Posts Tagged ‘review’

Forever Boy by Michael J. Bowler ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: September 27, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, reviews, Supernatural, suspense
Tags: , , ,
2

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I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the FOREVER BOY by
Michael J. Bowler Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar
Book Tours.

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Check out my review and make sure to
enter the giveaway!

 

Title: FOREVER BOY

by Michael J. Bowler

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Pub. Date: September 24, 2024

Publisher: Michael J. Bowler Publishing

Formats: Hardcover, Paperback, eBook

Pages: 296

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Find it:  Goodreads, https://books2read.com/FOREVER-BOY 

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Outcast Isaac and popular Stephanie have barely spoken in all their years in school.
Now, in the ninth grade, their lives become intertwined with a strange boy from
eastern Europe named Drágan Albescu.

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Everything about Drágan is exotic, from his vintage style of dress to his
flowing long hair and delicate features. But he’s also shrouded in great
mystery.

He reveals that he’s a fashion model, so Stephanie searches his image on the
internet and discovers modeling photos dating back to the 1920’s. Then there’s
the valise Drágan carries that’s so heavy Isaac can’t lift it.

Drágan also possesses more knowledge and wisdom than all the teachers at
school, coupled with the uncanny ability to discern what others long to keep
private, a power that particularly frightens Stephanie due to her own dark
secrets.

Who is this enigmatic boy who becomes the best friend Isaac ever had? Why do
bullies at school suddenly stop their bullying? And what about the dead deer
found torn to shreds in the woods?

When Isaac and Stephanie learn the full truth about their new friend, they’ll
almost wish they hadn’t.

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MY REVIEW

This one was right up my alley. I enjoy mysterious and eerie stories written for the younger crowd. I’d love to have had more books like this to read when I was younger. I still enjoy them even though I’m an adult.

Isaac isn’t popular. He’s almost invisible to the other ninth graders in his school. Except for the bullies, unfortunately. That all changes when he meets Dragan. A strange boy. He acts much older than his age. Talks like someone much older. Dresses odd too. They form a friendship. Right from the beginning Dragan stands out. And people are drawn to him. Isaac is no longer alone. He’s got friends. And Dragan is his best one. He stands up for Isaac and others who are targets.

But, Isaac knows there’s more to Dragan than meets the eye. And one day Dragan shares his secret. And Isaac’s world is forever changed…. by the Forever Boy.

I read this straight through. I really wanted to know where the author was taking things. I had no idea and that made it hard to stop until I found out. And I loved the characters. How they formed a tight knit friendship. Supported and encouraged each other.  I’m hoping their stories continue as it’s listed as book one.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:

1

THE MYSTERIOUS BOY

Isaac spotted a boy
he’d never seen watching him as he wrangled a flying disc from high up in a
maple tree. He gripped the flying disc and squinted against the setting sun,
his gaze drawn to the new boy, who sported brown hair that fell in waves down
his back. His old-fashioned ankle-length coat had a cloak attached, and it
fluttered in the breeze. The boy looked back at Isaac, his eyes seemingly fixed
on him to the exclusion of all else.

Slightly disconcerted, Isaac slid the ring-shaped disc over one arm and
clambered down branch by branch. As soon as he dropped to the ground, two eager
young boys grabbed the disc and scampered away toward town without a word of
thanks.

“That was most inconsiderate of those youngsters,” said the strange boy as
he approached, “to not express gratitude for your assistance, especially after
you volunteered to retrieve their disc.” He stopped in front of Isaac and set
down his leather bag, a valise—at least that’s what Isaac thought it was
called. It looked like an antique gym bag.

“That’s how it is.” Isaac shrugged, then after a moment added, “Wait, you
saw what happened?”

“Yes,” the boy replied. “I’ve been observing you.” He wasn’t tall, about
Isaac’s height of five six. His voice, much like Isaac’s own, sounded on the
verge of adolescence, having perhaps just begun the change, but still boyish,
and he had an accent of some sort Isaac couldn’t place. It had traces of
British, but something else was mixed in.

“Why were you watching me?” Isaac shifted uncomfortably. The other boy’s
light brown eyes seemed to peer right through him.

“I was quite impressed when you assisted those young children. Most boys
our age would dismiss them with a curt word or two.” He extended his right
hand. “I am Drágan Albescu.”

“Your name is Dragon? That’s epic.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but it is spelled D-R-A-G-A-N, with an accent over
the first A.”

“Still, it’s the coolest name in Millwood,” Isaac gushed. “I’m Isaac
Foster.”

They shook hands and Isaac felt the boy’s strong grip, but he couldn’t take
his eyes off Drágan’s hair. He tilted his head and almost gasped at how long it
was—nearly to the boy’s waist.

“Your hair is amazing,” he gushed.

“Thank you. It has not been cut in some years.”

“No kidding.” Isaac chuckled. “I never had my hair real long. I don’t think
I’d want to spend so much time washing it.”

“It can be a burden, but there are reasons I keep it the way I do.”

Isaac could tell Drágan would provide no more details on that subject.

“I like your accent,” Drágan said in a conversational tone.

Isaac pulled a face. “I didn’t know I had one.”

“Oh, yes,” Drágan replied. “You pronounce the letter R at the end of a word
as an ah sound. For example, instead of Foster, it sounded like Fostah.
I like it.”

Isaac smiled. Drágan was unlike anyone he’d ever met. “Did you just move
here? Where’s your parents?”

“I’m new to Maine, but, alas, I am an orphan.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, man. Who you here with?”

“I’m traveling alone.”

“Yeah? You look my age.”

“I am fourteen as of my last birthday.”

Isaac grinned. “Cool. I just turned fourteen last week.”

“Congratulations on your birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“Perhaps you know of a boarding house in town where I may lodge during my
stay?”

Everything about Drágan confused Isaac, and yet everything also intrigued
him.

“Um, yeah, I do, but, uh, if you, you know, want company, I have an extra
bed in my room. My mom used to have foster kids, for which I got made fun of at
school cause my last name is Foster, but, um, anyway, I bet my mom would love
to have you stay, and I know I’d like the company. You wanna have dinner at my
house and we can ask?”

Drágan’s perfectly trimmed eyebrows rose in surprise. “We have only just
become acquainted, and yet you would have me in your home?”

Isaac shrugged. “My mom says I’m a good judge of people.”

“I am, as well,” Drágan replied, “and I shall be honored to dine with you.”
He picked up his large valise from the ground. “Truth be told, I’m rather
hungry.”

“Follow me.”

The boys left behind the expanse of tall, deciduous trees and strolled
across a bridge overlooking the placid Abenaki River, named, Isaac explained,
after one of the five Native American tribes to still live in Maine. After
passing over the river, they headed up a street fronting a row of houses, most
in the Victorian style and quite old. The narrow street, which had no room for
parking in front of the houses, wound around into the downtown area.

“There’s my house,” Isaac said, pointing to a white, two-story Victorian
without fancy adornments or cupolas. In back sat a large barn, which was
painted a dark red color and rose to the height of the house. With the onset of
dusk, tall trees cast long shadows across the roof.

“That barn is a garage on the bottom, and on the top floor is a rec room.
My mom holds parties there sometimes, but mostly it’s for me to play games in.”

Drágan’s eyes surveyed the house and barn appraisingly as a car drove past.
The driver waved to Isaac, and he waved back.

“A friend of yours?”

“Naw. He works at the drugstore. In this town, everyone pretty much knows
everyone.”

“Much like the village where I was born.”

Isaac was about to ask where, but they’d arrived at his house. He steered
Drágan up the cracked driveway to a side door and they entered.

“Mom? I’m home.”

“In the kitchen, honey” came his mom’s voice.

Just inside the door, there was a hallway leading around past an adjacent
sitting room to the kitchen. Directly in front as they entered were numerous
coat hooks on the wall, very useful during snowy winters. Isaac shrugged off
his parka and slipped it onto a hook with ease.

“You can leave your coat here.”

