Archive for the ‘Excerpt’ Category

 

Change of Heart

by Dr. Cristina LePort

 

(A Miner & Mulville Novel)
Publication date: February 4th 2025
Genres: Adult, Thriller

In the bustling heart of New York City, a young medical student’s life is tragically cut short, though her heart continues to beat, holding the promise of life for another. Detective Kirk Miner is called to the scene and quickly uncovers a chilling conspiracy involving organ donations and high-stakes crime. As the investigation unfolds, Miner realizes the case is far more complex and dangerous than it initially seemed.
Enter FBI Agent Jack Mulville, who steps in to supervise Special Agent Charlotte Bloom as they join forces with Miner. Together, they unravel a web of corruption, revealing that Amy Winter’s death is connected to a ruthless organ trafficking ring. Amy Winter, a promising pre-med student, is found dead under mysterious circumstances. Her death triggers an investigation that pulls Miner, Mulville, and Bloom into a labyrinth of deceit and desperation. As they dig deeper, they discover that Amy’s heart is not just a donor’s gift but a coveted prize in a deadly game controlled by criminals willing to kill to keep their secrets hidden.
The quest for justice takes Miner, Mulville, and Bloom through the shadowy underbelly of organ trafficking, revealing the lengths to which people will go to secure life-saving transplants. Amidst the danger, they face moral dilemmas and personal risks, pushing them to their limits as they strive to protect innocent lives and dismantle a powerful criminal network.
“Change of Heart” is a gripping medical thriller that intertwines the intricacies of modern medicine with the relentless pursuit of justice. Cristina LePort, M.D., masterfully combines her medical expertise with edge-of-your-seat storytelling, delivering a novel that will keep you turning pages long into the night. Dr. LePort is an accomplished physician with a passion for weaving medical knowledge into thrilling narratives. Her extensive background in medicine lends authenticity and depth to her stories, making the Miner & Mulville series a unique blend of fact and fiction. (CristinaLePort.com)

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Enjoy this peek inside:

He examined the blood-smeared paper. Only one typed sentence: I donate my organs for transplant. Kirk stared at the illegible signature. Something begged for attention, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was…

“Any weapons or bullets?”

“This was on the driver’s seat between the victim and the door.” John produced an evidence bag from his backpack. “A Ruger. A woman’s gun. Small, concealable, and accurate.”

Kirk reached for the bag and wrapped his hand around the plastic covering the grip’s checkered frame. In his mind, the weapon’s light weight and John’s words triggered an image of a beautiful young woman, Amy Winter, with no future.

“The bullet,” John went on, “ended up embedded next to the ceiling, on the car’s front passenger side. No other bullets found in the gun.”

“Why next to the ceiling?” Kirk lifted his eyes from the gun.

“It must have hit her cellphone.” John handed Kirk a plastic-wrapped iPhone with a dazzling pink case. “She must’ve been holding the phone to her ear when the bullet exited. We found the phone on the car floor between the two back seats. Screen’s shattered, phone’s dead.”

Kirk examined the phone. The black screen bore a bloody diagonal fracture from top to bottom. That would have been the direction of the exiting bullet grazing a phone glued to the woman’s right ear. Who in hell would she be chatting with while killing herself?

“Who discovered the victim?” Kirk said.

“A man called the hospital ER and 9-1-1 at about the same time.” John extracted a smartphone from his sport jacket and scrolled through his notes. “The call to the ER was registered at 4:41a.m. I’m not sure how precise that is. The 9-1-1 call came in at 4:42.”

Kirk placed his index finger on the phone’s volume button. Nothing happened. Then his thumb pressed the reset button several times. After the third try, the screen lit up. A key piece of a puzzle fell into place, making Kirk feel almost giddy with excitement.

“I’m afraid we’re not dealing with an attempted suicide,” Kirk said, turning the face of the phone toward John, “but an attempted murder.”

“I agree.” John’s brows went up. “But how can you be so sure without any forensics?”

“Several things,” Kirk said. “The note was added later, after the shot. Smears of blood, instead of sprays. Poor attempt by the shooter to make us believe the note was on the seat before the bullet hit.”

“Yeah,” John said, “that’s been bothering me also. You’ve come a long way from your training over ribs and beer.”

Kirk smiled at the memory of their favorite pub. It seemed a long time ago when Kirk decided to leave the police force and John helped him get started as a private investigator. John was more than a mentor. He always cared about Kirk, but cared even more after Kirk’s near-fatal car accident years ago. John had become as protective as an older brother.

The image of the dark pub dissipated and Kirk refocused on the victim’s note.

“I’m no calligrapher,” he said, “but, from the slanting of the signature, I think the victim is right-handed. A right-handed person would shoot her right side.”

“If it’s actually her signature,” John said.

“The shooter could have forced her to sign at gun point,” Kirk said. “Either way, it would point to attempted murder.”

“What else?”

“We’ve got the exact time of the shooting,” Kirk said, waving the plastic-clad phone. “Here in this frozen, undead iPhone.”

John grabbed the evidence bag. He stared at the fractured, frozen screen.

His lips stretched into a grin.

“The bullet froze the time at 4:43,” Kirk said. “One minute after the 9-1-1 call. The man called before the shooting occurred. It’s unlikely someone would notice the shooter, figure out what he was going to do, call the police, and leave without talking to them.”

“The witness could have left because he was afraid the shooter would come after him,” John said.

“Or perhaps,” Kirk said, “the caller knew the shooting would occur because he himself was the shooter. And he wanted the victim to be found as soon as possible.”

John referred again to his notes. “The caller said that someone had been shot. Not someone is going to shoot, or is shooting, somebody. The woman had gun powder residue on her left hand, but the shooter could’ve placed the gun in her hand before throwing it in the car. We’ve got a few prints on the handle. I bet they’re all from her. But I still think you’re right.”

Kirk nodded. “The shooter made sure she would be rescued in time for her organs to be saved for donation and subsequent transplant.”

Kirk turned toward the hospital ER entrance. A vivid memory materialized. A plastic bracelet around his wrist, from six years ago, in a different hospital. The bracelet classifying him as an organ donor. After his prolonged coma, doctors had given up on Kirk. Luckily for him, he had woken up and retained his organs.

The woman who had crossed the ER threshold earlier that morning wouldn’t be so lucky. Someone wanted her organs badly enough to put a bullet in her brain.

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About Author Dr. Cristina LePort:

Dr. Cristina LePort was born in Bologna, Italy. She attended medical school at the University of Bologna and then completed her medical training at Long Island College Hospital in Brooklyn and at the University of California, Los Angeles. She is board certified in Internal Medicine and Cardiovascular Diseases and has been practicing medicine for more than thirty years. Cristina is also the Chief Medical Officer and co-founder of Genescient, a biotech company devoted to genetic research on aging and the amelioration of chronic diseases. Medicine and fiction are her twin passions, and she is absolutely thrilled to be able to share her medical thrillers with the world.

Cristina LePort currently resides in Orange County, California, with her husband Peter LePort, a general surgeon. They have three children and three grandchildren.

