battled to be first out of Jessie’s mouth, but she was too slow. Nishkamich slapped both thighs loudly to lighten his mood.

 

“You impressed the council. You spoke bravely, with heart and feeling, and they believed, in their best interests.”

 

Again, his attention drifted. Jessie could see an agile mind working behind his bright eyes.

 

“It would not surprise you that I could not find my people? What you said to the council, of the white people and their hunger for land, it will overwhelm us. You know this for certain…because for you it has already happened?”

 

Jessie could think of nothing to ease the pain. What could she say? Yes, he could find the Haudenosaunee if he knew where to look: stripped of their lands; their culture and customs repressed by centuries of white rule; limited to a few, inadequate reservations, where opportunity was scare. Yes, they were still to be found. But he wouldn’t recognize what he saw. She fixed on a point above his head, so she didn’t have to see the anguish in his eyes and nodded her affirmation.

 

They sat together for what felt like an age. But eventually, having digested the news, Nishkamich reached out and patted her arm briskly.

 

“We have things to discuss and plans to make. The Haudenosaunee still have a part to play in this world; a large part I believe. Help me up please.”

 

Jessie frowned, not at all sure what that meant, but he gave her an encouraging smile as she pulled him to his feet.

 

“I have spent time thinking about you,” he opened, as they stepped away from the fire pit.

 

There seemed no expectation for her to reply, and once again, she could think of none to give. So, she waited for Nishkamich to continue.

 

“Abe pointed out at our first meeting that your stone is different from the others.”

 

“Yes,” she replied quickly. A neutral subject on which she could speak without caution. “I wondered that as well. Mine is smaller than the others…and it has lots of different colours. I thought perhaps it was…inferior in some way, not as strong as the others…or…” she shrugged.

 

The Shaman stopped and scrutinized her, then carried on his shuffle.

 

“Quality determines greatness Jessie, not size.”

 

“Quality?” she frowned.

 

“Your first response was to compare the sizes; finding your own to be lacking. I, however, think the many colours within your stone is a most important quality.”

 

He stopped again to watch her. Jessie knotted her forehead, assuming his silence meant she was expected to continue with the explanation. But she had nothing.

 

“Imagine each stone displays the essence of itself,” he continued patiently, “a…presence, a power, by the colour.”

 

Jessie frowned and shook her head.

 

“Abe’s stone is green, but only green. Tiponi’s is clear, like water. Yours is both green and clear, but as well purple, like the stone Kesejowaase has. What does that tell you?”

 

“That my stone contains something of each of theirs?” she asked cautiously.

 

“Yes. Yes,” he smiled. “It is connected to theirs and in a way each of theirs is not to the others. What else do you think we know from this?”

 

Jessie had used up her only guess.

 

“The presence of so many colours within your stone…?” he helped.

 

“There must be other stones!” she exclaimed, and then paused. “Where do they come from? What are they?”

 

“That I cannot answer you,” he shrugged. “I do not know where they come from, but what they are…” Nishkamich paused as Kes emerged from the darkness.

 

“I thought you were behind us.” His tone was polite, but Jessie could see he was annoyed.

 

Pick up your copy of

Quillan Creek and the Little War

Amazon UK • Amazon US

 

Ian Hunter

Ian Hunter is an independent author, who lives with his wife, Michelle, and their two children in Southern Germany. He grew up in Reading where he worked first in a bank, before moving into the IT industry. In 1995, the family moved to Germany, near the city of Stuttgart, on the edge of the Black Forest. For 7 years, between 1995 and 2002, unfailing family support and the desire to indulge a life-long fascination with history, drew Ian to study with the Open University, and he completed a Bachelor’s degree in History with Humanities. This passion, and a long-time love of reading, proved the inspiration for the Time Stones series; adventure, some magic, and the chance to go anywhere, at any time, in the 5000 years of civilization. The years of OU study persuaded Ian there are many fascinating events in our past which are seldom covered in popular culture, and with the Time Stones books, he wishes to shine a light on some of those.

 

Book 1- Quillan Creek and the Little War, introduces readers to Jessie and her three new friends, as they learn about the powers they now possess, and the dangers they can look forward to. Book 2 in the series, to be published in summer 2020, continues the adventure, in a time when the world is about to change forever.

 

Connect with Ian:

Website • Twitter • Amazon Author Page.

