Thursday, February 28, 2019

Book Tour & Giveaway ~ The Haunted Series by Allie Harrison

Haunted Book 1
Allie Harrison

Paranormal Romance

waits for her in the cellar?

a child, Torrie Reynolds entered the haunted Hargrove House on a
dare. Terrified by what she'd heard while inside Hargrove House, she
avoided it since. 
fifteen years later, Will Dalton offers Torrie the job of
refurbishing it, and she has no choice but to take the offer to keep
her business afloat. But there is something about Will Dalton that
Torrie’s heart can’t ignore, something that calls to her in her
dreams, something about him that her soul recognizes.
the house is restored and rooms come alive with character and color
Torrie brings to them, her fear of the house fades and her attraction
to Will grows stronger. Hargrove House begins to even feel like home
to her. With each finished renovation project, it is harder for
Torrie to leave the house...Or Will. 
although she wants nothing more than a life with Will Dalton within
Hargrove House, she discovers there are things more terrifying than
ghosts when she learns why Will is digging in the dark, frightening

is a stand-alone Paranormal Romance with a hot hero and a crafty
heroine that will keep you turning the pages to the very end.

.99 cents!!**

Haunted Book 2

to Montgomery Manor, a beautiful Bed & Breakfast complete with
gorgeous guest rooms, a five-star restaurant, and a haunting history
of true love, betrayal, and murder...

soulmates Quint and Meg Falkner inherit moldering Montgomery Manor,
they are in way over their heads. With a bit of faith and strange
push they cannot ignore, they jump head first into bringing the
large, compelling house back to its original grandeur.
something is different...something is...wrong. Quint isn't acting
himself, and Meg keeps seeing visions, images of the past seeping
into her very soul. When Meg becomes the target of a mysterious,
dangerous admirer, her world implodes, leaving her vulnerable to the
otherworldly inhabitants of the house...the very house calling out to
her, its secrets begging to be uncovered.
corridors, echoing darkness, and hidden treasure weave together in
this tale of everlasting love and second chances.
Meg and Quint make a new life for themselves in Montgomery Manor, or
will Montgomery Manor's secrets tear them apart forever?

is a stand-alone Paranormal Romance with a hot hero and a crafty
heroine that will keep you turning the pages to the very end.

.99 cents!!**

Haunted Book 3

past is a mystery. His future is in jeopardy.

the first moment Clare Newman steps into Camden Place—from the
squeak in the floor and the sweet scent of apple pie to the candles
she lights on the dining room table—it feels like home. It's a
place she can find refuge from her nightmares. It’s a place where
she can make a fresh start…
there's a misty figure with a knife who disappears into the
there's Liam Camden, the man who built Camden Place over a century
and a half before, who doesn’t disappear, who seems to be the only
one who can see and talk to Clare.
who is the real ghost? Clare, who somehow found the doorway to 1847?
Or Liam, who died mysteriously one hundred and seventy years
danger creeps closer, will the timeless love they share be enough to
keep them safe?

is a stand-alone Paranormal Romance with a hot hero and a crafty
heroine that will keep you turning the pages to the very end.

.99 cents!!**

Haunted Book 4

it a dream? Or was it real?

visited her at midnight in a dream. He was a stranger yet her lover,
whose touch started a fire in her soul. His passion left her yearning
for more even after she awoke.
the morning light, she discovered him at her door, leaving her to
question just how much of her midnight fantasy had been a dream.
McCoy can’t resist Jake Casperson. Nor can she resist the passion
that flares between them day or night. At the same time, neither of
them can escape the dreams. But the dreams soon become a nightmare
that is overshadowed by something darker…
murder that happened seventy years ago. Two young lovers who share
Kate and Jake’s names.
she believe the dreams? Are they real, shared memories of a love cut
short by murder?
if they are, will history repeat itself and make Kate the next

is a stand-alone Paranormal Romance with a hot hero and a crafty
heroine that will keep you turning the pages to the very end.