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Book Details:

  A HUSH AT MIDNIGHT by Marlene M. Bell
Category: Adult Fiction (18 +), 368 pages 
Genre: Mystery
Publisher:  Ewephoric Publishing
Release date:   October 2024
Content Rating:  G. No profanity or intimate situations

 

Book Description:

Celebrity chef Laura Harris dwells on the horror of finding her mentor’s body in the groundskeeper’s disheveled bed—pillow and bedding half covering her open eyes—purple bruising around her mouth. A grisly snapshot in time revealing the Texas woman’s last moments during her attack. The elderly matriarch from the small town of Stenburg has left the physical world, and Laura is shattered.

She is catapulted headlong into the pursuit of a casual executioner, one bold enough to come and go from the crime scene with ease, dropping bizarre crumb trails designed to mock the deceased. But Laura herself doesn’t go unnoticed. As she digs deeper, she is followed and bombarded by warnings to leave the state.

When the victim’s attorney informs Laura that she’s to inherit the entire Stenburg fortune, the last act of kindness has made Laura the main person of interest in the investigation.

​Message by message, Laura is methodically taunted by someone so deranged and driven they’ll do whatever it takes to dislodge Laura from Texas – permanently.

 
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MY REVIEW

I do like my mysteries and the author had me coming and going, at a loss as to the who or why in this one.

I like a strong female protagonist and Laura fits the bill. She has a protective instinct along with some stubbornness. When she visits her mentor and friend, elderly Hattie, she notices something’s off. She seems so frail. She knows something is very wrong when she discovers Hattie dead. What killed her? Why was she in the grounds keeper’s house? These are some of the questions she asks herself and she smells a rat.

I mentioned the author was adept at keeping me guessing. There were plenty of false trails and suspects. I’d love to say I had it all figured out. Not the case and I enjoyed how it all wrapped up.

4 STARS

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An Interview With Main Character Laura Harris

A HUSH AT MIDNIGHT

  1. Laura, you’ve spent your adult life as a pastry chef and suddenly you’re unraveling mysteries. Looking back, do you see any hints that your life would evolve like this? Did you love reading mysteries growing up? Were you especially observant or – dare I say it – nosy? Do you have any special training – maybe martial arts or military training?

Solving murders or unraveling a heinous crime never entered my thoughts on any level. Fate can drop things in our path, both good and bad. I’m a chef with a dream to attain the coveted Mechlin Star for my own restaurant one day. Being part of my family’s winery, tasting room, and restaurant was the avenue to accomplish this until the feud with my sister, DeeDee made it feel more like a wild fantasy. 

The closest I get to reading in earnest would have to be non-fiction cookbooks. My formal training is in French pastry but I love cooking in general. As a matter of fact, I’m in the process of publishing my first cookbook in a few months. I do love a good mystery, though. Except when it involves someone close to home and as special to me as Hattie Stenburg was. I can’t move forward in my career plans until I find the monster who killed my friend.   

  1. You moved back to Texas to help your family out but what do you miss most about California?

California is a beautiful state with everything for everyone; the Pacific Ocean’s pristine beaches, majestic blue foothills and craggy mountains, tall redwood forests and big city life, as well as quaint valley towns with a rich heritage. The overall weather in California can’t be beaten, in my opinion. It’s mild temperatures hardly vary from winter to the summer months unless you’re in snow country. 

My favorite place in the world is found at the 6,225-foot elevation in the high Sierra Mountains. Meeks Bay Resort near Tahoma, CA on Lake Tahoe. The cabins sit just off of the main highway that encircles the lake on the west side. I spent many family vacations there with aunts, uncles, and cousins, bunking in rustic cabins around the July 4th holiday. The aroma of native trees such as aspens and live oaks and numerous varieties of pines populate the landscape and surround that cold, clear lake. The freshest air imaginable enters the senses at high elevations. The most peaceful place on the planet! I learned to waterski in Tahoe’s freezing water. A sixty-degree mountain lake made from snow melt requires a wetsuit to swim the middle even in July. Novice skiers learn to pop out of the water quickly in an environment like that. I sure did! 

  1. What about Texas? What’s the one thing about home that you can never get enough of?

We actually see the changing seasons in East Texas. Fall color is unbelievable in the Woodlands. A plus is living in a wilderness with nature so close to our houses where we’re home to many creatures not seen in California such as the little excavators we call, nine-banded armadillos. They’re truly prehistoric-looking with their claws on each foot and armor covering them from their pointed snouts to the tip of their tails. Their armored plates have the look of metal, too. Armadillos have terrible eyesight, so if you’re lucky enough to come across one, you can photograph them until they smell your approach. I’ve learned to stay downwind for best results. White-tailed deer enter our properties by the hundreds and a host of skunks and foxes, including the nighttime prowlers; coyotes and the occasional mountain lion share the scenic grounds. In short, the wildlife is breathtaking and plentiful. It’s a plus when they’re near enough to get great photos. 

  1. You worked at your family’s restaurant, a friend’s bakery as well as many other places during your training as a chef. Do you have a favorite dish/sweet treat you like to make?

My personal favorite are French profiteroles like those I brought to Hattie before she, uh…was taken from us. Little puffs of heaven I like to call them. Luscious cream-filled puff pastries drizzled with the finest Belgian chocolate. When I want to liven things up, I sometimes fill them with the most delectable vanilla custard and add whisps of raspberries on top before serving. Of course, whiskey replaced the vanilla flavoring for Hattie. How I’ll miss making her special desserts and the decades of letters we wrote to each other.

Texans are partial to sheet cakes, I found out. Place a sheet cake on one end of the table and offer a tempting dish of handcrafted desserts at the other end to Texas guests—and when the party is over, the fancy plate will hardly be touched. The sheet cake will be gone with only crumbs remaining. It’s taken me a while to get used to the simple desserts locals prefer, like fried pies, banana pudding, and peach cobbler. Chocolate sheet cakes are the winner I always keep in the freezer. My bakery partner, Duska Novak can plow through an entire 13×9 cake she’s made herself, and it’s gone in two days!  

  1. Laura, I’m sure you know I love to read! So, tell us what do you like to read? Please tell me it isn’t just cookbooks (although they can be fun). 

Since you’ve taken cookbooks off the list, a close second are novels by new authors or independent writers. Writing books is arduous (as I’ve learned,) and anyone who has the time, money, and stomach to publish books on their own without a publisher’s backing deserves a chance at new readers. I’ve recently picked up an author whose written several books in an international series that spans Europe as well as countries down under. You might have heard of her; Marlene M. Bell. A Texas sheep breeder turned novelist. She has a new book out called, A Hush at Midnight. It’s not from her Annalisse series, but I’m curious to see how she describes Texas in this latest novel. I hear she has a main character with the same name as mine who is also a chef. Isn’t that interesting? I can’t wait to read her slant on Texas!

Thank you for the opportunity to speak to your readers!

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Meet Author Marlene M. Bell:

Mystery at a killing pace

Marlene M. Bell has never met a sheep she didn’t like. As a personal touch, her fans often find these wooly creatures visiting her international romantic suspense, thriller, and cozy mystery books as characters or subject matter.

