(A Blue Spruce Hills Novella)
Publication date: September 17th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Midwife. Halloween. A Pennsylvania hill town. A ghost with an agenda. A historian with patient eyes.
Jules Lockwood, nurse-midwife and family nurse practitioner, wants two years of loan forgiveness and a one-way ticket to Australia. Her obstacle: a town that keeps finding reasons to need her.
Eli Matthews, Blue Spruce Hills town historian, is the kind of man who came back when it mattered and stayed. He brings coffee every morning without being asked.
Agnes Bell, midwife, 1856 to 1931, has been waiting in Blue Spruce Hills since her death for the right pair of hands to pass her work to. She has found them. She is not subtle about it.
On Halloween night, when the veil between past and present is at its thinnest, everything Jules came to Blue Spruce Hills to avoid arrives at once.
This Is Halloween delivers the satisfaction of a woman choosing herself and her work on her own terms, a slow-burn romance that earns every moment, and a ghost story that will make you wish you could have known Agnes Bell.
• small town romance
• ghost mentor
• found community
• slow burn
• woman finding home
• past and present collide
• reluctant to stay
• Halloween setting
• professional woman romance
• haunted by the past (literal)
• second chance at belonging
Heat level: closed door Series: Blue Spruce Hills, Book 1 — standalone, complete story, no cliffhanger POV: third person limited, Jules Tense: past Setting: small Pennsylvania town, October through May Comp titles: The House in the Cerulean Sea; Beach Read; A Discovery of Witches Content notes: pregnancy and birth depicted (clinical, not graphic); brief mention of historical pregnancy loss (off-page); deployment/absent spouse (minor character)
Juliet “Jules” Lockwood had sworn exactly six times since leaving the highway and crossing the Blue Spruce Hills town line. All six had been silent. All six had been necessary.
She pulled her Subaru into the gravel lot beside the Blue Spruce Hills Community Clinic and sat there longer than necessary, hands wrapped around the steering wheel like the car might attempt escape without her. Outside, the October sky was an intense blue with a few white clouds scudding across it. A carved pumpkin grinned from the clinic’s front step. Orange lights shaped like leaves were looped around the porch railing. Just up the street, a plastic skeleton swung from a telephone pole, rotating haphazardly in the wind.
Jules stared at the skeleton. The skeleton appeared to stare back.
She opened the car door, stepped out onto the gravel, closed her eyes, and took a deep inhale. Wood smoke and baked goods, harvest-sweet with cinnamon and nutmeg. It was, Jules thought grimly, aggressively charming. She took a step and nearly collided with a man holding a cardboard tray of coffee.
“Oh! Sorry!” he said, immediately steadying both the tray and her elbow with equal care. He was tall and laid back, with dark hair that the wind had done something unrequested to and kind brown eyes, soft and patient, the sort of eyes that suggested the person behind them listened when you talked. He wore a canvas jacket the color of cedar bark and was smiling with the easy confidence of someone who had nowhere to be and was fine with that. “You must be Jules.”
She froze. This was… unfortunate. Because those eyes were going to be a problem. She recognized his type immediately, the way one would recognize a load-bearing wall, structural and quiet, that the whole room organizes itself around without anyone quite noticing. Those eyes reflected the sort of steadiness that belonged to men who stayed. She had believed that about someone once. Believed it comprehensively and inconveniently, and at considerable personal expense. Never again.
“I’m Eli Matthews,” he said, and held out the coffee tray. “Town historian and unofficial town greeter. I brought options. Decaf, regular, and one with oat milk, because the clinic called ahead and…” he paused, reconsidering his own sentence, “okay, I asked Margaret at the post office, who asked Clara at the bakery, who said she had heard that you’d mentioned oat milk to someone at the gas station in Lehighton.”
Jules stared at the tray. “That’s a significant intelligence operation for a cup of coffee.”
He smiled, a little sheepishly. “Small town. We have patterns.” He glanced at the pumpkin on the porch. “Also, it’s October. We take hospitality seriously in October.”
She reached for the oat milk coffee. Behind her, someone cleared their throat very distinctly — the throat-clearing of someone who had been waiting a respectable amount of time and was now done waiting. Jules’s hand tightened around the cup.
She recognized that sound. She knew it the way she knew a change in barometric pressure, in her teeth, at the base of her skull, in the specific cold that moved along her spine when something was present that had no business being present.
Absolutely not. I am not doing ghosts again.
She turned slowly.
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About Author Sarah Branson:
Award-winning feminist speculative fiction author Sarah Branson spent close to thirty years as a midwife before turning to fiction, writing tales of action, adventure, revenge, and romance rooted in the strength and resiliency of the human spirit. Her New Earth universe imagines a future where diversity of identity is simply the texture of life, with honors including the 2022 Kindle Book Award for science fiction, the 2025 Wishing Shelf Book Award Gold Medal for A Pirates’ Pact, and a Foreword Indie Award Honorable Mention for For the Love of Glitter. Her two newest releases expand beyond New Earth: This Is Halloween, a cozy women’s fiction novella in the Blue Spruce Hills series (September 17, 2026), and Life Ends, Love Remains: A Revolutionary Ghost Story, a literary paranormal novel set in Ridgefield, Connecticut (early October 2026). Sarah lives with her husband in Connecticut.
Love made him
dangerous. Devotion will make him unstoppable.
For centuries, Kincade survived by control.
Forged by the Brotherhood, he learned to bury his humanity, suppress his
instincts, and become exactly what they needed him to be—a weapon. Darkness was
safer than feeling. Obedience was survival.
Then she changed everything.
When the woman he loves is taken, restraint shatters. The careful balance he’s
fought to maintain slips—and the Brotherhood sees their opening. They want the
monster he used to be. The weapon they never quite lost.
To save her, he may have to become exactly that.
As ancient secrets rise and factions fracture, the line between protector and
destroyer begins to blur. Every step closer to her pulls him deeper into the
war he tried to escape—and toward the darkness he swore would never rule him
again.
Because this time, love isn’t his weakness. It’s his point of no return.
Dark Night of the Soul is a dark
paranormal romance set within the War of the Brotherhood—a high-stakes spin-off arc in the Dream
Walker universe. You do not need to read the previous Dream Walker books to
enjoy DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL. This spinoff is designed to stand on its own.
