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.

 

 

 

Amazon

 

 

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

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

A determined young woman in 1950s Los Angeles walks a darker city than she ever imagined in a spellbinding novel about the power to make dreams come true―whatever the sacrifice.

Los Angeles brims with opportunity in 1959―though not for aspiring fashion designer Cordelia Mai Yin, the first-generation child of Vietnamese immigrants, who finds the city unkind to outsiders and as dispirited as her own family. When Cordi rents a cheap loft in an old apartment building, she quickly warms to kindred souls Tessa, Audrey, and Silly. They also want better things and have pasts they’d rather forget. That they all share the same middle name makes their friendship seem like destiny.

As supportive as they are of each other, it’s a struggle just to eke out a living, let alone hope to see their wishes for success come true. Until an ever-present and uncannily charming acquaintance of the landlord’s offers a solution to their problems. He promises to fulfill their every dream. All it takes is a little magic. And a small sacrifice.

As one surprisingly effective spell leads to another, their wishes get bigger. But so does the price they must pay. Amid the damaged seams of her life so far, Cordi must realize her own power in order to rip free, without losing everything she’s worked so hard to achieve.

 

 

 

 

Amazon * B&N * Bookshop

 

 

Praise

 

“A clever, dark fairy tale about sisterhood and sacrifice and the price of finally going after what you want. Cordi is a heroine to root for: she makes mistakes, of course she does, but you would do the same. And once you read it you will never settle for a dress without pockets again. I loved it!” –Yume Kitasei, author of The Stardust Grail

A beguiling story of love and friendship that turns every trope on its head. THE MONSTROUS MISSES MAI leads you through a world of glamour and fame, then pulls you beneath its surface and tangles you in the sinister workings of a city fueled by impossible dreams.” –Kylee Lee Baker, author of The Scarlet Alchemist

 

 

Review

 

What would you sacrifice for success? That is the question that the women in this novel must answer before it is too late.

This story is about friendship, desire, and ambition. The four women who end up sharing an apartment together don’t realize the depths of the situation they find themselves until it is too late. When they say you shouldn’t mess with witchcraft, they aren’t kidding!

Cordi, Tessa, Silly, and Audrey are these four women. They each have dreams for their future, and when they are offered the opportunity to get it with little work, they jump at the chance. This wasn’t the wisest move they could make, and they soon learn that there is a price to pay for success if you don’t work for it.

Beyond that, this book explores the friendship between women who may have never met had it not been for this apartment that they share. While this book is set in 1959, it is reflective of nearly any period in time. Family expectations are the same now as they were then. Perhaps a little different, but still somewhat the same.

Because these women are young (20’s), they still lack some maturity when it comes to actions. Cordi is jealous of Silly’s friendship with Tessa. It is like Cordi wants to be Tessa’s only friend. They seem to shun Audrey because she is a little different, and also doesn’t want to be mixed up in the witchcraft. She is probably the smartest one of the bunch. Tessa is all about being seen with the movers and shakers of the city. Little does she realize what that might really mean!

I was engrossed in this novel. Normally, this isn’t the type of book I read (magical realism, witchcraft, etc), but there was something about this story that engaged me and kept me glued to the pages. I had a love/hate relationship with all the characters, but they each added a dimension to the story. Whether it was their involvement with the magical aspect, greed, desire, or hope, each character played a part in the final conclusion.

We give this book 5 paws up and recommend it if you enjoy this genre.

 

 

 

 

 

Excerpt

 

Chapter Eight

 

“Relax. I’m not here as some spy.” He chuckled. “Don’t forget who convinced Mikhail to rent to you in the first place—and at a cheaper price too! Please, enjoy your night.” He held up his hands. “Or should I leave?”

“Nonsense.” Tessa reached out, placing her fingers on his forearm. “They’re good girls. They just haven’t learned how to break the rules yet,” she whispered loudly, then winked across the table at Cordi.

Like usual, Cordi had no idea how to navigate the conversational maze. She kept eating, hoping that the food would instill in her some magical talent to help her play along.

“And I suppose you know how to break the rules,” Callum said to Tessa, his voice low.

“Do you two want us to leave the room?” Audrey asked in her flat voice.

Tessa took her hand back and resumed eating. “Nope, I do so love an audience.”

Audrey let out a loud exhale.

“I applied for a job at a fabric store today,” Cordi told Callum, still feeling the need to explain herself. “I have a good feeling about it.”

“Sounds dreadfully boring,” he mused, but he said everything with a casual, cheerful tone, so Cordi wasn’t sure if he really meant it or if it was just the way rich people prattled. Callum struck her as rich—the cut of his suit, the expensive tailoring as well as the silk of his tie, indicating that he could afford to dress well.

“I think I would enjoy it,” she said. “I know I will. I love that kind of stuff. Clothes and . . . you know . . . clothes.”

Tessa smiled at her. “You should be a fashion designer.”

“That’s impossible,” Cordi said, though it was exactly what she wanted, a dream she hardly dared to admit to herself. It was just a fantasy, not something attainable, and she waited for several long seconds for Callum to laugh in her face.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve wondered to myself if you were a designer,” he said. “You’re always wearing the most unique threads whenever I see you.”

“I like . . . pockets,” Cordi said for some reason even she couldn’t fathom. Perhaps it was the wine. She drank some more just to be safe. “Not all the dresses in stores have them, so I sew them myself.”

“Pockets are rather useful.”

“But no one’s ever heard of an Asian designer before,” Cordi said. She regretted it, because the statement was rather sad, and there was really no way to respond to it, so she didn’t blame any of them when the heavy words drooped in the air, abandoned and unclaimed.

Callum grinned at her. He had one dimple on his left cheek, and Cordi found it impossible not to smile back like a lovesick idiot. “I bet we can make that happen,” he said. “Have you given any thought to what I proposed last time?”

Cordi met Tessa’s eyes.

“About magic?” Tessa asked.

“Yes.” He leaned in close. So did the others. “After all, I am a witch.”

Cordi giggled. She was starting to feel a bit light-headed, the room taking on a blurry effect, the lights fuzzy around the edges, and when she met Tessa’s eyes across the table, the other girl mouthed, I knew it. Cordi took another sip from her glass, surprised to find it almost empty.

