Teatime and Books: December 2025

Tuesday, December 30, 2025

Teaser Tuesday ~ The Dhampir by Angela Knight

A Destined Mates Vampire Romance Novella

Dark Fantasy Romance

Date Published: January 2, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

An ancient vampire, Hunter can command any woman he wants -- except the one woman he needs. His mate.

Genevieve Drake is a Dhampir -- half vampire, half mortal, born and bred to be the perfect complement to her vampire mate, like those of her family for sixteen generations. Instead, she chose to become a cop. Three months ago she survived a vicious attack by a psychotic ex that left her with psychic scars and a desperate need for a new line of work. Time to rethink her future.

Hunter is tall, dark and handsome -- and very, very powerful. He’s also been waiting for Genevieve. She was just eighteen when he had a vision that they’d one day become lovers. He’s been biding his time ever since. But Genevieve’s experiences have left her unable to trust any man, even Hunter.

If he wants them to have a future, the vampire will have to find a way to banish her ghosts…

Excerpt

The vampire's bodyguard was sloppy when he searched Genevieve Drake. He missed at least three places where she could have stashed weapons. Would have stashed weapons, if she hadn't been going to an interview for a job she desperately needed. To add insult to injury, he smirked up at her when he crouched at her feet to pat her down, hands lingering on her thighs and calves.

Genevieve gave serious thought to kneeing him in the jaw.

Finally, after a last knowing leer, the guard ushered her into Hunter's sprawling office, then closed the heavy double doors and left them alone.

"Ms. Drake." Tall, radiating a power that made her Dhampir senses vibrate like harp strings, the vampire stepped around his big rosewood desk to shake Genevieve's hand, his grip careful and warm. His touch sent a flush of magic radiating up her arm. Her mouth went dry, and she felt her nipples peak. "It's a pleasure."

Her body's intense response surprised her. She'd felt dead from the neck down for months. "Please call me Genevieve, Mr. Hunter." Not Genny. Never Genny. Smiling up at him, she used all her years undercover to keep her expression no more than pleasantly professional.

"It's just Hunter," the vampire said in a black velvet purr of a voice. He gave her a slow, white smile, his eyes the sharp and startling blue of an arctic wolf. His features were starkly masculine, with a long swoop of a nose and a broad, square chin. His hair was thick and black, just long enough to touch his collar.

He gestured her away from his desk toward two armchairs that sat facing each other. Just beyond the chairs, a plate glass window ran the length of the room. Sixty stories below, the glittering glory of Atlanta spread across the night.

As Hunter ushered her to the chairs, Genevieve studied him. If anything, the vampire was more impressive than she remembered. Easily six-foot-two, he had a powerful build that made him look like a warrior even camouflaged in black Armani. His tie was a splash of crimson against his white shirt, while cufflinks of onyx and gold adorned his French cuffs.

"It's good to see you again," Hunter said as they sat. The chairs were positioned so close, their knees almost touched. It was not exactly the arrangement she'd have expected for a job interview -- but then, this was not a typical job interview. "You were what -- fifteen? -- when last I saw you."

"Sixteen," Genevieve corrected. And madly infatuated with you. But that was something she had no intention of sharing. And anyway, it had been fourteen years ago.

Before Gary. Before she'd been left bleeding in a dirty alley with the last of her illusions in shreds.

Hunter probably knew about her painfully intense crush. Probably knew about Gary, too, for that matter. As her father always said, you can't hide anything from a vampire, so don't even try. "It was good of you to grant me this interview."

"Not at all. I need an assistant, and you have excellent qualifications." He watched her settle back into the chair's soft wine red leather. His gaze sharpened. "Something concerns you."

Genevieve hesitated, caught between her desire not to offend and her sense of duty. She needed the job, but her family had been Dhampir for sixteen generations.

Duty won. "Your bodyguard was more interested in feeling me up than in making sure I wasn't armed. I could have knocked him cold at least twice. In my opinion, he constitutes a security risk."

Hunter lifted a cool black brow. "He's a former Navy SEAL."

"And a current idiot."

"You are blunt, bordering on rude." Hunter smiled, satisfaction in his eyes. "And every bit as fearless as I would have expected of Tommy Drake's daughter."

She relaxed back into her chair. "Well, that's a relief."

"That I took the criticism well?" His arctic eyes heated to burning blue as he watched her cross her legs. Her knee inadvertently brushed his, and the contact sent magic flaring up her thigh. Straight into her sex.

She tried to ignore the pulse of erotic heat that flared low in her belly. "No, I'm relieved you ordered your man to play the fool to test my honesty. I'd hate to think you'd hire someone that sloppy."

The vampire laughed, a deep, masculine rumble, seductive and warm. "No, I have not survived three hundred and forty years by surrounding myself with sloppy bodyguards. And there've been times even careful ones..." Hunter stopped and rolled his powerful shoulders as if shrugging off a painful memory.

"Sometimes it doesn't matter how careful or well-trained you are." Genevieve's voice dropped to a whisper. "Especially if you're betrayed."

He studied her, going still as a predator. Seeing too much. "The scars from betrayal go to the soul. And they never quite fade, do they?"

"Not so far." Genevieve forced a smile and deliberately sought to turn the conversation back to business. "What are you looking for in a personal assistant?"

You, Hunter thought.

About the Author

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades, Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.

Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. Besides her fiction work, Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police department.

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Book Blitz ~ Nayeli by Valina Aust

Memoir, Animal Rescue, Inspirational

Date Published: November 17, 2025

Abandoned. Injured. Left to fate on the harsh streets of Romania. This is the story of a paralyzed street dog named Nayeli—who refused to give up.

Struck by a car and left for dead, Nayeli's fate seemed sealed. But against all odds, a few strangers saw the fire in her eyes—and chose to believe in her. Their belief sparked a rescue effort that crossed borders, challenged assumptions, and gave one fragile life a second chance.

