Book Tour ~ Guidance to Death - A Novel by Daniel V. Meier, Jr.

 

 

Frank Adams Series, Book One

 

Murder/Mystery Thriller

Date Published: 05-16-2023

Publisher: BQB Publishing

 

It was cold and rainy, with low visibility. A perfect morning for sabotage. The company jet carrying a Senior VP mysteriously crashes shortly after taking off from Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport.

The National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) says it was an accident. The victim’s wife says it was murder. Frank Adams, an independent aviation accident investigator has been hired to find out. Mounting evidence and an additional murder convince Adams that there was indeed foul play.

As what seemed to be disparate events become increasingly linked, Frank reveals a crime of international dimensions. Accustomed to working independently, Frank is forced to call on the help of an old girlfriend as well as a retired DC cop. But unraveling the truth could cost him his life as well as the lives of his friends.

 

Frank lay shivering in the mud for over an hour, until he was sure they had not taken the road around to this side of the lake. Perhaps they thought he was the first to go through the ice and never made it out from under it. Or maybe they were only after Sal, and either arrogantly or foolishly ignored him. Whatever the reason, he couldn't take unnecessary chances now, and even though they probably did not know where his cabin was, he decided not to risk going to it. Slowly, stiffly, he got to his knees and gently pushed the reeds aside to look at the lake. It was as black and empty as before, nothing stirred. Tomorrow the hole would be iced over, and Sal would be sealed there until spring, with his pockets stuffed full of money, legal papers, and a gun.

Frank's hands had numbed to the point where he could not feel the mud that he scraped from his clothes, and his feet were like solid blocks of wood. He started up the hill, careful to place his feet on firm ground. The reeds had given way to thick forest.

He hooked his arms around tree trunks to pull himself along. By the time he reached the dirt road on this side of the lake, he was beginning to get some feeling back into his extremities.

He remembered once, when he was a young and hungry charter pilot, waiting outside the locked operator's office in twenty-degree weather for his passenger to return. He couldn't waste precious aviation fuel just to keep warm, so he spent most of the night sprinting up and down the runway, working up body steam that would soon be drawn away by the cold. Cold was like death. It was always trying to get at you, seeping in under doors, through windows, always drawing life-giving heat out of your body.

Frank reached the road after one last struggle with the mud and snow. He knew that there was a house several miles down the road. He didn't know the people, but that didn't matter now. All he could think about was the cold that threatened to kill him.

He started to run down the road, flapping his arms like a grounded bird in an absurd attempt at flight. The movement warmed him a little but running in this kind of total darkness was impossible. The road was muddy and invisible beneath him. Trotting worked a little better, and nothing interfered with flapping his arms. He pumped up a little more body heat and concentrated on his arms to forget about the cold.

How far was the farmhouse? He had always judged the distance from his cabin. He was not completely sure of his position on the road. He kept trotting, planting his feet firmly in the soft surface of the road, occasionally stumbling but never quite falling.

The glow of car lights appeared behind him. They were hidden by a curve and had not caught him in their direct beams yet. He reached the edge of the road in three long strides, grabbed a small fir tree at the top as he would have grabbed an adversary by the hair, and jumped off the road. The tree bent over ninety degrees and checked his momentum. He released it, and it snapped back upright. It would take more than Frank to break off its maturity.

He worked his way down several feet below road level, digging the toes of his shoes into the ground for support. The car came very slowly, the tires grinding by him overhead. He hoped they were only locals who knew the condition of the road, maybe even the people who lived in the house that he was looking for. But Frank wasn't thinking of that by the time the car passed.

He was thinking of Baja, California in July. He could almost feel the blistering sun, smell the dry desert air. He could see the blue Pacific glittering all the way to the horizon and hear the refreshing sound of Pacific waves breaking on the rocky shore.

His memory of Baja was so clear that he believed for a few quick moments that he had awakened there. Maybe he had passed out and the people in the car had found him, and somehow his comatose body had been sent to California for treatment at the swimming pool of an elegant hacienda and letting the sun and Pacific revive him.

He abruptly came to, gazed around, and wiped the snow away from his mouth. It tasted like foul ice water. The wind had started to pick up, and it had a Canadian bite to it. Tomorrow everything would be frozen solid. He pushed himself up from the ground, forced several deep swallows of cold air into his lungs, and struggled back up to the road.

 

 

About the Author

A retired Aviation Safety Inspector for the FAA, Daniel V. Meier, Jr. has always had a passion for writing. During his college years, he studied History at the University of North Carolina, Wilmington (UNCW) and American Literature at The University of Maryland Graduate School.  In 1980 he published an Action/Thriller, Mendosa’s Treasure with Leisure Books under the pen name of Vince Daniels.

He worked briefly for the Washington Business Journal as a journalist and has been a contributing writer/editor for several aviation magazines. Guidance to Death is a return to a favorite genre of his, Action/Thriller/with the added intrigue of Murder/Mystery.