Marlene’s multi-award-winning Annalisse series boasts numerous Best Mystery honors for all installments including the newest IP Best Regional Australia/New Zealand, and Global Gold Award for the fourth cozy mystery from down under.

connect with the author:  website ~facebook instagram ~ goodreads


 
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Eternal Ashes

by Janelle Marie

 

(Ash & Rage, #1)
Publication date: January 21st 2025
Genres: Adult, Thriller

One night. One moment. One mistake.
Now life will never be the same.

In her hometown of Auburn Village, Sofie Collins has built a good life for herself and her teenage daughter, April.

Sofie’s business is growing, and they are both happily in love, with April about to graduate from high school in only a few weeks.

Life – although far from perfect – is good. But one moment is all it takes.

Just one moment and now Sofie’s world will never be the same again.

Instead of building a brighter future with each passing day, Sofie suddenly finds the happiness she found slipping further and further through her fingers.

And it seems as though all the blame and guilt lies with her…

Or does it?

This mesmerizing drama is the compelling first chapter of a story of heartbreak, betrayal and cold revenge. When her world breaks, will Sofie find the strength to rebuild the pieces? Or is she about to send it crashing down?

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Sofie stared out the window of Chief Edison’s unmarked police car, a cold sense of dread spreading through her chest as she awaited her daughter’s fate. The local hospital wasn’t far, but the ride felt like it was hours. They had left immediately after throwing on some clothes. Sofie wasn’t sure what she had grabbed, or if she should bring anything for April. What had happened? What could’ve possibly happened? Why hadn’t she come home?

The night was still and silent. Everything was so quiet and peaceful, in such stark contrast to the turmoil raging through Sofie’s whole body.

Please, let my baby girl be okay. The thought repeated itself in her head, right along with the last image she had of April walking hand-in-hand out of the pub with Drew. April’s last words to Sofie had been “I love you.” But Sofie couldn’t remember if she’d said those all-important words back to her.

Sofie’s breath clutched in her chest, her gasp disturbing the silence inside the car. Chief Edison glanced back at her through the rearview mirror, concern in his eyes despite his blank expression. Beside her, Parker took Sofie’s hand, interlocking their fingers.

Chief Edison hadn’t given them many details beyond the fact April and Drew had been in an accident. He’d shared no insight into their condition. He didn’t need to though. Sofie could read between the lines. If the kids were okay, they would have been driven home.

April would have called.

If the kids were okay, Chief Edison would have said so instead of staying tight-lipped. His silence was a red flag. A bad omen.

Please, let my baby girl be okay…

Sofie’s vision blurred and she blinked back tears, refusing to let any fall yet. She was convinced crying prematurely would only bring bad luck. Sofie was fearing the worst, but she needed to hold on to some kind of hope. At least now, before she knew for certain how bad it was.

Maybe the kids were banged up and in shock. Maybe there were some broken bones. Maybe some concussions. Scrapes and scratches. Bruises. A bunch of stuff would heal quickly…

And maybe one day, a few weeks or months from now, they would remember this incident as a scary close-call they’d overcome. A minor setback.

Someday in the future, April and Drew would be married and in their forties, telling their kids about the bad crash they had weeks before graduating high school. Their yearbook would have pictures of all the signatures they’d gotten on their matching casts.

There was no need to panic.

No need to panic. Sofie let these words replace the chant in her head, wanting so badly to believe them. Yet, no matter how hard she tried to cling to some optimism, the prolonged drive provided ample time for dread to take hold again.

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About Author Janelle Marie:

Janelle Marie is a distinguished voice in the realm of thriller-suspense fiction. Residing amidst the towering evergreens and cascading mountains of the Pacific Northwest, she infuses her stories with the essence of her surroundings, creating a unique and immersive experience for her readers.

With a talent for weaving tales, Janelle embarked on her writing journey, driven by a love for a great book. She discovered her passion for crafting stories that send shivers down the spine, skillfully spinning narratives that are tapestries of suspense, where unexpected twists and turns keep readers guessing until the final, gripping conclusion.

Janelle Marie invites readers to join her on a journey into the heart of suspense, where the landscapes are as unpredictable as the twists in her tales. Through her evocative prose, she aims to transport readers into a world where danger lurks in the shadows and the only way out is to keep turning the pages.

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What would you do to free the love of your life from
prison?

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Not For the Faint of Heart

Madcap Adventures Book 1

by Rene Vecka

Genre: Epic Fantasy Mystery Romance Adventure

What would you do to free the love of your life from prison?

Magic and mayhem meet mystery and humor in a four-way rumble. Romance gets a
few licks in as well. Set in a post-Ragnarok world with dual protagonists. If
you loved the Dresden Files, you’ll love Madcap Adventures.

As Rory proposes to Ingefær, the Shrine they’re visiting is set ablaze. Ingefær
is jailed and threatened with hanging. Rory investigates, but is hounded at
every step by soldiers. While Ingefær searches for ways to defeat the jail’s
magic wards, the Shrine’s healer vanishes in a puff of smoke.

Will the couple get the chance to solve the Shrine fire mystery before the law
postpones their nuptials forever?

Kirkus Reviews: …In Vecka’s fantasy novel, lovers are torn apart
by a false accusation and must prove one’s innocence before a rigged
trial…Vecka creates compelling difficulties and character challenges that
help drive the fast-paced plot and add to the already exciting mystery
narrative…A fun and entertaining fantasy that will keep readers guessing.

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The alvae sergeant guided me to one of two green cushioned chairs, hands still tied. I sat.

Smergasil placed a cheek on the corner of his desk while the sergeant came around to sit behind it. Parchment was brought forth, and the sergeant found a quill.

The green-skinned lieutenant spoke in Realm’s Tongue. “What is your name?”

“Ingefær vod Renku.”

“Place of residence?”

That proved difficult. I hadn’t lived in one place for almost a year. Rory and I, once we were married, planned to call Slangeh Buktah home—well, his parents’ farm some three days’ ride north of the human city.

“Place of residence? Why is this difficult for you?”

“Rory and I intend to live near Slangeh Buktah. But right now, we are without a home. My last fixed residences were Rohd Mina and Hjulstadt. I guarded a supply wagon that traveled between those two cities.”

“How long ago?”

“A year.”

Smergasil narrowed his eyes. “That is quite a long time to be without a home.”

I shrugged. “We traveled. All over the Realm.”

And had we. From Hjulstadt to Asken de Gulles to Himmel Drakken to Soolv Spyda, then north across the Dreki Mountains in the heart of winter to Kral Fal Is, Kobber Unter Smuss, and Kral Bar Aggen. I smiled, “I’ve been to Is Vann.”

Smergasil pshaw’d. “Lying exacerbates your circumstances.”

How much worse could it get? I lifted my chin high. “I don’t lie. You’ll see. Rory will tell you the same thing.”

That took a little green off his face.

Smergasil pointed. “Search her.”

Uh-oh. Two males pawing me. I didn’t like the sound of that. Good thing Rory wasn’t here.

