Sunday, August 31, 2025

Book Blitz ~ The Unlikely Spare - Unlikely Dilemmas by Jax Calder

 

The Unlikely Spare
Jax Calder
(Unlikely Dilemmas, #3)
Publication date: August 22nd 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance, Suspense

What happens when a prince falls for the undercover agent pretending to be his bodyguard?

Nicholas
I’m the spare, the younger brother of the Prince of Wales. Ever since I was propelled up the order of succession, my job description has been: Exist. Don’t embarrass the Crown. Repeat.

After a security scandal, I’m assigned a new bodyguard. A hulking, brooding Irishman who glowers at me like I’ve personally offended his ancestors. He’s the first to be completely immune to my charm, which is rather inconvenient when you’ve always wielded wit like a defensive weapon.

And why I feel the need to continue trying to impress Officer O’Connell is anyone’s guess.

My upcoming royal tour of Australia and New Zealand should be a nice chance to escape the British winter and bask in some Southern Hemisphere sunshine. But it turns out that representing the monarchy in former colonial countries means confronting some uncomfortable truths about how all those Crown Jewels ended up in my family’s vaults.

And the whole visit would really be far more enjoyable if someone wasn’t trying to kill me.

Eoin
I’ve clawed my way from the slums of Ireland to the top level of Scotland Yard’s undercover agents. But a deep security breach within the force has me investigating my own colleagues while playing bodyguard to a privileged prince on a tour Down Under.

Something about Prince Nicholas gets under my skin like shrapnel I can’t dig out.

Still, I’m a professional. I can handle one posh git with a smart mouth.

But as we navigate koala cuddling sessions, didgeridoo lessons, and deadly spiders in hotel rooms, I see beneath Nicholas’s princely façade. I’m supposed to uncover which of my fellow bodyguards is a threat to Prince Nicholas, not become obsessed with the most complex, fascinating pain in my arse I’ve ever met.

The line between duty and desire blurs with each passing day and the danger to Nicholas intensifies.

How can I maintain my cover, protect Nicholas, and resist the urge to press him against the nearest wall and kiss that smirk off his face?

The Unlikely Spare is a royal romantic comedy/suspense featuring a party prince learning his place in the world and an undercover bodyguard with a chip on his shoulder. As threats escalate and attraction intensifies, both men must decide what they’re willing to risk—and what they’re willing to fight for.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

A violent rustling erupts from a nearby thicket, and something bursts upward in an explosion of noise and movement, heading directly toward Nicholas’s face.

My training kicks in. Movement equals threat, threat equals action.

I launch forward, tackling Nicholas sideways. We hit the ground hard, my body curving protectively over his. One of my arms cradles the back of his head, preventing it from cracking against the frozen earth while my torso shields his. My free hand reaches instinctively for my weapon.

Only then do I register wings beating frantically above us.

Fuck.

Nicholas lies perfectly still beneath me, those winter-ocean eyes wide with shock. My face hovers inches from his, close enough to count individual eyelashes. His breath comes in short puffs, visible in the cold air between us.

For a few heartbeats, we simply stare at each other.

“That,” Nicholas says finally, voice strained, “was a partridge. Not an assassin.”

I’m suddenly acutely aware of every point where our bodies connect. My chest against his, my leg between his thighs, my hand still cradling his head.

His hair is soft, dark silk under my calloused palms. The scent of his cologne fills my nostrils, something crisp and woodsy. His pupils have dilated, black nearly swallowing that impossible blue.

His lips part, just a fraction, and fuck if I don’t track the movement like it matters.

Heat spreads from every point where we’re pressed together. A flush crawls up his neck. I know I should look away, but I can’t.

Why the hell can’t I drag my eyes away from this man’s face?

The dogs are circling us, the yellow retriever licking enthusiastically at Nicholas’s ear.

“I’d really appreciate it,” Nicholas continues in an icy tone, “if you could remove your elbow from my spleen.”

Fuck. I roll away from him, my knee sinking into the frozen mud with a squelch as I get to my feet.

Nicholas remains splayed on the ground, leaves tangled in his dark hair, a smudge of dirt across his cheek.

“We must stop this little trend of finding ourselves in compromising positions,” he says as he pushes himself up on his elbows. “At this rate, I’ll need to start charging you rent for all the time you spend in my personal space.”

He reaches up a hand imperiously.

Author Bio:

Jax's stories are all about light-hearted conversations and deeply-felt connections. She loves exploring exactly why two characters are the only ones who’ll make the other truly happy, and the journey they take to reach their happily-ever-after.

Jax lives in New Zealand and is a rabid sports fan, a hiking enthusiast and has a slightly unhealthy addiction to nature documentaries. As an extrovert who spends way too much time in her own head, she loves to connect with readers. Join her Facebook group Jax's Crew (www.facebook.com/groups/jaxcaldercrew) for bonus stories plus exclusive excerpts from her upcoming books.

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The Unlikely Spare Blitz


Release Blitz ~ Realm of Crows - Wings of Ink by Angelina J. Steffort

 

 

Title: Realm of Crows (Wings of Ink, 5)

Author: Angelina J. Steffort

Genre: NA Fantasy Romance

Cover Designer: Fantastical Ink

Publication Date: August 31st, 2025

Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR


Blurb:
“You know I will devour you, Ayna.”
Ayna has escaped Ephegos’s claws—but war is far from over.
As the rebel forces rise and the King of Tavras readies weapons that could shatter the fairylands, the battle for Askarea begins to burn. Crows and fairies alone won’t be enough to hold back the storm. And with ancient bargains unraveling and magic twisting loyalty into chains, not every ally will be free to stand beside their queen.
To save both her kingdoms, Ayna must do the impossible: unite fractured realms, survive betrayal, and outwit a tyrant with nothing left to lose. But as war threatens to consume the world she’s sworn to protect, one truth becomes clear—power always demands a price.
And this time, the cost may be everything.
Realm of Crows is the heart-racing finale to the bestselling high-stakes, heart-break epic romantasy Wings of Ink series—perfect for fans of Quicksilver, From Blood and Ash, and A Court of Thorns and Roses.
This series is part of the ALCUNAIRE.

NOW LIVE!

 


"Chocolate fanatic, milk-foam enthusiast and huge friend of the southern sting-ray. Writing is an unexpected career-path for me."

Angelina J. Steffort is an Austrian novelist, best known for her Wings Trilogy, a young adult paranormal romance series about the impossible love between a girl and an angel. The bestselling Wings Trilogy has been ranked among calibers such as the Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer, The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare, and Lauren Kate’s Fallen, and has been top listed among angel books for teens by bloggers and readers. Her young adult fantasy series Shattered Kingdom is already being compared to Sarah J. Maas’s Throne of Glass series by readers and fans.

