Sleuth on Safari by A.R. Kennedy – Spotlight and Giveaway

March 17, 2020 By 23 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. A. R. Kennedy will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Naomi and her estranged sister are off on a trip of a lifetime—an African safari, a bucket list trip for Naomi on which she got a last-minute deal. Naomi thinks traveling with her sister will be the worst part of her African safari until she finds one of their fellow travelers, the unlikable Dr. Higgins, dead. She gets more adventure than she bargained for when she starts investigating what she thinks is murder but the luxury lodge says was a tragic accident. She only has a few vacation days, and a few game drives, to find the killer.

Enjoy an Excerpt

For fifteen minutes, we stood at the conveyor belt, waiting for my luggage to arrive. The constant trail of luggage became a trickle and I began to worry. I had a vision that my vacation slideshow would be me in my Supernatural TV series T-shirt and jeans, with a soundtrack of my sister’s voice saying, “I told you so.”

I glanced at Charlotte. After a fifteen-hour flight, Charlotte had emerged refreshed. I was a little worse for wear. She gave me a dismissive look and I wiped a few crumbs from breakfast off my jeans.

She smiled briefly and the other expression returned.

“You know you look like Mom when you’re annoyed,” I told her.

She glared at me and whipped around. She and her bright pink luggage stormed off. Her pink flowy top wafted over leggings with a black-and-pink chevron pattern. I had to admit, she did look nice. And did not look like she had spent almost a day traveling. I looked down at myself. The same could not be said. My wrinkled black T-shirt and torn jeans, paired with Converse sneakers with tips that used to be white, made me cringe. Nothing about me said glamour.

I didn’t worry about being left in a foreign country by myself. I could find her a mile away with that highlighter pink gear.

I said a quick prayer before turning back to the luggage belt. I exhaled and smiled. She didn’t see the last bag to drop onto the conveyor. My worn tan duffle bag.

About the Author:

A R Kennedy lives in Long Beach, New York, with her two pups. She works hard to put food on the floor for them. As her favorite T-shirt says, ‘I work so my dog can have a better life’. She’s an avid traveler. But don’t worry. While she’s away, her parents dote on their grand-puppies even more than she does. Her writing is a combination of her love of travel, animals, and the journey we all take to find ourselves.

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Murder at Eagle’s Nest by Pat Duggan – Spotlight and Giveaway

March 9, 2020 By 19 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Pat Duggan will be awarding a $10 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Murder at Eagle’s Nest is a gentle mystery novel set in a peaceful vacation resort in Apalachicola on Florida’s Forgotten Coast. The area is still reeling after Hurricane Michael made landfall only thirty-five miles to the west, on Mexico Beach. It uncovers fraud, driven by greed and arrogance. However, everything changes when a body is discovered. The police detective brought in from Tallahassee, quickly enlists the help of two women staying at the resort, who have unusual insight. They ultimately uncover critical evidence, which unmasks the perpetrator.

Enjoy an Excerpt


In the end, Michael made landfall on October 10th 2018 as the first category five hurricane to hit the U.S. mainland for more than twenty-five years. Its ‘bullseye’ was Mexico Beach, and the result was that much of this thriving little coastal town was almost completely destroyed. Several days after the storm, a worker in the nearby forest, found a weather station that had been blown inland by the storm. He was surprised to discover that the data was still intact, and it had recorded a 206mph wind gust before it was blown away and stopped recording.

The pier, had been the signature landmark in Mexico beach since 1967 and had provided a place for tourists to fish, or sit drinking a cup of coffee in the morning, or watch the sun set in the evening. Now it was completely gone, there was not even one wooden post sticking up out of the surf to show it had ever existed, except in the photographs and memories of generations of tourists. Most of the surrounding homes and condos had been reduced to rubble sitting on concrete foundations. Even the Federal government (FEMA) had declared the community as ‘wiped out’. The few homes that had survived were newer homes which had been built on stilts, but even those stood in varying degrees of disrepair with tattered siding and gaping holes in the roof. Everywhere you looked was destruction and devastation!

As Hurricane Michael swirled in the Gulf, Anna Kohl and Hazel Davies were a thousand miles north, safe in their home near Columbus, Ohio watching it on the news and praying for the people in the panhandle. Storms were always a time for prayer, but their prayers were intensified on this occasion as they had friends on the Forgotten Coast and only six months earlier, they had purchased a small condominium in Apalachicola as an investment and an occasional winter retreat. Their friends had evacuated ahead of the storm, so they were safe, but their homes and properties were still a cause for concern.

About the Author:

Originally from Manchester, England but moved to the U.S. over 30 years ago. I have an accounting background in both countries. Several years ago, I discovered an interest in writing. My two previous books, Finding God in an RV and The Power Within, document my spiritual journey. However, as a longtime lover of murder mysteries, with a passion to follow plots and figure out the perpetrator, it was time for a new direction. I decided to ‘try my hand’ at weaving my own story, and true to my character, I had to tie up all the loose ends. Murder at Eagles Nest is my first mystery novel, and I am already working on the next mystery for my amateur detectives, Hazel and Anna, to solve.

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Ancestral Whispers by Jo Hiestand – Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway

February 28, 2020 By 13 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jo A Hiestand will be awarding a $30 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Each year the residents of Nether Haddon celebrate the village’s founding in the time-honored way with games, music, and performances by their sword dancers. But something new is added to the fancy footwork this year: a team member dies … murdered. Fear, jealousy and suspicion quickly engulf the group, emotions as tightly interlocked as the five swords used in the dance: a series of turns, jumps and clogging steps intricate as Celtic knots. Was the victim the intended target, or should it have been someone else? In the course of the CID investigation, a mysterious 17th century puzzle is discovered. Does it hold a clue to the murder? Detective Brenna Taylor and her colleagues have more than enough to worry about. But unbeknownst to her, career criminal King Roper has escaped from prison where he was serving time for murder. Now free and eager to settle the score for his capture, Roper tracks down Brenna’s whereabouts, ready for revenge…

