Archive for July, 2023

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The lighter side of the other side!

From sly humour to laugh out loud funny, Drunk Slutty Elf is a hilarious collection of stories in the styles of masters such as Terry Pratchett, Frederick Brown and David Barry.

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Drunk Slutty Elf and Other Stories

Drunk Elves and More Book 1

by D.G. Valdron

Genre: Funny Fantasy, Wacky SciFi, Horror Comedy

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The lighter side of the other side! Drunk Slutty Elf and Other Stories is a collection of humorous short stories of fantasy, horror and science fiction. In Drunk Slutty Elf, a drunken elf thief hooks up with a gray space alien searching for pieces of his spaceship; Djewel and Djinn features the Elf and Alien in the realm of Arabian nights. In Romance of the Undead; a vampire is pursued by his over-enthusiastic fans. Somewhere in The Monkey Sea, an infinite number of monkeys at typewriters plots rebellion. Lovecraft is parodied in Furry Tentacles of Menace ghost hunters confront hamsters from beyond time and space.; The Princess So Sweet and Fair gives us fairy tales gone horribly wrong, a wicked witch taking an unwanted job seriously and a kingdom overrun by frogs. Stone Blockage; ancient astronauts arrive and want us to build pyramids the old fashioned way. Silver Giant Sexy reveals the truth about Kaiju and the alien giants that fight them. Armageddon When, the antichrist shows up for armageddon and nobody cares. Hard Days Blight gives us a devil that cares too much, and damned souls that don’t care at all. There is Simulaw about the future of litigation, and Courtesy Call about the future of telemarketing, plus many more stories, wicked, subversive and funny. From sly humour to laugh out loud funny, Drunk Slutty Elf is a hilarious collection of stories in the styles of masters such as Terry Pratchett, Frederick Brown and David Barry.

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Salvra, half-Elf, three-fifth’s-Halfling, foursixteenth’s Dwarf, exiled Princess and sixth level thief sidled up to the bar, where she tried to catch the eye of the one-third Orc, but otherwise pretty human bartender, Logo Longlegs.

The bartender gave her a baleful glare, his eyebrow furrowing in disgust.

“Here to clear up your tab?”

“I’m good for it,” Salvra replied nonchalantly.

Longlegs grunted.

“Give me a mug of your best Aelvish Ale,” she said confidently. “I’m a bit hung over, and I need a pick-me-up. On the tab.”

“No.”

“Dwarf Mead then,” she said, “the good stuff!”

“No.”

“Regular Dwarf Mead,” she said.

“No.”

“Beer?”

“No.”

She sighed and gave him a cold look. Something that tried to convey ‘If I weren’t so hung over, I’d pick this place clean.’

It didn’t work.

She sighed and felt through her purse. She thought she’d had more in there. Someone must have picked her pocket while she’d been drunk. She found a lone bent coin. She looked at it in disgust and slapped it on the bar. Longlegs eyed it doubtfully.

“What will this buy me?” she asked.

“A flagon of drunken Orc’s piss,” he said.

She wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic, but she decided to give it a try.

“I’ll take it.”

Longlegs grunted once. Using tongs, he tossed the coin into a small register, then he grabbed a mug and turned his back to her, fiddling with his trousers.

“Is this going to take long?” she said.

“No more than a minute,” he called back to her. Then he sighed deeply, and she heard the hissing sound of the mug being filled. A second later, he turned back to her slapped the mug on the bar in front of her, careful not to spill any of the thick green liquid in it.

She eyed the mug critically. There was a good head of foam on it, which meant it was fresh. And there were things swimming in it. That was a good sign. She grabbed the handle, threw her head back, and quaffed a deep draught, gasping as the foul liquid slid down her throat. There was a moment when the rest of her stomach contents, appalled at this new visitor, tried to escape. But she’d been down this road before, and held her nostrils closed and lips sealed until everything, including her liver, had resigned itself to fate.

“I’m starting to like the taste,” she said conversationally.

Longlegs gave her a long baleful look.

“There’s work for you,” he said.

She made a face.

“I’m a ninth level thief,” she said, “and an exiled princess. I don’t clean outhouses.”

“Not what I meant.”

“Not that either!” she said indignantly.

“No,” Longlegs said. “That guy.”

He pointed.

She looked. In a corner of the bar, a figure was hunched over a table.

“Nah .. .” she said, after a long look. “I don’t hook up with mysterious strangers in a bar, unless they’re paying up front.”

She hesitated.

“That didn’t come out how I meant,” she said apologetically.

He stared blankly at her.

“Oh all right.” She swallowed the rest of her mug with one deep draught, and when she could breathe again, she ignored his horrified expression, and staggered over, plopping herself into the chair.

“I hear you’re looking for a thief–” but her announcement trailed off as she got a good look at the stranger.

The being in front of her was gray. All gray. Its skin was rubbery. Its head was immense with two huge black almond shaped eyes. The rest of its facial features were tiny, the mouth a mere lipless slit, two tiny notches for nostrils. The rest of it was also incongruously off proportion with its head, the chest narrow, the limbs mere sticks, ending in hands with incredibly long spidery fingers. The sight of those fingers gave Salvra shivers. She wondered if other parts of him were as long and spidery.

“What the hell are you?” she asked breathlessly.

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Drunk Slutty Elf and Zombies

Drunk Elves and More Book 2

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The Drunk Slutty Elf returns, in a new misadventure with zombies. Along the way, there are more funny science fiction and fantasy stories, the foibles of satanic goat hunters, apocalyptic teddy bears, barbarians behaving badly, King Kong’s adventure with Dracula, aliens without a clue, the future of telemarketing, crunchy kaiju goodness and a helpful guide to neighborhood monsters. If you liked the previous collection, you’ll love this.

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Excerpt – Dracula meets King Kong

 

SCENE – SKULL ISLAND, THE CHASM WITH THE LOG UPON IT. DRACULA STANDS ON ONE SIDE OF THE CHASM, DRISCOLL AND THE REST OF THE MEN ARE ON THE LOG.

DRACULA – I am afraid, Mister Driscoll, your adventure ends here. This is as far as you go.

DRISCOLL – What are you talking about, Doctor? Anne is still out there.

DRACULA – My name is Dracula, Mister Driscoll. And Anne is no longer your concern. I have business to take care of. I cannot permit you to go further.

DRISCOLL – You were working with the savages! I knew from the start there was something wrong with you. We should never have trusted you. You were probably making us sick.

DRACULA (laughs) – Wisdom comes too late, Mister Driscoll.

DRISCOLL PULLS PISTOL, AND WAVES TO HIS MEN.

DRISCOLL – We’re coming over. And you can’t stop us, Doctor Carfax, or Dracula, whatever your name is. You’re just one man, and we have the guns.

DRISCOLL ADVANCES ACROSS THE LOG, FOLLOWED BY SEVERAL OF THE CREW OF THE VENTURE.

DRACULA – I am not a man, Mister Driscoll, and your guns are nothing to me.

DRACULA SEIZES THE ROOTS OF THE GIANT FALLEN LOG ACROSS THE CHASM, AND TWISTS. THE ENTIRE LOG ROCKS BACK AND FORTH. SOME OF THE MEN FALL OFF. DRISCOLL AND THE OTHERS FALL PRONE, HANGING ONTO THE LOG FOR ALL THEY ARE WORTH.

CUT TO DRACULA’S FACE, SHOWING UNEARTHLY STRAIN AT THESE EXERTIONS.

DRACULA HEAVES THE LOG BACK AND FORTH SHAKING IT MORE AND MORE VIOLENTLY, MORE MEN FALL OFF, BUT A FEW REMAIN CLINGING.

