Book Title: The Cleansweep Counterstrike by Chuck Waldron Series: A Matt Tremain Technothriller Book 2 Category: Adult Fiction, 312 pages Genre: Thriller / dystopian Publisher: Bublish Inc. Release date: April 21, 2018 Content Rating: PG-13 + M (Adult language)
Synopsis
In this sequel, Matt Tremain is back, facing an even deadlier threat. Deceit and intrigue lie hidden behind the collapse of Operation CleanSweep. It’s time for revenge.
Instrumental in exposing the evil behind Operation CleanSweep—a diabolical “cultural cleansing” plot masterminded by Toronto billionaire Charles Claussen—investigative blogger Tremain now faces the madman’s desire for vengeance. Claussen intends to settle the score personally by luring Matt into a deadly trap.
But the clock is ticking for Claussen, too. Fraternité des Aigles, The Brotherhood of Eagles—a shadowy group that secretly financed Claussen’s Operation CleanSweep—wants answers and their money back. Consumed with rage, Claussen risks everything to get to Matt before the Brotherhood gets to him. Tremain is once again partnering with a police detective, Carling. Knowing they are being lured into a possible trap, they decide to face their nemesis, Charles Claussen.
Across four continents, Claussen sets traps, pursues Tremain, and continues to execute his signature brand of global chaos. When his fiancé’s life is on the line, can Tremain stop Claussen’s madness and still avoid getting killed?
I will be the first one to tell you that writing is not easy! I love reading and sharing books with all my followers/readers, but sometimes it is hard to write a review so I can’t imagine what it might be to write a book! Thanks to Chuck for sharing his insights into writing.
Writing is easy, right?
A man approached my table at a book fair. “Writing a novel is easy, right? I have this story I want to write. Tell me where to start?”
“The beginning is easy. What comes next is hard.”
“Huh?”
“First, you need a license. Do you have one?”
“I had no idea,” he said. “Where do I get one.”
“The Department of Creative Writing,” I told him. “Each state capital has one, or province if you live in Canada. You have to pass a test. The written part is the hardest,” I added.
“I had no idea,” he said.
~~~
A frequent question to writers is where we get our ideas, is writing hard, how long does it take to write a novel?
A woman told me she would like to write but didn’t have an imagination.
I”m lost without my imaginary friends and enemies. Matt Tremain’s my latest made-up friend. He wanted to expose the truth behind a curtain of conspiracy. Mostly, he wanted to stay. In the sequel, he’s now hunted by his nemesis, out for revenge.
Writers all have something in common, an idea or storyline appears, and we begin to imagine characters, give them shape and voice. We put them in danger, then try to get them out of trouble. We tend to do that a lot in a novel. Stories may take a lot of detours to get to the end. Sometimes the danger is from other characters. Sometimes the danger comes from Nature, a hurricane maybe. Sometimes the danger is from the inside, a serious character flaw. In remarkable stories I’ve read, it has all three of those elements. Whew.
That’s how it happened when I wrote The Cleansweep Counterstrike and the prequel, The Cleansweep Conspiracy. I have enjoyed putting Matt Tremain in harm’s way and facing dangers, hopefully keeping readers in suspense about the outcome. I look forward to you becoming one of my readers. Let me know how I did.
Chuck Waldron,
Author, The Cleansweep Conspiracy and The Cleansweep Counterstrike
Chuck Waldron is the author of four riveting mystery, thriller and suspense novels and more than fifty short stories. Inspired by his grandfather’s tales of the Ozark Mountains and local caves rumored to be havens for notorious gangsters, Waldron was destined to write about crime and the human condition. Those childhood legends ignited his imagination and filled his head with unforgettable characters, surprising plots and a keen interest in supernatural and historical subplots.
With literary roots planted in the American Midwest and South, and enriched by many years living in the fertile cultural soil of metropolitan Ontario, Waldron now resides on Florida’s fabled Treasure Coast with his wife, Suzanne. While keeping an eye out for hurricanes, alligators, and the occasional Burmese python, visitors will find Waldron busy writing his next crime thriller.
Ricki Sheridan traveled a long way to seek refuge at Wolf Den’s Lodge high in the mountains after a devastating betrayal. Heartbroken, she signed up for a survivalist backpacking trip to live off the land and forget.
An injury on the first day puts her in the capable hands of the handsome trail boss, Kory Littleton. The attraction is instant, mutual, and terrifying. She trusted her emotions once and vowed never to make the same mistake again.
Kory’s heart, trampled and bruised, is unprepared to ever love again, until his unexpected reaction to Ricki reveals some things are worth taking a chance on.
When evil finds its way back into Ricki’s world, their fragile bond is tested, forcing them to face their greatest fear: can a wounded heart ever trust anew?
Patty Wiseman, as well as anyone and better than most, sure knows how to write the three basic ingredients of a page-turning and unforgettable novel: mystery, suspense, and romance. — Caleb & Linda Pirtle ~ Here Comes a Mystery
“It was pure perfection!” — Jessa, Amazon Reviewer
“Author Patty Wiseman does a good job of injecting so much action into just the first two pages that I had high expectations for this story. And That One Moment does not disappoint.” — Natasha Jackson for Readers’ Favorite
This story reminds us that you should not hesitate when you find love because life is too short and the perfect love might pass you by.
Kory & Ricki find each other in an unusual place – on a mountain during a survival hike. Not a place you would expect to meet your other half, or at least I wouldn’t expect to meet someone but then you probably wouldn’t find me on a survival hike! Ricki has a some baggage from her past and unfortunately some of it follows her up the mountain. This has a huge impact on her interest in Kory. She is very attracted to him but is very unsure of herself. I liked that she was vulnerable when it came to love despite her background in the military and in law enforcement as a game warden.