.99 cents!!**

Harrison also writes as Allie Quinn. She lives with her husband in
Southern Illinois. When she isn't enjoying fun family time, games
with friends, reading, crafts, music and winemaking, she's working to
build fictional worlds and unforgettable characters.

the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

Book Tour & Giveaway ~ The Daimones Trilogy by Massimo Marino

Daimones Trilogy,Volume 1
Massimo Marino
Science Fiction

your Science Fiction from a CERN Scientist ! Over 1,000 ratings on
combined goodreads and Amazon.

genocide, the Apocalypse.
the future of humanity in Massimo Marino's sci-fi debut, Daimones, an
apocalyptic tale that feels like it could happen tomorrow. You may
never sleep through a windstorm again.

could have prepared them for the last day. Death swept away the lives
of billions, but spared Dan Amenta and his family, leading them to an
uncertain future. When merely surviving isn't enough and the hunt for
answers begins, memories from the past and troubling encounters lead
Dan to the truth about the extermination of the human race.
Distressing revelations will give new meaning to their very

humans shaped the future and seeded a plan millions of years in the
making. Now survivors must choose: Endure a future with no past or
fade away into a past with no future?

Daimones Trilogy, Volume 2

rebirth of the race of man is closely watched, and the Selected, the
transgenic humans created by the Moîrai, guide and care for the
wellbeing of the remaining humans in their various Communities around
the planet.

and security are suddenly shattered with acts of sabotage disrupting
the fragile equilibrium of the growing society. Betrayal, fear, and a
cosmic conspiracy risk sending the planet to the brink of
self-destruction. Will Dan Amenta be able to come to terms with the
logic of alien minds? Who is behind the sabotage and why?

and blind violence walk in the secret alleys and in the depths of the
planet, from the coldest lands to the bottom of the oceans; someone
is at work with an evil agenda dictated by greed and lust for power.
Ancient aliens, a galactic struggle, the control of a unique
resource, meld to dictate the fate of humankind.

Rise of the Phoenix
Daimones Trilogy, Volume 3

is inevitable, and the human race sets out to finally deliver

alien colonization has altered the destiny of the human race forever.
After wiping out billions of people, the race known as the Moîrai
created a new, transgenic species of humans called the Selected --
giving them both the gift and burden of longevity and memories of
human history on another world.

aliens charged the Selected with the responsibility of caring for
"the spared ones," unaltered humans who survived the global
catastrophe. That includes Dan Amenta's daughter Hope, the only
spared one who remains.
Dan and Hope have witnessed Earth transform into a different world,
where a powerful new neurological drug sparks the rapid evolution of
the Selected, but Hope is nearing death. Once she's gone, obligations
die with her, and the path is clear for a chain of events destined to
rip apart the foundations of the galaxy.

Publishing LCC has published Massimo Marino's works up to June 2016
when Booktrope closed its business. Massimo is member of SFWA
(Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America), and a scientist
envisioning science fiction. 

contributed to the experiments at CERN and The Lawrence Berkeley Lab,
then accepted leading positions at Apple, Inc. and at the World
Economic Forum. He is also co-founder of "Squares on Blue"
-- a Big Data Analytics service company -- and of "BookGarage"
-- a publishing services brokerage firm.

currently lives in France and crosses the border with Switzerland
multiple times daily, although he's no smuggler. He went from
smashing particles at the largest accelerators in the world, to
smashing words on the most popular laptop in the world.

the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

Virtual Book Tour & Giveaway ~ Simultaneous Meltdown by Robert Downs

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Date Published: 11/17/2018
Publisher: Black Opal Books

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Lynette Sommer ends her carefully calculated PowerPoint presentation in the Hancock Tower with a pink slip shoved across her desk and a standing order to vacate the premises immediately. Richard Lancaster, III, races through The Pru with a tie stuffed down the front of his khakis and an overzealous security guard hot on his trail. At the Boston Public Library, Carl Razer finds himself in the midst of a manic encounter from a teenage book enthusiast who has let the glitter and glamor of Twilight destroy what is left of his brain cells. And then it gets progressively worse, as three homegrown terrorists—Matthew, Mark, and John—destroy three vital Boston landmarks—The Hancock Tower, the Pru, and the Boston Public Library—with the drop of a backpack and the flick of a switch…

Chapter 1

ynette Sommer stood before a sea of familiar faces. Male faces. Each one had turned his attention directly toward her. She clicked through the PowerPoint slides, each one culminating, building on the one before it. Most of the eyes were glazed over, or at least turned in the opposite direction. Hunched over bodies covered leather seats. A few yawns filled the crowd. No hands shot up to stop her, but not a soul seemed intrigued by what she had to say. Even her boss, sitting at the head of the table who had seemed to support her and told her she was a star pupil within the firm, seemed to have backed off. Of course, he hadn’t seen her presentation ahead of time. No pre-brief. She had given him some of the finer points and run a few ideas by him before she delved in and sprinted toward the finish.

