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Release Blitz: The Ice Duchess by Tracy Sumner

22 Thursday Jul 2021

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Prequel to the Duchess Society Series

Regency Romance, Steamy Historical Romance

Release Date: July 22, 2021



A scandalous countess plays matchmaker…for a man she once longed to take for herself.

Georgiana Whitcomb, Countess Winterbourne, is known as the Ice Countess for her rebellious ways and refusal to marry again. But a scandalous Christmas wager fashioned by Georgiana’s childhood obsession changes everything.

The demanding duke needs a bride…

Dexter Munro, mere days from becoming the Duke of Markham, made a promise to his dying father to find a wife by the Twelfth Night. Except the only woman he’s ever desired has vowed never to marry again. Not even to become his duchess.

Georgiana and Dex share a sizzling attraction and a wicked past…but is their scorching passion enough to melt the Ice Countess’ heart?

If you adore sexy Dukes, feisty Duchesses, and a steamy second-chance romance set in the magnificent Regency era, The Ice Duchess is the romance novel for you!



Excerpt

Chapter One

A boisterous Derbyshire manor where neither hero nor heroine want to be…

December 21, 1820

It couldn’t be, but she knew it was.

Georgiana stood in a shadowed recess beneath the imperial staircase gracing Buxton Hall’s entrance, a beaded reticule dangling forgotten from her wrist, her breath trapped between her lungs and her lips. The fragrances of the season—frankincense, cinnamon, roast goose—swirled, and she closed her eyes, hoping, praying…

But when she opened them, Dexter Reed Munro, the Marquess of Westfield, mere days from becoming the Duke of Markham if the rumor was correct, stood on the lowest step of the flight across from her, his expression amused, his head tilted as if someone had told a joke and he was considering whether to laugh.

When one yearned to hear that laugh.

A horde of fluttering, preening admirers surrounded him, and his smile, polite but winsome, looked so authentic they’d no idea he was soundly rejecting them. She could spot a fake right off. And, heavens, did she recognize the Munro brand of rejection.

He doesn’t care for society, she’d love to tell the flock.

He only cares for his bloody rocks.


About The Author

Award-winning author Tracy Sumner’s storytelling career began when she picked up a historical romance on a college beach trip, and she fondly blames LaVyrle Spencer for her obsession with the genre. She’s a recipient of the National Reader’s Choice, and her novels have been translated into Dutch, German, Portuguese and Spanish. She lived in New York, Paris and Taipei before finding her way back to the Lowcountry of South Carolina.

When not writing sizzling love stories about feisty heroines and their temperamental-but-entirely-lovable heroes, Tracy enjoys reading, snowboarding, college football (Go Tigers!), yoga, and travel. She loves to hear from romance readers!


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Release Blitz and Giveaway: Kenyan Sundowner by Gerald Everett Jones

29 Tuesday Jun 2021

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A Novel

Literary Fiction

Date Published: 6/29/2021

Publisher: La Puerta Productions



Intrigue on the white sands of the Indian Ocean. From the award-winning author of Clifford’s Spiral.

A lonely widower from Los Angeles buys a tour package to East Africa on the promise of hookups and parties. What he finds instead are new reasons to live.

Aldo Barbieri, a slick Italian tour operator, convinces Harry to join a group of adventuresome “voluntourists.” In a resort town on the Indian Ocean, Harry doesn’t find the promised excitement with local ladies. But in the supermarket he meets Esther Mwemba, a demure widow who works as a bookkeeper. The attraction is strong and mutual, but Harry gets worried when he finds out that Esther and Aldo have a history. They introduce him to Victor Skebelsky, rumored to be the meanest man in town. Skebelsky has a plan to convert his grand colonial home and residential compound into a rehab center – as a tax dodge. The scheme calls for Harry to head up the charity. He could live like a wealthy diplomat and it won’t cost him a shilling!

Harry has to come to terms with questions at the heart of his character: Is corruption a fact of life everywhere? Is all love transactional?

Harry Harambee’s Kenyan Sundowner is an emotional story of expat intrigue in Africa, reminiscent of The Heart of the Matter by Graham Greene and The Constant Gardener by John le Carré.

