Sunday, May 31, 2020

Book Tour & Giveaway ~ Grace's Ghosts by Stephenie Wilson Peterson


Grace's Ghosts 
by Stephenie Wilson Peterson 
Genre: Middle Grade Fantasy 


Twelve-year-old Grace and her feline best friend, Midnight, have a secret: Midnight is a ghost. But then again, so are the rest of Graces' friends. 

Since she's the only person in hundreds of years with the ability to see them, the many ghosts of Tansy have flocked to Grace since birth. She doesn't mind. She prefers the company of the dead to that of the cliquey kids at school. 

Grace is happy with her strange life, until one day, the ghosts tell her about the secret her town has hidden for centuries. There's a reason there are more ghosts than living people in Tansy. Three-hundred years ago, a lonely witch cast a spell that mistakenly trapped the soul of every person to ever set foot in the tiny town. So when the spirits beg her to find a way to break the curse, Grace is eager to help.
As she searches for answers, Grace makes discoveries about the secret her family hid for generations and a world of magic hidden in her own backyard. 

Grace soon realizes that if she succeeds in breaking the curse, she'll lose Midnight and all of her ghost friends, but if she fails, everyone living in Tansy will face the same fate. Can Grace break the curse before it's too late? 





Book Trailer






Semi-nomadic, Stephenie and her family currently live near Raleigh, North Carolina. Her kids are Texans at heart and Stephenie and her husband grew up just outside of Seattle. Stephenie writes, creates art, and homeschools her three amazing kids. Stephenie loves to hike with her family and drink lots and lots of coffee. 




$25 Amazon gift card 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!




Book Tour & Giveaway ~ Blood Numbers by C. F. Kreitzer


Blood Numbers 
by C.F. Kreitzer 
Genre: YA Dystopian 


There are only two kinds of people left on the earth: Donors and Recipients.

Sixteen-year-old Aston Vazeto hates the idea of selling her blood for money and is determined to be the first Donor in New World history to never donate.

But after a suspicious accident at her father's power plant leaves her family diving deeper into poverty, Aston has no other choice except to enter the annual blood auctions, where Recipients bid on the richest blood. With the highest test results ever seen, Aston’s blood becomes the most sought-after in history, and will likely bring a large price at auctions.

When her friends are caught tampering with their donations, they are arrested and tortured. Knowing she puts her family's safety and income at risk Aston takes advantage of an opportunity to escape donation facility drugs meant to keep Donors complacent. Free to feel and free to love she is caught between Gannet, a kind facility technician, and Marcus, a sarcastic rebel like herself. Dancing at Blood Auction Balls and kissing a donor in coat closets under the stairs has Aston confused between joining the uprising she hears rumors about or merely following the life her blood was meant to lead. 





Book Trailer:

https://youtu.be/TY32Ta-3wdo






I grew up with a pretty normal childhood, running barefoot in the Appalachian mountains, playing with turtles and innocently killing them by leaving them on their backs so I could play house with them again the next day. I don't think I always dreamed of being an author. It was just something I did. I made up stories about my dead turtles. I named my fingers and let them battle out family feuds. I wrote about myself in my journal when what I wished would happen was better than what actually did (sorry, Mom for the scare. I still promise I never really snuck over to a party and kissed my brothers friend). What a wonderful surprise when something "I just did" suddenly became something others enjoyed. I'm so forever grateful to my publisher for giving me a chance to share my not-so-normal stories with the whole world. 




Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!







Book Tour ~ The Last Scoop - A Clare Carlson Mystery by R. G. Belsky

 

 

The Last Scoop

by R.G. Belsky

on Tour May 1-31, 2020

Synopsis:

The Last Scoop by R.G. Belsky


Martin Barlow was Clare Carlson’s first newspaper editor, a beloved mentor who inspired her career as a journalist. But, since retiring from his newspaper job, he had become a kind of pathetic figure—railing on about conspiracies, cover-ups, and other imaginary stories he was still working on. Clare had been too busy with her own career to pay much attention to him. When Martin Barlow is killed on the street one night during an apparent mugging attempt gone bad, it seems like he was just an old man whose time had come. But Clare—initially out of a sense of guilt for ignoring her old friend and then because of her own journalistic instincts—begins looking into his last story idea. As she digs deeper and deeper into his secret files, she uncovers shocking evidence of a serial killer worse than Son of Sam, Ted Bundy, or any of the other infamous names in history. This really is the biggest story of Martin Barlow’s career—and Clare’s, too—as she uncovers the path leading to the decades-long killer of at least twenty young women. All is not as it seems during Clare’s relentless search for this serial killer. Is she setting herself up to be his next victim?


Book Details:

Genre: Mystery

Published by: Oceanview Publishing

Publication Date: May 5th 2020

Number of Pages: 368

ISBN: 1608093573 (ISBN13: 9781608093571)