 

 

Have a sneak peak between the covers of Anca Antoci's fabulous book — Forget Me Not #YoungAdult #Paranormal #GreatReads @AncaAntoci

Forget Me Not

By Anca Antoci

 

Deceiving the vampire that saved her could get her killed, but it's a risk she's willing to take.

 

When tragedy strikes, Rae makes a terrible choice and struggles with the aftermath. In the wilderness of the Tongass rainforest, she finds herself hunted by creatures of hell, monsters she never dreamed could be real.

 

A hidden world, an ancient race, and a secret she discovers by accident give a new meaning to her life but only if she can escape and return to civilization. If she is to survive, Rae must comply with Ari, her reluctant hero, and allow him to wipe away any memory of this realm. Knowledge is power, but is it worth dying for?

 

When push comes to shove, that's when real strength emerges.

What would it take to discover what you're made of?

 

Excerpt

 

She ran through the darkness of the forest without looking back. Rae ducked under the low hanging branches the way she had a million times before. A howl from nearby brought her to a halt. Smiling, she wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and whistled. He was close enough to hear her.

 

"They found me! Take everyone back to safety, and I'll take them off your trail. I'll see you later!" Her words came out in a rush but she had no doubt he understood. Without wasting another moment, she ran in the opposite direction. This wasn't her first rodeo with the forces of evil. A dark cloaked silhouette emerged from the cover of a thick tree. His voice was hoarse, and he mumbled something under his breath. As Rae got closer, his words got clearer. He was chanting in a language she didn't understand, yet the effect wasn't lost on her. A debilitating headache almost blinded her. She fell to her knees, grasping her temples, breathless, as blood trickled from her nose. A sharp pain tore through her head. An ear-splitting scream left her lips with what she imagined was her last breath. It was a signal for the others to keep running and not look back. They were on their own.

 

The pain stopped as suddenly as it started, and she panted, filling her lungs with air again. Rae rubbed her eyes and waited a few moments to regain her sight while she used her sleeve to clean the blood up.

 

The cloaked man knelt and sobbed while someone's face buried in the crook of his neck, long blonde curls cascading over his shoulder. Seconds after the sobbing stopped, the man dropped to the ground.

 

Blondie stood up and turned towards Rae.

 

"Are you OK?"

 

"I am now, thanks to you!" She recognized her sister's voice and felt at ease. "It's my job to look after you, Rae."

 

"Maria, it's almost dawn. You should find shelter. Run as fast as you can! I'll be fine on my own. I promise I'll be careful!"

 

Maria stopped for a moment and smiled. The full moon lit her face in a grotesque picture of pitch-black eyes, bloody lips, and protruding fangs. She took a deep breath, and her face morphed back to human. Her eyes reverted to their natural blue, revealing the pretty girl behind the monster.

 

"Please be careful! You're getting cocky, and that makes you reckless. That was one of their elders. You're no match for them. You were lucky I got here when I did. As a shadow, too many lives depend on you. We can’t afford to lose you!" Her voice softened. "I can't lose you!" After a quick hug, Maria disappeared in a blurred motion into the darkness.

 

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and listened for any sound that would give her stalker away. She counted the bodies she left in her wake, adding the one Maria killed. There was at least one more hunting for her. She couldn't be taken by surprise if she expected an attack. Rae didn't have to wait long. A twig snapped at her right. She pivoted with grace on the ball of her right foot and faced the threat.

 

A man stepped out from the treeline holding a dagger and glaring her way. She rubbed her palms to create friction, a blue flame balling up between them. He didn't stand a chance. Her lips curled into a smirk as the blue flame shot from her palms and hit him on the chest, stopping his heart. She was getting good at this. Another confirmed kill. This is where she belonged. Believing her actions kept the Resistance safe from the Council pleased Rae. She was part of a greater plan, more than a mere pawn in the grand scheme of life. She mattered! She was about to give herself a pat on the back when the smell of brimstone tested her gag reflex. That scent always came with bad news: hellhounds! She couldn't outrun them, and her power was useless on them. Her best bet was to make it back to her car and drive like a bat out of hell.

 

Her legs started working long before she finished her thought. She rushed towards the treeline where her car was waiting, and she almost made it. Almost! Her sprint was brought to a halt by a hunk of a man leaning shirtless against her car. His eyes caught her off guard: endless pits of smoldering fire. But his stare was ice cold. Just then, a waft of brimstone and coal tickled her nose and made her eyes water. Hellhounds were the most vicious chimeras: only used as enforcers by the Council. No one figured out what they looked like because no one lived to tell the tale.