The lieutenant’s lips curled into a thin, cruel smile. “Resisting an officer in the line of duty is punishable by up to ten years in the swamps. If the officer is wounded in the process, the death penalty may be invoked.”

My breathing quickened. Without my hands, I couldn’t cast a spell.

The sergeant worked quickly, yet efficiently. The knife in my boot was the first item. Then he unbuttoned my green tunic and pulled free my mage belt, setting it on the lieutenant’s desk. I must say, he had patted me down with care and consideration.

Smergasil took the mage belt and opened the pouches. When he came to the sawdust—an ingredient in summoning a fireball—he looked up at me and smiled.

Yeah. I was in trouble.

From underneath my green frock, the sergeant pulled out a coin sack inside a hidden pocket and two folded up parchments I had placed between my frock and chemise. I didn’t think he had felt the paper. Maybe he’d heard it crinkling.

The sergeant rifled through the coin bag. He whistled and said something in Alvaesh.

I had a combined purse of a thousand silver coins, nine hundred of which came in the form of forty-five gold coins, which were rare. Somehow, my wealth made my situation worse.

The lieutenant stared down his nose at me. “That is quite a lot of money for someone who doesn’t have a place to call home.”

“We did very well at Is Vann. And had a bit of luck inside a necromancer’s tomb.” I smiled at his rolled eyes.

He snapped his fingers, and the sergeant handed over the folded-up parchments. Smergasil read the first and his thin lips spread into a wide grin. “A letter of credit for four thousand more silver? Which jarls did you rob?”

“Earned every single coin,” I said, jutting my jaw forward. “Rory’s the best swordsman in the Realm.”

“Hmph.” Smergasil threw the letter of credit toward the sergeant, whose green eyes were as big as marbles. The lieutenant read the second letter, which I knew to be a decree from Foremost Aerica of the Tyrrell Order granting Rory and me the right to pursue criminals wherever the Warriors for Justice had an agreement in place.

Of all the luck. Vanaby wasn’t one of them.

“Rory and I are bounty hunters.”

“Good cover for thieves, don’t you think?” Smergasil threw the parchment at the sergeant and stood. “A forgery. Why did you burn the Shrine?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t.”

“Yet you’re a thaumaturge.”

“Technically, I’m a battle wizard, not a thaumaturge. I can wield both air and fire from the elemental planes by the same name, as well as summon power from the Aether plane, which comes in handy for utilitarian incantations like find or dispel magic.”

He covered a yawn. “No matter. You burned the Shrine. Why?”

“I didn’t.”

The inane conversation devolved from there. I met his unfounded accusations with strident denials. We went round and round for a dozen minutes.

“Lieutenant,” I said. “I can do this all day. The decree before you clearly informs anyone with reading comprehension that Rory and I are on the side of good…the same side as you.”

“Cover.”

Obstinance in the face of facts could only be maintained by a dimwit. I shifted tactics and mimicked his earlier one. I yawned. He peppered questions at me, demanding I confess. I slouched in my chair and pretended to nod off.

I risked a beating for my insolence, but I wasn’t going to argue banalities and innuendo. Not with someone who had already made up their mind.

“Take her to holding,” Smergasil said.

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I’ve been a reader of fantasy and science fiction since I
was ten. Lord of the Rings is still my favorite. I now read Butcher (Dresden)
and Salvatore (Drizzt), as well at Sanderson and others. The Mid Dreki Realm
got its start with a comment with my then fifteen year old son. That kernel
grew into a book, which split into two, and is now a five book series. I
retired at 57 and began the process of becoming a writer. I’ve attended a half
dozen conferences, read numerous books on the art of writing, joined critique
groups, and immersed myself in the craft. I’m a member of Apex, a group founded
by David Farland (Runelord).

I live in the foothills between Colorado Springs and Denver
with my wife. Deer, turkeys, bear, coyotes, and my three children and 2
grandchildren occasionally drop by.

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Deadly When Disturbed by DM Barr Banner

DEADLY WHEN DISTURBED
by DM Barr
January 13 – 31, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

Deadly When Disturbed follows the journey of leading Realtor and philanthropist Dara Banks. When Dara searches for an assistant, finding someone as resourceful as Meryl “Merry” Rafter seems too good to be true. So good in fact, she neglects to run a reference check. Bad move. Before she knows it, Merry, a former “actress” trying to be “helpful,” has insinuated herself into Dara’s business, family, and charity, and may be the only person saving her from prison. Dara becomes suspicious and begins snooping into Merry’s past. Feeling cornered, Merry reciprocates by launching an investigation of her own and realizes—too late—that she may have picked the wrong mark to con. These women’s unsettling discoveries, and their desperate efforts to safeguard their skeleton-filled closets and fragile self-images, lead to an explosive confrontation certain to destroy the lives of everyone in their midst.

Praise for Deadly When Disturbed:

“Two women. Friends? Hardly. They’re both after the same thing. And as the stakes get higher, the mind games get uglier, until—well, I’m not going to give away the killer ending. D. M. Barr’s latest domestic thriller is a total rush. It’s like being back with Betty and Veronica all over again—only this ain’t high school, and these women (like the title says) are DEADLY WHEN DISTURBED.” ~ Marshall Karp, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author of the NYPD RED series

“Who’s the hunter and who’s the hunted in this taut domestic thriller? Don’t even try to guess. Just relax, enjoy, and hang on as DEADLY WHEN DISTURBED takes you on a wild ride.” ~ Brad Parks, international bestselling author of THE BOUNDARIES WE CROSS.

“Tense, well-written, and surprising—Liane Moriarty meets Gillian Flynn by way of John Lutz in D.M. Barr’s latest domestic thriller, DEADLY WHEN DISTURBED. Gaslighting and suburban intrigue abound in this carefully crafted tale, guaranteed to keep you in suspense all the way to the final chapter. Put this one at the top of your to-be-read pile!” ~ Richard Helms, Thriller, Macavity, and Shamus Awards winning author of 22 RUE MONTPARNASSE.

DEADLY WHEN DISTURBED is a superb dark thriller that offers a brilliantly written bizarro take on the classic All About Eve. Shifts in reality and twists of the plot keep the reader on edge until the stunning and unexpected climax. Fasten your seatbelt and hang on. It’s a great ride.” ~ S. Lee Manning, award-winning author of TROJAN HORSE, NERVE ATTACK, BLOODY SOIL, and DEADLY CHOICE.

DEADLY WHEN DISTURBED by D.M. Barr is a clever psychological thriller reminiscent of The Hand That Rocks The Cradle, updated for today’s culture and with a superior narrative.… With a steady and increasingly intense pace, [it] is a hypnotic read of insanity and wretchedness that will stay with you long after the last page.” ~ Gaius Konstantine for Readers’ Favorite

Deadly When Disturbed Trailer:

 

Book Details:

Genre: Domestic Suspense, Domestic Thriller

Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: January 2025 Number of Pages: 310

Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

.

MY REVIEW

Two female characters starring in a thriller. Sounds good to me.  So I dove in.

When Dara’s work load becomes too much for just her to handle, she searches for someone to help. She finds Merry, who quickly becomes indispensable. And then, like a leech, she gets under Dara’s skin, inserting herself into all aspects of her life.