Now while you might think this is a nice love story there is some friction from a truly evil antagonist. I love how the author gives him terrible attributes and it is highly unlikely anyone will really like this character. And just when you think justice has been served on this character, he comes back for more. While I don’t want to give away too much, when he reappears I felt my heart catch in several scenes wondering how evil he would act.
There are several minor characters that sometimes stole the scene. There Wolf who has been around the block and we learn more about his past when it comes to love. Byron is also another character that stole my attention. He is an older teen that Wolf has taken under his wing. It is also a testament to Wolf and Byron’s parents that they realize that he is not meant to be in a classroom and set up stipulations for him to do what suits his personality and temperament. Kyle cracked me up in a scene regarding guns. I won’t say much more because it might give away a little of the story, but I think he could become a strong character in a future book.
If you like romantic suspense I believe you will enjoy this book.
We give it 4 paws up
Award Winning Author Patty Wiseman is a native of the Seattle, Washington area and attended The Wesleyan College in Bartlesville Oklahoma. Northeast Texas is home now, along with her husband Ron. She is the president of East Texas Writer’s Association, a Lifetime Member of the Worldwide Who’s Who for Professional Women (and named VIP for 2013), and a member of the Northeast Texas Writer’s Organization, East Texas Writer’s Guild, and Texas Association of Authors.
Book Title: The Love Fool: A Rome-antic Comedy by Lorenzo Petruzziello Category: Adult Fiction, 314 pages Genre: Romantic Comedy Publisher: Quill (Inkshares) Release date: March 13, 2018 Content Rating: PG
Synopsis
Set in Rome. Follow the whirlwind antics of a publicist as he struggles to manage his first TV chef client, his new life, and an unexpected visit from his ex-girlfriend.
Alex recently moved to Italy for an opportunity at a PR firm in Rome. His first client is the beautiful Danish chef Pernille Bjørn, a popular model, TV personality, and cookbook author just entering the booming televised cooking show market in Italy.
Alex’s single-minded career focus is soon thwarted by Emily, an ex-girlfriend he hasn’t heard from in almost a decade.
Italy’s modern culture and enchanting sights set the backdrop to this Rome-antic comedy.
I’m a part-time writer – working fulltime and writing when I can in the evenings or weekends. As one can imagine, it is not an easy feat. Being in the office all day, analyzing this, figuring out that, solving problems here, and making mistakes there. Not to mention the occasional stress of not losing the income that allows you to eat and live. It’s a lot for a person; especially for a writer – a person who is typically dramatic, sensitive, observant and imaginative has the problem of letting their minds go wild with ideas that can be productive and unnecessarily stressful.
Are you stressed reading this? You should be. I purposefully wrote it to make you uncomfortable. This is how a writer usually feels when they go home from a hard day’s work and spot their computer, and story notes, staring back at him/her collecting dust. Failure. That’s the first thing that comes to the mind. Sit down and write – just write, you keep telling yourself. So you sit there, switch on computer and stare at the last few paragraphs you had written maybe a month ago. You read and reread those words and wonder: What the hell you could have been thinking typing that junk? Stop. You have to stop yourself. You sit back and tell yourself: Relax, you can do this. But how?
Stop. Just stop. Sit back and let your mind relax. You have to allow it to turn off that business-focused thinking and let the creative juices flow. It’s not easy, but it needs to happen. Some suggest to go for a walk. Or cook a nice meal. Something to let your mind just relax and switch into the creative mindset. And of course, always strive to make that something healthy and positive.
What is your method to fuel your creative mind?
Trailer
About the Author
Lorenzo Petruzziello holds an MBA in global marketing from Suffolk University in Boston, Massachusetts. His background includes publicity and marketing for many of public television’s popular cooking and travel shows. He lives in Massachusetts focusing on his writing. THE LOVE FOOL is his first novel.
Bindusar, the Samrat Chakravartin of all the Aryas, ruler of the Indian subcontinent, is dead. Chaos rules across the empire. The royal succession turns upon intrigue, dark coalitions, violence and death. The realm stands divided and civil war ensues.
In Vidishanagri: Asoka kills his brother’s Ashwamedha stallion and marches to Patliputra with his army. The ancient Brahminical order rises in his supports, awaiting his entry into the capital. Have they made the right choice?
In Taxila: The rightful heir, Sushem, raises an army to meet the challenge posed by his ambitious and gifted brother, Asoka. He prepares to march to the capital and seize the throne by force. Will history repeat itself; will Sushem achieve what his grandfather Chandragupta did 50 years ago?
In Junagarh: Guild Master Hardeo sets out on a private mission to acquire the great salt pans of Sindh. Will he succeed in his secret enterprise?
In Vidishanagri: Radhagupta travels to fulfill the task allotted to him by the Order. Kanakdatta, the Buddhist, stands up to stop him. Will Radhagupta fail in his mission?
The winds of war howl over the sub-continent, blowing every last person one way or the other. Blood will be spilled, secrets revealed and men ruined. History shall be made.
In Book II of the epic Asoka Trilogy, the storm approaches; the harbinger of death and destruction. When the dust finally settles, the great question will be answered: Who is the next Samrat of the holy Lands of the Aryas?
Excerpt
For many centuries the holy books of the Aryas have preached everything from eternal unity of one’s own kind to selfless service to one’s family and society. But aeons after they were written, we still cannot practice what we preach…
Our lands lie fragmented, divided by everything from regionalism to tribal sentiment and the petty selfishness of individual rulers. Our Rajas had fought over everything from women, to land and pride; so much so that wars with their neighbours has become a habit. And every time some powerful Arya rises above these squabbles and seeks to unify our lands, he turns out to be an evil monster rather than a rightful Samrat. Be it Jarasandha of yore or the tyrannical Nandas of our times, those who have tried to unify our lands have
It is not that the learned men of our society have accepted or become resigned to this state of affairs. They have always attempted to stand against these evil rulers. Be it Lord Krishna of a thousand years ago, or I the humble servitorof my people in these unsettled times.
