Archive for March, 2024

 

Join Us for This Tour from Feb 19 to Mar 8

Book Details:

  Sam Says: You Are Born To Shine by Sam Hirschmann
Category:  Children’s Fiction (Ages 3-7), 38 pages
Genre:  Children’s Picture Book
Publisher:  Mascot
Release date:   February 2024
Content Rating:  G.  Suitable for everyone.

Book Description:

Shine bright and don’t ever dim your light. These are the words Sam’s mom tells her every night.

When Sam begins at a new school, her classmates make fun of her colorful clothes and vivacious dance moves. Not letting her inner light dim, Sam shows them that the joy you exude when you’re unapologetically yourself is contagious!

In Sam Says: You Are Born to Shine, readers learn the power of expressing their true selves.

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

Sam is a nine year old girl just starting at a new school. Most kids would be nervous, but with her Mom’s encouraging words, she not only isn’t scared, she shines.

I loved how in the beginning, when Sam first meets her classmates, she’s the only one illustrated in color. As the kids become curious about Sam and her obvious excitement to dance, they start joining in and they too are then illustrated in color. And such fun, bold outfits they donned.

A girl after my own heart, I wish I’d known someone like Sam when I was in school. I was insecure and worried what others thought of me and my school years were miserable. It wasn’t until high school that I found my own self and began to shine. Bravo to the author for ‘painting’ her character in courage and passion. I could almost hear the music and the kid’s laughter. I’m sure I’d have been tapping my feet and joining in if I’d been there.

This was a delightful story with an important lesson and I wish every child had their own copy so they could also shine.

5 STARS

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Meet Author Sam Hirschmann:

Sam Hirschmann is the creator and writer of Sam Says: You Are Born to Shine, and is a true dancer of life. After playing Division I volleyball and working on the trading floor in New York City, she decided to take an acting class, which Sam thanks for sparking her journey into seeing life in color.

She left finance to study acting at the William Esper Studio, which took her down the path of finding her true self and how to authentically let her light shine in every situation. While pursuing acting, Sam began teaching Breathwork classes and sharing her insight on social media in hopes of inspiring others to find their joy within and to let their inner light shine.

connect with author: website ~ instagram ~ goodreads

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SAM SAYS: YOU ARE BORN TO SHINE by Sam Hirschmann Book Tour 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.

 

Join Us for This Tour from Feb 26to Mar 15!

Book Details:

 Gratitude

Two Hundred Short Poems

by A. H. Morris

Category:  Adult Fiction (18+), 214 pages
Genre:  Poetry
Publisher:  BluePen
Release date:   Nov 2023
Content Rating:  PG-13 +M

Book Description:

Travel through the human condition with succinctly worded verses that linger long in your mind even after you’ve closed the book. These poems offer a different perspective and a lovely way to view the world.

Buy the Book:
AmazonB&N
add to Goodreads

Meet Author A.H. Morris:

A.H. Morris was born in NYC in December of 1949. He lived there until he married for the first time in 2006. He and his wife, Melissa, moved to New Canaan, Ct where they continue to live. His first book of poetry, Secrets of the Universe, was published in the fall of 2000. His daily meditations are the source of inspiration for these poems.

connect with author: X ~ facebook ~  instagram goodreads


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GRATITUDE; TWO-HUNDRED SHORT POEMS Spotlight Book Tour 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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Today Vivi Barnes, Christina Farley, and Amy Christine Parker and Rockstar Book Tours are

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revealing the cover for THE THIEF OF TIME, their new middle grade contemporary fantasy

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book which releases May 7, 2024! Check out the awesome cover and enter the
giveaway!

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On to the reveal!

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THE THIEF OF TIME (The Library Of Alexandria Series #1)

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by Authors: Vivi Barnes, Christina Farley, and Amy Christine Parker

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Pub. Date: May 7, 2024

Publisher: Infinity House Creative

Formats:  Hardcover, Paperback, eBook

Pages: 312

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Find it: GoodreadsAmazon 

 

The Thief of Time is a
thrilling contemporary fantasy that will steal your breath away. Chock full of
complex world building and magic that springs from the power of story, this
book will definitely keep young readers turning pages.”—Polly Holyoke,
Award-winning author

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Unleash the Magic…

THE THIEF OF TIME is an exciting middle-grade contemporary fantasy adventure
that takes readers on a thrilling journey through the realms of magic,
friendship, and self-discovery.

On a visit to their local library,
Ben, Bridgette, and Maya unwittingly unleash a dragon from an ancient book and
find themselves fighting for their lives against a swarm of evil birds. They
battle to escape with the help of the dragon and are whisked through a portal
into the magical Great Library of Alexandria.

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Once they pass the Trials and prove
themselves worthy, they are invited to become students at Helicon Academy.
There they train to become librarians for the Library of Alexandria, protecting
books and the magical artifacts within.

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Ben, Bridgette, and Maya fall in love
with the story-themed dinners, fantastical animals, and fictional characters
roaming the halls. But when they discover a dark and sinister mystery within
the academy’s halls, the three must embark on a quest to protect the library
and preserve the fabric of time itself.

 

 

REVIEWS:

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“Every so often, you read a book with a fictional place
that is so full of magic and so full of wonder that you want to live there
forever — the library in The Thief of Time is such a place. You’re in
for a treat!” —Sarah Beth Durst, award-winning author of Spark

 

What a ride! The Thief of Time whisks readers from the
immortal Library of Alexandria to adventures across the globe. Maya, Ben, and
Bridgette kept me reading to the very end! —Sarah McGuire, author of Flight
of Swans
and Valiant

 

We all know books are magic, but in The Thief of Time,
they are beyond our expectations! This adventure jumps right in with our
protagonists facing an adventure, both physically and mentally, unlike any
other I’ve read. Fans of Land of Stories and magical school books are going to
devour this new twist on what it means to truly get into a book. —Kellee Moye,
librarian

 

 

Enjoy this peek inside:

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Chapter 1

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Polly Definitely Doesn’t Want a Cracker

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Ben

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The first weird thing Ben noticed was the birds. 

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Clustered in bushes around the front of the library, they
watched with unblinking beady red eyes as he made his way up the steps.

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“To be, or not to be…gone!” he said loudly, clapping his
hands at a pair that was preening on the steps in front of the door. They
hopped only a few inches away and fixed Ben with a baleful stare.

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Ben shook his head. Here he was, quoting Hamlet at
creepy birds and returning an almost-overdue book on a Friday night when there
were probably ten end-of-summer parties going on—or at least two that he was
invited to. 

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He yanked the door open and stepped inside. Mr. Lozano, who’d
been the town librarian ever since Ben could remember, was scanning barcodes
from a tall stack of books. 

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“Hey, Mr. Lozano.” Ben slid his book across the counter. 

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Mr. Lozano caught the book and added it to the stack. “Just
under the wire, Benjamin. Your dad wouldn’t be happy to come pay another late
fee.” 

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“I know.”

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Mr. Lozano picked up a magnifying glass to peer at the book.
With the plaid bow tie and pencil mustache, Ben thought he looked more like a
Scotland Yard detective than a librarian.

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Mr. Lozano peeled off the outside cover that was titled
“Practical Science.” Ben inwardly groaned. He meant to remove that before
returning it. Underneath the cover was a copy of Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

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Mr. Lozano sighed. “Your father still giving you a hard
time?”

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Ben shrugged. His father was a surgeon and thought Ben should
be studying math and science, not “farting around with theater and poetry,” as
he liked to say. It was just easier for Ben to pretend he was more scientific
than he was.

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His mom would’ve understood him better. Not a day went by
where he didn’t think about her and wish she was with him again, reading
Shakespeare’s sonnets like she did when he was little. The gentle lilt of her
voice always lulled him to sleep.  

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“I know what you’re going to say,” Ben said. “I’ll talk to
him again, and—”

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“Mr. Lozano, that astronomy book isn’t here,” a girl
announced as she walked up and set a stack of books on the counter. She looked
familiar, maybe from school. She wore an old Texas Rangers baseball T-shirt and
had a short mop of auburn curls, pale skin, and thick round glasses that made
her green eyes seem extra-large. 

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She shrugged her oversized military-looking green backpack
off her shoulders and plopped it on the counter next to the books. “It was due
five days ago. I’ve been on the waiting list forever.” 

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“I’m sorry, Bridgette. I’m sure the person will bring it back
soon.” Mr. Lozano glanced at the clock over the desk. “Unfortunately, the
library’s closing so I can’t help you find something else right now.”

.

“Can’t you call them? Fill out a police report or something?”

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“Excuse me.” Someone with two long dark braids squeezed
between Ben and Bridgette, her hands cupped around a small ball of fur. A
volunteer badge was clipped to the sleeve of her light blue shirt. “Mr. Lozano,
I think Griffin’s sick. I’m really worried about him.” 