DRACULA – You are persistent, Mister Driscoll, but it will not help you.

WITH A MIGHTY HEAVE, DRACULA COMPLETELY LIFTS ONE END OF THE LOG INTO THE AIR, RAISING IT ABOVE HIS HEAD, AND HURLS IT INTO THE CHASM, THE LOG FALLS, TAKING THE REMAINING MEN WITH IT. AS IT FALLS, DRISCOLL DESPERATELY SEIZES A VINE, SWINGING TO PERILOUS SAFETY.

DRACULA GAZES INTO THE CHASM, A SMILE ON HIS FACE. HE LOOKS DOWN, AND FROWNS.

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D.G. Valdron is a shy and reclusive Canadian writer, living in the wilderness of the Canadian Prairie. Like other shy woodland creatures, deer, bunnies, grizzly bears, he is probably more afraid of you, than you are of him. Probably. A longtime nerd who grew up working at a Drive-In Theatre, he loves exploring interesting and obscure corners of pop culture. A longtime writer of Fantasy, Science Fiction and Horror, his published works include a fantasy/murder mystery novel called The Mermaid’s Tale, the alternate history novel, Axis of Andes, several collections of short stories including Dawn of Cthulhu, Giant Monsters Sing Sad Songs, What Devours Always Hungers and There Are No Doors in Dark Places. He’s also a recognized expert on such obscure subjects as the worlds of Edgar Rice Burroughs, obscure science fiction television series and fan films. Drunk Slutty Elf and its follow up are his foray into the lighter side of the other side.

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The series readers are calling, “Hot, steamy, and deliciously complicated.”

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Echoing Hearts

The Echo Series Book 1

by C.R. Alam

Genre: Contemporary Romance

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From the series readers are calling, “Hot, steamy, and deliciously complicated.”

The harder they resist, the louder their hearts echo each other.

Rae Allen doesn’t believe in the happily-ever-after. After watching her mother deteriorate from a broken heart into a full depression, she vowed never to fall in love. She is living her dream, traveling the world, and getting paid for it. She does not need a man.

Dean Rowland has no complaints. He has a thriving business, more money than he’ll ever need, and supportive family and friends. Even after his fiancée ditched him at the altar, he kept going like nothing had happened. Swearing off women and affairs was his best decision.

One spring afternoon in Georgia, their lives collide. Rae’s first impression of Dean is that he’s hot; her second is he’s an ass. Dean isn’t expecting a sassy redhead trespassing into his property, let alone having to play host to her. Unknown to them, this unexpected weekend is only the beginning that will change their lives forever.

Until Rae’s rockstar best friend, Brandon, comes into the picture, stirring up jealousy and doubt between them. Struggling with unexpected passion, longing, and distrust in this emotional rollercoaster ride, will they recognize and embrace love when being in love is their biggest fear?

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 Echoing Hearts, an enemies-to-lovers billionaire romance.

The annoyance level on the handsome face seemed to elevate instead of dissipating with her every word. Without responding to Rae, he pushed himself off to the other side of the pool. He pulled himself out in one smooth move.

Taken aback by the unwelcoming attitude, Rae could only follow his lithe movements. She got a good look at his swimmer’s lean muscled upper body, a defined stomach that narrowed down to strong-looking hips, and a fine behind. She couldn’t help but appreciate his well-toned long legs in clinging black swimming trunks before he grabbed a large white towel to dry himself off.

Realizing she was gawking, Rae averted her gaze to the sky and tried to fill the silence. “I rang the doorbell several times. When nobody answered, I thought I’d go—”

“Snoop around a private property?” he interrupted without even giving her a glance.

Sensing the quiet hostility in his otherwise intriguingly even voice, Rae was lost for words for a few seconds. The thought that Mrs. Hamilton was lucky to have both a beautiful home and a sexy husband evaporated from her mind.

She didn’t just drive four hours for some man to accuse her of breaking and entering. She took several quick steps to confront him but stopped once he turned to her as if he had some invisible power to freeze her. But he didn’t manage to suppress her rising temper.

“I’ve actually been requested to snoop around this property this weekend.” Rae used her sweet-as-honey voice with a hint of a sting. “Mrs. Hamilton arranged it with Homes magazine. She must’ve forgotten to cc you on the memo.”

This time, he merely raised his eyebrow at her. One eyebrow.

Rae stifled a groan of irritation as she watched him pick up a cellphone and walk away to make a call. She pulled out her own phone and dialed Susan.

“Hi, you’ve reached Susan Adler’s phone. Please leave a message,” the automated reply came on.

“Susan, I’m here at the property, but there’s no Katherine Hamilton to meet me.” Rae hissed into the phone. “Instead, there’s a guy here who looks ready to chop my head off for trespassing. Call me back. Or better yet, please fix this.”

She then tried calling the number for Katherine Hamilton once more. Another voicemail.

Rae sighed and tried to clamp down on her growing frustration. She reminded herself she was good at going with the flow and finding her way out of a jam. It was just a mix-up. Nothing she hadn’t handled before.

But boy, that Mr. Hamilton really got her goat without even trying. She swept her gaze to the lake’s calm surface and took a deep breath. A spring afternoon in the south could get a bit toasty. But after spending her childhood in Minnesota, Rae would savor a sunny warm day in early April anytime.

But then a cool breeze blew in, and her nose tickled. “Haa…choo!”

The sneeze didn’t stop with one. Another two followed consecutively.

“Pollen,” the deep voice came from behind her and surprised Rae’s sneezing to a stop.

Snatching a tissue from her purse, Rae quickly cleaned her nose as she muttered, “No shit.”

Apparently, she misjudged the volume of her voice because when she turned, Mr. Hamilton’s questioning raised eyebrow indicated he’d heard her. But at least he looked somewhat amused. Perhaps, she could still clear up any misunderstanding. She could swallow her pride for the sake of professionalism.

“Look, I’d like to apologize again. Obviously, you weren’t informed of my arrival. There was a last-minute change, but I am supposed to be here,” Rae started. “But if this weekend has become inconvenient, I’m sure Homes can arrange a new time.”

Rae studied the infuriating man—still distractingly bare-chested, she noted—trying to gauge his reaction. But his mouth didn’t even twitch to indicate that he’d accepted her explanation.

Fine. I don’t need to take this crap. I tried. 

Rae turned up her smile. “I will go. Thank you for your…” she paused before injecting a trace of venom into her voice, “…hospitality.”

She spun around and was already halfway down the steps when his voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Kat is on her way,” he said. “She asked if you’d wait.”

Rae rolled her eyes and exhaled slowly to release her exasperation. He couldn’t tell her that before she stomped away?

Turning toward the man yet again, Rae said through gritted teeth, “I really don’t want to bother—”

“Too late,” he deadpanned. “Have a seat. Kat will be here soon.”

Without another word, he walked away to the far side of the house and vanished through a set of French doors. Rae was left alone where she stood with her mouth open.

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His Forever Muse

The Echo Series Book 2

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From the series readers are calling, “Hot, steamy, and deliciously complicated.”

What if you’ve known the love of your life since he was six years old and happens to be your little brother’s best friend? But the man whom Callie runs into in the middle of the desert in Morocco isn’t the little Brandon Rossi she once knew. He is a work of art.

Brandon Rossi is the boy-next-door in a rock star package. As the front man of the rock band Canis Major, a visual artist, and an avid stargazer, he expresses his thoughts and feelings through his music, arts, and tattoos. When he hits an invisible wall that hinders his ability to create, he starts on a quest to find inspiration. Who knew Brandon’s ultimate inspiration comes in the form of an unconventional beauty with golden eyes? He did. He always knew because she was the one who got away.

