It’s Halloween Party Time – Rise by Moonlight by Nancy Gideon @NancyGideon @RoxanneRhoads

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It’s Halloween Party Time!

October brings out the party animal in me!

I can’t help it . . . from the extensive decorating (too many orange tubs to count!) to the ghoulish appetizers (including skull Jell-O molds!) . . . I love it all!! But for sake of space, I’ll condense my bump in the night and howl at the moon passions into a list of favorite things.

Favorite childhood scare:  Bella Lugosi’s Dracula

Favorite type of shapeshifter:  Wolf

Favorite Halloween movies:  Wolf, Ernest Scared Stupid, Hocus Pocus, Halloween 2019 

Favorite costume from childhood:  The front half of a donkey 

Favorite scary place:  The Myrtles Plantation outside New Orleans

Favorite scary book: Stephen King’s The Shining 

Favorite paranormal TV shows:  Supernatural, Penny Dreadful (first 3 seasons), Night Gallery, Kolchak the Night Stalker

Favorite otherworldly passion: Collecting Tarot cards 

Favorite Halloween candy:  Snickers 

Favorite Halloween decoration: my animated/lighted Halloween village, now with over ten buildings and graveyard! 

And my other favorite . . . Halloween music videos! For your grim enjoyment, shiver your way through my Halloween Video Playlist on YouTube 

Have a Boo-fully scary (but safe!) holiday




Rise By Moonlight
By Moonlight
Book 15
Nancy Gideon

Genre: paranormal romance/ PNR
Date of Publication:  August 3, 2020
ASIN: B08DKGQV9G
Number of pages: 273
Word Count: 88,571

Cover Artist: Patricia Lazarus, Lazarus Art

Tagline: Max and Charlotte return for the explosive conclusion of the “By Moonlight” series . . . and the stakes have never been higher!

Book Description:

He’s the Promised One

A Mobster’s attack dog turned legitimate business powerhouse, Max Savoie is the reluctant leader of New Orleans’ shapeshifter clan. They’ve kept to anonymous shadows, working and living unnoticed by the human world until their new Shifter King’s past draws dangerous outsiders who threaten all.

She’s the Protector

A fiercely determined NOPD detective, Charlotte Caissie has sworn to defend her beloved city and her unborn child from both criminals and otherworldly factions at war. While standing boldly at the side of her mate/husband, secrets from the past return to shake the foundation of her beliefs.

They Have a Problem

Walking a marital tight rope between opposite worlds, Max and Cee Cee’s paths place truth and trust at odds when outside threats force enemies to become allies. The time to take a stand for their family and their future is at hand. Time to rise together for the survival of all they love!

Amazon      Nook     Kobo      iBook


Excerpt

Max hadn’t visited that dark portion of his past for a very long time. Why now? Because of the life his mate carried? Or were the dangerous shadows of unfinished business reaching out from a swampy grave, a reminder of things he’d rather forget?

A rocking chair’s familiar creak. He tensed and twisted anxiously in the throes of his dream. Icy fingers of caution and loss clutched his chest as eyes darted behind closed lids. Unable to deny his desire to look again upon the worn elegance of his mother’s features, he faced his dread the way he’d addressed his life, with a cautious, reluctant need to know the truth . . . of who and what he was.        

Shadows, like those long-ago secrets, hung thick, revealing little of the dark head bent over the child Marie Savoie held in arms both protective and comforting. Max wished she’d look up to feed time-starved memories, craving the gentle curve of her smile and loving warmth in her gaze. He settled for the steadying croon of a voice from the past.

“What is it, Max? Another bad dream? They can’t harm you.”

As much as he loved her, then and now, he’d never quite believed that assurance. Bad things existed beyond the rusty gate imprisoning his youthful curiosity within their overgrown yard for the first five years of his life. He knew because he was one of them, a child of the unnatural world. All he’d wanted was to find his place within it. But his mother had hidden that knowledge from him, just as she’d kept the outside away for as long as she could

“Mama, what’s wrong with me?” that small voice sobbed.

The rocker continued to complain as she stroked the child’s black hair. Her tender gesture failed to calm either boy or the man he’d become.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Max. You’re perfect. They just don’t understand, so they fear you. That’s why you must be careful to never let them see the truth.”

“What truth?” he’d pleaded. “Mama, tell me!”

Low and soft, Max repeated from where he watched, decades away, “Mama, tell me.”

She brushed a kiss across the top of the child’s flushed brow then slowly straightened, turning toward Max Savoie, a surreal voyeur from the future she’d never see. Her gaze swam with tears like liquid silver before flaring bright, then hot.

Then red.

“Max,” she crooned, “you’re just like me.”


About the Author:

Nancy Gideon is the award-winning bestseller of over 70 romances ranging from historical, Regency, and series contemporary suspense to dark paranormal and horror, with a couple of produced screenplays and non-fiction writing books tossed into the mix. Newly retired from 20 years as a legal assistant, she feeds a Netflix addiction along with all things fur, fin, and fowl, and dotes on her grandguy. She’s also written under the pseudonyms Dana Ransom, Rosalyn West, and Lauren Giddings.











