Archive for the ‘Excerpt’ Category

 

Until the Truth Comes Out: A Novel

By Melanie Summers

 

Publication date: February 5th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

A rockstar at the height of his fame.
A wife on the edge.
A secret that can’t stay hidden.
And a single night that will change everything.

In the spring of 1997, Zane McCreight and his wife, Sienna, appear to have it all—sold-out stadiums, magazine covers, and the perfect family. But behind the image, their marriage is fracturing, and a scandal is quietly spiraling out of control.

As Zane’s band prepares for a massive tribute concert in the desert—under the eerie glow of the Hale-Bopp comet—tensions rise. Lies are told. Loyalties are tested. And two women find themselves trapped between ambition, betrayal, and the impossible weight of motherhood.

Then, on the night of the show—while the world is watching the stage—the youngest two McCreight children vanish.

Emotionally complex and deeply character-driven, Until the Truth Comes Out is a gripping tale of fame, marriage, the devastating cost of keeping secrets—and the strength of the women left to carry it all.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The Concert Under the Comet was set to take place just as Hale-Bopp reached its closest distance to Earth. There had been some concern all week that a bank of clouds might ruin the show. But thankfully, they drifted away that morning, allowing the stars—and the single streak of light that would get twenty-thousand rock fans out into the Mojave Desert on a cool spring Saturday night—to show themselves.

But it wasn’t only the comet they’d come to see (all of them either wildly rich or beautiful enough that someone with money would shell out eight thousand dollars for a single ticket). It was the lineup of stars. The biggest names in the music industry were there, several of whom would take the stage together for the first and last time. It would be televised around the globe, making it bigger than the original Woodstock. More important than Live Aid ‘85. Filled with more star power than a Vanity Fair Oscar party. It was a tribute to a dead legend. The rise of a new star. The end of innocence for one lost teenager. It would be the greatest reconciliation of any celebrity couple in history. Or it would be their demise. Those last two things would remain up in the air until morning.

The location was a well-guarded secret. It had to be if they were going to keep the riffraff away. The riffraff could watch via pay-per-view for a whopping $49.95 (the highest priced pay-per-view event up to that point in time). The record label executives, production team, and cable provider were certain the riffraff would be all too happy to pool their cash so they could say they’d been a part of it when they got to work the following Monday. They were right.

Two hours before sundown, the audience would be brought to the location in a steady stream of air-conditioned buses, limousines, and town cars. The lights would go up. The music would play. People would cheer themselves hoarse and drink and dance and sing along (most of them off-key, depending on how many drinks they had). When they’d go back to Las Vegas, their drivers would turn on the heat for their now-chilly, exhausted passengers. The drivers would be relieved they weren’t rowdy and out of control. Instead, they were dead quiet as the shock of what happened lingered.

That afternoon, five-month-old Elliott (who always went straight to sleep in the car) dozed through the long ride under the bright afternoon sun. Later, when the sky grew dark, his mother, Claudia Crawford, would point up at it and tell him about the comet, knowing he wouldn’t understand, but hoping it would somehow leave a faint imprint on his fresh, new mind. Claudia would give the performance of a lifetime that night. She was the only woman who’d been part of The Vows, but she wouldn’t play with them that evening. She would go on alone for reasons the audience wouldn’t understand until after.

Claudia had planned to leave little Elliott back at the hotel in Vegas with her very reliable French nanny. Only the nanny went out dancing the night before and never came back, so Claudia was forced to bring him to the desert and leave him in the care of two teenage girls she barely knew. But everything would be fine. Elliott would be safely tucked away in a holiday trailer nearby with the girls watching over him, and Claudia would only be gone for forty-five minutes. An hour tops.

But of course, that’s not what happened. Things ran late, as they do at these events, and she ended up leaving him for the better part of two hours. By the time she returned to the trailer, it would be empty.

Before long, she would find herself groping her way through the impossibly dark desert, screaming his name, gripped by a panic that only fills a parent whose child has vanished. It would occur to her that she might never again hold her baby. Never press his chubby cheek to hers, never smell his neck, never hear him laugh again. She might never hear him speak his first words or watch him take his first steps. What if he never got to do those things? What if he was already dead?

Her knees would give out, and she’d slide to the cold ground, and she’d be disgusted at herself for letting her emotions overwhelm her. She’d be hauled to her feet and ordered to keep going by the last person on earth she expected to help. Although her companion was only there because her child was missing too.

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About Author Melanie Summers:

Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally – then she’ll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for ‘K’ Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn’t require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she’s not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken ‘from above’. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something–more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

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When Time Flies

By Jennifer Moreno

 

Publication date: February 3rd 2026
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance, Time-Travel

She was just a flight attendant…until she landed in her past.

Indy Kash is a corporate flight attendant, jet-setting with the rich and famous in a world most only glimpse through glossy magazine covers. But beneath the polished service and designer luggage lies a past she’s spent years trying to forget. When a mysterious time-slip yanks her mid- flight into the trauma that derailed her life thirteen years ago, Indy is forced to face the crime that destroyed her future—and the man who made sure she took the fall.

Back in the present, he’s suddenly on board her jet, and Indy’s thrown into a battle across time to stop him from destroying the world. With a reluctant spirit guide, a crash course in time travel, and a love she never saw coming, Indy must untangle the past to rewrite her future.

Can she finally clear her name, save the world, and discover if time really does heal all wounds?

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The old rage from my liver rose, and my intestines churned like an electric whisk on the lowest speed. I was a cliché of both Chinese medicine and Ayurveda. The fact that my shame, anger, and fear culminated into Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD) really made me textbook. As the spiritual experts would say: You keep holding onto old crap.

I’d tried everything to let go of the past. I talked about my feelings to numerous therapists—some good, some not. I even attempted the “woo-woo” including:

Inner child work.

A soul retrieval from a Native American shaman (Apparently my soul couldn’t be retrieved).

Good ole fashioned journaling.

Cry therapy.

Ayahuasca in the Amazon jungle (The result? Shitting and vomiting at the same time).

Exploring my “shadow side.”

Breath work while a didgeridoo played in the background (One word: painful).

Shrooms.

Trauma workshops.

Belief coding.

Vision boarding (I was desperate).

Transcendental Meditation.

Ketamine.

Visits to psychics, mediums, astrologers, and tarot readers, who all agreed…

I was pretty fucked.

Then I returned to the Western approach and did a one-week stint each with Lexapro and Zoloft, which only gave me migraines. I freakin’ loved the I-can’t-even-get-anxious-if-I-wanted-to feeling of Xanax…but alas, it wasn’t enough.

Nothing worked.

I let out a sigh from my belly, as a multitude of yoga teachers had taught me. As I expelled the air, I felt strange…odd…not dizzy, not nauseous, but weird. I checked the monitor that displayed the airshow. Time To Destination, or TTD, was three hours to go until we landed in Teterboro, New Jersey.

The words and numbers on the monitor blurred into an astigmatism.