Angelina has multiple educational backgrounds including engineering, business, music, and acting, and lives in Vienna, Austria with her husband and her son.

 

Author Links:

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Book Blitz ~ Checking Mr. Wrong - Love in Maple Falls by Anne Kemp

 

Checking Mr. Wrong
Anne Kemp
(Love in Maple Falls)
Publication date: August 27th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance, Sports

She’s a grump with a grudge. He’s a sweetheart with a slapshot. Sparks were expected, but the fireworks? Pure magic.

Mabel
Returning to Maple Falls wasn’t part of my five-year plan—or my backup plan. Or any plan, really. But here I am, back in my quirky hometown, dodging my mother’s judgment and trying not to cringe every time someone mentions the viral moment. (Yes, that one. No, I don’t want to talk about it.)

When my editor sends me to cover the NHL’s shiny new team, the Ice Breakers, I’m all in—until I meet Asher Tremblay. He’s their too-charming defenseman with a knack for wrecking my focus and my sanity. Equal parts infuriating and irresistible, but falling for him? Not on my agenda. Nope.

Asher
I’ve worked my whole life to make it in the NHL. A new team means a fresh start, and I won’t let anything distract me—least of all a snarky reporter who seems determined to hate me on sight.

But the more I see Mabel, the more I want to know what’s behind her walls. She’s fire and chaos, and I’ve spent my whole life playing it safe. Maybe she’s exactly what I need. I came to Maple Falls to chase my dream, but now all I want is her.

***

Checking Mr. Wrong is part of the Love in Maple Falls sweet hockey romcom multi-author series. It’s a grumpy sunshine story with forced proximity in this small town romance with all the sizzle and chemistry, but none of the spice.

Welcome back to Maple Falls—the small town where hockey players fall in love! This is a multi-author series of seven full-length books that could be read as standalones, but we think you’ll enjoy them best in order.

Fake-Off with Fate by Whitney Dineen
Offside and Off-Limits by Kate O’Keeffe
Checking Mr. Wrong by Anne Kemp
Skating and Fake Dating by Ellie Hall
Goalie and the Girl Next Door by Elsie Woods
Soulmates and Slapshots by Melissa Baldwin
The Icing on the Cake by Grace Worthington

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Asher’s POV

“I’m Asher,” I say with a nod, hoping she’ll come to understand that I am not a foe. Not a friend either, yet, but definitely not a foe.

She eyes me, looking at me as if she half expects me to grab her purse and toss it out the window. “Mabel.”

“Nice to meet you, Mabel. You from here?”

She nods. “Born and raised in Maple Falls.”

She still watches me while I take a pause. The tiniest of jokes pops up like a cartoon bubble over my head. “Wait. You’re Mabel. From Maple Falls?”

“I know where this is headed, and you’re not funny,” she retorts dryly as she shoots another glare my way.

“Is your last name ‘Syrup’?” I ask innocently as Joe does me a solid and cracks up from the front seat. “That would be hilarious.”

Even when she glares, it’s kinda sexy. I keep her pinned in my line of sight as I’m hit with a subtle wave of recognition. “Do we know each other from—”

“Nope,” she interjects, looking at me pointedly and still chomping on her ice. The way she gnashes away on it is like she’s mad at the ice and rage-crunching, but who knows.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“How rude of me. Please, finish your thoughts,” she says as her lips form a tight thin line.

“I will.” Little does my new friend know, but I like the challenge of a sassy woman. “I was going to say that I know you from somewhere.”

“I doubt it.”

But I can’t shake it. “I think we must have met before.”

She snaps her head my way and stares at me. This is the second I truly notice her eyes—the kind of green that belongs in legends and treasure chests, brighter and more striking than any emerald I’ve ever seen. “I doubt it.”

“Okay,” I say, keeping my focus on her. “Well, when I remember how I know you, I’ll tell you.”

“Sounds like a plan. DM me,” she says with sarcasm oozing off each letter, and plastering on a fake smile that would make a Ringling Brothers clown cringe. She tips her cup back and tosses more ice into her mouth, chomping down on it as she puts her back toward me and faces the window again. I’m still listening to the crunch of her ice when she suddenly stops.

“Oh, ow!” Mabel drops her cup in between her feet, what’s left of the ice spilling on the mat, as she holds her hand to her mouth. “Oh, no, no, no. No!”

“All good back there?” Joe asks from the front.

Mabel looks at me with fear in her eyes as she nods. “Uh-huh. All good,” she mumbles, sounding like she’s shoved a tissue in her mouth.

I give it a beat. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I can see her moving her mouth around as she stares at the back of the seat in front of her. From my spot, I can tell that her eyes are a little wild; she looks like a three-legged snake just ran in front of the car.

“I think,” she whispers, running her tongue over her front teeth. “I think I’ve chipped my front tooth.”

“Let me see.” She shakes her head, so I do my best to make her feel comfortable. I mean, it’s what I do. My dad said I’m the most people-pleasing of all the Tremblays, so I need to keep my reputation. “If you let me look, I can tell you how bad it is. I play hockey, so having a tooth chipped or getting one knocked out is par for the course.” I point to my two front teeth. “These aren’t even mine. I lost them both in the first game I played in college. If you want, I can also pop my bridge out for you, it’s back here…”

She holds up a hand, genuine worry etched on her face. “No, thank you.”

“So, give me a smile.” I lean over to her. “I promise I won’t laugh. But I can tell you how fast you need to make a dental appointment when you get to Maple Falls.”

It feels like it takes more than ten minutes to coax her, but she finally rewards me with a teeny-tiny, kinda toothy grin. I say kinda toothy because yes, part of her front tooth is for sure missing and the woman needs more than a chiclet shoved in there to make it all better.

“Is it bad?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, like she’s bracing for a hurricane of bad news.

“It’s…” I pause, searching for the right words. What do you tell someone you’ve just met who is obviously not thrilled about losing half a tooth? “It’s not bad, but it’s not great either.”

Her face crumples like I just confessed that I let her puppy run away. “Why,” she groans, pressing her lips closed and throwing herself against the back of the seat. Her head tips back dramatically, like she’s auditioning for a soap opera. “No, I do not need this right now.”

I bite back a grin, because this? This is comedy gold. I mean, it’s not funny for her, but watching someone overreact to a chipped tooth like it’s the end of the world? Hard not to find the humor.

“Nobody’s even going to notice,” I say, trying to sound sincere but probably failing. “You’ll be in Maple Falls, and everyone’s too busy looking at the trees and drinking cider to care about your teeth.”


