Archive for the ‘giveaways’ Category

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The Legend of the Dogman

by David C. Posthumus

Genre: Horror, Thriller, Suspense

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Something dark and malevolent stalks the majestic Northwoods of Michigan, and each corpse sends a new wave of terror through the small town of LeRoy. Anthropology professor Jack Allen uncovers a pattern of strange encounters, disappearances, and unsolved murders that shake him to his core. The deeper Jack delves into the horror in the woods, the more his life falls apart around him. With his family and all of Northern Michigan hanging in the balance, Jack must find a way to stop the cycle or risk losing everything to the ultimate predator. Meet a new kind of monster in David C. Posthumus’s bone-chilling suspenseful thriller, The Legend of the Dogman!

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Get it discounted from Timber Ghost Press !

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What are your top 10 favorite books/authors?

When it comes to fiction, I love horror and action and adventure. Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Edgar Allen Poe, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Peter Benchley, Michael Crichton, etc. I read a lot of westerns growing up, like Louis L’Amour, Zane Grey, and Larry McMurtry. I love the classics too, Hesse, Hemingway, Steinbeck, Fitzgerald, Salinger, Orwell, et al. I love Ken Kesey and the whole beat and psychedelic movement. But I also read a lot of nonfiction. I’m somewhat of a history buff, and I’m endlessly fascinated by World War II and Native American history and cultures. I also love reading about classic rock bands like The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Neil Young, etc. and am really interested in religion and the occult or Western esoteric traditions. There are so many similarities when you get down to the bedrock of religious traditions around the world, and that really fascinates me.

 

What book do you think everyone should read?

Man, that’s a really tough one. The Bible? Siddhartha? The Bhagavad Gita? East of Eden? 1984? I guess my grownup self would suggest things that are quite different from my 18-year-old self.

 

How long have you been writing?

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. I guess I really got going on it in first grade. I’d write books about my favorite athletes, and I’d also do these movie adaptations. Then I started writing about cops and robbers. Then I started writing my own Indiana Jones stories. Then later I started writing horror fiction. I wrote fiction from about first grade through early high school. I remember in seventh grade English class I was writing a western novel about a gunslinger based on Doc Holliday. As I’d finish each chapter, the other kids in the class would pass the manuscript around and read it, like a serial or something. That was really cool. Then in college I started writing more nonfiction, things for school, history, anthropology, etc., and I didn’t really come back to writing fiction until quite recently. I am also a songwriter and have been doing that off and on since I was in fourth or fifth grade.

 

Do the characters all come to you at the same time or do some of them come to you as you write?

Both. I usually have some idea of who my characters are, but then they develop as the writing and the story progress and take on a mind of their own. They dictate a lot of the plot, and I’m always learning new things about my characters. They keep me on my toes. I uncover their true selves a little at a time, like an archaeologist excavating an ancient site or something.

 

What kind of research do you do before you begin writing a book?

Usually it’s pretty minimal. I try to write about what I know and am passionate about. I do some research as I go, but usually not a whole lot up front. I start with what-if scenarios and try to let the story grow and unfold as organically as possible.

 

Do you see writing as a career?

Unfortunately, I guess not. I wish it was my career, and that’d be a dream come true, but right now it’s not paying the bills. Ha! So, I guess I see writing as a hobby, a passion, something that I love and need to do. But not a career. I feel like a career has to be a job that produces enough money for you and your family to live on, and so far writing hasn’t done that for me. But I have a deep drive and need to express myself creatively in one form or another, whether it’s music or writing or whatever. It’s very cathartic and therapeutic for me. It’s often how I work things out and feel. It’s also something I really love doing and have always loved doing, so it’s a very deep, essential part of me, very central to who I am.

 

What do you think about the current publishing market?

Well, I don’t know a whole lot about it, but it seems pretty tough. It’s kind of strange, there are so many smaller presses out there now and new ways to get your work in print, and yet it’s still extremely hard to get published (outside of self-publishing) and even harder to find an agent to represent you and help you succeed in the industry. It seems like a needle in a haystack scenario. Those agents must have very specific ideas about exactly who and what they want in their clientele. They have a lot of power as gatekeepers. I think I got really lucky finding Cody and Timber Ghost Press, and they’ve been a dream to work with.

 

Do you read yourself and if so what is your favorite genre?

Of course I read! I’ve always been an avid and voracious reader of many genres, both fiction and nonfiction. I like horror, thriller/suspense, action/adventure, sci-fi, fantasy, you name it. I also love history, anthropology, and religious studies, and I’m a real sucker for rock and roll biographies and memoirs.

 

Do you prefer to write in silence or with noise? Why?

In silence. That way I can hear my train of thought a comin’. I’ve always found it easier to tap into my subconscious in a quiet room with few distractions and the door closed. Everything just seems to flow better for me that way. It evokes (or invokes?) my muse and stimulates my creativity and imagination.

 

Do you write one book at a time or do you have several going at a time?

One at a time. Serious writing projects take over my life, so I can only handle one at a time. It’s kind of like a marriage or having a kid you have to tend to. Hahaha.

 

If you could have been the author of any book ever written, which book would you choose?

The Bible. It’s been a bestseller for quite some time now.

 

Pen or type writer or computer?

Computer. Sometimes I’ll take notes or do some outlining on a pad of paper, but when it comes time to get down to business, it’s computer all the way.

 

Tell us about a favorite character from a book.

I really like Gandalf. That guy is the shit. I wish I could do all that magical stuff like he does. Aragorn is pretty cool too. Hermann Hesse’s characters in Demian and Narcissus and Goldmund are great. I also love every character in The Losers’ Club from IT. It’s hard not to love them. They all seem very familiar, too, like they’re all based on people you know or even yourself. Robert Jordan in For Whom the Bell Tolls is also a great character. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are also wonderful.

 

What made you want to become an author and do you feel it was the right decision?

I always liked expressing myself with the written or spoken (or sung) word. So, I guess there was no decision there. It’s just a part of who I am. It’s something that I naturally do. I have no choice! I’m a prisoner to the word!

 

Advice they would give new authors?

Writing is good for the soul.

 

Describe your writing style.

It’s like how Led Zeppelin played live: tight but loose. When I’m working on a novel, I’m very disciplined about getting a set number of words down each day. But at the same time, I’m very loose or freeform, almost like stream of consciousness. I hardly ever plot things out in much detail, I unleash my subconscious mind and let it roam freely, and I let my characters dictate a lot of the story.

 

What makes a good story?

Tension, emotion, good and evil, some likeable characters and others you love to hate or are terrified of, some lofty principles or values maybe. A good story has to be able to transport you out of your mundane life or headspace and into another dimension, into the world of the story, where things are fresh and exciting and the stakes are really high.

 

What are they currently reading?

Bob Spitz’s new Led Zeppelin biography.

 

What is your writing process? For instance do you do an outline first? Do you do the chapters first? 

I usually start with a what-if scenario. I have a Google doc full of basic what-if scenarios that are the little seeds of my writing projects, like little story larvae. They’re just the weird good ideas that come to all of us randomly that we usually neglect to write down and forget. Then once I have the what-if scenario, I’ll think through a rough plot outline sometimes, and there have to be characters involved to do that, but then I just like to get going and see where the characters and story take me. I find that the best and most original plot twists come out of the blue when you least expect them when you’re fully immersed in the process and living in the world of the story. They just hit you in the shower or when you’re walking the dog, and you’re like, “YESSSSSSS! That’s perfect!” It’s really quite magical in every sense of the term.

 

What are common traps for aspiring writers?

Worrying too much about plot. Being afraid to start. Losing steam and not being able to follow through and finish. General insecurity about writing or being able to tell a good story. Second-guessing yourself.

 

What is your writing Kryptonite?

Distractions of any kind.

 

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

I guess I try to be more original, because I let the story flow and mutate on its own as much as possible. But at the same time, I think I’m still able to deliver the goods in terms of what readers want, and there are some good innovative twists on some classic horror tropes.

 

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

Try to make a career out of writing right away, in your teens or twenties. Don’t wait.

