Posted in excerpt, Science Fiction, Thriller on July 6, 2023

 

 

Synopsis

 

When the solar system’s key asteroid mine is seized by revolutionaries, it puts the secret mission of the spaceship Ulysses in jeopardy. Without a refueling launch from the asteroid, the survival of the ship and its crew is uncertain. The safest course for the Ulysses? Abandon the mission and limp home.

But Cal Scott, captain of the Ulysses, is an astronaut of the old school and failure is not an option. He has a plan: head straight for the asteroid belt and get their fuel—one way or another.

 

 

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Book 2 – Encounter at Jupiter

 

Book 3 – The Odyssey

 

Read all of the books for Free via Kindle Unlimited

 

 

Excerpt

 

[The Lander] was still, essentially, in the same two-hundred-and-fifty-mile-high, perfectly circular orbit the Ulysses had occupied since grabbing the taxi. He slid his fingers over a disc-shaped control on his touchscreen; it spun like a platter. Reaction control thrusters outside the craft pitched the vehicle so that the taxi’s back faced down toward the asteroid and its engines aimed at its direction of travel. His fingers twirled a second disc; horizontally placed thrusters flared to roll the ship over so that the planetoid below appeared in its viewport. Opposing thrusters belched quickly to stop the roll at the right moment.

“Go for transfer burn, Cal.”

Cal slid the thrust tab all the way forward. Bright blue-yellow cones of flame burst from the twin engines, slowing the taxi lander. He held the slider in position as the mission timer clicked away.

The taxi was, second by second, shedding horizontal speed and falling deeper into Ceres’s gravity, dropping faster and faster. Its orbit had gone from perfectly circular to an exaggerated ellipse that would bring it down to just fifty thousand feet above the ground on exactly the opposite side of the planetoid from where the burn had begun. If he did nothing, the little taxi would loop back up around Ceres, returning to its apogee two hundred and fifty miles above.

Cal had half an orbit to think. He didn’t relish the time, but the lander’s descent path would give him a better look at the icy, dusty treasure house of an asteroid. Ceres was the largest body in an asteroid belt made up of millions of rocky objects. The planetoid made up over a third of the entire belt’s mass and a good amount of it was in the form of water ice. Every now and then, due to an odd combination of forces, a geyser of sublimated water vapor would spew out of the little world. Ice volcanoes. As such, Ceres had its own faint atmosphere, and it lent it an air of mystery: a tenuously shrouded and misty sphere against a backdrop of endless clarity.

Dropping down below one hundred miles a shattered area, appearing to be made up of great crusts of ice and clay heaved over one another, spread out beneath him. Another quarter way around the small globe and he would reach the low point in the transfer orbit. That would be the time to initiate descent. Looking over the taxi’s systems, he thought he caught a sparkling reflection in his viewport: an object rising from the surface? He looked again but could see nothing. He checked for a record of it on the scopes but could find no trace. Paranoia?

The taxi lander swept down, approaching the low point—the nadir—of its orbit. Cal’s fingers hovered over the control screen. There would be a nearly endless number of repeat tries if he missed. The lander would stay in its transfer orbit, shifting between the high point of the parking orbit and the fifty-thousand-foot low, but Cal wasn’t about to miss the moment, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Odysseus would fire the engines if he failed to act, even though he had asked it not to.

Right at fifty thousand feet, he ramped the thrust up to full, and the lander shed enough of its remaining momentum that Ceres’s gravity had it. There was nothing that was going to keep it from falling to the planetoid. There just wasn’t enough fuel remaining in its tanks to put it back into orbit. Technically, all paths in space were orbits; this new one the taxi was falling along just happened to intersect with the ground.

Now, Cal thought, it was all about mitigating the fall.

 

 

About the Author

 

R. Peter Keith grew up on a steady diet of classic science fiction—Arthur C. Clarke, Asimov, Heinlein, Farmer—and Marvel comics. He went to the Joe Kubert school of cartoon art during his teenage years, received a degree in psychology, and then started a museum exhibit and games company. He is a recognized expert on the history of video games, having worked as an advisor for recognized entities like the U.S. Post Office, History Channel, Microsoft, AMD, and Digital Eclipse. In this capacity he has appeared as a commentator and interviewee on CBS This Morning, CNN, CNBC, and others. He appeared in the CNBC documentary Game On, as well as History Channel’s Modern Marvels.

In 2008, he designed and produced the largest and most complex restoration of an extinct ecosystem for a museum exhibit, bringing back to life over 2.2 square miles of late Cretaceous Wyoming complete with accurately simulated animals, insects, and plants with proper dispersal and nutritional values. The animals could hunt and track visitors via sight and sound and what is called “digital scent.”

In 2015, an exhibit Keith designed and produced broke all attendance records at its debut at Space Center Houston, NASA Johnson Space Center’s official visitor center, and because of its success his company was awarded a NASA Space Act Agreement Partnership. During the research and creation of this exhibition, which simulates space flight and landings on multiple moons and worlds in the solar system, Keith spent hours upon hours discussing space with the greatest minds at NASA. He visited the astronaut training center, spending time in and out of various spacecraft, including time in the Orion Space Capsule with one of its designers. He piloted the Lunar Lander simulator at NASA’s Langley Research center and spent months of accumulated time within a simulation of the lunar surface accurate down to a scale of 1 foot. This experience inspired the idea for Wine Dark Deep.

R. Peter Keith is married with two kids, two rescue dogs, and two vintage sports cars that he calls his “steel brothers.”

 

Website

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Posted in Cozy, excerpt, Giveaway, Guest Post, mystery on July 5, 2023

 

 

 

 

The Water Tower: A Lakeview Mystery
Cozy Mystery/Women Sleuths
1st in Series
Setting – A fictional Ohio town in the suburbs of Cleveland called Lakeview
Level Best Books (June 20, 2023)
Paperback ‏ : ‎ 250 pages

 

Synopsis

 

Josie Ashbury was a successful Hollywood actress with a booming career—until an on-set breakdown sends her back to her small Ohio hometown to recover. Taking a job teaching at her old high school, Josie is beginning to put the pieces of her life back together when one of her students dies under suspicious circumstances. The police close the case quickly, without any real answers. Josie is determined to find the truth behind the girl’s death.