“Men can’t be witches,” she said, cocking her head to one side. The room spun a bit, and when she blinked, she had the sensation that she’d skipped forward in time by a few seconds, and that everyone was staring at her, wondering where she’d just been.

“How do you know? Have you met many witches?” Callum asked.

“No, but . . .” Cordi reached out, her index finger landing on the tip of his nose. “You don’t have a wart.”

Callum laughed and wrapped his fist around her finger. “Lurasts aren’t typical witches, and besides, warts on witches are just a myth. Most witches can only do small magic, like a little love potion that doesn’t last.”

“Witches are a myth.” Her tongue felt thick and heavy, and it took more effort to enunciate her words. “They’re not real. Neither are lurasts.”

“Oh, but I am real.” His wide grin made those crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes. “How do you think I’m this handsome? You should see when a spell goes wrong.”

He still had hold of her finger, and she pulled it back, her skin sliding along his.

“Lura is real,” Audrey surprised them all by saying. “Lura is a type of witchcraft. My aunt used to tell me stories. But it’s dangerous—we shouldn’t be playing around with that stuff.”

“Nonsense,” Callum said. “I’m a professional.”

“So what, are you going to make our wishes come true?” Audrey asked.

“It depends on what you want.”

“At what cost?” Audrey asked.

Callum laughed. “Why is it always about money with you girls?”

“Maybe because we don’t have any,” Audrey said coldly.

“It’s true, Callum, we’re flat broke,” Tessa said.

Callum grinned at her. “But isn’t your dad that rich politician? I just assumed he paid the bills.”

“Not our bills,” Audrey mumbled.

Tessa crossed her arms. “If you’re going to be granting wishes, you should know it’s gotta be for free.”

“Nothing good comes for free,” Audrey announced in a voice so full of doom, they all turned and stared at her. “What? It’s true.”

“On the contrary,” Callum said, “all the best things in life are free.”

Tessa snorted.

“You don’t believe me?” Callum stood up. “All right, it’s time to show you ladies that I mean business. Come on. We need”—he looked around the apartment—“candles. A bowl. Some of your most sentimental items.”

Cordi finished the last of her sandwich, wishing she had more.

“Come on, chop-chop.” Callum clapped twice, and despite herself, she got up from the table. The others did as well, looking mildly amused. Callum rubbed his hands together. “Let’s make some magic.”

 

 

About the Author

 

Van Hoang’s first name is pronounced like the van in minivan. Her last name is pronounced “hah-wawng.” A Publishers Weekly “Flying Start” featured author, Hoang is the author of Girl Giant and the Monkey King, Girl Giant and the Jade War, and the forthcoming Hidden Tails for middle-grade readers. Her adult debut novel, The Monstrous Misses Mai, will be published in the spring of 2024. She earned her bachelor’s in English at the University of New Mexico and her master’s in library information science at San Jose State University. She was born in Vietnam, grew up in Orange County, California, and now resides in Los Angeles with her husband, kid, and dog. When she is not writing, she spends her days force-feeding books to small children (and adults!) at the library. She loves boba.

 

Website * Instagram * Pinterest

 

 

Synopsis

 

A supernatural journal. Two kids in over their heads. Can they lead a new Chicago police officer to success in the dangerous south side of the city?

Danielle and Noah’s curiosity gets the best of them when they find another magical diary about an officer’s second year in the country’s second-largest police force. While Dani comes to grips with being a minority female in a male-dominated profession, Noah joins the story as a phantom with unique magical abilities. They soon discover that their past trips have caused unforeseen historical consequences, including introducing an evil phantom with lethal powers.

They must now figure out how to return to the part of the story they interfered with, hoping to fix their mistakes. The kids seek help from the strange bookstore owner, but the spellbound solutions are risky and untested.

Can Noah master his newfound phantom powers to save the townspeople stuck in the books?

 

The Phantom Enforcer is the action-filled second book in the First Responder fantasy series. If you like adventurous kids, clever humor, and pages jam-packed with suspense, then you’ll love J.W. Jarvis’s blending of reality and enchantment.

3% of all book sales go to First Responders Children’s Foundation, which provides financial support to children who have lost a parent in the line of duty.

 

 

Amazon

 

Read for Free via Kindle Unlimited

 

 

Excerpt

 

After taking the bus home from school, they grabbed their bikes and headed downtown. Even in late December, while the air was crisp and cool, a light jacket was all that was needed. They settled on a wooden bench in the beach park with a great ocean view. The bluff was about 25 feet above the waves.

“When was the last time you talked to your mom?” inquired Dani.

“Couple nights ago, why?”

“Does she still want you to move to Arizona to live with her?”

“I don’t know, she is buying a new, bigger house and asked me what color I want my room painted. I just don’t see the point of reserving a room for me when I might visit …”

Noah froze, and he could feel bumps rise on the sun-drenched skin of his arms. Dani’s eyes opened wide.

“Are you having a stroke, Noah? You’re a bit young for that.”

“Don’t turn around. I think we’re being watched.”

“Huh … where?” Dani started to turn her head.

“What did I just say? Sheesh! I think I see Mrs. Heks behind a tree at the corner of the park.”

“You’re obsessed with this woman. Are you sure? She doesn’t seem like the type to go sunbathing.”

“Okay … here’s what we’re gonna to do. Take our trash and head toward the garbage can behind your left shoulder. It’s pretty close to the tree that she’s hiding behind.”
Dani immediately got up and quickly scooped up the snack bags and bottles. “Be ready to call 911; she might kidnap me,” she said sarcastically.

Dani moved nonchalantly toward the trash receptacles. Noah pretended to study and then glanced over the cliff on the left at the crashing waves below. Despite having his head turned, he strained his eyeballs to look right and keep Dani in focus. A hunched figure emerged from the tree 15 feet away as she tossed the items in the proper bins.

“Mrs. Heks, what a surprise seeing you here,” said Dani.

“I thought that was the two of you, but I wasn’t sure; my eyesight is not the best these days.”

“Do you come to the beach often?”

“Only the park, really; I don’t want to break a hip trying to get down that cliff to the sand. I pick up spices and flavors for my stews while I am here.” As she finished her sentence, Dani saw a brown beetle crawl out of her handbag.