 

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

It depends on how dedicated I am to it. Sometimes two or three months to write a good first draft. Other times I start and stop and take weeks or months or even years off. Then it could take a good long while. But when I’m really in the zone and being really good and disciplined about it, it usually takes two to three months. And those tend to be the best projects.

 

Do you believe in writer’s block?

No. I have no reason to so far. *Knocks on wood*

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David C. Posthumus began his writing career at age six, when his grandfather read one of his first-grade publications and labeled him “Ernie (Hemingway) Jr.” Posthumus is a voracious reader of many genres, fiction and nonfiction, and an avid horror fan and fiction writer. He has published extensively in the fields of anthropology and Native American studies, including one published book (All My Relatives: Exploring Lakota Ontology, Belief, and Ritual, University of Nebraska Press, 2018), one book forthcoming (Lakota: Culture, History, and Modernities, University of Oklahoma Press, 2022), as well as several journal articles, book chapters, and reviews. Aside from having the perfect surname for horror, Posthumus loves dogs, the great outdoors, and is also a musician and lifelong music lover.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

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For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

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Pay or Play by Howard Michael Gould Banner

Pay or Play

by Howard Michael Gould

January 1-31, 2022 Virtual Book Tour

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Pay or Play by Howard Michael Gould

Synopsis:
 
Blackmail, sexual harassment, murder . . . and a missing dog: eccentric, eco-obsessed LA private eye Charlie Waldo is on the case in this quirky, fast-paced mystery.

Paying a harsh self-imposed penance for a terrible misstep on a case, former LAPD superstar detective Charlie Waldo lives a life of punishing minimalism deep within the woods, making a near religion of his commitment to owning no more than One Hundred Things. At least, he’s trying to. His PI girlfriend Lorena keeps drawing him back to civilization – even though every time he compromises on his principles, something goes wrong. And unfortunately for Waldo, all roads lead straight back to LA. When old adversary Don Q strongarms him into investigating the seemingly mundane death of a vagrant, Lorena agrees he can work under her PI license on one condition: he help with a high-maintenance celebrity client, wildly popular courtroom TV star Judge Ida Mudge, whose new mega-deal makes her a perfect target for blackmail.

Reopening the coldest of cases, a decades-old fraternity death, Waldo begins to wonder if the judge is, in fact, a murderer – and if he’ll stay alive long enough to find out.

Pay or Play is the third in the Charlie Waldo series, following Last Looks and Below the Line. Last Looks was turned into a major motion picture, starring Charlie Hunnam as the offbeat private investigator.

 

Genre: Thriller, Private Detective

Published by: Severn House Publishers Limited Publication Date: December 7th 2021 Number of Pages: 224 ISBN: 0727850857 (ISBN13: 9780727850850) Series: Charlie Waldo, #3

Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Enjoy this peek inside:

ONE

It wasn’t the sex that set Waldo’s woods on fire, it was the afterglow. Surrounded by forest, nearly all its structures made of wood, his mountain town of Idyllwild had already seen five homes destroyed, the remainder evacuated. Route 243 was closed on both sides, leaving Waldo and all the other residents cut off and fearing the worst. As the record temperatures of summer 2018 scorched California, infernos blossomed up and down the state. Six people were dead in the one up north, the one called the Carr. Watching clips of his wildfire, the Cranston, from a hundred miles away and the safety of Lorena’s house, Waldo knew it would take a miracle to keep the rest of Idyllwild from being consumed. He didn’t know whether his own cabin was already lost. He didn’t know if his chickens were still alive. What he did know was this: the conflagration was all his fault. Not literally, of course. It wasn’t like he’d lit the match. And he hadn’t set the tinderbox. The planet was rebelling. Climate change had made this fire season hotter and drier. Forest-management practices left more fuel on the ground, too, the unintended reper¬cussion of conscientious wildlife protection. Those were the reasons Waldo’s mountain was burning. Those and, according to the news, arson. But Waldo knew better. Call it karma, call it moral justice – Waldo knew his own wobbling had something to do with it, too. Four years earlier, Waldo learned in an instant the precariousness of the world, the damage one man could do, the damage he could do, when his own zealous police work had led to the death of an innocent man. His life since had been a daily struggle not to do any more. He had resigned from the force, ghosted his girlfriend Lorena and everyone else he knew, and bought twelve acres in Idyllwild, in the San Jacinto mountains, where he lived for three solitary years in self-sustaining austerity, making a near religion of his commitment to a zero-carbon footprint and to owning no more than One Hundred Things. And that worked for him, at least until Lorena showed up and triggered the chain of events which drew him away from his refuge and back into civilization. She’d hoped to coax him into joining her expanding PI business, and back into their relationship, too. The latter took; the former, not so much. He did work one case with her, a missing-persons that turned rancid and left Waldo with no taste for more. She eventually stopped trying and seemed to accept the relationship as it was. He’d come down the mountain for a visit about once a month, usually for a few days when Willem – the male model she’d married during Waldo’s absence, estranged now but still her housemate – was out of town on a shoot. It was a delicate equilibrium: less than Lorena wanted, but enough; a constant test of Waldo’s punishing minimalism, but within bounds he could handle. Then Willem, wanting to cash in on the overheated L.A. real estate market, insisted that Lorena agree to sell their jointly owned Koreatown bungalow as a final condition of their divorce. He moved out the day the papers were signed. The next time Waldo came to visit, the common spaces looked barren, Willem apparently the owner of most of their thousands of Things, including almost all the furniture. Lorena looked lost in the empty house. That plucked at Waldo in ways he didn’t expect, and he ended up staying in town longer than he ever had before, almost two weeks. One night, after love-making fierce and profound even by their standards, Lorena said, ‘What if we got a place together?’ In a sense, it was reasonable to muse on. In another, it was absurd. How could that work? In L.A., just as in Idyllwild, Waldo maintained his exacting rules for living, not allowing himself even an extra toothbrush to leave at her place. Meanwhile, in the face of his asceticism, Lorena clung to her consumerist pleasures all the harder. So, did she mean for him to give up his cabin, and to battle out all their joint decisions, item by item, precept by precept? Or did she mean for him to keep his cabin, and cohabit a second home, profligate beyond imagining? That these questions were even on the table was a sign that Waldo had gotten too comfortable here. His heart starting to race, he silently recited his catechism, the covenant with the world which he’d devised and repeated aloud regularly for his first few months alone on his mountain until it had become ingrained: Don’t want, don’t acquire, don’t require. Don’t affect. Don’t hurt. The answer was not complicated. It was not ambiguous. He needed to hold fast. Every time he hadn’t, every time he let his resolve slip, every time he compromised the principles which had redeemed him, something had gone wrong. And this compromise would be bigger than anything Waldo had ever contemplated, the consequences surely bigger, too. He had to say no. Of course he had to say no. He looked over at Lorena, her eyes closed, her lip curled in a gentle smile, and before he knew it he too was lost in the after¬glow. That ruinous afterglow. And what Waldo said was: ‘Maybe.’ By the next afternoon, his mountain was in flames. Four days later, alone in Lorena’s barren kitchen, Waldo scoured the internet for any morsel of new information. Evacuated – what did that actually mean? Had anyone remained to support the fire-fighters, or was it a ghost town? Not that he knew any of his fellow denizens anyway, even after four years, other than his batty neighbor Hilda Flitt, who kept an eye on his chickens when he was away. And Hilda wasn’t answering her phone. Nor was Lorena, for that matter. He shot her another text and went back to surfing. Surfing and blaming himself for the fire. Not that he could talk about his guilt with Lorena. She’d already said something about him ‘getting worse’ and one time (at a downtown Szechuan restaurant, after he questioned the waiter as to why a restaurant that puts Environment Friendly! on the menu still tops the meal with plastic-wrapped fortune cookies), even asked whether he ‘ever thought about talking to somebody.’ Sure, why wouldn’t she want that? It’d be so much easier to have that ‘somebody’ browbeat Waldo into complaisance than to develop some environmentally responsible habits herself. Maybe, though, this was what ‘getting worse’ looked like. Holding to rules was one thing, magical thinking another entirely, and after all, it was the guy with the barbecue lighter and the WD-40 who’d set the mountain ablaze, not Waldo. Still. It all happened just hours after Waldo’s maybe, and it was Waldo’s town about to be devoured, and Detective III Charlie Waldo had never believed in coincidences. As the day wore on, the news from Idyllwild began to improve. Firefighters, dropping retardant from the sky, managed to cut the inferno just before it reached the Arts Academy, and suddenly they were using the words ‘mostly contained.’ Deep into the night, Hilda Flitt still wasn’t answering her phone. But the authorities had reopened 243, so Waldo could go back in the morning to see for himself whether his home was safe, whether he even had any Things left, save the ones on his back. Waldo waited up for Lorena like he always did. He sprawled on her bed with his Kindle, chipping away at Richard White’s massive history of the late nineteenth-century United States, specifically a grim chapter about how American ‘progress’ killed off the bison and pushed the Native Americans to the reservations. Even though Waldo enjoyed the book greatly – it filled multiple lacunae in his knowledge and was peculiarly relevant to the U.S. in 2018 – tonight he struggled not to put it down. What he itched to do instead was stream another episode of his new addiction, the sinfully titillating Judge Ida Mudge, which Lorena had told him about just this week and which instantly wormed its way into Waldo’s limbic system like none of his favorite junk television shows ever had, not even prime MTV Cribs. But he’d already watched two, using up the daily hour he allowed himself. Waldo pushed to the end of the chapter and checked Lorena’s bedside clock. It was past midnight, later than he ever stayed up in his woods. Was his junk TV ‘day’ defined by his sleep schedule, or by the clock? That is, could he allow himself to watch ‘tomorrow’s’ Judge Idas now? If he was going to spend much of the next day traveling, he might not have time to watch anyway – so why not allow himself a smidgen of ethical squinching and stream an episode? Or two. The sound of Lorena’s key in the door saved him from the lapse. He went out to meet her in the living room. ‘Sorry I didn’t answer your texts,’ she said. ‘I got caught up with something.’ Her vagueness didn’t throw Waldo like it would have during the jealous years. She added, ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ He shrugged, You don’t have to. Apparently she did, though. ‘Something with an op. I had to take over a tail.’ ‘Fat Dave?’ Lorena had three part-time operatives, two LAPD washouts and a wannabe. She swore they carried their weight but he found that hard to believe. Fat Dave Greenberg, whose rep as a world-class douchebag radiated far beyond Foothill Division, was the worst of them, as far as Waldo was concerned. She repeated, ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ and Waldo repeated his you don’t have to shrug, but again she did. ‘Reddix,’ she said. Lucian Reddix was a young African American, the only one Waldo didn’t know from the force and the one for whom Lorena had the softest spot. ‘He was on a marital tail, followed the subject into a bar. Caught her with her boyfriend, was starting to shoot them on his phone . . . but the bartender came over and he asked for a beer.’ ‘So?’ ‘So they carded him. He’s not twenty-one until November.’ And this was her star. ‘It turned into a thing. Kid was sure he was made. Don’t say it.’ Waldo didn’t have to; he’d said plenty in the past. These jokers were one more reason not to enmesh himself in Lorena’s business. ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘I went over and picked it up for him.’ ‘Get what you need?’ ‘And then some. Too cheap for a motel, these two. Got it on right in his car. Anyway, I wasn’t checking my texts – sorry. Listen,’ she said, changing the subject, ‘I could use a favor.’ He tensed; something in her voice told him it had to do with work. ‘Yeah?’ ‘I’ve got a meeting with a prospective in a couple days. It’d help to have you there.’ It was the first time in half a year she’d tried to coax him onto a case. ‘I’m pretty sure you’d like this one.’ He’d heard that before. Waldo said, ‘243’s open.’ ‘Oh. Fire’s out?’ ‘Contained enough, I guess. I’ve got to get up there.’ She drew a breath at the rejection. It had cost her something to ask again. ‘How?’ she said. ‘Not on your bike . . .?’ Since Waldo basically restricted himself to transportation that was either public or self-propelled, each trip from L.A. to Idyllwild meant a bus and then a tortuous, torturous bicycle climb. She said, ‘I could drive you.’ And then, she was no doubt thinking, she could drive him back down, once he was assured that his property was all right. Back to L.A. and her prospective client meeting. Back to L.A. and looking for a place for them to share. He couldn’t do it. Besides, he had long ago decided that he’d grant himself a waiver to ride in a private automobile only with someone who’d already have been making the drive without him; clearly that didn’t apply here. He said, ‘I’ll be fine.’ ‘With the smoke and everything? That’s so not healthy.’ She was probably right, but he tipped a shoulder anyway, a second rejection. ‘Waldo . . .’ ‘I’ll be careful.’ Waldo knew he should hit her with a third, to rip off the Band-Aid quickly and tell her straight out that he wasn’t going to move in with her. But she stopped him cold with the lopsided quarter-grin that grabbed him every time. ‘Last night in town is usually pretty good,’ she said, and headed to the bedroom, grazing the back of his neck with her fingertips as she passed. He heard her start the shower. He knew he wouldn’t be able to tell her tonight. Not even if that meant the winds would pick up, the fire would jump the retardant line, and his woods would be imperiled all over again. Maybe this time it would be the sex that burned it all down. *** Excerpt from Pay or Play by Howard Michael Gould. Copyright 2021 by Howard Michael Gould. Reproduced with permission from Howard Michael Gould. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Howard Michael Gould:
Howard Michael Gould

Howard Michael Gould graduated from Amherst College and spent five years working on Madison Avenue, winning three Clios and numerous other awards. In television, he was executive producer and head writer of CYBILL when it won the Golden Globe for Best Comedy Series, and held the same positions on THE JEFF FOXWORTHY SHOW and INSTANT MOM. Other TV credits include FM and HOME IMPROVEMENT. He wrote and directed the feature film THE SIX WIVES OF HENRY LEFAY, starring Tim Allen, Elisha Cuthbert, Andie MacDowell and Jenna Elfman. Other feature credits include MR. 3000 and SHREK THE THIRD.

His play DIVA premiered at the Williamstown Theatre Festival and La Jolla Playhouse, and was subsequently published by Samuel French and performed around the country.

He is the author of three mystery novels featuring the minimalist detective Charlie Waldo: LAST LOOKS (2018) and BELOW THE LINE (2019), both nominated for Shamus Awards by the Private Eye Writers of America, and PAY OR PLAY (2021). The feature film version of LAST LOOKS, starring Charlie Hunnam and Mel Gibson and directed by Tim Kirkby, will premiere February, 2022; Gould also wrote the screenplay.

Catch Up With Howard Michael Gould: HowardMichaelGould.com Goodreads BookBub Instagram – @howardmichaelgould Twitter – @HowardMGould Facebook – @HowardMGould

 

 

GIVEAWAY
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Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

 

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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 Through The Fairy Ring organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Melissa McTernan will award a $10 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. In addition the author is running an additional giveaway to celebrate this cover reveal. Don’t forget to enter.

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

Through The Fairy Ring

by  Melissa McTernan

Genre: Paranormal / Romance

Synopsis

Alice’s life is falling apart. Her boyfriend cheated on her, she lost her job, and she managed to get herself lost on an ill-fated hiking trip. When she passes out in a small clearing in the woods she never imagined she would wake up in a new world; a world with beautiful people, amazing sights, and a sexy Fae stranger.

Wren is not accustomed to wanting. He has everything he needs: good friends, good food, good sex. And he has had it for decades. He’s forgotten what it is to want something, to need something beyond reason. He had forgotten, but when he meets Alice, the feeling creeps back in. He wants Alice and he can’t have her. And it hurts.

Can people from two different worlds figure out a way to be together, or will they be forced to live apart?

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Check out this peek inside:

“It’s time, love.”

Alice nodded and stepped away from his touch. She placed one foot, then the next inside the circle, and stood to face him. He watched her with shadowed eyes as she brought the vial to her lips. The glass was cool to her inflamed flesh.

“Alice, wait.” The words burst from his mouth as though he couldn’t hold them back.

She froze.

“I would give it all up for you.”

She nearly choked, nearly ran from the circle, and flung her arms around him. Her heart clamored inside her chest. Her lungs squeezed tight, suffocating her. Wren waited, beautiful in the sunlight, the same bronzed man she met in the woods weeks ago. He belonged here with flowers in his hair. She couldn’t take him from this place.

“I would never ask you to.” She brought the vial to her lips and drank down the liquid in one swallow. The last thing she saw was Wren on his knees in the grass in front of her, his head bowed to the earth.

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About Author Melissa McTernan

Melissa McTernan writes paranormal, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is the author of two paranormal romance novellas Missing Maren and Through the Fairy Ring, and a contemporary holiday romance, Secret Family Recipes for Love and Butter Cookies. When she’s not writing, she’s most likely reading or wrangling her kids as a stay-at-home mom. She lives in upstate New York with her husband, kids, cats, puppy and full bookshelves. She writes romance to keep her sanity.

 

Follow her on twitter, Instagram, and Goodreads all @melissamcternan or check out her website for the latest updates! https://www.melissamct.com/

Purchase Link: Amazon

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GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter 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 Their New Year’s Beginning organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Michelle Major will be awarding a $20 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 more chances to win.

Their New Year’s Beginning

by Michelle Major

Synopsis

At the stroke of midnight, a stranger’s kiss changes everything…

Brian Fortune doesn’t think he will ever find the woman he kissed at his brother’s New Year’s wedding. So when the search for the provenance of a mysterious gift leads him into a local antique store a few days later, he’s stunned to find Emmaline Lewis, proprietor—and mystery kisser! Surprise turns to shock when he realizes that she’s also six months pregnant. Brian has never been the type to commit—and he’s really not ready to become a family man in one fell swoop! But suddenly he knows he’ll do anything to stay at Emmaline’s side—for good…

 

Enjoy this peek inside:

“May I kiss you, Emmaline?”

Welp. There it was. He was actually asking her permission. As if Emmaline could be more taken with him, his quiet question pushed her over the edge of reason.

She was smitten. The kind of enamored that had her wondering if he might be able to hear her heart pounding against her rib cage. As if her anticipation was a palpable thing.

After a moment, she nodded, not trusting her voice.

Brian’s warm hands lifted to her face, and he cupped her cheeks as if she were precious to him. She felt precious.

He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, featherlight and controlled. Her body erupted in goosebumps and she let out a tiny moan, both in satisfaction and frustration. She reveled in the sensations swirling through her and, at the same time, wanted more.

Brian must have heard the sound—another tally in her list of embarrassments for this night—but he didn’t seem to find anything wrong with it.

In fact, it seemed to spur him on. The kiss turned deeper as he shifted both of them into a nearby alcove so she couldn’t be seen by the crowd.

He continued to cup her cheeks, the softness of his touch in sharp contrast to the hard planes of the chest she could feel under her hands. But when he lowered one hand to the small of her back to pull her closer, Emmaline wrenched away.

She could not allow herself to be pressed up against him. Not now. Not without revealing…too much.

He looked as dazed as she felt as he stared at her.

“I have to go,” she whispered, more to herself than him.

Before he could answer, she turned and ran away.

About Author Michelle Major:

: USA Today bestselling author Michelle Major loves stories of new beginnings, second chances and always a happily ever after. An avid hiker and avoider of housework, she lives in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains with her husband, two teenagers, and a menagerie of spoiled furbabies. Connect with her at www.michellemajor.com.

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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Mirrors And Mysteries organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Christina Bauer will award a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. In addition the author is running an additional giveaway to celebrate this cover reveal. Don’t forget to enter.

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

Rapunzel meets Jane Eyre in the epic conclusion of this fairy tale romance!

Grayson Eyre has left her old life behind. She’s no longer stuck serving Lady R, a sadistic Rapunzel from the Lowood clan of elves. Instead, Grayson now teaches at the Thornfield home for shifter orphans. Even better, her boss is none other than the sexy alpha, Dex. It’s all good until a mysterious witch, Jocasta, appears in a nearby tower, demanding that Dex and Grayson discover the true nature of all Rapunzels. If not, Lady R will return to claim Grayson… and Thornfield will be wiped out by the evil Prism Master. Can Dex and Grayson discover the truth in time? And what will it mean for their growing attraction?

Secrets are revealed and feelings explored in this epic conclusion to the story of Dex and Grayson!

Enjoy this peek inside TOWERS AND TITHES:

Grayson

My escape spell dropped me off on a random floor somewhere. Literally. Talk about awkward. For a moment, all I can focus on is the literal pain in my butt.

“Okay, that hurt,” I murmur.

“Grayson!” Oh, no. That’s the Prism Master.

The mirror dropped me off at the Refraction palace. As in, the one place I did not want to visit.

Rising, I slap on a smile. It’s never worked on the Prism Master before, but it’s not like there are a ton of options here. “I bet you’re wondering how I escaped. You see—”

A shiver runs up my back. It’s so intense, I forget what I was about to say.

What’s happening?

Suddenly, all my nerve endings go on alert. No doubt about it. Someone’s behind me. Inch by inch, I turn around. And there, I see a man.

Not just any man, mind you. He’s the one I’ve daydreamed about. Everything’s perfect, from his strong jawline and full lips to his very long and touchable hair. And the fact that he’s wearing an all-black outfit with a cape? That’s never a bad fashion choice. I may even be drooling a little.

My friend, Elle, keeps telling me that I’ve never met a real guy before. I’ve told to her stop being dramatic. But now? Elle is so right.

The Prism Master addresses the dream man. “If you’ll excuse us, Dex, I must speak with my ward.”

Dex. That’s his name.

I should be worried about the Prism Master and my failed escape attempt. I’m not. Instead, Dex and I stay in a serious state of eye lock. Connections form. Something awakens inside me.

“Dex,” repeats the Prism Master. “I asked you to leave.”

My brows lift. The Prism Master has beaten into my head that I’m a tower tithe, end of story. I must be linked with this Dex. Could he be a Rapunzel? I’d never heard of a male Rapunzel before. But if Dex is one? I’m in.

Dex ignores the Prism Master. “Grayson… Is that your full name?”

“Grayson Eyre,” I reply.

Dex smiles. “Nice to find you.”

My insides get all twisty at those words. I have the strange impulse to grab this guy’s palm and race for the exit. I even raise my hand a little, ready to clasp his.

Suddenly, lights flare all around. A magical wind strikes up. Cords snake out from the mirror behind the Prism Master. A sense of weightlessness surrounds me. Fast as a whip, I’m dragged into the mirror.

About Author Christina Bauer:

Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too.

Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.

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Monster House Books


Mirrors and Mysteries, Book 9 of Fairy Tales of the Magicorum 

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Towers and Tithes, Book 8 of Fairy Tales of the Magicorum 

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Enter Christina’s Rafflecopter here.

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Phantom
Harley Wylde
(Devil’s Boneyard MC)
Publication date: December 24th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Charisma — My mother died when I was a teen. My dad had never been in the picture, and I ended up in the system. When the high school quarterback took advantage, no one believed me. Then I landed in true hell… my foster mom was a monster who preyed on the children in her home. When I aged out of the system, I stayed in the hopes I could save the boys who were assigned to live with her. She let me, as long as I paid in blood. The never-ending cycle of abuse sickened me and wore me down. I felt powerless. Until he showed up.

Phantom — My mission was simple. Find the woman preying on young boys and end her. I didn’t count on the bewitching young woman, little girl, and two boys living with the monster. Now they’re mine. My family. When their demons come searching for them, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. Even call in reinforcements from other clubs. Someone should have warned me I needed to protect myself as well. I never counted on Charisma’s dad showing up, nor could I have ever guessed who he was. Things just got complicated.

WARNING: Phantom contains darker subjects that may trigger some readers as well as bad language, violence, and adult situations. No cheating, no cliffhanger, and a guaranteed Happily-Ever-After.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

A Lexus pulled into her driveway and I saw the bitch get out of the car. Two boys slid out then a slim form with subtle curves. Charisma. She lifted her face to the sun and my heart stuttered in my chest. Christ! I swallowed my food and nearly choked on the large bite. Shade had mentioned she’d been with Heather for a decade, which made her around twenty-seven now. Roughly half my age, but fuck if she wasn’t stunning. She reached into the car and helped out a little girl I knew had to be her daughter, Nova.

And that’s the moment I knew I’d do whatever it took to keep those four safe. Charisma, Nova, and the two boys would never be hurt again. The way she cradled her daughter against her side, the protective stance she took between Heather and those boys, told me one thing — the girl wasn’t hurting anyone. Unless it was Heather. She had murder in her eyes when she stared at the woman. Crazy bitch only smirked back at her.

I texted Shade.

Change of plans. I’m bringing them all home with me.

Those boys reminded me of Samurai when he’d been a teen. Small and wiry. And they were both at least half-Asian. It seemed Heather had a type.

I watched them go into the house with the She-Devil and shut the door. After I finished my food, I pulled out of the parking lot and moved over to her home, stopping my Jeep right behind her fancy car. Reaching into the backseat, I picked up my cut, as well as the brass knuckles I’d hidden underneath it. I slid the weapon into my pocket and got out of the vehicle. Pulling on my cut, I shut the door, locked the car, and went up to ring the bell.

Charisma opened the door, her eyes going wide when she saw me. She skimmed over my cut, her gaze locking on the patches denoting my club, name, and rank. She finished her perusal before lifting her gaze to mine again. I caught movement in my peripheral. Judging the size and shape, it was her daughter.

I pulled my keys from my pocket and tipped my head toward the driveway. “Take your daughter and get in the Jeep. Lock the doors and wait for me.”

Her eyebrows went up. She stared, not moving and not speaking. She reached up to tuck her hair behind her eat and I growled at what I saw. Someone had damaged her with what looked like acid. I moved slow, not wanting to startle her, and checked the other side. Son of a bitch. Whoever had hurt her, had harmed both ears. Which meant… I mouthed the words slowly. “Can you hear me?”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

“What else did that bitch do to you?” I asked, mouthing the words slowly again.

Her cheeks flushed and she dropped her gaze. Shame. Whatever had been done to her, she was ashamed to tell me. I had a feeling I understood why she was still here with Heather. The woman used the boys against her, and probably used her against them. If she’d touched Nova, I’d make her suffer longer.

I tipped her chin up. “Take my keys. Get your daughter and wait in the Jeep. Lock the doors. Do you understand?”

She nodded and reached behind her. I saw Nova’s small fingers wrap around hers and Charisma took my keys. She hesitated, her gaze searching mine.

“I’ll get the boys out too.”

Her posture relaxed and she hurried to the Jeep with Nova in tow. Nothing in the reports Shade had found from social services mentioned Charisma being unable to hear. It had to have happened either right before she aged out, or after. For whatever reason, he couldn’t find any updates from the social workers the months leading up to her turning eighteen. Her exit had been little more than a few notes including how wonderful Heather had been to let her stay. I didn’t like being blindsided, but at least she would be safe now. All of them would be.

Author Harley Wilde:

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.
When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.

The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.

You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!

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I am so excited that DARKEST MATE by Alexis Calder is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $10 Amazon GC courtesy of Alexis, & Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway info below.

 

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Title: DARKEST MATE (Rejected Fate Book 1)

Author: Alexis Calder

Pub. Date: December 21, 2021

Publisher: Alexis Calder

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 346

Find it: GoodreadsAmazon, Kindle

Weakness
means death. Or worse.

After I was abandoned as a child, I was taken in by the Shadow Pack. A group of
ruthless, lawless, shifters who have only one rule: never let anyone see your
weakness.

In exchange for them keeping me alive, I owe them. The leader of the Shadows is
as handsome as he is ruthless. And he’s offered to wipe my debt in exchange for
marriage. He’d offer protection, but it would cost me my freedom.

Survival in the Shadows depends on back alley deals and shady alliances. It’s
become a way of life that I stopped questioning years ago. When a routine
burglary goes wrong, I find myself captured by the one family I never should
have crossed.

The Umbra family owns this city. They make us Shadow wolves look like the good
guys. They should have killed me for my crimes, but there’s a tiny problem… It
turns out Madoc Umbra is my fated mate.

Instead of killing me, I’m a prisoner. The rest of the family doesn’t know of
our bond and I intend to keep it that way. Madoc’s brothers want to end my
life; he wants to break the bond. I just want to get the heck out.

As long as I don’t let them see any weakness, I might have a chance of making
it out of here alive.

Darkest Mate is a full-length paranormal romance. 17+ for dark content,
steamy scenes, and language. This is book one in a trilogy and is not a
standalone. Mind the cliff.

Upcoming Release Dates:
Darkest Mate: December 9, 2021
Forbidden Sin: January 20, 2022
Feral Queen: March 3, 2022 

EXCERPT:

I glanced over at the ring, hoping to catch a glimpse of the undefeated
Dark Wolf. He had removed his hoodie, revealing a muscular back, strong
shoulders and short dark hair. I couldn’t even see his face, but I was frozen
in place, looking at him wide eyed. There was something about him that pulled
me in, forcing me to stare.

He rolled his shoulders, then tilted his head from side to side slowly.
As I watched the muscles in his back ripple and his arms flex and relax, my
breath hitched. Warmth radiated from my center, and the unmistakable sensation
of longing rushed through me.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I shook my head, trying to break the spell he had over me. Something was
very wrong with me. I’d seen shirtless men more times than I could count. It
was part of being a shifter. We didn’t get freaked out by nudity. But that man
wasn’t just a normal shirtless male, he was a work of fucking art.



About Alexis:

Alexis
Calder writes sassy heroines and sexy heroes with a sprinkle of sarcasm. She
lives in the Rockies and drinks far too much coffee and just the right amount
of wine.

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Pickled Pink in Paris by PJ Peterson Banner

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Pickled Pink in Paris

by PJ Peterson

December 1-31, 2021 Virtual Book Tour

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Pickled Pink in Paris by PJ Peterson

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Synopsis:

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A major business deal is disrupted by murder.

But a young physician has the key to the case…

A dying man’s last word whispered in her ear: “…mushroom…”

When medical internist Julia Fairchild receives an invitation to Paris from her long-distance beau, Josh, she packs a bag, grabs her sister Carly, and jets off for the City of Lights. But once they arrive, death and suspicion take the place of champagne and escargot. Josh’s business partner is dying in the hospital, and the gendarmes are convinced Josh is behind it.

Naturally curious and driven to seek justice, Julia jumps at the chance to clear Josh’s name – but he doesn’t seem interested in proving his innocence. Is he hiding something? Will Julia uncover the true murderer and salvage what’s left of her Paris vacation, or is she next on the killer’s hit list?

If you love Louise Penny, Laura Child, and Sue Grafton, you’ll enjoy reading this fun-filled cozy mystery! Find out why fans say “It’s a must read!” Don’t wait…

 

Genre: Cozy Mystery

Published by: Finngirl, LLC Publication Date: August 5th 2021 Number of Pages: 246 ISBN: 1733567518 (ISBN-13: 978-1733567510) Series: Julia Fairchild Mysteries, Book 3

Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

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Chapter One Sunday “Where could he be?” Julia asked Carly. “Josh said he’d meet us after we cleared Customs.” She again searched the crowd of hopeful faces in the waiting area of the Charles de Gaulle airport. Her heart dropped at not seeing him, then raced wildly in her chest as she had a moment of anxiety about making the decision to meet Josh in Paris at all. She turned back to her sister. “Do you see him yet? Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Maybe he’ll be sorry he asked me to join him. Maybe he won’t be here after all. Maybe…” Carly rolled her eyes as she listened to her older sister. “You sure have a lot of doubts for someone who has to make split-second decisions regularly in your real life. Haven’t you two been staying in touch regularly? Everything will be fine.” Dr. Julia Fairchild, now in her late thirties, had built a busy internal medicine practice in southwest Washington State over the ten years since she finished her residency. It was a challenge to take more than a week off at a time, but she had persuaded her new partner to cover for her while she made this big trip. She had met Josh Larson, a fortyish Washington D.C. corporate attorney who specialized in mergers, a few years earlier at an international hospital conference in Monte Carlo. They had reconnected the previous fall, when he had shown up in Amsterdam while she and Carly were there on a tap-jazz dancing tour. She’d been thrilled when he had invited her to meet him in Paris the following spring, where he had scheduled business meetings. Josh had explained that he would be busy with his company’s clients much of the time for the first several days of her trip, so Julia had suggested inviting her sister to keep her company. Now doubts clouded Julia’s thoughts. “What if you don’t have a good time after I’ve talked you into coming?” “Julia, calm down,” said Carly. “I’m sure we’ll both have a grand time here. How could someone come to Paris and not enjoy themselves?” She patted Julia’s hand, which was resting on the fence separating the arriving passengers from the greeters. “Maybe we got through Customs faster than he could get through the airport traffic,” she added. “Didn’t he tell you the congestion here was horrendous?” “Yes, but—hey, I see my name on a placard.” Julia pointed to a line of livery drivers holding up signs identifying their intended passengers. “Follow me.” Julia and Carly dragged their luggage through the throng of travelers, saying “Pardon” several times as they moved slowly toward the uniformed man. He was of smallish build, with graying black hair, a cleft chin, and small dark eyes. He smiled as Julia and Carly approached him. “Bonjour. I’m Julia Fairchild,” she said, pointing to her name on his sign, “and this is my sister, Carly Pedersen. I don’t see Josh. Isn’t he here?” “Welcome to Paris, mesdemoiselles,” the chauffeur said with a slight bow. “My name is Vincent. Monsieur Larson is unable to be here. Please allow me to take you to your hotel and you will learn more.” He took charge of their luggage and led the way to a gleaming black limousine. Carly whistled. “Pretty fancy, sis. I should travel with you more often.” Carly Pedersen, a homebody at heart with a golden mop of hair, hazel eyes, and an effervescent smile, didn’t usually get the opportunity to travel to Europe and had jumped at the chance. Her husband, Rob, was quickly mollified by her promise to learn to prepare some French dishes at Le Cordon Bleu. Julia flashed her a happy grin, pleased that Carly had agreed to come on this trip. As a physician dedicated to continuing medical education, Julia had traveled over the years to international conferences, but had not made it to Paris until now. The chauffeur poured a flute of champagne for each of the sisters once they were settled in the limo. They toasted each other and Paris, then enjoyed the crisp bubbly drink in comfort as they motored through the city. Though disappointed that Josh hadn’t met her at the airport with a bouquet of flowers and a kiss, Julia was too enthralled with the thrill of visiting Paris for the first time to dwell on it. Carly sighed. “Pinch me, Julia. I’m not sure this is real yet.” “I don’t recall the last time I was in a limousine,” said Julia. “It wasn’t the ‘in’ thing when I went to our high school prom.” “As if there even were any limos in our little town.” “That would be the other reason,” Julia agreed. She pointed. “Look straight ahead, Carly. I can see the Eiffel Tower from here. It’s so majestic. Let’s plan to go to the top.” “I hope you mean by elevator.” Carly had never been the athletic type but served as a cheerleader for Julia’s efforts at running and tap dancing. “Maybe we can walk partway up,” Julia said, “and take the elevator the rest of the way.” The limousine stopped in front of an elegant older building, Hotel du Champs de Mars, which was nestled in the chic Gros-Caillou neighborhood of Paris. Julia had noticed a mix of embassies and other posh hotels and upscale restaurants lining the tranquil streets as Vincent drove through the area. She loved the welcoming “Old World” ambience of the entrance, where a debonair valet dressed in a gold-trimmed red and black uniform stood at the door, ready to help the new guests. “Bonjour, mesdemoiselles. Welcome to Paris.” He bowed gallantly, longish brown curls framing his young face, then helped Julia and Carly alight from the limo. “Bonjour and merci, monsieur,” Julia managed to say in her rusty high school French. Julia and Carly grinned at each other and linked arms as they entered the foyer. Josh had told Julia he had arranged their stay at this hotel because of its location near the Eiffel Tower and other popular attractions. He had also told her that it was his favorite place to stay when he had business meetings in the city. “Welcome to Hotel du Champs, Ms. Fairchild and Ms. Pedersen,” said the desk clerk. “Mr. Larson left you a message, which you will find in your room. I hope you enjoy your stay with us.” He motioned to the bellman, who had secured their bags on a cart, and who then led them to the elevators on his left, and on to their room on the fourth floor. The bellman opened the door and stepped aside while Julia and Carly entered the suite. Julia stood still momentarily, gazing at the elegantly appointed room. A small settee and chair graced the main room. The bed looked inviting, with layers of pillows and a lush comforter. “I feel like a princess in here. This is my favorite shade of blue. Look at the detail, Carly.” She plopped onto the bed. “I’m in love with Paris already.” Carly peered out the window, which opened onto the street below. “It’s not far to the closest bistro either.” After tipping the young man, Julia eagerly tore open the envelope, which she saw was written on high-quality ecru paper. “What’s up with Josh?” Carly asked impatiently. “His note says he has to entertain some important clients for dinner tonight. He says to meet him in the lobby here at four o’clock for a glass of wine.” Julia checked her watch. “It’s two now. We can wander around a little before we meet Josh and unpack later. Is that okay with you?” “Sounds good to me,” said Carly. “So does a warm cookie. I saw them downstairs in the lobby, but the bellman walked right on by before I could grab one.” Julia smiled, knowing Carly’s fondness for sweets, especially fresh-baked cookies. “We can go down and get one on our way out the door.” She headed back out the door and waited in the lobby while Carly nabbed their treats. “How many museums on the list this time, sis?” Carly asked as they started walking down the street, cookies in hand. “Six, I think. We can do more if you like.” “Six.” Carly groaned. “You know how much I loathe musty old museums. I saw my share of them on the last trip with you—as well as their storage vaults, art, and forgeries. I don’t want a repeat of that experience.” Julia grimaced. Too true. Neither did Julia. In fact, Carly had been kidnapped because of Julia’s snooping around a murder in Amsterdam. Thankfully, with some help, Carly had been rescued. If anything, Julia owed her little sister a fabulous trip with no drama. “Agreed. Although you have to admit it was memorable.” Julia ducked as Carly pretended to hit her with her bag. “Anyway, there are only a couple of absolute must-see museums here. We can’t leave Paris without at least going to the Louvre and Notre Dame.” “I can tolerate visiting two of them.” “And maybe Versailles.” “That’s three,” said Carly. “One museum, one cathedral, and one palace,” Julia clarified as they negotiated crossing a busy street. “Think of them more as beautiful historical landmarks that happen to contain marvelous works of art.” “Very clever, Julia. Where are we going now?” “I want to get my bearings around this area.” Julia found their location on the map she’d accepted from the desk clerk. “The streets here are crazy, from what I saw in the guidebook. It reminds me of trying to find my way around St. Maarten.” Although Paris was a full-sized city compared to the small towns of the Caribbean island, both locations perplexed visitors with their seemingly haphazard layout. Julia tried to shake off the thought of that island vacation, another trip that went awry. Julia felt herself scowl. She’d taken that trip to meet up with Tony—and that certainly went sour. And here she was again, this time to meet up with Josh. Would Josh also prove to be not what— “Where are the street signs? They would be helpful right about now.” Carly interrupted Julia’s thoughts as they stopped at the street’s end, and Carly looked right and left. “Look on the corner of the building, about six or seven feet up.” Julia pointed out a plaque bearing the street name. “We probably shouldn’t wander too far away, since we’re meeting Josh at four.” She studied the map again, comparing it to her surroundings. “The Eiffel Tower is nearby,” she said, pointing toward the park surrounding the famous structure. “We can walk around the grounds for maybe half an hour, then turn around and get back to the hotel to change and freshen up.” “Works for me. Lead the way.” The stately buildings gave way to lush greenery as they approached the Parc du Champs al Mars, which surrounded the Eiffel Tower itself. All cares melted away for Julia as she absorbed the Parisian beauty. Trees and shrubs and lush green lawns covered the acres and acres of parkland. Julia had read that three hundred workers had built the tower from eighteen thousand pieces in two years, two months, and two days, finishing in time for the opening of the World’s Fair in Paris on May 15, 1889. “Oh my. C’est magnifique,” Julia said, snapping a few photos with her Nikon. “It’s worth the walk, I’d say. How many steps did you say it is to the top?” Carly asked. “One thousand seven hundred ten. At the YMCA, there was a challenge to climb that many steps by doing one hundred eight round trips on the staircase.” “Wouldn’t half of those be going downhill? That seems like cheating, kind of.” “But how else would you get back to the bottom of the stairs?” asked Julia, craning her neck to peer at the top of the tower. “Frankly, I agree that the elevator is a perfectly good option when we decide to go up. The website suggested going to the top in the late afternoon, and then staying to watch as the nighttime city lights turn on. That would be gorgeous, I’m sure.” She sighed dreamily. “Then we could walk down.” After a few more minutes of admiring the lush ground-level scenery, it was time to leave to meet Josh. “Okay, Girl Scout,” Carly teased. “Let’s see how you do with your directions back to the hotel.” Julia turned the map upside down to help her retrace their steps. Then she raised her hand in the air, pointed her finger, and said “That way.” They passed a few tourists and several people walking dogs—not a French poodle among them. Several kiosks plastered with notices and handbills were scattered along the way. Julia suddenly stopped and grabbed Carly’s arm. “What is it? Why are you stopping?” Tapping a handbill advertising tango lessons, Julia said, “Wouldn’t that be fun?” “Tango lessons? Not on my bucket list,” Carly said, shaking her head. “But we’re in Paris. What better opportunity to learn the tango than right here?” Julia hummed a sultry tune as she danced solo on the sidewalk. “Uh, Julia. People are staring at you, if you don’t mind.” Julia giggled. “Oops. I got carried away.” Carly stood with her hands on her hips. “What would we do for partners if we went?” “Josh, for me. Perhaps they have extra men who take these lessons.” She tore off one of the stubs with the phone number. “Wouldn’t hurt to call.” Carly shook her head more vigorously. “Not me. I’d almost rather go to a museum. Let’s keep walking.” Five minutes later they were in the hotel lobby, where they found Josh waiting. Julia felt her breath quicken at the sight of the dark-haired, blue-eyed man with his trim athletic build. He returned her smile with a huge grin of his own, then enveloped Julia in a big hug, winking at Carly, who pretended to be embarrassed by the public display of affection. She was mollified by her own welcoming hug in turn. The trio chatted and laughed as they sauntered to the private patio, where a young, buff waiter seated them and took drink orders. “Julia, let me explain what’s happened since my last email to you,” Josh said as he took Julia’s hands in his own. “As you know, I was planning to stay at this same hotel so I would be close to you.” “You did say this was your favorite place. Where are you staying instead?” “The Marriott on the Champs-Élysées. Roger Westover, one of my business partners, had arranged for us to stay in a suite of rooms because several of our clients are from out of town.” “I don’t get it,” said Julia. “Why do you have to stay together?” “Here come our drinks. I’ll explain in a minute.” Julia caught the waiter winking at Carly as he served the beverages. She smiled, recalling other moments when her adorable golden-haired younger sister had attracted a man’s eye. Their Finnish heritage provided them both with striking high cheekbones, although Julia was bestowed brunette locks and sparkly blue eyes, in contrast to her sister’s blonde curls and hazel eyes. “First, a toast to two beautiful women who make Paris even more lovely.” Josh raised his glass, with the sisters following suit. “Salud.” Julia tasted the delightful pinot grigio, which had been chilled to the perfect temperature, as Carly sipped her gimlet. “Here’s the story, Julia.” Josh took a big breath. “Okay, normally we would meet our clients at local restaurants or in their own offices; but these men, except Pierre, came to Paris from other cities. It seemed easier to have our meetings in the hotel rather than trying to find a restaurant with a meeting room. Anyway, Roger told me a couple of clients had insisted that we stay at the hotel with them.” “Does that mean I won’t be seeing you?” Julia asked. “No, but it will be less of me for now,” Josh replied. “That’s why I’m glad you have Carly with you. I know you will find fun things to do. We’ll catch up after these guys leave town in a couple of days.” Julia sighed and said, “I understand.” “In the meantime,” said Josh, “I have instructed your concierge to take care of any tickets or excursions that you would like to do at my expense. And the limousine is at your disposal.” “You don’t have to do all that,” said Julia, disappointed that he had made arrangements as though he had known he wouldn’t be joining them. “Actually, my company can afford it, and they owe it to me, seeing as how they put us in this position in the first place.” Julia kissed Josh on the cheek. “Thank you, but I’d rather see you.” “You will in a couple of days. I promise.” Julia smiled hesitantly. “I knew we would have to entertain ourselves for the first couple of days anyway, so we have a Cordon Bleu course scheduled for tomorrow, and we can work in some sightseeing while we’re waiting.” Carly piped up. “Julia is hoping you will want to take tango lessons with her while you’re here.” “She is, huh?” Josh said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds interesting. That might be safer than your tap dance adventures last year.” “I’m not planning to get involved in any murders this trip. Scout’s promise.” Julia raised her glass. Carly snorted. “As if you could avoid them.” “A cooking class at Cordon Bleu sounds safe enough to me,” Josh said as he finished his drink. “Just don’t poison anyone.” *** Excerpt from Pickled Pink in Paris by PJ Peterson. Copyright 2021 by PJ Peterson. Reproduced with permission from PJ Peterson. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author PJ Peterson:

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PJ Peterson

PJ is a retired internist who enjoyed the diagnostic part of practicing medicine as well as creating long-lasting relationships with her patients. As a child she wanted to be a doctor so she could “help people.” She now volunteers at the local Free Medical Clinic to satisfy that need to help. She loved to read from a young age and read all the Trixie Belden and Nancy Drew books she could find. It wasn’t until she was an adult that she wrote anything longer than short stories for English classes and term papers in others. Writing mysteries only makes sense given her early exposure to that genre. Sprinkling in a little medical mystique makes it all the more fun.

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Catch Up With PJ Peterson: www.PJPetersonAuthor.com Goodreads BookBub – @mizdrpj1 Facebook – PJ Peterson

 

 

Tour Participants:

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I am so excited that the paperback for WIDER THAN
THE SKY
by Katherine Rothschild is available now and that I get to share
the news!

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If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book,
be sure to check out all the details below.

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This blitz also includes an awesome giveaway
courtesy of Katherine &
Rockstar Book Tours.
So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway info below.

 


 Wider Than The Sky

by Katherine Rothschild


Paperback Pub. Date:  December 7, 2021

Publisher: Soho Teen

Formats: Hardcover, Paperback, eBook, Audiobook

Pages: 288

.

Find it:  GoodreadsAmazon, Kindle, Audible, B&N, iBooks, Kobo, TBDBookshop.org

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In the wake of sudden tragedy, twin sisters uncover a secret that rips open their world. Katherine Rothschild explores the pain and power of forgiveness in a stunning debut novel that will shatter your heart and piece it back together, one truth at a time.

Sixteen-year-old Sabine Braxton doesn’t have much in common with her identical twin, Blythe. When their father dies from an unexpected illness, each copes with the loss in her own way—Sabine by “poeting” (an uncontrollable quirk of bursting into poetry at inappropriate moments) and Blythe by obsessing over getting into MIT, their father’s alma mater. Neither can offer each other much support . . . at least not until their emotionally detached mother moves them into a ramshackle Bay Area mansion owned by a stranger named Charlie.

Soon, the sisters unite in a mission to figure out who Charlie is and why he seems to know everything about them. They make a life-changing discovery:their parents were hiding secrets about their sexual identities. The revelation unravels Sabine’s world, while practical Blythe seems to take everything in stride. Once again at odds with her sister, Sabine chooses to learn all she can about the father she never knew. Ultimately, she must decide if she can embrace his last wish for a family legacy–even if it means accepting a new idea of what it means to be a family.

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Praise for Wider than the Sky

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“Sabine’s struggle to reconcile her memory of her father with the man he really
was—and to make room in her life for his hopes as well as her own—cuts to the
heart of what it means to love someone unconditionally. Wider than the
Sky
 skillfully weaves multiple character arcs together to examine the
ideas of home, hope, and family in surprising new ways.”—Misa Sugiura, It’s
Not Like It’s a Secret

“Lyrical and lovely, Wider than the Sky is one of those
rare books that has everything—masterful storytelling, a great love story,
important themes, razor-sharp wit, and memorable characters. It’s a gorgeous
debut that will capture your heart.”—Corina Vacco, Delacorte
Prize–winning author of My Chemical Mountain

“I haven’t stopped thinking about these sisters since I first read Wider
than the Sky
. Sabine and Blythe will leap off the page and live in your
memories like old friends. There is so much heart and humor in Katherine’s
writing; even as her characters grapple with serious concerns and issues, she
captures how life can slice us open and yet give us the ability to laugh and
love and hope through the deepest pain and loss.”—Jennifer Chambliss
Bertman, New York Times bestselling author of Book
Scavenger

“Rothschild’s story showcases how secrets impede a person’s ability to see the
world clearly and that self-acceptance and honesty are the keys to a happy
ending.”School Library Journal

“Change comes suddenly to the lives of 16-year-old Sabine and her identical
twin sister, Blythe, when their father dies unexpectedly, prompting their
mother and a strange man named Charlie to move the girls to the small town of
Thornewood . . . Rothschild’s first novel is accomplished and nicely plot-rich
with some interesting quirks, chief among them being Sabine’s deep-rooted love
for Emily Dickinson’s poetry and her compulsive need to recite it.”Booklist

“Kath Rothschild’s Wider than the Sky is pitch perfect! Young
adult readers will fall in love with her wonderfully quirky narrator Sabine and
her swoony romance with Kai. Combine that with family secrets and a mysterious
stranger and you have the ingredients for a compelling read. I cannot wait to
put it in the hands of my young customers!”—Kathleen Caldwell, A Great Good
Place for Books (Oakland, CA)

 

Check out an excerpt of the book from Google Play Books Here!

 

About Katherine Rothschild:

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Katherine Rothschild is a Lecturer in the Program in Writing and Rhetoric at Stanford
University, a former ballet and Arabic dance instructor, and an obsessive
Twitter food truck-follower. Her first-person essays have been published on
KQED/NPR, in The San Francisco Chronicle, and other Bay Area and California
publications. She holds an MFA in Fiction Writing, a PhD in Composition and
Applied Linguistics, has received artist’s grants from Vermont Studio Center
and Kindlings West, and is a longtime member of the SCBWI. She lives in the San
Francisco Bay Area with her family. Her debut novel is Wider Than the
Sky 
from Soho Teen. Find her on Twitter @Kath_Rothschild.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Pinterest | Goodreads

 

 

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There’s A Dead Girl In My Yard
Angela Page & Mia Altieri
Publication date: December 1st 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Crime

Inspired by true events!

The life of Poppy, a struggling actress, is turned upside down when she witnesses the burial of an urn in her yard. Poppy gets entangled with the “dead girl,” Dalia, a Latina health guru, whose mourners show up in the yard, and whose criminal antics, ranging from Miami to New York to L.A., sent her into a witness protection program.

Why does Poppy agree to mourner manage Dalia’s burial site?

Dead Dalia’s fan club overwhelm Poppy with their visits, as do the dangerous signs of Dalia’s former life as healer and thief. Still, Poppy finds that wearing Dalia’s clothes bring her good luck in auditions and that Dalia’s luscious, Latin lovers are irresistible. Is Dalia really dead? Once Poppy is accused of complicity with Dalia’s crimes, she wants everything Dalia out of her life.

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Enjoy this glimpse inside:

Just after I moved into the guesthouse, they buried a dead girl in my yard. That’s when my life turned upside down and inside out for the second time. The first time was when the doctors rearranged my colon.

I was thrilled to move into the Topanga Canyon guesthouse, a boho-chic area north of Los Angeles. I knew about Topanga from growing up in the nearby San Fernando Valley. Now, as a struggling, mostly unemployed actress, I was living in a shitty, Hollywood neighborhood. Although it was a cute, little bungalow, the environment was killing me—dirty, filthy, hot, too much traffic, zero fresh air, noisy and people living on the edge. Hollywood was no longer glamorous. And parking was a son of a bitch. Also, at age forty-six, I was done stepping over homeless people. Sorry-not-sorry, and I deserved different and better. Even though many times, I had been close to homeless myself.

The universe spoke when I met Lily Jin at a Hollywood acting workshop. She was an exotic-looking and a mixed something. A twenty-two-year-old gal, and a lite-Buddhist, like me. I usually do just enough chanting to keep the demons and gremlins away for the day.

Lily was wearing torn jeans over her long, model-like legs and a midriff exposing a flat, firm tummy. There was not an ounce of fat anywhere.

Oh, to be twenty again and be able to eat, drink, smoke and snort anything. That was several decades behind me. My five-six, lanky frame was getting flabby. Yes, even skinny people can get flabby. I was now in yucky perimenopause, with the last of my overcooked eggs dropping into withering fallopian tubes and heading down through my dried-up hoo-ha. Luckily, at first glance, you can’t tell this is happening unless you’re airport security staff.

My dirty blonde shoulder length hair only needed a bit of henna to hide the grey and my brown eyes were still bright and youthful. This helped my agent place me in the thirty-five-to-forty-five roles, despite being in my mid-forties.

To date, no surgery, minimal fillers and injectables. However, as I headed towards the half-century mark, I would revisit. In the meantime, I strove to sharpen my acting skills, and let gravity have its way with me.

While in the workshop, Lily and I tried following the acting exercise. As we were pretending to be wounded sheep during an alien invasion, Lily whispered to me, asking if I knew of anyone who wanted to rent her guesthouse. After the workshop, we went to the El Compadre on Sunset to discuss the details. We were served frozen skinny margs, then toasted each other and became besties in an instant. When Lily told me that the guesthouse was in Topanga Canyon, I shouted over the mariachi band, “I’ll take it, I’ll take it, I’ll take it!” Even sight unseen and not knowing the price, she had me at “Topanga Canyon.”

I had heard about Topanga. It was crawling with the famous and the has-beens who never were. The town was known for its eclectic artists and colorful history, including one of the Manson family murders. During the Hollywood golden age, it was the weekend getaway hotspot for the now-dead stars you can see on the Turner Classic Movie channel. It had changed, but still had some leftover glamour and pricey homes. I was already fantasizing about living among the stars, wearing designer sunglasses and sipping champagne.

Before Lily would show me the property, we had to chant together while we were still drinking at El Compadre. The place was crowded, and the mariachi band was still in high gear. I knew I looked skeptical about chanting.

“Come on, we can do it. Tune the Mexicans out,” Lily said as she closed her eyes and chanted.

The waiter came by and made a comment. But I only caught, “Locas.” I kept one eye open and one closed while I chanted with Lily. It felt like a minute, and then she paused. We both instinctually did a pinkie swear. As we exhaled, we vowed to make this living situation work. I was cleared to visit the digs. But the rent Lily was going to charge was under market. So, was there a catch: leaking roof, Peeping Toms, bad plumbing, crawling with critters?

 

Author Angela Page:

Angela Page is a writer, film producer, and graduate of The London School of Economics and New York University.

“THERE’S A DEAD GIRL IN MY YARD” is her latest co-authored released inspired by real events!

“SUDDENLY SINGLE SYLVIA,” a novella and dating guide and the basis for the award-winning short film “SYLVIA.”

“MATCHED IN HEAVEN,” a comic fantasy romance, was the winner of the 2015 New Apple humor category and 2015/16 Readers’ Views award winner in romance.

Her short stories have been published in a variety of magazines and anthologies. She wrote and produced the multi award-winning comedy short, “Unplugging Aunt Vera” which is featured on the SHORTS TV channel. Her other short works can be seen on IndiPix Unlimited and FunnyorDie

Website / Goodreads / Instagram

 

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

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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.