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Historical Fiction
Date Published: October 8, 2016
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A murderer stalks the orange groves of 1923 Southern California. Detective Sidney Snipes is called to the Harrington Manor when retired Colonel Peter Wescott Harrington is found slumped over his desk by his family. Snipes entrusts the sensational new crime fighting technology—Fingerprint Analysis to find a fierce fiend.
Just when he though he had the murderer cornered, a neighbor discovers a shallow grave in the orange groves; an unsolved missing person's cold case files. A case that has haunted the Orange County Sheriff’s Department for three years. The evidence in the missing person's case rumples Snipes proficient sleuthing skills as the leads take him in circles. Then to add to the muddying discord, another Harrington turns up dead, apparently murdered in his sleep.
But when a sinister child’s Jack-in-the-box, seemingly from the grim reaper himself, materializes on the Colonel’s desk, the detective is bedeviled more than he cares to admit. Nevertheless, Snipes had enough moxie to send fingerprints to every city where his suspects had ever lived. The leads take Snipes in a direction he never saw coming. Within days, he's shocked to his eyebrows by the results; the identity of the murderer befuddles his mind. Alas, the oldest Harrington son, Shep, supposed wife, had a mock wedding to him in Manhattan, New York, and their plan was to kill the whole Harrington clan for their wealth.
Praise for Harrington Manor:
"Harrington Manor is James at his very best."-Publisher's Weekly
About the Author
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Ronald James was born during the great depression, and as a toddler watched WPA men build a new street, from his home’s big front window. His playmates were a red rider wagon, a small black satchel and rocks. By using his imagination he had conversations with mythical street workers that bloomed into fashioned fantasies by age four. He used cardboard boxes to create fun spaces for his neighborhood playmates to enjoy and he kept telling stories all through high school. In college he abandoned writing and studied architecture. James had a successful architectural career and retired, however he wanted to keep his creative juices fluent, so he returned to his childhood story telling days and joined a writers group. Like architecture, each day he couldn’t wait to create, finish, and start new stories—like, Harrington Manor.
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Historical Romance
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HEROES LIVE FOREVER
Elinor Hawthorne has inherited a house haunted by two medieval knights, Basil Manneville and Guy Guiscard. Basil is literally the knight of her dreams. She never expected to “meet” a ghost face to face let alone fall in love with one. Living the normal life together that they’d want is impossible unless fate intervenes.
A lifetime later fate does intervene. Basil, still in love with Elinor, is told her spirit lives on in a young woman. He is given another chance at life to find her.
JOURNEY IN TIME
The budding romance between London attorney, Shakira Constantine, and her client, Alex Lancaster is put to the test when the couple finds themselves torn through time back to the medieval world. It’s a world Alex has a strong connection to, a connection that will cost him his life unless they can find a way to return to this time. Without him, Shakira is condemned to live in a dangerous medieval world alone.
Together they’ll struggle to discover a way back to the modern world while dealing with the political and social intrigues of 14th Century England. The intrigues of that world all too often work against their efforts to get home.
KNIGHT BLINDNESS
Stephen Palmer, a wounded medieval knight finds himself torn through time from the battlefield to the modern and alien world. Seriously injured, he now must make his way in a world he has no context for and no knowledge about.
Esme Crippen is hired as his tutor. Love is something he does understand and as the two fall into love, they both must overcome the fact the world thinks him mad with his time-travel talk, including Esme.
About the Author
I was born and raised in Chicago. My father was a history professor and my mother was, and is, a voracious reader. I grew up with a love of history and books.
My parents also love traveling, a passion they passed onto me. I wanted to see the places I read about, see the land and monuments from the time periods that fascinated me. I’ve had the good fortune to travel extensively throughout Europe, the Near East, and North Africa.
I am a retired police detective. I spent twenty-five years in law enforcement with two different agencies. My desire to write came in my early teens. After I retired, I decided to pursue that dream. I write three different series. My paranormal romance series is called, Knights in Time. My romantic thriller series is Dangerous Waters. The newest is The Bloodstone Series. Each series has a different setting and some cross time periods, which I find fun to write.
I currently live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband and four wild and crazy rescue dogs.
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A Faery’s Kiss
By Ariel Marie
Release Date: Nov. 19, 2016
Cover by: Ariel Marie
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Blurb:
The twenty-fifth day of December is fast approaching. It is a day that is celebrated throughout all of Faery. It signifies the birthday of the beloved Princess, Noelle Bogosian, who on this year will turn thirty years old. With her impending birthday, her father, the king, has deemed it time for her to marry. The king has reinstated the Royal Tournaments, a series of competitions that would allow warriors near and far to compete for his daughter’s hand in marriage.
Noelle, being the loyal daughter that she is, has agreed to her father’s outlandish idea of finding her a husband. She will do anything for Faery and knows that finding a suitable husband will help secure Faery’s future. But for Noelle, she’s ready to test out the legend of a Faery’s kiss. She’s been ready to find that one special Fae to spend all of eternity with.
Will the legend prove true and reveal her one true love or will the victor of the tournament be the one that she will spend an eternity with?
WARNING: The book contains content for readers 18 years and older.
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Excerpt:
Ryo Daerosis was on a mission. He would participate in the Royal Tournaments to win the Fae princess’ hand in marriage. Her beauty and wit were known throughout the land. Warriors from all over Faery were descending upon the royal palace this week for the tournament.
The Royal Tournaments were an age old tradition to marry the princess off to a strong suitor, to ensure there would be two powerful rulers ready to assume the responsibilities of ruling all of Faery. This was the first tournament to be held in the last century since the royal couple only had one child, the princess.
Ryo was from a long line of strong Fae males, the Daerosis Clan, who were known as fierce warriors. Elas Daerosis, Ryo’s own father, had been the leader of the Daerosis Clan for the past two centuries. It was at the urging of his father that Ryo entered the tournaments. As the eldest son of the clan leader, it was time he settled down. Also, as the eldest Daerosis in line, Ryo was in charge of the clan’s army, making him the perfect candidate to be the future king of Faery.
Copyright © 2016 by Ariel Marie
** No part of this excerpt may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Meet Ariel Marie:
Ariel Marie is an author who loves the paranormal, action and hot steamy romance. She combines all three in each and every one of her stories. For as long as she can remember, she has loved vampires, shifters and every creature you can think of. This even rolls over into her favorite movies! She love a good action packed thriller! Throw a touch of the supernatural world in it and she’s hooked!
She grew up in Cleveland, Ohio where she currently resides with her husband and three beautiful children. Want to know more about her and her books? Visit her website www.thearielmarie.com ![]()
Historical Fiction
Date Published: December 2016
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"Who in the west has not heard of Wetzel, the daring borderer, the Boone of North-Western Virginia." Wills de Hass, 1851.
Lewis Wetzel came of age near the end of the Revolutionary War and was an important participant in the twenty-year war between the woodland Indian Nations and the settlers of western Pennsylvania, western Virginia, and Kentucky. The novel, although classified as historical fiction, traces Wetzel's life over a period of more than twenty years, featuring events and the rich history that occurred in the upper Ohio River Valley, Kentucky, Ohio, and down the Mississippi to New Orleans. According to de Hass, a historian in the mid-nineteenth century, Wetzel's efforts were without parallel in border warfare.
EXCERPT
He moved along in the direction indicated by the track he had found, and he soon found another. The Indian was moving along the path parallel to the tree line, which ended at the riverbank.
Lewis knew that the Indians often used the islands such as Boggs Island to help them cross the Ohio, and he figured that this warrior was heading directly to the shore opposite the island.
“This red buck ain’t doin’ much to cover his trail,” said Wetzel aloud to himself. “And he ain’t too far ahead neither.”
He came to a break in the tree line, and he could see the island in the distance. There was tall grass and some light brush in the open area, then another clump of trees. Wetzel dropped to a crawl, keeping his head below the taller grasses until he reached the trees.
He looked for some sign of his quarry and eventually saw a broken twig just a few feet to the left of where he had entered. A natural path led along the base of a low-rising hill, and Lewis followed it, stopping often to listen and examine the forest floor to both sides.
It seemed to Wetzel that he should be close to what he had thought was the Indian’s intended destination. He heard
Something that sounded like singing, a female voice. His eye then caught sight of his prey, kneeling behind a big maple and watching something intently. Wetzel dropped down behind some bushes and stared at the husky brave. What was he looking at?
Lewis backed up a bit and shifted to his right where there was a small opening in the trees through which he could see to the riverbank. What he saw nearly took his breath away. A woman Wetzel stood at the edge of the stream, splashing water on herself. She was completely naked, and she was singing softly. Wetzel knew immediately that it was Lydia, and he could not take his eyes off her. When she began to turn, Lewis was so enthralled that he nearly forgot his dusky friend who was sharing this view.
Lydia stepped toward the canoe that was pulled up on the bank near where she stood and reached for the towel, slung over its side. In so doing, she exposed her front side to the two men watching her with avid attention. Lewis was conscious of the effects this sight was having on his body. Her breasts were as beautiful as he had imagined, and as his eye dropped down to the dark thatch between her legs, he could scarcely keep himself from crying out. He felt the desire well up within him, and he wanted to rush down and take her in his arms.
Lydia casually lifted the towel and began to dry herself, completely unaware of the two men watching her from so nearby.
Lewis, remembering finally the danger to Lydia crouching behind the big tree, looked to see what the warrior was doing.
The Indian, as if mesmerized by the erotic show in front of him, had not moved. This couldn’t last much longer, and Wetzel
eased back into the woods behind him and moved to a position advantageous for an attack. How should he do it without revealing to Lydia that the two of them had been peeping at her. He could not wait much longer, he knew.
He dropped down to a prone position and raised his rifle, sighting through the opening at the Indian who stood next to the tree, still watching the girl. His face was painted and a stone hung
from his right ear. Wetzel aimed just in front of the dangling gem and squeezed the trigger. The ball slammed into the unsuspecting brave in the right jaw, plowing through his mouth and out just under the left eye. He dropped instantly and without making a sound. Wetzel could hear the scream from Lydia, but he waited for a short while before moving.
He was confident that the Indian was dead, but he made no move to go to the body and retrieve the scalp. He could not see Lydia now, but he figured that she was scrambling to get dressed and get the canoe out into the river. Waiting until he thought she was probably dressed, he then pushed through the trees, making as much noise as possible. Lydia was visible as Wetzel neared the edge of the woods, and he could see that she was no longer naked. She had put on the gown, but he could see that her petticoat was still in the canoe. She had crouched down by the side of the canoe that was nearest the river, and as he came into the clearing, she screamed again.
“Lyddy, it’s me, Lew Wetzel,” he shouted, hoping to stop her screaming.
It had just occurred to him that they might not be alone, even though he had seen no one else.
“Who?” Lydia stopped screaming but remained half hidden by the canoe.
“Lew Wetzel!” exclaimed Lew, louder this time.
Now Lydia stood up and immediately recognized the young hunter.
“Lew Wetzel, you fool. You look like an Indian. You scared me to death.”
“That wasn’t my intent, Lyddy,” protested Lew.
“Was that you shooting?” Lydia demanded, walking around the bow of the canoe and approaching Lew. Her expression had changed from one of fright to one of fury.
“I reckon it was,” admitted Wetzel.
“What were you shootin’ at then?” Lydia wanted to know. “I thought somebody was shootin’ at me.”
“I was shootin’ at a rabbit, Lyddy. I missed him.”
“I thought you was supposed to be a crack shot,” said Lydia, beginning to calm down.
“Suppose to bein’ and bein’ are two different things, mebbe,” said Lew.
He had decided it was better not to mention the Indian.
“Well, everybody says you’re one of the best shots on the whole border. Guess you got ’em fooled.”
Another thought occurred to her, and she felt herself beginning to blush. “When did you first see me?” she asked suddenly.
Wetzel was ready for this question. “Why, just when I came out of the woods,” he explained. “I saw you crouchin’ there behind the canoe. Why do you want to know that?”
“None of your business, Lew Wetzel.” In spite of herself, Lydia’s face broke into a coquettish grin. “Maybe I wasn’t dressed proper for receivin’ company.”
Wetzel stole a glance at the petticoat draped against the side of the canoe. “Maybe you ain’t dressed quite proper even now,” replied Lew, surprised that he would talk that way to a girl. He surely would never say such a thing to Betty Zane.
Lydia had seen his glance, and she blushed even more. Still she was feeling a certain excitement at this turn in the conversation.
“Well, it’s better than it was before I heard that shot. I was takin’ a bath in the river.”
“I sure wish I had seen that!” said Wetzel emphatically.
“You’re bad, Lew,” said Lydia. “Would you have watched me without warning me?”
Lew realized he could be on dangerous ground here, and he answered accordingly. “Of course not, Lyddy. Why, you’re my friend Billy’s little sister.”
“What difference does that make? Does that mean if it was some other girl, like Betty Zane, you would have watched?” Lydia was not particularly fond of Betty Zane. It was rumored that she was engaged to Moses Shepherd, a young man that Lydia had in mind for herself.
“No, I wouldn’t have looked at Betty Zane neither. Listen here, Lyddy, it ain’t smart for you to come over here by yourself like you did. I could’ve been an Injun, and if I was, you’d be dead about now.”
“Well, I ain’t dead, and I don’t like you sneakin’ up on me like some Injun anyway.”
“I didn’t sneak up on you, Lyddy. I’ll go behind these bushes and turn my back while you finish gittin’ dressed. Then I’ll take you back home.”
Wetzel did as he promised, and Lydia finished dressing. She wanted to stay angry with him, but she supposed she didn’t really have a good reason. The look on his face, though, made her wonder if maybe he had seen more than he was admitting. When she was ready, she called to him and climbed into the canoe. He laid his rifle carefully on the bottom and pushed the little craft out into the water, jumping in as the current began to carry it away from the shore. He took the paddle and began the trip back around Boggs Island and to the shore on the other side.
Two days later, Lydia sat in the commandant’s room at Fort Henry when John Linn came in to talk to her father, Captain John Boggs. The two men spoke for a few moments when a remark of Linn’s caught her attention.
“Funny thing, Captain,” said Linn. “Across the river, in the woods across from your island, I found the body of a dead redskin. He’d been shot through the head but wasn’t scalped. I don’t know how long he’d been there, but he was beginnin’ to stink. His gun was leanin’ against the tree right where he fell. I didn’t see no sign of any others around anywhere.”
A puzzled look came across Boggs’ face. “Weren’t you over there a couple days ago, Lyddy?” he asked his daughter. “Lew Wetzel said he’d found you there. Did you hear anything that day?” Boggs had intended to address the matter with his daughter and give her a good scolding, but he hadn’t got around to it yet.
“Not a thing,” said Lydia immediately, wondering how much Wetzel had told her father.
The men looked at each other and shook their heads. “Let that be a lesson to you, Lyddy. You’d best not go over there again like that,” said Captain Boggs.
“I won’t, Pa,” answered Lydia. Some rabbit, she was thinking to herself.
About the Author
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Richard Fleming has degrees from Northwest Missouri State and Florida State University, including a doctorate in mathematics. After forty-two years as a professor of mathematics at the University of Missouri, the University of Memphis, and Central Michigan University, he retired and began to indulge a lifelong love of history. He lives in Mt. Pleasant, Michigan, with his wife, Diane.
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![]() ![]() Buy on AmazonRead for FREE on Kindle Unlimited As a scientist and author specializing in technology innovation, H. Peter Alesso has over twenty![]() Follow Website / Facebook /GoodreadsEnter to win a $50 Amazon Gift Card. Fill out the form below to enter!![]()
Espionage Thriller, Military Thriller
Date Published: July 2016
This espionage thriller describes how MI6 was able to place a special non official under-cover agent in the Pakistani Al Qaeda organization, with the aim to finding Osama Bin Laden. His name was Naeem Fiazudin and before being recruited, he was an ex SAS soldier of Pakistani origin with an exceptional fighting record in Afghanistan. He discovered that Al Qaeda was currently being run by a far more powerful man in the background. After the CIA raid in Abbottabad, in which Ben Laden was killed, Al Qaeda and their Taliban allies, decided to use the skills of their new recruit to mount a raid on the Pakistani atomic bomb factory near Islamabad. MI6 came up with an ingenious and supposedly fail safe plan, which allowed the raid to go ahead and expose the danger that both MI6 and the CIA had for years feared, with the aim of forcing the Indian sub-continent to put their nuclear arsenal under international control as a step towards disarmament.
Mike Sander, the new MI6 director had recruited Naeem Fiazudin together another ex SAS soldier, John Sebastian, who was severely injured and took up the position of an Al Jazeera investigative journalist. The two of them were close friends and took part in the Tora Bora raid in Afghanistan at the beginning of the hunt for Bin Laden. The journalist was the convert contact man for Naeem. The story relates the Odyssey of Naeem Fiazudin, starting with his recruitment in a Mosque in South London leading to him joining the Red Crescent organization in Pakistan and subsequent contact with the Taliban and Al Qaeda in the Swat Valley, where he had to prove himself. He was first asked to organize and mount a raid on the Pul- e-Charkhi prison in Kabul, where a brother of the Afghan Taliban leader Omar was being held and due to be executes. The raid was successful and he got the attention of a man known as the Sheikh in Dubai, who was the de-facto leader of the world wide Al Qaeda network, under the cover of a wealthy and successful businessman in the building industry. The Sheikh decided that his new recruit should train a team of the best Al Qaeda and Pakistani Taliban fighter and mount a raid on the Pakistani Kahuta bomb making factory and steal four small portable atomic bombs. They would be aided by an inside man, who was an engineer in the end control, who was a devout Muslim and Taliban sympathizer. His job was to build in a GSM triggering device, so the bombs could be detonated anywhere in the world, in particular US and Europe. To this end the Sheikh had an ingenious plan. However, MI6 had also a high ranking Engineer in placed in the PAEC, which oversaw the Kahuta plant. His job was to disarm the bombs and place a small tracing and tracking device in them. Naeem would only be given the go ahead if he successfully accomplished this, just before the bombs were due to be collected. Something went wrong, and although the Sheikh and the top Al Qaeda leaders, were captured or killed in a meeting in Dubai, the control of the bombs got into the hands of the IS leader. Mike Sanders, together with Naeem Fiazudin and John Sebastian had to stop him using them before it was too late, because one of the bombs had not been neutralized. This bomb was traced to London. About the Author
Stuart Craigie was born in 1945 at the end of WWII in the North West Frontier province of war time India (now Pakistan); son of Major Ian Craigie of Scottish and Russian parentage. He is married, has adaughter and has lived and worked in Germany for the past twenty years. He holds dual British and German citizenship.
His early childhood was spent in Kenya East Africa. He finished his academic career studying Physics at University College London. After obtaining a B.Sc first class honors and Ph.D. degree he began research in high energy nuclear particle physics. Over the next fourteen years he published over eighty scientific works in major physics journals and proceedings of international conferences, His publications included two monographs and two books.(Most of his works can be found in the ww web under “N S Craigie”)
During his research years he visited the Soviet Union and a number of east block countries attending symposiums, giving seminars and collaborating with east block physicists on joint projects. These experiences gave him a vivid impression of life behind the iron curtain during the cold war and brought him indirectly in contact with the KGB and East German Stasi, who were monitoring the scientists he had contact with.
In 1984 he left academia and entered industry as a developer of intelligent sensors for the automation industry. In his first four years he submitted and was granted six patents in the above mentioned field. In 1990 he took up a position as a senior executive of his last employer and became its joint CEO and Managing Director in 1994. One of his important tasks was chairman of the board of the directors of a joint venture company in Shanghai. Over a period ofsixteen years he visited and worked in China on numerous occasions.
As a frequent traveler over the years, visiting almost all continents, numerous countries, including most of the major cities around the world, he often took for leisure an exciting spy thriller novel from one or other of his favorite authors: Forsyth, le Carre, and Higgins. As time went on he had read most of their works as well the works of Follet, Clancy, Forbes and others, so that he found less and less to read. Ten years ago this gave him the motivation to write spy novels himself as part of a wider urge to write about life in general..
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![]() About the Book: Title: Paradise Series Author: Deborah Brown Publisher: Paradise Books Pages: 626 (total in series) Genre: Mystery/Humor Crazy in Paradise: Dying in the middle of the summer in the Florida Keys is sweaty business. Welcome to Tarpon Cove. Madison Westin has inherited her aunt's beachfront motel in the Florida Keys. Trouble is she’s also inherited a slew of colorful tenant's - drunks, ex-cons, and fugitives. Only one problem: First, she has to wrestle control from a conniving lawyer and shady motel manager. With the help of her new best friend, whose motto is never leave home without your Glock, they dive into a world of blackmail, murder, and drugs. Deception in Paradise: Madison Westin is back!! The Florida Keys are hotter than ever. With Madison's never-say-no style she's smarter and packing an attitude not to mention her Glock. This time, trouble rolls into Tarpon Cove in the form of Madison's ex-husband, Jackson Devereaux, whom she hoped to never see again. His arrival brings unparalleled chaos and an uninvited corpse. Teaming up with her hot friend, Fabiana, the two women go from chasing the usual cast of misfits and weirdos to hunting down a murderer. The action turns deadly serious when they stir up a nasty enemy as they try to stay one-step ahead in a game of cat and mouse that threatens their lives. Trouble in Paradise: What is big news in small town Tarpon Cove? An accidental drowning or perhaps a ruthless murder? When a dead fisherman rolls up on shore, Madison cannot resist jumping into her new role as Private Investigator. But she soon discovers the people in The Cove who normally gossip about everybody's business are unusually tight-lipped. The bad tenant radar still not working, the cottages continue to be full of riffraff. Madison gets arrested, shot at, and outsmarted. She teams up with her best friend – the Glock carrying Fabiana. Together they take on cases no other investigators would ever touch! Purchase:Amazon ![]() About the Author Redhead. Long legs. There's nothing like a strawberry-lemonade in summer. Favorite activity: Filling my pockets with seashells. An avid rule follower when eating Animal Cookies: Broken ones get eaten first, match up the rest, duplicates next, line them up favorite to not, least favorite go first. South Florida is my home, with my ungrateful rescue cats, and where Mother Nature takes out her bad attitude in the form of hurricanes. WEBSITE | TWITTER | FACEBOOK Book Excerpt:
There should be a law in South Florida that a person can’t die during the summer. The death of a loved one was hard enough without the added humiliation of sweat. I felt it rolling down my back, like a stream trapped by the belt of my dress with nowhere to go. My name is Madison Elizabeth Westin, and I’m seated at the funeral of my favorite aunt, people watching, of all things. Most of the mourners looked ready for a pool party, some of them in shorts and bathing suit cover-ups. I was the only one dressed in black; even my brother wore khaki shorts. The minister began, “We are gathered here today to give thanks for the life of Elizabeth Ruth Hart, who shared herself with us. It is in her memory we come together and, for all she meant to us, we are thankful.” My mother had named me after her older sister. Elizabeth was like a second mother to my brother Brad and me. We spent summers with her in Florida, running and playing on the beach, building sandcastles, and she was a regular visitor to our home in South Carolina. After five years of not seeing her, I had packed for a several-month stay and planned to spend the summer with her. That’s when I got a phone call from her lawyer telling me she had died. I still found it difficult to believe it had happened so suddenly.When I walked into the funeral home earlier, the heat had smothered me; this main room was suffocating. The air conditioning wasn’t working and it felt as though it was more than one hundred degrees. The director, Dickie Vanderbilt, had apologized for that, telling me that the central unit had gone out earlier in the day. He informed me he had all of the ceiling fans on high, which, in my opinion, were only circulating hot air. Dickie Vanderbilt gave me the creeps. He had a slight build, pasty white skin, and long skinny fingers. When he reached out to touch my arm, I tried hard not to squirm. I’m not a big fan of shaking hands. I find people only want to shake your hand when they can see you’re not interested. A friend suggested I perfect the dog paw shake for those who insist. I extend my hand like a paw and let it hang loose. Often times, they jerk their hand away and give me an odd stare, which makes me want to laugh every time. The minister rambled on. I found him to be uninteresting, his speech dry. He talked about Elizabeth as though she were a stranger to him and everyone here. Apparently, Elizabeth’s jerk attorney, Tucker Davis, hadn’t given the minister any information about her. I didn’t understand why my aunt left all of the details of her funeral to Tucker. Why would she exclude the people who loved her and knew her best from having input? I wished I had one more day to walk along the beach to laugh, talk, and collect shells with her. On Sunday, Tucker called to inform me that Elizabeth had died in her sleep from a heart attack. “The funeral is Wednesday, 1:00 p.m. at Tropical Slumber Funeral Home on Highway 1 in Tarpon Cove,” he told me. “I want to help plan the funeral.” “All of the arrangements have been made.” He sounded impatient, emphasizing his words. “If you want to, you can call anyone else you think should be informed.” “My aunt would’ve wanted her family to be involved in the decision-making for her funeral. After all, my mother, brother, and I are the only family she had.” “Elizabeth appointed me executor. She left me written instructions for everything she wanted done after her death, including her funeral.” I didn’t believe him. Elizabeth loved us. She never would’ve excluded her family in this way, knowing how important it would be to us. “I oversaw all of the arrangements myself. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied. If you have any other questions you can call my assistant, Ann.” He hung up the phone. My aunt never once mentioned Tucker Davis to me or anyone else in the family. Here he was, a stranger, handling her estate. The next day, I called the lawyer back to tell him that Elizabeth’s sister Madeline, her nephew Brad, and I, would attend. He refused to take my phone call, and I was frustrated. “This is Madison Westin. May I speak with Tucker Davis?” “I’m Ann, Mr. Davis’s assistant. He’s not accepting calls at this time. Can I help you with something?” “I wanted to ask again if there was anything I could do in preparation for Elizabeth Hart’s funeral? Surely, you can understand how her family would want to be involved in any final decisions.” “Mrs. Hart wanted Mr. Davis to make those arrangements, and he has. She didn’t indicate that she wanted anyone else involved in the planning. I can assure you he’s seen to all of the details. He worked directly with Mr. Vanderbilt at the funeral home.” “I’ll be arriving later today. Would you tell Mr. Davis I’m available to help with anything that needs to be done? He can reach me at Elizabeth’s house.” “Does Mr. Davis know you plan to stay in Mrs. Hart’s house?” “I don’t need Mr. Davis’ permission. I’ve never stayed anywhere but the Cove Road house, and this trip won’t be any different. If Mr. Davis has a problem with my staying there, he can call me,” I said. “Any more messages?” Ann sniffed and, without waiting for a response, hung up on me.
On Tour with Prism Book Tours.
Book Tour Grand Finale for
The Secret He Keeps
By Julieann Dove
Dane has loved Rachel for years and is hoping that one day she will figure that out. We hope you enjoyed finding out more about their story! If you missed any of the stops, go back and check them out...
Launch - Note from the Author
I am especially excited for this book release because it was the very first book I composed when I took to the leap to becoming an author. The original idea has been tossed and turned and eventually manifested into something completely different from where it began.
Linda's Book Bag - The Setting and Characters ![]()
The setting takes place in Mystic, Connecticut. This is a place my family visits once a year. As you may know, the movie, Mystic Pizza took place there. It was Julia Roberts’ first real acting gig, I believe. I absolutely love that movie, so I thought, ‘what about another story that originates from there?’ And there I had it.
Bottles & Books Reviews - Promo Kindle and Me - Review
"Overall, the story was cute, my husband has loss of memory from an accident and I could relate to that aspect very well. . . . Dane is a good man, even though there were some things I didn’t like that he did. I love holidays with family and this was during thanksgiving and Christmas and New Years and I love all the family drama and still everyone loves everyone. It was a little sad the history that Rachel has lived with all her life. I felt for her."
Becky on Books - Excerpt
“You could fly with me, all expenses paid, to Savannah, Georgia and pretend to be interested in me.” She quickly added, “Not like wildly interested, just like smile at me and seem fond. No, that’s a better word. Fond of me.
![]() The Silver Dagger Scriptorium - Promo Nicole's Book Musings - Excerpt
She looked at him before she answered. Making it seem like it was a problem would only bring to light it was. And no matter what, it couldn’t be. “I won’t kick if he promises not to.”
He seemed uncomfortable, taking a deep breath that drew in his abdomen. Not his usual quick-witted self with a rapid retort of sarcasm. “I can sleep on the chair.”
Book Lover in Florida - Music and Writing
Music touches me greatly in the creative process. Lyrics and melody have a way of pouring through to my soul and giving me an incredible muse. Every book I write, I create a playlist. It was actually a song that created the entire plot for my book. Gravity, by Sara Bareilles, was my inspiration.
![]() underneath the covers - Excerpt
“So, how was your first week? Did it all come back to you?” He rested his elbows on the table. It was all he could do not to reach across and pull a stray hair from the middle of her forehead. But then that would lead to touching her cheek. Then that would lead to bending across the table and kissing her. Something she wouldn’t understand.
Don't forget to enter the giveaway below... ![]() by Julieann Dove Adult Contemporary Romance Paperback & ebook, 276 pages December 8th 2016 Dr. Rachel Miller has no recollection of what happened that night she climbed in the car with her husband and he drove recklessly into a tree. She has no clue as to why she survived and he didn’t. Nor does she understand why strangers are coming up to her on the street and telling her things she can’t recall about a life that seems so long ago. But Dane Stone knows. Dane Stone is Rachel’s business partner...and her deceased husband’s best friend. He knows about the notes, the hotel receipt, and the reason she got in the car that night. It’s for her protection that he keeps the secret, but inside he’s dying to tell her. Other Books by the Author Tour Giveaway - 1 winner will receive a signed copy of Waking Amy (US only)
- 1 winner will receive an ebook of Waking Amy (open internationally)- Ends December 18th
a Rafflecopter giveaway ![]() Escaping the Ashes (Hotel Paranormal)is available now.iBOOKS | BARNES & NOBLEKOBO | AMAZON![]() The Phoenix: Buy your copy today!iBOOKS | BARNES & NOBLEKOBO | AMAZONAnd after you buy your book, be sure to check out the Escaping the Ashes Playlist to get all of Olivia's Inspirational Music!AND be sure to get A Bundle of Trouble, on sale for 99 cents for a VERY short time. In it you get four Lynlee Lincoln stories all in one collection.
iBooks/Kobo/Nook/Amazon![]() When Olivia Hardin began having strange movie-like dreams in her teens, she had no choice but to begin putting them to paper. Before long the writing bug had her and she knew she wanted to be a published author. Several rejections plus a little bit of life later, and she was temporarily “cured” of the urge to write. That is until she met a group of talented and fabulous writers who gave her the direction and encouragement she needed to get lost in the words again. Olivia’s attended three different universities over the years and toyed with majors in Computer Technology, English, History and Geology. Then one day she heard the term road scholar and she knew that was what she wanted to be. Now she “studies” anything and everything just for the joy of learning. She's also an insatiable crafter who only completes about 1 out of 5 projects, a jogger who hates to run, and she’s sometimes accused of being artistic. A native Texas girl, Olivia lives in the beautiful Lone Star state with her husband, Danny and their puppy, Bonnie. Get a free gift just for signing up for Olivia's Newsletter! Follow Olivia: Newsletter/Facebook/Twitter/Pinterest/Website Amazon/BookBub And if you love her books, join Team OH!