She still had a dozen slides to go, and more than twenty minutes left in her presentation. The seconds ticked by on a clock at the opposite end of the room.

Cold air pumped through the floor, and she shivered. Lynette gripped the remote in her hand tighter, emphasized a few pertinent points, and then walked to the other side of the screen, careful to avoid the projector light. Her wool skirt rubbed her thighs as she walked. The conference table was long and black, nearly the full size of the room, and the leather chairs swiveled. The men’s eyes focused on empty notepads, or on the reception area behind the glass wall. The glass reflected multiple smartphones.

She didn’t like losing.

She’d lost before: softball games and soccer matches. Lynette left it all on the field, sprinting toward the net or around the bases, her arms like pistons at her sides. She’d always been quick, a natural runner. The track coach had tried to recruit her, after watching her sprint around the soccer field like a tornado searching for land. But her heart lived in fields of green and seas of dirt, square white bags and wide nets, in polyester shorts and shirts.

The faces in front of her now, though, felt dirty, used up. The men cold and dead, lines and creases fully formed on their faces with mouths closed in silent trepidation. The one at the head of the table scrolled through his phone with the flick of his index finger.

She’d practiced the presentation over and over, used a mirror, and whatever else she could think of, as she hit the high points and skirted past the low ones. She’d gone over the finer details of the slides, point by point, with her head held high and her mouth opened wide. Yet, she didn’t feel at ease. Instead, Lynette felt tightly wound, on edge, the carpet nearly catching a heel, her lips nearly numb, and her face almost there as well. The air shot up through the vents and smacked her face with each turn of her heel. She’d given presentations in this conference room for literally four years, and each had gone better than this calamity. She’d seen faces turned up toward her, eager faces, happy, with a smile of encouragement here, or a polite nod there. But not now. Now she felt as though there were seventeen guns pointed in her direction, and all she needed was one itchy trigger finger.

Sweat cascaded down her fingers and smacked the blue carpet. Lynette clicked to the next slide.
“This company is hiding money, plain and simple, gentlemen. It’s cooking the books to deliver consistently successful quarters. Each quarter one to three cents ahead of projections. And it’s fraud. Hidden beneath these numbers is another Enron or Worldcom. A disaster awaiting the right financial auditor. When this one tanks, you don’t want to be floundering for one of the life rafts.”
She’d shown them charts, numbers, and graphs to back up her data. A specific line on Xanthic’s balance sheet and income statement—the same line, in fact—was off each time. She wasn’t sure how anyone could have missed it. It had taken her less than a day to discover the error of Xanthic’s ways. The executives were slick and polished and aided by slippery politicians with fat bank accounts and college mistresses, salesmen who talked one game and delivered another. Instead of running a company, they should have been running for office. Congress. A place where golden parachutes were passed around like umbrellas before a spring rain.

Not being able to account for every dollar bothered her. Having the trail of gold shoved right under her nose made her fists clench and her heart race.

“Thank you, Lynette.”

“But I’m not finished. I have—”

Her boss bowed his head. “You most certainly are.”


He’d seen the tie in a Bergdorf’s catalog. Not this exact same tie but similar. It had a slightly different hue, but the pattern and colors were the same. He’d walked through the Pru looking for the perfect tie, waiting for his wife who was with her friends, and most likely garnering her own slice of turtle cheesecake rather than sharing, her small fork poised over the smattering of whipped cream and caramel. But he couldn’t blame her. Richard Lancaster III had a mouth full of sweet teeth.

His hand stroked the fabric, rubbing it up and down, lovingly like a dog named Bud. Not that he’d ever had a dog named Bud, or even owned a dog for that matter. He was allergic. Damn near blew away his nostrils every time one of those furry beasts pranced next to him, or stuffed its soft face in his crotch. Still, it hadn’t prevented him from petting every dog he saw and sneezing all over both hands and several T-shirts.

He did have trouble staying on point. That’s what his last evaluation had said. He hated his boss, the evil little man with the twitchy eye, a short man with a big personality and a large mole at the end of his nose that always said hello before he did. He might as well have been Rudolph, his boss, although the man probably wasn’t as smart or as surefooted as the furry reindeer. Not as smart as the tie was.
It stared at him, longingly, like some girlfriend he could no longer name. Like some college party he had attended years ago, where the festivities and women and booze ran together to the point that he could no longer separate one from another when he worshipped bikini tops and round bottoms. But he could still dream about drunk girls, keg stands, secondhand smoke, and eyes the size of paper plates from the marijuana intake.