In Germany, Nayeli found a human who saw not a disability, but a soul worth fighting for. Through unwavering love, gentle care, and the quiet power of daily perseverance, Nayeli's resilience led to a life she was never supposed to have—a life worth living.

Nayeli: More Than Just a Survival Story is a deeply human tale of courage, quiet love, and the unspoken bond between a soul in need—and the one who answered.

This is not just a memoir. It is a soul journey through darkness and dignity, and a quiet tribute to what happens when hope refuses to die.

If you've ever believed in second chances—or felt that silent pull to protect a life more fragile than your own—then Nayeli's story will linger long after the last page.

For those who have ever fought quietly for a voiceless soul. Or mourned one.

This journey is for you.

About the Author

Some books are more than just stories—they are bridges. Bridges between past and future, between despair and hope, between those who have a voice and those who are unheard.

My book is dedicated to the forgotten souls—the countless stray dogs fighting for survival, the shelter dogs longing for medical care, and the puppies hoping for a safe home. It tells the story of resilience, of those who refuse to give up despite overwhelming odds.

But this book is also about the people who stand by them. The ones who don’t look away, who dedicate their lives to giving these animals a second chance. They are the unsung heroes of animal welfare, and their courage deserves to be seen, shared, and remembered.

By telling this story, I hope to build a bridge—one that connects awareness to action, compassion to commitment, and readers to a cause that truly matters. Because every rescued life is proof that change is possible.

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Teaser ~ Spirit Bear Conspiracy - Brotherhood of the Wild by Anne Kane

Brotherhood of the Wild 1

A Riptide MC Romance

MC Romance

Date Published: January 2, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

My mission: Save my woman, guard the secret of the rare spirit bear, and take down the poachers.

Ryland -- I was tailing a gang of poachers, certain they’d lead me straight to their kingpin, when a stray arrow from a crossbow slammed into me. Pain lanced through me and everything faded to black. In that blur of unconsciousness, I could have sworn a pure white bear stood over me, calm as can be. When I opened my eyes again, a woman -- curvy and impossibly beautiful -- was watching me with the cutest look of mixed concern and distrust on her face.

Kimberly -- I thought I was alone on a tiny island off the coast of British Columbia until an arrow from a crossbow barely missed skewering me. With my dog Diego at my heels, I ran to hide in a maze of caves, my heart pounding. Crouched down in the dark, I listened in terror as voices and footsteps floated to me from outside. I prayed the shooters wouldn’t find the spirit bear that inhabited this place. When I finally crept back out into the daylight, I found I wasn’t the only target -- but the unconscious man lying in a pool of his own blood wasn’t talking. Victim or one of them?

Excerpt
Copyright ©2026 Anne Kane

Ryland

A sudden squawk of alarm sounded directly in front of me. The quiet morning exploded into sound as a covey of startled pheasants took flight.

Damn! I was hiding in the thick brush off the side of the path, out of sight of my quarry, but right behind the fucking birds. One of the poachers turned, aiming a crossbow straight at the panicked birds. Straight at me.

Double damn.

I ducked low to the ground, hoping to avoid detection. My handgun was nestled in its shoulder holster, and a couple of my favorite throwing knives were strapped to my thighs but there were six poachers and one of me. Not sure why they were using crossbows instead of firearms. Maybe they wanted to avoid making any noise that might bring attention to their presence, but I couldn’t imagine who they thought might hear them on this deserted piece of dirt off the coast of British Columbia.

Even without guns, though, the odds were against me. I braced myself as the arrow arced its way toward me.

Moving to avoid the projectile wasn’t an option. I couldn’t afford to let the poachers detect my presence. My mission depended on them not knowing they’d been made.

The shooter had already turned back to catch up with the rest of the group when the sharp tip of the projectile sliced through the meaty outer part of my upper arm. I gritted my teeth as blood spurted from the wound.

Son of a bitch, that hurt.

Still, it was a lucky shot -- a flesh wound, even if a painful one. I’d had worse. Just one foot to the left and it would have gone straight through my heart. A broadhead arrow could prove fatal under the right circumstances.

The flapping of the pheasants’ wings made so much racket that it drowned out any noise I made as I lowered myself to the ground, grimacing at the red stain spreading on my sleeve. I needed to staunch the bleeding. Like it or not, the chase was over for today.

I glanced down at my watch. I was cutting it close. I needed to get back to my boat and report in. If William didn’t hear from me on schedule, he’d send the troops storming in to find me and that would blow any chance we had of learning what these guys were up to.

I leaned back against a moss-covered tree stump in the center of the bushes. The sound of the poachers joking amongst themselves as they retreated let me know my presence hadn’t been detected.

Well, at least that was a positive.

I’d been tailing these jerks for almost a week now, ever since an anonymous tip-off to the Operations Center had clued William in on their activity in this neck of the woods. When they’d landed on this island though, I was baffled. What could there possibly be here that would interest an international ring of poachers? If they’d been farther north or on the mainland, I would have assumed they were going after bears for their saleable parts, a lucrative business these days. Bear gall was in high demand in the traditional Chinese medicine markets for its supposed healing properties. Bears were territorial creatures, though. On an island this small, the chances of finding more than one were slim, assuming you even found one. Hardly worth the effort of getting here.

Wincing, I shifted my weight slightly to take the pressure off my injured arm. I didn’t dare leave my hiding spot, not yet. I needed to be sure the poachers didn’t circle back. They were a nasty bunch, not above killing someone if they thought they could get away with it.

I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth against the pain lancing through my arm. The slow drip of water hitting the rocks beside me had a mesmerizing effect. Or was it the blood from the wound?

I pivoted my head to look at my injured arm. Despite the copious amounts of blood staining my shirt and the ground beneath me, the wound didn’t appear serious. The flow of the blood would have cleaned out any foreign debris, and the arrow had missed hitting the artery.

Yup, I’d definitely had worse.