Drágan slipped out of his overcoat and hung it on a hook.

Isaac felt the material. It was thick and rough, and he liked the
ankle-length style.

“I have owned this coat for many years.”

Isaac stopped admiring the coat to gaze questioningly at Drágan. How many
years could he have had it since it fit him perfectly?

“I hear voices, Isaac,” his mother called from the kitchen. “Who’s with
you?”

“A friend, Mom.”

He gestured for Drágan to follow. They rounded a corner and passed through
the sitting room with an old wood burning stove. Beside it was Isaac’s favorite
reclining chair. On cold, snowy days, he’d curl up within its comforting
softness and devour book after book.

He led Drágan into the kitchen, where his mom stood at the counter chopping
vegetables. She wore an apron and had her shoulder-length brunette hair tied
back off her pleasant face. She broke into a warm smile.

“Mom, this is Drágan Albescu.”

Drágan stepped forward and bowed gallantly. “It is my great pleasure to
meet you, Mrs. Foster.”

She was taken aback by his greeting, but her smile grew ever broader. “Why
thank you, Drágan. What an exotic name and your clothes are amazing. Your whole
appearance, really.”

“Thank you,” Drágan replied.

“I invited Drágan for dinner,” Isaac interjected. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Penelope replied. “Your friends are always welcome.”

“Except I don’t have any,” mumbled Isaac.

Drágan eyed him but focused on his mom. “I am an accomplished chef if you’d
like some assistance.”

Penelope’s eyebrows rose in astonishment, and Isaac gazed at Drágan with
wonder.

“No thank you, Drágan,” Penelope replied. “But I appreciate the offer. Why
don’t you boys hang out in Isaac’s room, and I’ll call when dinner’s ready.”

“Thank you.” Drágan bowed once more.

Isaac tugged his arm. “C’mon, I wanna show you my room.” Flush with
excitement, he hurried from the kitchen, Drágan in tow.

They passed through the sitting room and out into the main hall. The floors
were hardwood, but the stairs leading up to the second floor were covered in
thick sky-blue carpet.

Isaac showed Drágan the two hallways on the second floor. One led to his
mom’s bedroom and the study, which she used as her home office. The other
passed the guest bedroom and a large bathroom before ending in Isaac’s room at
the rear of the house. It was the largest bedroom and had always been perfect
for Isaac to share when a foster child was a boy. Bunk beds rested against
Isaac’s back wall with chests of drawers along the adjoining wall overlooking
the driveway; a large wooden desk sat across the room beside a window looking
out at tall, majestic maple trees.

Drágan’s eyes swept the room, settling on the bookshelves above the twin
chests of drawers. Lining the shelves were meticulously detailed hand-painted
models of famous movie monsters, which Isaac had spent countless hours
crafting. With long slender fingers, Drágan picked up a model of the original
Wolfman from the 1940 Universal film. The monster bared its fangs at a lovely
young woman cowering before him.

Normally unsettled if anyone touched his models, Isaac instinctively sensed
that Drágan revered them as much as he did.

Drágan turned with the model in hand. “Do you believe Larry would’ve killed
Gwen when he grabbed her in the woods?”

Isaac was shocked that this boy would ask such a movie-geek question, but
figured Drágan must also love The Wolfman, so he dove right in with his
answer. “No. He loved her too much.”

“At long last, someone who agrees with me.” Drágan lovingly replaced the
figure on the shelf and studied the others.

Isaac gazed at him in surprise. “You’re a geek?”

“A what?”

“A geek. You know, someone who’s into pop culture stuff like horror
movies.”

A look of understanding enlightened Drágan’s face. “Ah, I understand. I
love the horror genre. In fact, Larry Talbot is my favorite character. His
struggles as the wolfman brought me near to tears on several occasions.”

Isaac’s heart pounded with excitement. “Me too! Especially when he was
finally cured. But those were tears of joy.”

Drágan regarded him as though doing a complete reevaluation. “You are the
first I’ve met to feel as I do. How fortuitous that we’ve made each other’s
acquaintance.”

Isaac felt stupid listening to the other boy speak and, if he were
honest—which he had no intention of being at that moment—he didn’t understand
half of what Drágan said to him. The boy was a walking dictionary!

“Uh, wanna sit down?” Isaac pointed to a beige-colored couch against one
wall.

Drágan nodded and lowered himself onto the couch, looking stiff and formal
while Isaac sat in his desk chair.

“Is the couch uncomfortable?” Isaac asked, worried he might have offended
the other boy.

“No,” replied Drágan, but his face looked tight and strained. “It’s merely
that I’ve never been in the bedroom of a youth my age. I’m accustomed to the
company of adults.”

Isaac’s mouth dropped open. He was appalled, but suddenly the other boy’s
high vocabulary made more sense. “Never? What about your friends?”

Still sitting up as though in a straight-backed chair, Drágan placed both
hands in his lap. “I’ve never had a real friend my age, at least not for any
significant period of time.”

Isaac was speechless. “I’m sorry, man. I mean, I have no friends either,
mainly cause I’m a geek and they all like sports and stuff. Plus, I wear
hearing aids, which makes playing sports suck big time.” He reached behind one
ear and slipped off a small hearing aid, holding it out to Drágan.

“I’ve heard of these small devices but have never known anyone who wore
them.” He turned the aid over in his hand. The unit was small with a tiny tube
leading to an earmold. “Are they effective at improving your hearing?”

He handed the aid back to Isaac, who deftly slipped it back onto his ear.
“First of all, thank you for not shouting. Every time I tell someone I’m hard
of hearing, they start yelling. Drives me crazy. Anyway, these work pretty
well. I control ’em with an app on my phone. But in noisy places or big sports
fields they aren’t so good. I can always hear the PE coach yelling at me, but I
don’t understand what he’s saying. Then he gets mad afterward and says I didn’t
listen.”

“My hearing is excellent, so I have no notion of how your life has been.”

Isaac shrugged. “I was born this way and have no idea what it’s like to
have perfect hearing, so I guess we’re even.”

Drágan nodded.

Now that they weren’t moving, he studied Drágan’s features and clothing
with greater scrutiny.

Drágan’s long, wavy hair was a light brown color and framed his soft
features, draped over his small ears, parted in the middle, and brushed across
both sides of his smooth forehead. His skin reminded Isaac of some dolls his
mother used to collect. What were those made of? Oh, yeah, porcelain. Drágan’s
skin was like perfect, unblemished porcelain, white to the point of being pale,
without the slightest indication that he’d ever had acne, which thankfully
Isaac hadn’t experienced yet either. Drágan’s eyebrows, the same color as his
hair, were slender and looked professionally trimmed. His lips were full, with
a slight reddish tint, really the only visible coloration on his face.

But it was Drágan’s eyes that held Isaac’s attention. The color of
hazelnuts, they seemed to dance with power. As they fixed on him, Isaac felt
himself sliding into oblivion. The sensation lasted only a split second, but he
would not soon forget it.

“Your clothes are cool, Drágan. Get ’em at a vintage clothes place?”

The boy’s long-sleeve shirt was baggy, almost like a pirate shirt, with a
small collar encircled by an old-fashioned tie that looked to be made of
leather. Over the shirt he wore a dark brown vest that looked quite old. Over
that was a suit jacket with the styling of an era long past. His pants were
navy blue, and his brown leather boots looked antique.

“With no disrespect to your own clothing, I prefer attire from past eras.”

Isaac wore jeans, a long-sleeve hoodie shirt and sneakers.

“I think you look great.”

Looking slightly more relaxed, Drágan asked about the film camera on
Isaac’s desk that rested beside a twenty-seven-inch iMac computer.

Happy to talk about something to break the awkwardness, Isaac picked up the
camera, a high-end model with a powerful lens.

