Roxanne Rhoads's Blog, page 177

A Bewitching Monday

Candle Making with Randall Krzak #candlemaking #authorguestblog #artsandcrafts #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/2HED30qxpEf

INTERVIEW - YA FANTASY - THE THORN PRINCESS (Iron Crown Faerie Tales, #1) by Bekah Harris #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/vVxa30qxpFO

Interview- Witch Tease by Cindy Keen Reynders #authorinterview #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/56dh30qxpFB

INTERVIEW - HISTORICAL FANTASY - THE CRIMSON INKWELL (Luella Winthrop Trilogy, #1) by Kenneth A. Baldwin #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/Dysj30qxpFj

Interview- The Thorn Princess by Bekah Harris #authorinterview #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/lFk430qxpFH

Letters to God by Krystal Doolittle #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/kkTo30qwNI1

After the humans go away, the supernaturals play. Welcome to Vehicle City.
New Release: Let’s Talk About Hex by Roxanne Rhoads #eroticshortstories #paranormalerotica #vehiclecityvampires #newrelease #BooksConnectUs #booksinthetimeofcorona #quarantinereads #QuarantineAndChill #letstalkabouthex https://amzn.to/2UXWM2H

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A Bewitching Friday

#BookTour : The Thorn Princess by Bekah Harris #amreading #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/IKJK30qwNJN

Destiny of the Witch The Rise of Orion Series Book Four J. M. Davies #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/BMkH30qwNHJ

Virtual Book Tour: The Crimson Inkwell by Kenneth A. Baldwin #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/pmfh30qwNIf

Destiny of the Witch The Rise of Orion Series Book Four by J. M. Davies - Haunted soul-shifter, Ella Masters’ destiny is to defeat her nemesis, the Morrigan, and save mankind, but since when does destiny ever play fair? #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/6zcS30qwNGZ

Letters to God by Krystal Doolittle #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/kkTo30qwNI1

Destiny of the Witch ~ J. M. Davies #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/x1qh30qwNHt

Poetry Corner with Kenneth A. Baldwin #Poetry #poetrycorner #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/Wu3J30qwy1C

INTERVIEW - PNR - DESTINY OF THE WITCH (Rise of Orion, #4) by J.M. Davies #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/euYY30qwy1a

Interview- Colombian Betrayal by Randall Krzak #authorinterview #bewitchingbooktours https://paranormalists.blogspot.com/2...

After the humans go away, the supernaturals play. Welcome to Vehicle City.
New Release: Let’s Talk About Hex by Roxanne Rhoads #eroticshortstories #paranormalerotica #vehiclecityvampires #newrelease #BooksConnectUs #booksinthetimeofcorona #quarantinereads #QuarantineAndChill #letstalkabouthex https://amzn.to/2UXWM2H

Colombian Betrayal by Randall Krzak
https://www.roxannerhoads.com/2020/04...

The Thorn Princess by Bekah Harris
https://fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com...

The Thorn Princess by Bekah Harris

The Thorn PrincessThe Iron Crown Faerie TalesBook 1 of 6Bekah Harris
Genre: YA Fantasy/FairytalesPublisher: Dreamlake MediaDate of Publication:  March 1, 2019ISBN: 1796394653ASIN: B07NDRHYLCNumber of pages: 268Word Count: 57099
Cover Artist: Ana Bazyl
Tagline: What is Ivy Hawthorne? 
Book Description:
Ivy Hawthorne has always felt like an outsider, but now she is starting to wonder who—and what—she really is.
She can see people’s auras. Animals watch her wherever she goes, and worst of all, sometimes her dreams actually come true.
But recently, things have gone from strange to downright bizarre.
The animals have started following her. Strangers have started watching her. And when she gets angry or upset, inexplicable things are bound to happen.
But the craziest thing of all is the sudden arrival of Barrett Forbes, a mysterious transfer student who finds her fascinating.
The more she gets to know Barrett, the more she learns about the dark truth behind her lonely, isolated childhood. As she digs deeper into her past, Ivy discovers the shocking realities about her lineage and where her destiny lies.
Filled with magic, romance, and mystery, The Thorn Princess is the first book in Bekah Harris’ captivating new series, the Iron Crown Faerie Tales.
Amazon