“Noah is right over there.” Dani pointed in Noah’s direction, and he instantly tried to drop his shameful spy tactics. “He wanted to visit the bookstore later. Will you be there?”

“Afraid not, Child, I have some cooking to do at home of an unexpected guest. Did the finger treatment work?”

“You mean ‘for an unexpected guest,'” laughed Dani.

Mrs. Heks looked confused, then smiled, “Oh, yes, Child!”

Dani motioned Noah to come over, “Yes, the treatment worked well. That’s why Noah wanted to see you.”

Noah waved at the store owner as if it was the first time he saw her that day. He went to grab the book out of his backpack but hesitated. He didn’t have gloves on and quickly wondered if touching the book that punctured his friend’s finger was a good idea. Even if the book did prick him, he wasn’t reading it, so he was safe, right? He realized he was taking too long and just grabbed his whole backpack as he approached them.

His mouth felt dry as he spoke, “Afternoon, ma’am, how are you?” He never seemed comfortable around her, no matter how often they interacted.

“Your dear friend here said you had some questions. Perhaps it’s about the book in your bag there?”

“How did you know we have it?” asked Noah.

“My books are like my children. I always feel connected to them.” Noah stared down as he tried to process that response.

 

 

 

About the Author

 

J.W. Jarvis lives in sunny California but is originally from the suburbs of the Windy City. When he’s not thinking of ways to create inspiring characters for young minds, you can find him reading, golfing, traveling, or just sipping a hot vanilla latte.

 

Website * Instagram * X/Twitter * Facebook

 

 

Synopsis

 

A shocking murder leaves an affluent retirement community reeling in this riveting, high-stakes second installment of the San Diego Case Files, from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Karen Rose.

Death is not an unfamiliar visitor to Shady Oaks Retirement Village, which provides San Diego with premier elderly support from independent retiree housing to full-time hospice care. But when a resident’s body is found brutally stabbed and his apartment ransacked, it’s clear there’s someone deadly in their community. Detective Katherine “Kit” McKittrick quickly discovers that Shady Oaks is full of skeleton-riddled closets, and most tenants prefer to keep their doors firmly closed to the SDPD.

A longtime volunteer at the retirement facility, Dr. Sam Reeves honors his late grandfather’s memory by playing the piano for the residents regularly. So it shouldn’t be such a surprise when Kit crosses paths with him during her investigation, after she’d avoided the criminal psychologist—and the emotions he evokes—for the last six months.

Sam’s rapport within the retirement village proves vital to the case, and the pair find themselves working together once again—much to Kit’s dismay. But she is determined to apprehend the shadow of death lurking around Shady Oaks…and equally determined to ignore the feelings she’s developing for a certain psychologist.

 

 

 

Amazon * B&N * Kobo * Bookshop

 

 

Excerpt

 

 

Chapter One

Shady Oaks Retirement Village
Scripps Ranch, San Diego, California
Monday, November 7, 11:20 a.m.

 

 

Kit McKittrick allowed herself a moment to feel pity as she stood over the body of the elderly man lying dead on his apartment floor in the Shady Oaks Retirement Village. Then she squared her shoulders and proceeded to do her job.

The mood in the dead man’s living room was subdued. The ME was examining the body while CSU took photos and Latent dusted for prints, but there was little of the normal scene-of-the-crime chatter to which Kit had become accustomed in the four and a half years she’d been in Homicide.

Everyone spoke in hushed whispers, like they were in church. Because it kind of felt like they were. Haunting melancholy music from a single piano was coming from the speaker mounted on the victim’s living room wall. The music wasn’t loud, but it was overwhelming nonetheless. Kit wanted to turn it off, because the music was so sad that it made her chest hurt and her eyes burn.

But neither the speaker nor its volume controls had been dusted for prints, so she couldn’t touch it yet. Until then, she could only square her shoulders, ignore the music, and focus on getting justice for Mr. Franklin Delano Flynn.

The cause of death of the eighty-five-year-old white male was most likely the butcher knife still embedded in his chest. But she’d learned long ago not to assume. Still, a butcher knife to the chest was never good. It was a long wound, the gash in the man’s white button-up shirt extending from his sternum to his navel. Whoever had killed him had to have had a lot of strength to create such a wound.

The victim had been dead long enough for his blood to dry, both the blood that had soaked the front of his shirt and the blood that had pooled on the floor around his torso.

His eyes, filmy in death, stared sightlessly up at the ceiling. His arms lay at his sides, his hands slightly curved. Not quite flat, but not quite fists, either. It wasn’t a natural pose for the victim of a homicide who’d fallen after being stabbed. She wondered if his killer had repositioned his arms.

Mr. Flynn had been a hardy man, broad-shouldered, tall, and still muscular. Not in bad shape for eighty-five, she thought. He wore dark trousers, the pockets turned out, as if he’d been searched.

His shoes were black oxfords, buffed to such a shine that she could nearly see her own reflection. She wondered if he’d come home, surprising his attacker, or if he’d welcomed his killer into his home.

His living room had been ransacked, books knocked off shelves, knickknacks strewn on the floor. The sofa cushions had been slashed open, foam stuffing on the floor as well. The man’s bedroom was in a similar state. The drawers in the kitchen had been opened and emptied, their contents dumped on the counters. Flour and sugar containers had been dumped on the kitchen’s tiled floor. Someone had been looking for something and had left a terrible mess.

Kit wondered if they’d found what they’d been looking for. She wondered if Mr. Flynn had fought back.

Kit crouched on the victim’s right side, leaning in so that she could better examine his hands. The knuckles of his right hand were scraped and bruised, but his fingernails were what caught her attention. They were mostly gone, clipped way past the quick, down into the nail bed.

That he’d fought back was a decent assumption, then. His killer hadn’t wanted any evidence to be found under the man’s nails.

 

Excerpted from Cheater by Karen Rose Copyright © 2024 by Karen Rose. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved.

 

 

About the Author

 

Karen Rose is the award-winning, #1 international bestselling author of more than 25 novels, including the bestselling Baltimore and Cincinnati series. She has been translated into twenty-three languages, and her books have placed on the New York Times, the Sunday Times (UK), and Germany’s der Spiegel bestseller lists.

 

 

Website * Twitter * Facebook * Instagram * YouTube

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

A supernatural journal. An overwhelmed kid. Can he lead a crew of first responders to success in a series of dangerous missions?