Does this scenario sound familiar to you? It does, doesn’t it? But, the author puts an intriguing twist on this. Dara wants Merry gone. Merry wants to step into Dara’s shoes. So, in order for either of them to get what they want, they’ll have to get to know everything about each other. And, boy, does it get suspenseful when the closet doors are flung open and the skeleton’s that were hiding there are revealed.

Talk about an ending you won’t see coming. A humdinger, indeed. For me. For you. And probably for the two women who lived it in these pages.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:
Prologue
She stood at her dining room table and calmly fingered through the cardboard box, double-checking that the paperwork was in chronological order. Even now, no one could accuse Samantha Ellingsworth of being anything but organized and precise. For nearly forty years, it had been both a gift and a curse. First the letters from Harry, professing his incendiary ardor during their abbreviated law school courtship. The GIA certificate for the diamond, his glittering promise of passion extending through eternity. The deed to their Upper West side condo. A copy of her resignation from Davis & Milliken, where she’d been on the fast track to partner. The birth certificates for her daughter, dated a year later, and the surprise twins, ten years after that. Next, the children’s coveted acceptance letters from Harrison—Manhattan’s most elite private pre-school and elementary—followed by every one of the glowing report cards she’d worked with them so diligently to earn. Campaign flyers she’d created for Harry’s run for state senate. Her passport opened to the page containing the stamp from that fateful trip to Aruba. The letters she’d written, refuting everything he’d accused her of as lies—all unopened and marked “Return to Sender.” The prescription for Prozac, unfilled, as if any pharmaceutical could rescue her from this pit of depression. Finally, the divorce papers she’d received a few weeks ago, still unsigned. A lifetime of aspirations, misunderstandings, and betrayals, all encapsulated in a pile of paper less than an inch thick. She affixed the cover to the box and took a long, wistful look at the “perfect” apartment they’d been so ecstatic about buying, beating out several competing bids thanks to the lingering cachet of the Ellingsworth name and its clout in political circles. Confident that the condo was spotless, with everything in its place, Samantha slowly donned her hooded sheepskin coat, grabbed the box, and headed out. The elevator operator nodded as she entered, but Gloria from the floor above murmured a curt hello and diverted her gaze as they descended from the seventh floor. Samantha had grown used to the frostiness over the past few weeks. Did the other tenants fear it was catching, that they too might be abandoned by their spouse and children, their lives reduced to rubble, if they inched too close? Whatever. She trudged southbound through the early morning wintery mix; package still cradled to her chest like a newborn. Frigid raindrops grazed her eyelashes before cascading downward and stinging her cheeks as she passed the signs in Zabars’ windows, reminding patrons to purchase their Thanksgiving turkeys. The holiday was only days away. The irony did not escape her. Shivering as much from the weather as from what lay ahead, she descended the subway staircase at 72nd Street, pushing against the throngs headed toward the sidewalk. She had someplace to go too and nothing—not crowds nor apprehension—was going to delay her. Today was the day, a chance to have her say. Finally, she’d make him understand. Samantha ran her MetroCard through the turnstile and headed toward the stairway leading to the uptown train. She positioned herself as close as possible to the opening of the tunnel and stood by the edge of the platform, resummoning her fleeting courage as the crowds swelled behind her. Commuters too involved with their phones to notice the determined woman beside them whose breathing had quickened and whose face had grown hot. She hugged the box even tighter to her fidgeting body and waited. And waited. A collective sigh arose from the crowd as the loudspeaker announced that the next train was going out of service and wouldn’t be stopping. She saw the light in the distance and heard the clunk-de-clunk and whirl—a deafening gale descending onto the tracks, drowning out the murmur of the passengers. Her ride to the most important meeting of her life. And it was the number 2 train. How appropriate. Just like her, relegated from number one. Timing was everything, the oncoming gleam only yards away. She tightened her grasp on what was left of her world, recalling the face of the bitch who’d laughed as she’d stolen it all away. Then she took one last breath and jumped onto the tracks. *** Excerpt from Deadly When Disturbed by DM Barr. Copyright 2025 by DM Barr. Reproduced with permission from DM Barr. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Dawn M. Barclay:

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DM Barr

Dawn M. Barclay is an award-winning author who writes psychological and romantic suspense as D.M. Barr and non-fiction under her own name. Her eight other published books include Expired Listings, Murder Worth the Weight, and Saving Grace: A Psychological Thriller. Along with Deadly When Disturbed, in February LBB will also publish the first of her multi-volume series, Vacations Can Be Murder: A True Crime Lover’s Travel Guide. Dawn recently completed her second stint co-editing a Sisters in Crime NY/Tri-state anthology. New York State of Crime, published by Down & Out Books in the fall of 2024, which includes her third published short story, “Orchestral Removals in the Dark.” She is currently editing an anthology of crime fiction for Down & Out Books inspired by the music of Elton John and Bernie Taupin. Dawn offers developmental and copy editing through SuggestedDevelopment.com, and ghostwrites personal histories and corporate profiles through LegacyQuest.net. A member of ITW, she has served as president of Hudson Valley Scribes, vice president of Sisters in Crime-NY (still a board member), and the newsletter author/board member of the NY chapter of Mystery Writers of America.

Catch Up With DM Barr: www.DMBarr.com Goodreads – @DMBarr BookBub – @DMBarr Instagram – @AuthorDMBarr Threads – @AuthorDMBarr YouTube – @BarrSinister-m7u Bluesky – @AuthorDMBarr YouTube – @BarrSinister-m7u Facebook – @AuthorDMBarr TikTok – @AuthorDMBarr

 

 

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Today I am excited to share the newest, standalone, small-town romance novel from the Women of Boone County Series. Forget Me Not by Julieann Dove is a sweet, heartfelt romance about loss and starting over.  Check out the excerpt, enter the giveaway and grab your copy!

Forget Me Not

 

Women of Boone County #3 | Release Date: January 21, 2025

Amazon | Goodreads

Sadie Billingsly cannot remember the last time she ate a vegetable, shaved her legs, or slept in a bed. Since the morning she woke up in the hospital and was told her husband was dead, nothing resembled her life. For the last ten months all she’d been able to do was survive the life she’d been dealt. She quit going to her private practice, started lying to her mom, and knew entirely too much about the top ten streaming movies any given day.

Campbell Stone watched from a far as Sadie, his departed best friend’s wife, withdrew from society. He didn’t want to upset her with mentioning she should return to work, but most of all, he didn’t want to hurt her with the truth about the year leading up to the accident that spared her life and took his best friend’s. He knew her amnesia of the events and time prior to the fateful night was necessary to protect her.

Sometimes your life has to fall apart so it can fall into place. The storm that hit Boone County that night in November did more than knock out half the town’s electricity… with the help of a stranger, it shifted Sadie’s mindset about her situation. But time would tell if she was ready to face the truth about her marriage, Campbell Stone, and her part in the night that changed her life.

 Enjoy this peek inside:

“You want a Cosmo?” Campbell asked Sadie.

“Actually, I’ll have a cranberry juice, straight up.”

