.

šŸ¦‡šŸ“š Magic happens
and sparks fly in the small town of Havers-By-the-Sea when a sharp-tongued
vampire crosses paths with a broody gargoyle. šŸ¦‡šŸ“š

.

Ā 

.

Vamps and Vendettas

Star-Crossed Chronicles Book 3

by AK Nevermore

Genre: Spicy Small Town Paranormal Romance

.

Karma sucks.

Ophelia DiamondƩ never asked to be summoned to Havers-by-the-Sea, but when the
node makes her an offer she can’t refuse, she officially becomes stuck
representing the crappy little town. Having to clean up their messy legal
issues isn’t what she wants to be doing, but anything’s better than being
returned to the vampire court’s clutches—or at least she thought so before she
met the opposing counsel.

Gideon Sperry isn’t known for his patience or his giving nature, but he is one
hell of a lawyer. Unfortunately, all that goes out the window when Ophelia
shows up, and the lawsuit between Havers and Fayet becomes personal.

But the facts aren’t adding up. When it becomes clear that karma’s had a hand
in bringing them together, they need to find a way to build a case against
who’s really at fault for the turbine debacle. If they can’t, it’s not just the
town itself that’s in danger, but every resident’s very lifeblood.

Magic happens and sparks fly in the
small town of Havers-By-the-Sea when a sharp-tongued vampire crosses paths with
a broody gargoyle. VAMPS AND VENDETTAS, a spicy slow burn paranormal romance
novel in the Star-Crossed Chronicles series by AK Nevermore.

Ā 

šŸ¦‡šŸ“š š‘šŽšŒš€šš‚š„ š“š‘šŽšš„š’ š€ššƒ šš‹šŽš“ šš”šššˆš„š’ šŸ“ššŸ¦‡
✦ Sassy Vampire FMC
✦ Overprotective Gargoyle MMC
✦ He Falls First
✦ Hidden Powers
✦ Loads of Snarky Banter
✦ Touch-Her-and-Die
✦ Forced Allies
✦ Dark Secret
✦ Second Chance Romance
✦ Slow Burn
✦ Small Town

šŸ’‹ š‘ŗš’‘š’Šš’„š’† š‹šžšÆšžš„ = šŸŒ¶ļøšŸŒ¶ļøšŸŒ¶ļøšŸŒ¶ļø
Explicit Scenes ~ Very Hot

Ā Ā 

Amazon * BookbubĀ * Goodreads

.

.
.
.
.

.

Prologue

.

Greenthorn Indoctrination Center, Vampire Tribal Lands

Ā 

Ophelia sat on a hard plastic chair, clenching a mangled pamphlet
between her sweaty palms. The silence in the stark, cream and beige waiting
room was beyond oppressive. She
’d been there since six that morning, and the hour hand on the clock
above the frosted glass door had made almost a full circuit.

She riffled her hair. The wait was fucking ridiculous. What the hell
was going on back there? All her forms had been completed, every legal
requirement satisfied. She’d even taken the intro course to their bullshit religious instruction
and been blessed by one of their preoti. This part should’ve gone faster, especially after her more-than-generous donation to the cause.

Fucking bloodsuckers.

God, she just wanted to burst through that stupid door and get this
over with.
Damn it. No. Breathe. She struggled to bite back her temper. Be contrite, Phe. Try to channel fucking worthiness. She snorted. Like that was hard. She was a hell of a lot farther up
the food chain than the rest of the losers that’d shown up to volunteer.

Throughout the day, seats filled with indigents and the dying had
slowly emptied to the right and left of her until only herself and two other
people were in the room.

One of them was laid out on a hospital gurney. Bags of saline and lord
knew what else hung from an IV stand beside him. The other, a woman and
presumably the infirm man’s caregiver, slowly flicked through her tablet. By the way she was
chewing her lower lip and shifting in her seat, whatever she was reading was
juicy.

Ophelia scowled, hooking the long, jagged bangs of her pixie cut behind
an ear. What the woman should be doing was reading up on how to properly care
for the soon-to-be-corpse’s colostomy. Even across the room, the stench of shit was eye-watering.

What a cunty little campfire scout, all prepared for the wait. Ophelia
flicked her nails and picked at the black gel tips, begrudgingly admitting that
she’d been too confident she’d be one of the first volunteers called and hadn’t thought about how to pass the time. Normys looking to join the vampiric tribes and subscribe to their fucked-up religion were usually either
vagrants, on death’s door, or some special kind of desperate.

Ophelia was a very healthy twenty-nine, a rising star in the litigation
world, and fell squarely into the last category.

She was also positive that her soon-to-be-husband would completely lose
his shit if he knew she was here, and every second that ticked past increased
the probability of him figuring out where she was. Ophelia wiped her sweaty
palms against her thighs, all too clearly imagining him bursting through the
door, full-on gargoyle.

Her eyes flicked to the clock. These assholes needed to hurry the fuck up.

The bullshit work conference she’d invented wasn’t going to hold up to close scrutiny, but it was the best she could do on short notice. The approval for her to join the tribes had come through
almost immediately, and she needed that goddamned virus.

She slowly exhaled and flipped open the mangled pamphlet for the
umpteenth time, smoothing it over her bespoke, tailored slacks, glad her phone
had died after the first few hours, nixing any temptation to call Deo and come
clean about what she was doing.

Fuck around and find out never went over well with him, but that—and his abs—were one of the many reasons she was head over heels for the guy. No
one else had ever cared enough to call her on her shit. She chewed a nail,
knowing exactly what he would say about all this, but screw him. He wouldn’t understand. How could he? He was a supe and she wasn’t. This needed to happen. She could feel it in her bones. It was the
next step.

She couldn’t lose him, couldn’t think about him with someone else after the fact, and her mortality
guaranteed that was gonna happen.

Yeah, over her undead body.

Her gaze dropped to the pamphlet. Rereading it was stupid. At this
point, she could recite it verbatim.

ā€œVampirism is a sacred gift.ā€

Ophelia didn’t quite snort, but damn, that line got her every time. Bit of a stretch
there. Though, she had to admit, the tribes had a killer marketing team. She
did snort at that, running a hand over her face. God, she’d been here too long, but Vampiric Syndrome wasn’t a gift, sacred or otherwise. It was caused by a virus carried by
gravers, a rare species of centipede from the eastern continent that fed on
dead bodies.

Gotta love nature, right? Gross, but nothing special. Well, unless they
chowed down on someone that hadn’t quite passed into the hereafter. That was unfortunate, and probably
unpleasant if said undead were a supe, but if one had the questionable honor of
being born a normy like her?

Hello, vampire.

Ophelia put a hand to her churning stomach. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to ingesting one of the fucking things, but if the Victorians could down tapeworms to drop a pound or seventeen, how
bad could this be? Granted, tapeworms didn’t have twelve rows of razor-sharp teeth, but…

Fucking A. Who was she trying to kid? It was gonna be horrible.

God, stop being such a pussy. To be with Deo forever, she’d chase the fucking thing with a shot of broken glass if that’s what it took.

Ophelia blew out her cheeks and slumped, her tailbone throbbing from
the hard plastic. It was a serious bummer she’d been inoculated for Vampiric Syndrome as a kid. Before the Purge, all
you had to do was bang someone already infected to contract VS.

Which was what had kicked off the Purge, the development of the
vaccine, was the reason all corpses were now cremated, and a whole host of
other shit.

Including the tribes’ need for volunteers to maintain their population.

A shadow moved behind the frosted glass. Ophelia sat up as a brunette
vamp with a severe bun and a nurse’s uniform straight out of the 1940s pushed through with a clipboard. A
name tag at her breast read ā€œCrake,ā€ and the tatuaj around her eyes radiated to her temples like a spider’s web. The markings looked like a tattoo but weren’t. It was how the virus presented itself and was the basis for their
fucked-up caste system.

ā€œMs. DiamondĆ©?

It was about goddamn time. ā€œHere,ā€ Ophelia said, raising a finger before she stood. She wiped her palms on
her slacks and grabbed her purse.

Nurse Crake tongued her cheek, her unnaturally red lips pressed
together. She looked Ophelia up and down before checking off something on her
clipboard and gesturing for her to follow.

The hallway beyond was as stark as the waiting room had been. White
walls, sanitary molding, doors with stainless steel kickplates. All of those
had bars dropped across them, moans and thumps coming from within. One of the
long fluorescent bulbs flickered above.

ā€œBirthdate?ā€ the nurse asked, her dark eyes on the clipboard.

Something hit one of the doors as they passed, and Ophelia adjusted her
purse higher onto her shoulder. ā€œUh, November third, 2015.ā€

ā€œAnd you’re here because…?ā€ The nurse flicked through a bunch of papers, and Ophelia caught a flash
of her signature at the bottom of one of the many consent forms she’d signed.

She wet her lips. ā€œVampirism speaks to me,ā€ she bullshitted, though it wasn’t totally a lie. The part where it extended one’s existence indefinitely was absolutely calling her name. The rest of
it could fuck off, but if she had to eat a bug then drink blood to make that
happen, so be it.

Nurse Crake glanced at her askance like she knew Ophelia was full of
shit. Well, at least she wasn’t stupid. She stopped at a door and pushed it open, gesturing for
Ophelia to go in.

The room beyond looked like every other doctor’s office she’d ever been in. Padded, papered table, crappy cream and blue wallpaper, a wheeled, stainless steel table, and a little laminate counter area with a
tiny sink and canisters of swabs and cotton balls.

ā€œRemove your clothes and put them and the rest of your belongings in
here,ā€ Nurse Crake said, handing over a clear plastic drawstring bag with
Ophelia’s name scrawled on it. ā€œThere’s a gown on the table, ties in the back. The doctor will be with you
shortly.ā€

The door clicked shut behind her, and Ophelia took a deep breath before
beginning to undress. Her hands shook as she unbuttoned her slacks and wriggled
out of them.
Deo. Think about Deo. A visual of the mountainous, gruff blond man flashed across her mind’s eye. The way his stubble glinted on his square jaw, his intense
turquoise eyes…

ā€œIt doesn’t matter how much time we have together, Phe. We’ll make the most of what we have, and I’ll love you until the endā€¦ā€

But it did matter. She flicked a hand across her cheek. The thought of
growing old while he stayed eternally young—there wasn’t a fucking chance she was going to subject him to mashing up her food and changing her diapers. And he would, damn him. No. This would take all of
that off the table. It was the only way they could be together without her
fucking mortality hanging over them like a shroud.

