Falling from the Nest by Bobbie Candas – Spotlight and Giveaway

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

Spring 1946–Following four years of war on the heels of the decade-long Great Depression, Americans are finally feeling a sense of hope that begins sweeping the nation…

Jo-Jo Anderson feels that optimism too. Slipping the reins of her Iowa farming town, Jo leaves to make her mark on the entertainment scene in Manhattan. Audiences are clamoring for new musicals on Broadway, nightclubs are flourishing, and NYC is the beating heart of the radio networks. After arriving, Jo-Jo quickly realizes that thousands of would-be stars are following her same ambitions, making opportunities scarce, but her luck begins to turn when she hears about Talent Jackpot.

Her twin, Sarah, finds success with her studies as a scholarship student at the University of Iowa. But Sarah is adrift socially, finding it difficult to forge friendships. Her perfectly planned life is upended when her hometown boyfriend announces he’s suddenly joined the navy. Sarah’s top grades draw the attention of a crusty biology professor and after accepting his offer of a lab position, her rigid lifestyle gets a lot more complicated.

This novel tells a story of unexpected change. The twins make their way through multiple challenges with humor, ambition, and heartbreak but remain tied together by the bonds of sisterhood, winding their way through the seedier backdoors of the entertainment business, and into college dorm life and love nest apartments.

With the historical backdrop of the post WW2 era, Falling From The Nest, reads as a stand-alone story but also serves as a sequel to author Bobbie Candas’ previous novel, The Lost and Found of Green Tree.

Enjoy an Excerpt

The last of the audition line moved forward and I was suddenly thrust up on the stage of the Imperial Theater. There were three lines of ten on stage, filled with nervous male and female hopefuls auditioning for chorus line spots for a new Irving Berlin musical, Annie Get Your Gun. I could smell my fear as it branched out within me in tingling connections from my frozen face down to my feet. Feet that now felt like dead weights attached to heeled dance shoes whose soles were glued to the floor. I’d arrived late and was in the last group of an open-call audition and purposely nudged myself into the center of the middle line, hoping for a hiding spot. But hiding is hard when you’re a leggy, five-foot-nine, pale blonde female in a string of short, muscular dancers. Kinda like a spotted giraffe among the lions.

After lining up, our executioner and choreographer took about sixty seconds to show us a dozen linking steps to an opening dance sequence. His arrogant face, slim body, and searching eyes leaned back appraising the lines. “OK, boys and girls, this one’s simple. Think you got it?” Everyone around me anxiously nodded yes.

No, I wanted to shout. Repeat please!

The orchestra in the pit began cranking out a tune, as the choreographer yelled out…”And a one, and a two–knee up, kick left, circle back, hop, hop, knee up, kick right…” Then he motioned for the music to stop.

An exasperated expression covered his face. “Ladies and gentlemen, these are the basics, the easy connections. Let’s start again on three. And a one, and a two–knee up, kick left, circle back, hop, hop…” He stuck his arm out, motioning again for the music to stop.

“Alright, first cuts.” His long arm and dismissive finger pointed to the guilty dancers. “Tall blonde, center middle row, thank you. You…guy on the end, first row, that will be all. Back row, green sweater, left side, you may leave.”

He sighed deeply, clapped his hands, and said. “Let’s go again, cue music…repeat.”

About the Author: I’m a Texas girl: grew up in San Antonio, went to school at UT in Austin where I earned my degree in journalism, and settled in Dallas where I raised a husband, two kids and a few cats. My husband, Mehmet, and the cats will probably disagree on who raised who, but I’m a sucker for a robust discussion.

For years I was involved in retail management, but in 2014 I refocused on my writing, taking deep dives into the lives of my characters. When you can pry my fingers off the keyboard, I enjoy entertaining, sharing food and drink with friends and family. I enjoy shopping, usually on the hunt for apparel, with a special weakness for shoes, and will frequently jump at the opportunity of an unexpected trip to a far-away place.

And I always make time for reading. I keep a stack of novels ready and waiting on my night stand, with a few tapping their toe in my Kindle. I bounce around genres, and I’m always ready for a good recommendation.

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The Making of a Horror Writer by C.M. Forest – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author 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.

The Making of a Horror Writer
Horror writers, in my opinion, are a special breed. We all seem to have a love for the genre that dates all the way back to childhood. A desire for all things spooky that seems to reside in our DNA. I am no different.

My own origin story begins when I was about seven, or maybe eight years old. I was raised by a single mom who worked most nights, which meant that I was under the care of my older brother. He was five years my senior (putting him around thirteen), and he absolutely loved horror (movies and books). On the nights our mom was working, my brother would sit on the couch and obsessively watch scary movies. Everything from Friday the 13th to Ghoulies. Now, picture little, tiny me, faced with two options. One, go elsewhere in our house, alone, while the sounds of bloody mayhem bounced through the rooms of our home from the television. Scared out of my mind. Or two, sit and actually watch these terrifying bits of cinema, but do so from the safety of being next to my big brother. Spoiler alert, I chose the latter.