Other books by Dan are Blood Before Dawn, the sequel to the award-winning novel, The Dung Beetles of Liberia. Bloodroot, also an Historical novel is about the Jamestown settlement in the early 1600’s and No Birds Sing Here, is a work of Satirical Literary Fiction.

Dan and his wife live in Owings, Maryland, about twenty miles south of Annapolis and when he's not writing, they spend their summers sailing on the Chesapeake Bay.

 

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Book Tour ~ The Green by Asya Krengauz

 

Children's Book

Date Published: June 29, 2021

Publisher: Magical World of AGAT Publishing

 

 

Welcome to a world filled with magic...and smog. But mostly smog. That is a big problem and it won't be left by the wayside if the witches have anything to say about it. A magical world it may be, but with some real-life problems that are all too familiar to anyone who inhabits planet Earth.

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

T

here once was a coven of witches. They lived in a land far, far away. They lived in what used to be the woods and drew all of their power from the Green—the magical, ever-giving Green.

But the Green was in trouble. And so were the witches. Their very existence depended on the Green, but it was disappearing, faster and faster with each day. They needed to save it to save themselves. It seemed like a useless fight.

How could they, this little coven, ever save it? It seemed an impossible feat, especially because the humans seemed so intent on getting rid of it. First, they came and tamed the Green as much as possible. They bent it to their wills whenever and wherever they could. The Green was all powerful, an epic force to be reckoned with, but those humans were clever—they too were a force to be reckoned with.

They cut it down when it got in their way. They cleared the land and built towns and cities. They harvested the Green’s gifts and made them their own; then, they kept taking and taking until the Green was depleted. They asked for more, and when it could no longer give, they left it there to wither away and die—never thinking to give back. They took its resources and made them into artificial and toxic things that they then threw at the Green as if to say, “You wanted something back, here you go!”

No one seemed to care, as if the Green wasn’t important to the humans. As if their lives didn’t depend on it just like the witches’ lives. The only difference was that they didn’t have as direct of a connection to the Green as the witches did. They didn't draw their powers directly from the Green, and the humans had a hard time understanding what would happen in a few short years down the line if they continued down the path they were on. It was too abstract for them to truly understand.

The witches loved the Green in more ways than one. They loved its beauty and what it gave them, like food and shade, and they respected it. They also loved using their powers drawn from the Green, but they needed them, as well. They needed them to fight the Ignorati.

The Ignorati were those who would spread lies, hate, misinformation. Those who distorted facts and changed things into something seemingly unbelievable, disguising lies with words and sentences that made people buy into it. They knew how to do this and had been working on it for ages, but now they were especially doing well as the internet allowed a free flow of information to come from all sorts of sources, both verified and not. To top it all off, they had one of their own in power now, the Orange Man, who called everything he didn’t like “fake news” and spewed their propaganda shamelessly.

The witches tried to do their part: they recycled, they reused everything they could. They bought less and never, ever used plastic bags. They made everything they could from scratch to avoid plastic packaging that came with everything that was bought, and they held rallies and tried to educate people on all of the harm caused by what they were doing. And yes, some people expressed interest and even changed their ways, but there were so many more who just didn’t seem to care. It felt useless. There were just so many people, products, companies using plastic once, and then simply throwing it away. The humans didn’t seem to understand what they were doing. They would use plastic for everything, from straws to bowls to cups and utensils, and then just throw them out, never thinking twice about it. They had no idea what was and what wasn’t recyclable. There were so many reusable alternatives, but the humans seemed to just love the “convenience” of throwing things away.

What the coven of witches found really strange was that no one was talking about it. They didn’t understand. Perhaps the human leaders were hiding something—and it was a secret? But the evidence was all around them. Why didn’t the humans just look around and see what was happening? The strange Orange Man, who was their leader, talked about how there really was no problem.

Surely no one is that silly to believe him? thought Analiea, a young witch who was especially worried.

Like other young witches, she had waited all of her short life to get her powers, and now she, like the others of her cohort awaiting their powers, wouldn’t be able to because the Green would be gone all too soon!

The witches held a vast power, so ironically, not everyone received their powers just like magic. They had to earn them, study for them, and prepare to handle this oh so useful and powerful weapon. Naturally, Analiea wasn’t about to let her potential powers slip away. She needed to take action!

A plan…a plan…I need a plan, thought Analiea as she wondered about her conundrum.

She decided she had to seek out the Orange Man. Even though he was a part of the Ignorati, he didn’t know that the witches sought to fight his kind. He was quite ignorant to it actually. So, she thought if she could reach him, explain to him how the Green is being killed and how it impacts not just her coven but humans, too, he would have to change his message.

How could he not? It was so obvious, so logical. Analiea already knew this, and she was just a child. The Orange Man appeared to be everywhere and nowhere at once. She realized it would be much harder to reach him than she had hoped. She needed something that would get his attention, something like Zitter perhaps? Analiea logged in and posted the post she thought would get the Orange Man’s attention. But that got no response.