She tied the gown and sat on the table, paper crinkling beneath her.
Her pulse raced. He was going to be so angry with her, but he’d get over it…right? He always did. And then they could be together forever. With her credentials, whatever tribe she was assigned to would give her a dispensation
to work outside the tribal lands.

The mandatory tithe her position at the firm would provide all but
guaranteed that. She’d done the research. Save for two she couldn’t track down, every volunteer since the Purge with a high-paying career had returned to their normy lives. Tithing was how the tribes were funded, and
her salary was three times what the majority of them made.

Then why are you sweating so much?

Fuck. She raked a hand through her hair. Did it matter? Introspection
was pointless and not her jam to begin with. For better or worse, this was
happening.

A soft knock sounded at the door, and a moment later it was pushed
open. A thin, dark-haired vamp in a lab coat came into the room with another,
younger male and Nurse Crake behind them. She carried a stainless steel tray. A
crimson velvet cloth covered whatever was on it. She set it by the padded
table, then busied herself by the counter.

The dark-haired vamp flipped through her chart, pursing his lips, and
pushed up his glasses. The tatuaj beneath them were the same webbed design as
Nurse Crake’s and the other vampire’s. Guess there was a tribe of medics.

ā€œMs. DiamondĆ©,ā€ the dark-haired vamp said. ā€œI’m Doctor Wong, and this is my intern, Louis. He’ll be observing today, unless you have any objection?ā€

ā€œNope.ā€ As long as they made her into a vampire, Ophelia didn’t care if they did it on stage and sold tickets.

ā€œWonderful.ā€ He smiled, the tips of his pointed incisors gleaming. ā€œI apologize for the wait, but in cases such as yours, we like to give the applicants time to fully consider their commitment to our cause.ā€

Seriously? That’d been some kind of test? Ophelia bit back a snarky retort, the paper
drape crinkling beneath her. ā€œOf course.ā€ She smiled back, hoping it looked more genuine than it was. ā€œCompletely understandable. However, I am fully committed.ā€

The doctor nodded, and Nurse Crake took Ophelia’s arm, swabbing it to install a port for an IV. Ophelia winced at the pinch. The woman might not be particularly pleasant, but she was efficient.

ā€œWell, then everything appears to be in order,ā€ the doctor said, flipping through pages as the nurse sent a burst of frigid saline through the IV. Louis scanned the chart over the doctor’s shoulder, reading along with him and taking notes. ā€œI see you’ve completed the first course of religious instruction as well. Highly
commendable. Are we ready to proceed?ā€ he asked Crake. At her nod, his eyes flicked to Ophelia.

She swallowed roughly, her mouth dry. ā€œPlease.ā€

Doctor Wong and Nurse Crake exchanged a glance.

ā€œThen lie back to be secured,ā€ the doctor said, reaching for a box of blue gloves on the counter. ā€œThe process doesn’t take very long, and as soon as we’ve finished here, you’ll be transported to the applicable tribe’s sect for recovery. That usually takes two to three days, and your
reintroduction will be evaluated based on how well you adapt to reanimation.ā€

Ophelia nodded, fighting a sudden burst of anxiety. The wedding was in
a week, and there wasn’t a chance in hell she was missing it.
You can do this, Phe.

She lay back, and Nurse Crake moved to her side, pulling thick leather
straps from the sides of the table. She buckled them around Ophelia’s torso and forehead, then pulled out others for her arms and wrists.

ā€œFor your safety.ā€ Crake smiled, her grin much more predatory than the good doctor’s and about as legitimate as Ophelia’s had been. The nurse filled a hypodermic, then plinked it.

ā€œAh, what is your preferred orifice?ā€ the doctor asked.

Ophelia started, her gaze fixed on the needle. ā€œWhat is that?ā€

ā€œA lethal injection,ā€ he murmured, pushing up his glasses and still scanning her chart. ā€œWhere would you prefer the vessel to make entry? It’s not listed here.ā€

ā€œI-I thought I had to eat it?ā€ Ophelia stammered.

ā€œAny hole will do,ā€ the nurse murmured with a smirk, setting the needle aside to transition
the end of the table flat and secure Ophelia’s legs. A slot opened beneath her rear and Crake yanked up the drape
leaving Ophelia’s bare ass to dangle.

Her nether regions clenched. She hadn’t— ā€œMouth. Mouth is fine.ā€

The doctor grunted and reverently folded back the crimson cloth. He
murmured something and made a solemn gesture before lifting a low jar that’d been nestled on a cushion.

Ophelia’s breath sped at the writhing contents, reconsidering all of her life
choices. No. She could do this for Deo. For them, for their future.

The doctor shook the jar, sending the churning mass to the bottom
before setting it back on the cushion and opening the lid. Decay laced the air.
He picked up a pair of long, silver tweezers and plucked out a flailing insect.
Its fanged maw gaped as it struggled, twisting and curling up on itself.

ā€œInjection please.ā€

Nurse Crake jammed the needle into the IV’s port, and a horrible, searing burn sped up Ophelia’s arm. She whimpered at the rush of heat cresting over her, her heart
stuttering. Its fluttering beat a mantra:
For Deo, for Deo…for Deo…

The doctor held the irate centipede above her. ā€œWaiting for pupil dilation…and open.ā€

Her lips refused to cooperate.

The doctor frowned and gripped her jaw—

The centipede fell from his grasp and hit Ophelia’s face with a cold, chitinous slap. She recoiled as it flipped, its tiny legs scrabbling to grip her skin. Its length conformed to the contour of
her cheek and then skittered sinuously to her nostril. Her arms jerked against
her restraints, her head unable to thrash, and a terrible lethargy stealing
over her. Heart slowing, her vision grayed, fingers twitching, mind screaming:
get it off, get it off, GET IT OFF!

It wriggled into her nasal cavity, clawing into her sinuses, and a
garbled moan slipped from her lips. Blinding agony seared across her vision,
and she screamed, sharp teeth feasting inside her skull. Her eyes watered. No,
it was too hot for tears, the scent of copper thick, cloying the back of her
throat. Her pores wept, her skin coated with a slick, sticky film, and the air
redolent with the scent of blood.

Nurse Crake licked her lips.

An unnatural numbness bloomed from the bridge of Ophelia’s nose, radiating from her eye sockets, and the rest of her body
seized. Foam flecked her lips, her eyes rolling back into her head. A bright,
white light shone down for a moment and was ripped away, along with any sense
of peace she’d ever felt. Nothing was left but searing, burning, unrelenting pain.

Emotion dissolved beneath it, thoughts a murky haze, her body
unresponsive. She was hollow, her mind a void. Empty.

ā€œVery good. It’s taking well. Note the patient has entered rigor. Her sudden pallor
coinciding with the sheen of blood-fever and the emergence of the tatuaj around
her eyes, there and thereā€¦ā€ the doctor said, pointing with his pen, his voice distant and tinny. A
godawful cramp went through her body, and a horrific, spattering stench filled
the air. ā€œBowels voidedā€¦ā€ He frowned. ā€œSomeone didn’t fast as instructed.ā€

The urge to laugh burbled up Ophelia’s throat, spittle foaming from her mouth. Agony morphed into a bizarre
euphoria, her limbs leaden and the feeling of an immense weight crushing down
on her. Her heart, still.

Dead.

A wrenching shudder wracked her body as her heart spasmed, once, twice,
then sluggishly began to beat again. She strained against the straps pinning
her to the table, her chest heaving with the effort.

ā€œVery good,ā€ the doctor murmured.

The room came back into focus, sounds sharper than they should be. The
flow of ink from the doctor’s pen as he wrote. Loose strands of Crake’s hair rubbing against one another. The slow scrape of Louis’s blink.

ā€œWhat the fuck?ā€ Ophelia gasped, her tongue thick and her eyes darting, colors far more
vivid than they had been. Bright, everything was too damned bright.

ā€œWelcome back, Ms. DiamondĆ©. Disorientation is a normal side effect of transitioning,ā€ the doctor said absently, busy making notes. ā€œRest assured, any increased sensitivities you may be experiencing will
lessen over the next thirty-six to forty-eight hours as the virus continues the
reanimation process.ā€ He stabbed the pen against the clipboard, finished with whatever he was
writing, and set it aside with a wide smile. ā€œNow, let’s see where we’ll be sending you, shall we?ā€

Crake wheeled over a tray. The doctor snugged his gloves before taking
a pair of hemostats from the nurse and dipping a wad of gauze into a yellow
solution. He dragged it across Ophelia’s brow, then discarded it almost immediately for another, the tiny pad
thick with gore.

Ophelia winced at the rough drag of it across her skin. Jesus Chri—

Agony flared through her skull, and she cried out. The doctor hummed
above her and swapped out the gauze again. ā€œYou need to put a call in to Vesper,ā€ he murmured.

ā€œVesper?ā€ the nurse spat out behind him, incredulous. ā€œAre you sure?ā€

ā€œMmmā€ he hummed again, swabbing. ā€œThe tatuaj are gifted as the Great One wills, and whom are we to judge
which tribe she’s been deemed worthy of?ā€

ā€œButā€”ā€ Crake pushed forward, her eyes narrowing above pinched lips. ā€œI’ll alert the court.ā€ She scowled and left the room. Louis raced after her, his face white.

ā€œWhat—what’s happening?ā€ Ophelia lisped, her tongue fumbling against sharp incisors. A terrible
thirst had overcome her, making it hard to think. She licked her parched lips,
the acrid taste of her own sweat roiling her stomach. Vesper? She couldn’t remember a tribe called Vesper.