Noah loves his nighttime reading ritual with his dad. Stuck in a small new town after the pandemic caused his parents’ marriage to fracture, the curious thirteen-year-old happily explores the peculiar local bookstore. But when the lonely youngster takes home a firefighter’s old diary, he’s amazed when it transforms him into the book’s owner and transports him across space and time to a blazing building.

Distracted by a close friendship he’s developing with a smart schoolmate, Noah is certain the heat and confusion were just a frightening dream. But when he sits down to continue the fascinating story, he realizes he’s facing scarily real life-or-death situations… and his actions could change history.

Can he master the weird magic and make sure no one gets hurt?

The Phantom Firefighter is the action-filled first book in the First Responder fantasy series. If you like adventurous kids, clever humor, and pages jam-packed with suspense, then you’ll love J.W. Jarvis’s blending of reality and enchantment.

 

3% of all book sales go to First Responders Children’s Foundation, which provides financial support to children who have lost a parent in the line of duty.

 

 

 

Amazon

 

 

Read for Free via Kindle Unlimited

 

 

Excerpt

 

Noah and his dad heard a word whispered to them that they couldn’t understand, “Enciddugo!”

At that moment, Noah’s dad could see the burning building, hear the fire burning, and smell the heavy smoke. He looked down where his hands should be, but they weren’t there. Scared bystanders, large emergency vehicles, and busy firefighters surrounded him. He felt strangely attached to one of the firefighters, like he was floating above him. What had happened to his body? Was he dreaming this after reading about it in his son’s new book?

***

After hearing the same, strange word whispered to him, Noah felt a tingly sensation on his skin. It was like the feeling you get with goosebumps but way more intense. Like his dad, he could now see a large building partially on fire and many people and firefighters running near him.

What was happening?

He also felt the weight of something heavy on his body and head. He looked down and saw that he wore gloves and boots, which he was not wearing before story time with his dad.

Just then, Noah heard someone call “Zach!” and his instinct made him look up to see the firefighter that said it was staring right at him.

“Zach, snap out of it! The captain needs help in the building!” firefighter Ray exclaimed.

“What do you mean, my name is…” Noah caught his words realizing that he had never seen this person before in his life, and for some reason, this guy thought he was a guy named Zach.

“We need to get inside right away. The captain went in to check for remaining building occupants, and something happened.”

“How do you know?” Noah asked while still trying to internally process his transformation into Zach, the firefighter.

“You didn’t hear on your helmet headset? Captain said part of the ceiling came down, and he needs muscle,” replied Ray.

“Got it. Do we need to bring anything?”

“Jeez, Zach, why do you think they call me ‘Rookie Ray?’ You’re the experienced one here.”

“Alright Ray, follow me!” Noah said, thankful that he knew the name of the guy he was going into a burning building with.

Noah motioned to Ray to follow him toward one of the entrances. Noah headed toward the building with a strange mix of both nervous and confident feelings. His firefighter uniform was much heavier than he’d expected, but it gave him some comfort to know it would help protect him from dangers. He became anxious since he was entering a burning building without knowing anything about being a firefighter. Yet, his body was somehow mysteriously trained on what to do next.

 

 

About the Author

 

J.W. Jarvis lives in sunny California but is originally from the suburbs of the Windy City. When he’s not thinking of ways to create inspiring characters for young minds, you can find him reading, golfing, traveling, or just sipping a hot vanilla latte.

 

Website * Instagram * X/Twitter * Facebook

 

 

Synopsis

 

John Viera left his CIA fieldwork hoping for a “normal” occupation and a long-awaited family, but when a Pakistani engineer is kidnapped from a top-secret US project and diplomatic entanglements tie the government’s hands, the Intelligence Community turns to John and his team of ex-operatives to investigate — strictly off the books. They uncover a plot of unprecedented magnitude that will precipitate the slaughter of millions.

From the corporate skyscrapers of Montreal to the treacherous alleys of Baluchistan, these formidable enemies strike, determined to create a regional apocalypse and permanently alter the balance of world power. Isolated in their knowledge of the impending devastation, John and his network stand alone between total destruction and the Leopard of Cairo.

This is the first book in the Apex Predator series.

 

 

Amazon

 

Read for Free via Kindle Unlimited

 

 

Excerpt

 

John Viera jumped back from the swirl of soot. The bright green-and-blue Quetta city bus choked out another cloud, and a donkey beside it snorted, rattling its cart full of secondhand housewares. The vendor in the driver’s seat searched the crowd for one last customer. John ignored his hopeful glance and watched the bus chug deeper into the bowels of the Hazara Town market district.

The aroma of fresh bread sweetened the stench of exhaust that hung over the rush-hour crunch. John ducked into the bakeshop’s recessed doorway and scanned the street.

Bright paints battled vainly to beautify cement walls between dirty gray roll-down metal shop doors. Signs above the portals broadcast goods and trades in Urdu and English, revealing the creep of Westernization into the Islamic stronghold. Above John’s head, electrical wires crisscrossed, tying the one- and two-story structures together.

Vendors bustled to secure their wares in time for evening prayers. Mothers gripping plain cloth shopping bags herded children down sidewalks while bicycles competed with cars and donkey carts for street rights. None of them appeared to notice John. Western influence was widespread enough that he did not stand out with his collar-length umber hair, reddish beard, blue jeans, and khaki jacket.

Satisfied there were no immediate threats from the street, he glanced at his watch: 5:45. Martin would be waiting. John exited the bakery doorway and continued in the bus’s wake.

A bicyclist veered into traffic, and a truck swerved and jerked, cutting off a rusty sedan. The sedan’s horn blared. John flinched and pressed his hand to his ear.

¡Hostias! ¡Qué idiotas! He wished for a split second that he was still crouched in the mountains of Afghanistan, where he was sanctioned by the US government to capture or kill hostile actors, or at least to slam their heads in their car doors. In the city, though, he was constrained by rules of law and discretion. John quelled his irritation and strode to the corner.

He crossed with the light and visualized the remainder of his route to Martin’s. His MI6 counterpart had said his good-byes only a few weeks before, anticipating the welcoming women and rich cigars he would explore at his new post in Cuba. What ill wind could have blown the man from paradise back to hell so soon? Had he identified the mole in MI6? John picked up his pace.