I rounded the corner into the crew rest and then plopped onto the club seat. Exhaustion crawled through my veins like slow lightning. My vision pulsed. The feeling was jetlag times infinity. I tried to stay centered and think through what was happening. I had been flying, almost nonstop to save money to buy a house. Crossing all those time zones and the constant fatigue combined with the IBD did not make for a healthy lifestyle.

I’d let myself get that run down. Damn.

My body felt weightless. It was like the moment before a fall, that breathless pause—only it never ended. A newfound hum in my ears grew until it swallowed my every thought. My eyes darted over my lap to the khaki fabric wall and finally to the window. The sky brightened to an angelic white, nearly blinding me. I wasn’t dizzy. I had the urge to stare straight ahead, yet I could not focus.

Am I vaporizing?

I stretched out my fingers. They were disappearing! I felt so airy, as if I could levitate off the seat. I grasped the armrests until…

I couldn’t grasp them anymore.

The outline of my body began to blur. I lost the solidity of flesh. Tiny sparks of light flickered along my arms, breaking apart into floating specks, like dust in the sun. These particles—that were once me—scattered outward. Where I had sat, I was now only a swirl of luminous dust, leaving me somewhere between confused and terrified.

The world spun ahead of me, leaving no room for panic, no room to understand. In an instant, purple lightning hummed and sounded like the constant static of a bug zapper. The spinning intensified, yet I wasn’t queasy.

What the fuck is going on?

I realized I was spinning through blackness, as if I was on an otherworldly plane. Then the particles of my body snapped back together and returned it to its human shape. I kept rotating and twirling until, out of nowhere, I smelled old wood and cleaning solution. And then…

There I was, sitting on a chair in a—was it a courtroom?

My mouth was so dry it felt like sand had settled on my tongue. A dull ache pulsed behind my temples, the kind that usually came from waking too early and too thirsty. My eyes darted across the courtroom, desperate to anchor on something steady, but every face seemed sharpened against me, a blur of judgement I couldn’t decipher. My chest tightened, heavy as stone, and though I begged my body to move, shift, or raise even a finger, nothing obeyed. It was as if my body had betrayed me; every molecule refused to budge. Before I could get one thought together, I heard:

“Indy, doodoo, what’s wrong?”

Mom.

Where am I?

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About Author Jennifer Moreno:

Jennifer Moreno has a master’s degree in creative writing from New York University. She was a corporate flight attendant for six years and is the host of the Corporate Flight Attendant podcast.

She is deeply involved in metaphysical practices, including obtaining certificates in trance and advanced mediumship; medical intuition; and psychic detection. She is also a reiki master and hosted a metaphysical podcast called Two Inches Off the Ground.

In her personal life, Jennifer is a proud Colombian adoptee. As a Colombian American, she enjoys improving her Spanish and exploring her roots in her native Colombia. “Jennifer” is her adopted American name, and “Moreno” is her original Colombian surname, thus combining these different…yet magical cultures.

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Some love stories are not meant to be –

not when the guy
I’ve fallen for is much older and has been in love with my mother for all these
years.

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Rosewood Dreams

Kaleidoscopic Dreams Duo Book 2

by Meghana Sarathy

Genre: New Adult Contemporary Age-Gap Romance

I’ve a long list of stuff I shouldn’t have done.
I should never have looked at her differently.
Never have had the playful banters.
Never have let her confess her feelings for me.
Never have tasted her sexy as sin lips.
Never have given into my primal temptations.
Never have let her work for me.
Never have indulged in her fantasies.
Never have let myself fall for real.

But it’s too late now.
I’m in too deep, consumed by everything Scarlet.

I was foolish enough to hope, daring to dream of a future with her.
But Veronica is back now, the harsh reality finally catching up to me.
She looks to me for support, vesting her trust in me.
She makes a request I can’t refuse.
Not at the cost of betraying her and breaking our bond of twenty years.

Scarlet can never be mine.
Not in this lifetime.
She will always be the daughter of the woman I once loved and can still do
anything for.
I’ve to let go of Scarlet for Veronica’s sake. It’s not even a choice.

Rosewood Dreams is the final book in the Kaleidoscopic Dreams Duology.
It’s an age-gap, forbidden romance.

**New Release on Feb 3 – Order Now!**

Amazon * Bookbub
* Goodreads

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She sniffles, not making an attempt to stop her tears.
They slowly glide down her cheeks, shining like pearls in the brightly lit
hallway. So hauntingly beautiful
—just like our
tragic love story.

“Once we
start, we won’t be able to stop. You and I both know this
,” I state in a
trembling voice.

Cupping her
cheeks, I lean my forehead against hers, using every ounce of my willpower to
not crush my lips on hers. I’m holding on to my last strand of control.

She searches
my eyes for love that is no longer hidden behind a thin veil of anger and
prudence. Imploring me with her tenacious gaze, she plays
on my vulnerabilities that are no longer guarded by my ironclad need to be righteous. She is
stripping away everything that was keeping me from her, and I’ve never felt so light and free.

My voice
can’t get through the ball of emotions stuck in my throat. It’s so easy to
release the words frozen on my tongue – yes. But what would that
make me? I’m the adult here. The one who has
to shoulder her responsibility, while still being a man who keeps his word and
sticks to his principles. But how can I get myself to refuse her when she’s
looking at me like that? Like a mere yes from me and she’ll be the happiest—on
top of the world. I want that more than anything
else, but at what cost?

“I need
time. I really need to think this through. I don’t want to make a decision in
haste that I’ll come to regret later.”

My response
appeases her. Relief floods her eyes as her lips upturn.

I expect her
to peck me
on the cheeks, like
she used to do before—teasing me, testing my
limits, and giving me hints. But to my
surprise, she doesn’t, and steps back instead, putting a respectable space
between us.

“Well, okay.
I understand. It’s still progress. I hope you
’ll tell me your
decision soon. When we meet in the office,
perhaps?”

Two days. You can start
in two days.” It’s hard to contain my
eagerness. I was content with her learning from me
and just being around me, but her proposal has
opened up possibilities that I had never dared
to consider
before.

Her smile
widens, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Sure, boss. Whatever you say. I can’t
wait.”

She just
addressed me
as ‘boss.’ Is that what she’d be calling me in the office?
I can’t wait to find out. Fuck. I love the sound of that.

“Okay then,
I’ll take my new car for a
drive…see you soon.”

She waves
bye, swaying her hips as she heads out.

I’m in
trouble. Deep trouble.

 

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Scarlet Dreams

Kaleidoscopic Dreams Duo Book 1

When I was still a little girl, playing with barbies, I saw
him as my Prince Charming.

The day I learned what a ‘crush’ meant, he was bestowed with
the title of my first crush.

As I transitioned into a teenager, he morphed into the man
of my dreams.

Every time I got myself off, he was the one who starred in
my dark fantasies.

The only one I ever wanted.

But for him, I was merely his best friend’s daughter.

Completely off limits and unattainable.

Until the storm hit.

A tragedy that changed the course of all our lives.

