To Preserve, Protect And Destroy

by Matthew D. Saeman

 

 

 

Synopsis (from Amazon):

NASA Geologist Unearths Deadly Martian Stones: A Race Against Time to Thwart Catastrophic Mission and Save Millions from Imminent Disaster!

In To Preserve, Protect and Destroy, we follow the gripping journey of Terrence Sullivan, a dedicated NASA geologist, as he is thrust into an unexpected mission of universal importance. Tasked with the perilous job of collecting volatile stones from the hostile terrain of Mars, Terrence is initially led to believe that his mission is purely for the safety of the universe. These are no ordinary stones, but the very same that caused the catastrophic end to the first terraforming mission on the red planet.

As the narrative unfolds, Terrence uncovers the chilling truth behind his mission’s ultimate goal. The stakes are higher than he could have ever imagined, with the fate of his crew and millions of innocent lives hanging in the balance. The ship is set to return to Earth, but with a deadly cargo that could cause it to crash land in the Middle East, resulting in an unimaginable disaster.

Caught in a web of deceit and danger, Terrence must navigate the treacherous path of duty, morality, and survival. With time running out, he is forced to make decisions that will not only determine his fate but that of humanity itself. Will he be able to thwart the impending catastrophe and reveal the truth to the world, or will he become another casualty in this deadly game of power and control?

To Preserve, Protect and Destroy is a thrilling exploration of space travel, the fragility of life, and the lengths one man will go to protect it. It is a testament to the human spirit’s resilience and the power of truth in the face of overwhelming odds. This gripping tale is sure to captivate fans of space exploration and those who relish in seeing the mighty fall. Prepare for a journey that will take you to the edge of your seat and beyond, as you delve into the heart-stopping world of To Preserve, Protect and Destroy.

.

Enjoy This Peek Inside:

“Madame Speaker, the President of the United States.”

Having been formally introduced to this joint session of Congress, President William Dowd III made his way down the center aisle of the House of Representatives chamber. The stark blue carpet matched his eyes perfectly and complimented the expensive, custom tailored suit he wore. As he proceeded, he was inundated with hands to shake, all of which he ignored. The president’s face resembled that of a boxer preparing to defend his belt, focused solely on the fight he’d been training for. He wanted no distractions and his pace was nearly at a slow jog.

Passing the podium from which he’d speak, President Dowd made his way to the back of the ceremonial seating posts where he shook hands with his Vice President and the Speaker of the House. He then headed back to his podium, stood and waited for the applause from half the audience to quiet down.

“Madam Speaker. Mr. Vice President. Members of Congress, Madam Chief Justice, and associate Justices of the Supreme Court. I’m certain you are all well versed in the subject of World History, so I won’t presume to educate you on this particular topic. But please bear with me as I highlight the most important tenet of the Nazi party’s rise to power.”

The president, certain his speech’s opening was a shock to all, allowed the audience to murmur for a few seconds before proceeding. “In 1918, shortly after the end of World War I and the signing of the Treaty of Versailles, a man named Anton Drexler formed the foundation of what would come to be known as the Nazi party. His beliefs and philosophy centered around German nationalism. Nothing wrong with being a patriot, right? Unfortunately, for the nearly 84 million people who would lose their lives as a result of the Second World War, Drexler’s ideology was steeped in the blaming of anyone not belonging to the Aryan master race for every problem the German people encountered. And once Adolph Hitler, a gifted orator, joined forces with Drexler, it was only a matter of time before what started as a fledgling, some would say outlandish, concept began taking root with the German people and eventually garnered full fledged acceptance.

“It’s been many decades since the thankful end of World War II, the Holocaust, and the Nazi party. But has it been too long? Are we, as citizens of this great country, in danger of forgetting the atrocities committed by one man with a silver tongue? ‘Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.’ George Santayana, a Spanish American philosopher spoke these words in 1905, more than a century ago… and they couldn’t be more applicable today. I received the video I am about to show not more than twenty four hours ago. It was captured by an agent who has been working undercover for several years amongst the terrorist organization ISIS in Iraq. I called together this joint session of Congress so that all of you could see first hand the danger posed by Abu al-Hussein, the newly crowned leader of this lawless organization, now that he has convinced Al-Qaeda and the Taliban to join forces with his in an effort to complete their Caliphate dream of uniting all Muslims around the world. The Muslim faith is one of honor and respectability, but al-Hussein and his newly formed regime have bastardized this proud religion, converting it into an organization replete with decadent thugs. Once the leader gets a taste of power, his appetite won’t be satisfied. And as has been too painfully recognized many times over in days gone by, once the mob mentality takes control, there is no way to stop it before the loss of too many lives.”

As President Dowd stepped away from the podium, the Vice President and Speaker of the House took the seats next to his in the front row. The lights slowly dimmed as a large projector screen was lowered. It reached its extent with a metallic thud, causing some in the silenced gallery to jump. And then the video began to play. Shot with a cell phone, the operator was close enough to the speaker for his words to be heard and the thousands upon thousands of mesmerized onlookers to be seen clearly. Though Arabic was the language used by al-Hussein, an English translation of his delivered message was displayed at the bottom of the screen.

It was clear from the way he spoke and the hand gestures used, that he had familiarized himself with Hitler’s greatest hits. Every statement flowed methodically and strong, and the pace with which he spoke was slow enough to ensure all listeners, no matter their learning level, could easily understand the points he was attempting to make. He used strategic pauses in order to keep his audience intrigued, and the expression on his face was one of genuine care for his people.

According to the translation, al-Hussein was bemoaning the loss of so many centuries stolen from them by infidels from foreign lands and the loss of life resulting from infighting amongst their own kind. He touted the new regime as having seen enough of their own blood, and that now was the time to band together in order to rebuff any opposition who tried standing in their way. Upon hearing these words, the crowd drew to a near frenzy of approval, and as al-Hussein saw this, he took a step back from the microphone so he could relish in his success.

The remainder of the footage resembled a political rally comprised of no opposition to the speaker being celebrated. Everything al-Hussein said was gladly accepted and then answered by thunderous waves of applause. He concluded his remarks by indicating this unification was only the beginning. That as one with Allah, they were capable of anything.

It was dead silent as the screen went dark and began rising back toward the ceiling. When the lighting brightened, and as the president walked back to the podium, he could see the challenged faces of all in the auditorium; some uncertain, some frightened, but most categorically mad.

“Though other world leaders have viewed this footage, none seem to have seen it with the concern that I… and you now have. They are considering al-Hussein with a lack of concern as did President Roosevelt, Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, and President Lebrun of France with Hitler. The difference, of course, being that the three men I just named had no reason to believe the worst could happen. Now that we have seen the possibilities, it would be irresponsible of us not to act. And since we, the United States of America, remain the greatest country ever created by God, the responsibility falls upon our shoulders.”

The president received a standing ovation, and allowed it to persist a bit longer before furthering his thoughts aloud. “Of course, I’m not asking for a declaration of war. There are those in Iraq as well as other countries in the Middle East who deplore the movement which has begun gaining footage. My recommendation is to send in a single battalion of highly trained soldiers who will train the young men and women of these countries how to fight for what they believe in; a democratic way of life where you’re not told how to dress or whether or not you can hold a job other than raising children and bowing to your spouse’s every whim.”

The round of applause President Dowd earned following that statement was similar to the one al-Hussein received, the only difference being that no one in the House of Representatives chamber fired off their guns in celebration.

“Let me be clear. Our soldiers will be nowhere near the front line. In fact, they will be safely back home long before any aggression takes place. I simply ask you all to consider the potential ramifications of allowing al-Hussein’s movement to swell, and to remember the mistakes made in the past that took so many lives. God bless you, and God bless America.”

On his journey back up the center aisle, President Dowd’s pace was much slower. He shook every hand thrust his way and showed genuine appreciation for the verbal bi-partisan support he received. But in the quiet space of his own mind, he wondered how long it would take these people to realize they’d just been duped, or if they ever would.

.

MY REVIEW

Do I think we’ll ever set foot on Mars? Yes. But not for a long time. There’s too much still to learn about traveling such a long distance. Do I think once we do go there it will be exploited? Yes. There’s always those who hunger for power and wealth waiting for a new way to get it.

To Preserve, Protect And Destroy. Such an apt title. Something is discovered on Mars. People are sent to retrieve it. Some want to study it. Some want to bury it. And some want to use it. There’s that saying…” just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

I was pulled in right from the first couple of sentences. Those brief descriptions put me there. I learned what was on Mars. Thought about what it might mean and formed my own opinions. Shared the excitement, fears and desires along with the crew. And kept turning the pages. I needed, no, had to know what the outcome was.

As I neared the end of the book all I thought was, “there’s no place like home.” And I hoped the last few pages showed me it was still there.

I enjoy science fiction stories. Especially those that might be able to happen. Throw in characters I grow to care about and some bad guys I’d like to drop kick, and I’m a happy camper.