Maybe he didn’t have time to read her message. Maybe it just wasn’t bold enough. Analiea also knew he liked to get his news from the Fox, maybe that was a good way to get his attention.

Maybe, she thought, if I can get in touch with the Fox, he’ll spread our message to the Orange Man.

Analiea thought the Fox would be easier to get a hold of than the Orange Man because his aim was to spread information (or what he interpreted as information) to the humans, and he therefore was more willing to meet with people in order to see if they had useful knowledge to share.

But there was of course an obstacle. The Fox was not an easy creature to please. He had many prospective sources to consider, and you had to amuse him and catch his attention for him to even consider looking your way.

Now, witches, while known for their magic, were actually creatures of many talents. Analiea specialized in dance, for example. She also dabbled in ice skating, but that was neither here nor there. Analiea was a masterful dancer, and she thought that maybe this talent could help her. She didn’t know it at the time, but she was right. One of her talents would ultimately help save the Green, but we aren’t at that part of the story, yet.

Analiea knew the Fox fancied himself an entertainer, as well as a spreader of what he called information, and needed to entertain with only the most impressive spectacles. She gathered as much help as she could get. Witches, being as communal as they were, never did anything alone, so it was no surprise that Analiea easily found the help she needed. Not everyone thought this was the best way to save the Green, especially seeing how many steps there were to this plan and no guarantees of the result.

Meanwhile, the Green continued to be demolished and wasted. Analiea argued her case saying that even if this didn’t work, at least she’d tried something new and what they had already been doing wasn’t helping anyone. But the truth was, she was sure this would work.

The Orange Man had influence over the humans. They listened to him, and the Fox had a hold over him. He listened to what the Fox said and saw only what the Fox showed him. If Analiea could make her way into the Fox’s entourage, she could be part of what the Orange Man saw, heard, and believed.

Analiea, and the witches supporting and helping her, practiced and prepared what they believed was the most stunning performance of their lives. There was no guarantee the Fox would agree, but it had to catch his attention. They combined whatever talents they had available to them, from dancing, singing, beatboxing, painting, costume design, story writing, to even glass blowing and stilt walking. The witches were creative and had to use that power to get in touch with the humans. And while they still had magic available to them, they used it sparingly, and only in cases of urgency, as the Green was being depleted at an ever-quickening pace—not to mention no one had yet invented a spell to persuade someone.

They worked tirelessly to prepare a performance that was sure to wow. Cadian helped with the lighting and set. Karth designed spectacular costumes using everything they had. The witches tried to avoid just throwing things away and often found interesting uses for things that couldn’t be recycled. Karth had a special hand when it came to design; he saw things in ways no one else could. The performers each practiced their parts, and one of the elder witches, Klava/o, who had been around dancing and staging for centuries, choreographed a most unique performance that was nothing short of marvelous.

“Maravilloso!” s/he would cry with each scene. “English just can’t express the essence of me,” s/he explained.

Klava/o was one of a handful of witches, who did not have a fixed gender, so s/he floated through both depending on what was happening in his/her life. This was particularly useful as s/he had lived through times and in places where females were not respected as much as males. S/he wore a shining, brilliant necklace designed by the glass blowers, who decorated the set with melted down glass containers they already had to make fantastic and wondrous ornaments. Crushed up debris from things, which could no longer be reused as they had lived their lifespan to the fullest, was used as makeup that could be seen from afar, catching the light and making it dance along with the performers.

Analiea grew more and more confident every day as she watched the pieces of her plan fall into place. Doubt certainly crept in, but she had to push it back down. There was no room for it. If she was going to be successful, she had to commit—and commit she did. Finally, the time had come.

They had to go meet the Fox.

 

About the Author

This is exciting. And…slightly awkward. You don’t know me. I don’t know you. We’re here, staring at each other. What does one say in this situation?

Unless you do know me, in which case, “Hey girl! Let’s twerk later, shall we?”

We’ll start with “hi”! My name is Asya. I’m a writer. Isn’t that sexy? I like to write. I like to talk. I love to spread information. But only if it’s controversial. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fun.

You can find me on Substack and I would like to dedicate it to diet culture. You f*cking c*nt. You, diet culture, who took away so much of my life and takes away so many others. I’m not the first to write on this topic, but damn it if I don’t share my piece!

The word needs to be spread, and by golly, I’m here to spread it.

Interested in learning more? Cool. I plan on sending newsletters maybe once or twice a week, to be decided.