Series: Clare Carlson #3

Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads



Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER 1

I was sitting in my office at Channel 10 News, drinking black coffee and skimming through the morning papers when I saw the article about Marty Barlow.
It was a brief item about the murder of a man on an East Side New York City street. It identified the victim as Martin Barlow. It also said that Barlow was a retired journalist. It did not say Barlow was the first—and probably the best—newspaper editor I ever had.
The police reported that he'd died from a blow to the head. Apparently, from a solid object, although the object itself was never found. Cops first assumed it had been a mugging, but later backed off that a bit because his wallet wasn't taken. Instead, it just seemed—at least on the face of it—to be one of those crazy, senseless crimes that happen too often in New York City.
The article never mentioned Marty’s age—he refused to ever tell it to anyone—but I figured he must be well up in his sixties by now. He was a frail-looking man. He had disheveled white hair, pasty-looking skin and he couldn't have weighed more than 150 pounds. He always wore the same old wrinkled suit that looked like it had last been cleaned during the Reagan administration.
But more than twenty years ago, when I was starting out at a newspaper in New Jersey, Marty Barlow had helped me become the journalist that I am today. He was my editor, my mentor and my friend.
Barlow was a grizzled old veteran even back then, and I soaked up every bit of knowledge and wisdom I could from him. He taught me how to cover police stories, political scandals, and human-interest features. “Never turn down an animal story,” was one of his mantras. “People love animal stories!” But mostly, he taught me what a noble calling it was to be a newspaper reporter—and about all the integrity and responsibility that went with it. His favorite quotation was from an old Humphrey Bogart movie where Bogey played a managing editor talking about the job of being a newspaper reporter: “It may not be the oldest profession, but it's the best."
I moved on eventually to a bigger newspaper job in New York City where I had a career filled with pretty spectacular moments. I won a Pulitzer prize by the time I was thirty, I scored a lot of other big exclusives and front-page stories for the paper, and became a big media star because of all that. Then the newspaper I worked for went out of business, and I moved into TV. After a few false starts there—mostly finding out that I wasn’t very good as an on-air TV reporter—I wound up on the executive side of the business. First as a segment producer, then an assignment editor and now as news director of the whole Channel 10 operation. Along the way, I found the time to get married—and divorced—three different times, too.
Marty had helped me get through the highs and lows in my life—both professional and personal—over the years. He was always there for me. He always supported me and took my side in everything. Well, almost everything. Everything except the marriage stuff. Marty could never understand why I couldn’t make my marriages work. “Why don’t you find one man, the right man, and settle down with him for the rest of your life?” That’s what Marty said he had done with his wife. “It’s not that easy,” I told him. “Sure, it is,” he said. “You make sure your marriage is as important to you as your job in the newsroom. Then the rest will take care of itself.” It was good advice from Marty, even though I didn’t always follow it.
Marty stayed on as editor of the same New Jersey paper where we’d met, doing the job he loved, until he was pushed into retirement a few years ago. At some point after that his wife died, and he came to live with his daughter in Manhattan. Even after he retired though, Marty became very active in local political and community events. He started a website that skewered local politicians and demanded more accountability/public disclosure in New York City government. Then he became a kind of local gadfly—showing up at town hall and council meetings to demand answers from politicians. That was Marty. Still looking for his next big scoop even after he retired.
We'd kept in touch and he was always asking me to meet him for coffee, but I hardly ever got around to it. Or to checking out any of the various news tips and leads he kept sending me. I never could find time for Marty Barlow anymore.
Until that last day when he showed up in my office.
***
“Hello, Marty, how are you doing?” I said. “Sorry I never got back to you on your calls and emails before. I've been busy covering a bunch of stuff."
"Yeah, probably a big, breaking Justin Bieber news story, huh?" Barlow said, without even attempting to hide the contempt in his voice.
I sighed. Marty Barlow was an old-fashioned journalist who believed the news media should cover serious topics like politics, schools, and government waste the way newspapers had traditionally done in the past. But now newspapers were dying off as people turned to the internet to give them instant news. And TV newscasts, including Channel 10 where I worked, focused even more these days on glitzy celebrity news, viral videos, and all the rest of the gimmicks known online as “traffic bait” in order to increase our all-important ratings and sales. Marty hated that. I wasn't wild about it either, but I had no choice in the rapidly-changing journalistic landscape.
“This time the big story was Kim Kardashian,” I said.
“You're kidding, right?"
“I'm kidding."
“Good."
“Actually, it was Khloe.”
“My God, what happened to you, Clarissa? The Clarissa Carlson I remember cared passionately about the stories she covered. She wanted to make a difference in the world with her journalism. I miss that woman."
Fake news is what Marty called it. Yes, I know that term has a whole different meaning in today’s political world. But Marty had been using it long before that. For Marty, fake news encompassed pretty much everything on TV news or in newspapers or on news websites today. He didn’t just mean the celebrity news, either. He was contemptuous of the constant traffic reports, weather updates, lottery news, and all the rest of the things I did for a living. He complained that there was hardly any real journalism now. He was right. But the journalistic world had changed dramatically in recent years, even if Marty refused to change with it.
He sat down in a chair in front of my desk.
“So, Clarissa . . .”
“Clare.”
“What?”
“My name is Clare, not Clarissa.”
This was a ritual we had played out many times over the years. Yes, my full name is Clarissa Carlson, but I always use Clare. Have ever since I was a kid and decided how much I hated being called Clarissa. Everyone knew that. Friends, family, co-workers, even my ex-husbands never called me anything but Clare. Except for Marty. He insisted on calling me Clarissa. I never understood exactly why, but it had gone on for so long between us that it didn’t seem worth bothering to ask anymore.
I figured he wasn’t here for a social visit. That he came because he needed my help. Some big scoop he thought he was going to break, even though his days of breaking big scoops had long past. Marty always got very intense when he was working on a story, and this time he seemed even more intense than usual. I asked him what was going on.
“I’m working on a big story,” he said. “The biggest story of my life. And it’s all because I started taking a good look at one person.”

I nodded and tried to think of an appropriate response.
“Who?” I asked.
It was the best I could come up with.
“Terri Hartwell.”
“Hartwell?”
“Yes, the Manhattan District Attorney.”
I nodded again. Terri Hartwell was the darling of the New York City media and political world at the moment. She’d been a top-rated radio talk show host in New York for a number of years before she ran for the District Attorney’s job—and surprised political experts by unseating the incumbent. Since then, she’d aggressively gone after crime, corruption and all sorts of entrenched special interests in the city. Which made her a lot of enemies, but also made her popular with the voters. She was even being touted now as a potential candidate for Mayor.
“I started out thinking this was a story about building corruption. Illegal payoffs to politicians and authorities by wealthy New York City landlords. But now it’s bigger than that. Much bigger. There’s murder involved too.”
“Murder?”
“More than one murder. Maybe lots of them.”
I nodded again. Pretty soon I was going to have to stop nodding and ask more than one-word questions.
“Who is being murdered? And what does any of this have to do with Terri Hartwell?”
Now I was rolling.
“I can’t tell you any more details. Not yet. I’m still trying to figure it all out myself. But this is a sensational story. More sensational than any story I’ve ever covered. And I have to stop whatever is happening before it’s too late!”
Marty was getting really agitated now, pounding on my desk for emphasis.