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This girl Ben knew. Everyone knew Maya Friedman, who moved
here last summer from Israel and within a month of their sixth-grade year
became one of the most popular kids at Harrison Middle. Her braids had kind of
become her trademark. Ben hated to admit he was jealous, but no matter how many
times he’d styled his sandy blond hair or even dyed it, he’d failed to get a
trademark “look.” This girl showed up with two long braids and perfectly tanned
olive skin and everyone was like whoooooaaaa. 

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“Who’s Griffin?” Ben asked.

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“One of the library’s animals.” She held up a small ball of
brown fluff. “Does he look a little lethargic to you?” 

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Bridgette shrank away. “Keep it away!”

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Maya pulled it to her chest protectively. “He’s just a little
guinea pig. He won’t hurt you.”

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“I know.” Bridgette pushed her glasses up the bridge of her
nose. “Its scientific name is Cavia
porcellus
.” Her face flushed as Ben stared at her. “I read a lot.”

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“Poor Griffin,” Maya cooed to the ball of fluff. “That girl
didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” 

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Bridgette frowned. “I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. I’ve
just never been near one before.” She reached out and awkwardly patted its tiny
head with one finger. “Good boy.”

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Maya smiled at her, then glanced at Ben. “I think I know you
from English class. Ben, right?” 

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Ben nodded. “You’re Maya.”

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“And I’m Bridgette,” Bridgette said from the other side of
Maya. “I mean, if anyone wanted to know,” she added softly. 

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“No one wants to know,” another voice piped in.

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Ben cringed as the awful Davey Singleton swaggered over with
a group of his friends. Davey had been Ben’s nemesis ever since Ben was cast as
the lead in the third-grade rendition of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and
ended up with a terrible case of stage fright, puking all over a kid in a tree
costume. Davey took over the role for the rest of the show and still delighted
in tormenting Ben about it. Worse, he seemed to beat out Ben for every lead
role since then.

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“Awww look, it’s Shakesfear,” Davey said. “Library’s
closing, Shakesfear. Go barf somewhere else.”

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Ben rolled his eyes. “Hang in there, Davey. One day, maybe
you’ll actually come up with something original.”

.

“Hey, Maya, you going to Drew’s party?” one of the girls in
the group asked. “Davey’s ditching but you should come.”

.

Maya brightened. “Sure, after I close up here.”

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“And, um, change shoes?” the girl said as she stared at
Maya’s scuffed black combat boots. “Where’d you get those?”

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Maya’s face reddened. “My aunt gave them to me when we left
Israel.”

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Ben got the feeling she never wore those boots in front of
her friends.

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“Sorry, you’re not invited,” the girl said to Bridgette as
she and her friends walked out the door, laughing.

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“Like I was interested anyway,” Bridgette mumbled, looking
away.

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“Lozano, we have to leave,” Davey said. “When are you going
to kick these nobodies out of here?” He pushed through the half-door of the
counter and came back with a brown leather suitcase.

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“Where are you going?” Ben asked.

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“None of your business.”

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“We’re fine, we’re fine.” Mr. Lozano glanced again at the
clock. “We have ten minutes.” He nodded at Ben, Bridgette, and Maya. “You kids
head home now. Library is closed. Maya, thank you
for taking such great care of the animals. And Bridgette, tomorrow maybe I can
help—”

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A loud crack sounded outside of the library. Everyone jumped.
Bridgette squealed and pushed closer to Ben, who was rubbing his ringing ears.

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“What was that?” Maya said, cradling the chirping Griffin
close.

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“Lightning?” Ben suggested.

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“It’s not even raining,” Bridgette pointed out.

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“Quiet.” Lozano held up a hand, frowning. 

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Something dark moved against the frosted glass of the front
door. Ben heard tiny scratching and tapping noises, which got louder and louder
until it sounded like hundreds of birds were trying to claw their way through
the door. 

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Ben covered his ears, his heart leaping into his throat as
the birds shrieked and screamed.

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Mr. Lozano yanked open the door to the circulation desk.
“Everyone, get behind the counter.” 

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“Don’t have to tell me twice!” Davey pushed through the
opening, almost knocking Bridgette over with his suitcase. 

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Another crash sounded at the door and more dark figures shot
past the frosted windowpane, bird silhouettes with feathers and crooked bills
that almost looked like creepy noses. 

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The door wobbled and shook as if someone was trying to get
inside but didn’t know how to use the handle.

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Mr. Lozano yelled into his phone, “They’re here! I don’t know
how. We need an R.E.R. team now!”

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He gestured to Ben and the others. “Gather round and take
hands. Now.”

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More banging at the door. Davey kept his hands on his
suitcase. Bridgette grabbed Ben’s hand, her eyes wide with fear. He squeezed
hers with a reassurance he didn’t really feel and felt Maya take his other one.
He really hoped his palms weren’t sweaty.

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Lozano glanced at the clock. “Hold on. And…now!”

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Everyone watched as Mr. Lozano stepped one foot into the
empty wastebasket next to the wall. 

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And waited. 

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Mr. Lozano pulled his foot out of the basket, then stepped in

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again. And again. 

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Ben cleared his voice. “Um, Mr. Lozano, you okay?”

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The librarian grabbed the phone, beads of sweat breaking out
across his forehead. “It isn’t working. We need a car!”

.

With a loud smash, the glass in the door shattered, and large
black birds with creepy red eyes started clawing their way through the window
with long, almost fingerlike talons. Ben yelped and Bridgette screamed.

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“Into my office!” Lozano yelled as a flurry of black feathers
cascaded over them. “I’ll handle this.”

.

The kids scrambled into Mr. Lozano’s office and slammed the
door behind them as birds thumped against its frosted glass. A single black
feather floated in. Ben grabbed it and shoved it in his pocket. “That’s one
less feather you’ll have to fight with,” he yelled at the door, not caring how
weird he sounded. This whole thing was terrifyingly weird.

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Ben turned around, realizing he’d never been in Lozano’s
office before. It was like something from another century—old bookshelves,
weird telescope-looking things, and ancient leather-bound books piled on a
table. A low humming sound seemed to be coming from them. Ben rubbed his
ears. 

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Screeching from right outside the office made Ben forget all
about the humming. The birds hurled against the window. Thump! Thump! Thump!
The glass started to crack. 

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“We need to hide.” Bridgette yanked her backpack onto her
shoulders. 

“Behind there!” Ben ran to the heavy oak desk on the far
wall. Bridgette and Maya followed. 

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Davey crouched behind a plush chair near the door, clutching
his suitcase. “Make them go away,” he whimpered.

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A crash sounded on the other side of the door. Ben clamped
his eyes shut, hoping Mr. Lozano was okay.

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“Griffin!” Maya cried out.

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Ben opened his eyes to see the guinea pig running at top
speed toward a crack in the wall. Maya started after him, but Ben grabbed her
arm. “He’ll be fine. We need to stay together.”

.

The square glass window in the door shattered. Davey threw
his hands over his head as the birds flew directly at him. His screams pierced
the air. Ben gritted his teeth together. No matter how awful Davey was, Ben
couldn’t just hide like a coward while birds were trying to kill him. This
wasn’t a third-grade play. This was real.

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“We have to help him. Distract the birds,” Ben told Maya and
Bridgette. 

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“How?” cried Bridgette. “It’s not like we have bird seed.”

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“Hey!” Maya called out, standing up and waving her arms. 

.

“What are you doing?” Bridgette yelled at her as birds flew
toward them. 

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Ben crawled across the floor to Davey, where a bird was
flapping over his head, poking him with its beak. He grabbed Davey’s suitcase
and threw it at the bird. The bird dodged it, shrieking.

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“Hey, that’s expensive,” Davey cried out. 

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“So’s our lives!” Ben yelled as more birds converged around
them. He grasped for the nearest book, an ancient one with a dragon etched into
the leather and the imprint of a harp-looking instrument stamped on it. Ben
flung it at the birds. The book landed with a thud on the ground, open. 

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Everything went completely still. 

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A gust of wind whooshed through the broken window and caught
the pages, turning them fast and then faster. The humming he heard earlier grew
louder in his ears. Ben gasped as sparks flew out of the pages like sparklers
on the Fourth of July.

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A column of fire-red flame shot up from the book. Something
huge, red, and terrifying burst from the center of it.

 

 

 

About Vivi Barnes, Christina Farley,
and Amy Christine Parker:

Vivi Barnes, Christina Farley, and
Amy Christine Parker
are
best friends who bonded over their love of telling stories and going on
adventures. They live in sunny Central Florida with their families, where
inspiration is just a beach day away.

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SOCIAL MEDIA

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Instagram

@amychristinepar

@christinaLFarley

@vivibarnes

 

 

TikTok

@AmyChristineParker

@ChristinaFarleyAuthor

@ViviBarnes82

 

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

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1 winner will receive a $25 gift card to the book vendor of their choice, International.

Ends March 14th, midnight EST.

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the WALKIN’ THE DOG by Chris Lynch Blog Tour

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hosted by Rockstar Book Tours.