Using my good arm, I pulled a knife out of the sheath strapped to my thigh and sliced a large swath of fabric from the front of my shirt to use as a makeshift bandage. A tight compress would staunch the bleeding long enough for me to make my way back to the mainland and get it taken care of properly.

I struggled to remove my belt, the worn leather creaking and groaning in protest as I pulled it loose.

It should not have taken that much effort. Maybe I’d lost more blood than I thought. Didn’t matter. I wasn’t dying, and the mission took precedence over a little discomfort.

The reason we had decided to investigate this group was the anomalies. This was one loaded group of badass poachers. Normally poachers were a solitary bunch, untrusting and cynical in the extreme. Finding two or three teamed together to go after larger prey wasn’t uncommon but teaming up like these guys were doing was totally out of character.

I’d been following them since they’d arrived from Hong Kong and met up with a local guide of questionable repute. It was evident that the meeting had been scheduled ahead of time. Prior to heading north, the five stayed at the Vancouver Airport Hotel for the night. That meant they had money behind them. They’d rented a Jeep and driven to their staging area, where they parked the Jeep in a forestry site lot on the coast. A fully stocked boat, complete with captain, was waiting for them, and they motored straight to this little island.

That was a considerable amount of effort just to reach this deserted piece of land in the Pacific Ocean. If not for the bug I’d managed to plant on one of the poachers at the airport, I would have lost contact with them. It was impossible to track a boat on the open ocean without visual sightings, so stealth required electronic solutions.

It would take someone with local knowledge to even find the island. It certainly didn’t show on international maps, and as far as I knew it wasn’t big enough to have a formal name, just a number on the navigation grid. That still didn’t explain what the attraction was, though. Given the people involved, there had to be some tie-in to the illegal poaching running rampant in this part of Canada. I just needed to figure out what it was.

I’d heard rumors one of the protected spirit bears inhabiting one of the small islands in this area. I knew they were extremely rare, but no one had been able to verify the story, and I put it down to a myth the locals used to lure tourists to the area. A quick Google search confirmed that the small population of spirit bears in this part of the world lived farther north, around Haida Gwaii.

Surely a group of international thieves would know better than to get taken in by such a blatant tourist-trapping lie? The parts from such a creature would be worth a devil’s ransom, but it would be difficult to harvest salable items from a myth. More likely, they were after something else, something valuable. But what?

I folded the soft strip of flannel from my shirt and placed it over the wound on my arm. The bleeding had slowed, a good sign. Gritting my teeth, I wrapped the belt around the makeshift bandage and pulled it tight.

A searing bolt of pain sliced through the raw wound, and colored dots danced before my eyes. I concentrated on my breathing as I waited for the throbbing to subside.

Looked like the wound was worse than I’d thought.

I’d left my medi-kit on the boat, but I’d seen a birch tree a few lengths back. My grandfather had been a bit of a survivalist and had shown me how to make a traditional wound dressing from birch bark. That would serve to dull the pain until I retrieved the medi-kit and the heavy-duty painkillers in it. I’d outgrown that macho, I-can-take-the-pain stage a long time ago.

I got to my feet, using the massive tree stump to steady myself. For a moment, the world swam in front of my eyes. Great, just what I needed.

I closed them, waiting for the forest to stop moving. When it did, I pushed off from the stump, trekking slowly in the direction of the beachhead where I’d left my boat.

One foot in front of the other. Easy as that. I could do this.

My arm throbbed, and I glanced down. No fresh blood. Good.

I stopped by the birch tree, dropping to one knee. Using a sharp-bladed hunting knife to slice off a few lengths of bark, I shredded it into fibers and formed them into a compress. Sucking in a deep breath, I gently placed the birch bark poultice over the raw flesh and reapplied the dressing, securing it with the belt.

Resting for a bit to let the pain ease up, I rose to my feet and continued in the direction of the boat.

Seconds later, I stumbled over a surface root, thudding heavily to my knees. The loss of blood must have weakened me more than I’d realized, and it took a long moment before I managed to get back up. I picked up a broken tree limb, leaning on it for balance.

My focus narrowed. I needed to get to the boat. Keeping my hold on the makeshift walking stick, I took a step. Better, much better.

The birch bark compress supplied some relief from the pain in my arm. I’d had worse injuries back in my military days. I could do this.

Concentrate. The boat.

Need to get to boat.

Need to report back in.

Whatever these guys were after, the Brotherhood of the Wild would put a stop to it. We had the advantage of operating internationally, bypassing local bureaucracy. And we had money. Money could open doors and make officials look the other way.

Boat. Need to get to the boat.

I stumbled again, pausing to lean on a tree until my vision cleared.

Clenching my jaw, I pushed myself upright and took one step. Then another.

Leaning heavily on the walking stick, I steadied myself. The notion of balance seemed to have deserted my brain entirely, and I compromised with a slow shuffling gait that kept me on my feet and heading in the right direction. That was really all I needed.

I felt myself start to fall again and reached out for the closest tree. Had I even made it twenty feet since the last time I’d had to reach for a tree? Maybe. But not much farther.

I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head. Nope. Wasn’t going to work this time. Never mind. I just needed to keep moving in the direction of the boat. That was all.

Just keep moving.

About the Author

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

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Teaser ~ The Legacy of a Lie by Ron Elcombe

Contemporary Fiction

Date Published: January 15, 2026

Publisher: Windy Ridge Publishing

The Legacy of a Lie unravels a web of family secrets when the past resurfaces, threatening everything its keepers tried to protect. At its center is Maarit McDonough Malone, a brilliant yet flawed budding opera singer whose scandalous choices ripple across generations.

Her daughters—Kay, a celebrated mezzo-soprano, and Anna, a self-doubting composer—must confront the emotional fallout of their mother’s long-buried lies. Alongside them are a young, truth-seeking journalist, a lawyer, and a priest, all carrying the weight of secrets they are professionally and morally bound to keep.

