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Hidden Pieces By Mary Keliikoa ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: December 2, 2025 in Excerpt, giveaways, Mystery, reviews
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Killer Tracks by Mary Keliikoa Banner

KILLER TRACKS
by Mary Keliikoa
October 27 – December 12, 2025 Virtual Book Tour
Synopsis:
Killer Tracks by Mary Keliikoa
A Misty Pines Mystery

 

A peaceful retreat. A maze of smoke and murder. Is their remote getaway about to become a death trap?

Sheriff Jax Turner is worried about going off-grid and leaving his young team of deputies behind. But while his getaway with his ex is meant to help them reconnect, Jax is distracted by signs of a break-in at their rented lookout. After a string of unsettling events and an approaching wildfire turn their isolated retreat into a danger zone, he’s stunned to find a dead body with marks tying it to a killer he put away a decade ago. Terrified that his attempt at reconciliation has led them both into a fatal setup, Jax rushes back to his estranged wife before she joins the list of victims. But his dedication to serving and protecting could become an Achilles heel as other players join them among the darkening trees. Can he fight his way out of the woods before the flames of revenge consume everything?

Praise for Killer Tracks:

“Keliikoa is the Queen of immersive small-town mystery. Killer Tracks is cleverly plotted with deftly drawn relatable characters who face off with a deadly threat from the past.” ~ James L’Etoile, award winning author of River of Lies and the Detective Nathan Parker series “Mary Keliikoa’s Killer Tracks is a wonderful addition to the Misty Pines mystery series. Great pacing, strong plotting, and compelling characters. Highly recommended!” ~ Bruce Robert Coffin, international bestselling coauthor of The Turner and Mosley Files

Killer Tracks Trailer:

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Book Details:

Genre: Police Procedural; Detective and Mystery; Crime Fiction; Suspense

Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: September 30, 2025 Number of Pages: 319 ISBN: 979-8-89820-033-6 (pb) Series: A Misty Pines Mystery, #3 || Amazon | Goodreads | Level Best Books

Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads | BookBub

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The Misty Pines Mystery Series
Step into the thrilling world of Misty Pines today with the first ebook, HIDDEN PIECES, now just $0.99!

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Hidden Pieces

Misty Pines Mystery #1

 

 

Synopsis:

Sheriff Jax Turner is staring down the barrel of his broken past. On the brink of ending it all, he feels like a failure following his daughter’s tragic passing and his subsequent divorce. But when a schoolgirl vanishes and her backpack is found in a sex offender’s backseat, the weary lawman drags himself into action and vows to nail one last sociopath. Shocked to discover the teen’s aunt had lost her life in an abduction years prior, the devastating outcome that he’s taken personally, Jax believes the killer has returned with a vengeance. But as the desperate cop frantically hunts down a mysterious relative in search of a suspect, the girl’s time keeps ticking away… Can the jaded sheriff take down the culprit in time to bring the young girl home alive?

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MY REVIEW

Take a close look at the cover. The story that unfolds is very much like a jigsaw puzzle. As is the main character, Sheriff Jax Turner. A man with a lot of baggage. He’s teetering on the brink of giving up. He can’t find a path to handle the loss of his daughter and the end of his marriage. A peculiar case comes to his attention. A young girl is abducted and years earlier he worked a case where her aunt was abducted and murdered. He has to dust off his investigating skills and get back in the game before there’s another deadly outcome. And time is running out.

I’m big into documentaries and shows about missing persons and solving crimes. It’s the ins and outs of following clues, false leads and finally solving the cases that grips me. Hidden Pieces is very much a procedural. You follow Sheriff Turner as he follows those clues. And that’s not all he does. He also has to train his deputies to assist him as he works the case as his usual partner is on vacation.

I felt a strong connection to Jax Turner. He’s had so much tragedy and he struggled to find a way out of his despair. I was pulling for his salvation every bit as much as I wanted him to save the girl. It’s a winding road to the conclusion with many a sharp turn along the way. I was captivated from the first sentence to the last word.

4 STARS

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Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub   Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub        