My name is Arya Chanakya, though I am known as Kautilya these days. Few are privy to my past so take heed of what I say; then hold the words sealed within your breast.
I was born eight decades ago in the northwest of our subcontinent, where the Land of the Aryas ends and those of foreigners like the Mlechhas and the Yavanas begin. For my entire youth I strived for only two things – to accumulate knowledge of our world; and unite our race as a single entity.
People considered me foolish and stubborn. The Rajas laughed at my advice and continued to fight meaningless wars for worthless reasons. For three decades of my life my efforts were in vain as I tried and failed to instill the virtues of unity and service in our rulers.
Then, everything changed. I recognized my mistake. I had been counting on changing the mindset of our people from within. What I should have realized long before was that change of such proportions can only be brought about by a powerful external force. Fifty years ago, that powerful force arrived at the boundaries of our Bharat, armed with insurmountable power. His name was Alexander, and he came from beyond the seven seas, from the lands of the Greeks. His objective was simple – to conquer the whole wide world. And our lands were next – the doorway to the far East.
The Rajas of the northwest reacted as I had expected. They made deals with this foreign foe in order to destroy the enemies of their own race. Even Raja Ambhi of Taxila, did so. Only one man refused to succumb to Alexander. His name was Puru, the mightiest Raja of the region.
But even Puru’s might was no match for Alexander’s tactics and deceit. On the banks of the holy Jhelum, everyone gasped with horror as Puru lost the battle to the Greeks – everyone except me; I just smiled.
As Alexander spent time consolidating power in the northwest, I travelled east to the greatest city of the known world – to Patliputra, ruled by the Nandas. My plan was simple: to ask the Nanda Maharaja to take his army northwest to defeat the Greeks. The people of the northwest were disgusted by the unmanly conduct of their Rajas, almost all of whom had surrendered without a fight. If The Nandas fought and won against the Greeks, the people of the northwest would accept them as their saviours, thereby uniting the subcontinent, north and south, east and west.
But my plan had a serious flaw. While everyone knew the Nandas had the largest standing army in the world, what few people beyond their borders knew was how they used it. I discovered that the army was used to terrorize their subjects. The Nandas were tyrannical kings who ruled with the force of an equally tyrannical army. I witnessed and experienced their tyranny first hand. I was imprisoned and tortured by Nanda lieutenants in Patliputra.
But I was rescued by an Ancient Brotherhood that had dwelled in the tunnels below the city for five centuries. Since its founder, Maharaja Ajatshatru, had laid down its mission, the brothers of the order had zealously safeguarded the interests of the Arya race, secretly. They rescued me from prison and inducted me into their ranks. They bestowed upon me their mission: To bring down the evil Nandas from their thrones.
About the Author
Shreyas is a 21 year old guy currently pursuing his B.Tech in Electrical Eng. from VNIT Nagpur. His love for history since his childhood prompted him to write his take on the story of Asoka who was one of the towering figures in the history of India, which has been taken up as ‘The Asoka Trilogy’ by Leadstart Publishing.
The first part of the trilogy called ‘The Prince of Patliputra’ has been published in January 2016 and garnered positive responses.
He is also presently working on several other manuscripts and completing the final year of his engineering Course.
Summer may be ending, but what doesn’t end are the number of books available to read! I’ll choose 1 or 2 lucky winners (based on entries) to receive a book from my stash. I have a variety of genres so if I have something that fits your preferred genre, that is what I will send!
This is open to US residents only due to shipping costs
In 2005, Ted W. Baxter was at the top of his game. He was a successful, globe-trotting businessman with a resume that would impress the best of the best. In peak physical condition, Ted worked out nearly every day of the week. And then, on April 21, 2005, all that came to an end. He had a massive ischemic stroke. Doctors feared he wouldn’t make it, or if he did make it, he would be in a vegetative state in a hospital bed for the rest of his life.
But miraculously, that’s not what happened . . .
In Relentless, Ted W. Baxter describes his remarkable recovery. Not only did he live, but he’s walking and talking again. He moves through life almost as easily as he did before the stroke; only now, his life is better. He’s learned that having a successful career is maybe not the most important thing. He’s learned to appreciate life more. He’s learned that he wants to help people—and that’s what he does. He gives back, volunteering his time and effort to help other stroke victims.
Relentless is a wonderful resource for stroke survivors, caregivers, and their loved ones, but it is also an inspiring and motivating read for anyone who is facing struggles in their own life.
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Four Days, Four Flights
I was at the top of the totem pole.
I had surpassed all others on my globe-trotting climb to the top of the financial industry. I was a man on a mission—a constant blur of motion as I steadfastly pursued my career goals.
I have a resume that would impress the best of the best. I spent years devoting nearly every waking moment to the Price Waterhouse financial services consulting group. I started and grew their Tokyo division, which led to my designation as partner.
When that challenge was no longer enough, I left Price Waterhouse and joined Credit Suisse First Boston as the regional financial controller for Asia Pacific. When they moved me back to Manhattan to serve as American financial controller and then on to global managing director of financial systems and strategy, I found myself bored once again. I needed an even greater challenge. I had to keep moving. So my wife and I relocated, yet again, to Chicago, so I could take the position of global controller at Citadel, one of the most successful hedge fund companies in the world. At forty-one, at the peak of my game, I was the go-to guy in the financial services arena.
I have an impressive resume, but it didn’t come without a great deal of effort.
And in an instant, it was all gone.
I remember bits and pieces of the weeks leading up to my collapse.
For instance, I remember being impressed by the view as my wife and I landed on Mauritius, an island off the coast of Africa, en route to an all-inclusive resort. As would be expected, we were dressed for relaxation when we walked out of the airport into the bright sunshine, with sunglasses in place and shorts showing off our untanned skin. Winter in Chicago had, as usual, been brutally long. Things were starting to thaw there, but it would be another month, at least, before we had day-to-day nice weather. We were in major need of a warm getaway, and I remember the sun feeling exceptionally good, despite my wandering mind.