A lock of white hair had fallen over his forehead and his eyes were blazing. He frankly looked insane.
“Who’s your source on all this, Marty?” I asked.
“I can’t tell you my source, Clarissa. You know that.”
“Is it a good source?”
“All of my sources are good!” he thundered at me.
He was right about that. All of Marty’s sources were good. Or at least they always had been in the past. But I wasn’t so sure how much I could trust them—or Marty himself—at this point. I didn’t think he was lying. Not intentionally anyway. Marty never lied to anyone, most of all to me. But I did suspect his desperation to get back into journalism in some meaningful way—to prove he wasn’t finished in the news business, no matter how much it had passed him by in recent years—had distorted his judgement and his connections with . . . well, reality.
“Will you help me? Give me a few days to get all the details together, and then I’ll tell you everything. You’re the head of a big news operation now. You have resources I don’t at your disposal. Maybe we could work on this story together. You and me, Clarissa. Just like the old days.”
Mostly because I didn’t know what else to do, I told Marty I’d get back to him about it. I told him we’d get together for coffee—like he’d asked me to do so many times—to go over the details of his story and maybe reminisce a bit about old times too. I told Marty I’d call him the next week and we’d meet up at the Sunrise Coffee Shop on the Upper East Side, which was his favorite place.
Except I never did meet Marty Barlow at the Sunrise Coffee Shop the next week.
Or any time after that.
I never got around to calling him back.
I thought about all that again now as I read the article about Marty Barlow’s death. “Maybe we could work on this story together,” Marty had said. “You and me, Clarissa. Just like the old days.” I didn’t have the heart to tell Marty those days were long over.
***
My boss was Jack Faron, the executive producer for the Channel 10 News. I went to see him now.
“Problem?” he asked when I walked in the door of his office.
“What makes you think I have a problem?”
“Because you never come to see me this early in the morning unless it’s about a problem.”
“My God, whatever happened to the simple courtesy of saying good morning to the people you work with? What is wrong with us as a society, Jack? Have we lost all civility in this day and age? Why can’t you greet me one time with a cheerful: ‘Good morning, Clare. How are you today?’”
“Good morning, Clare,” Faron said. “How are you today?”
“Actually, I have a problem.”
I showed him the short newspaper article about the death of Marty Barlow and told him about my relationship with Barlow.
“What do you think about us doing something on the news tonight about his murder?” I asked. “I feel like I owe him at least that much.”
Faron made a face. “Not our kind of story, Clare. There’s no celebrity or sensational angle, no pizzazz, no ratings of any kind there for us. I’m sorry your friend got killed. I understand he meant a lot to you. But that doesn’t meet the criteria for getting a story about him on our newscast. You already knew that before you even came in here, didn’t you?”
I did. I was feeling guilty because I’d let Marty down at the end. And I didn’t need another thing to feel guilty about right now. Marty was like family to me. And I had no other family. Well, I did, but that was the other thing I was feeling so guilty about. I’ve screwed up a lot of things in my life.
“Kind of ironic, isn’t it?” I said. “A guy like Marty devotes his life to the news business. And now, when he dies, he doesn’t even rate a meaningful goodbye in what the news business has become today. It makes me sad. And yes, guilty, too, that I couldn’t do more for him, after everything he did for me.”
“He was an old man,” Faron said. “He died. There’s no story there.”
***
Excerpt from The Last Scoop by R.G. Belsky. Copyright 2020 by R.G. Belsky. Reproduced with permission from R.G. Belsky. All rights reserved.





Author Bio:

R.G. Belsky
R. G. Belsky is an author of crime fiction and a journalist in New York City. His newest mystery, Below The Fold, was published in May 2019 by Oceanview. It is the second in a series featuring Clare Carlson, the news director for a New York City TV station. The first Clare Carlson book, YESTERDAY'S NEWS, came out in 2018. It won the David Award at Deadly Ink for Best Mystery of 2018. Belsky previously wrote the Gil Malloy series – THE KENNEDY CONNECTION, SHOOTING FOR THE STARS AND BLONDE ICE – about a newspaper reporter at the New York Daily News. Belsky himself is a former managing editor at the Daily News and writes about the media from an extensive background in newspapers, magazines and TV/digital news. He has also been a top editor at the New York Post, Star magazine and NBC News. Belsky won the Claymore Award at Killer Nashville in 2016. He has finished several times as a Finalist for both the Silver Falchion and David Awards. YESTERDAY'S NEWS, was also named Outstanding Crime/News Based Novel by Just Reviews in 2018 and was a Finalist for Best Mystery of 2018 in the Foreword INDIES Awards. His previous suspense/thriller novels include LOVERBOY and PLAYING DEAD. Belsky lives in New York City.

Catch Up With R.G. Belsky On:

RGBelsky.com, Goodreads, BookBub, Instagram, Twitter, & Facebook!






Tour Participants:

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Enter the Giveaway!!:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for R.G. Belsky. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on May 1, 2020 and runs through June 2, 2020. Void where prohibited.
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Blog Tour ~ Miranda and the D-Day Caper by Shelly Frome

Miranda and the D-Day Caper

by Shelly Frome

on Tour May 1-31 2020

Synopsis:

Miranda and the D-Day Caper by Shelly Frome

A modern day mystery with WWII tactics, old-time heroes and values, and the efforts of two amateur cousin sleuths from the Heartland.



On a sparkling spring morning in the Blue Ridge, small-town realtor Miranda Davis approached the tailgate market, intent on dealing with her whimsical cousin Skip’s unexpected arrival from New York. It turns out that Skip was on the run and, in his panic, grabbed his beloved tabby Duffy, recalling that Miranda had a recent part in solving a case down in Carolina. His predicament stemmed from intercepting code messages like “Countdown to D-Day,” playfully broadcasting the messages on his radio show over the nation-wide network, and subsequently forced to flee.



At first, Miranda tried to limit her old childhood companion’s conundrum to the sudden abduction of Duffy the cat. But the forces that be were hell-bent on keeping Skip under wraps by any means after he now stumbled close to the site of their master plan. Miranda’s subsequent efforts to decipher the conspiracy and somehow intervene placed both herself and her old playmate on a collision course with a white-nationalist perpetrator and the continuing machinations of the right-wing enterprise, with the lives of all those gathered for a diversity celebration in nearby Asheville and a crucial senatorial vote on homeland security hanging in the balance.