An open truck shoved past, its load of sheep bleating protests through warped wooden slats, stinking of mud and hay. John wrinkled his nose. A block up the street, the truck spun a U-turn through an unlikely gap in the traffic and parked in front of a restaurant.

The bus ahead of John stopped at the corner across from the sheep. Passengers crowded on. Then a shopkeeper stepped from his corner store and threw his arms wide. The bus driver sprang to the sidewalk. The men clasped in a hug and submerged into conversation.

A fresh-faced woman in a pink hijab and sky-blue kameez veered around the talking driver, a little boy in tow. The child hugged a toy blow-up horse and grinned as if he clutched the Koh-i-Noor diamond. John gave the boy a smile when he passed.

Suddenly, three men in gray kameez tunics and salwar trousers burst around the opposite street corner. John’s head snapped up, drawn by their speed and focus. They stopped and scanned the crowd. One pointed toward the truckload of sheep and then pulled a pistol and fired.

John dove behind a parked car and drew his Makarov pistol from his waistband. Fight or flight? He stilled his urge to fire back. The last thing he needed was to become embroiled in a local turf war, particularly so near Martin’s. He only hoped his friend was not involved. He had to get to Martin.

More shots. Horns blared, and cars crowded one another to escape. The bus driver levitated into his vehicle. He threw it into gear and bullied his way around the corner. People who had sheltered behind the bus scrambled toward shops, even as shopkeepers slammed down their corrugated metal doors. Only two people weren’t moving—the child with the toy horse kneeling beside the woman in the pink hijab.

Blood seeped across her shoulder and rib cage. She gestured toward a shop with her good arm and shouted in Urdu. “Run. Now. Run.” The child burrowed closer.

John shoved his pistol in his waistband and charged to the woman. He swept her up and spoke to the boy in Urdu. “Follow us.” He sprinted toward a spice stall. The child dropped the horse and dogged John’s heels. The shopkeeper met John’s eyes, shook his head, and crashed down his metal door.

A bullet whizzed past and shattered a divot from the cement wall. John ducked away from the flying chips. The woman in his arms screamed, and her gaze sought her son. The boy tugged the end of her kameez and let go.

 

 

Intrigued by this series? You will want to follow it up with another book in the series.

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

In a chilling continuation of their Apex Predator novels, Bayard & Holmes compel us into the darkest corners of the Shadow World. A world where billionaires are not subject to governments and assassins, rogue nations, and terrorists are their tools to obtain global dominance. In an explosion of unrelenting action, one man and his team risk everything to protect the Western world.

Former CIA Operations Officer John Viera is doing his best to lead a “normal” life and start a family. Fate has other ideas.

When a Russian ship is mysteriously torpedoed off the coast of Peru, untracked enriched uranium is revealed within its cargo. Protecting his family’s multi-billion dollar business interests, the US president blocks agency investigations into the incident. Top intelligence officials covertly call in John Viera and his unofficial network of former operatives to uncover the new player on the nuclear chessboard. What they discover threatens the annihilation of the West.

From the jungles of the Amazon to the Sea of Japan, John and his network are the only ones who stand between international security and the Caiman of Iquitos.

This is the second book in the Apex Predator series, but it can be read as a standalone.

 

 

Amazon

 

 

Praise

 

“Wild adventure, delicious storytelling, tradecraft that only the insiders know. An excellent reminder that great spies tell great stories. The Leopard of Cairo is Bayard and Holmes’ best one yet. Do not miss the Truth and Fiction section at the back.” ~ Annie Jacobson, Writer/Producer of Jack Ryan

“This is a tightly woven thriller, and as an author, I appreciate the capability of Ms. Bayard (and Holmes) to blend seamlessly the personal lives and the dangers in the field for the main characters as well as those within the novel.” – Claire O’Sullivan, author of the Whiskey River Mysteries

““Bayard and Holmes’s The Leopard of Cairo is everything I love in a story: action, intrigue, exotic locations. Here is a lightning-fast tale of intrigue, lies, and the mother-of-all terrorist plots. Big story, big adventure, big thumbs-up!”” —James Rollins, New York Times Bestselling Author of the Sigma Force series

 

 

About the Authors

 

Piper Bayard is an author and a recovering attorney with a college degree or two. She is also a belly dancer and a former hospice volunteer. She has been working daily with her good friend Jay Holmes for the past decade, learning about foreign affairs, espionage history, and field techniques for the purpose of writing fiction and nonfiction. She currently pens espionage nonfiction and international spy thrillers with Jay Holmes, as well as post-apocalyptic fiction of her own.

Jay Holmes is a forty-five-year veteran of field espionage operations with experience spanning from the Cold War fight against the Soviets, the East Germans, and the various terrorist organizations they sponsored to the present Global War on Terror. He is unwilling to admit to much more than that. Piper is the public face of their partnership.

Together, Bayard & Holmes author non-fiction articles and books on espionage and foreign affairs, as well as fictional international spy thrillers. They are also the bestselling authors of The Spy Bride from the Risky Brides Bestsellers Collection and were featured contributors for Social In Worldwide, Inc.

When they aren’t writing or, in Jay’s case, busy with “other work,” Piper and Jay are enjoying time with their families, hiking, exploring back roads of America, talking foreign affairs, laughing at their own rude jokes until the wee hours, and questing for the perfect chocolate cake recipe.

 

Website * Facebook * X (Twitter)

 

 

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

When Jan moves to Guatemala with her young daughter to run a medical clinic on the heels of her divorce, she knows the experience will be difficult and life-changing. But she doesn’t anticipate all the ways she will change. To make sense of her professional, personal, and parenting turmoil in a country with plenty of its own turmoil, Jan finds herself adopting a Maya worldview that weaves together concepts of duality (there can be no light without dark, no joy without pain), harmony with nature, and the importance of connecting to the past to understand one’s present self.

Awash with elements of Mayan mythology, history, and culture and innumerable revelations of the compassion, intelligence, and resilience of the Guatemalan people, Bird’s-Eye View is a coming-of-middle-age story that shows how viewing life through the prism of a different set of myths can help an individual understand the familiar tales they have unwittingly followed.