ā€œYour transition may have very well just signed the death warrants of
everyone who witnessed it,ā€ the doctor said, snapping off his gloves. ā€œPrince Kremlyn suffers no rivals for his concubine’s attentions.ā€

What? Ophelia’s mind raced. No. She couldn’t be a—Deo. The wedding. She’d left her engagement ring by the sink. That last fight they’d had. He’d think she abandoned him, that she’d run. ā€œNo, no. I-I’m not a concubine, I’m an attorneyā€”ā€

ā€œYou are whatever the tatuaj has decreed,ā€ the doctor said firmly, moving to the door. ā€œSomeone will be in to take you to seclusion. Whatever call to vampirism
you felt, I very much hope it keeps you warm at the citadel. You won’t be leaving it.ā€

The door shut behind him with an ominous click, and Ophelia’s breath stuttered. The citadel? No, that was impossible. What had she
done, what had she done?
Oh, God—

Agony bloomed through her skull at the word, and she whimpered, tears
tracking from the corners of her eyes. The awful reality of her actions crashed
down around her, and an insatiable thirst gnawed at her hollowed insides.

The names of the women she couldn’t track down—the two who had disappeared—flitted through her mind, along with a very bad feeling that she’d be joining them.

.

.

**Don’t miss the other books in the Star-Crossed Chronicles series!**

.

.

Weres and Witchery

Star-Crossed Chronicles Book 1

A sassy witch with curves for days stirs up passion with
an irresistible alpha shifter.

Get it on Amazon

.

Wards and Warlocks

Star-Crossed Chronicles Book 2

A sassy warlock with oodles of style has sparks fly with
an angsty shifter.

Get it on Amazon

.

AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases
coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a
certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when she’s not
reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up camo Chucks.

Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to
become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time.

She pays the bills editing, wielding a wicked hot pink pen
and writing a column on SFF. She also belongs to the Authors Guild, is a
chapter treasurer for the RWA, teaches creative writing, and on the rare
occasion, sleeps.

Ā 

Website * Facebook * X * Instagram * Bluesky * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

.

Ā 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

.


Enter the Vamps and Vendettas Giveaway Here!

.

.

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

Abducted

By J.S. Ash

 

(The Beast’s Burden Chronicles, #1)
Publication date: February 22nd 2026
Genres: New Adult, Science Fiction, Young Adult

Trapped aboard a living spacecraft hidden above her hometown, a teenage outcast must wage a one-girl war against ruthless alien mercenaries to save her best friend before the ship jumps into deep space.

A SHIP FULL OF ALIENS TOOK HER BEST FRIEND. THEY SHOULD’VE LEFT HER ON EARTH.

Abigail Ashby was raised to be a weapon by a dad convinced the world was on the brink of collapse. Then, inexplicably, he forced her into early retirement—aka high school.

These days, Abigail’s only battle is defending Harris, her outcast best friend who swears his parents were abducted by aliens. She’s secretly sure he’s delusional—right up until his bedroom explodes in amethyst light.

They wake up aboard the Beast’s Burden, an interstellar warship lurking above their town. Its leader, a sadistic warlord, seizes Harris as his prize, while Abigail slips away in the chaos—overlooked, underestimated.

Until she kills an alien to survive.

Now, hunted through the ship’s living corridors, Abigail must decide: retreat into the shadows, or unleash the lethal training she buried to wage a one-girl war and save everything she’s ever known… Because Harris isn’t just a hostage. He’s the trigger for humanity’s extinction.

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

ā€œWait—I’m sorry. Abigail, I didn’t mean that. Please don’t go.ā€

Abigail froze in her tracks, but it had nothing to do with Harris’s plea. An unearthly shriek had erupted, ricocheting endlessly around the room, and all the warmth had instantly drained from her body.

ā€œWhat is that?ā€ she asked, ice surging through her veins.

Harris looked like he had seen a ghost. ā€œI have no idea, but it’s coming fromā€”ā€

With a deafening crack, four dark spheres shot out from underneath the bed and slammed into the corners of the room. Abigail watched, petrified, as the spheres oozed apart, spreading to cover the walls in a thick layer of disgusting sludge.

ā€œYou’re seeing this, right?ā€ she said, voice trembling.

Harris nodded slowly, and Miss Biscuits started howling.

The ghastly sound reached a new ear-piercing level as the sludge began crackling with unstable amethyst purple energy.

ā€œWe need to get out of here!ā€ Abigail shouted. She dashed for the window, but the light glittering across its surface flared violently in response, and she recoiled, backing away slowly.

The shriek was becoming unbearable. Abigail could hardly hear herself think, let alone process what was happening.

ā€œThis way!ā€ shouted Harris as he lunged for the bedroom door, but the pulsing glow surrounding the handle suddenly sparked, jumping eagerly to his outstretched hand.

Amethyst purple light rippled through Harris’s entire body, shining beneath his skin. Abigail watched in horror as an unnatural smile slowly twisted across his face.

ā€œHarris?ā€ she said cautiously.

Harris’s head swiveled toward Abigail and his morbid grin twisted into fear. The amethyst purple light erupted out of his skin, contorting him backwards into a jagged arch. His body was suddenly blasted onto the ceiling, held there for a moment by an invisible force before dropping sharply to the ground, the impact kicking up a cloud of dust from the hardwood.

ā€œHarris!ā€ Abigail screamed, rushing to his motionless body. This was a nightmare. Everywhere she looked the amethyst purple light was encroaching—over the ceiling, across the walls, and covering the floor, inching right for them. Abigail scrambled to grab Harris under his arms and used every ounce of her strength to drag him onto the bed, only just avoiding the energy as it engulfed the remainder of the room’s surfaces.

ā€œHarris, wake up!ā€ she shouted as she checked for a pulse.

ā€œAbby!?ā€ came a muffled cry.

She strained to see Taylor pounding outside the window, an uncharacteristically horrified expression on his face through the amethyst-colored glare. He took a step back and then charged, but the barrier flared the moment his shoulder made contact, and he was repelled away in a shower of shattered glass.

Abigail’s eyes darted around the room, her fear mounting as the shrieking hit yet another plateau. Blood pounded in her ears. ā€œHarris, wake up. Please wake up!ā€ she pleaded, her voice barely audible over the howling of Miss Biscuits and everything else.

The sludgy spheres had re-formed in the corners of the ceiling and they were pulsing erratically. They seemed to be the source of whatever was happening—what was happening?!—perhaps they could be shut down somehow… But how? Abigail grabbed Harris’s hand, hopelessly begging him to wake up, and her fingers made contact with a ripple of raised skin—the scar.

Abigail’s gaze snapped to the samurai sword hanging on the wall. Scrambling to her feet, she ripped it from its mount and unsheathed it. The gleaming blade appeared as sharp as it had all those years ago.

ā€œAbby! Abby! What are you doing?!ā€ Taylor’s voice cut through the chaos. He was back on his feet just outside the shattered window. He was holding up a small metallic object that Abigail couldn’t quite make out through the amethyst refraction. She didn’t have time for this. The high-pitched shriek was growing more and more deafening, the amethyst-colored light burning ever more severely. Instinctively, she knew it was now or never. She had to disrupt whatever was happening.

She frantically scanned the spheres, her entire body shaking. Though she had no clue this would work, the one in the corner by the door seemed like her best shot. ā€œYou can do this,ā€ she said to herself, but she didn’t remotely believe it. Gathering all her strength, she sprinted towards the edge of the bed, leaping into the air with the hilt held firmly in her grasp. With a loud clang, the sword sliced through the sphere, miraculously penetrating the energy barrier and lodging in the wall.

As gravity pulled Abigail toward the floor, time seemed to slow, and she watched the damaged sphere start to skitter in and out of reality, spewing sparks in all directions like it was about to explode. The blinding amethyst light and eardrum-bursting shriek reached their crescendos just before Abigail hit the ground.

She felt a surge of pure agony, and then, there was nothing.

.

About Author J.S. Ash:

J.S. Ash has spent over a decade working in media at one of the largest tech companies in the world, though his true love remains storytelling. His creative DNA was forged in the 90s—a blend of blockbuster action cinema, console gaming, and the high-stakes melodrama of the era’s teen soaps. He lives with his wife and daughter, who serve as the primary inspiration for the resilient, protective heroines at the heart of his stories.

Website / Goodreads

.

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

.

Abducted Blitz

.

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

 

.

Some rules were made to be broken.

.

.

Forbidden Bases

Bridger City Falcons Book 1

by Alexa Fauli

Genre: Sweet Fake Dating Sports Romance

CARTER

I’m Carter Blake—star first baseman for the Bridger City Falcons. Fame, money,
women… I have it all.

Except the one woman I was never supposed to want.

Darcy Simmons is my best friend’s little sister. Off-limits. Always has been.
But when she comes back to town, every line I drew years ago blurs fast. One
bad night, one viral photo, and suddenly we’re pretending we’ve been secretly
dating.

It’s fake. Temporary. Harmless.

Until it isn’t.

DARCY

Carter Blake was my teenage crush—the one I never got over. Now he’s a
professional baseball star with a reputation that screams heartbreak.

Faking a relationship with him should be easy. Safe. No feelings allowed.

But the longer we pretend, the harder it becomes to ignore what’s always been
there—and the more I risk losing my heart to the one man who could destroy it.

FORBIDDEN BASESĀ is a sweet
baseball romance featuring fake dating, brother’s best friend, no cheating, and
a guaranteed HEA.

Some rules were made to be broken.

WHAT READERS WILL LOVE

āœ” Fake dating
āœ” Brother’s best friend
āœ” Sweet and emotional romance
āœ” No cheating
āœ” Slow-burn tension
āœ” Guaranteed HEA
āœ” Perfect for fans of Hallmark-style romance with a
sporty twist

Amazon * BookbubĀ * Goodreads

.

Ā 

,
.

Carter

I pulled into the players’ lot at Falcons Stadium, my
truck’s tires crunching over the gravel as I found my usual spot. The afternoon
sun bathed the stadium in golden light, and I could already smell the freshly
cut grass as I grabbed my gear from the passenger seat. Practice days had their
own rhythm, different from game days—less pressure, more fine-tuning. I
stretched my arms over my head, feeling yesterday’s game still lingering in my
muscles. Coach Miller would be waiting, probably already pacing the field with
that damn whistle, ready to critique every move we made.

The locker room buzzed with the usual pre-practice chatter.
I nodded to Rivera at his locker across from mine.

“Blake! How’s that shoulder feeling?” he asked,
tossing me a roll of athletic tape.

I caught it with one hand. “Better than your batting
average.” I grinned to soften the jab.

“You’re an asshole,” he laughed, pulling his
practice jersey over his head.