At the same time, Josie is battling demons of her own. As she faces debilitating insomnia that leaves her with gaps in her memory, she dives into the tangled secrets surrounding the investigation. When she finally unravels the web, she discovers that the truth lies much closer to home than she could have ever imagined.

 

 

Amazon * B&N * Apple * BAM * Kobo * IndieBound

 

 

Excerpt

 

She stood on the water tower, looking at the skyline she had only observed from the ground. You really could see the whole town from up here. Funny how your whole life can fit into one 360-degree glance. Peering down at the ground, she was no longer able to see individual blades of grass, all of them blurring into a sea of perfect emerald green. To her right was the roof of Lakeview High School, looking small from this vantage point. She felt as though if she leaned over far enough, she could almost touch it. But that was ridiculous; the school had to be several hundred feet away. Her vision came in and out of focus as she swayed, thinking about her life, her past, her future… Reaching out her slender arm, she twirled her wrist. She could hardly wait for graduation when, everyone said, “real life” would begin. “I can’t wait to get out of here,” her friends exclaimed, dreaming of big cities and even bigger lives in far-off places: Chicago, Los Angeles, New York, anywhere but here. But she knew they would return, just like their parents, raising 2.5 kids with a Labradoodle and a balding husband in one of the best-little-suburbs in the country. Was it really so bad? She watched all these super-educated women who had given up their careers to stay home and clean up after the kids and drive to soccer practice, instead of changing the world as they’d so hopefully planned when plotting their escape years earlier. Was that her fate? Was that what awaited her now? Dozens of similar thoughts swirled and crashed like waves in front of her, mixing in a fantastic spray of colors, lights, and sounds.

 

 

Guest Post

 

5 Tips to Keep Your Cool Throughout the Publishing Process

 

 

You’ve finished your book. Hooray! The hard work is done! Haha, just kidding (kind of). When you’re writing a book, the actual writing is only a portion of the process. Now it’s time to get it published. If you’re self-publishing, the process is more in your control; but if you’ve decided that traditional publishing is the route you want to take, you may have a longer road ahead of you than you think.

Let’s quickly go through the traditional publishing process. Assuming a publishing house hasn’t magically swept in and bought your book (which I’ve heard does happen from time to time, just not to me); the first step in the publishing process is finding an agent. Once you’ve found an agent, the agent will read your work, likely edit it or, at the very least, give you notes. When you’ve finished revising, your agent will shop your book around to publishers. Most agents have relationships with specific editors at different publishing houses, so your person will probably have someone (or several people) in mind. The editors will want time to read your work, then they will let your agent know if they want to take on the project, i.e., publish your book. The publisher then sends contracts (which you should always, always, always have an attorney look over), and once you’ve signed, the real fun begins.

Your publisher will get you on a production schedule, which can mean your book will be published quickly or, well, not so quickly. My publisher bought my book in 2021, and my publication date ended up being in June of 2023. During the time while you’re waiting for the book to be published, you’ll do rounds of edits with your editor – how many rounds depends on the manuscript. You may also have to give guidance about cover art, write acknowledgements, summaries, and dedications. Depending on the publisher, you may also be involved in the marketing process, which can involve podcast interviews, blog interviews, newspaper interviews, guest posts ( 😀 ), book signings, and so on.

 

So the question is: how do you keep your sanity through this whole process?

 

  1. Be patient. Publishing a book requires the most patience I’ve ever had to put towards anything in my life. I am not a patient person by nature, so I’ve had to try to train myself not to freak out. Do whatever you need to do to keep your cool – meditate, do yoga, scream into a pillow, whatever works for you.
  2. Stay on top of your end. There are some things that are in your control during the time you’re waiting for your book to get on the shelves. Being punctual – or better yet, early – with your materials will make things that much easier on your publisher, agent, PR person, and whoever else is helping you. Control what you can!
  3. Develop a social calendar. We all hope that our book will be an amazing success out of nowhere, but posting regularly about your release on social media bumps up the chances. Don’t inundate your followers and friends with reminders to buy your book, but do post reminders from time to time so people don’t forget.
  4. Communicate with your people. My agent, editor, publisher, and public relations person have been so, so, so amazing throughout the last couple of years. If you have questions, ask them. They want to help! And it’s better than sitting around wondering what the heck is going on.
  5. Enjoy yourself! For many of us, publishing a book is a dream come true. Allow yourself time to enjoy that this is actually happening, especially if your road has been complicated. Plan a launch party, break out the champagne, schedule a dinner to celebrate, or just go up on your roof and yell “I’m published! I’m published! I’m published!” a la Monica Geller from Friends on your pub day. You’ve absolutely earned it.

 

 

About the Author

 

Amy Young is an author, comedian, and actor based in Cleveland. After spending a decade in Los Angeles working in the entertainment industry and writing her debut novel, The Water Tower, she returned to Ohio to be closer to family. Amy is working on her second book, a thriller, and in her free time she enjoys going to the theatre, bingeing reality TV, and spending time with her husband and many, many cats. She has a B.A. in English from Kenyon College.

 

Website * Facebook * Twitter

 

Instagram * TikTok * Goodreads

 

 

 

Giveaway

 

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Posted in excerpt, Fantasy, Science Fiction on June 29, 2023

 

 

Synopsis

 

Who sent the black panther guide, and where will it lead her? A young woman, Jennifer, receives a visit from a spirit panther which takes her into an amazing adventure. Thrust into a relationship with Vijay, a technician in the Mercury Theatre, she must overcome her past to learn to love him. Meanwhile, the message of the panther is not clear, and an Artificial Intelligence named Gabriel claims to be the one who can help her solve the puzzle. This speculative, romantic fantasy is the first novel of the Jennifer Trilogy, which begins the series of Gaia’s Daughters.

 

 

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Smashwords

 

This book will be on sale for 25% off in July at Smashwords

 

 

Excerpt

 

Chapter 14 – MEETING WITH WENDELL

 

Wendell was sitting at his desk surrounded by a cloud of sweet-smelling pipe tobacco smoke when Jennifer arrived at work the following morning. She knocked on his open door, and he waved her in.

“Come in, come in, child, and close the door, why don’t you.”

Jennifer didn’t like being called a child. ‘But it’s not the worst thing I’ve been called,’ she thought.

“Hi Wendell, I came to give you a progress report.” Wendell put down his pipe and leaned forward, seeming intent on hearing what she had to say.

