Archive for the ‘fiction’ Category

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One man’s journey through the sick and twisted world of heroin addiction.

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Standing Room Only

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by Josh Liccardi

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Genre: Fictional Biography

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One man’s journey through the sick and twisted world of heroin addiction. Listen to his every thought as he tries to reexamine life, or what it has become. See each struggle unfold as things get more and more complicated. Learn how to curve the pain, and ultimately how to simply just give up.

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*Please note – due to an Amazon error, the ebook connected to the Amazon paperback is incorrect and NOT by this author!*

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151 Productions ebook * B&N * Paperback Amazon *Goodreads

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It hits me hard. Then it pulls through me like a freight train that is stuck on its rails, but set to full throttle at its fastest speed. The pause button has been pushed. Time is slowed to an almost stop. All the energy in the world enters me through the invisible lines that are attached to every square inch of my body. For a second, I have entirely disappeared. Absorbed into everything else that is….and isn’t. This feeling can only be described as indescribable. Without experiencing it yourself, there is no possible way that one could ever even imagine its magnitude and significance. Soon time will begin again and catch up in a strange and ambiguous way. I can see around things that normally seem so benign and unimportant. A new way of thinking takes over as I try to grasp all the differences between what I’ve been told, and what I am currently actually seeing. Things that normally aren’t this clear are suddenly lit up and almost transparent. Like the answers were always just sitting there right in front of me waiting to be found. This is how I want to feel all the time. I can’t imagine dying without ever having felt this way – I now finally feel as though there was a point to living. A glimpse into the soul this deep should not be passed over. Never again will I see things the way that I used to – through a murky filtered lens. Never again will I feel hopelessly trapped inside of someone else’s great idea that I simply do not agree with or accept. Never again will I fear that there is nothing else to be found. Never again will I search for a way to fill the voids that so profoundly populate my chest. I know that in the physical sense I am sitting on the floor against Dave’s beat up brown couch, but I can’t feel it. A numbness has engulfed my body which pulsates at irregular time intervals as a reminder of its presence. A cyclone of thoughts swirl through my head like watercolors being brushed lazily onto a canvas. There is no pain in this place. No worries. No cares. Just the forever stillness of my physical self that has relaxed to the consistency of putty. This is the high. This is what we all crave and spend all of our energy constantly seeking. It has become irreplaceable. It has become everything.

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Can you, for those who don’t know you already, tell something about yourself and how you became an author?  

 

As far back as I can recall I would write little snippets of thoughts or even short story type excerpts instead of paying attention in school, to pass the monotony of it all.  Writing was always a passion that would eat away at me in the back of my mind until I had no choice but to put my thoughts down on paper.  Even if these thoughts didn’t formulate into anything more, the act of writing them out and working through the words left me with a cathartic feeling.

 

What is something unique/quirky about you? 

 

I drink more coffee than water throughout the day and am running out of free skin to tattoo.

 

I was also recently informed by a close friend that I have a knack for coming up with analogies to describe things, and that I “do this all the time” –  after giving it some thought, I don’t think he’s wrong.

 

Tell us something really interesting that’s happened to you! 

 

Once on a business trip to San Diego I was shocked to run into an old co-worker there who had moved to the area without my knowledge.  I live in MA, so to randomly run into someone you actually know literally on the other side of the country seemed extremely odd, and of course, interesting!

 

What are some of your pet peeves? 

 

I don’t have many that I can think of, however the biggest thing that comes to mind is “giving up”.  I personally exhaust every route possible before doing so, and I have come to expect the same from others.  The younger people in my life who I’ve had the pleasure of mentoring over the years always get this advice from me – do you best to never give up, you might end up surprising yourself.

 

Where were you born/grew up at? 

 

I was born in Great Barrington MA and grew up in a nearby town called Hinsdale.  It was a rural area with not much to do but to make your own fun, mostly outside either alone or with neighborhood friends.

 

If you knew you’d die tomorrow, how would you spend your last day? 

 

I would spend the day at the ocean surrounded by loved ones (hopefully), specifically my daughter.  Knowing that I was going to die would create immense anxiety, and being at the edge of the water could help with calming my nerves.  My daughter would be the last person that I’d want to see before making the final descent into nothingness.

 

Who is your hero and why? 

 

I can’t really think of anyone (fictional or real) that I would call my “hero”, but if I had to choose, I suppose it would be two people.  My Grandfather is one, and the other would by my Father.  My Grandfather was an extremely kind person and was someone that I observed for years.  I was able to learn a lot from him while I was growing up, and he inadvertently showed me how to deal with most situations in life.  My Father is also one of the nicest people you’d ever have the pleasure of meeting.  He’s an extremely hard worker and has always chosen to do the right thing in life.  Both provided me with many social skills and abilities to navigate life in a respectful manner.

 

What kind of world ruler would you be? 

 

A peaceful one (if that is at all possible).  I have always felt as though we should all help each other as human beings and do what we can to lift those up around us.  The world we live in today does not have that mentality, and the people who hold power are generally only concerned with acquiring more of it.  As a world leader I would desperately try to push humanity toward hitting a reset button, and changing archaic ways that end up doing more harm than good.

 

What are you passionate about these days? 

 

I am mostly passionate about my current writing projects, one of which is a comic book series called “Tribes of Erutan” who my closest friend and I have created together.  We are close to publishing the second issue and will then immediately be moving on to the third.  It’s been a tremendously rewarding project and we hope to create many more in the future.  When I’m not working on that specifically, I’ve been writing another novel as well, so that is also at the top of my list lately.

