Archive for the ‘Excerpt’ Category

Origen: A True Story Of Evil

by  Peter Perry and  Kathleen Sumpton

Genre: True – Crime

My Review

I enjoy true crime stories and this is one I wasn’t familiar with. It took place when I was a teenager and you know how they think they’ll live forever.

I went into this thinking it would be about a serial killer and how he committed his murders and was finally caught. It was about that. But, it also delved into the concept of demons and the devil. Whether their existence was real and how those beliefs might have influenced the perpetrator, Origen, was particularly intriguing for me. Several scenes were very impactful and a couple felt a bit too drawn out. All in all, I never wanted to stop reading the book and went on to research this crime on the computer. I’m sure what the witnesses to this evil went through changed them forever.

4 STARS

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Synopsis

Have you ever come face to face with the devil? In a tapestry of sports, business, and dating, there is an evil presence that is not quite visible to anyone: The Bedroom Strangler. A serial killer that scales fifteen storey buildings, enters through the balcony, and stealthily slithers under the bedroom bed, with the sole intent of raping and murdering innocent women in their sleep. He has been classified as the worst serial killer in Ontario history and Canada’s most dangerous criminal ever, operating at the height of London’s 40 year serial killer period, from 1974 – 1978.

The Bedroom Strangler is a member of a gym. It is the same gym the protagonist managed during the 1970’s. Members of the gym trained and worked out together, never knowing their friend’s true nature. In fact, Mike even introduced the killer to a female member friend at a gym party, a woman who lived in the same building as the murderer; a woman who would become his last victim. As a result of unprecedented tactics by police, Mike ends up becoming part of the investigation—but will he be able to stop this evil predator? It took 40 years to write this story and it’s important to remember that this story is being told by someone who was there.

Origen: A True Story of Evil truly began when Mike’s real-life persona, Peter J. Perry, was just 17 years old. At the time, he was just a student of St. Mary’s College in Sault St. Marie who would carry out heated discussions with a priest, Father Lawlor, about the existence of the devil. Father Lawlor tells him that one day he might meet someone so evil, he will surely know the devil exists, and maybe he will do some good by it. And we will. Part of the proceeds of this novel are being contributed to good causes to respect both the victims and Father Lawlor.

The novel’s title reflects a belief about the dynamic forms of energy as Origen believed that demons can take human form and humans can also be demonized. What follows is inspired by true events. All the names of characters have been changed and many of the events happened, although not all.

This painting of the gym scene, the dating scene, the underground fighting martial arts scene, the psychiatric scene, and Origen’s beliefs may cause you to rethink the devil. If you dare to read the contents of this book, you can come to your own conclusion: Is there more to evil than what we think?

Based on an original screenplay by Peter Perry and Geoff Hart.

Property of the Origen Foundation Inc.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Imagine…

 

You are managing a gym after just graduating from university, working very hard with a staff of thirty and creating a positive atmosphere of energy to motivate and keep members physically fit. Your mission is to create goodwill in the community at the same time as being a role model, because you have an athletic gift. You are an international powerlifting champion, undefeated. As a Canadian powerlifting champion, you become a living legend in your community, with people of all walks of life joining your gym simply to be around your positive vibe.

 

But in the midst of this tapestry of sports, business, and dating, there is an evil presence that is not quite visible to anyone: The Bedroom Strangler. A serial killer that scales as high as fifteen story balconies, only to discreetly slither into the unlocked balcony doors of women unbeknownst, with the sole intent to rape and murder. He has been classified as the worst serial killer in Ontario history and Canada’s most dangerous criminal ever. The Bedroom Strangler was a member of the gym I was managing. He trained and worked out with me and other members, unbeknownst to us his true qualities. He socialized with us. In fact, I introduced him to a female member friend of mine at a gym party, who he then murdered. The Bedroom Strangler incidentally lived in the same building as this friend, who was his last victim.

 

As a result of unprecedented tactics by police, I ended up becoming part of the investigation that stopped this evil predator. Over the years, I questioned why I met someone so evil. I questioned God. Eventually, I came to a conclusion by studying the writings of Origen: do we really understand evil? Can evil be much more than a psychiatric disorder?

 

People are very uncomfortable considering other possibilities. Origen believed that demons can take human form and humans can also be demonized. What follows is inspired by true events. All the names of characters have been changed but many of the events happened, although not all. At the conclusion of this painting of the gym scene, the dating scene, the underground fighting martial arts scene, the powerlifting scene, the bodybuilding scene, the psychiatric scene, and the Origen scene, you can come to your own conclusion: Is there more to evil than what we think? How have we grown to understand evil, through both language and symbolism perpetuated by our surroundings? What, even, is time? Who, or what, represents the greatest way to understand and defeat evil? And, most of all… What is the difference between death and evil?

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About the Authors

PETER J. PERRY’S athletic accomplishments include being an eight-time Canadian open powerlifting champion from 1976-1984. He won the North American powerlifting championship in 1979, and dedicated his trophy to the woman he promised he would dedicate it to in this novel, Jessica. Peter was also the U.S. deadlift champion in 1980, International Powerlifting Federation (IPF) World Open fifth place in 1982, World Masters level-one drug-free powerlifting champion in 1991, and three-time Canadian Masters Powerlifting champion in the years 1991, 1992 and 1993. Best gym lifts certified by the IPF judge are: squat at 750 lbs, bench press at 450 lbs and deadlift at 775 lbs at a body weight of 208 lbs. Knee wraps and squat suit plus a lifting belt were the only pieces of equipment used.