He was there through it all..

The man I so easily fell in love with

The one who finally saw me as a woman who had eyes only for
him.

Hope of finally getting a chance with him blossomed in me.

Only for reality to slap me in the face.

There was only one true love of his life.

It wasn’t me.

It was my MOM.

 

Scarlet Dreams is the first book in the Kaleidoscopic Dreams Duet. It’s an
age-gap forbidden romance.

**Get it FREE 2/2 – 2/4!!**

Amazon * Bookbub
* Goodreads

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Meghana Sarathy is from Bangalore, India.
She is an avid reader and also a writer. She writes Adult and New Adult
romance, and also wishes to try her hands at dark and psychological thrillers.
She especially loves reading and writing love triangles, taboo romance, and
angst filled stories that are quite complex and unconventional. Her books tend
to involve protagonists who are flawed, far from perfect, and as real as they
can get.  Her all-time favorite
characters are her very own characters- Jennifer, Brandon and Linden. She tends
to fall hard for boys who are either cocky, bossy, good flirts and total
charmers.

She spends most of her free time reading,
writing, watching anime or binging shows. Her favorite genres are Psychological
Thrillers, Teen Drama and Sci-fi (especially time travel stories). Being a
Product Owner in a fintech firm, she is plugged into the world of finance and
has also dabbled in cloud technology and Gen AI. She plays platform games in
PS5 when taking short breaks from writing. She is a crazy fan of Dragonball Z
and can be seen watching the episodes in repeat. Vegeta is her all-time favorite
anime character. Steins Gate and Monster come second in the list of her
favorite anime, and currently Mr. Robot and Dark are her fav non-anime series.

  

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon
* Goodreads

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Enter the Rosewood Dreams Giveaway Here

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The Rewrite

By Beth Rinyu

 

Publication date: January 29th 2026
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

How long would you hold a grudge?

If you’re Eloise Hendrickson, the answer is twenty-five years. After being humiliated by her overseas pen pal in seventh grade, Eloise, now a successful writer, has never quite let go of that one mortifying moment. One bad breakup, a late night of drunken internet sleuthing, and a half-baked excuse to bust through writer’s block send her straight into the path of the boy she’s hated her whole life.

Her plan? Turn him into the villain of her next novel.
The plot twist? He’s not the jerk she remembers.

Instead, he’s a charming chocolatier, a devoted family man, and awkwardly, a huge fan of her books. But as Eloise reconnects with the past, it’s not him who captures her attention, it’s someone else entirely. Someone unexpected. He’s rude, infuriating, and gets under her skin like no one else. He’s the exact opposite of the heroes she creates and the men she dates.

With new friends, a fresh perspective, and possibly the beginnings of something romantic—Eloise must decide if she’s finally ready to let go of the perfection she’s always demanded from herself as well as everyone around her, and embrace the unpredictable, wonderfully flawed life waiting for her. Maybe her next bestseller won’t be about righting the past after all. Maybe it will be about rewriting the future instead.

Warning: This book may contain chocolate and possibly a happily ever after.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

“Okay, so if booty calls are off the table. What about a friendship? Seeing he’s such a decent guy? You’re a lonely woman in a strange country. He’s an available strapping man. Maybe it would be nice to have someone just to hang out with. I mean… not someone like you and me someone. Let’s face it, I’m irreplaceable.”

“No,” I cut in. “Like I said, he’s nice. For someone else. Whether it’s sex or friendship, I’m not interested. And for the record, I’m not lonely.”

“Yes, yes, how could I forget, your social circle now includes preteens and senior citizens.”

“I happen to like my new friends, both young and old.”

“Ella, honey.” Charlie gave me that look that was equal parts exasperated and concerned. “All I’m saying is, maybe this is your moment to let your hair down a little. You’re always so tightly wound, and this breakup didn’t exactly loosen the screws. Maybe it’s time to expand your horizons. Try something different. Someone different. Maybe this guy is the kind of non-Kent energy you need.”

“Okay, when did you get a PHD in Psychology?” I snapped.

“Reading radar maps and reading the human psyche are kind of the same thing. Both are temperamental and can change in a heartbeat,” he teased.

“Charlie, I love and appreciate you, but stick to doing the weather. You’re much better at that!”

“One last question, and then I promise I’ll ixnay the subject.” “What?” I didn’t even try to hide my annoyance.

“Do you call him Mr. Moreau or Grace’s daddy?”

“Goodbye, Charlie!” I blew him a kiss and disconnected our call.

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About Author Beth Rinyu:

I’ve always had a passion for Creative Writing. There’s something special about being able to travel to a different place or become a different person with just the stroke of a pen—or in today’s world, a tap of the keyboard. Maybe it all started with the soap opera-level drama I used to script for my Barbie dolls. Plot twists, emotional arcs, surprise twins… it was basically a writer’s room before I even knew what one was. Whatever the spark, storytelling quickly became my favorite creative outlet. I craft stories that keep me on my toes and constantly push me beyond my comfort zone. Deep characters you either root for or love to hate are the ones I’m most drawn to.

Exploring new places helps me uncover fresh and exciting settings for my books, but there’s nothing quite like a quiet walk in the woods or sitting by the ocean close to home. Turns out, plot twists and inspiration arrive just as easily with a sea breeze—or a few curious squirrels.

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Roped Into Paradise: A Sweet Cruise Rom-Com

By Shanna Hatfield

 

Publication date: January 29th 2026
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

A cowboy, a cruise, and a meddling grandma—what could go wrong?
JJ McKade expected to spend two weeks with his grandmother at her condo in sunny Florida, celebrating her birthday. Instead, he got shanghaied by his mischievous grandma on a Caribbean cruise—complete with hot pink luggage, a gaggle of giggling octogenarians, and a humiliating childhood nickname haunting his every move.

Between meddling matchmakers, unexpected friendships, and the endless chaos of cruise life, JJ can’t help being drawn to Kinsley Kline, the ship’s enchanting horticulturist. There’s just one catch: crew fraternizing with passengers is strictly forbidden.

With only a few months left in her contract aboard The Affinity, Kinsley can’t let anything rock her boat or derail her plans. Then the arrival of a hunky cowboy on the ship makes her question if some rules are meant to be broken, and a little boat rocking is a good thing.

From sun-drenched beaches to moonlit strolls, JJ and Kinsley must decide if an onboard romance can last on land, and if love is worth risking their hearts.

Packed with laughter, longing, and a grandmother who refuses to play by the rules, Roped Into Paradise is a heartwarming romantic comedy about family, hope, and finding love where you least expect it. Perfect for fans of witty banter, slow-burn romance, and cruise ship escapades that sweep you off your feet.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

They moved off the elevator and had only taken a step when Trudy’s air-raid siren voice alerted him to the presence of his grandmother’s friends.

The gazes of everyone in the vicinity swiveled to them as Trudy and Marsha gave Grams big hugs, then all four women turned to JJ. The scrutiny in their gazes was enough to unsettle him, but from the corner of his eye, he saw something move and shifted just slightly to see Kinsley pressing moss inside a planter filled with colorful blooming flowers.