Calliope Chen-Bisset is a hard-working Parisian art gallerist who has gone through many hurdles in life. She was once broken, but she has tried her best to put herself back together—piece by piece. She doesn’t think she’ll be whole again until a blast from the past reminds her of who she is. The years haven’t dulled their connection. They’ve intensified it.

Brandon is willing to lay down everything for her, but will Calliope open up to him like she once did? Will she let a little fact that he is her little brother’s best friend stop her? Or will it be her past that cast a shadow on their future?

This book has mature situations and some domestic violence themes, though without graphic depiction, which may be considered triggers for some. However, it is also a story of rising from the ashes stronger. Reader discretion is advised.

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His Forever Muse (Childhood friends to lovers romantic suspense)

Brandon hurried into the main courtyard, brushing his damp hair back with his fingers for some semblance of order. A mosaic-tiled fountain stood at its center, surrounded by green plants, giving the courtyard an oasis vibe. On the other side of it, a woman stood talking to Chris.

Facing away from him, Brandon could see that she was of medium height, slender, and dressed in a breezy linen shirt in the color of young leaves paired with wide-legged cream pants. She wore her straight dark hair in a sleek chin-length bob. The woman looked well put together, yet casual and comfortable. It was a refreshing change from the usual head-to-toe black that gallery people usually favored.

As he approached them, the woman laughed at something Chris said. The melodic sound of her laughter froze Brandon and sent him suddenly through memories of innocent youth.

Hot summer days, band sessions in his parents’ garage, that familiar laugh filling the air, the fresh fragrance of citrus filling his randy teenage senses, sketches of a dark-haired girl with golden eyes scattered on the floor of his childhood bedroom, and heartache.

His heart ached inside his chest now as Brandon breathed out. “Calliope.”

The woman slowly turned to the sound of Brandon’s voice, or did the slow-motion effect only occur in his mind? Most likely, but the stunned look on her face was genuine.

Brandon was still in a daze as she stood before him. “Space Cadet Brandon Rossi.”

The childhood moniker snapped his brain back to the present. “Wow, haven’t heard that nickname for years.”

“And I still cringe every time someone calls me Calliope.”

Brandon studied the sophisticated woman staring back at him. She wasn’t the girl who had worn pigtails in grade school or carried a heavy backpack full of books in middle school, or even the girl who had juggled advanced classes with volleyball practices and games throughout high school. But he’d recognize that inviting laugh and those amazing eyes no matter how much she’d changed.

“It’s been a while, Callie.” Brandon moved to hug her but was shocked at how awkward he felt giving her the simple greeting. Their bodies touched just a moment, but the familiar citrus fragrance from his memory enveloped him and lingered even as they pulled apart.

“You know each other. What a small world.” Chris observed the interaction between his two guests with interest.

“We go way back.” Brandon couldn’t take his eyes off Callie. Like he’d said, it’d been a while. Too long.

“Brandon is a friend of my brother’s.” Callie turned a professional smile to Chris.

Brandon’s brows shot up at Callie’s explanation of their connection. It was true—Callie’s brother was one of his best friends and bandmates—but he and Callie had had their own history.

“Callie is Curtis’ sister,” Brandon explained “We’ve known each other since Curtis and I were six years old and she was seven.”

“Seven and a half,” Callie corrected.

Chris studied Callie’s face with new recognition. “I didn’t know Curtis had a sister. I see it now. I should’ve put it together when I saw your last name—Chen-Bisset. Curtis Bisset.

“Chen-Bisset?” Brandon questioned the new hyphenated last name.

“I added my family’s Chinese surname that my mother tried hard to forget.”

“Right,” Brandon remembered. “It suits you.”

Callie smiled but was quick to change the subject. “How do you know each other?”

“Long story, but basically mutual good friends,” Brandon answered.

Chris checked his watch. “Why don’t we get on with business now and swap stories over dinner later? I hope you don’t mind Brandon joining us for the meeting. I’d like to have his perspective as an artist.”

“Of course.” Callie nodded and walked with Chris to where she’d left her things.

Still rooted to where he stood, Brandon followed Callie with his eyes. He’d expected to experience all kinds of surprises on this trip. A blast from the past in the form of Calliope Chen-Bisset wasn’t one of them. One would think fifteen years would dull Callie’s effect on him, but apparently not. Judging from how his blood rushed through his body at double time, his adolescent self had reemerged after seeing the woman Callie had become.

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Unexpected Entanglement

The Echo Series Book 3

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From the series readers are calling, “Hot, steamy, and deliciously complicated.”

When a simple favor turns into an unexpected entanglement.

Rowan Kelly has one goal for the next two weeks: throw the most beautiful wedding for her cousin. So what if the inn she inherited isn’t quite ready or staffed? She’s resourceful and scrappy enough to make it happen all by herself. She doesn’t need some nosy, charming stranger with smiles that both irritate her and make her woman’s bits tingle to swoop in to save the day.

World-renowned hotelier Chris Sullens only planned on spending twenty-four hours in Vinalhaven. So why the hell did he sacrifice his well earned vacation and offer to help the fiery gorgeous innkeeper plan a wedding instead? He tries to keep things professional, but his self-control has its limits, especially when he suddenly has to play the role of the stubborn woman’s doting fiance.

As strange occurrences threaten the wedding, the inn’s future, and Rowan’s safety, can they work together to keep things from blowing up in their faces? Or will their unbridled passion entangle them into something more than they bargained for?

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 Unexpected Entanglement (A small town/island fake engagement romance)

Chris sat on one of the few seats in the small coffee shop he’d seen earlier. He’d walked the entire rows of businesses on Vinalhaven’s little down town, gone into every store, checked the menu of every food establishment.

He sipped his coffee and nodded his approval. He loved his cup of joe dark with a full body, and the girl behincd the counter served him a potent brew.

Chris checked his emails on his phone. He was supposedly on vacation, but he always had difficulty disconnecting. After working to establish three resorts in five years, he could use the rest. Maybe he’d stay a day or two longer to relax. He’s got a feeling there was more to Vinalhaven than what he’d seen.

He looked up from his phone when the door to the coffee shop opened. Two women walked in having a discussion. The contrast between the two ladies caught his interest.

The taller one was dressed in a white shirt tucked into a pair of loose blue jeans that looked more comfortable than fashionable. Her braided black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes indicated she was of Asian descent. She listened to the more petite one in cutoff jean shorts and a rust-colored T-shirt that flaunted her curves, with her hair wound and tucked under a trucker’s hat. The cap’s bill shadowed her eyes.

He overheard the tall one say, “I have a couple of new recruits I’ve been training. They’re new to the island—starting over, you can say.”

“Are they trustworthy?” Petite asked with a slight frown.

Chris’ ears perked at the rich alto timbre coming out of Petite. Not what he expected at all.

“They’ve been vetted.”

“All right.” Petite shrugged. “I’ll see you at Bright Head at nine, then?”

“I’ll be there.” The other lady smiled. “Can I buy you coffee before you go?”

“Thanks, maybe another time. I have to pick up the chefs at the ferry and then head back.” Petite winked and flashed a toothy grin. “Until tomorrow.”

Did the sexy-voiced-petite say Bright Head? 

Before Chris could gather his cup and stand, the petite woman had already disappeared out the door. He rushed out and spotted her walking around the red truck he’d seen earlier.

“Excuse me, miss,” Chris called out as he approached.