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

 

 

WALKIN’ THE DOG

Author: Chris Lynch

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Pub. Date: March 12, 2024

Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

Formats: Hardcover, eBook

Pages: 240

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Find it: Goodreadshttps://books2read.com/WALKIN-THE-DOG

 

“Lynch is back and better, smarter, and funnier than ever.” —Jacqueline
Woodson, National Book Award Winner

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A boy learns how to be a friend from man’s best friend in this funny and
moving middle grade novel about humans being able to change and dogs changing
us from acclaimed author Chris Lynch.

In a family of strong personalities with very strong points of
view, Louis is what his mother lovingly calls “the inactivist,” someone who’d
rather kick back than stand out. He only hopes he can stay under the radar when
he starts high school in the fall, his first experience with public school
after years of homeschooling.

But when a favor for a neighbor and his stinky canine companion unexpectedly
turns into a bustling dog-walking business, Louis finds himself meeting an
unprecedented number of new friends—both human and canine. Agatha, a quippy and
cagey girl his age always seems to be telling two truths and a lie. Cyrus, a
few years his senior, promises he’s going to show Louis how to be a better
person, whether Louis wants him to or not. And then there are the dogs:
misbehaving border terriers, the four (possible stolen) sausage dogs, the rest
of Louis’s charges, and a mysterious white beast who appears at a certain spot
at the edge of the woods.

Dogs and human alike all seem to have something they want to teach Louis,
including his menacing older brother who keeps turning up everywhere. But is
Louis ready to learn the lesson he needs most: how to stop being a lone wolf
and be part of a pack?

 

 

 

 

MY REVIEW

I’m a firm believer in dogs bringing out the best in those who choose to pay heed to them. Mostly by accident, Louis winds up walking dogs the summer before he leaves homeschooling behind and enters public high school. They have a lot to teach him, and so do Cy and Aggie, just two of the people he meets while walking the dogs.

I found this book both educational and just plain fun. The characters were so true to life and the hurdles Louis had to concur were daunting yet doable. For an introvert like Louis, learning to poke his head out of his shell and socialize wasn’t easy. The author brought him to life for me and included some strong side characters that made me excited to turn each page and see how things panned out.

And a shout out to the author for giving the dogs as much characters as the humans who, by the way, have some quirky, hilarious tags that go with their personalities. Got some snickers out of me. I have someone in mind to share this book with. I think he’d enjoy the characters and life lessons as much as I did.

5 STARS

 

 

 

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Enjoy this peek inside:

  1. The Inactivist

IT’S STILL DARK OUT WHEN MY DAD WAKES ME UP.

Things are supposed to go a certain way, and this is not that way. He’s a commercial fisher, and so should be out of  the house for several hours already by the time I wake up.  When I get myself up, which I’m perfectly capable of doing.

“Louis,” he says, leaning way down close and misting me  with coffee and bran muffin and fig and orange breath. Fortunately, I love my father and his relatively healthy diet. Later,  he smells different. Fisherfolk, yeah?

“I need you, son.”

This, along with the darkness, and the absence of my  mother from the house, is a bit unsettling.

My dad doesn’t need me, or anybody else, really. At least  he’s never said so before. He’s very seafaring that way. It  soothes me, his unneediness.

It’s technically not true, anyway. He doesn’t need me;  somebody else does. But Dad needs that somebody else, so  there you have it.

“I’m short a man today,” he says, “and Old Man Dan is the only guy around who knows what he’s doing and is also  available to give me an honest day’s work.”

Old Man Dan is Mr. Evans. He’s one of those guys you  hear about who have millions of “fish stories” about the one  that got away and the biggest thing that ever swam the sea.  Old Man Dan retired from actual shing without retiring any  of the fish stories, or the scent. They say he’s got a thing called  trimethylaminuria. They also say he reeks. Kind of guy my dad  avoids in the street or the supermarket aisle on account of  those stories more than the smell, so he must be in serious  need of Dan’s assistance on this occasion if he’s prepared to  listen to that stuff all day.

“Okay, can I ask why you’re telling me this, Dad?” I ask,  without really wanting to ask it.

“Because Dan says he can only go out on the boat today  if he can get somebody to look after Amos.”

Oh no.

Amos. Dan’s multi-breed mongrel, who seems less like a  real dog and more like a cross between a portly dingo and a  badger. Everybody but Dan refers to him as Anus, because of  the smell, which reaches you about twenty-four hours before  you’re anywhere near him.

“Oh, Dad . . .”

“Please, Louis. The poor thing can’t be alone for more  than a few hours at a time, ever since Dan’s wife passed away.  You understand, of course. . . .”

Ah, Dad. I mean, I don’t think he did it on purpose, but  he did it. He can hardly be unaware that his wife, my mother, is in the hospital, as she has been for too many days the past  year. He cannot be unaware, but he also cannot have meant to  use that as a point of leverage in this conversation.

His fractured face tells me as much. He caught himself  off balance just as badly as he did me.

“I’ll do it, Dad,” I say, brushing past him both impatiently  and affectionately as I climb out of bed. He squeezes my arm,  I squeeze his, and we both look away.

When I come out of the shower and make my way sluggishly to the kitchen table, it’s still not quite sunrise. My little  sister, Faye, is eating a bowl of cereal by the dim, warm glow  of the stovetop light. It’s a scene I’m not used to, and one I  find unexpectedly pleasant. Faye can be a bit harsh under the  full glare of day.

I’m thirteen, and Faye is eleven months younger. Irish twins, they call it, but we might as well be the regular kind.  She’s as old as me in every other way, if not older. There’s a  family legend that—because Faye was not exactly a planned  baby—Dad wanted to name her Daisy. As in, whoops-a-daisy.

“Oh, for cryin’ . . . ,” Faye exclaims, letting her spoon fall  out of her hand and clatter around the tabletop. She’s not  really that shocked to see me at this hour, but it’s still a pretty  good show.

I explain the situation to her, how Dad needs a fisher, and  that fisher needs a dog sitter.

“Anus?” she asks, incredulous, but not really. “Well, I  don’t know what you showered for, because that’s just soap  and water down the drain.”

“Oh, he’s not that bad,” I say, because why not just let her  swing away.

“Not that bad, Louis? Old Man Dan still smells like chum  after all these years, and he remains only the second-raunchiest  creature in that house. And you’re going over there? You know  that’s what killed Old Lady Dan the Fishwife, don’t you? She  died of stench. It was in the obituary. I read it.”

Always good value for money, my sister.

I shrug. It should be noted that I shrug a lot. It’s my official state gesture.

“I’m getting paid,” I say. “And Dad needs me to help him  out. Those are two sound reasons. Throw in kindness to animals and we’re well into bonus territory.”

Felt like I was doing pretty well, for a homeschooled  debater.

“Oh, you’re heading into bogus territory, all right,” she  says. “Seriously bogus. And I love Dad, and animals, as much  as you do. But you know what Ma would have to say about  that other thing.”

I forgot that I wasn’t even the best debater in the house. “She’d say I should do it for free,” I moan. “But Ma would  have everybody do everything for free, and that’s why we’re  poor.”

“Oh, we’re not poor, Louis; we’re just normal.” “Yeah, well, poor is not gonna be my normal, I’ll tell you  that.”

“Fine,” Faye says. “Tell me that if you need to tell me that.  I need to tell you that Ma is expecting to see you today. So, while you’re walking the dog and grubbing the money, you  also need to make time for a visit to your mother.” “I can do that.”

“Yeah, you can do that.”

“Yeah, Faye, that’s what I said.”

“Right, I was just helping. Sometimes you need help, to,  y’know, do things.”

This is all so wrong. Not inaccurate, but wrong. “Come on, Faye. Not when it comes to Ma.”

Ma is a great many great things. Foremost among them is  probably activist. She’s renowned for it. If there’s a cause that needs  activist, she’s there, and always has been. To the detriment, one  might say, of her personal health and well-being. She cares, about  everything, more than a rational person should. In my opinion.

By contrast, I have a nickname, and it was first bestowed  upon me by that very same activist Ma.

The Inactivist.

Kind of comical, and true enough, if not exactly flattering. I don’t much like getting involved.

“Would you have gone to see her today if I hadn’t  reminded you?”

“Of course I would have. But, anyway, wasn’t today supposed to be your day?”

“Ha!” Faye says, pointing through the air between us  sharply enough to nearly hurt my chest. Like she bagged me there. Which, possibly, she did.

“What, ‘ha’?” I say. “Today was definitely supposed to be  your day.”

“What, because they’re all my day? Because I’m the girl?” My choices here, as I see them, are limited and not good.  An honest answer to that does me no favors. Pausing too  long while I come up with something better presents its own  problems. It’s like verbal waterboarding, trying to argue with  Faye.

I aim for her not inconsiderable heart as a viable option  to battling her intellectually, which is no option at all. “Faye, I don’t like the hospital. It scares me.”

She slows down, out of kindness. I’d sort of prefer it if  she sped up.

“I know, Louis. And I understand. But, too bad. And any way, it’s not a hospital, so stop calling it that.”