Excerpt:
Ivy Hawthorne could feel its eyes on her.             An old screech owl was common enough in the mountains. What wasn’t so common was the way it watched her, its huge yellow irises round as saucers, its head moving to follow her figure up the path to the dining hall, where breakfast was already underway.             Ivy had always been good with animals, but sometimes, the way they focused on her was unsettling. Like right now. It was almost seven-thirty. The owl should have been roosting in its nest, settling into sleep for the day. She trudged past the tree where it perched, its downy brown and white feathers puffed out against the cold, as the main buildings of the Kingston Academy campus rose up in the distance. The series of towering stone buildings loomed over her like sinister shadows as the near-hidden sun touched a bleak winter sky. Locked away from the rest of the world, the students who attended the historic boarding school were protected in the safe arms of the campus by a tall iron gate that separated the school from the treacherous mountain terrain and wildlife that surrounded it.  The spindles were too close together for even a child to slide through, and the fence was too tall, slick, and sharp to climb. Which was just how the parents and administrators wanted it. Unless you were a squirrel or bird, there was no going in or out without getting stuck. Or impaled if you managed to climb high enough.The morning was still and quiet. The only sounds were the rattling of naked tree branches and the crunching of Ivy’s boots in the frozen snow. On mornings like this, Ivy resented the school uniform requirement at Kingston. The wind tore through the thin black leggings she wore beneath her pleated skirt, as she readjusted her heavy bag that drooped toward the ground.            The lone owl hooted as Ivy left it behind. Unable to help herself, she turned, stopping to watch it for a moment. Her gaze connected with the owl’s, its wizened expression examining her with a fixation that made her wonder if it could see her future. Or maybe even her past. When she was a little girl, Nan used to tell her stories about birds and other animals that could see into a person’s soul. Nan believed it like gospel, but Ivy had always figured they were just old wives’ tales. Folklore from the superstitious mountains where they lived. But the owl’s penetrating gaze was enough to make her question those beliefs.            Checking her smartwatch, Ivy shook off the eerie feeling and hustled up the path until she reached the sidewalk, which, mercifully, had been shoveled and salted. She stomped the snow from her boots and rushed up the stairs to the dining hall. When she opened the door, the smell of frying bacon and maple syrup filled her senses, as she absently handed her meal card to Rhoda, the cashier who smiled and said “Good morning,” just like any other day.But Ivy’s nerves sloshed in her belly as she approached the dining room. She had dreamed about the dining hall last night. Like any of the places she saw in her dreams, she was wary to enter. Taking a deep breath to calm her irrational anxiety, she stepped into the room and scanned the scattering of round oak-colored tables and chairs.            Most of her classmates weren’t early risers, so in twenty minutes, they would be scrambling from their beds and rushing to their eight a.m. classes. But Ivy usually woke up early after a night of tossing and turning between restless dreams, which had been the case that morning. The dreams were becoming more frequent lately, just like her animal sightings. This morning it had been an owl. Yesterday, she had seen a cardinal, which wasn’t altogether strange. But the way it had flitted behind her from tree to tree until she had walked inside had been odd. A few minutes later, it had perched in the windowsill of her lit class, peeking inside.             “There you are!” Jules McKinnon, Ivy’s best friend since the early years at Kingston, waved at her from their usual table. She gestured to the untouched plate in front of the empty seat beside her. She had piled on French toast sticks, honey, and apple slices. Ivy’s favorite. Just as her stomach growled, she stopped short, examining Jules. Her textured black pixie was sticking out in all directions this morning, rather than being swept softly to the side. Oh, no.If Jules had actually made the effort to fix her hair, then she’d been up for more than the ten minutes it took to throw on her uniform, brush her teeth, and walk to the dining hall. Which also probably meant she’d been up for hours and hadn’t been tempted to hit snooze five times. It meant she had been wide awake and obsessing over something.Ivy focused, narrowing her eyes in an effort to see Jules’ aura, a fuzzy light that emanated from most people in a variety of colors determined by their emotions. Ivy had possessed the strange ability for as long as she could remember, though it wasn’t something she advertised. Sure enough, Jules’s aura glowed in a dark yellow halo that shone from her head and shoulders. She was worried. Probably about her grades. Ivy learned a long time ago that, as smart as Jules was, she would always freak out over tests, quizzes, grades, and her GPA. All the women in her family had gone on to Hollins University, and Jules was determined to get in, too, even if it caused her to have a nervous breakdown in the process.“I thought you were never going to get here. I fell asleep studying last night like a narcoleptic dumbass and am now doomed to fail Crenshaw’s lit quiz this morning. Thank God I woke up at four. Anyway, you’re good at all this poetry crap. Tell me…” She looked down at her notes. “What are the underlying Romantic elements of the Lady of Shallot?”“First of all, it’s Shalott,” Ivy said. “Shallots are a type of onion.”She dunked a piece of French toast in honey, chewing while Jules went into full-on panic mode. “Oh my God, I am so screwed. I thought last year’s phi lit class was awful. But this semester? British Poets? Just kill me!  Crenshaw is going to see to it that my four-point-oh is a pleasant dream of the past, achieved and maintained for ten years but snatched away in an undignified attempt to interpret poetry.”“Dramatic much?” “Not cool, Ivy. Can’t you see I’m desperate? Why couldn’t this be calculus? I get math.”“Poetry is mathematical,” Ivy said. “It’s about structure and pattern, rhyme, meter, and rhythm. Anyway, stop freaking out. Just remember that the Romantic philosophies of the day were about…”Ivy lost her train of thought. Her stomach cramped and twisted as he walked in. The boy from the dream. She watched him as he moved past her with a confident gait and sat at the fourth table from the coffee bar. Just as she had dreamed. Ivy blinked, shaking her head. She tried to look away but couldn’t.“About…?” Jules glared impatiently until she followed the direction of Ivy’s stare. “Ah. I see you’ve discovered Kingston’s latest flavor of eye candy.” The boy was tall and thin, but lean, not skinny. He looked completely out of place in the required gray blazer and khaki pants. With skin the color of porcelain and dark black-blue hair, he looked more like a leather jacket sort of guy than a prep school student. His aura glowed from him in a soft red. Confidence. Strength. It took a lot of concentration, but Ivy had been seeing auras since she was a small child. Nan called it “the sight” and had taught her how to read them. Had taught her never to tell anyone that she could see them.
Just like he had in the dream, the boy was surrounded by a red glow as he sat down. Her dreams always seemed so real, and when she woke, Ivy always had a sense that she had been to a different time or a different reality. But she didn’t often stare down her dreams in the daylight.