 

What do you do to unwind and relax? 

 

I rarely have “relaxing” time, however when I do, I usually end up either playing some video games, enjoying a sessions of D&D with some friends, or spending time near the ocean.  Every year I travel down to coast of Virginia and just get away from everything around me.  Staring into the vastness of the ocean fills me with inspiration while simultaneously having an overall calming effect.

 

How to find time to write as a parent? 

 

Finding time to do anything as a parent is difficult!  When my daughter was still very young the opportunity to write was almost non-existent.  There were times where I would have a sudden thought and I would quickly type it out on my phone to not lose the idea etc.  Now that she has grown into a teenager, finding time has become a bit easier.  I end up writing a lot at night, or simply in between obligations such as work and family activities.

 

When did you first consider yourself a writer? 

 

Once I published my first novel I began to feel somewhat ok with the title, however I’m not a fan of titles in general.  I feel that stamping a title or name on someone/something immediately provides preconceived notions and tends to make people overlook the qualities behind the veil.  Anyone can be a “writer”, whether you can invoke feeling in a reader is another thing entirely.  My goal is always to make someone feel something.

 

Do you have a favorite movie? 

 

Too many to list, however a few that come to mind are “Fight Club”, “Trainspotting”, “Donnie Darko”, “The Godfather”,

 

Which of your novels can you imagine made into a movie?

 

Definitely Standing Room Only.  There is plenty of drama, with some elements of action as well.   While some scenes would certainly have some grittiness, I feel like the emotion would come across well on screen.

 

As a writer, what would you choose as your mascot/avatar/spirit animal?

 

An English Bulldog – hands down.  I’m only slightly biased due to having my own 12 year old English Bulldog, but seriously I think they’re amazing dogs despite their physical challenges.  They are incredibly stubborn yet extremely loyal and dedicated.  I cannot help but smile every time I see one.

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Josh Liccardi is an American author who grew up in the Berkshires located in Western Massachusetts. He was born in 1981 to a small family and grew up in a rural area 15 miles away from a small centralized city. With not much to do he spent his time creating scenarios for himself and other neighborhood kids near him in order to pass the time outside of school. At an early age Josh became interested in computers and started learning their ways from the inside out, which ended up turning into a career choice as he aged. School was never of much interest, but Josh did attend some college, before dropping out and focusing solely on his first IT job. The years went by and he bounced around between a few different companies, but still to this day is working in IT. When not engrossed in work he was able to find time to write various things, which did get put on hold after the birth of his daughter. Josh is able to focus more on writing now however and recently created 151 Productions with his dear friend and artist Shawn. Through this endeavor Shawn and Josh will continue to create and publish various works such as a comic book series as well as upcoming novels that are already in process. They are both very grateful to get their creations out into the world and hope to share their art for years to come.

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Website * Facebook * Instagram * Goodreads

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Return To Lerici organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Rachel Dacus will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Return To Lerici

by Rachel Dacus

 

 

Genre: Women’s Fiction

Synopsis

A suspenseful, uplifting story of second chances, family bonds, and redemption.

Sisters Elinor and Saffron rarely see eye-to-eye, but they agree that an unknown half-brother appearing in their lives can only spell trouble. The Greene sisters want to support their ailing mother, Betsy, as they gather in their cottage in Lerici, Italy. But they don’t want Betsy to keep searching for Baby Boy, the only name they have on faded adoption papers.

While the Greenes debate, Baby Boy finds them. A rough childhood has led Daniel to a life as a thief. When he learns of his connection to the wealthy Greenes, he decides to scam them. He goes to Italy and using a fake identity observes them at close range. Watching these people makes him ache for what he never had—a loving family.

Betsy is touched by the young man’s story and guesses their hidden connection. Discovering his true identity, she asks the family to help him. But Daniel’s shady past is catching up and putting the Greenes at risk. Should they bring their lost lamb into the fold—and can he claim his heritage if it endangers his family?

Enjoy this peek inside:

Elinor picked up the letter from the stack of today’s mail on the dining table. The return address was casella postale, a postal box with a number and no name. A clumsy advertisement? The lack of information made her curious enough to open it, though she knew it was going to be junk mail.

Dear Ms. Greene,

I know you have a lost relative, a half-brother your family abandoned. If you do not wish to have this dirty secret publicly revealed, you may send five hundred sixty-two euros by return mail, and nothing will ever be published. No scandal will ever happen if you pay me right now.

Yours sincerely,
A Well Wisher

Dread prickled through her scalp and dripped to her shoulders. She hunched them to shake it off. How wrong she’d been. This was no junk mail, it was aimed at her personally. There was a return address and a demand for money. A scam—but how would anyone know about Baby Boy? That was private, that was even sealed in a closed adoption. Betsy couldn’t find him with all her amateur sleuthing around.

Another chill ripped through her. This person must have hired a detective, but if so, why ask for so little? And why assume the family considered it a dark enough secret to pay to keep it concealed? Plenty of people had unplanned pregnancies that became children given up for adoption. Back in the days when Nathan was a professor at UC Berkeley, it wasn’t enough to pay to conceal, and certainly not an odd sum like this person was demanding.

Something smelled fishy. A “well wisher”? Seriously? And the phrase “by return mail” struck her as American. Yet the return address PO box was in Rome. It seemed more likely that a blackmail attempt would come from an American who had somehow discovered the existence of Baby Boy. Could it be from someone who had adopted the child and now wanted some sort of reimbursement? But the amount was ridiculously small. Blackmailers didn’t take the risk for so little. She knew that much from her addiction to crime dramas and mysteries.