“I’ve connected with Vijay, and we’re living in the same apartment now. I believe that was the first objective.”

“Yes, go on.”

“We’ve been to the Green Dragon together, and Vijay is caught up in the revolutionary spirit there. We also found Marjorie and watched her play in the park. Vijay said it gave him insight into the kind of resistance movement he needs to create.”

“And how was Marjorie? We’ve known each other for a long time, but it’s been a while since I last saw her.”

“She said she knew you and seemed delighted that you sent us to her, but she didn’t tell us about your past.”

“No, I don’t suppose she would. So, what are you planning next?”

“Vijay is going to recruit Sally and Greg into his resistance movement. Vijay believes they’d be a great asset.”

“Yes, very good. I believe Vijay’s instinct is right.”

“I’m also working on inspiring Vijay. And I’ll be talking with Marjorie again. She seems like an interesting person to know better.”

“Very good. I can see how that makes sense. Now, what do you need from me? I assume you didn’t just drop by to tell me that you’ve done what I asked. I already knew that.”

“I need you to set us some tasks to give Vijay the sense that we’re moving forward. Tell us what you need us to do next while he’s getting started. The people paying for all this, what do they want to see happen?”

“Don’t concern yourself with them. I’ll have some more tasks in a few days. Meanwhile, keep working on your handwriting. It’s getting much better, but there’s still room for improvement.”

“Don’t worry, I’m still doing my cover job. But if you’re going to be our secret boss, we need you to do your job as well.”

Wendell sat back, raising one eyebrow. “It’s always so refreshing talking with you, Ms. Dupont. I’ll let you know when I’ve spoken with our sponsors. Please leave the door open as you leave.”

He picked up his pipe in his left hand and a half-read script in his right.

Jennifer went out into the hall feeling pleased with herself. ‘The next tasks should tell us a lot.’

She went to the control room to tell Vijay about her conversation, but as she climbed the short flight of stairs, she heard voices above her.

“That’s great,” Vijay was saying. “Why not come by our place for dinner tonight, and we can talk more about how you might contribute.”

Jennifer reached the top of the stairs and found Sally and Greg sitting with Vijay.

“Hi Sally, Greg. Sounds like you’re thinking of joining us. That’s wonderful! What time did you want to come over?”

Greg looked at Sally, who answered, “Would 7pm work for you?”

“Perfect,” said Jennifer. “I’m looking forward to spending some time together.”

Sally and Greg made their way back down the stairs. Jennifer heard the control room door open, and then close behind them.

“Vijay, what are you thinking of? Why invite them to our apartment?”

“Because, Jennifer, I have no other tangible proof that any of this is real. That apartment is proof that someone is funding this, funding us, and that we’re engaged in something serious. I want to leverage it as we get started. Besides, I trust Sally and Greg.”

“Why do you trust them?”

“Jenn, what do you know about their relationship? Are they just good friends? Do they sleep together? Do they even live together?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows, really. Noone ever talks about them, or if they do, it’s only to say they’re a mystery because no one knows.”

“Exactly. So, they’ll be able to keep our secrets as well. They’re already used to keeping private things private.”

“Okay, just don’t expect me to cook dinner.”

“No? I was planning for a feast of toast and coffee!” Jennifer did her best to look hurt. “You should be planning to sleep on the couch tonight.”

Vijay laughed, stood up to kiss her, then went back to his work as she went down into the lobby, where there were always more ticket requests waiting.

 

 

About the Author

 

Kevin Coleman is a well-regarded Canadian author. Prior to his journey as a writer, Kevin spent a significant portion of his career as a consultant to large corporations and governments around the world, applying his expertise in technology and management. The insights and experiences gleaned from this role have enriched his understanding of human dynamics, a quality vividly apparent in his writing.

With his wide-ranging life experiences and global adventures, Kevin crafts characters of depth and realism, set in authentic locales. He adeptly weaves themes of personal growth, love, and redemption throughout his narratives, which have garnered him a devoted readership. Kevin’s prowess in contemporary fiction is particularly evident in his captivating ‘Jennifer’ series.

Presently, Kevin calls the northern shore of Lake Ontario home, where he savors the serenity and picturesque views that Oakville offers. In his downtime, Kevin engages in making kites and indulges his passion for sailing when the opportunity arises. He is also a proud father to two adult children and grandfather to two grandsons.

With every new narrative, Kevin invites his readers to reflect deeply on their own experiences and emotions. He is committed to continuing his journey of crafting engaging, thought-provoking stories that resonate and inspire.

 

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Posted in excerpt, fiction, Giveaway, women on June 21, 2023

 

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

It’s September 1995, the first year of the rest of HADLEY TODD’s life. After a decade in Los Angeles, trying and failing to launch her career as a playwright, Hadley has returned to her hometown in rural New York to write and to be closer to her lonely, ailing father—not that he always welcomes the help. Between looking after him and teaching Shakespeare to teenage malcontents at the local high school, Hadley is determined to produce a masterpiece before 36. She even joins a writing group, thinking the structure will keep her focused. Hadley hopes to channel her recent heartbreak from being dumped in L.A. into writing a play about the last moment of a woman’s innocence, a play that an agent friend in Hollywood has promised to produce. But she struggles with writer’s block and seeks inspiration.

Enter TREY HARDING, a young, handsome sports reporter for a local radio station who covers sports at the high school where Hadley teaches. Trey reminds Hadley of her L.A. ex and is the perfect spark to touch off her imagination. Trey has two girlfriends who work at the school, giving Hadley a great perch from which to watch and write down their interactions. The fact that Trey is an aspiring rock star and she has L.A. record biz connections makes the alliance perfect. She dangles promises of music biz glory while watching his moves. But after they both go to Hollywood, Hadley learns that believing in herself is all the inspiration she needs.

 

 

Amazon * B&N

 

 

Excerpt

 

She gazed into his face, his high color, those light eyes comprising both shades of teal and blue at once. If he kisses me again, I won’t stop him this time.

“Listen,” he said while taking her right hand in his. “We shook these hands on a deal that said you’d introduce me to someone in the music biz, right?”

She nodded. His hand was smooth and dry. She ever-so-slightly tightened her fingers in his grip.

“Then let’s skip these so-called lessons. I’ve already made arrangements through a friend to get a demo made this weekend. So all you have to do is honor that handshake and arrange for me to meet your connection in Hollywood, OK? Just a name, a phone call to introduce me.”