4 STARS

 

.

Interview With Author Matthew D. Saeman

On writing:

 

How did you do research for your book?

The majority of the research I did was from the Geological perspective since I knew very little about that branch of science. That information was readily available online, as was everything I needed regarding NASA, the White House, and the President.

 

Which was the hardest character to write? The easiest?

The hardest character to write was President Dowd since I’ve never met a U.S. president, especially one of his ilk. The easiest was Terrence Sullivan since I based most of his emotions after my own.

 

Where do you get inspiration for your stories?

I keep an open mind, and when an idea pops into my head I ask myself two important questions: Has it already been done and would it be fun to write?

 

What advice would you give budding writers?

Since I still consider myself one, my advice is something I tell myself every day: Trust your gut and write stories YOU think would be fun to read.

 

Do you have another profession besides writing?

I teach High School Special Education.

 

How long have you been writing?

As far as novels, only six or seven years. Prior to that I wrote screenplays and short stories.

 

Do you ever get writer’s block? What helps you overcome it?

I don’t believe in “writer’s block.” The only times I have difficulty progressing with a story are when the story has a fundamental flaw that must be fixed. Once it is, the “block” goes away.

 

What is your next project?

I have a friend who fell while rock climbing. She’s kind enough to allow me to use her experience in the story I’ll write… though I have no idea what that’ll be yet.

 

What genre do you write and why?

The majority of the stories I write are Suspense/Thrillers, mostly because there are so many fun ways to tell interesting stories in that genre.

 

What is the last great book you’ve read?

Legion by William Peter Blatty.

 

What were the biggest rewards and challenges with writing your book?

The biggest reward was finishing it, the biggest challenge was having the patience not to start writing before the outline was solid.

 

Which authors inspired you to write?

Gordon McAlpine was a friend who inspired me to do what I love.

 

 

 

On rituals:

 

Where do you write?

Resting comfortably on my couch.

 

Do you write every day?

If I’ve got a story that’s flowing well, I write every day. My goal is at least 1000 words a day.

 

In today’s tech savvy world, most writers use a computer or laptop. Have you ever written parts of your book on paper?

Never. I write on my phone, it feels more personal.

 

Fun stuff:

 

If you could go back in time, where would you go?

1700s USA. I’d love to see first hand how our founders worked together.

 

Favorite travel spot?

The Republic of Ireland

 

Favorite dessert?

Chocolate fudge cake… the richer the better.

 

What’s the funniest thing that ever happened to you? The scariest? The strangest?

The funniest was when I ordered a lamb stew that had a hoof in it, the scariest was when I almost accidentally dumped Ray Bradbury out of his wheelchair, and the strangest was hearing a cat crying outside our house that sounded like a small child.

 

Any hobbies? or Name a quirky thing you like to do.

No real hobbies, but when watching a TV show or movie, I enjoy checking my phone to see how tall the actors are.

 

If there is one thing you want readers to remember about you, what would it be?

I’m hysterically funny, despite what my wife and daughter would say.

 

What TV series are you currently binge watching?

I just finished Defending Jacob and am about to begin Billy the Kid.

 

What is your theme song?

“The Modern World” by The Jam

 

What song is currently playing on a loop in your head?

“22” by Taylor Swift. My daughter listens to her nonstop!

 

What is something that made you laugh recently?

A YouTube video where a guy is on the phone at work and his colleagues placed a tarantula on his shoulder. His reaction was priceless!

 

What is your go-to breakfast item?

An apple with reduced fat peanut butter.

 

What is the oldest item of clothing you own?

 A ratty t-shirt I refuse to throw away. It’s at least 20 years old.

 

Who was your childhood celebrity crush?

Kathy Coleman who played Holly Marshall on Land of the Lost (the TV show).

.

Guest Post

I’m fascinated that EVERYONE doesn’t love to write. The thought of crafting a story from scratch, developing the characters and plot in whatever form of outline works best, then writing one chapter after another until the book is finished makes me giddy! Being a High School teacher, it’s rare for students not to ask “How many sentences do we have to write?” when I give them a writing assignment. They make it sound as if the process were the equivalent of a root canal with no novocain, which is why I do my best to make it as interesting as possible. I first tell them there are NO wrong answers. I compare writing to painting, explaining that every artist sees things in their own way, then showing them how I do it and how much fun it can be. Does this procedure work with every student? Absolutely not. But it does allow their minds to open up just enough to get the work done, and for some, exposes a love for the written word they never knew they had.

In sixth grade, my teacher asked us to write a Halloween story. To this day, I still remember how cathartic it felt to craft that one page piece. It’s something inside that can’t be defined but it truly exists. I do believe all of us possess this creative gift, yet most choose to ignore it. To each their own. I love writing. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of either the story I’m currently working on or the one I’d like to write next. I’m a dedicated soul, an attribute passed down from my parents. When I begin a project, no matter what kind, I finish it. When it comes to writing stories, completing them provides a sensation of pride from which I derive my optimistic outlook on life. I’m thankful every day that I’ve chosen this facet as my creative outlet, if for no other reason than it allows me an internal peace which, in these crazy times, seems so hard to come by for too many.

.

About Author Matthew D. Saeman:

.

Matthew D. Saeman, a native of Orange County, CA, is a distinguished graduate of Cal State Fullerton. He has dedicated his life to shaping young minds as a Special Education teacher in San Diego. His personal life is as fulfilling as his professional one, being a loving husband and a doting father to one child. A proud owner of a Great Dane, Matthew’s life is a blend of compassion and commitment.

Instagram

Author Marketing Experts tags for social media: Instagram / Twitter

Purchase Links: Amazon / Goodreads

 

.

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

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.

.

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

Author Andrea Kristin will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

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

Fresh Grown

by Andrea Kristin

 

 

Genre: Organic Cooking Book

Synopsis

Written, photographed, and designed by Andrea, this book is filled with firsthand imagery and knowledge direct from the farm. For beginners and experts alike, its unique insights, stunning visuals, and practical approach make it an invaluable resource for anyone wanting to fully utilize and enjoy their fresh produce. Featuring over 50 types of vegetables (with applications for far more), from asparagus to zucchini and everything in between, it will help you reap maximum benefits, stretch your dollars, and make it all go farther than you ever thought possible while deepening your appreciation for nature’s delicious bounty.

Filled with:
– stunning images
– staple recipes
– creative uses
– cooking + storage tips
– preservation guides

A book you’ll return to time and time again— a staple in any home kitchen.

Enjoy this peek inside:

THE ROOT OF IT

When Denis and I started our organic market garden farm with our five kiddos in tow, we were excited to grow a bounty of wonderful produce for our local community. Ordering our first seeds had us dreaming about all of the exciting items we would produce. We couldn’t wait to hold the vegetables in our hands, taste the flavours, and share the harvest with our customers to enjoy around their dinner tables. Farm-to-fork deliciousness had begun. Our community was enthusiastic, and our CSA program was a smashing success.

Over the years, as we expanded our program, continued to grow a wide variety of vegetables, and fed hundreds of returning customers, we noticed a few recurring themes. Number one, although our customers loved their fresh produce and were excited by the incredible variety (“it’s like Christmas in a box each week!”), encountering new vegetables was daunting for them. And number two, they wanted guidance from us on how to fully use, store, enjoy, and make the most of their abundance of fresh vegetables.

The most frequent questions we get asked as market garden farmers are:

+ What is this?
+ How do I eat this? (Are all these parts edible?)
+ What sort of things can I make with this?
+ How do you store this to keep it fresh?
+ What can I do with my excess vegetables piling up in my refrigerator?
+ How can I preserve my vegetables to last through the year?

I wrote this book to answer all these questions and be a comprehensive guide for you to fully use and enjoy all your delicious, nutritious veggies.

.

About Author Andrea Kristin:

.

Andrea Kristin and her husband have been growing vegetables on their organic market garden farm outside of Edmonton, Alberta for nearly a decade. They sell at farmers markets and feed their local community through their thriving CSA program (@greyarrowfarm). In this book, Andrea draws from her wealth of firsthand knowledge to walk the reader graciously through all the ways to use, store, and enjoy your vegetables. She shares a bounty of insightful information, including which parts of each plant are edible, how to use them, what to do with your excess, and the various ways to preserve them to last throughout the year.

Author Links: Website / Grey Arrow Farm / Instagram / Facebook

Purchase Link: Amazon

~~~~~
Giveaway contest ribbon promo label prize. Vector giveaway banner badge design template

~~~~~

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.

KILLER WEED
by Manning Wolfe
July 29 – August 16, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
Merit Bridges Legal Thrillers

 

GET READY FOR A LEGAL SHOWDOWN, LIKE NO OTHER, IN MANNING WOLFE’S GRIPPING THRILLER, KILLER WEED!