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Enjoy this peek inside Killer Tracks:
PROLOGUE
Click. Slide. Clang. If he never heard that sound again, it’d be far too soon. That, and the sleepless nights under a thread-bare wool blanket that chafed his exposed skin, the looming threat of death… in the yard, the shower, the halls to and from the cafeteria or his cell. Death and desperation seeped from the pores of this godforsaken place. So thick he could almost taste it. No amount of soap, no amount of ritual, would rid him of the stench that clung to him—though he’d be willing to try. It was over now. Dying among these second-class men would not be his fate. A man of his intellect, a man far superior to the minions around him, deserved better than what he’d endured these past years. He’d eagerly reeducate those who believed otherwise. They’d all see it by the time he was through with them, just like those that came before. Click. Slide. Clang. A voice echoed off the concrete walls. “Inmate 22-A-4242. Gather your crap. Time to go.” He stood, hands to his sides. “Ready to face the world?” He remained silent. None would get the satisfaction of his acknowledgement. The voice continued. “They gave you a goddamn Hail Mary. Bleeding heart liberals anyway. Don’t screw it up.” He bowed his head to obscure his smirk. “Right. I know your type. You’re innocent.” The guard continued rambling. “That’s what all you convicts say. ‘I didn’t do it.’ ‘I was framed.’ ‘It’s unconstitutional.’” The guard’s voice dropped to a growl, prickling his skin. “Tell that to the victims and their families. I’d reckon less than one percent of you bastards got a legit claim.” The guard had forgotten betrayed, of which he surely had been. But he shrugged, not to agree, but to stave off the urge to wrap his hands around the guard’s throat. So close to freedom… Whether he was innocent or not had no bearing; it had not been among the criteria for the help he’d received. Being wrongfully convicted qualified. According to the junior team that had embraced his cause when he’d written the letter, they agreed that’s what had happened in his case. Even if it took them ten years, he loved a system that allowed more loopholes than the cable-knit sweater Mother had dressed him in for school. “Sell it to someone else, you psycho,” the guard snapped. “Bet you money. We’ll see you again real soon.” A jagged smile crossed his face. The guard had part of it correct—but he’d never be back here. Next time, he’d be less gullible. And he intended to snuff out anything that could hurt him, like the light of every other woman who hadn’t seen his worth. CHAPTER ONE Some days, it didn’t pay to get out of bed. Sheriff Jax Turner had experienced more than his fair share of those mornings in the past six years. First, when his daughter Lulu died from leukemia. Then, when his marriage dissolved—more like shattered into a million pieces. Followed by a couple of cases that had tested his limits of trust. They’d destroyed some, too. Today was different. Abby Kanekoa, his ex-wife with whom he’d shared the gutting grief of those past years, had offered hope for reconciliation—the chance to glue a few of those pieces back together. It would never be the same without their little girl… but perhaps they could create something new. Leaving for the mountains just after Labor Day was less than ideal. Though with the tourist season coming to an end in Misty Pines, and Abby due a vacation at the Bureau, it was the best time. Deputy Rachel Killian, his new hire and right hand, was turning out to be as capable as he’d hoped. Applicants for filling the gaps at their station had been sparse. Few, it seemed, wanted to work these days—or work at the often cool and foggy Oregon coast. He’d at least been able to get most of his young crew on full-time payroll, so Rachel had help. Bottom line, getting away was Abby’s idea. He would not tell her no. Now to get through the pep talk with the team. The two major events of the past year had allowed them to punch a few notches into their experience belt, but wisdom and reliance on gut instinct were born with time. Leaving them to run Misty Pines without his guidance had his muscles taut. He entered the sheriff’s office with his duffle flung over his shoulder. “Oh hon, don’t tell me that’s all you’re taking for the week?” Trudy said. Jax’s long-time secretary, and overall, Team Mother to him and his ragtag group of deputies, lifted the headset off her ears. He suppressed a smile. “Glad to see your accident hasn’t made you any less opinionated.” Eight months had passed since the event that had nearly stolen her from him and the team. A warm and fuzzy Trudy would be hard to get used to—he was grateful he didn’t have to learn. Trudy rested the headset around her neck. “Looks like Abby hasn’t given you any clue about where you’re going.” “Other than the mountains, not much. I’ve tossed a few essentials in my truck.” “Like?” “A good book and a board game.” He smiled. “A couple of bottles of wine.” She arched her brow. “What? I’m assuming she’s arranged for us to be at some luxury resort.” “You think so?” “Abby likes her massages, saunas, breakfast in bed.” Not to mention time basking on the deck with a steaming cup of coffee. For being a tough no-nonsense woman, and a hell of an FBI agent, she liked the finer things—and she’d earned every damn one of them. “And what do you like?” Trudy asked. He chuckled. Not much of what he’d just mentioned. “Roughing it.” “Hmmm…and she arranged this for the two of you to reconnect?” His smile faded; he dropped the bag at his feet. “Are we camping?” Trudy laughed and shook her head. “When it comes to women, you do take a minute to catch up. Might I suggest a few more items?” “Like a tent?” He’d have to dig it out of his garage, which wouldn’t take long. “No. But a communication device might come in handy.” “Abby said something about our phones being off for the week.” He shifted on his feet. “Are you saying we’re headed somewhere with no service?” She returned to her desk in response. Of course they were. Several interruptions to his and Abby’s conversations had come from the station over the past months. Too often, when they’d just settled into talk or were on the edge of a sensitive topic. Tourist season was like that every year with the random fender bender, a too-loud party on the beach, a drunken brawl at the pub. Some infraction demanding his attention. Added to that, Brody had slid his motorcycle on wet pavement and nearly dislocated his shoulder in the spring. Garrett had a few interviews in Portland, one in Seattle. Matt was called in to stock shelves by his boss at the IGA grocery store when they were short staffed, which had become more consistent. Time with Abby had been the price, although the last time they’d carved out a night together still brought a smile to his face. Maybe this trip signaled her intention of wanting more quality togetherness. That thought alone made having limited phone access worth it regardless of where they went, even as the uneasiness of being out of contact with his crew niggled at him. He flung the bag back over his shoulder and headed to his office. The click of claws on the linoleum sounded behind him. “Boss.” Rachel and Koa, her black lab, came out of the kitchen. “You all set?” “Almost. Picking Abby up soon for what appears might be a wilderness retreat.” Rachel laughed. “Don’t look so concerned.” “I’m not.” “Uh-huh. That’s why you have a crease between your eyebrows.” He rubbed the spot. “Guess I’m not fond of surprises.” “Never have been myself, but I have a feeling you’ll have fun.” “According to Trudy, I will. Hope Abby does.” It was sweet she’d chosen a place that appealed to him—more imperative if she enjoyed herself. She’d never been one to sleep on the ground. “Believe me, she did good.” “Take it you know where we’re headed?” “Not precisely.” “How about a hint of what you do know, so I’m better prepared?” Having spent far too much time in the dark, he preferred to be ahead of things these days. She did a zipping motion in front of her mouth. “I get that it’ll be difficult for you, but try not to worry. The men and I have everything covered.” He nodded. Letting go of the wheel would never be easy, and in law enforcement things could change quickly. But Rachel was solid, and he trusted her… despite his former partner Jameson not agreeing with him hiring his only daughter. Jax had made the right call; he stood by it. There should be no hesitation about him and Abby taking a week for themselves. “You’ll get a hold of me if there’s a problem?” he said. “You won’t have any way…” “I’m taking the satellite phone.” Rachel folded her arms over her chest. “Suppose that’s smart after the last trek in the wilderness…” “Exactly my thought.” Rachel pursed her lips, likely recalling that day when radio silence had left her and the team wrought with worry as they waited for word on whether Jax and Abby were alive. But Abby should understand his decision, if it came up. Probably better it didn’t. “Let’s do a briefing before I head out,” he said. Rachel winked. “The men are waiting for you in the strategy room.” He chuckled. That’s why there’d been no sign of them when he’d arrived. In his office, he set his duffle bag on a chair, and retrieved the satellite phone, burying it near the bottom in a T-shirt. Once he checked his email for the tenth time and cleared his desk, he started toward the meeting room, until he heard voices in the reception area. Trudy was holding open the station’s door. The men were grabbing their gear about to file out, Rachel and Koa behind them. “What’d I miss?” Jax said. Koa turned at the sound of his voice, trotting to his side. Jax squatted next to her, draping his arm gently over her back. “Nothing to worry about, boss,” Rachel said. “Just a routine traffic revision, chief,” Brody said. “We’ve got it.” He’d gelled down his wispy brown hair today, making him look young. Too young. “I’ve got forty minutes before…” “Oh no you don’t, Jax Turner,” Trudy said. “It’s a half-hour drive to Abby, and you will not be late.” “I—” “We’ve got it, Sheriff,” Rachel said, calling Koa to her. Koa didn’t budge. “Koa’s siding with me on this,” he said. Rachel lifted a brow at her black lab, who promptly returned to her side. Fine. Jax stood. He’d wanted a team he could rely on, and he had one. So why did he feel left out? “Who’s in need of traffic revision anyway?” “Fire department,” Trudy said. “There’s an apartment complex on fire at the edge of town,” Rachel said. Battalion Chief Mike O’Brien rarely requested assistance. With the remaining tourists eking out the last of their holiday weekend there could be a traffic log, he supposed. “I’ll go with you,” Jax said. Rachel held up her hands in a stop gesture. “Please. Get out of here and have a good time.” Before he could protest, Rachel was out the door and Trudy shut it behind them. Through the glass, Jax watched his team slide into two of the patrol cars. “You heard your deputy, hon. Get your stuff and head to Abby’s. And don’t come back until you and that saint of a woman have worked everything out.” Trudy was right. He needed to check his ego. Misty Pines could handle a week without him. A call came through Trudy’s headset which she tapped to answer. She settled behind her desk as he grabbed his bag, her voice fading as he walked outside. “Yes, Mrs. Harper. Just a small fire. Nothing to worry about.” *** Excerpt from Killer Tracks by Mary Keliikoa. Copyright 2025 by Mary Keliikoa. Reproduced with permission from Mary Keliikoa. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Mary Keliikoa:

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Mary Keliikoa

Eighteen years in the legal field, and an over-active imagination, led Mary Keliikoa to plot murder—novels that is. She is the author of the domestic thriller DON’T ASK, DON’T FOLLOW, the newly released KILLER TRACKS, the third book in the Misty Pines mystery series which is an IPPY Silver and Bronze Award winner, Silver Falchion finalist, and a Foreword Indies award finalist, and the Shamus and CLUE Finalist, and Lefty, Agatha and Anthony nominated “PI Kelly Pruett” mystery series. Her short stories have appeared in Woman’s World and the anthology Peace, Love and Crime.

Catch Up With Mary Keliikoa:

MaryKeliikoa.com Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub – @Mary_Keliikoa Instagram – @mary.keliikoa.author Threads – @mary.keliikoa.author X – @mary_keliikoa Facebook – @Mary.Keliikoa.Author

 

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Elf On The Edge By Alina Jacobs ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: December 2, 2025 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
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Elf on the Edge

By Alina Jacobs

 

(The Wynter Brothers, #3)
Publication date: November 4th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

Hire a hitman to take out my cheating ex? It was an eggnog-fueled mistake, I swear!
On Christmas Eve, my perfect fiancé stands up at the altar to declare his pure undying love… for my evil stepsister.
Cue public humiliation, a ruined wedding, and me crawling back to my small hometown to work minimum wage at my granny’s Christmas café.
Just living the holiday dream.

But I refuse to show up sad and alone to my cheating ex and man-stealing stepsister’s engagement party.
I’ll be devoured by gossipy small-town vultures.
So I do what any rational woman would: empty her bank account, max out her credit cards, and hire a high-end escort with the Merry Christmas package.
Too bad I mess up the number and accidentally hire… a hitman.
Oops.
This is why I hate making phone calls.

I realize I’m screwed when Talbot Wynter crashes the party all combat boots, dirty jeans, and washboard abs.
He feels me up, drinks all the booze, flirts with my grandmother, then tries to off my cheating ex in his hotel room.
I scream and make him stop him because I may or may not still pathetically have feelings for my ex.

Talbot thinks I’m insane.
He might be right.
But his company has a strict no-refunds policy.
Now I’m stuck dragging this six-foot-five, potty-mouthed menace of an ex-Marine to Christmas tree cuttings, gingerbread baking, and holiday parties—
All while he tries to convince me to let him take out my ex so he can go snowboarding.

But what if my ex is moved by the holiday spirit and realizes he still loves me and comes home for Christmas?
Or, he would if I could just get this hitman out of my bedroom… and my panties.

Holiday hamster-wheel victims assemble! We’re dodging holiday drama, downing peppermint schnapps, and fending off meddling grandmothers with boundary issues and a death grip on our dating lives. This standalone holiday romantic comedy is packed with chaos, Christmas cookies, and a filthy-mouthed bad boy (and that’s not steel in his pants) guaranteed to leave you swooning under the mistletoe. Happily ever after and holiday cheer guaranteed!

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

“Wait, where are you going? I thought we were having sex,” I wail as he opens up the window and swings one leg out.

“Excuse me?” He swivels back inside and pulls off the black mask. “Why in the hell would I have sex with you?”

