Posts Tagged ‘thriller’

 

The Last Summerville

By Annabelle Lewis

 

Publication date: September 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Psychological Thriller, Romance, Suspense, Thriller

Twenty-two-year-old Georgia Parker already carries more regret than most people twice her age. Practically an orphan, she’s reeling from the death of her grandmother, Mimi—the one person who made her feel safe from the chaos of her mother’s world. Alone in Carson City, Nevada, Georgia is determined to start over, to stand on her own. Yet Mimi’s final words echo in her mind: Take risks. Trust people again. Be brave.

Then Heath Summerville steps into her life—charming, magnetic, protective, and so perfectly attuned to her needs it feels like fate. But the closer Georgia gets, the more she feels the pull of something she can’t name—something just beneath the surface of his charm.

Strange silences. Half-truths. High-society circles and an ancestral house that feels more like a trap than a refuge.

Lies are waiting to unravel. And by the time Georgia sees the truth, it might already be too late.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

CHAPTER 1:

“Get me out of this godforsaken town and back to civilization,” Vicky grumbled.

Georgia, behind the wheel, glanced at her mom, Vicky, who was shakily applying lipstick while looking in a handheld compact mirror. Vicky clicked it shut, then pulled down the passenger visor, only to find the old car devoid of a larger mirror. She swatted it back up, then garbled a sound of exasperation before diving back into her purse in search of something else.

Georgia didn’t see the lure of Las Vegas like her mother did. It was one of many differences between them. “No!” she suddenly exclaimed when Vicky put a cigarette to her lips, intending to light it. “Not in the car.”

“Why are you such an old damn scold, Georgia?” Vicky scowled. “You’re twenty-two years old, for fuck’s sake. Your holier-than-thou bullshit has gotten worse. Every time I see you.”

Vicky shook her head, then turned to stare out the window. Georgia swallowed back the words she wanted to throw in her mom’s face.

Not today. Not after all they’d been through.

They spent the rest of the drive to the Carson City airport in awkward silence. Georgia pulled to the curb at the departures area and then walked to the back of the Ford Bronco to help retrieve the bags. Vicky took them, mumbled goodbye, and walked away without a hug.

“Goodbye, Mom,” Georgia called loudly as she shivered in the cold, standing next to the back of her Mimi’s Bronco. She watched Vicky drag her bag, her head bowed, her eyes already on her phone. She didn’t turn to give Georgia one last look of goodbye, nor acknowledge Georgia’s use of the tender moniker of “mom,” rather than the usual “Vicky.” It hurt. But why Georgia expected Vicky to suddenly become maternal was the bigger question. And neither of them had made falsely loving or empty promises to keep in touch.

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About Author Annabelle Lewis:

Annabelle Lewis—a pseudonym for the author—lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Regrettably? Perhaps. She still believes she’s a Texan even though the math no longer supports that. Nor her birthplace. Nor her residence. No offense, Minnesota. You’ve got your good points too, but only about six months of the year.

In her youth, Annabelle was a complete failure. Ask anyone who knew her. Any of her teachers and family would tell you this. High school graduation was a sad day for all when Annabelle walked proudly off the high school stage, her thoughts consumed with boys, beer, and after-parties, and later into the arms of her parents. Her father’s laughter and singular remark? “I didn’t think you’d make it. Get a job at the post office, they have a good retirement plan.”

A high bar and words to live by, but Annabelle wanted more. She needed to flunk out of college too. But damn, she sure did have a good time. Trivial arrest records not-withstanding, it was a growth period for our girl. And if you look closely, you’ll see a bit of what was to come when she majored in criminal justice. Her lifelong aspiration was to become a judge. Hmm.

For better or worse, Annabelle didn’t graduate from college but did find gainful employment and a fulfilling career. This path ended when she became a mom. Married to her wonderful George, who to this day can hardly remember an actual proposal, Annabelle finally became a mother. She didn’t have a clue how hard she would need to work to keep those self-imposed requirements of Downey-fresh, iron-pressed sheets, home-baked meals, and mom-of-the-year awards arriving. She composed a small self-affirmation song and made her children sing it to her for money. She was a very good mom.

After clearing the largest hurdles of motherhood and regrettably, begrudgingly, and not-without-tears, launching her children onto the world, she looked around and realized she had a lot to say. Picking up a laptop, she got to work.

Annabelle spends her days continuing to tackle the challenges of motherhood, for both her humans and canines. She also writes. And reads. And cleans. And cooks. And bakes. And cleans again. She also supports her husband, George, in an administrative capacity for their small business. She’s in charge of payroll and cuts George’s checks. This leads to no marital acrimony.

In the beginning, with the blank page staring at her and possibly in a hostile mood after being literally mauled by a dog and by the world in general, she had an idea. What if she could wield a force of good upon unsuspecting evil-doers? What if she had the resources to get the job done without dealing with committee and anyone else’s whiney-ass opinions?

It was gold. It took off. Annabelle sat down and began to write and couldn’t stop. To date, having written over a million words in the Carrows Family Chronicles and her second series on the Boston Clairvoyants, several items have become quite clear. Annabelle had a lot to say. Annabelle really enjoys writing. And although she hates all things technology, she begrudgingly pounds her head on her desk daily as obstacles are thrown in her path. Almost a hero.

Since entering her world of make-believe, she has rebelled against all intrusion of real-world responsibilities. Her house is a mess, but she tries. Her family is fed, but more often than not, on takeout. She vows to shower every day, but no, it’s a vow she’ll never keep. Her friends are neglected, but not in her heart.

Read her mordacious blog! Read her books! Follow her on social platforms! Sign up for her newsletter! These are all good things. What are you waiting for? Jump into bed with Annabelle. She’s having a swell time. You should join her. theannabellelewis.com annabellelewisauthor@gmail.com IG and Twitter: alewisauthor

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GIVEAWAY

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The Last Summerville Blitz

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TEMPERATURE RISING by Joel Burcat Banner

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TEMPERATURE RISING
by Joel Burcat
August 17 – September 11, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

 

A deadly secret. A dangerous game. How much is she willing to sacrifice to expose the truth?

Anna Freeman never expected a routine errand to change everything. But when the ambitious law student and environmental activist retrieves a harmless videotape on energy policy, she unknowingly steps into the heart of a ruthless conspiracy. Powerful lobbyists, corrupt politicians, and billion-dollar interests will do whatever it takes to keep their secrets buried—and now, Anna is in their crosshairs.

Before she realizes it, she’s pulled deep into the very system she once despised, embraced and seduced by those orchestrating the cover-up. They think she’s one of them. But Anna has other plans. Working undercover for The New York Times, she’s determined to expose the truth—no matter the cost. The only problem—she falls in love with the industry’s most trusted lobbyist.

With every step she takes, the danger intensifies. Lies mount. The deeper she infiltrates, the harder it becomes to save herself and her friends from the ultimate outcome. When the threats turn personal, Anna faces an impossible Will she risk everything—her career, her relationships, her friendships, even her life—to bring the truth to light? Or will she be silenced before she has the chance?

Temperature Rising is an electrifying political thriller packed with pulse-pounding suspense, forbidden romance, and high-stakes deception. As Anna races against time, one thing becomes clear—some secrets are worth killing for.