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Giveaway – Hollyberry Homicide by Sharon Farrow @SharonFarrowBB @dollycas

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Hollyberry Homicide (A Berry Basket Mystery)
by Sharon Farrow

About Hollyberry Homicide 


Hollyberry Homicide (A Berry Basket Mystery)
Cozy Mystery
5th in Series
Publisher: Kensington (September 29, 2020)
Mass Market Paperback: 288 pages
ISBN-10: 1496722620
ISBN-13: 978-1496722621
Digital ASIN: B082WQTC18

A cold wind is blowing off Lake Michigan, and murder is scaring the dickens out of everyone . . .

Considering her name, Marlee Jacob is an obvious choice for the role of Jacob Marley in Oriole Point’s production of A Christmas Carol. It’s just sad that the role has opened up because of the death of the elderly actor who’d originally been cast.

But Marlee, the proprietor of The Berry Basket, will do her best to keep spirits high—that is, until clues start mounting that there’s danger behind the scenes. There are accidents on set, the tree in the village square topples over, and worst of all, a body is found with a sprig of holly draped over it. If Marlee can’t wrap up the case, she may not have a berry merry Christmas . . .

Includes Berry Recipes!

About Sharon Farrow

Sharon Farrow is the latest pen name of award-winning author Sharon Pisacreta. A freelance writer since her twenties, she has been published in mystery, fantasy, and romance. Sharon currently writes The Berry Basket cozy mystery series for Kensington. The series debuted in 2016 and is set along the beautiful Lake Michigan shoreline where she now lives. She is also one half of the writing team D.E. Ireland, who co-author the Agatha nominated Eliza Doolittle and Henry Higgins mysteries.

Author Links – 

WEB PAGE           http://sharonfarrowauthor.com/

FACEBOOK         @SharonFarrowAuthor

TWITTER             @SharonFarrowBB

BOOKBUB          @SharonFarrow

Purchase Links – Amazon  –  B&N –  Kobo  –  Google Play  –  IndieBound

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Selkie Moon and The Second Path by Virginia King @selkiemoonbooks

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The Selkie Moon series is not what I expected, but I am loving watching her grow, change and solve the mystery that surrounds her life.

The Second Path (Selkie Moon Mystery, #2)

Amazon / Goodreads

MY REVIEW

When we left Selkie Moon in Book I, The First Lie, she was stranded, naked on the beach. We do get a recap of how she came to be there, but I recommend reading the series in order to get the full picture.

It’s hard to write reviews for the second book in a series without giving anything away and I sure don’t want to spoil Selkie’s adventure as she struggles to find her home. Where does she belong? How will she find peace and escape the danger that seems to be following her? It’s hard to decide who is friend and who is foe, but with her wonderful group of friends, she won’t have to do it alone.

Derek is her guardian angel. He’s angry over her disappearance, but he will be there for her, no matter what. Alister, oh how he makes her heart skip a beat, but she can’t commit to a relationship. Will she find romance? And Nigel. I can relate to Selkie. I too have had more male friends than girl friends. She does have Wanda, her ex roommate and after what happened, I wonder if she will be her roommate again.

She has her favorite restaurant, The Pearl, who’s owner, Eugene, is a sage, he sees things others don’t, while Coral has a permanent spot on the bus line and is an oracle, a psychic that tells her ‘Ala’ (path). Her adventure is not over and there is a path, A Second Path, that she must walk. Davina makes her creations through divine intervention and makes Selkie the most awesome dress ever, while helping her sort through her thoughts.

I am loving watching Selkie patch her life back together, moving on, finding her true self, but I keep waiting for something more. What? I don’t know. She walks her path, her journey, finding herself and a new friend. People enter and leave her as she travels around the world, looking for her HOME.

Once I got past my expectations I was able to truly enjoy Selkie’s adventure and appreciate the story that Virginia King had to share. I look forward to reading more of her work.

I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of The Second Path by Virginia King.

Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos
4 Stars

GOODREADS BLURB

A rock ripped from the soil, a message scrawled in lipstick on the floor, a torn photo, a silver spoon… What do they all mean?

Only her subconscious knows.

When we last left Selkie Moon, she was running towards the source of her deepest primal fear: the sea. Now she finds herself naked on the beach, stunned that she has no memory of the past two weeks.

Recovering at a friend’s house, Selkie wakes up to discover a bizarre collection of items scattered across the floor. Items she apparently gathered in her sleep. Finding the ho’ohihi – the interconnectedness – between them will carry her around the globe, from Honolulu to Sydney to Paris. A dark fairy tale journey filled with fear and despair, laughter and hope, The Second Path has Selkie searching for her place in the world, in her relationships, and in herself.

Searching for home.

ABOUT VIRGINIA KING

Virginia   King

When a voice wakes you up in the middle of the night and tells you to write a mystery series, what’s a writer to do? That’s how I came to create Selkie Moon, after a massage from a strange woman with gifted hands was followed by this nocturnal message. I sat down at the keyboard until Selkie Moon turned up — a modern woman with a mythical name. Soon I was hooked, exploring far-flung places full of secrets where Selkie delves into psychological clues tangled up in the local mythology.

Before Selkie Moon invaded my life, I’d been a teacher, an unemployed ex-teacher, the author of over 50 children’s books, an audio-book producer, a workshop presenter and a prize-winning publisher. These days I live in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney with my husband, where I disappear each day into Selkie Moon’s latest mystery. Bliss.