She’s half-right, which is about 50 percent less right than  she usually is. Ma is staying at a place they call the Knoll.  But the Knoll is on the grounds of, and functionally a part  of, a whole hospital. It’s an inpatient program that lasts four  weeks. She’s done this thing before. Later, if she still needs  them, there are outpatient programs that also last four weeks.  She won’t need them, though. I’m an optimist. Dad says I am  pathologically optimistic. Meaning, I tend to believe that things  are gonna work out, on their own, without any help from me,  the way they should. Because they will, that’s why.

Ma is in the Knoll as a direct result of the fact that she  cares too much. About everything.

That’s an insufficient explanation, probably.

She works at a shelter called A Woman’s Place. Doesn’t  just work the place. Lives it. One of their managers. Often a night manager, which can be hard going. She’s a stellar person, a soldier. The single best person I’ve ever met, as a matter  of fact. All the pain of A Woman’s Place—and that is a world  of pain—is her pain.

She’s an inspiration to me. In a way she would never want  to be.

Meaning, I’m determined that what happened to her will  never happen to me.

The more streamlined story is, she was breaking up a  fight at the shelter one night. In the course of things, she  slipped and destroyed her knee. Shredded her ACL and  MCL. Such is the esteem in which my mother is held in A  Woman’s Place that everyone on the scene—including the  two combatants—dropped everything in order to care for  her on the spot.

That care took her eventually to City Medical Center.  And to surgery. And to lots of rehab and physical therapy. And pain. Lots and lots of pain.

And painkillers.

Which isn’t an altogether accurate word, is it? Pain doesn’t  die. I have seen pain, and I have never seen it die. So the pain got to my ma. And the painkillers got to the  pain. Then the painkillers got to Ma.

But it wasn’t just the knee, was it?

Dad, who has a way with words for a fishsherdude, put it  this way: Pain got to Ma. But the pain of pain got to her more.  Everybody’s pain got to her.

She cares too much, is what he meant. Like I said.

She broke, is what happened.

The job did it to her. Then being o the job double-did  it to her. She couldn’t stand being off the job—not helping  out. Helping everybody but her.

“Please, Faye?” I say because I’m out of anything more  convincing. “Can’t you do today?”

“I did yesterday,” she says.

“Yeah, but you could do today, right?”

“Right. I could. But I’m not going to.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you to.”

“Aw, that’s just—”

“And because Ma wants you to.”

Rats. And rats and rats again.

“She didn’t actually say that. Did she actually say that?” “She actually said that, Louis. She wants to see you. And  for you to see her. She knows you’re afraid.”

“And she wants to see me anyway.”

“Duh, Louis,” she says, and with those three  syllables wraps up the discussion.

Duh, Louis. She wants to see me because I’m afraid. Not  only because of that, but for sure it’ s partly because of that.

~~~~~

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About Author Chris Lynch:

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Chris Lynch (he/him/his)
is the award–winning author of several highly acclaimed young adult novels, including Printz Honor Book FreewillIcemanGypsy
Davey
, and Shadow Boxer—all ALA Best Books for Young Adults—as
well as Killing Time in Crystal CityLittle Blue LiesPiecesKill
Switch
Angry Young Man, and Inexcusable, which was
a National Book Award finalist and the recipient of six starred reviews. Chris is the author of middle grade novel Walkin’ the Dog. He holds an MA from the writing program at Emerson College. He teaches in the creative writing MFA program at Lesley University. He lives in Boston and in Scotland.

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Meet Chris! 

Tuesday, March 12, 2024 at 7:00pm ET

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In conversation with Caela CarterCathy Carr, and E.L. Shen

 

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A Blessing and a Curse

by Anna Campbell

 

Publication date: October 31st 2023
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

Blessing Savage barely remembers who she was before the unexpected death of her father, Pastor Savage. These days she clings desperately to the party girl persona she’s created for her second year of college, living with a new group of friends, joining their sorority, and partying non-stop. There’s only one thing that can kill her perpetual buzz, and his name is Camden Holbrook, the boy she’s pined for for nearly a decade.

Camden credits Blessing’s father for saving him when he was a child, giving him a place to stay when his mother abandoned him and setting him back on the right track. So when Pastor Savage asked a promise of Camden before dying – to look out for Blessing – he made a vow and meant it. Protecting Blessing has always come easily. Loving her has not. Not for someone who’s learned time and time again that love and loss are intricately interwoven.

After years of Camden keeping her at arm’s length, the last thing Blessing wants is him barging into her life. But new Blessing refuses to let Cam play knight-in-shining-armor, not when she knows – from one starry summer’s night slip-up – how he really feels about her. This time around, Blessing’s intent on pushing Camden’s limits, and she’s got some sexy new tricks up her sleeve to take him past them. Then maybe he’ll admit the truth of his feelings. Maybe the person who’s always known her best can help her find a way back to herself. Maybe she can prove to Camden that love doesn’t always destroy a person. Sometimes, it’s the only thing that can start putting them back together.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Homecoming (Now)

 

We follow her lead through the throng of people and around one large, chunky pile of pink-tinted vomit – eww – back toward the legitimate Homecoming festivities. We’re walking away from the tents, and suddenly Campbell is running toward them, eyes flashing with mischief, waving at us.

“Oh hey, girls!” she calls. “Look who I found at the game!”

The crowd parts, and I stop in my tracks.

So much for Camden not being at Homecoming.

There he stands, looking like a member of the student body, in sneakers, jeans, and a hoodie, except, of course, way hotter. There’s another guy with him – shorter, with red hair, eyes looking like they’re about to pop out of his head as the scores of scantily clad sorority girls walk past, occasionally bumping into him.

Camden looks me over from head to toe, my braided pigtails tied with red ribbons, the school shirt that’s been cut and tied so it sticks to my torso like body paint, the tiny shorts. His eyes flash with something – disapproval, frustration, want… maybe all of the above. Maybe none of the above. Then he forces his eyes away from me, though I see them jumping, trying to betray him and return.

Bella squeals. “Camden! Yay! What are you doing here?”

Campbell winds her arm around his bicep. I stare at it – it reminds me of a snake – and I really, really don’t like it there. “So I went back inside to get a slice of pizza, and guess who was right in front of me in line? I told him he had to come back with me, that that’s where the real party is.” She points to the other kid. “This is his friend. Jace, right?”

Jace nods like a happy puppy.

Camden clears this throat. “Couple of the other guys we work with are here, too.” He glances back toward the stadium. “The guy we’re working for gave us the tickets. I mean, obviously we don’t go here, but everyone said it was going to be a good game.” He carefully extracts his arm from Campbell’s grasp and stares at the ground.

I follow suit, feeling like a horrible person.

Remembering what I’d said to him when I discovered him working on campus, about how he didn’t really belong there. Now he feels the need to explain his presence, like he’s embarrassed about being at Homecoming. And suddenly, more than anything, I want to be the girl who gave him the Nike bag again, the girl who assured him of his worth rather than stripped him of it.

Campbell’s damn voice interrupts my thoughts. “Camden said he used to play football.”

Bella chews her lower lip and narrows her eyes. “I’ll bet. You lookin’ for a wide receiver these days, Camden?”

I look away, biting my cheek to keep from laughing. These girls are shameless. Good thing Camden’s well-versed in girls throwing themselves at him. I stop feeling bad for him. He can handle himself.

“Oh my gawd,” Alyssa shoves Bella. “Anyway, party’s over for us. We have to meet Maggie.” She pushes onto the balls of her toes. “We’re all going to get tattoos!” she tells Campbell.

I wince, anticipating the reaction before I even see it, or hear it.

And yup, there it is. Camden, suddenly right in front of me like a member of the King’s Guard, blocking our collective path. “Umm, Blessing’s not getting a tattoo.”

I snort. Because 1) Camden just told everyone what I was or wasn’t going to do and 2) he talked about me in the third person, like I wasn’t standing right there.

And suddenly? That girl who was caught between old Blessing and new Blessing? Jumps straight over to Team New Blessing.

My hands go to my hips. I toss my pigtails. “Yes, I am.”

“No, I don’t think you are.”

“I don’t care what you think. You don’t have jurisdiction over my body.”

That one really lights a spark. His eyes flash, and he takes a step closer. “Party’s over is right. It’s all good fun when you want to take your shots, and make your quippy little comments, but you’re not running off and getting a tattoo right now.”

I stab my index finger into his chest, right over his heart, right where I imagine its location to be. My voice is low and ferocious. “Really? You think you can fucking etch my father’s words into your skin and stand there and tell me I can’t do the same?”

Campbell lets out a low whistle. Alyssa grabs Campbell’s arm and gives her a tug, pulling her a few feet away. Bella’s watching the exchange with wide eyes, but catches on to their movement and joins them. “Yeah, I’m gonna just…”

Cam lowers his head toward mine, maybe an attempt to keep this a private conversation, but it ends with our foreheads practically touching, his eyes a mix of furious and pleading. “How far are you going to take this, huh? You’re going to do permanent damage to yourself?”

I glance pointedly at his forearm, at his tattoo. “Is that what we’re calling it these days?”

“You know what I fucking mean. A year from now, two years, whatever, you’re going to be in a different place. Hopefully. And I’m just trying to stop you from making a decision you might wish you’d made differently then.”

“It’s a tattoo, Camden. I’m not selling my soul to the devil.” I take a step back. Cross my arms over my chest. “You can’t physically stop me. You won’t go that far.”

I dare you…

He looks at me for a long time, assessing. Then he steps back. “Okay.” He nods, slowly. Then he calls to Alyssa, eyes on me. “What studio are you going to?”

“Wizard’s World.”

Camden groans, mutters something under his breath like “of course you are.”

“I’d recommend Stone’s Throw.” He’s still watching my face. “Blessing’s made up her mind, and I feel better about the safety measures there.”

I’ve made up my mind?

Shit. I swallow hard, hoping he doesn’t notice.

“In fact…” Now Camden’s digging around in his pocket. “You’ve all been drinking. How are you getting there?”

“Uber,” Bella answers.

He extracts his keys from his pocket. Throws me a challenging smirk. “If everyone’s minds are made up… I’ll drive you myself.”

Fuck. My. Life.