“Are you kidding me right now? Are you fucking—because you’re a fucking prostitute.” I’m sobbing now. “And I paid you a fuck-ton of money to pretend to be my boyfriend and to have sex with me.”

His mouth drops open.

It would be funny if all my money weren’t gone.

“Gumdrop.” He jumps back into the room, the soft shoes silent on the carpet. “You did what?”

“You’re a high-end escort, but you really don’t live up to the promise.” I sniffle.

I’m fishing for more mini bottles. Talbot slams the fridge door.

“You really have drunk too much.” He cups my face. “Gumdrop. You paid me to assassinate your ex, Austen Langley. Remember?”

“Assassinate? Like kill, kill? Or just like, you’re going to glitter-bomb him?” I squeak.

“Yeah, ‘Grandma gets run over by a reindeer’ level of dead.”

My knees collapse, and I plop down on the floor like Christmas cookie dough.

“I did a… you’re a… I hired an…”

“Assassin?” He unzips the black bag and pulls out the biggest gun. Like, comically large. Movie-villain large. Plus three knives and what might be a torture device along with zip ties and duct tape.

My stomach twists.

“I prefer hitman,” he says, cheerful, like we’re chatting over wine and charcuterie. “Assassin sounds a little bougie. I just kill people and make it look like an accident.”

“I’ve made a huge mistake,” I groan.

“For Austen,” he rambles, obviously pleased with himself, “it’s going to look like he partied too hard and paid the price.”

“Then, but the—” I point to the gun, trying not to hyperventilate.

“This?” he gives it a kiss. “Just a little insurance policy in case things go south. But I have a pretty good plan in place. No one will think he’s been murdered. Everyone saw him downing drink after drink. All the women are off in the hot tub. All his NHL friends are super drunk.”

Talbot shows me his phone. There’s Brielle on the livestream doing a stripper dance, all for the eyes of my fake boyfriend. Shoot, my fake fake boyfriend, because…

Because a cold-blooded killer is standing in my suite, grinning like this is the most fun he’s had in weeks. I start scooching back on the carpet.

Now that I see it, I can’t unsee it. The dead eyes, the total lack of empathy in his face, the glee as he describes how he’s going to kill Austen, my Austen, my one true love.

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About Author Alina Jacobs:

I write the kind of books I love—romantic comedies featuring snarly guys with hearts of gold, kick-ass heroines, and a swoon-worthy happily ever after! Also wine. And cupcakes.

When I’m not writing I can be found drinking tea, surrounded by my massive to-be-read pile! So many books…

You can connect with me on social media or find information on my books at my website.

Sign up for my newsletter so that you can get information about new releases, giveaways, and more!

http://alinajacobs.com/mailinglist.html

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Bookbub / Newsletter

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Bad Crush On A Rockstar By Kitt Henley ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: December 1, 2025 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
Tags: ,
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Bad Crush on a Rockstar

By Kitt Henley

 

(Soulmates, #3)
Publication date: November 25th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

A spicy brother’s-best-friend romance featuring a cinnamon roll rockstar hero haunted by his past, a plucky heroine with a childhood crush, slow seduction, hometown shows, and rapidly crumbling resolve.

She’s my best friend’s little sister, and she’s got a bad crush. But I’m the one who can’t stay away from her.

SEAN: When I first laid eyes on Brooke Halsey, she was just a sweet, freckle-faced kid with enormous glasses and an even bigger crush on me.

But there’s no denying she’s all grown up now.

She’s running the merch table while my rock band’s home on tour, and even though we’ve never been more than good friends, I know she’s game. I’d totally go for it too, if I didn’t already know I’d break her heart, destroy my band, and lose Jonah—our drummer, my best friend, and her brother.

He’s made it clear he does not want me messing around with his little sister. He knows Brooke’s serious about finding love and playing for keeps. So a rock musician with no fallback plan and no permanent address is the last thing she needs.

Which is why I’m in deep trouble right now…

Because last night…I kissed her.

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The Soulmates Series: Two bands. Three shows. Four happily ever afters.
Bad Crush on a Rockstar is a complete romance with no cliffhanger. This story can be enjoyed as a stand-alone or read as the third book in the Soulmates interwoven rockstar romance series.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

“Knock, knock,” Lexie croons through the curtain, her knuckles rapping at the edge of my bunk. “We’re just about there, if you need to pack up.”

“Thanks.” I slide the curtain to one side and sit up, swinging my legs over the edge as I rub my eyes. I peer through the large bay window at the Chicago skyline shimmering in the sun as we roll along the freeway.

Artie and our backup driver took shifts all night and all through the day to get us here. We usually sleep on the bus when we’re on tour, but since we’re here for several days, the label offered to put us up in a hotel. Anthony opted to stay at his family’s penthouse this week because it’s nearby and empty right now, but the rest of us were happy to accept. We all grew up here, so we could’ve crashed with family or friends, but using the hotel as a home base simplifies things. It gives us some space and privacy to decompress, and it also helps avoid some of the social demands of being back in town. I’m looking forward to having a little privacy and sleeping in a normal-size bed for a change.

I’m still organizing my bunk area as the bus turns down Michigan Avenue. I pick out some clothes for the week and stuff them into my large duffle bag.

We pull up in front of the hotel, and I sling my duffle over my shoulder.

“You kids have a good time, now, all right?” Artie calls back to us. “Be safe.”

“Will do. Thanks for the ride, Artie, and have a great rest of the week!” I lug my bag down the aisle and push open the side door.

A gust of cold air rushes inside, whipping the door panel from my grip and slamming it against the exterior of the bus.

“Whoa.” I step outside, holding an arm out to brace the door as the other two exit.

“Good old Chicago,” Lexie jokes.

I glance up toward the hotel. The Drake in downtown Chicago is a sight to behold. We’ve stayed here once before, but it still takes my breath away. This place is fancy. Sleek, clean lines of gleaming beige stone. This kind of extravagance is always a shock to my system.

The bellhop places our luggage on a cart, and the doorman holds the door for us, then we cross the smooth carpeted floor to the elegant front desk.

“Three reservations for Garrett Music Industries,” Jonah says to the man behind the counter, then he winks at Lexie.

I glance over to catch her reaction, but she’s staring straight ahead like nothing happened.

Something’s up with those two. But they’re always playing games and finding ways to compete with each other, so who knows what this is about.

My luggage shows up at the room just as I do, and I stretch out on the bed to relax for a minute before hopping in the shower.

The water’s hot and the pressure’s fantastic—about a thousand times better than on the bus. I let it run over my shoulders, easing the tension in my back. My mind is already shifting to Brooke. Seeing her tonight.

Because here’s the thing.

I love Brooke.

Not in a romantic way—at least, it’s never been that way between us. No, I love Brooke in an honest, good, and true kind of way. The way it feels when you realize you would do anything for a person. That you would always be there for them, no matter what.

Brooke’s done that for me too, right from the start. She noticed I was struggling with school and offered to help. When she found out I wanted to start playing bass, she came up with a plan for me to earn enough money doing odd jobs so I could buy one off a friend.

From that very first day my family moved into their house, she was finding thoughtful things to do and making lighthearted jokes to keep the mood up. And it helped. It didn’t feel so awkward being there, living in their home and taking up their space.

She had this sweet, round face full of freckles and thick glasses that made her brown eyes look enormous—almost big enough to match her outsized personality. She was adorable.

But then she grew up.

It was hard not to notice, because once she started to develop, it happened fast. I remember Jonah and I were walking through the halls on the first day of senior year, and I was looking around for any cute new faces on campus. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I spotted a girl with a pair of the most beautiful breasts I’d ever seen in my life.

I leaned toward Jonah, whispering, “Check it out, nine o’clock,” and angling a thumb at the hottie with the body that just wouldn’t quit.

“What the fuck, man?” Jonah scowled, his expression suddenly menacing. “Shut the fuck up!”

Imagine my horror when the hot little number turned to face me and I realized I was checking out Jonah’s little sister.

“Holy shit. I didn’t even recognize her with…uh…without her glasses on.”

It was too late. The damage was done.

Brooke was only fourteen, for God’s sake. I felt like a monster, but she smiled so big and came over to hug both of us. It was all I could do not to stare straight at those incredible breasts and wonder what the hell happened over the summer.

Jonah was chilly around me for days after, and I felt like a total ass. I’d never had a friend like Jonah, and I hated that I’d done something to damage our relationship. I had to apologize multiple times, but eventually he seemed to forgive me.

“Seriously, man. Hands off my sister,” he warned, and I nodded.

“For sure, man. I swear to God, I would never lay a hand on her.” I made him that promise, and I meant it.