About the Author:
Born and raised in the mountains of East Tennessee, Bekah Harris has been writing since she could hold a pencil. The beauty of her home in the Appalachian Mountains, along with the legends, myths, and folklore of that area, is what inspires the unique plots and settings captured in her young adult fiction. In addition to her love of all things fictional, Bekah is also a freelance writer and editor, as well as a high school English teacher. When not working, Bekah can be found at home making art with her son, as well as drinking coffee and watching Netflix with her husband.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/bekahharrisbook
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bekahharrisauthor
Website: https://bekahharris.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bekahharrisauthor/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17157949.Bekah_Harris

A Bewitching Thursday

Poetry Corner with Kenneth A. Baldwin #Poetry #poetrycorner #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/Wu3J30qwy1C

INTERVIEW - PNR - DESTINY OF THE WITCH (Rise of Orion, #4) by J.M. Davies #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/euYY30qwy1a

Interview- Colombian Betrayal by Randall Krzak #authorinterview #bewitchingbooktours https://paranormalists.blogspot.com/2...

The Thorn Princess Book Tour! SPOTLIGHT #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/WF4j30qwy2P

Letters to God by Krystal Doolittle Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/3iq330qwy1o

Book Spotlight & #Giveaway ~ Destiny of the Witch (The Rise of Orion Series, Book Four) by J. M. Davies ~ @jendaviesuk ~ Paranormal Romance #PNR #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/Gkk230qwy0W

The Thorn Princess by Bekah Harris #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/Quqg30qwy2j

Blog Tour & Giveaway: Destiny of the Witch (The Rise of Orion Book 4) by J.M. Davies #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/gzij30qwy0P

After the humans go away, the supernaturals play. Welcome to Vehicle City.
New Release: Let’s Talk About Hex by Roxanne Rhoads #eroticshortstories #paranormalerotica #vehiclecityvampires #newrelease #BooksConnectUs #booksinthetimeofcorona #quarantinereads #QuarantineAndChill #letstalkabouthex https://amzn.to/2UXWM2H

A Bewitching Wednesday

In the Kitchen with J. M. Davies - Recipe for Welsh Cakes #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/JlR430qwgsP

#BookTour : The Crimson Inkwell by Kenneth A Baldwin #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/DqRE30qwgtV

INTERVIEW - SPIRITUAL - LETTERS TO GOD by Krystal Doolittle https://thebookjunkiereadspromos.blog...

INTERVIEW WITH J.M. DAVIES (Destiny of the Witch)
https://supernaturalcentral.blogspot....

Interview - The Crimson Inkwell by Kenneth A. Baldwin
https://paranormalists.blogspot.com/2...

Feature Spotlight ~ THE THORN PRINCESS by Bekah Harris
https://readyourwrites.blogspot.com/2...

After the humans go away, the supernaturals play. Welcome to Vehicle City.
New Release: Let’s Talk About Hex by Roxanne Rhoads #eroticshortstories #paranormalerotica #vehiclecityvampires #newrelease #BooksConnectUs #booksinthetimeofcorona #quarantinereads #QuarantineAndChill #letstalkabouthex https://amzn.to/2UXWM2H


Destiny of the Witch by J. M. Davies #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/EnIT30qwgtf

Introducing AJ Bruce from Colombian Betrayal by Randall Krzak #characterinterview
https://fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com...

The Crimson Inkwell by Kenneth A. Baldwin
https://www.roxannerhoads.com/2020/04...

Introducing AJ Bruce from Colombian Betrayal by Randall Krzak #characterinterview

