Category Archives: Excerpt

Giveaway – Covert In Cairo by Kelly Oliver @partnersincr1me @kellyoliverbook

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Covert in Cairo by Kelly Oliver Banner

Covert in Cairo

by Kelly Oliver

April 24 – May 19, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Covert in Cairo by Kelly Oliver

1917 Cairo.

Ancient mummies aren’t the only bodies buried in the tombs of Cairo.

The notorious Fredrick Fredricks has lured Fiona to Egypt with a cryptic threat on the Suez Canal.

But when a cheeky French archeologist is murdered, and an undercover British agent goes missing, the threat moves closer to home.

Is the notorious Fredrick Fredricks behind the murders? Or is the plot even more sinister?

Competing excavators, jealous husbands, secret lovers, and belligerent spies are the leading suspects.

As they dig deeper, soon Fiona and Kitty are up to their donkeys in dead bodies.

If they can’t unwind the clues and catch the killer, they might end up sharing a sarcophagus with Nefertiti.

With humor as dry as the Arabian desert, and pacing as fast as a spitting camel, Fiona and Kitty are back in another sparkling adventure, this time in WW1 Egypt.

PRAISE FOR FIONA FIGG:

“Perfect for fans of Downton Abbey and Maisie Dobbs.”
BookTrib

“Tantalizing and riveting with a good dose of humor while keeping the heartbreaking reality of war in the mix.”
The Los Angeles Post

“A clever mix of humor and espionage that will keep you turning the pages and laughing all the way!”
Dianne Freeman, author the Countess of Harleigh mysteries.

“A perfect blend of wit, fun, and intrigue.”
Debra Goldstein, Author of the Sarah Blair Cozy Mysteries

“The perfect wartime spy: Fiona Figg. Smart, sneaky, and full of surprises… A fun whodunit that will keep you turning the pages!”
Cathi Stoler, author of The Murder On The Rocks Mysteries

“Fun, easy-to-read, witty mystery that had me happily turning the pages.”
Melissa’s Bookshelf

“Humor, action, and intrigue. I found myself thoroughly entertained.”
Urban Book Reviews

Covert in Cairo Trailer:

Book Details:

Genre: Cozy Mystery
Published by: Boldwood Books
Publication Date: April 2023
Number of Pages: 300
ISBN: Coming Soon
Series: A Fiona Figg & Kitty Lane Mystery, 2 (These are Stand-Alone Mysteries)
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

This bloody war had taught me nothing was black and white… except perhaps a strong cup of tea with milk, when you could get it.

My mouth was parched, and my bottom bounced on the hard wooden bench I shared with Captain Clifford Douglas, my glorified chaperone. I glanced over at our carriage companions, Miss Kitty Lane—whom I’d known until a week ago as Eliza Baker—and a stranger who leaned against the wooden armrest, reading.

The Egyptian railway carriages were white wooden trollies. Nothing like the black iron horses back home. Deuced hot, too. The soot flooding in through the window was the same, though. British or Egyptian. It didn’t matter. We all choked on the same smoke.

As the carriage clacked along the tracks through the desert from Alexandria to Cairo, I distracted myself with Annie Pirie’s The Pyramids of Giza. Book in one hand, I held a lavender-scented handkerchief to my nose with the other.

Annie Pirie claimed it was under one of these grand pyramids that she’d met her future husband while they were both laid up with food poisoning. Having nursed soldiers suffering from that very same affliction back at Charing Cross Hospital, I didn’t find anything romantic about the squalls of salmonella.

Still, there was nothing like the vulnerability of the body to move the soul.

Why not fall in love over a bedpan?

After all, I’d met Archie Somersby when he was convalescing with a shot-up arm. He’d asked me to help him write a letter to his mother. So sweet. Writing to his mum.

My cheeks burned. Oh, Archie. Would I ever see him again? Did I want to see him again, now that I knew he was a government-sponsored assassin? When I closed my eyes, I could still smell his citrus cologne mixed with the lingering scent of Kenilworth cigarettes.

I dropped The Pyramids of Giza on the seat next to me and withdrew a fan from my purse. Even with the windows open, it was beastly hot, and the desert seemed to go on forever. Winter in Egypt was a far cry from the chilly dampness of London or the snow in New York.

No. I couldn’t allow myself to think of Archie. Dead or alive.

Instead, I looked out of the window.

Oblivious to the carriage’s shaking and clattering, with her legs stretched across the bench seat, Kitty had her nose buried in the latest issue of Vogue fashion magazine. Wearing dark glasses, a flowing pink chiffon skirt dotted with tiny roses, a white blouse with pearl buttons, and an adorable sailor hat, she looked the part of a fashion model herself.

Poppy, the girl’s Pekingese, had a pink ribbon in her topknot that matched her owner’s outfit perfectly. The furry nuisance sprawled across Clifford’s lap, her outstretched paw touching my knee. Only because the animal had rescued me from imprisonment in a loo on my last mission did I indulge her encroachment on my person.

Clifford was another matter. Indulging him often tried my patience. Captain Clifford Douglas had been sent along by the War Office to chaperone us, despite the fact I’d already completed four missions. And Kitty, well, for all I knew, she was an assassin in petticoats.

While engrossed in his hunting magazine and fantasies of killing, at least Clifford was quiet for a change.

“I say!” Clifford looked up from his magazine.

Blast. I knew it was too good to be true.

“Gezira Sporting Club has fox hunts with English hounds.” Clifford beamed. “Do you ladies fancy a hunt?”

My eyes met Kitty’s and we both laughed.

“We’re not in Arabia for sports.” I scolded him. “Hunting.” I gestured from Clifford to Kitty. “Fashion… You’d think we were on holiday instead of…” I glanced over at the stranger in our compartment. “Instead of on business.”

If it hadn’t been for the stranger sharing our compartment, I would have chastised my companions. While I was busy preparing for our mission by studying guidebooks, they were faffing about with pretty dresses, gruesome blood sports, and fussing over a spoiled little dog.

“You can tell our priorities by our reading material.” I held up my book. “Mine is written by a scholar and a lady explorer.” I nodded for emphasis. “She—”

“If you want to get to know a people,” the stranger interrupted, “study their poetry.”

I sat blinking at him. His English was heavily accented, but I didn’t recognize the accent. And yet there was something familiar about his voice.

“You must read Hafez Ibrahim, poet of the Nile.” The stranger opened both his hands in offering. He clasped his hands together in prayer.

“Do I know you, sir?” Clifford dislodged the pipe from his mouth.

There was something uncanny about the man. I too had the uneasy sense of déjà vu.

“You don’t even know yourself,” the stranger scoffed. “If you English can’t make yourselves welcome with arrogant promises of freedom, you resort to armored tanks and Vickers machine guns.” His mustaches quivered.

“Well, I say,” Clifford huffed. “No need to be rude.” He tugged on the bottom of his jacket. Good old reliable Clifford. Quick to defend king and country… and any women within a twenty-mile radius.

“Those hunting hounds were brought here to fulfill your countrymen’s desire to turn every place into their homeland.” When the stranger waved his arms, the loose sleeve of his jacket danced a frenetic jig. “They died from the heat.” His dark eyes flashed. “Let that be a lesson to you.”

“Look here, whoever you are.” Clifford stood up. “This is no way to talk in front of the ladies.”

Good heavens. I hoped Clifford didn’t do something stupid like challenge this fellow to a duel or punch him in the nose.

The carriage swayed and Clifford fell back onto the seat, nearly landing in my lap.

“Now, now.” I patted Clifford’s arm. “The ladies can defend themselves, thank you.”

The stranger held up his book. “Here, you must learn Arabic if you want to do anything but see yourselves reflected in a mirror of your own hubris.” He stood up. “Since Egypt was occupied by the French before the English, you’ll get by passably well with French.” He opened the door to the compartment. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I, too, have work in Cairo.”