Austin attorney, Merit Bridges, steps up to defend a client whose twin sons are targeted in a fiery attack on a lucrative medical marijuana field. Once again, Merit is thrust into a dangerous game of deception with a corporate giant pulling strings. With their ruthless hired gun, Raiden Prince, eliminating obstacles with chilling precision, Merit finds herself in a high stakes battle for justice. As Merit thwarts the ambitions of the dangerous corporation, Prince turns his sights on her. With his mastery of disguise, he lurks in the shadows. But Merit, her clients, and her trusted team aren’t going down without a fight. Can Merit navigate a labyrinth of legal issues, protect her client, and survive Raiden Prince? Prepare for a twisty confrontation that no one can see coming. From award winning author Manning Wolfe comes the fifth installment in the electrifying Merit Bridges Legal Thrillers. Can be read in any order. DIVE IN TODAY! Killer Weed will keep you on the edge of your seat!

 

Book Details:

Genre: Legal Thriller

Published by: Starpath Books Publication Date: July 25, 2024 Series: Merit Bridges Legal Thriller, Book Five

Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

.

MY REVIEW

Sometimes, not often, I come across a book that bogs down when going into detail about how something works. Not so with this book. I found it amazing. Never knew how difficult it was to legally farm pot. The author did her research. She shared the ins and outs of the legal hemp and marijuana business. For those who manage to get one of the licenses to grow pot, there are so many hoops to jump through. So much red tape. That’s where the politicians and lawyers play a huge part. They navigate through the confusion, making sure the players are on the up and up.

The illegal pot business is dangerous. So is the legal one. It’s a business that brings in billions. For some, they would do anything to get a piece of that pie. From threats to sabotaging the crops, to arson and even murder.  Killer Weed indeed. It’s a fast paced thriller with some characters that you’ll love and some that you’ll want to…. well, erase from the picture. This is my first dive into the series and now I want more.

4 STARS

 

.

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1
Raiden Prince prowled the field on foot, a solitary figure moving purposefully in the dark through the field of tall green leafy stalks. The summer night wrapped around him like a shroud, making his eyes appear as black as pools of Texas crude oil and concealing his clandestine mission. In the velvet light, only the shape of the vegetation was visible, but the outline of the three-pronged leaves was unmistakable. He threw gasoline from a red gas can onto the field of hemp, backing up as he worked, so as not to soak his jeans or work boots with the flammable liquid. He returned the red can to the bed of his pickup, retrieved another gas can and moved to the opposite side of the field. There, he emptied the flammable liquid onto a greenhouse made of a steel frame and plastic sheeting, filled with high grade medical marijuana plants, some labeled Peanut Butter Breath, and others Blue Dream. The silence of the night was broken only by the rhythmic chirping of dog-day cicadas, and Prince’s off-key rendition of Red Headed Stranger. He did his best Willie Nelson imitation in his practiced backwoods Texas accent. He mimicked the elastic voices, that he’d heard most Texans use, by eliding certain syllables. All the vowels were stretched out in the middle of each word, and the end of them clipped, especially ones ending in ing. The music was just to set the mood for the evening’s tasks. He preferred rap. After he’d soaked the greenhouse, Prince backed toward the two lane county road as he threw the last of the gasoline. He then moved out of the field, onto the caliche roadbed, where he walked back to his old rusty pickup truck and placed the second gas can in the bed beside the first. # Brad and Thad Lane, each on an ATV with custom paint jobs and extra-large wheels, cut across the pasture from their picturesque home on the hill above the expansive farm owned by the Lane family. They often rode late at night when they could sneak out without waking their mother, Gladys. She was a heavy sleeper, as the pure of heart often are, but she was still a protective mother and didn’t like the twins roaming the acreage in the dark. Brad, the larger of the two, now shirtless, and already tan, played defensive end on the local high school football team, the Giddings Buffaloes. Thad, three minutes younger, wearing a white wife-beater undershirt, played tight end and was the more talented of the two. He was often compared to Travis Kelce because he was fast and often carried the ball in for the team’s touchdowns under Friday night lights, a Texas passion. Riding around the family farm was not an issue for the seventeen-year-olds, even at night. They knew every inch of the family property, as they’d been using it as their personal playground since they could walk. They had certain hiding places for their special crops. Not marijuana, there was plenty of that. Their secret was growing small patches of maize or clover near their bird blinds so they could enjoy a good season of dove hunting in the fall. It was called baiting, and was illegal, but this was their land, and they didn’t follow many rules once they entered the gate to the property they called home. The twins cut low into a narrow creek bed caused by hundreds of years of rain runoff, then peaked again at the top of a low mound overlooking the growing fields. From their vantage point atop the rise, Brad spied a solitary figure below, near the county road, his movements casting eerie shadows against the moonlit landscape. Brad’s brow furrowed in confusion as he pointed out the intruder to his brother. “Who is that?” Thad’s eyes narrowed as he squinted into the darkness, his instincts going on high alert. “Don’t think I know him. What the hell is he doing?” They watched the intruder move further onto the country road, then recede, taking a squarish object that appear to be a gas can with him. The man placed the can in the back of a pickup and returned to the edge of the field. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and just as he was about to thumb the heel, the twins came tearing down the rise, bearing down on the intruder on their ATV’s, while shouting obscenities. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “This is private property, Asshole.” At that moment, Prince thumbed the wheel, sparking the flint, and tossed the flaming Zippo, lighting up the edge of the field. The fire caught and expanded flaring toward the twins. They zigged and zagged, skirting the field and avoiding the flames by driving through a wet creek at the edge of the heat. Marijuana smoke puffed out of the burning field and then the greenhouse, the plants expelling gases that smelled sweet and exotic. Prince moved back toward his pickup, placing his right hand in his pocket and grabbing his keys to expedite his exit. He moved quickly, but the twins were quicker. Thad bounded his ATV up out of the creek bed and headed straight for Prince. Thad knocked Prince down with the front bumper, and Brad came charging up behind Thad. Prince pulled himself up, dropping his truck keys in the onslaught, and picked up a large limb that had fallen from a nearby oak. He swung it over and caught Brad across the chest with the heavy weapon before Brad could come to a complete halt, knocking him from the ATV. The machine continued into the roadbed and across to the neighboring fence, where it was caught by barbed wire and abruptly died. Thad did a wheelie in the road, turned back, stopped his ATV, and jumped off to help his brother. While he was bending over Brad, Prince came up behind him and slammed the same offending tree limb into the back of Thad’s head, knocking him out cold. Prince went down again as his right leg gave way from the injury caused by Brad’s ATV. Prince got up, limped nearer to the twins, and hit them again, although they were both already unconscious. “Stay down.” Prince sat down on a nearby rock outcropping to catch his breath and assess the situation. The fire popped and flared as he watched and listened for fire trucks that might have been dispatched. The two young men had seen his face and his truck. He could not risk their exposing him or his employer to scrutiny. Feeling the urgency to leave the scene of his crime, he made a decision. He limped back over to the bodies and dragged each twin in turn to the edge of the flames, leaving first Brad, and then Thad to be consumed by the fire. Prince then returned to his truck, but when he put his hand in his pocket to fetch his keys, there was nothing there. It was only then that he remembered dropping them when the first boy’s ATV had taken him down. He limped back to the area where he had been hit and searched the leaves, grass, and waning Bluebonnets with the flashlight on his phone. His search was in vain, and when he heard the siren of an approaching fire truck, and the grinding sound of another ATV coming closer from the direction of the farmhouse, he jumped into his truck and jerked the wires from beneath the dashboard. He hot-wired the engine, and it sparked and sputtered to a start. Prince threw gravel on his exit from the roadside and headed down the county road, leaving a trail of white caliche dust to mingle with the smoke from the burning field. *** Excerpt from Killer Weed by Manning Wolfe. Copyright 2024 by Manning Wolfe. Reproduced with permission from Manning Wolfe. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Manning Wolfe:

.

Manning Wolfe

MANNING WOLFE, an award-winning author and attorney residing in Austin, Texas, writes cinematic-style, smart, fast-paced thrillers and crime fiction. Manning was recently featured on Oxygen TV’s: Accident, Suicide, or Murder. * Manning’s legal thriller series features Austin attorney Merit Bridges, including Dollar Signs, Music Notes, Green Fees, and Chinese Wall. * Manning’s new Proxy Legal Thriller Series features Houston attorney Quinton Bell and includes: Dead By Proxy, Hunted By Proxy, and Alive By Proxy. * Manning is co-author of Killer Set: Drop the Mic, and twelve additional Bullet Book Speed Reads. As a graduate of Rice University and the University of Texas School of Law, Manning’s experience has given her a voyeur’s peek into some shady characters’ lives and a front-row seat to watch the good people who stand against them.

Catch Up With Manning Wolfe: ManningWolfe.com Goodreads BookBub – @ManningWolfe Instagram – @manningwolfe TikTok – @manningwolfe Pinterest – @manningwolfe Twitter/X – @ManningWolfe Facebook – @manning.wolfe

 

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!  