Peter founded Peter Perry Insurance Agency LTD in 1978 and is still the operating president. The company is a London-based insurance and investment brokerage specializing in RRSPs, tax-free savings accounts, segregated funds, tax shelters, RRIFs & LIFs, creditor proofing, annuities, educational savings plans, GICs, and Mortgage insurances. Being a certified and award-winning independent brokerage allows Peter to custom-tailor financial portfolios to suit the specific needs of the client and easily make amendments as one journeys through the various stages of their life. Peter’s acclaimed background in health and fitness as a drug-free world & Canadian powerlifting champion makes him particularly mindful of retirement, health and long-term planning and incorporating all aspects of life into the advice he provides his clients. Click here to learn more about Peter’s athletic accomplishments.

Some interesting facts about Peter are that he was born in Toronto but grew up in Sault Ste. Marie. He became a St. Mary’s Knight due to his academics and sports and is a graduate of St. Mary’s College in Sault Ste. Marie. He was the manager of Vic Tanny’s gym from 1974 to 1978 before launching his insurance company and beginning a new career path.

 

KATHLEEN ELIZABETH SUMPTON is an advocate for the arts and often works with languages. With a passion for culture and a focus on communications, she is an Author. Poet, and Communications Professional with a primary focus on writing. She has a working background in fourteen different languages.

Her five-year plan is to secure two master’s degrees in English and business, followed by a PhD in English, while running her freelance business.

Her 10-year goal is to publish novels and other works in the genre of satire in order to strengthen communications locally and globally by discussing the proper use of language and terminology.

Her work brings awareness to large societal issues such as the criminal justice system, substance abuse, and mental health, a variety of topics everyone else is too afraid to talk about.

As a representative for members of the community as well as for her own projects, Kathleen hopes to enrich her surroundings with both the beauty and power writing holds. It is now her personal mission in life to provide meaning and entice insight through literature. When she is not busy with her work, you can find Kathleen enjoying the outdoors or spending time with family. Favourite hobbies are working out and people-watching. She operates out of Southern Ontario.

 

CONNECT WITH ORIGEN

Website / Peter Perry – Goodreads  / Goodreads – Origen

ORIGEN PURCHASE LINKS

Amazon / Amazon CA / Kindle / B&N / Book Depository / Smashwords / Apple

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Welcome to  my stop on the virtual book tour for All Is Set Now organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Jim Cheney will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Don’t forget to enter.

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour and for more chances to win.

All Is Set Anew

by Jim Cheney

Genre: Suspense/ Thriller / Supernatural

Synopsis

A fast-paced examination of loss, survival, and ultimately acceptance of those things we do not understand but must contend with as if our lives depend upon it.

From deep in the rural Tennessee woods, two brothers flee their murderous father only to find that a violent, supernatural force has followed their escape and will haunt their family for multiple generations.

All Is Set Anew is the story of abandonment and its subsequent revenge, set against a backdrop of characters imprisoned by poverty and self-doubt and their struggle to outrun the evil and illness that relentlessly pursues them.

 

Check out this peek inside:

That afternoon Mary found Edgar at the hog pens and she told him that she wanted to speak with him after supper. She spent the rest of the day packing suitcases for her husband and tidying things around the house. LoLo moved about the rooms silently and Mary worried that her decision was poorly chosen each time the woman’s eyes met hers. It was not a critical exchange of glance, but the way that LoLo diverted her eyes too quickly gave Mary a sinking sensation that made her want to ask her what she would do if the decision was hers. Mary’s upbringing had been as pragmatic as it was cultured, so she looked to facts when challenged. They had let a man like Hicks onto the place. Logic told her that he had raped Katherine, although she could not prove it. Her daughter Renee had left with him, although she could not prove that either. Katherine was alive, and while traumatized, Mary believed that she could guide her back to health. If it got out that Katherine had been raped by a man that Renee had run off with, the impact to the family and its reputation would be devastating. And when she imagined her husband’s reaction to any of this, she felt as helpless as someone looking out over an arid field, begging the merciless, baking sky for relief. Katherine will recover, she told herself. She has enough of me in her that she’ll find her way through.

About the Author:

Jim Cheney was raised in North Georgia and has written professionally for more than 25 years. He has been published in media outlets throughout the United States. This is his first novel. He lives in Franklin, Tennessee with his wife, two boys and three dogs.

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Buy Links: Amazon / B&N

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What Happens in Denver

by Liz Crowe

Genre: Humorous Contemporary Romance

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Meet Andi Rigby. She and her husband own a famous bar. Andi can mix a cocktail, change a beer keg, soothe ruffled customers, and drink you under the table. Life is good until the day she finds herself divorced and unemployed. After a suitable period of ice-cream and whiskey infused mourning, she heads to a beer conference in Denver on a mission to rediscover her joy and find a new job.