He’d always had trouble with his eyes. He’d needed glasses for what was most of his natural life. That’s what he’d always told people. Bad eyes, bad teeth, and chubby hands. Of course, his candy habit attributed to the bad teeth, or what he liked to refer to as his lack of self-control. When bits of chocolate stained his lips, he thought he’d pass out from the sheer ecstasy of it. That’s what this tie was. Pure ecstasy. Sure, it wasn’t the original version, but it was a damn good second-place finisher, and he had just the spot for it in his closet.

Richard looked over his shoulder and then peered up into the corners. This was supposed to be some midrange store, and there wasn’t a clerk in sight, except for one behind the counter, but he engaged in some conversation with a chatty gal with a too-wide smile and exaggerated movements that bordered on eccentric. Her clothes further enhanced her eccentricity with loud colors, mismatched between her top and bottom. Her hands shot out in one direction, and then another, almost as if her arms were no longer a part of her body. She ran her hand through her hair too many times, and she liked to wiggle her ass whenever the mood suited her, which was about every six seconds. She had a nice ass, sure, but she didn’t need to flaunt it like some half-crazed Loony Tune. Her laugh resembled a hyena’s.

He hadn’t been helped. Not at all. And what he could really use right now was assistance and a second opinion. His wife told him he had a problem pulling the trigger. That he just needed to make a decision, instead of dancing around the subject, and analyzing every shopping outcome for fifteen minutes. She wasn’t going to be around for another forty minutes, if memory served him correctly.

Richard didn’t just want the tie: He needed it.

The other clerk remained in the back. He’d wandered in that direction ten minutes ago, doing God knows what. Or maybe the more accurate analogy was to God knows whom. Since a female of undetermined beauty—he couldn’t see her face, although she was another one with a nice rear end—followed him back there about a minute later and neither managed to reappear. She tried to be discreet about it, but she might as well have had a sign floating on top of her head, or some halo painted in black—certainly not a golden one—and held together with Scotch tape. She walked with nothing short of determination, her steps quick and forceful, and she hadn’t bothered to look back. Not once. To get to the back room, she had to walk across the entire store, circumnavigating racks, with other men around herded in small groups of one or two staring at this shirt or that pair of pants. But the herds weren’t there now, probably because neither clerk bothered to do a thing called work, and so they had left while Richard remained. It might as well have been a bar, or some game show called, Spot the Pretty Girl with the Nice Caboose.


Carl Razer had walked up and down these same aisles for five years. Narrow aisles. Some might even say cramped. Books of all sizes lined the shelves. Enough books to last a lifetime, even if you were an avid reader, which he was. He devoured books the way an alcoholic might devour cocktails in one of his weaker moments, with a girl on his arm and a glass in his hand. His hands shook with anticipation, from the sheer number of books and brightly-colored spines, and he pushed his cart in front of him. It, too, was stacked with books, and damn close to overflowing.
The pay wasn’t great (although the hours were), and if it wasn’t for sharing an apartment (or in this case a room the size of a closet in downtown Boston), there was no way he could afford the rent. As it was, Carl was nearly behind, every month. But the joy of books, and the sea of customers—all ages, shapes, sizes, and races—that traipsed through the Boston Public Library made it worthwhile, and made his days run together. Not having a car certainly made things easier. It was a beautiful thing, the freedom. Walking whenever and wherever he wanted, taking the T to Harvard Square or Porter, or out on the Green Line to Brookline. Boston and its immediate suburbs were at his disposal, as long as he had a plan and his Charlie Card.

Boston was one of the few cities left where a person didn’t need to own a car. He’d die in this walkable city, in his hole-in-the-wall apartment, where traffic noise often kept him up at night, or put him to sleep, with honking horns and sirens and screeching tires throughout the night and into the dawn. But at least Boston slept. He’d visited the city that never sleeps, where the bums ran free, and he’d decided it was not meant to be, after some errant field trip for some undetermined amount of time. Boston proved comfortable for him. He’d grown up here, still had a number of high school friends in the area, and he’d even bumped into Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner—not at the same time.

He’d talked about the weather, the Sox, and whatever else crossed his mind for the couple minutes that he was in line. Not until later, after the clerk had a look of surprise painted on his face, did he realize that he had just spoken with a genuine celebrity and one-half of a powerful couple.