Her play would fail with no inspiration. And stuck with carrying out the worst part of the deal! How did this happen?

“OK,” she said, but not in a commanding voice.

“Good,” he said. He released her hand, breaking what she worried might be the last physical connection she’d ever have with him.

He grabbed his guitar case and headed for the door.

“Wait!” she shouted at him, taking long strides to keep him from leaving. “One more thing. What about you?”

“What about me what?”

“You. Have you ever fallen in love?”

He winked at her. “All the time.”

She’d have the last word, something she realized was important to her. “I think it’s wrong, all these women you lead on. Don’t you? I mean, they may get attached, fall for you. But you seem to use them, to see what you can get out of them for your own purposes. I think that’s wrong, They’re human beings, after all. With feelings.”

He turned around, his eyes drained of any light. “They use me, too. It’s not like they’re not getting anything out of it.”

“What am I getting out of this?” she asked him, if not rhetorically.

He stood on one hip, a move that made him appear more rakish than usual. “I really don’t know, Miss Todd. I wondered that myself. I thought perhaps you were bored or intrigued. Or maybe you’re a control freak.” He took a step toward her so he was within half an inch of her face. “Or maybe you’re just like the rest and can’t resist me.”

Hadley stood her ground. “How do you know when it’s over? The moment when love, or lust, turns into something else. Something not as passionate?”

“I don’t think about it,” he said, returning her gaze. “It’s something that happens. Maybe it’s not one moment. It just is.”

He turned around and walked out of the room.

 

 

About the Author

 

Jude Hopkins has published essays in The Los Angeles Times, Medium, and elsewhere, as well as poetry in numerous journals and magazines.

 

Website * Twitter * Medium

 

 

 

Giveaway

 

Jude Hopkins is giving away one $25 Amazon Gift Card!

 

Terms & Conditions:

● By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old.
● One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter to receive one $25 Amazon Gift Card.
● This giveaway ends midnight June 30.
● Winner will be contacted via email on July 1.
● Winner has 48 hours to reply.

 

Good luck everyone!

 

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Posted in Book Release, excerpt, fiction, Historical, LGBTQ+ on June 13, 2023

 

 

Synopsis

 

A decade has passed since Lucas Connolly lost his best friend—and the only man he’s ever loved—in World War I, but he still can’t shake his guilt over Jamie’s death. In fact, ever since losing Jamie, Lucas has heard his friend’s voice inside his head—confused about what happened to him, begging him for help. And now, suddenly, it’s not just Jamie’s voice anymore; now, a specter who looks and acts exactly like Jamie did before his death, and who is demanding answers from Lucas about what happened to him, has begun to haunt him.

Concerned about Lucas’s deteriorating mental state, his friend Angela encourages him to move on with his life, and even sets him up with a coworker whom she suspects is also gay. But Lucas is too consumed with the secret he still keeps about the part he played in Jamie’s death to even begin to form a healthy connection with someone new—and as Jamie’s ghost begins to recover his memories and get closer to the truth, Lucas’s obsession only deepens.

Ultimately, Lucas realizes that his only path forward is to first go backward—that only in examining his troubled youth, facing his deepest self, and shining a light on the shadowed parts of his past will he finally be able to set his old friend, and himself, free.

 

 

Amazon * Bookshop

 

 

Excerpt

 

With his other hand, Lucas slowly pulled out his revolver and pointed it at Jamie’s heart. “I love you, Jamie. I love you.” Lucas squeezed the trigger and kept his hand as steady as he could as Jamie’s blood sprayed all over his face. There was a moment of confusion or betrayal that crossed over Jamie’s features, his smile still playing on his lips, his eyes trying to register what had just happened. “Lucas…?”

The steady thrum of his heart slowed quite suddenly, his hand went slack, and the life drained from his eyes. All around them, the war seemed to go quiet.

“Jamie?” Lucas whispered, his voice wavering, his head shaking with disbelief… the gravity of his action began to sink in. What had he done? What had he done!?

“Jamie!!”

He shook his body, Jamie’s blood still hot and slick on his hand. His blond head flopped over to the side, his mouth ajar. Jamie’s beautiful eyes were still open, and Lucas let him drop to the soft wet ground, unable to support his weight any longer.

Jamie’s body squelched in the mud, and Lucas fell to his knees and screamed.

 

 

About the Author

 

Emma Deards grew up in New York City and earned her undergraduate degree at Barnard College at Columbia University, where she studied Japanese literature and biology. She was then accepted to The University of Edinburgh, where she completed her veterinary degree. She remained in the UK afterward, and since then has split her time between her day job as a vet and her truest passion: writing. Emma has authored a number humor articles for In Practice, a veterinary magazine, and was the recipient in college of two writing awards: Oscar Lee Award and the Harumatsuri Award. Wild with All Regret is her first book. She lives in Manchester, England.

 

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Comments Off on #NewRelease & Excerpt – Wild With All Regrets by E.L. Deards @EmmaDeards #historical #fiction #LGBTQ
Posted in Cozy, excerpt, Giveaway, Historical, Music, mystery on June 12, 2023

 

 

 

 

 

Death of a Soprano: A Joseph Haydn Mystery
Historical Cozy Mystery
5th in Series
Setting – Eighteenth-century Royal Hungary, Habsburg Empire
Foiled Plots Press (May 27, 2023)
Print length ‏ : ‎ 319 pages

 

Synopsis

 

When murder invades Haydn’s opera stage, scandal isn’t far behind . . .

Charged with ensuring that an imperial wedding transpires without mishap, composer Joseph Haydn has his hands full. Barely seventeen, Archduke Ferdinand Karl, the imperial bridegroom, is reluctant to marry. And the bride, Maria Beatrice, has her reservations as well.

But when an extortion note surfaces—an unpleasant reminder of the bridegroom’s shameful past—the wedding seems truly doomed. Worse still, all the evidence points to Haydn’s prima donna, Lucia Pacelli, being the blackmailer.

Before Haydn can confront her, however, Lucia is fatally poisoned. And Haydn is left to wonder whether his imperial charge had a hand in her death.

Troubled by the dark secrets he might uncover, Haydn is nevertheless compelled to investigate. Will the young Archduke be found innocent? Or must Haydn lead His Imperial Highness to the gallows?

