D.E. Haggerty's Blog, page 67
September 23, 2016
Spotlight on Toni Williams, author of Between Two Fires #mystery
Book title: Between Two Fires
Series: Dread Desires, Book One of a trilogy
Author: Toni Williams
Genre: Mystery
Published: February 15, 2016
Synopsis:
Rudy Phillips is the sort of guy who walks into a room and catches every female eye. He has a mesmerizing charm that women can’t resist. Bridget Tennyson, a stunningly gorgeous American is the latest chick he’s got his sights set on. However, she’s not the kind of woman Rudy is used to chasing. She’s a professional stockbroker and owns a highly successful stock-trading firm on an exclusive Caribbean island catering to the superrich. She’s also married to the famous British nobleman, Lord Edward Tennyson. Bridget is crazy about Rudy even though she’s aware that they come from completely different worlds. Rudy feels the same way about her. What’s more, never before has he found the forbidden so alluring. The big question is, can Rudy who is used to having women eating out of his hand, handle a woman like Bridget who is independent-minded, calculating and ambitious? They both know that if they slip up and Bridget’s husband discovers what’s going down, all hell will break loose but it’s a chance they’re willing to take.
Buy links:
Amazon ~ Smashwords ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunes ~ Overdrive ~ Goodreads
Teaser:
It took some nifty planning but at long last Rudy and his lover, the superrich and gorgeous Lady Tennyson, can be together again to reignite their affair. But it could have been so much better if her husband had not been in the way. Only a man blinded by passion and hopelessly seduced by the lure of the forbidden would dare to enter a lion’s den to try and steal its mate. Betrayal seems the only way out of this dilemma but it could spell disaster.
Author bio:
Born in Saint Lucia, Toni Williams has lived most of his life in the Caribbean. He’s a journalist and former newspaper editor, and a Reuters Fellow (Green Templeton College, Oxford University). Presently, he does mostly freelancing, including editing the St. Lucia young entrepreneur magazine, Dazzle. He’s finally pursing his lifelong dream of becoming a fiction author. He blogs at Caribbean Book Blog, which provides updates on new books and writers, and the latest developments in the global publishing industry.
Author links:
September 22, 2016
Looking for a new #cozymystery? Look no further! Read an #excerpt of A Bull by the Horns from @CoffmanCozies
Book title: A Bull by the Horns
Series: A Coffman Country Art Colony Cozy
Author: Deb Donahue
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Published: August, 2016
Synopsis:
Murder mysteries solved by mystery writers are boring. Mystery writers who are murder suspects—much more interesting. Especially if a poet, composer, artist and irascible old farmer have just as much motive and are equally annoying.
A Bull by the Horns is the first novel in the Coffman Country Art Colony series. Protagonist Carina Coffman has worked hard to fulfill her grandmother’s dream of turning the family farm into an artist’s retreat. She thought the only obstacles she had left to deal with were a disgruntled neighbor unhappy with her new venture, and training Larry the goat to stop head-butting his companions Curly and Moe. When a guest ends up impaled by the longhorn of Ferdinand the taxidermied bull, however, she has her work cut out for her.
Grab a copy!
Amazon Print ~ Amazon Kindle ~ Barnes & Noble ebook ~ Kobo ebook
Excerpt:
“Mark my words, Carina Coffman. You’ll regret this day.” Bill Osterhagen’s finger jabbed at my face like he wanted to poke my eyes out. “Your grandfather would be turning over in his grave.” The sunlight reflected off his white hair with an almost blinding glare.
“Well, my grandmother would be proud of me. She wanted to turn this farm into an art colony for years and you know it.”
We were arguing in front of the barn. Trixie and Leonard barked anxiously beside us. With hands fisted on my hips and my jaw tight, I probably looked like a ten-year-old having a tantrum. Except Bill was the one kicking and screaming.
“The county board should have listened to me when you first came up with this wack-a-doodle idea.” Bill had put his trigger finger away but he still leaned toward me in a tense stance. He spit chewing tobacco out of the side of his mouth and used his hankie to wipe the dribble off his face. “These artsy-fartsy city slickers got no respect for decent folk. Fern told me about that Homer fella calling last minute and pushing his way in here. And I’m telling you that’s just the first sign of disrespect we’ll be putting up with.”
“It’s Horatio, Bill, not Homer. Horatio Herschel.” The harsh rumble of the lawn mower on the other side of the farmhouse matched my mood. “A renowned literary writer with a Pulitzer Prize. His Flight of the Ferryman is studied at Ivy League colleges around the country.”
“I don’t give a donkey’s fart how many prizes he won. I know for a fact the man never sticks his nose out in public no more. Tell me why that’s true ’less he’s got something to hide. What we want with shady characters like that living in our backyard?”
The hens were squawking, the goats bleating, and our Ayrshire milk cow Callie bawled out a mournful-sounding moo. If our first guest arrived during this chaos, Coffman’s Country Art Colony would be doomed to self-destruct. I’d been working for months to get this venture off the ground and I was not going to let this sour old farmer start the day off wrong.
“Bill, your ‘backyard’ is over five miles away. You can’t even see this place from there. If someone murders me and Karl in our sleep tonight, you can say ‘I told you so’ at the funeral. That should make you happy. But for now you get out of here before I call the sheriff’s office. My husband’s on duty today and you know what he’ll say if he has to come all the way out here to calm you down.”