 

Join In for YOUR Chance to WIN:

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

 

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

 

~~~~~

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.

.

Turning thirty can be murder!

.

.

Scooping Up Scandal

.

Little Dog Diner Book 7

.

by Emmie Lyn

.

Genre: Cozy Mystery

.

.

Turning thirty can be murder!

.

When a body is discovered next to the Little Dog Diner on her milestone
birthday, Dani Mackenzie finds herself scooping up a scandal instead
of cutting cake.

.

The prime suspect is the new owner of the Blueberry Bay Grapevine, but
the victim’s stepbrother and ex-girlfriend also have means, motive,
and opportunity.

.

With this trio of suspects, it will take a good nose to uncover whodunnit.
At least Dani has her best friend—her Jack Russell, Pip—at her
side to help sniff out the killer! But in the meantime, her kick-off
to her thirties is turning into more of an upside-down cake than a
celebration as she uncovers money, a business scandal, and thwarted
love at the core of this crime.

.

It will take the victim’s black Labrador and finding a winning lottery
ticket to solve this mystery, but Dani never throws in the towel.
Will she and Pip once again use their experience at solving mysteries
to bring justice to Misty Harbor, Maine, or will they be caught in
the crosshairs of the killer?

Amazon
* Bookbub
* Goodreads

.

.

My day off wasn’t supposed to start with a phone call startling me half to death. But it did.

I fumbled on the nightstand to silence my ringing phone even before my sleep-deprived brain surfaced through the fog.

“Hello?” I mumbled. The time blinked 5:30 on my watch. Really? Who was making calls at that hour? If I’d been fully awake, I would have checked the caller ID. But you know how it is. I reacted before thinking when caught by surprise. Or when aroused from a deep sleep. Oh, well. Too late to hang up and go back to dreamland. Because an unintelligible whisper came through the phone. Creepy.

Awake now and heart pounding from the unknown, I scooched up against the headboard until I was sitting up straight. Was this a crank call before the sun was barely above Maine’s Blueberry Bay? So much for sleeping in on the one day my Little Dog Diner was closed.

Pip, my Jack Russell terrier, looked at me with her head cocked as if asking what was going on? I had no more of a clue than she did.

I heard my name coming through the phone. “Dani? Dani Mackenzie?” The caller seemed confused as if she wasn’t sure she had the right number.

At first, I didn’t recognize the voice.

“Uh-huh?” I said, wishing I’d let it go to voicemail.

With my husband Luke out of town for a few days, I knew this wasn’t his deep, rumbling tone, so I was ready to hang up when I realized he wasn’t calling with some kind of emergency.

But then I heard, “It’s Cam. Camilla Carter?” Finally, a name to go with the mystery caller. “The Blueberry Bay Grapevine? I hope I didn’t wake you,” she said low.

Why the whisper, I wondered. Was she afraid she’d wake the rest of the neighborhood?

Just then, Pip pushed her head under my arm and knocked the phone loose. When I grabbed it, I hit the speaker button, absently scratching under her ear. Of course, Pip leaned in for more love from me, at the same time Cam’s breathing startled me, amplified now and suddenly sounding like a buzzsaw.

“I’m awake,” I said, hearing the annoyance in my voice.

“I’m really sorry, Dani.” Cam paused. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

Fair enough, I thought, but her apology did little to soothe my irritation.

“What’s wrong, Cam?” I asked, hoping it was something simple like she’d locked herself out of her office and hoped I had a spare key. I did unless she’d changed the locks. Cam had just bought the weekly Grapevine newspaper from my grandmother, Rose Mackenzie. She’d moved into an apartment over the paper in a building next door to my diner and hadn’t made many friends yet. So, this early morning phone call made sense.

But when she hadn’t broken the silence on her end of the phone, I sat up a bit straighter, curious. “Cam? Are you okay?”

She whispered, “It looks like someone’s trying to break into your diner.”

That got my attention. “Call the police, Cam. I’m on my way.”

.

.

**Don’t miss the rest of the Little Dog Diner Series!**

.

 

.

 

Find them on Amazon!

.

.

Emmie Lyn grew up in a small town in
New England, much like the towns where her female characters
live—scenic, quaint and filled with colorful characters. She loves
to create mysteries with twists and unexpected turns that draw
readers in and capture their imagination.

.

Emmie lives in rural Massachusetts with her husband, a rescue terrier, and
a black cat with a bad attitude. She shares twelve acres with a wide
variety of wildlife including deer, bunnies, turkeys, and many
songbirds. When she’s not busy thinking of ways to kill off a
character (for a book, of course!) she enjoys a cup of tea and
chocolate in her flower garden, hiking, or spending time near the
ocean.

.

Website
* Facebook
*Instagram *
Bookbub *
Amazon
* Goodreads

.

.

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

.

.

~~~~~

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.

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Heart & Soul organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Toby Negus will award a $10 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

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

Heart & Soul

by Toby Negus

 

 

Genre: Lyrical Inspirational Prose

Synopsis

Truths beautifully expressed

Toby Negus, author and illustrator of The Heart Knows What the Mind Cannot See, has created a collection of lyrical inspirational prose messages coupled with colorful and mesmerizing symbolic illustrations that speak to the soul.

The author has continued his exploration of the most transformational psychospiritual concepts that lie deeply within all humans, bringing the wisdom of heart and soul into the light for our minds to connect with and grow from. He weaves his messages through a variety of topics, including love, freedom, choice, truth, self-awareness, the now moment, healing, peace, and most importantly, the role of the heart and soul in enlightening humanity’s journey on Planet Earth. Connections are made among these concepts to help readers make the same connections in order to find peace in their own lives.

As an artist, the author takes his ethereal subject matter, fuses it with the colors and shapes presented by his own spiritual muse, and gives the reader a visceral inner transformation through symbol, intense color, and cosmic shape.

Heart and Soul creates a deep and beautiful immersion for the reader into their own heart’s beautiful depths.

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

What’s love got to do with it?

Everything!

Without love, hope has no home, courage no direction, and fortitude no purpose. It is why we dance and why we give. It brings meaning to life; for without love there is no colour, no passion, and no joy.

Its presence can sustain us through the darkest hours and the wildest storms. It calms the troubled mind and mends the broken heart.

Our love gives us strength for a leap of faith, a trust in life, a wish for tomorrow, and a living of the day. It is why we will always try again, to lift ourselves up and be what we love. And when we do this, when we renew ourselves with some act of love, we are as Creation, and Creation lives because of it.

What’s love got to do with it?

Love is why we live.

~~~~~

About Author Toby Negus:

.

Toby Negus is an artist, both with paints and of the spirit. His work reflects a deep commitment to meeting life on its terms and an equally deep understanding of human nature.

Toby has studied and taught spiritual and personal development in the UK and around the world for over two decades. He is qualified in advanced counselling, as a life coach and as a Cognitive Behaviour therapist. He is an Amazon best-selling author of a collaborative Conscious Creators book and has illustrated and self published two books on the subject of self-awareness and the spiritual journey. He has articles published in national magazine and has given talks and run workshops in support of his published work within the UK.

In the last few years, he has created many pieces of artwork that are a reflection of his spiritual journey. These have appeared in magazines and have been exhibited in the UK.

Author Links: Website / email / YouTube / Facebook

Amazon Author Page / Twitter / Instagram

Purchase Link: Amazon 

~~~~~

Giveaway contest ribbon promo label prize. Vector giveaway banner badge design template

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

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.

.

  Ron’s journey is met with life-affirming friendships and lessons along the way.

.

.

Exiles

.

Reflections of Michael Trilogy Book 3

.

by L.J. Ambrosio

.

Genre: Contemporary Fiction, Coming of Age

.

.

 In this final book in the Reflections of Michael Trilogy, Michael’s
wish was for Ron to exile himself in the heart of Paris with its
beautiful culture and citizens as they protest and fight for the soul
of the city. Ron’s journey is met with life-affirming friendships and
lessons along the way.

.

A story that began with A
Reservoir Man
, and continued in Reflections on the Boulevard,
concludes with this final book, Exiles.

.

What readers are saying:

.

Each character
Ron meets during his personal journey is unique, and they all feel
like real people, something Ambrosio has proven time and again is a
strength of his. If you enjoy literary fiction with an epic personal
journey woven through the pages, then you need to read this trilogy.”
– Amazon Review

.

This book,
like the ones before it, evokes a range of emotions—laughter, fear,
excitement, wonder, and grief. Ambrosio’s ability to weave these
feelings into the narrative is what makes the trilogy so special.”
– Amazon Review

.

Exiles is a
brilliant book that will leave you spellbound with its emotional
payoff. Author Ambrosio’s finale to the Reflections of Michael
Trilogy is a must-read for anyone who appreciates literary fiction
that speaks to the soul.” – Goodreads Review

.