Website

MY VIRGINIA KING REVIEWS

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Giveaway – Derailed by Mary Keliikoa @mary_keliikoa @partnersincr1me

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Derailed by Mary Keliikoa Banner

 

 

Derailed

by Mary Keliikoa

on Tour September 1-30, 2020

Synopsis:

Derailed by Mary Keliikoa

A dying wish. A secret world.

Can this grieving investigator stay on the right track?

PI Kelly Pruett is determined to make it on her own. And juggling clients at her late father’s detective agency, a controlling ex, and caring for a deaf daughter was never going to be easy. She takes it as a good sign when a letter left by her dad ties into an unsolved case of a young woman struck by a train.

Hunting down the one person who can prove the mysterious death was not just a drunken accident, Kelly discovers this witness is in no condition to talk. And the closer she gets to the truth the longer her list of sleazy suspects with murderous motives grows. Each clue exposes another layer of the victim’s steamy double life.

Can Kelly pinpoint the murderer, or is she on the fast track to disaster?

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery
Published by: Camel Press
Publication Date: May 12th 2020
Number of Pages: 232
ISBN: 1603817069 (ISBN13: 9781603817066)
Series: PI Kelly Pruett #1
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Bookshop | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER 1

Portland, Oregon has as many parts as the human anatomy. Like the body, some are more attractive than others. My father’s P.I. business that I’d inherited was in what many considered the armpit, the northeast, where pickpockets and drug dealers dotted the narrow streets and spray paint tags of bubble-lettered gang signatures striped the concrete. In other words, home. I’m Kelly Pruett and I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

I’d just finished invoicing a client for a skip trace and flicked off the light in the front office my dad and I used to share when a series of taps came from the locked front door. It was three o’clock on a gloomy Friday afternoon. A panhandler looking for a handout or a bathroom was my best guess. Sitting at the desk, I couldn’t tell.

Floyd, my basset hound and the only real man in my life, lifted his droopy eyes to meet mine before flopping his head back down on his bed. No help there.

Another rap, louder this time.

Someone wanted my attention. I retrieved the canister of pepper spray from my purse and opened the door to a woman, her umbrella sheltering her from the late October drizzle. Her angle made it hard to see her face, only the soft curls in her hair and the briefcase hanging from her hand. I slipped the pepper spray into the pocket of my Nike warmup jacket.

“Is Roger Pruett in?” she asked, water droplets splatting the ground.

She hadn’t heard the news and I hadn’t brought myself to update R&K Investigation’s website. I swallowed the lump before it could form and clutch my throat. “No, sorry,” I said. “My dad died earlier this year. I’m his daughter, Kelly.”

“I’m so sorry.” She peered from under the umbrella, her expression pinched. She searched my face for a different answer.

I’d give anything to have one. “What do you need?”

“To hire a P.I. to investigate my daughter’s death. Can you help me?” Her voice cracked.

My stomach fluttered. Process serving, court document searches, and the occasional tedious stakeout had made up the bulk of my fifteen hundred hours of P.I. experience requirement. Not that I wasn’t capable of more. Dad had enjoyed handling cases himself with the plan to train me later. In the year since his death, no one had come knocking, and going through the motions of what I knew how to do well had been hard enough. Now this lady was here for my father’s help. I couldn’t turn her away. I raked my fingers through the top of my shoulder length hair and opened the door. “Come in.”

“Bless you.” She slid her umbrella closed and brushed past me.

After securing the lock, I led her through the small reception area and into my office. A bathroom and another office that substituted for a storage closet were down the long hallway heading to the rear exit. Floyd decided to take interest and lumbered over. With his butt in the air, he stretched at her feet before nearly snuffling my soon-to-be client’s shoe up his nose. She nodded at him before vicious Floyd found his way back to his corner, tail swaying behind him. Guess he approved.

The woman looked in her mid-sixties. She had coiffed hair the color of burnt almonds, high cheekbones, and a prominent nose. She reminded me of my middle school librarian who could get you to shut up with one glance. “Would you like coffee, Ms…?”

“No thank you. It’s Hanson.” She settled in the red vinyl chair across from my dad’s beaten and scarred desk. “Georgette Hanson.”

My skin tingled when she said her name.

“My condolences on your father,” she said.

“Thank you.” Her words were simple, and expected, but her eyes held pain. Having lost her daughter, she clearly could relate.

“How did it happen?” she asked.

I swallowed again. With as many people as I’d had to tell, it should be getting easier. It wasn’t. “Stroke. Were you a former client of my father’s?”

She waved her hand. “Something like that.” She lifted the briefcase to her lap and popped the latch. Her eyes softened. “He was a fine man. You look just like him.”

My confident, broad-shouldered, Welshman father had been quite fit and handsome in his youth. Most of my adult life he’d carried an extra fifty pounds, but that never undermined his strong chin, wise blue eyes, and thick chestnut hair. I’d been blessed with my Dad’s eyes and hair and had my mom’s round chin. But since I’d ballooned a couple of sizes while pregnant with Mitz, I knew which version she thought I resembled. “What were you hoping he could do for you with regards to your daughter?”

“Find out why she’s dead.” Georgette shoved a paper dated a few weeks ago onto the desk and snapped the case lid closed.

A picture of a young woman with a warm smile, a button nose, and long wavy brunette hair sat below the fold on the front page under the headline: WOMAN STRUCK BY MAX TRAIN DIES.

I winced at the thought of her violent end. “I’m sorry. Such a pretty girl.”