That’s who he dealt with now. Another powerful couple. The two had come out of nowhere, all legs and arms and sour expressions, with their heads tilted and their lips moving in unison and their hands jerking in an indeterminate pattern. Their eyes flittered around before settling on Carl, and his books: the cart wheels squeaking, the stack of books wobbling, his grip tightening. The two barreled toward him like two moving trucks in the middle of the downtown tunnel. He barely even had enough time to blink.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, you most certainly can,” the male said. “Where is the Twilight series?”

Carl removed his hands from the cart. “It’s currently checked out. Would you like to add your name to the waiting list?”

“What do you mean it’s checked out? You haven’t even looked it up on the computer.”

“I don’t need to look it up on the computer, sir.” The last word left his lips before he could stop it, even though the kid wasn’t a day over seventeen.

“Don’t call me sir,” the kid said. “Maybe you should check again.”

The girl snickered and then smacked her lips.

“I checked about half an hour ago for another customer,” Carl said.

“Well, I’d like for you to check now.” The kid turned and pointed his hand in every direction but the information desk. “What are you waiting for?”

A million thoughts flowed through Carl’s head. The most prominent of which being that these two should have been in school. That some teacher in some Boston public school missed the two of them, although the tall blond one was probably missed a bit less than the pixie-haired brunette with the full lips.

Richard Lancaster III breathed in and out, deeply, using his diaphragm. He’d learned the breathing technique through a yoga instructor, or ex-girlfriend, or an ex-girlfriend who just happened to be a yoga instructor. He’d stood around, maybe a bit too openly, and certainly a bit less naturally with his shoulders slumped slightly. Despite staring from afar at the tedious mating ritual and hovering ten feet away for approximately five minutes, he didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. One clerk was still in the back, probably snogging with the dark-haired girl with the round bottom, and the other one still chatted away with a nonpaying customer like it was open mike night at Mickey’s.

The breathing thing didn’t help. He didn’t want to close his eyes, just in case he fell asleep standing up, which had happened to him once before. He took one last look over his shoulder, noticed that no one seemed to be paying attention to him—not the least bit surprising—not even the girl on the other side of the counter—standing next to her conquest even as her right hand dipped below the counter’s depths—who flirted rather openly with the less-than-friendly clerk with the long hair and squinty eyes. One more glance confirmed what he needed to know: He could bring in a jackhammer and no one would notice.

With a quick jerk of his hand, he swiped the tie from the open drawer.

Darting in the general direction of the main entrance, Richard Lancaster III took a slight detour around an elderly gentleman who strode through the threshold. Before he’d even hit the other side of the entrance, the alarm sounded in a monotone voice, mentioning that he should return to the counter, and something about a clerical error. The only error was the clerk who now looked up, eyes wide, forgetting the girl next to him, and the passionate exchange that had grown more and more animated.

“What the hell—” the kid yelled.

He skipped right over the whole motto about the customer always comes first, and he extracted himself from behind the counter and raised his voice when his first set of instructions didn’t take hold. But Richard was already in motion, running away from the crazy clerk who didn’t bother to pay attention earlier, but who now had an intense interest in the goings-on around him, and who moved about as well as an eel on dry land.

While the little shit slipped, Richard sprinted. He ran all out with his arms pumping at his sides, the tie carefully stuffed down the front of his trousers, and bouncing around like a Miracle-Gro plant, juking and jiving with each twist of his hip.

“Hey, you—”

The kid continued yelling, his voice and intonation nasally, and a bunch of other people joined in. Richard couldn’t hear over the general uproar, the folks squawking on cell phones, the teenagers without inside voices talking and chattering over one another, and the voice inside of his head that helped him maneuver around the ever-curious crowd with open mouths.

A smaller kid—not the one who didn’t bother to pay attention, but a smaller version of the space-cadet employee—dove at his feet like he was sliding into second base just ahead of the throw of the catcher, and Richard went down hard against the tile. His hip struck home, and then his thigh and his side ached and screamed, or maybe it was the mom next to him who yelled loud enough to break glass.

Richard shoved both palms on the ground and bounced back up, both knees aching and his heart racing, slipped in between a crowd of soccer moms eight deep and three wide—not that he counted—who chattered and waved and pushed strollers. He elbowed one, three elbowed him, and then he passed through the melee and rushed around a corner.

He didn’t even bother to look behind him.