Today, I’d like to introduce you to AJ Bruce, one of the stars of Colombian Betrayal: A Bruce & Smith Thriller-Book One. She’s a no-nonsense type of character, not afraid to share her thoughts, but at the same time, doesn’t go out of her way to rock the boat unless she feels there’s a need to do so. We don’t know much about her life before she began working with the CIA. Information about her background will be revealed in the sequel, Revenge: A Bruce & Smith Thriller-Book Two.
“So, AJ, how did you end up working for the CIA?”She shrugged. “I’m somewhat following in my father’s footsteps. He was an ambassador in two countries. I decided to avoid the State Department as I didn’t want any hint of favoritism, and applied to the CIA. After I was accepted, I went through the normal training regime for a field officer.”“Tell us a bit about yourself, if you don’t mind sharing.”“Sure. There are a few things I can share without breaking any laws or regulations. First, I love coffee! Hot, black, and strong! Second, I can be a bit impatient. Nothing drives me crazier than trying to get from point A to point B and traffic slows me down. Third—I thrive on the thrill of field operations.”“I understand you normally work alone during field operations, utilizing whatever support might be needed, but only when necessary. How did you feel about having Colonel Javier Smith shoved on you by your boss, Lintstone?”“Lintstone can be a bit of a jerk. I voiced my opinion, but he told me I had no choice. As it turned out, Javier and I worked well together, our skills complimenting each other when needed, to ensure successful completion of our anti-terrorism mission. As an added bonus, we even rescued two kidnapped girls and returned them to their family.”“Is there any chemistry between you and Javier?”“He’s certainly not hard on the eyes. We’ve had our brief moments, but we’re both concentrating on our careers. Who knows what will happen in the future?” AJ laughed. “Watch this space.”“What do you have planned next? With the termination of Lintstone and being named as his replacement I’m trying to make the adjustment from part-time headquarters/part-time field agent to being fulltime at headquarters. Definitely a challenge to leading from a distance, rather than being in the middle of the action. If this doesn’t work out, Javier is cooking up a possible solution with his idea of an investigative agency taking on international cases. That’s all I can share at the moment. You’ll have to wait for the release of Revenge to find out more.”“Good luck in your future endeavors, and thank you for spending some time with us.”



Colombian Betrayal
A Bruce and Smith Thriller
Book One
Randall Krzak

Genre: action-adventure thriller, political thriller, suspense thriller
Publisher: Randall Krzak Books
Date of Publication: March 30, 2020 (Kindle)

ISBN: 0978944100
ISBN-13: 978-0978944100
ASIN: B0854CFJTV
Number of pages:  330Word Count: 82,039
Cover Artist: Matt at www.darngoodcovers.com
Tagline:  Colombian Betrayal exposes the death and violence behind the entangled interactions between governments, revolutionaries, terrorists, and drug lords.
Book Description: 
Colombian Betrayal tears the cover off the drug trade and exposes the death, and violence behind the twisted connections between governments, revolutionaries, terrorists, and drug lords.
Watch as an unholy alliance is formed when the profits of a Columbian drug lord Olivia Moreno, begin disappearing and deadly new international competitors appear on the horizon.
Moreno, head of the Barranquilla Cartel, strikes a deal with the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC). Little does she know she is signing her own death warrant! FARC has a group wanting a foothold in South America—the Islamic State, and she is in the way.
On the run, Moreno is captured by a CIA team. She spins a tale to use her money and manpower to destroy ISIS in an effort to save herself. Laws and rules of engagement are meaningless to Moreno, her life and her family are her only concern. Will the CIA leader fall for her offer?
Will team leader AJ Bruce strike a deal to turn the tables on Islamic State? Can she stop them from launching an attack on the United States? Or will she be too late?
Is it worth trading control of Afghanistan’s poppy fields with Moreno as a reward for her cooperation? Or is Bruce playing her in an attempt to double-cross her and kill two birds with one stone?
Get your copy today, and watch this high stakes game of kill or be killed.
Amazon     Amazon AU     Amazon CA     Amazon UK
Excerpt  2 (947 words)
AJ Bruce weaved through heavy traffic on the Capital Beltway. She alternated between leaning on the horn and cursing at slower motorists.“Late again. I don’t need this!” She slammed a hand on the steering wheel of her gunmetal gray Honda Pilot. “Boss is gonna kill me.”She slipped to the right around a banged-up clunker, her vehicle bouncing on the rough shoulder. AJ spotted her exit and sped along the edge of the freeway and flew down the ramp. She raced through a red light and whipped her vehicle toward the security checkpoint at the CIA facility in Langley, skidding to a halt at the end of a line of cars waiting for access.“C’mon, c’mon!” AJ urged the cars in front to move faster. At last, her turn came. She flashed her badge at the sensor and shot past the barricade. She grabbed a pass from the console, flung the placard on the dash, jumped out of her car, and raced inside.Once through the turnstile, she rushed to the elevator, the one-inch heels of her black leather shoes clicking on the tiled floor. Two minutes later, AJ waltzed into her section and made her way to the boss’s office, stopping at a kiosk on the way for a cup of black coffee.“AJ, so glad you could join us today.” Robert Lintstone, head of the counter-terrorism division responsible for tracking terrorists in Latin America, sneered as he half-bowed and waved her to a seat. “What’s your excuse this time?”Prick. As if I’d tell him in front of others. He’s always talking about the need to know. Staying out all night after the class reunion is my own business. Flicking her long, brown hair, AJ slid into a chair and glanced around the table. Four of her staff occupied seats, with empty coffee mugs in front of them. Within easy reach, notepads were covered with several lines of writing. Damn! I’m really late—wonder what they already covered? She tried to sneak a peek at the pad nearest her. The person smiled and turned it so she could read.A stranger with black hair in a military cut, piercing green eyes, and olive complexion sat opposite her. Silver eagles of a full colonel adorned the epaulets of his uniform. His nametag read Smith.Lintstone rubbed a hand through his thinning gray hair and cleared his throat. “There are indications the Islamic State is attempting to gain a foothold in our territory. They’ve already infiltrated a number of countries around the world. We’re trying to ascertain the validity of the intel before we make a move.”“What’s the source?” AJ scribbled on a notepad while her boss spoke.“Two sensitive contacts, both unconfirmed. One reported Islamic State purchased an old freighter from an Iranian corporation through a cutout. They’re using the Liberian-flagged ship as a floating command post. The other stated IS training camps are being set up in Colombia and Panama.” He shook his head before peering at them through thick glasses. “It might be a smart move on their part since no one would believe they had willing conscripts in these countries.”Lintstone pounded a fist on his desk. The civilians flinched. “Dammit, people! We need collaborative intel. Fast! Someone check with NSA and Homeland Security. Find out if they can help. Call State as well, but I doubt they’ll be of any use.”A tall, thin man with receding gray hair vaulted from his chair. “On it, sir.” He hurried from the room before Lintstone added any further instructions.“Contact the British and the Canadians, too. Perhaps they’ll share with us, although there’ll be a quid pro quo.”A bald man, on the heavy side, lumbered to his feet with the use of a cane. “Will do, chief.”“Don’t offer any more than necessary.”“Yes, sir.” The man limped through the doorway, banging the door shut behind him.Lintstone glared at two women sitting at the end of the table. “Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation? Back to your computers and analyze. Contact NGA—see if the geospatial folks know more than they’ve shared. Find me something—anything to point us in the right direction.”The women nodded and left.“What about us, boss?” AJ gestured toward the colonel to include him in her question.“This is Colonel Javier Smith, First Special Forces Operational Detachment. He’s here as an advisor. Colonel, meet AJ Bruce, my troubleshooter.”AJ gazed at the colonel. “So you’re Delta Force?”“Yes, but I’m not just here to advise.” He glanced at Lintstone. “This will be my last time in the field before taking up a new assignment at the Pentagon. That’s why I’m in uniform today. I met with my new commander earlier, and he’s a stickler for proper military etiquette and attire. Didn’t have time to change before this meeting.”Both stood and walked around the table to shake hands. The colonel dwarfed AJ’s five-foot-ten-inch frame by six inches. AJ noted a thin scar running from his left ear to his chin. After a firm squeeze, both returned to their seats.“You’ll be working togeth—”AJ pursed her lips. “Sir, I work alone.” Oh great. Just what I need—a special forces guerrilla tagging along. But, least he’s cute.“Not this time. Orders from above.”“Don’t worry, AJ, you won’t slow me down.” His bass voice resonating, Colonel Smith smiled.“Excuse me, Colonel, I don’t want you to be in my way.” AJ crossed her arms. A frown etched her face.“You two finished?” Lintstone glanced at both of them. “Good. You’re working together—no debate.”
“Yes, boss.” AJ dragged the words out.

