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Saturday, February 29, 2020

Book Tour & Giveaway ~ Loving A Young Series by Stacy Eaton


Wesley 
Loving a Young Series, Book 1
by Stacy Eaton
Genre: Contemporary Romance 


Traumatized by events of her past, Charlotte Bennett is not a fan of strangers. When she sees a man touching her daughter at the park, she reacts without listening. It’s only later when her daughter is rushed to the hospital that she realizes how wrong she had been.

Doctor Wesley Young only wanted to help the tender-aged girl he witnessed fall, but when her mother attacks him at the park, he’s left stunned. When the little girl arrives later in the emergency department, he comes face to face with the mother makes more of an impression on him than the cut she left on his face.

Things heat up quick when Marisol is no longer his patient, but when things from the past are revealed, Wes isn’t sure that Charlotte is the woman for him. Can Charlotte find a way to explain it all so that Wes will accept both her and her daughter before it’s too late?





Henley 
Loving a Young Series, Book 2 


Being a wedding planner is hard, especially when someone is always trying to steal your business, and your family doesn’t support you. However, Roxanne Novak is determined to keep her business afloat. When Roxy’s in a car accident hurrying to meet a potential bride, she’s injured and scared, but paramedic Henley Young takes good care of her.

Henley loves his job and thrives on the adrenaline of helping people in need. Maybe that’s why when he meets Roxy, he’s inclined to help her with more than just medical care. Hooking her up with his older brother Wesley and his bride-to-be could be just what she needs. It might also be the start of something between the Lee and the spunky little wedding planner.

When a position at a country club is offered to Roxy, she finds herself rethinking her entire business plan. Excited to start someplace new, Roxy and Henley begin making plans for the future. Just after she starts her new job, Roxy learns of Lee’s past relationship, and everything she knew about him is questioned.

Can Roxy and Henley put the past to bed and move forward to something that might be more than what both of them had ever hoped for? 

The Loving A Young Series is about a family of six siblings finding love in today’s world. Wesley, Book 1 and Henley, Book 2 will soon be joined with Huntley, Riley, Bradley and Kayley. 






Stacy Eaton is a USA Today Bestselling author and began her writing career in October of 2010. Stacy took early retirement from law enforcement after over fifteen years of service in 2016 due to a second serious concussion. Her last three years on the job were in investigations and crime scene investigation. She now writes full-time. 

Stacy resides in southeastern Pennsylvania with her husband, who works in law enforcement, and her teen daughter. Stacy also has a son who is currently serving in the United States Navy. She is also very involved in Domestic Violence Awareness and served on the Board of Directors for her local Domestic Violence Center for three years. 

Stacy writes a variety of genres, but mostly romance. She enjoys writing real-life stories that people can relate too with real-life problems, emotions, and solutions. 

Her favorites: Classic cars, photography, Disney, music, coffee and her favorite sweatshirt that says, "You are dangerously close to getting killed in my next novel." 

Visit Stacy's website for more information on her and her books. 





$10 Amazon – 2 winners! 
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!




Book Tour & Giveaway ~ Dagana - The Last Mermaid by Kody Boye


Dagana: The Last Mermaid 
by Kody Boye 
Genre: Fantasy Thriller 


I have always loved the ocean. Beautiful and tranquil, it seems like it can do absolutely no harm.

Until the night my parents go missing, and then are subsequently found dead.

Both have been viciously mauled by something off the Gulf—something even the medical examiner claims is an ‘unknown animal.’ But the worst part? I swear I saw something in the water the night they were both killed.

But this is no chance occurrence. As the body count begins to rise, and as more tragedies unfold, I realize that something has to be done.

Someone has to hunt down, and kill, the monster of Mermaid Cove.

That someone is me. 






Though he was born and raised in Southeastern Idaho, Kody Boye has lived in the state of Texas since 2010. His first short story, [A] Prom Queen's Revenge, was published at the age of fourteen. He has since gone on to publish numerous works of fiction, including the young-adult novels When They Came, The Beautiful Ones, The Midnight Spell and ALT CONTROL ENTER, as well as fiction for adults. He currently lives and writes in the Rio Grande Valley of South Texas. He is in the process of obtaining an undergraduate in creative writing and plans to pursue an MFA to teach afterward. 





Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!




Virtual Book Tour ~ Feasible Living by Ken Kroes


Non-Fiction
Date Published: November 28, 2019
Publisher: 1779671 Alberta Inc

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No matter which way we turn today, trends like pollution, climate change, and the 4th Industrial Revolution are impacting the ecosystems that you and I live in.

The thrust of the book is to bring awareness to major global trends that we are facing and to give suggestions on how to adapt and prepare for them.

Topics covered include mental health, physical health, employment and lifestyle, social impact, and emergency readiness.

There is an emphasis on mentoring our youth who are especially impacted by both the anxiety that these trends raise and their direct impacts.


Excerpt:

Ecological anxiety is a serious issue and can lead to a variety of physical and mental health issues including depression and a general feeling of hopelessness. It can also drive us to a behavior that is not in our best interest: doing nothing. The problems that our planet is facing are real. They are impacting us right now and will only get more extreme as time goes on. By not acting now to safeguard yourself, you will only make the situation worse for you and your loved ones.

Now is the time to decide how far you are willing to go to set yourself up for success and to reduce the impact the trends will have on you and your family.


What Reviewers Are Saying:

It's a top recommendation for social issues, environmental issues, and psychology or self-help readers alike and is a much needed offering of hope at a critical time in human and planetary history. - Diane Donovan - Midwest Book Review

Contrary to the highly urgent, often alarmist messages being bandied about at large, Mr. Kroes offers his readers an incredibly reasonable look at our current and evolving ecological state of being, perhaps centering on climate change, but including all the important peripheral elements of current and upcoming societal change... Reader's Favorite - 5 Star Review

This book is written in a way that emphasizes current trends and states of mind, including climate change. This book is put together in a fashion that is easy to read and understand. I look forward to reading more by this author. This book is a definite recommendation by Amy's Bookshelf Reviews.