Amazon
* Apple
* B&N
* Kobo *
Other
Links
* Bookbub
* Goodreads

.

.

CHAPTER ONE

 

A cool autumn breeze, in the twilight, wrapped around our exile who sat on a bench in front of a bookstore that resembled a place we might find in a Tolkien novel. On this street, rue de la Buccheri, was the bookstore Shakespeare and Company. The store itself was famous for housing the books of many great literary artists on their shelves. They also supported any young or old artistic vagabonds by allowing them to sleep in the aisles of the bookstore on makeshift beds when finding themselves homeless.

Ron, who managed the store, sat on this bench every evening thinking of Michael. Ron thought of things he remembered and how much he learnt from Michael. He felt the emptiness in his soul, yearning to have that connection just one more time. He had lived in Paris for six years now, a brief time for an exile, yet he was free from a society drowning in untruths; his refuge was the bookstore.

Just like every night, as Ron prepared to close the store, he occasionally checked the front of the store, looking for his friend. Then, he noticed another young man still looking at books on the outside shelves.

Ron moved outside to get a closer look at the late customer under the guise of moving the outdoor book bins back inside. He suddenly noticed that the young man was putting a book down his pants.

Ron raised his voice and shouted for the thief to put the book back on the shelf. The young man, caught in the act, ran away.

The young man sprinted and tripped while running past the café. In this stumble, he decided to turn the corner and make his way rapidly toward la Seine.

Ron, weak in the legs from forgetting the spirit of his youth, had been managing bookstores more than living life. His legs pumped forward. but with the awkwardness of an old man who had forgotten how to walk. In a few seconds he was up to speed and ran faster to catch the thief.

Near the corner, Ron had missed his opportunity to slow and check for other people walking, so he slammed into a group of women. He especially blasted into an old lady whose groceries flew into the sky, and a yogurt splattered against a wall and the faces of the other women. She turned to condemn her assailant, but he was already on the next block in pursuit of the thief.

He spotted the thief at the Notre Dame Hotel, out of breath, leaning against a pillar. Surprised at the thief’s choice to stop here, he slowed down and let his feet pound the street into a halt.

Ron grabbed at him but still missed his shoulder.

“Give me the book back!” he said, very loudly.

The thief just shrugged his shoulder, a mocking smile. His smile made the act of chasing him through the streets feel silly, as if this were a game that had been played and he took it too seriously.

The thief looked at Ron and asked, sarcastically, “What language are you speaking?”

“What do mean? I am speaking French!”

Our thief laughed, turned to a random man who walked down the street, and said, “This young man thinks he is speaking French Go ahead say something to this stranger; he will tell you are speaking some other language other than French!”

“I will call the police,” Ron said firmly.

.

 

 

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

.

 

.

A Reservoir Man

.

Reflections of Michael Trilogy Book 1

.

Find links on the Author’s Site

.

Reflections on the Boulevard

.

Reflections of Michael Trilogy Book 2

.

Find links on the Author’s Site

.

.

 Louis J. Ambrosio ran one of the most nurturing bi-coastal talent
agencies in Los Angeles and New York. He started his career as a
theatrical producer, running two major regional theaters for eight
seasons. Ambrosio taught at 7 Universities. Ambrosio also
distinguished himself as an award-winning film producer and novelist
over the course of his impressive career.

.

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

.

.

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

.

 

 

.

Enter to win  a Dragonfly Necklace – 2 winners.

.

A Print Copy of Exiles – 2 winners.

.

A $20 Amazon giftcard – 1 winner!

.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

.

.

~~~~~

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.

.

 

Meet Rue Channing. She’s just the witch to finish what her ancestors started.

.

.

Rue the Slay

.

Laurel Haven Witches Book 1

.

by ReGina Welling

.

Genre: Paranormal Women’s Fiction

.

.

 

 Three hundred years ago, four

.
witches went into the forest to cast a spell of protection against

.
the evil creeping into their town but they were too late.

.

Today, Rue Channing never sees it coming, and she should because seeing is
her special power. Still, who would have expected to be kidnapped and
hauled off to a small coastal town in Maine?

.

But that is exactly what happened. Now, Rue, a lover of order and strict
routines, is dragged out of her comfort zone and into a new life in
the small, coastal town of Laurel Haven.

.

Things could not be worse, she thinks, until she meets the man next door and decides
they could. Ry McFadden is the most infuriating man on the planet.
He’s a study in contrasts; grumpy yet generous, intensely private,
but somehow open. Rue can’t think what to do with him, except she
can, and that just makes things worse.

.

The problem is, Ry McFadden just might be part of Rue’s destiny as she learns she’s
been brought to Laurel Haven to finish what her ancestors started.

.

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

.

 

.

.

“Excuse me. I don’t think that area’s for paying customers.”

The man’s voice sounded like Alan Rickman and Benedict Cumberbatch had a baby but without the British accent. He could read me a bedtime story, Rue thought as the deep tones shivered across the air.

“No worries. I’m not planning to pay for anything.”

“Get back here,” he called out when she took another step.

Dismissing that, Rue waggled her fingers over one shoulder but kept going and caught Tansy pulling another sheet of cookies out of a professional oven that Rue knew damn well she couldn’t afford. How much debt had Tansy racked up in a single morning?

Still, the scents of sugar and butter set Rue’s stomach grumbling. “You’re hired if you want the job. I have no idea how to run a bookstore, but if you stay on, I guess we’ll figure it out between us, so I’d like to make it official. Providing we don’t go out of business in a week because I can’t afford the stock or that stove. Or the ingredients in those cookies come to that.”

Grinning—did the woman ever not smile?—Tansy did a little two-step, bobbled the cookie sheet, then set it on the stainless worktable. “Not to worry. We’ll talk about the finances later.” With practiced speed, she transferred warm cookies to a lined display tray. “I have a customer waiting for these.” Picking up the tray, Tansy headed out, leaving Rue to follow.

“You mean Mr. Grumpy?” She kept her voice low since Tansy was nearly out of hearing distance anyway. The woman moved like lightning.

“They’re still warm,” Tansy was saying when Rue came up behind her. “You came in at just the right time.”

Mr. Grumpy turned a million-watt smile on her and accepted the cookie Tansy offered, but his expression hardened when he turned toward Rue. “I’m not sure how they do things where you’re from, but in Laurel Haven, customers know enough to stay on this side of the counter.”

“Oh, but—“

Rue cut Tansy off. “I’m glad to hear it, but I believe I’ve already mentioned I’m not a customer. My name is Rue, and this is my shop, so if it’s okay with you, I’ll go anywhere I please.”

“You’re one of…them.” He nodded toward Tansy. “That explains some things.” His hazel eyes searched her face as if looking for validation of something she didn’t quite understand. He offered his hand when she came out from behind the pastry case. Steeling herself for what she might see, Rue took it. It wouldn’t bode well for her business if she ran off potential customers. Even ones like him.

The vision of him armed with a sword, his eyes blazing black, and riding a dark horse through misty woods slid across Rue’s mind, bringing with it a bone-deep sense of recognition. Here was the figure that had haunted her most romantic dreams come to life.

“I suppose I am,” she said.

“Then, I guess I’m your new neighbor. I live upstairs.”

“You have more than that in common.” After popping two cookies in a bag, Tansy joined them.

“I can’t imagine what,” Rue muttered. This man was clearly an outlaw of some sort. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have seen what she’d seen. He certainly looked the part with dark hair falling recklessly over his furrowed brow, eyes narrowed, and lips that might have been kissable if they weren’t set in a stern line. Even annoyed, Rue had to admit, he packed a hell of a punch.

He wasn’t Rue’s type at all. Not one little bit.

Grinning, Tansy made the introductions by pointing and naming them in turn. “Ry. Rue.”

Okay, now Rue understood. They lived in the same building and had names that sounded sort of similar. As far as common ground went, she figured theirs was roughly the size of a postage stamp. The man put her hackles up even when he wasn’t talking.

“Ry?” she said, unable to help herself. “What’s that short for? Wait, let me guess. It’s Ryder, right?” A wicked smile tugged at her lips. “Ryder…Storm. That’s it, isn’t it? Or maybe it’s Ryder Strong. Either one sounds like the perfect name for an urban cowboy with a hero complex.”

Where had that come from? Rue considered herself a circumspect woman, but everything about this day brought out the worst side of her tongue.

“The name’s McFadden, ma’am,” he drawled and tucked his thumbs into his belt. “Ryland McFadden at your service, but you can go ahead and call me Ryder if it helps you feel better.” He cocked his head to the side. “What’s Rue short for? Wait. Let me guess. It’s Rudella, isn’t it? Like Cinderella, only meaner.”

.

.

.

ReGina Welling prefers not to talk about herself in the third person so…

.

I live in Maine with my husband, a silly flufferpup named Dash, and a
crazy cat named Cricket. I write full time and also create mixed
media artwork when I get the chance.

.

When I was three, my mom brought home a new book and when she went to read
it to me, I read it to her instead. That was when she realized I’d
learned to read. Since then I couldn’t even estimate the number of
books I’ve read. It’s a lot!

.

I love talking to other readers so please visit me in any one of these
various places and don’t forget to let me know you stopped by!

.

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

.

.

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

.

 

.