I was, as always, thinking about work, wondering if the last presentation had sealed the deal with a stubborn international client. Those concerns had me checking my email, via BlackBerry, as often as possible.
“What are you doing?” Kelly asked as someone had to weave around me, my nose pointed directly at the mobile screen.
“Just checking my email,” I mumbled in reply, too busy absorbing what I was reading to meet her eyes.
“Don’t worry about your email, Ted. Look! This place is beautiful.” Though the words were true, her voice lacked its usual conviction, and that did make me take notice. I placed an arm around her shoulders, thinking that she really could use the sun. Her face was quite pale.
Then my BlackBerry beeped an alert, and my eyes were back on the small screen.
When we climbed into the back of the car that would take us the rest of the way to the resort, I looked up at Kelly again. She was resting her head against the black leather seat. I poured a drink from the decanter beside me and offered her one. She shook her head ever so slightly, turning the drink down.
“Is there a gym at the resort?” I asked, believing that conversation would help her perk up.
“Yes. You aren’t going to work out this week, are you?” she replied.
“Of course I am. I always do,” I answered. It was an argument that she couldn’t win, so she just shook her head at me, as she often did.
“Try to enjoy the vacation, Ted.”
I chuckled and slid in closer to her. “I will.”
She smiled but still didn’t lift her head.
“Are you okay?” I asked, feeling the warmth of the back of her head seeping into my arm.
“I’m okay. I think I must have gotten motion sickness on the plane.”
I knew that wasn’t the case, and so did she. We had been together for years, and in all the time I knew her, she’d never suffered from motion sickness. A fever took hold of her later that day, and she spent the majority of our time in Mauritius in bed with the flu.
Without my wife to keep me from it, I worked. That’s how I was and what I did. I spent most of our trip using the resort’s Wi-Fi to keep in contact with my colleagues and clients. Many were all too happy to take a trip to the African island to meet with me in person. After all, Kelly was right; the place was beautiful.
A week later, with Kelly feeling much closer to her normal self, though without the tan that she had so hoped for, we boarded a flight headed back to Chicago.
“When do you leave?” she asked as we buckled into our seats.
After taking the requested pillow from the stewardess, I turned to Kelly. “I leave Sunday. Shouldn’t be gone more than four or five days.” I went to Europe on business about every six to eight weeks.
“What time?”
“I’ll have to check the itinerary. Overnight, though. Ten-hour direct flight to London, then on to Luxembourg . . . and I think that’ll be the only other stop this time.”
“That’s good,” she said, accepting a cocktail from the stewardess. A devious grin tugged at her lips as she looked up at me and sank deeper into the airline chair. I watched her take a sip of her drink, and then she set her hand on my arm. “It’s not all bad, you know. Comfy pillows, drinks, snacks. I could get used to flying all of the time.”
I laughed. “Well, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, you know,” I responded, leaning back a little farther in my own chair.
—
That flight to London on the Sunday after we returned from Mauritius was the first of four international flights that I would take in a matter of four days. The final flight of the four was the return trip from London to Chicago on Thursday. On this flight, I was exhausted, which wasn’t like me, and I figured it was just the lack of sleep, jet lag, and being away from home for so long.
“Can I get you anything else, sir?” the stewardess asked after handing me the pillow.
“No, thank you. This’ll be fine. Can you just wake me ten minutes before we land for a cup of coffee, please?” I said.
“Of course, sir. Sleep well.” Whether or not her words had anything to do with it, I can’t say, but I do know that I slept that entire flight. I didn’t wake for the meal, a drink of water, or a trip to the bathroom. “Sir, it’s time to wake up. Sir? I have a cup of coffee for you,” she said in a sweet voice. I smiled in thanks and took a sip of the coffee. I never sleep through an entire flight.
It was Thursday afternoon, and I was checking the incoming emails on my BlackBerry on my way out of the airport when my limo driver called out to me.
“Good afternoon, sir. How was your flight?”
It was then that I noticed that I wasn’t walking right. I found myself limping every four or five steps as I walked over to the limo. “It was fine, thank you.”
“Are you all right, sir?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just tired from the flight,” I answered, further baffled at the fact that, despite the hours of uninterrupted sleep, it was a true statement.
The driver glanced at my leg as I got in. I guess my limp was more obvious than I thought. “Leg is bothering me. Too much time sitting on the plane, I guess,” I said, rubbing it a bit as I sat in the soft leather seat.
The driver didn’t say anything more, and I promptly put the thought out of my mind. There was work to do, and besides, this wasn’t the first time I’d had trouble with my legs. I had long since given up on the idea of having legs free of varicose veins. I had asked several doctors about them and was always told that the noticeable veins in my legs were superficial and not the dangerous kind. Even if I had them stripped, for cosmetic reasons, varicose veins like mine usually come back anyway. Genetics at its finest.
When I arrived home, Kelly greeted me as soon as I walked in the door. “Welcome home,” she said and then gave me a small kiss on my cheek before quickly returning to what she had been doing before I walked in. I watched her make her way to the kitchen. She had laid a stack of my mail on the entry table, like usual, so I grabbed it on my way to my office.
“You’re not going out, are you?” she called from the other room.
“No, I’m going to get these bills paid and get stuff ready for work tomorrow.”
“Do you need help getting unpacked?” she asked, sticking her head into the doorway.
I smiled and shook my head. Even though traveling was part of my routine, she always seemed excited to see me come home. “No, I’ll do it. I’ve got to get my gym bag packed anyway.”
She rolled her eyes and walked away. I knew that most people didn’t work out like I did, but it was a part of my routine that I wasn’t willing to part with. So the next day, like every day, I would wake up by five so I could be in the city by six. That gave me an hour to work out and a few minutes to get cleaned up before I had to be at the office. Kelly laughed at me, but she was health conscious too. We both maintained a healthy diet, didn’t smoke or take recreational drugs, and drank infrequently, in moderation. Physical fitness was a priority for us in life. And for me, not only did it allow me to feel good, but it didn’t hurt my image in business either. I was the picture of good health.