As he crossed the threshold, a folded paper fell out of his book.

I reached down and picked it up. The paper was heavy and thick.

“You dropped something,” I said to the closed door.

The stranger had vanished.

“What is it?” Kitty said.

“I say.” Clifford snatched it from my hands and snapped it open. “Why, it’s a map!”

“Heavens.” I gazed down at it. “Not just any map.” I grabbed it back.

A map of the Suez Canal. Marked with a big black X. 

***

Excerpt from Covert in Cairo by Kelly Oliver. Copyright 2023 by Kelly Oliver. Reproduced with permission from Kelly Oliver. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Kelly Oliver

Kelly Oliver is the award-winning and bestselling author of three mystery series: the seven-book suspense series, The Jessica James Mysteries; the three-book middle grade kids’ series, Pet Detective Mysteries; and the four-book historical cozy series, The Fiona Figg Mysteries, inspired by those trips to the Green Hills Library.

Currently, Kelly is the Vice President of Sisters in Crime.

When she’s not writing novels, Kelly is a Distinguished Professor of Philosophy at Vanderbilt University.

To learn more about Kelly and her books, go to:
www.kellyoliverbooks.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @KellyOliverBook
Instagram – @kellyoliverbook
Twitter – @kellyoliverbook
Facebook – @kellyoliverauthor

 

 

Tour Participants:

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

 

 

JOIN IN ON THE GIVEAWAY:

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Kelly Oliver. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

 

  • You can see my Giveaways HERE.
  • You can see my Reviews HERE.
  • If you like what you see, why don’t you follow me?
  • Look on the right sidebar and let’ talk.
  • Leave your link in the comments and I will drop by to see what’s shakin’.
  • I am an Amazon affiliate/product images are linked.
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Giveaway – Thunder Road by Colin Holmes @partnersincr1me @bycolinholmes

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Thunder Road by Colin Holmes Banner

Thunder Road

by Colin Holmes

May 1 – 26, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

In this gamble, more than a few poker chips are at stake.

When an Army Air Force Major vanishes from his Top Secret job at the Fort Worth airbase in the summer of 1947, down-on-his-luck former Ranger Jefferson Sharp is hired to find him, because the Major owes a sizable gambling debt to a local mobster. The search takes Sharp from the hideaway poker rooms of Fort Worth’s Thunder Road, to the barren ranch lands of New Mexico, to secret facilities under construction in the Nevada desert.

Lethal operatives and an opaque military bureaucracy stand in his way, but when he finds an otherworldly clue and learns President Truman is creating a new Central Intelligence Agency and splitting the Air Force from the Army, Sharp begins to connect dots. And those dots draw a straight line to a conspiracy aiming to cover up a secret that is out of this world—literally so.

Praise for Thunder Road:

“This genre-defying and enormously entertaining romp is Mickey Spillane meets Whitley Strieber meets Woody Allen. I can’t remember when I’ve had so much plain old fun reading a book and just didn’t want it to end.”
~ Historical Novel Society, Editor’s Choice

“Sparkling 1940’s dialogue, wry humor, an unpredictable yet coherent storyline, and a breezy style all his own, make Colin Holmes’ somewhat spooky novel, Thunder Road, a winner. I’ll be on the lookout for his next novel.”
~ Rob Leininger, author of Killing Suki Flood and the Mortimer Angel “Gumshoe” series

“[In this] intriguing debut . . . clear crisp prose . . . morphs from a western into a detective story with an overlay of conspiracy theories.”
~ Publishers Weekly

“. . . one of the best mysteries I’ve ever read. The plot, characterization, timing, setting, dialogue, and tension was spot on. Love the noir feel of the past. Have to admit the ending twist caught me by surprise. Well done..”
~ Larry Enmon, author of Class III Threat, City of Fear, and The Burial Place

Book Details:

Genre: Noir Mystery
Published by: CamCat Books
Publication Date: February 15, 2022
Number of Pages: 384
ISBN: 9780744304978 (ISBN10: 0744304970)
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | CamCat Books

Read an excerpt:

A thin flicker of flame licked the blue enamel coffeepot as Jefferson Sharp stirred life into the embers of last night’s campfire. He broke his morning stare and cocked his head as a shiver brought him fully awake. The herd was moving, shuffling uneasily through the wooly ground fog. Somewhere off in the predawn darkness, a mechanical whine spooled up, echoing across the ranchlands of the Rafter B. He shot a glance at the small oak where he’d tied Dollar the night before. The buckskin quarter horse flicked his ears and danced at the end of the lead rope, pulling the branch with him.

“Easy, fella.” Sharp tried to calm them both, but Dollar pranced and threw his head. To the west, the whine increased in volume, and the morning mist glowed with enough purple light that Sharp could make out the terrain through the patchy fog. Whatever had the livestock spooked was just beyond a small rise.

Sharp buckled on his gun belt, and his hand found his Colt. Not the six-shooting cowboy revolver of Gentry Ferguson’s King of the West movies, but a well-used Army issue .45 automatic that had followed him home from the European theater.

All through that war, Sharp had explained that, yes, he was from Texas, but that didn’t make him a cowboy. He’d walked the beat as a cop before the war—didn’t own a horse, have a ranch, or ever slept out under the stars or tended cattle. So naturally, here he was two years later, camped out on a ranch with a borrowed horse, guarding cows.

He patted Dollar’s shoulder as if that would settle the horse, then hiked up the hill in the low crouch that had been driven into him on too many mornings in the infantry.

When he was two steps up the hill, the earth rumbled with the tremor of aggravated shorthorns thundering away from the noise and light. Sharp had been a special ranger for the Fort Worth and Western Stockmen’s Association since the war, but he’d yet to be involved in a stampede.

Of course, it had to happen now, he thought. Before sunup. In the fog.

He had no place to hide as dozens of terrified red cattle came bellowing over the rise. He scrambled back to the campsite. He could see the white faces on the lead pair of Herefords when he yanked the Colt off his hip and fired twice into the air. The startled cattle reeled and parted right and left at the gunfire, the herd splitting to flow past the campsite like a stream around a rock. Luck and the good Lord favored the ignorant.

Sharp shooed the last of the stragglers past as the adrenaline drained away. “That,” he said to the nickering quarter horse, “is enough excitement for today.”

The mysterious whine disagreed. Pulsing lights strobing red, purple, and golden orange rose from beyond the hill. The apparition moved over the ridgeline, and the fog glowed. Behind Sharp, Dollar screamed a whinny and reared, trying for all his might to pull the scrubby tree out of the ground. The branch cracked. Sharp dove for the lead rope and dug his heels into the damp earth before Dollar could bolt. Something was out there with the man and horse, and the smarter one of the pair wasn’t sticking around to find out what it was.

But the light show could move as well, and it did. The brilliant colors rotated in concert with the whine as it became a deafening howl. The hovering glow spun together into an intense white circle, levitated high over the hill, and disappeared into the morning fog. Instantly, the noise changed course and roared back over the camp. The lights flashed overhead, then vanished at incredible speed, leaving a dying echo and a breeze that moved the wisps of fog.

Sharp and Dollar stood frozen as whatever the hell it was blasted above them. They shared a look, and then the quarter horse went full rodeo, bucking, jumping, and twisting—anything to get out of this halter, off this rope, away from this tree, and back to the safety of the barn. Any barn.

It took five minutes of profanity and cajoling, but Sharp finally calmed down the panicked gelding. He took a good hold on the halter and led them back to the campsite. “Look, I don’t know what it is either, but I’m pretty damn sure it doesn’t eat horses for breakfast.”

Dollar’s wild eyes and flicking ears suggested that he was not convinced.