About the Author

Ken Kroes is the author of the Percipience Eco-Fiction Series and the non-fiction books, Feasible Planet and Feasible Living. He is passionate about our relationship with our planet and applies his diverse background which includes agriculture, mechanical engineering, and information systems into his writing. Born in Calgary, Canada he has a bachelor’s degree in Mechanical Engineering and has had the pleasure of living in many locations in North America and has traveled extensively.

Contact Links



Purchase Links



RABT Book Tours & PR

Blog Tour ~ The Great Witches Baking Show by Nancy Warren

The Great Witches Baking Show by Nancy Warren Banner

 

 

The Great Witches Baking Show

by Nancy Warren

on Tour February 1-29, 2019

Synopsis:

The Great Witches Baking Contest by Nancy Warren
A baker with secrets
Witches in trouble
The cameras are rolling
Ready, set, die.


Poppy Wilkinson is thrilled to be chosen as a contestant on The Great British Baking Contest. As an American with English roots, winning the crown as Britain’s Best Baker would open doors she’s dreamed of. In more ways than one. Appearing on the reality show is her chance to get into Broomewode Hall and uncover the secrets of her past.



But strange things are happening on the show’s set: accusations of sabotage, a black cat that shadows Poppy, suspiciously unsociable residents at Broomewode Hall—and the judges can be real witches.



There are murmurs that Broomewode is an energy vortex. It certainly makes Poppy see and do things that aren’t exactly normal, and seems to draw interesting characters to the neighborhood.



When a fellow contestant dies in mysterious circumstances, Poppy has more to worry about than burned pies and cakes that won’t rise. There’s a murderer on the loose and it’s up to Poppy and her new friends to solve the crime before it becomes a real show-stopper.



From USA Today Bestselling Author Nancy Warren, this delicious series of cozy paranormal mysteries will have you guessing until the end. Includes recipes.


Book Details:

Genre: Culinary Cozy

Published by: Ambleside Publishing

Publication Date: January 15th 2020

Number of Pages: 250

ASIN: B07ZL472PK

Series: Culinary Cozy #1

Purchase Links: Amazon | Goodreads



Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER ONE

As life-changing moments go, getting the call that I’d been chosen to compete in The Great British Baking Contest was right up there. I’d practiced, auditioned and practiced some more. I was a decent home baker, but was I really the best in Britain? Probably not. But I didn’t have to be.
The contest was my way of getting into Broomewode Hall, where the show was filmed. I had my own reasons for going there that had nothing to do with baking.
Still, it hadn’t been easy to be chosen. There were thousands of applicants every year and then an excruciating selection process, where the show’s producers chose twelve from the short list and made us bake on camera. Some people went to pieces; some were just really boring. They randomly selected bakers off the short list and tried out different combinations of personalities, a bit like baking, really, seeing which ingredients created the most interesting results. I quickly learned that the trick was to be a good character, try to be funny, be a good sport, pretend you didn’t notice that cameras were on you and a clock was ticking down the minutes, and still turn out a decent jam tart.
Easy peasy! Not.
One of the reasons they chose me for the show, I think, was that while I was British, I’d grown up in the States, which was kind of fun, as the show had become a huge hit in America. I’d also started life in a bakery. Or, more accurately, in a cardboard box outside a bakery in Norton St. Philip, a charming village near Bath in Somerset.
I like to think my mother, whoever she was, chose the bakery so she knew I’d be warm and, since bakers start work so early, I’d be found. And I was. When Gareth Philpott came to work that morning, he said he looked into the box and found me wide-awake, staring up at him. Not crying, not fussing, just staring as though I’d expected him. They named me Poppy. The Philpotts would have kept me if they could have. They’re a nice family, but they already had three children, and the authorities don’t just give a family a baby because they happened to stumble across one. First they tried to find my mother or any information at all about my origins. When that proved impossible, I was adopted by Agatha and Leland Wilson, and they became my parents.
They were both teachers. They’d tried for years to have their own children, and their delight in getting me was reflected in the way they pretty much turned their lives around to give me the best upbringing they could. They were loving parents, kind and patient. Strict when they had to be. We lived in Bath for the first eight years of my life, and then my dad was offered a teaching job in Seattle.
I grew up there, mostly, lost the British accent, became a typical American teenager, and then when I finished high school, my folks retired and moved back to the UK. I could have stayed in Seattle. I had friends, and I could’ve gone to college there, but I chose to come back to England. I think, deep down, it’s always felt like home. Besides, like a lot of adopted kids, the mystery of my beginnings haunts me.
Soon after returning to England, my folks moved to the south of France to bask in warmer weather, grow lavender and cook gourmet meals. My dad, who taught history, was writing a book. My mom was learning French.
They’d saved up a nice chunk of change for me to go to college but, in spite of having teachers as parents, I never felt the urge. I was always more artistic than intellectual, so I went to an art and design college for two years, and they let me use the rest of the money toward buying a tiny cottage in Norton St. Philip. It’s probably crazy, and nobody even thinks my mother was from there, but I started my life in that village and so it pulled me back. The Philpotts still ran the bakery and were my second family. I guess you’ll always have a bond with the person who picked you up off the street as a newborn. Besides, growing up as an only child, I was fascinated by their sprawling, noisy family.
I became a freelance graphic designer, which allowed me to work from home.

Gina Philpott was my age and my best friend. She was also the only one who knew why I really wanted to get on that show.

It went all the way back to when I was just a baby in that cardboard box. I’d been wrapped in a curious blanket.
I saw my baby blanket one day when I was watching The Great British Baking Contest. They always filmed at Broomewode Hall, a Georgian manor house that wasn’t open to the public. Broomewode Hall was the seat of the Earl of Frome, Robert Champney and his family. During one of the behind-the-scenes segments on the show, Lady Frome, showed them around her home.
As the camera panned around the great dining hall I was instantly transfixed by a woman in an oil painting who seemed to be wearing my baby blanket! I saw now that, in fact, it was a shawl. But the pattern was the same. I was certain of it.
And from that very moment, I began my quest to find out more about Broomewode Hall. Lord and Lady Frome guarded their privacy tenaciously, and it was impossible to get access to them and their family home. Besides, what would I say? “I think one of your ancestors once wore my baby blanket? The best way I could think of to spend time there was to qualify as a baker on The Great British Baking Contest.
I’d done it. Against incredible odds, I’d been chosen as one of twelve bakers. It was one step toward finding how who I really was. All I had to do now was figure out how to get the rest of the way.
***
Excerpt from The Great Witches Baking Show by Nancy Warren. Copyright 2019 by Nancy Warren. Reproduced with permission from Nancy Warren. All rights reserved.