Between fielding gossip, saving a drunk woman from herself, and dodging a hot but ill-advised boozy hookup, the weekend leads to a few surprises. She ends up employed with an unexpected bonus—a new friend. Oh, and the guy she kissed? Turns out her new job includes selling his brewery’s beer. No big deal. Except the bit about him being practically perfect for her at a moment she’s determined to focus on her own success.

A story of new friends, fresh starts, and a side order of romance served up with a nice cold pint.

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Add to Goodreads

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While delivering a mental lecture about this being not my business and I needed to get some sleep anyway, I saw his lips move but couldn’t hear a damn thing over the din of the place. When his female companion jumped up and threw her napkin down on the table, she almost plowed backward right into me. She wobbled on her teetering high heels, then lurched away and straight into a waiter, whose tray was loaded with salads heavy on kale and entrees heavy on marrow.

I reached out and caught her arm. She was blotto, that much was clear at this close distance. Little Burke Brother—Michael, I recalled—stayed seated, his expression blank during this whole exercise.

Jerk.

A bizarre surge of protectiveness came over me. I took her arm and guided her down the steps. Once we hit the fresh air, she revived enough to peel away from me, drop to her hands and knees, and puke on the sidewalk.

As I held her hair back like some kind of sorority sister, the substantial foot traffic gave us a wide berth, most of them without comment. It was Craft Beer Convention time in Denver. Puking humans were more common than weed stores, at least for a day or two.

While I waited for her to wrap up her worship at the cement altar, I summoned a ride on my phone app, realizing too late I had no idea where she was staying. She probably had a two-star room with a DNA soaked bed and a lovely view of the dumpster, like me. I got a warm, sisterly feeling about her.

I waited while she spit, then rose to her feet.

“Take those off already,” I said, pointing to the black patent leather heels. She did. Her eyes rolled around in their sockets. Her lollipop of a head didn’t want to stay upright. I plunked us down on a conveniently placed sidewalk bench—gotta love Denver—and waited, not sure which would come first, the ride or the second round of the happy hurls.

Luckily, it was the ride.

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Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville living in Central Illinois. She’s spent her time as a three-continent expat trailing spouse, mom of three, real estate agent, brewery owner and bar manager, and is currently a social media consultant and humane society development director, in addition to being an award-winning author. With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, inside fictional television stations and successful real estate offices, and even in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are compelling and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, at times frustrate, and always linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

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Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * TikTok * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Reel To Reel organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Isla Grey will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.  Don’t forget to enter.

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

Reel To Reel

by Isla Grey

Reel to Reel: Movie Mistakes from Hollywood's Favorite Films by [Isla Grey]

Synopsis

Lights, Camera, Action! From the very beginning, the world of cinema has captivated us. We have found ourselves laughing at our favorite comedies, crying when love finally comes to fruition, being beamed to other worlds or battling in the midst of action sequences. While movies might be the perfect entertainment, most have slight imperfections, mistakes, which go unseen, until they’re released and caught by the movie audience. These mistakes don’t detract from the film, and finding them are just as fun as watching the movie. For the past several years, Isla Grey has written a “Movie Mistakes” column for Bellaonline. “Reel to Reel” is a collection of some of those columns, spotlighting the fun goofs found in some of our favorite movies. Can you spot them? Grab the popcorn, sit back, and happy movie watching!

 Enjoy this peek inside

The Notebook

There’s no question–Noah and Allie are in love. Set in two different time periods, the beginning of the pair’s relationship is shown via a notebook an older Noah reads to Allie who is suffering the effects of dementia. Can true love ever be forgotten? Here are a few movie mistakes to look for while watching “The Notebook”.

Near the beginning of the movie, the younger Allie and Noah are at a carnival. After their first encounter, Allie and another man get on the Ferris wheel. The man is holding cotton candy in his right hand. This is noticeable throughout the scene. After Noah has climbed aboard and gets Allie to go out with him, the cotton candy the man was holding is now gone.

After Noah and Allie have watched the movie in the theater, they decide to go for a walk. When they get to the traffic light, Noah tells her how he used to lie in the road and demonstrates for her. At first, Noah is closer to the center of the lane to his left. (This is noticeable in the overhead view.) During the close-up, Noah is now closer to the double lines that run down the middle of the road. This happens again when Allie joins him. At first, they are closer to the center of the lane to their left, but the next view shows them near the double lines.

About Author Isla Grey

Isla Grey is from Central Virginia and at an early age developed a love of movies. She shared many Sunday afternoons watching old favorites with her grandmother that included everything from “Gone with the Wind” and “Rio Bravo” to “Titanic” and “The Mummy”. (Her grandmother may or may not have made fun of her when she covered her eyes during “Anaconda”.)

Working as Bellaonline’s Movie Mistakes editor since 2012 has given Isla the opportunity to indulge in two of her passions—movies and writing.

When Isla isn’t writing or watching movies, most of her time is spent with her ever active daughter and her band of cats. She also enjoys good music, reading biographies and ghost stories and taking quiet strolls.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

 

The Scent of Leaves

by Kathryn Trattner

Publication date: January 15th 2021
Genres: Adult, Fairy Tales, Retelling

Synopsis

Janet has always dreamed about leaving her small town behind and starting over somewhere fresh. The only thing keeping her going is a photography obsession and her film camera. For her, life is a series of late nights spent working at a local gas station and days earning a final college credit before graduation. But she’s been putting it off for so long she’s starting to feel like it might not happen.