 

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Book Blitz ~ Warrior Reborn - The Extraordinary True Story of Kisemei Kupe by Clark Wiginton

 

 

The Extraordinary True Story of Kisemei Kupe

 

SOCIAL SCIENCE / Poverty & Homelessness

RELIGION / Christian Life / Relationships

 Date Published: May 30, 2023

Publisher: Clay Bridges

Born into obscurity, poverty, and indifference in the 1960s in the heart of the African wilderness, Kisemei Kupe experienced neglect, hunger, loneliness, misdirection, abuse, and danger to a degree that very few in our Western culture could imagine. Reaching out for help, he devoted himself to Islam only to find himself in acute despair and hopelessness. Yet in the midst of these crushing circumstances, Kisemei experienced a dramatic encounter with the vision of a man he had never met and whose name he didn’t know. It was an encounter so genuine and a metamorphosis so drastic that it would set in motion a series of events that would lead him to face certain death for his actions. He was once a warrior for his village, but now a new warrior had emerged. This is a story that many of us need to hear today—a story that transcends the jury of society, an abiding story of truth and hope for us all.

About the Author

Clark Wiginton is a physician, entrepreneur, and writer who lives in west central Texas with his wife, Stephanie, and their five children. He is a personal friend of the subject of this book.

 

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Book Blitz ~ Azreya - Aztec Priestess - Written by Tricia Copeland & Illustrated by Matt Maes

 

  

Title:Azreya
Author: Tricia Copeland
Genre: YA Historical Fantasy, Myths & Legends
Editor: Jo Michaels, Indie Books Gone Wild
Illustrator: Matt Maes
Publication Date: August 23^rd, 2022
Hosted by: Lady Amber's Reviews & PR

Blurb:

For years, Azreya accepts her place as one cursed by the gods, but with foresight of an impending slaughter, she dares to attempt to reverse the Aztec people’s fate.

 

At the age of three, Azreya is placed in the care of a shaman, Nukpana, who promises to protect her. Servitude to the man who vowed to keep her dark side from emerging seemed a small price to pay until a special client visits. Azreya’s inner compass clashes with Nukpana’s wishes and her rage boils over.

 

With the demon just under the surface, she has no choice but to flee, only to find her own family refuses to take her in. Still unable to stand by and witness her people’s demise, Azreya pursues a quest to enlighten them. She faces many challenges—not the least of which is the monster hiding under her own skin.

 

Can Azreya control her inner beast and convince her people to break from age-old patterns, or will the Aztecs be vanquished by the enemy?

 

Journey back in time to unlock the secrets of the Aztec.

GRAB NOW!

 

An avid runner and Georgia native, Tricia now lives with her family and four-legged friends in Colorado. She believes that magic infuses every aspect of our lives, whether it is the magic of falling in love, discovering a new passion, a beautiful sunset, or a book that transports us to another world. You can find all her titles from contemporary romance and fantasy, to dystopian fiction at www.triciacopeland.com.

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Azreya, Aztec Priestess

by Tricia Copeland

Giveaway ends July 04, 2023.

See the giveaway details at Goodreads.

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Book Blitz ~ God & I by Victor Victori

 

 

The Pursuit of Wisdom, Knowledge, Spiritual Power, and the Minds of God Through Multiplism

 

Nonfiction / Spiritual / Self-Help

  

If art imitates life, this book imitates the artist’s mind. Specifically an artist that has surrendered most of their natural born life to the arts. As the decades change so does the style of the art and their philosophy of how they approach their medium. This book follows the artist’s transformation and expression of that art in correlation to the influences, both external and internal, over a lifetime of study. The influence is sometimes physical and direct, other times more seemingly abstract and metaphysical. And it continually revisits the question, how in control are we, or is there something bigger at work? Are we bound to repeat history or do we always have the power to change our path? The author provides anecdotes that seem to answer the text's questions directly, and at other times stir the ambiguity. At the same time, the format of the book as an anthology allows for it to rest on any coffee table and be cracked open at any page to enjoy a slice of the larger thought-pie.

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Book Tour ~ Death's Despair - A Kassidy Simmons Novel by Dennis K. Crosby

 

Kassidy Simmons, Book 3

 

Urban Fantasy

Date Published: June 6, 2023

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

 

Born to a family of witches, Traci Leeds has always been connected to magic. A direct descendant of the goddess of witchcraft, she was destined to succeed her mother as leader of her coven. Her powers were dormant until trauma resulting from being kidnapped activated her abilities. Dissatisfied with their development Traci tapped into magic forbidden by those in her line.   Kassidy Simmons, the Death God, continues her quest to return lost souls to their proper place in the afterlife. She and her Reapers are charged with maintaining harmony between life and death, but a recent decision to resurrect a soul has shifted that balance. A rising blood moon and supernatural occurrences involving witchcraft send Kassidy on a journey to the steps of the Underworld where she learns of the darkness surrounding Traci’s decision to tap into forbidden magic..   With an ancient prophecy looming and nightmarish visions of the apocalypse haunting her waking mind, Kassidy must rise up and withstand the fury of a Titan to save all she holds dear.

 

“Dude,” began the Suburbanite, “let’s get the fuck outta here. You know she’s gonna call the cops.”

Kassidy sensed a great deal of fear in him. Even without the benefit of her supernatural empathic abilities, that was clear. So, at least he was smart. Switchblade was different. There was fear there, but there was also, stupidity, determination, and . . . arousal. Not so much inspired by her, but by the violence. He wanted to be a badass. He got off on it. It was likely that this entire night was more about showing off in front of the Suburbanite than asserting himself against a woman alone in the park.

