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The Promise of Us by Jamie Beck – Q&A and Giveaway

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Jamie Beck who is celebrating yesterday’s release of The Promise of Us, the second book in her Sanctuary Sound series. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card + a copy of the book.

Can you give readers a quick snapshot of your newest novel The Promise of Us.

At its heart, this book is based on some favorite romance tropes (best friend’s older brother, unrequited crush, second chance-ish) although the circumstances are unusual. Basically, Logan returns to town to help his sister recover and, in his desire to help his sister mend fences with Claire, he hires Claire to redecorate his apartment. What starts out as a somewhat manipulative—though well-intentioned—plan flips on him. He remembers the version of Claire from before the gunshot wound and wants her to stop living in fear, so he sets about slowly challenging her limits to help her lead a fuller life. In the process, he falls for her, although his job and wanderlust (and Claire’s inability to forgive Peyton) conspire to make her push him away. Ultimately, they have to figure out how to compromise if they want things to work out.

What makes Claire and Logan’s story special to you?

Each book I write is special in its own way. I think what stays with me about this one is a sense of tenderness that developed in Logan that didn’t really exist before he spent more time with Claire. He was a fairly selfish guy (meaning he put his needs and career aspirations ahead of everything) for most of his life. His sister’s life-threatening illness was the first catalyst for change, but his relationship with Claire develops a new facet of his personality. I liked him so much by the end of the story. And I had fun writing Claire, despite her being a very nervous, conservative character at the outset.

Your heroine Claire has suffered tremendously (both physically and emotionally) yet she perseveres and has made a great life for herself. What gives her strength?

In my mind, Claire’s greatest strengths are her ability to be content with the little things and her gratitude for her family and friends. For the most part, she rarely laments her quiet life. When she had to give up her first love (tennis), she directed her energy into something else she enjoyed and made that a career. She feels that she is good at her job and she enjoys it, so that also gives her a sense of pride and accomplishment. I think her job (making old or ugly things pretty) is a bit of a metaphor for how she dealt with her injury.

Claire has had love and lost it. How has her past experience changed her?

I think losing her boyfriend to a best friend rocked her to the core. Those two betrayals shook a fundamental sense of trust in all relationships. And in love. She recovered much better from her physical injury that the emotional ones, that is for sure. In any case, this cynicism about love and friendship definitely makes it hard for her to believe anything Logan has to say, or to believe that he could truly love her.

What is her reaction to first seeing her childhood crush Logan?

She’s caught unaware, so she reacts badly, especially because she suspects he is trying to manipulate her. Hostile might be how some would describe her mental state, although Claire tempers her feelings most of the time, so it is more of a quiet rage with a hint of desperation to flee!

It seems like Claire and Logan are complete opposites. She is cautious about new experiences, while he jet sets around the world. Was it difficult to write about two very different characters?

No. They are opposites, but in a complementary manner. In other words, he is able to use his strengths (courage) to help her tap into her own, and she is able to use her strength (contentedness) to give him a sort of stability and affection sorely lacking in his life.

What common ground do your heroine and hero have?

The have the common ground of growing up in the same community, with all the values and ideals that help form us as children. They also have mutual friends and some shared history, which binds them. In terms of their interests, they are both creatives—him with photographs, her with fabrics and such—so they understand that way of seeing the world.

A hallmark of your writing is the maturity that your characters find throughout their journey of falling in love. What are some lessons that Claire and Logan must learn for them to get their happily-ever-after?

The hallmark of any well-written romance (of which there are plenty) is that its characters will have a strong arc (they will grow and become better, stronger individuals). In this story, Claire needs to learn to take risks again, and to trust that, come what may in life or love, she will survive and be okay. Logan needs to learn to compromise, and to learn that the relationships he makes in the here and now are more likely to bring true happiness than achieving any aspirational goal.

Claire McKenna knows about loss. The bullet wound that ended her promising professional tennis career drove her to make a quiet life for herself working with fabric samples, chatting with her book group, and spending time with her parents in her sleepy coastal Connecticut hometown. Then there was the boyfriend who dumped her to pursue her adventurous childhood friend. Now, Claire’s business has hit a financial snag, but she’s up to the challenge. After all, she can survive anything. At least she thinks so . . . until her teen crush, Logan, returns to town with his sister, Claire’s traitorous friend.

Photographer Logan Prescott is more playboy than homebody. But his sister’s illness teaches him that there’s more to life than chasing the next thrill. Bent on helping her win Claire’s forgiveness, he turns his charm on Claire and offers her big bucks to renovate his multimillion-dollar New York City condo.

After years of playing it safe, Claire must now take some risks. The payoff could be huge, but if it all falls apart, can her heart recover from another loss?

Enjoy an Excerpt

“What are you thinking?” Claire dropped her hands to the table.

Steffi shook her head, waving one hand. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie. Is there another problem I’m not aware of?”

“No.” Steffi inhaled, held her breath, then exhaled slowly.

“I know of one project that would make a sweet profit and let you really stretch your talent. ‘Sky’s the limit’ kind of budget.”

Excitement lifted Claire’s spirit, straightening her spine. Anything that accelerated plans to open a retail outlet merited her attention. “Sounds amazing. What’s the catch?”

Steffi hesitated.

“Never mind. You won’t take it, so let’s move on.” Steffi spooned whipped cream into her mouth. “Oh! Molly says that Mrs. Brewster is thinking of remodeling her master bath.”

Mrs. Brewster’s late husband had left her comfortably well off, but you’d never know it. She clipped every coupon available to humanity—Claire had been behind her at the grocery store more than once. She put only two dollars in the collection basket at church each week, despite having enough money to leave more. And she gave out bite-size candy at Halloween. Bite-size!

“We can’t rely on Ryan’s mom as our major source of leads, and Mrs. Brewster spending big bucks on a remodel sounds improbable..” She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Don’t make me beg. If you have a solution, I won’t dismiss it out of hand, I promise. I’m not an idiot. We need income. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep the doors open.”

Steffi went still, her chin just above the mug held midair. “Whatever it takes?”

Claire’s hair stood on end, but she motioned “Let’s have it” with both hands.

Steffi hesitated. “How would you like to redecorate a high-end condo in Chelsea?”

“In the city?” Her entire body prickled painfully at the thought of putting herself in the midst of that chaos and danger. She’d already been one madman’s random victim. Manhattan teemed with crazy people, not the least of whom were the ones who drove their cars like heat-seeking missiles. “Who’d hire us instead of any of the premier designers there?”

Steffi met Claire’s gaze. “Logan.”

Claire’s tongue seemed to swell and turn sticky. Work with Logan … Her blood thickened like warm syrup. Tingles and terror all at once—a sensation she both loved and loathed. Her own brand of crazy. Maybe she did belong in New York, after all. “No.”