Author Bio:

Nancy Warren
Nancy Warren is the USA Today bestselling author of more than seventy novels, including the best selling Vampire Knitting Club series and the Toni Diamond mysteries. She's from Vancouver, though she tends to wander. She holds an MA in Creative Writing from Bath Spa university, appeared on the front page of the New York Times when her book Speed Dating launched the Harlequin/Nascar series. She was also the answer to a clue in a crossword puzzle in Canada's National Post newspaper.

Catch Up With Our Author On:

NancyWarren.net, Goodreads, BookBub, Instagram, Twitter, & Facebook!


Cozy up with Kathy

Guest Post

Today I want to talk about cooking. Mainly, why culinary cozy mysteries work so well. If you think about it, there are lots of similarities between baking and a good mystery novel.

First, you take a group of ingredients that haven’t got much in common. Raisins and flour, for instance. One’s a dried fruit, the other’s ground grain. You add eggs, which come from chickens (hopefully happy ones). Butter from cows. Maybe there’s a lemon, from a tropical tree. Cinnamon which is from the inner bark of a tree that grows in places like Indonesia. It’s all very eccentric, but when you combine them all and add heat, magic can happen.

It’s the same with a good mystery. You take this group of people who appear to have nothing in common, as different from each other as raisins are from flour and eggs are from lemons. Combine them, add the heat of a stressful situation, such as a murder investigation and watch the magic happen.

When I decided to write The Great Witches Baking Show I was, of course, already a fan of the Great British Bake-Off and all its spinoffs. I’d been watching season after season as this group of strangers with nothing in common but a love of baking got together beneath a tent and baked under intense pressure.

The show is so addictive! I love watching how we get to know the bakers a bit better each week and root for them. I truly hate the moment when someone has to be sent home because I’ve come to care about them and want them to do well. I love the way the contestants get so close as the series progresses and when they help each other, comfort each other, go for the group hug at the end of each episode, I feel like there’s hope for this world.
Ve a
So, I was watching one day, thinking about how baking is a bit like writing a mystery when I banged my palm against my forehead (yes, thanks for asking, it did hurt!) and thought, there’s my next mystery series.

It’s perfect because there’s a group of people who appear to have nothing in common, forced to be together under intense pressure. Naturally, I added in some witches and murders, and stood back to watch what would happen. I have to say, it’s a lot of fun. I have so much more respect for these bakers having researched what goes into even getting  a spot on the show, never mind managing to handle all the pressure while still turning out baking goods that are as pretty to look at as they taste.

Because I am cruel, in my book the characters have all that to contend with, plus there are murders and mysterious goings on.

The reward for the reader is a satisfying conclusion and, naturally, recipes.





Tour Participants:

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GIVEAWAY!!:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Nancy Warren. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on February 1, 2020 and runs through March 2, 2020. Void where prohibited.
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Blog Tour ~ The Vampire Next Door - The True Story of the Vampire Rapist by JT Hunter

The Vampire Next Door

The True Story of the Vampire Rapist

by JT Hunter

on Tour February 1-29, 2020

Synopsis:

The Vampire Next Door: The True Story of the Vampire Rapist by JT Hunter


While he stalked the streets hunting his unsuspecting victims, the residents of a quiet Florida town slept soundly, oblivious to the dark creature in their midst, unaware of the vampire next door.



John Crutchley seemed to be living the American Dream. Good-looking and blessed with a genius level IQ, he had a prestigious, white-collar job at a prominent government defense contractor, where he held top secret security clearance and handled projects for NASA and the Pentagon. To all outward appearances, he was a hard-working, successful family man with a lavish new house, a devoted wife, and a healthy young son.



But he concealed a hidden side of his personality, a dark secret tied to a hunger for blood and the overriding need to kill. As one of the most prolific serial killers in American history, Crutchley committed at least twelve murders, and possibly nearly three dozen. His IQ eclipsed that of Ted Bundy, and his body count may have as well.


Book Details:

Genre: True Crime

Published by: RJ Parker Publishing

Publication Date: October 11th 2014

Number of Pages: 365

ISBN: 1500909491 (ISBN13: 9781500909499)

Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads



Read an excerpt:

Chapter 2: You were a vampire...
Nineteen-year-old Christina Almah was still a virgin, and a bit naïve when it came to matters of sex, but like most teenaged girls on the verge of womanhood, she enjoyed receiving attention from good-looking, romantically inclined men. Yet, even she was surprised when, after a handsome, slightly older man took an interest in her, she found herself traveling all the way across the country to see him again.
Christina first met twenty-two-year-old Carl Von Bane several months earlier while he was visiting a friend near her hometown of Westminster, California. She immediately noticed him when he walked into the Drug Emporium where she had been working for the past year as a clerk, and they had quickly hit it off. His rugged, bad-boy looks and confident disposition combined to render her fully smitten. But the budding romance had barely begun before “Von” returned home to Florida. Their brief time together had passed much too quickly for the love-struck Miss Almah.
Since Von’s departure, they had continued their blossoming relationship by telephone racking up steep long distance bills. All the while, Christina had meticulously saved her meager Drug Emporium pay so that she could afford to purchase a plane ticket to visit him. When Von had called her a few weeks ago, Christina hinted at wanting to see him again by casually mentioning that she had some vacation time that needed to be used. When he suggested that she catch a flight to Florida to visit him, she had immediately agreed. After all, this was not some fly by night infatuation. She thought that she might be in love.
Christina had been counting the days until this trip—a weeklong vacation certain to be a memorable one if for no other reason than the fact that it would be the first time she had ever traveled alone. She booked a direct flight on Eastern Airlines from Los Angeles to Orlando International Airport, and Von had picked her up there nearly a week ago. Since then, she had been staying with Von in his mother’s mobile home at Lot 12 of the Enchanted Lakes Mobile Home Park on Malabar Road, near the eastern edge of the City of Palm Bay in southern Brevard County.
Named for the lush palm trees that lined the bay at the mouth of Turkey Creek, the nearly 100-square-mile Palm Bay had experienced a period of rapid growth in recent years fueled by an influx of retirees, northern transplants, and space industry workers. As part of the “Space Coast,” Palm Bay benefited from its proximity to Cape Canaveral, home to the National Aeronautics and Space Administration’s space shuttle program. To the west of Palm Bay, just past Interstate 95, a vast expanse of swamps and marsh grass stretched beyond the horizon, home to an endless assortment of flora and fauna. Under the blinding gaze of the eternal Florida sun, cold-blooded creatures swam silent and unseen as they had for ages past, ancient predators stalking their unsuspecting prey.
Immediately to the east of Palm Bay sits the Town of Malabar, a small, quiet community only thirteen square miles in size. Its eastern edge meets the Intracoastal Waterway in a subtropical paradise of palm trees, sailboats, and spectacular sunsets. The area’s abundant seafood, perennial sunshine, and constant sea breeze reminded Christina of her favorite parts of California. That familiarity was reassuring. It felt comfortable. She felt safe.
A petite girl standing about five feet, four inches tall and weighing a little less than 110 pounds, Christina was not a beauty queen, but she was not unattractive either. Indeed, her green eyes and brown hair combined in an inviting way that most men found sensual and appealing, and she had enjoyed her fair share of suitors. Although she had shared a few intimate moments with boys in high school, she had never found one with whom she felt comfortable enough to sacrifice her virtue. Still sexually inexperienced, she had the classic Libra traits of compassion, innate gentleness, and a genuine caring for others, traits that were sometimes misconstrued by men. Still, it never dawned on her that Von’s testosterone-driven brain would expect something more than a kiss hello, or that he would interpret her willingness to fly across the country to visit him as a green light for sleeping together. Von had tried to take that next step during her first night in Florida, and when she told him that she was not ready, he had reluctantly played the part of the understanding boyfriend, but he could not wholly hide his irritation and mounting frustration.
Von worked at Gator Chrysler in nearby Melbourne, and he had to leave Christina alone for much of the day. That had been the routine for most of the week, and the excitement of staying with someone in another state had long-since faded away. On this particular morning, she passed some time by listening to a worn down cassette tape of Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” album, popping it into the cherry red Sony Walkman that Von had given her. She played several songs, rewound the tape, and played them again, but after a while she tired of listening to the provocative singer purr about being “touched for the very first time.” She tried watching television after that, but quickly lost interest in the mindless game shows and melodramatic soap operas that dominated the channels. Growing bored, she decided to walk to Melbourne a few miles away to visit several friends that she had met through Von. She would be flying back to California the next morning and wanted to say her good-byes and make the most of her final day of vacation. Wearing blue jeans, sandals, and a black t-shirt with a Harley-Davidson insignia splashed across the front, she left the trailer shorty after 1:00 p.m. It was the twenty-first day of November, 1985.
As she walked out of the entrance of the mobile home park, a light rain began to fall. She could see dark clouds gathering in the distance and a westerly wind promised that they would soon be present. Somewhere beyond the visible horizon, thunder rumbled ominous and angry, its source hidden behind an approaching wall of grey and black clouds.
Christina turned left and started walking faster as the rain increased, heading east on Malabar Road toward U.S. 1 and the Intracoastal. She planned to stop at the Jiffy Mart at the corner of Malabar Road and U.S. 1 to buy a pack of cigarettes before walking north into Melbourne. She had not gone far when a small, light-colored car pulled up beside her.