The woman looked up from her pad, questioning her with her eyes.

“Okay,” Campbell said, interrupting the ensuing question from the waitress. “I’ll have a Coors.”

She looked back at Sadie before she left the table.

“So you’re not drinking tonight?”

“Giving it up for Lent.” She folded the tiny cocktail napkin the woman left behind.

“You’re not even Catholic.”

“Yeah, well, that might change, too.”

The music was certainly bluesy that night. Campbell noticed a man in the corner. He was swaying his head, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His eyes were closed, feeling the music deep in his soul.

“So, how was your first week? Did it all come back to you?” He rested his elbows on the table. It was all he could do not to reach across and pull a stray hair from the middle of her forehead. But then that would lead to touching her cheek. Then that would lead to bending across the table and kissing her. Something she wouldn’t understand.

“Yeah, pretty much. You see one naked ass, you’ve seen them all.”

He let out a laugh. The woman reappeared with their drinks. Sadie’s was bright red and filled a medium glass. His was a longneck. A frosted mug accompanied it.

“So true.” He poured the cold elixir down his throat. It felt as if it were setting off sparks as it crawled down to his stomach. A great end to a busy day. And now to be sitting across the table with Sadie made it the best.

Sadie began to sway in her chair to the song that was playing. Without giving thought to how she’d react, he stood and pulled her out to the small dance floor. He couldn’t take not being able to touch her any longer. They were going to share it with three other couples. Slow-moving couples. Maybe dirty dancers, if the lights were brighter and he could see better.

She fought at first, shaking her head no. But he insisted, pulling her harder. The song was “These Arms of Mine.” The words couldn’t have been more fitting to how he felt for her. He wrapped his arms around her tight and began to sway. Her body felt so good…so perfect next to his.

She went to say something the same time he moved his head to look at her. She ended up at his cheek. Her lips brushed against it. They stopped for a brief second, a half inch of space between their faces. His eyes focused on her lips. The ones he’d watch getting slathered with lip gloss in the break room that day, longing to be the wand in the tube. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her. It was second nature. He wasn’t sure whether she closed her eyes. It ended quickly.

Like the song. “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” came on next, not allowing for any silence in the dance area. Her eyes didn’t leave his for what seemed a whole chorus of Otis belting out the soulful tune.

She moved her head back to his shoulder, laying her cheek flat against it. His body radiated heat from what just happened…from feeling her breast pressed against his chest. How could he get rid of the extra warmth before she sensed the temperature change?

They remained dancing until the song ended and she pulled away. They went back to the table and sat down without saying a word.

“I’ve got to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

He nodded.

©Forget Me Not, Julieann Dove, NerdyBirdBooks 2025

The Women of Boone County Series

Coming Home | To Have and Let Go | Forget Me Not

“If you haven’t discovered Julieann Dove’s books, start right now with Coming Home, the first book in her latest series. It’s filled with the complex characters and small-town charm I love.”Sherryl Woods, New York Times #1 bestselling author of The Sweet Magnolias and Chesapeake Shores series.

 Author Julieann Dove

Julieann Dove takes great pleasure in writing about love and all the mess that goes along with it. How else does happily ever after become realized, if not for some type of hardship and journey? When she’s not writing, she loves playing with fabric at her sewing machine, baking new recipes, and playing in the dirt, trying to get things to grow. Julieann loves old movies, and never tires of listening to music—it’s where she finds most of her inspiration for her books.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter

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Welcome to my stop in the virtual book tour for Bitroux: High Country organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Jordan Harcourt-Hughes 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.

Bitroux: High Country

by Jordan Harcourt-Hughes

 

 

Genre: Science Fiction

Synopsis

If Merouac ever thought his life’s work would culminate in leading the metal workshops of the Transcontinental Railroad Project, he was sorely mistaken.

Now, his true challenge lies in navigating the other-worldly abilities he’s only beginning to understand—abilities that allow him to tune metal to interdimensional frequencies.

While trying to be a guardian to his niece, Evra, he’s realising she may have more to teach him than he ever expected. At the same time, his decision to help an interdimensional race find refuge underground puts him at the centre of an even deeper mystery.

As reality reshapes itself around him, Merouac faces a growing realisation: the world of Ahm is on the brink of a profound transformation, and everything he thought he knew may soon be shattered.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The two men were slow moving, graceful, each with a high mohawk of golden straw-like hair, and heavily decorated with neck jewels. The neck-ware was gnarled, twisted, fibrous, fragments of plant stems dried and interwoven with beads and fresh flowers, trussed with other leaves and organic material, and embedded with strange jewels that seemed to glow and fade, changing colours across a spectrum of blues to greens and then back to blues.

Tundra inclined his head, made a small gesture and a bow.

‘He greets you,’ Kii translated. ‘Tundra does not speak very much, and so I’ll translate for him.’

‘How do you know what he wants to say, then?’ Merouac asked.

‘I can see it, or sense it, in the atmosphere,’ Kii explained.

Merouac watched in surprise as the Tundra gestured again, imparting information through the aether which Kii seemed to easily recieve and decipher.

Tundra then eased himself into a crouching position and cleared a patch of grass. He shook his head and determined it would not suit, and looked for a sandy patch. He moved over to another, more suitable, patch of ground and beckoned the other two to join him. He went through the same process of clearing the ground, and then used his fingers to trace lines into the sand. He was silent as he did so, but then looked at Kii expectantly, and Kii nodded.

‘Tundra said you did the right thing with the race that was escaping their imploding planet. They are safe, and they will rest in the core of Ahm now. Tundra was just drawing a map for me, to show me where they are.’

Merouac felt a shock run through him. ‘How does Tundra know about the Helara?’ he asked Kii.

‘There are things that can be seen in the energetic environment. He is able to perceive the place where the Helara now rest. It is under the power grid, deep below Suron. There is a cave network, and catacombs with very deep canyons. Below those canyons, this is where you found a place for the Helara to enter the core of the planet. It was the right thing to do,’ Kii said, translating as he watched Tundra’s fingers work in the sand.

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About Author Jordan Harcourt-Hughes:

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Jordan Harcourt-Hughes  is an abstract painter, writer and communications professional. She’s passionate about all aspects of creativity, life-long learning and personal wellbeing.  Over the last fifteen years she’s led, coached and developed creative professionals across the Asia-Pacific region.

Jordan’s books, studio workshops, courses, coaching and resources are an invitation to explore the rich landscape of creative experiences open to all.

High Country is Jordan’s second novel set in the world of Bitroux.

Author Links: Website / Instagram / Facebook

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The Loathe Boat

by Cindy Dorminy

 

Publication date: January 20th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

The Loathe Boat is about to set sail! All aboard!

Chrissy Parks already has one failed marriage under her belt, and despite being on good terms with her ex, she has no desire to put another ring on her left hand anytime soon. Life is good with Deacon, her amazing boyfriend, so there’s no need to rock the boat.

Deacon Youngblood has other plans. He pops the question just days before they plan to set sail on a role-playing-themed cruise. When Chrissy flips out and turns down his proposal, he begins to think that she may not be over her ex.