 

 

Amazon

 

 

Excerpt

 

Everything has a spirit

 

In an animistic cosmology such as the Maya world view, the natural and supernatural realms co-mingle, and all things are imbued with a sacred essence. Everything has a spirit—the rocks, the lake, the trees.

The spirits of trees are evidenced by the fact that they grow back when they are cut down, so it is forbidden to sit on a stump because that would be sitting on a spirit. Also, because the tree has a spirit, before cutting it or using its wood, one must ask permission of nature and wait until a full moon. If not, the tree’s spirit can harm the logger or his family.

I heard of a man who wanted to clear the land but did not recognize the hallowedness of the tree spirit, did not consult the guardian of nature, and did not wait for the full moon. Instead, he capriciously chopped what was in his way and stepped over the stump. The trunk tumbled, the branches broke, and the crown collapsed. Rising from the stump was not a spirit, but a ghost. The man only wanted to clear the land for his crops. He did not care for the wood he left on the ground, so he burned the stump and left the trunk there to rot. The stump’s ashes turned to mud, and its ghost haunted him.

If all natural objects have spirits, do intangible things such as relationships have them as well? If so, how had my relationship with Wade (my former husband) sprouted? How had it grown? How had it died?

For many years, the heartwood held our tree upright. Our daughter was a new branch that grew out. We bought a little house, delved into countless projects, and planted our garden. I sowed the seed of the idea of our little family traveling, living, and working in Latin America, perhaps because I thought if we were doing what we loved with each other, we would prune the decaying limbs and new growth would sprout. The early version of us lay inside, but layers that grew year after year made it harder to reach.

Holding on to the hope of reviving what was dying between us, I stayed at a job I hated for years to save money for our trip to Latin America. Every year that passed, I thought we were a little bit closer, but in reality, every year that passed, we were a little bit further apart. After a decade together, the heartwood rotted, and a hollow pith formed.

Still, by force of my will, our family held together. When Wade canceled our trip and soon thereafter split apart our family without consulting the powers that be, our marriage was felled.

Was the spirit of our failed marriage left standing? Did it haunt him the way it haunted me? And yet, out of the stumped of what had been carelessly cut, new life was emerging.

 

 

About the Author

 

Jan Capps has been a public health advocate for immigrants, farmworkers, domestic violence victims, and people of color in the US, Guatemala, and Mexico for over thirty years, focusing on building local capacity and health equity. During her two stints living in Guatemala, she organized and trained community health workers and midwives, managed a medical clinic, and studied the Maya Tz’utujil language. She has presented, trained, and written for national audiences. Her greatest joy and most humbling experiences have been being a mother and watching her glorious daughter grow and launch into the world.

 

Website

 

 

Synopsis

 

Against all odds, is true love strong enough to save a human soul?

After leaving her abusive ex, American scholar Brielle DeVolt embarks on a career-changing opportunity, the renovation of Laird Colin MacDougall’s Chapel ruin. The attractive, broad-shouldered Laird leaves her weak-kneed, but can she trust herself to love again?

Dusted in construction dirt, the curvy beauty in his study captivates Colin. As Brielle steps to the window, her brunette tresses halo in the sunlight, and he sees her as his dream soul mate. When he learns his hereditary duty is safeguarding magic Fae stones, all he wants is to protect Brielle from the evil forces of the Fae.

Traveling to the past to assume his forefather’s identity and find a missing magic stone is challenging enough. When Brielle appears, an undeniable attraction to his ancestor ignites, causing her confused passion. Faced with fighting an evil Fae to save the realms, Colin must choose between saving the stone or saving his love.

 

 

Amazon * B&N * Kobo * Bookshop

 

 

Excerpt

 

At the study, the door was ajar. A low fire glowed around the room. Good, someone already lit the fire. Brielle slipped into the dim room, crossed to the fireplace, and set the candle on the mantel. A flash of lightning illuminated the room, drawing her gaze to the shelves beside the fireplace.

She perused the shelving, trying to find the perfect book. She realized the one she wanted was three shelves up, and she couldn’t reach that high. Climbing to her knees on the lower cabinet, she stood and reached to the shelving above. Her fingertips barely touched the book she wanted. She stretched a bit more, and just as she was about to reach the spine marked Love Poems and Sonnets, a crack of thunder startled her, and she fell backward off the bookcase. Her cry was cut short when she hit something solid. A warm, muscular chest shifted along her back, and strong arms cradled her. Mortified, she kept her eyes shut. How much worse could it get?

Then the chest shook with a chuckle. The voice that belonged to it said, “Careful what ye seek, lassie. Ye might find something ye aren’t looking for.” In utter embarrassment, she kept her eyes shut. It was Colin.

“Ye can open your eyes, Brielle.” She turned her head farther into his chest. That was a mistake. He was shirtless and smelled too damn good.

“Please put me down,” she breathed. Colin moved to the couch and lowered her to the cushions. A plaid wrap lay on the sofa, still warm from a human body. She was not the only one who hated storms. She peered up from the couch. Next to the bookcase, Colin bent and picked up the book from the floor. He glanced at the open book, then at her with a raised eyebrow, and read aloud:

Western wind, when wilt thou blow.

That the small rain down can rain?

Christ, that my love was in my arms

And I in my bed again.

“Some light reading for a storm?” Colin lifted an eyebrow.

“Something of the sort. I was hoping to pass the storm.” Thunder boomed again. She jumped and squeaked.

“Storms scare ye?” He closed the book and went to the couch, handing it to her.

She went to take it from his hands, their touch causing sparks to fly up her arm. She glanced up at Colin’s face. He stood there with his hand still outstretched. He gazed directly into her eyes. They paused a moment. She shook herself, put the book on the side table, then peeked from under her lashes at Colin.

He faced the fireplace, bending to turn up the gas. His back muscles rippled with the movement of his body. As he rose, his muscles undulated under the stretched material of his jeans. Sensual heat rose inside Brielle like a fiery flame. He twisted, gazing at her. His face had the same smoldering expression as the one in the portrait of his ancestor she’d seen the day she arrived.

Thunder surged again. She jumped, closing her eyes and keeping them shut. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. After a moment, a shuffling told her he had moved around the room. A clink of glasses and the sound of liquid pouring. The couch dipped, and his body shifted toward her. A familiar potent, tart smell filled her nostrils, making her mouth water, and she licked her lips. He had positioned the glass under her nose.