I changed quickly, my movements practiced after years of
this same routine. The smell of liniment and sweat permeated the air, familiar
and oddly comforting. I laced up my cleats, grabbed my glove, and headed for
the dugout.

The late afternoon sun hit me full in the face as I stepped
onto the field. I paused at the top step, taking it in—the emerald expanse of
the outfield, the reddish-brown dirt of the infield, and the crisp white
baselines freshly laid down. This view never got old. A baseball field was the
one place in the world that made perfect sense to me.

“Blake! Stop admiring the scenery and get your ass over
here!” Coach Miller’s voice cut through my moment. I jogged over to where
the team was gathering along the first-base line. Coach stood with his arms
crossed, his Falcons cap pulled low over his eyes, that perpetual look of mild
disappointment etched on his face.

“Alright, listen up,” he barked, not bothering to
raise his voice—he never needed to. “Infielders with me. Outfielders with
Coach Taylor. Pitchers to the bullpen with Ramirez. We’re working on
fundamentals today because apparently, some of you forgot what those are during
yesterday’s game.”

A few guys chuckled. We’d won yesterday, but it had been
sloppy—three errors and some baserunning mistakes that had Coach’s veins
popping out of his neck by the seventh inning.

I followed the rest of the infield to our positions. The
dirt felt firm under my cleats as I took my spot at shortstop. Coach Miller
stood at home plate, fungo bat in hand.

“Let’s go! Double plays. Martinez to Blake to
Thompson.”

He smacked a grounder toward second base. Martinez fielded
it cleanly, pivoted, and fired the ball to me. I caught it as I glided across
second, tapped the bag with my foot, and threw to first in one fluid motion.
The ball hit Thompson’s glove with a satisfying pop.

“Again!” Coach called, already sending another
one.

We fell into rhythm. Ground ball, scoop, throw, catch,
pivot, throw, catch. My body knew what to do without my brain getting involved.
The sun warmed my back, and sweat began to trickle down my spine. I loved
this—the mechanical precision of it, the way my muscles remembered every
movement.

“Blake! Watch your footwork on that double play!”
Coach Miller’s voice cut through my flow. “You’re getting lazy with the
pivot. Do it again.”

I didn’t argue. Coach’s eyes missed nothing. Instead, I
reset my position, adjusted my stance slightly, and waited for the next ball.

“He’s on your ass already?” Thompson called from
first base.

“When is he not?” I shot back with a grin.

The next grounder came hot, a tough short-hop that I had to
charge. I scooped it cleanly, stepped on second, and fired to first—textbook.

“Better,” Coach Miller said, which from him was
practically a standing ovation.

We worked through the drills for another twenty minutes. The
rhythm of practice wrapped around me like a comfortable blanket—the crack of
the bat, the calls from teammates, the thud of balls hitting gloves. My shirt
stuck to my back with sweat, and dirt collected in the creases of my palms.

“Water break, then switching to situational
defense,” Coach announced, blowing his whistle.

I jogged to the dugout, grabbing a paper cup and filling it
from the cooler.

“Looking smooth out there, Blake,” said Diaz, our
catcher, as he filled his own cup.

“Thanks, man. How’re the pitchers looking?”

“Chen’s slider is nasty today. Cruz is still fighting
his control.”

I nodded, draining my cup and crumpling it. The water was
cold against my throat.

“Blake!” Coach Miller appeared at the dugout
steps. “I need you to work with Rodriguez on his transfers. Kid’s got good
hands but he’s fumbling the exchange.”

“Sure thing, Skip.”

Rodriguez was our rookie second baseman, called up just last
month when Pearson went on the injured list. Good kid, quick feet, but still
learning the ropes.

I found him by the batting cage, nervously fielding
grounders from one of the assistants.

“Hey, Rodriguez,” I called, trotting over.
“Coach wants us to work on transfers.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” His eyes widened slightly.
Working directly with a veteran always made the rookies nervous.

“Relax, I don’t bite. Much.” I grinned,
positioning myself next to him. “Show me what you’re doing.”

The assistant coach hit him a grounder. Rodriguez fielded it
well but fumbled slightly as he moved the ball from his glove to his throwing
hand.

“I see the issue,” I said. “You’re rushing
it. Let me show you.”

I nodded to the coach, who sent a grounder my way. I fielded
it smoothly, transferring it to my throwing hand in one fluid motion.

“See how I let the momentum of the ball carry into my
throwing hand? You’re trying to force it.” I demonstrated again.
“It’s all about rhythm. Like dancing with a pretty girl—you’ve got to feel
the flow.”

Rodriguez nodded earnestly. “Can I try again?”

We worked for another fifteen minutes, his transfers
gradually becoming smoother. Coach Miller watched from a distance, his arms
crossed but his scowl a little less severe.

“Better, kid.” I clapped Rodriguez on the
shoulder. “You’ll get it.”

.

,
.
,

āš¾šŸ’ From Hockey Nights to Baseball Dreams

People often assume I started writing sports romance because I’ve always been a baseball girl — and while baseball absolutely owns my heart now, my first sports love was actually hockey.

Growing up, some of my favorite memories were going to Memphis River Kings games with my mom and family friends. Hockey felt fast, loud, and electric. The cold air in the arena, the sound of skates carving across the ice, and the energy of the crowd hooked me immediately. Those nights weren’t just about the game; they were about laughter and the feeling of belonging to something bigger than yourself.

I still love hockey, and I always will.

But somewhere along the way, baseball became home.

Summer evenings watching Atlanta Braves games with my grandparents changed everything for me. Baseball moved at a different rhythm — slower, thoughtful, full of anticipation. I watched players grow into legends, including a young Chipper Jones just starting his career, and I fell in love with the strategy, the emotion, and the quiet magic of the game.

That love followed me into adulthood… and even into my marriage. I married a pitcher, even though he never made it professionally. He did try out for the Cubs, but that was before we met.

When I write sports romance, I draw from all of those experiences — the adrenaline of hockey, the soul of baseball, and the relationships built around both. Sports aren’t just games to me. They’re memories, family, and love stories waiting to happen.

And while I’ll always cheer at a hockey game, baseball will forever be my favorite place to fall in love.

,
.

Alexa Fauli is a devoted sports romance author whose passion
for the Atlanta Braves and love of hockey inspire her vibrant stories of
competition and connection. When she’s not dreaming up unforgettable characters
who play hard for both love and victory, Alexa enjoys sipping toasted white
mochas, watching anime romances, and cherishing time with her family. Her life
is a delightful blend of heart, heat, and the magic that happens both on and
off the page.

Facebook * Amazon * Goodreads

.

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a $20 giveaway!

.


Enter the Forbidden Bases Giveaway Here

.

 

.~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

.

Death at the Dock: An Alyssa Chalmers Historical Mystery
by Carmen Radtke


Death at the Dock: An Alyssa Chalmers Historical Mystery
Historical Cozy Mystery
3rd in Series
Setting – Portland, Oregon, in 1862
Independently Published
Publication date ā€ : ā€Ž February 27, 2026
Print length ā€ : ā€Ž 191 pages
Digital ASIN ā€ : ā€Ž B0GGSRKWDK
Will be available in Paperback too.

.
goodreads badge
A sharp tongue. An even sharper mind. A Victorian sleuth criminals overlook at their peril.

1862. A new home in a prospectors’ town, a new life, and two steadfast admirers: Alyssa Chalmers’ future is secure among her friends.

But when Captain Moore sends a message, begging for her help, she can’t say no.

With the doctor and the First Officer by her side, she travels to Portland, Oregon. She finds a situation worse than she feared. Two of the captain’s crew have gone missing and the local marshal is adamant they simply jumped ship. Even the discovery of a body is unable to change his mind.

Captain Moore knows better. He is convinced that something sinister is going on, and he needs sharp-witted Alyssa and her sleuthing partners to figure it out.

But dark secrets and vices are lurking everywhere. Alyssa needs all her wits to figure out who to trust – and how to save the missing men before there’s another murder.

Death at the Dock is the third mystery in this captivating series that transports readers back to the 1860s, with a heroine determined to make her own way in a society made for men. Perfect for fans of Rhys Bowen’s Molly Murphy and Elizabeth Peters’ Amelia Peabody.

.

About Author Carmen Radtke

Carmen has spent most of her life with ink on her fingers and a dangerously high pile of books and newspapers by her side.

She has worked as a newspaper reporter on two continents.

When she found herself crouched under her dining table, typing away on a novel between two earthquakes in Christchurch, New Zealand, she realised she was hooked for life.

The shaken but stirring novel made it to the longlist of the Mslexia competition, and her next book and first mystery, The Case Of The Missing Bride, was a finalist in the Malice Domestic competition in a year without a winner. Since then she has penned several more cozy mysteries, including the Jack and Frances series set in the 1930s. The cozy midlife witch series featuring Bex Merriweather and her cat familiar are the latest addition to her literary output.

In real life, she’s only spilled blood once, when she swatted a fly, and even that was an accident. Although she’s a devoted cat servant, her feline companion doesn’t talk. Yet.

Carmen now lives in Italy with her human and her four-legged family.

Author Links: Website / Facebook

Purchase Link: Amazon

~~~~~

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

.

.

~~~~~

TOUR PARTICIPANTS

March 5 – Jody’s Bookish Haven – SPOTLIGHT

March 5 – Maureen’s Musings – SPOTLIGHT

March 6 – Christy’s Cozy Corners – CHARACTER GUEST POST

March 6 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

March 7 – Angel’s Book Nook – SPOTLIGHT

March 7 – Baroness Book Trove – SPOTLIGHT

March 8 – Deal Sharing Aunt – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

March 8 – Carla Loves To Read – REVIEW

March 9 – Boys’ Mom Reads! – SPOTLIGHT

March 9 – Sarandipity’s – CHARACTER INTERVIEW

March 10 – Cozy Up With Kathy – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

March 10 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

March 11 – StoreyBook Reviews – SPOTLIGHTĀ Ā 

March 12 – Sarah Can’t Stop Reading Books – REVIEW

March 12 – Novels Alive – REVIEW

March 13 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT

March 14 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – SPOTLIGHT

.

great escapes virtual book tours logo

.

