Posted in Book Release, excerpt, mystery, Novella, Spotlight, suspense on April 27, 2024

 

 

Synopsis

 

“Chase”, the famous detective agency in Hamburg, is faced with three extremely tricky cases. Solving the intricate mysteries is one thing, the dangers involved are another. Chief investigator Rique Allmers and his team are always up against powerful and unscrupulous opponents.

In “The Hunt for the Mute Poetess”, they set out to uncover the family secret of a deaf-mute author, which is closely guarded by the Hamburg mafia.

In “The Hunt for a King”, the two Chase agents Jérome and Chen Lu travel to Scotland to solve the murder of a history professor. Without knowing it, they fight to preserve one of the greatest legends of mankind.

In “The Hunt for the Tsar’s Treasure”, Andree, Chase’s IT specialist, after his girlfriend is kidnapped, suddenly finds himself in a race to find what is probably the most valuable lost treasure in the world.

 

 

 

Amazon

 

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Excerpt

 

Dumbarton

 

The Campbell house was in a quiet residential street on the western outskirts of Dumbarton, an affluent neighborhood. They parked the battered Focus in the driveway, and James opened the front door with his key.

“Peter?”

No answer.

While Jérome and Chen Lu looked around, James went through every room and called his younger brother’s name repeatedly, but without success. He left the house and called his name again. Ben Sillings, a neighbor, came out of his house on the other side of the street and greeted him.

“If you’re looking for Peter, the police picked him up and took him with them about two hours ago. Has he done something?”

James went pale. He left Sillings standing there and returned to his friends and told them what he had just learned. He dialed his brother’s cellphone number. They heard it ringing in Peter’s room. From the house phone, he called the police station in Dumbarton, but they knew nothing. He hung up with a sigh of resignation.

“James?” Chen Lu pointed to a box of extralong matches that lay in the hallway next to a low shoe-shelf. “Is this normal?”

James stooped, picked them up and answered thoughtfully: “No, it’s not.” He squinted, thinking. Then he quickly took the box into the living room and went over to the chimney.

“I should have thought of this earlier. I’ve just been away for too long,” he said to the others, who followed him.

“What?” asked Jérome.

“A secret compartment of my father’s. He showed it to me once – and apparently to my brother as well. I assume that Peter found something in it.”

James pressed on a particular spot among the wooden carvings that decorated the ledge of the fireplace. A narrow drawer, which was all but invisible, popped right out from the carving. Inside lay a sealed envelope with a wax seal. They looked at each other. James was about to open the envelope, but Jérome held him back.

“Wait!”

He examined the seal closely. It was a warhammer, framed by the letters H and M. Jérome asked his friend if the seal meant anything to him.

“I think my father wore a ring with this emblem, but what it means, I don’t know.”

Jérome photographed the seal with his cellphone and sent the picture to Andree at CHASE headquarters in Hamburg. Below the image, he wrote:

Urgent!! Find out what this means.

Then James broke the seal and fished a piece of paper out of the envelope, on which four words, followed by a six-digit number in his father’s handwriting, were written.

Sliochd Athair
Treun Cridhe
475542

“What’s that?” Jérome and Chen Lu asked in unison.

“It’s Gaelic,” James murmured thoughtfully.

James took the note, sat down and scrutinized it.

“Can you translate it?” said Chen Lu.

“Of course,” came the reply. “Sliochd means son, but more in the sense of a descendant or heir. Athair means father. Treun is brave and cridhe is heart. I’d interpret this as something like Heir of the father, you brave heart.”

“Have you got any idea what your father meant by that?” Jérome put his hand on his friend’s shoulder from behind.

“Wait!” he said, suddenly excited, “brave heart, of course, that’s it! Braveheart!”

“Braveheart?”

“My father wrote a book about William Wallace, the Scottish freedom fighter. Braveheart! It must be here!”

He jumped up and went to the big book shelf on the wall. He scanned the row of books until he found his father’s work. He pulled it out, turned it upside down and leafed through the pages in the hope that a concealed note would fall out. But there was no note in the book. He turned it over again and flipped hurriedly through the pages in search of a message. “I can’t find anything,” he said, disappointed.

“Maybe you’ll find something here,” said Chen Lu, who had approached the shelf and looked into the gap where Ronald Campbell’s book had been.

There, embedded in the rear wall, was a panel with ten numeric keys. She looked back at the handwritten note, and punched in the number 475542. Immediately, the central part of the shelf moved forward a bit, making it easy to open up the entire bookcase. Behind it, a staircase led down into the darkness. The three looked at each other in amazement, when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Chen Lu rushed to the window and peered discreetly through a gap of the curtains. “Police,” she reported, “two in uniform and one in civilian clothes.”

“I don’t think we can trust them. Come on!” Jérome called to them. Together they went down the secret staircase and closed the shelf-wall behind them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Thomas Dellenbusch was born in Düsseldorf, Germany, in 1964 and still lives there. The former police detective and advertising copywriter has been actively writing for more than twenty years on a wide variety of topics. Although the lion’s share of his assignments originates from the advertising industry, he has also put his talents to use, producing speeches for government officials, poetry for individuals, screenplays, rulebooks, newspaper articles, sketches, and much more. In short, any subject that can be communicated in a stimulating manner.

Since 2013, he has specialized in the production of movie-length-stories — written both by himself and seven other authors via the publishing company he founded expressly for that purpose.