It was unfortunate that they chose this night.

More unfortunate that they chose her.

“Bro, shut the fuck up and let me handle this,” said Switchblade.

“You really should listen to your boyfriend,” said Kassidy.

“What? He’s not my boyfriend, bitch.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Right, that was insensitive. I meant to say partner. You should really listen to your partner. I’m old school. I just use girlfriend or boyfriend. I’m getting better though.”

“Bitch!”

“There’s that word again,” said Kassidy.

Switchblade lunged at Kassidy. In the corner of her eye, she saw the Suburbanite back away. She was growing impatient and felt a sense of urgency to get her true mission accomplished. Normally, she wouldn’t use her powers in front of mortals. Well, that wasn’t always true. She’d certainly had some fun at the expense of others in her teens when she was just a Reaper. Back then, she didn’t care if anyone said anything. She’d already been dubbed Krazy Kassie by her classmates, so in her mind, it didn’t hurt to fuck with them. She had power. True power. And the power she had back then paled in comparison to the power she had now. Using it against these two idiots wouldn’t bring as much joy as it had in her teens, but as was the case back then, she knew these two wouldn’t be telling anyone.

And if they did, who’d believe them.

As Switchblade came at her, Kassidy shimmered out of view, reappearing behind the Suburbanite. She grabbed a handful of his hair with her left hand and grabbed at his throat with her right. When the bewildered Switchblade spun, trying to figure out what had happened, she willed her right hand to transform into an onyx sickle, the tool of a Reaper. As she touched the tip into Suburbanite’s neck, she felt, more than sensed, his fear. His heartbeat was a jackhammer competing with the sound of the wind sweeping through the park.

“What the fuck are you, lady?” asked Switchblade, his eyes wide.

“I’m the one politely asking you both, one last time, to get the fuck out of here before I get really pissed,” replied Kassidy.

Kassidy closed her eyes, knowing that her next bit of magic would likely close the deal. In the Reaper ranks, when a psycho­pomp—a being that ushered souls to the afterlife—used their power, their eyes would shine silver. Kassidy’s had been silver for decades when she powered up. A couple of times in life, they’d shown black, the mark of the Wraith. Similar to Reapers, Wraiths had been created to be the secret police of Azra-El, the former Primus or Angel of Death, right hand to the original Death God, and Kassidy’s father, Thanatos. After Kassidy dispatched Azra-El she became the new Death God, in the absence of her father. Now, when she powered up, her eyes shown a metallic, unearthly blue, the mark of a god.

That’s what Switchblade saw when Kassidy opened her eyes.

“Run!” she screamed.

And he did.

 

About the Author

Dennis K. Crosby is the award-winning author of the Amazon bestselling urban fantasies, Death’s Legacy and Death’s Debt. With a degree in criminal justice, he spent six years working as a private investigator. His love of learning about people led him to pursue a master’s degree in forensic psychology. A staunch advocate of mental health reform, he has worked in social service for over a decade, promoting social justice and efforts to combat homelessness.Dennis completed an MFA program at National University, and since the release of his first novel, he has served as a speaker at the Southern California Writers’ Conference and as a panelist at Comic-Con and the Fox Cities Book Festival. He’s been a guest on a number of podcasts and has published seven short stories in various anthologies. Death’s Despair is book three in the Kassidy Simmons series. A self-proclaimed geek, the bourbon-loving Chicago Cubs fan and deep-dish pizza connoisseur lives and writes in San Diego, CA.

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Book Blitz ~ In the Moment During - The Coyote and the Claw Companion Series by C. G. Coppola

 

In The Moment During
C.G. Coppola
(The Coyote And The Claw Companion Series, #2)
Publication date: June 23rd 2023
Genres: Adult, Romance, Urban Fantasy

After an unexpected hookup, I end up dating Grayson Knight—my former mortal enemy. We still argue constantly, and I’m sure we’ll break up at some point, but after a family dinner goes well with Dad—the city’s Police Sergeant—I have hope.

Then I start noticing things. Like how Grayson gets called away at odd times, or how skilled he is with gymnastics. Then there was the fight at school—the one where he dominated his opponent. None of it seems important until we’re attacked by a monstrous creature—and Grayson springs into action. It’s almost like he knows what to do…like he’s done it before.

Knowing something is off, I confront him about his unusual behavior, but he dismisses it. Not satisfied, I decide to discover the truth for myself. Because Grayson has a secret—and I’m going to find out what.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Grayson looks at me, gesturing for me to sit.

I pull out my chair and take my seat, and he does the same across from me. Scooting in, I glance around the restaurant, scanning the other diners. All are in their thirties and older, most in their forties and fifties. We’re definitely the youngest patrons here.

“Stop staring.” He pushes the menu in front of me. “Pick out something to eat. Get whatever you want.”