The situation escalates into a breakup, but neither will relinquish their cruise ticket. Chrissy climbs aboard the Sovereign of the Sea with the goal of clearing her head and enjoying all the cruise has to offer. Deacon follows with the hope of winning her back.

Chrissy has a nagging feeling that Deacon is hiding something from her. And he’s not the only one vying for her attention. Chrissy must search her heart and decide who she wants. Or maybe she should abandon ship.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

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Enjoy this peek inside:

First line: Nothing says love like walking through a parking garage in a bright yellow duck suit. ~ Chrissy

I open the box to reveal the custom-made engagement ring I’ve been hiding in my drawer for a month. Her mouth gapes open, but no words come out – no “OMG, yes” or even “Of course I will” or a squeal of excitement…..

Her breaths come out in rapid pants. “I..I… uh, I…” Her chair falls backward as she runs toward the bathroom.

Relinquishing my ticket to her would be the right thing to do, but there is no way on Earth I’m going to let her share my stateroom with her ex-husband. I’d rather be stuck on the Titanic with her than let her have any sexy times with that twenty-first century Eddie Haskell ~ Deacon

A sword? Wait! A viking helmet too? Most of the people in line around me seem more like they are on their way to a Ren Faire. All that’s missing is a very large turkey leg. ~ Chrissy

Rom-Com readers will have a memorable trip on The Loathe Boat ~ Goodreads

Great for getting in the ‘vacation mood’ without necessarily hearing Jimmy Buffet. ~ Goodreads

For a closed-door romance, they had magnetic chemistry! ~ Goodreads

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About Author Cindy Dorminy:

Cindy Dorminy writes about love when it’s least expected. Quirky dialogue and sassy, southern heroines are a must in her romances. When she’s not in her she-shed working on her next novel, she enjoys walking her dog, gardening, and weightlifting. She shares her house with her musician husband, an awesome daughter, and a miniature dachshund who would eat all the food if he could figure out how to open the refrigerator. She resides in Nashville, TN, where live music can be heard everywhere, even at the grocery store.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

 

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He’d fight mystic
forces to be with her. She sees her future in his love.

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Stone of Hope

Stones of Iona Book 4

by Margaret Izard

Genre: Time Travel, Paranormal Romance

In a twist of
fate, Dominic DeVolt is shown archeologist Moira Joanna White’s beauty through
the Eye of Ra. Trying to save his niece and nephew from evil Fae powers, he’s
sucked into the past and dumped in the middle of her Egyptian archaeology dig.

Moira fears the attractive man who appears at her dig is partnering with her
archnemesis. That is until the bold fighter distracts her with a kiss. His duty
as uncle tugs her heart, but is he only after her precious artifacts?

He’d fight mystic forces to be with her. She sees her future in his love.

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

 

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“Pierre Lenoir accused Moira of stealing his notes and discovering the tombs using his research, which put her discovery in a long legal battle. He demanded the Egyptian courts turn over the discovery to his team, saying that a lone woman with a meager team of village riffraff could not have discovered such riches.” He took a deep breath. “Tossing the situation into further turmoil, Miss White mysteriously disappeared shortly after the filing. The case remains unsolved, but they credited this finding to her alone.”

“Moira Joanna White. She sure is pretty. Too bad she’s dead.”

Dominic turned toward the exit as Evie spoke. “Wanna see her in real life?”

He stopped and turned to Evie. “What?”

Evie looked at Dominic, then at the Eye of Ra. Ewan stepped toward his sister as Dominic shot his hand out to stop him.

Ewan grabbed her shoulder. “Evie, don’t.” Evie raised her hands. His ears buzzed, and the room filled with an electrified energy. He’d felt something like this on another assignment where he flew a unique craft. The “out of this world” one he couldn’t tell anyone about. The overcharged sensation overwhelmed Dominic in the same way. Evie shifted her hands, and the pupil of the Eye of Ra turned a little then rotated. It spun faster and faster, swirling into a gray mass. As the gray of the center faded, a picture appeared as he stared and the image moved.

Dominic stood transfixed. Before him was a movie of Moira White bent over a sarcophagus, cleaning it with a large brush. Her thick auburn hair caught the torchlight as dust particles flickered around her head. So, it was red. She turned as if someone had called her, making Dominic’s breath escape in a whoosh. Before him was a full-color live version of the photo. The stunning beauty from the past, alive before his eyes.

As she gave him a full smile, he moved forward, tilting his head. He returned the grin, completing the connection. The picture rotated off-center, and the air traveled around him. The ringing came back to his ears, louder.

A kid’s gasp came from behind as Ewan screamed, “Evie, what’s wrong? What’s happening?”

Dominic turned. Ewan held Evie’s shoulders as she gasped for air and held her hands out to the eye. The wind picked up and swirled around them as the picture inside the eye’s pupil rotated faster.

Evie yelled over the wind, “I can’t control it, Ewan! It’s got a hold of me! I can’t stop it!” The churning wind dragged Evie toward the eye as Ewan grasped her shoulders, trying to push her away. A gust of wind pressed the twins, and they slid fast toward Dominic. When they slammed into him, his reflexes took over, and he grabbed them. He held both teenagers in his arms, trying to push them away from the eye.

Dominic searched for Doug and Kat and found they’d taken cover behind the chariot. Thank God he’s got only two to worry over.

He yelled over the wind, “Doug, keep Kat safe. Stay there.”

Ewan cried out, “Evie, ye have to stop it! Close yer eyes! Shut it off!”

Tears streamed down Evie’s face. “I can’t. I’m frozen!” This can’t be! The eye dragged them toward it. The energized force pulled as Dominic tried to push away. Whatever this was, Dominic feared it was not good.

Dominic yelled over the wind, “Hold on, kids. I’ve got you!” He gathered them both in his arms as he fought to keep them from the eye. The wind hit them with a forceful blow, and all three flew into the Eye of Ra.

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**Don’t miss the other books in the series!**

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Stone of Love, book 1, Brielle and Colin’s 18th
century Scottish story.

Stone of Fear, Book 2, Marie and John’s
13th century Scottish story.

Stone of Lust, Book 3,
Ainslie and Rannick’s Viking tale.

Thistle in the Mistletoe
featuring a couple in the past from Stone of Love.

Next in the series:

Stone of Doubt, book 5 coming 2025,

Holly and Ivy, a Christmas companion book.

Stone of Faith, book 6.

Stone of Destiny, book 7.

Evergreen
Evermore
, a Christmas companion book.

This series leads
into another connected series, Dragons of Tantallon, a
dragon-shapeshifter series revolving around the magic Iona Stones.

Find them on Amazon

 

 

 

Margaret Izard is
an award-winning author of historical fantasy and paranormal romance novels.
She spent her early years through college to adulthood dedicated to dance,
theater, and performing. Over the years, she developed a love for great
storytelling in different mediums. She does not waste a good story, be it
movement, the spoken, or the written word. She discovered historical romance
novels in middle school, which combined her passion for romance, drama, and
fantasy. She writes exciting plot lines, steamy love scenes and always falls
for a strong male with a soft heart. She lives in Houston, Texas, with her
husband and adult triplets and loves to hear from readers.