The woman stopped, turned her head toward his direction, then looked up at his face as he smiled at her. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you work at the Bright Head Farm & Inn at Long Cove?” Chris asked.”

Her gaze behind her sunglasses went slowly to the truck’s door as if saying duh. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m heading up there to see the owners.” Chris turned up the wattage in his smile to look as harmless as possible. “I was wondering if you could give me—”

Her eyes narrowed as she cut him off, “Do you have an appointment? I wasn’t informed to pick up anyone besides our chefs from the ferry.”

“I want to surprise them,” Chris casually answered. He bluffed his way through conversations with or about people he should’ve “known” all the time.

“How are they, anyhow? Rowan and Kieran?” Dropping first names always helped gain trust.

She finally smiled. “Oh, you’re a friend of the Kellys?”

“Uh…” Chris didn’t want to lie outright, so he just shrugged while maintaining an amiable expression.

“I’m sorry, what’s your name again?” she asked.

“Chris.”

“I tell you what, Chris,” she said as she retreated. “I won’t spoil your surprise, but unfortunately, I can’t give you a ride. Not enough room in the cab, you see. Two people are waiting for me at the ferry terminal with their luggage. You understand?”

“I wasn’t—”

“A shuttle from the hotel down the street runs past us.” She didn’t listen to his answer as she walked to the driver’s side door. “I’m sure they’ll be willing to drop you off.”

“Don’t you have a shuttle for your guests?” Chris questioned, a little miffed by her brusque dismissal. But he might as well try to get some information.

“Currently, I’m all there is,” she flashed him a cheeky grin. “I’m sorry, I can’t accommodate you unless you’d be willing to ride on the…”

She gestured to the bed of her truck, which was already filled with cans of paint and what looked like maintenance supplies.

“It won’t be comfortable, though.” She added, “Can I suggest a bicycle? It’s a great day for it.”

“I have a bike,” Chris answered. “But—”

“Perfect! I’m sorry, but I have to go.” She opened her door. “Maybe I’ll see you up there later?”

She hopped behind the steering wheel and started the truck.

“Count on it.” Chris stepped onto the curb by the passenger door and watched her check her side mirror.

The leggy Asian woman from earlier suddenly came running to her friend in the truck. “I forgot to tell you I’ll have to print out a new contract. I’ll bring it with me in the morning.

“Great,” Petite replied.

“All right. See you tomorrow, Rowan.” Legs waved as she walked away.

Rowan.

Chris’ rounded eyes flew to Petite’s face. She grinned and pulled out of the parking spot, leaving him standing at the curb like a deer caught in a headlights.

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C. R. Alam loves to write heartfelt and steamy love stories with strong yet vulnerable characters readers would root for. There hasn’t been a main character she’s written about whom she didn’t fall in love with despite their shortcomings. She’ll laugh with her characters, cry along with them, then laugh again in the end. When she’s not reading or writing, you’ll most likely find her in the kitchen, cooking, baking, or eating while wearing her trusted Birks, sweatpants, and “I’m emotionally attached to fictional characters” T-shirt. After a whirlwind decade of living abroad, C. R. now lives in Durham, NC, with her husband, daughter, and cat.

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Join C.R. Alam’s Muse Den on Facebook for a chance to win several summer giveaways!

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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If you love small towns, quirky characters, and an intriguing whodunit, you’ll love this cozy mystery series!

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Dead Before Dinner

A Maddie Swallows Mystery Book 1

by Kat Bellemore

Genre: Cozy Mystery

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Green chile has never been more dangerous.

Psychologist Maddie Swallows’ decision to return to New Mexico seemed like a good idea at the time, considering the divorce and her two teenagers she’d dragged along for the ride.

But that was before the New Year’s Eve party she was guilt-tripped into attending. Before a member of the town council wound up dead and everyone at the party became a suspect. And before she was forced to unravel the secrets of her former hometown in order to clear her name.

Of course, with the help of two precocious teenagers and one meddling mother, the real murderer doesn’t stand a chance.

Dead before Dinner is the first book of the Maddie Swallows series. If you love small towns, quirky characters, and an intriguing whodunit, you’ll love this cozy mystery.

Pick up Dead before Dinner and get swept away in this New Mexican mystery series today!

**Start the series for FREE!**

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Trish tapped me on the arm. “Would you stop looking at the kitchen? I’m hungry too, but you shouldn’t make it so obvious.”

I tore my gaze away from the kitchen. I hadn’t even realized I’d been staring. “There’s something wrong with me, Trish. I shouldn’t be thinking about food. A woman just died, right in front of us. I’ve never seen a dead body before, but with Cameron always talking about serial killers, what if I’ve become desensitized? Maybe I no longer have a conscience.”

Trish gave me an amused smile. “Nothing’s wrong with the natural desire to eat—to survive. Everyone else is thinking it too, we just don’t want to be the ones to admit it.”

A knock on the door.

That had to be Dr. Harris.

Everyone froze where they were, all of us surrounding the table yet standing apart. Sam and Katie leaned against one wall, engaged in frantic whispering. When they caught me watching them, they both fell silent and turned away.

“Maybe someone should get the door,” Trish said.

Debbie started, like she’d just realized that someone should probably be her. She moved from where she’d stood in the kitchen doorway.

As soon as she’d turned the knob on the front door, Dr. Harris bustled in. He’d been fresh out of medical school when I’d left town, and it looked like he’d come into his own as he swept into the room with all the confidence that he’d lacked back then.

“I hear that Mrs. Bailey had a bit of a tumble,” he said, scanning the room. “Where is the woman?”

I raised an eyebrow and looked to Debbie. Hadn’t she told him what had really happened? She still seemed to be in shock and didn’t make any move to correct the doctor.

“It was more than a little tumble,” I said, taking a step toward Mrs. Bailey. We’d removed the place settings and used the table cloth to cover her, none of us able to bear looking at the poor woman in the state she was in. It wasn’t right. As much as we’d disliked her, she had been fierce and confident, never letting anyone, or anything, get in her way. And dying in this way… Well, she deserved better than being gawked at.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I have just what she needs to feel right as rain.” The doctor placed his hands on his hips as his gaze swept over the seven of us.

A sudden wave of nausea rolled over me. “Doctor, she’s dead.”

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Dead Upon Arrival

A Maddie Swallows Mystery Book 2

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Flying high in the New Mexican sky has never been more lethal.

The biggest hot air balloon festival would have been a vacation if Maddie didn’t have to balance her apathetic teenagers, a meddling mother, and act as therapist for a desperate patient. Let alone solve a murder case!

When Maddie witnesses someone fall from a hot air balloon, it seems like a tragic accident. But as facts come to light, the police are convinced it’s foul play. And Maddie’s friend is to blame.

With the remainder of the festival canceled and all attendees required to stay for questioning, Maddie has two days to discover the truth behind the murder and free her friend from suspicion.

Dead Upon Arrival is the second book in the Maddie Swallows mystery series. If you like humor, intrigue, and, of course, hot air balloons, you’ll love this cozy mystery.

Grab Dead Upon Arrival and test your whodunit skills today!

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“Unfortunately, we can’t tell you much about Charles Reed.” He looked truly sorry for it. “Didn’t know him all that well.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have been mistaken,” I said. “I heard he’d been traveling all over the world with his balloon for several years now, and I assumed you all must be a fairly tight-knit community.”

Jeremiah was the one who spoke up this time. “Just because he managed to convince unsuspecting fools to fly him around didn’t mean he was a part of the community. The man never lifted a finger to help his crew, sitting back and ordering people around. Even tried to steal me from my own dad’s crew and gave us a hard time when I refused.”