She opened her eyes and took the glass from him.

“Here, lass, we’re in for a blow tonight. Ye’ll need this. Power won’t be back until morning, when the crews can get out this far.” He reclined back on the cushions. “Have a wee nip, and we’ll get ye back to yerself in no time.”

She drew a sip, swallowing the liquor and welcoming the warming sensation. Colin took a sip of his. Another boom, and she jumped.

“Come lass, tuck in, and let me chase yer fears away.” He settled her in the crook of his arm as they lay back on the couch. Colin wrapped them up in the red plaid with green and blue patterns, just like the one on her bed.

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Margaret Izard is an award-winning author of historical fantasy and paranormal romance novels. She spent her early years through college and adulthood dedicated to dance, theater, and performing. Over the years, she developed a love for great storytelling in different mediums. She does not waste a good story, be it movement, the spoken, or the written word. She discovered historical romance novels in middle school, which combined her passion for romance, drama, and fantasy. She writes exciting plot lines, steamy love scenes and always falls for a strong male with a soft heart. She lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and adult triplets and loves to hear from readers.

 

Website * Twitter * Facebook * Instagram

 

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

“One must be careful practicing deception. The easiest to deceive will always be one’s self.”

The skilled thieves of the Takers Guild plot to overthrow the kingdoms of Baelon, but when their plans are thwarted by a prescient woman and her brooding daughter, they must turn to the League of Assassins for assistance. Meanwhile, retired royal guard Rolft Aerns returns to the palace of King Axil with an old score to settle. When they all cross paths–and swords–in the dark shadows of Fostead’s south end, nothing is as it seems, and the murder count rises quickly. The long fingers of the Guild reach everywhere, and one overly ambitious thief is all it takes to spark a chain of events that will haunt the world of Baelon for many years to come.

Six Moons, Seven Gods is book one in The Legends of Baelon.

 

 

Amazon

 

Read for Free via Kindle Unlimited

 

 

Praise

 

“A fascinatingly detailed and murder-fueled adventure in a violent fantasy setting.” — Kirkus Reviews

“In Robert A. Walker’s Six Moons, Seven Gods, loyalty and treachery entwine, friendships are tested, and dangerous secrets are held close to the heart… a brilliant, compelling narrative that hooks the reader from start to finish.” — Literary Titan 5-star Review

“…an exceptionally rewarding fantasy. There are twists and turns that will keep you on the edge of your seat, unable to stop reading.” — Ronél Steyn for Readers’ Favorite, 5 stars

 

 

Excerpt

 

Sibil sat on a bed in a servant’s quarters, her head spinning. Had it not been for previous visits to the palace with Princess Lewen, she would not have known where she was. The steward had escorted her briskly to the room some time ago, leaving her to entertain herself.

There seemed no end to the mystery surrounding her mother. Supposed premonitions of death had been unnerving enough, but now… an audience with the king? At his request! It was surreal, and Sibil’s wildest conjectures did not begin to explain it.

Her attempt to seize control of her own life seemed waylaid once again. She was imagining herself a bit of flotsam from a shipwreck, at the mercy of the ocean’s currents, when the steward returned, shutting the door angrily behind himself.

“Where is my mother?” she asked as he approached.

“With the king.” Without warning, the steward sat so close to her their thighs touched.

“I should like to see her.” Sibil started to rise.

“In due time.” The steward caught her arm and pulled her back to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“If your mother were more forthcoming, you would not be so inconvenienced.”

“How do you mean?” Sibil’s eyes darted toward the door.

“The woman’s hiding something. Perhaps you’d like to tell me what that is.”

“My mother has nothing to hide from the king!”

“I could be convinced of that, I suppose.” The steward loosened his hold and placed a palm against Sibil’s cheek. “There are many ways for you to prove your loyalty to the throne.” His hand brushed her breast as he withdrew it. “Are you prepared to do so?” Before Sibil could respond, he leaned in, his lips seeking hers.

Sibil pushed him away, struggling to stand. “How dare you!”

“Need I remind you where you are?” The steward rose, positioning himself between her and the door. “Or who you’re talking to?”

“I mean no disrespect, m’lord, but if you—“

“Take off your blouse.”

“What?!”

“Like mother, like daughter. Take off your blouse and let us see what you are hiding there.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” said Sibil breathlessly. “And if you lay another hand on me—“

The steward grasped her sleeve. Sibil twisted violently away, her blouse ripping at the shoulder seam.

The steward grinned. “You see? One way or the other!” He started to laugh, sobering quickly at the sight of the dagger Sibil produced. “Put that away before you hurt yourself.”

“Take me to my mother!” Sibil waved the dagger at him.

“Did I not warn you about making demands?” The steward lashed out, recoiling as Sibil’s blade pricked his arm. He swore loudly as he inspected the spot of crimson staining his white blouse. “You’ll not soon forget what I’m going to do to you.”

“Touch me and I’ll kill you!” Sibil lurched past the steward and onto the bed, clambering quickly over it, but he intercepted her before she could reach the door. He kicked a stool separating them toward her. Sibil grabbed it and flung it back at him. The stool sailed past the steward’s head and crashed against the door.

“Make all the noise you want,” the steward said. “No one cares!”

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Award-winning author Robert A. Walker grew up in Northwestern Massachusetts. After graduating college, he packed his scant belongings in a car with rusted-out floorboards and headed west. He’s lived in California ever since, and now resides along the Pacific Ocean with his wife and dogs. When not fabricating stories, he can be found roaming local tennis courts or working on a never-ending list of DIY house projects.

 

Website

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Synopsis

 

In a bind, Bud Palmer finds himself at the crossroads when just about everything was on the verge.

Like most people, Bud Palmer felt this was just another day. Though the era was drawing to a close, he assumed his life as a sports columnist in the subtropics, in keeping with the benign fifties itself, would go on as predictable as ever. But that particular autumn morning he was thrust into a caper that was totally beyond him, forced him to leave Miami and take the train to Manhattan, and suddenly found everything in this restless “Big Apple” was up for grabs, on the brink, at a dicey turning point.