“I plan to make my own movie. A horror film, of course.” Isaac realized
he’d begun rambling but couldn’t stop. “There’s this film festival in Bangor at
the end of next month, Halloween weekend, in fact, and there’s a category for
student filmmakers under eighteen. Big prize money too. But the best part is,
one of the judges of the horror films will be Stephen King. He lives in Bangor
and he’s my favorite horror writer. Ever read any of his books?” Out of breath,
he finally stopped and laughed. “Sorry, I get carried away.”

Drágan replied, “I’ve read many of Mr. King’s works. My favorite is Salem’s
Lot. I have an affinity for vampires, I suppose, in addition to
werewolves.”

Isaac broke into a huge grin. “That’s my favorite too. It really must be
fortui … what you said before that we met.”

“Fortuitous,” Drágan repeated without any condescension. “It means
fortunate. How many performers will be in your film?”

Isaac frowned. “Well, that’s the tricky part. There’s two leads and a few
smaller parts, but I don’t have any friends at school, so I’m thinking of going
to the next town over to audition strangers.”

“I have performing experience in my past,” Drágan commented without
boasting. “Alas, all on the stage, but I’d enjoy being of assistance.”

Isaac’s heart nearly burst. “That would be fantastic.”

“What does your story entail?”

“Well, you’d be playing a guy like Larry Talbot, except a kid, who’s a
werewolf.”

“And how would you create the transformations?”

Isaac indicated his computer. “I got some cool AI programs that can do
amazing stuff. Let me show⁠—”

“Boys, dinner’s ready!” came his mother’s voice from downstairs.

“I’ll show you after dinner.”

 

About Michael J. Bowler:

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Michael J. Bowler is an award-winning author
who grew up in Northern California. He majored in English/Theatre at Santa
Clara University, earned a master’s in film production from Loyola Marymount
University, a teaching credential in English from LMU, and a master’s in
Special Education from Cal State University Dominguez Hills. Michael taught
high school in Hawthorne, California, both in general education and to students
with disabilities. When Michael is not writing, he serves as a youth mentor
with the Big Brothers Big Sisters program and a volunteer within the juvenile
justice system in Los Angeles, but mostly he takes care of his recently adopted
son. He is a passionate advocate for the fair treatment of children and teens
in California and hopes that his books can show young people they are not alone
in their struggles.

Website | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook | TikTok | Tumblr | Pinterest | YouTube | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub

 

 

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Bearly Evident by Lois Schmitt ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: September 26, 2024 in Cozy Mystery, giveaways, reviews
Tags: , ,
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Bearly Evident by Lois Schmitt Banner

BEARLY EVIDENT
by Lois Schmitt
September 9 – October 4, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
A Kristy Farrell Mystery

 

When a body is found in the Happy Place Animal Sanctuary, wildlife reporter Kristy Farrell is on the case. She soon discovers this was no accident. It was MURDER!

Five people were present at the sanctuary when the death occurred. As Kristy digs deeply into the victim’s past, she uncovers dark secrets affecting each of these five suspects–powerful motives for murder. Meanwhile, life is anything but calm on the home front. The best friend of Kristy’s widowed mother is a victim of a pyramid scam. Kristy, assisted by her veterinarian daughter, is determined to expose the fraud although it may be at great personal risk. Back at the sanctuary, things are spiraling downhill. Wolves escape and another body is found. With the bad publicity, the sanctuary may be forced to close. And a killer is still on the loose! Despite being thwarted at every move by her nemesis, the blustery Detective Wolfe, Kristy uncovers a major hole in the alibi of a key suspect. But as she gets nearer to closing in on this killer, it looks a if she might become the third victim.

 

Book Details:

Genre: Cozy Mystery

Published by: Encircle Publications Publication Date: September 4, 2024 Number of Pages: 280 ISBN: 9781645995609 (ISBN10: 1645995607) Series: A Kristy Farrell Cozy Mystery, 4

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Encircle Publications

BEARLY EVIDENT
I started back for my appointment with the sanctuary’s business manager when I heard voices coming from behind a desk. I recognized one of the vices. I snuck behind to look and listen. “I know you want her job, and to tell the truth, I’d much prefer you,” Nick Lamonica said. “Why can’t you fire her?” asked the other man. I couldn’t see his face, but he wore orange leather boots. “Be patient,” Nick answered, “She may be gone sooner than you realize.” A woman’s scream pierced the air. Nick and the man in orange boots sped off in the direction of the scream. I raced after them. The screams had come from Gina Garone, the sanctuary director. She pointed to one of the animal habitats. Spread across the grass was a body. Hovering over the body was a mountain of fur with fangs. Bella the bear. *** Excerpt from Bearly Evident by Lois Schmitt. Copyright 2024 by Lois Schmitt. Reproduced with permission from Lois Schmitt. All rights reserved.
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MY REVIEW

Wildlife reporter Kristy Farrell never expected her research into The Happy Place Animal Sanctuary would lead her to something else. Something darker than a warm story about the animals rescued there. Never expected to be caught up in a tragic death. One of the caregivers was found dead in the bear enclosure. Why were they in there. Was it a mauling? Or something far more sinister? While digging into the incident, another body is found. Will the sanctuary survive the scandal? Will Kristy?

This was a humdinger of a mystery. I was often lead down the “garden path.” Pretty much the same one Kristy was on. I’d zero in a suspect and the why behind the incidents, and then be led another way. Hard to figure out mysteries are so fun.

And there’s more shenanigans for Kristy to unravel. An elderly friend of the family is lured into a pyramid scheme. I really enjoyed the team work displayed between Kristy and her daughter. I had high hopes they would sort things out and foil the bad guy.

Bearly Evident. Such a clever title for a clever mystery.

4 STARS

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About Author Schmitt:

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Lois Schmitt

A mystery fan since she read her first Nancy Drew novel, Lois Schmitt combines a love of mysteries with a love of animals in her series featuring wildlife reporter Kristy Farrell which includes Monkey Business, the first in the series, Something Fishy, 2nd runner-up for the Killer Claymore Award, and Playing Possum, Silver Falchion Award Finalist. Bearly Evident is the fourth in the series, but each book can be read as a stand alone. She is a member of several wildlife and humane organizations as well as Mystery Writers of America and the Long Island Author’s Guild. Lois worked for many years as a freelance writer and is the author of Smart Spending, a consumer education book for young adults. She previously served as media spokesperson for a local consumer affairs agency and often incorporates consumer scams into her books. She also taught at Nassau Community College. Lois lives in Massapequa, New York with her family which includes a 120 pound Bernese Mountain dog. This dog bears a striking resemblance to Archie, a huge dog of many breeds, featured in her mystery series.

For latest news on Lois visit : LoisSchmitt.com Goodreads Instagram – @LoisSchmittMysteries Facebook – @LoisSchmittAuthor

 

 

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Panic Peak by William A. Liggett ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: September 20, 2024 in giveaways, Interview, reviews, thriller
Tags: , , ,
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  Panic Peak by William A. Liggett
Category: Adult Fiction (18+), 254 pages
Genre: Cli-Fi Thriller 
Publisher: Consilience Press LLC
​Publication Date: February, 2024
Content Rating: PG-13: Very occasional f-word and sh*t in dialog

Book Description:

How can a single glacier grow dramatically while hundreds are shrinking around the world?

This paradox confronts a young glaciologist Kate Landry as she looks down at her research site buried under shocking mounds of new snow. Little does she know that Mount Olympus is in the bulls-eye for a sophisticated geoengineering experiment being conducted by a scientist who has convinced a secretive international oil cartel to fund his dubious climate modification techniques. While Kate struggles to understand why the glacier is growing and begins to unravel the entire nefarious scheme, she also struggles to avoid the unraveling of her developing relationship with social psychologist Grant Poole. The more Kate uncovers on the glacier, the more her own life is at risk. Can she expose the unethical and dangerous geoengineering operation without being caught before she’s stopped? And at what risk to her life?

BUY THE BOOK:
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add the goodreads
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MY REVIEW

I’ve only read a few cli-fi thrillers and after reading the synopsis I thought this was a good one to try. It didn’t disappoint, in many ways.

A mysterious iceberg that appears to be growing while others disappear. What’s behind that? Natural or man’s interference.

The setting, Mount Olympus. Subzero temperatures and isolated. Where the environment is an adversary. That’s something I really like in a story. A test of human endurance all it’s own.

A hidden agenda, along with the requisite villain. A must for any good thriller book.

And a female protagonist. One who’s double tough, self confident and willing to stick to what she knows is true. But also, flawed. Which makes her believable and makes you rout for her.

I thoroughly enjoyed Pain Peak and now want to see what else the author has to offer.

4 STARS

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Guest Interview with William Liggett, Author of Panic Peak

  • Your main character is a woman who is passionate about her research and teaching. How did you arrive at that?

I was raised in a family with a strong, well-educated mother and three sisters. I have always thought that women’s contributions should be respected as much as men’s. If we ignore the voices of female scientists, we are losing half of the knowledge we could otherwise gain.

I wanted Kate’s leadership and commitment to scientific knowledge and aspiration to save her glacier to inspire her students and others. Not everyone responds well to her passion for her work, which creates a challenge for my character, but also reflects the tension in our culture.

  • What inspired you to write a book about geoengineering?

After publishing my first cli-fi novel, Watermelon Snow, I was visiting with a climate scientist friend, Yaga Richter, who recommended that my next novel deal with geoengineering. She had been studying this controversial subject using computer models, and she described some of the concerns that her fellow scientists had. For example, someone might actually inject chemicals to block solar radiation without authorization. Also, unanticipated side effects such as droughts, floods, and wildfires could result from altering the climate. Since I began writing my novel, articles that describe geoengineering studies and concerns have increased exponentially.  It has become a hot topic.

  • Based on the scenes you describe it sounds like you’ve spent time on Blue Glacier. Can you say more about that?

Years ago, I lived in the research station on the side of Mount Olympus, Washington, between June and September collecting data as an employee of the University of Washington’s Blue Glacier Project. Our crew was flown to the station one at a time in a single engine ski plane that landed on the snow and took off down the side of the snow-covered mountain. Part of our assignment was to measure the depth and rate of flow of the glacial ice. This required us to carry equipment from the top to the bottom of the glacier while taking care not to fall into the deep crevasses along the way.  We learned to appreciate the raw beauty while skirting the many hazards. It was a perfect setting for an adventure (Watermelon Snow) and a thriller (Panic Peak).

  • Describe your next book in the Warming World Adventures series.

Panic Peak places Kate at the center of the action with Grant supporting her, often from a distance. It features her passion for her work, but also permits her scientific and mountaineering skills to shine. My next novel will feature Grant’s approach to combating global warming and will reflect his positive worldview. As a social psychologist, he sees ways to overcome the resistance to climate mitigation that others don’t see or agree upon.

Because I believe people are hungry for progress and good news about the climate, I’m thinking of setting my next novel in the future when humanity has gotten the climate under better control. Perhaps Grant is now in his 70’s and his granddaughter is eager to learn what he and others did to bring about the reversal of a climate disaster. I’m thinking of her documenting his story as a tribute to him and her grandmother, Kate.

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Meet the Author:

Bill Liggett writes fiction that blends behavioral and earth sciences in the recent cli-fi (climate fiction) literary genre. His goal is to paint a hopeful future based on solutions to global warming.

He holds a BS in geology and an MA in education, both from Stanford University, and a PhD in applied social psychology from New York University. Among the many positions he has held over the years, he taught in high school and college, conducted behavioral science studies for IBM, and consulted with health care and educational organizations.

Wherever he lives, he loves being outdoors. Home for him has included the West Coast, East Coast, Alaska, and now Colorado, the state of his childhood. He and his wife, Cathy, live in Niwot, Colorado.

connect with author:  website ~  X/twitter  ~ facebook ~ instagram ~ goodreads

 
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PANIC PEAK by William A Liggett Book Tour Giveaway

 

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Crossing Day by William A. Glass ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: September 17, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, reviews, YA
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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Crossing Day organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author William A. Glass 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.

Crossing Day

by William A. Glass

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Genre: Young Adult / Alternate History

Synopsis

It’s been one hundred and sixty years since the Confederacy won its independence at the Battle of Altamaha Crossing. Slaves of African descent still perform most of the work in the South. This seems normal to Ryan Walters and his friends who attend high school in Huntsville, Alabama. Like teens everywhere, they enjoy sharing videos, playing sports, and hanging out with friends. Jaybird’s drive-in is their favorite gathering place. There, they befriend Mish, a slave girl who works as a car hop. When the drive-in’s owner sells Mish to a dirty old man, Ryan and his friends awaken to the injustice around them. Despite the danger, they decide to help Mish escape. Will they succeed?

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MY REVIEW

Imagine if Hitler had won the war. And then imagine the German’s helped the Confederacy to win their war. Now flash forward 160 years. Modern times in Huntsville. Alabama. Kids play video games. Teens fall in love. If you’re one of the lucky ones, you live the good life. If you’re not, it’s poverty, slavery and, often, death.

I was first drawn to this book because it takes place in Alabama. That’s my stomping ground. I thought it would be intriguing to read about something that’s modern yet also dystopian. Something with an alternate history. The story was very compelling. There were lots of genuine characters. And the idea for the story was well played out.

When a book has me still thinking days after I finished it. Still with those what if thoughts, that really satisfies me. If it was ever made into a movie, I’d surely watch it.

4 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The referee blows her whistle and points to the Joseph Johnston High School goal. It’s a foul, just outside the penalty area. Hastily, several defenders form a wall. Liam Larsen, the goalkeeper, shouts directions.

“Block that kick, block that kick,” the Johnston cheerleaders yell.

Melanie Montgomery, wearing her purple and gold cheerleader outfit, catches the eye of one of the boys on the squad. He nods as she runs toward him and then leaps, placing her foot into his waiting hands. Melanie’s world dissolves into a swirl of color. She comes to earth with a thud.

“Nice landing,” the boy says.

“Thanks.” Melanie glances at the scoreboard and sees that despite their efforts, another goal has been added to the visitor’s tally. “I hate these German schools,” she pouts.

“Yeah, they act like they invented the game,” one of the other cheerleaders exclaims.

There’s no injury time added in high school soccer, so the match comes to a screeching halt when the clock winds down and the buzzer goes off. Most players line up to shake hands, but three of the Germans laugh and walk off. Their coach gives a Hitler salute to the Johnston stands. A chorus of boos greets his gesture.

“Everyone on the line,” Sam Gorman, the Johnston soccer coach, shouts. He crosses his arms and glares at his players threateningly until the whole team is on the touchline. “All right, Ryan,” he says to the team captain, “cool down.”

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About Author William A. Glass:

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Bill is a retired business executive who now lives in a small southern town with his wife, Bettina. She’s a retired high school German teacher. Bill coaches soccer at a small college. Often, Bettina, who has a commercial driver’s license, pilots the soccer team bus to away games.

Bettina and Bill have three sons, Alex, Robert, and Gordon who have all graduated from college and moved away to pursue careers. Instead of having an empty nest, Bettina and Bill now host three rescue dogs. They enjoy finding promising hiking trails to explore with their dogs.

Author Links: Facebook / Instagram / Twitter/X / LinkedIn / Goodreads / LibraryThing

Purchase Link: Amazon

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How To Make A Sandwich by Lorena M. Proia ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: September 11, 2024 in Children's books, giveaways, reviews
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Book Details:
  How to Make a Sandwich by Lorena M. Proia
Category:  Children’s Fiction (Ages 3-7), 32 pages
Genre:  Children’s Picture Book
Publisher:  Lorena M. Proia
Release date:   December 2023
Content Rating:  G.  It’s appropriate for children
(more…)

In The Pale Light by Westley Smith ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: August 22, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, reviews, thriller
Tags: , ,
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In the Pale Light by Westley Smith Banner

IN THE PALE LIGHT
by Westley Smith
August 12 – September 6, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

When Clay Graham and his family are found slain in the parking lot of his struggling business, the police suspect Clay’s troublemaker brother, Terry. Terry claims he was drunk the night of the murders and passed out at home. With little evidence against Terry to make an arrest, the case soon goes cold. Shunned from the community, harassed by the locals who believe he’s a murderer, and suffering from an undiagnosed illness, Terry lives alone on his farm, punishing himself for his past indiscretions. Then Pennsylvania State Police Trooper Henry Miller, who has ties to the town and the Graham murders, shows up with newly discovered evidence that kick-starts the case all over again. Now, before his illness kills him, Terry sets out, battling against small-town secrets and old grudges, racing against time to stay one step ahead of both the State Police and his own impending death, to finally find out what really happened to his family and hopefully prove himself and innocent man –if he is one.

 

Book Details:

Genre: Crime Thriller

Published by: Watertower Hill Publishing Publication Date: August 13, 2024

Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads | Watertower Hill Publishing

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MY REVIEW

Terry Graham is running out of time. He’s dying. And he needs answers. Answers to who killed his family and why. He’s consumed with thoughts of vengeance. The town and law enforcement long suspected him of the murders. When State Trooper Henry Miller comes back in town with new evidence on the cold case, Terry struggles to stay a step ahead and exact that vengeance.

Terry wasn’t a likable character. He drank too much. Fought too much. Had a hair-trigger temper. I tried to feel sorry for him. Reminded myself of his circumstances. It was hard, since his character hadn’t changed much since before the tragedy. I think that’s what really made the story work for me. I kept reminding myself of the victims and got behind Terry.

Terry also did a credible job of sniffing out witnesses and information on the murders. He didn’t always approach them in an agreeable manner but he was getting answers. Sifting through the self interest and lies and zeroing in. This kept the suspense ramped up. As Terry got closer to those answers, so did I. And I couldn’t wait to find out how it wrapped up.

A man out for vengeance. Not at all a sympathetic character. Yet, I was on his side. How cool is that!

5 STARS

 

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Enjoy this peek inside:
December 25th, 2015
The emergency lights from the Hickory Falls Sheriff’s Department Ford Interceptor flashed across the snow when it pulled into the Graham Video store parking lot. The sheet of white should have been untouched by tires at 6:45 a.m., and the snow-covered green Jetta, sitting in the far left-hand corner of the parking lot should not have been there. Two different sets of tire tracks cut through the pristine snow. One set belonged to the Jetta. The other set made a large circle in the snow before making its way back toward Main Street. The officer brought the SUV to a stop about five feet from the Jetta; its headlights bathed the car in the frigid darkness. Unable to see past the Jetta’s frosted snow-covered windows, a building sense of unease began to crawl over him, tightening the flesh to his bones. The officer’s shift had been easy that night. He had not responded to any emergency calls, nor had he had to pull anyone over. A Christmas miracle itself. But all that had changed fifteen minutes ago while he was patrolling Broke Run Road, when Sheriff Will Daniel’s voice came over the radio. “Call just came in. We got a report of shots fired at the Graham Video store. Caller says they saw a man running across the parking lot, carrying what appeared to be a shotgun. The suspect reportedly got into the passenger side of a blue sedan before it took off with two others inside. Need you to check it out,” Daniel had said. Why the hell is the sheriff in at this hour? the officer had wondered. Shouldn’t Susan be on the call desk? And what’s going on at the Graham Video store? Now on scene, with the first cracks of gray sky beginning to materialize through the night horizon, he radioed back into the station. “I’m at the Graham Video store. I’ve located a V-dub Jetta. It’s an early 2000s model. No sign of anyone else, including the reported blue sedan. Though there are two sets of tire tracks in the snow, indicating another vehicle was present.” He glanced at the video store’s entrance. There were no broken windows and no ajar door to indicate a robbery had occurred. The place appeared buttoned up tight. “No signs of a break-in, Sheriff. Getting out to inspect the vehicle.” “Ten-four,” Sheriff Daniel’s voice came back over the line. “Proceed with caution.” Again, the officer thought it was strange that the sheriff was in at that hour, and on Christmas morning. Where was Susan Green? She usually worked the overnight shift; she should still have been at the station, working the dispatch desk. Still, the officer knew, she could have gone home for any number of reasons—the holiday, the storm, or maybe a family member had fallen –ill—and the sheriff had filled in for her. Pushing the thought from his mind, the officer returned to the pressing matter at hand. Stay focused. Stay sharp. Stepping from the SUV, the blowing snow and driving wind bit at the officer’s exposed skin, penetrated his clothes. Zipping his jacket up to his chin, he started toward the car, trudging through the shin-deep snow. As he neared the Jetta, pelted with snow and ice so hard it stung, he noticed a set of footprints leading away from the passenger-side door toward the second set of tire tracks before vanishing. The tracks were nearly filled in with fresh powder, but it was unmistakable what they were. He assumed this was where the person had gotten into the second car—an old blue sedan. Looking back to the Jetta, he saw something smeared along the top of the passenger-side door. Whatever it was had frozen to a hard, ruby-colored substance. He eased in for a closer look. lood! Frozen blood. A strange tightness gripped the base of the officer’s neck as if Death had wrapped a cold, boney hand around him and begun to squeeze. His heart rate quickened. He placed his right hand on his sidearm and identified himself. “This is the Hickory Falls Sheriff’s Department. If there’s anyone inside the vehicle, would you please step out?” There was no reply. The car was dead still. The only sound across the parking lot was the howling wind and the ice pebbles hitting the closest metal lamp post. Not wanting to disturb what he believed to be blood on the passenger-side door, the officer lumbered through the deepening snow, around the front of the Jetta, to the driver’s side. Reaching down, he took hold of the handle and pulled. The driver’s side door was locked. He took a deep breath of cold air, sending what felt like ice daggers into his lungs as he tried to steel himself for what he might find inside. His teeth began to chatter, and an internal shudder tremored in his core and quickly expanded to the rest of his body. “I’m asking anyone inside to identify themselves and step out.” He waited, but when no one replied, he said, “If you do not comply, I will be forced to inspect the vehicle. Last warning.” Silence. No movement came from within. The car’s stillness bothered him—like it was dead. But that was impossible. Cars could not be deceased like humans or animals. So why was he getting the dreaded feeling that death emanated from it? Placing his gloved hand on the window, he brushed the light dusting of snow away and bent down to look inside. The officer recoiled at what he saw or who he saw staring back at him. His feet slipped out from under him, and he went down onto his backside, hard. Snow kicked up when he hit the ground, and for a moment he was cocooned in falling white powder, protected from what he had seen. But when the snow settled, the officer was again gazing at the driver’s-side door of the Jetta. There, he saw a man’s pale face pressed against the glass, the muscles twisted and tightened in agony. His eyes were open and locked directly on the officer with a vacant, lifeless stare, pleading with him, even in death, to save him. Too late. I’m too late to save you. The officer shot to his feet; snow fell off his uniform in large patchy clumps. And though the temperature was in the teens, he felt sweat break out across his back and forehead. Moving gingerly toward the Jetta again, the officer realized he knew the dead man looking back at him. Clay Graham—the owner of the Graham Video store. He removed his Maglite from his belt and turned it on. Bending, he shone the beam through the ice-crusted driver’s-side window and began to scan the car’s interior. That’s when he saw them. He pressed a gloved hand over his lips, suppressing the scream that wanted to leap from his throat at the horrific sight of carnage and death inside the Jetta. It wasn’t just Clay Graham dead inside the car but also his wife, Claire, and their teenage daughter, Sidney. *** Excerpt from In the Pale Light by Westley Smith. Copyright 2024 by Westley Smith. Reproduced with permission from Westley Smith. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Westley Smith:

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Westley Smith

Westley Smith had his first short story, Off to War, published when he was just sixteen. He is, more recently, the author of two horror novels, Along Came the Tricksters and All Hallows Eve, as well as the thriller Some Kind of Truth. His short fiction has been published in various magazines and websites. Wes lives with his wife and two dogs in the beautiful woodlands of southern Pennsylvania–the perfect place to hide a body.

Catch Up With Westley Smith: WestleySmithBooks.com Goodreads BookBub – @wssmith100 Instagram – @wsmithbooks Facebook – @westleysmith100

 

 

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A Cold, Cold World by Elena Taylor ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: August 15, 2024 in Excerpt, giveaways, Mystery, reviews
Tags: , , ,
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A Cold, Cold World by Elena Taylor Banner

A COLD, COLD WORLD
by Elena Taylor
July 29 – August 23, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
A Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery

 

A female sheriff tries to fill her late father’s boots and be the sheriff her small Washington State mountain town needs as a deadly snow storm engulfs the town, in this dark, twisty mystery.

The world felt pure. Nature made the location pristine again, hiding the scene from prying eyes. As if no one had died there at all. In the months since Bet Rivers solved her first murder investigation and secured the sheriff’s seat in Collier, she’s remained determined to keep her town safe. With a massive snowstorm looming, it’s more important than ever that she stays vigilant. When Bet gets a call that a family of tourists has stumbled across a teen injured in a snowmobile accident on a mountain ridge, she braves the storm to investigate. However, once she arrives at the scene of the accident it’s clear to Bet that the teen is not injured; he’s dead. And has been for some time . . . Investigating a possible homicide is hard enough, but with the worst snowstorm the valley has seen in years threatening the safety of her town, not to mention the integrity of her crime scenes – as they seem to be mounting up as well – Bet has to move fast to uncover the complicated truth and prove that she’s worthy of keeping her father’s badge.

Praise for A Cold, Cold World:

“Readers who appreciate the strong woman police chief in Linda Castillo’s Kate Burkholder books or the vivid landscapes of Craig Johnson’s Walt Longmire mysteries will appreciate Taylor’s riveting crime novel.” ~ Lesa Holstine, Library Journal Starred Review “Taylor perfectly captures the tension and determination of a small town sheriff facing down an isolating blizzard while racing against the clock to solve a murder and save a missing child. Sheriff Bet Rivers will be your new favorite character” ~ Lisa Gardner, #1 New York Times bestselling author “A terrific ensemble cast in a total immersion setting! Fans of CJ Box and Julia Spencer-Fleming will adore this novel – it’s whipsmart, completely cinematic, and full of heart. Not to be missed!” ~ Hank Phillippi Ryan, USA Today bestselling author of One Wrong Word “Sheriff Bet Rivers is back with a suspenseful and shrewdly plotted story of deadly small town secrets . . . Think Longmire meets Yellowstone” ~ James L’Etoile, award winning author of Dead Drop and Face of Greed “Tense and divinely atmospheric, this is the perfect book to curl up with on a cold winter’s day” ~ J.L. Delozier, author of the multi-award-winning mystery, The Photo Thief

A Cold, Cold World Trailer:

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Book Details:

Genre: Police Procedural, Mystery

Published by: Severn House Publication Date: August 6, 2024 Number of Pages: 256 ISBN: 9781448314065 (ISBN10: 1448314062) Series: A Sheriff Bet Rivers Mystery, Book 2 | Each is a Stand-Alone Mystery

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

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MY REVIEW

You know those movies? The mysteries that have you confused, yet fascinated and determined to figure out? I’ve sometimes rewatched some really twisty ones so I could try to spot clues I missed. That’s how this book was for me. I never really felt like I was close to figuring things out. Not that it took away from my enjoyment. Nope. In fact, the only reason I didn’t read it straight through was because I started it later at night and when I started feeling sleepy I stopped so I wouldn’t lose my edge. Got to keep the brain sharp to try and sort things out. Anyway, back to what I was saying. In some parts of the book I did a rewind. I paused and flipped back when something tickled my memory just to see if I’d found a connection, a bread crumb. When I finally got answers, I realized I’d never been close to figuring out the who and why. Gotta love that, right.

I like small town settings. I like connecting with characters. I like those that make brief cameos that make me think they might be important later in the book. I like a mystery that I can’t figure out. And I like bonuses, such as critter characters that add to the story. This book delivered on all of my likes. So glad it’s a series so I can get tangled up in the next mystery.

4 STARS

 

