$20 GC & Review – The Button Collector by M M Cochran @xpressotours

MY REVIEW

I love a good thriller, so when I saw the awesome cover for The button collector by M M Cochran, I was sucked right in. It doesn’t take long for me to become engrossed in the story.

Chicago journalist, Jessica Knight is being stalked and her relatives are being picked off, one after another. She feels she is constantly under watch by the killer. How long before her number comes up?

She hops from bed to bed, using and being used. I don’t have a lot of respect for her, but that doesn’t mean she deserves to be murdered,

They call HIM the The Button Collector because when he kills, he leaves one button sewing the victim’s mouth shut and takes one as a trophy.

I was reading, just cruising along, when BAM, the killer hits me in the face. I never saw it coming and it was a doozy. That alone makes the book worth reading.

Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos
4 Stars

The Button Collector
M.M. Cochran
Publication date: September 17th 2024
Genres: Adult, Psychological Thriller

When Chicago journalist Jessica Knight is linked to a string of odd murders happening across the country, her life takes a turn for the worse.

She is left wondering why her relatives are the ones dropping like flies under the signature mark of a serial killer . . . why she can’t stop thinking about Michael Bradley, the appealing detective assigned to protect her . . . and most of all, why, despite being the Button Collector’s prime target, she’s still alive at all. One thing she knows for certain: the killer is always watching. As the line between truth and deception begins to blur, Jessica crumbles under the dense web of lies she’s trying to keep straight–especially once the police start questioning more than just her sanity. With pressure mounting, Jessica must navigate being under the watchful eye of the police–and the killer–while risking it all in a dangerous game to make up for the mistakes of her past.

Her days are numbered…one way or the other.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT:

Chapter 1

The first thing I feel when I step outside my apartment building is his eyes on me.

They burn. They haunt. They’re always there, somehow finding me almost every day since the first murder.

Long shadows stretch over the brown patch of grass before my building. They’re soft on my boots and heavy on the winter flowers that need sun. Rain pelts down the petals, but I’m too cold to get my fingers wet and shake the water off the weak flowers.

The thick weather clouds the feeling of his surveillance, but I still close my eyes to escape it.

Count backwards from ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Okay, it’s gone.

Now open your eyes, I instruct myself.

It’s time to catch a cab. “Time to catch a cab,” I say.

Leave me alone. “Leave me alone,” I say.

The office buzzes with fluorescent lights over rickety desks made for half-hearted journalists. I slide between their narrow spaces and make my way to the associate editor’s desk. The editor in chief smokes in his office, and Della can tell me everything he knows, so I avoid him and his stench. It’s not something I can handle this morning, though on a good morning, I’d crave the smell of his cigarettes.

“Della, John wanted to see me? Why?” The tip of my umbrella taps the ground, sprinkling cold drops of leftover rain onto my pant leg.

She doesn’t even look at me, doesn’t even jump at the opportunity to comment on my red lipstick that’s too dark or my unshapely long coat. “He’s in his office.”

“But—”

“Jessica.”

The smoke in John’s office rolls onto me in waves of foggy white. My automatic response is to cough, clear my throat, but it would be nothing more than for show. He knows I’m used to it.

“Knight. Come here, I’ve got somethin’ for you.” He fingers me in and motions for me to take a seat. The dark leather on the chair does everything but absorb the moisture from my wet thighs.

He nudges a stack of papers in my direction. “Here’re some stories for the week that I came across over the weekend. Fire and Crime section looks like it’ll be good and full next issue, but I’d like you to start on this Button story. A profile about him to follow-up his murder we reported on last week. It’ll take some research, so I want your time and attention on this one. All week.” He taps the folder with his index and middle finger, keeping his cigarette in place between them. “Make it good. If you need me to get some intern on the other stuff, you just let me know, Knight. Let’s focus on this Button profile, and make sure to really center it around the freakshow killer more than the victims.”

John takes a long, focused drag off the cigarette. Blows it in a thin streak over his shoulder. Eyes me with a glare that’s crimped with sixty-year-old crow’s feet.

“You alright, Knight?”

“Fine. But why do you want me for this? I’m not investigative, just—”

“A hard crime reporter. I know. But you really proved yourself with investigative journalism skills after you covered that murder trial last month. I want to spread your wings a little more. Cover this Button story, Knight. It’s going to sell a lot of papers. Keep it up, and we’ll change your title to Investigative instead of just Crime Journalist.”

“Thanks, John, but I’m comfortable with my position.”

“I’ll give you a little raise, dear.” He wraps his lips around his cigarette and blows the smoke over his shoulder again. “And I’ll hire one of those interns to take over hard crime. Okay?”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“Well, we’ll see how this Button story goes.”

I nod.

“You sure you’re okay, Knight?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“Then shake that look off your face and get to work. I’d like to have that story by Thursday; I want the designers to arrange A1 layout around it. This’ll generate a lot of attention, you know. People are all over this Button Collector thing.”

“The word count?” I ask. I usually don’t have to talk word counts with him, but with big stories like this—like that trial—he always has some requirements to meet.

“Give me nine-hundred, no less.”

A knock on the door diverts his attention to behind me. “John,” the receptionist says, “a young lady would like to speak with you about advertisement.”

John pushes back his chair and stands, surrendering his cigarette to the dusty ash tray. “Stay here, Knight. I’ll be right back.”

My next breath is stifled by the smoke that folds into my face when he walks by. He leaves the door cracked behind him.

Author Bio:

As both a self-published and traditionally published author of YA fiction and a thriller, I know how vulnerable and scary handing your manuscript to an editor can be. . . But it is my job to take care of my clients and their stories, cherishing them as my own.
My novel, Between the Ocean the Stars, was ranked #2 at the worldwide distributors center upon publication and later named a finalist in the National Indie Excellence Awards. My next novel, The Button Collector, releases in 2024.

Website / Instagram


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$25 GC – Men Of The 65th by Talia Aikens Nunez #goddessfish

MEN OF THE 65TH by Talia Aikens-Nunez

GENRE:  YA nonfiction

BLURB

Honor and Fidelity. That is the motto of the 65th Infantry Regiment, also known as the Borinqueneers, the only Puerto Rican unit in the United States Army.

Since the regiment’s creation in 1899, the men of the 65th have proudly served the US through multiple wars, despite facing racial discrimination. Their courage, loyalty, and patriotism earned them hundreds of accolades, including the Congressional Gold Medal in 2014.

But the honor and fidelity of the men of the 65th came into question in 1952, in the midst of the Korean War, when ninety-one Borinqueneers were arrested and tried for desertion and disobeying orders. How could this happen in one of the most distinguished and decorated units of the Army?

In this telling of one of the forgotten stories of the Korean War, author Talia Aikens-Nuñez guides us through the history of the Borinqueneers and the challenges they faced leading up to what was the largest court martial in the entire war. Rediscover the bravery of the men of the 65th through Aikens-Nuñez’s thorough writing and the soldiers’ firsthand accounts of the Korean War.

EXCERPT

[T]he US public was shocked to discover that during the war, 162 soldiers of the 65th Infantry Regiment had been court-martialed and ninety-one of those soldiers found guilty of disobeying orders and desertion.

The US military kept the courts-martial quiet. But the soldiers of the 65th sent letters to their families describing what was happening, which led to public outcry and confusion from the press. How could one of the most distinguished regiments of the Korean War, whose soldiers had only months before been praised by General Douglas MacArthur for their “brilliant record of heroism,” become involved in the largest mass court-martial of the Korean War?

Did the Borinqueneers lose their bravery and heroism in such a short time? Or were they victims of discrimination in a prejudiced and segregated system? Were they betrayed by the country they risked their lives for?

This is the story of one of the bravest and most decorated regiments in the history of the US military. It is a forgotten story in a forgotten war. But it is a story of patriotism, loyalty, and bravery in the face of danger and discrimination, and it is one that deserves to be told. -page 10

AUTHOR Bio and Links

Talia Aikens-Nuñez writes chapter books, picture books, and nonfiction for children. Her daughter inspired her to write her OMG Series of books about an accidental little witch. She and her husband live on a river in Connecticut with their daughter and son.

Amazon buy link: https://amzn.to/4cHnzpJ

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$20 GC – In The MIdst Of Shadows by Nicol Italia @xpressotours

In the Midst of Shadows
Nicola Italia
Genres: Adult, Historical, Mystery

In the Victorian era, a cheap and popular form of entertainment has entranced the population often known by the name; penny dreadful. Costing a penny, readers purchased the stories and entered the fantastic world of superhuman men and damsels in distress.

The stories have been popular for over fifty years and Lavinia Howard is a young woman who dreams of being such a writer. Having recently lost her father, she turns to a family friend who puts her in touch with Jasper Courtenay, owner of Courtenay Publishing.

Writing under the pen name G. R. Howard, Lavinia creates a character who becomes a huge success as her penny dreadful stories are the most popular ever printed. Her character is brash and obnoxious and has no respect for authority as he solves London murders and the working classes adore him!

But strange things begin to happen as the stories Lavinia writes start to come true. Two very similar deaths mirror those she writes about, and Detective Chief Inspector Harrison Bryce is assigned to investigate. Inspector Bryce soon discovers that Lavinia has become so popular that she has also made enemies along with her legion of fans.

He realizes that everyone surrounding Lavinia has a motive to have committed the crimes. He must work fast to determine who wants to harm her as he suspects Lavinia may be the next target on the killer’s list.

Also on audio – The Belle of London

Goodreads / Purchase

EXCERPT:

Casimir Kimberly strode resolutely past the throng of people gathered in the alley who were trying to catch a glimpse of the body of the woman lying at the foot of the wooden stairs. His black woolen overcoat reached to his knees and he could feel the material swirl about his legs as he walked. Casimir was not a man given to fanciful dress or cologne as some dandies and French men were known to be, but damn did he love his coat.

He made eye contact with a policeman keeping the crowd under control and the man immediately motioned for Casimir to make his way through the circle of people. Casimir glanced over his shoulder and saw that Ralphie was behind him but lagging. The man was always falling behind.

As he came closer to the body lying in an odd position from the fall, a flash of lightning dominated the sky and he looked up. It was early in the morning and most people were still in bed. The crowd that was gathered now must be the dead woman’s neighbors or local tradespeople.

He felt around in his coat pocket for his John Millar & Sons tin and took out one drop and popped it into his mouth. As the delicious flavors of black currant and licorice filled his mouth, he began to study the crowd surrounding him. He first surveyed the middle-aged men, then the women. He knew what he was searching for and his heart beat faster as the lightning flashed once more through the morning sky.

He sat back on his haunches, surveying the body before him. He had been told a portion of the woman’s story when the police had summoned him. The charwoman had lived on the second floor and the stairs leading to the flat were outside in the alleyway. Sometime in the night, the woman had fallen down the stairs and broken her neck. Some in the police said it was an accident, others were not so convinced. He had been called in to look over the scene and give his opinion. Casimir wasn’t a detective with Scotland Yard nor a private investigator who worked for the Pinkerton Detective Agency, but he was blessed—or cursed, depending on whom you asked—with an abnormal understanding of crime, its victims, and most importantly the offenders.

Casimir suddenly looked up. He sniffed the air distinctly with several sniffs to the right and then to the left and narrowed his eyes.

“Ralphie,” he growled once.

“Yes, Guvnor,” came the quick reply from the man standing nearby.

“Move that fishmonger down the lane,” Casimir said simply. “All I can smell is his two-day-old mackerel.”

“Aye, Guvnor.”

The fishmonger was moved along but Casimir’s sense of smell was compromised. He swore inwardly. He always liked to get a sense of the crime scene’s smell. The blood, the vomit, the rain, the earth. Each had its own distinct smell and each told its own story. He looked down at the body and noticed the shabbiness of her nightdress, the small feet, and the hands used to hard work. The woman was probably in her forties but her weathered face looked closer to sixty. Her forehead was deeply lined, her eyes sunken into her skeletal face.

As he took in her worn hands, he noticed something peculiar. On the ring finger of her left hand there was no ring but lighter skin where a ring had once been. He knew the woman was married.

Casimir stood up abruptly, causing the onlookers around him to gasp. He shook his head and looked about at the group. He had been so absorbed in concentrating on the woman he had forgotten about the people surrounding him in the alleyway. He looked back into the group, his eyes searching for what he had seen before to assure himself that he was correct. His eyes narrowed when he saw the exchange and then he almost grinned. This was too easy, he told himself.

He strode forward, his long legs covering vast amounts of space before he stood before a stout, well-built man in the crowd. The man had the look of a stonemason, not very tall but built like a solid bull. He eyed the man quietly, looking over his beefy chest, his bulging forearms, his black hair sprinkled with gray, and the cap he held in his hands respectfully. Casimir narrowed his eyes and watched the man glance quickly to his right and then away again.

Following his gaze, he saw what the man was looking at. A small red-haired woman with a large bosom and thick ankles. She smiled shyly back at the man before he looked away.

“He did it,” Casimir said loudly and strongly, pointing to the stonemason.

Author Bio:

Nicola is a Los Angeles native. Early in elementary school, Nicola had a great fondness for reading and began to write creatively. She graduated from university with a degree in communications and has held a variety of positions in journalism, education, government and non profit.

Nicola has traveled extensively throughout Europe, China, Central America and Egypt and loves all things historical.

She has nineteen historical romance and mystery novels on Amazon.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Bookbub / Amazon


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$15 GC – Heroic Measures by Joel Shulkin MD @partnersincr1me

Heroic Measures by Joel Shulkin, MD Banner

HEROIC MEASURES

by Joel Shulkin, MD

September 16-20, 2024 Book Blast

Synopsis:

Heroic Measures by Joel Shulkin, MD

Death Benefits

 

Stephen Englehart, an Armed Forces medical examiner. dedicates his life to bringing peace to the families of fallen soldiers. Tagged as one of the best, he’s able to spot forensic clues others miss. But when the body of a US Marine, supposedly burned beyond recognition, shows up with hardly a scratch, even Stephen is stumped. Were the bodies switched? Then, in the middle of the autopsy, the impossible happens.

The soldier wakes up.

Something incredible—and dangerous—is happening to the military’s elite, and Stephen may be the only one who can figure it out. And when Stephen’s sister, a Green Beret, goes missing, the entire military machine seems designed to stop him from finding her. To find the truth and save his sister, one man must stand against an army. Can he be the hero he never thought he could?

Praise for Heroic Measures:

“A rollercoaster ride filled with thrills and intrigue.”
~ Reader’s Favorite

“A high-octane blend of action and intrigue where the momentum rarely lets up.”
~ Book Viral Reviews

“A powder-keg combination of military, medical, and technothriller. Buckle in for a wild and suspenseful ride.”
~ Meg Gardiner, #1 New York Times bestselling author

“Rips through twists and turns that will make you dizzy.”
~ Lisa Black, New York Times bestselling author

“If you want a fast, heart-pounding thriller that you can’t put down, make Heroic Measures your next read.”
~ Jennifer Graeser Dornbush, crime author

“If you love a good thriller, Heroic Measures is a must-read…With plot twists around every corner, this novel will have you hooked from the very first page, making it a great choice for just about any reader.”
~ Book Nerdection

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller (forensic military thriller with superhero and sci-fi tropes)
Published by: Zero Dark Publications
Publication Date: September 17, 2024
Number of Pages: 382
ISBN: 979-8990018808
Series: Death Benefits
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | BookBub | Goodreads || Additional Formats & Editions – including Hardcover and Audio

Read an excerpt:

Prologue

The first thing US Marine Corporal Mark Greenwood noticed when he woke up half-buried in a sand dune was the intense heat. He hated the heat. He hated the desert.

So, when he realized he was on fire, he was downright pissed.

“Shit!” he shouted, and patted his burning arms. He rolled in the sand until he managed to douse the flames on his head and shoulders.

When he was sure he was no longer burning, he stood and assessed his situation. He was outside the ruins of what looked like some kind of medical building. Chunks of rubble lay scattered around him, half burying the broken and charred bodies of what he assumed had once been human men. A smoke trail rose from inside the building and twisted away on a dust devil. The interior walls glowed amber. Mark sniffed the air. Odors of propellant, charcoal, and blood assaulted him. An air traffic control tower loomed over him, and beyond it, an air strip stretched toward the horizon.

Pain shot through his skull. Electric.

He jammed one palm against the back of his head—it felt wet, sticky. He gnashed his teeth.

“Relief,” he whispered. “Relief, damn it.”

A cool wave washed over his body. The pain subsided.

The corporal lowered his hand. Blood covered it. Blood and some kind of grayish stuff.

The world around him shimmered, like a mirage. He squeezed his eyes shut and counted to ten, then opened them again. Blinked several times. No more shimmering. Better.

It’d been a long time since he’d felt pain like that. Something must’ve hit him hard. But he didn’t have time to figure out what it was.

“Foxtrot team,” he said into his radio, his voice deep and raspy. “What’s your position?”

The radio crackled and hissed.

“This is Greenwood. Hostiles are down. I repeat. Hostiles are down. Awaiting orders.”

Still no response.

“Sergeant, where the fuck are you?”

Automatic rifles popped in the distance. Mark scanned the ground. Where was his M27?

More gunfire. Well, he didn’t need a rifle, anyway.

Pebbles kicked up in a wake behind him as he sprinted across the sand.

Something felt off. His right leg wobbled with each footfall. He had to fight to keep his six-foot frame balanced as he ran. After a few seconds, he stopped and looked down.

A jagged piece of white bone poked through his Combat Utility Uniform below the knee. The camouflage was stained black.

“Shit on a stick.” Mark bent over to push the bone back into place. Pain shot up his thigh. Gritting his teeth, he kept his fingertip pressed on the bone and started counting. He could feel the bone weaving together, and when he reached sixty, he let go. The bone still felt unstable, but it would have to do. He resumed his sprint.

The Humvee stood perched atop a dune half a klick away, the front passenger tire flat. He spotted Lance Corporal John Kirby inside the armored turret, manning the M2 cannon. He couldn’t see Sergeant Grant or the others.

Movement caught his eye. Off to the left.

Two soldiers holding rifles raced toward the Humvee.

A fly buzzed by his ear. Mark swatted it away and focused.

Hostiles!

Something popped inside his skull. Tiny shocks jolted his brain, forcing him to stop running. He pressed both palms against his head and roared in agony.

“Relief. Relief. Relief.”

The pain washed away. He lowered his hands.

Eliminate all resistance.

The voice came from inside his head. Toneless. Genderless. Commanding.

Adrenaline surged through his body. The last remnants of pain vanished.

Mark squinted. The hostiles were only a quarter klick from the Humvee. Why wasn’t Kirby shooting at them? It was almost like . . .

Eliminate all resistance.

With a grunt, Mark ran. Harder. Faster. He closed the distance in less than five seconds.

The hostiles turned and raised their rifles.

He ripped their weapons away, snapping their wrists. The hostiles screamed.

He tossed one rifle to the ground and swung the other with both hands. The stock smashed in the face of one of the hostiles. The other tried to run. Mark shot him in the back, turned, and finished off the one he’d battered.

Another fly buzzed in his ear. He wiggled his finger in the canal until it stopped. Fucking desert bugs.

Someone shouted from the Humvee.

The M2 roared to life, fifty-caliber rounds whizzing through the air.

Mark froze. Why was Kirby firing at him?

A round slammed into Mark’s shoulder, ripping a hole through the muscle. He screamed and forced himself to stare through the haze of white-hot pain at the Humvee turret.

No, it wasn’t Kirby. Son of a bitch. That was why he hadn’t shot at the hostiles. The man at the cannon was a hostile.

Another round grazed his thigh. Rage burned a swath through his body. He threw away the rifle and dashed toward the Humvee.

The cannon kept firing at him. He ignored the rounds pummeling his body armor, even the ones that managed to penetrate his side and abdomen.

Mark scrambled over the Humvee’s hood and leaped onto the roof.

The hostile punched at him. Mark caught the fist and twisted, hearing and feeling a loud crack.

That earned a scream. Mark grabbed the hostile’s throat with his other hand. He squeezed, and the neck snapped.

Mark hurled the lifeless body onto the sand.

“Greenwood!”

The voice sounded familiar. Mark looked down.

A US Marine stood next to the Humvee, aiming an SSW40 grenade launcher at him. It took a moment for the corporal to recognize Sergeant Gardner Grant. He was about Mark’s height and build but lacked the hard edges. On the ground nearby, another Marine nursed her injured leg with one hand and leveled an M18 pistol with the other. Corporal Micaela Deodato.

Grant’s eyes widened, his lips twisting into a grimace as he asked, “What the hell happened to you?”

Mark tried to process a response but couldn’t. He’d just saved them from the hostiles. Why were they pointing guns at him?

“Why did you kill those men?”

Again, Mark stumbled over the question. But this time he was able to find an answer. “I was following orders.”

“Not my orders. Whose?”

Eliminate all resistance.

The world shimmered. That fucking fly buzzed in his ear again.

Mark rubbed his eyes and squinted.

Something about Grant’s face wasn’t right. It looked like him—but it wasn’t. Mark glanced at Deodato. Same with her. Their eyes were cold. Distant.

They’d flipped sides.

Mark swung the M2 around and locked on to Grant.

“You traitors!” he shouted.

“Corporal,” Grant said, keeping the SSW40 trained on Mark. “Stand down.”

Sweat streamed down the corporal’s cheeks. His shoulders tightened. This was total FUBAR. His whole team couldn’t have betrayed him.

Eliminate all resistance.

He tightened his grip on the cannon. It didn’t matter. He had to complete his mission.

“Get down, Sergeant!” Deodato shouted. Her pistol fired.

Bullets streaked toward Mark. One grazed his cheek. The other buried itself in his arm. He roared and rotated the M2 in her direction. The cannon spat at Deodato, and she crumpled to the ground.

The SSW40 in Grant’s hands made a heavy thump-thump sound. Grenades whizzed toward Mark.

The world exploded.

***

Excerpt from Heroic Measures by Joel Shulkin, MD. Copyright 2024 by Joel Shulkin, MD. Reproduced with permission from Joel Shulkin, MD. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Joel Shulkin, MD

Joel Shulkin, MD is the author of Adverse Effects and Toxic Effects, the first two novels in the Memory Thieves series, and he has penned award-winning short stories and poetry. A developmental-behavioral pediatrician and United States Air Force veteran with a master’s inpublic health, Joel lives in Florida with his wife, two daughters, and two puppies.

Catch Up With Joel Shulkin, MD:
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Twitter/X – @drjoelshulkin
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$25 GC – Time Marked Warlock by Shami Stovall @goddessfish @GameOverStation

Everything about Time Marked Warlock by Shami Stovall appealed to me and I got more than I expected. I love the combination of private investigator and magic. I do love some light heartedness with my murder and Shami supplies plenty.

I really enjoyed the characters Adair Finch, a warlock and private investigator, a young girl, Bree, and Kull, a spirit. I love how they learned to work together. Bree brought Adair back to the world of the living. He had isolated himself after his brother’s death, feeling he was responsible. Bree came to him after her mother was murdered and her father was kidnapped. Her mother had told her that he could be trusted. She is so cute and determined. He soon finds he cannot deny her anything.

Adair also has the ability to turn back time, and it really came in handy. If something went hinky, he would rewind time and fix whatever didn’t work the first time. And it definitely came in handy, seeing there was so much going on he could never be prepared for everything.

Time Marked Warlock by Shami Stovall is fast paced, unputdownable.

If you like the paranormal and mysteries, Time Marked Warlock is sure to fit on your reading list. I feel this can stand alone, but there is more than one mystery and only one has been solved. Because I don’t know if I’ll be around to find the answers for the unsolved mystery, the book has to pay the price, the lack of that fifth star for an excellent rating.

Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos
4 Stars

Amazon / Audiobook / Goodreads

TIME-MARKED WARLOCK

Shami Stovall

GENRE:  Urban Fantasy

BLURB

Adair Finch is the most powerful warlock in the world, and one of the best private investigators for hire. He has dealt with corporate vampires, murderous werewolves, and even fae royalty. Everything was perfect until he lost one case—the case where he also lost his brother.

So Finch retired. From magic. From PI work. From everything.

Bree Blackstone, a twelve-year-old witch, doesn’t know or care about any of that except Finch’s reputation. In the middle of the night, she bangs on Finch’s door. Her mother has been murdered, and now the assassin is after Bree as well.

Reluctantly, Finch agrees to help, only to discover something sinister has been brewing in town while he ignored the world… He’ll need to dust off all his old skills and magic before it’s too late.

EXCERPT

Finch sighed.

Right as he was about to turn to head inside, a loud crack rang out across the parking lot.

Blood splattered across the Nissan. Dr. Colton hit the side of the vehicle and tumbled to the asphalt, a hole in the side of his chest, his brown outfit quickly soaking in crimson.

Another crack, and Finch understood what was happening. Someone was shooting at them. Somewhere far off. Only rifles made that harsh kind of bang that sounded like something cracking in half.

Bree didn’t even have time to cry out. She fell forward, shot in the back, and hit the ground hard.

A third shot was coming, but Finch didn’t give the shooter a chance.

Finch manipulated time itself.

Everything froze. The leaves in the trees, the cars on the distant road—even the wind.

Then the color drained from the world, turning it into a black-and-white movie devoid of all vibrancy. The shadows were pitch black, and the sky a pool of pristine white.

One by one, all the nearby objects melted away, unraveled by Chronos’s powerful and disturbing time magic. The university disappeared. The cars disappeared. Even the people—Bree and Dr. Colton—until there was nothing left but an empty, white void.

Finch’s body jerked. He blinked his eyes.

And then he was back in his bed, dressed in his ratty pajamas, flailing around in the sheets. He sat up, his heart hammering.

His phone displayed the time.

4:34am.

AUTHOR Bio and Links

Shami Stovall is a multi-award-winning author of fantasy and science fiction. Before that, she taught history and criminal law at the college level, and loved every second. When she’s not reading fascinating articles and books about ancient China or the Byzantine Empire, Stovall can be found playing way too many video games, especially RPGs and tactics simulators, or hugging John.

If you want to contact her, you can do so at the following locations:

Website: https://sastovallauthor.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/GameOverStation/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SAStovall/

Email: s.adelle.s@gmail.com

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3YVThw7

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$10 GC & Review – Crossing Day by William A Glass @goddessfish

CROSSING DAY by William A. Glass

GENRE:  Young Adult/Alternate History

Crossing Day is a thought provoking novel that I think is a warning to us. It seems Germany won the war, as did the Confederacy. They work together against the United States in the North. Slavery is still alive and well, as are the Nazis (written with sarcasm).

Crossing Day is about a group of kids that want to right an injustice, when a slave they like is bought by a bully’s father. They may have different lives from each other, but they all want to be free. Free from the heavy arm of Nazism and slavery in the Confederacy.

When I first began reading, I was confused about what the Germans had to do with the Confederacy and slavery and why they were over here. I would have liked to read more about that to clarify the situation. I think, the Confederacy thinks they seceded from the union, but they only put themselves in a worse situation with Germany running the show.

I love the group of kids that refuse to bow down and accept their fate, escaping to the North. They only thing is, they have to get through the unoccupied zone, which is not unoccupied. Those that used to live there came back and it has become the Wild West. Slavery is still practiced. The group learned to walk in someone else’s shoes. They are so close to freedom they can see it. They just have to cross the river to get to it.

I first became interested in alternate history books when my father in law started reading them. He was quite the history buff and I used to read a lot about WWII and the Vietnam War, when I was younger. To see it from a different angle can make us realize how fragile democracy is. I mean, just look at current events.

I do love books that get my brain working and Crossing Day did that in a big way. I might have to check out more of William A Glass’ novels.

I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of Crossing Day by William A Glass.

Animated Animals. Pictures, Images and Photos
4 Stars

BLURB

It’s been one hundred and sixty years since the Confederacy won its independence at the Battle of Altamaha Crossing. Slaves of African descent still perform most of the work in the South. This seems normal to Ryan Walters and his friends who attend high school in Huntsville, Alabama. Like teens everywhere, they enjoy sharing videos, playing sports, and hanging out with friends. Jaybird’s drive-in is their favorite gathering place. There, they befriend Mish, a slave girl who works as a car hop. When the drive-in’s owner sells Mish to a dirty old man, Ryan and his friends awaken to the injustice around them. Despite the danger, they decide to help Mish escape. Will they succeed?

EXCERPT

Melanie wanders into the dining room and finds her parents already seated at the table with their personal slaves standing behind them. Her mother, Dorothy, takes a sip of orange juice and replaces the glass on the lace tablecloth. Her servant, Natty, immediately gets a pitcher from the sideboard and refills the glass. Meanwhile, James is smiling at Melanie. “Morning, Miss,” he says. The white-haired Black man pulls out her chair. Once she’s seated, he spreads a cloth napkin over her lap.

“What was all the ruckus at Jaybird’s last night?” Dan Montgomery asks. He’s the mayor of Huntsville and knows everything.

“A German boy started it,” Melanie says defensively.

“Yes, and his father already called me to complain. He’s a big wheel at The Space Flight Complex.”

“Sorry!”

Montgomery points to the syrup. His slave, Parker, reaches for it and then pours. “Enough,” Montgomery snaps. He turns back to Melanie. “You and all the others will have a week of detention.”

Melanie gasps. “What about cheerleading practice?”

“You should have thought of that before you went to the drive-in. That’s where all the delinquents hang out and you with them.”

“I won’t go anymore. Please.” Melanie bats her baby blues at her father. His expression melts. “Go to detention after school today, and maybe we’ll see about tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Montgomery cuts off a bite of pancake and pops it into his mouth. That reminds Melanie to eat as well. It’s almost time for the bus.

AUTHOR Bio and Links

Bill is a retired business executive who now lives in a small southern town with his wife, Bettina. She’s a retired high school German teacher. Bill coaches soccer at a small college. Often, Bettina, who has a commercial driver’s license, pilots the soccer team bus to away games.

Bettina and Bill have three sons, Alex, Robert, and Gordon who have all graduated from college and moved away to pursue careers. Instead of having an empty nest, Bettina and Bill now host three rescue dogs. They enjoy finding promising hiking trails to explore with their dogs.

  • Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/william.glass.50767
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The Spotlight is on Soul Love by D F Jones @pumpupyourbook


 


Soul Love is a spellbinding tale of time travel, past lives, and an unbreakable romance that transcends the ages, proving that true love is never lost.



Title: Soul Love

Author: D.F. Jones

Publication Date: September 3, 2024

Pages: 160

Genre: Fantasy/Time Travel Romance/ Past Lives Romance

From USA Today bestselling author D.F. Jones comes Soul Love, a mesmerizing tale of past lives, time travel, and an unbreakable bond that transcends time itself.

What if a simple dinner invitation could change your life forever?

When Summer Jewel accepts a dinner invitation from her enigmatic new neighbor, her world is turned upside down. Suddenly transported to 1926 Heartsville, she uncovers shocking truths about a past life she never knew existed. This revelation ignites a journey brimming with turbulent emotions and undeniable desires, leaving her questioning everything she thought she knew.

Meanwhile, Rogan Randolph, a dedicated agent of The Order of the Invisible Effect, is tasked with subtly guiding the course of human history. His orderly world is thrown into chaos when a portal to his own past unexpectedly opens, offering him a chance to right a wrong. His mission becomes inextricably linked with Summer’s, as she is the very woman he encounters in the future.

Together, Summer and Rogan must navigate the intricate complexities of love and destiny, confronting the mysteries of their intertwined past lives. Their actions ripple through time, challenging the very fabric of reality and altering the course of their journey. True love is never lost, and some connections last forever.

Escape into Soul Love, where destiny and passion weave a captivating narrative that explores the enduring power of love and the intriguing possibilities of fate.

Prepare to be swept off your feet with this spellbinding story of love, loss, and the magic of second chances.

Soul Love is available at Amazon.

 


Book Excerpt:



“Summer ventured out the side pedestrian door, her gaze drawn to the moving activity. Three men were unloading furniture from the truck, one clearly in charge. As their eyes met, Summer felt a sudden rush of nervousness.

She approached her mailbox, and one of the men raised his hand in greeting. She fumbled with a piece of junk mail. “Moving in?” she called out.

He walked to the end of the driveway. “Hi, I’m Erik, the designer.” Without waiting for her response, he quickly asked, “Have you ever met the owners?”

How odd. “Um. No. Why? Haven’t you?”

“I hoped you might know them. We worked through an attorney who never disclosed their names.” He shrugged. “No harm in asking.”

“I love the house. Is there any chance I could peek inside?” Sure, it was forward of her, but it might be the only way to satisfy her curiosity.

Erik nodded. “This is our last load of furniture, so why not? I love showing off my work.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card. “I’m posting the project online. I would appreciate it if you’d leave a glowing comment on social media.” His hands tented.

“Sure thing.” Summer hated social media but took his card anyway.

She followed him up the painted plank steps through the open door.

An elaborate crystal chandelier hung in the entry. In front of her, the rich mahogany staircase dazzled against a backdrop of blue-green textured walls. A baby grand piano was positioned in the living room corner to the left of a rock fireplace. The art over the mantel looked like a Renoir. She wondered if it was an original or a reproduction.

Then something weird happened. The hair on her neck and arms rose. She had a deja vu feeling as if she had been there before. Trying to shake off the unsettling sensation, she turned in a slow circle and said, “It’s beautiful, better than I even imagined. I love it!”

Erik seemed pleased with her assessment, grinning from ear to ear. “I chose warm, rich colors. I can’t stand the fact that most designers are like sheep. The minimalists’ interior design with white is so overused and blah,” he said with an eye roll. “I updated the lighting fixtures and completely renovated the central kitchen. It’s three stories with the attic and a downstairs complete with a cookery and staff rooms.”

A mover dropped one end of a very expensive-looking bureau. Erik shouted, “Do not scratch the floors or furniture.” Then he glanced apologetically at Summer. “I’ve got to work. I have a deadline with instructions to leave the house by seven o’clock this evening. Feel free to look around.”

Yippee—freedom’s call echoed in her heart, inviting her to explore uninhibited. Summer drifted through the library first. Its walls were lined with ancient, leather-bound books. The scent of old paper and the hushed tales of forgotten lore surrounded her, igniting a thrill only a true book lover could understand and appreciate. Each step was a dance with history as her fingers trailed over the spines, noting the weight in their textured covers.

The library seamlessly gave way to an entertainment room, where contemporary met old-world design, asserting itself with an audacious flair. A large, ultra-high-definition television screen dominated one wall, surrounded by a state-of-the-art sound system. Soft, ambient lighting emanated from cleverly hidden sources, casting a glow that accentuated luxurious furnishings from the plush, angular sofa to the gleaming, geometric coffee table.

The kitchen made a bold statement with its brand-new stainless-steel appliances, rustic oak cabinets, and white and gray marble counters. The walk-in pantry door was ajar, so she peeked inside to find it vast and orderly, a trove of culinary possibilities. She suspected exotic spices and gourmet delights filled the closed shelves and drawers.

Adjacent to this culinary haven, a set of narrow, almost secretive steps curled upward, their very existence a whisper of intrigue. She glanced furtively over her shoulder. Erik was absorbed in positioning the remaining pieces in the living room.

Her pulse quickened with the thrill of undercover exploration. Memories of countless novels she had devoured over the years surged within her—a cascade of adventures, hidden rooms, and undiscovered treasures that had always seemed worlds away were now seemingly within her grasp. With each step into the unknown, her pulse quickened with anticipation, and her mind buzzed. What secrets and mysteries lay hidden in this century-old home?

Summer hustled up the stairs, bypassed the second floor, and continued into the attic. She’d long fantasized about writing a novel in such a superb, renovated space with its black, charcoal walls and a shade darker woodwork, a cozy white sofa with black and gold accent pillows—and how she loved the black lacquer desk. The lighting included several sconces with candle-like bulbs that glimmered warmly. It was a nice touch. She murmured, “Totally jealous of the owners.”

She peered through the horizontally installed cameo windows, the view of which looked directly at her house. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a shimmering swirling blue light materialized on the other side of the room. It formed a doorway of sorts, like beams of a hidden sun trapped within its frame, defying the laws of physics and reality.

What the heck? Summer cautiously approached, each step filled with fear and fascination. She reached out tentatively toward the opening, her hand trembling slightly. Was it a gateway to worlds unseen?

But Erik’s appearance on the top step jolted her back to reality just before her fingers could graze the pulsating energy. As if responding to his intrusion, the portal vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind a blank wall devoid of any clue to its mysterious existence.

She struggled to process what she had just witnessed. Was the ethereal light a trick of nature? A figment of her imagination? The silence that enveloped the room was heavy with unspoken questions, the air charged with the residue of the inexplicable.”

– Excerpted from Affiliate Marketing for Beginners by Audrey K. Andado, Allenjo Publishing, 2024. Reprinted with permission.

 

About the Author

USA Today Best-Selling Author, #1 International Bestseller, #1 Amazon Bestseller, D. F. Jones began her career as a broadcast consultant at the ABC Affiliate in Nashville, which led her to open an advertising agency. She downsized her agency to care for her parents. Writing is a source of creative expression for D.F. Jones, but it also releases stress. Writing takes her to a place where anything is possible, and fiction takes her to a place made of dreams.

Whether it’s angels and demons, time travel adventures, witches, wizards, or ghosts, her books are action-packed with supernatural and romantic elements.

She’s happily married to the love of her life and best friend. They have two beautiful sons whom she loves and adores more than life itself. She loves to laugh, and her husband keeps her in stitches! She’s a fan of the Tennessee Titans and enjoys working in her flower gardens.

Website http://www.dfjonesauthor.com 

Twitter https://twitter.com/Author_DFJones 

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/DFJones.author  

Instagram https://instagram.com/D.F.Jones_Author 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/GoodreadscomdfjonesAuthor




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$25 GC – The Courtesan’s Pirate by Nina Wachsman @partnerincr1me

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THE COURTESAN’S PIRATE

by Nina Wachsman

September 9 – October 4, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

The Courtesan's Pirate by Nina Wachsman

Venice Beauties Mysteries

 

1614. At long last, Belladonna has been reunited with Isaak, a pirate captain, on the island of Jamaica. Amidst the chaos of hurricanes and Spanish marauders, they are separated. When she discovers her beloved Isaak is captured and bound for execution in Spain, Belladonna goes back to Venice, planning to leverage her allies to save him, only to learn her influence has diminished. Now facing cunning adversaries and shifting alliances, she must navigate perilous intrigues in a high-stakes bid to rescue Isaak from a tragic fate. Belladonna risks everything, including her own safety, in a daring gambit to save the man she loves.

Praise for The Courtesan’s Pirate:

“Join Belladonna and Isaak on a Caribbean quest filled with rich history, dangerous risks, and suspenseful intrigue. Will the couple be reunited? Can Belladonna save her love and her soul? If you like an atmospheric adventure story, you’ll love The Courtesan’s Pirate. Witty and engaging!”
~ Kelly Oliver, author of The Fiona Figg & Kitty Lane Mysteries

“From the pirate-infested waters of the Caribbean to the silken-clad intrigues of Venice, Nina Wachsman vividly recreates life, and particularly the dangers faced by Jews, in the turbulent 17th century. Exciting and richly textured, with strong, admirable female characters.”
~ Alyssa Maxwell, author of The Gilded Newport Mysteries

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Suspense
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: September 1, 2024
Number of Pages: 350
Series: Venice Beauties Mysteries, Book 3
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

PART 1 – THE NEW WORLD

CHAPTER 1 – BELLADONNA

THE ISLAND OF JAMAICA, The fifth of NOVEMBER, 1614

“Just a short trip to Curacao,” Isaak said, as he stood beside her on the dock, “I will return shortly, I promise.”

Belladonna wondered how many women had heard the very same words from their fathers, sons, and lovers, and how many had returned to their families, as promised.

“Why must you go?” Belladonna had waited so long and given up so much to be with Isaak. She secretly believed their union was at risk every time they were away from each other.

“Despite our efforts to attract the English to Jamaica, the Spanish have moved faster, and the heirs of Christopher Columbus have been bought off. We need to find somewhere else to settle,” Isaak said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

She raised her eyes skyward, to keep the tears from rising. “Then my brother died for naught.”

“We cannot change the past, but we must try to find the way to our future, for you and I and for your brother Roderigo’s family. Curacao has been abandoned by the Spanish and will soon become part of the dominion of the Dutch West India Company.”

Belladonna wanted to believe his promise, but after a life tossed about at the whim of Fate, it seemed like random interventions could foil any plan they made for the future.

Isaak caressed her cheek. “It is also a port of call of the Jewish Brethren. Under the Dutch we have little to fear. The Dutch are the only nation who does not force its Jews to live separately in a Ghetto. We will soon formalize our union. There lies our potential future.”

Belladonna sighed. “In Curacao do you believe no one will care about our origins ̶ if we are Jew or Christian?”

Like her sister-in-law Mariella, she had begun life as the daughter of a New Christian landowner who had sought freedom in the New World. In a terrible twist of Fate, on a visit to Recife, Brazil, the Inquisition had murdered her parents because of their Jewish heritage, turning her into a refugee. Luck had found her, and she had been rescued by Isaak from Barbary pirates. Thanks to Isaak she had been taken to Venice, but he had soon set sail once more, leaving her to save others from captivity.

When Isaak returned to Venice to reunite her with her brother Roderigo, feelings between the courtesan and the corsair were rekindled, and Belladonna made her decision to sail with Isaak. Giving up her palazzo, her wealth and servants had gone against her usual cynicism but for once, she had chosen love over security.

“It is worth the chance,” said Isaak, and then he pulled her close, “You must stop nourishing your guilt over the death of Roderigo. You have come here to take care of his family as you promised. And we have accomplished the impossible: we are together at last.”

Belladonna acknowledged her satisfaction with her decision. “Over the past year in Jamaica and with you, I have discovered the comfort of family, which had been missing from my life for so long. Why dare Fate to disrupt our happiness once more?”

Isaak looked beyond her towards the sea. “There is a storm coming, which will provide us with a distraction to sail by Spanish war ships gathering along the coast.” He lifted her chin and brushed her lips with a last kiss. “Both the storm and the Spanish ships represent a bad omen. But do not fear, I am a seasoned captain and have sailed through worse brews than this. But my senses tell me our idyll in Jamaica is bound to come to an end. I must go to Curacao.”

Belladonna did not want to let him go, but he kissed her, and gently disengaged from her. She ran to the edge of the wooden dock, and leaned as far forward as she dared. He waved one last time as he boarded his ship. She reasoned that the fierce winds should be good for sailing and would speed Isaak’s journey. Squinting, she tried to see his figure on the bridge, imagining him making his farewell to Jamaica and to her.

Isaak’s fears about Jamaica were not unfounded. The Spanish were becoming bolder in establishing their dominion over the island, even though it officially remained under the sovereignty of the heirs to Christopher Columbus. The end of Jamaica’s independence was near, and once the Spanish took over, both she and Isaak, as well as her newfound family would be in danger because of their Jewish blood.

“Senora, we must go. Big storm is coming, and we must prepare. The sky do not look good. Horses do not like it.” The coachman peered up at the amassing dark clouds, and then gave her a pleading look.

Reluctantly, Belladonna turned away from the sea towards the mountains. “Let us go.”

Adjusting his hat so it was firmly placed on his head, the driver flicked his whip and the horses responded by taking off at a gallop, as if they were as eager as the driver to find shelter. Belladonna craned her neck, still looking towards the dock as they drove away.

The coachman kept the horses going at a fast gallop, so she had to hold tight to both sides of the carriage to avoid toppling forward. The wind kicked up the dust of the roadway, flinging it through the bushes and trees, shaking loose leaves and petals, swirling through the air and into their faces.

“Hiyah!” the coachman shouted again at the horses, flicking his whip so they galloped even faster. Used to traveling by boat in Venice, she knew little of carriages and put her faith in the coachman to get them home safely.

Lurching from side to side in the speeding carriage, she closed her eyes to shut out the frightening views of a careening landscape. She dared open them only when the carriage slowed, and the wails of the wind were softer. They had entered the sheltering thickness of the mangrove forest adjoining her brother’s land. The trees here were very thick and though their upper boughs still rustled in the wind, she felt more protected. The respite from the wind did not last long, and soon the carriage emerged from the mangrove trees into a slashing rain. The downpour swamped the open carriage, soaking her completely and making it even more difficult to move forward. Though it seemed like an eternity in the wind and rain, the coach soon drew to a sharp halt. Safe.

Her brother’s plantation house stood two stories tall, surrounded by trees, which the wind lashed against the closed shutters. Assailed by wind and rain, it did not seem to be the safe haven it had seemed several months ago when she first arrived on the island. After over a year at sea, when she first stepped onto the grand veranda, it had conjured long-ago memories of home. Though not as grand as the palazzo she possessed in Venice, it did have many rooms, furnished comfortably with bright island fabrics on sofas and chairs. There were flowers in abundance, and island paintings and pottery similar to her childhood home on the island.

That home and her family had been torn from her when the Inquisition came to Recife, Brazil where they had been visiting relatives. Her parents were New Christians, having been born Jews but then baptized, like many others who had come to the New World, and easy targets for accusations of heresy and the fires of an auto de fé. Both she and Roderigo had escaped capture, but each did not know the other survived until very recently, when they had found each other in Venice. Their reunion was short-lived; and Roderigo’s dying request was for Belladonna to find his family in Jamaica and make sure they were cared for.

After securing the door behind her, Belladonna stood in the entry hall, water dripping from her gown and pooling at her feet.

“Mariella!” she shouted, hoping her sister-in-law was in the house, and could hear her above the howling wind.

Mariella and Moises, her son, bounded down the stairway from the upper floor, each carrying armfuls of clothing and possessions.

“We do not have much time,” Mariella shouted back to her above the rattling of the shutters and the wind, “We must go. Take what you need.”

“We cannot stay here?”

Moises answered for his mother. “When the wind is this strong, the house is not safe. We must go to the Cave.”

Cave? Belladonna shivered in her wet clothes at the thought of it. Mentally, she checked off what she needed to take, including the small leather sack of jewels which had been with her since Venice. Hurrying up the stairs with her water-heavy skirts, she raced to her room. She quickly shed her wet clothing for dry ones, then pulled up a few select floorboards and retrieved the leather sack. She stuffed it into a bundle of clothing she had grabbed, and was heading for the stairs just as the shutters of her room banged wide open. Rain and wind invaded as Belladonna ran, skirting the flying debris of a large tree that had crashed through.

Her wet feet slid on the polished wood floors where she landed from her flight down the stairway, but neither Mariella nor Moises were in sight. She called out both their names, and let out a breath of relief when Moises emerged from behind the door to the servant’s area and beckoned to her.

She followed Moises below the stairs to the servants’ dining area and the kitchen. The servants’ quarters were protected by bushes and were on a lower level, so Belladonna assumed they could take refuge there. The few servants huddled together on plain wooden benches.

“Ready to go?” asked Mariella, Belladonna’s sister-in-law, who had taken full charge. “We have taken some food and supplies. The storm is growing more severe, and it is best we go now, or we will not be able to make it to the Cave.”

“What is this Cave?”

“The Cave of Christopher Columbus. It is on the highest point on the island, safe from flooding, and deep enough to avoid the damage of the wind.”

“That is not the same cave from the map that Roderigo—”

Mariella held up a hand and did not allow her to continue. “Yes, it is. But there is no time for talking or explaining. It is imperative we leave this house now, before another tree crashes down.”

A whimper from a maid was the only other comment as the servants were instantly on their feet, each clutching a bundle of belongings.

Mariella wrapped a shawl around her head and handed another to Belladonna to do the same. As soon as the outer door opened, the wind swept them into its maelstrom. Clustered together, they braced themselves as best as they could, and faced the storm.

***

Excerpt from The Courtesan’s Pirate by Nina Wachsman. Copyright 2024 by Nina Wachsman. Reproduced with permission from Nina Wachsman. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Nina Wachsman

Nina Wachsman is a graduate of the Parsons School of Design, where she studied under Maurice Sendak. She is currently lives and runs a digital agency in New York City. She is also a descendant of a chief rabbi of the Ghetto, a contemporary of her characters in the Venice Beauties Mysteries. The Gallery of Beauties, her debut novel set in 17th Century Venice, was an Agatha nominee for Best First Novel and a Silver Falchion finalist for Best Historical mystery. The second book in the Venice Beauties Mysteries, The Courtesan’s Secret received a 5 star recommendation from the Historical Fiction Company and is a Silver Falchion Top Pick and a finalist for the Silver Falchion for Best Historical. Nina has published stories, many with an art theme, in mystery and horror magazines and anthologies. She is one of the four authors who write stories and novels about art and crime as Curators of Crime.

Catch Up With Nina Wachsman:
VeniceBeauties.com
Goodreads
BookBub – @ninawachsman
Instagram – @thegalleryofbeauties
Threads – @thegalleryofbeauties
Facebook – @nina.wachsman

You can also find Nina on the www.CuratorsOfCrime.com website and Facebook – @curatorsofcrime page or at Facebook – @GalleryBeauties.

 

 

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$30 GC – Lethal Standoff by DiAnn Mills @partnersincr1me @diannmills

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LETHAL STANDOFF

by DiAnn Mills

September 2-27, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Lethal Standoff by DiAnn Mills

Justice can be elusive.
Family secrets can be deadly.

The stakes are high, and the clock is ticking in a volatile criminal case filled with unanswered questions. And Carrington Reed is running short on time to piece together clues that will solve the puzzle.

Hostage negotiator Carrington Reed is called to the scene when reports come in that fifteen hostages are being held by the Kendrix brothers in an abandoned house in south Texas. When she arrives on site, Carrington quickly learns that the brothers are armed and refuse to release their victims, a group of undocumented immigrants, until the local police identify their father’s murderer.

Working closely with Levi Ehrlich, a handsome investigative reporter who has covered some of Carrington’s negotiations in the past, she finds herself being undeniably drawn to him. Carrington digs deeper into the death of the Kendrixes’ father and begins to notice that some details surrounding his death aren’t adding up.

As Carrington investigates the brothers’ claims and tries to piece together their motive for taking innocent people captive, it soon becomes clear that they are trying to hide something and that revenge for their father’s death may not be what they’re really bargaining for after all. To protect the hostages and ensure the brothers don’t carry out the rest of their sinister plot, Carrington must get to the bottom of one family’s secret and the truth they’re trying so hard to hide before time runs out.

Award winning author DiAnn Mills delivers pulse-pounding romantic suspense about secrets, betrayal, and finding a path to forgiveness.