From there, the horror tree (because that’s how I sort of picture it. The seed was planted while watching those movies with my brother) continued to grow. Once again, my brother was influential in the next step of my evolution, as he introduced me to horror literature. Some of the first horror novels I ever read were bowered from him. Richard Laymon, Stephen King, and Dean Koontz all came to me by way of his book shelves.

By the time I reached adulthood, the tree was in full bloom. I no longer needed my brother to provide me with the goods (like some sort of horror drug dealer). I was finding them just fine on my own. Which is why, when I first sat before my computer and had the notion that I would like to try my hand at writing, it was obvious what the genre would be. I had been training for it my whole life.


Dug from the twisted mind of C.M. Forest, the acclaimed author of Infested, comes a collection of 15 horror stories that will drag you into the abyss of fear and despair.

A fast-food playland with a nightmarish secret, a greenhouse with a bug problem, a busload of kids lost in the woods, a trip through the solar system to investigate a strange comet, and many more.

Brace yourself for an unrelenting journey through a world where evil knows no bounds, and darkness consumes all.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Alison got out of her car, the engine still on, and staggered down the road. Blood soaked through the front of her dress. It looked black—like a growing oil spill—under the sickly haze of the street lights. A smattering trail of circles on the pavement marked her route as she stumbled away. Her underwear, torn and soiled, hung limply around one ankle.

She did not want to look back at the car, but a deep, primal urge overrode all her wants and desires. Even as her body trembled, she found herself peeking over her shoulder. Tendrils of mist, which were seeping in off the nearby dark fields, gave her vehicle a ghostly appearance. A 3000-pound wraith waiting to lunge. The headlights, blazing though the fog, seemed to stare back at her. The fender, a taunting grin. Specks of blood dotted the windshield from the inside; gory handprints stained the seats.

Something moved within the car. An arm, a face, briefly—horribly—illuminated by the interior lights. A shifting figure, covered in a blanket of shining viscera. It was already bigger than it should be. It was growing fast.

About the Author: C.M. Forest, also known as Christian Laforet, is the author of the novel Infested, the novella We All Fall Before the Harvest, the short story collection The Space Between Houses, as well as the co-author of the short-story collection No Light Tomorrow. His short fiction has been featured in several anthologies across multiple genres. A self-proclaimed horror movie expert, he spent an embarrassing amount of his youth watching scary movies. When not writing, he lives in Ontario, Canada with his wife, kids, three cats and a pandemic dog named Sully who has an ongoing love affair with a blanket.

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What I would tell an aspiring or new author (and often have) by Kathleen Buckley – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Kathleen Buckley will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

What I would tell an aspiring or new author (and often have)

Learning to write well takes time. Athletes train and practice a lot; so do musicians and artists. Your first attempts will not be your best. Write every day if you can, or at least regularly. Turn off your phone/radio/TV and put a Do Not Disturb sign on your door if you don’t live alone. What you write about doesn’t matter as much as that you write: a long, chatty letter, a journal entry, an account of something you saw or experienced, an anecdote about your pet iguana. It’s all practice. I’ve heard it claimed that writing by hand is helpful because supposedly the connection between your brain, hand and paper is shorter than between your brain, fingers and keyboard. Try it if you wish. After all, Jane Austen and Sir Walter Scott wrote by hand and they did all right.

Approach writing as you would any major project and take it one step at a time. Do not become discouraged. Do not wait for inspiration to strike. Maybe you know how the story starts, develops, and finishes. Good. You’re a planner. Maybe you know how it starts…and how it will somehow end. You’re a seat-of-the-pants writer (a “pantser”). That’s all right, too. My own books tend to grow out of the characters rather than the characters being forced to follow my plans.

If you find yourself stalled at some point in your story, don’t despair. Maybe you’re tired or having a bad week at work. Letting it sit for a few days or a week should take care of that. After years, I learned that when I don’t know how to continue, it’s because what I want my characters to do is inconsistent with the way I’ve developed them. The characters have gone on strike. This happened in Hidden Treasures. I’d come to the place where I needed to start wrapping the story up and my mind was a blank. Drag the villain in front of a magistrate and… And what? He was not a conventionally good man but he wasn’t evil. His secretive ways frightened the female protagonist, and rightly so. He was not unkind. What if everything he had done came from good intentions or because he had few or no good options in the harsh 18th century. That idea gave me a satisfyingly twisty conclusion.