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Praise for Temperature Rising:

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“A timely and poignant thriller of political machinations, threats and lies. I enjoyed Temperature Rising, it heats up quickly and burns hot.” ~ Robert Dugoni, New York Times Bestselling Selling author

“Burcat’s sharp execution offers plenty of surprises. The timely boardroom intrigue offers plenty of thrills. An intriguing conspiracy tale that finds fresh energy in familiar power struggles.” ~ KIRKUS Reviews

“Original, deftly crafted, compelling, and a wild ride of a suspense thriller from start to finish.” ~ Jim Cox, Midwest Book Review

Book Details:

Genre: Political Suspense Thriller

Published by: Milford House Press Publication Date: June 16, 2026 Number of Pages: 289 ISBN: 979-8888193587

Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Sunbury Press Bookstore

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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Chapter 40

A familiar sound awoke Anna.

Click-click-click.

The sound floated through her head. It stopped. Then it began again.

Click-click-click.

Anna sat up with a start.

Silence. She went to the door and held her breath. Nothing. Just the humming and buzzing from the electrical systems. A clock ticking down the hall. Slowly, she tiptoed to Connor’s office. She stood behind a stack of file cabinets and looked. Dim light leaked under the door. Anna froze. Anna wanted to run away, but she slowly walked closer. It was dark. No steel balls clicking. The only light at this end of the floor was from the streetlights. She calmed herself as she realized that the streetlights cast a glow into the window near Donna Russell’s desk. She hoped that was the light she saw. “Mr. Connor?” Anna whispered. Silence. She lightly tapped on his door. “Mr. Connor?” she said more loudly. Quiet. Slowly, Anna tried the knob. It was locked, but not pulled shut all the way. She was sure it had been locked tightly when she tried it before. She pushed the door open. The room was dark, illuminated only by the streetlight from outside. The desk was empty except for Newton’s cradle. It swayed back and forth, the way it did as it was coming to rest. Conservation of momentum. Conservation of energy. Anna gasped. Why was it moving? “Mr. Connor?” she said more loudly. She looked around the office. No reply. She quickly looked behind Connor’s big leather chair. Nothing. “Mr. Heftig?” Silence. Slowly, Anna turned and looked behind the door. She felt a creeping sensation on her back. The fine hair on her neck stood up straight. Nothing. Slowly, she continued turning to survey the entire office. Then she jumped. The air conditioner clicked on and a woosh came through the vent. A mountain range of goosebumps rose on her bare arms. She looked at the desk. The Newton’s cradle was swaying in the breeze. She held her hand over the toy. The AC blew directly onto it. Just enough to make the balls click together quietly. They swayed in the breeze from the vent. Together. All five balls. Had this always been the case? Was the office so noisy during the day that she hadn’t noticed the quiet sound? Anna took a deep breath, backed out of the office, and pulled the door until it clicked shut. As she returned to her office, she glanced at the clock. It was 4:15. She was fifteen minutes late to meet Dread. “Oh crap.” Anna shot down the hallway to the freight elevator. It seemed to take forever to come to her floor. As the door closed she remembered something and stuck her hand into the narrow opening, pushing the rubberized safety bar and making the door open. She ran to room 2-Y and used her key to get back inside. She grabbed the beat up briefcase from the corner, the one with SOF stamped on the side, and ran back to the elevator. The elevator slowly descended to the basement. No matter how many times she pressed the button, it went at the same annoying speed. She worked her way through the maintenance room and placed the cardboard into position at the door. She put the briefcase in the corner on the loading dock. Then she hustled to L Street and looked up and down. No Dread. No people. Not even a taxi. The air was chilly and Anna regretted forgetting to put on her sweater, which was draped on her chair in her office. She walked up and down the street and didn’t see any sign of Dread anywhere. She looked at her watch; it was 4:20. “Damn. Damn. Damn.” Finally, a pair of headlights approached on L Street. The car was moving slowly. A big, dark green SUV, a Suburban with an extended back, pulled up and stopped. The driver wore a flannel shirt and had a beard. Anna thought she recognized him from the bar in New Jersey. He smiled pleasantly at her. Anna smiled at the man. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Anna. Sorry, I was late.” “Hey there, Anna. Call me Jack. Don’t matter to me, baby.” “Did it take you a while to get here?” “Hours. Been looking for you for a while.” “Sorry. I fell asleep. Are you ready to do this?” Anna said. “Never readier,” the man replied, smiling. He patted the passenger seat. “You can pull into the alley over there.” Anna pointed. She started to open the door. “Sure, if you say so.” The man craned his neck to see the alley. “Is that where it’s at?” “Yes. That’s where it’s at. Where’s Dread?” Anna asked, looking around. The man made a face. “I’m past dread, baby, unless you’re with the cops. What do you charge? I’m just looking for some quick head. I can give you twenty bucks. We can do it in the back of my Suburban or right here on the front seat. Whatever works for you.” Anna recoiled from the man. “Oh God,” she said. She hopped out and retreated to the nearest doorway. The man watched her through the open window. “Hey, come on, baby,” he called. “We can do it quick. I promise. I’ll give you twenty-five bucks.” Finally, he slowly moved on when another vehicle pulled up behind him and flashed its lights. A pickup truck. Anna waited in the darkened doorway until the window of the pickup opened. It was Dread. “Hey, Anna, hon, we thought maybe you gave us the wrong info when we talked. We were here at ten of. This is the third time we’ve circled around the block.” Anna opened the door and got inside. Her hands were shaking. “Calm down, hon. We got this. You look sick. Here, this will help.” Dread handed her a brown paper bag. Anna wondered what variety of alcohol Dread had in the bag. She hoped it was vodka. “You want a cookie?” Dread asked. “They’re chocolate chip. I baked them myself.” “You bake cookies?” Anna broke into a smile. “You got a problem wit’ that? Camden County’s junior baking champ in twelfth grade. I’ve got the blue ribbon at home to prove it.” Anna finally laughed and opened the bag, releasing the smell of brown sugar, vanilla, and chocolate. The cookies were huge and smelled glorious. She took a piece of cookie from the bag. In fact, it was scrumptious. “Oh God Dread, these are yummy!” Dread smiled her smile and Anna directed her to the alley and told her to back in. Another pickup truck backed in behind them. “That’s Max,” Dread said, keeping her hands on the wheel and pointing with one finger. “One of my boys with the Devils. I borrowed this truck from another guy, and Max agreed to come down with me. We convoyed all the way here. Did I see you talking with someone in an SUV?” Anna nodded. “Yes. I thought it was one of your guys. It wasn’t. He thought I was a hooker.” Dread was twisted around her seat as she backed into the alley, and she put her foot on the brake and looked at Anna. “I can see that. A little skinny, maybe, to earn a good living. Not nearly enough meat up top. But most guys aren’t picky at 4 a.m. What did he offer you?” “Twenty bucks for a B.J.” “Twenty? At this time of night, poor horny dude was probably desperate. You should have held out for forty.” Dread cackled, a long drawn-out laugh. After a moment, Anna laughed too. They slowly backed into the alley, all the way to the dumpster. Anna hopped out first. As soon as her sneakers touched the ground, something didn’t seem right. She immediately went to the place where the documents had been hidden. They were gone. *** Excerpt from Temperature Rising by Joel Burcat. Copyright 2026 by Joel Burcat. Reproduced with permission from Joel Burcat. All rights reserved.

