Archive for January, 2024

The January Corpse by Neil Albert Banner

The January Corpse
by Neil Albert
January 15-26, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
 

Dave Garrett is a disbarred lawyer eking out a living in Philadelphia as a private eye. At noon on Friday, a law school classmate offers him what looks like a hopeless investigation. Seven years before, a man named Daniel Wilson disappeared. His car was found abandoned with bullet holes and blood, but no body. A hearing is scheduled for Monday on whether Wilson should be declared legally dead. The police have been stumped for seven years. Organized crime warned off the first investigator to look into the case. Over the course of the weekend, the case takes Dave from center city to the coal regions and back, where the story comes to what the critics called “a startling and satisfying conclusion.” Nominated as a Best First Novel by the Private Eye Writers of America when it first appeared in 1990 and the first of a series of twelve.

 
Praise for The January Corpse:

“Worthy of a Scott Turow . . . This exceptional first mystery is driven by a baffling plot and comes to a surprise ending that passes the Holmesian test.” ~ Publishers Weekly “Tantalizing twisted” ~ The New York Times Book Review “A first rate first novel.” ~ The Boston Globe

 

Book Details:

Genre: Mystery, Private Eye

Published by: Onyx Publication Date: First published January 1990 Number of Pages: 207 ISBN: 9798663201599 Series: Dave Garrett Mystery, #1

Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Enjoy this peek inside:
CHAPTER ONE
FRIDAY, 11:00 A.M.
I couldn’t stand the sight of him but I took his case anyway. I’d been sitting in the spectator’s section of a courtroom in the basement of the Court of Common Pleas of Philadelphia County. At night the room was used for criminal arraignments, and it showed. Everything in the room was dirty, even the air. I breathed in a mixture of grit, poverty and despair. The bare wooden benches were carved in complex, overlapping swirls of graffiti, initials, gang emblems, and phone numbers. Some people called it street art. I didn’t. To my left, fifteen feet off the ground, a clock was built into the wall. It was missing its hands and most of the brass numerals, and the few that were left were muddy brown. Not that I cared what time it was; as long as I sat there, waiting to testify, my meter was running. Today the room was being used by the Family Court for a custody case. This was the second day of trial, and the wife’s attorney was hoping to get me on the stand today. There’s no such thing as a custody case with class. The couple were both doctors, both well respected. Married ten years, two children, both girls, ages four and seven. They had separated two years ago. Each had a condo; his was just south of Society Hill in a newly gentrified neighborhood; hers was on Rittenhouse Square. They both had memberships at the usual country clubs, plus time-shares in Aspen and Jamaica. She drove a BMW and he drove a Benz. It had been amicable at first. Neither one was leaving for someone else; they just didn’t like being married to each other anymore. There was no one stirring it up. Most spouses need encouragement from a third party to get really nasty–a new girlfriend, a mother, a friend, or a lawyer. In the absence of someone to stir the pot, it was very civilized. For a while. Then, while working out a property settlement, her lawyer found that her husband had forgotten to disclose his half-interest in a fast-food franchise–a small matter of half a million dollars. In response, she dropped the blockbuster; she moved to terminate his visitation rights because she claimed he was sexually abusing the seven-year-old. He denied it and countered with a suit for attorney’s fees and punitive damages. The case had started yesterday, was being tried again today, and would probably go on for a good chunk of the next two weeks. I had very little to say, but the wife’s lawyer wanted me to testify anyway. In a close case, almost anything might make a difference. I’d followed the husband for a week, and the most interesting thing I’d found was that he read Penthouse. Plus, as I was sure his lawyer would point out on cross, Time, Sports Illustrated, Business Week, and The New England Journal of Medicine. The wife’s attorney, sitting at counsel table, turned to me, pointed to his watch, and shook his head. The cross examination of the wife’s child psychologist was hopelessly bogged down on the question of her credentials, and they weren’t going to reach me that day. The case wasn’t on again until the following Wednesday; I was free till then. I nodded, pointed to my own watch to indicate that my meter was off and headed for the door. My overcoat was already over my arm; no one familiar with the Court of Common Pleas of Philadelphia County leaves their property unattended. There used to be a sign outside the Public Defender’s office: Watch your hat, ass, and overcoat, till somebody stole it. The corridor was as filthy as the courtroom, but at least there was light. And people–lots of them. The young and shabbily dressed ones were there for misdemeanor criminal or for family law cases. The felony defendants were usually older and better dressed; they’d learned the hard way that making a good impression just might help. The best dressed of all–except for the big-time drug defendants, who put everyone to shame–were the civil trial attorneys. There was big money in personal injury work and large commercial claims, and a lot of it was worn on their backs. My own suit, when it was new, had looked like theirs; now it was dated and worn, and my tie had a small stain. I was dressed well enough for what I did now. I was nearly to the exit, feeling blasts of cold air as people went in and out, when I heard him call my name. The voice was raspy and nasal. I turned; it was Mark Louchs, a classmate from law school. He practiced with a small firm out in the suburbs. His hairline had receded since I’d last seen him, and he was wearing new, thicker glasses. His skin was red, probably from a recent Caribbean vacation. He smiled, shook my hand, and said he was so glad to see me. It was all too fast and too hearty, and I wondered what he wanted from me. “Hello, Mark. Going well for you?” “God, hearings coming out my ears. Clients calling all hours. Can’t get away from it. My accountant–I’m busy as hell–” He stopped himself. “Yeah. Fine. Look, you know how bad I feel about what happened to you. ” His voice trailed off. He’d been a jerk when I needed his help and we both knew it. I said nothing, letting the awkward silence go on. Making him uncomfortable was petty, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying it. When he was nervous, I noticed, his smile was a little lopsided. When he was certain that I was going to leave him hanging, he went on. “Look, I hear you’re doing investigations now.” “It’s the closest thing I can do to keep my hand in. And I sure wasn’t going to hang around as somebody’s research assistant.” “I tried to reach you first thing this morning. They said you were out. ” I hadn’t had time to check my messages, but I just stayed quiet. I liked leaving him under the impression that I was in no hurry to talk to him. Partly because it might give me an advantage in whatever he wanted with me, and partly because it was true. “Listen, Dave, I’d like you to do me a favor. Are you set up to handle a rush job?” I do plenty of favors, but not in business. And not for someone who didn’t respond to my request for a letter of support when I’d gone before the Disciplinary Board with my license on the line. I kept my voice disinterested and cautious. “How much a favor, and how much a rush?” “I need you to do an investigation for a case to be heard this coming Monday at one thirty.” I carefully gave a low whistle, watching for his reaction. “That gives me just the rest of today and the weekend. Pretty short notice.” “If you can do it, the fee should be no problem. I’m sure we can agree on an acceptable rate. ” I looked at his suit and at my own. I knew the money would never wind up in a suit. I had too many other bills. But it gave me something to focus on. “Let’s go somewhere and hear about it.” We put on our overcoats, cut through the perpetual construction around City Hall and wound up at a small bar near Sansom. He found a quiet corner booth and ordered two coffees. Whatever serious lawyers do after five, they don’t drink during the day. “Ever do a presumption of death hearing!” he asked. “Fifteen years ago, fresh out of law school, I did a memo for a partner.” “Familiar with the law?” “Unless it’s changed. If all you have is a disappearance, no body or other direct proof of death, the passage of seven years without word gives rise to a presumption of death. If the person were alive, the law assumes that someone would have heard from them.” “I represent the survivors of a man who disappeared under circumstances strongly suggestive of his death. His name is—was–Daniel Wilson. We filed an action to have him declared dead. The hearing is Monday afternoon at one-thirty in Norristown. The insurance company is fighting tooth and nail.” “What carrier? I do some work for USF&G and for Travelers. I’d hate to get on their bad side. ” “Neither of them. Some one-lung life insurance outfit out of Iowa. Reliant Fidelity Mutual, or something like that.” “Let’s hear some more. ” “He lived in Philly and had offices in the city and in Norristown. I figured that his office in Norristown gave me enough to get venue in Montgomery County. I don’t come into Philadelphia for trials if I can avoid it. The insurance company won’t offer a nickel, but they don’t care if it’s in Philadelphia or Montgomery County. ” “What kind of office?” “A law office. Never heard of the guy before this case, though. I made a couple calls to friends from law school, but neither of them knew him. ” “Lawyers aren’t disappearing kinds of people. We’re more like barnacles.” “Wait till you hear about the disappearance. Just after New Year’s, seven years ago. His sister was in town from LA; they planned to get together. They’re in separate cars, out in the country. Powell Township, Berks County. She finds his car off the road full of bullet holes. Plenty of blood, but no body. Police can’t turn up shit. He was never heard from again.” It was short notice, but I had no plans for the weekend. It sounded like a break from skip traces and catching thieving employees. And it paid. “The case has been kicking around for months. You didn’t decide to hire an investigator this morning.” Even in the dimness I could tell he was flustered. “Yeah, you’re right; you’re getting sloppy seconds. The Shreiner Agency was handling it till yesterday. ” I just sat there until he decided to continue. “They were doing all the usual interviews, credit checks, asset checks. They hand-delivered back the file and refunded our retainer. And a letter saying they wouldn’t be able to help any further. ” “Someone warned them off. ” “There could be other reasons.” “This thing smells to me like organized crime. That’s out of my league. ” “Look, nobody’s asking you to find who killed him, even if he’s dead. We just need to say that there’s no evidence he’s alive. That ought to be easy enough.” He didn’t say the words ‘even for you’, but I heard them. “Tell that to the Shreiner Agency. ” He finished his coffee. He was anxious to get help, but I was clearly hitting a nerve. “Yes or no?” I normally worked for a flat fifty dollars an hour. Right then, considering who I’d be working for and whatever had happened to the Shreiner Agency, I wasn’t so sure if I wanted it. “I charge my attorney’s rate–one hundred fifty per hour; two hundred for work outside of business hours, half rate for travel time, plus all expenses.” “Think you can come up with something for that kind of money?” “Haven’t the slightest idea. You know how it is. I work by time, not results.” “That’s a lot of money.” “And it’s quarter to twelve on Friday.” He gave me the kind of look I didn’t normally associate with being hired–it was closer to the expression you get when you steal somebody’s parking place. But he grunted something that sounded like “okay” and gave me his business card with his home number on it. And the Shreiner file, too–there was so little of it, he was carrying it in his breast pocket. “I’ll look this over and do what I can this afternoon. When can I talk to the sister?” I asked. “Give me your card. She’s in the area. I’ll have her at your office at nine tomorrow morning. ” “Make it seven; I don’t want to lose any time on Saturday. It’s tougher to reach people on Sunday.” “Okay, but keep me posted, will you? Remember that you’re working under the supervision of an attorney. ” “Right. ” I wanted to tell him that I was working under the supervision of an asshole, but I let it pass. Philadelphia has mild winters, but early January is no time to linger outside. I needed a quiet place to read. I went to Suburban Station and found an empty bench. The Shreiner Agency was like the Army: bloated, bureaucratic, and sluggish, and most of its best people moved along after a few years. Yet they were careful and scrupulously honest. That counted for a lot in my business. The file was only about twenty pages, and most of it was negative information. Daniel Wilson hadn’t voted in his home district since the time of his disappearance. Neither had he started any lawsuits, mortgaged any real estate, filed for bankruptcy, used his credit cards, joined the armed forces, opened any bank accounts, or taken out a marriage license. His driver’s license had expired a year after he disappeared and had never been renewed. At the time of his disappearance he had no points on his license and no criminal record. Since then, there had been no activity in his checking or savings accounts; the balances in each were a few hundred dollars. No income taxes or property taxes had been paid in seven years. None of this distinguished Daniel Wilson from somewhere between ten and fifteen percent of the population. I would need a lot more than this to convince a judge he was dead. Toward the bottom of the pile I found an interim report by “JBF,” who I knew to be Jonathan Franklin, an investigator I’d worked with before. According to the report, at the time of his disappearance Wilson was thirty years old, short to medium height, wiry build, brown hair and eyes. Paper-clipped to the corner of the first page was a black-and-white wallet-size formal photo of Wilson in a suit and tie. From the date on the back, it was probably his law school graduation portrait. Assuming he graduated at twenty-five, the picture was twelve years old. I had visions of showing it and asking people if they’d ever seen an average-looking guy with glasses and brown hair before. It was a pleasant-looking face; maybe a little bland, but presentable. His cheeks were smooth and pink, and he looked closer to twenty than twenty-five. His glasses weren’t the wire-rimmed ones that were fashionable when I was in college, or the high-tech rimless models the yuppies wore now, but good old-fashioned ones, horn rimmed, with a heavy frame. He had the kind of face clients would trust. The family background was minimal. Wilson’s father had died when he was a child; his mother was still living and worked cleaning offices in Center City. She lived in the Overbrook section of west Philadelphia. There was one sibling, a sister, Lisa, two years older; a former nurse who now lived in a small town upstate. She’d been living in LA, if I remembered Louchs correctly. I figured her for a loyal daughter who’d moved back east to be close to their mother after Daniel’s death, or disappearance, or whatever it was. Neither Lisa nor Daniel had any children. Neither had ever been married. Franklin had come up with some more about Wilson’s grade and high school education. Wilson was consistently a superior student; not brilliant, but always near the top of the class. He was seldom absent, hardly ever late with work assignments, and never a discipline problem. Several of his high school classmates had been contacted; they remembered him as serious and hardworking. He played no sports but was active with the school literary magazine and the newspaper: He had a few dates, but no one remembered a steady girlfriend. Except to tell me that he’d attended Gettysburg College, was secretary of the Photography Club, and obtained a degree in history, the college section was a blank. I wasn’t surprised; in high school everybody knows everybody. But people are too busy in college to know more than a couple of people well. Investigating backgrounds at the college level is usually helpful only if the subject was very well known or if the school was very small. I was reading with only half my attention by then; I was trying to imagine what kind of man was behind that picture. And what was the judge going to make of him. I hoped he wouldn’t decide that Wilson was the kind of loner who would pull up stakes and disappear without a word to anybody. The next section was hardly more help. After college, three years at Temple Law School, graduating about one-third of the way from the top. He passed the bar on the first try and set up practice in Center City with a classmate, Leo Strasnick. When Wilson disappeared five years later, the partnership already had three associates, with offices in Philadelphia and Norristown. Nice growth. I rubbed my eyes and looked at my watch. It was nearly one, and this was the only business day before the day of the hearing. The rest of the file would have to wait. One of the advantages of Suburban Station was plenty of phone booths. My investigation got off on the right foot. Not only was Leo Strasnick available, he agreed to see me at four that afternoon. His office was only a few blocks from the station. I tried Shreiner’s next. “Shreiner Security Agency. How may we help you?” She sounded like a recording of herself. “Mr. Franklin, please.” “And whom may I say is calling? “She was good. If my gross ever broke into seven figures, I promised myself I would get a receptionist who talked that well. And to take lessons from her. “Just say I’m calling regarding the Wilson case. ” I was curious to see if that would be enough to get me through. “Yeah, this is Jon Franklin,” was all he said, but it was enough. Something was bothering him. His words were unnaturally clipped, and his voice was too loud and too fast. “Hello, Jon, this is Dave Garrett–” “You said you were calling about Wilson?” “Yeah, right,” I said as casually as I could “Remember me, Jon? We worked together on those tools disappearing out of Sun Shipbuilding? I was–” “I remember. ” Then his voice got softer. “Dave, what do you have to do with this? We’re not in the Wilson case.” “I’ve just taken it over. ” There was silence on the other end. “I’ve read your report and I assume there’s more than you had time to put in writing. ” More silence. “Look, Jon, the case is coming up Monday, for Christ’s sake. Cut me some slack.” “You want some advice? Don’t take the case.” “The lawyer guaranteed payment,” I said, being deliberately stupid. I had a lot of practice at that. “No amount of money is worth it. ” I’d been expecting him to say that, but he was at the biggest agency in the state a fifteen-year veteran of the Philadelphia police. “Can we get together somewhere?” “I’ve told you all you need to know already,” he said, and hung up.” *** Excerpt from The January Corpse by Neil Albert. Copyright 1990 by Neil Albert. Reproduced with permission from Neil Albert. All rights reserved.

 

 

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MY REVIEW

Dave Garrett was disbarred. He couldn’t ever practice law again. He found a new niche as a private investigator and longed for a case he could really sink his teeth into. And he found it in a cold case. The mystery of what happened to another lawyer. He mysteriously disappeared seven years ago and on Monday will be declared legally dead. It’s Friday and Dave has his work cut out for him. He  wanted a serious case and he got it. Time is running out and the race is on to discover what happened to the missing lawyer while staying one step ahead of those who don’t want their secrets revealed…. at any cost.