Book Details:

Genre: Cozy Mystery

Published by: BQB Publishing

Publication Date: March 1st 2020

Number of Pages: 338

ISBN: 1945448571 (ISBN13: 9781945448577)

Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads



Read an excerpt:

“Okay, I get it,” said Miranda, assuming it was playtime as always. “We’re double agents. You keep reading the paper and light a cigarette. A minute later, you toss the cigarette and leave the book of matches on the table with the coded inscription Moscow rules. That’s when I take it and slip away awaiting further instructions.”
This was flippant Miranda. The one with the short bob, over thirty, just trying to set the tone on this glorious Saturday in the Blue Ridge and ease out of it. But at the moment, playful Skip seemed to have lost his way. His eyes were bloodshot, underscored by dark circles. And the signature mischievous smirk on that sliver of a face had been replaced by a worrisome twitch.
Folding the newspaper, with his cornflower blue eyes still gazing into the distance, Skip said, “I don’t know, kiddo. I tell you, I just don’t know.”
“Which makes two of us. So tell me why you couldn’t simply e-mail me?”
“Why? Am I holding you up or something?”
“No, you’re not holding me up. Look, what do you say we cut to the chase? Glancing around, taking his sweet time, making sure no one was within earshot, Skip said, “All right.”
“From the top.”
“Okay. Like I indicated, I was filling in, got a break on a prestige AM station.”
Getting more anxious by the second, his lanky body beginning to twitch, Skip said, “So, when opportunity knocks, you seize the day. Right?”
“Out with it. I am still waiting.”
Scrunching forward this time, Skip said, “One night I started to wing it. No more of this ‘Yup, it’s midnight, folks. Some of these homespun Indiana tales should ease you right off to sleep.’ I was antsy. I’d had it with Russ Mathews who’d signed off that night right before me, sounding more and more like some fear monger back in the day.”
“And what day was that?”
“World War Two.”
More glancing around on Skip’s part. More checking the flow of visitors coming and going.
Getting antsy as well, Miranda said, “Will you get on with it? Is there an upshot in our future? ”
“I’m coming to it,” Skip said, looking right at her this time. “Right after my kazoo rendition of I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash, I lean into the mic and say, ‘Guess what? Ole Russ Mathews must be on to something. I’m talking the plot against America. So I tell the insomniacs all over the Liberty Broadcasting system that, at first, I thought Duffy was pulling down on the blinds out of longing.”
“Duffy?”
“Just your average ginger house cat, left alone, separated from other felines on the prowl. But I come home to my sublet and notice he’s perched in the exact same spot, his green eyes staring across the street. So, over the airwaves, I said, ‘What if I told you night people something was up in a dilapidated rooming house in Hoboken? Right across the river from the Big Apple?’” “That does it,” Miranda said, getting to her feet. “How am I supposed to follow this? When you’re ready to get to the point, let me know.”
“Wait a minute. Don’t you see?” said Skip, getting to his feet as well. “I stumbled onto something. Before you know it, my ratings are starting to climb. But since the weather’s getting warmer, those guys across the street aren’t scurrying in and out of the cold. They’re loitering by the stoop, glancing across the shadows. Next thing I know, I’m getting negative call-ins. Listeners telling me to knock it off or else. Undaunted, I tell everyone in radio-land what’s going on out there may have far reaching consequences. Unless I intercept.”
“Oh, please,” said Miranda, walking away. “Listen to me.” Skip scurried over and held her arm. “I tell you, at the same time, those guys across the street were carting off concealed stuff.”
“I’m not listening anymore.”
“You’ve got to. You have obviously become a born tracker. Tracked down a poison pen perpetrator like the paper said.”
“Enough. Stop hyping everything up. Look at you. You’re coming down with full blown hysteria.”
“Exactly. Because it appears there’s no longer any line between entertainment and politics. While messing around, doing a take-off on Russ Mathews and boosting my ratings, I may have stumbled onto an actual plot utilizing WW II codes.”
***
Excerpt from Miranda and the D-Day Caper by Shelly Frome. Copyright 2020 by Shelly Frome. Reproduced with permission from Shelly Frome. All rights reserved.





Author Bio:

Shelly Frome
Shelly Frome is a member of Mystery Writers of America, a professor of dramatic arts emeritus at the University of Connecticut, a former professional actor, a writer of crime novels and books on theater and film. He is also a features writer for Gannett Media’s Black Mountain News. His fiction includes Sun Dance for Andy Horn, Lilac Moon, Twilight of the Drifter, Tinseltown Riff, Murder Run, Moon Games and The Secluded Village Murders. Among his works of non-fiction are The Actors Studio and texts on the art and craft of screenwriting and writing for the stage. Miranda and the D-Day Caper is his latest foray into the world of crime and the amateur sleuth. He lives in Black Mountain, North Carolina.

Catch Up With Shelly Frome:

ShellyFrome.com, Goodreads, BookBub, Instagram, Twitter, & Facebook!






Tour Participants:

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










Giveaway!!:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Shelly Frome. There will be 2 winners of one (1) Amazon.com Gift Card each. The giveaway begins on May 1, 2020 and runs through June 2, 2020. Void where prohibited.
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Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Virtual Book Tours

 


Book Tour ~ Dragon Head by James Houston Turner

Dragon Head by James Houston Turner Banner

 

 

Dragon Head

by James Houston Turner

on Tour May 1-31, 2020

Synopsis:

Dragon Head by James Houston Turner

“TURNER BARELY PAUSES FOR BREATH IN THIS EXCITING THRILL RIDE.”

--Publisher’s Weekly



One-and-a-half billion dollars vanishes out of a numbered account into a cyberspace maze. But the thief who stole it lies dead on the tracks of Hong Kong’s Mass Transit Railway, his access codes having perished with him.




If it were simply a matter of missing money, the United States would not be concerned. But a Hong Kong crime boss named Dragon Head wants the money to fund an army of hackers, one of whom has already penetrated America’s GPS network. The result: a midair collision that kills more than a thousand people.




With national security at stake, the Director of National Intelligence becomes very interested in the whereabouts of that money. He wants the funds to remain lost. But Dragon Head wants them found. And Colonel Aleksandr Talanov is caught in the middle.




Both sides believe Talanov knows where the money is. But Talanov doesn’t have a clue. So both sides threaten to kill his closest friends unless he locates and surrenders the money. It’s an impossible situation when impossible is not an option, because whatever choice Talanov makes, someone will die.