One night Tom appears, charming and handsome, and going out of his way to get to know her. Suddenly he’s everywhere in her small town, appearing and disappearing at odd moments, creeping in on her days and nights. As they spend time together, Janet falling more under his spell each day, she begins to realize that reality is different around Tom. Small things begin to happen, odd occurrences turning into strange events, as Janet is pulled deeper into the mystery surrounding him.

In this modern retelling of the classic Ballad of Tam Lin the world is brought into sharp focus through the lens of a camera. The line between what is and is not real blurs, nature stealing in around the edges, and Janet comes to understand that there is more at stake than just a broken heart.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Another night came and went, smelling like coffee and glass cleaner as she turned the convenience store over to Gary in early morning. The sun had yet to come up, a thin yellow line growing on the horizon, diffusing, and she eyed it as she walked toward her car, wondering what kind of day it would turn out to be.

“Where will you go now?”

She jumped, turning to see Tom leaning against the building.

“How long have you been here?”

“A minute or two. Ryan dropped me off. I was just behind Gary but didn’t want to come in and give you away. I was worried he’d tell your boss you have company every night.”

“Not every night,” she said, shrugging.

“Close enough.” Tom stepped forward, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, shoulders coming forward. “Where will you go?”

“Home.”

He smiled, “Would you like to do something besides go home?”

She could not help it, she smiled too, a creeping delight curling her toes. “Like what?”

“You drive. I’ll navigate.” He moved to the passenger side of her car, hand on the door, waiting for her.

Janet unlocked the car and got in, aware of him sliding in beside her, taking up more air and space than the little car had to spare. She turned it on and rolled down the windows, shooting him a look before backing out of the space. At the edge of the lot, where the street met the gas station, and all roads led away, she paused, waiting for the first direction.

“Left.”

She put the blinker on and turned.

Tom half turned to her, already smiling. “So, tell me what you want to be when you grow up.”

“What?” She laughed, glancing at him and away. The town rolled by, flat background to his intense stare.

“What’re you going to school for? I don’t think you’ve told me.”

“Graphic design.”

“And photography is part of that?”

“It can be but mostly I just stumbled into it.”

“And you love it?”

She smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

“So what’s your end goal then? In a year where do you want to be?”

“Not here.” The answer came out so fast, she hadn’t thought about it, just opened her mouth and there it was, hard and solid truth.

“This place isn’t so bad,” he said.

“You didn’t grow up here.”

“I think I would have liked it if I had.”

“You say that.”

“No really, I think it would have been nice.”

“Everyone here is still talking about how my mom left. It’s been twenty years and they’re still asking if I miss her. They still ask my dad if he’s heard from her. It’s like it happened yesterday for them, still gossiping about it. They don’t have anything better to do. To be fair though they’re also still talking about the one year the pickles exploded at the state fair.”

“She left?”

“Yep, when I was one.”

“I’m sorry.”

He sounded like he meant it, but she did not look at him, not wanting to see pity in his eyes. She stopped at a four-way intersection, looking each direction. “Which way?”

“Left,” he said without hesitation. He did not tell her where they were going. The sun touched her rear-view mirror, throwing light in her eyes, filling the car with reflections. The seen and unseen, the shadows and light dancing over their faces, hiding expressions and masking fears.

After a pause she asked, “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, in a year where do you want to be?”

“Somewhere with a stage.”

She laughed, “Yeah?”

He nodded. “I grew up in a big town with plays and movies rolling around in my head. I was in all the school plays and a few after high school in local venues. I did performance art in college.”

“You’ve graduated?” she asked.

“No. I’ve got a semester left.”

“Why’d you leave when you were almost finished?” She darted a look at him, watching his face shut down and close up, light shifting over his features.

“I had an offer I couldn’t refuse. It was too good.”

“But it wasn’t?”

He shook his head, turning to look out his window, silence growing between them like lichen, slow and spreading. She drove in it, skin prickling, head buzzing. The sun, though rising, seemed suspended above the horizon and they had crossed the town limits a few miles back. He had chosen farm fields and grassy valleys, open areas, instead of the dark closeness of the trees, the Nantahala National Forest in the other direction. Janet was not sure what else was out here, besides fields and woods, and eventually the next town.

“Here!” Tom shouted, pointing to the right.

“Where?” Janet looked around, fields and low hills rolling past, a few trees but mostly knee-high grass and rocks. But she caught sight of a narrow track leading away from the road, overgrown and faded.

“That dirt track there.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to get my car down that.”

The track was more of a path, overgrown and rutted, twisting out of sight.

“You can park on the verge and we’ll walk.”

She pulled over, checking the mirrors for traffic, the engine ticking as she rolled the car windows back up. The road belonged to them, the countryside full of bird song and morning light. She wished she had brought her camera last night, so she would have it now, so she would be able to capture the physical warmth shimmering and thrown up by the dewy grass. She held her breath for an instant, pulling it all inside, keeping it tight against her heart.

He looked at her, understanding, and the smile he gave her was swift but sweet.

“Come on.”