Set in the haunting beauty of Minnesota’s river bluffs and Lake Superior’s North Shore, this is a story of legacy and redemption—of truth breaking through the cracks of deception and healing in the wake of generations of silence.

Excerpt

She turned the radio off as she pulled into the drive-through at the Coffee Stop. The attendant, too perky for the morning hour, wished her a great day and passed a medium coffee with cream but no sugar through the window. Only two meetings were scheduled for the day: the first with her boss at 11:00 a.m. and a division meeting at 1:00. With any luck, she’d escape the office early.

Instead of turning north to I–94 and Saint Paul, the car pulled out of the Coffee-Stop driveway onto the main street and turned south toward Red Wing. Maarit was surprised at the easy merge into the lighter-than-usual highway traffic.

“Why is the sun in my eyes today?” Maarit muttered. “It wasn’t yesterday.” Within a few minutes, where she expected stop lights, stop signs were spaced apart at irregular intervals. Long stretches of unfamiliar road stretched to the horizon. She looked at her watch and frowned. She should have been at work twenty minutes ago. The highway transitioned into a street with no curb or shoulder, then evolved into a narrow gravel road. She tried to turn around, but the car slid off the narrow shoulder into a ditch.

Confusion became fear. The front bumper hit an orange snow fence. The car shuddered. Forward motion ceased. Engine warning lights glowed red throughout the vehicle. Fear became panic. She tried to yell for help, but only a faint whisper escaped her lips. Her head throbbed. Everything blurred. Then, everything went dark as she lost consciousness.

About the Author

Ron Elcombe is a professor emeritus at Winona State University (MN), where he taught various advertising and mass communication courses for 25 years. His eclectic career encompasses teaching instrumental music, as well as sales and marketing roles for multiple companies. He has been published in the Lake Country Journal and several professional academic journals and has attended seminars on fiction writing at the Iowa Summer Writers Festival. "The Legacy of a Lie" is the first book in a three-novel series. He resides in Rochester, Minnesota, with his wife, Sharon, and enjoys summers on the golf course and at the family cabin in northern Minnesota.

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Book Tour ~ Killer Tracks - A Misty Pines Mystery by Mary Keliikoa

KILLER TRACKS

by Mary Keliikoa

October 27 - December 12, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

A Misty Pines Mystery

A peaceful retreat. A maze of smoke and murder. Is their remote getaway about to become a death trap?

Sheriff Jax Turner is worried about going off-grid and leaving his young team of deputies behind. But while his getaway with his ex is meant to help them reconnect, Jax is distracted by signs of a break-in at their rented lookout.

After a string of unsettling events and an approaching wildfire turn their isolated retreat into a danger zone, he’s stunned to find a dead body with marks tying it to a killer he put away a decade ago.

Terrified that his attempt at reconciliation has led them both into a fatal setup, Jax rushes back to his estranged wife before she joins the list of victims. But his dedication to serving and protecting could become an Achilles heel as other players join them among the darkening trees.

Can he fight his way out of the woods before the flames of revenge consume everything?

Praise for Killer Tracks:

"Keliikoa is the Queen of immersive small-town mystery. Killer Tracks is cleverly plotted with deftly drawn relatable characters who face off with a deadly threat from the past."
~ James L’Etoile, award winning author of River of Lies and the Detective Nathan Parker series

"Mary Keliikoa’s Killer Tracks is a wonderful addition to the Misty Pines mystery series. Great pacing, strong plotting, and compelling characters. Highly recommended!"
~ Bruce Robert Coffin, international bestselling coauthor of The Turner and Mosley Files

Killer Tracks Trailer:

Book Details:

Genre: Police Procedural; Detective and Mystery; Crime Fiction; Suspense
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: September 30, 2025
Number of Pages: 319
ISBN: 979-8-89820-033-6 (pb)
Series: A Misty Pines Mystery, #3 || Amazon | Goodreads | Level Best Books
Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads | BookBub

The Misty Pines Mystery Series

Step into the thrilling world of Misty Pines today with the first ebook, HIDDEN PIECES, now just $0.99!

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

Read an excerpt:

PROLOGUE

Click. Slide. Clang.

If he never heard that sound again, it’d be far too soon. That, and the sleepless nights under a thread-bare wool blanket that chafed his exposed skin, the looming threat of death... in the yard, the shower, the halls to and from the cafeteria or his cell.

Death and desperation seeped from the pores of this godforsaken place. So thick he could almost taste it. No amount of soap, no amount of ritual, would rid him of the stench that clung to him—though he’d be willing to try.

It was over now. Dying among these second-class men would not be his fate. A man of his intellect, a man far superior to the minions around him, deserved better than what he’d endured these past years.

He’d eagerly reeducate those who believed otherwise. They’d all see it by the time he was through with them, just like those that came before.

Click. Slide. Clang.

A voice echoed off the concrete walls.

“Inmate 22-A-4242. Gather your crap. Time to go.”

He stood, hands to his sides.

“Ready to face the world?”

He remained silent. None would get the satisfaction of his acknowledgement.

The voice continued. “They gave you a goddamn Hail Mary. Bleeding heart liberals anyway. Don’t screw it up.”

He bowed his head to obscure his smirk.

“Right. I know your type. You’re innocent.” The guard continued rambling. “That’s what all you convicts say. ‘I didn’t do it.’ ‘I was framed.’ ‘It’s unconstitutional.’” The guard’s voice dropped to a growl, prickling his skin. “Tell that to the victims and their families. I’d reckon less than one percent of you bastards got a legit claim.”

The guard had forgotten betrayed, of which he surely had been. But he shrugged, not to agree, but to stave off the urge to wrap his hands around the guard’s throat. So close to freedom...

Whether he was innocent or not had no bearing; it had not been among the criteria for the help he’d received. Being wrongfully convicted qualified. According to the junior team that had embraced his cause when he’d written the letter, they agreed that’s what had happened in his case. Even if it took them ten years, he loved a system that allowed more loopholes than the cable-knit sweater Mother had dressed him in for school.