Karl is probably the least daunting deputy since Barney Fife, but invoking his name seemed to do the trick. With one last grumbled “I warned you,” Bill turned on his heel and strode to his Ford pickup. The rusted door stuck on his first try at opening it, thus foiling his attempt at a dramatic exit. He made up for it when he slammed it shut and sped off with a cloud of dust and dirt. The dogs yapped at him all the way down to the mailbox before returning for praise.
“Good dogs.” My hands trembled as I squatted and scratched Trixie behind her ears. When Leonard thrust his slobbery nose between us trying to hog all the attention, she patiently vacated so her neurotic brother could get assurance that he, too, was loved. I buried my face in his soft fur.
The dogs looked like mismatched bookends: Trixie all brownish red with a tuft of cream on her chest, Leonard almost all cream with subtle patches of red across his back. They had shown up on our doorstep as a set one blowy winter day, probably dumped along the road by someone with no patience for puppies. Their dependence on each other was equaled only by their mutual affection.
With a last loving pat to each head, I stood up. The day had started out full of pleasant anticipation. I’d gotten up early, did chores, and put a quick breakfast on the table for Karl. While he did some early planting, I’d showered and selected my attire carefully, a forest-green skirt that reminded me of a dress Gran wore in a photo from the Fifties. This would probably be the last time the residents would see me in anything but blue jeans, so I wanted to make a good impression.
Then Bill had shown up right when the first guest was expected and my anxiety level spiked. He’d been trying to nix the whole art colony idea from the beginning, but I thought by now he’d have accepted defeat.
I lifted my face to catch the spring sunshine. A breeze blew tendrils of hair in front of my eyes like a shredded brown curtain. The smell of fresh-cut grass mingled with earthy loam from the cornfields. The buzz of a nearby bald-faced hornet harmonized with the engine of the John Deere lawn mower. Eddie, our lawn care helper, had moved on to the patch of grass in front of our little house next door.
There went the dandelions. Karl hated having the edible weeds in the lawn but I loved the contrast of yellow bloom against fresh green grass. One of my favorite paintings of Gran’s was a watercolor of a single dandelion in a sea of emerald lawn.
In the feed lot by the barn, Callie now calmly chewed her cud and swished away flies with her tail. Hattie, a palomino, alternately nipped mouthfuls of meadow grass and nuzzled the love of her life, Sherman, a Shetland pony only a third her size. Somewhere, Susie the sow was fast asleep in a mud puddle and I could hear the cackle of Wynken, Blynken and Nod from the henhouse and an occasional bleat from one of the goats. Probably Larry giving Moe and Curly a hard time. I had named the chickens, Karl the goats.
Like counting my blessings, thinking of the animals calmed my nerves, and just in time, too. A small yellow Smart Car turned up the drive and pulled into one of the graveled parking spots.
Author bio:
I was born and raised in a mid-sized town in the Midwest U.S.A. but I always wanted to live in the country. I got my wish when I got married and moved to 80 acres which was an hour drive from the nearest mall. For the first years of our marriage we practiced a minimalist, homesteading lifestyle like raising our own beef, chicken and pork and growing a huge garden which I canned and froze to hold us through the winter. It was a lot of work, but rewarding. I look back on it with fond memories, even though I don’t plan to give up my smart phone, microwave, and laptop anytime soon these days.
Stalk the author:
http://www.DebDonahue.info ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Series website ~ Series Facebook Page
September 21, 2016
Read an #excerpt of One Wrong Move by @angelaswriter #romanticsuspense
Title: One Wrong Move
Author: Angela Smith
Published: 8/16/16
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
~ Synopsis ~
Romance doesn’t fit into Camden Alexander’s hazardous line of work…
A DEA agent, Camden is deep undercover, posing as a chef on a dangerous drug operation. He wants to take down Darrell Weberley, the owner of the Vin Doux restaurant, who is suspected of manufacturing his own brand of designer drugs. The investigation leaves no time for romance, plus he can’t risk exposing his cover. His love ’em and leave ’em philosophy is the only thing that keeps his one night stands out of harm’s way.
Rayma O’Riley isn’t looking for a quick hook-up. She has her own agenda…
Rayma is bored with her position as anchorwoman for News 12. She misses the thrill of investigative reporting. When she receives an anonymous email about a lucrative restaurant manufacturing drugs, she decides to investigate the story in her free time. She quickly finds a source for information in the form of the handsome and flirty chef. She agrees to a date, thinking she can pry insider information out of Camden.
If Camden can’t convince Rayma to drop this investigation, Darrell will have both their heads…
Camden can’t blow his cover, but if Rayma doesn’t stop snooping around, he knows it will lead to trouble. He doesn’t want her getting hurt before he can take Darrell down. He tries to scare some sense into her, but Rayma releases an article about the restaurant’s below-the-law side business anyway.
Darrell Weberley isn’t the kind of man to let something like that go without punishment, and all it’s going to take is…
one wrong move.
Grab a copy:
~ Excerpt ~
“My name is Camden. I’m the chef who brought about your story.”
“I remember,” Rayma said. “Care to give us any insight?”