“Yoohoo! Girls! If you’re looking for a great guy to date, this one is single!” Trudy shouted, then she and Marsha made exaggerated pointing motions at JJ.

The heat searing from his neck to the top of his head made him momentarily question if he might implode. The mortification he felt was indescribable, particularly with Kinsley staring at him wide-eyed, as though she wasn’t sure what to make of Trudy’s declaration. He certainly had no idea what to do with the big-mouthed old woman.

JJ closed his eyes and wished Neptune would rise from the sea, reach into the ship, and drag him under. Where was a good, solid iceberg when you needed it for a distraction?

At the very least, maybe they’d sail straight into the Bermuda Triangle. After all, this doomed adventure had felt like a trip through a nightmarish alternate universe from the moment his grandmother had announced they were taking it. Right now, with dozens of passengers laughing at him and a few women passing him scribbled notes with their room numbers, he forgot about the fun he’d had earlier in the day.

It was hard to focus on anything when he wanted to simply disappear.

JJ had never enjoyed being the center of attention. Sure, he’d played sports in high school and even participated in rodeo a few years after he graduated, but the attention wasn’t solely on him, like he’d stepped into the glaring center of a spotlight.

Grams and Shirley were madly whispering something to Trudy and Marsha, but before he could kick his brain back in gear enough to hear what they said, a hand settled on his shoulder. He looked over to see Ted, who nodded once to him. Wynn offered a commiserating look of encouragement.

Afraid to glance at Kinsley but needing to know if she had joined those laughing at him, he turned his head, and their gazes connected. She smiled and winked at him, and that one little gesture made him feel better than anything anyone else could have offered.

“Let’s get these cackling hens to the restaurant before they humiliate every male on the ship,” Ted said quietly, moving forward to stake his claim beside Grams.

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About Author Shanna Hatfield:

USA Today Bestselling Author Shanna Hatfield writes sweet romances rich with relatable characters, small town settings that feel like home, humor, and hope.

Her historical westerns have been described as “reminiscent of the era captured by Bonanza and The Virginian” while her contemporary works have been called “laugh-out-loud funny, and a little heart-pumping sexy without being explicit in any way.”

When this farm girl isn’t writing or indulging in rich, decadent chocolate, Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller. She also experiments with recipes, snaps photos of her adorable nephew, and caters to the whims of a cranky cat named Drooley.

To learn more about Shanna or the books she writes, visit her website http://shannahatfield.com or find out more about her here: linktr.ee/ShannaHatfield

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Had Me At Howdy

By Mary Karlik

 

(A Hillside * Spring Creek Novel)
Publication date: November 22nd 2025
Genres: Comedy, Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult

Platinum credit card? Deactivated. New car? Sold. Best life ever? Canceled.

Thanks to my dad losing his job, we’ve ditched Chicago for Fumbuck, Texas—population: redneck. Now I’m living on a rundown farm, scrubbing dishes, and driving a rusty pickup. Worst of all? I’m stuck working alongside a cowboy.

But this Cinderella isn’t giving up. I’ll claw my way back to the luxe life I left behind—and no one, not even infuriatingly chill, stupidly handsome Austin McCoy is going to stop me. Even if he does make feeding the chickens weirdly… enjoyable.

She thinks she’s just passing through. I’m hoping she stays.
I kind of feel for the Quinn sisters. City girls don’t belong in Spring Creek—but Kelsey? There’s more to her than designer labels and eye rolls. When she forgets to be angry, I see it—like the way her eyes light up when she feeds the chickens.

Now all I have to do is convince her the guy she really wants is me, not some rich dude taking her to a ball in Chicago.

Content Warning: This work contains a subplot involving death, grief, and an off-page instance of date rape. While these events are not depicted directly, they are referenced and may be distressing to some readers.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The universe had completely crapped on Kelsey Quinn’s life.

She dabbed at her eyes, blew her nose, and wadded up the tissue before dropping it to the pile on the seat next to her. Pressing her forehead against the car window, she watched the scenery fly by at seventy miles per hour. They passed Bob’s Stay and Go combination gas station—fast food restaurant—hotel, followed by some weird concrete starship-shaped pizza parlor. Next, three-foot fluorescent letters screamed about redemption across a junkyard fence surrounding rusted pieces of mangled metal. The few words of scripture painted there weren’t going change her fate. Her dad was in the driver’s seat and they were heading straight for the armpit of Texas.

With a sigh she slumped against the seat and tried not to think about the boyfriend who’d been ripped from her life, or the best friend she’d been forced to leave behind. But it wasn’t just her forced exile from Drew and Zoe. She’d lost her identity. At St. Monica’s, she knew who she was and where she fit in. It was her senior year, the year she’d looked forward to for as long as she was in school. They had taken it away with less thought than the car they’d sold one afternoon while she and Zoe were shopping. None of it was her fault. She was a victim of her dad’s incompetence on one hand and her sister’s immorality on the other.

Her dad exited onto a two-lane highway where they were greeted by a faded, Welcome to Hillside Texas, Population 5000, sign. They slowed to a crawl as they entered the town. At a four-way stop her mom screeched, “Oh my God Tom, look at the cute little diner. We’re all starving, let’s stop before we go to the house.”

“Sounds good to me. Jack’s not expecting us for another couple of hours anyway.” Dad angled the Infinity between two pickup trucks and turned off the engine.

The diner was nestled in the center of a row of dilapidated two story buildings. Early Bird Café was painted in bright blue letters across the glass. Kelsey pulled her compact mirror from her purse and studied her reflection. She’d been crying for two days, no amount of makeup magic would fix her swollen red eyes. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care about this place or these people. She sure as heck didn’t care what they thought about her. She shoved the mirror back into her purse.

Her younger sister, Ryan, looked all wide-eyed and curious. And worse, she actually looked excited to investigate this hick little town. Why not? It was her fault they were in this mess in the first place. Her parents would have been justified to ship Ryan off to some kind of school for troubled kids. But no—Quinns don’t give up on their own. Everybody had to suffer because Ryan couldn’t say no to drugs or boys.

Mackenzie, Kelsey’s youngest sister, flipped her compact gymnast’s body from the third seat to the back seat nailing Ryan in the shoulder with her foot.

“Watch it!” Ryan drew her fist back, but before she could get the hit off Mackenzie flashed a cherub smile and released a powder sugar apology. Yeah. That wasn’t an accident. Kelsey almost smiled when she saw foot impact with shoulder. Mackenzie had been fairly silent about the ruin Ryan’s exploits had done to her life. Apparently, she had her limits too.

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About Author Mary Karlik:

Join Mary’s newsletter: https://maryjwilson.com/contact/

Mary Karlik (also writing as Mary J. Wilson) combines her Texas roots with her Scottish heritage to write happily-ever-afters from Texas to Scotland.

Mary has five indie-published contemporary young adult romance novels and two fantasy novels.