“Snappy dialogue … humor and heart … scenes crackling with life as Talanov races against the clock in this complex spy thriller that delivers charm and thrills.”

--John M. Murray, Foreword Reviews

“Dragon Head is an explosive story packed with plenty of action and excitement. Like all good spy stories, it’s unclear exactly what everyone is up to and who can actually be trusted. Facing threats on all sides, Talanov is a great hero to follow, tough and quick to dive into the action, but also smart and more than capable of outmaneuvering his enemies. Dragon Head is an exhilarating story that tackles contemporary issues … a top-notch thriller.”

--Erin Britton, The Manhattan Book Review

Book Details:

Genre: Action Thriller

Published by: Regis Books

Publication Date: May 1, 2020

Number of Pages:

ISBN: 978-0958666497

Series: Aleksandr Talanov Thriller #4

Purchase Links: Amazon, Goodreads



Read an excerpt:

CHAPTER 1
Wu Chee Ming looked anxiously behind him. Where were they? Who were they? When would they strike? An attack in a crowded street like this would be over in seconds. A silenced pistol. A knife. A needle. Death would be quick and the assassin would vanish. One face in an ocean of faces.
He was not even sure they were onto him. In fact, they probably weren’t. He had taken extreme care over the last few months to make sure his movements went undetected.
One does not seek what one does not see.
It was a proverb that guided his every move.
And yet, in spite of his meticulous planning, he had to proceed as if they had noticed, which was why he had chosen Lan Kwai Fong, a small, bustling tourist district in the heart of Hong Kong, to make his escape. The narrow streets of Lan Kwai Fong were perfect for what he was planning. Flashing neon. Music. Thousands of people surging in and out of nightclubs and restaurants. The perfect place to disappear.
The perfect place to be killed.
The proverb, however, held the secret to his survival; namely, that the best place to hide is often in plain sight. That people usually do not notice what is right in front of them. Hence, his choice to pass through Lan Kwai Fong each night on his way home from work, so his being here tonight would not attract any undue attention.
Suddenly, an elbow caught him in the chest and knocked him into a group of Chinese girls texting one another. They were holding their phones so close their eyes glistened with light from the tiny screens.
“Kàn tā!” one of them barked.
Wu Chee Ming pushed on.
Ahead, the street bent ninety degrees and sloped downhill for a short block before meeting D’Aguilar Street. Wu Chee Ming turned at the corner and threaded his way uphill along another street filled with partygoers. Within minutes, he reached a short flight of steps that branched away from the street. Taking the steps two at a time, he reached the top and began running along a darkened walkway that angled between a pair of highrise office towers. Before long, the sounds and smells of Lan Kwai Fong had receded into the distance.
Wu Chee Ming knew he would miss those sounds and smells. But at least he would be alive to remember them. He glanced behind but saw no one.
One does not seek what one does not see.
His survival hinged on the truth of that proverb, and yet if he truly believed it, why was he running? Why was he not relaxed in the knowledge that he was but another face in an ocean of faces?
Under normal conditions, Hong Kong was the perfect city in which to vanish. But these were not normal conditions. He was running from a crime boss who knew every inch of the island. A crime boss with eyes and ears everywhere. A crime boss so skilled in the art of death that some people considered it an honor to die by his hand. Dexter Moran was his name, although no one dared address him that way. To everyone in Hong Kong and the New Territories, he was known as Dragon Head, and he was the supreme leader of the Shí bèi organized crime society, which was based in the Zhongzhen Martial Arts Academy.
The name “Dragon Head” was actually a title that had been seized by Moran in the same manner a lion becomes the alpha male of his pride: by defeating or killing his rivals. And not just known rivals, but anyone suspected of being a threat. Which was why Wu Chee Ming had chosen to run. He wanted to make sure he was not among them.
Ahead, beside a tree, was an old bicycle. Wu Chee Ming had purchased it from a repair shop with instructions that it be placed beside the tree this afternoon. It had a basket above the front fender and a tiny dome bell on the handlebar. Lifting the bike onto the path, Wu Chee Ming walked it to an intersecting walkway, where he turned left, jumped on, and began pedaling. In less than a minute he emerged onto a busy street.
Like New York, Hong Kong was a city that never slept. Even at this late hour, cars filled the streets and the sidewalks were gorged with people. A few dings on his bell caused pedestrians to stop long enough for him to bicycle across the sidewalk and into the bicycle lane, where he turned left and began pedaling with the flow of traffic. He kept pace for two blocks, then cut across to the other side of the street, where he began pedaling with the flow of traffic in the other direction. He bicycled past noodle bars, restaurants, and retail outlets offering everything from designer clothing to electronics, phone cards, and cosmetics. Before long, he turned down a side street and raced to the next corner, where he turned right and raced to the next corner, where he turned again. The zigzag pattern took him away from the neon madness of the tourist district and into Hong Kong’s shadowed side streets.
Within twenty minutes, Wu Chee Ming had made his way to a four-story apartment building in a rundown part of Wan Chai. Unlike the glamour and polish of the financial precinct where he worked, this part of town was stained with the gloom of poverty. There were no gleaming office towers of tinted glass. No stepped terraces with architectural flourishes. The buildings were rectangular and squat. Rust and soot were the predominant colors.
Leaning his bicycle against a metal roller door, Wu Chee Ming entered a darkened stairwell and dashed up a flight of steps. There were no lights in the stairwell because Wu Chee Ming had broken the bulbs. No one must remember his face to anyone asking questions. And there would be questions, and Dragon Head would be asking them. By that time, however, he would be long gone, which meant Dragon Head would have no choice but to hunt down the only other person who could give him answers. That person was former KGB colonel Aleksandr Talanov. Talanov, of course, would have no answers because he would not know what had happened. Torture would be employed, and Dragon Head would be merciless, but Talanov would not be able to reveal what he did not know. Yes, Talanov was a walking dead man, while he, Wu Chee Ming, was about to become a ghost.
***
***
Excerpt from Dragon Head by James Houston Turner. Copyright 2020 by James Houston Turner. Reproduced with permission from James Houston Turner. All rights reserved.