Author Bio:

Anne Kemp is a bestselling author of romantic comedies. She loves reading (and she does it ridiculously fast, too!), gluten-free baking (because everyone needs a hobby that makes them crazy), and finding time to binge-watch her favorite shows. She grew up in Maryland but made Los Angeles her home until she encountered her own real-life meet-cute at a friend's wedding where she ended up married to one of the groomsmen. For real.

Anne now lives on the Kapiti Coast in New Zealand, and even though she was married at Mt. Doom, no…she doesn’t have a Hobbit. However, she and her husband do have a terrier named George Clooney and when she’s not writing, she’s usually with them taking a long walk on the river by their home.

You can find Anne on her website - come say hi! She’d love to hear from you: www.annekemp.com

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Checking Mr. Wrong Blitz


Monday, August 25, 2025

Audiobook Tour ~ Where Eagles Nest - The Second Wave of Pioneers by Helen F. Wand

 

 


Historical Fiction

Date Published: August 20, 2024

Publisher: Luminare Press

Narrator: Carolyn Wand Eslick

Run Time: 8 hours, 13 minutes

 

Where Eagles Nest chronicles a young couple, Alex and Julianna Lampert, as they immigrate from Lichtenstein, in search of land where they can raise a family and participate in the American dream. The young newlyweds eventually settle in the rugged hills and pasturelands above the Sandy River in Oregon, where they forge a life of love and pursue their quest for prosperity in spite of the struggle in the wild terrain of the Pacific Northwest in the 1880s. —Sharon Nesbit, writer and historian, author of It Could’ve Been Carpdale.

 



About the Author


Helen Wand was raised in the rugged hills of Oregon's Columbia River Gorge. A child of a large Catholic family, she has fearlessly trespassed into the lives of her immigrant ancestors who first settled at the west end of the Gorge. Her writing places the reader by their side as they raise and feed a large brood of children, build a farm, and ultimately, a community. Those who see the neat farms and green fields of Multnomah County, east of the Sandy River, will get a sense of how they began and the challenges they faced along the way.

 

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Sunday, August 24, 2025

Book Tour ~ Dance of Demons Poison and Opium: Act I by Alissa Lauseng

 

 


Poison and Opium, book 1


Dark Fantasy/LGBTQ+

Date Published: 03-26-2025

Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing




Content Warnings: Depictions of slavery, Depictions of child abuse, Blood, Death, Animal death, Self-harm, Drinking, Smoking, Drug use


Slave. Soldier. Spy.

Daisuke’s heart has always wandered far from home, hoping for a life beyond what he’d have as a Northern Nomad raised in slavery. One evening, when he learns the Giahatio’s imperial military has arrived in search of recruits, he seizes his chance to flee Okara’s plantations and start anew. However, becoming a footsoldier isn’t the easy escape he expected, and he soon finds himself struggling for a place within the infantry and Giahatian society.

Obito knows he should be grateful for the opportunity to serve as one of the Empire’s elite intelligence operatives, the onmitsu—it’s one of few he’ll ever have in life, and the highest possible honor for a nobleman’s youngest son. But with demons of anger and shame haunting him as he tries to pick up the pieces in the aftermath of a scandal, any pride to take in rank or family name is entirely hollow.

When an act of mercy is born from a senseless murder, the already unlikely friendship between Daisuke and Obito takes an unexpected turn. Not only are they now partnered together as onmitsu, but dark politics are on the rise, leading them toward an ancient, furious magic.

 

After a while of aimlessly wandering, Daisuke found himself on the ringside of an enchanting acrobatic performance. They flipped, stretched, and bent their bodies in seemingly impossible ways on the tatami mats they’d put down to prevent their performers from freezing. They wore all-black clothing with bone-white masks covering their faces, symbolizing the dance of balance between dark and light, the small space of existence in which Hikari could grant human life. Drums and flutes played, synchronizing everything to a beat, as their matron stood near the tent with a commanding presence, dressed in a kimono and mask to match her performers with another woman in a pale blue kimono at her side. He marveled at the challenging work one had to put themselves through to achieve such mastery of movement and balance. When the show finished, Daisuke instantly dug around in his cloak for whatever coins he had—primarily coppers, typical for someone still in basic training—and dropped a few of them into a large, glazed ceramic teal bowl on a small platform near their tent. Alerted by the clinking sound of coins in their collection pot, the matron winked at him from under her mask, followed by a giggle from her companion, before both women turned away again.

His vision went black when he stepped back to see if they’d planned an encore. 

“There you are, little silk-spinner.” 

Junpei. What other fuck would bother? The woolen cloth itched at Daisuke’s eyes and any skin it touched. He heard Junpei’s lackeys snicker and jeer indistinguishably and could feel the rest of them closing in as the bulkier boy forced him to hold still. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Daisuke grumbled, uselessly attempting to turn his head to glare. 

“It’s festival night—we’re just looking to have some fun, aren’t we?” Another round of obnoxious taunts agreed with Junpei’s statement. Someone grabbed Daisuke by the arms; he felt their breath on his face. Quite unfortunately, he could smell it, too. It was like having his head dunked into a tankard of ale. 

Great. Fucking great. Who the hell was stupid enough to buy alcohol for these morons, anyway? Daisuke mentally whined as he simultaneously tried to decide which god he’d pissed off most recently. Junpei was the eldest of the bunch, but being his senior by two years meant he was still too young to drink. He wriggled in another bid to free himself, at the very least hoping to get away from the worst-smelling of the lot, but to no avail. 

“What in Kuro’s Hells do you think you’re doing?” an unfamiliar boy’s voice cut in; Daisuke’s shoulders forcibly jerked back when Junpei startled at being reprimanded. “Basic infantry? Who’s your commanding officer?” 

Junpei tried stuttering out a response, but quickly abandoned the endeavor and shoved his blindfolded victim forward. Daisuke stumbled as he heard the idiots scrambling to get out of sight, which was probably the most brilliant thing they’d done all night. If someone reported them for misbehavior, General Aki would likely revoke his decision to promote any of them whether or not they passed their second evaluations. Just as he didn’t tolerate Daisuke’s smart mouth, he refused to put up with anything he viewed as disrespectful nonsense between his soldiers. He stuck his thumbs under the cloth to get it off his face. 

“Did they hurt you?” the boy asked as he helped peel the makeshift blindfold away from covering his eyes, which he immediately scrubbed with his hands to relieve the irritation. 

“No, I’m fine. I—” A strange, unexpected heat bloomed in Daisuke’s cheeks when he could finally see who came to his rescue, immediately entranced by deep green eyes illuminated by the overhead light of dangling paper lanterns. He cleared his throat and awkwardly took back the scarf when offered. “I’m fine. Thank you for helping.”