Enjoy an Exclusive Excerpt

Dr. Robert Paladin had never operated on so notorious a criminal as King Roper. He’d been with Leeds General Hospital his entire career, since leaving his residency at Manchester Royal Infirmary twenty years prior. Yet that Monday morning, for the first time in his twenty-four years as a surgeon, he found it necessary to remind himself that he’d taken an oath all those years ago, an oath to assist everyone who needed medical attention, regardless of the patient’s social status. Still, the fact that he was about to operate on a known murderer made Paladin uneasy. He nudged the edge of Roper’s file folder, squaring up the bottom with the edge of his desk. The handwritten sticky note on the file cover stated the man’s condition in layman’s terms:

He picked up the folder, angling it in the sunlight. Surprised at the thickness of the file, he leafed idly through the papers. Typewritten pages gave way to computer printouts. Officials’ names varied, police departments and prisons changed, but the constant of King Roper’s career remained unvarying. Unless severity in his crimes constituted a shift. Paladin glanced at the top page. Smuggling, trafficking, kidnapping, murder. An assault on at least three in law enforcement.

Paladin lowered the folder slowly to his desktop. This was not going to be easy, surgery on the arm of someone so vile, so repulsive to his own morals. He gazed at the window, not really seeing it, but instead picturing what Roper might look like, what his personality might be. The face never did come into sharp focus, but no matter the presumed height, weight, or body type, Roper’s image always ended up with dark hair and eyes. Perhaps it was a throwback to good versus evil, light versus dark. He most likely was muscular, Paladin thought, and perhaps his body carried physical remnants of fights he’d had. Perhaps he was unscathed, his fingernails manicured and his face clean-shaven, signs that his underlings did the actual dirty work. Or perhaps he stuck his manicured hand into it every so often, the taste for blood or the thrill of wielding the knife too strong to cede. Whatever Roper turned out to be, both visions repulsed Paladin, and he found himself stiffening. Am I patching him up so he can continue inf
licting harm, perhaps murdering again? Is that why I’m a surgeon?

The minutes slipped away as the sunlight slowly slid across his desk. His Hippocratic oath guaranteed he’d do his best during Roper’s operation. But his family and faceless, nameless others whispered to him, silently asking for a surgical accident. Things routinely go wrong on the table; could he rid the world of this monster? Would it honestly matter to Society if he did? He glanced at the brass-cased clock on his desk. 0610 hours. Surgery on King Roper wasn’t until 1100. He had five hours to struggle with his conscience.

About the Author: A month-long trip to England during her college years introduced Jo to the joys of Things British. Since then, she has been lured back nearly a dozen times and lived there during her professional folksinging stint.

Jo’s insistence for accuracy–from police methods and location layout to the general “feel” of the area–has driven her innumerable times to Derbyshire for research. These explorations and conferences with police friends provide the details filling both her Peak District mysteries and the McLaren mystery series.

In 1999 Jo returned to Webster University to major in English. She graduated in 2001 with a BA degree and departmental honors.

Her McLaren mystery, BLACK MOON, received the ‘N.N. Light Best Mystery Book’ award for 2019.

Jo lives with her cat, Tennyson, and way too many kilts in the St. Louis-area.

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Poisoned Pawn by David Siegel Bernstein

February 28, 2020 By 9 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. David Siegel Bernstein will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

I want to start by thanking Long and Short Reviews for taking the time for this interview. Okay, let’s get down to business. Here are a bunch of things that (I think) most people don’t know (or guess) about me. Well, here we go.

1. I was on the television show Bozo the Clown. Don’t judge me. I was a cute kid.

2. To go with my tough guy motif, I own a Toy Poodle named Ringo Biggles Woofington. He may, or may not, have a guess appearance in Poisoned Pawn. I have included a photo of him.

3. I am a black belt in Tae Kwon Do (the style of combat the main character uses in Poisoned Pawn)

4. To support my writing addiction and excessively extravagant lifestyle, I am a data scientist and forensic statistician.

5. My hobbies include reinventing the wheel, the Sisyphus relief project, and referring to myself in third person as THE David lest fools confuse me with the other ones.

6. I have a kick-ass comic collection (which makes me popular with the ladies… right?).

7. I am a firm believer in supporting the writing community. I am on the board of directors for the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference and I lead the writers group Words-in-Progress.

8. I have a PhD.

9. I enjoy a good game of chess.

10. I served in the Civil Air Patrol

(bonus: I play a mean Axe. Yep, I jam on the guitar Guitar)

That’s it from me. Feel free to comment with interesting facts about yourself. Or impress me by posting a fact about me that you’ve discovered. Cheers!

Caleb Jacobs is a man with a past. After serving on a failed dark ops assignment in Afghanistan, he leaves Marine Corps Intelligence to try to build a new life in Philadelphia as a homicide police detective.

Jacobs is happy, for a time, until he is assigned to solve the murder of Shannon Faraday. During the investigation, he is convinced the evidence points to him as the killer. He knows it is only a matter of time before other investigators see the same. He has no alibi and the clock is counting down.

Behind his partner’s back, Jacobs hires a private investigator named Lawrence Holmes. The PI is an irritation to the police, but he is unmistakably brilliant. And, many powerful people in the city owe him favors. Holmes is a bit odd. He insists on calling Jacobs Watson but claims to never have heard the name Sherlock. Jacobs can live with this kind of crazy as long as together they find the real killer.

They quickly link the murder to a series of seemingly unrelated crimes occurring throughout Philadelphia, and Jacobs becomes convinced the murder is related to the truth of what had happened during his time in Afghanistan. Old secrets have come back to haunt him.

Read an Excerpt

I felt like shit for having to hire a private investigator, especially one who was most likely insane. Still, I couldn’t deny that his type of crazy got results. Reluctantly I handed over an envelope to the man sitting on the sun-bleached bench.

He opened it. Satisfied with my offering, he slid it into his jacket. “Ah, Watson,” he said. “Good to see you again.”

I shook my head and dropped onto the bench next to him. “My name is Jacobs. Caleb Jacobs,” I said, hoping the reminder might stick this time.

He turned to me. “Did you say something?”

I sighed. “No, Holmes.”

If I wasn’t desperate for his help, I’d strangle him. Of course my superiors at the Philadelphia Homicide Unit wouldn’t appreciate that. But I wondered if a cop hiring a private investigator was any worse of a violation. I needed Lawrence Holmes for his connections and unique viewpoint, things my PHU colleagues couldn’t provide. He might not be the fictional character he played at, but he was a talented PI.

About the Author:

To support his writing addiction and excessively extravagant lifestyle, David Siegel Bernstein, PhD, is a data scientist who consults as a forensic statistician. That sounds really boring until you realize that his clients include the US National Security Agency (NSA), the Secret Service, the FBI, the Department of Justice (DOJ), and a host of other acronymonious agencies who cultivate exciting and shadowy reputations. Alas, those reputations are mere facades that disguise the real reason these organizations exist, which is to keep him entertained and fed.

When David wants a break from this spellbinding work, he writes. His fiction credits encompass two novelettes and sixty shorts. His nonfiction has appeared in newsletters, popular blogs, academic journals and he is the author of the book Blockbuster Science: The Real Science in Science Fiction.

He lives within the shadow of Philadelphia with his wife, Michelle, two children, Seth and Gwendolyn, and a dog named Ringo Biggles Woofington.


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The hardest part about writing is… by Roger Peppercorn – Guest Blog and Giveaway

February 18, 2020 By 20 Comments


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Roger Peppercorn will be awarding a $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The hardest part about writing is…

The hardest part about is more than a few things. The easy part is finding a topic that moves you. I think writers in general don’t struggle much with what to write about. There is a story each of us wants to tell but the hardest thing I think is to find your voice. There are hundreds of thousands of wordsmiths today and finding a voice that is unique to you and that captures the imagination and steadfast interest of the readers are hardest part of writing.

From the earliest of days philosophers and storytellers have found a way to leave lasting impressions that have stood the test of time. From Socrates to Whitman and Harper to Rowling the words they put on the blank page have lasted and inspired generations of storytellers through today and will inspire writers to the end of time. Their voices are as unique as the stories they craft.

To find it you must allow the words to appear on the page and without the noise of the world around you. You will know your own voice when you get out of your own way long enough to let the story come out of you.

I said there are few things and one of the other hard thing to do is knowing when to end the story and when to stop tweaking it. When I wrote my first book I read, deleted, added, moved and changed it so much that I realized at some point that I was one key stroke away from delete all. You always think there is something to add or delete. Put it down, let the story breathe for a bit and the next time you pick it up read it for the pleasure of the story. If you get lost in a story you have written then you’ve done your job. Give it over to the editor and let them help you make it better.

The last hard thing about writing almost anything is your readership or the lack of one. And then there are the comments sections. I have gotten reviews that give me the impression I may just be the next great American novelist and I have gotten reviews that point in an entirely different direction and make me rethink my choses in life.

The point is this not everything you write or create will resonate with an audience. Your voice is in there somewhere just let it come out and when you are through it won’t be perfect but it will be yours and you will have gotten something across the finish line that few people accomplish.

Thank you to Long and Short Reviews for a spot in your guest blog
Roger Peppercorn

With the drop of a judge’s gavel, Walt Walker has finally lost everything. The badge and gun he used to carry and the moral certainty of right and wrong, good and evil that used to keep him grounded. Now Walt, sans gun, gets his badges from an Army Navy store. He spends his days in South Florida, working for a boutique insurance firm as their investigator. He spends his nights in dive bars, trying to forget the mess he has made of his life.

Ronald Jacobs always preferred the title Human Resource Manger to Hitman. But now that he’s retired, he can concentrate on living in the shadows as a respectable gentlemen farmer. Far from the reach and pull of his past life.

Their transgressions are behind them but a chance encounter and a failed assassination attempt sets the two of them on a collision course of violence and retribution. Hunted by contract killers, the law, and corporate bag men, they are pursued across the unforgiving adobes and the sweeping vistas of the Mesa Valley in Western Colorado.

Survival means putting their past in front of them and their differences aside, because in this world the only thing that matters is to cast not others on the devil’s side of heaven, lest you be cast in with them.

Enjoy an Excerpt

A little after midnight on a clear and cold morning in March, Jimmy Dix parked his car three miles from the farmhouse. From here it would all be on foot. The sky, dark and overcast, would cover his approach to the farmhouse situated in the adobe desert, fifteen miles from the little town of Loma, CO. His target presumably would be asleep and unaware of his impending death.

Big Max Benson had been clear in his instructions. The job had to be tonight. Jimmy hadn’t bothered to ask why. Fifteen thousand dollars had been more than enough to silence any idle curiosity he may have had. And the promise to convert all the red ink that bore Jimmy’s name in Big Max’s ledger to black had been the clincher. He had driven fifteen hours in a rental car he had picked up in a hotel parking lot just outside of Billings, MT. In the trunk, Big Max had left a cut down 12 gauge shotgun, an AR-15 and a 9 mm pistol. Each weapon had come with more than enough ammo to do the job. Jimmy had brought along his own set of NVGs for the nighttime raid.

He sat in the car, staring out the windshield, thinking about the three mile hike he had in front of him. The car heater was cranked up to high. The dashboard clock read 12:02; the hike would take him about an hour. He thought about the task at hand. After he arrived, he would need probably thirty minutes to scout his final approach plus maybe another fifteen to twenty minutes to get set up. Maybe another five minutes to carry out the job. Jimmy did the math in his head and figured that worst case scenario, he would be back in the car no later than 4 a.m. This would leave him more than enough time to get clear of the area. Jimmy smiled at the thought of coming in under the cover of darkness, killing someone and then leaving under the same veil before any cops showed up.

About the Author: Roger Peppercorn has suffered for the better part of his life from wanderlust and this need to see the other side of the horizon has taken him to all parts of the world. The people and backdrop of his travels have served as the inspiration behind his characters and storytelling.

As a child, his mother taught him to read and write. His father’s collection of Louis Lamour novels provoked the fantastical images in his mind and the romance of the written word. In the seventh grade, his history teacher brought the characters of a bygone era alive. From that point on, Roger began to hone his skills in storytelling. After high school, Roger took a course in creative writing that was taught by a long haired hippy in a Hawaiian shirt.

Roger’s grandmother used to tell hypothetical tales of traveling across the plains in a covered wagon, the woes of having a son sent off to war, and the larger-than-life man she met at Pea Green Hall who later became her husband.

His first two novels “On The Devils Side of Heaven” and “The Sometimes Long Road Home” take place on the western slopes of Colorado, in the sleepy town of Fruita, where he grew up. They center on the strained relationships and sorted histories of three characters – Walt, Ronald and Jessica, and violence that erupts around them.

Roger is married and is a father of four beautiful children. He currently calls South Dakota his home.

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Bruce Willis and A Midsummer Night’s Dream by Joe Cosentino – Guest Blog and Giveaway

February 3, 2020 By 1 Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Joe Cosentino who is celebrating the recent release of Drama Faerie, the 9th Nicky and Noah Mystery. Post a comment about why you love faeries. The one that tickles our tights and tunics the most will win an audiobook of Drama Queen, the first Nicky and Noah mystery, by Joe Cosentino, performed by Michael Gilboe.

BRUCE WILLIS AND A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM

As a young actor, I performed in a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream opposite Bruce Willis. That was certainly an exciting experience. As you can imagine, I found him to be witty, kind, and a good actor. He even tried to match me up with someone. While that didn’t work out, I believe our production was well acted, directed, staged, and designed, I realized later the play script is truly perfect. That is probably why the play has inspired so many movies in its image, the most popular being Were the World Mine and A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy. Who can resist the play’s stirring sexuality, midnight romance, bawdy humor, and magic and mysticism as the spirit world collides with the mortal world? We enjoy laughing at our own foibles as lovers make fools of themselves—in both our world and in the world of the faeries. We marvel as a magic potion in the hands of a mischievous faerie sidekick changes the underdog to the desired one in matters of the heart, and a queen becomes vulnerable to the love of an ass. Finally, we cheer as all is well that ends well.

So, when it came time to write the ninth Nicky and Noah mystery novel, I couldn’t resist having a Globe Theatre replica built at Treemeadow College for an all-male (as in Elizabethan days) production of my favorite Shakespeare play. Did I mention it’s a musical version of the show called It Takes a Fairy for Love in the End? My leading character, college theatre professor Nicky Abbondanza, directs and co-stars (as Oberon, the Faerie King) opposite his husband and colleague Noah (as Titania, the Queen of the Faeries), their son Taavi (Oberon’s mischievous servant Puck), and best friend and department head Martin (Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazon). True to Shakespeare’s original, there are lots of comical hijinks, particularly among the theatre students cast in the show—with their muscles rippling out of their tunics, and bulges expanding their tights. Gender role reversals and comical musical numbers add to the hilarity. When hunky students and faculty in the production drop faster than their tunics and tights, Nicky and Noah need to use their drama skills to figure out who is taking fencing to the extreme before Nicky and Noah end up foiled in the forest. Old beloved cast members are back, including Nicky’s best friends the comically cantankerous Martin and Ruben, Martin’s sassy office assistant Shayla, Nicky’s droll nemesis Detective Manuello, and Nicky and Noah’s both sets of riotous parents. New characters include hunky theatre majors Ray Zhang (Demetrius), Elliot Hinton (Lysander), and graduate assistant Yates Aldrich (Lysander’s understudy). True to the play, the three guys are all hot for raven-haired Braedon Walsh (Hermia) to the chagrin of Braedon’s best friend Enoch Grayson (Helena). Rounding out the cast are punk rocker Talvin Moore (Demetrius’ understudy) who has caught the attention of Ganesh Ghosh (Titania’s boy). Add to the mix a clumsy prop girl who can’t keep the swords (or the actors) straight. Not to mention Detective Manuello (Bottom/Pyramus) may have an admirer in Associate Professor of Fencing Hank Brickman (Flute/Thisby). With Congressman Christian Evangelica determined to close down the show for including faeries and bottoms, havoc certainly ensues. Since it is a murder mystery novel, there are more murders than (as Nicky would say) anti-gay politicians in the back room of a gay bar during a blackout. As in the first eight novels in the series, Nicky and Noah use their theatrical skills to trap the murderer in a shocking climax—no pun intended.

For those of you who haven’t yet ventured to the land of Nicky and Noah, it’s a gay cozy mystery comedy series, meaning the setting is warm and cozy, the clues and murders (and laughs) come fast and furious, and there are enough plot twists and turns and a surprise ending to keep the pages turning (as Nicky would say) faster than a priest facing an altar boy with a robe malfunction. At the center is the touching relationship between Professor of Play Directing Nicky Abbondanza and Associate Professor of Acting Noah Oliver. We watch them go from courting to marrying to adopting a child, all the while head over heels in love with each other (as we fall in love with them). Reviewers called the series “hysterically funny farce,” “Murder She Wrote meets Hart to Hart meets The Hardy Boys,” and “captivating whodunits.” One reviewer wrote they are the funniest books she’s ever read! Another said I’m “a master storyteller.” Who am I to argue? As a past professional actor and current college theatre professor/department chair, I know first-hand the wild and wacky antics, sweet romance, and captivating mystery in the worlds of theatre and academia. My books are full of them!

In honor of my wonderful experience with Bruce Willis and A Midsummer Night’s Dream many years ago, it is my joy and pleasure to share this ninth novel in my award-winning Nicky and Noah mystery series with you. So take your seats. The curtain is going up on faeries, bewitched lovers, an Amazon queen, a hungry Bottom, and of course hilarity, romance, and murder!

It’s summer at Treemeadow College’s new Globe Theatre, where theatre professor Nicky Abbondanza is directing a musical production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream co-starring his spouse, theatre professor Noah Oliver, their son Taavi, and their best friend and department head, Martin Anderson. With an all-male, skimpily dressed cast and a love potion gone wild, romance is in the starry night air. When hunky students and faculty in the production drop faster than their tunics and tights, Nicky and Noah will need to use their drama skills to figure out who is taking swordplay to the extreme before Nicky and Noah end up foiled in the forest. You will be applauding and shouting Bravo for Joe Cosentino’s fast-paced, side-splittingly funny, edge-of-your-seat entertaining ninth novel in this delightful series. Take your seats. The curtain is going up on star-crossed young lovers, a faerie queen, an ass who is a great Bottom, and murder!

Praise for the Nicky and Noah mysteries:

“Joe Cosentino has a unique and fabulous gift. His writing is flawless, and his use of farce, along with his convoluted plot-lines, will have you guessing until the very last page, which makes his books a joy to read. His books are worth their weight in gold, and if you haven’t discovered them yet you are in for a rare treat.” Divine Magazine

“a combination of Laurel and Hardy mixed with Hitchcock and Murder She Wrote…
Loaded with puns and one-liners…Right to the end, you are kept guessing, and the conclusion still has a surprise in store for you.” “the best modern Sherlock and Watson in books today…I highly recommend this book and the entire series, it’s a pure pleasure, full of fun and love, written with talent and brio…fabulous…brilliant” Optimumm Book Reviews

“adventure, mystery, and romance with every page….Funny, clever, and sweet….I can’t find anything not to love about this series….This read had me laughing and falling in love….Nicky and Noah are my favorite gay couple.” Urban Book Reviews

“For fans of Joe Cosentino’s hilarious mysteries, this is another vintage story with more cheeky asides and sub plots right left and centre….The story is fast paced, funny and sassy. The writing is very witty with lots of tongue-in-cheek humour….Highly recommended.” Boy Meets Boy Reviews

“Every entry of the Nicky and Noah mystery series is rife with intrigue, calamity, and hilarity…Cosentino keeps us guessing – and laughing – until the end, as well as leaving us breathlessly anticipating the next Nicky and Noah thriller.” Edge Media Network

“A laugh and a murder, done in the style we have all come to love….This had me from the first paragraph….Another wonderful story with characters you know and love!” Crystals Many Reviewers

“These two are so entertaining….Their tactics in finding clues and the crazy funny interactions between characters keeps the pages turning. For most of the book if I wasn’t laughing I was grinning.” Jo and Isa Love Books

“Superb fun from start to finish, for me this series gets stronger with every book and that’s saying something because the benchmark was set so very high with book 1.” Three Books Over the Rainbow

“The Nicky and Noah Mysteries series are perfect for fans of the Cozy Mystery sub-genre. They mix tongue-in-cheek humor, over-the-top characters, a wee bit of political commentary, and suspense into a sweet little mystery solved by Nicky and Noah, theatre professors for whom all the world’s a stage.” Prism Book Alliance

“This is one hilarious series with a heart and it just keeps getting better. I highly recommend them all, and please read them in the order they were written for full blown laugh out loud reading pleasure!” Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

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The silver starlight cast its enchanted glow on a forest in Athens, Greece. Faeries in G-strings and garlands made of multicolored flowers bend over the resting Queen of the Faeries as they sing a rousing “It’s All Greek To Me.” A Greek horos turns into a hip shaking Calypso number. After the climax, the exhausted faeries become covered in a puff of smoke, which rapidly increases in volume. The disappearing faeries hack and gasp for air.

“Stop! We aren’t doing Summer and Smoke people.” It’s me, Nicky Abbondanza, PhD, Professor of Play Directing at Treemeadow College, a cozy Edwardian white stone college surrounded by a cozy lake and cozy mountains in a cozy tree-laden town in cozy white church-steepled Vermont. Cozy, huh? I’m tall, with dark hair and long sideburns, emerald eyes, and olive skin thanks to my parents’ genes—which, like Dorothy, live with my folks in Kansas. Thanks to the gym on campus, I’m pretty muscular. My sense of humor has been called snide, snarky, and cocky. Ah, speaking of cocky, I have a nearly foot-long penis. Just thought I’d throw that out there. Well, not literally. However, I have used that little, or should I say not so little, endowment to help me solve some of my previous cases. I’m not a detective…exactly. I’m what cozy mystery readers call an armchair detective or amateur sleuth, having solved eight mass murder cases that stumped local detectives in Alaska, Hawaii, Scotland, and of course at Treemeadow College.
Treemeadow was named after its original founders, gay couple Harold Tree and Jacob Meadow, who are enshrined in statues at the college’s entrance—right under the dive-bomber pigeons. Following in our founder’s bronze footsteps are my best friend and department head, Professor of Theatre Management Martin Anderson, and his longtime husband, Ruben Markinson. Ditto for my hubby, Associate Professor of Acting Noah Oliver, and yours truly. Why am I sitting on an uncomfortable wooden bench watching student technicians repair an overactive smoke machine on the stage above me?

Martin had an idea to build a replica of Shakespeare’s Elizabethan Globe Theatre on a barren piece of land in our college campus. After doing some research, he found a grant from a business in China supporting Global Awareness projects. Incorrectly assuming the grant was to build a Globe Theatre, Martin threatened to hide Ruben’s diapers until Ruben filled out the application. Ruben, the retired CEO of a gay rights organization, as a master grant writer, secured the grant, which will culminate in a visit from the Chinese donors to observe Treemeadow’s progress in “world relations.” Martin’s response to this piece of news was, “Since they don’t speak English, we can tell them the play fosters better global relations.” I explained that many business people in China speak English. Martin retorted, “Most people who speak English don’t understand Shakespeare.”

Since our premiere production in the new space performs in the summertime, we selected A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Martin wanted to set the play in the back room at Republican Party headquarters after they hired male strippers to celebrate the party’s (no pun intended) latest anti-gay legislation. When I, as play director, nixed that idea, Martin pitched a Mormon elders secret initiation meeting, or a seminary shower room during a blackout. I opted instead for the authentic Elizabethan approach, where male actors play all the roles, both male and female characters, just like in the days of Shakespeare. After Martin threatened to give me an eight-a.m. class every semester for the rest of my life, I agreed to let Martin add original songs to the production, rendering our show A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the musical, or as Martin calls it, You Need a Faerie for Love in the End.
Having rehearsed for a month, we are now in tech week. That’s the hallowed time when we put all the elements of the show together—acting, song, dance, costumes, props, sets, music, lighting, special effects—culminating in a nervous breakdown for yours truly.

I am playing Oberon, aptly named King of the Faeries. As for my costume, I can tell you first-hand that G-strings itch, silver satin drapes fall off, cellophane wings poke into people (making fast enemies), and a huge crown gives you a huge headache. My gorgeous husband Noah is Titania, Queen of the Faeries (pun intended). Our adopted son from Hawaii, Taavi Oliver Abbondanza Kapule (try saying that three times fast with your mouth full of poi), threatened to report us to Child Protection Services if I didn’t cast him as Puck, trickster servant to Oberon. At only twelve years old, since our son has been with us, he’s acted in two movies, a Broadway musical, and a ballet. At this point, in order to get Taavi to eat his breakfast, Noah and I need to ask for his autograph. He’s definitely one of the family.

“How’s my faerie king holding up?” Noah sat next to me, looking scrumptious with his marine blue eyes and peaches and cream skin surrounded by a long blond wig. At thirty-four, Noah is seven years younger than me, but who’s counting years? Now that I’m over forty, I am! He hugged me, and our faerie wigs collided—a hazard of the faerie trade.

I rested my head on my husband’s soft shoulder and basked in the scent of his strawberry shampoo. “What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock. Two hours before faeries roam the theatre.”

“Faeries roam the theatre morning, noon, and night.” I glanced around. “Especially this theatre.”

Noah arranged the silver satin woodsy gown around his long legs. “I like playing your faerie queen.” He giggled. “On stage and off.”

“You know I’d have it no other way.”

He nuzzled his face into the fold at my neck. “Tell me about it.”

“You’re the love of my life, the perfect Watson to my Holmes.” We shared a kiss, which brought me back to consciousness.

About the Author:Joe Cosentino was voted Favorite LGBT Mystery, Humorous, and Contemporary Author of the Year by the readers of Divine Magazine for Drama Queen. He also wrote the other novels in the Nicky and Noah mystery series: Drama Muscle, Drama Cruise, Drama Luau, Drama Detective, Drama Fraternity, Drama Castle, Drama Dance, Drama Faerie; the Dreamspinner Press novellas: In My Heart/An Infatuation & A Shooting Star, the Bobby and Paolo Holiday Stories: A Home for the Holidays/The Perfect Gift/The First Noel, The Naked Prince and Other Tales from Fairyland with Holiday Tales from Fairyland; the Cozzi Cove series: Cozzi Cove: Bouncing Back, Cozzi Cove: Moving Forward, Cozzi Cove: Stepping Out, Cozzi Cove: New Beginnings, Cozzi Cove: Happy Endings (NineStar Press); and the Jana Lane mysteries: Paper Doll, Porcelain Doll, Satin Doll, China Doll, Rag Doll (The Wild Rose Press). He has appeared in principal acting roles in film, television, and theatre, opposite stars such as Bruce Willis, Rosie O’Donnell, Nathan Lane, Holland Taylor, and Jason Robards. Joe is currently Chair of the Department/Professor at a college in upstate New York, and he is happily married. Joe’s books have received numerous Favorite Book of the Month Awards and Rainbow Award Honorable Mentions.

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Stormwatch Series: Snow Blind by Cindy Gerard — Spotlight and Giveaway

January 17, 2020 By 8 Comments


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will award a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

STORMWATCH series blurb:

The storm sweeps in like a thief in the night… Winter storm Holly is the worst in eighty years bringing high winds, subzero temperatures and snowfall better measured in feet than in inches. The weather paralyzes everything in its path, but in this storm, weather isn’t the only threat.

A new installment of STORMWATCH releases each Thursday starting December 5 through January 9. Each thrilling full length novel is a standalone story with no cliffhangers. Don’t miss a single one from half a dozen of the genre’s bestselling storytellers!

December 5 – Frozen Ground by Debra Webb
December 12 – Deep Freeze by Vicki Hinze
December 19 – Wind Chill by Rita Herron
December 26 – Black Ice by Regan Black
January 2 – Snow Brides by Peggy Webb
January 9 – Snow Blind by Cindy Gerard

Stormwatch series at Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07YZB1FZR

It started out as a simple recon mission – then the worst happened. Recon evolved into an imminent threat and Rapid Response Alliance operatives, Cara Graves and Josh Haskins find themselves with less than 48 hours to circumvent a nuclear disaster. Fighting against the clock and the worst blizzard to hit the Midwest in almost a century, Cara and Josh risk everything – including their feelings for each other – to stop what the terrorists hope will be Armageddon.


READ AN EXCERPT
“Sit. Rest,”Cara ordered before jumping out of the truck, leaving it running with the heater on full blast. “I’ve got this.”

Josh lost sight of her as she bucked the wind and rounded the cab toward the truck bed. He knew what she was after. This was no time for subtlety.

When she walked back to the front of the truck again, she had a tire iron in her hand. He couldn’t hear the glass break above the wind, but he saw the moment she slammed the heavy iron into a window in the back of the store. Wasting no time, she used the tire iron to clear the glass shards from the frame, then hitched herself up and crawled through the open window.

He closed his eyes. Absorbed the warmth from the heater. Mentally assessed his injuries, then checked his face in the rear-view mirror. Damn. He looked like he’d been run through a meat grinder. His cheek and eye were both swollen but the cut had quit bleeding.

Remembering that he’d spotted some fast foot napkins in the glove box, he leaned forward and rummaged around until he found them, then made an attempt to clean some of the dried blood off of his face. Better but not great. The lump on the back of his head had given him a helluva a headache and though they hurt like the devil, he suspected his ribs were bruised but not cracked or broken.

Over all, he’d had worse. He’d been worse. But at the moment, he couldn’t remember when.

A light came on in the back room, grabbing his attention. And a few minutes after that, Cara pushed the store’s back door open and hurried back to the truck.

He opened the window so she could hand up two rifles, two 9mm S&W handguns, magazines for all four weapons and several boxes of ammunition.

He wanted to kiss her. But there wasn’t time. “We could use a GPS,” he suggested as she climbed back up into the truck and behind the wheel.

She shot him a tight smile, unzipped her jacket and reached inside. “Will this do?”

A box with a brand new GPS landed on his lap.

He took stock of the ammo and magazines and stacked it on the console between them.

“Enough?” she asked.

Josh gave her a grim nod. “Depends on if we get there in time. Let’s roll.”

God’s honest truth, he didn’t know if they had enough of anything to face off with Matthews and his four goons. Another truth – it was going to have to be. Unless a miracle happened, they were on their own.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times and USA Today Bestseller Cindy Gerard has fifty titles in print. In addition to 7 RITA nominations and 2 Rita wins, Cindy has numerous RT nominations and various awards to her credit. Each book of her single title romantic suspense series, Black Ops Inc, has appeared on the New York Times Bestseller top 20 list. Cindy writes sexy, heart-pounding romantic suspense and has had her work twice featured in COSMOPOLITAN Magazine as Red Hot Reads.

Cindy Gerard online:

Website: https://www.cindygerard.com/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cindy-Gerard/e/B001IGQTNC
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/cindy-gerard
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Cindy-Gerard-New-York-Times-Best-selling-author-167877057439/
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/cindygerard

Exclusively on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/SNOW-BLIND-STORMWATCH-Book-6-ebook/dp/B07YGSFSPS


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What Kind of Writer Am I? by Lanny Larcinese – Guest Blog and Giveaway

January 17, 2020 By 8 Comments


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Lanny Larcinese will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

What Kind of Writer Am I?
I identify first and foremost as a crime writer. Secondarily, I am a noir crime writer but with literary influences. Let me elaborate…

Noir scholars and purists will argue its definition. I listen to none of them. To me, noir is like the blues, a state of mind, a way of seeing the world and its people, and if you possess such a state of mind, as with blues, everything you do as an artist will have that tinge. That’s me all day.

But tinge of what? This: A view of people constantly in a state of struggle to sustain their better angels against natural survival instincts like tribalism, greed, lust, and other deadly sins. Sometimes they prevail in the struggle, often not, and when not, to greater or lesser degrees. All my stories reflect characters in the throes of such a struggle. They could be the good guys and/or the bad guys. The provenance of my stories always begins with such a character, as in my book, Death in the Family.

Donny Lentini is nice, talented, but has an unfulfilled need that screams in his head and heart for redemption. Then, I created plot events to put him under stress, then more stress, then more, and watched as he first flounders, then get his head together and at the climax, we find out if he comes out whole or not. Conventional noir characters often know what they are after is wrong, but they go for it anyway. My characters are not that craven. My characters want to do the right thing, but fate or circumstances won’t let them.

As for literary, I’m mindful of this description of literary writing: Not much happens but a lot goes on. Literary mavens, people partial to lit-tra-toor, will say they like the quality of the writing. I get that. Also, the description is fit—a lot of inner landscape stuff, morality tales, subtle shifts in perception, fulfillment through insight. I joke about it, but truth be known, much of it is also in my stories.

But I am a crime writer, crime/crime, by which I mean not procedural, not P.I., not cozy, not thriller, not any other permutation of the genre now on shelves or soon to be there. That means there will be a few homicides, some bad guys and others downright despicable, things blown up or set ablaze…you know, stuff on the six o’clock news. There will also be a mystery chased by my (anti)hero, not only whodunit but whydunit.

As I do this, as I write, this is where the literary comes in: I love language. I am Italian. We invented opera. It’s a high bar and why I am given to the occasional serpentine sentence written as much for musicality as density of information. But only occasionally. After all, the beautiful aria is made more so by its infrequency. I could break such sentences down Hemmingwayesque, but won’t. Clarity and punch is good, but ain’t opera. In my lexicon, both are possible.

So what kind of writer am I? I am a genre writer, a crime writer with a noir outlook but don’t always write in hard-boiled style. I prefer a graceful style, or as close to that as I can get without sacrificing clarity. This is why I don’t join critique groups. Even editors, I need the support of people who get what I am doing.

I will conclude with this wise and wonderful insight: “All stories have been told, different only in the manner by which they are told.”

Donny Lentini is a talented young man hungry for his mother’s love. To please her, he becomes guardian angel to his mob-wannabe father. When the father is murdered and found with his hands hacked off, Donny is dealt a set of cards in a game called vengeance. The pot is stacked high with chips; the ante, his soul and the lives of loved-ones. With the help of friends—ex-con, defrocked Jesuit Bill Conlon along with former high-school nemesis, Antwyne Claxton—he digs for whether the murder had anything to do with the mob’s lust for a real estate parcel owned by the family of Donny’s lover. He’s new at this game. He doesn’t cheat, but plays his cards well. And he gets what he wants.

Enjoy an Excerpt

There is a purity to poker, moments of truth untethered to motive or morals, moments philosophers never examine—clean moments, as when a Great White draws back its lips and embraces a neck in its four-inch serrated teeth—moments neither Dad nor German Kruger understood.

One by one I looked them in the eye. Everybody dropped except German who raised and called. I flipped my hole cards. “Three cowboys.” Moans from around the table.

I raked in the seven-hundred-dollar pot. Any day I stuck a pencil in German’s eye was a good day.

“What the fuck is it with you?” he said. “You win four, five pots every Friday.”

Dad kicked my shin under the table.

“I know what I’m doing,” I said, clacking chips from one hand to the other. The other guys pushed out their chairs. Dad kept a straight face. In the millisecond his eyes met mine they became beacons warning of dangerous shoals.

German’s pallor couldn’t compete against the crimson flush ringing his flabby neck. He pointed to my father. “You, Carlo, get your ass into my office. And you,” he said, pointing to me, “you need to hear this too.”

He had that same twisted look on his face, the one I first saw two years before when I took him for a thousand fazools over the Superbowl.

He collapsed into his huge leather chair.

The red on his neck and ears turned a deeper shade as if a chameleon lit onto a cranberry bog. “I’m talkin’ about how you let that fucking union get aholt of office cleaners before you brought ’em to us. You get a piece of that, Carlo? You doin’ shit on the side?”

About the Author: Lanny Larcinese ‘s short work has appeared in magazines and has won a handful of local prizes. He lives in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He’s a native mid-westerner transplanted to the City of Brotherly Love where he has been writing fiction for seven years. When not writing, he lets his daughter, Amanda, charm him out of his socks, and works at impressing Jackie, his long-time companion who keeps him honest and laughing—in addition to being his first-line writing critic. He also spends more time than he should on Facebook but feels suitably guilty for it.

Website
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Winter Blogfest: Tena Stetler

December 31, 2019 By 17 Comments


This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win One $10.00 amazon gift card.

New Year’s Resolutions

When my hubby and I left the fifth wheel all snug in a storage space under its cover until next spring, I said the holidays will be here before you know it. He chuckled and said, “Don’t I know it.”

In the blink of an eye, Christmas is knocking at the door, filled with family, friends and a great time to be had by all. Another year passed, but what was accomplished? Surprisingly, I met all of my 2019 New Year’s resolutions of 5,000 words written each week, won NaNoWriMo, 50,000 words in 30 days (but it was close),a new book contracted, I managed two, and spend quality time with family and friends. My list was short but attainable.  I try to keep it that way each year. 

This year in front of the Christmas tree decorated with bright multi-colored lights and ornaments that evoke wonderful memories, I ponder what the New Year will bring. I hope to have more quiet walks with the dog, more playtime with our parrot, take time to appreciate  and enjoy each day,  and  while working towards my professional goals, gonna up my word count goal to 6,000 words written in a week this year, take more time for family and friends.  

What are your New Year’s Resolutions? 
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For several months a Scottish Highland Ghost has haunted Daylan, in his personal life, his professional life and at his forge. Yet, being a talented warlock, he is no closer to discovering what the ghost wants or why he chose Daylan. A trip to his estranged sister’s home in Colorado may have unforeseen consequences especially when family history leads him to a shocking discovery.
As his attraction blooms for Josie, a yoga instructor in his sister’s studio, he realizes there may be more to Josie than he can imagine. When an ancient rogue Fae Warrior set on revenge kidnaps her in an attempt to claim her as his own, a devastating curse comes to light.
Daylan’s world spirals out of control as he searches for Josie. Can he break the age old curse to save her and their future, or will she be lost to him forever?

Tena Stetler is a best-selling author of award winning paranormal romance novels. She has an over-active imagination, which led to writing her first vampire romance as a tween to the chagrin of her mother and delight of her friends.
With the Rocky Mountains outside her window, she sits at her computer surrounded by a wide array of paranormal creatures, with a Navy SEAL or two mixed in telling their tales. Her books tell stories of magical kick-ass women and strong mystical males that dare to love them. Travel, adventure and a bit of mystery flourish in her books along with a few companion animals to round out the tales.
Colorado is her home; shared with her husband of many moons, a brilliant Chow Chow, a spoiled parrot and a forty-five-year-old box turtle. Any winter evening, you can find her curled up in front of a crackling fire with a good book, a mug of hot chocolate and a big bowl of popcorn.

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Winter Blogfest: Joanne Guidoccio

December 30, 2019 By 10 Comments


This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a free eBook of A Season for Killing Blondes.

Francesca’s Chocolate Snowballs

Scalilli. Turdilli. Crostoli. Grispelle. Biscotti. Pizzelle. I have fond memories of all those Italian desserts my mother and grandmother prepared during the Christmas season. They would start baking early in December and then make more batches as the month progressed.

While I enjoyed partaking, I was not overly thrilled with the amount of work involved. In fact, delicious and labor intensive would be two apt descriptions for many of the entrées and desserts that emerged from my mother’s kitchen.

One Christmas in the early 1970s, my mother presented a different kind of dessert. She placed a dish filled with unusual shapes on the table and said, “Help yourself to a snowball.”

A dessert that didn’t end in a vowel…definitely a mangiacake food!

*Definition of mangiacake: From Italian mangiare to eat + cake, apparently with dismissive reference to the type of food regarded as typically favored by non-Italians in Canada.

But there was nothing dismissive about those snowballs. Delicious and easy-to-prepare, Francesca’s Chocolate Snowballs became part of our family’s Christmas tradition.

Here’s the recipe:

Ingredients

4 ounces Kraft Philadelphia cream cheese, softened
2 tbsp milk
2 cups icing sugar
2 squares unsweetened chocolate
¼ tsp vanilla
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3 cups Kraft miniature marshmallows
2 cups coconut (amount may vary)

Directions

  1. Combine softened cream cheese and milk until well blended.
  2. Gradually add sugar.
  3. Melt chocolate and add to mixture.
  4. Stir in vanilla and salt.
  5. Fold in marshmallows.
  6. Drop rounded teaspoons of the mixture in coconut and toss until well covered.
  7. Place on baking sheet.
  8. Chill for 24 hours or until firm.

Makes 36 snowballs

Hours before the opening of her career counseling practice, Gilda Greco discovers the dead body of golden girl Carrie Ann Godfrey, neatly arranged in the dumpster outside her office. Gilda’s life and budding career are stalled as Detective Carlo Fantin, her former high school crush, conducts the investigation.

When three more dead blondes turn up all brutally strangled and deposited near Gilda’s favorite haunts, she is pegged as a prime suspect for the murders. Frustrated by Carlo’s chilly detective persona and the mean girl antics of Carrie Ann’s meddling relatives, Gilda decides to launch her own investigation. She discovers a gaggle of suspects, among them a yoga instructor in need of anger management training, a lecherous photographer, and fourteen ex-boyfriends.

As the puzzle pieces fall into place, shocking revelations emerge, forcing Gilda to confront the envy and deceit she has long overlooked.

A member of Crime Writers of Canada, Sisters in Crime, and Romance Writers of America, Joanne Guidoccio writes cozy mysteries, paranormal romances, and inspirational literature from her home base of Guelph, Ontario.

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