About the Author:
Randall Krzak is a U.S. Army veteran and retired senior civil servant, spending thirty years in Europe, Africa, Central America, and the Middle East. His residency abroad qualifies him to build rich worlds in his action-adventure novels and short stories. Familiar with customs, laws, and social norms, he promotes these to create authentic characters and scenery.

His first novel, The Kurdish Connection, was published in 2017, and the sequel, Dangerous Alliance, was released in November2018. Both placed in the 2018 Global Thriller Book Awards sponsored by Chanticleer International Book Awards, with The Kurdish Connection finishing as a semi-finalist and Dangerous Alliance being selected as one of seven first in category winners. The third novel in the series, Carnage in Singapore, was released in August 2019, and is currently a semi-finalist in the 2019 Chanticleer International Book Awards. He also penned "A Dangerous Occupation," a winning entry in the August 2016Wild Sound Writing and Film Festival Review short story category.

He holds a Bachelor of Science degree from the University of Maryland and a general Master in Business Administration (MBA) and a MBA with an emphasis in Strategic Focus, both from Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh, Scotland. He currently resides with his wife, Sylvia, and six cats in Dunfermline, Scotland. He's originally from Michigan, while Sylvia is a proud Scot. In addition to writing, he enjoys hiking, reading, candle making, pyrography, and sightseeing.

Website: www.randallkrzak.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/rjkrzak
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/randallkrzak/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100011369255833


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A Bewitching Tuesday

Interview - The Crimson Inkwell by Kenneth A. Baldwin #bewitchingbooktours
https://paranormalists.blogspot.com/2...

INTERVIEW WITH J.M. DAVIES (Destiny of the Witch)
https://supernaturalcentral.blogspot....

INTERVIEW - SPIRITUAL - LETTERS TO GOD by Krystal Doolittle https://thebookjunkiereadspromos.blog...

The Thorn Princess The Iron Crown Faerie Tales Book 1 of 6 Bekah Harris #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/wTdH50z7vBV

Colombian Betrayal by Randall Krzak
http://roxannerhoads.booklikes.com/po...