“That’s…good.” The other boy looked a little taken aback, too, though Daisuke couldn’t imagine why. He, however, recovered more quickly and smoothly, aided by yet another soldier coming to his rescue; they must’ve been from a patrol unit in the regular infantry.

“The fireworks are about to go off,” the newcomer said with a radiant, genuine smile. “Let’s go find a good spot.”

The first boy looked unimaginably unimpressed at the suggestion, but didn’t have much time to protest before his companion grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him away. Laughing, Daisuke waved at them as they disappeared into the crowds again.

He didn’t fully realize the faint smile still tugging at his lips when a loud boom and crackle sounded from the skies, casting a pink light over the crowded streets as he nearly jumped out of his skin. He searched for the source as a high-pitched whistle filled his ears, which he traced to the sky as another burst of color exploded above him, the green peony glittering in midair for seconds before the sparkles faded into blackness again. However small, the act of kindness still warmed his heart, as did the bliss of an otherwise enjoyable day, so he decided to bask in it while it lasted as he watched the fireworks in peace.

About the Author



Alyssa Lauseng is a married mom of two warrior princesses who lives in Michigan's beautiful Upper Peninsula. So much inspiration is drawn from a life-long love of martial arts, the pointy objects she's obsessed with, and the U.P.'s abundant nature.

She can be found on BlueSky and Instagram @5FeetofRedFury, ready to nerd out.


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Saturday, August 23, 2025

Book Blitz ~ Stranger Still by George Ochoa

 

Stranger Still
George Ochoa
Publication date: August 19th 2025
Genres: Adult, Literary Fiction, Thriller

Paul Inster, a brilliant, insane Columbia college student majoring in English with an undisclosed minor in knives, is in love with graduate student, Tracy Iridio. Seeing her in the library every day, he mistakenly believes she is in love with him and that she is a goddess, Teresa. In fact, the two have never met, and she does not know who he is. When, for the first time, he sees her with her boyfriend, classical history professor Larry Post, Paul sets out to destroy Larry via a campaign of terror. As the campaign mounts, Larry, mystified, tries to figure out who is attacking him and why. Through a series of surprises and confusions, the campaign escalates to murder.

Stranger Still is both a thriller and a literary novel, combining suspense and violence with rich language, webs of cultural allusions, and themes of love and madness.

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EXCERPT:

Teresa and I often made love, though never in the flesh. To this day the psychiatrists will scrutinize such a statement as if it meant something other than what it plainly says, as if it were the telltale boil of some rare mental pox that might explain the blood spills photographed by the police. But these doctors do not understand love, optics, metaphysics, error, or even good taste. As far as flesh went, I never touched or even talked to Teresa, not until our moral decline had already begun. Before then, seeing the chaste tables that divided us in the Columbia library less than a decade ago, in the middle years of the 1990s, you might have thought Teresa and I were strangers, that she didn’t know I was alive.

I first saw her early in my junior year, a new female sitting several tables away in the Burgess-Carpenter reading room on the fourth floor of Butler Library. She seemed at first like any other of the pretty women on campus whom I liked to ogle and who regarded me as if I were invisible. But the more I stared at her, the more she particularly interested me. A pile of books rested near her elbow on the blond pine table, her head bent with rapt attention over her open book. Hazy September sunlight from the tall windows bathed her small breasts in her magenta top, made the white skin of her forearms glow. Her dark-brown hair was long and luxuriant, her neck long, her face shaped like that of a Raphael Madonna. But what captured me most were her eyes—large, sad eyes, ringed with mauve circles as if she hadn’t slept well. Why was she sad? Was there something I could do to make her happier?

We sat like that for a long time, she near the east end of a table in the back, never noticing me, while I shot frequent glances at her from near the west end of the second table from the door. About twenty feet diagonally divided us, too far for me to discern her eye color, though I tried. Finally, she got up, gathering her books into a white canvas tote bag and walking toward the door. As her gangly frame passed me, I gave her eyes a good look and saw they were hazel, flickering elusively under their long lashes from green to brown to gold.

The thought of her big, sad, long-lashed hazel eyes kept me happy for the rest of my day at Columbia. Even when I boarded the downtown Number One train, the first of the three trains that every evening buried me back in Jamaica, Queens, I was still thinking of those eyes. But an hour and fifteen minutes in the subways will discourage anyone. By the time I left the second leg, the D train, for the final and longest leg, the F, my thoughts were turning dark. The train was crowded with smelly, loam-colored laborers imported from faraway continents, and me just one of the horde.

Most students at Columbia boarded, but because my family was poorer than that of the standard Ivy Leaguer, I was a commuter. Combined with my natural tendency toward solitude, this meant I had no friends either on campus or anywhere else. I longed to make contact with someone, anyone, but did not know how. Sometimes I just wanted to pet them—the young secretary sitting before me on the subway in vinyl jacket and glittery eyeliner—to touch her shoulder, her pulsing throat, and say, “I am here. I am lonely. Help me.” Sometimes I wanted to hit them—the goon in the Yankees cap. When I felt particularly desperate, I wanted to stab them. I had knives that would have fit that purpose, but I never took them out of the house.

Author Bio:

George Ochoa’s first novel is the thriller Stranger Still. In addition, he has written or cowritten thirty-five nonfiction books, including The Book of Answers, The Writer’s Guide to Creating a Science Fiction Universe, The American Film Institute Desk Reference, and Deformed and Destructive Beings: The Purpose of Horror Films. His short fiction has been published in North American Review, Eureka Literary Magazine, Eunoia Review, Bangalore Review, and elsewhere. He is also the author of published poems and essays.

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Book Blitz ~ Revelations of His Names by Terrella Omana

 

 


Non-fiction, Christian, Self-help

Date Published: January 4, 2025

 


In Revelations of His Names, Terrella Omaña invites readers to explore the profound significance of God's names throughout Scripture. More than just labels, these names reveal God's character, His promises, and His eternal plan for humanity. From the Old Testament to the New Testament, each name unveils a different aspect of God's nature—His holiness, justice, mercy, and love—offering powerful insights into His relationship with His people.

The ultimate revelation of God's nature is found in the name of Jesus Christ. In Him, all the names of God come together, embodying God's power, love, and redemptive mission. The name of Jesus holds the authority to heal, restore, and transform lives, making it the ultimate source of hope and victory.

This book invites you to deepen your understanding of God's character and His work through the names He revealed in Scripture. It is a journey to rediscover the power of these names and how they can strengthen your faith, enrich your worship, and transform your relationship with God.

 


About the Author


Terrella Omaña is a dynamic and inspiring individual whose life embodies faith, resilience, and ambition. A woman of God, devoted wife, and loving mother, Terrella is deeply committed to her family and her spiritual journey. Born in Fresno and raised in south Sacramento California, she has successfully woven her diverse experiences into a rich tapestry of accomplishments that continue to inspire those around her.