 

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Posted in Book Release, excerpt, Fantasy on April 27, 2024

 

 

Synopsis

 

A Portalis, their saviour or doom?

Thrust into a world beyond her wildest imagination, Aria Torvel’s simple life abruptly shatters after learning she is a Portalis. The only one of her kind and gifted with an ancient portal magic, she has become the unwitting bridge between the Three Realms.

But now the doorways are open and, more importantly, exposed. Mages, elves, and prowling demons have become part of her new reality, and Aria has little choice but to traverse lands both beautiful and sinister in order to survive.

Accompanied by a plucky mage, a stuffy elven General, and her harried grandfather in tow, Aria’s task is to seal these magical doorways before the infamous Lord of Shadows can hunt her down.

Friends will reveal their true forms, enemies will seek to break her, and witches will emerge whose appetite for human flesh is a haunting reminder of the wrongs of the mortal world. With an impending war looming on the horizon, Aria must embrace her newfound power and unravel its obscure secrets or risk the encroaching darkness destroying all that she holds dear.

An enemies-to-lovers tale, this is the first installment from the exciting Portalis Runes fantasy trilogy brought to you by A.G. Brogan.

 

 

 

Amazon

 

 

Excerpt

 

“Aria, to me!” he boomed and I recognised his alarm, moments before the tread of thundering feet reached my ears.

Fellious was still giving chase. I sprinted as fast as my legs would carry me towards Eron, his blade now protruding through the back of the beast, before he withdrew it in a spray of black blood and charged towards me, arm outstretched, while mine remained bound behind my back. I barrelled into him and was immediately thrust out of the way as Eron brought his blade up to collide with Fellious and his war hammer. The strain of the blow was severe, the rock beneath our feet trembling in answer and brought Eron to his knees, where he now grappled to keep the heavy weapon from meeting his skull. Through his gritted teeth Eron barked an order.

“Rendon! Get Aria to safety now! Warriors, defensive positions!”

The elf I assumed was Rendon ran from the line, while I shuffled uncertainly away from Eron and Fellious. The warrior’s golden braid whipped in his wake as he ran to us at immortal speeds. Carefully he lifted me into his arms and offered an encouraging smile before we dashed through the bloodshed and towards the portal. Elves quickly rallied around us and formed an arrowhead blockade while I looked to my new ally, incredulous when I saw Eron and Fellious fade into the background.

My concern for my friend rising, I argued, “We cannot leave Eron to face that monster?!”

But Rendon merely smirked, “He is the First General of Elavon, it is the monster that should be frightened.” 

 

 

About the Author

 

A.G. Brogan lives in the South of England with her husband, two children, and cocker spaniel. When she’s not planning a walking holiday, the author is busy writing with a coffee in hand.

Author’s Note: This story began as a creative way to channel my anxiety. The more I wrote, the more it began to drift away, replaced by the thoughts and feelings of the characters on the page. I hope this book provides a temporary escape, even if it’s just to one reader, and inspires people to pursue what they love.

 

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Posted in excerpt, fiction, women on April 26, 2024

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

Once a best-selling romance novelist, 55-year-old Fran Carter is now dealing with a slow but steady drop in book sales and a major case of writer’s block, complicated by the knowledge that her lover, a professional photographer, has been on the wrong side of the camera (so to speak) with his models. (So much for her author brand, built on the premise that women in their fifties and beyond can still find love and happiness.) Her solution is to spend a week in isolation at a northern California bed-and-breakfast. There she hopes to resolve her professional and personal conflicts, and ultimately create a new and better future for herself by writing a new “story” for the Fran she wants to be!

 

 

 

 

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Excerpt

 

“Ms. Carter, I started reading romance novels when I was in my teens,” the woman began. “I bought into the whole ‘a white knight will come and sweep you off your feet’ myth. That’s what I was waiting for, and that’s what I thought I married. And I kept reading the books and doing everything they said to keep the romance alive. I served romantic dinners by candlelight—after feeding the kids, of course. I made sure my hair was done and my makeup was perfect, even after spending the whole day cleaning the house or running to pediatrician appointments or school meetings. And I never, not once,” she emphasized, “said ‘no’ regardless of how I felt physically or emotionally. Nope, I was the perfect little wife that romance books said I had to be. I did it all, but it didn’t make a bit of difference. The kids grew up and left home, and pretty soon, he left, too.”

She raised her hand to forestall any sympathetic outpouring. “Hey, don’t feel sorry for me! That was the best thing that could have happened. I don’t regret having my children, but looking back, I realize our marriage never gave me what I wanted. I’d been so caught up in the fantasy that books like yours create that I never asked myself what kind of life I really wanted. So, I hung on a lot longer than I should have. My whole life was focused first on finding a man and then on keeping him. These days I’m concentrating on me—and I’m a damned sight happier than I’ve ever been! There are no ‘white knights,’ Ms. Carter. So why do you keep writing about them? Why don’t you write about real life?”

I started to take another sip of water but saw the glass was empty. Unfortunately, so was my brain. I didn’t know how to answer or what to say. I was publicly forced to justify my books’ existence—my existence—at a time when I was wrestling with the very questions she had raised.

Surprisingly, another audience member came to my rescue. “Now, don’t be too hard on her,” she said. “I’m sure Ms. Carter knows that reading her books is our way of taking a break from our real lives, right?” looking up at me.