“Clashing of opinions.” His smile revealed perfect teeth. “Kind of like now.”
“Oh?” Rayma sipped her wine, but it came out as a slurp. She set the glass on the table and dabbed her mouth with the napkin in an attempt to look bored.
“You think I’m a jerk. I think you’re wrong.”
“You going to beat me up over it?” she asked, smiling. He was handsome and charming. She was taken in by his good looks but not by his charm. Charm didn’t faze her, even if her heart floundered in her chest and her entire body vibrated like a plucked string.
“How are you enjoying your dinner?” His voice, deep and rich, trilled along the lines of her collarbone and into her throat. His undertone was like a whisper-soft touch, and she fought the urge to tilt her head back and await his lips on her skin.
She dropped her napkin on her plate and tried to compose herself. “Why do you ask? You didn’t poison it did you?”
His laugh thrummed into her, each note sliding to a lower rhythm and settling into her core. “Now why would I do that?”
She scanned the room, her gaze landing everywhere but on his face. “I don’t know, to get rid of the bad advertising?” She finally glanced up at him. Their eyes met. She nearly collapsed with the punch of their chemistry. Her chair wobbled, like a dock in the ocean being hit by forceful swells, and her heart pounded out dissonant rhythms. “And anyway, you give me way too much credit. Barely anyone reads my blog.”
“Another clash of opinions,” he said.
He looked like the devil. Strong jawbone, deep-set eyes so dark she’d lose herself with one glimpse. Perfectly coiffed hair that could easily be mussed by her hands.
Certainly he evoked this effect on all women on purpose. She fisted her hands on her lap and relaxed her shoulders, breathing in and out slowly and inconspicuously. When that didn’t work to ease her, she grabbed her glass of wine and gulped.
“Would you like another glass?”
She hated how his eyes sparkled, as if he knew exactly how he affected her. He was probably accustomed to it, but she was certain he wasn’t accustomed to having the tables turned. He was like a gift from the heavens, and not because of his looks and his charm. No, he was the chef of a famous restaurant accused of smuggling drugs. What better way to unearth the information she desperately craved?
“No, thanks.”
“I have to get back to work, but I get off sometime after eleven. How about coffee?”
“Coffee at eleven?” she asked, oozing her own charm, turning her gaze down, then up again. Smiling. Flirting to her advantage, not his. “I’ll be in bed by then.”
~ About the Author ~
Angela Smith is a Texas native and was dubbed most likely to write a novel during her senior year in high school since she always had her nose stuck in a book. Although high school was decades ago, the dream began when her mom read ‘Brer Rabbit’ to her and her sister so often they could recite it back to each other before ever learning to read. Angela started with writing romantic suspense and is branching into other genres, but she hasn’t been able to write one yet where falling in love doesn’t come into play. She works as a certified paralegal and office manager at her local District Attorney’s office and spends her free time with her husband and the animals on her small farm. Although life in general keeps her very busy, her passion for writing and getting the stories out of her head tends to make her restless if she isn’t following what some people call her destiny.
Contact Links
Website ~ Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Blog ~ Pinterest ~ Goodreads
How to write an author profile #amwriting #authormarketing
First off, let me make it clear that I am not referring to a professional author profile for editors, publishers, etc. I’m talking about that section ‘about the author’ which you will find on websites such as Amazon, Goodreads, Barnes & Nobles, etc. These profiles are not meant to impress anyone. Hmmm… that sounded wrong. Of course, you want to impress readers but not in the same manner as you would impress a possible employer. Let’s be honest here: readers don’t care if you were the editor-in-chief of your high school newspaper. And I certainly don’t want to see where you went to high school. Writers seem to get author profile and resume confused. Personally, I think my resume is pretty impressive. I’m also fairly positive that absolutely no one who reads my resume will run out and buy my books.
But how are you supposed to write an author profile that gets readers to one-click your book? Here are just a few tips and tricks.
Don’t be too serious. This advice flies in the face of all the other articles you’ve read out there. That’s because those articles are focused on you writing an author profile in order to find an agent or publisher. Readers aren’t impressed (at least I’m not) when an author profile includes information such as: which made it clear he was predestined to serve a role in literary excellence. Obviously, you don’t need me to buy your book because you are already excellent. *Gags*
Don’t include information that isn’t relevant to your writing. I may be a lawyer, a business owner and a former police officer, but guess what? Potentially readers don’t give a darn – unless your background is somehow relevant to your writing. Do you write legal thrillers? In that case, I want to know you have a legal background.
Use the right tone. There’s nothing worse (okay, there are a lot of worse things but you get my drift) than reading a hilarious author profile and then discovering that an author’s books are anything but funny. What? Why did you get my hopes up? *pouts*
Showcase your writing. An author profile is a great opportunity to show off your writing guns. If you write thrillers, thrill potential readers. Write mysteries? Try to infuse your profile with a bit of mystery.
Spell check, spell check, spell check. Nothing turns a potential reader off more than a profile with typos. Sure, you’re only human, but you need to get this one paragraph perfect.
Verbosity. In case you haven’t noticed, everyone is busy, busy, busy. And attention spans are the shortest they’ve ever been. Don’t use five words to say something you can say in one or two.
What do you think? What attracts you to an author? What sort of author profile makes you check out an author’s books?