As a proud United States Air Force (USAF) veteran, Terrella’s journey is marked by discipline, determination, and an unwavering commitment to excellence. Her time in the service instilled in her a deep sense of purpose and a desire to lead by example—qualities that resonate throughout her work and personal life.

An accomplished entrepreneur, Terrella has built a thriving career while balancing the demands of motherhood and family life. Her entrepreneurial ventures reflect her passion for empowering others to embrace their potential and create meaningful change in their lives.

As an author, Terrella channels her wisdom and experiences into written works that inspire and uplift. Her books explore themes of faith, perseverance, and personal growth, offering readers practical guidance and heartfelt encouragement. Her unique perspective as a USAF veteran and multifaceted internet personality gives her writing a distinctive voice that resonates with audiences from all walks of life.

Beyond her roles as a wife, mother, and author, Terrella is a well-known public figure and internet personality. Her engaging presence on various platforms has earned her a loyal following, where she shares her insights on faith, family, entrepreneurship, and personal development. Through her candid and authentic storytelling, she has become a beacon of hope and positivity for many.

Terrella’s life is a testament to the power of faith, hard work, and perseverance. Whether she’s writing, mentoring, or sharing her journey online, her mission remains the same: to inspire others to embrace their God-given potential and live purposefully.

When she’s not busy writing or working on her entrepreneurial endeavors, Terrella enjoys spending quality time with her family, exploring her creative passions, and deepening her spiritual journey. Her unwavering faith and heartfelt dedication to helping others make her a true force for good in the world.

Follow Terrella Omaña’s journey and discover her books, where her words come alive with purpose, inspiration, and grace.

 

Purchase Link

Amazon


RABT Book Tours & PR

Friday, August 22, 2025

Release Blitz ~ She of the Shadows - The Darkness Duet by Kerry Williams

 

Title: She of the Shadows
Series: The Darkness Duet, #2
Genre: Dark Romantic Fantasy
Release Date: August 21, 2025
Cover Designer: BookSmith Design

NOW LIVE!

Now an unchecked Fury belonging to neither the land of the living nor the realm of the dead, she must discover the place she truly belongs.

Lovely Timms sold her soul to return to the man she loves. But the time slip between worlds has left the enigmatic Ferryman seared into her very being.
Charged with a mission of vengeance, she becomes a threat to the living world she fought so hard to return to. But the Underworld she left behind is now a city ravaged by wraiths, its devastation blamed on her by the Ferryman who haunts her thoughts. The living world holds everything she once desired, yet the Underworld needs her. Will her heart choose the living—or the dead?

She of the Shadows is the gripping finale to The Darkness Duet, following Daughter of the Drowned. Perfect for fans of Ninth House and Krystal Sutherland, this dark romantic fantasy blends horror, irresistible forced proximity, and the magic of "she falls first, but he falls harder."

Now available!

 (Please add your review here.)



* * *
The Darkness Duet

Book 1
Available now!


Kerry Williams is a UK author based in the heart of England and writer of romantic fantasy novels.  

Copywriter by day, she gets lost in a world of magic at night, either in her writing or in what she reads. Her creative roots were cultivated by the writing of the unforgettable Anne Rice, she also adores the work of Erin Morgenstern, Holly Black, Judy I. Lin, and Rachel Griffin to name a few. These days you will often find her with her nose buried in a romantic fantasy book.

She graduated from Brunel University with a 2:1(hons) in Creative Writing. She is an avid cat lady, die-hard tea drinker, and eternal star gazer. Always known to her family as a daydreamer, she and her young daughter, Ivy, can often be found looking at the moon.

Sign up for Kerry's newsletter HERE.


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Book Tour ~ Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea by Richard Levine

 

Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea by Richard I Levine Banner

LIKE DRIFTWOOD ON THE SALISH SEA

by Richard I Levine

July 14 - August 22, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea by Richard I Levine

A story of undying love, forgiveness, and second chances...

When they met in the fourth grade, it was love at first sight for Mitchell Brody and Jessica Ramirez. He was the freckle-faced kid who stood up for her honor when he silenced the class bully who’d been teasing her because of her accent. She was the new kid whose family moved to San Juan Island, Washington, from San Juan, Puerto Rico, and whom Mitch had thought was the most beautiful girl in the world.

She was his salvation from a strict upbringing. He was her knight in shining armor who had always looked out for her. Through the many years of porch-swinging, cotton-candied summer nights, autumn harvest festivals, and hand-in-hand walks planning for the ideal life together, they were inseparable...until 9/11, when the real world interrupted their Rockwell-esque small town life, and Mitch had joined the Marine Corps.

This is not just the story of a wounded warrior finally coming home to search for the love, and the world he abandoned twenty years before. It is also the story of a man who is seeking forgiveness and a way to ease the pain caused by every bad decision he’d ever made. It’s the story of a woman who, with strength and determination, rose up from the ashes of a shattered dream; but who never gave up hope that her one true love would return to her. As she once told an old friend: “Even before we met all those years ago, we were destined to be together in this life, and we will be together again, because even today we’re connected in a way that’s very special, and he needs to know about it before one of us leaves this earth.”

Praise for Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea:

"Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea is a powerful, emotional rollercoaster that captures readers from the beginning and takes them on a journey of love, loss, and redemption. This may only be author Richard I. Levine’s second foray into the romance genre, but he has a remarkable talent for evoking story arcs and emotional dramas that will tug at readers’ heartstrings... I love discovering talented authors, and I will definitely be checking out more of this author’s work. This is a fantastic read and one I highly recommend."
~ Reviewed by Grant Leishman for Readers’ Favorite ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 5-STARS!

"It isn’t easy to edit when you’re crying, let me tell you! But I’m not complaining! This was so beautiful and emotional. It really struck a deep chord in me. It’s an impressive book, and I truly enjoyed it. Thank you so much for the opportunity (to have been your editor)"
~ Bryn Donovan

"Richard I. Levine’s Like Driftwood On The Salish Sea is a romance that goes way beyond the usual stuff and really hits you right in the heart. Forget just another small-town love tale—this one dives deep into fate, sacrifice, and how first love sticks with you forever. Levine’s writing is so spot-on that San Juan Island feels alive; you can practically smell the salty ocean air and soak in that Pacific Northwest vibe."
~ Piaras, Amazon Review

"Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea by Richard I. Levine is well-written and engaging right from the start. It's descriptive and pulls you in. It isn’t just a love story—it’s a contemplation on memory, time, and the resilience of the human heart."
~ V.E., Amazon Review

"Poignant, powerful, and tender. Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea is more than a romance, it’s a masterclass in emotional storytelling. Mitch & Jessica will say with you long after the final page."
~ Tae Keller on X

Book Details:

Genre: Romance, Literary Fiction
Published by: Indie
Publication Date: June 1, 2025
Number of Pages: 396
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

Read an excerpt:

1

Seattle, Autumn 2021

Mitch watched the I-5 traffic stream by like duty-bound ants marching in neat columns on their way to another conquest. He had wanted to open the window, covered with many months of dirt and grime, but it would have taken a half-dozen requisitions and just as many months before the maintenance department would have tended to it. He didn’t care about gaining a better view of the endless procession of late afternoon commuters; he was hoping to get a better view of the sun setting over the Olympic Mountains from the vantage point of the eleventh floor doctor’s office downtown.