After the humans go away, the supernaturals play. Welcome to Vehicle City.
New Release: Let’s Talk About Hex by Roxanne Rhoads #eroticshortstories #paranormalerotica #vehiclecityvampires #newrelease #BooksConnectUs #booksinthetimeofcorona #quarantinereads #QuarantineAndChill #letstalkabouthex https://amzn.to/2UXWM2H

Exclusive Excerpt The Crimson Inkwell by Kenneth A. Baldwin
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A Bewitching Monday

Interview - Destiny of the Witch by J. M. Davies #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/ivYE50z6gCr

Virtual Book Tour: The Thorn Princess by Bekah Harris #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/lXdB50z6g
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Colombian Betrayal by Randall Krzak
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LOVE SPELL in LONDON by SHEREEN VEDAM #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/axJf50z6gGQ

The Thorn Princess The Iron Crown Faerie Tales Book 1 of 6 Bekah Harris #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/ABWD50z6gT6

Love Spell in London by Shereen Vedam Book Tour & Giveaway #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/t3C950z6gN3

Virtual Book Tour: Letters to God by Krystal Doolittle #bewitchingbooktours
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Love Spell in London by Shereen Vedam #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/hr3d50z6gLs

DESTINY OF THE WITCH BY J.M. DAVIES - BOOK TOUR + GIVEAWAY #bewitchingbooktours http://ow.ly/1iLv50z6gBh

Music Playlist for The Crimson Inkwell by Kenneth A. Baldwin
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After the humans go away, the supernaturals play. Welcome to Vehicle City.
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Music Playlist for The Crimson Inkwell by Kenneth A. Baldwin

I strongly believe in the power of music to unlock memory and inspiration. Because of that, I love reading and writing with an earbud in, so long as it isn’t too distracting!

Luella Winthrop, the protagonist in The Crimson Inkwell has a sharp wit, but she comes from a poor area of her city in England. Throughout her adventure, she discovers great mysteries about the world around her and herself. I made a playlist that really helped me hone in on certain key scenes in the book. I won’t divulge some of them because of spoilers, but if you read the book alongside this playlist, I could certainly see it augmenting the experience. 



1. Discombobulate by Hans Zimmer

This is the main musical theme of Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes films. I listened to a Masterclass given by Hans Zimmer on how he developed the theme, and he decided to veer away from the usual musical approach to a Sherlock Holmes story. Instead, he found a wealth of musical tradition in gypsy culture and used that. I think this track does a great job at painting the town of Dawnhurst-on-Severn, the setting for The Crimson Inkwell.

2. Impossible Opening by Jan A.P Kaczmarek

The music from Finding Neverland has always inspired me. It got me through a tough time in my life. This song represents a great blend of anticipation, wonder, and energy that come with embarking on a new journey. It reminds me a bit of the multi-faceted Dawnhurst Police Force and its eclectic cast of characters. In particular, I think this song pairs well with Luella’s first trip to the police station.

3. Liz On Top of the World by Dario Marianelli

Dario Marianelli is a genius. His score for Pride and Prejudice changed my life. I found great inspiration for Luella Winthrop by the feelings in that music. This song, in particular, is a marvelous backdrop to the bittersweet sensation of victory at a cost.

4. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Op. 21: Overture by Felix Mendelssohn

The carnival parked on the east side of Dawnhurst is a wonderful and mysterious place. For Luella, it takes on a deeper meaning as she explores its sideshows and illusions. There are many songs that helped inspire those scenes, especially the middle of this one, where it really ramps up into a showy and vivacious passage. 

5. The Magic Lab by Benoit Groulx

This mysterious, eery number from the soundtrack of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell’s TV adaptation makes me think of Bram’s yurt and some of Luella’s dreams. It’s a manifestation of the darker side of ambition.

6. The Rocky Road to Dublin by CaraNua

This is an old folk song, and I love the driving feeling this arrangement offers. It’s a perfect rising action song, as to me, it feels like something to roll up the sleeves to and dive into some hard, unusual work.   

7. Harry & Hermione by Nicholas Hooper

This is one of my favorite musical motifs from the Harry Potter films. It is hauntingly melancholy, a perfect song for those difficulties that feel as though no solution could ever be possible. Luella has a few of those.

8. The Price of a Good Trick by David Julyan

In my opinion, The Prestige is Christopher Nolan’s masterpiece. This song, or soundscape rather, is foreboding and final all at once. I hear it when Luella discovers her own missteps and their inevitable consequences.

9. Saman by Ólafur Arnalds

Bittersweet and beautiful. This song has always given me a feeling of benevolent peace. I won’t say what scene it reminds me of from the book, but I hope you can find it.

10. Happiness by Jónsi and Alex Somers

This is more of a sound environment than a song, but it reminds me that there is magic out there. And, not all magic is evil. Some magic gently nudges us in the right direction on whatever pathway comes next.

I hope you enjoy this music as much as I do! If you read through The Crimson Inkwell and are reminded of some other songs, I’d be very happy to hear about it. Drop me a message on Instagram or shoot me a line at kenny@eburneanbooks.com

Thanks to the Fangtastic Blog for having me as a guest post!




