Death Secrets by January Bain – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. January Bain will be awarding a limited edition print of a wolf family to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A gripping thriller that explores the lengths one will go to for family, and the resilience needed to stand against the darkness.

In the shadow of Alaska’s towering peaks, Anna Hale is haunted by a past painted in flames and betrayal. Marked by the tragic death of her mother and the scars of a childhood marred by violence, Anna has fought tirelessly to build a semblance of normalcy, only to have it shattered again and again. The latest blow comes when her sister, Tia Pace, vanishes without a trace, reigniting old wounds and casting Anna into a nightmare where she’s the prime suspect.

As she grapples with her stepfather’s execution and the weight of suspicion, another crisis looms: Zoe Pace, her other sister, has disappeared in an eerily similar manner. The only clue a sinister black rose and a chilling letter. When her brother Josh, now a dedicated cop in the Anchor Police Department, begs for her assistance, Anna is pulled back into the fray. Despite the agony of reopening old wounds, she embarks on a desperate quest to unravel the mystery of her sisters’ disappearances.

Faced with the unforgiving Alaskan frontier, Anna must confront a tangled web of corruption and deceit, with a copycat killer moving in the shadows. With every tick of the clock, Anna’s hope for a normal life slips further away, but her resolve to find her sisters and bring them home burns fiercer than ever. Will Anna’s journey through the cold, dark paths of Alaska lead her to her sisters, or will she find herself lost in the depths of a conspiracy that threatens to consume everything she holds dear?

Dive into this chilling tale of loss, courage, and the relentless pursuit of justice against the backdrop of Alaska’s unforgiving wilderness. Order your copy now.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Anna Hale cranked up the volume on her headphones, desperate to study for her high school English exam scheduled for the morning, but the hypnotic beat couldn’t mask the loathed voice of her stepfather growing louder by the second.

“You whore! Sneaking around and giving me those pious looks. You don’t think I don’t know better. I should throw you out right now, you and your bitch of a daughter!”

The soft sounds of her mother trying to pacify him were indistinct, impossible for her to hear.

Pass out already, old man.

She tried forcing her mind on the textbook, but the lines of printing blurred, making it hard to concentrate. If the subject at hand was a math or science quiz, she’d ace both without much effort. And that one computer module they’d had this semester had fascinated her. She yearned for a career in data processing, discovering all the secrets. That was if she got a choice. Her stepfather was threatening to make her leave school early to help bring more money into the household. She rolled her eyes in disgust. The guy just couldn’t hold down a job. Never his fault, like his shitty attitude wasn’t a factor. Or that his breath so often stank of booze, and his body of stale sweat.

The conversation from earlier between her and her mom bothered her like a harbinger of things to come, making it harder to focus. “I’ve made arrangements. If anything happens to me—go next door. Alex and Cindy Pace will look after you. And you get along so well with Josh and the twins.”

Her mom had talked over Anna’s every denial of anything ever happening to her. Anna was going to keep her mom safe. Learn karate or something badass at the gym to give her the upper hand. But her mom had made her promise and she had gone along with it. Anna didn’t want her mom worrying more than she already did, not that she wouldn’t stay and help her if worst came to worst. She’d never desert her mom. They had to stick together, no matter what.

Another loud series of barks drew her attention away from her favorite daydream of getting a high-paying job, of taking her mother far, far away. She’d also warned her to stay out of it, that her stepfather couldn’t help himself having to work at a job he hated, but Anna’s stomach churned with the effort. She wiped her damp palms on her patched jeans, straining to hear, the test long forgotten.

A loud crashing sound of something falling erupted downstairs. She dumped the headset and jumped off the bed, then raced down the narrow staircase in her sock feet, her pulse hammering in her ears, her head about to explode. She rounded the sharp corner that composed the L-shaped kitchen and living room, the clean but faded linoleum with most of the square-shaped pattern worn down to gray splotches, slippery beneath her feet. Her disgusting bear of a stepfather stood over her mom, his meaty fists raised like a boxer, his pugnacious face darkened by raw hatred.

About the Author: January Bain is an award-winning author who firmly believes that stories unite us, that good stories help us to discover the commonality of the human experience by supporting values, empathy and understanding. She writes with her heart, mind, and soul, hoping that her novels will touch your life, giving you moments of freedom as you fly with her to other worlds.

Bain has had the pleasure of select novels being turned into games, and her work is also available in different languages.

January and her husband live in rural Canada on peaceful acreage where a variety of wildlife comes to visit regularly and expect to be fed and paid attention to.