Praise for Clifford’s Spiral (Independent Press Awards 2020 Distinguished Favorite in Literary Fiction)

We’ve seen and noted the comparison of this author by other reviewers to literary giants like Roth and Vonnegut. And we can’t disagree. Yet we feel there may be yet another strata for Gerald Everett Jones, who arguably is doing the best work of his career. We predict that he lacks only a mention in the The New York Review of Books or, better yet, Oprah, to become a nationwide best-selling author. Five-plus stars to Clifford’s Spiral, a true literary novel if ever there was one. We say in all seriousness that if you only read one novel this year, this should be it. – Don Sloan, Publishers Daily Reviews

Preacher Finds a Corpse (NYC Big Book Awards 2020 Winner in Mystery, IPA 2020 Distinguished Favorite in Mystery, Eric Hoffer 2020 Finalist in Mystery)

This is literature masquerading as a mystery. Carefully yet powerfully, Gerald Jones creates a small, stunning world in a tiny midwestern town, infusing each character with not just life but wit, charm, and occasionally menace. This is the kind of writing one expects from John Irving or Jane Smiley.

– Marvin J. Wolf, author of the Rabbi Ben Mysteries, including A Scribe Dies in Brooklyn.



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Release Blitz: In The Eye of the Beholder by Maggie Mooha

17 Thursday Jun 2021

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Victorian Romance, Historical Romance

Release Date: June 17, 2021

Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group



THE TRUE BEAUTY

Intellectual, frank, and outspoken, Eleanor Sherbrook is everything a Victorian lady should not be. Her sister Julia is a stunning beauty who can have anyone she sets her sights on – and she sets them on the man Eleanor loves: the gallant and handsome Lieutenant Joshua Griffiths Wentworth.

Brokenhearted, Eleanor leaves England to become a nurse at the infamous British Army hospital in Scutari, Turkey near where Joshua is mired in war. As a member of the ill-fated Light Brigade, he and his comrades make the charge into the Valley of Death.

Thrown together, and forced to face cruelty and loss in a war-torn land, Eleanor and Joshua’s bond grows deeper every day. The folly and glory of the Crimean War forever changes them as they struggle to find a love strong enough to emerge from the ashes of their shared ordeal.



About the Author

I’ve always been a storyteller. When I was little, I used to tell my sister stories before we went to sleep. Most of them were serials – Superman and the like. It never occurred to me until much later in life that I should try my hand at writing.

Most of my career, I’ve been a music teacher. I’ve found music such a help when crafting a story. I actually see the structure of a book as if it was a musical composition. As for the nuts and bolts of my life, I grew up in the Chicago area and was a teacher there for quite a few years. I had a chance to teach at an international school in Tanzania, and spent two years there. After adopting my son, we spent four years at an international school in the Philippines. During that time, I began writing. Now I live in the western US.

Most of my work has been screenplays. Over the years, I’ve won or placed well in competitions. I’m telling you this so you don’t think I sat down one day and wrote a novel out of the blue. I’ve spent many years working and learning.

A long time ago someone called me “an insatiable romantic.” I hope that’s still true.


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Release Blitz: The Dark Lord by Allie McCormack

17 Thursday Jun 2021

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When Darkness Falls, Book 2

Paranormal Romance, Fantasy Romance, Vampire Romance

Release Date: June 17, 2021



Book 2 of a sweeping romantic saga in a medieval Arabian Nights type setting

Held captive in the Catacombs, Alyssa struggles with coming to terms with the loss of the life she had made for herself in the palace. She also has to learn how to deal with her strange magical powers that everyone but her seems to know she has. And she has to find a way to accept her new life with the ancient vampire who insists that she is his… but doesn’t seem to know what to do with her.

Lord Damien never thought to have a human woman in his life, and this one baffles him. He doesn’t understand his own need for her, but knows only that he must have her, at any cost. He had been prepared for anger and recriminations, but Alyssa surprises him with her determination to accept her new life, as well as her unexpected compassion and humor.

*Please Note, this is a trilogy! Books 1 & 2 have cliffhangers and are not meant to be read out of order.



Excerpt

Chapter 9 – The Craft Hall

Some distance from the city, Damien paused, holding up one hand. “We glamour,” he stated. “Until we reach the Craft Hall.”

Gabrielle and Kayja complied, a faint shimmering disturbing the early morning desert air as all three cast the small spell that would cloak them from untrained eyes. The sun wasn’t yet above the horizon, the days already shortening with the oncoming of fall. Damien focused his attention to the East, storm clouds gathering, building at his command, delaying the effects of the sun on himself and Gabrielle. Kayja, pure demon, was unaffected by the sun’s rising. Damien, with his demon father’s blood, could tolerate the sun until it was fully above the horizon, but Gabrielle would be susceptible to the sun’s influence much more quickly.