YA Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy
Date Published: 12/14/2016
Wilder’s wonderful grandfather is dead, and so is her mother, but Grandpa Willy gives her one final gift in his will – the knowledge that her father is only her step-father.
Once she meets Hawker, the scary man who turns out to be her real dad, her life takes an unexpected turn. She finds out about a heritage she never knew she had, and secrets from the past are uncovered as she fights to save her part of the world from destruction.
And then there’s Mac, with his green eyes and a soft voice that flows through her like sweet honey. He’s there to help Wilder when she needs it the most, and as she struggles with how to fit into the group of people around her dad - having Mac in her life becomes more important with every bad thing that happens.
“Wilder” is the first in the Birds of a Feather series and a spin-off from the Dreughan trilogy. It’s set in modern time and can be read stand-alone.
Excerpt
“Let him go, Wilder,” a deep, gravelly voice rumbled.
Slowly, I turned my head to the side and realized immediately that I had been so very wrong. My father was not a fat loser of a drunk sitting in a corner drinking cheap whiskey.
My father was a tall, scary man with long, pitch black hair and tattoos slithering down his arms from under a tight t-shirt that showed off a lean muscular body. I realized another mistake I'd made. I'd thought that he wouldn't know who I was since I didn't look at all like my mother, but the man in front of me would recognize me anywhere because, except for the color of our hair, I looked just like him. It was like looking at a weird mirror where my face stared back at me from a man much older than me. He seemed calm, unnervingly so, but the two men at his sides were scowling angrily. At me? Or at the drunken man on the floor?
“I'll deal with Doug. Let him go now,” he ordered calmly.
“Shit,” the man beneath me whispered. “You're Wilder?”
“Shut up, Doug,” one of the two men flanking my father said quietly.
Slowly, I let go of the man, and he scrambled to his feet quickly, cowering as he approached the three men standing side by side, hands on their hips.
“I'm sorry, had no clue, wouldn't have -”
My father's eyes flicked to the side, one eyebrow went up slightly, but then he looked back at me. This was clearly an order because one of the men immediately moved over, grabbed Doug's arm and led him away.
“Willy's gone then?”
At first, I was surprised by the question, but then I understood. Willy had known this man. And he'd known him well enough to share the contents of his will, had told him that I'd know the truth once he was gone.
“Yeah,” I whispered hoarsely.
“Do you know who I am?”
I stared at him. Did he think I was stupid? Slowly, I pulled off my sunglasses and stretched them out in the general direction of where I thought Mickey would be. He took them, and when he did, he squeezed my hand a little. This calmed me down, and I raised my chin, holding my father's eyes. Eyes that were the same freakishly yellow color as my own.
“I buried my grandfather and my mother this morning. Then I went to the attorney's office and heard how Paolo Fratinelli became the owner of everything except our ranch and a small house in this village. Next thing, Paolo told me that he isn't my father and that I should go to this place to find the man who was. So yeah... It's been one of the worst days of my life. But I know who you are,” I said, slowly and succinctly.
About the Author
The proper way to put it here would probably be to describe how I love to play with our two big dogs, adore my fantastic daughters and how much I love to read.
Another way would be to use my imagination and then I would be a super powerful warrior woman, think Xena the warrior princess (though with less tacky clothes). Or when I think of it, maybe I’m actually more of a Hercule Poirot (sans the suit and moustache). Or maybe I’m like Aragorn, strong and cool and then I might get to meet Gandalf! Or I could be Bella’s pretty cousin and snap Jacob up in a second (yeah, I’m so not team Edward), or wait, maybe I could be like one of them heroines in historical novels who swoon all the time. I’ve always wanted to swoon…
Well, I guess you get how my mind is working (or not working, some say). Anyways, I like to write. Stories, adventures, romantic and happy stuff mixed up with sorrow and hardship, and bit of laughter here and there because the way I see it – life is way too short to go around feeling grumpy.
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