 

Rae woke up gasping and covered in a sheen layer of sweat. Reality came down with a vengeance. This kind of dream took atoll on her. It all started the night Maria died.

 

They weren't on speaking terms and Rae hadn't even known that her sister was sick. Rae loved reading fantasy and paranormal books, so when she woke up from her nightmare, she assumed it was all because of her late-night readings. Then that dreaded phone call came and changed everything. A woman claiming to be Maria's next-door neighbor gave her the bad news. These dreams plagued her each moment she managed to get some shuteye. Rae had trouble accepting the sudden death of her sister, so she imagined her dreams came as a coping mechanism.

 

Her brain changed Maria into a vampire so she would live forever. She believed it wasn't real, but it made her feel better. Despite being almost always nightmares, Rae welcomed them. In her dreams, she was amazing: fearless, strong; a fighter who could shoot blue light from her hands and save the world. In her dreams, she became a hero, and her sister was still alive.

 

In real life, none of these things were true. She was meek, scared, and alone.

 

 

Pick up your copy of

Forget Me Not

Amazon UK • Amazon US • Barnes and Noble • Book Depository

Add Forget Me Not to your ‘to-read’ list on

Goodreads

 

Anca Antoci

Anca Antoci started out as a fanfiction writer and then moved on to write her own story. Thus her debut novel Forget Me Not got published in January 2020.

 

Her fanfiction stories are still available on her blog www. Living in Romania, Anca speaks English as a second language.

 

Because she's a passionate reader, Anca started a blog where she reviews fantasy books called Summon Fantasy. When she's not reading or writing, Anca loves cooking and watching movies with her daughter while eating nachos.

 

Connect with Anca:

Website • Facebook • Instagram • Twitter

 

 

Check out Patricia Furstenberg's fabulous book — Silent Heroes: When Love And Values Are Worth Fighting For #Military #Thriller @PatFurstenberg

Silent Heroes

When Love And Values Are Worth Fighting For

By Patricia Furstenberg

How far would you go to save strangers in need?

 

An educated woman makes the ultimate sacrifice to teach girls to read. The lives of the daughter and son left behind become intertwined with those of the U.S. Marines and their military dogs. But the Taliban is infiltrated everywhere and is hard to differentiate between friend and foe.

 

What if everything you knew about history was wrong, each group partaking writing its own version? Discover the fate of the Marines deployed in Afghanistan; climb the breathtaking Hindu-Kush Mountains to witness the whispers of the Taliban; dive in the belly of ancient Qala-e-Bost fortress in the midst of battle and experience the rich culture of the Afghan people.

 

Silent Heroes is an emotional rollercoaster of a read, a page-turner with a vivid sense of the place, history blending with politics examining war from a different perspective. Which one is true?

 

This utterly thrilling war fiction inspired by true events was written by a Historical Fiction bestselling author and chosen One of 5 Books Everyone Should Read in Their Lifetime.

 

Excerpt

 

An old man, with paper-thin skin as wrinkled as the first affectionate letter draft of a frustrated lover, slowly approached them. Solemn eyes, watchful, yet a serene look on his face. His clothes, although clean, were worn and sun-yellowed. Conde could spot the knee-wear at the front of the man’s kameez. A pair of piercing blue eyes, vivid and alert, measured them from underneath a neatly folded headdress.

 

‘As-salāmu ʿalaykum.’ He bowed slowly from the waist, his brown palms pressed together, two make-shift wooden crutches tucked between each arm and his torso.

 

Seen in such proximity his hands were a stone sculpture in red marble, the marble of Turkey and Iran, calloused and raw, like they had worked for him all his life, twice as hard. What kind of a life had this man known? Through how many wars had he lived while tending his garden?

 

The soldiers half bowed, in respect. Honda laid her head on her front paws and offered a sigh of pleasure, in the cool shade.

 

The man swiped his left hand across the garden. Conde guessed that the man’s left leg was the good one.

 

‘This, our garden. Fruits, greens, for healthy children.’ His voice sounded firm but pleading.

 

‘It is beautiful,’ Dunn said.