About the Author

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Robert Downs aspired to be a writer before he realized how difficult the writing process was. Fortunately, he’d already fallen in love with the craft, otherwise, his tales might never have seen print. Originally from West Virginia, he has lived in Virginia, Massachusetts, New Mexico, California, and now resides in Colorado. When he’s not writing, Downs can be found reading, watching movies, traveling, or smiling. To find out more about his latest projects, or to reach out to him on the Internet, visit the author’s website:

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RABT Book Tours & PR

Release Blitz ~ Immortal Desires Box Set

Title: Immortal Desires
Author: Multi-Authors
Genre: Adult Paranormal Romance
Publication Date: February 26th, 2019
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR

Immortals last all night…
So do their desires…
Dive into this wickedly sexy boxed set, packed with thrilling and steamy romances from some of your favorite New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon Bestsellers.
We’ve brought the heat with paranormal bad boys who will leave you begging for more. If you love vampires, dragons, shifters, ghosts, and other hotties that go bump in the night, this is a limited time charity boxed set you don’t want to miss out on!

Buy Link:

Participating Authors:
Melanie James
Lia Davis
A.K Michaels
Madison Sevier
Heather Hildenbrand
Rebecca Rivard
Bella Roccaforte
Monica La Porta
Jennifer Theriot
Susan Griscom
N.L. Hoffmann
Nicole Garcia
S. J. Pierce
CJ Hartnett
Casey Hagen
D.J. Bryce
Cora A. Murray
Christina Escue
Buy Link:

Book Blitz ~ Future World Rolls! by Terry Tumbler

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We Are Family
Carousels of Life, Book Two

Space Opera
Published: September 2018
Publisher: Sombrella

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This Space Opera is set to Rock n’ Roll and classical music, many of the songs being entirely original and composed by the author.

It starts in the mid-20th century with two talented FBI Special Agents being tasked with recruiting people to undertake a really unusual mission. In the process, they are themselves abducted to take a leading role in that mission, which is intended to save the human race from alien conquest.

It involves time travel into the future, as they lead their hostile hunters on a merry chase across the centuries. They have the full support of other sympathetic races in their imaginative survival techniques, allowing them to go on the offensive.

The characters within embark on a series of adventures that are truly moving in their significance. Based initially on our own Planet Earth, the story employs reported alien sightings and events.

Future World ROLLS to its very core!

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Other books in the Carousels of Life Space Opera Series

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Going Back To Our Roots
Carousels of Life, Book One
Published: August 2017

This story contains interwoven strands that are brought together as events unfold.

The first focuses on the aftermath of Nazi research into UFO based systems. Primarily it concerns a flying time travel craft called the ‘Bell’ and its disappearance after those early days when the U.S.A. took over its research.

The second occurs in the future, when alien refugees seek asylum with us on our planet. They come from a planet destroyed by one of its own moons and have wandered the stars, looking for a place to stay.

Soon they are introducing us to other beings, secretly living under the surface of the planet and mining the moon. Naturally, whodunit problems arise for our crime detection agents to resolve.

All this occurs to a backdrop of Rock n’ Roll music, as Future World rocks to its core!

About the Author

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The author, writing under the pseudonym Terry Tumbler, was born in the 1940s in the small province of Wales, in not-as-‘Great’-as-it-once-was Britain. The adjoining photo of the real author has been air-brushed, so that the possibility of anyone stumbling upon his true identity will not disturb him, also believing that no one who reads his first book can possibly recognise him from the long gone days of his childhood. The first book, The Rough and Tumbles of Early Life, as you may be aware, is an accurate recollection of key events that occurred in his early life.  Others of a similar, warped humour and semi-fictional nature have been produced and are being published.

The author left full-time education with a higher level certificate in Business Studies, had a Commercial Apprenticeship in the Titanium Industry, and subsequently gained professional qualifications in Personnel Management and as a Company Secretary. He worked in all aspects of computing for over thirty years, during which time many reports of dubious value and two technical manuals were well-written and printed.

Now retired, and a few months after moving abroad, the author was bemused to find his dear wife sitting alone on her tilting armchair weeping; the reason she gave was shock and horror at the prospect of spending her remaining years with him. Since then, he has done his best to behave himself, but she has still taken out a funeral plan on him. They have three grandchildren, none of whom much like to be with him for more than two weeks.

Those who may wish to inflict retribution for his innocently evil behaviour as a child, may well see through the flimsy disguise, but should know that the author now lives on alien shores and cares not one jot for their intentions.

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