Whether it was from an office building or from the decks of a ferry plying the waters of Puget Sound, it didn’t matter to him. Simply seeing the sun wash over the evergreens once again eased his anxiety faster than the strongest pharmaceutical he’d ever been prescribed. And over the course of the past few years, he’d been prescribed more pills for more reasons than he cared to count. But he wasn’t concerned about any of that now. He was focused on finally getting home.

At times, he questioned the life-altering choices he had made or the ghosts he had been avoiding for so long. At times, he even wondered why they had that much power over his better judgement, or if, in the end, he had avoided them at all.

It had been many years since he had last visited Seattle. The city seemed so foreign to him now. The places he enjoyed on his rare visits: a University District music store he had loved for their extensive inventory of compact discs, a Pioneer Square sports bar within walking distance of the football stadium, and a waterfront seafood restaurant he had listed among his favorite places, were all long gone. Except for the Space Needle, the skyline was not how he had remembered. A decade or more of gentrification that had given birth to a collection of glittering glass-on-steel architectural masterpieces, could only distantly hide the once-vibrant intersection of First Avenue and Pike Street. No longer decorated with flower baskets filled with a colorful bounty, or teaming with hungry buskers distracting eager tourists heading toward the Pike Place Market, this, as with other downtown boulevards once bursting with a vibrance representative of all the city had been known for, now seemed soulless. Empty paper coffee cups danced across the pavement like tumbleweeds, while lifeless eyes peered from wind-tattered tents that shared the sidewalks with empty storefronts and growing mounds of trash. Save for a recollection of a few clandestine excursions, Mitch no longer had any interest in this place. He wanted to conclude his business and be on his way back to a world that was also nothing more than a distant memory: a world filled with blackberry, apple, and pumpkin pies cooling on windowsills in the warmth of a late summer morning, the Memorial Day parades led by a high school band, the volunteer fire department, and a collection of potbellied members from the local VFW, and the potpourri of Fourth of July barbecues, sack races, and firework displays lighting up the skies over a Rockwell-esque Friday Harbor. It was a place he had wrapped around his insecurities as if it were a goose-down comforter used to keep warm during a snow-driven winter storm, and it was the place he had avoided. Maybe going back and facing the ghosts of his past would be more painful and life-threatening than the physical wounds and emotional scars he’d sustained during his multiple tours of duty in Iraq and Afghanistan. Yet here he was, as if a few more tests and one more opinion might have produced the silver bullet that would have magically reversed every bad decision he made over the past twenty years during a self-inflicted exile.

For the tenth time in as many minutes, he glanced at his watch, then up at the wall clock for confirmation. He’s late again, he thought before becoming aware of the clock’s relentless ticking and noticing the long shadows cast upon the opposite wall. To him, those shadows resembled a life slipping away—a life he felt no more able to grasp and hold on to no more than he could grab and hold on to any one of those shadows—and it abruptly reminded him of one of the last times he saw Alex.

* * *

Iraq 2004

“Is that who I think it is?”

Mitch reflexively cringed then turned toward the sound of the familiar voice. “Alex! I mean, Captain,” he quickly corrected himself, in front of the squad of men in his charge.

“Holy cow, Mitch, what the hell! What brings you to Baghdad?”

“Besides an all-expense paid luxury vacation, courtesy of Uncle Sam?” He forced a smile, then dismissed his men before continuing. “My unit was moved over here in oh-three from Afghanistan…for the invasion. We’ve been doing a lot of probing for, you know,” he lowered his voice, “retaking Fallujah. I don’t suppose you have anything to do with planning that, sir?”

Alex surveyed his immediate surroundings before responding. “No one’s within earshot now. Even if they were, you can drop the captain and the sir nonsense.”

“I’ll take that as a yes…sir.”

“C’mon, Mitch, let’s not do this here.”

“Fair enough, Alex. You were saying.”

“I pulled a few strings to get some of the best recon units for a little fun I’ve got planned before we launch the main operation. And yes,” he winked and attempted a little levity, “I even asked for you.”

“Very funny. Let it be known that even over here, you’re trying to get me to do your heavy lifting. When are you ever gonna admit that if it wasn’t for my size, speed, and blocking ability, you would’ve never scored all those touchdowns in high school?”

“That was you?” He smirked. “I did pretty well in college without you by the way.”

“Yes, I’ve heard…constantly. No offers from the pros, huh?”

“I had more important business to attend to.” Alex patted his sidearm.

“Yes, I’m well aware of that too.”

“What, you think you’re the only patriot?”

“So, that’s what you call it!”

“Mitch, please. There’s a lot you need to know. There’s a lot we really need to discuss. Not here, though. This isn’t the time or the place.”

“I’ll give you that. So, moving right along, when did you get here?”

“I’ve been in country for about two months now.”

Mitch smiled. “That’s hardly enough time to get your utilities dirty.”

Alex ignored the dig. “Truth be told, it seems like I’ve been here forever. Anyway, I’ve been here long enough to have that kid over there waiting to do errands for me every day.” He laughed and pointed to a ten-year-old Iraqi boy waiting nervously at his tent. “Showed up one day outta nowhere and now he’s like my shadow. You’ve been up to your neck in this for how long now?”

“Since summer of oh-two. Afghanistan and now here. So, who is this kid, like your food taster or your house boy?” He studied the child with suspicion.

“Food taster?” Alex laughed. “He cleans up the tent, does my laundry…provides a little intel now and then. I pay him in MREs, which I’m sure he sells on the black market.”

“Smart little guy. Just don’t eat anything he brings you,” Mitch warned. “I don’t trust the locals.”

“You don’t trust anyone, especially me.”

“Well, it’s not as if you didn’t earn it.”

“I guess in your mind, at least until we have a chance to talk, I deserve that.”

“You do, but I’m serious about not trusting the locals, Alex. You never know who’s an insurgent or who’s been compromised.”