 

‘You are a very good gardener,’ added Conde and he drew a grid in the air with his hand; the garden’s floor plan. The old man’s eyes shone with pride. And something else. Surprise? Hope?

 

A small brown head sprouted at the left side of the man. Hair parted in the middle, two pigtails plated tightly, to hold. Two eyebrows pencilled straight above big, brown eyes that spoke of a beautiful soul, at home in the middle of this patch of man-made nature. Eyes that searched his face with a maturity beyond her age. Eyes that knew the intense suffering of an animal at the hand of human cruelty. Yet she smiled and her pink cheeks offered him two dimples and a strand of pearly whites.

 

‘The vegetables were helping,’ thought Conde.

 

In her hands, the girl held a woven basket filled with mulberries.

 

‘Our mulberries,’ explained the old Afghan man proudly as he waved towards the trees lining the sides of their hidden garden.

 

‘This is the land of Brobdingnag and I am Gulliver,’ said Tweedledee.

 

‘You’re Gullible for sure,’ replied Tweedledum. ‘These are red mulberries, Afghan ones, they are so sweet. Have some,’ he said while extending his arm past Conde and picking a fruit as long and as thick as his thumb. A myriad of tiny luscious beads in shades of berry red, sangria and mahogany, even wine-red, were holding tightly together like a bunch of nuns caught undercover.

 

The old Afghan man smiled and, repositioning his crutches, retreated to a wooden bench leaving space next to him for the remainder of the soldiers. Dunn joined him, the sweetness of the fruit fresh on his tongue. Conde chose to sit on the earth nearby, his hand stroking Honda’s fur. The dog lifted her head, licked the soldier’s hand then placed it on his knee, groaning in joy. Only Dunn noticed Conde’s jaw tightening in pain as the Marine looked down towards the dog’s head. Honda’s crown had almost the same shade of black as Xena’s, with the difference in the lengths of the hairs.

 

Pick up your copy of

Silent Heroes

Amazon UK • Amazon US

 

Patricia Furstenberg

Patricia Furstenberg is a multi-genre author who grew up in the Eastern Block, which might explain why she found herself drawn towards history after completing her Medical degree.

Silent Heroes is her 13th book and her first work of adult fiction. Like in many of her previous writings Patricia had to include at least a dog among her characters.

Not many know, but Pat discovered that her medical studies came in handy while writing Silent Heroes. She also observed a séance during her teen years. Perhaps she will use that experience in her next book, inspired by Romanian folklore and medieval history.

Connect with Patricia: Website • Blog • Twitter • Facebook • Goodreads.

 

 

 

Check out Penny Hampson's fabulous #NewRelease — The Unquiet Spirit #ParanormalRomance @penny_hampson

The Unquiet Spirit

By Penny Hampson

 

A new beginning. A house with a past. A man with secrets.

 

It was a dream come true…that turned into a nightmare.

 

Kate Wilson thinks moving back to Cornwall might be the answer to her prayers. But it isn’t long before she begins to have doubts. Is the house she inherited from her godmother haunted? Or is she going out of her mind? With a stalker, threats, and attempted break-ins, Kate’s troubles multiply.

 

Then there’s her enigmatic neighbour, the brooding Tom Carbis; a man with secrets he doesn’t wish to share. Can she trust him when he says he wants to help?

 

In her quest to unravel the mysteries surrounding her, will Kate uncover more than she bargains for?

 

Set in beautiful Cornwall, The Unquiet Spirit is a gripping suspense with paranormal and romantic elements. Fans of Barbara Erskine will enjoy this tale.

 

 

Praise for The Unquiet Spirit

 

'A gripping mystery, guaranteed to send chills down your spine and keep you enthralled to the last word'

Beth Elliott, author of Regency Tales

Excerpt

 

Kate arched her back and rolled her shoulders. She was exhausted. Muscles ached in places she didn’t know she had muscles, and a persistent pain hovered over her eyes. She’d started in the kitchen, throwing away out-of-date items from the cupboards and cleaning the musty fridge. Then she’d tackled the bathrooms, the main one upstairs, the smaller ensuite one to the bedroom she intended as hers, and the ground floor cloakroom. Finally, she’d dusted and hoovered all the ground floor rooms.