“She was perfect.” Georgette pulled off her gloves, her eyes brimming. “The train destroyed that. Do you know what a train does to a hundred-pound woman?” Her voice trembled.

To avoid envisioning the impact, I replaced it with the smiling face of Mitz, my eight-year-old daughter. Which made it worse. If anything ever happened to her… How Georgette wasn’t a puddle on the Formica eluded me. I took a minute to read the story. According to the article, Brooke Hanson fell from the sidewalk into the path of an oncoming MAX train downtown at Ninth and Morrison Street. The police reported alcohol was a contributing factor. “They detained the sole witness who found her, Jay Nightingale. Why?” I set the paper down.

Georgette brushed her hair away from her forehead flashing nails chewed to the quick. “At first, the police thought he had something to do with her fall. He told them he’d seen my Brooke stumble down the sidewalk and teeter on the edge of the curb. Supposedly, he called out the train was coming and she didn’t hear him. He made no effort to get her away from those tracks. When the autopsy showed she’d been drinking, they wrote her death off as an accident, released Mr. Nightingale, and closed the case.”

Their decision couldn’t have been that cut and dry. “How much had she been drinking?”

“You sound like the police.” Georgette lifted her chin and met my gaze. There are many stages to grief. One of them anger, another denial. Georgette straddled both, something I knew plenty about. “Not sure…exactly. You’ll have to check the report.”

I scanned her face for the truth. “You don’t know or you’re afraid to tell me?”

She massaged the palm of her hand with her thumb. “The bartender at the Limbo said she’d had a few before he’d cut her off and asked her to leave. None of that matters because Nightingale’s lying. He had something to do with her fall. He may have even pushed her. At the very least, he knows more than he’s telling.”

My eyebrows raised. The police weren’t perfect, but they had solid procedures in death investigations. They would have explored that angle. “What are you basing that on?”

“My gut.”

A mother’s intuition while undeniable, alone didn’t prove foul play. “Did the MAX operator see Mr. Nightingale next to her at any point?”

“He didn’t even see her because the area wasn’t well lit.”

“Do you have his name?”

“Chris Foley.”

I jotted the information down. “What do the train’s cameras show?”

“There weren’t any. And no passenger statements because the train was done for the night. But Brooke shouldn’t have even been in the vicinity of that train.”

“Where is the Limbo located?”

“Ten blocks from where she was hit.”

A half mile, give or take. “Could she have been heading to catch the MAX to go home?”

“Brooke detested mass transit. The people who ride during the day scared her. She wouldn’t go there at night. Besides, she lived south of town. The train wouldn’t have taken her there.” She sighed. “I’m telling you, she wouldn’t be that far from the bar unless someone…” She closed her eyes.

Georgette talked in circles attempting to make sense of it all, but I had first-hand knowledge of drunk people doing things out of character. Given what she’d described, I could understand why the police had closed the matter. Even so, her devastation gripped my heart. And something had brought her out on this rainy Friday. “What are you holding back, Ms. Hanson? Why do you feel so strongly Mr. Nightingale was involved that you’d come to my dad for help?”

She stared at her hands as if they held the answers. “Brooke had changed in the last year. Become more distant. Not visiting. Missing our weekly calls.” The corner of her mouth turned upward in a sad smile. “We used to go for pie once a month. She loved pie. Apple pie. Cherry pie.” Her smile melted. “One day she was too busy and couldn’t get away. When she did, she didn’t look well. Stressed.”

“Did she say what was bothering her?”

“No. She shut me out, which she’d never done before. Now to have been killed by a train downtown when that Nightingale fellow was close enough to stop it from happening? He’s involved. I can feel it.” She straightened. “Until I know what happened that night, I won’t rest.” Georgette reached into her purse and produced an envelope grasped in her right hand. “Here’s three thousand for you to find the truth. Please say you’ll help me.”

Despite steady work from a few law firms around town, and an adequate divorce settlement, being a single mom often meant more month than money. Georgette was offering twice what I made in a good month of process serving and that would go a long way in taking care of my little girl. Not needing to ever rely on my ex would have been incentive alone, but there was more to it than that.

I’d recognized Georgette’s name the moment she’d said it. At the reading of my dad’s will, his lawyer had handed me a handwritten letter. It was a request from my dad that if a Georgette Hanson ever came to his door asking for help, I should assist and not ask questions why. It had meant nothing at the time. I’d figured it was due to his unending dedication to his clients.

Because Georgette had a connection to my dad in some capacity, that sealed my decision to at least try and help her. While I’d been directed not to ask questions, even he would have needed the obvious one answered before he took her money.

“You said she’d changed. Is there any chance she might have…I mean, was she depressed? Could she have stepped…”

Georgette cut me off. “Stop.” Her eyes grew wide with denial and the damn broke. Tears poured over her cheeks; her shoulders shook, buckling from the weight of her anguish. The anger and determination she’d used as a mask crumbled, and each passing second exposed another layer of her gut-wrenching grief.

I shifted at witnessing her raw emotion, bracing myself against my own around my father, and my thoughts on Mitz. Tears stung my eyes, unsure how to comfort my client when I struggled to do that for myself.

She muffled a wail with the back of her hand and finally drew in deep breaths until the sobs subsided.