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

Last to Fall by Lynn Blackburn Banner

LAST TO FALL
by Lynn H. Blackburn
March 2 – 13, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
GOSSAMER FALLS

 

She’s caught in a deadly game. He’s the only one who can help her win.

Bronwyn Pierce has poured everything into The Haven, her family’s exclusive mountain resort in Gossamer Falls. But when financial discrepancies surface and the numbers suggest something far darker than simple mismanagement, she’s forced to call on the one person with the skills to help her: Mo Quinn, a former Army intelligence officer, her first love, and the last person she ever wanted to trust again. Mo has spent years avoiding the woman he once loved and the secrets that tore them apart. But when Bronwyn calls, he can’t walk away–especially when it’s clear someone wants her gone for good. As they dig deeper into the treacherous motives behind a blackmail scheme, their proximity reignites long-buried feelings neither of them are ready to face. And when the evidence points to an unexpected culprit, Mo faces an impossible choice: trust the proof in front of him or trust his heart. With danger closing in and no one else to turn to, Bronwyn must break years of silence with Mo to uncover who’s trying to destroy The Haven. They’ll have to risk everything–including their hearts–to expose the truth before it’s too late. The finale to Blackburn’s Gossamer Falls series is an exhilarating romantic suspense novel packed with tension. This gripping read will hook fans of the family rivalry, bodyguard, small town, second chance romance, and forced proximity tropes.

 

Book Details:

Genre: Christian Fiction, Romantic Suspense, Romance

Published by: Revell Publication Date: March 3, 2026 Number of Pages: 368 ISBN: 9780800745387 (ISBN10: 0800745388) Series: Gossamer Falls, Book #3 | Learn more on Amazon, Goodreads, & Baker Book House

Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Christianbook | Goodreads | BookBub | Baker Book House

.

MY REVIEW

I was a fan of the first book, Never Fall Again. It was an engaging introduction to Gossamer Falls and all of the characters. And the author built a solid foundation to make the series a hit. After reading this conclusion to the series I wanted to kick myself for missing the second book, Break My Fall. Not that the author didn’t give me what I needed in filling in the gaps. It was missing out on the changes and growth of her wonderful characters.

Each book features a different couple. This time we get Bronwyn and Mo. They’ve had their ups and downs and their relationship is challenged with sabotage and danger from multiple sides. I really was pulling for them. Things hadn’t worked out in the past and if the current situations were any hint, they get this last chance for a happy ending. Fingers crossed for that.

I zipped right through the story. It’s complexity with the characters and the intrigue of what was truly going on and the who and how of it kept me flipping those pages. It was a super fun read and had a very satisfying ending.

4 STARS

.

Enjoy this peek inside:

.

 

 

About Author Lynn H. Blackburn:

.

Lynn Blackburn

Lynn H. Blackburn is the award-winning author of Never Fall Again, as well as the Dive Team Investigations and Defend and Protect series. She loves writing swoon-worthy Southern suspense because her childhood fantasy was to become a spy, but her grown-up reality is that she’s a huge chicken and would have been caught on her first mission. She prefers to live vicariously through her characters by putting them into terrifying situations while she sits at home in her pajamas. She lives in Simpsonville, South Carolina, with her true love, Brian, and their three children.

Catch Up With Lynn Blackburn:

LynnHBlackburn.com Subscribe to Lynn’s Newsletter Amazon Author Profile Goodreads – @lynnhugginsblackburn BookBub – @LynnHBlackburn Instagram – @LynnHBlackburn X – @LynnHBlackburn Facebook – @LynnHBlackburn Pinterest – @LynnHBlackburn

Ā 

.
Tour Participants:

Click through the other tour stops for can’t-miss reviews, insider interviews, exclusive guest posts, and more chances to win! Click here to view the Tour Schedule Ā 

 

Don’t Be the Last to Fall for This Giveaway!
This giveaway is hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Lynn H. Blackburn and Revell. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

.

LAST TO FALL by Lynn H. Blackburn Can’t see the giveaway? Click Here!

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

Arcanum: In the Temple Shadows

By Kelly O’Hearn

 

(Arcanum, #1)
Publication date: May 20th 2024
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Arcanum: In the Temple Shadows is Book One in a series of novels channeled through the tarot cards by noted intuitive Kelly O’Hearn—the first of its kind!

In this sexy past life romance, sometimes happily ever after takes more than one lifetime. Meet Sarah Fuller. It’s her 40th birthday and things are starting to get weird. Is it deja vu? A midlife crisis? Nervous breakdown? Who is this dark, handsome stranger she feels like she’s met before? Not on Fifth Avenue or through her luxury fragrance company but, like, many lifetimes ago?

Her husband, her best friend, her shrink: everyone seems to think they know what’s best for her these days. Sarah’s always been a skeptic, but when she meets this intriguing psychic who tells her she might have been a Pharaoh’s lover and powerful mystic in ancient Egypt, thousands of years ago, it feels so right that she’s determined to find out more.

ā€œI was given early access to the manuscript of Arcanum, and I was immediately immersed in this unique and sassy book! It’s like Carrie Bradshaw meets Cleopatra. The tension and drama between the characters was enthralling, both in their current lives and their past lives. I can’t wait for the second book in the series!ā€ K. Lewis

 

Arcanum: Whispers In The Forest

By Kelly O’Hearn

 

(Arcanum, #2)
Publication date: May 13th 2025
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

From noted intuitive channeler Kelly O’Hearn comes the spellbinding second installment in the critically acclaimed Arcanum series—a mesmerizing blend of romance, reincarnation, and sensual awakening that spans across centuries.

When Manhattan parfumier Sarah Fuller abandons her picture-perfect life to pursue an obsession with an ancient rose in the South of France, she never expects to unearth secrets buried for centuries. What begins as a professional quest quickly transforms into a soul-stirring journey, cosmically interwoven with that of a medieval maiden with mysterious powers.

As her marriage crumbles and her closest friendship fractures, Sarah’s carefully constructed reality begins to unravel. Between the gleaming penthouses of New York and the sun-drenched fields of Provence, she discovers that the fragrance she seeks may be the key to unlocking a past life—and a love that has endured across time itself.

But some secrets are meant to stay buried, and as Sarah delves deeper into her past, she must decide: Will she heed the whispers that call to her from the forest, or will she lose herself to them completely?

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

All of a sudden she felt an invisible ripple along her spine, a jolt of something. Her eyes flew open, and she saw a man standing about five feet in front of her.

ā€œHoly shit,ā€ she blurted. ā€œI didn’t realize anyone else was here.ā€

ā€œOther than the two hundred people hobnobbing in the Temple of Dendur?ā€

ā€œYeah, other than those jerks.ā€

His smile was a knockout. If she weren’t happily married…scratch that. Tall, dark, probably of Middle Eastern descent? Gorgeous tux. Crooked smile. She’d have to be dead not to find him…attractive.

That was one word for it. Hot-as-fuck might be another.

ā€œHarry Aiken.ā€ He held out his hand.

Was her mouth agape? Sarah settled herself. ā€œOf course you areā€¦ā€

She took his hand in hers, and the two of them stood there for way too long. Maybe it was only a second or two, but she felt—well, she felt everything. The power of his grip, the warmth of his skin, the clean smell of him, the slight bristle of the hairs on the back of his hand, his eyes—but beyond all of those sensory, well, pleasures, really, she felt like he was definitely part of whatever gut-roiling recalibration or transformation was going on inside her today. He was somehow in on it.

She released his hand and backed away a step, as if he had burned her.

Or could.

And then she started breathing again.

ā€œWeird day.ā€ She shook her head and started walking slowly around the atrium.

ā€œDo you want to be alone?ā€ he asked.

ā€œNot necessarily. I just didn’t want to be in a room with hundreds of people.ā€

Harry put his hands in his pockets and walked alongside her. ā€œSame. I left right before the guest of honor arrived. Just all a bit too much for me, you know.ā€

Sarah realized his clean, buttoned-up smell was just a top note. Sandalwood, tobacco, myrrh: this man was into expensive fragrance of some sort or another, and their heat had brought it to life. A deep, masculine scent. Her mortal weakness.

ā€œYou’ve never met her?ā€

ā€œNo. I’m not really even sure why I’m here. I met this hilarious guy named Maxā€”ā€

She couldn’t help smiling. ā€œYeah, I know him.ā€

ā€œRight? I met him last week. Turns out he’s best friends with the CEO of this company I do business with whom I’ve been trying to meet for years. She’s got a firewall of assistants around her. Max is a great guy and all, but he was like, ā€˜You should totally come meet Sarah and learn more about her new foundation, yadda yadda…’ and I was like, ā€˜Great, I’d really appreciate the introduction.’ and then he’s like, ā€˜I got you on the list to her surprise party Saturday night’ and I’m like, ā€˜Well, that’s a little weird to show up at someone’s fortieth birthday party uninvited, if I’ve never even met them, don’t you think?’ But he’s kind of persuasive and funny, and it all seemed like a good idea last week. But now I’m just like a fish out of water…and now I’m babblingā€”ā€

When he turned to face her, their eyes caught again, and held, like they had when they’d shaken hands. ā€œI’m not usually nervous, but you’ve caught me off guard,ā€ he said.

Sarah just gave herself permission to stare at him. Why not? It was her birthday, wasn’t it? And maybe he was her gift. Her lip must have lifted slightly on one side when she thought that, because his glance darted to her mouth and his pupils dilated.

Then, as if realizing that what he was doing could be construed as creepy, his eyes flew back up to hers.

Her smile widened.

You can look at my mouth anytime you like, she almost said—but caught herself before she did something…regrettable.

ā€œSo, is this going to be like some Cinderella story?ā€ he asked, his voice deeper, stronger, if that was even possible. ā€œAre you going to introduce yourself, or am I going to have to enlist the cavalry and ride my steed throughout the kingdom tomorrow to find out your true identity?ā€

Harry Aiken on horseback, commanding an army. Wheeling his horse around with perfect control. Mastery. Smoke and leather and the clang of ancient weapons and still, always, his eyes on her, always on her. Tracking her, minding her, loving her.

ā€œI could see that,ā€ she whispered, then turned to walk back toward the party. ā€œI guess it is a bit of a Cinderella story,ā€ she continued, forcing her voice to take on a more carefree tone. ā€œBecause I’ll definitely turn into a pumpkin if I don’t get back to hobnobbing.ā€

.