Perfect for readers who love:
* Dark, emotionally intense paranormal romance
* Immortal antiheroes and devotion-driven stakes
* Secret orders, hidden wars, and found family
* Love that becomes defiance
Content Note: This book contains dark themes and intense
scenes, including violence, injury and blood, torture / forced restraint,
psychological trauma, and situations involving coercion / control. It also
includes threats to a loved one. Reader discretion is advised.
“Dark Night of the Soul by Michelle Miles is
everything dark paranormal romance should be—intense, emotional, and completely
consuming. I devoured it.”
MICHELLE MILES believes in fairy tales, true love, and a
little bit of magic in every story. She writes fantasy, paranormal, and young
adult books packed with adventure, action, and swoon-worthy romance—because
what’s a story without a bit of danger and a whole lot of heart? From angels
and demons to dragons, elves, and time travelers, her books are filled with
epic quests, fierce heroines, and the kind of heroes worth falling for.
When she’s not crafting new adventures, she brings stories
to life as a narrator and hosts Miles Beyond the Page, a podcast where she
chats with authors about their writing journeys. A Texas girl through and
through, she loves getting lost in a good book, binge-watching movies, hiking
the trails, and sipping a glass of wine. Come hang out with her on Facebook,
Instagram, Pinterest, and more!
Flimflam Fairy: Magical Cozy Mystery Bookstore #1 by Elizabeth Pantley
Flimflam Fairy: Magical Cozy Mystery Bookstore #1 Paranormal Cozy Mystery 1st in New Series Setting – Whisperglow Village Publication date : August 27, 2026 (will be updated) Print length : 275 pages Digital ASIN : B0H795L8DL
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A fun cozy mystery adventure with an enchanted bookstore and a clever talking cat!
Best friends Willa and Lucy buy an enchanted bookstore full of charmed books. One wisp of magic later, they’re whisked inside a story, transformed into amateur sleuths, and joined by Banjo, a charming talking cat. There is no way out until the mystery is solved.
This adventure drops them in Whisperglow Village, a world of color, wonder, and fairies, where one of the most beloved residents in town has just been murdered, found clutching a cryptic note from a con man.
Villagers don’t lock their doors here. They never imagined this could happen, and they certainly never could have imagined whodunit.
Can Willa, Lucy, and Banjo unmask the killer, solve the case, and make it back to their own cozy bookstore before the story closes its final page?
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If you like the idea of an enchanted bookstore with charmed books, check out the companion series – The Magical Cozy Mystery Book Club: 11 book series available in eBook, paperback, audiobook, and Kindle Unlimited.
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About Author Elizabeth Pantley
Elizabeth Pantley is a bestselling author of fiction and non-fiction books. She writes this new series and two well-loved cozy mystery series: The Magical Cozy Mystery Book Club, and the Destiny Falls Mystery and Magic series. She has also written the international bestselling No-Cry Solution parenting book series that is available in over twenty languages.
Elizabeth lives in the majestic Pacific Northwest and spends winters in the sunny desert of Arizona. While neither location is home to any paranormal beings (that she knows of) the vastly different, yet equally lovely locations are the inspiration for the settings in many of her books.
In this pulse-pounding romantic suspense, a bestselling author seeking solitude finds herself at the center of a deadly mystery—and the sheriff investigating it may have more at stake than anyone realizes.
A woman desperate for solitude.
International bestselling author Meaghan Ryers has wealth, fame, and success. But all she wants now is to escape the spotlight and disappear somewhere no one knows her name. A remote Alaskan village seems like the perfect place—until she discovers a car engulfed in flames and claims someone was killed.
A man with an enemy he can’t see.
Sheriff Donovan Kyndall is used to handling trouble in a place where everyone has secrets. But the mysterious car fire is different. There’s no body, no obvious explanation, and Meaghan’s story raises more questions than answers. Then an anonymous caller reveals details about Donovan’s tragic past—details no stranger should know.
A deadly game neither wants to play.
As Donovan and Meaghan dig deeper, they uncover a conspiracy reaching into his family’s darkest history. But the closer they come to the truth, the more dangerous the investigation becomes—and the harder it is to ignore the attraction growing between them. Someone is watching. Someone knows what Donovan has tried to forget. And someone is determined to make sure neither of them survives long enough to uncover the truth. In a place where trust can be deadly, Meaghan and Donovan must risk everything—including their hearts—to expose the person pulling the strings before the next victim is one of them.
Book Details:
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Published by: Blaire Morgan Books Publication Date: September 14, 2026 Series: Kyndall Family Suspense Series, Book 3
Fire snaked into his lungs. Suffocating. Debilitating. He couldn’t breathe, his body immobile. He clawed at the air, at the coarse rope binding his feet, at everything his hands could reach. Why were his hands free? Is this how someone feels when they burn? Helios promised him there would be consequences. It had only been one more fire, one more kill. He had craved it more than he feared Helios’s warning. One more mistake. Smoke curled upward from the flames, dancing up the walls in a seductive swirl of lights and sound. The crackling of gunshots echoed somewhere beyond the steel door. No chance of escape. He didn’t deserve to die this way. His scream lodged deep in his lungs, so deep it burned his insides. A round of hacking coughs escaped his scorched lips. He desperately wanted water or a beer. Yes, when he got out of this… if he made it… he’d down a whole six-pack of Bud Light and thank whatever powers that be for his salvation. I’ll be good. If you let me live, God, I’ll be good forever. Did he hear his name coming back to him from the darkness beyond the flames? Yes, but from where, exactly? Damian.It’s only in my head. No. No, no, no! He heard shouts, or was fear mocking him? He yanked at the ropes around his ankles and tore away flesh covered in his own blood. Why couldn’t he move? The door pounded. No, someone pounded on the door. The blaze caressed the floor around him, moving closer with a lover’s passion, inch by inch. He heard the loud crash this time and was certain someone stood on the other side of the door. A gust of air whooshed into the room, and the fire found new life. It tormented him, licked his skin. A scream escaped, louder now because of the burn. Two muscular bodies in masks lifted him away from the center of the inferno. His eyes remained open, even as the sensation of floating carried him away from the chamber. He’d promised to be good and he would be. No man or woman or creature walking the earth could claim to be so good as he from this moment on and into forever. Darkness consumed his whispered thanks while a cacophony of sirens trumpeted his fall into oblivion. *** Excerpt from When the Wicked Fall by Blaire Morgan. Copyright 2026 by Blaire Morgan. Reproduced with permission from Blaire Morgan. All rights reserved.
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About Author Blaire Morgan:
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Blaire Morgan is a pseudonymous American author blending danger, emotion, and high-stakes storytelling into gripping romantic suspense. She lives wherever the next adventure takes her—usually somewhere with a lot of trees, or a place that exists only in her imagination.
Publication date: September 15th 2026
Genres: Adult, Historical, Romance
A choice shaped by war. A life in its shadow. One last chance to make peace with the past.
1998. Eva Marlowe has never asked her husband if he regrets his decision – she isn’t sure she wants to know the answer. But when news arrives that his estranged son has died, she feels the foundations of their marriage begin to shift beneath her. Then the funeral draws them back to Silverwood Hall where it all began, and she can no longer avoid the question.
1939. As Europe teeters on the brink of war, young socialite Eva Ravensby has been sent home from the Riviera in disgrace. Grounded at the family seat of Silverwood Hall, she chafes against the constraints of her upbringing, until her brother brings aspiring writer Ben Marlowe home for the summer.
Ben is utterly compelling. And wholly unsuitable. So when he asks Eva to marry him the night before he leaves for war, she refuses. Duty must come before love, and her father would never forgive her. But how can she possibly know the train of events her answer has set in motion? As the war takes its toll on them both, her refusal shapes their lives in ways they can never undo. Then, in the aftermath, an unexpected second chance arises. But the price they must pay for it is more than they could have imagined.
Now, decades later, as Ben grieves for the son he never knew, Eva faces the question she has spent a whole marriage refusing to ask: was she ever truly the life he chose?
On the day of the funeral, Eva drives with her signature brand of recklessness and skill. When they were young, the thrill of it was intoxicating: Ben can still recall with absolute clarity the heady feeling of that long ago summer before the war – an awareness of their youth and vitality and a belief in the wonders the future had in store for them. He had never felt so alive. But as he grew older and more aware of his mortality, each swerve and near miss became nothing short of terrifying.
Now, watching Eva in profile as she slams her palm with impatience against the steering wheel at a slow car ahead of them, he finds himself thinking it would actually be quite a fine way to go, wrapped together in tangled metal, a definitive end.
Eva lets out a curse as the column of traffic slows to a crawl and he quenches a smile, taking the opportunity to watch her a little longer. He will never tire of looking at her face, marvelling at the fine chiselled lines of her cheekbones and her jaw, the forget-me-not blue of eyes that are still as bright and clear as on the day they first met. She catches him watching her from the edge of her eye and turns her head.
‘Are you all right?’
Her question drags his thoughts reluctantly back to the purpose of their journey.
George’s funeral.
His son.
He shifts awkwardly in the seat of the car. The trousers of the wool suit are rough and itchy – it’s been a while since he’s worn it and his skin has become more sensitive with age. He stretches out as much as he can in the confined space and tries not to think about how stiff his hips will be after an hour and a half in the car.
‘I’m fine,’ he says, and they both know it’s a lie.
He’s still in two minds about going at all and with each successive roundabout they come to, it crosses his mind to ask Eva to drive right around it and take them back home. But he says nothing, and the Audi bears them in sleek leather comfort ever closer to their destination.
‘We don’t have to go,’ Eva offers, reading his discomfort with her usual clarity.
‘But you think I should,’ he replies, which is unfair, because they’ve talked about it endlessly in the days since the letter arrived and they came to the decision together. But he’s in no frame of mind to be reasonable. Anger seethes in his gut, bitter and relentless, and he only hopes he can contain it once they get there. Eva says nothing, eyes trained with uncharacteristic attention on the road ahead.
Abruptly, the anger slides into guilt. Such a pointless emotion, but he’s spent most of his life in its grip, one way or another. Guilt for dreaming and wanting more; for hurting people and for poor decisions; for living a life that is full of regret for what he lost instead of gratitude for all he has. He loves Eva desperately and always has, but he’s conscious he has not always been the best of husbands. He lets out a low sigh.
‘I’m sorry,’ he offers.
His wife flashes him a quick look of forgiveness, and he touches his fingers to where her hand rests on the gear lever. The last person in the world he wants to fight with is Eva.
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About Author Samantha Grosser:
Samantha Grosser is a very British author who doesn’t function without tea. Having spent many years teaching English in Asia and Australia, she has now made her home on the sunny beaches of Sydney, Australia, where she lives with her husband, son, and a very small dog called Livvy.
She is the author of wartime dramas Another Time and Place, The Officer’s Affair, and Out of the Ashes, and the historical novel The King James Men. When she isn’t writing or reading, (which isn’t often) you can find her either doing yoga, going for long walks, or watching old movies.
Blindsided by the sudden death of his mother, 21-year-old Will Lockhart can no longer afford the rent or bear the haunting memories of their shared Massachusetts apartment. While packing up his mother’s belongings, he discovers his long-dead father’s deed to a house in upstate New York. With nowhere else to go, he settles there, intent on making a fresh start. But odd things happen as soon as Will moves in. He’s unnerved by evidence of fire damage in the cottage, and alarmed by the seizure his elderly next-door neighbor suffers upon meeting him. Most shocking of all are the rumors of a long-ago murder in his house. Now, trapped in a town full of strangers, unsure of whether local murmurings are true or simply small-town gossip, he’s determined to discover what really happened all those years ago, and how he’s connected to the chaos. The truth will set him free. Or get him killed.