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Character Creation by Michael Ross – Guest Blog and Giveaway

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

Character Creation

This book has been hanging around in my head for 30 years, after the time I delivered a car from the UK for a friend to Portugal. I loved the journey, just me, foreign travel, time to stop and start whenever and wherever I pleased. I stayed the night in a random hotel in Northern Spain and when I paid the bill in the morning the receptionist was moody and wouldn’t meet me in the eyes, I got back into the car, and as I drove south whichever radio station, I tried they were playing the most miserable music, even down into Portugal. After lunch that day I got a phone call from a friend telling me that Princess Di had died in a car crash that night. My oblivion to this world-shattering event has stuck with me, I started twisting the story to have my main character delivering the car back to the UK, not realising just how important this journey would be in the story of his lifetime.

So, I sat with my main character in a café In Rennes, chilling whilst breaking up the journey (with me it was in Biarritz.) I had no idea what sort of person he was, until his reaction to see a stranger in distress – he was empathetic, sympathetic, self-confident. With in next to no time the first three chapters were written and I was fully into his character and a clear idea how he would react in most situations. Claire was a different evolvement, I liked her from the get go, but she revealed herself to me much more slowly.

Thank you for hosting and I look forward to the stopover.

Best wishes,
Mike

For Ryan Gould it’s just another pay day, collect a car from Portugal deliver it to the UK. Nothing too complicated – until he decides on an unscheduled stopover in Northern France, in the city of Rennes, a quiet drink in the town square, where life would have turned out so differently if he not noticed the girl sitting on the bench was sobbing her heart out.

From there onwards his life twists and turns out of control until he finds himself in police custody charged with abduction and a journey to get to the truth. The girl on the bench, Claire, had misled him from the very beginning; who was she, and how had she managed to wreak so much havoc in his life?

Enjoy an Excerpt

The room stinks, the historic stench of soiled human bodies is overpowering.

There are No Smoking signs posted at either end of the room but the smeared and dirty state of windows suggests years of people defying that advice. When we first met, I was willing to give the man the benefit of doubt, but the way he looks at me now is a challenge; maybe I was right – he is a total bastard after all. In all fairness it’s been a long day for him, and an even longer one for me. Leaning back in his chair he stares into space for a full two minutes before speaking, his voice gravelled with fatigue.

“Let me ask you this Ryan. If we swapped places and you were me, sitting here in my chair, would you believe one single word of the statement you’ve made today?” He takes a breath before continuing. “You need to quiet the waves.”

“Sorry?”

“You need to pull something special out of the bag to get you off the hook here, Ryan. You’re on your own in a single boat in the middle of a raging storm and without a change of direction to pacify me you’re in real trouble my friend.”

My friend? I’m screaming inside – it is not a story – it’s the truth, but the point he’s making is fair, because even I have a job to believe the witness statement I’ve just signed. Much has happened in the few days since I left Rennes, almost too much to recollect properly and somewhat impossible to comprehend. Last Friday seems like a hundred years ago, and yet it feels like only a few hours have passed since I was sitting in the city square, relaxed, drinking coffee and reflecting on my life.

About the Author: Born and raised in Bristol, England I now live halfway up a mountain in the Welsh Valleys, with my partner Mari and our rescue dog Wenna. I have a BA in English Literature from Bristol Uni and after creative writing classes at Cardiff Uni I won prizes for short stories. I write with a smile on my face.

I have self-published (including Quiet the Waves) five short story anthologies and five novels

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Twice Hung by Vanessa C. Hawkins – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Vanessa C. Hawkins will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.


Ethel Arsenault’s been hearing noises in her brother’s house ever since she arrived from Summerside, but when he turns up dead, could the supernatural be to blame, or her sister-in-law Dolly whose been caught talking to herself when night falls?

Ethel isn’t sure, nor is she happy when she’s left alone to care for Ernest’s estate. Was her brother the victim of sweet, little Dolly Arsenault, or is some other sinister force at work? The city of Charlottetown is quick to point the blame at Dolly, but now Ethel has been hearing things in the house…

… or is it just her imagination?

Enjoy an Excerpt

The day was damp, yet hardly a day at all. Gray clouds hung low in the dismal sky with the promise of reluctant showers. A storm loomed behind the ashen canvass. It had been present ever since the winter months had concluded, and a sodden pall had swept over the coast of the island to remain indefinitely.

Ethel Arsenault longed for the summer days back home at Green’s Shore, even though it would be just as wet there. The farmers would prepare their fields, and heave at the heavy earth in hopes it would soon be pregnant with their summer harvest. Ethel liked when the potato fields stood in perfect columns like soldiers. When she was young, she often gathered the flowers in her apron, picking them before they were pruned to make laurels for the boys.

She hadn’t done that ever since her brother, Ernest, had moved to Charlottetown to invest in shipbuilding. Now, as the wagon bumped between the muddy ruts of the road, the scent of mussel mud was prevalent over the low-hanging lady slippers and spruce trees that crowded the marshlands. It crept in the nose, more sour than regular fertilizer, and made Ethel and her servant, Beulah, want for warmer weather.

“How much longer till we arrive?” Beulah asked as she rearranged the cushions beneath her bottom. Ethel smiled, sympathetic to her friend’s condition. They’d only been traveling a day and had stopped for the night in Cornwall, but even the simple journey in an extravagant stagecoach had taken its toll on their backsides.

“We’ll be crossing the Yorke River soon, Miss Murphy,” one of the lads called from the front, spitting out a mouthful of chew to plop upon the ground.

“It seems to me like we’re headed back in the direction we came, Mr. Carlow!”

Aloysius Carlow—Al—laughed and reached into his pocket to draw out another handful of chewing tobacco. The young man must have taken a liking to Beulah Murphy’s robust personality, as he never spoke back to her when she complained or prattled on idly about dirt, mud, flowers, and horses. For a servant, Ethel had to admit that Beulah was unusual, but the girl was cheerful and had a good head on her shoulders, despite her many eccentricities. Ethel loved her dearly.

“Only way to cross the river, Miss, is by Moor’s Bridge north of Cornwall. Most people take the boats these days. They tend to be faster.”

Mud had speckled the sides of the carriage, but Beulah hung her head out anyway, catching a few freckles upon the slope of her ample cheeks as she peered at the young man’s back.

“Never-you-mind about that, Mr. Carlow!”

Al laughed and tugged at the brim of his straw hat that sat low over his brow. “Just sayin’ is all, Miss Murphy. Mr. Arsenault would have had you and your lady carried by royalty if you’d have wanted.”

About the Author:A life-long lover of horror, Vanessa wrote her first story in the genre when she was only in grade five. It was titled Mutilated and it warranted her a trip to the school guidance counsellor. A lifetime later, she continues to write about anything that suits her fancy. She was afforded second place in the David Adams Richards Prize this year, and honourable mentions in the WFNB writing competition for her novel A Child to Cry Over. With over a dozen publications under her belt, Vanessa was celebrated as a bestselling author with Books We Love Publishing for the sale of over a thousand copies of The Curious Case of Simon Todd! She lives with her husband Brendon and daughter Bernie in New Brunswick.

Vanessa is the author of the following BWL Publishing Inc. releases:

The Curious Case of Simon Todd
Bunker Blitz
Ballroom Riot by Vanessa C. Hawkins & Tara Woodworth

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Why Do I Write and for Whom Do I Write? by Robert Creekmore – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Robert Creekmore will award a randomly drawn winner a $10 Amazon/BN gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Why Do I Write and for Whom Do I Write?

If you write adult fiction, and your work angers no one, you’re doing something wrong.

I feel as though the purpose of my writing career is to piss off all the right people and to comfort those they seek to crush.

Who are the right people? Those who have used their station in life to make existence miserable for others because of immutable differences. In fact, I believe this theme to be the characteristic that sets good literature apart from paragraphs of window-dressing bound between two covers.

In my work, I deal with the realities of the rural Evangelical South which is the environment where I grew up. I was even named after Confederate General, Robert E. Lee. Though, I am of no relation. I attended a church and school where I was taught to hate anyone who wasn’t white, straight, and a specific type of Christian.

Today, I write fiction featuring LGBTQ+ characters fighting against a cult with similar viewpoints, albeit, far more extreme as the novel series goes on. However, the beginning of the first novel provides a rather accurate depiction of what the world was like for queer youth in the early nineteen-nineties.

The Prophets series is also an allegory that begins purposefully during the rise of modern Christian nationalism, specifically, nineteen-ninety-three. That was the year of the Branch Davidian incident in Waco, Texas.

By the end of book three, Prophet’s Death, I’ve laid out a vision of how a militia movement metastasized so virulently that it bamboozled a segment of the population to a point where they were willing to base their entire lives around a man who is the antithesis of the savior they claim to worship. The truth is, they only wanted an excuse to hate openly and to control others who weren’t like them.

I make no secret that this is an allegory for the MAGA movement and that the Character Abraham Prophet is based upon his actions and the manipulation techniques he’s harnessed to control the hordes of rubes who follow him blindly. If this offends you, I truly don’t care. Cruelty and stupidity should bother you more. Stop personalizing politicians of any party because they tell you that you’re somehow special, or a ‘real American’. They’re lying. They don’t care about you. They care about power and making their friends and themselves wealthier off of your underpaid labor.

This, along with the extreme level of violence in my novels, will probably be a turn-off for a lot of readers. I’m fine with that. I’m here to appeal to the weirdos. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Death-cult leader Joseph Proffit has met his end! Along with him perishes the secret method for manufacturing indigo, the substance that imbued him with godlike abilities.

To the dismay of Naomi’s family, she succumbed to the injuries Joseph dealt her during their final battle atop the abandoned Coast Guard station, Frying Pan Tower, thirty miles off the North Carolina coast.

Both of their bodies were lost at sea when the one-hundred-foot-tall structure crumbled during Tropical Storm Gabriel.

Naomi’s beloved companions escaped aboard her dive boat, along with Joseph’s final victim, who is on the verge of death.

In the aftermath, Naomi’s family has no choice but to rebuild their lives in hiding, fearing reprisal from the handful of remaining Apostle loyalists.

Soon, their secret, dormant conflict will be thrust onto the world stage by a wealthy benefactor who funnels his personal hatred and unfounded grievances into throngs of ignorant followers.

Is this the end of Naomi’s family? Without her, how will they survive?

Enjoy an Excerpt

The winds of Tropical Storm Gabrielle punish the small dive boat. Its howling feels like the voice of nature herself crying out in lamentation at the death of Naomi Pace.

As Nate pilots the craft over each wave, there’s a moment when he can hear the engines rev hard as the props come out of the water momentarily just before crashing down again. This cycle repeats every few seconds, seemingly without end.

Below deck, Rebecca and Herschel steady an unconscious Malcolm by keeping him squeezed between their bodies. It’s difficult. There’s nothing to hold onto since the Apostles stripped the cabin bare. The two hours it takes to get back to their dock are hell, both physically and introspectively.

Naomi was Nate’s best friend. To him, she was invincible.

How could she be dead? Nate thinks to himself as he involuntarily projects images of their time together across the water.

He has successfully outrun the incoming storm wall, but a new one awaits his fractured mind when all of the chaos subsides.

Neither Herschel nor Rebecca has the same composure. They wail with grief. Reaching across Malcolm’s limp body, they hold one another’s hands for comfort as much as they do to keep their injured companion safe from the onslaught of the turbulent water.

Nate threads the needle at the Masonboro Inlet, just like Naomi taught him. The waves rocking the swollen bay attempt to push them easterly into the mainland. Even though it means safety, the sight of the dock fills Nate with dread. Its arrival in the foreground always meant the end of a day fishing with Naomi, until now.

About the Author:
Robert Creekmore is from a rural farming community in Eastern North Carolina.

He attended North Carolina State where he studied psychology. While at university, he was active at the student radio station. There, he fell in love with punk rock and its ethos.

Robert acquired several teaching licenses in special education. He was an autism specialist in Raleigh for eight years. He then taught for four years in a small mountain community in western North Carolina.

During his time in the mountains, he lived with his wife Juliana in a remote primitive cabin built in 1875. While there, he grew most of his own food, raised chickens, worked on a cattle farm, as well as participated in subsistence hunting and fishing.

Eventually, the couple moved back to the small farming community where Robert was raised.

Annoyed with the stereotype of the southeastern United States as a monolith of ignorance and hatred, he wanted to bring forth characters from the region who are queer and autistic. They now hold up a disinfecting light to the hatred of the region’s past and to those who still yearn for a return to ways and ideas that should have long ago perished.

Robert’s first traditionally published novel, Prophet’s Debt, was a Manly Wade Wellman Literary Award Finalist.

His second, Prophet’s Lamentation, was a Lambda Literary recommendation for July 2023.

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Dungeon of Horrors by Hawk MacKinney – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. A randomly drawn winner will receive a $20 Amazon/BN GC. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

The bank’s newest Trust Officer Terri Stanley prepares the requested department’s internal audit. Finding puzzling inconsistencies and a jumble of misappropriations and unexplained offshore accounts, she follows protocol and immediately punches in the listed number for the Executor-Trustee, Craige Ingram.

Wealthy land owner/parttime PI Craige Ingram reaches the file back to homicide Lt. Grayson MacGerald after finishing a quick read-through of the preliminary forensic report from Coroner Fred Dinkins on the unexpected death of bank President Royce Sedgewicke. Dinkins’ meticulous autopsy findings verify that a massive apparent heart attack was not from natural causes, confirming what these longtime SEAL buddies suspected.

When Ingram gets a call from Terri Stanley, the bank’s attractive, newly-hired Trust Officer, wanting to discuss in confidence possible account irregularities discovered during her audit, he never imagines the twisted world of money and greed that would involve a psychopath’s trail of bloody body parts strewn along Ingram’s river property, or that Terri and her son would disappear.

Confronted by a race against time, Ingram fears that Terri might become one more on the list of dead who crossed a twisted mind bent on thrill-kills and retribution.

Read an Excerpt

Death is seldom dignified, even less so if it’s felony murder. There was no such thing, exSEAL-turned private investigator Craige Ingram believed, but he sometimes forgot how personal death could get. This time, however, it blind-sided a lot of people—including him.

For the annual charity event of the Silver Bluff Museum of Southron Art, the master of ceremonies grandious CEO Llewyn Royce Sedgewicke and PI Craige Howelle Graeme Roynane Ingram seldom moved in the same black tie social circle. Chances were slim to none that Royce Sedgewicke would’ve ever been invited to the sprawling riverfront domains that had once been Grannie Ingram’s dogtrot Moccasin Hollow that she left debt-free to her gran’son Craige.

Unlike his collection of mounted big game trophies along the walls of his profligate mancave, portly Royce Sedgewicke’s food-bespattered tuxedoed carcass stretched out like public roadkill amid the crash and smash of food, china, crystal and splayed floral pieces, and very dead. Last-breath gurgles clung around his gagging tongue as smart phones madly clicked, flooding social media before the emergency ambulance arrived. First edition headlines the next morning made big local news and an avid up-tick in morning papers. Purloined forensic photos of his corpse showing Sedgewicke’s swollen tongue and his bare overstuffed derrière grabbed a growing audience for more about his secretive lifestyle, squandering what little decorum he never had. That mess was bad enough. His passing sent more than a few local bigwigs scrambling to cover their backsides—and their offshore accounts.

Complications and felony murder cinched more-snug when Graysen MacGerald, head of Buckingham Parish Metro Law Enforcement, Investigative Support Team, paid an off-the-record visit to his grown-up-together SEAL Commanding Officer Craige `Peadinger’ Ingram. The death certificate said heart attack. It wasn’t.

About the Author


Internationally acclaimed author and public speaker, Hawk MacKinney began writing mysteries for his school newspapers. Following graduation, he served in the US Navy for over 20 years. While serving as a Navy Commander, he also had a career as a full-time faculty member at several major state medical facilities. He earned two postgraduate degrees with studies in languages and history and has taught postgraduate courses in both the United States and Jerusalem, Israel.

In addition to professional articles and texts on fetal and adult anatomy, Hawk has authored several novels that have received national and international recognition. Moccasin Trace, a historical novel, was nominated for the prestigious Michael Shaara Award for Excellence in Civil War Fiction and the Writers Notes Book Award.

Known for his terrifying suspense and unique “Southron” dialog, Hawk has published five novels in the Moccasin Hollow Mysteries: Hidden Chamber of Death, Westobou Gold, Curse of the Ancients, Dead Gold, and Blood of the Dragonfly.

In a change of direction, Hawk has also published three books in The Cairns of Sainctuarie science fiction series: The Bleikovat Event, Volume I; The Missing Planets, Volume II; and The Inanna Phantom, Volume III.

His latest work is a series called the Moccasin Trace Mysteries. Dungeon of Horrors is the first book in the series, and the second book – Blood in the Shadows – is in development.

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Private License by Kevin R. Doyle – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Kevin R. Doyle will award a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

All Lorie Jones wants is a little help with her divorce. Some extra information, a bit of ammunition to take into court against her no-good husband. And when she hires the biggest and best investigation firm Kansas City has to offer, that’s exactly what she gets. But after their operative wraps up Lori’s case, he decides he doesn’t want to move on, and Lori soon realizes that she’s got an even bigger problem than she had before, one that threatens her privacy, and maybe even her life.

It’s up to Sam Quinton, one-man detective agency, to take on the largest firm in the business, and as Sam digs into the background of Lori’s harasser, he soon finds something bigger, and much more dangerous, than one overzealous guy who just can’t let go.

 

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Lorie hadn’t reported the latest invasion of her home. Maybe she was tired of running to the police and getting nothing accomplished, but when I considered the last intrusion and threatening note had happened before Karyn Roberts had suggested coming to me, my stomach fluttered a bit.

“Not exactly the kind of stuff you go to local cops for,” I said. “No offense.”

Sloan grunted. “None taken, mainly because you’re right. And actually, she didn’t initially bother us with the first two incidents.”

I nodded. “It was the third went over the top for her.”

“Yeah.” Sloan closed the file. “Which kind of fits because messing around with someone’s home is cop business. The rest of it lies with the post office and the banking people.”

“So what did you do?”

“About what?” Sloan looked up at me.

I sighed and managed to keep myself from shaking my head. And here we’d been getting along so well. “Did you look into her allegations?”

“These would be the allegations that a respected employee of a respected firm in the city was screwing around with her mind and emotions.”

“No,” I said, dropping my voice an octave or so. “Those would be the allegations a licensed private investigator, an ex-cop at that, was harassing and intimidating his own client.”

“You implying somehow we slow walked this because the guy she mentioned used to be a cop?”

About the Author:

A retired high-school teacher and former college instructor, Kevin R. Doyle is the author of four novels in the Sam Quinton mystery series, all published by Camel Press. He’s also written four crime thrillers, including And the Devil Walks Away and The Anchor, and one horror novel, The Litter, along with numerous short horror stories published in small magazines over the years. The first Quinton book, Squatter’s Rights, was nominated for the 2021 Shamus award for Best First PI Novel, and the fifth in the series, Private License, will be out in August of 2024.

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Murder at the College by P.H. Turner – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. P.H. Turner 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.

A detective has a smooth-talking heartbreaker for a client, but there’s a problem.

Quinn has scorch marks from her last relationship and plenty of chemistry with Ben, but he could have killed his twin brother. He demands to work the case with her, claiming it’s his life on the line.

A partner is the last thing Quinn wants. What she wants is to prove him innocent. But she’s finding plenty of evidence he isn’t.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Suddenly, thunder cracked so loudly that she felt the wall tremble beneath her hand. As the rumbling faded, she heard the soft scuff of a shoe and felt that awful sensation of being watched.

Even the building seemed to be holding its breath.

There, a scrape. Then, a rustle. Somewhere in the dark, someone was moving. Fear skittered down her spine. Inside the heavy drapes, she couldn’t discern whether it came from behind her or below her in the trap room.

Suddenly, the air was heavy with a malevolent presence.

Now, a rush of air from behind her. Then a hard shove, and Quinn tumbled down the stairs, whacking her head on the first curve, picking up speed as she rolled pell-mell, spiraling toward the bottom. Her left shoulder crashed into the unforgiving steel when she rounded the second turn. Sharp pain took her breath away, but she grabbed a rail, righted herself on the bottom step, and waited until her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light in the trap room.

Creak, shuffle.

Someone was hurrying across the wood-floored stage above her head. She stood and scanned the ceiling, tracking the footsteps moving above her.

With a few more steps, the person would be over the trap door in the center of the stage.

A shuffled step above her, then another. Quinn held her breath, waiting in place under the trap door.

Now! She yanked on the steel drawbar, dropping the trap door with a bang.

A screaming figure landed in a heap on a stack of old blankets at Quinn’s feet.

About the Author: P.H. Turner (Pat) writes contemporary mysteries spiked with long-held grudges, secrets, and murder. With roots in a Texas farm homesteaded in the 1850s, she calls Austin home. When she’s not writing, she’s cooking for family, or taking care of a pair of hairy mutts, or in her garden coaxing roses to bloom in the Texas heat.

Pat is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and Romance Writers of America.

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Conflict of Interest by Dean L. Hovey – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Dean L. Hovey will award a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

When the body of a missing cheerleader is found in a ditch, the local police turn the investigation over to the Pine County sheriff’s department, fearing that the girl’s relationship with the son of a local politician could compromise their objectivity.

Upon arriving at the scene, Sergeant CJ Jensen quickly finds herself embroiled in the politics of the girl’s murder and kidnapping. Calling in Pam Ryan to assist with the investigation, the two veteran officers dig into the girl’s obvious relationship with the politician’s son. While the boyfriend’s shaky alibi seems paper thin, their interviews with the victim’s friends have them questioning other aspects of her life.

A missing laptop computer piques their interest, making them think the murderer’s motive may be buried in her on-line activities.

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Deputy Teddy Lawrence, recently appointed Field Training Officer and senior Kanabec County night shift deputy was on patrol with the county’s newest hire. Teddy, a homebred Mora boy, was now in charge of showing the ropes to the sheriff department’s rookie, Kayla Peterson. She was fresh out of Alexandria Technical College’s nine week “skills” training course, and she was eager to be patrolling northwest of Ogilvie.

Kayla stretched and asked, “Why do we even check this dead-end road to Ann Lake Wildlife Management area? No one drives out here this time of year. There’s not even access to the lake from this side.”

“I’ve caught high school kids drinking, smoking dope, and necking out here. It’s also the perfect place to ditch a stolen car or to dump an unwanted appliance or garbage,” Teddy replied. Noticing a rolled-up carpet lying in the ditch, Teddy pulled the unit over.

Kayla looked around, trying to discern the reason they’d parked. “Why did you stop? All that’s here is some old carpet the road cleanup people will bag up when they come through. It’s not a police issue.”

Teddy got out of the car and led Kayla to the ditch. “Life out here is boring, Kay. You might as well check this out. Maybe the owners rolled a piece of mail inside with their address.”

“Yeah, right. Maybe they left a note admitting they were littering.” The rookie hesitated at the edge of the ditch, looking at the dirty water trickling down the gully. When she realized Teddy wasn’t following her, she asked, “You’re not coming with me?”

About the Author:Dean Hovey is a Minnesota-based author with three mystery series. He lives with his wife south of Duluth.

Dean’s award-winning* Pine County series follows sheriff’s deputies Floyd Swenson and Pam Ryan through this police procedural series.

Dean’s Whistling Pines books are humorous cozy mysteries centered on the residents of the Whistling Pines senior residence. The protagonist is Peter Rogers, the Whistling Pines recreation director.

In Dean’s latest series his protagonist, a retired Minnesota policeman, is drafted into service as a National Park Service Investigator after a murder at a National Monument.

* “Family Trees: A Pine County Mystery” won the 2018 NEMBA award for best fiction.

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No Good Deed by January Bain – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. January Bain will award a randomly drawn winner $25 PayPal. click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A gripping tale where good deeds intertwine with hidden crimes and a quest for truth…

Katie Kelly finally has the career and house of her dreams, but it’s a life built on a shaky foundation. Everything she holds dear could be stripped away in a split-second if the truth were to become known and her secrets exposed. Her best friend, Sadie, is also involved in hiding the past. The pair have managed to move on since that day of reckoning that occurred when they were just teenagers, by helping others to escape bad situations.

When a young woman runs to Katie and begs for her help, Katie is compelled to come to her aid and hides her in a safe room, locked away from her abusive boyfriend.

But then the past rises up and threatens to derail her best efforts to help the young girl, exposing her and her best friend to the vulgarities of fate as the girl is discovered to have an unexpected agenda, harboring secrets of her own. Katie is left with few choices. With her entire life crashing down around her ears, she must act to save not only herself, but her dear friend as well. Can Katie stop the past from destroying all hopes for a future?

Discover the chilling consequences of one woman’s altruism in the face of hidden crimes. Join Katie Kelly as she navigates the shadows of her past, compelled to make a choice that could change lives forever. Grab your copy now.

Enjoy an Excerpt

I’m doing it all over again. A shocking thing that should never be done once in a lifetime, let alone twice. I’m making a body vanish in the dark. And I’m praying like mad my actions will never see the light of day.

As I dig the hole, struggling with the spade to cut into the cement-like soil we call prairie gumbo, I keep asking myself why did it happen again? Why? I’d tried so hard to live my life aboveboard since that terrible time nine years ago.

The droning chorus of insects hidden in the trees provide no answer to my mental query. My mind drifts back into the past, reliving a nightmare that never goes away.

It was just before I graduated from high school, finally free to leave my hometown behind, when everything had come tumbling down around me like the famed walls of Jericho. Now I’m all too aware of how guilt eats at you, leeches all the color out of your day. Your life. I’ve tried to be a good friend, a good wife, helped my family whenever I could, and yet here I am, in a worse situation than the first time it happened.

My thoughts are scattered now, like the disturbed soil laying all around the freshly dug grave. The body is wrapped up, laying still nearby, a testament to my doing what I had to do to survive. My body’s tired, dead tired, breaking down, bleeding from the gunshot wound. But I have to persevere, protect those I love until my last dying breath. I swipe at the sweat beads breaking out on my forehead, blinking against the sting of salt dripping in my eyes.

Who should I blame? A young woman thinking she can change a man for the better? The foster system throwing innocents to the wolves long before they’re ready because they aged out? Or the whole of society for allowing abuse behind closed doors and not appearing to give a damn?

No, I blame me.

My spade hits another rock left over from the last ice age, jarring my entire body. I can only hope my wound doesn’t open up again. I have to ignore the burning pain in my side which is growing more insistent with each movement, each memory, echoing the one lodged in my heart.

False dawn is about to arrive in the east and I know I must hurry this along. But my mind stays focused on memories of another night, so eerily similar to this one it defied the odds. I can still smell the stench of bodily fluids, see the dark waters of the fast-flowing Red River, and hear the sounds of the body splashing into the cold depths before disappearing forever below the oily surface.

What’s the most important thing to have in life? I’ve asked myself the question many times since that fateful day that forever changed my world. When I was with my husband, it was security, to be kept hidden safe and sound, removed from the world. And look how that turned out. It was a fantasy, an unrealistic life that collapsed around us all too soon, with my secrets pushing him away and into the arms of another woman. Or at least that’s how he tells it.

When I’m with my best friend, it’s to support each other, to have a place to weather the inevitable storms of life, have a mutual understanding. Respect.

And when I’m alone, without anyone to focus on, my greatest need is for courage. The courage to forgive myself.

About the Author: January Bain is an award-winning author who firmly believes that stories unite us, that good stories help us to discover the commonality of the human experience by supporting values, empathy and understanding. She writes with her heart, mind, and soul, hoping that her novels will touch your life, giving you moments of freedom as you fly with her to other worlds.
Bain has had the pleasure of select novels being turned into games, and her work is also available in different languages.
January and her husband live in rural Canada on peaceful acreage where a variety of wildlife comes to visit regularly and expect to be fed and paid attention to.

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One Take Jake: Last Call by Jay Hall – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jay Hall will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Avenging the death of his sister, Lance, a once successful musician turned vigilante killer, has never denied his guilt…but knows now he could’ve handled things differently.

With dwindling hope after two years in the joint – and three life sentences ahead of him – Lance seizes his one opportunity for a life out of chains. With the help of loyal friends – straight-laced Reg and ex-druggie Jenny – Lance busts out of prison. He then begins his journey with Jenny to New York, where her street-wise Uncle Dusty will provide a safe hiding place, fake IDs, and a plan to get across the Mexican border.

However, it isn’t long before Jenny’s bad habits resurface, bringing heat on them both. They lose Dusty as an ally after he’s tortured by gangsters over money Jenny had supposedly stolen. In a strange country with Feds and gangsters on his tail, Lance is forced to lead the rapidly deteriorating journey south.

Just above the Mexican border, the two are cornered at a motel, their chances of survival slim. Still, Lance has hope. That is, until he learns the awful truth – a truth that leaves him alone in his final, desperate fight for freedom.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Waking up in my six-by-eight cell this morning, I wasn’t sure if I’d have the balls to go through with it.

But with everything to gain and nothing to lose, I’d be a fool to pass up the one chance I have at freedom.

Strategy, patience, and timing are everything. There are always eyes watching, especially when you’re a convicted murderer.

* * *

The bell chimes for chow-time, but I stay in my bunk. It’s all part of the plan. A couple of bulls stroll past my door and casually glance at me, then continue on down the cell block.

I close my eyes and drift into the safe rooms of my mind. I’ve had this interesting riff playing on a loop in my head for weeks. I grin and tap my fingers on my chest.

The only rhythm in this soul-sucking institution is the hum of electricity that seeps from the industrial lighting overhead.

A sudden pain stabs my eyelids. In the arid chill of my cell, the headaches coupled with nosebleeds are a welcoming reminder that I can still feel.

I turn to the brick wall and use my imagination to draw another line, marking another day spent in this hell hole. I’ve managed to survive two years and a month toward my life sentence. Keeping track of time is like throwing stones into a bottomless pit and waiting to hear them hit bottom – they never do. Still, I refuse to accept that I’ll live out my days in this institution, watching my body rot and my soul be slowly absorbed into the cold cement walls to join the poor bastards who’ve succumbed before me.

I’ve only got one hat-trick. A one-off scheme that others have tried and failed at repeatedly. But I’m nothing like my fellow inmates. Granted, I butchered three people and left a hell of a mess – too sloppy. I was careless and made mistakes. But for the most part I’ve navigated life with logic and forethought; the same approach I’ll be using to execute my plan.

About the Author: Jay Lang grew up on the ocean, splitting her time between Read Island and Vancouver Island before moving to Vancouver to work as a TV, film and commercial actress. Eventually she left the industry for a quieter life. She fell in love with creative writing and spends her days hiking and drawing inspiration for her writing from nature.

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