 

She put the vacuum cleaner away and decided a coffee was in order. Five minutes later, Kate slumped into a chair at the kitchen table to wait for the kettle to boil. She must have nodded off, because the next thing she was aware of were the clouds of steam and water running down the windows. Blast! She leapt up and got to the kettle just in time. The last thing she needed was a hunt round Falmouth for a new one. She slugged back two paracetamol with her coffee – her head was banging now – and considered what else needed doing. Tomorrow, she’d bring a scarf for her hair and possibly a mask. She’d been sneezing all day. Who knew dusting would be so…dusty? And she’d get food. No point in making herself ill. She looked out the window to the darkening sky. It was getting late. Just one final check round before leaving for the night.

 

The stairs creaked as she went up to what had been Win’s bedroom, part of a large eighteenth century addition to the eastern front of the house. Both its windows overlooked the main drive, and a swift glance told her that they were secured. The bathroom windows, which were at the back, were also locked. Now for the first of the two small bedrooms at the centre front of the house. The door handle wouldn’t budge, even though she’d already been in the room. She grimaced as she struggled, mentally adding a can of WD40 to her shopping list. The handle suddenly gave way and she almost tumbled into the room.

 

Her eyes widened at the sight of the sash window. It was open at the bottom, and the curtains were flapping about in the breeze. Kate was pretty sure it had been closed earlier. She went over and pushed down hard, but it wouldn’t budge. Scratching her head, wondering what to do, she jumped when the sash moved on its own, slamming shut with a crash.

 

‘What the…?’

 

Behind her, the door closed with a loud click. She spun round.

 

‘Bloody hell!’

 

Frowning, and trying to keep her rising panic under control, she stalked over to the door. Again, the handle wouldn’t budge. A spike of fear went down her spine. Her stomach churned. Stay calm. Deep breaths. Goosebumps rose on her bare arms. She shivered.

 

The temperature had dropped several degrees, in fact, it now felt positively Arctic. She sniffed. Was that rosemary she could smell? Imagination, she told herself. She gave the handle another try. It turned easily.

 

I’m going round the bend, she scolded herself… She shouldn’t have taken those tablets on an empty stomach. Still shaking, Kate took the stairs two at a time, grabbed her bag, and headed for the car.

 

Convincing herself that the unsetting events of the day were the result of an overactive imagination, Kate put them out of her mind once she arrived back at the flat. She’d come to the conclusion that low blood sugar must have been the reason for her stupid delusions about windows and doors opening and closing on their own, and smelling something that wasn’t there. Yes, they were delusions. Nothing to worry about.

 

Pick up your copy of

The Unquiet Spirit

Amazon UK • Amazon US

Penny Hampson

Some time ago Penny Hampson decided to follow her passion for history by studying with the Open University. She graduated with honours and went on to complete a post-graduate degree.

Penny then landed her dream role, working in an environment where she was surrounded by rare books and historical manuscripts. Flash forward nineteen years, and the opportunity came along to indulge her other main passion – writing. Penny joined the New Writers’ Scheme of the RNA and  three years later published her debut novel, A Gentleman’s Promise, a traditional Regency romance. Other books in the same genre soon followed.

But never happy in a rut, Penny also writes contemporary suspense with paranormal and romantic elements. Her first book in this genre is The Unquiet Spirit, published by Darkstroke.

Penny lives with her family in Oxfordshire, and when she is not writing, she enjoys reading, walking, swimming, and the odd gin and tonic (not all at the same time).

Connect with Penny:

 Blog • Facebook • Twitter.

 

Check out A.R. Vagnetti's fabulous #NewRelease — Forbidden Storm (Storm series book 2) #paranormalromance #vampire @ARVagnetti

Forbidden Storm

(Storm series book 2)

A.R. Vagnetti

Lucretia Bramen overcame a sordid and violent history to become the first female Guardian, but when old enemies threaten to expose her most intimate secrets, Lu faces the biggest choice of her life: reveal her past betrayal and risk execution or turn her back on a forbidden love offering everything she desires.

​Kurtis Ruse's burdens weigh heavy on his immense shoulders; deliver peace to his people, manage his dojo among the humans, control his inner beast in order to uncover his mate’s treacherous mysteries. Kurtis fears circumstances will force him to choose between the enigmatic vampire who captured his heart and the only woman he trusts above all others.

Excerpt

“Thank you, Lu.” The warmth from Logan’s palm sears my shoulder. “Accepting you as a Guardian was the wisest decision I made. It eases my burden to know you protect what is mine.”