~~~~~

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.

.

Murder at Mistlethwaite Manor
by AJ Skelly

 

Murder at Mistlethwaite Manor
Historical Cozy Mystery 
Setting –  Mistlethwaite Manor, Christmastime, in 1895 England
Publisher ‏ : ‎ Quill & Flame Publishing House (June 26, 2024)
Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 252 pages
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1957899786
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1957899787
Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0D2VJKH2B

.

Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None meets The Gilded Age in this delicious, suspenseful murder mystery.

When Lady Emma Grace Hastings receives a much-coveted invitation to the most auspicious Christmas party of the season—one that comes with a 10,000 pound prize for the winner of a mysterious game—she cannot believe her good fortune.

But as the guests are assembled at Mistlethwaite Manor, the chilling intent of the game is revealed. Each guest has cause for alarm, because all of them have secrets, and to win the prize money, those secrets must be exposed.

Things take a sinister turn when Emma Grace finds herself caught between her old love and her soon-to-be betrothed. Suspicions abound, and old wounds are opened. The dead body in the study does not help. Nor does the raging winter storm that prevents escape from the manor. Emma Grace must battle her heart, use her wits, and put her sleuthing skills to the test to survive the weekend alive.

Because there is a murderer among them.

And no one with secrets is safe.

.

About AJ Skelly

AJ Skelly is an author, reader, and lover of all things fantasy, mystery, and fairy-tale-romance. And werewolves. She has a serious soft spot for them. As an avid life-long reader and a former high school English teacher, she’s always been fascinated with the written word. She lives with her husband, children, and many imaginary friends who often find their way into her stories. They all drink copious amounts of tea together and stay up reading far later than they should.

You can read more of her short stories at www.ajskelly.com.

Author Links: Website / Instagram / Facebook

Purchase Links – AmazonB&NBookshop.org

~~~~~

Giveaway contest ribbon promo label prize. Vector giveaway banner badge design template

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

 TOUR PARTICIPANTS

July 29 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – SPOTLIGHT

July 29 – Maureen’s Musings – SPOTLIGHT

July 30 – Ruff Drafts – CHARACTER  GUEST POST

July 30 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT

July 31 – Reading Is My SuperPower – REVIEW

July 31 – Celticlady’s Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

August 1 – Christy’s Cozy Corners – REVIEW, AUTHOR GUEST POST

August 1 – MJB Reviewers – SPOTLIGHT

August 2 – Cozy Up With Kathy – REVIEW, AUTHOR INTERVIEW

August 2 – Elizabeth McKenna – Author – SPOTLIGHT

August 3 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

August 4 – Lady Hawkeye – SPOTLIGHT

August 5 – The Editing Pen – AUTHOR GUEST POST

August 5 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

August 6 – Literary Gold – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

August 7 – Novels Alive – REVIEW

August 8 – Sarah Can’t Stop Reading Books – REVIEW

August 9 – Ascroft, eh? – CHARACTER GUEST POST

August 10 – Bigreadersite – REVIEW  

August 10 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – AUTHOR GUEST POST

August 11 – Boys’ Mom Reads! – REVIEW

.

.

~~~~~

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.

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

Author January Bain will award a $25 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

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

Death Secrets

by January Bain

 

 

Genre: Crime Thriller

Synopsis

A gripping thriller that explores the lengths one will go to for family, and the resilience needed to stand against the darkness.

In the shadow of Alaska’s towering peaks, Anna Hale is haunted by a past painted in flames and betrayal. Marked by the tragic death of her mother and the scars of a childhood marred by violence, Anna has fought tirelessly to build a semblance of normalcy, only to have it shattered again and again. The latest blow comes when her sister, Tia Pace, vanishes without a trace, reigniting old wounds and casting Anna into a nightmare where she’s the prime suspect.

As she grapples with her stepfather’s execution and the weight of suspicion, another crisis looms: Zoe Pace, her other sister, has disappeared in an eerily similar manner. The only clue a sinister black rose and a chilling letter. When her brother Josh, now a dedicated cop in the Anchor Police Department, begs for her assistance, Anna is pulled back into the fray. Despite the agony of reopening old wounds, she embarks on a desperate quest to unravel the mystery of her sisters’ disappearances.

Faced with the unforgiving Alaskan frontier, Anna must confront a tangled web of corruption and deceit, with a copycat killer moving in the shadows. With every tick of the clock, Anna’s hope for a normal life slips further away, but her resolve to find her sisters and bring them home burns fiercer than ever. Will Anna’s journey through the cold, dark paths of Alaska lead her to her sisters, or will she find herself lost in the depths of a conspiracy that threatens to consume everything she holds dear?

Dive into this chilling tale of loss, courage, and the relentless pursuit of justice against the backdrop of Alaska’s unforgiving wilderness. Order your copy now.

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

Anna Hale cranked up the volume on her headphones, desperate to study for her high school English exam scheduled for the morning, but the hypnotic beat couldn’t mask the loathed voice of her stepfather growing louder by the second.

“You whore! Sneaking around and giving me those pious looks. You don’t think I don’t know better. I should throw you out right now, you and your bitch of a daughter!”

The soft sounds of her mother trying to pacify him were indistinct, impossible for her to hear.

Pass out already, old man.

She tried forcing her mind on the textbook, but the lines of printing blurred, making it hard to concentrate. If the subject at hand was a math or science quiz, she’d ace both without much effort. And that one computer module they’d had this semester had fascinated her. She yearned for a career in data processing, discovering all the secrets. That was if she got a choice. Her stepfather was threatening to make her leave school early to help bring more money into the household. She rolled her eyes in disgust. The guy just couldn’t hold down a job. Never his fault, like his shitty attitude wasn’t a factor. Or that his breath so often stank of booze, and his body of stale sweat.

The conversation from earlier between her and her mom bothered her like a harbinger of things to come, making it harder to focus. “I’ve made arrangements. If anything happens to me—go next door. Alex and Cindy Pace will look after you. And you get along so well with Josh and the twins.”

Her mom had talked over Anna’s every denial of anything ever happening to her. Anna was going to keep her mom safe. Learn karate or something badass at the gym to give her the upper hand. But her mom had made her promise and she had gone along with it. Anna didn’t want her mom worrying more than she already did, not that she wouldn’t stay and help her if worst came to worst. She’d never desert her mom. They had to stick together, no matter what.

Another loud series of barks drew her attention away from her favorite daydream of getting a high-paying job, of taking her mother far, far away. She’d also warned her to stay out of it, that her stepfather couldn’t help himself having to work at a job he hated, but Anna’s stomach churned with the effort. She wiped her damp palms on her patched jeans, straining to hear, the test long forgotten.

A loud crashing sound of something falling erupted downstairs. She dumped the headset and jumped off the bed, then raced down the narrow staircase in her sock feet, her pulse hammering in her ears, her head about to explode. She rounded the sharp corner that composed the L-shaped kitchen and living room, the clean but faded linoleum with most of the square-shaped pattern worn down to gray splotches, slippery beneath her feet. Her disgusting bear of a stepfather stood over her mom, his meaty fists raised like a boxer, his pugnacious face darkened by raw hatred.

~~~~~

About Author January Bain:

January Bain is an award-winning author who firmly believes that stories unite us, that good stories help us to discover the commonality of the human experience by supporting values, empathy and understanding. She writes with her heart, mind, and soul, hoping that her novels will touch your life, giving you moments of freedom as you fly with her to other worlds.

Bain has had the pleasure of select novels being turned into games, and her work is also available in different languages.

January and her husband live in rural Canada on peaceful acreage where a variety of wildlife comes to visit regularly and expect to be fed and paid attention to.

Author Links: Blog / Twitter / Facebook / Facebook / Goodreads / Instagram / TikTok

~~~~~

Giveaway contest ribbon promo label prize. Vector giveaway banner badge design template

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

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.

Death in St. George's by M. A. Monnin Banner

DEATH IN ST. GEORGE’S
by M. A. Monnin
July 29 – August 23, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
The Intrepid Traveler Mystery series

  When Stefanie and Thomas meet in Bermuda for time alone away from the demands of the Artifact Retrieval Team that Thomas heads, their romantic rendezvous is waylaid after an archaeologist requests their help to recover an emerald bracelet that’s been stolen from his site. Thomas is reluctant, but Stefanie can’t resist the lure of buried Spanish treasure. Then one of the archaeologists is murdered, and they find themselves on the suspect list. Spanish gold isn’t the only thing uncovered. Secrets can be deadly, and Stefanie and Thomas must find the killer before it’s too late.