Sharp remembered that something else was out there. Sixtyfour head of cattle the Stockmen’s Association was paying him to keep track of. Now, they were scattered from here to Mingus, and he and Dollar would be all morning rounding them up.

***

Excerpt from Thunder Road by Colin Holmes. Copyright 2023 by Colin Holmes. Reproduced with permission from CamCat Books. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Colin Holmes

Before the pandemic, Colin Holmes toiled in a beige cubical as a mid-level marketing and advertising manager for an international electronics firm. A recovering advertising creative director, he spent far too long at ad agencies and freelancing as a hired gun in the war for capitalism.

As an adman, Holmes has written newspaper classifieds, TV commercials, radio spots, trade journal articles and tweets. His ads have sold cowboy boots and cheeseburgers, 72-ounce steaks, and hazardous waste site clean-up services. He’s encountered fascinating characters at every turn.

Now he writes novels, short stories and screenplays in an effort to stay out of the way and not drive his far too patient wife completely crazy. He is an honors graduate of the UCLA Writers Program, a former board member of the DFW Writers Workshop and serves on the steering committee of the DFW Writers Conference. He’s a fan of baseball, barbeque, fine automobiles and unpretentious scotch.

Catch Up With Colin Holmes:
ByColinHolmes.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @bycolinholmes
Instagram – @bycolinholmes
Twitter – @bycolinholmes
Facebook – @colin.holmes.1213

 

 

Tour Participants:

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

 

 

JOIN IN FOR A CHANCE TO WIN

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Colin Holmes & CamCat Books. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

 

  • You can see my Giveaways HERE.
  • You can see my Reviews HERE.
  • If you like what you see, why don’t you follow me?
  • Look on the right sidebar and let’ talk.
  • Leave your link in the comments and I will drop by to see what’s shakin’.
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Giveaway – A Seasonal Song by Dan Shaskin & Deb Wesloh @XpressoTours

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A Seasonal Song
Dan Shaskin, Deb Wesloh
Publication date: March 21st 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Discover love and music in the sultry streets of Miami with “A Seasonal Song.”

Clarissa Bianchi, a talented violinist, lands her dream internship with the Miami Orchestra, but little does she know that she will also discover the love of her life. Jack Williams, a rugged rock guitarist with a broken heart, meets Clarissa and is instantly drawn to her beauty and passion for music. Despite their different musical backgrounds, their mutual love for music brings them together on a journey filled with passion, growth, and unforgettable memories.

As the summer draws to a close, Clarissa and Jack must navigate their intense feelings for each other and determine if their love is strong enough to withstand the distance between Miami and Boston. Will their hearts play a different song, or will the romance come to an end?

“A Seasonal Song” is a love story that will leave you humming a sweet tune long after you turn the last page.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Current Year

Clarissa gazed at the horizon as she sat on the beach. The breeze provided little relief from the oppressive heat and humidity. Her cotton shirt clung to the contours of her body as sweat dripped down the back of her neck. The wind and humidity disheveled her long brunette hair.

She paused and whispered under her breath. “Here I am, again. Back in Miami.”

They say history repeats itself. From her perspective, she concurred.

So much heartache, so much love, and such beautiful memories. The smell of the ocean brought a tear to her eye. The tear slowly trickled down her cheek, dropping from her chin into the ocean.

She smiled as she thought of her last summer in Miami. Some would categorize it as a summer fling, but the passion and intense emotions they shared were real.

Jack was twenty-seven and designed custom yachts. She was twenty-one, a sophomore at Berklee College of Music. An unlikely pair, but perhaps their paths collided for a reason.

She strolled to the water’s edge. The sand stuck to her feet, leaving deep imprints on the beach. The waves crashed against her legs, throwing her slightly off balance. She steadied herself as she walked back to her towel.

Her mind drifted back to her job last summer at the Purple Penguin Café. Where it all began.

As she remembered when she first met Jack, her heart pounded in her chest and her breathing became slightly labored.

Last summer at 6:30 p.m. on June 25th Jack walked into The Purple Penguin. She chided her silliness for remembering the exact date and time, but she did, and the memory was as crisp as if it had happened yesterday.

Last year

All teal chairs and tables were occupied at the eclectic-furnished café. Loud conversations inundated the room.

Several people waved, trying to get her attention. She was exhausted, and her feet ached. She wished her shift would end.

As she served a table, he entered the café and waited to be seated.

A table soon opened, and the hostess assigned him to her section. She finished serving her current table and approached him, greeting him warmly.

“Hi. My name is Clarissa. What can I get for you?”

His warm brown eyes glanced up from the menu and met hers. “Hi, nice to meet you, Clarissa.”

It surprised her to hear her name. Although she always introduced herself, the customers rarely repeated her name.

“What’s in that silver penguin shaker thing I saw you take to the other table?”

“Shake Your Penguin, our signature cocktail. It’s a mix of Absolut Vodka, pomegranate juice, lime soda, and berries. It’s very popular and tastes great. I should know. I’ve sampled a few of them.” She winked and laughed.

He smiled. “I’ll take your word for it. Let’s start with one of those Shaky Penguin things.”

She returned a few minutes later with his drink.

He took a sip. “Wow, this is good!” Jack continued. “Listening to your accent, you don’t seem to be from around here. Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want.”

Clarissa laughed, “It’s okay. The short answer is, I’m from everywhere.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Well, when I was growing up, I was an Army brat. Between the ages of two and nineteen, I lived in eight states, and three years in Stuttgart, Germany.”

Jack smiled at her. “Sie müssen dann fließend Deutsch sprechen?”

Clarissa smiled. “Yes, I speak German, but fluent is an exceptionally strong word. Let’s just say I can converse in German with few errors.”

She found him intriguing. Perhaps it was the warm manner he talked to her. She calculated he was slightly older than her, maybe in his late twenties. He had a sincere smile and kind eyes.

“Most of our clientele are tourists and stay at the Purple Penguin Hotel next door,” she said. “We don’t get many locals. Are you from around here?”

“I’m originally from Boerne, Texas, just northwest of San Antonio. I’ve lived in Miami for five years. A business client is staying at the Penguin Hotel. I just dropped him off, saw the restaurant, and here I am. Never been here before.”

“How’d you get from Texas to Miami Beach?” she asked.

“I’ve always loved the ocean. Growing up, I spent my weekends in Aransas Pass hanging out on the beach. I’m experienced in construction, saw an opening in Miami, and here I am.”



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  • Leave your link in the comments and I will drop by to see what’s shakin’.
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Giveaway – Call Sign: King by Livia Grant @XpressoTours

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Call Sign: King
Livia Grant
Publication date: May 8th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

He got cocky. Let his guard down.

Now the love of his life is paying the price.

For a moment he’d forgotten there were men who wanted him dead. Men who lived their lives in the dark, who could reach out of the shadows he used to live in, and he’d been naive to think the light inside her would keep her safe.

She was too bright to hide away though, made for the spotlight, and he’d felt warmer just by being near her… then everything went cold so fast.

In a breath she was gone, in the hands of his enemies, and he’d seen first hand what happened to women who crossed paths with the Volkov Bratva. They’d touch her, hurt her. She’d be afraid, suffering.

All because of him. All in the name of vengeance.

But that was their mistake, because in the maddening darkness her absence has put him in, a beast was sleeping… and they woke him up. Now everyone will pay.

Black Sky Ops – Danger for Hire

This network of global mercenaries stay in the shadows, going on the impossible missions no one else will take. The elite soldiers of Black Sky Ops aren’t afraid to break the rules as long as it’s for the greater good — and the paycheck is high enough. But sometimes the line between right and wrong gets blurry, especially when protecting the people they love.