September 20, 2016
Read an #excerpt of In The Garden Room by @Blunder_Woman #historicalsuspense #gothic And enter the #giveaway
Title: In the Garden Room
Author: Tanya Eby
Published: July 18, 2016
Publisher: Blunder Woman Productions
Genre: Historical Suspense, Gothic
~ Synopsis ~
It is Chicago. 1910. Eleven-year-old Lillian March looks over her mother’s dead body with a sense of relief.
As a poor woman, her mother, Cora, never had any real choices or happiness with her life. Cora and Lillian flee to the bustling city of Chicago, where she is certain she will have the life of opulence she deserves.
Cora and Lillian face deep hardships in turn-of-the-century Chicago as Cora’s mind continues its downward spiral. With no money and no hope for income, Cora sells Lillian to The Garden Room, a brothel, where young girls and desperate women are kept like flowers in a jar.
John March comes looking for his daughter and his wife in an attempt to rescue them, but even if he finds them alive, is rescue really possible?
IN THE GARDEN ROOM is an exploration of madness, desire and two women’s choices in a time when they weren’t really allowed to choose.
Grab a copy here:
Amazon ~ Barnes and Noble ~ Kobo ~ iBooks
~ Excerpt ~
Cora had it all planned out. It hadn’t taken any effort, really. It unrolled like a rug…one push and it unfurled all on its own. They would escape. She would protect Lillian, the way that she had dreamed of being protected, and she would whisk her away to a safe place. A place where Lillian could grow up and meet a good man who could support her the way she deserved, maybe buying a nice home for Cora too, though Cora wasn’t quite past the courting stage, yet. If she weren’t married. It didn’t matter. This was a moment for a new start. To start the way life should: with possibility.
She took their cherry farm money. All of it. Cora moved with the speed of a crack of lightning. This was her chance, and she intended to take it.
John’s ship had been delayed. He was not dead, of course. Not at the bottom of Lake Michigan, where, secretly, she thought he’d be better off. Happier. He was circling the Upper Peninsula where the fishing was better than expected. By the time he made it home, they’d have been gone long enough for a thin layer of dust to settle over every surface in the house, though he probably wouldn’t even notice.
It was amazing how swiftly one could free oneself. Like throwing open the door to a cage, Cora had escaped, bringing her little bird with her.
They took a train to Ludington, and then boarded the ferry for Chicago.
On the train, Cora sat demurely. She folded her gloved hands in her lap and imagined she was a debutante at a ball. She should have been a debutante. She should have been swathed in white silk and passed from one fine-gloved hand to another. Instead, she was a fisherman’s wife with calluses on her knees. That could stop now. The train shook on the tracks, and Cora felt as if it was shaking off her skin, leaving her exposed and soft as a peeled hardboiled egg. For once, Lillian did not prattle on and on. Her daughter sat in a stunned sort of silence, her eyes hollow. Her shoulders seemed weighted down. She’d get over it soon. Every girl had to leave her father, at some point. Every girl was handed over to someone new and forgotten. That was the way the world worked.
The train hummed, or maybe a song hummed within Cora’s chest. The landscape rushed by in a zoom of color. She closed her eyes to it. When she opened them again, it would be like awakening from a bad dream, and she could start the day over again. Chicago was just a boat ride away. It waited for her.
~ About the Author ~
Tanya Eby is a writer and an award-winning audiobook narrator. She has published a variety of novels from romantic comedies to mysteries to dark historical pieces. While her writing crosses genres they all share quirky characters and complicated relationships. Visit her at tanyaeby.com or follow her on Twitter @Blunder_Woman.
Contact Information
Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Blog ~ Goodreads
~ Giveaway ~
Read an #excerpt of Miles of Files by spotlight author @MikeSahno #crime
Book title: Miles of Files
Author: Michael J. Sahno
Genre: Literary/Crime
Published: 12/10/15
Synopsis:
In Miles of Files, the main character, Paul Panepinto, an employee at Flambet Insurance, learns that his manager Graham Woodcock is stealing from the company. Paul struggles with whether or not to report the boss at the risk of losing his position. Eventually, Graham fires Paul anyway and Paul is forced to pursue justice, but the story doesn’t end as expected. Readers move through a fast-paced adventure with many twists and turns, including high points, drama, comedy, and an edge that Sahno captures through his writing.
Grab a copy here:
Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunes ~ Kobo ~ Smashwords
Excerpt:
AT 5:38 ON the morning of his forty-first birthday, Graham Woodcock awakened to the sound of a cat retching. He heard three distinct thumps as the cat’s larynx contracted, then a sound with a different quality, liquid, gurgling: no doubt the discharge of some vomitous hairball. Or, worse, an entire meal. He saw it in his mind’s eye as he glared through the dark at the red numbers of the alarm clock.
When he finally decided to rise—after another hour’s sleep—he was roused not by the urgency of cat puke, but by the urgency of the breakfast hour. Not his—the cats’. One of them leapt on the bed and nuzzled his outstretched hand with phony affection, a clear message: get up, get up. Giddyup.
Graham crept into the kitchen, trailing the cats in darkness. He scanned the floor to avoid any cat vomit that might be there, but there was none. He flipped on lights and fed the cats, then wandered from room to room in search of vomit. Nothing.