“Sell it to someone else, you psycho,” the guard snapped. “Bet you money. We’ll see you again real soon.”

A jagged smile crossed his face. The guard had part of it correct—but he’d never be back here. Next time, he’d be less gullible.

And he intended to snuff out anything that could hurt him, like the light of every other woman who hadn’t seen his worth.

CHAPTER ONE

Some days, it didn’t pay to get out of bed.

Sheriff Jax Turner had experienced more than his fair share of those mornings in the past six years. First, when his daughter Lulu died from leukemia. Then, when his marriage dissolved—more like shattered into a million pieces. Followed by a couple of cases that had tested his limits of trust. They’d destroyed some, too.

Today was different.

Abby Kanekoa, his ex-wife with whom he’d shared the gutting grief of those past years, had offered hope for reconciliation—the chance to glue a few of those pieces back together. It would never be the same without their little girl... but perhaps they could create something new.

Leaving for the mountains just after Labor Day was less than ideal. Though with the tourist season coming to an end in Misty Pines, and Abby due a vacation at the Bureau, it was the best time. Deputy Rachel Killian, his new hire and right hand, was turning out to be as capable as he’d hoped. Applicants for filling the gaps at their station had been sparse. Few, it seemed, wanted to work these days—or work at the often cool and foggy Oregon coast. He’d at least been able to get most of his young crew on full-time payroll, so Rachel had help.

Bottom line, getting away was Abby’s idea. He would not tell her no.

Now to get through the pep talk with the team. The two major events of the past year had allowed them to punch a few notches into their experience belt, but wisdom and reliance on gut instinct were born with time. Leaving them to run Misty Pines without his guidance had his muscles taut.

He entered the sheriff’s office with his duffle flung over his shoulder.

“Oh hon, don’t tell me that’s all you’re taking for the week?” Trudy said. Jax’s long-time secretary, and overall, Team Mother to him and his ragtag group of deputies, lifted the headset off her ears.

He suppressed a smile. “Glad to see your accident hasn’t made you any less opinionated.”

Eight months had passed since the event that had nearly stolen her from him and the team. A warm and fuzzy Trudy would be hard to get used to—he was grateful he didn’t have to learn.

Trudy rested the headset around her neck. “Looks like Abby hasn’t given you any clue about where you’re going.”

“Other than the mountains, not much. I’ve tossed a few essentials in my truck.”

“Like?”

“A good book and a board game.” He smiled. “A couple of bottles of wine.”

She arched her brow.

“What? I’m assuming she’s arranged for us to be at some luxury resort.”

“You think so?”

“Abby likes her massages, saunas, breakfast in bed.” Not to mention time basking on the deck with a steaming cup of coffee. For being a tough no-nonsense woman, and a hell of an FBI agent, she liked the finer things—and she’d earned every damn one of them.

“And what do you like?” Trudy asked.

He chuckled. Not much of what he’d just mentioned. “Roughing it.”

“Hmmm…and she arranged this for the two of you to reconnect?”

His smile faded; he dropped the bag at his feet. “Are we camping?”

Trudy laughed and shook her head. “When it comes to women, you do take a minute to catch up. Might I suggest a few more items?”

“Like a tent?” He’d have to dig it out of his garage, which wouldn’t take long.

“No. But a communication device might come in handy.”

“Abby said something about our phones being off for the week.” He shifted on his feet. “Are you saying we’re headed somewhere with no service?”

She returned to her desk in response.

Of course they were. Several interruptions to his and Abby’s conversations had come from the station over the past months. Too often, when they’d just settled into talk or were on the edge of a sensitive topic. Tourist season was like that every year with the random fender bender, a too-loud party on the beach, a drunken brawl at the pub. Some infraction demanding his attention.

Added to that, Brody had slid his motorcycle on wet pavement and nearly dislocated his shoulder in the spring. Garrett had a few interviews in Portland, one in Seattle. Matt was called in to stock shelves by his boss at the IGA grocery store when they were short staffed, which had become more consistent.

Time with Abby had been the price, although the last time they’d carved out a night together still brought a smile to his face. Maybe this trip signaled her intention of wanting more quality togetherness. That thought alone made having limited phone access worth it regardless of where they went, even as the uneasiness of being out of contact with his crew niggled at him.

He flung the bag back over his shoulder and headed to his office.

The click of claws on the linoleum sounded behind him.

“Boss.” Rachel and Koa, her black lab, came out of the kitchen. “You all set?”

“Almost. Picking Abby up soon for what appears might be a wilderness retreat.”

Rachel laughed. “Don’t look so concerned.”

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh. That’s why you have a crease between your eyebrows.”

He rubbed the spot. “Guess I’m not fond of surprises.”

“Never have been myself, but I have a feeling you’ll have fun.”

“According to Trudy, I will. Hope Abby does.” It was sweet she’d chosen a place that appealed to him—more imperative if she enjoyed herself. She’d never been one to sleep on the ground.

“Believe me, she did good.”

“Take it you know where we’re headed?”

“Not precisely.”

“How about a hint of what you do know, so I’m better prepared?” Having spent far too much time in the dark, he preferred to be ahead of things these days.

She did a zipping motion in front of her mouth. “I get that it’ll be difficult for you, but try not to worry. The men and I have everything covered.”

He nodded. Letting go of the wheel would never be easy, and in law enforcement things could change quickly. But Rachel was solid, and he trusted her… despite his former partner Jameson not agreeing with him hiring his only daughter. Jax had made the right call; he stood by it. There should be no hesitation about him and Abby taking a week for themselves.

“You’ll get a hold of me if there’s a problem?” he said.

“You won’t have any way…”

“I’m taking the satellite phone.”

Rachel folded her arms over her chest. “Suppose that’s smart after the last trek in the wilderness...”