Encouraged, I look down, scanning the prices first like I’ve always done.

Whoa.

Everything is in the double digits, and most start with three. I feel weird.

“Stop looking at the prices and get whatever you want, okay? This is our one big date, so make it count.”

Our one big date? I thought he was joking about making this stretch, but was he? Maybe that wasn’t a joke at all. I’m sure this will work itself toward an argument, but I need to understand what he means. Setting the menu down, I look up. “You’re saying I don’t get any more after this?”

“Until prom?” He thinks about it, tilting his head. “Eh. Probably not.”

“That’s in like, six months.”

“Which is why you should make this one count.”

“Grayson.”

“What?”

I narrow my eyes at him, but he only stares back. Oh, no. He’s not getting by with this one. “I didn’t ask you to roll all our dates into one big-ass crazy one.”

“Is that what I’m doing? I said big dates—not all dates. This is our first official one, hence it’s a big one.” He picks up his menu with both hands, his eyes already dipping back down the paper. “You really got to pay attention.”

I replay his words, trying to find what I missed. Oh. Tilting my head, I lock onto his eyes, holding him accountable. “So that means I get more dates then?”

“How many dates am I supposed to take you on?”

“I don’t know…twice a month?”

“Twice a month?” He thinks. “So, according to your math, you’re owed twelve dates over a six-month period?”

“Uh, sure—yeah.”

He nods to himself. “Think I can handle that. Just don’t expect each date to be up to this caliber, okay? Again, this one is a big deal. A special situation since it’s our first official date. After this, it’s fast food and streaming services. Completely downhill from here.”

I stare at him a long moment, wondering how his weird little brain works. “You know sometimes, I still think about strangling you.”

“Are we naked when you imagine it?”

“Hello.” A black lady stops at our table, her arms behind her back. She’s wearing the same thing as the other servers—a white blouse with black slacks and shoes. Her hair is pulled into a braid down her neck, and unlike some of the other servers, she’s wearing very little makeup. “And welcome to Donald’s. My name is Latoya. Have you dined with us previously?”

“No ma’am,” Grayson answers for us.

“Well, welcome. I’ll give you a moment to look over the menu, but first, let me tell you about today’s specials…” Latoya prattles off her rehearsed description, and it actually sounds delicious—grilled salmon in butter herb sauce with rice pilaf and cherry tomatoes.

So good.

Once she’s done, she leaves us with a smile and promises to return shortly with two waters and a basket of warmed bread.

Grayson is back to staring at his menu, his eyes pouring over each option. “What’re you thinking about getting? The salmon sounds good, but I haven’t had lobster in fucking ever.”

Author Bio:

C.G. Coppola is the author of the sci-fi adventure series, Arizal Wars, and the contemporary romance series, Better Than This. In addition to stories that explore magic and the paranormal, she writes realistic fiction set in fantastical universes, usually with a lot of kissing. Married with two fur-babies she spoils rotten, C.G. Coppola lives in Florida where she grew up and attended college. When not writing, she can be found decorating the house, bantering with her husband, or dancing to Meghan Trainor–sometimes all at once.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

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Book Blitz ~ The Springfest Sprint - A Faetales Novelette by Georgie Monroe

 

The Springfest Sprint
Georgie Monroe
(A Faetales Novelette, #1)
Publication date: June 23rd 2023
Genres: Adult, Fantasy

Tradition can really put a damper on wanderlust.

Ember has come of seelie age, however, the spirited heir of the Spring Fae Court hasn’t chosen a mate yet. Per the court’s ancient custom, it’s time for her to run the Springfest Sprint! The males are ready to claim their mates, and many have their sights on the elusive princess. But she’s got a plan…

Hide until this nonsense is over.

It’s not foolproof or typical of the feisty fae, but it’s better than getting bound to a terrible kisser, a pompous bragger, or really… anyone. When she runs into a male who ruins her hiding spot, she has to decide if he’s an enemy or ally.
***

If you’re looking for plot, setting, and action, with a touch of dark romance and steamy moments, all packaged in a two hour read, then welcome to the Springfest Sprint! Tropes you will find: forced proximity without decent clothes, spicy faerie fae, secret royalty, mate race, fight against tradition, enemies to lovers, misunderstood hero, fae/faerie lore, polyamory, fated mates, fun best friend, and lots of sneaking around.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

With my mother’s announcement, I start out at a slow pace past the attentive hunters. The other prey falls behind me like I’ve started a human jogging club. When we squish together to enter the rocky ravine, and females crunch together, arguing for more space, I’m even more appreciative that I shoved my way to the front. As soon as we pass through, I yell, “Good fortune to those who wish for it,” and dash left toward the river, listening to the others mumble and clop noisily in all directions. Twenty flutters into my sprint, silk tangles around my quick legs and I halt too late, tumbling to the forest floor with a screech as my wings try desperately to break free from the bindings. “We’re not meant for running,” I grumble, staggering to my feet. Especially not in too-long panels of silk.