Behind the wheel of the two-door automobile sat a clean-shaven man wearing a stylish, navy-blue sports coat, a black-and-white striped tie, and a nice pair of dress slacks, not the cheap K-Mart kind, but the higher quality cloth and cut of a more fashionable men’s store. The man looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He had loafer style shoes, but he was not wearing them while he drove. Christine thought it slightly odd that the well-dressed man’s bare foot operated the gas and brake pedals, but she gave it no more than a fleeting thought. She had certainly seen much stranger things during her time in Florida. The man’s eyes were concealed behind darkly tinted sunglasses and his face was framed by a mane of medium-length, dirty blonde hair. He had a thin build, and though slightly pale in complexion, his handsome facial features held an undeniable allure. She could not help feeling an attraction to him.
Flashing a broad, inviting smile, he leaned over, rolled down the passenger door window, and greeted her in a friendly, reassuring voice.
“It’s a bit wet today for a walk, isn’t it?” he asked with a wry, disarming smile. “Can I give you a lift?”
Although Christina was initially wary of his invitation, he looked harmless enough and it was the middle of the day in broad daylight in a public place, so she did not wait long before responding.
“Well,” she said, deliberately drawing out her reply as she decided how much to trust the seemingly friendly stranger. “I’m on my way to Melbourne to meet some friends. Are you going anywhere near there?”
“Sure, I have to go that way to get to my office. I just need to stop by my house real quick to pick up a notebook for work, but it’ll only take a minute or two. Go ahead and hop in.”
She hesitated for just a moment, studied her Good Samaritan one last time, and then grabbed the passenger side door handle of the car. As she opened the door, she heard Sting’s new song, “Russians,” playing on the car’s radio.
The country had long since fallen into the depths of the Cold War, and the perpetual threat of nuclear holocaust loomed in the back of most people’s minds like some amorphous boogieman lurking in the shadows. As Christine pulled the door closed, Sting’s voice flowed out of the car’s speakers, echoing what seemed to be the universal mood in America and Western Europe, the growing fear of a nuclear attack by the Russian-controlled Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. The song sought to appeal to the good in what President Reagan dubbed the “Evil Empire,” expressing a desperate hope that the Russian leaders loved their children enough to avoid the horror of a nuclear holocaust.
Suffering from the same state of uneasiness expressed in the song, Christina found herself captivated by the sense of calm that seemed to radiate from the man behind the wheel. They drove for a little while making small talk. While they chatted, she caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes behind his sunglasses. Their azure shade of blue added to the aura of assuredness he projected, and it seemed to Christina that the man’s eyes had the power to peer into her very soul, not in any unsettling way, but in an understanding, comforting manner that disarmed her naturally cautious disposition. He seemed genuinely interested in learning about her, and she was impressed with how articulately he expressed himself. He was charming, witty, and exuded self-confidence, and Christine felt relieved that he seemed to be normal. Some of Von’s friends that she had met were more than a little on the odd side.
After about five minutes, the man turned his car onto a bumpy, dirt road, and then continued on for a few minutes more before exiting onto a gravel driveway obscured by a tall row of hedges. Planted across the inner edge of the yard, the hedges had grown high enough to block a clear view of whatever was behind them. As the car continued down the driveway, a well-kept lawn, dotted sporadically with pine and oak trees, came into view. At the far end of the lawn stood a redbrick, Colonial style house with four white columns framing a large front door painted the same shade of white as the columns. The gravel driveway ended at a double-length carport on the left side of the house. The man pulled into the carport and parked. Two motorcycles stood at the opposite end of the parking area.
“I’ll be right back,” the man told her as he took the key out of the ignition and slipped on his shoes.
He stepped out of the car and walked to the side door of the house, where he paused and glanced back at her.
“Hey, you want to come inside for a drink?”
She smiled politely.
“Oh, no thanks, my friends are expecting me and I don’t want them to worry.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, before unlocking the door and disappearing into the building.
After a few minutes, the man emerged and announced with an embarrassed laugh that the notebook was not in the house after all.
“It must be in the back of the car,” he said, an amused smile spreading across his face as if he had just remembered an irresistibly funny joke.
He walked to the passenger side of the car and opened the door, flashing her the same smug alligator smile. He crawled into the back seat and began looking around, grinning all the while.
Suddenly, the back of Christina’s seat shot forward, slamming her violently against the dashboard. Stunned by the force of the impact and shocked by the unexpected attack, she was barely able to register the sound of something rustling behind her.
Then something brushed against her forehead. Before she could react, her neck jerked back painfully, and she began to choke. Frantically, she reached for her purse, attempting to grab something – anything – to try to defend herself. Her fingers brushed against the top of a can of OFF insect repellant. Desperate, she thought that if she could spray her attacker in his eyes, she might be able to blind him long enough to get away.
But as her fingers closed around the spray can, the man’s voice, angry and powerful, startled her into submission.
Stop it or I’ll kill you!”
As her initial impulse of self-defense gave way to a paralyzing feeling of despair, her hand retreated out of her purse and her arm fell numbly to her side.
Then the rope tightened and everything went black.
***
Excerpt from The Vampire Next Door: The True Story of the Vampire Rapist by JT Hunter. Copyright 2014 by JT Hunter. Reproduced with permission from JT Hunter. All rights reserved.





Author Bio:

J.T. Hunter
J.T. Hunter is an attorney with over fourteen years of experience practicing law, including criminal law and appeals, and he has significant training in criminal investigation techniques. He is also a college professor in Florida where his teaching interests focus on the intersection of criminal psychology, law, and literature.

Catch Up With J.T. Hunter On:

jthunter.org, Goodreads, BookBub, Twitter, Instagram, & Facebook!







Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and giveaways!










ENTER TO WIN!:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for JT Hunter. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on February 1, 2020 and runs through March 2, 2020. Void where prohibited.
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Book Blitz ~ The Resistance - The Union Series by T. H. Hernandez


The Resistance
T.H. Hernandez
(The Union Series, #5)
Publication date: February 25th 2020
Genres: Dystopian, Young Adult
After the Union is invaded by the Uprising, life for Evan and her friends becomes even more dire. If they have any hopes of saving the world they know, they’re going to need help. And it looks like there may be someone already out there trying to accomplish the same thing.
Now living in an encampment in the Ruins, life is hard for most Unis in the Resistance. For Cyrus and the other Ruins survivors, it’s just more of the same.
While they train for their ultimate mission, tragedy strikes, upending everything once again. Complicating their plans, someone in their midst is working against them. Evan, Cyrus, and the rest of the Resistance need to locate reinforcements to help them bring down the Uprising while rooting out the traitor. With trust at an all-time low, no one is above suspicion as danger walks among them.
EXCERPT:
Draya stands in the middle of the holding tent that’s served as her residence the past couple of weeks. Her long wavy hair is piled high on her head in messy disarray as she directs her unblinking stare in my direction. Not for the first time this morning, I regret agreeing to participate. But since Draya and I are the only people in camp who were present during my interrogations, I let the others talk me into it. After all, I’m the one she tortured, the one who admitted to blowing up their camps—which we did do—along with a number of things we didn’t do. And if we didn’t do them, she either she made it up to throw me, or someone else out there is working against the Uprising, meaning we may have allies.
“So…what’s going on?” Draya asks, tilting her head to the side as if we’re inviting her to a picnic.
Mateo’s dark curly hair brushes the ceiling of the squat tent that’s barely tall enough for him to stand upright. A breeze from behind flutters the hem of my shirt, alerting me that the last member of our leadership council has arrived.
“Bring me up to speed,” Jack says.
“We waited for you,” Rainey says, her normally raspy voice even more so at this early hour.
Jack trains his attention on Draya for a few beats, assessing the situation as only a cop can.
Draya crosses her arms as her mouth twists into an arrogant grin. “Anyone care to enlighten me to the purpose of this party?”
“We need information,” I say. “When I was in your…custody, you asked me about attacks on the Uprising.”
Her bright blue eyes hold a defiance, sharp enough to slice through bone.
“I thought you said she was willing to cooperate,” I say to Cyrus, never taking my attention from the enemy before me.
Her head tilts in the other direction. “You haven’t asked me a question yet.”
Rainey moves her five-foot-nothing self forward until she’s in Draya’s personal space. Even without the scar cutting across her cheek to her jaw, she exudes power and authority.
Draya blinks and takes a step back then rolls her eyes. “I doubt I can tell you anything you don’t already know.”
“Let’s start with details of the attacks on the Uprising,” I say.
Her brows nosedive. “You’d have more information on that than me.”
“Just…” I let out a frustrated sigh. “Just tell us what happened from your perspective.”
She snorts and her gaze sweeps the rest of the leadership. “You don’t know, do you? Well, now, isn’t this interesting?”
“Draya,” Cyrus’s warns.
“I said I’d help, and I will, but I want something in exchange.”
Mateo crosses his arms with a relaxed posture that says he’s bored. The way he can project anything he wants is just one of the things that makes him such an important part of our leadership team. After spending years as a mercenary, we were able to recruit him to our cause. “You’re in no position to negotiate.”
Draya taps her finger against her chin. “Oh, I think I am. I have something you want, and I want out of this tent. I’ve been stuck in here for two weeks.”
My body trembles as if the ground beneath my feet is quaking. “Oh really?” The words fly from my mouth coated in the venom of my rage. “Your conditions are rough? How are you managing to get by without all the torture? That must really suck.” Cyrus puts a hand on my shoulder, but I shake him off. “And sleeping on a cot instead of a concrete floor in your own vomit and shit? Wow, that must be nearly intolerable.”
Some of the storm clouds brewing in Draya’s eyes dissipate before her shoulders slump, almost imperceptibly. “Fine. It was little things at first, like supply trucks missing inventory. We thought the drivers were making money on the side. But after investigating…we determined it wasn’t them.”
Investigating my ass. They probably tortured them to the brink of death only to find out they were innocent. Well, innocent of the crimes they were accused of anyway.
“Then a high-ranking Uprising leader disappeared.” Her gaze drifts to Rainey then Cyrus. “But after we’d lost a couple of commanders, it wasn’t completely unexpected. There was talk about the disappearances being connected.” Pressing her lips together, she glances at me. “That’s why I had to push you so hard about Cy’s location. A few days after the camp attacks, the leader’s body was found, throat slit, a hundred miles from where he was last seen.”
I glance up at Cyrus wondering if he knows about this. He gives me a quick shake of his head. “Go on,” he says to Draya.
“We were only days away from striking the Union when the camps were attacked. It was a huge setback, but they’d already placed so many people in the Union that they quickly came up with a backup plan.” She flicks something off her pant leg. “And you know the rest.”
“That’s a lot of superficial information,” Mateo says. “We need dates, locations, a list of everything that was taken from the supply trucks, where the leader was last seen, where he was found…”
Draya’s chin tilts up as a smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I take it you don’t need details on the camp attacks.”
Mateo’s chest expands with each terse breath.
“Didn’t think so,” she mumbles but spends the next couple of hours answering questions. Unfortunately, she doesn’t provide much in the way of concrete details, something we desperately need. If we have any hope of taking down the Uprising, we’re going to need help.



Author Bio:
With flawed strong characters, characters you can relate to, New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author Lorhainne Eckhart writes the kind of books she wants to read. She is frequently a Top 100 bestselling author in multiple genres, and her second book ever published, The Forgotten Child, is no exception. With close to 900 reviews on Amazon, translated into German and French, this book was such a hit that the long running Friessen Family series was born. Now with over sixty titles and multiple series under her belt her big family romance series are loved by fans worldwide. A recipient of the 2013, 2015 and 2016 Readers' Favorite Award for Suspense and Romance, Lorhainne lives on the sunny west-coast Gulf Island of Salt Spring Island, is the mother of three, her oldest has autism and she is an advocate for never giving up on your dreams.

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Book Blitz ~ Where We Belong by Shann McPherson


Where We Belong
Shann McPherson
Published by: HQ Digital
Publication date: February 21st 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
An emotional, compelling page-turner from your next romance obsession, Shann McPherson, about the power of friendship and finding love where you least expect it.
When Alice ‘Murph’ Murphy’s beloved mother died, she promised to keep the family bakery in Graceville, Georgia afloat—even if it meant letting her high-school sweetheart, Nash Harris, go. For years, Murph has been biding her time, waiting for Nash to come back for her.
So when he strolls into Piece O’ Cake, Murph’s heart skips a beat—until he hands her an invitation to his wedding… There are painful secrets in both their pasts that only the two of them share, and Murph can’t bear the thought of Nash belonging to someone else.
There’s only one thing Murph can think of to do: fake a relationship with local bar owner and old friend Harley Shaw to remind Nash of what he’s losing, and win him back for good.
Nash is Murph’s best friend, a vivid reminder of her childhood and all the things she’s lost—but the more time Murph and Harley spend together, the more the lines between real and pretend begin to blur. Can Murph choose between the one who got away and the one who never left—and heal her aching heart?
EXCERPT:
I push my glasses up my nose for the millionth time, and while holding my breath and with one eye narrowed, I wipe a tiny smudge of frosting from the silver turntable holding Mr. and Mrs. Robertson’s fiftieth wedding anniversary cake. It may have taken me two full days and most of last night, but I’ve finally finished. Exhaling the breath I’ve been holding for a beat too long, I take a step back to really appreciate my craftsmanship. Four layers of lemon and blueberry perfection, covered in a fluffy whipped buttercream frosting, decorated with beautiful red roses, delicate peonies, and a smattering of baby’s breath, all of which have been hand-piped by yours truly.
I place a hand on my hip, smiling proudly. “Alice Murphy, once again you’ve outdone yourself,” I whisper under my breath, mentally high-fiving myself.
The bell above the door to the shop jingles, pulling me from my musings, and I walk through from the kitchen to the front of the store, still smiling at the thought of my latest masterpiece.
“Welcome to Piece O’ Cake,” I sing in a cheerful customer service voice. “How can I help yo—” Stopping dead in my tracks, my eyes go wide as I gawp at the unexpected figure standing in the middle of the shop. He’s shadowed by the afternoon sun shining in through the windows, backlighting him to nothing more than a darkened silhouette, and I blink hard, unsure whether or not I’m imagining things. But then he speaks. And I would know that voice anywhere. This is definitely not my imagination playing tricks on me.
“Hey, Murph.” The shadow takes a step forward, coming in to the glow of the overhead lights, and I’m immediately enamored by that all too familiar grin.
“N-Nash?” I gasp.
His smile is bright and those eyes. I’d remember those eyes anywhere after spending such a big part of my life dreaming about them.
“Oh my God!” I scream, covering my mouth with trembling hands until I finally come to, ripping off my apron before practically throwing myself over the counter. Jumping up, I wrap my arms around his neck, and emotion gets the better of me as I stand there in the familiarity of his warm embrace with tears of happiness streaming down my cheeks.
He’s here.
The love of my life.
He’s home.