They reached the city, moving swiftly past through the lines of those waiting to enter through the huge gates. Passing unseen, the trio headed into the heart of the lower city, Damien leading them unhesitatingly toward the Craft Hall. He knew this city, every block, every stone. He had been here when it was a walled village. Had walked the construction at night as the city was built, the palace towering above all. There was no corner, no shadow, that he did not know.

Most of the shops and stalls were closed tight still, aside from a few stalls dispensing tea and thick bitter coffee, and flat bread with beans and fried balls of ground grain and herbs to early workers. The craftsmen, however, would already be up and working in their high-ceilinged hall deep within the city.

Indeed, the wide double doors of the Craft Hall were open, workers within milling about on various tasks. Standing just within the doors, Damien and his companions shimmered into sight of those nearby. There were startled gasps, then a wave of rippling murmurs, followed by silence, spread through the hall as craftsmen, journeymen and apprentices turned toward the great doors. The tension in the suddenly quiet hall was palpable. There was stirring, shifting of a group at one side of the room, and a man emerged, approaching the trio at the entrance. He was stockily built, with graying hair framing a lined face. Sharp, intelligent eyes held a wary defiance; not outright hostility, but Damien sensed little flashes of anger from the man, who wore a Master’s badge on one shoulder.

“He knows your little human,” Kayja spoke on their private pathway. “I see her in his mind, his concern for her well-being.”

Damien gave a tiny, barely discernible inclination of his head, acknowledging her words.

The Craft Master came to a halt some few feet from them, bending at the waist in a slight bow.

“My Lord Damien.”

“Craft Master Ahmed.”

Damien suppressed his amusement as the man started in surprise. He was Lord over these lands. Of course he knew all those who rose to prominence. Craft Masters, even prominent journeymen who were rising swiftly in the ranks; he made it his business to know everything in this city.

The man made a swift recovery, schooling his face to express polite inquiry. “How may we help you, Lord?”

Again Damien sensed that flash of anger from the man, swiftly suppressed.

“We have come for furnishings,” Damien told him, his gaze drifting about the spacious circular hall, sectioned into areas… tables, chairs, beds and divans, lounges, lamps, screens. He brought his eyes back to the Craft Master. “You are acquainted with the young Scribe from the palace?”

A swift startled murmur swept the room, starting with those in earshot who passed word to those nearby. Relief crept into Master Ahmed’s face, and some of the rigidity left his stance.

“Alyssa? Indeed, I know her well. All of us do,” and he made a gesture with his right arm, indicating the room at large. “She… she is alive, Lord? She is well?”

A rush of impatience swept him. “Of course she is alive,” he retorted. “What did you think I was going to do, eat her?”

Absolute silence. His lips tightened in exasperation. Obviously, they had. Humans! His stern gaze swept them all, meeting their eyes, commanding their attention.

“Do you truly believe,” and he raised his voice so that all in the hall could hear him. “That Zahira, your Sultana, would have permitted me to carry off one of her Court… indeed, any citizen of this city… without being assured that no harm would come to her? You do your Sultana a great disservice in this. Zahira would have gone to war, rather. She insisted upon, and received, my promise that no harm of any kind would come to the girl. She was prepared to risk outright war, had I not given her my word on this.”

The silence continued as the last echoes of his voice faded, then shifting and movement as the men and women returned to their various duties. Noises began to fill the hall…. sanding, pounding, hammering. Damien turned back to the Craft Master. The man was smiling, his relief almost palpable.

“What is it you would wish to see, Lord?”

Kayja stepped forward at this point. Her tail was twitching, to the apparent bemusement of a nearby apprentice, a boy barely into his teens who’d apparently never seen a demon before, from his fascinated stare. “We need furnishings for Alyssa. A bed to start. A clothing press. Tables, chairs. These will be delivered to the Temple in the desert.”

Ahmed nodded thoughtfully, gesturing them to an area across the hall. “This way my Lord, Ladies,” he added a bit doubtfully, with a glance at Kayja’s red skin, her curved, pointed black horns and shiny black hooves.

“This is excellent,” Kayja all but purred on their private pathway. “The human’s mind is already full of what he calls extras to include with the delivery, for Alyssa’s comfort. At no additional charge.”

“I can see his thoughts for myself,” Damien reminded her in some exasperation. Kayja huffed, her horned head tossing irritably.