Oh, if he only realized. “With my life, my lord.” I present a slight bow even as guilt crawls up my abdomen.

The constriction on my chest lessens somewhat when Logan nods then strides away. The commander recruited me despite the fact the Guardians never had a female warrior in their history.

Vampire culture evolved with the times, along with the mortals, but throughout the centuries we remained a patriarchal nation. Females have their place: look beautiful, plan grand festivities, and service their males.

I’m an anomaly. As far back as I recall, I craved to be a soldier, to fight with swords, daggers, my bare hands. Corsets, frilly dresses, and tea parties would never be my destiny.

I stiffen as Kurtis’s aroma ignites my senses: raw and masculine. Before I can halt them, my fangs descend, throbbing to plunge into his flesh. Saliva pools in my mouth, anticipating the flavor of his blood. The overwhelming vision of his nude body appears in my mind. I inhale deeply, glory in my primal reaction for a moment longer, before cramming it to the background and ordering my canines to recede. My visceral response to his mere scent is disturbing.

“Lucretia.” I love the sound of my name on his lips. “Might I have a word with you?”

My eyebrow lifts. He’s asking? Since when? A desperate impulse to rush down the hall away from the tantalizing presence has my muscles straining, but as a prince, he outranks me. In this public venue, I must keep it formal.

I enjoy my head attached to my neck.

With a courteous smile plastered on my face, I spin to meet the bright blue stare. “Of course, my lord.” Attired in a black, pinstriped three-piece suite, Kurtis looks as if he strode out of GQ magazine for health and fitness fanatics. His wardrobe must be tailor-made to fit such a tall, muscular frame.

“I ah… I want to apologize for my remarks in the garden the other night.” 

Whoa. What? “You need not apologize to me, my lord. You are a prince.” What the hell is he doing? I glance anxiously at a female banshee ogling Kurtis like candy. He doesn’t even acknowledge the little beauty.

“Well then, as a prince, I should obtain better manners, don’t you think?”

His deep husky tone, fused with the provocative grin, does weird things to my stomach. I gulp. Loudly. As much as I ache for this male, instinct demands I step back. Aggression and anger I can handle. This, not-so-subtle flirtation makes my head spin.

“Is there someplace we might talk in private, Lucretia?”

Oh, no. Being alone with Kurtis is a bad, bad idea. “The ceremony is about to begin, my lord,” I stall. “Perhaps you should….”

“I won’t bite.” Crap. The lopsided grin melts my insides. “Hard anyway.”

“No?” I overlook my breathy voice. “But I do.” Good grief, I’m flirting with the next shapeshifter king. What the hell is wrong with me?

Pick up your copy of

Forbidden Storm

Amazon UK • Amazon US

A.R. Vagnetti

A.R. Vagnetti is an American writer who grew up in the scalding Tucson desert. Her debut novel, Forgotten Storm, is the first book in her Storm series and won the Top 20 Best Indie Books of 2019.

She does her best writing while camping, traveling, and on the beautiful shores of Lake Huron where she is now blessed to spend her summers away from the Arizona heat.

A.R. loves to transport readers into a fantastical world of paranormal romance where bold Alpha males will sacrifice anything for the strong, deeply scared, kickass females they love.

Connect with A.R. Vagnetti:

Website • Blog • Twitter • Facebook • Instagram • Pinterest.

 

 

Historical Fiction Blog Tours with The Coffee Pot Book Club #HistoricalFiction #BlogTours

Historical Fiction

Blog Tours with

The Coffee Pot Book Club

What is a blog tour?

​

With the age of the internet and modern technology, the way books are marketed is changing. Unlike conventional book tours, a blog tour is a virtual tour on a number of relevant blogs. Virtual tours are a fabulous way to get your book in front of the audience you want to target.

 

Why Choose The Coffee Pot Book Club?

​

The Coffee Pot Book Club prides itself on professional and affordable book promotion. The founder, Mary Anne Yarde, has been promoting authors, both traditional and independent, since 2015. The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tours Package offers the opportunity for authors to promote their books to a worldwide audience, in the comfort of their own home.

 

How much does it cost?

​

Blog Tour Packages

 

Package 1

​

Would you like to take your book on a virtual tour but don't have the time to write Guest Post and answer interview questions? Then, the EXCERPT ONLY tour is the blog tour for you!