Author Bio:
With big dreams of being a published author since she was an eleven-year-old girl writing Beverly Hills 90210 fan fiction before fan fiction was even a thing, Shann McPherson has been writing angsty, contemporary romances for most of her thirty-something years.

Living in sunny Queensland, Australia, when she’s not writing Shann enjoys making memories with her husband and cheeky toddler son, drinking wine, and singing completely off-key to One Direction’s entire discography.

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Book Blitz ~ Dangerous - Wicked Hearts by Sara Cate


Dangerous
Sara Cate
(Wicked Hearts, #2)
Publication date: February 25th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Welcome to Wicked Beach…
Murph
They call me dangerous.

Which is fine by me. It keeps everyone out.
Then some new girl walks into my shop and turns everything upside down. It started out physical until she becomes the one person standing between me and the future of my business.
Now this mysterious new girl has me right where she wants me—physically, mentally…and emotionally.
Savannah
I’ve been burned before.

Now I look out for myself.
The last thing I expect is to inherit a tattoo shop run by the world’s scariest—and sexiest—business owner. If I were smart, I would cut him out and use the money to start a new life for myself—one free from the demons in my past.

But Murph’s hard eyes and gentle touch do something to me. It’s like he can see something no one else can, and no matter how hard I try, he won’t let me walk away.

If I want to save myself, I have to ruin him.

And to ruin him feels far more dangerous than what I’m running from.
Dangerous is the second swoon-worthy installment in the Wicked Hearts series. These stories can be read as standalones or together. Warning: this fast-paced romance might leave you breathless and a touch corrupted.
EXCERPT:
“Where do you want it?”
I have to keep my eyes on his face or else they threaten to drift over his shoulders, chest, and that obvious bulge in his jeans.
Where do I want it? I repeat in my mind, and I know I have to answer quickly or else the obvious innuendo of that phrase will fill the already-awkward space between us.
At this point, being in the presence of a man, for the first time in so long—a whispering reminder of the life I used to live, has my body shouting at me to remember what it was like. To feel a man’s touch, his hands on my skin, around my body. Goosebumps erupt along the flesh of my exposed thighs.
“Here,” I choke, my voice breaking. I point to the inside of my upper thigh, just above my knee. It’s a strange place for a tattoo, for sure, but there’s meaning there.
I notice his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. With one eyebrow cocked, his gaze drifts down from my face to the puckered skin just below the hem of my purple cotton sundress. A raised scar roughly the size of a dollar and shaped like a fish hook catches his attention. I can see the questions on his face as the room grows silent.
Operation scars look different from violent scars. Violent scars are not methodical or neat. They are erratic, loud, and almost weep with memory. This scar, from the broken window of a four-door sedan eight feet under water tells a story that I don’t want in my book anymore. I want it covered.
I break the silence, luring his eyes back to my face and not my open legs. “I know it’s difficult to tattoo scars—I’ve done my research, but I want this covered. Is that…possible?” My voice shakes, giving away my nerves.
He clears his throat. “I can do that.”
Then, he leans forward. With just the expression on his face, he asks to touch it. I nod in return. The fingers of his right hand reach forward, and methodically, as if he’s inspecting the spot, he grazes the raised bump between my knees.
Having gone so long without another person’s touch anywhere below my belly button, I jump from the contact. His eyes meet mine. Then, he goes back to rubbing his thumb over the scar, and I feel my pulse quicken, my breath coming out in short spurts as if someone has crushed my lungs and won’t let me breathe.
I know he’s touching it for the purpose of the tattoo, but I watch the way he bites his lip, and I can tell it’s just as unnerving for him as it is for me. He swallows again. The room is deliciously silent, and this chemistry between us has changed. It’s dangerously close to something more than just a tattoo artist and his client.


Author Bio:
Sara Cate writes contemporary romance about bikers, bad boys, hunks, and softies--all rolled into one. She has a soft spot for redemption stories and forbidden romance.

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Book Blitz ~ Reaper Academy by Allison West


Reaper Academy
Allison West
Publication date: February 20th 2020
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
The professor should be off-limits. But he’s hot. And I’m a bad girl. Lucky for me, he doesn’t play by the rules. Neither do I.
I used to be a princess; that was before I was murdered.
The reaper who took my soul. He’s my professor. And, well, the experience of taking a soul is quite… pleasurable. He wants me. I crave him. It’s against the rules, but do either of us care?
Publisher’s Note: This paranormal thriller contains graphic scenes.
EXCERPT:
“I’m not going anywhere.” Was he really going to spank her? Spankings were for children. Leila was an adult. Hell, she was dead and was a grim reaper. Is this how they kept each other in line and from breaking the rules?
She hadn’t budged an inch.
“If I have to put you over my knee, it will double your allotment of spankings.”
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and the room sweltered. Was it hot in here or was it just her? “Please, Wynter. I promise I won’t do it again.”
“You’re right, you won’t. I’m going to teach you right from wrong, my little Leila. Good girls listen and do as they’re told. Bad girls face a wrath of punishments. Spankings, my little Leila, are just the beginning.”
“Wynter, what if Emblyn or Violetta come out from their room?” She did not wish to see her grim reaper friends pay witness to her punishment. Leila didn’t dare ask whether Wynter or Jasper dished out such discipline to the other girls on occasion.
He merely shrugged and reached for Leila as she had yet to come closer. His strong grip pulled her down over and across his knee, lifting her dress to reveal her panties underneath.
“These are of no use right now,” he said, using one hand to slide the undergarments down her thighs and to her feet.
She felt humiliated being bent over his lap. He could see her bottom and possibly even her cunny as it began to throb with a ferocious intensity. How was being in this position, exposed and vulnerable, arousing her? Perhaps it had to do more with it being Wynter, taking control, disciplining her.
Without warning, his hand came down, spanking her plush bottom, forcing her to jump and her cheeks to clench with a hiss. The pain stung right through to her lips down below, forcing a further ache and wetness to seep out uncontrollably. With her face bent down to the ground, she was grateful she didn’t have to look at him.