This was one lame blackmailer, or … could it be from Baby Boy himself? Had he somehow found them?

About Author Rachel Dacus

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Rachel Dacus is the author of six novels, four time travel books in the Timegathering Series and two books of women’s fiction. She has also published four poetry collections. Rachel’s work has appeared widely in print and online, in journal that include Boulevard, Gargoyle, and Prairie Schooner. Her poetry is in the anthologies Fire and Rain: Ecopoetry of California and Radiant DisUnities: Real Ghazals in English. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Author Links: Website / Facebook / Instagram

Purchase Link: Amazon

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

When All is Said and Done

by Christy Hayes

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Publication date: December 5th 2023
Genres: Women’s Fiction

A heartbreaking novel about the sacrifices we make for love.

After an unstable childhood, marriage isn’t just a promise to Dustin Carver, it’s his lifeline. He and Tegan grew up together, fell in love, and planned their perfect life. When the future they imagined gets derailed by her demanding law career, their marriage slowly slides off the rails.

Tegan can’t believe her husband took her threat of a separation seriously and walked away without a backward glance. Heartbroken and embarrassed, she covers for his absence with lies. Lies she tells herself about her career. Lies she tells her family about her marriage. And lies she’s yet to confess to her husband about a secret she kept while he was away. When Dustin finally returns, she’s running on fumes and her lies are about to be exposed.

Seven weeks in Key West licking his wounds and watching his best friend fall in love is enough to convince Dustin to come home and fight for his marriage. Saving their relationship means returning to therapy and facing a bitter truth neither wants to address. What if their childhood romance doesn’t have a happy-ever-after ending?

This emotional read told with brutal honesty begs the ultimate question for marriages far and wide. At the end of the day-at the end of our lives-what is worth fighting for, and when, if ever, should we walk away?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Dustin’s POV

He heard a noise from the kitchen, and his pulse picked up the beat. Was that the side door closing or the echoed rumble from his rebellious stomach? He stilled the strings with his palm and recognized the familiar sound of Tegan hanging her keys on the hook and shucking her shoes by the door. His heart lurched into his throat.

Dustin cursed himself for getting lost in the music and not preparing for her return. He should have been rehearsing speeches in his head or making dinner instead of mowing the lawn, adding a couple of towels to her burgeoning laundry pile, and playing around on the guitar. He propped the instrument against the couch and stood on unsteady legs.

A surging swell of love, swift and savage, swept over him as he looked at her, sent his heart thrashing against his chest. There she is—my center, my orbit—in living, breathing color. Tegan had her back turned and was flipping through the mail on the counter. Her hair was longer than normal, a dark curtain falling well past her sagging shoulders.

“Hi.”

She gasped and spun, clutching her chest with both hands, her eyes blinking furiously. Frozen in that position like a still photograph captured on film, she looked thin—too thin—and fragile as blown glass. “Dusty.”

His name from her lips, soft and scratchy, scorched his eviscerated heart. “Sorry to startle you. I … I figured you’d see my car.”

She seemed confused, shaking her head, squinting her eyes. “Your car?”

“In the garage …” He tried and failed to keep the exasperation out of his voice. He’d been gone for weeks, and she hadn’t moved a muscle in his direction. Hadn’t flashed a smile or inclined her head or opened her arms to make him feel welcome. And after everything they had to say to one another, they were talking about his car?

“I parked in the driveway,” she said.

Her guilty tone and the way she tucked her chin to her chest were another lash to his pride. How many times had he begged her to park her car in the garage? They lived in a nice neighborhood, but why invite crime by leaving her car parked out in the open and alert everyone to her patterns of coming and going?

She read the look on his face and offered a muttered, “I was tired, and the garage door has been giving me fits. I think it needs grease or something.”

Stop talking about the stupid garage! He wanted to scream at her, grab her arms and shake her, invade the personal space she protected with her arms crossed tightly against her chest. He wanted to do something, anything, to get a rise out of her and stop the inane garage discussion.

The way she looked—the way she looked at him like a racoon caught pillaging the trash—kept his voice even and his feet rooted firmly in place. Even in the muted light, she appeared ready to drop. He longed to go to her, wrap her in his arms, let her lean on him the way she always had when life kicked her in the tail. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not with everything at stake.

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About Author Christy Hayes

Christy Hayes writes romance and romantic women’s fiction. She is the proud mother of two grown children and lives outside Atlanta, Georgia, with her husband and rescue dogs.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Bookbub

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

Book Details:
Book Title:  The Golden Manuscripts: A Novel (Between Two Worlds, Book 6) by Evy Journey
Category:  Adult Fiction 18+, 340 pages
Genre: Women’s Literary Fiction
Publisher:  Evy Journey
Release date:  April 2, 2023
Content Rating:  PG: Some kissing, no bad language, no sex scenes

 

Book Description:

Clarissa, an Asian/Caucasian young woman has lived in seven different countries and has no lasting connection to any place. She thinks it’s time to settle somewhere she could eventually call home. But where?

She decides to live in the city of her birth. There, she joins a quest for the provenance of stolen illuminated manuscripts—a medieval art form that languished with the fifteenth-century invention of the printing press—hoping it would give her the sense of belonging she craves. But will it be enough?

For her, these ancient manuscripts elicit cherished memories of children’s picture books her mother read to her, nourishing a passion for art.