Author Bio:

James Houston Turner
Winner of numerous awards, including "Best Thriller," bestselling author James Houston Turner is known for his Aleksandr Talanov series of spy novels. Talanov the fictional character was inspired by the actual KGB agent who once leaked word out of Moscow that James was on a KGB watchlist for his smuggling activities behind the old Iron Curtain. "His act of heroism – he could have been executed for what he did – gave me the idea of a good-guy KGB agent who became a spy for America," Turner explains.
A native of Kansas, James Houston Turner has been writing since he was ten. After earning his bachelor's degree from Baker University, he moved to Texas, where he earned his master's degree from the University of Houston (Clear Lake). He then headed west to California, where his love of writing turned into a profession with publication of The Spud Book: 101 Ways to Cook Potatoes. Publisher's Weekly called it "A cookbook with ap-peel." Between TV cooking tours, he worked as a journalist at the famed Los Angeles Union Rescue Mission, where he revised their magazine, Lifeline, from a needs-based ministry appeal to a collection of interviews from the streets about changed lives. Those interviews included numerous victims of human trafficking. The magazine won several awards.
During this time, James also worked as a smuggler into Soviet-occupied Eastern Europe, where he transported tons of food, clothing, Bibles, and medical supplies, to needy hospitals and churches. While there, he interviewed many heroes of death camps, gulags, Siberian exile, persecution, illness, hardship, and torture, including assassination squads.
James is also a cancer survivor after doctors in Australia removed a tumor the size of an orange from his face. "I was told if I lived eighteen months I would probably live to be one hundred. That was in 1991, so I am happy to report I am well on my way toward that goal. These experiences continue to influence my storytelling, whether in novels, or, now, in film. My stories are 'overcomer stories,' because that's what I've had to do, and is why I want my stories to leave people with the same hope and faith that strengthened me."
As a self-published author who made the deliberate choice away from traditional avenues, he has accomplished what he calls "the writer's dream" with a film option on one of his novels, Greco's Game. He is also one of a small handful of writers who can function both as a novelist and a screenwriter, with two of his screenplays having also been optioned, with production on his projects scheduled to begin in 2020.
After nearly twenty years in Australia, James and his wife, Wendy, now live in Austin, Texas.

Catch Up With James Houston Turner On:

JamesHoustonTurner.world, IMDB, Goodreads, BookBub, Instagram, Twitter, & 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 James Houston Turner. There will be 7 winners. One (1) winner will receive an Amazon.com Gift Card. Six (6) winners will receive DRAGON HEAD by James Houston Turner (print). The giveaway begins on May 1, 2020 and runs through June 2, 2020. Open to U.S. addresses only. Void where prohibited.
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Book Blitz ~ I Hate to Stand Alone: A Small Town Enemies to Lovers Romance by Casey Winter


I Hate to Stand Alone: A Small Town Enemies to Lovers Romance
Casey Winter
(Little Fall, #1)
Publication date: May 29th 2020
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
The small town I ran away from. The Navy SEAL I’m supposed to hate. If I can get through this summer without falling for the off-limits alpha, I’ll consider myself lucky.
Steamy, intense chemistry … is just one of the things I shouldn’t be feeling for Luke Nelson, soldier turned security agency operative. His brother and I were high school sweethearts, but he broke my heart. Plus, our families hate each other, à la the Hatfields and the McCoys.
I return to Little Fall, Maine, to care for my sick mom. He returns to fulfil his brother’s last wish of reopening their mother’s roller rink. I spent half my childhood at Family Roller … but never with him.
He was the older bad boy. I was the girl next door. Love was never an option. But now we can’t stop making eyes at each other.
As I reunite with old family and friends, I learn that Little Fall has just as many secrets as my heart. And even if I’m supposed to say no, my intrigue for dreamy, handsome, rugged Luke Nelson is off the charts.
It turns out I might have a second chance after all … even if it’s with my ex-boyfriend’s big brother.
This full-length romance has a happily-ever-after and can be read as a full standalone. It is free with Kindle Unlimited.
Subsequent books in the Little Fall series cover different heroes and heroines … though your favorite characters will make appearances.
EXCERPT:
Hannah
I take a small sip of wine, letting its flavor burst on my tongue before swallowing. “You know how I hate to stand alone at parties?”
Penny rolls her eyes, a grin of reminiscence lighting up her face. “Do I remember it? Effing hell, Banana, it was one of the running themes throughout our childhoods. You couldn’t stand still, like ever. If you weren’t doing something, you were dying. That’s how it seemed to you. I remember one rare time when you convinced me to come to a party, I found you in the basement with a couple of the so-called dorks – June’s brother, right? – playing Dungeons & Dragons.”
“Oh, yeah,” I giggle, shaking my head at the memory. “I actually forgot about that.”
“I asked you what the heck you were doing, and you just looked me dead in the eye in that can’t-sit-still Hannah way and said, ‘Listen, Penny. I hate to stand alone. It’s as simple as that.’ All I did was go and use the effing toilet, girl. It wasn’t my fault Doug Helmsmore had a bad belly and I had to wait in line for the bathroom, was it?” She giggles. “But that was your little saying, whenever you threw yourself wholeheartedly into a new experience. If I ever called you brave, you’d toss your head and say, ‘It’s not brave, Lennie, I just hate to stand alone.’ But you were wrong, you know. It was brave, is brave, the way you throw yourself into stuff. I could never do it.”
“Thank you,” I say. “It’s really nice of you to say. But the point is, like, lately I’ve found myself standing alone at parties and having it feel sort of natural. Because even if I like my skating buddies, they’re not, I don’t know … they’re not home. Does that sound cheesy or what?”
Penny waves a hand. “Well, that’s great, then. If that’s really how you feel, it’s win-win. You’re happy and I get my bestie back. So what’s the problem?”
I pause, swallowing an awkward lump.
“Luke,” Penny says a moment later. “He’s the spanner in the works, right?”
I nod. “I guess so. To be honest, part of me was wondering if this would happen when I came back here for the long haul, like I sort of expected I might get involved in Little Fall stuff again. But what I definitely didn’t expect was for Luke Nelson to reopen Family Roller. I didn’t expect to find him completely, insanely irresistible. And I definitely didn’t expect to find out that our attraction went beyond just the physical.”
“Is that why you keep checking your phone?” she asks.
“What?” I flinch. “Do I?”
Penny rolls her eyes. “Hon, you’ve checked it at least once a minute.”
“That’s crazy,” I mutter. “I really didn’t even realize. But yeah, he texted me saying he wanted me to give him a day, which is sort of annoying, honestly, since I thought last night—well, I guess I thought it meant something.”
“Go to Family Roller, then,” Penny says firmly. “Go for a skate. If you feel like talking to him, march right up to him and say your piece. If not, just skate. That sounds like a win-win, too.”
“But there’s a lose in there, as well,” I mutter.
“And what’s that?”
“He breaks my heart, just like his little brother did.”