You’ve finished your story or novel. Wonderful! Go over it, looking for typos, grammatical infelicities, words that aren’t quite the right word, and clunky writing*. Do not—NOT!—throw it up on KDP immediately. That seldom turns out well. Set it aside for a month and do not look at it. Then go over it again. You’ll almost certainly find the above problems and maybe also glitches with flow or continuity or where the character’s description or backstory changes. Fix them. In theory, a spelling and grammar checker should help weed out common problems. In my experience, the free ones are pretty useless. If you are not confident about those necessary skills, if you have a friend, relative or fellow aspiring author who is, see if they’ll go over it for you.

But that’s not all there is to being a writer. Learn to accept literary criticism because there will be some, no matter how successful you become. My own opinion of James Joyce’s Ulysses would strip paint. Learn the difference between valid, helpful criticism (the politically correct word is “critique”) and criticism that is not useful.

“If the author had revealed something of the protagonist’s mind rather than only his actions, we might understand what motivated his heroic action.” Translation: deep POV needed.

“I wish the author had not had her Regency period characters use modern catchphrases and slang and had done enough research to know that gas street lamps were not widely used in London until the mid-19th century.” Unless you know the subject you’re writing about intimately, do your research.

“This book sucked. It was a total waste of money.” This is not helpful because it tells nothing about why the reader disliked it. Maybe the subject matter “triggered” him/her. Maybe it simply didn’t appeal.

“It’s a romance so I expected a steamy read.” This may be semi-valid if the cover of your sweet/traditional romance shows half-clothed characters. Reader, be warned: if there are no unclad people passionately embracing, there probably won’t be explicit sex.

Don’t expect to make enough money to give up your day job. Most writers don’t earn enough to do that. But if you love writing, don’t stop.

*Clunky writing: telling rather than showing, passive verbs, too many or misplaced clauses, too many or weak adjectives and adverbs. Examples of the latter: “She ran quickly” conveys less than “She sprinted”, and “…pretty pink petals” is vague. “…petals soft as pink silk” is a more vivid image.

Allan Everard, an earl’s illegitimate son, is dismissed from his employment at his father’s death but inherits a former coaching inn. Needing to make a new life in London, he begins by leasing the inn to a charity.

Unexpectedly orphaned, Rosabel Stanbury and her younger sister are made wards of a distant, unknown cousin. Fearing his secretive ways and his intentions for them, Rosabel and Oriana flee to London where they are taken in by a women’s charity.

Drawn into Rosabel’s problems, with his inn under surveillance by criminals, Allan has only a handful of unlikely allies, including an elderly general, a burglar, and an old lady who knows criminal slang. A traditional romance.

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“Sir, we came to London to live with our grandfather, but he is ill, and we couldn’t see him, and our uncle’s wife didn’t believe we are his grandchildren, and now we have no place to go.”

Rosabel wished whoever he was might be able to aid them, knowing she dare not trust him, not after their encounter with the woman at the inn. He was probably a rakehell. Gentlemen did not otherwise concern themselves with females of the servant class, as they must appear to be, clad in their dusty, countrified clothing.

Blinking away her last tears, she was tempted to revise her opinion. His plain black suit, slight body, and untidy hair suggested quite another sort of man. His eyes twinkled when she met his gaze. “May I introduce myself, ma’am? Wilfred Simmons, curate, St. Giles-without-Cripplegate. If you and your sister have nowhere to stay, your situation is serious. London is a hard place even for men if they have no work and no money. A female without resources risks danger to both body and soul. Please let me assist you.”

She bit her lip. Mr. Simmons appeared to be respectable. He had a gentleman’s voice and was no more than four-and-twenty, she guessed. Beside her, Ory sniffed dolefully.

“You are wise not to be too trusting. I have friends who will vouch for me inside.” He smiled at her expression. “Ma’am, no one has ever been abducted from St. George’s Church, Hanover Square.”

About the Author: Kathleen Buckley writes traditional historical romance (i.e. no explicit sex). There are fewer ballrooms and aristocratic courting rituals in her books and more problems than does-he-love-me/does-he-not. Sometimes there’s humor. Kathleen wanted to write from the time she learned to read and pursued this passion through a Master’s Degree in English, followed by the kind of jobs one might expect: light bookkeeping, security officer, paralegal. She did sell two stories to the late Robert Bloch, author of Psycho. And no, he wasn’t late at the time.

After moving to Albuquerque, New Mexico, she wrote her first historical romance, striving for Georgette Heyer’s style, followed by nine more.

In Kathleen’s gentle romances, the characters tend to slide into love rather than fall in lust. Their stories are often set against the background of family relationships, crime, and legal issues, probably because of her work in a law firm.

When she’s not writing or reading, she enjoys cooking dishes from eighteenth century cookbooks. Those dishes and more appear in her stories. Udder and root vegetables, anyone?