He sat down to eat his breakfast, and everything was fine until one of the cats began to move its bowels while Graham was finishing his cereal. It was Truman, no doubt, whose bathroom routine was maddeningly predictable.
He decided to ignore it and finish the cereal in spite of the odor. Then Truman strutted into the kitchen, waving his tail like a dog. Somehow he’d managed to snake his tail across the gloppy pile of excrement in the litter pan, and a streak of it glistened in his fur like a grotesque flag.
“Bloody hell.”
The cat approached the breakfast nook, still switching his tail back and forth, and each motion left a faint brown brushstroke against the cream-colored paint. He created his own masterpiece right beneath the kitchen counter.
“NO, no, no. Shit,” Graham said, then realized the irony. He picked the cat up by the scruff of the neck—the only way he could hold him without getting himself painted—and carried him into the bathroom. “You little bastard.” He swallowed the urge to slam the cat against the wall.
“I hope this isn’t an indication of the kind of day it’s going to be.”
But it was. On the side of the bathtub stood a cockroach the size of Graham’s thumb. He froze, dropping the cat as the roach scampered down into the clean white tub. “Christ!”
He cranked the hot water all the way on to drown the brown beast, which swam around with frantic leg movements. At last it succumbed to the boiling hot water and floated toward the drain, which was too small for it.
“Why the hell did I ever come to this godforsaken swamp?” he muttered. “All I ever wanted was a nice house in the hills and a bit of crumpet on the side. Now I’m stuck in Florida with the cast of Deliverance, killing roaches that look like Harley fucking Davidson motorcycles. If it weren’t for the 401(k) program, I’d bloody well sod off.”
The Harley Davidson was dead now, and Graham grabbed it with a wad of toilet paper before flushing it. Unfortunately, he’d scalded himself in the process, and small pink welts like fever blisters rose on his arms.
He remembered the cat, and knew it was too late. Sure enough, as he walked from the bathroom he saw light brown feather-strokes at odd points on the burgundy carpet. Some were barely visible, like the first one he stepped on—with his bare foot, of course.
“Happy fucking birthday,” he said between his teeth.
Author bio:
Michael J. Sahno began writing stories at an early age. Eventually, he was selected for Editor-in-Chief of his high school literary magazine. The quality of his work led to several honorary titles and academic awards by his senior year, which made it clear he was predestined to serve a role in literary excellence.
Mr. Sahno earned his Bachelor’s from Lynchburg College and later went on to earn his Master’s in English from Binghamton University.
After college, Mr. Sahno served in several management positions, including Director at a marketing research firm, Assistant Vice President at a Tampa-based mortgage company and college professor in the field of English composition.
Sahno became a full-time professional writer in 2001 and, in the following years, wrote more than 1,000 marketing articles on a wide range of topics.
Mr. Sahno has written and published three novels: Brothers’ Hand, Jana, and Miles of Files. He is the founder of Sahno Publishing and available for professional speaking engagements upon request. For further information, contact info@msahno.com.
Author links:
Website: ~ Goodreads ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Blog
September 19, 2016
Witches, God-Like Powers, Ancient Wars! Check out The Divinities by @novelsbylia #giveaway
Revised and re-released – Forgotten Visions available now! And Death’s Storm coming Oct 5th!
Follow the blitz and enter to #win one of 5 signed paperbacks of Forgotten Visions and a surprise swag pack!
Enter at:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Title: Forgotten Visions
Series: The Divinities #1
Author: Lia Davis
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: August 24, 2016
Length: 67k words
Format: Digital/Paperback
ISBN: 978-1944060152
Kalissa Bradenton isn’t your average coffee shop owner. Born to an elite witch bloodline with a rare genetic mutation, she’s a Divinity on a mission. Her investigation into the deaths of her parents sends her straight into the middle of an ancient war between witches and demons. After a near-fatal accident, a childhood friend, Ayden Daniels, comes to her aid and triggers visions of a past she doesn’t remember, sparking an old flame and new desires. With their history slowly becoming clearer, Kalissa eagerly sets her sights on mending Ayden’s heart and gaining his trust—until a ghost from her past returns to claim her as his demonic mate.
While investigating a series of Divinity murders, Ayden, the new sheriff of Maxville and grandson of the oldest living Divinity, comes face-to-face with the one woman he hopes to have little to no contact with. Old pain rises instantly and is quickly followed by anger and resentment. Through his rare power of adaptability, however, he learns that things from his past may not be what they seem. Hope fills his broken heart, and determination pushes him to do whatever it takes to win Kalissa once more before he loses her forever.
Together, they must find the strength to mend their tattered souls and learn to love again, while fighting an evil out to destroy the world.
Available at: Amazon
Title: Death’s Storm
Series: The Divinities #2
Author: Lia Davis
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: October 5, 2016
Length: 47k words
Format: Digital/Paperback
ISBN: 978-1944060176
Technical genius and demi-goddess—a.k.a Divinity—Khloe Bradenton relies on no one for help, and she definitely doesn’t need comfort from anyone but her twin. After her parents were killed by the demons over two years ago, she graciously accepts her role in the war between the demons and witches. But when a creature far more dangerous than the ones responsible for killing her parents claims he is her guardian and steps in with help she never asked for, she is torn between her desire for the dark predator and memories of the painful loss she endured at the hands of her enemies and from those who claimed to love her in the past.