Note: The Black Sky Ops series is made up of full length novels with no cliffhangers and guaranteed happily-ever-afters. Each book is a standalone and the series can be read in any order.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

It was on the sideline of the theater he literally bumped into Trevor — the only other man on the planet he felt confident leaving his wife’s safety too.

“That was one of her best performances,” Trevor said. “I knew when they were filming last year it was special.”

“Yeah. She better damn well win this year.”

“She will,” Trevor said sounding as proud as Ryder felt. “And while she deserves it, each notch she raises on the ladder of fame makes our job just that much harder.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Ryder groused, as aggravated today as he had been four years before by the impossible love match between an international celebrity and a deep-cover agent. “As much as I love being here with her tonight, I can’t shake the feeling that it was a mistake to come.”

Ryder tried not to share his fears with Khloe, but he hid nothing from Trevor McLean, his queen’s Royal Guard.

“Your contacts at the CIA gave you a clean report last month, right?”

“Just because the Volkov’s have been wounded, I’ll never count them out — not until Alexi runs them into the ground for good.”

Just thinking about his last mission in Russia before he burned his cover put him on edge.

“You said yourself he’s a weak leader compared to his dead cousins. But if he’s still a threat, why not just have BSO take him out?”

Trevor asked a question Ryder had found himself contemplating more often these days.

He sighed. “Because killing him would be just another ‘whack a mole’ mission as the team likes to say. Someone new would take his place… maybe even someone worse. At least I know him — understand how he thinks. And anyway, the Volkovs are just one of a dozen crime families that would love to see me six-feet under. I can’t very well take hits out on all of them,” Ryder groused, never taking his eyes off his beaming wife.

“Why not?” Trevor asked.

It was a simple enough question, and in all honesty, it was a solution he had the means and resources to pull off.

“I guess because despite all of the fucked up shit I’ve done, my moral compass has always pointed squarely in the good-guy direction. Voluntarily taking out dozens of marks I haven’t interacted with in years just so I can get a better night’s sleep seems like a slippery slope.”

“I get that, and even respect that, but at the end of the day, they’re the bad guys — not you. And certainly not Khloe. I love seeing her this happy. You being here made that happen.”

Author Bio:

USA Today bestselling author Livia Grant lives in Chicago with her husband and furry rescue dog named Max. She is fortunate to have been able to travel extensively and as much as she loves to visit places around the globe, the Midwest and its changing seasons will always be home. Livia’s readers appreciate her riveting stories filled with deep, character driven plots, often spiced with elements of BDSM.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Bookbub


GIVEAWAY!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

—

  • You can see my Giveaways HERE.
  • You can see my Reviews HERE.
  • If you like what you see, why don’t you follow me?
  • Look on the right sidebar and let’ talk.
  • Leave your link in the comments and I will drop by to see what’s shakin’.
  • I am an Amazon affiliate/product images are linked.
  • Thanks for visiting fundinmental!

Giveaway – If I Had A Hammer by Teresa Trent @partnersincr1me @ttrent_cozymys

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If I Had a Hammer by Teresa Trent Banner

If I Had a Hammer

by Teresa Trent

May 1-26, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

A new job, a brutal murder, and Camelot has ended.

In 1963, Dot Morgan’s life was changed forever. She witnessed the assassination of John F Kennedy through the lens of her boxy Kodak Instamatic camera, bringing traumatic aftereffects of the brutality that happened as they stood on the parade route in Dallas.

She starts her first real secretarial job with a boss who has no sympathy for her trauma. When Dot’s only work friend has a mysterious accident at a demolition site, she digs around on her own only to find very little love between two brothers and no one hammering out justice to find a murderer.

The suspects are all around Dot and as she tries to sift through their motives, her cousin Ellie is going through PTSD on her own, losing interest in work, and her fiancé all the while quoting some of JFK’s finest speeches.

With so much change in her world, can Dot still tell the difference between good and evil?

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Mystery
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: March 2023
Number of Pages: 230
ISBN: 978-1685123017
Series: The Swinging Sixties Mystery Series, Book 2 | Each is a stand alone
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

Ellie screamed, making the driver jump. “Right here! Stop here,” Ellie said as she passed bills from the back seat to the front.

I looked up over a light brown building with straight white letters reading Texas School Book Depository. Above it was an ad for Hertz Rent-a-Car with a clock attached to it. It was straight up noon. The crowd was thickening as people found places to stand in a grassy area next to the street. It was almost as if the original landscaper had known this historic day would take place and designed the gradual slope along the road. According to the newspaper, Kennedy’s motorcade would arrive soon, and I felt the excitement building as we prepared to join the crowd. I pulled my arms through my sweater.

Ellie extended a hand to help me out of the yellow Checker cab. “Are you ready?”

“Oh yes. Let’s go over there.” I pointed to one of the few open spots next to the curb. “Hurry, before someone else gets it. I just hope we can hold the spot. There are some pretty big guys who might want to stand in front of us.”

Ellie smirked. “You know what I always say. ‘Knee them in the crotch and they sing a new song.’”

“Seriously, Ellie. I’m not attacking some poor man just so I can stand in front.”

“You’re right. I was trying to sound sophisticated Maybe not here but remember that. It may come in handy someday.”

I had decided to wear a new pair of black heels and felt them wobbling. We crossed the street and grabbed our spot just in time, causing another viewer to crowd in next to us. The smell of cigarette smoke circled us as people fiddled with cameras and readjusted black-rimmed glasses.

“Jack Kennedy is so handsome.” Ellie placed her hand over her heart, popping it on her chest like a heartbeat. “Too bad he’s already taken.”

“Stop.” I laughed. “I believe you’re already taken as well. Didn’t I hear something about you and Al getting married next June?”

Ellie gave a sweet smile as her eyes drifted upward. “I can’t believe that either. June. That’s just a little more than six months away.”

“Well, you deserve the happiness coming your way.” I patted my cousin’s shoulder. Ellie was in her thirties, practically spinsterhood in 1963. Finding Al, the electrician, had been the best thing for her. Love and marriage. It filled me with warmth. We were all living the American dream just like the characters in our favorite movies at the Rialto theater. The lyrics of “Young at Heart” drifted through my mind.

I sang a few lines from the song.

Ellie linked her arm with mine as she watched the street. A few cars drove by, but none that looked like a presidential motorcade. The breeze drifted across my exposed knees. A longer skirt would have shielded my knees, but I would endure the shivers for the sake of fashion.

“Ellie, did you see that picture of Jackie in the paper? She’s gorgeous. I saw her tour of the White House on TV. She’s so classy and looks beautiful in everything she wears.”

“Except she talks funny,” Ellie said, her Texas drawl turning “talks” into “tawks.”

“That’s because she’s from the East. She can’t help it. I’ll bet she thinks Texans talk funny. I’m sure they hear a lot of Texas twang coming from LBJ and Ladybird.”

“But that’s just music to anyone’s ears,” Ellie said. “Be serious.”

I glanced up and down the parade route. “Ben said he was going to be here. Maybe he’s farther down the street.” I pulled out my new Kodak Instamatic and hooked the leather strap around my neck. I raised the camera up to my eyes. “I hope I can get a clear picture of Jackie and John.”

“Listen to you. You talk like you know them,” Ellie laughed. “Jackie and John.”

“Well, in a way, I feel like I do. They’re America’s perfect family. I love them all. Jackie, John, Caroline, John-John.”

Ellie sighed and then drew in an excited breath with her hands clenched in front of her. “This is so exciting.” People continued to crowd up to the curb. A tall man in a brown plaid sport coat, holding binoculars up to his black boxy glasses, elbowed me to move over. I could feel tension in the air that comes when people anticipate witnessing something spectacular.