• 5 blog stops over 5 days

• Social Media Exposure: Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Pinterest & Instagram

• Personalised Tour Banner

Total Cost £55.00

​

Package 2

​

Would you like to keep the momentum of your book's new release going for as long as possible, then this tour might be the one for you! 

One blog stop a week for ten weeks.

• Social Media Exposure: Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Pinterest & Instagram

• This tour includes a combination of author interviews, guest posts, book spotlight, book spotlight and excerpt

• Personalised Tour Banner

Total Cost £62.00

​

Package 3

​

• 10 blog stops over 10 days

• This tour includes a combination of *reviews, author interviews, guest posts, book spotlight and excerpt

• Social Media Exposure: Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Pinterest & Instagram

• Personalised Tour Banner

Total Cost £95.00

​

Package 4​

​

• 10 blog stops over 10 days

• This tour includes a combination of *reviews, author interviews, guest posts, book spotlight and excerpt

• Social Media Exposure: Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Pinterest & Instagram

• Personalised Tour Banner

• 10 Days sidebar advertisement of your book on The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog

Total Cost £125.00

​

Package 5​

​

• 10 blog stops over 10 days

• This tour includes a combination of *reviews, author interviews, guest posts, book spotlight and excerpt

• Social Media Exposure: Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Pinterest & Instagram

• A personalised Facebook Event for your book, organised and run by The Coffee Pot Book Club

• 10 Days sidebar advertisement of your book on The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog

• Personalised Tour Banner and personalised artwork for all social media platforms.

Total cost £250.00

​

Must be booked 6 weeks in advance

​

*The number of reviews are not guaranteed.

If you would like to find out more, visit the contact page.

 

Check out #HistoricalFiction author, Rhen Garland's, fabulous book — A PORTRAIT OF DEATH (The Versipellis Mysteries Book 1) #Victorian #Mystery @RhenWitch

A PORTRAIT OF DEATH(The Versipellis Mysteries Book 1)

By Rhen Garland

1899

In the quiet English village of Marmis Parva, a weekend house party is organised by a society hostess…but this is no ordinary soiree.

Renowned Contralto Giselle Du’Lac, society nerve specialist Mr Weatherly Draycott, and young socialite Lady Bunny Ellerbeck are amongst the guests who have been invited to make it the social event of the season, but the weekend ends in horror when two men are savagely murdered during the course of the evening and a young man, presumed dead, returns home after two years’ imprisonment in South Africa, bringing with him proof of treason.

Detective Chief Inspector Elliott Caine’s long-awaited holiday in the Lake District is cancelled as he is brought in to investigate the peculiar nature of the murders. More bodies are discovered and Elliott has to manoeuvre between high society, Government protocols and the sickening nature of the crimes if he and his old friend, Detective Sergeant Abernathy Thorne, are to catch this sadistic killer, and the traitor lurking amongst the honoured guests.

When Caine’s mysterious past comes back to haunt him, will his judgement be too clouded to focus on solving the crime?

Will the Boer spy’s identity be uncovered before they can flee?

How are these murders connected to another in New York?

A Portrait of Death: The Versipellis Mysteries, Book One, is the first in a series of paranormal Victorian murder mysteries, following the supernatural investigations of Elliott Caine, and his associate Abernathy Thorne.

 

Pick up your copy of

A PORTRAIT OF DEATH

Amazon UK • Amazon US

Add to your 'to-read' list

On Goodreads.

 

 

Rhen Garland

Rhen Garland lives in Somerset, England with her folk-singing husband Adam, who is also her book illustrator, and a large Clan of passive-aggressive Tomtes who control the living room.

She is a dedicated reader and movie buff, and has a collection of over 4,000 books, and 3,000 films…no one will play movie quiz games with her anymore.

"I watch far too many old school murder mystery films, TV series, and 1980s action movies for it to be considered healthy."

She has managed Chronic Fatigue Syndrome for the last twelve years and advocates for positivity and understanding.

She enjoys the countryside, peace, New Zealand Pinot Gris, and the works of Ngaio Marsh, Glady Mitchell, John Dickson Carr/Carter Dickson, Agatha Christie, Terry Pratchett, Simon R Green, David and Leigh Eddings, and JRR Tolkien.

A Portrait of Death is the first novel in the Versipellis Mystery Series; Victorian era murder mysteries with a touch of magical realism and a twist of the macabre, that follow the supernatural investigations of Elliott Caine and Abernathy Thorne.