 

 

Amazon * B&N * BookShop

 

Praise for Shelly Frome

 

“This is a great mystery that had me guessing at what was really happening. I was sucked in and held tight until the reveal. A couple great twists and turns had me thrown off balance and guessing the whole time.” (Moon Games by Shelly From)-JBrounder Reviews

“It is full of action, adventure, mystery and suspense. It is not one that I could easily predict. The twists and turns kept on the edge of my seat. I never knew what would happen next.” (Moon Games by Shelly Frome)-AmyBooksy, Locks, Hooks, and Books

“The cover of this book shows what looks like a beautiful and peaceful place to live, but looks can be deceiving. Lies, bribery, and deceit are running rampant in this little town. Twists and turns are around every corner. Well written mystery”(Secluded Village Murders by Shelly Frome)- Lisa’s Writopia

“An entertaining story that has enough quirky characters, intrigue, suspense, humor, and drama that easily draws the reader into Emily’s amateur sleuth adventure. This cozy mystery is full of devious plot twists and turns that will easily keep you guessing. The Secluded Village Murders is an intriguing whodunit tale that cozy mystery fans will want to add to their reading list.” (Secluded Village Murders by Shelly Frome)- Kathleen Higgins-Anderson, Jersey Girl Book Reviews 

 

 

Excerpt

 

 

Even when Bud caught up to Katie, she did one of her I’m-mad-and-not-listening pouts and climbed a branch higher on the mango tree until she was almost camouflaged by the big leaves and hanging fruit.

Reaching out to her, Bud said, “Katie, I’m trying to tell you it couldn’t be helped. And if you’d think about the example I just gave you, you could be grown up about it, understand and come down from there.”

“Well I don’t care,” Katie said, poking her narrow face out through the foliage. “You promised. You always keep your promises. And when a person doesn’t all of a sudden keep their promise, they shouldn’t be listened to. And I especially don’t care about some dumb girl named Scout in some dumb town in Alabama, wherever that is.”

“Don’t,” Bud said, as she plucked a plump, reddish Haydon mango, tore into the thick skin, and took a big bite out of the juicy orange pulp. “Come on, Katie. You’ll get it all over your blouse, it’ll dribble onto your overalls and—will you stop this and listen for a second?”

“Why should I?”

“The point, Katie. You’re missing the point. No matter how hard you try, sometimes something comes up and you’ve got to make a choice. Are you going to take the easy way out and be tomboy Scout? Or are you going to go out of your way and be sensible Jean Louise Finch?”

Wiping some of the orange glop off her face, Katie peered down and said, “She’s got two names. How come? I don’t have two names.”

Trying harder, Bud said, “‘Cause Scout was her nickname. ‘Cause the writer was trying to tell us that under pressure—look, she marched straight over to the jailhouse steps and looked this mob right in the eye. Did it before they could storm the jailhouse and harm an innocent prisoner. Dropped her nickname and reminded them who she was and who they were. And said,  ‘Hey, Mister Cunningham. I’m Jean Louise Finch, remember? I play with your boy Walter and you brought my dad and me some hickory nuts.’”

“So?”

“So she made them ashamed. Stood up to them.”

“And that’s why you were late? And that’s what you did?”

“Not exactly. But I wound up at a Miami Beach hotel to keep them from doing harm to your grandmother’s kid brother Uncle Rick. It took some doing, called your mom and made my apologies. And, by the time I was through, it was too late to take you to the parrot jungle. And that’s just for openers.”

“So it’s not over?”

“It could get even worse until I go to New York and—”

“Golly.” Katie said, cutting in. “Then you got to tell me how you stood up to them and saved the day.” She scrambled down and took off through the grove. Before he could catch up to her she raced past Jill, the freckled faced baby sitter, grabbed her mother’s hand and pointed to Bud as he was catching up to her. “Hey, mom, guess what? Uncle Bud is taking on the mob!”

 

 

Guest Review by Nora

 

I honestly was not expecting such an engrossing read going into this! I do appreciate a good historical mystery, but I’m not that familiar with the 1950s, so I wasn’t sure what to expect when I started ‘Fast Times, Big City.’

Boy, was I surprised to find this would soon become one of my favorite reads of the year so far! This is an electric story about crime, passion and one man’s quest to protect his own family, all set in the buzzing world of New York City in the 1950s.

Bud Palmer is a sports reporter for the Miami Herald. Family means a lot to Bud, especially his sister and his feisty tom-boy of a niece, but when Bud’s mother asks him to check on his uncle while she is on a cruise, Bud is immediately reluctant.

Uncle Rick has a bit of a reputation for being a screw-up. As a private detective, Rick hasn’t had much success and now he’s gotten himself into something that may even get himself killed.

After meeting with Rick, Bud soon learns that his uncle has angered a mobster named Al Escobar who believes that Rick set him up. Something happened during a high-stakes poker game that left a woman that Rick arrived with—a beautiful Marilyn Monroe lookalike—walking away with a briefcase that belongs to Escobar.

Now, Bud has been roped in to traveling to New York to find the blonde and retrieve the briefcase. Of course, he has no idea where to find her, so things get hazardous quickly. Luckily, Bud is a natural investigator, who makes friends quickly even in the mean streets of New York.

‘Fast Times, Big City,’ is a book that you’re going to have to read to believe, I know I had to! This is a top-notch novel that totally transports the reader to another era.

Five stars! (or Paws in the case of this blog!)

 

 

 

 

 

About the Author

 

Award winning author, Shelly Frome is a member of Mystery Writers of America, a professor of dramatic arts emeritus at UConn, a former professional actor, and a writer of crime novels and books on theater and film. He also is a features writer for Gannett Publications.

His fiction includes Sun Dance for Andy Horn, Lilac Moon, Twilight of the Drifter, Tinseltown Riff, Murder Run, Moon Games, The Secluded Village Murders and Miranda and the D-Day Caper. Among his works of non-fiction are The Actors Studio: A History, a guide to playwriting and one on screenwriting, Shadow of the Gypsy is his latest foray into the world of crime and the amateur sleuth.

He lives in Black Mountain, North Carolina.

 

Website * Twitter * Facebook * Goodreads

 

 

 

Giveaway

 

This giveaway is for 2 print or ebook copies, open to the U.S. and Canada only.

This giveaway ends on March 26, 2024 midnight, pacific time.

Entries are accepted via Rafflecopter only.

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway