They say a werewolf’s first shift is like a meeting of two souls. I wouldn’t know.
The moon never called to me. Moonlocked, they call it—a were without a wolf. No bite, no claws, no strength. As a pureborn werewolf, daughter of the alpha, I’ve kept that shameful secret buried from everyone.
Except Grayson. He knows the real me.
He wasn’t born a were. He was bitten and turned, so we both know what it’s like to not really fit in. But when he gets sick with moon madness, his only hope is a powerful shaman who might know the cure.
To make matters worse, the packs have hired a hunter to track down all the moon-mad wolves and eliminate them before the disease spreads any further.
And Grayson is next on his list.
To save my friend and the rest of my kind, I’ll have to find a way to unlock the beast inside me. But what if, in the end, I’m the true monster everyone should be running from?
Harper A. Brooks lives in a small town on the New Jersey shore. Even though classic authors have always filled her bookshelves, she finds her writing muse drawn to the dark, magical, and romantic. But when she isn't creating entire worlds with sexy shifters or legendary love stories, you can find her either with a good cup of coffee in hand or at home snuggling with her furry, four-legged son, Sammy.
A Chatter of Bones & Baby’s Breath Suzanne Phillips Publication date: April 21st 2026 Genres: Young Adult
From acclaimed author Suzanne Phillips comes this compelling novella collection–gritty coming-of-age stories in narrative and verse that Kirkus Reviews calls “haunting and heartbreaking. . .an unflinching look at surviving trauma.”
A CHATTER OF BONES
Kaitlyn has come to rely on Olivia, the woman who rescued her from human trafficking, but is learning to trust her instincts and lean into her hard-earned strength. All of this will be challenged when a monsoon bears down on their remote spread, a mountain lion, flushed out of the surrounding hills by the weather, attacks, and human visitors push Kaitlyn to face her deepest fears.
BABY’S BREATH
Teen poet bares the geography of her heart and the “no care” foster care system as she mourns the mother she lost, releases dreams of reunification, and accepts that the only life she can live is the one in front of her.
TRAFFICK
The world is not safe for girls
Broken
Beaten
Forgotten
Sweetened
The world is not safe for girls
Not in twos
Or with mace
Not screaming for help
Or stony-faced
The world is not safe for girls
With pretty hair
Or pocked skin
With muffin top
Or perfect teeth
The world is not safe for girls
Not in your home or mine
Not in school
Or after
Not with two parents
Or none
There’s someone
Always waiting.
Stroked
Or snatched
Held by the hand
A picked flower
Sold
Bartered
Rented by the hour
Always someone waiting
In the shadows
Or under street lights
In the school cafeteria
At the family BBQ
A friend’s father
Favorite uncle
Colleague
Cop
Neighbor
Father
To prove
The world is not safe for girls.
Author Bio:
Suzanne Phillips is the author of YA fiction, the Nicole Cobain mystery series (writing as Emery Hayes), and upmarket fiction. For a peek into the writer's life and updates on book releases & events check out her website.
A Faith-Filled Coming of Age Story About Influence, Identity, and Purpose
Coming of Age, Christian
Date Published: April 25, 2026
Jade didn’t set out to become famous.
She just wanted to be seen.
When eighteen-year-old Jade Zachary begins experimenting with social media,
what starts as curiosity quickly turns into something bigger. Her posts gain
attention. Her following grows. But the spotlight comes with a cost. Harsh
comments begin piling up, accusations spread online, and strange anonymous
messages start appearing in her inbox. Someone is watching her more closely
than she realizes.
As the pressure of influence grows, Jade must confront questions far deeper
than likes or followers.
Who is she trying to impress?
What does real influence actually look like?
Guided by her faith, her family, and trusted friends, Jade begins to discover
that influence is not about popularity or clout. It is about purpose,
integrity, and the responsibility that comes with having a voice.
Blending Christian fantasy, suspense, and inspirational storytelling,
Influence God’s Way With Us explores the unseen spiritual principles
behind identity, discernment, and influence in today’s attention-driven
culture. Through Jade’s journey, readers discover powerful lessons about
authenticity, humility, leadership, and staying grounded in faith in a world
obsessed with approval.
The internet gave Jade a platform.
Faith will decide how she uses it.
This is not just a story about going viral.
It is a story about identity, boundaries, faith, and the courage to influence
the world God’s way.
If you’ve ever questioned the pressure of social media, identity, or
purpose, this story will challenge and inspire you. Get your copy today and
join Jade’s journey.
About the Author
Lola Salvador Akinwunmi is a writer, songwriter, and leadership architect with
a passion for shaping people who shape the world. Drawing from years of
creative and leadership work, Lola brings a rare voice to every room she
enters, one that is equally at home crafting a lyric, building a leader, and
telling a story that stirs the soul.
Her debut novella, Influence God's Way With Us, is the culmination of that
journey. It explores what it truly means to lead with divine influence, not
ego, strategy, or title, but surrender and purpose. Lola writes for the leader
who knows there is something deeper available and is ready to reach for it.
She has been featured in Addicted2Success, LinkedIn, Thrive Global, Brit +Co,
CEOWorld Magazine, The Good Men Project, and writes for Entrepreneur Magazine.
What if one conversation could change your entire life?
In 1979, Jeff Burgess was a 22-year-old college dropout drifting through life in a haze of beer, weed, and dead-end jobs. He was the "town clown" with an undeniable work ethic but no clear direction. Then, on a lazy Sunday afternoon, his father called him home for a talk that would shake him to his core: "You have a gift, and I cannot allow you to waste it anymore. It’s time to get your shit together."
From that moment, everything changed. Armed with a relentless drive, a knack for problem-solving, and a newfound determination to make something of himself, Jeff set out to prove his father right. Within two years, he skyrocketed from warehouse worker to Vice President of Sales at a booming tech company. By the time he retired, he had built a global business supplying surveillance video recording appliances to both the most iconic and the secure sites in the world.
It Worked for Me is the inspiring, no-nonsense story of how an underachiever transformed into an industry leader—one who thrived not by playing it safe, but by embracing risk, trusting his gut, and always finding a way forward.
If you've ever felt stuck, uncertain, or like success was just out of reach, this book will show you how to seize your own turning point.
Are you ready to take charge of your future? Pick up a copy today!
All proceeds for It Worked for Me will go directly to the Wounded Warrior Project.
Praise for It Worked For Me:
"It Worked for Me by Jeff Burgess is a powerful, down-to-earth story about turning life around through hard work and determination. Burgess shares how one tough conversation with his father pushed him to change his path from a drifting 22-year-old to the head of a $100-million company. His writing is straightforward, honest, and full of real lessons about perseverance, courage, and believing in yourself. What makes it even better is that all proceeds go to the Wounded Warrior Project. This is an inspiring read for anyone who feels stuck and needs a reminder that success is always possible." ~ 5-star Library Thing review
"Candid, humorous … He emphasizes the importance of common sense and learning from others. And his integrity is front and center." ~ 5-star review, Audiofile
"This was an interesting account of Jeff Burgess and his incredible journey. He has good advice and anedotes to back it up. Having the author as the narrator adds a special flavor to the audio book. In the very sad parts, it sounds like he gets choked-up, and as a listener, I held back a tear, too. Overall it was a good book." ~ 5-star review, Netgalley
In 1979, I was living in a two-bedroom apartment in my hometown of Skokie, IL with my best friend Gary. I was 22 years old, a few months removed from my sophomore year at Illinois State University--and I say `removed’ literally, since the Dean of Students had strongly pointed out that school wasn’t the best choice for me. Gary and I both had “floater jobs” which basically covered our monthly rent, weed, beer, and food, in that order. The landlord would likely say the rent and weed could be in a reverse order. Basically, I seemed to be following a destiny first noted in my 8th-grade yearbook from Oakview Junior High, where I was dubbed “town clown.” My mom was horrified. Me? I took it as a badge of honor, one that kept wearing through high school and my short stint in college.
It was a typical September Sunday. Gary and I were laying around, recovering from hangovers and planning our next adventure. Around four o’clock, the phone rang. It was my Dad.
“Hey, Jeff, are you busy?”
“Well, a little. Hanging out.”
“I really need to speak with you. Can you come over?”
I was at that age when I didn’t really have anything against my parents. I’d see them for birthdays and holidays and when I wanted to conduct a secret withdrawal from the packed meat freezer they kept in their basement, but I didn’t see the need to spend any time with them. “Is it important?”
His answer was firm. “It’s important enough that I’m asking you to come over—now.”
That was good enough for me. I quickly jumped into the shower to wash off the after-aroma of the previous night’s parties. As the hot water rushed down, my mind began spinning with scenarios. What did he want to talk about? Abruptly it dawned on me that maybe he was going to tell me he was dying. My mind always moved at a mile a minute, and all of a sudden it came to a screeching halt.
Why else would he need to talk to me? My dad was an ordinary man--52-years old, husband, father of four, CEO of an Envelope Company, recovering alcoholic, and my hero. He really was my rock, and more than made up for my distracted mother. How would I survive without him? We always shared this unspoken bond of my inheriting his OCD gene. And while he never appreciated that I was that town clown and high school fuck-up, he admired my work ethic. When I did put my mind to something, I took it to completion, whether it was shoveling neighbor’s sidewalks in those Chicago winters or moving their lawns in the summer. Even as an eight-year-old. And if I had suddenly kicked the bucket at age 20, that would have been the story of my life—a human oxymoron who had a great work ethic yet couldn’t keep a job.
He hugged me when I came through the door and told my mom to let us be. We went upstairs to my parents’ bedroom, which was decorated with a complete Brady Bunch-era motif: matching avocado and orange bedspread and curtains, beige shag carpeting, large imitation Picasso paintings on the walls. We sat together on the bench seat at the bottom of the bed, connected at the hip. He started to put his arm around my shoulder, and almost instantly I began to cry. “Dad, please don’t die on me!” I began to sob.
Startled, he jumped to his feet, then put his hands on my shoulders. “Listen to me! That’s not what this is about. I’m not dying! But now that you mention it, you are killing me.” I started to say something, but he quickly interrupted, “Seriously, I need you to listen to me.”
He started speaking to me, but it was more of a sermon. The tone in his voice was unlike anything I had heard from him before. I had never heard him in such an authoritative voice. I could already tell that I had either upset or disappointed him, but just did not know how or why. I quickly learned. “You are wasting your life,” he said. “You have always had an outstanding work ethic, he told me, along with an incredible quick wit, which I was just throwing away by being a smart ass, just looking for the laugh. “If you were ever able to use that wit in a more “think on your feet” manner instead of just being a comedian, you could have great value to some company one day.” He looked at me directly in the eye. “I didn’t send you to college to be a fuck-up. You have a gift, and I cannot allow you to waste it. You need to get your collective shit together.”
I was stunned, and very upset. Not so much about what he said, but because I knew it was dead-on.
My mind jumped back to a moment two summers before, when I was working in his company warehouse. The combination of my 17-year-old male hormones and the highly Latina warehouse staff were just too much for me to overcome, and I devoted far more time to chasing skirts than my responsibilities. He sat me down then, too, but instead of giving me a sermon, he fired me. I know that conversation was painful for both him to say and me to hear as well. It wasn’t so much that I embarrassed him as the boss’s son getting canned, but what hurt me most was that I had let him down. Here I was, letting him down again. What most upset me was knowing that he was not proud of me.
I drove back to the apartment. The aroma of cannabis greeted my arrival. Gary passed me the loaded a pipe as I entered, saying something to the extent of “you look like you need one.” But what I needed is what I had just received. My dad was my hero, and I had been confronted with the fact that I was failing him. And really, I had also been confronted with the fact that I was failing myself. “No thanks,” I said to Gary, echoing the words my dad had just said to me, “I really need to start getting my shit together.”
The very next day, I started searching the Help Wanted section in the Chicago Tribune. Some company called Tek Aids two towns over was looking for a warehouse worker. I had never heard of them, but I knew I wanted that job. I’m not sure why, but the ad called out to me. Maybe I just wanted a job quickly so I could get back into my dad’s good favor. For the interview, I put my best foot forward, wearing the blue blazer my mother bought me for high school graduation and borrowing a paisley tie I had bought Dad for Father’s Day.
They were a family business about five years old that had set themselves up as a computer peripherals distributor. They sold printers, monitors, and bins full of internal parts. Jud, the founder and CEO, gave me a tour of the 15,000sf facility. I could tell he had great pride in his operation, and I was impressed that he knew every employee on a first-name basis.
The warehouse was sloppy and seemed a little disorganized. I knew I could fix that. What surprised me is that they also had a tech area in the warehouse, run by a guy wearing thick lenses a lab coast – he looked like mad scientist. They were building student tech systems for community colleges, based upon Ohio Scientific’s Challenger 1P single-processor computer systems. “A warehouse and tech?” I said to Jud, without reply.
I did find it interesting that he was already introducing me, and after the tour, we went into his wife Lorrayne’s office and they both told be the job responsibilities. I was trying not to jump the gun, but it sure seemed like I was already hired. And I was really hoping they would, and I knew I was looking into a crystal ball and seeing my future. Perhaps I was willing it to happen by confidently adding “I look forward to hearing from you sometime tomorrow.” She gave me a strange look, perhaps due to my presumptuousness. “The blazer and tie won’t be necessary when you come back,” she said. At that point, I knew the job would be mine. I was already reorganizing the sloppy warehouse in my head.
I started two days later. Two years later, I was promoted to Vice President of Sales. Twenty years and three days after my Dad’s sermon, I founded my own IT server-building company, morphing into the video surveillance recording market in 2009. By the time of my retirement on my 66th birthday on July 21, 2023, I had built a company that is the world’s largest supplier of purpose-built surveillance video recording appliances, with over a quarter-million devices recording the video surveillance from over four million cameras in 91 countries around the globe. And all at the most secure sites or coolest companies in the world.
Here's the story of how that happened.
***
Excerpt from It Worked For Me by Jeff Burgess. Copyright 2026 by Jeff Burgess. Reproduced with permission from Jeff Burgess. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
From outhouse to penthouse.... He’s that guy who started in the embryonic stages of the computer industry way back in 1979 as a non-college graduate warehouse manager, selling his way to the top as the CEO of his own $100M company.
He never cared for the arrogance of the term "rainmaker," since he always thought "mercenary" sounded cooler, especially while selling hundreds of millions of dollars of high-end computer technology to the largest companies and government entities in the world!
His story is about all those bumps and bruises along the way, and the lessons learned honing his uncanny ability to turn opportunities into successes.
Artist, Lover, Forger, Thief is a riveting, wildly entertaining, complex, and adrenaline-fueled art crime novel that is as intriguing as it is satisfying. Nick McCoy wants out of the art forgery business but not until he exacts revenge on the man who murdered his family years ago. Kate O'Dade, McCoy's former therapist, comes to him for help after mysteriously receiving a painting of Matisse's Open Window from an unknown benefactor. This seemingly innocent meeting to determine its authenticity sets off a chain of events that will take McCoy, O'Dade, Cromwell and his new team of investigators from San Diego to England, and from art forgery to murder.
Rarely do you find such complex characters, intricate plot, compelling subject, and cunning psychological jousting woven throughout such a memorable story like Sharpe does in Artist, Lover, Forger, Thief.
Praise for Artist, Lover, Forger, Thief:
"Sharpe dives headlong into the murky waters of identity, obsession, and deception in her smart, psychologically charged thriller [Artist, Lover, Forger, Thief]. It explores the blurry line between art and artifice, healing and manipulation, love and control. [T]his is a genre-bending literary thriller that lingers long after the final page." ~ Prairies Book Review
"Artist, Lover, Forger, Thief...is a gripping tale set amidst the opulent yet treacherous world of high-end art crime in San Diego...[It explores] the moral dilemmas of art forgery, theft, and deception, with each character caught between their desires and the consequences of their actions. This stellar examination of art, deception, and forgery kept me riveted." ~ Reader's Favorite 5-Star Review
Book Details:
Genre: Mystery, Literary Fiction, Crime Fiction Published by: Redwood Publishing, LLC Publication Date: March 26, 2025 Number of Pages: 332 ISBN: 9781966333142 (ISBN10: 1966333145) Series: A Kate O'Dade Art Crime Novel, Book 1 Book Links:Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub
Read an excerpt:
Author Bio:
Sheila Sharpe has been a therapist for more than forty years, specializing in treating trauma, couples, and artists. Being a detective of sorts to determine patients’ issues and their solutions like she does in The Ways We Love, along with her past history as an artist and fascination with art forgery, led to the creation of her new fiction book series, the Kate O’Dade Art Crime novels.
Sins of the Fire: Purgatorio Phoenix Ward (Sins of the Fire, #2) Publication date: December 18th 2025 Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Young Adult
The Church of New Haven extends its reach to those in need, however there are some lost souls that require more direct guidance, as their sins must be met with strong redirection. Thus, Jonah was created. Originally a man named M█████ ████, he contains over two-hundred thousand sinners. Until they reconcile with their offense to God, they are to fast and pray for their salvation for as long as it takes them to realize their folly, and call upon us.
The boy will be saved from the Dragon, even if he must waste away to understand their danger.
This morning was a reminder that not only was sleep important, but so was waking up before 10am.
Between the heads of bed hair, scruffy clothes and flip-flops, there were black suits, floral dresses and sweet smelling perfume clouding the entrance of the store. Conversations were held in front of the doorway, carts were being pushed around like they were going out of style, and somehow that wasn’t the thing that made us second guess our trip to getting our travel items here. No, that all paled in comparison to the white van-bus with the words “Destiny Baptist Church”, written in Times New Roman on the side.
It wasn’t the church we had a problem with— it was the fact that it was Destiny, a local mega church that made their way through the doors. The same Destiny that would play on my grandmother’s radio, from preaching almost twelve hours of gospel to choirs capable of going seven octaves without any pause for breath. For whatever reason, they were here. Maybe it was some food-based event, or some donation cause, or maybe someone felt the ‘Holy Spirit’ invade them to help out a few families with groceries— either way, it was crowded. Worse yet, the congregants brought their kids too. One wrong turn with a cart and we’d be anointed with oil and made to play the burning bush. Imani and I both shared wary gazed with one another as the chatting church folk mingled with folks that just wanted to get their groceries.
I was the first one to take the initiative, but Imani was quick to hold me back from going too far.
“Hang on, no plan?” She asked, “We’re just going to go in?”
I shrugged, scooting aside as a family of three slipped past us. “Yeah. We just gotta make it through the doors. We’ll probably just grab baskets and split. When we’re done, we’ll meet right by the self-checkout, next to the gift cards.”
Her eyebrows looked like they’d fly away. She released her gentle hold of my arm. “I guess I shoulda known you’d know how to handle yourself, considering the stuff you dealt with.”
“Is it weird to admit that the cult shenanigans actually wilder compared to this?”
Imani sped ahead of me, playfully pushing me out of the way. “Just pray you don’t get lost in here!”
“Ah, pray! Good one.”
The doors opened, our opportunity for a clear entry inside revealed itself. With clergy folk standing by the door, we said our ‘Good mornings’ and kept it moving. Basket procured, we both split up and went our separate ways. I immediately made a beeline to the deli. Three pre-packaged sandwiches were perfect carry-on for the long trip. From there, I shot for the snacks aisle. Chips, protein bars, and those salty peanut butter cracker packages were all loaded up in the basket with haste. I said my ‘hello’s, and my ‘excuse me’s to any passerby, some people greet me, others regard me with a nod.
I wanted to be away from the churchgoers. They didn’t take up the store, but they were too permeated— too mixed in.
Too indistinguishable.
I wanted to pretend that everything was back to normal. That after all of the conflict, the fears, the crying, the fighting, things were safe again. Two months of nothing should have been enough to convince me, but I knew better. Every aisle I walked down, there was a body dressed in black or white—formal clothing or just plain clothes. Without touching Mysherra, I couldn’t tell which was a Havenite and which wasn’t. Even outside of the store, regular people, clerks, judges, beggars, anyone could be a Remnant out to get me, or one to watch me.
I put my hand in my pocket and stood in front of the line of power-drinks. My fingers grazed over the surface of the pen.
The hairs on my neck stood up. Goosebumps bristled along my arms. Piercing spheres of heat sandwiched both sides of my sides.
I didn’t dare turn my head—Peripherals attuned to the presence of two white-robed Remnants on opposite sides of the aisle.
“Kane.”
“I know.”
Slowly, I inched my arm out of my pocket, pen wedged between my fingers. They wouldn’t be able to fight me, not with eyes watching them from the ceiling. They didn’t want their secret to be discovered just as I didn’t.
“Do not acknowledge their presence,” Mysherra spoke to me, “Walk with me down the aisle.”
My legs walked me sideways. I didn’t want my back turned to either one of these things. The power drinks transitioned to the flavored powders. Flavored powders to sparkling sodas. Neither one of the beings made a move.
“Once you get close, fire me.”
Senses were screaming at me to run or fight the closer I got to the remnant. My heart was thudding against my ribs.
“Just a little closer.”
Light conjured at the tip of the pen. The burning spread along my entire right side.
“Okay, the fires should be quiet enough to—”
“Excuse me.”
Someone bumped against my back, cutting off my focus. “Ah, sorry about th—”
All I did was turn my head. I had seconds, milliseconds, microseconds to process the burgeoning man unlatching his jaw in front of me. Ropes of saliva separated a hollow light at the back of his throat. Flesh, wet, and acrid already surrounded me, sounds of the outside muffled by the remnant’s mouth closing behind me. I must have fired four times— twice to the ribcage roof of the mouth and twice towards the light. Footing vanished, the dark closed in, and the door to the outside slammed shut behind stone teeth.
And I fell.
Author Bio:
Phoenix Ward is an indie black writer, and educator from Philadelphia. He has worked in the field of education for over five years, teaching all grades Mathematics and English. When he’s not writing, he is composing music using Logic Pro X, or tutoring children on subjects they struggle in. Currently, he lives in Philadelphia with his dog and cat.
An avid world-builder, Phoenix has created many stories from youth to adulthood, but none have captivated him as much as his latest work Sins of the Fire, which combines his passion for storytelling with his deep understanding of human nature. He draws inspiration from the vibrant city life of Philadelphia and his own experiences as an educator, infusing his narratives with authenticity and depth.
In addition to his work as a writer and educator, Phoenix is committed to supporting young creatives in their journeys. He actively encourages students and adults alike to seek a way to create their own stories. Everyone has a message to share, and doing so in story is the best way to do so.
If the newspaper reported your death and no one questioned it, would you
correct the mistake… or take the lifeline?
Dan Driscoll is consumed by gambling debt, cornered by bookies and loan
sharks, forced to bet on one last scheme. When things turn violent and two
people are shot, his best friend, Stan Neumann, swallows what he suspects. He
can’t risk divulging a closely-held family secret.
Then a body washes up on the Lake Michigan shoreline, and the lake gives Dan
what the bookies never would: a way out. Authorities call it an accident and
list him as the drowning victim. For Dan, it’s an escape route delivered
in black ink.
He becomes a ghost, an imposter, a chameleon. But lies don’t stay
buried.
As America is pulled into World War II, Stan enlists, choosing duty on his
terms before the draft can rewrite his life. In Pearl Harbor, one chance
encounter dredges up a name he thought was long buried.
War changes everything, but it doesn’t erase unfinished business. And
when the truth demands to be heard, how long can a stolen life stay buried
before the past comes to collect?
While author Mark Bearss was setting the stage for his retirement, concerned
co-workers would ask, “What are you going to do when you’re not
working?” He found this question rather curious. It should have been
posed, “What are you going to do first?” Mark knew that if travel
was involved, he had had enough of commercial flights after 28 years of
teaching for the medical device industry. Mark yearned for road trips –
to visit those places he only saw from 38,000 feet. Little did he know that
wish journeyed down an unexpected fork in the road. He would become an author.
While conducting genealogy research, Mark discovered archived de-classified
military documents that revealed the name of a U.S. Navy destroyer his father
served aboard during WWII. The reason this was a poignant discovery was
because, while growing up in Grand Rapids, Michigan, his father made no
mention of this. Apart from being a U.S. Naval Reserve flight instructor, he
knew his father served aboard the carrier USS ESSEX. But in what capacity?
That, too, was not revealed. More discoveries materialized the further he dug.
In fact, there was a lot more his father didn’t mention. This
wasn’t unusual. Many WWII veterans didn’t talk about what happened
back then.
Because of the pandemic, the National Archives in St. Louis was closed and
rendered Lt. Bearss’ military records unavailable. Thus began a project
that challenged Mark’s research endeavors for over two years and about
5,000 miles on the road. The biographical sketch was sorted from creative
Internet search strings, history books, navy publications, and networking with
journalists, librarians, archivists, bloggers, aviation enthusiasts, museum
and historical society curators, navy veterans, relatives, and more. One
online resource that was instrumental in tracking his father’s journey
was the weekly newspaper published in the county where his parents grew up:
The Oceana Herald. It included a Local News section where family members and
organizations could submit a short blurb about a relative’s visit, a
social gathering, or – where a son or husband was currently stationed.
This project culminated in 2022 with Mark’s first publication titled,
Undisclosed Stories Discovered: Honoring the World War II Military Journey of
Lt. Joseph Ward Bearss, USNR. When asked what was one of the highlights
surrounding this story, he described the road trips to seek out and discover
places where his father lived, trained and was stationed during the war. What
prompted him to write this as a biography took place during a meeting with the
curator of the World War II Home Front Museum on St. Simons Island, Georgia.
St. Simons Naval Air Station was the site for the U.S. Naval Radar Training
Station, where Lt. Bearss was trained in shipboard radar operations, enemy
interception, and Fighter Direction. While the museum had ample archived
materials about the facility, it had very little documented about the
servicemembers who trained there.
Only 250 copies were printed. Mark went back on the road in his Class-B
motorhome and personally donated those copies to family members, friends and
relatives, the librarians, archivists, researchers, museums, curators,
historical societies, newspapers, The American Heritage Center, VFW Posts,
airport FBOs, and other assorted WWII enthusiasts in 12 states who helped in
his endeavors. It was a two-fold reward. Not only did his father’s story
finally become told, Mark experienced the pleasure of meeting all these
wonderful people who were his resources, advisors, collaborators, and
consultants. Up until that point, they were only names in an email contact
list.
You’re probably asking, “How is all this relevant to Mark’s
new novel, Cain’s Chameleon?” It was the research from The Oceana
Herald that planted the seed for this story. While perusing its issues, Mark
stumbled on two articles that piqued his curiosity. The first reported an
attempted murder in a home close to his family’s summer cottage on Lake
Michigan. The second reported a drowning victim that washed up on the beach
right where Mark and his friends used to play. Just two more stories never
divulged while growing up. He wondered, Were these two events related? Then
Mark decided — he would make them related.
When injuries put an end to the figure skating career of Angela
Fernandez Parnell, she joins the Peace Corps.
She is assigned to Tunis where she falls in love with U.S. diplomat James
Whitcomb. At the conclusion of their tours of duty, they marry. Within weeks
of the wedding, he is taken captive in the Iranian Hostage Crisis of 1979-81.
James, held hostage in the U.S. Embassy in Teheran, endures the same demons
that afflicted the real life hostages during the actual crisis 45 years ago.
Angie, biting her nails at home, endures her own demons. How can she support
him? Should she join efforts to force the president into negotiating a
release? Or even a rescue?
When the ordeal finally ends fourteen months later, the couple faces a new set
of demons. Rebuilding their life together as they each recuperate from their
own PTSDs.
About the Author
Historical thriller author JJ Harrigan is a former US Service Officer
and political science professor. He scribbles his tales of intrigue on the
banks of the St. Croix River in Minnesota, where he lives with his wife,
Sandy.
Rowan Campbell has a stalker. Only her magic can stop him.
Her stalker's obsession goes beyond Rowan's natural beauty: he wants to control the magic she struggles to admit she possesses. More than anything, Rowan longs for normalcy. But the stalker's unlimited resources and unrelenting pursuit force her to accept that leaning into her magic is the only path to a chance to free herself. Angry and desperate, Rowan builds a plan to break free of her pursuer that requires her to come out of hiding, return home to America, and learn to use her inherited abilities. To do so, she'll enlist the help of her white hat hacker brother, Griff, and her aunt, the only living connection to her magic. Before she's ready to face her stalker, Rowan must evade capture, learn about her magical legacy, and accept that she can only prevail if she believes in herself and embraces her power.
Wired For Magic is the fast-paced story of a woman's journey to come to terms with her personal power in a battle for her life, freedom, and the chance to open a path to love.
Book Details:
Genre: Fantasy, Suspense and Thrillers, Women's Fiction Published by: Porch Swing Publishing, LLC Publication Date: March 31, 2026 Number of Pages: 336 pages, Paperback ISBN: 9780997389692 (ISBN10: 0997389699) Book Links:Amazon | KindleUnlimited | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub
Read an excerpt from WIRED FOR MAGIC:
Author Bio:
Janet Roberts is a former global leader in cybersecurity education. Her books are set wholly or partially in Western PA, where her roots run deep. Her readers know to expect a female character who awakens to the discovery of her own inner strength while facing adversity. Wired For Magic (2026), her first fantasy thriller, combines a strong woman, magical realism, suspense, and elements of cybersecurity. She’s also the author of the award winning novel, What Lies We Keep (2024). A member of Women’s Fiction Writers Association and Sisters in Crime, she lives in Pittsburgh and loves travel, wandering through bookstores, reading on her porch swing, and sharing a bottle of wine with friends.
𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 
𝐀𝐝𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐛𝐮𝐛 ➜ 