Praise for Death in St. George’s:

“Monnin’s story has echoes of Agatha Christie’s work, making the most of a large group of suspects and red herrings galore.” ~ Kirkus Reviews

Death in St. George’s, the third in M. A. Monnin’s Intrepid Traveler Mystery series, will treat readers to the sensory pleasures of the subtropics while dipping their toes in danger. Monnin’s writing is as crisp and sensual as fresh ironed linen. Readers are in for a delight and will hop on board wherever Stefanie travels.” ~ Sara E. Johnson, Author of the Alexa Glock Forensics Mysteries

“What a treat! Memorable characters, a tropical setting, and intricate plotting. A binge-worthy read!” ~ Joan Long, Agatha Award-nominated author of THE FINALIST

“A charming mystery with twists I didn’t see coming, Death in St. George’s is a treasure in itself.” ~ Jules Parker, Wild Rose Press author

“A contemporary cozy with the timeless charm of a classic whodunnit, Death in St. George’s feels like a refreshing rum swizzle on a warm Bermuda evening. Archaeology and mystery buffs alike will root for Stephanie and Thomas as they unravel two intertwined mysteries—one archaeological, one modern.” ~ Megaera Lorenz, author of The Shabti

“Murder, romance, a splendid setting, engaging characters, buried treasure… M.A. Monnin’s latest mystery has them all, and may just be her best and most engrossing novel yet.” ~ Tom Mead, author of Death and the Conjuror and The Murder Wheel

Book Details:

Genre: Traditional Mystery

Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: May 14, 2024 Number of Pages: 264 ISBN: 9781685126483 (ISBN10: 1685126480) Series: An Intrepid Traveler Mystery Series, Book 3

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

Enjoy this peek inside:
Chapter 1
“I don’t believe you’re the kind of woman who craves peace and quiet,” Thomas said, holding Stefanie’s hand in the back seat of the taxi. His handsome face melted her heart yet again. She drank in the welcome sight of him, from the strong jaw beneath the stubble of a beard to his chestnut brown hair. The sun-bleached streaks she’d teased him about in Greece would return after a week in Bermuda, she’d bet.

Having arrived in Bermuda earlier in the day, she’d met him at the airport, and they were on the way to rent a car in the Town of St. George.

“A week alone sounds blissful to me,” she countered. “No trying to discover who ran us off the road in Crete or chasing after Borgia Peacocks in Venice.” And no former girlfriends, she thought. But she’d learned enough to not say that aloud. “No calls from René.”

“René knows that I am not taking his calls for a full week,” Thomas said.