He swung out of the car and she followed, smoothing her shirt as she got out. She felt tired and greasy, the scent of stale coffee on her skin. In the already hot morning, sweat prickled along her hairline. She wished she had known he would be waiting, that she had worn a less faded work shirt and not the baggy jeans she reserved for days she did not care.

But he had not shown up the night before and she had wondered if she would see him again. Or if he would be gone just as suddenly as he had arrived, and realizing that, knowing it, made her realize she was hoping he would show up.

He took her hand as they left the paved road behind, twining their fingers together, pulling her toward the track with long sure strides.

“I come here a lot,” he said, looking down at her. “It’s quiet. I don’t get a lot of alone time generally.”

“No?”

She realized she did not know very much about him. As much as they had talked and he had talked, there was not much about his current situation that he shared. But she felt like she knew parts of him, accepting his presence beside her, wanting him with her.

A shake of his head, lips twisting into ruefulness.

They came around the curve, around the hill, and Janet stopped.

“I didn’t know this was here.”

Shielded from the road a clear pond sparkled in the hollow between hills. Water lilies floated on the surface, dark green leaves and brilliant white blooms. The grass was greener, the blue morning sky above the pond clearer.

“It’s spring fed. You can see where it bubbles up from the rocks in the deeper parts.”

“How did you find it?”

“Someone showed me. I had the same reaction you did. My mouth fell open and I just stood there.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“So are you.”

He smiled, pleasure pouring from him, washing over her. In that moment she would have jumped off a bridge with him. And with that feeling deep down inside she knew she would have flown.

Then he pulled her, jogging for the water, without pausing. She let herself go, following, until they ran into the pond, fully clothed, shoes and all, between waving blossoms and rippling lily pads. Janet laughed, throwing back her head, the sound of it bouncing back. It was cold and water up past her knees, chasing away the sweat from the hot morning. The sun felt different in the little hollow, like liquid gold, soft against her skin.

He kissed her, quick like a habit she never wanted him to break, the pressure of his mouth there and gone. He took her laugh with him, releasing it with his own, leaving her breathless and aware of their bodies, so close, and the quiet of the hollow around them.

“I think this place is magic,” she said.

“It must be. Give me your hands.”

She did and he held her at arm’s length, their arms stretched taut. “At the count of three fall back.”

“We’ll get soaked.”

“We’re already soaked,” he laughed, squeezing her hands tight. “Ready?”

She shook her head no but said, “Ready.”

“One, two–”

He fell back, away from her, his smiling face falling. She let herself go, surrendering to gravity, feeling weight and then water rushing in, filling ears and nose. The bottom of the pond was sandy beneath her hands, a little rocky, and not at all slimy like other ponds she had jumped into as a kid. She squeezed her eyes tight, holding her breath, floundering up. She wiped water from her eyes, pushed hair out of her face. She gasped and laughed.

Opening her eyes, expecting Tom and not seeing him, she turned, sloshing, searching her surroundings. The water rippled, like a stone had been tossed in, like a grown man had cannon balled into it. She waited, expecting him to pop up, gasping for air, slicking his hair back. Birds trilled, making her realize how quiet the hollow had been since they had first stepped into it. The water continued to ripple and move.

“Tom?”

She turned, scanning, brows coming together. The birdsong grew louder, grating, filling her head like a buzz saw. She sloshed forward, hands in the water, moving as if she could part it, feeling for Tom. It was so clear she could see the sandy bottom, the rocks, the water lilies.

The pond was empty.

 

Author Bio:

Kathryn Trattner has loved fairy tales, folk stories, and mythology all of her life. Her hands down favorites have always been East of the Sun, West of the Moon and the story of Persephone and Hades. When not writing or reading she’s traveling as much as possible and taking thousands of photos that probably won’t get edited later. She lives in Oklahoma with her wonderful partner, two very busy children, one of the friendliest dogs ever, and an extremely grumpy cat who doesn’t like anyone at all.

Want to hear about the latest release? Sign up for my newsletter Magical Mundane Madness at kathryn.substack.com

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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Silent River
by C.M. Weaver
Genre: Psychological Thriller
 
A gripping psychological thriller inspired by true events.
Robert Collins is Portland’s best investigative detective. When the
Stevens family goes missing, he goes to work. As he uncovers clues
the family may have been targeted for a professional hit by organized
crime, it gets personal.
Too personal. Can he face down his inner demons before he loses
himself?
He confronts the mob and police bureaucracy to find the missing family.
Jake, partner and friend, thinks he’s spiraling into obsession, when
Robert’s taken off the case but refuses to give up the investigation.
Can he get past this shameless tragedy and his own past to move on with
his life?
Silent River is a fictionalized version of a real investigation in the late 1950s in
Portland, Oregon, a time when money and power ruled the city. This
story will appeal to fans of true crime and detective fiction alike.
Readers who enjoy Ann Rule, Rex Stout, and Mary Higgins Clark will
love CM Weaver.
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I live and work in the
Pacific Northwest. I’m married and take care of a challenged rescue
dog, Ariel. I love writing, but don’t write in one particular
genre. I do gravitate more to mysteries as I’m always asking “What if?”
 
 
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The Wedding Crasher

A Sam Tate Mystery

by Nikki Stern

On Tour June 1st thru 30th.