The trail of the manuscripts leads to an American soldier who served in World War II. Clarissa is anxious to know what motivated him to steal and keep the artwork for fifty years. But instead of easy answers, she finds bigger questions.

Immersed in art, but naïve about life, she’s disheartened and disillusioned by the machinations the quest reveals of an esoteric, sometimes unscrupulous art world. What compels individuals to steal artworks, and conquerors to plunder them from the vanquished? Why do collectors buy artworks for hundreds of millions of dollars? Who decides the value of an art piece and how?

The Golden Manuscripts: A Novel is inspired by the actual theft of medieval manuscript illuminations during the second world war.

 
Buy the Book:
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​add to goodreads
 

Welcome to The Friday 56 hosted by Freda’s Voice.

 

This is a really fun meme!

The only rules are to grab a book (any book), turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader and find a sentence or a few (no spoilers) that grabs you and post it.

Then go over to Freda’s Voice and leave your link so we can visit your 56!

My 56 for this week is from

The Shade Under The Mango Tree

  by Evy Journey

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Genre:  Fiction / Coming Of Age

From page 56 in the paperback.

Wat amazing sensations I felt on the lawn that day.

For me, life is worth living for such moments alone, but too many people are too busy getting rich, caring only for material things.

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Synopsis

After two heartbreaking losses, Luna wants adventure. Something and somewhere very different from the affluent, sheltered home in California and Hawaii where she grew up. An adventure in which she can also make some difference. She travels to a foreign place where she gets more than she bargained for.

Lucien, a worldly, well-traveled young architect, finds a stranger’s journal at a café. He has qualms and pangs of guilt about reading it. But they don’t stop him. His decision to go on reading changes his life.

Months later, Luna and Lucien meet at a bookstore where Luna works and which Lucien frequents. Still hurting from her losses, Luna finds solace in Lucien’s company and his tales of world travel.

Inspired by Lucien, she goes to Cambodia. What she goes through in one of its rice-growing villages defies anything she could have imagined.

An epistolary tale of courage, love and loss, and the bonds that bring diverse people together.

Amazon

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

You can find a list of my reviews HERE.

For a list of free eBooks go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE

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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Slightest In The House organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Barbara Casey will award a $20 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Slightest In The House

by Barbara Casey

 

 

Genre: Young Adult Fiction

Synopsis

On some level she was aware that an elderly woman had come out of the darkness and put her arms around her. Meredith heard her say that everything would be all right. But on another, more conscious level, the one where all of her senses saw, felt, processed and recorded what was happening, Meredith watched two black body bags being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Then she watched the ambulance turn around and drive off in the opposite direction. Her long, tumbling mass of blond curls hung loosely over her face, shielding it. For Beth, the reality of what had taken place would come later. But Meredith had seen what had happened and understood. That knowledge was now seeping through every pore of her body.

Seventeen-year-old Meredith and her four-year-old stepsister, Beth, face the numbing reality of suddenly losing their parents in a freak accident. With no other family, they are taken from their mobile home in Georgia to go live with a grandmother they have never met in a mansion in Palm Beach, Florida. Beth soon adjusts to her new environment; but Meredith withdraws from everyone and everything, unable to blot out the image of the horrible crash that killed her parents. It is only when she reaches out to a homeless woman that Meredith is finally able to find herself and face her demons. With the help of her grandmother’s long-employed staff, a family doctor, a museum curator, an attorney who is more than just her grandmother’s legal advisor, and, of course, her conniving grandmother who is dealing with her own guilt for having been estranged from her son and his wife (Meredith’s and Beth’s parents), Meredith is able to pull herself from the depths of despair into a life filled with faith, hope, and generosity.

Slightest in the House is a contemporary novel with strong, interesting characters from different walks of life, brought together because of life’s difficult and often unexpected circumstances, and bonded together by their faith and belief that everything works out as it should.

Enjoy this peek inside:

Joseph had no trouble locating Mango Street or the apartments. The town of Palmetto was small, and all of the streets seemed to run north and south, and east and west. After parking next to the curb, Joseph waited by the car as Elizabeth walked up to the front door and knocked. A woman wearing jeans and a loose-fitting blouse opened the door.

“I’m Elizabeth Wallingford,” she said to the woman. “I understand my granddaughters are staying with you.”

The woman told Elizabeth her name was Anne Reynolds, “and this is my husband, Ron,” she said as she led Elizabeth into the dimly-lit living room. A man who had been seated across the room stood up. He was dressed in a policeman’s uniform, and the dark circles under his eyes indicated that he hadn’t slept in a while.

“We are terribly sorry for your loss,” he said putting his arm around his wife. “Ricky and Rachel were good friends of ours.”

“We are just so sorry,” repeated Anne.

Elizabeth nodded and then quickly glanced around the somewhat cluttered room. Her eyes paused on the young child who was curled up in a chair asleep.

“That’s our daughter, Christie,” said Ron.

Elizabeth continued to look around the room. Toys and games littered the floor. An old black and white Western movie was playing on the television, but the sound had been turned down. And then she saw them. A thin young girl—almost a young woman—with long blond hair and big blue eyes. So much like her mother. The jeans she wore were too short, even for her petite body. And the shoes on her feet looked as though they should be on someone else. Standing next to her was a much younger child holding some kind of stuffed toy with a ridiculous-looking bandage covering its rear end. A remnant of a tail hung limply over the bandage. Where the jeans on the older girl were too small, the dress on this child was much too large. The laces on her tennis shoes were frayed and knotted, and a rather large gaping hole in one of the shoes exposed the small bare toes within. Unlike her older half-sister, this child had short, dark hair, straight and fine, and her eyes were a golden brown. She was the image of her father, Elizabeth’s son. Elizabeth’s breathing quickened as the overwhelming sadness of the situation consumed her. Sensing the fear and uncertainty—and distrust—in these two young girls—her granddaughters, it was this that kept her own pain from being unbearable.