I grabbed a box of Kleenex behind me. She already had a handful of tissue ready from her purse. I’d back off the notion of suicide—for the moment. The woman didn’t need any more distress than she’d already endured.

She sniffed hard a couple of times and sopped up her face with the tissue. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I swiped under my eyes with my fingers, gaining control over my thoughts. “I’m not sure I’ll uncover anything new, but I will look for you.”

“Thank you.” She composed herself and stuffed the tissue back in her purse for the next inevitable breakdown.

I handed Georgette one of my dad’s old contracts, explaining my hourly rate, and a couple of authorization forms that might come in handy if requesting any case files was necessary.

She signed her name without bothering to read the fine print. She stood, the vinyl chair screeching against the hardwood floor startling Floyd. Her expression softened. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-two.”

“Brooke was a couple of years older, but pretty, like you and with the same flowing brown hair and kind eyes.” She sniffed. “I came to Roger because he could get to the heart of things. If you’re like him, you’ll find out what happened to my baby.”

I’d never be as good as my dad, but I did possess his mule-like stubbornness to get to the bottom of things. My ex could attest to that. “I’ll do what I can.”

She nodded. “Brooke was a good girl. She loved animals, ran every morning, and worked for the law firm Anderson, Hiefield & Price. She was the head accountant there.” Her face beamed with pride before her chin trembled again, but she held it together.

“It might help if I get a better sense of who she was.” I slid the legal pad to her. “If I could get her address, I’d like to start there.”

Georgette jotted the information down and pushed it back to me. She dug into her purse and produced the key. “I haven’t brought myself to go there yet.”

I gave her a sympathetic smile. “Are there family or friends I should start with?”

“Besides my husband, Chester, there’s just her sister, Hannah, who lives in Seattle. They weren’t close.” Georgette cleared her throat. “She never spoke to me about friends or boyfriends. Honestly, with her work schedule, she didn’t have time for any.”

With my own social life lacking, I related. “Do you have her cell? I’d like to check who she had on speed dial.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t among her belongings.”

What thirty-something didn’t have their phone glued to them? Unless the impact of the train threw it. Another image I pushed away. I rounded my desk and walked her out of my office.

“Please keep in touch on how the investigation is going,” she said.

I assured her I would. She squeezed my arm to thank me as she left. With a twist of the deadbolt, I rested my shoulder against the door and closed my eyes. Mitz would get hugged a little closer tonight.

At my desk, Floyd trotted over and sat at my feet. He rested his chin on my lap while I added a few more notes. His sixth sense of when I needed him never faltered. I tucked the notes, along with a couple of divorce petitions into my bag to serve in between outings with Mitz.

It was early enough to get to Brooke’s place, about twenty minutes away, and to the grocery store so Mitz and I weren’t eating PB&Js for dinner. The faster I got started and found answers, the sooner Georgette could begin healing. If I was lucky, Brooke’s phone would be sitting on her nightstand waiting to be found.

Before getting up, I pulled the letter from my dad out of the top drawer and unfolded the paper. I traced the ruts in the desk we shared with my finger as I read his words. Georgette’s name was there in black and white. I had wanted to ask her more about how she knew my dad, but he’d been explicit in his request. He was a good man, albeit a tough man that I didn’t question. Nor had I ever felt the need to. It hadn’t been easy for him after my mom died, and we became the Two Musketeers. We may have run out of time for him to teach me everything he knew about being a P.I., but I’d learn as I went. I had no other choice. Helping Georgette was the last thing I could do for him. And I would.

“Ready to boogie, Floyd?” I flicked off the lights and Floyd padded behind me down the narrow hall to the backdoor.

We jogged to my yellow 1980 Triumph Spitfire, a gift from my dad when I graduated. “You know the routine, buddy.” Floyd stretched himself halfway into the car, and with a grunt, I lifted in his other half. He tripped over the manual gearshift and settled into the passenger seat as I slunk behind the wheel. The engine started right up, for a change.

Brooke was a couple of years older than me—far too young to die. Was Nightingale involved in her death? Did he know more than he was telling? Or was he just a helpless bystander who could only watch Brooke fall because she was drunk off her ass? I had a feeling I’d be returning the bulk of Georgette’s money after putting in some legwork. With a case the Portland police had already closed and an eyewitness who’d already been cleared, what other possibility was there?

***

Excerpt from Derailed by Mary Keliikoa. Copyright 2020 by Mary Keliikoa. Reproduced with permission from Mary Keliikoa. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Mary Keliikoa

Mary Keliikoa spent the first 18 years of her adult life working around lawyers. Combining her love of all things legal and books, she creates a twisting mystery where justice prevails. She has had a short story published in Woman’s World and is the author of the PI Kelly Pruett Mystery Series.

At home in Washington, she enjoys spending time with her family and her writing companions/fur-kids. When not at home, you can find Mary on a beach on the Big Island where she and her husband recharge. But even under the palm trees and blazing sun she’s plotting her next murder—novel that is.

Catch Up With Mary Keliikoa:
MaryKeliikoa.com, Goodreads, BookBub, Instagram, Twitter, & Facebook!

 

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!



 

 

GIVEAWAY!:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Mary Keliikoa. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on September 1, 2020 and runs through October 2, 2020. Void where prohibited.

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Midnight Blue Over Mexico by D S Land #DSLand #booksfromthebacklog

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Books from the Backlog is a fun way to feature some of those neglected books sitting on your bookshelf unread.  If you are anything like me, you might be surprised by some of the unread books hiding in your stacks.