“Exactly my thought.”

Rachel pursed her lips, likely recalling that day when radio silence had left her and the team wrought with worry as they waited for word on whether Jax and Abby were alive. But Abby should understand his decision, if it came up. Probably better it didn’t.

“Let’s do a briefing before I head out,” he said.

Rachel winked. “The men are waiting for you in the strategy room.”

He chuckled. That’s why there’d been no sign of them when he’d arrived.

In his office, he set his duffle bag on a chair, and retrieved the satellite phone, burying it near the bottom in a T-shirt. Once he checked his email for the tenth time and cleared his desk, he started toward the meeting room, until he heard voices in the reception area.

Trudy was holding open the station’s door. The men were grabbing their gear about to file out, Rachel and Koa behind them.

“What’d I miss?” Jax said.

Koa turned at the sound of his voice, trotting to his side. Jax squatted next to her, draping his arm gently over her back.

“Nothing to worry about, boss,” Rachel said.

“Just a routine traffic revision, chief,” Brody said. “We’ve got it.” He’d gelled down his wispy brown hair today, making him look young. Too young.

“I’ve got forty minutes before…”

“Oh no you don’t, Jax Turner,” Trudy said. “It’s a half-hour drive to Abby, and you will not be late.”

“I—”

“We’ve got it, Sheriff,” Rachel said, calling Koa to her. Koa didn’t budge.

“Koa’s siding with me on this,” he said.

Rachel lifted a brow at her black lab, who promptly returned to her side.

Fine. Jax stood. He’d wanted a team he could rely on, and he had one. So why did he feel left out? “Who’s in need of traffic revision anyway?”

“Fire department,” Trudy said.

“There’s an apartment complex on fire at the edge of town,” Rachel said.

Battalion Chief Mike O’Brien rarely requested assistance. With the remaining tourists eking out the last of their holiday weekend there could be a traffic log, he supposed.

“I’ll go with you,” Jax said.

Rachel held up her hands in a stop gesture. “Please. Get out of here and have a good time.”

Before he could protest, Rachel was out the door and Trudy shut it behind them. Through the glass, Jax watched his team slide into two of the patrol cars.

“You heard your deputy, hon. Get your stuff and head to Abby’s. And don’t come back until you and that saint of a woman have worked everything out.”

Trudy was right. He needed to check his ego. Misty Pines could handle a week without him.

A call came through Trudy’s headset which she tapped to answer. She settled behind her desk as he grabbed his bag, her voice fading as he walked outside.

“Yes, Mrs. Harper. Just a small fire. Nothing to worry about.”

***

Author Bio:

Eighteen years in the legal field, and an over-active imagination, led Mary Keliikoa to plot murder—novels that is. She is the author of the domestic thriller DON’T ASK, DON’T FOLLOW, the newly released KILLER TRACKS, the third book in the Misty Pines mystery series which is an IPPY Silver and Bronze Award winner, Silver Falchion finalist, and a Foreword Indies award finalist, and the Shamus and CLUE Finalist, and Lefty, Agatha and Anthony nominated “PI Kelly Pruett” mystery series. Her short stories have appeared in Woman's World and the anthology Peace, Love and Crime.

Catch Up With Mary Keliikoa:

MaryKeliikoa.com
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X - @mary_keliikoa
Facebook - @Mary.Keliikoa.Author

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KILLER TRACKS by Mary Keliikoa
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Book Tour ~ The Forbidden Heiress by Glede Browne Kabongo

THE FORBIDDEN HEIRESS

by Gledé Browne Kabongo

November 17 – December 12, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

The Forbidden Heiress by Gledé Browne Kabongo

Sabree Warner's biggest mistake wasn't taking the job—it was being born.

Drowning in grief and desperate for work, brilliant cancer researcher Sabree Warner leaps at the chance to join Montague Pharma, one of the world's most powerful pharmaceutical dynasties. Her first assignment seems straightforward: investigate why promising drug compounds were mysteriously abandoned before they could be developed into life-saving medicines.

But someone doesn't want her digging. A car nearly runs her down on a quiet street and speeds away, and her apartment is vandalized. Undeterred, Sabree probes further and uncovers a twisted game of corporate espionage. The abandoned drugs weren't shelved by accident—they were buried to hide a secret that could destroy the Montague empire.

Then Sabree discovers her connection to the powerful Montague family runs deeper—and deadlier—than she could ever imagine. As a vicious succession battle rages, someone has been watching her every move, someone who has already killed to keep the truth about her identity buried. In this world of ambition and ruthless power games, Sabree is fighting for more than answers.

She's fighting to stay alive.

Because in the Montague family, secrets don't stay hidden, they get eliminated.

Book Details:

Genre: Psychological Thriller
Published by: Indie
Publication Date: October 22, 2025
Number of Pages: 350
ISBN: 979-8-9913219-6-9
Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | Apple Books | Goodreads | BookBub

Author Bio:

Gledé Browne Kabongo writes twisty, unputdownable psychological thrillers about resilient women navigating dark secrets, deadly lies, and impossible choices. A multiple award-winning indie author, her books resonate best with readers who enjoy thrillers with complex characters, dark secrets, multiple deceptions and betrayals, unforgettable twists, and intellectual and emotional engagement.

Her novels include: A Game of Malice, Our Wicked Lies, Fool Me Twice, Conspiracy of Silence,Fearless Series.

Readers have described Gledé’s work as "unbelievably addictive," "brilliant," "unputdownable," and "haunting and complex."

Gledé has spoken at multiple industry events including the Boston Book Festival, Sisters in Crime (SinC) New England Crime Bake, and the Women in Publishing Summit. She lives outside Boston with her family.