“Yes, of course,” I said, so grateful to have someone on my side that I didn’t stop to analyze my words. “I mean, these books,” waving at the shelves behind me stocked with novels featuring women with heaving bosoms and half-dressed muscular men on their covers, “they are fiction after all! No one really believes life is like that. It’s like in the movies when the lovers wake up in the morning and start kissing each other. Did the directors never hear of morning breath? It’s all make-believe, all of it! A fantasy! Escapist literature! And if you try to turn your life into a romance novel, you are bound to be disappointed.”

My words echoed in the sudden silence, and I realized too late what I had said. I had trashed not only my own books, but the entire genre. Worse, in so many words, I had told them that if they were looking for information on how to rejuvenate their lives, they were wasting their money buying my novels.

What had Vanessa said to me—that my readers wanted to believe that life and love hadn’t passed them by? And now I had told them that it was all a load of crap.

 

Reprinted with permission from Chapter 3 of Finding Fran

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Nancy Christie is the award-winning author of eight books—two novels: Reinventing Rita and Finding Fran; three short story collections: Mistletoe Magic and Other Holiday Tales, Traveling Left of Center and Other Stories and Peripheral Visions and Other Stories; two books for writers: Rut-Busting Book for Authors and Rut-Busting Book for Writers; and the inspirational book, The Gifts Of Change. Her short stories and essays have appeared in print and online publications, with several earning contest placement. The host of the Living the Writing Life podcast and the founder of the annual “Midlife Moxie” Day and “Celebrate Short Fiction” Day, Christie teaches writing workshops at conferences, libraries, and schools. She is a member of the American Society of Journalists and Authors (ASJA), the Florida Writers Association (FWA) and the Women’s Fiction Writers Association (WFWA).

 

 

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Posted in excerpt, fiction, Giveaway, romance on April 25, 2024

 

 

 

 

 

A Lighthouse Snapshot: A Secret Identity, Opposites Attract Romance (The Turner Family of Bluestar Island)
Small Town Romance
4th in Series
Setting – Bluestar Island (a fictional island off the coast of Massachusetts)
Publisher ‏ : ‎ Lazy Dazy Press (April 15, 2024)
Number of Pages – 269 pages

 

Synopsis

 

As tulips bloom and the sun warms the air, the Bluestar ferry delivers a special visitor to the island whose search for the past leads her directly in the path of her future.

With Spring Fling the next event on Bluestar’s busy calendar, the residents decide to use it to play another round of matchmaking. Travel blogger Elaine “Lainey” Devereaux is led to the island by a cryptic entry in her late mother’s journal. With the weight of grief driving Lainey onward, she searches for a long-buried secret but before she can uncover the truth there’s a tragic accident.

Graphic artist Jack Turner is on top of the world as he anticipates a big promotion and a move to the Big Apple. He’s minding his own business when the most beautiful woman rushes into the roadway, right in front of his cart. With no time to stop, the collision leaves both of them stunned. As circumstances conspire to draw them together, they soon find themselves helping each other to come to terms with the past while exploring an unexpected love.

Includes a recipe for Elegant Whoopie Pies!

Bluestar Island series:
Book 1 – Love Blooms (Hannah & Ethan)
Book 2 – Harvest Dance (Aster & Sam)
Book 3 – A Lighthouse Café Christmas (Darla & Will)
Book 4 – Rising Star (Emma & Noah)
Book 5 – Summer by the Beach (Summer & Greg)
Book 6 – Brass Anchor Inn (Josie & Lane)
Book 7 – Summer Refresh (Sara & Kent)
Book 8 – A Seaside Bookshop Christmas (Melinda & Liam)
Book 9 – A Lighthouse Snapshot (Lainey & Jack)
Book 10 – Inheriting Her Island House (Brianna & Grant)

 

 

 

Amazon * Books2Read

 

 

 

Excerpt

 

Lainey gazed up at the large blue Victorian looking building. The sign in the front yard said it was the Brass Anchor Inn. Charming was the first word that came to mind.

They stepped out of the cart and made their way up the sidewalk. While Jack rushed up the two steps and moved swiftly to the white French doors, she took her time. She took in the wide porch that was lined with white rocking chairs. There were small tables between them for drinks and a potted plant. Once again, the word charming came to mind.

“Hey.” Jack held the open door for her. “Are you coming?”

She hurried her steps. Once inside the spacious lobby, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust after being out in the bright sunshine. She took in the gray wood tile floors with a royal blue runner that led from the door to the check-in desk. Her gaze meandered around the room, admiring the new furnishing that portrayed a sense of coziness.

She paused and glanced off to the side, taking in the display cases with lots of seafaring memorabilia. On the walls was a collection of framed photographs. She wanted to meander over to check it all out but Jack was already at the check-in desk waiting for her.

She moved to his side. There was no one working the desk. Noticing a brass Victorian style bell. She tapped her fingers on it. Ding.

“Coming,” a male voice called out from the office behind the desk. A moment later, an older man stepped out of the office. “Sorry to keep you waiting. Welcome to the Brass Anchor Inn. How may I help you?”

The man wore a dark blue polo shirt with the inn’s logo embroidered with white thread and a gold pin with the name Harvey Coleman. His snow-white hair was kept short. He had a close-trimmed mustache and beard. Immediately the thought of Santa Claus came to mind.

“We need a room,” Jack said.

Lainey couldn’t believe he’d just said that. She lightly elbowed him aside. “What he meant to say is I need a room.”

Jack frowned at her but remained quiet.

Harvey’s gaze moved between the two of them. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “It doesn’t matter which of you needs the room. We don’t have any available.”

“What?” Jack’s dark brows drew together. “Are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely positive.” Harvey’s tone was firm.

 

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Award-winning author, Jennifer Faye pens fun, heartwarming contemporary romances. With more than a million books sold, she is internationally published with books translated into more than a dozen languages and her work has been optioned for film. She is a two-time winner of the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award, the CataRomance Reviewers’ Choice Award, named a TOP PICK author, and been nominated for numerous other awards.

Now living her dream, she resides with her very patient husband and two spoiled cats. When she’s not plotting out her next romance, you can find her curled up with a mug of tea and a book.

 

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Giveaway

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Posted in excerpt, memoir, nonfiction on April 21, 2024

 

 

 

THIS FAMILIAR HEART:

 

AN IMPROBABLE LOVE STORY

 

by

 

Babette Fraser Hale

 

Memoir / Relationships / Aging / Grief

Publisher: Winedale Publishing

Date of Publication: April 2, 2024

Number of Pages: 312 pages

 

 

 

 

In this intimate rendering of a relationship, we learn how deceptive surface impressions can be.

Leon Hale, author of Bonney’s Place, was sixty years old, a “country boy” who wrote about rural Texans with humor and sensitivity in his popular column for The Houston Post and, later the Houston Chronicle. Babette Fraser at thirty-six was a child of privilege, a city girl educated abroad, struggling in her career while raising a young son. No one thought it could work.

Even Hale himself held serious doubts. But it did endure. The interior congruencies they discovered through a long and turbulent courtship knit them tightly together for the rest of his life.

And when he died during the Pandemic isolation period, searing levels of grief and doubt threatened Babette’s understanding of the partnership and marriage that had sustained her for forty years. Had he really been the person she thought he was? Had he kept secrets that would forever change her view of him?

In candid, evocative prose, she explores the distorted perceptions that often follow the death of a cherished spouse, and the loving resolution that allows life to go on.

 

 

 

TAMU Press  *  Amazon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Excerpt from

 

This Familiar Heart: An Improbable Love Story

 

by Babette Fraser Hale

 

 

Babette is only about two minutes late getting to Harrigan’s. She’s not sure what to expect. Will she know the man when she sees him?

The foyer is gloomy after the bright sunlight of the parking lot, but she isn’t standing there long, blinking, when a tall figure in a faded blue jean jacket appears in the doorway to the even darker interior.

He is taller than she expected, and there is something about his face that doesn’t come into focus. He is speaking to her, though, so it must be him, but he seems to be looking around her at the same time.

They sit in a booth and order beer. Only one other table has occupants.

She initiates her rehearsed explanation, slipping her shyness into an envelope of words. A quick summary of her writing project, her work for magazines, her hope for fiction. How she has recently applied to the graduate creative writing program at UH.

The manager brings them their drinks.

Hale asks where she grew up. “Actually, the other end of the street I live on now,” she replies, smiling at the peculiarity. “The name changes, though.” She’s doing the usual dance around the fact of River Oaks. The affluence of the neighborhood carries implications of privilege that embarrass her.

He looks quizzical.

“It changes at Kirby Drive,” she adds. “Not too far from here.”

He doesn’t press for more.

She can see Hale’s mood is divided, half at ease, half edgy—and all the while glancing at her, the lightest brushing glance from pale blue eyes, sliding past. Kind eyes, she thinks. Maybe. She wishes they’d hold hers longer, although even the graze gives her a jolt.

As they talk, she discovers he comes from the part of West Texas where her father was born. Maybe that’s why the rhythm of his speech feels familiar. His accent is stronger, though.

She asks a few questions. Or, more accurately, she makes statements phrased as questions in the attempt to locate commonalities of outlook. This habit is so intrinsic to her, she hardly knows it’s happening. When he becomes a little prickly, she’s so surprised she moves quickly to something else. Afterward, she will retain the impression of his response, but not the offending subject.

He asks about her novel and she tells him as much as she can.

“Whose work do you like to read?” he asks.

“Walker Percy, at the moment. Have you read him?”

He has not. “Should I?”

“He’s a wonderful writer,” she says. “Sometimes his writing makes me anxious. Once in a while. Not his newest, The Second Coming. I really loved that.”

Hale is listening. The sliding gaze—on her, then away.

She decides it’s shyness that keeps him from meeting her eyes for long. But around him the air seems to glitter. There is something delicate but important about his attention. She keeps wanting to hold her breath, the way you do when an exceptional bird lights near you. Or a wild animal that would never cause you harm. She wills herself to relax onto her chair. It doesn’t quite work.

 

 

 

 

Babette Fraser Hale is the author of A Wall of Bright Dead Feathers, 2022 winner of the debut fiction award from the Texas Institute of Letters. Her stories have received notice from Best American Short Stories, 2015 and the Meyerson Award from Southwest Review. In addition to writing fiction, Babette has been a magazine feature writer, columnist, contributing editor, book editor, and publisher. She lives in Texas.

 

 

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Visit the Lone Star Literary Life Tour Page

 

For direct links to each post on this tour, updated daily,

 

or visit the blogs directly:

 

 

04/16/24 Jennie Reads Review
04/16/24 Hall Ways Blog BONUS Stop
04/17/24 Chapter Break Book Blog Book Trailer
04/17/24 LSBBT Blog BONUS Stop
04/18/24 The Real World According to Sam Review
04/19/24 Book Fidelity Review
04/20/24 It’s Not All Gravy Review
04/21/24 StoreyBook Reviews Excerpt
04/22/24 Bibliotica Review
04/23/24 Boys’ Mom Reads Review
04/24/24 Carpe Diem Chronicles Review
04/25/24 The Plain-Spoken Pen Review

 

 

 

 

 

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Posted in excerpt, mystery, suspense, Thriller on April 20, 2024

 

 

Synopsis

 

During a passionate romance with Garrick Cripps, Suzanne Dreyfus wrote The Liberation Manifesto, a wicked satire of right-wing libertarian philosophy. However, Garrick took Suzanne’s parody seriously and now, many years later, uses it as a blueprint for how to overthrow American democracy in favor of the 1%. But for the revolution to begin, an inciting event, like a Stateside terrorist attack, is needed to convince the public that drastic change in leadership is necessary.

Suzanne, along with Carson McCready, a former Navy SEAL, and Laura Cavendish, a cyber weapons expert, are all that stand between Cripps and leadership of the country. Culminating in a violent denouement, Libertyland shows what could happen if the ideas of a madman go unchecked.

 

 

 

Amazon

 

Read for Free via Kindle Unlimited

 

Enter the Goodreads Giveaway for a print copy of this book (ends 4/25/24)

 

 

 

Praise

 

“Libertyland is a masterfully crafted political thriller, an intense book that is a joy to read.” – International Review of Books

“A riveting story that takes a deep dive into the dangers of too much greed and not enough accountability in our institutions.” – Charles Ray, author

“An electrifying and delightful experience for readers.” – Mihir Shah, The US Review of Books

“An amazing read that is thoroughly engaging and entertaining.” – Michaela Gordoni, Pacific Book Reviews

 

 

 

Excerpt

 

After retiring from the Navy three years ago, he had tried to keep his goals reasonable. Settling down, enjoying some solitude, taking the longboard to Tourmaline Beach—like the old days. Just stopping. Doing crossword puzzles over morning coffee. Taking Diego to the beach. Playing golf at Torrey Pines. Finding a simple job to make ends meet. Giving in to a sense of lightness and freedom. Like his days as a kid by the ocean, when he could breathe and splash as loud as he wanted. Not feeling the constant danger of his own breath, when merely breathing too loudly could get you killed.

He’d been out of work since mustering out, not counting

his brief stint as a security consultant. For Carson that had been a transition gig to ease himself back into civilian life, as his commanding officer had advised him. Finding a normal life now seemed like a joke. The past was in the past, but Carson’s past was an ornery bastard for whom lightness and freedom were apparently verboten.

He fixed a quick meal of beans, cheese, and a tortilla, washing it down with a cold beer. He flipped on the TV. He was just settling in when his phone lit up with a local number.

“McCready here.” “Carson?” “Speaking.”

“Johnny Petit. Catch you at a bad time?”

“I’m enjoying a cold beer and some Aztec basketball.

What’s up, Johnny?”

“Carson, just wanted to say I liked what I saw today. I’m hoping you’ll stick with us. The suits really need this telemarketing deal to work.”

Carson let a moment pass.

“What do you say, cowboy? Did I hire the right man?” Carson hesitated, then remembered the bills piling up. “I’m your cowboy, Johnny. I told you. I need the job.” “Glad to hear you say that. I’m happy as a pig in a tar pit.” Carson hung up.

On reflection the whole deal was weird. The beach. The dogs. The bullshit. Always the bullshit. But Jane, the headhunter, was helpful, and had brightened what had otherwise been a bad day at the beach.

At the job interview, Petit had peppered him with questions. Jane had told him about the fight.

“Why didn’t you hit back? The guy kicked you in the nuts, for Christ’s sake,” Petit had said.

“I don’t mess with civilians. That’s why.” “Hell’s that mean?”

“Always leads to law enforcement.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, plenty of law enforcement around here, McCready.”

He told Petit most of the truth about himself. Forty- seven years old. Retired Navy. Taught basic training. Grew up by the ocean. He didn’t tell Petit that he trained tadpoles, newbies in basic underwater demolition for the SEALs. Nor that he had reached the rank of master chief petty officer of a sixteen-member SEAL platoon and led off-book kill missions in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, and Northern Africa.

He told few people those facts.

After three years Carson still wasn’t ready to talk openly about his time as a SEAL. Endless war. Comrades dead, or alive but in pieces. Too much damned trouble. Too many SEAL headlines and tell-all books. Some guys might enjoy embellishing war stories to new bosses. To Carson that was like sticking your head up from the water’s surface to get your mouth shot off. Big mouths always led to big trouble.

 

 

About the Author

 

As a journalist and author, Peter Sacks has been nominated twice for the Pulitzer Prize, including once for his book, Tearing Down the Gates (University of California Press), an examination of the role that social class plays in American education and society. Gates also won Book of the Year from the Association of American Colleges and Universities. Sacks worked as a newspaper journalist on both coasts, as an economist, and as a college instructor in English and Journalism. His work has appeared in many publications, including The New York Times, Los Angeles Times, and The Nation. He is also the author of Generation X Goes to College and Standardized Minds.