~~~~~

 

About Author Anna Campbell:

Spend more time with Anna Campbell and her stories on Instagram: @annacampbellstories

Anna Campbell has traditionally published several stories for teens over the years under a different pen name. Anna Campbell stories are mature YA/NA angsty stories about beatiful broken people who love hard and still believe in happy endings.

Goodreads / Instagram

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~~~~~

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For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

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Love Never Dies

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The Undead Wars

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A Cry in the Moon’s Light Book 2

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by Alan McGill

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Genre: Horror Romance, Dark Fantasy

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A LEADER WILL RISE AND A KINGDOM WILL FALL.

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The former Duchess of Harcourt lives a quiet life. The events of the Dark Forest are a distant memory. But evil does not forget so easily. The sinister Witch King has sent new creatures to find the remaining witches.
Gruesome murders plague the land as eerie Wolf Song echoes from the mountains. Is this the return of Seth? Or something else?

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Alessandra de Moreau must decide if she can work with those who killed her love, for only together will they be able to stop the Undead Army. But first, she will have to find the Dagger of Dark Silver and unravel the Mystery of the Wolf, if they are to survive The Undead Wars.

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**Get it for Only .99cents until March 6th!!**

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Amazon * B&N * Bookbub * Goodreads

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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The men and women of the East Side watched in horror. It was devastating to see creatures they thought destroyed come back to life. What hope did they have if something can bring the dead back to life again and again?

But worse than that, they watched the Phoenix bring their dead neighbors back to life. Only they returned as undead. The resurrection bird would swoop in tight to a dead corpse, use its wings to sprint straight up and pull the body back as a member of the Undead Army.

The charred corpses of those who died by fire would rise with amber eyes that shined against blackened skin. They all moved in jerky motion like the Skeletons, stumbling along and picking up weapons. The peasants were horrified and reluctant to fight someone they once knew.

Those who didn’t run or fight were cleaved to death. The Phoenix wasted no time bringing them back to fight. Their wounds were still fresh and oozing blood. As with the burnt corpses, they picked up weapons and attacked in those weird jerky movements.

The Phoenix passed over the areas where the Skeleton Soldiers had concentrated first before it made its way to Alessandra. The bird swooped down over the Skeleton she dropped. Its wings flapped hard, climbing high into the air, but nothing happened.

The puzzled demon looked confused. This was not something the Phoenix had encountered before. Determined to carry out its master’s order, the creature made another pass but still nothing happened. An eerie cry of frustration erupted from its beak.

The Witch King watched but was not surprised. The black glow intensified as he recalled his flaming pet. The Phoenix immediately looked at him and with a blood-curdling caw, swooped down angrily toward Alessandra.

Alessandra rolled out of the way as the flaming bird tried to ram her. It flew past, going straight into her home. The creature then burst through the roof, engulfing the entire structure in flame. This was the most searing heat she’d ever felt. It was so intense she had to step back.

She returned home to help her neighbors, but she also wanted to retrieve the dreamcatcher. It was the one thing the Drabarni gave her to commune with Seth. Everything she owned, including that, was now lost.

As she stood helplessly watching her house burn, a singular blue flame materialized in the middle of the blaze. The light was so bright she used a hand to cover her eyes. The color was very distinctive, unlike the other flames around it.

The heat from the fire subsided. It was still too hot to approach, but not as before. Her eyes adjusted, allowing her to see. The blue flames center now turned white.

A shadow figure appeared in the flame. The figure of a man slowly came into focus. It was Seth! The only man she’d every loved. The man she’d grown up with from Parlimae village. How was he here? He died on that beach nearly fifteen years ago.

He wore a long dark coat, knee-high boots, and grey pants. His long blonde hair was tied in a ponytail. His blue eyes took in the surroundings before turning to her.

Then she heard his voice. It seemed to echo in her mind. “You must find the Drabarni” then a pause. “Do not blame him. You must work together.”

“Seth! Who? Don’t blame who?” She yelled.

Seth voice distorted, “Go to the Red Door.” The last sounds began to fade as the image disappeared. Within seconds, he was gone. The blue flame consumed the white, then diminished leaving only the blaze that consumed the house.

Alessandra wiped the tears from her eyes. As the shock wore off, she picked up a sword next to the pile of bones. Her mind ran through memories of Seth. His face at the Abandoned Church. Her stitching his wounds after the battle with the Black Wolf. And she remembered the kiss just before they had to flee.

The warm remembrance went away as her thoughts turned to anger. Right after that kiss they had to flee. They ended up on that beach surrounded by an angry mob from Mercel. That was when the Hessian shot and killed Seth in front of her.

Thoughts of the Dreamcatcher filled her mind. She looked at her home crumbling under the fire, that very Dreamcatcher somewhere inside. It was gone.

Her eyes moved over the entire area. Buildings were on fire, the whole neighborhood in turmoil, and people desperately tried to escape. Skeletons chased many across the Stone Bridge. Not all were fast enough and died horribly.

She looked again at the road north next to the river. There were two Romani wagons leading a group away. With the hordes of skeletons on the Stone Bridge, she thought it best to join the Romani.

The Phoenix was now perched on the Witch King’s pike. Its flames subdued as it rested. The Witch King had observed the blue flame. He didn’t see Seth, but he knew magic when he saw it. Now he watched as Alessandra went north to catch the caravan of people fleeing.

His eyes glowed black again as he instructed his forces to cut off her escape. The Witch King was ordered his minions to bring her to him, alive. The silver dagger and the blue flame convinced him she was the witch he sought.

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A Cry in the Moon’s Light

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A Cry in the Moon’s Light Book 1

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In a time of castles, muskets, and hideous creatures of the night, a beautiful woman travels across the treacherous Dark Forest to be by the side of her dying grandmother. With only a young carriage driver to protect her, she must use her wits and all of her courage to cross the wild country—and to evade the mysterious beast who stalks her.

What follows is a tale full of horror, mystery, and romance: gruesome murders at a village hidden deep in the forest, a castle that holds dark secrets, and a black wolf leading a deadly pack. Nothing is as it seems, and this journey has only just begun. The beautiful lady in the carriage will learn that only love can defeat evil, but is it love or danger that cries out to her in the deceitful light of the moon?

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Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Smashwords * Bookbub * Goodreads

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A peek inside Chapter 3 – The Horror Begins

Several Minutes passed before the beast turned his gaze from the forest, satisfied the black wolf and his pack were gone. The air calmed, and the clouds moved away. The moon’s light returned, and the forest brightened. It was as if the beast had somehow cleared the sky when he defeated the pack.

He looked up at me with those glowing blue eyes. Large teeth still gleamed from behind a slight snarl. Saliva continued to drip from the edges of his mouth.

It was hard to catch my breath. The beast could easily reach up and yank me off the roof of this carriage. My musket still lay on the ground at his feet.

But just as the sky had changed, so did the beast. His snarl faded and his eyes softened. The look of rage left his face. After a few moments, he looked almost peaceful.

His gaze dropped from me to the carriage, where he no doubt found mi Lady. He didn’t approach her, though. Instead, the beast walked past the horses to the fallen tree. Each step shook under his weight and power. Not one of the horses moved. They still had whale eye, the whites visible beyond the black. But they had settled and started to calm. It was as if they understood him. Somehow, they sensed the danger had passed.

He walked to the giant tree that blocked the road, looked back at me, then pressed his shoulder against it. Battered and bloody, he pushed the massive tree aside. It took a few attempts, but he finally shoved the tree far enough out of the way that the carriage could pass. Then he stood up and looked back at the carriage.

I came down from the roof and picked up my musket. I pulled it to my shoulder, slowly taking aim at him. I was going to kill this thing before he decided to attack us.