 

 

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About Author Joel Burcat:

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Joel Burcat

Joel Burcat is an award-winning novelist and retired environmental lawyer whose thrillers blend high-stakes suspense with real-world issues. He is the author of Drink to Every Beast, Amid Rage, Strange Fire, Reap the Wind, and Temperature Rising, as well as the historical novel Whiz Kid, co-written with his late father, David S. Burcat. His books have earned multiple honors, including Readers’ Favorite Gold and Silver Medals, a Kindle Book Reviews Semi-Finalist award, and recognition from PennWriters and the Next Generation Indie Book Awards (Finalist). Drawing on more than forty years of environmental law practice, Burcat now writes full-time from central Pennsylvania.

Catch Up With Joel Burcat:

JoelBurcat.com Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub – @JoelBurcat Instagram – @joelburcattheauthor Threads – @joelburcattheauthor X – @JoelBurcat Facebook – @JoelBurcatAuthor

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A Hot New Chance to Win!
This giveaway is hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Joel Burcat. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

, TEMPERATURE RISING by Joel Burcat | Gift Card Can’t see the giveaway? Click Here!

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AVALON MOON by Michael Amos Cody Banner

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AVALON MOON
by Michael Amos Cody
August 24 – September 18, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

In Avalon Moon, a local man has gone missing and then is soon found dead in a highland meadow, side-by-side with an unknown woman. When another man and woman go missing and a female deputy is found murdered, Gabriel Tanner, editor of Runion’s weekly newspaper, and Plumer Reeves, a reclusive local hawkshaw working for the niece of the first dead man, suspect a monster is hunting in their western North Carolina mountains. Two extraordinary young women, the Avalon community’s Ariel Anderson and Lonesome Mountain’s Livvy Goforth, join Tanner and Reeves to lead the attempt to discover and stop the killer.

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Praise for Avalon Moon:

“With wolves across the river and murder in the high meadow, Avalon Moon knows exactly how to raise the hair on your neck. Move it to the top of your book queue.” ~ BestThrillers.com

“A deliciously gothic tale stitched into a brutal murder mystery. As a serial killer stalks the mountains of North Carolina, Cody’s precise language shifts effortlessly like light through the trees – from lush gothic poetry to gritty Appalachian realism. Facing ancient gods and hungry beasts in the deep woods, the reader can’t help but dread a darker truth: evil is only ever a breath away.” ~ Andrew K. Clark, author of Where Dark Things Grow

“A crime novel featuring a new entry to the list of Most Bone-Chilling Fictional Serial Killers ever committed to paper. Or to e-book. Whatever. The influence of Poe and Hawthorne, at their bone-chilling creepiest, can be felt egging on the unfolding of the story, one eerie development after another. A taut, skillfully crafted thriller.” ~ Whiskey Leavins, author of Low Angle Shot

“Avalon Moon relies on vivid, inviting storytelling and precise language to lure you in, and once you’re caught in Cody’s prodigious literary talents, it’s hard to escape. . . . A book you’ll think about long after you’ve finished the story on the page.” ~ Bobby Mathews, author of Magic City Blues

“The Appalachian town of Runion is threatened by a serial killer, wolves, and ghosts—literal and figurative—in Michael Amos Cody’s propulsive new novel, Avalon Moon. The tension and constant sense of danger kept me turning the pages, but the heart of the book is the large cast of believable characters. All are rendered with insight, compassion, and humor, and they continued to linger in my thoughts long after the novel’s satisfying conclusion.” ~ Peter McDade, author of King Cal

Book Details:

Genre: Psychological Horror, Thriller

Published by: Madville Publishing Publication Date: May 19, 2026 Number of Pages: 340 ISBN: 9781963695670 (ISBN10: 1963695674)

Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Madville Publishing

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Enjoy this peek inside:

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Tuesday, March 4, 2014
One
Gabriel Tanner

“Editor of and chief contributor to a country weekly” never made my top ten list of things I wanted to be when I grew up. For the longest time, I had only one item on that list—Rock Star! I toyed with adding a second item, maybe being just a hit-making songwriter, but the songwriting I did throughout the 1980s was so closely bound up with the Rock Star! idea that I couldn’t pull the two apart. If I didn’t become the next Bruce Springsteen, which I didn’t, I was unlikely to become the next Bob McDill—ditto on the didn’t.

So, with the Rock Star! phase of my life gone grumbling into my dreams, I left Nashville in the hot gut of August 1990, retreated, tail between legs, to Runion, my hometown in the North Carolina mountains, and the following January entered Runion State University, where I double-majored in English and Journalism. I took a part-time job as student reporter and all-around grunt for Sheldon Dean’s Runion Recorder. A couple years after I graduated, Sheldon decided he was tired of writing and offered me a full-time position as editor, keeping only the title of “General Manager” for himself. I accepted. And so it came to pass that on a cold evening in early March, on the darker side of twilight, I drove toward the Lonesome Mountain end of Genesis Road, planning to swing around the back way into Runion. On regular mornings going to work, or any other time I was in a hurry, I drove down to the French Broad end of Genesis and took the river road up a short hill and onto Main Street, but I was dreading two hours minimum of sitting in a meeting at the Madison County Cooperative Extension Office complex, housed in the recently renovated Old Mill on Mill Street, and taking notes for a regular report to appear in next week’s paper. The room would be stuffy with heat and humanity, and to be honest, I was lollygagging. This year’s March was looking like a lion-lamb version—in like a lion, out like a lamb. We expected to wake up the next morning to some serious snow and ice courtesy of Winter Storm Ulysses. The fields on my left and the woods on my right seemed to hold their breath in anticipation. I rolled to a stop at the T-intersection where Genesis Road dead-ends at Jewel Hill Road, with Lonesome Mountain ahead and to my left, dark against the sky. My new Honda hybrid sat quietly, and still not used to its workings, I thought it might have died but relaxed when no warning lights appeared. Even though the temperature was in the upper thirties, I opened my windows and—with no other traveler sitting at my bumper and politely honking, as our mountain folk do—sat at the intersection with my eyes closed and my skin alive to the chilly air. I heard a few of last summer’s still-tethered leaves shivering in the boughs overhead and something scurrying through the underbrush in the woods off to my right. I think I could’ve engaged the emergency brake and gone to sleep, but I opened my eyes, suddenly uneasy and unsure why. The headlights shown across Jewel Hill Road and lit the lower part of a hillside pasture beyond. A few head of cattle midway up the slope stood at the edge of the light and grazed on pale grass. Not one to be unnerved by a bovine presence in the twilight, I strained my senses to catch and identify what raised hairs along my forearms and around the back of my neck. To my left, a field rolled away in successive swells toward a wooded ridge standing blackly against the sky. Runion lay on the other side of that ridge, but somewhere between the town and me, yips and cries rose from the gathering dark. These joined together into an eerie howl of various voices that twisted around one another, broke apart, and swelled together again. Coyotes. When I was growing up in these mountains, coyotes existed only in old TV westerns. But they were voice-over actors only, strictly behind-the-scenes. They were soundtrack features. Technicians of ambiance. Nothing said a cowboy was alone in the darkening wilderness like the distant howl of a coyote. The cowboy would raise his eyes from the campfire and sit still and listen for a moment, alert to the wild. But it was never the coyote itself that frightened him. Maybe the coyote’s cry was a reminder of his loneliness and vulnerability—that if such a critter could be out there in the dark, then anything could be out there. But in recent years, coyotes had loped out of the faded glory of Hollywood’s western and into our world, maybe crossing the Mississippi around Memphis and moving steadily east across Tennessee until they reached Appalachia and Runion. They were seen trotting along the edges of regional four-lanes or lying dead on twisting mountain highways. They stole cats and small dogs just beyond the lights of back porches. That evening at the stop sign, they yipped and yapped and cried somewhere out on the verge of a Runion farmer’s field. Still, I thought, at least they aren’t wolves. Wolves, of course, were a different story. Send up the howl of a wolf into the night, and the cowboy would become focused on the beast, not on loneliness or vulnerability. The wolf’s howl menaced, threatened. Eyes might shine at the edge of the campfire’s light, followed by snarling close-ups. Then enter the legend of the wolf mixed with a man, and the beast achieved cinematic glory, jumping genres from westerns to horror, something coyotes could never quite pull off. When I pressed the accelerator, the Honda whispered to life, and I turned left toward town. If I sat there much longer, I would be late for the extension meeting, during which one item on the agenda just happened to be related to the beasts of my T-intersection musing. . . . *** Excerpt from Avalon Moon by Michael Amos Cody. Copyright 2026 by Michael Amos Cody. Reproduced with permission from Michael Amos Cody. All rights reserved.