 

 

AmazonNookAppleKobo * Author’s Website

 

 

Excerpt

 

With his prima donna, a possible blackmailer, dead, Haydn’s suspicions immediately veer toward Archduke Ferdinand. But there are other people who wanted to rid the world of Lucia as well.

Luigi was in the midst of playing an extended cadenza when Haydn returned to the orchestra pit. The Konzertmeister must have seen him out of the corner of his eyes, for he immediately turned to face Haydn, his eyebrows raised expectantly.

Anxious to share the awful news, Haydn approached him just as Luigi gracefully transitioned from the cadenza to the sinfonia that would open the next act.

Bending down, he quickly conveyed the news.

“Dead!” Luigi hissed, gripping his bow tightly. “How can that be? A young woman, untroubled by any serious maladies?”

Haydn shrugged, expressing his own doubts on the subject.

“Worse still, Narcissa insisted on being given her part, adamant that Lucia had brought her predicament upon herself.”

Luigi’s lips pursed, but he fortunately stopped himself mid-whistle. “You don’t think she had . . .?” His voice trailed off as his hazel eyes searched Haydn’s features.

“I know not what to think,” Haydn responded grimly.

Although suspecting Narcissa of having a hand in Lucia’s unfortunate demise was far preferable to entertaining suspicions of the only other culprit that came to mind.

He returned to his place, his gaze traveling toward the audience where the Archduke sat next to his bride.

 

 

 

About the Author

 

A former journalist, Nupur Tustin relies upon a Ph.D. in Communication and an M.A. in English to orchestrate fictional mayhem.  The Haydn mysteries are a result of her life-long passion for classical music and its history. Childhood piano lessons and a 1903 Weber Upright share equal blame for her original compositions, available on ntustin.musicaneo.com.

 

 

3 Free Stories* Website* Blog

 

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Giveaway

 

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Posted in excerpt, fiction, Giveaway on June 9, 2023

 

 

Synopsis

 

The bridge at Sagamore was closed when we got there that summer of 1956. We had to cross the canal at Buzzards Bay over the only other roadway that tethered Cape Cod to the mainland.

Thus twelve-year-old Lily Grainger, while safe from ‘communists and the Pope,’ finds her family suddenly adrift. That was the summer the Andrea Doria sank, pilot whales stranded, and Lily’s father built a house he couldn’t afford. Target practice on a nearby decommissioned Liberty Ship echoed not only the rancor in her parents’ marriage, a rancor stoked by Lily’s competitive uncle, but also Lily’s troubles with her sister, her cousins, and especially with her mother. In her increasingly desperate efforts to salvage her parents’ marriage, Lily discovers betrayals beyond her understanding as well as the small ways in which people try to rescue each other. She draws on her music lessons and her love of Cape Cod—from Sagamore and Monomoy to Nauset Spit and the Wellfleet Dunes, seeking safe passage from the limited world of her salt marsh to the larger, open ocean.

 

 

Amazon

 

 

Praise

 

“What happens when a writer plays cello in a professional orchestra for her entire career? Her prose soars. In Water Music, Marcia Peck traces one intricate, intimate melody through the symphonic complexity of a disintegrating family’s summer on Cape Cod. Music and love are interchangeable. Here is a book worthy of reading aloud—and cherishing.” —Elizabeth Jarrett Andrew, author of Swinging on the Garden Gate

 

“Peck has written a moving and melodic triumph of imagination and story, a fine harmony of intimacies and passions.” —Nicole Helget, author of The Summer of Ordinary Ways, The Turtle Catcher, Stillwater

 

 

 

Excerpt

 

Prologue

 

There was no bridge at Sagamore the summer of 1956. We had to cross the canal at Buzzards Bay over the one slender, arched roadway that tethered Cape Cod to the mainland. That was the summer the cello proved to be my steadiest companion, although I would have had it otherwise. My mother had to make do without a piano of her own, which did not augur well: music had always been her refuge. And my father was dead set on building a cottage—built the right way, which was to say, better than Uncle George’s—when we couldn’t afford it. We thought we spotted the Andrea Doria moments before it sank. And I discovered the small ways in which people try to rescue each other.

Our property fronted a salt pond whose fertile waters hatched clams the size of a toenail, infant eels no bigger than a bobby pin, and young crabs so fragile you could crush them between two fingers. When they matured, they found their way to the creek, an outlet booby-trapped with rocks from an old abandoned mill, and followed it out to Pleasant Bay, that vast shallow body of water which, like a long adolescence, spanned the distance between our pond and the full-fledged, fathomless ocean.

Tides filled and emptied our small world and I tried to figure out who belonged to whom.  I longed to belong to my mother. But I learned that summer that she was like a teacup, spilled out and upside down on the saucer, and she couldn’t right herself. She thought she was mad at my father; she didn’t recognize that fiercer winds than his tore at her. All summer the storm gathered and gathered, took its breath from every direction we thought we knew, and lashed us into spindrift.

And all the while, surrounding us, holding us up like the sea we floated on, was the music.

 

 

About the Author

 

Marcia Peck’s writing has received a variety of awards, including New Millenium Writings (First prize for “Memento Mori”) and Lake Superior Writers’ Conference (First Prize for “Pride and Humility”). Her articles have appeared in Musical America, Strad Magazine, Strings Magazine, Senza Sordino, and the op-ed pages of the Minneapolis StarTribune.  Marcia’s fiction has appeared in Chautauqua Journal, New Millenium Writings, Gemini Magazine, and Glimmer Train, among others.

Growing up in New Jersey with parents who were both musicians, Marcia set out to be the best cellist she could be. She spent two years studying in Germany in the Master Class of the renowned Italian cellist, Antonio Janigro. Since then she has spent her musical career with the Minnesota Orchestra, where she met and married the handsome fourth horn player.

Marcia has always been a cat person. But she has learned to love dogs—even the naughty ones, maybe especially the naughty ones.

 

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Giveaway

 

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Posted in Book Release, excerpt, Historical, romance on June 8, 2023

 

 

Synopsis

 

Will a dire family secret lead to Fitzwilliam Darcy’s ruin?

Darcy’s heartfelt conversation with Miss Elizabeth Bennet leads to their engagement. But just when his future could not appear brighter, a dreadful revelation casts a cloud of gloom over him, threatening his hopes and plans.

And when an ominous shadow of suspicion falls upon his beloved sister, Georgiana, Darcy is compelled to determine the truth. Does her angelic countenance conceal a deviant, even dangerous, nature?

In this Pride and Prejudice variation, Darcy and Elizabeth face several grim obstacles, including the sudden death of a family member. Will these challenges drive them apart?

 

The Darcy Secret contains adult situations with themes of violence and a graphic description of a fox hunt.

 

 

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Excerpt

 

I pointed to a narrow path veering off from the main one. “Do you mind if we turn there?”

“No, though that track extends for a mile at most.”

“That is acceptable.” Once assured of our privacy, I situated Elizabeth upon a fallen log, knelt before her upon one knee, and took her hands. The allure of her amber-flecked irises halted me mid-breath, but I pushed forwards. “My bright and beautiful Elizabeth, you are the only lady I could ever marry. My heart is yours, and I cannot conceive of a future without you. Will you do me the honour of agreeing to be my wife?”

Moisture glistened within her fine eyes. “I thank you for your offer, and I am happy to accept it.”

With my pulse surging, I stood and helped her to her feet. I removed my handkerchief and dabbed at the tears staining her cheeks. Mere inches separated us, and she had never tempted me more. “May I kiss you?”

Elizabeth peeked at me through her eyelashes. “Yes.” She stretched a bit taller, and in doing so, claimed a bigger piece of my heart.

I held her shoulders and met her full lips in an ethereal touch. She rested her hands upon my chest. Before I could lose myself in her enticing softness, I pulled away to peruse her sweet smile. Her eyes remained closed. Our second kiss lasted quite a while longer. She moaned, inflaming me, yet I managed to wrest myself away. Her eyelids fluttered open, and her slightly swollen lips curved up. I sighed. “My love for you continues to soar to new heights. I do not believe it can be contained.”

“I never dreamt mere kisses could be so…powerful.” Her weight shifted from one foot to the other. “My legs feel odd—rather like jelly.”

I gripped her upper arms. “You should sit down again.”

She shook her head. “Let us walk instead. If I feel the need, I shall lean upon you.”

“I am at your service.” I wrapped her arm round mine, and we set off.

“My lips still tingle.” Elizabeth ran a forefinger over her pink flesh. “Do yours as well?”

“Yes.”

“I am glad.”

I pulled my gaze from her alluring smile lest the temptation to capture her mouth again prove too strong.

The remainder of my time with her passed in a fuddled state. On several occasions, I fought the niggling concern that I had been caught inside a blissful daydream disguised as reality.

Later, on the ride home with Bingley, one realisation hampered my elation: Elizabeth had never said she loved me.

The more I pondered the issue, the stronger my yearning became to hear those words from her. But in time I adopted a more reasoned perspective. While my love for Elizabeth had taken root within me so long ago that my life before meeting her seemed distant and insignificant, her affection for me had developed more recently. No doubt she could not yet identify the sentiment as love. But she would love me—she must.

 

 

About the Author

 

Award-Winning Author Kelly Miller is a native Californian and Anglophile who made her first visit to England in 2019. When not pondering a plot point or a turn of phrase, she can be found playing the piano, singing, and walking her dogs. Her books have won first place honors from: Chanticleer International Book Awards, Royal Dragonfly Book Awards, Indies Today Book Awards, and Incipere Book Awards to name a few.

 

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Posted in 3 1/2 paws, excerpt, fiction, Review, romance on May 29, 2023

 

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

After two heartbreaking losses, Luna wants adventure. Something and somewhere very different from the affluent, sheltered home in California and Hawaii where she grew up. An adventure in which she can also make some difference. She ends up in a place steeped in an ancient culture and a deadly history.

Raised by her grandmother in a Honolulu suburb, she moves to her parent’s home in California at thirteen and meets her brothers for the first time. Grandma persuades her to write a journal whenever she’s lonely or overwhelmed as a substitute for someone to whom she could reveal her intimate thoughts.

Lucien, a worldly, well-traveled young architect, finds a stranger’s journal at a café. He has qualms and pangs of guilt about reading it. But they don’t stop him. His decision to go on reading changes his life.

Months later, they meet at a bookstore where Luna works and which Lucien frequents. Fascinated by his stories and his adventurous spirit, Luna volunteers for the Peace Corps. Assigned to Cambodia, she lives with a family whose parents are survivors of the Khmer Rouge genocide forty years earlier. What she goes through in a rural rice-growing village defies anything she could have imagined. Will she leave this world unscathed?

Inspired by the healing effects of writing, this is an epistolary tale of love—between an idealistic young woman and her grandmother and between the young woman and a young architect. It’s a tale of courage, resilience of the human spirit, and the bonds that bring diverse people together.

 

 

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Excerpt

 

Prologue

 

Ov’s thin upper body is slumped over his crossed legs, his forehead resting on the platform. His brown, wiry arms lie limp, the right one extended forward, hand dangling over the edge of the platform. Dried blood is splattered on his head, and on the collar, right shoulder, and back of his old short-sleeved white shirt.

It seems fitting that he died where he used to spend most of his time when he wasn’t on the rice fields—sitting on a corner of the bamboo platform in the ceiling-high open space under the house. It’s where you get refreshing breezes most afternoons, after a long day of work.

The policeman looks down at Ov’s body as if he’s unsure what to do next. He lays down his camera and the gun in a plastic bag at one end of the platform untainted by splatters of gelled blood.

He steps closer to the body, anchors himself with one knee on top of the platform, and bends over the body. Hooking his arms underneath Ov’s shoulders and upper arms, he pulls the body up, and carefully lays it on its back. He straightens the legs.

He steps off the platform. Stands still for a few seconds to catch his breath. He turns to us and says, “It’s clear what has happened. I have all the pictures I need.”

He points to his camera, maybe to make sure we understand. We have watched him in silence, three zombies still in shock. Me, standing across the bamboo platform from him. Mae and Jorani sitting, tense and quiet, on the hammock to my left.

Is that it? Done already? I want to ask him: Will he have the body taken away for an autopsy? I suppose that’s what is routinely done everywhere in cases like this. But I don’t know enough Khmer.

As if he sensed my unspoken question, he glances at me. A quick glance that comes with a frown. He seems perplexed and chooses to ignore me.

He addresses the three of us, like a captain addressing his troop. “You can clean up.”

The lingering frown on his brow softens into sympathy. He’s gazing at Jorani, whose mournful eyes remain downcast. He looks away and turns toward Mae. Pressing his hands together, he bows to her. A deeper one than the first he gave her when she and Jorani arrived.

He utters Khmer words too many and too fast for me to understand. From the furrowed brow and the look in his eyes, I assume they are words of sympathy. He bows a third time, and turns to go back to where he placed the gun and camera. He picks them up and walks away.

For a moment or two, I stare at the figure of the policeman walking away. Then I turn to Jorani. Call him back. Don’t we have questions? I can ask and you can translate, if you prefer. But seeing her and Mae sitting as still and silent as rocks, hands on their laps, and eyes glazed as if to block out what’s in front of them, the words get trapped in my brain. Their bodies, rigid just moments before, have gone slack, as if to say: What else can anyone do? What’s done cannot be undone. All that’s left is to clean up, as the policeman said. Get on with our lives.

My gaze wanders again toward the receding figure of the policeman on the dirt road, the plastic bag with the gun dangling in his right hand. Does it really matter how Cambodian police handles Ov’s suicide? I witnessed it. I know the facts. And didn’t I read a while back how Buddhism frowns upon violations on the human body? The family might object against cutting up Ov—the way I’ve seen on TV crime shows—just to declare with certainty what caused his death.

I take in a long breath. I have done all I can and must defer to Cambodian beliefs and customs.

But I can’t let it go yet. Ov chose to end his life in a violent way and I’m curious: Do the agonies of his last moments show on his face? I steal another look.

All I could gather, from where I stand, is life has definitely gone out of every part of him. His eyes are closed and immobile. The tic on his inanimate cheeks hasn’t left a trace. The tic that many times was the only way I could tell he had feelings. Feelings he tried to control or hide. Now, his face is just an expressionless brown mask. Maybe everyone really has a spirit, a soul that rises out of the body when one dies, leaving a man-size mass of clay.

I stare at Ov’s body, lying in a darkened, dried pool of his own blood, bits of his skull and brain scattered next to his feet where his head had been. At that moment, it hits me that this would be the image of Ov I will always remember. I shudder.

My legs begin to buckle underneath me and I turn around, regretting that last look. With outstretched hands, I take a step toward the hammock. Jorani rises to grab my hands, and she helps me sit down next to Mae.

Could I ever forget? Could Mae and Jorani? Would the image of Ov in a pool of blood linger in their memories like it would in mine?

I know I could never tell my parents what happened here this afternoon. But could I tell Lucien? The terrible shock of watching someone, in whose home I found a family, fire a gun to his head? And the almost as horrifying realization—looking back—that I knew what he was going to do, but I hesitated for a few seconds to stop him.

 

 

Review

 

I’m not sure what genre to place this book in. Part of it is a romance, part family, and part is a young woman’s journey to find herself.

The book starts with a flash of the future, and from this prologue, it seems like it will be more like a suspense novel. That is not the case since Luna’s character doesn’t end up in Cambodia until very close to the end. However, it does set up an intriguing scenario that is fully revealed later.

Luna has struggled for most of her life. She grew up with her grandmother for many years, which forged a close relationship between the two. I loved how they were like two peas in a pod and seemed to understand each other better than the grandmother’s daughters. I loved the mango tree in the backyard and how it was the grandmother’s refuge. There is a lot of symbolism that could be derived from those thoughts.

Lucien had his issues as a younger man, but when he stumbles across Luna’s journal in the coffee shop, it opens up a new world for him. It isn’t that she had exotic travels or adventures, but the heartfelt words she shared touched him. He felt like he knew her before he ever met her. I enjoyed watching their friendship unfold. It takes courage to create a journal that details your life and share it with someone you have just met.

This novel is about finding yourself in this crazy world. Many struggle with discovering their place in this world, but sometimes it is easier with someone by your side walking the same path with you. I felt immersed in their lives as I read the journal entries and had a better grasp of who Luna and Lucien were as people. Everyone has their own journey and story to tell. It is all about finding the right person to share it with.

We give this book 3 1/2 paws up.

 

 

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Evy Journey writes. Stories and blog posts. Novels that tend to cross genres. She’s also a wannabe artist and a flâneuse.

Evy studied psychology (M.A., University of Hawaii; Ph.D., University of Illinois). So her fiction spins tales about nuanced characters dealing with contemporary life issues and problems. She believes in love and its many faces.

Her one ungranted wish: To live in Paris where art is everywhere, and people have honed aimless roaming to an art form. She has visited and stayed a few months at a time.

 

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Posted in Book Release, excerpt, romance on May 25, 2023

 

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

Why would anyone want perfection when they could have Vaani Jaishankar instead?

Aditya Khamankar was a chartered accountant who built his life on a bedrock of numbers. For no matter what happened, numbers and math never let you down. They stayed the same. And that fundamental fact defined many of his choices. He was the obedient son, the diligent student, the overachieving employee, the reliable friend. All he wanted in his life was routine and sensible discourse. All he craved in that same life was peace and quiet. And then his senior partner’s flighty daughter came home. And life as he knew it was never the same again…

Reality television villain and tabloid fodder, Vaani Jaishankar lived for the arclights. The notoriety, the glamour, the larger than life noise that came with it held her in thrall. Until the industry she loved and the people she trusted used and abandoned her. And now, she was back home. Darkening the doorstep of her childhood home, something she’d sworn she’d never do and working in her father’s accountancy firm…Could God just take her now already? And then there was her father’s business partner…

What happens when Perfection meets Flawed? Do the cracks beneath his façade show? Or is it as well hidden as the foundation of grit and ambition her shiny polish conceals?

When attraction wars with common sense and love burns a fiery rope that ties them together, Aditya and Vaani need to decide if this is enough…If they are enough for each other? For the world doesn’t believe they are and the world isn’t done with them yet…

 

 

 

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Excerpt

 

The bloody suitcase’s gimpy wheel broke off and the whole thing listed to one side. With a tiny scream of frustration, Vaani righted the now muddy suitcase and straightened. She took a deep breath as she stared at the house in front of her.

Her childhood home. The home she’d grown up in, the one where she’d learned to walk, to talk, to do pretty much everything including curling her eyelashes. It looked the same, exactly the same. A bougainvillea plant bloomed along the circumference of the compound wall, the pop of colour painfully bright in her current mood of gloom and doom.

The roof tiles seemed to have been recently replaced, she thought absently as her gaze took in the brick red tiles that gave a cottagey kind of look to the otherwise cream coloured bungalow.

She stood there, her useless suitcase by her side and stared at her past. Memories of banging doors and screaming ‘I’ll never set foot in this house again’ rose up in front of her practically taking on corporeal form.

“I hate you all,” she whispered the words she’d screamed years before. It was the last thing she’d shouted at her family before she’d stormed out of the house, dragging this same suitcase with her. She’d been so sure, so confident, so stupid…

A loud car horn had her startling and her suitcase fell over again. The lid flew open from impact and the overstuffed suitcase disgorged its contents. Vaani stared in dismay as her clothes littered the driveway of her parents otherwise neat-as-a-pin compound.

It was only as her gaze tracked her hot pink bra did she realise that it was draped over a perfectly polished black shoe. The car honking at her! Oh no, her bra was dangling off her father or brother’s shoe. Kill her now. A strike of lightning maybe? But nope, the clear blue skies meant that wasn’t an option.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she looked up at the man standing in front of her. Not her father or brother. Her heart soared in relief at the realisation before sinking like a stone at the sight of his forbidding expression. Angry glower, clenched jaw, nasty scar, and dramatic frown. Yes, whoever this was, he wasn’t impressed by Vaani. All six feet plus of taut muscles and frozen disapproval. Which was a new experience for her. Vaani usually had men falling at her feet in a haze of lust, not tapping an angry foot draped in a hot pink bra at her.

“Who the hell are you and what do you think you are doing here?” the man bit out.

“Who the hell are you?” Vaani tossed back, genuinely bewildered. Had her parents sold the house or something? Even if they had, Rahul Anna would have told her. He was the only family member who still kept in touch with her. Despite being in the Navy and off on a ship most of the time. Which said a lot for her estrangement from the rest of her family.

But that wasn’t a problem for now. Her problem for now looked to be the mountain of muscles who didn’t seem to realise he was wearing her bra on his foot.

“Aditya Khamankar,” he said grimly like that was supposed to mean something to her.

“Okay then Mr. Khamankar,” Vaani replied crouching and grabbing an armful of distressed jeans. “Don’t just stand there. Help me clear up the mess you made.”

“I made??”

“Yes, you!” She stuffed clothes back in her suitcase haphazardly. She would figure out how to fit everything later. “You honked at me and broke my suitcase.”

“I honked at you because you were standing in the middle of the driveway and staring into space. But how exactly do you manage to blame me for your suitcase disaster?”

She noticed he hadn’t moved an inch as she scrambled around on the ground collecting her fashion debris.

“May I have my bra please?” she asked politely, pointing at his shoe and hoping to shame him into being a gentleman.

He glanced down at his shoe, one eyebrow slowly rising at the sight of her bra still elegantly draped over its tip.

“Stop gaping and give it to me,” she ordered, losing patience with the whole drama. She had to still deal with family drama once she entered the house. She wasn’t interested in driveway drama with random strangers.

“You look familiar,” he said slowly, as he removed the bra from his shoe and held it out to her.

Oh God. Here they went again. Honestly, Vaani was so tired of the fans and their constant requests for selfies and autographs.

“Look, now is not the time, okay?” She made a vague shooing motion with her hand. “I’ll pose for a selfie some other day. Right now, I am here for quality time with my family and don’t want to be disturbed.”

Now, both his eyebrows shot up. She reached for the bra, but he tightened his grip on it and she found herself engaged in a weird tug of war with Muscle Man for her own underwear.

“You’re Shravan Uncle’s daughter.”

Yuck. He knew her father. If that didn’t put him on her shitlist, she didn’t know what would. She pulled at her bra again, but, again, he didn’t let go. He just kept staring at her with that frown on his stupid face.

Okay. It wasn’t a stupid face. It was actually a nice face. All manly and craggy and, she was pretty certain, it was a hundred percent natural. She was sure this man had never injected his face with anything or had any other work done on it. If he had, he would have first fixed that nasty scar on the right side of his face. It extended from his temple to halfway down his cheek, jagged and slightly raised.

She wondered how he’d got it. Maybe he’d held someone else’s lingerie hostage and she’d been attached enough to it to attack him with a knife. Vaani didn’t care quite that much about hers. But, it was the principle of the thing. It was her bra after all.

“Look.” She flashed her trademark pouty smile. “I realise keeping a celebrity’s personal stuff as a souvenir is a thing and I’m sure you’d love to keep this bra for, you know, private bedroom stuff, but-“

He dropped it like it had turned into a live flame in his hand. And then, to add insult to injury, he rubbed his hand on his pant like he was trying to rid himself of the feel of her bra.

Annoyed, Vaani opened her mouth to say something biting and sarcastic, she didn’t know what, but she knew she would think of something good. And then she heard his voice.

“Vaani?”

Of course, he would be the one to find her like this.

Two years ago, when he’d told her she brought nothing but shame and embarrassment to the family and the family name, she’d stormed out of the house vowing to never return until she proved him wrong.

And here she was, standing in his driveway, with a broken suitcase, nothing to her name but the clothes stuffed into it, and a pink bra in her hand in lieu of the white flag of surrender she should actually be waving.

She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and turned to face the man who’d sired her and deserted her.

“Hi Appa. I’m home.”

 

About the Author

 

A published author with Harlequin India – Mills & Boon India Collection and Juggernaut, Shilpa Suraj’s books have hit both the Hot New Releases and Bestseller lists on Amazon. Her next novel, tentatively titled ‘Wrong,’ has been contracted by Rupa Publications and will release later this year. She is also part of the Flipped Anthology by Harper Collins and had an audiobook book Insta Reddy release with Storytel.

She is, amongst other things, currently working on ‘Frazzled and Fabulous,’ a humorous, true-to-life parenting story that is part memoir and part nonfiction.

An avid reader with a passion for creative writing and storytelling saw her participating in writing competitions at school and dabbling in copy writing for an ad agency as a teenager. Twenty years in the corporate space, including a stint in Corporate Communications for Google, India, and a spell at entrepreneurship all hold her in good stead for her multiple current roles of author, mother and Head of Human Resources & Public Relations at an architecture and interior design firm.

 

 

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