My mom shook her head, like the thought disgusted her. “The more I hear about that man, the worse my opinion of him. It was probably a relief when you heard he’d died.”

Arnold shared an indecipherable look with Jeremiah. “I can’t say we’ll miss him, but no one deserves to die by falling from his own balloon.” He turned back to us. “Charles had a different pilot at every event, no one willing to put up with him longer than that, so I doubt Charles even knew his pilot’s name, let alone what kind of man he was. Something like this was bound to happen eventually.”

My defenses immediately rose, and before I thought better of it, I said, “Andy is as decent a man as they come. He didn’t do this.”

Arnold was quiet for a moment, studying me, and I wished that for once I’d been able to keep my mouth shut. “You know the pilot their holding at the police station?” he finally asked.

“Well, no, not exactly,” I said. “His reputation precedes him.”

Arnold nodded, like he’d thought as much. “Reputation doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t tell the truth of what lies in the soul. All it means is that this Andy person was very good at telling people what they wanted to hear. Take Charles Reed, for example. He was always flaunting his money, telling people of the charities he’d contributed to over the years. Told people that he hired more crew members than necessary, as well as a pilot, because he believed in giving good, honest folks jobs—helping them provide for themselves. Always raised himself up as a philanthropist. But really, he was covering up for his own laziness and the life of luxury that he’d always enjoyed.

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Dead Before I Do

A Maddie Swallows Mystery Book 3

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Till Death Do You Part’ wasn’t supposed to be taken so literally…

When Maddie Swallows attends an out-of-town wedding with her best friend, Benji, she expects free food, dancing, and some awkward moments as she tries to figure out her feelings for her long-time friend.

What she finds instead is a dead groom and an entire wedding guest list who had reason to kill the guy.

It doesn’t help that Maddie was the last person to see the groom alive and is placed in the local police’s crosshairs as they work to solve the murder.

It will take some unexpected sleuthing, and a few therapy sessions, for this psychiatrist to prove her innocence, and bring justice to the real killer.

Dead Before I Do is the third book of the Maddie Swallows mystery series. If you love quirky characters, romance, and plenty of intrigue, you’ll love this cozy mystery.

Pick up Dead Before I Do and travel to White Sands National Park for Maddie’s latest mystery today!

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“I thought… I mean, I hoped that was the direction we’ve been moving in. But the best friend barrier — it’s been a tough one to cross,” I said, my gaze dropping to my lap. “And one that I haven’t been sure we’d ever make it over. We both have histories and baggage and —”

Benji leaned forward like he was going to stop my words with a kiss.

Just the subtle movement caused my lips to clamp shut, my eyes to widen, and me to lose my balance — despite the fact that I was sitting down. My hand shot out, and I planted it in the sand behind me.

Except, it didn’t feel like sand.

I screeched and shot up into the air, wiping my hand viciously against my pants.

Pain flashed across Benji’s features, and I realized what it must have seemed like—like the thought of him kissing me was enough to send me screaming.

And to be fair, it was. If Benji had kissed me, I had no doubt that later that day I’d have screamed in happiness. And panic. And relief. And fear.

But that isn’t what had sent me scrambling.

“There’s something under the sand,” I said, my voice shaking. “Something hairy. Dead coyote maybe?”

Benji’s forehead smoothed, and he chuckled. “I don’t think coyotes hang out at the sand dunes, considering they wouldn’t have a food source. Are you sure it wasn’t your jacket?”

I pointed to my jacket that lay a yard away in the opposite direction. “Not my jacket.”

Benji looked like he still thought I was being ridiculous, but he humored me by leaning forward and sticking his hand in the sand. And then he yanked his hand out of the sand so fast, he stumbled backwards.

I thought he might be messing with me, but one glance at him told me he was completely freaked out.

Something was buried in the sand.

“Well, we can’t just let an animal rot there,” I said. “There’s probably someone at the visitor center who can help us take care of it.”

Benji nodded slowly. The man climbed into all sorts of dark, creepy places for his job as a handyman, laid traps for all kinds of animals, and had killed more rattlesnakes and scorpions than I could keep track of.

But whatever lay dead in the sand had him unnerved.

When I looked back to the spot where the creature lay, I saw why.

The creature was no longer hidden, our movements having partially unearthed it.

And it wasn’t an animal.

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**Coming soon on July 31st!**

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Dead Among Stars
A Maddie Swallows Mystery Book 4
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Connecting with my readers

When I set out to write the Maddie Swallows series, I had never read a cozy mystery book that included young children, with the exception of the Flavia De Luce series. She’s a child herself, but I suppose that still counts.

It just isn’t done very often. And that seemed strange to me.

I wanted characters that my readers could connect with. And so was born Maddie Swallows, a divorced, single mom to two teenagers. Who also happens to be a psychologist and is forced to leave her position at a large university and return to her hometown where she opens up a much-needed therapy office. (It wouldn’t be a cozy mystery without someone returning home after a long hiatus, right?)
I love writing with children as a main part of the series. They are hilarious and always trying to put themselves in the middle of things using skills that teenagers are best at. Like technology. (Don’t worry, they’re never in real danger.)

There’s of course the meddling mother and estranged childhood best friend in the mix.

My real goal with this series was to keep it real. The local sheriff isn’t bumbling around—she’s good at her job. Just needs a little help from the resident psychologist, whether she likes to admit it or not.

My hope is that you laugh a lot, that Maddie and her kids pull on your heartstrings at least a little, and that you’re able to solve the mystery right alongside them in the end.

Read the first book in the series, Dead Before Dinner, for free HERE.

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Kat Bellemore is a small-town romance and cozy mystery author. Deciding to have New Mexico as the setting for two of her series was an easy choice, considering its amazing sunsets, blue skies and tasty green chile. That, and she currently lives there with her husband and two cute kids. They hope to one day add a dog to the family, but for now, the native animals of the desert will have to do. Though, Kat wouldn’t mind ridding the world of scorpions and centipedes. They’re just mean.

You can visit Kat at www.kat-bellemore.com.

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At the Ready

by Sharon Michalove

July 3, 2023 Cover Reveal

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At the Ready by Sharon Michalove

Synopsis:
 

Micki Press agrees to a date with JL Martin when her long-term, seemingly stable relationship with an artist implodes. Now her unfaithful former lover is stalking her, and JL, who is the CEO of WatchDog, Inc. has more than one reason to feel protective. Micki isn’t ready for a new commitment, especially since she’s trying to get promoted at one of the top corporate law firms in Chicago. But her social activist proposal to create a pro bono division in the firm doesn’t go over well with the conservative partners. JL has his own complications with a mother who wants him move back to Vancouver and marry someone French-Canadian, Catholic, and young enough to produce grandchildren. Micki won’t tick any of those boxes. And JL wants to get his deadbeat uncle out of his mother’s house and persuade her to move to Chicago.

Are JL and Micki ready to negotiate the twists and turns or will the challenges make them sing the Chicago blues?

Book Details:

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Published by: Coffee and Eclairs Books (self-published) Publication Date: August 2023 ISBN: 978-1-7369187-6-0 Series: Global Security Unlimited, 3

Book Links: Amazon | Book Bub | Goodreads

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Read an excerpt:
Chicago, February 2014
One secret of success in life is for a man to be ready for his opportunity when it comes.—Benjamin Disraeli
Micki Today’s the day. Best suit. Flawless hair and makeup. Every inch the polished senior associate. No four-inch heels, though. Frederick Lanscombe, managing partner, is a little sensitive about his height and this meeting is the crucial first step in the campaign to be the next partner at Miller, Lanscombe, Baker, Francis, Masters, and Hargrove. The door to the small conference room is wide open, Fred at the head of table, eating a donut. My mentor, Rebecca Masters smiles and gives me a small thumbs up. Tyler Miller nods to acknowledge I’m there. More than there. After a hundred years, this firm is still a boys’ club but I plan to crack into top echelon and become just the second woman to make partner. I fly through the door and end up on hands and knees when Hayden Forbes-Cartwright barrels into me. When I look up, Fred’s donut is poised at his open mouth. Rebecca’s hand is over her mouth. And Tyler laughs. “Great entrance, Micki.” The censure I hear pricks my balloon of confidence. A snigger erupts from Hayden as his big hand reaches down to pull me up. “So sorry, Micki. Couldn’t put the brakes on in time.” Upright, balanced a little precariously on my toothpick heels, my glare has the heat of the Milky Way. Not that Hayden pays any attention. His bogus concern is yet one more layer of deceit. Still, points to him. I’m the klutz and he’s the chivalric hero.“Have a seat, Micki, Hayden.” Fred gives each of us a once over. Dressing well is one of the unspoken rules. Hayden’s navy blue pinstripe is comparable to my silver gray jacket and matching pencil skirt—points even on wardrobe. My phone is in my lap and I pull up my spreadsheet. I’ve kept score since the first time we met. The advantage has seesawed back and forth, but we’re competing for the pinnacle in the stakes race, so I’ll have to up my game. Hayden and I were adversaries from the get-go. We started here, on the same day eight years ago. Me half an hour early. Hayden fifteen minutes late strolling in with his uncle. All my muscles clenched when he looked me over with his trademark devil-may-care smile. “I know you received the memo. With Sonny Philips’ retirement, the firm will promote one associate to partner this year. As the two seniors, you will be the leading candidates.” Hayden stops fiddling with his Chicago Yacht Club tie. “Does that mean other associates might be considered?” “Technically, yes, but in reality you two are the only ones qualified right now. The partners will evaluate you on several criteria besides the competencies you’ve shown in your time here.” He pauses. Hayden rushes into the short silence. “Does every partner get a vote?” “You know they do,” Tyler chides his nephew impatiently. “And are some votes weighted more heavily than others? Like seniority?” “No.” Rebecca’s response is explosive. “Please go on, Fred.” When I glance toward Hayden, he shows no embarrassment, not even a slight flush. We all learn to put on a neutral face. I permit myself a very small smile. Minus five to Hayden. Fred looks at the sheet in front of him, then from Tyler to Rebecca. They nod. “The criteria include enthusiasm, treatment of others, the opinion of your mentor, maintaining personal control, commitment, successful building and protection of your reputation and that of the firm, consistent hard work, always available, constant improvement, and most important— being perceived as trustworthy.” Hayden’s eyes dart like tiny silverfish, his tell when he’s scheming. on how to get the edge. While I put in the long hours and never turn down a request, Hayden skates by, taking credit for the work of junior associates. Boasting about staying late when he disappears in the middle of the day. When your uncle’s name is on the door, you have an extra pass. Tyler Miller will definitely push for Hayden to be the next partner. Fred is still talking and I wrench my attention back to his droning monotone. “Besides the formal evaluation, the other piece will be assisting Rebecca with a high-profile insider trading case. It’s more than usually sensitive because our client is a candidate for a Senate seat. He says he’s been set up. Not necessarily a strong or provable defense. You’ll be combing emails, social media, accounts, and documents to see what evidence you find.” Bucket of nightcrawlers? Come on, Micki, try to show some enthusiasm. Can’t jump up and down. “What a great opportunity for us to show what we’re made of.” Hayden’s wide smile and crackling delivery is phony as a carney barker’s come on. Our managing partner nods his head approvingly. Hayden is his favored candidate too. Fred and Tyler have some kind of mutual admiration society and Hayden benefits. Yeah, he’s a suck up. My turn. Say something but avoid the gush. “This is a amazing challenge. I really appreciate the chance to work on a case so important to the future and reputation of the firm and, potentially beyond, Fred.” Rebecca produces a small smile, so I hope I’ve hit the right note. As we walk out, she stops me. “Micki, I have a lunch appointment, but let’s have a drink after work.” She looks around but doesn’t see anyone in lurking mode. “We haven’t had a good chat for a while.” “Great, Rebecca. Just come by my office when you’re ready to leave.” Then I cancel my date for the evening. Work comes first, always. ***** The Gage is lively at five thirty. After-work drinks have replaced the three-martini lunch, unless you’re Hayden Forbes-Cartwright. He indulges in both. Rebecca manages to get us a quiet table in a corner near the tile fireplace. We won’t have to shout and have less likelihood of being overheard. After the drinks are ordered, she pulls out a legal pad. “Thought we could go over some strategies for the work. My thought is that you’ll work on the emails, social media, anything online and whatever documents we can upload. That way, while you’re traveling, you’ll have plenty of material to access.” “That would be great. I’ve been anxious about being away at such a crucial point in my career.” The pencil between Rebecca’s fingers moves up and down like a seesaw. “Thanks to technology. Years ago we were tied to the office, the library. I’m glad you can go to the awards ceremony. Kind of like the Oscars for authors.” “Yeah. Still five working days away…” “Our new legal research assistant is already busy organizing everything as documentation comes in.” A Paris Rose is put in front of Rebecca, who pushes her legal pad to the side, but not before a few drops splash onto the paper, leaving a light pink trail. My Jabberwock is in a coupe. She takes a sip just as the cheese board is deposited in the middle of the table along with a basket of fried pickles. Cheese is a magnet for me. My grabby fingers snatch some almost before the server gets the platter on the table. “Simon Greenberg is an attorney with Talcott, Maier, and current Republican candidate for Senate from Illinois. The SEC received a tip claiming he made use of private information to trade stocks from several companies he represents. After an investigation, the Commission decided on civil charges. Unfortunately, because his candidacy has made him a public figure, criminal charges are pending as well. Maybe some questions about election finance too.” “Wait. Shouldn’t Hayden be here?” Not that I want him, but if we’re a team, he deserves the same explanations. “Hayden has already been briefed.” Be professional. In control. Pretend it doesn’t matter. “Oh. I see.” But I don’t. Not at all. Rebecca takes a huge swallow of the pink liquid. “Not by me. After our meeting, Tyler and Fred took Hayden to lunch and briefed him there.” How does she know? Or is this an assumption? My heated protest escapes before I can rein it in. “But it’s your case.” She waves the comment away. “He was so full of himself when he got back. Swanned into my office. ‘Simon Greenberg, huh. I wondered after the rumors flying around. Good for us.’ Then he laughed and walked out.” Her scowl could freeze the Chicago River. “I was sure Tyler at least would make sure he’s up to speed and I wanted to get you in the loop right away. I wouldn’t be surprised if Fred and Tyler didn’t give Hayden some instruction on how to handle things and he will take advantage of the time you are away in April.” My cocktail beckons and I chug it down, sputtering slightly. “Should I cancel the trip?” She ignores that. “You’ll meet the client tomorrow, so make a strong impression. You’ll have plenty of work to do while you’re out of the office. Get your laptop set up with VPN. It will be your lifeline to the firm. Video meetings will help too. Make sure you can report on progress every day. A strong impression while you’re in Paris will give you a leg up.” We see the waiter in the distance and Rebecca catches his attention. Once we have refills, she takes a sip, then leans forward. “Show you’re dedicated to the firm and the case and that you can work without supervision. I’ll try to schedule the meetings first thing in the morning to mitigate the seven-hour time difference.” “And the other complications?” “Hayden is one, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. More in terms of your selection as partner. That will be decided long before the case is finished. But he’ll push for every plum he can pluck. The other is that because of the election cycle, Greenberg is pushing to get this cleared up or buried quickly. News of the pending charges will hit the papers tomorrow.” Why haven’t they leaked already? Rebecca must be a mind reader. “The papers are planning front-page splashes with stories, commentary, and reactions on at least two inside pages.” I can picture the Tribune. Huge headline and photos on their broadsheet front page. Stories about the investigation, the campaign, lots of background on the candidate, a piece where the rest of the field comments. Then an editorial on the op-ed pages. Maybe a political cartoon. The Sun-Times tabloid format will be just as comprehensive in a more compact form. “Collusion?” “Cooperation.” Her forehead wrinkles, brows touching. The corners of her mouth turn down. “Keeping him from making incendiary comments is going to be a job in itself. We want as little coverage as possible while we work on clearing him—if we can. The damage to his reputation is a gift to the other contenders. He’s been the front runner, the poster boy for the party.” In two swallows, the Jabberwock has disappeared. I order another, then cram more cheese into my mouth. “Hey, guys. Didn’t get the memo.” Hayden pushes into the tufted leather booth and reaches for a pickle, almost knocking me to the floor. “Uncle Tyler thought you might be here, Rebecca. Said it’s your usual watering hole.” “A casual afterwork drink.” Rebecca’s voice is flat. Hayden reaches over and taps her legal pad. “Sure you aren’t strategizing?” The twinkle in his eye shows malice, not amusement. “By the way, I met Laney this afternoon. She’s a cutie.” “Laney?” The name is unfamiliar. With a leer, he says, “Our legal researcher. Fresh out of her paralegal program.” The server comes by with my third drink. “Are you running a tab?” Rebecca nods. “Two Satan’s Whiskers. Need to play catch up with these two.” His smirk makes my skin crawl. “How appropriate.” He snickers. My snarky comment bounces off his crocodile hide. Before the drinks guy can take off, I hold up a hand. “I’d like to order something to go.” Pad out, he looks a bit like a bird, head to the side. “Shrimp cocktail with no sauce, and the Apple Salad. Just put the shrimp on top of the salad with the dressing on the side.” “You got it.” Hayden puffs out his chest like a pouter pigeon. “Me, I have a date as soon as I finish these truly spectacular drinks.” “Drinks named just for you.” He grins. “You know it. Scary but seductive. And I have some seducing on tap.” Probably with our new researcher. I push the sour feelings back. “Have fun.” “Oh, I intend to.” Rebecca’s warning look doesn’t make any impression either. She grabs her coat off the empty seat. “Off to have dinner with my hubby. He’s cooking tonight.” I trudge to the office, takeout container in hand, ready for a little research of my own. *** Excerpt from At the Ready by Sharon Michalove. Copyright 2023 by Sharon Michalove. Reproduced with permission from Sharon Michalove. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Sharon Michalove:

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Sharon Michalove

Sharon Michalove writes romantic suspense and traditional mystery as well as being a published historian. After growing up in suburban Chicago, she spent most of her life in a medium-sized university town, working as an academic professional as well as teaching history. She was married to a composer and frequently uses her knowledge of music, history, and food to enrich her novels. A hockey fan, Sharon moved back to Chicago in 2017 so she could go to Blackhawks games and spend quality time at Eataly Chicago.

Catch Up With Sharon: CoffeeAndEclairs.com Goodreads BookBub – @sdmichalove Instagram – @sdmichaloveauthor Twitter – @sdmichalove Facebook – @sharonmichalove AllAuthor – @sharonmichalove

 

 

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Skinwalker. Lycanthrope. Werewolf.

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Whatever the name, whatever the legend,

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an old evil has found its way into McGregor Falls, and no one is safe.

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Tracks

by Lyn I. Kelly

Genre: Horror

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“It ain’t nothin’ like you’ve ever seen before, Sheriff.”

That was when Sheriff Cotton Briggs found the body, slaughtered beyond recognition inside a random boxcar. The trains have always moved through McGregor Falls, Texas, but now they have brought something into town, something Briggs had hoped was forever in the past.

Fifteen-year-old Travis Braniff while exploring an old trainyard with a friend, encounters that same something. Both boys escape the creature’s murderous intent, but now it is after them and will stop at nothing to prevent its secret from being revealed…too soon.

In Lyn I. Kelly’s newest novel, the werewolf mythology is explored and rewritten, as vengeance is rendered onto a small Texas town and secrets are revealed. Skinwalker. Lycanthrope. Werewolf. Whatever the name, whatever the legend, an old evil has found its way into McGregor Falls, and no one is safe.

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**Only .99 cents!!**

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Travis turned, Mark at his heel, and took a haphazard step towards the hill they had descended only a short time previous when another sound, a new sound, froze him in his tracks. Something was coming up from behind them. Even through the wind, he could hear it, heavy and deliberate.

Travis stopped to find that Mark was already looking behind them, his body language telling Travis all he needed to know. He followed his friend’s line of sight until he stopped on the dark shadow standing just beyond the boxcar they had been investigating.

Even at this distance, Travis knew it was enormous—its shoulders and chest heaving rhythmically, hot plumes of smoke emerging as its breath and body heat dispelled into the air. Travis did not know what it was, but it was not a man.

“Mark, run,” Travis said, the fear choking his throat allowing for little more than a whisper, and either Mark could not hear, could not move, or both, because his friend did not budge.

Travis started to nudge his light in the shadow’s direction but could not find the courage to do it. In fact, he had never felt more incapable of movement in his life. Run! Tell Mark to run! Both of you run! His mind screamed at him, but he could do nothing. The shadow took a step forward, and Travis was certain this was how he was going to die when—

—the creature screamed forth the most violent of roars, a haunting song whose cadence shifted from pain to anger to rage, metamorphosizing into a throaty, animal rumble.

That was when Travis found his legs.

He started to pull away only to realize that Mark had not moved. He grabbed his friend roughly with both hands. “Move!” he screamed, spinning Mark into action.

Through the yard and up the hill both boys ran, Travis hearing the unmistakable sound of the shadow thing chasing after them. He looked back and saw that not only was it chasing them, but it was also closing fast. Instinctively, he threw his flashlight at the creature, hitting it square in the chest. He turned ahead to find that in his moment of distraction, Mark had sprinted well ahead.

He watched as his friend reached the top of the incline only to pivot, stumble, and disappear over the hill in a swell of obscenities. In two huge bounds, Travis was atop the incline and straddling the railroad tracks looking down the other side where Mark had fallen.

Travis part-ran, part-slid down the hillside and drew up behind Mark. He hastily put his hands under his friend’s arms, Mark jumping at the touch, and hoisted him up.

“I caught my foot on the tracks,” Mark wheezed, almost apologetically.

“We gotta move,” Travis beseeched, pushing Mark ahead of him.

“What was that? A dog? Coyote?” Mark asked as he ran over the gravel road and towards the woodland edge.

Travis didn’t answer, but it was no coyote, much less any sort of dog. He cautiously looked back towards the hillside. The sky was overcast and loomed darkly, and without any light source, everything was painted a deep, unforgiving midnight blue; however, his peripheral vision still caught a shadowy silhouette explode atop the tracks and leap down into the darkness.

“Faster, Mark!” he screamed. They were both heading for the woods, but Travis understood the woods would do nothing, not hide them, and certainly not protect them. It still had to be better than being out in the open, he reasoned.

Through their footfalls and Mark’s labored breathing, Travis heard a new sound: a sharp crunching. That thing, whatever it was, was close, so close that Travis felt a smattering of rocks kicked up by the thing’s pursuit sting the backs of his legs. In desperation, Travis grabbed Mark’s arm in the hopes of helping his friend move faster, but two steps later, they both stumbled and fell.

Travis felt a burning as his cheek skid roughly across the gravel while somewhere around him, Mark let out a shout as they tumbled over the other before settling in a frightened mound of cold pain. For a moment, there was no sound except for his and Mark’s anxious breathing as they lay twisted and cold on the barren gravel road, but then a dark shadow swelled over them, turning the blue night black.

It was pouncing, Travis realized. Instinctively, he turned, throwing his right arm over his face, and felt something like a hot knife slice effortlessly through his jacket and into his forearm before pulling free with a terrible squelch.

Travis heard the thing land in the leaves and twigs of the bordering forest, and he tried to reach for Mark, knowing another attack was coming, but his right arm would not respond. Aside from a sickly warm sensation that was flowing down his arm, it was numb. He switched to his left arm, again trying to help Mark—and himself—up, but after a confusing dance of struggling to right the other, they both collapsed back to the ground.

Travis could hear the thing circling around in the woods, moving towards them. Unable to run, he shut his eyes tightly, hoping that whatever was out there would lose interest and, if not, would be quick about its intent.

Then there was the explosion.

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What are your top 10 favorite books/authors? I would really have to think about my top ten favorite authors and books, but I can give you at least eight of my top books.

  • Alas, Babylon by Pat Frank
  • The Bourne Identity by Robert Ludlum (so much better than the movie series)
  • Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier
  • The Last Run by Todd Lewan
  • All the Light We Cannot See by Anthoney Doerr
  • A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles
  • It by Stephen King
  • Patriot Games by Tom Clancy

What book do you think everyone should read? That is an exceptionally tough question because everyone has different tastes so to speak. I will say that I believe Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier is one of – if not the most – well written novels I have ever read. He truly has a mastery on the English language.

How long have you been writing? I have been writing since I was about eleven years old.

Do the characters all come to you at the same time or do some of them come to you as you write? The main characters I have in mind before I start writing and many of the second-tier characters are there as well. The other characters I create where needed, to tell a story or bridge a gap. Sometimes these lesser characters grown into (almost) main characters.

What kind of research do you do before you begin writing a book? I will do research on history or myths and legends when applicable before I begin writing. While writing a will research specifics on certain types of equipment, cars, uniforms for Federal or State entities and the like.

Do you see writing as a career? I see writing as a passion and a hobby. If I ever saw it as a “career”, then I think I would be doing it wrong.

What do you think about the current publishing market? I believe the current publishing market is broken. Right now I promise you there are writers out there who are better than anyone we have ever had the privilege to read, but they are currently toiling in obscurity because of the current publishing industry. It is a subjective market where subjective agents are the gatekeepers. I had an agent tell me once that because of bad financial investments by the major publishing houses they will rarely – if ever – invest in new talent. They will only invest in proven commodities or celebrities with a following (even if they cannot write at all). How backwards is that? If you go to medical school, for example, and graduate at the top of your class, you will be offered a job and given the chance to prove yourself. If you are a writer, you have to know somebody or have a parent who is already an established writer, before anyone will give you a chance. That is why so many small and mid-market publishing houses are failing and the larger publishing houses are losing market share: people are tired of being told what they should read and are investing their time (and money) in independent authors and small market authors.

Do you read yourself and if so what is your favorite genre? I appreciate all genres excepting for the romance genre.

Do you prefer to write in silence or with noise? Why? I prefer to write in silence because I am too easily distracted.

Do you write one book at a time or do you have several going at a time? I write one book at a time.

If you could have been the author of any book ever written, which book would you choose? That is another tough question. Maybe Cold Mountain? Maybe the Harry Potter series? Maybe any of a dozen-plus books.

Pen or type writer or computer? Computer.

Tell us about a favorite character from a book. The first character that comes to mind is Snape from the Harry Potter series. Gray or conflicted characters are the most fun to read – and to write for that matter. I also enjoy “villains” whose motives are understandable and with whom you would completely empathize with were it not for their methods.

What made you want to become an author and do you feel it was the right decision? I have an overactive imagination, and writing is my outlet for that. So, yes, it was the right decision.

A day in the life of the author? The day in the life of an author is no different than a day in the life of anyone else, especially when writing is not your proverbial day job. It is not glamorous.

Advice they would give new authors? The advice I give to new authors is that they need to write their story, what they are passionate about, not what the market tells you to write. If you write about something about which you are passionate, it shows in your work. However, if you are writing about something just because it is popular and it is not your passion, that will also show, and your readers will see through that, and your work will suffer.

Describe your writing style. My style is an amalgam of almost anyone I have ever read. These days there are no unique styles, just styles based on other writers. If I had to be more specific, I would say I like to be detail oriented so that my words paint pictures in my readers’ heads. I also am not one to use too much profanity, if at all. I once heard it opined – by another author – that profanity are cheap words used by those too ignorant to come up with something more appropriate. 

What makes a good story? Well developed characters make a good story. There are very few original ideas out there, but there are original characters. It is the placement of those characters in a situation – new or rehashed – that makes the story worth reading.

What are you currently reading? I am currently reading In the Woods by Tana French.

What is your writing process? For instance do you do an outline first? Do you do the chapters first? I plan out the story, knowing how it will begin, end, and the conflicts in between. Then, I start writing and let the characters and situations take me where they will. After the first draft, it is time for the second and third drafts, or “reshoots” as I like to call them. Then, my editor gets a hold of it. After she is done, I read it one more time and tweak anything that I find needing. 

What are common traps for aspiring writers? Aspiring writers are either hesitant to write or get trapped trying to make their first draft perfect. Just start writing and see where it takes you.

What is your writing Kryptonite? Noise. I cannot write anywhere it is exceptionally noisy.

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want? I write about what I am passionate about, and I hope it intrigues the readers.

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be? I would tell him to start writing sooner.

What’s the most difficult thing about writing characters from the opposite sex? As a guy, I will admit that women are much deeper and more complicated than we (guys) are. Women see things and appreciate things from perspectives we will not ever have. So, when I write from a woman’s perspective, I try to be more inclusive in my thought process. I have a wife and two daughters, so I also think about how they had handled past situations. In my Dark Lands series, there are two primary characters, a brother and a sister: Webb (17) and Sundown (14). I was very nervous being a forty-something guy (at the time) writing from a fourteen-year-old girl perspective, especially when in book three of that series, she became the lead character throughout. Ironically, book three is the favorite book in the series for those readers who have emailed me or engaged me at a Fan Expo, and one of the reasons is because Sundown was their favorite character.

How long on average does it take you to write a book? I am one of the world’s slowest writers (and readers). It usually takes me a year or two to write a book. It took me four years to write Tracks.

Do you believe in writer’s block? Yes, I believe in writer’s block, and I suffer from it frequently. Purportedly, most writers suffer from it because they are worried that their next book will not do as good as their last book. For me, writer’s block stems from depressive episodes, times where I am not motivated to write because I just feel down or lethargic.

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Lyn I. Kelly is the author of the Dark Lands series and the horror novel, Tracks. His work has been published in Diamond Comics and in periodicals such as the Wichita Falls Times-Record News, the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, and Newsweek. Lyn is a member of the Horror Writers Association of America (HWA). He and his family live in Keller, Texas. He has cats that occasionally hinder his writing.

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