“Don’t worry, I checked him out. He’s a good kid.”

“Famous last words. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Well, anyway, you’re an intelligence officer, so I guess you know what you’re doing. After all, you made it through ROTC and all that other fancy training with your boyish good looks intact. I’ll bet the folks back home are proud of you as you rise through the ranks like a rocket.”

“Jealous?”

“Not one bit.” Mitch said defensively.

“Keep this to yourself…the real damage is on the inside.” Alex pointed to his head.

“I had heard that about you intel officers.”

“And look at you! Three stripes! That didn’t take you as long as I thought it would, Marine. At the rate you’re going—”

“Not me, brother. Except for burn-pit duty and having to get all those booster shots, I was happy just being a grunt. Only now I’ve got responsibilities like leading a squad on patrols. And on top of everything, I’ve got these guys who are just a couple years younger than us calling me ‘Pops,’ of all things.”

“Burn-pit duty, huh? I didn’t know they gave out Purple Hearts for sucking down toxic smoke. Does that stuff really get you stoned?”

“I almost wish it did. Sometimes that stuff made me puke up my guts like there was no tomorrow. I should’ve gotten those medals for that instead of playing dodgeball with bullets.”

“Yeah, I’m told everybody heard about that…front page of the paper back home.”

“Didn’t mean to steal your thunder.”

Again, Alex ignored the dig. “Next time you should duck and dodge a little faster.”

“Honestly, it was nothing. A couple grazed me, is all. Here...” He pointed. “Here, and over here. It’s no big deal. Anyway, how’d you hear about it?”

“It was in Jess’s last letter. She included the article. I hear you two have been corresponding.” Alex said, then looked for a reaction from Mitch. There was none.

“She wrote once. It was the first time I had heard from her since…anyway, she didn’t have much to say other than you were on your way over here. She asked if I could keep an eye out for you. It was only right that I respond. I told her I would. Nothing more.”

“That’s all anyone could expect.”

“Uh huh…by the way, how’s your little boy? Mateo, isn’t it? He must be getting big.”

“Like I said, we’ll talk…anyway, Mitch, I had already read up on your exploits.”

“You’ve been reviewing my personnel file? If I didn’t know any better, Alex, I’d say you really do have something planned and you’re gonna want me to carry it out for you.”

* * *

Doctor Lenkovich’s Office
The Present

“Did you hear me, Mitch? Mitch? Master Gunnery Sergeant Brody?”

Startled, Mitch hadn’t heard the doctor enter the room. “Sorry, doc, it’s been a long day…it’s been a long week.”

“Not a problem.” The doctor took a seat. “When I came in, you were talking to yourself. Can I ask what you were thinking about?”

“Nothing really…actually, that’s not true. I was thinking about everything you guys put me through the past couple months. Not just you or this place, but you know, all the tests, the paperwork, going through the process. I was thinking about getting out of here and finally getting back home.”

“How long has it been?”

“Far too long. I would’ve been there several weeks ago if I hadn’t been detoured to Bethesda and then Pendleton before ending up here.”

“You do know it was a suggestion to come here, right? A strong suggestion, perhaps, but it wasn’t an order. After all, your retirement came through and you were discharged. Don’t forget, you’re a civilian now, and I think it’s important for you to get established with a doc. It just makes sense, considering.”

“I know. Everybody here keeps reminding me. Did I tell you it wasn’t my choice to retire?”

“No, you didn’t. Was separating hard for you?” the doctor asked.

“Nah. I’ve had more than my share. It was time…I’m just trying to get used to it…” Mitch trailed off as the wall shadows once again stole his thoughts.

“Anyway,” Doctor Lenkovich said, “it’s just the corps’ way of taking care of one of its highly decorated heroes.”

“By forcing me out?” He snapped back as the flip of a light switch washed away the distraction. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…anyway, I don’t think of myself as a hero.”

“Forcing you out? Come on, it’s a medical discharge. What choice did they have? Anyway, you’ll be happy to know they finally sent the rest of your medical records. You’d think that after all these years I’d be used to the red tape and inefficiency that’s inherent…I’m rambling, sorry. All those tests we ended up duplicating since you arrived here…let’s just say, in case there was any doubt…well, let’s just think of the whole thing as one more confirmation. Which is what you wanted, and what you rightfully deserved. I hope the past week with us hadn’t been an inconvenience.”

“An inconvenience?” He chuckled. “From being constantly poked and prodded, or having the unwanted attention because I’m some highly decorated…?”

“Both. Are you saying you didn’t want all that special attention?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated the above-and-beyond from you and the staff. Even got a couple of names and numbers of some very nice nurses. Even so, I’ve never been one for medals, parades, accolades, etcetera. No, not me. That was Alex’s thing. In all honesty, I hate the attention. It’s embarrassing and it makes me uncomfortable. Especially when so many others here don’t get half of what they deserve.”

Their eyes locked in an uncomfortable moment of silence.

“Luckily for you,” Doctor Lenkovich continued while jotting Alex’s name in Mitch’s chart, “there may be one more parade and then you can pack the uniforms, the medals, and hopefully the bad memories, and put them all into mothballs.”

“What?” Mitch looked confused.

“Mothballs…I guess people don’t use those anymore.”

“I know what mothballs are. What parade?” Mitch asked. “Whaddya talking about?”

“Didn’t anyone from your hometown contact you?”

“I didn’t tell anybody I was coming…well, that’s not totally true. I left a voicemail for one guy to meet me, but he knows not to say anything to anyone. So, I’m in the dark here, Doc.”

“Hold on a sec.” He skimmed through Mitch’s file. “Where’s that note? Here it is. Someone from the San Juan Island VFW post contacted the Pendleton base commander right after the news ran a story on you.”

“Recently?”

“Several weeks back. They mentioned that you were coming home and that you were being considered for the Congressional Medal. Is that true?”

“It’s news to me.”

“Anyway, they want to throw you a homecoming parade…wanted to do it the day you got back there. So, I guess that’s why this guy wanted a heads up on an exact day. I’ve got a number right here. Do you want to call them?”

“No…no, I can’t.” He shook his head. “And they can’t do anything if they don’t know when I’m coming. They don’t know I’m coming, right? You didn’t call them?”

“Why would I? It’s not my responsibility. Although if you ask me, a welcome home like that might be good for you.”

“It’s been a long twenty years, Doc, and I’m tired in more ways than one. I don’t want the attention. And before you ask, I don’t wanna talk about why, and I don’t wanna talk to the shrink about it. I’ve talked to enough shrinks. Hell, I don’t even wanna think about it.”