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Praise for Maybe You Lied:
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“Sadera has done it again! Maybe You Lied is an evocative and compelling tale of family trauma, betrayal, and the chilling truth that the most dangerous secrets are those buried by the people closest to us.” ~ Lisa Malice, bestselling author of Lest She Forget, winner of the 2023 IBPA Best New Voice in Fiction Award “MAYBE YOU LIED is a spectacular thriller that instantly grips you and refuses to let go. With great emotional depth, this novel plunges you inside Will Lockhart’s mind, soul, and angst. He’s a down on his luck, grief and guilt-ridden young man stuck in a hopeless rut. When he discovers a deed to a house he believes he’s inherited, it seems like his luck just might change. Page by page, he uncovers hidden layers of a past he could never have imagined. But when nothing is as it seems and everything you knew about your family and your past is a lie, be careful of digging up the truth. It might set you free…unless it kills you first. This darkly suspenseful, romantic journey knits a cast of intriguing, deeply unreliable characters into a clever, twisty narrative. You won’t want to put down this edgy story of loss, love, identity, and family truths as you hurtle towards its surprising end.” ~ Zelly Ruskin, award-winning author of Not Yours to Keep and the forthcoming One of Us Must Die “Maybe You Lied is a twisty, emotionally charged domestic suspense that ramps up to a jaw-dropping, visceral finale. Don’t miss it!” ~ Bonnie Traymore, Author of The Rich Guy’s Wife “Family ties? Or family lies? Will Lockhart is coming home to a woodland cottage he never knew existed, his life in shreds and fragments. In a novel as intricately woven as a web, Jennifer Sadera explores sociopathy, nature versus nurture, and the one thing that can never die–a chance at love and redemption.” ~ Jenny Milchman, Mary Higgins Clark award winning author of the Arles Shepherd thrillers “A young man’s attempt to piece together his family’s dark history propels this gripping mystery, which moves with an electric speed through secrets twistier than the branches of a mangled family tree. Combining thrills, romance, and a moving exploration of grief, MAYBE YOU LIED is perfect for fans of sinister family dynamics who want to devour a thriller in one breathless go.” ~ Ashley Winstead, national bestselling author of This Book Will Bury Me
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MAYBE YOU LIED Trailer:
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Book Details:
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Genre: Psychological Suspense, Domestic Suspense
Published by: Creative James Media Publication Date: September 22, 2026 Number of Pages: 344 ISBN: 9781965648919 (ISBN10: 1965648916)
Landlords don’t rent apartments to zombies. I scratched the four-day stubble on my jawline and parked my mom’s Camry behind the brown brick walk-up. Home-Not-So-Sweet Home. As I stepped into the cramped apartment lobby Sergei was waiting. “The rent,” he said, his guttural Russian accent turning his words into a nonsensical de-REN. I paused, reluctantly meeting the bushy brows lowered ominously over his steely slitted eyes. Easy to translate. I nodded and darted my own eyes to the stairway. One of these days my landlord would surely raise a heavily muscled arm and crash his ham hock fist into my face. Emitting my zombie grunt, I pivoted to the stairwell and rushed up, expecting Sergei to follow. Relieved when he didn’t. It would be a brief reprieve. When my mom lived here Sergei only showed up once a month, but in the three years since she died, he’d pounded his frustration with my spotty payments onto my apartment door with increasing frequency, not budging until I opened the creaky steel barrier. Saying nothing, he’d hold out a meaty palm that looked like it could strangle me all by itself. Back when I still had cash, I’d offer a wad of fifties and hundreds that he’d snatch up like grabbing cash from an ATM. Only the Will Lockhart machine was now empty, and Sergei looked as though he wanted to kick it into compliance. Kick me. Face flushed with fury, he’d study me with those hard gray pebbles, taking in my disheveled hair and sagging clothes. A gaze that told me exactly what he thought about me—a twenty-one-year-old slacker who clearly cared about nothing. A deadbeat. A zombie. And this was mostly true except for the one thing I cared deeply about: those last seconds with Mom. I relived them daily, the guilt as fresh and dangerously addictive as a drunk’s bleary-eyed yearning for a Bloody Mary the morning after a bender. I deserved the memories. If not for me, Mom would still be alive. I closed my eyes against the inevitable scene rolling through my mind. The flash of headlights slicing through my Honda’s dusky interior like a white-hot comet, too fast to stop, too bright to blink away; a violent force whirling me into its vortex. My neck twisting painfully, head hitting something hard. The car’s interior exploding into a slow-motion kaleidoscope. How I’d instinctively thrust my arm out to protect my mom, instant pain bolting from fingers to shoulder; glass shattering and raining down upon us like the stinging embers of trailing fireworks. And then, the stillness. The church-like quiet. I’d blinked into the silence as the noises trickled in—the hissing of the steaming engine, and a tinny song coming through the radio from somewhere under the car’s hood. A far-off voice belted out a twangy country tune. “Put on the bacon and the eggs, darlin’ . . .” Mom and her country music. Mom and her . . . Mom. Head throbbing, I’d scanned the smoke-choked twilight. She was right where she was supposed to be, still hooked in place by her seatbelt, staring straight ahead, like she was listening for something. “Mom? Are you all right?” Beyond the jagged glass edges of her blown-out window I saw the lines of the truck through the smoky haze, the words “Barclay’s Bread” written in fancy red letters on its wide, boxy side. Mom said nothing. Painfully bolted into our twisted metal cage, waiting for the Jaws of Life to extract us, I’d reached out, trying to touch her with my other hand, the one that still worked. If I could just shake her out of her trance. But in those final precious seconds our bodies existed in the same world, I knew. She was already gone. I shook my head, forcing me back to the present, wishing my mind could be like the Etch-a-Sketch Mom bought me when I was six. One harsh shake in each direction and the contents of the screen disappeared. But my mind retained in painful detail the truck driver’s distinctive profile, the beak of a nose angled down, a squinted eye and bulbous cheekbone lit up by his cell-phone screen. As a kid, the thought of Mom dying had set waves of terror rolling through me. Not just because I loved her, but because a part of me always dreaded the day she’d be taken from me. Convinced it would happen but unsure of when, I’d spent a good four years waking up each night and tiptoeing to her bedroom door, peeking through the crack between the edge of the flimsy wood and the wall to ensure she was still in bed, alive. Ridiculous as it seemed, even then, it was understandable, given our track record. I mean, not long before my dad left us, just after my fifth birthday, we’d been a family of four. *** Excerpt from MAYBE YOU LIED by Jennifer Sadera. Copyright 2026 by Jennifer Sadera. Reproduced with permission from Jennifer Sadera. All rights reserved.
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About Author Jennifer Sadera:
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Jennifer Sadera first worked in the publishing industry as a junior copywriter for NAL/Penguin. She has written and edited for newspapers and magazines as a freelancer and on the staffs of major women’s publications, Woman’s World and Redbook.