One of the last Death Demons still in existence, Jagger has pledged his life to the Goddess of Witchcraft, Hecate. Charged with guardianship of the Divinities—one particular spitfire, in particular—he was told never to approach them, but simply to aid from a distance. But when Khloe sacrifices herself to save her twin and best friend and thus becomes the demons’ prey, Jagger has no choice but to reveal himself to her. However, he is taken by surprise when the desire to claim her as his own emerges, and his need for her burns hotter than her Fire. But in the midst of the war, their feelings for each other could prove more dangerous than the demons out to destroy them.
Available at: Amazon
More books from The Divinities coming this fall!
Dark Divine: coming November 9, 2016
Divine Awakening: coming December 14, 2016:
About the Author
In 2008, Lia Davis ventured into the world of writing and publishing and never looked back. She has published more than twenty books, including the bestselling A Tiger’s Claim, book one in her fan favorite Ashwood Falls series. Her novels feature compassionate yet strong alpha heroes who know how to please their women and her leading ladies are each strong in their own way. No matter what obstacle she throws at them, they come out better in the end.
While writing was initially a way escape from real world drama, Lia now makes her living creating worlds filled with magic, mystery, romance, and adventure so that others can leave real life behind for a few hours at a time.
Lia’s favorite things are spending time with family, traveling, reading, writing, chocolate, coffee, nature and hanging out with her kitties. She and her family live in Northeast Florida battling hurricanes and very humid summers, but it’s her home and she loves it! Sign up for her newsletter, become a member of her fan club, and follow her on Twitter@NovelsByLia.
You can visit her online at the following places:
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon
Follow the blitz and enter to #win a signed paperback of Forgotten Visions!
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September 18, 2016
Spotlight on @leeducote Author of Camp 80 #humor
Book title: Camp 80
Series: Cedar Branch
Author: Lee DuCote
Genre: Humor
Published: Grave Distractions Publishing 8/22/2016
Synopsis:
What do you get when six retirees attend an orientation trip before moving into Cedar Branch Retirement Community? A week of outlandish fiasco’s, hilarious revenge, memorable tears, and most important . . . laughter. Derrick St. Clair, a social worker for CBC, has led many trips for the eccentric community but never experienced a trip like this. One thing, of many, that Derrick didn’t expect was to fall in love with co-worker Katlyn Rose and while his mind is occupied the six seniors plan their own trip from stealing the van to seeking revenge on three disrespectful young men.
With a lady’s man from Manhattan, two kooky sisters from Arkansas, a grumpy husband from Alabama, and a quiet little man from Atlanta this week is one for the books. So take a trip with Cedar Branch and fall in love with the characters that now reside in the number one retirement community in the south. Who knows, you just might make plans to move in.
Grab a copy:
About the author:
To introduce myself, I was born and raised in Northwest Louisiana, just outside of Shreveport. I graduated from high school in 1989 and went to Monroe Louisiana for college. After my first year at NLU I decided (actually my parents did) I wasn’t ready for college, so I did what every 19 year old kid does….I moved to the Marshal Islands in the mid pacific. After a few years I came home, meet my wife and settle down for a short bit. I worked construction, opening my own sporting goods store, became a full-time fireman, opened a candle manufacturing company, and even rodeo for a short term. Just not at the same time. In 2003 we moved to Franklin TN were I sold fire trucks until 2010 and moved to Heber Springs AR. Since here in the Ozark Mountains I have written six novels and currently working on my seventh, another YA novel. So that’s me in a quick whirl wind. And yes, if you check out my web site or social media you will see me with our pet raccoons, Otter and Tucker.
Author links:
Website ~ Facebook ~ Instagram ~ Grave Distractions ~ Twitter
September 17, 2016
Read an excerpt of Pokergest by @michaelpcash #paranormal #comedy
Title: Pokergeist
Author: Michael Phillip Cash
Published: July 15, 2015
Publisher: Chelshire, Inc.
Genre: Ghost, Paranormal, Vegas, Comedy
~ Synopsis ~
Sometimes life, as well as death, is about second chances. Luckless Telly Martin doesn’t have a clue. An awful gambler trying to scrape by as a professional poker player, he becomes the protégé of world famous poker champion Clutch Henderson. The only catch…Clutch is a ghost. Telly and Clutch must navigate the seedy gambling underbelly of Las Vegas learning to trust each other in order to win the elusive International Series of Poker, repair their shattered personal relationships and find redemption in this life and the hereafter.
Grab a copy
~ Excerpt ~
Gretchen’s shoulders hunched. “I’m not on for another fifteen minutes,” she replied. Telly watched her shrink before his eyes. He reached out to take her fingers loosely within his own.
The air felt weighted; an electric current of tension sizzled in the hot air. A cat meowed, breaking the silence.
“You the poker player?”
“I like to play, yes,” Telly said defensively.
“Yeah, I bet you’re a regular Phil Hellmuth.” Rob looked him up and down and then dismissed him. “So I’ll see you at the Series, right?”
“The Series?” Telly asked.
“Yeah, doofus. The Series. If you play, you gotta play in that.”
“Of course—but I…I think we may have another commitment, right, Gretch?”