 

About Author Kelly O’Hearn:

When Kelly O’Hearn first stepped off the train in the city of Florence, Italy, as a 20-year-old, she had the overwhelming instinct that she had been there before. In a place famous for its maze of medieval streets, O’Hearn navigated the city as if she had lived there for a lifetime. Born in New York City, O’Hearn first put her intuitive skills to work as a professional wine taster, instructor, and sommelier in the elite institutions of New York, Portugal, and Aspen. After raising her two children and enduring a personal health crisis, in 2012, she was drawn to begin reading the tarot cards, an ancient practice which does not presume to ā€œpredict the futureā€ but offers a collection of stories, perspectives, and self-reflections that can guide one to become one’s most authentic self. O’Hearn is in high demand for her readings, with clients on every continent but Antartica. While most people were baking sourdough or riding their Pelotons during the Covid pandemic, O’Hearn used the tarot cards to channel her own past lives. Weeks of readings, all captured on video, yielded six storylines of herself as several powerful women over the millennia and around the globe: the same one soul, over time, persevering against all odds in the quest for happiness and the love of a soul mate. This time-bending saga inspired O’Hearn to conceive of a series of novels titled Arcanum. Book One: In the Temple Shadows is available now. Book Two: Whispers in the Forest will be released Spring of 2025.

Website / Facebook / Instagram / TikTok

.

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

.

Arcanum Books 1 & 2 Blitz

.

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

.

Fried Chicken CastaƱeda
by Suzanne Stauffer

FRIED CHICKEN CASTANEDA COVER 3
Fried Chicken CastaƱeda
Historical Culinary Cozy Mystery
1st in Series
Setting – Las Vegas, New Mexico, in June 1929
Publisher ā€ : ā€Ž Artemesia Publishing, LLC
Publication date ā€ : ā€Ž May 6, 2025
Print length ā€ : ā€Ž 228 pages
Paperback
ISBN-10 ā€ : ā€Ž 1963832051
ISBN-13 ā€ : ā€Ž 978-1963832051
Digital
ISBN-13 ā€ : ā€Ž 978-1963832242
ASIN ā€ : ā€Ž B0DZC47WJQ

.
goodreads badge

At the CastaƱeda Hotel you’ll find romance, gourmet dining, bootleggers, and murder!

Bored with her conventional middle-class life, Prudence Bates escapes Cleveland by heading west to qualify as a Courier for the Southwestern Indian Detours. On the California Limited she meets Jerry Begay, a charming Navajo school teacher. They feel an instant rapport, but he’s headed for Gallup, so it’s but a brief encounter.

In Las Vegas, New Mexico Prudence is befriended by CastaƱeda Hotel Harvey Girls Martha and Anne and desk clerk Clara. They take Prudence under their wing and invite her along to dances and the local hot springs.

Four days later, Martha’s brother, Tom, is found murdered. Was it because of his bootlegging activities? Or his amorous relationship with Liz Kearney, daughter of the richest man in the area and rumored mob boss? And was that really Jerry Begay whom Prudence saw meeting with Tom in secret the day before he was killed?

Following in the footsteps of her favorite fictional detectives, Tommy and Tuppence, Prudence is determined to solve the murder. But one wrong step and she may end up in the sights of the bootleggers.

,

About Author Suzanne StaufferĀ 

After 20 years as a librarian and 20 as a professor of library science and library historian, Suzanne Stauffer has moved on to a third career as a mystery novelist. She currently lives in Albuquerque with her Australian husband and brown and white spotted rat terrier dogter, Treme. Her debut novel,  Fried Chicken Castañeda (Artemesia Publishing, May 2025), won the CIPA EVVY Bronze Medal in Mystery/Crime/Detection and the New Mexico Book Award for Cozy Mystery.

Author Links: Blog / Facebook / Substack

Purchase Links:Ā  Ā PublisherĀ  Ā  Ā Amazon Ā  Ā  B&NĀ  Ā  Ā  Ā Bookshop.org

~~~~~

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

.

.

~~~~~

TOUR PARTICIPANTS

March 2 – deal sharing aunt – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

March 2 – Maureen’s Musings – SPOTLIGHT

March 3 – Jody’s Bookish Haven – SPOTLIGHT

March 4 – Socrates Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

March 4 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

March 5 – Sarandipity’s – CHARACTER INTERVIEW

March 5 – Books1987 – SPOTLIGHT

March 6 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT

March 7 – MJB Reviewers – SPOTLIGHT

March 8 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

March 8 – Guatemala Paula Loves to Read – AUTHOR GUEST POST

March 9 – Christy’s Cozy Corners – CHARACTER GUEST POST

March 10 – Sarah Can’t Stop Reading Books – REVIEW

March 11 – Ascroft, eh? – AUTHOR GUEST POST

March 12 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – REVIEW, RECIPE Ā 

March 13 – Elizabeth McKenna – Author – SPOTLIGHT

March 13 – StoreyBook Reviews – CHARACTER GUEST POST

March 14 – fundinmental – SPOTLIGHT

March 15 – Boys’ Mom Reads! – REVIEW

March 15 – Cozy Up With Kathy – REVIEW, AUTHOR INTERVIEW

.

great escapes virtual book tours logo

.

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

The Memories We Made: Remembering Us: Part I of II

By Cara Dee

 

 

(The Game Series, #16)
Publication date: March 6th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance

The Game Series, #16 • Standalone • Duet • Book 1 of 2 • Hurt/Comfort • Family • Dom/Dom • Opposites Attract
Ash and Nathan’s story begins on a blistering day in Philadelphia, with a rough-around-the-edges scaffolder yelling outside the office of a trauma specialist. Psychology major Nate decides to give this brute a piece of his mind.

The friends who told me to move on didn’t have a clue what they were talking about. Moving on wasn’t happening—and I knew that better than anyone after being trapped at the bottom of a heartbreak for an excruciating year now, where I had nothing but crippling anxiety and our memories to torture me. Everything we’d built, the family we’d created, the pictures, that damn National Parks passport, the ring on my finger, echoes of laughter and promises… I’d been there, watching you, being your test subject, as you’d become the rope rigger you were today. With amusement glinting in your eyes, you’d called me the OG bondage bunny. Me, the primal predator, who thought about chasing brats through the woods, your bondage bunny.
We’d given each other laugh lines. We’d loved so damn hard. We’d stood in front of our friends and family and vowed to fight for us forever.

Almost twenty years together. Four beautiful children.

What the hell happened, Nate?

You didn’t have to tell me. I already knew. I was a coward. I’d let my fears hold us back.

The question now was if I still stood a chance, because…frankly, living without you was impossible.

I’d do anything to get you back.

The Game Series is a BDSM series where romance meets the reality of kink. Sometimes we fall for someone we don’t match with, sometimes vanilla business gets in the way of kinky pleasure, and sometimes we have to compromise and push ourselves to overcome trauma and insecurities. No matter what, one thing is certain. This is not a perfect world—and maybe that’s why the happily ever after feels so good.

Goodreads / Purchase

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

If his boss got off work at five PM, the yuppie should work similar hours, right?

I checked my watch and then squinted up at the building.

Five minutes past five.

A breath gusted out of me, and I ran a hand through my hair.

This was stupid. I should just head home, get out of my work clothes, and take a long shower.

And yet…I couldn’t shake the urge to smooth things over with the yuppie. In all the chaos earlier, and the damn heat, I’d misinterpreted what Garcia had said. Now I could recall his saying that several people had complained about the noise, and I’d applied it all to this suit guy. But all he’d mentioned was my creative use of words. He hadn’t technically bitched about the noise.

Hold up, is that him?

I held up a hand to shield my eyes from the late-afternoon sun, and I zeroed in on the guy coming out from the building.

It was him. He had put on his messenger bag, and he had a bike helmet in one hand.

Totally fit my impression of him. Yuppie on a bicycle.

I cleared my throat and trailed closer as he aimed for the row of bikes next to the stairs.

ā€œOi. Glasses.ā€ I figured it was a better nickname than Yuppie.

Hey, it worked.

He threw a frown over his shoulder.

I gestured at myself. ā€œThe paste-eater from earlier.ā€

The frown faded, but he definitely nailed the standoffish vibe. ā€œNow I remember.ā€

Okay, he had the biting, dry sense of humor down.

ā€œI cut the goddammits and motherfuckers to a minimum after our productive chat,ā€ I offered.

He unlocked his bike and stuffed the chain into his messenger bag. ā€œMy boss mentioned an improvement.ā€ He side-eyed me. ā€œDid you just get off work?ā€

ā€œHalf an hour ago,ā€ I replied. ā€œIt’s possible I felt bad for how I acted earlier, so I decided to see if you were on your way out too.ā€

ā€œI am. After a lovely day here, I’m looking forward to my evening shift at a hotel in Center City,ā€ he drawled.

Oh damn. ā€œThat blows. I’m sorry about today, man. I won’t piss you off tomorrow, I promise.ā€

ā€œAre you sure? You seem to have a knack for it.ā€ He put on his helmet. Then he sighed and pulled out his bike. ā€œMaybe I could’ve handled things better too.ā€

I smiled. ā€œWater under the bridge.ā€

Except, now I kinda wanted this little meeting to run longer. He really was hot, and considering he’d checked me out before, it didn’t seem unlikely he was gay. A guy had to give it a go, didn’t he? My weekend was open.

ā€œSo, uh…do you have enough time to get something to eat before work?ā€ I asked. ā€œThere’s a place down the street. They water down anything alcoholic, but their chips and guacamole are out of this world.ā€

He knitted his brows together. ā€œYou wanna spend happy hour with me?ā€

I’d prefer a date, but we could call it happy hour between two strangers.

ā€œOf course.ā€ I shrugged. ā€œI obviously want a moment to explain myself. I didn’t fucking eat paste as a kid. I ate crayons.ā€

Fuck yeah, he actually smiled. ā€œOkay. Happy hour sounds good.ā€

Fucking A.

.

About Author Cara Dee:

Romance Across the Spectrum.

I’m often awkwardly silent or, if the topic interests me, a chronic rambler. In other words, I can discuss writing forever and ever. Fiction, in particular. The love story—while a huge draw and constantly present—is secondary for me, because there’s so much more to writing romance fiction than just making two (or more) people fall in love and have hot sex.