Except, my leg hurt.
The Stroke
When we walked out of our home an hour or so later to get some dinner, Kelly asked me about my leg. “Why are you limping?”
“I’m not limping. My leg . . . it’s just a little sore.” I rubbed it and made a conscious effort to walk naturally. “What do you want to eat?’’
“Sushi okay?”
“Sounds great,” I answered, opening the front door for her.
We arrived at our favorite local sushi restaurant in the next town over and were seated in the dining room.
“Don’t you want a drink?” Kelly asked after the waiter came to take our drink order and I declined anything other than water. Typically, I would have ordered a large hot sake and enjoyed every warming sip with our sushi, as I had done when I lived in Tokyo.
“Not tonight. Just water is fine,” I said.
She looked at me with a funny expression but let it go and told me about how she’d spent her time while I was away, saying once again how much she wished that she hadn’t been sick on our trip. I was happy to keep up the usual stream of conversation, happy to be seated across from her eating the delicious meal, but when the bill came, I quickly pulled out my card and handed it to the waiter. I was ready to go home.
“Would you do me a favor tomorrow?” I asked Kelly as we walked through the front door of our home. “Can you call and schedule me an appointment with my doctor? Just sometime later this month, after your appointment.”
“Are you all right?” she asked. Concern covered her face. “I can try to get you in sooner.” “I’m fine. It’s just that my leg is sore, and sometimes it feels like I’m experiencing growing pains. The doctor will just say the same thing he always does, I’m sure. ‘Don’t worry about the pain. It’s no big deal.’ But it feels worse than usual.” I rubbed my hand over it, and she agreed to make the call for me.
I made my way to our bedroom and sighed as I sank into the couch in the sitting room of our master suite. Kelly laughed and fell back in the chair beside me.
“You’re not going to sleep already, are you? It’s only eight o’clock.”
“Nah. Not yet,” I said groggily, picking up a Men’s Health magazine. I really was tired, but I flipped a few pages until I came to an article of interest. “Look, maybe I should start taking this supplement,” I said, showing her the article.
“You already take a few different ones,” she answered. I pointed to the list of the four supplements men should be taking. I was already taking three of the four
The Apprentice was on, and a few minutes into the show, Kelly asked, “Did you see that commercial?” I picked up the remote and rewound it, thinking again how wonderful TiVo was. I watched the commercial but didn’t respond.
“Did you see that?” she asked again, looking to me, surprised that I didn’t have a comment to make about it. “What’s wrong? Don’t you think that’s funny?”
I didn’t respond. I realized I couldn’t respond. Suddenly, I couldn’t get my mouth to form any words. I was extremely light-headed, and I began to shiver. I felt pain in my head like a really bad migraine but something I had never experienced before. I couldn’t say anything, and nothing made any sense.
“C’mon, Ted. It was funny, and you know it. It wasn’t that bad.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. I was too busy almost dying.
Used with permission from Greenleaf Book Group Press.
Trailer
About the Author
After spending 22 years in the financial industry, Ted W. Baxter retired as a global finance executive with a large hedge investment firm based in Chicago. Prior to that, Ted was a managing director for a global investment bank and he was a Price Waterhouse partner and a consultant concentrated on banks and securities, risk management, financial products, and strategic planning. Internationally, he spent 6 years working and living in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
Ted now resides in Newport Beach, CA where he volunteers at several health related institutions and hospitals in Orange County, leading groups in a stroke-related communication recovery program, and is a member of the Board of Directors at the American Heart and Stroke Association.
Sarah and her twin brother Jon are heirs to an ancient magical realm and its most valuable treasure, an enchanted library. The library endows readers with the supernatural means of crossing into the uncharted inner-sanctum of the second dimension, inhabited with peculiar and sometimes perilous creatures.
The children are emboldened with a wondrous mystical gift that no other being has ever possessed. But fate intervenes and triggers a disastrous inter-dimensional war that disrupts the fabric of time and space spanning multiple universes, tearing destiny a new and savage pathway.
The two must rescue their world from a phantom hybrid alien race controlled by a demented dark-wizard, Jeremy Sermack. They will either assimilate or be exterminated.
Will they be the saviors the prophets spoke of, or will they retreat to the perceived safety of their distant homeland?
People that enjoy fantasy novels just might like this one as it has all sorts of magical beings and a mystery to boot.
The story starts off and we follow Sarah and Jon and a visit to the grandparents. They are intrigued with the farm and everyone that lives there and learn that the dog likes pickles! They are quickly exposed to magical beings and some magic. It is implied that they hold a lot of magical powers themselves but were not raised in that world, so their learning curve is quite steep. I do not remember how old they are (young, perhaps 12ish?) and I would have thought they would be more inquisitive about magic and what they can do, but it is like everyone wanted to hold that information back from the kids.
And then there is the book that has been hidden on the farm thanks to Grandpa’s habit of taking items of interest to him. We are offered a glimpse into the book and its potential powers, but it isn’t really full explained but perhaps that is because no one can read the text?
I felt the like book moved along smoothly for about 2/3 and then it went a bit haywire for me. Many characters were introduced and the library is being inundated with magic from books and evil beings. The story moves quickly, but perhaps too quickly and I felt like there wasn’t a good flow. I’m not sure I really understood what was going on with all the characters and Sarah and Jon were not given a strong introduction to their magic that they could have assisted with what was happening in the library.
The story ends but I don’t think everything is wrapped up (at least not to my liking) so I wonder if there is going to be another book to continue the story?
We give this 3 paws up and this series (if it is a series) has some great potential.
About the Author
Mark was born number seven of eight children in a small town in Ohio. His family moved to Florida where he grew up, met an incredible woman, got married and raised four fantastic children, three boys, and a girl.