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Enjoy this peek inside:
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Bet Rivers sat in the sheriff’s station and watched the radar on her computer screen turn a darker and darker blue. Snow headed for the little town of Collier and keeping everyone safe was her responsibility. Bet’s advancement to sheriff had taken place less than a year ago, but the name Rivers had followed ‘Sheriff’ all the way back to the founding of the town. None of the previous Sheriff Rivers, her father included, ever failed the community, and she didn’t plan to be the first. With her father’s death last fall, Collier residents were the closest thing she had to family. The valley Bet protected sat high in the Cascade Mountain Range of Washington State. Winter storms often dropped a couple inches of snow at once, a situation Collier could handle, and winter had been relatively mild so far. February, however, was shaping up into something else. This morning, nearby Lake Collier – a dark and dangerous body of water the locals respected from a safe distance – started freezing completely over for the first time in years. Bet couldn’t remember such a large storm ever bearing down on the valley. The weather was determined to test her in ways that patrolling the streets of Los Angeles and her short stint as sheriff had not yet done. Clicking off the weather radar screen and opening another file, Bet read over her severe winter storm checklist. Snowplow – ready to go. Volunteers with tractors and trucks with snowplow attachments – set. The community center would be open twenty-four hours a day in case the town’s power went out and people needed a warm place to go. Donna, the elementary school nurse, was on hand for minor health emergencies. She would be staying at the center twenty-four seven until the storm passed. Most residents owned generators and a lot of people used fireplaces for heat, but the community center provided a central location for anyone in trouble. Nothing like living in an isolated mountain valley to make folks respect what Mother Nature hurled at them – and rely on each other, rather than the outside world. A lot of people would look to the sheriff as a leader. She couldn’t let them down. Bet turned her attention to the pile of pink ‘while you were out’ notes that Alma still loved to use rather than sending information to Bet digitally. Alma was much more than an office manager, but she also fought certain modern conveniences. Most of the notes were mundane issues that Alma could handle, but the last in the pile was a call from Jamie Garcia, a local reporter trying to get back into Bet’s good graces after an incident a few months ago had cost her Bet’s trust. Wants to chat about the possibility of an increase in drug use in the area, the note read. Specifically – meth. That would definitely have to wait. It crossed Bet’s mind that Jamie might exaggerate the situation just to have reason to touch base with her, but Bet taped it to the computer monitor to follow up on after the storm passed. Her valley didn’t have the kind of drug problems as many other communities, and Bet wanted to see it stay that way. If Jamie had any information on a rise in illegal activity, that could be useful. The rest of the notes she would return to Alma to deal with. Right now, weathering the tempest would take all of Bet’s resources. Bringing up the radar one more time, Bet’s stomach clenched as she tracked the monster storm. What if she made a decision during this event that hurt her entire community? Confidence didn’t make responsibility lighter to bear, and the hot, sunny streets of Los Angeles hadn’t prepared her for one thousand residents slowly buried under several feet of snow. They were a long way from the plowed highways and larger cities with fully functional hospitals. Bet was the first line of defense against disaster. She was also likely the last line of defense. Once they were snowed in, she couldn’t bring help in from the outside. A year ago, she had been poised to take the detective’s exam in Los Angeles. Her goal was a long and successful career in the nation’s largest police force. But events outside her control got in the way, and now she was back in Collier, trying to fill her father’s large, all-too-recently vacated shoes. She faced a once-in-a-century storm with her lone deputy, a septuagenarian secretary, and one very big dog. Her first instinct was to talk to her father, but his death prevented her from ever gaining new insight into his expertise. Her second instinct was to contact Sergeant Magdalena Carrera. Maggie had mentored Bet during her time at the LAPD. ‘We chicas need to stick together,’ she’d said to Bet early on in her career, back when Bet still called her sergeant. But as good as Maggie was at her job, Bet doubted she’d have much advice about facing a blizzard. ‘It’s up to us, Schweitzer,’ Bet said to the Anatolian shepherd sitting in her doorway. ‘As long as no one has a heart attack after the storm hits, we’ll be fine.’ Schweitzer had a look on his face like he knew what was coming. He always could read her mood, not to mention the weather, and he’d been edgy all morning. She had learned to read his mood too, and right now it wasn’t good. ‘It’s going to be all right, Schweitz.’ It surprised her to realize she believed her own words. She could handle this. Lakers – residents proudly took the nickname from their mysterious lake – could hunker down in their valley and survive on their own. Everyone in town knew that if snow blocked them in and a helicopter couldn’t fly, they had no access to a hospital. But Donna was good at her job too. Plus, it would only be for a couple of days. The phone on her desk rang, jarring her from her thoughts. As long as the ring didn’t herald an emergency, everything would be fine. Bet rolled out in her black and white on the long teardrop of road that circled the valley. She didn’t turn on her siren; there wasn’t anyone on the loop to warn of her approach and the sound felt too loud, like a scream into the colorless void. The emergency lights on top of her SUV stained the white unmarked fields of snow on either side red, then blue, then red again, like blood streaking the ground. Her studded tires roared on the hard-packed snow, the surface easy to navigate – at least for now. The drive to Jeb Pearson’s place took less than twenty minutes, even with the worsening conditions. Pearson’s Ranch sat at the end of the valley farthest from the lake and the town center. The ranch occupied an area the locals called the ‘Train Yard’, though that name didn’t show up on any official maps. Long ago, the roundhouse for the Colliers’ private railway perched there at the end of the tracks. The roundhouse was a huge, wedge-shaped brick structure, like one third of a pie with the tips of the slices bitten off. It was built to house the big steam engines owned by the Colliers. The facility could hold five engines, each pulled inside through giant glass and iron doors. Engines could be parked and serviced inside the roundhouse, while an enormous turntable sat out front to spin the engines around, sending them down different tracks in order to pass each other in opposite directions. It was unlikely the Colliers ever housed five engines up here all at once, but they owned other mines around the state and had used engines in other places. It must have been reassuring to know that if they ever needed to, they could bring their assets up here, protected in their high-elevation fiefdom. Jeb used the property as a summer camp for boys who struggled with drug and alcohol addictions and guesthouses for snow adventure enthusiasts during the winter. Jeb lived there year-round, with a giant Newfoundland dog named Grizzly, a half a dozen horses, and one mini donkey named Dolly that helped him rehabilitate the boys. Bet pulled up in front of the roundhouse. The cabins and other outbuildings stretched away from where she parked, with the barn the farthest from the road. The pastures were empty with the storm bearing down, the animals all safely tucked away in their stalls. Jeb stood out front with two bundled figures that must have been the father and son who were currently staying at his place. A third member of their party, the mother, was nowhere to be seen. Bet got out of her vehicle and walked over to where two of Jeb’s snowmobiles were parked, running and ready to go. Layers of winter clothing padded Jeb’s wiry form, his face ruddy in the arctic wind. ‘What have we got, Jeb?’ ‘Mark and Julia Crews and their son Jeremy came across what looks to be a solo wreck up on Iron Horse Ridge. They didn’t have any details about the driver’s condition, so I’m not sure what we’re looking at. The parents wanted to protect their son and got him out of there before he could see anything gruesome. These two came down to get me while Mrs Crews stayed with the injured rider.’ Bet nodded to the man standing a few feet away. Only part of his face was visible through the balaclava he wore. His eyes looked haunted. ‘You did the right thing,’ she said to him. ‘If the driver’s got a spinal injury, you could have done more damage than good trying to bring them down.’ She didn’t add that if the driver was dead there was nothing to be done except locate the next of kin. ‘Thanks, Sheriff,’ Mark Crews said, his voice shaky. ‘That was—’ Emotion cut off the man’s words. He reached for his son and pulled him close. The boy didn’t resist, but he also didn’t hug his father back. Bet considered checking the boy for shock, but guessed he was just a teen being a teen. She gave Mark a nod and hoped the accident victim survived the wait – otherwise Mark Crews would always wonder if he should have made a different choice. The father got his emotions under control and turned his attention back to Bet. ‘Please get my wife Julia down safely.’ Jeremy might be shocky, but the two people up on the ridge were her priority. ‘Always prioritize,’ Maggie said to Bet on a regular basis. ‘Don’t get caught up trying to fix everything at once. Fix the big things first.’ Her father would have agreed. His voice no longer took precedence in her mind, but his teachings never left her. Bet promised to take care of Julia Crews and walked over to straddle the closest snowmobile. Pulling on the helmet she’d brought, she tucked her auburn curls out of the way before closing the face shield. Bet admired the Crews family for helping a stranger as the ominous storm bore down on the area. It must be terrifying to know Mrs Crews waited up on the ridge as the weather closed in. Bet was impressed the family put their own safety in jeopardy for someone they didn’t know. Not everyone would do that. It would have been easy enough to pretend they never found the accident, leaving the driver alone in the snow. Jeb hopped on the other snowmobile, which was already set up to tow the Snowbulance – a small, enclosed trailer with a stretcher mounted inside. Bet made eye contact with Jeb to confirm she was ready, and they took off with him in the lead. Search-and-rescue was Jeb’s specialty, and he knew the terrain better than she did. Her father Earle always said a good leader knew when to follow. Like most of her father’s advice, Bet knew it was true even if her instinct was never to admit someone else was the right person for a job she could do. In her defense, her father never faced life in law enforcement as a woman. Maggie always said, ‘Never let a man think he’s got control. If you hand control over, he’ll never give it up.’ Bet wasn’t her father, but she wasn’t a patrol officer in LA, either. Sometimes neither Maggie’s nor her father’s advice was any help to her at all. Not far from the ranch, Jeb turned off the main road and started up a forest service road that went west and north into the mountains. The turnoff wasn’t obvious, so it was interesting that the Crews had found that particular trail. Snowmobiling was a popular sport in Collier and a lot of people used these forest service roads for trails, even the ones that were officially closed to traffic because there were no funds for maintenance. Without anyone to police the extensive system, the locals used them as their own private playground. The roads connected in a complex web throughout the area. The injured teen could have arrived at the ridge from any direction. The forest was riddled with paths that the forest service no longer had the money or workforce to keep up, but people and animals kept cleared. In a lot of ways, the community benefited from the interlopers who cleared the roads, because that provided fire access into their local forest, which would otherwise become impassable through neglect. If the brunt of the storm held off long enough for them to locate the scene of the accident and get the injured teen down the mountain before the conditions worsened, everything should still be all right. Bet kept her focus on Jeb’s sled as they rode up the hill. The road turned dark as they got farther into the trees and the cloud cover grew almost black. She was glad for the headlight and someone she trusted to follow. At least in this moment, her father’s advice was right. If only the injured rider survived the wait. *** Excerpt from A Cold, Cold World by Elena Taylor. Copyright 2024 by Elena Taylor. Reproduced with permission from Elena Taylor. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author Elena Taylor:

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Elena Taylor, CREDIT MARK PERLSTEIN

Elena Taylor spent several years working in theater as a playwright, director, designer, and educator before turning her storytelling skills to fiction. Her first series, the Eddie Shoes Mysteries, written under the name Elena Hartwell, introduced a quirky mother/daughter crime fighting duo. With the Bet Rivers Mysteries, Elena returns to her dramatic roots and brings readers much more serious and atmospheric novels. The series introduces Collier, Washington, with its dark and mysterious lake, tough-as-nails residents, and newly appointed sheriff with her sidekick Schweitzer, an Anatolian Shepherd. Elena is also a senior editor with Allegory Editing, a developmental editing house, where she works one-on-one with writers to shape and polish manuscripts, short stories, and plays. If you’d like to work with Elena, visit www.allegoryediting.com. Her favorite place to be is at Paradise, the property she and her hubby own south of Spokane, Washington. They live with their horses, dogs, and cats. Elena holds a B.A. from the University of San Diego, a M.Ed. from the University of Washington, Tacoma, and a Ph.D. from the University of Georgia.