Just then, a line of shiny black cars came into view, ambling down the street in our direction. The breeze turned into a slight wind. I leaned forward and squinted, trying to identify who was in each vehicle. I felt my heart race as I recognized John and Jackie Kennedy sitting in the back seat as the car was surrounded by men on motorcycles. She was stunning in a pink wool suit and matching hat. I felt special knowing Jackie and I had worn the same color on this memorable day. She, of course, looked so much better. John had a healthy tan and a wide smile on his face.

I raised my camera and willed the man in the brown plaid coat not to step in front of me. This was a moment I was sure we would always remember. I hoped I could wind the film cartridge fast enough to take several pictures. Maybe they would want to use them in the Camden Courier? I wanted a good one of John, and another of Jackie. Just like real people, I thought but really, they looked like royalty, sitting in the open top limousine with policemen on motorcycles riding silently alongside—sort of a mobile palace guard. When the hood of the limousine was directly in front of me, I brought the Instamatic up and clicked to take a picture. I rolled the film to the next frame, took another, and repeated the process. Suddenly, I heard a popping sound somewhere behind me. I rolled the film lever with my thumb, now an automatic action, then turned toward the sound, only to see people scrambling and running to higher ground. The sound I heard wasn’t a pop. It was a gunshot. I looked back toward the motorcade and stood in horror as a man crawled over the back of the open convertible and the thing that caught my attention was the splotches of red invading Jackie’s beautiful pink suit. John Kennedy no longer sat smiling in front of me but was down in the seat on Jackie’s lap.

***

Excerpt from If I Had a Hammer by Teresa Trent. Copyright 2023 by Teresa Trent. Reproduced with permission from Teresa Trent. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Teresa Trent

Teresa Trent is the author of over 15 books. She started writing cozy mysteries with the Pecan Bayou and Piney Woods Mystery Series. She sets her stories in different geographical areas of Texas and The Swinging Sixties historical series is set just north of Dallas, starting in 1962. You might think with so many books set in the Lone Star state, she was born there, but no. She has lived all over the world, thanks to her father’s career in the army. After living in Texas for twenty-five years, she’s finally put down roots.

Teresa is a hybrid author, self-publishing early in her career, which led her to traditional publishing with Level Best Books and Camel Press. She is the author of several short stories that have appeared in a host of anthologies. Teresa publishes the blog and podcast, Books to the Ceiling at https://teresatrent.blog where she loves to read the book excerpts of other writers and share in the writing community.

Teresa is a member of Sisters in Crime and lives in Houston, Texas with her husband and son.

Catch Up With Teresa:
TeresaTrent.com
Books to the Ceiling Podcast
Goodreads
BookBub – @TeresaTrent
Instagram – @teresatrent_cozymys
Twitter – @ttrent_cozymys
Facebook – @teresatrentmysterywriter

 

 

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Giveaway – Of Blood And Light by C Monk @XpressoTours

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Of Blood and Light
C. Monk
Publication date: April 30th 2023
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Arthurian legend, bodice-ripping, and capybaras: welcome to Thule.

A girl with a secret . . .
In the back of an ambulance, River Greer counts each breath her little sister takes until the final one: Sage’s body is giving up, ravaged by a mysterious illness. The late-night rush to the ER, however, turns into a surreal nightmare when River is abducted and ferried across the universe to the fabled Thule: a world beyond worlds, where Victorian mores collide with magic and Arthurian legend.

. . . meets a knight on a mission to save his world.
There, his grace Hadrian Landevale of Caid is fighting losing battles of his own: to recover Isolde, his runaway wife, and against the blight that threatens the ichor, the source of all life on Thule. To add insult to injury, the captured fugitive Thule pathfinders just brought back from Earth is not his duchess but an eerie doppelgänger.
When it becomes clear that someone on Thule will go to any length to silence River, Hadrian offers his protection to this enchanting, obstinate stranger . . . whose secrets might be the key to saving Thule’s most precious treasure: the light in its blood.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

“I have a lot more questions than you,” I murmur, tracking the movements of a pair of lone figures across the lawn. A man in farm clothes and a woman wearing some sort of maid outfit carry buckets and packages from a carriage stationed on a gravel path. They mill around, seemingly unbothered by the fractured moon and massive misty planet looming over their heads.

By the time the two strangers disappear, I realize Hadrian is still supporting me, one arm curled over the front of my torso while the other rests around my waist. I cautiously pry myself from his hold. He lets go and takes a step back, allowing some salutary distance between us. “What is this place?”

“Thule,” he reasserts.

“I heard you the first time, but that’s not what I’m asking.” I stagger away from the windows, unable to tear my gaze from the foreign sky outside. “Are we in space?”

One of his eyebrows rises a fraction. “Miss Greer, everything is, by essence, in space.”

“Are we in space elsewhere than on Earth? Like . . . how far?” I urge, desperate for tangible facts to hold on to as I plummet down this rabbit hole.

He motions to the evil chair he used to trap me earlier. “You seem quite overtaxed; would you like to take a seat?”

I shake my head to signal I’m never sitting in that thing again. “How far?”

“We’re approximately two hundred and ninety light-years away from Earth.”

A tremor snakes up my legs; I grip one of the bedposts for support. “How is that . . . No. No. It’s not possible.”

“The paths connect our worlds, as they have since the very first breath of time. The Dekwenn Tīrr, through which Eliud ferried you, is one such path. That is how you came to be here.”

“But it only took a second!” I shriek, the chaos of my thoughts coalescing into something cold and dark. Was it truly a second, or have I been asleep in that bright void for years and lost everything?

“Time and space are quite altered within the paths,” he notes.

“What do you mean? How long have I been here?”

He pulls a gold pocket watch from his waistcoat, flicks it open, and checks the dial. “Slightly over six hours.”

My initial rush of relief becomes a leaden sensation in the pit of my stomach as I recall the twisted physics of Miller’s planet in Interstellar—where severe time dilation caused by a neighboring black hole turns every hour into seven years.

“How long has it been on Earth?” Please let it not be forty-two years. Please.

A crease forms between his eyebrows. “The same amount of time, one should expect.”

“Exactly the same? So six hours? A quarter of a day?”

“A tenth, rather,” he corrects. Seeing my face scrunch in confusion, then panic, he adds, “While I’ve never had the privilege of visiting Earth, it is my understanding that solar days there are quite short.”

One-tenth . . . I whip my neurons into action and do the math, the room spinning around me as I process this new level of weird. “Sixty hours. Your solar days last sixty hours.”

“Indeed. It is past midday—” He checks his watch again. “Precisely thirty-two o’clock.”

“Give or take a light-year.”

“As I’ve already explained to you, the rules of time and space do not apply within the paths. Nothing does, in truth,” he adds, like an afterthought.

The room is warm, but I’m trembling, freezing. “I can’t be here. Please let me go home. Take me back through one of those paths!”

The lines bracketing his mouth deepening as he turns to face me once more. “I cannot.”

His earlier conversation with Eliud rings back in my ears: under arrest for the illegal crossing of an unregistered path . . . crimes for which even the wife of a knight must be held accountable.

“You can’t because it’s forbidden even to you.”

A single nod from him. “All paths have been strictly regulated for centuries. Only pathfinders are permitted to cross them freely. Thule’s legislation on the matter is enforced with the greatest severity.”

Centuries. That might explain why Thule hasn’t yet caught up with Earth’s latest fashion and tech and, instead, appears suspended in this weird Victorian bubble. “How severe are we talking?”

“Death.”

Author Bio:

Visit camillamonk.com for signed books, updates on upcoming titles, free reads, and giveaways.

C. Monk grew up in a Franco-American family and rose to dubious fame with a romantic suspense series starring an OCD-ridden hitman and a wide array of strange and occasionally angry animals. These days she shares her writing time between high-octane adventures in the same vein and fantasy, her secret love (but with weird animals, too.)