Many years later an empty nest left him to his true calling, storytelling. His first remarkable story is about a heroine whose courage and unrestrained personality, like his daughters, breathes passion and fervor into this adrenaline packed fantastical story.
For the young, rich, and beautiful, summertime in the Hamptons means one thing: Fling Club. Only this time, Cherry Kennedy won’t be selecting a boy for a fleeting romance. Nope, this season, Cherry is out for revenge. Her target? The Fling Club founder and society darling who slept with Cherry’s now-very-ex-boyfriend. And all Cherry needs is the perfect guy for her plan… Ashley Jardine can’t afford to refuse. He scored almost a full ride to MIT. But that almost still costs a lot. And this is so much money for a little game of revenge and a chance—albeit short—to live the high life. Here, rich girls rule the shore, and everyone has a role to play. Only nothing in the job description warned Ashley that the redhead who’s running the scheme would be so crazy. And cute. Or that he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about her. Now, everything is going according to plan—until an unexpected attraction raises the stakes. It’s enough to turn the perfect payback into absolute heartbreak.
Fling Club Inspirations by Tara Brown
My book releasing is Fling Club, sort of like Fight Club but with romance.
The fabulous main characters are Cherry and Ashley, an unlikely match. It’s opposites attract to the extreme. Cherry is a spoiled rich girl with a serious problem, how to get revenge on the mean girl ruining her life. And Ashley is a sexy, geeky MIT scholarship student who doesn’t fit in her world. He doesn’t even want to. He can’t stand the rich elite and makes no bones about sharing that opinion.
Cherry’s from a rich family and went to school at a private, well known academy where the expectations from parents are demanding. She is demure and reliable, a doormat like most of her friends. Letting parents and guys take the lead in their lives.
After summers of the boys running the shore and parents ruling their lives, the girls decided to take back the power. One girl in particular. She created Fling Club, a fun way to control the dating and socializing the young women were expected to participate in. The head mean girl who runs it, Cait, is every young woman’s nightmare. Controlling, conniving, and completely self-centered. If you have a social life and friends, it’s because Cait allowed it. She has all the parents and every guy on the shore fooled, while all the young women are terrified of crossing her.
When Cherry catches Cait in bed with her boyfriend, the fake friendship is off just as the summer is beginning, meaning Cherry has to come up with a plan for revenge against her frenemy.
With the help of her sarcastic and judgmental brother, Andy, and her pessimistic and evil genius sister, Ella, Cherry is about to wreak havoc on Fling Club, and Cait.
This is where Ashley comes into the plan. He is the bait. Sexy, funny, sarcastic, and just arrogant enough that they don’t have to worry about him falling for Cait while she is falling for him. But after a couple weeks together, the plan is threatened when Ashley and Cherry start falling for each other.
He desperately wants Cherry to see that she is so much more than she pretends to be, and that fitting into her world isn’t worth the price she is paying.
And once she starts seeing herself the way he does, she realizes how much she hates the person she has always pretended to be.
Fling Club, which used to be called The Exception to the Summer Fling, is an old story I wrote a decade ago but never published. It came to me when I was driving. I was crossing North America, moving from the West Coast to the East for my husband’s work in 2008. My girls were watching movies in the backseat, kid’s movies. So I got to listen to that the entire six day drive.
I don’t even remember the movie they were watching, I think it was a Barbie movie, maybe Princess and the Pauper, but it got me envisioning the moment Cait marched back and forth in front of the new recruits, cruelly telling them the rules of the summer fling club. (Being a HUGE fan of Cruel Intentions and Gossip Girl, of course I already had a stable of possible plots for mean rich girls.)
The story really formed when I got Cait down in my head, thanks to the long drive and the kids movies.
Cait needed to be that sweet and powerful girl the parents would respect and want their daughters to emulate. But she also needed to be terrifying and controlling so the girls went along with whatever she demanded of them. Even if it was disturbing. Of course, Cait is similar to Kathryn from Cruel Intentions, she is calculating and cold. Almost sociopathic in her nature. But I decided to spin the story a little and make our poor little victim, her equal in social rank.
Cherry might be the weaker link at the start of this story, but she comes from a good family with a lot of money. And as the story progressed she evolved from the damsel in distress who can’t cope with anything into a strong young woman. I wanted her to be victim of the story but then I also wanted her to be the savior. Her own savior. I like that love helped her find herself, but she needed to do the work.
I think we nailed that, and the way the characters are meant to make you hate them. I wanted the readers’ feelings to grow and change as the characters did.
Cait is unbearably horrible and yet somehow relatable once we have all the facts. Cherry is weak and pathetic to start but grows into someone we liked in the end. And we made the bad guy someone you didn’t expect.
I love the idea that there is an underbelly in the wealthy world, a place we don’t see because they hide it from us. And I adore the meet cute we have created for the entire series of standalone novels, the Post-it Note Wall.
Welcome to the Serendipity Series, starting with Fling Club.
Excerpt
I called my brother. “Hey, Cherry. Look, I can’t talk—”
“Cait’s sleeping with Griffin,” I blurted out, cutting off whatever excuse he was about to make.
“What? Who?” It took him half a second to connect the dots. “Seriously? How do you know?”
“I just caught them.” My words had turned to a whisper. I was ashamed of my former friends for betraying me, and of myself for having been so naive. I knew Andy would call me stupid and tell me I deserved what I got for dating a Griffin, and that I was a sheeple like Mom and Cait, and—
“Oh, Cherry. I’m so sorry. Neither of those asshats deserves you.”
That reaction, I didn’t expect. Andy’s kindness broke me. Angry tears flooded my eyes, and before I could help it, I was blubbering and ranting in front of a platform full of strangers. I’d called Andy because I needed his sarcasm to toughen me up and put me on the defensive. I needed to be strong, like him. But instead he gave me tenderness, something I couldn’t handle at the moment.