Catch Up With Elena Taylor: www.ElenaTaylorAuthor.com Elena’s Blog: The Mystery of Writing Goodreads BookBub – @elenataylorauthor Instagram – @elenataylorauthor Twitter/X – @Elena_TaylorAut Facebook – @ElenaTaylorAuthor

 

 

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A Carrow’s Murder by Annabelle Lewis ~ Review And Author Interview

Posted: August 9, 2024 in Humor, Interview, Mystery, reviews, Romance
Tags: , , , ,
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Book Details:

​Book Title: A Carrows Murder (The Carrows Family Chronicles, Book 10) by Annabelle Lewis
Category:  Adult Fiction 18+, 286 pages
Genre: Mystery/Crime/Romance/Humor
Publisher:  PePe Press
Release Date: June 2024
Content Rating:  PG13 +M: My book has cursing. The f-bomb. Sexual flirting but closed-door action. ​

A Note from Annabelle Lewis:

Welcome to the latest installment of The Carrows Family Chronicles. Don’t let the words Book 10 scare you! Dive into the adventure without the need for exhaustive backstory, as each page unfolds with its own excitement, color, and twists. While my characters’ pasts enrich their present journeys, rest assured that you can fully immerse yourself in this standalone tale. Prepare to be swept away by the twists, turns, fashion, humor and discoveries awaiting you within these pages.

Book Description:

A Crafty Plan. A Healing Sojourn. A Deadly Twister.

Royal Dutton, close friend and stylist for Charles and Angelica Carrows, has a broken heart and he’s falling to bits. Disturbed by Royal’s escalating depression and dangerous choices, the London-based Carrows family decide to distract Royal with a vacation to an English castle on the dazzling eastern shores of Yorkshire, Britain.

Well-intentioned, they plan a murder mystery using the villagers near the castle as characters who will each play a role in convincing the unsuspecting Royal that there is a murder to be solved for a real-life person.

It should have been fun.

But there are unforeseen consequences. The small town of Boswell Crag and its eccentric villagers will never be the same.

​And someone . . . will not survive.

Buy The Book:
Amazon
add to goodreads
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MY REVIEW

First things first. I have this thing where I have no compunctions about jumping into a series anywhere. I was a bit worried about it with this book as it’s the tenth in the series. I’m thrilled to say I had no issues about it being so far along. I was immediately captivated by the characters and the plot. Everything flowed so easily.

About the plot. A fake murder mystery event at a castle. How fun. I once did one of these on a ferry boat cruise. Highly recommend you do it if you have the chance. Of course, someone ends up dead, for real. And let the sleuthing begin. It’s not an easy solve. I always love that. And I really enjoyed the characters frustrations and fears as they tried to figure out the who and why while also making sure they aren’t a target for the killer.

This was a straight through read for me and I finished it in a couple of hours. If this book is any indication of the author’s other ones, I can’t wait to read more.

5 STARS

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Interview With Author Annabelle Lewis
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Tell us about a favorite book when you were a kid

I fell in love with books early. Fairy tales, picture books, comic books—Peanuts, I devoured what I could at home until I was old enough to pedal my bike alone to the library. There I spent hours roaming the stacks, amazed by every single volume and frustrated with giddy anticipation that there were so many worlds to explore and choices to be made. But the real favorite and love of my life came when I found the Chronicles of Narnia. I was never the same after entering that world and from that point on was reading whenever I found a moment to spare. Annabelle Lewis is a pen name and Lewis—is a humble hat tip to the great man who wrote the Narnian world – C.S. Lewis.

What is the last great book you’ve read?

I don’t know that it’s the greatest book in the traditional sense of what might qualify for that title, but I actually fell on the floor laughing while reading the book FU Penguin. Since it almost made me pee in my pants, I think that qualifies the book as something particularly special. The book is a farce – a collection of raging rants or blogs from a hysterically funny man named Matthew Gasteier who for no reason takes on cuddly pictures of animals and rages at them with absurd and foul-mouthed glee. I loved every single page of his absurd and twisted sentiments. Not everyone’s cup of tea to be sure, but damn, it worked for me! Thank you for the belly laughs, Matthew!

How many books have you written and which is your favorite?

It’s hard for me to choose, but I wrote a short story called Caliburnus that is very personal to me. It’s not part of a series, just a fictional story based on my journey as a special needs mom. It’s about a mother’s dream and the ache of hope. https://theannabellelewis.com/caliburnus-2/

Regarding time frames, what is your favorite era to work with and why.

My work is contemporary fiction. I’ve placed the story in the “now,” and this definitely has its drawbacks. Even before the work can be published, advancements and the use of technology, slang, trends, and societal developments vex me and my characters. I worry about the work holding up but hope that years from now the storytelling itself will still be enjoyable enough to accept.

Talk about how you outline a book

The process can vary, but I always have a broad outline in my head of what the book is about. It’s the ‘elevator pitch’ I would present if given 10 seconds to explain the synopsis while trapped in an elevator. Then I layer on the story with characters, and timeline, and events. Then I build a storyboard with a short explanation of what happens in each chapter. Often, however, I’m just dying to write the story and begin. Consequently, my characters often totally screw up my outline and I have to follow them where they take me. The story will often change, but the overall idea will not.

How long have you been writing?

In hindsight, I think I have always been writing. It began with journaling, and I often worked out my angst or issues after putting them on paper and looking at them. And I read books, all the time. As many as possible. When I became a mom, I started writing short stories about my children to capture the feel and memory of a moment or event. And my own mom always encouraged me to write a book, telling me over and over “I know you have a book in you.” But I didn’t really try until my children had graduated from high school and the activity level in the house decreased. One day, I drafted the first outline of Charlotte McGee, Book 1 of the Carrows Family Chronicles, and never looked back. I wish I had taken my mom’s advice and begun writing fiction earlier!

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Meet Author Annabelle Lewis:
​
Annabelle Lewis—a pseudonym—is a Minneapolis-based, multi-genre writer, dog lover, incredible mom, and champion of the screwed over. In addition to her touching, yet oddly scathing blog posted on her website, she’s published two exciting fictional series.

The Carrows Family Chronicles are humorous and vengeful caper novels. If you’re interested in a light romp about a family of well-dressed billionaires serving yummy revenge to a string of unsuspecting bad guys who have it coming, look no further.

The second series—The Boston Clairvoyants—is also a set of good versus evil stories. These psychic mystery/thrillers have been edited so they could be read as stand-alones, but as Glinda the Good Witch says – “It’s always best to start at the beginning.” The books have a supernatural hierarchy, a wee bit of romance and mythology, and a solid sense of humor. Lovers of dogs and Dean Koontz fans will adore these books.

Annabelle typically sends out two newsletters a month—so she promises not to annoy her subscribers too much. They typically contain feverish reviews on the latest stuff she is watching or reading, links to book giveaways, contests to win a signed paperback, and book browsing for other author’s work.

​Oh, and a warning. Annabelle loves to curse. And there is cursing in her books and her blogs . . . because she’s gotta keep it real.

Connect with the Author:  Website ~ X/Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Pinterest ~Instagram ~ Bookbub ~ Goodreads

 

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To Preserve, Protect, And Destroy by Matthew D. Saeman ~ My Review

Posted: August 7, 2024 in reviews, Science Fiction, suspense, thriller
Tags: , , ,
0

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.

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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.

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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

 

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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).

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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.

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About Author Matthew D. Saeman:

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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

 

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Killer Weed by Manning Wolfe ~ Review And Giveaway

Posted: August 6, 2024 in giveaways, reviews, thriller
Tags: , ,
2
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

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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

 

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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:

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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

 

 

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