In another life, she lived in Paris and Tokyo, and spent ten years in advertising, building rickety websites for M&A boutiques and hedge funds. All of that somehow landed her in Montréal, where she keeps a close watch on the squirrels and complains on a daily basis about the egregious number of Tim Hortons.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram


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ENTER TO WIN HERE!

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  • If you like what you see, why don’t you follow me?
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  • Leave your link in the comments and I will drop by to see what’s shakin’.
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Giveaway – Man On The Run by Charles Salzberg @CharlesSalzberg @partnersincr1me

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Man on the Run by Charles Salzberg Banner

Man on the Run

by Charles Salzberg

April 17 – May 12, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Master burglar Francis Hoyt is on the run.

After walking away from his arraignment in a Connecticut courtroom, he’s now a fugitive who has to figure out what he’s going to do with the rest of his life. And so, he heads west, to Los Angeles, where he meets Dakota, a young true crime podcaster who happens to be doing a series on Hoyt. At the same time, he’s approached by a mysterious attorney who makes Hoyt an offer he can’t refuse: break into a “mob bank,” and liberate the contents.

Praise for Man on the Run:

“The stakes couldn’t be higher as the cat and mouse game moves to the Left Coast in Salzberg’s compelling Man on the Run. A superb mix of action, suspense, psychopathology.”

“One part heist movie, one part psychological thriller, three parts great character and blend. Salzberg’s superb Man on the Run will keep your head spinning from the first page to the last.”
~ Reed Farrel Coleman

“Man on the Run grips you from the opening page and doesn’t let go. The plot will leave you breathless with anticipation as a master burglar and a crime podcaster try to outwit and outmaneuver each other before an outrageous heist. There’s nothing better than smart characters, with smart dialogue, going head to head. You won’t want to miss a twist or turn.”
~ Michael Wiley, Shamus Award-winning writer of the Sam Kelson mysteries

“Francis Hoyt, Charles Salzberg’s brilliant burglar anti-hero from SECOND STORY MAN, is back on the prowl in Man on the Run. Old-school crime meets the podcast age as Hoyt tangles with a true-crime reporter as well as fellow felons and the law. Like his hero, Salzberg is a total pro who always brings it home.”
~ Wallace Stroby, author of HEAVEN’S A LIE

“Charles Salzberg is a genius at not only crafting a helluva page-turner of a heist novel, but he also manages to make the reader care about Francis Hoyt, master burglar and pathological narcissist. Hoyt is the man on the run, and the story of how he eludes the law, the mob, and a retired cop who has become his personal nemesis packs a solid punch and leaves you rooting for the guy who’d steal your family jewels without breaking a sweat.”
~ James R. Benn, author of the Billy Boyle WWII mystery series

“When it comes to Charles Salzberg’s work, you can expect a hard-edged story, crisp dialogue, and memorable characters. This is certainly true — and then some! – in his latest, Man on the Run. Featuring master burglar Francis Hoyt, a tough and intelligent criminal who can’t seem to turn down tempting criminal scores despite the inherent danger, Man on the Run features a true-crime podcast host, a criminal fence, and an investigator hot on the trail of Francis Hoyt as his most challenging and dangerous burglary comes into play. Very much recommended.”
~ Brendan DuBois, award-winning and New York Times bestselling author

“It’s a battle of wits and nerves as a cop, a robber, and a journalist dance around each other weaving a tapestry of deceit and suspense. Salzberg’s dialogue flows like water until it finds truth in this most entertaining read.”
~ Matt Goldman, New York Times bestselling author

“Smart, sly and compelling, with a fascinating main character – the very definition of intelligent suspense.”
~ Lee Child

Book Details:

Genre: Crime
Published by: Down & Out Books
Publication Date: April 2023
Number of Pages: 340
ISBN: 978-1-64396-307-5
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Down & Out Books

Read an excerpt:

1

Francis

I ambush her as she’s coming out of Starbucks, a mega-size coffee cup in one hand, her phone in the other.

“Know who I am?” I say.

She’s confused. Or embarrassed. Like when you have no idea who someone is but you don’t admit it because you think you should.

“Noooo. I don’t think so,” she says, wrinkling her brow and cocking her head, like she’s giving it serious thought. “Should I? Have we met before?” she adds, shifting her weight to her back foot in an unconscious move to put a little distance between us.

This chick doesn’t know me yet, but she will.

It’s early Sunday morning. A typical late spring day in L.A. West Hollywood. The temp’s hovering in the mid-70s. This won’t hold for long. We’re in the middle of a heatwave and they’re predicting the low 90s by mid-afternoon. Above us, there’s that familiar low-hanging ceiling of grey cloud-cover they say will burn off by noon. They swear it always does. They even have a name for it. The June Gloom. Maybe all months should come with a warning label. I mean, life’s already full of enough surprises, right?

Other than a few people out for an early run, or picking up breakfast, the sidewalk is empty. Except for the two of us.

She looks like she’s in her mid to late twenties. But I know she’s older than that. Closer to thirty-five. She isn’t as pretty as I’d imagined. It’s probably the voice that throws me off. Soft. Sweet. Seductive. A sexy, midnight radio voice. Or one of those sex line phone voices. The kind of voice that makes promises without actually promising anything. And any promises made she has no intention of keeping. Not that she’s a dog. Not by a long shot. It’s just that she isn’t going to win any beauty contests. Not here. Not in L.A. where good-looking chicks fall from palm trees like coconuts. Third, fourth runner-up, maybe. First place? Not a chance. Her looks don’t quite fit with her voice. Still, there’s something very sexy about her. Not hard-on sexy. But sexy enough so you can’t help but wonder what she looks like on the beach, in a bikini.

But it’s more than just the voice. Maybe it’s the short, blonde hair which gives her a pixie look. Maybe it’s the face. A mishmash of sharp angles. A nose that looks like it’s been broken—if she were a guy you might guess in a barroom brawl—tilting slightly to one side. Like that Ellen Barkin chick. Her skin is lightly tanned and smooth. She has a slight overbite. High cheekbones. Makes me think of those Picasso paintings. But in a good way. Maybe it’s the tight, faded black jeans, stylishly frayed just below the knees. Or the sky-blue Rolling Stones T-shirt with the image of a giant red tongue unfurled. Maybe it’s because she isn’t wearing a bra. Maybe it’s because she’s confident enough to wear no make-up to cover up the freckles scattered haphazardly across her cheeks and nose. Do not, under any circumstances, underestimate confidence. It’s a definite turn-on.

Whatever it is, it works.

This isn’t a pick-up. Or a stick-up. This is business. More than business, actually. Curiosity. No. More than that. Self-preservation. But there’s always that promise, like her voice, that it might turn into something else.

She doesn’t recognize me because we’ve never met. But recently our lives have unexpectedly intertwined. Her doing, not mine.

“Trust me. If you’d have met me, you wouldn’t forget me.”

“Really? Why’s that?” she asks, cocking her head to the other side, as she slowly turns her coffee cup away from me. I know why she’s doing it and I’m impressed. She’s got a quick mind. The barista has scribbled her name on it in black magic marker. This is the kind of information, assuming I don’t already have it, she would not want me to have.

I’m starting to make her nervous. I can see it in her eyes. They swivel wildly in their sockets like she’s some kind of whacky cartoon figure. She’s a couple, three inches taller than me, but that doesn’t give her the kind of advantage height sometimes offers. I should know. I’m small of stature. I claim five-four, but I might be lying. Or exaggerating. Take your pick. It’s not a handicap. Never has been. It works for me. Always has. It’s been a long time since anyone’s tried to take advantage of me because of my size. A long, fucking time.

“Maybe it’s the baseball cap. It kinda of hides your face,” she says, straining to figure me out. Am I harmless? Is she in danger? Should she dial 9-1-1? Should she turn tail and head back into the relative safety of Starbucks?