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Genre: Mystery Published by: Ruthenia Press Publication Date: May 8, 2019 Number of Pages: 340 ISBN: 978-0-9995487-3-8 Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Synopsis

 

A brunette in a bridal gown turns up in Pickett County, Tennessee, throat slit and ring finger missing. She’s the latest victim of the Wedding Crasher, a serial killer who murders women just weeks before their weddings.

Samantha Tate is Picket County’s yoga-loving, poker-playing new sheriff, a former Nashville homicide detective who struggles with her inner demons. To catch the meticulous murderer, Sam will have to follow her instincts and ignore her worst impulses. Can she stop the Wedding Crasher before another bride-to-be dies?

Read an excerpt:

The dead woman lay in the clearing like a macabre version of Sleeping Beauty. She was dressed in a long-sleeved, high-necked ivory gown, set off by luminescent pearl drop earrings and a matching necklace that almost hid the dried blood around her throat. Her head rested on a satin pillow, her silky walnut hair spread behind her like a fan. The right hand held a bouquet of wilted flowers and rested on her chest underneath the left, absent the fourth finger. The ring finger. Sheriff Sam Tate stood to one side of the grim tableau, arms folded, and took it all in: the victim; the tall white-haired man who knelt by the body; the deputy who walked the scene in throwaway boots, snapping pictures; the pale young man in running gear sitting on a rock, head almost to his knees; the uniformed officer who squatted beside him. Sam had dressed in her standard uniform of pressed black slacks and a spotless white shirt. A shaft of early-morning sun bounced off the polished badge at her left breast pocket. On her right wrist, she wore a utilitarian watch. Three small studs twinkled along one earlobe, her single visible concession to a rebellious streak. She’d pulled her unruly dark locks into a tight braid. Ray-Bans shielded her green eyes, though not the line that formed between her brows. One of the victim’s low-heeled white pumps had dropped off to reveal a slim ankle in hosiery. Stockings, not pantyhose, held up by an old-fashioned garter. Sam didn’t need to look. He’s back, she thought, adding a curse for good measure. *** Excerpt from The Wedding Crasher by Nikki Stern. Copyright 2019 by Nikki Stern. Reproduced with permission from Nikki Stern. All rights reserved.
 

Author Nikki Stern

Nikki Stern

 

Nikki Stern is the author of the inspirational HOPE IN SMALL DOSES, a 2015 Eric Hoffer Montaigne Medal finalist, and the thriller THE FORMER ASSASSIN, a 2018 Kindle Book Review category finalist. Her essays are included in three anthologies and she co-authored the interactive Café Noir murder mystery series, published by Samuel French. Eight of her short stories have been published in various online journals and she was a Mark Twain Royal Nonesuch finalist for her short story “Long Away and Far Ago.” Nikki is a member of Sisters in Crime and Mystery Writers of America.

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Catch Up With Nikki Stern On: nikkistern.com, Goodreads, BookBub, Twitter, & Facebook!

GIVEAWAY

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Nikki Stern. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on June 1, 2019 and runs through July 2, 2019. Void where prohibited.

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Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

Click here to view the The Wedding Crasher by Nikki Stern Participants

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blackwell seize ban

Seize
by Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor
(A Magnus Blackwell Novel, #3)
Published by: Vesuvian Books
Publication date: March 26th 2019
Genres: Adult, Supernatural

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Synopsis

Lexie Arden has a loving husband, a thriving business, and consults with the New Orleans Police Dept on murder cases. Kalfu has given her everything she desires, but challengers to her authority are closing in.

Her dark secret remains hidden from everyone except Magnus. He sees the evil growing stronger, changing her, and hurting her marriage. If Lexie doesn’t rid herself of Kalfu’s influence soon, the consequences will be irreversible.

When she unexpectedly inherits a cottage in the swamp, she uncovers a library of rare books on voodoo. Their spells can reverse the dark lord’s hold and set right the balance between darkness and light. But such magic requires a great sacrifice; one Lexie isn’t willing to make.

With the shadow spirits and raging voodoo gods vying for her attention, Lexie is on the verge of losing everything—her husband, her power, Magnus, and possibly, her life.

The battle for control of the mambo’s soul is about to begin.

Goodreads

Book website

Purchase Links: Amazon / B&N / iBooks

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Check out the excerpt!

The dead were everywhere.
Bathed in late afternoon rays of sunlight, Magnus stood on a patch of land surrounded by algae-covered swamp and cursed. Why had he and Lexie been dragged to the godforsaken hellhole again? The songs of cicadas welcoming the coming twilight played in the background while the black eyes of the dead stared at him from the water.
Scarred, bruised, with fresh gaping wounds, the ghosts of men, women, and children lingered above the water. Some missing limbs and even heads, the apparitions glared at him. He preferred things the way they had been before when he’d depended on Lexie to tell him what the dead wanted. He feared her gift firmly entrenched in his center.
Lexie spoke in hushed tones to Detective Emile Glapion. Emile understood Lexie’s gift having been raised by a voodoo priestess. Several officers from the St. John The Baptist Parish Sheriff’s Department waited around them, peering into the water at the naked victim.
“Otis Landry was a good man.” Emile’s voice carried in the humid, sticky air. “I know how hard this must be for you, but can you think of any reason why anyone would cut up your landlord like that?”
Otis’s bloated corpse had strange symbols carved across his torso and arms. Magnus recognized the geometric shapes and wavy lines of the devouring spell used on Renee. Her murder, as well as others’ in the city covered with the same carvings, remained unsolved. By the rate the bodies were piling up, Magnus doubted the police would ever get a handle on the killings.
He floated closer to Lexie, unseen by the others, eager to eavesdrop on more of her conversation. These days, Magnus found his charge hard to read. It was as if the black inside her blocked him. He used to be able to glean her every thought, sense her feelings, and guess her next move, but now, she was a mystery—much like other women he’d known.
An image of the lovely Frances floated across his mind. But as soon as he pictured her delicate face and honey-blonde hair, he remembered the way she screamed as he pushed her over the cliff behind his family home.
He didn’t like reliving that moment. It was one of many he wished to forget.