This was quite the mystery. A cold case. A disbarred lawyer. And a whole lot of danger and events I didn’t see coming. I zipped through it. The main character, Dave Garrett was definitely the selling point in this book. He grew on me quickly. I liked his directness and his stubbornness. And I have a thing for cold cases. I like reading how the clues get sorted out and what truly happened brought to light. And the ending was a good one too. I’ve got my eye on this series now and am curious what comes next.

4 STARS

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About Author Neil Albert:

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Neil Albert

Neil Albert is a trial lawyer in Lancaster, Pennsylvania and this book is based on a real presumption of death hearing. He has completed nine of the projected twelve books in the series and hopes to finish with December within the next two years. His interest in writing mysteries was kindled by reading Ross Macdonald and Neil operates a blog with an in-depth analysis of each of Macdonald’s books, In his younger years he was an avid fox hunter. His best memory is that he hunted for fifteen years and was the only member not be to seriously injured at least once.

Catch Up With Neil Albert: www.neilalbertauthor.com Goodreads

 

 

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Can two Sleuths put these two puzzles together before college starts in September?

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Recruiting Murder

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A Brown & McNeil Murder Mystery Book 3

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by Frank Lazarus

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Genre: Murder Mystery, Crime Thriller

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The third installment in the Brown and McNeil Mystery Series
Lenny Goldstein and his company, Future Stars, evaluate high school and collegiate basketball talent and sell their rankings to colleges and NBA teams.
From its humble beginnings in 1975, Future Stars had grown into a behemoth; with fifteen NBA teams and seventy-eight colleges paying subscriptions for his rankings.
Lenny is semi-retired these days, with his son and son-in-law running the business until he gets a call from an old buddy in Newport News, who wants him to come look at a high school kid, Lincoln Anderson, in Emporia, Virginia. He believes this Anderson kid has been overlooked by everyone, including Future Stars.
Concurrently, Lenny gets a call from an old buddy, the iconic coach of Duke University, to see what he knows about the college decision of Tyler Longenecker, Future Star’s #5 ranked high school senior from a premier prep school in the tony Boston suburbs.
All seems to be going on script until graduation, when both Lincoln and Tyler are involved in a death and a roofie rape. Suddenly, Lenny’s getting calls about both kids.
Lincoln’s family is related to James McNeil in Philly, and they call him for help. James and his buddy, Detective Vernon Brown of the Philly PD, jump into the car and head South on I-95.
Can the two Sleuths from The Murder Gambit and The Phenom put these two puzzles together before college starts in September?
Once again, Author Frank Lazarus has produced a gripping, suspenseful story that will keep you off Netflix for a day or two.
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The Graduation Party of the Beaver Country Day School was being held at The Country Club in Brookline,
Massachussetts.
The dance had ended and Tyler Longenecker and Katie Reynolds walked off the floor together. Tyler was a
highly recruited basketball player who had recently committed to Duke University in the Fall.
Tyler asked, “How about going outside for some fresh air and a beer? I’ve got two tickets left.”
“Sure!”
They stopped by the bar and picked up two Samuel Adams, and Tyler led her outside. It was still mild
outside, and on a clear night, the stars and half-moon were shining brightly. “Wow, what a gorgeous night,”
he said; girls love that shit!
The headed to the pool area, and Tyler knew the cabanas were unlocked. They could have some privacy
there, at least for a bit. They entered and sat close to each other on a chaise lounge. Tyler raised his beer
bottle and toasted, “To our futures, Katie.”
Katie returned the toast, “To the Class of 2022!”
Tyler reached in and gave her a peck on the cheek. But he pulled back only an inch or two, waiting for her to
glimpse into his eyes. When she did, he looked into hers and slowly inched closer to her lips. Her mouth
opened invitingly, and he accepted the invitation. Their tongues found each other and explored. Tyler’s
arousal was now in full throttle, and it seemed that Katie was keeping pace. Her hand found its way down to
his zipper, but without opening it, she gently massaged it as it continued its growth. “Oh, Katie, that feels so
good; please don’t stop.”
She couldn’t and wouldn’t! She started unbuckling his belt as he reached around and began unzipping her
dress. By the time he had worked it down to her waist,Katie had slumped, and her body fell out of Tyler’s
arms, collapsing onto the chaise lounge.
Tyler froze for a minute, and then Nathan, Billy, and Sheldon entered the cabana.
“She’s out cold,” Tyler said. “Those roofies are quick-acting. Guys, I’m still hard; I’m going first.”
Lincoln Anderson had just dropped off two work friends and was heading home on West End Boulevard in
Emporia, Virginia. Lincoln had recently gone from an unknown basketball player to a full scholarship recruit
to Richmond Commonwealth University, thanks to the discovery by Future Stars, LLC.
BetweenTaylor and Greene Streets, he saw a bike lying on the road. A strange place for an abandoned bike,
he thought. It was a narrow, one-way street, so Lincoln had to pull off onto the grass. He parked and got out.
He walked towards the bike, and as he got within ten feet, he noticed a young girl lying in the drainage ditch.
He ran over to her, knelt down, and gently pushed her to see if she was awake. There was no movement.
He ran back to his car and dialed 9-1-1 on his cell phone.
“This is 9-1-1; what is your emergency?”
“Yes, I am on West End, and a girl has fallen off her bike, and she’s not moving. I think she needs an
ambulance really bad.”
“Where on West End?”
“Right at Taylor and Greene.”
“And your name, sir?”
“Lincoln Anderson.”
“OK, Mr.Anderson, please wait for the ambulance and police, and do not touch the girl.They should be there
within five minutes.”
She hung up. Lincoln thought he should call home; hopefully, his dad could come over. He dialed his dad’s
cell.
“What’s up, Lincoln?”
“Hi,dad, can you get over to West End? I was driving home and saw a bike lying on the ground. When I went
over to it, there was a girl lying in the ditch next to it. I called 9-1-1, and they are on their way, but I hope you
can get here.”
“I’ll be right there, Lincoln. You did the right thing, but do not answer any questions until I get there. Do you
hear me? Is there anyone else there? Other drivers pulled over?”
“Not yet!”
“I’m on my way.”
Ten minutes later, a police car arrived, and Lincoln could hear the ambulance approaching behind them.
Lincoln got out of the car and walked towards the girl. Two uniformed police officers jumped out of their car;
one pulled his gun and said, “Halt right there, young man; put your hands up in the air?”
The other officer walked to the girl’s body and placed his hand on her throat. Heturned and said, “She’s
gone.”
They both walked towards Lincoln and said, “Keep your hands in the air. We just need to search you; do you
have a weapon?”
“No, I don’t have any weapon; what am I a suspect? I just saw the girl’s bike and stopped to see if I could
help.”
The officer frisked Lincoln and then looked into his pockets. Out of his side pocket, he pulled out a small
pouch that contained a white powdery substance.“What’s this?”
“What do you mean? That’s not mine, whatever it is.”
“Turn around, smart Alec. We are taking you into the station for questioning; turn around; cuff him, Buddy.”
“Wait,what the hell is this? I ain’t done nothing.”
The officer grabbed Lincoln and forcibly turned him around. Lincoln stumbled,falling to the ground. One
officer kicked him in the butt, while the other pulled out a club and hit him several times on the shoulder.
“Now, are you going to get in the car peacefully, or do we need more discipline?”
Just then, Lincoln’s father pulled up and jumped out of his car, “What’s going on here? Why is my son on the
ground?”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Lincoln’s father, Dwight Anderson; who are you?”
“I am Officer Jerome Abbott, and this is Officer Buddy Wilkins with the Emporia Police Department. Your
son stumbled when we were putting the handcuffs on him.We are taking your son in for questioning about
this young woman’s death and this substance we found on him,” showing the white pouch to Anderson.
“Dad, whatever that is, it ain’t mine. This guy just reached into my pocket and pulled it out like it was a
magic trick. And they have been kicking and clubbing me.”
“Is this the way you treat all your suspects or only the Black kids? Lincoln let’s just go down the station and
get this sorted out. Don’t say a word. Officers, I’ll follow you, but do not ask my son any questions until I
arrive.”