“Understood.” He continued to flip through the chart, stopping to review one page. “Mitch, if I may…I’m still curious. I suspect you weren’t thinking about home just now when I walked in because I overheard some of what you were saying. The duty nurse told me you had another restless night. You were talking in your sleep again. What were you really thinking about? If not home, then what? Who? Your friend?”

“My friend?”

“Alex? You’ve mentioned him a number of times.”

“Who, Alex? My friend? He wasn’t my…no, I wasn’t thinking about him.” Remembering the shadows, Mitch stared back at the wall. “Why?”

“Because I’m told you’ve had conversations with him, with this ‘Alex,’ when you’re alone, and you’ve yelled out his name in your sleep more than a few times, and…and I’m told one night it was as if you were trying to warn him about something. Mitch, I heard you mumble his name just now when I walked into the room. It’s okay to admit you were thinking about him.”

“Just as long as I don’t think he’s sitting right here?” Mitch winked and smiled at the empty chair next to him to see the doctor’s reaction.

“I did see that in your file too. It says here you’ve been told PTSD manifests in many ways. I do know from experience with other patients, any deep-seated guilt over the death of a friend can make a person believe the deceased continues to hang around. So, tell me,” the doctor looked up from the file, “has that been happening? Are you seeing him? Talking to him? You can tell me.”

“I was only joking, Doc…no, it hasn’t happened, and it never did happen, and it’s not happening now, so, I don’t know what the duty nurse thought she heard. And for the record, I was joking with the doc at Bethesda too. That was my mistake. She was one of those uptight types. I was only trying to give her a rise, lighten the mood. I can’t believe she put that in my chart.”

“A couple of times. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. If you say it didn’t happen—”

“It didn’t!”

“I’ll make a note of that. Okay, moving right along...”

“Yes, let’s. About those last few tests…you said there’s nothing new to report, right?” Mitch asked.

“Do you have anything new to report to me? Headaches the same?”

“No better, no worse.”

“Any more episodes of nausea?”

“Just the one time this past week. I think it was from the sausages. They smelled a little funny, now that I think of it. I actually thought I saw one move. Other than that, the food here is pretty decent.”

“You’re joking, of course, yes?” Lenkovich asked

“About it being pretty decent?”

“Moving on…any confusion? Memory loss?”

“No confusion. However, I do have some memories I’d like to get rid of.”

“Any visual disturbances, slurring of speech, issues with balance or muscle weakness?”

“No, no, no, and no.” Mitch said.

“Okay, then. The latest tests show everything’s the same: the blood work, the scans, your sense of humor, no changes…for now, anyway. However, if you start to notice anything different, like if you actually become funny, you let me know.”

“So…then…we’re all good, right? We’re all done then.”

“Mitch, we could do more here, you know? The rate that this thing…it’s unpredictable. There’s a procedure we can do, it’s relatively new and—”

“I know, Doc, you’ve told me already. I’m not interested, sorry.”

“Look, I can arrange—”

“Thanks, but I think we’re all done here. Trust me, I’ll continue to take all my meds as directed, I’ll call when I need refills. I’ll call you if anything changes, I promise.”

“In that case, please do me a favor? After you get home, after you get unpacked and settled in, had some time to yourself, looked up old friends, I’d like to have you come back here in a couple months and—”

He shook his head. “Not gonna happen. I’m really not interested.”

“Listen Mitch—”

“Please, Doc, I’m finished listening. It’s nothing against you. You’ve actually been the most understanding, the easiest person to work with. I just don’t wanna do any more...I can’t do any more. All my years in the Corps I’ve had people telling me how to live my life, when to get out of bed, when to eat, who and how many to kill, I’m finished with all of it. I’ve got a small farm and a small hardware store waiting for me up on San Juan Island. For far too long now, I’ve been…I’ve been dreaming about waking up to a rooster’s cry, frying up bacon and some fresh-laid eggs in a cast iron skillet for breakfast, and topping off my coffee with warm milk straight from the teat before heading in to town to help some poor do-it-yourselfer find an odd sized doohickey for his hot water heater; all the things I detested growing up, which I’ve been missing for more days than I can count. I wanna get my hair cut at Freddie’s barbershop on Spring Street, where old men in suspenders still read newspapers, smoke cigars, and solve the world’s problems over a game of checkers.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Wanna know what’s really wonderful? Sitting by the big stone fireplace in Jentzen’s Café on a winter afternoon, drinking Irish coffee with a hunk of hot beer bread slathered in strawberry jam. And all the while, breathing in the heavy scent of fresh cut spruce and fir draped all across the windows as snow flurries dust the sidewalks and people rush by to get their Christmas packages to the post office before closing time. Now, that’s wonderful.”

“It sounds like a wonderful life in Bedford Falls.” Doctor Lenkovich quipped in his best George Bailey imitation.

“What?”

“Bedford Falls? It’s a Wonderful Life? The movie…never mind. It sounds like a wonderful life, Mitch, and I can see I’ll have a hard time convincing you to come back here for any follow-ups.”

“I was away for a long time, a lifetime, and now time is my enemy. So, once I set foot off that ferry I am not coming back to Seattle.”

***

Excerpt from Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea by Richard I Levine. Copyright 2025 by Richard I Levine. Reproduced with permission from Richard I Levine. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Richard I Levine

Richard I Levine is a native New Yorker raised in the shadows of Yankee Stadium. After dabbling in several occupations and a one-year coast-to-coast wanderlust trip, This one-time auxiliary police officer, volunteer fireman, bartender, and store manager returned to school to become a chiropractor. A twenty-five-year cancer survivor, he’s a strong advocate for the natural healing arts.

In 2006 he wrote, produced, and was on-air personality of The Dr. Rich Levine Show on Seattle’s KKNW 1150AM and after a twenty-five-year chiropractic practice in Bellevue, Washington, he closed up shop at the end of 2016 and moved to Oahu to pursue a dream of acting and being on Hawaii 5-O.

While briefly working as a ghostwriter/community liaison for a Honolulu City Councilmember, a Hawaii State Senator, and volunteering as an advisory board member of USVETS Barbers Point, he appeared as a background actor in over twenty-seven 5-Os, Magnum P.I.s, NCIS-Hawaii, and several Hallmark movies. In 2020, he had a co-star role in the third season episode of Magnum PI called “Easy Money.”

While he no longer lives in Hawaii, he says he will always cherish and be grateful for those seven years and all the wonderful people he’s met. His 5th novel, To Catch the Setting Sun, was inspired by his time in Hawaii. Like Driftwood on the Salish Sea is Levine’s first foray into the romance genre.

Catch Up With Richard I Levine:

www.DocRichLevine.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @rlevinedc
Instagram - @rlevinedc
Threads - @rlevinedc
Facebook - @RichardLevineAuthor

 

 

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