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Maybe You Lied… But This Giveaway Doesn’t
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Two orphan loners. One supernatural plague. When wood-eating zombies
threaten their island, mismatched investigators Felix and Ninja must combine
science and instinct to save Spinachi-before they’re next.
ZOMBIE ZOO is Book 1 in a five-book middle grade adventure series for readers
ages 8-13, blending paranormal mystery, zombies, unlikely friendship, and
STEAM-powered problem-solving.
When 13-year-old aspiring naturalist Felix Fizzystyxx discovers that
orphans at Wayward Amok Orphanage are transforming into wood-eating zombies,
his quiet tree-fort observations are no longer enough. Someone has
deliberately unleashed a strange plague on Tub’s island town of Spinachi-and
they’re still out there.
To find a cure, Felix must team up with Ninja, a shadow-dwelling orphan who
trusts her instincts and never backs down. Intense and razor-sharp, she
notices what others overlook and lives up to her name as the island’s most
mysterious sleuth. With their eccentric mentor Doc Brunne compromised and the
town’s water supply contaminated by a glowing bioluminescent substance, the
two mismatched investigators must combine scientific observation with sharp
intuition to stop the outbreak before their island home is devoured.
Set on the fictional island of Tub, this fast-paced, humorous adventure
naturally weaves in STEAM concepts-biology, chemistry, bioluminescence, water
systems, pattern recognition, and the scientific method-within an
age-appropriate supernatural mystery. Themes include unlikely friendship,
identity, trust across differences, courage, and finding your voice when
adults won’t listen.
Featuring diverse protagonists, quirky humor, spooky-but-fun scares, and
strong female and male leads. ZOMBIE ZOO is ideal for reluctant readers and
fans of Max Brallier’s The Last Kids on Earth, B.B. Alston’s Amari and the
Night Brothers, and Goosebumps. Comprehensive educator resources-including
discussion guides, vocabulary lists, STEAM extension activities, and printable
maps-support classroom use, library programming, book clubs, and make this
title ideal for cross-curricular lessons bridging ELA, STEAM, and SEL.
About Author Melanie Abed
Melanie Abed is a behavioral expert turned story weaver. She believes
dragons are real but hiding, and finds thunderstorms equally delightful and
terrifying. A tea-loving bookworm, she champions young minds and writes to
help kids discover their superpowers are real.
Can two men who clash over everything ever agree on love?
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When Harry Met Charlie
by Donna Costa
Genre: MM Romantic Comedy
Harry is a number-cruncher. Charlie is a people-person. One
is bubbly and optimistic, the other serious and pessimistic. With an endless
stream of verbal sparring and heated debates filling the car on their road trip
from Vancouver to Toronto, they arrive at the conclusion they are complete
opposites and go their separate ways.
When they meet years later – older, wiser, and love-worn –
will their sparring become a prelude to romance? An exciting turn on? Will they
be there for each other when it’s needed most?
Boys’ Love + Nora Ephron Fan Fiction = When Harry Met
Charlie
“Fun, funny and wonderfully delightful! Reminds you of
experiencing your first crush – I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough!” –
Leeanne Whitehouse, Pure Country Morning Host
Donna Costa draws on her love of romance, both novels and
movies, plus her years in the aviation industry for When Harry Met Charlie. She
writes in a variety of genres including YA, memoir, romance, and historical
fiction. She lives in London, Ontario.
Dr. Kyle McMann became a physician to save lives. But when she watches violent criminals escape punishment again and again, she begins to question whether the system designed to protect the innocent actually protects the evilest of villains. Haunted by the death of her younger brother—which she’s sure she could have prevented—Kyle is drawn into a clandestine cabal called The Tribunal. Its members include physicians, intelligence specialists, and former military operatives who secretly hunt down murderous criminals that have escaped the law. They deliver surgically precise punishment that mirror the crimes committed by these vile homicidal maniacs, disguising them as natural medical events. Transplant surgeon Dr. Graham Kurland, a decorated former Army Ranger struggling with the scars of war, finds himself pulled into Kyle’s life-and-death efforts to protect the defenseless and punish the guilty. As the two doctors grow closer, they must confront the moral and deadly consequences of the vengeance the Tribunal has inflicted.
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Praise for Invisible Justice:
“rapid-fire action scenes … make the pages turn easily … a delicate balance between interior emotional examination and tough medical drama … the main players are subtly and fully developed.” ~ Kirkus Reviews “A compelling, fast-paced read that combines suspense with meaningful explorations of grief, accountability, and moral responsibility. It is both an entertaining thriller and a powerful examination of what happens when ordinary people decide that the law is no longer enough.” ~ Mary Karnes, Author, Wedding Bride Doom “Dr. Gary Brown has created a rip-roaring ‘Dexter with Doctors’ thriller, using his deep-dive knowledge of medical catastrophes, hard-earned as they were by one of America’s top eye surgeons, from slicing into eyeballs for decades. It’s so much fun to watch brilliant medical minds figure out how to murder, with as much pain as humanly possible, evil bastards who prey on the innocent. There’s a fantastic love story between two hot yet damaged doctors trying to find love in a world full of blood, guts, death, and the miraculous saving of lives. This is the kind of book you keep thinking about as you go through your day and can’t wait to get back to, just to see who dies next and in what excruciating way they bite the dust, knowing full well that the events are not natural.” ~ Henry Sterry, bestselling author of Chicken. “Dr. Gary Brown blends his considerable medical acumen with gripping storytelling ability to take the medical thriller to new heights. Gary is an artistic master who entertains, educates, and tantalizes our intellect . . . I can’t wait for the next book.” ~ Timothy W. Olsen, M.D. Professor and Consultant of Ophthalmology, Mayo Clinic; Chair Emeritus, Emory University; Founder, iMacular Regeneration, LLC “Gary, I found your book wonderful . . . I just kept turning the pages. I couldn’t stop. I wanted to know what happened next?. . .What happened next?. . . What happened next?. . . It unfolds in a really good way. I like that being a doctor, you have access to that kind of information. And your protagonist is a woman. She ends up joining this thing called the Tribunal, which is kind of like a – we talked about this earlier – Dexter on Steroids – as she gets the bad guys. I like reading thrillers, whether they’re legal or in this case medical. I think you’ve done a really great job. So, congratulations on your book.” ~ Jack Canfield, author of Success Principles and co-author of the Chicken Soup for the Soul Series with over 600 million sales.
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INVISIBLE JUSTICE Trailer:
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Book Details:
Genre: Medical Thriller
Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: April 28, 2026 Number of Pages: 416 ISBN: 979-8898201494 Series: A Kyle McMann & Graham Kurland Medical Thriller, Book 1
Grady Memorial Hospital, Atlanta, Georgia Kyle McMann groaned as she paced on the Grady Memorial Hospital Emergency Room ramp, her eyes tracking the incoming ambulance. She prayed this wasn’t another twenty-five-year- old—her exact age—stiffened by rigor mortis, still cradling her crying infant son in her arms. She was haunted by the mother’s lifeless stare that sent shivers down her spine. Obviously, some evil bastard shot her close up as she held her baby. Kyle had picked the short straw, as per usual. She was starting her career as an intern in the Surgical Emergency Room of Grady, the Mount Everest of U.S. shock-trauma centers. Unlike most hospitals that had one ER, this godforsaken medical behe-moth had three: the Surgical ER, the Medical ER, and the Pediatric ER. Each had its own unique variants of traumatizing trauma. It was dark by nine p.m. on Thursday, July 5th, and she shielded her eyes from the strobing reds and blues. It was her job to screen the incoming “clients.” Though not specified in the hospital bylaws, inherent in the mission of the lowest of the low on the professional totem pole was ramp duty. Aka processing the worst of the worst and pronouncing the dead bodies dead. Didn’t get much grimmer than that. Her mind flashed back to this morning’s thirty-one-year-old basketball phenom with bacterial meningitis. A day ago, a vibrant human being. Now approaching his maker with a devastated brain failing on a respirator despite the efforts of the best infectious disease minds on the planet. She’d been there for five days, and already it was wearing her out. Facing the families. The tears. The sobbing. Parents collapsing. It was like everyone fell from the tree of horrors and hit each branch on the way down. Her fight or flight reflex kicked in, and she sprinted to the ambulance, sharp brown eyes focused, runner’s body whipping towards the EMS vehicle, coughing out the black exhaust that smacked her face-on and splayed her middle-parted chestnut brown hair in both directions. Staying on the driver’s side, she peered in as the BLS 911 Emergency Ambulance backed into the ramp. “What is it?” she shouted as the driver rolled down his window. “Bad one, doc. Bleeding like a stuck pig. A bunch of kids worked him over with bats and knives. You want to get in here fast.” Kyle’s heart sank as she ran back and yanked open the rear door. She jumped in before the van came to a full stop. Blood. And more blood. A vampire’s wet dream. On the sheets. The floor. Smeared on the windows. “Come on!” she shouted to the half-panicked tech staring at the abdomen. “Let’s get him inside.” The two front EMTs ran around back and pulled the stretcher out. The group slammed through the steel and glass doors into the ER. “WAIT A MINUTE!” Ellen Chu, the hard-as-a-rock head nurse, blocked their path and held up her hand. “What’s going on?” Kyle spoke up from behind. “Let ’em through. We’re going to Trauma, stat.” She pushed the stretcher, sweeping Ellen aside, then looked back over her shoulder. “And call Eli.” The Trauma Room was halfway down the hall. It was larger than the rest, so more people could fit in to stabilize the endless stream of broken bodies in this war zone. Kyle slipped in before the men and slapped the trauma room table. “Here. Let’s move him. One, two, three.” They lifted the patient from the stretcher using the draw sheet underneath him. He was light. Must be a kid, Kyle thought. She peered into the open abdomen. The wound stretched all the way across the belly. “Oh, man,” she cried as she catapulted back. An arterial pumper squirted blood into the air, hitting her directly in the right eye. Everything she learned drained from her mind. She went from flight/fight to freeze. All she could see was that fountain of red shooting up from the patient’s pulsating bowel. Where the hell was Eli? Her stomach dropped from the sheer helplessness of it all. Think, dammit. THINK! Ellen poked her head around the corner. Kyle looked up from the bowel, snapped out of her stupor, and wiped blood from her face with the arm of her white lab coat. “Where’s Eli?” “I told him to get his ass down here stat.” Ellen looked at the spurting blood, then back at Kyle and said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world: “Shouldn’t we start an IV?” “Yeah, yeah, uh, good idea.” Kyle shook her head and mentally kicked herself. Four years of working her ass off, and she couldn’t even think of an IV? What kind of a moron was she? “I’ll put in the IV,” Ellen said hard and fast, “but you’ve gotta get that bleeder, or he won’t last until Eli gets here.” The ambulance attendants backed off while Ellen tossed Kyle a large Kelly clamp, then ransacked the drawers for an IV. “Kyle?!” she barked, “C’mon, let’s go.” Kyle faced the patient, ready to save his life. Then she froze. Again. Sure, she’d been through the surgical rotation, but only as a second or third assistant. She’d read all the books. But books didn’t shoot blood at you while you tried to stop them from dying. It was her first week in the ER, for fuck’s sake. She wasn’t even a real doctor yet. Real doctors knew what they were doing. “Kyle, SNAP OUT OF IT!” Ellen shouted. “Okay, sorry…” Kyle muttered as she sprang out of her stupor. She pulled on a pair of surgical gloves and yanked the suction catheter from the wall. The long plastic tube slurped the liquid blood and dark clots from the open wound to expose a glistening bowel. There it was. The base of the bleeder. She took the Kelly clamp and went for it. Blood splattered her face again. Now it was in her left eye. What if he had AIDS?Or hepatitis? “Damn!” She missed. The blood was pooling. And the bleeder was going down again. In another second, it would disappear below the surface of a new red pond. She went for it once more, holding her right wrist to steady her hand. “Gotcha, you little bastard.” “What’s going on?” Kyle squinted to keep more blood from rolling into her eyes as she growled at Eli, finally strolling in like the cool customer he was. “Nice of you to stop by.” The second-year surgery resident leaned over to inspect the wound. “Looks to me like you’re doin’ a-okay to me, Newby.” A clot dislodged from another severed vessel. Blood spewed two feet and caught Eli in the cheek. “Okay, well, maybe you do need a little help from your friends.” He wiped his face with a green towel and snapped on a pair of tan gloves. “Kyle, gimme the suction catheter. I’ll work here. You put a second IV in his other hand. Ellen, call the OR. Tell them we’re coming up stat.” Kyle was happy to slide aside. She grabbed the patient’s right hand and smacked the back of it a half dozen times to raise a vein. It was no easy matter considering the scar tissue covering the vessels. Strange. She’d given her little brother a scar like that once. Brian had been chasing her in the house, and she slammed the bathroom door on his hand as hard as she could. The poor kid. She remembered it like it was yesterday. She’d cried for nights when she saw the skin torn back and the tears running down his little pink cheeks. She stared at the patient’s face. Except there was no face. No pink cheeks. Nothing close to normal human features. Only bloated purple lips, swollen shut eyes, and the disfigured pulp left by the vicious stomping. His facial bones had to be fractured beyond recognition. Eli clenched his teeth, his casual nonchalance gone. “Son of a bitch!” “What? What’s the matter?” Kyle asked. “Every time I grab a damn vessel, another pops up.” Even Eli, the king of chill, was sweating. Something he rarely did. “We’ve gotta get this bowel fixed, or we won’t have to worry about the rest of him.” Ellen careened around the doorway corner on one hand. “They gave us the okay. Said to bring him right up.” “Unlock this stretcher. LET’S GO!!!” Eli threw another clamp on the exposed gut. The trio wheeled the stainless-steel stretcher as fast as they could into the main corridor of the ER, then down the dim hallway, with Kyle sprinting at the side. She looked down at the abdomen. Blood was oozing everywhere. She ran ahead and punched the erratically blinking, red “UP” button. Twice. Three times. Four…Eli, Ellen, and the patient arrived in seconds. Kyle’s foot tapped on the floor, and she bit her lower lip as she stared at the patient’s hand. Was she going to lose this one, too? Her mind disassociated as she waited for the clanking elevator. She needed to stop after work to stock up on Fritos. Brian was visiting on Monday. Just out of tenth grade, this was his first solo trip by train. It was a wonder Mom let him come, especially for two days. She hated being alone since Dad died. But she’d finally relented when he expressed such a strong interest in Emory University. He so wanted to follow his big sister’s path, only on the veterinary side. “No pulse,” Ellen said as she felt the patient’s neck and looked up from the head of the stretcher with wide eyes. Eli reached for a confirming feel, then looked back toward the ER, hesitant for a moment. “We gotta get him to the OR,” he decided. “Kyle, you pump. I’ll breathe him.” Kyle jumped onto the stretcher and straddled the patient with her legs, half-standing, taking care not to put weight on the open abdomen. Knees flexed, she pushed down on his chest with both palms, counting off one-per-second thrusts that forced blood through his oxygen-starved body. One of the clamps slipped, and blood squirted, spraying the crotch of her white house officer’s pants over and over. She kept going. Unless they got this poor kid’s heart started again, he’d be a brainstem preparation in ten minutes. Eli sighed deeply and shook his head. “Not good, guys. Where’s a phone to call a code?” He glanced left, then right. “Not even a fucking phone?” Cells were useless down here. Ellen scowled and ran back to the ER, mumbling something unintelligible, though her tone needed no explanation. “I don’t think I’m pumping him well,” Kyle said between heavy breaths. “Why not?” Eli asked. “There’s no support under his back.” “God DAMNIT!” Eli dropped the breathing mask, pushed the stretcher against the wall for stabilization, and pulled a sideboard out from underneath. “Turn him so I can put this under.” Kyle stopped her thrusts and, standing on the stretcher with her back against the wall, lifted the left side of the patient’s body while Eli tried to slip the flat board underneath. The awkward position set off horrific pounding in her head, but not before she had him halfway over. “Almost. Just a little more.” The patient’s shirt slipped up. The birthmark!The brown oval over his right kidney! Kyle’s shocked mouth dropped open. Instead of pulling harder, she dropped him. The patient fell back on Eli and the board with a thud. Kyle’s head snapped back and slammed against the hard tile wall abutting the stretcher. She could hear a crack as her head bounced. The birthmark. The mark on his back—Brian’s mark. And with the hand scars? NOOOOO!!! Eli yanked his right hand out from between the board and the stretcher and shook it. “Kyle! What the hell are you doing? Why’d you let go?” The board crashed to the ground. Kyle climbed down and grabbed the side of the stretcher, her head exploding with the worst pain she’d ever felt. Eli held his hand and grimaced. “What’s wrong with you? Get moving, or he’s gonna die.” “I—I can’t. I just can’t, I’m not, I don’t… I just can’t…” “Why not?” “I-I can’t.” “Jesus Christ!” Eli uttered. Then he shouted, “HELP, STAT!!! WE NEED HELP DOWN HERE!!!” He hit a red wall alarm and climbed onto the stretcher. He pumped with his good hand while Kyle hugged the wall for support. Brian.Dear God, NOOOOO! What was he doing here four days early? He never showed up anywhere early in his entire life. Personnel poured from the stairways and into the hallway. Eli jumped off and ran down the corridor, waving at the people pushing the stretcher back to the ER. “Come on, move it, MOVE IT!” Kyle stumbled after them in a daze. The seat of her pants dripped blood that splattered down to her green and white Nikes. Normally, the wetness would’ve driven her crazy. Now she watched and felt a cold nothingness. While her head throbbed with an excruciating ache. As if it were on fire. People ran past. Someone was shouting in the distance. Bodies crowded the main ER. Their faces were blurs. She stopped outside the door to Trauma. Inside, it was alive with a flurry of activity, but the noises were far away. Kyle stood alone, the Ghost of Christmas Past, looking in on people illuminated by the powerful overhead beams. As she stood there wobbling, the noise stopped. Suddenly, the frenzied motion ceased. White coats and pants came out singly and in pairs, silent, their heads hanging low. Eli came last, biting his lower lip. Only the solitary monotone of the cardiac monitor echoed through the door. Kyle dropped back against a wall and slid to the ground, a hand pressing into each temple to try and hold in the jackhammer pounding inside her head. Her mental and physical pains faded as she passed out into a black void.