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The Phenom

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A Brown & McNeil Murder Mystery Book 2

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Even before he has played his first game in high school, it would seem nothing can stop Bo Campbell’s meteoric rise to stardom in the basketball world. In Philadelphia, people are already comparing him to his Overbrook High School predecessor, Wilt Chamberlain.


But his dreams are suddenly shattered when he is arrested for the murder of his best friend, Sherman Claxton.

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Detective Vernon Brown, and James McNeil, his friend and Bo’s grandfather, search for the truth, but James goes rogue, and soon finds himself in the dangerous underbelly of the Philadelphia drug sub-culture, where the stakes are high and it’s hard to tell who’s friend and who’s foe.

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The Murder Gambit

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A Brown & McNeil Murder Mystery Book 1

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An unexplained death in a nursing home. A man falls from a balcony. A hit and run in the middle of a city street. An execution in a home. A woman collapses dead after a date.

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Five murders. Five methods. Five police jurisdictions.

What’s the connection?

Philadelphia-area detectives are under pressure to solve the murders, while dealing with their own issues.

Speeding like the lead car at Talladega towards a shocking conclusion, is The Murder Gambit a Shakespearean tragedy or a sinister reality?

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

I spent fifty-three years in the Financial Services and Life Insurance industry, never thinking much about writing a book or becoming a published author.

With possibly a couple of exceptions: thirty or forty years ago, I read that “everyone has a novel in them.” I once started one, and every five years or so, I add a sentence to it. Secondly, twenty years ago, I started writing a blog. It was private and only shared with friends and family. I considered it an outlet for my Seinfeldish sense of humor and titled it A BLOG ABOUT NOTHING.

I am working on a book that will be THE BEST OF THE BLOG; we’ll see if or when that comes to fruition.

I retired at the end of 2021 and kept busy with golf and COVID hibernating. Towards the end of 2021, a friend shared with me a novel that he had written but was unpublished. I decided to try it, and THE MURDER GAMBIT was born.

 

What is your favorite part of this book and why?

 

In THE PHENOM, there is a Lesbian seduction scene that I wasn’t certain I could write with any authority or conviction. It was so out of character for me, and I received a lot of questions about it from those who know me.

It may not be the highlight of the book, but it was the one I think of proudly.

 

 

What kind of research do you do before you begin writing a book?

I actually do more research WHILE writing than BEFORE.

For example, in my third novel, I have a potential murder in Emporia, Virginia, part of Greensville County. I needed to research how their court system worked.

And I am constantly on Google Maps, looking at streets, parks, churches, restaurants, etc.

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Frank Lazarus was born and raised in West Philadelphia and attended Overbrook High School, as you may have guessed from his writings.

After graduating high school, Frank spent two years in the U.S. Army during the VietNam War. After his service, he completed his

Bachelor’s Degree in Business Administration at St. Joseph’s University, in Philadelphia.

He was in the Financial Services and Life Insurance industry for fifty-three years before he retired at the end of 2021.

Frank has three adult children and five grandchildren.

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Website * Facebook * Twitter * Amazon * Goodreads

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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Twinkle Twinkle Au Revoir: A Mermaid Bay Christmas Shoppe Mystery
by Heather Weidner

 


Twinkle Twinkle Au Revoir: A Mermaid Bay Christmas Shoppe Mystery
Cozy Mystery
2nd in Series
Setting – Virginia
Level Best Books (January 16, 2024)
Paperback ‏ : ‎ 252 pages
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1685125328
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1685125325
Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CL5N91S9

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Love is in the air when Hollywood arrives in Mermaid Bay, and the town may never be the same.

Fans will do almost anything to get a glimpse of the actors or a chance to be an extra in the Love Channel’s “My Coastal Valentine.” Crowds flock to the cozy beach town from all over and business is booming for Christmas shop owner, Jade Hicks until the body of a testy reporter is found in one of the actors rooms. And if murder isn’t bad enough, someone tries to kill the show’s star, hunky Raphael Allard.

The cozy little beach town feels cursed, as the Love Channel threatens to pull out of the project. Jade and the gang, Lorelei, Peppermint Patti, Bernie, Chloe, and Neville the Devil Cat, have to solve the crimes before it ruins the town’s reputation and breaks the hearts of fans across the country.

About Heather Weidner

Through the years, Heather Weidner has been a cop’s kid, technical writer, editor, college professor, software tester, and IT manager. She writes the Delanie Fitzgerald Mysteries, The Jules Keene Glamping Mysteries, and The Mermaid Bay Christmas Shoppe Mysteries.

Her short stories appear in the Virginia is for Mysteries series, 50 Shades of Cabernet, Deadly Southern Charm, and Murder by the Glass, and she has non-fiction pieces in Promophobia and The Secret Ingredient.

She is a member of Sisters in Crime (Central Virginia, Chessie, Grand Canyon Writers, and Guppies), International Thriller Writers, and James River Writers.

Originally from Virginia Beach, Heather has been a mystery fan since Scooby-Doo and Nancy Drew. She lives in Central Virginia with her husband and a pair of Jack Russell terriers.

Author Links: Website and Blog / Twitter / Facebook / Instagram / Goodreads

  Amazon / Pinterest / BookBub / TikTok / LinkTree

Purchase Link – Amazon 

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TOUR PARTICIPANTS

January 16 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – SPOTLIGHT

January 17 – fundinmental – SPOTLIGHT

January 18 – Cozy, Suspenseful, and Sweet – SPOTLIGHT*

January 18 – #BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee – SPOTLIGHT

January 19 – MJB Reviewers – SPOTLIGHT

January 19 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

January 20 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

January 20 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – SPOTLIGHT

January 21 – CelticLady Reviews – RECIPE

January 22 – Guatemala Paula Loves to Read – REVIEW

January 22 – Baroness Book Trove – SPOTLIGHT

January 23 – Literary Gold – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

January 23 – Maureen Musings – SPOTLIGHT  

January 24 – StoreyBook Reviews – AUTHOR GUEST POST

January 25 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT

January 26 – Ascroft, eh? – CHARACTER GUEST POST

January 27 – Reading Is My SuperPower – AUTHOR GUEST POST

January 28 – Cozy Up With Kathy – REVIEW, CHARACTER GUEST POST

January 29 – Christy’s Cozy Corners – REVIEW, AUTHOR GUEST POST

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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The Clover City Files Mystery Series
by Barbara Howard

 


The Clover City Files Mystery Series
Cozy Mysteries
Box Set – 2 Books
1st & 2nd in Series
Setting – Fictional small town, Clover City (Mid-West, USA)
Independently Published (December 5, 2023)
Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 332 pages
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8870847580
Paperback ‏ : ‎ 245 pages
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8870316086
Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CP8P5DH1

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The Taste of Rain

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Novella, multi-generational, diverse, young adult, clean, cozy, college town.
In “The Taste of Rain”, we follow the story of Amira, a college student who works part-time as a health aide at a local nursing home. One day, she meets an elderly resident, Claire Stewart, who confides in her that her husband was killed years ago, but nobody believed her.

Amira is hesitant to believe Claire at first, but as she gets to know her better, she realizes that there might be some truth to her story. Amira decides to investigate the case and help Claire find the killer.

She must navigate through the complexities of the past and present to find the truth and bring justice for Claire.

Along the way, Amira faces challenges both personally and professionally. She must balance her college studies with her part-time job and her investigation. She also learns to confront her own biases and assumptions about aging and the elderly.

“The Taste of Rain” is a mystery that explores the themes of trust, aging, and justice. It is a heartwarming tale of the unlikely friendship between a young college student and an elderly resident, as they work together to uncover the truth, and solve a decades-old murder.

The Spice Code

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Culinary Cozy novella, multi-generational, diverse, young adult, clean, college town.
In the heart of a quiet college town, restaurant owner and chef, Raphael Parera, finds himself entangled in a web of deception that threatens not only his culinary career but his very life. Charmed by the enigmatic beauty of his new girlfriend, Isabella, Raphael is unaware of the darkness lurking beneath her captivating smile.

As their relationship deepens, Raphael suddenly disappears without a trace, leaving his cousin, Amira Cooper, frantic with worry. Unbeknownst to Isabella, he manages to send a cryptic message through a seemingly innocent bag of groceries – a silent clue hidden within a recipe’s ingredients.

Desperate to save her beloved cousin, Amira embarks on a perilous journey to decipher the clues concealed within the grocery bag. Will Amira decipher the ingredients’ hidden meanings in time to rescue Raphael, or will Isabella’s twisted game end in a tragedy that will forever alter their lives? Get ready to indulge in a mystery where every twist and turn will leave you craving more.

About Barbara Howard

Barbara Howard is the author of two cozy mystery series; Finding Home and The Clover City Files. Her stories feature a female amateur sleuth, diverse characters, and a dash of romance.  She is a first-generation tech geek turned master gardener. She returned to her Midwestern hometown after an extensive career as a Department of Defense Project Manager at the Pentagon and spends most of her time treasure hunting, spoiling her fur-babies, growing veggies, and plotting whodunits.

Memberships/Affiliations: Mystery Writers of America (MWA), Sisters in Crime (SinC), Great Lakes Fiction Writers (GLFW), Crime Writers of Color (CWoC), Gamma Xi Phi (GXP)

Author Links: Website / Facebook / Goodreads / Instagram / Pinterest / Blue Sky Social / Twitter

 

Purchase Links – AmazonBooks2Read

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TOUR PARTICIPANTS

January 15 – Read Your Writes Book Reviews – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

January 16 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

January 17 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – SPOTLIGHT

January 18 – Literary Gold – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

January 19 – Maureen’s Musings – SPOTLIGHT

January 19 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

January 20 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – AUTHOR GUEST POST

January 21 – #BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee – SPOTLIGHT

January 22 – Novels Alive – REVIEW – Both Books

January 23 – Ascroft, eh? – AUTHOR GUEST POST

January 24 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT

January 25 – Christy’s Cozy Corners – CHARACTER GUEST POST

January 26 – Reading Is My SuperPower – REVIEW – Both Books

January 27 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – SPOTLIGHT

January 28 – The Book Diva’s Reads – CHARACTER GUEST POST  

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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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The Black Leopard’s Kiss & The Writer Remembers by Laury A. Egan

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Category:  Adult Fiction (18+), 306 pages
Genre:  Literary, with magical realism
Publisher:  Spectrum Books
Release Date: Dec 16, 2023

Content Rating:  PG + M.  Language is moderate; scenes of attempted incest and lesbian encounter.  

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War and Mystery Beyond the Stars

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Outpassage

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by Janet Morris & Chris Morris

Genre: Science Fiction

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WAR AND MYSTERY BEYOND THE STARS

Sgt. “Det” Cox has just spent three years under psych observation on Earth; now that he’s out-system, he isn’t about to tell anyone he’s seeing aliens again. Paige Barnett has lost everything, even her name, because she knows too much about the rebellion spreading through the Earth-Space mining colonies.

Together Cox and Barnett stumble upon the mystery at the revolution’s heart and learn why the rebels are willing to die for it.

Is their discovery humanity’s worst threat or greatest gift? The authorities are willing to destroy whole planets to keep the revolution’s secret from reaching Earth… What’s to stop them from destroying two people

“The Morrises’ blend of fast-paced narrative and meticulous research into near-space technology makes a novel you can’t put down.”
— C.J. Cherryh

“Action sequences that would make any writer proud. OUTPASSAGE is a wonderful book.”
–David Drake

“OUTPASSAGE might just be the perfect science fiction novel.”
— Jack Williamson

Amazon * B&N * Bookbub * Goodreads

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PROLOGUE

Fourth World Nightmare

The sky was thin and the color of dirty motor oil, except where it exploded above their heads. Concussion was delayed in the thin air but the smell of roasting Rangers got to you right away, even through your air filters. The terraformers hadn’t done much of a job on this classified ball of rock before the corporation workforce moved in, the shit hit the fan, and a request for military assistance followed.

The request wasn’t denied, exactly, but it was rerouted to InterSpace Tasking Corporation’s security division, who sent out a deniable reconnaissance team — thirteen US Rangers sheep-dipped for hazardous duty under the command of Colonel “Mad Jack” Reynolds.

It was Reynolds whose charred flesh was sending up the stink that made Cox gag as he dove for cover. Long recon meant long odds, long distances, and long hitches, but nobody ever wanted to think it meant dying a long way from home.

Overhead, even through his flash-and-blast suppressing helmet, Cox could see the enemy coming in for another strafing run. Nobody ever thought the enemy was going to come at you with airpower, either, because there wasn’t supposed to be any hostile force out here that had airpower.

In Cox’s ear, Locke was screaming over the comm set: “… suggest you form up for extraction, sir, at the beacon.”

Cox huddled under an overhang of silicate, his rifle cradled against his chest and his knees pulled up, shifted enough to turn his head. “Reynolds?” he said into his comm-mic, just to be sure.

But there was no way the barbecued officer lying beside him, charred limbs askew, was going to answer. The airpower came over and Cox covered his head: his helmet’s recon pack had sent plenty of pictures already; he didn’t need to risk his life for one more shot of somebody shooting at him.

He needed to risk his life to get to the extraction point, and that was about all he could handle. “Hey Locke,” he yelled into his mic because the airpower was strafing what was left of Reynolds: “Reynolds is past it. I’m here by my lonesome.” Rock exploded near him. Reflexively, he ducked his head in the shelter of his arms, eyes closed, and said as clearly and calmly as he could, “But I’m real ready for an order to get the fuck out of here.”

“Then give it,” came Locke’s voice, laconic over the static and hard to hear because the sniper aircraft was coming back for another pass. “You’re the only friendly voice I’m hearing.”

“Falling back,” Cox heard his own voice say, and his body followed suit. He knew he was calling the roll as he got to his knees, then his feet, crouched under the overhang, listening hard for even a groan or a grunt in response.

But nobody came back to him over his comm-link. Thirteen guys, and of the twelve on his comm-link, Cox couldn’t raise a single one but Locke. He was poised, his thighs cramping, as he waited for what felt like the right moment to sprint across the scree, a mapping display already enabled on his faceplate that gave routing overlays to his target — the extraction site.

But through the electronics, he could see Reynolds. Behind the colored grid with its pulsing points and alphanumeric displays, Reynolds seemed to be moving.

Sliding along the ground, almost. Cox didn’t want to leave anybody behind that had a breath of life ….

He scuttled toward Reynolds, his pack scraping the ceiling of the overhang — scrambled close enough to see that not only Reynolds’ left arm and leg, but the left side of his skull, was burned away.

“Shit.” The shock of it propelled the Ranger out from cover, along the suggested track on his visor-display, as fast as he’d ever moved in his life.

But in the confines of his helmet, he knew what he’d seen: something moving; Reynolds moving. And he knew he was running from that vision as much as from anything else here.

Because there wasn’t anything else here. There wasn’t anything but some deep-space double-cross having to do with mining rights and racial hatreds spread across the stars.

It was the gang bosses against the cheap labor, was what it was. There wasn’t any alien life here, despite the security classification level of the planet designated X-31A, due to artifactual evidence. There wasn’t any alien life anywhere, not above the vegetable level — a century in space had proved that beyond a reasonable doubt.

Everything that seemed artifactual had, eventually, turned out to be natural, not intelligence-made. There wasn’t any reason for these IST honchos to be afraid of the boondocks on X-31A but the way they treated the contract laborers they’d trucked in here.

If Cox said different, he’d be in psych evaluation for the rest of his life — if he got off this shitball to have one.

It hadn’t been anything, not anything, that he’d seen out of the corner of his eye. It sure as hell hadn’t been a white, human-looking, delicate hand pulling Reynolds toward a wall of solid rock — coming out of a wall of solid rock.

It hadn’t. His lungs were burning despite the augmented oxygen-rich mix his recon pack was feeding him as he sprinted; he was sweating like a pig — sweating worse than his cooling system could handle. And, overhead, he heard a subtle change in volume that wouldn’t be subtle for long: the pursuit aircraft, laying down rivers of flame as it did a one-eighty, had sighted him. It was coming back.

With the bogey on his tail and nobody to answer to, Cox hit his jet-assist. It was a one-time-only, emergency move, but there was no way he could outrun that aircraft, not on foot.

The wrench at his shoulders was immediate, the grab in his crotch comforting. And then he was airborne himself, skimming across the ground toward the extraction point where Locke’s bird was already a dark speck lowering out of the filthy clouds.

Need to touch down before the transport does; got to watch his wash; wind-shear could crash him. You weren’t supposed to do this — it was against every rule in the book to jet toward an extraction point: gave heat-tracking to the enemy; gave random bad luck more of a chance to scratch you from the game-card.

He could still see the charred half of Reynolds’ face, the eye like a lamb’s eye that had popped up in his soup once during a Saudi tour. He saw it so clearly that when the enemy screamed overhead, ignoring him and going after Locke in the pickup craft, it didn’t bother him any.

Not even when Locke’s VTOL exploded in a gout of dirty orange flame, because he could still see Reynolds inching along the rock like he was alive, that hand clamped on him.

And then he couldn’t see anything, not for a long time, because something shorted his helmet’s system and the ground hit him, hard, in the face.

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Love Science Fiction?

For readers that are out of this world and can’t wait to find out what the future holds –

All SciFi books at Perseid Press are discounted for the month of January!

Get them now before they’re light years away…..

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https://bit.ly/3RLP2hs

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GUEST POST

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What is something unique/quirky about you?

 

Together we breed Morgan horses. We consult with Morgan breeders to help them choose crosses to their stock to achieve a desired result.

We are also musicians; Janet plays bass guitar, Chris sings and plays guitar. We have an album on MCA records. Look for Christopher Crosby Morris on Soundcloud or N1M.com

 

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

 

Janet wrote her first novel, High Couch of Silistra in 1975; a friend sent it to an agent who chose to represent her; she had already written the second book in the Silistra Quartet and her agent told her not to disclose that until they finalized the contract for the first one. When the publisher learned of the others, Bantam Books bought the succeeding three. When the fourth book was published, the series already had four million copies in print. Suddenly Janet was a novelist specializing in environmental, gender, historical and political subjects. In the process, Chris started as her editor and ultimately a co-writer. Since then, she and Chris have co-authored many books.

 

Who is your hero and why?

 

Heraclitus of Ephesus, a pre-socratic philosopher, whose Cosmic Fragments foreshadow our knowledge of reality and how to perceive it. Among his precepts is the statement that change alone is unchanging. We’ve worked Heraclitus’ fragments in here and there throughout our books.

 

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

 

All of them. We write cinematically, our books are vivid adventures we undertake without knowing the destination.  I, the Sun, The Sacred Band, and Outpassage are particularly suited to film. The Threshold Series is a feast of opportunities for today’s special effects creators.

 

What inspired you, to write Outpassage?

 

Outpassage — Many wonder if somehow salvation lies in the stars. In Outpassage pawns of industry are kidnapped to work on a distant mining colony. Waking from their long space voyage, they quickly discover strange properties in the surrounding straits of rock being mined for rare minerals needed for advanced tech production on Earth. Mysteriously, some miners die in questionable circumstances and reappear, coming to life and causing rebellion among their fellow contract laborers. Is this the result of natural conditions or supernatural forces? Outpassage takes you there to see for yourself.

 

Who designed your book covers?

 

The cover of Outpassage was created for Perseid Press by Vincent DiFate.

 

Advice to writers?

 

As for advice to writers, here is all we know: write the story you want to read. Start at the beginning, go to the end, and stop. Seriously. From start to finish you must inhabit the construct in a manner that makes the reader choose to continue; if we as writers can’t feel what it’s like being there, our readers can’t either. Close your eyes, look at your feet where they are standing on the story’s ground; tell us what you see. Tell us what you hear. Ask at the end of each paragraph ‘what happens next?’. If you lose touch with it wait until you’re back inside it. Tell the story that comes to you, and from you, to us.

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Best selling author Janet Morris began writing in 1976 and has since published more than 30 novels, many co-authored with her husband Chris Morris or others. Most of her fiction work has been in the fantasy and science fiction genres, although she has also written historical and other novels. Morris has written, contributed to, or edited several book-length works of non-fiction, as well as papers and articles on nonlethal weapons, developmental military technology and other defense and national security topics.

Christopher Crosby Morris (born 1946) is an American author of fiction and non-fiction, as well as a lyricist, musical composer, and singer-songwriter. He is married to author Janet Morris. He is a defense policy and strategy analyst and a principal in M2 Technologies, Inc. He writes primarily as Chris Morris, but occasionally uses pseudonyms.

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Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Bookbub

Amazon * Amazon * Goodreads * Goodreads

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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choice of print or ebook copy of Outpassage ,

$10 Amazon giftcard

– 1 winner each!

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

 

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  Vivienne in Paris by Maria Castellucci Moore
Category:  Children’s Fiction (ages 5 to 9), 38 pages
Genre:  Children’s Book
Publisher:  Mascot Kids
Release date:   May 2, 2023
Content Rating:  G.  Suitable for everyone.

Book Description:

Vivienne in Paris follows a young Parisian girl on a journey through Paris to find what makes her tick. Join Vivienne as she discovers the sights, smells, tastes, and sounds of the city that make her feel alive. What better place to explore, observe, and delight in her senses than Paris?

This book tells a story of mindfulness and insight into how the surrounding world can really move you. It unites curiosity, wonder, and marvel to enlighten, surprise, and tickle your deepest spirit. Sometimes it’s the smallest things that bring you the greatest joy.

Buy the Book:
Mascot Books
Amazon ~ B&N
add to Goodreads
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MY REVIEW

It starts as a normal Sunday In Paris for Vivienne.  She begins her routine with a visit to see her grandfather in Luxembourg Gardens. Her normal day changes when he asks her to visit her usual stops on her bicycle ride and really stop to smell the roses, use her senses and find the thing that makes her heart sing. So, off she goes, stopping off for a delicious croissant, some cheese that melts in her mouth,  a new hat for her Grandpa, a taste of the opera and finally she found that which made her heart sing.

What a wonderful ride through Paris. Vivienne introduced me to her favorite places and I experienced her delight. I’m getting close to retirement and my best friend and I are going to Paris to treat ourselves. This book will come to mind as I walk the streets of Paris. Perhaps I’ll see Vivienne?

The illustrations are beautiful and Vivienne is a lovely young girl. It was a pleasure to experience Paris with her.

5 STARS

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Meet the Author:

Entrepreneur, first-generation American, writer, and mother to four children, María strives to bring passion and enthusiasm to all her endeavors. A lover of all things European, María has found great passion through her travels to Paris, Italy, Spain, and South America. Her affection for winemaking, foreign languages, the arts, ballroom dancing, and traveling has given María a unique and grateful perspective on life. Her love for her family and helping others through charitable giving has enabled María to thoughtfully curate purposeful life adventures.

María Castellucci Moore earned her bachelor of arts degree in finance from Dominican University on a tennis scholarship, and later pursued studying at New York University and the London School of Economics with a focus on global affairs. In 2016, with her siblings, María founded Castellucci Napa Family, a luxury wine and real estate brand. María runs her wine label and a family real estate development company in the greater Bay Area. She is a board member of the San Francisco Opera Guild and is enthusiastic about building opportunity and community through the arts.

connect with author: website facebook instagram goodreads

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Vivienne in Paris by Maria Castellucci Moore Book Tour Giveaway

 

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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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I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the ISN’T SHE GREAT by Elizabeth
Teets Blog Tour hosted by 
Rockstar Book Tours.

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Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

 

 

ISN’T SHE GREAT: Writers on Women Led
Comedies from 9 to 5 to Booksmart

.Author: Elizabeth Teets (Edited By)

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Pub. Date: January 16, 2024

Publisher: Read Furiously

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 142

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Find it: GoodreadsAmazon, B&N, Indigo, BAM, Bookshop, Powell’s, Blackwells 

 

A love letter to women-led comedies. 

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Based on Elizabeth Teets’s program series called “Isn’t She Great” at the
Hollywood  Theater, this anthology is a collection of the most beloved
female-centric comedies and the  audiences who adore them. From 9 to 5 to
Romy and Michele to the iconic Elle Woods, the  essays in this
collection build on our devotion to these films and continue the
conversation  around funny women and how these characters have shaped so
many talented writers. 

As Elizabeth Teets reminds us, there is a specific power in a funny
woman. A woman who  dares to laugh at the world and at herself. These
movies made us strong and smart and  sexy (and bend and snap a lot). At
the end of the day, we remind ourselves when the world  only tries to let
us have a little – a little money, a little confidence, a little joy – to go
out and  get the whole enchilada. 

Isn’t She Great is for anyone who loves movies and feels the glamour in pink. Cult
cinema  and film criticism will never be the same. 

 

 

 

 

Guest Post:

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Top 5 favorite books

Weetzie Bat – Francesca Lia Block

My cat is named after this spectacular little novel that changed my life forever. A punk rock fairy tale with all the glitter, magic, and fashion a girl could dream of. The essential Los Angeles novel. Francesca’s prose sticks to my rib cage like toffee. Every year I go back and read it like it’s the first time. It is a literary crème brulée. It just keeps getting better and better.

 

Slow Days, Fast Company: The World, the Flesh, and L.A. – Eve Babitz

Eve Babitz made me a writer, with her honesty and fearless take on the world. Allegedly she wrote this breathtaking collection to impress a guy she wanted but couldn’t pin down. Whoever he was, she was too good for him because this is a masterpiece. But I also love a woman who knows her talent and ambition are tools of seduction.

 

My Life as a Goddess: A Memoir through (Un)Popular Culture – Guy Branum

There are plenty of pop culture essay collections but I truly believe this one is the best. Branum gives his reader so much permission to enjoy life and all its frivolities. It has so much passion and pizzazz and reads like an honest conversation with a friend. I revisit the audiobook often for road trips.

 

Cometbus (Zine) – Aaron Cometbus

Aaron Cometbus is probably the greatest American writer nobody really knows anything about. I collect as many copies of his zine as I can get a hold of and have since I was a teen. I originally started reading for the punk band content and then because of Aaron’s skills as a writer and interviewer, I realized I did want to know about the history of kosher dairy restaurants. A good writer can pull you into any world and make it interesting. I have many copies in my collection but my favorite will always be “The Loneliness of the Electric Menorah.”

 

Valencia – Michelle Tea

Is there anyone better than Michelle Tea? I honestly don’t think so. She may be the most interesting woman alive with the best turn of phrase. Every single sentence on the page stands alone and makes you cry, laugh, or fills you with the desire to set your insides on fire. Valencia has the most powerful prose and is so full of heart. Books should be a moor in the storm and Valencia has gotten me through hurricanes.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

 

“You Must Always Have Faith in Yourself – Legally Blonde, and My Mommy, and Me”

Legally Blonde was the first movie I saw my mother truly love. This was not to say she didn’t love other movies – there were many she did. Growing up, my mother had a small collection of VHS tapes she loved that she would let me watch regularly. But none of them compared for how much she seemed to love Legally Blonde.

Despite her very refined palette for cinema, I don’t think she ever considered film an interest of hers. And although she may not have realized it, my mother had curated in our living room a sophisticated collection of the finest 90s and early aughts cult classics. We had copies of Mermaids, She’s All That, A Very Brady Sequel, and Tommy Boy. But Legally Blonde, oh she loved that movie.

At ten years old, I took notice of how Reese Witherspoon as Elle Woods, Legally Blonde’s perky sorority girl, made my mother laugh. I love anything that makes my mother laugh. After seeing my mother latch onto a piece of candy pink cinema filled with outfits, I too became obsessed with the film. As a future comedian, I paid attention to anything that made my favorite person laugh.

I also love Legally Blonde – it is undoubtedly my favorite movie. I know every line, every outfit, and every major decision I have ever made in my life has been while driving in my 2006 Kia Optima while listening to the absolute banger of a soundtrack. Elle Woods is the best character within modern cinema. She is layered, complicated, fabulously styled, unable to be bamboozled and full of grit. I was lucky enough to grow up with my own Elle Woods, my mom..

…At my mother’s beginning, or at least the beginning as it concerns me, her daughter who watched her every move, she was a single mom who had me at nineteen. This meant as a child I got to see her early twenties, her own Elle Woods years. Although she was never a member of a sorority with a tiny dog, I can’t imagine people talked to her that differently. Aren’t all stereotypes we put onto women pretty much the same?

 

“The Whole Enchilada” 

It [Isn’t She Great film series cohosted with Anthony Hudson] has been the project I have been most proud of in my time as an artist. Not only for the opportunity I have been able to give the performers (for many it is the first time they have performed for a sold out theater), but for the connections I have made with the audience. By showing my favorite films, I have been able to connect with them in a new way; I hear the audience howl at a joke I have heard so many times I no longer recognize it and get to laugh again. I often see that the struggles and challenges the women face in the film are the exact same struggles and challenges of the audience. By seeing Elle Woods or Andy Sachs overcome, it feels like we too can carry on, maybe all we just need is to dress a little better and hold our heads up a little higher. Or maybe like Bridget Jones, we are already perfect exactly as we are.

In 2018, prior to the start of my own series I went to the Hollywood Theatre to watch a sold out screening of 9 to 5, the 80s workplace comedy starring Lily Tomlin, Jane Fonda, and Dolly Parton. In the iconic film, exhausted by their toxic work culture, the women form a plan to get back at their sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot of a boss. Naturally, their original plan goes horribly wrong, and a comedic adventure ensues. Throughout the wacky eighties hijinks, together with their skills, cunningness, gingham blazers, and the power of female friendship, they are able to get back at their boss and make a more pleasant and equitable workplace. And live in corporate capitalism happily ever after.

It is a movie they rarely let women make. Each actress plays a truly unique and fleshed out character, none of them have love interests that are relevant to the main plot, and no one dies or goes to prison or falls in love with someone they originally thought was an asshole. For once women are allowed to go on a journey and this time we can also bring our friends. The movie addresses sexual harassment, the unpaid extra roles women play in the workforce, and the glass ceiling in ways even movies made today shy away from.

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About Elizabeth Teets:

 

 

Elizabeth
Teets is an Oregon born writer, comedian, screenwriter, and  fashionista.
Her work has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, New York  Times, Repeller,
Catapult, Reductress, and more. She lives in Los Angeles  where she is
waiting for her group chat to respond.

Subscribe to
Elizabeth’s newsletter! (scroll
to the bottom of the page)

Website | Twitter | Instagram | TikTok | Goodreads

 

 

 

 

Isn’t She Great Contributors 

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Megan J. Kaleita is an essayist and memoirist living in the PAC Northwest. Her debut essay collection,
This  Book is Brought to You By My Student Loans is available through Clash Books. Her work has appeared in  Ravishly, Hello Horror, Daily Drunk Mag, Luna Station Quarterly, and Lady Spike. Do not ask her for coffee. She  won’t get it for you. 

Samantha Mann is a Brooklyn based essayist. She is the author of Putting Out: Essays on Otherness.
She  edited the anthology, I Feel Love: Notes on Queer Joy.  

Meg Walters is a Canadian-British writer currently living in London. Her writing has appeared in
GQ, The  Daily Beast, Vulture, Cosmopolitan, Glamour and others. She is a great lover of classic films, rom-coms,  period dramas, pop culture, books and style and tries to write about them all as often as possible. Find her  on Twitter @wordsbymeg 

Toju Adelaja is a Nigerian-British writer and chick-flick connoisseur. Her work has appeared in
publications  such as Glamour U.K. and Black Ballad.  

Ella Gale is a writer, director, and comedian in Los Angeles. Her work has appeared in
McSweeney’s,  Reductress, and the Hard Times. 

Michele Theil is a journalist focusing on culture, race, LGBT+ issues and investigative pieces.
She has been  published in VICE, Insider, Glamour, and others. She watches all the Bring It On movies at least once a  year. 

Lana Schwartz is a writer who was born and raised in New York City, where she continues to live
today.  Her work has been published on The New Yorker, McSweeney’s, Shondaland, Glamour, InStyle, and more. Her  book “Build Your Own Romantic Comedy” was released by Ulysses Press in March 2020. For more about  Lana – as well as instructions on how to pronounce her name – visit www.lanalikebanana.com. 

Yaël Krinsky is writer and comedian based in Boston, where she works in TV and Film Production.
She  holds a writing and performance degree from Bard College. She currently lives with her dog Midge. 

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1 winner  will receive a finished copy of ISN’T SHE GREAT, US Only.

Ends January 31st, midnight EST.

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Tour Schedule:

Week One:

1/15/2024

Two Chicks on Books

Guest Post

1/15/2024

@jaimerockstarbooktours

IG Post

1/16/2024

#BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee Blog

Spotlight/IG Post

1/16/2024

Kountry Girl Bookaholic

Guest Post/IG Post

1/17/2024

Lady Hawkeye

Excerpt/IG Post

1/17/2024

FUONLYKNEW

Guest Post/IG Post

1/18/2024

A Dream Within A Dream

Excerpt

1/18/2024

@fiction._.fuss

Excerpt/IG Post

1/19/2024

Rajiv’s
Reviews

Review/IG Post

1/19/2024

GryffindorBookishnerd

IG Review

Week Two:

1/22/2024

@callistoscalling

IG Review

1/22/2024

Confessions of the Perfect Mom

Review/IG Post

1/23/2024

@anitralovesbooksanddogs

IG Review

1/23/2024

Lisa-Queen of Random

Review/IG Post

1/24/2024

Country Mamas With Kids

Review/IG Post

1/24/2024

Kim’s Book Reviews and Writing Aha’s

Review/IG Post

1/25/2024

@enjoyingbooksagain

IG Review

1/25/2024

A Blue Box Full of Books

IG Spotlight

1/26/2024

Books
With a Chance

Review/IG Post

1/26/2024

The Momma Spot

Review

 

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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.

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Nerd Meets Curvy organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

The author will award a winner a book box with the stunning hardback special edition with sprayed and stenciled edges, a dual-sided dust jacket, and custom swag. Don’t forget to enter!

Nerd Meets Curvy

by A. C. James

 

 

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Synopsis

Coralie dreads starting over, but Mystic River beckons her home like a siren’s call. Armed with determination and a toolkit full of DIY magic, Coralie sets out to revive her grandmother’s worn-down house. If anyone can breathe new life into the old walls, it’s her. And with lifelong friendships awaiting her, she has a support system as sturdy as a bear shifter’s embrace.

Little does she know that her homecoming will launch her into the wildest roller coaster ride of midlife dating and a mating bond that makes her head spin faster than a tornado. Coralie certainly hadn’t signed up for this level of excitement, but here she was, courtesy of the enigmatic mastermind herself, Mrs. Wilde. The queen of matchmaking and the architect of the notorious Peculiar Hearts Dating Agency promises Coralie a spicy rebound for her upcoming high school reunion.

Enter Jax, a scorching hot bear shifter haunted by a love that’s gripped him since high school. Just when he finally has a shot at settling down, a pesky ex-harpy swoops in, flapping her wings and causing more drama than a forest full of squawking birds. Tired of the chaos, this bear is ready to throw in the towel and hibernate for good!

But as they say, fate has a wicked sense of humor.

Beneath the surface of his chance to make things right and rewrite history are secrets that could detonate like a ticking time bomb, threatening to shatter their fragile bond. Coralie holds a haunting secret buried deep within her heart. It shapes the choices that molded her into the fierce, curvy woman she is today. As for Jax, his past is a murky labyrinth of pain and darkness. Lives and love swing on a high-stakes pendulum as danger closes in.

Can Coralie and Jax beat the odds, untangle the mystery of the danger stalking them, and build a future that defies the limits of their pasts?

Enjoy this peek inside:

Eleanora settled across from Coralie at the kitchen table, her shrewd gaze sweeping over her with an unapologetic curiosity. Coralie couldn’t help but feel anxious with anticipation. After all, this was the renowned Mrs. Wilde, the matchmaker extraordinaire. If anyone could navigate the treacherous waters of her love life, it would be her.

“So, how’s your sex life?” Eleanora blurted out, her straightforwardness causing Coralie to nearly choke on her tea.

Jessie’s warning about Mrs. Wilde’s blunt nature had been an understatement, to say the least. But Coralie had come to the Peculiar Hearts Dating Agency for a reason—to find love, even if the thought made her stomach twist with uncertainty.

Summoning her courage, Coralie straightened her posture. She met Eleanora’s inquisitive gaze with a defiant spark in her caramel-colored eyes and a touch of humor snarking her voice. “Nonexistent.”

Eleanora nodded, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Her words carried an air of understanding as if she had already seen Coralie’s romantic future unfold. “I figured as much. That’s why you’re here, my dear. Seeking a second chance at love.”

Relief flooded through Coralie, grateful she didn’t have to delve into the messy details of her past relationships. Eleanora seemed to possess an innate sense of what she needed. It brought a flicker of hope to Coralie’s weary heart. Could she truly open herself up to love again? Memories of her disastrous ex still lingered, fresh like an open wound that refused to heal. It had been two long years. She had remained closed off, unwilling to expose herself to the vulnerability that came with dating someone new and opening up to them.

Returning to Mystic River had been her escape, a refuge from the pain she endured. The house she inherited from her grandmother became her project, a labor of love and distraction. For months, she toiled away, dedicating herself to the renovation. It was a way to create her own haven and a means of avoiding the potential heartache that came with opening her heart to another. She had convinced herself that she didn’t need anyone else, not after the wounds inflicted by her ex.

About Author A. C. James:

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New York Times and USA Today bestselling author A.C. James writes paranormal romance and erotica, including Eternal Ever After (rebranded as Eternal Lover), featured in the bestselling Spice Box anthology. Her Ever Dark Immortals Series, which begins with Eternal Lover, has been described as “brimming with sensuality” and “romantic and sizzling hot.” The Isle of the Horse Shifters series starts with Ride: Awakening and is “lighthearted,” that is a “joy ride from beginning to end.”

She resides in the Philadelphia suburbs with her adoring husband Ron (aka Mr. A.C. James), who loves her imaginative yarns and punny sense of humor. She’s also a domestic violence advocate and discusses intimate partner violence and addiction to raise awareness on social media and through her writing. Many of her books include themes like alcoholism or addiction. If you love books that feature underdogs and redemption, her stories will capture your heart.

She spends most of her time drinking large vats of coffee while wrangling kids by day and writing by night. Recovering video game beta tester and tech geek who grew up going to cons and watching SmackDown. There’s probably some cosplay pictures around somewhere of her dressed up as Bloodberry from Saber Marionette J. Just don’t tell anyone.

Connect With Me: Newsletter / Reader Group / Facebook

Facebook Fan Page / TikTok / Instagram / Website

Purchase Link: Amazon

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

Author A. C. James will award a winner a book box with the stunning hardback special edition with sprayed and stenciled edges, a dual-sided dust jacket, and custom swag.

Go HERE to enter.

Giveaway ends January 31st.

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

.

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Fashionista’s Playbook organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Candi Scott will award a randomly drawn winner a $50 Amazon Gift Card. Don’t forget to enter!

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

Fashionista’s Playbook

by Candi Scott

 

 

Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

The door to the New York fashion world shut firmly in her face, Moriah Stanhope’s only option seems to be to return to her small-town home as a failure. At least, she would go home in disgrace, but her car was just repossessed. In front of the hottest guy she’s ever seen.

Travis Madera is supposed to hire an assistant. One with qualifications and experience. Someone who won’t be starstruck by the fact he’s a professional football player. But he never could resist a damsel in distress, especially one with all those curves.

Moriah’s been humiliated in front of guys like Travis before. But as his assistant, she has access to every moment of his day-to-day life, so surely she can stay ahead of any potential problems.

Until the past comes rushing into the present.

Enjoy this peek inside:

“Travis…” I whispered, half questioning-half pleading.

He jerked his hand away and sat up straight on the couch. “I’m sorry, Moriah. I didn’t even realize—”

I placed my fingers against his mouth, the heat of his breath rushing across the digits. My touch was so sudden, it surprised even me. His lips were warm and oh so kissable. My pulse hammered away against my ribs, desire blazing through me. I would have kissed him, but Travis was completely still, his face an unreadable mask.

When he didn’t react, I pulled away. I’d made a mistake, misread his touch, something. Panic turned to sheer horror. “Oh my God, I’m sorry.”

His hard exterior softened and he grabbed my hand. He sighed a bit, half-closed his eyes, then brushed his lips across the tips of my fingers in the softest kiss.

I relaxed a little.

“When you touch me, it makes me want things I can’t afford.” I offered weakly, not trusting myself to say much more.

From behind thick lashes, his eyes darkened; an intimate change of his features that spoke to me in a truly primal way. He kissed my fingertips, stroked his hand down my wrist and back up before rubbing small circles against the beat of my pulse.

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About Author Candi Scott:

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Candi Scott is the spicy contemporary pen name for award winning author of Two Hearts, One Stone and the Arkadia Fast Series, Leslie Scott. She has been writing stories for as long as she can remember. The happier the ending, the better. Currently, she lives and writes amidst her own happily ever after with her soul mate, son, and domestic zoo.

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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.