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About the authors

blackwell authors

Alexandrea Weis, RN-CS, PhD, is a multi-award-winning author of over twenty-seven novels, a screenwriter, ICU Nurse, and historian who was born and raised in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Having grown up in the motion picture industry as the daughter of a director, she learned to tell stories from a different perspective and began writing at the age of eight. Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her novels, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story moving and memorable. A member of the Horror Writers Association and International Thriller Writers Association, Weis writes mystery, suspense, thrillers, horror, crime fiction, and romance. She lives with her husband and pets in New Orleans where she is a permitted/certified wildlife rehabber with the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries and rescues orphaned and injured animals.
Author links: Website / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram
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Lucas Astor is from New York, has resided in Central America and the Middle East, and traveled through Europe. He lives a very private, virtually reclusive lifestyle, preferring to spend time with a close-knit group of friends than be in the spotlight.

He is an author and poet with a penchant for telling stories that delve into the dark side of the human psyche. He likes to explore the evil that exists, not just in the world, but right next door behind a smiling face.

Photography, making wine, and helping endangered species are just some of his interests. Lucas is an expert archer and enjoys jazz, blues, and classical music.

One of his favorite quotes is:  “It’s better to be silent than be a fool.”  ~Harper Lee (To Kill a Mockingbird)

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Revelations
by Robert Sells
Genre: Science Fiction
 
Aster Worthington spearheads the First Contact Team to unravel a message
from an alien race. “The Lambdons” promise free energy if
humanity builds a few special robots and downloads their message into
a super computer to direct construction of the fusion reactor. An
excited world agrees and builds a massive structure called the Dome
to house the alien enterprise.
Seven years later, there’s no “free energy” and strange things happen
in and around the Dome. Aster and her colleagues mount an expedition
under the protection of Army Rangers to investigate the interior.
Instead of friendly aliens, they discover hordes of deadly
intelligent humanoids with insect-like characteristics.
When the military team is brutally murdered by the Lambdons, the
scientists scatter. It’s soon apparent that the Lambdons intend to
take over the planet using biological warfare. The only hope for
humanity lies with a two-thousand year old scroll hidden by the
church. The question is, can Aster and her team unravel the scroll’s
mystery in time to save the planet?
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revelations excerpt
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While Aster’s body was near collapse, her mind continued its ruminations like a mouse on a treadmill. Fear takes away energy. Interesting. She grunted. Interesting that you still think analytically, you idiot. Her eyes snapped back to the floor. No centipedes. Okay, rest a bit. Don’t exhaust yourself, girl. Aster slid down on the floor again and covered her face with her hands. We never should have entered this damned place. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The Dome had sent them one subtle warning after another and, like so many other clues, they ignored them. Humans, she reflected, were particularly adept at twenty-twenty hindsight. Her eyes snapped open and wide-eyed, searched the area close to her. She scooted back up. Any of those damn centipedes around? None. She was safe. At least from those creepy, crawly things.
Then a clacking sound. Those horrible feet, ending with hooves, not feet, the tapping sound on cement. She let out a gurgle of hysterical laughter. Here come the bad guys again! She pinched herself hard to try to get control and took a shaky breath. Don’t lose it now. You’ve made it this far. She got up and moved lightly along the wall and, at the junction, steered away from the clacks. Don’t know where in hell I am. She hummed lightly under her breath, repeating it several times, then giggled. No, but I do know that I’m in Hell, don’t I? How about that, Daddy? You were right all along. Your scientist daughter is rotting in Hell, just like you said I would.
She walked for about an hour, winding her way through the corridors, hugging a wall and trying not to be seen, carefully stepping over the gray cauliflower-fungi peppering the ground. Always steering away from those clacking sounds. Looking for centipedes and either killing them or walking away from the larger ones. They didn’t seem to have eyes, but somehow the centipedes could detect her. Smell? Sound?
Finally, bowing to her fatigue, Aster Worthington, famed astronomer, sagged down and sat with her knees pulled up to her chest. She just couldn’t go any farther. Exhausted, all she could do was keep watching left and right.
If they came down the corridor, she probably couldn’t outrun them but maybe she might get lucky with a shot. She knew she had to hit the head. Of course, it would help if she knew how to work the damn gun. She fiddled with a latch around the trigger. Was this the safety? Off. On. Off? On? Off? She didn’t know how long she had been playing with the gun when she was jerked out of her reverie by a sound.
Instantly, standing up, her head snapped around toward the corner of the alley, and she tightly gripped her gun. Alert. A new sound. Padding sounds. What the hell was that?
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I attended college at Ohio Wesleyan where I struggled with physics.
Having made so many mistakes in college with physics, there weren’t
too many left to make and I did quite well at graduate school at Purdue.
I worked for nearly twenty years at Choate Rosemary Hall, an exclusive boarding school in
the heart of Connecticut. More often than not, students arrived in
limousines. There was a wooded area by the upper athletic fields
where I would take my children for a walk. There, under a large oak
tree, stories about the elves would be weaved into the surrounding forest.
Returning to my home town to help with a father struggling with Alzheimer’s, the only
job open was at a prison. There I taught an entirely different
clientele whose only interaction with limousines was stealing them. A
year later Alfred State College hired me to teach physics. I happily
taught there for over ten years. A rural, low income high school
needed a physics teacher and the superintendent, a friend, begged me
to help out. So, I am finishing my teaching career in a most
fulfilling way… helping kids who would otherwise not have access to
a qualified physics (and math) teacher.
My wife pestered me about putting to “pen” some of the stories which I had created
for the children and other relatives. I started thinking about a
young boy and a white deer, connected, yet apart. Ideas were shuffled
together, characters created and the result was the Return of the
White Deer. This book was published by the Martin Sisters.
Years ago I gave a lecture on evolution. What, I wondered, would be the next step? Right
away I realized that silicon ‘life’ had considerable advantages
over mortal man. Later this idea emerged as the exciting and
disturbing story called Reap the Whirlwind, my most recent novel.
I have many other stories inside my mind, fermenting, patiently waiting for the pen to
give them breath. Perhaps someday I will even write about those elves
which still inhabit the woods in the heart of Connecticut.
 