They stopped before a display room, set back off the main hall, filled with bedroom furnishings. There were massive, carved poster beds, and simpler lounges and chaises. Gabrielle stopped before one, a pretty, low bed with soft sheets and a light throw, topped with several pillows. She leaned down to poke experimentally at the mattress, testing its firmness.

“What about this?”

“No.” His refusal was instantaneous. Ahmed had moved off to point out to Kayja a monstrosity of a bed with heavy wooden posts carved with fantastic animals, sure to appeal to the demon. Maybe he should have brought Aleksei instead. He turned to Gabrielle, leaning close to murmur. “It’s very similar to her bed in her tower room, in the palace. I don’t want it to be a constant reminder to her.”

As he straightened, his eye was caught by a burst of colors across the way. He moved toward the bed that had caught his eye. It was a combination piece, clearly designed for multiple uses as lounge, bed or sofa. A carved wood base rested on wood legs that rose high to support a flat lattice work above, like a canopy. The mattress was low and large, covered in bright turquoise damask. Gracefully carved spindles rose from the base to a smoothly polished banister, framing the bed on three sides, a warm backdrop for an array of colorful cushions, embroidered and sequined, propped against the supporting spindles.

He was aware of his sister and Gabrielle joining him, Ahmed at a respectful distance.

Gabrielle pursed her lips thoughtfully. “It looks more suited to a patio perhaps, or a balcony, than to a cave.”

Kayja glanced her way. “He already has a stone crypt that’s perfectly suited to a cave. That’s why we’re here.”

“True.”

“It’s suited to Alyssa,” Damien stated, his tone brooking no argument. “That’s what is important.”

“Indeed, my Lord, I think she would love this,” Ahmed concurred. “It would certainly brighten a… a cave,” he glanced at Kayja standing beside him. “If that is your purpose, this would do well. And Alyssa loves the jewel tones. Always, the jewel tones are what draws her. There is a chest for clothing that would go well with this. The workmen could put together a grouping to match, it would take perhaps a day or two, no more. Floor cushions, a chaise lounge. A mirror set into a mashrabiyya frame.” He warmed to his theme. “We could create an inlaid table using the same wood, the spindles, and inlay the top with hues to pick up the colors from the cushions.”

Damien nodded decisively. “Bring this bed and the chest, and whatever else you have made now, to the Temple by mid-day. Then the rest as it is completed.”

Ahmed bowed low, far different from the stiff, polite gesture he’d offered when they had first arrived. The man exuded good will.

“It shall be done, Lord.” He paused. “If you would send some of your human servants to the city, Lord, the bed will need to be disassembled to transport. We will show them how to put it back together again.”

Leaving the Craft Hall, they again assumed a glamour. Gabrielle hurried for the distant Catacombs, using the preternatural speed of the vampire to outrun the rays of the sun, rising swiftly now above the mountains to the east. Damien, his demon blood making him less susceptible, took longer in following, strolling leisurely through the streets with Kayja as they made their way to the great gates of the city and then taking flight for the longer distance to the mountains.

Entering the Catacombs, Damien made his way to the Great Hall, ringing the bell that summoned the khadam and the other human servants not immediately in service to the vampire they looked to as Liege.

His indifferent gaze scanned the humans gathered before him. “A number of pieces of furnishings are being delivered to the Temple later this morning. At least two males are needed for the heavier pieces. Also I need one of you to visit the Woodworkers Craft Hall in the city for instruction in assembling the parts.”

Instantly two men stepped forward, and several women. One, a bubbly, rounded redhead, jiggled in place, seemingly excited.

“Is it for Alyssa?” she asked, apparently flushed with excitement. “Is it a surprise?”

He turned his full gaze on her, little red lights flickering in his eyes. Fangs extending, he snarled at her. She gulped, visibly paling, and the humans closest to him fell back a step, watching him warily.

Not deigning to answer the woman, he turned on his heel, stalking away to his private chambers, where Alyssa still lay deeply asleep, faint smudges beneath her eyes. The sleep of exhaustion. He stood looking down on her. Yesterday had been difficult for her. He must remember she was mortal, and young. He reached down to stroke her hair, his fingers slipping through the short, silky strands.

A surprise. The idiot woman’s words came back to him. As if. He was no fairytale prince. And yet… an image arose in his mind’s eye. Alyssa’s eyes alight, her gasp of delight, her radiant smile as she saw the furnishings.

He straightened, turning away, dismissing the notion with a flick of his hands. He was vampire. Demon. An ancient. He had no place in his world for such human nonsense. And yet the image could not quite be dispelled, lingering in the back of his mind.