“You’re lovely and sweet and kind. And you would never do something like that to anyone. Not even an enemy. I’ll come get you; tell me where you are.”
“I—I’m going home. I’m at the train. I feel sick.” My words were coming out in gasps.
“Screw them both. Let them have each other. I never liked that idiot. He’s like Mom and Cait. He thinks his blue blood earns him the right to everything—clearly. They’re selfish people, Cherry. Selfish and stupid and blind. I’m glad he showed his true colors before you got too invested in him.”
Not wanting Andy to know I was as invested as I could be, I stayed silent while he shouted and ranted all the things big brothers said to sad little sisters. “I should beat the piss outta him! Want me to kick his ass? I’ll go find a couple of friends and we can make sure he doesn’t show up for—”
“No.” I sniffled. “I just—” What did I want?
“Listen. Go home and take a hot bath, drink a bottle of wine, and try to get some sleep. I’ll come get you in a week. We’ll go to New York and get trashed, and you—”
“Sleep!” I snapped, finally losing the hold I had on my ferocity. “You think I could sleep right now? I’m not Mom, Andy. I can’t just take something and coast through shit like this.”
“Okay, don’t sleep. Try eating a whole sheet cake and plotting their deaths. They aren’t worth the energy you’re putting into being pissed off. I’ve never understood how you were friends with her. Or part of her club. Which, by the way, she only started because Wendell cheated on her with that chick from Derby. It’s ironic, because then she turns around and does this to you.”
“Andy, I don’t care why she started it,” I groaned, wiping my eyes. “I don’t care that someone cheated on her in high school. I care that she’s currently sleeping with my boyfriend—”
“Cherry, take a breath. If you’re crying, you’re losing it.”
I heaved, realizing I was blind with rage and tears.
“If you can’t get past this with a simple cake, then I don’t know what to say. If I ever make the mistake of falling in love again, it’ll be with some girl in a different financial bracket. This is why we don’t date our kind.”
“Yeah, great advice now!” I spit my words, feeling the fury building.
“Don’t lose control! You’re in public, and you’re a Kennedy for God’s sake. We don’t lose it in front of strangers. Plus, you’ll be upset you didn’t cry in the shower like a winner.”
“Shut up!” I hated him sometimes.
“Cherry, getting upset and ruining your summer is pointless; you’re the only one who suffers. They’ll win. They’ll ruin your last summer before college is over and the real world hits. Don’t let them do that to you.”
“What should I do then?” I burst again, sobbing.
“I don’t know. Maybe take her down. Get revenge. Just whatever you do, don’t go back to that moron, Chatsworth.”
“I won’t.” I sighed. “I can’t talk about this anymore. I’ll text you later.”
“Trust me, eat the cake. It will make you feel better. Do that before you do anything else. My friend Angela swears by it.” He laughed bitterly and hung up.
But I didn’t focus on the cake or the bath or the wine. My mind was stuck on the one thing Andy had said that was useful, on repeat.
Get revenge.
And I would.
About the Author
The international bestselling author of Roommates and the Puck Buddies series, Tara Brown writes in a variety of genres. In addition to her comedic Single Lady Spy series, she has also published popular contemporary and paranormal romances, science fiction, thrillers, and romantic comedies. She especially enjoys writing dark and moody tales, often focusing on strong female characters who are more inclined to vanquish evil than perpetrate it. She shares her home with her husband, two daughters, two cats, an Irish wolfhound, and a Maremma Sheepdog.
An Earl mired in melancholy is no match for a determined woman…
Widower Benjamin Romilly, Earl of Furness, has given up hope of finding happiness. His wife died in childbirth five years ago, leaving him with a broken heart and a child who only reminds him of his loss.
Miss Jean Saunders is a cousin by marriage. She doted on Benjamin’s late Countess, and can’t bear it when she hears rumors that the Earl is too bereaved to care for his young son. She arrives on the scene to evaluate his fitness as a father, and if necessary, to take his son away.
Jean’s sudden eruption into the Earl’s household simultaneously infuriates and invigorates him. She may be the only person who can breathe life into his neglected home—and his aching heart…
Excerpt
Toward the far end of the attic, Jean came upon a row of leather trunks bound in brass. Resettling her lamp securely, she opened the first. The scent of camphor wafted out at her. Pushing aside a layer of tissue paper, she unearthed a swath of satin brocade in an exquisite shade of peach. Although the fashion of another era, it was one of the loveliest gowns she’d ever seen.
There was no one around, and she was so tired of the few outfits she had with her. She couldn’t resist. She slipped off her much plainer gown, placing it out of the dust on a sheet of tissue, and slithered her way into the peach creation.
The dress was a bit large on her. Fortunately, it laced up the side so she could reach to pull it tighter, but the shoulders still threatened to slip off. Her shift and stays showed above the low neckline, and without the elaborate underpinnings such a garment required, the skirt sagged around her in heavy folds. Even so, she felt very grand.
“Very elegant,” said an appreciative male voice.
Jean whirled and nearly lost the dress. She frowned at Lord Furness, who stood near the head of the attic stair, as she pushed the shoulders back into place. “What are you doing here?”
“This is my house.”
“Yes, but you went riding.”
“And I returned.” Benjamin strolled toward his disheveled houseguest. In his ancestress’s gown, Miss Saunders was an unsettling combination of little girl playing dress-up and lush courtesan, with her clothes falling off and her curling hair making a determined break for freedom.
She gathered the heavy skirts and retreated to a rank of trunks a little distance away. “I was just… I’ll put on my own gown.”
Benjamin walked a bit closer.
“If you will go away.”
“But I came up to help you look for toys for Geoffrey.” It was an increasing delight to tease her. There was something so charming about the look she got, which said she knew precisely what he was up to and refused to stoop to acknowledge it. And yet she couldn’t help but react.
“I haven’t found any.”