Kathleen Buckley’s current work in progress is her first historical mystery, tentatively titled A Murder of Convenience.

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Choice by Dora Farkas – Spotlight and Giveaway

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

Val is a young Mexican-American quantum physicist and single mother struggling with an anxiety disorder and financial challenges. Her world is turned upside down when her ex-husband files for full custody of their three-year-old daughter to take her across the country where he was offered a job. The story unfolds as she decides either to stay put in Boston and meet job related deadlines or go on a holiday and visit her parents in Mexico.

Encouraged by her father, Val flies to Mexico with Maya, her service dog, and Daisy, her daughter, and she discovers a world of magic that will change her outlook on life forever. She also reconnects with her childhood friend, Mercedes, who gives her a glimmer of hope. Things, however, are not what they seem to be. As all areas of her life begin to fall apart, Val must explore the power of her intuition and make different choices to change the course of her and her daughter’s futures.

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While growing up, Mom and I had a special tradition: every Friday afternoon, she showed me how to cook and bake her family’s recipes, some of them as old as 400 years. As soon as I could stand, she pulled up a stool for me, and I watched her prepare dishes from her native town in Oaxaca, Mexico, which had been passed down from mother to daughter for many generations.

Although she had to create a new home when she and Dad moved from Oaxaca to a suburb of Boston before I was born, she made sure that I would be well-prepared to pass on our family’s recipes to my children. My memories from elementary school are filled with rolling churros in cinnamon sugar, measuring out ingredients for our family’s secret mole recipe, and taking turns with Mom mixing sweet corn dough for tamales.

When I was in middle school, she stood right next to me as I simmered the sweetened milk for capirotada, the bread pudding my family ate every Easter, and nodded in approval as the deep aroma of cinnamon sticks, brown sugar, and cloves filled the air. The older I became, the more Mom expected from me in the kitchen, but there was one thing that never changed throughout the years: whenever we cooked and baked together, time stood still.

About the Author: Although Dora was born in Budapest, Hungary, she lived in Mexico for five years during her early childhood. Her connection to the Mexican language, history, and cooking inspired the cultural setting for her debut novel, “Choice.”

After getting her doctorate from MIT, she published her first book, “The Smart Way to Your Ph.D.” which paved the way for a six-figure consulting business while she was a stay-at-home mom with two daughters. She has given workshops about writing at MIT, Tufts, Boston University, the University of Connecticut, Ohio State University, the Scripps Research Institute, the University of Calgary, and the University of British Columbia.

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Stellar Heir by Scott Killian – Spotlight 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.

Jael Ked’Korhva hadn’t anticipated becoming the galaxy’s most wanted.

He hadn’t planned on picking up a strange alien artifact, either, but once it was clasped around his wrist, Jael was granted extraordinary abilities. His senses were heightened, his reflexes faster, and he could now regenerate from damage that would spell the end for others, which was a boon, considering he was just a derelict scavenger.

That was until forces from every corner of the stars wanted Jael’s artifact for themselves, and they’ll stop at nothing to take it back. What initially appears as a boon swiftly transforms into a weighty charge. Yet, it’s a charge Jael accepts without hesitation, understanding the catastrophic potential should the relic fall into the wrong hands.

Prodded onward by visions of an ancient ally and a mysterious enemy, Jael becomes a pivotal piece in a vast interstellar play of power and dominion.

An action-packed space opera, perfect for science fiction fans of Sun Eater by Christopher Ruocchio or The Mercy of Gods by James S. A. Corey.

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Jael’s world shifted, reality melting away as the woman’s touch transported his consciousness across the vastness of space. The galaxy unfurled before him, countless stars and vibrant worlds.

A creeping darkness emerged from the fringes, seeping into the cosmic fabric like spilled ink. Jael watched in horror as the void engulfed entire star systems, extinguishing their light with terrifying efficiency.

Planets that once teemed with life withered under the encroaching shadow. Lush forests crumbled to ash, oceans boiled away, and sprawling cities crumbled into dust. The screams of billions echoed across the vacuum, abruptly silenced as the darkness consumed them.

Stars flickered and died, snuffed out like candles in a gale. Nebulae collapsed, their swirling colors fading to a dull, lifeless gray. The galaxy’s spiral arms now resembled dark skeletal fingers reaching into nothingness.

As the last remnants of light faded, Jael found himself suspended in an endless, inky void. The darkness was not still, but writhed and pulsated. Shapeless entities, darker than the blackness surrounding them, twisted and coiled through the emptiness.

The woman’s voice echoed in his mind, “This is the future that awaits if you fail. The enemy comes, and with it, the end of all things.” She moved in close and placed a hand on his cheek. “Find me on Dusrist before it is too late.”

As the woman began to fade, behind her, another figure began to materialize. A shadow Jael hadn’t thought about in years.