Before I could pull the trigger, I heard the carriage door open and mi Lady step out. Soft footsteps slowly approached. As she passed me, she placed a hand over the barrel of my musket, lowering it to the ground. The whole time, she kept her eyes on the beast. He didn’t take his eyes off her either.

She let go of the musket once it was pointing down and started walking toward him. I whispered, “Mademoiselle, no!”

She slowly raised her hand and motioned that it was OK. In an expression of disbelief, I heard her whisper softly to herself, “It can- not be.”

She moved alongside the horses as he took a couple of steps back. She placed a calm hand over Arca’s mane then turned to face the beast as she removed her hood. I watched as they stood there facing each other. Her eyes moving slowly over his battered and bloody body, examining every wound. She winced at some of the tears in his flesh.

She reached out, with slight hesitation, to touch his face. A clawed hand met hers. Tears began to well up in her eyes.

He stepped back, pausing before taking off into the woods. She watched as he faded from sight. A teardrop fell from her eye. It slowly rolled across her cheek, finding its way to the ground. I could see it falling as if in slow motion. It landed in a puddle at her feet with a small splash.

The moment the tear hit the ground, a deep howl sounded in the distance. It was a cry of sorrow. A look of pain crossed her face, as if she felt the anguish in that sound.

The mood was somber. An immense sadness hung in the air.

Everything was quiet. The forest was still.

She turned, slowly walking back to the carriage. “We need to go.” Without another word, she stepped inside, shut the door, and dis-appeared into the shadows.

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**Don’t miss the companion books!**

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Red Door

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A Cry In the Moon’s Light Novella

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Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Smashwords * Goodreads

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Father Daniel’s Compendium of the Undead

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A Companion Novella to A Cry in the Moon’s Light

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Alan McGill is an American author who lives in Northwestern Pennsylvania with a clowder of cats. Alan was close to his grandparents who grew up in the Great Depression. They were married young and remained together until his grandmother’s passing. His grandfather served in the Navy during WWII and was a gifted storyteller who weaved humorous tales about tough events. Alan grew up with these stories of right and wrong along with watching fictional heroes such as The Lone Ranger, Adam West’s Batman and Captain America. Heroes who stood up to bullies and protected those who could not protect themselves. This made an impression on the author to always do what was right in his own life and shaped his love for storytelling. He is a multi-genre author with his debut novel being A Cry in the Moon’s Light which is a horror romance and mystery series. As with all his books, one of the primary themes involves characters who strive to do the right thing regardless of the adversity they face. The second theme present in all his books is love. A pure and deep love that defeats all evil.

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~~~~~

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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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These monsters are never-before-seen.

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These monsters bite, and don’t let go.

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These monsters aren’t your grandparents’ boogeymen, but they are not tame, and they want to climb right

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down into your nightmares and make you their own.

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Novus Monstrum

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The Midnight Zone Book 1

Edited by Douglas Gwilym & Ken MacGregor

Genre: Weird Creature Horror Anthology

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Mysterious, merciless, mirthful. New favorites await you in this superb anthology.”

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Johnny Compton (author of Spite House, Esquire best horror book of 2023 and Stoker longlister)

This may look like just a book, but NOVUS MONSTRUM could infect your brain, shake your sense of what’s real, change you forever. This is twenty-two all-original new monster tales from the greats: Jonathan Maberry, Joe R. Lansdale, Gabino Iglesias, Gemma Files, Gaby Triana, Ramsey Campbell, Jeffrey Thomas, Gwendolyn Kiste, and Lucy A. Snyder, plus thirteen stories from new names (see below) destined to become some of your favorite authors.

These monsters are never-before-seen. These monsters bite, and don’t let go. These monsters aren’t your grandparents’ boogeymen, but they are not tame, and they want to climb right down into your nightmares and make you their own.

Welcome to the new anthology series The Midnight Zone.

Ken MacGregor, editor of the Shirley-Jackson-Award-nominated anthology Stitched Lips and the uproarious Burnt Fur, teamed up with Bram-Stoker-Award-nominated short story author Douglas Gwilym, editor of Appetites and Harmony & Dissonance, to take you to strange and dark new places. They’ll ask you to go deeper and weirder than The Twilight Zone, to a place (like the real-world midnight zone, a mile beneath the ocean’s surface) where no sunlight penetrates. Join us as we explore the inhospitable, surprising, uncomfortable, bizarre, and otherworldly.

Go on. Dive in. Lose yourself to The Midnight Zone.

Also Featuring:
Amanda M. Blake
Joshua Bartolome
Matt Brandenburg
R.A. Busby
Marco Cultrera
E.C. Dorgan
Douglas Ford
Sarah Hans
Jamie Lackey
Donna J.W. Munro
Frank Oreto
Tim Pieraccini
Pris Sears

Includes:

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A Grace of Finer Form – Post-apocalyptic survival tale. The monsters are mutants: amalgams of living creatures, one so enormous it rivals the Titans of myth.

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Brother Bone – A giant, living skeleton that feeds on the skeletons of its victims (by ripping away the flesh and meat) and using the bone fragments to expand itself, in return granting its family effective immortality.

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First Day Jitters at Slappy’s – The monsters are living theme-park mascot characters. It’s far more disturbing than it sounds. This one is bonkers.

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God Damn You to Hell, John Glenn – The monster is a massive, mutated, extremely hungry…sea monkey.

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I Clean the Monster that Killed My Husband Every Morning – A vicious anti-pollution tale, the monsters are creatures that come up from below the earth and violently destroy any machine that creates pollutants, and whomever happens to be using them at the time.

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Lizard War – Translucent giant lizards swarming across the alien landscape. The “astronauts” are all women, and the main character, Eliza, who was the cook before everything changed but is now in charge, loses her lover Joan in a climactic scene. She floats out into space, “her blood hanging in drops around her like falling rose petals, her hair fanned out like a peacock’s tail….”

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Mother Ship – Machine/organic spaceship and her godspawn child.

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The Path of Skulls – Sexless, cube-headed simulacra and deep arcane mystery.

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Song of the Devil Trumpet – Quite lovely trees that trick you into eating their fruit so they can take over your body and repurpose you.

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Wonce was a Woman – The monsters are human female/office machine hybrids. A woman goes looking for a mythical monster woman who is foretold as a sort of savior–and ultimately finds it is herself.

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With an introduction by the amazing Jamie Flanagan, screenwriter for Haunting of Bly Manor, Midnight Mass, Creepshow, and Fall of the House of Usher, and original cover art by the astonishing Trevor Henderson, internet cult phenomenon, creator of Siren Head, and weaver of monsters!

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Amazon * The Dragon’s Roost Press * Bookbub * Goodreads

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A Grace of Finer Form – Post-apocalyptic survival tale. The monsters are mutants: amalgams of living creatures, one so enormous it rivals the Titans of myth.

“She… remembered a time when the animals weren’t… distorted… with extra limbs, eyes in the wrong places, wings or tails that don’t belong. But, to me, the two-headed chipmunk-lizard hybrid that scrambled up my sleeve… was as natural as any other thing in the forest. These twisted animals were all I had ever known.”

 

“[T]he massive thing on the horizon was closer, resolving itself into a towering titan’s form, still hazy in the dawn light. It was a person, but with too many limbs, too many faces, pearlescent skin shimmering in the sunlight, horrible and wonderful to behold. It was so tall its faces were wreathed in clouds like a crown. Around the titan’s head, winged creatures wheeled and dipped like a god’s heralds. At its feet, a retinue followed, at this distance appearing like a seething mass.”

 

“Its faces turned and turned so that each pair of eyes could behold me there…. It stood over me, five-breasted and seven-armed, three phalluses dangling between its many legs. What I had taken for a pearlescent shimmer at a distance was actually the oscillation of the vegetation that sprouted from the titan’s skin, long-stemmed mushrooms and coiling vines and bell-shaped flowers the size of a dog waving and juddering with each of the giant’s steps.”

“The wings of an eagle combined with the body of a lynx, but also the eyes of an insect, the paws of a raccoon, the tail of a snake. Horrifying and miraculous all at once.”

 

“Amber and Kelly ran, screaming. I followed them, pursuing them doggedly into the trees. I was faster, now, the titan’s tears making me an ideal version of myself…. I enclosed them in my embrace, my arms lengthening and my flesh stretching to encompass them wholly in the love of the goddess…. The titan’s tears melted their skin and melded it with mine. Our bones snapped together into one skeleton, our hair braided itself into one wild tangle. Amber and Kelly and I became one creature with six legs and six arms and three faces, weeping with terrible joy.”

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Are We All The Monsters?
a conversation with Douglas Gwilym & Ken MacGregor, editors of NOVUS MONSTRUM

Douglas:
Hey, Ken. What’s different? There’s… something in the atmosphere.

 

Ken:
Hey, Douglas. Is it…poisonous gas? No, wait. This is Valentine’s Day, so…it’s love, isn’t it? Love of monsters!

 

Douglas:
Nailed it in one. I think it’s safe to say we each have what you might call a lifelong love of things monstrous and impossible. What was your first monster true love? How old were you, and did the monster’s family approve?

 

Ken:
Well, I grew up on shows like The Twilight Zone (which should come as no surprise to anyone, since our current series of anthologies, The Midnight Zone, is clearly a deeply respectful homage to that) and Night Gallery, which scared the bejeezus out of me more than a few times. I read a lot of fantasy books, but was always drawn to the darker, more unsettling characters. In the Roger Zelazny Amber books, there’s a moment where he describes a person (Dworkin)  so powerful that his madness flickers across his physical being for a moment, terrifying the protagonist. That image has stuck with me for over 40 years. Man, I loved those books. I’m not sure if I’ve answered your question, but I’ll try to sum it up: I’ve always been drawn to the macabre, for as long as I can remember, and I’ve always loved monsters. And, I’m not one to care if the family approves: I’ll go Romeo and Juliet on that, probably with the same result as those crazy kids. What about you? First monster love?

 

Douglas:
Ooch. Ouch. I mean, the first truly monstrous beings I loved as a child were in sci-fi and fantasy. The salt-sucking mimic with the circular mouth of terrible teeth who posed as McCoy’s ex in the original Star Trek and knocked off crew member after crew member. The towering indifferent monsters of the kaiju “Creature Feature” on a tv station I could barely pull in after school. IT from A Wrinkle In Time, pulsating and terrorizing and making you (me!) its own. But it was Gollum, from reading The Lord of the Rings (and watching the Rankin-Bass Hobbit film), who made me a real convert to monsterdom. Gollum was just an ordinary hobbit like us, but the Ring and the darkness and the malice in his heart over 500 years turned him into a gruesome, strangling, blood-thirsty monster. Terrible as he is, the sympathy started to creep in with that guy. Prepared me for Alan Moore’s run of Swamp Thing comics to set the hook forever. Alec Holland was trying to do good in the world, was murdered and reborn in a way that estranged him from humanity forever… and made him a kind of a god. I mean, where do I sign?

 

So, hey. Ken. What does it mean to you if I say, “We are all the monsters”?

 

Ken:
I would interpret that to mean that humans are capable of monstrous things, which, if you watch, read, or listen to the news, is pretty clearly true. While I absolutely love monsters from fiction, and very much enjoy writing about them, I find the real-world monsters far more disturbing. I think each of us is capable of monstrosity. Even myself. I can clearly remember, after a car accident when I got hit in the head hard enough to give me grand mal seizures later, thinking to myself, “Oh. I should go kill that driver who just hit me.” It wasn’t an angry thought. It was calm, practical. Like, it was this thing I had to do to set things right again. That’s psychotic, and it terrifies me that a thought like that was ever in my head. The fact that I was ready to calmly commit homicide is quite alarming. Luckily, a cop car rolled up as I was heading to my task and my brain decided it would be better not to kill anyone today. I realize this was an injury-induced moment of madness, but it gave me pause. How many of us are just one angry customer, one failed credit card transaction, one hot coffee spilled on our thigh, from losing it and tearing out someone’s throat with our teeth?

 

Incidentally, I loved hearing about your early influences. I had completely forgotten about the lamprey-like monster on Star Trek!

 

Douglas:
That negative human potential is huge. I remember Stephen King saying something like “I write these things in a ‘knock on wood’ way, to keep them fiction and out of my real life.”

 

My take is, I’ll admit, a bit different. We’ve had the supremely good luck of getting to work with some talented folks for NOVUS MONSTRUM. Not just the nine authors we invited who are real forces in the genre, but the 800-ish writers who sent us submissions from around the world. I don’t know if I could get my hands on better data about what it means to be a monster, or what the idea of monsters means to us, as humans. I am left with the strong impression that being monstrous boils down to three things: being different, being outside the grid of usual human society, and–perhaps foremost–being powerful. I think we all have tremendous potential, we humans. And I think we’re all a little monstrous in our own way. But, like the monsters in the stories by Gwendolyn Kiste, Marco Cultrera, Sarah Hans, and others in the book, you can take that power, and that license to give zero you-know-whats, and do something monstrously positive with it. But, you know me, Swamp Thing got me early and got me good. We celebrate the monsters here, because monsters can be anything. Sometimes even the hero.

 

Love that you brought up The Twilight Zone. It’s subtle, and I think it would be easy for folks to miss, but the real-world “twilight zone” is an oceanographic term, referring to a dark, in-between place in the depths of the ocean, and so is “the midnight zone”. Just one shade deeper.

 

Ken:

One of the things that initially drew me to the term The Midnight Zone was, first, the homage to The Twilight Zone, naturally, but also that, in the midnight zone of the ocean, no light penetrates: it’s a place of eternal darkness, inhabited by nothing but predators and scavengers. What better setting for an anthology of monsters?! It is inherently creepy, oppressive, scary. So, we started with this vibe, this unsettling title for our series, and hit the ground running. When we settled on the theme for volume one, “original monsters,” it felt like the perfect fit. And the response from our invited authors, and the overwhelming enthusiasm from the open call for submissions, we could tell that we had hit on something pretty special. Whenever I’m describing NOVUS MONSTRUM to people who haven’t yet read it, I always say that these are honestly some of the best short stories I’ve ever read. There’s a reason these 22 made the cut, out of nearly 800 submissions. I couldn’t be more proud of this thing we created, Douglas, and I am absolutely down for doing it again. At some point. Once we’ve recovered from the year of working on this one.

 

Douglas:
A moment to breathe is always good. A chance to take the inspiration of working with storytellers of this caliber and supercharging our own writing? 🙂 I’ve got my own short story collection, They Take Our Best & Other Weird Tales, circulating with some of my favorite authors and accruing some wonderful blurbs. I’m also itching to get my latest novel in shape for the monstrous masses. What do you have in the works?

 

Ken:

My first story collection (and first ever book), An Aberrant Mind, was recently released to me from the publisher. So, I’m reworking it, bringing it up to my current standards, with the goal of self-publishing it sometime this year. It’ll be my first foray into that sort of thing, and I’m nervously excited about it. There are some other projects in the works, too, but they’re kind of too early to really talk about now. Don’t want to put the cart before the dead horse, or whatever that expression is.

 

Douglas:

Nice! May all your dead horses pull the carts you want them to.

 

And that leaves us with tales enough for another day, doesn’t it?

 

Ken:
It does. Incidentally, “All Your Dead Horses” is my new band.

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Douglas Gwilym has been known to compose a weird-fiction rock opera or two. His short story “Year Six” is on Ellen Datlow’s recommended reading list for Best Horror 14. He edited Triangulation for four years and now co-edits The Midnight Zone—forthcoming edition, Novus Monstrum, a collection of never-before-seen monsters, featuring original stories by greats, and new voices, in strange, dark fiction. He reads classics of the proto-Weird on YouTube and has been guest staff at Alpha Young Writers workshop. His short fiction appears in LampLight, Lucent Dreaming, Novel Noctule, Shelter of Daylight, Tales from the Moonlit Path, Penumbric Speculative Fiction Magazine, and Tales to Terrify.

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

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Ken MacGregor has written three story collections, an award winning young adult novella (Devil’s Bane), and has co-authored a novel (Headcase). He is a member of the Great Lakes Association of Horror Writers and an active member of the Horror Writers Association. He’s also written TV and radio commercials, sketch comedy, a music video, a one-act play, a scattering of poems, and a zombie movie. Ken has curated three original anthologies, one of which (Stitched Lips) was a finalist for the Shirley Jackson Award. His third anthology, Novus Monstrum, was co-edited with Douglas Gwilym. It is the first installment in the Midnight Zone series for Dragon’s Roost Press.

Ken is also a part-time literary assassin: he will write you into an original short story and kill you for money. Ken drives the bookmobile and lives with his kids, a fierce-but-cuddly tiger cat, and the ashes of his wife.

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He can be found at www.kenmacgregor.com.

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The Wilderness Trap

A Southwest Exposure Mystery

by Jodi Linton

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The Wilderness Trap (Southwest Exposure Mysteries)
Cozy Mystery
5th in Series
Setting – Bushwhack, New Mexico
Independently Published (February 28, 2024)
Print length ‏ : ‎ 164 pages
Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CL34N9JJ

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Don’t Just Book An Outdoor Adventure. Find Every BODY.

Andie Sullivan, Bushwhack’s true crime obsessed outdoor guide, never thought her old nemesis would be running the elementary school career day. She was supposed to discuss the great wonders of the outdoors, but when questions are brought up about her crime solving side gig, some locals aren’t impressed.

When career day turns to actual MURDER…Andie finds herself on the case, looking for clues only to discover Bushwhack’s most recent murder investigation might be connected to a decades old cold case.

Andie teams up with hunky boyfriend, sheriff Zac Mars, to piece together the elaborate puzzle, but finds herself tangled up in a web of lies. Can she juggle a thriving outdoor company, a blooming relationship with the town sheriff, and find her latest suspect before life comes crashing down leading the killer straight to her?

About Jodi Linton

USA Today Bestselling author Jodi Linton pens funny romances, whodunnits, and thrillers. She is the author of the Southwest Exposure Cozy Mystery Series, The Deputy Laney Briggs Series, and several standalone romances. She lives in the city with her husband and two teens. When she isn’t writing her next page-turner, she teaches and hikes.

Author Links: Website / Facebook / BookBub

Purchase Links: The book is KU – Amazon USAmazon UKAmazon CAAmazon AU 

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Their Shattered Hearts

by Angie Cole

 

 

 

(Cardinal Creek)
Publication date: March 1st 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

A story of love, loss, and redemption unfolds in the rustic charm of Cardinal Creek, Texas. Will Deluca, a stoic firefighter and ranch owner, bears the weight of his wife’s untimely demise. His world once filled with warmth, now echoes with the silent grief of his two children and the unyielding Texas plains.

Enter Anna Samuels, a heart that’s seen its share of sorrow. Leaving Missouri’s memories behind, she hopes to find solace and new beginnings in the small Texas town. As a dedicated palliative care nurse, she embarks on a mission to bring comfort to families grappling with illness. Destiny leads her to Rockin’ D Ranch, where her path crosses with Will, a man whose rugged charm and piercing blue eyes hide a world of pain.

Amidst the rolling hills of Cardinal Creek, Will and Anna find their lives intricately entwined, linked by a forgotten encounter from their youth. Anna’s arrival sparks a glimmer of hope in Will’s heart, inspiring him to fulfill a promise to his late wife: to create a sanctuary for children with autism. Together, they begin to weave dreams of a brighter future.

But shadows linger in the corners of their newfound happiness. Anna grapples with a dark secret that threatens to destroy the life she has built in Cardinal Creek. As Will confronts his own fears, he risks losing the one person who could help him heal. In the face of adversity, will they find the strength to conquer their demons and embrace a second chance at love?

In Their Shattered Hearts fate, passion, and dark secrets collide. Join Will and Anna as they journey through the complexities of the heart, learning that sometimes, the path to happiness is paved with the courage to face the ghosts of the past.

Goodreads / Amazon

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CHARACTER QUOTES:

Will Deluca: “Every star in the Texas sky reminds me of what I’ve lost… and what I still hope to find.”

Anna Samuels: “Healing others is my calling, but healing my own heart? That’s a journey I didn’t expect to take.”

Will Deluca: “They say time heals all wounds, but here in Cardinal Creek, it’s love that does the healing.”

Anna Samuels: “In every patient’s smile, I see a piece of my grandfather’s legacy… and a part of my heart healing.”

Will Deluca: “I never thought I’d find love again. Turns out, it was waiting for me in the last place I expected.”

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About Author Angie Cole:

My journey as a romance author is deeply rooted in my personal experiences of love, loss, and resilience. The profound impact of the losses I have endured, including the passing of my grandparents and my parents, has shaped my perspective on life and love.

My own love story is one of healing and finding joy after heartache, and it mirrors the themes I explore in my novels.

As a survivor of grief and a believer in the power of love, I channel my experiences into crafting stories that resonate with the complexities and triumphs of the human heart. My writing is a testament to the idea that love can emerge from the most unexpected places, offering hope and healing. The one thing that can be learned from grief is that it’s a very personal experience and isn’t the same for every person.

Website / Facebook / Instagram

 

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A Swedish Crime Novel

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Acquittal?

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Stockholm Sleuth Series Book 5

by Christer Tholin

Genre: Mystery, Crime

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A Swedish Crime Novel

Umeå, Northern Sweden: Willmar Björkman has been incarcerated for five years after being found guilty on a murder charge; albeit unjustly convicted according to his claims. From the very start, he has adamantly maintained that he is innocent of the crime. Detectives Lars and Elin are hired to find new evidence that casts doubt upon the validity of the guilty verdict so that a retrial of his case can be requested. Is that even possible now that so much time has passed? The two detectives start asking around to dig up some new information, but find themselves facing a wall of silence – nobody seems interested in reopening the case. In fact, they themselves are uncertain if Willmar is even innocent at all. But then the coincidences begin to pile up and ultimately the investigation spins completely out of control…

ACQUITTAL? is the fifth, standalone book from Christer Tholin’s Stockholm Sleuth Series.

If you like fast-paced action and surprising twists and turns, then you will love Christer Tholin’s sleuth series.

Buy ACQUITTAL? to see how this suspenseful case is solved!

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Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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It had grown late; it was completely dark on the country road, there were no street lights out here. Tall trees stood to the right and left. The snow that lay under the trees did nothing to brighten it. The asphalt was glistening from the wetness, at least Elin hoped that it was water and not ice, because the temperature was around freezing. Once the sun set, the thermometer could quickly drop a few degrees, and then there could be black ice on the ground after the rain. She slowed down – forty-five miles per hour were allowed here. She preferred to go slower than that, especially around the curves.

The lights from oncoming vehicles were blinding. Every time a car came along, she had to concentrate to stay in her lane. She slowed down even further and now was only driving thirty-five miles per hour. That didn’t suit the man behind, he flashed his lights at her several times. Now she was also blinded by the light from the side mirrors. Finally, he overtook after a curve. Well, at least he couldn’t bother her anymore.

For a while everything went fine, she slowly began to relax, but she still maintained a reduced speed. After the idiot from before, there had been no more cars behind her, but now she noticed a car slowly getting closer. Judging from the lighting, it had to be a bigger vehicle. Why did he have to drive like that on this road? She fully understood that the locals knew this road well and could probably judge the weather conditions better than she could, but nevertheless, you should probably still be a little more careful when driving a truck. Well, she had to concede, if he was carrying a heavy load, he probably had little to worry about, even if it was a little slippery. In Stockholm, until recently, the buses didn’t even have winter tires; they all had all-season tires to save costs. Only last year did they start to gradually change over the tires, because there had been a few accidents. After each bend, the lights disappeared behind Elin, only to reappear on the next straight stretch, and a little faster each time – the distance between them was rapidly shrinking. Elin kept glancing nervously in the rearview mirror, she hated it when people tailgated. It was indeed a truck, one of those giant ones, and now he was driving close behind her, flashing his lights. Just what she had been afraid of. She felt compelled to drive a little faster, but she didn’t go beyond forty. Unfortunately, it didn’t help, the truck was still sticking like glue to her. If she had to brake for any reason now, he’d probably run her off the road. Elin hoped that after the next curve there was a clear stretch again so that the guy could pass her. She was uncomfortable with this brightly lit monster clinging to her tail. Trees on either side, blinding lights from the front, and that idiot with all the horsepower tailgating. Carefully she went around the bend – yes, there was a longer clear stretch coming up here, and at the moment there was no oncoming traffic. Furthermore, there was now a small slope on the right side, which increased the distance to the forest and made the road look a little brighter. Elin could only hope that the driver of the truck would take this chance. She looked in the rearview mirror – yeah, he flashed his lights and pulled his vehicle into the left lane. Elin took her foot off the gas and the truck pulled alongside her. It was one of those trucks that transported lumber, fully loaded and with a trailer. They all sped through here like jackasses, the speed limits didn’t seem to apply to them. Water splashed onto her car from the side, her vision was blurred for a brief moment, then the windshield wiper swept over it and she could see the road in front of her again. The truck was halfway past her now but seemed to be slowing down. Elin checked her speedometer, it was thirty-five, which made her wonder if the truck was running out of steam? Irritated, she looked ahead, luckily no oncoming traffic. She reduced her speed even more, which allowed the truck to move past her a bit more. But what was he doing now? What the hell, he was braking! The red brake lights shone brightly. And now he pulled over towards her side. Why? The tree trunks were coming menacingly closer, Elin honked the horn and slammed down on her brake. She felt the rear of her car swerve, while all that was visible in front of her were wheels and wood. The truck cut her off! In a panic, she turned to the right. At that moment her Volvo got a bump in the front and was pushed even further towards the roadside. She pressed on the brakes with all her might, but despite this, she was still getting closer and closer to the downhill slope. She would bring the car to a stop in a moment, just in time. But then the Volvo got a bump from behind and slid down the slope. Snow, trees – Elin screamed. The Volvo spun, the wheels hitting some obstacle. Then the car overturned – the last thing Elin saw was her airbag deploying.

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**Don’t miss the rest of the series!**

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Find them on Amazon

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Christer was raised in the North of Germany, Schleswig-Holstein. After having spent years in Berlin / Germany, Brighton /UK and Budapest / Hungary, he has now been living in Stockholm / Sweden for almost two decades.

As a crime-story aficionado of long standing, Christer always wanted to write detective stories of his own that would not only be exciting, but that would also be set against the backdrop of the natural beauty of Sweden – and that would afford him the opportunity to portray Swedish society as seen through the eyes of a foreigner. The result: his “Stockholm Sleuth Series.”

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Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

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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!

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