Archive for the ‘Adult Fiction’ Category

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I loved James Hunter’s Yancy Lazarus series and I’m excited to share his newest release, Mudman,

Scroll down and check it out. I have a peek inside the book and the awesome cover art to share with you today.

MudMan

The Golem Chronicles

Book One

by James A. Hunter

Mudman cover

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Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Shadow Alley Press

ASIN: B01BX7PT7M

Number of pages: 415 / Word Count: 111,000

Cover Artist: Lou Harper

 

Book Description:

Levi Adams is a soft spoken, middle-aged Mennonite man—at least he tries to be when he’s not murdering people.

Levi’s a golem, a Mudman, crafted from the muck, mire, and corpses of a World War II concentration camp—killing is just a part of his DNA. He doesn’t like it, but unfortunately he’s been saddled with a divine commission to dole out judgment on those who shed innocent blood. After seventy years as a cold-blooded murder machine, however, Levi’s trying to change his grisly nature. And the AA meetings and church services are helping. A little. But when he runs across a wounded girl, Sally Ryder, during one of his “hunting expeditions,” he realizes self-help may have to go on the back burner.

Someone is attempting to revive a pre-Babylonian murder god, and the road to rebirth is paved with dead bodies. Lots and lots of them.

Now, Levi must protect Ryder—the key to an unspeakable resurrection—and defeat a Nazi mage from Levi’s murky past. But the shadowy mage holds a terrible secret about the Mudman’s unorthodox birth, one offering insight into Levi’s morbid compulsion for bloodshed. It’s a secret Levi would pay anything to uncover: maybe even Ryder’s life. If Levi isn’t careful, he may end up turning into the monster he always imagined himself to be.

Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside the book.

ZERO:

Awakening

June, 1943

 

He blinked his eyes open for the first time: a newborn stealing his first look at the world, which, in a way, is exactly what he was. Except no squealing, rosy-cheeked infant had ever been so big, so ugly, or so filled with blood-boiling rage. Never had a child been so appalling. He squinted at first, letting in only the merest trickle of light because even the wan illumination from the moon, which loitered over the world like a fat thumbnail, was harsh to his virgin eyes.

Smells came next: the scent of musky earth, the harsh tang of powdery slaked lime—used to mask the reek of decay—and buried beneath that, the sour stink of rotten flesh and burnt hair.

The sky spit down a misty drizzle, fine droplets of cool water that turned his gray skin slick. After a few moments more his eyes adjusted fully, allowing him, at last, to survey his surroundings. Mud and muck, deep brown and goopy, lined everything. It squished beneath his shoulder blades, clung to his arms and legs, and liberally coated the corpses crudely piled to his right. Despite the mud, the bodies appeared almost white, like angry specters waiting for him, welcoming him to this new hell with silent screams and vacant eyes.

How he knew anything was beyond him, since this was the first day of his life, the day—or rather night—of his unnatural birth. Surely, no baby pushed and fought its way into the world with dark and grisly thoughts of murder and death lingering in its mind, with knowledge of mass graves, heinous experimentation, and hasty executions. But he knew such things. Fragments of memories floated and swirled inside his skull, dancing a slow funeral dirge, parading incoherent snatches of imagery through his head.

The Wehrmacht march through the streets in their black spit-shined boots and high-collared, gray wool uniforms. Smart and dashing, those uniforms, dressing up the face of murder in civility and pageantry …

The Luftwaffe soars overhead. The buzz of the single-prop Focke-Wulf and the thunderous roar of the colossal Messerschmitt transport planes fill the air with their racket …

He clutches a small boy to his chest, his body trembling as he hides, holding his breath for fear of being heard. Terror and panic wriggle in his guts as the black-garbed Schutzstaffel—the SS—make their way from door to door, fists rapping on wood, rifle buttstocks smashing out windows, booted feet kicking their way inside …

Then, train cars, loaded to capacity, roll through his thoughts. Bodies press up against one another so tightly he can’t breathe—except he isn’t a he, but a she. And she is searching for her sister. They’d been separated in all the chaos …

So many images, circling around, each screaming more loudly than the last, each demanding he lend them an ear or an eye or a hand. He clutched at either side of his head. Broad, fleshy palms pressed in as though he could simply pulverize the images and send them back to whatever nightmare they’d come from. But they kept coming, and as they came—faster and faster, like a hail of automatic machine gunfire—his chest began to itch and burn. It felt like someone had taken a cherry-red fire iron and jabbed it into the meat covering his breastbone.

A huge hand flew to the pain, his fingers finding crude markings etched directly into the skin, cut deep into the muscle below. As he touched the mark, the jagged wound, the voices and visions coalesced into a single demand. A demand for retribution. The anger came next, flowing from the brand like gasoline pumping through his veins, scorching his insides and propelling him to action. He lumbered to his feet, the muck squishing around his thick toes, and made for the muddy wall of his earthen womb. In reality, an open grave. He dug his digits in and used his flabby, though powerfully built, arms to pull himself upward and free.

He lay on the edge of the pit for a long beat, charting the lay of the land, eyes scanning the dark, which covered everything like a velvety blanket. In the distance, not so far off, he saw a squat building. Some sort of bunker, outlined by the faint glow of light bulbs. He wasn’t sure what he was. Where he was. Or how he’d gotten there. But, as the brand burned in his chest, he was certain of one thing: someone—or, perhaps, lots of someones—had quite the butcher’s bill to account for, and he was ready to collect.

 

About Author James Hunter

James A. Hunter

Hey all, my name is James Hunter and I’m a writer, among other things. So just a little about me: I’m a former Marine Corps Sergeant, combat veteran, and pirate hunter (seriously). I’m also a member of The Royal Order of the Shellback—’cause that’s a real thing. I’ve also been a missionary and international aid worker in Bangkok, Thiland. And, a space-ship captain, can’t forget that.

Okay … the last one is only in my imagination.

Currently, I’m a stay at home Dad—taking care of my two kids—while also writing full time, making up absurd stories that I hope people will continue to buy. When I’m not working, writing, or spending time with family, I occasionally eat and sleep.

You can visit me to find out more at www.JamesAHunter.wordpress.com

www.twitter.com/@jamesahunter13

www.facebook.com/WriterJamesAHunter

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

For a list of my reviews go HERE

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky horseshoe below!

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Black Water Tales: The Unwanted
JeanNicole Rivers
Publication date: March 31st 2016
Genres: Adult, Horror

In the remote, eastern European town of Borslav there is St. Sebastian orphanage, a place where people discard their unwanted children. For the American, Blaire Baker, it’s the perfect place to volunteer her services. Paired with a cheerful volunteer nurse, Blaire is enthusiastic about the possibilities, but is quickly discouraged when she encounters the nefarious nature of the staff and the deplorable conditions of the facility and the children.

Upon arrival, one of the children informs Blaire, “There’s something in the basement.” It isn’t long before strange things begin happening, including Blaire’s flashbacks of the accident that killed her parents. The children soon suffer injuries that Blaire, first, fears may be the deeds of the callous workers but she soon thinks the abuse may originate from a source that is less than human, something unwanted.

The unwanted is coming but in order for Blaire to fight it, she must dig into St. Sebastian and herself in search of truth. Blaire wants nothing more than to help the children, but when discovers the tragedy that happened in the basement and learns that the same evil forces are still at work, it will be Blaire who needs help…There’s something in the basement.

Add to Goodreads

 

Author Bio:

I was born in the tiny, but lovable town of Centralia, IL which has a two screen movie theatre, one high school and still celebrates May Fete, so I had no choice, but to develop a fantastic imagination. Since childhood I have been writing everything from short stories to songs, but I have always aspired to compose a novel. Black Water Tales: The Secret Keepers is my first novel and the first book in what will be a series of thriller novels.

Philosophy was my study in college and I received a Bachelor of Arts in the subject from Florida International University. Writing is one of my most favored artistic pursuits, but my love for the arts does not stop there, I am also a vocalist and actress and participate in local theater in Houston Texas.

Website / Goodreads / Twitter / Facebook

 

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

For a list of my reviews go HERE

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky horseshoe below!

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Do I have a good one to share today!

It’s got zombies, kinda. If you consider someone walking around brain dead, then yeah, it’s zombies.

I had a good time with this one and can’t wait to share it!

Check out my review.

And don’t forget to enter Keith’s giveaway!

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The Dead Circle

by Keith Varney

My Review

Water, water, everywhere, but not a drop to drink.

Imagine it. We can survive a long time without food. But going more than a few days without water will kill us.

Something is wrong with the water. It’s turning people into mindless walkers. It only takes one drop. Then, they strip off their clothes and head to a central place in Detroit. Once there, they join a crowd of others, walking in a circle, limbs sporadically twitching, eyes rolled over white. No mind left, they walk in a circle, and more join them.

Chris and Sarah, a married couple, have just bought their dream house. Well, it will be. They envision turning the abandoned library into a home. A place to raise kids in. A place to grow old in.

But, that’s all changed now. Since the rains started. Since the water betrayed them.

Now, they struggle to survive. Seemingly the only ones unchanged. Waiting for a clear day to go out and forage for supplies.

Winter is coming. No power in the city means no heat. They need to go outside. They need to figure out how they’ll stay warm during the winter. They need to gather food and safe drinking water. Once it snows, they’ll be trapped inside until spring.

Then, things change again. The walkers aren’t circling anymore. They’ve broken away, wandering, looking for food. Any food. It’s more dangerous than ever to venture outside, but Chris and Sarah have no choice.

Just think of the obstacles they must have face. Water is everywhere. You can’t risk going outside if there is the slightest chance of rain. Even if it hasn’t rained in days, a drop could be lingering and that’s all it takes.

You reach to open a car door, be careful. You look away for just a moment and right in front of you is a water puddle. You walk under a tree, water drips off the leaves.

No place is safe.

This story starts out so innocently. Then something happens that knocks you back on your heels. From then on, you are in Chris and Sarah’s shoes. You struggle with them, you stratagize with them. You run with them. Will you die with them?

This is one I’d recommend to those who enjoy an apocalyptic thriller with a new spin on zombies. And to those who like suspense with a touch of horror.

Like a pressure cooker, the suspense builds, the danger builds, your connection with the characters builds. And then it ends.

My sister would have hated the ending. I didn’t. I wonder what you’ll make of it.

4 Stars

~~~

Synopsis

Something is terribly wrong in Detroit.

When Chris and Sarah bought an abandoned library to renovate and live in, they expected to be on the ground floor of the revival of Detroit. But unbeknownst to them, the city is about to fall. The devastation begins with a single woman who mysteriously tears off her clothing and starts walking the perimeter of an empty lot. Within minutes, hundreds of disparate people inexplicably form a giant human circle that slowly revolves like a hurricane of flesh. They twitch and spasm, contorting their naked bodies in a primordial death dance. They’re oblivious to everything, even the unfortunate souls who fall beneath their feet.

Bewildered citizens and authorities are desperate to know what’s causing the bizarre event… at least until it starts to rain.

Chris and Sarah abruptly find themselves trapped in a forsaken city. To survive, they must evade the horrifying illness, find food and shelter in a suddenly primitive world… and have a battle plan for when the circle stops spinning…

Website | Facebook | Amazon KDP Createspace

About The Author

Keith Varney

Originally from small town Vermont, Keith Varney is an award-winning musical theater writer and actor. He has written Book, Music and Lyrics in various combinations for I GOT FIRED (Best American Musical – DIMF), ELWAY: THE MUSICAL, THE OTHER SEX, JOSHUA: THE MUSICAL, PIE EATER & SCOOBY DOOSICAL. He has also written songs for Submissions Only, Hot Mess in Manhattan, See You Lighter, My Mother is a Sex Therapist & Dystopia Gardens. As an actor he has performed professionally in musicals including Les Miserables, The Producers, The Full Monty, Titanic and I Got Fired(Best Actor in a Musical – DIMF). He has a degree in classical voice from the Eastman School of Music. He now lives in Astoria NY with his wife Jillian, who is a Broadway actress. “The Dead Circle” is his debut novel. For more information, please visit www.keithvarneywriter.com.

Website | Facebook | Twitter @keithvarney 

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$50 Amazon Gift Card 

10 ebook copies of The Dead Circle

Open Worldwide

Ends Dec. 2nd

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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This event was organized by CBB Book Promotions.
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Follow the tour for more fun posts!

11/16

Review – Savings in Seconds

Interview – A Book With Bea

11/17

Review & Excerpt – Chasing My Extraordinary

11/18

Excerpt – WS Momma Readers Nook

11/19

Review – Simply Mama Of 2

Interview – Solafide Book Blog

11/20

Guest Post – Curling Up With A Good Book

11/23

Review & Interview – A Page to Turn Reviews

Excerpt – Born Bookish

11/24

Review & Excerpt – fuonlyknew

Review – Emily Reads Everything

11/25

Review – Book Lovers Life

11/26

Review – Ogitchida Kwe’s Book Blog

Excerpt – CBY Book Club

11/27

Excerpt – Crystal’s Chaotic Confessions

Review – 3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, &, Sissy, Too!

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Until I see you again….

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

For a list of my reviews go HERE

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky horseshoe below!

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On tour with Prism Book Tours.

Release Day Blitz for
The Ghost Chronicles
By Marlo Berliner

Intro to The Ghost Chronicles

THE GHOST CHRONICLES is a YA paranormal with romantic elements and adult crossover appeal. This is the story ripped from the headlines about a young person who dies tragically through no fault of their own. Unfortunately we read these stories nearly every day in the newspaper or see them on TV. The kind of young person you hear has died and you find yourself thinking, What a shame. They had so much going for them, such a promising future. Why did that have to happen? For this reason, this book was the book of my heart. I wanted it to be as realistic a story as possible of what it might be like to die tragically and be trapped in the afterlife as a ghost. Let’s face it, we all have to die and none of us can say with certainty what happens when we do. It’s the biggest fear of the unknown there is! Oh, we may think we know, or may have certain beliefs about what might happen, but what if it doesn’t happen that way? What if you are suddenly and unfairly taken from this life and now you’re stuck and don’t know why? How angry would you be? What would you do? How much would you begin to question all you’ve ever believed in? It won’t be completely apparent until later in the series, but I wanted it to be a story of great hope for anyone who has tragically lost someone they love, especially someone young.

The setting for most of the story was inspired by The Angel of the Sea, an award-winning bed and breakfast in Cape May, NJ. This spectacular inn has been featured on several television programs and in magazines throughout the world. Most notably, it was chosen by Oprah Winfrey as one of the “Best Vacations in the World” and included in her television talk show. The Angel of the Sea is one of the most recognized Victorian structures in the United States. Legend has it that in the late 1960’s, a girl did fall to her death at the Angel of the Sea and did at one time, haunt the inn. The story of the girl has been included in several non-fiction books about ghosts in Cape May. Sarah’s character in THE GHOST CHRONICLES was inspired by this legend. You can learn more about the Angel of the Sea by visiting: http://www.angelofthesea.com/

The cover was designed by the amazingly talented S.P. McConnell.

Isn’t it GORGEOUS!?!?!

— Marlo

The Ghost Chronicles
by Marlo Berliner
YA/Adult Crossover Paranormal
Paperbook & ebook, 298 Pages
November 2015 by Teddy Blue Books

Can Michael get to heaven before the devil gets him first, and if it means leaving Sarah is he sure he still wants to go?

Michael Andrews had everything – a loving family, a great girlfriend and a promising basketball career. That was before the accident that took his life. Now, he’s a ghost, wandering among the living, struggling to understand why he’s stuck. All he wants is to move on.

That is until he meets Sarah, an attractive young girl who died just as tragically as he did. The only trouble is falling in love and binding oneself to another soul is forbidden, for it may keep one or both of the souls bound to earth for longer than they should be.

To make matters worse, there’s also a danger in going too far with Sarah, because the “joining” of two souls in the afterlife is also strictly forbidden and they don’t know what will happen if they do go that far. Each time they touch they can feel the boundaries of their energies slipping perilously into one another.

Things get even more complicated as Michael learns he’s being pursued. Demons are after him because he’s a marked soul, a soul the devil wants very badly for some unknown reason.

So, maybe falling in love in the afterlife isn’t such a good idea.

About Marlo Berliner

Formerly an accounting manager for a Fortune 500 company, Marlo is currently an intern with a literary agency based in New York City, as well as, an editor at Chimera Editing. Marlo writes young adult, women’s fiction, and short stories. She is currently working on her third novel.

When she’s not writing or editing, Marlo loves reading, relaxing at the beach, watching movies, and rooting for the Penn State Nittany Lions. After having spent some wonderful time in Pittsburgh and Houston, she’s now back in her home state of New Jersey where she resides with her husband and two sons. This is her first novel.

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Ends November 22nd

Click on the rafflecopter link below to enter.

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Until I see you again….

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

For a list of my reviews go HERE

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

For all of my giveaways go HERE

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

 

This is a really fun meme!

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

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

My 56 for this week is from

 Intersections

by Keith R. Wilson

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My 56 is actually from page 65. Switched the numbers to find a good quote. 

Every intersection is an opportunity to get out, to change, to choose, to be someone else, to do something else. Every intersection interrupts the hurtling train of our thoughts. Every little thing we notice turns us down a new road, opens a door to a new mansion, invites us to a party. Every little thing gives us new hope. Every little thing tells us there is more out there than what we know.

This book is so different from my normal reading. I’m really enjoying it!

Read on if you want to know more.

Synopsis

Go on the road with Larry, a suicidal psychotherapist. Middle-aged and obese, divorced and estranged from his children, Larry sets off across the country, ambivalently seeking restoration amid scraps of long-distance fatherhood. He encounters an amorous nursing home death cat, a serendipitous Rastafarian, a drunken Katrina refugee who just might be an incarnation of a Voodoo god, and a murderous mountaineer who teaches him how to let go. He’s transformed by a series of spiritual discoveries that proffer insight about life’s fundamental questions. Intersections takes unexpected turns on a journey from despair to re-enchantment, from loneliness to reconciliation, from the carnal to the transcendent and back again.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

Leave your link and I’ll drop by your 56.

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of A Daily Rhythm.

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Anyone can play along! Just do the following:
• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page.
•Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

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My Teaser for this week is from

All The Wrong Ways

by M.M. Charles 

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My Teaser from page 34 in the Paperback.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was shaking, and her fingers clutched her phone.

The sight pained her.

It destroyed her.

It disgusted her.

I won this book in a giveaway. It sounded good and I’m enjoying it so far. I like how the author presents the story.

This is an adult read with some graphic scenes. A dark thriller.

Read on if you want to know more.

THEN
Two years ago, amateur prosecutor Abra Fawley suffered a life-changing experience after handling a scandalous rape case. Unable to prevent startling circumstances beyond her control, Abra abandoned her prosecutorial duties and currently works as a dispirited private investigator. The guilt still remains…

NOW
Two years later, law student Anton Costa is accused of rape by a fellow classmate. While alleging innocence, his notorious past rears its ugly head. Despite a tainted reputation, Anton is sticking to his word: it was consensual.

She says it was rape.

A night off campus with Anton turns into a roller coaster ride to hell for Jentra Mendoza. It all happened in her room. She has the bruises to prove rape. All she needs is the support from her best friend.

A close acquaintance of Anton and Jentra, Lark Ridley is an intriguing girl with questionable intentions. She witnessed the incident. There is one problem: she is missing.

As a favor for a friend, Abra must work with a defense attorney and prove Anton is innocent.

While discovering the ugly facts about her new client, Abra’s doubts about the alleged rape makes her question the parties involved as well as herself.

Who is to blame? Or better yet, who is honest?

Synopsis

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How about you? Got a tease? Tell me!

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641 to Paris_Banner

Jean-Philippe Blondel

on Tour September 14-18

with

The 6:41 To Paris

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Genre: Adult Fiction

Release date: November 10, 2015
at New Vessel Press

153 pages

ISBN: 978-1939931269

Website | Goodreads

My Review

I can honestly say I’ve not read a book like this before. That said, I’ll do my best to intrigue you more.

Imagine you bump into a former lover, someone you’d trusted, hoped to spend the rest of your life with. And he betrayed you so deeply.

It’s been 30 years, but the pain still festers for Cecile, the wound freshly opened by a chance encounter with Philippe on a train.

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?” This quote came to mind as I was privy to Cecile’s thoughts.

It’s one and a half hours until the train reaches their stop. Ride with them. Enter their minds. Hear what they are thinking.

Such a twisted tale. It’s one thing to imagine what someone is thinking. It’s something else entirely to read those thoughts, unguarded and almost vicious. I felt uncomfortable.  That’s when I realized how well this story worked. If the author could unsettle me with his story, then his characters came across as living, breathing people.

I read this in less time than the characters shared on their train ride. The story stayed with me a lot longer.

4 Stars

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Synopsis

Cecile, a stylish 47-year-old, has spent the weekend visiting her parents in a provincial town southeast of Paris. By early Monday morning, she’s exhausted. These trips back home are always stressful and she settles into a train compartment with an empty seat beside her. But it’s soon occupied by a man she instantly recognizes: Philippe Leduc, with whom she had a passionate affair that ended in her brutal humiliation 30 years ago. In the fraught hour and a half that ensues, their express train hurtles towards the French capital. Cécile and Philippe undertake their own face to face journey—In silence? What could they possibly say to one another?—with the reader gaining entrée to the most private of thoughts. This is a brilliant psychological thriller, a high-wire act of emotions on rails, about past romance, with all its pain and promise.

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Check out this glimpse inside the book!

I love to hear the sound of the doors closing. It signals the beginning of an egocentric and self-indulgent interlude. For the next two hours, nothing can really happen to you. Everything is taken care of. You can decide to immerse yourself in a novel, or succumb to the trance of the music coming from your headphones. You can also vanish into the screen of your laptop, into emails, spreadsheets, numbers, reports, and establish a direct yet disembodied connection with the outside world.

I don’t do any of that. I daydream. Train journeys are rare opportunities to let go and lower my guard. Whereas in the Métro or the RER I can’t do that. I’m always on the alert.

             The seat next to me has not been taken.

It stays empty.

The train starts to move.

I’m of two minds.

On the one hand, I’m relieved. It’s true that it’s a bit weird, the closeness you get in a railroad car. You’re only a few inches away from another person, another story, and you know that in the event of a crash, your skin will mingle with theirs. And then, these SNCF seats aren’t comfortable. A little more room would be great. Room enough to stretch out and doze off, if you feel like it, all the way to the Gare de l’Est—and catch up on lost sleep. We’re all trying to catch up on lost sleep. When you’ve got a neighbor, you have to sit up straight, almost like at school, and when the conductor goes by, you almost feel like raising a finger and saying, “Present.”

But another side of me wants to protest. Why am I the only one without a temporary partner? Am I giving off the sort of body odor that immediately deters any hypothetical candidates? Am I that ugly? Do I frighten them? Intimidate them? So here I sit, the only person sitting alone in the whole car—isn’t there even some old lady who could come and keep my thoughts from going round in circles? Or some vague acquaintance I could chat with about the weather or the passage of time?

I wonder what the other passengers think when they look at me. They see a woman who is neither young nor old, fairly well preserved. A somewhat inscrutable expression, lips that could stand to be a little fuller, a deep line across her forehead, two others on either side of her mouth. Light makeup. Nicely tailored clothes. Discreet elegance. Relatively slim figure. Why isn’t she traveling first class?

For the simple reason that the 6:41 is a regional train, where the differences in comfort between first and second class are minimal. And besides, the number of first-class seats has been so drastically reduced that the half-car devoted to first is often jam-packed, while there are still empty seats in second class. Well, usually. Today the entire train is jammed. All that’s left is the orphaned seat next to me. A privilege I would not have enjoyed in first class, where I would probably be stuck next to some corpulent senior executive reeking of aftershave, who would spend the entire time calling his superiors or his underlings, in spite of the notice requesting cell phones in sleep mode.

And besides, I like to travel second class. I feel like this is where I belong. My accountant laughs at me. He reminds me that Pourpre et Lys is one the trendiest shops around. That with two stores in Paris, one in Bordeaux, one in Lyon, and projects to expand all over France, I should start getting used to the idea that I have become an entrepreneur. Someone who in the decade ahead will count for something in the business world. In spite of the crisis, or because of it, organic beauty products have a bright future—particularly when the prices are still reasonable and the emphasis is placed on respect for regional traditions and on protecting the environment. Soaps that you cut yourself. Shampoo sold in reusable bottles. Ads printed on recycled paper. Clear, concise labels on plain brown paper, with the name of the product in black, and the ingredients below. Chic and sober. My brand.

Valentine and Luc have begun to realize. Luc increasingly shuts himself away in his study. A sort of rivalry has arisen between us and he’s struggling, even though he’s known from the start that he’ll lose. Soon I’ll be earning much more money than him.

He’s been saying we have to move, we have to go back to Paris proper and leave our big house in the suburbs behind, the house with the garden where Valentine grew up. She couldn’t care less either way. She’s finishing her lycée and would rather stay with her friends for another year, but she’s already informed me that she intends to have her own studio in a lively neighborhood right in Paris next year. The forty-five minute commute to Sucy, no thanks. Luc also thinks I should stop taking the RER now, but it’s out of the question. My brand is also about reducing the executive personnel’s expenditure. Even if I know that sooner or later we’ll move back to the city; for the time being, the business is too precarious, and it could vanish in a puff of wind—poor management, competition, unrealistic ambitions. I don’t want to add private loans to professional ones. At heart I’m still a provincial banker. After all, that’s what I was trained to do. After two years of training in marketing techniques I found myself unemployed. So I got a vocational training certificate in banking. I pictured myself behind the counter in a branch in the town where I grew up. Sometimes life takes us a long way from the place we thought we were headed. Sometimes that’s a good thing.

It has taken me quite awhile.

That’s another of my character traits: I’m slow. But persevering. I thought about my project for years, when I was barely making ends meet as an administrative assistant in a financial analyst’s office, then in one of those multinationals that are all about new technologies, cell phones, computers, and consoles. I sat there watching while those gung-ho reps crushed their competitors. Then witnessed their fall a few years later. I learned how to be discreet and impeccable to a fault. To be the model employee. To serve whoever was boss: the aging ones who couldn’t keep up to speed and sat around dreaming of their retirement in the Sologne; the young ones who were working up to their first heart attack; they could be warm, icy, scathing, offhand. And I figured out how it all worked. I spent a lot of time reading, too. Books about business, accounting, marketing. Luc just laughed at me. He thought I was immersing myself in all that in order to get closer to him, to what he did every day. Because Luc is one of those aging, interchangeable, middle management execs—for a stationery company that is relocating by the hour. They don’t even have a production site in France anymore. Hungary, Bulgaria, Poland: it’s all concentrated in Eastern Europe.

Luc had his hour of glory when he was able to negotiate a schedule that would allow him to take Valentine to school every morning and pick her up in the evening, when she was small. He would chat with the other moms and with the primary school teachers. He was their darling, they were ecstatic to see a man looking after his kids. Those very same women who think it’s only natural for the mother to do it—that’s their role, after all, it’s only fair. I hate women like them—because they are mainly women; they’re the very reason clichés have such a long life.

And then, eight years ago now, everything changed. I came out with my plan. And I embellished it with an ultimatum to my husband: either you go along with it, or we split up. I let him call me every name in the book, but I knew he’d be there for me. Because he still loves me. Because he admires my combativeness. And because the project was unbeatable. The banks had already given their approval. The 2001 crisis was behind us, the 2008 crisis was still to come. And the banks felt like investing.

I have a good relationship with my husband.

Often difficult, but solid.

We’re a team.

We know each other inside out; we are perfectly acquainted with each other’s weaknesses and strengths. But we can still surprise one another. Last month, he suggested dropping everything in order to assist me if Pourpre et Lys really took off. That’s the verb he used, “assist.” With a smile, he pledged to be my vassal. I don’t know many men who are capable of doing that.

Well, by the looks of it I’m going to sit here by myself. I really don’t feel like consulting the latest figures or reading outstanding e-mails. I’ll go back to the book I bought at the station on Friday on the way down. Some sort of family saga set in northern Germany. Nothing great, but it’s restful. And that’s what I need this morning, rest. I’m on my way home from the weekend and I’m exhausted. It’s not a paradox. It’s my life.

Ah-hah, there’s a guy looking for somewhere to sit. He comes a bit closer. He stops. He glances at the seat. Hesitates. Keeps walking. Turns around again. I avoid looking at him. I can just detect his movement at the edge of my vision. For a moment I think I’ve won, that his desire for comfort is about to collide with the invisible wall of my indifference. No such luck. He clears his throat quietly, his voice is somewhat hoarse. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?” God, the idiotic phrases we say every day. I shake my head and sigh, just to let him know it really is a bother. I pull my bag out of the way and decide to look him in the face.

Oh. My. God.

About The Author

portrait de Jean-philippe Blondel

Jean-Philippe Blondel
was born in 1964 in Troyes, France
where he lives as an author and English teacher.
His novel The 6:41 to Paris
has been a bestseller in both France and Germany.

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About The Translator

Alison Anderson is a novelist and translator of literature from French. Among the authors she has translated are JMG Le Clézio, Christian Bobin, Muriel Barbery and Amélie Nothomb. She has lived in Northern California and currently lives in a village in Switzerland.
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You can enter the global giveaway here
or on any other book blogs participating in this tour.

Be sure to follow each participant on Twitter/Facebook,
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Visit each blogger on the tour:
tweeting about the giveaway everyday
of the Tour will give you 5 extra entries each time!
[just follow the directions on the entry-form]

Global giveaway open to US residents only:
5 participants will each win an ARC print copy of this book.

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Game Changer Book Blast Banner1 please!

I’ve got a great end of summer read for ya!

Check out Game Changer.

And grab a free copy. Links are in the post!

Game Changer
Playing Games #1
by Rene Folsom
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Publication Date: December 15th, 2014
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Synopsis

Maci strives for one thing in life—anonymity. With her writing career in full bloom, all she wants is to work in peace while concealing her true identity from the public. Though readers love the science fiction worlds she creates, Maci knows that gender stereotypes could damage her career if she is exposed as a woman.

Liam is the envy of all gamers as the lead developer for nZone Studios. Over time, he builds walls around himself, keeping people at arm’s length who only gravitate to him for his material possessions rather than who he is as a person.

With thick barriers around their hearts and their past looming in the shadows, Liam and Maci challenge each other by slowly peeling away their protective layers and seeing each other for who they really are. It doesn’t take long after their chance meeting at a coffee shop for them to become one another’s game changer.

Note: If a strong, quirky heroine makes you roll your eyes, If you hate sexy heroes who would rather lose a game than the woman of their dreams, if fast-moving relationships and hot sex aren’t your thing, if you can’t stand when humor is used to cover up life’s awkward moments, if cliffhangers anger you beyond comprehension… this series is not your cup of tea. This contemporary romance novel is the first book in the Playing Games series and contains adult situations meant for ages 18+.

 
 
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Click on the banner to get your copy!
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Sounds fun! Would you like to read it?
You can request a copy in your format by clicking HERE.
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About The Author
Game Changer Rene, Author
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Rene Folsom, author of contemporary and paranormal, lives in Florida with her husband and three kids. She has officially diagnosed herself with creative ADD and often has a million and one writing projects going at once. In addition to writing, she is also a graphic artist who enjoys creating custom book covers for indie authors. She is definitely an artist at heart and would love nothing more than to be elbow deep in clay during her waking hours.

Rene believes that all fiction is based on some form of reality—otherwise we would never have the inspiration or knowledge to dream up the realistic situations we portray with our words. She is proud to say that her personal experiences have been inspirational, though perhaps not always identical to that of her fictional characters. Where reality and fantasy diverge, however, must remain her little secret… 

Author Links:
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Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of A Daily Rhythm.

TeaserTuesdays2014e

Anyone can play along! Just do the following:
• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page.
•Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

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My Teaser for this week is from

Grey Daze

  A Lance Underphal Mystery

by Michael Allan Scott

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My Teaser from page 51 in the Paperback.

  Finally, after eons, the faintest stirrings come through, like ancient static drifting down out of the either, soiling the atmosphere with its confusion. Its whisperings float around me like circling sharks. I can’t make it out. What’s it want? Near panic, I’m frozen, not even my blood circulates. I listen harder, trying to hear….what?

This scene is so chilling, I’d like to share a bit more.

Ever so faintly, I hear it, something new – a small child whimpering, lost, alone, and frightened. It hits me like a crack of thunder. That little voice,crying…crying,crying. And there’s nothing I can do. Overcome, I break down, weeping. I can’t ake it. I have to get out of here. The horror – I’ll face death, stare down evil – I can take it. But the child’s cries are too much, ripping my heart out. You can’t expect me to stay. I won’t make it.

This book is killing me and this is only a small part of it. It’s a psychic, serial killer, mystery/thriller, and boy is it intense. Intended for mature readers. Just thought I’d warn you.

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Synopsis

GREY DAZE descends. A fresh murder spins out of control, twisting into new realms of paranormal mystery.

Not for the faint of heart, the third in the Lance Underphal Mystery series, is an interplay of corrupt characters immersed in today’s world.

Paranormal twists and fast action in movie-like scenes set the story’s mystery/thriller elements apart from the typical whodunit/serial-killer thriller.

Guided by his dead wife, a reluctant psychic finds himself on a wild ride through a criminal underworld, slamming face first into corrupt police, gunrunning bikers, and a drug addicted killer–not to mention confrontations with the dead.

Layers of plots within plots twist this new thriller into a startling climax.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

How about you? Got a tease? Tell me!

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