The Crimson Inkwell
The Luella Winthrop Trilogy
Book One
Kenneth A. Baldwin

Genre: Gaslamp Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
Publisher: Eburnean Books
Date of Publication: May 8th, 2019

ISBN: 1095674749ASIN: B07Q76QYMWNumber of pages: 277Word Count: 97,000Cover Artist: Vikncharlie
Tagline: A Gaslamp Fantasy Novel
The Crimson Inkwell is a story about journalist Luella Winthrop. In her journey to become Dawnhurst-on-Severn's most acclaimed writer, she discovers that her city houses dark, magical secrets too uncomfortable to believe.
When an enigmatic carnival worker offers her a pen that can turn fiction to fact, she quickly learns that tampering with the unknown can be intoxicating, lucrative, and dangerous.
Book Description:
Magic exists where we cannot see.
It lives in unexplained phenomena, in attraction to strangers, in a pen and crimson inkwell, from a trunk, in a tent, at a fair, in the fog.
I didn't believe in magic.
Before he died, my father taught me the world was solid. Reporting was more like science, anyway. Hard facts. Logical inferences. Of course, I wasn't exactly an award-winning reporter so what did I know about it? But, when Detective Edward Thomas told me he had seen a phantom, something woke up inside of me. I could have tried to dismiss it as a trick of the lamplight, but how else could I explain the body on the cobblestones?
Instead, I simply believed him, and not just because he was arrestingly handsome. I was engaged, after all, to a sensible, though older man--the same man who published my articles, in fact.
No. I believed him because somewhere, deep down, I knew magic was real. What's worse, I knew it was a part of me. The detective's ghost story had just woken me up.
As soon as I accepted this truth, everything changed. My writing career, my family, my domestic prospects, and my freedom.
What woman, pray tell, can fit three men and a writing career in her life and still keep her sanity?
But there I landed.
Byron was my fiancé. He was sensible. He could provide a modest life of means for my sister and me. He could also continue to publish my little articles in his weekly magazine. He adored me.
Edward was my detective, so good and true, straight as an arrow and noble as a knight. He inspired me to be something more. But, I could never live up to such a high standard.
Bram was a mystery. Who could say where his life had taken him before he met me or what adventures he had endured. Everything he did was curious. I was drawn to him in ways I didn't understand.
Could I escape this journey with my engagement intact? Which course would lead me down a road to the woman my father always believed I should be?
And why did I feel so angry all the time?
My fingers still have that enchanted twitch even as I peck these words out on an old typewriter. Before another episode comes, let me tell you what happened that fateful autumn in Dawnhurst-on-Severn. . .
Amazon
Excerpt:
“Excuse me,” I said, after clearing my throat. “Who’s missing?” The clerk didn’t look up.“I beg your pardon?”“Missing persons will file with Ms. Turner down the hall.”“I’m not here to report a missing person,” I replied. This was enough to give the clerk at least a moment’s pause. He glanced his terrier of a face up at me and squinted one eye in the lamplight. “Has your husband beat you?”“I’m not married. I’m looking for Sergeant George Cooper.”“Sarge, you’ve got a visitor!” he bellowed down the hallway behind him before turning back to me. “Right down the hallway, Miss. He’ll be happy to have a visitor that isn’t a felon. I guess, assuming you’re not here to turn yourself in… You aren’t uh, you know, soliciting wares and suddenly discovered religion if you catch my meaning?”This I did not grace with a verbal response. Instead, I leveled my eyes at him the way I used to as governess of an impish child, took off my gloves menacingly, and started down the hall. “Please have a seat,” said whom I presumed to be the Ms. Turner the clerk had mentioned. She wore a tweed skirt and vest, and her hair was done up into what was once a bun. She too was busy in paperwork, pounding away furiously at a typewriter. I brushed off a filthy chair and waited. I watched Ms. Turner for some time, wondering what pathway may have brought her to this desk. She appeared older than me. It’s difficult to guess the age of women around the middle of their lives, but the gentle lines around her eyes hinted to me that she was now closer to forty than thirty. I noticed no wedding ring.I felt an almost immediate kinship to Ms. Turner. It wasn’t a large stretch to imagine that I was looking at myself in ten years, pounding away at a typewriter, perhaps trying to publish works of my own in my spare time outside of my professional duties.I have Byron now. I had to remind myself about my fiancé so often. How silly. Even when I was here on his bidding, for his publication no less.“I wasn’t drinking on the job, sir!” I heard a man’s raised voice through the sergeant’s door. Ms. Turner slowly looked up at me. “They all say that.”The door swung wide open, and I was struck by what I could only assume was the model for a police force figurine. The man had an acutely trim waistline that stretched up into a broad chest and shoulders. His hair was combed impeccably, as if each strand dared not stray from its assigned position. His eyes, alert and lively, were peculiarly warm for being steely grey. His brow furrowed, and his neatly trimmed policeman’s mustache curved downward into a disconcerting frown. He swept through the office door and stood erect, as though he was at a self-called attention. Behind him, the large Sergeant George Cooper, a man whom I could only describe as a younger, meaner looking Father Christmas, filled the doorway.