My knees leak crimson, and I shake my head. Bleeding will not help me hide. I need to get to the water. Tying the silk panels together, I fashion something close to a silky diaper—maybe that will deter the hunters as well—and get back to my escape plan. Has it been forty flutters or forty-five? I finally find what I’m looking for, leaping from rock to rock as I close in on the river.

Some don’t pay attention to our territory, leaving it to the work of the gentry and army, but I studied these woods and this stream until it formed a detailed map in my mind. Now, I move closer to what I can only hope will hide me well enough for the others to be claimed first. It’s definitely been fifty flutters, and I waver between sticking to the trees and underbrush so I have coverage or dashing along the rocks so my steps are silent.

A distant scream stops me in my tracks, and then a jumble of yelling takes over. I run with renewed fervor, sticking to the coverage of trees, because whatever scuffle is unfolding won’t last long enough. A buzz of wings sounds and I throw myself against a tree, trying desperately to ease my heaving lungs. The sound halts, and a tree branch creaks to my right. This is where someone who was panicking would run, but I’d be caught four steps into a sprint. I dig my fingers into the bark and slowly blow out the air from my burning lungs. There’s another buzz, and for a moment, I hope they’ve flown away, but one speaks.

“Have you seen Quartz?” Stone has to be only a tree over. Too close.

“Nah. My eyes are set for one.” Jasper’s voice makes me grit my teeth. Go, please. Leave.

“That little tart is trouble, and you know it.” Stone’s voice is quietly conspiratorial.

Hey. I cut my eyes in his direction, but don’t dare to move.

Jasper chuckles. “It’s worth it.”

I roll my eyes. That says a lot. Not she’s worth it, but it—my title and status. That’s all Jasper has ever been interested in.

“Well, I doubt the little princess would have made it this far already, nor would she come here. Too close to mud and stream muck for her precious self.”

I can count myself fortunate that Stone isn’t interested, though it’s hard for me to stay still instead of turning around and giving him the what for, the peephole.

“You’re probably right. Maybe she’s in the fields.” Jasper gives a disgruntled hum, and two sets of wings flutter off.

I rescind the peephole insult. Stone can lure Jasper away anytime. Keeping still and calm for another long moment, I listen to the sounds of the forest: birds, distant buzzing, and there are definitely moans coming from the west. Two are out of the game, it seems.

Pushing off the tree, I step into a run, wincing at the slight crunch of last year’s plant remains between the clumps of fresh growth. The creek comes into sight and I grin. Then I screech as I’m tackled, landing hard amongst a bed of daffodils.

Author Bio:

Georgie Monroe is an author of sassy erotica romance. Born on the southern east coast, she's a firm believer that mac and cheese solves nearly any problem and that spring weather means the day's outfit will consist of seven layers. She's terribly optimistic and will douse anyone around her in "it's going to work out" sparkles. And she loves to write all the juicy parts of relationships between a variety of people so that her readers can enjoy stepping into the lives of fun, sexy, and sometimes highly flawed people who deserve a well-earned happily ever after.

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Book Blitz ~ The Broken Protector by Nicole Snow

 

The Broken Protector
Nicole Snow
Publication date: June 22nd 2023
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Starting over isn’t easy when an unexpected hero crashes her plans in this steamy and gripping new small-town enemies-to-lovers romance by Wall Street Journal bestselling author Nicole Snow.

My fresh start turned into a dumpster fire.
Awesome new job. Small town heaven. Friendly faces galore.
Then I strolled into my new home and found the unspeakable.
Just when I’m sure it can’t get worse, I’m “rescued” by a man who makes me see red for miles.

Enter Lucas Graves.
A bossy grump with a badge who’s sworn to keep me safe.
He rocks the scary-hot vibe, he reads too much, and he never misses a chance to give me crap for being a nerdy little cactus who mouths back.
Not the type of man I’d go for in my right mind.
Definitely not the type I should keep trading bruising kisses with.

Redhaven, North Carolina has driven me insane.
Why else does my heart race when Lucas gets jealous and overprotective?
How could I think he’ll ever share more than another reckless night?
He guards his own battered heart as fiercely as he watches over me.

It can’t get more complicated.
Oh, but then it does.
There’s a razor-thin line between heartbreak and hope with a broken protector.
He’s so wrong for me I could scream.
But I’m not losing sleep over the very real danger I’m in.
I’m terrified that Lucas Graves might be the best thing that’s ever happened—if he’d let us happen at all.

This big slice of feel-good small-town romance brings enemies to lovers fire, hilarious sweetness, heart-thumping suspense, and all the butterflies. Smile yourself silly as one big bossy lunk tries to keep his heart and his secrets from the headstrong new girl destined to make him whole.

Goodreads / Amazon

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EXCERPT:

I can’t stop scowling at his back, pathetically speechless.

Yeah, I’ve got to find a better way to say dick.

I’m not even sure why he riles me up so much.