Praise for Lethal Standoff:

“DiAnn Mills delivers another pulse-pounding thriller you’re going to love. Lethal Standoff combines gripping tension with a captivating mystery, skillfully woven by DiAnn’s signature storytelling. She navigates the high-stakes world of hostage rescue, proving once again why she’s a master of the genre.”
~ Jerry B. Jenkins, author of the Left Behind series and The Chosen novels

“In Lethal Standoff, DiAnn Mills works magic―weaving suspense and intrigue into a heart-pounding hostage thriller. Hostage negotiator Carrington Reed is a hero with heart who refuses to quit even when it means risking her own life for strangers. Don’t miss this high-stakes gambit set in south Texas that will keep you flipping pages to the very end.”
~ Andrews & Wilson, bestselling authors of Dark Intercept

“Warning: do not start this book if you intend to put it down any time soon. This is a roller-coaster ride. A bullet-biter. A heart-thumper. This is DiAnn Mills at her best.”
~ Eva Marie Everson, bestselling author and CEO of Word Weavers International

“Lethal Standoff has everything I look for in a great novel! Alongside a heartwarming romance, the plot and themes of this page-turner are pulled from current events and offer a hopeful, triumphant message for readers. Highly recommended.”
~ Deborah Raney, author of Breath of Heaven in the Camfield Legacy series

Lethal Standoff Trailer:

Book Details:

Genre: Romantic Suspense
Published by: Tyndale House Publishers
Publication Date: September 3, 2024
Number of Pages: 368
ISBN: 9781496485106 (ISBN10: 1496485106)
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Tyndale House Publishers

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One

SEPTEMBER – CARRINGTON

My role as a hostage negotiator often plunged me into the evil designs of the human mind. I embraced the responsibility and possible danger because it’s my identity— a one-woman battlefront determined to free others from victimization.

The challenge excited me, but fear of failure stalked me, and respect for human life was my constant companion. Too often innocent lives depended on my ability to negotiate their safe release without anyone getting hurt. The demands, rewards, and sometimes the defeats with tragic outcomes kept me awake at night. How could I have done things differently? My apprenticeship began when I was eight years old, but thinking about those days didn’t change the past. Right now, lives were in jeopardy. . . .

I’d driven ten minutes out from a critical situation on a Wednesday afternoon when my cell phone rang. My contact, a detective from the Houston Police Department, had spent several hours talking to an angry man who held his wife and son hostage.

“Carrington, we have the information you requested,” Detective Aaron Peters said. “The man inside the home is the owner, Nick Henderson. Age thirty-five. Married to Christine. He’s holding his wife and eight- year- old son at gunpoint. Yesterday, he was served divorce papers, and we believe this is in retaliation.”

Hurt. Rejected. Probably a lit stick of dynamite. “You talked to him from the outside?”

“We’ve routed his calls through our mobile command center. I tried talking to him. Got nowhere. He hung up on me.” Aaron blew out his frustration.

Domestic calls were the most dangerous, often violent, causing me to appreciate my Kevlar vest. I had a handgun in my purse, but I could count on one hand the times I’d pulled it. Never used it. “All right. I’m nearly there. SWAT in place?”

“Yes, two have clear shots. Not an action I want to take unless necessary.”

“Me either. What are Henderson’s demands?”

“Just to leave him alone or he’ll pull the trigger on his family.”

Cool, calm focus settled on me. My ability to mediate critical discussions depended on my wearing emotional blinders to the outside world. “When did the problem start?”

“The wife phoned 911 at 8:00 a.m. today. I don’t know how long he was there before she reached out to us. We’ve been called here twice in the past month for domestic abuse.”

I glanced at my watch, and it neared 4:00 p.m. “Have HPD negotiators been talking to him?”

“Yes. Henderson hung up on them too. He’s drinking. Slurring his words. Seems to have trouble concentrating.”

Alcohol could make him more volatile. Flashing lights appeared on the residential street ahead. “I’m parking now. Give me five minutes.”

“I’m standing beside my car in front of the house.”

“Aaron, do you have Henderson’s work history?”

“Fired three months ago from Home Depot, where he held a management role. They walked him out of the store in front of his employees.”

The man definitely had nothing to lose.

Phone in hand, I hurried from my parked truck and raced to where police cars barricaded the entrance to the street where Henderson held his family. A reporter blocked my way between vehicles. She rammed a mic in front of my face.

“Carrington Reed, do you think this standoff will have a peaceful resolution?”

My blood boiled. The last time I had verbally unleashed on her aggressive means to get the best story, she lied in her article about my concern for those in danger. I paused long enough to give her eye contact. “My goal is always a peaceful solution. Excuse me, I need to talk to HPD.”

“Are the police advocating a violent takedown?”

“No.” I sidestepped around her and ignored her shouts.

Aaron stood in front of the home and waved. He had the appearance of average—average height, weight, gray eyes, brown hair, and shoulder span— but nothing about his physical appearance showed his intense scrutiny of a crime scene. His rating as one of HPD’s finest hit my respect button.

“Good to see you. I’d like the man’s cell number,” I said. “I assume my cell phone is routed through the command center too?”

“Sure thing.” He gave me the information. “The wife’s name is Christine, and the son’s name is Rand.”

I nodded my thanks and pressed in the digits. A man answered on the second ring.

“Nick, this is Carrington. I’m standing beside a police car outside your house, and I’d like to help you.”

“I . . . leave me alone.” He spoke fast and loudly. “I’m busy.”

“What do you need?”

“You can get rid of all those cops. I can’t breathe.”

I expected a more belligerent response. “Nick, I can’t do that. These officers are here to protect you in case someone tries to break into your home and hurt you.”

“I’d kill my wife and kid first.”

“Tell me why you feel that way.”

“They deserve it for the way they’ve treated me.” He stumbled over his words. “I’m a good husband and dad.”

“I’m sure you’re great at both. Tell me what’s hurting you.”

***

Excerpt from LETHAL STANDOFF by DiAnn Mills. Copyright 2024 by DiAnn Mills. Reproduced with permission from DiAnn Mills. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

DiAnn Mills

DiAnn Mills is a bestselling author who believes her readers should expect an adventure. She weaves memorable characters with unpredictable plots to create action-packed, suspense-filled novels with threads of romance. DiAnn believes every breath of life is someone’s story, so why not capture those moments and create a thrilling adventure?

Her titles have appeared on the CBA and ECPA bestseller lists; won two Christy Awards, Selah, Golden Scroll, Inspirational Readers’ Choice, and Carol award contests.

DiAnn is a founding board member of the American Christian Fiction Writers, an active member of the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers, Advanced Writers and Speakers Association, Mystery Writers of America, the Jerry Jenkins Writers Guild, and International Thriller Writers. DiAnn continues her passion of helping other writers be successful. She speaks to various groups and teaches writing workshops around the country.

DiAnn has been termed a coffee snob and roasts her own coffee beans. She’s an avid reader, loves to cook, and believes her grandchildren are the smartest kids in the universe. She and her husband live in sunny Houston, Texas.

DiAnn is very active online and would love to connect with readers on:
diannmills.com
Goodreads – @diannmills
BookBub – @diannmills
Instagram -@diannmillsauthor
YouTube – @diannmills
Twitter/X – @diannmills
Facebook – @diannmills
Pinterest – @diannmills
LinkedIn – @diannmills

 

 

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The Spotlight Is On Savage Lust by Candi Scott @xpressotours

Savage Lust
Candi Scott
Publication date: September 26th 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark Romance, Romance

At the end of my rope and out of options, I’m on my way to Dry Valley, Nevada. To attend the funeral of a father I’ve never met and into a world I could have never imagined.

A world where I’d do anything to survive.

I’d expected the outlaw bikers, the drugs, and even the violence. What I’d hadn’t expected was the six feet of leather clad bad boy, Cam Savage, pinning me to a mattress.

Now I can’t think of anything else…

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Author Bio:

Candi Scott is the ultra steamy pen name for award winning author Leslie Scott.

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