Other Books in the When Darkness Falls Trilogy

When Darkness Falls Book I: The Palace

Released: June 3, 2021


When Darkness Falls Book III: The Prophecy

Release Date: July 1, 2021

Amazon


About the Author

A former career medical transcriptionist and disabled Veteran, Allie McCormack is now writing from home full-time. Allie has traveled quite a bit and lived many places all over the U.S., and also a year in Cairo, Egypt as an exchange student, and a year in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia under contract to a hospital there, plus a short stint with NATO while she was in the Army. Allie now lives in the beautiful southern California with her family and her two rescue cats.

Allie says: “A writer is who and what I am… a romance writer. I write what I know, and what I know is romance. Dozens of story lines and literally hundreds of characters live and breathe within the not-so-narrow confines of my imagination, and it is my joy and privilege to bring them to life, to share them with others by writing their stories.”


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Release Blitz and Giveaway: I Hear The Black Raven by Claire Ishi Ayetoro

17 Thursday Jun 2021

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A Petite Memoir

Memoir

Date Published: 06-04-2021

Publisher: Equal Age



At 31 years of age, Claire Ishi Ayetoro has lived enough lives to fill an ensemble cast. In this, her first memoir, no topic is off-limits as she paints portrait after portrait of her triumphs and her battles with bipolar disorder, religiosity, and that ever elusive cure-all: love. A vividly compassionate depiction of psychosis, Ayetoro weaves words of wisdom, encouragement, and inspiration into every layer of her storytelling. Journey with her through the mountains and valleys of manic depression, guided by that singular spirit of flight: the black raven. You never know, it may even be calling to you.


About the Author

Claire is an African-American author and a creative at heart. Born in the southern hills of Mississippi, she graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Mechanical Engineering and has been re-designing and re-defining her world to live her best life ever since. She is an advocate for human rights and helps others to find freedom of mind through her coaching. When she is not writing, she can be found catering to Rupert (the family cat), daydreaming about warm spring days and cool fall nights, and whistling (a favorite pastime taught to her by her beloved “Papa Ray”).

Sign up for her email list at www.ishiayetoro.com and receive a free gift. Become an advocate with her by exploring www.equalageco.com.


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Release Blitz: The Forget -Me Knot by Denise Liebig

15 Tuesday Jun 2021

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Paranormal Romantic Suspense, Ghost Romance, Time Travel Romance

Release Date: June 15, 2021


When a beloved heirloom bridges the past with the present, can a young woman bury her dead to build a future with the living?

Portland, Oregon, 2018

Natalie Lane has never been in love. Twelve years after her father’s premature passing, she’s still caring for her heartbroken mother. Determined to avoid a similar future, Natalie focuses on her therapy practice instead of romance. But when a man claiming to be a ghost enters her office, a man only she can see, she realizes that her overworked mind might need a rest.

Fearing a nervous breakdown, Natalie goes on sabbatical to England, leaving everything behind except her cherished Celtic trinity-knot pendant… her forget-me knot. Before she can relax, however, the man appears again, stalking her throughout the British Isles.

And her problems only mount when a visit to a local pub reveals an eerie connection to a former life and love. The more she learns about her past, and her necklace’s link to it, the more Natalie’s much-needed vacation turns into a journey of self discovery that threatens her very soul.

Can the forget-me knot’s secret help Natalie leave her past behind so she can finally find true love?

The Forget-Me Knot is a captivating standalone supernatural novel. If you like paranormal ghost romances with a time travel twist, historical fantasy, and stories drawn from real past-life experiences, you’ll enjoy this enlightening tale.



Excerpt

2006

The freshly mowed lawn’s distinctly green scent mingled with the earthy aroma from the rectangular hole cut deep in its surface. The morbid perfume made my empty stomach queasy. I looked away to stare instead at my patent leather shoes, riddled with grass clippings and morning dew. Like a threadbare scarf, the pastor’s monotone voice hung uselessly in the crisp April air. He mentioned my name, Natalie, then June, my mother, and paused. In the silence, I shifted focus. My gaze drifted from my shoes and slowly scaled the silver stretcher just feet away, holding the dark, wooden casket.

I struggled to breathe. It was as if the shiny box lay on my chest, allowing only shallow breaths to escape.