 

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Posted in Book Release, excerpt, romance on April 19, 2024

 

 

Synopsis

 

 

“I’ll find you again.”

That was my husband Jesse’s dying promise, a vow I’m certain he’ll keep. This wasn’t the first lifetime Jesse and I shared, and since love never dies, we knew, someday, we would be reunited.
After he passed away, I thought I’d never experience a love like that again—not in this lifetime anyway—and I accepted that.

But fate had other plans for me…

I met Dev Abramson when his white German shepherd plowed into me in Central Park, knocking me flat on my back, then slathering my face with her effervescent kisses. I was instantly drawn to Dev’s calm, centered presence and to his dog, Sheba, who welcomed me like a long-lost friend.

Dev gave me his card, but I failed to follow up, something I deeply regretted. So, when our paths crossed a second time, I wasn’t about to let him slip away again. I needed to know more about
the handsome jazz pianist.

I never expected to fall in love with Dev, but now that I have—I’m afraid if I tell him that I was married to Jesse, one of the most famous rock stars in the world, and that we have shared previous lifetimes—I’ll lose him.

But my connection with Dev was instantaneous and so deep—as if I’d known him forever.
And I can’t help but wonder, maybe I have…

 

THIS BOOK IS THE SEQUEL TO LOVE ON THE EDGE OF TIME WHICH MUST BE READ FIRST.
THIS BOOK IS NOT A STANDALONE, IT IS A SEQUEL.

 

 

 

 

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Excerpt

 

We are both in deep. So deep that the capacity to maim one another is real and I don’t think either one of us ever expected to be this emotionally vulnerable. Losing him over this would devastate me, and what I’m seeing in him is the exact same fear. Dev is truly afraid of losing me over this. Not because he’s not been part of my soul journey, but that there is the possibility of my crossing paths, just like I did with him, with another person who has been, and if that time comes, he fears I will be powerless in fighting my fate, destiny trouncing free will.

This is f*ed up.

I know I need to cut him a break and realize that this is not a thing couples have to deal with—usually, ever—and he’s being tasked with dealing with it. I have always seen him as so centered and secure, that I expected he would. Flawlessly. But he’s just a man. A mortal man. And he’s right, I did set him up with my expectations. I need to take responsibility in this situation, too.

As we stand a mere three feet apart, I fear the chasm between us will continue to expand not only in distance, but also in depth. Like tectonic plates shifting, there’s no going back once a quake has occurred.

I can’t let it get there.

Not over this.

“Dev…” My heart hurts and I can feel my mouth going dry. “I apologize for being so insensitive and for getting angry. I’m expecting you to just deal with something that 99.9999% of people will never be asked to deal with. And for it to be like no big deal. Even though it’s a very big deal in my life.” God, I feel like shit. “But baby, it’s not a dealbreaker. Not for me. I’m not looking for anyone else. I don’t want to find someone else.” Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. “I just want you. I just want you.” The words catch in my throat.

“I just want to know, Kylie. I don’t want it always hanging there, lingering, ready to pounce and blow our world apart when we least expect it. When I least expect it.”

“I’m in too deep for that to happen. Don’t you know that? Please tell me you know that?” How can he not? How could he ever doubt what we have? “And by the way, you are my White Knight, whether you want to be or not. I owe my heart coming back to life to you. Please tell me you know that.” I’m not doing a good job of keeping the pain and fear out of my voice.

Please don’t take your love away from me.

“I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Shaking my head vigorously, I try to reassure him. “They’ve both dropped. There are no more shoes.” I smile, trying to insert a millimeter of slack into the tension. “Except for in my closet, and as you already know, there’s an insane amount of them in there.”

That elicits a smile and a head shake.

“Okay, so if you don’t want to be my White Knight, then I’m just going to think of you as my Ten of Cups.” Jesse was my King of Hearts. Dev my Ten of Cups.

Apropos.

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“Google it. It’s a compliment. I think you’ll like what you learn.”

 

EXCERPT FROM LOVE ON THE EDGE OF FOREVER © 2024 Julie A. Richman

 

 

About the Author

 

USA TODAY Bestselling author Julie A. Richman is a native New Yorker living deep in the heart of Texas. With an insatiable wanderlust and love of nature, Julie can often be found behind the lens of a camera in between writing books.

 

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Posted in coming of age, excerpt, fiction on April 10, 2024

 

 

Synopsis

 

Journey into 1910 Iowa: Where Mystery, Adventure & Destiny Collide in Fred Schmidt’s Pursuit of Life’s True Purpose in The Search.

In rural Iowa, 1910, Fred Schmidt faces life’s pivotal question: How should he live his life? This compelling historical fiction transports readers into a world bursting with real and mystical characters. Teamed up with Artie Holberg, the ambitious son of a renowned horse trader, Fred embarks on an enthralling adventure-from a daring scheme in Minnesota to a treacherous escapade in pre-World War I Europe. Encounters with enigmatic figures like Count Von Drathen and the beautifully captivating Baroness Van Essen weave a tapestry of suspense, mystery, and revelation.

Dewayne Rahe, inspired by the rich background of his cultural heritage and history, masterfully blends history, destiny, and adventure in The Search. A tale about finding oneself amid life’s mysteries, this riveting narrative beautifully encapsulates the universal struggle of choosing one’s own path.