There’s a world to build, characters to develop, interests to create, and a topic or two to research thoroughly.

Every book is a challenge for me, an opportunity to learn something new, and a puzzle to piece together. I want my characters to come to life, and the only way I know to do that is to give them substance—passions, history, goals, quirks, and strong opinions—and to let them evolve.

I want my men and women to be relatable. That means allowing room for everyday problems and, for lack of a better word, flaws. My characters will never be perfect.

Wait…this was supposed to be about me, not my writing.

I’m a writey person who loves to write. Always wanderlusting, twitterpating, kinking, cooking, baking, and geeking. There’s time for hockey and family, too. But mostly, I just love to write.

~Cara.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Newsletter

.

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

.
The Memories We Made Blitz

.

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

.

Dive into a different world, where nature and friendship are
full of surprises.

.

,

Living at the Edge of the World – Winter

The Papala Island Adventure Series Book 1

written by S. J. Barratt

narrated by Gill Mills

Genre: Middle Grade Eco Adventure

Twins Tabitha and Timothy leave London for a wild Shetland
island — no Wi-Fi, no friends, and a mysterious great-uncle. In Papala, they
discover a new way of life, unexpected friendships, and courage they never knew
they had.

A fun, eco-conscious story for ages 9–12 that the whole
family will love.

When their parents sail the world without them, 12-year-old
twins Tabitha and Timothy are sent to the remote island of Papala, known as the
“Bird Island.” Great Uncle Tamhas becomes their guardian in a world
as strange as the island itself.

Tabitha is frustrated with the island’s isolation and
limited Wi-Fi, but Timothy is delighted to uncover the island’s natural
secrets. The twins soon realise however, they are not the only newcomers to the
island.

Discover a story about courage, friendship and the joy of
embracing the unfamiliar. Dive into a different world, where nature and
friendship are full of surprises.

You’ll love this story of courage and friendship. Buy now
before the price changes!

Check out: https: //www.sjbstories.com to know more!

Get it in Audiobook!

Audible * Amazon ebook * AppleĀ * KoboĀ * BookbubĀ * Goodreads

,

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

 

ā€œLiving at the Edge of the World – Winter, the first audiobook in my Shetland island series, was inspired by my own outdoor childhood and by a desire to encourage today’s children to look up from their screens and rediscover adventure outside.ā€

I’m a British children’s author and I grew up with mud on my boots, dogs at my heels, and a book never far from reach. Raised in leafy green, Hertfordshire (North East direction from London) my childhood was split between outdoor adventure – riding ponies, building camps in the woods, cycling with friends – and disappearing into stories. Shy and introverted, I was happiest reading, often forming friendships around books, including quiet ā€œreading clubsā€ where we sat together in companionable silence for hours at a time! As a teenager, reviewing books for my local library felt like a natural next step. Although I briefly considered journalism as a career, the fast pace and relentless deadlines didn’t seem to leave much room for reflection or empathy. I then trained as an actor, which was invaluable for learning how to analyse characters and bring them to life, skills that continue to shape my writing. I loved exploring the depth of roles, but I soon realized that the constant focus on self-promotion and performance wasn’t the right fit for me. Life then led me to France, where I’ve spent many years in corporate communications for agriculture and sustainable development—storytelling with purpose, in a quieter kind of spotlight.

Becoming a writer began as a personal writing project while I was recovering from an operation. I knew I wanted to write for children, inspired by the contrast between my own outdoor upbringing and how much time children today spend indoors, absorbed by screens.

I immersed myself in research and went in search of the perfect agricultural setting, eventually discovering the island of Foula, home to just thirty people who live closely with the land, sea, and animals in Shetland, Scotland. It felt like the ideal place to begin. From there, the real learning started, and the stories grew. Today, my writing aims to offer young readers and listeners a sense of freedom, resilience, and curiosity, while gently encouraging a healthier balance between the digital world and the natural one.

  1. What is something unique/quirky about you?Ā 

Having two nationalities (Born in Pasadena, USA but to British parents) and living today in France, which adds a third culture, means I’ve never fully felt I belong in one place. That outsider perspective has become a strength in my writing, helping me create characters who are finding their footing in unfamiliar worlds and helping readers accept diversity and cultural differences.

  1. When did you first consider yourself a writer?Ā 

I first considered myself a writer the moment my work was recognized beyond my own desk, earning its first placing in a writing competition. That turning point came in 2024, when my book received aĀ Silver Medal at BookFestĀ in theĀ Children’s – Diversity & Multi-culturalĀ category. Soon after, it was awarded aĀ Bronze Medal at the Global Book Awards 2024Ā forĀ Children’s – Geography & Culture, and in 2025 it became a *Finalist in the Children’s Book Excellence Awards. Those moments shifted my writing from a ā€œprojectā€, to becoming part of my identity as a ā€œwriterā€.

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

I can easily imagineĀ Living at the Edge of the World – WinterĀ and the second book,Ā SpringĀ coming alive on screen, ideally not just as films, but as a gentle, episodic series for middle-grade children aged 9–12. The world of Papala, and the adventures of Tabitha and Timothy, lend themselves naturally to visual storytelling: the changing seasons, the closeness to nature, the quiet bravery of everyday exploration.

What excites me most, though, isn’t the idea of children sitting and watching for long stretches. I would only want a film or series if it actively encouraged them to step away from the screen afterward. Each episode could feel like an invitation. Prompting children to go outside, build a small camp in the woods, invent their own adventures, or take their dog for a walk and really notice the world around them.

  1. What literary pilgrimages have you gone on?

In October 2023 my son and I traveled to Shetland to hunt for the aurora borealis. We explored the mainland and the islands of Yell and Unst, hoping to see the northern lights. We weren’t lucky enough to catch the ā€œpretty dancers,ā€ as they call them in Shetland, but every day brought something beautiful – sunsets, rainbows, and interesting cloud formations. Watching otters play along the coast in Yell or climbing into a Viking boat on Unst was a joy in itself, and a reminder of how travel can spark creativity.

Last year I travelled to Sri Lanka to an Ayurveda retreat. It was a simple, focused holiday: time to care for my health, relax, and edit my third book. Having space to work on my writing while being somewhere special was such a gift to myself.

Both trips reminded me of the joy of discovering new places and the value of taking time for yourself. Whether exploring remote islands or spending quiet days writing, travel and new places can provide a space to refresh, reflect, and find inspiration.

  1. Tell us about your main characters- what makes them tick?Ā 

One of the things I love most about writing this book series is exploring the dynamic between the twins, Tabitha and Timothy. They are so alike in some ways, yet completely different in others, and that contrast drives much of the story.

Tabitha is all about online validation and influencer dreams. She’s deeply connected to the world through screens and social media, and her character reflects the pull of that digital life. Timothy, on the other hand, ā€œWiki-Timā€, is grounded in curiosity and a love of nature. His fascination with facts and the natural world lets me bring in real-life information about the island and its wildlife without it feeling forced. This dynamic mirrors something I value personally: while I enjoy engaging with my online community, nothing restores the soul quite like a walk in nature.

The twins’ contrasting perspectives also highlight one of the broader themes of the book: adapting to new environments and finding joy in unexpected places. Timothy, with his naturalist mindset, adjusts easily to the remote island life. Tabitha, initially frustrated by the isolation, gradually discovers a niche that allows her to combine her love for social media with the adventure and discoveries the island offers. It’s a journey about embracing change, connecting with the world around you, and finding balance between digital and real-life experiences.

Through these characters, I wanted to show that even when two people, or twins, are very different, mutual respect, curiosity, and openness can lead to growth, adventure, and unexpected joy.

  1. Who designed your book covers?Ā 

The book covers and all the illustrations forĀ Living at the Edge of the World – WinterĀ were created by the incredibly talented young illustrator Jenny Nutbourne, who lives and works in Scotland.Ā https://www.tiktok.com/@nutbourne_Ā Our connection came through Dundee University, where my son did his degree.

I’m a very visual person, and for me, images are an essential part of the creative process. When I start a project, I often look for pictures that capture the essence of my characters or the world they inhabit. Working with Jenny brought these images to life, enhancing the storytelling in ways that words alone sometimes have limitations. Her illustrations not only complement the text but also provide inspiration and a visual anchor for the story, making the world I’ve written about feel even more real. Working with Jenny is also a a reason why I went the self-publishing route as an author as I wanted full creative control.

  1. Did you learn anything during the writing of your recent book?Ā 

One of the biggest challenges in writing my recent book was making sure the children truly drove the story. I wanted the kids to take center stage, shaping the action, while the adults remained in the background, present enough to make the world feel realistic, but never so much that they overshadowed the young characters.

For the main antagonist, Tabitha, I started her as a spoiled, unhappy girl, frustrated at being stuck in Papala, a remote island in Shetland, far from trendy London. In the first book, her character arc showed her learning to adapt to this rugged new life. The second book pushes that growth even further, while also giving her brother, Timothy, a chance to shine. The third book, which hopefully will be published later this year, explores Tabitha’s character even more, teaching her not to rush to act but to speak up with thoughtful action.

Beyond the twins, there are two other key young characters: Fenella, a local girl who offers insight and guidance, and Omar, a newly arrived refugee who immediately connects with the island’s wildlife. Each brings a unique perspective, but the core challenge remains: how to let the children have their own adventures in a believable way.

I drew inspiration from authors like Enid Blyton and Katherine Rundell, who are experts at creating rich, child-led worlds where young characters are fully in charge.

  1. Anything specific you want to tell your readers?Ā 

Yes! I want readers to know that even though my books have an eco-fiction theme and encourage your children, grandchildren, or students to spend more ā€œgreen timeā€ rather than screen time, the stories are far from dull. They’re modern, full of fun, and packed with adventure.

A recent reviewer described how she and her son ā€œlearned by stealthā€ while reading about the twins, Tabitha and Timothy. They were so caught up in what would happen next in the story, they absorbed all kinds of fascinating facts about Shetland’s wildlife and flora without even noticing!

I also hope readers gain a better understanding of how farming can work in harmony with nature. Agro-ecology is all about balance, which is especially important in crofting in Scotland, where every bit of land matters. The books show that adventure, learning, and environmental awareness can go hand in hand.

  1. How did you come up with the name of this book?Ā 

The inspiration came from reading about the Shetland island of Foula, which I found utterly fascinating. It’s one of the most remote islands in the archipelago, home to just 30 people, and is also famously known as the ā€œBird Island.ā€ The island’s wild, rugged beauty and sense of isolation perfectly captured the atmosphere I wanted for the book, and it is known as the ā€œEnd of the Worldā€. This name seemed to fit naturally with the story, even if I based the series on an imaginary island called Papala.

  1. If you could spend time with a character from your book, who would it be? And what would you do during that day?Ā 

I’d love to spend a day with Great Uncle Tamhas, who looks after the twins for three months while their parents are away on a world cruise. I can imagine a day on his croft, helping him with the kale planting, fishing for trout in the stream, and even cutting peat to keep the fires burning.

After a day of hard work, I’d sit down to one of his farmhouse meals, starting with a bowl ofĀ soupĀ and fresh homemade bread, followed by his famous mutton stew. There’s something so comforting about the rhythm of croft life, and I can’t think of a better way to spend a day immersed in the island’s traditions, landscape, and food.

 

  1. Convince us why you feel your book is a must read.Ā 

I wrote this book because I wanted to inspire kids to step away from screens and rediscover the joy of the world around them. In a time when phones and tablets seem to rule, my story invites young readers to see that adventure isn’t just something on a screen. Adventure is out there waiting for children in the woods, along a bike path, or even in their own backyard. Through fun, imaginative stories, my book gives kids agency, the exciting knowledge thatĀ theyĀ can create their own adventures, whether it’s just riding their bike, or exploring with their dog. It’s not just a story; it’s an invitation to play, explore, and connect with nature in a way that will stay with them long after the last page is turned.

A review from Australia said recently:Ā ā€œBooks like this are still very important. It should be on every family’s book shelves. Not only will these storiesĀ  encourage kids to become readers, Living at the Edge of the World – Winter & Spring help kids learn and realise that living without their phones is also an adventure.ā€

  1. Have you written any other books that are not published?Ā 

Yes! I’m currently working on the third book in this series: Living at the Edge of the World – Summer, which is shaping up to be an exciting mix of myth and environmental awareness. It follows the same team of characters, alongside selkies – mythical seals that shed their skins to become human on land. Through their story, I explore marine pollution and the importance of protecting our oceans as well as our livelihoods. The selkies act as a symbol of care and responsibility, showing young readers how thoughtful, deliberate actions, rather than rash decisions, can make a real difference. It’s a story full of wonder, adventure, and inspiration, encouraging kids to engage with the world around them and how small voices can make big waves when you speak up for what matters.

  1. If your book had a candle, what scent would it be?

I love this question!Ā  It reminds me of the book – The Storm Keeper’s island by Catherine Doyle, where a different candle was needed for each episode of time travel. If my books were a candle, the scent would shift with the seasons: Winter would be peat fires, the comforting aroma of home-cooked soup, bread and bannocks. Spring would carry sea salt spray and the fresh scent of rain on green grass full of spring flowers. Summer would smell of warm earth, sun-dried fields, berries and rhubarb and the intoxicating smell of outdoor adventures. Autumn? The tang of wind off the waves, hints of the first peat fires and root vegetables roasting in the oven… and a book that is not written yet!

Audiobook Questions:

  1. What made you decide to get the book made into an audiobook?

I realised that so many people are busy and don’t always have time to sit down and read, and having studied acting myself, I know how much a good narrator can bring a story to life – just as an illustrator does for a printed book. So creating an audiobook felt like a natural and complementary way to share my stories. Also a great way for a family to share the story during a road trip!

https://canopyaudiobooks.com/

  1. Who did the narration on the audiobook and what made you choose them?

When it came to choosing the narrator, I was lucky to find Gill Mills at Canopybooks. Gill is the owner of the company and auditioned for the narration alongside other actresses who could narrate with a light Scottish accent. From the start, it was clear she was the perfect fit. She threw herself into the work, shutting herself away for days at a time to ensure the voices of each character stayed consistent. Every character has their own unique intonation and accent, and she brings them all vividly to life.

Because I’m a trained actor, the idea of narrating the audiobook did cross my mind, but I quickly realised I wouldn’t even come close to her ankles, let alone fill her shoes! I feel incredibly fortunate to have found Gill and Canopybooks. I honestly cannot recommend them highly enough to authors considering an audiobook. Gill will bring your stories to life in a way that is truly magical at a very reasonable price.

  1. How many audiobooks do you currently have and are there any more on the horizon?

I have two audiobooks published: Living at the Edge of the World – Winter & Spring and when the third book is published, I will of course ask Gill if she wants to narrate the third!Ā  I just hope she will say, ā€œYes! I would like another trip to the island of Papala!ā€

  1. Do you have a favorite scene from the audiobook? What makes it special?

The final chapter is definitely my favorite. It’s where the themes of courage, friendship, and embracing the unfamiliar come together in a thrilling way. The three children face a pivotal moment that tests their bravery. Tabitha, the protagonist, takes a bold risk that puts herself and her brother and friend Fenella in real danger.

I don’t want to give too much away, but I will say this: there are Vikings involved… and a burning viking boat! It’s a scene full of tension, teamwork, and adventure, and it perfectly captures the heart of the story. It also reflects my own belief that true friendship and courage often shine brightest when we step into the unknown and we accept cultural differences.

,
,

S. J. Barratt is a self-published, professionally edited
children’s author whose eco-themed stories celebrate the connection between
people and the natural world. Rooted in an English countryside upbringing and
shaped by a career in agriculture, she blends a gardener’s curiosity with a
storyteller’s warmth to her writing. Now based in Lyon, France, Suzanne creates
tales that inspire middle-grade readers to swap screen time for green time—and
rediscover the wonders waiting just outside their door.

Website * Facebook *Instagram * TikTok * Bookbub * Goodreads

.

.

A former BBC broadcaster and journalist, Gill Mills brings
over 20 years of experience in entertainment to her narration. Known for her
warm, resonant voice, she began her voice career while DJing on BBC Radio 1 and
has since voiced numerous TV and audio productions. She now runs a content
company specialising in podcast and film production from her studio in East
London.

LinkedIn* Instagram

.

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

.


Enter the Living at the Edge of the World – Winter Giveaway Here

.

.

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

.

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for By Chance organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author D. Taylor will be awarding a $10 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.

.

By Chance

By D. Taylor

 

 

Genre: Historical Romance

Synopsis

Charlotte Douglas has spent far too long trying to stitch her life back together after a single betrayal shattered her place in the community that once adored her. With every polite nod and measured smile, she shoulders the same whispered story: she is not the young lady she ought to be — and certainly not the kind any respectable man would escort into a ballroom.

Then a flat tire on a warm afternoon brings Elias Navarro to her gate.

A hardworking mechanic with steady hands and a restless heart, Elias has lived safely, sensibly, and without surprise. Until Charlotte. With her quiet fire, careful poise, and eyes that dare him to look closer, she becomes the first woman in years to make him want more than the life he knows.

What begins as a returned plate and a shared cup of coffee becomes something neither expected: late-afternoon walks, borrowed laughter, the charge of almost-kisses, and the slow, undeniable pull toward something tender.

But Charlotte’s past is a room full of watching eyes—and the Winter SoirĆ©e is coming.

When Charlotte hesitates to invite Elias, terrified he will judge the truth she’s never said aloud, he mistakes her quiet fear for rejection. And when cruel words at the ball turn her reputation into spectacle, Elias steps into the fray without hesitation—proving himself steady, fierce, and nothing like the man who once broke her heart.

What follows is a reckoning of truths:
her fear of being unworthy,
his fear of not belonging in her world,
and the choice they must face—
whether love found by chance can become love fought for on purpose.

 

Enjoy this peek inside:

Charlotte shouldn’t have taken the car—not with the sun already dipping low behind the rooftops, not with rush hour thickening, and certainly not in that dress.

By morning, the dread had rotted into something uglier. Louder. She couldn’t sit with it anymore.

So she took her father’s automobile keys and drove—south past the quiet boulevards and polished shopfronts her mother preferred, into a stretch of narrow blocks where everyone knew your name and no one asked questions. An hour later, she left with her long curls on the floor and tight ringlets pinned close to her scalp, neck bare, shame and freedom crawling the same path down her spine. The gold flapper dress shimmered when she moved—too beaded, too clingy, and entirely deliberate.

If they were going to whisper, let them whisper for something new.

The light shifted—amber, then rose-gold. She should have turned back.

She didn’t.

A delivery truck pulled too wide at the corner. She swerved—too fast, too sharp—and the front tire struck something jagged. The pop split the air, sharp and final. The car shuddered, then sagged, boneless as a broken doll.

Charlotte’s hands clung to the wheel. Her chest cinched. Heat pressed behind her eyes.

ā€œOh, isn’t this the bee’s knees,ā€ she said thinly. ā€œJust grand.ā€

She stumbled out, skirt snagging, heel catching, dignity unraveling by degrees. One look at the tire and the world tipped.

Then a voice—low, steady.

ā€œYou alright, miss?ā€

She startled, spine lifting as if she could will herself composed. A man stood nearby—tall, broad-shouldered, sleeves rolled, eyes warm and unguarded. He looked at her like the street had gone quiet.

And she didn’t look away.

.

About Author D. Taylor:

D. Taylor is a passionate storyteller with a love for multicultural romance, adventure, and historical fiction. She independently wrote and toured with her novel Allied Hearts, a compelling romance that explores love, identity, and the strength of human connection.

Beyond writing, D. Taylor is a devoted wife of 18 years and a loving mother who cherishes time with her children. She finds joy in cooking, creating delicious meals that bring her family together. When she’s not writing or in the kitchen, she enjoys researching history, discovering new cultures, and embracing the ever-changing world of storytelling.

D. Taylor believes that every story has the power to transport, transform, and inspire. Her work celebrates strong heroines, captivating heroes, and the resilience of love in all its forms.

Find out more and get bonus book material or join her mailing list.

Website / Amazon / Facebook

By Chance / Reckless / Allied Hearts / Rescued

.

~~~~~

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

.

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.