If you would like to join in, swing by Carole’s Random Life in Books.

Mexico…I love to travel. And look at that cover…I think it may be a stormy trip.

Midnight Blue over Mexico

Amazon / Goodreads

GOODREADS BLURB

iscovery has its consequences.

June Rise and Tim Scott believe they’ve discovered a new cause for global warming. But when they travel to Mexico to confirm their theories, events take a demented turn – and fast. Tim vanishes, and soon June is on the run, framed for murder and the target of a deadly conspiracy. With her life on the line and catastrophic events looming, she is forced to take drastic measures in an attempt to reveal the discovery to the world. But will she succeed? Or will the discovery remain hidden forever – claiming June as a victim in the process?

From Seattle to Mexico, D.C. to Georgia, D.S. Land’s debut thriller is a fast-paced, action-packed ride that challenges perceptions of global warming and explores the never-ending depths of greed.

Goodreads rating: 3.24  ·  38 ratings  ·  8 reviews

Midnight Blue Over Mexico is D S Land’s first and only novel, so I am really curious now. Mexico…a discovery…global warming…why haven’t I read this? I added this to my reading shelf on 10.9.12, but actually got it through Amazon on 8.8.12. I love books that deal with real life issues that I am concerned about and global warming is a big one. I love the water, whether it’s pools, oceans, rivers, creeks, ponds, or the birdbath in my backyard, so anything that affects that concerns me. I’m glad I am doing this meme, because I am finding books that I really want to read and forgot about.

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Giveaway – Shameless by Sybil Bartel @SybilBarte @XpressoTours

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Shameless
Sybil Bartel
(Alpha Bodyguard #8)
Publication date: July 17th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Bodyguard.

Shadow.

Warrior.

The Marines trained me to be a weapon. Tactical warfare was in my blood. I didn’t think twice when I was deployed for the fifth time because I was born battle ready. Then a mission went south and left me with a medical discharge.

Too many years downrange, I didn’t fit in the civilian world. Taking a job with the best security firm in the business seemed like a solid plan…until I was assigned babysitting duty for a spoiled little rich girl. The only thing worse than the assignment was the client’s smart mouth. She thought she could run it—all over me—and not suffer the consequences. She was wrong.

Now she was about to find out how shameless a bodyguard could be.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT:

“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered into the empty SUV as I pulled up to the bullshit rehab place that was more like a five-star resort and laid eyes on the woman standing out front.

Grabbing my phone, I scrolled to the most recent pic of the client, even though I knew what the hell she looked like. I’d had the displeasure of meeting her almost a year ago.

Blonde, stacked, smirking at the camera, her image played me.

I glanced back at the brunette in front of the rehab place who was standing next to two suitcases in fifty degree temps without a coat. Her ass hanging out in hot pants, boots up to her knees, stomach-baring shirt, she’d put on twenty pounds of perfect curves. Flipping her mane of wavy hair that was just begging to be fisted, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot as she glared at the Escalade.

Fuck my life, she looked like the last brunette I was stupid enough to sink my dick into.

Slowing the SUV to a stop, I put the passenger window down and leveled her with a look.

You?” Summer Amherst asked in disgust.

Author Bio:

Sybil Bartel grew up in Northern California with her head in a book and her feet in the sand. She dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew her into the world of storytelling. She loves the New Adult genre, but any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes her swoon.

Sybil now resides in Southern Florida and while she doesn’t get to read as much as she likes, she still buries her toes in the sand. If she isn’t writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in her backyard, you can find her spending time with her handsomely tattooed husband, her brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…

But Seriously?

Here are ten things you probably really want to know about Sybil.

She grew up a faculty brat. She can swear like a sailor. She loves men in uniform. She hates being told what to do. She can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks her out. Her favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—she can’t decide. She has a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on her for driving directions, ever. And she has a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell her husband.

To find out more about Sybil Bartel, be sure to follow her on Twitter (she loves to hear about your favorite book boyfriend!), visit her website, like her on Facebook or join her Facebook group Book Boyfriend Heroes for exclusive excerpts and giveaways.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram


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Jimmy Buffett At Home During Covid-19 @jimmybuffett

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Happy Monday everyone and welcome back to Music Monday! Let’s share some songs we’ve been enjoying lately!  If you would like to play, and I really hope you do, please see the rules and link up below HERE

And here’s what he has been working on while isolated at home.

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Giveaway – Issued by Paris Wynters @ParisWynters @CaffeinatedPR

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Today I am excited to spotlight Issued the first novel in the Navy SEALs of Little Creek, a contemporary romance series by Paris Wynters. Fans of the marriage and arrangement trope will love this steamy new series.

Issued 



She needs a total life reboot…even if it means marrying a stranger

Taya Maverick has just volunteered to marry a random Navy SEAL as part of the military’s new spouse-matching program. What other choice does she have? Her former best friend killed her father and torched her house. Taya’s determined to start over, but to be safe she has to disappear. The program is the perfect opportunity, complete with refuge and a built-in bodyguard. Her Navy SEAL husband can keep her safe, right?

After one spectacularly disastrous marriage, Jim Stephens nixes round two. But his commanding officer never accepts no for an order. While an injury may have sidelined him temporarily, Jim still needs to salvage his career after a mistake in combat puts him in leadership’s cross-hairs. Being the first in the pilot program guarantees him his rank and eventual active duty clearance…as long as he can last the trial year.