“I don’t want outlandish stories, Lieutenant. I want arrests. I want brigands behind bars. I want young do-it-alls like you to stop trying to turn every little case into the next apocalypse,” Sergeant Cooper stammered. He was only mostly red in the face.The young lieutenant stood and, though he looked thoroughly unamused, took the tongue lashing admirably.“You’ve got a visitor,” butted in Ms. Turner. Sergeant Cooper looked at me, and his expression instantly melted into a rehearsed sympathy. “Ma’am, my deepest apologies,” he said, putting his hand on his heart. “Do you have a missing person to report?”“No,” I stuttered. “I’m here… do you get a lot of missing persons?”“Most of the women we see in here are reporting a missing husband or, regrettably, a missing child,” he replied. “I’m sorry to hear that. But, and, well, I’m not sure how to put this exactly. I’m here from Langley’s Miscellany, and I—”Before I could finish my sentence, the warm expression on Sergeant Cooper’s face melted away. “You’re a reporter. Thank you, Miss, but the door’s over there.” He turned and retreated back into his office. I stuck my foot in the door, which was more painful than I thought it might be.“I don’t want to be a bother. I’m just curious about the latest. I don’t mean to fabricate anything or inflate your efforts. I just—”“You just want to be first to know about the dreadful muck the police force deals with each day.”“Well, yes,” I replied.“Like I said, Miss, the door is over there. I have a lot to do.” He put on a pair of spectacles and sat down at his desk. I felt a burn creep up my cheeks. It was one thing to be denied, another to be rejected right in front of a woman I had suddenly come to admire and a deeply handsome police lieutenant. The propriety!“Please, you knew my father,” I said. He looked up at me over his spectacles. They were comically small for his large face. “Gerald Winthrop.”“Jerry Winthrop?” the sergeant said with a laugh. “Devils blind me. You were the scrap of a thing always hiding in the corner, thinking we couldn’t see you.” I nodded. He barked out a triumphant laugh.“Your father was a hell of a man! Always sticking his nose in places it didn’t belong. Any mate of his in trouble, he’d be here before a spit trying to talk their way out it.” He stared into the air as if he could see my father in the office presently. “How is Jerry doing? I got into more arguments with him. He could take a yelling and deal it out in turn. If only my lieutenants had half the backbone. We exchanged words like lads in a fistfight.”“Well, I hope you got the last word in then,” I said. His countenance dropped sharply. “You don’t mean—how’d it happen?”“Fever. Or something like that. I never did get a straight answer from the doctors.” I hated doctors. A fair majority of them might as well be bunkmates with critics.“Doctors are thieves,” the sergeant said.“I’m very sorry for your loss, Miss,” said a clear voice behind me. They were the first words the lieutenant said to me. The purity in his voice took me off guard. After losing my father, I’d heard “I’m sorry for your loss” time and time again. In nearly every case, it was mere etiquette, obligation, and passing fancy, as though someone might check a box of a tidy little list somewhere by saying the appropriate thing. This man, whom I barely knew, sounded arrestingly sincere. I turned toward him, and he bowed slightly. Behind him, Ms. Turner slid into focus with two very inquisitive eyebrows.“Yes, well, this is Lieutenant Edward Thomas. He’s our resident… bleeding heart and imaginist,” Sergeant Cooper said. Edward extended a hand.“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” I said. His eyes were smothering. I couldn’t seem to escape them. He had no shyness about looking a stranger squarely in the face, that’s for certain.“The pleasure is mine,” I managed. “Imaginist?” I inquired of the sergeant.“No doubt in it. In fact, Lieutenant Thomas may be exactly what you’re looking for,” he said with a coy smile. “I’m engaged,” I spit out.Sergeant Cooper erupted into an ungraciously loud belly laugh. I noticed Ms. Turner turn her face down to suppress a giggle as well. Edward flushed.“I’m sure you are. I meant for the stories you’ve been looking for,” Cooper said. I immediately felt feverish as itchy perspiration appeared on the small of my back. Luella Winthrop. Gift with words, I have.“He has a story for me then?” I muttered, eager to move on.
“Aye. Lieutenant Thomas here claims to have seen a ghost!”

About the Author:
Kenneth A. Baldwin loves stories you can sink your teeth into.
He lives nestled under the Wasatch Mountain Range with his wife and dog. He writes historical fantasy. When he's not working on his next book, he can be found teaching story mechanics or sketch comedy writing.
Kenny has worked as a staff writer for TV, Radio, web, and comedy scripts for years. The Crimson Inkwell is his first published novel.
https://www.instagram.com/kennethabaldwin/
https://twitter.com/kennethabaldwin
https://www.youtube.com/insteadofwriting

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New Release: Let’s Talk About Hex Erotic Short Stories from the World of the Vehicle City Vampires by Roxanne Rhoads

Let’s Talk About Hex
Erotic Short Stories from the World of the Vehicle City Vampires
Roxanne Rhoads

Genre: Paranormal Erotica

Publisher: Bewitching Books

Book Description:

After the humans go away, the supernaturals play. 

Welcome to Vehicle City.

Let’s Talk About Hex features sixteen erotic short stories set in the world of the Vehicle City Vampires, including two brand new, never before published stories.


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