Gretchen nodded mutely, her eyes wide. She did not like Rob Couts. Rob stayed longer than he should have, even though he saw Gretchen slide her hand inside Telly’s. He looked at their clasped hands and said quietly, “I think it’s time for you to leave, Radio.”
Gretchen squeezed his hand and said loudly, “Not yet,” staring the other man down.
The couple appeared to be having a private moment, but Rob stood watching them. He hawked once, spitting a glob of mucus toward the trash. “If you change your commitments, I’ll see you at the Series. Thirteen minutes left,” he said abruptly, pushing through them to go inside. He had wide shoulders and wore short-sleeved shirts so you could see the veining on his muscled arms. Telly felt like a gawky kid next to him. Telly straightened his shoulders, but Rob had already dismissed him. He looked at her, trying to catch her eyes in the moonlight. “I’m going for the cab job first thing tomorrow. Are you uncomfortable here? Don’t go in.”
“It’s silly. You know I like my job. He’s just got a crush on me this week. He’ll move on to Jana next week.”
“I don’t like the way he was looking at you.”
For the first time, his mild-mannered girlfriend bristled. “You think I can’t take care of myself? ’ve been on my own since I was seventeen, Telly. I can take care of myself.”
“I never doubted that, Gretch,” Telly said honestly. He loved her independence. Gretchen had reunited with her mother just recently, after a lifetime of foster care. Her mother had spent Gretchen’s youth in a haze of alcohol abuse and drug addiction.
“Go home, Tel. I’ll be back by five.” She turned toward the door.
Telly reached into his pocket, opening his wallet to pull out a thinly folded ten-dollar bill. It was his emergency cash. When he’d first gotten his license, his mother had given it to him and insisted that he keep it behind his ID card so he would never be without money. He had never used it and was a little sentimental about it. It made Gretchen’s insides melt. Telly would give the shirt off his back if she didn’t protect him.
“No, Telly!”
“Don’t argue with me.” He placed it in her palm. “Call a cab. I mean it, Gretchen. Don’t walk home.” He placed his finger on her lip and then his heart.
Gretchen whispered, “Thick and thin.” She kissed him good-night, waving as he left to walk the few blocks home alone.
~ About the Author ~
Michael Phillip Cash is an award-winning and best-selling novelist of horror, paranormal, and science fiction novels. He’s written ten books including the best-selling “Brood X”, “Stillwell”, “The Flip”, “The After House”, “The Hanging Tree”, “Witches Protection Program”, “Pokergeist”, “Monsterland”, “The History Major”, and “Battle for Darracia” series. Michael’s books are on the Amazon best-seller list and have also won numerous awards. Additionally, he is a screenwriter with 14 specs under his belt. Michael resides on the North Shore of Long Island.
Contact Links
Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Blog ~ Goodreads
September 16, 2016
Read an excerpt of Devil in the Grass by @notlrealty #darkthriller
Book title: Devil in the Grass
Series: Yes – Book one in the Jackson Walker Saga
Is the book a standalone? No
Author: Christopher Bowron
Genre: Dark Thriller
Published: March 2016
Synopsis:
When his pro football career fails, Jackson Walker returns to his home in southwest Florida to sort out his life. He lands an internship with Republican state senator James Hunter, whose Clean Water Bill puts him at odds with influential members of The Brotherhood of Set, a Satanic cult. They have deep roots in Florida, and are led by the sinister Henrietta LePley.
After Walker begins a relationship with a member of the Brotherhood, he is framed for the horrific killing of two elderly people. To clear his name, Jackson turns to his Seminole family to evade the police and a particularly nasty bunch of malevolent characters who specialize in the disposal of dead bodies. The Everglades provides an ancient and frightening setting for the unfolding action that will prove whether Jackson Walker will pull himself free from the dark evil that lurks there.
What readers are saying
“HIGHLY RECOMMENDED” – The Columbia Review
“Move over Randy Wayne White and Carl Hiaasen. Chris Bowron has arrived!” – Betsy Ashton, author
“A snappy, scary premise executed with skill against the backdrop of the Florida Everglades… Chris Bowron’s debut novel is a gripping read that promises even better things to come.” – Ron Base – Author of The Sanibel Sunset Detective Series
Excerpt:
THE GREAT SWAMP HUMMED with wildlife—crickets, frogs, insects, waterfowl, cranes together created a chorus. The night was still and very warm, and the air smelled sweet and musky, except for the occasional waft of swamp sulfur. Mosquitoes and no-see-ums were thick, searching for exposed flesh. A full moon provided ample light for those creatures that needed it, be they man or beast. Three men stood on a low, flat aluminum skiff which moved slowly down the middle of a wide marshy river, leaving a clear trail in the brown-gold algae that covered the water. One of the men stood on a platform raised above the outboard motor. With a long pole, he pushed the craft forward. The figure in the middle of the boat held a flashlight, which he aimed at the grassy bank of the river. The third held a high-powered rifle cradled in his arms.
Jimmy McFadden grinned as he poled the skiff along. “Like shootin’ fish in a barrel, ain’t it. Eric?”
His older brother shushed him. “Just keep the damn boat straight, you dumb bastard.”