 
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basement banner

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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for The Basement organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

I don’t know about you, but the cover art gives me delicious shivers!!!

Dianne Hartsock will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Don’t forget to enter at the bottom of the post

And be sure to click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

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Alex is haunted by visions of the dying, but now it seems the ghosts he’s seeing are real as well.

In this sequel to ALEX and THE SHED, Alex wonders if he’s seeing ghosts. His friend Justin has bought the Fulton place, a beautiful old mansion on the edge of Oakton. But something’s wrong in the house. Alex has visions of a small boy, trapped in the basement, and a man at the top of the stairs who won’t let him leave.

And Logan Fulton has come to town, Helen Kramer’s cousin, a psychic medium who wants something from Helen, whatever the cost. He and Helen had spent time in the Fulton house as children and Alex suspects Logan has something to do with the spirits now awakening in the old mansion. But whether Logan is calling them forth or if something else is controlling them, Alex can’t be sure.

The child’s spirit calls to Alex, as do others trapped in the house. There is a dark entity holding them there, keeping the child forever in the basement, the others for his amusement. But Alex has never believed in ghosts, so what is really going on? As he strives to learn the boy’s secret, his friends are one by one pulled to the Fulton place and put in danger while Logan works against Alex, having an agenda of his own. Will Alex be able to solve the haunting of the old house, or will he and his friends be taken one by one, doomed to walk the dark hallways forever?

 Enjoy this peek inside:

Something tugged his coat sleeve. Startled, he looked down. Nothing. Goddammit.

“Either help me or get away from me,” he muttered, nerves pulled taut. He moved into the room and gasped as the light on the walls disappeared, the candle’s flame the only illumination. It flickered on the surface of the inkblack liquid in the basin, drawing his eye. Without thought, he crossed the room and crouched opposite Logan, but instead of looking into the bowl, he searched the slack continence across from him.

Logan kept his gaze focused on the bowl as if unaware of Christopher’s presence. He appeared pale, hollow-cheeked, haggard, a death mask, and Christopher sucked in a breath.

“Logan? Are you okay?”

No reaction. Logan remained frozen in place. A slow shiver traveled through Christopher. What did he see in those dark depths? The water stirred, radiated outward as if a breath had touched the surface. The candle’s flame flashed, light splintering through the liquid. Christopher bent closer to the bowl. Had something moved in there? He parted his lips on a hiss of dawning horror as eyes, dark as pitch, appeared, the image of a terrible face taking shape.

He pulled away, his limbs unaccountably heavy as he struggled to his feet, the terrible face breaking the surface, continuing upward, a dark figure climbing into the world. The room grew cold, ice forming where the creature stepped out onto the wooden floor. The air seemed sucked from the room. Unable to scream, Christopher stumbled back until he came up against the wall. The specter moved closer, and Christopher’s chest heaved, fear holding him immobile.

About Author Dianne Hartsock

Dianne grew up in one of the older homes in the middle of Los Angeles, a place of hardwood floors and secret closets and back staircases. A house where ghosts lurk in the basement and the faces in the paintings watch you walk up the front stairs. Rooms where you keep the closet doors closed tight at night. It’s where her love of the mysterious and wonderful came from. Dianne is the author of paranormal/suspense, fantasy adventure, m/m romance, the occasional thriller, and anything else that comes to mind.

She now lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. Dianne says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write. There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee in her hands, which kindles her imagination.

Currently, Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.

Blog / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Amazon / Facebook Author Page

Buy Links: Amazon / B&N / Solstice Publishing

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