The I dos are barely uttered before Jim and Taya realize they’ve each miscalculated. Their sizzling chemistry might lead to bed, but neither is prepared to open their heart. And then Taya’s past comes knocking…


Read An Excerpt


We watch for a beat or two, the sight of the princess issuing her not-so-subtle ultimatum bringing a genuine smile to my face. “I used to have a thing for Mary Crosby. Hell, I still have a thing for Mary Crosby.” “Didn’t she play on Dallas?” “She basically made the show.” “Wow. That’s quite a claim.” I knock her hand aside when she makes a grab for more popcorn, and one of my brows raise. The woman who shot J.R. made television history. “And by ‘claim,’ I mean ‘an accurate and astute observation.’” The corner of her mouth lifts in an almost-smile when I release my buttery hostage. “Tell me more about your obsession with Ms. Crosby.” “Mrs. Brodka,” I correct absently. “And it’s not an obsession. I just appreciate the classics.” “Are we talking about the movie or the actress?” My face heats when she lets loose a bark of laugher. “I was talking about the movie. It’s a good movie. Sue me.” “You’re preaching to the choir, sweetheart. They don’t make space operas like they used to.” I hesitate before sticking my big toe down the rabbit hole. “Have you ever seen Firefly?” “I’m sorry? I’m alive and breathing, aren’t I? When I think about cinematic tragedies, canceling Firefly is right up there with the remake of Total Recall and the existence of Jurassic sharks.” “Sharknado haunts my dreams.” “I saw the movie and it left me feeling personally disrespected. You know there’s a movie called Aliens vs. Avatars?” Settling deeper into the couch, Taya leans her head against my shoulder. The remnants of a grin linger around her mouth, and I want to lean in and kiss the vestiges away. My throat tightens. The weekend has not been kind, but for now, everything in my world is good and right. Is it wrong to want the feeling to last? Dumbass. Taya spends the next few minutes explaining which sci-fi movies she believes should be classified as acts of terrorism. I don’t always agree, but listening to the animated way she shreds plotlines and decimates directors and actors alike makes me wary of disagreeing. Her face lights up and she actively involves her hands the more passionate she becomes, and I can’t bring myself to look away. It’s as if I’ve been placed under some sort of spell and the world is moving in molasses around me while my heart races along. Listening to the sound of Taya’s voice is more satisfying than any ocean wave I can imagine. Righter than any curve I could master on my bike. The credits scroll across the screen, darkening the room. Taya angles her body to face me, one knee propped on the couch and her head canted sideways on the cushions. I mimicked her position at some point, and the intimacy of being face to face, separated by only a handful of inches further stirs up emotions that have been building, but that I don’t want to examine too closely because they are new and terrifying. They feel like soap bubbles. Swimming in iridescent color and too fragile to live, and that the slightest prod will make them burst. “Katniss has nothing on my emee, though.” Taya rolls her eyes, waving a dismissive hand in the air. “Huh?” “With the bow and arrow.” Taya searches my face, concern etched in her features. “You okay?” My fingers tug at the extra material around the leg of my Wranglers. Shit. She probably thinks I zoned out from my TBI. “Yeah, fine. So, your grandmother was a professional archer?” “In a way. Archery and horsemanship are part of Mongolian culture. Did you know many of the warriors in Genghis Khan’s army were women? Though, according to my grandfather, I inherited more of my father’s side than my mother’s. Of course, the comment was made after I accidentally shot him in the foot with an arrow.” I laugh so hard, my head whips backward. “Let me guess, your father’s side can’t cook, either.” Taya gently kicks me in the thigh, the corners of her lips curling up. I grab hold of her, so she can’t pull away, and rest her foot in my lap. When her smile fades around the edges and she clears her throat, I worry I might have screwed things up somehow without even trying.

About the Author


Paris Wynters is an adult romance author repped by Tricia Skinner at Fuse Literary. She lives on Long Island in New York with her family, which includes two psychotic working dogs. Paris is a graduate of Loyola University Chicago. Paris and her son are nationally certified Search and Rescue personnel (she is a canine handler). She is a huge supporter of the military/veteran community. When not writing, Paris enjoys playing XBOX (she is a huge HALO fanatic and also enjoys FORTNITE), watching hockey (Go Islanders), and trying new things like flying planes and taking trapeze classes. 



Navy SEALs of Little Creek Series


Available September 1, 2020



Enter the Giveaway

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Giveaway – The Diary of a Late Bloomer by L M L Gill @XpressoTours

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The Diary of a Late Bloomer; A quirky coming of age novel
L.M.L Gil
Publication date: June 29th 2020
Genres: Coming of Age, New Adult, Romance, Sports

Every wallflower blooms at their own perfect time, but some like quirky Lo, take longer than others.