Author Bio:
Allison West is a #1 International Best-Selling Author in Erotica, BDSM, Romantic Erotica, Sci-Fi, Victorian, and Historical Erotica. She also writes young adult novels under the name Ruth Silver.
Allison West has been inventing worlds and writing stories for years. Her favorite novels are those that leave a lasting impression, long after the final page is read. You can find more about Allison on Facebook, Twitter, and her blog "Spanking Author." http://spankingauthor.com

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Release Blitz ~ Path of the Spirit Runner - Rootstock Saga by L. H. Leonard





Rootstock Saga, Book 2
Epic Fantasy
Date Published: February 29, 2020
Publisher: Each Voice Publishing

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Gifted or cursed? Isobel is a healer, and the Hawks who accepted her, broken and different as she was, need her help. But she must hide the truth behind her healing power. She is an empath.

John Deighton, The Prophet, is back in Innis and stoking the embers of bigotry and superstition, scouring the realm and imprisoning mindgifted Aurels. When he corners Isobel, will she fight back or succumb to her old fears and lingering scars of the Beast of Monaughty? Will she answer the call of a healer if it costs her everything she loves?

Far across the sea, Tobias Buchanan is racing against time to build New Rhynn as a haven for his clan. As the noose of oppression squeezes tighter in Innis, the Hawks may soon be forced to choose between their homeland and their way of life. Can he earn a place for his Hawks amongst the Este of Tallu? Can he prove Rhynns are worthy of their trust?

Meanwhile, the Este are discovering their own place in the Awakening and the Joining. Spirit runners grow more powerful by the year, and the Mists hover closer over Tallu. But will it be enough when the water rises? Will they be ready before the cycle ends?

Path of the Spirit Runner is the enthralling continuation of the Rootstock Saga. Evolution and oppression. Magical mindgifts and dragon science. The characters you loved in Legend of the Storm Hawks come of age and weave their own threads in the Patterns.

Other Books in the Rootstock Saga Series:


Legend of the Storm Hawks
Rootstock Saga, Book 1
Publisher: Each Voice Publishing
Published: January 2020

Someday soon, your world will end. Ending is not as final as it sounds. Our world has ended before. When it does, be patient. Those of your time will linger and watch new cycles unfold. Some will walk this spinning blue rock again. A few will shape its destiny.

Get lost in the story. The richly detailed fantasy adventure you've been looking for is here. Stunning world-building. Sweeping cast of unforgettable characters. A riveting saga of the magic evolving in us all. Perfect for fans of George R. R. Martin, Brent Weeks, and Brandon Sanderson.

Legend of the Storm Hawks introduces the Rootstock Saga, four novels all due to release in 2020. Not a light read, this is serious fantasy for serious fantasy fans. Set on a future Earth, our own history echoes from the shadows. Adversity awakens gifts in this tale of evolution and survival. Science meets fantasy in a burgeoning of psychic and psionic power, and the mindgifted struggle with bigotry, abuse, theocracy, gender roles, climate change, and the temptations of power and privilege. Their intricately interwoven POV voices and plots converge in a long, rewarding end game.

A master player convinces the pawn the move is its own. Nigel has been at the game longer than most, but lately the pawns keep turning into rogue knights. It’s damned inconvenient of them, considering the world is about to end again.

The Watchers will soon declare this cycle over, as they have so many cycles before, shrugging off yet another rise and fall of humankind, and giving the dragons another turn at dominion.

Brynmohr is King of the Firstborn, and Twelvestones is the last bastion of a once-mighty nene dynasty. As the first people to walk the earth, the Firstborn consider it their birthright to rule over mankind. Half-breeds between their kinds are always sterile, but the daughters born of Brynmohr’s irrational affection for a woman are defying the Patterns.

Sethlyan and Isobel are unaware they’re expendable pawns in an increasingly complex game. Seth is the second son of the Second of Aleron. He’s tired of hearing rumors he and his friends are the prophesied Storm Hawks, destined to free Rhynn from centuries of oppression. He knows better. So does the Other, the voice only he can hear.

Isobel survived the Beast of Monaughty. Her father is dead, but his brutality haunts her. When her brother, the Rhi’Iverach, forges an alliance with the Hawks of Aleron, Isobel finds herself promised to a stranger named Sethlyan.

Her trust is hard to earn. His is hard to give.

A deadly attack leaves them with a telepathic bond neither wants, and awakens mindgifts they struggle to accept. When rebellion brings Nigel and his charges to the precipice of war, they must choose between hiding their secrets or wielding their power, fighting their oppressors or sacrificing freedom for peace.

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About the Author




L.H. Leonard writes epic fantasy because she prefers imaginary worlds to dysfunctional real ones. She's been a technologist (computer geek and manager thereof) in the financial and media industries for most of her career, and sidelines as micro-publisher Each Voice Publishing. When getting paid doesn't matter, she's an animal rescuer, artist, almost-master gardener, and a surprisingly good cook.

She and her husband live happily ever after in Georgia, where their forever home is a short trek from the Chattahoochee River through woods filled with deer, coyotes, owls, the occasional bear, and of course, hawks.

Their progeny are creative individualists, the eldest of whom has given them a small tribe of grandchildren. They're the real Children of Promise.


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