“Meredith . . . Beth, I’m your grandmother. I have come to take you to your new home.”

Beth put her small hand into Elizabeth’s jeweled one, and the three of them walked unspeaking out of the house. Ron carried what few belongings the girls had out to Joseph which he quickly loaded into the car—a brown tattered suitcase, a small wooden trunk with a brass lock in the middle, and a ripped paper shopping bag that contained a few books and toys. There was a smaller canvas bag with what looked like a computer in it. Meredith’s no doubt, Elizabeth thought as she watched Joseph put it in the back with the other things.

“We really didn’t know what to pack,” explained Anne apologetically. “Meredith and Beth picked out what they wanted.”

Elizabeth nodded. So paltry, she thought, noticing the shabbiness of everything. But she mustn’t allow herself to think about that. Somehow she would make it up to them and to their mother. Somehow she would make it up to her son. And she prayed that she would be forgiven.

“Thank you for your kindness,” Elizabeth said to Ron and Anne, her emotions just under the surface. She didn’t trust herself to say any more and she slipped into the backseat with Meredith and Beth. Once settled, the big car slowly drove away.

It was daybreak.

About Author Barbara Casey:

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https://i0.wp.com/blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTRaWHvQiMXa9BdQNI-Xx8Zcq-14WXyJElz02UvvQx5GgalDCnysetFrg2Ixrrq2zSo32pV3KZWz_1JxjkyPDzxhDk0dX9ZZrac9aKnAbbhKFNuQ42etJ5MxNaE4P6HCjbFXr2OoCocPB9IC5pMGpx65Jdx5V7CmdKCy1Uy4bwSJLnW-INngr68mY8drY/s3872/author%20image.jpg?ssl=1

Barbara Casey is the author of over two dozen award-winning novels and book-length works of nonfiction for both adults and young adults, and numerous articles, poems, and short stories. Several of her books have been optioned for major films and television series.

In addition to her own writing, Barbara is an editorial consultant and president of the Barbara Casey Agency. Established in 1995, she represents authors throughout the United States, Great Britain, Canada, and Japan.

In 2018 Barbara received the prestigious Albert Nelson Marquis Lifetime Achievement Award and Top Professional Award for her extensive experience and notable accomplishments in the field of publishing and other areas.

Barbara lives on a mountain in Georgia with three cats who adopted her: Homer, a Southern coon cat; Reese, a black cat; and Earl Gray, a gray cat and Reese’s best friend.

Author Links: Website / Blog / Goodreads 

Purchase Links: Amazon / B&N

Giveaway contest ribbon promo label prize. Vector giveaway banner badge design template

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for The Airs Of Tillie organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Barbara Casey will award a $20 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The Airs Of Tillie

by Barbara Casey

Genre: YA Fiction

Synopsis

The small town of Wellington, Florida, has the distinction of playing host to some of the wealthiest people in the world as well as the most prestigious equestrian events. King Charles comes from England to watch polo on the fields where he once played as Prince. The United States Olympics Equestrian team trains and competes there with teams from other countries. In sharp contrast, just down the road, due west, are some of the largest sugarcane fields in the world. The people who work these fields are for the most part poor. They come from many cultures and backgrounds, but they primarily come from Haiti, Jamaica, and the United States. This combination of horse owner and cane worker is an unusual dichotomy, and it is a blend of these things that makes up the world in which my story’s main character, Tillie, the 11-year-old daughter of a sugarcane field foreman, lives.

In The Airs of Tillie, Tillie Turpning lives in an imaginary world that is filled with beautiful horses, polite people, and luxurious homes. Her real world, however, includes living in a cane foreman’s small tenant house with her over-worked mother, an autistic sister, and a rebellious older brother who is searching for answers within a radical Muslim group. When Tillie is unexpectedly forced to assist in the difficult birth of a new foal, she proves that her determination and belief in herself will allow her to accomplish anything she sets out to do.

Enjoy this peek inside:

Matt struck hard at the cane stalk and continued moving down the row at a faster pace than normal. Meeting Abdullah had stirred up more questions. The fundamentals of the Muslim faith were good as far as he could tell. There was sahah, or daily prayer, ibadah, which was submission to Allah or God. Zalsah was paying 2.5 percent of his salary to a deserving fellow being—his parents called it tithing. There was fasting during the month of Ramadin or ninth month. And there was hajj, or pilgrimage, to Mecca. This was considered the biggest of all acts of worship. It was where Muslims from around the world were united into one international brotherhood. Mustafa talked a lot about the hajj. It was his hope to go some time in the next year. He had even suggested that Matt go with him—that is, if he decided to convert to Islam.

The prayer and worship and giving to others were all good things as far as Matt was concerned. He didn’t have much to give, but he wouldn’t mind sharing it. Abdullah had made a special point to single him out after the meeting, telling him that he had heard good things about him. That the “Brotherhood” needed good men like him. That was when Abdullah invited him to a special meeting they were having later in the week. Abdullah had actually called him a man. He had also told him that if he needed anything to let him know. “It is an honor,” Mustafa had told him later, “for Abdullah to take special notice.”

Matt felt good. He liked his new friends and he liked what he was learning about Islam. Abdullah was a leader. Matt noticed how much everyone looked up to him—respected him. That was what he wanted, too. Respect. But being the son of a cut foreman who worked in a cane field brought on more jokes than respect from the other workers.

Matt straightened up from his stooped position and wiped the sweat from his face. Behind him lay hundreds of long cane stalks neatly cut and piled in a row. The Brotherhood needs good men like you. He would attend the special meeting even if it did mean sneaking out of the house.

About Author Barbara Casey:

Barbara Casey

Barbara Casey is the author of over two dozen award-winning novels and book-length works of nonfiction for both adults and young adults, and numerous articles, poems, and short stories. Several of her books have been optioned for major films and television series.

In addition to her own writing, Barbara is an editorial consultant and president of the Barbara Casey Agency. Established in 1995, she represents authors throughout the United States, Great Britain, Canada, and Japan.

In 2018 Barbara received the prestigious Albert Nelson Marquis Lifetime Achievement Award and Top Professional Award for her extensive experience and notable accomplishments in the field of publishing and other areas.

Barbara lives on a mountain in Georgia with three cats who adopted her: Homer, a Southern coon cat; Reese, a black cat; and Earl Gray, a gray cat and Reese’s best friend.

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Mother Knows Worst 

by Sofia Bella Roma

Category:  Adult Fiction (18+),  280 pages
Genre: Literary Fiction, Novel
Publisher:  Mascot Books
Release date:  December 2022
Content Rating:  PG -13


Pinnacle Award Winner!

“Author Sofia Bella Roma tells an absorbing story about two people from very different backgrounds falling in love and struggling to navigate the circumstances and people around them. Infusing romance, humor, and plenty of drama, Roma weaves an engaging narrative that keeps hold of the reader until the last page. Mother Knows Worst is not just a dramatic comedy but also a novel that showcases the challenges people sometimes face in adapting to other cultures, especially in relationships involving in-laws. The characters have their own idiosyncrasies, which make them very intriguing to read. Rose and Anil’s dynamic feels genuine, as do their respective struggles and conflicts. Recommended to readers who savor drama novels revolving around relationships.” – Reviewed by Pikasho Deka for Readers’ Favorite

“A lively, thought-provoking journey into one young woman’s marriage, cross-cultural encounters, and life. Mother Knows Worst is recommended not just for novel readers seeking stories of women’s experiences, but for reading groups interested in the psychological entanglements between different cultures and generations.” – Reviewed by Midwest Book Reviews


Book Description:

After trying her hand at acting, Rose decides to change career paths and enter law school.

She enrolls in law school in a sleepy New England town, only to find that the practice of law is not all she will study. This quirky thirty-something Italian girl falls in love when she lays eyes on Anil, a handsome intellectual from India. The two discover a deep connection and quickly begin a romantic relationship. What could go wrong as their romance blossoms? Their future looks bright. They have each other. They have great friends. They also have Anil’s mother. Inspired by true events, Mother Knows Worst is a humorous and heartfelt novel. Rose is on a path to finding herself, love, and relationships, taking the reader on a delightful and often comedic journey as she explores two cultural worlds colliding.

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Author Guest Post
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The Fear of Writing a Novel Based on a True Story

The biggest fear about writing a novel based on a true story is the risk of inaccuracies, misunderstandings or misrepresentations.  When writing the novel Mother Knows Worst, which is based on a true story, I had to ensure that I did extensive research and fact checking to avoid presenting false information.  I also was careful not to infringe on the privacy of the real-life individuals who may have been represented in the book.

Another fear is the possibility of offending or hurting the real-life people who are part of the story.  I had to be sensitive to the feelings of the people involved and ensure that their portrayal is respectful and accurate, which was tough because of the story.  I did not want to defame any individual and that was a huge consideration. Instead, I wanted to give a heartwarming story about the challenges of two cultures colliding.

I was concerned about the reception of the book by the public and how it would be received by those familiar with the true story.  I was concerned about criticism or backlash if readers feel that the book does not accurately represent the true events or if they feel that I had taken liberties with the story for dramatic effect.

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Meet Author Sofia Bella Roma:

Sofia Bella Roma is a lawyer in North Carolina. She has been practicing law since 2009. She was first licensed to practice law in Massachusetts and then went on to become licensed attorney in North Carolina. Sofia has spent most of her career telling stories. She regularly performs to judges when litigating her cases. Mother Knows Worst is Sofia’s debut novel. This book tackles common problems in relationships and takes on mother-in-law drama with a quirky point of view. Sofia knows firsthand about difficult relationships since she has been practicing law as a divorce attorney. She currently lives with her son and their pet lizard. She has a love for the arts and enjoys making people laugh.

 

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MOTHER KNOWS WORST Book Tour Giveaway

 

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“Gripping. One of the most beautiful books I’ve read in a long time.” 

— International Review of Books

 

 The Shade Under the Mango Tree

  by Evy Journey

Publisher: Sojourner Books

Pages: 288

Genre: Women’s Literary Fiction / Cultural Heritage Fiction

 

After two heartbreaking losses, Luna wants adventure. Something and somewhere very different from the affluent, sheltered home in California and Hawaii where she grew up. An adventure in which she can also make some difference. She ends up in place steeped in an ancient culture and a deadly history.

Raised by her grandmother in a Honolulu suburb, she moves to her parents’ home in California at thirteen and meets her brothers for the first time. Grandma persuades her to write a journal whenever she’s lonely or overwhelmed as a substitute for someone to whom she could reveal her intimate thoughts.

Lucien, a worldly, well-traveled young architect, finds a stranger’s journal at a café. He has qualms and pangs of guilt about reading it. But they don’t stop him. His decision to go on reading changes his life.

Months later, they meet at a bookstore where Luna works and which Lucien frequents. Fascinated by his stories and his adventurous spirit, Luna volunteers for the Peace Corps. Assigned to Cambodia, she lives with a family whose parents are survivors of the Khmer Rouge genocide forty years earlier. What she goes through in a rural rice-growing village defies anything she could have imagined. Will she leave this world unscathed?

Inspired by the healing effects of writing, this is an epistolary tale of love—between an idealistic young woman and her grandmother and between the young woman and a young architect. It’s a tale of courage, resilience of the human spirit, and the bonds that bring diverse people together.

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Also available as an audiobook

 

 

Book Excerpt  

 


Prologue

Ov’s thin upper body is slumped over his crossed legs, his forehead resting on the platform. His brown, wiry arms lie limp, the right one extended forward, hand dangling over the edge of the platform. Dried blood is splattered on his head, and on the collar, right shoulder, and back of his old short-sleeved white shirt.

It seems fitting that he died where he used to spend most of his time when he wasn’t on the rice fields—sitting on a corner of the bamboo platform in the ceiling-high open space under the house. It’s where you get refreshing breezes most afternoons, after a long day of work.

The policeman looks down at Ov’s body as if he’s unsure what to do next. He lays down his camera and the gun in a plastic bag at one end of the platform untainted by splatters of gelled blood.

He steps closer to the body, anchors himself with one knee on top of the platform, and bends over the body. Hooking his arms underneath Ov’s shoulders and upper arms, he pulls the body up, and carefully lays it on its back. He straightens the legs.

He steps off the platform. Stands still for a few seconds to catch his breath. He turns to us and says, “It’s clear what has happened. I have all the pictures I need.”

He points to his camera, maybe to make sure we understand. We have watched him in silence, three zombies still in shock. Me, standing across the bamboo platform from him. Mae and Jorani sitting, tense and quiet, on the hammock to my left.

Is that it? Done already? I want to ask him: Will he have the body taken away for an autopsy? I suppose that’s what is routinely done everywhere in cases like this. But I don’t know enough Khmer.

As if he sensed my unspoken question, he glances at me. A quick glance that comes with a frown. He seems perplexed and chooses to ignore me.

He addresses the three of us, like a captain addressing his troop. “You can clean up.”

The lingering frown on his brow softens into sympathy. He’s gazing at Jorani, whose mournful eyes remain downcast. He looks away and turns toward Mae. Pressing his hands together, he bows to her. A deeper one than the first he gave her when she and Jorani arrived.

He utters Khmer words too many and too fast for me to understand. From the furrowed brow and the look in his eyes, I assume they are words of sympathy. He bows a third time, and turns to go back to where he placed the gun and camera. He picks them up and walks away.

For a moment or two, I stare at the figure of the policeman walking away.  Then I turn to Jorani. Call him back. Don’t we have questions? I can ask and you can translate, if you prefer. But seeing her and Mae sitting as still and silent as rocks, hands on their laps, and eyes glazed as if to block out what’s in front of them, the words get trapped in my brain. Their bodies, rigid just moments before, have gone slack, as if to say: What else can anyone do? What’s done cannot be undone. All that’s left is to clean up, as the policeman said. Get on with our lives.

My gaze wanders again toward the receding figure of the policeman on the dirt road, the plastic bag with the gun dangling in his right hand. Does it really matter how Cambodian police handles Ov’s suicide? I witnessed it. I know the facts. And didn’t I read a while back how Buddhism frowns upon violations on the human body? The family might object against cutting up Ov—the way I’ve seen on TV crime shows—just to declare with certainty what caused his death.

I take in a long breath. I have done all I can and must defer to Cambodian beliefs and customs.

But I can’t let it go yet. Ov chose to end his life in a violent way and I’m curious: Do the agonies of his last moments show on his face? I steal another look.

All I could gather, from where I stand, is life has definitely gone out of every part of him. His eyes are closed and immobile. The tic on his inanimate cheeks hasn’t left a trace. The tic that many times was the only way I could tell he had feelings. Feelings he tried to control or hide. Now, his face is just an expressionless brown mask. Maybe everyone really has a spirit, a soul that rises out of the body when one dies, leaving a man-size mass of clay.

I stare at Ov’s body, lying in a darkened, dried pool of his own blood, bits of his skull and brain scattered next to his feet where his head had been. At that moment, it hits me that this would be the image of Ov I will always remember. I shudder.

My legs begin to buckle underneath me and I turn around, regretting that last look. With outstretched hands, I take a step toward the hammock. Jorani rises to grab my hands, and she helps me sit down next to Mae.

Could I ever forget? Could Mae and Jorani? Would the image of Ov in a pool of blood linger in their memories like it would in mine?

I know I could never tell my parents what happened here this afternoon. But could I tell Lucien? The terrible shock of watching someone, in whose home I found a family, fire a gun to his head? And the almost as horrifying realization—looking back—that I knew what he was going to do, but I hesitated for a few seconds to stop him.

 

More…

 

 

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About the Author

 

 

 

 

Her one ungranted wish: To live in Paris where art is everywhere and people have honed aimless roaming to an art form. She has visited and stayed a few months at a time.

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The Man Who Screams At Nightfall… and other stories by Rush Leaming Banner

The Man Who Screams At Nightfall… and other stories
by Rush Leaming
January 16 – February 10, 2023 Virtual Book Tour

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Synopsis:

Thailand. The Congo. Greece. Spain. America… Four continents and 40+ years in the making. The Man Who Screams At Nightfall is a landmark collection of short stories depicting a young man on a classic voyage of self-discovery, scouring the earth in search of some purpose in life. From childhood to parenthood and everything in between—these tales are at times raw and unflinching, at other times poignant and moving. Get ready for a literary journey unlike any you’ve experienced before.

WARNING: Some of these stories contain strong language, depictions of graphic violence, and sexual situations.

Praise for The Man Who Screams At Nightfall…and other stories:

“A powerful, gritty, and exquisitely written anthology —not to be missed.”

“A short story collection that excels in its sense of literary psychological growth and discovery. Libraries looking for interconnected short stories that represent life journeys and revelations will find The Man Who Screams At Nightfall…and other stories an appealing acquisition that promises much fodder for discussion to book club readers interested in fictional blends of psychological and social revelation.”

Midwest Book Review, D. Donovan

“Sharply observed, nuanced, precise, and morally challenging…”

“Leaming’s light hand with dialogue and keen sense of human psychology create a book that highlights weighty issues by putting a compassionate human face on human struggles. Sharp, inventive, and deeply moving: a fine literary collection.”

Book View

“Without a lengthy description of the characters, just enough to provide the imagery necessary to identify them, he catches and holds the reader’s attention like no other I’ve experienced in the hundreds of books and stories I’ve read over the years.”

Reader’s Favorite, L. Allen

 

Book Details:

Genre: Literary Fiction

Published by: Bridgewood Publishing Publication Date: November 2022 Number of Pages: 150 ISBN: 0999745670 (ISBN-13: 9780999745670)

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:
…I could see the glow of a fire up ahead of us, and as we reached the mango tree, Pumbu motioned for me to stay low and follow him along a small wall of honeysuckle bushes. We crouched down, and from our hiding place, I saw Kachamba furiously pacing back and forth in his yard in front of a small bonfire. He swung his arms wildly in the air as if he was fighting off something that was falling on him. He dropped to his knees and then suddenly sprang three feet off the ground. Then he began to dance, swaying and spinning his body so close to the fire that I was certain he was going to fall in. All the while he screamed and shouted deep into the empty black night. He spoke in a dialect that I couldn’t understand, so I had to ask Pumbu to tell me what he was saying. I asked him many questions: Why was he doing this? Who was he speaking to? Was he drunk? What was going on? Pumbu patiently explained to me that no, he was not drunk, and that he really didn’t know who he was speaking to, but that Kachamba’s wife had left him a few years ago, run off with another man and taken their children, and that ever since, he had not been right in the head. He was not from this village and had been kicked out of all the other places he had lived. He came here only because Kachamba’s father, the chief of Kitengo’s uncle, had once saved the life of the chief’s father (Kachamba’s uncle) and so the chief had to let him stay to repay that old favor. It was all very complicated, Pumbu said, and he didn’t fully understand it himself. I was hardly listening, instead transfixed and horrified by what I saw. Spinning, swirling, shouting, and screaming—Kachamba’s face, so calm and happy as I had seen it earlier that day, was now knotted and twisted like a grotesque carnival mask, like some gargoyle sprung from the lowest depths of hell. The glow of the fire cut fierce shadows and gorges in his face, adding to the haunting vision that I saw. For a long while, Pumbu and I hid behind the honeysuckle bushes and watched Kachamba shriek and wail and try to push back the night, until suddenly, all at once, he just stopped. Suddenly, he just stood still and quiet and stared at the sky. I followed his gaze and saw another shooting star. When I looked back, Kachamba had disappeared. “Is that it?” I asked. “That’s it,” said Pumbu. “He usually only does this for an hour or so.” “And he does this every night?” “Almost,” said Pumbu and yawned. “Mmm. I’m tired. I think I am going to go home.” We left the bushes, went past the mango tree, and said good night. I walked home alone, both exhilarated and troubled by what I had seen. I entered my room and prepared for bed, but long after I had extinguished my petrol lantern, I lay there staring into the darkness. I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned. It wasn’t that unusual—I noticed that it had been happening a lot lately, that I couldn’t sleep. I got up and found the bottle of Johnnie Walker and knocked back a tall glass until at last I was floating, and at last, my eyes did shut… *** Excerpt from The Man Who Screams At Nightfall… and other stories by Rush Leaming. Copyright 2022 by Rush Leaming. Reproduced with permission from Rush Leaming. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Rush Leaming:
Rush Leaming

RUSH LEAMING has done many things including spending 15+ years in film/video production working on such projects as The Lord of the Rings films. His first novel, Don’t Go, Ramanya, a political thriller set in Thailand, was published in the fall of 2016. His second novel followed suit in the summer of 2018, entitled The Whole of the Moon, set in the Congo at the end of the Cold War. 2021 saw the 5-star reception of his crime thriller Dead Tree Tales. His short stories have appeared in Notations, 67 Press, Lightwave, 5k Fiction, and The Electric Eclectic. He has lived in New York, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Zaire, Thailand, Spain, Greece, South Carolina, England, and Kenya.

Catch Up With Rush: LeamingRush.wixsite.com/Nightfall Goodreads BookBub – @RushLeaming Instagram – @RushLeaming Twitter – @LeamingRush Facebook – @RushLeamingStories

 

 

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