A must-read for fans of historical fiction, journey with Fred as he navigates the intricate map of destiny, love, and intrigue. Will the mystical voice guiding him reveal the truth he seeks? Dive in to uncover the thrilling conclusion. Don’t just read a story, experience the search for destiny.

 

 

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Excerpt

 

From Chapter 16  The  Encounter

 

It was late afternoon and the sun’s final rays were fading from the western sky when the three men rode up the tree lined lane that was the entrance to the Van Essen Estate. The manor house was in the center of the courtyard, flanked on one side by servant’s quarters and on the far side by extensive stables and barns. The men dismounted and paused for a moment to take in the scene, marveling at the grandeur of the buildings and the grounds.

“Count Hugo, tell us again how you know this family. Did you really meet them in an army hospital?” asked Artie.

“Yes, strange as that may seem. It was during the war with France in 1871. The father Hans was in the bed next to mine recovering from his wounds. The nurse Anna, that cared for us was like an angel sent from heaven. She and Hans decided to marry after he recovered from his wounds.  Sadly, both of my old friends have now passed. Their daughter, the Baroness Van Essen has remained a close friend and confidant. I try to stop and visit her whenever I am in this part of the state of Westphalia. She often seeks my advice on the management of the estate,” proudly stated the Count.

“Frederick, Artie why don’t you take these poor, exhausted horses into the stables and get them bedded down for the night. I’ll go up to the manor house and make our arrival known. Come up to the house when you’re finished. They’ll be ready for you then.”

The old man had a spring in his step as he sauntered up the graveled driveway towards the manor’s front door. The boys led the three horses into a large but empty stable. Finding no one available to ask for permission, they took the three closest stalls. They unsaddled their mounts and began to feed and water them when the unmistakable cry of a nearby stallion filled the air. Artie worked at quieting their horses, while Fred left the stable to find the stallion.

He entered a stone barn a short distance away and there in a box stall stood the most beautiful black stallion he had ever seen. The young man and the horse stared at each other, as if each was taking the measure of the other. Fred noticed the beast’s long black mane and tail that someone had taken great pains to curry comb and braid. The horse reared on his hind legs as if to show that he was indeed the ruler of the stable. It was at that moment that a huge pile of loose, dusty hay came raining down on Fred from a shaft in the upstairs hayloft. The stallion pranced and snorted as if he was amused by the spectacle of the young man being completely covered in dusty hay.

“Hey, watch where you’re throwing that hay,” shouted Fred, quickly realizing that whoever was pushing down the hay probably didn’t speak English. It was then that a stable hand slid down from the loft on a rope and turned to face the dust covered young man. The youth had a cap pulled tight over their head and a bandana tied over their face to keep out the dust, revealing only their eyes. Fred stared into the bluest eyes he had ever seen and was momentarily mesmerized by them. Then brushing the dust from his hair and clothes he tried to converse in his inadequate German.

“Guten tag, Ich bin Frederick Schmidt from Amerika. Ich bin kaufen pferde. I’m here to buy horses,” Fred tried to inform the stable hand in both languages.

The young person stood transfixed and stared at Fred in disbelief. Muttering a barely audible, “Oh mein Gott,” the stable hand pushed past Fred and ran frantically from the barn. Fred was left standing in the stall covered with hay dust and chaff. It was then that Artie poked his head in the barn door and surveyed the comical situation.

 

 

About the Author

 

Dewayne Rahe, a retired Doctor of Veterinary Medicine and author of Last of the Wild, resides near Dyersville, Iowa. Influenced by his rich cultural heritage and history, Dewayne writes captivating stories, seeking to share wisdom and guidance, especially for his ten beloved grandchildren. His books are highlighted with illustrations by his artist wife, Krystal. Beyond writing, Dewayne enjoys spending time with his family, gardening, biking, and traveling to his grandchildren’s numerous athletic events.

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Posted in excerpt, Poetry on April 5, 2024

 

 

Synopsis

 

The poems in this collection were written over the course of a year. I challenged myself to right simple, rhythmic poems that rhymed on the 2nd and 4th lines. Some of them are four lines long, and others are twelve lines long. They have to do with nature, the natural world, loved ones, and what it’s like to life a quiet life in this hectic day and age. I hope you enjoy them.

 

 

 

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Excerpt

 

Contemplating the moon on a frigid winter night. Birdwatching in the rolling hills outside of town. Planting a garden and watching it grow. The poems in this collection reflect Jim’s love of the natural world and his belief that Nature can help heal a wounded spirit. They are short, four or twelve lines in length. They are rhymed on the second and fourth lines. And they are very accessible.

 

Frigid Magic

 

In the frigid freezing morning

The sun rose frosty and bright

And shone across the snowy land

Reflecting prisms of sparkling light.

 

When it comes right down to it, the poems in this collection are simple contemplations on the joys and challenges of living in this hectic day and age. They are meant to be read in quiet moments and enjoyed for their simplicity. Hopefully, they will enrich the reader’s spirit. And put a smile on their face.