René Renault, his boss, and therefore ultimately hers at Interpol’s Cultural Heritage division, didn’t willingly recognize personal time. Thomas, as the head of Interpol’s Artifact Retrieval Team—ART for short—could dictate his own projects. So far their time together had been a non-stop whirlwind of undercover investigation in an effort to reclaim stolen objects that had been reported to Interpol. A little downtime was in order. “We could lock our cell phones in our suitcases until next Monday,” she suggested. He smiled. “Is that really what you want?” What she really wanted was to decide on their future living situation. There was no question that they would be together. But would she move in with him at his place in Munich? Or keep her apartment in St. Louis and fly to Europe when she couldn’t bear to be apart from him any longer? Asking so soon might go to his head, and she couldn’t have that. The taxi driver took a sharp curve a little too fast, then swung in to avoid a red scooter speeding from the opposite direction whose driver drove as though both lanes were his. Stefanie shared a smile with Thomas as they listed from one side to the other with the motion of the taxi. “I suppose we need the phones to look up places to explore,” she said. “And I need photos for my travel blog.” That reminded her to take in the sights, something other than Thomas. She tore her gaze away from him, but kept her hand in his. The streets of St. George’s were narrow, barely wide enough for two lanes, and in some places, not even wide enough for that. Low garden walls butted right up against the road. Sidewalks, where they existed at all, fit snugly between the road and the series of one- and two-storied houses. Most of the houses were small and compact, as if hunkered down for impending storms. “These buildings have been here since the 1690s or early 1700s,” she said, charmed by their low profiles and the wooden shutters that adorned nearly every structure. In no time at all, the taxi driver pulled up to the car rental. As he paid the driver, Thomas’s face blanked in disbelief at the tiny electric cars lined up for rent. “The bigger cars must be in back,” he said, taking his black leather bag, his only piece of luggage, out of the open Ford trunk. The taxi driver grinned. “Not in Bermuda. It’s the law. Tourists can only rent scooters or electric cars.” Still grinning, he gave Thomas a business card. “Call me if you want me to take you anywhere.” When Thomas’s gaze brightened on the row of scooters,Stefanie protested. “No scooters,” she insisted. “I’ve seen how people drive here. Driving on the left will be challenging enough.” “No problem,” Thomas said. “I’ve driven in England.” He bypassed the Twizy models, which had a single seat in front and a single seat in back. “I want you at my side,” he said. “Not behind me.” “Or you behind me,” she countered. His mouth quirked up. “That would not happen.” Oh, how she missed the little games they played. It had only been a week since they’d parted at the Milan airport, but those seven days felt like a year. After inspecting several small, square Italian Tazzaris, which had two front seats, Thomas grudgingly chose one in red. “I didn’t think I’d be driving a toy car,” he said as they folded themselves into the Tazzari. She laughed. “Admit it, you’ve always wanted a red Italian car.” She buckled her seatbelt with difficulty due to his leather duffle on her lap, which was too large to cram into the minuscule storage space behind their seats. Resting her arms across the duffle, she entered their address into the GPS on her phone. “We’re lucky Greg wasn’t using his house this week. A whole house to ourselves is so much nicer than even the best hotel.” Her former bank client, Greg Edwards, had often urged her to stay at the house whenever she wanted. Greg, the dedicated owner of Riverboat Rum based in St. Louis, only made it to Bermuda occasionally. Usually when corporate finances and Bermudian law dictated. The bungalow stood on a cliff on the outskirts of the historic Town of St. George. Painted peach, the two-bedroom cottage had an intimate covered patio at the rear that faced the glassy Atlantic—a perfect place to write her travel blog and enjoy the sun. Thomas’s claim about driving on the left was justified. He had no problem acclimating, and in short order, they’d gone the less than a mile to Greg’s house. After changing into swimsuits to lounge in the warm Bermuda sunshine, Thomas poured them each a glass of pinot grigio, and they settled onto the chaise lounges in the backyard. The smoky scent of a neighbor’s wood fire mixed pleasantly with the tang of sea air. Stefanie glanced around the yard and patio for a fire pit they could use but didn’t see one. “Bermuda is more colorful than I expected.” Thomas’s gaze went from the low wall painted to match the peach house color to the neighboring bright blue cottage beyond, with its white stepped stone roof. He shifted his gaze from the neighbor’s house to her. “The view is stunning.” She smiled and set her wine on the small metal table between them. “Just you and me,” Thomas said. “Alone.” “Alone,” she agreed. “With our peace and quiet. But you never know,” she teased, “maybe it was the adventure that drew us together.” Swinging his legs off the chaise lounge, he sat up with his feet planted firmly in the grass and took her hand. “Is that all?” No, but Thomas found the excitement of the chase irresistible. She smiled as he massaged her palm with his thumb, but didn’t move closer to make it easier for him. Keeping him on his toes was delightfully entertaining, something that he enjoyed as much as she did. “Where should we go tomorrow? A boat tour to spot sea turtles?” she asked. Still holding her hand, he said, “Let’s go snorkeling. Tobacco Bay. The fish and coral there are supposed to be worth seeing.” “I’ve never been snorkeling,” she admitted. “I planned to try it in Crete, but there wasn’t time. Have you?” “At the Great Barrier Reef.” Australia. That didn’t surprise her. As the son of the owner of Germany’s largest publishing firm, he’d probably gone all over the world and done all kinds of activities that she’d never tried. Never tried because she’d dedicated all her time to working at Markham-Briggs Bank. That wasn’t happening anymore. “There’s nothing to it,” Thomas said. “You’ll love it. And after we’ve done Tobacco Bay, we’ll snorkel above shipwrecks. Bermuda is surrounded by them. Until then,” he said, “I want you all to myself.” She gave in and swung around to a sitting position facing him. Bending forward, she lifted her lips toward his, stopping a breath away. “You have me.” A discreet throat-clearing intruded on their moment. It came from the direction of the blue house next door. Reluctantly, Stefanie pulled back. On the other side of the peach-colored wall, a thin man of about five foot eight or nine, tanned and with receding blond hair, peered at them from between two large palm trees. He’d changed from the sweat-stained blue polo and dusty dark grey knee-length shorts he’d worn when she’d met him two hours before and was dressed as colorfully as the houses in a pastel plaid shirt above coral Bermuda shorts. Stefanie hid her disappointment. “It’s Jeffrey Fitzsimmons,” she said in a low voice. “I picked up the keys from him when I got here this afternoon.” She scooted further back on the chaise lounge and slipped her arms through her linen cover-up. Chatting with neighbors while dressed only in a skimpy bikini put her at a disadvantage. “Good afternoon,” Jeffrey called to them. “Sorry, don’t mean to interrupt.” Thomas observed him without replying. “Good afternoon,” Stefanie called back as she stood up. Greg had cautioned her about always including a polite greeting when she visited Bermuda. “The locals are sticklers about common courtesy,” she told Thomas. “We’ll be outcasts if we forget that.” “Always the customer service vice president,” he remarked. “If I’d gotten that promotion,” she said, “we never would have met.” He leaned in and kissed her. “A tragedy averted.” She smiled, then glanced at the neighbor. “Jeffrey’s the kind who likes to talk. I had to make excuses so I could meet you at the airport in time. Luckily, the taxi was waiting.” She gave Thomas’s bicep a gentle squeeze. “We don’t want to get on his bad side. We might want to use this house as a getaway again.” “Neutral territory?” he asked. “Conveniently located between the U.S. and Europe?” “Something like that,” she said, then turned back to Jeffrey. The neighbor indicated the wall that separated the properties. “May I?” “Yes, of course,” Stefanie answered. Jeffrey stepped over the wall. He’d come prepared, bringing his own bottle of beer. There were only two chaise lounges, but two metal chairs at a small table against the house were available. Stefanie gestured toward them. She and Thomas dragged their lounges around to face the patio rather than the ocean. “Welcome to Bermuda,” Jeffrey said to Thomas. Thomas must have worried that the neighbor was settling in for an evening of conversation. “Thank you,” he replied. “We’ll be trying your local cuisine at dinner soon.” “Here on St. George’s Island? I can recommend places,” Jeffrey offered as he pulled out a pink metal chair. “The Wahoo Bistro has fantastic fish.” “Hamilton,” Thomas said, mentioning Bermuda’s capital city on the main island. Jeffrey nodded. “More nightlife there.” Thomas pointed a finger at Stefanie’s empty wine glass. “Another?” “Yes, please.” She turned back to the neighbor. “Do you live here yearround, or part-time, like Greg?” “Year round,” Jeffrey said. “I’m with the National Museum of Bermuda. The lead archaeologist.” “Are you?” She perked up. “Thomas has a degree in archaeology, and I once interned at a dig on Crete. I didn’t go into archaeology as a career, though.” “Oh, I know you’re in banking,” Jeffrey said. “Greg’s told me all about you.” Thomas caught that last piece of info as he returned with the half-empty bottle of pinot grigio. “Has he?” Thomas asked, filling Stefanie’s glass. She was surprised at that news, too, but didn’t clarify that she wasn’t in banking anymore. Her work with ART was confidential. “Yes.” Jeffrey turned back to Stefanie. “Greg told me about your involvement with the Akrotiri Snake Goddess in Greece.” Stefanie and Thomas exchanged glances. She hadn’t mentioned her part in it to any of her former colleagues at Markham-Briggs. In fact, other than those directly involved, she hadn’t even talked to anyone about the theft of the Akrotiri Snake Goddess. That had been left to the news media and whatever details the Greek police gave out. Thomas never boasted about his accomplishments. It was counterproductive to future cases. “Jeffrey’s an archaeologist here in Bermuda,” she told Thomas. The neighbor leaned forward, beer bottle in hand, elbows on knobby knees. “I’m hoping you can help me.” So he’d had something specific in mind when she brushed him off to get to the airport. With that news, Thomas seemed even less receptive to the intrusion. He concentrated on pouring wine into his own glass. “Yes?” Jeffrey gave him a brief smile but focused on Stefanie. “It’s your help I want.” Stefanie and Thomas exchanged another look, one of surprise that time and amusement. Thomas had put in the major investigative work in their endeavors. She’d simply used the customer service skills she’d learned at Markham-Briggs Bank to her advantage. Yet Jeffrey approached them because of her reputation, rather than Thomas’s stellar career. One point to her. His eyes bright with humor, Thomas lowered himself onto the chaise lounge. Sipping his wine, he let her have the spotlight. “My help?” Stefanie asked. “I’m not in banking anymore.” “Greg says you’re known for your discretion.” Jeffrey leaned even further towards them, sitting on the edge of his seat. “And from your time at the bank, that you have an eye for potential trouble.” You never knew what people would remember. She’d entertained Greg once with a description of what she noted about each person when they entered the bank, watching for signs of potential robbery. Thomas’s grey-blue eyes sharpened. “Something has disappeared from the site I’m working on.” Jeffrey spoke in hushed tones despite the fact that they were in the backyard, with the Atlantic on one side and empty yards on the others. “The theft hasn’t been reported yet, and we—I,” he emphasized, “hope it can be recovered before anyone has to know that it’s missing.” She peered at Jeffrey. He’d gotten awfully close to their actual jobs. Disconcertingly close. “I’m not sure how discretion and an eye for potential trouble will help after the fact,” she said. Thomas was leery, too. “Why didn’t you report the theft?” “The homeowners didn’t want the publicity if it could be avoided. I went along with that to protect our reputations.” Jeffrey’s gaze darted between Stefanie and Thomas. “If we don’t get it back, our professional reputations are shot. Each one of us working the site.” “What kind of site?” Thomas asked. “It’s on privately owned land. There’s a garden renovation going on at Carmichael House here on St. George’s,” Jefferey said. “The owner, Marlene Carmichael, our Minister of Economy and Labor, wants to make it a showplace. When a dead tree in the existing garden was removed, a small chest was exposed under the roots. That prompted a call for an archaeological assessment of the area to see if anything else was buried in the vicinity.” “A chest?” Stefanie asked, giddy as a child with an unwrapped present as she pictured a metal-strapped wooden treasure chest filled with gold and jewels. Jeffrey held his hands about ten inches apart. “A small one. Brass and steel.” She cocked her head. “What was in it?” A short laugh escaped Jeffrey’s lips. “Nothing.” Thomas raised his eyebrows at that. “Any idea how it ended up here?” Jeffrey sat back. “Most likely a Spanish shipwreck in the mid to late 1500s. Spanish and Portuguese sailors occasionally washed up on Bermuda before the Sea Venture wrecked in 1609 and we British settled here. We believe the ship this chest came from was on its way from Cartagena to Spain.” An exciting find. But the chest was empty. That was disappointing. And now it was missing. Having a reputation for discretion was nice, but the investigation should be carried out by the authorities, not two vacationers with few resources. “I’m a travel blogger now, and Thomas is an assistant professor of archaeology,” she said, using their completely legitimate cover occupations. “What you’re describing sounds like a job for the police.” Thomas agreed. Jeffrey’s brows drew together, disappointment written in every line of his features. “We can’t have another Tucker’s Cross. We can’t.” A spark of excitement flickered deep within Stefanie’s chest. She’d read the story of Tucker’s Cross in the guidebook she’d brought on the flight from the States. “The emerald and gold cross that was recovered from the San Pedro,” she said. “Replaced with a forgery, which was discovered just in time for Queen Elizabeth’s visit in 1975.” Thomas set his wine glass on the table. “Stolen.” “When the archaeological record gets lost, the whole island loses. It can’t happen again,” Jeffrey said, his voice rising in desperation. “It can’t.” Surely that emotion on his face wasn’t for a small brass chest, even one that was 450 years old. Thomas’s eyes narrowed. “It isn’t the chest that’s missing, is it?” *** Excerpt from Death in St. George’s by M. A. Monnin. Copyright 2024 by M. A. Monnin. Reproduced with permission from M. A. Monnin. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author M. A. Monnin:

.

.

M. A. Monnin

M. A. Monnin is the author of the Intrepid Traveler Mystery series, including Agatha Best First Novel finalist DEATH IN THE AEGEAN. Her 3rd in the series, DEATH IN ST. GEORGE’S, came out May 2024. She also writes the St. Killian, PI and the Hawk Hathaway, Time Traveling Troubleshooter short stories. Mary’s short stories have appeared in Black Cat Mystery Magazine, Black Cat Weekly, and numerous anthologies. A member of ITW, MWA, SinC, and SMFS, an avocational archaeologist and USAF veteran, Mary is a trustee of the Kansas City Archaeological Society and treasurer of Mid-America Romance Authors. She lives in Kansas City, MO.

Find M. A. Monnin at: www.mamonnin.com www.CuratorsofCrime.com Goodreads BookBub – @monninma Instagram – @m.a.monnin Twitter/X – @mamonnin1 Facebook – @MAMonnin

 

 

Tour Participants:

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

 

 

Join In:

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for M. A. Monnin. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

 

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

 

~~~~~

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.