Probably that juvenile Miss New York nickname and the way he always shows up without warning. Or it’s the laughably inappropriate way he got me to stop fixating on the dead girl by teasing me about sleeping on his sofa.

Or maybe it’s just that he’s so flipping tall.

I’ve been a short stack my whole life.

And I’ve had more than one person try to make me feel small, crowding me out of daring to take up space.

“…hello? Miss?”

Oh.

Trisha’s talking to me.

My face goes hot and I whip my eyes back to her, clearing my throat. “Sorry. So, about those membership plans?”

It doesn’t take long before I’m set up with a monthly trial plan. I’m almost shocked at how cheap it is when I’m used to NYC markups on everything.

I could’ve saved even more if I’d committed to a quarterly plan. But maybe I’m thinking about dead bodies, quietly wondering just what my limit is for how many I’m cool with before I panic and hightail it out of town.

Or I’m just being dramatic, and what’s actually on my mind is tree-lined lanes and how nice it would be to jog down them at sunrise, no membership required.

Sighing, I do a quick five-minute set of stretches before I claim one of the treadmills with House Hunters on TV for company.

I’ve barely started a light jog when the men’s locker room door swings open and Lucas Graves stalks back out, sans gym bag.

He takes one glance at me—a glance that lingers too long, making me nearly trip on my own feet—before he looks at the television.

Somehow, he switches the channel over to Better Call Saul before climbing on the treadmill next to mine and gliding into a steady, pounding pace.

Holy hell.

The man goes from nothing to a strong, violent run in under five seconds. Almost like a racehorse bursting out of the gate.

He runs for two solid minutes without even huffing.

This. Is. So. Bad.

My mind goes terrible places, wondering what else his body can do with gym-freak stamina like that.

“I was watching that, you know,” I mutter when I can’t stand it any longer.

He doesn’t look at me, his mile-wide chest rising and falling in deep, steady breaths.

“So change it back. You’ve got thumbs, right?” His gaze stays on his digital readouts as he shrugs.

“Um, yes. I have thumbs. Very observant.” Glaring, I manage to hold up a thumb instead of another middle finger salute. I’m being nice today.

I shake my head, ready for more of his crap, but apparently he’s holding back too.

“So change it back,” I mouth, scowling, but then slow the treadmill and step off it.

I brace my burning feet on the floor for a second before I stomp over, grab the remote on a little console table under the TV, and flick the channel back to my show.

I don’t even make it back to my machine before the sound changes, and Bob Odenkirk starts yelling at a couple cartel guys who look like they eat kittens for breakfast.

Yep.

Looks like I’m going to get arrested for assaulting a cop today.

I whip my head up, glaring at the TV, then at Lucas.

He’s got his phone out, not even missing a stride as he taps his screen. I catch a glimpse of the Roku logo.

Oh, that absolute jerk. He’s got an app synced to this TV, and he just—

Argh!

A little growl slips up my throat. Still gripping the remote, I punch the button back to House Hunters, staring at him pointedly the entire time.

He’s still got his head bowed, his face unreadable as the TV changes again.

“Oops,” he whispers. “Butterfingers.”

“Butterfingers, my ass!” I hiss back, stabbing the button again. “Dude, do you mind?”

He spreads his hands.

With his long, easy stride, the motion makes the muscles in his waist pull dangerously tight against his A-shirt that’s finally starting to darken with sweat.

“Don’t know what’s wrong with this damn thing,” he lies. “It’s busted today. Just keeps switching back on its own.”

Right as he taps his phone again, watching me with a mock-innocent look.

Right on cue, the TV flicks back to his stupid suspense show despite me mashing the button down like my life depends on it.

“You don’t know what’s wrong with it, huh?” I can’t believe I’m this annoyed and yet somehow smirking helplessly.

Idiot.

I jab the button again—really fast this time, stabbing it with my fingertip—just as he hits the button on his screen. The TV starts flickering back and forth like a psychedelic kaleidoscope of noise and color.

“Maybe your thumb’s broken,” I say. “Mine are working, last I checked.”

He glances at his hand languidly then, lifting his thumb off his phone. “Must be. Would you look at that. It should stay now.”

I snort and hit my channel again, shaking my head as I try to pick up the pace and try to have a normal workout.

I point two fingers at my eyes and then at him.

I’m watching you.

Author Bio:

Nicole Snow is a Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author. She found her love of writing by hashing out love scenes on lunch breaks and plotting her great escape from boardrooms. Her work roared onto the indie romance scene in 2014 with her Grizzlies MC series.

Since then Snow aims for the very best in growly, heart-of-gold alpha heroes, unbelievable suspense, and swoon storms aplenty. With over a million books sold, she lives for the joy of making two people fight with every bit of their soul for a Happily Ever After.

Current fan favorites include her Enguard Protectors series, accidental love novels, plus long beloved MC romance thrillers like the Grizzlies and Deadly Pistols.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / Bookbub / Twitter

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