 

 

About the Author

 

Jim’s stories and poems have appeared in nearly five hundred online and print publications. His collection of short stories, Resilience, is published by Bridge House Publishing. Short Stuff, a collection of flash fiction and drabbles is published by Chapeltown Books. Periodic Stories, Periodic Stories Volume Two, Periodic Stories Volume Three – A Novel, and Periodic Stories Volume Four are published by Impspired. Dreamers, a collection of short stories, is published by Clarendon House Publishing. Something Better, a dystopian adventure novella, and the novel, The Alien of Orchard Lake, are published by Dark Myth Publications. In the fall of 2022, his collection entitled Holiday Stories was published by Impspired as was his collection of poetry, Haiku Seasons. In February 2023, Periodic Stories Volume IV was published, as was his collection of poems, The Alchemy of Then, both by Impspired. In June 2023, a collection of flash fiction, Dancing With Butterflies, was published by Impspired.In July 2023, his YA novella The Battle of Marvel Wood was published by Impspired. His short story “Aliens” was nominated by The Zodiac Press for the 2020 Pushcart Prize. His story “The Maple Leaf” was voted 2021 Story of the Year for Spillwords. He was voted December 2022 Author of the Month for Spillwords. He also reads his stories for Talking Stories Radio and for Jim’s Storytime on his website. He lives in a small town west of Minneapolis, Minnesota.

 

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Posted in excerpt, fiction, Short Story on April 1, 2024

 

 

Synopsis

Overlapping memories, overlapping lives, wide open spaces, and soft but sometimes heart-breaking reminiscences, with the mighty Mississippi running through it all — let Jim Bates take you on rich, human, intertwining journeys into a landscape of souls where you can glimpse beauty and peace, longing and contentment, the burden of past decisions and their forgiveness, and perhaps find yourself.

 

 

 

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Excerpt

 

 

The Standoff

 

Without warning the snow ledge we’d been traversing collapsed, sending Jerry and me hurtling twenty feet down the side of the shear granite canyon into the boiling rapids of the boulder-infested Tettegouche River. In a matter of moments our packs were swept away and our heavy winter clothes were completely soaked, but we were able to fight our way out of the icy water onto the snowy riverbank where we lay exhausted in the minus-ten-degree February air. I’d sprained my wrist and from the swelling in his ankle it looked like Jerry had either a bad sprain or a fracture. We were minutes from freezing to death and had to get a fire going. Thankfully, Jerry was able to.

“There’s hope,” I said scooting closer as the first flames licked the pine needles we’d used for tinder. “We may make it yet.”

Jerry gave me a sick grin, “Always the optimist, aren’t you Steve? We’ve lost our gear, I used all our matches to get the fire started and we don’t have any food except these granola bars.” A point he emphasized by reaching into his pocket and handing me one of the two he had remaining. I had none. “And no one knows where we are. Yeah, things are looking great.”

I gratefully took the bar, opened it and contemplatively munched. My friend did the same.

If I were an optimistist, Jerry was a realist. We’d been camping on Lone Loon Lake for two nights, only three miles from the trailhead where we’d parked our car. We could have snow-shoed the distance back in half a day easily, but we’d taken an alternate route for fun. Not a good idea. We’d gotten lost, ended up in the river, and now here we were, the flames from our fire the only thing keeping us from dying a slow agonizing death from exposure in the unforgiving Minnesota wilderness.

With the sun hanging low on the horizon and with the kindling in the fire starting to die out, I hurried to collect as much firewood as I could, hindered greatly by my sprained wrist. Jerry could hardly move due to his swollen ankle, now nearly popping the laces of his boot. By the time I had gathered a healthy pile of pine, birch and aspen, the pain had become so intense he was fading into and out of consciousness.

With that in mind, I almost didn’t believe him when he recovered momentarily and pointed to the top of the canyon on the other side of the river. “Steve, you’re not going to believe this. We’ve got visitors.”

Thinking we were going to be rescued, I was about to cheer when my throat constricted and my heart rate jumped from the adrenaline pouring into my blood. There, peering over the edge of the canyon in the fading twilight was a wolf – a large one, an alpha male. In a moment he was joined by a smaller wolf, probably his mate, then three more, most certainly last year’s offspring.

I turned to him, “My god, it’s a wolf pack,” I whispered. “What are we going to do?”

For once in his life, Jerry had nothing to say. Then he spoke softly, “I’ve no idea, but off hand, I’d say we’re toast.”

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Jim’s stories and poems have appeared in nearly five hundred online and print publications. His collection of short stories, Resilience, is published by Bridge House Publishing. Short Stuff, a collection of flash fiction and drabbles is published by Chapeltown Books. Periodic Stories, Periodic Stories Volume Two, Periodic Stories Volume Three – A Novel, and Periodic Stories Volume Four are published by Impspired. Dreamers, a collection of short stories, is published by Clarendon House Publishing. Something Better, a dystopian adventure novella, and the novel, The Alien of Orchard Lake, are published by Dark Myth Publications. In the fall of 2022, his collection entitled Holiday Stories was published by Impspired as was his collection of poetry, Haiku Seasons. In February 2023, Periodic Stories Volume IV was published, as was his collection of poems, The Alchemy of Then, both by Impspired. In June 2023, a collection of flash fiction, Dancing With Butterflies, was published by Impspired.In July 2023, his YA novella The Battle of Marvel Wood was published by Impspired. His short story “Aliens” was nominated by The Zodiac Press for the 2020 Pushcart Prize. His story “The Maple Leaf” was voted 2021 Story of the Year for Spillwords. He was voted December 2022 Author of the Month for Spillwords. He also reads his stories for Talking Stories Radio and for Jim’s Storytime on his website. He lives in a small town west of Minneapolis, Minnesota.

 

Website

 

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