But toward the middle of senior year, things got…complicated. Brooke and I had been spending a lot of time together at the library while she helped me study for midterms, and one afternoon she had on this short green dress that showed more of her cleavage than I was accustomed to dealing with. Still, I managed to keep my eyes off her chest and up toward her pretty face, for the most part.

She was reading me an excerpt from George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, but I couldn’t concentrate. There was this shiny gloss she had on, and it made that bottom lip look so juicy and delicious that I couldn’t stop staring at it. Just watching her beautiful mouth as she read was sending this tingle up and down my spine. My jeans felt tight, and I realized she was giving me a serious hard-on.

I cut our study session short and tried to adjust myself without anyone noticing. I booked it out of there so fast she must have wondered what the hell happened. I kicked myself all the way home, because what the fuck was I doing having sexual feelings for Brooke? She was my best friend’s little sister. I felt like the universe was playing some kind of cruel joke on me, putting such a wonderful young person inside that smoking hot body.

And she Just. Kept. Getting. Hotter.

Of course, by the time she was old enough for me to act on my feelings—assuming I would even go there, given she’s a good friend and Jonah’s sister and all, which I wouldn’t—it was clear Brooke was destined for better things than a guy like me. While I was off working odd jobs in construction and trying to get a band started, Brooke was completing the Visual Design program at Carnegie Mellon University on a full merit scholarship.

I never should have responded to her seductive tease on the phone today. She’s always playing around like that, flirting with me, and normally I keep it in check. But I got caught up in the moment, and when she took that sultry tone with me, I went with it. I played along with her sexy little game, because—let’s face it—Brooke is hot as hell, and it feels good to be wanted by her.

It feels way too good.

Which is exactly why I cannot be flirting with her. I don’t ever want to ruin the close friendship we have. Plus, she’s had a crush on me since middle school, and she’s naïve about love. She doesn’t realize I’m the last fucking thing she needs, so I can’t be toying with her emotions like that—getting her hopes up that something might happen between us when I know damn well it would never work.

She dreams of having kids someday, the sooner the better. She’s looking for something serious. Long-term. But I don’t have the kind of career that can support a family, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to repeat my dad’s mistakes—bringing children into an unstable financial situation.

No, if I keep this flirting shit up she’s gonna end up getting hurt, and I’ll only have myself to blame.

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About Author Kitt Henley:

Kitt Henley writes short, spicy contemporary romance with relatable characters, a touch of humor, and tons of heart. Never one to make it through a good romance (or cookie commercial) with dry eyes, Kitt’s heartstrings are easy to pull on. When she played in rock bands and crunched numbers in the Seattle tech world, those waterworks weren’t an asset, but after a friend suggested she try writing romance, everything clicked into place. From the moment she sat down to write her first novel, she knew she’d found her calling.

When she’s not wrangling words in her tiny bedroom office, Kitt loves to spend time with her high school best friend (a.k.a. her rockstar husband) and their two ridiculously funny boys. She’s still holding out hope for that family band someday, but in the meantime she’ll happily settle for camping trips, board games, long walks with friends, and watching lots and lots of thrillers.

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Her Filthy Enemy By Adele Knight ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: November 30, 2025 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
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Her Filthy Enemy

By Adele Knight

 

(Her Sweet Seduction)
Publication date: November 28th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

What do you do when snowed in alone with an arrogant flirt?

Don’t walk in on him in the shower.
Too late.
I can’t look away, and Noah loves the attention.
But it doesn’t mean anything…
He’s the guy who never goes home alone, and I’m the shy book nerd whose idea of a good time is staying late at the library and binging on red licorice.
Noah thinks I’m so forgettable that he can’t remember my name, even though we share the same group of friends. So when the roads clear and our mutual friends finally turn up, including Eric—the sweet guy who wants to be more than friends—I’m determined to forget about water dripping off muscles and fists wrapped around…
But now Noah’s acting differently. Sitting close to me, touching me, calling me by my actual name…
It’s almost like he’s jealous, but that’s ridiculous.
Except, I swear the bathroom door was unlocked before I walked in.
Noah didn’t leave it open on purpose…or did he?

Contains MF, FF scenes, and an MMC who likes to watch.

This is a short and steamy novella in Her Sweet Seduction Series. Each novella is stand-alone with new characters and spicy scenarios to enjoy anytime—but especially fun as a bedtime treat.

Add to Goodreads / Now on Audio

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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About Author Adele Knight:

Adele Knight likes her red wine with chocolate and her sweet romances with lots of heat. Her spicy stories are a bedtime treat with enough spark to warm your sheets and alluring characters to make you beg for more.
When she’s not writing, Adele can be found lost in other fantasy worlds. Whether it’s a hairy beast and a talking candle-stick or black leather and heels, Adele loves her heroines feisty and her heroes irresistible.

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Sangrita By Kathryn Dodson ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: November 27, 2025 in crime fiction, Excerpt, giveaways
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Sangrita by Kathryn Dodson Banner

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SANGRITA
by Kathryn Dodson
November 17 – December 12, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
Jessica Watts Southwest Suspense Series

 

A kidnapping scheme turns deadly when private investigator Jessica Watts becomes the hunted instead of the hunter.

Jessica Watts refuses to work with her nemesis Tomas Garcia—until his desperate wife arrives with their baby, begging Jessica to find Tomas’s missing father. Tres Garcia vanished after marrying his late wife’s cousin Letty in a secret ceremony, and now Letty claims he’s too sick for visitors. When Jessica discovers bloody medical supplies in Letty’s trash, someone knocks her unconscious and she awakens trapped in a nightmare. Held prisoner for days with Tres’s life-support machine beeping nearby, Jessica realizes Letty is running a deadly operation with border coyotes—ruthless smugglers who eliminate witnesses. The kidnapping is part of an elaborate scheme to steal Tres’s fortune, and with the coyotes closing in with orders to kill everyone, Jessica must overcome her terror and escape before Letty’s greed destroys them all—but will the tough investigator she’s always been survive becoming the prey?

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Book Details:

Genre: Crime Fiction, Women’s Detective Fiction

Published by: Renegade Reads Publication Date: November 21, 2025 Number of Pages: 220 ISBN: 979-8-9903577-7-8 Series: Jessica Watts Southwest Suspense Series, Book 4 | Each is a Stand-Alone