Chapter Two
Seven Years Later
Pennsylvania Hospital, Eighth Street, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Graham Kurland, 6’ 5”, 230 pounds of sinew and muscle, strolled in the Pennsylvania Hospital parking lot like the former Purple Heart winner he was, a world-class warrior who’d traded his weapons for a scalpel and become a rising star surgeon of the medical world, as well as a renowned transplant researcher. If you looked closely, you could see his assurance and graceful gait almost concealed the limp he’d had after a grenade’s shrapnel shredded his leg. He was greeted by the occasional nurse who flirted, or a doctor who was in awe and/or jealous of the famous Dr. Kurland. But no matter how much attention he got—professional or personal—none of it ever went to his head. He either didn’t know or care how brilliant and easy on the eyes he was. He was excited about the surgery he was scheduled to perform. A double renal artery in a recipient kidney. Much more difficult to implant than a single renal artery. So his XXL brain was working out each detail, making contingencies for everything that could go wrong. The donor kidney had two arteries supplying it, rather than the typical one. This anomaly made it more difficult to connect the donor kidney into the kidney recipient. Couldn’t be done without a great team. They were very good. But were they great? He thought so. This was his last year of internal medicine residency. He had already finished his surgical residency and would be one of the select few in the country with Boards in Surgery and Medicine. He couldn’t have done it without his photographic memory. And his years as a kill-or-be-killed warrior. And a CEO who turned his dead father’s business into a cash cow. While raising his teenage brother. BAM! A car backfired loudly, like a shot being fired just outside the hospital. Suddenly, Graham was in the middle of a raging battle in the desert outside Kandahar, missiles and bullets flying. Eddie Severs, his ride-or-die best friend, was by his side. Eddie took one step towards him, and the whole world exploded as he stepped on an IED. Graham was thrown back, even as he saw Eddie blow up, blood and flesh flying as he screamed in agony and horror. Graham felt a hand on his shoulder, and he whipped around, fists clenched, fire in his eyes, face full of rage, in full fight mode. He snapped back to reality when he saw he was face-to-face with Nurse Beth Kelly, a fifty-something veteran of twenty-five years at Penn, the sweetest, kindest soul here. She was looking horrified at Graham’s hard, furious face, his body spring-loaded and ready to kill. The look of terror on Nurse Kelly’s face jolted Graham back to sanity. He saw what he was doing and was overcome with shame and embarrassment. He forced his face into a disarming, charming grin. “Sorry, Beth, oh my God, you scared the bejesus outta me. My apologies, I get a little wonky sometimes. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m really sorry.” Beth’s face changed from scared to neutral to thoughtful to understanding to kind. She nodded and smiled her sweet smile. “PTSD,” she said with an understanding nod. “My husband served in Desert Storm. Gee willikers, I know trauma’s a killer. I hope to heck you’re getting help.” “Oh yeah, I went through the program, I just get a little sketchy when I hear, uh…” “Loud noises? Like a gunshot. Or a car backfiring?” she gave him a wry little smile. “I get it.” “Thanks, Beth, I really appreciate that. Maybe we could keep this, uh, you know…” She made a funny little locking-her-lips-with-a-key gesture and did a slightly silly mock whisper. “What happens at Penn stays at Penn.” Graham laughed. Beth laughed. “Shall we?” Beth nodded and gestured towards the hospital. “Yes, we shall,” Graham said with his trademark aw-shucks animal magnetism as they walked through the parking lot and into the rest of their lives. *** Excerpt from Invisible Justice by Gary Brown, M.D. Copyright 2026 by Gary Brown, M.D. Reproduced with permission from Gary Brown, M.D. All rights reserved.
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About Author Gary Brown, MD:
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Dr. Brown is a retired professor and vitreoretinal (eyeball for civilians) surgeon. He performed over 40,000 operations in his award-winning career. Among his honors are inclusion in Marquis Who’s Who in the World and The Leading Physicians of the World. He served as the editor of three medical journals and has 650 publications and 12 medical/economic book authorships. This is his debut novel.
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Murder at the Agency: A Cassidy Blayne Mystery by Kylie Forsythe
Murder at the Agency: A Cassidy Blayne Mystery Cozy Mystery 1st in Series Setting: Fictional town of Brighton Lake, Wisconsin Publisher : Rowan Prose Publishing, LLC Publication date : August 11, 2026 Print length : 244 pages Paperback ISBN-10 : 1961967944 ISBN-13 : 978-1961967946 Digital ISBN-13 : 979-8230848561 ASIN : B0FMPGF53J
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“ An irresistible start to what’s sure to be a binge-worthy series.” -USA Today bestselling author Sarah Fox
Who knew the marketing world could be so dangerous?
Just when it seems like everything in twenty-eight year old Cassidy Blayne’s life is falling apart, a thrilling coffee shop encounter leads to the opportunity of a lifetime. Landing her dream job as Creative Director with an elite advertising firm in a nearby lakeside town fills her with renewed purpose. She’s no longer going to allow herself to settle, and resolves to rebuild her life on her own terms.
But from the moment she steps foot out of the elevator, she senses things may not be as they seem at Turner & Nash Advertising. Despite her wariness, Cassie puts all her energy into landing her first big account. Arriving early on the day of the presentation, she’s shocked to find one of the owners dead and herself a suspect.
She embarks on a desperate search for answers, unknowingly putting her and the people she cares about in danger. As she pieces things together with some help from her spunky new roommate, twin childhood best friends, an uptight detective, and a gorgeous up-and-coming rock star, warnings and threats escalate. It’s clear the killer will stop at nothing to keep her quiet.
Cassie must risk everything to unravel the murder before someone takes her off the market for good.
Fans of “Olive You To Death” by Lynn Cahoon or “A Limited Edition Murder” by Lauren Elliott will enjoy “Murder At The Agency” by Kylie Forsythe.
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About Author Kylie Forsythe
Kylie Forsythe writes cozy mysteries with smart amateur sleuths, close-knit groups of friends, and a touch of romance. Kylie is also a fourth-grade teacher and resides in Illinois with her husband, two daughters, and a rambunctious Weimaraner. When she’s not teaching, you can find her spending time with the wonderful family and friends she’s been blessed with, cooking, enjoying a good book or Hallmark Mystery movie, or crafting her next story.