I take it off in one swift, flowing motion and wave it across my body. The only thing missing is me bending forward in a bow. Like the Japs do.

“Better?”

She shakes her head. I put the hat back on.

“Maybe the sunglasses?” she says.

“Let’s see,” I say, as I slip them off.

I know what she’s doing. Making sure she gets a good look at me. Taking a mental snapshot of my face. Just in case later she has to describe me to the cops. It should make me feel like a specimen under glass, but it doesn’t. Actually, I’m enjoying the attention. Besides, by the time we’re finished she’ll know who I am and then she won’t have to describe me to anyone.

Even after all this she’s still baffled. I put my sunglasses back on and adjust my cap so it angles down slightly over my forehead.

It’s almost imperceptible, but she’s slowly inching away from me. Like she’s getting ready to bolt. She has that thin, athletic build of a runner. We have that in common. Maybe, if we get to know each other, we’ll run together. But no matter how fast she might be, I’ll leave her in the dust. Maybe it’s because you might say I run for a living. Maybe it’s because I’m always in excellent shape. Especially for someone flirting with his mid-forties. But it’s not just that. It’s more like I don’t take losing very well. I never hold back. That’s the real reason I never lose. Ever.

Her eyes dart back and forth as she slowly dips her right hand, the one holding her cell, into the black leather satchel dangling from her shoulder. Maybe she thinks I can’t see what she’s doing. She’d be wrong. I’ve trained myself to note every detail, every nuance. When I walk into a room, any room, I immediately know two things: where the exit is and exactly where everyone is standing. I’m a fucking living, breathing motion detector. It’s one of the things that makes me as good as I am at what I do. I doubt she has a serious weapon in there. Maybe pepper spray. Maybe a set of keys she’s been taught to use as a weapon in one of those self-defense classes for women. The key chain held tight in your fist. The keys poking out between your index and forefinger. A sudden thrust to an eye. If your aim is good, you can do some serious damage.

But neither of these things will do her any good. I’m much too quick. I’ll have hold of her wrist before she gets her hand out of her bag.

I smile, hoping this will lighten the mood. I don’t want her to think I’m a predator and she’s the prey.

Maybe she is. Maybe I am. But I don’t want her to think so. Not yet.

“I’m a memorable guy,” I say, smiling. I’ve been told I’ve got a killer smile. They say it makes me look very approachable. This can be a good thing. A very good thing. I inject a dramatic pause. “What’s that expression? The Most Unforgettable Character You’ve Ever Met? That would be me.”

“You’re starting to frighten me a little,” she says, glancing over my left shoulder, then my right. Looking to see if anyone else is around. In case she needs help. She even looks back into Starbucks to see if anyone might be coming out. Someone who might rescue her. Though she can’t possibly know from what. Not yet.

Her right hand is frozen inside her purse. She isn’t quite ready to commit herself. There’s still time to defuse the situation.

“I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” I say, raising my hands, palms out, midway to my chest.

“I’m not afraid,” she says. Not very convincingly.

“Good. Because you haven’t seen my scary face yet.”

She starts to laugh, then realizes maybe I’m not trying to be funny. Hollywood is the land of weirdos and crackpots. She has no way of knowing I am not one of those.

“Then why are you acting so creepy?”

I shrug. “This is me, darlin’. It’s just the way I am. But I swear, I really am harmless. You sure you don’t know me?”

“Pretty sure,” she says, hesitatingly, like she thinks maybe she should know me but still can’t quite figure out why.

“Don’t worry,” I say, with a wink. “You will.”

***

Excerpt from Man on the Run by Charles Salzberg. Copyright 2023 by Charles Salzberg. Reproduced with permission from Charles Salzberg. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Charles Salzberg

Charles Salzberg, a former magazine journalist (New York magazine, Esquire, Redbook, New York Times and others) and nonfiction book writer (From Set Shot to Slam Dunk, an oral history of the NBA, and Soupy Sez; My Zany Life and Times with Soupy Sales), has been nominated twice for the Shamus Award for Swann’s Last Song and Second Story Man, which also won the Beverly Hills Book Award. His novel Devil in the Hole was named one of the Best Crime Novels of 2013 by Suspense magazine. He is the author of Canary in the Coal Mine and his short stories have appeared in Mystery Tribune, Down to the River, Lawyers, and Guns and Money. He’s been a Visiting Professor Magazine at the S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications at Syracuse University and he teaches writing in New York City for the New York Writers Workshop, where he is a Founding Member. He’s also on the Board of PrisonWrites and is a former Board Member of MWA-NY.

Catch Up With Charles:
www.CharlesSalzberg.com
Goodreads
BookBub
Instagram – @charlessalzberg
Twitter – @CharlesSalzberg
Facebook – @charles.salzberg.3
YouTube – @CharlesSalzberg

 

 

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

 

 

Enter to Win!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Charles Salzberg. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

 

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  • If you like what you see, why don’t you follow me?
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Giveaway – Starseer by Katya Hernandez @XpressoTours

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Starseer
Katya Hernández
Publication date: April 22nd 2023
Genres: Fantasy, LGBTQ+, Young Adult

A fate traced by the stars…

Fifteen-year-old Etar can see the future in the stars—a rare skill even among magicians. But while other Starseers before him have become the stuff of legend, Etar has never predicted anything more exciting than the weather. Orphaned at age five and living under his uncle’s disapproving gaze, he yearns to prove his worth.

Disaster strikes when, in defiance of his uncle’s orders, Etar breaks into the Starseeing Dome—an ancient structure built to potentiate the powers of Starseers. Aided by the Dome, the stars send Etar a vision of ironclad warships destroying Skalland, the tiny island he calls home.

Hunted by a bloodthirsty admiral who seeks to enslave his newly awakened powers, Etar will have to fight to protect his friends while grappling with his past, his out-of-control magic, and a budding friendship turning into something more.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Etar didn’t have time to process any of what Hans had said before he went back to the hallway to let someone in—and whatever Etar had been expecting, it was nothing like the man that walked in.

The stranger walked with a step so light Etar could barely hear it on the floorboards of his room. His long black hair caught light like flowing water, and his eyes were distant in a deep, wistful way, blue and luminous even under this morning’s gray light. He wore a black silken tunic embroidered with the most marvelous iridescent threads. Starbursts, suns, and moons, all decorated with tiny gemstones, crowded every corner of the fabric. Etar couldn’t help staring at his jewel-decked hands. He had long, delicate fingers, as though made for minute tasks like building watches.

As soon as Hans closed the door, the man bowed, a gesture Etar had never received from anyone. “Starseer,” he said, soft and reverent.

Panic rose in Etar’s chest. How did this man know he was a Starseer? “Um. Hello?” he said, his mind struggling for coherent thought.

“It is such a great honor to finally meet you. I have been looking for you far and wide.”

Etar couldn’t parse the words from this man’s mouth, so he gaped instead of replying. His eyes pivoted from him to Hans in search of explanations, but Hans only fell back into a corner of the room.

“My name is Áehd, and I am an alchemist,” the man said.

An alchemist. A trade Etar only knew through books. To his knowledge, there had been alchemists and magicians in this castle long ago, but his uncle had expelled them all.

Etar supposed he should introduce himself, but he was too stunned to act properly. “How do you know I’m a Starseer?” he blurted out. No formal salutation. No bowing to receive his guest. It showed so glaringly that he hadn’t been raised as a royal.

The alchemist offered a gracious little laugh and pulled something out from between the folds of his tunic. When he opened his hand, a butterfly flew out of it.

At first, Etar thought it was a real butterfly because of how dainty its legs were and how its wings broke light, but on closer inspection, it was made of metal and colored crystals. It emanated a soft, bluish glow from under its belly.

“My constructs respond to energy, and no energy is more attractive to them than that of a Starseer,” Áehd said.