 

 

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About Author Michael Amos Cody:

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Michael Amos Cody

Michael Amos Cody is author of the 2017 novel GABRIEL’S SONGBOOK and the 2021 collection A TWILIGHT REEL, winner of the Short Story category in the Feathered Quill Book Awards 2022. His 2025 literary suspense novel STREETS OF NASHVILLE won the Thriller category in the 2026 Independent Press Awards. His new novel, released in May 2026, is the psychological thriller AVALON MOON. Cody lives with wife Leesa in Jonesborough, Tennessee, and teaches early American literature and creative writing in the Department of Literature and Language at East Tennessee State University.

Catch Up With Michael Amos Cody:

MichaelAmosCody.com Amazon Author Profile Goodreads Instagram – @michaelamoscody Threads – @michaelamoscody X – @DrMacOde Facebook – @MacOde77 Facebook – @michaelamoscody BlueSky – @michaelamoscody.bsky.social

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A Chilling Opportunity…
This giveaway is hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Michael Amos Cody. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

. AVALON MOON by Michael Amos Cody | Gift Cards Can’t see the giveaway? Click Here!

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

Worse Than Any Bullet

By Felicia Watson

 

(Fidelia Mysteries, #2)
Publication date: August 25th 2026
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Thriller

Everyone thinks their mother is murder but for mafia-family renegade Lucia Scafetti, that’s the literal truth.

When she laid her hitman father to rest, PI Lucia Scafetti thought she’d finally escaped her family’s criminal clutches. Ten years later, her estranged mom blows into Philly for a short visit and within days a friend’s dad is brutally murdered and Lucia is being menaced by her cousin and his fellow mafiosi. After her mother disappears, everyone: foes, friends, and free agents, descends upon Lucia in search of the thumb-drive her mom stole from a Caribbean drug lord. Lucia learns the hard way that the criminals besieging her will gladly kill to get their hands on that thumb-drive.
With the help of an intriguing ex-soldier, Lucia employs her skills, both detective and deadly, to solve the murder and unlock the secret of that enigmatic thumb-drive before it claims another life, be it her own – or that of her recently re-discovered son.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

“Someone’s in there.”

Lucia snapped into action, ordering Robbie to stay in the car with the dogs and retrieving her Glock from the secret compartment in the back seat of the Chevelle SS 454. She shook her head, indicating to Robbie he wasn’t getting an immediate explanation about the compartment and then stealthily approached the house.

Lucia decided to go around back and enter from the kitchen. The deadbolt had been defeated and there was no sound from the alarm system. This was no ordinary burglar.

Weapon ready, she crept into the living room where she could discern the muffled footsteps of someone descending the stairs. Lucia pointed her gun at the source of the noise and at the opportune moment, flipped on the lights. A hefty, masked and armed man froze on the fourth step as he realized he was facing a cocked gun.

Lucia warned, “If you’re thinking of trying anything, you better be a better shot than I am. Which is…unlikely.”

The man held his right hand out to his side, his gun loose. In a weirdly thick voice, he rumbled, “Hey, I’m not looking for trouble.”

“Breaking into my house armed with a military-grade semi is a really strange way to prove that.”

He chuckled and moved the gun slightly in a non-threatening manner. “Military grade? Nah, this is just a—”

“A Beretta Cx4 Storm. Which means you are definitely prepared for trouble.”

Rather than refuting her point, he urged, “I just want the thumb-drive, the real one. The one your mother stole from me.”

Not recognizing the term ‘thumb-drive’, Lucia silently contemplated whether this guy could possibly be looking for a body-part from someone her mother had killed. “You worked with my mom? Who are you?”

“I’m not wearing this mask ’cause I’m ugly. Who I am is none of your business. Just hand over the drive and no one gets hurt.”

“Seeing as I have the drop on you, that’s a toothless threat,” Lucia declared. “And I don’t know what it is you’re looking for, but you’re not gonna find it here.”

“For your sake, lady, I hope you’re lying.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m not the last person who’s gonna come looking for that thumb-drive. And I’m sure as hell not the most dangerous.”

Nodding at his gun, she countered, “Hard to believe. And I don’t even know what a thumb-drive is let alone—”

“It’s a computer thing,” Robbie announced from somewhere behind her back, his presence until that moment completely undetected. “You use it to—”

“Robbie?!” Her eyes remained trained on the masked man as Lucia barked, “What the hell! What are you doing here?”

“I was worried about you so I came to check. Don’t worry, I left the dogs in the car. You know, so they won’t get hurt.”

“But it’s okay if you get hurt?!”

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction this argument provided, the man on the stairs suddenly leapt over the banister and dashed towards the kitchen.

Lucia followed but he was too quick for her. Standing on the back deck, listening to his footsteps retreating into the darkness, Lucia briefly considered giving chase. She quickly discarded the idea. Not only was there Robbie to think of, but Lucia was loathe to incite a gunfight that might frighten Mrs. Schwartz, the elderly widow who occupied the twin house attached to her own.

When she got back in the house Robbie held up his backpack. “I got it.” He took a deep breath and then said, “Wow, that was….”

“Terrifyingly dangerous?” she offered, while surveying the wreckage around her. The intruder had obviously conducted a very thorough search.

“Nah, exciting! I knew it was safe when I heard you handling that guy like a pro. Otherwise, I would’ve stayed in the kitchen. I swear.”

Lucia sighed heavily and impulsively put her free arm around his shoulder. “Rule number one, Rob? When guns are drawn? The situation is never, ever, safe.” She pulled him to face her and stared intently into his eyes. “Capish?”

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About Author Felicia Watson:

Felicia Watson started writing stories as soon as they handed her a pencil in first grade. She’s especially drawn to character driven tales, where we see people we recognize, people who struggle with their mistakes and shortcomings, acknowledge them, and use that knowledge to grow into wiser human beings.

When not writing, Felicia spends her time chasing after her not-so-brilliant, but darling and beloved dogs, is chased by her truly brilliant, darling and beloved husband, is known to friends and family as an amateur pastry chef, and still finds time for swimming and her day job as a scientist.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

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GIVEAWAY

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Worse Than Any Bullet Blitz

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Some wounds don’t heal. They take over.

A Beverly Hills psychological thriller about grief, female
rage, fractured identity, and revenge.

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Dark Ugly Places

by Ashley Mansour

Genre: Psychological Thriller, Domestic Suspense

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Some wounds don’t
heal. They fester. They whisper. They take over.