Author Bio:
Hello beautiful readers!
Thank you so, so much for checking out my books. My name is Casey and I just love to write romance with depth and characters you'll be able to connect with. My current series is called Little Fall, named for the town where it's set, but each book is a complete STANDALONE ... that said, don't expect Luke, Morgan, Hannah, or Penny (and many others) to disappear anytime soon! Little Fall is a town you can get invested in, for sure.
I just want to say I'm so grateful to you for checking out my work, and I hope you enjoy reading my romances as much as I enjoyed writing them (hopefully without less stressing LOL).
I've been writing ever since I was a little kid, sitting at my dad's fireplace in cozy New England winters and penning stories in my Barbie notepad. More recently, I've switched the notepad for a laptop, but I've never fallen out of love with the craft. Now, I live in just plain ol' England with a hunky husband and a Jack Russel named Loki.
I'd really appreciate if you could follow my Amazon author page, as I'm going to be around for a LONG time.
Bye for now! Or, should I say, see you in Little Fall ...

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Book Blitz ~ Malcolm - Dirty Aces MC by D. B. West & Lane Hart


Malcolm
D.B. West & Lane Hart
(Dirty Aces MC, #1)
Publication date: May 30th 2020
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
While Malcolm Hyde may look like your very own personal Jesus, he’s anything but a saint. Covered in tattoos and leather, he’s a smoking hot biker and nothing but trouble.
As the president of the Dirty Aces MC, Malcolm is known for being cold and calculating. One bad decision – getting into business with the wrong person – is all it takes to bring down the entire MC. It’s happened before to his predecessor, which is why Malcolm refuses to let it happen again on his watch. He doesn’t trust anyone except for the few men who wear the same ace of spades patch on their back.
And that’s exactly why he doesn’t ever take his eyes off of me – the new girl. I never intended to make an enemy out of Malcolm or the MC when I was sent to steal everything I could from them.
After Malcolm finds out what I’ve been doing, he’s furious and shows no mercy until I spill all of my secrets, ones that could very well end my life. That’s when he makes me a surprising offer – he’s willing to take care of all of my problems, and the only thing he’s asking for in return is for me to completely surrender myself to him.
Spending two weeks in bed with a bad boy biker sounds more like a reward than a punishment.
There’s just one little catch – once he claims my body, there’s no guarantee he won’t steal my heart too.
EXCERPT:
~ Naomi ~
Swallowing down a bad case of the nerves, I slowly make my way over until I’m standing beside Malcolm’s desk near his feet. A second later, he pounces on me, so fast I didn’t even see him stand up. I just blink, and then he’s towering over me, his immense size making me gasp. He’s always intimidating when he’s just sitting down at the bar, but now he’s just plain scary standing at least a foot taller than me with his linebacker shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. He’s so close I have to tilt my head backward to see his face. Malcolm takes a drag off his cigarette and blows the smoke out of the corner of his lips before reaching around me to put it out in the ashtray, which means the front of his body is pressed even tighter to mine. From the corner of my eye, I then see him reach down and pull something from his pocket or his belt, but I don’t know what it is until the sharp point of what can only be a knife is pressing into the center of my chest.
A yelp of surprise escapes me before I find my voice again. “Wh-what are you doing?” I ask him.
He lowers the point until it meets the top of my dress. Grabbing the material with his free hand, the other slices the blade through the fabric, cutting my dress straight down the middle with enough force that I feel the pressure, but it doesn’t leave a mark on my skin. All the tips I’ve stuffed inside earlier float down to the floor around our feet, causing Malcolm to growl angrily through his gritted teeth.
“Those are-are my tips,” I tell him as I slap my palms over my bare breasts, feeling way too exposed at the moment wearing only a pair of red panties.
“Sure they are,” is his stony reply. “No need to act shy now and cover yourself up. Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that you were rubbing your pussy on my dick like you wanted to ride it?”
“Y-yes,” I answer, remembering the embarrassing moment when he said he would never fuck me.
“So, what’s the matter? You changed your mind?”
“No.” I shake my head to confirm my answer. “No, sir.” Malcolm may be scary at the moment, but I still want him. I’ve wanted him since the second I saw him, even though I know I shouldn’t.
“We’ll see about that.”
Closing the knife on the edge of his desk beside my thigh, he thankfully slips it back into his belt holster. As soon as his hands are free, though, he spins me around and presses his large palm between my shoulder blades, roughly forcing my bare upper body down until the side of my face is flat against a stack of papers on his desk.
“There’s nothing I hate more than liars except for thieves,” he mutters. Crap. He knows! “Do you have any idea how furious I am with you?” Keeping one strong hand on the center of my back, the other comes up over my hip, giving my panties a tug when he starts to peel them down my legs.
I shake my head no as much as I can because I’m incapable of speaking now that he has me naked and bent over the desk like he’s not planning on letting me up anytime soon. I don’t know if he’s going to whip me or kill me or fuck me for stealing from him.
He said a few weeks ago that he would never fuck me; but he put the knife away, so I think I can probably cross kill me off the list. Maybe. Hopefully.
“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” I cave and ask.
Placing his lips against my ear, his teeth nip at the cuff before he whispers, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”



Author Bio:
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lane Hart has more than forty steamy stories currently available on Amazon. Sign up for her newsletter to receive updates on new releases and free promotions by copying and pasting this link into your web browser: http://bit.ly/LHDBWNewsletter
Lane lives in North Carolina with her husband, author D.B. West, their two daughters, a few lazy cats and a pair of rambunctious Pomeranians. She has a Masters in Criminal Justice and spent ten years working as a paralegal for a criminal defense attorney before walking away to become a full-time writer.
In October 2015, the paranormal romance anthology Wicked After Dark, including her standalone, Let Him Reign, hit #13 on the New York Times bestseller list. Since then she's been climbing the Amazon charts with hot new releases. So whether you're looking for MMA superstars, hot cops, arrogant football players, sweet millionaires, or romantic weddings, there's a little bit of something for everyone.
Lane loves to hear from her readers on Facebook, Twitter, on her website, or by email!
--
USA Today bestselling author D.B. West was born and raised in the southern United States. While studying at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro, he met his wife and fellow author, Lane Hart. They now reside together with their two young daughters and their pets, a pair of Pomeranians.
After losing his father to a lingering illness, West began writing 'Awakening' as a way to channel his emotions, and honor the memory of a true friend. In addition to writing, he enjoys video games, motorcycles, and traveling.

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Saturday, May 30, 2020

Book Tour & Giveaway ~ Timberline - Collegiate Peaks by Skye McNeil


Timberline 
Collegiate Peaks Book 1 
by Skye McNeil 
Genre: Contemporary Romance, RomCom 


Best-selling romance novels are Jessamine Davis’s life. Well, editing them at least. Her own love life is far from a fairytale. Just when she thinks nothing could put her New York City lifestyle on hold, she receives an unexpected wedding invitation.

Asher Whitaker is a swoon-worthy romance author, but his writing stalls, so he takes a part-time job at a local coffee shop. When a gorgeous woman asks him to pretend to be her boyfriend for a wedding in Colorado, his writer’s block suddenly dissipates.

Wedding shenanigans and trying to pass off a faux relationship lead Jessamine and Asher to discover a stronger connection than either expected.

Can love under false pretenses stand a chance? 






Skye McNeil began writing at the age of seventeen and has been lost in a love affair ever since. During the day, she moonlights as a paralegal at a law firm favoring criminal law. 

Skye enjoys writing romantic comedies and romantic suspense novels that leave readers wanting more and falling in love over and over. She writes contemporary and historical novels ranging from sweet and sassy to steamy and sultry. 

Her constant writing companions are two cats and two dogs. When she's not writing, Skye enjoys spending time with family, photography, volleyball, traveling, and curling up with a cup of coffee and reading. 




Two $5 Amazon Gift cards 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!




Book Tour 7 Giveaway ~ House of Redemption by Kathy Finfrock


House of Redemption 
by Kathy Finfrock 
Genre: Mystery, Thriller, Horror 


Eight unscrupulous guests have been invited to the centuries old Blackstone Resorts. Each patron has his or her own reason for needing an escape from unpleasant circumstances. Tensions mount quickly as, one-by-one, they come to face their worst nightmare. Will they repent their evil ways or remain in Blackstone for the rest of their lives? 






Kathy Finfrock is the author of the horror thriller House of Redemption and host of a podcast series Spooky Tales where you can find her short stories. An avid supporter of other writers, she is the organizer of a local writer's group and has published The Ten-Minute Writing Prompt (Volume 1). She is currently working on a paranormal ghost novel. 




$25 Amazon gift card 

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Book Tour & Giveaway ~ Secrets and Scrabble Series by Josh Lanyon


Secret at Skull House 
Secrets and Scrabble Book 2 
by Josh Lanyon 
Genre: M/M Cozy Mystery 


Ellery Page is back--and poking his elegant nose into trouble again! 

Unlike everyone else in Pirate's Cove, Ellery Page, aspiring screenwriter, reigning Scrabble champion, and occasionally clueless owner of the village's only mystery bookstore, is anything but thrilled when famed horror author Brandon Abbott announces he's purchased legendary Skull House and plans to live there permanently.

Ellery and Brandon have history. Their relationship ended badly and the last thing Ellery wants is a chance to patch things up--especially when his relationship with Police Chief Jack Carson is just getting interesting. But then, maybe Brandon isn't all that interested in getting back together either, because he seems a lot more interested in asking questions about the bloodstained past of his new home than discussing a possible future with Ellery. What is Brandon really up to?

Ellery will have to unscramble that particular puzzle post haste. Because after his former flame disappears following their loud and public argument, Ellery seems to be Police Chief Carson's first--and only--suspect.

***This story contains no on-screen sex or violence 




Murder at Pirate's Cove 
Secrets and Scrabble Book 1 


First in an adorable new cozy series! 

Ellery Page, aspiring screenwriter, Scrabble champion and guy-with-worst-luck-in-the-world-when-it-comes-to-dating, is ready to make a change. So when he learns he's inherited both a failing bookstore and a falling-down mansion in the quaint seaside village of Pirate's Cove on Buck Island, Rhode Island, it's full steam ahead!

Sure enough, the village is charming, its residents amusingly eccentric, and widowed police chief Jack Carson is decidedly yummy (though probably as straight as he is stern). However, the bookstore is failing, the mansion is falling down, and there's that little drawback of finding rival bookseller--and head of the unwelcoming-committee--Trevor Maples dead during the annual Buccaneer Days celebration.

Still, it could be worse. And once Police Chief Carson learns Trevor was killed with the cutlass hanging over the door of Ellery's bookstore, it is.

**This story contains NO on-screen sex or violence. 






Josh Lanyon is the author of over sixty titles of classic Male/Male fiction featuring twisty mystery, kickass adventure and unapologetic man-on-man romance.

Her work has been translated into eleven languages. The FBI thriller Fair Game was the first Male/Male title to be published by Harlequin Mondadori, the largest romance publisher in Italy. Stranger on the Shore (Harper Collins Italia) was the first M/M title to be published in print. In 2016 Fatal Shadows placed #5 in Japan's annual Boy Love novel list (the first and only title by a foreign author to place). The Adrien English Series was awarded All Time Favorite Male/Male Series in the 2nd Annual contest held by the 20,000+ Goodreads M/M Group. Josh is an Eppie Award winner, a four-time Lambda Literary Award finalist (twice for Gay Mystery), and the first ever recipient of the Goodreads M/M Hall of Fame award.

Josh is married and lives in Southern California. 




$15 Amazon 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!