Catch Up With Gledé Browne Kabongo:

www.GledeKabongo.com
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Instagram - @authorgledekabongo
Facebook - @gledekabongoauthor

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Book Tour ~ Thieves Carousel - The Carousel Series by Briana Chen

Book Details:

Book Title:  THE THIEVES' CAROUSEL by Briana Chen
Category:  Adult Fiction (18+), 300 pages
Genre: Fantasy
Publisher: Z-Choice International
Release date:  August 2025
Content Rating: PG-13 +M: Some bad language, violence, and dark themes (implied abuse, self-harm)

Book Description:

What price would you pay to undo a death?

In the shadowed streets of Aspizia, two thieves—Lyo Morandi and Jasper Bray—risk everything to rewrite the past. Haunted by the death of their friend Milo, they set their sights on a forbidden prize: a ring reputed to alter time.

To steal it, they must infiltrate the Thieves’ Carousel, a ruthless exhibition where the city’s most dangerous criminals flaunt their treasures—and fight to keep them. But as Lyo and Jasper descend deeper into the catacombs beneath Aspizia, they uncover a truth far more dangerous than they imagined: the ring’s power comes at a devastating cost.

Loyalties splinter. Betrayal lurks around every corner. Loyalties splinter. As the game turns deadly, they must ask themselves: How far will they go to rescue the past and save the future—and how much of themselves are they willing to lose?

The Thieves’ Carousel is a gripping tale of ambition, sacrifice, and the haunting price of second chances.

BUY THE BOOK:
Amazon ~ B&N
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Meet the Author:

BRIANA CHEN is an award-winning fantasy author and repeat offender when it comes to falling headfirst into fandoms. She loves morally gray characters, unpredictable plot twists, and books that make her stare at a wall for hours afterward.

She is also a digital artist, gamer, and graduate of Carnegie Mellon University. She currently spends her time battling artist’s and writer’s block—sometimes simultaneously—and pursuing more adventures to add to her hoard of treasure.

connect with the author: website ~ instagram ~ goodreads

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Book Tour ~ Sangrita - Jessica Watts Southwest Suspense Series by Kathryn Dodson

SANGRITA

by Kathryn Dodson

November 17 - December 12, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

Jessica Watts Southwest Suspense Series

A kidnapping scheme turns deadly when private investigator Jessica Watts becomes the hunted instead of the hunter.

Jessica Watts refuses to work with her nemesis Tomas Garcia—until his desperate wife arrives with their baby, begging Jessica to find Tomas's missing father. Tres Garcia vanished after marrying his late wife's cousin Letty in a secret ceremony, and now Letty claims he's too sick for visitors. When Jessica discovers bloody medical supplies in Letty's trash, someone knocks her unconscious and she awakens trapped in a nightmare.

Held prisoner for days with Tres's life-support machine beeping nearby, Jessica realizes Letty is running a deadly operation with border coyotes—ruthless smugglers who eliminate witnesses. The kidnapping is part of an elaborate scheme to steal Tres's fortune, and with the coyotes closing in with orders to kill everyone, Jessica must overcome her terror and escape before Letty's greed destroys them all—but will the tough investigator she's always been survive becoming the prey?

Book Details:

Genre: Crime Fiction, Women's Detective Fiction
Published by: Renegade Reads
Publication Date: November 21, 2025
Number of Pages: 220
ISBN: 979-8-9903577-7-8
Series: Jessica Watts Southwest Suspense Series, Book 4 | Each is a Stand-Alone
Book Links: Amazon | KindleUnlimited | Goodreads | BookBub

Read an excerpt:

Chapter 1

Jessica let the mental exhaustion take hold for a minute, then shook it off. Eighteen months to go. If she survived that, she’d be a lawyer and hopefully move from the reception desk to the courtroom.

She settled into her chair. “I’m back,” she called to her boss. Linda owned the one person firm housed in a quaint old home turned law office in downtown El Paso. Jessica ran her fingers across the antique, inlaid cherry desk. She’d started here less than a year ago, but she already loved this place.

“Hey, how was the test?” Linda strode into the room and plopped down in front of her. A perfect-fitting Armani suit and a blonde blowout softened the toughness shining through Linda’s blue eyes. The creases in her face told the world she’d faced a few battles.

“Tough, but I’m pretty sure I passed,” Jessica said.

Linda smiled, then cocked her head, a question appearing in her eyes. “I bet your father would be proud.”

Jessica bristled, the ache returning to her shoulders and prickles of tension running across her skin. Linda hadn’t brought up Jessica’s dad since the first time they met.

Jessica hated how her father’s conviction for destroying evidence in a drug case shaded her pending law career. He’d been El Paso’s district attorney at the time. That embarrassment held Jessica back for too many years. She’d gotten past it, mostly, especially since her father’s passing.

She shrugged her shoulders in response then willfully changed the subject. “Has it been quiet here?”

“Surprisingly so. But who knows what will walk in the door next?” Linda glanced out the large window as if she expected to see someone trotting up the steps. She turned back to Jessica. “Do you have any new projects on the horizon? You know, human remains under a pecan tree or a missing heiress?”

Jessica’s reputation for finding things, missing people, murderers, had ratcheted up since she started working with Linda. She shook her head. “No more wild cases for me. I need to keep my head down and finish school. I keep getting waylaid by these other projects. It’s too hard to focus on law school and my work here when I’m off solving someone else’s mystery.”

Linda studied Jessica. “Maybe, but I think you like striking out on your own, solving someone’s problem, and coming back a hero. Practicing law is so different than that. It’s tedious and requires an extraordinary amount of patience while the wheels of justice turn.”

Did Linda doubt her aspirations? Not every case would be exciting, but lately, she could use a little less excitement in her life.

“Perhaps,” Jessica said. “But you’re a lot less likely to be confronted by people pointing guns at you or burning down the house you’re trapped in.”

“True. At least most of the time.”

Jessica wondered about her answer. “Is that why you left the police force and became an attorney?” She had heard about Linda’s first career from Jaime Castro, a lieutenant on the El Paso police force and one of her oldest friends. Based on the admiration in his voice, Linda had excelled as a police officer.