Mary earned her MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University, has a B.S. degree from Texas A&M University, and is currently studying Scottish Gaelic at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig in Skye, Scotland. She is also a certified, professional ski instructor and a Registered Nurse.

Mary is an active member of Contemporary Romance Writers, Romance Writers of America, and Dallas Area Romance Authors. Married to a Scott, Mary lives in both and Scotland and Texas.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Facebook / Newsletter / Bookbub

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Lifestyle: Trust Fall

By Kasey Fallon

 

Publication date: January 27th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

She needs a Dom.
A stalker wants to own her.

And once you’re in it, the LifeStyle never lets go.
On the outskirts of Philadelphia, the LifeStyle Club caters to those with certain… tastes.

Grayson is a born Dominant – and owning LifeS is exactly where he belongs. With a new underground fight arena ready to launch, he’s missing only one thing: a fighter strong enough to survive it.

Lexi has survived worse.

Haunted by PTSD, Lexi trusts no one but herself. She runs her own gym, makes her own rules, and refuses to submit – to anyone. But beneath her iron control lies a perilous secret. One that threatens to consume her… unless she can find a Dom.

When Grayson and Lexi collide, desire isn’t the only thing at stake.

Someone is watching.
Someone wants Lexi.
And in the LifeStyle, submission can be salvation – or a deadly mistake.

Welcome to the LifeStyle.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

LEXI

She couldn’t seem to find the clasp, and her breath was coming in short bursts. Her shirt felt too tight, her scalp was tingling, and in some part of her brain she was dimly aware that she was having a panic attack.

The gentle ding of the door opening didn’t register with her until a tall shadow fell across her. Attempting to breathe in a four-count, Lexi glanced up for less than a heartbeat at the baritone hello. She grunted in return and went back to hyperventilating, wishing they would walk away.

GRAYSON

For a moment, he was confused why she was hunched over on the bench. She was struggling with something… a necklace? Her breathing was coming in quick, uneven pants, and her gaze went straight through him.

“Good morning,” he tried casually.

He still had in mind that perhaps something he’d done or said the other day had been too much and she’d run. He had to be a little more tame, he thought. Casually being stalked, even for just one morning, was bound to put anyone on edge. At least until she was one hundred percent in, and he figured out what to do with her. But his good morning went unanswered.

Lexi made a garbled sound in the back of her throat, and he wondered if she was the opposite of a morning person. Or maybe-

“Do you need help?”

Her only response was those quick panting breaths. Her movements got more frantic, and she went to stand. Grayson placed a hand as gently as he could on her shoulder.

“Alexis. What’s wrong?”

She knocked his hand away and took two running steps to get past him. Panic. Without thinking it through, he caught up to her in one step. Spinning her around by her shoulder, he ignored the elbow that skimmed his diaphragm as she flailed behind her.

Using his forward momentum, he walked her backward until her back was against the wall. The white concrete must have been cool on her back, but her breath continued in short pants and a red flush was spreading across her chest and up into her face. She brought her hands up in fists and he thought for a heartbeat he might have to hold them down or he’d get hit. But her fingers just curled themselves into the edges of his t-shirt, grabbing on to something unidentifiable inside him. He ignored it.

She was looking at him, but she wasn’t seeing him. Her dark eyes were wide and wouldn’t focus, looking everywhere but into his. Both of his hands pushed her back against the wall by her ribcage.

“Alexis. Breathe.”

He used a deeper voice, mindful of startling her. Of course, he mused, she couldn’t get much more worked up than she already was. Maybe there was no harm in using his Dom voice. Much deeper than his speaking voice and sharp, he tried to reserve it for situations that needed it. This qualified.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he commanded.

Lexi jumped, but still didn’t look him in the eye. Her hands made their way to her throat, scratching at where her necklace lay. Grayson winced at the scratches. His voice whipped out.

“Stop.”

She stopped clawing at her own neck, but her breathing was still too fast.

“Breathe.”

It wasn’t working. He leaned forward, putting more of his weight against his arms. He slid his left forearm up between her breasts against her sternum, until his hand was splayed at the base of her throat, but he made sure to not actually touch her neck. She was having enough trouble breathing as it was.

One of her knees came up, and he pushed her thigh back with his knee against the wall, but it seemed like she didn’t even notice. Like the knee had been a reflex. He reached his right hand up to cup the side of her face and forced her face up to his.

Look at me.

It got through. Her breath was still heaving with shallow gasps, but she was looking straight up at him with wide eyes.

Tell me what’s wrong.”

Lexi shuddered slightly.

“I can’t breathe. It’s too tight.”

His eyes flicked down to the thin silver chain at her neck. It was actually a very long chain, and held only a thin butterfly at the end. His lack of response seemed to agitate her, and she clawed at her neck again, this time not even hitting the chain. He raised his left hand a couple of inches to block her own hands.

Stop moving.”

Her eyes were watery, but she stopped moving. For someone who might not be an actual submissive, she was certainly… responsive.

“I don’t want to die again.”

Her voice came out in a strangled whisper. Her eyes pleaded up at him. Shocked, Grayson could only stare at her for a moment.

Breathe. I won’t hurt you. Stop moving.”

His voice had gotten slower with the commands, and she seemed mesmerized by his unblinking stare. She finally stopped pushing against his hands and relaxed against the wall, taking rapid, shallow breaths.

With his left forearm holding her still up against her sternum, he used his left hand to grab at the chain’s little clasp. He didn’t want to look away from her. It was working; he was completely in charge. She was breathing more steadily, and he didn’t want to break their eye contact.

Grayson finally got it to release, although he thought some part of it might have snapped. He slid it off her neck and held it loosely in his hand, but he didn’t move otherwise. He didn’t think she’d noticed that the necklace was gone.

“It’s gone. Breathe.”

Lexi inhaled deeply, and he was finding it difficult to back away. She had responded so perfectly; exactly as he’d wanted her to. Maybe she wasn’t a Domme? Could she really be submissive under all this fight? His body took that moment to recognize that he had her securely pinned against a wall, and she was staring up at him, waiting. He could see the exact moment when she fought it off as her eyes snapped with clarity. Grayson heard footsteps coming at them fast as she blinked rapidly.

“Lexi! What the fuck? Who the fuck is this? Are you okay?” Eddie jogged up, his short dreads bouncing.

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About Author Kasey Fallon:

Kasey grew up on the East Coast, from Maine to North Carolina. She loves two things above all in nature: the water, and the forest. While she might not love her nightmares, they do inspire many of her works. A recipient of the Editor’s Choice Award from the International Library of Poetry, she writes across several genres. She and her dog can be found investigating new hiking trails, or curled up on the couch as he pushes her computer off her lap to make room for himself.

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The Breaking of Time

By J.J. Hebert

 

(Chronicles of the Arvynth, #1)
Publication date: November 25th 2025
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

USA Today bestselling author J. J. Hebert’s brand-new urban fantasy series Chronicles of the Arvynth begins with The Breaking of Time, a novel about a devoted father whose desperate act to save his son fractures reality itself, awakening ancient magic and drawing him back into the path of an immortal order he once betrayed, where love, time, and silence collide in a race against eternity.