Lo is a sheltered 20-year-old who loves baking, manga/anime, and octopi. When she spots her college swim team’s tryout flyer sporting her favorite sea creature, an octopus she knows it’s a sign that she must join the Flying Octopi. The only things standing her way are her social awkward nature and the fact that she just learned to swim.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo


EXCERPT

“I feel like the world is spinning around me,” I said.
“That’s what it’s like to be drunk,” Nick commented.
“Yes, but I also mean in general, even before drinking. My mom and dad are arguing at night. They never argued before. My mom complains and my dad stays silent. That’s the norm.”
“I feel sorry for your dad,” Nick made a face.
“I guess. I’m worried that they’ll get divorced.” I hadn’t even acknowledged the fear to myself.
“It happens,” was all he said to comfort me.
“Not to my family,” I protested.
“If you say so,” he shrugged.
“I think my brother is lonely but I don’t know how to help him have friends.”
“He’ll be fine. Plus, he didn’t seem lonely to me,” Nick replied. “You’re a talkative drunk, aren’t you?”
“I’ve never been drunk before. And Martin’s mad at me because I said stupid things,” I complained.
“If Marlin knows you, he should know most of the stuff that comes out for mouth is dumb,” he grumbled.
“I’m scared,” I wasn’t sure if my fear was of being drunk or just in general.
“You won’t die so stop with the melodrama.”
“But I feel like I’m in a tunnel,” I was having tunnel vision.
“That’s because we are,” he sighed.
“Nick, can I ask you for a favor?”
“You want more from me than an escort home in a taxi?” he glared at me. “What favor do you want?”
“Can you hold my hand?” I looked at his hands, “I know you don’t like people touching you.”
He chuckled. “What makes you say that?”
“You always avoid hugs and handshakes,” I replied.
“You’re observant,” he scrunched up his nose. “People are dirty.”
He reached over and grabbed my sweaty and sticky hand.
His nose scrunched up even more, but he didn’t complain.
The warmth of his hand calmed the nausea. He held my hand the whole ride and only let go to pay the driver.

Author Bio:

L.M.L. Gil is a writer, a reader, and a dreamer.

When she is not writing, editing, or thinking about her next story, she is either in the kitchen testing out a new recipe or snuggling with her fur munchkins reading.

As a glutton, she equates a good novel to a scrumptious dessert, which leaves your heart a little lighter and a smile on your face.

She hopes her novels provide a sweet treat without the calories

Website


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New Release – Snowed Under by Mary Feliz @maryfelizauthor @dollycas

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Snowed Under (A Maggie McDonald Mystery)
by Mary Feliz

About Snowed Under 


Snowed Under (A Maggie McDonald Mystery)
Cozy Mystery
6th in Series
Publisher: Lyrical Press (June 9, 2020)
250 Pages
Digital ASIN: B07WBY669T

When professional organizer Maggie McDonald finds a body in a snowdrift outside her friend’s ski cabin, she must plow through the clues to find a cold-blooded killer . . .

Lake Tahoe in February is beautiful, but Maggie can’t see a thing as she drives through a blinding blizzard with her friend Tess Olmos and their dogs, golden retriever Belle and German shepherd Mozart.Maggie has offered her professional decluttering skills to help Tess tidy up her late husband’s cabin in preparation to sell. She also plans to get in some skiing when her husband Max and their boys join them later in the week.

What she doesn’t plan on is finding a boot in a snowdrift attached to a corpse. The frozen stiff turns out to be Tess’s neighbor, Dev Bailey, who disappeared two months ago. His widow Leslie expresses grief, but Maggie can’t help but wonder if it’s a snow job. As more suspects start to pile up, things go downhill fast, and Maggie must keep her cool to solve the murder before the killer takes a powder . . .

About Mary Feliz

Mary Feliz writes the Maggie McDonald Mysteries featuring a Silicon Valley professional organizer and her sidekick golden retriever. She’s worked for Fortune 500 firms and mom and pop enterprises, competed in whale boat races and done synchronized swimming. She attends organizing conferences in her character’s stead, but Maggie’s skills leave her in the dust.

Author Links: Website – Blog – Facebook – Twitter

Purchase Links: 

Amazon     B&N  Kobo   Google Books     Kensington

TOUR PARTICIPANTS

June 9 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

June 9 – Christy’s Cozy Corners – CHARACTER INTERVIEW

June 9 – I’m Into Books – SPOTLIGHT

June 10 – My Reading Journeys – REVIEW

June 10 – StoreyBook Reviews – GUEST POST

June 10 – The Power of Words – REVIEW

June 11 – Sneaky the Library Cat’s Blog – CHARACTER INTERVIEW

June 11 – Mysteries with Character – REVIEW

June 11 – Books a Plenty Book Reviews – REVIEW

June 12 – Hearts & Scribbles – SPOTLIGHT

June 12 – Jane Reads – GUEST POST

June 13 – Christa Reads and Writes – REVIEW

June 13 – eBook Addicts – SPOTLIGHT

June 13 – Brianne’s Book Reviews – REVIEW

June 14 – Diane Reviews Books – REVIEW, CHARACTER INTERVIEW

June 14 – Gimme The Scoop Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

June 15 – This Is My Truth Now – REVIEW, AUTHOR INTERVIEW

June 15 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT

June 15 – Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers – SPOTLIGHT

June 16 – Celticlady’s Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

June 16 – My Journey Back – CHARACTER GUEST POST

June 17 – Ascroft, eh? – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

June 17 – fundinmental – SPOTLIGHT

June 17 – Island Confidential – SPOTLIGHT

June 17 – Moonlight Rendezvous– REVIEW, GUEST POST

June 18 – View from the Birdhouse – REVIEW

June 18 – Literary Gold – CHARACTER GUEST POST

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