“You just said you’d do whatever it takes.”

“Not that. Never that.” Claire didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that her fair, lightly freckled cheeks now looked like someone had smeared them with ripe strawberries.

“As I suspected.” Steffi shrugged nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just pulled the pin from a grenade and dropped it on the table. “So that leaves us a little tight until something else comes up. In terms of our social media presence, I just read an article …”

Claire heard Steffi talking, but the words ran together like white noise because Claire’s brain was still stuck on the idea of working with—no—for Logan Prescott. His obvious ploy made her want to laugh. Did he really think he could buy her forgiveness for his sister? Well, Claire would never, ever forgive Peyton. Not even if he paid her a million dollars to renovate his condo.

“Claire? Did you hear anything I said?” Steffi turned her hands out in question.

“Sorry.” She rubbed the scowl from her forehead. “I’ll find another way to turn up new leads. Working with Logan is a hard no.”

“Too bad. You’d have so much fun decorating his place. I’m sure he’d let you do whatever you wanted. Anything would be better than how it looks now. Guess he never cared before, since he was rarely around to enjoy it.”

Only a Prescott would own a million-dollar property that sat vacant as often as it was occupied.

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Did I call you one?” Steffi had the gall to look stunned.

“This has Peyton’s paw prints all over it. I’d bet my last penny that she put him up to it. I don’t know what I hate more, that she did it, that you took the bait, or that she knows we’re desperate for money.”

“It’s not a conspiracy. I mentioned that I felt bad about putting you in this situation because of this home. Logan tossed out the idea on the spot.”

“I can’t deal with the strings that would come with his offer.” Except now Claire couldn’t focus on anything else because thinking about Logan took up all the space in her head. If Peyton hadn’t stolen Todd, she might’ve pounced on a chance to work closely with Logan. Of course, then she wouldn’t have been free to act on her desire. Not that she had ever acted on it before Todd, either. The hawkish way Logan could stare at her turned her to jelly around him and—oh, just no. “I thought you finally understood that.”

“I do. That’s why I wasn’t going to say anything.” Steffi crossed her arms. “You forced me to tell you.”

True enough. Logan’s image flickered through Claire’s mind again, poking at the tender spot of her pointless longing, like always.

She shook her head, dislodging all thoughts of Logan. “I’ll catch up with Mrs. Brewster and pitch a proposal for her bathroom. But we also have to scrape together funds to advertise and update the website, and you need to scare up reno work pronto. Promise me we’ll earmark new revenue toward retail space—”

A knock at the door interrupted her monologue.

Steffi rose from the table and disappeared around the corner.

From the other room, Claire heard Steffi’s surprised voice say, “Oh, we didn’t expect you so early.”

“Hope that’s not a problem,” replied Logan, in his unmistakable baritone.

About the Author: National bestselling author Jamie Beck’s realistic and heartwarming stories have sold more than one million copies. She’s a Booksellers’ Best Award and a National Readers’ Choice Award finalist; and critics at Kirkus, Publishers Weekly, and Booklist have respectively called her work “smart,” “uplifting,” and “entertaining.” In addition to writing, she enjoys dancing around the kitchen while cooking and hitting the slopes in Vermont and Utah. Above all, she is a grateful wife and mother to a very patient, supportive family.

For fun tips, exclusive content, and a chance to win the monthly birthday reader box, please sign up for her newsletter.

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Trailblazer by Michelle Diener – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Michelle Diener will be awarding a $25 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.

He’s on a mission . . .

She’s running for her life . . .

And if they get off-planet alive, she’ll have to trust he won’t reveal her darkest secret.

Tally Riva is not what she seems, and even she’s not happy about it. Infected, invaded, she’s not quite sure how to describe it, but on a disastrous mission to a ghost ship, something burrowed its way into her body. Into her mind.

When her commander decides the best cure for what he thinks is Tally’s trauma is to send her on the famous Veltos Trail, Tally goes without revealing what’s really behind her mental anguish. Anything to be seen as normal again, anything to ignore what she’s afraid is happening to her.

But Veltos isn’t the safe place it seems. The chosen military personnel lucky enough to be offered the chance to walk the Trail are supposed to be the only people on Veltos. But Ben Guthrie, a captain in Arkhoran Special Forces, knows they’re not. He and his team have been on Veltos for a month already, tracking suspicious enemy activity, and he’s gone undercover on the Trail in search of a satellite his superiors are sure has been shot down.

When Ben’s worst fears become reality, and they find themselves hunted by a cunning enemy through the thick forests of Veltos, Tally and Ben fight together to survive. And Tally has to decide if accepting the changes inside her will save them both, or be her doom.

TRAILBLAZER is part of the Verdant String series but can easily be read as a standalone novel. Other books in the series include Interference & Insurgency (Two Novellas of the Verdant String), and Breakaway and Breakeven.

Enjoy an Excerpt

It had occurred to her more than once that this ship was very much to her own proportions. That everything she’d found was built for hands like hers.

Could this be a lost Verdant String ship, from before the eight planets of the Verdant String had found each other? From those first centuries of space exploration?

Or even–her mind reeled at the implications–from another Verdant String planet, one they had yet to find?

Whatever it was, it was a major historical find.

She reached the halfway point across the walkway, and looked over the other side. It was more of the same, although there was also tanks that looked as if they’d once held liquid, now long dried up.

She shivered, her sense of isolation and insignificance seemed amplified in this massive space, and she moved a little faster as she headed for the other side of the walkway.

A door blocked her way. She stepped close to it, but it didn’t open automatically. She looked around for a button or handle, but there was nothing except a screen attached to one side.

She hesitated, then touched it, and it flickered on, an outline of a hand showing in pale gray.

A hand exactly the shape of her own.

Cautiously, she pressed her palm against it, and with a gasp that startled her, the door slid to one side.

She stepped into the room, and knew immediately it was the bridge, the center of the ship.

She lifted the light, but there was nothing in here, just chairs and machines.

There was one light, throbbing a dull red rather than glowing, and she walked up to it. She couldn’t understand the label written above it, but she accepted what she was going to do.

She pressed the button.

About the Author:

Michelle Diener writes historical fiction, fantasy and science fiction. Having worked in publishing and IT, she’s now very happy crafting new worlds and interesting characters and wondering which part of the world she can travel to next.

Michelle was born in London, grew up in South Africa and currently lives in Australia with her husband and children. When she’s not writing, or driving her kids from activity to activity, you can find her at her website, or online at Twitter and Facebook.

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If I Had Never Heard of Me, Would I Read My Book? by John C. Waite – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. John C. Waite will be awarding a $50 Gift Certificate to Nuts.com to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

If I’d never heard of me, would I read my book?

Even if I had never heard of me, I would start reading this book. Why? The cover.

It says the story is about dolphins. Dolphins have been special to me all of my life, starting when I was a kid and encountered one in the surf at Grand Isle, Louisiana.

I grew up in New Orleans, and our family occasionally drove the hundred miles through the swamps and marshes of south Louisiana to get to Grand Isle, a sizable chunk of sand stretching along the state’s southern coastline. It was home to a recreational fishing enclave, and numerous weekend camps. I always had a great time romping in the surf or fishing with my father and little brother.

But one day while at play in chest deep water a monstrous grey beast came hurtling by, almost knocking me off my feet. I yelled for my dad and he was there in a flash. Seeing the dolphin chasing mullet as few feet away, he surmised why I had summoned him. He poo-pooed my fears and told me about dolphin, noting that they were known to have helped drowning people survive.

Shortly after that, I came across a book, a piece of kid’s fiction called Children of the Sea. It’s a story about a Caribbean boy who is befriended by a dolphin that saves him from drowning. The book follows the boy and the dolphin through a number of adventures.

I had that in my mental back pocket when my best friend finagled me a job at the Gulfarium in Ft. Walton Beach Florida for the summer of my senior year in high school. He was diving in shows there. My job didn’t have the oomph that the divers’ jobs had, but it was a paying position. For my time there I lived in the Gulfarium, and after hours would often jump into the main tank and explore. I quickly became “friends” with a couple of the dolphin, feeling particularly close to them based on my previous experiences.

It wasn’t all good. One of the dolphins, a young and over-sexed male, died in an accident. He had been a particularly active little guy, and most of the female divers avoided him while in the tank because of his somewhat amorous advances. But his death was a tragedy that affected all of the diving cadre. We gave him a fitting funeral.

With those experiences in mind, drawing the dolphin who are part of The Tursiops Syndrome wasn’t difficult. Plus, there are reams of studies dealing with the species Tursiops Truncatus, the common bottlenose dolphin. And of course, there are the television programs that featured dolphin.

But, the common perceptions should be taken with a grain of salt. They are not “Flipper.”

Dolphins are quite intelligent, but that intelligence applies to their world, not ours. They should not be thought of like a buddy. They are big, strong animals with lots of teeth. Respect them for their intelligence, but don’t make them mad.

The dolphins in The Tursiops Syndrome become tools of an unscrupulous human being.

Don’t be that person.

###

How do you get a nuke into the heart of the city? Maybe a dolphin can help. From Author John Waite, the tale of a police detective who matches wits with a mad scientist and terrorists intent on destroying America. When detective Hickory Logan joins Park Ranger Kevin Whitehead investigating the mysterious death of a dolphin she finds herself sucked into a far deeper whirlpool. Can she and Kevin stop the tide of terror that threatens to kill thousands or will they be fodder for a nuclear fireball?

A newspaper review described Tursiops thus: “The writing is, well, wonderful. Waite has a gift for dialogue and story-telling, and his plot is adventurous and perfectly paced.”

Enjoy an Excerpt

Red Logan hunkered down next to the Humvee’s left front wheel. He folded his lanky frame in several places to assure that the vehicle shielded him from rifle fire emanating from the house a hundred feet away.

A furious fusillade had greeted A-Company, first battalion, 407th Special Forces when their vehicles pulled to a halt in front of what was a rather strange building for northern Afghanistan. In the early morning darkness it looked for all the world like a California ranch-style home.

But there was no BMW parked in the driveway.

The firefight lasted less than fifteen minutes. There was only an occasional round pinging off the slate-riddled soil and infrequent bursts of automatic fire keeping the soldiers from charging the structure. Red wondered why the squads weren’t using some of the heavier weapons. He knew the unit armament included shoulder-fired missiles and a Carl Gustav 84-mm recoilless rifle but so far, the big stuff had been silent.

The tip had placed Azam al-Zawahiri, Al-Qaeda’s chief organizer for nine-eleven, in the house.

Numerous such tips over the past two years had come to nothing. Most of them originated in minds overly-motivated to garner the twenty million American dollars offered for the capture of several of the world’s most wanted terrorists.

At least one Osama bin Laden look-alike had been found dead. And it took weeks before authorities identified the body. The man had been killed and left in a house to which an Afghan citizen directed U.S. forces. Not only did he not get the reward he sought, but his countrymen also jailed him for mutilating the corpse by cutting off its hands and feet.

Army intelligence, a title Red thought oxymoronic, had considered tonight’s tip more credible than most since it had come in anonymously. The tipster hadn’t mentioned the reward. So the Special Forces unit had headed out in the predawn darkness for a two-hour drive north from Kabul into the mountainous terrain.

“Red?”

The voice belonged to the figure squeezed into the wheel well behind him.

He could barely see Jessie’s sinewy shape, strangely gawky where the video camera and its now-dark lights rested on her right thigh.

“Yeah, what?” he whispered.

“Should I get some video?” Jessie asked, cocking her left hand back over her shoulder.

“Hell no. We’re reporters, not soldiers. CNN’s not paying us to get shot. Just keep your ass down. There’s nothing to shoot.”

Before he could finish his sentence, an amplified Afghan voice rang out from the vicinity of the lead Humvee, imploring the occupants of the house to surrender. The answer was a three-shot rifle volley, the rounds pinging off the hard-pack and whining away into the darkness.

“Now,” Jessie said, pushing past Red and swinging the camera onto her shoulder, leaning on the Hummer’s hood.

“No.” Red yelled, trying to pull her to the ground. But it was too late. The light on Jessie’s camera flared brilliantly then died in a crash of glass and the harsh double bark of a Kalashnikov. The rounds zinged away into the darkness, but Red heard in the report the crunch of bone.

“Jessie.” he screamed.

About the Author:

Thousands of author John C Waite’s words flew past Alpha Centauri years ago, heading for the center of the galaxy, perhaps sparking an arthropod’s grin in route. Waite, a degreed journalist and retired Merchant Mariner has numerous writing and broadcasting awards to his credit, and millions of words in print and broadcast media. Originally from New Orleans he has called Panhandle Florida his home for fifty years, but still retains a taste for things Creole and Cajun. A recreational and professional sailor, his travels have covered the Caribbean, the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, portions of south and Central America, Canada, Hawaii, Ireland, Britain, and Europe. John resides in Pensacola, Florida. He is a father to four and grandfather to four. His books are available on Amazon.

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Elizabeth in the New World by Maggie Mooha – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Maggie Mooha will be awarding $15 Boroughs Bucks to 2 randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Jane Austen’s most famous lovers, Darcy and Elizabeth, return in a tale of romance, adventure, and danger set in the heart of the Caribbean.

NO GREATER LOVE

Darcy’s sudden, passionate kiss sweeps Elizabeth into a bliss she has never known…but their love is short-lived. On a field of honor, Wickham, once again, engages in an irresponsible act, which leaves Darcy mortally wounded and Elizabeth broken. Refusing to leave Darcy’s side, the last vestiges of her reputation are shattered, and when Elizabeth sees Darcy in his coffin, she is ruined in more ways than one. Devastated and without hope, reluctantly she agrees to accompany friends to Grenada, a Caribbean island on the brink of revolution.

Things are not what they seem. Darcy hasn’t died, but Elizabeth is gone and he fears it is too late to recapture what he has lost. As he struggles to recuperate, he must put aside his pride and his heritage in order to find the only woman he will ever love. Never before has Darcy sacrificed so much for a passion he fought against so vehemently. And never before has Elizabeth’s strength of character been stronger – it is the only thing standing between her and an end that doesn’t include Darcy.

Enjoy an Excerpt:

“Papa, are you in there? I would like to speak to you before you go,” Elizabeth called through the study door.

Mr. Bennet was already at the door, opening it. Elizabeth entered and began to speak but stopped short when she saw Darcy. For a moment, she was speechless.

Mr. Bennet looked from one to the other. It was Darcy who spoke first.

He cleared his throat. “Good morning, Miss Bennet. I am sorry that we are not meeting under happier circumstances. I will take my leave, so that you may speak to your father alone.” He made his way toward her to the door.

As if awakened from a dream, she suddenly cried, “No,” before he reached the door. He stopped, a surprised look on his face. They both looked at Mr. Bennet.

“Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet offered. “I think perhaps you might want to have a word with Mr. Darcy. I will go and have my breakfast.” He tried to sound lighthearted, but Elizabeth knew he was hiding his dread from her.

As soon as they were alone, Elizabeth went to the window. She could not look in Darcy’s face. She was afraid her countenance would reveal all the tumult of emotions she was feeling.

“Mr. Darcy, why are you here?” she asked finally.

“Your father asked me to be his second in his duel with Mr. Wickham. He felt that I, being a gentleman, would possess the necessary knowledge and…” he groped for the word, “authority, to see that all proceeded fairly with adherence to the rules.”

“Rules?” she cried and turned upon him. “Rules. Mr. Darcy, what good can come of this? Can you not do something to stop it? My father—” Her voice broke and she turned away from him once more, burying her face in her handkerchief. “My father is an elderly man, a country gentleman. What does he know of dueling?” The tears welled in her eyes, and then broke free and ran down her cheeks. She wished he would rush to her and throw his arms around her and hold her to his breast. Instead, he stood apart and spoke calmly.

“I do think that some accord can be reached without resorting to violence,” he said.

About the Author:

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

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

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

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

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On the Count of Three by Carolyn Arnold – Spotlight and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a paperback copy of Remnants.

And they thought prison was hell…

When a woman’s disappearance ticks off all the same boxes as two unsolved murders, Miami homicide detective Kelly Marsh is convinced there’s about to be a third. If she’s right and the killer sticks to their previous MO, she only has three days before Jenna Kelter’s decapitated head will show up somewhere in the city. With no time to waste, Kelly reaches out to the one person she knows can help: her former mentor and family friend Jack Harper, who just happens to lead a team with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.

BAU special agent and profiler Brandon Fisher easily sees the similarities between Detective Marsh’s missing person case and the two cold cases: all three victims served time for DUI vehicular homicide and disappeared three days after being released from prison. But is that enough to assume Kelter has been abducted by a serial killer? Brandon’s not so sure and fears his boss may have let his personal connection to Marsh cloud his judgment. Surely there isn’t any other explanation for why they jumped into an investigation less than twenty-four hours after Kelter was reported missing. Then again, maybe Brandon is letting his own differences with the detective affect his perspective. He’ll need to move past it, though—and quickly.

After all, this killer has evaded capture for the past six years, and they may be looking at a lot more victims than originally suspected. This serial killer is calling the shots and pulling them into a macabre game of cat and mouse. While the team has no choice but to play, if they don’t make the right moves, one of them may not make it out of Miami alive.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“We’ll start on the count of three,” he said in a singsong voice. The Night pulsed beneath his skin with a heartbeat of its own.

“No, no, please!” the woman screamed.

It pierced his ears, but he smiled, moving into position next to her. “One…” He reached out for the chain that suspended the blade. “T—” His phone rang. His body quaked, the tremors of the Night snaking through him.

He grabbed a roll of duct tape from a nearby utility shelf and slapped a piece across her mouth. He normally didn’t have to worry about their screams out there, but he wanted to answer this call. The ringtone told him it was his girlfriend, Roxanne. She fit into his life plan—at least for now—and he didn’t want to mess things up with her.

He kept his eyes on the woman as he answered his phone. “Hey, sweetie.”

He listened as his girlfriend prattled on about their plans for the following evening—dinner, then a movie. Nothing new there. She said maybe dancing afterward, but they’d never make it to a club. She’d be ready for bed by ten, and he’d tuck her in. She was as predictable as drying paint and about as exciting. But she played along with his sexual fantasies without contention, and she’d do anything to make him happy.

“You’ll pick me up? My place at six o’clock?” she asked.

“I can do that. I’m looking forward to spending some time with you.”

“Love you,” Roxanne told him.

“Love you, too.” He hung up, smiling, and let the expression carry for his victim to see. He set up his cell phone to record again and walked toward the woman. “Let’s pick up where we left off, shall we?”

She was screaming behind the tape and bucking her head wildly. She was clearly trying to slide back, as if she could worm her way out of the guillotine.

Yes, fight. It makes it so much more fun…

“One,” he roared above her. “Two…” He wound the chain around his fingers. With a flick of his wrist, he released it. “Three.”

About the Author: CAROLYN ARNOLD is an international best-selling and award-winning author, as well as a speaker, teacher, and inspirational mentor. She has four continuing fiction series—Detective Madison Knight, Brandon Fisher FBI, McKinley Mysteries, and Matthew Connor Adventures—and has written nearly thirty books. Her genre diversity offers her readers everything from cozy to hard-boiled mysteries, and thrillers to action adventures.

Both her female detective and FBI profiler series have been praised by those in law enforcement as being accurate and entertaining, leading her to adopt the trademark: POLICE PROCEDURALS RESPECTED BY LAW ENFORCEMENT™.

Carolyn was born in a small town and enjoys spending time outdoors, but she also loves the lights of a big city. Grounded by her roots and lifted by her dreams, her overactive imagination insists that she tell her stories. Her intention is to touch the hearts of millions with her books, to entertain, inspire, and empower.

She currently lives in London, Ontario with her husband and beagle and is a member of Crime Writers of Canada and Sisters in Crime.

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Cowboy Wolf Trouble by Kait Ballenger – Spotlight and Giveaway


Long and Short Reviews welcomes Kait Ballenger who is celebrating the recent release of Cowboy Wolf Trouble. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a copy of the book.

Seven shifter clans call the Montana mountains home.
But a new evil will stop at nothing to tear their world apart.

For centuries, the shifters that roam Big Sky country have honored a pact to keep the peace. Even bad-boy rancher Wes Calhoun, former leader of a renegade pack, has given up his violent ways and sworn loyalty to the Grey Wolves. But his dark past keeps catching up with him…

Human rancher Naomi Evans cares only about saving the ranch that was her father’s legacy. Until a clash with Wes opens up a whole new world—a supernatural world on the verge of war—and Naomi, her ranch, and the sexy cowboy wolf stealing her heart are smack dab in the middle of it.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Naomi came to on a jolt of energy and fear. Dreaming. She had been dreaming. Closing her eyes again, she slowed her breathing. A gentle sway moved beneath her as she lay on her stomach, her spine curved in an upside-down U. Where the hell was she? Her head throbbed and her thoughts somehow felt fuzzy. Was she on a horse? The oily scent of coat polish permeated her nose, and from the gentle sway it certainly felt like it. But she didn’t trust her disoriented head. Hadn’t she been at home just moments ago? As she attempted to push herself up, a soft tug pulled at her wrists. She shifted until her wrists were in front of her face. Loosely tied rope wrapped around her wrists. Panic flooded her. She scrambled in an attempt to sit up. Immediately, she slipped from where she’d been perched and her back hit the cold mountain ground with a hard thud.

A nearby male voice cursed.

The moon above bathed the normally pitch-black forest in pale moonlight. A horse’s hooves leading up into thick muscled legs stood less than a foot away from her; its coat was as dark as the night sky. Equus ferus caballus. A black American mustang, a typically free-roaming species. She scrambled to sitting despite the ache in her shoulders from the fall. It took her all of two seconds to ascertain she’d been riding passed out on the back of the horse. And this horse was decidedly not free-roaming.

She didn’t think. Jumping to her feet, Naomi darted into the trees. She had to escape. Had to get back to her ranch. Her feet flew over the hard mountain terrain as she ran downhill. Ten yards in a rock caught the toe of her boot and she toppled into the dried autumn leaves. She started to scramble to her feet again.

And that’s when she saw him, looming in front of her. Her captor.

He sat on the back of the dark horse, hands clutched in the beast’s mane, those same yellow wolf eyes narrowed in her direction. Thankfully, he was clothed now.

He rode before her as a man. But his eyes told the true story.

“Werewolf,” the word fell from her lips.

“Glad we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he said.

She jumped at the deep rumble of his voice. His voice was human, but those dangerous yellow eyes…

He dismounted the horse, and her eyes widened as she took in the full sight of him. Mangy blond hair brushed beneath his chin, wild and unkempt. He stood unnaturally still, wolf eyes ablaze through the darkness. Harsh, brutal features comprised his face. Jagged cheekbones, a bladed nose, an angry slash of a mouth, and a strong jaw lined with a thin layer of coarse blond stubble clenched tight. He watched her with relentless intent. Violent battle scars marred the skin of his chest, highlighting the bloody wound at his shoulder from where her shot grazed him, and the deep slashes of the now removed wolf trap in his forearm only served to make him appear all the deadlier.

Wild, fierce, virile.

Dangerous.

In her work as a biologist, she had developed a brief, flirting fascination with large apex predators. After she’d finished her degree, she’d accepted a brief summer internship at a large cat rescue in northern Florida, where she’d worked with the rehabilitated predators up close. She’d been captivated with the languid way they moved, their ability to become so still in anticipation before they struck or lunged at lesser prey, a trait common among predators across varying species. Being so close to such strength and power had filled her with both excitement and fear. She remembered once observing a cougar crouch in anticipation of a live rabbit that had been released into its cage. The intense, deadly look in its eyes had both thrilled her and terrified her. Making her want to draw closer while also being thankful a cage had stood between them.

She had no such protection now.

It was the cold, ferocious intent in his golden wolf eyes that paralyzed her, that held her captive. Even in this form, he was lethal, standing well-over six feet, his body unforgiving muscle and sinew that moved with predatory fluidness.

Few would have called him handsome. Terrifying seemed more accurate, yet she couldn’t pull her gaze away. She didn’t want to.

He wore nothing but a pair of loose jeans covered with riding chaps. The combination hung low enough on his hips to serve as a reminder there was nothing underneath. Her eyes followed the trail of blond hair on his muscled abdomen. The material covering him seemed so precariously perched there, that it sent a wave of embarrassed heat straight to her cheeks.

Slowly, she shifted her legs underneath herself until she crouched over the tree roots. Though she naturally loved the outdoors, having grown up on a ranch, she’d never been a very fast runner. But she had to fight, had to try. She knew these mountains. She could find her way to her ranch, even in the dark. Right? He took one step toward her, and even that small movement was predatory, not fully human.

And she was his prey.

About the Author: Romance author, world traveler, English professor, and former professional bellydancer, Kait Ballenger hated reading when she was a child, because she was horrible at it. Then by chance she picked up the Harry Potter series at the age of eight, fell in love with reading, and never looked back. When she realized she could tell her own stories, the deal was sealed.

A first-generation college student, she earned her B.A in English from Stetson University, followed by an M.F.A in Writing from Spalding University. After stints working as a real vampire (aka a phlebotomist), a bingo caller, and a professional bellydancer, Kait finally decided that her eight-year-old self knew best: Kait’s meant to be a writer…though the jury is still out on being the next J.K Rowling.

When Kait’s not preoccupied with writing captivating paranormal romance, page-turning suspense or love scenes that make even seasoned romance readers blush, she can usually be found spending time with her family or with her nose buried in a good book. She loves to travel, especially abroad, and experience new places.

She lives in Florida with her husband and two young sons.

And yes, she can still bellydance with the best of them…

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Discover Five Things about Marie Sexton and Heidi Cullinan – Guest Blog

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Marie Sexton and Heidi Cullinan who are celebrating today’s release of Second Hand, the second book in the Tucker Springs series.

*****

Hi, everyone! We thought we’d share with you five things each of us are into right now.

Marie:

1. The Colorado Eagles — Hubby and I have always been football fans, but whenever he suggested hockey, I resisted. “We already put our lives on hold once a week, 16-20 weeks of the year for the Broncos,” I would say. “No way are we adding a second sport. Especially not one with over sixty games per year.” Then, several years ago, my daughter’s school choir sang the National Anthem at an Eagles game, and I was hooked. We’re now season ticket holders. In 2017, hockey saved my sanity. Between January and June, my mother had a stroke, my husband’s uncle died of cancer, my dog died, and my grandmother passed away. Had it not been for the Colorado Eagles and their amazing Kelly Cup championship run, I’m not sure I would have survived.

2. Knitting — My grandmother taught me to knit when I was nineteen. I spent a summer at her house in Louisiana knitting washcloths. But I never went back to it. Occasionally, I’d fondle yarn in craft stores, but I resisted because I knew I’d end up buying more yarn than I could possibly use. But then, sometime around April of last year, I gave in, and now, it’s my absolute favorite pastime. (And yeah, my yarn stash is already out of hand.)

3. The Marvel movies — I’m one of those fans comic book readers probably hate. See, even though my parents encouraged my voracious reading habits, comic books were absolutely NOT included. So I’ve never read a single one of the comic books. But man, I love the movies!! I watch them all the time, and I can’t wait for the next couple to come out. For the last year or two, I tried to convince my daughter (she’s 14) to watch them with me. She’s a big shipper, and I told her I could make her a Stucky fan with a single movie. She recently gave in, and now she loves them too. (And of course she’s a Stucky fan.)

4. Stella — We adopted Stella in July of 2017. When DD chose her at the shelter, I thought, “Really? This dog?” I’d fully intended to adopt a pittie mix, but there weren’t any at the shelter that week. Instead, my kid picked out this scared little terrier mix. Well, it took me all of about a week to fall head-over-heels for this silly little goof. She’s exactly what I needed.

5. Justified — Hubby and I are currently bingeing on this series AGAIN. There are no words for how much I love Boyd Crowder.

Heidi:

1. Mo Dao Zu Shi (The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation): This is an amazing Chinese novel turned manhua (manga) and donghua (anime), and now also an audio play. I think I heard it’s going to be live action too? It’s the slowest-burn BL (boy’s love, Asian for gay romance) you’re going to find. Wei WuXian, once the feared and mighty YiLing Patriarch, was stabbed in the back and killed by his shidi, but now is brought back to life by someone seeking revenge. However, waiting for Wei Ying all this time has been Lan WangJi, who Wei Ying thought hated him, but it turns out Lan Zan’s feelings are much deeper and more complicated than that. Adventure, sex, death, betrayal, resurrection, ghosts, fighting, feelings, everything! Come join the party.

2. Playing video games with my daughter: Anna is seventeen and a high school junior. We’re highly aware of how little time we have left with her in the house, so we savor it while we can. One of our favorite pastimes is to play together. When she goes to college, I’m going to get a Switch so we can play together over long distance.

3.Kyo Kara Maoh!: This amine is old, but fabulous, and though I already watched it, I’m rewatching it with Anna. Japanese high school boy gets flushed down a toilet to another world where he discovers he’s the long-awaited demon king, but instead of leading them gloriously in war, he turns them all into pacifists and unites the continent. Also gets accidentally engaged to a man who hates him at first, then follows him around jealously protecting his fiancé.

4. Learning Japanese: I’ve actually been at this a few years now, but it’s been slow going because I don’t have time or mental focus. Getting there by inches, though, and my teaching partner (a retired gentleman in Kyoto) is incredibly patient.

5. Shonen Jump Online: VIZ/Shonen Jump just opened up an online service where, for $1.99 a month, you can read back issues of ALL their titles in English and free issues of current titles translated and released the same day as the Japanese ones. (This is all manga by the way). I’m currently working my way through My Hero Academia.
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What about you? Do you share any of our interests? We’d love to hear about them!

And thanks very much for having us here today!

Paul Hannon flunked out of vet school. His fiancée left him. He can barely afford his rent, and he hates his house. About the only things he has left are a pantry full of his ex’s kitchen gadgets and a lot of emotional baggage. He could really use a win—and that’s when he meets El.

Pawnbroker El Rozal is a cynic. His own family’s dysfunction has taught him that love and relationships lead to misery. Despite that belief, he keeps making up excuses to see Paul again. Paul, who doesn’t seem to realize that he’s talented and kind and worthy. Paul, who’s not over his ex-fiancée and is probably straight anyway. Paul, who’s so blind to El’s growing attraction, even asking him out on dates doesn’t seem to tip him off.

El may not do relationships, but something has to give. If he wants to keep Paul, he’ll have to convince him he’s worthy of love—and he’ll have to admit that attachment might not be so bad after all.

About the Authors:Marie Sexton lives in Colorado. She’s a fan of just about anything that involves muscular young men piling on top of each other. In particular, she loves the Colorado Eagles and enjoys going to the games with her husband. Her imaginary friends often tag along. Marie has one teenage daughter, one adorable dog, and one very stupid cat, all of whom seem bent on destroying what remains of her sanity. She loves them anyway.

Marie also writes dark dystopian erotic fantasy under the name A.M. Sexton.

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Author of over thirty novels, Midwest-native Heidi Cullinan writes positive-outcome romances for LGBT characters struggling against insurmountable odds because she believes there’s no such thing as too much happy ever after. Heidi is a two-time RITA® finalist and her books have been recommended by Library Journal, USA Today, RT Magazine, and Publisher’s Weekly. When Heidi isn’t writing, she enjoys cooking, reading novels and manga, playing with her cats, and watching too much anime.

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Why I Write About Vampires by Catherine Russell – Guest Blog and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Why I write about Vampires…The only genre there is (at least in my mind)

Since I was a young girl, I can remember sitting upon my bed, in the darkness of night (when I should’ve been well asleep already) and dreaming of what it would be like to walk through the night with no fears, to see into the abyss of blackness and to embrace all that it would have to offer. The life of a nightwalker…yeah, that’s what I dreamt of as a little girl, not cooking in Easy-Bake ovens, riding horses, or playing house with Ken and Barbie dolls.

My dream world was that of the darkest nocturnal creatures known to man. Hence the obsession was born. One of the earliest vampire movies I can recall watching, completely enthralled was Dracula in 1979, starring Frank Langella.

In the early twentieth century, when moving pictures were still in its infancy, the Nosferatu was the first born of many dark princes of the night. Hundreds, maybe thousands of reincarnations of the creature would be born over the decades, well into the twenty-first century.

From those first black and white stuttering film slides of grotesque creatures with pale, bluish skin, bald head and elongated teeth, dripping with red food coloring, avoiding sun light at all cost to the more recent invention of sparkling day walking vampires of the Pacific Northwest, I’ve devoured all of them. The sci-fi space alien vampires to the African American versions, and let us not forget the Bon Temps of New Orleans vampires of Tru Blood HBO fame, good ol’ Vampire Bill, all these have fed my obsession, my research, my passion in creating my own world of blood thirsty vampires.

Most early movies and even series portrayed my beloved vampires as evil doers, of predators who preyed on the weak, the small, and elderly. The public view was contoured to seeing them as pest, as devils, as the darkest of evil in a human’s soul. However, somehow, I was shielded against such perception, viewing these night creatures as always human, who sometime made bad decisions, wrong choices and even deserved to find and be loved. They tried their best to be who they were in their hearts but who just happened to need one little element to remain alive, their addiction needed feeding, blood. Well, my folks have always found ways to co-exists with their mortal cousins, who have for obvious reason a much shorter life span than their unique relatives. We’re all human, regardless of our life’s length. We all make bad choices. There’s always the preverbal rotten apple in the barrel to make the rest look bad, yet we all want to get along.

In the end…we’re all human at some point in our lives. Some of us just have a really cool mutation, we’re the special ones. And we’re in every aspect of life, living right next door, leading our lives, working our jobs and paying taxes just like Joe Smith across the street.

Yes, this is the world I see, where we all get along, mortal and immortal. This is the world I’ve created from my obsession, my passion, my love of the immortal beings that were first born well over centuries ago.


Megan O’Day seems to be navigating the unpredictable relationship with Geoffrey Drake, her centuries-old vampire guardian angel, rather well. But then his past suddenly rips him from her, forcing her to face the unknown future alone in the gripping sequel to The Stage.

Still bound to Geoffrey through the power of the Link despite his unexplained absence, Megan’s mind is flooded with his haunted memories. While she relives the darkest moments of his previous life, she discovers his attachment to a woman who bears a striking resemblance to her.

As she questions Geoffrey’s love for her, she strikes up a dangerous alliance with Geoffrey’s brother, Alexander, who is also a vampire. She hopes that he will help her find a way to rescue Geoffrey: instead, he seems to be awakening new emotions and desires within her.

As the past and present collide, Megan struggles to fend off Alexander’s dark seduction. Is Geoffrey truly beyond the reach of her love forever? If not, what must be sacrificed to bring them back together again?

Enjoy an Excerpt

An image of Dawn’s mangled, bloody body filled my thoughts, and I stopped sorting through my art supplies. It had happened just before Christmas. There was poor Dawn, distraught over her break-up with Ian, wearing my jack, and waiting in Geoffrey’s car in the alley behind The Stage.

They thought Dawn was me.

They- The Inner Circle, Geoffrey’s first coven-wanted him back.

Marco, his sire, was the head honcho there, and I its prime the coven had been quite large with a very strong presence in the community. As the years passed, it prominence had faded, but Marco still clung to his power. Geoffrey said that the older Marco got the more manipulative, abusive, and obsessive he became. It didn’t make sense. Marco had exiled him, and now he wanted his prized son back, even though Geoffrey’s twin, Alexander, was part of the Inner Circle. To top it off, they wanted me dead. Why? Because I came between Marco and Geoffrey? Was it because of the Link?

Shh, my love, said Geoffrey’s sweet, cool voice though the Link.

But I couldn’t keep my thoughts from whirling. Nerdy Chase Montgomery, my neighbor, was Geoffrey’s Guardian- a scholar of immortals, more or less. He was assigned to watch over Geoffrey, but he had trouble staying close to him. So he had followed me instead, filling my apartment with micro-cameras and audio pickups. When Geoffrey finally confronted Chase, I got a look inside his apartment-and at his computer screens. Nearly every inch of my apartment was under surveillance.

How fast everything had happened! Only four months ago, I started working at Ashleigh’s bar, The Stage, which was now the hottest club in Seattle. Geoffrey and his family which made up his band, The Darkness, were the house band there, and he and his family lived what they jokingly called an “alternative lifestyle”- even for vampires. Believing our human lives were too short as it is, they found other sources for their drug of choice, blood.

By the way, did I say reality bites? Yeah it does. I guess that comes with the territory when the one you love is a vampire.

About the Author: Catherine Russell was born in Tacoma, Washington and raised in a small town just south, South Hill, Puyallup. At the time South Hill was a heavily wooded area and far off the beaten path. Growing up she had the forests as her fantasy world along with the wild animals. She lived with her parents and an older sister. There are a few similarities from her own childhood that have carried over in to her first novel, “The Stage”. As a child, she did have a small dog named Toto, whom she would quite frequently roam the woods with. Her childhood home still stands, and is still nestled in the woods even though South Hill has undergone an extreme makeover since she lived there. She enjoyed hours of day dreaming and playing in the woods, which in turn fed her fantasy world of make believe.

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Buy the book at Barking Grain Press.

Buy The Stage Chronicles Book 1 The Stage and The Stage Chronicles Book 2 Exit Stage Left at Amazon.

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What Kind of Writer am I? by P.D. Alleva – Guest Blog and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. P.D. Alleva will be awarding a $50 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?

Thank you Long and Short Reviews for this opportunity.

Great question. I’ve always had shifting dreams between genres; I enjoy horror and dark fiction, scifi, thrillers, classic literature and a great love story. I’ll read just about any book or any type of book and never remain consistent to one specific genre. My writing reflects this. Honestly I despise labels, if a book is good, I’m going to read it, despite genre or who wrote it.

Mainly, I’m the kind of writer who believes in giving something for everyone. I’ve got so many stories rattling through my head at any given moment, stories that strike a cord in my soul and want to be heard. I don’t know where they come from but they burn deep and are my children. Just like any living being life proceeds on a path of its own. Most of the time I have an idea of where I want the story to go, however, the story has its own plan and plot to follow, and I’m often finding myself following the characters on a different path. Stories are like little children, and what children want is attention, to be heard and have that moment in the light where they stand center stage.

I’m also a psychotherapist and hypnotist, a field I’ve been involved in for the past thirteen years. I’ve written protocols for mental health and addiction programs, self-help and philosophy books and numerous articles on healing, how the mind works and processes information, and have always been a keen observer of the human condition. I’m a people watcher, with an ear to actually hear what people are saying. On the flip side I love conspiracy theories (I’ve got a few of my own), and I’m a student of spirituality and quantum physics. My inner circle consists of clairvoyants, mediums, Buddhist teachers, world-renowned philosophers, astrologist, alchemists, and healers. I believe in and understand the nature of good and evil and the individual battle between them that exists inside each one of us. As a writer, my story’s central themes reflect this battle. Deon Young wrote a proverb titled The Fight of the Two Wolves Within You, about good evil, and how both exist simultaneously but the one who wins is the one we feed. But there’s also influence, evil’s plan, and paying attention to the signs, awareness of the self, and knowing we are on the right path. Sometimes we are manipulated; mostly we manipulate ourselves. I enjoy including these themes in my stories.

I am a multi-genre author. I’m writing a dark fiction dystopian scifi thriller that is book three in the Beyond the Chamber Door series and includes an alchemy meditation as the super power used against the alien race. After, book four will feature a 1940’s socialite whose male sculpture comes to life after a break up with the love of her life. Think My Fair Lady meets Frankenstein. I enjoy large and universal themes concerning the corruption of the soul, revenge, and redemption, always toying with the notion of light and dark and how quickly we can tip in either direction if we are not aware of our ‘self’. I’m also in love with love, which is the ultimate of all redemption from darkness. I love what I do and I’m passionate about creating a true body of work that strikes the emotional cord in the reader and is ever lasting. Something for everyone. Sometimes the good guys win, sometimes the bad guys win, and such is life.

The Beyond the Chamber Door series allows for these multitudes of genres, travelling across space-time and alternate dimensions where we never know what we’ll find on the other side. The series features stand alone stories in each installment, connected with the universal theme of light and dark and their raging battle that exists over multiple lives. For what truly lies beyond the chamber door is the dark and sinister heart of man, the corruption of power, ego, manipulation, and suffering. Pain and suffering drive evolution, however, if a character is not aware of this need to change, they fall further into darkness, consumed by anger, hate and rage. If misery loves company, than misery is what they reflect and what they receive.

Conclusion: I write the stories that beg to be heard, those that burn deep within my soul and quench my desires. I’m the kind of writer who seeks to create an undying bond with the reader by writing everlasting stories that take the reader on a wild journey through darkness and eventually, somewhere in the future, into the light.

Twisted Tales of Deceit is the first installment in the Beyond the Chamber Door series. Featuring three tales (The Calculated Desolation of Hope, Somnium, & Knickerbocker) chronicling an evil influence on the human psyche, tipping our hands into the engagement of what is most horrifying; our dastardly, human deeds steeped in self-destruction, desperation and the loss of dreams. Metaphorical warnings have been constructed inside these pages to reflect the everyday signs the universe provides under the guise of reflective light that return to mirror how evil tempts our hand so to not fulfill the dreams of the soul. Our doubts, our sadness, our indecisions rooted in fear, are toiled with by the presence of imps bent on hatred and in need of our nightmares to survive. Here, the human spirit is dripped like honey, tasteful to the dark corridors of human malevolence and taken advantage by the corrupt and seamlessly endless parade other worldly dimensions have on what should be our earthly utopia, creating rage in the cosmic hedonism of jealousy.

Enjoy an Excerpt

He remembered the wolf, roaming in the room. Saw the gamer and the boy he had saved with their throats cut out as the wolf fed on them. Their black eyeballs staring at William.

Remembered how the bodies were taken from the room. Remembered how he screamed but had no strength to do anything about it.

And how Katarina appeared again, another needle in hand. Remembered how he wanted it now, to help him forget. She shot him up and his world became smaller, the walls closing in to squeeze all that he knew in between the four walls of that tiny room, now no bigger than the bed he lay on.

He remembered how the world disappeared, melted away like ice.

Remembered how the darkness invited itself into his space, and how the world had gone mad.

“What the fu…” he grumbled, collapsing to the floor. His heart fluttered, and his skin flushed pale white and red. He leaned against the wall, watching the final dissipation of daylight outside the window. And the room grew dark with a sliver of moonlight that broke through the window as his memories faded and an unnerving hunger cried out from his veins. A tiny voice in his head.

“More,” it called. “Please, more.”

His body felt pain, pain like he’d never felt before. His mind felt confusion, he couldn’t put a thought together. His eyes turned wet with tears and he started to wail. He wailed until his voice gave out.

And then the footsteps. Loud, clunking footsteps against the wood floor. The massive image half hidden in the darkness, half illuminated by the moonlight, seemed to drift toward him with a mindful caution only to disappear just before reaching him. His vision wavered as the hunger grew.

In front of him, nose to nose, Mephisto shined his yellow eyes on him. And Mephisto grinned, scooping him in his arms like a baby and delivering him to the bed.

“Rest,” Mephisto said, pausing as he looked on William who saw the death of stars gleaming in Mephisto’s eyes.

“And welcome…to oblivion.”

His grin was sinister, daring and satisfied.

About the Author:P.D. Alleva is an author, psychotherapist and hypnotherapist specializing in trauma, addiction and mental health. He is the author of several books, including fiction novels, Indifference and A Billion Tiny Moments In Time…, Seriously Twisted; These Gods of Darkness (Poetry), Let Your Soul Evolve (1st and 2nd ed), and Spiritual Growth Therapy: Philosophy, Practices and Mindfulness Workbook (non-fiction). He has developed behavioral protocols for addiction and mental health and teaches mindfulness, Buddhist meditations and manifestation techniques to his patients as a means and alternative to using pharmaceuticals. Go to spiritualgrowththerapy.com to learn more. Mr. Alleva offers a special discount on his video tutorials for his readers, so please use Promo Code 7474 for a special 90% discount. He is currently in private practice with his wife, Lisa. He lives with his wife and children in Boca Raton, Florida.

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Soft Iron by Megan Slayer – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Megan is giving away a prize pack featuring a necklace made by the author. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Bia is the goddess of strength and compulsion, but those traits have her trapped in iron. A simple kiss could break the curse, but who wants to kiss a statue? Especially a statue of a woman stabbing a man in the heart? She knows better than to hope her celestial mate will find her, but what if her hopes are justified?

Oliver, a very quiet, geeky guy, knows his way around fabric and fashion. He excels at his job of dressing mannequins for storefronts, but he’s lonely. When he sees the statue of Bia, he’s smitten. She’s everything—strong, confident and sexy—everything he wishes to be. What will happen if the shy man overcomes his fears and gives in to his heart’s desire? He just might be able to harness the power of the goddess.

Read an Excerpt

©Megan Slayer, 2018 All Rights Reserved

He waited until the door closed and peeked around the closest boxes. He didn’t want anyone listening in to his conversation. Call him overly private, but he liked keeping some things to himself.

Oliver whipped his phone from his pocket and snapped a few shots of the statue for future reference. He draped his bag over his shoulder, then hesitated.

Oliver turned and ascended the ladder one more time. He stared into her black eyes. He didn’t know what to say, but he felt he owed her a good-bye of sorts. “I’ll do my best for you to make you beautiful,” he said, then pressed his lips to hers. His mouth tingled and he bit back a moan. He’d never forget the statue. He’d see her again, but still she was one in a million.

Oliver eased away from her and touched his mouth. “Good night, Bia. Until tomorrow.”

He climbed down the ladder and headed out of the stockroom. He’d find the best dress and make her look stunning. Now he had to get her out of his mind so he could focus on his other jobs. He waved at Kratos, who was on the phone, then left the store. His favorite consignment shop tended to have summery dresses in stock and always the one-of-a-kind garments he preferred. If he played his cards right, he’d be able to find what he needed, get the statue dressed, and still make it to his six o’clock appointment before Matilde had a snit fit. Time to hit the stores.

About the Author:

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

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