Mariel Hemingway’s Book Club Selection (Best Urban Fantasy):

“This novel is heartfelt, gripping, and memorable in all the best ways.” —Mariel Hemingway, Bestselling Author & Oscar-Nominated Actress ★★★★★

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ONE FATHER’S DESPERATE CHOICE FRACTURES TIME AND REALITY ITSELF.

To everyone around him, Daniel Ward is a mild-mannered accountant, devoted husband and father in a quiet New England suburb. But when his ten-year-old son chases a runaway soccer ball into the street, straight into the path of a speeding truck, Daniel does the impossible. He freezes time.

That single act of defiance exposes the secret he’s buried for decades. His magic awakens the ancient order he once betrayed, the Arvynth, a brotherhood of immortal sorcerers devoted to stillness and death, determined to silence the world.

As his carefully constructed life unravels, Daniel must protect his family while evading the brotherhood that hunts him. Every second he steals from time feeds the void that seeks to consume it, threatening not only the people he loves but reality itself.

Forced to choose between sacrifice and survival, Daniel discovers the truth: sometimes the loudest act of love is defiance.

The Breaking of Time is a race against eternity, a supernatural thriller that fuses urban fantasy and family drama in a story about the noise of life, the cost of power, and one father’s desperate fight to keep the world from falling silent.

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PRAISE FOR THE AWARD-WINNING URBAN FANTASY NOVEL THE BREAKING OF TIME:

“This work will grab readers’ attention early as Hebert combines a diverse array of genres—fantasy, thriller, family road novel, and others—into a fast-paced, character-driven adventure… An exciting, tightly written tale of magic… Our verdict: Get it.” —Kirkus Reviews

The Breaking of Time is meticulously crafted to explore themes of love, loss, redemption, and the struggle to balance personal desires with greater responsibilities.” —BookLife/Publishers Weekly (EDITOR’S PICK)

The Breaking of Time: Chronicles of the Arvynth delivers cinematic urban fantasy that bridges generations, echoing the mythic gravity and moral weight of J.R.R. Tolkien while unfolding within a sleek, contemporary world… This is prestige fantasy…” —Jesse Metcalfe, Award-Winning Actor ★★★★★

“An immersive paranormal thriller that balances the rich worldbuilding and in-depth lore characteristic of fantasy fiction with the all-too-human dramas of identity, family, and the consequences of secrecy.” —Independent Book Review (STARRED review)

“If you like magic that feels tactile and real, or if you enjoy emotional stakes wrapped inside supernatural danger, this book will hit the spot.” —Literary Titan★★★★★ (Gold Winner, Literary Titan Book Award: Fiction 2026)

“A smartly plotted supernatural thriller with a strong, charismatic protagonist to root for. A Wishing Shelf Recommended Read!” —The Wishing Shelf ★★★★★

“A winning blend of the supernatural and family adventure that crackles with heart and imagination.” —BestThrillers ★★★★★

“A wonderfully complex dive into the world of fantasy… fast-paced, magical…” —Readers’ Favorite ★★★★★

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

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CHAPTER 1:

I’ve spent years pretending to be someone I’m not.

The thought surfaces every morning when I shave, watching the face in the mirror—a face that should be ancient, centuries-old, but instead shows only the faint creases of a man in his early forties. A single gray hair at my temple that Elena keeps threatening to pluck. The kind of weathering that comes from the lost sleep of parenthood and mortgage payments, not from outliving empires.

To everyone else, I’m Daniel Ward—husband, father, the sort of man who mows the lawn on Saturdays and forgets garbage day at least twice a month. My neighbors wave when I’m pulling out the recycling bins, their smiles automatic and easy. Mrs. Dante from next door brings over her extra zucchini in late summer, always too much, always apologizing for the abundance. My coworkers at the accounting firm think I’m polite but quiet, the guy who keeps his head down and never complains about the coffee. My wife calls me dependable, though sometimes I catch a question in her eyes, a flicker of something she can’t quite name.

They all believe they know me.

They don’t.

The other man—the one buried under the flannel shirts and PTA meetings—still lurks somewhere beneath the surface. He’s the one who used to speak to the unseen currents of the world, who could twist wind and time if he chose, who once stood in a circle of elders and made the sky itself hold its breath. But I buried him twenty years ago, the day I first saw Elena across a crowded bookstore, her laugh carrying over the ambient music like a bell I didn’t know I’d been waiting to hear. I traded his power for peace, his truth for love, his ancient purpose for the warm weight of a child falling asleep on my chest. I told myself I could be normal, that five hundred and forty-three years of magic could be folded up and tucked away like old photographs in a drawer.

I even started to believe it.

Today was supposed to be an ordinary day. Another quiet Saturday, nothing more. But when does anything ever go as planned?

It was one of those deceptive autumn afternoons where New England shows off—sun bright and warm on the skin, gilding everything gold. The kind of day that makes you forget winter is coming. Trees along Brookfield Lane shed their red and gold. They carpeted the sidewalks in layers of crimson and amber, crunching underfoot like breaking glass. The whole world felt fragile, caught between seasons, holding its breath before the fall.

I stood at the end of our driveway, sipping coffee that had long gone lukewarm. The mug—a Father’s Day gift from three years ago with “World’s Coolest Dad” printed in fading letters—hung heavy in my hand, forgotten. I was watching the Hendersons’ cat stalk something invisible through their garden, its tail twitching with predatory focus, when Eli kicked his soccer ball a little too hard.

The sound was sharp—that hollow thwack of synthetic leather against a ten-year-old’s foot, released with more enthusiasm than aim. The ball bounced once, twice, then caught the curb at an angle and rolled into the street, picking up speed as it curved toward the stop sign at the corner.

Eli chased it before I could even form the word wait.

He wore his blue hoodie—the one with the frayed cuffs he refused to let Elena fix, the white stripes on the sleeves already graying from too many washes, and one drawstring longer than the other because he’d chewed on it during homework the night before. His sneakers were grass-stained, laces trailing, his gangly ten-year-old body a blur of elbows and knees as he ran with a reckless abandon only children possess. The kind of innocence that comes from not yet understanding that the world has teeth.

The ball slipped into the road, rolling lazily toward the middle of the lane. Eli followed without looking, without thinking, his whole world narrowed to that sphere of black and white pentagons.

And then I heard it.

An approaching car. Not the gentle whisper of someone cruising through the neighborhood, but the aggressive growl of speed—too much speed for a residential street. A truck came around the bend far too fast. The driver probably wasn’t paying attention, likely glancing at his phone or reaching for something on the passenger seat, thinking about anything but the quiet street where children played.

I felt my stomach drop, that vertiginous lurch that comes not from falling but from watching someone you love step off the edge.

The coffee mug slipped from my fingers, hitting the driveway with a dull crack. Coffee spread across the concrete in a dark stain that looked too much like blood.

“Eli!” I shouted. “Look out!”

He didn’t hear. The wind was wrong, carrying sound away from him, and he was bent over the ball now, just a few feet from the centerline, small hands reaching down to scoop it up. His hood had fallen back, revealing the stubborn cowlick at his crown that Elena had tried to smooth down this morning—the same stubborn swirl of hair I’d seen on Jonas five hundred years ago.

The driver saw him at the last minute—I could see the panic flash across his face through the windshield, his mouth opening in what might have been a shout or a curse. He tried to brake—the nose of the truck dipped as he slammed his foot down—but there wasn’t enough distance, not enough time.

The laws of physics are beautiful and merciless. Mass times velocity. Momentum conserved. A two-ton truck traveling at forty miles per hour needs approximately ninety feet to stop.

My son was thirty feet away.

The math was simple. The outcome inevitable.

Everything inside me fractured.

The years I’d spent pretending to be ordinary—gone, shattered like ice on pavement. The quiet life, the safe life, the carefully constructed fiction of Daniel Ward, the accountant—gone. Twenty years of restraint, of biting my tongue when the old words tried to surface, of letting the magic sleep dormant in my bones—all of it evaporated in the space between heartbeats.

My son was about to die, and the man I’d been pretending to be had no way to stop it.

The other man—the buried one—could.

It began as a vibration in my chest, not painful but insistent, like thunder humming before a storm breaks or the first tremor before an earthquake tears the world open. The sensation spread through my ribcage, resonating in the hollow spaces between bone, traveling down into my gut. My hands began to tingle, then burn, the old pathways of power waking, remembering their purpose.

The world thinned around me, like reality itself was just a membrane stretched too tight, waiting for permission to stop turning.

My vision sharpened with supernatural clarity—I could see each particle of dust hanging in the light, suspended like tiny stars. I could see the individual vibrations in the air, the way sound moves in waves, the molecular dance of oxygen and nitrogen. I could see the truck’s trajectory mapped out in lines of probability, see the exact angle at which metal would meet flesh, see the moment my son would stop being my son and become a memory, a ghost, another name added to the long list of those I’d failed to save.

The spell came unbidden to my lips, rising from a place deeper than thought, older than intention.

The syllables were hot and metallic on my tongue, tasting of copper and electricity, of blood and starlight. They weren’t English—weren’t any language spoken in many, many years.

They were Arvynth.

The old words.

The ones I’d sworn I’d never speak again.

“Fractura Tempora.”

The sound tore through the air like a blade through fabric, like lightning splitting the sky, like the world itself being unzipped at the seams.

And reality obeyed.

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About Author J. J. Hebert:

J. J. Hebert is the #1 Amazon, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of eight books, including his acclaimed debut Unconventional and The Backwards K, which, according to Newsweek, is currently in development for film adaptation. His latest #1 bestsellers, both published in 2025, are The Breaking of Time: Chronicles of the Arvynth and The Hands-On Author: Taking Control of Your Book Marketing Journey. A lifelong New England resident, Hebert frequently weaves the region’s landscapes and atmosphere into his storytelling. He is also the award-winning CEO and Founder of MindStir Media, a leading hybrid book publisher. Join his community of over 2 million followers across Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and X (formerly Twitter) @authorjjhebert.

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The Missing Corpse by Yasin Kakande Banner

THE MISSING CORPSE
by Yasin Kakande
January 12 – February 6, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
THE GENERAL’S PROJECT

 

The president is dead. His son’s pretending he’s not. And the corpse? Well, that’s missing.

When the CIA sniffs out whispers that an African general—who also happens to be the president’s darling son—may have murdered dear old dad and stashed the body like last week’s leftovers, they send in their best bloodhound: Agent Shawn Wayles. He’s good at two things—digging up dirt and getting shot at in places the U.S. swears it’s not involved. This time, Shawn’s not alone. He’s paired with an LGBTQ couple who have more secrets than the Vatican and fewer moral brakes. Their mission? Retrieve the dead president’s body from the general’s paranoid, trigger-happy security team. Because in this twisted power struggle, it’s not the living who rule—it’s the guy in the coffin. And whoever has the corpse… controls the country.

Praise for The Missing Corpse:

“A work of fiction told with the force of truth.” ~ The Niche “Right off the bat, I could tell this was going to be a dark read. There is a real sense of menace and threat from the get go… Thoroughly enjoyed this and will definitely be up for reading any future books.” ~ Donna Morfett, Goodreads Review “I thought the plot was a fantastic idea and brilliantly written.” ~ Claire Ball, Goodreads Review

 

Book Details:

Genre: Crime Thriller

Published by: Black Writers Ink LLC Publication Date: September 11, 2025 Number of Pages: 379 ISBN: 979-8990984448 Series: The General’s Project, Book 2

Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Audible

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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The General knew—like a rotting tooth you can’t stop tonguing—just how hard his old man had worked to hammer him into something resembling a real man, using boot camps, backdoor deals, and enough disappointment to fill a graveyard. Before the president found Twitter—sorry, X—for him, he mostly just found disappointment. And not the subtle, quiet kind. No, this was loud, public, teeth-grinding failure. The kind that makes a father grip his whiskey glass hard enough to shatter it. The boy was dull. A wet match in a thunderstorm. The people ignored him like a pothole they’d grown used to swerving around. The president, who fancied himself a blend of warlord and wise grandfather, had done all the right things—by dictator standards. He’d oiled the machinery, laid the bricks. He’d shipped the lad off to Sandhurst, the British womb for future coup-makers and ceremonial dictators. But the academy spat him out like a bad oyster after just one year. Reason? “Intellectual capacity insufficient for command responsibilities.” That’s British for “the boy was dumb as soup.” Panic set in. The president, no stranger to coups or cover-ups, scrambled for another boot camp that would accept his undercooked progeny. And God bless Africa—it never disappoints. Egypt, under old mummy Hosni Mubarak, opened its arms. The president’s warning was clear as day and sharp as a bayonet: “If you fail here, don’t ever mention my name again.” The boy emerged months later with a piece of paper that said he could command a battalion. No one bothered to ask if it was his own handwriting. Still not satisfied, Daddy rang his buddies in Langley. Mr. Taylor—CIA spook with a neck like a tree stump—hooked him up with a slot at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. That’s where the U.S. trained its foreign military friends—the ones that smiled for cameras by day and broke skulls by night. The General graduated. Barely. His grades so low they had to be excavated. Back home, the president, desperate to turn the boy into something—anything—decided to mold him into a public figure. He hired speech coaches, media whisperers, ex-BBC anchors, even a former Miss Uganda who once read the weather on WBS Television. Still, every time the General opened his mouth in public, it was a horror show. His hands trembled like a leaf in a blender. He couldn’t pronounce words. Once, he called “sovereignty” soup-ver-nanny and the room went so silent you could hear careers dying. But then came the miracle: Twitter. Well, X. Rebranded like a shady funeral home. The president’s advisors—witchdoctors in suits—pitched a bold idea: give the boy a Twitter account. Hire a comedian ghostwriter. Make him sound dangerous. Sexy. Unhinged. Like Idi Amin with a smartphone. Enter the ghostwriter—a washed-up tabloid journalist who once faked an alien sighting in Karamoja and got sued by a Catholic bishop. The guy was perfect. He knew how to stir the pot with one tweet and have the country boiling by lunch. The General gave him ideas—half-mumbled thoughts between sips of imported whiskey—and the ghostwriter turned them into gold. Tweets like: Kenya has two weeks left. Consider this your final warning. #WeMarchAtDawn The country gasped. The president “fired” the General. He even sent an apology to Kenya. A public scandal. Oh no, Daddy can’t control his baby boy! The media gobbled it up like pigs at a buffet. But behind the curtain, the ghostwriter kept churning out wild, headline-drenched tweets. The General was now lusting after Beyoncé and Ayra Starr like a horny war god in fatigues. He made bizarre threats about airstrikes on Tanzanian Bongo Flava concerts. People were horrified. People were entertained. *** Excerpt from chapter 24 of The Missing Corpse by Yasin Kakande. Copyright 2025 by Yasin Kakande. Reproduced with permission from Yasin Kakande. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Yasin Kakande:

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Yasin Kakande

Yasin Kakande is an international journalist, TED Global Fellow, and author of several critically praised non-fiction books, including “Why We Are Coming” and “Slave States,” which offer fresh perspectives on immigration and geopolitics. His journalism career includes contributions to outlets such as The New York Times, Thomson Reuters, Al Jazeera, The National, and The Boston Globe. Yasin holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Emerson College and resides outside Boston.

Catch Up With Yasin Kakande:

Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub – @yasikak Instagram – @yasikak Threads – @yasikak X – @yasikak Facebook – @yasikak

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway! Click here to view the Tour Schedule  

 

 

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To Hell and Back

By Bill Blume

 

Publication date: January 20th 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy

For one pair of swordfighters, their marriage is worth going to Hell and back.

Ty and Dani are a modern-day, swordfighting husband-and-wife duo who help with exorcisms until a demon kills Dani’s mother and all of their fellow exorcists. Now, they’re on a quest for revenge through the realms of Hell, and killing the demon is just the start of the journey. To keep the demon from reviving, Dani and Ty must escape Hell within seven days and cast the demon’s head and heart into an Eternal Flame. To get back to the mortal realm in time, they rely on their small terrier Wicket to lead them past the demon’s army and thousands of other horrors.

To Hell and Back takes readers on an epic journey perfect for those who believe love can overcome any challenge and that a devoted dog makes the perfect guide no matter where you need to go.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

They didn’t drive far, parking on a cobblestone street next to the café, sitting on a street corner. The entire front wall of the café was made up of tall doors that were all turned open to take advantage of the pleasant spring weather. Ty sucked down his coffee. It tasted stronger than what he preferred, but as tired as he was, he considered that a good thing.

“I imagine you have a lot of questions.” Maria sat at one of the tables closest to the sidewalk with people dressed in business suits and hospital scrubs walking by. She crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, draping her arm over the back of it.

“I’m told you work for the church?” He decided against gambling on whether it was the Catholic or Episcopal Church.

“Heard that, did you?” She cracked an amused grin, as if she’d been privy to his conversation with Barry. “That’s only partially true. We’re funded by the Church of England, but we don’t answer to them.”

Taking a chug of his coffee, Ty then asked, “And who is we?”

“A fair question, and I’ll get to that soon enough.” She paused for her own sip of coffee. When she continued, she stared out at the street as cars rumbled across the cobblestones. “I’d like to talk about you a bit first. I notice you’ve started the transition.”

“The what?”

“Oh, you’re trying to find a way to make a living off that sword arm of yours that doesn’t require a nine-to-five job typing on a keyboard or some other nonsense. You’re going the usual route: giving lessons to wannabes drunk on fantasies of medieval knights or Star Wars. You know. The usual stuff.” She looked at him with a smirk that assured him she already knew the answer to her next question. “You enjoying all that?”

He cleared his throat and sniffed. His sinuses were still killing him.

“I’m paying my bills.” He shrugged, trying to mimic her nonchalance by turning his focus out onto the street and the passersby. Didn’t keep him from seeing her amused reaction to his answer, that she knew he was full of shit.

Yeah, he’d taken to giving part-time lessons at a local fencing club that included saber fighting. Most of the job seemed more about punishing clients into the realization that they weren’t going to turn into Inigo Montoya overnight and that fighting with a sword required both finesse and brutality. Being good with a sword required a killer instinct. Forcing others with limited skills to realize they didn’t have that certain something was taking a toll on him.

“Look, Mr. Faison.” She leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table. “For some people that’s enough, and that’s fine.” The way she said “fine” left little doubt it was anything but that. “But someone like you…” She shook her head.

He tried to bluff, acting amused and disinterested, but his acting skills failed him again. “You think so?”

The way her expression hardened, that single eye narrowing on him, forced his full focus on her. “I think you’re the kind of person who’s only ever whole when he’s got a sword in his hand and a real fight in front of him.”

She leaned back in her chair again, with all the satisfaction of a wildcat dining on a fresh kill. The silence offered him a chance to respond, but she’d left him speechless. No one had ever peeled him down to his bones like this—not even his parents—not this fast or with such ease.

After giving him his chance to answer and seeing he wasn’t able to, Maria sipped her coffee and then continued. “You’re twenty-six. You used to finish in the top three at most competitions you entered but you haven’t in more than a year. It’s not that your skills or body are fading, and it’s not because you’re distracted by the side work that pays the bills. No, it’s because even the competitions are starting to bore you. Those fights aren’t real anymore, because all that’s at stake there is pride.”

“And what? You’re offering me a ‘real fight’? What is this? Some kind of underground sword fight club, where the loser dies, and the first rule is to not talk about it?”

She shook her head, grinning at his attempt at wit. “This is no game or club. Underground? Somewhat. But what you’ll be doing will make a real difference in people’s lives. I’m offering you a chance to reclaim that fire that ignited the moment you first touched a sword.

“I’m giving you a chance to find your heart.”

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About Author Bill Blume:

Bill Blume discovered his love for the written word while in high school and has been writing ever since. His latest novel, West of Apocalypse, is now available from Time Killer Publishing. His short stories have been published in many fantasy anthologies and various ezines.

Like the father figure in his “Gidion Keep, Vampire Hunter” novels, Bill works as a 911 dispatcher for Henrico County Police and has done so for more than two decades. He served as the 2013 chair for James River Writers, which produces one of the nation’s best annual conferences for educating and connecting writers.

He graduated from the University of South Carolina with a degree in Broadcast Journalism in 1995. In the years after, he worked as a TV news producer, first in Columbus, Georgia, and then in Richmond, Virginia, which has become home for Bill & his family.

You can learn more about Bill at his website: www.billblume.net.

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