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

 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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Stone of Hope Swag Pack (US only)

$30 Amazon giftcard (WW)

-1 winner each!

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,

From rivalries to secret glances across the rink,

dive into a story filled with passion, ice, and a little bit of chaos.

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Lincoln

A Los Angeles Quakes Hockey Series Book 1

by Alisa Jean

Genre: Sports Hockey Romance

L.A. Quakes’ fans
stomped their feet to cheers of “Caveman!” when I made incredible saves in the
crease, leading the team to two Stanley Cup victories. I thought I could go on
forever, but at thirty-six, the clock’s counting down even for Lincoln Cavanaugh.
Social media and fan sites are filled with rumors of me being traded. Or worse.
My future looks as uncertain as a loose puck on the ice.
My fate rests in the hands of Catherine Bishop, daughter of the team’s owner
and a power to be reckoned with. And what fine hands they are, along with
everything else about her. A chance encounter leads to sparks between us, but
is falling in love with this incredible woman worth the risk?
Because with her by my side, I’m once again an unstoppable force between the
pipes, and victories pile up like never before. However, our love is a ticking
time bomb because Catherine has dreams of making history as the first female
and person of color to own an NHL team. Sleeping with a player would make that
all go up in smoke. I fear when the truth comes out, it will be the final
buzzer for us.

 

Lincoln:

 

Hockey Romance
Forbidden Love
Dating the Boss’s Daughter
Sneaking Around
Aging Goalie
Dating Her Secret Crush
He Rescues Her
Future Boss

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Google * Kobo * Smashwords
*
Books2Read * Bookbub * Goodreads

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I take his tiny gloved hand in my large one and start skating to where the Tremblers are standing in lines in front of the coaches. My friends are right behind me when we stop next to the staff, and I give the boy a gentle push. “Go get back in formation.”

Coach Greer holds out a hand, which I shake. “Thanks for doing this, it means the world to the kids.”

“It’s our pleasure.” My teammates nod along in agreement.

Greer introduces us to the tiny players and as I gaze over the group, I’m happy to see a lot of girls. This isn’t always the case at this age, so I’m glad their numbers are growing. Usually, they’d rather be figure skating. We’re about to break into groups for drills when I hear another pair of skates hit the ice. Turning, I’m stunned to see Catherine gliding toward us.

I spin and whisper-shout, “Who the hell invited her?” while glaring at my friends.

“Um,” Ribi raises a hand. “I thought since she was interested, she could tag along.”

My lips thin into a frown. All three of them bust out laughing. Oh shit, this is a setup.

“Hey. Sorry, I’m late. Traffic coming over the hill was murder.” She murmurs to us, then smiles and gives a wave at the kids. “Hi everyone, I think I missed the intros. I’m Catherine Bishop. My father, Robert Bishop, is the owner of the Los Angeles Quakes. I’m not the best hockey player, so I hope you’ll teach me.”

Which is bullshit. I know she played in college. They weren’t champs or anything, but she knows her way around the ice. I smile, knowing she’s fibbing for the kids’ sake.

And she’s adorable. She threaded her ponytail through the back of her Quakes’ baseball cap. Her hair swishes back and forth every time she moves. She must have gotten the memo, because she’s dressed identically to us, from hockey skates, black snow pants, and a Quakes’ sweater, though hers isn’t numbered. It’s a blank. The hockey gloves swallow her hands, but she holds her stick like she knows how to use it.

Since the introductions are finished, the kids break into groups for drills and my teammates spread out to help. The time flies and my cheeks hurt from the constant smiling.

Then Sonny yells over in that commanding captain’s voice, “Caveman, little help in the right circle.” I snap to it, instinctively following his orders because, on the ice, he’s the leader. We all follow and would do anything for him. Then I realize he’s sending me over to Catherine, who is having trouble teaching a little girl how to skate backward. Ribi and Bri are both closer, so his master plan isn’t exactly subtle. If there weren’t kids around, I’d tell him where to shove it, but we’re here for them, so I skate over to help.

“There seems to be a bit of a balance problem over here.”

“I’m a good skater,” Catherine states. “But apparently not the best instructor.”

“No worries,” I crouch in front of the little skater. “What’s your name?”

“Lacey.”

“Nice to meet you, Lacey. Can I show you something?”

She nods her head frantically, and my smile turns into a grin. I stand and hold my stick across my body and lower it to her height. “Grab on with both hands.” She does. Next, I bend my knees a little and lean a tiny bit forward at my waist. “Okay, copy me.” Lacey does, and I start skating forward. She’s pushed along with her grip on my stick. “Good. Keep moving your skates. Excellent. Now take one hand off.” Her balance wobbles, but she recovers. “Great job. Now, without losing your position, I want you to let go and keep skating.”

She looks a little nervous but follows through. She remains upright and skates backward.

“Awesome, Lacey. Look at you go.”

“I’m doing it! I’ve got this.” Her voice filled with pride and smiles.

“Yes, you do. Keep going.” I encourage her and step to the side, watching her skate away.

Catherine skates over. “You’re pretty amazing yourself. It’s like you have this magical touch. I spent almost twenty minutes with Lacey and got nowhere. You skate by and in less than a minute, she can skate backward on her own.”

Before I can reply, I’m slammed from behind, cut off at the knees. I fall forward into Catherine and we both go down. A little boy does a victory circle around us before skating off. I hear my friends laughing, those fuckers. I’ve got to be crushing her, so I move my weight to my arms and look down. “Are you all right? Did you hit your head?” We aren’t wearing helmets. I don’t want her to move if she’s hurt. It’s when I’m staring at her I realize how incredible she feels beneath me, all soft and curvy. I need to banish those thoughts before my cock gets ideas. There’s no way she wouldn’t notice in this position.

“I think I’m good.”

“Okay, let’s take it slow.” I get to my feet and hold out a hand, pulling her up. She’s standing close, so it’s easy to touch the back of her head. “Any pain or tenderness?”

“N-no, I-I’m fine.”

I stare into her eyes. They’re an amazing combination of brown and green. This woman. There’s so much more to her than anyone knows. Screw it. I’m going for it.

“Catherine,” I whisper.

“Y-yes?”

I lean a little closer, our noses almost touching. “Have dinner with me? Sunday.” This close, I can see her eyes dilate with my question. She’s attracted to me. “Come on, say yes.”

“It’s a bad idea,” she whispers back.

“Probably, but let’s do it anyway,” I smirk because I can’t help myself.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” I smile and skate backward, away from her. This is either the best decision ever or the worst mistake of my life.

.

Alisa Jean is the
pseudonym for award-winning authors Marla A. White and C J Bahr. They first
teamed up over thirty years ago over a bottle of Zima (don’t ask) while
polishing their gear for a horse show. They’ve since moved on to better
beverages and writing novels. Separately, Marla prefers to murder characters in
the usual way, while C J uses paranormal means. The long-time best friends
joined together as a writing team through their mutual love of hockey. Wonder
twin powers activated! Their hockey romances examine flawed characters with
heart, humor, and sexy sizzle.

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