Jael’s breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding against his chest. The figure’s face slowly came into focus—a sharp jawline, weathered by time and countless wars, gray, ashen skin, a tell-tale sign of genetic alteration and eyes that Jael would never forget. Those predatory, multi-pupiled eyes that had haunted Jael’s nightmares since he was a child.

About the Author: Scott Killian grew up in California where he consumed every bit of sci-fi and horror media he could find. Delving deep into the works of Thomas Harris, Stephen King and H. P. Lovecraft to name a few, those dark portals in his mind were opened and his obsession with the macabre began. Story telling, in any form, is his greatest passion.

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Where Do Ideas Come From? by Eliza Hampstead – Guest Post and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author 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.

Where Do Ideas Come From?
It’s a tricky question because ideas come from so many places—life experiences, dreams, conversations, and even random thoughts that pop into my head. But if I’m being completely honest, for me, a lot of my stories start with one very specific idea: a spicy scene full of tension between two characters.

That’s how The Nephilim’s Fate began. Before I had any concept of the world, the plot, or even the characters’ full backstories, I had this vivid scene in my mind. It was charged with chemistry, unspoken desire, and an insurmountable conflict between two people who clearly couldn’t be together. The scene was so compelling that it made me wonder, “Why can’t they be together? What’s stopping them?” That simple, burning question set the entire book into motion.

For The Nephilim’s Fate, that initial scene was the one where Alissia and Nate meet for the first time. There’s an undeniable pull between them, but they can’t act on it—something ancient and powerful stands in their way. That one moment made me ask myself a series of questions: Why can’t they kiss? What is this force keeping them apart? Why would it matter if they did? And just like that, the characters’ backgrounds and the world they lived in started to take shape.

I quickly realized that Nate had to be a Nephilim, a being part-angel, part-human. But what about Alissia? She felt like she needed to be a witch, someone who could balance Nate’s power with her own magic. But again, why could Nephilim and witches not be together? That’s when the idea of an ancient text came into play—a law forbidding their union. But why was that law created in the first place? Who wrote it, and what would happen if they defied it?

From those initial questions, an entire world was built, layer by layer. The history of the Nephilim, the witches, and their centuries-long feud unfolded before me. I created a conflict that went beyond just a forbidden romance—it became a battle of ancient magic, powerful prophecies, and a looming threat to both worlds.

I think that’s the beauty of starting with a spicy, tension-filled scene. It’s like a spark that ignites the whole creative process. You don’t need to have every detail figured out from the beginning. You just need that one intense moment, that one central conflict, that makes you curious enough to dig deeper, to ask yourself more questions. What started as a simple “Why can’t they kiss?” became a full-blown love story set in a world of magic, danger, and destiny.

Every writer’s process is different, but for me, ideas often come from exploring the emotional and physical tension between characters. Once that connection is there, the world and the plot start to build themselves. All it takes is a single scene—the right amount of conflict, desire, and intrigue—and suddenly, I’ve got an entire story in front of me, just waiting to be written.

She will find a way, even if it leads to a war between Heaven and Hell.

In the heart of London, Alissia’s ordinary life takes a thrilling turn when she is attacked by bloodthirsty vampires. When Nate, the man she dreamed about for years, swoops in to save her, her reality shatters as she discovers a shocking truth: she’s a witch, and he’s a Nephilim. But their love is cursed, forbidden by ancient laws that threaten to tear their world apart.

As old rivalries resurface and dark secrets come to light, Alissia and Nate must confront their deepest fears and fight for their love, even if it means igniting a war between Heaven and Hell.

With unforgettable characters, steamy romance, and gripping plot twists, this captivating new fantasy series by award-winning author Eliza Hampstead delves into a world of angels and demons, forbidden love, and the inexorable power of fate.

If you crave the intensity of Shadowhunters with an added dose of spice, don’t miss out on this spellbinding series!

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Letting the magic come to me in the same way it had begun in the park, I smelled pine needles and mushrooms. At that moment, I wanted to push to get it deeper, but I forced myself to stay relaxed and let it flow through me while I told the plant how terrific it would be outside. Sun, water, and CO2 for photosynthesis, all were waiting for her if she would come out of the soil, and that my magic would help her grow faster, that she doesn’t have to wait any longer. The feeling of earth magic got stronger, and the inner picture before me was bathed in green. I said the words of the spell. After that, I focused again on the plant, imagining how the seed germinated, how the sprouting fought its way to the surface, how the seed leaves opened, sheeting the seed coat, and how the first leaves developed and opened.

Suddenly, I heard clapping. Losing my concentration, I opened my eyes. Umbra stood before me, a broad smile on her face.

“You did it!”