The butterfly kissed Etar’s face, making him flinch when it came close to his eyes, but he was afraid of breaking it if he flapped it away. Its glow intensified whenever it grazed his skin, and Etar could feel warmth wherever it alighted. After a while, the alchemist caged it in his fingers and put it away in his tunic.

The butterfly dredged out a memory of one such toy Etar had since childhood but which no longer possessed this butterfly’s agency.

Author Bio:

Katya is a writer, illustrator, and graphic designer who lives with her partner, two cats, and two dogs in sunny El Salvador.

Her cats are her harshest critics, but she loves them all the same.

When she’s not writing or drawing the fantasy worlds that live in her head, she’s cosplaying as the creepiest monsters from all her favorite horror movies.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram


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Giveaway – Undertaking Love by Megan Montgomery @XpressoTours

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Undertaking Love
Megan Montgomery
Publication date: April 1st 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Bethany West upgraded her lucrative career as a sex worker for her dream job as a death worker when she partnered at Smythe & Co. Mortuary. She expected her eco-friendly innovations and death positive attitude to blow the roof off the Victorian-era relic. But that was seven months ago, and during that time, she’s only managed to piss off her embittered business partner, George Smythe, a man dead set on maintaining the status quo and driving Bethany out of his namesake business.

When the pair reluctantly travel together to a mortuary conference in New Orleans—and compete in dueling embalming demonstrations—George finally recognizes the value of Bethany’s business model for the first time. He’s also starting to recognize a growing attraction to his blonde bombshell business partner. Meanwhile, Bethany learns the truth behind George’s cold contempt, and it’s much worse than she thought, stemming not from a single incident, but from the constant on-call status, the compassion fatigue, and the overwhelming stress of the job.

Bethany has 4 days to crack open his tough outer shell to reveal the compassionate man she knows is inside, and she has a plan, but unless George learns to open his heart and lean on her, at the risk of succumbing to their cremation-level attraction in a dangerous way, he’ll jeopardize both the business and their hearts by refusing the true partnership they both need.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT

Bethany

My body was broken.

I blinked hard to lubricate my eyes, struggling to stay awake behind the wheel. The vent blasted tepid air into my face, trying its damnedest to desiccate my skin and sabotage the efforts of my latest hyaluronic acid injections.

My stomach churned from too much coffee and too little sleep.

A sweat broke out under my arms and boobs.

Great. Now I could smell all that coffee excreting from my pores and ruining my favorite silk blouse.

I glanced at the man in the passenger seat.

George’s pores were looking perfectly dry, as usual. He wouldn’t think of sweating, even from the most strenuous effort.

I’d seen him pull a rotund, decomposing man out of that impossible space between the toilet and the bathtub and plop him on a mortuary cot in an un-air-conditioned, third-floor apartment in the middle of August without breaking a sweat.

The man never had a hair out of place, was never not freshly shaven, and he never forgot to button his suit jacket when he stood, or unbutton it when he sat.

And he was a consummate professional—as long as you didn’t work with him.

And as long as your name wasn’t Bethany West.

I breathed in a lungful of stale air. Even now, in the mortuary van, George managed to smell fresh, yet intensely masculine. The faintest notes of sandalwood and citrus wafted toward me as he fiddled with his ear, pushing his earbud deeper in.

I suspected he wasn’t listening to anything producing actual sound; the earbuds were just a tactic to try to keep me from making “unnecessary” conversation.

I was almost too tired to care.

I stifled a yawn, hoping he wouldn’t catch it.

He did, of course.

I saw the tick of his jaw from the corner of my eye. Glaring at the screen of the laptop balanced on his crossed legs, his flexed fingers hovering over the keyboard, a ballpoint pen clutched in his teeth.

I’d never seen the man smile except for a wince-like approximation of the real thing, and he saved that stingy expression for our clients.

After an entire life spent in the trenches of the funeral business, his handsome face was permanently etched into a show of bland sympathy—except when he scowled in contempt.

That expression was reserved exclusively for me.


Author Bio:

Megan Montgomery writes romance. Sometimes they’re funny. Sometimes they’re morbid, but all her characters have cool jobs. She and her husband, Johnathon Olavarria co-host Forced Proximity podcast, a weekly romance book and movie club.

Her debut novel, Well . . . THAT Was Awkward was inspired by her homesickness for southern Maryland. She now lives halfway across the US on the prairie with her husband, son, and mom.

When she’s not writing, reading, lifting weights, or cooking dinners her son won’t eat, you’ll find her toiling in the garden or brewing potions from her medicinal herbs.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Bookbub


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Giveaway – Stay With Me by Tam DeRudder Jackson @XpressoTours

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Stay For Me
Tam DeRudder Jackson
(The Balefire Series, #5)
Publication date: April 27th 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Garrett

I’ve made a few mistakes over the last decade, but the one I regret most was letting Olivia Carter go. When I see her again, the past crashes over me, reminding of everything I ever wanted and gave up when I let our dreams separate us.

Managing Balefire into the world’s biggest rock band came at a personal cost—walking away from my only love. When fate brings her back into my life, I’m determined not to screw up again. After Balefire hires her studio to produce their next music video, I have a second chance to rewrite our song—if I can convince her I’m a changed man.

Olivia

Ten years ago, Garrett Phillips chose to go with “his boys” and leave me in the dust of a ratty old tour bus. Now I’m working my ass off to make a name for myself as a Hollywood music video director. Unfortunately, my fledgling studio is bleeding money, and my only hope of saving it is to make a video with the biggest rock band on the planet. Too bad that means working with the man who tore my heart out of my chest when he chose his rock ’n’ roll dream over me.

He says he’s grown up. He says we can make things work. But can I truly trust that this time he will stay for me?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

Garrett’s nostrils flared, and he shifted on his stool. His eyes remained locked on mine as he slid his headphones from his head and set them aside. Cursing the tiny tremor in my hands, I removed my headphones and set them somewhere on the control board beside me.

“Olivia.”

My name on his lips rasped over me like calloused hands over my skin. Involuntary shivers rippled through me, and I clamped my thighs even tighter together.

I stopped whatever he wanted to say next with my finger pressed to his full lips. For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then he reached up and smoothed his fingers up my palm and higher along the length of my fingers. His eyes dipped to our hands. Though we barely touched, sensations like electric currents sparked every nerve, beginning in my hand and arcing up my arm to trip my heart nearly into arrhythmia. My breath caught as he slid his fingers through mine, up and down, up and down, before he twined our hands together with a gentle squeeze. I closed my eyes and worked to find some air.


Author Bio:

Tam DeRudder Jackson’s love of all things Celtic led her to write the Talisman Series. Steeped in Celtic mythology, these steamy, fated mates, paranormal romance adventures are set in the mountains of Tam’s native Montana and the Highlands of Scotland. Rogue, the most recent book in the series, was named a best romance of 2022 by the Independent Book Review.

An avid fan of rock music, Tam never misses a chance to see a live show, especially if it’s Shinedown, one of her favorite bands. Her love of rock music inspired her contemporary rock star Balefire Series, a sexy fun ride following the lives and loves of the members of a fictional mega-band. Readers of this series consistently give the books five-star reviews.

Tam earned her BA in English from Montana State University and her M.Ed. in literacy from Lesley University. After a short teaching stint in Bath, England, she settled in the wilds of Wyoming where she taught adolescents all about the Celts and a bit about writing before she stepped out of the classroom to pursue her writing career full time.

When she’s not writing, you can find her working her way through her mountainous TBR piles, alpine skiing, or traveling to some new place on her ever-expanding bucket list. To stay up to date on her adventures, connect with Tam on her website www.tamderudderjackson where you can subscribe to her newsletter.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram


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  • If you like what you see, why don’t you follow me?
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