Just days before, Dad left for Lane & Frost Architects, carrying his briefcase in one hand and his favorite plastic travel mug in the other. He raised the cup, revealing pictures of me, minus a few front baby teeth, smiling from beneath the clear acrylic cover. He gave the mug a brief shake, like a wave. I rolled my eyes at the former Father’s Day gift, then offered a new smile, now covered in braces.

“Goodbye, John! I love you,” Mom said.

Dad puckered his lips and blew her an air kiss before walking out the front door. As he descended the steps, I watched him crane his neck and take a sip of coffee, avoiding a drip, then two, bound for his brand-new button up. Despite the cup’s many leaks and overall lack of insulation, he filled it to the brim daily, regardless.

Offering Mom and me another smile, Dad backed his Super Beetle out of the driveway, covering his front teeth with his tongue to mimic the mug’s picture. Then he waved goodbye. Minutes later, in an intersection less than a mile from our home, Dad’s car was no match for a speeding utility truck whose driver ran a red light. When Mom received the call, she rushed to the scene, but it was too late. We later learned Dad’s last words were: “Tell my wife and daughter I love them.”

The first responder, a police officer and bowling buddy who was with him until the end, now stood next to me, sniffing periodically. I saw his reflection in the casket as he wiped his nose with the back of his gloved hand. Although it was thoughtful of the officer to attend, I wished my dad and his reflection were standing beside me instead.

“Heavenly Father…” The pastor’s voice caught my attention once more and drew my focus back to the crowd. From the reaction I saw in those surrounding us, I imagined his eulogy was moving, with powerful words that evoked tears in most of the attendants. But I didn’t hear those words, or maybe I couldn’t. Instead, I again gazed at the casket and the somewhat distorted images on its polished surface.

Mom stood on the other side of me, wrapped within Grandpa Lane’s sturdy arms. My other grandparents had already passed, but Poppy, as I called him, was always there for us, standing in for those who could not. With his daughter-in-law propped against his black dress jacket, Poppy rested his chin on her head and held on tight. A gentle, rocking sob grew from the depths of her broken heart and clung to the casket as the squeaky pulley lowered Dad into the earth minutes later. The police officer reached over and pulled me close. Although I didn’t know him well, I held on to the man and openly wept, staining his dress blues with my heartbreak.

Above my sobs, I heard Mom next to me and could only imagine what she was going through. I had lost my father, but in my mind, I believed her grief was much worse. She’d lost her soulmate.

I dried my tears, and with the pastor’s prompting, I left the officer’s side and stepped toward the hole. I wasn’t ready for goodbye, not yet. So I looked down and tossed a single red rose into the lonely depths and whispered, “I’m going to miss you, Daddy.”

I continued to stare at the casket while others moved forward and offered their roses and whispers until the wooden lid was scarcely visible. You’re loved, Daddy, I thought. Wherever you are, I hope you know just how much.

The crowd dispersed, and the bereaved walked to their cars. Some headed to our reception afterward; others went back to their lives and their families. Many hugged me when they passed. Despite their embraces, I felt empty, alone.

“Thanks for coming,” I said again and again. Hearing myself repeat those words brought the extent of my loss into focus. Barely sixteen, I felt as if I’d aged many years in only a few days, and life as I knew it would never be the same. That knowledge was reinforced when I heard Mom still crying behind me. I turned to see her head buried in a handkerchief as Poppy propped her up.

While Mom searched for a dry spot on the square of fabric, I studied Poppy’s furrowed brow and his tight lips that served as dams for the tears he struggled to suppress, meant for his only son. His anguish grew in the ever-deepening creases of his down-turned face, and he seemed to age right before me. My grandfather was a rock, but I’d just learned that even strong men didn’t live forever.

Standing there at that moment, watching my loved ones crumble, I vowed to be stronger, especially for Mom. I faced forward and tried to clear my thoughts, then dried my tears, promising to fight them in the future.

Later that night, I lay atop my covers, staring at the shadow-filled ceiling as the moonlight streamed into my room. When Mom’s sobbing finally subsided, the old house grew silent briefly before offering a series of creaks. The noise soon built into a familiar dance, coinciding with the rustling trees outside my bedroom window. It sounded like my parents’ recent tango lessons in our front room. Their missteps and the laughter they evoked, which had mingled with the floorboards audibly resisting their movement, was still fresh in my memory.

The tears I had promised to fight loomed beneath burning eyes. “I can do this,” I said in a shaky voice that almost mimicked the creaking house. “But I wouldn’t mind a little help.”

I sat up and stared at my closet door for several seconds before leaving my bed to cross the room and open it. I stepped inside and grasped for the ceiling light’s pull chain that dangled in the darkness. Once I made contact, I wound my fingers around the chain and yanked the light to life. From a top shelf, behind old toys and spare blankets, I withdrew a shoebox. I opened the lid to reveal the treasures hidden inside: several ticket stubs from high school football games, a twig, and a stick of gum. All were items my latest crush, Bobby Flynn, had once touched, discarded, or stepped on in the twig’s case. Bobby was tall and ripped, hot by everyone’s standards. The quarterback even smiled at me once. I couldn’t fit that leg-melting grin into the box, but the memory saw me through more than a few failed math tests and a nasty stomach virus.

I slowly closed the lid and caressed the cardboard surface, hoping the simple gesture would evoke an image, a feeling, anything that might help me forget my life for a while. Such an action, something I’d never revealed to anyone, had offered comfort on many prior occasions, and I’d hoped it would again. This time, however, I didn’t feel a thing. I closed my eyes and tried once more. Sadly, Bobby’s once cherished image vanished into an enormous, rectangular hole in the ground.

I opened my eyes, clearing the scene from my mind. “Not even my secret Crush Box can make this hurt disappear,” I mumbled. I ran my hand across the lid a few more times but still felt nothing. Disappointed, I tucked the box under my arm and tiptoed down the hall, through the back door, and into the night.

Across the patio stood Dad’s pride and joy, the barbecue, the same one he had grilled hotdogs on the weekend before. I opened the lid, allowing the moonlight to bring everything into focus. Bits of charred and half-cooked sausage stood at attention as I removed the grates and leaned them against the grill. Above the briquettes that remained, some still intact and only slightly ashen, I placed the shoebox, then doused it with lighter fluid. I removed the red lighter that dangled from a hook attached to the grill and clicked the trigger. The long flame glowed in the darkness, and I stared at it for several seconds before touching it to the box. As the fire leaped into the night, I wondered if I’d ever meet someone I’d love as much

as Mom loved Dad. After seeing how her heart had shattered in the wake of his loss, I also wondered if I’d ever bother looking.


About the Author

Denise Liebig is an award-winning author whose modern characters experience the past through time travel, reincarnation, the paranormal, and other twists of time. A fan of everything vintage, her desire to be a fly-on-the-wall during the early 1900s inspired her to research that era, which soon launched her writing career. When she’s not imagining stories about the past and writing about them, Denise lives in the present with her husband and three kids.


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Release Blitz: The Palace by Allie McCormack

04 Friday Jun 2021

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When Darkness Falls Trilogy – Book I

Paranormal Romance

Date Published: June 3, 2021



Ruled by a gracious, wise Sultana, the humans of the great desert city of Al Khair dwell in uneasy peace with the vampires and demons who claim the lands as their ancestral homelands under the leadership of an ancient, powerful vampire. Their shaky truce becomes strained when a young human woman arrives from distant lands.

Orphaned since childhood and outcast, Alyssa joins a caravan to the fabled Al Khair where she seeks only to make a new life for herself. A life that quickly becomes complicated when she draws the attention of the Dark Lord himself.

A thousand years ago, Lord Damien permitted the humans to build their city. When he senses a new, immensely powerful magical being in the land, Damien suspects the humans of plotting to overthrow him. Furious, he searches for the source of this power, but he cannot stop thinking of the young woman in the tower who had seen through his glamour spell that cloaks him from humans.

When he discovers that Alyssa is the mysterious being he has been seeking, his determination to have her for his own threatens to pit the two races, human and vampire, against each other in all-out war.

*Please Note, this is a trilogy! Books 1 & 2 have cliffhangers and are not meant to be read out of order.



About the Author

A former career medical transcriptionist and disabled Veteran, Allie McCormack is now writing from home full-time. Allie has traveled quite a bit and lived many places all over the U.S., and also a year in Cairo, Egypt as an exchange student, and a year in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia under contract to a hospital there, plus a short stint with NATO while she was in the Army. Allie now lives in the beautiful southern California with her family and her two rescue cats.

Allie says: “A writer is who and what I am… a romance writer. I write what I know, and what I know is romance. Dozens of story lines and literally hundreds of characters live and breathe within the not-so-narrow confines of my imagination, and it is my joy and privilege to bring them to life, to share them with others by writing their stories.”


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Release Blitz and Giveaway: The Fourniers by Vera Jane Cook

26 Wednesday May 2021

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Women’s Fiction

Date Published: 5/26/2021

Publisher: Indies United



When Hannah Reilly steps off the ship on the shores of Ellis Island in 1912 she has no idea that it is not a convent that awaits her. It is a man who finds her far too beautiful to marry God.

Hannah turns her back on the church and she and Wade settle in Jacksonville, Florida, where the world holds the promise of sunshine. They have two wonderful children before life changes and Wade insists that Hannah abort her third child. When Hannah refuses, light turns to darkness and fate unfolds before Hannah with the cruel consequences of her choices.

A story told against the backdrop of the Depression, Hannah struggles with anguish and despair highlighted by brief moments of triumph, lost love returned, deep friendship and the cruelty of laws so unfavorable to women.


About the Author


Vera Jane Cook enjoys writing in a variety of genres. As Olivia Hardy Ray, Jane is author of the dark, suspenseful scifi novel, Pharaoh’s Star. In the fantasy genre she is the author of Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem, Annabel Horton and the Black Witch of Pau. She has numerous forthcoming titles in this genre which include Annabel Horton and the Demon of Lodun, Fox Hollow and Nobody’s Road.

As Vera Jane Cook, she often explores her southern roots and complex family dynamics in her women’s fiction. Her novel Dancing Backward in Paradise won the Indie Excellence Award for notable new fiction when it was first released in 2007 and an Eric Hoffer Award for publishing excellence that same year. Dancing Backward in Paradise received a five-star review from ForeWord Clarion. The Story of Sassy Sweetwater, first released in 2012, was a finalist for the ForeWord Clarion Book of the Year Award. Additionally, Jane has published the southern fiction novels Where the Wildflowers Grow and Pleasant Day. Her newest women’s fiction novel, When Hannah Played Ragtime, Book One in a family trilogy will be published this year.

Jane lives on the Upper West Side of Manhattan with her spouse, her Dachshund, Karly, her Chihuahua, Peanut, and her two pussycats, Sassy and Sweetie Pie.


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Release Blitz: Secrets Mothers Keep by Anya Mora

06 Thursday May 2021

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———————————————————————————–

 


Domestic Suspense, Psychological Thriller

Release Date: May 6, 2021



On Friday night in the clay fields of Bethel Creek, seventeen-year-old Daniel Reyes is found brutally attacked and left for dead. On Saturday morning, Cora Maxwell finds her teenage son’s clothes covered in blood. A small town torn apart by a horrific hate crime. An investigative reporter hell bent on finding the truth. A mother’s worst nightmare.

A small town torn apart by a horrific hate crime.

An investigative reporter hell bent on finding the truth.

A mother’s worst nightmare.

What really happened to the Reyes boy?

In the heart-stopping and timely suspense novel, Secrets Mothers Keep, widow and mother Cora Maxwell faces the hardest decision of her life. In a world where there are few second chances, do you grant one to your child? And if so… what is the cost?



About the Author


Anya Mora lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family. Her novels, while leaning toward the dark, ultimately reflect light, courage, and her innate belief that love rewards the brave.


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Release Blitz: Fire and Harmony by A.F. Agui

04 Tuesday May 2021

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Poetry

Date Published: May 4, 2021

Publisher: ShyMonkey Publishing



Poetry is the transfer of feelings and emotions onto the blank page. Great poetry shakes the heart and wakes the soul. Dare to read this collection; give yourself the opportunity to have your brain picked, heart squeezed, and soul poked. All poems are open to interpretation. If there’s one, two, or a few that don’t sit well with you, don’t get offended or startled. Maybe look and ask yourself why they hit you the way they did. Understand that when we get tangled in our feelings, we tend to say and write things that might seem harsh. But we really don’t mean those things—maybe—sometimes. This work of poetry goes into an array of emotions of today’s man because we have feelings too. In the five phases of the book, you’ll find poetry that aligns with mental health, love, motivation, being a man, and family. The poems carry sentiments of everyday life. We all experience highs and lows and sometimes struggle to find balance.


About the Author


A.F Agui started his writing journey in his early teens. He viewed it as a form art, and he wanted to be in mix, to create his own art and add to the artistic world. So, he did. Later, in his early twenties he discovered there was more to it than just beauty. He realized the simplicity of putting ink to paper was more than just symbols with meaning. The simplicity came with complexity. Because the art became a form of expression. AFA likes to give life to the pages he touches. He knows those pages can carry more human emotions than words can explain. He believes written words can reach souls, and he intends too.


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