I frowned for a second before I looked down. The seedling stood before me, the seed coat next to it on the soil. Exactly how I had imagined it. I put my hand in front of my mouth, tears welling in my eyes.

“I did it. I did it!” I jumped up and down, clapping my hands. I was a real witch! I could do magic, after all! Full of joy, I embraced Umbra and circled her around while we both laughed.

About the Author: Award winning author Eliza Hampstead, a scientist by training, lives with her family in the UK. When she’s not writing, she spends her time as a geek. Playing all sorts of games (board games, video games, RPGs) and being a big fan of medieval history are only a few of the many hobbies she has. Passionate about fantasy, she’s always planning her next adventure.

Sign up for Eliza’s newsletter to get exclusive updates on new releases, behind-the-scenes author news, and exciting extras like character interviews, maps, playlists, and bonus chapters that bring the books even more to life!

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Spiral by Randy Dean Noble – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

They’re in the number one watched game in the world… or so they were told. But they have no memory of who or where they are. Something beyond their wildest imaginations awaits to mercilessly strike them down. And looming in the darkness is something worse… much worse.

Green—named after the color of car he’s driving—awakens on the side of a dark highway surrounded by dense forest. And he’s in an old muscle car with no way to tell time, no cell phone, and the radio doesn’t work. When he encounters others like himself, they have to join forces to unravel the mystery surrounding them. Yet, trust doesn’t come easily—someone amongst them is a saboteur.

With their lives at stake, they are compelled to engage in a race where being last means certain death. They must disentangle the truth that threatens to consume them, before they spiral out of control.

Spiral is a gripping tale of survival, coalition, and the terrifying secrets that lie hidden in the shadows.

Prepare for a rip-roaring, adrenaline-fueled ride that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very last page.

If you enjoy books by authors like Dean Koontz and Blake Crouch that involve supernatural thrills laced with fast-paced action, then check out Randy Dean Noble’s exciting horror thriller, Spiral, today.

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Have you ever had an instinct so strong that you had to comply? It’s all I had. An overwhelming feeling to run.

I woke up in a car I didn’t recognize, seated behind the wheel, with no memory of how I got there, no idea what day it was or what time other than I could clearly see it was night. I had no watch and no cell phone. The engine idled with a deep rumble, the gear shifter in neutral, and the emergency brake had been depressed. It was a standard transmission. Did I know how to drive a standard? I couldn’t remember.

And when I woke, every part of my being screamed at me to go, to just drive. The longer I contemplated, the sweatier my hands got, sliding on the hard, cracked green steering wheel. My heart palpitated faster and faster.

It was dark out, like really dark. A moonless night. Initially, disorientation didn’t register where I was, but it didn’t take long to see I was pulled over on the side of a highway.

My heartbeat thumped in my chest like it was trying to escape. Wide eyes greeted me in the rearview mirror, eyes I didn’t recognize, nor the sweat-beading bald head reflecting back.

Who was I?

A flicker of movement caught my attention—in the ditch, near the line of pine trees. The headlights were on the high setting.

When I turned my head to look, nothing was there, but I swear I saw… something.

About the Author:

Randy Dean Noble is a supernatural thriller kind of guy. He grew up in Canada on a slew of movies and books (action/adventure, horror, sci-fi, and fantasy), all of which have inspired his writing interests. Working a plethora of minimum wage jobs took Randy into computer science and a career in I.T. (because he didn’t want to eat PB&J for the rest of his life). But his passion has always been writing, and his dream is to be a full-time fiction author. He writes stories he wants to read, which end up as fast-paced thrilling escape stories meant for one thing: to entertain the reader from beginning to end. His most recent work, Spiral, is a horror thriller wild ride you won’t soon forget.

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Stilettos and Gunpowder by Gail Koger – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.


My name is Gemma Stone. I’m a Maricopa County Sheriff’s Deputy and not only must I deal with the sweat-soaked misery of the Arizona desert, I get to respond to a bunch of crazy 9-1-1 calls all day long. Like a parakeet up a tree, or a car accident where a tractor trailer full of fireworks is hit and the 4th of July comes a bit early.

But some days crime takes a deadly turn. Police cars are suddenly blowing up. Detective Sergeant Dante Delgado, the love of my life, was assigned to track down and stop the bomber. Am I worried? You betcha. There’s a madman on the loose and he is very, very good at making bombs.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, the Feds think I’m in cahoots with an Iraqi warlord who deals in stolen antiquities, Ichabod, my murderous ex-dance partner, escapes from prison and I’m suddenly in everyone’s crosshairs.

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I leaned over and gave Dante a long voracious kiss. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“What do you want?” Dante asked suspiciously.

I gave him my best lovesick expression. “Nothing. Can’t I be affectionate?” I stroked his rock-hard abs.

Julie snickered behind her book.