“Only a hoard of finery.” Benjamin walked along the row of trunks and glanced inside them. He picked up a satin coat. “I think I remember my grandfather wearing something like this, with lots of lace at his shirtfront. Perhaps it was this very coat.” He held it up and looked closer. “I’m not sure. He died when I was around Geoffrey’s age.” He smiled at his disheveled companion. “Grandpapa didn’t care much for change at the last. Or for what people thought of his appearance. He wore what he liked.” Geoffrey would have appreciated that attitude, Benjamin thought. “He had a dueling scar across his cheek.” His hand went to his own face to demonstrate. “A bit puckered and quite frightening, as I recall. They don’t seem to go together—all this frippery and bloody sword work.”
“I imagine gentlemen took off their coats when dueling,” replied Miss Saunders.
Benjamin laughed.
“You should try it on,” she added in an odd tone.
He looked at her, hands clutching the brocade bodice to keep it from sliding off, a beam of sunlight shining through the uninhibited glory of her hair. Holding her gaze, Benjamin slowly took off his coat. “No wigs,” he said. “I draw the line there.”
“I haven’t found any,” she answered breathily.
He donned the bright satin garment. It fit well enough, only a little tight in the shoulders. It felt strange to have wide skirts around his legs. He made an elaborate bow. “Pon rep, my lady, I am so pleased to see you. I hope I find you in better health?”
“What do you mean, better?”
Benjamin straightened. “I’ve been concerned about you since—”
“I’m fine,” she interrupted. “My…outburst in the library was quite uncharacteristic, I assure you. It won’t happen again.”
“No apology is necessary.”
“I wasn’t apologizing.” Coppery glints snapped in the depths of her eyes. “Only informing you that all is well.”
He didn’t believe her, though he couldn’t have said why. Her bearing and expression were calm, her manner quelling. Clearly, she didn’t want to talk about the bout of weeping, and he had no right to press her. Why should he wish to? “I don’t know how ladies moved about in those gowns.” He indicated the sweep of peach brocade trailing over the floorboards.
“With stately elegance,” she replied.
“That is to say, very slowly. Have you seen the sort of shoes they wore? Teetering along on four-inch heels must have made it hard to run away.”
“From what?” she asked with a quizzical glance.
“Anything.” Benjamin had spoken randomly. All his attention was on her, leaving his tongue unsupervised. “Bears.”
“Bears?” She laughed.
It was a delightful sound. Benjamin realized he hadn’t heard it nearly often enough. Irresistibly drawn, he stepped closer. “Or impertinent admirers.”
“The gentlemen wore heels, too,” Miss Saunders said. “So it would have been an equal race, mincing along the cobblestones in a satin-draped procession.”
She looked up at him, still smiling. Her eyes were suffused with warmth now, her lips a little parted, and Benjamin couldn’t help himself. He moved closer still and kissed her.
Just a brush of his mouth on hers, an errant impulse. He pulled back at once.
She leaned forward and returned the favor, as if purely in the spirit of experiment. Benjamin felt a startling shudder of desire.
In the next moment, she’d twined her arms around his neck, and they were kissing as if their lives depended on it. He buried his fingers in her hair, as he’d been longing to do for days. It sprang free and tumbled over his hands, a glorious profusion of curls. Hairpins rained onto the attic floor.
Then she pulled back and blinked at him, her eyes wide, dark pools. Her arms dropped to her sides. She took a step away, and another. “Oh.”
The small sound was a breath, a worry, an astonishment. Benjamin struggled with his arousal, glad now of the long, concealing coat.
Miss Saunders put her hands to her wild crown of hair. The lovely lines of her body were outlined in peach brocade and sunlight. “Oh dear.”
“I could help pin it up, if you like.” Benjamin bent and gathered a handful of hairpins.
“No, you couldn’t.”
He gave her the pins. “I have a deft hand,” he said.
“My hair is beyond deftness. It has to be wrestled into submission.”
He nearly lost his careful control at the phrase and the thoughts it elicited. “I have strong fingers.”
About the Author
Jane Ashford discovered Georgette Heyer in junior high school and was captivated by the glittering world and witty language of Regency England. That delight was part of what led her to study English literature and travel widely in Britain and Europe. She has written historical and contemporary romances, and her books have been published in Sweden, Italy, England, Denmark, France, Russia, Latvia, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, and Spain, as well as the United States. Jane has been nominated for a Career Achievement Award by RT Book Reviews. She lives in Beverly Hills, CA.
The Golden Plates is an illustrated adaptation of the fifth best selling book of all time, The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ, which has sold over 120 million copies. This graphic novel/comic book adaptation was first created in 2005 by award winning artist Michael Allred. The Premium Edition has replaced the full text originally included in the first edition with simplified and edited text, making the story easier for younger readers to follow and also showcasing more of the stunning artwork. It has also been converted to digital form for enjoyment on phones, tablets, and desktop devices through Amazon, iTunes, and Kobo. New printed editions have also been released through Amazon.
The first 6 issues cover the first 145 pages (27%) of the Book of Mormon, from 1st Nephi through the Words of Mormon. This adaptation is a fun and enthralling to way to help older children and teens understand and enjoy the Book of Mormon in a format more advanced than simplified children’s stories or scripture readers meant for young children.
Chuck Waldron is the author of four riveting mystery, thriller and suspense novels and more than fifty short stories. Inspired by his grandfather’s tales of the Ozark Mountains and local caves rumored to be havens for notorious gangsters, Waldron was destined to write about crime and the human condition. Those childhood legends ignited his imagination and filled his head with unforgettable characters, surprising plots and a keen interest in supernatural and historical subplots.
Ricki Sheridan traveled a long way to seek refuge at Wolf Den’s Lodge high in the mountains after a devastating betrayal. Heartbroken, she signed up for a survivalist backpacking trip to live off the land and forget.
About the Author
About the Author
About the Author
About the Author