Book Links: Amazon | KindleUnlimited | Goodreads | BookBub

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Enjoy this peek inside:
Chapter 1
Jessica let the mental exhaustion take hold for a minute, then shook it off. Eighteen months to go. If she survived that, she’d be a lawyer and hopefully move from the reception desk to the courtroom. She settled into her chair. “I’m back,” she called to her boss. Linda owned the one person firm housed in a quaint old home turned law office in downtown El Paso. Jessica ran her fingers across the antique, inlaid cherry desk. She’d started here less than a year ago, but she already loved this place. “Hey, how was the test?” Linda strode into the room and plopped down in front of her. A perfect-fitting Armani suit and a blonde blowout softened the toughness shining through Linda’s blue eyes. The creases in her face told the world she’d faced a few battles. “Tough, but I’m pretty sure I passed,” Jessica said. Linda smiled, then cocked her head, a question appearing in her eyes. “I bet your father would be proud.” Jessica bristled, the ache returning to her shoulders and prickles of tension running across her skin. Linda hadn’t brought up Jessica’s dad since the first time they met. Jessica hated how her father’s conviction for destroying evidence in a drug case shaded her pending law career. He’d been El Paso’s district attorney at the time. That embarrassment held Jessica back for too many years. She’d gotten past it, mostly, especially since her father’s passing. She shrugged her shoulders in response then willfully changed the subject. “Has it been quiet here?” “Surprisingly so. But who knows what will walk in the door next?” Linda glanced out the large window as if she expected to see someone trotting up the steps. She turned back to Jessica. “Do you have any new projects on the horizon? You know, human remains under a pecan tree or a missing heiress?” Jessica’s reputation for finding things, missing people, murderers, had ratcheted up since she started working with Linda. She shook her head. “No more wild cases for me. I need to keep my head down and finish school. I keep getting waylaid by these other projects. It’s too hard to focus on law school and my work here when I’m off solving someone else’s mystery.” Linda studied Jessica. “Maybe, but I think you like striking out on your own, solving someone’s problem, and coming back a hero. Practicing law is so different than that. It’s tedious and requires an extraordinary amount of patience while the wheels of justice turn.” Did Linda doubt her aspirations? Not every case would be exciting, but lately, she could use a little less excitement in her life. “Perhaps,” Jessica said. “But you’re a lot less likely to be confronted by people pointing guns at you or burning down the house you’re trapped in.” “True. At least most of the time.” Jessica wondered about her answer. “Is that why you left the police force and became an attorney?” She had heard about Linda’s first career from Jaime Castro, a lieutenant on the El Paso police force and one of her oldest friends. Based on the admiration in his voice, Linda had excelled as a police officer. “Not really.” Linda’s gaze softened, as if remembering something from long ago. “The problem with police work is that you don’t get to choose your cases. When they don’t seem fair, it becomes hard to put your heart into the job.” Jessica waited for an explanation. What kind of case would make someone as tough as Linda walk away? For a minute, Jessica thought she would say more. But instead, her boss changed the subject. “Why don’t we go over the upcoming cases?” When they finished, Linda headed back to her office. Jessica had just turned to her computer when she spied someone coming toward the door. Someone she did not want to see. Tomás Garcia loped up the steps and opened the door before Jessica could escape. If only her test had taken longer. “Hi, Jessica. It’s good to see you.” He sat in the chair Linda had just vacated as if he owned the place. He didn’t. And when he’d tracked her down at a party a few weeks ago, she’d told him she didn’t want to see him again. Yet here he sat. The audacity of rich men never failed to surprise her. “Why are you here?” She threw all the surliness she could muster into her voice. “Is that any way to treat a potential client?” “Tomás, I made it clear that I would never work with you again. You do remember you tried to kill me the last time.” And the time before that, she’d almost died at the hands of someone he’d forgotten to tell her dealt drugs. “I wouldn’t have killed you. I am not a murderer. I was just angry. I thought you had taken something I considered mine.” “That something was a human being, and she didn’t want to be with you. You’ve lost your chance with me.” He steepled his fingers and stared across the desk. “We have a long history, and we’ve worked well together in the past.” Arrogance wafted off him like a bad smell. Jessica scanned her desk for something to throw at him or stab him with. Life was way too short to tolerate assholes like this. He held his hands up in surrender, as if he could read her mind. “You’re right. That last time was horrible. I shouldn’t have done so many of the things I did then. I’m sorry. I promise I’m a different man now. And I need your help.” Fire lit in her veins. She had already taken too many chances with Tomás. Jessica took a deep breath and tried to keep from spitting at him. “You need to leave. There is no way in hell you’ve changed enough in the last few years for me to consider working for you.” She wouldn’t physically attack him, but she tried her best to stare daggers into his soul. “Please. Let me explain. I’m married to a wonderful woman now. We have a son, and he’s the most important thing in my life. Becoming a father changes a person. I’m a much better man today. Also, I lost my mother a year ago, and I’m worried about losing my father. That’s what I need to talk to you about.” Of course, curiosity gnawed at her, but it wasn’t enough. She loathed this man. “You do realize that waltzing in here expecting me to listen to you after I’ve already told you no means you’re still the entitled jerk you’ve always been.” “I’m not. I swear. Please, just hear me out. I think someone is trying to kill my father.” “So. Go to the police.” “I have, but I can’t get anywhere with them. My dad remarried just a few months after my mom died. His new wife has completely denied me access to him.” “Didn’t you hate your dad? How many times have you told me you wanted to build an empire even bigger than his? Maybe he just doesn’t want to see you.” “Things are different now. After…after what happened with Doraliz, I had to change. I wasn’t a man I could be proud of, and I certainly wasn’t a son my mother could respect. But she didn’t give up on me. Instead, she helped me see what a terrible person I’d become and gave me a way to recover.” “Whatever. I don’t care, and I want you to leave.” Jessica refused to buy his rich boy sob story. He should have ended up in jail. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, blue eyes staring her down, probably his attempt at acting earnest. “I know how selfish and hurtful and conceited I was. I know, and I hate that version of myself. I understand why you don’t want to work with me, but my father’s life is on the line. You have a knack for solving mysteries. I’ve seen you do it. I need your help to save my father.” “It’s not going to happen. And if you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops.” Jessica picked up her phone and hit the timer, then turned it to face him. “You’ve got sixty seconds to get out of this office.” Exasperation crossed Tomás’s features. He sighed and started to say something. Then he shut his mouth, rose, and walked out the door. She hoped she’d never see him again. Linda emerged the minute he left. From the look on her face, she’d heard the conversation. “I didn’t know you had such a long, involved relationship with Mr. Garcia.” Linda sat in the probably still warm chair. “Yeah. Unfortunately.” Jessica said nothing more, hoping Linda would drop it. She preferred to avoid the whole sordid tale. Linda watched Jessica for a long moment but didn’t press her for more information. “You do know that you’re always welcome to work on outside cases. Soon enough you’ll have your own legal cases.” “I look forward to that, but not with him.” “Fine. You should head home early tonight. Go celebrate finishing midterms with that handsome husband of yours.” “Thanks.” She did want to celebrate, although she’d stayed up so late cramming, she’d require a second wind to do anything other than crawl into bed. Or maybe a shot or two of tequila to help her forget torts. And Tomás’s visit. *** Excerpt from Sangrita by Kathryn Dodson. Copyright 2025 by Kathryn Dodson. Reproduced with permission from Kathryn Dodson. All rights reserved.

 

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About Author Kathryn Dodson:

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Kathryn Dodson

Kathryn writes about women who have to become their own heroes – whether they’re solving a crime or figuring out the next phase of their lives. She grew up writing and riding horses in far West Texas. She graduated from SMU in English/Creative Writing and went on to get an MBA from Thunderbird and a PhD from Clemson. Now she spends her days writing about women who become their own heroes. She has worked on both sides of the US/Mexico border and has held jobs with governments, chambers of commerce, and other businesses. Kathryn loves to travel and has visited 30 countries and 44 states. This inspires her novels about interesting women in fascinating places. Originally from Texas, Kathryn had the good fortune to live in Spain, Mexico, Tanzania, and several U.S. states, and the good sense to end up in Carlsbad, California. She loves travel, fiery food, hanging out with the neighbors in the front yard on Friday evenings, and reading.

Catch Up With Kathryn Dodson:

www.KathrynDodson.com Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub – @KathrynDodson Instagram – @kathrynbdodson Threads – @kathrynbdodson LinkedIn – @kathydodson Facebook – @kathy.dodson.31

 

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This giveaway is hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Kathryn Dodson. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

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Murder At The Moulin Rouge By Carol Pouliot ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: November 26, 2025 in Excerpt, giveaways, Historical, Mystery
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Murder at the Moulin Rouge by Carol Pouliot Banner

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MURDER AT THE MOULIN ROUGE
by Carol Pouliot
November 3 – 28, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
A Blackwell and Watson Time-Travel Mystery

  Paris, 1895. When a cancan dancer at the Moulin Rouge falls to her death from the top of one of Montmartre’s highest staircases, the police dismiss it as an accident. But, Madeleine was one of Toulouse-Lautrec’s favorite models, and the artist is certain she was murdered. Enter Depression-era detective Steven Blackwell and 21st-century journalist Olivia Watson who travel back in time to Paris to hunt down the killer. Before long, they learn that a second dancer—a ballerina and favorite model of painter Edgar Degas—has died. Two dancers dead in two weeks. Two artists grieving. Is the killer targeting young dancers, or, does this case involve the enigmatic Paris art world? From the moment Steven and Olivia arrive, Steven is out of his element. The small-town cop has no idea what techniques the French police use in 1895. Worse, he has no official status to investigate murder in one of the world’s largest cities. The sleuths soon discover disturbing secrets at the Paris Ballet. And when Olivia insists on going undercover to visit a suspect’s house alone, Steven fears he’s made the biggest mistake of his life. Travel back in time with Steven and Olivia, as they enter the back-stabbing world of dance in one of the world’s greatest cities. Murder at the Moulin Rouge is their most daring and dangerous case to date.

 

Book Details:

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Genre: Traditional Police Procedural with a Time-Travel Twist; Historical Mystery.

Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: September 23, 2025 Number of Pages: 325 Series: The Blackwell and Watson Time-Travel Mysteries, #5

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Level Best Books

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MY REVIEW

Time travel books. They weren’t something I gravitated to. I did enjoy some movies. Especially Somewhere In Time. Then, one day, I watched The Time Traveler’s Wife. That movie took me deeper into the idea of time travel. Not so much whether it could be done. It was more about the consequences. The personal ones.

So I started reading some books. And I came across this series. The description really intrigued me. A journalist, Olivia Watson, living in 2015. A detective, Steven Blackwell, living in the 1930s. Ooh, time travel, a mystery and an possible a romance. Sounded fun.

I first met Steven and Olivia in Death Rang The Bell and followed them into RSVP To Murder . Then I read this one, the fifth book in the series. The synopsis sounded so exciting. So tangled. And it was. Since this is further along in the series, and I’d not read all the books, you’d think I might struggle to jump back in. Not so. I just started it as a stand alone and let the author lead me. And lead me she did. Right to Paris and a plot that kept me curious. I really need to go back and read the first two books. I’m certain they will be equally as fun.

4 STARS

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The Blackwell and Watson Time-Travel Mystery Series

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Doorway to Murder by Carol Pouliot Doorway to Murder Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub   Threshold of Deceit by Carol Pouliot Threshold of Deceit Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub   Death Rang the Bell by Carol Pouliot Death Rang the Bell Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub   RSVP to Murder by Carol Pouliot, Cover RSVP to Murder Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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Chapter One
December 25, 1934 Knightsbridge, New York
“I need you to come to Paris.” “You need what?” he asked. Detective Steven Blackwell stared at the younger version of his mother standing in the room that had been her studio. Jaw dropped, eyes like saucers. He could barely speak. “I need you—and your friend Olivia, if you like—to come to Paris. There’s been a murder and the police aren’t doing anything,” said Evangéline. “I thought I heard a voice a minute ago. Was that Olivia? Why don’t you get her? She’s probably wondering what’s going on.” In a daze, and feeling like he had no control over his actions, Steven turned away from the vision of his mother and stumbled out into the hallway. He saw Olivia still waiting in the doorway at the end of the hall. Her hand flew to her chest, and she heaved a great sigh. “Oh, my God, you’re okay! What’s going on? I thought I heard voices. Is somebody here?” As he came closer, she noticed the look on his face. “What’s wrong? You look funny.” “It’s my mother. My mother’s here.” “What?” “She looks as real as you do, but she’s young, around our age. She said she needs me to go to Paris. And you should come too.” “What?” For one terrifying moment, Olivia wondered if a year of grieving had unhinged Steven’s mind. How could his mother be here? Evangéline Neuilly Blackwell died last January. Steven repeated Evangéline’s instructions. “She said I should come get you.” He held out his hand. Olivia took it and stepped over the threshold into 1934. They moved slowly down the hall then paused at the doorway to look at each other. Steven squeezed her hand. Olivia nodded. They both took a deep breath then entered Evangéline’s studio. There in the shadowy room stood a beautiful woman, shoulder-length copper hair shining in the lamplight. She was slender, taller than average, and wore a stunning emerald dress, the kind French women wore to perfection. A wool coat with a fur collar had been thrown over the back of a chair. She held out her hand toward Olivia. “Hello. I’m Evangéline Neuilly. I’m so happy to meet you.” Olivia had always wanted to meet Steven’s exotic-sounding mother—a famous French artist—but that possibility had died along with Evangéline. Or so she had thought. Olivia told herself to close her mouth, which had fallen open, and shook the woman’s hand. “Olivia Watson.” Evangéline looked at Steven. “I can tell you’re surprised to see me. I must not have told you about my ability to time travel. Surely, you wondered why you can? And if your father or I also had that ability?” “Eh, no. Not really.” Evangéline rolled her eyes and gave Olivia a look that said, Men, huh? Olivia couldn’t help grinning. “Well,” Evangéline opened her arms wide, “here’s the answer to your unasked question. You got it from me.” Olivia recovered first. “So, Evangéline, you traveled here from…when?” “1895. And I really need your help. Both of you.” She shook her head and waved her hand back and forth. “I know. I know. You have a lot of questions. Let’s go downstairs and have something to drink. I’ll tell you what has happened.” They trouped down the stairs and into the living room. “I know I must have lived in this house for some time and I assume I decorated this room….” Evangéline turned to Steven for confirmation. “Yes, we lived here about twenty years or so before you….” He swallowed hard. “Before I died,” she whispered, then patted his hand. “Pauvre chouchou. Poor sweetheart. I’m so sorry. But, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know when. Of course, I have an idea. But not the exact date.” She opened a door in the sideboard. “Bon! A bottle of red.” She handed the wine to Steven. Still dazed, he opened it and poured a glass for each of them. Evangéline curled up in a leather chair. Steven and Olivia sat facing her on the couch. His mother took a sip and pursed her lips. “Not bad. So, listen, we must act fast. A young girl has been killed but the police do nothing. They say it was an accident. We know it was not. I want you to find out who killed Madeleine Gervaise.” His cop’s instincts kicked in, and Steven found himself intrigued. Who was Madeleine Gervaise? How did she die? Why do the police think it was an accident? And what was her connection to Evangéline? Suddenly, Steven remembered something Sherlock Holmes once said: “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” And with that assurance, he snapped out of his stupor and accepted his mother’s bewildering appearance. He leaned forward. “All right, let’s say, for the sake of argument, that I can and will go to Paris. Answer these questions.” He ticked them off his fingers. “Why do the police think it was an accident? How do you know it wasn’t? When did this happen?” Evangéline placed her feet on the floor and mirrored him, ticking her answers off her fingers. Olivia almost laughed at the two of them. Talk about a chip off the old block, as her grandfather used to say. “She fell on one of the tall staircases in Montmartre. The police say she slipped on the ice. My friend Henri knows the human body and how it works. He says the…how do you say ‘marks of black and blue’?” “Bruises,” Olivia chimed in. “We also say black-and-blue marks.” “Ah! Bon. Henri says the bruises prove someone pushed her. It happened late Sunday night, early Monday morning. Today is already Wednesday. That is why we must move fast.” Steven groaned, thinking of the days lost. “Is Henri a doctor?” “No, an artist. But, believe me, Steven, he knows the body. If Henri says she was pushed, she was pushed.” “So, again, if we were to do this, how would it work?” “We must go with all speed. That means we must travel in Olivia’s time in one of those fast aeroplanes. That’s how I got here so quickly.” “Wait, how do you know about Olivia?” “Oh, mon Dieu, the questions! It is a long story but if it will help speed this up…last summer, I traveled to 1934, to America, with someone on business that had nothing to do with you or my future. When I was in New York City, I saw a photograph in a newspaper of the painting I’m working on right now. The article said a museum in Chicago had bought it and gave information about me, you, and your father. While my friend was completing his business, I had a couple of days to myself, so I took a train here and came to this house. Naturally, I was curious, so I came in and looked around. You really shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked, you know. Anyway, I saw the photograph of Olivia on your dresser. You have her name and the year 2014 written on the back. I realized you had inherited my ability to time travel and that Olivia also had the gift.” Evangéline blew out her cheeks. “Can we not return to the problem at hand now?” Steven grinned. “Yeah, okay. You know, I always thought you learned English when you moved here with Dad. You speak really well.” She rolled her eyes. “As you must know, my father is a professor of English at the Sorbonne. He taught me when I was a child.” She took a drink of her wine. “Now, to our problème…I went through the portal in Paris, from 1895 to Olivia’s time.” “Why did you go into Olivia’s time?” “If you keep interrupting me, we will never get anywhere. Just listen.” Evangéline took another drink of wine and went on. “Time is of the essence, as it’s already been almost three days. We must travel into 2014 and go to New York City as quickly as possible. Someone there will help us with what we need. Tomorrow night, we’ll fly to Paris. Once we’re there, we’ll travel back to 1895.” “You make it sound easy. But I have so many questions,” Steven persisted. “How are we going to pay for all this? How do I get a passport fast enough to fly tomorrow? What about other things we might need?” His mother tilted her head toward the ceiling and sighed. “You think I have come all this way without a plan? Before I left, Henri gave me a sketch. There’s a man in New York City—you will soon learn we have travel agents in cities all over the world who help us. This man in New York City, a place called Brooklyn, is selling the sketch for me, so we’ll have plenty of money. He’ll make a passport and other documents for you, Steven, just as someone in Paris made mine so I could come here.” Evangéline turned to Olivia. “Do you have a passport? Do you drive an automobile?” “Yes. And I have a car.” “Can you take us to New York City tomorrow morning so we can get Steven’s documents and the money to buy our tickets for the aeroplane? We must leave for Paris tomorrow night.” “Sure. Listen, Evangéline, I’m sorry to hear about your friend Madeleine.” “Thank you. She was lovely—a dancer and one of Henri’s favorite models. Such a waste.” “Who is Henri? And why would anybody buy one of his sketches?” “Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. I think he is well known in your time, Olivia.” “Toulouse-Lautrec?” Olivia gasped. “He’s a friend of yours?” “Yes, and he’s now your employer.” Olivia’s jaw dropped. Evangéline reached out toward Steven with her empty wineglass then settled back in the chair after he’d refilled it. “Now, let us talk about tomorrow. You must both pack a small bag. Steven, bring any tools or objects you will need to investigate. I don’t know what they might be, but that is most important. When we travel to my Paris in 1895, you can borrow clothes belonging to my friend Théo. He’s away on business right now. His wardrobe is filled with additional items—suits, shirts, collars, and so forth. There’s a cloak and hat as well. Olivia, we’re about the same size. I’m happy to share my clothes with you. I have plenty of skirts and dresses. I have an extra cloak, too. Just bring your personal things.” Suddenly, Steven realized he had been given a gift. After a long, difficult year of grieving, he had the chance to spend time with the woman who would become his mother. How could he possibly say no? “I’m sorry, but I have to interrupt again,” Steven said, grinning at Evangéline. “Before it gets too late, I need to call the chief to tell him a family emergency has come up and I need a few days off.” He stood and headed for the phone, then stopped. He turned around and walked back to Evangéline. “I know this is going to be weird for you. You don’t even know me yet. But I have missed you so much!” And he bent down and kissed his mother’s cheek. *** Excerpt from Murder at the Moulin Rouge by Carol Pouliot . Copyright 2025 by Carol Pouliot . Reproduced with permission from Carol Pouliot . All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Carol Pouliot:

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Carol Pouliot

A former language teacher and business owner, Carol Pouliot writes the acclaimed Blackwell and Watson Time-Travel Mysteries, traditional police procedurals with a seemingly impossible relationship between a Depression-era cop and a 21st-century journalist. With their fast pace and unexpected twists and turns, the books have earned praise from readers and mystery authors. Carol is a founding member of Sleuths and Sidekicks, 4 mystery writers who have banded together to share their love of mysteries, immediate Past President and Program Chair of her Sisters in Crime chapter, and Co-Chair of Murderous March, an online mystery conference. When not writing, Carol can be found packing her suitcase and reaching for her passport for her next travel adventure.

Catch Up With Our Author:

www.carolpouliot.com Sleuths and Sidekicks Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub – @cpouliot13 Instagram – @carolpouliotmysterywriter Pinterest – @cpouliot13 Facebook – @WriterCarolPouliot

 

Tour Participants:

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Tamanrasett By Edward Parr ~ Guest Post and Giveaway

Posted: November 25, 2025 in Excerpt, giveaways, Guest Post, Historical
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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Tamanrasett organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Edward Parr will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

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

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Tamanrasett

By Edward Parr

 

 

Genre: Historical Fiction

Synopsis

TAMANRASSET is historical fiction set on the edge of the Sahara as the ancient world begins to fade and great empires collide. Four strangers—a mature Foreign Legionnaire, a Sharif’s wrathful son, an ambitious American archaeologist, and an abandoned Swedish widow—become adrift and isolated, but when their paths intersect, the fragile connections between them tell a story of survival and fate on the edge of the abyss. Blending the sweep of classic adventure with the horror of a great historical calamities, Edward Parr’s TAMANRASSET is a saga about the crossroads where nomads meet.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Demoreau knelt beside Lieutenant Claussen. The Sergent had been in plenty of actions during more than twenty years of service in the Legion: The sun beating down, the barrel of his rifle smoking and hot from constant firing, the taste of sand and sulfur in his mouth as he and his comrades fought off their enraged enemy with nerves of steel and cooler heads. “Que voulez-vous? C’est la Legion!” A part of him relished it. He had a calmness of mind gained through years of experience and training. As he raised his rifle to aim at the advancing tribesmen, he recalled to his mind the melody of a fine composition, the death waltz by Saint-Saëns, which unrolled in his inner ear, turning his blood to ice. He hummed the tune as his rifle fired and his deadly accurate shooting dropped one rider after another.

Claussen was a good Lieutenant and had plenty of courage, but that did not mean he couldn’t benefit from Demoreau’s experience. The Sergent turned and faced his commander: “We’re being overwhelmed and losing too many men, Sir: We can’t maintain this position. We must move east onto the ridge where there’s cover among the rocks.”

“I know, but it may be too far, Sergent,” Claussen replied.

“Yes, it might,” the Sergent agreed, “but we still have to go: We’ll certainly all be killed if we stay here.”

Claussen looked distraught, but as he looked Demoreau in the eyes his nerve was hardened. Everything had to be done “par règlement” in the Foreign Legion. He nodded: “Yes, give the order, Sergent. Withdraw to the ridge; smartly, now.”

© 2025 by Edward Parr and Edwardian Press (New Orleans, Louisiana)

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Author Guest Post

A Journey Fraught with Peril

My novel Tamanrasset: Crossroads of the Nomad was inspired by the amazing body of action-adventure stories written about the French Foreign Legion which are set in the tumultuous early 20th century of northern Africa. As much as I enjoy these stories when taken in isolation in the spirit they were written at the time, its difficult to ignore subsequent events. I knew that if I were to write a new adventure of that era, I would absolutely need to show both sides of the story: Who were the Legionnaires? Who were the people fighting the French Foreign Legion, and what were their objectives? What were they really like?

As I continued doing research, it seemed to me that not only were a lot of the potential characters in the story Muslim, but that in some fundamental way Islam is a part of that place. There can be no doubt that writing about Islam and writing Muslim characters is fraught with peril. Just ask author Salman Rushdie: his novel, The Satanic Verses, contains a plotline where the Prophet is alleged to have transcribed verses dictated by Satan. This resulted in Iran’s Supreme Leader issuing a fatwa calling for Rushdie’s assassination, followed by years of threats, hiding, and even a violent attack on the author in 2022. But I will say that there is nothing like that in my novel. For the record, I specifically wanted readers to see the Muslim characters as real, sympathetic people, people practicing a rigorous but perhaps even understandable religion, a religion where the meaning of Qur’anic verses have been argued over for centuries in the same way as verses of the Bible, Old and New Testaments, are argued over by Jewish and Christian scholars. The people of northern Africa are a varied and diverse people who for the most part live in communities of kind, like-minded individuals, men and women. In the end, I even elected to hire a sensitivity reader, a Muslim woman educator in Morocco, to give me her thoughts. I incorporated all of her invaluable suggestions.

I also wanted to make clear that the anger experienced by the native people of northern Africa, regardless of religion, was in some cases justified, and that any violence that ensued came not from religion per se but from the treatment of the native people whose countries were actually being violently conquered by France. Once France began to march soldiers directly into Morocco, it’s hardly surprising that locals would push back. On the other hand, I had no interest in vilifying the French Foreign Legionnaires who served in northern Africa. The vast majority of those soldiers enlisted in the Foreign Legion for personal reasons – some joined to avoid the law, to become a soldier the only place they could, or to find adventure, among many other reasons. Most Legionnaires were not French, and the aims of the French government were mostly irrelevant to them. The Legion asks its recruits to dedicate themselves to their fellow Legionnaires and to serve with honor even in the most desperate and the most boring deployments, and that’s the ethos and brotherhood I wanted to depict.

In the end, I hope the story is one that can be taken at face value and without assuming any underlying ideological objective on my part. The story is, ultimately, about the vast emptiness of the Sahara, and those who were there before the world changed and the vast unknown places disappeared forever. Needless to say, the array of people there at the time was remarkable.

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About Author Edward Parr:

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Edward (“Ted”) Parr studied playwriting at New York University in the 1980’s, worked with artists Robert Wilson, Anne Bogart, and the Bread and Puppet Theater, and staged his own plays Off-Off-Broadway, including Trask, Mythographia, Jason and Medea, Rising and an original translation of Oedipus Rex before pursuing a lengthy career in the law and public service. He published his Kingdoms Fall trilogy of World War One espionage adventure novels which were collectively awarded Best First Novel and Best Historical Fiction Novel by Literary Classics in 2016. He has always had a strong interest in expanding narrative forms, and in his novel writing, he explores older genres of fiction (like the pulp fiction French Foreign Legion adventures or early espionage fiction) as inspiration to examine historical periods of transformation. His main writing inspirations are Charles Dickens, George Eliot, Bernard Cornwell, Georges Surdez, and Patrick O’Brien.

 

Socials: Website / LinkedIn / Goodreads / Amazon / Reddit / Instagram / Facebook

Purchase Links: Amazon / B&N

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Hustled By Roya Carmen ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: November 23, 2025 in Contemporary Romance, Excerpt, giveaways
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Hustled

By Roya Carmen

 

Publication date: November 20th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Sports

Fun and Games.
An indecent proposal.
And a whole lot of heartbreak.

Pro billiards player Caine Hall is hot as hell. When he walks into the pool hall I co-own with my husband Reeves, I nearly fall all over myself. Over a few playful games, we get to know each other. He’s smooth and sly, and Reeves instantly hates his guts. He’d kick him out if Mr. Hall didn’t just happen to be our landlord.

He says he wants to help us, and we’re all ears. But when he makes us an outrageous proposal, we can’t believe the gall of the man. Caine wants to spend time with me. It’s innocent enough, albeit very weird. We’re desperate because we’re behind on our rent, so eventually, after much pondering, we reluctantly accept.

Caine treats me like a princess and shows me a whole new world. He takes things slow, just like he does at the pool table. Yet… he scares me — he’s intense and obsessive. And as he abuses his power, his demands and proposals intensify.

Reeves and I are falling apart. We keep telling ourselves we’ll say no next time, but Caine has got us both under his spell, efficiently manipulating us both in very different ways.

I’m anxious about my marriage and my unpredictable, hot-tempered husband. Yet I can’t stop thinking about Caine. He’s in my head. He’s under my skin. Reeves and I have agreed that this is simply a financial arrangement, something we’re doing for our livelihood.

So why have I let Caine hustle his way into my heart?

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Hustled is a STANDALONE story. It will be part of a series of 3 standalone books – related but separate stories.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

“I officially rescind any future proposals. There will be no money. You’re absolutely right. You’re not a whore, and I’ve been completely out of line. You may go now.”

My jaw drops to the floor. Who does this guy think he is? “I may go now?”

“Yes, please go. ” He pulls away, and I ache for him. The sudden absence of his warmth leaves me hollow inside, like someone has scooped out my insides with a cold spoon.

My body betrays me completely—my skin prickles with goosebumps, my breath catches in my throat, and there’s this terrible, painful emptiness that only he can fill. I lean forward slightly, instinctively chasing his touch before I catch myself.

The space between us feels charged with electricity, crackling with unspoken need. A hint of his cologne—that tangy, distinct scent—still lingers in my nostrils, teasing me, reminding me of how close he was just seconds ago. My fingers twitch at my sides, wanting to reach out, to pull him back against me.

I hate the power he has over me. I hate how my body responds to his without my permission, like it belongs to him instead of me. But I can’t deny the physical ache that spreads through me, radiating from my core outward, making me feel both weak and desperately alive at the same time.

I shove him hard.

He recovers quickly. “Do I need to call security? ”

I watch him as he walks away from me. I’ve really done it this time. What must the man think of me? He reaches into his desk. For a chequebook? For a security button?

I huff. I hate him so much, I can’t stand it. “And another thing, Mister. You’re not as perfect as you think. One of your ears sticks out more than the other… it makes you look goofy.”

His gaze reaches mine, and that maddening smile curves his lips again. “Is that so? I never realized. Thank you so much for bringing that to my attention, Jenna.”

Just as he’s about to take a seat at his desk, he changes his mind and stands. “Let me show you out,” he says cooly, and every syllable grates me — how dare he be so calm and collected, when I just want to rip his head off.

But when we get to the door, he presses me against it, his body claiming mine—and I lose complete control.

I’m his. All his.

His hands find the hem of my skirt, rough and demanding as he hikes it up. My back presses against the cold door, a stark contrast to the heat of his body pinning me there. I gasp as his fingers trail up my thighs, leaving fire in their wake.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, his breath hot against my neck. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

But I can’t. The words won’t come. All I can manage is a desperate whimper as his hands climb higher, stroking the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. My head falls back against the door with a soft thud.

“Caine,” I breathe, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears.

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About Author Roya Carmen:

Mom, writer, bookworm, comic artist, and hopeless romantic.

Author of The Ground Rules trilogy, the One Week series, the Riverstones series, the Orchard Heights series, and the You collection.

ALL my books are standalone reads with the exception of The Ground Rules Book 2 and 3. Although the books are standalone reads, when reading a complete series, it is best to do so in chronological order to avoid spoilers. And if you’re a comics fan, check out my comic book: A Romantic Life. 🙂

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

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Hustled Blitz

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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Goon By Glenn Erick Miller ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: November 22, 2025 in Excerpt, fiction, giveaways, Trailer, YA
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After causing a devastating accident, foster kid Goon is
sentenced to a mysterious detention center where he battles crushing guilt, a
ruthless bully, and a Cat-3 hurricane as he tries to prove that he deserves a
second chance – but he must prove it to himself first.

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Goon

by Glenn Erick Miller

Genre: YA Fiction

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When super-sized foster kid Goon causes a devastating
accident, he’s sentenced to an experimental detention center in rural Florida.
There, despite his efforts to go unnoticed, his size and sensitivity make Goon
a perfect mark for the resident bully.

Assigned to work at the stables, he connects with the
rescued horses and his co-worker Trudy, who is entangled in the center’s
mysterious past. After Goon suffers a brutal attack, he must confront his
tormentor, a raging hurricane, and his own crushing guilt.

Goon dreams of being reunited with his younger brother and
tries to prove to anyone who will listen that he deserves a second chance.

But first, he must prove it to himself.

Praise for Goon:

 “Goon will break
your heart into a million pieces and then put it back together again.” – Mary
Sullivan Walsh, author of High and Dear Blue Sky

 

“Stunning and poignant, Goon captivates with empathy and
love the heart of a character that could easily be misunderstood. Glenn Erick
Miller writes poetically and beautifully, and many teen readers will relate.” –
Linda Oatman High, author of One Amazing Elephant

 

“A powerfully written tale of redemption… One of the best
young adult novels I’ve read in a long time.” – Tim Cummings, Author of The
Lightning People Play and Alice the Cat

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Amazon
* B&N
* BooksAMillion
* Bookshop.org
* Books&Books
* Goodreads

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Glenn Erick Miller’s novel, “Camper Girl” (Fitzroy Books,
2020) is the winner of multiple awards including First Place in the Eric Hoffer
Book Awards and Bronze Medals in the Florida Book Awards and Moonbeam
Children’s Book Awards. It is now available as an audiobook. He is also the
author of a picture book, “Red’s First Snow” (Corn Crib Publishing, 2020), and
his writing has earned a First-Place Rising Kite award from Florida SCBWI and a
Pushcart Prize nomination.

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon
* Goodreads

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a $10 giveaway!

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Enter the Goon Giveaway Here!

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Verb Tenses By MG da Mota ~ Peek Inside And Giveaway

Posted: November 21, 2025 in Excerpt, giveaways, thriller
Tags: ,
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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Verb Tenses organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author MG da Mota will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B&N Gift Card. to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter! And you can click on the tour banner to see other stops on the tour.

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Verb Tenses

By MG da Mota

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Genre: Psychological Thriller

Synopsis

Thirty-four-year-old Raquel Whiteman has it all: beauty, a high-powered career, a very rich fiancée, a loving brother and a stepfather she adores. Life is good. Until her mother commits suicide. Clearing the paraphernalia of her mother’s life she finds old photographs and journals which plunge her into a search for the truth about her real father and early childhood, forsaking everything including her engagement to travel a path she is powerless to resist. Like a giant wave the past travels fast and comes crashing down on her, flooding her mind with incomprehensible fragmented memories and continuous questions – What? Why? Why?

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The little girl opened her eyes wide, trying to pierce the darkness. She lifted her head off the pillow, listening intently. All she could hear was the wind blowing wildly, the thunder, and the ocean, raging, beating against the sand and the surrounding cliffs. The house shook with the fury of the storm, as if the sea were angry at its presence and wanted to wash it away. Scared, the little girl pulled the covers over her head and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping for sleep. Images of fairy tales floated into her mind. She remembered the story her mother’s best friend had read earlier. It was the story of a little girl, like herself, who went on a summer picnic with her teddy-bear friends. She smiled. A feeling of warmth spread in her chest, her body relaxed, her mind began to drift; and then, she heard it.

A scream. A horrible scream, louder than the storm, from somewhere in the house. Jerking upright, heart thumping, her breath accelerated, became noisy, difficult. She stared into the darkness, listening. There was no mistake. The screams continued then stopped, abruptly. There was a short silence, then voices. Angry voices. Then the sound of glass splintering on the floor. She whispered, afraid, ‘Mummy … mummy, I’m scared.’

Lightning slashed the darkness, briefly brightening the room through the gaps in the shutters. Thunder was deafening. Trembling the little girl rolled out of bed and walked to the door. Opening it slowly she peered into the hall. Light spilled out from the open door of her mother’s bedroom. Relief flooded through her. The storm had woken Mummy too. Running in she cried, ‘Mummy, I’m scared of—’.

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About Author MG da Mota:

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MG da Mota is Margarida Mota-Bull’s pen name for fiction. She is a Portuguese-British novelist with a love for classical music, ballet and opera. Under her real name she also writes reviews of live concerts, CDs, DVDs and books for two classical music magazines on the web: MusicWeb International and Seen and Heard International. She is a member of the UK Society of Authors, speaks four languages and lives in Sussex with her husband. Her website, called flowingprose.com, contains photos and information.

 

Website / Facebook / Instagram / LinkedIn

 

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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