“I know the way your mind works, Gemma.” His hand covered mine.

I shrugged. “I just think it’s time you met Grandpa Reynolds.”

“The chicken wrangler?”

“That’s him. He owns Reynold’s Egg Ranch out by Buckeye. He has a hundred thousand cage-free hens, and I’ll get him to give you the grand tour.”

Dante stared at me like I had lost my mind. “What makes you think I want to see a bunch of smelly chickens?”

“To make me happy.”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay, I’m going stir crazy and it’s been a while since I’ve visited Grandpa.”

Julie leaped out of the recliner. “I’m with Gemma. We’ve been stuck in this house for over a week and the only excitement we’ve had is when the taskforce sends their goons to interrogate us. Plus, I always wanted to drive a 1968 Camaro.”

“Not a chance.” Dante stood up and pulled me to my feet. “Put your shoes on and we’ll go visit your grandpa.”

I planted a hot one on his mouth. “Thank you. Thank you. You won’t be sorry.”

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

“And if I was?”

Dante rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Is it legal?”

“Define legal.”

“Your dad is going to kick my ass. You can give me the details on the drive out to see the chickens,” Dante said.

About the Author: I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher for the Glendale Police Department and to keep from going totally bonkers – I mean people have no idea what a real emergency is. Take this for example: I answered, “9-1-1 emergency, what’s your emergency?” And this hysterical woman yelled, “My bird is in a tree.” Sometimes I really couldn’t help myself, so I said, “Birds have a tendency to do that, ma’am.” The woman screeched, “No! You don’t understand. My pet parakeet is in the tree. I’ve just got to get him down.” Like I said, not a clue. “I’m sorry ma’am but we don’t get birds out of trees.” The woman then cried, “But… What about my husband? He’s up there, too.” See what I had to deal with? To keep from hitting myself repeatedly in the head with my phone I took up writing.

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Top Five Books of All Time by M. Laszlo – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. M. Laszlo 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.

Top Five Books of All Time

Little Pictures of Japan

This book was published by the Book House for Children in Chicago, and it’s an anthology of profound and beautiful haikus from the Shogun era mixed with lovely sketches by Katharine Sturges. This book makes me happy and at peace as no other book can do. Here’s a personal favorite: ‘The end of autumn/And some crows/Perched upon a withered branch.’ By the way, that haiku was written by Basho—arguably Japan’s greatest poet.

Stranger in a Strange Land

Heinlein’s most famous novel has to be on this list. It isn’t just a great, thought-provoking science fiction work. The story quite obviously parallels the Gospel. And that was why it was so fun to read the work: the reader is constantly toggling between Heinlein and whatever the evangelist, always trying to compare and to contrast the two very different messianic tales. Perhaps my favorite scene is the one in which nothing much happens. Jubal Harshaw is at home one night and looks out at his backyard and softly-lit swimming pool. For a moment, he studies the Martian, Valentine Michael Smith, and wonders if he doesn’t resemble Michelangelo’s David—right down to the ‘puppyish’ hands. The writing is beautiful, suffice it to say.

Hesiod’s Works and Days

Read this one in English translation. Loved it. Hesiod records all the basic primordial myths regarding the creation and the rise of humankind. And he writes in the most poetic and lucid way. The story of Pandora’s Box might seem misogynistic to some, but even so, it’s a beautiful tale. And what about the story of Prometheus? Has anyone ever come up with a better idea than to write a book purporting to explain the origin of fire? And has anyone ever come up with a more interesting character than Prometheus? I don’t think so.

The Three Musketeers

Read this one in English translation, too. Normally, it offends me to read a book that makes warfare and violence seem like fun; nevertheless, The Three Musketeers will have to be the proverbial exception to prove the rule. The plot is riveting. No other book can compare. Let’s not forget that according to Aristotle nothing is more important than mythos or plot. The book reminded me of the biblical books of Samuel, too. Still, everything is reversed. In Scripture, young David is loyal to the clergy, and the statist, Saul, is the villain. In the work by Dumas, Dartagnan is loyal to the state—and Cardinal Richelieu is the evildoer.

Frankenstein

Speaking of Prometheus, how can we forget Mary Shelley’s masterpiece? Perhaps the best thing about it is that it’s a triumph of point of view. Everyone gets a say—both the Modern Prometheus and the Creature, too. It seems to me that the best horror stories tend to vary point of view. Perhaps that’s because when we are frightened we notice different, erroneous things than others do. Our imagination runs wild. Who knows. One other poignant thing: the Creature longs for a companion. In some respects then, the book is about loneliness itself.