In Dark Ugly Places, trauma isn’t something you
survive — it’s something that survives you.

Thirty-four-year-old Nicola Holiday loses everything in a
hit-and-run: her husband dead, her body broken, her fourteen-year-old daughter
Emmy forever changed. With no one held accountable, she spirals into grief,
panic attacks, and financial ruin — awakening a hereditary darkness she’s spent
her life trying to outrun.

That darkness has a voice now. Her name is Martha, and she
aches for revenge.

As Nicola’s grip on reality loosens, Martha slips into
another life — one of wealth, glamour, and moral rot. When she crosses paths
with the wife of a famous actor, Nicola’s suspicions ignite.

Pulled between vengeance and annihilation, Nicola and Martha
collide with a woman whose secrets may be the key to everything — or the thing
that destroys them both.

Dark, provocative, and deeply unsettling — a haunting
psychological portrait of female rage, obsession, and the terrifying lengths
the mind will go to survive unbearable pain.

Because sometimes the most dangerous place isn’t the past.
It’s inside your own head.

“A suspenseful and relentless tale of troubled
Californians.”

– Kirkus Reviews

 

“A tense, viciously readable psychological thriller about
the violence that lurks beneath polished surfaces.”

 – BookLife Reviews

 

“With fast-paced thrills and gripping psychological drama,
Ashley Mansour’s Dark Ugly Places serves up vengeance for morally complex
characters.” – Indiereader

**Releases September 15 – PreOrder Now!**

Amazon * Author’s Site * Apple
* B&N
* Google
* Kobo * Bookshop.org
* Bookbub
* Goodreads

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PROLOGUE

No one likes to be kept in the dark.

In the dark, everything is murky, even the Los Angeles sky.

But the day of Nicola’s accident, I had a pretty clear view of
things. It tends to be that way—clear—when Nicola isn’t.

Nicola, Ben, and their daughter, Emmy, were walking holding
hands, something the three of them hadn’t done since Emmy was a little kid. I
felt the itch in Nicola’s palm, like she didn’t want to hold hands. But Emmy
insisted. She was between them, arms outstretched, making that little humming
sound she sometimes made when she was nervous or lost in thought. Ben walked on
slightly ahead, his head down, eyes focused on the phone in his hand. I could
almost hear his teeth grinding.

Up ahead, the road was clear. The sun covered everything in
butter-yellow light. Crows perched in the bare-barked trees and made long,
scratchy cries like a group of smokers laughing. They rustled leaves and
crossed the pavement before them. But the trees were still, like the air had
been sucked out of the city. Up ahead, the road was clear.

The three of them approached the corner, Emmy and Nicola
chatting aimlessly. Ben narrowed his eyes and squinted at the screen as if the
sky was too bright. He stepped out into the road first. Emmy, next. She skipped
slightly—braids flying—and pulled her mom’s arm.

Nicola looked up and saw one of the crows overhead, its beak
open, making a dreadful sound. When she looked back at the road, her gut pinged
with a horrible dread she couldn’t place.

Then she—we—saw it.

From the middle distance, something large and hurtled into
view, its body glinting in the sun. Emmy screamed. Nicola tried to pull her
back, but one by one, her fingers slipped out of her grasp.

It was too late.

Nicola’s body collided with the big, thing, and in the
next moment, she was airborne, tumbling through the air as if she had been
taken by a tornado. Her thoughts spiraled with her, spinning out of control.

I’m going to die.

I’m going to live.

Don’t let me die.

I’m going to die.

She kept spiraling, around and around, until I stopped her with
a simple suggestion: Breathe, Nicola. Breathe. We have this power, those of us
who live in the darkness.

The asphalt grated her spine. It must have hurt, but Nicola did
not cry. Perhaps because the air was too full of Emmy’s screams.

She rolled to her left, her left arm pinned against her chest
like a piece of limp fabric. Her left leg lay stretched out before her
perfectly straight, but dead. Cold. Frozen in place. She rolled to her side and
saw Emmy, blood coating half of her face as though she were wearing a mask.
Five feet away, Ben lay in the road unmoving, his body contorted, his face
turned away.

Overhead, the stretch of blue sky angled down Beverly Boulevard
and went on forever. Cars passed, some honking, others slowing to stop and help
or to get a better look. Nicola grunted and heaved herself along the ground,
her jaw gritting with pain. She reached for Emmy, reached for Ben.

The body of the car stirred. A door opened. A black
polished shoe emerged onto the asphalt as the driver leaned out, then
disappeared again as the door shut. I heard the engine as the car started and
rolled backwards, slow at first, then picking up speed until it was gone.

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Ashley Mansour writes dark, cinematic psychological suspense
and domestic suspense about dangerous relationships, buried truths, and the
chaos waiting beneath the surface of ordinary lives.

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

 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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Enter the Dark Ugly Places Giveaway Here

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The Ties that Bind

By James Rosenberg

 

(The Legacy of Lies Legal Thriller, #1)
Publication date: July 27th 2026
Genres: Adult, Thriller

Some families build empires. Others bury secrets beneath them.

Bill Simon thought marrying Sharon Green meant entering a powerful legal dynasty and finally proving he belonged. Fresh from his honeymoon and eager to succeed at his new firm, Green & DeWitt, Bill is handed a complex real estate transaction tied to the influential Green family empire.

What begins as routine due diligence quickly spirals into something far more dangerous.

Hidden behind layers of shell companies, offshore accounts, and falsified property records, Bill uncovers connections to cartel money, political corruption, and a network of powerful men determined to keep their secrets buried. The deeper he digs, the more he realizes the conspiracy may reach directly into his father-in-law’s inner circle—and possibly into his own marriage.

As Bill digs deeper, Sharon Green fights to protect her family’s public image while uncovering other sinister connections between her family and the drug cartel. As others question the legitimacy of her father’s enterprises, she tries to find answers about the empire she was born into.

As they uncover disturbing connections between her father and the Mexican drug lord,Sharon and Bill are trapped between loyalty and truth, ambition and survival.

And in a world where power protects its own, exposing the truth could cost them everything.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The heat wafted above the scrubland. Three trucks waited in line, engines idling low in the darkness.

Each truck had a driver and one passenger, and together their primary responsibility was to get the trucks over the border less than thirty miles away.

Rafa Medina kicked at the dried ground as he waited for confirmation to move. They were still on schedule, but barely.

Luis Cortes sat in the passenger seat of the second truck, window cracked. A folded manifest lay on his lap. Medina tapped his window twice. Luis glanced over and gave a short nod.

The third truck’s driver shifted in his seat. Medina caught the movement and shook his head once. He could accept fear. Panic only caused mistakes.

Medina felt the vibration in his pocket. The signal, at last. He raised his hand.

As the trucks shifted into gear, the whine of their engines intensified. The first truck rolled forward, followed by the second, and then the third. They stayed in tight formation as they turned onto the paved road heading north.

Medina jogged to his Jeep, climbed in, and maneuvered his vehicle in behind them.

He considered moving to the front of the line to take control, but before he could decide, gunfire echoed from the brush to his right. The lead truck swerved, glass spraying off to its side.

The truck regained its footing, tires screaming, as it came out of its fishtail.

The second shot came from the opposite side of the road, from cover behind a grouping of bushes.

The muzzle flashes were sequenced and controlled. Now was not the time for panic. He knew immediately it was a rival crew, one that had studied the route and wanted it.

The first truck accelerated, pushing past the shots.

When a new round of shots burst from the right, the second truck was directly in front of it and caught a barrage of automatic fire in the passenger side door.

As the bullets tore through the truck, Luis jerked sideways, his body snapping against the window as glass exploded outward. The driver screamed and hit the gas. The truck lurched forward, out of the danger zone.

As the trucks moved ahead, Medina pulled out his Glock and aimed toward the brush where he had spotted the muzzle flashes. From his slightly elevated position, he fired twice, forcing the shooters back. They withdrew, retreating into the darkness.

Their message had been delivered.

Medina didn’t chase. The trucks came first.

He ran to the second truck. Blood was everywhere.

The driver was shaking, hands locked on the wheel, eyes wide. Medina yanked the door open and pulled him out.

“We have ten minutes. Your truck won’t make it to the border. Transfer the cargo. I’ll take care of Luis.”

The driver nodded.

Medina climbed into the cab. Luis’s eyes were open, unfocused. He checked for a pulse. There was none. This simplified matters.

Medina scampered to the other side of the truck and grabbed Luis under the arms, dragging him from the cab.

Ten minutes. That was all they had.

He pulled the body into the brush. He worked with his hands and a tire iron he grabbed from the back of the truck, digging quickly, ignoring the ache in his shoulders.

Medina lowered the body into the ground, then shoveled dirt to cover it. The land closed over the shape easily, swallowing it. He didn’t mark the grave and offered no words.

He crossed himself and then wiped his hands on his pants.

The damaged truck was next. Medina drove it behind a clump of bushes. No one would notice it for months. No one would care.

This was no man’s land.

The other trucks waited.

Medina jogged back to the road and waved the trucks forward. They didn’t hesitate. The second truck’s payload had already been transferred.

Medina climbed back into his vehicle and pulled in behind them.

The convoy moved north, engines steady.

Dust flew from their tires and then settled behind them.

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About Author James Rosenberg:

James Rosenberg is a 3rd generation trial attorney with plenty of stories to tell.

Inspired not only by the courtroom stories his father and grandfather used to tell

him when he was a child, but also by the wild adventures he’s encountered through

his own experience as a lawyer. James is fascinated by the intricate, interpersonal

dynamics of every trial he’s endured. Whether it’s the raw emotion on display in

court, the tension in the air that builds until someone wins, or the impact that a

case’s decision has on the parties involved, James is always paying attention and

keeping tabs on what’s happening.

In his debut novel, “Legal Reserves”, James flexes his creative muscle outside of the

courtroom to share his stories, with a fictional twist, through the eyes of archetypes

he knows well.

A native of Pittsburgh and a graduate of Taylor Allderdice High School and the

University of Pittsburgh School of Law, James has been a trial attorney in Pittsburgh

for almost 30 years. He started writing legal thrillers as a stress reducer and finds

this creative outlet to be a fun and meaningful diversion from his day job.

When he’s not trying cases, he’s either dreaming up his next book idea, spending

time with his wife and three kids, or both.

To contact James email Rosenberg@marcus-shapira.com or follow him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/RosenbergWrites/

Check out his website: www.JamesRosenbergAuthor.com

Please become part of my email list and get updates about my latest launches. https://subscribepage.io/fcVT4h

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GIVEAWAY

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The Ties that Bind Blitz

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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The Tell-Tale Art (Tri-Star Investigations)
by Lawrence E. Rothstein


The Tell-Tale Art (Tri-Star Investigations)
Mystery – Thriller
3rd in Series
Setting – Chicago, Provence
Publisher ‏ : ‎ Wild Rose Press
Publication date ‏ : ‎ April 13, 2026
Print length ‏ : ‎ 304 pages
Paperback
ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1509264876
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1509264872
Digital
ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1509264889
ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0GHZNJ17T

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After a Chicago gallery owner’s apparent suicide is unmasked as murder, brilliant Marko Korb, intrepid Kelan Su, and dauntless Desmond St. Clair of Tri-Star Investigations hunt a killer. A tense stakeout, twin break-ins, and two brutal murders propel them into deciphering an artistic code, battling an international gang, rescuing a kidnapped colleague, and uncovering a cache of Nazi-looted art. With help from an old ally of Korb, the chase hurtles from Chicago’s mean streets through the countryside, culture, and cuisine of Provence—and back again. Every clue is a brushstroke; every step could be their last.

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About Author Lawrence E. Rothstein

Writing mysteries is my third career. In all of my careers as a lawyer, a university professor, and now as an author of novels, finding the right words to present an idea was always important and enjoyable. As an academic, I wrote many published scholarly pieces, including a book and book chapters. I started writing mystery/legal scenarios as hypothetical cases for law courses I taught. I get my ideas from the news, particularly legal news, my previous legal work, areas of academic research, and other detective stories. With regard to The Tell-Tale Art, I used my experiences living and working in Aix-en-Provence. My detectives are based in Chicago, where I was born and raised.

Website / Facebook / Instagram / Instagram / BlueSky 

Purchase Links: Amazon   Barnes & Noble 

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GIVEAWAY

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TOUR PARTICIPANTS

July 29 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT  

July 29 – Jody’s Bookish Haven – SPOTLIGHT

July 30 – Christy’s Cozy Corners – AUTHOR GUEST POST

July 31 – Boys’ Mom Reads! – SPOTLIGHT

July 31 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT

August 1 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – SPOTLIGHT

August 2 – Books1987 – SPOTLIGHT

August 3 – Sarandipity’s – CHARACTER GUEST POST

August 3 – Book Hookup – REVIEW

August 4 – Ascroft, eh? – CHARACTER INTERVIEW

August 4 – Sapphyria’s Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT

August 5 – deal sharing aunt – AUTHOR INTERVIEW

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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One Leg on Earth

By ‘Pemi Aguda

 

Publication date: May 5th 2026
Genres: Adult, Horror, Occult Fiction, Thriller

From the author of the National Book Award finalist Ghostroots, a debut novel that thrills with its eerie mix of folklore and history.

Something is haunting the pregnant women of Lagos. Across the city, they are walking into water . . . and drowning.

Twenty-three-year-old Yosoye arrives in Lagos ready to start her life. Working for a slick architectural firm, she finds a city of adventure and opportunity. Her new world is one of fancy gallery openings, glamorous friends, and all the shiny potential of the future, encapsulated in projects like Omi City, the ultra-luxury development her company is building, a symbol of the dawn of a brighter Lagos.

But Yosoye’s idyllic vision of Lagos soon begins to seem naive, and its darker, stranger layers trouble her. Something is not right about Omi City, and as construction speeds ahead, stories of strange deaths in the city’s open waters reach a fever pitch. And then, after a chance encounter, Yosoye discovers she is pregnant . . . a revelation which puts her on a collision course with an inexplicable force that is as seductive as it is deadly. A masterwork by a writer hailed as “an astonishing talent” (Lauren Groff), One Leg on Earth is an ambitious novel like no other: a coming-of-age story, an uncanny exploration of motherhood, and a chilling vision of the dark side of progress.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

MIRIAM AIKI PRAYED FOR THE FRUIT OF THE WOMB for thirteen years. Thirteen years of chafed knees: blood and shredded skin staining church altars, shrine altars, her bedside rug, her mother-in-law’s living room tiles. Thirteen years begging for a miracle, for strength, for patience. Her cries were answered. At thirty-eight, her womb was unfurling its first bloody fruit.

Now, in the passenger seat of her husband’s car, she smiled at her taut six-month belly. An ugly joy stirred within her. Ugly because it sat heavy on top of her growing baby, nausea amassing saliva in her mouth. But mothers who’d hunted long for that title knew that this unpleasantness was welcome, embraced.

Miriam smoothed a hand over her lace buba. She smiled at her husband, Victor, who frowned at the standstill traffic. They were running late for his cousin’s wedding and hadn’t moved in twenty minutes. His knuckles tapped an agitated beat on the steering wheel along to soft jazz playing on the radio. Past her husband’s head, the blue BRT bus keeping them in merciful shadow advertised a “We Are Lagos” music concert. Celebrating our oneness together! Miriam turned her beaming face to her window, gap-tooth a narrow darkness in an otherwise white smile.

These shining eyes, these stretched lips, these deep dimples. The people of Third Mainland Bridge stuck in traffic with Miriam would always remember the fizzy happiness in these details.

Miriam’s bliss bubbled up, feathering her insides, shimmering around her baby, erupting from her throat in a giggle—a curious misplaced sound in that car.

Victor turned to her, startled. His hand brushed her thigh, her rounded belly.

“Are you okay?”

Miriam giggled again. Her head slid down the leather headrest, neck tilting backward for more happiness to escape, clavicle bared to her husband’s confused gaze. This frothing joy within Miriam, she wanted to warble it out, to dance through it, until she and her baby were heady with the fervor of it.

She pushed the passenger door open. Stepped out. Victor sat there, blinking in shock for what would later seem like two lifetimes. The humid air crowded in to displace cool air-conditioning. He clicked the radio off, leaned toward the open mouth of the door.

“Miriam? What are you doing?”

Miriam kicked her sandals off, flung the fuchsia-pink slingbacks behind her. One heel struck the car’s bonnet, leaving a silver chink. She wound between the bridge’s stalled vehicles: engines turned off; gears stuck in neutral. She skipped and spun and squealed. Even in the midst of that sweltering Lagos day of thumping car music and raucous engines and the truck that honked at her for dancing too close, Miriam’s squeal stood out, a siren.

Passengers lowered their half-eaten Pure Bliss wafers and leaned out of windows to watch this odd but entertaining episode. Drivers, stretching their legs in small huddles, paused their whining—about traffic and heat and wives and money and that new backache that made their worlds flush dark when they bent at the wrong angle. All necks craned toward Miriam. Hawkers hitched boxes higher and nudged each other to behold the spirited pregnant woman.

Miriam swayed, shoulders shaking with laughter at a joke nobody else could hear. Her legs kicked. Hands stretched, twirling as if being spun about. What joy! What joy!

Victor leaned on the horn. His feet hit tar, finally going after her. Had she gone mad? He yelled her name, using the tone his father wielded on his mother, demanding Miriam return to the car immediately.

But Miriam didn’t want to get back in the car. She wanted to dance, to be free, to glide forward with the happiness surging from her womb, her baby. Her husband navigated between fascinated watchers. He shouted, “Miriam! Miriam! Miriam!” But by the time he got to the railings, she had launched herself off Third Mainland Bridge, laughing and screeching into the lagoon below, belly-first, like a child jumping into the arms of a beloved parent.

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About Author Pemi Aguda:

Pemi Aguda is a Nigerian writer known for her short stories and debut collection Ghostroots (2024). Her work often explores complex themes surrounding motherhood, identity, and the supernatural. Ghostroots, which includes previously published stories such as “Breastmilk” and “The Hollow”, was a finalist for the 2024 National Book Award for Fiction and received critical acclaim for its unifying themes and narrative cohesion.

Aguda’s stories have been widely recognized, earning multiple accolades, including an O’Henry Award in 2022 for “Breastmilk” and again in 2023 for “The Hollow”. Additionally, “Breastmilk” was shortlisted for the 2024 Caine Prize for African Writing. Her forthcoming novel, The Suicide Mothers, which won the 2020 Deborah Rogers Foundation Award, is slated for release in 2025.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram

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One Leg on Earth Blitz

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

 

Have You Seen Him by Kimberly Lee Banner

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HAVE YOU SEEN HIM
by Kimberly Lee
July 6 – 31, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
What if everything you believed about yourself was totally wrong?

For David Byrdsong, life is a series of daily obligations. An attorney, he lacks both ambition and the ability to commit to a long-term relationship with his girlfriend, Gayle. Abandoned by his family at an airport when he was eleven, he learned to blunt his feelings, despite his subsequent adoption by a loving couple. Until one day, when David discovers his own face in a missing child ad. Suddenly driven to uncover the truth about his past, he is forced to tap into his inner strength as he encounters corporate conspiracies, murdered bystanders, and distressing suspicions about the only family he’s ever really trusted. David enlists Gayle’s help—and the help of an unlikely stranger with secrets of his own—as he attempts to find his true family, whoever they are.

Have You Seen Him is a story of lost identity, dangerous secrets, and a deeply personal pursuit of the truth.

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Praise for Have You Seen Him:

Next Gen Indie Gold Award winner and IBPA Silver Award winner, Have You Seen Him has earned praise from readers and reviewers alike. “Lee debuts with a dazzling maze of courtrooms, kidnappers, and unsolved mysteries in this substantive thriller, boasting a rich ensemble cast.…Have You Seen Him is consistently sincere, never losing sight of its spirit, and always ensuring readers are both challenged and charmed right up to the final page.” ~ BookLife “…a slow-burning, emotional thriller that explores identity, trust, and the ripple effects of secrets long buried….This is a debut worth reading!” ~ Natasha Reed “I loved the numerous reveals, and some made me gasp out loud! I won’t give any spoilers, so I won’t ruin it for you. If you love to be kept guessing until the end…give this book a try.” ~ Julie Kodama “…delivers enough action to trigger a fight-or-flight response. The sparse touch heightens suspicion, palpable dread, and tension, fueling the overall pace….[E]veryone will stay engaged.” ~ C. Elyse, A Sip, A Shout Out, and a Sentence “Cleverly written and thoughtfully crafted, Lee’s debut is action-packed and entertaining with enough emotion and depth to hook you. Gayle was my favorite character—she kicks ass.” ~ Mystery Manon, The Cluesletter “…an impressively engaging, cleverly scripted, and simply riveting read from start to finish. Especially recommended for fans of unique suspense thrillers….” ~ Midwest Review “The plot contains action, mystery, murder, secrets, and lies. There’s potential here for a sequel, and I’ll be one of the first in line to read it.” ~ Stephen Christopher, Readers’ Favorite “The action and the mystery kept me reading. I had to know why he was missing.” ~ Briana Fitzpatrick “This book was one that definitely pulled me in as twists and turns unravelled. Overall it was a twisty search for truth, tangled in corporate secrets, buried trauma, and family drama.” ~ A.D. “I really enjoyed the author’s style of writing, the chapters were short and to the point and even though the storyline was intricate and multi-dimensional, it all came together.” ~ Jameelah Deleon​​​​​​​ ​

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HAVE YOU SEEN HIM Trailer:

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Book Details:

Genre: Thriller, Suspense, Mystery

Published by: Butterfly Effect Press Publication Date: July 1, 2025 Number of Pages: 270 ISBN: 9798991867214

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

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Enjoy this peek inside HAVE YOU SEEN HIM:

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About Author Kimberly Lee:

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Kimberly Lee

Kimberly Lee, JD, is a versatile writer, workshop facilitator, and editor with a passion for nurturing the imaginative spirit and helping others reveal their creative gifts. Kimberly holds degrees from Stanford University and UC Davis School of Law, along with certifications from Amherst Writers & Artists, SoulCollage®, Guided Autobiography, and the Center for Journal Therapy. Recent collaborations include Esalen Institute, Omega Institute, Hollyhock Retreat Center, and The Huntington. Kimberly’s stories and essays have appeared in numerous publications and anthologies, and she has served on the staffs of Literary Mama, F(r)iction, and Carve magazines. She lives in Southern California with her husband and three children.

Catch Up Kimberly Lee:

KimberlyLee.me Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub – @kimberlyylee Instagram – @klcreatrix

 

Tour Participants:

Click through the other tour stops for can’t-miss reviews, insider interviews, exclusive guest posts, and more chances to win! Click here to view the Tour Schedule  

 

Have You Seen Him… And This Giveaway?
This giveaway is hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Kimberly Lee. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

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HAVE YOU SEEN HIM by Kimberly Lee | Gift Cards Can’t see the giveaway? Click Here!

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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The Vanishers by R. G. Belsky Banner

THE VANISHERS
by R. G. Belsky
June 15 – July 10, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:
Megan Foley knows she saw the little boy. So why does everyone at the perfect seaside house insist he never existed? The house was perfect. That was its first lie.

When Megan and her husband Patrick accept an invitation to spend the summer at a luxurious house share in Stone Beach, Connecticut, everything seems too good to be true. The rent is absurdly low. The host, Mrs. Monahan, is attentive to the point of unease. The other guests are pleasant — until they aren’t. One day, Megan sees a boy, Tommy, playing… and the next, Tommy is simply gone. Not moved. Not spoken of. Erased, as though he never existed. All the other guests at the house look at Megan blankly when she asks. One by one, the guests succumb to long hours in front of the television in a glassy trance. Patrick grows cold and distant. Something stirs in the attic. Megan alone seems immune — but for how long? As she begins to doubt herself and the house tightens its hold, she must confront the terrifying truth about Mrs. Monahan, the attic room, and the price of a perfect summer. A chilling gothic thriller for fans of atmospheric domestic horror — available in Kindle Unlimited.

 

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MY REVIEW

A vacation at a beautiful seaside house. Sounds like a dream. But….. it could also be too good to be true, as Meagan is soon to discover. People start behaving strangely, including her husband. Then, people start disappearing and no one even remembers they existed at all. Why is Meagan the only one who sees that something is wrong? What is going on? And can she and her husband even leave?

I watch a lot of horror movies, gothic ones included. The synopsis grabbed me right away. I wondered whether the plot was going to be predictable. It wasn’t. I was kept on my toes, ever curious to what was behind the eerie occurrences. About halfway through I was pretty sure I had things figured out. But, I didn’t. Not really. There was a thing or two that I felt could have been left out. They didn’t work for me. That said, I still enjoyed this book and would definitely recommend it.

4 STARS

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Book Details:

Genre: Paranormal Gothic Thriller

Published by: dp DIGITAL PUBLISHERS Publication Date: May 7, 2026 Number of Pages: 298 ISBN: 978-1918343335

Book Links: Amazon | KindleUnlimited | Goodreads | dp DIGITAL PUBLISHERS

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Enjoy this peek inside The Vanishers:

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PROLOGUE
Hudson Lake, Michigan
I know everyone in this diner is looking at me like I’m strange. Well, I’m sure used to that by now. It wasn’t always that way, of course. I mean I’m blonde-haired, just turned 30 and once – a million years or so ago before the terrible times happened – people said I was pretty. But now I realize that I look old beyond my years. I’ve lost a lot of weight, my face is pale and gaunt and I’m trembling noticeably right now even though it is the first real warm day of spring. I make my way unsteadily over to a stool at the diner’s counter and sit there quietly, without talking, even when a guy comes over and asks for my order. “What’ll it be, ma’am?” he smiles. I stare at him with a confused look on my face. Nothing people say these days – even simple questions like that – seem to make sense to me anymore. “Ma’am,” he repeats. “Pardon?” “My name is Danny. Danny Heller. I own this place. What do you want?” I think about if for a second, then say: “Do you think I could have some tea?” “Tea, sure.” He walks over to the kitchen area, pours a cup and brings it back to me. “How about something to eat?” he asks. “A sandwich. Some soup. Maybe a nice piece of pie. We got some nice pies today. Apple. Cherry. Lemon meringue.” “Lemon meringue?” “Sure. Want a piece?” I nod. “Yes, that would be nice.” Danny Heller cuts an extra large slice of the pie, places it onto a plate and carries it back to where I am sitting. I begin eating. Silently and without any emotion. Just like I do everything else now. “Are you from around here?” he asks. “No, not from around here.” What’s your name? “Uh, I’m Megan… “Well, I’m glad to meet you, Megan. Are you just visiting around these parts?” “I’m…,” I hesitate, because it’s painful to say the words., “I’m…looking for a vacation house.” “Hey we’ve got some good ones. The lake this time of year is one of the prettiest spots in all of Michigan. Or anywhere else, for that matter. Have you looked at many houses?” “Not here. Other places.” “You’ve been traveling then?” “Yes, I’ve been traveling quite a bit.” The truth is I have been traveling for nearly a year. I started back east, moving from resort town to resort town along the New England coast. When fall came, I started moving down along the coast toward the winter resorts. Miami Beach. The Gold Coast. The Gulf Shore. Then, with the advent of spring, I had come north and inland to look at lake areas. Ohio. Minnesota. And now Michigan. In all the places, I’ve done the same thing. Gone through ads for house rentals. Checked with real estate brokers. Driven aimlessly around shore areas looking. Always looking. Looking for the house. The house I can never forget. The house of my nightmares. “We have some local house listings on that bulletin board over there,” Danny Heller says, pointing to a wall at the end of the counter. “People with a place to rent put stuff up there. Maybe you’ll find something you want.” I get up from my stool and walk over to the bulletin board. Looking through the ads posted on the bulletin board without really expecting to find anything. But then I see it. And I scream! I scream so loudly that everyone in the diner stops eating and looks at me. It’s a scream that keeps gathering momentum as it goes on like a runaway train, terrifying everyone there. “What’s wrong?” Danny says, rushing over to where I’m standing by the bulletin board. I point to a picture of a house in one of the ads. “It’s here,” I whisper. “What?” “The house.” And it is. The house I’ve been looking for. The house from Pleasant Street. “I don’t understand,” Danny is saying. “It’s the house,” I sob. “Oh, my God, it really is the same house…” *** Excerpt from The Vanishers by R. G. Belsky. Copyright 2026 by R. G. Belsky. Reproduced with permission from R. G. Belsky. All rights reserved.

 

 

 

About Author R.G. Belsky:

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R. G. Belsky

R.G. Belsky is an award-winning author of crime fiction and a journalist in New York City. His newest mystery, THE VANISHERS, was published by dp DIGITAL PUBLISHERS. Belsky has published 26 novels. He also writes thrillers under the name Dana Perry. And he is a contributing writer for The Big Thrill magazine and BookTrib.

Catch Up With R. G. Belsky:

www.RGBelsky.com Amazon Author Profile Goodreads BookBub – @dickb79983 Instagram – @dickbelsky Threads – @dickbelsky X – @DickBel Facebook – @RGBelsky

 

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