Isaac shook his head. He’d been listening to this back and forth banter for most of his forty-five years. Eric had raised Jimmy and Isaac after the death of their parents nearly thirtyfive years ago. It was said to have been a freak accident, but Eric knew the details of their suspicious demise. They drowned inside their car in one of the old drainage ditches close to home. Eric was the only sibling old enough to remember; he had been fifteen at the time. His most lingering memory was standing in the funeral home, greeting the various people who knew his parents and came to give their respects—sugar cane farmers, local businesspeople, and colored folk who lived close to their property. His mother was kind to the Negroes. The faces, though, were blurry—except for one. In the procession of mourners and well-wishers, only the old woman stood out. The old woman, that was her name, at least as far as Eric McFadden was concerned. Eric thought she was creepy. He didn’t like the way she smiled. It was forced, her perfectly straight, brown, stained teeth displayed behind tightly stretched thin lips. She seemed to look right through him, and her breath smelled of stale wine.
“Your parents were fine members of this community, boy. They will be missed.” She placed a hand on his thin shoulder, pulling him in closer to her face and the corrupt smell that emanated from her mouth. “Do you intend to carry on the family business, boy?” Eric didn’t answer; he was too numb. She gave him an envelope, pressing it between his clasped hands. Later that night, he sat alone in the McFadden home’s large and ornate parlor, his parents’ caskets displayed at the end of the room, surrounded by garish-looking flower arrangements. He pulled the envelope out of his breast pocket and opened it. It was full of crisp hundred-dollar bills.
Eric looked back on that moment as a turning point in his life—the day he put his parents in the ground and sold his soul. He often wondered if his father had done the same in his youth. He remembered his daddy talking about the old woman, how she had supported their family for as long as he could remember. He was quick to say, “Never cross her, lad, or you’ll have the devil to pay.” Eric was never sure if this comment was to be taken seriously or figuratively.
Eric had always worked with his father. He hadn’t spent a day in school: as far as the Lee County School District knew, Eric McFadden didn’t exist. His mother taught him to read, write, add, subtract and multiply. Young Eric tagged along with Jed McFadden wherever he went, never questioning his judgment. Morality was not an issue: he didn’t know any better, he simply did as his father requested. When asked to cut the lawn, he did it. Later, when asked to dispose of a dead body with a bullet hole in the forehead, he did it. This was just how things were. His daddy showed him how the great swamp could swallow up a soul without leaving a trace.
The McFaddens and their ancestors were cleaners. They disposed of things great and small, including scrap metal, old cars and trucks, road kill for the county, and dead bodies. If the pay was good, they would kill. As far as Jed could recollect, the business had existed prior to the Civil War. Upon his parents’ deaths, Eric simply continued. His father’s clientele came to him because there was no one else to go to. They came to him with dirty jobs and he took care of them, no questions asked. It was a natural continuation. The McFadden’s best customer was the old woman, who loved her poison.
As Eric’s younger siblings grew older, the roles within the McFadden family shifted. Eric taught the family business to his two younger brothers, which, simply put, was fixing other people’s mistakes. Isaac, the middle brother, used the money he inherited from their parents to put himself through school. Eric figured that at least one McFadden should get an education, and would whip Isaac if he was lax with his studies. His high school marks were exceptional, the highest in Lee County during his graduating year. He was accepted at many exceptional colleges and chose Cornell University in upstate New York, an Ivy League college. He graduated with an MBA after completing his undergraduate degree. Isaac inherited his mother’s taste for clothing and the finer things in life. His style was impeccable, and he was always perfectly dressed for the occasion. For instance, when gator hunting, Isaac would outfit himself in pressed safari khakis and a large brim hat. During business hours, he was seldom seen without a casual suit and tie, Ivy League all the way. Tall with dirty blond hair, his face, like his mother’s, was sharp featured, with a long, hawk-like nose—handsome if you could get past the seriousness of his demeanor. Isaac came home to run the family business, His brothers acquiesced to his exceptional ability to manage their affairs, but only as long as he left them alone to pursue their own idiosyncrasies. McFadden Holdings, Inc. was truly a unique undertaking. They did things that other people did not want to do, or did not know how to do, and were paid very well to do it thanks to Isaac’s business acumen. Cleaners needed to be much more careful these days. It had been easy to dispose of things when his father was around, but the modern world put such questionable dealings under a microscope. Issac understood the value of appearances, and made sure that the brothers were diversified and ran front businesses. Isaac formed a small but successful accounting firm. Jimmy was a taxidermist extraordinaire. Eric ran fishing tours out of Pine Island.
Author bio:
Christopher Bowron’s roots stretch back four generations in historic Niagara-on-the-Lake, voted the prettiest town in Canada. Christopher is the owner of a successful Real Estate Brokerage, Niagara-on-the-Lake Realty. He has a bachelor of arts from Brock University and is a lover of fine wine, sport and a story that takes you away. Christopher has a second residence in southwest Florida where he has spent a good part of his life since childhood. Southwest Florida is the backdrop for his first novel, Devil in the Grass.
Christopher is currently working on a sequel to Devil in the Grass, a thriller called The Intern. Jackson Walker returns to find himself in another paranormal mix up as he attempts to run for the Florida State Senate. Is the Church of Set seeking to derail his bid, or is it new and if possible, more dastardly entity?
Author links:
Website ~ Amazon Author Page ~ Twitter