Obsessed with learning the origins of the cosmos, the actual meaning of life, and the true purpose of civilization, a fine Scotsman named Fingal T. Smyth dedicates himself to the study of Plato’s most extraordinary ideas. Convinced of Plato’s belief that humankind possesses any and all innate knowledge deep within the collective unconscious mind, Fingal soon conducts a series of bold, pioneering occult-science experiments by which to resolve the riddle of the universe once and for all. However, Fingal forgets how violent and perilous the animal impulses that reside in the deepest recesses of the unconscious mind. And when Fingal unleashes a mysterious avatar of his innate knowledge, the entity appears as a burning man and immediately seeks to manipulate innocent and unsuspecting people everywhere into immolating themselves. Now, with little hope of returning the fiery figure into his being, Fingal must capture his nemesis before it destroys the world.

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Autumn, 1907: late one morning, some kind of torrid, invisible beast seemed to wrap itself all around Fingal T. Smyth’s body. Each one of his toes twitching fiercely, he exited the castle and scanned the distant, Scottish Highlands. Go back where you came from. As the entity wrapped itself tighter all about his person, Fingal blinked back his tears. I’m melting, I am. Aye, it’s the heat of fusion.

Gradually, the beast’s heartbeat became audible—each pulsation. At the same time, too, the illusory heat of transformation emitted an odor as of oven-roasted peppercorns dissolving in a cup of burnt coffee.

Over by the gatehouse, Fräulein Wunderwaffe appeared—the little German girl wearing a plain-sewn robe and square-crown bowler. In that moment, she no longer seemed to be a sickly child of seven years: her inscrutable expression resembled that of a wise, indifferent cat.

Perhaps even some kind of lioness. Fingal cringed, and he recalled a fragment of conversation from three weeks earlier.

“She suffers from a most unnatural pathology, an anguished, maniacal obsession with cats,” Doktor Hubertus Pflug had explained. “Ever since the poor girl was a baby, she has always regarded it her fate to one day metamorphose into a glorious panther, for she believes herself to be ein Gestaltwandler. Do you know this word? It means shapeshifter and refers to someone who possesses the power to take the form of anything in nature.”

The heat radiated up and down Fingal’s spine now, and his thoughts turned back to the present. Aye, it’s a change of phase. I’m melting into a chemical compound. Despite all, he greeted the girl and willed himself to flash a grin.

About the Author

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M. Laszlo is an aging recluse who lives in Bath, Ohio. Rumor holds that his pseudonym is a reference to Victor Laszlo, a character in the classic film Casablanca. On the Threshold is his first release with the acclaimed, Australian hybrid house AIA Publishing. Oddly, M. Laszlo insists that his latest work, On the Threshold, does in fact provide the correct answer to the riddle of the universe.

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Men of the 65th by Talia Aikens-Nunez – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Talia Aikens-Nunez will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Honor and Fidelity. That is the motto of the 65th Infantry Regiment, also known as the Borinqueneers, the only Puerto Rican unit in the United States Army.

Since the regiment’s creation in 1899, the men of the 65th have proudly served the US through multiple wars, despite facing racial discrimination. Their courage, loyalty, and patriotism earned them hundreds of accolades, including the Congressional Gold Medal in 2014.

But the honor and fidelity of the men of the 65th came into question in 1952, in the midst of the Korean War, when ninety-one Borinqueneers were arrested and tried for desertion and disobeying orders. How could this happen in one of the most distinguished and decorated units of the Army?

In this telling of one of the forgotten stories of the Korean War, author Talia Aikens-Nuñez guides us through the history of the Borinqueneers and the challenges they faced leading up to what was the largest court martial in the entire war. Rediscover the bravery of the men of the 65th through Aikens-Nuñez’s thorough writing and the soldiers’ firsthand accounts of the Korean War.

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[T]he US public was shocked to discover that during the war, 162 soldiers of the 65th Infantry Regiment had been court-martialed and ninety-one of those soldiers found guilty of disobeying orders and desertion.

The US military kept the courts-martial quiet. But the soldiers of the 65th sent letters to their families describing what was happening, which led to public outcry and confusion from the press. How could one of the most distinguished regiments of the Korean War, whose soldiers had only months before been praised by General Douglas MacArthur for their “brilliant record of heroism,” become involved in the largest mass court-martial of the Korean War?

Did the Borinqueneers lose their bravery and heroism in such a short time? Or were they victims of discrimination in a prejudiced and segregated system? Were they betrayed by the country they risked their lives for?

This is the story of one of the bravest and most decorated regiments in the history of the US military. It is a forgotten story in a forgotten war. But it is a story of patriotism, loyalty, and bravery in the face of danger and discrimination, and it is one that deserves to be told.

About the Author:

Talia Aikens-Nuñez writes chapter books, picture books, and nonfiction for children. Her daughter inspired her to write her OMG Series of books about an accidental little witch. She and her husband live on a river in Connecticut with their daughter and son.

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