Book two, Death in the Sound, is set in New Zealand in 1900, and was released in December 2019.

Book three, tentatively titled A Shadow of Death, is set on an island off the south coast of England during Christmas 1900, and is currently in the “half-way through, panic, and multiple post-it-notes phase” and should be out in time for Yule 2020.

Connect with Rhen: Website • Twitter • Goodreads • Amazon Author Page.

 

 

Welcome to Day #2 of the blog tour for The Last King #BlogTour #CoffeePotBookClub #TheLastKing @coloursofunison

The Last King: England: The First Viking Age

(The Ninth Century Book 1)

By M J Porter

They sent three hundred warriors to kill one man. It wasn’t enough.

Mercia lies broken but not beaten, her alliance with Wessex in tatters.

Coelwulf, a fierce and bloody warrior, hears whispers that Mercia has been betrayed from his home in the west. He fears no man, especially not the Vikings sent to hunt him down.

To discover the truth of the rumours he hears, Coelwulf must travel to the heart of Mercia, and what he finds there will determine the fate of Mercia, as well as his own.

  

Today we are stopping over at The Writing Desk for a fabulous Author Interview.

Click HERE!

Brenda Whiteside is sharing an excerpt of her fabulous book — Sleeping with the Lights On #Romance #GreatReads @brendawhitesid2

Sleeping with the Lights On

By Brenda Whiteside

A secret admirer, a redheaded stalker, and an eccentric millionaire have thrown Sandra Holiday on a dangerous path.

 

After two failed marriages and countless relationships, Sandra thinks she’s met the man to end her years of less than perfect choices; choices that not only derailed her travel-related career plans, but also left her single and broke.

 

Carson Holiday, a Las Vegas country crooner with swoon-inducing good looks, spent his adult life pursuing a recording contract and love, never holding on to either. After eighteen years, he drops back into Sandra’s life, reigniting an attraction he can’t deny.

 

When Carson reappears, Sandra must choose again. As life confronts her with yet another turning point, will her decisions find her eternally sleeping with the lights on – or will she finally discover a way to turn them off?

 

 

Excerpt

 

“When do you go back to Vegas?”

Carson hesitated. “In a day or two.”

“You sound rather vague.” And still allusive. What could be the big secret about this charity gig he couldn’t divulge?

“I have a few more things to find out. I’ll be out of here as soon as I get all my questions answered. It’s complicated.”

We’d reached the edge of my apartment complex.

“Carson, honestly, how complicated can a gig—”

He pulled me around so we touched, thigh to thigh. My head said run like hell, but my legs wouldn’t respond. Mushy from wine or Carson and moonlight. I couldn’t be sure which.

“Have lunch with me tomorrow, darlin’.” His fingers slipped from mine to gingerly brush along my forearm. The moonlight caught in his eyes. “Another hour of your time with a long-lost friend?”

“Yes.” My voice went all husky and come-hither. I wanted to kick myself for being so easy.

“Good.” Grasping my hand again, he led me toward the door. “What’s the address of your office?”

I struggled to shake off the moon shadows and to remember where I worked. Once inside the building, I took a scrap of paper from my purse and wrote the address.

“I’ll walk you to your door and say goodnight,” he said, tucking the scrap of paper in his pocket. “Unless you want to have me in for a goodnight drink.”

I didn’t answer. If he’d only known the extent of my uncertainty at that moment, a little persistence might have made me cave.

“Okay, then—” His mouth gaped.

I followed his bewildered look to my apartment door and the message scrawled in lipstick.

TRAMP.

Sleeping with the Lights On

is only 0.99 on #Kindle for a *LIMITED TIME!

Amazon UK • Amazon US • Kobo • Barnes and Noble • Google Play • iTunes • Audio

*offer ends July 30th 2020

 

 

Brenda Whiteside

Brenda Whiteside is the author of suspenseful, action-adventure romance. Mostly. After living in six states and two countries—so far—she and her husband have decided they are gypsies at heart, splitting their time between Northern Arizona and the RV life. They share their home with a rescue dog named Amigo. While FDW is fishing, Brenda writes stories of discovery and love entangled with suspense.

 

Connect with Brenda:

Website • Blog • Facebook • Twitter • Instagram • Amazon Author Page • Goodreads • BookBub.