“Not really.” Linda’s gaze softened, as if remembering something from long ago. “The problem with police work is that you don’t get to choose your cases. When they don’t seem fair, it becomes hard to put your heart into the job.”

Jessica waited for an explanation. What kind of case would make someone as tough as Linda walk away? For a minute, Jessica thought she would say more. But instead, her boss changed the subject. “Why don’t we go over the upcoming cases?”

When they finished, Linda headed back to her office. Jessica had just turned to her computer when she spied someone coming toward the door. Someone she did not want to see.

Tomás Garcia loped up the steps and opened the door before Jessica could escape. If only her test had taken longer.

“Hi, Jessica. It’s good to see you.” He sat in the chair Linda had just vacated as if he owned the place.

He didn’t. And when he’d tracked her down at a party a few weeks ago, she’d told him she didn’t want to see him again. Yet here he sat. The audacity of rich men never failed to surprise her.

“Why are you here?” She threw all the surliness she could muster into her voice.

“Is that any way to treat a potential client?”

“Tomás, I made it clear that I would never work with you again. You do remember you tried to kill me the last time.” And the time before that, she’d almost died at the hands of someone he’d forgotten to tell her dealt drugs.

“I wouldn’t have killed you. I am not a murderer. I was just angry. I thought you had taken something I considered mine.”

“That something was a human being, and she didn’t want to be with you. You’ve lost your chance with me.”

He steepled his fingers and stared across the desk. “We have a long history, and we’ve worked well together in the past.” Arrogance wafted off him like a bad smell.

Jessica scanned her desk for something to throw at him or stab him with. Life was way too short to tolerate assholes like this.

He held his hands up in surrender, as if he could read her mind. “You’re right. That last time was horrible. I shouldn’t have done so many of the things I did then. I’m sorry. I promise I’m a different man now. And I need your help.”

Fire lit in her veins. She had already taken too many chances with Tomás. Jessica took a deep breath and tried to keep from spitting at him. “You need to leave. There is no way in hell you’ve changed enough in the last few years for me to consider working for you.” She wouldn’t physically attack him, but she tried her best to stare daggers into his soul.

“Please. Let me explain. I’m married to a wonderful woman now. We have a son, and he’s the most important thing in my life. Becoming a father changes a person. I’m a much better man today. Also, I lost my mother a year ago, and I’m worried about losing my father. That’s what I need to talk to you about.”

Of course, curiosity gnawed at her, but it wasn’t enough. She loathed this man.

“You do realize that waltzing in here expecting me to listen to you after I’ve already told you no means you’re still the entitled jerk you’ve always been.”

“I’m not. I swear. Please, just hear me out. I think someone is trying to kill my father.”

“So. Go to the police.”

“I have, but I can’t get anywhere with them. My dad remarried just a few months after my mom died. His new wife has completely denied me access to him.”

“Didn’t you hate your dad? How many times have you told me you wanted to build an empire even bigger than his? Maybe he just doesn’t want to see you.”

“Things are different now. After…after what happened with Doraliz, I had to change. I wasn’t a man I could be proud of, and I certainly wasn’t a son my mother could respect. But she didn’t give up on me. Instead, she helped me see what a terrible person I’d become and gave me a way to recover.”

“Whatever. I don’t care, and I want you to leave.” Jessica refused to buy his rich boy sob story. He should have ended up in jail.

He leaned forward, hands on his knees, blue eyes staring her down, probably his attempt at acting earnest. “I know how selfish and hurtful and conceited I was. I know, and I hate that version of myself. I understand why you don’t want to work with me, but my father’s life is on the line. You have a knack for solving mysteries. I’ve seen you do it. I need your help to save my father.”

“It’s not going to happen. And if you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops.” Jessica picked up her phone and hit the timer, then turned it to face him. “You’ve got sixty seconds to get out of this office.”

Exasperation crossed Tomás’s features. He sighed and started to say something. Then he shut his mouth, rose, and walked out the door. She hoped she’d never see him again.

Linda emerged the minute he left. From the look on her face, she’d heard the conversation.

“I didn’t know you had such a long, involved relationship with Mr. Garcia.” Linda sat in the probably still warm chair.

“Yeah. Unfortunately.” Jessica said nothing more, hoping Linda would drop it. She preferred to avoid the whole sordid tale.

Linda watched Jessica for a long moment but didn’t press her for more information. “You do know that you’re always welcome to work on outside cases. Soon enough you’ll have your own legal cases.”

“I look forward to that, but not with him.”

“Fine. You should head home early tonight. Go celebrate finishing midterms with that handsome husband of yours.”

“Thanks.” She did want to celebrate, although she’d stayed up so late cramming, she’d require a second wind to do anything other than crawl into bed. Or maybe a shot or two of tequila to help her forget torts. And Tomás’s visit.

***

Author Bio:

Kathryn writes about women who have to become their own heroes - whether they're solving a crime or figuring out the next phase of their lives.

She grew up writing and riding horses in far West Texas. She graduated from SMU in English/Creative Writing and went on to get an MBA from Thunderbird and a PhD from Clemson. Now she spends her days writing about women who become their own heroes.

She has worked on both sides of the US/Mexico border and has held jobs with governments, chambers of commerce, and other businesses. Kathryn loves to travel and has visited 30 countries and 44 states. This inspires her novels about interesting women in fascinating places.

Originally from Texas, Kathryn had the good fortune to live in Spain, Mexico, Tanzania, and several U.S. states, and the good sense to end up in Carlsbad, California. She loves travel, fiery food, hanging out with the neighbors in the front yard on Friday evenings, and reading.

Catch Up With Kathryn Dodson:

www.KathrynDodson.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @KathrynDodson
Instagram - @kathrynbdodson
Threads - @kathrynbdodson
LinkedIn - @kathydodson
Facebook - @kathy.dodson.31

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SANGRITA by Kathryn Dodson [Gift Card]
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